First Men in the Moon (1964)

"Not married?!! Kindly leave the room!"

It rather pleases my geek sensibilities to see that Ray Harryhausen worked on a film co-written by Nigel Kneale. Harryhausen isn't really called upon to do much in comparison with some of his other work, but this is still a damned fine adaptation of H.G. Wells' little parable on the evils of capitalism.

I note, of course, that the baddie is a Mr. Bedford- sounds a well dodgy type, although I have no idea why "Julius" was changed to "Arnold" for the film. Rather spoils the "Caesar in Gaul" subtext.

It's 1964. The late St John F. Kennedy of blessed memory has alteady vowed to put a man on the moon by the end of the decade, and both superpowers are quite visibly and excitingly progressing towards that age. Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, when the future was not yet passé. They would have been appalled to discover that, as of 2016, no one has set foot on the moon for a staggering 44 years. It was a very different age, but also a very different age from 1901 when the novel was published. So it's good to see the story bookended by modern day sections in which astronauts discover evidence of Cavor's exploits. It's rather utopian to propose a multinational UN mission, though. And rather fanciful to suggest that the Yank and the Russian would be joined by a Brit...!

Still, it frames the film nicely. It's surprisingly late on until our (anti-)heroes reach the Moon, but the design and effect is fantastic much they do. I'm reminded visually of The Daleks, a Doctor Who story of the same year: must have been something in the zeitgeist.

It's an excellent version of a much under-utilised novel, in spite of it's largely unknown cast. That ending, though? Shameless rip-off from The War of the Worlds. H.G. Wells should sue himself.

Doctor Who: The Deadly Assassin

Part One

“Oh, I say! Weren’t you expelled or something? Some scandal?”

How strange- a full year before Star Wars, and we get a voiceover by Tom alongside a rolling caption thingy. In context this is very odd- not only does it instantly make this story stand out from the stories surrounding it and seem “epic” and “big”, it also blurs the boundaries between form and content in a way Doctor Who arguably has not done since the likes of The Gunfighters and The Feast of Steven. Instantly we sense the rules are different, and indeed it turns out that they are- as a traveller the Doctor is used to the leeway he is given as an outsider to behave eccentrically, but here on his home planet, where he’s a “convicted criminal” of no particular notoriety, this doesn’t get him anywhere. Everything is different.

Much about this first episode has a dislocating effect; the Doctor is travelling alone, and the plot springs from a prophetic dream experienced by the Doctor, not the sort of device the series traditionally employs. And it’s just unbelievable how every throwaway line, every costume, every prop, every piece of design, seems to establish some little thing which will help to establish how Gallifrey will be portrayed from this point on. There are so many firsts in the first few minutes alone- the Presidency; Time Lord robes; the Capitol; the Chancery Guards and their distinctive red uniforms; the Doctor’s TARDIS being referred to as a “Type Forty”- and there’ll be a lot more along in a minute. And in a way that’s a shame, as it tends to obscure The Deadly Assassin as a story in itself, with its political subtext and design aesthetic which deserve to be appreciated on their own terms rather than be thought of just in terms of continuity.

As a blatantly hypocritical aside, though, we get some interesting continuity stuff- it’s meaningless without a context to put it in, really, but we’re still told that The War Games took place in the Time Lord year 309,906. And is it the first time we’re told that earth is in “Mutter’s Spiral”, presumably the Time Lords’ name for the Milky Way Galaxy?

There’s some stuff that’s fun aside from all this mythological malarkey too- there are many things I was expecting to see in this episode but a hookah wasn’t one of them! And there are plenty of political asides- the CIA, of course, but also “His Supremacy” the President has a “resignation honours list”, confiding to his underling that there are “some names here that will surprise them.” I wonder if there’s a Time Lady called Marcia Williams?

More revelations come thick and fast. Chancellor Goth is played by Bernard Horsfall- they can’t seriously expect us not to assume he’s that bloke from the tribunal. We are also introduced to Gallifreyan script and another pile of firsts- the Castellan (this one’s likeable from the start, very much the put-upon decent copper), cardinals, the Panopticon, and the various aristocratic Time Lord orders- the Prydonians, the Arcalians, the Patrexes “and so on”, each of which has its own design of “seldom-worn” robe. 

Fascinatingly, the Doctor is revealed to be a Prydonian- very posh, apparently- and is obliged to wear a robe. Again we see how he can’t act as he normally does on his home planet, anchored to his place in society by the chapter he belongs to and even being obliged to conform to rigid Time Lord ways of dressing by wearing his robe. And it’s very noticeable that for almost all of this story his trademark hat and scarf are absent.

Besides all this rich mythological stuff and mischievous political commentary shoved under the radar as only science fiction can make possible, there are some nicely drawn characters too. The Castellan, of course, is a character type immediately recognisable from many a whodunit, the determined, clear-minded police inspector under constant harassment from his superiors. Then there’s Cardinal Borusa- haughty, supercilious, but clearly a highly adept politician. He’s our obligatory red herring. And even the two members of the House of Lords- er, Time Lords- we overhear discussing the glory days of “Pandak III” are nicely drawn caricatures.

