Showing posts with label The Monk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Monk. Show all posts

Thursday, 30 August 2012

The Daleks' Master Plan (Episodes 8-12)


And so the 12-part epic finally draws to a close with only one of the last 5 episodes existing.  Whilst Dennis Spooner took over the reins from Nation, that he still gets a mention – “An idea by Terry Nation” – speaks volumes of the quality of this script in comparison to his earlier, and indeed his uncredited later, work on Doctor Who. 

Where this serial really falls flat is in the retreading of the old concept – The Chase did this all much earlier, and to some extent more successfully.  Whilst The Chase was not laugh-out-loud hilarious, one would expect the premise, once injected with Spooner’s humour, to provide copious giggles.  Having said that, the set pieces here are far more believable, with some entertainment mined out of the fantastic design work, as well as the performances of two of the guest actors – Kevin Stoney continues to be absolutely delightful to watch, or indeed simply to listen to, as he spirals further out of control, his deluded ravings played wonderfully.  Likewise, the reappearance of Peter Butterworth as the Monk, last seen stranded in 1066, provides some light relief.  Overall, though, episodes 7 to 10 are utterly pointless.

When making this serial 12 parts, the crew clearly believed they were making an epic piece of television, and it is;  it just isn’t a consistent one.  With the bizarre and out of place episode 7, the tone is still undecided when we pick up with episode 8.  Whilst the Daleks are back, and are genuinely chilling, the sequences involving the TARDIS crew are still rather fluffy, lightweight and comedic.  Of course, some of this comedy is intentional and clever – the scene at the cricket test match is clever, with the dry delivery of the script perfectly balanced against the very ridiculousness of the scene.  Yet the point is that the scene is ridiculous. 

The sequences with the Daleks and Trantis are superb, and re-establish the innate fear that the Daleks should instil in the viewer.  Their cool and calm exterior, as they insist that Trantis be the test subject for the destructor is chilling, and one can only imagine how the other delegates must have responded to this terrifying turn-up – they are all expendable.  To add to this, once they have realised that the taranium core is false, the Daleks exterminate Trantis anyway.  At this point, even Chen realises he is vulnerable – and as such he works harder to prove his worth.  To add to this, once they have realised that the taranium core is false, the Daleks exterminate Trantis anyway.  The Daleks summon their own time machine “immediately”, but the machine doesn’t arrive for some 5 minutes – making no sense – although this allows them further time to confront Chen, presumably to terrify him, but in fact only adding to his megalomania. 

After the cricket match scene, the TARDIS skips again, with its unknown pursuers still on their tail, this time materialising on a volcanic planet, a new planet shifting and changing beneath them.  The description is stunning, and again, without anything to see, we can only imagine just how good it looked – Camfield’s skill would undoubtedly have ensured that it looked fantastic.  As it turns out, the pursuer is none other than the Monk, turning up at the most inopportune moment for the Doctor and his companions.  The Monk has vowed vengeance after the Doctor’s little trick left him stranded in the history of the Earth, and so he decides to damage the locking mechanism of the Doctor’s TARDIS, stranding him on this newly-born planet.  The scenes between Hartnell and Butterworth are as entertaining and rewarding as any of Spooner’s dialogue from The Time Meddler, but without any of the strong plotting to support it. This all simply feels like filler – as though Spooner looked at Nation’s plot outline, and thought – “Shit, I really need to make this better.  I know – I’ll bring back the Monk!”

The Monk’s plan to do something to the lock of the TARDIS sort of makes sense, in a childish way – but here, though, it is almost perfunctory.  No sooner has he damaged the lock, the Doctor manages to fix it – also in the most ridiculously perfunctory manner; he somehow refracts the light of the sun via his ring into the TARDIS door to open it.  Now, Camfield’s direction is always sterling, so I’m sure this looked good – but based on the soundtrack alone, it’s all very redundant.  To further cement that this whole run-around has simply been additional filler, the next landing of the TARDIS crew sees them by the river Thames on New Year’s Eve, seeing in New Year’s Day – another gimmick to prove that all that is happening here is pointless frivolity. 

The cliffhanger, involving the Daleks chanting “Conquest!” repeatedly leads into the following episode nicely, with the Daleks and Chen following the Doctor and his companions to ancient Egypt.  Essentially another strand in the remake of The Chase, this one last almost two whole episodes, seeing the Doctor spend almost the entire ninth episode fixing a door lock, and having Steven and Sara inevitably captured – and then escaping from – the indigenous locals; essentially it is a very broadly drawn historical, with almost no characterisation, but with the Daleks thrown in for good measure. 

