The Daleks' Master Plan (Episodes 1-6)

If I’m honest – and I always try to be – this is the point in this experiment that I was dreading.  The Daleks’ Master Plan is an epic, 12-episode marathon, and a lot of it is written by Terry Nation.  I could fall out with this serial at the mere thought.  At the suggestion of a friend, this update will be split into three sections – episodes 1-6, episode 7, and episodes 8-12.  The reasoning behind that will hopefully be clear.

For years, my only experience of this serial was by way of the Target novelisations – which are superb – by John Peel, splitting the story up over two books.  I intend to do the same thing with this blog entry, dividing it down the middle.  Wish me luck...

Sadly, only 3 episodes from this almightily epic serial exist, with a few short clips from some of the other episodes.  Fortunately, the audio, with Peter Purves’ narration, do exist and allow an idea of how this must’ve appeared.  Episode 1 picks up where The Myth Makers ended, with the Doctor and Katarina nursing the ailing Steven, suffering from blood poisoning and on the edge of death thanks to an injury sustained during the burning of Troy.  The main focus, however, is upon Bret Vyon and Kurt Gantry on the surface of the planet Kembel.  Vyon is played magnificently by Nicholas Courtney, better known for his recurring role as Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart.  As with Marc Cory in Mission to the Unknown, both SSS operatives are cool and crisp, delivering their lines with brisk efficiency.  What is beautiful is that at no point does the pair directly reference the Daleks by name – there is the mention of “those things” and “they”, but the Daleks are not name-checked yet.  Instead, the audience is forced to remember the one-off serial which aired 5 weeks earlier.

The scenes back on Earth are wonderfully dry – as Roald and Lizan sit around discussing what to watch on TV and oblivious to the flashing light signalling Vyon’s message, it is rather wittily written.  There is a strong tone of cynicism as they watch Mavic Chen on the screen discussing his holiday plans – it could be likened to an interview with David Cameron today.

The scenes back on Kembel suddenly jump back to life, as we are able to see an existing clip from the story – and it is instantly clear that, as always, we are in safe hands with Douglas Camfield.  Whilst much of the story is missing, it is evident that it will have been very cleverly handled, based on clips like this – the framing of the shots are wonderful, and there is a real sense of menace in the way in which the Dalek towers over Gantry, mercilessly shooting him down. 

Steven’s fate is ultimately interwoven with that of Vyon – upon observing the materialisation of the TARDIS, he follows the Doctor and forces him to hand the keys over.  Once inside, he tries to persuade Katarina to take off – not that there’s any chance of that, mind, since the poor girl doesn’t even understand the concept of a key! – but is promptly knocked out when Steven sees the Doctor locked outside on the scanner.  Fortunately, the Doctor was right about the planet being advanced enough to provide the drugs needed to save Steven’s life, as Vyon carries some medicine with him in his belt-pack.  With Steven gradually recuperating, unknown to the Doctor, we are left to see him discover what we as an audience already know – the Daleks are on Kembel forging an alliance that will spell the end of civilisation.  Returning to the TARDIS, he discovers that the doors are open, and the ship is surrounded.

Of course, everything is alright though – Steven and Katarina are lying some distance away, hiding.  This episode exists in the archives, and again it proves just how good a director Douglas Camfield is.  His use of blocking is magnificent, and there are some real flairs here – moments like the greeting between Zephon and Chen are beautifully realised, creating a grand scale which we could only imagine of the first episode.  Likewise, the framing of Courtney’s face as he reveals his disgust at the presence of Mavic Chen on the planet is wonderful; we are up close and personal, and his curl of the lips is beautifully underplayed.

The Master of Zephon, a huge creature in a long black cowl and with hairy hands and feet, is impressively played by Julian Sherrier – but sadly less impressive when played by Hartnell, as the disguise is taken and Hartnell’s Doctor is able to be proactive and disrupt the meeting.  Whilst Sherrier was all about the grand gestures – his entrance is magnificent as he strides confidently, arms out-stretched, through the entrance hall  - Hartnell instead elects a far softer more docile approach, head bowed, arms crossed and quick steps.  Quite how none of the other delegates are suspicious is baffling – his feet are clearly not the fuzzy claws we saw earlier, and his every mannerism is different.  Also, when Zephon finally gets back to his feet and sounds the alarm, he is still wearing his cloak – surely he doesn’t have a cloak beneath his cloak?  Is he the equivalent of a Voord, a man in a wetsuit with skin like a wetsuit, as was hinted at in The Keys of Marinus?

