Ten Stories #1: "We're trying to beat the Daleks, not start a jumble sale!"

ON TEN STORIES

As someone who came to Doctor Who when it was off-air, I’ve never really differentiated between eras, and always watched the series piecemeal, as almost standalone stories. Perhaps because of this, I find the relationship between Doctor Who’s diverse periods completely fascinating, something that’s been emphasised by the new series’ more rigorously consecutive season structure.

This, then, is an attempt to watch one of each of the ten Doctors’ stories, preferably from as unbiased a mindset as possible – that is, ones that are new or at least unfamiliar to me. I don’t have any great goal in mind, simply to try to view the series’ various eras as a complete whole.

Obviously, Doctor Who has always operated in the same fundamental ways, but, aside from the fact that we’re fans and so appreciate the progression and links, it’s hard to see what really connects The Aztecs or Mawdryn Undead (as a random example) to, say, Midnight. That’s part of the show’s brilliance, obviously, but it does throw me sometimes. This, then, is my daring voyage through Doctor Who’s distinct eras...

Review: THE CHASE
Written by Terry Nation, directed by Richard Martin, 1965

Whenever I watch sixties stories, much as I love the era, I can’t help but find it bizarre that there’s any relationship between them and the twenty-first century version. But then, The Chase is such an ostentatious mess that it’s not a whole lot removed from, say, The Stolen Earth/Journey’s End. In fact, there’s an OTT lack of restraint here that actually makes Davies’ magnum opus seem a clear successor to this story.

The Chase is very much an ‘adventure’ – it’s ridiculous, but unselfconsciously, so it doesn’t matter – operating under a spectacle-over-story crowd-pleasing mentality: snippets of famous historical events! Daleks! Dalekmania-milking robots! A horror genre parody! New York! An evil double! The whole thing’s an absolute treat, with about ten times the usual amount of madness. Even the plunking piano music makes me imagine some crazed cartoon pianist hammering away, shirt collar askew, sweat flying…

The inclusion of the historical scenes shown on the visualiser alone are joyfully random – especially with a rare classic series acknowledgement of pop culture thrown in, in the form of the Beatles footage (which is so unprecedented that it feels wrong, but nevertheless fits into this chaotic story). Given its bad reputation, I was amazed by how charmingly funny it is too (and not in a piss-take way); Terry Nation brings a genuine comic sensibility to proceedings, even in small details like the Doctor’s extended mumbling and gesticulating with a screwdriver at the beginning, and peeping from behind the time-space visualiser; Ian’s deadpanned, “It’s a bit far-fetched” about his Monsters from Outer Space book; the whole crew variously kicking the visualiser. There’s a tiny moment which I find almost unfeasibly funny, too, where Barbara asks Vicki what flavour space-bar the TARDIS food machine has dispensed, which Vicki answers with a nonchalant, "Guava" – which I imagine must have been impossibly exotic in 1965…

Also:
• Ian’s, “Get with it, Barbara, get with it!”
• The trail in the sand: “Probably blood” “Oh yes, it’s bound to be!”
• The Doctor sunbathing and singing: “What’s that awful noise?!” “Awful noise? I could charm the nightingales out of the trees!”
• “I have the directional instincts of a homing pigeon!”

I love seeing this (arguably, best-characterised) TARDIS crew really having fun and enjoying each other’s company; Vicki’s interaction with Ian (the ring in the sand and the story about the castle) is charming and almost unexpectedly natural (“Excalibur!”), and miles away from many companions who literally don’t do anything more than expound the plot.

Visually however, this is a particularly shoddy sixties story (compare and contrast with the following, rather beautiful Time Meddler, with its almost stylised forced-perspective sets and back-projected clouds, or the later War Machines), but still includes some unexpectedly creative visual devices (the Doctor operating the TARDIS’ controls to camera; Ian and Babs’ photomontage farewell; the comic-strip additions to the Dalek/Mechanoid battle – which actually looks quite stunning, with its frenetic cuts, close-ups, zooms, canted angles, and overlaid images).

The Daleks are actually lovingly shot from a variety of angles, and frequently framed so as to show only certain parts of them, with the focus switching between eyestalks and plungers – but nevertheless, this story is enormously hokey, with its literally 2D sets and the poorly-dubbed ‘double’. But, it just doesn’t matter. I won’t say poor effects are an intrinsic part of Doctor Who’s appeal, but the lower the budget, the less televisual it becomes and the more like a filmed play – and so its effectiveness comes down to suspension of belief. And, as Doctor Who is fundamentally ridiculous, effects just don’t matter; it’s all about believing in it.

I get the feeling the poncy interpretative-dance-schooled Aridians represent exactly what Russell T Davies has been trying to avoid with his reluctance to show alien cultures, and Mechanus (especially the Fungoids) might be a bit Mighty Boosh – but most of the story’s dodginess has more to do with the technical limitations of the camerawork and (turgid) editing than anything. (Even the painted Aridian backdrops are perfectly acceptable, and the addition of the calcified rock shapes on the sand on location is strangely effective.)

What I found most notable about this story though, was to do with the Doctor. The First Doctor is great – Hartnell is a brilliant actor, and arguably the ultimate expression of the Doctor as an unconventional hero; I love the idea of an old, Edwardian gentleman saving the world every week. However, I do appreciate that he is relatively difficult to appreciate (as opposed to, say, the more immediate Troughton), but here he does have that immediacy. He’s crotchety, yes, but also a mix of charming, funny, in control and regretful, playing much of this material surprisingly straight.

It really does feel like the end of an era here – and it’s rather a glorious send-off (despite – given the story’s reputation – evidently not being to everyone’s taste). The Doctor’s outrage at Ian and Babs’ decision to leave, and his refusal to help, is touchingly telling, and shows why I like the character of the (First) Doctor so much – he’s not always all sweetness and light and can be difficult, rather than being a perfect hero, fully and selflessly in control of his emotions.

That there isn’t an actual goodbye for Ian and Barbara (key original cast members, no less!) is interestingly effective (the very early companion departures were often a lot cleverer than people tend to give them credit for; cf Vicki’s and Victoria’s) – and probably a good thing, as it could have become mawkish and overplayed (it certainly would be now). Ian’s determination for normality makes him seem very three-dimensional, even within this pulpy story, and it’s great and surprising to see Ian and Babs on their own in London, post-Doctor (a privilege few companions are afforded; there’s also a lovely, satisfying symmetry to the Doctor and Vicki using the visualiser to watch their return). The La Jetée-style photomontage is also glorious – not least because of how charming and unprecedented a stylistic departure it is within Doctor Who, considering even basic devices like flashbacks or non-chronological plot progression weren’t used pre-2005.

The Chase – it’s a tacky piece of B-movie fluff – and yet, and yet… I actually loved this story. No other era would, could, or did produce a story as bizarrely, brazenly varied as this. I should hate its crowd-pleasing simplicity, but the Doctor Who-as-comic-strip approach is actually hugely entertaining – for one night only, at least.

"Success! Paramount success!"

Ten Stories #2: "He's got a printed circuit where his heart should be!"

Review: THE ICE WARRIORS
Written by Brian Hayles, directed by Derek Martinus, 1967

Especially in contrast to the audacity of The Chase, I increasingly can’t help feeling the Troughton era was went things started to go wrong for Doctor Who. Not that his era is bad – or that Doctor Who was ‘bad’ after the sixties generally – but, after the wildly varied and experimental Hartnell seasons, this was where reductive thinking started to mould the series into a more fixed format.

