The Trollenberg Terror (1958)

"His head! It was torn off!"

Oh my God. Those special effects are... somewhat vintage. You can see why Mystery Science Theatre:3000 chose this almost-Hammer to start off with.

It feels uncannily like a third Quatermass film, with the plot and the character being played by Forrest Tucker both being very much in that lineage. Yet the original TV series upon which this is based (now sadly lost) was not penned by the mighty Nigel Kneale, and the whole effect is somewhat more light-hearted. And, yes, those monsters are... unique. Not for nothing was the film, under its US title of The Crawling Eye, used by Stephen King for an, er, tribute in It.

It’s fun and entertaining from the unconvincing matte paintings of the first scene to the realisation that the balding scientist with the balding late is being played by Alf Garnett. It’s formulaic, feels exactly like a sort of late Fifties Hammer monochrome sci fi film in spite of not technically being one (although it is from
Jimmy Sangster’s pen) and it doesn’t outstay its welcome. You can sort of tell it’s a truncated version of the lost six part telly series but it isn’t badly paced. And with that monster I think I may actually prefer it to either of its two Quatermass bedfellows.

Vampire Circus (1972)

"They play no games. They are death."

I love old Hammer movies, especially vampire ones. The combination of camp humour and genuine creepiness is such fun, and there's such fun to be had with the subtext, too. Take the opening sequence here, for example. It's your typical Hammer setting: somewhere vaguely Mittel-Europa-ish in what looks like Napoleonic times, and everyone has vaguely German or Slavic names. Yet there's a nasty old Count, living in a suitably gothic castle, who's cuckolding the local gentry by stealing their wives, which has mediaeval droit de seigneur overtones, and drinking the blood of their daughters, which has paedophile overtones. Oh, and he's a vampire. Naturally. There are all sorts of sexual and class subtexts here already.

We also have lots more of the usual tropes- mobs with burning torches, sinister forests, even the music. (Incidentally, does anyone know whether the David Whitaker who composed the music here is the same chap who script edited Doctor Who? It's not a common spelling of the surname so I wonder…). Most obviously, of course, there's a very direct equivalence of vampirism with sex; every single scene of necks being bitten in the whole film is so wonderfully erotic. Anna's lust for the Count probably implies that Albert, her husband, is a bit rubbish in the sack. Of course, being a woman who is seen to enjoy sex, she has to be punished by all the men, by being whipped. Which, er, obviously has no sexual overtones whatsoever.

All of this is just the set-up, though, in a pre-titles sequence, something surprisingly rare in films. A lesser film would have this as its main plot, but here it's a mere preamble to establish a curse and get on with the films main purpose; scaring us, titillating us and reminding us that circuses, and not just clowns, are the creepiest things ever. Because they are, aren't they? The mysteriousness, the feeling of a closed world, the highly dodgy treatment of animals and, yes, the clowns. I'm a little worried to see the treatment of a dwarf as "other" and therefore scary, and also the overtones of Gypsies being sinister ("Hey, woman! Gypsy woman!"), but circuses are well creepy. A circus like this would, I suppose, have been recognisable in 1972 but now, thankfully, it isn't.

The plot is wonderful and satisfying, although it's not at all clear why the townsfolk keep going to the circus if they all suspect it of extreme dodginess! There are some nice touches and some nice set pieces. I like the way the strongman (Dave Prowse, no less!) is unaffected by a crucifix as he's not a vampire, and that the quick-thinking (if wet!) Anton is able to use a crossbow as a crucifix. It all looks gorgeous (particularly the large quotient of beautiful young ladies!) and the direction, by Robert Young, is excellent, with lots of particularly brilliant shots. The film is let down by a lack of charismatic actors, however. The cast is mainly competent, or better, but there are no real lead actors to be seen. The exception is John Moulder-Brown, who is eye-poppingly awful and, unfortunately, in a very major role. With a better cast, this would have been a much better film.

Still, there's not a lot wrong with the script or the look of the film. I'm surprised that Robert Young doesn't seem to have done much else. The later Hammers certainly tend to be a lot more erotic, but there's some very good stuff.

Doctor Who: The Two Doctors

Part One

“Look at the size of that thing, Doctor!”

