Doctor Who Story 025: The Gunfighters

STORY 025: THE GUNFIGHTERS

Don't Shoot, I'm The Doctor...

Talk about Cowboys & Aliens.

The four-part story collectively known as The Gunfighters isn't the first time Doctor Who has ventured into the past.  It is, however, the first time the Doctor has ventured onto American soil, specifically into the Old West (and curiously, he would not return to the American West until Day of the Moon Parts 1 & 2, some forty-five years later).  The Gunfighters has the honor of being the last Doctor Who story to have individual titles for each episode within the story (the next story, the now-lost four-part The Savages, had Part 1, Part 2, etc., a tradition that remained throughout the classic series but was abandoned in the revived series with one exception as of the time of this writing: the final David Tennant story being called The End of Time Parts 1 & 2).  It was, as they say, a good try, a good effort for something different, something new.  However, The Gunfighters almost from the get-go is just a bad, bad story altogether that it almost ends up a shame that it has survived while others are now Lost In Time. 

The Doctor (William Hartnell), and his Companions Dodo Chaplet (Jackie Lane) and Steven Taylor (Peter Purves) have landed in the Wild West right before the famous Gunfight at the O.K. Corral.  The Doctor is in desperate need of a dentist owning to a toothache caused by some candy left over from The Celestial Toymaker.  As it so happens, Tombstone does have a dentist, one Doc Holliday (Anthony Jacobs), who treats the Doctor for free (being his first patient and all).  The Doctor, Dodo, and Steven tell the law authorities, one Sheriff Wyatt Earp (Victor Carin) and Marshall Bat Masterson (Richard Beale) that they are travelling performers: cowboy singer Steven Regret with Dodo as the piano player and the Doctor as Doctor Caligari.  The Clanton Brothers/gang, having arrived in Tombstone, mistake The Doctor for Doc Holliday. 

At first Doc uses this as a way out, but his girlfriend, Last Chance Saloon dance-hall girl Kate Fisher (Sheena Marshe) helps the Doctor escape by getting the gang to think he IS Doc Holliday (which affords the Doctor the protection of jail and Doc a chance to escape).  However, the Clantons have Steven as a hostage and Doc has Dodo as a hostage as well.  Enter into the mix the master bandit Johnny Ringo (Laurence Payne), who has joined forces with the Clantons to settle his own score with Holliday.  After nearly lynching Steven and Dodo getting Doc to return her (and himself) to Tombstone, the fabled Gunfight at the O.K. Corral takes place.  Once all the shooting is done, the travellers leave the Wild West for another adventure.

In the four episodes for The Gunfighters (A Holiday for The Doctor, Don't Shoot the Pianist, Johnny Ringo, and The O.K. Corral), we are treated to many things, none of them good.  Let me start with perhaps one of the worst things in The Gunfighters (if not the whole of Doctor Who): The Ballad of the Last Chance Saloon.

I figure writer Donald Cotton was inspired by the 1952 film High Noon when he came up with The Ballad of the Last Chance Saloon.  Like in the classic Western, the song plays throughout all four episodes of The Gunfighters.  HOWEVER, what neither Cotton or director Rex Tucker (who both co-wrote the lyrics with the music by Tristam Cary) understood is that Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling was used sparingly in High Noon, while The Last Chance Saloon was played incessantly.  I don't know if anyone else has gone through the trouble of counting the number of times The Last Chance Saloon was played in The Gunfighters, but I did.  The number I counted was...drum roll please...THIRTY-FOUR.  That's right: The Last Chance Saloon was sung 34 times over the course of an hour and forty minutes.  Breaking it down, that would mean hearing the song an average of once every THREE MINUTES.  How people with any kind of experience failed to understand that hearing the same song every three minutes would drive audiences crazy I simply don't understand.   I can even break it down for you by episodes:

A Holiday For The Doctor: Ten Times

Don't Shoot The Pianist: Eight

Johnny Ringo: Eight

The O.K. Corral: Eight

In Episode Two, Steven complains to the Clanton Gang, "Come on, we've sung it four times already".  If he thought it was bad having to sing it four times in a row, imagine how dreadful it was having to listen to it thirty-FOUR times over. 

Even if The Last Chance Saloon were as good as Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling (which, sad to say, it is not), the excessive repetition could be forgiven.  What can't be forgiven are the lyrics never being set to the actual story.  Let me explain what I mean by that.  The themes to High Noon and The Gunfighters basically tell the story we're about to see.  The difference is that Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling works both for the film and as a ballad independent of the film.  You can sing the High Noon theme to someone who has never seen the film and understand the story.  With The Last Chance Saloon, lyrics are added to tell you what you've just seen.  Thus, the song grows longer and can only work within The Gunfighters itself.  We see just how wildly wrong this is in Episode Three.  Here, poor Charlie the bartender (David Graham) has been gunned down by villain Johnny Ringo.  As soon as he drops, we hear "So it's curtains for Charlie...", lyrics that had not been heard until now, and which sadly, will only have someone watching start to laugh. 

We have a character murdered in cold blood, and then you hear a song?  It all but demands that you laugh.  Putting a cap on the idiocy of this is the scene right after Charlie kicks the bucket (to put in in good American lingo).  The Doctor and Steven walk down from their rooms at the Last Chance Saloon and up to the bar.  Any sensible person would see from the staircase a corpse lying on the bar, but incredibly, both the Doctor and Steven are completely oblivious to poor Charlie even after they get to the bar, until they turn around and...oh, Charlie's dead.  If you aren't still laughing from hearing the new lyrics to The Last Chance Saloon, you'll definitely laugh at how unaware our heroes are to a dead man right next to them.  In short, the song is making the story more funny, as if the story itself didn't do a good enough job of that. 

Let's move on to something else that goes so wrong with this story.  The Gunfighters may be the first Western in history to have Cockney Cowboys.  It is obvious from the first moments we see the Clanton Brothers that they are not American because they sound so British.  An American would quickly pick up that these cowpokes are as authentic as a three-dollar bill and more likely to say "Cherrio" than "Howdy".  I reckon them boys ain't from around these here parts.  I imagine the British could easily tell all the 'Americans' were having an especially hard time sounding like actual Americans.  Accents aren't easy because you are asking someone to shift their natural sound to something foreign, and in The Gunfighters no matter how they try they can't get it right.  I'd qualify David Cole's Billy Clanton as the worst-sounding of the lot.  To slightly digress, Phin Clanton (Maurice Good) had a stutter throughout the story, and I figure it was done for comedic effect, but I never buy it when people have stutters as a way to have us laugh.  Not only does it ridicule people who do struggle with stuttering (paging His Majesty King George VI) but it adds nothing to the story.

I digress to point out that The Gunfighters is not historically accurate in a myriad of ways. mostly dealing with the fact that the actual Fight at the O.K. Corral didn't actually take place at the O.K. Corral but near it.  Granted, The Gunfighters was really more of a lark, a story that mirrored the image of the American West as opposed to the historical American West, but given how in other history stories (The Aztecs or Marco Polo) the production team went to great efforts to make it as historically accurate as possible, it's a puzzle as to why The Gunfighters was not accorded that same honor.  Yet I digress.

The actual performances, barring the weak accents, are not bad.  Special mention should be made of Jacobs' Doc Holliday--he got the Southern gentleman quality to the character (which was historically accurate).  Marshe's Fisher was also in the vein of the "hooker with a heart of gold", and she looked like she was having a good time. 

Unfortunately, the leads suffered the most in The Gunfighters.  Hartnell was oddly not an important factor in The Gunfighters, not having an important role in resolving the situation they were involved in.  Even worse was the 'comedic touch' of having the Doctor mispronounce Wyatt Earp's name as "Mr. Werp".  Maybe they thought it was funny.  It only ended up being annoying.

Lane's Dodo was still a blundering idiot (her running into the gunfight reminiscent of Grace Kelly doing the same in High Noon but with the effect of us questioning her intelligence) and worse, she was still hopelessly chipper despite the danger she faced.  Purves had nothing to do (except sing that awful song) and worse, didn't appear to think to avoid the Clanton Brothers.  Even worse, he was saddled (no pun intended) with one of the worst costumes in the First Doctor franchise: a star-studded ensemble that country performers known for their outfits (a Porter Wagoner or Little Jimmy Dickens) would reject as far too gaudy.  If you don't know what their outfits look like (some of our readers not aware of American country music), as we say in Texas, take a gander at this:

Porter Wagoner: 1927-2007

Now, imagine something even MORE flamboyant and you'll get an idea of what Steven Regret wore (at least now we know how he got his name). 

