The Curse of FenricBookmark and Share

Friday, 24 March 2006 - Reviewed by Ed Martin

The Curse Of Fenric and I go back and long, long way. In fact, this was only the second Doctor Who story I ever saw (the first being Death To The Daleks) way back in 1991 when I was six years old. I didn’t get into Death To The Daleks at that age, so this is the point where I trace the beginning of my fandom – having said that, I can quite honestly and categorically say that watching this story for the first time all those years ago was the most scared I have ever been in my life. Perhaps that’s why the McCoy title sequence never bothered me too much – I associated it with this story so instead of it being brash and gaudy I found it menacing, signalling what was to come in this story. I was so frightened that I didn’t watch this story again for years and years (meaning that my ancient VHS tape is still in great condition) but now, aged 21, The Curse Of Fenric stands proud in my top three stories of all time.

It begins as it means to go on: scarily, with two Russian dinghies heading towards the English coast. Under the water lies the forgotten remains of a Viking longboat, and on the surface a strange mist is falling. The rear dinghy is enveloped…and vanishes. Only one of its crew is found later, washed up on the shore – a gibbering, petrified wreck. I could go on like this for the distance, as it’s such a captivating story that knows exactly how to get a reaction from the audience – be it excitement, interest, puzzlement or terror – and executes it brilliantly. Part of its appeal lies in the unease and fear created by the sense of the unknown, the bread and butter of successful horror. The fact that the soldier Gayev is unable to say what has terrified him so badly, the scene becomes even scarier. I’ve gone on in my reviews elsewhere about my love of a good, absorbing mystery, and Gayev being mute works much more effectively than a cheesy “it was…it was…aargh!” which a lesser story may have employed. This sense extends to the plot: what is the Viking longboat doing there? We find out later, but rarely do we learn anything conclusive. This is evidence that this story is at least as confusing (not to mention thematically rich) as the preceding Ghost Light. Great though that story is the general weirdness of its plot and themes are its be-all-and-end-all; The Curse Of Fenric on the other hand is much, much more.

You look differently on things depending on what mood you’re in. This is such a good story that I actually really like both Sylvester McCoy and Sophie Aldred in it. I’d say they’d both improved since their debuts and to an extent this is true, but Aldred’s performance in much of Battlefield suggests a flaw in this. It must be said that elements coming together is a key factor in the overall impression of a story – a scene or a line might work very well in a story like this, but may just annoy if in a weak story. Anyway, I’m waffling a bit: they’re both on good form here, both clearly enjoying the brilliant script.

Dr Judson’s office is a good example of the quality of the period detail of the story: historically accurate yes, but fundamentally an ordinary room which helps create a sense of realism; visually gorgeous as it was the sepia-tinted The Empty Child very definitely takes place in Blitzworld™, a Second World War that is definitely an artistic construction, whereas it’s easier to believe that this could be real. Dinsdale Landen is brilliant as the tortured Dr Judson and – spookily – he died the day before the DVD arrived from Amazon.co.uk. 

Petrossian’s melodramatic comment that the evil is “cold against your skin” is cheesy, but the scene is rescued by Tomek Bork as the noble(ish) Captain Soren. Apparently Bork was upset at being asked to play a fervent Communist, raising the question about why he auditioned for the role of a fervent Communist, but whatever he felt he gave a performance to be proud of. Ace lying in bed listening to a crying baby is truly chilling, and is followed immediately by Petrossian being clobbered by something that comes out of the sea – this mystery is reaching critical mass. However, I should say that the new 5.1 surround mix replaces his scream with a different one that doesn’t sound half as good as before.

The exchange between the vicar and Miss Hardaker is a brilliantly written one, with Wainwright’s doubts introduced early on without being rubbed in the audience’s face. Unfortunately Jean does not convince as a Londoner, although I’m more inclined to think that Joanne Bell as Phyllis is speaking with her natural accent – which in turn sounds weird when she is eventually turned into an Haemovore, possibly because of the traditional image of the erudite, upper-class vampire. The line of “Maidens’ Point? Well, that rules us out” shocked me a lot when I heard it, as it’s really not what I expect from an original series story; indeed it has only just been added to the DVD as its inclusion in the 1991 video release would have meant a 12 rating. If this was a Russell T. Davies episode I’d be lashing into him right now – but if this was a Davies episode that would have been the third such gag so far (I know, cheap shot).

The ULTIMA machine is very impressive but the thought that it can translate Viking runes is rather implausible and almost spoils things until you remember that these runes were cut specifically for use in the machine, as their translation facilitates the release of Fenric. This is followed by the Doctor revealing to Ace that there’s been subsidence in a grave – the implication is clear, but rather than darkly dwell on it (“something’s been moving under there…”) the Doctor cracks a witticism about Communion wine. This means the subtle implication is left to linger in the mind unaided, adding to the atmosphere, and it also shows that the Doctor knows what’s going on but isn’t telling. The fact that we can’t trust the Doctor adds greatly to the sense of unease, and Ace forlornly reading off a list of the dead Vikings is wonderfully atmospheric. 

The sense that the Doctor is leading the audience behind is heightened when he finds the sealed orders from Russia (which the Commandos would really like to get back) but refuses to explain what they are or what they mean – the audience is left to make their own conclusions when it is revealed that they share chilling parallels with the runes in the church crypt. The first scene with Millington in his office is almost dialogue free, showing how much the music adds to the atmosphere: Mark Ayres is the one person I can think of who can make synthesiser music work in a period setting. The aforementioned translation of the runes is as spooky and atmospheric as everything else, and would make a great poem if a bit of creative editing was done on it. The scenes where it is read are helped greatly by cutting to the runes or to the unique underwater photography (okay not quite unique as Paradise Towers had some, and so did Warriors Of The Deep etc…but who cares about them?); this is much more interesting than merely lingering on the reader, and shows what a good director Nicholas Mallet can be. In fact, it almost makes up for him allowing us to see “PEX LIVES” written on the wall too early in Paradise Towers.

Next we see the dead Russian soldier under the water, which is one of this story’s several nightmare moments. However, my marginally stronger constitution now allows me to look at the scene a bit more closely and you can definitely see his eyes move. Then again, paint my face white, immerse me in water and tell me to play dead and my eyes’d probably move too. That or I’d die. I say paint my face white: he was a black man apparently, and they did a reverse minstrel on him to get that ultra-realistic “deathly pallor” look. Tasteful.

Cory Pulman makes a pleasing impression as the hard done by Kathleen Dudman, although the baby’s Superted toy is the kind of anachronism you’d think someone would have noticed. Also, for Aaron Hanley (who’ll be around sixteen at the time of writing), being able to say he’s been in Doctor Who at a time when the show is quite well-regarded and mainstream again carries less street cred than you’d first think when you consider he’s playing Sophie Aldred’s mother. Alfred Lynch is also good as Millington; I didn’t react well to his deadpan character at first, but it has grown on me a lot over the years.

