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 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. 

The Stone Tape

“A ghost is a mass of data waiting for a correct interpretation.”

I usually do films on Saturdays, but I suppose a one-off television play will just about do. It’s appropriate for the time of year, too; this was originally commissioned in 1972 as a Christmas ghost story. It’s the first drama by Nigel Kneale that I’ve reviewed on this blog, but it certainly won’t be the last. It’s also the first thing I’ve watched without subtitles for this blog (I’m a little hard of hearing) since those episodes of Doctor Who which had yet to get a DVD release. I don’t need them, exactly, but I’ve become used to being spoiled and not having to miss any lines of dialogue, so it’s become very annoying to have to suffer that here, at times. For a DVD release to neglect the subtitles is unforgiveable.

There’s something about the culture shock inherent in watching older dramas that makes them particularly interesting to write about. Here we have a bunch of characters who smoke all the time, drink whisky while they’re working, and wear… interesting clothes. The entire concept of a recording medium to replace magnetic tape is, of course, ancient. Peter’s attitude towards Jill is frequently quite eye-poppingly sexist. The vicar has an old-fashioned and incomprehensible Rowley Birkin-style way of speaking. We even get a full-on racist impression of a Japanese person which made my jaw hit the floor. The past is indeed a foreign country.

Aside from the fact that it’s dated, though, it hasn’t dated. The performances are great, with an extraordinarily intense Jane Asher putting in a superlative performance, and Michael Bryant convincingly playing a gradual descent into obsession. Peter is one of those men who seem to belong in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s; forthright, intelligent without being posh, meritocratic, a little bit bohemian, and dressed very much of the era- a bit of a cross between Alfie and Roger from The Great Escape. The direction is great, too; this doesn’t look at all like the static, multi-camera ‘70s stuff you’d expect.

But the main star here is Kneale’s script, which lets the characters breathe and gives us moments of humour while gradually building up the tension towards the incredible climax. The central concept is great; ghosts are in fact recordings, in stone, of emotionally intense moments. But there’s a twist, of course, and the revelation that there is in fact something ancient and malevolent behind this phenomenon is brilliantly shown just by the use of red lights. The final twist- that Jill takes the place of the erased ghost- is amazing.

As I’ve mentioned before, I haven’t any belief in the supernatural whatsoever, and some amount of such a belief is pretty much a precondition for being scared by this sort of thing. So it’s no criticism to say that I wasn’t scared, exactly. But I was riveted by the tension and the inexorable sense that things were heading towards an inevitable and horrible conclusion. Kneale may be a little dry as a writer (I found it very hard indeed to come up with an opening quote), but he’s an absolute master of storytelling.

Doctor Who: The Ribos Operation

Part One

“What will happen to me if I refuse?”

“Nothing will happen to you. Nothing at all. Ever.”

The Doctor’s got a new K9! Hooray! And then the story starts with a bang as the TARDIS doors open in flight in a scene which is made brilliant by inspired use of lighting. The Doctor’s been summoned by… well, God, and he’s been charged with a quest to find the Holy Gra- er, Key to Time. I love the way that, instead of depicting something cosmic and expensive, they’ve just depicted the White Guardian as some colonial type bloke in a hat sitting in a deckchair, which works much better.

Instantly it’s clear that, after last season’s unevenness, much thought has been given to things behind the scenes. It’s not just the (fan cliché alert) “umbrella theme”; the new era has now firmly acquired a confident tone and style of its own- no more scares and bangs, but a cheaper, less violent (well, you can’t have everything…), wittier and more postmodern take on things. And the script which heralds the new era in its fully-fledged form for the first time is… Robert Holmes, a man heavily associated with the previous regime. It’s a funny old world.

Anyway, the Doctor has a new assistant, an imperious Time Lady called Romadvoratrelundar, and she’s fab, as is Mary Tamm. Her guilelessly arrogant ways are perfect for winding the Doctor up, and we can tell straightaway that she’s going to be fun. Oh, and rather sexy too.