That said, there are some enjoyable moments here too – the scenes between Mavic Chen and the Monk sound hilarious, and from what we can see of episode ten, their interchanges are very funny, filled with eye rolling and disdain for one another.  The Monk does, of course, get the best moments throughout episode 9, particularly in the scene in which he pulls out his sunglasses to mask the glare on the sunlight.  His twofaced-ness between the Doctor, who he loathes, and the Daleks and Chen, who he clearly fears, is brilliantly played.  The cliffhanger for episode 9, though, is one of the most obscure, blending genres once more, as the wrapped hand emerges from a sarcophagus. 

Fortunately, episode ten does exist, which allows us to remember that Camfield is truly a genius – once it is moving again, we realise the depth of field which Camfield permits.  There are some stunning shots – the cross-fade between the sun and the reflection on the Dalek casing is beautifully fluid.  Likewise, the set design here is superb, and the cycloramas are wonderfully painted, creating a sumptuous level of detail and depth.  Episode 10, in fact, includes some great moments of genius – the face-off between Mavic Chen and the Dalek is wonderful too, and no detailed audio narration from Purves could possibly do this moment justice – as he balks furiously at it, he knocks the eyestalk off to one side – and in retaliation, the Dalek confronts Chen thoroughly, getting right into his personal space and becoming a palpable threat once more.  Once the cliffhanger is resolved, meanwhile, the scenes involving the Monk and Steven and Sara are brilliant – as the TARDIS crew discuss what is best to do in the background, the Monk fills the foreground, complaining of headaches and desperate to gain entry to the Doctor’s ship.  Likewise, humour is prevalent once Steven and Sara are taken to the Daleks as “hostages”, and Mavic Chen calls out over a loudspeaker system, hailed by Egyptians to be the voice of God, is very clever.

The episode ending, meanwhile, is exactly where the serial should have left off from episode 6 – rather than handing the false core over 4 episodes again, the drama would have been far superior had we had seen the Doctor hand over the real core, and picked up on this cliffhanger.  Whilst the introduction of the Monk was fun, and a brief distraction, the dramatic impact of the final two episodes, which are simply superb, would have been far superior. 

The scenes involving the delegates are superb, particularly the unnerving silence offered by the Daleks, are brilliant;  the moment that the delegates try to turn on Chen is brilliantly played, but upon his persuasion of them, Chen instantly becomes the leader again, even so delusional as to continue the pretence of leadership once the group are locked in.  Chen’s vanity is seemingly unending, and it is troubling – never before have we seen such a fickle human nemesis for the Doctor, and we shan’t again for quite some time (possibly the next best will also be Stoney n The Invasion).  Once the group of delegates are freed by Steven and Sara, Chen’s false suicide is quickly undermined by his reappearance.  What is interesting is that whilst the other delegates all rush home to save their individual galaxies, Chen’s delusions of grandeur extend well beyond the safety of the solar system. 

Hartnell’s absence is also played upon in this story – much like the knowing conventions were played upon in the Christmas special.  Whilst he appeared in the opening scene, his disappearance is commented upon by Steven and Sara as they pace the abandoned Dalek base, and Hartnell’s Doctor is used as a motivation for Chen; his grandeur is so obscurely over-the-top that he genuinely seems to see the Doctor as a threat – but not in a physical sense, rather that he is worried that the Doctor will replace Chen himself as the assistant to the Daleks.  It is interesting in that, for all that Chen has appeared throughout this story, he has only had two prior scenes with Hartnell, and sees him in such a way.

Episode 12 sees us finally reach the end of this epic, sprawling serial – and it is a truly explosive finale.  The Daleks finally do what was to be expected, and they turn on Chen.  But it is the way in which they turn on him that is truly terrifying.  After the repeated screams of “exterminate”, “eradicate” and “conquer”, it is at this precise moment that the Daleks decide to be utterly silent.  They glare, and watch, as his megalomaniacal breakdown goes well beyond anything we could have expected.  And then, they exterminate him anyway.  It is chilling, and fitting.  Purves’ description of Chen, falling to the floor with “a look of astonishment on his face” is superb.

The entire end sequence is chilling and horrific, in fact;  once the Doctor arrives, and takes the time destructor from the Daleks, everything becomes a battle against time.  The sound effects are haunting throughout, and as Sara races back to assist the Doctor, against his wishes, we realise that there is a sense of finality to this story, in the way that Katarina’s story, and Bret’s story, have each come to their bitter conclusion too.  Through her attempts to help, however, Sara ultimately achieves nothing.  And that is the bitterest pill to swallow.  She sacrifices herself needlessly, for no ends, in the most horrific death we’ve seen yet on Doctor Who, and still the most horrific 49 years later. 

