Merry Who-mas

In the old days when we listened to Sony Walkmans and watched proper Saturday morning cartoons, there were no Doctor Who Christmas specials. Our festive time-travelling fare was whatever story happened to be aired during the week of the holidays.

The Mutants, Robots of Death and State of Decay were my yuletide extravaganzas. Each holds fond memories closely associated with the season. The Mutants even has a kind of quasi-religious subtext with the Doctor as a kind of Gabriel delivering a message of good news from the "gods", the evil Marshal (Herod) out to exterminate the Solonians, and Ky as another sort of angel-like figure proclaiming the good news (okay I'll stop now before my analogy snaps). The point remains, that any Doctor Who story can be a fun addition to Christmas!

This year I scheduled my re-watch of The Face of Evil on Christmas morning. It wasn't going to be possible to, er...download this year's special A Christmas Carol later on the day, so this seemed a perfect alternative. Boy was it fun! Yay, Leela. Omigod, it's the Doctor's face carved in a mountain. Yummy, it's Tomas wearing very little!

Sometimes Doctor Who is just plain fun. The story is an old sci-fi trope: backwards society descended from spaceship crash worships God that turns out to be computer, yadda yadda. But we get the added twist that the Doctor is responsible or the whole mess and the computer is MPD (with the Doctor being one of the personalities).

By comparison I was a little disappointed by A Christmas Carol when I finally got to see it. It was a bit more sombre than usual. Don't get me wrong, Steven Moffat's script was an extremely clever and inventive riff on the traditional tale. The dialogue sparkled, the imagery was interesting and there were lots of fun moments. It just wasn't the thrill ride I'm used to getting from a Russell T Davies script. As usual I watched most of the past specials over the season, and without any of the heightened expectation of watching for the first time, I enjoyed them all. The TARDIS car chase in The Runaway Bride is still on-the-edge-of-your-seat viewing and Voyage of the Damned never slows down! I'm not sure Moffat's take on the season will stand up to repeated viewings (I won't even get into the central controversy of the Doctor being able to manipulate the past within the narrative of the story--that begs some serious consideration). Time will tell.

But think about it, Christmas is about recognizable traditions. It's a ritual that re-stages the same story over and over again each year. In the cold, dark of the winter it's reassuring to have a narrative we know well that carries us through to the light. Conversely, each time we watch a new Doctor Who Christmas special we enter into the unknown. We judge it on all the strengths and merits of a regular Doctor Who story. We're too close to it and our judgment is often unduly critical. The Face of Evil has staying power and works brilliantly as the opener for several highly regarded stories. It offers hope and stability for the new year. Yes, I will attempt new things and stretch myself in ways that I never conceived. Unexpected events will test me, possibly set me back and force me to find new, creative ways to meet the future. But for this short period of time, during this "mid-winter feast" I can stop, catch my breath, and revel in the familiar, comforting stories of the past.

Merry Christmas and may the New Year be grand!

Original viewing date: December 18, 1983.

Wine: Sparkling wine + orange juice = Mimosas! Nothing goes better with Christmas morning or Doctor Who viewing.

Music: "Say, Say, Say" by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney.

Game Changer

So on Saturday night we decided to bite the bullet and buy a new 40' Sony Brava HD TV. Now I realize that The Deadly Assassin is just run-of-the-mill-looking television from the 1970s (albeit in cleaned-up DVD shape), and I know in no way does it draw upon the full potential of our new TV. Yet, my viewing experience seemed light years ahead of where it had been the week before. It gave the trip to Gallifrey an extra little lift in the Time Lord loafers.

The Deadly Assassin is a game changer, no matter how you look at it. After this solo outing, no longer is it the Doctor and Sarah--it's the Doctor and companion. Because for the first time in history, a Doctor carries a story pretty much on his own. Sure he gets to play off of Spandrell and Engin, but the Fourth Doctor is front and centre in a new way. Mind you it wouldn't have worked indefinitely. Having the Doctor talk to himself so much is a bit self-conscious.

From the moment we get the scrolling prologue and voice-over, everything feels differently. Like a television series beginning a new season with big changes. Except, the tone still feels recognizable. Hinchcliffe/Holmes is still driving the car, but they've shifted gears up to third. It must have been positively epic for viewers at the time, the Doctor goes home. History tells us that many fans were spitting blood. Gone were the Time Lords of The War Games. In their stead were aliens more at home in Westminster: cynical, conniving and vain. Thank God Robert Holmes decided to bring it all down to Earth. I cannot imagine watching the boring, lifeless Time Lords we eventually got in Arc of Infinity. Apart from the gripping, surreal action in the Matrix, the best parts of the story involve Borusa, Runcible and the daffy double act of Spandrell and Engin. Even the Master is kind of throwaway in the story.

I still laugh out loud at the chalk outline of the fallen President, or Borusa's tampering with the truth. The only thing missing is an old Time Lord stashed away somewhere actually playing the organ in the narrative. That would be brilliant.

Too bad most of the subtleties of the story went over my head at 14. Most of my enjoyment came of the fan-wanky thrill of seeing the Doctor's home planet or the Matrix sequences (they reminded me of the Star Trek episode "Arena"). Now I couldn't care less--it's just a fantastic and inventive story that shifts gears in the same way that say Inferno does. One minute you think you've got the gist of it and then it takes a 180 turn. Rather like the series as a whole. And because I watched the story in re-editing movie version, I was never aware of the freeze-frame cliffhanger controversy until years later. In fact I would argue that the story is one of the few that holds up well in movie-format.

Liqueur: I decided to watch the story on Sunday morning, so Bailey's Irish Cream in my coffee seemed the obvious choice.

Original viewing date: December 11, 1983. (Okay, I've taken a stand and decided that KVOS was quite consistent with showing all their stock of Doctor Who stories in chronological order, thus they must have played Revenge and I just plain missed it!)

Music: "Major Tom (Coming Home)" by Peter Schilling.

The Holy Mother

If Doctor Who was a religion, than Sarah Jane Smith would surely be the Blessed Virgin, if for no other reason than for her incredible staying power.

