Running Through Corridors: Rob and Toby's Marathon Watch of Doctor Who (Volume 1: The 60s) (39 page)

That some of the acting is rubbish (the Clantons are, at least, consistently awful) is less of a hindrance here than it would be in other stories – this is
supposed
to be a send up, after all. I don’t think these actors deliberately chose to play it that way, but that almost adds to the charm – there’s a really odd moment, after Phin has been arrested, where Ike Clanton suddenly gets very camp and minces off, which is very bizarre but also a bit wonderful.

But I absolutely agree that the episode belongs to Laurence Payne, who is all subtle menace and impressively cool in his black leather trousers. It’s great how his method of chatting up Kate entails threatening her with a pistol (“Marry me or I’ll shoot you” – try it lads, it works!), and his scene with Charlie is fantastically amoral and effortlessly menacing. And with my having fallen off the non-smoking wagon and only just climbed back on it, I also note with annoyance how cool he looks puffing on his cheroot.

After New Earth was broadcast in 2006, Payne wrote to one of the national papers (The Times, I think) praising the imagination of the new series. I therefore find it doubly sad – especially when I’ve just watched his performance here, in which he’s strong, powerful, robust and untouchable – to hear that he died just a few days ago. In real life, regrettably, we can only travel through time in one direction.

March 1st

The O.K. Corral (The Gunfighters episode four)

R:
It’s the last time that Doctor Who uses individual episode titles (that is, until that Slitheen story in 2005 upsets the apple cart, provoking wails of concern about whether it should be called Aliens of London or World War Three), and by doing so spoils the fun for fans arguing about how they should actually refer to all these adventures. Personally, I don’t see why the fun should stop. I’m still going to think of, say, The Sontaran Experiment as The Destructors (as made canon by the BBC Sound Effects Album!), or Delta and the Bannermen as Flight of the Chimeron, or Dalek as The One Where I Panicked Over Deadlines For Seven Months.

The episode opens with the Doctor and the Earps taking off their hats in respect of the dead – and it’s a marked change in tone from the merry comedy of the past three instalments. As if to acknowledge this, there’s a lovely moment where Hartnell rests his hand upon the table – only to realise grimly that he’s touching a corpse. Just as he did in The Myth Makers, Donald Cotton here lets the laughs die outright, and we’re presented with a massacre. What began as a running joke – with the Doctor protesting against being given guns – becomes an earnest appeal for peace and reason, as he tries to dissuade both Wyatt Earp and Pa Clanton from a course of action that can only result in bloodshed. The odd thing about this new, more sober approach is that it doesn’t really leave any room for our series regulars at the climax, and for the first time since The Reign of Terror, the show is somewhat gazumped by proper history. Dodo gets to be a hostage for Johnny Ringo for a minute, but otherwise it’s remarkable how unimportant the TARDIS crew are to the resolution of this adventure – especially considering that Cotton clearly wasn’t concerned with the accuracy of the history. He tries to rectify this in his novelisation by allowing the Doctor to shoot Billy Clanton accidentally – but by doing so, of course, he keeps the comedy coming even through the death-filled finale. I rather prefer the TV version, even if it means our heroes are sidelined. Rex Tucker stages the gunfight impeccably, and for a few minutes the BBC really
are
doing a Western, and there are no holds barred – for once, there’s a climax to a story which genuinely feels grand and effective. Truth to say, that’s only because there’s no sign of the Doctor anywhere – it only works because you can let yourself believe for a while you’re not watching Doctor Who at all.

T:
The grand finale of this story entails us leaving the studio (and the medium of videotape) behind for an impressively staged gunfight, all done on film, with sweeping crane movements, high angles and loads of gunfire. The Earps look cool walking calmly up the street, and even the ballad suggests things ain’t so much fun any more. What was a comedy for so long ends with brutal stuff: Doc Holliday coldly shoots Billy again and
again
, and Ike’s doomed ascent up the stairs is pretty horrifying. He finds himself out of bullets and with nowhere to turn, as the “good guys” calmly and calculatedly take aim and take turns shooting him down. The only thing missing from this slaughter is Johnny Ringo’s parting shot from the wonderfully witty novelisation – in which, having been shot, Ringo quips that his gall has just been divided into three parts.

