Children of the Stones: Full Circle

 "I think you have an exaggerated sense of your own importance..."

And so it ends... rather suddenly, but entertainingly. I'm not sure I understand what was going on, what with all this exposition about black holes, transmission, ley lines, Hendricks as some kind of sin eater, and the locals turning to stone, perhaps hinting at the origins of stone circles? Then there's Dai being alive again, Matt's theory about a "time trap" and Hendricks appearing anew at the end.

And Adam and Matt- a teenager- are exhibiting genius level of behaviour here in their father-and-son clever clogs display. They have throughout, but this episode really pushes it, with both of them being experts on all things from black holes to atomic clocks. But there's heart, too, as we feel the emotions with Adam and Margaret parting.

I'm not sure this episode quite sticks the landing- it's atmospheric, but bewilderingly confusing. Did they write themselves into a corner? Still, overall the series is all I was expecting from this well-known classic programme from the year of my birth. It's very, very 1970s in so many fascinating ways.

Children of the Stones: Squaring the Circle

 "There's no way out until the stones release us..."

This penultimate episode is the most gripping yet, from start to finish. Margaret and Sandra are now "happy", and the tension is superb as Adam and Matt gradually realise this. They're now alone in an increasingly claustrophobic village. It feels as though there's nothing they can do.

The attempt to leave the village fails, of course, in beautifully surreal scenes which are a triumph of trippy and imaginative direction. And they wake in Hendricks' house, as "guests", seemingly with no escape as villagers surround the house. 

Iain Cuthbertson is magnificent here, both urbane and sinister as, at last, he verbally spars with our father and son protagonists in his avuncular way. Yet, once again, it's the mood that lingers in the mind. I begin to wonder whether what's going on will be given some kind of explanation, or whether it may in fact be better if it isn't.

I have no idea how this can possibly end. But it truly is one of the greats of children's television.

Children of the Stones- Charmed Circle

 "Perceptive and formidable..."

An extraordinary gripping episode, this, with a pleasingly earned bit of exposition and the sinister Mr. Hendricks, portrayed to perfection by the splendid Iain Cuthbertson, moving very much to the foreground with his presence a constant. We get to see more of his extraordinary home at the centre of the circle... and it's a nice surprise to see good old John Woodnutt as his butler. 

Hendricks' creepy gaslighting about Dai's death is hugely effective, compounded by the disappearance of the body. But our intrepid foursome make some fascinating discoveries- the people in the painting seem to exactly number the population of the village. Discrepancies between painting and chart suggest one of the stones may move. And the amulet (with a jolt of static electricity) puts young Matthew in a bit of a trance, following which things get delightfully weird.

Which is handy because, with the four of them being the only villagers who are not "happy", Hendricks has only them to convert. And, with Margaret and Sandra invited to dinner, Matt gets to watch their extraordinarily gripping conversion from afar, with white light pouring down as their faces change. The whole setting looks amazing, and the acting really succeeds in building up the tension.

This is good, creepy, atmospheric, old-fashioned plot-driven telly. Every episode just gets better and better. 

Children of the Stones- Narrowing Circle

 "And then there were six..."

The halfway point and the mystery, and the mood, continue to deepen. Theories are made about how people, household by household, become "happy". There's speculation that Dai may be immune from living in the "Sanctuary" and that the ever-creepy Hendricks may be so because he lives right at the centre of the ley lines.

Yet it feels as though the net is tightening. We feel the tension for Adam, Margaret, Matthew and Sandra... especially after Matt's weird experiences with Dr Lyle's gloves, as he sees the good doctor try and fail to drive out of the village due to some kind of force... after which he's "happy". It's all quite engrossing, especially as young Kevin is got at, seemingly at the same time, leading to poor Dai's death, and to a deeply impressive, creepy performance from a child actor.

Then there's the subtle flirting between Adam and Margaret. It's understated, because '70s telly could do understatement, but it's there. And then there's the two of them stopping to talk to the increasingly sinister Hendricks, who insists that he can't possibly take part in all the dancing as he has to "maintain his position". There's more than a hint of a subtext here, of the stifling conformity of life in a small village.

But it's all about slowly removing each layer from the onion as gripping mysteries unravel, as the mood remains unsettling and we have another excellent cliffhanger...

