Friday, September 28, 2012

Patrick Troughton


Dear Gary—
And now to pause briefly in my viewing of Doctor Who to say a word about Patrick Troughton as the Doctor.

In going back over my original rankings I see that I had placed him sixth as an afterthought. Now that I have watched all of his stories through, and having seen all of the reconstructed episodes for the first time, I am going to edge him up a bit to five. (This moves Matt Smith down to sixth, and after having rewatched his second season recently I have no trouble doing that.)
Patrick Troughton was the perfect choice to follow William Hartnell as the Doctor. Hartnell had so defined the character and inspired such immediate respect and confidence as the Doctor; Troughton had to step into those shoes to redefine the role while at the same time maintaining the character. He and the show’s creators handled this brilliantly in classic Doctor Who style. Questions abound as William Hartnell morphs into Patrick Troughton on the TARDIS floor; but only vague answers are offered up as the action takes off.

We the audience, along with companions Ben and Polly, have no choice but to accept this new Doctor.
But our acceptance doesn’t have the same immediate respect and confidence. We’re skeptical; we’re unsure; we’re dubious. The Doctor will be victorious in the end; we are sure of that; but how he gets to that point is rather ambiguous.

We ask along with Polly, “Doctor, you did know what you were doing  . . . didn’t you?”
This sense of fuzzy faith in Patrick Troughton’s Doctor is personified in Jamie. While Jamie places his life and trust completely in the Doctor’s hands, he is constantly questioning and continually skeptical. And Gary, I have to say that the result of this is that Patrick Troughton’s Doctor is more accessible than William Hartnell’s Doctor.

With Patrick Troughton we have fun.
With Patrick Troughton we can enjoy the ride and forget about those nagging questions.

And I did enjoy the ride, Gary. I just wish so many of the stories were not reconstructions. That definitely hinders the enjoyment and I can only imagine how much higher Troughton would rise in my rankings if all of his stories were restored to their original form.
There were so many strong scripts in the Troughton era; it’s hard for me to single any out.  Although two stories that I particularly enjoyed were not necessarily the strongest script wise—The Underwater Menace and The Dominators. It is also hard, given the number of reconstructions, to pick out a defining story for Troughton. If pressed I would have to go with The Tomb of the Cybermen.

Several Doctor Who staples were born during the Patrick Troughton era; let’s start with the sonic screwdriver. This first surfaced in Fury From the Deep and made several brief appearances in subsequent stories, including the The War Games where the Doctor uses it to demonstrate to one of the conditioned soldiers that he is no longer on Earth, although it is not yet the multifaceted implement it will become in later years. 
Next we have the use of John Smith as an alias for the Doctor. Jamie first gives him this name in The Wheel in Space, and the Doctor resurrects this pseudonym in The War Games.

And let’s not forget the Brigadier and UNIT.
Finally, and most significantly, we have the Time Lords. While Patrick Troughton was able to be off and running from the beginning with no questions answered, his departure and the introduction of a third Doctor begs for some sort of explanation. The War Games therefore supplies us with the Time Lords and their policy of non-interference.

This brings me to the evolution that started with Hartnell and is solidified with Troughton—the Doctor has become one who actively fights against evil and injustice. He is no longer motivated merely by curiosity or self preservation or a sense of adventure. He learns that the Daleks are around and says, “That’s why we have to stay.” Or of the Cybermen, “There are some corners of the universe which have bred the most terrible things; things which act against everything that we believe in. They must be fought.” However, he doesn’t rush in or assume evil:  “Which side is good; which side is bad; and why should I interfere?”
But interfere he does, and this gets him in hot water with the Time Lords and brings us to our next Doctor, John Pertwee.

And so, Gary, while I will miss the fun of the Troughton era, I look forward to a fresh Doctor and no more reconstructions; and I send this out with that forward vision and hope it echoes back . . .

Monday, September 24, 2012

The War Games


Dear Gary—
How can I begin this ending? The War Games is the ten part conclusion to the Patrick Troughton era. It marks the departure of both Jamie and Zoe. It is also the last Doctor Who serial in black and white. However, to borrow a line from William Hartnell’s Doctor, “It’s far from being all over.”

 “Lots of impossible things happen when you pass through time,” and The War Games is all about passing through time. Soldiers from various wars in Earth history have been transported out of their own times to simulated wars on an alien planet. The Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe have landed in the middle of this splintered battlefield and pass from one time zone to another, piecing together the dastardly plot and uniting rebel factions to overthrow their captors.
This puzzle of war torn time zones provides plenty of Doctor Who action over the course of our ten part story and a multitude of juicy roles for the sprawling cast. But it is the final piece that completes not only the picture of The War Games but the journey of Patrick Troughton as the Doctor; it bridges the gaps between Hartnell and Troughton and between Troughton and future incarnations. It provides revelations and beginnings and firsts in this story of closure.

“I was bored.”  Such was the genesis of it all. The Doctor was bored. He was bored with his “immensely civilized” planet and with his own race—for the first time revealed as Time Lords. “With a whole galaxy to explore; millions of planets; eons of time; countless civilizations to meet,” the Doctor wanted to go out and explore and meet. He did not want to just sit back and observe and gather knowledge. He was bored.
Boredom led him to a junkyard on Earth.