There’s more substance to this episode than the final shootout, though – Hartnell has a commanding face off with the excellent Reed de Rouen (who as Pa Clanton gets to wear a fab costume), and Sheena Marshe acquits herself well in the same scene; she’s full of faux coquettishness before delivering a killer revelation. John Alderson’s grief at Warren’s death is dead straight, and his hoarse voice is laced with proper emotion. But it’s Doc Holliday himself who provides most of the colour for this episode – his hand-on-hip, self-aware entrance is as much fun as his cackling when he’s asked about “his way” of dealing with Johnny Ringo and the Clantons.

But ultimately the whole gunfight (the whole episode even) gives lie to Doctor Who – A Celebration’s hypothesis about this story. In labelling this the worst Doctor Who adventure of all time, that book accused the script of being pure Talbot Rothwell (it ain’t – there
is
silly wordplay sure, but it’s actually much more sophisticated than a Carry On film), of having acting that’s bad vaudeville (there’s a plethora of worse performances in The Ark and The Keys Of Marinus, to name but two) and direction that’s more West Ham than West Coast (a nice bit of wordplay there, but with no basis in truth). The piece then says this story was “not good – it was bad and ugly” – again, that’s well punned, but it’s also the sort of thing it accuses the script of doing. And then, of course, it’s blatantly wrong to say that this was the lowest-rated story ever (the worst of these episodes, at 5.7 million, still outperform the best of the very next story in line, at 5.6 million).

I worry here, Rob, that nothing we can say, and no amount of proof we can offer, will alter the embedded, general feeling that The Gunfighters is somehow worse than most of the black and white era – it really, really isn’t. Still, I should stop defending it – otherwise, some reviewer might get annoyed with my stroppiness and decide that the book they’re holding is the worst Doctor Who project ever. Even worse, they may that write that down, and then everyone might believe it for the next 25 years at least.

The Savages episode one

R:
Raymond Jones’ incidental music is fascinating, at one moment sounding like it’s aping the classical, with soaring violins giving a strange dignity to the proceedings – then suddenly becoming off key and dissonant and harsh. It sums up the mood of this episode very well, which at first feels like a real throwback to what we’ve seen before; even Dodo’s assertion that the TARDIS has brought them to the Iron Age echoes the setting of the very first adventure. And there remains a peculiar off key sense to the drama, filled as it is with tons of exposition offered very freely and amiably by quite the most welcoming people the Doctor has ever met on his travels (the council-leader Jano in particular, having charted the Doctor’s adventures, comes across a little like a leading member of the Doctor Who Appreciation Society), and yet sporadically spotted with dispassionate demonstrations of pleading savages undergoing medical operations. You long for the Doctor and company to get involved in the action, and I stifled a cheer when Dodo (of all people) becomes suspicious and inquisitive and goes off to look for a bit of drama rather than a guided tour. It’s at once the most didactic episode we’ve yet seen – it’s extraordinary just how much of this comes across as prose narrative – and whilst that doesn’t make for the most dramatic of episodes, its very oddness, like Jones’ music, does give a sense of unease. It’s Doctor Who, yes. But it’s not quite as we’re used to it.

I’m not necessarily saying that’s a good thing, or even a deliberate thing, but it is at least interesting. None of our regular characters seem to be quite right. Hartnell seems a mite confused by a Doctor who’s written as someone blander than he’s used to. Dodo picks a fight with Steven early on because she thinks he’s the Doctor’s lapdog who’ll never do anything for himself – which is so far removed from the way Steven has been written in every single other story since he was introduced. And, against the odds, Dodo has a backbone.

Now, of course, there’s a new producer on board in the form of Innes Lloyd, and Ian Stuart Black is here introduced as a new writer – and neither of them yet seem fully conversant with the style of the series. (It’s only a few weeks before this team have a computer talking openly about how it requires some bloke or other called “Dr Who”, of all things.) It’s as if all either of them have ever seen of the programme was some movie in the cinema, in which the lead was some slightly two-dimensional old duffer who had an interrogative as a surname. But, peculiarly enough, all this dissonance, this feeling that the programme just
isn’t quite right
, only makes this episode feel all the more fresh and skewed. This strange talky thing ought to be tedious, but it’s like a bridge between the old and established (Hartnell hanging on by his fingernails) and the completely new (everybody knowing who the Doctor is, and lots of action set in a quarry).

