Dr. Who: Carnival Of Monsters

I love the Jon Pertwee era Doctor Who like mad, but I’m not a massive fan of ‘Carnival of Monsters’ or, indeed, of the creeping, cringing sensation I get as I watch it. Is it the sock puppet monsters? The glam rock Bacofoil outfits? The insistently unsuccessful attempts at comic relief? Well, yeah, it’s all of that, but it’s mainly because Jon Pertwee doesn’t seem to be bothered, and that makes everything a bit stilted and sad.

Granted the freedom by the Timelords to take the TARDIS wherever he fancies, the Doctor heads for the beautiful blue planet of Metebelis 3 (a running joke in several stories is how he never quite gets there - and, when he finally does, it's bloody awful). Instead of going on holiday, however, he and Jo find themselves stuck in a futuristic contraption called a Miniscope, sort of a cross between a zoo and a ‘What The Butler Saw’ machine. There’s a Cyberman in there (the closest Pertwee came to one as an incumbent Doctor), an Ogron, and a load of vicious, drooly, shouty rubber dragon monsters called the Drashig. There’s also a British ocean liner populated by a group of awfully posh idiots who haven't noticed they are living the same day in 1926 over and over.

Outside of the miniscope a depressingly unfunny diplomatic incident is taking place between the miniscopes owner Vorg and his scatty asistant (grumpy old Leslie Dwyer and Cheryl Hall) and a race of pompous, squabbling bureaucrats who look like Sam the bald eagle from The Muppets and really get on your tits, although there is a good bit where one of their rubber skull caps goes a bit awry.

The Doctor and Jo have to basically get out of the Miniscopee before it blows up or is destroyed by the blue bonced powers that be, and this takes the best (worst?) part of two hours. Oh dear. Not so much a carnival as a tatty fairground sideshow.

Only ever mildly diverting, occasionally awful ‘Carnival of Monsters’ seems in many ways to herald the end of the very best of the Pertwee era, although he would continue in the role for another couple of years. There was something special about the Doctor being exiled to Earth, something unique and absolutely right for the time. Maybe Pertwee knew that as he just doesn't seem that into it, and looks weary and unmoved throughout. He's normally such a good reactor, for example, so much so that he quite often goes over the top. Here, his first sighting of the Drashig doesn't even warrant an arched eyebrow.

Later on, he has another go, and does a bit better, but it's still pretty lazy by his superlative standards.

It's just not like him to be so non-commital.

The Daemons

 

In many ways, ‘The Daemons’ is the ultimate 1970’s Dr. Who serial, choc-a-bloc with hauntological resonance, a wonderfully entertaining and involving melange of horror and science fiction, Nigel Kneale, Dennis Wheatley and T.C Lethbridge, folk dancing, fertility rites, witchcraft, ancient Gods and devil worship.

Originally broadcast in June, 1971, the story revolves around the village of Devil’s End, where an ancient barrow is about to be opened live on TV. Concerned, The Doctor rushes down there only to find that The Master has got there before him and, using what looks like black magic, has resurrected the inhabitant of the burial mound, Azal, an enormous horned satanic figure who was revered as a God in ancient times but is, in fact, the sole survivor of an alien race, The Daemons. The Daemons used to go from planet to planet seeding life,  occasionally returning to either help it develop or, if they determined that the experiment had failed, to destroy it.  Azal must now pass his awesome power to another (hence the Master’s interest) or, if he can’t find anyone worthy of the honour, pull the plug on the whole planet and everyone on it.

About an episode too long, not all of ‘The Daemons’ make sense, and some of it is plain daft, especially the ending which is along the lines of ‘does not compute – initiate self destruct’ but with a big hairy legged devil alien - but none of this matters, it’s such good fun. UNIT get to shoot supernatural things, there’s action by HAVOC and The Master is absolutely in his element, dressing up in scarlet robes and chanting a backwards version of ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’ in a tea time version of a black mass.

There’s something terribly comforting about this period of the show for people who grew up in the seventies: it seemed a real pleasure and privilege to have The Doctor exiled on Earth, knowing that he was here and saving our beleaguered nation’s pale, dimpled arse week after week after week. I do like all the space stuff, but, for me, it was never quite the same once The Doctor got his freedom. As ‘The Daemons’ more than demonstrates, England can be a pretty weird and fantastic place: who needs an alien filled quarry far, far away when you can battle Lucifer in a pretty village in Wiltshire?

Dr. Who: The Ambassadors Of Death

‘The Ambassadors Of Death’ is an unusual, long, complex and slightly rambling story from Jon Pertwee’s first season of ‘Dr. Who’ (1970). It’s very adult in tone (no, Liz doesn’t flash her knickers, although her skirt is phenomenally short) and contrasts sequences of violent action with a slow but fascinating internecine tale of government conspiracy and xenophobia in its most expansive form, i.e. fear of (literal) aliens.

