The Masque of the Red Death (1964)

"Each man creates his own God for himself, his own Heaven, his own Hell."

I'd seen and blogged a couple of Roger Corman’s Poe films before, and found they’ve always been impressive in how they were scripted, shot and acted. But this one absolutely stands out as the finest by far. It’s superb, taking an Edgar Allan Poe short story and making a dark philosophical treatise that almost echoes Bergman’s The Seventh Seal.

The setting is simple; a gothic castle in Renaissance Italy and the dark, plague-ridden countryside. But the film eschews realism in order to make the countryside darkly stylised, while there’s a sense that this community is cut off from the rest of Italy, giving Prince Prosperous absolute power over all he surveys. An openly Satanist prince would not possibly have been able to survive in Renaissance Italy, of course, but the film exists in its own claustrophobic, deeply atmospheric little world.

And at the centre of it all is the magnificent, extraordinary Vincent Price, giving one of the performances of his career. His mellifluous voice, the arch of his eyebrow, the looks of sardonic sadism- all this makes him utterly compelling as a charming sadist with absolute power and a love of Satan. There are subplots- Hazel Court as a princess fated to a gory death after giving herself to the Devil, and the horrifying revenge of a dwarf for the insult to his lady- but the film entirely focuses around the compelling figure of Prospero, and his eventual comeuppance is glorious.

I’ve blogged a fair few Roger Corman films by now, many of them excellent. But this is his finest achievement by far.

Doctor Who: Warrior's Gate

Part One

“Well, we’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.”

From the start it’s clear this story is going to be really well-directed, and in fact it pretty much looks fab all the way through, much as I appreciate the problems this caused in reality. It’s all very much like an art flick in look and style, with the two plebs at the start flipping the coin reminding me of Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. Gosh, what an original observation that was…

Interesting TARDIS scene, the conversation somehow managing to get away with talking about the I-Ching (“Astral Jung”!) as though it were serious science without seeming too new agey. That’ll be Bidmead then. I also like the way the Doctor’s old costume is still there on the hatstand- never noticed that before. Intriguing that the ethical problems with taking Adric away from his own universe, probably for ever, are brought up, although naturally this can’t be dwelt on. Let’s just hope it all turns out ok and nothing bad happens to Adric.

Blimey, the TARDIS doors are opening in flight! Have they checked the Fast Return Switch? The scenes of the alien creature (all right, we know it’s a Tharil) operating the TARDIS work brilliantly, essentially because of the effects and direction.

We get introduced to the ship’s crew- an array of interesting characters, seemingly grounded in a very earthy reality. In fact, this is a very lived-in future, as shown by the ship design as well as the crew’s behaviour. I think we have the first Doctor Who story to be influenced by Alien!

More good stuff abounds- the gateway, the strangely mediaeval, cobwebbed interior, the mystery of the Tharils. I haven’t a clue what it all means yet, but I like it a lot.

Oh, and Romana has just said to Adric “What if the Doctor and I went different ways?” Ooh…

Part Two

“And why believe Biroc?”

“Because he was running!”

Romana’s very serious, very Doctorish, in this story. Meanwhile, the Doctor’s arms are full of axe handles. Nice scene. Elsewhere, K9 pointedly addressees Adric as “Young Adric”, not “Master”. Nice touch. Well, all right, he calls him “Young Master” shortly before, but still…

We get some backstory from the Gundans- they were built by “slaves to overthrow an empire. What does this all mean? Does it have anything to do with the humans’ ship with its cargo of Tharils, reminiscent of the ships carrying slaves from Africa to the Americas? There seem to be definite themes developing; enslavement, randomness, time…

Part Three

“The weak enslave themselves, Doctor. You know that.”

Biroc keeps talking to the Doctor in riddles as they walk through a monochrome garden. It’s strange how relatively little happens during this story, yet it’s rendered compelling by the stunning visuals, poetic dialogue, and the fascinating characterisation of Rorvik and his crew, who remind me of people I’ve worked with.

We get a big revelation with the Tharil banquet in an earlier time period with their human slaves- so the roles have been reversed. In spite of all the non-linearness the basic plot isn’t all that complicated, surprisingly, although I’m still unclear on which side of the gateway the Tharil empire was.

