Boom

Chapter the 313th, where the Doctor puts his foot in it (well, on it).

Plot:

[This is a relatively recent story of the streaming age, so be warned that there are spoilers ahead.] Kastarian 3, the future. The TARDIS arrives during a war between Anglican cleric soldiers and the Kastarians, an enemy the humans have never seen. The Doctor steps on a smart landmine. Balancing on one leg, he cannot look down for fear that the mine will explode. Ruby confirms what he suspected: it has sensors to confirm a live target, whereupon the green lights surrounding the edge of the mine will join up and the mine will explode. There is currently a small gap, but it is slowly closing. Ruby brings the Doctor something to use as a counterweight, so he can put his foot down. It is the auto-compressed remains of a soldier, John Vater. A holographic AI of the dead man emanates explaining that he was killed by a robotic battlefield ambulance, as he was injured and no longer fit for combat. Vater's daughter Splice turns up on the battlefield looking for him. Another soldier Mundy Flynn follows her, and an ambulance approaches. Worried that any attention it gives the Doctor could set off the mine, Mundy gives her gun to Ruby and asks her to shoot her in the arm; this will mean the ambulance will focus on healing Mundy instead. Another soldier Canto arrives, misinterprets what's happening and shoots Ruby. The ambulance will not help the dying Ruby as she is not in the army. The Doctor advises Mundy to surrender: there are no Kastrians, and the war is only being kept going by the military hardware's algorithm that sustains any conflict with an acceptable casualty rate to keep up demand for weapons. Mundy demands evidence, so the Doctor sends the Vater AI into the ambulance's systems, but it is attacked as a software virus. Canto tries to override this, but he is electrocuted and dies.The gap closes and the bomb's countdown goes to zero, but it does not go off. The Vater AI has taken over, and instructs the ambulance to revive Ruby, who recovers.

Context:

Watched on the BBC iplayer in late October 2024, on my own. The Better Half is still avoiding watching any further Ncuti stories, and both the two children still living at home (eldest, 18, has gone off to university) felt they had watched the story too recently to watch it with me again.

Milestone watch: I've been blogging new and classic Doctor Who stories in random order since 2015, and I'm now closing in on the point where I finish everything and catch up with the current stories being broadcast serially. Without much else for the random process to select, the 2024 season of seven Ncuti Gatwa stories have been gobbled up quite quickly. This is the sixth of the seven to be blogged, with only the two-part finale left to complete the run. Beyond those, I have completed four Doctors' eras and 29 out of the total of 40 seasons to date (at the time of writing): classic seasons 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10-12, 14-18, 20, 21, 23-26, and new series 2, 4, 5-7, 9-11, and 13).

First Time Round:

I watched this just after midnight on Saturday 18th May 2024, accompanied by middle child (boy of 14 years of age then, 15 now). Later on that day, I took the youngest (girl of 12) and her friend to Worthing for a day out, as it had recently been the youngest's birthday. In the evening, she watched the story too. Both of them liked it.

Reaction:

Boom saw the writer Steven Moffat returning to the series for the first time since the long period when he was showrunner (from 2010 to 2017), invited by his old friend Russell T Davies to come up with story ideas. He thus searched his mind for something he hadn't done in the many scripts he'd written for the series over the years, and decided upon a story of suspense. In an interview that was used as part of the BBC's media centre press for the story, he was quoted saying that the Doctor usually "kills suspense because he's funny and in control, which quickly ends any suspense". So, what is suspense? Alfred Hitchcock, long ago dubbed the Master of Suspense, described it - and how it is different from surprise - thus: "Let's suppose that there is a bomb underneath this table... Nothing happens, and then all of a sudden, "Boom!" There is an explosion. The public is surprised, but prior to this surprise, it has seen an absolutely ordinary scene, of no special consequence. Now, let us take a suspense situation. The bomb is underneath the table and the public knows it... In these conditions, the same innocuous conversation becomes fascinating because the public is participating in the scene. The audience is longing to warn the characters... 'There is a bomb beneath you and it is about to explode!'". If you substitute Time Lord for table, that's pretty much a description of Boom (and Hitchcock even anticipated the title in the quote, which is from an interview he gave to the American Film Institute in 1970), except that Moffat can't let the audience be further ahead than the Doctor (because of the super-heroic way Moffat sees the Doctor's character). So, audience and characters alike know the bomb is there, but nobody knows exactly when it will explode. Although, actually, maybe we do...

Later in the same interview, Hitchcock made it clear that "The bomb must never go off" or otherwise "You’ve worked your audience into a state and then they’ll get angry because you haven’t provided them with any relief". Everyone watching knows on one or more levels that Ncuti Gatwa has a long-term contract, so he's not going to get vaporised in the third story of the season. Moffat's script therefore is a tightrope walk; as well as all the other restrictions he's set himself (unity of time and place, limited number of additional characters) he has to avoid the un-explosive ending being an anti-climax. For what could be more dull than the end of a tightrope walk, where the acrobat dismounts safely on the other side? Moffat succeeds, while managing to keep things from looking too much like a challenging writing exercise. He does this through the use of efficiently sketched-in emotional subplots: Mundy and Canto both like one another, but neither of them has realised it of the other (and then Canto's killed off); even in a holographic AI form, John Vater still loves his daughter Splice (and he's reduced to that form because he's been killed off). The propensity to kill characters off suddenly is one way that Moffat avoids the emotion turning into sentimentality. When Vater's AI overrides the algorithm to stop the bomb from going off and get the ambulance to save Ruby, it's very close to a 'power of love conquers all' ending; I'm sure some viewers took an almost allergic exception to it for that reason. I was fine with it, but then found that the moment later, where the hologram turns and waves to the Doctor and Ruby as they leave, was a bit too much. The main plot takes an unswerving line cutting through the emotional subplots. It's a masterclass in the effective gradual release of information to the viewer, with significant changes in the situation happening every couple of minutes.

It's a minor gripe, but the plot is a bit linear; the one reversal - that the humans are fighting no enemy, it's all been caused by the algorithm running a war on automatic for profit - is so telegraphed from so early on that I don't think it was supposed to be any kind of twist. This satirical intent of the script also mirrors some stories from Moffat's time as showrunner (it's the same basic plot as Oxygen, but for war rather than heavy industry) This is just one of many aspects that were very familiar from all of Moffat's work, almost like he was giving us his greatest hits. This isn't a problem, and might not even be deliberate. When it was pointed out in an interview that the forces of antagonism in this script were exactly the same as his first Doctor Who script The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances (technology connected to a battlefield ambulance ruthlessly pursuing its programmed remit even at the cost of human lives), the coincidence came as a complete surprise to him. Beyond that, there's mentions of the Villengard munitions company (also first mentioned in the Empty Child 2-parter), military clerics, a dead character still repeating a catchphrase over and over ("Kiss kiss"), a mention of fishfingers and custard, and the involvement of a character played by a child actor. The last on the list is probably the weakest link; it's not the performance exactly, it's just that the actor is too old to realistically be saying any of the dialogue they're given: they look at least 10 or 11 years old, whereas the script seems to be pitching a much younger child, who can't tell the difference been a real person and a hologram, of something like 4 or 5 years old. That aside, though, this is a triumphant return for the grand Moff with director and crew visualising his work using innovative technology in the studio.

Connectivity:

A third story on the trot, following Survival and The Hungry Earth / Cold Blood, about the dangers of conflict. The threat in both Boom and the Silurian 2-parter comes from below the Doctor's feet (or foot for the first section of the Ncuti story), and in both stories the backdrop of events is on a planetary scale but the story only features a few speaking parts.

