Elisabeth Sladen: The Autobiography

by Sladen, Elisabeth

  I’d almost forgotten the shadow Philip cast on recording until we came to do the DVD commentary. Chris and Philip were asked if they spent a lot of time rehearsing Solon’s scene with the monster.

  ‘No time at all – the whole thing was done very quickly.’ They both agreed on that.

  I nearly spat my coffee out. As far as I’m concerned they rehearsed that scene over and over; they were on it for hours. We’ll never get home at this rate, I remember thinking.

  John Scott Martin was also in this one (buried under the monster costume), as was Stuart Fell, so it was nice to have them around. Condo, the gormless servant, was played by an old Liverpool lad called Colin Fay. His character was a direct lift from those old horror films with the sinister servant ‘Igor’. Any gap in the schedule and we’d be regaling each other with stories of the home country. That fun carried over into rehearsals. When we first arrive at Solon’s castle it’s raining. We knock on the door and this Lurch figure greets us. Now, just before the cameras were about to roll, Tom said, ‘Do you know, Lis – when he opens the door we could be doing a tap dance like Singin’ in the Rain.’ You can imagine his face, animated and big-eyed at the idea.

  ‘I think that might be a bit much, Tom,’ I told him.

  How I wish we’d done it. Perhaps it would have made Chris notice us for a change.

  One person in particular needed no help in noticing us: Mary Whitehouse. If she had gone ballistic at Genesis, she went positively nuclear when Morbius was broadcast. And the offending scene? Funnily enough, it was the sight of Morbius’s brain in a bell jar.

  I shouldn’t be too critical of her. Actually I remember Philip Hinchcliffe agonising over whether we should show that shot. To this day he still isn’t sure if he should have put it in or not. Maybe it was a tad gruesome for a tea-time audience and yet, considering almost every episode has the destruction of the human or some other race at its heart, one piece of anatomy does seem rather tame to cause so much fuss.

  * * *

  After what was largely a cost-cutting exercise on Morbius, the series finale for Season Thirteen looked set to pull out all the stops. We would go out with a bang on Hand of Fear.

  Or so we thought.

  It was pretty late in the day when Philip and Robert decided the scripts were not in the right state for filming and an emergency replacement called The Seeds of Doom was hurriedly commissioned instead. It was a big gamble. In fact we were halfway through Morbius before the scripts began to trickle in. At least they were by Robert Banks Stewart – you knew it would be a good show with his name at the top of the page. Not only had his Terror of the Zygons been one of the better stories but he also had a pedigree, having worked on The Sweeney, Callan and various other successful series. He would later create Shoestring and Bergerac. Even more importantly, picking up the directorial gauntlet was one of my favourites, dear old Dougie Camfield. If anyone could make this rush job work, it was him.

  Plotwise, an expedition in Antarctica discovers two alien pods. One takes over the base before it’s destroyed. The other is taken back to England by a Bond-style villain, Harrison Chase, to add to his ‘green cathedral’ – a private collection of flora. There it converts a character called Keeler into a Krynoid (an alien plant creature), which grows to twice the size of a stately home.

  This was a great one to film although very exhausting. There was lots of running, an unprecedented amount of shoots spilling over time and more location work than ever, even for a six-parter. In a first, as far as I know, we were allowed to have a few rehearsal days at the Acton Hilton before our initial outdoor shoot. With the later scripts arriving barely half a week before we started, it seemed the only way Dougie was going to make sense of anything.

  On the plus side, at least we for once filmed in some picturesque settings. It wasn’t exactly the South Pole, but luxurious private gardens in Dorset in November have their charm. Athelhampton House was owned by a Tory MP, Robert Cooke: apparently when the house is destroyed at the end of the programme he received letters of consolation from friends. He must have been used to it by then. The same house was demolished by a giant Dougal in The Goodies’ 1975 Christmas Special.