William Hartnell’s Doctor was still shaking off the shackles of the Time Lords as he strolled into that foggy London junkyard. He was bored. He was curious. He was on an adventure. But he was not yet completely free of the ‘civilized’ Time Lord mentality. It took Barbara and Ian to gradually knock the binding ties loose.
And so Patrick Troughton’s Doctor can now say, “We must stay here and see what is happening,” when his companions desire to leave this dangerous world behind.

 “It is a fact, Jamie, that I . . . I do tend to get involved in things.”
He stays. He finds out what is going on. He gets involved.

Or as Jamie says, “Whenever there’s any trouble, he’s in it right up to his neck.”
The Doctor finds plenty of trouble in The War Games. He first runs up against the military leaders of the various factions within the war zones. Each one is as sinister as you would expect from any good Doctor Who story. Yet as menacing as they are, these are merely henchmen.

The next layer of villainy is inspired. The War Chief and the Security Chief sit at the center of the puzzle, moving their players around by means of SIDRATs, modified TARDIS machines that have a remote control and dimensional flexibility (although these modifications have the unfortunate effect of shortening the lifespan of the machines). The War Chief is revealed to be a fellow Time Lord renegade. The Doctor has run up against one of his own kind before (the Meddling Monk), but this is the first time that their race is named. This in itself would make a sufficiently dastardly antagonist for the Doctor, but The War Games is more ambitious than that, for we also have the Security Chief.
The Security Chief is not a Time Lord but of some unnamed race of warmongers. The War Chief has come to this hawk-like race with his SIDRATs to aid them in their quest to build a super army. His aspiration is to ultimately take control and become the supreme power in the galaxy. The Security Chief suspects him, leading to further complexities within this fascinating tale.

But The War Games is still not done. The final layer in this wealth of villainy is the War Lord. I have to say, Gary, that I still can’t quite believe that this character is played by Philip Madoc, the same actor who ran around  in The Krotons looking so much like a Kewpie Doll and who would later go on to play the wild eyed Morbius in The Brain of Morbius. The War Lord is a truly sinister character. He brings to my mind the intellectual peasant turned Bolshevik Pasha/Strelnikov from Doctor Zhivago.  One look and you can just feel the cold, dead soul at the center of him.
This trio gives the Doctor more than enough trouble, but it isn’t anything he can’t handle. No, it is the problem of returning all of the displaced soldiers back to their own time and place that stumps him. His TARDIS, as Jamie is so fond of pointing out, is unreliable, and the SIDRATs are coming to the end of their power. This is a job for the Time Lords.

Not only are the Time Lords named in The War Games, but for the first time we are taken to the Doctor’s home planet (although still not identified as Gallifrey) where the Doctor is put on trial for his crime of breaking the Time Lord’s most important law—non-interference; a crime that the Doctor proudly admits.
“While you have been content merely to observe the evil in the galaxy, I have been fighting against it.”

The Time Lords deem the Doctor guilty, but with some justification. This leaves the Time Lords with something of a dilemma. They realize the Doctor has a role to play in fighting evil, but he must be punished. Their judgment: his companions are to be returned to their own time with no memory of their TARDIS adventures (although they are allowed the memory of their first meeting with the Doctor); his appearance is to change; he is to be exiled to Earth; his knowledge of the TARDIS is to be taken from him.
I’ll start with his companions, Jamie and Zoe. I’m glad that the Doctor seems to have gotten over his temporary resentment of Zoe that he displayed in The Space Pirates, and early in The War Games he has a sweet moment with her as he declares, “Oh what a nice and clever girl you are,” and gives her a fatherly kiss on the forehead. And I suppose it is better that both she and Jamie are returned with most of their Doctor memories wiped. It would have been too hard for them to carry on their lives back in their own times otherwise. At least they will always retain that first adventure. (I have gone on long enough, Gary, so I won’t get into how this parting differs from that of Donna which still makes me angry.)

Next his appearance. This marks the end of Patrick Troughton. He has come to the end of his run. We still do not get a name for the process, and it is still not clear exactly what this process is or even if it is normal to a Time Lord. The Doctor does state at one point that Time Lords can live forever “barring accidents” but he does not elaborate. When the Time Lords pass their judgment they say of this aspect of it that he has done it before, but again there is no elaboration. They then proceed to give the Doctor several options to choose from. (Now again, I have rambled on long enough, but I can’t let this pass. Some fans have complained bitterly about the nonchalant way in which Romana regenerates, but clearly the precedent has been set here at the end of the Troughton era.) As the Doctor dismisses each choice the impatient Time Lords declare they will decide for him.
Finally the last two pronouncements. He will be exiled to Earth (which seems to have a bad rap—the Warmongers had chosen humans for their experiments because Mankind is the most vicious of all in their eyes, and now the Time Lords choose Earth because it is the most vulnerable). And his use of the TARDIS will be taken from him.  This sets the stage for the future format of the show.

“You and I know—time is relative, isn’t it?” Time is relative. Past, present, and future. Passing through time. Hartnell, Troughton, and next Pertwee.
You and I know, Gary . . .

