The Mutants [Doctor Who, Story 63]

The Mutants by Bob Baker & Dave Martin

8 April - 13 May 1972​

Our second Bristol Boys script comes with a less glowing (tee hee) reputation than The Claws of Axos, but I have to say that I enjoyed this one quite a bit. Although there are parts where the seams obviously show - particularly the change in focus from the political message to the pure sci-fi around halfway through the story - there's a lot of fantastic ideas in this story, plus some really cool visuals.

The Earth Empire's plan to pull out of Solos and grant it independence must have been quite topical at the time, as the United Kingdom was in the later stages of the dissolution of its empire. There are also some obvious indicators pointing to a criticism of South African apartheid, and I don't think that the German name of Jaeger, a scientist performing cruel experiments on the locals, was an accident. Although the Solonians are not technologically sophisticated, they are generally treated with respect by the script, though I'm not sure if it's for the better or worse that they're all white (and male...)

Talking of race, I was pleasantly surprised that there is a speaking role for a named black character in this serial, namely Cotton. Although he isn't a particular standout among the characters of this season, as nice as it is that he's left in charge at the end, I still wish this was something that was a little more normal for the program by this point. The last we had was Fariah, back in 1967/68, and before her, Williams in The Tenth Planet and Jamaica in The Smugglers. Come to think of it, there were a lot of them during Innes Lloyd's tenure, and unless I'm forgetting some exception or another, Rick James playing Cotton is the first since then. Most odd.

The conceit of their metamorphic cycle is absolutely a cool idea, and a nice twist for a species that we at first think is outwardly identical to humankind. Between Thals, the Moroks, the Time Lords and all the others, we come to expect that most alien species are identical to humans, so the fact that the non-humanity of the Solonians is so clearly emphasized is a nice touch. It's undone somewhat by the revelation that their final forms are ethereally beautiful and humanoid (quite glam, in fact) but overall the "don't judge a book by its cover" message is appreciated.

The mutants themselves look fascinating, and although much is made of the CSO in this story by nitpicking fans, I though the cave sequences looked very interesting. The only effect that doesn't really succeed, in my book, is the metamorphosed Ky stretching his arms and no-clipping through Skybase to come save the Doctor. The Skybase set is almost certainly overlit to hell, however, which tends to render the scenes there somewhat visually uninteresting. Generally, it's one sign of many that the direction of this story was not all it could be, and indeed it seems like I'm hardly the first to chalk the flaws of this story up to Christopher Barry's apparent antipathy for this story. The first would be Jon Pertwee, evidently, on whose account Barry won't return to direct again until Tom is the Doctor.

Overall, I had a good deal of fun with this story. There's a solid script here buried under some direction flab, but while it never excels, it's still quite good. The Time Monster is next.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 3 April 2021.)

The Sea Devils [Doctor Who, Story 62]

The Sea Devils by Malcolm Hulke

26 February - 1 April 1972​

Well, now I can see where the season budget went. Between the beautiful location filming, the costumes and effects, and the generous helping of Royal Navy assistance that was offered, there's a lot of eye candy in The Sea Devils. For all that this story touched a lot of the same narrative ground as Doctor Who and the Silurians did two years ago, there's certainly a lot more spectacle that's been injected into the affair. Without that spectacle, this story would probably feel like a complete retread, but as it is, these superficial additions and the reintroduction of the Master as the spanner in the works breathe life into the story.

This time around, our favorite Earth Reptiles are more of a side element for the first few episodes to a plot surrounding the Master's preparations to escape captivity. It really sells the Master's capabilities as a manipulator and escape artist that, by the time we find him, he has already all but broken out, having hypnotized or suborned everyone in the prison, and is just putting up appearances to keep the Doctor guessing. I had already cottoned on when the monitor observed the Master "attempting" to hypnotize a guard. We discover him enjoying a leisurely sit in a handsomely furnished cell, even watching kids' puppet shows on his TV. This is probably his strongest villainous outing yet, and his performance elevates the story immensely.

