Showing posts with label William Hartnell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Hartnell. Show all posts

Monday, 6 April 2026

The Nightmare Begins + Devil's Planet

Chapter the 346th, which features an unexpected return.


Plot:
The Doctor and Katarina land on the planet Kembel trying to find help for Steven, who's stricken with illness after he was injured during a violent tussle in Ancient Troy. Space Security agent Bret Vyon is also on the planet, trying to get word back to Earth that the Daleks are planning on taking over the universe. Bret has an altercation with the Doctor, and then bluffs his way into the TARDIS past the trusting Katarina. Bret provides some tablets that help Steven to recover and eventually they all realise they're on the same side. Later, having escaped in the spaceship of traitorous Earth politician Mavic Chen, the TARDIS team and Bret are brought down on the penal planet Desperus. They fend off the local convicts until they can repair the ship and escape, but one criminal has crept aboard...  

Context:
For my last couple of years of blogging, I regularly added a 'Milestone Watch' section to each blog post, counting down the few remaining stories as I watched them in random order. I had reached a point of completion at the end of 2025, having blogged all of Doctor Who's TV stories and many of its spin-offs and oddities. How wonderful then to find that only a few months into 2026, I would have to start counting up. I discovered about the return of these two previously missing episodes on the morning of Friday 13th March 2026. The sun had not long come up, but the Whatsapp group chat with my fan friends was already alight, the messages having started just after midnight when the news first broke. Three weeks later, on Good Friday 2026, the 3rd of April, it was another early start. I didn't manage to get up at 6am (the time the episodes first landed), but around an hour and a half later I sat down to watch episodes 1 and 3 of The Daleks' Master Plan from the BBC iplayer while the rest of the family continued to enjoy an Easter lie-in.


First Time Round:
The 2018 blog post covering the full story of which The Nightmare Begins and Devil's Planet are part can be found here. As said there, I first experienced this story in increments over a number of years, seeing the orphaned episodes as they were discovered and released, and catching up with the full audio recordings separately. These two new episodes are a very welcome new increment, but do they constitute the end of the Daleks' Master Installment Plan? There are seven episodes plus a one-part teaser from earlier in the season remaining to be found, so the story is only 38% complete. It would be lovely if the missing episodes strongly rumoured to survive in other private collections, when returned - and I do believe now that they will eventually be returned - turn out to be more episodes of this epic tale. But it would be just as wonderful if they came from any other story that's wholly or partly missing from the archives. It's a win-win for Doctor Who fans, really, so a big thank you to Film is Fabulous!, the charity that was instrumental in ensuring that these episodes, amongst other finds, were preserved for future audiences to enjoy.


Reaction:
As touched upon in the First Time Round section immediately above, these episodes formed part of a  story that had a somewhat unusual transmission pattern when shown for the one and only time in 1965/1966. First, the story was about twice the length of the longest stories made to that point. Second, it had a teaser episode shown in advance that featured none of the regular cast, but teed up the story to come. Third and finally - and somewhat bizarrely - it had a completely unconnected story broadcast in between that starter and the main 12-part main course. This was The Myth Makers, another story that sadly has episodes missing from the archive (all of them, in its case). The title of that story took on a life of its own, though, when it was used for a decades long series of fan-made videos featuring interviews with Doctor Who alumni, both from in front of and behind the cameras. The appropriated title seems to be suggesting that the many people interviewed over the years from throughout Doctor Who's long history built up the mythology with the programmes to which they contributed. It's only when watching these two episodes of The Daleks' Master Plan that I suddenly felt the title of that video series was doing its interviewees a slight disservice: they contributed to something much better than myths. The real myth makers were those responsible for the policies, or lack of policies, that meant episodes were junked and gaps were created in Doctor Who's archive. The joy of watching The Nightmare Begins and Devil's Planet was seeing them turn in real time from things that were mysterious and to be revered to things that could simply be enjoyed, the intangible becoming tangible. The creatives of Doctor Who didn't set out to create myths, they set out to create stories (and stories are better than myths).


It'll sound silly or even hypocritical given that I'm watching and writing about TV that was made more than 60 years ago, but having moving images to accompany what was only available as audio before makes the action live in the now rather than in some distant past. Just as with previous returns during my time as a fan (see the Deeper Thoughts section below for more details) this creates a novelty around details that would seem irrelevant to the uninitiated (what's the exact moment in the narrative when Steven dons his corduroy jacket?) that have significance as they've previously only been available to one's speculation not one's eye. A wonderful part of the experience was watching in the knowledge that a time will come when I don't think about these and just watch the tale unfold. That's more than okay - it's right. I can now just about watch the second episode of this story, Day of Armageddon, some 20+ years after its return, without being startled by the interesting choice actor Kevin Stoney makes about how his character Mavic Chen grips a pen (how would anyone ever have speculated on such a thing before the episode was found?). The time will come when seeing that the costumes for the convicts of Desperus each has a 'D' on the back doesn't take me momentarily out of the narrative. That day's not today, but it will come. It's testament to the fluid story-telling of Douglas Camfield's direction that I was mostly engrossed in the action despite a succession of such moments. There's a great scene in the first episode (which was made available as an online clip a few weeks before the episodes landed), where the camera tracks across the Daleks to find the Doctor in the foreground, hidden from them; the camera frames William Hartnell in close-up (Hartnell knows how to work a close-up) and he exclaims "Daleks!". It's just one of many flourishes that Camfield creates.


The other big thing that having these two episodes back gives us beyond additional evidence of the director's expertise is more screentime for characters that had precious little previously. Temporary companions Katarina and Bret Vyon now appear in three times more material than before. All the nuances of both Adrienne Hill and Nicholas Courtney's performances are suddenly visible to us. This is also the case for more minor characters. The only part of Brian Cant's performance as Kurt Gantry available before now was a surviving clip of his death scene, where Gantry interacts only with Daleks. Seeing scenes of his interactions with another actor (Courtney) allows more character to shine through, and gives the moment of his extermination much more power when seen in-situ. There are some unexpected effects treats too: a shot of the Spar ship moving through space, and a long shot of the three criminals on Desperus approaching the Doctor and Co, seen as only three distant torch lights. Details like the Doctor's hair being messed up after his altercation in the jungle with Bret, or just how plasticky the wrench is that Steven uses in the TARDIS, are wonderful to see. Best of all, is that there's more of Hartnell as the Doctor to enjoy. He is magnificent in these two episodes; his every tiny adjustment to his performance depending on what size shot he's in is a masterclass in screen acting, even when he's getting the line completely wrong (the Daleks, according to the Doctor at one point, would "stop at anything" to prevent our heroes warning Earth). Now's not the time to find such fault, I know, but some joy comes from knowing that time will come. Instead of being abstract ideals impossible to criticise, these will in a while just be any old episodes of Doctor Who with all the flaws (how plasticky is that wrench?!) and all the magic that entails.

