The Doctors Who's Who (12 page)

WHEN TOM BAKER
shook his curly hair, flashed those bright white teeth and opened those big staring eyes, a new Doctor was born.

Well, not quite. It took at least Baker’s first story, ‘Robot’, for him to win over the faithful, i.e. for the fans to get used to this new eccentric character. Like Jon Pertwee before him, Baker embedded a little humour into the scariest moments and, like William Hartnell, he ensured that fans never saw him – the actor Tom Baker – doing anything as human as smoking or drinking. He was almost angelic in that respect. He instinctively knew the importance and power of the role – the Pied Piper’s enigmatic characteristics so crucial to the Doctor’s make-up (where did he come from? where did he go to? what was his motive? how did he come to be the
creature he was? why did he not do human things? and what magic power did he possess in that long multi-coloured – pied – scarf?).

There was a natural fun about Tom Baker and this fitted nicely into his interpretation of the Doctor. But who was Tom Baker? Where did he come from?

Thomas Stewart Baker was born in Scotland Road, Liverpool, on 20 January 1934 to a Jewish father (John Stewart Baker) and a Catholic mother (Mary Jane).

Being in the Navy, Baker’s father was hardly home, but he did instil his Jewish values into his son, while his mother brought him up as a staunch working-class Catholic. No wonder then that he left school at 15 to become a monk and live a monastic life for six years.

Baker said in an interesting video-only documentary,
Just Who on Earth is Tom Baker?
, that fantasy was very much part of the atmosphere of the house he grew up in; fantasy in a religious sense. From about the age of five he was made very aware of the omnipresence of God: no matter what he did or where he was, God was watching him, and he found this very inhibiting. But it still didn’t stop him from becoming, as he describes it, a ‘professional liar’. Every Wednesday morning he would go to Confession and every Wednesday morning, he would come up with a pack of lies that took him through the process. He later highlighted that as a major influence on him becoming a professional actor, citing many good actors are professional liars by trade.

Baker was a liar because he had to create a sin he had committed at an age when he had no sin to admit, but this didn’t turn him away from religion; he embraced it. He joined a monastery because it was something heroic, something that could take him away from the numbing boredom of working-class
life in Liverpool. But it wasn’t to last: he would leave and National Service soon followed.

Baker served in the Royal Army Medical Corps between 1955 and 1957. Some say it was here that he got the acting bug, but he believes that the acting spirit was there back in the confessional of his youth.

In the early 1960s, he fell in love and married Anna Wheatcroft. The marriage lasted five years and produced two sons. He would later lose contact with his first family, but acting soon became his main passion and he took many small roles as animals (or
parts
of animals, such as the back of a cow). Baker’s success was not overnight.

Most of his work in the late 1960s was on stage, but he did secure roles in two episodes of BBC’s
Dixon of Dock Green
and a film version of
The Winter’s Tale
, which seems to have faded into obscurity, or maybe mediocrity.

In 1971, bored with playing parts of animals on stage – to Laurence Olivier’s amusement – Baker turned down the opportunity of a tour of America, believing that he could get better parts in the UK while everyone was abroad. Indeed, the opportunity soon arose, playing alongside Laurence Olivier, Joan Plowright, Derek Jacobi and Jeremy Brett in
The Merchant of Venice
. Baker was desperate for a speaking role and found the only part open to him was that of the Prince of Morocco. Unfortunately, the director wanted a dwarf to play the part, but an undaunted Baker strode in to the audition and said, ‘Sorry about the height, I was brought up a Roman Catholic.’ And suddenly the Prince of Morocco was a taller man.

Baker has fond memories of working with such great actors as Olivier and Brett. He admitted in his autobiography
Who on Earth is Tom Baker?
(HarperCollins, 1997) that they made him
more extravagant as an actor. Olivier persuaded him to take risks in
The Merchant of Venice
and developed a bit of a soft spot for Baker, later telling him that his eyes were perfect for the stage, that they could penetrate the back rows of any theatre. In
The Musical Murders of the 1940s
(Greenwich Theatre), nearly 15 years later, it was obvious when he was on stage during darker moments; when cast in shadows, there was only one actor in the company who towered over everybody else, and that was Tom. His height, teeth, hair and eyes gave him much character on both stage and screen and he really came to public prominence in 1974 when he became Doctor Who.