You know, it's a bit of a cliché when a villainous character promises a useful subordinate that they will "get everything they deserve", but I have a pronounced weakness for it just the same. Accordingly, I had a good chuckle when the Master pulls this line on the smiling Trenchard. Trenchard is a fun secondary antagonist for the episodes where he's present, another in a proud lineage of greedy civil servants who screw themselves over by allying with evil forces. He actually poses a bit of an obstacle to the Doctor when he locks him up after that charmingly choreographed swordfight with the Master. It's odd seeing the Doctor separated entirely from his UNIT support network for the entirety of an earthbound story, but in this instance it works because it makes him the sort of outsider that he never gets to be in a UNIT story, with all its drawbacks and benefits.

The rest of the side cast is also quite enjoyable for the most part. I was especially fond of the sparky 3rd Officer Jane Blythe; June Murphy plays her silent frustration with the sexism and stupid decisions of Walker in a very believable way, and she has a nice energy. Martin Boddey is also tremendous as the eminently dislikable Walker. The sequence where he's tucking into his lunch and explaining how he's going to wipe out the Sea Devils, flecks of food falling carelessly from his mouth as he orders the deaths of numerous British sailors and the Doctor, is certainly a chilling, and very biting, moment. I always enjoy an indictment of this particular wretched species of politician, and Hulke scripts seem to be good for that.

When the Sea Devils do finally come closer to the center of the production, the attempts to make peace that we saw in the Doctor's encounter with the Silurians do - briefly - make a reappearance. At the beginning, I sort of held out hope that things might be different this time around, but the story barely dedicates any time to the Doctor's attempts to make peace. It becomes evident that since the Master has already inveigled himself with the Sea Devils, it will simply be impossible to achieve a bloodless conclusion this time around. The reptiles themselves are well-realized, with awesome costumes and creepy voices. The expansion of the ancient reptile races of Earth to include an aquatic subspecies is a smart idea, and I really wish we would see more of the Sea Devils in the future of the program than we actually do! I do however note that for all his strengths, Hulke is no palaeontologist. Dinosaurs (well, the big scary kind anyway) weren't around anymore in the Eocene either!

And lest we forget amongst all this, the Third Doctor and Jo Grant are as good as they've ever been in these episodes. I've forgotten mostly to remark upon how Pertwee has settled into the role, because he's done it so much faster and more smoothly than either of his predecessors. Really, he's recognizably as the Doctor as early as this story's predecessor, Doctor Who and the Silurians, and has only gone from strength to strength since then. For all that he and Jo Grant had a rocky start in Season Eight, it's clear by this point that they've formed a strong rapport. In the absence of the UNIT boys, Jo gets a lot more to do, and comes across as quite capable and dependable, worlds away from her depiction in Terror of the Autons.

All in all, a very strong addition to the series canon. Onwards to The Mutants next.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 3 April 2021.)

The Face of the Enemy [Doctor Who, Diversion 21]

The Face of the Enemy by David A. McIntee

5 January 1998​

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the Brig and the boys find themselves in a predicament. With the Doctor and Jo off on Peladon, a plot from a parallel timeline unfolds back on Earth, and UNIT is forced to do the unthinkable - asking the Master for help.

So, it's brilliant. At the same time that we get a Doctor story without UNIT, we get a UNIT story without the Doctor. This seems fitting, because it appears we are at the point in time where those two entities start their gradual divorce, as the series becomes more comfortable once again with its original time traveling remit. McIntee clearly likes writing for the Master, because here he is again, filling a part of the void left by the Doctor, but doing it in his own unmistakably Master-y way.

As great as it is when Delgado and Pertwee are on-screen together, with the Master acting as the Moriarty to the Doctor's Holmes, the Master is a fascinating character on his own, as this book proves. People make fun of Big Finish for the volume of spin-offs it puts out, but after reading this I think some of those Master spin-offs they've done are going to deserve some special attention from me.

