Labyrinth (1986)

"It's only forever. Not long at all."

This film is all about two departed individuals- Jim Henson, the creative mind behind a fantasy film whose fantastic beasts are, in the best possible way, Muppets; and the similarly missed David Bowie, arguably the greatest solo artist who ever lived and a true genius right up until the end. I can't help observing, though, that this major Hollywood starring role came at a time when his career had entered its mid-'80s slump, having failed to match the commercial success of Let's Dance and not really to experience a sustained career renaissance until (unorthodox opinion alert) Earthling. In this film he's the same age I am now, a sobering thought.

But what of the film? Well, it's '80s Hollywood fantasy in the best possible way, redolent of both Time Bandits and The NeverEnding Story in that it plucks a child from the world of the mundane and plucks them into a world of fantasy and adventure. Indeed, the first two thirds of the script bear the indelible imprint of the great Terry Jones, however much his contribution may have been changed. Certainly, the great Sir Didymus, a part of popular culture whom I am now finally able to know, reminds me of nothing more than the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail which was, I believe, a Jones/Palin scene.

Jennifer Connelly is splendid as the teenage, fantasy obsessed lead and Bowie is, well, magnificently himself as the Goblin King, with plenty of musical numbers to match. I suspect the fantasy world is based on items within Sarah's bedroom; certainly the Escher painting finale is. And my fellow Doctor Who fans will be reminded not only of Castrovalva but, because of a certain riddle, Pyramids of Mars. It's a picaresque, absurdly humorous little movie that channels Alice in Wonderland in the most splendidly '80s way possible. Not to be missed.

Blake's 7: The Way Back

“Reality is a dangerous concept.”

It feels a bit weird reviewing something that’s not related to Doctor Who, sort of. Although of course it’s made by much the same people, and is a welcome return to watching some older television, which gives me more things to comment on. I watched Blake’s 7 before about five or six years ago, but only got a few episodes into Series Three. I’m quite excited this time round: lots of old-fashioned fun, lots of links to Who, and a chance to take the mickey out of Terry Nation’s clichés once again!

Let’s begin with the obligatory comments on the theme tune (legendary!) and title sequence (er… it’s embarrassingly obvious that starfield is just a matte painting, isn’t it? Even by 1978 standards). But we then immediately establish the moon with a few seconds focusing on a CCTV camera before we pan out. I know I’m always going on about CCTV cameras in old telly always symbolising the most awful extremes of totalitarianism (good job we’ll never have them on every street corner, eh?) but it’s never been more true than here. This opening shot foreshadows so much of the theme and mood of the episode, most obviously in that it’s effectively telling the viewer that they’re about to see a story about a totalitarian 1984-style state.

The 1984 parallels start early. We’re introduced to Roj Blake as an anonymous, quiescent drone, effectively lobotomised by the suppressants that the “Administration” puts in people’s food. Presumably the drab décor contributes to this as well- but wait, this is 1970s studio-based telly, isn’t it? We’re back to that curious 1970s vision of the future, all grey corridors and dull clothing, waiting for Blade Runner to come along and give screen sci-fi a kick up the aesthetic.

Blake is persuaded by a couple of rebel types to venture outside with them, something which is of course forbidden. This is not the last time there’s a clear debt to literary sci-fi; I can think of more than one Isaac Asimov novel in the Foundation series alone with such a scene.