  We headed down to Athelhampton for filming in late October. I really think that early run-through paid dividends. The cast had only been in place a week or so and bearing in mind the Dorset shots don’t really come into play until Episode 3, we all needed to get to grips with our characters. The results speak for themselves. We certainly managed to bring areas of the script to life. For example, there’s a tense scene where Tom and I are captured and Tom flipped the usual villain-speak on its head: ‘Get our hands up!’ he yelled. ‘That’s right, grab us – we’re very dangerous!’

  After the response we got in Blackpool, I think Tom had a clearer sense of his audience and what they expected of him. I remember going through the same thing. You just have that moment of clarity where you realise, I know this character better than this week’s rent-a-writer or director-for-hire. I’m the one who plays him or her all the time. There’s a little nod to Tom’s character in Episode 1 when the Doctor says he can leave immediately for the South Pole because he has his toothbrush – Tom was quite famous on set for carrying his toothbrush around with him. As an actor, you never know where you’re going to end up sleeping at night!

  We had some memorable scenes together. Being lowered down a wall was fun. Darting around the undergrowth is always exciting, and, of course, being confronted by the Krynoid in darkness was breathtaking. Recording so late in the year, darkness fell by 4.30 p.m. so we managed to film all the night scenes during ‘day shoots’. Still, dark is dark – it doesn’t matter what time it is!

  Seeds of Doom was such a great story and I think it got the quality of actors it merited. Tony Beckley, who played the villain Harrison Chase, was so prim and perfect, not to mention sinister with his black gloves and smart suits. You could tell Robert Banks Stewart had written for The Avengers – Chase was just the sort of megalo-maniacal millionaire that Steed used to come up against all the time. (Tony has been in so many things but I think most people will remember him as Camp Freddie in The Italian Job.)

  John Challis is another household face, if not name. There’ll be barely a person in England who doesn’t know him as Boycie from Only Fools and Horses. To this day, if Tom Baker and I see him around town or at the BBC, we still say, ‘Hello, Scorbes!’ after his character, Scorby. John was really good in it, and so convincing as a hitman. There was a great scene in the laboratory where everything gets blown up and glass shatters everywhere. Scorbes and I are on the floor for most of it and we had a whale of a time. There’s not much you can do when you’ve got things exploding all around you, so we simply had to cower and react a bit. That was a fun scene to do, though, especially because John is such a giggler. Nothing like his Fools and Horses character, you’ll be pleased to hear!

  You tend to flag by the end of a week away from home. Not this time. When we piled back to London for studio rehearsals there was such a bubbly atmosphere on the coach you’d have thought we were just setting off. Acton rehearsals seemed particularly inspiring as well, and Tom and I came up with a few nice line adds that pepped things up a bit. When Tom is told, at gunpoint, to turn around, I don’t think anyone expected him to do a full 360-degree pirouette. How John kept a straight face in recording, I don’t know. Sometimes just knowing when to leave lines out keeps a scene on the rails. There are quite a few lines that you can convey in a gesture or a look. When you live and breathe the character, you don’t always need words.

  Introducing us all to Chase, Tom decided unilaterally that Sarah was ‘my best friend’ – completely unexpected, but it gave the scene a jab of emotion. During our escape from the killer chauffeur I adlibbed, ‘Over here, cloth-eyes!’ It seemed a very ‘Sarah’ thing to say. Another example is a scene at the Antarctic base, where the script said I had to walk along the corridor and close the external door (after the Krynoid’s escape, alt
hough we didn’t know that yet). Well, that’s going to be the most boring scene ever, isn’t it? I thought.

  So I said, ‘Dougie, what if Sarah’s carrying something? Then at least I can shove it shut with my bum?’

  ‘That’s my girl!’ he laughed.

  So that’s what we did. It’s not brilliant, nobody really notices, but it adds a splash of colour to the script.

  As it was a six-parter, there were three studio blocks and three pairs of filming days. Pretty standard stuff, although this was squeezed a bit because we had to pay back the rehearsal time from the start of production. You’d be amazed at how much these programmes are decided by balance sheet rather than plot.