Children of the Stones, Part 3- Serpent in the Circle

 "I feel things..."

The intrigue very much continues here. It's 1977, times were different then, and I very much like how no big deal is made on the part of Adam as to what Matt was up to the previous night- these days, so much drama would be made of that, getting hugely in the way of things. Fortunately, we get only token friction here before the fascinating plot takes centre stage, as it should. Oh, and I probably ought to once again prose the atmospheric location, direction and music, lest I forgot.

So we left the villagers all singing, except a small and decreasing number of families who are not "happy"- I love the bond between the three kids determined not to be "happy", as it does rather seem a somewhat miserable existence. There's some nice hints about Dai and the "Sanctuary", with a few cryptic statements about things he "feels", both danger and knowledge... and a brass rubbing of an artifact with a serpent. Oh, and summat to do with the alignment of the magnetic field means there must have been a recent influx of energy.

Then Adam gets a telegram(!) in the pub... ah, the year of my birth seems so long ago. It seems that the area the central stone is pointing to is a black hole, remnant of a supernova observed a few hundreds of years BC... and Mr Hendricks, his drinking companion, played (as ever) with deliciously sinister joviality by Iain Cuthbertson, happens to know, and seemingly believe, a few legends about it.

Cue the true existential horror that is Morris dancing.... and the revelation that more and more villagers are becoming "happy". This is gripping stuff that draws you further in with each layer of the metaphorical onion.

Children of the Stones, Part 2- Circle of Fear

 "Don't meddle with the stones!"

Another episode suffused with atmosphere, as we (and Adam, Matt and Margaret) dig further into the mysteries of the stones... and the villagers. It rather helps that we have a very scientifically clever father/son combo as leads, with Margaret there for the history, folklore and superstition.

One has to smile at the innocence of those days, though- Matt just expected to be off on his bike for much of the day, and absolutely no concerns at the very intriguing Dai (the textbook example of the "rural and superstitious person" trope that all programmes like this absolutely require) simply inviting himself round when Matt is alone in the cottage.

But the mysteries of the stones deepen. Ley lines stopping at the circle's edge, with Hendricks' house in the centre? All the stones at a perfect ninety degree angle? The clues are given to us, bit by bit, at a perfect pace. and then... the suggestion that the stones are "a primitive Jodrell Bank" pointing at something out there in the stars, but the space is empty...

The last few minutes are atmospheric and perfect, as the camera has us look again at the painting and then Matt, in evocatively shot outdoor footage, sees the whole village singing at the stones... and this time it's for him to touch the stone and collapse...

Slow burn, addictive and brilliant. 

Children of the Stones, Part 1- Into the Circle

 "I deny the existence of that which exists."

Happy day!

One episode in, and I'm hooked. No, actually... I was hooked by the deeply atmospheric opening titles, with the uncanniness of both the music and the splendidly unsettling way the stones (actually the Avebury Stone Circle) are shot. The mood throughout is utterly superb.

And so are the performances. A pre-Blake's 7 Gareth Thomas as Professor Adam Brake gives us a charismatic lead. Iain Cuthbertson, as landlord Mr Hendricks, is... well, the jovial yet unsettling character that Cuthbertson always plays, which is a very good thing indeed. Even the kids can act.

And, of course, there's the sheer joy of seeing the England of 1977, the time and place of my birth. the cars, the fashions, the shop interiors, the bikes, the hairstyles, even the very 1970s style woo and nonsense- ley lines and all that, so deeply ingrained that Adam can pooh pooh ley lines at one moment and then happily plan some "electronic dowsing" in the next.

Best of all, though, is the gradual unravelling of what's going on. Some of the kids are "happy" and others are not. And being "happy" seems to mean genius intellect but also blind obedience... almost a kind of psychic link and control? And then there's the mysterious painting, Matt's weird visions, and that cliffhanger...

This is very good stuff. 

Knights of God: Episode 13

" The king had to be found within yourself.”

Sigh. This has been a pretty good series, but this final episode is profoundly disappointing.

I mean, it all falls into place so conveniently. The civil war, with Mordrin finally killing Hugo, is so convenient for the royalist rebels to take over. All the messy stuff of reestablishing power and democracy is just handwaved. And Mordrin is literally shot while crowning himself. Still, thd cliffhanger resolution, with Gervase and Julia both saved by their mutual love, is cute.