Also helping to fill this gap, Barbara and Ian! (Should I call them Barbarian?) What a lovely surprise. Although the style of this story couldn't be more different from the episodes they once appeared in, they are still perfectly recognizable as the characters they were, if a bit older and more jaded. The only complaint I'd really have is that we're teased a reunion with the Doctor at the end of the book, but it never comes. Still, it's a small quibble. Just having them back at all is such a wonderful treat. They both seem very bemused by what the UNIT guys take for granted, and they both have such marvelous interactions with the Master. Ian's really got that guy's number, correctly guessing about a lot of the Master's neuroses, even if the Master tries to play it off; and the Master's surprise when Barbara asks why he hates the Doctor is quite nice.

Oh, and lest we forget, this story is also a sequel to Inferno. Rather than an alien force, the Earth's government is being infiltrated by human beings from the parallel Earth we saw in that story. It's an interesting twist on the usual invasion motif, because the threat isn't the other, instead it's us. The ease with which the fascists from the Inferno world infiltrate the systems of government using alternate-universe doubles is quite chilling, and I notice that the end of the book does very little to tell us exactly whether they were all taken care of at the end. Much like the primary antagonist, Marianne Kyle, there's a possible sense here that this was intended as a thread for a potential sequel which never came about.

Kyle herself is an effective enough foe for UNIT and the Master, her ruthless, blind ambition acting as both her greatest strength and her greatest flaw. Ultimately, she makes the mistake of believing that the Master wants power for the same reasons she does, and makes one last foolish attempt to take him into her confidence. This ends with a magnificent series of paragraphs on the submarine Redoubt, where the Master, Kyle, and another Conclave member Yu, all hold guns on each other. The lines where they each try to decide who to shoot first are quite brilliantly done, especially in light of how much more the two humans are sweating than the Master is. In fact, he seems to have a blast with it.

I also liked the DI, George Boucher, quite a lot. I found his desire to avenge his nephew's death highly compelling, so I was rather disappointed when he's killed off long before the end of the book. I might have liked to have seen that play out further.

This book is nothing earthshattering for the continuity or anything, but it does a marvelous job filling this particular spot in the marathon. The Sea Devils will be next.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 2 April 2021.)

The Curse of Peladon [Doctor Who, Story 61]

The Curse of Peladon by Brian Hayles

29 January - 19 February 1972​

What's the word I'm looking for here? "Cozy"? This is the most comfortable that the show has felt in a while, but it's in a setting that has so far been absent from the Pertwee era. It's a funny little paradox, but perhaps a sign that the program is slowly starting to come back around to its original format again after two years with the drier UNIT format. Colony in Space went some of the way toward allowing this story to happen, but as we are now unchained and let loose in an entirely alien environment full of very alien characters, it feels worlds apart from that serial. In fact, it feels rather like Doctor Who again! Although this is certainly not the best specimen of that breed, I thought it was a very cute story and came away with a strongly positive impression.

Despite all the warm fuzzies prompted by the familiarity of this story - such that it is, despite the fact that I've never watched it before - it still contains the same core of social awareness that's shared by the other Pertwee stories of these early seasons, this time as a parable for the UK's entry to the Common Market. This certainly feels different in a post-Brexit world, but the forward-thinking attitude of this story is still appreciated. It's certainly deserving of kudos as well for not talking down to those who were (and are) opposed to such a thing, because the duplicitous Hepesh, for all his crimes, is treated in a very humanizing way. The scene where he admits to the Doctor how afraid he is of change is a nice touch, and his death at the end of the story feels more sad than anything else.

The Galactic Federation delegates are a great addition; Alpha Centauri is justifiably memorable, and the Ice Warriors get an interesting touch of complexity by turning out to be good guys this time around. This twist accomplishes two things, namely another rebuke of the simpler monster story style of the Troughton years (à la Silurians), and by showing that the Doctor is no more immune to prejudice than Hepesh and his ilk. It's nice that the Ice Warriors finally get to do something different from what they did in their previous two outings, and it makes for Hayles's best script yet.