What is also interesting about this second episode existing, of course, is the fact that it allows us to see all of the other delegates – whilst stills exist from Mission to the Unknown, it has always remained unclear who exactly was who.  Toby Hadoke makes an interesting suggestion in Running Through Corridors regarding their character names based on the stature, and in one case race, of the actors performing the roles.  Here, though, they have been recast – and several have been replaced entirely.  Gone is the Christmas Tree / Sorting Hat, and in its place is a fascinating character moving in slow motion, covered in balls.  Again, the makeup is superb here.

Episode 2 is also important for another reason – until the recovery of it in 2004, there was no existing footage of Katarina at all – as such, we had no way of seeing exactly how Adrienne Hill played her, only able to hear her rather disjointed and staccato delivery at the end of The Myth Makers and on the soundtrack to this serial.  Now that we can see it, however, it becomes far more interesting;  whilst she always sounded rather monotonous and uninspired, her performance is beautifully played with little quirks and nuances, as she walks around in a daze constantly, arms floating airily by her side.  She also provides a cracking cliffhanger, wonderfully poignant as she exclaims that they cannot leave without the Doctor – “Without him, we can’t reach the place of perfection”.  The desperation in her voice is clear, and it is telling that even with the Doctor’s insistence that he is not a god, she still sees him as a saviour, one without whom they stand no chance.  It speaks volumes about the way in which the show is still progressing, as since Ian left, the Doctor has become far more proactive.

Episode 3 leaves us back to only having a soundtrack and a few existing clips, but based on the soundtrack alone it is quite a belter – the scene in which the Daleks stand by, watching the war of words between Mavic Chen and Zephon is wonderful, and Kevin Stoney, as Chen, is simply breathtaking.  The arrogance and corruption oozes from him, and he is spectacular in scenes like this.  What is also fantastic is that after the ludicrously debasing saga of The Chase, the Daleks are genuinely threatening again – the carelessness on their part is fantastically played, as whoever loses this verbal sparring will be executed, as simple as that.  They do not care who dies, but someone will, to pay the price for the failing. 

The scenes on Desperus – because the convicts are desperate... gettit?! – sound great too.  The in-fighting between the convicts over ownership of the knife is wonderful, and what is interesting is that it is Kirksen who survives on the planet and enters the airlock before the Spar takes off again.  Easily the weakest of the three, it is he who shows cunning, and leads wonderfully into the cliffhanger, which is possibly the first time a scream has seamlessly melded into the closing credits – something which Bonnie Langford will make every effort to do week-in-week-out in the 1980s.  Here, it is the Doctor’s carelessness which has led to Kirksen gaining entry – he left the external door open because he isn’t “used to this kind of craft”.  Likewise, it is he who sends Katarina to check on the door, leading her to her impending death.

The death scene, in episode 4, still exists, and the struggle between Katarina and Kirksen is horrible to watch, as the pair tussles inside the airlock, and Bret’s refusal to change direction, builds up the tension and the drama nicely.  When she pushes the button to expel both herself and the convict into space, it is heartbreaking, and Purves’ delivery as he screams her name is wonderfully touching.  Even more powerful, though, is Hartnell’s speech, as he says that “She wanted to save our lives and perhaps the lives of all the other beings of the Solar System. I hope she's found her Perfection. Oh, how I shall always remember her as one of the Daughters of the Gods. Yes, as one of the Daughters of the Gods.”  It is a speech which should be up there with the “I shall come back” speech of The Dalek Invasion of Earth, yet is largely unknown because of the lack of existent material. 

