I don’t know if Robert asked Louis for a ‘Jekyll and Hyde meets Forbidden Planet’ storyline – but that’s what he got. I love it when there are other references in the programme.
Of course the villain of Evil was the actual planet itself. It was quite a clever plot, I think. Extremely forward thinking and ecological – man can’t just ride into town, plunder natural resources and suffer no consequences. The anti-matter creature was very futuristic as well. But I don’t think Philip was terribly impressed with it, actually. Maybe he had imagined something else. I remember watching it on television at the same time as everyone else – I thought it was fine.
One of the bonuses of filming at Ealing is the fact it’s a bona fide film studio. Everything is set up for the director to be at the heart of the action at floor level, not cooped up on an observation deck. I really enjoyed having Maloney up close and personal. It’s one thing having a First translate the director’s ideas, another seeing on his face exactly what he wants before he says it. In that respect Ealing really was just like being on location.
We also had to do some interesting recovery work at the studio. Roger’s vast jungle set was so lifelike and sprawling that Maloney struggled to get the mics anywhere near enough. In the end a lot of our lines on the planet’s surface had to be dubbed later. These days we do this all the time but it was a novelty then. If you don’t time it right, the result looks like a bad foreign film, with lips and words not synching.
Roger’s set might have caused Maloney problems but Terry Walsh couldn’t believe his luck. As soon as we’d finished at Ealing Terry ran round and gathered as many of the exotic plants and fauna as he could carry. That night he crept out into his garden and planted them all within view of the house. The following morning his wife pulled the curtains open – and screamed, ‘Terry, Terry, you’ll never believe what’s growing in the garden!’
Poor Terry lost his wife quite young. That’s when you find out who your friends are. I got a call one day from Jon Pertwee. ‘We must look after him. We’ll have to take him round the conventions with us,’ he said. It was a sweet thing to do. Jon could be very considerate like that.
* * *
As much as I enjoyed Planet of Evil, by the time we wrapped mid-July I was ready for a break. Seven serials in a row – that’s thirty-two episodes, one after the other – was a punishing schedule. Worse still, we had fourteen more episodes to film before the block was over. I pored over the calendar with Brian. If we were cute we could actually finagle a few days away. Of course the problem is, as soon as you start imagining these things they just snowball in your mind. I couldn’t wait.
First, I had another treat to look forward to. Tom and I were invited to lunch at the Garrick Club by the bosses of BBC Enterprises – the commercial arm of the Beeb. Lovely Terry Sampson was there, Lorne Martin and the head honcho himself, Peter Dimmock. Obviously it’s a pleasure to be taken to lunch anyway, but beforehand Tom and I gossiped about why we were being summoned.
‘Maybe they just want to thank us for being amazing,’ he suggested.
‘Do you think so?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
There always has to be a catch with the BBC – you just need to find out what it is.
We had a drink and a chit-chat before Terry broke the news.
‘We’d love you both to turn on this year’s Blackpool Illuminations.’
Crikey, I thought only famous people were invited to do that.’ But you are famous,’ they insisted. ‘And you’ll be even more famous once you’ve done this.’
Over the next few years we were followed by such luminaries as Terry Wogan, Kermit the Frog and Red Rum – which gives you an idea of how the Doctor and Sarah were viewed by the world at large.
Back at the Garrick, they really gave us the hard sell and I admit it was tempting (I’d already had a taste of what the Blackpool crowds could be like with Jon). Then I remembered Tangiers.
‘Look, I’m sorry, I’ve got to have a break. Tom doesn’t need me there – people only want to see the Doctor anyway.’
At this Peter Dimmock leapt straight in there. ‘Lis, we need you! Tom hasn’t really been established yet, you’re the one people know. You have to do it.’
Tom looked at me and said, ‘Well yes, I suppose that’s true. I’ve only been around five minutes. They love you, Elisabeth.’
I was flattered, certainly but was my ego more important than a few rare days away with my husband? Not even close.
‘Look, I’m sorry, I really am. But if I go to Blackpool I can’t take my break, and I really need it – I’m exhausted.’
