"The old man must die, and the new man will discover to his inexpressible joy that he has never existed."
One hears a certain impression that season finales need to be epic, and regeneration stories even more so. Of course, the thing is that before this, there never was a "regeneration story" in Doctor Who. For a start, it was never called "regeneration" until Part Six of Planet of the Spiders. And although in some ways The War Games touched upon the experience of regenerating, at least in the last two episodes, Planet of the Spiders is nevertheless the first story to actually be written around the incumbent Doctor's impending change as its primary story beat. I must also point out that rather than being self-consciously epic, this story feels so right because it's more intimate, focusing on the Doctor's inner space instead of outer space.
There is somewhat of a valedictory air around the whole thing, most keenly seen in that delightfully goofy, but charming, vehicle chase sequence across land, air and sea in Part Two. Jon Pertwee goes out with as much style and verve as he had throughout his tenure. Although Katy Manning isn't here, it's nice that there's a letter from Jo accompanying the Metebelis crystal, and Kismet Delgado got to participate although her late husband could not. This seems like the proper sort of "everyone is here" send-off that this particular era deserved.
It's nice to see that Yates has been taking care of himself (and growing out his hair) since his discharge from UNIT. I might have liked for his betrayal in Invasion of the Dinosaurs to have been touched on just a tad more, but it's nice having him back for one last hurrah even if it's not his most heroic. The fact that he found healing and meaning through a Tibetan Buddhist center seems to be autobiographical on Letts's part, as he did much the same thing after his experiences as a submarine officer in the Second World War. Buddhist themes permeate this story, and I won't pretend that I'm smart enough or well-versed enough in Buddhism, Vajrayana or otherwise, to comment on its portrayal.
Although this is far from Letts's last involvement with the program - we have him as producer until Robot, and he will of course work on it in other capacities later - this is still the last story of the era which he helped to define, so it seems appropriate to tip my hat to him at this juncture. It's clear that Letts's liberal leanings and worldview were responsible for that thing I loved the most about the Pertwee era, its earnestness. Letts and Dicks commissioned so many great writers during this period, who consistently turned in socially conscious and, on the whole, very interesting scripts. His good sense for action, flair, and spectacle all served the program well and elevated it to new heights of popularity. And above all, he was instrumental in crafting the show he inherited into one that's recognizably the predecessor of the one we have today.
Admittedly, there are areas where this story does not completely succeed. The human colonist descendants that the Doctor meets are generally quite flat. In Part Six, I couldn't really tell that Arak and Tuar were mind controlled, since they'd seemed just as wooden the whole time. Metebelis III is undoubtedly less alien, and less interesting, than it was in The Green Death, but as with The Monster of Peladon, it is nice to see a story where there are consequences for the Doctor's previous visit to a world. The spiders were pleasingly creepy, and I enjoyed the concept of them also seeing Earth as their homeworld, the same as the humans they dominate. I was also (briefly) delighted to see Cyril Shaps back, until he once again died! Three for three, poor fellow.
The most interesting part of the story to me was its partial deconstruction of the Third Doctor as a character. He has always been a proud and temperamental creature, which I've interpreted as a consequence of the way in which the Second Doctor died. Having been forced to change his appearance and then all but caged on a primitive planet with parts of his memory excised, it is easy to interpret his pride as a reaction and as a means of grasping for control of his own life again. Having slipped these bonds and returned to traveling the universe at large, this pride has gotten the better of him without anything to hold it in check. It's sad then, but fitting, to see him humbled by his ordeal in this story, forced to face his death and surrender what he stole. Considering that he does this while up against the screaming Great One extolling its own power and importance, it's clear that this marks a moment of ego-death for the Doctor. (Which, considering that Tom Baker is on his way, is really quite ironic...)
Although this is far from the greatest story of the Pertwee years on a basic episode-by-episode plotting basis, it is still rather clever, and in my opinion an eminently fitting way to say goodbye to this most glam of Time Lords.
That's all for now! I'll write up my overall impressions of Season Eleven tomorrow.
(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 13 April 2021.)
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