Both because Troughton’s so lovable and because so many of his stories are missing, negative feeling toward his years feels almost in bad taste, whereas Hartnell is less easily accessible, and, with more stories to judge, is more often considered fair game. This imbalance in critical feeling towards the two eras does seem somewhat unfair, cos Troughton’s era is so much less interesting…!

But – it’s still enormously exciting seeing a whole new Troughton (well, ‘whole’ in a manner of speaking). I tend not to distinguish between stories I know are completely missing, or are only lacking a couple of episodes, so in my head this story has always been filed ‘I will never see this’. But really, two episodes missing out of six is pretty good!

There are so few Troughtons that it’s easy to take him for granted, not having a great amount of variety to judge him on – but seeing him anew, in a new context, reinforces how fab he is (despite what I might think about his era as a whole). It’s also easy to forget what a massive leap he is from Hartnell (reminiscent of the Eccleston/Tennant handover). Troughton compares very strongly against Tennant, in fact (who isn’t a personal fave, but it’s great seeing a dusty old Doctor genuinely holding his own against the current mainstream one, the current benchmark); I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s just there tends to be so much hyperbole about the current incumbent. He’s so adorable that if you could put him in a story today people’d still love him. (As an aside, it’s interesting that the Doctor here considers himself a scientist – which seems remarkably mundane; now he’s a hero or champion, or even lost prince or lonely god.)

The story is a strong one from a production point of view: juxtaposing a period setting with futuristic trappings is always a striking visual device, and the combination of the manor and pop art printed-circuit costumes is very effective. Also, although this is a seemingly studio-bound story, we get a surprisingly good impression of the future ice age, with its caves and ice-falls. Despite the tell-tale squeak of polystyrene, the ice caves actually look impressively detailed (it helps they don’t have flat studio floors), while the creepy score helps give the story lashings of atmosphere. Also, Penley is a massively likeable character – when he meets the Doctor, it almost feels like two Doctors for the price of one. (Stor is an annoying bumpkin though.)

The Ice Warriors themselves are very effective monsters for this period – solid and memorably designed (the bipedal but inhuman silhouette is very successful), though the big-headed extras are quite a lot crapper. (They also show the later Ice Lords up as a pointlessly less effective variation.) In fact, these Warriors really wouldn’t require much alteration to still be effective on screen today. I love going back to old Doctor Who and it not feeling old; it makes you realise how little current Doctor Who has changed (the TARDIS team turn up, the Doctor sticks his nose in, and takes over the situation; this has never changed).

The Ice Warriors actually seems to have quite a bad reputation, at least lately (and maybe justifiably within season five), but it is a good story (and not just because it’s new to me); however, it doesn’t sparkle, and perhaps would have worked better as a four-parter.

Having watched stories from both sixties eras consecutively, what strikes me about the earliest two Doctors’ stories is that it isn’t effects which makes the current series more acceptable to modern audiences, by comparison to the old; it’s more the editing and general quality of the filming as a whole rather than individual effects that make the old series ‘unacceptable’ to a modern audience. This should be really obvious, but it’s a personal bugbear of mine that people are so dismissive of things for entirely superficial reasons.

In fact, I love the sixties specifically for its unique feel; the grainy B&W of the sixties is incomparably more atmospheric than, particularly, the crisp, too-bright eighties – and is beautiful in a way no other era compares with. It’s like the difference between vinyl and CD; it has an evocativeness to it even if you had no firsthand experience of it. Perhaps a better comparison is between Polaroid and digital pictures; whereas digital has a basic default colour balance that makes everything look the same, bland and ‘ordinary,’ Polaroid’s unique colour casts and imperfect development make everything look incomparably cooler.

Ten Stories #3: "The man's a fool!"

Review: THE AMBASSADORS OF DEATH
Written by David Whitaker, Trevor Ray (episode 1, uncredited), Malcolm Hulke (episodes 2-7, uncredited), Terrance Dicks (episodes 2-7, uncredited), directed by Michael Ferguson, 1970

It’s hard to retrospectively judge the changeover to colour, especially since this story, with its Ipcress File stylings, particularly suits black and white (although that film was in colour, but hush…). The black and white clips at the beginning of the VHS act as a brilliant trailer, while unfortunately looking far better than the colour footage; the sets and CSO are hugely improved. The titles especially must have been dazzling though – they still have such an unearthly, technicolour allure.

It’s often all too easy to lump the earliest Doctors’ eras together when considering the entirety of Doctor Who in overview, but with its stark industrial settings, this is a massive leap. It’s bleak, glum, austere; visually alone, it really doesn’t feel ‘teatime’. There aren’t many Doctor Who stories Michael Caine’s Jack Carter would feel at home in, but this is one of them.

Its stylishness – the much-cited shooting into the sun and fast cuts between Liz and the (brief) reveal of the Ambassador’s face, with building music – gives much more ‘coherent’ an approach than we’re arguably used to. The Invasion set a precedent for stories like Ambassadors, but, despite its relative ‘realism,’ it still featured supervillians and lairs, etc. Ambassadors is on a whole different level of realism again.

I also really like the earthbound setting when viewed as a not-quite-right ‘near future,’ especially since this is something people tend to ignore now. And it’s lovely (as in the later Invasion of the Dinosaurs) to have a bit of intrigue in Doctor Who. The whole thing is strangely – but appealingly – inaccessible (by comparison to the series’ most popular periods): things aren’t made easy for the audience; the good guys don’t have charming foibles, and the villains aren’t moustache-twirling clichés. The characters we have here are no longer larger than life figures – at least for a brief interlude. The Doctor doesn’t even stage the expected daring rescue when Liz is kidnapped; this very clearly isn’t the action-adventure world the Doctor usually operates in.

He does take control quickly and in a more assured manner than we’re used to, but the downside of the new realism is that it makes our hero feel like a much more conventional lead than previously. Though no Doctor in and of themselves is dated (in terms of performance or acting – ie, they are all still effective), Pertwee is arguably the most generic, as he is broadly comparable to John Steed or Jason King. Even in the aforementioned trailer alone, the Doctor, who features only as a talking head, is immediately a massive departure from his two predecessors. It’s decisiveness that makes him seem like an ‘action hero’ in a way the first two don’t; the decisive, grim Third Doctor is the closest the character has been to a conventional action hero so far.

Appropriately, even the Brigadier is at a level of all-time competence in this story, and doesn’t question the astronauts being aliens when the Doctor tells him. He’s shrewd, and has also changed his tune since the Silurians, when he disagrees with Carrington’s pre-emptive strike on the Ambassadors’ ship.

However, in the end, despite my attraction to its tone, Ambassadors is almost too dour – not that Doctor Who shouldn’t do this, but in the sense that there isn’t a great deal of variety of location, etc, in this period; the tone could have been used in conjunction with more varied stories (ie, there’s no reason, technically, why a Mawdryn Undead or Ghost Light format couldn’t have been used in the earth-exile period). Also, considering Carrington’s plan hinges on public reaction, this is an example of a story that could have been improved by showing the public or domestic sphere, as per the new series.

