Out of the Trees

 “Van… is a word rarely used to start sentences.”

It's a shame this was buried on original transmission and lost for so many years; it’s superb. A sketch show scripted by the dream team of Douglas Adams and my fellow Leicestershire lad Graham Chapman, it feels in some ways similar to the style of the last season of Monty Python but is much fresher. Chapman and Adam’s as a writing team produce some splendid alchemy giving us a consistent run of excellent and very funny sketches.

The cast impresses too, especially Simon Jones in his pre-Arthur Dent days.

If you enjoyed the more verbal type of Pythonesque humour, or you’re a fan of Douglas Adam’s, you must seek this out.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Fit the Sixth

 "I always said there was something fundamentally wrong with the universe..."

And so it ends, with a twist that was much more powerful the first time but still feels worryingly true: the human race is fundamentally a race of useless management consultants, marketing executives and so forth- no civil servants, of course. We would have been on the "A" ark. Yes we would. 

And then there's what is, apparently, the ultimate question- although I'm not sure why it would be in Arthur's subsconscious in the first place, as he's descended from Golgafrinchans and thus surely not part of Deep Thought's computer program- is a mathematical equation that is incorrect. This does, indeed, explain so much about the universe. 

The Golgafinchams are great, and Aubrey Morris in particular. It's a powerfu end to a splendid visual adaptation. It may look cheap, ot may look dated, but it's bloody brilliant.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Fit the Fifth

 "The first ten million years were the worst, and the second ten million years, they were the worst too. The third ten million years I didn't enjoy at all. After that I went into a bit of a decline."

Although I have, naturally, experienced the events of this episode repeatedly, and in multiple media, it is nonetheless fresher to me than the preceding four episodes, and the ideas are, of course, as awesome as anything that comes from the mind of Douglas Adams.

We have a rock star, spending a year dead for tax reasons, whose over-the-top gigs illustrate precisely why the galaxy so urgently needs punk. We have Colin Jeavons, whom I tend to think of as Lestrade from the Granada Sherlock Holmes, as a splendidly over-the-top compere. We even have an utterly unrecogniseable Peter Davison as the Dish of the Day, which longs to be eaten.

But Marvin is, as ever, the best bit. This is wonderful stuff.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Fit the Fourth

 "We demand rigidly defined areas of doubt and uncertainty!"

This episode is, of course, where the novel ends: it is also, if I recall correctly, where we diverge from the radio series. But that's after the ecxplosion at the end: until then we hae plenty of Douglas Adams' signature absurdity to look at.

The whole thing about Deep Thought and the Ultimate Question is conceptually awesome, of course, however dated the computing looks forty years later. Yet there's more going on than this- the ridiculing of philosophers (personally, I think we need rather more of them in today's accessible cultural media, but...) and the fact that they behae exactly ike the more rigidly-minded trade union leaders of the time. I somehow doubt Arthur Scargill would have enjoyed this episode much.

Yet we also have an absurd, timey-wimey series of events cause by Arthur's tremendous difficulty with his lifestyle,and a wonderful sequence about the mice offering to buy Arthur's brain: there will never again be a sitcom quite like this. And that's before we even get to the glorious piss take of cops at the end...

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Fit the Third

 "Is there any tea on this spaceship?"

Tonight was going to be the finale of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, but Disney Plus is down, so I've brought this forward instead. Expect to see your previously scheduled blog post on Monday, probably, stuff permitting.  

Anyway, Douglas Adams' magnum opus continues to unfold televisually here, with those elements that have dated continuing to charm, forty years later. I've mentioned Zaphod's no doubt budget-busting animatronic head, but we also have fairly blatant switched between the Heart of Gold, in studio, and the legendary planet of Magrathea, on film. It is, of course, also amusing that the ancient Magratheans should have left a venerable answerphone message.

But the point of all this is Adams' gloriously absurd conceptual coolness, all filtered through his gloriously individual sense of humour. We get our first hints at the true history and purpose of Earth. Yet this, along with the narration of the demise of the old Asimov-like Galactic Empire, plays once more with notions of extinctions and the ends of civilisations, yet lightly, which possibly gives away the Cold War themes of nuclear holocaust. If only nuclear missiles really would turn into a whale and a bowl of petunias.