She burst onto the scene in all her mid-70s-TV-feminist glory, hands on hips, shouting at men with medieval attitudes as companion to Jon Pertwee's Doctor. She morphed into the spunky, endearing best friend of Tom Baker's Doctor. Later after her departure in The Hand of Fear, Elizabeth Sladen was invited back on a couple of occasions (to no avail) to reprise her role as the ever popular journalist (once for the Key to Time season and later to bridge the Baker/Davison transition). An unsuccessful spin-off series, a return for the 20th anniversary, multiple returns in the new series and a second (and successful) spin-off series this time bearing her character's name.

Her place within the Doctor Who mythos is really quite remarkable. Who else holds such a distinctive position? She really does get a great send-off here. It feels completely authentic and just a little work-a-day (in a good way). It plays both ways: you almost feel that Doctor will return to collect her once he's finished with his Gallifrey business, and yet it also has that sense of finality too. Like they both know it, but aren't able to admit it.

Looking back over seasons 12 & 13, I just don't buy Russell T Davies' little bit of retcon, asking us to believe that Sarah had any kind of romantic feelings for the Doctor. But the bond was really strong, and I can certainly see her pain at being left behind. As my friend Graeme points out, there's much more evidence to indicate that there might have been something going on between Sarah and Harry.

The Hand of Fear has a very fresh feel and must have seemed quite contemporary at the time. I love the creepy way Liz Sladen choose to play the possessed Sarah, almost as if Eldrad has misinterpreted the character's spunky/cute attributes (in the same way that animators mistake human attributes in the creep-fest that is The Polar Express).

The simple effects for the hand itself are excellent, resulting in a superb cliffhanger to episode 2 where the silicon appendage suddenly comes to life.

Still love that simple scene where Professor Watson calls home to talk to with wife during the nuclear crisis. Moments like that make me love Doctor Who all the more.

My 13/14-year-old memories: The Hand of Fear will always have a special place in my heart. In a motel room in Kenora, Ontario did I see my first ever episode of Doctor Who. It was probably on TVOntario but it might have been a PBS affiliate, I'll probably never know. My family was driving across Canada from Nova Scotia to BC following our return from a 4 year stint on an air force base in West Germany.

After bugging my mom for some change to get a root beer from the pop machine, I flipped on the TV and started surfing through the channels. Doctor Who caught my attention immediately. I was glued to my seat until the shocking moment that Eldrad was skewered with the poisoned spear. Needless to say I flipped futilely through the channels the next night in Moose Jaw, vainly hoping to find the next part. It would be another year and a half before I agreed with Sarah that "I quite liked her, but couldn't stand him."

Number of times someone proclaims "Eldrad must live!": 22 (almost all of these are in episode 2 spoken primarily by Sarah and Dr. Carter, with the Doctor saying it 3 times in a row as a point of clarification; we also hear "Somebdoy must live" and "Eldrad lives!")

Original viewing date: Episode 3 - August 1982; Full Story - November 27 or December 4, 1983

Spirit: Bombay Sapphire Gin, the choice drink of silicon-based lifeforms everywhere.

Music: "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper. I have a very distinctive memory of first hearing it at our class Christmas party.

Number 6

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you still get picked last for the team. You're sort of the least of the best. Like Aquaman in the Super Friends. You can't blame The Masque of Mandragora for the fact that season 14 is one of the best in Doctor Who's history.

Lovely set design, reasonably interesting characters and fantastic location filming at Portmerion: there is much to love about The Masque of Mandragora.

And the Doctor is fascinating to watch in the story. He seems so in control; he’s a man with a mission, he’s gonna clean up his mess, dodge the local political intrigue, and put out the red firecracker. In some ways it’s a very unusual Doctor Who story with its diffuse, triangulated plot: Count Fredrico wants to do away with his nephew, the rightful heir of San Martino, and he employs the help of the local astrologer Hieronymus, who in turn (with Helix help) has bigger aspirations to be head cheese of the world. Fredrico seems to sense the bearded one and the cult of Demnos are a bit of a threat so he tries to take them out too. Many peasants get slaughtered, and Sarah’s on sacrificial lamb duty.

I must confess that the ending thoroughly confused me. I get the basic idea that the Doctor saves the day by using himself as a human grounding wire, draining the Mandragora Helix. But doesn't the Helix have a central intelligence? So once he drained off the Hieronymus part, didn't the rest of it inhabiting the other acolytes know what was going on?

The cliffhanger at the end of episode three is fantastic, mind you, with Hieronymus removing his mask to reveal blank light and then Fredrico being stuck down in all his arrogance. Maybe that's the problem, the subsequent ending to the story never really surpasses that moment. Ultimately, the whole thing suffers from being too diffuse. Instead of one big show-stopping finale, we got stages of defeat for the Doctor's antagonists. And when the end finally came, I never really doubted for one moment that it was the Doctor behind Hieronymus' mask. I guess I just wanted something more clever. Or perhaps for Giuliano to play a more pivotal part in the big showdown. In a Davison story he would have been the pseudo-companion!

But Doctor Who’s difficulty with endings could be viewed as a by-product of one of its great strengths—it always, always (well almost always) shoots for the moon. Star Trek TNG or other sci-fi series are mere procedurals by comparison, concerned with reasoned, neat stories that make a clear point, with no greasy fingerprints on the door-frame. Doctor Who is messy and inventive like play. With great whimsy, romance and imagination comes great corners to be backed into.

When you're nicking gorgeous costumes from the BBC wardrobe department and mingling with the ghosts of The Prisoner on the grounds of Portmerion who has time for tediously laid tongue twisters of technobabble. Scary, faceless cultists and a bon vivant Doctor tripping executioners with his scarf and jumping onto every horse in sight is what you pays yer money for.

What really would have made the story more interesting, besides a better ending, was if Guillermo had had more of a personality or even just a few more character beats. But I suppose he was a goody in the classical sense (where actors talk about how they’d much rather play a baddy).

Of course season 14 is about to ramp up and I’m quite excited about the weeks to come. Doctor Who is at its height and if Mandragora isn’t quite stellar, it has much to recommend it.

My 14-year-old opinion: Back then the plot never really held my attention. My memories are of creepy Hieronymus and his funky beard, the masks, Sarah picking oranges and the copious use of horses in the story.

Original viewing date: November 20 or November 27, 1983

Wine: What else, a half decent Chianti (served without fava beans) from the Rocca delle Macie.