Deeper Thoughts:

Scot freebie. As seen in both the BFI events recently described here (see the Deeper Thoughts section of the last two blog posts for more details), where panels of people were grilled about a single TV production that they were part of 36 years earlier, Doctor Who never truly leaves you. It's a show that makes people happy, and generations of fans remain forever enthusiastic to talk about it in detail, and celebrate those connected to it, both from in front of and behind the cameras. It therefore probably surprised Doctor Who fans less than others (like TV professionals, say) that Steven Moffat returned to Doctor Who as a jobbing writer when he'd once run the whole show. Moffat is a fan himself, and if he has a good idea for a Doctor Who story (as Boom definitely was, and as Joy to the World is anticipated to be - the Moffat-authored Christmas 2024 special is still to come at the time of writing) he will want it to be made. He presumably would feel a certain emptiness if it weren't. Besides, a Doctor Who story written by Steven Moffat is going to be better than anything else written by Steven Moffat, however good it might be (sorry Sherlock fans, but deep down you know it's true!). The big question that remains is whether he will ever be tempted back in future. There's got to be a good chance, I think. As long as Moffat is still writing and Doctor Who is still going, they will be at some level interlinked. Just look at the long-lasting relationship with the show of another Scot. Frazer Hines played companion Jamie alongside Patrick Troughton's Doctor from 1966 to 1969, and since then has continued to be actively associated with the show, including brief returns to play the role on TV in 1983 and 1985. The series didn't even need to still be going - he's appeared at many a Doctor Who event and been interviewed for many a Doctor Who feature or documentary, including in the years when the show wasn't on TV.

Hardback cover

The association continues to the present date, but its latest manifestation is something of a departure. Hines has turned author. He wrote (with ghost-writing assistance from two more seasoned Who novel writers) a new novelisation of 1967 story The Evil of the Daleks that was published in hardback in 2023. Both Sophie Aldred (who played Ace) and Bonnie Langford (Mel) have also co-authored Doctor Who books featuring their characters in recent years, but those were original stories. It's the first time a star of the show has written a novelisation. The story was previously novelised in the 1990s, but that version has long been out of print. There was also a neat reason for a second prose telling of the story to exist, as Evil of the Daleks is unique in being a Doctor Who story with an 'in universe' repeat. At the end of the story that introduced Zoe to the series, with her wanting to join the Doctor and Jamie on their travels, the Doctor gives her a demonstration of what she might be letting herself in for; he projects images of his memories as a complete story. There was then a brief bit of voice over of the Doctor and Zoe added to the beginning of the first part of the Evil repeat when it aired the following week. The rest of the story was then shown weekly to bridge the summer gap between Who seasons; there was even a reference back to the memory projection process in the first episode of the next season. As such, any collector of novelisations could slip this new book in between the novelisations of The Wheel in Space and The Dominators, even if they already had the 1990s version a few books to the left on their shelf. That could only happen for me if the book was brought out as a Target imprint paperback, though. I collect the paperbacks but not the hardbacks; plus, a lot of the TV stories were never released in novelised form in hardback, so for a full collection it has to be paperback.

DWM 609

I was therefore delighted but surprised to find that I wouldn't have to pay to get the paperback version of Hines' book. It was given away with Doctor Who Magazine issue 609 in October 2024 as a free gift, and I was already subscribed to the magazine. The book is elegantly put together, with the Target logo, and with a new cover in the house style of recent books. But it isn't available in bookshops; it's an exclusive to the magazine. I thought this was a bit odd, until I started reading the book. As I say, I don't collect the hardback books, but I've read enough reviews to know that Hines' hardback version of Evil of the Daleks is a full novelisation of the story as well as the additional framing device featuring Zoe. The paperback, though, is not a full version. Whether for reasons of space, or to maintain the hardback version's marketability (or, as I suspect, a bit of both) the Target paperback is abridged. Perhaps there was a worry that someone going out and paying for such a book would feel short changed, as a lot of material has been removed. The top and tail scenes featuring Zoe, written in the first person from Jamie's POV, are present and correct, but the chapters in between, written in third person limited style, condense the action drastically. Those that read my blog post on the story will know that I am in two minds about the amount of padding in Evil as transmitted. It's ridiculous how much of the action could be removed without impacting the plot, as the paperback novelisation demonstrates. It removes almost all of the first two episodes as they played out on the TV. There's no sequences in Gatwick Airport or in the Tricolour coffee bar; the action starts in Waterfield's antiques shop, with the Doctor and Jamie then rapidly transported back to 1866. The characters of Bob Hall and Keith Perry are excised completely, and Kennedy has a much reduced role.

Paperback cover

The remainder of the story focusses on the experiments in Maxtible's mansion to isolate the human factor, and the civil war on Skaro that results. Such focus is achieved by removing all subplots, and this again means that characters completely disappear from the narrative - there is no appearance from Ruth Maxtible, Arthur Terrall or Toby. There's a vestige of the hypnotism subplot left in there (Victoria can't remember how she got to be imprisoned, and Maxtible does get to practice his mesmerism once). As I said in the Evil blog post, the story's padding provides a lot of the colour and interest. Without that, the plot is very straightforward, and results in a story that probably would not be as well remembered to this day as is the transmitted version of Evil. The more visual sequences that remain, of Jamie and Kemel dealing with booby traps in the mansion, or Daleks fighting on Skaro, don't translate that well into prose. The focus on action also means there's less material showing the inner life of Jamie, his thoughts about the Doctor and the events of the narrative, which was a big reason to get Hines involved in shaping the prose in the first place. Without much of that (to be fair, there is still some left in the finished product) and with it not acting as a faithful retelling of the story as broadcast, it's hard to see a point to this version. In the final pages, though, whoever edited the book plays a blinder with an inserted bit of dialogue that can't have been in the hardback: Jamie asks the Doctor why he left out so much of the tale, even going so far as to namecheck the many characters that are missing. The Doctor explains that he didn't want to worry Zoe too much. So, the book therefore becomes its own thing, a third retelling of the same story in a different way. That just about nudges this into being an interesting curio rather than a failure, to my mind. At the time of writing, issue 609 of DWM is still available; so, if I haven't put you off, you could still get yourself a copy and see what you think.

In Summary:

Banging.

The Hungry Earth / Cold Blood

Chapter the 312th, which depicts the war between the land and slightly under the land.

Plot:

The Doctor, Amy and Rory land in a Welsh village in 2020 that is somehow populated only by one family (it's probably something to do with Covid restrictions, it being 2020). A nearby drilling project has penetrated to a record-breaking depth, but this seems to have woken up something under the ground. The father of the family Mo has gone missing, and based on the Doctor's investigations he was sucked down below the ground. Soon, Amy disappears this way too. Rory and the Doctor protect the others - Mo's son Elliot, Elliot's Mum Ambrose, Ambrose's Dad Tony, and Tony's colleague on the drill project Nasreen - when a group of creatures travel up from below and attack. Eliot is taken, but the Doctor and Rory manage to trap one of the creatures. It is a Silurian - one of the original inhabitants of the Earth from prehistory - called Alaya. The Doctor and Nasreen travel in the TARDIS to the Silurian city under the ground to negotiate a hostage exchange. They find a vast colony, most of whom are in suspended animation. Mo and Amy have been held there by a scientist Silurian Malohkeh, but manage to escape. They find Eliot in suspended animation, but can't release him, then catch up with the Doctor and Nasreen.

