The Reptile (1966)

 "They don't like strangers in these parts!"

This may not exactly be Hammer's finest hour. It may, indeed, be a deeply formulaic Hammer Horror with a pleasingly unironic approsch to tropes. After all, we have both a pub that empties at the mention of the evil residence in question and a conclusion based around a country house being set on fire. But it's quirky, it's fun, and frankly I could never dislike a film in which Private Fraser from Dad's Army is bitten to death by Servalan from Blake's 7.

Yes, the film does tend to get slow towards the end as it runs out of plot but needs to pad out time until the exposition and conclusion, with various characters dramatically exploring the house to eerie Stockhausen-like incidental music. Yes, the reptile make-up is rubbish. But it's cheesy, it's fun, and it's recognisably Hammer.

It's nice, too, that there aren't any stars here, and that instead we get a stream of character actors. I'm not sure that this film is in any way scary, but there's plenty of intrigue, tension and mystery to hold the interest. Jennifer Daniel and Ray Barrett make an intriguing enough leading couple, while both Noel Wilman and Jacqueline Pearce are suitably sinister. John Laurie, of course, steals every scene he's in.

This is nothing special, certainly. It's Hammer by numbers. But there are times when Hammer by numbers is exactly what we want.

Dark Season: Episodes 5 and 6

Episode Five

"A ventilation shaft. Marvellous. I’m a cliche.”

The middle episode, and we discover that Pendragon is digging not for Celtic archaeology but for an old MOD building beneath the school, and the Behemoth is an AI war machine that she once created. In spite of her cod-mysticism she’s actually a scientist, but so mad and melodramatic that only Jacqueline Pearce could possibly have played her: a genius scientist sacked for being a Nazi and prone to lots and lots of speechifying.

Elsewhere, Miss Maitland fails as an English teacher as she “corrects” Reet’s grammar to end a sentence with “and I”, failing to understand the difference between the nominative and the accusative.  Don’t you just hate that? But at least she begins to overcome her scepticism and get stuck in. Thomas, in spite of some more terrible acting from Ben Chandler, has some amusing scenes with Pendragon as it turns out his Aryan looks come mostly from hair dye.

It’s a rather cool ending as the Behemoth awakes and it’s revealed that the “chosen one” is in fact needed to sit in the chair and be subsumed into the machine- a sacrifice which now suddenly falls to a bizarrely ecstatic Pendragon. This is brilliantly mad chikdren’s telly.

Oh, look. There’s Mr Eldritch.


Episode Six

“There will be now new age. Only a dark age.”

A rather excellent finale as Marcie exploits the differences between the Nazis and the chaos-loving Eldritch, Lawful Evil vs Chaotic Evil. There’s a debate between Marcie and Eldritch to persuade the fully sentient Behemoth, and arguably a debate about whether it’s Miss Maitland with her bulldozer or Marcie with her words who saves the day.

All this stuff about the end of a century being an important time (it’s only 1991, kids) feels quaint from the vantage point of today, but it works. And Grant Parsons’ Eldritch is a splendidly melodramatic villain. And best of all is the scene where the increasingly cool Miss Maitland gives the Nazis a right good bollocking.

It’s a nice upbeat ending, Marcie is blatantly the Doctor as always, and this is a brilliant bit of telly. But I suppose it had to end; there are only so many sci-fi thrrats that could threaten a school. But that young RTD, the Why Don’t You bloke who wrote this- he’s going places, I tell you.

Dark Season: Episodes 3 and 4

Episode Three

"If I was here to give answers, I'd open an answer shop!"

A satisfying conclusion to the first three part story here, with a nice little twist as it’s revealed by the old man that “Professor Becjinski is my wife!” using Mr Eldritch’s casually misogynistic assumption that the man must be the professor as a trick. Of course, this means that Marcie and her mates don’t actually save the day, but it’s a nice way to end. I also like the way Mr Becjinsky tries to persuade Dr Osley to turn on Eldritch, giving Osley his big speech about the world deserving what it’s going to get.

Also interesting is Eldritch’s motive; although he intends to ensure all computers are networked and under his control, he doesn’t want control; no, he wants to create chaos.

Marcie gets some heroic stuff to do, and there’s a countdown (why do baddies never just press a button that does things instantly?). And, of course, Eldritch vanishes. It’s a big, satisfying ending, although Marcie, Reet and Thomas are perhaps a little sidelined. In fact, things would have pretty much unfolded much the same without them.


Episode Four

“Liberty Hall!”

Don’t imagine I didn’t spit the blatant reference to The Three Doctors up there. Anyway, Marcie, Reet and Thomas are back, with hesitant help from Miss Maitland, as Jacqueline Pearce turns up and steals every scene she’s in with aplomb. She was a force of nature and she will be missed.

Miss Pendragon is an eccentric baddie with a mysterious agenda and, quite rightly, the manners of Servalan, who is conducting a sham archaeological dig in a quest to find the “Behemoth” of Celtic legend. As Thomas notes, her commitment to diversity is less than ideal as all of her underlines have a suspiciously Aryan look. Indeed, she seems to have hired the handsome but dim Luke just to stand around being Aryan and unblemished, and suddenly abandons him when he gets slightly hurt. Nazi much?

Marnie spends the episode being splendidly moody mixed with bursts of Doctorish activity. We’ve established the format in the first three parter; now we can just get on with the adventure, and it appears the Behemoth may now be emerging...

The Plague of the Zombies (1966)

"I should have drowned you at birth!"

"Thank you, father!"

Interesting that this enjoyable Hammer romp is pre-George A. Romero, if only just. But it's fascinating to see that, as late as 1966, zombies were still very much associated in popular culture with their Haitian origins. Thus we have voodoo dolls, and a rather incongruous-looking Haitian butler in a Cornwall country home. It's striking to see the negative portrayal of voodoo here, though: it's referred to, in Christian terms, as "witchcraft".

It's also amusing to reflect on how class-ridden the society in this film is. The baddie is the local squire who, naturally, firmly rules the village. Meanwhile our delightfully grumpy hero, Andre Morell's splendid Sir James, is a posh medical professor to whom everyone defers and whom all working class characters call "Sir". He even gets essentially let off when caught grave robbing by the fuzz because of how posh he is.

It's amusing to see a very young Jacqueline Pearce here. Servalan, it seems, was a Victorian/Edwardian zombie before she rose in the ranks of the Federation.

This is peak Hammer by numbers, but peak Hammer by numbers is a great way to spend ninety minutes. I enjoyed this film hugely.

Blake's 7: Warlord

“I see my bad dreams in other people’s eyes.”

Oh my word. Not long now at all, and this episode hints heavily that the end is nigh. Servalan knows where they all live, for one thing.

I’m always going on about new writers, so I won’t start with that here! It’s a most interesting beginning, though: a council of bizarrely dressed people. It’s clear that Avon’s strategy of recruiting allies is coming to a head, and successfully. And his opening speech makes it clear that the Federation’s use of the Pylene-50 drug is accelerating. Indeed, we see some disturbing scenes which are as reminiscent of Brave New World as they are of 1984.

The most interesting (and powerful) of these new allies is Zukan. He and his stowaway daughter Zeeona, it seems, hail from the Planet of Great Hair. These are very interesting scenes, though, and not just for the squabbling. Or, indeed, for the presence of Rick James, the worst actor ever to appear in Doctor Who. We learn that, although our heroes have the antitoxin to the drug, they have no means of mass-producing it on their own: stalemate.