Music: "Eyes Without a Face," by Billy Idol.

To Every Who There is a Season

My Doctor Who story cravings are often tied to the seasons of the year. As a Canadian, I have an emotional attachment to the changing of the seasons. Each with its own memories and rituals. Not surprisingly, a particular story is most often associated with the time of year I first saw it. Tom Baker stories are Fall and Winter, Peter Davision stories Spring. Hartnell, Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy are tied closely to the Summer. Pertwee floats a bit more around the calendar year, but he's probably best viewed in the Fall (although for some odd reason The Mutants is a Christmas story?!). Troughton, alas, never seems long enough to merit a season.

There can be other considerations too--Doctor Who stories like Black Orchid, Silver Nemesis will always feel Summer-y by virtue of what's going on in the story. Ditto on The Daemons, although it fits well at both Halloween and May Day. Despite its chilly backdrop, Dragonfire is a light, breezy Summer tale.

The Seeds of Doom is a Fall story in every respect: the crackling fire in Chase's library, the laconic shadows everywhere and the golden, decaying leaves. It's just so bloody sensual in this respect. All the running around on the Athelhampton House grounds provide a great distraction for the healthy does of capture and escape (which is never excessive, considering this is a 6 parter).

No other story during this re-watch has given me a greater feeling of nostalgia, happy memories, and a sense general well-being. Whether it's the body horror (at its pinnacle here--poor Keeler), the radical change in locations from Antarctica to the Home Counties (and anyone who knows me, knows how much I like films or TV shows with snow--even fake snow), or how much the story makes me laugh-out-loud.

The Seeds of Doom is just so damned funny. In the best Doctor Who way, the humour is completely integrated into the action and the horror. The characters are all stock, but they're so brilliantly played with such wonderful lines. Harrison Chase (the effete megalomaniac), Emelia Dukut (the canny eccentric), Sir Colin (the brilliant straight man), Hargreaves (the loyal and long suffering butler) and of course the gloriously cynical, can't-help-but-love-him Scorby.

There's a wonderful scene where Chase rails about why he is surrounded by idiots, Scorby suddenly appears and Hargreaves gives him a dry, withering look. Love it, love it. And Hargreaves is always a perfect balance of dignified toady and horrified bystander. He's clearly appalled by what has happened to Keeler, but in Hargreaves proper world, Mr. Chase knows best.

Of course the story isn't perfect. Once Chase goes completely nutty under the influence of the Krynoid, he's somehow less interesting, and solving the whole thing with a couple of well placed RAF bombs is hardly satisfying.

Wow, I can't believe the curtain has fallen on season 13 so fast. It's a very consistent season in terms of tone, and style. Whereas both seasons 12 and 14 have strong currents of transition, (whether in front or behind the camera), here things hold relatively steady. Over the past several weeks Tom and Liz have built up their famous rapport almost effortlessly, and that's definitely going to up the resonance of The Hand of Fear in a few weeks. Curiously, I've had almost no changes in my feelings or attitudes to season 13 stories (yeah sure, Androids has slipped further, but that was almost expected). But the funny thing about Doctor Who is that, come the right circumstances, any story can suddenly find the right season--let the pub arguments commence!

Original viewing date: November 13 or November 20, 1983

Wine: In honour of Harrison Chase I picked up a Pinot Noir called "megalomaniac." Why it made for a great gimmick, unfortunately it wasn't a very good wine. It was too light and tasted vaguely of cotton candy!? Graeme texted me that the perfect wine for The Seeds of Doom would be called Green Cathedral. If I'm ever making small talk with a vintner, I shall wholeheartedly suggest the moniker.

Music: "True" by Spandau Ballet. It just defined the times. No link--thank EMI.

Doctor Solon or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Body Parts

I was having a lot of nightmares at the end of November 1983, but they weren't provoked by The Brain of Morbius. That honour belongs to the ABC telefilm The Day After, a harrowing portrayal of the events leading up to, during, and after a nuclear war. While it may seem like a dated curiosity now, at the time it haunted my waking and sleeping worlds. Suddenly, I began suffering dreams where I was desperately looking for a place to hide, or trying to find my family. Curiously, I never quite got to the apocalyptic part after the blast--it was always the confusion and horror of the moments leading up to it. I guess that's true of all horror--it's the fear and tension of what's to come, not the actual "boo"!

I remember some critics charging that by the end of the story, the characters were already "picking up their bookstraps" and starting to rebuild with true Yankee gumption. A comparable, but much more graphic British TV film about nuclear devastation, Threads, would further traumatize me not long after.

Deciding how much to push the horror envelope has been an eternal battle for producers of Doctor Who (with Mary Whitehouse looming in the shadows). After all, Doctor Who was and is a programme for children, primarily. The Brain of Morbius has many creepy and disturbing ideas (much like Frankenstein which it riffs), and rates high on the gothic horror metre thanks to Robert Holmes rewriting of Terrance Dicks original script. It's hard to imagine the story with a robot creating Morbius' body rather than the inimitable Solon. But again, at 14, the campier aspects of the production helped to counterbalance the horror elements.

The format of Doctor is a wonderful container for horror, because we know that the Doctor will win in the end. No matter how bad things get, he'll save the day(things are a little more complex in the new series, but there is always hope). There is no chance of a happy ending after a nuclear war.

Many of the ideas stuck with me though. The idea that Solon wanted the Doctor's head (literally) disturbed me, and when Sarah was blinded and had to make her way around the horrific landscape of Sarn, I felt a few chills. And don't get me started on the Sisterhood (again kudos to the make-up artist for giving Maren such a hard and intense look).

The look of the story is fantastic. I can't remember a colour Doctor Who story employing such a skilled use of shadows. They really give the story an added element of texture, depth and menace. And the effect of the Doctor being transported from Solon's lab by the telekinetic Sisterhood is chilling.

While it's fun to play "what if" and imagine Peter Cushing in the role, Philip Madoc owns his portrayal of Solon. It's like he's reading the dialogue directly from Holmes' macabre and stylish mind. His fixation on the Doctor's head always has the perfect distracted quality.

