Cities Made of Song, 1974

Cities Made of Song, 1974 - Seven Seas of Rhye by Queen​

I once met someone who laughed when I mentioned "favorite Queen albums".

"Why would you care about the albums?" he asked. "They were a singles band."

Phooie! And again, I say phooie! Queen were a group just as capable of composing sophisticated albums in the studio as they were of dominating the radio waves. The fact that their LP discography seems rarely remembered is a real pity, since they put out several incredible rock albums through the 70s, and for that matter, several good ones later on. In all honestly, "Innuendo" is actually my favorite, followed by "Sheer Heart Attack", and then "Queen II".

"Queen II" is an odd duck. Like most bands of the time, Queen had started in clubs a few years before they ever recorded a record, and their first album is about as standard hard rock as you can get. But it's clear that being another Led Zeppelin clone was never going to rest well with any member of this group, whose ambitions always stretched much further. So after an uncommonly long production period, running from mid 1973 to the first days of 1974, Queen showed us a little more of the band that they would become with this excellent record.

There's a bit of chessboard imagery here, and the album is divided into a "white" side and a "black" side. They're tied together by a number of songs covering a loose fantasy theme, showing progressive rock influences without ever quite crossing over into that genre. Actually, the type of rock on display is pretty undefinable, which I like very much. It's still hard rock of a sort, but there's tinges of prog, tinges of metal, tinges of glam, and everything in between. I'm a particular fan of the thumping Ogre Battle which eventually gave its name to an entertaining strategy game series by Enix. March of the Black Queen is notable for being sort of a proto-Bohemian Rhapsody, the second longest tune in Queen's catalog, and musically very complex. Seemingly it was a pain in the neck to produce, but the results are undeniably spectacular. This song has received a lot of heightened attention online in the last couple of years because of a line which, at least in the original version of the song, contains the N-word. It's startling just how much standards of what is and isn't acceptable in music have changed in the last 50 years.

Seven Seas of Rhye was intended as radio bait, and hey, it worked. It peaked at #10 on the UK charts and has been one of Queen's most enduring hits. The only complaint I have about it is that it's so short! That intro is one of the most interesting instrumental sequences Queen ever did, and the soaring harmony in the middle eighth is just divine. I profess a special fondness for the fade-out in the coda and the singing of I Do Like to Be Beside the Seaside; I'm tempted by the coincidence that Pertwee rattled off this same tune just earlier in the first part of Death to the Daleks, but to steal a phrase from Ghosts of N-Space, it's probably just another case of synchronicity!

For all the flaws of its longest and most ambitious track, this album shows heaps of promise for a band that was rapidly coming into its own. Perhaps we'll visit Queen again for one of the future Cities Made of Song posts. For now, I'll be doing my denouement post for the Pertwee era. Cheers.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 13 April 2021.)

Doctor Who, Season Eleven

Here's another victory lap for the books. The fifth and final Pertwee season is now wrapped up! It's been a curious thing; while certainly not a bad season by any means, after four seasons which seemed so confident in what they were doing, Season Eleven feels like something of an afterthought. This is more of a coda to an era - but nevertheless, a nice coda.

For the roster of writers, we're only missing Baker & Martin for a who's-who of the Pertwee era. Yet another excellent Bob Holmes story is joined by the last scripts from Hulke, Hayles, and the Sloman-Letts duo, and the increasingly rare contribution from Terry Nation. It's sad to see the last contributions from several of these people, but it's good that things are changing and staying fresh. With the benefit of hindsight, it does seem very obvious that Holmes is gearing up to take over the position of script editor, and I'm excited to see how that goes for him.

Here's the score breakdown:

The Time Warrior - 9.50
Part One - 10.00
Part Two - 9.00
Part Three - 10.00
Part Four - 9.00

Invasion of the Dinosaurs - 8.50
Part One - 9.00
Part Two - 9.00
Part Three - 8.00
Part Four - 8.00
Part Five - 8.00
Part Six - 9.00

Death to the Daleks - 5.75
Part One - 8.00
Part Two - 6.00
Part Three - 5.00
Part Four - 4.00

The Monster of Peladon - 5.67
Part One - 6.00
Part Two - 5.00
Part Three - 5.00
Part Four - 6.00
Part Five - 6.00
Part Six - 6.00

Planet of the Spiders - 7.50
Part One - 8.00
Part Two - 7.00
Part Three - 7.00
Part Four - 7.00
Part Five - 7.00
Part Six - 9.00

Best episode: The Time Warrior, Part One - 10.00
Runner-up: The Time Warrior, Part Three - 10.00
Worst episode: Death to the Daleks, Part Four - 4.00

Season Eleven average: 7.35

Best guest appearance: Kevin Lindsay as Commander Linx (The Time Warrior)
Best special effect: The Exxilon city (Death to the Daleks)
Best musical score: Death to the Daleks (Carey Blyton)

The 1974 music post will be coming soon.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 13 April 2021.)