Originally written for Patrick Troughton’s Doctor, ‘Ambassadors’ is interesting for a number of reasons, not least because it makes some structural changes to the way the story is presented – little, unique touches like the recap taking in place in the middle of the credits, or the title card that reads ‘The Ambassadors’ followed by the zappy twang of a ray gun and the legend ‘OF DEATH’. The feel is different, too, darker and more thoughtful. The aliens are used sparingly and only briefly seen in their full, blue faced glory as the real villains here are humans, either mad, prejudiced men like General Carrington operating out of a warped sense of 'moral duty', or ruthless hired guns like the despicable Reegan (one of the nastiest bastards to ever appear in the programme).

At seven episodes, it is probably at least one episode, maybe two, too long, but I rather like the leisurely approach. The central element of the story clearly references the first ‘Quatermass’ story (the spaceship that goes off the radar then returns to Earth carrying something different to what it set out with), and I like that too. I also like Ronald Allen as space controller Ralph Cornish. You may remember Ronald from his long running role as David Hunter in the infamous soap opera 'Crossroads'. I love watching him in anything because he keeps the straightest possible face under all circumstances, and his permanently pained expression, combined with his deep, sonorous voice is just really funny.  I believe he was rather a fun loving chap in real life, so I like to think he's very much in on the joke. Here's a trailer --

The first two seasons of Pertwee Who are particular favourites of mine. Confined to Earth, the serious tone and reliance on location shooting on wasteground and in semi-derelict factories seems to reflect the grim milieu of early 70’s Britain (although the stories are set a few years in the future), a place permanently under siege and, it seems, under attack, a place where you can trust no-one and, as we discover in ‘Terror Of The Autons’, even an armchair can kill you.

No Expense Spent

Some charming behind the scenes footage from the production of 'Death To The Daleks'. They absolutely infuriate me but, my God, I love the BBC.

A Nice Little Gurner

One of the most enjoyable facets of Jon Pertwee's four year stint as The Doctor was his great facility for pulling faces. 'Death To the Daleks' is no exception, even including a custom built gurning sequence at the end of episode four, as the living city of the Exxilons uses a throbbing noise and some fairy lights to try and trigger insanity in unwelcome visitors. Doesn't work, of course, nothing drives Dr. Who mad - except when Sarah Jane uses his razor on her legs.

Dr. Who: Death To The Daleks

I distinctly remember watching ‘Death To The Daleks’ when it was first broadcast in early 1974. I was nearly six. Then, I thought it was probably the most exciting thing I’d ever seen: it had Daleks, a lot of action and a sequence that put the Doctor in mortal peril if he couldn’t solve a series of mind numbingly difficult puzzles. I loved it, and thought and thought about every detail so I wouldn’t forget it before the Target book came out.

Having recently re-watched it I’m sorry to say that it looks tired and cheap, although it is still surprisingly violent. Elements like the predatory cyber serpent / hoover attachment that terrified me first time around now made me chuckle, and the complex tests of intellect were revealed as souped up playground games. Time can shatter illusions, of course, but not affection: I still love Dr. Who, and I always will, no matter how often the incredible, exciting, fantastic show I was so enthralled by as a kid is revealed as slightly silly and cobbled together. I’m British, damn it, what else would I expect?

Pop Art Pertwee

Dr. Who: The Time Warrior

As regular readers will have surmised. Jon Pertwee era 'Doctor Who' is as good as it gets for me, so it's slightly painful to admit that 'The Time Warrior', the first story in Pertwee's last season as the Doctor, seems tired and sluggish, short of steam and excitement, the beginning of the end of an era.

Set in Medieval times, it introduces the squat, ugly Sontarans in the form of Major Linx, a hugely resourceful, massively arrogant, splendidly aggressive soldier who has the misfortune to get lost en route to a war and be thrown back in time and space to Merry Olde England. Before you can say 'Oi, Toadface' he's giving the natives guns and stealing scientists from the 20th century to help him repair his ship. Of course it would be better to steal scientists from, say, the 22nd or 23rd century, but it apparently doesn't work that way and I suppose if he'd done that then the Doctor wouldn't have been able to step in and sort him out.

It's not rubbish, by any means, it just seems a bit jaded - and even the marvellous, indefatigable Pertwee seems a bit out of shape and out of sorts. On the plus side, it has Dot Cotton being a Medieval Lady and heralds the arrival of Miss Sarah Jane Smith - an important character whose continuing presence would help me get over the loss of one Doctor and slowly get used to the next.