Connectivity:
Both the two found episodes of The Daleks Master Plan and The War between the Land and the Sea feature the return of top division Doctor Who baddies, and see characters escaping from some form of custody to go on the run. Both feature at least one person with a close-cropped do (Barclay in the 21st century story, the Technix in Master Plan).


Deeper Thoughts:
Many Happy Returns: a personal history of missing episode finds. Over the years, a handful of fans have been involved in the recovery of Doctor Who episodes missing from the BBC archives. For the vast majority of us, though, the experience of this activity has been from the outside-in. Many weren't even aware of the state of the BBC's archive holdings of Who until the publication of the Doctor Who Magazine Winter Special in Autumn 1981. This was the first time a mass publication had specified exactly what existed and what was lost. At the same time as the Special, there was a series of archive repeats, The Five Faces of Doctor Who, on UK channel BBC2. I was watching these, and rapidly becoming hooked on the show, but I wouldn't start buying the magazine or its special editions for another year. I also didn't know enough about the history of Doctor Who, unlike some fans watching those repeats, to wonder why they'd chosen the generally less than popular story The Krotons for Patrick Troughton's Doctor instead of one of his classics. If they managed to get a copy of the Special they had their answer: it was a series of four-part stories, one per Doctor, and there was then only one surviving four-part story for Troughton's Doctor. Based on many retellings in the years that followed, I know this was a great shock to many. One fan who wasn't shocked, one who was in the know from the inside-out, was DJ and music producer Ian Levine. In the late 1970s, he'd discovered the terrible state of the archives. This had come about because, as probably the first fan who had grown up with the show and also had significant disposable income, he wanted to watch old episodes and had the means to engage the BBC to obtain film copies. This led to his involvement in missing episode recovery, and the eventual return of a good few film cans plugging some of the gaps.


Levine wasn't the only person involved then or afterwards, of course. I mention him in particular because ultimately the drive for recovery of the old episodes was the desire to view them rather than for them to sit unwatched in a film library. In previous decades, a combination of factors had created the institutional belief that the episodes no longer held viewing potential for an audience. As they already weren't seen as worthy of a place in any film library, that did for them. This wasn't unique to the BBC or to Doctor Who, of course; it was a widespread belief, but it was changing. The Five Faces season and Levine's early private approaches to the BBC were both signals of that change. They were the early indicators that archive television programmes, even - or, damn it, particularly - frivolous ephemera like Doctor Who episodes, were of increasing value. Before this change nobody had particularly been interested in searching, but not too much time had passed since the initial junking of film copies. As such, the ground was fertile for the green shoots of recoveries. When I finally was reading Doctor Who Magazine, its news page regularly reported finds, and this continued through the first half of the 1980s. I remember at least one missive from the mag's letters page in that period, though, bemoaning the lack of access to these recovered episodes: what was the point of trumpeting the newly discovered existence of The Abominable Snowmen part 2 (returned in 1982) or the The Faceless Ones part 3 (returned in 1987), as just two examples, if they still remained unseen? Luckily, a suitable distribution medium was developing in parallel with these finds: by the mid-1980s, affordable sell-through VHS releases had become a reality and a Doctor Who range had begun.


I had not been too engaged with the subject during this period. I still had a supply of new Who programmes being broadcast annually on TV. Most of the show's history was new to me as well. I was doing my best to catch up by collecting Target novelisations and - as the decade wore on - the first videos, but there was more than enough of that history to exhaust my minimal funds. I remember reacting to the news of the 1988 recovery of four episodes of The Ice Warriors with little more than a shrug (forgive me - I was a teenager!). Four years later, the 80s having give way to the 90s, and things were very different. Doctor Who was no longer on the TV. The VHS range was increasingly covering black and white stories from the early years of Who in the 1960s. There had even been a couple of tapes released in 1991 that showcased some orphaned episodes within a wraparound documentary format. Then The Tomb of the Cybermen was found in its entirety. This was the most exciting recovery to date, as retold in the Deeper Thoughts section of the blog post I wrote about Tomb. The VHS range was established such that the story could be rush released, and it sold more in the UK in its first week than many Hollywood movies. More than just the potential of purchasers of archive Doctor Who, there was now a demonstrable market. Thereafter, a pattern was established that any further finds would become available quickly afterwards on VHS, then - as the 90s gave way to the 00s - DVD (and even later as downloads or on streaming platforms). Finds started to become fewer and further between, though.


In a 1998 documentary about missing episodes that was an extra on a VHS release of the recovered Ice Warriors episodes, Levine was quoted saying that he feared that all there was to be found had now been found, though he hoped someone would prove him wrong. That did indeed happen a few times over the following 15 years, but only four episodes were returned in that time, each one an orphan. If anyone thought the days of finding multiple episodes from the same story were over, they were pleasantly surprised when - wonderfully and miraculously - the biggest haul ever was gathered up at the end of that 15 year period. In late 2013, the whole of The Enemy of the World, and all but one episode of The Web of Fear were recovered from a Nigerian TV station. The thrill of that find had to keep us going through almost 13 years of nada, zip, bupkis. The lucky-for-some Friday 13th in March of 2026 saw the situation finally change, when the discovery of the two found episodes of The Daleks' Master Plan was announced. With the 9-episode 2013 returns the only ones this century to come from an overseas TV station, finds from such sources look to have been thoroughly exhausted. Further missing episodes seem more likely to be found in private collections, where there isn't likely to be many found at a time. If anyone cared enough to collect a number of Doctor Who episodes - the collector who ended up with The Nightmare Begins and Devil's Planet wasn't interested in Who and got them as part of a job lot - they would know what they had and would have returned them before now. There are now 95 missing episodes of Doctor Who in total: nobody can know for sure if or when that number will drop down further, but still we fans live in hope - all things considered, it's a nice place to live.