Friday, September 21, 2012

The Space Pirates


Dear Gary—
“A boy, a girl, and a nutcase.” Jamie, Zoe, and the Doctor. The Space Pirates doesn’t quite dismiss our trio as Milo Clancey does, but it comes close. We don’t even see our adventurers until half way through the first episode, and even then it is not for very long. The script gives most of the tension, action, and dialogue to the supporting cast, especially in the opening episode of this six part story.

When they are given screen time the Doctor and his companions make the most of it, except I can’t help noticing that the Doctor displays some mild antagonism towards Zoe. Of course it is hard to tell in a reconstruction when there are no visuals to go on, but I first noticed this subtle hostility in the one episode that is available for viewing when the three lie knocked out on the floor of the freshly exploded beacon. The Doctor awakens first, and even though he is positioned directly next to Zoe he ignores her completely and reaches across her to check on Jamie.
I found this curious but let it pass. Later, though, I couldn’t help but notice how dismissive and patronizing he was towards her when she claimed to have worked out where they could find the far flung TARDIS.  “Oh I see . . . you’ve been messing about again, have you?” Previously he has been impressed and proud of Zoe’s mathematical accomplishments. Now he condescends, “Surprise us,” when she attempts to present her findings.  Then, as he realizes that she really has worked it out he begrudgingly admits, “As you say, a simple calculation; I should have thought of that myself.”

Is the Doctor perhaps beginning to resent Zoe’s intelligence?
As I say, Gary, it is very mild and subtle and it is hard to go by the soundtrack alone. And without those first two instances I would have thought nothing of the Doctor saying to Zoe, “Don’t be such a pessimist,” or “I’ll be all right—if you don’t fuss me.” That would have meant nothing more than his saying to Jamie, “Sometimes I don’t think you appreciate all I do for you.”  So, Gary, I will put this down as just the Doctor having an off day and the soundtrack not providing the necessary nuances to distinguish between caring and indifference; respect and condescension.

Despite this seeming anomaly in the Doctor, The Space Pirates has a solid story played out by a stellar cast. Between the Space Corp hunting down pirates, the eccentric space cowboy Milo Clancey, the villainous Caven and his sidekick Dervish, and Madeleine Issigri with the ultimate in helmet hair, The Space Pirates delivers on an entertaining six part adventure.
But that’s not what I watch Doctor Who for. It helps, certainly, but not even a thin script, shoddy effects, and cheesy costumes can hurt the show if the Doctor shows up.

“Oh dear . . . well I don’t think we’re quite where I expected.” The Doctor never seems to land where he expects, and we expect that. That is the Doctor and that is Doctor Who. If he lands on a beacon in space that is being pirated away, or if he lands on a planet of ineffectual people who are being subjugated by an unconvincing monster, it is all good so long as the Doctor shows.
“There’s only one thing we can do . . . run.” Wherever he lands, the Doctor and his companions do a lot of running. We expect that too. But they also come to rest, and the Doctor gets to thinking.

“He’s got his mysterious face on,” Jamie says as the Doctor ponders. There’s no use asking him what is going on or what they are going to do. The Doctor will work it out. He will get his “mysterious face on” and he will come up with the answer. We expect that.
“Well, I’ve got a screwdriver and I’ve got a slight knowledge of electromagnetism.” That’s all the Doctor needs. Knowledge and the limited tools available to him. Whether confronting space pirates or aliens, the Doctor has a screwdriver and a plan. We expect that.

“Oh dear, what a silly idiot I am.” We don’t expect that. The Doctor is not an idiot and he is not as a rule humble. But he can admit when he has made a mistake, and he does make the occasional mistake. So in another sense, yes, we can expect that. But we also expect that he will overcome this mistake and all will be right in the end.
“Look here, my man, I will not be threatened in this bullying manner.” Again to be expected. The Doctor cannot stand bullies and will not put up with them.

All of these things—miscalculated landings, running, pausing to ponder, clever schemes, unforeseen missteps, standing up to intimidation—all of these things we expect from Doctor Who. And I have to say, Gary, that when I started this piece I did not expect to find them in The Space Pirates. Unexpectedly I did.
In the midst of the strong story, in the midst of the talented supporting cast, I unexpectedly found the Doctor Who.

That is what stands out for me. Not the Space Corp hot on the trail of pirates, not the woman torn apart with the agonizing realization that her greed has led her to the door of murderers and to the imprisonment and torture of her own father, not the Slim Pickens/Chill Wills space cowboy, not the pitiless pirate cruelly forcing his own allies to terrible deeds. That is a story. A good story, granted. An interesting, exciting, entertaining story, yes.
But it is the Doctor landing on a handful of drawing pins that happen to be in his pocket that stands out for me. It is the bag of marbles, the tuning fork, and the stethoscope that come out of the surprising depths of his pockets.

“Anything’s possible in the TARDIS; especially when he’s at the controls.”
Anything is possible in the TARDIS. For all of the expected, anything is possible. Especially when the Doctor is at the controls.

And so I leave, Gary, with the Doctor at the controls.
Anything is possible . . .