Not cute enough to save the episode, though. And there’s definitely a whiff of un-British flag shagging here. The national anthem is sung. The closing titles are changed to the Union Flag. None of these things are inherently bad, of course- national symbols do not and should not belong to the far right- but, within the world this series has so carefully built, this is just not realistic. Better to end with the Knights still in charge but with a sense of hope.

The episode is also rushed, leaving it all to the end, so it’s all plot with no focus on character. It’s sad that a series I was enjoying should end like this.

Knights of God: Episode 12

 "Noooo!"

Well, that’s certainly a twist. SPOILER alert.

It’s now clear why we have the contrast between Gervase and  Mordrin, with his crown and delusions of kingship, which he’s now finally shared with his close friend Brother Simon, seemingly the only knight who doesn’t think he’s a nutter… yet.

We have a lot of tension around Gervase and Julia travelling to a little island to be told by a monk whom the king is. There’s a mystery: Arthur knows. So why did Arthur not just tell them? And, of course, Gervase is still conditioned to kill Mordrin’s enemy.

I saw the twist coming halfway through: Gervase is the king, smuggled out as an infant. It makes sense, given the early hints about his destiny. This twist is quite ingenious, and very Arthurian. One episode to wrap up, though…

Knights of God: Episode 11

 "Not toys now. Real."

There's a distinct feeling, and an odd one, as this often briliant and very '80s dark dystopian thriller draws to a close. In many ways it feels radical- yet the tools of revolution are the monarchy and the established church. We even have the Archbishop's seat of Canterbury as a Vatican-style independent state. It's decidedly odd, and small-c conservative, but the overall feel is not reactionary.

There are contrasts. Mordrin is losing his grip on reality, a Cromwell or Caesar who decides to take the crown, an act which coincides with the Knights, spurred by Hugo, turning against him. Meanwhile, Owen Edwards' rebels are proving both successful and hubristic... to the fury of Edwards himself, who stops the killing of prisoners and is full of self-doubt... a clearly intentional contrast to Mordrin.

Suddenly there are lots of things happening and nothing feels stable. Julia's unsuspecting father is to be sentenced to death. Hogo sends assassins after Julia and Gervase, who are about to be told by the archbishop where the king is until the assassins throw all into chaos. All the ryal stuff is a little neat, perhaps, but the plotting here is admirable.

I have no idea where this is going. But I'm impressed.

Knights of God: Episode 9

 "Let him be a fisherman..."

The plot gets thicker and thicker in this pivotal episode which, presumably, thrusts us into the final narrative. The cliffhanger is unexpected: Arthur is not the fated enemy of Mordrin whom Gervase is programmed to kill, despite his name, for there are hints that this person is the "rightful king", as per Arthurian myth. We learn that Hugo slaughtered all the royals for the Knights... yet is some rightful king alive? Perhaps someone we have unknowingly met?

It is interesting that Mordrin may be seeking to crown himself... is he a Cromwell or a Julius Caesar in that respect? The parallel plotting between him and Hugo is utterly gripping... and ends the only possible way it could have, with Hugo in a cell, stripped of all status.

Yet Gervase and Julia are no better off. All faith is lost; with the programming, Gervase is seemingly of no use for his long-planned purpose, although Julia has faith. And then, another bombshell: a kangaroo court is demanded by the militia of the South Yorkshire "Wastelands", and realpolitik forces Arthur to outlaw them both, perhaps fortunate to escape hanging, although of course capital punishment is the recourse of the tyrant, a practice that does not behoove those who claim to believe in freedom.

The status quo is changed. This episode is eventful, fast-paced and deeply shocking. I'm genuinely clueless as to what will happen next.

Knights of God: Episode 8

 "You can call me Arthur..."

There was me thinking this episode was going to be about Gervase and Julia in the "Wasteland" with Don Henderson and his rough Yorkshire "terrorists", and at first it seems that way. Instead, Arthur turns up almost immediately.

There arev revelations. Brigadier Clark, seen palling with Arthur last episode, is Julia's father. And Mordrin is Arthur's son! Everyone- Gervase's parents included, gets together to plan their next move as Gervase suffers the inner conflict caused by Mordrin's suggestion in his mind, a suggestion he doesn't want to carry out.