T:
Hmm... one of the disadvantages of “going second” in this guide book, Rob, is that there’s the rare occasion when you brilliantly say everything that needs to be said, leaving me with nothing to follow with! I don’t have much to add here beyond the fact that you’re right... this
is
an odd episode, but I think the oddness works in its favour. Despite the slow pace and innocent naivety on display here, a couple of ingredients make it curiously palatable. As you’ve already mentioned, the most striking element is the music – the use of strings is inspired; they can be at turns spooky and poignant, and (when the tempo is upped) add drama to the chase scenes. This is quite possibly the most effective and versatile score we’ve yet heard in the series – it’s unsettling and beautiful, all at the same time.

And the
other
key component that lends a sense of strangeness is the location filming. We no longer have the video of this story – so in truth I’m doing some guesswork here – but the telesnaps, for instance, suggest a great use of high angles in the Exorse/Nanina chase. It’s a cliché to say that Doctor Who does all its location filming in quarries, but
here
the quarry (again, as far as I can tell) is used very convincingly, and makes it look like the Doctor and his friends have indeed arrived at a stunning, sun-drenched alien vista.

So far, this story is unfolding at a leisurely pace, but I’m diverted enough. You’re right to say that it’s not quite like Doctor Who as we’ve come to know it, though, and hopefully the next episodes will help us determine why.

March 2nd

The Savages episode two

R:
If I thought Hartnell was at a bit at sea last week, here he finds a whole heap of righteous anger, and seizes it for all he’s worth. His fury against Captain Edal, and his assertion that all human life is precious, feels now like a mission statement for the series – and the caveman trappings of the story only serve to emphasise just how far we’ve come with his character since those early days of selfishness and amorality. It’s really rather a political script, this; it may seem none too subtle to modern eyes, with its tale of how the ruling elite come to subjugate and exploit the poor and less educated, but it’s so refreshing to see it tackled head on. It’s not a million miles away, of course, from the tale of the Guardians suppressing the Monoids we saw a few weeks ago – but this time the gloves are off, and the programme isn’t hiding behind the metaphor of mute monsters wearing ping pong balls in their mouths; these are
real
people being tortured. And if the Daleks couldn’t get on with the Thals, or the Drahvins with the Rills, they could always point at the aliens they hated and mention they were unlike themselves – when Jano and Edal do the same, and the only thing we can see different is that these animals they’re tyrannising have scraggy beards and don’t wear smart uniforms, then the effect is highly ironic. It makes these Elders, who claim to be so wise and sophisticated, look instead deeply stupid – for all of their technology, they can’t see they’re victimising their own kind.

And another cliché is introduced here, before it actually
becomes
a cliché – the amoral scientists so cheerfully flapping about their laboratories (the bubbling vats sound terrific!) that they’ve utterly shut themselves off from the implications of their work. The closest we’ve come to this before is in The Space Museum, where the Doctor got frozen for an episode – but that was nothing to the long cliffhanger here. The scientist Senta is so positively cheered by his wonderful success draining the Doctor’s life force that the episode ends upon a note of excited triumph – one that’s all the more sick for its affability. Senta isn’t crowing over his success like a villain, because he doesn’t
see
himself as a villain – he’s a well-spoken hard working scientist who’s just satisfied with a job well done. That’s what makes him so much more horrifying; an ordinary man who’s simply no conception that what he’s doing is evil.

T:
I’m trying to get an angle on this story – whereas I previously thought the quarry-filming was effectively used to convey an alien locale, we now seem to have moved into a slightly un-Doctor Whoey, cheesy yet dully sincere attempt to portray “the future”. To look at the pictures of Hartnell in his space costume, and the overall appearance of Jano and the Elders, I’m reminded of some of the futuristic episodes of Out of the Unknown, and it just doesn’t feel quite right.

Hartnell is once again in full command, though – he rattles off his lines without stumbling, and bristles with authority and indignation when standing up to Captain Edal. He’s doing what the Doctor does best – advocating for the weak and defenceless – and the oft-quoted “protracted murder” scene is the defining one of this serial. It’s a joy to see Hartnell and Frederick Jaeger (as Jano) reward the solid writing with performances to match. In fact, it’s a good episode all around for the regulars – Dodo is remarkably feisty when she wanders into the laboratory, and her stroppy side is brought out with brio by Jackie Lane. It’s telling though, that Steven gets the line “not even Dodo would be that stupid...”! Even the series itself seems to be admitting that she’d probably be out in the first round of Companion Academy.

I’m not quite sure why the guys in the lab mistake Dodo for a savage though. Didn’t her lack of animal skins suggest otherwise?