This scene also marks an important first – the death of a companion should not be underrated, as it is a powerfully emotive scene, and one which further highlights the danger of the Doctor’s lifestyle.  Whilst each serial invariably features a character nearly meeting their end – whether by a sword, a ray gun, a depressurised airlock or what you will – they are always seen to be saved.  Here, though, we realise that the Doctor loses.  Or more importantly, that the Doctor can lose.  Later in this episode, we have the death of Bret Vyon, and he receives no eulogy whatsoever;  the Doctor and Steven simply believe he’s fallen back somewhere, and even when they discover his fate, little is said or done about it.  It will not be until Earthshock in the 1980s that a companion should suffer such an emotively-strung fate again, but this is beside the point.  If companions were frequently shown to die, it would remove some of the wonder and fantasy that time travel entails.  It is enough to simply show that they can die.  Interestingly, had Vicki not left the series in the episode before, it would have been her to have died in that airlock, and that frequently doesn’t even bare thinking about – Katarina had only travelled briefly with the Doctor, and it was heartbreaking, but if it had been Maureen O’Brien instead, goodness knows how I’d have felt.

The return to Earth also sees the introduction of Jean Marsh’s character, Sara Kingdom.  Last seen in The Crusade, Marsh brings a sense of coldness to this character, crisp and clipped in tone, dressed in a black cat suit.  Her brisk manner underlies the danger she poses, and her calm willingness to follow orders is wonderful when seen in juxtaposition with her performance in episode 5.  Also on Earth is the man Bret Vyon trusts implicitly, Daxtar, played wonderfully by Roger Avon (also from The Crusade).  Daxtar’s treachery is uncovered rather simplistically, however, using the old trick which we saw most recently in The Time Meddler – he is obviously a spy because he knows things that the TARDIS crew haven’t yet told him.  Bret’s argument that “I’ve known this man all my life” is quickly undermined when he executes him in cold blood for his betrayal. 

Equally cold-blooded is the execution of Vyon, by Sara Kingdom, who accuses him of treasonous behaviour.  The efficiency with which she guns him down, followed by her orders to kill the Doctor and Steven, are troubling enough – but her addition of “aim for the head” makes the blood run cold. 

 

Episode 5 exists, which is both a blessing and a curse – sadly, this episode is the weakest of the serial so far, featuring clumsy Daleks and mice.  Essentially a reread of The Chase, up to now, the story has bounced from location to location, with our heroes only ever being breathing distance from the next threat.  Now that they are being pursued by Daleks, the similarity becomes even more noticeable.  What this episode does do very well, though, is cement what we heard in episode 4 – and that is that Stoney is simply magnificent.  In episode 2, particularly with Zephon, he was great.  Here though, away from funny looking aliens and tin-pot wannabe dictators, he smoulders brilliantly.  His scenes with Karlton, played by the impressively-bald looking Maurice Browning, are fantastic, as he rants about power and see his quirky mannerisms underlying the danger of the maniac. Likewise, we are able to see Stoney through Browning’s eyes too – he is clearly aware that his boss is going crazy, yet is willing to goad him, to push him onwards.  Karlton is actually the brains of this operation – the ultimate spin doctor, in fact, as he works to turn the situation into an advantage for them both.  It’s wonderful to see, and in lesser hands, both roles would have been hammy and over-the-top, but instead the performances are low-key when they need to be, filled with explosive bombast the next moment – and always brilliant.

The revelation that Kingdom was related to Bret – “Bret Vyon was my brother” – is stunning, and delivered wonderfully.  In the last episode, Kingdom was a threat to our travellers, but now, forced to unite with them, her character needs a quick 180-degree turn, becoming an ally.  It should feel forced and tacky, but the cast work with the principal wonderfully, with Steven’s bluster turning to embarrassment, and Hartnell showing clear sympathy for a woman who was simply doing her duty.

On the planet Mira – it’s like a mire, a swamp, see? – the three are forced to work together as they do battle with the Visians, the first invisible monsters in Doctor Who history (although they certainly won’t be the last!)  Added to this the threat of the Daleks, and the tension is ramped up successfully for Hartnell’s line at the cliffhanger – “I’m afraid, my friends, that the Daleks have won”.  We’re only five episodes in, and it would appear that the serial is winding itself up – a contemporary audience would have had no idea that this particular story is due to run for 12 weeks.

Episode 6 is something of a blessing, really – it sees the writing credits handed over to the wonderful Dennis Spooner, and the dialogue instantly feels richer and more varied.  Whilst Nation is a perfectly adept writer – at times – the serial suddenly feels fresher and more natural under Spooner’s pen, and it somehow lifts the pace of the serial too.