We also learn, as if we didn’t know, that Tarrant is an utter twonk. Yes, it’s nice that he and Zeeona have a thing for each other and yes, Zukan is being a bit of a controlling tyrant figure to his daughter. But Tarrant is being utterly stupid in jeopardising such an important conference, in which the lives of billions are at stake, by gratuitously pissing off the most powerful delegate. Admittedly, the fact that said delegate turns out to be in the pay of Servalan doesn’t help that argument. But still…

Soolin bonds with Zeeona (who is rather attractive!), and actually lets slip a bit of hinterland; her dad got killed when she was eight and she later get her revenge. A bit slim for a backstory, yes, but at least it’s something. In the nick of time, too, considering how close to the end we are…

Of course, Zukan finds out about his daughter, but the upshot is that she ends up back on Xenon, her father ostensibly flies home, and Avon and a rather prattish Soolin head after him to check out all this industrial equipment he’s apparently got. Unfortunately, he’s done a deal with Servalan, interestingly foreshadowed a little earlier in an eloquent little speech about darkness and light. There’s a fascinating depth to Zukan, the warlord of the title, in both writing and performance.

The episode hinges on two parallel betrayals and two bombs. The first, left to Zukan by Servalan and his “reward”, leaves him helpless in his ship (a nice bit of early CGI here!), awaiting death unless he is rescued. And the bomb at our heroes’ base (paralleling the start of the season, and something for which there can be no reset button!), leaves Tarrant, Dayna, Vila and Zeeona facing eventual death by either virus or decapitation. This leads out to a very interesting falling-out between Tarrant and Vila, digging up all the darker elements of their somewhat unhappy relationship.

It’s left to Avon and Soolin to discover Zukan’s betrayal and get captured, but fortunately Soolin redeems her earlier foolishness by rescuing Avon in a rather clever way. Soon we end up with a complex three-way communication of everyone’s problems, which are neatly solved by Avon cleverly working out what to do and getting Tarrant to do as he says. That’s one to Avon, methinks.

That done, Zukan is fittingly blown up along with his ship. Everyone seems to be fine otherwise, though, as they are all teleported up to Scorpio. Zeeona volunteers to go down and check the virus has gone, and it’s honourable of her to take the risk after what her father has done. Still, it seems she’ll be ok, although that lingering kiss she gives to Tarrant gives us a hint that she may not be. The ending is powerful, leaving us in no doubt that she has committed suicide out of shame.

Blake's 7: Orbit

“Natural leaders are rarely encumbered with intelligence.”

At last a writer I know, and it’s the great Robert Homes again, at last! This episode is great. These two statements may well be connected…!

Yet again we get a notoriously clever scientist whom Avon wants to contact in case his cleverness might be useful- the standard Season Four plot, basically. But, this being Robert Holmes, we get a much more entertaining scientist. In fact, Egrogian must be the campest scientist ever, in all senses of the word. John Savident chews the scenery magnificently, and is the best thing in this.

His interaction with Pinder is great, too; in fact, it’s pretty much a textbook example of what we Doctor Who fans call a “Holmesian double act”; the “smart” one, with a rich fruity vocabulary and great quotable dialogue, and the put-upon underling. But it’s very, very dark here. For a start, there are hints of past sexual abuse. And the revelation that Pinder is only twenty-eight, but was aged fifty years in a freak accident, which was entirely Egrogian’s fault, is a wonderfully dark, twisted, Holmesian touch. Even the wart and hairstyle work perfectly for this gloriously grotesque villain.

It’s a dramatic moment when Avon and Vila are offered the tachyon nuke, capable of blowing up stars. Obviously, no one can have this much power. We know from the start that this uber-weapon cannot possibly be allowed to survive the episode. Especially as Egrogian proceeds to go on a bit of a rant about revenge and destroying stuff.

Avon is more or less his old self here; clever, level-headed and showing no sign of his self-destructive streak which has been showing itself occasionally of late. He sensibly agrees Egrogian’s proposed swap of the uber-weapon for Orac but, as we’ll see, has a rather cunning little contingency plan, double-crossing the double-crossing. I would have said how clever it was of him to infer the involvement of Servalan, but I won’t; Servalan is in every bloody episode these days. She’s very, very Thatcher here, so far more evil than usual.

Probably the creepiest moment is where our ultra-camp mad scientist expresses a bit of a thing for Vila (“One could become very fond of that young man…”), who would no doubt be abused in the same way as Pinder.

That’s not the only indignity Vila is made to suffer, of course. Both Holmes’ script and Darrow’s performance make it clear that, faced with death as the alternative, Avon is quite willing to throw Vila off the ship so he can achieve escape velocity. I’m still unsure whether this is a regression on the character’s part (the Avon we see in this episode is not quite the reckless Avon of Season Four), but the circumstances give him little choice, perhaps.

The twist ending is great, though; a little dwarf star, foreshadowed earlier, being the thing that’s pulling the shuttle down. I suspect that it’s not entirely realistic for Avon to push it around, but never mind! This episode is such enormous fun I can forgive anything. Top stuff.

Blake's 7: Gold

“I’ve got a criminal record.”

“Hasn’t everybody.”

I seem to start every single Blake’s 7 review these days by saying that I don’t know who the writer is and, er, I’m going to do it again now. So, Colin Davis: who he? Well, I dunno.  Even my good friend Wikipedia can’t help me with this one.

This is a fairly middling episode, really; a simple bank heist with a fairly ho-hum twist at the end. It starts well, though; I always like to see episodes of Blake’s 7 start as Star Wars films do, with cool-looking ships floating through space.

We’re soon introduced to Keiller, an old friend of Avon, played by a suitably shifty Roy Kinnear. Aside from outlining as much of the details of the heist as the unravelling of the plot requires us to know at this point, we’re clearly shown that Keiller is not to be trusted. He has an interesting line to Avon, too: “On the grapevine, my friend, you’re getting to be big news.” Avon’s reaction suggests this is unwelcome news. He isn’t Blake; he recognises that notoriety will not do any good for his chances of survival.

With the necessary exposition over with, the scene switches to the initial phase of the heist with admirable speed. Our heroes have to do something there to ensure they can convert the “black gold” into proper gold again once the job is done. As this is a drama and dramas need conflict, things don’t go well, and we spend quite a few minutes wondering whether Avon and Soolin are dead. Soolin, incidentally, is starting to acquire some character traits. Only some, mind you, but we’re beginning to establish that she’s efficient, no-nonsense, slow to trust people, self-reliant and fearless. This might all add up to a fairly generic character type, and she still has no hinterland whatsoever, but you have to start somewhere.

We now begin to get some answers from Keiller; he’s being employed by persons unknown, but we all immediately guessed it would be Servalan, right? I like the concept of the entire space cruise being a sham to cover up the delivery of gold to the Federation on Earth, mind. Even better is Avon’s explanation of how it is possible to dupe the passengers (“I imagine they have chemical help.”

I’m very conscious with Blake’s 7 that the teleport can create quite a problem for the sense of threat: how can the characters be in danger if they can be immediately teleported out. Davis finds a neat and very cheeky solution; teleporting the gold would immediately destroy its value. Hah!

The heist itself is quite clever and well-executed, but once again Avon and co find themselves in some very murky moral areas. Not only do they shoot an awful lot of security guards throughout the episode, but Keiller murders an unarmed doctor in cold blood. They’re all accessories to that, I’m afraid. It hardly makes our “heroes” look heroic. But then, I think that’s the point. They are criminals. Yes, they’re politically opposed to the totalitarian rule of the Federation, but they’re not nice people and they never have been.

It’s eventually revealed that Servalan has planned it all- of course- and Keiller gets his comeuppance. But, in a final twist, recent financial developments mean that their money is worthless, while Servalan is in possession of loads of gold (“We risked our lives to make Servalan rich”). Everyone seems to be pretty scathing of Avon; will there be consequences? And once again there are signs that he’s not quite right in the head any more, laughing hysterically at his own misfortune…

Blake's 7: Sand

“Perhaps I like watching old films?”