Blake is introduced to Foster, played by Robert Beatty off of Doctor Who and the Tenth Planet. Foster, who is incidentally the only character who doesn’t sound as though he’s been to RADA, delivers an awful amount of exposition before getting killed. It seems that four years ago Blake’s relatives, who he believes to be sending him videos from the planet Ziegler Five, a thinly veiled Siberian gulag, were in fact executed four years ago after his own trial. The authorities have ensured that he no longer remembers leading a big rebellion before being caught and subjected to psychiatric treatment- this reminds me very much of the similar practices in Brezhnev’s Soviet Union, contemporary in 1978, in which dissidents were put into mental hospitals and officially said to be insane. And Blake’s show trial is awfully reminiscent of Stalin’s purges of the 1930s. These echoes are fascinating; I think they stand for a hell of a lot more than just the fact this was made during the Cold War. I tend to think of early Blake’s 7 as a prime example of the dystopian British sci-fi of the post-war decades, with J.G. Ballard and 2000 AD also being examples, along with Orwell, obviously. It’s as though this country’s wartime experiences of Nazism, of never being invaded but of Nazi controlled territory being visible from the south coast and of constant fear of invasion, led to a fear of Nazi tyranny which remained a fear of the unknown, a fear untempered by real experience. There’s a particular British paranoia and fascination with totalitarianism which transfers to Communism after 1945. Terry Nation’s Doctor Who scripts are also full of this sort of thing.

Oh, and on the subject of Nation, we have a character called Dev Tarrant. That’ll be our first Terry Nation cliché for this series, then. I’ll be maintaining a tally sheet, just as with his Doctor Who stuff.

One of the most effective parts of this episode is immediately after the rebels are all massacred, having just tried to peacefully surrender. We hear several seconds of silence as Blake looks upon their corpses, bringing home to us the shock of the moment and the cruel, arbitrary power of an unaccountable State. Blake is then quickly arrested, and experiences, er, flashbacks of the flashbacks we’ve already seen. This is powerful stuff. Nation can’t do dialogue, perhaps, or characterisation with any depth, but he sure as hell can do ideas. The scene between Blake and the shrink, who makes it clear that it is the all-powerful State, and not the individual, that defines “reality”, is deeply affecting television.

And the State’s solution to Blake is the most appalling example of this; Blake is presented with trumped-up charges of sexually abusing children and packed off to some gulag in an outer-space Siberia. Worst of all, the children have been implanted with false yet vivid memories, meaning the authorities are in effect child rapists themselves. Horrifying, and not a subject you would ever see on television in such a way now. Still, it’s odd, here and later, that Blake is not treated by others as a “nonce”; he acknowledges himself that mud sticks. I assume the charges are not widely believed.

The courtroom scene is interesting in that two sealed packages of evidence are weighed by computer- very totalitarian indeed. Blake is, of course, convicted, and arrives in a cell where we quickly meet a thief called Vila and an ice maiden called Jenna. Jenna, interestingly, soon thaws under Blake’s charms and confesses to him that she feels scared, hinting at the potentially very unpleasant fate of a woman living among male criminals and at the mercy of male prison officers.

We have an interestingly long strand in which Blake’s defence lawyer, a decent chap, and his equally nice girlfriend, become convinced of Blake’s evidence and slowly uncover the truth, including a scene with an amusingly low-tech computer which needs a bloke to operate it for some reason. As soon as they discover too much, they are “disappeared” by an uncaring and all-powerful State. For Blake, on his way to Cygnus Alpha, what hope can there possibly be?

Doctor Who: The Tenth Planet

Part One

"I don't like your tone, sir."

"And I don't like your face. Or your hair."


So, the "tenth" planet? But of course, Pluto was still canon back then...

We open with some stock footage, and some astoundingly advanced IT. The TARDIS doesn't land for a while, and instead we get some contemporary(ish) scientists and some naturalistic acting. However "traditional" an opening this may seem in hindsight, watching it in the marathon it's really quite jarringly new. There are some very effective nods to realism, not least of which is the girlie pics on one man's locker. The series has changed completely over the last season or so; this is a Troughton story in all but lead actor, and in hindsight the best arbitrary cut-off point is not the change in lead actor but the arrival of multi-episode story titles with The Savages.

More new and exciting sensory impressions: it's a very international group of humans, with a lot of American characters. The snow's clearly paper, but it's good enough. And then, finally, the TARDIS lands.

