Planet of Giants [Doctor Who, Story 9]

Planet of Giants by Louis Marks

31 October - 14 November 1964

With my Season One ruminations safely tucked away for now, I turn my attention to the next milestone. Our first stop along the way is this really odd little story. I’ve actually watched and reviewed this once before, as part of the randomized Who marathon I attempted last summer. My general thoughts on the serial haven’t really changed much, but it has gone up in my relative estimation since I now have something of a better feel for the Hartnell era in general. I’ll also happily flatter myself by saying that my writing capabilities have expanded somewhat since then, so another pass at reviewing it can hardly go amiss. Now, there’s quite a bit to say about Planet of Giants, including its status as something of a leftover from Season One. I’m given to understand that this was part of the same production block, and that it was one of the first episode concepts broached during the conceptualization of the first season. Fortunately, what comes off is a fairly serviceable story with some great moments.

If I really had to compare it, I’d call this the Edge of Destruction of Season Two. It’s peculiar in the fact that, like that serial, it’s somewhat truncated in length, features as its chief motivator of tension a technical fault with the TARDIS (give or take a definite article, per Susan), and features no science fiction concepts apart from the ship itself. What proceeds is sort of an odd duck of a story, and one which I feel doesn’t have that many close counterparts aside from The Edge of Destruction. Well, whatever its status, I found it fun to watch again. The sets of the magnified world range from alright to amazing, and the bugs from a bit silly (the worm) to downright creepy (the fly!), and in general the design and framing of the setting is some of the best work the program has managed thus far. Ray Cusick really was something else. The “otherness” and menace that a familiar, domestic setting can exude when viewed from the perspective shown here is quite genius and, like I noted early on last season, weds the familiar and the alien together to great effect as Doctor Who often seems to do.

The regulars appear to be having fun. Barbara gets the best and worst of it, with the obvious distress and pain she’s in close to the end really quite upsetting to watch, though not in an unwatchable sort of way. I did find myself pleading mentally with her to speak up and tell the others about her situation, but her desire not to distract from solving the DN6 issue speaks well of her character. The guest stars don’t make a very strong impression (aside from the adorable cat), but Smithers at least is played well. Forester sadly lacks the competent villainy to match his avarice and comes across as a bit of an idiot. The DN6 plot itself is interesting as the program’s first flirtation with environmentalism, an issue which was still quite young at the time but which Who will touch again, especially in the Pertwee era.

All in all, a nice little story, though one which could have been served better by a more interesting guest cast. I’d certainly recommend it.

No dialogue segment this time. The Dalek Invasion of Earth is next, and I’d much rather get cracking on that than spending my time trawling through transcripts!

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 25 January 2018.)

Doctor Who, Season One

So, after a mammoth run of forty-two episodes, double the length of a modern series, I’ve successfully watched through all of Season One of Doctor Who. It’s honestly hard to say if I’m even watching Doctor Who yet; for every familiar element that begins to crop up, a curious dead end or idiosyncrasy of 1960s television meets it to remind me that I’m far outside of my element. Whatever the case, I’m enjoying myself, and, one hopes, getting the knack of how to watch and digest the sort of program that Who was at the start of its original run. Since I’ve met this milestone, I thought I would reflect on the progress the program is making and sum up the scores I’ve been entering on my top-secret spreadsheet all this time. Expect similar posts to this one at the close of each run of stories.

To begin with, An Unearthly Child gives things an electric starting point. The premiere episode of the serial really knocks it out of the park in a big way, which probably did wonders for tiding the program over until the Dalek craze really kicked into gear. Our four regulars introduce themselves with very good performances (and in the case of one regular, probably her best) and sell for the viewer the bizarre world which they set foot into. Even past this episode, the remaining three of the serial hold up well, in my estimation (which I’m well aware is higher than that of many who watch them). If anything, I appreciate them on the merits of what they’re trying to do, in expanding upon the conflict of the first episode and offering the TARDIS crew a trial by fire, of sorts.

The Daleks almost carries itself by reputation alone, as its historical significance is second only to the serial preceding it. On its own, it’s a solid serial, but one weighed down by a frustratingly slow back half. Still, there’s much to love about it beyond just rescuing the program. The Dalek city on Skaro is wonderfully creepy, the musical score is good, and the Daleks themselves look so fantastic that their basic look has stayed fresh for fifty-four years and going. It stands on its own two feet. Or its Dalek bumps, at the very least.