Peter Purves is excellent in this episode – feeling useless and outdated, his act of courage and bravery is wonderfully played, a man desperate to have some impact.  Sadly, of course, we can’t see his performance, but based on Purves’ own narration on the audiotrack, I bet it was great – “With a struggle, Steven manages to blink his eyes”.  The plot device is wonderfully simple too – creating a false core that looks and feels identical is a little clichéd, and in Nation’s hands it almost certainly would have been, but Spooner creates a sense of urgency about the whole thing – as the ship is being drawn back to Kembel, it is Steven’s sacrifice which saves them.

Likewise, as the handover is performed outside the TARDIS, it is Steven who makes the whole thing possible – thanks to the field around him, he is able to hand the false taranium core back to the Daleks and escape into the ship without coming to any harm.  The sixth episode comes to a close somewhere, unknown due to the broken scanner, but with horrifically poisonous readings.  One could be forgiven for thinking that, once and for all, The Daleks’ Master Plan has been defeated...

The Myth Makers

I have listened to the audio track for The Myth Makers before, and whilst it was entertaining enough, it was never one of my favourites.  Watching the series in order from the start, however, one sees just how groundbreaking it is – Donald Cotton’s writing is magnificent, and it is almost impossible not to fall in love with the serial; indeed, it may well be one of my favourites from the Hartnell era now.  I got hold of the soundtrack to this in the same way that I got hold of them all – a friend, James, sent me them, and I devoured the whole lot, not necessarily in order, but without paying a great deal of attention to some.  Whilst Marco Polo soaked me in completely from the first 2 minutes, The Myth Makers was rather more background music than absorbed entertainment.  I gave an occasional chuckle, but that was all.

Despite not existing save for scant telesnaps, the occasional brief moments of low quality 8mm footage and the audio track, it is an absolute pleasure to ‘watch’.  Interestingly, almost all existing footage is of Maureen O’Brien – it would appear that whoever took the time to record this clearly felt passionately about Vicki’s character!  The wonderful costumes and sets really help to sell the production, too – what we can see of them, of course – John Wood’s realisation of the Trojan horse is particularly spectacular, and the costumes are exceptionally splendid, realised wonderfully by Daphne Dare and Tony Pearce. 

 

Opening the serial here was a brave move – following last week’s brief distraction, featuring an unknown cast of characters and the reappearance of the Daleks, a contemporary audience must have been totally thrown by the absence of them for this serial.  Mission to the Unknown had promised outer space, Dalek battles, a Secret Service in the future, and no appearance of the Doctor and the TARDIS.  To follow it up with an historical must have really confused the kids at home, desperately hoping to see the Doctor’s involvement with that story.  But instead, we arrive on the plains outside of Troy, to two soldiers sparring both physically and verbally.

The opening scene is fantastic – the action opens on Hector and Achilles battling furiously, verbally assaulting each other with prosaic, Shakespearean dialogue – “Your bones would be the meatier, Trojan. Though meat a trifle rough at that. Well, all's one. They will whiten well enough in the sun!” has a fabulous ring to it – but what makes this work so well, although we cannot see it, is the comedy which then underlies it;  rather than face off admirably, Achilles decides to turn and run away as Hector gains the upper hand. The action then cuts to the interior of the TARDIS, with the Doctor, Vicki and Steven watching the struggle on the scanner.  The Doctor even openly criticises the action outside, in a knowing and metatextual nod to the style of the serial, commenting that “they’re doing more talking than they are fighting.”

When the Doctor steps out of the TARDIS and is mistaken for the father of the gods, Zeus, there is some wonderful comedy, and Hartnell, as always, thrives on the chance to sink his teeth into the meaty text.  The idea that he is told that he looks like “the guise of an old beggar” is beautifully delivered with dead-pan aplomb by Cavan Kendall, and unlike with Barbara in The Aztecs, the Doctor is quite willing to go along with the mistaken belief.  It is the distraction of the Doctor which allows Achilles to win in his battle with Hector, and upon the arrival of Odysseus, it is evident that despite being an historically famous fighter, many have little faith in Achilles’ abilities as a warrior.  It is suggested that Achilles tired Hector out by running away and exhausting him in pursuit, and again through the lampooning of historical figures, the comedy is bountiful – Odysseus’ mocking echoes that of King Priam and his son in the next episode.  Cotton is purposefully confusing the audience, suggesting that there is a fine line between fact and fiction, one which is readily blurred through mythology.  This becomes a theme later with the Trojan horse.