Tom and Elizabeth are also in top form. From his revealing and petulant stew at the start of the story right through to that subtle and hilarious moment when Sarah tells the Doctor he's "too late" and he grabs his head to see if it's still there! Sarah has lots of little moments like when she pours her spiked beverage out or doesn't scream when she first encounters the "Chop Suey" body.

These days the bomb has dropped far below my angst awareness, and I'm more likely to wake from a nightmare after watching AMC's The Walking Dead. It's ultra-real depiction of a zombie apocalypse has taken that genre to truly frightening places, not the least is its realization of redneck racists, withdrawn wife beaters and incontinent vulnerable seniors. I guess that's where my psyche is at--thank God for the gentle world of hissing covens and splattered brains.

Original viewing date: November 6 or 13, 1983

Wine: A Jean Bousquet Argentinian Malbec (made with organic grapes apparently). As the nights get colder, a good throaty Malbec always hits the spot--unfortunately this one has a metallic note that marred the experience.

Music: "Mad World," by Tears for Fears. After watching the story I went out to a retro 80s dance party at Dovercourt House (they hold it once every month). It was like a shower of nostalgia.

Diminishing Returns

Nostalgia can often raise up a mediocre or bad Doctor Who story to a higher place in my esteem. The Android Invasion is certainly no gem, but when I first watched it at 14 it had a number of elements to recommend it. A creepy first episode with a twitchy UNIT soldier falling over a cliff, a desolate little hamlet with a handful of mysteries and a pub with a single date on the calendar. We also got the return of Harry Sullivan and Sgt. Benton (yes, like the calendar, he will always remain Sergeant to me).

And of course it reminded me of the classic "fembot" episodes of The Bionic Woman. As a kid I was a massive fan of Jaime Sommers and her cybernetic counterpart Steve Austin. The fembot episodes were my favourites. The bug-eyed dopplegangers seemed invincible and the sight of them removing their faces freaked the ever living poop out of me. So when Sarah got tossed down to the ground like a rag doll and her face went the other direction, I couldn't help to be hooked.

Sadly, re-watching The Android Invasion over the years has been a case of diminishing returns. I guess the plot never really made sense, but this time around I just found myself a bit distracted and bored. The whole thing is a big throwback to classic UNIT stories, and yet it has none of the oomph of those stories. Guy Crawford is introduced rather matter-a-fact-ly and never really makes much of an impression (Milton Johns does a much better toady later on in The Invasion of Time). Once the mystery is gone, the jig is up.

Ultimately, it's a collection of Terry Nation bits with none of the polish on--it's just sort of thrown together. The Kraals are pretty generic (their motivations seem cribbed from the Zygons) and while their "rhino" design is an interesting idea, in 30 years Russell T Davies and his production team would ultimately best it. Every cool moment, like the Doctor jumping face first out a window is matched with a rubbish bit like Sarah tripping and hurting her ankle. I guess we can give Barry Letts credit for the former and Nation the latter.

Again, I quite liked the setting: it brought to mind the village from the new series story Amy's Choice. It was a nice touch that Sarah had prior knowledge of the village, but unlike say Tegan's connection to her grandfather in The Awakening, there's no real emotional connection to heighten the tension. There's a bit more of that later when Sgt. Benton and Harry show up, but then it's rather wasted when we get almost no interesting stuff with them later in the real world.

It would also have been nice to have one final goodbye to Harry, particularly since he never returned in any future stories. I guess it's indicative of the "phoned-in" quality of the story.

Random observations:

• Sarah is wearing clogs that look remarkably like crocs (no wonder she tripped)


• Colonel Faraday feels like a parody of the worst excesses of latter Petwee era Lethbridge Stewart. It's probably fortunate that Nicholas Courtney was spared being in the story


• Curiously, we have a scene where Benton is chastising his kid sister on the phone. It's a nice bit of business and seems surprising in the story. Makes me yearn for a proper UNIT story.

Original viewing date: October 29, 1983 or November 6, 1983

Spirit: Gin and tonic. Specifically Bombay Sapphire. It had to be a quintessential English pub drink and I wasn't up for lager or ale.

Music: "If This Is It" by Huey Lewis and the News.

Essential Viewing

Atop my desk at home, amongst a collection of wooden giraffes, teddy bears, my Mego "Bones" and other precious objects, stands a stoic mummy with a little Egyptian jar at its foot. Had I known of Doctor Who when I was 10 and had there been a dearth of related action figures (as there had been for Star Wars), I surely would have worn out this plastic automaton in the backyard sandbox or in a country house setting I would have constructed from boxes and stolen Barbie furniture.

Pyramids of Mars is the very definition of fun! And Doctor Who should always at its root be fun. More than anything, that's the reason why it's proved so resilient for me. I remember the fun of first watching it. On a bad day it can lift my spirits.

Back in the 80s, KVOS used to show clips from the story as part of its one and only advertisement for Doctor Who. It makes perfect sense: the Doctor states he's from Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous, while Sutekh identifys the Doctor as a Time Lord. And the clips looks cool and have the advantage of Gabriel Woolf's menacing and silky voice.

Pyramids of Mars feels like the very epicentre of Hinchcliffe/Holmes Doctor Who. It has a memorable villain in Sutekh, lots of great location filming, a large country home, some chilling deaths, fantastic acting, great chemistry between the leads, nods to the past (Victoria, companion to the 2nd Doctor is referenced as is the city of Exxilons from Death to the Daleks) and gosh darn-it--pyramids on Mars!

In retrospect it's just so darned iconic as well, which is why the "Oh Mummy" featurette on the DVD release works so well (the dialogue and images are so striking--"I bring you Sutekh's gift of death" or "plaything of Sutekh". And I can completely understand why Russell T Davies chose to reference it specifically in an episode in Queer as Folk. And hiring Gabriel Woolf to do the voice of The Beast in The Impossible Planet/ The Satan Pit two-parter during the 2006 series was a brilliant move.

Right off the bat we have a brooding Doctor who complains about being at the Brigadier's beck and call (and discloses his approximate age to Sarah). Holmes and Hinchcliffe must have felt a certain confidence in having the Doctor utter these sentiments on screen--we're pretty much done with all that folks (even though UNIT would have a presence in two more stories before disappearing).

Later Holmes shows us the consequences of the Doctor high tailing it away in the TARDIS without dealing with the baddie. It's a striking an important scene and I'm surprised we haven't had such an illustration in Doctor Who before (RTD would elaborate on the idea in the new series with his concept of "fixed points in time and space".

