Running Through Corridors: Rob and Toby's Marathon Watch of Doctor Who (Volume 1: The 60s)

by Robert Shearman

  The Savages episode one

  R: Raymond Jones’ incidental music is fascinating, at one moment sounding like it’s aping the classical, with soaring violins giving a strange dignity to the proceedings – then suddenly becoming off key and dissonant and harsh. It sums up the mood of this episode very well, which at first feels like a real throwback to what we’ve seen before; even Dodo’s assertion that the TARDIS has brought them to the Iron Age echoes the setting of the very first adventure. And there remains a peculiar off key sense to the drama, filled as it is with tons of exposition offered very freely and amiably by quite the most welcoming people the Doctor has ever met on his travels (the council-leader Jano in particular, having charted the Doctor’s adventures, comes across a little like a leading member of the Doctor Who Appreciation Society), and yet sporadically spotted with dispassionate demonstrations of pleading savages undergoing medical operations. You long for the Doctor and company to get involved in the action, and I stifled a cheer when Dodo (of all people) becomes suspicious and inquisitive and goes off to look for a bit of drama rather than a guided tour. It’s at once the most didactic episode we’ve yet seen – it’s extraordinary just how much of this comes across as prose narrative – and whilst that doesn’t make for the most dramatic of episodes, its very oddness, like Jones’ music, does give a sense of unease. It’s Doctor Who, yes. But it’s not quite as we’re used to it.

  I’m not necessarily saying that’s a good thing, or even a deliberate thing, but it is at least interesting. None of our regular characters seem to be quite right. Hartnell seems a mite confused by a Doctor who’s written as someone blander than he’s used to. Dodo picks a fight with Steven early on because she thinks he’s the Doctor’s lapdog who’ll never do anything for himself – which is so far removed from the way Steven has been written in every single other story since he was introduced. And, against the odds, Dodo has a backbone.

  Now, of course, there’s a new producer on board in the form of Innes Lloyd, and Ian Stuart Black is here introduced as a new writer – and neither of them yet seem fully conversant with the style of the series. (It’s only a few weeks before this team have a computer talking openly about how it requires some bloke or other called “Dr Who”, of all things.) It’s as if all either of them have ever seen of the programme was some movie in the cinema, in which the lead was some slightly two-dimensional old duffer who had an interrogative as a surname. But, peculiarly enough, all this dissonance, this feeling that the programme just isn’t quite right, only makes this episode feel all the more fresh and skewed. This strange talky thing ought to be tedious, but it’s like a bridge between the old and established (Hartnell hanging on by his fingernails) and the completely new (everybody knowing who the Doctor is, and lots of action set in a quarry).

  T: Hmm... one of the disadvantages of “going second” in this guide book, Rob, is that there’s the rare occasion when you brilliantly say everything that needs to be said, leaving me with nothing to follow with! I don’t have much to add here beyond the fact that you’re right... this is an odd episode, but I think the oddness works in its favour. Despite the slow pace and innocent naivety on display here, a couple of ingredients make it curiously palatable. As you’ve already mentioned, the most striking element is the music – the use of strings is inspired; they can be at turns spooky and poignant, and (when the tempo is upped) add drama to the chase scenes. This is quite possibly the most effective and versatile score we’ve yet heard in the series – it’s unsettling and beautiful, all at the same time.

  And the other key component that lends a sense of strangeness is the location filming. We no longer have the video of this story – so in truth I’m doing some guesswork here – but the telesnaps, for instance, suggest a great use of high angles in the Exorse/Nanina chase. It’s a cliché to say that Doctor Who does all its location filming in quarries, but here the quarry (again, as far as I can tell) is used very convincingly, and makes it look like the Doctor and his friends have indeed arrived at a stunning, sun-drenched alien vista.

  So far, this story is unfolding at a leisurely pace, but I’m diverted enough. You’re right to say that it’s not quite like Doctor Who as we’ve come to know it, though, and hopefully the next episodes will help us determine why.