Oh my. This is the best episode ever. Yes, the central conceit is a bit of an off-the-shelf sci-fi concept, but who cares? Poetic dialogue; fascinating character stuff; fourth wall-shattering critiques of how rubbish this series has mostly been, smuggled into the dialogue- this episode has it all. I rather admired the last episode by Tanith Lee while feeling it went somewhat over my head. But this is an episode to love without reserve. Prepare for much gushing.

The opening moments show us an atmospheric panorama of the planet Virn, over which we hear some rather poetic dialogue which echoes Shelley or Coleridge. This is a statement of intent; we’re getting more than an ordinary Blake’s 7 script here. And the sudden reveal that all this happened five years ago, and Keller’s last message is being watched by Servalan also introduces us to all the lovely metatextual fun that we’re going to be having.

The parallel opening scenes, sharing exposition duties between Servalan, Reeve and underling on the one hand and Avon and co on the other, is nicely done. And the sudden crashing of Servalan’s shuttle is both unexpected and a powerful demonstration of the threat posed by this eerie, silent planet. Virn, almost uniquely in this series, looks nothing like the South-East of England. It may not look quite real, perhaps- it’s more like a stage set than anything one might see at the cinema- but realism doesn’t matter. The look of the planet just works, and drenches the episode in atmosphere.

The initial dynamics between Servalan and Reeve is fascinating; marooned and helpless, the dynamics of the group are in flux, and Servalan’s position as top dog is under threat. This is emphasised even more once their underling has been attacked and killed, apparently by the sand.

There’s a great scene with Reeve revealing that he knows that “Sleer” is in fact Servalan, and this leads to a situation with Servalan, Reeve and Tarrant all wandering independently around pillars with a gun as though they’re in a shoot-‘em-up! Of course, Reeve ends up dead- such is the fate of all who discover who Servalan really is- and the fascinating scenes between Tarrant and Servalan begin. The chemistry between the two is apparent from the start. Jacqueline Pearce is fantastic here.

Aboard the Scorpio, Avon has pretty much worked out that the planet is a single living organism, and that the thunder is caused by Scorpio “irritating” the atmosphere. All things electronic are going a bit funny, too; it’s rather arresting to hear Orac saying “I love you”!

After a bit of flirting, Servalan and Tarrant arrive at Keller’s crashed ship, and begin to work out what’s going in while continuing to flirt and, eventually, connect with each other.

On the Scorpio, though, there’s some extraordinary character stuff going on. Soolin’s throwaway reference to Lee’s previous script isn’t very significant at face value, as she dismisses the theory at once, but hints that the rules are not as they usually are. And Vila, the drunken court jester, is allowed to say some very true things. “Who cared about Cally?” he moans, implicitly criticising the scripts in the earlier part of the season for their unforgivable failure to mourn her passing in any way.

Both Tarrant and Avon work out the truth; the planet is alive, and the sand carnivorous. It seeks to kill the humans it does not need, and domesticate the rest. This, of course, means as many fertile females as it can get, plus a solitary “bull” to service them! I’m not sure this is good genetics, but as a dramatic plot device it certainly works. If nothing, it gives us Josette Simon’s wonderful delivery of the line “Well, how could we refuse, Avon? You are the dominant male, aren’t you?”

It’s interesting that it should be the less than cerebral Tarrant, not the usually self-assured Servalan, that should work this out. Servalan is unusually vulnerable here; it seems that Don Keller was her lover when she was eighteen, but he left her. Since then she has devoted herself to power, and “Power is like a drug. It’s beautiful!” It says a lot that she should tell all this to Tarrant. Oh, and then there’s that kiss. Although we’re left in no doubt that she’s dangerous, and will have no compunction about killing Tarrant when the time comes.

It’s obvious what Tarrant has been up to once he’s back aboard the Scorpio. Dayna is disgusted- nice touch- and Avon, I believe, is jealous!

Blake's 7: Games

“Your survival is becoming more miraculous by the moment…”

Well, here’s another episode, and here’s another writer who’s unknown to me. Bill Lyons gives us a good, witty script though.

We get some exposition to start with; Avon and his crew are planning to rob an Unobtainium mine run by the Federation; simple enough. Except that this particular Unobtainium is magic, and produces huge amounts of energy at very little cost. It’s notable that, although this story ends with a load of it destroyed, the Federation are still mining another eight planets of the stuff. The subtext continues to be that the Federation are increasingly becoming quite worryingly powerful.

Isn’t Stratford Johns great? Belkov (naturally, the chess player has a Russian-sounding name) is such a fun character- a bit like Vila, but cooler and with more style. I love the booby traps / obstacle course protecting his ship, but the coolness of the character basically comes from Johns’ performance. I love his calm, scheming acceptance of the situation when he’s arrested by Servalan; his refusal to accept the situation and his insistence on bargaining with “Sleer” even seems to gain her grudging admiration. Also, the sheer bare-faced cheek he shows in playing our heroes and Servalan against each other is a joy to behold.

It’s interesting, incidentally, that chess has survived unaltered so far into the future as, although chess computers are apparently some way behind Deep Thought. It’s amusing that this world of interstellar travel and all sorts of marvels should be so far behind our own in this respect, but never mind! At least Gambit seems to have feelings, something beyond our ken, as we see at the end.

This is an episode which seems to return us to traditional Blake’s 7 values in many ways: Avon seems to be motivated essentially by greed, which seems a little inconsistent with his behaviour of late; the landing party is out of teleport range for much of the episode; and Avon even gets to practice his thieving skills, not once but three times. None of these things really seem to belong in this season, but it’s nice to see them all the same.

This is a nice, light-hearted episode, and rather leads me to expect much grimness in the near future. There is one horrific moment, though; we last see Gerren (always doomed to be a redshirt) quivering with fear as Servalan puts her gun in his mouth. It’s hard not to see this as symbolising another kind of violation, although the literal meaning is dark enough. The actor does a great job of portraying real, paralysing terror.

Back to lighter matters, though… isn’t the ‘80s amusement arcade near the end of the episode a fantastic piece of nostalgia? Soolin even acquires a rare couple of personality traits; she’s a crack shot and confident at taking risks to prove it. And Tarrant, of course, is a flight sim fan.

The twists at the end- no unobtainium on the ship, and the ultimate goal being death by black hole- is interesting, I suppose, but it loses something for not paying off anything established earlier. It fails to match the last episode in that respect. And the characterisations of the regulars don’t quite seem to fit in with their more recent development, however vague this development admittedly is. This is very much a standalone episode, then; light, fluffy and entertaining without really advancing the arcs or the characters. But there’s nothing wrong with that every now and then; this is our third good episode of the season. It may not end up such a bad season after all...

Blake's 7: Assassin

“All right then; he’s not infallible. It’s just that up to now he’s never failed.”

At last, this rather piss-poor season has produced a second decent episode. I’ve no idea who this Rod Beacham chap is, but he’s really come up trumps with this rather clever little script. All the characters are well-served, the story is gripping, there’s a nice little twist and the pacing is well fast.

The first scene, for all that it’s basically exposition (the team learn about Servalan hiring an assassin to get them and decide to pre-empt her, blah blah blah) is both funny and interesting character-wise, as for once we get to see Avon being scared, however much he may try to hide it. In fact, he spends most of this episode being rather more sensible than he has been of late.

Interesting name for the assassin- Cancer- although I’ve concluded that it’s probably not worth going subtext-hunting here. This episode is all about the action, anyway, as we fast-forward to Avon and Vila having teleported down to the surface of Gomo, one of those ubiquitous quarry worlds, without bothering with any pointless scene beforehand establishing that they’re going to do so. It’s not the last time that this will happen during this episode, and it’s the most refreshing example of the refreshing economy of storytelling that’s on display here.