Yes, I know what you're thinking, but sod Agrajag.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Fit the Second

 "Ford, you're turning into a penguin. Stop it."

You can tell a superior sitcom (if, indeed, that is what this is, with its ever-shifting "situation" by how it uses narrative cleverness and manages to be funny at the same time. Here, even the "previously on" bit is hilarious, featuring a fun little Reginald Perrin-like cameo from Douglas Adams and lots of 1981-ness, with jokes about digital watches.

The Guide is again used cleverly in order to excuse any kind of narrative trickery Adams like- and the Improbability Drive is a splendid concept that excuses the absurd number of coincidences going on here, serving to subtly introduce Zaphod, Trillian, the wonderful Marvin and the new status quo. It's all well enough realised by the standards of the time, and I think that afer forty years we can just about see that animatronic second head as a charming relic of the time as opposed to, say, embarrassingly awful. Although not as awful as the poetry of Paula Millstone Jennings, which I reproduce below because I'm evil...

 

The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.

They lay. They rotted. They turned

Around occasionally.

Bits of flesh dropped off them from

Time to time.:And sank into the pool's mire.

They also smelt a great deal.

That, however, in no way makes this episode anything other than a triumph.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Fit the First

 "They hung in the air in exactly the same way that bricks don't..."

Before I start, two things.

One: I don't blog sitcoms. Except when I do. This is one of those exceptions which simply, obviously, need to be made.

Two: I know Hitchhikers very well. I first saw this aged about ten when my parents, rather wisely, introduced me to it. They'd seen the original broadcast in 1981 and, indeed, my dad happened to catch the first episode of the radio series in 1978, and was immediately hooked. I may not have got into it in March 1978, being under a year old and that, but I later made up for it. Let's just say that, over the last three and a had decades, I've come to know the radio series (all of them) and the books (ditto) moderately well.

I'm not, therefore, going to spend these blogs recounting the plot, and the witty lines. Or, at least, I'll keep tht to a minimum. Instead I'll remark on such things as the perfection that is Peter Jones' voice, or that Simon Jones is Arthur Dent. I'll also remark on how long ago 1981 was on the evidence of this: a pub landlord offering change from a fiver for six pints, or those bowler hatted city gents coming out of the tube station. It's also obligatory to point out how quaint the Guide itself now seems in our internet age. Also, the Ventraxi is literally a Muppet an the Vogons look rubbish.

But I don't care. This is magnificent. It's not just the wit, or the pefrformances. It's how the demolition of Arthur's home parallels the destruction of the Earth, or how the indifferent officiousness of Mr Prosser parallels that of the Vogon captain. This is a universe of harsh, heartless officialdom but with room for hoopy froods to hang out and chill regardless, provided they know where their towels are.

Doctor Who: Shada

Part One

“One lump or two?”

“Two please.”

“Sugar?”

For the first time since Underworld, this is a story I haven’t seen (well, I’ve read Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, but…), leaving only Meglos left. And yet frankly I still don’t feel as though I’ve seen it, as there’s so little left, especially towards the end.

Still, this first episode is largely intact. After my comments on The Horns of Nimon I almost burst out laughing to see yet another story start with a spaceship in deep space. It’s an odd beginning, although the roman numerals on the screen are a nice touch. An then we’re off to Cambridge, where we meet Professor Chronotis, who unaccountably has the TARDIS is his study. I love the way this is left unremarked upon for ages, and then Chronotis just casually remarks that “I think someone must have left it there when I was out.”! We also meet Chris Parsons, clearly a prototype of Richard from Dirk Gently.

We then get the familiar scenes of Romana and the Doctor on the Cam, which seem odd in their original context, but soon they turn up at Chronotis’s college. In a nice touch, the Warden knows the Doctor from many previous visits. The scene with Chronotis in his study is hilarious, as is the notion that a Time Lord can quite easily spends three centuries as a Cambridge don without anybody noticing. We also get the funniest line in all of Doctor Who so far, as Chronotis responds to the Doctor’s mention of hearing a “strange babble of inhuman voices” with “Oh, undergraduates talking to each other, I expect. I’m trying to have it banned.”

