The Creature From the Pit

Dear Gary—

The Creature From the Pit is one of those Doctor Who blends of good and bad, so much so that I can’t quite determine if I like it or not. I think overall I probably do like it, even though the bad tends to outweigh the good.

The first thing that I think most everyone can agree on—the creature is one of the worst (if not the worst) monsters in all of Doctor Who. It is not just that it is horribly realized, it is that the conception is almost impossible to realize.  The effects people probably didn’t come up with the best they could, but I challenge anyone, given the budget and concept, to outdo them. An elect few maybe could, and perhaps with more advanced techniques not yet available or perfected in the ‘70’s, but not by much.

For starters the creature is conceptualized as huge. Now we have seen similar dubious results with enormous monsters in serials like The Power of Kroll and Invasion of the Dinosaurs. But at least Kroll and the invading dinosaurs could be laughed at from a distance and be vaguely convincing. The creature of our title is up close and personal. The creature of our title is in a claustrophobic pit. The creature of our title is ultimately supposed to be sympathetic, reasoned, and personable. A giant, amorphous blob (with or without phallic parts) just doesn’t work towards this end.

Next, and for me more importantly, Lalla Ward is simply dreadful. The last two stories, Destiny of the Daleks and City of Death, Lalla had settled into a comfortable persona as Romana Mark II. In The Creature From the Pit, however, she is horrifyingly bad. Worse than the creature. Because she is supposed to be good. She is the Doctor’s companion. She doesn’t have to be exceptional; she just needs to be fundamentally sound; even adequate will do. As much as I hate the later companion Peri, at least I wouldn’t say of her that she is a bad actress. Whiny and annoying, yes, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say that there is a deep-rooted core of ugly unpleasantness about her.

I hate to dump too much on poor Lalla for just this one serial, Gary. As I said, in the previous two she made her slightly supercilious tone work for the character. In The Creature From the Pit, however, it falls completely apart. Just look at her scene with the Fagin-like scavenger and his gang of thieves. Captured and bound, she puts on an air of such supreme self-importance with absolutely no moral center to back her up. She has an obvious disdain for this “collection of hairy, grubby little men” (“Well, she’s no call to get personal”), and she is able to cow them simply because they are weak minded. She is like a shark going in for the kill; no, not a shark, more like a hyena. Because when confronted with a more forceful presence, for example the Lady Adrasta, she herself is cowed. She displays none of the righteous indignation or moral integrity that Leela, Sarah Jane, or Romana I would have shown under similar circumstances. She has not the courage of her convictions; I’m not even sure she has convictions.

Next in the bad column is K9. K9 has been sidelined for a couple serials and he now emerges with an altered voice and somewhat altered personality. K9 always had the subtlest of inflections to depict the emotion that he adamantly denied, but this new incarnation is overt in his moods. K9 rhapsodically reading Peter Rabbit is just plain silly. Amusing but silly.

Then there is the script. This serial is only four episodes in length, but it barely has enough material in it for three. Much of the blame can be placed on the creature “oozing about and sitting on people; not much of a life, is it?” No, and not much of a plot, either. A giant blob “skulking about in a pit eating people” that is unable to communicate its intentions doesn’t provide much potential for action. If it were rampaging about the countryside terrorizing people that would be one thing, but no, it is confined to a pit. The action has to come looking for it. Or the plot has to go looking for the action outside of the main arena. Thus the raggle taggle group of “hirsute” men.

I have nothing in particular against this mob, except that for the better part of our story they are totally disconnected from it. They are convenient for introducing the concept of metal hording, but we are left in the dark for a long time as to the importance of this. Especially since these dim-wits can think of nothing better to do with their stockpile other than to paw it lecherously. For all we know the only purpose of metal on this planet is to look pretty. No, this rabble serves merely as a distraction.

The final element tipping the scales to the bad side: the Doctor. In particular, “Everest in Easy Stages.” The Doctor, hanging precariously on the side of the pit, equipped with a hammer and some spikes, decides he needs to peruse a book on how to climb? And then: “It’s in Tibetan!” Now I’m pretty sure the Doctor already knows Tibetan, at least enough to get by. Just as I’m sure he knows enough to hammer some spikes into a wall to use as stepping stones. So why the books? There is no one else about to be disarmed by this, so for whom is he performing? It can only be for the camera. Shame on you, Doctor. It is an amusing gag, yes. Highly amusing. Extremely funny in fact. But shame on you, Doctor.

Now for the scale tipping on the side of good: the Doctor. In a story of non-action, in a story of elongated scenes of distraction, in a story with a non-menacing creature, the Doctor takes the only tack appropriate to the occasion: curiosity. He does not gleefully sic K9 on people only to wring his hands in despair when he fails ala Romana; he grabs a rope and jumps down into the pit (what a great cliffhanger, by the way).

Despite not being able to communicate with the creature, the Doctor manages to calm it and gain its trust. With nothing but his observations and common sense he is able to deduce the history of the creature. And with no more than a few brief monologues and a stray “Chlorophyll? I wonder?” or two we start to piece the puzzle together with the Doctor. No drawn out distractions of metal worship are needed; the Doctor simply needs to pick up and muse on a few nuggets of iron. The Doctor jumps into the pit and gets to the bottom of things.

While in the pit the Doctor meets up with another in our plus column, Organon. Organon, the astrologer in disfavor who has been thrown into the pit and survived and who befriends the Doctor. Organon is an important element of the story because, monologues aside, the Doctor needs someone he can interact with other than taciturn blobs. And Organon, with his star-reading mumbo jumbo act, is just the right touch our story needs.

Joining Organon in our scale tipping is Karela, although she doesn’t provide quite as much weight. It’s not her fault but the script’s. Karela, right hand woman to Adrasta. We don’t see enough of her and we don’t get enough “If I say you’re made of tin, you horrible little animal, you’re made of tin” out of her. But she makes the most of what she is given.

And now the final and overwhelming counterbalance: the Lady Adrasta. The Creature From the Pit works solely on the basis of the Lady Adrasta. The Lady Adrasta—Lady MacBeth, Cruella de Vil, the Evil Queen of Snow White—by any name she is larger than life and twice as fascinating.

“Point the dog against the rock!”

The Lady Adrasta is melodrama at its pinnacle, and she elevates our pit to those soaring heights.

Unfortunately for us she is killed off at the beginning of the fourth act and we have to sit through the hastily tacked on conclusion that takes us out of the pit but fails to elevate us.

Overall, however, I have to say that The Creature From the Pit works. Because we are in the realm of melodrama the miserable monster is tolerable and the distractions forgivable. And with the exception of Everest, some of the more glib remarks by the Doctor can be taken for the jokes they are meant. (“Time Lords have 90 lives.” “How many have you got through, then?” “About 130.”; “What sign were you born under?” “Crossed computers.” “Crossed what?” “Computers. It’s the symbol of the maternity service on Gallifrey.”)

And there you have it, Gary.

“We call it . . . the Pit.”

“Ah, you have such a way with words.”