Again, without this scene existing, it is almost impossible to tell how this looked, but again, knowing Camfield, it was horrifically outstanding – the description, and the stills, of Sara’s body aging horrifically as the sands of time whip at her are awful.  What reinforces this is Hartnell’s ungodly scream at Steven when he dares to have left the TARDIS, really ensuring we realise the danger involved.  The image of her skeleton – all that is left of this brave and fierce woman – disintegrating and being tossed asunder by a zephyr of time is haunting.  Likewise, the sounds of the Daleks being destroyed, returned to their primitive state, metallic exoskeleton being torn away, leaving simply the embryo, small and soft and vulnerable, is terrifically ambient. 

And that final scene, of Hartnell picking up the Dalek embryo and chuckling, before being reminded of the price paid for this small victory, is awful.  We realise that, really, the Doctor has lost this one.  Although the lives of nameless billions have been saved, it has cost the Doctor the lives of 3 companions.   

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

The Time Meddler


The Time Meddler is one of my all-time favourite serials, not just from Hartnell’s tenure, but from the entire history of the show.  The first ever pseudo-historical, merging sci-fi and history together, it is also one of the funniest.  It could well be my most frequently-watched serial, alongside City of Death and Genesis of the Daleks.  It really is that good.

Uniting Douglas Camfield, one of the most sublime directors of the show, with Dennis Spooner, whose flair for comedy is outstanding, is a touch of genius in-and-of itself.  But adding to this the phenomenal Peter Butterworth guarantees class.  What is strange, then, is that in the first episode, The Watcher, Butterworth does very little but watch.  He eavesdrops from the cliff top, after watching the TARDIS materialise, muttering absent-mindedly to himself.  He is rather underused, but in such a way that it enthrals the viewer.  Just who is this man?  Bearing in mind that whenever the TARDIS has materialised, or dematerialised, in front of others before, they have commented on how they cannot believe their eyes, and yet here is the Monk, simply watching.  It is eerie.  He knows more than he should, which makes us want to know more.  It’s a wonderful method of engaging the audience.

The opening scene is beautifully underplayed by Hartnell and O’Brien – their discussion about missing Ian and Barbara really hits a nerve for the viewers;  I know I still miss them too.  Hartnell resumes his grandfatherly role, leading Vicki to the armchair and offering kindly words to her, before the pair is suddenly interrupted by the sounds of an intruder within the ship.  Peter Purves’ return is welcome to the series, yet he comes across as brash, uncouth and rude – his disbelief pours from him (“IDBI!”) as Vicki attempts to explain the secrets of the ship to him.  The dialogue is witty, yet we are not being asked to warm to Steven straight away.  Indeed, throughout this serial, we see him mellow, becoming a more appropriate character to be travelling in the TARDIS.  Purves does a wonderful job here of underplaying Steven’s appeal, gradually cooling off and becoming less abrasive.  Hartnell’s approach to this interloper is also brilliant, as he reels through his environ whilst ushering Steven out of the way – “A chair with a panda on it!  Sheer poetry, my dear boy!”

The scenes on the beach also include some fantastically witty lines – “a space helmet for a cow?!” – and Hartnell is on top form, no doubt because he was aware that he had a holiday coming up very soon (during part 2 of this story, in fact!)  The educational remit of the show is once again approached in a sensible manner, as Hartnell deducts their time and place based on the answers given to him by Alethea Charlton’s character, Edith.  Discussing past monarchs, as well as using clues such as the leaves on the trees, the Doctor deduces that they are in 1066, an infamous time in English history, and one still studied in school today.

What Spooner does with his script, and which Camfield monopolises in his direction, is the subtle use of anachronisms throughout.  In an earlier scene with the Monk, we see him purposefully glance down at his watch.  We’d be forgiven for thinking this was an unintentional accident, much like Billy’s brilliant fluffs in this first episode, but then it emerges that he really was looking at his watch.  The Doctor’s exploration of the monastery reveals that the chanting is actually emanating from a gramophone.  Rather than attempting to justify these inconsistencies, the show revels in them, throwing a curveball at the audience and then forcing them to wait again.  What is interesting is that whilst this serial is held in high regard by many Whovians nowadays, the audience appreciation index showed that, as the story progressed, most viewers disliked these anachronisms.  Many didn’t like historicals at all, and ignored the presence of a potential sci-fi twist.  In addition, those that did like historicals found the addition of sci-fi made the plot silly and frivolous.
 
The cliffhanger at the end of part 1 plays perfectly into Hartnell’s absence (fortunately no need for Edmund Warwick to double as the Doctor again!) and it is in Hartnell’s absence that two key things happen.  Firstly, Butterworth’s Meddling Monk is given more to do – he becomes a focal point, and milks comedy out of every movement and line of dialogue given; the scene in which he prepares breakfast, before having a drink thrown into his face from off-screen is great.  Secondly, it allows Vicki and Steven to take centre stage.  O’Brien is brilliant in this serial as, having travelled with the Doctor longer, she becomes the leader of the pair, much to Steven’s chagrin.  The scene in which the two are captured and taken to the Saxon village is smashing, as it allows Vicki to dominate, whilst giving Steven the chance to gradually defrost a little.  The low-key way in which, after shouting at the villagers, he gladly accepts their food and awkwardly mutters “thanks...  thank you.” is lovely – he realises what a pig-headed fool he was being.  Likewise, as they then leave the camp, his repetition of “god be with you” is touchingly delivered, showing this awkwardness again.