The Edge of Destruction is profoundly bizarre, but still pleasing to watch. The short runtime and constrained setting make for some uneven writing at times, but it has its share of brilliant moments. More importantly, it marks something of a turning point for the Doctor as a character and for the show generally, as it is the point where the people who accompany him stop being hostages and start to be companions. (Well, more or less, I know full well that Tegan’s coming, somewhere down the line…)

Marco Polo carries with it a fantastic degree of confidence for what it’s trying to do, and I couldn’t help but to admire it for that. Its sumptuous scenery and fair story beats definitely helped it along the way, no matter its status as a lost story or its length. An admirable assortment of guest stars fill out the backdrop for the first really “epic” story of Doctor Who, despite the fact that very little of what we see here will be part of the show’s DNA in the long run.

I think that The Keys of Marinus tries, but it doesn’t really help. This seems like a less competent attempt to do what Marco Polo was doing, only with a science fiction backdrop. This epic falls somewhat short, but it does at least have some fair moments to its credit. The excellent drama of the city of Millennius in the final two episodes and the sheer creepiness of the Voord more or less make up for the dreary middle portions of the serial to balance it out to something merely average.

By contrast, The Aztecs comes along like a breath of fresh air to provide 100 minutes of perfect historical drama. For all that its use of white actors in brownface is both badly dated and unfortunate to watch, the serial makes up for it with wonderfully brisk pacing and standout performances from just about all of the cast. I’m almost apprehensive when I note that this is just about as flawless as a historical can get, because it means that almost anything from now on is bound to disappoint.

The Sensorites is probably only as dreaded as it is because of the act it has to follow. It’s true that it’s a little slow, especially later on, but it’s really just bland, not bad. The first two episodes are wonderfully creepy and atmospheric, despite a few problems and some wooden acting. It’s possible to appreciate The Sensorites nonetheless, if only for its status as a portent of things to come.

And last, The Reign of Terror, which rounds out the season on another uninspiring but inoffensive note. Like the last, I found it difficult to say many good things or bad things about this serial, only a few of each. It certainly doesn’t capture the formula of historical it’s trying to emulate. I’m looking forward to Spooner’s future historicals, which I suspect might suit his talents a little better.

Overall, Season One struggles to find its feet in some places, but in others performs magnificent feats of competence which capture the imagination and promise great things to come. The production team who put this all together had to have been wizards to happen upon a formula as timeless and flexible as this. At this point, they clearly still haven’t learned how to use it to its fullest effect, but in all honesty, maybe we still haven’t.

Here’s the score breakdown:

An Unearthly Child - 9.00
An Unearthly Child - 10.00
The Cave of Skulls - 9.00
The Forest of Fear - 8.00
The Firemaker - 9.00

The Daleks - 7.14
The Dead Planet - 8.00
The Survivors - 8.00
The Escape - 8.00
The Ambush - 7.00
The Expedition - 7.00
The Ordeal - 4.00
The Rescue - 8.00

The Edge of Destruction - 8.50
The Edge of Destruction - 8.00
The Brink of Disaster - 9.00

Marco Polo - 9.00
The Roof of the World - 9.00
The Singing Sands - 10.00
Five Hundred Eyes - 9.00
The Wall of Lies - 8.00
Rider from Shang-Tu - 9.00
Mighty Kublai Khan - 9.00
Assassin at Peking - 9.00

The Keys of Marinus - 6.17
The Sea of Death - 6.00
The Velvet Web - 7.00
The Screaming Jungle - 4.00
The Snows of Terror - 6.00
Sentence of Death - 8.00
The Keys of Marinus - 6.00

The Aztecs - 10.00
The Temple of Evil - 10.00
The Warriors of Death - 10.00
The Bride of Sacrifice - 10.00
The Day of Darkness - 10.00

The Sensorites - 6.17
Strangers in Space - 7.00
The Unwilling Warriors - 7.00
Hidden Danger - 6.00
A Race Against Death - 5.00
Kidnap - 5.00
A Desperate Venture - 7.00

The Reign of Terror - 5.83
A Land of Fear - 6.00
Guests of Madame Guillotine - 5.00
A Change of Identity - 6.00
The Tyrant of France - 6.00
A Bargain of Necessity - 5.00
Prisoners of Conciergerie - 7.00

Best episode: The Temple of Evil (The Aztecs, pt. 1) - 10.00
Worst episode: The Ordeal (The Daleks, pt. 6) - 4.00

Season One average: 7.50

Best guest performance: John Ringham as Tlotoxl (The Aztecs)

Best special effect: The first TARDIS dematerialization (An Unearthly Child)

Best musical score: The Daleks (Tristram Cary)

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 23 January 2018.)