  March 2nd

  The Savages episode two

  R: If I thought Hartnell was at a bit at sea last week, here he finds a whole heap of righteous anger, and seizes it for all he’s worth. His fury against Captain Edal, and his assertion that all human life is precious, feels now like a mission statement for the series – and the caveman trappings of the story only serve to emphasise just how far we’ve come with his character since those early days of selfishness and amorality. It’s really rather a political script, this; it may seem none too subtle to modern eyes, with its tale of how the ruling elite come to subjugate and exploit the poor and less educated, but it’s so refreshing to see it tackled head on. It’s not a million miles away, of course, from the tale of the Guardians suppressing the Monoids we saw a few weeks ago – but this time the gloves are off, and the programme isn’t hiding behind the metaphor of mute monsters wearing ping pong balls in their mouths; these are real people being tortured. And if the Daleks couldn’t get on with the Thals, or the Drahvins with the Rills, they could always point at the aliens they hated and mention they were unlike themselves – when Jano and Edal do the same, and the only thing we can see different is that these animals they’re tyrannising have scraggy beards and don’t wear smart uniforms, then the effect is highly ironic. It makes these Elders, who claim to be so wise and sophisticated, look instead deeply stupid – for all of their technology, they can’t see they’re victimising their own kind.

  And another cliché is introduced here, before it actually becomes a cliché – the amoral scientists so cheerfully flapping about their laboratories (the bubbling vats sound terrific!) that they’ve utterly shut themselves off from the implications of their work. The closest we’ve come to this before is in The Space Museum, where the Doctor got frozen for an episode – but that was nothing to the long cliffhanger here. The scientist Senta is so positively cheered by his wonderful success draining the Doctor’s life force that the episode ends upon a note of excited triumph – one that’s all the more sick for its affability. Senta isn’t crowing over his success like a villain, because he doesn’t see himself as a villain – he’s a well-spoken hard working scientist who’s just satisfied with a job well done. That’s what makes him so much more horrifying; an ordinary man who’s simply no conception that what he’s doing is evil.

  T: I’m trying to get an angle on this story – whereas I previously thought the quarry-filming was effectively used to convey an alien locale, we now seem to have moved into a slightly un-Doctor Whoey, cheesy yet dully sincere attempt to portray “the future”. To look at the pictures of Hartnell in his space costume, and the overall appearance of Jano and the Elders, I’m reminded of some of the futuristic episodes of Out of the Unknown, and it just doesn’t feel quite right.

  Hartnell is once again in full command, though – he rattles off his lines without stumbling, and bristles with authority and indignation when standing up to Captain Edal. He’s doing what the Doctor does best – advocating for the weak and defenceless – and the oft-quoted “protracted murder” scene is the defining one of this serial. It’s a joy to see Hartnell and Frederick Jaeger (as Jano) reward the solid writing with performances to match. In fact, it’s a good episode all around for the regulars – Dodo is remarkably feisty when she wanders into the laboratory, and her stroppy side is brought out with brio by Jackie Lane. It’s telling though, that Steven gets the line “not even Dodo would be that stupid...”! Even the series itself seems to be admitting that she’d probably be out in the first round of Companion Academy.

  I’m not quite sure why the guys in the lab mistake Dodo for a savage though. Didn’t her lack of animal skins suggest otherwise?

  The Savages epis
ode three

  R: When Frederick Jaeger finally emerges from the experiment, clutches his lapels and says “hmm” a lot, you get the feeling that at last the punchline has been delivered to a joke that’s had two and a half episodes’ set up. It’s a lovely, clever idea to give another character the Doctor’s life force, and to see the first Doctor performed by another actor... but it doesn’t actually work. Jaeger never sounds comfortable doing the imitation, and the best he can make out of it is a high-pitched caricature.

  And thank God for that, because I think we’ve just dodged a bullet. We know that the production team are now actively considering ways that the series can survive Hartnell’s departure. Now, imagine if Jaeger had been a mite more impressive in the role. It might have convinced Innes Lloyd that, really, anyone could have a bash at the Doctor just by putting in all the same tics and mannerisms that the audience are already used to. And it would have meant that, in only a few months’ time, they might have approached the new incarnation much more conservatively. The show survives the transition to Troughton precisely because it doesn’t play safe – it doesn’t do a Cushing from the movies, or a Jaeger from The Savages, and instead looks for the contrasts rather than the similarities between the two Doctors. Jaeger’s failure here may mean that The Savages suffers, but Doctor Who as a whole benefits hugely. Senta’s tinkering in the laboratory really wasn’t the only experiment going on this week.