Words of praise are also owed to Katy Manning, who is on fire as Jo during this story. I was greatly amused by the posh accent she so effortlessly puts on once inhabiting her royal persona, and was also a bit startled the first time I heard it. David Troughton is also quite magnificent as King Peladon, putting a lot of gravitas into the role.

All in all, a fun, classic little story. It's almost a shame that I have another literary review coming up before I can continue with what's proving to be a nice season! But I remain curious to behold The Face of the Enemy nevertheless...

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 1 April 2021.)

Who Killed Kennedy [Doctor Who, Diversion 20]

Who Killed Kennedy by David Bishop

18 April 1996​

Here is a book which is somewhat infamous in Who fan circles. While certainly tonally consistent with the other books under the Virgin imprint, it's in the curious position of having no relation to any of their existing ranges, and functions as a "Doctor-lite" sort of story wherein our title character barely features. Instead we follow the ambitious journalist James Stevens (cheekily credited as an author on the cover) who becomes wrapped up in circumstances surrounding the UNIT stories, ending with Day of the Daleks. Rather than the standard narrative style, Who Killed Kennedy is presented to us as a diegetic text, an exposé written in the manner of any number of schlocky conspiracy texts. The resulting effect is quite strange, but if there was ever an era to set this story in, it's this one.

The predominant theme of the work seems to be that of lost innocence, and of a world gone wrong in a moment of senseless terror. It's a bit on-the-nose how the story mentions that James spent his 18th birthday working as a junior journalist because it coincided with the JFK assassination, and never got to celebrate becoming an adult. By the timeframe of the story proper, he's become a cynic buried so deep in his work that he doesn't notice his marriage falling apart. The story actually does very little to endear the man to the reader for the longest time, but his inevitable breakdown leads him eventually in a more likable direction, even if he is ultimately a tragic character. It's his cynicism and willingness to assume the worst about the world that lands him in his predicament; if he wasn't so convinced that UNIT was up to no good, and so interested in his own self-promotion, most of the terrible things that happen to him probably wouldn't have happened. It's telling that he's chastened when he realizes toward the end that UNIT and the Doctor have been saving the world all this time.

The trauma of the JFK assassination on a certain generation is also something that was touched upon in Wonderland, though not in as much depth as we see here. Although James was not present at the event (as a teen, anyway...) as Summer was in that book, it's clear that the passing of Camelot left him with a huge chip on his shoulder and a lifelong fascination with the death of Kennedy. It's fitting that his adult life both begins and ends with this historical event, given that the book makes the rather insane decision of having an older James be the one who pulled the trigger. I don't mean "insane" in a derogatory sense, of course; it's a clever idea, but audacious in the extreme considering the subject. No longer content with merely toying with the mythology of Doctor Who, here the licensed books move on to toying with the icons of Western civilization at large with the same carefree ease.

Of course, here the mythology of the series and the real mythology being played with are one and the same. Doctor Who's debut was infamously overshadowed by the JFK assassination, and ever since, its iconography has haunted the series - from The Deadly Assassin, to this book, to Rose. It just can't get away! It's like some sort of original sin which just cannot be excised. So why is this original sin juxtaposed so directly to the earthbound stories of early Doctor Who? It's impossible to miss this other strand within the novel, one that seems to shine a spotlight on a great big blind spot of the program, namely the common failure to account for the consequences of the Doctor's adventures.

The big example here is obviously Dodo. Her characterization through the novel is mostly quite charming, but nobody remembers that. This book is most infamous for her attempted sexual assault, her pregnancy, and her death. Needless to say, these are all very shocking. Quite honestly, I could have done without any or all of these. Poor Dodo had a bad enough time on televised Who without needing to be put through the wringer here too! But it draws attention to the carelessness of the way she was written out of the show. Although the Doctor tells us in this book that he still feels responsible for her, it's hard to see how when she seems to have been left to fend for herself for all those years and dies an ignominious death. Then later on, there's a shocking moment where the Third Doctor encourages James to take revenge for Dodo's death! Since when urging people to take vengeance a part of the Doctor's M.O.?