Every time I watch the story I can't help feeling the poignancy of Lawrence Scarman's death at the hands of his brother (or at least what he believes to be his brother). He's seen the wonders of the TARDIS, and the horrors of Sutekh, but in the end the power of his relationship with his brother remains the only truly real thing to him.

It's an old fan discussion to posit which Doctor Who story would be a good starter for a new viewer. I nominate Pyramids wholeheartedly for all the reasons I mention above. And what fodder it would have provided for my world-building 10-year-old self.

Original viewing date: October 22nd or October 29th, 1983

Wine: "Trapiche Reserve" my favourite Malbec from Argentina. It's deep, fully bodied and has a little of everything (vanilla, blackberry, oak-y, etc.), rather like the story.

Music: "That's All" by Genesis. One of those forgettable songs from latter day Genesis, but there's no accounting for taste at 14...

Jungle Fever

Planet of Evil did not sit well with me during my adolescence. I saw it as an exceeding grim and depressing story. Fun factor zero. And boy did my life need some fun...

Grade 9 was becoming increasingly unpleasant by the time October rolled around. I was being bullied by a group a rather nasty classmates, my school work had taken a nosedive (Scott needs to apply himself more to his studies, blah, blah...) and I didn't really have any close friends to confide in or suffer with. One particular incident involved my pants being stolen from a locker during gym class. My homeroom teacher, bless her misguided heart, gave a speech later that day in front of the whole class lecturing whoever had done it, but of course I was horrified at been singled out.

So Doctor Who (and reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy) was my great solace at the time. Planet of Evil felt less like escapism and more like a mirror of my tortured life. At 14, I really had a sense of dread when anyone (particularly Sarah or the Doctor) had to go into that creepy jungle (read school). It seemed vast and foreboding. The pit (gym class) freaked the crap out of me! But what really gave me nightmares was the image of the ship (school bus) being pulled back to the planet--it was unrelenting. Oh, and Commander Salamar was such a dick. He was so bloody annoying with his pouty lips.

Planet of Evil is a very underrated story. Sure it's basically a mash up of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with a healthy helping of Forbidden Planet, but design-wise, it's all about that incredible alien jungle. Shot on film at Ealing studios, it's very easy to suspend one's imagination when watching it. There are puddles for god sake! It's one of the most iconic images of the Hinchcliffe/Holmes era (with that famous still of the leads peering out at the camera).

Ewan Solon simply rocks as Vishinsky. Everyone, including the viewer, can't help but look to him in any scene he's in. He's just such a intelligent, decent guy. One imagines that in Morestran society, just as in ours, idiots are promoted up the hierarchy because nobody knows what else to do with them. Vishinsky must have pissed someone off royally to serve under such a useless tool as Salamar. Look at how he takes the time to stop Sarah and the Doctor from being ejected out into space, when everyone else takes off to the next emergency. I found myself cheering at the television when he finally took command away from the walking-train-wreck Salamar.

Frederick Jaeger is quite good too (although he has a few tics, like rubbing his face ad nauseum, that kind of wore on me). He's very good at looking distracted though, and as I mentioned in a previous blog entry, he is the culmination of the dirty/sweaty spaceman. Prentis Hancock is...annoying, as per the character, but another actor could have made him good annoying.

The ocular camera is a great little plot device and adds a nice cool factor. Sure it's a bit wobbly, but on film it comes across quite well.

The halcyon days of the Fourth Doctor/Sarah Jane double act are in full swing here and there's a real sense of team here: Sarah retrieving the equipment from the TARDIS, and the sweet moment later where she tells the Doctor to take care.

Other miscellaneous observations:

• For all those who champion the Doctor's lack of violent tendencies, he can still get in a pretty decent right hook (although he can be forgiven considering how much of a prick Salamar is).

• There are great throwaway bits in the story like Vishinsky asking what Morelli's religious practices are (Morestran Orthodox) and then scoffing that he was "one of them" as if he was Jehovah's Witness or Church of Scientology.
  

• I love the last scene of the TARDIS spinning away to the next adventure--it's so wonderfully whimsical.

• For best results, store your anti-matter crystals in a Farrah's Original Harrogate Toffee container.

• Barry Letts gets all the press for the environmental messages front and centre in his stories, but here the message is much more subtly presented.

Original viewing date: October 15th or October 22nd

Wine: "Chateau de Gourgazaud" a really tasty red from the Minervois region of France. There's no real connection to the story per se, but it was a nice little discovery and I'll definitely buy it again.

Music: "Sweet Dreams Are Made of This" by the Eurythmics. This song was everywhere!

My Scottish Love Affair

From the time I was diapered and powdered, I've had a love and fascination for all things Scottish. Perhaps it arises from my name or maybe it's because I was born and reared in Nova Scotia. It might be my love of castles or my high school best friend's mother who had the most enchanting brogue I'd ever heard. Like the rest of the world I'm not immune to the heightened romance of the region or the downright stereotypes.

Doctor Who has a long history of Scottish flirtations, in front and behind the camera: Jamie and the Highlanders, Innes Lloyd, Sylvester McCoy, David Tennant, Amy Pond, Steven Moffat and Tooth and the Claw. I could go on and on.

And of course there was Terror of Zygons. A story stuffed to the gills with every sort of Scottish cliche from Haggis to Ben Nevis, and the Loch Ness Monster to a games-keeper nicknamed "The Caber". A story with mostly English actors playing Scots and shot in West Sussex!

But as a 15 year old I still loved it to bits. It was eerie, and action-packed, with an almost effective UNIT (they look cooler than they did in Robot, even if they don't actually do a lot). It didn't really matter that it wasn't actually Scotland--West Sussex was exotic enough.

Call me a sensualist, but I can't get enough of John Woodnutt's silky voice. He simply purrs each and every line. Okay, his utterances as Broton the Zygon are somewhat distracted by the hiss-y "treatment" they received.

All the creepy little touches still do it for me too, like the uber eerie nurse/Zygon and games-keeper/Zygon. And the Harry/Zygon doppelganger charging Sarah with a pitchfork is among the most chilling in the series' history.