The parley between Arthur and Mordrin seems to happen too easily- a dictator allowing himself to be searched for weapons by rebels as Hugo plots a coup behind his back? Yet the cliffhanger is deeply effective, with Gervase seemingly about to kill Arthur.

This continues to be exciting, although parts of the plot are becoming a little shaky in places. Still, we get lots of Patrick Troughton so all is right with the world.

Knights of God: Episode 4

 "All hail the knights of God!"

This episode isn't quite as intensely totalitarian as the last one, and that's sauying something, as the main focus is on Gervase's brainwashing, done through typical fascist techniques alongside a little light experimental use of drugs, courtest of Michael Sheard as a very British Dr Mengele.

The drectorial style, wisely, avoids trippiness here: it would not suit the bleak, fascist aesthetic as Gervase is initiated, via a creepy ceremony, into the Knights of God. His brainwashing is oddly believable, even to the point of subjugating Wales, pursuing the rebels' mysterious leader... and betraying his own father. But I suspect his loyalty would be tested were he to discover that Julia has escaped... and been shot while doing so. Is she dead?

Meanwhile we're intruducted to Nigel Stock as Brother Simon, Mordrin's right hand man, while Hugo continues to archly plot and be performatively resentful. This is certainly leading to conflict.

An eventful episode, then, for a mere twenty-fice minutes. This continues to be very, very good.

Knights of God: Episode 2

 "Worshipping a god of power, strength, and vengeance..."

We begin with a "previously on"... and then it's straight to a concenttration camp. In England. It's not an extermination camp, but it's bloody grim, a place of brainwashing, indoctrination and mind crushing military style discipline without purpose. We see, too, that Prior Mordrin can only maintain a semblance of order by the ceraseless executions of those who would be free.

It's grim. It's bleak. This 2020 may actually be worse than the one we got, and that's saying something.

We get a bit of exposition- throughout the '90s there was conflict between a rich south and a poor north, an interesting perspectibve from the Thatcherite '80s, leading to civil war. And somehow the Knights of God took over, replacing Christianity with a harsh religion of vengeance. Like the concentration camps, this has certain historical echoes.

Gervase suffers the camps but is slowly falling in love with the rather lovely Julia. Shre has a plan to escape via, er, being put in the cooler. It's a good thing too. Because his dad Owen is rumbled, tipped off by Arthur in another delightful scene between Gareth Edwards and Patrick Troughton. But they'rer on to Owen and, via their incredible futuristic computer power, they're on to Gervase.

This is excellent stuff. But bloody hell it's dark for kids' telly.

Knights of God: Episode 1

 "You've got to live. For all of us."

I have only the vaguest of memories of seeing bits of this in 1987 when I was young, and it's been unavailable since, so I know not what to expect. What's that, you ask? How am I seeing this? Oh look. A squirrel.

Anyway, this first episode is an outstanding piece of worldbuilding, a very 80s cross between Arthurian legend and a V for Vendetta type vaguely dystopian, Fascist future. John Woodnutt is dictator of the South and Midlands, he has recently conquered a defiant Wales, but the North remains free and lawless, called a "wasteland". The Knights of God rule a land called "Anglia" from Winchester, as London is ruined. There are direct parallels here with Anglo-Saxon England where the same was true.

This fits Arthurian myth perfectly: Arthur defeated the Saxons at Badon; presumably young Gervase, seemingly fated by legend, will pull some sort of sword from some sort of stone within these thirteen episodes.

Even more intriguingly, Gervase is watched over by an older, Welsh accented Gareth Thomas as Owen, and he is seen talking to a white-bearded Patrick Troughton, whose character seems to be called "Arthur". I'm loving this so far.

Hammer House of Horror: Visitor from the Grave

 "Be a good girl, and do exactly what I tell you!"

Trigger warning: violent sexual assault is very prominent here.

This is, on a storytelling level, a good episode. The twist at the end is superb, the performances are good and it pretty much acieves what it sets out to do. The direction from Peter Sasdy is particularly magnificent.

And yet there's something uncomfortable about the basic concept: a man breaks into a woman's home, tries to rape her, is shot dead and appears as a ghost to attract "revenge". This is the use of violent stranger rape as entertainment without any real social subtext, something that wouldn't be done these days.

