The Power of Kroll

Dear Gary—

The Power of Kroll is obviously the weakest link in the Key to Time season; and yet I have always liked it. I’m not sure why. The acting is sub-par for Doctor Who; the costumes, make-up, and effects are laughable even for Doctor Who; the characters are rather one-dimensional; the action can be plodding. And yet I have always liked it and like it still.

Maybe it is the wince-inducing green natives pathetically chanting “Kroll, Kroll, Kroll” while the maiden (Romana) is menaced unconvincingly by a rubber suited monster. This scene is everything that is wrong about The Power of Kroll, yet it is somehow endearing and hypnotic.

“Well, he probably looked more convincing from the front.”

That says it all about The Power of Kroll. This is Doctor Who as viewed behind the scenes with all its seams showing. It is Doctor Who inside out. And that is rather refreshing and fun.

One dead on aspect of the serial is the marshy locale. From the moment the TARDIS materializes in the tall grasses and the Doctor and Romana emerge to trudge through the swampy terrain I think, aah—that’s a perfect spot for a Doctor Who story. Then the tall, nearly naked green men show up and I think, aha—some neighborhood gang of friends thought so too and are playing at Doctor Who. The Doctor and Romana have happened upon this backyard production and are playing along. Charming.

“Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . .”

Rhythmic drum beats.

Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . .”

The key, of course, is that the Doctor and Romana do show up. Not your amateur theatrical Doctor and Romana, but Tom Baker and Mary Tamm.

Doctor: “Well, you’d better introduce me.”

Romana: “As what?”

Doctor: “Oh, I don’t know. As a wise and wonderful person who wants to help. Don’t exaggerate.”

Romana: “This is . . .”

Ranquin: “Seize them.”

Doctor: “I told you not to exaggerate.”

Yes, Tom Baker and Mary Tamm definitely show up.

Doctor: “I know a rogue when I see a rogue, and I’ve no desire to die in the company of a rogue. Have you any desire to die in the company of a rogue?”

Romana: “I’d rather not die at all.”

The rogue they speak of is Rohm-Dutt, a double dealing gun runner supplying defective weapons to our green-skinned friends. About the only distinctive thing about this somewhat bland character is yet another great Doctor Who villain name. I barely notice when a Kroll tentacle drags him off never to be seen again.

Assumed to be in league with Rohm-Dutt, the Doctor and Romana are condemned “to die by the seventh holy ritual” (“Seven’s my lucky number”) and our green-skinned hooligans grab some nearby foliage and truss them up on a makeshift stretcher bar. While Rohm-Dutt and Romana try their best to make us believe they are being torn apart by the creepy crawly vines the Doctor takes note of a window placed above their heads.

“Will you stop babbling about the architecture? We’re having a serious conversation about death.”

Romana has not been with the Doctor long enough to know better (“Doctor, sometimes I don’t think you’re quite right in the head”), but we know, Gary, that there is always sense in the Doctor’s nonsense.

“Nellie Melba’s party piece,” the Doctor says after his high pitched screech breaks the window allowing the rain to loosen the creepers to aid their escape, “though she could only do it with wine glasses.”

In addition to the marshes and the green-skinned natives (cleverly dubbed ‘swampies’) we have a methane refinery and its crew; and lo and behold, Philip Madoc has joined this local troop of actors to lend his talent. His part as Fenner is relatively subdued compared to some of his more memorable turns at Doctor Who (most notably the War Lord in The War Games and Solon in The Brain of Morbius), but he is perfectly placed in this somewhat dull and dour base.

The long scenes of Fenner and Thawn debating over the best method to defeat Kroll (the giant squid of our title) could have been tedious, but with Philip Madoc on hand I actually find these sections to be extremely tense and gripping.

I do have to aside here, Gary. John Leeson was along with Tom Baker and Mary Tamm on this outing, but the swamps were deemed unmanageable for K9 so he was thrown in to the refinery scenes to check monitors and add some Sons of Earth propaganda. I do think, though, that this schoolyard romp missed out—how much more fun it would have been to let John Leeson do his K9 bit on all fours like he did in the rehearsal halls rather than settling for one of the more mundane human roles.

And then there is Kroll.

“Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . .”

Rhythmic drum beats.

Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . .”

Kroll—what all the fuss has been about. The swampies worship him for some bizarre reason and the refinery crew fears him for good reason. Kroll is one giant squid. The biggest monster ever in Doctor Who. You just have to love this guy.

“Well, I’ve had a happy life. Can’t complain. Nearly 760. Not a bad age.” The Doctor has gone to confront Kroll armed only with the tracer. Kroll (“Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . . Kroll! . . .”) swallowed the fifth segment of the Key to Time (ah yes, let’s not forget the Key to Time) and all the Doctor has to do, after a slight wrestling match, is touch the tracer to Kroll and voila!

This playacting band of thespians, though, obviously didn’t want things to end just yet so they added a Doctor Who count down to certain death so that the Doctor could pull a couple of wires to make the whole thing go pffft.

It probably would look more convincing from the front (“Too convincing, but there’s no need to be smug about it.” “I’m not smug.” “I can tell that expression even from behind.”), but this backstage perspective was highly entertaining.

Only one segment to go.