In Summary:
It's good to have these episodes back so that they can cease being revered mysteries and instead become blissfully ordinary and everyday.

Monday, 10 March 2025

The Romans

Chapter the 323rd, which features a bit of a carry on, but no Cleo. 


Plot:
Rome, 64AD. The Doctor, Ian, Barbara and Vicki have a holiday for a few weeks in somebody else's vacated villa near the city, before the Doctor gets bored and goes off to Rome with Vicki. On route, he finds a dead body by the side of the road, and is mistaken for the dead man, Corinthian lyre player Maximus Pettulian. Ian and Barbara are captured by slave traders. Ian becomes a galley slave on a ship; Barbara is sold at auction in Rome, to work in Nero's court. Ian's ship is destroyed in a storm, and with help from fellow slave Dedos makes his way to dry land; they both journey to Rome. The Doctor and Vicki meet Nero, but manage to miss bumping into Barbara. Nero takes a shine to Barbara, and spends a lot of time chasing after her - literally - much to the displeasure of his wife. Barbara survives her own assassination attempt, as she drinks from the wrong cup, avoiding a poisoned one. The Doctor discovers that Petullian's plan before he was killed was to assassinate Nero. After a rapturous reception for the Doctor's lyre playing, Nero plans to feed the Doctor to the lions in the arena. Nero visits the Gladiator school, taking Barbara with him. Ian and Dedos are forced to fight to the death for Nero's amusement, but instead turn their swords on the guards and escape, Ian telling Barbara that he'll come to find her. The Doctor inadvertently gives Nero the idea to burn Rome to the ground, and is spared death by lions. Nero invites the Roman hoi polloi to his palace and instructs them to set fires in the city; this allows Ian and Dedos to sneak in and rescue Barbara. The Doctor and Vicki also slip out. As Rome burns, all of them travel separately to the villa and meet back there.


Context:
The Romans will probably be the last ever purely historical story I cover, unless there's a surprise change of direction in the new series. The recent post for Day of the Daleks may have been the last Dalek story I ever write about. I've got at least one more story each left for the Sontarans, Master and Cybermen, but nothing more for Skaro's finest. It seems likely that any or all of those could appear versus Ncuti Gatwa's Doctor or a future Doctor (if there is one), though. A 21st century story set in Earth's past with no alien antagonists is much less likely. I enjoyed all the historicals watched for the blog over the years, but must admit that when The Romans came up, as the only Willian Hartnell story remaining to align with the write-up for a Hartnell-related BFI event (see Deeper Thoughts below), I wasn't 100% enthusiastic. It felt like only yesterday that I last watched the story, when the second season came out on Blu-ray. In fact, that was more than two years ago. Rightly or wrongly, I still felt a bit fatigued with it; to get over this, I watched the story one episode a week (on Sundays) during February and March 2025. It was enjoyable when watched in that way. The Better Half joined me at the start, and agreed with me that Ian and Barbara are definitely doing it by now (witnessing their relaxed, and possibly post-coital, scenes alone with each other in that first episode, and at end). This wasn't enough to keep her interested for the remaining three parts, though, and I watched them on my own.

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 yet another Doctor's televisual era; William Hartnell's first Doctor joins the third, fourth, seventh, eighth, ninth, eleventh, twelfth and fourteenth Doctors, making nine completed to date. This also marks the completion of another season, the 35th out of the total of 40 seasons to date (at the time of writing): classic seasons 1-5, 7-18, 20, 21, 23-26, and new series 1, 2, 4-11, 13 and 14).


First Time Round:
I didn't start keeping a diary until the first of January the following year, so I can't be 100% sure, but I believe that the purchase of The Romans on VHS (in a double pack with preceding story The Rescue) was the first Doctor Who product I ever bought with money from post-education employment. I'd finished university in the spring of 1994, dossed around for most of the Summer, then got a temp job. I was working at Griffin Factors (now part of HSBC) in Worthing, in an office a little out of town near the hospital. On the 5th September, or thereabouts, I would have walked into the main shopping area in Montague Street after work, and used my hard earned cash at Volume One. This independent book and video shop was my usual supplier of Doctor Who videos for most of the 1990s, and as such looms large in my memory of Doctor Who stories first watched on video. [I was pleased to find when googling about Volume One, curious to know when it ceased trading, that the author of a couple of excellent non-fiction books about Doctor Who that came out in the last few years, Paul Hayes, was bought his first ever Doctor Who book in the store - see here for the full interview.] My memory of the time is more than hazy, but I would likely have then travelled home on the bus and watched both stories straight away in one sitting.


Reaction:
This blog has been a nearly ten year long experiment into the random. I believed it was much more common, for fans or more casual viewers alike, to encounter Doctor Who stories in no particular order: people watch on TV every so often but not regularly, say, or pick up one or two or all of the books, videos, DVDs or Blu-rays (which have always come out in a haphazard non-chronological order). As such, my hypothesis was that watching the entirety of Who in a shuffled way would garner more insight than starting with An Unearthly Child and progressing in a linear fashion. In the main, I think the hypothesis has held, but on occasion one misses out by not seeing a story in the context of those around it. The Romans is such a case. This was the 12th Doctor Who story, and - though there had been the odd bit of humorous business in the first 11 - was the show's first foray into outright comedy. How jarring would it have been to those watching as it first went out? It's hard to say watching it in isolation, but it would probably be hard to say anyway. Humour is notoriously subjective, but tastes in humour also evolve. The story is 60 years old, and different boundaries existed for what was funny back then, particularly the delicately balanced humour seen here which - though much more prevalent than in other Doctor Who stories - still has to hang on the skeleton of an action adventure narrative. It's so hard to know whether writer Dennis Spooner and director Christopher Barry were just intending it to raise a smile, or to be laugh out loud funny. If it was the latter, I think they failed (at least for this viewer many years later). Perhaps the weight of expectation of this being the first 'funny one' only exists because of the history and the looking back; at the time, perhaps there were no expectation, and that helped to make it more easily enjoyable.