Overall its maturity in trying to be an adult thriller is its weakness; Inferno, say, is intelligent and mature but still plays with pulpy ideas (men into monsters and parallel worlds), whereas Ambassadors’ attempt at being a gritty adult drama is belied and undermined by a slight shoddiness (plot holes, continuity errors, under-directed extras) which seems more pronounced in relation to its high intentions.

Ten Stories #4: "The wilful procrastination of endless procedure"

Review: FULL CIRCLE
Written by Andrew Smith, directed by Peter Grimwade, 1980

This is a big leap, and feels like the first ‘modern’ story I’ve watched so far. There is suddenly much more in common with modern TV (though not necessarily modern Doctor Who), and it feels like there’s a more definitive divide between this story and the preceding three – although this is hardly surprising, given the full 10 years gap separating this from Ambassadors. It almost feels unfair to represent the Fourth Doctor’s era with one story, as his time in the role was not only so long, but so varied.

I adore Warriors’ Gate’s visual invention and willingness to deal with concepts that aren’t necessarily easy to grasp, so I’ve always had high hopes for this, the initial story of the ‘E-space trilogy’ (though State of Decay fumbles what should be the effortless combination of Doctor Who and vampires). However – bearing in mind my choices for these ten stories are entirely arbitrary – this is the worst of the four I’ve watched so far. In fact, on general terms it’s pretty good, but compared to the preceding eras it’s just too eighties, in all the ways that label has become notorious in Doctor Who circles.

There are just a few too many things that don’t do it any favours: namely, it’s populated by default peasantry, in one of those annoying futures where everyone dresses the same (which seems particularly hideous by direct comparison to season seven’s realism). Worst of all, the swotty horrible Outlers. Doctor Who never really focuses on adolescents – which is probably for the best on this evidence, as it’s so hopelessly out of touch with real teens: the ‘rebel’ Outlers are preppy, sexless am-dram tossers. Having said that, I’d take any of them over Adric, the greasy little twot; the fucking Marshchild would have made a better companion… By contrast, Romana doing a Leela and wielding a knife is possibly the best thing I’ve ever seen, in anything, ever.

The story also heralds the typical eighties hallmarks of the regulars not being involved for the whole first episode (it’s weird seeing the Fourth Doctor rendered so impotent). There’s also a tendency to put emphasis on inexplicable things (the technobabble about the scanner and the concept of E-space being treated so as to be as dreary and boring as possible). Not to mention hordes of people in the TARDIS, and everyone immediately acting like they’ve known each other for ages (Romana and Adric are particularly guilty of being written as fellow companions even in their first story together).

On the other hand, there are a lot of lovely things too:

The dressing of the woods with cobwebs, smoke, and exotic houseplants looks great. It actually seems hazy and muggy, and the (slightly homoerotic, or is that just me?!) swimmers in the water at the beginning is a nice touch. The Decider being dragged into the lake is surprisingly unpleasant and creepy – it isn’t too neat and sanitised – but actually quite a beautiful scene too.

Everyone always raves about the Marshmen, but I’ve never been convinced by photos – on screen though, shiny and salamander-like, they do look great, especially in the woods, lit by the sunlight coming through the trees. Amazingly, even the Starliner’s corridors look pretty good (for corridors); with their ceilings they are claustrophobic and not too plain – though not as good as the slave ship in Warriors’ Gate; and the Doctor on trial by the Deciders looks awesome, in the big, sparely lit Book Room set.

However, though Peter Grimwade makes everything look great, things seems less assured when it comes to the actors. It all looks ace (you have to love the Doctor leaping about through the mist in his moody burgundy greatcoat), but there’s a fatal lack of conviction overall. There’s a very ‘Bidmeadian’ attempted cleverness (when it isn’t particularly clever at all, really), and ultimately feels a bit flat and banal. It’s not witty or funny, and doesn’t have any real danger or violence – or humanity, for that matter. It has no balls, spunk, or pizzazz (take your fancy); this is Doctor Who emasculated.

As for Tom, while undeniably a great Doctor, his albeit undoubted effectiveness and ubiquity has always meant I’ve never found him particularly interesting, and it’s also hard to look at him with any objectivity. He’s possibly the most brooding, dangerous Doctor to date (although Hartnell could give him a run for his money at times) – almost a foreboding figure, which is odd, as he’s considered the definitive Doctor (though I guess not for this quality; more his ‘zaniness’).

However, an element I do like about his performance is the disparity of what is essentially a kids’ hero being played by, arguably, a not especially kid-friendly man (ie, a control freak pisshead), which I think imbues his performance with a certain edginess. It would be more typical for an actor to feel a responsibility to play down to a younger audience, which Tom doesn’t do; at least in his more serious moments, it’s a quite uncompromising, and, strangely, not even that likeable performance. However, I prefer this to the accessible, cuddly version which, arguably, Tennant verges too much on (touchy-feely and new man; I prefer the Doctor to have more steel).

Ten Stories #5: "Ah, conformity… There is no other freedom"

Review: FOUR TO DOOMSDAY
Written by Terrance Dudley, directed by John Black, 1982

My comments regarding Full Circle notwithstanding, I hate the constant criticism of the eighties, because I genuinely think there is a fairly even mix of good and awful stories throughout Doctor Who’s entire run. However, Davison’s era is for me what ‘eighties Doctor Who’ conjures up, in a negative sense. In fact, if I ever say anything derogatory about the eighties, I mean Davison, with the possible addition of seasons twenty-three and –four – though at least twenty-four was a new direction.

I’ve realised that I’d struggle for any way of accurately describing Davison’s era. It continues the trend set by Full Circle, in that it isn’t funny or witty, clever, whimsical, violent, or dark. It’s not even mindless popcorn entertainment. It’s just a bit nondescript, possibly po-faced, but with no real direction. It baffles me who the production team thought they were making this for. There’s a strange prissiness or prudery at work in this period too, no doubt deriving from John Nathan-Turner’s horror of ‘hanky-panky in the TARDIS’; ie, all the things Russell T Davies introduced. There’s no acknowledgement or suggestion of anything too real, like alcohol or sexuality and people fancying each other. The sixties may have been morally upright, but you could imagine Ian and Barbara at least thinking about having a sex life, whereas Nyssa, say, probably didn’t even have a vagina.

Obviously I'm generalising, but, for me, the Davison era is the period when Doctor Who really lost its way – in that, it seems like no-one had the faintest clue what they were trying to create. There is no vision behind this. The Fifth Doctor’s eighties have no quirkiness or surreality, or even any of the unexpected little twists that characterise Revelation, say, Greatest Show, or Ghost Light. It’s safe, tame, and bland.

As for the Fifth Doctor himself, I realised when I got back into Doctor Who that, much as I genuinely love each and every Doctor, it’s Peter I probably love… the least. Just because there’s the least there. Yes, he does amazingly with pretty thin material, but I just find very little to notice, let alone love. I find the idea of a youthful, sporty, blond Doctor far more interesting in theory than practise (to me, he works far better in The Tides of Time comics cycle than he ever did on TV). Although here we get onto discussing his ineffectualness, the writers not knowing what to do with him, and that’s all old ground.

Actually, he is kind of great here, but the problem is I’m not sure that’s typical: he’s a bit shiftier and more manic than usual in his first performance, as if he manages more sparkle while unsure of himself. His performance in this story brings out a lot of the best attributes of the Doctor (curiosity, sarcasm, distractibility, and pained concern), but unfortunately this pretty much amounts to saying ‘he’s downhill from his first performance on’. (Interestingly, he does seem more modern than his predecessors, in describing the Urbankans as "frogs with funny hairdos" and talking about safety pins as earrings.)