Planet of the Spiders [Doctor Who, Story 74]

Planet of the Spiders by Robert Sloman & Barry Letts

4 May - 8 June 1974

"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.)

The Monster of Peladon [Doctor Who, Story 73]

The Monster of Peladon by Brian Hayles

23 March - 27 April 1974​

Although prior eras had continuity between separate stories on occasion, the Pertwee era seems to have relied on this continuity more than either of the eras before it. Case in point, this serial, which I'm sure that one can't really enjoy without having first seen The Curse of Peladon two seasons previous. The most interesting parts of this story, namely its more critical look at the Galactic Federation, are best viewed in the context of the more optimistic prequel. As a follow-up to Curse, this story is a bit interesting. Divorced from that story, it's a rather boring affair.

Quite honestly, it's a little dull no matter which way you slice it. The twists are simply not as interesting, nor the performances quite as strong, as the other Peladon story. Ortron is essentially a less interesting Hepesh, and Nina Thomas, while still good as Queen Thalira, is no David Troughton. I feel like it's a bit of a waste that Eckersley and Azaxyr are revealed as agents of Galaxy Five (not Galaxy Four?) rather than simply being corrupt but still a part of the Federation. It removes a bit of the nuance that the story was attempting. Still, it is nice that the miners are introduced to tell us a bit more about the diversity of Peladon's people, and its class system, even though those wigs of theirs are terrible.

Notably, this story once again touches on feminism through the lens of Sarah Jane, who rather charmingly tries to encourage Thalira to exert her authority. This plot feels like an afterthought however, as no amount of girlbossing from Thalira ends up saving the day, with perhaps the exception of her biting Eckersley's hand at the end.

Really, most of this story's strengths rely upon the interesting setting that is Peladon, which it inherited from the previous story. It introduces very little of its own that captured my imagination. It's unfortunate that the penultimate story of the Pertwee era should be its most dull, but I could see this one growing on my in the fullness of time.

The end is very nearly here. Planet of the Spiders is next.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 12 April 2021.)

The Ghosts of N-Space [Doctor Who, Diversion 26]

The Ghosts of N-Space by Barry Letts

20 January - 24 February 1996​

Having listened to The Paradise of Death already, I came into The Ghosts of N-Space thinking I knew what to expect. Little did I know! Even the title misled me, as the N-Space mentioned is nothing to do with the N-Space previously coined in Tom Baker's last season, but instead is short for Null-Space. Rather like The Time Monster, also penned in part by Letts, this story seems to fall victim to a sort of idea soup, where a number of interesting concepts are at play, but few of them are given the time they need to breathe.

This also, unfortunately, has a number of the same flaws which dragged down The Paradise of Death - namely some iffy voice acting choices, confusing sound design during action scenes, Jeremy Fitzoliver, etc. - but without quite the same coherence of plotting to save it. It also suffers from being about 25 minutes longer than the preceding serial, at a full six parts, very typical of a Pertwee story.

This story has an even greater preoccupation with alchemy than any of David Whitaker's scripts, which is really saying something. The villain is an alchemist-slash-sorcerer-slash-Satanist from the 16th century, who is moonlighting in the 20th century as a mafioso after discovering an elixir of life. Since the fiends of Null-Space are shaped by perception, he turns it into a Bosch painting sort of landscape full of shrieking devils when he briefly takes it over. The religious overtones come across a bit oddly, compared with the more delicate touch seen in Planet of the Spiders, and this time are nevertheless more Christian than Buddhist.

Once more, I'm pleased that excuses are found to draw the Brig into the adventure even though it's not a UNIT story. Seeing the golden trio performing together one last time is quite heartwarming, even if the story itself isn't really good. So for all that I struggled to listen through the whole thing, Pertwee, Sladen, and Courtney kept me going on. That makes it just about worthwhile.

The timeline seems to be normalizing again, and next we're back to Season Eleven and The Monster of Peladon. See you then.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 12 April 2021.)

