Warriors of the Deep

Dear Gary—

Warriors of the Deep is another well-worn base under siege plot coupled with the equally familiar base being sabotaged story. Neither in this case works. Blame it on a rushed production; blame it on a tight budget; blame it on over lit sets; blame it on misguided principals; just don’t blame it on the Myrka.

I can only wonder what the actors thought as they went through their hurried paces, no doubt being handed pages of script just before going on camera.

Commander Vorshak: I wonder how macho I can look in all this eye makeup. At least mine isn’t as bad as Bulic’s. (Heh, heh, heh.)

Doctor: Let’s see how much I can play with Turlough’s mind.

Silurians: How . . . slow . . . can . . . we . . . go? (Yea, verily, yea.)

Maddox: Sigh. (I wonder if all this sweating will make my mascara run.)

Solow: These guys and their eye makeup. They have nothing on me. Could do with a bit more blush, though.

Tegan: I do wish I wouldn’t have to keep falling against this darn consol. What’s with the space threat anyway? I thought we were supposed to be under the sea in this adventure.

Vorshak: Destroyed reconnaissance probe, unidentified flying object, wait . . . are we in space or under the sea again? OK, just bark some orders and try to look manly. What’s happened to the lights? Spotlight!

Maddox: Press some buttons; hand on big red button; collapse. Whew, that’s over with.

Nilson: Programming Disc, all right, that sounds impressive. Look as sinister as you can, this must be important.

Turlough: Call the lift or not, Doctor. Make up your mind.

Maddox: I feel fine . . . what was in that disc you gave me?

Doctor: Now let’s play with Tegan’s mind. A little radiation never hurt anybody. Just set this reactor to overload . . . no harm in that. Uh oh, guess my little plan didn’t work as well as I thought; here come the guards. “When I say run, run.” Just love saying that. Now, fall over this rail, let them all think I’ve drowned.

Turlough: “Face it, Tegan, he’s drowned.” Don’t really believe that, but let’s get out of here!

Extra in background: Hello, anybody there? Why am I knocking on this door, anyway? And why exactly do I need to wear this head-in-a-bag helmet?

Silurians: That’s . . . an impressive array . . . of Sea Devils . . . . I like . . . their warrior costumes . . . . I wonder . . . if . . . they can move . . .  any faster . . . in those?

Turlough: “Run, Tegan, save yourself!” Not really sure why I’m yelling that to a closed metal door.

Doctor: Oh look, how convenient. An unconscious guard right here on the floor so I can get out of this blasted cricket outfit at last. Oh, I guess this guard’s uniform doesn’t smell any better, though. “What have you been eating?”

Tegan: Yelp; oh look, the Doctor’s alive. “I want to help find Turlough.”

Doctor: Guess I’m saddled with her for the rest of the serial.

Silurians: No . . . the Sea . . . Devils . . . can’t move . . . any faster . . . than . . . we . . . can.

Turlough: These explanations are better left to the Doctor. Ah, here’s his entrance; and he’s got a gun. That’s unusual, but I’m not kicking. Didn’t like the sound of that mind delving they were talking about.

Preston: Oh look, here’s a police box with a door wide open.

Doctor: “Perhaps it’s time for a little mutual trust.” Never was comfortable with guns.

Vorshak: Well, if Preston found a police box I guess the Doctor must be OK.

Doctor: OK, here come the Silurians. Maybe we can finally get some action around here.

Vorshak: “It’s not what they want, it’s what I want, Doctor.” That’s telling him.

Silurians: “Release . . . the Myrka.”

Tegan: The Doctor says these Silurians are honorable; only want to live in peace. Hmmm, now he’s telling us they think we are “an evolutionary error they obviously mean to correct.” How peaceful are they again, Doctor?

Solow: “Nilson, we must speak.” I haven’t been on camera for a while. What’s going on with our sabotage subplot? Can we somehow intersect with this whole Silurian siege storyline?

Nilson: All right, I get to use this little box to control Maddox. Just push this button here  . . .

Maddox: What was in that disc you slipped me?

Doctor: “Oh dear . . . the Myrka.” How in the world am I going to make this seem convincing?

Nilson: OK, guess this little button makes Maddox kill. Cool. I’ll have to remember that.

Doctor: “I’m afraid the Myrka takes quite a lot to impress.” Quite a lot of suspension of disbelief, too, maybe some dim lighting and quick cutting; I do hope the director is keeping that in mind.

Tegan: Let’s see how gracefully I can sit down and pretend this door fell on me. Oh look, Turlough has some clown socks on.

Doctor: “Brave heart, Tegan.” We’re at the cliffhanger; we’ll be out of this scene soon enough.