“Yes, it is a big one…”

So, to all intents and purposes the last ever old-fashioned six-parter. Phew!

There’s something rather worrying about a multi-Doctor story coming up at this point- it’s hardly likely to be seen as a vote of confidence in their new Doctor by the production team to pair him up with such a fondly remembered predecessor at this early stage. Still, the opening scene is great; we begin with the Second Doctor, in monochrome, with the old TARDIS console. Of course, the line about Victoria being off somewhere studying graphology is deeply absurd (probably a deliberate mickey take on the part of Robert Holmes, I shouldn’t wonder) and all that nonsense about the Doctor and Jamie working for the Time Lords would have completely broken continuity if Mawdryn Undead hadn’t already smashed it into a thousand pieces. Best not to think about such things. And I’m having none of that “Season 6b” nonsense, as I get my razors from that nice Mr Occam.

Anyway, we get a space station and the immediately fantastic John Stratton as Shockeye the Androgum, a fantastic character of the type we expect from Holmes. If we gloss over the continuity headaches then these opening scenes are great, marred only by the visual gag of the Doctor picking up a cucumber he expected to be a knife. I’m not one for insisting the Doctor should never use weapons but there are limits. And it’s decidedly odd hearing decidedly post- The Deadly Assassin sentiments about Time Lords being uttered by Patrick Troughton!

It’s great to see Jacqueline Pearce as Chessene, a suitably Servalan-esque character whatever the difference in her circumstances. And then we get a bit of proto-CGI applied to some Sontaran ships!

Meanwhile, our current Doctor is fishing while Peri seems bored. But at least their relationship is back on track again after the aberration of Mark of the Rani; they now seem like friends again. I believe this is our first sight of the Doctor’s umbrella? Anyway, I, er, approve of the way Peri is dressed.

The Doctor’s dialogue about fishing, incidentally, seems very much to parallel Shockeye’s earlier dialogue about eating humans. There’ll be a lot more of this sort of thing from our vegetarian scribe. Also disturbing is that they’re still on about the Doctor’s not-so-recent regeneration. It’s time to let it lie; this is the Doctor, full stop. Except that we, er, unaccountably have a multi-Doctor story at this point.

The Doctor collapses (well, a bit) in something of a Five Doctors moment as something apparently happens to his past self. The Doctor and Peri thus head to the space station, now occupied only by corpses. The baddies, meanwhile, head for a hacienda, not in Manchester but in Andalusia- it’s only 1985, after all; they’re about three years too early for Acid House.

Oh, and this is where we famously get introduced to our first Sontaran in long-shot, a fairly appalling lapse from Peter Moffat, who seems oddly sub-par throughout the story. The Sontarans look crap, for a start, and Shockeye’s Androgum make-up is a bit basic.

Towards the end we’re introduced to the lovely Anita and Oscar, who gets a speech on how he loves to kill moths with cyanide. Yep, another parallel with earlier speeches by Shockeye and the Doctor from our vegetarian scribe, methinks.

Part Two

 

“I think your Doctor’s worse than mine.”

Is it me, or have things been a bit slow so far? This is still shaping up to be a good ‘un, with great dialogue and characterisation in spite of some rather worrying flaws which I’ll get back to in a bit, but so far this has been oddly lacking in pace for a Holmes script. Things pick up now, though. It seems the “creature” that attacked Peri is in fact Jamie, and the Doctor becomes convinced that his earlier self has been killed and a time paradox has been created. The dialogue which follows would be embarrassing in the hands of a lesser writer, but we have Holmes instead; the Doctor’s soliloquy on the end of the universe is quite brilliant.

But the Troughton Doctor isn’t dead. He still has disappointingly little to do in this episode other than sit around, though. Meanwhile, Shockeye bites the head off a rat. Lovely. I could mention Ozzy Osborne here but I won’t.

The Doctor- er, the current Doctor- gleans the location of his earlier self with help from the bells of Seville Cathedral but still spares some time to give Jamie some advice about bathing (“You should try it more often”).

Interestingly, Holmes being a writer who first turned up quite late in the Troughton era, here we have the later, “Oh my giddy aunt!” version of the character, rather than the more manipulative character of the earlier stories who turned up again in The Three Doctors. Still, Troughton plays the part as though he’s never been away.