Silurian military commander Restac, who is a relative of Alaya's, wants to kill all the humans, but Malohkeh wakes up their leader Eldane who prevents this. Elliot is released. Meanwhile, on the surface, Tony is ill from a Silurian sting; this, plus fears for her missing son, leads Ambrose to torture and kill Alaya. Amy and Nasreen negotiate with Eldane on behalf of Earth. But Rory, Ambrose and Tony arriving with Alaya's body puts a bit of a dent in those proceedings. Tony has set the drill to destroy the Silurian underground city, but the Doctor sends a timed energy pulse to destroy the drill. Eldane agrees - a bit too readily - to put his people back in suspended animation and wait 1000 more years, with the humans agreeing to spread the word down the generations to prepare for an amicable solution at that time. Restac goes on the attack, killing Malohkeh. Eldane sets off toxic fumigation to force the Silurians back into hibernation, so Restac is without her army. Tony decides to stay and go into hibernation too, so he can be cured of the Silurian venom in a millennia's time. Nasreen stays with him. The others race to escape before the drill explodes. As they reach the TARDIS, they see the mysterious crack that's been following them around the universe. The Doctor risks pulling a piece of shrapnel out of the crack to see if he can work out what caused the explosion that fractured reality. Restac staggers into view, dying from the toxic fumes and shoots Rory. He falls near the crack, and the time energy escaping from it erases him from existence. Amy forgets him. After dropping Mo, Ambrose and Elliott home, the Doctor examines the shrapnel - it's a piece of the TARDIS door.

Context:

Watched from the disc in the series five Blu-ray box set in early October, with a week's gap in between the episodes. I was accompanied by two of my three children, boy of 15 and girl of 12 (the eldest is now living away from home at university, and we miss him). Both of them were tickled by the 'futuristic' setting of the year 2020, and made comments about nobody in the narrative wearing masks or socially distancing (but it could be set in January or February 2020, of course). The youngest proudly told me before the first episode that Doctor Who had featured in Heartstopper (characters are seen watching David Tennant in The Runaway Bride in the latest run of that Netflix series).

Milestone watch: I've been blogging new and classic Doctor Who stories in random order since 2015, and I'm now closing in on the point where I finish everything and catch up with the current stories being broadcast serially. Another domino falls, as this post marks the completion of eleventh Doctor Matt Smith's entire televisual Doctor Who era. This makes a total of four Doctors done so far (the seventh, eighth and fourteenth Doctors having been completed before Smith). This post also marks the completion of another season, the 29th out of the total of 40 seasons to date (at the time of writing): classic seasons 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10-12, 14-18, 20, 21, 23-26, and new series 2, 4, 5-7, 9-11, and 13).

First Time Round:

I always have trouble remembering my first impressions of Matt Smith stories; don't know exactly why. It's probably a combination of factors - it's a while ago now, the series wasn't as much of a novelty as the early period after the 2005 relaunch, and I had more going on in my life. What I have done in the past if I came up short was to use the First Time Round section to tell a completely different anecdote, mostly from the wilderness years when the show wasn't on TV as a regular series: nearly dying on New Year's Eve 1985, watching Blakes 7 videos with my school friend Paul, reading Doctor Who Magazine back copies rather than revising for my A-levels, interviewing for a university place in Durham, not attending a Doctor Who convention in my first week at university, being accused of shoplifting, attending a Tom Baker book signing, and what it felt like to be a fan in the slump between the years 2000 and 2003. I've run out of those anecdotes now, so will have to rack my brain for something that was going on in May 2010. Oh, of course, it was the beginning of the end of my country. A few weeks earlier (just before The Vampires of Venice) a general election in the UK had returned a hung parliament, so there were a few days of negotiations. Then, just before Amy's Choice, the leaders of the Conservative and Liberal Democrat parties, David Cameron and Nick Clegg, had made a speech from the Rose Garden behind 10 and 11 Downing Street. They had formed a coalition government, allowing the Conservatives (the majority partner) to systematically dismantle anything and everything good. Policies would have started to be announced around the time of the Silurian two-parter, including the Fixed Term Parliament Act, which mandated that there would be minimum five years before there was a chance to get them voted out. Maybe this is why I struggle to remember the period - at some conscious or subconscious level, I don't want to.

Reaction:

The problem with reviewing any story featuring Malcolm Hulke's lacertilian legions is what to call them. At various points they have been known as Silurians, Eocenes, Earth reptiles, Homo Reptilia and probably a few more handles I've forgotten. I will stick with Silurians; even though it is wrong, it was what they were first called. Another problem with the Silurians is that they are a great concept, but a difficult fit for Doctor Who stories. Their backstory is more complex and lengthy than some other villains, which is not the best for filling in new viewers with on the fly during an action adventure storyline. The Doctor dumps all the info over the audience in a speech in the second part of this story. In two times 45 minutes of story, why was there no opportunity to tease this information out more gradually? Well, most of the first episode withholds the Silurians' identity and appearance to ramp up the tension and excitement. I wouldn't necessarily want it done differently, as the first part is rather good. The scenes of characters being sucked under the Earth, the siege scenes with Silurians barely perceptible, zooming past the camera as a blur, the distorted POV of characters being experimented on by a Silurian in a surgical mask. It's all great. Sooner or later, though, if the concept is going to be treated appropriately, the horror movie has to turn into the more sedate drama of people sat round a table negotiating. Trying to meld those two halves together in a coherent way is difficult. The original Silurians story from 1970 is essentially the same, horror and action adventure at the start and end, negotiations in the middle. It probably seems more harmonious as a whole than the more jarring changes in the Matt Smith story only because the length (seven episodes) smooths out some of the joins.

I don't fault the writer Chris Chibnall or director Ashley Way. The flaw is built in to the central concept, which tries to have its cake and eat it by presenting the Silurians as both a set of horror monsters, and as a group of people with legitimate claims. For example, Alaya - the first Silurian we are presented with in the story - is aggressive and prejudiced against humans to a ridiculously heightened degree. She makes the race seem less than empathetic, undermining the second part; but, she has to be nasty enough to be killed by a human; if she isn't, then there wouldn't be any dramatic tension in that second part, where her death undermines any chance of a peaceful solution. The two conflicting halves cancel each other out. Even if Chibnall hadn't given Alaya the taunting and manipulative dialogue, she looks like a monster, so inevitably would appear to be one in the visual grammar of Doctor Who. Obviously, the one addition to Silurian biology made in this story, a whiplash tongue with venom sting, isn't helping matters either. Many would say that Alaya's just one of a species that are infinitely varied just like humans; but, one of the more peacenik Silurians is scientist Malohkeh, played by Richard Hope, and he experiments on people. Why spend the first episode framing him as Doctor Mengele if you want him to be sympathetic? For the thrills, obviously. When the potentially more sensible negotiations section starts, it has two randos representing Earth. This seems to stem from having so very few characters in the story, probably for reasons of narrative or production economy (or both). If the Silurians agreed to terms, though, how in hell would Amy Pond and Nasreen Chaudhry have then persuaded the nations and governments across the globe? It's silly, and glaringly obvious from the outset that things will go back to the status quo with the Silurians hibernating again, and the issues side-stepped.

This is problematic because of the real world analogues of this fictional conflict. It doesn't need much spelling out: "We have a claim to this place extending far back in time", "Yeah, well you haven't been around for a long time and we live here now", "We will retake this place, it's our historic birthright", "No way, where would we live?", "Not our problem, you need to make way for our settlements", "Not without a fight", etc. etc. These sort of conflicts have occurred throughout history right up to the present date, and therefore need to be treated sensitively. It's troublesome to interrogate such issues in dramatic form if one side are dressed as lizard people. Even if we could put aside the risk of crassness - it's only a fantasy show aimed at a family audience after all, not meaning to offend - what is the best we could discover? The morality of such conflicts is complex, and the best we are likely to end up with after 90 minutes is philosophy at approximately the level of Culture Club's The War Song. If we dispense with the backstory, we would just have Silurians doing traditional Doctor Who monster stuff; to be fair, that's what their creator Malcolm Hulke ended up doing. In the follow up to his first Silurian story, The Sea Devils, the earth reptiles are reformatted to just be action adventure antagonists with the moral complexity largely ignored. Similarly, Silurians have made many returns to Doctor Who after this 2010 reintroduction, but there haven't been any more land claim negotiations included in those stories. That aspect seems to have gone into permanent hibernation. At the time of writing, though, a Doctor Who spin off is in production featuring the Sea Devils, which from the title - The War Between the Land and the Sea - might just be dabbling in that moral complexity again. Perhaps over a five episode mini-series that doesn't have to be Doctor Who exactly it can be made to work.

