The Twin Dilemma

Dear Gary—

“Yuck.”

That about sums up The Twin Dilemma. More words of wisdom from Peri: “It’s terrible.”

I find it oddly appropriate, however, that this initial Colin Baker Sixth Doctor serial is a patchwork quilt of awfulness.

The worst of the lot are the twins of our title. These Children of the Corn rejects might have their father inexplicably cowed, but they really are rather pathetic. I can’t imagine why some intergalactic space agency has a special interest in the pair, but someone in authority sensibly calls an abrupt halt to that plotline early on. Unfortunately our story is stuck with these brats. Apparently they are a couple of mathematical geniuses, but Adric did a better job of convincing me of that than Romulus and Remus do.

Azmael, going under the alias of Edgeworth for some unknown reason, kidnaps this less than dynamic duo and for better or worse our dilemma begins.

It begins with a newly regenerated and highly erratic Doctor.

“No place for space. Nothing. Nothing but the grinding engines of the universe, the crushing boredom of eternity.” This is the fifth time the Doctor has undergone this “natural metamorphosis” and it is beginning to wear on him. The first three times were relatively uneventful, the fourth laid him out for a spell, but now the enormity of the “grinding engines” and “crushing boredom” are becoming very real for him. Is it any wonder so many Time Lords succumb to insanity? I think ahead to New Who and the Master’s description of the drum beat in his head . . . . But I digress.

“Regeneration in my case is a swift but volcanic experience,” the Doctor tells a worried Peri. I have to admit, Gary, that I rather like Peri in these opening sequences. “I have to live with it,” she says of his new countenance, clearly unhappy with the change from the “almost young” Fifth Doctor. Her surly reaction to his regeneration is very apropos of her character and for a brief period she is tolerable.

I even find the Sixth Doctor tolerable for a one serial regeneration induced psychotic episode. His mood swings, sudden fits of violence, and acts of cowardice are all forgivable in this context. He still manages during sporadic moments of sanity to resolve the difficulties faced in The Twin Dilemma. He does play it a bit over the top, however. Maybe it is the clown outfit he chooses, or the mediocre and somewhat loose production, but he acts more buffoon than hero.

What I find most off-putting about this characterization is Colin Baker’s emphasis on personal pronouns when delivering his more arrogant lines: “For a minute you almost had me worried there;” and “It may take . . . even me . . . a few days.” His persistence in punctuating the lines in this way is unnecessary and turns what could be justified conceit into something that is inflated and suspect. If memory serves, he keeps up this embellishment during the rest of his tenure which is one of the main reasons I have placed him at the bottom of my list. I can overlook it to some extent in this premier serial due to his regenerative psychosis, but if it does persist as I suspect, he will retain that ranking. (Interesting that my dislike of Peri and the Sixth Doctor stems from irritating speech patterns for both.)

“A peri is a good and beautiful fairy in Persian mythology. The interesting thing is, before it became good, it was evil.” With this statement the Doctor lunges at Peri and begins to choke the life out of her. This scene is shocking to say the least, and it is also most certainly ill advised. The Doctor’s instability has already been established so there is no need for this violent proof of it. The fact that it is not only violent but murderous is so deeply alien to the Doctor that it undermines everything we have come to expect of him.  “I have an inbuilt resistance to any form of violence,” he assures Peri when informed of this latest fit. It makes him sound like an android with a prime directive programmed in that has somehow been bypassed.

If the intent was to show that the Doctor does have a homicidal side buried deep within his psyche; if the intent was to illustrate a dark and dangerous edge to the Doctor; if the intent was to elicit an element of fear; why did they dress him up in a clown outfit? But that isn’t the only thing weakening this scene. It is immediately blunted when Peri puts this incident behind her and loyally follows along behind the Doctor, even briefly resigning herself to a life of hermitage, ministering unto the Doctor’s needs. This is a young girl who has gone off with a strange man she barely knows, she is on an alien planet with no means of returning home other than through him, and he has just tried to kill her. This girl is not very bright, she has a masochistic side, or the death threat was not really serious and merely a gratuitous gimmick.