Avon succeeds in his rather barmy plan of being captured as a slave (What’s with this element of masochistic craziness in Avon’s plans? He did something similar in Rumours of Death. Actually, I take back what I said about him acting sensibly here.), although his losing the bracelet is going to be a bit of a bother.

I fear that for once I’m going to break my golden rule and discuss another programme here, as it’s blindingly obvious that this episode is the reason that Richard Hurndall (Nebrox) gets cast as the First Doctor two years later in The Five Doctors. You can see why. The resemblance is uncanny, far more so, in fact, than it would be when he actually came to play the role.

This isn’t the only delightful piece of casting, either. At the slave auction scene (Servalan’s there, naturally) we get a wonderful little cameo from the legendary Betty Marsden of Round the Horne fame. She gets an interesting little speech, incidentally, which implies (well, says out loud, really) that there are such people as “nouveaux riches” and “nobles” at this point in the future. Also hilarious is her excuse for why so few extras are needed to play the punters at the auction!

There’s a wonderfully kinky little moment as Servalan buys Avon as a slave, but it’s time for the plot to move on, so Avon duly gets rescued. We now move to Cancer’s seemingly marooned ship, the main setting for this episode. Cancer is overpowered, seemingly quite easily, much to the apparent relief of the too-girly-to-be-true Piri. You’ll forgive me for revealing the plot twist at this early stage (I guessed at the 29 minutes and 45 seconds mark), but her awfully stereotyped personality actually turns out to be a very clever postmodern trick- I love that.

Incidentally, the bridge of Cancer’s ship is straight out of an ‘80s music video, with the bearded “Cancer” looking just like General Zod. But the real Cancer, once we finally get to see her as she is, looks utterly fab in a way that transcends the decades, with great hair. Oh, and the fight scenes on the bridge are shot really excitingly, with lots of fast cutting. It’s really, really weird to see direction like this in 1981. I’m really impressed with David Sullivan Proudfoot’s work here. His surname is pretty cool too.

The plot really is very, very clever. “Piri” manages to quite easily manipulate everyone, deliberately alienating Soolin (who comes a little closer to having a personality than she has before, if only because she slaps Piri, and seems to work out that she’s a baddie) and getting Avon and Tarrant to fight over her. Her plan actually seems pretty likely to succeed, too; I suspect that Vila, Dayna and the smitten Tarrant, aboard the Scorpio, would prove rather easy to manipulate.

I like the animatronic spider, too. But the ending is satisfying, giving us a nice little verbal exchange between Servalan and Avon before things are resolved. And it seems the episode ends with Servalan thinking they’re all dead?

That was good. Very good. More like this please.

Blake's 7: Animals

“Why do I get all the dirty jobs?”

“Typecasting…?”

Another not-very-good episode, this, meaning the hit rate for Season Four has been fairly poor so far. It’s good to see a Dayna-focused episode, but Josette Simon’s performance is oddly stagey here.

Dayna teleports down to the planet Bucol Two to trace an old teacher of hers, Justin, although it soon becomes clear that their relationship had been rather more intimate than that. The planet’s surface, of course, looks like Hertfordshire as per tradition. Dayna soon encounters some men monster suits; horned, bearded, rice krispie-faced creatures which would probably have looked quite passable in 1981. It’s interesting comparing the unconvincing monsters in Blake’s 7 episodes which are new to me to similar monsters in Doctor Who at the same time; I suspect I tend to give old Doctor Who episodes a bit of a free pass because I’ve seen them so many times!

Dayna finally meets up with the odd but friendly Justin, but finds she’s unable to communicate with Scorpio. This is because Tarrant has had an unfortunate run-in with three Federation pursuit ships- once again, and ominously, noticeably faster and more dangerous than the last time- and has to return to base for repairs. Vila, naturally, has to do all the dirty work. I’m reminded of that sketch about social class from The Frost Report.

Justin, it seems, is performing dodgy genetic experiments on animals, and making a series of unconvincing excuses to Dayna. He clearly has feelings for her, but there’s an awkwardness which doesn’t seem to fit well with the idea that they were once lovers. Dayna gives him a clear description of what she and her friends are actually trying to do, something which has been lacking of late. They’re fighting the Federation, or intending to, and they’re looking for allies, equipment, experts, anything; it all sounds rather desperate. You get a real sense that they’re very much on the back foot, hiding away on their little base postponing the inevitable as the Federation grows ever stronger. The future does not look bright.

Servalan (or, as she’s still calling herself, Sleer) has spotted Scorpio after Tarrant’s unfortunate encounter. She doesn’t recognise it as Avon’s ship, but she certainly sees something odd about a planet hopper which can travel at time distort twelve. Intrigued also by the mysterious experiments said to be carried out there, she heads for Bucol Two.

She soon gets a major info-dump as to the nature of Justin’s experiments from “the man Arras”, played by Kevin Stoney, who’s oddly wasted in such a small and characterless role. He makes the foolish mistake of hinting that he’s aware of “Sleer” really being Servalan (“a non-person”), something which ends up drastically shortening his life expectancy. It seems we have the old Servalan back; from before the Intergalactic War and the presidency. It’s good to see her back where she’s best.

Meanwhile, back on Xenon, Avon has worked out that the Federation are likely to have spotted the speed at which the Scorpio was travelling, and are likely to investigate and capture Dayna. If that happens, the Federation will find their base and they’ll be finished. There’s no time to spare; they have to cut corners and get to Bucol Two. It’s here, I think, a few episodes into the season, that we’re suddenly made aware that Avon and co are in a fairly unenviable and increasingly desperate position. The Federation were weak for a while, but Avon failed to take advantage of this, and now they’re back and seem a bigger threat than ever. This situation places into sharp relief the contrast between Avon and Blake. Blake may have been a fanatic, but at least he got things done. Avon has just let things slide aimlessly. For all his tactical nous, he seems to have no long-term strategy or, indeed, goals. And it’s possible, I suppose, to look at his entire life- including his criminal career- as that of someone who’s intelligent and talented but with no real drive or ambition. And this seems likely to prove very costly. It’s a side of Avon’s character I hadn’t noticed before.          

Servalan captures Dayna easily enough and is soon interrogating her, and it’s surprising to see no reference to Dayna’s sworn vendetta against her. Has this been dropped? The interrogation is extremely totalitarian and sinister, as Dayna is brainwashed, through aversion therapy, to hate Justin and to betray him, Fortunately, and puzzlingly, she isn’t asked about where her friends are hiding.

The ending is sad, yes, but fails somewhat through the lack of conviction in Josette Simon’s performance. The aversion therapy isn’t quite reversed; she’s hypnotised into being in love with Justin. And yes, I know she said under interrogation that she loved him, but there are many kinds and degrees of love; this seems to be pretty much a full-on magic love potion. She is, of course, devastated by Justin’s death in the final; melee, but an increasingly cold and disturbed Avon (is he in denial of both his issues over Anna Grant and the direness of their situation?) is stony-faced and cold.

Blake's 7: Traitor

“Maybe we should start running now…”

Hooray for Robert Holmes! Nuanced characterisation, themes, complex narratives- how I’ve missed these things!

There are a bewildering amount of Federation officers to keep track of, mind. Just to get things straight in my heads; the chap with the eyepatch is Quute; above him is a general whom we may as well call “The General; there’s the mysterious Leitz; and the sadistic Sleer, unseen until the end. Right…

We begin with Quute sending a curiously tame captured rebel back to his mates, who are apparently led by a Star Major Hunda. The man has had a tracer placed on him so the rebel base can be blown up, but fortunately (for Hunda and co), he is blown up before reaching them. In a typical Holmesian touch, Quute and his underling blow him up while playing chess, which is not only very, very cool but pre-empts the episode’s themes.