The scene where Shockeye discusses Earth cuisine, Spanish and Chinese recipe books to hand, is where the vegetarian and animal rights subtext stops being “sub” and really starts to intrude into the story. Subtle thematic nods (such as the aforementioned parallel speeches in the last episode) are fine, but by this point we’re really being bashed over the head with it. It doesn’t ruin the episodes (it’s got all of Holmes’ trademark wit and characterisation) but it does mar them somewhat.

Oh, and I love the bit where Peri, asked to provide a diversion for Chessene and co, protests that she doesn’t speak Spanish and the Doctor simply says “That’s all right. Neither do they.”

Part Three

“The nouvelle cuisine has not yet penetrated this establishment.”

I suspect another reason the story as a whole doesn’t quite reach Holmes’ usual standards is that he’s simply been given too many ingredients to deal with; two Doctors, Sontarans, and a Spanish setting (originally supposed to be New Orleans). Still, the final episode pretty much delivers. Early on our two Doctors first meet, but not for long; the Troughton Doctor is to be turned into an Androgum. Meanwhile, the Dastari / Chessene faction and the Sontarans have decided to betray and kill each other.

The whole episode centres around Shockeye and the Troughton Doctor, now an Androgum, heading to a restaurant while everyone else attempts to find them. Troughton as an Androgum is great fun, but it seems an odd decision to deprive us of seeing him playing the Doctor for such a large chunk of time. On the other hand, we do get the line about shepherd’s pie.

The setting moves to Seville (nice to see it) and unfortunately there’s another bit of performance from Colin Baker which doesn’t do it for me- “There’s more than one way to cook a cat”. Still, everything about the Doctor and Shockeye eating in the restaurant, with Oscar as waiter, is great. I love the description of all the courses they’ve consumed- along with their twelve bottles of wine. Unfortunately, Shockeye then kills Oscar, with the Doctor present. I know the Doctor’s not himself, but this is just wrong. He may not be the “current” Doctor but the character should never be put in this position. It’s been obvious Oscar was going to die all along, of course; as soon as his moth-killing activities became known it became clear that Holmes wasn’t going to let him survive.

We get more didactism as Shockeye tortures Jamie, claiming that he’s merely “tenderising the meat” and that “Primitive creatures don’t feel pain as we would.” It’s all far more blatant than I remembered. And it’s paralleled with the Doctor using Oscar’s cyanide to kill Shockeye. So, of our three characters to have made speeches in the first episode which defy Holmes’ vegetarian principles, two are punished by being killed- Shockeye by Oscar's cyandide for his moths and Oscar by Shockeye's knife, so each is killed in the way the other would kill an animal. Poetic justice, no doubt, if you're Robert Holmes. Only the Doctor, the hero of the show, is allowed to survive, albeit wounded by Shockeye's knife. And he’s going veggie to boot.

Oh, and the Second Doctor has a remote control for his TARDIS, does he? Slight problems reconciling that with The War Games, methinks…

Well, that was overly didactic, had too much on the shopping list to be included in the script, wasn’t particularly well directed, and although it was great to be seeing Troughton again this really isn’t the sort of thing to do with a new Doctor who hasn’t quite established himself yet. Still, it’s Holmes, meaning there’s wit and characterisation to see us through. The performances are largely good too; 4/5. It’s just that by Holmes’ standard that’s a sub-par score.

.

Doctor Who: The Leisure Hive

Part One

“Why can’t we do something constructive?”

It’s actually quite a shock to see a new title sequence after six solid seasons. Not to mention a new theme tune for the first time in fourteen! It all looks and sounds very much of its time. Not sure what I think of it yet. Not that it’s anything I’m not extremely familiar with, obviously, but the marathon does sort of put it all into context.

Anyway, the opening shot, panning across Brighton beach for about six hours, is quite bizarre. It’s not a bad idea in principle, but about half the actual length would have been quite enough. Personally it helps that I happened to visit Brighton earlier this year and actually recognise bits, but I imagine a lot of people back in 1980 would probably have… what did they used to say? Ah yes, tuned the television set to the other side. Not a good way to start a new series.