The first episode judged on its own is an easy 5/5, in much the same way as City of Death. Sadly, it’s the only episode that’s anywhere near complete.

Part Two

“Two lumps, no sugar.” 

This episode introduces us to a load of brilliant sci-fi concepts of the kind we’d expect from the author of The Pirate Planet. A book that’s -20,000 years old, a sphere that steals minds, Chronotis beating his hearts in Morse code. And the dialogue continues to be great. Sadly, there’s a lot less footage here than there was last episode.

Parts Three to Six

And that’s as far as I can go with the individual episodes, as there’s so little that was filmed for the later episodes. I’m watching the video release with Tom Baker narrating the missing bits, and this works well, but I just don’t end up feeling as though I’ve come anywhere close to seeing Shada. I liked what I saw- lots of great dialogue and great concepts- but I just don’t feel competent to judge things like plot and pacing. I’ll give the story a 4/5 for Alinor, but that’s very provisional as I just don’t feel competent to judge. I’m feeling very much inclined to listen to the Paul McGann audio of this story after the TV Movie…

As for Season 17, I’ve already rated it 3/8/5 if Shada’s not included. With Shada it leaps slightly to 3.83/5. But, much as I’ve never been much bothered about what’s “canon” or not, as there’s so little of Shada left I’m not much inclined to think of it as a full Doctor Who story. A shame, as judging by what we’ve got it could have been great.

Doctor Who: City of Death

Part One

“Do you mean an alien’s trying to steal the Mona Lisa?”

“It’s a very pretty painting.”

For these cash-strapped times we begin with some shockingly excellent modelwork far superior to anything we’ve seen recently. And then, no less un-shoestringly, we’re in Paris, 1979. Just after leaving Skaro. Courtesy of the Randomiser for both landings. Er, yes…

Of course, this story is flawless in every way (well, there’s one piffling little thing in a later episode, but that can wait) so I’m having to try very hard not to spend the whole review gushing and quoting bits of funny dialogue or people might assume I’m the sort of person who does that in conversation, which simply wouldn’t do. So I’ll not quote any of the dialogue from the Eiffel Tower in an attempt to ration myself. It’s all fab though. And so, unusually, is Dudley Simpson’s incidental music. 

I realise what was going on off screen, but for me there’s absolutely no doubt that what we see here on screen is the Doctor and Romana obviously being a couple. The doctor’s clearly been dancing. Look at all the holding hands and the body language as they frolic amongst Notre Dame, the Place de la Concorde, and the Louvre. Oh, and Paris is very pretty by the way.

What’s that Romana just said? “Braxiatel Collection”? Pah! we’ll be heating no more of that, I’m sure.

There’s some nice directing from Michael Hayes, not at all harmed by the location- I love the shot through the postcard rack with the postcard removed. Through all these scenes Duggan is following our heroes, but within minutes settles down to the companion role for our two Doctors.

Interesting cliffhanger- we’ve established from the talk of playing games that the Countess is aware she’s basically just Scarlioni’s beard, but she doesn’t know the half of it…

Part Two

“What I don’t understand is why a man who’s got six Mona Lisas wants to go to all the trouble of stealing a seventh.”

Oh dear, the scene where the Doctor, Romana and Duggan are brought before the Countess and the Count is so damn quotable that I could spend the whole of the next page just quoting from it. But I’ll restrict myself to “My dear, no one could be as stupid as he seems”. Julian Glover is utterly perfect in the way he delivers his lines. It helps that he’s clearly loving it. Even the fact that the room is designed to fit a concept of what’s classy that, er, may have dated just a little, doesn’t detract from this perfect scene.

There’s a nice in-joke after our heroes are locked in the cellar where the Doctor asks Duggan if he’s like to “stay on as my scientific advisor?”, but that’s enough quotage for now. Honest. Other great stuff includes the Count’s lecture on how the Mona Lisa is going to be stolen, Duggan hitting people and the unravelling of the plot. 