  It was budget, of course, that kept a limit on the number of retakes, although when you’re working with snow machines, you have to expect the odd hitch. One scene had to be redone when there wasn’t enough snow for the so-called ‘blizzard’. Another was stopped when we were literally deluged in the stuff. These things happen. I remember opening a door at Chase’s house when we were being attacked by the Krynoid – a giant plant monster that won’t stop growing – and the trees that were meant to be blocking my exit were nowhere to be seen. ‘OK, let’s try that again …’

  As I said, these things happen, but I was really proud when someone told me that I’d made the fewest mistakes of anyone on the entire shoot! I think they only had to stop once for something that was my fault. I don’t know who was keeping tally of these things or why – maybe it would come out of your fee if you caused too much trouble? That’s a scary thought. Of course, it would have been two stops if we’d noticed at the time how I attacked the Krynoid’s tendril with an axe – hitting it with the blunt side!

  Rather unusually, Dougie had arranged a further location shoot to take place during the studio block, but we had to squeeze it into a weekend. So, on Saturday, 6 December, we boarded the bus and headed out for deepest Antarctica – or Reigate, as it actually was. There was a really great atmosphere on the coach – it was extremely jolly, like an old-fashioned charabanc day out. I happened to be sitting next to Tom and as it neared five o’clock, I pointed out this would be the first episode of Doctor Who I’d appeared in that I wouldn’t see broadcast. How would I be able to discuss it afterwards with Dad?

  ‘Hmm,’ said Tom. ‘That’s a shame, isn’t it?’ The glint in his eye told me he was already hatching something.

  ‘You know, Elisabeth,’ he said as we drove down one Surrey street, ‘we could probably knock on any of these houses and ask to watch their television.’

  I laughed. He was probably right, but I didn’t expect him to try and prove it.

  Suddenly he leapt up and staggered down the aisle towards the driver. The next thing I knew, the coach had pulled over and half a dozen of us were marching up to a random front door.

  ‘Are you sure about this, Tom?’ I giggled.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said, his face alive with mischief.

  Then he rang the bell and we waited. To this day I will never forget the look on the woman’s face who answered.

  ‘Hello, my dear,’ said Tom in his most charming voice, ‘I’m the Doctor and this is Sarah. We wondered if we might be able to watch ourselves on your television tonight?’

  ‘Oh, come in, Doctor!’

  And so we did. Me, Tom, John and a couple of others squeezed into a complete stranger’s living room and enjoyed the third episode of The Android Invasion. Absolutely hysterical then and mind-boggling now – wonderful, wonderful Tom!

  * * *

  We were in Surrey to film the Antarctic scenes in – you guessed it – a quarry. The owners were very excited to have us there. They had all their sand pushed up into realistic snow formations by the time we arrived and had even applied the snow effect over the top.

  I don’t think it’s ever explained why we hadn’t originally flown to the South Pole in the TARDIS, but that’s where we end up by the serial’s final scene. I don’t know if the TARDIS was offended we hadn’t used her, but we went inside, closed the door – and the bloody roof fell down! Lucky I’m so much shorter than Tom – I think he caught the brunt of it. It gave me a shock, though. Funnily enough, it was only on Android that the Doctor had said she was due her 300-year service.

  The odd time machine malfunction aside I can honestly report that the whole Seeds of Doom experience was a joy from start to finish. It sounds like nostalgia but it’s true. If I genuinely had a TARDIS, I don’t think I would have changed a thing. I really did have a simply marvellous time.

  So why did I find myself knocking on Philip’s door and saying, ‘I’m sorry, Philip, but I’ve had enough. It’s time for me to go’?

  Chapter Eleven

  Eldrad Must Live!

  WORK THIS one out. I’d never been happier on Doctor Who – Tom was amazing, the show was reaching audience heights not enjoyed since the 60s; there was a real buzz about it, people were even recognising me on the street …

  But it was time to go.

  Mentally I’d opened the door back on Dartmoor on The Sontaran Experiment. After that it was only ever a case of when I would walk through it.

  Of course, it was exactly because we were doing so well that the decision was so easy. What’s that old comedians’ mantra? Leave ’em wanting more.