Apart from introducing Romana, this scene cements something new about the series’ style- wonderfully witty dialogue which is allowed freer rein than before, being let loose more often on that fourth wall, and something different about Tom’s performance. We haven’t really seen his sombre side at all since Horror of Fang Rock, and his more whimsical nature has been staging a gradual takeover for some time, but following the events of The Invasion of Time there seems to be a final shift. The Doctor is now more consistently witty, less prone to introspection, but still with a strong moral centre. But mostly he’s much more fun. I like this new Tom. And the great thing is, what with the events of the last story you could almost at a push call it character development.

Amusingly, we’re told that the Doctor only scraped 51% at the academy on his second attempt. And Gallifrey has a new president, who must be someone we saw in The Invasion of Time as we hear the Doctor say “I should have thrown him to the Sontarans when I had the chance!” Who is it then? It’s not Borusa, for constitutional; reasons. Bet it’s Kelner!

Anyway, Ribos. It’s a well-realised, wintry planet with a mediaeval level of technology which also has the fortunate side effect of suggesting a cultural hinterland in the way that futuristic metal corridors just don’t. There’s a lot of casually excellent design work here. The necessary exposition is handled admirably by means of the highly entertaining, ahem, “Holmesian double act” of Garron (the superb Iain Cuthbertson) and Unstoffe and their intended scam on nasty old offworld nobleman the Graff Vynda K. This planet has two seasons, Suntime and the present season Icetime, both of which last 32 years. Brilliantly, it’s actually part of the interstellar Greater Cyrrhenian Empire, but given that it’s only a “level two” civilisation, the offworlders who actually rule the planet have to claim they’re from “the north” and not display any advanced technology for fear of breaking conservation laws!

I’m loving this already. Garron is a great Holmesian character, a futuristic Horatio Bottomley with great lines, and the set-up is fab. I shall not speak of the Shrivenzale.

Part Two

“You hang a bit of that around your neck and you won’t never suffer from the scringes, no matter how cold it be.”

I love the way our conmen speak in cod-Mummerset accents when they’re pretending to be locals, and the Doctor actually pointed this out at the end of last episode! I love Unstoffe’s speech, but Garron’s the real star of the two of them. It’s fantastic how Holmes, incredibly, gets him to persuade the captain of the guard to deposit a load of money with the crown jewels, and makes it seem plausible. And indeed the fact that, as the title suggests, this is the first time we get a Doctor Who story that is essentially a heist movie. After years of Hinchcliffe era horror movies, Doctor Who is now plundering different sources!

The relationship between the Doctor and Romana continues to be brilliant, too: “An academy graduate doesn’t need things explaining, surely?”

Part Three

“When you’ve faced death as often as I have, this is much more fun.”

I think the scene where the Graff slaps the Doctor, and the Doctor slaps him back, is definitely in the running for my favourite Tom moment ever. The Doctor and Romana are captured and imprisoned, but it’s an interesting example of what a great writer Holmes is that while in the hands of a little writer this perennial Who cliché could be tiresome, here it’s just a pretext for a fun little chat between the Doctor and Garron, a bit of character stuff for Romana and some exposition. And once all this is achieved K9 just comes and rescues everyone, leaving the situation no time at all to become tiresome. Masterful.

The scene with Binro the heretic is of course wonderful, and almost distracts from the fact that Unstoffe seems to have acquired an RP accent what with all the stress of being hunted by the Graff. Interestingly, the Seeker seems to have genuine powers, so precognition works, which is a bit dodgy.

Part Four

“Well, I admit I had a great struggle with me conscience. Fortunately I won.”

There are so many great things about this story. I love the way the Seeker’s frenzied and tuneless shriek is supposed to be hugely annoying!

We get a well-crafted and entertaining conclusion. Binro dies tragically, the Graff disintegrates realistically in a surprisingly well done piece of characterisation, and our heroes have the first segment of the Key to Time. Only five to go.

Flawless. 5/5 and a good one too, only just missing out on a top ten spot. Great script, great new tone, great new companion, Iain Cuthbertson and, most relievingly, no obvious problems with the production. Well, Shrivenzale aside.. It feels as though the problems of last season are behind us already. Can things stay at this level?