Turlough: Here’s my chance to show off my bravery. I can handle a gun with the best of them.

Myrka Cam!

Myrka: Oh, I’m kind of dizzy. What’s going on out there? If I can just bat my arms around a bit . . . Ha! I think I hit something.

Solow: Man I’m out of shape; hiding that dead body really took it out of me.

Four base personnel running through the corridor: Quick, let’s stand up against this wall so we can be electrocuted by the Myrka all in one go!

Preston: Orders to kill, jackpot. Plus I get to go with the Doctor. I’m bound to be in the middle of the action now.

Bulic: “They’ve got us outgunned, Commander.” Wow, do I feel foolish saying that. Surely they’ll somehow make that pathetic fight against six slow-mo Sea Devils look impressive in post-production.

Turlough: “Sorry?” Now I’m contributing to the defense of the base? OK, just tell me where to go and what to do. Huh, I wonder what Vorshak and Bulic are on about? Sea Base Command? Radio silence? Must be some plot point I’m not involved with. Try to look interested.

Preston:  “I suppose you know what you’re doing?” Thought I’d see some action going with the Doctor. Instead I’m standing around watching him tinker with some tinfoil covered prop.

Tegan: "Can you be sure?" This is getting kind of tedious.

Doctor: “No Tegan, perhaps you should just ask it nicely to go away.” Where’s Nyssa when I need her?

Two base personnel: Let’s just sidestep our way through camera range while the Myrka is coming. So what if we’ve got these head-in-a-bag helmets on? Some of our friends will be sure to recognize us.

Tegan: “Ready now?” Sooner or later something’s bound to happen.

Solow: Nothing, nothing, I’m not up to anything . . . nothing behind my back . . . just passing through . . . carry on . . . don’t mind me . . . . Whew, that was a close one. Hmmm, there are those two camera hogging extras; I’ll just duck in here for a moment . . . . OK, here’s my big scene. I can take this Myrka down, I know I can . . . a one and a two and a kick . . . !

Myrka: What the . . . ?!

Silurians: Are you Sea Devils . . . not through the . . . bulkhead . . . yet?

Sea Devils: Don’t look at . . . us. What . . . took you . . . so long . . . to get . . . here?

Tegan: “What happened to Turlough?” I’ll bet he’s seeing some action.

Camera hogging extra: Hey, I get a line. This disc must be important.

Vorshak: These extras think they’re so important. I’ve got the disc now. And this little tube thingy I can bark orders into.

Preston: Oh man, just when I know the action is about to heat up I have to leave the Doctor.

Sea Devils: Advance . . . advance . . . advance . . .

Base personnel: Try not to back track too quickly against this molasses onslaught.

Turlough: Can’t I at least fire once?

Nilson: More box action. Hold it up so everyone can see how I’m controlling Maddox. Heh, heh.

Silurians: Do . . . you . . . bobble headed . . . Sea Devils . . . have everything . . . under . . . control?

Preston: Hmmm, I wonder which one of these two macho men I could go for? No, they both wear too much eye makeup. Oh, wait, Maddox is up to something, but I have to stand by and call the commander over to deal with it. Lame. Nilson’s holding up some box like it’s the be all and end all and Vorshak is falling down like a baby. Am I ever going to see any action?

Vorshak: I think that fall messed up my hair. Where’s the touch up lady when you need her?

Doctor: “Close your eyes, make a wish!” That’s the only way this Myrka is going to appear any less laughable.

Myrka: Why does everyone hate me? I only want to be loved.

Silurians: “The Myrka has been . . . destroyed.” I . . . wonder . . . if we can get . . . these Sea Devils . . . to move . . . any . . . faster.

Nilson: Hah, I not only get the little box, I get the little gun as well. Who’s in control now, Vorshak? Ah, and I get to reveal my evil master plan. “The power bloc opposed to this Sea Base . . .” wait, that’s it? Who writes this stuff? At least I’ve got an escape pod. Maddox and the Doctor think they can take me? Not a chance; I’ve got the little gun; and now I’ve got Tegan. I’ll be well out of this in no time.

Turlough: “We’ve got to get out of here.” Isn’t this thing over with yet? If I was an extra at least I could be happily dead by now instead of locked up with an entire episode yet to go.

Nilson: Oh, come on! Blinded? Killed by these lumbering Sea Devils? What about my little control box? What about my sabotage? What about the missile attack? What about the power bloc opposed to the Sea Base? I had so much more to give.

Doctor: “How do you do. I’m the Doctor. Haven’t we met before?” At last, let’s get a little plot going.  “I know that you are Ichtar, the surviving leader of the noble Silurian Triad.” (Ichtar . . . Ichtar . . . no, doesn’t ring a bell, but let’s go with it.)”When last we met I tried to mediate between you and the people of Earth.” OK, about time we got into the heart of this story.