Terry gave me his most diplomatic look. ‘Lis, I understand. Don’t make a decision now, talk it over with Brian – we’ll pay for him to go as well, obviously. Let us know tomorrow.’
‘Fine,’ I said. But my mind was already made up – I’d leave it twenty-four hours before giving them the bad news.
When I got home I was even more adamant that I’d soon be in Tangiers. Then the phone rang: it was Mum. She sounded like she’d won the pools.
‘Oh, Elisabeth,’ she gushed. ‘I’ve just had the most charming call from Terry Sampson. He has asked your dad and me to come down to Blackpool to watch you turn on the lights!’
‘Really?’
‘Oh yes, we can’t wait!’
I hung up, feeling thoroughly outmanoeuvred. Mum had never sounded happier. All I could think was, Sampson, you swine!
Chapter Ten
Over Here, Cloth-Eyes!
OF ALL the manipulative stunts! I could barely look at Terry Sampson after that. But he was as good as his word: Mum and Dad were picked up by limo and booked into one of Blackpool’s finest hotels. It was heart-warming to see them so thoroughly spoiled. I thought they were going to explode with pride when they saw the crowds calling out for me, too. Compared to this, my visit to the Exhibition’s opening with Jon had been a washout.
Being flat out in the middle of a consecutive second season, it was a real scramble to get ready. I didn’t have a minute to buy a new outfit. Fortunately I had the might of the BBC to help me out. Rowland Warne, the costume guy from Planet of the Spiders, really stepped up. He lent me this ornate antique shawl and a beautiful white lace dress that I absolutely adored. Afterwards he said I looked so stunning I should keep them, which was naughty but much appreciated. Later I altered the frock for Sadie to wear when she was playing the May Queen’s attendant – I put some ribbons around the sleeves to hike it up and trimmed it a bit. I’ve still got it.
Blackpool was actually a great experience. As well as my parents, Sampson had invited Ian Marter and David Maloney – I think Enterprises hoped he’d be able to keep us all in check. Brian came along as well, which gave it more of a holiday feel. He got on fabulously with Ian and Tom so it was a real party atmosphere, actually.
The plan was to have a big banquet with the Lord Mayor in the evening, spend the night in a hotel, then switch on the illuminations the next evening. Fine, I thought. I’m here now, I may as well enjoy it.
As we filed into the dining hall Tom said to me, ‘Lis, lucky you – you’re sitting next to the Mayor!’
Anyone else would think this was an honour. The way Tom had said it, though – I was waiting for the catch. I soon found it. The Mayor had just had an operation and for the whole duration of the meal I got a blow-by-blow account. Talk about putting you off your food! What made it worse was watching Tom up the other end of the table having the night of his life. If he dares to laugh at me, I swear I’ll throw my roll at his head! I thought.
Still, my problems weren’t as bad as Brian’s. They had him down as ‘Mr Sladen’ so the whole night he had to put up with people calling him by my surname. Luckily he’s got a grand sense of humour about these things.
When it came to the actual switching-on ceremony, it looked like all of Blackpool and the Northwest had turned out to watch the Doctor use his sonic screwdriver to illuminate the night. No pressure, then.
We got there and Tom said to Maloney, ‘OK, let’s have the screwdriver.’
And the look of horror on Maloney’s face – ‘Tom, I thought you had it!’
What a pair.
So Maloney whizzed back to the hotel and the rest of us stood up there, in full glare of the crowds, for what seemed like forever. I’ve no idea what we did to fill the time. When Maloney came panting back up the stairs I said, ‘Where have you been?’
Apparently he’d got stuck in the hotel lift on the way back, forgetting he was holding the sonic. After a few minutes this old couple said, ‘Well, are you going to use it or not?’
Eventually there was a countdown and Tom set the whole place ablaze. It was truly spectacular, he was such a hit with the masses. I don’t know what Terry, Lorne and Peter had been fussing about. The fans obviously loved him already.