The Reign of Terror [Doctor Who, Story 8]

The Reign of Terror by Dennis Spooner

8 August - 12 September 1964

You know, I was given to understand that Dennis Spooner was the “comedy historical” writer. It kind of caught me off-guard when his first outing on the program was more of the Lucarotti historical vein. I mean, it has to be said that it hardly holds a candle to the first two historicals of this season, but it’s by no means bad. The Reign of Terror does suffer from something of a reverse-Sensorites problem where it takes a long time to get its good bits rolling, with parts of the second, third, and fourth episodes containing some of the most pointless twists and turns I’ve seen so far. After a while, incident for incident’s sake does clear out a little, and some good drama finally seeps its way in. The moral of “revolution is bad, perhaps” comes across a little lukewarm to me, but at the end of the day it’s more or less secondary to what is chiefly a historical romp where William Hartnell gets to have a lot of fun wearing silly outfits.

This time the Doctor, out of all the cast, gets to be the star of the show for six weeks. While his companions bumble around in Paris, he seems to delight in talking circles around everyone he meets. And to be fair, he does look spiffy in that regional governor outfit. I was sort of dreading another romantic interest subplot for Barbara, but mercifully, it’s cut off when Leon reveals his true colors and tries to have Ian killed. His subsequent death at the hands of Jules sets up an interesting bit of conflict between Barbara and Ian, albeit one that expires a little too quickly for my liking. I’ll never complain about having my expectations subverted, at the very least. Susan, sadly, fares quite poorly in this serial, especially when held in contrast with The Sensorites. Her complete loss of hope in the face of her would-be prison escape with Barbara because there are rats in their escape route is a much bemoaned moment, and… yeah, I’m not a fan either. I’m sure I’m missing context for some production detail or another that made it difficult or impossible, but couldn’t David Whitaker have kept her writing more even across the season? It’s a little disheartening watching her get jerked around like this.

The guest cast acquits itself quite well. Keith Anderson sounded electric as Robespierre, befitting of the intense and charismatic figure he was. I’m sad that most of his performance is in the two episodes which haven’t been preserved, but at least we get to see him work for a minute or two in the final one. James Cairncross is also very good as Lemaitre. He plays him with such a keen menace through the first episodes that his reveal as James Sterling close to the end comes as a genuine surprise.

To leave the characters aside, there are a few really good bits of production work that deserve highlighting, most especially the beginning of Guests of Madame Guillotine. The silent overview of Paris and the still shot of the eponymous instrument of death before its blade falls to the roars of a crowd sets the atmosphere for this story very well. It’s also worth noting that Doctor Who’s first location shooting takes place during this serial, which certainly lends the setting a more “real” dimension, even if it is just a body double of Bill Hartnell walking along in silence. I couldn’t help but to notice that fire was placed prominently in-shot throughout much of this serial, mostly because the odd, black halo it creates on the black-and-white video. I wonder if its use was intentional, a metaphor for the “flames of discontent”, or violence and fervor, or something like that. The incidental music unfortunately grated on me more than once. The mix was awfully high, which sometimes made it blare over scenes and make them difficult to listen to. And besides, there’s only so many variations on La Marseillaise a gal can hear before getting a little tired of it.

So although it lent a few very good moments, The Reign of Terror didn’t really stand out. Perhaps it would have fared a little better if two of its episodes weren’t missing, but the other four honestly didn’t stick out all that much more. It’s a fairly inoffensive note to leave the season on, but not a whole lot else.

Before we reach the Planet of Giants, I need to wrap up my thoughts on Season One. I’m sure you’ll all relish the chance to discover how I rated each story. See you soon!

Memorable Dialogue

"I suppose you think you're very clever." "Well, without any undue modesty, yes!"

“What a memory I shall leave behind if this thing lasts…”

Miserable Dialogue

None again!

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 23 January 2018.)

The Sensorites [Doctor Who, Story 7]

The Sensorites by Peter R. Newman

20 June - 1 August 1964

Well, I don’t see what all the fuss was about.