Watching in 2025, when The Romans can't help but seem at a distant historical remove, this translates into some disconcertingly jarring tonal swerves. There's a slapstick fight where Barbara accidentally brains Ian smashing a vase on his head when she was trying to immobilise an enemy. Ho ho. That act, though, condemns them to capture to be sold as chattels, which mere minutes later the characters and the script treat sombrely. Ho ho... slavery? Nero chasing Barbara around is treated like a Benny Hill sequence without the Yakety Sax; but, if he catches her it is clear that he is going to force himself on her, with her consent not a consideration. Ho ho... sexual assault? Okay, it may be unfair to blame The Romans for every bedroom farce that looks tasteless in a different light. The trouble is that in the Doctor Who story the light keeps changing, back and forth. A stage farce would be able to fully commit, anyway, whereas Doctor Who can't. There can't be overt references to sex in the programme, and the regulars have to play to their existing characters (or else the whole dramatic edifice collapses, for this and any subsequent stories). One might just think that they shouldn't have tried it, but Doctor Who and the Hartnell period in particular thrives on experimentation. Besides, a lot of the material in The Romans lands, usually when the script is not trying so hard. For the most part it's sprightly and / or charming. The scenes mentioned above (in the Context section) with Ian and Barbara hanging out and goofing around in the villa are lovely. Some of the Doctor's material is fun. The guest characters are nicely played. Excepting Nero, who's written by Spooner and performed by Derek Francis quite broadly, everyone else has some detail and dimensions to their characterisation provided in the script.


All the near misses where the different members of the TARDIS team just manage to avoid bumping into each other are fun (and reminiscent of the beginning of new series story Partners in Crime). There's a few nice dramatic plot beats, including the moment where Dedos and Ian realise they have to fight each other to the death, the reveal at the end that Tavius's actions have been directed by his Christianity (he's an early adopter), and the shocking moment where it looks like Nero has stabbed Barbara to death, but instead has killed the guard behind her. The Doctor managing to get through a public performance despite not being able to play the lyre by using an Emperor's New Clothes gambit (Nero and all his hangers-on pretend they can hear his 'delicate music' - actually miming - because they don't want to appear unsophisticated) is nice. Ian has a great line of dialogue about the Doctor "I've got a friend who specialises in trouble - he dives in and usually finds a way". Everyone's trying to kill everybody else in the story - it's pretty bloodthirsty for a light comedy - but there's a lot of energy in the scenes where the Doctor's trying to work out in what type of conspiracy the person whose place he's taken was involved. The most interesting part for fans is probably the Doctor inadvertently starting a fire, his glasses magnifying the sun's rays onto some parchment, and giving Nero the idea to burn down the city; it's the first time that our heroes are shown to be able to create recorded history by their own actions. All the following sequences regarding the great fire of Rome are played for laughs, of course: ho ho... destruction and death?!

Connectivity:
The Savages (subject of Deeper Thoughts section below, but not the main focus of this blog post) has a great connection to the last story blogged, Death Comes to Time, as both include vampiric characters attempting to extract something from the Doctor and it backfiring on them. The Romans has diddly squat in common with the webcast story, bar the irritating folksy music played in the latter being a little like the lyre music of Maximus Petullian.


Deeper Thoughts:
From the ancient to the elders: BFI screening of The Savages animation + Q&A, 28th February. This was the first Doctor Who BFI event to take place on a Friday evening, a fact that hosts Justin Johnson and Dick Fiddy mined for a few jokes. When Johnson made some mistakes on stage (including having the wrong answer to one of the quiz questions, and getting schooled by the expert fan audience), Fiddy said "We won't do this on a Friday again ... it's his drinking day". In honour of the change of slot, the quiz saw the audience shouting "Richard" rather than "Dick" if they wanted to attract Fiddy's roaming mic. "It's the PG Version" said Fiddy; "We've gone woke!" said Johnson. Both were on good form: later on in the quiz, Johnson asked a comic, fake question playing on the tabloid stories about Doctor Who's possible cancellation: "The Savages is from season three of the original series, will there be a season three of the new show?". Fiddy highlighted the contemporary relevance of The Savages, it being a story about "A rich and powerful elite sucking the lifeblood out of the poor". After musing on whether episode hunter Philip Morris might have the film reels of The Savages "up his sleeve", Johnson said he should probably stop making this "12-year old joke" (Morris returned nine episodes to the archives in 2013, but rumours got out of control that there were more found that had not been returned). As usual, Johnson read out some tweets; it was someone's birthday, it was someone's first ever Doctor Who event at the BFI, someone got a plug in for their podcast. One fan tweeted that they were happy with the event being on a Friday as they find "Doctor Who fans more tolerable when I've had a drink". There was also the obligatory cheeky tweet from a gay fan pretending to be trolling at the event, saying that they - like the city dwellers in the story - would like to "drain some fit men of their vitality too".

Johnson (L) and Fiddy (R)

The first person to be invited up on stage was Mark Ayres, who did sound restoration on the audio that is the basis for the animation. The sources he used for this were the late Graham Strong's recordings of parts one to three, and the 'Randolph' tapes for part four. Strong was described by Ayres as "The first person to take the back off his telly and risk death" by soldering in a direct link from the audio output into his recording device. The latter source is a set of tapes found in a skip; it's unknown who made the recordings, but their labels have the name Randolph on them. These tapes have only just started to be used on Doctor Who releases recently after their discovery a few years back. That new source, plus improvements in technology, skill and experience since, mean that Ayres feels better equipped to tackle some of the challenges yet to come. He mentioned that he'd previously dreaded cleaning up The Myth Makers, as well as one Patrick Troughton story that he left unnamed; now, though, he believes that whichever stories are selected they'll be brought up to an acceptable standard. He echoed Fiddy's comments about the contemporary relevance of the storyline, and also championed the incidental score by Raymond Jones (a link to The Romans, the only story other than The Savages for which Jones wrote music). After that, the first two episodes of The Savages were shown. The animation is in the 2D style and made by the same team that previously did The Underwater Menace and The Evil of the Daleks, and other stories before that. It is an efficient but enjoyable way to visualise the story, with good use of colour to mark out the different worlds inhabited by the city dwellers versus the savages. The likenesses of the Doctor and Steven weren't perfect, but Dodo was spot on.

