Doctor Who: The Happiness Patrol

Part One



“Can’t you afford a real gun?”

Everything in this story is very obviously studio-based, with the studio floor prominent even in the early scenes set in a “street”. But this is only a problem if you’re expecting things to be “realistic”, and this story isn’t supposed to be. This is abstract theatre with a camera pointed at it, with sets and costumes to match. And it’s great.

The style of the streets, with a very “Big Brother” visible face on the wall, seems very reminiscent of Kneale and Cartier’s 1954 TV version of 1984. The planet of Terra Alpha is exactly this kind of totalitarian state, and the state persecution of those who refuse to conform by being “happy” works well as a metaphor for all sorts of things. I remember a lot of talk in mid-‘90s fanzines of this story being about Section 28; I don’t think there’s anything to indicate that was particularly intended, but it’s one of many valid interpretations.

As soon as the Doctor and Ace arrive they immediately start plotting regime change, and this story charts how the Doctor acts as a catalyst for the overthrow of Helen A’s regime over the course of a single evening. Helen A herself, played superbly by Sheila Hancock, is of course in no way based on Thatcher.

Visually and stylistically, this feels very similar to Vengeance on Varos, not only with the corridors and the go-karts but in the general aesthetic. What’s different is that instead of violence and sadism we see a less graphic but more insidious type of tyranny, much more psychological in how its people are mistreated. Activities such as walking alone in the rain, wearing dark clothing and reading poetry (except poetry) are banned as unconducive to happiness, the result of which is that Terra Alpha is an utterly joyless place. In fact, it resembles 1984 in more ways than one, with the general drabness of this society echoing the late ‘40s Britain of rationing and gloom which partly inspired Orwell’s novel in the first place.

The sight of the Kandyman is a shock, though- how on Earth did the BBC avoid getting sued?



Part Two



“He makes sweets that kill people.”



The “drones” who work in the factories are demonstrating against the regime, while the indigenous people of the planet have been driven underground. The conditions for revolution are in place. But first the Doctor and Earl Sigma (whose white t-shirt and suit looks so 1988) must escape the Kandyman, who seems to have a lot of personality for an artificial being. It’s a great scene, with the Doctor using his wits and some lemonade to affect their escape.

As Susan Q is taken away to be executed, Priscilla P delivers the most horrifying line of the story to Ace, showing just what a conformist nightmare being in the Happiness Patrol must be: “She was never any good. She never had the right attitude. She never joined in. She wasn’t part of the team.” Stifling conformity and forced jollity; is there anything in the world as terrifying as that?

The Doctor gets another great moment, turning the tables on Trevor Sigma by sheer force of personality in a scene that manages to get away with being completely implausible by means of its extreme coolness. And mere minutes later he gets an even better one as he confronts the two snipers on the roof. This is a great story for the Doctor, and Sylvester McCoy plays these scenes brilliantly. I really like this new Doctor, with the contrasts between the cleverness and manipulative side on the one hand and the spoon playing and physical comedy on the other.

I love the bloke at the box office at the cliffhanger- such a typical example of British customer service.



Part Three



“I can hear the sound of empires toppling.”

“Everything’s beginning to fall into place,” says the Doctor. Revolution is imminent. Fifi is lured to her death, the factories are in open revolt, and Helen A is soon attempting to flee the planet. But there’s still time for a bit of comic relief as the Kandyman answers a retro looking telephone.

Helen A is unable to escape, as her shuttlecraft has been commandeered By Gilbert M and her partner Joseph P, who seem to be eloping together! Her final speech to the Doctor before she collapses into tears upon hearing about Fifi’s death is very strongly reminiscent of Thatcher.



This is a brilliant and very clever script superbly realised by a production style that quite correctly avoided realism in favour of the abstract. It would be easy to criticise this for this lack of realism, and especially for the use of a small cast in a story concerning the fate of an entire world, but that would be to miss the point. There are a couple of worries, however. The direction is a bit flat, but then again the fact that this is deliberately presented as televised theatre that would seem to be required. And I’m not sure taking such a boldly avant garde direction was an altogether wise move for a show which desperately needed to appeal more to a mainstream audience. In spite of its superficially childlike trappings, this is a very adult focused story, too; I’m not sure the story would appeal much to kids, many of whom would have probably seen it, ironically, as childish. I certainly did in 1988. But, all this aside, it still kicks arse. 5/5.

Doctor Who: Frontios

Part One

“We’re at war.”

“Really? With whom?”

“Well, that has yet to be determined.”

Christopher H. Bidmead again! After not enjoying his previous efforts I wasn’t particularly expecting to like this one much. I couldn’t have been much wronger. I’m still confused as to how the author of Logopolis and Castrovalva can be responsible for such strong plotting, gripping suspense, witty and naturalistic dialogue, and brilliant characterisation. I doubt it’s Eric Saward’s influence, frankly, so I’m left scratching my head. But I liked this. A lot.

Still, one thing hasn’t changed from Bidmead’s earlier efforts; the sheer imagination on display in his choice of story title.

We begin in the TARDIS, where Tegan has actually changed her clothes for only the fourth or fifth time ever. My, what a short skirt she’s wearing. Anyway, the TARDIS Acorn Electron flags up a warning that they’ve drifted too far into the future- perhaps beyond Gallifrey’s “present”? Anyway, it’s forbidden for Time Lords to travel there.