Monday, September 17, 2012

The Seeds of Death


Dear Gary—
The Seeds of Death is a case of the story almost getting in the way. There is so much going on; so many layers; so many depths of character; so many threats; so many interesting twists and turns. The Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe almost get lost in all of it. They spend much of their time explaining technical matters to Jamie, talking over procedures, discussing strategies, running through landings and takeoffs and equipment repairs, and as a result there is limited time left for character interactions. But in a six episode story they can always manage to slip enough in to keep the Doctor Who in the story.

“I’m afraid the TARDIS is not suited to short range travel,” the Doctor admits; and Jamie says of the TARDIS, “Well, we have our own system, thank you; only it isn’t fool proof.” However, in comparison to other modes of transportation Jamie cries, “This is worse than the TARDIS.”
Transportation. The way we get around. The way we move goods from one place to another. It is critical to the development and maintenance of a society. The Seeds of Death is a case study for the cultural importance of transportation, and a screaming warning against putting all your eggs in one T-Mat.

However, it seems that the peoples of future Earth never learn this lesson. T-Mat is so reliable, so effective, so efficient that there just isn’t any reason for cars or planes or boats or trains; not even for rockets. Don’t get me wrong, Gary. I would gladly throw away my car keys if I could teleport wherever I wanted to go. I’m all for it. But I think I’d at least keep a bike around, or some cab fare, or even a pair of roller skates just in case. Nothing is fool proof, not even the TARDIS.
Nor is it Ice Warrior proof.

And if I did put all my eggs in one T-Mat, I’d at least have a back-up site and not also put all my eggs in just one central T-Mat control, especially not one that is located on the moon, and especially not when the only way to get to the moon is via this T-Mat system.
Thankfully The Seeds of Death does not follow suit and put all its eggs in one plot point.

While the Earth suffers from a complete breakdown in the social order with the loss of its T-Mat system we have better things to entertain us. Such as Professor Eldred tinkering away with his obsolete rockets and resenting his former colleague Commander Radnor for having hitched his wagon to the T-Mat star, so much so that when he is turned to in this crisis to revive his lifelong dream of sending his rocket to the moon he initially refuses out of pique and reveals his hidden fears and doubts in his own ambitions.
And then there is Kelly, Commander Radnor’s assistant who quietly and efficiently runs the show and without whom T-Mat would be rendered useless. She, apparently, is the only person on Earth who understands the system and who can keep it running and who can fix it when it breaks. Talk about all your eggs.

Let’s not forget Fewsham up on the moon with the Ice Warriors. Initially Fewsham seems to be your typical Doctor Who coward who sides with the enemy to save his own neck. But Fewsham is a man of depths untold. Fewsham is everyman. Fewsham is any man. Any man; any ordinary man. Any man sitting at his terminal day after day; performing his job adequately and perfunctorily; not anything special; just a man; perhaps out of his depth. Fewsham happens to be working out his mundane routine up on the moon. Fewsham happens to be whiling away his humdrum day up on the moon when some Ice Warriors come smashing into his world and kill his defiant boss and coworker and turn on him next with an order to obey.
What would you do?

Fewsham’s face plays out his inner agony as he complies with the Ice Warrior demands.
Phipps, the remaining technician on the moon, runs away. Flight or fight? Osgood and Locke fought and are dead. Phipps has fled. Fewsham, alone, remains caught in the Ice Warrior headlights.

What would you do?
What would the Doctor do?

 The Doctor, when confronted by the Ice Warriors, begs for his life. “Your leader will be angry if you kill me,” he exclaims, “I’m a genius.” The Doctor, like Fewsham, defers to the Ice Warriors. The Doctor, unlike Fewsham, secretly sabotages the Ice Warrior equipment while appearing to aid them. The Doctor, unlike Fewsham, is a genius.
Fewsham isn’t even sure he can fix the equipment that the Ice Warriors are demanding he tend to, but he bluffs his way through and manages to do enough to get Kelly transported to the moon so she can deal with it. And that is what Fewsham does. Bluffs his way through; stalls for time; tormenting over each choice he makes.

Eventually Fewsham’s torturous journey leads him to redemption. Knowing he will face certain vilification and probable execution on Earth, he remains behind after sending the others safely home and faces the alien threat. Taking a page from the Doctor, he plays up to the Ice Warriors, learning their plans and getting the message back to Earth. He may not be a genius, he may not know how to sabotage the equipment, but he knows enough to surreptitiously flip a switch to transmit a conversation. He has bluffed and stalled just long enough to come nobly through in the end.
But the end of Fewsham is not the end of our story by any means.

I haven’t even begun to discuss the seeds of death of our title. The seeds (more like balloons) multiply when they open (or pop) and spread, sucking the oxygen out of the air as they do so. The Ice Warriors have sent these seeds (or balloons) to Earth using the T-Mat system and have a fleet in readiness to invade once the oxygen levels of the Earth have been sufficiently depleted. As they multiply these seeds (balloons) also spread massive amounts of foam (obviously left over from The Fury From the Deep), all of which leads to some great fun as the Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe go slip sliding away in it.
And in the end we have a typical Doctor Who ridiculously simple means of defeating an enemy. Just turn up the heat on the Ice Warriors and send down some rain on the seeds (balloons). A neat little trick of a duplicitous homing device doesn’t hurt, either, in deflecting the alien fleet off of its flight path and into the sun’s orbit.