The radical change of direction for the series, introducing such a vague, dithering Doctor was obviously always going to be a gamble. So the inexplicable decision to saddle him with not one but two alien companions boggles the mind. Surely ‘everyday everyman’ audience identification figures make sense, as demonstrated, in fact, by the impossible-to-relate-to main characters here, doing inexplicable technological things in ridiculous costumes. At least Tegan demonstrates some confusion and human emotion – I don’t especially like her, but if only there’d been space for her to be developed, one-on-one.

Alien companions just don’t work, unless it’s an easily graspable concept (ie, Leela – who I know isn’t an alien, but, you know: ‘savage primitive’ is easy to get from the chamois swimwear) – whereas, Adric is… a maths expert. In pyjamas. Nyssa is… some other sort of expert. In velvet. They end up (by necessity) talking about earth as if they’re from it (or have a reason to give a shit) – so, let’s mark this down as a failed experiment and move on. Oh, wait, no – Turlough’s on his way.

Perhaps this demonstrates what differentiates the eighties (at least, the Fifth Doctor era) from the preceding eras (more specifically than just ‘style over substance’): there is no focus on characterisation. The historical personages here (Mayans, etc) are basically extras. Compare to The Aztecs (or any historical), where Autloc, Cameca, etc, are recognisable, believably human characters. There is nothing human here.

And nothing dramatic happens either! (There’s a swordfight… which the regulars are no more involved with than to watch, while the villains spend their time watching the regulars.) The WHOLE SHITTING THING amounts to endless exposition; constant babble about silicon chips which is as dull and meaningless as it sounds. It remains likeable enough – it’s not hateful – but as I’ve chosen to watch it, this begs the question, who thought any casual viewer would care about this, and not find it utterly tedious and inexplicable?

There are lots of fudged moments where things could almost get interesting, but don’t: Adric’s apparent betrayal of the Doctor is robbed of any drama (possibly wishful thinking anyway, where Matthew Waterhouse is concerned) by the Doctor telling him he’s an idiot, and Adric… accepting it. Similarly, the ‘daring’ spacewalk is filmed so turgidly that it is in no way exciting, epic, or triumphant, as it should be. It is literally as interesting as a walk in the park. At least Monarch is funny and naturalistic (in fact, he’s a pretty amazing villain, in that he is actually quite charming, but deranged – that actually comes across).

Yes, this story could be characterised as demonstrating style over substance (ie, shallow storytelling), but, embarrassingly, the direction is actually far more pedestrian than in the sixties, or season seven, which had a sense of style to them! Obviously things can’t always automatically get better as they progress, but surely there must have been some red faces when they realised they were making a series that looked considerably worse than it did 12 years ago? I guess that’s the problem; no-one was aware or pragmatic enough to realise.

That this story isn’t going to rile anyone makes it worse; it’s entirely ambitionless. There’s no sense of fun, or alternatively, darkness and violence. Four to Doomsday encapsulates the Davison era’s sense of naive straightforwardness, but also how it got the basics wrong. It lost not so much realism (a dubious concept within Doctor Who), but conviction.

Also, why the chuffing hell doesn’t anyone have a bee in their bonnet about the Fifth Doctor casually chucking poison over Monarch? Sheer favouritism!

Ten Stories #6: "The wood’s about to become populated with new trees"

Review: MARK OF THE RANI
Written by Pip and Jane Baker, directed by Sarah Hellings, 1985

Thank Christ! Real people, in a real, believable environment, the location filming for which is very ‘handsome’ and authentic. It also shows how much perceptions change; I had this video as a kid, and thought it was all a bit flimsy and dull. Now the scene-setting opening scenes look absolutely gorgeous (the villagers backlit by the sun, with illuminated insects buzzing around). The whole thing in fact is amazingly stylish, for this period (shooting through hedgerows, etc), and the pastoral music helps. (It’s certainly one of very few Doctor Who stories that has any call to be compared, even in passing – and totally unexpectedly – to Terrance Malick.)

Considering this is reviled eighties Doctor Who, it is actually quite beautiful (which is rarer than you might hope). Even the cartoonish elements don’t feel jarringly silly, and for once, even the extras know what they’re doing; there’s an attention to detail even here, with their tugging of forelocks – hats off to director Sarah Hellings.

Compared to the Fifth Doctor’s seasons, this has a genuinely sense of style, and an authenticity and surfeit of imagination (albeit of a bonkers Pip’n’Jane variety). This story has quite a solid rep – undeserved, I thought, on the basis of years’ old memories, but it is actually kind of great. I love season twenty-two’s distinctive darkness and, yes, violence, but it must be admitted that, though an uncharacteristically tame story for the season, this does seem far more timeless than Varos or Revelation. (Also, it’s lovely to see some trees!)

Its reputation is sullied (for me) by its association with the ludicrous cartoon that is Time and the Rani, but – despite a few silly coincidences, etc – it is an amazingly subtle, well-characterised, and attractively shot story, with above-par direction. Which is pretty impressive for a Pip’n’Jane story featuring Antony Ainley, Kate O’Mara, a rubber tree, and a baby T-rex. I’m so glad the classic series is still capable of surprising me, or at least of overturning my preconceptions!

However, while I do hate the really obvious mindset of introducing a ‘female Master,’ not least because it demeans his and the Doctor’s dualistic opposition, the Rani is actually far more dangerous and credible a threat than Ainley is here. Her contemptuous, superior snideness is a ball, and I love how she and the Master act like a bitchy married couple (“You see what she’s like?”). And, yes, the Rani’s TARDIS is a triumph of design and realisation.

It helps – and I’m not just being charitable or making allowances, as people tend to do for the runt of the litter – that Colin is a genuinely great Doctor here. He’s an engaging mix of the shrewd, compassionate (with Luke), reckless (setting off the Rani’s booby-trap unnecessarily!), passionate, frivolous, and righteous (“They should never have exiled you. They should have locked you in a padded cell”).

I even actually quite like the Sixth Doctor’s costume. Or at least, I’ve come to terms with it. Yes, it’s an odd decision on the part of the production team, motivated presumably by the desire to create a brandable look rather than anything else, but, as a magician’s costume, it isn’t inappropriate for the Doctor. It works against Baker’s snappish persona, creating an interesting tension – though a visually darker, more ‘serious’ costume would undeniably have acted as a helpful visual signifier of the antiheroic elements of his characterisation, perhaps making the Sixth Doctor easier to swallow. As it is though, what bugs me is how perfect and precise it is. A ‘tasteless’ costume would work much better if it didn’t seem quite so homogenous; clearly made as a whole outfit, it’d be more believable if it appeared like random parts.

The Sixth Doctor’s characterisation is funny, actually; he is presumably meant to be ‘dangerous’. Except… he isn’t; he’s likeable, just a bit snappish. Tom and Billy are far more dangerous than Colin is. I’m sure people would have far less problem with his performance if he weren’t so obviously being shoehorned into a role that doesn’t sit quite right. He seems like what he is: a nice, genial man trying to act like a bastard.

