Showing posts with label Andrew Burt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Andrew Burt. Show all posts

Friday, 29 July 2011

Blake's 7: Harvest of Kairos



“But first there is the question of that degrading and primitive act to which I was subjected in the control room.

I should like you to do it again.”

Another new writer, then: Ben Steed. IMDb tells me very little about him, but he’s come up with one of the finest scripts I’ve ever seen on Blake’s 7. We begin in media res as the Liberator faces attack from four Federation pursuit ships while Avon and Vila are on the planet below. In previous episodes this sort of scenario has formed a central part of the plot; here, it’s a mere curtain-opener.

Servalan (still on that space wheel thing even though she’s now president), while supervising the attack, is told by this week’s underling, Dastor, that a construction worker called Jarvik has mocked her constant failure to capture the Liberator. Interestingly, this is conveyed by the phrase “They say you’re afraid of Tarrant”. This is interesting; as per last episode, it’s interesting to speculate on whether or not Avon is still in effective control of “his” ship. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, of course; one again, Tarrant doesn’t order Avon about as he does the others, and Avon does at one point explicitly comment on Tarrant’s famed skills as a space commander. It’s possible that Avon is simply delegating combat to the most skilled member of his crew, but it doesn’t feel that way, especially as Avon spends the entire episode being somewhat detached, obsessing over some rock he’s found.

We meet the construction worker, Jarvik, as Servalan demands an explanation. All she gets is a “Woman, you’re beautiful,” and an unexpected and unsought kiss! This, and the quote at the top there, are… interesting. Is the script, as opposed to the character, being misogynistic here? This isn’t just kinkiness, which would be fine; it’s non-consensual. And Servalan’s reaction might be thought to send out worrying messages that all women “want” it. I suppose the power relations between the two of them, with Servalan being an absolute dictator who is implicitly always in control, are a satisfactory mitigating factor as far as the character of Servalan is concerned; I can believe her reaction. But the subtext is still worrying.

Anyway… Jarvik gets to look clever by making snide comments as Servalan’s attack inevitably fails. And he correctly predicts that Tarrant will take the Liberator to Kairos, for its harvest. (At this point, deciding where to take the Liberator, Tarrant seems to be blatantly acting as leader. Yes, he takes a vote, and yes, Avon declines to comment when asked, but he’s taking charge.) The planet is hostile to human life for some reason, except during “harvest week”, where the fantastically valuable Kairodan crystal can be found; under Avon and/or Tarrant, the crew of the Liberator seem to be, up to a point at least, thieves interested in personal wealth. With Blake and the Federation gone, so has any clear political aim.

Our two newbies are developing in opposite ways here; Tarrant is competent, warm, and less annoying, while Dayna is showing fewer and fewer personality traits.

It seems Jarvik once knew Tarrant, and was in fact once his superior officer before being downgraded to construction worker for crimes which are, interestingly, unspecified. He’s very much the no-nonsense alpha male type, intelligent but appreciative of the textures and pleasures of life, and very much against computers; this seems to be a running theme this series. Servalan is intrigued by him, both cerebrally and sexually, temporarily promotes him to acting major, and gives him three modern pursuit ships to see if she can capture the Liberator.

Servalan gets to show how deliciously evil she is by ordering the harvest ship on Kairos to abandon the labourers to certain death so she can fit more Kairodan on to the ship. There’s a great scene as a guard gloats at their inevitable deaths, until he realises he’s being abandoned too!

Servalan observes and commentates, despairingly, as Jarvik carries out his cunning plans. That it is, until Jarvik tells her to “Lie there and keep quiet until I tell you otherwise!” Tarrant and co teleport to the cargo hold where the Kairodan is being held, where they are ambushed. In a brilliant scene, Avon then rouses himself briefly from his study of the rock to casually rescue them all, stating, devastatingly, that “They were an obvious possibility, Tarrant!” But, of course, this is a ruse; the real trap is in the crates, a sort of Trojan Kairodan. Servalan is on the point of arresting Jarvik for failure when the capture of the Liberator is reported.

Servalan demands that the ship register her voice pattern on pain of killing the crew one by one. Tarrant naturally refuses, but Avon is very clever indeed. Forcing Servalan to order Zen to drop them off on the nearest planet, he seems to have outsmarted her, until it turns out that the nearest planet is Kairos, and the harvest is over.

Jarvik rejects command of the Liberator and, although television convention dictates that we next see them fully clothed in bed, quite obviously proceeds to have some rather good sex with Servalan. For motives which are by now almost entirely sexual, though, Servalan persuades him to teleport to Kairos and grab all of the former crew’s teleport bracelets, “If you’re to me man enough for me.” Jarvik agrees, and insists on going alone, cos he’s well ‘ard.

On the surface we see an archaic landing module- lucky, that, as it turns out- and the secret of the planet: some extremely large grubs have hatched. Passing over the awkward fact that they look rather less convincing than the pantomime horse off Rentaghost, we learn that they eat Kairodan, and will kill anyone who’s touched it. There is fighting and macho posturing aplenty as Jarvik arrives, and he returns from his mission with all of the bracelets plus Dayna as an added bonus. Servalan orders the local area of the surface to be bombarded, and our heroes are in very big trouble.