The Savages episode three

R:
When Frederick Jaeger finally emerges from the experiment, clutches his lapels and says “hmm” a lot, you get the feeling that at last the punchline has been delivered to a joke that’s had two and a half episodes’ set up. It’s a lovely, clever idea to give another character the Doctor’s life force, and to see the first Doctor performed by another actor... but it doesn’t actually work. Jaeger never sounds comfortable doing the imitation, and the best he can make out of it is a high-pitched caricature.

And thank God for that, because I think we’ve just dodged a bullet. We know that the production team are now actively considering ways that the series can survive Hartnell’s departure. Now, imagine if Jaeger had been a mite more impressive in the role. It might have convinced Innes Lloyd that, really,
anyone
could have a bash at the Doctor just by putting in all the same tics and mannerisms that the audience are already used to. And it would have meant that, in only a few months’ time, they might have approached the new incarnation much more conservatively. The show survives the transition to Troughton precisely because it
doesn’t
play safe – it doesn’t do a Cushing from the movies, or a Jaeger from The Savages, and instead looks for the contrasts rather than the similarities between the two Doctors. Jaeger’s failure here may mean that The Savages suffers, but Doctor Who as a whole benefits hugely. Senta’s tinkering in the laboratory really wasn’t the only experiment going on this week.

In The Space Museum (again), Hartnell sat out an episode, and the cliffhanger was simply Ian reacting with shock to an as-yet unseen Doctor. What makes the drama here work so much better is that this isn’t just an excuse to give Hartnell a holiday. He’s here in person, but dumb and weak – just one episode after he gave his fabulous tirade against the evils of the Elders, we’ve never seen him so feeble. What’s effective is that we really see the consequences of Senta’s life-draining device, and there’s nothing in the episode more shocking than hearing Hartnell manage no more at the episode’s end than groans and heavy breathing. And, once again, the production team’s experiment has failed – they’ve not even given him a single line this week, but still the most impressive thing about this episode is William Hartnell.

T:
Well, Rob, that’s a wonderfully thought out and argued hypothesis, but – as your friend – I have to say that it looks like you’re attempting to fulfill on your word count by spouting a load of old nonsense. You
seriously
think that this was a trial run on the production team’s part, to see if they could replace the leading man with a ringer? I’d argue, then, that you’re giving them a bit too much credit – it’s hard to swear that they’re even
watching
the show, let alone that they’re thinking about what’s happening all that closely.

Thanks though, for giving me something to argue with – it helps me to fill a paragraph about one of the most unremarkable episodes the programme has ever given us. Who knows, the visuals of this story may have been incredible, but I doubt it; Christopher Barry is a good and efficient director, but he doesn’t worry about pretty pictures. And without the benefit of moving images, I can only clutch at straws for commentary – from the telesnaps, it seems that Ewen Solon (playing the primitive Chal) has great make-up, and the set for the planet exterior looks pretty well realised. And I’m now getting seriously vexed on William Hartnell’s behalf – he’s not out on holiday here, he’s made to hang around all week so he can lie down and be a bit doddery at the end. He’s been treated pretty shoddily for about the past six months (except by Donald Cotton, actually).

But hang on a minute... it’s just hit me. This is an adventure where a rather dull and pious future society is revealed to be not-so idyllic, and where our series regulars must teach them the error of their ways by bringing our morality to their world, thus leaving it an equally dull (but more just) place. Meanwhile, a guest star gets to flex different acting muscles, and consequently has a bit of fun. Yes, that’s it! I know why this story seemed so odd in Doctor Who terms! It’s because I’m watching bloody Star Trek!

March 3rd

R:
Oh, come
on.
You don’t think that’s what the production team are doing here – that it’s a deliberate (and frankly very unpleasant) process in which they’re trying any means possible to get the programme working without Hartnell? You say yourself he’s been badly treated; it feels that every other story we’ve been watching recently tries either to give him as little air time as possible, or makes him literally invisible! So, yeah, I really
do
believe that had Frederick Jaeger done some lovely comic stint, clutching his lapels and saying “hmm” a lot, that in a week’s time we’d be analysing in our diaries some replacement actor getting up from the floor of the TARDIS doing nothing more than a Hartnell impersonation. Except we wouldn’t be analysing it at all, because Doctor Who would have ground to a halt long ago, and so we probably wouldn’t be doing these diaries in the first place.