  In The Space Museum (again), Hartnell sat out an episode, and the cliffhanger was simply Ian reacting with shock to an as-yet unseen Doctor. What makes the drama here work so much better is that this isn’t just an excuse to give Hartnell a holiday. He’s here in person, but dumb and weak – just one episode after he gave his fabulous tirade against the evils of the Elders, we’ve never seen him so feeble. What’s effective is that we really see the consequences of Senta’s life-draining device, and there’s nothing in the episode more shocking than hearing Hartnell manage no more at the episode’s end than groans and heavy breathing. And, once again, the production team’s experiment has failed – they’ve not even given him a single line this week, but still the most impressive thing about this episode is William Hartnell.

  T: Well, Rob, that’s a wonderfully thought out and argued hypothesis, but – as your friend – I have to say that it looks like you’re attempting to fulfill on your word count by spouting a load of old nonsense. You seriously think that this was a trial run on the production team’s part, to see if they could replace the leading man with a ringer? I’d argue, then, that you’re giving them a bit too much credit – it’s hard to swear that they’re even watching the show, let alone that they’re thinking about what’s happening all that closely.

  Thanks though, for giving me something to argue with – it helps me to fill a paragraph about one of the most unremarkable episodes the programme has ever given us. Who knows, the visuals of this story may have been incredible, but I doubt it; Christopher Barry is a good and efficient director, but he doesn’t worry about pretty pictures. And without the benefit of moving images, I can only clutch at straws for commentary – from the telesnaps, it seems that Ewen Solon (playing the primitive Chal) has great make-up, and the set for the planet exterior looks pretty well realised. And I’m now getting seriously vexed on William Hartnell’s behalf – he’s not out on holiday here, he’s made to hang around all week so he can lie down and be a bit doddery at the end. He’s been treated pretty shoddily for about the past six months (except by Donald Cotton, actually).

  But hang on a minute... it’s just hit me. This is an adventure where a rather dull and pious future society is revealed to be not-so idyllic, and where our series regulars must teach them the error of their ways by bringing our morality to their world, thus leaving it an equally dull (but more just) place. Meanwhile, a guest star gets to flex different acting muscles, and consequently has a bit of fun. Yes, that’s it! I know why this story seemed so odd in Doctor Who terms! It’s because I’m watching bloody Star Trek!

  March 3rd

  R: Oh, come on. You don’t think that’s what the production team are doing here – that it’s a deliberate (and frankly very unpleasant) process in which they’re trying any means possible to get the programme working without Hartnell? You say yourself he’s been badly treated; it feels that every other story we’ve been watching recently tries either to give him as little air time as possible, or makes him literally invisible! So, yeah, I really do believe that had Frederick Jaeger done some lovely comic stint, clutching his lapels and saying “hmm” a lot, that in a week’s time we’d be analysing in our diaries some replacement actor getting up from the floor of the TARDIS doing nothing more than a Hartnell impersonation. Except we wouldn’t be analysing it at all, because Doctor Who would have ground to a halt long ago, and so we probably wouldn’t be doing these diaries in the first place.

  It makes me very grumpy (though not, I think, as grumpy as you). I know that at the moment, Russell T Davies is working hard to ensure that David Tennant gets the biggest and most triumphant exit a Doctor could wish for. But the 1966 production team are doing the opposite to Hartnell, so that when he finally shuffles off to the unemployment office, the viewers at home may not even notice. It’s shameful.

  But I’m glad to see the spirit of Hartnell still exists, even if it’s only in Toby Hadoke getting peevish when things are going wrong around him, and lashing out at his companion. Admit it, I’m not the source of your irritation at all. It’s The bloody Savages! Don’t worry. It’s coming to an end now.