Alethea Charlton is wonderful in this serial – from her welcoming of the travellers, through to her assistance of the Monk, offering him food, she is fantastic;  but her best scenes are following the attack from the Viking invaders.  There is no question what has happened to her, yet it is never explicitly stated.  It is not often that a performance as convincing as this would make it into children’s TV, and the look of shock in her eyes and her inability to speak utterly sells that she has been subjected to rape.  It is awful, unnerving.

When Steven and Vicki make it to the monastery and trick the Monk into admitting that he knows of the Doctor is brilliantly played by all three – Steven tricks him into confessing he has seen the Doctor by gaining a description of the Doctor, but what adds to the sense of danger is Vicki’s suggestion that perhaps they are not being as clever as they think they are, and the Monk has pulled a double-bluff. 

Eventually, Steven and Vicki make it into the monastery to discover that the Doctor has escaped – “He’s gone!” Vicki exclaims – and leads us nicely into Hartnell’s return for episode 3, where he really comes into his own.  It is clear that he’s been waiting for a performer of Butterworth’s calibre to verbally spar with since the show began.  As with Nero in The Romans, he parries and defends with a razor sharp tongue, the “Battle of Wits” of the title.  What this episode does so effectively is that, once again, the conventions of the series are being altered, parameters are being moved.  Since The Aztecs, it was made clear that history could not be changed, “not one line!”  Yet here, Hartnell mumbles away to himself about the battle of Hastings and 1066, before finishing off with “that’s what the history books say happened”.  It’s troubling, because it suggests that time can be altered, if one is so inclined.  It means that things can always be undone, rewritten. 

Following the reveal that the Monk has his own TARDIS, we are faced with this dilemma – he suggests that by destroying the Viking ships, all of history will improve thanks to his intervention.  Hartnell instantly dismisses this, claiming it is against the rules of time travel, but the Monk doesn’t care one jot about the rules.  He is a man with a plan – indeed, he even has a chart plotting his plan step-by-step!  The conversation between Vicki and Steven is therefore rather troubling – if history were changed, then all of the future is instantly rewritten.  History books haven’t been written yet, so they’ll just have a different account of events in them when they are published.  What is nice is that they have no concerns for themselves – if history changes, and in the future rockets are invented hundreds of years earlier, then surely their own timelines will become null and void – Steven would never have been on his spaceship, and Vicki would never have crash-landed on Dido either.

The fourth episode is entitled “Checkmate”, rather fittingly – this battle of wits has come to its natural conclusion, and it is played out for the most part via the Monk’s TARDIS, a gleaming black floor directly juxtaposed by the safe, known confines of the Doctor’s white, sterile control room.  The jealousy that Hartnell’s Doctor clearly feels for this superior craft is palpable – he snaps “mind your own business!” when asked which model he has. 

One of the most brutal scenes in Doctor Who history is, allegedly, the killing of the two Vikings, Ulf and Sven.  Sadly, these scenes were cut and discarded, with only audio to tell by, but based on the special feature on the DVD “The Missing 12 Seconds” it all sounds rather gruesome.  It is fitting, though that this is missing – this last episode loses nothing in us not seeing the fate of the invaders.  Instead, it focuses on the lightweight matter of the Doctor and the Monk finishing their business.  The Doctor’s clear excitement at his plot, vandalising the Monk’s TARDIS, is wonderful, and he hams it up, giggling like a naughty schoolboy.  Upon the Monk’s return, Butterworth has a wonderful scene, alone in the vault, reading his note, scoffing at the possibility that the Doctor could possibly defeat him.  Of course, by removing the dimensional stabiliser and therefore shrinking the interior, the Monk is inexorably marooned in 1066.
 
But this is rather troubling.  It is made clear that the Monk likes to meddle in the history of Earth.  Following the end of Hartnell’s tenure, it is made clear that the Doctor, as a Time Lord, can regenerate into a new body, and it has since been set down that he can do this 12 times.  So sticking a fellow Time Lord (although that term isn’t used for quite a few years yet) in the past, with all of his knowledge and technical abilities, is surely a dangerous outcome?

Still, that’s all by-the-by.  The Doctor wins (of course) and continues in his travels amongst the stars, as the faces of Hartnell, O’Brien and Purves are superimposed over a star-screen brings us to the end of the second season.