It’s very, very weird that this story has the exact same format as contemporary two-parters like The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, et al (especially because I always forget season twenty-two’s altered format, as I never noticed the different length as a kid). Once you realise though, it’s like an unlikely retrospective re-edit of an unpopular Doctor. Odd that, technically, this could be screened today and be acceptable in format (and stand up in most other ways – which probably couldn’t truly be said for a lot of bona fide ‘classics’).

However, having said all that, much as I was pleasantly surprised by this story’s relative solidity and coherence, I don’t find Mark of the Rani that interesting. Personally, I find the jumble of ideas and approaches of Revelation (and, to a lesser extent, The Two Doctors) more appealing. Mark of the Rani could be from any era; some people no doubt prefer that, but I’d rather stories have an approach individual to their era (surely something must be wrong if they don’t?).

(Also – Jeez, Luke Ward fills his britches! I mean, literally.)

Ten Stories #7: "Let us teach them the limits of their technologies!"

Review: BATTLEFIELD
Written by Ben Aaronovitch, directed by Michael Kerrigan, 1989

Though I’ve seen Battlefield before, it was always such a crushing disappointment compared to the rest of season twenty-six that it has remained very unfamiliar to me. Opening a season with a scene set in a garden centre is baffling enough, and I can’t help but question the logic of presenting the Brigadier and UNIT without explanation, fifteen years after they stopped being regular fixtures of the series.

However, rewatching it now, despite not being a prime example of its era, the change of emphasis from the last few stories I’ve watched is notable: Doctor Who is suddenly aware of and drawing on its own mythology in a positive way – rather than through meaninglessly returning monsters. There’s a complex, adult awareness of the Doctor as a mythic, legendary figure; for the first time the Doctor is explicitly presented in the mythologised way which will culminate in Russell T Davies’ ‘lonely god’. Similarly, UNIT and the Brigadier are rejigged and reimagined in line with the current production team’s approach, not rehashed verbatim; UNIT is international and hardware-oriented, while the Brigadier is given a domestic life.

Suddenly Doctor Who is trying to be bigger and more ambitious than just telling ‘thrilling adventures’ – it’s epic and mythic, and has themes (nuclear armageddon, etc). Even in a shit story it’s noticeably more sophisticated an approach, being experimental in a way Doctor Who hasn’t been since, arguably, season eighteen (not that that season is a flawless template, as evidenced by Full Circle).

It’s such a shame the production is fumbled here, cos Aaronovitch’s skill at characterisation and the continued mythologisation of the Doctor has the potential to be as effective as in Remembrance of the Daleks. I’m not sure the cast of characters are even especially likeable, but never before this period would such a multitude of characters have been as economically but effectively characterised as broadly believable real people. There’s also a lot of good – if somewhat hyperbolic or portentous – lines, which remind me quite a lot of Steven Moffat’s scripts: “The situation is normal. It doesn’t get much worse than that”; “She vanquished me. And I threw myself on her mercy”; “I cannot be bound so easily!”; “Night has fallen here”; “Look to your children, Merlin!”

What’s particularly frustratingly is that the superficial awfulness of this story masks the good stuff underneath. If there was ever a story crying out for a dark tone, and a bit of subtlety to emphasise its mystery, it’s this. Instead we get bizarre little decisions which really damage the story’s credibility, like characters inexplicably spinning into the tinselly vortex. The sunny weather really doesn’t help the atmosphere, either, and the infamous music ruins it.

However, though a lot of things aren’t right with this production, it’s not hard to imagine it pruned and reshaped (beyond the realms of what’s possible with the DVD edit, which I haven’t seen), with a subtler score and more atmosphere (night filming, stormy weather), and performances taken down a less-is-more route. Unfortunately, the production design is obviously unalterable, which is tragic as the initial shot of Excalibur makes my heart sink; it’s so cheap and tawdry, in its Quasar set. (A far cry from Mike Tucker’s brilliantly original, organic design sketches.)

I also really wish the budget had stretched to the intended technological suits of armour, with mirrored visors and built-in displays; it would not only have been much more memorable, but also helped to visually present the idea of extradimensional knights. Similarly, though the Destroyer really is excellent, it’s a pity his gradual transformation from businessman to demon couldn’t have been realised (especially since this could have been done inexpensively with some horned shadows and creativity). More prosaically though, he’s crying out for an action figure!

In terms of format, it struck me whilst watching this how bizarre it is that the 25 minute episode-and-cliffhanger format remained entirely unchanged from 1963 to 1989 (even more so given the exception of season twenty-two’s 45 minute episodes). I’m not sure if that’s a case of ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it,’ or whether it just shows a dubious reticence on the part of the production team to alter anything fundamental, when they should’ve had the bravery to do whatever would best suit the stories.

Ultimately, it doesn’t work to try to reconcile Battlefield with the darkness and realism of the rest of season twenty-six, but viewed as an ideas-packed, larger than life adventure more akin to the preceding season (with a certain amount of complexity and underlying themes), it works quite nicely. It’s set in the near future! A modernised UNIT are back! And the Brigadier! With Arthurian knights from another dimension! And a big blue demon! And helicopter crashes! These are the bold – but slightly bonkers – concepts that people are so taken with if Russell T Davies’ name is on the credits, but reviled elsewhere.

Looked at in this way, I actually quite enjoyed this story. The realisation is a mess, and it should be a lot better than this, but even in terms of what actually made it to the screen, I found it quite agreeable. Which is a lot preferable to hating it for not being as good as Fenric or Ghost Light (or even its own novelisation). Watched charitably, it’s an imaginative script let down by cartoonish realisation. You can see at least a bit of the brilliance of the writer of Transit and The Also People (ie, the ‘tab’ scene, and the hardware-oriented international UNIT), and that’s enough for me to forgive any amount of sparkly gunfire and weedy swordfights. (It’s interesting noting Aaronovitch’s interest in the Brigadier and African characters, which will culminate with the African Lethbridge-Stewart dynasty, and Kadiatu, in the New Adventures.)

I’m not sure whether it’s watching the eras in context that’s making me more charitable to stories I’ve always disliked, but it is refreshing to actually be able to take back a negative opinion. As this is what a lot of people seem to have used the 2009 gap year for, I’m glad I’m managing to join in with the reassessment.

As for the eighties overall, in a recent DWM interview, there was a box-out containing some of Gareth Roberts’ so-called controversial opinions about Doctor Who, including the fact that the Doctor has never been miscast (with any faults being down to production team), and that with the right marketing, the whole of the decade could have been a success. Both of those points seem quite self-evident to me, but it’s interesting imagining, say, Colin and Sylvester actually having had some standing in the public eye – I can’t imagine quite what the general public would have made of Battlefield, but in fairness I don’t think it’s any worse or less accessible than quite a lot of the new series.

NB: So… is Ancelyn related to Marcus Gilbert’s role in Evil Dead 3?? Does this make Bruce Campbell canon?!

Ten Stories #8: "This can’t be how it ends!"

Review: THE TV MOVIE
Written by Matthew Jacobs, directed by Geoffrey Sax, 1996

It can’t be overstated how inexplicable the TVM is, especially when you consider it functioning as the pilot for a reboot of a then-defunct series. After a story from an era very obviously getting to grips with the idea of utilising, rethinking, and expanding the mythology of the series, the garbled introductory voiceover makes it painfully clear that this is made by people who don’t have a clue what they’re doing. “It was on the planet Skaro that my old enemy, the Master, was finally put on trial.” Two seconds in and it’s already displaying a fatal disregard for anyone not on intimate terms with the original series. It’s inexplicable – did anyone involved with this have the faintest clue how to market a pilot?! Cos this isn’t how. Skaro, the Master? What?