(L to R) Johnson, Fiddy, Ayres

As ever when watching with a large group, the humour is more apparent. The Doctor's reference to the machine he uses in the first episode, the Reacting Vibrator, inevitably got a huge laugh from the audience. Beyond that, it was hard to tell as a couple of fellows sitting directly behind us found everything - and I mean everything - side-splittingly hilarious and guffawed all the way through. I suspect some alcoholic lubrication had occurred. Anyway, my original thoughts on the story, written during the first month of the Covid-19 pandemic, are here; one thing that I noticed this time that I didn't in 2020 was the possibly loose way that characters refer to the unnamed planet's inhabitants, savages and city dwellers alike, as human beings. Were they supposed to be colonists, or was this just a shorthand for 'higher sentient beings'? The animation can't do anything about that, but it can erase the possibly dubious use in the original of make-up to darken some characters complexions. According to the panel afterwards, Jano is probably wearing gold face paint, but this doesn't come out very well in the black and white photos from the production. This panel, in a break at the midpoint of the story, focussed on the new pictures and featured animation director and producer AnneMarie Walsh, colourist Vinny Payne, animator Thomas Bland, and executive Paul Hembury. Walsh and Hembury both celebrated the work of the team to achieve what we'd seen on the big screen that day, highlighting the small number of people involved (from six to eight members at different points of an approximately nine month project). Walsh described some of the design choices made: an imaginative jumping off point for the look of the city was a proboscis, to subtly show the blood-sucking nature of those that live there.

(L to R) Johnson, Fiddy, Walsh, Payne, Bland, Hembury

Payne presented an interesting clip showing his work in colour grading the episodes, though the loud music on it overpowered most of his commentary (at least from my seat). Bland said that his greatest challenge this time was animating William Hartnell's facial expressions. This is the first Hartnell story that this particular team has worked on. Walsh commended its cerebral script, but added that "Pat Troughton's still my favourite Doctor". Hembury humorously pointed out how much of a Doctor Who expert Walsh had become after starting work on the animations many years ago as a newcomer to the Doctor's world; "I've gone over to the dark side," she quipped back. Hembury went a little into the executive decisions and deals forming the background to the creative work, as he'd done in the panel for the BFI screening of the team's last animation for The Underwater Menace (see the Deeper Thoughts section of this blog post). Again, he jokingly gave a politician's "I'm glad you asked me that question" reply on one occasion, but again he was forthcoming on some details. He no longer works for the BBC but is continuing in his exec producer role, and is currently in the process of doing a deal to accelerate the rate that this team can produce animations by getting commitments up front for more than one story at a time. When asked if he could imagine a world where all 1960s seasons of Doctor Who had Blu-ray box sets with their archive gaps plugged by animations, he replied "I can definitely imagine that world, I imagine it on a daily basis". He confirmed that is indeed the intention, but again made clear that no deal is finalised as yet.


There was time for a few audience questions; one was about the possibility of crowd-funding (this isn't something that would be explored while BBC Studios still provide budget), and if there were concerns about replicating the original production's make-up (they decided to avoid it altogether). There was also an interesting question about whether there's a risk that anything they animate might impact the age certification of a disc release. Walsh explained that the biggest thing that had come up was not about sex or violence but smoking. In The Evil of the Daleks' animation, the character of Maxtible could hold a cigar, as long as he wasn't seen to light or puff on it. Beyond that, it was more likely to be the special features on a disc that impacted its certification. With audience questions over, the panel members left the stage and the final two episodes were shown. My overall impression is a very positive one, though I should declare that I went in with quite low expectations. Moving visuals make everything in the story so much better: Frederick Jaeger's impression of William Hartnell is more fun, and there are moments of honest to goodness emotion (including Steven's farewell scene, though it's still abrupt). The destruction of the laboratory at the climax probably posed the most challenges to animate, but it works well. After the story was the final onstage interview, this time with Peter Purves who played Steven in the story. Johnson greeted him onstage with "It's nice to see you in 3D", and once sat down Purves said to the audience "You just witnessed the end of my acting career". Very early on in the interview Purves mentioned something that would become a theme for the chat, that his recall of this story and a lot of Doctor Who in general is minimal: "I remember... forgetting all about The Savages".

(L to R) Johnson, Fiddy, Purves

The interview started by focussing on Purves's leaving the show in the story, part of more widespread cast changes by new producer Innes Lloyd that would eventually see the leading man replaced also. Purves described it as "an uneasy time". William Hartnell, who as usual got a warm and positive but not uncritical personality appraisal from Purves, tried to get the producer to change his mind about ending Purves's time on Doctor Who. Back then, though, stars had less power than they would now, and it came to nothing. Once he'd left, Purves didn't think much about Doctor Who ("I've never been a nostalgic person... never looked back... never kept diaries") until joining the convention circuit. His first attendance of an event was in 1996, thirty years after leaving Who. After that, doing work on the narrated audio releases brought back a lot of memories, though he conceded some of those memories might well be wrong: "I enjoy talking about [Doctor Who], and some of it will be true". There was a question about his regular anecdote about making a story revisiting the planet of The Savages only to find that Steven had become an awful despot of a leader. He explained that it was never a pitched idea, but that Simon Guerrier had done a trilogy of plays that covered Steven's later adventures for audio company Big Finish. He delivered another frequently told anecdote about William Emms, writer of the third story Steven appeared in, Galaxy 4; Emms had built the story around Ian and Barbara's presence before they were written out, and did a hasty rewrite job meaning Purves's futuristic space pilot got the dialogue and action of a 1960s schoolmistress, much to the actor's chagrin. When asked if he met any of the show's writers during production, he replied "Unfortunately yeah, I met William Emms".