Elizabethan plays have been a staple in Baker’s career. ‘A marvellous Elizabethan play’ (Baker’s words) is
A Woman Killed with Kindness
, in which he starred alongside Derek Jacobi after
The Merchant of Venice
. But it was Olivier who suggested Baker for his first film role, as Grigori Rasputin in
Nicholas and Alexandra
. Olivier took a part himself, but it was Baker who stole the film. His performance begins humble but sinister. The eyes say it all, exposing a chilling depth behind a calm exterior. But then he becomes more passionate and angry. ‘I spent two years in a monastery and then I walked home again,’ he states in the movie, and one cannot fail to spot the connection with Baker’s own life. Indeed, his intensity and conviction of beliefs clearly come from a deep understanding of religion. The role of Rasputin was perfect for Baker, and Olivier was absolutely right to suggest him for the part.

This powerful role led to Baker being nominated for two Golden Globe Awards, one for Best Actor in a Supporting Role and another for Best Newcomer.

So, after sacrificing a trip to America, Baker had created an opportunity to play alongside some of the cream of British acting, with plaudits too.

It is interesting, but not necessarily surprising, that Laurence Olivier had a hand in two Doctors’ fledgling acting careers, Patrick Troughton and Tom Baker, as well as being a good friend of Jon Pertwee. Olivier was always good at spotting young talent and getting the best out of everyone, and one can see a very positive move in the right direction when he gets involved with Troughton and Baker (and also Peter Cushing – another Doctor Who – as we will later examine).

Baker’s next key role in cinema came in 1973:
The Golden Voyage of Sinbad
. He played Prince Koura, a black-hearted wizard who attempts to thwart Sinbad in his quest. ‘Every voyage is a new flavour,’ Sinbad says, and
The Golden Voyage
is one of the most memorable adventures in
Sinbad
film history. Although the plot is basic, the movie is a classic piece of fantasy. Lavish locations, sets and costumes provide a magnificent backdrop to Ray Harryhausen’s wonderful stop-motion animation.

Caroline Munro is the beautiful love interest alongside John Phillip Law’s excellent Sinbad who, through their heroic deeds, make Baker appear even more black-hearted and sinister.

With the use of vintage trick photography, Baker’s serious, intelligent performance enhances the impact of the overall movie. ‘He who is patient
obtains
,’ he tells his sea captain as they pursue Sinbad towards the fabled Fountain of Destiny.

Prince Koura is one of Baker’s most sinister roles, and one that endures and captivates children to this very day. In fact, being only a year before he took over the part of Doctor Who,
The Golden Voyage of Sinbad
captured the magic of Baker’s acting skills that were quintessential to his interpretation of the Doctor. He never overplays or camps the role, keeping enough back to be plausible.

One scene is of particular note, which nicely blends Baker’s
acting skills with Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion creations: it is where Koura employs his sorcery in making a ship’s female figurehead come to life to do battle with Sinbad and his crew. Throughout the suspenseful scene, Baker uses mime and his own physical props (large piercing blue eyes) to show his character’s inner turmoil. When the scene is over, Baker’s character has physically aged; such is the price of summoning the demons of darkness.

In another scene, Baker plays with a tiny winged demon that he has brought to life with drops of his own blood. Using mime and the playful way one talks to a pet budgerigar, he makes the incredible seem plausible. Perhaps all of this helped convince the BBC that Baker could be the next Doctor.

The Golden Voyage of Sinbad
is a film that encapsulates the dying embers of the out-and-out swashbuckling movie, which the first Douglas Fairbanks Jnr movie in the series so blatantly was. With an early appearance from Martin Shaw (from TV show
The Professionals
),
The Golden Voyage of Sinbad
is an important milestone in fantasy cinema, as it highlights the best of model-making monster techniques.

If the part of Prince Koura prepared Baker for the role of the Doctor, it certainly wasn’t the most important factor. That fell to his inclusion in an earlier BBC Play of the Month entitled
The Millionairess
(1972). Baker worked alongside Maggie Smith in this production, blacking up for the part of an Egyptian dignitary (not unlike the Arab Prince Koura, perhaps). But it was the director Bill Slater who would become crucial to Baker’s future success.