Before even getting into the story proper, the writer’s credit made me curious, since I didn’t recognize the name. I was equal parts amused, impressed, and a little terrified that Doctor Who fans had not only tracked down biographical details of Newman, apparently known as one of the program’s most obscure writers, but had made a documentary about him. Who fans will really go to the ends of the earth to chronicle its production history, won’t they? I’m glad Mr. Newman got some recognition for his work on the program, brief though it might have been.

All in all, I fail to see this as a marathon sinker; true, it dragged in some of the later half, but it’s hardly the worst offender so far in that regard (Daleks…). The first two episodes were quite good, and the rest weren’t bad either. I see shades of things to come in The Sensorites, and not just because of their obvious influence on the Ood. The TARDIS crew turning up on a human spaceship in the far future and getting drawn into the politics of a misunderstood race of alien beings sounds quite a bit like The Frontier in Space to me. All of these story conceits will prove to be common in the program going forward, but they’re all novel here. This proves to be another bizarre case of backwards deja vu where I’m seeing things for the millionth time when they’re actually brand new. This must be how River Song feels.

Like some other six-parters, this one seems to broadly be split between one subplot in the first two episodes, and another in the last four. The first, on Maitland’s spaceship, is by far the better half of the serial, with the creepy, claustrophobic atmosphere setting the alien tone of the story in a way which the back four episodes fail to deliver upon in some respects. My only real complaint about the spacebound portion of the story is that the sound mix is occasionally a little overpowering and the high-pitched noise the Sensorite ships made was annoying. Special mention goes to Stephen Dartnell as John, who frankly acts circles around Maitland and Carol throughout the serial but especially in the first two episodes. Also interesting is the fact that Maitland seems to take Barbara and Ian’s status as time travelers totally in stride. I’m not sure if there’s meant to be an implication that time travel is more or less normal in the 28th century (hey, it is in Star Trek), or if I’m reading too much into it. Susan also gets some far better moments here than before, and frankly this is the first time since An Unearthly Child that she’s shown serious promise as a character. The exploration of her psychic abilities is very neat. I can’t help but to notice the Doctor’s line where he claims to be able to read some of Ian’s thoughts. It comes across as a joke, but it’s interesting when you consider that he turns out to be actually telepathic some time later. Her row with the Doctor picks up on some threads left hanging by the first episode, way back when; his proclamation that he and Susan have “never had an argument” is frankly kind of ridiculous, but I think we’re meant to realize as much. The only drawback to this plot thread is that Susan seems to be depressingly quick to back down and acquiesce to her grandfather’s point of view.

Anyway, the Sense-Sphere is cool, albeit a downgrade after the cool spaceship scenes earlier on. The sets look nice, and the Sensorite costumes do too, even if they look a little less convincing on a brightly-lit set than they did on the spaceship. The revelation in the last episode that human holdouts skulking around in the sewer was a very good twist, all told; I certainly didn’t see it coming. Evidently Newman based this story in part on his experiences as a POW in a Japanese camp in Burma during the Second World War, but the only parallel that comes to mind in this story are the three humans in the aqueduct and their tragically prolonged “war” against the Sensorites. The main storyline about the Administrator’s plot to overthrow the First Elder is a little tough to follow. My chief complaint would be that despite having all the time in the world to wrap things up neatly, its resolution gets crammed into the last five minutes of the serial and we don’t even get to see him get his comeuppance aside as the subject of a brief line from the First Elder. If this had been paced a little better and wrapped up in a more satisfactory way, I feel this would have been a stronger serial overall. Decent story though it is, its most noteworthy point remains the fact that it signals things to come.

The Reign of Terror is behead of us!

Memorable Dialogue

“Yes, it all started out as a mild curiosity in a junkyard, and now it's turned out to be quite a great spirit of adventure, don't you think?”

“I don't make threats. But I do keep promises. And I promise you I shall cause you more trouble than you bargained for!”

“At night the sky is a burned orange, and the leaves on the trees are bright silver...”

“All they had left was the game they played. The game of war.”

Miserable Dialogue

None!

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 20 January 2018.)

The Aztecs [Doctor Who, Story 6]

The Aztecs by John Lucarotti

23 May - 13 June 1964

There’s probably no point in pretending that I didn’t love this, is there? Here John Lucarotti puts in a second highly capable addition to Who, one which justifiably ends up on most people’s marathon selections. (They, of course, are the lucky ones - I have to marathon The Sensorites next week.)