Purves confirmed in answer to an audience question that he never saw The Savages when it first went out, and - just like most in the audience - was seeing it for the first time with pictures that day. He thought the animation captured Jackie Lane as Dodo particularly well in both look and movement; "I was going to say the voice was good," he added, "But it was her!". Towards the end, he comically admonished the animation team for the spoiler they had shown everyone: the video they'd played after the episode two cliffhanger, where the Doctor is in danger, included a clip from the third episode where he's alive: "Naughty!". And that was that: it was time to go to the bar and have a drink and a nice chat with friends Chris, Dave and Tim, and say hello to a few others. It's uncertain when the next BFI event will take place; it will only be when there is a tie-in product (box set or animation) coming out with which the session can align; another box set is expected this year, and potentially another animation too, but they will likely not be until late in 2025 after the new series has been broadcast. As such, I don't know whether I'll still have any stories left to blog to which I can attach any future write-ups; with the new queuing system on the BFI's website (see Context section of this blog post) I don't know if I'll even get tickets in future. If this is the last event of this type that I cover on the blog, it was definitely an interesting one to go out on.

In Summary:
Ho ho! Carry On Slavery, Sexual Assault, Destruction and Death. Erm...

Wednesday, 13 March 2024

The Sensorites

Chapter the 294th, covers a pair of Hartnells, one from early on, and one that's brand new
.


Plot:
The Doctor, Ian, Barbara and Susan materialise on a 28th century spaceship in orbit around the planet Sense-Sphere. Two members of crew appear dead, but they are instead mind-controlled by the Sensorites on the planet below, who are keeping them in orbit. The TARDIS team manage to wake them up. There is also a third crew member John who has been driven mad by the creatures. The lock mechanism from the TARDIS is taken by the Sensorites, preventing it from leaving; the Doctor soon works out the weaknesses of these seemingly fearsome creatures. The Sensorites explain that they are fearful of exploitation of their planet, which is rich in the vital element molibdi- molybdu- molydem- ... iron, let's just say iron. Years before, a group of Earthmen arrived and caused trouble, but they're now missing presumed dead. Since, Sensorites have been dying from a suspected infection. If the Doctor can cure this, the Sensorites will allow him access to his TARDIS again, and will fix John. The Doctor, Susan and Ian go down to the planet with John and another member of the crew, his fiancé Carol. Barbara and the captain of the ship stay behind, though Barbara joins them on the planet later. Despite the City Administrator Sensorite working against them, and despite Ian falling ill, the Doctor works out that the water supply is being poisoned and provides the antidote. Ian and John are both healed. In some tunnels, the Earthmen are discovered to be still alive and poisoning the water supply with Deadly Nightshade. They are apprehended, and the TARDIS travellers are free to resume their journeys in time and space.


Context:
The plan was to watch an episode a day across six days in late February and early March 2024. Such is the reputation of The Sensorites as being a bore-fest that if I told you I enjoyed it so much I tore through it much quicker than that, you wouldn't believe me, but that is five-sixths true. The first episode proved a hell of a chore, such that I couldn't keep watching it on first attempt and instead split my viewing over two days, 10 minutes on the first, the remaining 15 on the next. After that, though, the story picks up, and though I didn't exactly binge them, I got through through the rest of the episodes much quicker than originally planned.

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 22nd season completed out of the total of 39 to date (at the time of writing). In full, I have now completed classic seasons 1, 3, 4, 7, 8, 10, 12, 14-18, 20, 21, 23 and 25, and new series 2, 6, 9-11, and 13).


First Time Round:
I met fellow Doctor Who fan, David, mentioned many times before on this blog, at university in the early 1990s and we've remained friends ever since. In the immediate years after my graduation, when none of my peer group had serious jobs or partners or families, there was a lot of time for visiting each other. Usually for no particularly special occasion apart from having a day or two of leave, we would traverse the country and meet up. In November 1997 (I can date this as I remember us both sitting eating breakfast in his kitchen with BBC Radio 1 on and hearing the first radio play of Help the Aged by Pulp) I was on such a visit to him. David had through various contacts and sources collected a video copy of pretty much every Doctor Who story that existed in the BBC's archives at that time. I only had collected what had been commercially available, though I'd borrowed some of his tapes from time to time. Being together and both fans, it must have seemed a good and obvious idea to sit down and watch some Who, probably with a beer and some snacks. Why we chose The Sensorites, I do not remember. Maybe it was the best of what I hadn't seen by other means by then. But all the available evidence - see the First Time Round section of this blog post for more details - suggests I hadn't seen Horror of Fang Rock by November 1997. Why didn't we watch Horror of Fang Rock? We got to watch that story together on a big screen recently at least - see the Deeper Thoughts section of this blog post for more details. It can be hard to remember details from that long ago, Was this the trip where David persuaded me to purchase his entire Target Doctor Who book collection from him, as he needed the space, and I had a challenging time getting it back home? Maybe that was a few years later. Jarvis Cocker isn't always around to help me date stuff, unfortunately.


Reaction:
Stories from Doctor Who's first 1963/64 season can't help but innovate in some way or other. The series was shiny and new, and trying out different types of stories each time, seeing what best fit. The Sensorites, though, innovates in a rather profound way in that the titular alien race are complex; individuals within the ranks of Sensorites have different motivations and form different factions, there's disagreement and dissent. They are not a monoculture, and they are the first aliens presented that way in Doctor Who. You don't get that with Daleks or Voord, and you won't get it with Zarbi or Cybermen. Most of the time in Who, alien races are there to be monstrous forces of antagonism, usually unreasoning, blank and implacable. There is a story type that would be used later, though, that is very like The Sensorites, such that the Hartnell story feels like a try-out. That is the suite of 1970s stories often of six episodes length written by Malcolm Hulke. In these stories, the 'monster' races had understandable viewpoints and different factions (The Sea Devils, The Silurians), or the antagonism comes from the machinations of humans instead (Invasion of the Dinosaurs), or all of the above (Frontier in Space). Put it in colour, swap in the appropriate TARDIS pilot, and The Sensorites would not look out of place during the Jon Pertwee era. Exploring this race of creatures provides lots of story potential for the portion of the narrative that takes place on the Sense-Sphere. It also provides a great villain in the City Administrator, who obstinately refuses to believe any good of the aliens visiting his planet. He may be a villain of the more hissable panto kind (so were Hulke's), but his presence lifts the scenes he's in.