Ben and Polly have landed in 1986, only 20 years after their own time- surely this is close enough to be dangerous? They could easily get themselves in a position to do a Biff Tannen once they get back to 1966... Speaking of Biff Tannen, this seems to be scripted and shot very much like a Hollywood sci-fi movie, with the unstable commander, maverick scientist and general style.

Ooh! Our first taste of the Cyber theme, and it makes the hairs stand up on the back of me neck! These Cybermen look great. Oh, and I love what they've done with the closing titles.

Part Two

"Have you no heart?"

"No. That is one of the weaknesses that we have removed."


Hmm, how shall I put it? These disguises the Cybermen have adopted are... not entirely convincing, are they? Although their entrance is great; Derek Martinus having an outbreak of superbness plus a great look equals perfection. I can't emphasise enough how great these Cybermen are. Even their voices are fab, and we're talking Roy Skelton here.

Yes, of course... Mondas is an ancient name for Earth! I'm sure we'd all heard that before, hadn't we? It's very nice of this Cyberman to provide us with all this exposition; apparently him and his mates have been to "the edge of space". Who'd have thought it? Still, this is a great scene, and there's an interesting line in the light of more recent stories: after Polly accuses the Cybermen of being just robots their leader retorts: "Our brains are just like yours except that certain weaknesses have been removed"- pretty close to the new series. Well, apart from the human hands, that is...

This story manages to be extremely tense with the lurking physical presence of the Cybermen giving enough of a sense of threat that they don't have to actually do much. One Cybermen bending Ben's gun is enough to establish how hard they are. And their calmness, and casual dismissal of the horrible fate of the astronauts, are chilling. Of course, it's best not to analyse the backstory too hard even at this early stage, but this is great.

I like the guilt Ben feels after killing a Cybermen, emphasising their humanity. Naturally, the flip side of this is the presence of the threat of Cyber-conversion in a way it never would be again in the classic series- or, indeed, the remaining episodes of this story. The ongoing debate over feelings between Polly and the lead Cybermen is brilliant. I like the chattiness of these early Cybermen!

The cliffhanger is loads of Cyberships. Bet we'll never see that one again...

Part Three

"I don't understand it. He just seems to be worn out."


Almost the first thing we see is the Doctor, clearly played by a stand-in, collapsing, and Hartnell isn't even in his penultimate episode. It seems his health was indeed bad by this point. It's also clear that has absence only became clear at a relatively late stage; Ben obviously has most of the Doctor's lines. Polly gets a line which is... interesting, mind: "Well I could make some coffee or something."

Interestingly, the small group of Cybermen has now been defeated, yet tension is still ever-present: the real core of this story is human conflict, with the Cybermen mainly acting as catalysts, leaving the excellent Robert Beattie's General Cutler to be the real threat. In fact, he's the central character of this story, and this is perhaps the finest performance from a guest artist so far. Mind you, when the Cybermen arrive things are inevitably going to ratchet up even more.

What a cliffhanger!

Part Four (Ooh!)


"This body of mine is wearing a bit thin."


Hmmm... this BBC recon is all right, but it's not as good as Loose Cannon. But at least the Doctor's back for his final bow. And once the Cybermen kill Cutler the emphasis shifts: they can stop being rubbish and start being the threat. It must be said, though, fantastic though these Cybermen may look, sound and move, their plan's a bit rubbish. Still, we know we're in trouble when one turns up in Geneva. Incidentally, I like the way they have names.

Ben's very clever here, in fact the hero of the episode. His plan with the radiation is quite inspired. And when he tells Krang (what a pretty name!) that they'll wait for Mondas to start frying, the metal man starts getting a bit, well... emotional.

Hartnell hasn't really done a lot all episode, but you've felt his presence, and his final scenes are so very powerful. I'll miss him. I've just watched all his stories and, well, he was my Doctor.


Overall, great, and I don't care about the blatant plot holes. This story reminds me of RTD: yes, the plot may be a bit dodgy in places, but the emotional beats are in the right places and there's loads of pace. And this story gave us so much iconic stuff, not all of it obvious.