The Aztecs

Our knowledge of the Aztecs dates from CortezпїЅs landing, and so in choosing to set his story before then John Lucarotti sails into murky waters. The Aztecs brushes the surface of the period, name checking all the famous bits you learned about at school (human sacrifice, lack of the wheel, cocoa), pairing off each member of the regular cast with one well-known facet of Aztec society. Lucarotti is a writer of such awesome talent though that he takes these broad sweeps and turns them into much more, and the result is that the viewer becomes totally immersed in the period.

The opening scene bears all the hallmarks of the early William Hartnell episodes, with a leisurely exploration of the new location and a lecture from the science / history teacher (delete as applicable). ItпїЅs likeable, as scenes featuring Jacqueline Hill invariably are, but the obvious pattern that it follows in the context of the era as a whole makes it slightly hard to get into; thereпїЅs a definite feeling that Lucarotti is more comfortable with the freewheeling quasi-Elizabethan dialogue he gives to the Aztecs (for some reason) than with the mundane, everyday speech of the regulars. All this matters little as soon as the Doctor and Ian emerge from the TARDIS, the mighty Williams Hartnell and Russell forming пїЅ along with Hill пїЅ possibly the best ever Doctor / Companion grouping.

Initially the hidden doorway points to a swashbuckling serial of high adventure, and AutlocпїЅs arrival makes for a pleasing contrast to expectations as Keith Pyott gently underplays his poetic lines. This is in stark contrast to John RinghamпїЅs manic, almost cartoon-like portrayal of Tlotoxl, which works because for all its energy it never descends into a send-up. Ringham has stated in interviews that his performance owes a heavy debt to Richard III, as if we needed that pointed out, and on the whole The Aztecs smacks of a proto-Post-modern version of Shakespeare throughout. ThereпїЅs also some incidental amusement to be had in seeing the rest of the cast doing verbal backflips in their tortuous attempts at pronouncing the characterпїЅs name. ThereпїЅs a great moment of direction when heпїЅs first introduced, as the camera sweeps sideways following the regulars, only to reverse direction and bring him suddenly and shockingly into view; I single that out as for the most part John CrockettпїЅs direction is fairly leaden and it feels very much like he comes from a theatrical background, as characters tend to face the camera rather than each other as they speak.

ItпїЅs strange that Autloc suggests that the human sacrifices should end long before Barbara shows any influence on him; in a way it negates his character as it means that the development thatпїЅs written for him doesnпїЅt actually exist. Yet in some ways it expresses the brilliance of the story in that something so simple at its heart becomes, over the course of the four episodes, something so magnificently rich all the same.

If thereпїЅs criticism of The Aztecs, very often it takes the form of пїЅpeople only like it because Marco Polo and The Massacre are missing.пїЅ I consider the suggestion that somehow thereпїЅs a block on judging this story by its own standards rather absurd, and for the record I saw this long before I had any knowledge of LucarottiпїЅs other work пїЅ I loved it then, and I love it now. But I will acknowledge that Marco Polo is the superior story, and I can only wish that Waris Hussein had helmed this instead of John Crockett since the studio-recorded fight scenes are laughable; the lack of editing facilities mean that thereпїЅs no attempt at hiding the fact that the actors are desperately trying not to break their balsa wood clubs.

Margot van der Burgh is charming as Cameca and her scenes with Hartnell are a joy, all taking place in Barry NewberyпїЅs excellent garden set. ThereпїЅs been criticism here too of the Doctor getting too involved himself while warning Barbara not to, but thatпїЅs a key part of the first seasonпїЅs character arc: the Doctor blunders in and causes trouble because he doesnпїЅt apply the rules to himself. This is the episode where he gets the shock to his system that snaps him out of it: both in hurting Cameca, and in seeing BarbaraпїЅs failure. That the regulars actually get involved is one of the storyпїЅs great features, as many other historicals (particularly the otherwise-excellent The Crusade) are slightly let down by the way the regulars become little more than audience members who have wandered in front of the cameras. In The Aztecs, part of the subtlety and richness that we see comes from Lucarotti using the necessarily limited portrayal of the period to show us the regulars as much as the Aztecs themselves. From BarbaraпїЅs point of view the idea of changing history isnпїЅt important; in this story itпїЅs the desire to change it that matters, and I think that makes it all the more interesting. It certainly leads to the extraordinary confrontation between the Doctor and Barbara, possibly one of the best scenes ever. The DoctorпїЅs assertion of пїЅbelieve me, I knowпїЅ is an early hint at the darkness of his past.

