Although deemed to be a critical and ratings success, the idea of a season-long arc story on Doctor Who would not be tried again for another eight years, although some seasons would feature related story trilogies or overall themes. The Key to Time season had averaged 8.6 million viewers (consistent with the previous year’s 8.9 million average), ranging from lows of 6.5 million for the first part of The Power of Kroll to 12.4 million (almost double) for the next part of the same adventure.
The two stories that opened Williams’ final season in charge of Doctor Who were ratings blockbusters, thanks in large part to a strike that took ITV off air for three months in the autumn of 1979. Destiny of the Daleks climaxed with 14.4 million viewers watching, while the following story, City of Death, reached a record audience for Doctor Who of 16.1 million (actually coming a week after the ITV strike had ended and broadcasting had resumed).
The return of the Daleks for the first time in four years was event television anyway and bound to draw an audience. It’s a shame, therefore, that Terry Nation’s final script for the series should be so poor and the resulting production so shabby. Douglas Adams had become script editor, so the series’ seventeenth season on air saw the comedy element that had been growing through Williams’ period in charge foregrounded even more. Destiny of the Daleks sees the Daleks unearthing their creator, Davros, to help them break a stalemate in their ongoing war with the robotic Movellans. Growing awareness of computers and their roles in modern life (especially the military) lay at the root of this story. Superpower stand-offs, like the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, are another clear influence on Nation and Adams’ thinking, alongside game theory and the doctrine of ‘mutually assured destruction’, according to which it was believed that no country could initiate a nuclear war due to the fear that instant response would see them destroyed in turn.
The following story, City of Death, was the first time Doctor Who had been filmed abroad, with the story set in modern Paris (all the location filming was accomplished in a few days, often shooting on the fly on the streets without permits). The disruptive effects of experiments in time see the Doctor and Romana encounter Scaroth, last of the Jagaroth. Splintered through time, the alien has hidden among humanity and financed his temporal experiments to reunite himself through selling art fakes, including the Mona Lisa. It’s a light run around, wittily scripted by Adams and Williams (under a false name), with many memorable images and moments, from the unmasking of the alien Scaroth (Julian Glover) to tiny guest appearances by Eleanor Bron and John Cleese as art critics expressing their appreciation of the TARDIS as art object (which it later became thanks to artist Mark Wallinger, who displayed a silver, mirrored TARDIS at the 2001 Venice Biennale). The complicated time-twisting story is told with an unusual brio, and the story moves at a pace that wouldn’t be matched until the 45-minute episodes of the post-2005 series revival.
The remaining stories of Williams’ period showed evidence of a series in rapid decline. Although The Creature from the Pit was a pastiche of free-market economics, it boasted a central monster that appeared to be a giant inflated green bag. Nightmare of Eden had better monsters, in the shape of the Mandrels, and a serious subtext concerning drug-trafficking (the Mandrels can be transformed into deadly addictive drug vraxoin). The cod-disaster-movie setting of two ships that have crashed and merged mid-materialisation is a clever idea, while the Continuous Event Transmuter (a virtual-reality machine) sees the show continuing to experiment with new special-effects technology in the form of the Quantel digital-effects system. Finally, the season ended on a memorably poor note with The Horns of Nimon, another parody of a Greek legend set in space, this time Theseus and the Minotaur. Poor production values and over-the-top guest stars served to derail this story, even before the unconvincing, bull-headed Nimon aliens appeared.
Those three adventures suffered troubled production histories as Williams seemed to be increasingly losing control of his show (due to a variety of factors) and was battling with his leading man, who was determined to re-shape the show his way. The culmination of this was the cancellation of what should have been the season-finale story, Shada. With 77 minutes of the 132-minute, Douglas Adams-scripted, six-episode story already filmed, the production was abandoned due to strike action at the BBC. It was to be an ignominious end to Williams’ troubled time as Doctor Who’s producer. It appeared that only a dramatic regeneration could save the series, and that’s exactly what incoming producer John Nathan-Turner set out to achieve.