I’ve rambled on again, Gary, and should really wrap things up without even mentioning the folly of Mother Earth trying to control the weather yet again; or some of the great camera shots through grates and grilles and with the use of mirrors; or the wonderful gradation in Ice Warrior costumes between the ordinary Warriors, the Ice Lords, and the Grand Marshall; or the fact that the peoples of future Earth run around with their underwear on the ouside of their trousers; or the appearance of the earlier Doctor’s Astral Map in the background as one of Professor Eldred’s space museum exhibits; or the assertion that Zoe has total recall; or the great comic bits the Doctor does as he runs down corridors or dives in foam or serendipitously discovers the effectiveness of water against the seeds (balloons) of death.
No, I should wrap things up without mentioning any of these things and so much more.

“Well, you know—questions, explanations—it’s very difficult.” With that the Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe are off, but to where they don’t know.
“It’s no good asking him; he has no more idea than the man on the moon.”

They don’t have a T-Mat system; they have the TARDIS. And as we know, “it isn’t fool proof.”
And with that, Gary . . . well . . . you know . . . questions, explanations . . . .

Friday, September 14, 2012

The Krotons


Dear Gary—
The Krotons begins something like The Lottery or Logan’s Run, with a ‘lucky’ few chosen for a great honor, only to find that this ‘honor’ is death.  It gives the impression of a rather stock story with a sort of generic alien populace and someone’s backyard idea of a monster. But you land the TARDIS, the Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe in the midst of this 60’s sci-fi script-in-the-making and you have yourself a Doctor Who story that can stand the test of time despite itself.

I want to say, Gary, that this is the epitome of the classic Doctor Who formulaic story that I think of when I think of Doctor Who. The Krotons is Doctor Who in a nutshell.
Take a stock script. Take a generically alien population of ineffectual, timid beings who have submitted themselves unquestioningly to a vaguely threatening authority. Take a sufficiently quarry-like, arid, rocky location. Take a cheaply made set chock full of modish gadgets and ambiguous scientific equipment. Take a monster that could only frighten a six-year-old child. Add a half dozen extras who can mill about convincingly. Throw in some solid actors who can take a nothing role ‘and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile’ (thank you Paul Williams). Now land the TARDIS, the Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe in the middle of it all.

Nothing more needs to be said.
But of course I will say more, Gary.

Because the TARDIS, the Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe are in the middle of it all.
That’s what counts.

That’s what makes The Krotons count.
That’s why we can watch The Krotons and not shunt this off into the 60’s schlock sci-fi black hole of mediocre Bdom.

Not to say, Gary, that there is anything wrong with that black hole of 60’s schlock sci-fi mediocre Bdom. I rather like that black hole. Round about this time, as the year wanes and the leaves start to fall, I love to dive into that swirling black hole and see what I come up with.
But there are always some that bubble to the top, and some that rise above and escape.

The Krotons is such a one. The Krotons has won the lottery. The Krotons is one of the lucky ones that has been chosen. Thankfully, though, it is not death that it has won. Thankfully the TARDIS, the Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe have arrived in the nick of time.
“Where are we?” Zoe enquires.

“You don’t expect him to know, do you?”  Jamie responds.
And we are off and running.

The Doctor and Jamie have established an easy-going, comic relationship to rival Abbott and Costello, Hope and Crosby, or Laurel and Hardy. The Krotons, however, begins to develop the dynamic of the Doctor and Zoe as a team.
“Zoe is something of a genius,” the Doctor states of his companion. “Of course it can be very irritating at times,” he continues.

Zoe, for her part, says, “The Doctor is almost as clever as I am.”
The two of them are quite a match for the Krotons of our story. The Krotons can transform mental power into energy, and between the Doctor and Zoe the Krotons have found more than enough mental power. And I mean more than enough—the Krotons get more than they bargained for. The Doctor and Zoe together can outwit the Krotons while at the same time putting on a witless show to rival those comedy teams of old.

“Zoe,” says the Doctor, “I think we’ve gone and done it.”
Done it they have.

But let’s not forget Jamie. Zoe is usually the odd man out; in The Krotons it is Jamie who is running after the Doctor and Zoe, finding himself always on the other side of the wall. He might not be a ‘High Brain’ like his companions, but he has the down to earth common sense, instinct, brashness, and brawn to rival any Kroton any day.
And the TARDIS has its own part to play. It too can foil the Krotons through its HADS system of defense—Hostile Action Displacement System. When the TARDIS is attacked, we learn, it can auto-dematerialize.

I can’t leave this story, Gary, without mentioning the Gonds. These are our ineffectual, timid beings who have placed themselves under voluntary enslavement to the Krotons. These are the Logans who refuse to run. These are our stock extras with a few solid actors thrown in. We have the glam-gal who is rescued from the Kroton lottery (although it leaves her mindless for most of the story), and her boyfriend Logan wannabe. Then there is the Kewpie Doll look-alike Eelek who vacillates between submission and rebellion, always at the wrong times, just to provide the right amount of resistance to the Doctor and to propel the plot along.
“We’ll have to find our own answers now” the Gonds say as the Doctor heads off for further adventures and they are left behind without their Kroton masters to tell them what to do and what to think.

