Tooth and Claw

Dear Gary—

Pauline Collins! I can’t say enough about Pauline Collins, even though I’ve seen very little of her work. My first and for the longest time my only exposure to her was through Wodehouse Playhouse. I wonder, Gary, if you also watched this as it was aired by PBS around the same time that the original Doctor Who series was playing in our TV market. I can’t remember if I was introduced via the written word or the screen version, but I have had a lifelong love of Wodehouse similar to Doctor Who, and much credit is due to Pauline Collins. (“When cares attack and life seems black, How sweet it is to pot a yak.”)

The next thing I ever saw her in was Doctor Who—the Second Doctor’s The Faceless Ones—and that was only since starting this correspondence just a few short years ago, and much of that serial is regrettably lost. Even still, in the little that remains she makes as much of an impression as she does in Wodehouse. What a loss that she never took the production team up on its offer to make her a companion.

It is only recently, within the past few months, that I Netflixed Upstairs Downstairs on the strength of her presence in the first couple seasons (plus a bonus of Jean Marsh, another notable Doctor Who alum).  One of these days, too, I really have to watch Shirley Valentine. As long as I have started this lengthy aside, I will continue. Shirley Valentine is one of two movies that I had wanted to see at their respective times of release (the other being 2003’s The Station Agent) that I never did catch but that stuck with me through the years as ones I really needed to get around to some day. I was fortunate enough to finally find The Station Agent and was not disappointed. (And to aside within my aside—when I first got The Station Agent via Netflix I watched it alone; Dave had no interest; then we started watching Game of Thrones and lo and behold Dave suddenly re-queued The Station Agent because of Peter Dinklage, and doesn’t that speak volumes about the merit of good, solid actors and how they can elevate the material.) I now have Shirley Valentine in my Netflix DVD queue but unfortunately its availability is listed as ‘Unknown.’

All of this leads me to Tooth and Claw. Pauline Collins guests as Queen Victoria, and she is far and away the best thing about this episode.

The Doctor and Rose are back on Earth (sigh) in 1879 Scotland, but they are still on a lark. It’s a little bewildering, actually, how these two manage to find giddy moments of glee amidst the death and destruction of Tooth and Claw. It’s almost as if the tragedy is playing out for their sole enjoyment. Victoria is so not amused.

Equally bewildering are the crouching tiger hidden dragon monks; traitors to their country and their God for no apparent reason.  The only explanation offered is that they have turned from God in order to worship the alien werewolf creature that landed on their front doorstep in 1540. However, why they would worship the thing is beyond me. They feed it local livestock at the rise of each full moon, provide it with a youngster from the village from time to time in order to house its being, and keep it under lock and key and controlled by its fear of mistletoe for good measure. However, there doesn’t seem to be any promise of power or wealth or glory to account for their devotion. I suppose I could buy that the faith of these devout men has become twisted and in unison they have turned their religious fervor over to the wolf, except that does not account for the one stating, ”May God forgive me,” even as he turns the innocent household staff over to his lupine god.

The monks plan is to have the beast bite Victoria in order to establish The Empire of the Wolf. They’re not in any hurry about it though. This particular order of brethren has been waiting around for a couple hundred years hoping for the current monarch to coincidentally pass by during the cycle of the full moon. Couldn’t they simply have let the thing loose in the countryside and soon there would be an empire full of werewolves? Or is it vital that only the Royal Family be infected? But once infected, wouldn’t the Family then be running around the countryside biting people? And how exactly is this going to help the monks? Do they plan on keeping the Queen in a cage with mistletoe scattered about so they can rule in her place?

Best to look upon this story as one of the fairy tales and folklore that Queen Victoria revels in even while she disparages the supernatural. As such it is quite fun and exhilarating. If it were not for Rose and the kung fu monks, this could have been a decent gothic piece. It has the requisite setting and atmosphere, and for the most part the actors equip themselves with all due seriousness. The monks, however, bring a jarring sense of the bizarre and Rose lends an air of levity that blunts the horror. The Doctor treats the plot with the gravity it deserves, except that is when Rose distracts him with a wink and a giggle. (I do love how the Queen stops Rose short in mid snigger with a stern, “Do you think this is funny?”) And so this one goes down as a child’s bedtime story more than anything. As Victoria would say, “Fanciful tales intended to scare the children; but good for the blood, I think.”

Like all good fairy tales, it has a magical ending. A giant diamond cut to dazzling perfection that the Queen just happens to have on her person; with some major precognition her husband and Sir Robert’s father had come up with divine inspiration to build a massive light chamber disguised as a telescope and powered by the diamond; the Doctor stumbles upon the plot and the solution at the most opportune time; everything comes together in phenomenal fashion; and they all live happily ever after.

“I’ll not have it. No, sir. Not you, not that thing, none of it. This is not my world.” Queen Victoria will not admit the fairytale beast. So while she can reward Sir Doctor and Dame Rose with knighthood for saving her life and her empire, she banishes the pair from her world.

“I don’t know what you are, the two of you,” she tells them, “or where you’re from, but I know that you consort with stars and magic and think it fun. But your world is steeped in terror and blasphemy and death, and I will not allow it.” She then leaves them with this advice, “You will reflect, I hope, on how you came to stray so far from all that is good, and how much longer you will survive this terrible life.”

The Doctor and Rose don’t take the sentiment to heart. They saunter back into the TARDIS chuckling to themselves over their private joke. Victoria, however, is in earnest as she leaves the Powell Estate. Thus Torchwood is born. The very institute that destroyed the retreating Sycorax ship in The Christmas Invasion which in turn led to the Doctor’s merciless condemnation of Harriet Jones. And so it all comes full circle for this facetious and unforgiving Doctor.

“And if this Doctor should return,” Victoria proclaims, “then he should beware, because Torchwood will be waiting.” It is a hint and a promise for things to come.

Another enjoyable episode, Gary, but yet another in which the Doctor doesn’t particularly hold up well upon close examination.  On the surface is Sir Doctor of TARDIS who consorts with the stars, but lurking beneath is the man of death and destruction who thinks it fun.

But it is still and all happily ever after, Gary . . .