Sadly, some of Cotton’s finest work would have been in his use of wordplay – the titles of the episodes would have forewarned the audience of the inherent comedy of the serial, but most were vetoed – originally, episode 1 was to have been entitled “Zeus Ex Machina”, with episode 3 entitled “Is there a Doctor in the Horse?”  As it was, only the second title is particularly amusing – “Small Prophet, Quick Return”.

The action soon moves to the tents of the Greek warriors Agamemnon and Menelaus discussing the tedium of battle – the ten years war has driven the troops to distraction, and all over Helen, Menelaus’ wife, who has run off with a Trojan.  Of course, the tale of Helen of Troy, whose face could launch a thousand ships, is infamous, but it is the distracted way in which Menelaus says that he is “heartily glad to see the back of her” which raises laughs.  The two are portrayed as bickering siblings, rather than fear-inducing monarchs, and the “stop interrupting” of Agamemnon adds to the humour, whilst also reminding us of the underlying threat.  We are frequently faced with powerful men for humorous purposes – such as Nero in The Romans – yet there is always the underlying threat of death should our travellers fail to please them.  These are powerful men, who need only click their fingers to have someone put to death, but by showing them as such tired and bored men helps to create a sense of levity.  As Agamemnon, Francis de Woolf is superb – last seen as Vasor the trapper in The Keys of Marinus, here he is superb.  Rather than milking the scene by hamming it up, he plays it straight, which makes it all the funnier.

 

Further comedy arises in the form of Cyclops, played by Tutte Lemkow.  As always, there is no existing footage of the character – poor Lemkow barely exists as far as Doctor Who is concerned! – but the mute spy approaches Odysseus.  Where the comedy is milked from this scene, however, is all down to the outstanding Ivor Salter as Odysseus – his one-sided conversation with the spy is brilliant, as we are forced to imagine just how exactly Cyclops was able to mime all of the information which his master gleams from his report.

The first episode ends with the abduction of the TARDIS by the Trojans, with Vicki still inside.  Through its placement within the Trojan camp, this allows us access to the opposing side, and Cotton is just as scathing about them.  Led by another dangerously bored character, Priam oversees his court with wonderful dead-pan humour.  His open mocking of the soft and pathetic Paris is superb, as he questions “what sort of brother are you?  Furthermore, what sort of son?!” due to Paris’ failure to avenge Hector’s death.  Paris’ pride at bringing the TARDIS as a prize underlies his utter incompetence – and foreshadows his idiocy at the end of episode 3, once again bringing a ‘gift’ into the city without thinking of the consequences. 

What is so spectacular about The Myth Makers is that whilst it is certainly a comedy, and a rich one filled with fantastic dialogue at that, at no point does anyone ham it up, or play it for laughs.  It is performed as though it were a straight piece, making the comedy all the funnier.  Even the characters that perform no comedic part, though, are brilliant – Frances White, as Cassandra, is a part that gets nothing comedic to deliver, yet becomes the butt of many a joke.  Priam’s declaration that he suspects “it's a kind of insurance, so that if things do go wrong she can always say 'I told you so.'” is wonderfully delivered.  The most tragic thing about this, of course, is that Cassandra is right to worry about the strangers, and worryingly, her predictions are true – she dreams that a gift containing Greek soldiers will arrive and destroy their lives as they know them, but it isn’t the TARDIS of which she has predicted – it is the Trojan horse.  Likewise, we are expected not to like Odysseus, as he is a brute of a man, a closed-minded warrior.  Yet he too is right not to trust the Doctor – his disregard for superstition is founded on sense. 

Vicki’s christening as Cressida is a clever move by Cotton too – Vicki sounds far too much like “a heathen sort of name” – and almost any viewer will know that Cressida will marry Troilus.  Here, though, so many of the conventions of Greek mythology are muddled that it throws us; whilst that is how the story goes, we have no way of knowing how their story will end.  Achilles isn’t the hero we believed.  Odysseus is a pillager and a brute, not the hero we expect.  So how will their story end? 

