The Faceless Ones

 My biggest difficulty in this mammoth task – that of re-watching, and then blogging, each and every Doctor Who serial in order, including the missing serials – is not that which I had expected.  It is not one of recon-fatigue, but a simple lack of time.  Of course, I have a real job, in the real world.  This real job, teaching English and Drama in a Private School, is a time-consuming one, using up almost every waking moment of my time.  As such, during term-time, I lose evenings, weekends and even some of my holiday time to lesson planning, rehearsals, marking and choreography.  As such, come term-time, the entire project has to come to a screeching halt.  The problem with this, though, is that my notes for the latest blog – Patrick Troughton’s The Faceless Ones, for those keeping count – were written at the end of the October half term, but never made it onto the computer.  As such, page after page of blurred notes with bullet-point, throw-away phrases mean almost nothing to me.  Still, this entry will try to make sense of that nonsense.  Wish me luck.

The principle issue that most fans have with this serial is simply that it is not completely available in visual form; the entire thing exists in an audio format, but with only two existing episodes – indeed, the two least interesting episodes, judging by what we know from the soundtracks – it is difficult to judge how successful it is.  Likewise, in a series of short and snappy serials like The Underwater Menace and The Macra Terror, it seems a little sluggish at times.  Running at 6 episodes, compared with the majority of the season running at 4, it seems like there is almost not enough storyline to fill the time.  Of course, we know that this is an issue of necessity; The Underwater Menace went notoriously over-budget, and so The Faceless Ones, which is surprisingly restrained by early Doctor Who standards, makes full use instead of the opportunity to use location filming, and so we end up with lots of running around on tarmac and inside the main terminal buildings.  Costumes are naturalistic, due to the time setting, which means that few costumes and props need creating for this serial, minimising the cost here.  But despite the slower pace, this isn’t a bad serial at all.  Indeed, it’s an interesting premise handled admirably. 

Episode 1 opens with the stunning and iconic scene with yon “flying beastie!” looming up over our intrepid travellers, as Hines’ Jamie McCrimmon, out of his own time, is faced by the magic of the aircraft.  The use of genuine footage, as opposed to stock footage, is wonderful, although the cross editing does leave a little to be desired – there is evidently no threat to the TARDIS, and whilst Jamie’s terror is understandable, the fear in the rest of the crew is less clear.  The excellence of Jamie’s character, though, lies in these little moments which refer back to his history.  The Doctor has never had a companion from Earth’s history before, with the exception of Katarina, who joined the crew in the last five minutes of The Myth Makers and proceeded to wander around aimlessly as though she were tripping on acid, before dying during the very next serial.  As such, what Jamie allows is for the audience to understand the events through the eyes of the companion.  Unlike with contemporary companions, for whom the audience previously was able to see the events and understand them, Jamie allows the show to return somewhat to its educational remit; his lack of understanding of even the most basic things allows us to appreciate the wonder behind them.

Within moments, however, not only have the crew scattered away from the airplane looming over them, they come face-to-face with some of London’s finest, and upon the orders of the Doctor, they swiftly “scatter!”  Ben, for some unknown reason, runs directly at the police officer, whilst the other three run in approximately the same direction away from him.  Cutting away to the Commandant, we are given the chance to fully appreciate the superb scale allowed by filming at Gatwick airport; everything seems so vast, and cutting between our heroes and their pursuers, to these enormous offices and overbearing hangars creates a grand scale rarely seen before in the show.  Colin Gordon is wonderful as the Commandant, and from the very first appearance we can see the potential allowed by such a part – a fastidious and slightly doddery official, the type of character Troughton’s Doctor has been intentionally mocking since his first serial as the Second Doctor.  Whilst Hartnell’s Doctor was stubborn and had a tendency to mock official people, Troughton is intentionally anti-establishment, and as such a run-in is inevitable. 

Before that, though, we follow the fates of the disparate group of time travellers.  With Ben hiding out in a hangar and Troughton and Jamie hiding behind two massive plane wheels, we cut to Polly, who instigates the entire story by hiding in Chameleon Tours’ hangar, witnessing the execution of a man.  When she returns to the Doctor, finding him and Jamie still beneath the wheels, it is a strong moment of foreshadowing when she questions “But where’s... what about Ben...?”  And this brings me to my biggest issue with The Faceless Ones.

Ultimately, The Faceless Ones is a companion-led story.  Rather than leading the story, though, it is a functional story for us to bid farewell to Polly and Ben.  Whilst they have not been around too long, they are memorable as companions for the simple fact that they were there during the first ever regeneration.  This momentous occasion was witnessed by these two hip and cool kids from London in the swinging sixties.  As such, they helped the audience to bridge the gap between Hartnell and Troughton, facilitating the change and allowing us to better understand what happened.  With the arrival of Jamie in The Highlanders, though, these two lost all purpose.  They are no longer our eyes and ears.  Instead, they are simply cluttering up the TARDIS.  When they arrived, they were evidently realised as replacements for Ian and Barbara – like anyone could replace Ian and Barbara! – and so were written as  accidental travellers, desperate to get home.  Here, then, they get to return home, and whilst their farewell story is nowhere near as ignominious as Dodo’s, which also served as Ben and Polly’s introduction, let’s not forget, it still does not do credit to these faithful wanderers through time and space.  In fact, it is even more telling of their unimportance as characters that they are even returned to Earth on the very day that they left – as far as the world is concerned, these two have never been anywhere or done anything of any significance.