More fundamentally baffling is the introduction of a past Doctor with no pop-cultural status, not from the PoV of an audience identification figure, but in the TARDIS console room – which it wouldn’t even be immediately obvious to a new audience is within the police box-in-space. It’s all too easy to say this, post-Rose, but restarting a series by going back to absolute basics (the Doctor – otherworldly hero; the TARDIS – erratic time machine) is surely a no-brainer. That is really all that the audience needs to be provided with (just look at An Unearthly Child – less is more, people!).

Who really thought muddying the water with thirteen lives – or even starting out with a regeneration! – was a good idea. (In fact, kicking off with a regeneration is the most damning demonstration of the counter-productively fan-pleasing approach adopted by Philip Segal; including something fan ‘wisdom’ demands should be included, even though it doesn’t work narratively, and which has no emotion behind it for the general audience.) Funny how, after four-and-a-bit series, the BBC Wales crew haven’t found any discussion of how regeneration works necessary, yet here ‘12 lives’ is bandied around willy-nilly, as if it means anything at all.

Everyone seems to be in awe of the fact that Russell T Davies managed to reboot DW for a wide audience (probably because the TVM fumbled it so badly) – and yeah, it is a feat in terms of ratings and the fact that family programming has been non-existent for so long… But in terms of creating a good introductory piece of Doctor Who (which I would argue Rose isn’t), surely it’s a no-brainer: a fully-formed, eccentric Doctor arrives in the life of an ordinary, likeable person, fights some memorable monsters, and gets to be heroic and win, in the context of an exciting – but funny and not po-faced – adventure. Obviously that’s what Davies was going for with Rose – I don’t think he succeeded (it’s vacuous and anodyne), but the TVM… clearly no-one had a vision for this worked out.

The TVM’s so concerned with what ‘should’ be included that consequentially, nothing’s bold enough here – as often stated, they tried to play with all the old continuity, but then messed it up; better that they’d had the courage to make big changes. The new series may be flawed, but its canniness in gradually reintroducing the fundamentals of the series from the ground up, and dispensing with those which aren’t relevant, really makes the TVM seem more inept than ever. The 2005 series managed to reformat the structure of the series (increased emotional content and emphasis on the ‘real world’) without actually disagreeing with or rebooting established continuity (allowing for fan-pleasing references which don’t alienate the general audience). The TVM, on the other hand, manages to alienate the general audience whilst trying to give lip-service to the past.

Contrasting the stylistic approach of the TVM and the new series says a lot about their fundamental differences; here, the Doctor is a Byronic dandy, while Davies gave us a bovver boy and a skinny-suited geek; the TVM has Puccini, the new series has Britney, Soft Cell, and the Scissor Sisters. Ordinarily I’d find the higher-brow approach more laudable, and though the new series’ pop-cultural excesses can grate, there has also been genuine intelligence and emotion beyond that – which the TVM, with its apparent greater aspirations, doesn’t ever achieve.

The new series is often too involved with its canny, audience-luring set-pieces and celebrity casting, but this is a bizarre example of things going much too far the other way. There’s nothing memorable about the script, or events, or characters (beyond the Doctor, arguably, who, though well-played, doesn’t feel new or original). Being a one-off has, I think, given the TVM as status within fandom that’s at odds with its ‘importance’ or quality, so it’s very easy to take for granted – even to take for granted that it’s a bit shit. But, watched objectively, it’s even worse than that: there is literally no imagination on display, nothing you haven’t seen before; no creativity or imagination. That is, all the things that make me prize Doctor Who.

By contrast, watching Terry Gilliam’s Twelve Monkeys recently, I was struck for the first time by its broad similarities with the TVM, which highlight the latter’s absolute wretchedness: an addled time traveller is hospitalised in nineties America, before getting away with the smart, cynical female doctor who treated him, and who eventually comes round to his way of thinking... Twelve Monkeys is everything an uninspired, half-baked made-for-TV movie isn’t (complex, effective, and visually idiosyncratic), and forms a damning counterpoint.

It’d be missing the point to think that its being made (well, set) in America, with American actors, is the problem– it’s that it’s made with an American mentality applied to a British franchise, which jars horribly (ie, po-faced, self-important, lazy, illogical – which is a slur, but generally true outside of HBO. Christ, I’d pay good money for a HBO Doctor Who…). The US setting doesn’t work, not because of the setting itself, but because though an English element is injected, it’s so patently fake and affected (tea, waistcoats, HG Wells), that it doesn’t ring true at all and is ultimately meaningless. (Whereas British productions like The Gunfighters or Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks are better able to integrate the show’s oft-cited ‘Englishness’ into an American milieu.) At least if an effort had been made to realise the San Francisco setting as something more than a generic American city there would have been some individuality.

What we got is a generic rainy thriller, in a generic American setting, with no individuality or any memorable ideas (the ‘yeti in the Underground’ factor). It’s pretty much the sort of rain-slicked, low-rent thriller Channel 5 used to show late at night; all that’s missing is the soft porn and Jean Claude Van Damme. Or Eric Roberts. (…Oh.) As such, I realised this time round that I’d never watch this if it weren’t (tangentially) Doctor Who.

All this is especially frustrating considering the set design; were the production overall as good and assured as it looks – if it had the plot and ideas to match – it’d be great. (The mirroring of scenes also is at least stylistically interesting – James Whale’s Frankenstein with the regeneration; the reborn Doctor and Master; the Doctor looking for clothes and Chang Lee investigating his belongings.) Regardless of your opinion of the concept of the TVM’s TARDIS interior, it looks fantastic. It’s so lovingly shot that I want to be in it, and smell the beeswax polish.

The quality of the production design also makes me feel we might really have missed out because of the lack of monsters – which is rather a baffling omission, making this story feel fundamentally different to existing Doctor Who. I guess ‘monsters’ were a bit passé in 1996, but a major appeal of Doctor Who is slavering BEMs lumbering out of the shadows. There’s fun, humour, excitement, tension, and scares there, and this story is therefore a good deal less fun, humorous, exiting, tense and scary than it could otherwise have been. Not that I don’t think there should be monsterless stories – but a more tangibly dangerous threat might have been the jolt this story needed. (What would a TVM monster have been like though? They could at least have had a good one-off one, à la Battlefield, rather than an army of CG Daleks landing on the Golden Gate Bridge – probably something bestial, shifty, and mainly unseen. Something a bit ‘edgy,’ more X-Files than B-movie; maybe like that Eighth Doctor DWM strip with Grace, focusing on a monster based on the weird translucent snake, rather than the Master (arguably a better concept…).)

Despite this oversight, at least Grace counts for quite a lot, and I like her – a genuinely grown-up, intelligent woman. She is quite similar to the sardonic Liz Shaw – no bad thing – though, like her, she almost doesn’t feel like a bona fide companion at all – whether because of these atypical characteristics, or a lack of roundels and blobby monsters, I’m not sure). And McGann’s obviously beautiful and brilliant, and clearly deserves better, as he is mainly called upon to shout a lot (which, luckily, he is very good at). Having said that though - I almost can’t believe how transparent the concept of the Eighth Doctor is (did we really fall for this back in 1996?): ‘he’s Victorian like you’d expect… but sexy!!’. The Victorian/Byronic elements of his costume are clearly meant to indicate individuality, but by people to whom this doesn’t come naturally.