Appropriately, it’s Avon who saves the day, with the rock. Its means of self-preservation is to convince any attacker that it’s a slightly bigger and better version of itself. Zen is convinced that this tiny little capsule is, in fact, a massive and far superior ship, in spite of the scanner image showing that it blatantly isn’t. Jarvik isn’t fooled, but Servalan is, and she calls off the attack. Jarvik’s accidental death by friendly fire is a little contrived, but this doesn’t really detract from an outstanding episode.

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

Doctor Who: Terminus

Part One

“Don’t patronise me, Turlough.”

I’m approaching this with an open mind, although I’m well aware of its reputation. I’ve only seen it once before, in the late ‘90s, and I can remember very little. The only bias I have going into this is that I was hugely impressed with Steve Gallagher’s Warrior’s Gate. Still, there’s the awkward fact that I’m watching this in the full knowledge that it’s not popular and whatever I end up thinking I’ll suspect myself of either conforming to received opinion or setting myself in rebellion against it. I don’t win either way- much better to enter a story completely blind! Anyway, here goes…

We open with more development of the Turlough / Black Guardian angle as Turlough sabotages the TARDIS. Mark Strickson is excellent in playing this rather shifty, cowardly, self-centred yet redeemable character in a way I haven’t appreciated before. Tegan is getting suspicious of this newcomer, and incidentally is still wearing the same outfit. I assume she gets to change them once a season? Still, it’s shaping up to be an interesting relationship.

Meanwhile, we get to see Nyssa’s room again. And also Turlough’s room, which used to be Adric’s room, and still has all his old stuff in it- a nice touch, reminding us that Turlough doesn’t share the painful memory the other TARDISeers have to deal with, and is still yet an outsider.

As a result of Turlough’s sabotage things start going wrong with the ship, leading to yet another “I’ll explain later” from the Doctor. And then the Ship merges with somewhere else- a nice different way of arriving somewhere with the TARDIS exterior not being seen at all throughout the story. It’s very effective seeing the four TARSISeers gradually disappearing into the mysterious vessel.
And then of course we end with loads of lepers appearing, one of whom is apparently Kathy Burke…


Part Two

“We’re all going to die!”

The computer operated by the Doctor in this episode looks uncannily like the sort of thing that would have been released as a board game and advertised on kids’ TV at the time. Now that the Marathon is reaching a time I can actually remember I’m getting all these random outbreaks of nostalgia triggered by the most bizarre things.

Things are still good so far, with an interesting backstory of plague and corporate greed, and the odd coincidence of Terminus being at the exact centre of the universe. Not to mention Kali and Olvir being officially the most ‘80s people ever. I mean- that hair!

Peter Benson as Bor is instantly recognisable as Henry Tudor to those, like me, who have seen the first episode of The Black Adder far more times than is healthy. And there are other characters in similarly great looking armour with names like Eirak, Valgard and Sigurd, known as the Vanir. Hmm. I’ll take this as an indication that Norse myths are being referenced here but I’ve no idea which ones. The Garm’s a giant, too, so the giants are superseded by the gods, or “Vanir”, but that’s both very tenuous and not relevant to this episode.

Nyssa gets infected, and promptly strips off into her underwear. And at the same time she acquires some unsightly buboes and lesions. Yep, that’s how you get the dads watching, I’m sure they’re all leprosy fetishists…


Part Three

“You’re weird, Turlough.”

At this point it starts to feel a bit slow and plodding, presumably the problem people have with it, but I can’t quite put my finger on why it feels so. We’re getting plenty of plot revelations, the characters are well written and played, there are some good concepts and it’s even well designed. But still, there’s something a little unengaging about it all for some reason.

The Vanir power struggle subplot begins, to be paid off next episode, Tegan and Turlough have a conversation about the ethics of killing, mandated by the story arc- they’ve both been sidelined a bit- and we get the big revelation; Terminus’s first engine blowing up started the Big Bang and the second one’s about to blow, taking the universe with it! I’m not sure I buy this- surely the civilisation that built this ship also built many more, each with the potential to do the same, so by the law of averages the universe should have ended by now? Still, in the context of the story, it works. Oh, and it’s technically all Turlough’s fault if it does.

Part Four

“You represent a pure investment of my time and energy!”

It’s quite unexpected to see that the Garm does actually cure Nyssa. Not only that, he can talk, too, and also save the universe by pushing a lever. He’s a giant (Norse mythology!) as are the Vanir (Norse mythology!) and presumably the same species as the ship’s dead pilot.

The cure may have worked on Nyssa, but it’s crude, unfocused and as likely to kill as to cure. Nyssa, on the other hand, would be able to turn it into a much better cure, much as she would be able to synthesise unlimited supplies of hydromel to free the Vanir from their dependence on the Company, just as the Garm has been freed by the Doctor.

“It’ll be good to see the TARDIS again.” says the Doctor. “And Tegan.” Adds Nyssa, “Well…” says the Doctor!!! It isn’t even the first time he’s said something like this- he doesn’t even like Tegan, and is only putting up with her to avoid an unpleasant scene. Blimey!

Nyssa stays behind where she’s needed, in a fitting and unexpectedly emotional departure.


I can’t put my finger on anything that was actually wrong with this, but it seemed somehow unengaging for large stretches. There’s a lot about it that’s good though, and its bad reputation hardly sees fair. I give it a solid 3/5.