Into part two, and the drowned soldier waking up is the moment that freaked me out the most as a youngster, and therefore is my candidate for Doctor Who’s scariest ever moment for the default reason that it’s the moment that scared me the most. QED. However, the close up of the Haemovore’s hand looks very fake and rubbery – you can even see the bubbles escaping through the hole in the glove. They definitely work better in long shots. Fenric getting round the Doctor’s plan of giving the translation to Dr Judson by burning new ones into the wall is a great plot device, but I do feel it could have been better explained as it took me years to work out what was going on in this story. I’m alright now, I understand it because I’ve had so many years to think about it, but looking at it objectively I have to criticise it. I’m no fan of crass exposition, but sometimes the plot is a little too cryptic for its own good. It does lead to a nice revelation from the Doctor though, about nine hundred year old runes that weren’t there before (although wouldn’t Judson have noticed too?).

Nurse Crane is a great character. Making someone annoying is a difficult task for a writer and actress as they can’t genuinely irritate the audience; the viewer must like being annoyed by them to feel an appropriate level of schadenfreude at their eventual demise. Here this works very well. Ace’s anger at the poison (glowing green, naturally – my earlier comment about The Empty Child succumbing to simulacra applies here to an extent) is rather poorly acted, letting the side down a bit. However, Aldred makes up for this with the lovely scene where she comforts Wainwright over his loss of faith, which also has a parallel with The Empty Child. The ULTIMA machine is booby trapped with a big green bottle of poison in full view, which is rather silly, although it does lead to an amazing scene where Millington reveals to the Doctor exactly how the toxin will be released. The Discontinuity Guide asks how the Russians expect to get away with the ULTIMA machine in their little dinghies: firstly Millington suggests that they only want a part of it, and in any case unless they rowed all the way from Norway it’s safe to assume that they have some transport waiting somewhere, out at sea.

I’m still not sure how Millington and Judson know about Fenric. Then again there’s a lot I don’t understand about this story; it is ripe for fan speculation, which is always a laugh (except when it gets out of hand). My theory is that Fenric implanted the knowledge in their heads, since he’s been manipulating their entire lives.

More atmosphere (yes, more) comes when Jean and Phyllis are swallowed by the sea. They work much better as zombies (apart from the aforementioned accent) as there’s less call for them to be naturalistic, which really isn’t their strength. Here’s another interesting nugget: when the Doctor tells Kathleen he doesn’t know if he has family, she replies “it’s the war isn’t it? It must be terrible not knowing” to which he replies “yes”. This takes on a double meaning in light of the new series…maybe there was trouble brewing even at this stage in his life. Nice bit of retro-active continuity there. You’ll have to excuse me one moment as my head appears to have become lodged in my bottom, but I think I’m alright now.

Ace explains to Judson about the logic diagram, which is the closest we get to some proper exposition. Come to think about it season 26 is full of complicated plots – apart from Ghost Light (which needs no mention) there’s the ambiguous link between the Cheetahs and their planet in Survival, and Battlefield which is just generally garbled. The Haemovores also appear properly now – they are well designed, costumed and shot which is reflected in the fact that like the Zygons they are popular monsters despite only having one appearance in the show.

Into part three and it’s raining all of a sudden. Since the changing weather was by necessity worked into the plot I really don’t have a problem with it and I think its weirdness adds a lot. In fact, the special edition’s regrading process takes something away because although the faded colours are there the light and shade is still that of bright sunshine, so if anything it looks even less realistic. What’s the problem with it being rainy while the sun is shining? That happens. There wouldn’t be rainbows if it didn’t. I’m waffling again, aren’t I? The Haemovores marching along the foggy beach look wonderful.

The scene where Kathleen rebukes Ace for suggesting she’s an unmarried mother is a good one; Ace often puts her foot in it in period stories but here it feels natural and a mistake that could genuinely be made, as opposed to calling a nineteenth century gentleman “bog brain”. The later scene when she learns of her husband’s presumed death is also brilliantly acted.

The curse being passed down through the generations taps into a derivative but successful idea that mankind is being manipulated, although it does raise the question of whether there’s a conflict of interest between Fenric and the Fendahl. Next we come to the famous battle in the church. This is pretty ordinary, with the seeping water being unimaginative nonsense, and is only really notable for the reappearance of Ace’s ladder last seen in Ian Briggs’s previous story Dragonfire. While it worked in such a silly story as that, it feels like too much of a contrivance in a more realistic story here and also shows how elements of Ace’s character were not built upon by other writers. It is notable that we get more “professor” lines here than in any story since Dragonfire too.

Eeeeeevil, eeeeevil since the dawn if tiiiiiime! It’s a well written scene, but Sylvester McCoy is floundering hopelessly. It’s a shame as it’s potentially a good scene as well as being an important one for the plot, but all people do is laugh at it. Ace manipulating the soldier is a disappointing scene though, and possibly the worst of the story. She’s there talking utter gibberish, and this highly trained soldier’s standing their lapping it up. Sorry, I don’t buy that. After this the word ‘Ingiga’ comes out of the ULTIMA machine – it took a long time to work out that Ingiga refers to “the great wyrm” or something like that, and so here probably refers to the Ancient One. The cliffhanger is great, if slightly cheesy, but it loses something in the feature version as all the build up comes to naught. Much as I like the feature version it’s not perfect – while I appreciate having to edit the episodes into one for timing reasons some of the cut outs could have been better left out, such as lingering shots of people sitting or walking that add nothing to the story. Fenric’s teleporter is a great special effect though. 

Ace’s cry of “Mum, I’m sorry!” is a good subtle moment of characterisation, and is soon followed by a well directed sequence where the soldiers shoot at Phyllis and Jean. Fenric’s “eulogy” shows a villain with a black and twisted sense of humour, which is very rare and makes it such a great villain. Nurse Crane’s death is deeply disturbing, helped by Landen’s unsettling smile; the guest cast of this story have a fairly high mortality rate of 64.7%, and these deaths are the deaths of real, fleshed out characters. Phyllis’s and Jean’s deaths are also good, and the Ancient One comes across as a very sympathetic character. I like the shock of Fenric passing into Soren after being defeated at chess (yes that’s derivative too but it’s still pretty stylish). My only gripe is that Fenric keeps going round with his eyes shut.

The revelation that the baby is Ace’s mother is great, although the flashbacks added to the feature version are unnecessary and overstate the point. The Doctor’s dark betrayal is another great moment, as McCoy seizes the opportunity to play to his strengths. The notion that Fenric has been following the Doctor’s travels affecting the chess set in Silver Nemesis gives the McCoy years a proto-Bad Wolf set up, which is nice. My only gripe with the ending is that Fenric is killed so easily; okay so Soren’s body is killed but does Fenric die so easily when deprived of a host? That’s disappointing. Also, the bunker exploding for no good reason is melodramatic and should surely release the poison. The final scene is beautiful, but again the feature version (through necessity of some technical problem) cuts out the Doctor’s final line. This is a disappointment, although it’s still a great sentiment to end on.