The villains of the piece, the Faceless Ones of the title, are not seen until the cliffhanger of this first part.  Instead, we are treated to the crisply-spoken menace of Blade and Spencer, played with smashing menace by Donald Pickering and Victor Winding.  After executing the Detective Inspector, Winding’s Spencer calls up Pickering’s Captain Blade to report the situation, telling him that the man discovered “the postcards”, which, at this stage in the serial, seems like the most incongruous and ridiculous sentence imaginable.  Of course, via their superb CCTV system, the pair then witness the Doctor, Jamie and Polly searching the body, where we are informed that the weapon used to kill him was a ray gun capable of electrocuting, rather than a standard gun.  The fact that Troughton refers to the singed clothing hints at something horrific which we don’t get to see – and also foreshadows the appearance of the eponymous Faceless Ones, as we can imagine the singed flesh of DI Gascoigne. 

After this comes one of the most telling scenes in the entire serial, and one which reinforces my point about the unfair treatment of Polly and Ben – Ben has not been seen since the beginning of the story, and here we have the Doctor and Jamie, walking side-by-side, chattering away like best of friends while Polly is picked off from the back of the group, without the other two even noticing.  After three serials in which Jamie has done nothing but protect Polly, it is almost as though Hines has realised that without them gone he gets given far more to do, and so turns a blind eye as Spencer picks her up and takes her away.  When they discuss Polly’s fate, however, an interesting line comes – “We’ll gain nothing by questioning her”.  It is as though the cast and crew themselves realise that she is now an irrelevance, and whilst the Doctor and Jamie do return to search for her, they very promptly give up and leave to speak to the authorities, without so much as opening a packing crate or looking behind some boxes.

The scenes in the airport proper are magnificent, as the Doctor and Jamie wander the corridors of the arrivals lounge.  Hines’ open-mouthed wonder is perfectly delivered as he paces back and forth, agog.  To see the Doctor – Troughton’s Doctor, no less – being wrapped up the mundane nonsense of bureaucracy is fantastic, as is Jamie’s failure to understand the social norms of the time.  Similarly, during the report to the Commandant, Jamie spills the truth – “he was electrocuted.  With a ray gun!” – in such a smug and self-assured way that we cannot help but admire his enthusiasm.  Of course, he is undermining the realism of the story; in a show like Doctor Who, we can take the story with a pinch of salt, as we have followed the adventurers through time and space – a well-spoken man with a ray gun is nothing to us.  For the Commandant, though, it is all too preposterous, and yet Jamie, who takes all of this in his stride, doesn’t seem to get that; he has seen flying metal birds with people in them today, so that’s nothing.  Here, Hulke and Ellis, the writers, achieve a wonderful balance, between what we take for granted, the modern miracles, and those fantastic elements of futurism. 

The first appearance of the arm of one of the Faceless Ones shows some magnificent makeup, which is exceptionally effective, and the interruption from the Doctor, Jamie and the Commandant again allows some levity – seeing Troughton crawling about on hands and knees with a magnifying glass under the feet of the officials is fantastic.  Seeing Blade and Spencer escorting one of the Chameleons up an escalator is again horrific, as we have the juxtaposition of the normal and the monstrous, and those final moments consolidate that fear – the crispy, featureless face, bobbing frantically on slumped shoulders as though struggling to breathe, is one of the most horrific images in the series up to this point.

The brief moment in episode 1 where the Doctor and Jamie meet Polly again brings me to my second issue with this serial, and this one is harder to ignore.  The entire premise of the Chameleons’ scheme is utterly ridiculous, for two reasons.  Likewise, Blade and Spencer, whilst they are chilling and dastardly, are two of the most incompetent bad guys ever.  The postcard scam makes no sense.  The idea that they are kidnapping entire air-craft filled with passengers makes no sense.  And the stupidest thing of all is that not only do they not kill the Doctor when they have the chance, they instead kidnap one of his companions, seemingly brainwash her (poor Polly, second serial in a row!) and then return her to the airport, in her original clothes, to work on the front desk of Chameleon Tours, no less, with a foreign name.  So when the Doctor and Jamie inevitably turn up – they are investigating the company, lest we forget – they are confronted by someone who not only looks exactly like Polly, is dressed exactly like Polly was before she disappeared and, to make matters worse, sounds exactly like Polly despite allegedly being Swiss and called Michelle!

Of course, it isn’t really her.  Instead, it’s a Chameleon who has assimilated her appearance, and the scene later in episode 2 where Ben finds her lying, motionless, in a box, is fairly horrible.  But the trouble is that we have another episode in the airport, of the group running around, with not much happening in the meantime.  Episode two is almost entirely filler – we see Meadows’ transference and the Chameleon replacement going out to work in his stead – and a rather enjoyable moment where his vocal chords are fine-tuned.  There’s the fantastic moment where Ben, Jamie and the Doctor are reunited in a photo booth and they have to fake a cheesy smile.  But the escape from the police and security group at the airport is all a little camp and silly for me – Hines’ narration on the audio reports that, at one point, they are hiding behind newspapers which are not only “foreign – it is also upside down”.  This may have been a great visual gag.  Sadly, with only the soundtrack to base it upon, the action falls a little flat.