Meanwhile, on board the Scorpio, Orac announces that yet another world has been re-integrated into the Federation’s interstellar computer network: Helotrix, home to the Helots (nice classical reference there). This clearly shocks Avon and co; the Federation is expanding with shocking speed. This scene seems to be pivotal; too late, our heroes discover how they have horribly underestimated the Federation, and that their failure to capitalise on its recent weakness may well come back to bite them. Avon insists they go to Helotrix to find the secret behind the Federation’s success.

We then have a fascinating little meal between Quute and his commanding officer. It seems to be quite a luxurious meal, complete with (real?) white wine. And the conversation- death from afar vs. close fighting with cold steel- starts a theme which is developed throughout the episode. Some exposition is cleverly mixed up here; the Helots, like other recently conquered people, have been “adapted” courtesy of a drug which renders them docile. There’s a debate about whether or not this makes them good soldiers which, again, foreshadows later events.

Back aboard the Scorpio, Dayna’s ethnicity gets mentioned for the second episode in a row, and it’s explained that Helotrix is one of the earliest settled planets, and one of the first to declare independence from the Federation. Interestingly, Soolin implies she disputes the contention that humans all originate from Earth, which seems to imply that at least some degree of historical knowledge has been lost. Then again, I suppose it’s no worse than the barmy conspiracy theories that infest the Internet today.

This comment is the only spark of personality that Soolin displays, incidentally. Three episodes in she seems to have no personality and no hinterland whatsoever. I still have no idea who she is.

A comment from Vila confirms that he Scorpio is a much, much more rubbish ship than the Liberator was, and that they have no chance whatsoever of outrunning Federation pursuit ships. Orac may be designing faster engines (or delegating the task of doing so!), but we get the sense that the days of our heroes occupying a state-of-the-art ship are long gone.

It’s Dayna and Tarrant who teleport down to discover the Federation’s apparent new secret weapon. On the surface, the new governor arrives, and we get some exposition. It seems that Servalan (who seems to have changed her title to “supreme empress”!) is no longer in charge, and presumed dead, after a coup took place against her. Still, her body is missing, and that tells us everything, including that she escaped from the Liberator.

This planet has a unique and impressive quality; foggy, marshy and oppressive, it doesn’t look at all like the South East of England. It looks as though it may well have been filmed in some truly exotic climes, such as East Anglia, perhaps. Dayna and Tarrant, hiding in the fog, have the good fortune to bump into Hunda, there on a mission of his own, who’s exactly the chap they need. He tells them what they need to know about the Federation’s mind-altering drug.

Meanwhile, the new governor is murdered by persons unknown, and Leitz turns out to be a secret rebel agent, telling Hunda of away to get into the Federation HQ through the “old monorail” (how prescient of Holmes to guess that they would become passé!), while Dayna and Tarrant are told where the drug is manufactured, which is conveniently nearby.

All is not as it seems, however; Leitz is a double agent who has lured them all into a trap. The scene in which he reveals this is a typically assured piece of writing by Holmes, as he uses the fact that he was leaking secrets to the Federation’s enemies as his alibi for the governor’s murder!

Dayna and Tarrant meet Forbus, a bloke in a wheelchair who has been forced to manufacture the MacGuffin Drug (Did he mention homeopathy as though it were a plausibly scientific process? Grr!) under duress, by Leitz and the equally sadistic Sleer. Fortunately, he has an antidote! This immediately alerts our heroes that they’re walking into a trap set by Leitz, and they set off to warn their fellow rebels.

The Scorpio is spotted, but Avon prefers to hide behind the clouds rather than bugger off. There was a time when he wouldn’t have done that; he seems a lot more impulsive these days and, dare I say it, shows some indications of a death wish. Is this the result of the devastating revelations surrounding Anna Grant? It’ll be interesting to see if this theory continues to hold water.

Dayna and Tarrant manage to warn Hunda and suggest changes to the plan of attack, which goes ahead successfully. In the mêlée, however, they spot none other than Servalan! It turns out that the previously unseen Sleer is in fact Servalan under an assumed name. Leitz is her accomplice and, it seems, her lover, but at the slightest hint of blackmail she naturally bumps him off.

Tarrant and Dayna return to the Scorpio and reveal to Avon that Servalan is alive. He’s not best pleased…

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: Death-Watch

“Space. The final frontier, as it was once called…”

Chris Boucher is back, and this is a bloody good ‘un. These two facts may well be connected.

The opening scene, with spaceship models floating through the ether as we hear voices communicating electronically, echoes Boucher’s own Star One. But then we move to a fascinating scene. Aboard a luxury starliner is one Deeta Tarrant, played by none other than Steven Pacey. This man is clearly a massive celebrity in these parts, a fact that becomes very clear indeed when an attempt is made to assassinate him. It seems he’s some sort of “warrior”.

The Liberator, meanwhile, has escaped from Servalan’s fleet just like that. There was a time when a fleet of Federation pursuit ships would have presented at least some sort of threat, but those days are apparently gone. Instead, the crew amuses itself with current events. Apparently Orac has discovered that the United Planets of Teal and the Vanlor Confederacy are at war. Almost as good as the Internet is old Orac…

Tarrant is keen to head straight to the “combat grounds” although it’s interesting, in the light of this season’s personal interactions, that he looks for Avon’s permission first. Apparently, a war between these two powers is resolved by the simple method of each side appointing a champion to fight in a dual to the death, provided over by a neutral computer. Cally may find it barbaric (and, to be fair, the way it appears to be pushed as entertainment is certainly that), but it certainly cuts down on the casualties of war.

The crew of the Liberator then settle down to watch a bit of telly. We then get a wonderfully metatextual set of scenes as our television characters watch the television, and we get to see a presenter doing a piece to camera, and then talking to his extremely camp producer afterwards. A lot seems to have changed in the future, but television hasn’t, it seems.

It seems both champions have “seconds”; Deeta’s is Max (Stuart Bevan), a local diplomat. There are three arbiters for the process, it seems- one for each side, and a neutral arbiter, in this case none other than Servalan. The weapons, in an amusing nod to the Western, are “ancient” pistols. We meet Deeta’s opponent, the supremely confident Vinni, and through Max we get to see rather effectively just how nervous Deeta is.

A planned excursion by our heroes to the planet’s surface is cut short by the fact that there’s sod all going on, but not before Avon has a most interesting chat with Servalan, protected by the fact that all violence among visitors is forbidden during the duel. Avon threatens Servalan, ascertains she’s hiding something, and then kisses her(!) before leaving. Interesting relationship we have there. Also interesting to wonder how Dayna would react if she knew, especially given Vila’s later faux pas, which makes it clear that she still very much has it in for Servalan.

Tarrant is unable to speak to his brother before the fight, but has an interesting chat with Max, discovering that the absence of apparent festivities is because everyone is using a disc to tap into one of the contestants’ feelings as “catharsis”, and in no way as entertainment. Showing some initiative for once, he grabs one of each.

The duel begins, and the environment, naturally, is uncannily similar to the sort of thing that might be considered a cheap location. Deeta shows himself to be chivalrous, passing up an easy shot from behind in order to accept a challenge to a straight-up, Western style, quick draw challenge. He loses, and the camera goes into slow motion as he is killed. Tarrant and Dayna have respectively been monitoring both opponents. Tarrant is devastated, but Dayna notices something wrong with Vinni. He seems to have no instinct, just superhuman reflexes. It’s clear he’s an android, put there by Servalan to get caught and invalidate the contest. This will lead to a full-scale, traditional war, which can only end with Servalan stepping in to “restore order”, eventually annexing both entities. She’s a clever one, that Servalan. Even cleverer, the android won’t even be aware it isn’t human. It’s just like Blade Runner, two years early. Clever, clever Avon for working all this out.