As it stands, The Gunfighters has the reputation of ending Doctor Who's historical adventures.  This is not entirely true; we had exactly three further adventures in the past after The Gunfighters: the First Doctor story The Smugglers, the Second Doctor story The Highlanders (which introduced Companion Jamie McCrimmon) but then we had a long wait for another purely historic story until the Fifth Doctor story Black Orchid.  After that, no more purely historic stories. 

Any other story that takes place in the past now is more in the vein of The Time Meddler (science-fiction elements in a historic setting): going from the Fourth Doctor stories The Masque of Mandragora and The Talons of Weng-Chiang through the Fifth Doctor's The King's Demons, the Sixth Doctor adventure The Mark of the Rani, the Seventh Doctor's The Curse of Fenric right on through the Ninth Doctor's The Unquiet Dead, the Tenth Doctor's Tooth & Claw or The Shakespeare Code and up to the Eleventh Doctor's Victory of the Daleks, The Vampires of Venice, Vincent & The Doctor, and up to The Curse of the Black Spot.  (I know I left out a few, but I wasn't aiming for a catalogue of all pseudo-historic Doctor Who stories.  Rather, I was attempting to show every Doctor had at least one story set in the past but not involving the past).  Now, the Doctor no longer is witness to history or affects it: rather, anytime he is in the past it is because something alien is involved. 

The Gunfighters, in that sense, made history of the historic stories.  This is a terrible shame, and the idea that there can't be good historic stories is a myth plain and simple.  There are many good historic stories that in reality are some of the best First Doctor stories and strong Doctor Who stories overall.  However, because The Gunfighters was such a disaster, purely historic stories have never recovered and now are held in disdain. 

The next story, The Savages, sadly, no longer exists save for a few clips.  Those mostly involve the parting of Companion Steven Taylor, meaning that in the story after that (The War Machines) it's just the Doctor and Dodo when we begin our next adventure.

In the end, The Gunfighters is just a massive misfire and as painful as a root canal.

2/10

Next Available Story: The War Machines



Wonder why THIS didn't appear in The Gunfighters. Not a pretty picture, ain't it?

Don't You Forget About Me

STORY 218: DAY OF THE MOON (The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon)

I can't remember a time when Doctor Who opened with a two-parter (certainly in the revived series), so Day of the Moon may be a unique moment.  It already is historic in that it's the first time a Doctor Who story was filmed in the United States (though technically speaking, the First Doctor story The Gunfighters was the first one to actually take place in the U.S.--Tombstone, Arizona to be exact while Doctor Who: The Movie aka The Enemy Within, set in San Francisco, California it was actually filmed in Vancouver, British Columbia).  For the longest time I approached Day of the Moon Parts 1 & 2 with great trepidation.  I can't give a specific reason as to why I was so afraid of this two-part story.  It might be because it is a two-part story.  It might be because now we must contend with River Song (Alex Kingston) becoming a Doctor Who icon (whether I want her to be or think she should be or not).  It might be because of all I've read about what the story is about.  Well, I must now overcome my fear, and face Series/Season Six of Doctor Who.

First, a brief housekeeping detail.  I've opted to name the two-parter Day of the Moon because to call it The Impossible Astronaut Parts 1 & 2 might lead to confusing it with another two-part story: The Impossible Planet Parts 1 & 2 (The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit) emphasis mine.  Since I refer to the former by one title, and that title is The Impossible Planet, having another story called The Impossible This-That-Or-The-Other would be a bit chaotic in my view.  Therefore, Day of the Moon it is.

Amy Pond-Williams (Karen Gillan), her husband Rory (Arthur Danvill) and the Legendary Legend of Legendness, Dr. River Song (Alex Kingston) have all received invitations to meet up with The Doctor (Matt Smith).  They meet up in the American West, where after a lovely picnic a figure dressed as an astronaut rises from the waters.  This figure, recognized by The Doctor, shoots him twice.  The Doctor begins to regenerate, but another shot stops him cold...literally.  The Doctor, the Last of the Time Lords, is dead.  If that isn't enough, another strange figure comes upon them.  This is Canton Delaware III (William Morgan Sheppard).  He too has received an invitation, specifically Invitation #4.  The Williams have Invitation #3, River has #2, so who has Invitation #1?  Wouldn't you know it...Who has Invite #1. 

Actually, a younger version of The Doctor, fully alive and fully jolly to see his old friends again, unaware that his older self (who still looks like his younger self) has just died (and gotten a Viking funeral sans helmet with horns).   The Doctor is reluctant to join them on some mysterious errand by some mysterious figure, but Amy convinces him to trust her.  With that, it's off to 1969.  They arrive in the Oval Office, where President Nixon (Stuart Milligan) and a younger Canton Delaware (Mark Sheppard--William's real-life son).  The President has been receiving strange phone calls on his direct line.  The voice is that of a child, asking for help because 'the space man' is after her.  The group, along with Delaware, go to Cape Kennedy and all make contact with The Silence.  The Silence is an alien group that has lived on Earth for as long as humans have been here, but whom humanity is not aware of because as soon as you turn away from them, you forget they are there.   While being pursued and pursuing The Silence Amy tells the Doctor she is pregnant.  A figure dressed in an astronaut suit appears, and Amy fires, not realizing until she shoots that inside is...a little girl. 

Day of the Moon: We jump forward to where Delaware is pursing all of the travellers.  He shoots Amy in Utah, River in New York City, and Rory in Glen Canyon Dam, Arizona.  It does look like Delaware is hunting them down, especially since The Doctor is locked up at Area 51, but it's all a rouse.  The Doctor now realizes that The Silence are an occupying force, so there must be a revolution against this enemy that people cannot remember.  The Doctor hits upon a brilliant idea--all tied to the Moon Landing on July 20, 1969 (Happy 42th Anniversary, by the way).  One of The Silence has been captured and taken to the special prison formerly for The Doctor at Area 51, and with Richard Nixon's help (being Commander-In-Chief has its privileges), and the worldwide attention of Neil Armstrong's historic first step, The Silence unwittingly aid in their own destruction.   Now President Nixon is asked to help Agent Delaware by allowing him to marry the...person...he loves (and yes, this...person...is black), River and The Doctor share an intimate moment (much to his surprise), and the Williams rest sure in their own love.  We end Day of the Moon Parts 1 & 2 with the most extraordinary sight...a little girl in New York City six months after (making it January 1970) begins to regenerate...

Perhaps it's just bad timing, but I had the (mis)fortune to watch Day of the Moon Parts 1 & 2 AFTER watching Transformers: Dark of the Moon even though the latter premiered AFTER the former (Transformers III on June 28, 2011 and Day of the Moon Part 1 on April 23, 2011).  Therefore, the fact that both stories revolve around the Lunar Landing is just bad coincidence.  That, however, can't escape my flashing back to other stories while watching the Steven Moffat-penned two-parter. 

Part 2 involves markings on the Companion's skin that will help them remember when they've encountered The Silence.  Memento, anyone?  Actually, in retrospect the strange markings on their bodies was reminiscent of oddly enough, The Impossible Planet Parts 1 & 2 (The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit). The Doctor is sealed in an impregnable (no pun intended) prison...as River Song might ask, have we done that yet?  Oh, yes...The Big Bang Part 1 (The Pandorica Opens), which was written by...Steven Moffat.  River Song comments how her timeline and The Doctor's are going in opposite directions--by the time he meets her he knew her less and less.  Has this now turned into The Curious Case of River Song Button?  Finally, a child calls for help.  Empty Child Parts 1 & 2 redux? I leave it up to the viewer as to whether or not these same thoughts entered his/her mind while watching, but I couldn't shake them from mine while watching Day of the Moon Parts 1 & 2.

You may have noticed that I have been particular about how I write the villain's name.  I think this is because there is an attempt to convince me that The Silence is perhaps on an equal level with the Daleks, the Cybermen, the Master, or the Weeping Angels as these giants of Doctor Who monsters.  That would be pretty high billing for any monsters from the revived series, especially on their debut (and apparently farewell) story.  The Silence were good, even possibly great monsters--perfectly capable of sending small children behind the sofa.  However, there's just something within me that rebels against being all but ordered to accept any new character/species as ICONIC from the get-go (which is why I have never warmed up to River Song--however, given that Moffat created her that might account for his push to make her a nearly-mythic Doctor Who character.  Granted, I have yet to see Forest of the Dead Parts 1 & 2.  For reasons too long to go into, I'll just say that between Love & Monsters and The Waters of Mars I boycotted Doctor Who.  To reveal more would be like Song says, "Spoilers", but I digress).  With that in mind, I take a slightly mockingly reverential tone towards The Silence, but that isn't to say they weren't effective.