Part Four

“The back blast backlash will bounce back and destroy everything!”

The dimensions are contracting, and it’s all because of the “dwarf star alloy” Rorvik's lot use for shackling the Tharil slaves on his ship. Things are looking rather grim, although Biroc doesn’t seem that bothered, content to spend his time thinking up riddles all day. I rather like him.

The conversation between the doctor and Romana in the TARDIS (“I like that, you’re improving”) is fascinating. On the surface it’s the same sort of banter they’ve always exchanged, but there’s a bitter undercurrent, confirmed by Romana’s “It’s a matter of supreme indifference to me”. It seems the Doctor and Romana have fallen out badly, probably at least partly because of Romana’s summons to Gallifrey and the Doctor’s reaction to it, but they’re getting on notably worse than they were in State of Decay. It’s a fascinating scene, with a lot hinging on whether or not you think they were an actual couple. I do.

Ultimately Romana gets a very brusque exit, pretty much confirming things were not good between her and the Doctor. She now has an heroic purpose of her own, freeing the Tharil slaves while presumably dodging Time Lord pursuers.

Oh, and I haven’t mentioned this before but Rorvik is a great villain, and his last line is great.

5/5, then, a hat trick for the e-Space trilogy. This was completely unlike any previous Who story- allegorical, highly dependent on arty presentation, but also full of substance and things to ponder. Even Matthew Waterhouse gave me nothing to complain about this time around.

Doctor Who: The Massacre

War of God

"But you promise me you won't get into trouble?"

"Yes, of course!"


After several of the excellent more recent recons, it's somewhat frustrating to go back to static pictures, and even more frustrating that there are no telesnaps! Still, Loose Cannon have done an excellent job, as always.

Its quite surprising that apparently Charles Preslin was just a made up character, especially as its a little odd for the Doctor, without pausing to find out exactly where or when he is, to blithely leave Steven in a tavern while he goes to hobnob with a local scientist. This hardly seems to fit well with his more active characterisation of late; John Lucarotti seems to be writing the Doctor of Season One. Not that it matters much though; he won't be writing much of the Doctor at all!

Steven's bewildered by the situation right from the moment the Doctor sets off, as are the viewers. Preslin's comment that he hopes the Doctor "succeeds" is especially confusing in that it isn't followed up. And what happens to Preslin anyway? A good episode nonetheless.

The Sea Beggar

"You are an extraordinary man, Tavannes. You see shadows where there is no sun."


Steven is caught up in an increasingly dangerous situation without a clue what's going on; this is extremely effective, and becomes even more so as events continue to spiral slowly out of control. His confusion over whether the Doctor is the Abbot of Amboise or not is shared by the viewer (although not by me, sadly, having seen it before). The script plays this up, making the Abbot a mysterious and less than trusted character even to his fellow conspirators. And Steven, of course, puts his foot in it; now almost no one trusts him, as the swordfight scene with Eric Thompson's splendidly hotheaded Gaston demonstrates.

Hartnell's hardly in this episode, incidentally, and he's credited only as the Abbot.

Priest of Death

"War is so tedious."


We're finally introduced to the childlike King and Catherine de Medici, silent for the moment. But once she does speak, her words have real power and we're left in little doubt that she means ill and will get what she wants. De Coligny gets a nice line: "Kings are recognised only by the power they wield. The Queen Mother seems to claim that power."

Hartnell is a revelation as the Abbot, playing a character sharply distinguished from the Doctor. Yet we're still left unsure whether or not they're the same person, which makes his death a very powerful scene. With the Doctor seemingly dead Steven ends this episode alone, apparently stranded, fleeing a mob which wants him dead. Has there ever been a bleaker ending?

Incidentally the lack of reprises works well, with no cliffhangers as such but each episode covering a day and punctuated by the tocsins. Each episode ends on a dramatic high rather than a cliffhanger, but this works.

Bell of Doom

"Now, they've all gone. All gone. None of them could understand. Not even my little Susan. Or Vicki. And as for Barbara and Chatterton... Chesterton... they were all too impatient to get back to their own time. And now, Steven. Perhaps I should go home, back to my own planet. But I can't... I can't..."


