The Silurians

Dear Gary—

“As an associate of UNIT I think you will find that I have the authority to do precisely as I please.” Ah, yes; I remember now, Gary. Doctor Who and the Silurians begins a dangerous trend of smug self-righteousness in the Doctor that I never cared for. Perhaps that is why I have been putting off writing this.

“My dear Miss Shaw,” the Doctor harrumphs when told that the Brigadier would like to see him, “I never report myself anywhere, particularly not forthwith.”

On the one hand he is using his position with UNIT and the Brigadier as an excuse to do as he pleases, and on the other he disdains them. “Typical military mind, isn’t it? Present them with a new problem and they start shooting at it.”

Yet, I like this story, Gary. Watching it, I enjoy it. But trying to think about it, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It’s not the story’s fault in and of itself. No, it is knowing what is to come. It is knowing that this smug self-righteousness that is in its infancy here will rear its ugly head again to much greater degree in the future of the show.

But I am on the slow path, Gary, and I must set aside future knowledge and concentrate on this one story in the long road of the Doctor Who chronology.

The Silurians of our title are a new monster for the Doctor, and it is an interesting concept that these are the true inheritors of the Earth; the indigenous population hibernating beneath the surface waiting for the perfect moment to take their rightful place in the sun.

But I don’t know, Gary. How is it that this brilliant reptilian race from millions of years ago had found the time to evolve much beyond that of Mankind, yet they were fooled into thinking that the advent of the moon would wreak such havoc that they had to burrow themselves deep within the bowels of the Earth, and how is it that these geniuses didn’t take into account the possibility of a fault in their system so that they would oversleep by millions of years?

OK; it is Doctor Who after all; we suspend our disbelief.

I can suspend my disbelief; I really can. I do it all the time. What I find hard to suspend is my foreknowledge. And when I see the germination here in this story I can’t seem to get past it.

And so when the Doctor first meets the wounded Silurian that the mean man shot and says, “Hello. Are you a Silurian? What do your people want; how can we help you?” And goes on, “Unless you Silurians tell us what you want the humans will destroy you,” I know I should side with the Doctor, but I just keep thinking how pretentious it all is.

And I hear the Doctor saying, “I’ve got no time to chat to Undersecretaries, permanent or otherwise,” and think, who is he to decide that a Silurian is worth chatting up but an Undersecretary is not? This new incarnation of the Doctor is very judgmental.

This exchange with the Brigadier is especially revealing:

Doctor: “Spoken like a true soldier.”

Brigadier: “It is my job, Doctor.”

This exchange is also the saving grace of The Silurians. Because the Brigadier stands up for himself; he stands up to the Doctor; he does his job; he makes no excuses.

That is not to say, Gary, that I don’t sympathize with the Doctor and say along with him, “But that’s murder” as the entrance to the Silurian caves are exploded. But what I can say is that the Doctor has to take his share of the blame. The Doctor did not show the same courtesy to the Undersecretary as he did to the Silurians.

“These creatures aren’t just animals," the Doctor explains, “they’re an alien life form as intelligent as we are.” However the “we” he prefers to dismiss as “big booted soldiers” and sabotages his own argument.

The Doctor, who so wanted to bring about peace, did not act as a true peace maker. He offered an olive branch to one side and the back of his hand to the other.

The Doctor fails in The Silurians because he loses sight of his objectivity.

For now, Gary, I will chalk this up to the imbalance of his recent regeneration and latent rage against the Time Lord’s punishment. Or perhaps he was just too distracted by the loss of his sonic screwdriver. I will reserve my judgment for future Pertwee storylines.

I don’t want to leave on this note, Gary. I did like Doctor Who and the Silurians, I really did. It had, per usual, a strong script and a strong cast.

I haven’t even said anything about the introduction of Bessie, the third Doctor’s antique car that he has throughout his Earthbound run, or the fact that he claims to have lived for “several thousand years.” But I guess you can chalk that claim up to the disorientation of a new generation, or to the second Doctor’s refrain: “Time is relative.”

No, Gary, I just can’t shake this bad feeling.

And so I say, along with the Brigadier:

“There are times, Doctor, when you sorely try my patience.”