Of course the story is still saddled with a threadbare plot (alien menace looking for new home planet develops vague, overly-elaborate plan to subjugate Earth), and the ending is just plane lacklustre--Broton meets the mortal coil by being shot like a dog by the Brigadier, while the Loch Ness Monster (Skarasen) eats its leash and toddles off home.

I eventually made it to Scotland in 2003 (25 years after watching the story) and I must say my love only grew. It really is a fascinating blend of mythological stereotype and modern UK reality. I was treated to odd variations on the Police Box design (double banked and red!), region 2 Doctor Who DVDs at the Virgin superstores, kilts and castles, Scotch Whisky and the Big Issue. And alas a BBC devoid of my favorite Time Lord (at the time).

Alas, it's time to say goodbye to Harry. Yes, I know he'll show up again in for a final swansong, but this is the end of a really nice continuous journey of the Doctor, Sarah & Harry. Perhaps it feels a bit more bittersweet, having just watched The Death of the Doctor episodes of The Sarah Jane Adventures. It was nice to get a call-out for him at the end of those episodes--there was real affection in Liz Sladen's voice. Farewell, old friend, it's been nice spending time with you again. Such is the magic of "time travel".


First viewed: October 8 or 15, 1983. Probably the latter.

Spirit: Glenfiddich Single Malt Scotch whisky. Yes, I know, If I'd wanted to be completely authentic to the story, I would have gone for a blended whisky distilled in England, but then I'd have to drink it...

Music: "In a Big Country" by Big Country.

What's Up, Cyberleader?

Waiting for the November 2 DVD release of Revenge of the Cybermen has proven too much for me. Yes, I caved and watched a somewhat sketchy download of the region two version released earlier in Britain.

It wasn't until I was forced to wait that I realized how much I looked forward to this re-watch each week. It's become a ritual. No, more than a ritual, I'm engaged in the ongoing story. Somehow, after watching Genesis of the Daleks, in some part of my imagination, Sarah, Harry and the Doctor remained floating around in a sort of limbo in the time vortex, waiting impatiently to arrive back on the Nerva Beacon.

Back when I was attending church, I would often be perplexed by the way some cradle Christians (Anglicans in this case) would refer to the Christian story. Even though they'd participated in a particular part of the liturgy dozens or hundreds of times, the way they spoke of reliving those moments always had a sense of experiencing them for the first time (Holy Week and Easter are particularly good examples).

I think good narrative works that way, whether it's high liturgy or 35 year old television fantasy drama. It enables us to "return to the beginning" and relive the experience again. Sure our knowledge of what is to come can't be erased, yet we're still able to hold both realities. It's a very human thing to do. A good friend once referred to it as living in the "now and the not yet". I would include in that description the "already happened" as well.

And so I was faced with a dilemma: do I wait for the brand spanking new DVD release of Revenge of the Cyberman, or do I watch the "film-like" download that my friends Dawn and Justin procured for me during a recent trip to Victoria. The story has a less than stellar reputation, so watching it in pristine condition was definitely a plus. Then again, the prospect of two more weeks of no re-watch felt unbearable.

So sue me, my Doctor Who flesh is weak.

Funny thing about Revenge though: I have almost no memory of this story! I can't figure out why I didn't see it back in the fall of 1983. Did we go somewhere as a family? Did KVOS skip it? Did I pay Lacuna, Inc. to have it erased from my memory? I can't even tell you when I finally did see it. It was probably somebody's sliced and diced VHS movie edit. Or a washed out off-air version via my friend Graeme.

My appraisal of it now would be that there are a few hits, but mostly misses. Tom Baker is fantastic. He has been a marvel throughout season 12, but even in a "meh" story like this he manages to score. The scene with the Doctor hiding under bed and then jumping around the room to avoid the electrified floor was entertaining and fun in the same way much of Matt Smith's antics are. And I love the Doctor using his yo-yo as he's being transmatted. Conversely, the Doctor's confrontation with the Cyber-Leader is full of force and conviction (no bored Baker of latter years here). Even absurd dialogue involving "glitter guns" destroying Cybermen is given gravitas (honesty I picture a legion of Bowies advancing). I love this exchange:

Lester: Why don’t we just wait here?
The Doctor: I think my idea is better.
Lester: What is your idea.
The Doctor: I don’t know yet. That’s the trouble with ideas – they only come a bit at a time.

Of course on the "miss" side of the ledger we have the titular Cybermen who are in no way menacing (despite there persistent attempts to administer Swedish massage to various characters) and their voices are completely daft and feel like they've been dubbed over real cyber voices. My friend Graeme recently lamented the fact that 2entertain didn't splurge to re-dub proper Cyber voices. And perhaps it was the martini speaking, but I found myself fantasizing what it would be like to re-dub them with completely different dialogue a la Woody Allen's What's Up, Tiger Lily. Perhaps, judging from their flared utility pants, the real Cyber plan was to simply find the local Disco.

Ultimately it's a scatter-shot story made a little more interesting by Briant's direction. The scenes on the beacon at the beginning have an eerie, unsettling quality, particularly all those bodies laying everywhere, and their is a nice cast of character actors manning it. Sarah's infection is also suitably chilling, even if the actual Cybermat isn't (again the Doctor's sense of desperation contains some fine acting from Mr. Baker). Other great bits include Harry and Sarah on the run and their banter over Sarah's ankles; the emptying of the Doctor's pockets to see just who he is. And using real caves is makes running around seem far more interesting than it ought to. Of course I can't watch those cave scenes without immediately thinking of Mark Gatiss' hilarious turn as a shell-shocked tour guide (who previously lost a child in the caves) in the first season of "The League of Gentlemen".

Despite David Colling's wonderful voice, the Vogans aren't very impressive and come off like second rate rejects from the Lord of the Rings. Honestly, if they've got all that gold, why is it exactly that they can't hold off the Cybermen? And Carey Blyton's incidental music drove me crazy for much of the story. I'm all for giving the horn section some work, but it just didn't fit here. I understand Peter Howell was asked to add synthesizer to Blyton's original score.

I'll end by saying that my Harry love has only gotten stronger. Like my mother, he has a tendency to state the obvious, but I love both, unconditionally, regardless.

Original Viewing Date: Beat's me...