Death to the Daleks [Doctor Who, Story 72]

Death to the Daleks by Terry Nation

23 February - 16 March 1974​

After so many years without having any Daleks at all, it's been profoundly strange having three stories featuring the little guys in as many seasons. I confess that, of the three, Death to the Daleks is probably the least successful. That isn't to say it's a bad story. In fact, having finished watching this era as of the time of this writing, there isn't a single bad story in the whole of Pertwee's run. But this remains perhaps one of the least successful.

It's hard to put my finger precisely on why. None of the individual components were especially poor, but just like what happened on my first viewing of this story four years ago, I found myself curiously sedated by the experience and just about ready to drift off by the end. There's also a certain tonal issue with this story. The Chase felt like it was sending up the Daleks by making them look silly, but I really can't tell if this story is trying the same thing on purpose. The Daleks enter the story unable to operate their weapons, looking quite silly when they try to exterminate the human mining team, and spend much of it being killed by Exxilons, garden hoses, and even self-destructing over failing to keep Sarah Jane captive. I think I have to assume that it is intentional, but if so, that it feels out of place.

The humans feel like they've come out of some sort of cod-Star Trek setting (Federation pins and all), and are on the hunt for, ahem, parrinium. A couple of stories over the past seasons, like Carnival of Monsters, reference some kind of "space plague", so I wonder if the one described here is supposed to be the same one. None of these humans really stood out to me apart from John Abineri's Railton, who nevertheless is killed off quite early. Probably the only memorable guest character (aside from the Daleks themselves) was Bellal, the exiled Exxilon.

Generally speaking, I thought Part One was fairly brilliant and atmospheric, with the darkened sky and mists making Exxilon (the planet, not the people) seem more mysterious and dangerous. It's a little disappointing that the effect isn't maintained through the rest of the story, which rapidly loses my interest with the puzzle-solving in the trapped city.

For all that this story has some fun elements and interesting ideas, then, it averages out into quite the tranquilizer, and a bit of a disappointing turnout for the Daleks. Better luck next time, Terry?

As promised, The Ghosts of N-Space is next.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 12 April 2021.)

Invasion of the Dinosaurs [Doctor Who, Story 71]

Invasion of the Dinosaurs by Malcolm Hulke

12 January - 16 February 1974

"There never was a golden age, Mike. It's all an illusion."​

I'd be remiss not spending a part of this post memorializing Malcolm Hulke. Invasion of the Dinosaurs was his last script for the program, and although he would spend some years further working on novelizations of his own stories for the Target range, he would not contribute to the TV show again. It's a real shame, because I'd consider him one of the most conscientious and clever writers that Doctor Who ever had, and because he died far too young, at the age of 54 in 1979. Although a few of his stories weren't complete successes, there's not a single one that didn't have a lot of heart and wit behind it.

This last script of his is no exception. Coming quick on the heels of The Green Death, which had a more optimistic vision of environmentalism, it's easy to see this story as if it might be a reaction in some way. He must have liked the propaganda tape bit, because the concept is reused from Colony in Space, a story where, if you recall, everyone is packed onto the Earth like hens in a hutch without any space for themselves. The issue of overpopulation is returned to here, but a more critical light is shone upon it.

The timing couldn't be more appropriate, because over the past couple of days, the late Duke of Edinburgh's remarks in the 1980s about "solving" overpopulation have been circulating again - a confusing quote where he says, should reincarnation exist, he'd like to be reborn as a deadly virus. Implicit in this story, though not spelled out directly, is the perfect riposte to this sort of talk: "Overpopulated by whom?"

It's easy for people living in the "developed" world to tut about rising birth rates and depleting resources in the global south, but the types who point this out (at least in my country, and I imagine in Britain as well) fail to understand that it's generally because of a history of colonization, and later exploitation through globalized capitalism, that these countries have these problems. It's because their material wealth, their natural resources, and their manpower were stolen from them that these issues have arisen, not because of something as simple as "too many babies".

We see where this kind of banal rhetoric leads those who fall for it in this story, as Mike Yates, traumatized by the effects of Global Chemicals' mind control and pollution in The Green Death, is duped into believing in a "golden age" before the onset of industrialization when everything was good and right and gentle. After spending three seasons with Yates, for all that I never warmed to him like I did to Benton, it's heartbreaking seeing him fall for this and betray the rest of the regular cast. It's an incredibly brave writing decision, and effective too. The look of hurt on the Doctor's face when he realizes is great, as is the moment soon after when he expresses doubt over whether the Brigadier is also involved. It's clear that the cozy little UNIT family's very existence is now in question.

