It’s the
claustrophobic lighthouse setting and sense of unseen dread lurking outside
that makes this one. Originally a Terence Dicks vampire story (that emerged as
the later story ‘State of Decay’), a hangover from the series’ previous
glorious run of Gothic Horror pilfering, it features a superior chamber piece
of disposable but vivid characters and an alien threat that provides the only
vivid colour and light to the damp drabness.
Tom Baker
is playful, charming, bullying and arrogant, whose high voltage and sometimes
inappropriate smile and eccentric approach always makes the Doctor compelling. His
glee at delivering the announcement, “Gentlemen, I've got news for you: this
lighthouse is under attack and by morning we might all be dead. Anyone
interested?” is a highlight. But it’s Leila that gets several great moments
here, rolling her eyes at and not at all fitting in with the turn-of-the
century’s learned helplessness construction of femininity. Louise Jameson’s
excellent line-reading cannot be underestimated, making a character that will
almost always be out-of-place (that is, more than usual for a companion)
credible and dignified, as eager to learn as to vanquish enemies, never stupid
as her “savage” origins might have her. See her explain lasers to an early Twentieth
Century lighthouseman.
The cast,
character interactions and insider trader backstory provide some meat as the
alien menace is simply a fluorescent green blob and the showdown his mostly an
argument on the stairs. Still, it is surely the shipwreck that is the most
lacking, effects-wise, rather than the alien, which is at least striking (which
I always misremembered from childhood being like a green bubble-wrap sleeping
bag). It is the under-siege scenario with the atmosphere of creeping menace and
the Doctor and Neela running around solving things that we came for, and there
is plenty of that to enjoy.
You can
debate what the war between the Rutans and Sontarans would look like afterwards
for extra fun.
A somewhat Gothic TARDIS control
room introduced. Men in robes trying to summon forces they barely know for an
attempted power-grab in subterranean shrines continues the Gothic feel.
The Doctor versus a sparkler
effect.
Elisabeth Sladen’s slightly
tongue-in-cheek and knowing performance does much to keep things on the keel of
entertainment, despite regularly being relegated to Damssel In Distress.
Although the mash-up of genres and
tropes is what ‘Dr. Who’ excels at – TV-style historical recreation, Gothic horror,
science-fiction – this one is a little average. The ending is also both
underwhelming and alarming: the Doctor does a little play-acting and leads the
worshipers to fry themselves.
The
Hand of Fear
Director
~ Lennie Mayne
Writers
~ Bob Baker & Dave Martin
The one
with the creeping hand. And it doesn't top that moment.
How can
they tell the difference between a quarry and an alien planet (a nice in-joke)?
Episode
two is mostly filler (must make most of that nuclear plant or whatever: let's
run around!). Episode three ends on a quite unexpected cliffhanger, as far as
these things go.
Eldrad is
a villain with some substance, Judith Paris conveying the confusion, until
reincarnated as Stephen Thorne who just thunders around in pantomime mode.
And it's
true that this season already has a lot of mind-control and possession of
Sarah-Jane, so it's no wonder she left with a rather nice end note.
Enjoyable
enough if perhaps not reaching its potential.
The Deadly Assassin
Director
~ David Maloney
Writer
~ Robert Holmes
The one
with the truly nightmarish manifestation of The Master.
Tom Baker
gleefully mugging "I don't need a companion!" at the camera.
The other
Time Lords revealed as Elitest snobs and doddery old men. Holmes’ script deepens
and sets the Time Lord mythos in motion.
A whole
episode of that particular Seventies style "In A Nightmare!!"
scenario (bombed in a quarry! stumbling through faux-jungle! pursued by
semi-faceless hunter! almost crushed by a ... miniature train?). There is
something appealingly dated about this – ‘Sapphire and Steel’ mastered
the form and feeling.
The train
makes for one of the most wet blanket of cliffhangers whereas the Doctor being
drowned is the one that set apparently Mary Whitehouse all fiery and out to
destroy Dr Who (and arguably, with some success: opinions on a postcard).
And The
Master shrinking his victims always seemed uniquely horrible to me.
The Face Of Evil
Director
– Pennant Roberts
Writer
– Chris Boucher
The one
with Mount Doctor Baker.
Hello
Leela. One for the dads. Maybe, and even if Baker didn’t like her character
(probably thought he didn’t need a sidekick - and didn’t I read he even
suggested a cabbage as a companion?) she actually complements him well, however
unlikely this may seem. Louise Jameson’s plays dead straight and resourceful rather
than just savage-and-stupid.
Is Leela
the only woman in the tribe…?
There’s
substance to what looks like a dodgy tribe enactment being that way for good
pulpy sci-fi reasons as there is to The Doctor realising his do-gooding has
consequences that might lead to invisible monsters resembling a nod to ‘Forbidden
Planet’. This and a computer driven mad by The Doctor’s input, forcing him
to confront his hubris a little fun.
Some
decent facing-off-in-a-corridor work.
The
Doctor screaming at himself is quite memorable.
Special
effects by toys and some superior corridors. And there’s no avoiding that, even
as Seventies kids, we all knew those red eyes were made with bicycle
reflectors. But these are typical shortcomings for old ‘Who’ and doesn’t
distract at how memorable and great the robot designs are.
The robot
designs hint at pretences of elegance and plushness, but it is of course an
early warning against AI and the
influence of Asimov’s Law of Robotics always lurks in the background of such
things. Certainly, the robot’s uncanny valley unnerved me as a boy.
There is
also a little social commentary, the kind that vintage ‘Dr. Who’ has
always been good at, has always had in its DNA: the managerial crew of the
mining ship are just barely useful layabouts, letting the robots do the work.
There’s some nice set design by Kenneth Sharp that makes the ship resemble a plush
hotel rather than a workspace.
Talons of Weng-Chiang
Director
~ David Mahoney
Writer
~ Robert Holmes
For me,
Dr Who at its zenith. The mash-up of all that Victorian pulp creates a
delightful concoction: vaudeville, Sherlock Holmes, Fu-Manchu, opium dens, Jack
the Ripper, Eliza Doolittle, even a little Phantom of the Opera are all
namechecked. The giant rat is an unfortunately lacking effect (best to turn on
the new effects option) but Mr Sin remains creepy and arguably even
additionally disgusting when we know its origin.
Of
course, much of this is undone by use of yellowface for John Bennet as Li H'sen
Chang. Even so, Bennet gives Chang and almost regal dignity with a great, deluded
but sympathetic send-off. And there’s a flicker of knowingness when Chang makes
the retort that “I understand we all the look the same.” But there’s no getting
past the yellowface and of-the-period racism, or references to “midgets”, even
if it feels of-a-piece to penny dreadfuls and the Yellow Peril.
But
Robert Homes packs it full of great dialogue for everyone, for a six-parter
there’s no real padding and just when you think you have it pegged, there’s the
introduction of a great Jago and Lightfoot duo. Plenty of horrible detail
alluded to, assassins in laundry baskets, a bad guy defeated just by pulling out
the battery…
This has always been a favourite
since I was a kid, and even with its disqualifying ingredient – which isn’t
even incidental – there’s so much to enjoy. A quintessential Dr. Who romp. And
Mr. Sin is still unnerving.