Spirit: I decided to open up the playing field this week with a dry vodka martini complete with edible "silver" ball bearings garnished with a slice of Golden Delicious apple. Thank you Graeme for an excellent suggestion.

Music: I have no musical association for this episode, but having watched Goldfinger last week, I can't get Shirley Bassey's rendition out of my head...so that'll do.

Thunderstorm of the Daleks

There are certain TV moments from my childhood and adolescence that have been raised to a mythical level. The "Meet Dracula" episode of The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries is one of them. As is the "Dragon's Domain" episode of Space: 1999. And then of course there were a boatload of Sid and Marty Kroft inspired memories.

Doctor Who came later for me, but was no less potent. Genesis of the Daleks was made more memorable because I had an unintended and prolonged break between episodes two and three. As was my habit, I set the old Betamax on Sunday night at 11:30PM. The next day I excitedly re-wound the tape and immersed myself in the epic story. Then as I was on the edge of my seat watching Sarah and the Mutos climb the scaffolding to the top of the Thal dome the TV went to snow! Suddenly I recalled the terrific thunderstorm the night before. I was crestfallen.

It wouldn't be for 7 or 8 months until the episode was thankfully rerun and I got to see the rest of the story. But my anticipation only made it all the more exciting and rewarding.

Genesis of the Daleks has some amazing moments, including a very memorable opening with a bunch of gas-masked soldiers being mowed down in the fog, then another group disappearing into said fog, and the fourth Doctor emerging a second later. It was mysterious, surreal, with perfect direction and editing. The arrival of the Timelord and his mission to the Doctor is positively Bergman-esque. It's probably the most effective use of the Doctor's brethren barring only The War Games.

David Mahoney's direction and Robert Holmes script editing have turned Terry Nation's paint-by-numbers template into something truly special. But hey this was my first Dalek story outside of the second Peter Cushing movie, so even Nation's familiar beats were new to me. At 14 what struck me most was the terrifying way the Doctor, Sarah and Harry just kept getting more and more enmeshed in the horror. Every time the Time Ring was lost or confiscated I felt a sense of panic. My own life in grade 9 was getting progressively more miserable and the idea of escape was a potent one. As was the twin idea of changing the past and averting bad things in the future.

What's haunts me now as I watched it this time is the tragedy of the Kaleds as personified by Gharman and his portrayal by Dennis Chinnery. His naive devotion to the democracy is so strong (even after the Thals have decimated his people and the Daleks have decimated the Thals), and there is that moment when he tells the Doctor that everything will be okay that just breaks my heart. Watching as he and the other scientists are mowed down is excruciating.

David Mahoney manages to keep everything looking so fresh and interesting, even as characters seem to journey back and forth from the respective domes. The image of the Dalek against the violet sky is quite striking (almost in the style a Nazi propaganda poster). Mahoney deserves real credit since the Daleks-as-Nazis metaphor has been milked to death by this point in the show's history. Oh and the revulsion on Nyder's face at the thought of a democratically elected leader is priceless.

And Harry Sullivan continues to be wonderful. Sure the character is woefully underwritten and unnecessary, but Ian Marter portrayal is so darned likeable and fun to have around (even when he's being ambushed by a clam). It's also nice to see him perform solo companion duties with the Doctor for a chunk of the story. I'm already suffering separation anxiety from his impending departure.

Of course the things that bug me about Genesis still bug me. Like the rather indifferent parting of Sarah's Muto friend: she shows a moment of affection and he all be brushes her off as he departs to join the Thal brigade. I never got that! And the Thals seem to have no real identity as a people. They're just perfunctory (so much so that a spunky young woman can just ascend to their leadership without a second thought).

As grade 9 dipped lower into despair, Doctor Who only got better and better (thunderstorms not withstanding).

Originally viewed: October 1, 1983 (Episodes 1 & 2); Sometime in 1984 (Episodes 3-6)

Wine: A red Zinfandel from the DeLoach vinyards in California. Spicy and peppery, with a smooth and velvety character. An excellent companion to beef, sausages and Nazi allegory! (Thanks to Dennis for pointing me towards the choice).

Music: "Love is a Battlefield" by Pat Benatar.

*Note: The blog will resume in one month to coincide with the release of Revenge of the Cybermen on DVD.

Contrary to Popular Opinion, Not All Sontarans Look Alike

The Sontaran Experiment greatly benefits from sequential viewing. Over the years I've rarely had a desire to go out of my way to watch it, yet somehow, I was really looking forward to viewing it as part of this on-going narrative. Does that make sense? I mean, so far I've been watching one story per week. Either, Saturday or Sunday night, depending on my schedule. It makes Tom Baker Who special in the same way as watching current seasons of the show (minus the surprise factor). I guess The Sontaran Experiment is sort of like The Lazarus Experiment that way.

When I was 14 I enjoyed the story, but it left me wanting...er, for two more episodes. Because when you get one "movie-edit" story a week, you can't help feeling a bit cheated. Realistically, it wouldn't have stretched successfully to a four-parter, but story mechanics weren't foremost on my mind at that age--I just wanted as much Doctor Who as possible each week!

There isn't much story, and what there is of it doesn't make a lot of logical sense. But it's so completely different from last week's studio bound offering that I just can't help getting a jolt. It's so damned novel, a uniqueness that is lost when you just pop it into the DVD player at random. From the beginning, there's a strong sense of mystery. And as low tech as the robot is, it has a kind of creepy spider effect (okay, I'm probably alone in this view, but it wouldn't be the first time). Filming in Dartmoor really helps the sensation that the regulars are in the middle of a vast nowhere (and makes a nice change from a gravel pit).

Nobody does dirty spacemen like the Holmes/Hinchcliffe production team (reaching a zenith next season with Professor Sorenson in Planet of Evil). Barbara Kidd (costume designer) and Sylvia James (make-up artist) can be credited with giving the spaceman here a really gritty, filthy look . You can practically see the stink lines coming off them! Hey, if you have to have anonymous characters like these, might as well make them look authentic.

And my love affair with the fourth Doctor and Tom Baker continues. He's got so many wonderful lines like: "You never know when these bits and pieces will come in handy. Never throw anything away, Harry." [He throws it away] "Now, where's my five hundred year diary. I remember jotting some notes on the Sontarans... It's a mistake to clutter one's pockets, Harry."