I was a little worried when the "spaceship" segments were introduced, hoping that the story wouldn't spread itself too thin across both Earth and space, but was relieved by the revelation that (reminiscent of the bunker in The Enemy of the World) the spaceships are a fraud, and they're actually underneath Project Golden Age's control center in London. Looking at the people that Sir Charles Grover has seen fit to preserve for his "New Earth", it's probably unintentional, but certainly apropos, that "the right sort of people" only seem to include white Britons.

It is once again my duty to inform you that, tragically, the dinosaurs don't stand up to standards of scientific rigor, but really, I can't see why the dinosaur puppets are the main thing people talk about with this story. They're really fine, honestly, and the core message is far and away more striking. This is a brilliant story, and one sadly still relevant today, when people make ignorant posts about empty city streets under COVID lockdown where animals are wandering around where they shouldn't be, saying "nature is healing". Nature will never heal until humans find more civilized and equitable ways of distributing resources, and believe it or not, wiping out the entire population and starting over with a blank slate is not the answer.

Sorry for getting political, but I think it's what Mac Hulke would have wanted! Death to the Daleks is next.

KKLAK!

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 11 April 2021.)

The Paradise of Death [Doctor Who, Diversion 25]

The Paradise of Death by Barry Letts

27 August - 24 September 1993​

Flash forward twenty years. Sophie and Sylvester walked off-screen four years ago. The thirtieth anniversary celebrations, such as they are, are underway, and fans can look forward to a charity TV special to mark the occasion a few months away. I didn't live through this, but I have to imagine it was kind of a bum event for Doctor Who fans, who after only four years in the wilderness must have started to realize that no new season was coming any time soon. Something curious, though - Jon Pertwee is Doctor Who in a new serialized adventure, on BBC Radio 5.

Really, the most surreal part of this experience for me is that it's not Big Finish, because they are, these days, more or less the sole purveyors of new Doctor Who audio content. I'm aware that BBC produces some of its own, but they don't tend to be full-cast audio dramas like this. So it's easy to see this as a precursor for The Sirens of Time six years later, which is certainly laudable.

The story itself is really nothing special, but it's so nice to hear Jon Pertwee, Elisabeth Sladen, and Nicholas Courtney all together again after so many years, and a sobering reminder that none of them are with us any longer. The regulars all perform very well, and they're aided by a few good guest performances. The highlight is clearly Peter Miles as Tragan, who manages to make this particular villain feel different from Nyder and Whitaker, while still delightfully slimy. I wish I could compliment Jeremy Fitzoliver, who I think is supposed to be a send-up of the "screaming female companion" stereotype because he's a boy, but quite honestly I just found him terribly annoying.

Barry Letts obviously has no trouble recapturing the feeling of an adventure from this era, this time seeming to focus on the dangers of "Experienced Reality", or in other words, bad television. Parakon is a world that's given up on anything of serious moral character (see the references to the dissolution of the temples) in lieu of watching enemies of the regime be killed in VR broadcasts as a sort of blood sport. It's certainly interesting, but gets a little confused. I have a sense that this script could have used a few more passes to polish it up a bit.

That said, I found this an enjoyable experience. I'll be checking out its twin story later on this season, but for now it's back to 1974 for Invasion of the Dinosaurs next.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 10 April 2021.)

Cities Made of Song, 1973

Cities Made of Song, 1973 - Firth of Fifth by Genesis​

The progressive rock streak continues! Although they performed in the same genre, broadly speaking, it's striking how different Genesis and Gentle Giant, who I reviewed last time, really were. Needless to say, Genesis were a fair bit more of a big deal, to the extent that they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame a while back. It's a just recognition for a band that's been named as an influence for so many later artists, and even though the other G-band is more my "favorite" than Genesis is, these guys were still brilliant artists.

Many Genesis fans are quite partisan about what kind of Genesis they actually like, however. After Peter Gabriel left the band in the mid-Seventies and Phil Collins took up the frontman/vocalist role, and especially once Steve Hackett was gone, the group drifted generally in a more pop-oriented direction. Some fans abominate the pop rock tunes they made in the Eighties, while others sigh at the long-winded and more whimsical music of their early years. In essence, the argument revolves around whether or not they "sold out", and whether or not that's a bad thing.

I think it's a bit of a baffling argument, personally. Do people really think Genesis would still have been good if they'd been putting out sprawling, breathless prog epics into the Nineties? They would have gone around the bend long before that if they'd never changed styles. I'm a rare breed, because I love Invisible Touch almost as much as I love, say, The Return of the Giant Hogweed. No fear of change here.