There’s a solution, though; as the dead man’s brother, Tarrant has the right to challenge the android to a rematch, and Avon sets a trap. Tarrant cheats, shooting Vinni, and the evidence is conveniently vaporised away. We end with Avon and Tarrant explaining a version of this to Max; a version which, naturally, implicates Servalan. If Max makes an objection, the contest will be void, and a new contest can start. This time, of course, Teal will insist on full prior medical examinations, and a new neutral arbiter will be appointed. It’s time for Avon and Tarrant to make a sharp exit, though; Tarrant is now legally Teal’s First Champion…

Blake's 7: Moloch

“The Liberator? That’s Blake’s ship.”

“He liked to think so…”

So, Ben Steed has another script after his excellent Harvest of Kairos. This isn’t as good, but it’s still a quality script. Mercifully, after last episode, the characters are well-handled and there’s some movement of the season arc.

The ship has been following Servalan for twenty-seven days, just to find out what he’s doing. This shows us, firstly, that Avon is still very much top dog at this point and, secondly, that although he doesn’t have the political commitment of Blake he’s certainly driven by curiosity. And yet, recently, there’s the sense that he’s aimlessly allowing Servalan to become a bigger threat over time. It’s notable that his only motivation for following Servalan’s ship to the mysterious hidden planet is sheer curiosity. He’s still much more sensible than Tarrant, though. He’s a much diminished figure, it seems, after recent events. His plan to teleport down through a barrier which repels all electromagnetic waves is typically reckless and stupid.

The Liberator makes it through, just avoids crashing, and ends up outside the barrier again. We see just enough of the planet to see that the surface in close-up consists of a couple of obvious drawings. Meanwhile, two women, Chesil and Poola (the only natives we ever in fact see) are on monitoring duty, and choose to erase all records of the incident, in the hop that the intruding ship may offer them help.

Avon asks Zen for a printout (how very quaint!), for information on the planet. Meanwhile, Poola, having been caught erasing evidence of the Liberator’s arrival, is punished by being “given to the men” for a purpose which is quite clear. Even more horrible is the fact that she isn’t seen again.

Servalan at last arrives, but something isn’t right. The two officers in charge, Lector (appropriately close to “lecher”) and Grose, are of oddly junior rank. They also have strangely easy access to such apparently rare things as “real wine, from grapes” (which Servalan doesn’t appreciate, the philistine), and “coffee too, from beans”. Never mind the blatant tyranny; I wouldn’t want to live in a future without wine in it. That’s true dystopia.

Servalan’s less than subtle digs at her hosts’ gluttony, lust and sadism are followed by some probing questions about mysterious accidents that seem to have befallen their senior officers, and the glaring absence of the massive fleet which is the reason for her being here. She declares that they are both under court martial. But their obvious lack of concern already makes it clear that all is not as it seems.

Orac reveals that the hidden planet is called Sardos, and its small population have predicted their own evolutionary future. Er, how? Evolution isn’t predestined! It’s merely the survival of those random mutations best suited to the many and unforeseeable circumstances faced by a species. Never mind; somehow they’ve done this, and seek to gain control, of their own evolution. This is clearly going to be relevant later on.

Orac also reveals a nearby transport ship which will offer a way of arriving on the planet unseen. Tarrant bullies Vila into teleporting down with him, just as he did earlier in the season; is this pointing towards his eventual comeuppance, I wonder? Typically, Tarrant arrives all right while Vila is soon caught. Less usually, he is instantly invited to join in the party!

The fun doesn’t last long; Tarrant soon prises Vila from his new friend Doran, pulling a gun on him; that’s some comeuppance coming! It seems this ship was full of escapees from a penal planet, and that they’re nothing to do with Servalan who, it is increasingly clear, is not in charge. Avon and Dayna (increasingly the two who are at the top of the pile on the Liberator), teleport down to find their missing comrades. Meanwhile, Vila discovers that Doran is perhaps not such a nice guy, after all (“My problem was always women.” “You like them?” “No…”.). He reminds me of Gan, circa Series One.

Servalan is told that the planet is run by a massive computer which is able to replicate any item it has scanned, transmuting rock into gold, or teleport bracelets, or indeed dead mice. This is controlled by something called Moloch, and is part of a criminal enterprise planned by Lector and Grose. The escaped criminals are to be the crew of their pilot ship, and Moloch declares of Servalan that they should “Give her to your men!”

Fittingly, Servalan is “given” to Vila, who is not exactly going to rape her. The two of them promptly escape, and make a rather amusing double act. Meanwhile, Avon and Dayna find the replicator machine, where clever old Avon starts to work things out. We know he’s gaining quite a lot of knowledge because he bites into an apple in a rather clumsy little Biblical metaphor.

Servalan ends up escaping, while Vila meets up with Doran and Poola. Avon’s theorising is briefly interrupted by a little light torture from our two erstwhile pirate captains, but he swiftly points out to them that Moloch isn’t telling them everything; who’s in charge? Tarrant, Vila and co soon promptly rescue them (with the rather nastily misogynistic Doran getting a suitably meaningless death), but they are soon under the control of the computer, itself controlled (as clever Avon expected) by Moloch, a living projection of the natives’ evolutionary future. Er, ok. Anyway, he’s a Muppet.

It turns out the whole thing was a trap, arranged for the Muppet to get his paws on the Liberator. His plan works perfectly, and he promptly teleports over and immediately dies, having made the elementary mistake of failing to realise the separation from his life support system would kill him. Pillock. Avon, meanwhile, rather cleverly replicates them all a load more teleport bracelets.

We end on what seems to be a cliffhanger, though; the Liberator is surrounded by Servalan’s pursuit ships, and is poised to run. How will they get out of this one? After all, it’s not as though they’ve got out of this sort of situation many times before, is it?

Blake's 7: Rumours of Death

“Oh. Don’t tell me, let me guess. You only ever followed orders?”

This episode is extraordinary. Simultaneously the finest character study of Avon we’ve yet seen, somewhat disorientating in its cleverer-than-it-looks structure, and also managing to be an “arc” episode, this is a showcase for the massive talents of both Chris Boucher and Paul Darrow.

The beginning is a shock; Avon, in a suitably grotty cell, with sounds of unpleasantness in the background and signs of mistreatment conveyed by Darrow’s performance. He’s been there for five days, and has finally attracted the attention of the chief torturer, Shrinker. Then, the tables are suddenly turned, as Avon stops transmitting his signal. Dayna and Tarrant suddenly teleport into the cell, and the three of them force Shrinker back to the Liberator. It’s a brilliant reversal, and a stand-out scene.

What follows is almost as good. Inevitably, the torturer comes in for some baiting from Dayna and Tarrant, but Cally refuses to join in, realising that behaving in this way can lead to a very dark place.

Meanwhile, Servalan is about to take possession of her presidential planet with is on Earth and, inevitably, somewhere that looks an awful lot like Hertfordshire. We see a rather senior married couple, Chesku and Sula, discussing how “Earth and the inner planets are once again united” under Servalan; once again we learn of the limited range of her authority as “president”. But this scene is also, if less dramatically, upended, as Sula turns out to be in league with rebels, shooting her husband dead. Meanwhile, we’re introduced to military double act Granlee and Forres (David Haig), some rather well-drawn and acted characters who are the framing device for much of what follows.