Originally viewed: September 23, 1983

Wine: An extremely light and fruity "Beaujolais Superieur" that was incredibly smooth and made me feel young and happy, like I was having a picnic in L'avignon (or perhaps Dartmoor). It's grape kool-aid with a kick! And it compliments this light little two-parter perfectly.

Music: Okay, this is an odd one, but for some reason the story evokes "Mull of Kintyre" by Paul McCartney and Wings.

Skin Eruptions

I was not a big fan of The Ark in Space when I was 14. It just seemed...boring to me, particularly episode one. I liked listening to the banter between the Doctor, Sarah and Harry, but that was about it. Clearly the strength of Robert Holmes script was lost on me.

What did stand out was the horrific transformation that Noah went through, turning from taciturn head cheese to bubble-wrapped beastie. Body horror was something that always fascinated me as an adolescent. Whether it was drawing pictures and then subjecting them to aging, warts and animal features or my weekly insistence on breaking out the 8-milimetre projector to watch the abridged (and silent) Abbot and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, watching the human body being mutilated or changed tapped into something deep in my psyche. At 14 I also suffered from chronic and embarrassing acne.

When I think of those early Tom Baker viewings, I always lumped The Ark in Space, Planet of Evil and The Seeds of Doom. Each had striking body horror imagery.

Of course as an adult The Ark in Space is a fantastic story and probably the best of season 12 (although Genesis will always be my emotional favourite). The script is brilliant and while the production is quite chilling in its own right, imagine if they hadn't been restricted by budget or censors. I think in particular of the scene of the Wirrin falling out of the cupboard onto poor Harry.

Also, in a post-Russell-T-Davies Doctor Who world, it's curious to note the characterization of the far-future humans. Vira and Noah are played very much in a classic sci-fi way, quite humourless with no understanding of 20th century vernacular. Curiously, Holmes decides to introduce Rogin in episode 3 as a much more familiar type, employing a bit more contemporary attitude/speak. Rogin is much more in tune with an RTD representation of future humans--someone the average viewer can identify with.

Other things I enjoyed: the use of shadows in episode 1; the almost biblical feel of the minister's pre-recorded speech to humanity, almost as if she is talking to Abraham; and the great scene with the Doctor berating Sarah to make her climb through the access tunnel--it's such a portent of their developing relationship.

And then there is the intriguing question: will Vira now have to switch to a swinging lesbian lifestyle now that Noah and 4 other of the males (in the carefully balanced Ark ecosystem) are dead?

Original viewing date: September 16, 1983 (I should note at this point in case it isn't obvious, I watching "movie versions" of the stories (thus my recollections will never include cliffhangers, sadly. I have also decided not to watch updated versions of stories with new special effects).

Wine: "Girls Night Out", a serviceable chardonnay from the Niagara region. I don't generally drink whites, but I needed it for a carrot soup.

Music listened to: "Karma Kameleon", by Culture Club. The song was unavoidable at the time.

The Grand Tour

My best friend Graeme recently wrote an excellent blog entry on the DWIN site where he talked about the fan tradition of doing "The Pilgrimage," in this particular case, watching Doctor Who from the beginning. His own viewing comprised the entirety of the Tom Baker era. He admitted to a certain amount of laziness, only tackling that era. If he's lazy, I'm certainly being unimaginative by following the same route (I just don't own enough first, second or third Doctor stories to make starting at those point feasible).

But it also makes a lot of sense, since Robot did mark the formal beginning of continuous Doctor Who viewing for me. It was 1983, and everyone was crazy for Duran Duran, rugby pants and Return of the Jedi. I was starting grade nine (which would prove to be the most difficult year of my adolescence). A quick perusal of the TV guide revealed such eagerly awaited treasures as a rerun of The Incredible Hulk, the return of Knight Rider and a quirky little British show called Doctor Who. I'd always been intrigued with what little I'd seen of it in the past (the second Peter Cushing movie, episode 2 of The Hand of Fear, and the entirety of Colony in Space and The Three Doctors).

The following is an excerpt from an Enlightenment article I wrote about 10 years ago: "I'm still haunted by the memory of setting the Betamax machine to tape Robot back in 1983. It was 11:30 PM on a Sunday and I wasn't allowed to stay up [the channel was actually KVOS 12 a great quirky little independent station out of Bellingham, Washington--they used to show fantastic marathons of old 60s and 70s TV shows every year during the labour day weekend]. Excitedly I popped in the tape, hit the button and scurried off to my bunk bed.

"The next day I raced home from school, anticipating my prize. Dad greeted me on the front steps, his hands covered in transmission grease.

"'What the hell was that you taped last night,' he cracked, brushing his greasy forefinger against his chin."

But I didn't care, I loved Robot. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. The quirky colourful characters, the almost stage-like presentation, and Tom Baker's outrageous Doctor.

Twenty-seven years have passed since the first time I watched it. I'm now allowed to stay up, but of course DVD affords me the opportunity to start the story whenever I want. So I sat down with an Argentinian Malbec [Misterio] and let my imagination travel down that spooky diamond tunnel once again.

And so begins my own pilgrimage, which I'm calling my "Grand Tour"

Tom Baker still enthralls me like he did when I was 13. Nothing he does in the episode feels unwarranted or over the top even though viewers probably thought so at the time (I remember annoying my sister by endlessly exclaiming, "Exactly, Brigadier, exactly" over and over again). I guess it's because he seems so authentic. He is the Doctor, he's not just playing him [I feel the same way when I watch Matt Smith, the latest incarnation]. I still enjoy Patricia Maynard as Miss Winters--you just know she probably ties up Jellicoe up in a closet and whacks his bottom like Cloris Leachman did to Harvey Korman in High Anxiety. And the design of the robot is still rather cool--from the shoulders up anyway. Sarah Jane is at the funny stage of the character's development where she's halfway between her sensible mannish attire and scripted feminism to her cute and more iconically remembered persona.

Thank God I no longer have to get on a full school bus with only seats at the back with the bullies!

My original viewing date: September 9th, 1983

Music: "Talking in Your Sleep" by the Romantics. Classmates told me endlessly that I looked like the lead singer, and being an insecure 14 year I protested and wished it wasn't so.