Easily the finest individual episode of Doctor Who yet, and that's saying something. Hartnell is quite breathtaking in this. We start with Steven lost, despondent, entirely defeated by events, until the Doctor suddenly turns up and takes charge. On my original viewing of this story I liked it a lot but marked it down for the non-explanation of the Doctor's whereabouts. But seeing it now in context I think I originally missed the point; the story is focused on Steven as he gets hopelessly tangled up in a situation hopelessly out of his depth. The absence of the Doctor is the point; we see how much he's needed, otherwise things can go very, very wrong. This is a Doctor Lite story, and better even than Blink.

The Doctor and Steven are in no physical danger from this point onwards, but the drama lies elsewhere. We get a foreshadowing of the later TARDIS scene as the Doctor, to Steven's bewilderment, quickly dismisses Anne to her aunt's. Steven asks him firmly "But Doctor, what is going on?" but the Doctor dismisses him in typical style: "There's no time for me to explain. Come along". This exchange may seem typical, and it is, but it's pivotal. The Doctor may not be acting unusually, but the wider situation makes the moral consequences of his acts far more serious than would normally be the case. This week we're in no light-hearted adventure serial.

Even Tavannes (the great Andre Morell) is horrified by Catherine de Medici's plans to use the mob rather than targeted assassinations to attack the Huguenots; this is genocide; "The innocent? Heresy can have no innocence". This is truly horrible. Fittingly, the Doctor and Steven leave at the exact moment when the massacre is about to start.

This story is part John Lucarotti style historical (something wonderful in itself of course, but...), and part radical experimentation with the format (Donald Tosh?). So the Doctor's comments about not changing history are, if anything, too reminiscent of The Aztecs and a little outdated post- Time Meddler. But the circumstances are very different here; Steven's anger is hardly unjustified. In sending Anne to her Aunt's, where she's certain to be searched for, the Doctor most probably has sent her to her death. The Doctor isn't really behaving differently to the way he always does here- his justifications of his actions on the grounds of not changing history are nothing new and, in another context, hardly controversial. But in a situation of such horror as this we feel very differently about it: "My dear Steven, history sometimes gives us a terrible shock. And that is because we don't fully understand. Why should we? After all, we're all too small to realise its final pattern". Hartnell delivers these words despondently, with restraint but also with more emotion than we've ever heard from him before. The Doctor firmly believes in his principles but doesn't feel the horror any less than Steven; he's just too world-weary to be shocked by it. It would be nice to see Steven's expression as he wordlessly leaves the TARDIS.

The Doctor's soliloquy that follows is the most revealing character moment the Doctor's had, and a triumphant performance from Hartnell, made all the more effective by well-judged silences, which will surely prove the highlight of his tenure. Forty years before Tennant, the Doctor's essential loneliness is laid bare. This is powerful stuff.

I'm actually quite tolerant of the final scenes, if we ignore Dodo's extraordinary accent. The policemen are a flimsy excuse for Steven to return, but I suspect they're supposed to be; Steven's made his point, but doesn't really want to leave the TARDIS this way. This lets him save face, and the Doctor lets him. Still, there's no excusing the glibness of Dodo's introduction or the carelessness of the fact that the TARDIS just takes off with this new passenger who, conveniently, has no friends or family to miss her. Dodo is poorly served by her introduction, but she actually provides a nice bit of catharsis for both the Doctor and Steven. The Doctor's comment that she looks like Susan is really just indicating what he wants her to be, as he's rather raw emotionally and afraid of being alone at this point. And Steven's ridiculous theory about Dodo proving Anne survived is no more than desperate straw clutching, but again it helps him get over his trauma and save face, and once again the Doctor lets him.



This is the best story so far by a long way- it works superbly as a historical but it's also a brave experiment with the format in this fantastically experimental season, with the absence of the Doctor, and the closing dramatisation of the core emotional themes of the show. And up to now Steven's been a vaguely defined character- a little stubborn, not too bright, but little else. Not any more. But the incredible thing about this story is that the Doctor has never seemed so three-dimensional and real. Hartnell is a revelation in the final scenes. 5/5.