5. TIME LORD ON TRIAL
The 1980s were a turbulent time for Doctor Who, as well as socially and politically in Britain (although the series would largely disengage from reflecting this, except perhaps in its own behind-the-scenes turmoil). The 1980s were also a time of increasing postmodernity in pop culture, with self-awareness featuring in a variety of media. A postmodern approach to storytelling came to dominate Doctor Who, undermining the audience’s long attachment to the show. There was also a boom in nostalgia, with the 1960s in particular coming under the microscope, something the show was only too happy to trade on. This all fed into flamboyant new producer John Nathan-Turner’s penchant for event television, a growing aspect of the maturing of the media that he would ruthlessly exploit in the promotion of the show.
With the arrival of Conservative Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher in Downing Street, Britain faced a period of dynamic historical, political and social change through the 1980s. Ruthless modernisation of the economy led to record unemployment and deindustrialisation, which in turn resulted in greater social division and unrest. Privatisation saw many state utilities sold off, while coal mining came to a virtual end as a result of Conservative policies and the controversial (and violent) miners’ strike of 1984–85. The country also faced increased terrorist activity on the UK mainland carried out by the IRA as the Irish ‘Troubles’ continued.
Doctor Who’s eighteenth season started the decade with a creative revamp that, nonetheless, saw it receive some of the lowest ratings in its long history. Similarly, the twenty-sixth season also saw a creative renaissance, yet achieved some of the series’ lowest ever audience numbers, leading to the end of the show’s initial run in 1989. The only common denominator on Doctor Who through the 1980s was producer John Nathan-Turner.
Taking over from Graham Williams, John Nathan-Turner had a solid history with the programme, unlike the two previous producers. His connections to Doctor Who went back to 1969, as floor manager on the Troughton story The Space Pirates. He’d worked on the show throughout the 1970s, most consistently as the budget-controlling production unit manager. Graham Williams had suggested that Nathan-Turner be associate producer, as he was instrumental in getting the programme made on budget. Concern about Nathan-Turner’s lack of direct producing experience saw Barry Letts appointed as overseeing executive producer. Through the years, Nathan-Turner became as much of an icon of the show as his leading men, Peter Davison, Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy. He was a master of publicity, often featuring himself in any coverage as much as the show’s stars.
Most of the stylistic changes and format alterations that Doctor Who had undergone during its first 17 years were driven by, or identified with, a newly installed producer or production team. From Verity Lambert to Innes Lloyd, Doctor Who changed from a serialised exploration of other worlds and strange societies to a series of ‘base-undersiege’ stories in which the Doctor and his companions confronted marauding monsters. The arrival of Barry Letts and colour brought the show down to Earth for several years, with a gritty, thriller approach. This changed again with Philip Hinchcliffe and Robert Holmes’ ‘gothic horror’ period, followed by Williams’ era of satire and parody.
John Nathan-Turner’s decade on Doctor Who (from 1980 to 1989) did not feature the same ‘producer’s mark’. After his initial creative producing in the early-1980s, Nathan-Turner became detached from the show. The decade’s stylistic shifts can, therefore, be more easily understood when attributed to changes in sc
ript editor. Distinctive periods followed the appointments of Christopher H Bidmead, Eric Saward and Andrew Cartmel as script editors. As the decade progressed, Nathan-Turner was more a practical line producer, bringing the series in on time and on budget, handling internal BBC politics and external promotion. Bidmead and Saward’s periods coincided with the departure of Tom Baker (following attempts to tone down his performance) and Peter Davison’s arrival, with Saward continuing through the short-lived and controversial TARDIS occupancy of Colin Baker. Finally, Cartmel revitalised the show with Sylvester McCoy as the star, before its cancellation in 1989.