Best of all though is the cliffhanger- I love the way Peter Halliday’s mercenary says of Captain Tancredi “He’ll be here instantly”- nicely postmodern, that- and it’s Scarlioni…

Part Three

“You know what I don’t understand?”

“I expect so.”

Hmmm, so the Jagaroth ship exploded 400 million years ago, not, say, 4.6 billion, and we’ll be given this figure again and again. I shall pretend this isn’t happening though as I insist this story is perfect in all ways.

I love Scarlioni / Tancredi’s “I think it’s time we conducted this conversation more formally” before calling for the thumbscrews- but I’m quoting again. Just one more; “When you work for the Borgias, you’ll believe anything!” The Mona Lisa plot becomes clear- Scarlioni is getting Leonardo to paint a further six of them in 1505 so that once he’s stolen the one in the Louvre in 1979 he’ll have seven of them, one each for every potential buyer. Except that the Doctor has just written “This is a fake” on all of them in felt tip. Brilliant!

Meanwhile, we have the Romana / Duggan team-up. Twice Romana sneaks into a building and twice Duggan smashes through a window! Once we’re back to Scarlioni, though, we get my only problem with this story- Scarlioni’s splintered selves being responsible for the pyramids, fire, the wheel and the mapping of the heavens. I don’t like it when it’s implied that humans aren’t clever enough to do all those things so aliens must have done them. Still, one gripe ain’t bad.

There’s something a bit peculiar about this episode though- in the scene where the Doctor walks into the café to enquire about Romana and Duggan, with the television in the background showing (in English, apparently!) the news of the Mona Lisa being stolen, there’s a man at the bar, who appears in no other scene, and says “I’ll see you, eh?” as he takes his leave. This looks very much like a cameo to me- not Douglas Adams, surely?

Part Four

“On the contrary, Doctor, you’re going to help me.”

“I am?”

“You are indeed. And if you do not, it will be so much the worse for you, for this young lady and for several other people I could mention if I happened to have the Paris telephone directory on my person.”

Poor professor! Interesting conversation between Scarlioni and Romana afterwards, though. It’s here that it strikes me what a mind-blowingly paradoxical concept it is to have splinters of Scaroth scattered through time- the later splinters must have their personal timelines altered many times by the earlier ones.

The professor’s death is followed by that of the Countess (I rather liked her). There follows a race against time in which we get to see some of the bits of Paris we missed out on in Part One such as the Arc de Triomphe and, er, some taxis. But just at the point the Doctor and co, anxious to travel back and stop Scaroth, reach the TARDIS, we get another fab scene with Eleanor Bron and yer actual John Cleese. This is roughly the last point where the possibility of this story being ranked anything less than the top spot so far disappeared utterly. Even the fact that prehistoric Earth features an obvious matte painting doesn’t detract from anything.

And the ending is perfect. Duggan’s punch saves the day! The Doctor has arranged for one of the Moma Lisas with “This is a fake!” written on it in felt tip to be hung in the Louvre, but that’s fine because it’s what it looks like that matters. Wow.

Well, that was stonkingly good, perfect, genius. 5/5, obviously. The best story so far, easily. For the first time in 13 years we have a story that’s actually better than The Massacre. I’m still reeling from how good it was. There’s a reason for my policy of rationing my viewings of this story to avoid diluting the pleasure of each viewing!

Doctor Who: The Pirate Planet

Part One
 

“That is a forbidden object.”

“Why?”

“That is a forbidden question. You are a stranger?”

“Yes.”

“Strangers are forbidden.”

For the second story in a row it’s clear that the sometimes embarrassing production values of last season aren’t going to be repeated- the model city is nicely designed, and the sets and costumes are all more than acceptable. But the real joy of this story is the dialogue- Douglas Adams has arrived at last, the Graham Williams era has finally found itself, and there’s a real sense that, after last season’s missteps, things are going to be all right.