What the soundtrack does allow, however, is for the incidental music to come to the fore, and the stock music used here is superb, really setting the mood.  From what we can see, in episodes 1 and 3, the direction is clever and fast-paced, with Gerry Mill electing to use varied angles and a touch of deep-focus photography to make the story move along at an interesting, if slightly slow, pace.  And the performances are consistently good, with one possible exception – Pauline Collins, whose appearance as Samantha Briggs allegedly led to the production team offering her a role as a companion full-time.  Her accent alone would make this unthinkable – let us not forget poor Dodo Chaplet, who lost her accent within moments of being in the TARDIS – but more on her as we look at episode 3.

Once the Doctor and Jamie are caught again, though, we have the frankly disturbing moment where the Doctor pretends that a rubber ball in his pocket is a bomb.  Now, this speaks volumes of the world in which we live nowadays that no one – literally no one – can make this type of joke.  People are arrested for even the slightest suggestion of such an action.  In the meantime, this is the last we see of Ben and Polly – although they have a seen in episode 6 wherein they wave farewell to the Doctor and Jamie which was pre-recorded.  This then is their final day working for Doctor Who.  What makes this all the more tragic though is that it is actually a very strong episode for Michael Craze.  He looks like he’s about to save the day, stumbling upon the plot accidentally as he hides within the Chameleon Tours hangar – they really should lock that door, shouldn’t they?! – and returns later, discovering Polly asleep in a crate.  Sadly, though, he is instantly shot with a stun gun, and the same fate awaits him; he is written out with not a bang, but a whimper. 

Oh, and episode 2 features the new theme tune...!  So... yeah...

Episode 3 moves – yay! – so we at least have the benefit of judging this one based on action, rather than simply by telesnaps and audio tracks.  The episode opens where the last left, with Troughton becoming overcome by fumes after getting trapped within the hangar, but his escape is rather ingenious, feigning unconsciousness before turning the ray gun on his attacker.  The scene in which Spenser is staring, vacantly, into the camera before regaining his senses is wonderfully chilling.

These scenes are intercut with Crossland – played with wonderful ‘boys’ own’ charm by Bernard Kay – dealing with Jamie and Samantha.  Pauline Collins’ character is something of an oddity though – she is evidently designed by the writers to be a replacement companion, and her banter with Jamie is excellent, as she coaxes him into keeping her company on her separate investigation.  Her investigative skills are the way in which the group manages to unravel the secret of the postcard scam, and her shrugging away of Jamie’s arm when he attempts to console her shows a depth to her which many female characters in Doctor Who are usually lacking. 

What The Faceless Ones does marvellously is cement the plot devices which become synonymous with Pertwee’s era of Doctor Who.  Whilst Hulke will later write for the show alone – and his serials also feature themes which this puts out the groundwork for, which we’ll discuss nearer the end of this blog – here he introduces the Doctor fighting endless pen-pushing and bureaucracy.  Even when the Commandant finally accepts certain truths within the Doctor’s story, he still pushes the subject of the Doctor’s immigrant status and lack of passport. 

As Blade, Donald Pickering’s delivery is smashing, and the crisp and calm delivery of two of his best lines come in this episode; “You Earthmen are more use to us alive” and then my personal favourite, in response to Crossland’s mention of the long arm of the law – “I don’t think it will reach where you’re going” – are cracking.  There is a disturbing undertone to this serial, and one which has rarely been exploited by the show in all of its time; the concept of CCTV is one which provides a chilling criticism of modern society in general, and here in episode 3 it is particularly pertinent.  In episode 2, we watched Troughton watching Ben on CCTV as he was attacked, and the Doctor couldn’t help.  

Here, though, we watch Spenser as he watches the Doctor collapse in the hangar.  There is a bizarre sense of impotence and voyeurism throughout, as we watch people watching others.  The panning camera through the cabin of the aircraft is handled wonderfully by Gerry Mill, although it is ridiculous, of course.  Who exactly is manipulating the camera in the cabin, particularly as it is a diegetic image within the plot framework as we watch Crossland watching the footage.

Episode 4 is once again missing and we are back to audio files and telesnaps.  This is something of a shame, particularly in the case of the cliffhanger here, which frankly sounds incredible, as the ship suddenly converts itself into a space rocket before bursting upwards into outer space.  What we cannot see, and therefore are left to wonder at, is the balking stupidity of Spenser.  After his ridiculous comments about interviews and his inability to kill anyone in the last few weeks, here Hulke and Ellis take it up a notch by having him commit a James Bond-esque murder, with a laser gun slowly moving towards him.  And then he doesn’t even hang around to watch!  It’s ridiculous, and frustrating, but we can only imagine how silly it looked.  And they get saved by Samantha, too!  Go, girl! Of course, it’s playing on the arch stereotype that all women are vain and carry mirrors around, but even so, it saves their lives, deflecting the laser beam away.

Very little else really happens in episode 4 – there’s an action sequence involving an RAF fighter jet which sounds exciting, but we can’t see.  There’s Jamie kissing Samantha to distract her while he steals her ticket.  In fact, probably the highlight of this episode – besides the plane turning into a rocket – is probably the fact that Jamie’s courage knows no bounds.  He is even willing to go in one of the things which, three episodes earlier, terrified him.