Far from it: The Silence looked terrifying (a tremendous compliment to the make-up department) and the fact that these villains are forgettable (in a roundabout way) is simply a brilliant idea.  Still, I am at a loss to understand why there's this idea that The Silence are one of if not the most terrifying monsters ever on Doctor Who.  Really?  More terrifying than the Daleks?  The Master?  The Black Guardian?  I beg to differ.  The Silence are yes, a clever idea, and yes, well done.  But the most terrifying?  Of all time?  I don't know if they'd make it high on my list of Doctor Who monsters (or on it at all), but no, they wouldn't make it in the Top Ten.  Sorry.

Another brilliant moment is when our perceptions about Agent Delaware in Part 2 are completely spun around.  How The Doctor is able to defeat The Silence is good, even clever (although again, my mind wandered a bit into the end of the film A Face In the Crowd where the main character's destruction was aided by it being televised).

Another plus is the Space Man rising from the waters and going down again.  Toby Haynes not only got the visuals down so well (the terror in the NASA warehouse to the open spaces of Utah) but directed some wonderful performances out of both regulars and guests.  Gillan's heartbreak at seeing the Death of Doctor Who (does that sound familiar to Whovians, I wonder) is so beautiful.  The younger Sheppard was spot-on as the strict and efficient FBI agent (I'm going to throw in some debatable points--since he travelled with the Doctor in the TARDIS, does that make Agent Delaware a Companion?  Discuss among yourselves). 

It was good to have moments of humor (when Amy, Rory and River appear in the Oval Office, the Doctor introduces them as The Legs, The Nose, and Mrs. Robinson respectively), but there were moments of bad humor (the entire opening sequence from the Restoration period to a song-and-dance with Laurel and Hardy). 

Now, however, on the whole the things that I disliked about Day of the Moon Parts 1 & 2 outweigh the things I liked.  I wasn't convinced that Milligan was Richard Nixon.  Granted, doing a successful version of President Nixon is difficult (I've always suspected that when people think of Nixon, they think of a Rich Little impersonation of Richard Nixon), but Milligan didn't sound anything like the President and barely looked like him.  Truth be told, I though Stuart Milligan looked more like Steven Moffat than Richard Nixon. 

Also, I think the entire subplot as to whom Agent Delaware wants to marry is downright bizarre.  I'm going on a limb to say that it may have to do with Moffat and Haynes and everyone else being British.  Let's put some things in perspective.  The Stonewall Riots were only a month old when Apollo 11 took off, so while it is highly likely that Agent Delaware would have been fired for "the love that dare not speak its name", not even the most progressive politician at that time would have even imagined allowing a same-sex wedding,  or even a civil ceremony.  It is highly probable that Nixon would have restored Agent Delaware to his position (maybe even allowed a secret ceremony--if any modern-day President revelled in secrecy...) but to my mind, I didn't understand why this subplot was thrown in.  Was it make a point to Moffat's American 'cousins'?

You also have some other odds and ends.  For example, there's a quick appearance by a woman with an eye-patch saying to someone off-screen something about Amy still dreaming.  Not a fan of having things barely introduced just to put them in for future reference.  Same goes for mysterious little girls (both in the space suit and pictured with Amy).  Granted, it's a nice twist, but I prefer stories that stand on their own and not just serve as trailers for future stories.  This thing about every season having to be about ONE thing (from Bad Wolf in Series One to The Crack in Time in Series Five) is off-putting to me.  Finally, the little girl at the end regenerating.  Given the dialogue, she knows how to regenerate.  How would she know that...unless she's done it before.  Again, Doctor Who is going to have to have a giant pay-off when all is revealed (not that My Mysterious Doctor portrait didn't do a good enough job of revealing too much already).

Day of the Moon Parts 1 & 2 is suppose to be about a world post-The Doctor.  He got a Viking funeral, after all.  Think of it: the Doctor...dies!  He actually dies, only to come back minutes later.  Sorry, but another movie came to mind: Back to The Future, when Doc Brown doesn't want to know his future, but somehow still manages to change it.  Wonder if the same holds true for our Gallifreyan hero.  The Doctor obviously knows who has killed him since he recognizes the face, but frankly it is too early to speculate about anything: the regenerating child, the Doctor's killer, anything involving River Song. 

Finally, I had issues with both the pre-and-post-credits in Episode One.  We start with Amy narrating an introduction as to how she and Rory ended up with The Doctor.  Was that necessary?  Have we had a Companion introduce us to how he/she ended up with the Doctor before (at least on television).  Again, was it necessary?  I also thought the tribute to Elisabeth Sladen could have been better.  Granted, I am aware they were pressed for time, but couldn't you have at least given us a full-screen in color? 

Again and again, there is goofy and there is downright idiotic.  So far Smith has kept a good balance, but now he's starting to lose it (in more ways than one).  When you hear characters ask, "Doctor who?" at least twice one wonders if the people behind the scenes are taking things seriously.   

On the whole, Day of the Moon Parts 1 & 2 was a good way to open Season/Series Six, but to my mind, it doesn't have the legendary qualities it so nakedly (pun intended) aspires to.  I have found two-part stories to be uneven: the first part is fast, exciting, and the second becomes a bit of a let-down.  Day of the Moon didn't suffer the sophomore slump (to its credit).  It isn't up there among the greats, but I thought it a good story.  However, it didn't send me over the moon.   

6/10

Next Story: The Curse of the Black Spot 



Yes, one CAN see the resemblance...



Harkness Rising

STORY 168: THE EMPTY CHILD PARTS 1 & 2 (The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances) 

One of the big things with The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2 (The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances) is the introduction of a character that, somehow, beyond what I think either writer Stephen Moffat or producer Russell T Davies might have imagined, would have a whole mythos built around him.  Said character would spawn his own spin-off, or rather, spin-offs (plural).  So far, I count three series built around our guest star: Torchwood, Torchwood: Children of Earth, and now Torchwood: Miracle Day.

Then again, if I may be allowed to digress, perhaps it isn't a surprise that Captain Jack Harkness (John Barrowman) became a star apart from Doctor Who.  After all, few producers have been as enamored of creating spin-offs and building whole mythologies around guest characters/Companions on Doctor Who than Moffat and Davies.  Davies, for example, toyed with having Companion Rose Tyler (Billie Piper) get her own series, or at least series of specials (Rose Tyler: Earth Defence).  For his part, Moffat built up future character River Song (Alex Kingston) into a virtual Doctor Who icon...and even managed to make her connection to future Doctors (David Tennant and Matt Smith) into something bordering on Biblical.  He's even thrown in a  a connection to a future COMPANION for good measure.  However, that is for another time.

One gets the feeling if those two had been around in November 1963, we would have seen such shows as Ian & Barbara: The Investigators (where our former schoolteachers become detectives of the paranormal) or maybe later on such endeavours as A Day With Dodo (a program on CBBC--Children's British Broadcasting Corporation--where our dimwitted host learns all sorts of things, chief among them to speak proper English) or Brigadier: The Lost Years (detailing Lethbridge-Stewart's war experiences).  We also could have had Adric's Mad Math Mania and/or Ace's Wild.  And those are the Companions, not the guest stars. Personally, I find it amazing that River Song HASN'T had her own spin-off at this point.

Truth be told, to my memory, the only guest characters in classic Doctor Who who were even considered for their own spin-offs were theater impresario Henry Gordon Jago (Christopher Benjamin) & Professor Litefoot (Trevor Baxter) from The Talons of Weng-Chiang.   Jago & Litefoot have gone on to a successful series of audio stories but have yet to appear on another Doctor Who episode as a team (which is a puzzle to me given how good they and The Talons of Weng-Chiang were).   HOWEVER, we have to take certain things into consideration. 

First, The Talons of Weng-Chiang is six parts long, or three complete episodes if translated to revived series timing.  Therefore, if it were done today, it would have made them virtual Companions.  Second, The Talons of Weng-Chiang is one of the best Doctor Who stories of the Fourth Doctor's era if not the entire series.  A classic story has several elements that elevate it, and in the case of Talons of Weng-Chiang, one of them was the team of Jago & Litefoot.  Third, the sheer length of Talons of Weng-Chiang allowed the audience to build affection and interest in Jago & Litefoot.  In the revived series, the fact that most non-Companions pop in and out so quickly doesn't allow for that...unless the characters pop in again on a more continuous basis.  Fourth and finally, Benjamin and Baxter worked so well together that it seemed almost natural that they continue their association post-Talons of Weng-Chiang. 

However, I am getting too far ahead of myself for the purposes of The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2, so now let's get back to the episode in hand. 