The Curse Of Fenric is very nearly perfect, and the teeny, tiny flaws I’ve mentioned can’t diminish its greatness at all. This story defined my childhood terrors and as such affects me deeply – therefore, ironically in such a long review (3070 words), I find it quite hard to sum up quickly. Therefore, I’ll end with a message to all the parents who complained that The Unquiet Dead was too scary: your kids may have sleepless nights now, but in ten years time they’ll never get enough of it.





FILTER: - Television - Seventh Doctor - Series 26

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Friday, 24 March 2006 - Reviewed by Paul Clarke

Ten years after ‘Doctor Who’ disappointed legions of fans, Doctor Who finally returned to our screens in a blaze of publicity that is almost unnerving. With Queer as Folk writer and Doctor Who fan Russell T. Davies at the helm, I was hugely optimistic about the new series for the eighteen month period between the announcement of the series return and the broadcast of the first episode, especially having read Davies’ New Adventure ‘Damaged Goods’. Nevertheless, I found myself wracked with doubt and worry about viewing figures, press reaction, public opinion, whether or not there would be a second series, whether or not the associated merchandise would be any good, what impact the series would have on the regular range of Doctor Who novels, and perhaps most importantly, whether or not it would be shite. My excitement built once more when casting news was revealed, clips started getting aired on television and I started to see photographs of amusing blue monsters with bitch tits, but ultimately it wasn’t until I sat down and watched ‘Rose’, the first episode of the new series that I was finally able to decide what I thought about the new series.

‘Rose’ is visually one of the most striking episodes of Doctor Who I have ever seen. This is largely due to director Keith Boak, who provides a narrative pace many times faster than any previous Doctor Whoepisode, a stark reminder that the series hasn’t been made by the BBC for sixteen years and that television is not what it used to be. A lot of character interaction happens during forty-five minutes, and there are numerous fast cuts between scenes, as well as various showy camera shots. The opening shot of a star field before the camera zooms in on Earth and then rushes down into London grabs the attention immediately, by dint of being rather dizzying, especially when the image on the screen comes to rest on Rose’s bedside clock. This is followed by speeded-up footage of London during the evening rush hour, none of which is new to television, but all of which is new to Doctor Who. Mercifully however, Boak has enough restraint that the episode doesn’t suffer unduly from the bane of modern television drama, very short scenes. The scene in which Rose follows the Doctor out of her house and pesters him for answers sees the pair walking towards a retreating camera, but the scene is a complete piece of work, with the pair talking throughout and no sudden cuts to other characters in different situations. We get this later of course, but the focus of the story is on the fledgling relationship between the pair and everything else remains secondary, and the direction reflects this. Also worthy of note is the early scene in which Rose finds herself surrounded by Autons in the basement, which manages to be compellingly creepy. Incidentally, it is rather ironic that given the budget spent upon the series, the Autons lookexactly like modern shop manikins and thus less alien and somehow cheaper than they used to. In time honored tradition, the episode also benefits from some nice location work, with the shots of the London Eye being especially effective in creating the much vaunted British feel for which the series is known. My only real criticism of the actual production is the often intrusive incidental score, which isn’t anywhere near as bad as the excesses of Keff McCulloch, but is still irritating. 

But what of the actual story? I would discuss the plot of ‘Rose’ at this point, except that amusingly it hasn’t got one. This isn’t a criticism as such, because the episode has another agenda upon which it concentrates, but for an episode that has an incredibly fast pace by the standards of the old series, bugger all actually happens. For the second time in the series history, an invasion of Earth by the Nestene Consciousness is used to provide a back drop for introducing a new incarnation of the Doctor, and the premise is largely identical to that of ‘Spearhead from Space’, right down to killer shop window dummies coming to life. It’s worth pointing out that the premature ejaculation of the episode onto the internet has resulted in its widespread dissection even prior to transmission, and one major criticism seems to be the deus ex machina ending involving the anti-plastic. Which can be interpreted as a nod to the deus ex machina ending of ‘Spearhead from Space’ involving the UHF transmitter; the observant will notice that in both stories, the Doctor provides the means of defeating the Nestene Consciousness, but ends up being restrained and is dependent upon the plucky new companion to intervene and save his life. 

What Davies realizes, and what Philip Segal et al sadly failed to realize, is that the best way to appeal to a new audience is to assume that the viewers no nothing. Whereas ‘Doctor Who’ opened with a strange little man in a police box flying through space reading self-indulgently ironic literature, ‘Rose’ opens with the titular (no pun intended) Ms. Tyler finding the everyday and mundane world around her slowly giving way to the weird and disturbing. Davies uses Rose in the traditional companion manner, and she is very much the point of audience recognition. And this is the primary function of the slightly plotted ‘Rose’, as the audience is introduced to the Doctor via a character rooted in reality. Rose works extremely well; bearing in mind that the last proper companion that the Doctor had on television was the spectacularly unconvincing Ace, Rose is a thoroughly believable character, a working class London shop assistant, with a rough old slapper for a mother and a uninspiring relationship with her boyfriend. Davies could quite easily have made her more eccentric or iconoclastic, but this would have missed the point; she’s deliberately ordinary, because it makes her juxtaposition with the Doctor all the more striking. On the other hand, she’s also likeable and strong enough to cope in a crisis, and contrasts nicely with boyfriend Mickey who is reduced to cowering in abject terror when faced with the Nestene Consciousness. 

The casting of Billie Piper in the role worried me immensely when I first heard about it, mainly because I’d only seen her in The Canterbury Tales, which was admittedly quite promising but wasn’t enough to stop memories of her execrable pop career making me feel queasy. In fact, she’s perfectly cast as Rose; she conveys the characters initial confusion at her encounter with Autons and Doctor in the basement of the department store in which she works, and continues to express a convincing amount of bewilderment as the Doctor continues to intrude into her life dropping bombshells of information about living plastic and dimensionally transcendental vehicles. But she isn’t stupid either; she has the intelligence to find out more about the Doctor via the internet, and despite initially dismissing Clive as a “nutter”, she doesn’t wallow in denial for long, especially as the Doctor quickly reappears, rips her ersatz boyfriend’s head off, and then whisks her into the TARDIS. There is an especially nice moment when the Doctor quickly ushers her into asking the obvious questions, and then when she chokes back a sob he gently tells her, “That’s OK. Culture shock. Happens to the best of us.” This is followed by a great moment, in which both Rose and the audience are reminded that the Doctor doesn’t automatically react like a human would, as he forgets Mickey, to Rose’s fury. Piper gets just the right amount of emotion into the line, “I’ll have to tell his mother he’s dead, and you just forgot him, again.” Crucially however, for all of the death and destruction that she either witnesses or unwillingly flirts with, Rose seems to be enjoying herself; the scene in which she swings to the rescue on a length of chain like a blonde Mrs. Peel demonstrates that she’s brave enough to fight the inevitable monsters (again, compare with Mickey, who is scratching at the TARDIS doors), and the final shot of the episode as she runs grinning in slow motion towards the TARDIS doors is marvelous. 