On the other hand, Harry is creepy, and that's done deliberately. It's not overdone, but I think we're meant to see his relationship with the much wealthier but mentally ill and vulnerable Penny as one of coercive control. There's a subtlety to the characterisation here which is impressive. Kathryn Leigh Scott and Simon MacCorkindale are both superb in portraying this dynamic.

This is a disturbing episode, mainly to do with the treatment of rape, but I can't deny it's impressively written and made.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: Series 1- The Naval Treaty

"Help yourself to tobacco from the Persian slipper!"

SPOILERS

Apparent diplomatic intrigue as a treaty is stolen, seemingly by an agent of the French or the Russians; there's even a red herring with a French-sounding name. But the real culprit is, of course, obvious; he's played by the most famous actor, which tends to be a dead giveaway, in this case the sometime star of Blake's 7.

There's a lot here to remind us of just how weird late Victorian times were, though. Percy Phelps is what they used to call "highly strung", a condition not much seen nowadays. But he's posh, well-connected, and has managed to get himself a much sought-after job in the foreign office as an... office dogsbody. Yes, this posh bloke does the late Victorian equivalent of the photocopying for a living.

The tale is well told, bookended by amusing scenes of Holmes doing chemistry with a proper chemistry set complete with various weirdly-shaped glass vessels and bubbling liquids. Holmes, contemplating a beautiful flower, reveals his belief in a superior being. And we have the first of many resentful and contrary inspectors, in contrast to The Dancing Men's fawning example. And that's two superb episodes in a row.

Blake's 7: Blake

“Stand still! Have you betrayed us? Have you betrayed me?”

So, it’s Chris Boucher who gets to write the last episode, not Terry Nation after all. I suppose Terry really was properly in America by this point.

Isn’t this exciting? Even the very first thing that happens- the Scorpio leaving Xenon for the last time as our heroes blow up their now compromised base- reminds us that this is it; from this point onwards there is no reset button and anything can happen.

Of course, this being the final episode, it has the luxury of being largely about the series’ own mythology in a way which the series up to now has rather wisely resisted. But this is entirely appropriate, of course, and it fits in nicely with the series’ running themes and threads. The increasing sense of desperation that has run through Season Four reaches a head for; our heroes’ ambitious plan has failed, they are now homeless vagrants in a tatty old ship, and one last desperate throw of the dice is needed. Avon’s words about needing a new figurehead may sound as cynical as always, but there’s a real sense that in resorting to Blake he’s clutching at straws. For one thing, this represents a real loss of faith; for all Avon’s talk of “idealists” needing “direction” from the likes of himself, he is essentially admitting that he has failed as leader and that it’s time to reassert the hierarchy against which he once rebelled.

Blake himself is a shocking site; not only is he physically scarred, with his sight seemingly lost in one eye, but we see him in the least glamorous surroundings we could possibly have imagined. Worse, he’s revealed to be a bounty hunter: has he abandoned all his principles for the most amoral lifestyle possible? There’s one hint that this may not be true: he freely admits his name to Arlen, his captive, and there seems to be no consequences to her later revealing this information to Blake’s Federation employer. At first this seems to be a hole in the plot but, as we later discover, it hints that all may not be as it seems.

Orac has traced Blake to Gauda Prime, which we now learn is Soolin’s home planet. At last, in the final episode of the series, she acquires a hinterland and an identity! The planet has officially been declared lawless, purely so the mining companies can evict farmers from their lucrative land, but now wish to reverse this now that money is being made! This is a great concept, reminiscent of Westerns and nicely pointing forward to the series I’m going to move on to after Blake’s 7! (Hint: it’s American, 21^st century, sci-fi, and the most appropriate follow-up series possible!)

In order to have the Federation re-impose law, such authorities as exist are hiring bounty hunters to assassinate all known troublemakers so that any future laws stand some chance of being enforced. Sadly, this comes too late for Soolin’s entire family, but at least she got her revenge in while she still could.

Anything can happen during this episode, though, and when the Scorpio is shot down we’re made very aware that this could be the end for the ship ands at least some of the crew, although of course the minutes left to be filled do rather hint at some survivors. This means we get a nice bit of misdirection: Tarrant is unable to teleport away with the others and it really seems that he’s about to die. In the end, he doesn’t, but that’s it for Scorpio. And Slave’s final words are even a bit poignant.