The Doctor (Christopher Eccleston) and his Companion Rose are chasing a large object that eventually crashes in London.  It takes a little while for them to realize it has crashed during the Blitz, which explains why people take little note of something dropping from the sky.  The Doctor and Rose are split up when she attempts to rescue a boy wearing a gas mask who is on the roof.  While trying to reach him, she grabs hold of a rope...tied to a barrage balloon.  Now she's hovering over London while the Luftwaffe and the RAF are fighting it out around her.  Her distinct bottom attracts the eyes of Captain Jack, whom we discover is also from the future.  She soon falls (figuratively and literally) for our dashing Captain, who has mistaken her and the Doctor as Time Agents.  A deal is tentatively struck: in exchange for money Captain Jack will lead them to this crashed object, which he says is a Chula warship.

Meanwhile, a young girl named Nancy (Florence Hoath) has been leading a group of children who've run away from their evacuated safety in the country and returned to London.  Taking advantage of the same air raid that caused Rose to inadvertently take flight, she raids a home for their food, bringing in her charges...only to find the Doctor too has popped up at the dinner table.  However, there is one more guest trying to get in: the little boy with the gas mask who keeps asking, "Are you my mummy?"  Nancy gets all the children out and tells the Doctor not to let him in and especially never to let the child touch him, otherwise he will become like the child--empty.  She knows who the child is, or was: her little brother, Jamie, killed around the same time 'a bomb that wasn't a bomb' crashed.  To get information, Nancy tells him to see the doctor at hospital.

Dr. Constantine (Richard Wilson) tells the Doctor that everyone in the hospital has the same injuries, right down to a scar on the back of the right hand.  After gaining his information, the Doctor watches in shock as Dr. Constantine slowly turns like the empty child, right down to asking, "Are you my mummy?"  Now Captain Jack and Rose have tracked the Doctor down and are stunned to find themselves surrounded by the non-dead, non-living empty humans.

Eventually, we learn that Captain Jack is a shameless con man (as well as being basically an omnisexual...or is it pansexual), and that the Chula ship Jack thought was empty was in reality an ambulance ship, carrying millions of nanogenes: tiny machines that can heal any living thing.  Unfortunately, they had never met a human before, so when they 'healed' someone they changed it into the first person they encountered...in this case, a dead child wearing a gas mask.  Now there was an entire army of Empty People, and their leader now had tremendous power in his search for his mummy.  Jack appears to have abandoned them, but in truth we see he has taken the bomb about to be dropped on the ambulance spaceship to prevent it from being destroyed and spreading the plague throughout the entire world. 

We then make a shocking discovery about Nancy's true identity, but that secret turns out to heal Jamie and everyone affected by the formerly-Empty Child.  The Doctor gleefully (and maniacally) declares: "Everybody lives, Rose.  Just this once: Everybody Lives".  Now the Doctor and Rose depart, with him telling them to win the war, save the world, and not forget the welfare state.  Jack, however, appears to be doomed: he has no way of escaping from the bomb.  He is resigned to his fate, until the TARDIS comes to take him away, and at last, the Doctor dances.

It should be pointed out, though, that 'dancing' is really a euphimism for 'sex', but mercifully we are not treated to a scene of Eccleston getting it on with either Piper or Barrowman.

There are certainly within The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2 some brilliant moments courtesy of Mofatt's screenplay and James Hawes' direction.  The cliffhanger in Part 1 is one of the best moments in the revived Doctor Who (certainly one of the most terrifying) because there appears to be no way out.  The actual resolution in Part 2 is both clever and more importantly, plausible.   There is also strong patriotic overtones in The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2, such as when the Doctor makes a mini-speech about how the British, this tiny island, said 'no' to the Nazi onslaught.  "A mouse in front of a lion", he states. 

We see a good performance from Piper when she comforts Nancy about the ultimate fate of the War.  Nancy doesn't believe that there will be a future for either her or Britain.  Nancy is told by Rose that she, Rose, was born in London in about fifty years in the future, but Nancy is only perplexed--not by the fact that she's from the future, but in that Rose isn't German.  Rose tells her that in the end, Britain will win.  It is a beautiful scene between them, showing Rose's almost motherly instinct--a remarkable fact given Piper's character is only nineteen and is not a mother or close to being one.  It's a genuine credit to Piper that Rose is both so likable and tender and tough all at once. 

Although he was on screen only briefly, Wilson's Dr. Constantine showed himself as caring about his patients and wise about their predicament.  Hoath's Nancy was also a strong performance of a child herself whose secret makes for a good (though not great) twist.  She is tough but loving to her unofficial brood, courageous when facing down the owner of the house from where she's stealing food but terrified when placed close to anotehr victim of Jamie's. 

For all intents and purposes, this is John Barrowman's show.  The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2 almost appears to be a calling card to Captian Jack Harkness (or as I lovingly call him, The Intergalatic Nymphomaniac).  Barrowman keeps a fine balance between being a smooth operator and a sleazy con man.  Throughout The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2 we can never get a strong fix as to his true motivations: every time he disappears we think he's a terrible person only to find he does have something like a heart (remember, he was going to swindle the Doctor and Rose without any hint of remorse).  He is the third American/American-sounding Companion in Doctor Who (after Peri Brown and Dr. Grace Holloway), but it does lead to a question: are there Americans in the 51st Century?  As an American, that's good to know.  Yet I digress: Barrowman was good, but I would argue not great.  A couple of times in The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2 (specifically Part 2) he appeared a bit flat.  When he says he was not responsible for what happened to the patients, I didn't believe him.  Not that I thought Jack really wanted to do harm, but because Barrowman's delivery was oddly dull and flat. 

Some of the scenes were filmed with an intensity that would make it a fine feature.  Almost every appearance of the empty child is creepy (although at times the angles and speed of the film did make it a little too much to bear, but a minor flaw). 

Here is where I'm going to take some issues with The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2.  First, while the truth about Nancy's identity is a good twist, why would Jamie suspect she wasn't his sister but his mother?  It does provide the answer to his question, "Are you my mummy?" but given that I figure for all his life he either had a mother-figure or Nancy-as-sister why would he ask now if she was in fact, his mother?  That's perhaps one of my biggest beefs with The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2: why now, what would have prompted him to see someone (or someone else) as his mother whom he'd I figure never suspect to be his mother? 

True: I wasn't thrilled with all the 'dancing' talk being a substitute for 'sex'--I really don't care about the Doctor's romps...or Captain Jack's for that matter.  Yes, Barrowman is handsome in a taller Tom Cruise-clone way, but the idea that nearly every being was powerless to resist his advances is a bit hard to believe.  All this sex talk, specifically in regards to homosexuality, got a bit silly--what purpose was there to suggest that it was Mr. Lloyd rather than Mrs. Lloyd who was 'messing around' with the butcher (and thus, giving the Lloyds more meat than rations would allow)?  Same goes for suggesting that Captain Jack and a British army captain were also "more than friends". Maybe it was for shock value, maybe it was to show us that there were gays before Stonewall, maybe it was to hammer a subtle point about gay equality.  Point is, I don't know and frankly don't care about people's sex lives and don't see how any of it is relevant to the plot.

I also wasn't so thrilled when the Doctor advised the British to "don't forget the welfare state".  Again and again, I am distressed whenever political views are injected into Doctor Who.  I really can't recall such stories as The Tomb of the Cybermen, The Sea Devils, The Talons of Weng-Chiang or The Caves of Androzani being so blatantly political.  Yes, some great stories (Doctor Who and the Silurians for example) could have social undertones, but there's the operative word--undertones (emphasis mine).  A great science-fiction story which is also an allegory works when you can see the story in two levels.  When it is nakedly before us (as with Aliens of London Parts 1 & 2) it doesn't work because it takes me out of the fantasy element of the story and just serves to remind me of the author/producer's viewpoint.  He/she is perfectly free to have whatever views one wishes--just don't throw them at me and expect me to be pleased.  This is a personal thing with me: I hate being lectured when watching a film/story (even when I agree with their views). 

Overall, I found Part 2 (The Doctor Dances) to be a bit slow, like the action grinding down, a bit sluggish in the middle of the story.  I found the same with Part 2 of Aliens of London (World War III), so I think that it is a bit hard to keep the momentum for a two-part story in the revived series.  However, I could be proven wrong, so we shall see. 

There are certain Doctor Who stories that you can watch again and again and still find thrilling (The Aztecs, The Five Doctors, The Curse of Fenric, The Unquiet Dead).  There are some that you watch once and you simply don't want to see again (Timelash, Time-Flight, The Leasure Hive).  And then there are some that the first time you see them, you think they are brilliant, but when you see them again the enthusiasm drops.  The Empty Child Parts 1 & 2 falls in this category.  When I saw them premiere, I was wildly enthusiastic about them.  Seeing them again, I wasn't as excited as I'd been the first time: Part 2 especially seemed a bit slow and the twist not as convincing (while it can be argued that it's because I already knew the twist, my counter-argument is that I already knew the twist in The Curse of Fenric but I still end up so surprised because I am so caught up in the story). 