As wrong as it all is, there's a kernel of truth behind the implicit criticism here, that when the smoke clears, the Doctor's responsibility seems to be at an end. It's an inevitable consequence of the adventure serial that the program still sort of is at this point, but it's still alarming when it's highlighted. Stray poachers, hapless UNIT soldiers, and ooh-arring homeless people seem to get casually offed with a regularity that's more startling now than it was in the Troughton years, by virtue of the fact that we're now in a context we understand. When a bunch of people get fried by Cybermen on a space station in the future, it's sad, but there's no size to it. When someone recognizably from our epoch of history meets the same fate, it has a different resonance.

I won't call this a moral failing or anything; it's perfectly understandable that the show doesn't want to dwell on the corpses when the adventure is over. So it mostly falls to diversions like this one to highlight the blind spots and make us think of the era differently. As more of a positive, it also highlights what's good about it, namely the densely connected world that is quickly building up around the Doctor during his stay on Earth, and the generally more mature tone of stories. That's a lot to celebrate, no matter what its shortcomings may be.

"A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on. Ideas have endurance without death." - John Fitzgerald Kennedy​

Well, that was a harrowing series of philosophical utterings that I just typed. How about something more fun? Like The Curse of Peladon?

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 1 April 2021.)

Day of the Daleks [Doctor Who, Story 60]

Day of the Daleks by Louis Marks

1 - 22 January 1972​

Imagine my shock when I realized that Britbox only has the special edition DVD cut of this story! My preference is to watch every story in its original, shonky glory wherever possible, so I felt just a tiny bit cheated, even though I did enjoy the "new" special effects. Removing "No complications" is criminal though! If they went back and removed every bad line delivery in the series, then we'd have a lot less Doctor Who to watch. It's no major complaint, but I do wish people could take more pride in the shows they like, warts and all.

The special edition alterations didn't really impact my enjoyment in any meaningful way, though. I thought this was an awesome story, and it came as a bit of a surprise. I was under the misapprehension that the Pertwee Dalek stories had middling to poor reputations, so my expectations have been subverted. Although it mines some of the same ground that The Dalek Invasion of Earth did eight years ago, that's a long time, and there is a slightly different spin on the alternate future that's presented to us. Last time we saw a Dalek-dominated Earth, there were a few collaborators, but they were scavengers who turned Barbara over to the Daleks out of desperation. Now we see people who have made a career out of enforcing the Daleks' will, generationally in fact. It's chilling that the murderous fascism of the Daleks is concealed behind a smiling, corporate façade. The Doctor's confrontation with one of these servants makes for one of the most enthralling sections of dialog we've had in the show so far.

JO: Well, I quite like it here, I must say. Everyone's been most kind.
DOCTOR: Well, I met some people today who were far from kind.
CONTROLLER: That was a simple mistake, Doctor, I assure you. You must not jump to conclusions.
DOCTOR: Well, better than jumping from the crack of a whip from some security guard. Do you run all your factories like that, Controller?
CONTROLLER: That was not a factory, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Oh? Then what was it?
CONTROLLER: A rehabilitation centre. A rehabilitation centre for hardened criminals.
DOCTOR: Including old men and women, even children?
CONTROLLER: There will always be people who need discipline, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Now that's an old fashioned point of view, even from my standards.
CONTROLLER: I can assure you that this planet has never been more efficiently, more economically run. People have never been happier or more prosperous.
DOCTOR: Then why do you need so many people to keep them under control? Don't they like being happy and prosperous?
[...]
DOCTOR: When I meet a regime that needs to import savage alien life forms as security guards, I begin to wonder who the real criminals are.
JO: Those creatures aren't really savage.
CONTROLLER: Exactly. They are simply guard dogs. They just do what I tell them.
DOCTOR: You mean there aren't enough humans around that will follow your orders so blindly?
CONTROLLER: That is not what I was saying.
DOCTOR: Isn't it? Then what you're saying is that the entire human population of this planet, apart from a few remarkable exceptions like yourself, are really only fit to lead the life of a dog. Why?