Some interesting dialogue in the TARDIS at the start, incidentally- the Doctor’s been operating the TARDIS for 523 years, which would make him 236 when he nicked it, if he is indeed 759 as Romana says (interesting he gets his own age wrong, especially in the light of Steven Moffat’s recent-ish comments that a time traveller would inevitably lose track of their own age). If the Doctor was about 450 in Tomb then he can’t have been more than a few years younger at his regeneration as there have always been companions around who haven’t visibly aged. So the first Doctor was travelling for over 200 years, a long time, and all but the last few of them before An Unearthly Child. No doubt that’s exactly what this production team meant to imply, and it was in no way a throwaway comment…

Anyway, there are great sci-fi concepts all over the place from the very start- the planet Calufrax seems to have gone missing, and for some reason the Captain (great character, great over-the-top performance by Bruce Purchase and a great double act with Mr Fibuli) can occasionally declare a golden age of prosperity at the drop of a hat, following which all the mines on Zanak will fill up with stuff. The population are rich, free from hard work and satisfied with their lot, but they’re not allowed to ask questions and seem to be menaced by the mysterious Mentiads. Great set up. This is all fab so far.

Part Two

“Such hospitality. I’m underwhelmed.”

We got a flavour of Douglas Adams’ dialogue genius last episode, but here’s where it really clicks into gear. Romana’s attitude to being arrested is great for a start, not only because it’s very witty but because it’s possibly the first time we see Romana essentially acting as a female version of the Doctor. We’ll be seeing a lot more of this sort of thing, but this is surprisingly early.

Mostly, though, the lines are just great in themselves: “Standing around all day looking tough must be very wearing on the nerves, hmm? Long hours, violence, no intellectual stimulation…” So good a line, in fact, that Douglas Adams used it twice. And it’s also a bit of a giveaway that he’s more or less writing Ford Prefect and Tom’s Doctor as the same character, and it works.

Of course, we get the big reveal that Zanak has been landing around other planets to mine them dry. As a result, Kimus gets the best line of the story: “Bandraginus Five, by every last breath in my body, you’ll be avenged!” I love this kind of arch silliness where even the character knows full well he’s a cliché and acts accordingly.

Oh, and that nurse hanging around in the background seems to have a fair bit of influence on the Captain…

Part Three

“You mean, they slammed him to the wall with good vibrations?”

“Affirmative.”

Of course, Pralix is now a Mentiad, and they’ve been goodies all along anyway. I love the way this story’s so jammed full of ideas we keep getting big revelations every five minutes. For all the greatness of the dialogue, the plot’s actually pretty great too. And things are happening- the nurse continues to be very mysterious, the relationship between the Captain and Mr Fibuli continues to be comedy gold (“Excellent, Mr Fibuli. Your death shall be delayed.”), and K9 gets to fight that Polyphase Aviton thingy.

The highlight of this episode is the only serious moment in pretty much the entire story though. The whole “Appreciate it?” speech reminds us that the Doctor, bohemian studenty type though he has been of late, still has the same principles and capacity for moral outrage.

All this, and the great ideas keep coming, even this late in the story- Queen Xanxia being suspended in her last few seconds of life is a fantastic concept.

Part Four

“All guards, alert! Someone is using a counter-jamming frequency projector. Find it and destroy it immediately."

"I don't suppose any of the guards know what a counter-jamming frequency projector looks like."

"Destroy everything!”

We’ve had a lot of cliffhanger resolutions over the years, and they fall into a lot of different types. But I think this is our first example of the “everything you thought you knew is wrong” cliffhanger resolution. Brilliant. Suddenly it’s clear that it was Xanxia, not the Captain, who was in charge all along. And she wants immortality. That’ll work out well then.

There’s a typically great scene where Xanxia offhandedly notices the door is open, the Doctor says “I’ll close it”, Xanxia distractedly replies “Thank you”, and the Doctor makes his escape. That’s good writing, both funny and serving the plot.

The ending may be a little weak- the CSO spanner doesn’t look very good, and it’s a bit of a stretch that the Doctor can mentally commune with the Mentiads from inside the TARDIS, especially when close to Earth. But still, a great final episode apart from these minor glitches.

Fantastic. Such a witty script, but all in the service of a great bubbling story bubbling with dozens of great sci-fi concepts. 5/5.