If I gave individual episodes grades, The Empty Child would get a 7 and The Doctor Dances a 4.  Since I count it as one story, my decision is...

6/10

Next Story: Boom Town

Bet it's not the first time he's had something big between his legs!

Doctor Who Story 024: The Celestial Toymaker

STORY 024: THE CELESTIAL TOYMAKER

Someone's Playing Games With Us...

This is certainly a sad case.  The four-part story known as The Celestial Toymaker has only one episode known to be in existence: Episode Four (The Final Test).  That one episode is all that remains of the first appearance of Michael Gough in Doctor Who. Although he did return in Arc of Infinity Gough was never to recreate his title villain.  He was set to return as the Celestial Toymaker in The Nightmare Fair but the story was scrapped when Doctor Who went on hiatus in 1986 and was replaced by the season-long The Trial of A Time Lord.  (Side note: curiously, although The Celestial Toymaker was to appear only once his influence is still felt today, but more on that later).

It's a curious thing about Gough.  Most people know him as Alfred Pennyworth from the Tim Burton film Batman and its three sequels (Batman Returns, Batman Forever, and Batman & Robin).  As Alfred, he's a very good guy.  The curious thing is that for most of his career, Gough was better known as a villain: from the Hammer Horror films through Berserk! with Joan Crawford and here.  He had a stern, powerful voice and strong screen presence that denoted evil, so seeing him as the title villain may be a bit of a surprise to Batman fans who know him as the kindly valet to Bruce Wayne.  

On the minus side, as stated only Episode Four is known to exist.  On the plus side, even though only one of the four episodes remains (or at least remains for the present), that one episode is still pretty strong, with good acting and an interesting villain.

The Doctor (William Hartnell) has disappeared and been rendered mute by the Celestial Toymaker (Gough), an immortal being who creates his own world and has captured the Doctor and his Companions, Dodo (Jackie Lane) and Steven (Peter Purves).  The Doctor must play the Trilogic Game (where he must deconstruct and reconstruct a pyramid made up of ten pieces within a certain number of moves from Point A to Point C and with the lower piece always being larger than the one above it).  Meanwhile, Dodo and Steven must play a series of games set up by the Toymaker in order to recover the TARDIS.  If they lose, they remain in this world forever as the Toymaker's playthings.  If they win, the world they occupy is destroyed...along with them.  By the time of The Final Test the Doctor has made a series of moves and is close to finishing the Trilogic game, while Dodo and Steven face their greatest adversary, a large man resembling a child who goes by Cyril (Peter Stephens) whom they've encountered before as the Knave of Hearts and a kitchen boy in the preceding episodes. 

Cyril makes them play hopscotch but always rigs the game to his advantage.  Eventually, Dodo and Steven manage to win but the Toymaker has one more trick up his sleeve: the Doctor at the nearly-complete Trilogic game.  The Doctor outwits the Toymaker, but with the threat that he may return.  In triumph and safe in the TARDIS, Dodo gives the Doctor some of Cyril's sweets, and after one bit he hunches over in pain...

The curious thing about the concluding episode of The Celestial Toymaker is that anyone would think that we would imagine the Doctor would be in danger when the next title is captioned A Holiday for The Doctor.  Even if I were a child in 1964 I still would have thought, 'A Holiday for the Doctor'?  Well, I guess he'll be all right next week".   You can't have such a dramatic ending with such a silly title as A Holiday for The Doctor. 

Now, as for the story itself, The Celestial Toymaker appears to be a rather good story based on the villain: a being who is immortal, evil, and highly intelligent.  At the center of what elevates The Celestial Toymaker is Gough's performance.  He is a being who relishes the ability to match wits with someone of high intelligence, which the Doctor certainly is.  Unlike the bumbling Meddling Monk, the Toymaker can be taken quite seriously in his deadly intentions.  Unlike the Daleks, the Toymaker has no interest in world domination.  He merely enjoys the challenge of capturing others and forcing them to play his deadly games.  In short, Gough is a master of villainy, and in The Celestial Toymaker he gives a great performance of someone who uses his superior intelligence as opposed to brute force to get his way. 

I also have to compliment Stephens' performance of Cyril.  He was perfect as an annoying schoolboy-type who cheats his way to the top.  Curiously, the end of Cyril, although not shown, is still rather gruesome.  It's a credit to The Celestial Toymaker (and especially director Bill Sellars) that while the horror of Cyril getting it at the end is not graphic, the remains are still a bit jarring. 

I also compliment Daphne Dare's costuming, particularly of both Cyril and the Toymaker himself.  He has this Imperial Chinese-style robe that makes him look elegant yet otherworldly, while Cyril is more a naughty British schoolboy. 

Now, even within The Celestial Toymaker, as good as the surviving episode is, some things just can't be fixed.  In this one episode Dodo still appears to be totally stupid--you would think after three games she would have gained some sense in how to deal with someone like Cyril.  The fact that she still can't get it right makes Dodo exceptionally stupid, annoying, and goes a long way to explaining why she is still one of the Worst Doctor Who Companions.  Steven, no MENSA master himself, isn't much better--always growling through every part of the TARDIS hopscotch.  Perhaps this is how they were directed, and while Lane and Purves did better work than in The Ark, they still don't make the best couple.

Despite being incomplete, The Celestial Toymaker is still a strong influence in Doctor Who.  In Amy's Choice, the character of The Dream Lord was so much like that of The Toymaker that I was not the only one that speculated whether or not it WAS the Toymaker making his revenge...I mean, return appearance.  I don't know if that episode consciously drew from The Celestial Toymaker, but it is strange that both characters would have the Doctor play games in order to survive.

Overall, The Celestial Toymaker is elevated due to Michael Gough's brilliant turn as the title villain.  Even though only one episode survives, there is no reason why the first three (The Celestial Toyroom, The Hall of Dolls, and The Dancing Floor) should not be reconstructed.  HOWEVER, I understand that in Episode Two, The King of Hearts recites the nursery rhyme "Eeny meeny miny moe" with an unacceptable word in it (even in 1966 it should not have aired).  The audio release has the narration cover up this word, and should it ever be reconstructed this is one time I would not object to having it edited out.  Sign of the times, unfortunately.  However, the story itself (officially credited to Bryan Hayles but with extensive work by both Donald Tosh and Gerry Davis) still holds up well and moves to a solid ending (minus the Doctor's toothache--bad way to end).  However, in the end, it is good to see The Dark Side of Alfred Pennyworth.

7/10

Next Story: The Gunfighters

Doctor Who Story 023: The Ark

STORY 023: THE ARK

Keeping One Eye On Things...

This is the debut story of Dodo Chaplet (Jackie Lane), whom we met in the previous story, the now-lost The Massacre of St. Bartholomew's Eve (or just The Massacre).  For better or worse, Dodo is one of the most reviled of Doctor Who companions, and The Ark is well, not the most liked of First Doctor stories.  I never judge something without seeing it first, and now that I have seen the four-part story collectively known as The Ark (not to be confused with the Fourth Doctor story The Ark In Space), I am in agreement with the majority on both The Ark and on Dodo. 

The Ark's first major flaw is that it really is TWO stories lumped together.  Let's start with the first two episodes (The Steel Sky and The Plague).  The Doctor (William Hartnell) and his Companions Steven Taylor (Peter Purves) and Dodo arrive in what appears to be a large nature preserve.  It's a strange one though, in that animals from various continents are living together.  While Dodo (inexplicably dressed as a medieval pageboy) believes herself to be in a London park, the Doctor soon realizes they are actually aboard a spaceship.  This ship carries all of humanity and is governed by the Guardians, with the alien Monoids as basically their servants.  The Commander of the Guardians (Eric Elliot) welcomes them, but soon he is stricken with a mysterious disease.  The mystery is soon discovered: it is Dodo's cold, to which the Guardians have no immunity from. 

Accused of trying to wipe out humanity, the travellers are taken prisoner.  Soon more and more Guardians take sick, with at least one dying.  Put on trial by Deputy Commander Zentos (Inigo Jackson), they would have been executed if not for the intervening of the Commander, ill but still in command, who instead orders the Guardians to allow the Doctor to find a cure.  He tests his treatment on Steven, who is also ill.  The cure works for him, and soon all humanity is saved.  Now humanity can find a new home (Earth having been destroyed by the Sun) on Refusis II.  They can also continue working on the statue they will place there, which will give future Guardians both something to admire and something to do while in space.  With that, the travellers wave goodbye to the Guardians and Monoids and off they go.