Everything finally seems to come to some form of resolution in episode 5, though, and the plot begins to ratchet up to speed.  Via some fascinating exposition, we learn a great deal about the alien invaders.  Indeed, we learn that this slow invasion of theirs – which requires 50,000 bodies! – is the result of horrific mutilations and we end up feeling sympathy for The Faceless Ones.  Whilst they may have murdered a few people, including DI Gascoigne, and kidnapped thousands of others, including Brian Briggs, they are ultimately rather pathetic and desperate.  And this is the Hulke formula, one which he will perfect whilst writing for Pertwee; as we see in his later serials Doctor Who and the Silurians, The Ambassadors of Death and The Sea Devils, the concept of misunderstood alien species needing human assistance is further developed.  Here, though, we can tell that Hulke is in the early stages of his career writing for Doctor Who, though.  Typically, Hulke does long stories well – he co-wrote The War Games! – and also does the slow-burn of stories effectively.  Here, though, it just seems a little ropier than in his later scripts, far less honed.  This is proto-Hulke, rather than Hulke at his finest, but he’s still using those ideals he would assimilate into his finest scripts.

Episode 5 also has the horrific image of the drawers filled with dolls, each representing one of the missing people.  As the story continues at this increased pace, we discover the true reason for the aliens’ disfigured appearances, as well as the appearance of DI Crossland, in fact the Director of the Chameleons.  The scenes between the Doctor and Nurse Pinto have been fantastic across the last two episodes, and now they have managed to infiltrate the space station, pretending to be Chameleons.   After four episodes to-ing and fro-ing back and forth in Gatwick, it’s nice that we’re finally treated to a change in scenery with the space station, which sounds fantastic through the use of stock music, tinkling and twinkling away eerily as the Doctor wanders the corridors.

One niggling thing which confuses me somewhat about episode 5 is the way in which the replicas retain all their memories, and yet lose their accent.  Now, it is chilling, seeing Kay return to his traditional received pronunciation.  Even more unnerving is seeing Hines, whose natural Scottish brogue we have become readily accustomed to over the past few weeks, suddenly speaking in a Standard English accent.  But it once again undermines the entire plot; there’s a lovely touch where the Chameleon replacement knows more about the man’s life than his record shows.  Despite this, they do not assimilate the accent of their victims, undermining any potential infiltration of their real lives.

The cliffhanger at the end of episode 5 sounds utterly horrifying, particularly through the description of the oncoming creatures as being in their “raw state” as they surround Nurse Pinto and the Doctor.  Episode 6, meanwhile, finally sees the story reach its conclusion.  With Crossland actually the Director of the Chameleons, and the Doctor now trapped with them on the space station, there suddenly seems to be a sense of urgency, one which has sadly been lacking in the last two episodes.  As the Doctor holds the threat of death over them – with the doubles discovered in the back of cars, randomly dotted around, by every member of staff from the airport – the Doctor is now able to endanger their lives, and so instead the Chameleons step back and scuttle away, their tails between their legs.  Of course, the idea of debate, rather than all-out war, is very Malcolm Hulke.  Indeed, this is proto-Pertwee at its finest, with the Doctor desperate to embark upon negotiations rather than actually harm anyone. 

But that’s the problem.  It’s not really a pay-off like we’d expect; there is no big bang, no ethical dilemma forcing the Doctor to choose.  Instead, for one time only, we get negotiations... and they stick to them.  The Doctor and the humans and the aliens all make an agreement, and stick to it.  It all seems rather anticlimactic, somehow.  We’ve come to expect certain things of the show, but what is telling is that still, even now, the show is forcing us to question where it is headed.  Even now, nearly at the end of the fourth season, we don’t know exactly what is happening, and where we are going.  Troughton is still making his mark on the show, shaking off the last vestiges of Hartnell’s tenure.

Speaking of shaking off the last of Hartnell’s tenure, though, we come to the last ten minutes.  And here we are reunited with Ben and Polly, just in time for the end of the story.  We leave the Commandant and the real Crossland together to “tidy up”, and the Doctor and his companions return to the airport to collect the TARDIS before a convoluted farewell is uttered to Ben and Polly, after a touching goodbye to Samantha, the Companion who never was.  As I said earlier, the scene is better than we were given with Dodo, but even so it seems rushed and unfair given all that these two have been through with the Doctor.  The realisation of the date – “July the 20^th 1966, to be precise” – smacks of lazy writing, but what is terrific is that this swiftly becomes the busiest day in Doctor Who history.  Not only is July 20^th 1966 the day when Britain is attacked by The War Machines and The Faceless Ones, but also the first stop in a new adventure with the Daleks.

And so, Ben leaves to become and Admiral.  Polly leaves to cook him dinner and have babies and other girly things. And Jamie and the Doctor are off on a new adventure, off to find the TARDIS, wherever it may be.

The Macra Terror

The Macra Terror introduces the ‘terrifying’ eponymous creatures, who since have briefly appeared in the revived series – in an appearance utterly redundant to the plot, mind – and sees the time travellers arrive within a seemingly utopian society, run much like a 1950s holiday camp.  If The Moonbase was a serial for Anneke Wills to really expand on her character, then The Macra Terror does the same for Michael Craze’s character Ben.  The Macra Terror is also the very first serial to feature the Doctor's face in the opening credits - again, it a shame we don't get to see this is in action until the first episode of the next serial, which at least exists.

The colony is a suspicious place, and from the telesnaps we can tell that the visuals are superb – the set and costume design is marvellous, and the use of the incidental music, whilst mildly jarring, fits wonderfully with the setting – it is cheery, upbeat, and so fits the jovial atmosphere perfectly.  The first thing welcoming the Doctor and his crew is the distraught Medok, played with bleary-eyed enthusiasm by Terence Lodge.  Medok is being pursued by Ola and the guards, and thanks to the distraction of the new arrivals he is captured for reprogramming in the correctional facility – “for your own good”.  It is the first of many clues that not all is well in this colony – despite the cheerful facade and fun and frivolity, something is decidedly wrong here.