Other points of note: the moments from the wider series arc are much more successful than the Silurian story. The mysterious crack turning up in the end is very unexpected and dramatic; Rory's death scene and the scene where Amy tries to hold on to her memories of him but fails were both well played and emotional. The reveal that the shrapnel the Doctor has pulled from the crack is a part of the TARDIS exterior is nicely intriguing. The new design of Silurian make-up is effective. The regular cast are all on good form, particularly Arthur Darvill as Rory. It's got a phenomenal guest cast. Neve McIntosh gets the most interesting material to work with, and makes an indelible impact in both of her two roles. She got to return regularly to play a more nuanced Silurian in future stories. Everyone else is wasted to a greater or lesser degree bringing life to dull characters. Enough time has now gone by for Meera Syal and Robert Pugh to come back to the series playing other roles; it's too late for Stephen Moore, alas. There was definitely mileage in a claustrophobic chiller with a small group of people trapped with a violent and manipulative Silurian; there was probably mileage in a grander, more epic story of two races trying to find peace; trying to do both dragged the resultant story down.

Connectivity:

The Hungry Earth / Cold Blood and Survival are both themed around the dangers of conflict; both feature sequences set underground and races that are anthropomorphised versions of creatures found on Earth (cheetahs in Survival, non-specific lizards in the Silurian 2-parter).

Deeper Thoughts:

From reptile scales underground to musical scales underground: Part 2 of The Happiness Patrol BFI events write-up, Q3 2024. At the end of the first part of this epic - see the Deeper Thoughts section of the Survival blog post - an email had arrived. A week after the wrong version of The Happiness Patrol was shown, the BFI contacted attendees including yours truly to generously and unexpectedly offer free tickets to a rescheduled event where the new special edition version would be showcased, definitely and for reals this time. As it was inserted into the schedule at the last minute, the new screening was at an awkward time, 4.30pm in the afternoon on a Sunday, 29th September (about a month after the initial screening); three of us (me, Chris and Alan) were still able to attend. The later than usual start made travelling up less frantic, and we met for a spot of Sunday lunch before the screening, then ambled along the South Bank to the BFI and took our seats in the NFT1 theatre. Hosts Justin Johnson and Dick Fiddy made merry with the unusual situation from the off: "Welcome to the monthly screening of The Happiness Patrol" said Johnson, with Fiddy joking that in a month's time they would be showing an 8mm black and white version. Turning serious for a brief moment, Johnson gave appreciation to everyone, audience and panel members, that had made it back for this rescheduled slot, but then added of Sheila Hancock that "She's been banned from today's event; she spoke too much". The first item on the agenda was the social media round-up, with Johnson suspecting that some people were now making comments in the run up to BFI events deliberately to get read out, as with the tweet saying that fans who attended both times could "say that they've been double-Dicked". Johnson deadpanned that he was "horrified" that anyone would think he ever used Dick's name as a double entendre.

NFT1

After the quiz, with a final jokey and rhetorical question ("What is the name, address and phone number of the person at the BBC that sent the wrong files?"), there was the first instance of what Fiddy jokingly called "Deja Who". Pete McTighe, a major creative force behind the Blu-ray range, instrumental in creating the special edition of The Happiness Patrol, was invited to the stage to whet the appetites of the assembled about what they were about to see. In other words, to give the same interview he had given a month before. He revealed from his pocket a Blu-ray of the correct version of the story that he'd brought "just in case", and again talked about the insertion of cut material and restructuring of the narrative that had been done to what he feels is an "underrated gem" featuring two stars of the show "at the height of their powers". Again, he highlighted that the intention was to build up the world of Terra Alpha more than could be done with the original budget of "20 quid and a ham sandwich". After McTighe, there was another returning guest: model-maker and puppeteer Stephen Mansfield. This time he hadn't brought the Fifi puppet with him, as it had been assumed that the same people would be attending as had done the previous month, so all would have seen it already. A quick poll of the audience with a show of hands demonstrated this view was only half right: the audience was about 50/50 split between single and double-Dickers (any free tickets that hadn't been claimed by original attendees were put on general sale). Mansfield came up with a few new comments for those of us that had been before. A crucial moment for him was Fifi's death scene, which comes at the end of the story but was shot early on. It is a "tall order" to expect a puppet to be convincing all the time, and he was worried until he saw the emotion that could be wrung from a good actor such as Sheila Hancock working with his co-creation. He relaxed after that.

Our hosts

The house lights then went down, and the first two episodes of the story (in the correct new edition, no doubt to many gasps of relief) were shown. I was skeptical going in, but what has been achieved in these updated episodes is miraculous. The CG backdrops can never have quite the detail or feel of physical sets shot on video, and yet there are seamless sequences where the camera pans from one to the other, or they both share the same frame. McTighe's world building aim has definitely been achieved. The narrative has more time to breathe, with additional scenes inserted of the Doctor and Ace exploring. Lesley Dunlop's Character Susan Q seemed to suffer most from the drastic editing for time that was done on the original, and there are many more sequences featuring her now. There's also much more humour, like the moment where the Kandyman says "I don't give interviews" or a character from this very bureaucratic world tells another that "You need a permit to hide here". There is some reordering of material, but nothing jars and things flow along nicely. It wasn't just the episodes that were new on this day in September; the BFI had done a good job in providing some new onstage content too. After the two-thirds point of the story had been reached, there was a brand new onstage panel focussing on the sonic aspects of the Happiness Patrol. This featured Dominic Glynn (composer of the incidental music for the Happiness Patrol), Adam Burney (the harmonica player featured on the story's soundtrack) and Mark Ayres (audio restoration whizz for the Blu-ray range, amongst many other things). Ayres commended the new edition version that we'd just seen, describing The Happiness Patrol as "a lost classic, hopefully now being able to shine a bit".

(L to R) Johnson, Fiddy, McTighe

Glynn thought the story was a "wonderful gift" as music was built into the script; plus, the styles required varied wildly from awful lift muzak to the soulful harmonica motifs. Burney, who was only 19 when he performed said motifs, explained that all his work took place after the TV studio sessions. Like many an auditioning actor ('of course I can ride a horse'), Richard D. Sharp, who played the harmonica player Earl Sigma in the story, had said he could play. On watching the footage it quickly became clear that he couldn't. Burney had to shape what he was playing to best match Sharp's movements: "I think we got away with it". Ayres explained that as part of his remastering job, he noticed there was one brief moment of Sharp's performance still in there, which came as a surprise to Burney. Sylvester McCoy's live Television Centre performance of the spoons is still intact on the original recordings, and survives to the new edition. To extend Glynn's original set of cues to cover the new material of that edition, Ayres used every trick in the book, stretching, looping, even playing some backwards. Just before the panel ended, Glynn mentioned that he'd also scored the last ever classic story Survival: "So, as I always like to say, I killed it off." "That was my job," shouted McCoy from his seat in the audience. The lights then went down again, and it was time for episode three. It wouldn't be possible to fix every issue with the script (see my original blog post on the story to see if you agree with me on what those issues are), but McTighe has managed to smooth over some things. The fact that there seems to be no audience in the forum, for example, is explained by there being a curfew in place that is highlighted in some of the CG additions. The death of the Kandyman is built up much more, and there is new model work and explosions to up the dramatic ante. The final frame after the credits is an "In Memory of" slide for the late writer of the story Graeme Curry, which was a lovely touch.