Now we get the second story in Episodes Three and Four (The Return and The Bomb--perhaps the most inadvertently accurate title for the series).   While it's only been a few seconds, the travellers find themselves exactly in the same place--the ship now nicknamed The Ark (thanks to Dodo's offhanded comment earlier in the story).   They realize it's been 700 years between when the left and now, so they start looking around.  They come upon the statue, and discover to their shock that now...it has a Monoid head.  They are again captured by the Monoids, only this time they are able to speak using a voice device.  The Monoids have led a coup and have taken over the Ark, keeping humanity alive to serve THEM as slaves.  The Chief Monoid (helpfully named 'One'), has the travellers taken to the Security Kitchen.  Here, the descendants connect the myths of the Travellers to the newest members, giving them hope for a counter-revolution. 

There is little time for it though: the Ark has arrived near Refusis II.  A search party is launched to explore the planet and see if it is habitable.  ONE plots to destroy all humanity aboard the Ark and take Refusis II for the Monoids, but the Refusians (the invisible natives) don't want violent creatures here.  Assured that humans will make Refusis a more hospitable place than the Monoids, the Refusian Voice (Richard Beale) agrees to help the Doctor.  There is dissension in the Monoid ranks: FOUR believes ONE and TWO will bring about the destruction of the Monoids by actions on Refusis II, and soon they start fighting among themselves.  The Doctor and Dodo discover the Monoid plans to destroy humanity with a bomb aboard the Ark, and a desperate search begins.  Eventually they discover where the bomb is, the Monoids destroy each other, and humanity is allowed refuge on Refusis II.  The travellers leave a second time, and Dodo puts on something straight out of Carnaby Street, but now, the Doctor himself has disappeared though his voice remains...

There are so many things wrong with The Ark that it's like shooting fish in a barrel to choose where to begin.  First, let's start with the story by Paul Erikson and Leslie Scott (the latter the first woman credited with a Doctor Who story, although her then-husband Erikson has stated that it was more a deal between them to share credit and that she contributed little to nothing to the story).  As I've stated before, The Ark is really two stories connected by the appearance of the Monoids: the first two episodes dealing with the cold that Dodo has brought and that threatens humanity, and the last two dealing with the Monoids attempts to destroy humanity. 

On a personal level, I think it would have worked better if the focus had remained on the first part because the problem of Dodo's cold was resolved so quickly it wasn't worth investing any time to it.  As a side note to that, it's in retrospect bizarre to think Steven, who probably would have had greater immunity to the common cold than the Guardians, could have been just as deathly ill as the Guardians themselves.  It seems such an inconsistency that it's a wonder no one really stopped to ask how Steven was as easily affected by a cold as the Commander was (especially when he was wearing far more clothes than the Guardians, but more on that later). 

If they had wanted the Monoids in The Ark, perhaps they could have been the population on Refusis II and were attacking the humans in fear that they would destroy their world, or better yet, the Monoids wanted to take over the Ark for themselves from the get-go, rather than be the placid, mute servants of the Guardians. 

Let's now shift to Problem Two with The Ark: the Monoids themselves.  Few monsters have been as mocked and as ridiculed as the Monoids, and with good reason.   There are so many things that are just wrong with them.  First, their appearance: the Monoids are basically one-eyed beings with Beatles wigs who waddle about the place.  In Episode Four, I believe we're told that the Monoids are rushing about the ship.  The idea that these beings who can only shuffle across the floor "rushing about" anywhere is laughable--they can barely waddle, let alone run.  Even worse, their communication.  For the first two episodes, they are mute, able to communicate only with hand signals.  In Episodes Three and Four, they can no speak with the aid of voice collars, but in all those 700 years the Monoids never got around to coming up with names for themselves.  The leader was known simply as ONE, his aide was TWO, and so forth and so on.

How Erikson or Scott or director Michael Imison never thought that this come off as comedic I simply don't know.  Even worse (yes, there is an even worse to an even worse) their numbers appear on the voice collars themselves.  ONE has a 1 on his collar, TWO has a 2, and so forth and so on.  This flat-out doesn't make any sense.  Maybe the Monoids themselves couldn't tell each other apart.  This "number as name" situation leads to unintended moments of hilarity.  Take this line from Episode Four:

There is still no contact from TWO on Refusis, ONE.

As spoken by THREE, it makes it sound like the planet is called Refusis One, and for a moment there is some confusion as to where they exactly are.   I had a theory as to why ONE was the Monoid leader (besides the fact that he was ONE).  I think ONE was leader because ONE was the one who could make large hand gestures (of which ONE made more than one of...pun time now, isn't it?).  Why, one wonders (pun intended) did the Monoids never bother to gain names?  It would have made it easier to figure out which was which.  (Side note: the Daleks never had names either, but the lights always helped in distinguishing who was speaking, and they at least could move faster than the Monoids). 

Going on with the Monoids, when TWO arrives with the Doctor and Dodo on Refusis II in Episode Three (a lot of numbers there, don't you think?), first, TWO almost trips over himself in entering the empty mansion.  Then, to make matters worse, his idea of showing the Refusians who's in charge is by taking out one flower from a vase at a time and throwing it on the ground, culminating in threatening to smash said vase.  I understand Hitler used the same method when the Nazis entered Warsaw.  It all comes off as funny to the point of parody, and one can't take these monsters seriously when you're on the floor...laughing at them. 

Final point on the disaster that are the Monoids, when you've enslaved humanity, the best you can think of doing with them is putting them to work in the kitchen?  Seriously, the KITCHEN?

As a side note on the other aliens, I know Doctor Who was trying to save money on costumes and make-up by making the Refusians invisible, but for my part, I never found invisible aliens credible...it just sounds cheap (in every sense of the word).  Moreover, we just had a story that had invisible aliens (Episodes Five and Six of The Daleks' Master Plan) and I think using the same trick two stories later makes it all look repetitive. 

Now, let's go on to a problem that was not the fault of either Erikson/Scott or Imison: a birdbrain named Dodo.  There's so much wrong with her character that an entire essay could be written as to why she is one of the worst Companions in Doctor Who (both classic and revived series).  First, her accent: she's suppose to be a Cockney girl from swinging London, but her accent comes and goes throughout The Ark (sometimes within the same episode).  This may not be Lane's fault entirely: as an actress, she did as she was asked, and she was asked to add and drop it by both the director and the higher-ups at the BBC.  She cannot be held responsible for being given contradictory direction (which I imagine must have been maddening for her).  However, we might overlook her wayward East End roots if it weren't for other factors.  No one in her right mind would have allowed her to wear such a silly costume for a story like The Ark: it distracts endlessly from what is suppose to be rather serious business.  It also makes her character look incredibly stupid. 

It does not help that Dodo comes off as annoying within the first ten minutes of The Ark in her cheeriness and her accent (right down to using the word 'fab' for 'fabulous').  Moreover, there is an unpleasant shift in the relationship between the Doctor and his newest Companion.  There is an air of hostility between the Doctor and Dodo, as if he just doesn't like her and is unhappy to have her around.  Unlike his relationships with other young, female companions (his granddaughter Susan, or Vicki, or Katarina and Sara Kingdom), there is no suggestion of tenderness and/or fondness for Dodo.  Only once, when in Episode Two the Doctor and Dodo watch with concern the trial with Steven in the witness box, do we even get the slightest suggestion that they have any positive feelings for each other.  For most of The Ark, the Doctor reprimands Dodo for one thing or another (primarily her English, though why he would care more about that than her cold we never get an answer to).

Finally, Lane's actual performance leaves much to be desired.  She may have been trying to be a simply East End girl, but again she just comes off as dumb.  When she says that the Monoids look "terrifying", the line is niether delivered well or believeably. 

Not that Purves' performance is any better.  Steven has never shaken his ability to look a bit dense from his own debut story as a companion, and here, he doesn't seem to believe that they are aboard a spaceship.  How many times will it take for Steven to believe the Doctor?  When the story shifts to the struggle with the Monoids, Steven appears to be secondary to where the Guardians themselves could have had a leader of the revolution. 

The guest stars also do a lot of damage.  Elliot's commentaries as the Commander during the trial as he lay dying are bizarre to say the least, and badly acted.  He, however, is nothing compared to Jackson's Zentos.  His wild overacting in Episode One especially is something to be seen with awe.  It is just so over-the-top one wonders how they could have made him Deputy Dogcatcher, let alone Deputy Commander.  Terrence Woodfield as Maharis, the Guardian collaborator who alerts the Guardians as to the Monoids true intentions, is better but he also comes off as stupid: knowing that the Monoids want to blow them all up, why would he still want to serve the Monoids?

I want to take a digression to wonder about the Guardian's costumes.  Daphne Dare does it again: she gave the Guardians short skirts cut into straps that barely hide their underwear.  I thought the costumes were quite daring for outer space, almost provocative.  However, the Guardians must have liked them, given that they wore them 700 years later, they obviously were no slaves to fashion. 