The crew have agreed to carry out Avon’s intentions from last episode; to track down Anna Grant’s killer. There’s a reason for the kidnapping; teleporting down with Shrinker to a subterranean cave, Avon eventually learns more than he’s bargained for, as do we, the viewers. There’s a flashback to Anna Grant, and we have two surprises. Firstly that Anna, apparently the great love of Avon’s life, calls him by his surname(!) and, secondly, that she’s played by the same actress as Sula and is thus the same person. Well, one surprise for me as I didn’t actually notice the big revelation until it was rather more blatantly pointed out later on…

Shrinker convinces Avon that he never met Anna, and that Avon was always being “run” by a Federation agent known as “Bartholomew”; it seems this person may be the killer, and it’s possible that Servalan would know more. With that, Avon abandons the torturer to die in the cave, his mercy extending only to giving him a gun. It’s a graphic example of how, behind Avon’s carefully maintained sardonic exterior, are some very, very passionate feelings.

Servalan, meanwhile, is on film in a posh house, about to host some posh dinner as president. Her presence is making our two surveillance chaps nervous, and rightly so; the rebel plan is being executed very competently indeed, and when the final attack is sprung it works perfectly. Both of our surveillance chaps are shot, and David Haig’s light relief character is the one who’s killed; this tells us something about what we can expect from the tone of the rest of the episode.

The rebels’ moral dilemma of what to do with Servalan nicely mirrors the scene with Shrinker earlier, in the Liberator. It also indicates that their position is not so secure now that they’ve completed their immediate objective; what do they do now? The consequences could be grave, especially as a dying Granlee calls for help.      

The contrast is with a fairly united Liberator crew; for all the quips from Dayna, Tarrant and Cally, they care about Avon because, deep down, they know that he cares a lot for them. Again, passions underneath the cold exterior. 

They find the palace under occupation, with Servalan chained to a wall (kinky!), in obvious distress and showing signs of physical violence. She’s a distressing sight; Jacqueline Pearce is great here.    

Sula’s arrival is a crushing moment for Avon, of course, as he instantly recognises her. Flashbacks of Shrinker’s words reverberate effectively as she tries to convince him she still loves him; she is Bartholomew, and was always using him from the beginning. Only when she tries to kill him does he shoot her, and he’s a broken man. “I let you go, my love”, she says, dying. “No, you never let me go, you never did,” he replies, allowing us a glimpse at those deep, deep passions. Avon is such a more complex and interesting character than he’s often taken for.                                              

Blake's 7: The Children of Auron

“The trouble with the people of Auron is that they all suffer from a superiority complex.”

Is it me, or does Servalan look particularly ravishing in this episode with that gorgeous make-up? Then again, I do have a bit of a predilection for evil women. She’s back, anyway, complete with mutoids and fractious underlings, and this time she’s more heinous than ever, planning to unleash a plague on Cally’s home planet of Auron.

Meanwhile, aboard the Liberator, Avon (who seems to be more or less top dog at this point) has decided they’re all going to Earth to “execute” Anna Grant’s killer. This is a far cry from Blake’s idealism (although this, as we’ve seen, carried its own big problems), and I think the sheer crudeness of this desire for revenge rather appals Cally, who spends this episode uncharacteristically at odds with him. But this stuff, of course, is only here to be contrasted with the motivations Cally is soon to acquire, which will cause Avon to be outvoted.

Servalan “rescues” an Auronar pilot (Michael Troughton) and infects him with a nasty pathogen before sending him on his way, and he duly infects the planet. This is the first time we’ve got to see Auron, a planet we’ve heard so much about, and it’s a crushing disappointment to behold; a control room staffed by people in dull space uniforms, an equally dull laboratory, and a bit of location footage shot in an industrial complex. That’s it. And, aside from the fact that for the last three decades they’ve reproduced by cloning (why?), they’re a bit telepathic (although we only actually see this with Cally and her sister, although it’s only the younger, cloned, generations that seem capable of this), and they’re strictly neutral, we get absolutely no impression of their having any kind of culture or hinterland. It’s a terrible waste of an opportunity.

Conveniently, Cally has a twin sister, Zelda, and Zelda’s telepathic abilities are apparently capable of traversing many light years instantaneously to reach Cally. So, er, telepathic vibes can travel faster than light then? Oooo-kaaay…

Avon is unable to persuade everyone that it’s a trap, so off they go. It is a trap, of course, but it’s more than that. Servalan wants to use their cloning technology to reproduce- asexually, with all the children being young copies of herself. It’s interesting to see Servalan showing a maternal instinct, but there’s something cold and sexless, not to mention genocidal, about how she intends to fulfil it.

I realise this is going to make be sound incredibly stupid, by the way, but it’s only when Avon suggests consulting Orac about what to do that I realised that Orac is transparently intended as a kind of “oracle”. How thick am I? Never mind. It’s also revealing to hear the Auronars refer to Servalan as merely the “president” of a “faction” of the “ex-Federation”. It seems her powers are not as great as her fancy title might imply.

Everyone, aside from Dayna, Vila and, if he counts, Orac, teleport down, and it’s not long before they and their rather wet hosts are taken prisoner by one of Servalan’s squabbling underlings. Servalan is now in a position to bargain with Vila for the Liberator by threatening to kill everyone. Unfortunately, her plan fails miserably because for some reason she forgets Dayna exists. It’s nice to see Dayna kicking some arse, incidentally. She’s being written with more personality than lately, and I like her- smart, loyal, fond of administering a good kicking but ultimately kind and caring. Plus Josette Simon is rather attractive, I have to say…

As usual, Servalan’s plans unravel, and the subplot between Servalan’s two underlings becomes interesting; Ginka, the junior underling, lies to Servalan, claiming that his superior officer destroyed her own offspring and replaced them with his. This means Servalan no longer has any reason to blow up the room out heroes are hiding in. They all manage, with Dayna’s help, to teleport away, complete with incubators containing the genetic material for five thousand babies. Inevitably, Cally and her sister (who inevitably meet, although only through glass; the budget won’t stretch to split screen!) can’t both be allowed to live due to the strains this would place on the special effects budget, so Zelda has to rather pointlessly sacrifice herself.

Servalan instinctively knows that her own “children” are blown up (er, quite), and is genuinely anguished by this, instantly killing both of this episode’s underlings.

It’s not clear how this ends for Auron- there’s to be a new Auronar colony with a disturbingly young median age, yes, but what happened to the survivors on Auron itself? This is a fairly rubbish script from Roger Parkes, really, and the Hanna Barbera ending is possibly the worst bit of all.

Blake's 7: Harvest of Kairos

“But first there is the question of that degrading and primitive act to which I was subjected in the control room.

I should like you to do it again.”

Another new writer, then: Ben Steed. IMDb tells me very little about him, but he’s come up with one of the finest scripts I’ve ever seen on Blake’s 7. We begin in media res as the Liberator faces attack from four Federation pursuit ships while Avon and Vila are on the planet below. In previous episodes this sort of scenario has formed a central part of the plot; here, it’s a mere curtain-opener.

Servalan (still on that space wheel thing even though she’s now president), while supervising the attack, is told by this week’s underling, Dastor, that a construction worker called Jarvik has mocked her constant failure to capture the Liberator. Interestingly, this is conveyed by the phrase “They say you’re afraid of Tarrant”. This is interesting; as per last episode, it’s interesting to speculate on whether or not Avon is still in effective control of “his” ship. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, of course; one again, Tarrant doesn’t order Avon about as he does the others, and Avon does at one point explicitly comment on Tarrant’s famed skills as a space commander. It’s possible that Avon is simply delegating combat to the most skilled member of his crew, but it doesn’t feel that way, especially as Avon spends the entire episode being somewhat detached, obsessing over some rock he’s found.

We meet the construction worker, Jarvik, as Servalan demands an explanation. All she gets is a “Woman, you’re beautiful,” and an unexpected and unsought kiss! This, and the quote at the top there, are… interesting. Is the script, as opposed to the character, being misogynistic here? This isn’t just kinkiness, which would be fine; it’s non-consensual. And Servalan’s reaction might be thought to send out worrying messages that all women “want” it. I suppose the power relations between the two of them, with Servalan being an absolute dictator who is implicitly always in control, are a satisfactory mitigating factor as far as the character of Servalan is concerned; I can believe her reaction. But the subtext is still worrying.