(L to R) Johnson, Fiddy, Mansfield

Pete McTighe came back onto the stage, this time accompanied by Chris Thompson, who had marshalled the new effects work we'd just seen. The chat with the two of them had been planned for the previous session, but couldn't take place once the wrong version of the story was shown. This was particularly tough on Thompson who lives in Belfast, and had to fly over twice. He showed the audience the new miniature of Helen A's escape craft, having made this - from many Kenner Star Wars toys stuck together - and many similar new models for new editions of the stories of season 25 for the box set. He had brought more of them over for the first BFI event, but unfortunately not this time as they'd been damaged in transit first time round: "The combined might of the Daleks and Cybermen was nothing compared to easyJet baggage reclaim". McTighe explained that a lot of the material reinserted came from early ('71') edits of the episodes that had been retained in the archive. Thompson also illustrated how ambitious McTighe had been in pushing for the scope of what could be changed in the story; Thompson had originally presented a plan with 20 new special effects shots; McTighe asked if they could have "an extra 40". Speaking for all of us, Johnson told them both that they had worked wonders. After a brief and nice moment of applause for the normally unsung BFI staff who were setting the stage up with more seats, the final panel of the day got underway. The panel a month earlier had been the biggest I'd ever seen at a BFI event; this one was was even bigger. Onto the stage, to much applause, came designer John Ashbridge, director Chris Clough, script editor Andrew Cartmel, guest actor Rachel Bell (who played Priscilla P), plus the star duo of Sophie Aldred and Sylvester McCoy.

(L to R) Johnson, Fiddy, Glynn, Burney, Ayres

There wasn't a single repeated anecdote from this final panel. The organisers of the event from both BFI and BBC deserve kudos for getting the key players back, finding new people to attend too, and keeping it fresh. Initial questions went to the two people who hadn't been present a month before; Bell had enjoyed seeing her younger self and loved the special edition, adding that she was "going to have to watch the original"; "Some of us did that quite recently," replied Johnson, to much merriment from the audience. Ashbridge gave a dramatic pause on being asked what he thought of the new version before replying that he thought it was "absolutely stunning"; "Phew!" said Johnson; more merriment. "If only Chris [Clough] and I could have done that first time". Clough explained that the 'fondant surprise' death of the Kandyman couldn't be shown in full in the original as it would have been impossible to have so much liquid in the studio. Later, Clough was asked how they achieved the fluid seen flowing into pipes in the Kandy kitchen: "God knows". Johnson talked to McCoy about some comments he'd made at the previous Happiness Patrol event, about the show being a vehicle for politics, that had subsequently made the news. McCoy was unrepentant, of course, and mentioned in his reply that his one stipulation on getting the part was that the Doctor never use a gun. He said that the Doctor would always "use this" pointing to his head, and added that this constituted good acting "as there's nothing there". Picking up on the drama with messages theme, a couple of the panel pointed out that there is a line in The Happiness Patrol about banning demonstrations, "And that's now, isn't it?!".

(L to R) Johnson, Fiddy, McTighe, Thompson, Escape ship model

Bell reminisced about taking her two children (aged seven and nine at the time) to the studio, and also a separate time when all the Happiness Patrol trooped in together to the canteen, where their short skirts were reportedly popular with some of the diners. The shortness of the skirt also led to a floor manager's comment relaying instructions from the gallery, which Bell retold: "Can you tell Rachel to put her legs closer together, please?". McCoy thought on first seeing the guest cast assembled "Oh my God, it's the Royal Shakespeare Company". Aldred remembered that before her first ever studio session, she didn't know where Television Centre was, so asked Bonnie Langford ("I figured she'd probably been there [while] in the womb"). Ashbridge had recently watched all the Doctor Who stories he'd designed for an interview by Doctor Who Magazine, and decided that The Happiness Patrol was his favourite - as it was studio-based, he had full control over the look, even though there were huge challenges equating the vision of the script with the resources and technical ability available. When Bell was asked if she was ever remembered by anyone for Doctor Who she said no, but added that this was because she's not recognisable as her younger self. She related the sort of exchanges she now gets with the public: "I know you?" "Oh?" "Yes. Don't you work in M&S?". Everyone loved the design of the Kandyman, though Cartmel said his first thoughts on seeing it were "That's fantastic - they're going to get sued"! McCoy thought that David John Pope had such poor vision in the Kandyman costume that he was lucky not to cut his own finger off in the scene when the character does the same. During a discussion about the proclivity of 80s TV to feature gunge (like the fondant surprise in Happiness Patrol), the TV show Tiswas was mentioned; "Ooh, I was in Tiswas" said McCoy somewhat wistfully.

(L to R) Johnson, Fiddy, Ashbridge, Clough, Cartmel, Bell, Aldred, McCoy 

There were a fair few comments about the flimsiness of the Police Box prop that was taken on location to perform as the TARDIS. McCoy also noted that people used to use the interior as a public convenience. He acted out being inside it holding his nose, desperately waiting for a cue: "Please say action"! It was such a chatty panel that there probably wasn't a need for an interviewer, although Johnson did need to shush them when they were nattering away while an audience member was waiting to ask their question. A great audience question asked was about who should be cast if ever there was a docu-drama of the making of 1980s Doctor Who. After it was confirmed to him that the suggested person was still alive, McCoy put forward TV astrologer from years gone by Russell Grant to play producer John Nathan-Turner. Kit Harington was suggested for Andrew Cartmel. A person to play McCoy proved harder. As Clough put it: "Sylv's unique". After briefly suggesting himself "I'd do it again", McCoy thought Johnny Depp could play him ("He's a bit dodgy though"); Sophie mentioned Ben Whishaw to play McCoy. One of the last audience questions compelled Rachel Bell to say "Were there any sexual problems?", which I'd say only about 10% of the audience understood, but I was one of them (google "Dear John UK" if you are similarly in the dark). Then, it was all over, and we decamped to the bar. Johnson said at one point of the special edition that it was definitely worth a month long wait, and he's right. As testament to this, Chris - probably the most difficult to please of our group of regular BFI attendees - loved it. At the time of writing, there's only a couple of weeks before the box set is released, and I can't wait to see what has been done with the special editions of the other three stories in the season.

In Summary:

War, war is stupid and people are stupid, and love means nothing in some strange quarters...

Survival

Chapter the 311th, it was 1989 but the cats were still much better than in 2019.

Plot:

The Doctor takes Ace back to Perivale, but nobody seems to be around. This isn't just because it's a Sunday, but because people are going missing, including some of Ace's old mates. The Doctor investigates some black cats that he spots in the area, buying some cat food from a shop run by Hale and Pace to tempt them out. They are kitlings, psychic creatures that can be used to aid hunters in tracking down prey. Someone mysterious (it's the Master, obvs) is using them to track the Doctor. Ace encounters one of the hunters in a recreation ground - it is a half-human half-Cheetah creature on horseback. It gives chase and when it catches her, it transports Ace and itself to an alien planet. Ace finds her friends Shreela and Midge there with a young lad called Derek. They have all been surviving as best they can there since they were transported; another of Ace's old friends Stevie has been killed. The Doctor is also transported to the planet alongside a keep fit instructor / TA soldier Paterson. At an encampment with many Cheetah people outside, the Doctor is greeted by the Master. He has brought the Doctor there to help him escape. The planet is sentient and alters people the longer they stay there, turning them in to Cheetah people. The Master is already changing. Original settlers on the planet, who bred the kitlings, thought they could control the planet's power but succumbed. The hunters and kitlings can only seem to transport people one way (as the Doctor puts it, they can only return home with their prey). Escaping the Master, the Doctor and Paterson meet up with Ace's party. During a Cheetah person attack, Midge kills a Cheetah person and Ace wounds one. This starts them both on the path to becoming Cheetah people, meaning that they will be able to take people home.