This is when Peri starts to become irritating again. Knowing this man is unstable, all she can do is whine, ask continual questions, berate, and contradict him. I think she is deliberately trying to goad the Doctor; perhaps she is masochistic after all. Let’s take a look at one particular scene:

Peri: “Oh, let’s get out of here.”

Doctor: “The perpetual cry of all cowards. We must investigate.”

Peri is being her typical difficult self and the Doctor is in one of his saner moments. Peri therefore decides to mess with him, playing on his fears when she knows he is prone to fits of cowardice:

Peri: “But do you think that wise? There could be enormous danger, even worse.”

Doctor: “Worse? Yes, yes, well perhaps you’re right. The purpose of reconnaissance, after all, is to gather information, not to finish up face down in a pool of one’s own blood. Especially blood as noble as mine. We’ve found out what we want to know.”

Peri: “There is one thing, though.”

Now Peri is really sticking it to him.

Doctor: “What?”

Peri: “The children Lieutenant Lang mentioned.”

Wow. Backtracking on herself just to further oppose the Doctor. Undermining his confidence, getting him worked up, and then challenging him to continue on.

“You know my current state of mind,” the Doctor points out, and yes, she certainly does know his current state of mind, yet she does everything in her power to provoke him.

In a later scene she expresses relief at finding out the Doctor is alive when she thought him dead. “I-i-i-it’s called compassion, Doctor; i-it’s the difference that remains between us.” This is an obviously scripted line that falls flat when she stammers it out, especially given the little concern or sympathy she has expressed towards him throughout.

I think my own sympathy for the Sixth Doctor is growing just a little.

“And kindly refrain from addressing me as Doc.” With that line harkening back to the First Doctor my sympathy grows even more.

Despite the handicaps of a contrary companion and of “behaving like a manic barometer,” the Doctor manages to navigate through this muddled plot and come out a winner. He is about the only one who gives a good accounting for himself.

Hugo and his Technicolor Dreamcoat talks a good game but spends most of his time knocked unconscious or stuck in gastropod slime, although he does come through at the end. Parenthetically, I guess I can’t blame him for deciding to quit his Interplanetary Pursuit Squadron seeing as they had abandoned him to his fate, but I doubt that Jaconda will have much to offer him (unless he is into birdmen). And while I’m on the subject, why do the Jacondans need outsiders to lead them—first Asmael and now presumably Hugo?

As for Asmael, for a Time Lord he is pretty thick headed. I suppose being as old and on his last generation as he is, he might have some excuse. But really, he didn’t realize what would happen to the two smaller planets when moved closer in orbit to the sun? But then all of the planet moving business is farfetched and extremely shaky science to begin with. I don’t know, Gary. I’m not a scientist. But the theory that placing the planets in the same orbit only in different time zones—wouldn’t they eventually catch up to each other? Planet Two is in the same place as Planet One except on Tuesday instead of Monday. Planet Three is in the same place except on Wednesday. That’s all well and good on Monday, but what happens when Tuesday dawns on Planet One?

The makeup for the Jacondan birdmen is quite good, actually. Noma is a decent henchman and Drak is noble but doomed. The Chamberlain is pitiful and I’m not sure what purpose his character serves.

Then there is Mestor. What can I say? Another in a long line of woefully realized Doctor Who monsters.

The Doctor, meantime, rescues Lang from his shipwreck, manages to escape from the locked room set to self destruct, locates the kidnapped twins, discerns the fatal flaw in the planet moving scheme, reasons out Mestor’s true intentions, and kills Mestor thus saving Jaconda and the universe. Not a bad outing for his first go. I also have to mention that his touching farewell to the dying Asmael is full of the compassion that Peri talks of but fails to practice.

“And I would suggest, Peri,” the Doctor advises, “that you wait a little before criticizing my new persona. You may well find it isn’t quite as disagreeable as you think.” Perhaps I will take a little of the Doctor’s advice myself, Gary.  “Whatever else happens,” he continues, “I am the Doctor, whether you like it or not.”

I still can’t say that I necessarily like it, but I would go so far as to say I don’t dislike it as much as I thought.