Anyway… Jarvik gets to look clever by making snide comments as Servalan’s attack inevitably fails. And he correctly predicts that Tarrant will take the Liberator to Kairos, for its harvest. (At this point, deciding where to take the Liberator, Tarrant seems to be blatantly acting as leader. Yes, he takes a vote, and yes, Avon declines to comment when asked, but he’s taking charge.) The planet is hostile to human life for some reason, except during “harvest week”, where the fantastically valuable Kairodan crystal can be found; under Avon and/or Tarrant, the crew of the Liberator seem to be, up to a point at least, thieves interested in personal wealth. With Blake and the Federation gone, so has any clear political aim.

Our two newbies are developing in opposite ways here; Tarrant is competent, warm, and less annoying, while Dayna is showing fewer and fewer personality traits.

It seems Jarvik once knew Tarrant, and was in fact once his superior officer before being downgraded to construction worker for crimes which are, interestingly, unspecified. He’s very much the no-nonsense alpha male type, intelligent but appreciative of the textures and pleasures of life, and very much against computers; this seems to be a running theme this series. Servalan is intrigued by him, both cerebrally and sexually, temporarily promotes him to acting major, and gives him three modern pursuit ships to see if she can capture the Liberator.

Servalan gets to show how deliciously evil she is by ordering the harvest ship on Kairos to abandon the labourers to certain death so she can fit more Kairodan on to the ship. There’s a great scene as a guard gloats at their inevitable deaths, until he realises he’s being abandoned too!

Servalan observes and commentates, despairingly, as Jarvik carries out his cunning plans. That it is, until Jarvik tells her to “Lie there and keep quiet until I tell you otherwise!” Tarrant and co teleport to the cargo hold where the Kairodan is being held, where they are ambushed. In a brilliant scene, Avon then rouses himself briefly from his study of the rock to casually rescue them all, stating, devastatingly, that “They were an obvious possibility, Tarrant!” But, of course, this is a ruse; the real trap is in the crates, a sort of Trojan Kairodan. Servalan is on the point of arresting Jarvik for failure when the capture of the Liberator is reported.

Servalan demands that the ship register her voice pattern on pain of killing the crew one by one. Tarrant naturally refuses, but Avon is very clever indeed. Forcing Servalan to order Zen to drop them off on the nearest planet, he seems to have outsmarted her, until it turns out that the nearest planet is Kairos, and the harvest is over.

Jarvik rejects command of the Liberator and, although television convention dictates that we next see them fully clothed in bed, quite obviously proceeds to have some rather good sex with Servalan. For motives which are by now almost entirely sexual, though, Servalan persuades him to teleport to Kairos and grab all of the former crew’s teleport bracelets, “If you’re to me man enough for me.” Jarvik agrees, and insists on going alone, cos he’s well ‘ard.

On the surface we see an archaic landing module- lucky, that, as it turns out- and the secret of the planet: some extremely large grubs have hatched. Passing over the awkward fact that they look rather less convincing than the pantomime horse off Rentaghost, we learn that they eat Kairodan, and will kill anyone who’s touched it. There is fighting and macho posturing aplenty as Jarvik arrives, and he returns from his mission with all of the bracelets plus Dayna as an added bonus. Servalan orders the local area of the surface to be bombarded, and our heroes are in very big trouble.

Appropriately, it’s Avon who saves the day, with the rock. Its means of self-preservation is to convince any attacker that it’s a slightly bigger and better version of itself. Zen is convinced that this tiny little capsule is, in fact, a massive and far superior ship, in spite of the scanner image showing that it blatantly isn’t. Jarvik isn’t fooled, but Servalan is, and she calls off the attack. Jarvik’s accidental death by friendly fire is a little contrived, but this doesn’t really detract from an outstanding episode.

Blake's 7: Volcano

“If that’s winning, I’ll take losing every time.”

An Allan Prior script, this time. It’s something of a by-the-numbers, mildly disappointing episode, but it’s fascinating to see how Tarrant and Dayna continue to develop and relate with their new comrades. It’s such a shame that Servalan seems to have permanently changed from Machiavellian schemer to stereotypical scenery-chewing baddie.

Stock footage of a volcano to start with, as Dayna and Tarrant teleport down to the planet Obsidian to find some friends of Dayna’s father. Meanwhile, also on this planet are Michael Gough and a robot that, firstly, looks ridiculous and Lost in Space-y and, secondly, looks like a man in a suit. Not good.

Meanwhile, on the Liberator, Avon and Vila are theorising about the planet, its volcano, and how come it has managed to avoid being colonised or dragged into the Galactic War. Is it me, though, or has Vila lost a few IQ points this series? He seems at times to be as stupid as Avon keeps saying he is.

Oh, and there are rumours of Blake being on this planet, apparently. He’s only been away a couple of episodes and now he’s some kind of mysterious, legendary figure.

Dayna and Tarrant are an interesting pair. Dayna entirely trusts her new comrades (especially Avon!), but Tarrant is still finding it hard to trust anyone completely. He seems to be a loner at heart. It’s not long before they’re captured, but their captors don’t seem all that hostile. The chap played by Michael Gough is called Hower, and his rather bland son is Bershar. Fortunately, the old man knew Dayna’s father. They’re friendly pacifists, socially engineered to be that way because of electric shocks and constant propaganda. This bit troubles me. Isn’t this all a bit totalitarian? The script doesn’t seem to have much to say on the debate between peace and free will. That’s particularly disappointing for a programme based on the theme of freedom vs. tyranny.

Servalan is nearby and, although Travis is dead, there are still Mutoids. She seems to know exactly where to find the Liberator. I wonder why that is? At last, a bit of a mystery. It’s not as though Hower and his lot are the only suspects! It’s interesting to see how the politics are changing, too. Now that Servalan is President, and therefore less interesting with no greasy pole to climb, her new underling, Mori, is the new Servalan, a potential Supreme Commander, with the Liberator as potential prize. This gives a real sense of things being in flux, but at the same time the series is feeling a little unsettled and uncertain.

Avon gets a good episode, though. Being leader has given him a sense of responsibility he never had before, but he’s entirely the same person. His closet heroism may be more obvious now without Blake to hide behind, but he still tries to hide behind cynical comments. Still, he’s the one who’s teleporting all over the place, finding out what’s going on, and co-ordinating everything. He’s a more efficient leader than Blake ever was, and underneath it all he’s far more concerned for his crew.

Tarrant and Dayna are, inevitably, betrayed by Michael Gough’s son, who is not quite the pacifist his father is. Meanwhile, Servalan has a fleet of eight ships in orbit.

Things start to get very pear-shaped indeed, with the Liberator surrounded, and boarded by four soldiers. They’re driven away, but not without taking Cally and Orac with them. At least, as it turns out, Dayna and Tarrant were never really in much danger; they’re soon freed by Michael Gough, who soon calmly kills his own son(!) in a not-entirely-pacifistic manner. Even less pacifist is the massive nuclear bomb we’re now told lurks under the volcano, waiting to be operated by means of a Big Red Button. That’s how the planet has avoided unwelcome attention; no one’s called their bluff. Except they’re not bluffing. As soon as our heroes are all back on board, the planet goes boom. This story might not have much to say on the blatantly tyrannical nature of their society, but I’m guessing that Allan Prior was no great fan of nuclear weapons.

It doesn’t lead anywhere, incidentally, but Servalan muses at one point that, without Blake, the crew of the Liberator are “merely criminals” and “they’ll keep!”