The Master uses Midge to return to Earth, the Doctor and the others use Ace. Shreela and Derek thank Ace and the Doctor and rush off home; Paterson is less grateful and goes off to teach a keep fit class to some teens. There, he finds that the Master and Midge have used the Cheetah planet power to entrance the group of lads he was set to teach. They kill Paterson. The Doctor and Ace track the Master and Midge to Horsenden Hill where the Doctor and Midge race towards each other on motorcycles (it's not clear what this is supposed to achieve). When the bikes collide, Midge is killed but the Doctor is thrown clear. The Master and his gang advance on Ace, who cannot fight without sealing her fate and changing for good. A Cheetah person she had formed a bond with on the planet, Karra, arrives and chases the group off. The Master kills Karra. The Doctor catches up with the Master in Perivale and is transported back to the planet (the Master calls it 'his new home'); the Master is full-on feral now, and their conflict is causing the planet's destruction. The Doctor is also coming under the planet's influence and just stops himself from attacking the Master. Just as the Master is about to strike, the Doctor transports himself back to his home, the TARDIS, leaving the Master behind as the planet dies in flame. The Cheetah people transfer to some other place and the hunt goes on. The Doctor finds Ace, and they walk off towards new adventures, the Doctor making a speech as if he knows this is the end of the last ever episode of the classic series...

Context:

As will be detailed more in the Deeper Thoughts, I was lucky enough to get tickets for The Happiness Patrol BFI event at the end of August 2024 to tie in with the final Sylvester McCoy Blu-ray box set (of season 25, Sylv's second run from 1988, the year before Survival). As soon as I knew I was going to be able to publish my write-up of the event, I knew I'd need a suitable story with which to pair it. There couldn't be anything random (aside from the BBC's Blu-ray release schedule) about which story to pick as I only had one of McCoy's stories left. So, I overrode random selection, and Survival it was. The story was viewed from the Blu-ray disc, all in one go, one evening in early September. I then had to wait another month before I could publish the blog as the one event at the BFI turned into two, and I wanted to write them both up close together (more on that is also outlined in the Deeper Thoughts section below).

Milestone watch: I've been blogging new and classic Doctor Who stories in random order since 2015, and I'm now closing in on the point where I finish everything and catch up with the current stories being broadcast serially. This post marks the completion of another Doctor's entire televisual era, making a total of three Doctors done so far; the seventh Doctor (as portrayed by Sylvester McCoy) follows the recent completion of Paul McGann's eighth Doctor and David Tennant's fourteenth Doctor. Neither of those other two had much in the way of an era, though. Sylv is the first to be completed who had the role over multiple seasons, and I will miss the wee fellow. This post also marks the completion of another season, the 28th out of the total of 40 seasons to date (at the time of writing): classic seasons 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10-12, 14-18, 20, 21, 23-26, and new series 2, 4, 6, 7, 9-11, and 13).

First Time Round:

The final Doctor Who story of the classic era, and - even after much experience in using a VCR for the previous four years - I still couldn't capture the whole thing onto a video tape. I was out for the second episode, and the programmed recording didn't work, so I only saw the first and last parts of Survival. I mentally pieced together the action that I'd missed as best I could, but didn't see the story in full until the sell-through VHS came out in October 1995. As the original broadcast was during a period I was most disconnected from Doctor Who news, I did not have any idea that this was going to be the last story for a good while, but I definitely remember picking up on the hopeful yet elegiac tone of the Doctor's final monologue and having some suspicions. The Doctor Who news I did get at the time was from the tabloid press, where a few months earlier in the Summer I'd read a story telling me that Gareth Hale and Norman Pace, UK comedy stars of the time, were going to be appearing in the series; aside from that, everything was a surprise.

Reaction:

There is often mention that Survival anticipated the 2005 series vibe (mainly because it features a housing estate). There's only a very short sequence in the block of flats, though; the rest of the earthbound sequences in the story are set in suburban rather than urban spaces. The decision to set and make this story in contemporary Perivale might have been forced upon the production by the offhand mention of Ace's home town when she was first introduced a couple of years earlier (perhaps producer John Nathan-Turner was working through an alphabetical list of suitable SE locations, the last companion before Ace came from Pease Pottage), but they make the most of it. Doctor Who often makes comparisons between the ordinary and extraordinary, but mostly just in dialogue - Survival makes the counterpoint a key visual feature of the story, cutting back and forth between alien vistas and a recognisable suburbia of convenience stores, milkmen, youth clubs and people washing their cars. It's rare and refreshing to see Doctor Who set in a place that was, not to put too fine a point on it, exactly like where I lived at the time (and no doubt a lot of viewers like me). I'd grown up watching Doctor Who on a street and in a house very similar to those being depicted - the alien was now invading my world. Doctor Who had never done this before (a short sequence where Sarah Jane is dropped off in a suburban street in The Hand of Fear is the only thing that came close); it took them to the very end of the classic series to do it. It's not really been done much since, either (Fear Her is the only example that comes to mind). It gives the story a unique energy and atmosphere, and - although it wasn't planned this way - works as a distillation of Doctor Who, and this era of it in particular, for the series' final outing on TV.

Taking the world of tooth and claw survival represented by the Cheetah planet back to the 1980s London of wannabe yuppies, with Midge's slick 80s suit and motorbike being the most obvious signifiers, highlights the political nature of the story's underlying theme. Thatcherism is being criticised here more precisely than in something seemingly more satirical like The Happiness Patrol (see Deeper Thoughts for more on that story). The Doctor screaming out the same phrase "If we fight like animals, we'll die like animals" in both environments at the climax to underline the parallel is subversive and radical, but wouldn't trouble anyone for whom the theme has whizzed overhead without being caught. They can still enjoy this as an action adventure. That's down to very good writing, script editing and direction. Survival's not quite perfect on that score, but it's tending towards perfection. Like other three-parters of McCoy's tenure, it has a few too many characters - this is most obvious at the start of episode three when, having been returned safely from the alien planet, a few people say happy goodbyes and rush off never to be seen again when there's still a third of the running time left. It's much better managed than in previous years, though; none of these characters had unnecessary subplots cluttering up the narrative, and the other three-part story of the year (Ghost Light, broadcast before but made after Survival) was even tighter. Watching, one just feels in one's bones that these people should be given another year to hone things, as they are so close to getting it 100% right. Alas, it wasn't to be. The significant characters are fully fleshed out anyway, so a little clutter didn't detract.

Foremost amongst the characters in the guest cast given material with which to shine is Anthony Ainley as the Master. This might not seem that unusual to the uninitiated; he is the lead antagonist and a recurring guest cast member who's worked on the series on and off for a decade, after all. But he's never before been given any kind of motivation, let alone a credible and interesting one as he is here. Ainley's a decent actor, so his performance - putting on an urbane front as he is wrestling with the beast within that threatens to overpower him, then finally giving in to it at the end in a violent tussle, consumed by the urge to destroy the Doctor - is effortlessly the best he gave in the series. It is flights above the panto moustache-twirling he usually had to deliver. Julian Holloway as Patterson is also excellent, paired with the Doctor for most of the running time and providing both comic relief and dramatic complication, while finding a good balance between the two. It's such a fun performance that it's almost a shame he has to die, the script making a sacrifice of a character who on the surface was ruthless but was revealed to be a coward underneath. It's sad to note that the character was running a service of youth outreach of a type that, however bleak the 1980s is painted in Survival, is much less likely to exist in 2024. Midge is perhaps just a smidge under-written meaning that a few of his lines and actions seem difficult for Will Barton playing him to get a handle on, but this is a tiny quibble and it's mostly a good performance. Sophie Aldred gets some interesting material reacting to the attraction of the alien planet as personified in Lisa Bowerman's Cheetah person Karra (though based on writer Rona Munro's comments since, the intended lesbian subtext ended up much toned down from what she had wished).