ThereпїЅs a real sense of culture shock in this story, which really tries to deal with the reality of how someone would react if they were transported back four hundred years. Barbara reacts to it reasonably well in the end and has a good moment answering TlotoxlпїЅs questions, and пїЅwhat if thieves walk among the Gods?пїЅ is a great line.

HereпїЅs where the episodeпїЅs credibility takes a massive blow though, as it turns out all of a sudden that mild-mannered science teacher Ian happens to be a martial arts expert. This is one of the hugest contrivances of all time, and while the fact that itпїЅs only ever mentioned in this episode means that it doesnпїЅt come across as quite so huge it does make it even less plausible. Thanks to William Russell itпїЅs still oddly likeable, but IanпїЅs line of пїЅI wonпїЅt kill you this timeпїЅ пїЅ to the Aztec warrior chief, no less пїЅ is funny for all the wrong reasons and docks this episode, in isolation, several points. However, it does herald the beginning of a more focussed plot as Tlotoxl and Ixta begin to scheme together.

Frequently in this story conversations are overheard, characters go off with each other for clandestine asides, and overly-convenient family connections emerge (Ixta being the temple-builderпїЅs son) that really highlight the episodeпїЅs Shakespearian roots. Broadcasting its influences so blatantly gives The Aztecs more of a sense of fun than other episodes, and the nightmare that faces Barbara seems all the more disturbing as a consequence. The two disparate elements of pastiche and serious drama hang together though, largely because of the reverence with which itпїЅs all treated. The exception is CamecaпїЅs ridiculous line of пїЅin bliss is quenched my thirsty heartпїЅ, which takes the episode temporarily far beyond the realms of parody.

Episode twoпїЅs battle between Ian and Ixta has a certain climatic feel to it, and episode three has a very пїЅsecond halfпїЅ feel with new elements added to the plot, such as the impending eclipse and SusanпїЅs arranged marriage to the Perfect Victim. Equally the characters gain some new material, as Ian explains to Barbara that sheпїЅs seeing Tlotoxl as the unusual one when really he isnпїЅt. ItпїЅs followed by another fantastically enjoyable scene as Tlotoxl and Tonila try to make Barbara drink poisoned wine. The third episode nicely combines all the different elements of the story: the tunnel into the temple gives us the high adventure the beginning suggested, while the DoctorпїЅs accidental engagement to Cameca lightens the tone; meanwhile, AutlocпїЅs shocked question to Barbara that пїЅyou would sacrifice us to save your handmaiden pain?пїЅ never lets us forget the awful situation she has made for herself. This episode also gives us the first real cliffhanger, as the others seem more like story breaks with something dramatic added on as an afterthought to make up the requirements.

Episode four (or should that be Act IV?) shows just how useless the regularsпїЅ well-intentioned plans are as they are forced to simply abandon their mistakes rather than to try to make amends for them and risk further damage, and AutlocпїЅs line of пїЅwe are a doomed peopleпїЅ really shows the implications of non-interference. The plot to frame Ian for the attack on Autloc shows up TlotoxlпїЅs human motivations as well as his religious ones, which dampen his character slightly as they make him an ordinary villain, rather than someone who just happens to be convinced that their beliefs are true. However, he does have one more fantastic speech, talking about how he wants to seal пїЅthe false YetaxaпїЅ in a room without doors.

I gather the final battle (helped by being film-recorded) is supposed to be climax, but for me the more significant scene is the utterly sublime coda between the Doctor and Barbara. I can only imagine with horror how this scene would be played these days, with the two of them crying in each othersпїЅ arms while Murray Gold drenches the scene in stringsпїЅhere we have a quiet, understated exchange: пїЅWe failed, didnпїЅt we?пїЅ пїЅYes we did. We had to.пїЅ And not forgetting the final message, пїЅyou failed to save a civilisation, but at least you helped one man.пїЅ And as if that wasnпїЅt enough, look at the DoctorпїЅs final moments: he sadly leaves behind his memento of Cameca, and then at the last minute changes his mind and goes back for it. IпїЅm normally a cynical old duffer about this sort of thing, but something about how understated it is makes me all warm inside.

ItпїЅs a shame that The Aztecs has developed a reputation as being a poor manпїЅs Marco Polo, and I feel that if LucarottiпїЅs other episodes were found it might become more popular as people would stop these incessant and spurious comparisons. As it is, taken on its own terms, The Aztecs is utterly gorgeous and IпїЅm eternally glad that it survives.