Tarrant is soon accosted, and apparently rescued by Blake, and taken in a flyer back to base, being told along the way that Jenna is dead (ensuring of course that, by the end of the episode, there are no survivors at all from the crews of the Liberator and Scorpio!). Dayna, Soolin and Vila are meanwhile making a right mess of things until Avon comes and sorts then out. Still, Avon has Orac, he has a plan, and he has a flier. All he needs to do is follow the other nearby flier back to base. Simple as. What could possibly go wrong?

Blake gets Tarrant back to base, and immediately seems to sell him out to the Federation. Tarrant runs away, but Blake seems unconcerned. He explains to his accomplice Deva (David Collings) that Tarrant will lead them to two bigger prizes: Avon and Orac. The dialogue is cleverly ambiguous here, but seems on the surface to imply that Blake is a traitor. It’; all a bit ominous; what if Avon and co should burst in at an awkward moment?

Oh, look. They have. Oh dear. And all mere seconds after Blake, talking to Deva, makes it clear that this is all part of elaborate plan to recruit capable people against the Federation.

Paul Darrow has never been better; the anguish in his voice as he asks whether Blake has betrayed him is haunting, as is the look in Gareth Thomas’s eyes as the dying Blake, shot three times by Avon, stares at him in disbelief.

It’s all gone horribly wrong; from this point there’s no hope for anyone. I’d heard that Avon’s fate, at least, was a bit ambiguous, but that isn’t the impression that I get. Fittingly, they all meet their ends at the hands of faceless minions of the system. As in 1984. Totalitarianism wins.

That was an amazing programme. Yes, there was the odd bad episode, many elements have dated, there could be a certain campness, and story arcs were less distinct than in modern television, but Blake’s 7 is generally well-written, well-acted and is at times a fascinating little meditation on totalitarianism.

Right. Torchwood tomorrow, and of course I’ll carry on with Doctor Who until the current season ends. I’ll be a bit less prolific over the next couple of weeks (real life intrudes, alas), so there might be the odd film review for a bit before I properly start reviewing the next programme…

Blake's 7: Terminal

“Incidentally, you should always be careful about getting a second hand spacecraft. They can be very unreliable.”

Ooh, Terry Nation’s back for the season finale! Surely he would have been in California for about a year now? We are indeed privileged!

Avon’s gone all mysterious; he’s taking the ship to some mysterious location for some kind of “rendezvous”, and he goes all mardy whenever anyone else tries to go on to the flight deck. Everyone else has got the message and is leaving him alone. Dayna and Cally are playing space chess, if you believe the dialogue, or Space Monopoly, if you believe the props department.

Tarrant, of course, has a go at confronting Avon, but it’s no use; Avon is at this point indisputably top dog. He’s changed course, and he won’t say where or why. Even more strangely, he receives a message and then sets off to a new location. It’s just like a galactic treasure hunt. And Avon’s in a hurry; he’s not even prepared to avoid a possibly dangerous cloud of fluid, and proves this by pulling a gun on Tarrant. Still, what harm can a bit of fluid on the hull do?

Eventually they arrive at their destination. Terminal is an artificial galaxy, long thought destroyed, created 411 years ago in an orbit near Mars. It has now been moved right across the galaxy for reasons which remain unexplained. Whatever its origins, however, it just so happens to look like- yes, you guessed it- the South-East of England.

Avon teleports down, leaving the others with strict instructions not to follow. If he misses just one of his hourly call-backs, they are to leave on a pre-programmed course, and a pre-recorded message explaining his actions will be played on arrival. That’s it. Avon gives no further explanation before teleporting down. Naturally, Tarrant and Cally make plans to follow.

Avon is being watched by two sinister-looking mulleted Aryan types, as the treasure hunt continues. Eventually, Avon finds an entrance to some kind of underground base. Meanwhile, aboard the Liberator, the liquid is gradually penetrating the ship’s hull.     

The two mulleted strangers attempt to follow Avon, but are suddenly attacked and killed by Gerald from Not the Nine O’ Clock News. What else?

Exploring this strange underground location, Avon discovers evidence that none other than Blake himself is being held somewhere close by, and is receiving treatment for some very serious injuries. At this point, though, Avon is caught, and knocked out.