Speaking of selling out, though, it's interesting that this very thing was a preoccupation of the band far earlier in their career. When "Selling England by the Pound" came out, Genesis were fresh off the back of their breakthrough American tour, having just struck it big in that country for the first time. It's telling that their very next album after this was something which is even more consciously and pronouncedly British than their last. Like "Nursery Cryme", a lot of it feels very English fairy tale, from references to locations in the British Isles, to moonlit knights and the joys of a good breakfast. Clearly Genesis weren't content to leave what made them unique behind in order to succeed in new markets.

In terms of personal preference, I'm really fond of Cinema Show/Aisle of Plenty, but Firth of Fifth has to be my favorite. The lyrics aren't much, but the instrumentals are what make this tune so very good. Tony Banks and Steve Hackett absolutely steal the show, the former's piano solo opening and closing the track in such a beguiling way. The guitar solo of the latter might be the most beautiful I've heard in a piece of music, ever. This is an experience, plain and simple.

What an extraordinary band. And do you know what? I don't really care if someone prefers this track over I Can't Dance or not. As long as they're having fun.

Rather than returning straight to television, I'll next be enjoying a curious diversion to The Paradise of Death. See you then.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 10 April 2021.)

The Time Warrior [Doctor Who, Story 70]

The Time Warrior by Robert Holmes

15 December 1973 - 5 January 1974​

Robert Holmes certainly doesn't do stories by halves. It's clear that by this point he's come a long, long way from the likes of The Krotons and The Space Pirates. I can see why Terrance Dicks tapped him as his successor to the role of script editor, because all four of the stories that he's done during this era have been among its very best. It's an interesting thing, too, because by all accounts, Holmes didn't really want to set a story in the middle ages. His lack of faith in the pseudo-historical format is pretty obvious from his tenure as script editor, where they became rarer, before all but disappearing entirely during the reign of Graham Williams. So it's surprising that he still gives it his all. It's obvious that he absolutely devoured all of this period dialog, as Irongron's aphorisms are as memorable as they are oblique.

Talking of Irongron, David Daker breathes life into the role in a big, big way. The on-and-off bromance and animosity he has with the Sontaran warrior Linx is to die for. Kevin Lindsay also deserves heaps of praise for giving such life and emotive strength to Linx despite being in heavy makeup and/or a helmet for the entire story. Linx is written in a manner that quickly characterizes his species in a memorable way, telling us all we need to know of the Sontarans in what seems like a very small amount of time. His basic inhumanity is best characterized in the moment when, being told of sexual dimorphism in humans, he complains, "It is an inefficient system, you should change it."

Aside from the splendid guest acting, believe it or not the next thing to jump out to me was the costume design. The Doctor and Sarah Jane both look very smart, he in his green frock coat and she in her sweater vest. The medieval costumes are totally believable, Linx's armor is justifiably memorable, and I enjoyed the touch that some of the brainwashed scientists are milling around in their jammies, recalling the detail from the first episode that some were kidnapped in their sleep. It's some very intelligent work and helps to sell the visual impression of the story.

That medieval castle set is brilliant too, and its grimy atmosphere seems very realistic, while also sending up traditional images of gleaming castles and noble knights. Satire seems to be Holmes's forte, as always. One never really expects Doctor Who to be realistic, but the more gritty portrayal of the past offered by this story stands in contrast to the more stagey Hartnell historicals of yesteryear.

I think I've gone on a bit too long without remarking upon the long-awaited arrival of Sarah Jane Smith, however. Being more familiar with her 21st century appearances, it was a bit of a shock seeing Elisabeth Sladen so young! She's a bit more sparky and independently-minded than Jo, but from the off is still very charming. The serial does her a bit of a disservice by saddling her with some indignant remarks about feminism. It smacks of a male writer clumsily trying to come to terms with the burgeoning women's lib movement of the 70s, not with malice, but perhaps just a bit of ignorance. Still, she does get several brilliant moments, such as her resourcefulness in the face of her predicament, and I was quite amused by her initial reactions to finding herself back in time. Honestly, if I was in the same position, I'd probably conclude I was being harassed by LARPers, too.

Small quibbles aside, this is such a brilliant script, and well-realized on screen, too. It was nice to see the great wizard Quiquaequod return and scare away soldiers with his sorcery, and Pertwee seems to gobble this up. I was a little worried that he'd slow down a bit in his last season, knowing the pressures he must have been under after five years in the role, but there's certainly no sign of it here. This is a fantastic little story, and an encouraging start for this season.

For the first time since 1969, we're getting a music post that isn't in a gap between seasons. Time to go ruminate on my 1973 song pick.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 10 April 2021.)