Tegan: Hmm, these bumbling Sea Devils look awfully inquisitive, or do they just have a crick in their neck?

Ichtar: “Defensive war . . . Doctor. There is a distinction . . . . Silurian law forbids any other.”

Quizzical Sea Devil in background: Hmmm, I wonder what the distinction is?

Vorshak: ‘Ape primitives’ indeed. These Silurians seem cowardly to me, hiding behind their morals, denying culpability, but talking genocide all the same. And what’s with these inquisitive Sea Devils? They’re getting curiouser and curiouser by the minute. Come on, Doctor, enough of this talk. When can I get in on the action? If they’re going to trigger the war our base was designed for, let’s get on with it already.

Bulic: You won’t catch me going through that tiny ventilation shaft. Oh wait, a couple of girls have arrived. Maybe if they go up first . . .

Vorshak: “You’ll get no help from me, Silurian.” Yeah, that’ll show him. Well . . . alive or dead . . . if you put it that way . . .

Turlough: Sigh. Tegan, Tegan, Tegan. It was my idea to go through the shaft, now you want to barge in and take credit for a rescue attempt. Let’s just go back to the TARDIS and sit this one out. “What is it about Earth people that makes them think a futile gesture is a noble one?”

Bulic: I don’t know about you, Turlough, but I’m following the girl in the mini skirt.

Preston: Guess I’m stuck with the boy. Am I never going to get to see any action?

Doctor: OK, Ichtar has laid out his plans of genocide, killing all, even the base personnel, sparing only me and my companions. Hmmm, wonder if I can deny Tegan?

Vorshak: “Yes, I know.” I know, I know. You don’t have to tell me. Humpf; it’s my hand they need; I’ll milk this for all it’s worth.

Bulic: Pssst. Doctor. You, me, corridor, two minutes.

Doctor: Huh, wonder what Bulic wants. I’ll just mosey over here. Those Sea Devils aren’t looking too inquisitive at the moment. They’ll never notice if I just slip out.

Vorshak: So you sea monster creature things have lost the prisoners and the Doctor. That’s none of my concern. I’m not talking to you, so there.

Preston: Come on, Turlough. Let’s go back to join the action.

Silurians: Ah . . . the magic pop-o-matic . . . that will undo all the Nilson/Solow/Maddox sabotage.

Preston: Oh, that’s a particularly gruesome green slime effect on that dying Sea Devil. But Doctor, even if it is a bit gruesome, it is effective. Can you tell me again why you don’t want to use this Hexachromite gas on these creatures who are bent on destroying us and are showing no signs of the noble hand of peace that you keep going on about?

Doctor: “I Sometimes wonder why I like the people of this miserable planet so much.” Here’s my chance to showcase my noble self-righteousness.

Turlough: Calm down, Doctor.

Doctor: OK, you’re right. I’ve had my say. Now let’s get down to ending this thing once and for all.

Vorshak: “I said you wouldn’t succeed.” Told you so! Oh, how can they expect me to act with these rubber suited monsters. I’m just going to stand here and look macho while they play with their magic pop-o-matic .

Preston: Sigh, back to the TARDIS. I knew I was never going to see any action in this. Oh good, here comes a Sea Devil. I’m going to see some action yet or die . . . try . . . ing . . . oh man . . .

Vorshak: Darn. Their magic pop-o-matic has dimmed the lights. How do they expect me to act in the dark?

Tegan: Doctor, do we always have to run through corridors?

Vorshak: Wait, what’s going on? Sea Devils and Silurians dropping like flies, the Doctor running around, now I have to deal with not only the dim lighting but some smoke pouring in and obscuring my camera shots. OK Doctor, I’m going to get into this somehow. Here, we have a magic bubble helmet thing of our own. Time for me to tell the Doctor what to do. I’d be the brave one, but I’m afraid that bubble helmet would mess up my hair, not to mention what it would do to my eye makeup.

Turlough: Finally, a countdown to death. This must mean we’re getting close to the end.

Vorshak: “Now concentrate, Doctor . . .” (Grimace) “Let nothing distract you.” Must make the most of this death scene. It’s time for my close up . . .

Turlough: “They’re all dead, you know.” I kept saying we should have just gone back to the TARDIS and skipped this train wreck.

Doctor: “There should have been another way.”

End Credits.

(Bulic: Hey, what about me? I’m still alive somewhere in the Sea Base. Don’t I get a final scene?)

Sorry, Gary. That’s about the only way I could get through this one. It’s a little something I think I’ll call my Joel-Bot Eye View. (Push the button, Frank . . .)