Afterwards we all piled into Bessie for a tour along the promenade. If I’d thought it had been busy when Jon and I opened the exhibition, this was unbelievable. The crowds were ten deep, all yelling and waving their Doctor Who scarves and toys. Amazing! I just wish I’d had more than a shawl to keep me warm. Trying to smile and wave while you’re absolutely freezing takes some acting, I can tell you. And it seemed to go on forever because we were crawling along behind a giant orange – the size of half a house – that carried people. Bizarre to behold! Ian lent over and said, ‘Christ, Sladen, is this what it has come to, following a bloody orange along Blackpool promenade!’
Brian and I enjoyed a meal with Mum and Dad then the next day we all caught the train home. Travelling with the Enterprise boys in a first-class carriage was a bit of an eye-opener as to how the other half of the Beeb lived. Peter Dimmock said, ‘Tom, Lis – do you fancy a drink?’
What a daft question after such an exhausting couple of days.
Ten minutes later he returned from the bar with a couple of boxes under each arm. He’d bought every miniature on the train! That was a journey I won’t forget in a hurry – although the details are a little vague.
* * *
It was such a blast to have Ian with us in Blackpool and I was really happy to see his name down on the call sheets for the next serial, The Android Invasion, even though he’d be playing a ‘fake’ Harry for the second time running, so we wouldn’t get many fun scenes together. Two other names made important comebacks on this one as well. Terry Nation was writing a rare non-Dalek story, which people were really excited about. What I could barely contain myself about, however, was the return of Barry Letts as director. As soon as I heard he’d be in charge I knew Android would be one to savour.
Unusually for Who we filmed in summer. Costume girl Barbie Lane had me in a short-sleeved pink sailor suit for this one. Very cool, although I started the story with a hat and scarf! Poor Tom was stuck in his heavy suit, cravat, overcoat, hat and scarf. A less-fit man would have sweltered to death.
We began recording in late July at the National Radiological Protection Board in Harwell, Oxfordshire. All those lung-busting running and jumping shots around the Defence Station were done there. There’s an exciting scene with Tom leaping off the roof. Terry Walsh has to take credit for that one, as usual, but Barry cut it so brilliantly it’s breath-taking to watch. And when Tom is confronted by an android with a gun built into his hand, he says the immortal line: ‘Is that finger loaded?’ so perfectly he might have been auditioning for Roger Moore’s part in James Bond. Then it was off to Tubney Woods in Oxfordshire for a couple of days to capture those thrilling open-air chases. I remember Tom having to hoist me into a tree. It was like I wasn’t even there; he whooshed me over his shoulder then threw me up so effortlessly. And to think Barry had cast Ian to handle all the Doctor’s physical work.
We had a lot of fun in Tubney. The opening scene from Episode 1 cracks me up – it’s another example of Tom and me really enjoying ourselves. He was sensational. When the Doctor chooses a route via the scientific process of ‘Eeeny Meeny’ he looks directly at the camera on ‘Meeny’, which sends a shiver down the spine of every viewer. I don’t know if that was Barry’s or Tom’s idea but it really works.
Once we start exploring, the Doctor says, ‘Mind the bramble.’ A second later Sarah says, ‘Ow!’ Very drily, from off-camera, you hear Tom say, ‘I said mind the bramble.’ It’s a short but tender scene, which accentuates their comfortable relationship. A second later, though, and it’s a genuine effort not to stop the whole production. I’m mid-sentence when Tom releases a branch which thwacks me in the kipper. Instinctively I burst out laughing – but then continued with the line. That branch would have to knock me out for Barry to stop shooting, I thought. And I was right – we didn’t reshoot and it’s still there to this day.
If you’ve never tried it, I can tell you pretending to be an android version of yourself is always fun. Obviously you must convey a difference because you’re playing a machine, but you still have to act like your character so as not to arouse suspicion. It was quite nice to find a level that I thought was working – and then have to fall over and be discovered. Barry was very good then, just letting me get on with my own ideas and only commenting if he disagreed.
Despite the nice weather I still felt worn down in this one. There was one shot where Barry wanted us to walk away from the camera across a cornfield – they were just filming our backs, it was a long shot. From the distance we heard a shout and Tom said, ‘I think that was a “cut”.’
‘No, I didn’t hear anything,’ I said.
So we just kept walking! It was a scorching day and eventually we ended up in the village and squeezed in a cream tea before anyone found us!