Even in an era which has already shown its teeth on politics, this is some biting stuff, and it's thrilling. Although it must be said that the Daleks are fairly peripheral in their first outing since 1967, I didn't mind at all and found the central story to be incredibly strong. The human dimension of this script is the more important one, and the marginalization of the Daleks allows it to breathe.

The time travel conceit of this one was very clever, and it's refreshing to once again see some more sophisticated use of time travel in Doctor Who. Admittedly, I'm still a little confused how the guerrillas jumped to the "Styles must have been the one who planted the bomb" conclusion, but I suppose the point is that, to mangle an aphorism, history cheats. They just take the fact for granted because it's written that way in their history books, and almost create a causal loop that leads to their own future. It's very smart stuff.

I should also praise the set dressing in this story. It's hard to gauge the future setting since its skyscrapers were mostly CGI in the version I had to watch, but Auderly House is absolutely beautiful, and the scenes around it are shot well. The sight of the Daleks and Ogrons parading up the lawn to the bright white Georgian edifice while UNIT troops feverishly try to hold them back are extremely memorable.

A word must also go to Aubrey Woods, who is just phenomenal as the Controller, a character who, despite having no name of his own, is the most strikingly human side character in the whole story. Watching him go from the Daleks' lickspittle, to gradually suffering from a breakdown of confidence, to finally defiantly announcing that he might have just exterminated them before dying, is a really intriguing little arc, and his performance adds a lot to the story.

In fewer words, I enjoyed this a lot. Season Nine is off to a great start. I'll be diving back into the non-televised world next for Who Killed Kennedy. That should be interesting...

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 30 March 2021.)

Cities Made of Song, 1971

Cities Made of Song, 1971 - Heart of the Sunrise by Yes

​

Lest we forget that we are now in the age of rock extravagance, here's Yes.

Starting as one of the many club bands in the Soho scene in the late Sixties, it's doubtful at the beginning that anything would have set Yes apart from the crowd. There was no shortage of bands made up of hopeful youngsters playing Beatles covers at the time. Of course, as fate would have it, Yes rose to the top. It's hard to say exactly what allowed this to happen, but it does go without saying that the first core lineup - Bill Bruford, Chris Squire, Steve Howe, Jon Anderson, and Tony Kaye - are or were phenomenal musicians. For my money, Squire was the pulse of this group, and certainly a bass player to admire.

Despite their humble beginnings, by 1971 Yes were on top of the rock world after the release of "The Yes Album", their first megahit. In what seems to be a pattern for bands of this period, they pretty much instantly went back into the studio. This time, Kaye wouldn't be joining them, ejected for his unwillingness to experiment with the Moog or mellotron. (Or maybe his playing was just out of Kaye?) The band picked up Rick Wakeman, a session keyboardist in great demand, and thus the "classic lineup" was complete. "Fragile" would be the appropriately chosen title for an album delivered at a delicate point in the band's life, and would be the first Yes record to showcase the psychedelic art of Roger Dean.

Superficial changes are all well and good, but this record is also a league above their previous. Don't get me wrong, "The Yes Album" is a classic, but "Fragile" is something special. Every member of the band was allowed to cut loose and put one of "their" songs onto this record, which gives it a diversity of styles which are, nevertheless, clearly all the same brand of quirky prog rock. Roundabout is a standout, obviously (and has an amusing afterlife of popularity today, thanks to a certain anime), but I have to say that I like Heart of the Sunrise the best. This 11-minute epic has it all, including the time-honored prog tradition of taking almost four minutes for the lyrics to come in. Squire and Bruford are absolutely on fire, machine-gunning out that intro, and that coda at the end is just so charming.

Yes catches a lot of stick as the poster child of overblown progressive rock, but I've never really understood that position. The lyrics never make much sense and it's definitely over the top, but over the top things can be fun too, no? I think some people are simply allergic to having fun.

That's enough off-topic music discussion for the moment, I think. Day of the Daleks is next.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 30 March 2021.)