Of course the question remains, what about the Doctor? I was no more expecting Christopher Eccleston to be cast as the Ninth Doctor than I was Paul McGann to be cast as the Eighth back in 1996, but whereas I could immediately see McGann in the role, I couldn’t begin to imagine how Eccleston would step into the role. The answer it seems is in rather manic style; the Ninth Doctor is barking mad. From the moment that he offhandedly pulls Rose to safely, casually tells her, “Wilson’s dead”, and then plants a bomb in the middle of London, he grabs the attention. There are one or two moment during the episode when Eccleston is slightly too mannered (his delivery of “Run for your life” sounds extremely self-conscious), but he seems to become increasingly comfortable with the role as the episode progresses. At times he has enormous charisma, so that when he says to Rose, “They want to overthrow the human race and destroy you. Do you believe me?” she replies “No” and he points out, “But you’re still listening”, it’s easy to understand why. Eccleston’s grasp of comedy is also surprisingly good given his dramatic background; he does a better-than-should-be-possible job of attacking himself with a plastic hand, and delivers the line about the transmitter in a deadpan enough fashion that it makes the looming presence of the Millennium Wheel in the background genuinely amusing. In addition, Eccleston’s Doctor is undoubtedly one of the most manic, energetic to date, typified by Eccleston’s mad grin such as when Rose asks him “Is it always this dangerous?” and he cheerfully replies, “Yes it is.” Davies’ script gives us a Doctor whose mania is also punctuated by moments of real passion, and Eccleston conveys this well also; his impassioned defense to the Nestene Consciousness’ accusations is that of a man who is haunted by guilt (“I fought in the war! It wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t save your world, I couldn’t save any of them!”). The Doctor’s arrogance is also worth mentioning; he seems to delight in baffling Rose, firing rapid explanations at her and knowing full well that she won’t be expecting them (“Is that alright?”), and patronizing humanity on several occasions. I also like the fact that he says of the unarguably hostile Nestene Consciousness, “I’m not here to kill it, I have to give it a chance”, suggesting that whatever it might have done, he would at least like to try and find a peaceful solution. He is also utterly dismissive of the realistically traumatized Mickey (“He’s not invited”). At the end of the episode however, we see a more welcoming side to him; when Rose points out, “You were useless in there, you’d be dead without me”, he admits, “Yes I would. Thank you” and he has the air of a hopeful little boy seeking a playmate when he invites her to join him. There is a hint in ‘Rose’ for the long term fan that the Doctor has recently regenerated, as he inspects his face in a mirror in Rose’s house; if this is the case, it might be that the Ninth Doctor calms down as the series progresses, but as things stand, he’s at least as fast-paced as the direction. Nevertheless, he’s a captivating character. 

Of the other aspects of ‘Rose’, a few things should be mentioned. There is a seam of what is often described as post-modernism running throughout the episode, from the media awareness of the Doctor’s “He’s gay and she’s an alien” line to the nod to compensation culture, with Rose’s mum trying to persuade her to make a claim for trauma. Perhaps the most obvious sign that ‘Rose’ is set in the twenty-first century is the fact that she immediately searches for information about the Doctor on the internet (and Clive’s wife’s surprise that one of the readers of his website is female did not go unnoticed Russell!), and the use of the Doctor as a semi-mythical figure in human history is something that has previously been used with some success in the novels. Criticism has been leveled at the burping wheelie bin and the disembodied hand, but both of these raised a chuckle. Rather less forgivable is the Auton Mickey, largely due to the execution; it beggars belief that Rose takes so long to notice that Mickey is acting oddly when she returns to the car, especially as he looks like he’s been smeared with Vaseline and is grinning like an imbecile. This in turn leads to the restaurant scene, and whilst I love the Doctor posing as the waiter, the rest of the scene doesn’t hold up to scrutiny; if the Auton wants the Doctor dead, why doesn’t it use it’s wrist gun, and if not, why not? And why does it become so disorientated when the Doctor rips its head off, given that it’s a solid lump of plastic and none of the other Autons have proper eyes anyway? Mention of Mickey brings me to the guest cast; I enjoyed Mark Benton’s likeable performance as Clive, and he brought a sufficient amount of gravitas to the memorable line, “He has one constant companion… death”. As Rose’s Mum, Camille Coduri is adequate if unspectacular and she does get an inherently irritating role anyway (and why is she using a hairdryer when her hair looks dry already?). But the real weak link is Noel Clarke, who is utterly appalling as Mickey for at least the first half of the episode. He gets a bit better once Rose finds Mickey gibbering in the lair of the Nestene Consciousness, but for the most part his delivery is rather, as it were, plastic. 

Overall then, ‘Rose’ is flawed, but an interesting start to the new series, and one that has tremendous promise. Mention of the mysterious War, in which the Doctor apparently fought, smells to me like an intriguing plot thread to be picked up again in future episodes. And although I wasn’t wild about the idea of having a pre-end credits teaser for the following episode, it certainly whet my appetite for the next episode...





FILTER: - Series 1/27 - Ninth Doctor - Television

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Friday, 24 March 2006 - Reviewed by Brian DiPaolo

Doctor Who works well when it emphasizes the contrast between our everyday world and the Doctor’s bizarre existence. “Rose” nails this contrast nicely in its opening shot; we begin with the vastness of space, zoom in on Earth, and run straight into a bleeping alarm clock. It’s time for Rose Tyler, ordinary teenager, to go to her boring retail job. We see that the universe is a vast place, but not for her—at least, not yet. 

The following montage establishes that Rose’s life is okay, but not exactly fulfilling. Her boyfriend Mickey is affectionate, and he does funny dances, but he’s not enough to compensate for the tedium of her daily routine. Rose’s mother Jackie, seen lounging on the couch in sweats and dialing up her gossipy friends, is not much of an inspiration either.

It’s a great way to introduce a new companion, at least in theory; Russell T. Davies is preparing us for Rose’s decision to abandon everything (and everyone) and run off in the TARDIS. But right from the start, Davies holds back and compromises his attempts at deeper characterization and drama; we get a hint of what Rose’s life is like, but only a hint. Jackie and Mickey are to become vital parts of the storyline, but they leave no impression here, with rushed and largely silent introductions. Clips of the bored Rose are unwisely paired with sped-up shots of London and Murray Gold’s cheerful music, which undermine the feeling of stagnation that the sequence is trying to create. 

I want more. Since Rose’s domestic life is so central to the series, it needs to be explored in greater detail here, before the aliens show up.

That said, the aliens get a great introduction. I have a poor overall impression of Keith Boak’s directing, but he nails the moment when the Autons emerge from the shadows to attack Rose. It’s a good horror scene—and, frankly, it’s also the first scene that feels like “proper” Doctor Who rather than a music video. The creaking plastic sound effects are a nice touch, and help to make the Autons seem more real.

The Doctor’s introduction is also perfect. He grabs Rose at the last moment, leads her in a flight down a corridor, and starts merrily spouting techno-babble as soon as they reach safety. It’s like the original series was never gone. Christopher Eccleston and Davies have modernized the character’s costume and speech, but, for now, this is still the heroic and wacky and brilliant Doctor of old. Though there is a glibness and artificiality to his rapid-fire exchanges with Rose, they are genuinely clever (I like the students routine), and thankfully they stay on the topic of Autons; in future episodes, Rose becomes so jaded that she flirts with the Doctor and makes stupid jokes in the midst of mortal peril, which is of course ridiculous.