That first episode really was a chore, though (see Context section above) and a fair part of the second episode isn't much better. Again, in line with many a 1970s story, it has the typical 6-parter blues, not quite having enough plot for the duration. Like many a 1970s 6-parter, generally after Hulke's time, it has a narrative structured as a two and a four, the first section on the ship, and the second section on the planet. The realisation of the ship in the studio is pretty good, with a nice continuous shot early on of the TARDIS travellers walking out of the console room and into the spaceship; but, the minimal cast can't sustain interest, and the sets don't feel big enough to contain the action. This can be seen when, in order to get into trouble, Susan and Barbara have to miss the very obvious sign saying 'WATER' and instead wander through a door looking for refreshment. They know there is danger elsewhere on the ship, but there's only one flippin' door, so you'd think they'd realise it's the one that leads to the danger. The only thing left for the cast to do to create dramatic tension is some very stagey and very 60s psychodrama about the impact of the Sensorites' mental powers. This has the unintended effect of talking up the Sensorites too much. Aside from the memorably creepy moment at the part one cliffhanger where we see the first glimpse of one floating outside of the ship, they are very disappointing and don't match up to the terrified reactions of the crew earlier.


Everything is fully explained in the script, if you pay attention: they are protective of their planet but didn't mean any active harm to the humans, so just left them in orbit in a sort of mental stasis, not knowing what better to do with them; the crewman John's excitement at discovering riches on the planet dropped his mental defences, and the Sensorites inadvertently altered his mind. All that material comes later, though: in the second episode, this terrifying unseen presence that has turned people into zombies or driven them mad is finally revealed... and it's a set of slightly cuddly creatures who are frightened of the dark and loud noises, and are at risk of tripping over their own feet. It can't help but seem risible. When it settles down to the more grounded conflict of the City Administrator's distrust, it's much more believable. As such, the story doesn't really need the creatures to be telepathic at all, particularly as it creates some plot holes. A lot of the double-dealing relies on the Sensorites not being able to easily distinguish between each other based on sight, but they don't need to - they're a telepathic race, wouldn't they just distinguish each other telepathically? The City Administrator's nefarious shenanigans involve disguising himself with another's sash of office, but couldn't other Sensorites work out his real identity by, I don't know, looking into his brain. The telepathy at least allows Carole Ann Ford to do something a bit different as Susan; her moments of discovering a telepathic link with the Sensorites causing conflict with her grandfather, and the love story subplot between Ilona Rodgers as Carol and Stephen Dartnell as John are nicely emotional scenes, done quite well.


There are other flaws in the story, but none of them felt big enough to trouble me much: the solution to the mystery of the Sensorites' affliction, that their general water supply is being poisoned, is so telegraphed as to be screamingly obvious; the writing out of Barbara, so that Jackie Hill can have two weeks' holiday, is terribly contrived (she spends the time alone on the ship with its captain for no apparent reason, though one could provide one's own subtext, then turns up on the planet with a nice new suntan); some of the dialogue is very on the nose; the schoolroom science of Molybdenum feels a little shoe-horned in. The worst mistake to my mind is that there's no comeuppance scene for the City Administrator, he's unmasked as the villain off-screen. This is because the focus switches in the final episode to the three surviving humans, ragged and mad and still fighting a war that's long over. The scenes with them were fine, with John Bailey's Commander keeping up an insane parody of military discipline, though I would have been fine with them just having been driven over the edge by their desperate situation, rather than there being an explanation included that the Sensorites' mind powers are responsible. I'd still rather have seen an ending where the City Administrator's plans come to a climax, but are roundly defeated. I'm reminded of Captain Dent, the love-to-hate-him baddie of Colony in Space, who similarly disappears from the story in the last episode and doesn't get a comeuppance scene. And who wrote that story? Why, Malcolm Hulke, of course! 

Connectivity:
Both The Sensorites and The Girl Who Died feature a grey haired Doctor played by an actor in his late 50s interacting with a race of aliens who are mostly indistinguishable from one another at a distance without their sashes of office / hologram projections of Norse gods. 

Deeper Thoughts:
From the Sense-Sphere to a realm beyond sense: BFI The Celestial Toymaker animation screening 2nd March 2024. It was a very rainy Saturday in early March as I made my way to the BFI Southbank for another screening. I'd bagged a ticket, and suspected that this one might have a bit less interest than the Horror of Fang Rock screening in February. The animations sometimes have less appeal to our little - but probably representative - band of regular fans than the Blu-ray tie-in screenings, the latter usually having better panel guests, and it's not the strongest story (a couple of our number expressed this opinion). Myself, I was wary of the possible audience reaction. The trailer showed that this was far from the usual style for these animated stories, and it was possible it would divide opinion. The panellists that there are at these events are usually those who've worked on the animated versions; I didn't like the idea of an awkward panel with rude audience questions from people who didn't care for what they'd seen on screen. My concerns were unfounded for a couple of reasons. First, the screening had sold out and the auditorium was full; second, there were no panels with audience questions at all. Our hosts, as usual Justin Johnson and Dick Fiddy, informed us that the animation team are based in Australia, but even if they'd had the budget to fly them over, they wouldn't have been able to come: they were working on what we were about to watch right up to the wire, with the final files having been sent over the previous evening ("They're still drawing the third and fourth episodes," joked Fiddy). As such, outside of the team working on it, nobody had viewed the animated story in advance; those of us in NFT1 that day would be the first.


Aside from the animators, the issue with forming a panel for the story is that almost everybody credited on the original production, both in front of and behind the camera, is no longer with us. They had apparently tried to engage Peter Purves, who played Steven, and one of the non-speaking dancers who appear in one episode, but diaries did not align. They are really the only remaining options. "You've got Dick here," quipped Johnson, "What more could you want?!" In the absence of a full panel, our hosts endeavoured to keep up all the other rituals of these BFI events, including double entendres. Johnson did a round-up of online and social media activity connected to the event, noting that - even though nobody had seen it yet - the DVD release of the Toymaker animation already had many reviews, apparently all either ones or fives out of five. There was also the usual quiz with giveaway goodies for those that could answer trivia questions; one of the prizes, in Fiddy's words, was "One of the rare medium-sized Doctor Who T-shirts." After this, sound supremo Mark Ayres was up on stage, for the first of two times on the day, to introduce the animation. He confirmed that he had still been working on the sound mix the previous day, but said that Fiddy's earlier remark about the latter episodes still being finished was not accurate: the episodes were delivered in reverse order, so it was the first episode that was the last to be worked on. Alas, it wasn't quite done in time. There was a sequence where the watermark 'NOT FINAL' showed over the action, and there were a few parts that had errors that Ayres had spotted in his last-minute review. If there were more that he hadn't spotted, he said, then "Twitter will inform us in due course." He summarised it thus: "You're all going to see something nobody else is ever going to see ... I hope."