There's some great dialogue from Munro (and a nice little speech dubbed on the end written by script editor Andrew Cartmel when it was becoming obvious that this would be the last Doctor Who story broadcast for a while) and some strong science-fiction concepts: a planet whose influence starts to change those that stick around on it for too long, with their base instincts to hunt and kill activated and having to be resisted, is an interesting idea for Doctor Who. Watching characters - even, towards the end, the controlled and controlling seventh Doctor - succumbing to this power really upped the thrill factor of the story. Then there's the kitlings, feline carrion that look like black cats who can transport themselves between worlds and form psychic links with the humans that train them; then, there's the conflict being played out on the planet being directly linked to the planet's disintegration; then there's the concept that those turning into Cheetah people can only transport themselves in one direction because they can only return to their home with their captured prey. This creates the drama in the middle episode where everyone is waiting for someone whose home is Earth to change, and therefore offer them all a hope of escape. This volume of integrated and innovative ideas is rare in any Doctor Who, only seen before in Christopher Bailey's Mara stories earlier in the decade. Munro's similar journey into the dark places of the inside is expertly realised by the various creative persons working on the story. Alan Wareing gets great performances and creates some interesting visuals: the Cheetah people's planet is filmed in a quarry like many a Doctor Who planet over the years, but judicious choice of angles and application of video effects make it feel like a truly alien locale.

Also going above and beyond to create atmosphere in the story is composer Dominic Glynn. Just as in the previous year's story The Happiness Patrol (see Deeper Thoughts) Glynn creates the character of an entire planet with his expert application of instruments and motifs; in Survival, a mournful, wailing electric guitar accompanies the scenes on the alien planet, with piano used to underscore scenes in Perivale. Script, direction and music come together for some truly great dramatic moments, my favourite being the scene where Ace - believing the Doctor to be dead - is advanced upon by a group of thugs under the Master's command. She chants to herself that she must not fight (or she'll change into a Cheetah person for good) but still they advance. The only place where the stunt action of the script isn't realised very well is in the sequence immediately before this where the Doctor and Midge collide on motorbikes. It's unnecessary to the plot, and was just a bit too ambitious to be realistically staged. The realisation of the Cheetah people comes in for stick from some, but I think it's perfectly acceptable. The body and costumes are really rather good; the masks slightly less good, but still okay. Not so effective is any attempt to depict a dead cat on screen (they just look cuddly toys), and the animatronic kitling doesn't convince (it looks like an un-cuddly toy). I'm not sure whether they even needed the animatronic version particularly, though perhaps they didn't want to be left wholly at the mercy of the animal performers and their handlers - getting all the footage they needed that way would have been like herding cats, I suppose. 

Connectivity:

My blog post for Survival was originally planned to follow The Curse of Fatal Death which would have neatly meant two stories on the trot featuring the Master as an adversary where he's been genetically cross-spliced with another alien baddie, both followed by a reasonably large gap before the show would be seen on BBC1 again. Alas, the snafu at the BFI (see Deeper Thoughts below for more details) meant the Survival post was delayed a few weeks. Luckily, there's still a connection to highlight between Survival and the story it now comes after on the blog, Real Time: both stories feature an established comedy double-act playing a more dramatic double-act in the story.

Deeper Thoughts:

From Black Cats to Pink Ladies: Part 1 of The Happiness Patrol BFI events write-up, Q3 2024. In an inadvertent first, the humble little Happiness Patrol (as we will see, felt by many to be an unloved tale) is the only Doctor Who story ever to have two BFI events to tie in with its release on Blu-ray. On August 31st, the plan was that the new special edition of the story made for the Blu-ray would be shown along with the usual panels, quiz, etc. I was the most relaxed I'd ever been attending a screening that final morning of August 2024, because I had no travelling to do. I'd stayed over in London the night before (the Better Half had met up with friends for an event at the Royal Festival Hall on the Friday night, so we booked the evening in a hotel on the South Bank and enjoyed a London mini-break). I was able to meet long-term fan friend David for a leisurely breakfast, then amble over to the BFI to meet the others (Chris, Alan, Scott) at the BFI. Maybe this was why I wasn't particularly put out when they started showing the wrong version of The Happiness Patrol on the big screen. Before that, when we were settled in the auditorium of NFT1, things had started as usual: hosts Justin Johnson and Dick Fiddy walked out on stage, and lots of people took photos including yours truly. "I don't know," said Johnson "How many Dick pics do you need?!" They started with a round-up of social media comments with someone online suggesting that everyone should be wearing pink to attend as was done for the Barbie movie screenings in cinemas in 2023. "Most of our audience look more like Oppenheimer," said Fiddy drily.

There was then the usual quiz; one of the prizes was a self-assembly Kandyman action figure (i.e. a bag of Liquorice Allsorts); nobody could answer the question of whom Sylvester McCoy played in fan video The Zero Imperative, so they gave Sylv himself the prize as he at least could remember he played a Doctor, if not the Doctor (it was Doctor Colin Dove, fact fans). After that, the first interviewee asked up to the stage was Pete McTighe, one of the major creative forces behind the Blu-ray range, who had been instrumental in creating the special edition of The Happiness Patrol. The aim of this first interview - unfortunately, as it turned out - was to talk up this new edition to whet the appetites of the assembled about what they were about to see. McTighe commended the creativity and persistence of everyone involved in the original production, in front of and behind the cameras (his mention of Sheila Hancock's performance as Helen A got a big round of applause). His idea was that the special edition would help the original production out with some effects that they wouldn't have had the time or money to create, to help in world building. McTighe had access to over 60 hours of footage, not all but some of which is on the Blu-ray in its raw form. A lot of the material that was cut for time has been reintroduced, meaning each of the three episodes is now at least 30 minutes long. Some restructuring of scenes has also been done, particularly in the first episode, which reportedly makes the story flow and feel different. McTighe talked about extending the sequence of the Kandyman's death, and jokingly apologised for the spoiler. Johnson asked if anyone in the audience had never seen the story before, and a couple of hands did go up. McTighe was due to be back on stage later to talk more about the special edition once we'd all seen it, but that was destined not to happen.

(L to R) Johnson, Fiddy, McTighe

After McTighe left the stage, a statement from Happiness Patrol's writer Graeme Curry's family was read out. They were in the audience, but probably thought they would be too emotional to make the statement in person on stage; it brought a tear to the eye. Curry died in 2019, and it seems that for most of the time after his only Doctor Who story's broadcast until 2019, he only heard negative things about the story, though in later years he did become aware that it had a few fans out there. It is a shame that he didn't live to see how well the story he wrote, as broadcast in 1988 and without any further changes, went down with the audience at the BFI in August 2024. For that was the version that was shown. It was clear from the first scene after the credits that something was up; if the idea of the special edition was to add effects shots to better build the world of Terra Alpha, then one would expect to open with something a bit grander than how the original version started. After a few more minutes, the picture froze and the lights came up. Johnson came on stage and explained that the wrong version had been sent, and we were watching the standard version of the story. They were looking at a way to rectify the situation, but it seemed unlikely that they could get the correct version to the BFI now before the allotted slot for the day's event ran out. He apologised again before going offstage, but said "This is what the BBC sent - to throw them under the bus"! The first episode then resumed, and was followed by the second, again as broadcast in 1988. You can find my write up of the story for the blog here, but I have to note that I was much more positive watching the story in the BFI than I was back in 2018.