As Paris, Barrie Ingham gets some wonderful comedy to play with – the scene in which he attempts to challenge Achilles, but his voice gradually becomes quieter and quieter as he realises what the fight would mean, is wonderful, and when he manages to get into a fight with Steven, posing as Diomede in an attempt to infiltrate the Trojan city, is also wonderful – the bluster he manages to convey simply with his voice is phenomenal – as Steven wins over his ‘captor with unfounded praise (Oh, I could tell them a tale or two of your valour that that would make even King Priam blanch to hear.) it is Paris’ response of “Oh, I say – could you really?!” which makes the scene so funny.

The most intriguing thing about this serial, as I’ve mentioned, is the frivolous way in which it changes the conventions of Greek drama, and our expectations of characters.  This serial is actually the first in which the Doctor actively attempts to manipulate the past; despite the slow-dawning realisation that he gave Nero the idea to burn down Rome in The Romans, it was only by pure accident that it happened.  Here, though, Hartnell is actively engaging in the events of history, attempting to create a method for Odysseus’ men to attack Troy.  When Steven suggests the Trojan horse, the Doctor instantly pooh-poohs the idea, claiming that it was obviously exaggeration and created by Homer as a dramatic device.  But when his plans for flying machines fails – principally due to his fear that he will be put in one – he changes his tune and decides to design the horse after all.  It is this creation which has a direct result upon history; and whilst the story is fixed in books anyway, it is because of the Doctor’s invention that it exists at all.  The model work on the horse is superb, and the scenes inside it are intriguing – we can only wonder what it looked like in there, as the exterior is so superbly crafted.  Incidentally – and again, riskily, considering Doctor Who is principally for children – Odysseus even gets to make a throw-away joke about an orgy!  It’s genius!

The climax to episode 3 has one of the greatest – and cheesiest – lines ever – Cassandra’s doom-laden “Woe to the House of Priam!  Woe to the Trojans!” is swiftly countered, again by Paris, saying “It’s a bit late to say ‘whoa’ to the horse” as it is being brought into the city.

After such lightweight and frivolous scripting in the first three episodes, episode 4 comes as something of a shock to the system.  The fight scenes sound incredible, and Peter Purves’ narration on the audiotrack is superb, verging on extremely graphic.  The scene in which Troilus slays Achilles is incredible, and the moment where he looks down at the city of Troy burning to the ground is horribly distressing – bellowing “Cressida!” into the air as he believes that she has brought about the end of everything he knew.  It is easy to forget that this is exactly what the serial has been working its inevitable way to; lives are readily disposed of, characters dispatched brutally, sometimes off-screen, such as with Priam and Paris, and the fate of Cassandra is inevitable.  It seems a bitter pill to swallow.

Vicki’s exit seems somehow strange, though – although it was equally inevitable, the Doctor seems rather blasé about it at first.  Her fate is to remain with Troilus, and create the tales which are still told to this day, yet what makes it truly heartbreaking is that, as the Doctor and the wounded Steven, along with Katarina, stumble into the TARDIS and disappear, Vicki is left to be with her true love – yet he cannot trust her.  He genuinely believes her to have caused the fall of Troy and the House of Priam, but she persuades him that all is not lost.

The oddest thing about this serial, though, is the character of Katarina.  After all that the crew have faced in this serial, it is Katarina that is used to replace Vicki – despite her only arriving some five minutes before the end of the serial and barely speaking.  Her purpose, of course, is intended for The Daleks’ Master Plan, the epic 12-part adventure which follows this serial, but regardless it all seems rather odd.  To some extent, she is a very primitive Jamie McCrimmon – her lack of understanding of science leads her to believe that she has died and is being transferred to the next world in this “blue temple”.  Her naivety is wonderfully touching.

And so the Greeks are victorious, the Trojans paying the cost of not listening to Cassandra’s predictions, and the TARDIS crew, with newly joined Katrina and mortally-wounded Steven, head off on their own Mission to the Unknown, with the Doctor aware that it is essential that they get Steven the technologically advanced medicine that he so desperately needs...