The planet in question, Frontios, seems to be entirely populated by former crew members of Imperial Star Destroyers, judging by the uniforms everyone is wearing. I spent pretty much the entire story half expecting Darth Vader to walk into shot and asphyxiate random characters but, at last, it was not to be. And everything on the planet beyond a few sets seems to consist of obvious matte backgrounds. None of this seriously harmed the story though- it’s script and acting that matter and in this story both are on song.

The Doctor gets involved, naughtily, and for the first time ever (?) puts on his glasses. His development into a more assertive, traditional Doctor is instantly apparent and his charisma, as much as his obvious knowledge and usefulness, instantly get chief scientist Range and his daughter Norna firmly on his side. That sort of thing wouldn’t have happened in previous seasons. It’s an extremely welcome development.

We’re introduced to the basic situation; a colony in a precarious situation, at war with an unseen power, and retreating into authoritarianism in its increasing desperation. We’re also given clear introductions to the characters, all of whom have memorable traits- I particularly like Plantagenet with his line in pompous cod-Churchillian speechifying at the drop of a hat.

And that’s quite a cliffhanger, the TARDIS apparently destroyed…

Part Two

“I think this joke’s gone far enough.”

The Doctor’s about to be shot, but the quick-thinking Turlough retrieves the situation by threatening everyone with the deadly hatstand. But the best thing about this scene is its subverting of expectations; when the Doctor insists that if Plantagenet won’t see reason he’ll just have to shoot him, Plantagenet… agrees.

A few succinct lines from Range to Tegan further underline the direness of their plight; constant death and a sense of panic are causing this society to unravel, and desertion (by “rets”) is increasing. And then there’s the “deaths unaccountable”. Meanwhile, Norna and Turlough establish that the late Captain Revere forbade all digging and that “the Earth is hungry”. That’s how to build up suspense!

Bragen’s still apparently paranoid, but the real sense of threat is no longer coming from him but underground. We see Plantagenet drawn beneath the surface and various characters venture underground, where there lurk some odd looking woodlice monsters. This terrifies Turlough, who starts to mutter about “Tractators”…

Part Three

“Frontios buries its own dead.”

The Tractators look very rubbery, the bottom of the costume is very unsatisfactory, and I can’t understand a great deal of what they say. But none of that stops this story being great- it’s all about the script and performances.

Mark Strickson is once again excellent in portraying Turlough’s mental breakdown, and once again the character gets some decent development- the character’s been quite well served so far. And it’s not just good character stuff that helps make the padding often necessary in a part three serve a useful purpose; the scene with Bragen and the looter, where the looter leaves only to be immediately attacked for his food makes a powerful point about human interdependence. Admittedly, though, it starts a minor plot thread which doesn’t really go anywhere. 

The story quite awesomely turns our expectations on their head as Range’s apparent show trial at the hand of the paranoid Bragen quickly metamorphoses into a council of war, and Bragen is revealed to have secretly been quite aware of what’s been going on but suppressing it for understandable reasons of morale. Suddenly we see the character, and everything he’s done so far, in an entirely different light.

Turlough, having been traumatised by the memories that have been unleashed, nevertheless resolves to join the others underground, an extremely brave thing to do. This is a pivotal moment for the character. After all, when we first met Turlough back in Mawdryn Undead he was shown to be a coward, a liar, even a bit of a bully, and quite willing to make a pact with the Whoniverse’s very own Mephistopholes. He may redeem himself a little by proving incapable of murder or betrayal but he’s still not a particularly agreeable character by the end of Enlightenment. And even these redeeming characteristics take the form of inaction, and so are themselves a form of cowardice.

Turlough has continued to be a bit of a coward ever since, always the first to suggest returning to the TARDIS at the sign of serious danger, or to insist that there’s nothing that can be done to help others. But the Doctor’s positive influence is having a gradual effect, and here for the first time he’s taking a brave step in facing his own very real fears in order to help his friends. A corner has been turned, it seems.

The cliffhanger is quite horrific in a body horror sort of way, although probably more so if you haven’t seen Voyage of the Damned…

Part Four

“Don’t mention it!”

I love the scene where the Doctor tries to pass Tegan off as an android to the Gravis, but “the walk’s not quite right.” Is this really the same Bidmead whose attempts at humour in Logopolis and Castrovalva fell so spectacularly flat? 

This story is so good, even the traditional Davison “showing off the TARDIS scene” is great. So good, in fact, that I’ll even discreetly gloss over the fact that the Tractators' plan is to, er, steer Frontios around the galaxy. Nothing to see here. Move along.

The Doctor quite unambiguously saves the day for once by cleverly tricking the Gravis into re-assembling the TARDIS through reverse psychology, causing the Gravis to fall asleep in exhaustion. And we end on a cliffhanger.

Wow. I wasn’t expecting something that good. This is my third 5/5 of the Davison era after Kinda and Enlightenment. It’s not quite up to the standard of those two exceptional stories, but in a sense it’s even more wonderful; while both of the other stories were one-offs, very different from all that surrounded them, this is very much of the Davison style, but done perfectly.