  The Seeds of Doom had seen the last appearance of UNIT – at least in the 70s. That was a conscious decision. Robert Holmes and Philip Hinchcliffe had been keen to phase out a lot of the older ties – Nick Courtney, John Levene and even Ian Marter had all been given the chop. There was even talk of a TARDIS redesign after it had collapsed on us in Surrey. That only left one remaining link with the past.

  In any walk of life you want to jump before you’re pushed. There was no hint from Philip that he was thinking along these lines but I thought it was only a matter of time: He’s the new boss, he wants to stamp his mark. And the moment I broke the news to him my suspicions were confirmed.

  Yes, Philip looked surprised, shocked even. Then he said, ‘OK, Lis, if that’s what you want.’

  The moment the words left his lips I knew I’d been right. If Philip had begged me to stay, maybe I could have been persuaded. But he hadn’t and that told me everything I needed to know. I’ve actually helped you out by saying it first, haven’t I? I thought. Maybe he didn’t want to be the person who killed Sarah Jane.

  Actually, there was talk of killing her off but I didn’t want that – I don’t think it’s fair on kids who’ve grown up with a character to see her die. It’s bad enough seeing the Doctor disappear every few years, but at least he regenerates. Even worse, though, I really didn’t want to see Sarah married off; that would have undone all the ‘strong woman’ messages we’d delivered over the years. I don’t think it would have been respectful to Barry Letts’ legacy, either.

  Rushing into a hasty exit during Seeds of Doom would have been equally disrespectful, however.

  ‘Stay for a little while and we’ll give you a proper send-off,’ Philip suggested.

  That sounded fair. And in any case, rumour had it the next serial might even be shot in Italy.

  * * *

  On 19 March 1976 I signed up for eight more episodes of Doctor Who. Eight more! Then I was off. Tom was the perfect pro. He’s an actor, he knows the score. It’s not like other jobs – people come and go all the time. Even so, ‘I’ll miss you, Elisabeth,’ he boomed, and we had a hug. Then it was down to business as usual.

  Actually, that’s not strictly true. The more Tom thought about it, the less happy he got. The next day he said, ‘Christ, why have you got to leave? They’ll get me some bloody girl with a stupid name like Jasemine or Jessonquin, something I can’t pronounce!’ (In the end, despite Tom campaigning for no new companion, ‘because no one could replace Sarah’, they brought in Louise Jameson as Leela.)

  I don’t know if the BBC were trying to squeeze in as much as they could before I left, but before we began filming on the new series a couple of other jobs were passed our
way. At the end of April we found ourselves in a BBC radio studio as the Doctor and Sarah contributing to an episode of the schools programme Exploration Earth called The Time Machine. Who better, I suppose, to talk about that? More excitingly, we also recorded a record – an actual LP! It was called Doctor Who and the Pescatons and I suppose it was the precursor of the audio books and those ‘Big Finish’ plays. Although the novels had always been popular, we had no idea back then how big a business that side of things would become. Still, it’s nice to be in at the beginning.

  Then it was finally time to start the day job.

  It was Philip’s idea to set the new serial in Renaissance Italy, Robert’s idea to commission an expert on the subject (Louis Marks) and director Rodney Bennett’s idea to film the whole thing on location in Tuscany. Guess which one of those three didn’t get their way?

  Obviously if you can’t get the rolling Tuscan hills, the next best thing is Wales – specifically, Portmeirion. Actually, this wasn’t so random a choice as it could have been: it was already famous as the setting for The Prisoner. It’s a vast estate of Mediterranean-style buildings designed by Sir Bertram Clough Williams-Ellis, so perfect for capturing a hint of Italy. We actually shot in a different part of town to Patrick McGoohan’s lot (The Prisoner looked extremely barren by comparison). Our location was meant to look very verdant and lush, rich and Italian. And it did, it really did.

  There’s a lot to be said for living in a mock Italian village, too. I was given a charming room in the hotel, full of character, and as soon as we arrived we had tea and cakes. It was really beautiful and so welcoming. There were lots of outbuildings on site as well, where people could stay. We were there for four nights and I think we had parties on every one.