One Sunday evening, a couple of years after
The Millionairess
, Baker wrote to Slater and asked him if there were any regular parts going at the BBC for an actor like him. He posted his letter that Monday morning, the same day as Slater,
soon-to-be head of series, had a meeting with
Doctor Who
producer Barry Letts.

Baker didn’t know that Jon Pertwee had quit the show and that other actors were being considered for the part (in his autobiography, Baker mentions that Graham Crowden and Richard Hearn had at least been considered).

The casting meeting between Letts and Slater drew no conclusions, so they decided to reconvene later that week and, because of Slater’s workload, that meant Wednesday.

On Tuesday, Baker’s letter arrived at the BBC. After several late meetings, Slater went home with Baker’s letter and read it before getting into bed with his wife, Mary Webster. It was 11.15pm. Having discussed his day with his wife over supper, it was suggested that perhaps Baker would be a good choice as the Doctor. Mary suggested that Slater call Baker, despite the time. He did. Baker answered. Slater asked if he could get to TV Centre for a 6.30pm meeting the following day. Baker said he could. That was it. Everybody went to bed.

The following morning Slater had his casting meeting with Barry Letts. He suggested Baker for the role and told Letts that the actor was coming in at 6.30pm.

When Baker walked in – on time – Slater took him to head of drama Shaun Sutton’s office, where Slater, Sutton and Letts talked things over with the nervous actor. After nearly an hour, Slater said, ‘We’ve got an idea, you see, Tom. Do you think you could come back and see us tomorrow?’

Baker agreed. The following day, he went to work on a building site and then went home and got changed, had something to eat and turned up slightly late at the BBC, but soon found himself back in the same office with the same people. There was a brief silence before he was asked, ‘Would you like to be the new Doctor Who?’

Baker had been so depressed and cash-strapped that he had written a begging letter to Slater, who was now offering him the biggest role in television. All he could do was nod, and nod again, and again. And then he was asked to keep his joyous news a secret for ten days, which somehow – fearing the part might be taken away from him – he managed to do, until, of course, he walked into the BBC Headquarters at Wood Lane with a friend as chaperone to attend a press conference announcing him as the new Doctor. Everybody wanted to touch him or shake his hand and he just rode the crest of the wave, knowing that he could now pack in the job as general labourer. Instead, he was suddenly a renegade Time Lord.

None of his predecessors had enjoyed so much celebrity on taking the part, but the show had built up a huge fan base over the years, and the announcement of a new Doctor was big news.

While celebrating in the West End with his friend, Baker picked up the second edition of the
Evening Standard
and saw his face plastered over it. ‘Oh bliss. Fuck off anonymity, hello everybody,’ he declared in his autobiography, and the relief was that joyous.

Although Baker had played some great roles and acted with some of the most important professionals of the 20th century, work had dried up, he had become depressed, he had taken a labouring job and then –
Doctor Who
.

‘And this whirligig of activity went on for all my time as Doctor Who. Suddenly the crowd who’d found me boring found me fascinating…’

Who on Earth is Tom Baker? An Autobiography
Tom Baker

Although Baker would make the part of the Doctor his own, with his jelly babies and floppy hat, his multi-coloured overlong scarf came about by accident. James Acheson, the costume designer, had provided too much wool to the knitter, Begonia Pope, and she used it all up. It was Baker’s wish to use the final ridiculously long scarf, which is now the most iconic piece of
Doctor Who
costume in the show’s history. If you refer to somebody’s scarf as ‘a Doctor Who scarf’, you quickly get the impression of something colourful and a little too long.

When Baker finally took to the controls of the TARDIS, he found that Barry Letts – who had effectively given him the job – had wanted to leave the show with Jon Pertwee. Letts did, in fact, stay for a while, directing the Baker story ‘The Androids Invasion’. Elisabeth Sladen, who played Pertwee’s feisty journalist companion, Sarah Jane Smith, was still very much part of the show, which must have pleased Baker (it wasn’t a mass exodus after Pertwee’s exit). Also, for his first season, Ian Marter became the Doctor’s companion and the three actors developed a great rapport, both on and off camera.