On board the Liberator, things are getting serious as the strange alien enzymes threaten to overwhelm the ship. Interesting, though, that it’s Vila who takes charge of the situation, ordering Zen to cease repairs in the hope that focusing on diagnosing the problem might save them all.

Cally and Tarrant reach the door, where they are attacked. Fortunately, Gerald and his flange of silly gorilla costumes are mysteriously much less formidable that they were against those two redshirts earlier, and are quickly disposed of.

Avon wakes up to find himself lying on a table, but somehow at liberty to wander about. Soon he finds a bearded Blake, lying on a table. It’s a shock to see Blake again; the banter between the two of them is the same as ever. Blake has discovered an exciting but vague supply of unobtainium nearby, but is unable to leave his life support and survive. Avon is rendered unconscious again suspiciously soon after this.

The following scene is fascinating; something is done to Avon, and he’s put back exactly where he was before. A lot of effort is expended to ensure he has no idea he’s been moved. This is a pleasingly metatextual scene; the comment that “We must keep the continuity right” must be a constant refrain in any television drama.     

It is, of course, an elaborate trap set by Servalan; what else could it have been? Avon is wonderfully unsurprised, and the conversation between them has just the right amount of flirting to keep this very interesting relationship simmering nicely.

Servalan is oddly lenient in her demands; a season ago she would have been much more ruthless. In return for the Liberator, she’s prepared to grant Avon his liberty, along with that of his comrades; Blake; and a ship. What we know, and Servalan doesn’t, is that the Liberator is dying. Zen’s last words are quite moving, and it’s interesting that it should be Vila who is most affected.

Servalan hasn’t quite kept her side of the bargain; “Blake” was an illusion, carefully engineered by the continuity artist and their mates, and the ship they are to have will require a bit of work. Servalan claims that Blake died a year ago and she saw him cremated. Of course, we only have her word for this.

Annoyingly, Servalan spouts some absolute crap about the flanges of Geralds being what man is said to evolve into. What utter arsecack!!! That isn’t how natural selection works. Sorry, bit of a bugbear of mine.

It’s a pyrrhic victory for Servalan, of course. She has the Liberator, but as soon as she orders it moved (“Maximum power!”), it starts to blow up. Servalan is last seen running into the teleporter…

Blake's 7: Star One

“Avon, for what it’s worth, I have always trusted you, from the very beginning.”

The final episode is written by Chris Boucher, which is fitting; a symbolic changing of the guard at script level which mirrors the changing of the guard aboard the Liberator in this bold, amazing and pivotal episode. Whoever said that season finales weren’t supposed to have been invented in 1979?

The first tension-filled scene, with a ship being rammed by a mysterious small vessel, looks amazing. It’s uncannily similar visually to the opening scene from Star Wars, and that’s deliberate: this is 1979. And it’s the perfect indication of the epic nature of what we’re about to see unfold over the next fifty minutes.

We get the backstory from Servalan thereafter. (And this is where I first notice the prominent Federation symbol; interesting how closely it resembles the symbol for the Federation in Star Trek, but from an entirely different perspective on what such a Federation would be like!) The attack is just one of many catastrophic events happening throughout the Federation’s outer worlds, most of which seem to involve weather control malfunctions. Ah, weather control! Such a very old-fashioned sci-fi trope, isn’t it? It belongs to a past era which believed in progress more than we do, an era of Concorde and Butskellism where the state spending money was seen as a Good Thing, chaos theory (which nixes weather control) had yet to enter popular culture and people believed that it would one day be possible for mankind to explore space. Happy days, or at least I’m told. Alas, I was born in 1977.

Er, anyway, Servalan’s underling tells her that all this can only mean problems at Star One, something which Servalan refuses to believe. She has to; not only does she not know where it is, no one knows where it is. Even the scientists living there are marooned forever, and both selected and conditioned to be the types of people who would never attempt to communicate with outside.

Er, is this wise? If Star One is so important, and disorder in the universe is always increasing (the good old Second Law of Thermodynamics, says that clever Professor Brian Cox), then surely there will be problems in store when the scientists are all dead and Star One inevitably starts to go wrong?

Blake and co know where it is, though. The co-ordinates take them to a spot a little outside the galaxy, into the dark, intergalactic board. They’re off the edge of the map. Here be monsters, inevitably.