After Rose escapes and returns home, we learn more about her mother, who has the Triple Crown of unpleasant traits—vanity, cupidity, and stupidity. Davies seems to have fun patronizing this character, yet later on he grants her enormous importance. Again, I’m not sure that he’s using the best methods to reach his goals—am I actually supposed to like someone as self-absorbed and shrill as Jackie Tyler? At best she’s a funny sideshow, but that’s not good enough if I’m supposed to feel genuine sympathy for her.

I do smile, however, during the scene when Jackie tries to seduce the Doctor. It works because it’s a new kind of humor for the show. Unfortunately, Davies overplays his hand in future episodes and goes overboard on the juvenile innuendo. In fact, he has a tendency to repeat all of his jokes, good or bad. But they’re fine in “Rose” because they’re still fresh. I don’t even mind the deliberate camp when the Doctor is attacked by a plastic arm. I went along with it on a first viewing because, again, it was something new, and it’s actually a funny bit of business. Little did I realize that Davies was establishing the silly and decidedly non-threatening tone that would poison the bulk of his episodes.

With the arm defeated, the Doctor and Rose start talking exposition again. It’s odd that I initially considered this episode too fast-paced because, during this particular stretch, it’s more leisurely than most episodes of the original series. There are interesting elements to this scene, though, particularly the Doctor’s condemnation of humans as TV-watching slugs who are ignorant of the war raging around them. He could mean the Time War, but I think Davies is slipping in an oblique reference to the War on Terror. In fact, I think he’s making fun of us all for sitting around on our backsides and watching Doctor Who while the world burns (a theme he returns to in “The End of the World”). I’m not sure what to make of this, but it’s fun to speculate about it. Notice how Gold is trying much too hard to make this scene exciting with his inappropriate “thump-thump-thump-thump” music.

Davies’ silly sense of humor returns in full force with the introduction of Clive, a spoof of tubby Doctor Who fans who obsess too much about the series. There’s something annoying about this kind of in-joke; surely Davies qualifies as a Doctor Who obsessive himself, and, like a nasty troll on an Internet message board, he seems all the more pathetic for declaring his superiority to other fans. But I’m just talking trash now, because I actually like Clive. He serves his purpose of building up an aura of mystery around the Doctor. Some of his lines are heavy-handed and melodramatic, but that’s what Doctor Who is all about. Hands up everybody who wanted him to show Rose photos of previous Doctors…

Clive’s monologue about the Doctor as a harbinger of death is cleverly intercut with Mickey’s deadly struggle against the trashcan. Since I’m a Doctor Who nerd, though, I’m obliged to compare this scene to the one that inspired it—the infamous Auton couch murder from “Terror of the Autons.” That scene is played straight, and it’s fairly harrowing in its depiction of a nice character’s brutal death. In “Rose,” by way of contrast, we get a goofy Auton trash bin that belches after gobbling up its prey. While I don’t hate the burping bin as much as some fans, I don’t respect it either. It’s a bit funny and mildly creepy, but when the original series was at its best (as in both Auton episodes), it could be exceptionally creepy.

Once Mickey has been digested by the bin, he reappears as an obvious Auton duplicate. Why doesn’t Rose notice? On this point, I have no trouble suspending my disbelief. Mickey’s Auton makeup is exaggerated for effect, which is fine, and there’s really no reason why Rose should suspect he’s been replaced by a plastic clone. I also have no problem with the subsequent hi-jinks in the restaurant. Here, I think, Davies’ humor works; the short-circuiting Mickey and the Doctor’s fiddling with the champagne bottle are genuinely funny. I particularly love the moment when the Doctor, grinning like a maniac, holds out Mickey’s talking, disembodied head to a pair of clearly horrified witnesses. The Doctor is reveling in the freakishness of it all, and so am I.

The episode takes another downturn, though, when Rose enters the TARDIS. Producer Phil Collinson claimed that the new TARDIS interior would eclipse the obvious studio sets featured in the original series, but I’m afraid he was bragging without foundation. The new TARDIS still looks like a set, and it’s an ugly set to boot. I was intrigued by rumors that the interior would have an organic look (it was even suggested that it would be coral), but ultimately the production team went with a traditional metallic design, twisted into shapes that merely resemble something organic. I hate it. The console and its surrounding columns are like some freakish octopus-thing. And the color scheme is horrible—black, green, and orange? Paul McGann’s TARDIS set, though overdone, had a warmth and grandeur that this TARDIS can’t begin to approach. And, since the new TARDIS is obviously smaller than McGann’s, it hammers home that the 2005 series is a lower-budget production than the TV Movie. Terribly disappointing, I’m afraid, and we’re likely to be stuck with it for a long while.

On the subject of bragging, Davies said that Rose’s first look at the TARDIS was one of his favorite scenes in the series. While I can appreciate why he said this—her stunned reaction is dramatic—the scene is definitely too rushed to have the impact he attaches to it.

Fortunately, there’s another upswing in quality once the TARDIS lands on Tower Bridge. Eccleston plays the character with authority here, and even on a first viewing I was able to laugh at anti-plastic because I intuited that Davies was having fun with his little plot contrivance. I never believed, for a moment, that he would produce such tidy solutions to all of the Doctor’s future conflicts. In such a hectic episode as this, the anti-plastic is just a necessary step to keep things moving. One could hope for something better, of course, but then again the Doctor never comes up with a compelling or credible way to defeat the Autons, does he?

The Doctor and Rose descend into the Auton base, clearly one of Doctor Who’s most impressive locations. I’m not so enamored of the Nestene Consciousness, however, which is portrayed as a CGI lava face. Davies seems to have a fondness for CGI villains, but I don’t think they work. The Autons, like other rubber Doctor Who monsters, come across best with a human spokesperson as their leader, not a visual effect. It certainly doesn’t help that the Nestene’s dialogue is gibberish. I get the feeling that Davies was cutting corners here, saving himself the trouble of writing hardcore science fiction dialogue. All we hear is the Doctor’s end of the conversation, and much of what he says—some guff about warp shunt technology and constitutional rights—falls flat. How many of these lines are actually that interesting?

Negotiations with the Nestene Consciousness break down so quickly that the Doctor looks foolish for trusting it. He also looks ill prepared for the confrontation, as he is quickly incapacitated by just two Autons. I must admit, though, that it’s exciting when the Nestene sends out the invasion signal. The electrified Ferris wheel is a great image, right up there with the best surreal visuals from the original series.