There’s clearly a new broom being wielded- the Doctor’s wielding (rather fetching) new clothes, Tom’s performance is being reined in, and what happens to K9 in this episode might just, at a pinch, indicate a teeny weeny bit of an anti-robot dog agenda. This scene might also be seen as symbolic- after the season-long holiday of Season Seventeen, suddenly holidays are no fun any more. What does this portend?

There’s talk of bypassing the randomiser and the general nastiness of the Black Guardian, all of which actually gives a sense of continuity to the regime just departed. And the Doctor and Romana are both the same as ever. There are many obvious changes here, but on present evidence the sudden change in this story is overstated. There’s a lot of new stuff here, but Spearhead From Space it ain’t.

Anyway, this story is all about Argolis, a sort of intergalactic Butlins with added technobabble. One of the Argolins, Pangol (you’d almost think this story was script edited by someone to do with computers…) is played by Inspector Grim himself, David Haig, but unfortunately it’s now the 80s so we have to put up with some rather dull boardroom scenes. It all looks very good, but underneath the story is little more than competent. I’m not sure what to make of the incidental music either, now that Dudley Simpson has been replaced by the Radiophonic Workshop.

Still, the middle eight’s back in the closing theme tune at least…

Part Two

“How long did the war last?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“As long as that?”

It’s an odd one, this story. The plot itself is sound, giving us a steady stream of revelations about things like the Argolins’ stability. There are good character bits too, like the relationship between Mena and Hardin and our knowledge that Hardin is actually lying to her about his experiments. There’s a nice scene where he confesses to Romana- he’s a believably weak yet sympathetic character.

And although this story has a sense of seriousness that’s been missing for a long time, there are still lots of examples of the type of humour that you’d expect from a David Fisher story, especially the visual gag of the Doctor’s scarf leading to a dead body (“Arrest the scarf then!”). It also looks very good indeed. But in spite of all this there’s something unengaging about this, and you imagine the kids must have been bored.

Part Three

“I’m sick of being old.”

It’s fascinating comparing Tom’s performance to the last few stories. He’s still playing the same character, with the same humour (and lots of funny lines, in spite of what people say) but still, there’s a bit more discipline to his performance, and his use of facial expressions in a serious way is better than it’s been for ages. He’s brilliant as the suddenly aged Doctor, with the shock to the audience being conveyed far more by his performance than by the make-up, excellent though it is. And we’re left to think this might be permanent.

Once again I’m not entirely sure why I’m not enjoying this more- the revelation that Pangol is the only young Argolin, born long after the war forty years ago, is a real twist- but there’s something fundamentally po-faced here, as though David Fisher’s script had had al the fun neutered out of it.

Part Four

“This time I must try to bring him up properly.”

That’s a very long reprise, uncomfortably so, in fact. But it’s an effective resolution to an effective cliffhanger, that our main human protagonist and his lawyer minion have been Foamasi, er, Mafiosi all along. But that also makes me wish I’d seen the fun Fisher originally had with this idea before Bidmead strangled it to death. Still, there’s one familiar fisher motif that’s in evidence here; the syndrome of the story ending right at the start of Part Four, just as in The Creature From the Pit.

Still, this time the filler that takes us to the end of the episode is actually quite good, and it’s been built up enough as a subplot to get away with it, just. And Pangol ends up with a second chance, getting to relive his childhood again. Good idea; they should give it another go sometime. Perhaps in, say, twenty-five years time? It’s a good ending to a story which looks great and has pretty much nothing wrong with it production-wise.

Overall, though, in spite of the fact it looks great, and deserved an awful lot of praise for looking as though it has a much higher budget than anything we’ve seen recently even though it probably hasn’t, already on his first story I have concerns about the direction in which Bidmead’s taking the show. Where was the fun? What was there for the kids to enjoy? 2/5.

Doctor Who: The Gunfighters

A Holiday For the Doctor

"I got no pianist on account of he was shot last week."


The first thing we hear is the song, and you either love it or hate it- personally I love it. It makes things clear from the start; there's to be no attempt at realism here. This is a pastiche of the Western movies, not a historical set in the American West. Plus, it's a great song. So there.

