Planet of the Spiders

Dear Gary—

“Never mind the dratted coffee; what about the spiders?”

Planet of the Spiders is yet another Doctor Who example of everyone involved taking the production so seriously that the ridiculousness of it all does not overwhelm. This has always been one of the strongest points of Doctor Who. No matter how cheap the production; no matter how cheesy the costumes, the props, the sets; everything is acted as though it is all real. The actors believe; the audience believes.

Planet of the Spiders almost makes me want to revisit The Web Planet. Maybe I can finally overcome the cheesiness of that story too.  But as I remember, The Web Planet didn’t have strong enough acting or storyline to carry it. What The Web Planet does have, though, is affection for character which I don’t quite have to the same degree with this third Doctor. And I should not have thought of that, Gary, because it takes Planet of the Spiders down a notch in my thinking; the acting and story, although a step above The Web Planet, is not quite up to many a Doctor Who serial.

But back to the spiders. The spiders, I feel, actually elevate this story. Yes they are rather weak in terms of monsters. I mean, just step on the thing and be done with it. And yet they speak with such confidence and authority with their thin and gangly voices. And the infighting and intrigue—oh what a tangled web. I find myself fascinated by this glimpse of political spider machinations.

Spider, spider, burning bright.

I find the human plotters, however, to be far less effective. This nerdy group of middle aged accountant and salesman types sitting cross legged on a cellar floor chanting “Ohm” over and over lacks a certain fearful symmetry.

Lupton is the only member of this nerd pack who has any sense of purpose, and even that is rather sketchy. Like most Doctor Who monster collaborators, Lupton is after power. I’m not sure, though, how he figures on getting this power, or how he has convinced his cohorts to go along with him on his rather vague and incoherent plans.

The humans on Metebelis Three are equally unimpressive. These descendants of a crashed spaceship live in a primitive state; obviously their ancestors taught them nothing of their technology or gave them the common sense to realize that if the blue crystals on the planet could develop super spiders it could do the same for humans.

Planet of the Spiders, however, is less about the story and more about the third Doctor. This is Jon Pertwee’s final serial and Planet of the Spiders provides a nice wrap up. The sense of curiosity and wonder of the first and second Doctors has grown to a self confessed “greed for knowledge; for information;” and that greed has caught up with him.

To begin, the Doctor’s insistence on experimenting with a reluctant clairvoyant results in the death of this psychic. Early in Pertwee’s run as the Doctor he was similarly responsible for the death of Barnham in The Mind of Evil. At that time he became defensive; now he takes responsibility for his actions.

The events in Planet of the Spiders are all triggered by the Doctor’s action of stealing the blue crystal from Metebelis Three back in The Green Death. Jo has returned the crystal to the Doctor, having been warned of its evil aura. (I can’t help wondering, Gary, how different the spiders’ reception might have been in the depths of the Amazon forests.) Now the spiders of Metebelis Three have come to Earth through the channel of the chanting accountants in search of this crystal.

After some extended chase sequences in various modes of transportation (“Yes, of course we’re flying”), the Doctor revisits Metebelis Three (“the TARDIS may be a little erratic” at times, but the Doctor has wired Metebelis Three coordinates into the programmer).

“I had to face my fear,” the Doctor explains. Back in The Mind of Evil his greatest fears were revealed to be fire and past monsters. It has never been hinted that the Doctor has arachnophobia; I’m not sure what fear he was confronting; perhaps it was his own mortality.

Although mortality, much like time, for a Time Lord is relative. For the first time we get the term ‘regeneration’ used to describe the Doctor’s metamorphosis. “When a Time Lord’s body wears out he regenerates; becomes new.”

The Doctor is not the only one to regenerate in this story; in another nod to the past, the Doctor’s old hermit mentor from Gallifrey (first referenced in The Time Monster), makes an appearance in the form of K’anpo, Abbot of the Tibetan monastery that is home to the chanting accountants.

“The recognition of friends is not always easy,” K’anpo tells the Doctor as he reveals himself. And in another Time Lord revelation, he explains that the monk Cho-Je is in reality a projection of his future self; when K’anpo’s body dies, he does regenerate as Cho-Je. (This forward projection of a Time Lord’s soul will be utilized in the fourth Doctor’s regeneration.)

Speaking of old friends, Mike Yates redeems himself in this story after his acts of betrayal back in Invasion of the Dinosaurs. And there are a couple name droppings by the Doctor (“Next to Mrs. Samuel Pepys you make the finest cup of coffee;” and “Harry, err, what was his name? . . . Houdini!”). We have the letter from Jo, and of course the old standbys Benton, Sarah Jane, and the Brigadier. And let’s not forget the TARDIS (“I always leave the actual landing to the TARDIS herself; she’s no fool you know.”).

The Doctor has faced his demons and now he is amongst friends. “I got lost in the Time Vortex; the TARDIS brought me home.” Home. Amongst friends.

Jon Pertwee fades away and Tom Baker takes his place.

“Well, here we go again.”

Yes, here we go, Gary . . .