Commence the Auton rampage. It’s a decent sequence, but again I have trouble with Gold’s music, which is catchy but over-the-top. Clive’s death has impact since he’s likable, and because it’s wonderfully ironic that the one man who was smart enough to notice the danger is the first to die when the aliens attack. Once he’s gone, though, it’s hard to care about what happens in or outside the mall. Boak does all right when he shows the mannequins smashing windows, but once they’re free, he resorts to fast cutting to conceal the fact that they’re not doing anything interesting. No one is shown being killed (not even Clive) and nothing really impressive is destroyed. And Jackie Tyler, that least sympathetic of characters, keeps screaming in close-up until you start rooting for the Autons to get her. Again, I’m forced to conclude that the parallel segment in the original series is much better—it’s better directed, better scored, more violent and more effective. I also don’t see much of a difference in budget between the original and the new series, since in both stories we only see the Autons on the march in a single location.

The Doctor continues to fare poorly as Boak cuts to him struggling vainly against the Autons—several times. Eccleston looks weak and desperate, which is not how I want to see the Doctor portrayed, even in a situation like this (especially in a situation like this, I should say). He is made to look impotent, of course, so Rose can become an action heroine and save the day herself. This is very reminiscent of the TV Movie, when Grace averts the end of the world by fiddling with wires as the Doctor bugs out under a blue spotlight. It’s bad writing in both cases, since neither resolution is satisfying. The trouble is that companions—including Rose—are not impressive or capable when compared to the Doctor, so it’s hard to contrive a way for them to excel. Here, we get Rose swinging on a chain like she’s Tarzan’s mate and knocking a couple of Autons into a vat of molten plastic. Like the anti-plastic contrivance, it’s fine, but not actually good.

The final scene sees Mickey, freshly rescued from the Nestenes, cringing at Rose’s feet like a dog. It’s one of many indignities the character must suffer; in later episodes, he can’t even walk down the street without tripping over his own feet. That’s a shame, because he’s infinitely more sympathetic than Jackie, and he deserves better treatment. Rose spurns him rather cruelly, essentially telling him “thanks for nothing” before she vanishes back into the TARDIS. It’s not a pleasant scene, despite her huge smile and dramatic slow-mo dash into the Doctor’s world. But, you know, I respect it—Davies allows me to feel uncomfortable at Rose’s treatment of Mickey and her mother, and I like that. Uncomfortable is definitely a new feeling for Doctor Who, and it’s good for the drama.

But there’s a lot going on here that’s not so good for the drama. Ultimately, “Rose” is too silly and rushed to succeed on a human-interest level. It works only as a fast-paced and fun introduction to some basic Doctor Who concepts and equally basic characters. Future episodes do build on its foundation, but not effectively; in fact, the problems with “Rose” only get worse, as the regular characters become gradually more developed but far less likeable. Still, for an action pilot, this hits close to mark. It’s not my idea of Doctor Who, but it is a reasonably good idea of Doctor Who. It’s just a shame that the rest of the season doesn’t live up to its promise.





FILTER: - Series 1/27 - Ninth Doctor - Television

Aliens of London / World War ThreeBookmark and Share

Friday, 24 March 2006 - Reviewed by Ed Martin

I should warn you at the beginning, if you’re a big Russell T. Davies fan: he’s not going to come out of this well.

Pathetic I know, but sometimes I feel personally hurt by this story; having spent almost all my life defending the show from my friends, who thought of it as a complete joke, Russell T. Davies comes along and proves them right. How could he do this to me? It stings doubly because this was also the first time where the bubble really burst and I realised the series wasn’t going to be the perfection I had been hoping. Maybe you could turn it round and say that I’m better off for seeing it and consequently getting a bit of a reality check, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve just had to sit through the bloomin’ thing again in order to review it.

I suppose it is good that some thought has gone into what Rose has left behind when the Doctor took her away, but it’s spoiled by the lack of thought that seems to have gone into other areas, like why everyone seems to have forgotten that shop window dummies suddenly sprang to life a year previously and killed a lot of people. That’s a big problem with Davies: he focuses on one area of an episode so that everyone coos over how intelligent and thoughtful he is, but then lets it down by neglecting some other area. The pre-titles sequence is at least quite well done though, linking between Rose in her flat and the Doctor in the yard outside.

The policeman asking Rose if her relationship with the Doctor is a sexual one is a very interesting moment as it shows Davies talking about sex in a way that seems totally appropriate to the narrative and not at all gratuitous; that is the kind of question that a policeman genuinely would ask her, so not only is it appropriate it’s quite correct. Davies brings innuendo into the series all too often, and it’s very rare that I end up praising it. Rose’s later line of “it’s so gay”, however, is quite different. It was included in the script simply to stir up trouble and get a reaction; it caused controversy at the time but I gave it the benefit of the doubt as I thought that Davies would have some kind of agenda, but when I found out that the agenda in question was simply to cynically provoke a reaction I lost all patience with him. The line is just presented starkly with no attempt to give it negative connotations, so an anti-homophobic agenda is a bit of a non-starter. Although I suppose if the Doctor had rebuked her for it people would react to that too, thinking Davies has turned the Doctor gay, so you just can’t win.

Forget my opinions about Davies for a moment, or even to an extent Keith Boak, as the spaceship crash looks absolutely great. It has a few flaws, like a lack of reaction shots from the crowd, the actual landing which isn’t the show’s best piece of special effects and the fact that nobody hears it coming until it zooms right over their head, despite it not only having roaring engines but also having a foghorn. Still, it’s still a great set piece and the shot of Big Ben getting smashed looks wonderful although it is spoiled by a totally unnecessary angle change from Boak, to whom fast, random, dizzying cuts are a particularly bad speciality. One thing to note is that the clock reads 10:55 when the ship strikes it but 6:10 when it appears on the news later: good old British workmanship eh? Big Ben keeps going even when an alien spaceship uncaps it like a boiled egg.

The party at Rose’s flat features some Goths as guests; maybe this is just my skewed perspective but they strike me as being somewhat incongruous in a council estate setting where such people would have a short life expectancy (oh, I’ve alienated a lot of people saying that, haven’t I? Never mind, so has Davies). The Goth girl is also the one who yells out to the Doctor “oi gawjus, come back an’ join da par’ay”, showing that Davies knows as much about Goths as he does about politics. The scene with the baby is daft but okay, but cutting to a cake spaceship is a classic example of the clever-clever metafictional elements that Davies scatters throughout his episodes that totally destroy the illusion. Rumour has it that he’s in a future episode carrying a billboard saying “this is just a TV show!”

After this the silliness comes thick and fast. Politicians are given comedy jobs; Harriet Jones is comic relief initially spouting her catchphrase “MP for Flydale North” again and again and again until people start saying it in their sleep; then of course there’s the farting, which is the moment that Davies really shows how little he respects a family audience. It truly pains me that a programme that once had characters talking in iambic pentameter (and getting nine million viewers for it before anyone accuses it of elitism) is now reduced to not just one but uncountable fart jokes. Even at its lowest ebb the original series never disrespected its audience to this degree. Why Davies seems to think that anyone is going to respond to such infantile writing is beyond me, but what is even more beyond me is that they do, with World War Three actually topping this in the ratings. The guffawing aliens seems to be an attempt at keying into an older, cheesier style of villain, just like the Dalek flying saucers key in to an older design of spaceship, but this is so ineptly done that like in Delta And The Bannermen the episode becomes what it attempts to riff off: namely, bad science fiction. I admit I sound patronising there, but I hate the thought that someone who reacts badly to such coarseness is an automatic humourless snob. Believe me, I react very well to humour. It’s just that this isn’t it.

