I start out liking Four to Doomsday. It is interesting and
unique. Somewhere along the way, however, I begin drifting. I think it is after
the third or fourth ‘recreational’ as it endlessly drones on with the same
routines played over and over (it’s actually not that many times they run the
recreational, but it certainly seems so). I can’t figure out why androids, or
synthetic beings or whatever they are, need entertainment to begin with, but
then again, being androids (or whatever) perhaps they don’t require variety.
Seeing the same four acts several times a day every day for thousands of years
is maybe all they can handle. Any real person, however, would soon go mad.
The next thing that stands out for me is Tegan’s idea of
fashion. Enlightenment asks her what the well-dressed woman wears on Earth and
Tegan requests paper and pencil. This in itself is odd. She can’t describe
clothing? She has to draw? And then there is the sketch she comes up with.
Enlightenment only asked what Tegan would wear, yet Tegan draws both a man and
a woman, and apparently Tegan is quite an accomplished artist. What is she
doing being a stewardess? And that is her idea of every day wear? Did people
really dress like that? And if Enlightenment truly wants to be enlightened on
matters of apparel, is one sketch really going to do the trick? But then, given
Doctor Who’s penchant for clothing every citizen of alien planets in matching
outfits, I guess it is no surprise that Tegan’s drawing looks more like a
couple of uniforms and these Urbankan aliens therefore accept them as is.
Next I begin to wonder about the Earth representatives that
these Urbankans have kidnapped. Ancient Greeks, all male, and their leader the
philosopher Bigon; Chinese Mandarins, all male, and their leader Lin Futu;
Mayans, all female, and their leader Princess Villagra; and Australian Aborigines,
all male, and their leader Kurkutji; each member of each ethnic group dressed
alike. I guess these Urbankans go for uniformity in their diversity.
And what exactly do the Urbankans expect to accomplish with
these kidnapped humans now turned into androids (or whatever) thousands of
years out from their own time? How exactly are these ancients to influence the
peoples of 20th Century Earth? And the four ethnic leaders have
really been content to plod along on an alien ship for thousands of years with
the improbable hope that at some future date they will return to command their
peoples on the Earth?
However, Four to Doomsday does start out impressively. The
set is fantastic; I can really believe that the TARDIS has landed on a huge
alien space ship (sorry Tegan, not Heathrow) stocked full of advanced
technology and I don’t need just the Doctor’s and Nyssa’s word for it. There is
an air of mystery as unseen aliens observe our adventurers and comment on their
knowledge and appearance. Then we meet our alien creatures and it gets even
better. Monarch, Enlightenment, and Persuasion (“Friendly, I hope”).
Monarch in particular with his benevolent god act is
intriguing, especially as he retains his “frog with a funny head” form
throughout whereas Enlightenment and Persuasion transform into humanoid figures
straight out of Tegan’s drawing.
“You’re very kind,” the Doctor tells Monarch, to which he
replies, “I am merely civilized.” The polite and cultured Monarch is traveling
to Earth “to save them from themselves.” To save them from the “flesh time,”
the “time of the chickenpox, of hunger and heart disease, arthritis, bronchitis
and the common cold.” To overthrow “the greatest tyranny in the universe:
external and internal organs.” To wipe out war and hunger. To eliminate
love—“the exchange of two fantasies.” To stamp out “mental anarchy—they call it
freedom.”
In short, Monarch is coming to Earth to turn people into
Cybermen, or the Urbankan version of this: “fully integrated personalities with
a racial memory.” Sort of Cybermen Lite. The reason given for Earth being the lucky
planet for such a conversion is the presence of silicon which he needs for his
silicon chips to create his race of synthetic beings. And then there is thrown
in this rather odd but tantalizing bit about Monarch’s ultimate goal of mastering
the ability to travel faster than the speed of light so that he can return to
the beginning and meet up with himself—the creator. What that has to do with
Earth and silicon is beyond me, but it is fascinating and I wish we could learn
more about this Monarch.
But then the mindless music and rhythmic dancing starts,
“these little soirees” meant to divert the robotic slaves from their work and
study, and that strangely captivates Monarch even though he has seen these same
four acts over and over for thousands of years, and that distracts us from the
truly compelling aspects of our plot.
Through all of this the Doctor does not distinguish himself.
With a mystery just aching to be solved upon his arrival, he does very little
detecting. All of the vital information is simply supplied to him by Bigon and
Monarch himself. The one bit of deducting he does is to infer that Monarch is
still in the ‘flesh time’ but all he does with this information is murder him.
I have to say, too, that it is a bit rash of the Doctor, something more along
the lines of what the hysterical Tegan would have done. Splashing the poison
right at the entrance to the TARDIS, a poison of which only “one trillionth of
a gram would reduce you to the size of a grain of salt,” would make it rather
difficult for them to pass through the door I would think.
It is Nyssa not the Doctor who figures out how to put the
slave androids out of commission. Faced with no oxygen supply, the Doctor does
put himself into a trance, which previous incarnations have also done, but this
Doctor makes an awful lot of noise gasping and wheezing while doing it. Even
his pockets contain nothing to remark on—a bit of string, a pencil and
notebook, a magnifying glass, a cricket ball—ordinary sorts of things that
could be found in most anyone’s pockets. He does utilize the sonic screwdriver
and looking glass to decommission the monopticons and there is some nifty space
walking and a clever use of the cricket ball to propel himself to the TARDIS
(which Tegan has inexplicably and irrationally piloted out into space and just
out of reach).
All in all, though, this fifth Doctor is rather bland so
far. About the only persona he has carved out for himself is that of a tsking
father on a field trip trying to maintain some semblance of order in an unruly
gang of teens.
Speaking of that unruly gang, not a one of them is likeable,
and they don’t seem to care for one another, either. I take it back what I said
about Tegan in Castrovalva. She is no longer the most valuable member of the
team. She has turned into a shrill harpy. What exactly is that hands wringing,
teeth gnashing, out of control act she puts on as she punches any button she can
find on the TARDIS control panel? Does she really think she can get herself
back home? And is she really going to leave the others behind? Nyssa is the one
crew member to be of any use in this, and she spends most of the time wandering
around lost or in a trance. As for Adric, what can I say? “You’re not so much
gullible as idealistic,” the Doctor tells him. All well and good, Doctor, but
don’t let that boy get anywhere near the Reverend Moon.
It seems as if our trio is going to compete in each serial
to see who can be the most annoying, who can be the most hindrance, and who can
be of the most value (even if it is minimal at best). It does not bode well for
the future.
I am sorry to say that after starting out on a high note I
have come to realize that Four to Doomsday disappoints, and the biggest
disappointment is the Doctor and his companions. But we are still early in the
generation. I will retain my benefit of the doubt. As Monarch says, “We need
doubt. It is the greatest intellectual galvanizer.”
I’m a bit sad, Gary, that I end this with a quote from our
villain, but so it goes . . .
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