The colony operates as a perfect utopia, where all involved are happy to work – for work helps the colony, so all can be happy.  This idyll is overseen by Ola, the chief of the security forces here, and the Pilot.  Both are overseen by the Controller, an Orwellian leader in the vein of Big Brother.  Upon arrival within the colony, where they are welcomed and heralded for their assistance in the capture of the rebellious Medok, the group are taken to the ‘Refreshment Area’, where they are provided with fresh clothes and a rejuvenated appearance.  There is a nifty continuity bit here, though, with Anneke Wills’ haircut being hidden with hair extensions until this opening episode.  The Doctor, however, is far less pleased with his new spick-and-span appearance, and there is some wonderful comedy when he steps into the “rough and tumble” machine to return to his previous appearance.

Fraser Hines, as Jamie, is given some wonderful characterisation in the serial, too, as he is naturally predisposed to judging the seemingly perfect society, and his paranoia about the environment and the people is played marvellously.  The dystopian theme is made blatant to the viewer, too; we, as do Jamie and the Doctor, feel uncomfortable here, and it is predominantly thanks to the superb script by Ian Stuart Black; the juxtaposition of the seeming idyllic lifestyle with phrasing such as “It is a privilege to work!” and the decision that they are to be “confined” for “happy sleep time”.  There is an underlying menace made through the clear emphasis placed on certain words and phrases.  Likewise, after the travellers are confined to their beds, the Controller’s demands that the guards go out to find the newly escaped Medok – again, thanks to the Doctor – and Ola’s order that they “shoot to kill” further highlights the threat.

Meanwhile, the Doctor has slipped from his confinement and is searching the building areas for Medok, who he spotted hiding earlier on.  He is aware of the danger to the colony, and needs desperately to speak to Medok to confirm his fears.  The final moments of the episode see the final reveal of the claw of the Macra – and this is where my only real issue with this serial arises; after the cliffhanger at the end of The Moonbase, where the TARDIS crew saw the claw appearing, almost an identical cliffhanger arises here at the end of episode 1 – and indeed, a very similar cliffhanger is used at the end of episode 2, but with Ben and Polly in danger, and episode 3 sees an identical one again, this time on a TV screen in the room with the Controller.

Episode 2 sees the propaganda of the colony ratchet up even further into darker realms with the subconscious and soothing voice muttering empty promises and subliminal messages of the ‘deep sleep thinking’.  As Ben, Jamie and Polly sleep in their rooms, gas seeps in and the calming voice of Richard Beale tells them to “obey”, and the way in which the two male companions react to it is fascinating; whilst Jamie is unable to sleep, aware of the evil intentions of the calming voice, we are forced to realise that, as he is from ‘the past’, he is close-minded.  He cannot be controlled, and is slightly unknowable, much like the Doctor himself.  Ben, meanwhile, has an institutionalised mind anyway, as he is from a naval background which sees him spend his life following orders and acting within the boundaries of the status quo.  It is natural, then, that the hypnotism works on him.

And again, this is where Michael Craze is really able to come into his own; everything about his portrayal of Ben changes with the slightest nuances – his accent loses its broadness, his inflections alter ever so slightly.  Although we can’t see him in action, as the episode is missing, from the stills available it looks like he even holds himself differently.  It’s magnificent – his character growth continues in the next two episodes too, as he tries to fight his ‘reprogramming’ and yet betrays his friends and everything he previously held dear to him, but the change in his voice means we are able to hear him desperately fighting it – he questions the frivolity of the Doctor, and his antiestablishment message, and reports his friends for the damage and refusal to follow the colony line, but we can hear how much it cuts him up inside all the same.

Troughton’s on top form here, too – since his arrival, we could tell that he was a rebel, and against the establishment.  The Macra Terror gives him the perfect platform to expound his own mantras – “bad rules are made to be broken”, he says in episode 4, but it isn’t just rules he looks to break.  The genuine pleasure he feels when he destroys the technology of the deep sleep thinking programming is wonderful, and the fact that he impresses himself is beautifully played.  The faith that the simply boy from the past has in him is lovely, too – Hines plays Jamie as virtuous and faithful, and it is no wonder that he went on to be the companion to Troughton’s Doctor for the rest of his tenure; their relationship is cemented here, as he extols “I take orders from no-one but the Doctor”.

The scenes in which Ben pursues Polly through the camp are troubling – thanks to his hypnotic reprogramming, we can’t be sure exactly how he’ll react once he catches here, but as the two become surrounded by the Macra, Craze’s portrayal is superb; whilst Polly simply screams a lot, Ben desperately fights his programming, which clearly states that “There are no Macra!” but the evidence of his own eyes causes him huge concern.  It’s a lovely moment, and one which is made all the better by his decision to send Polly off, whilst he stays and fights to keep her safe.  Despite the control held over him, he still cherishes her safety over that of his own.

The final scenes, where Ben denies the existence of the Macra despite the incidents in the building site are offset by the sudden discovery that the Macra are in charge – whilst the audience have been able to predict as much all along, particularly due to the Controller only ever being visible as a photograph, with the Big Brother style liturgy being pumped out at full blast, and the underlying menace of the ‘happy’ vocabulary, the reveal of the frail old man, menaced over by a gigantic claw, is still rather shocking. 