The rest of the episode just keeps on annoying me, from the incredibly twee use of David Bowie’s ‘Starman’ on the soundtrack to Mickey’s embarrassing pratfall when the TARDIS dematerialises (which incidentally takes too long, so the visuals don’t match the sound effects), to the Doctor using a mallet on the console. Sorry, I know I’m being harsh, but they put someone in charge of the show who is simply not taking his job seriously, at least when it comes to this episode.

At least Navin Chowdry is a good actor, transforming a scene with his reactions when in the background. In fact a lot of the guest cast are very good here, such as David Verrey, Penelope Wilton and (particularly) Annette Badland, but their characters are so annoying (Harriet Jones to a lesser extent, bit still a little bit) that it counts for naught. At least Noel Clarke’s on hand to save the day, maintaining some charisma in the face of idiot pratfalls.

The escape of the space pig is dramatic at first, until we actually see the pig. Possibly this was an attempt to replicate the success of Mr. Sin from The Talons Of Weng-Chiang, but instead of being creepy it just ends up ludicrous. It could have been creepy if it was better done, but unfortunately Jimmy Vee in a pig suit just doesn’t convince. The dry, rubbery mask just doesn’t convince and no attempt to make anything other than the head and hands look like a pig has been made. In short, it looks like what it is: a small guy in a pig suit. And then Davies expects me to get emotional over it.

The scene where the three Slitheen line up and fart in front of Asquith while grinning inanely is my candidate for Doctor Who’s worst ever moment, which even now makes me cringe even though I’ve watched it several times. I’m just thankful that I’ve never seen this episode in the company of others – that’s definitely a moment to get the dog to “accidentally” tread on the fast forward button. The head zips are more tweeness that help shatter the illusion, although the bright blue glow helps obscure it a bit.

Note that the handrail in the TARDIS wobbles when Rose grabs it – I love stuff like that happening in the new series, as it counteracts the smugness of people who laugh at the original.

The scene where Jackie grasses up the Doctor shows that this is actually quite a well paced episode (just a shame that the content being paced is so naff), with the Doctor’s trip to the hospital neatly leading on to the next stage. The mystery of what the aliens have been doing is also good, but highlights how disappointing the story is as it has a very strong core idea and could have been very good.

The “wife, mistress and young farmer” line is Davies again at his most smarmy – the policeman’s question earlier on was appropriate to the story but when an innuendo is devoid of any relevance to the plot it becomes mere attention seeking. The gas exchange explanation for the farting doesn’t quite cut it with me – okay so there’s an explanation for it, but why can’t the exchangers just work properly? Then the Slitheen could at least claim to have a veneer of credibility. Apart from that is the fact that green aliens hiding inside human suits it taken wholesale from City Of Death, where it was done much better and the DVD of which ironically features Steven Moffatt talking (correctly) about the importance of taking the monsters seriously. I know City Of Death raises the question of how the Jagaroth can fit inside human skins but if the answer to that involves them breaking wind at every opportunity then I can live with the dramatic licence, thanks.

The Slitheen, when they emerge, look dreadful – stupid comedy monsters with baby faces, pot-bellies and bad posture. I’ll take the underrated Zarbi over the Slitheen; they may look dated now, but at least people where actually trying back then instead of hurling money at the show until it makes itself. What galls me also is the fact that the new series is capable of making such fantastic monsters (the Reapers), so these look like they do deliberately. When monsters failed in the original series at least you could put it down to budget constraints, but the Slitheen look exactly as they are intended to look and I find that very sad. I have to say, while I’ve seen praise for them on the Internet I’ve never met anyone in the flesh who actually liked the Slitheen. The special effects of their emergence from their skins look awful and fake, although like the wobbling handrail this does at least provide me with some ammo against people who laugh at the effects of the original series. The three Slitheen emerging at the same time in separate places show a completely artificial set up for a cliffhanger, which when it happens is distinctly ordinary. The “next time” trailer has been criticised so much I don’t need to go into it here.

Fortunately, World War Three is a bit better than the dreadful Aliens Of London and (just about) saves the story from a bottom rating. The resolution of the cliffhanger makes no sense though – so all the power transmits to other Slitheen through gas exchangers, does it? This demonstrates Davies penchant for grabbing whatever random sci-fi device comes along and turning it round to suit him regardless of it’s plausibility – see also The Christmas Invasion, where the Sycorax leader happens to be standing on the exact spot on the ship that can be collapsed by a carefully thrown satsuma. Funny thing though, but doesn’t Christopher Eccleston sound like Paul McGann when he says “deadly to humans, maybe”? Listen and hear it for yourself.

We get to see the Slitheen for all their rubbishness: the costumes look as rubbery and artificial as the pig’s and the CGI versions look too cartoony, as well as failing to match the costume-versions’ movements. Both, I should say, are largely down to the way Boak shoots them as the look improves dramatically when Joe Ahearne shoots them for Boom Town. There is no dignity to this episode at all, especially when they wobble about trying to get back into their human suits – and it’s all deliberate. It is quite unbelievable. However, I do like the look of anger that Verrey flashes Rupert Vansittart as Asquith when he tells the guards to take their orders directly from him.

The Doctor defeats a Slitheen with a fire extinguisher, Rose drops a curtain on one of their heads and Harriet Jones screams “noooooo!”. Yes folks, we have something falling somewhat short of the show’s most dynamic action scene. However, the fact that the Slitheen are a family answers a question about why the Slitheen have no nuclear weapons of their own (it doesn’t forgive ripping the plot off The Dominators though). However, Harriet’s rebuke to the Doctor for passing the port to the right is actually a good joke, having a bit of style at odds with the rest of the story (my word, I’m such a snob. Oh well, nobody’s perfect, but at least I know a good episode of Doctor Who when I see it). For every god moment though there’s a bad one to cancel it out, such as the unfunny moment where human skins are hung on coat hangers.

The Doctor’s quiet apology to the dead Indra Ganesh is a good moment though, as understatement is the way emotion should be done. Having said that I do like Father’s Day and emotion is hardly understated there so let me put it another way – it should be understated when done by Davies as he has a tendency to splatter his scripts with trite and cheesy platitudes, such as in the café scene in The Parting Of The Ways. Here, though, it works well. The “buffalo” password on the UNIT site is unbelievably stupid plotting, and when the Slitheen explodes through having picked eggs thrown at it I have to ask myself how thick Davies thinks his audience is.

The Doctor gags at the port (despite claims to have drunk earlier with Lloyd George), which is a great little moment of characterisation, helped by the fact that it’s so fleeting because of a quick cutaway. Keith Boak does good camerawork in the same way that someone playing Pin The Tail On The Donkey will occasionally, quite by chance, hit it right on the spot.

“Massive weapons of destruction”. Please, someone make it stop.