Johnson (L), Fiddy (R)

The screenings of the first two episodes then followed, and the first part was fine, not nearly as bad as Ayres had set up. The only previous animation by Shapeshifter Studios, using their motion-capture process, was for one missing episode of The Web of Fear (see the Deeper Thoughts section of this blog post for more details). It was an experiment, and it was not well received. It remains to be seen how people will react this time, but I liked it. Lots more work has clearly been put in, and the overall quality (and in particular, the movement of the characters) has vastly improved. The character designs are of a different type of abstraction than usual for the animation range, which takes a little getting used to; but, once I was acclimatised, I very much enjoyed the style. This is the perfect story to further the experimentation. Only the three regulars and the Toymaker need appear in any way naturalistically (and the Doctor is invisible for half the time, depicted in the animation as a glowing translucent outline); the animators are freer in designing the other characters - human beings turned into toys - and it gets very inventive. The playing card characters have a lovely origami look, and move in a distinctive way (achieved, as Ayres explained later, by them appearing at a different frame rate to everything else). There's a hint of 60s psychedelia in the imagery, with some characters looking like they've walked straight out of the Beatles' Yellow Submarine movie. After the end credits rolled on the second episode, Fiddy made the droll aside: "They still have LSD in Australia then". The scare factor is also increased; the sequence of Dodo turning to ice after sitting in a booby-trapped chair is genuinely unsettling in a way that the original would likely have struggled to achieve.

Johnson (L), Ayres (R)

Ayres came back up on stage for a quick interview in between the first and second half of the story. He talked about how the script, what he thinks of as the only outright fantasy in early Doctor Who (even The Mind Robber having something of a scientific explanation), is extremely inventive. Anyone who can remember my write-up of the story many years ago for the blog will know that I disagree. The scripting is simple and repetitive such that it could only work with ambitious visuals far beyond the resources of the time. On the strength of the first half, the animators were making a good stab of finally achieving such visuals, with Ayres hinting that the third episode went even further and was his particular favourite. He had not been slouching on the audio front either. 1960s productions often let the audio fall back to just actors in the studio, which has a hollow sound, and often the music - pre-recorded and played in to the studio - could drown out the dialogue; he's tweaked things to fix both issues. He's also done an elegant editing job to remove an 'of the time' offensive version of 'Eeeny Meeny Minie Moe'. For the first time, the source for the audio was the so-called Randolph tapes. These were provided to the archives in 2018 after having been found years before in a skip. They have the word  'Randolph' written on the reel-to-reel boxes, hence the name, but who recorded them and how they came to be there is still a mystery. They provide better quality recordings for some stories than exist elsewhere, and may be counted upon for future releases. Episodes three and four followed the interview with Ayres, and a sequence in the third was indeed breath-taking, and very in keeping with the more hyperactive sequences in the villain's recent rematch The Giggle. The nasty schoolboy character Cyril's death got a round of applause from the assembled.


The best kudos I can give to this animated Celestial Toymaker is to say that it makes one want to see The Web Planet animated, or the Sensorites for that matter, or indeed any other story where the ambition for the imagery exceeded what could be achieved in Lime Grove or Riverside by several light years. Obviously, I'm not suggesting they don't animate all the missing ones first - I want to be alive to see them all. The final treat for us that day was another exclusive, and another investment that's going to pay off over a long stretch of time. The first 10 minutes approximately were shown of a bonus feature from the planned Toymaker release; this is the first of a series where seven different teams of three people - themed for each of the first seven Doctors' eras - all grapple with a specially designed Doctor Who escape room. Each team gets their own episode, with the attempt of the First Doctor trio (Peter Purves, Maureen o' Brien and - erm - Lisa Bowerman) going on the Toymaker disc. The remaining six will go on appropriate animation or Collection box-sets in future. As the presenter of the series Emily Cook said in a brief onstage interview, it could take 20 years to get to the end, but it will be worth it. The concept is one that you can't believe nobody's thought of before, and it looks like a lot of fun based on the excerpt shown. Emily talked about the difficulty of balancing the right tone in her role between being supportive and being gently mocking. The escape room was put together as a set, and all the different sessions were filmed over a scorching two days in the Summer of 2023. The puzzles are styled after various elements of set dressing from classic Doctor Who (references to the Trilogic game from the Toymaker story, the colourful puzzle from the Pyramid of Mars and the gameboard from The Five Doctors were clear from the clip).

Johnson (L), Cook (R)

The Doctor Who-themed escape rooms in the UK (see Deeper Thoughts of this blog post for details of one of them) don't require any knowledge of the show to complete the puzzles, as that would likely be too niche for wide customer engagement. As such, the escape room of the bonus feature series would be much better appreciated by the fans than the stars of the show; alas, the sets have been struck and it is no more, so we will just get to experience it through watching others trying it. This seems like a fundamental flaw, but is somewhat the point, I suppose: it wouldn't be as much fun watching people smoothly and successfully work out a set of puzzles. Cook hinted at some humorous meltdowns: Peter Davison gets somewhat frustrated, and the antics of the fourth Doctor crew of Matthew Waterhouse, Micheal E. Briant and - erm - Toby Hadoke were hilarious according to Cook. After this final interview, the event was done. The three of us (myself, Trevor and Alan) went to the BFI cocktail bar, and met up with Tim and Dave, who I hadn't seen for a couple of years. Then, Chris came out to join us for a drink and some food, though he hadn't had a ticket for the screening. It was almost a full house of our usual group (only David and Scott were not there); the talk was good, the food and drink were good, and I said hello to a few other fans. Having been worried that the event would be negative, I left that evening to travel home in the glow of the most enjoyable and positive BFI session for an animation to date. I'm looking forward to the physical release (date TBC at time of writing) to see the final version of the animation, and to see if Purves and Co. ever manage to escape from that room.

In Summary:
Never mind its reputation, The Sensorites is sometimes as powerful as gamma radiation (inspiration for the incredible Hulke).