Episode 3 sees the Doctor and his companions sent to work on “the Danger Gang”, down in the mines where people are sent to work until their death when reprogramming proves an invalid form of control.  There, they are reunited with Medok, and, overseen by the Officia, played by John Harvey.  Harvey is wonderful – as with Peter Jeffrey as the Pilot, they represent the real danger of this dystopian society, good men who do bad things because they think it is right.  The Officia sends the group down into the gas mines, leaving the Doctor top-side in the control room as their overseer.  Jamie and Polly are swiftly able to relieve the Officia of his keys, though, and Jamie sneaks away with Medok into the Old Shaft, where it is prohibited for colonists to enter.  Sadly, Medok is swiftly dispatched by a rampaging Macra claw, though, and Jamie is alone, face-to-face with an apparently dormant creature.

Troughton is wonderful in his scenes with the chalk, as he mentally decodes a system which the colony computers had taken years to work out; there is no doubt that the Doctor is still the genius he seemed to be as Hartnell, which makes him all the more unreliable, as a genius with no respect for authority is a dangerous thing indeed.  The moment that he gives himself 10/10 for his workings and then, gleefully, changes it to 11/10 when he discovers how difficult the workings allegedly were, is hilarious. 

Despite his conditioning, Ben still helps his friends though – having seen the Officia have his keys swiped, he does not report them.  When questioned on this, he simply responds that he doesn’t know why he didn’t report.  This scene echoes an almost identical one in Ian Stuart Black’s last script, The War Machines, where it was Polly who had been hypnotised, and allowed Ben’s escape.  Craze, though, gets far more to do on an emotional level – we can hear the confusion in his voice and it is tearing him apart.

The Controller orders the gas to be diverted into the Old Shaft, where Jamie is currently hiding, and it allows the Doctor to finally realise the importance of the gas to the colonists – the Macra thrive on it; like a bacteria, they are hiding beneath the surface, feeding on the gas to give them the strength for their brief forays to the surface.  As the gas is diverted, the slumbering giant awakens and begins to terrorise Jamie, and it is a race against time for the Doctor to save him.  The cliffhanger motif is repeated once more, as a gigantic claw looms over Jamie.

Episode 4 sees Troughton at his most rebellious and dangerous – the glee that we can hear in his voice as he takes tremendous pleasure in damaging the circuitry and rerouting gas is palpable, and the fury of the colonists is marvellous too; they refuse to believe in the Macra, thanks to their programming, and as such see no reason for this level of wanton destruction.  The Doctor’s meddling does, of course, save Jamie, as he diverts the outflow and inflow pipes to pump oxygen into the shaft, forcing the Macra to return to its weakened slumber.  The Doctor’s attempts to persuade Polly that there is no danger – “There’s no need to be afraid... at least, I think there’s no need...” is brilliant, but again we’re given the idea that this Doctor, for all of his clear intellect and cunning, is doing everything on a wing and a prayer.  He’s always the man with the plan, now, but there’s always a sense that the outcome is pure luck.

Jamie finally escapes the Old Shaft and runs straight into a group of cheerleaders rehearsing for their rousing show that evening.  The mantras of the society are never as chilling as they are here, though, cried with exultant glee by skimpily dressed colonists who genuinely believe in all that they are saying.  His escape from them, under the guise of a dancer, sounds like tremendous fun, and again, it is a travesty that this episode is missing – likewise for the final scenes in which the TARDIS crew all dance their way to freedom, it sounds marvellous.

The Doctor and Polly have discovered the truth, meanwhile, having followed a system of pipes down to the Control Room, where a white Macra presides, issuing orders over the sound system.  Miraculously, the Doctor manages to break the conditioning of the Pilot – although quite how he manages it so quickly is beyond me, considering the number of years he has no doubt been under the influence of it – and he persuades the Pilot to follow him to see the truth of the Macra infestation.  The horror in Peter Jeffrey’s voice sells his conviction wonderfully – we can fully believe that this is a man who realises that almost his entire life has been a sham, and he has been duped from the outset. 

One of the most chilling things about this final episode, though, is the voice of the control, played with chilling precision by Denis Goacher.  The previous calm is gradually distorted as it realises exactly what Ben is doing – the childish pleas for help, the very insistence that they stop doing what they are doing because the Macra hasn’t commanded it, is horrifying.  Finally able to see clearly, having broken his conditioning once and for all, Ben aids the Doctor with transferring the gas flows into the Control Centre, causing an explosion which kills the Macra – amidst pleas such as “It is forbidden to touch that instrument! You must not obey the Doctor! You will kill us all! He intends to create an explosion!” an explosion rips the heart of the colony apart, freeing all of the inhabitants there.

With the Macra destroyed, the colony reverts to a celebratory mood – much like the opening scenes, there is music and partying and fun, only this time it seems genuine.  Even the Doctor is getting involved, for once hanging around for the thanks of the colonists.  It is only when he is informed by Ben that “they’re going to draft us as members of the Colony – and make you the next Pilot!” he decides to take the group back to the comparative safety of the TARDIS, and following Jamie’s lead, the group dance their way back to the ship.

