Dance Inferno

"So, free will is not an illusion after all."

                                                                      -- The Third Doctor

Proper PPE is essential

Re-watching Inferno in 2021, I can't help wondering which Earth we're on. Perhaps I had a somewhat smug sense of relief viewing the story in the past. Our universe was fine. Good old Earth prime, where everything always worked out. Not that dumpster-fire of a parallel Earth with its orange filtered skies (sound familiar) and leather jack boots. I'd have a slightly nauseous feeling as that gooey lava rushed forward to consume alt-Greg Sutton and the rest of the doppel-gang. Poor buggers. 

These days, I'm not so sure which universe we live in. As climate change and COVID-19 and right-wing, populous governments remap our realities, I tend to feel a little more anxious about the Stahlmans of the world winning out.

Inferno is an extremely beloved story, from the oft told eye-patch stories to the inspiration of adding the parallel universe plot to beef up its episode count. But its status is well-earned. The performances are elevated. Olaf Pooley (Stahlmann) manages to produce two subtly modulated performances, with his alt universe variation standing as a slightly more aloof, single-minded mad man. I imagine alt-Stahlmann sleeping on his couch in his office, while prime-Stahlmann actually has a wife (albeit neglected) who arranges his dry cleaning and makes excuses for oft cancelled dinner parties. "St-alt-mann" always seems slightly crueler as well, rubbing the faces of his technicians in the green goo to accelerate their transformations into Primords. Or was it just a case of prime-Stahlmann never getting the chance?

Meanwhile Christopher Benjamin adds a sense of comfort, security and a twinkle which never lets the viewer completely give into despair (oh for the Sir Keiths of the world who will always make sure there is seat for everyone in the canteen). And Derek Newark's special brand of edge-of-the-razor machismo (which manifests itself in both a sweaty neck kerchief and a form fitted suit) anchors the action even as the hopelessness factor steadily rises. 

Although Inferno is as dark as Doctor Who gets (see also The Waters of Mars and Orphan 55), there is great catharsis in the ending the story with no more damage than a few barbed comments from the Doctor towards the Brigadier.

Locations: Kingsnorth Industrial Estate, Hoo St Werburgh, Kent. The perfect location for all your dystopian needs.

Call Forwards: "Pete's World" in Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel would see another foray into a parallel Earth during David Tennant's freshman year, while series 12's Orphan 55 offers a chilling vision of an Earth ravaged by environmental disaster. 

Hammer Horror or I, Claudius? Er, the ever dependable Pat Gorman was indeed in the latter.

Cheese Please:  A lava hot baked brie

Next Up:   Recycle Your Plastics

Mars Attacks!

Doctor Who has a mother (Verity Lambert) and father (Sydney Newman) it also has two influential godfathers: Nigel Kneale (Quatermass) and Douglas Adams (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy). The former can be felt in the early 70s era of the program, while Adams, late as always, didn't show up until the late 70s. 

I came late to Quatermass, with its modern British rocket program and science-y gravitas, long after I'd absorbed its influence through Doctor Who through stories such as The Daemons, Image of Fendahl and of course Ambassadors of Death.  The latter in it's cloudy, black and white, pre-vidfired version was frankly stiff and boring viewing.

And it moved like a slug stalling for time. And if you asked me summarize the story I'd have had to reach for my ragged copy of the Jean-Marc Lofficier guide, because I almost always fell asleep somewhere in the middle of the late night omnibus version that played during my early teen years.

Flashforward years later to the golden era of region-free DVD players, cheap flights to London and generously stocked shelves of a Virgin superstore: I picked up a boxset of the existing Quatermass television serials.  They were a revelation. With relatively simple production values they were a masterclass in slow-burn storytelling, solid characterization and mood. Start with Quatermass and the Pit: it's the most accessible and then move on to Quatermass II (sadly only a couple of episodes exist of the first serial, The Quatermass Experiment). You can see a harder version of the relationship between the Doctor and the Brigadier in the pairing of Professor Bernard Quatermass and Colonel Breen. The spirit of scientific curiosity butting heads with order, skepticism and blowing stuff up.

The Ambassadors of Mars excels in the verisimilitude that runs confidently through season 7 of the series.  Characters and groups have agendas and there are (mostly) plausible attempts to fulfil them. We get a rich array of characters representing every aspect of the drama: scientists, the military, the media.

Locations:  Lafarge Aggregates (Marlow), Coldmoorholme Lane, Spade Oak, Little Marlow, Buckinghamshire: Another time honoured gravel pit and Reegan's fave spot to dump bodies.

Call Forwards: Mars will pop up a couple of times in the post 2005 series. The Waters of Mars will introduce a nasty liquid, lunching on the human explorers to the red planet.  Later in The Empress of Mars we'll see a return of the Ice Warriors to Mars along with Victorian soldiers for a tale of intergalactic colonialism.

Hammer Horror or I, Claudius? The ever reliable Cyril Shaps was in Hammer's Rasputin, the Mad Monk from 1966.  And Geoffrey Beevers played a gravedigger in the Hammer House of Horror episode "Growing Pains."

Cheese Please:  Aged Havarti from the Empire Cheese Cooperative 

Next Up:  It's the End of the World as We Know It