Bidmead and Nathan-Turner set out to make a more serious version of Doctor Who. Pastiche and parody were abandoned in favour of serious storytelling and stronger scientific rigour. They paid attention to surface gloss and mise-en-scène (the details of sets, costumes) and visual continuity with the series’ own past. Their removal of the humour left space for a reliance on ‘real science’ for story concepts. This led to a dearth of significant social or political content. This new ‘hard science’ era of the show also drew inspiration from ‘new wave’ literary science fiction and Hollywood movies, rather than from the political and social realities of the 1980s. Where Letts and Dicks engaged with the contemporary politics of the 1970s (as detailed in chapter three), Nathan-Turner and his script editors were inspired by films like 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Alien, Star Wars and comic-book superheroes, rather than the politically and socially disruptive rise of Thatcherism.
The problem with this approach was that, instead of being a series with wide appeal and easily accessible to a large casual TV audience, Doctor Who became increasingly insular and was widely perceived as a ‘geeky’ sci-fi show that appealed to a few nerdy obsessives. This style-over-substance approach was suitable for the postmodern 1980s, but it resulted in the series disengaging from its popular audience, turning inwards, becoming self-obsessed and, eventually, losing the support of the majority of viewers, resulting in cancellation in 1989.
The changes to Doctor Who were immediately apparent to TV audiences from the first episode of The Leisure Hive on 30 August 1980. The blue-tinged, time-tunnel title sequence was gone, replaced by a blast of white light and a starfield that formed Tom Baker’s face. This was accompanied by a loud, aggressive, heavily synthesised version of the Doctor Who theme. This was Doctor Who for the 1980s – slick, glossy, fast paced, loud and brash.
Tom Baker’s costume had been redesigned in a deep red that reflected the star’s newly subdued, melancholic approach to the role. The Doctor’s clothes (and those of his companions) had now become a uniform, in the style of comic-book superheroes. This created an easily recognised silhouette, thanks to the distinctive hat-and-scarf combination. In the past, the Doctor’s look could vary from story to story or match a specific theme (like his deerstalker-cap-and-cape affair in The Talons of Weng-Chiang). Now the Doctor’s outfit (and those of Baker’s successors) would rarely change. It was an approach that was much criticised, but it displayed the conceptual thinking that Nathan-Turner (and collaborators) was bringing to the series.
Season 18 was a radical departure for Doctor Who. While largely applauded by dedicated fans (see chapter six), it did not find great favour with the vast majority of viewers. This revamped approach resulted in one of the show’s lowest-rated periods ever, falling by almost 50 per cent from the previous year. The season averaged 5.8 million, with a low of 3.7 million watching the second episode of Full Circle. Viewers were more attracted by the even glossier, easily accessible, action-adventure thrills of the American series Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, scheduled opposite Doctor Who by ITV. The show, based on the 1929 newspaper comic strip, provided the easy thrills that audiences had come to associate with science fiction since 1977’s Star Wars. Doctor Who, in comparison, seemed low key, domestic (lacking the new-frontier, space-race spirit of the US), limited and old-fashioned, despite Nathan-Turner’s drastic reinvention.
The eighteenth season’s seven stories featured little in direct political or social commentary. The Leisure Hive drew from Francis Ford Coppola’s film of Mario Puzo’s The Godfather (1972), rather than satirising the British holiday business and the growing ‘leisure economy’ of the 1980s, and rated 5.1 million viewers overall. Only 4.7 million tuned in to the second story, Meglos, which saw the Doctor’s identity stolen by a cactus-like life form. The story is notable as the first manifestation of Nathan-Turner’s interest in the series’ own past and his ‘celebrity guest stars’ policy. Jacqueline Hill, who’d played companion Barbara Wright opposite William Hartnell’s First Doctor, returned in a major guest role. This ‘stunt casting’ would become a regular device used to generate tabloid press coverage.