Whilst it is difficult to say with absolute certainty, due to the missing nature of the visuals, I would like to argue that The Macra Terror is possibly one of the finest Doctor Who serials, certainly of the 1960s if not ever.  The script is superb – the satire is perfectly well-handled by Ian Stuart Black – and the performances from the guest cast are sublime, too.  There is not one faulted performances throughout, and Michael Craze and Troughton have rarely been on such top form yet.  The incidental music was sublime, jarring and unnerving whilst being disgustingly saccharine at the same time, in perfect keeping with the supposed idyll of the Colony.  The set design, and costume design too, were uniformly excellent, and although the appearance of the Macra may have let the serial down in some regards, as how successfully achieved they are is unclear, the director clearly had a talent for keeping things suitably dark and mysterious, wreathed in fog, and one can only imagine how excellent this lost masterpiece truly is.

The Moonbase

Ah, The Moonbase.  A serial which sets out the template for the next few seasons, sees the return of the Cybermen, and firmly plants Troughton’s portrayal of the Doctor, providing a concrete template for the way in which our impish hero will behave forever.  This serial has always been my favourite of all of the Cybermen stories, and that is no mean feat, considering it is missing 2 of the 4 episodes.  Written by Kit Pedler, the co-creator of the Cybermen who worked on The Tenth Planet, it sees our time travellers arrive not on an alien planet, but on the moon.  The moon!  That big satellite up in the sky, the one which we see every night before we go to bed; and it’s brilliant.  Considering Pedler was a scientist – of sorts, at least – the science here is surprisingly ridiculous.  Anyhow, let’s get on with this...

Continuing on from closing scenes of The Underwater Menace, the TARDIS is out of control, and is forced to crash land; having been aimed at Mars, the Doctor misses his target by some “200,000,000 miles” and the crew don spacesuits to leave the craft and have a jolly old time of it out on the lunar surface.  It takes some persuading, mind, as the Doctor was eager to leave straight away, but he is eventually coerced into giving the crew “shore leave”.  The TARDIS ‘family’ unit is still firmly in place, and the group sound like they’re having marvellous fun as the bounce around in reduced gravity – although the incidental music to accompany these jumps are rather strange and out of place.  Whilst this episode no longer exists, the telesnaps, as well as the footage existent in episodes 2 and 4, show how magnificent the model work and set design is.

On the eponymous Moonbase, meanwhile, a plague has broken out, striking down their doctor and several other men.  When the Doctor and his companions arrive, with Jamie having suffered a concussion whilst enjoying the moon-based frivolity, the group are welcomed with surprisingly open arms.  Considering the importance of the work that the scientists do on the moon, controlling the weather across all of the Earth, the security is surprisingly lax, and the way in which Hobson and his men welcome the travellers with open arms, and no questions, is bizarre.  Still, after the last ‘base under siege’ serial, which softly felt-out the correct way in which these dramas should work (The Tenth Planet) it is comforting to see the group settle so quickly into their environments, and be accepted so easily – Hobson has a genial, tired expression of acceptance, a very stark contrast to that of Cutler in The Tenth Planet.

 

Troughton’s performance in this first episode is wonderful – both deadly serious and hilariously comical, and again assures us, the viewers, that this is how he will stay from now on – after the fluctuation in his performances up to now, we see that the Doctor of The Underwater Menace is Troughton’s definitive Doctor.  His constant interruptions of the exhausted Hobson are brilliant, as he craves their attention and a formal introduction. 

As I mentioned, the lack of security upheld on the base is shocking; in fact, at one point, whilst trying to report their difficulties back to Earth, the scientists realise that they are being monitored by playing back their transmission.  What is most baffling about these scientists is the very nonchalant way in which they report that it is coming from “someone not too far from this base”, and yet still do not question the Doctor’s arrival – not yet, anyway.

With Jamie pretty much unconscious for the entire episode, we are able still to gain a little knowledge of his character regardless; his semi-coherent ramblings about the “piper” of his clan’s history is a lovely little nod to his background – whilst he has settled into the TARDIS crew quickly, he still upholds his time of origin, and is still a strong character despite his illness.  Confined as he is to the sick bay, he is waited on by a concerned Polly;  And this is really Anneke Wills’ serial.  Whilst the last serial allowed Troughton to confirm his identity, The Moonbase does the same for Wills’ Polly.  Whilst during the first and second episode, she does little more than scream and act as a caring nurse, we get to see her truly compassionate side.  As for her character development – well, more on that later...

The first episode provides the eagle-eyed viewers, or listener in this case, plenty of information to assimilate and to come up with clear predictions; the references to drops in air pressure seems offhand and irrelevant, yet it is too conspicuously placed in the streams of dialogue to be irrelevant.  Likewise, the references to the “rats” in the food stores moving supplies around, and Ralph’s subsequent disappearance, are too important not to note, and indeed, to draw connections.  Similarly, the references to the “silver hand” in Dr. Evans’ delirious state moments before his disappearance allow us to predict exactly who it is responsible; admittedly, most people’s chance to experience this serial is through Gerry Davis’ superb novelisation, entitled “Doctor Who and the Cybermen”, whereby removing any suspense. 

The cliffhanger, though, hangs on Polly’s recognition of the Cyberman’s build, and the removal of Evans’ body.  What this does, though, is to create a sense of mythos and scope to the character.  This story is set on the moon in 2070, and yet it openly references itself and the actions of the characters back in The Tenth Planet.  When Polly tells Hobson et al that it was a Cyberman that she saw, he pooh-poohs her, telling her that “There were Cybermen – every child knows that – but they were destroyed ages ago.”  Whilst the Doctor and his group are not name-checked, their actions have gone down in history.  They did that, they stopped the Cyberman invasion!  It also leads into the speech which is quintessentially Doctorish, with Troughton delivering one of the most infamous speeches of Doctor Who history – “There are some corners of the universe which have bred the most terrible things. Things which act against everything that we believe in; they must be fought.”  It is a magnificent tour-de-force speech, and one which epitomises everything that the Doctor stands for, and his entire motivation.