The resolution is, you guessed it, rubbish with Mickey hacking into (for the purposes of new viewers) a random fictional website and launching a missile at 10 Downing Street from his home computer. Davies’s strengths, such as his skill in characterising Rose, just don’t cut it in the face of such ridiculousness. Also annoying is the hint of a swear word from the Slitheen, because of the continued “tee hee, we’re doing this because we can get away with it” attitude of the writer. I’m glad it’s nearly over though (what if Margaret Blaine teleported into a chip shop? There’d be no Boom Town so we’d all be better off.

At least the ending, with the “ten seconds” moment, is pretty good in a sombre and sad way that contrasts with the silliness of earlier. The cover-up idea is implausible though – so what, a student prank? And they murdered the prime minister just for an extra hint of realism. It’s not relevant to anything, but I’ve got the same coffee mugs as Jackie (bet that caught you off guard).

The fact that World War Three isn’t quite as dreadful as Aliens Of London just saves this from a one-star rating, but only just. It totally sums up everything that is wrong with Davies’s writing: it takes all the shaky plotting, silly comedy characters, annoying satire, smut and innuendo and multiplies them; in short, despite not being the worst episode of the series (that thorny crown goes to Boom Town) this is still a poor, poor example of Doctor Who.





FILTER: - Series 1/27 - Ninth Doctor - Television

Spearhead From SpaceBookmark and Share

Friday, 24 March 2006 - Reviewed by Scott Moore

Spearhead from Space' is an enjoyable and stylish start to the Pertwee era. The story not only successfully introduces the main character traits of the new Doctor, but also makes a clean break from the 1960s era of the television programme. Fine performances from most of the cast, excellent directing, the extensive location filming, a good script, and numerous touches of humour combine to create an entertaining and not-entirely-unconvincing story despite the B-movie plot it partly shares with the 1966 film 'Invasion'.

Whereas much of 1960s Doctor Who feels like televised theatre (or, at its worst, pantomime), 'Spearhead from Space' is a more of a movie on the small screen. The serial clearly benefits from being recorded on film with a considerable amount of shooting on location. But it also has a faster pace than earlier Doctor Who and more creative camera work.

Jon Pertwee does a good job of portraying his new character despite having relatively little dialogue in the first half of the story. His Doctor is clearly more action-oriented even than his immediate predecessor, still eccentric but softened by a debonair charm. The only fault I can find with Pertwee's performance is that he occasionally resorts to clownish grimaces – witness his facial expressions when shot at the end of episode one, or when attacked by the tentacles in episode four. Nicholas Courtney also puts in a convincing turn as the Brigadier, who although clearly a man-in-charge can be diplomatic and is open to suggestions. Of the regular cast, only Caroline John fails to convince in her role but this is partly the fault of the script, which fails to supply dialogue that portrays her as the experienced and well-qualified scientist she is meant to be. Because she is a woman she is soon shoe-horned into the role of pretty, young assistant for the much older Doctor. Still, her initial air of arrogance and clear displeasure at the Brigadier's sexist comments marks her as a more mature and realistic character than most of the previous female companions.

The supporting characters are generally well-served both by the script and the actors. Hugh Burden is excellent in his portrayal of an outwardly human character with a disturbing and somewhat chilling mien. Anthony Webb supplies a convincing Dr. Henderson, while John Breslin manages to rise above the usual stereotypes for his second-in-command Captain Munro. Both John Woodnut and Derek Smee are also fairly successful at avoiding typical B-movie characterisation, despite one or two lapses. Unfortunately, the characters of Sam Seeley and his wife Meg seem to have been left over from an early script for 'Invasion' (presumably) supplied to Hammer films

The locations are generally used to good effect by the director. The plastics factory is entirely plausible and even the BBC building is passable as UNIT headquarters. I wasn't convinced, though, by the hospital interior, which with its surfeit of wood panelling looks more like a country hotel. On the other hand, the special effects and some of the design work is rather poor. Applying paint to the faces of the actors portraying certain of the autons works surprisingly well, but the plastic faces of the others are a little too crude and the eye holes are inexplicable (except, of course, to enable the actors to see where they are going). Furthermore, when Channing orders, ''total destruction'' I expected something more spectacular to happen to the victims of the autons' weapons than simply to disappear between frames. Still, the scene where the shop-dummy autons awaken and attack the terrified inhabitants of London is handled well enough to instil some suspense to the proceedings. The shot of the Nestene pods descending to earth is mercifully brief, but alas those green, rubber tentacles are allowed to writhe around for far too long. Given the fact that they are totally unnecessary to the plot, and Jon Pertwee's accompanying facial expression is so ludicrous, they take the prize for comic low-budget production moment of the story.





FILTER: - Television - Third Doctor - Series 7

Arc of InfinityBookmark and Share

Friday, 24 March 2006 - Reviewed by Jason Wilson

Not one of the more popular Davison tales, this one. Having re-watched it recently, though, I'm not quite sure why it gets panned as much as it does. Certainly it brings back Omega without adding much to his character or pathos, and it's part of the much derided old-monster-fest-instead-of-fresh-ideas phase of the series but it is, nonetheless, quite a solid story. 

Admittedly, the bringing back back to gallifrey in criminal mode only to become a hero bit feels at first like an inferior retread of the Deadly Assassin especially when the game of who's-the-traitor starts (for Hedin read Goth), but there is a different spin on it here- and the detective work by Tegan in Amsterdam keeps things fresh and gives her character a chance to shine. Davison and Nyssa make a good opening team and Nyssa's battles (with tongue and gun!) give her some strong stuff also. The unravelling of the aborted termination of the Doctor makes for an intrgiuing third episode and the Doctor-Omega finale is solid. Yes, the chase basically shows off the location, but so does some stuff in City of Death and that doesn't get hauled over the coals for it. 

It the story lacks anything it's really directorial flair- Something often happening in this 20th season alas. Ron Jones does a competent job, but he had yet to really find his feet- his work on Frontios and Vengeance on Varos would outstrip this by miles. Davison's acting often lends a flair and pace that the direction simply lacks, as if compensating- though having said that the darkly-lit Omega scenes in parts one and two look very impressive. 

Was bringing Omega back worth it? maybe, maybe not- Rassilon might have been a better story subject as we know a lot less about him bar what the New Adventures and Big Finish audios have filled in, and good as they often are, I don't know whether non-TV stuff can really be canonical as the TV series reserves a perfect right to disregard it as it did with The Ancestor Cells' Gallifrey demise. (OK, so I know as far as they knew at he time there never would another TV series, but now there is!We could say canonical till proven otherwise?) Nonetheless they could have picked a worst subject. As part of season 20 this pales beside Snakedance, or Enlightnment, or Mawdryn Undead, but compared with Terminus, Kings Demons, the preceding Time Flight etc...it's really not so bad. Yes, a steal from ASSASSIN in places, but a lot of WHO plots are recycled- and this does enough of its own stuff to stay fresh. An entertaining and underrated story.





FILTER: - Television - Series 20 - Fifth Doctor