First and foremost, the setting. This is the second of the Hartnell historicals, though it’s far disparate from Marco Polo in space and time. Mesoamerica is actually (much like Barbara) my area of choice where it comes to historical study, so it shouldn’t surprise anyone that I inevitably have nitpicks with some of the facets of Aztec culture on display here (to say nothing of the fact that most of the actors are in some form of brownface or another, which is unfortunate). It’d probably be a waste of time, since this serial really does far more right than it does wrong. For one, the costumes look fantastic, especially the eagle and jaguar warrior raiment some of the characters wear. It’s clear that Verity and her crew made the most of having this one filmed at Television Centre, because the sets are almost as gorgeous as the ones on Marco Polo which, yes, includes the matte paintings standing in for the backdrop of (I assume) Tenochtitlan. Even if they lack the three-dimensionality to convince a modern viewer, they still look great. Oh, and the direction is phenomenal. The camerawork is far more dynamic than I was expecting for this period.

But enough about the set and costume design. Barbara, Barbara, Barbara. I knew her reputation coming in, but seeing it firsthand is a wholly different matter. Barbara Wright is swift becoming one of my favorite companions ever at this point, and I only expect my estimation to go up as the next season or so passes. Jacqueline Hill steals the show here, and has the benefit of also having both John Ringham and William Hartnell to bounce off of. When any combination of the three of these is on screen, the story quickly jumps from watchable to riveting without fail. That isn’t to say the others slack; Keith Pyott plays the sensitive, suffering Autloc well, and Margot Van der Burgh is likeable as Cameca. The only real bore is Tonila, but by the looks of it Walter Randall will appear on screen in Who many more times to acquit himself better. William Russell appears to be having fun, but poor Susan gets sidelined yet again. I don’t really blame Carole Ann Ford for leaving in four stories’ time. No matter the high quality of the rest of the cast, Barbara is the star. Her poise as “Yetaxa” is enchanting, and it’s only more so in the first episode when her companions see her in this guise for the first time, before she lowers it and breaks into a delighted grin. The moment at the start of The Bride of Sacrifice when she saves Ian’s life by threatening Tlotoxl’s is possibly the best in the entire serial.

Also quite entertaining is the warrior Ixta’s feud with Ian. Ixta seems to snap between being best buddies with Ian to plotting to kill him at a moment’s notice; it’s clear that he’s kind of a meathead whose best ideas come from Tlotoxl or, on one occasion, the Doctor. The moment when Ian takes him down with a Vulcan nerve pinch is frankly pretty funny, but doesn’t beat the wordless, final face-off between the two atop the pyramid at the climax of the final episode. I actually gasped when Ian sent him tumbling to his death! You don’t get that on the program nowadays. Also deserving of some spotlight here is Autloc and his tragic devotion to Barbara. He seems decent, so we’re led to feel sorry that he’s lied to by “Yetaxa” for much of this serial, a sentiment which Barbara appears to share. Still, I felt glad for him when he left to find his own enlightenment in the wilds. Hopefully it ended well for him. Oh, and lest I forget, Cameca and the Doctor. One certainly doesn’t see Hartnell’s Doctor as a romantic figure, but he seems genuinely smitten with the Aztec lady here, even if he plays it somewhat close to his chest. It’s hilarious how flustered he looks when he realizes he’s inadvertently proposed to her, letting his mouth run far ahead of his mind. I’m amused to note some unintentional prescience in Cameca remarking on the Doctor’s “young soul”, and by his remark that the people in the Garden of Pensioners must be bored out of their minds! How true. Their last farewell is a nice, emotional beat, too. He looks to be trying to stay stony and detached, but I can’t help but to read into this a certain reluctance to his demeanor. Alas, it wasn’t to be.