The Gonds are left to find their own answers. THAT, Gary, is Doctor Who. The Doctor arrives; he frees; he leaves. The Gonds are left to find their own answers.
And so I leave, Gary, but I don’t know if I can find any answers. I’ll leave that to the Doctor and his time swirl . . .

Monday, September 10, 2012

The Invasion


Dear Gary—
The Invasion would be long and boring if it weren’t so darned entertaining. This is another alien invasion of Earth with the Doctor aiding the military operation to stop it, rather reminiscent of The War Machines from Hartnell’s era. It is long at eight episodes (with two of the eight being reconstructed) and has lots of running around in cavernous factory compounds, sewers, and railway lines. It has the return of the Doctor’s old familiar enemy the Cybermen and the obligatory delusional human conspiring with the Cybermen in the false belief that he can control them.

Amidst this rather grim and plodding story, though, is an unexpected fun factor that only Doctor Who can provide.
I think I’ll start with the dynamic duo of Vaughn and Packer. Vaughn is the human villain of the piece, played brilliantly by Kevin Stoney who had taken an earlier turn at Doctor Who as the marvelously malevolent Mavic Chen in The Dalek’s Master Plan. In The Invasion as Vaughn he oozes evil that is blunted with an edge of inevitable futility; a futility that is personified by his sidekick Packer, whose incompetent cruelty is captured magnificently by Peter Halliday (who rather reminds me of Carl Reiner). These two are so desperate to gain power (Vaughn) and to cause harm (Packer), that their inexorable failures are laughable and a little touching.

This pair doesn’t have quite the same comic overtones as Rago and Toba did in The Dominators, neither is the comedy unintended, nor does it rise to camp. No, the humor of Vaughn and Packer is grounded in reality, a rather sad clown reality that is both hilarious and poignant.
"Yes, Packer,” Vaughn confirms, “our dear Doctor has outwitted you . . . oh then that wouldn’t be too difficult, would it?”  

No, Packer doesn’t have the brains to match the Doctor, but he never gives up. Despite continual defeats he still gets that crazed look in his eye as he contemplates new methods of brutality, and his frustration and disheveled appearance only grows with each newly thwarted attempt. But he keeps springing back up with fresh vigor. He is so earnest in his viciousness.
While Packer rushes about Vaughn remains calm. “Oh Packer,” he sighs, “you disappoint me.” Except then the calm breaks and Vaughn bursts forth with all the pent up anger in hysterical tirades. “You’re a stupid incompetent” he finally sputters as he begins to realize that his plans are falling apart. His frenzied diatribes are all the more effective for the oily charm and controlled confidence he exuded previously.

“My body may be cybernetic,” Vaughn states at one point, “but my mind stays human.” That is the key to Vaughn. His body is staid; calm; unemotional. But his mind churns with the constant irritations that finally come spewing forth in his harangues.
Vaughn and Packer are not the only bright spots in this story, though. The Invasion marks the return of Nicholas Courtney as Lethbridge-Stewart: “Brigadier now; I’ve gone up in the world.” And for the first time he reveals his connection to UNIT, an intelligence gathering taskforce for the United Nations. Corporal Benton makes his first appearance in this story as well, and there is another rather charming UNIT member by the name of Captain Turner who seems to have a thing for Isobel.

This brings us to Isobel. I understand the character was originally intended as a possible new companion for the Doctor which explains her prominence in the story. She never did make it into the TARDIS, but I’m glad she made it into the story. At eight episodes long, this story has plenty of room for multiple characters to shine. An independent woman of the 60’s, Isobel wields a camera and an attitude with a flourish. She is not just there to look pretty and scream.
Isobel and Zoe team up to start, providing a nice female camaraderie that is usually absent from the show. Tiring of the girl bonding fashion shoot, the two go off in search of the Doctor and Jamie and run up against Vaughn and Packer. Despite getting captured and carted off for an episode, the two don’t wilt under the threats of our villains but remain defiant. After they are rescued Isobel continues to contribute to the tale. Determined to get proof of the Cybermen invasion for the Brigadier, she and Zoe grab a camera and drag Jamie after them down into the sewers.

It’s not just the action that Isobel contributes to, though. Her character is given dimensions that would not be necessary for the plot, but provide layers of interest that enrich the show. I especially like the small detail of her never using paper to write things down on (paper can so easily get lost), but rather she uses her wall to scribble her notes. And when Turner asks her to dinner and she turns to him with an ingenuous, “Hey, are you stinking rich?” you just have to love this candid, breezy, plucky, brave personality that has been created.
Not to overlook Zoe, which I admit, Gary, I have done since her introduction to the show. The Invasion is a great showcase for Zoe. We get a new side to her as she sports a feather boa and mini skirt during her fashion shoot with Isobel, but we also get the brainy, brave side of her as well. When confronted with a computerized receptionist that refuses access and information, Zoe states, “I will not be beaten by this brainless tin box,” and proceeds to sabotage it with an insoluble problem. (Unlike the Doctor who simply decides to bypass the 'tin box': "I hate computers and refuse to be bullied by them.") Later she takes just 30 seconds to calculate a formula to destroy all of the Cybermen ships headed to Earth with the few missiles they have on hand. “Can’t we keep her on, Sir; she’s much prettier than a computer,” one of the men says as they celebrate the annihilation of the Cyber fleet.