And this where we get an incredible, pivotal scene. We’ve seen lots of arguments between Blake and Avon, but this time it’s final. Things are said which cannot be unsaid. “Show me something who believes in anything, and I’ll show you a fool”, says Avon. He doesn’t mean it, of course. By now we know that he doesn’t like tyranny any more than Blake does. It’s just that he’s horrified by Blake’s recklessness and is deliberately saying the most hurtful things he can. Beneath the exterior, Avon is a very moral man who is loyal to his friends and cares a lot. That’s why he loathes Blake’s casual attitude to other peoples’ lives.

He basically Admits, too, that all that stuff at the end of last episode about using Star One to rule the galaxy is just him lashing out at Blake and again trying to be hurtful. This would be quite as morally objectionable to Avon as it would be to Blake. No; Avon has an ultimatum for Blake: they destroy Star One, and then they’re finished. It’s over. Blake gets dropped off on Earth and the Liberator is Avon’s. He even calls Blake a fanatic to his face.

But Blake lacks the confidence to really argue back; this is the episode where he comes the closest to what he wants, and yet he’s racked with doubt, as are others; even the normally loyal Cally points out that with out Star One, many people would die. Is all this really worth it? There are some powerful ethical issues at work. Yet, the end of the scene, whatever the supposed caveats, Avon gets exactly what he wants. He, not Blake, is the Alpha Male now.

Meanwhile, Servalan speaks of chaos spreading across the Federation leadership. She has decreed the President and the Council to be incapable of dealing with the crisis. She has launched a coup and had them arrested, no doubt to be “disappeared”. The scene ends with her senior underling addressing her as “Madame President”.

Avon and his crew discover Star One to be a tiny, barely habitable world orbiting an isolated white dwarf. Avon notes that this is the nearest point to the Andromeda Galaxy. Implying that, with human technology, it would take thousands of years to travel there, he has nevertheless spotted that there are thousands of satellite generators lying beyond it; a “minefield” place there by the Federation! Does this imply a known threat from the direction of Andromeda, a threat which would most likely arrive through this exact point? Orac confirms that these minefields extend around all those parts of the Galaxy’s edge which are occupied by humans, and this implies that the Federation (and humanity) does not occupy all of the Milky Way or even necessarily very much of it.

Oh, and I’m not sure about the concepts of minefields, what with space being three-dimensional and all, but never mind. I think a bit of handwavium is justified, because this is great.

Avon, Blake and Cally teleport down, and are separated. Blake and Cally do the “take me to your leader” thing while Avon walks around being cynical. But another ship is landing, one identical to the small vessel form the opening scene. Blake, meanwhile is expected, but it soon becomes apparent that he’s been mistaken for Travis.

Events start hurtling forward apace; Blake sets his bombs, but other things are afoot. All of the scientists but one are impostors, alien beings from Andromeda sent as an advance party to destroy the minefields. Gazillions of alien ships are heading towards Star One, from Andromeda, to launch an invasion. Oh, and Travis is here, in league with the aliens in a betrayal of his own species- and it’s implied that the aliens intend on committing genocide, or something pretty damn close.

Blake is a lost figure by this point, forced to abandon all hope of fighting against the Federation because of the need for humanity to unite against this greater enemy. Even his being shot and seriously injured by Travis, which should be dramatic in itself, is almost merely a symbol of his more general impotence from this point on.

Servalan has a big decision to make, too; given the new threat, she contacts Servalan and asks for Federation military back-up. Suddenly, all previous quarrels have become a luxury which no-one can afford.

One quarrel is ended for good, though. It’s fitting, given the constant tension between Blake and Avon about whether to kill Travis, that Avon should shoot him dead so casually and irrevocably. It’s yet another moment which signifies which of the two of them is now on top.

Servalan sends a fleet, but it will take an hour to arrive; the Liberator, facing hopeless odds, is the only thing which can possibly fight them. Blake briefly tries to return, but he’s yesterday’s man; Avon insists that he buggers off back to Star One. Accepting his new lack of status, he agrees and duly sods off. It’s Avon, showing his true heroic colours, who leads the crew of the Liberator in what must surely be a hopeless last stand against the invading hordes…

What an episode!