Yeah, there are some lovely scenes in this story – the, "Don’t be sad, Grace. You’ll do great things" scene between Grace and the Doctor in her house is charming – but, on balance, the more I think about the TVM (and let’s face it, it’s had a lot of scrutiny), the worse it is. I started off trying to be fairly charitable, but by the end, it’s unforgivable. It’s just bollocks, isn’t it? I like what it gave to the Doctor Who world (in terms of the books and audio ranges), but considering that amounts to the Eighth Doctor and the Gothic TARDIS interior, that doesn’t seem much pay off for seven years’ wait and 89 minutes of my life.

The bottom line: scratch McCoy (much as I love him) and the regeneration (at least on screen), along with the backstory, amnesia, and temporal orbit, then add a monster, idiosyncrasy, wittier humour… and, then, yeah, it’d work. It is an intriguing digression (no other DW looks or feels like this)… unfortunately, that’s not entirely a good thing.

Frankly, I don’t have the patience to discuss it any more, but here as some other thoughts:

• The Doctor being mown down by a gang with automatic weapons would be unthinkable at any other point! Can you imagine the outcry if Tennant ended up knifed by a bunch of 14-year-old hoodies?

• What shitting colour is McGann’s coat? In publicity shots it appears brown, but fandom seems to think it’s bottle green? WE NEED TO KNOW.

• Put in context with the other Masters, it is quite horrible that Eric Roberts’ version strangles Bruce’s wife one-handed… But what’s the deal with his killing semen?

• A lot of the differences from the original run (the theme, romance, half-human) seem a lot tamer in light of what would be considered liberties with the new series, if it weren’t so successful (increased emotion, romance, different format); I get the feeling fandom would have suffered a collective seizure if the new series had screened in 1996.

Ten Stories #9: "We all know what happens to nonentities! They get promoted"

Review: THE LONG GAME
Written by Russell T Davies, directed by Brian Grant, 2005

I’m not overly familiar with series one, as, though it got me back into Doctor Who, I wasn’t massively involved with it (and certainly not its run-up). But now, I’ve gotten to grips with the new series’ approach; the mix of serious stories with ‘zany’ ones, its emotional button-pushing and crowd-pleasing, and tend to cherry-pick the bits I like. But in 2005, it all felt hugely inconsistent, and a personal affront every time it was too crass or lazy. (It’s funny that now – already – it’s like going back to a forgotten, apocryphal era; like the Cushing movies, or at least an obscure prologue to Tennant’s incumbency.)

As for the Doctor, I’m deeply ambivalent about his 2005 vintage: I can’t help but feel, if you wanted an uneccentric, cocky, aggressive, war-scarred character, why make him the Doctor at all? (“Ooh, he’s tough, isn’t he?”) But at the same time, the unexpectedness of these characteristics makes him one of the most interesting incarnations, because no-one would have predicted his Mancunian swagger.

In fact, a lot of my beef with the Ninth Doctor is with his costume. I mean, I get it – black leather is shorthand for an unpretentious ‘edginess’ that’s accessible to the masses in a way a wing-collared shirt wouldn’t be. But I tend to view things in a visual sense, so maybe this bugs me more than most people, so, as the Doctor’s costume has always been such a strong visual signifier of his characteristics, this seems… unfortunately mundane. However, again, as an exception to the rule it’s interesting – so I’m ambivalent here too. (Mainly I just don’t like the hideous t-shirt/jumper thing. At least a shirt or actual jumper would’ve been more timeless.)

I do like that the Ninth Doctor is ugly though (striking, yes; handsome, no); they didn’t cast a stud Doctor, which would be one of the worst things that could happen to the character (and which is fortunately equally true of Tennant (unconventionally pretty), and Smith (‘Edward Tardishands’)). I should be grateful a leather jacket was as great a concession they made to accessibility.

Eccleston’s Doctor is also childish to the point of vindictive, but I like that he’s not perfect – what does annoy me though are the moments of forced ‘zaniness’; his ‘idiot savant’ routine, which doesn’t seem to come naturally at all (and even if this is deliberate, I still don’t like the effect it gives). Playing it straight, he’s great, so he’s not too bad here (though his anger and survivor guilt obviously comes out most in Dalek). This mostly harder portrayal of the Doctor makes the Eighth, by contrast, feel overly idealised and a bit wishy-washy. In fact, I know that Lawrence Miles considers, compared to the Ninth Doctor – introduced blowing up a department store – the nice, romantic, handsome Eighth Doctor feels like a total gyp.

Overall, it’s funny how old-school this feels (a bovver boy Doctor notwithstanding) – which is quite reassuring; with a bit of distance, it’s easy to really see that, where the TVM does feels like a different beast, this is unavoidably the same series, just given a lick of fresh paint. I even kept expecting cliffhangers (“‘That thing,’ as you put it, is in charge of the human race” – cue music!). (Visually, it doesn’t even look that much better than a lot of vintage Doctor Who; CG, film quality, and editing distinguishes it, but as it’s costumes and sets that are the more obvious, this doesn’t create such a leap as it might seem it should.) Having said that, looking back in a few more years’ time, this will equally appear very much of its time (well, I suppose most things tend to be); it’s accessible and easy to grasp, but with a veneer of voguish ‘darkness’ (just look at The Dark Knight or Watchmen).

A decision of the current production team which is very ‘now’ (being so desperate not to turn people off with anything not quite obvious enough), which I get, but don’t really like, is the contemporary-clothes-in-the-far-future approach. Yes, it avoids pyjamas and silver jumpsuits, but (say) Blade Runner-like ethnic diversity would be far more interesting and memorable (there are some weird haircuts here, but it’s mainly Next T-shirts).

More understandable (and humanising) is Davies’ trademark focus on real peoples’ lives (or lower-middle-class fixation, depending on how charitable you want to be), even in such a far-flung future. However, I can’t help feel the Editor’s rant about humanity rings worryingly true: "Strutting about all over the surface of the earth, like they’re so individual – when of course they’re not; they’re just cattle."

This is probably the most positive I’ve ever felt about the Ninth Doctor – but suddenly, it works. A harder, black-clad, no-frills Doctor (literally); I get it now. After the event, this suddenly seems quite an attractive concept. And at least these characteristics are addressed thematically/fictively (he’s like this due to the Time War), and the hard-wearing, no-nonsense clothing reflects his personality, so doesn’t appear an arbitrary choice (unlike, say, the Sixth Doctor’s costume).

The Long Game isn’t a exceptional story, by any means, but it is pretty representative of the new series’ take on the show, and, even given its cons, I’d so much rather take this over the reverential (but just… wrong) TVM. Immediately, even a ‘lesser’ story like this makes so much more sense than the TVM. This is recognisably Doctor Who – not especially in relation to a given era, but like a distillation of the public’s expectations; it’s big, brash, bold, set on a space station, has humour, action, emotion, monsters and possession, and an old-school villain. I may not like every element of Russell T Davies’ approach, but at least it has some notable imagination and idiosyncrasy.