The central theme of this story is justifiably quite famous, since it has considerable implications for many future stories of the program. Almost from the moment Barbara and Susan step out into Yetaxa’s tomb, it’s clear that the serial is about to explore the matter of changing history. This matter was curiously avoided in Marco Polo, where the main cast bum around with big-name historical characters seemingly without worry that they might mistakenly cause changes to the timeline. Farewell Great Macedon dealt with it a little more closely, taking a similarly firm stance on the issue of changing the past, despite the Doctor’s obvious efforts in that story to prolong the lives of Alexander and his comrades. There’s no mixing of messages here: time cannot be rewritten. Well… not so far in the future, this is amended to something more like “time shouldn’t be rewritten”, or “time can be rewritten but only in the future”, or “time cannot be rewritten but alien civilizations don’t count”. Am I going on a bit? This precept opens up many, many cans of worms, ones which I think must have played a part in the demise of these pure historicals two years down the line. It’s difficult to create drama in these historical serials that isn’t underwritten in some way by the reluctance to portray changes in human history. The desire not to upend Doctor Who’s “present day” is understandable, but it also leads to infuriating changes like Moffat more or less retconning every alien invasion that happened in the Davies era, or more recently the conclusion to the Monks trilogy. But I’m getting far, far ahead of myself. The Aztecs works its way around the problem, more or less, by giving us in the person of Autloc someone for whom the TARDIS crew can make a difference. This is the same sentiment echoed decades down the line in The Fires of Pompeii: “You failed to save a civilization, but at least you helped one man.” This works. But I can’t help feeling that even this early on, in the historicals’ golden age, the seeds of their destruction have already been sown.

Pray for me. The Sensorites is up next.

Oh, and lookie. I’ve renamed the headers for this little segment below.

Memorable Dialogue

“Orkloc.” “Autloc!” (Which I think along with “Day-lecks” has to be up there with the silliest mispronunciation a character in Who has ever uttered.)

“You can’t rewrite history, not one line!”

“Barbara, what you are trying to do is impossible.” “Not Barbara. Yetaxa.”

“Why shall I use divine power while human ability suffices?”

“Drink first.”

“Well, somebody had to make his mind up for him.”

“Think of me…”

Miserable Dialogue

Uhm, none! Congratulations!

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 16 January 2018.)

The Keys of Marinus [Doctor Who, Story 5]

The Keys of Marinus by Terry Nation

11 April - 16 May 1964

Well now. I think it’s time to ring the new year in with a long delayed review, since I’m nowhere near done with Season One. You’ll notice that I’ve decided to abandon the more structured episode-by-episode format to talk about the whole kit and kaboodle at once. This might get kind of questionable with some longer serials, which I intend to break up over a few posts; the first occasion when I’ll probably do that is during The Daleks’ Master Plan a couple seasons from now. I think the change will otherwise keep things looking a little neater, so I’m sticking with it. I chose a fine story for it, when you consider how piecemeal The Keys of Marinus is. This story is Terry Nation’s second contribution to the Who canon (in the non-binding sense of the word). It’s actually sort of odd watching something of his that doesn’t have the Daleks in it. I understand he was heavily involved in Blake’s 7, of course, among other things, but the association’s still there in my mind. And how does this offering compare with the last? Well…

It’s hard to say that this story suffers from a lack of ambition. Cramming a new conflict and location into just about every 25-minute chunk is enough to keep one watching through this at a decent speed, but the results aren’t always satisfactory. The first episode is quite good, with the charming modelwork surrounding the pyramid and the glass beach being one of the story’s best design points (though there are quite a few). Ray Cusick is frankly on point for all six weeks of this, so credit where it’s very much due. I should also make mention of Norman Kay’s incidental music work, since I’ve made plenty of mumbling about music outside of the show and haven’t said a thing about its score. Silly me. A creepy-sounding piece with brass and xylophones plays during the model shots of the beach during the first and final episodes and marks another memorable little detail for this story; you could call it the “Marinus theme”, I guess, since it plays during the title card and later once we return to the same view. Really, quite a few things are individually fantastic about this story, but it doesn’t come together as well as I’d probably like. Things start off okay, with the creepiness of the Voord skulking around and the cool location setting up a cool atmosphere. But we leave it behind in a bit of a quick and perfunctory manner, sending us along to the next.

The Velvet Web has its strong moments, too. The cast is sent along to Morphoton, which might be one of the silliest location names I’ve ever heard (and considering that this is a Terry Nation story, that’s saying something). The slow reveal that there’s something terribly amiss in this place is executed well, with Barbara’s mounting dismay as she sees the disrepair of the place while her fellows cannot heightening the tension marvellously. Jacqueline Hill knocks it out of the park, as always. Carole Ann Ford gets in a good acting moment herself with the way Susan looks genuinely wounded at her “dress” being called out as filthy rags. The double sight is used cleverly through this episode, especially during shots which might otherwise have been expensive or time consuming to make. Seeing the Doctor look at random bits and bobs and proudly declaring them to be scientific instruments is quite funny. The Morphos themselves are fantastically creepy-looking, their sinister grip on the humans of the city belied by their unassuming stature. I kept finding myself snickering about the fact that they sort of look like Gary the Snail from SpongeBob Squarepants. Still, both their evil little monologues and their cries of pain as Barbara smashes their jars open (oops, I wonder if she was meant to actually break that one, those props look expensive) are charming and make for one of the most memorable parts of the serial.