And I still haven’t even mentioned the Doctor and Jamie. They always delight with their easy-going rapport, and in The Invasion they have lots of opportunities to entertain. As Zoe says, “If there’s trouble to be found, The Doctor and Jamie can’t miss it.” The Doctor and Jamie find plenty of trouble, and spend a good deal of time running and chasing, jumping guards, rescuing, and climbing ladders, all with their characteristic flair. Of course we also have Jamie’s requisite dig at the TARDIS: “What’s the matter with the TARDIS, Doctor; it keeps going wrong all the time.” And we have the Doctor having to explain things to the befuddled Jamie: "I’ve told you over and over again, Jamie, time is relative.”  Jamie’s delight over and the Doctor’s disgust with the transistor radio that Vaughn has given Jamie results in some classic comedy bits as well.
I’ve rather run on again, Gary. It was a long story and multi-layered, despite the rather mundane nature of the plot itself.

I’ll leave with a bit courtesy of the Brigadier: “You still making a nonsense of it, Doctor, in your—what was it called—TARDIS?”
Yes, I’ll leave with that, Gary, still making nonsense of it . . .

Friday, September 7, 2012

The Mind Robber


Dear Gary—
“Don’t worry, Jamie, we’re safe in the TARDIS.”

“Are you sure?”
“Well . . .”

“I mean, has the TARDIS ever been buried up to its neck in lava before?”
“Well, no.”

“Well, how can you be so sure we’re going to be all right?”
Well . . . that’s the gist of the Doctor’s and Jamie’s relationship. The Doctor is always sure, even when he isn’t really, and Jamie is always skeptical, even when he has every confidence the Doctor will make things right in the end.

To escape the lava the Doctor uses the TARDIS emergency unit, something he is hesitant to do as it will take them out of the time and space dimension—out of reality.
“Fine, reality’s getting too hot anyway,” says Jamie.

But when they exit reality, well . . . they are “nowhere; it’s as simple as that.” And it is this, the unknown, which worries the Doctor.
He has used the emergency unit to appease Jamie, but now he is worried. “We’re on our way alright,” he says, but “trouble is I don’t know where to.”

That doesn’t worry Jamie. It was the known threat of lava bearing down on the TARDIS he was worried about. “Well, that’s not unusual,” he says of the unknown factor. But “where in time and space am I,” the Doctor frets.
Where they are, it turns out, is a world of fiction, of words, “a place where nothing is impossible.” A unicorn rushes them, a Minotaur menaces them, a Medusa rivets them. All they need do, however, is declare that the threat doesn’t exist and it vanishes. Seems easy. But no.  Nothing is easy. Jamie and Zoe find it hard to refute the evidence of their eyes. And the Doctor finds it hard to refute a character he has never heard of before. Confronted with Karkus, a comic strip hero of Zoe’s era, the Doctor says he never heard of him and therefore can’t state with conviction that he is fictional. Luckily for the Doctor Zoe knows martial arts and can defeat Karkus, (rather too easily for a super hero, but oh well . . .).

It is amusing, this world of words that our trio has “tumbled into.” From Gulliver who wanders in and out of scenes spouting nothing but lines written for him, to Rapunzel who lets down her hair for all and sundry to climb despite the disappointment that none are princes, all entertain. And when the Doctor accidentally reassembles Jamie’s face for an episode and a half (to accommodate the absence of the actor Frazer Hines who was out with the chicken pox) you have to laugh.
But it is deadly as well. If they can’t disbelieve them out of existence and they can’t physically defeat them or outsmart them, these fictional threats become very real. And when you add white robots into the mix—are they real or are they not?

And when they themselves are in danger of becoming fictionalized it is time for the Doctor to take some serious action. “When somebody writes about an incident after it’s happened,” he says, “that’s history. But when the writing comes first—that’s fiction.” Therefore when the Master (not the Time Lord Master of later stories) writes Zoe and Jamie into a book and manipulates the Doctor into the machinery of the place to take over as head writer, well, things look pretty grim for our adventurers.
Not to worry. The Doctor can write up some heroes to counter the Master’s foes, and he can write Jamie and Zoe some effective escape techniques so that they can do some creative writing of their own.

It all gets rather jumbled at the end, however. This wonderful fictional world that they “tumbled into” doesn’t quite get the literary justice it deserves. The story devolves into a plot to take over the Earth which doesn’t make any clear sense. Somehow the creative brain power of Man acts as “a power house—a life line as you might say,” for the Master Brain behind this whole scheme. And somehow this power will transfer all the peoples of Earth to this world of fiction leaving the Earth uninhabited and ripe for takeover, but for what purpose and by who is undefined.
In the midst of all the fiction, though, it is nice to see a little bonding between the Doctor and Zoe. Zoe has the education and book smarts that Jamie lacks. “What it is to have an arithmetical brain, eh?” the Doctor says admiringly as Zoe works out the problem of the maze they are caught in. She does her share of screaming, but Zoe adds an intellectual element to the trio that complements the Doctor.