Oh, and there’s the Master. It’s good to see him again- it’s been ages- but it’s a shock seeing him so emaciated and literally skeletal as this, seemingly alive only through sheer will. His appearance is yet another example of great design.

Part Two

“Vaporisation without representation is against the constitution!”

So, Goth is insisting the Doctor be tried and executed quickly within 48 hours just to spare the newly elected president (ie Goth) the dilemma of whether to pardon him. How very revealing this is as regards Robert Holmes’ views on power! It’s also traditionally said to be the start of a new, more cynical, treatment of the Time Lords, but I’m not sure this is true- if we look at Holmes’ treatment of the Time Lords in Genesis of the Daleks and even the Doctor’s comments at the start of The Brain of Morbius it seems very much in keeping with all of this. And I’m not sure they were ever exactly portrayed as benevolent godlike figures right from the moment they first appeared in part ten of The War Games.

The Doctor’s being a suspect threatens to inflict on us the dullness of interminable cell scenes and interrogations, but Holmes admirably manages to sidestep this be having the Doctor escape execution, for the moment, on a technicality, which earns bonus points by itself being amusing. And as the Castellan, a competent detective, tends to believe the Doctor, the story can now focus on their investigation. That’s very good plotting. That said, there’s only one suspect, but I’m sure there’s supposed to be!

There are far fewer embellishments to the mythology this episode- although we get “Shabogans”, whoever they may be, and “Artron Energy”. But the big one is the Matrix, or the APC net as it’s called here- a depository for the recorded brain patterns of every single Time Lord, taken just before the point of death. The Doctor enters the Matrix to find, aside from a quick burst of the opening titles, a dreamscape, controlled by his mysterious opponent, full of surreal threats such as a surgeon with a syringe- surely this must have scared the kids more than any monster. As Philip Hinchcliffe says on one of the DVD documentaries, as an idea this would have been right out there in 1976!

Of course, the best thing about it is that we’re able to end on the ultimate Perils of Pauline style cliffhanger!

Part Three

“It’ll be over soon. One way or another…”

It’s quite jaw-droppingly brave to set this whole episode in an imaginary dreamscape and expect a mainstream audience in 1976 to watch it. But somehow it works. I can’t help that the cultural references are all ours, rather than Gallifreyan, which is odd considering this is Goth’s reality, but I think it’d be churlish to press that point as the whole thing not only works but manages to advance the plot by revealing the villain as… the bloke we knew it was all along. All the same, much as I hate to say this for something so genuinely experimental, it does go on a bit towards the end. It’s very noticeable how visual this all is- there’s very little dialogue, and uniquely for a Robert Holmes episode I was stumped for an opening quote!

Here’s the Doctor again using weapons, contrary to myth, this time a grenade and a blowpipe. It’s all very violent, especially the cliffhanger. I’m not sure whether we’re watching a restoration of the full scene on the DVD, so I should probably watch the relevant extra and find out.

Part Four

“You wistful, you craven-hearted, spineless poltroon!”

The Matrix stuff seems to end very suddenly, and then it seems the Master is dead and the story is over. But this episode is the rarest of phenomena; a second ending that actually works.

Before things conclude, though, we learn an awful lot of things, Apparently Goth met the Master at somewhere called “Terserus”, dying, at the “end of his regeneration cycle.” And of course this is later confirmed: “After the twelfth regeneration,” says Elgin, “nothing can postpone death.” This is quite a bombshell! For something which exists essentially to provide the Master with motivation and a backstory, this one line has had a massive effect of the programme.

There’s another gleefully cynical piece of social commentary too, of course, with Borusa’s insistence on adjusting the truth as it “will not do” to “maintain public confidence in the Time Lords and their leadership.” The way this is phrased seems to suggest that not all Gallifreyans are Time Lords.

And then there are all the scraps we’re thrown from “The Old Time”. There is the first mention of Rassilon, now thought of as founder of Time Lord civilisation, but thought of by his contemporaries more as an engineer and architect- so not a politician, presumably. His relics are the Sash of Rassilon, worn by the President, and the Great Key, both of which relate to the Eye of Harmony, the domesticated black hole from which Gallifrey draws its power. Apparently Rassilon, not Omega, is responsible for harnessing the black hole- how does this square with what we learn of Omega in The Three Doctors, then?

Enough of such matters. The Master, of course, is not dead, and we get our final(ish) battle between the Doctor and the Master, with the fate of Gallifrey and a large chunk of the surrounding area of space at stake. And, even better, the hatch from Tomb of the Cybermen seems to make a reappearance. The Master survives, of course, and is seen leaving in his TARDIS, shaped like a grandfather clock. The Doctor leaves too, having been awarded “nine out of ten” by Borusa. But wait! Weren’t he and Goth the only two candidates for the presidency? Surely that means-

4/5, missing out on the top mark because the script simply had so many jobs to do. But this was genuinely groundbreaking in so many ways. Doctor Who is on fire at the moment.

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.