Finally, though, despite the Doctor’s speech, Hobson begins to question the presence of the travellers, and the coincidence of them being on the moon – he gives the Doctor 24 hours to deal with the plague before he forces the travellers back onto the surface of the moon, “quarantine or no quarantine”.  What this does allow, though, is a rather humorous tête-à-tête between Polly and the Doctor, giving us a little more background into the character, something which we see more of as the show progresses – his response that he “took a degree once – in Glasgow – in 1888” is delivered with a wonderful deadpan.  Also, much of Troughton’s comedy arises in this second episode, such as his collecting of samples, crawling around on his hands and knees and collecting the shoes of some of the men as they go about their business.  The tragedy of Troughton’s serials being missing is that a great deal of what makes him so good is that he is very much a visual performer; his impish movements simply cannot be done justice in audio-only format.

Again, having this serial exist helps us to realise just how wonderful this story is; the visual elements, such as the black virus throbbing and undulating up the fallen man’s arm simply couldn’t be appreciated without the visual.  Likewise, the karate-chop of the Cybermen, as seen last in The Tenth Planet, are wonderfully realised in the atmosphere of reduced gravity on the moon.  The cliffhanger, with the Doctor realising that not only is the virus being spread via the sugar but that, also, the Cybermen are inside the base, within the Medical Bay, is fantastic, and the Doctor’s dragging Hobson aside before the group move around the sick bay, tiptoeing and inspecting the sleeping patients, is very funny.

The third episode finally sees the Cybermen step to the fore after taking a very secretive, back-seat role in the first two – and along with their redesign, they also have new voices.  Whilst they are not as distorted and unnerving as the Cybermen the last time we met them, they are equally terrifying, utterly emotionless and horrifyingly abstract.  The announcement that “you are known to us” to the Doctor once more provides a certainty that this is the Doctor – as with the recognition in The Power of the Daleks, despite the change in outward appearance, the Cybermen recognise him for all that he stands for, and the threat that he represents.

Episode 3 is also where Polly really comes into her own – with Jamie still bedridden and not worthy of conversion due to his head injury, she and Ben are forced to stay within the confines of the sick bay whilst the action goes on in the central control room.  It is here, though, that she utilises all that she knows to create a concoction able to destroy the central nervous system of the Cybermen.  Using her basic knowledge of acids and alkalis, she creates her own ‘nail polisher remover’ capable of breaking down the plastic components of the Cybermen’s chest-units.

What is interesting is that, whilst Polly is proactive in saving the base, the two boys have their own private cock-fight to become alpha-male.  Whilst they tell her that “this is men’s work”, Ben and Jamie desperately vie for Polly’s attention, showing the strain that living within the TARDIS is having on the group.  What is interesting is that this is the first time that there has been any form of sexual tension within the ship – whilst there was almost certainly some form of relationship between Ian and Barbara, here we have a very definite love triangle.

The final scenes of episode 3, with the additional troops of Cybermen coming to replace the defeated invaders within the Moonbase, is incredible – the incidental music is superb, as they march across the lunar surface with deep, malevolent intent (whilst we can’t see it in the missing episode, we are fortunately able to have this recaptured in the opening of the existing episode 4.

Episode 4, existing as it does, allows us to see Troughton, once more, in his full majesty; he slips in and out of focus as he watches, contemplates and processes information.  Whilst we have no doubt that he is the lead character, he is content to float in the background simply observing.  The arrival of the ship from Earth is wonderfully realised, with all involved watching the descent of the ship with great joy – until, of course, the ‘reactivated’ Dr. Evans uses the Gravitron machine to deflect the ship away from the moon and hurtling directly into the sun.  The realisation of what is happening is grimly realised, with the scientists looking distraught and the others needing the truth of the matter fully explaining to them.  The reactivation of the scientists is horrifying too, as they proceed around in a zombie-like trance, black veins pulsating up and down their faces, throats and arms. 

The attack of the Cybermen is another example of rather dodgy science – when they puncture the dome of the Moonbase, the scientists in charge of controlling all of the Earth’s weather decide to try and block the hole with some shirts.  When that, surprisingly, doesn’t work, they decide to use the tray Polly brought the coffee in on.  The effects of the Cyberman attack is rather good, though, with the ray from their weapon bouncing off of the dome thanks to the Gravitron beam, which also provides the Doctor with a plan.

Yes, the Doctor has a plan again – once more, the situation arising allows the Doctor to create the perfect solution, although he isn’t certain that it will work.  Using sheer brute force, though, the Doctor and Hobson are able to lower the Gravitron to fire the beam directly at the lunar surface, propelling the Cybermen off into space.  What’s wonderful about this is the way in which this juxtaposes the opening sequence – even the incidental music is identical, and yet rather than the pleasure enjoyed by the Doctor, Jamie, Ben and Polly, here the image is startling; incapable of human emotions, whether fear or joy, the Cybermen float away, a grotesque parody of our opening scenes. 

 

Once the Doctor has saved the day, though, the TARDIS crew quickly slip out without receiving any thanks; instead, they bounce their way back to the ship and decide to head off to their next destination, before looking at the “time scanner”, providing a brief glimpse of the horror to come next week – a gigantic claw menaces the travellers, as the end credits roll.