Bidmead’s ‘real science’ agenda kicked into high gear with the ‘E-Space’ trilogy. Inspired by the 1978 Key to Time season, Bidmead devised a linked trilogy of stories set in a mini-universe dubbed ‘E-Space’ (for exo-space). He drafted a memo for the writers, outlining the scientific basis for the trilogy’s exotic location, although very little of the divergent laws of physics proposed were realised. The three stories provide a satisfying linked narrative that pays off with the departure of companion Romana and K-9 at the conclusion of Warriors’ Gate. Full Circle is an evolution parable, in which the crew of a crashed starliner discover they’re not descended from the original occupants of the craft, but instead from the indigenous ‘marshmen’ primitives, whom they despise. There’s also a critique of animal cruelty in the depiction of the crew’s treatment of the Marshman. Filmic influences include Planet of the Apes (1968) and The Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954), showing the dominance of the visual media in influencing the show, rather than any ideas reflecting the extreme political and social change sweeping Britain in the early-1980s.
The middle story of the trilogy did little to change this: a revival of Terrance Dicks’ cancelled 1977 vampire script The Witch Lords. In its new form as State of Decay, Dicks transported his vampires (ancient enemies of the Time Lords) into E-Space. The result is a New Romantic-inspired, gothic-influenced version of a Hammer film. Bidmead’s influence on the story was to make the vampires vulnerable to technology (as they’re aliens), rather than anything supernatural. The New Romantic, post-Punk, pop-cultural influence would reach a climax on Warriors’ Gate, where much of the visual style draws from 1980s pop videos, like Adam and the Ants’ ‘Prince Charming’. It features elaborate video effects and lashings of stylistic weirdness. Although the story invokes slavery (a big issue, but not particularly contemporary) in the plight of the time-trapped Tharils (the lion-men), the filmic influence this time is Cocteau’s 1946 film La Belle et la Bête, with the magic-mirror doorway and the look of the Tharils obvious homages. Confirming the dominance of classic filmic culture on this unusual season of Doctor Who, it’s no surprise that Warriors’ Gate director Paul Joyce arranged screenings of source films for cast and crew (often done in the feature-film world). Among them was Alain Resnais’ Last Year in Marienbad (1961, featuring time slippage), Cocteau’s Orphée (1950, walking through mirrors), and John Carpenter’s space comedy Dark Star (1974, the blue-collar crew of the trapped space-ship). This primacy given to the ‘look’ of the show over ideas was a deliberate choice.
The conceptually driven ‘E-Space’ trilogy held 5.2 million for the first two stories, with a sudden jump to 7.5 million for the third. This appears strange as Warriors’ Gate is notoriously one of Doctor Who’s more ‘difficult’ stories and is emblematic of Nathan-Turner’s consciously challenging approach. The sudden increase in viewers does not denote a sudden awakening on behalf of the British TV viewing public. Realising Doctor Who was being slaughtered in the ratings at 6.15pm, the BBC moved the show back to 5.10pm, resulting in a sudden influx of viewers (in an age long before video recorders, time shifting and Sky+).
Season 18 climaxed with a double bill of stories (The Keeper of Traken and Logopolis) that saw the resurrection of the Doctor’s archenemy, the Master (Anthon
y Ainley). The fairytale atmosphere of Warriors’ Gate continued into the penultimate story, The Keeper of Traken. Nathan-Turner carefully structured the end of the season and the beginning of the next to bridge the change of lead actor, fearing that there might be resistance among younger viewers for whom Tom Baker was the only Doctor. New companion Adric (Matthew Waterhouse) had already joined the TARDIS crew in Full Circle, and Romana had left, along with K-9, in Warriors’ Gate. The Keeper of Traken introduced Nyssa (Sarah Sutton), orphaned by the Master, but who doesn’t opt to travel with the Doctor until the season finale, Logopolis. That final adventure for Tom Baker would also introduce the third new companion, Tegan Jovanka (Janet Fielding), an opinionated Australian flight attendant. The biggest change would be reserved for the closing moments of Logopolis when Tom Baker’s Doctor finally regenerated.
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