It is this element of reality, this essence of companionship, which grounds our trio and helps them defeat the Master Brain.  The Doctor might worry about the unknown, reality might be too hot for Jamie, but together, and with the addition of the arithmetically minded Zoe, we are sure they will come out right in the end.
And so, Gary, I leave as abruptly as this story ends . . .

Monday, September 3, 2012

The Dominators


Dear Gary—
I’m so glad The Dominators is not a recon. You have to have the visual on this one just to watch the Navigator and his underling bicker throughout. The facial expressions on these stoic, grim faced, almost straight jacketed Dominators as the frustration mounts is too good to miss, and I can almost hear ‘One of these days . . .’ as the two become increasingly exasperated with one another. However it is the Doctor who ultimately carries through and gives them the ‘Bang! Zoom! Straight to the moon.’

Apparently the Quark robots of this episode were created for their merchandising potential, but I think the Dominators themselves should have been given their own sitcom.
“Command accepted,” Probationer Toba  says through gritted teeth to Navigator Rago time and time again, and time and time again he deviates from the orders (no Dalek he) and wastes precious Quark energy on foolish things like killing and hunting down humans when they should be drilling holes in the planet surface. Time and time again Navigator Rago takes Toba to task for disobedience.

“A Dominator must be obeyed without question,” Rago tells the indolent inhabitants of Dulkis, yet his own subordinate continually questions and defies him. Comic strip lines of frustration seem to emanate from his head each time he returns to find Toba flouting his orders.
The Dulcians themselves provide their own comedy routine. “Better do nothing than do the wrong thing,” is their philosophy, which rather makes a joke out of their Council debate when faced with an alien threat. They have three choices: fight, submit, or flee. They can’t make up their minds to any of them so they just sit back and wait.

This do nothing philosophy also makes a joke of their education. When the Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe first meet Educator Balan he trots out his star pupil Kando to recount the history of the dead island of the planet on which they have landed. She almost stands at attention as she recites the memorized words, getting prompts from Balan as she stumbles in her rote.  She finishes with a proud smile, and she obviously had no clue what any of it really meant.
“We are taught to accept fact, being foolish to contemplate fantasy in the face of reality,” she tells our travelers when told they are not from Dulkis. “You are here; this is fact. That you come from another planet I accept because I have no other means of proving it.” And her teacher reiterates, “It seems pointless to spend time searching for reasons to prove facts; a fact is a truth.”

Not very enquiring, these peace loving, do nothing Dulcians. “We have proved that universal gentleness will cause aggression to die.” They have also proved that it causes intelligence, creativity, imagination, and originality to die as well. I can very well see how this pacifist planet was intended as a satirical commentary on the hippie movement.
Cully is the lone stand out: “Vegetables, the lot of you; you don’t live you exist.” However it’s hard to accept him as the rugged individualist he portrays when he is running around looking like Benny Hill clothed in some weird Roman like dress and sandals.

And so we have the Dulcians, eager to lend a helping hand if asked, and the Dominators who never ask for assistance: “What we need we take.” Add the Doctor and his companions to this as a wild card and you have quite a delightful story.
What the Dominators want is to blow up the planet, converting it into an energy supply to replenish their own depleted resources. And if there are any able bodied humans around they will be taken back as slaves. One meeting with the Dulcian Council, however, and Navigator Rago determines that none are even worthy of that.

Two qualities are required of a Dominator, Rago states: “intelligence and detachment.” On the one hand, the potential Dulcian slaves struggle with intelligence. On the other, his own Probationer struggles with detachment. He is surrounded by idiots; one of these days . . . .
The Doctor plays with this theme of intelligence.  “An unintelligent enemy is far less dangerous than an intelligent one, Jamie,” he explains to his companion after failing a simple test the Dominators had set before him. “Just act stupid,” he advises Jamie, and then adds parenthetically, “do you think you can manage that?” Later he exclaims to Jamie, “It’s so simple only you could have thought of it.”

The Doctor and Jamie have this kind of easy, amusing rapport that brightens all of these Troughton stories.
Jamie: “You can’t just take things to pieces—not when we’re flying at heaven knows what speed.”

Doctor: “I think I’ve got it!”
Jamie: “You think; you mean you’re not sure?”

But for all of the banter between the Doctor and Jamie there is some real, heartfelt camaraderie. Theirs is a gentle humor, unlike the Rago and Toba show.
An interesting side note here, Gary. The Dominators run a body scan on Jamie and determine that he is inferior for having only one heart. They assume the Doctor is of the same make up and don’t bother to scan him. Later they scan a Dulcian and find two hearts. A tantalizing hint.

We also get a second appearance of the sonic screwdriver in The Dominators, and we learn that it is “a little more than a screwdriver,” as the Doctor uses it to burn a hole through the wall.
And in the end the Doctor dominates the Dominators, using the Dominator’s nuclear fission seed against them, sending them ‘Bang! Zoom! Straight to the moon.’

I was sorry to see the end of the bickering duo, but the Doctor and Jamie (and let’s not forget Zoe) continue on, as do I, Gary . . .