Ten Stories #10: "Everlasting unity and uniformity"

Review: RISE OF THE CYBERMEN/THE AGE OF STEEL
Written by Tom MacRae, directed by Graeme Harper, 2006

This is the only new series story I missed when it was on TV and never managed to see, up to now. And it’s awful from before the credits (“From beyond the grave!” / the gurning death), and riddled with typical portentous new series hyperbole (“The TARDIS is dead!” / “The silent realm, the lost dimension”).

After finding myself unexpectedly enjoying the not especially highly thought of Long Game, this two-parter feels like a renege of the previous season’s promise. This is possibly an unfair story to judge by, but everything’s so colourless, even down to the Doctor (who really doesn’t make much impression; he’s just some gangly hyperactive schoolboy). Tennant doesn’t come across well at all here – it’s not so much that he’s too young, as too ‘contemporary’. With his prettiness and Cons, he seems all too readymade for the ‘MySpace generation’. Ugh.

Unfortunately, an extreme example though it its, I think this is fairly representative of the majority of the post-2005 era. It feels very shallow and flimsy – very ‘21st century’ Doctor Who. I can imagine this appeals to emo 14-year-old girls, who think it’s the height of emotional sophistication (with its rehashing of Father’s Day’s Rose-Pete interaction, but with diminishing returns), and the people who do those hideous cartoon/manga pictures of Adric and Turlough making out on DeviantArt. (I bet there’s plenty of Mickey/Jake slashfic out there too.)

This is one of those stories where lots of picky little elements add up to seriously damage the whole (somewhat like Battlefield, though there are considerably less interesting concepts or themes under the surface here). It feels very teenage – like a bad nineties CBBC programme; bright, with no real threat, and shallow emoting (Rose’s petulance, etc). The permatanned CBBC twink as a guerrilla – so is this actually a comedy?! Certainly not exactly a Genesis for the Cybermen, or a triumphant return for Graeme Harper. (Not to mention how hard I find it to believe that they predicated Mickey’s double around the Mickey/Ricky ‘gag’. Noel Clarke’s ‘hard’ acting is pretty funny though.) Oh, and Lumic looks like he’s touching cloth. All the time.

Given how lauded the new series is as ‘Doctor Who with less wobbly effects,’ the Cybermen actually look pretty disappointing, with their flares and child-bearing hips and one-man-band racket/stomping, while all the computer jargon stuff – ‘free upgrade,’ ‘not compatible,’ ‘you will be deleted,’ ‘human 0.2’ – relegates the Cybermen to the level of junk mail internet freebies, and about as threatening. (The thinking that they have to have a Dalek-equivalent war cry is absurd too.) And the extras’ electrocution acting is a big mistake – did we learn nothing from Destiny of the Daleks?

Even worse is the computer-generated conversion process and factory, which is laughably, inexplicably bad. It’d be awful if it were made for a DVD menu or something. And ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’… Yes, I get the idea of the juxtaposition, but it’s totally meaningless; there’s no thematic irony. I mean, if the character listened to something, say, romantic or emotional, it’d work (maybe something rat pack; they were all total thugs – at least that’d suit Lilt. I mean, Crane).

This feels like it has a lot less to do with Doctor Who than The Long Game (despite coming off as an Invasion remake); it’s hollow, brash, and shallow. It really encapsulates all the worst elements of a Doctor Who trying to be modern and ‘relevant’ (ooh, mobile phones help them win – how zeitgeist!). Doctor Who’s nearly always at its best when it simply does its own thing (in the new series, even if I don’t necessarily like all the more eccentric stories like Gridlock, Love and Monsters, even Partners in Crime or Turn Left, they are at least much more laudable for being so individual, compared to contrived and mass-produced stories like this or the various specials). Even the parallel world is immensely boring and uninventive – contemporary England, with some zeppelins – and this is yet another new series story with ‘possessed contemporary humans’ zombie-walking around.

In the context of a direct contrast with his nine predecessors, Tennant seems a bit too weedy and inconsequential. Like Eccleston, he’s best when he has the chance to play straight, but he doesn’t have enough gravitas, here at least. Much as I do like him when he has stronger material to play (Human Nature, Midnight, Silence in the Library), I do tend to find the Doctors who are arguably most effective on-screen (in the sense of most obviously living up to what is expected of them) less interesting than those who are flawed, or in some way less predictable (ie, Hartnell is unusual as he is essentially an elderly hero; Colin’s perceived flaws – verbosity and violence – keep him unpredictable; and Eccleston’s Doctor is fascinating as an unexpectedly original interpretation).

By comparison, Tennant seems unfortunately predictable. Yes, he’s among the less typically youthful Doctors, and is one of the most attractive, but these things are so predictable in the context of modern TV that they don’t feel like departures. Beyond that, he’s gobby and energetic, but to an extent those characteristics have always been part of his character, and don’t seem new.

Ten Stories conclusion
So, what have I leant from my travails through these ten stories? To be honest… I’m not really sure. I do find it fascinating trying to reconcile the show’s various disparate eras… but, in fact, they’re possibly too disparate to ever truly be able to relate to each other to any meaningful extent (a Not-We would probably find it bizarre that The Dalek Invasion of Earth, say, and Blink are from the same series, in the way we don’t). Their relationship is that they were made as part of a continuing series; beyond that, I suppose, it’s the wild differences of approach that make them interesting (as well as the fact that one series can encompass so many styles and approaches).

In that sense, watching these stories has given me a renewed appreciation for Doctor Who’s ambition (albeit unintentional, or unplanned), but perhaps in future it’s actually more interesting to try not to contextualise the eras in relation to one another. Their relationship just ‘is’ that they were all made under the banner of ‘Doctor Who,’ but in a way is far less important than the enjoyment a specific story can offer. Perhaps it’s more rewarding to decontextualise; to try to divorce a given story from its position in the canon, and just enjoy it purely on its own terms.

Ignoring preconceptions and the same tired associations (ratings and popular opinion), and what came before, and what we know followed; now, there’s a challenge.

If nothing else though, I think this marathon has shown me why I like DW so much – nothing revolutionary, but for its stupidly mad ideas, imagination, diversity of approach, atmosphere, feel, and, of course, characters and actors. These aren’t remarkable reason, but it’s good to be reminded. DW really is very silly but, though it means a lot to me and I take it quite seriously, my appreciation derives in a big part from that. A lot of people seem to downplay the programme’s silliness, but I really love that even when it’s playing things straight and taking an individual story seriously, its fundamental concepts are still really stupid. I enjoy that tension. It kind of means it can get away with being serious without being po-faced. This is probably a lazy comparison, but Star Trek, from the little exposure I’ve had to it, deals with concepts which, though still ridiculous from a real-life PoV (spaceships and humanoid aliens), are so firmly ensconced in our culture that they don’t seem absurd, and so there is no antidote to the general seriousness of its approach, rendering it worthy and dull. DW is mad. I love DW.

Perhaps most notably, I can be very cynical about new DW, because I’m always slightly suspicious of what’s going to happen, in case it’s messed up, so truly taking the opportunity to appreciate the diversity of the series’ past makes me very, very excited about the forthcoming Moffat/Smith era. Without being trite, that diversity makes me want Doctor Who to carry on doing new, varied things, to try new approaches and go to new places (music swells…). The potential of a change to the series is desperately exciting, coming to a point where everything’s up in the air and alterable, on the cusp of adding a whole new era to those represented here.