The name of Donald Cotton appearing onscreen at the start shows us that the dialogue is going to be uniformly great. Unfortunately, there's no guarantee that Cotton's lines are going to be as well delivered as they were in The Myth Makers, and the performances of the first actors we see, playing the Clanton brothers, are not encouraging. The accents are not just bad, they're not even trying. Plus things look a little cheap, especially as the story more or less invites us to compare it to Hollywood Westerns.

It's a great story if you can ignore the flaws, though, and if you can accept an outright pastiche comedy which deliberately makes no concessions to realism or historical accuracy. I love Steven and Dodo's new clothes, and the Doctor's introducing himself to Wyatt Earp as "Dr Caligari"- another postmodern moment.

Oh, and Anthony Jacobs is fantastic. Doc Holliday may be a rogue but he's a lot more likeable, charismatic and competently acted than the Clantons. His double act with Hartnell is superb. Hartnell's comic acting in the dentist's chair is also most excellent.

Don't Shoot the Pianist

"You know, in my whole life I never killed a friend."

"Aw! You're a real gentleman!"


Hmm, so Dodo's enjoying playing the piano under duress? Shades of The Celestial Toymaker here. And I must admit the song is just beginning to grate. But everything is made forgivable by the unflagging wit of the dialogue and the knowing use of all the tropes of the Western. All this plus Hartnell doing comedy- surely no Doctor since has approached Hartnell for comedy acting?

There's no real sense of danger in this story, but we're constantly kept entertained, and yes, it doesn't always work visually, the direction's a bit meh, and most of the guest cast are a bit dull, but at this point I'm still having enormous fun. Roll on the next ep.

Johnny Ringo

"Now pick him up gentle and carry him slow / He's gone kind of mental under Earp's heavy blow."


Did I see that right? A well-executed cliffhanger resolution which doesn't in any way cheat? Is this a first?

The story takes an upturn with this episode. Up to this episode I'd been slightly underwhelmed, feeling that although the lines sparkled the plot was dragging a bit, the acting was often ropey and the whole thing looked dull. But this episode has won me over; the plot kicks up a gear, the main guest characters (not the Clantons") are suddenly more charismatic, and the lines sparkle even more: "I just ran into an old friend and, uh, he kind of lost his appetite." But this increase in the humour quotient is balanced by a sense of foreboding; by this point we know, and are meant to know, that the showdown is coming and people are going to die. Our first inkling of the coming bloodshed is Johnny Ringo shooting Charlie in cold blood: this marks a turning point in the mood.

I suspect the barman getting shot is a common trope for Westerns, but annoyingly I haven't seen enough Westerns to be sure. I'm sure there are loads of allusions to genre convention I'm not getting.

The scene with Dodo pulling a gun on Doc Holliday is hilarious- today I like Dodo again. There's a great resolution, hilariously performed by Anthony Jacobs: "And I didn't want to have to shoot you neither!" The killing of Warren Earp raises the stakes though- things now look very ominous indeed...


The O.K. Corrall

"Well, glory be. Now you really have declared war."


It seems Ringo is planning on taking the Earps from behind, to the evident surprise of Billy: "Never had you figured for a backshooter, Ringo." Oo er. But Pa Clanton is panicked by the Doctor's message; the Earps know about Johnny Ringo! They have Doc Holliday with them! The heartbeat of the plot is starting to beat more quickly; even the song speeds up.

What's great about this episode is that, as with The Myth Makers but less so, there's an underlying tension and even a sense of tragedy at times, but unlike Donald Cotton's previous offering the one liners just keep coming: "Why these get-togethers have to be at sun-up I'll never know- it ain't civilised!" Once more I must praise the great Anthony Jacobs.

Odd that the Doctor and Holliday should get on so well given the somewhat amoral nature of the other good Doctor, but I'll let that slide as I'm enjoying myself. But the final scenes with the TARDISeers bidding farewell to Holliday and Kate are great, and the Doctor gets a wonderfully postmodern line: "My dear Dodo, you know you're becoming a prey to every cliché-ridden convention in the American west." It's a shame the Doctor leaves Holliday's wanted poster behind, mind.


That was the most fun story ever, getting better and better as it went on. as much as I'd like to, though, I can't in good conscience give it a 5/5; great as the script was, there were serious flaws- not just the accents but the entire performances of most of the Clantons dragged the whole thing down. Still, a very good 4/5.