Now, let's have some positive details on The Ark.  Tristram Cary's score (particularly in Episode One) is extremely effective: having both a familiar and otherworldly feel at the same time.   While Imison's direction of the actors was shaky, his visual effects and cinematography are some of the best in First Doctor-era Doctor Who.  The destruction of the Earth at the end of Episode One is beautifully filmed, and the imagery of the Monoid head on the statue at the end of Episode Two is quite effective (with the score enhancing the feel).

Overall, The Ark is a failure for a myriad of reasons: weak/silly monsters (candidates for Worst Monsters in Doctor Who--again for another time), a terrible Companion (again, a candidate for Worst Companion in Doctor Who) some bad acting (and quite revealing costumes--can't get over that one), and a jumbled story that would have worked better if there had been a focus to one plot or another rather than mashing two stories together. 

In the end, the question shouldn't be "Who built The Ark?" but "Who see The Ark?"  The response: "No One, No One".  "Who see The Ark?"  "No one should go watch The Ark".

Now, a bit of housekeeping.  The next story (The Celestial Toymaker) is sadly, again, another lost story, with only the last episode (The Final Test) currently known to exist.  The following complete story is the four-part The Gunfighters.  As before, a short retrospective on Episode Four of The Celestial Toymaker will be made, followed by a review of the next complete story. 

3/10

Next Story: The Celestial Toymaker

Doctor Who Story 021: The Daleks' Master Plan

STORY 021: THE DALEKS' MASTER PLAN

The Best Laid Plans of Daleks & Men Go Missing...

From reading the outline of the twelve-part epic story The Daleks' Master Plan (which has the record for the longest story in Doctor Who*), it looked like a strong story.  However, due to the lack of foresight of the higher-ups, the story is alas, incomplete.  It has in fairness fared better than the three preceding stories (Galaxy Four, Mission to the Unknown, and The Massacre of St. Bartholomew's Eve) in that we have any complete episodes at all.  As of this writing, a quarter of the story remains: Episode Two (Day of Armageddon), Episode Five (Counter Plot), and Episode Ten (Escape Switch).  It is rather difficult to give an overall review of The Daleks' Master Plan without actually having The Daleks' Master Plan to review.  However, since three episodes survive, I've opted to review those episodes and give an overall ranking to what remains of Story 021.  It's not a happy solution, but the best one can do under less-than-ideal circumstances. 

We need a bit of background.  The lost story Mission to the Unknown is a prequel to The Daleks' Master Plan.  The Daleks have decided they will conquer the universe (no surprise there).  The plot is discovered but those who know have been silenced before they can reveal all.  In the interim, The Doctor (William Hartnell) has lost his Companion Vicki (Maureen O'Sullivan), who has decided to stay on in Troy and take the name Cressida.  In her place, Katarina (Adrienne Hill), a handmaiden to the prophetess Cassandra, has boarded the TARDIS, in awe of the Doctor and Steven (Peter Purves).  With that, you should be up to speed.

Episode 2 (Day of Armageddon) has the Guardian of the Solar System Mavic Chen (Kevin Stoney) plotting with the Daleks to conquer all the galaxies.  Of course, both Chen and the Daleks are using each other and planning to betray the other at the first opportunity.  The Doctor, Steven, and Katarina join with Bret Vyon (Nicholas Courtney) to defeat the unholy alliance of Dalek and Chen.  The main task through all of The Daleks' Master Plan is to keep the rare mineral taranium away from them.  This material will aid them taking over and destroying the universe (perhaps all time itself). 

By the time we get to Episode Five (Counter Plot) poor Katarina has died: she opened the air-lock while held captive by a prisoner on Desperus, a planet they had crashed to while escaping with the taranium, and was swept out into space.  Vyon has also died, killed by Sara Kingdom (Jean Marsh), a loyal soldier in Chen's service.  A transport experiment now has swept the Doctor, Steven, and Sara to another planet, Mira, with the Daleks in mad pursuit.  On this planet, the native Visians are invisible but dangerous.  The Daleks, however, have tracked the trio down and the Doctor chillingly announces that "The Daleks have won".

Now, by Episode Ten (Escape Switch), we see the Daleks have not won.  The trio has managed to escape and now are in Egypt of the pharaohs.  In the midst of the chases, a new figure has entered the mad race: the Meddling Monk from The Time Meddler (this time he is billed as the Meddling Monk instead of just The Monk, so we can refer to him as The Meddling Monk).  He wants his revenge, but instead has gotten mixed up in the whole affair and is taken prisoner with Steven and Sara.  The Doctor has no choice but to give the real taranium core in exchange for all of them.  They manage to escape (thanks in part to local Egyptians who attack the Daleks--go Lotus Revolution!), leaving the Meddling Monk stranded on an ice planet, but the trio are engulfed by a massive explosion.

The final two episodes (the now-lost The Abandoned Planet and The Destruction of Time) wrap up the story.  In short: the Daleks are defeated but at the cost of Sara Kingdom's life (in a rather gruesome end, she ages to the point of disintegration).   With that, the Doctor and Steven are off to face another adventure.

After watching the surviving episodes of The Daleks' Master Plan, it's a credit to Terry Nation and Dennis Spooner (who wrote the scripts for this massive twelve-part story) and especially director Douglas Camfield that they don't appear as disjointed as they could have.  It helps when you have one object (in this case, the taranium core) be at the center of the story. Each of the surviving episodes has a strong and steady pace and packs a lot of information, action, and even comedy to it (the bumbling scientists in Episode 5 being the prime example). 

One of the best things about the surviving episodes of The Daleks' Master Plan is just how well-acted they are.  Stoney clearly delights in his malevolence as Mavic Chen (although the fact that a character with a vaguely Asian background is played by a European might be troublesome now, I see the character as having no real ethnicity because by this time in the Earth's future, one imagines ethnicity is rather a moot point, but I digress).  Throughout the episodes, he never shifts from being both evil and charismatic, a perfect villain to match the Daleks.  Peter Buttersworth is a delight to have back as the comic yet dangerous Meddling Monk, who is both delightfully evil and duplicitous (with the only caveat being that one wonders if he got thrown in just to be thrown in).  Courtney's Vyon is a tough soldier, a man who doesn't shrink from seeing Katarina killed because he sees the importance of sacrificing one life so that the rest can live.  This applies to himself, he too in the end sacrifices himself for the others. 

Of the performances in The Daleks' Master Plan, the best is Marsh's Sara Kingdom.  In the first episode we see her in (Episode 5), she is a no-nonsense soldier.  By the time we see the last of her (Episode 10), she is a full partner in helping the Doctor (though Marsh insists Sara Kingdom was NOT a Companion, I believe she was, but that debate is for another time).  The humanity behind the toughness of Sara came through, and the fact that she was in only ONE story but still leaves an emotional impact is testament to both Marsh as an actress and Kingdom as a character.

There are within the three episodes a few flaws.  I am not fond of invisible monsters (it screams 'cheap' and 'unbelievable'), and the wigs of the Egyptians in Episode 10 were comical (looking like they had wandered from a Beatles look-alike contest).  As a whole, twelve episodes was probably far too long (and having read the synopsis of Episode Seven: The Feast of Steven, at least one episode was totally irrelevant to the story). 

Even with the missing episodes, The Daleks' Master Plan is still a remarkably strong story that is worth restoring, with great performances by Courtney, Stoney, and especially Jean Marsh.  The Master Plan may have failed, but we treasure what remains.

Now for some housekeeping.  Story 022: The Massacre of St. Bartholomew's Eve (or just The Massacre) has no known surviving episodes, clips, or even off-air recordings.  However, it is important because the next Companion, Dodo Chaplet (Jackie Lane), makes her debut in the story, and she will make her first full-story appearance in the next surviving story, Story 023: The Ark. 

7/10

Next Story: The Ark

* Here we have a curious issue among Whovians.  There is debate as to whether or not the season-long Trial of A Time Lord counts as ONE story or as FOUR.  Those who count it as 1 story will point out that at fourteen episodes it's longer than The Daleks' Master Plan.  Those who count it as 4 will argue that it can't possible be the longest.  Now, an argument can be made both ways. 

The pro-Trial group states that the story had ONE title with Episodes 1-14.  The anti-Trial group will point out that The Daleks' Master Plan had TWELVE titles but is really ONE story.  In this debate, I fall squarely on the anti-Trial side. 