The Screaming Jungle isn’t quite as riveting, I’m sad to say. The creepy sound effects and the design of the idol are probably the best parts of this episode, since nothing else really comes together right. Darrius is the least impressive supporting character we’ve seen so far and doesn’t get to do much but rasp mysteriously before falling over dead after being choked out by vines. His maze looks a little cluttered, and looks sort of dinky and silly until you see that warrior’s swing put a serious dent in the floor and say “oh, God, that’s a real axe”. I’m happy to leave the jungle behind when Barbara and Ian are speedily ushered onward to the next point in their journey. The unforgiving tundra’s a little more convincing, and one at least feels that our regulars are in real danger here, not just from the cold. Vasor is pretty much instantly untrustworthy, especially around Barbara, which made me squirm sufficiently. I can’t say I’m really pleased to watch interactions like that on screen, but at the very least he has his comeuppance by the end of the episode. It’s a mark of favor that Nation has at least gotten us attached to two supporting characters when Altos (by gravy, somebody get that man some pants) and Sabetha turn up again here, and we (or at least I) are relieved to see them again. Once they’ve escaped from a cave and ditched Vasor, they’re off to the penultimate stage of their quest.

Ian arrives at the scene first, before going down from the lightest tap in the universe. When he comes to, we learn that he’s been accused of murder, and worse still, is more or less already doomed to the gibbet before he even has a chance to defend himself. The upside-down nature of justice in Millennius (groan) is clearly wrong to us, but the local bureaucracy seems very sure of itself nonetheless. The man is a friend of Altos’, and another questant seeking the titular keys, which makes us suspicious from the off that something’s up. Or, well, it would if we hadn’t already seen somebody frame Ian for the murder to start with. Gripes aside, the episode and a half spent in Millennius is probably the strongest portion of the whole serial. Seeing the Doctor turn up in the midst of this unfortunate situation is actually a big relief, and his work as Ian’s advocate seems very fitting for the man we saw outwit Kal in the first episodes of the series. The courtroom drama itself is interesting. Susan’s predicament and the complicity of the wife of one of the conspirators also unfold quite tensely, and it’s hugely pleasing when the Doctor emerges from the shadows to gloat at the captured Eyesen and bails Ian out of his situation at last. The cast leaves the place behind to close the circle and finish the journey.

Arriving back at the pyramid by the beach, I think we’re meant to read Yartek’s replacement of Arbitan (groan) as something of a suspenseful moment. There’s a little problem in that the audience has already known Arbitan was dead for five episodes now. I sort of wish this had been left ambiguous at the end of The Sea of Death, since I feel it might have improved this moment somewhat. Seeing the Voord again here, I’m reminded that they’re hardly in this story, despite their headliner status as the chief antagonists. This too is a little disappointing; there was a lot of interesting potential in exploring this race a little more closely, so I guess it isn’t much surprise that numerous off-screen adventures explore them a bit more. Regardless, the resolution is nice. The Doctor proudly declares that “machines can make laws, but they cannot preserve justice” as the avaricious Yartek places the false key from the jungle in the Conscience and sets off a tremendous explosion. It’s a pleasing conclusion to this long morality play, all told, as is our goodbye to Altos and Sabetha. One hopes the happy couple had a nice life after all this drama.

The Keys of Marinus (that being the serial, not the episode) has its idiosyncrasies, between some of the weird narrative choices and the goofily descriptive names of people and places. Like the last Nation story I looked at, it drags at points, but ultimately it kind of works, in an ineffably charming sort of way. It’s by no means my favorite of the season, but as long as this sort of madly ambitious grasping for stories to tell continues, I think I’ll keep having fun with this segment of the marathon. No dialogue segment this time, nothing really stuck out to me and I don’t feel like a script-trawl. You’ll just have to starve of it, my dears.

The Aztecs is next. I’ll grab my macuahuitl.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 10 January 2018.)