(L to R) Fiddy, Mansfield, Fifi

I could probably do some clever-clever remarks at this juncture about the people in the audience - like the populace of Terra Alpha - being scared to seem unhappy, but they reacted honestly and warmly to what they were seeing, even though it wasn't what they were expecting. I was swept along too: it's a funny script and elicited many big laughs from the crowd; in character and out, McCoy and Aldred are a fun duo to spend time with; all that material that was cut makes it rattle along at a fair old clip; the music and the visualisation of the Kandyman and Fifi are superlative. Talking of the latter, Fifi was the next guest invited onto the stage after the end of the second episode. Well, strictly speaking it was Stephen Mansfield, creature creator and puppeteer, who with Susan Moore built some of the nasties of the McCoy era including Helen A's pet. Johnson and Fiddy, coming back on with a 'show must go on' attitude, talked about a routine disappearance style punishment for whoever it was at the BBC that had screwed up, and then invited Mansfield onto the stage. With him came something balanced on a dais and hidden under a cloth (and it was fairly easy to guess what). Mansfield talked about the particular position he was put in doing his puppetry work to bring Fifi to life on set, which was mostly on the floor sticking his hand up between Sheila Hancock's legs. His journey to restoring Fifi started when rummaging in a props lockup (which also contained puppets from 1980s satire show Spitting Image and the Destroyer from Doctor Who story Battlefield whose latex had "gone crispy"). He saw Fifi looking forlorn, its expression almost "imploring" him, so decided to return the puppet to its former glory. The air bladder control that made the eyes move still works, and - once Fifi had been revealed with a theatrical flourish - this was demonstrated on stage.

Fifi

The final episode was shown next, followed by some clips from the Value Added Material of the Blu-ray set; there was the set's trailer, an excerpt from Looking For Dursley (a documentary about Remembrance of the Daleks guest star Dursley McLinden), and a section from Googlebox style extra Behind the Sofa with various Who luminaries commenting on The Happiness Patrol. It all looks great, as usual. Once that was done, the main panel came out - it was the largest I've seen at a BFI Doctor Who event for some time with five people involved in the production coming up on stage for Q&A: director Chris Clough, Script Editor Andrew Cartmel, main guest star Sheila Hancock, who played Helen A, and stars Sophie Aldred and Sylvester McCoy. Hancock was the biggest draw, and did dominate a little bit, but it was a lively panel in general, and everyone got a chance to shine. Hancock made it clear up front that she hadn't understood what was going on in the plot at all, but thought that it was an explosion of creativity, extolling the virtues of the effects, costumes, and make up. "You were good too, darling," she added to Sylv. She could see that it was a story with a moral, and that it did "sum up a dreadful period" of 1980s Thatcherism, but "I never followed the plot ... those little people, who the hell were they?". This instigated the first of many moments through the remainder of the event where Cartmel explained aspects of the story to Hancock. Later on, she queried what the point of the man wandering around with the harmonica was, and it's a good question to be fair. Early on, Cartmel highlighted how good the music - including the harmonica - was, and namechecked composer Dominic Glynn. Sticking with the musical theme, McCoy in typical self-deprecating style said that his "one talent" was playing the spoons, as he does to accompany the harmonica playing in one scene.

Sylv makes an entrance

When asked what he'd made of watching a story he performed in at a much younger age, McCoy said he was asking himself all the way through "Who is that chap, I recognise him?". There was a lively discussion amongst the panel members about the campness of the story, with many putting forward the view that underneath the trappings there was a lot of darkness, while others nonetheless thought it was "ultra camp, though" with the "pink TARDIS" being a giveaway. Cartmel explained that what might not come across is that the Doctor and Ace have landed in the "bad part of town" where infrastructure was crumbling but had facades erected to mask this, as in parts of "New Orleans or Venice". Clough outlined that they had filmed scenes with the cameras tilted to give a film noir effect, but once they fell behind schedule that was abandoned. The soundbites started to come so thick and fast that I didn't always have time to scribble down who said what. Aldred said that you can "Thank Chris [Clough]" for her performances throughout the series, new and old, as "He cast me", "So he's to blame," added someone - probably Sylv. Cartmel talked about Bassetts (the company in the UK famous for their liquorice sweets) getting upset about the potential breach of copyright that the Kandyman represented. "Who could have seen that coming?!" joked someone. "Ronnie Fraser was off the booze at that time" (that must have been Hancock); "You're obsessed by bike leathers"; "We are a cultured country"; "Nadine Dorries!". The story was initially seen as one that was badly received, but Cartmel thought that had changed of late, with it being embraced by a younger generation; "Well, they like sweets" said one wag. Someone, probably Clough, felt nostalgic at the wrong files being delivered to the BFI; it put him in mind of many a BBC cock-up he'd experienced in years gone by.

(L to R) Johnson, Clough, Cartmel, Hancock, Aldred, McCoy

A good-natured disagreement occurred between Cartmel and Johnson; the latter had an interesting fact written down on a card that The Happiness Patrol was the last Doctor Who story made wholly in studio until 2024's Boom, but Cartmel thought that Ghost Light also qualified. Ghost Light, as the obsessive fans in the audience (guilty as charged) knew, featured some establishing shots taken on location during the production of Survival. A question about making guest casts feel comfortable elicited a standard response from Sophie about Sylv being a good company leader, but Hancock bristled a bit about the suggestion that it was good to make things 'fun'. "Are you a killjoy?" asked someone whom I again did not have the chance to record, such was the speed at which the comments were coming. Hancock explained that after working long and hard on productions, she never liked it when the uninitiated said that "'It must be such fun.' Fun? This is my job, it's not a hobby!" Cartmel revealed that, although he and Curry had had Thatcher in mind as the template for Helen A, they had not passed this on to Hancock, who had come to it naturally in reaction to the script. When McCoy was talking about being told about the cancellation of Doctor Who, Hancock enquired whether more had been made after Happiness Patrol and was told that there had been another year of stories. "So, it wasn't this one that finished you off?" she asked, sounding a little relieved. McCoy shared something that I've never heard him say before, that a 1963 speech by the then UK leader of the opposition Harold Wilson led to the creation of Doctor Who, as the BBC were then inspired to make a scientific show. It's completely untrue, alas: this was the famous 'White Heat of Technology' speech that Wilson gave at his party conference; online sources differ as to whether it was presented in early October or late September, but either way Doctor Who was late on its development and had started production by then.

Towards the end, the panel took a more serious turn with a discussion about how Doctor Who was rated in the 1980s. Aldred and McCoy showed their usual positivity; when asked what was their personal legacy from Doctor Who, McCoy talked about how its allowed him to travel all over the world; Aldred answered " A pension" to laughs and added, hugging McCoy, "And a brilliant friend" to cheers. Clough, though, talked with maybe even a tinge of bitterness about the "career killer" that was having Doctor Who on one's CV. Everyone agreed that show business is a very snobby business, and Hancock pointed out that it wasn't just Doctor Who but all TV that tended to be looked down on, citing people referring to her late, great husband John Thaw dismissively as "a telly actor". All seemed to agree that - though TV without any purpose "disappears into the ether and is just bubblegum" - the best TV has messages within it. This was what drew McCoy to Doctor Who as a viewer in the 1960s. Clough talked with passion about his work on Brookside in the 1980s up to 2024's impactful Mr Bates vs The Post Office, which he produced. Whether he would add The Happiness Patrol to such an illustrious list was not made clear, but clearly it has a message and speaks to people. The event wound up and we left the auditorium for the BFI bar. I discussed the story with one of my viewing buddies Chris, who is a little more difficult to please than me. It became instantly clear that the issues I'd noted when I blogged the story are definitely there. As Sheila Hancock instinctively noticed, there is no real reason to include the pipe people or the harmonica player in proceedings, and there's many other examples along those lines. The story clearly has an effect on the audience despite these problems, though. Perhaps it isn't necessary for something to be coherent to be meaningful?

I wondered whether the special edition would have uncovered a more integrated narrative to back up the story's great premise, but assumed I would have to wait until the Blu-ray was released to find out. An email sent a week after the event would prove that assumption to be wrong... 

(With thanks to Scott and Alan for some of the BFI pictures.)

In Summary:

Ultimately it wasn't the end, but - if it had been - it would have been a great story to go out on.