When I started doing The Sarah Jane Adventures I had a letter from the woman at the Post Office. She said, ‘Oh, you and Tom came in to hide and said, “Oh, they won’t find us in here!” I’ve still got the photo you signed and I tell my grandchildren, “I met Sarah Jane”.’
It was really magical working with Barry again, but also Ian. I had no idea this would be his last hurrah. It was never set out so formally although that’s how it turned out.
Nick Courtney was too busy to take part but John Levene, one of the other regular UNIT boys, was available. I loved working with John. He was so sweet and he really made me laugh – not always intentionally. He’d drop things and he’d dry up in a scene, never a dull moment. Tom used to joke that if John’s character Sergeant Benton saluted he’d poke himself in the eye. If he had a bayonet rifle, he’d stab himself in the foot.
Come Androids, of course, and John not only had to play himself and an android version of Benton – he also had to shoot the Doctor. Barry was so relaxed about this scene it quite threw John.
‘There’s no dialogue, just say what comes naturally,’ Barry said.
This absolutely froze John into total traction. Ad-libbing? That was for other people, not him. So he came over to me and said, ‘Lis, what am I going to do?’
‘Just say whatever you feel, I don’t want to put words into your mouth,’ I told him.
‘OK, OK,’ he said. ‘I’ve got it.’
So we began rehearsal then went for action. As per the script, Tom got shot. John looked at his gun and said, ‘Shit, I’ve shot the Doctor!’
* * *
By the time we finished Android at the end of August, summer was well and truly upon us. Unfortunately my chances of a holiday were as remote as ever. Pre-production was already underway on the next serial and before I knew it I was standing in the Acton Hilton, script in hand, working through the latest twist in Sarah’s journey. Yet again, though, I found myself thinking, How much more is there for this character to do?
Added to my irritation with the relentless schedule was my increasing feeling that Who and I were about to part company. For now, though, I was enjoying scripts for The Brain of Morbius.
Like Pyramids, Morbius ended up going out under a pseudonym. Having done all the legwork, Terry Dicks was sufficiently offended by Robert Holmes’ rewrites to ask for his na
me to be taken off the credits.
‘Give it some sort of bland pseudonym,’ Terry huffed.
Which is how Morbius came to be ‘written’ by ‘Robin Bland’.
Despite the feel of a big-budget Hammer Horror, Morbius was actually one of our belt-tightening exercises. The whole thing was shot in Television Centre – no locations, no puppet shoots. After the verdant feel of Android, the studio mountains of Karn seemed a little sterile, I admit, but I think Barry had used up all the budget!
At least I could get home at the end of each day – you need your own bed to recharge the batteries sometimes. On filming days it was different. After the pressure of a camera day, it was a relief to knock off at ten o’clock and head straight for the studio bar. You could really let your hair down in there safe in the knowledge only BBC people were around. Sometimes, on special occasions, we’d make for the Balzac Bistro on Shepherd’s Bush Green for a meal. It wasn’t particularly far to walk but we only seemed to venture thus far for birthdays and celebrations. The priority was always to find the nearest watering hole and pitch our tent there.
There’s more than a hint of Frankenstein in The Brain of Morbius. Mad scientist Solon is trying to rebuild Morbius, an evil Time Lord, but he’s short on parts. So far he’s just got a brain in a jar and a body somewhere between a man and a crab. Then Tom and I stroll along and all his Christmases come at once.
Chris Barry, the ‘Mad Monk’, was in charge of this one. He was very professional, extremely precise and – how can I put it? – mercurial, too. Whatever mood Chris was in when he arrived at rehearsal, that was the mood you got directed in. I remember he was very excited about working with Philip Madoc, who was playing Solon. I got the impression from Chris that he was working with a proper actor for a change. Charming!
I see Philip now and he’s a jovial man. I wish I’d known it at the time. On Morbius he was deadly serious, every detail had to be explored. Ad-libbing, fooling around or any of those flippant drama exercises seemed beneath him. And, I have to be honest: Chris seemed to love him for it. Hello, Chris, you’re directing Doctor Who, not Professor Solon, I thought.
Elisabeth Sladen: The Autobiography Page 22