  The Savages episode four

  What I love about this ending is how unequivocally triumphant it is. As with so much of The Savages, all the standing about at the end and thanking the Doctor is something we’re going to get used to terribly quickly. (And it’s amusing to consider that just as it starts becoming familiar, Ian Stuart Black subverts it again in time for The Macra Terror!) But it’s very rarely happened before. Under Verity Lambert, the regulars either wanted to nip back to the TARDIS and escape, having done nothing more decisive to the status quo than having survived it, or at least stood apart from the other characters in the story sufficiently that a hearty handshake from them at the end would have seemed a bit inappropriate. When you do get something of that nature – say, in The Daleks or The Keys of Marinus – it’s more a parting from people with whom the Doctor has shared an adventure, not saved them himself per se. And under John Wiles, of course, the story conclusions became more about the Doctor looking depressed and working out how great the body count was.

  So the build up to a climax here feels actually very redemptive. In the joyous scene where the laboratory is smashed up, the Doctor talks about the satisfaction of destroying something which is evil. And he’s absolutely right – although the story very deliberately tried to sideline William Hartnell, it was a celebration nonetheless of the Doctor, the way his conscience infected Jano, and the way his humanist ideals have given a society a new way to live. In light of that, and how in context the optimism of the ending and the forefronting of the TARDIS crew seems so fresh, it feels absolutely right that this should be the moment that Steven departs to take on new challenges. Yes, it’s abrupt – but it’s beautifully abrupt; for the very first time, Steven is part of an adventure where at the story’s end all the characters have a respect and a need for him. The Doctor says he’s very proud of him – and, sentimental old git that I am, I feel rather proud of him too. Peter Purves has worked so very hard on the character, taking all the things that made him at first somewhat unlikeable and turning those bouts of impatience and stubbornness into things which have made Steven wholly credible. He’s never given a bad performance.

  T: I hope you’ll cut me a bit of slack, Rob... it’s now Day Three Without Cigarettes. I think I’m allowed to be grumpy.

  Listening to Peter Purves’ final episode makes me remember a time long ago when I got the Radio Times 20th Anniversary Special, and saw a picture of him in the chapter about companions. “That’s
Peter Purves from Blue Peter,” I thought, “was he a companion on Doctor Who?” At the time, the Target novels were my only source of Who knowledge, so I’d never heard of Steven Taylor at all, let alone had any idea who played him. So I’ve always thought of Purves as a “Blue Peter Presenter who in His Acting Days was on Doctor Who”; it was an interesting trivia factoid, a curio, but nothing to boast about.

  In execution, however, Purves has been so much more – at various stages, he’s been an action hero, a comedy stooge and a moral centre. He’s been adaptable to the point that no role has been beyond him, whilst remaining solid at the ailing Hartnell’s side. So it’s wonderful that he here gets a decent send off, as he becomes the man best suited to mediate between the Elders and the Savages.

  If I’m overly fixated on Steven, it’s probably because if this wasn’t his final story, I’d be struggling to say anything about it at all. (Except of course, for the fact that – as if to counterbalance the John Wiles era – everybody lives!) This could well be the most innocuous Doctor Who story of all time – which is an accolade of sorts, I suppose. I’m hard pressed to call this “interesting”; “curious” is perhaps a better descriptor for it. But that’s perfectly fine – Doctor Who should be willing to do such material, there shouldn’t be a formula to it. Even if this hasn’t been the most exciting of stories, it has its charms and it’s been about something. Best of all, Steven’s departure is given necessary weight, and both Hartnell and Lane act their socks off in response. We will miss him, but we trust him to rise to this new challenge.

  Did you notice, though, how we pretty much leave Steven as we found him, stuck on an alien planet? Only this time, he hasn’t got a stuffed panda to keep him company. Never mind, Clare Jenkins is certainly more than adequate recompense.

  The War Machines episode one

  R: Something that’s always puzzled me: the rogue computer is called Wotan, so why does everyone pronounce it as if it begins with a “V”? The “W” stands for “world”, and yet no-one goes around referring to how the war machines are going to enslave the vorld’s population for the next four episodes. For a while you think that maybe it’s Professor Brett’s own affectation, but everybody else does it as well – perhaps he’s got some strange speech impediment, and Sir Charles and Major Green are merely imitating him rather cruelly to take the piss. It’s rather odd. I suppose it’s an attempt by the production team to give all this a Cold War sense – which is fine, 60s movies are full of East German scientists making armageddon devices. But then why not just go the whole hog, and have the Professor called Himmler rather than Brett?