With Doctor Who, titles border on the irrelevant because there has never been any consistency.  In the First Doctor's era, each episode had an individual title but was tied into one particular story until the now-lost story The Savages, which began the tradition of having each story carry an overall title and each episode being Part One, Part Two, etc. The revived series has gone BACK (to my mind bizarrely) to the First Doctor's title methods: the three episodes Utopia, The Sound of Drums, and Last of the Time Lords make up ONE story but (Russell T Davies notwithstanding), I never hear people argue they are THREE stories. (Side note: MY overarching title for these three episodes is Vengeance of The Master, since one of most iconic villains has never had the privilege of having his name on a title.  The Daleks have, the Cybermen have, the Sontarans have, even the Rani has, but the poor Master has never had any story called Blank of The Master or The Master's Blank...until now).  That being said, I believe The Daleks' Master Plan still remains the longest Doctor Who story filmed, but since it is incomplete, the longest complete Doctor Who story is at the moment the ten-episode Second Doctor story The War Games. 

Daddy Dearest

STORY 167: FATHER'S DAY

Father's Day had some of that 'the 80s were a funny decade' business (those clothes!  that hair!  that terrible Thatcher!), but nostalgia tends to bring a bit of mockery.   What Father's Day has at its core is an extremely gentle and heartbreaking story that puts the Companion as the focus of the story, and which makes her one of us in a way that few Companions ever have been so relateable. 

Rose Tyler (Billie Piper) never got to know her father.  Peter Tyler (Shawn Dingwall) died in a hit-and-run accident when she was a baby.  Her mother Jackie (Camille Corduri) waxes rhapsodic about what a great man Pete was to her daughter.  Jackie tells her that when he died, they never found the driver and that he died alone;  now Rose has asked The Doctor (Christopher Eccleston) if she can see him on the day he died, so that he would not die alone.  The Doctor, albeit reluctantly, agrees. 

They go to November 7, 1987, and Rose sees her father run over while getting out of his car on his way to a wedding.  She is too torn to go to Pete, and asks to try again.  The Doctor gives in but warns her of the dangers of having an earlier version of themselves at the same place.  This time, as the car comes towards her father, her impulse takes over and she rushes to pull Pete out of the way. The Doctor is furious at her interference with a point in history, they fight, and he walks out on her.  Pete, thinking the Doctor is her boyfriend, tells her not to worry, and Rose tells him she is also going to the same wedding.  When the Doctor gets to the TARDIS, he discovers to his horror that it is only an empty box.

When Pete and Rose get to the church, Jackie is extremely unhappy.  She thinks Rose is a girl Pete is having an affair with (something he may have done before, though he protests his innocence about when he was found underneath a pile of coats with a hatcheck girl).  In the meantime, strange creatures are taking people out by devouring them.  A child runs toward the church, screaming about monsters, and soon, everyone in the wedding party sees said monsters.  The Doctor, having rushed to the church, tells everyone to get inside to take shelter within the old building.

Soon, the Doctor tells everyone what is going on.  There has been a wound in time (though he doesn't tell them it's because Pete did  not die as he was suppose to).  Now these creatures are taking advantage of the wound by removing every living thing in sight: the younger the more vulnerable.  Rose realizes that by saving her father she has brought these monsters, and soon, Pete realizes the girl who saved him (and at one point called him "Dad" is the infant Rose all grown up).  The Doctor comes up with a plan to save them, and thanks to the fact that the TARDIS itself was thrown out of the time wound, it still exists and can be brought back. 

Jackie is still suspicious of this pretty young thing Pete has been talking to, and refuses to believe his story that it's their own daughter.  In the midsts of their fight, Jackie hands baby Rose over to adult Rose, inadvertedly does the one thing Rose was told not to do: touch the infant version of herself.  When she does so, the creature manages to enter the church and devours the Doctor as well as the TARDIS.  Pete has been observing that a car has been circling the church, disappearing and appearing at intervals.  Pete realizes that with the Doctor gone, the only thing left to do is to make history take its proper course by putting himself in front of the car and allowing himself to die as he was suppose to do.  Rose is torn at having to lose her father again, but Pete tells her that the few hours he had that he didn't before have allowed him to know the daughter he would never see grown.  Pete rushes outside, avoids the creatures and is run over.

The story concludes with Jackie telling the young Rose the story of how her father died...but with a few differences.  Now, the young man who accidently ran over Pete stayed.  It was not his fault since Pete had just darted out in front of him before he had a chance to stop.  More importantly, a young woman had stayed with Pete in his last few moments and then left, with no one knew who she was.

Paul Cornell's script for Father's Day is one where the science-fiction is secondary to the human story within it.  The story is centered around not an external alien threat or even around the Reapers (the name given to the monsters thought I don't think they were ever referred to as that on-air).  Instead, it deals with a far more complex situation: the human desire to change history for the better (at least to the one doing the changing) and the impulse to save a loved one, to have them stay longer.  This wish to have more time with those who are no longer with us is a universal one, and that central point is what makes Father's Day an extremely personal story that touches the emotions.   Having gotten to know Rose, we know that her father's absence left a great hole in her heart.  Now, in a moment of impulse, she does what as an infant she could never have done: saved her father's life and more importantly, gotten to know him.

Of course, Father's Day adds some humor by showing that things between Pete and Jackie were not how The Widow Tyler presented them to her daughter.  If truth be told, I think all of us suspect that the stories our parents told about each other and themselves had a bit of shading.  For those who have children, the stories told might be exagerrated to make the parents look better or smarter.  This isn't always the case, but especially for those who have no memories of parents who are gone, presenting the dead in a more positive light appears to be better: to show the missing parent as good is a very human thing to do.  It may also be that the stories Jackie told the young Rose about Peter may have been how she wanted him to be remembered. It should be noted that, despite having a husband who may have cheated on her and who was failing in all his financial ventures, Jackie never remarried and always stayed true to Pete's memory.  In short, Father's Day is the cry of the heart of the Tyler women: for Jackie, a chance to keep Pete alive and realize that she did truly love him (warts and all), and for Rose, a chance to bond with a man who was always a shadow in her life.

These are the moments that make Father's Day so brilliant.  Piper is given an opportunity to be the center of the story, and moreover, a wonderful chance to actually act.  She communicates the conflicts within this simple girl: love for her absent father, confusion as to how the reality of her parent's situation was different to how it was presented, and finally acceptance that she had to let go of her own desires for the complete unit.  Her joy at finally getting to know her father, and then her heartbreak at having to lose him, is done so beautifully that the scenes between Piper and Dingwall are truly some of the best in Doctor Who.

Dingwall and Coduri are also wonderful as the troubled Tylers, people who have genuine flaws but who at heart love each other and especially their daughter.  Coduri maintains Jackie's combative nature but as in previous episodes never makes her a harpy or shrew.  She's just a woman who doesn't suffer fools gladly, and that includes her husband's philandering.  The credit should go to Joe Ahearne's sharp direction of people.  He brings all the conflicting human emotions and draws wonderful performances from Piper, Dingwall, and Coduri.

Ahearne also manages to keep the story going smoothly.  Never in Father's Day does anything seem to drag or conversely appear rushed, and it's a credit to him as a director that he kept a steady pace throughout the story. 

It's a curious thing that Eccleston for once is the secondary character.  Granted, he's the one looked at to sort the dangerous situation out, but again, the Doctor isn't the one who can ultimately fix this.  He's got hints of the manic Doctor, but he can rage like the best of them.

Another curiosity in Father's Day is, oddly, how uninteresting the danger from the Reapers was.  Truth be told, I wasn't interested in how these creatures were devouring people in some effort to heal this wound in time.  It's a rare Doctor Who where the alien aspects of the story are not the things that keep me riveted.  In this case, it was the intereaction between Rose and Pete that was teh far more interesting thing.  The Reapers as monsters weren't terryfing or interesting, but in this case I think it was because we needed some consequence of what could happen when history is altered, even ever so slightly.  It appears that by saving Pete Tyler, history is getting jumbled (Alexander Graham Bell's first message keeps getting crossed over into the wedding party's cell phones--curious that they had cell phones in the late 80s). 

Also, I didn't quite believe the idea that the TARDIS got thrown out of the time wound and how the Doctor was going to fix things.  In this case, I hold that the emotional story was more important than the scientific one.  Therefore, one won't be too harsh on it. 

Father's Day really is about accepting death, of knowing that we all have to let go of those we can't hold anymore, and of sacrifice.  It's a remarkably human story that would easily fit outside the realms of Doctor Who, which is what makes it so brilliant.  I'll grant that the Reapers aren't interesting, and in an odd way seeing the Doctor himself devoured by the Reapers wasn't as shocking as one thinks it should have been (seeing the TARDIS be empty was more shocking).  Still, on the whole Father's Day is a simply tender and beautiful and sad story, one that is deeper than most stories have been.  This is because it reaches you at the emotional level, not with supernatural threats but with ordinary human flaws and emotions. 

Father's Day allows us to get to know Rose far more than we have: both her heart and how she may think she's doing good when she really isn't.  We get to see what she is willing to do for Pete's sake...

10/10

Next Story: THE EMPTY CHILD (The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances)