Quatermass and the Pit: Episode 6- Hob

" We are the Martians."

Hmm. Quatermass and the Pit used to be my favourite of the three serials but, while still seminal and extraordinary, on this reviewing I felt it was less good that Quatermass 2 in spite of having more interesting ideas. And that's largely because of how it ends.

This final episode is one of human chaos, caused indirectly by Martian meddling in the past. This meddling causes people to be riotous and, in particular, racist as per last episode's "wild hunt" (although I still don't see how anyone could draw such specific conclusions from that footage!). It's literally gothic; an evil from  the dawn of time. It's tense. It's fast paced. It manages to avoid excusing human evil on the grounds of "the devil made me do it" by being an obvious metaphor. And yet...

Well, there's no physical threat, no baddie, just the legacy of some barely seen aliens from five million years ago. The evil has no face, not even a possessed but intelligent human, to give some immediate sense of a physical enemy. That, I think, is what's lacking. And yet what we have is nevertheless yet another televisual triumph. Although one has to raise an eyebrow at poor Miss Judd having no personality traits other than "hysterical female" and being patronised yet again. Roney's death has meaning and Quatermass' speech is sadly relevant today.

I can't just leave this there without talking about this serial's huge influence over the following two decades at least of British sci-fi, though, especially as a Doctor Who fan. Obviously both The Daemons and Image of the Fendahl are pretty blatant tributes, but there are elements too within the human perfidy of The Ambassadors of Death and the whole '70s trope of intractable military stupidity. And that's before we even get to Erich Von Daniken, Graham Hancock and assorted other idiots...

Quatermass and the Pit: Episode 5- The Wild Hunt

"We're the Martians now."

It is both a complement and an observation on how television pacing has changed over the decades that this penultimate episode is both mostly exposition and gripping. The atmosphere means that the centrepiece- the footage of the Martian “Wild Hunt”, which consists of violent ethnic cleansing- consists of charmingly dated special effects. We don’t care.

Nor do we care that this episode moves beyond the “ancient aliens” property into matters of se one sight and telekinesis, supposed by Bernard to be a Martian legacy. Likewise, we care not that Roney’s ma bone for seeing impressions of the mind’s eye is an impossibility now, let alone in 1959, and is an odd thing for a palaeontologist to have constructed. Indeed, we raise a momentary eyebrow on his Miss Judd, being female, is naturally hysterical and in need of a tot of brandy. We overlook all this, because this is bloody good telly.

I haven’t praised Andre Morell enough; he is charismatic, likeable and easily the best Quatermass so far in any medium. But I must also praise Anthony Bushell, whose continuously brilliant portrayal of the thick and arrogant Breen, the ultimate figure of official idiocy, reaches a crescendo here as thousands are put in danger by official intransigence. I can’t wait until the finale...

Quatermass and the Pit: Episode 4- The Enchanted

“You realise what you’re implying? That we owe our human condition to the intervention of insects?”

And here we have it; the ideas episode. This is where Quatermass expounds on the possibility that these alien arthropods, perhaps from a more habitable Mars of five million years ago, prefigured The War of the Worlds by attempting to somehow terraform their blue neighbour. I’m not sure what advantage they would gain by boosting the intelligence of early hominids, but it’s an arresting thought and one that has had a profound effect ever since both on science fiction and silly flying saucer conspiracy theories- I note this was more than a decade before Erich Von Daniken.

The drama is still at the forefront though as Roney rushes to preserve the remains and Quatermass grapples with the enormity of what is occurring. Further research establishes that such figures have Haunted mankind since prehistory- it is here that Bernard expounds upon the chilling idea of “race memory”. But it’s when we see the utter blind stupidity of Colonel Breen, which reaches new heights here, and how the powers that be accept his explantation above that of Bernard- evidently Michael Gove wasn’t the first person to have had enough of experts- that we return to Kneale’s ever-disapproving view of humanity. As an aside, it’s fascinating, as a Doctor Who fan, to see the obvious influence here on the work of Malcolm Hulke.

Perhaps I could venture a mild criticism in that Miss Judd, the only female character at this point, is a merely functional character, but this is brilliant telly. And it’s only at the very end, as the alien vessel does something to poor Sladdern that seems to make him a focus of poltergeist activity, that any physical danger arises- but it’s here now....

Quatermass and the Pit: Episode 3- Imps and Demons

"It's a good thing to be insured. At least it cheers you up."

After last episode’s slight wobble we’re back to the gripping and gradual unveiling of what is going on, concluding with the reveal of the insect-like alien bodies inside the capsule which have been there for “a long time”. Meanwhile we discover that the ghost stories go back many centuries and coincide with the disturbing of the ground, while “Hobbs Lane” itself is a probable reference to the Devil.

Elsewhere, James Fullalove is back and still the same stereotypical reporter. He recognises Quatermass from a photo in spite of the fact he looks nothing like he did in Quatermass 2, but then again the same could be said for Fullalove himself. Looks as though he will be hanging around for a while.

I also wonder about those strange marks on the.Captain’s and Sergeant’s hands- first inkling of a present day threat from the artifact? This is fantastic stuff, and I can think of at least two Doctor Who stories that owe an awful lot to this.

Quatermass and the Pit: Episode 2- The Ghosts

"It was a kind of figure!"

Once again Nigel Knee shows us, in an unusually slow episode that for once feels a little padded, that he takes a rather dim view of human behaviour. Yet there are interesting contradictions. Colonel Breen, while undoubtedly a fool for insisting on rushing the archaeology in order to dig up the artifact, is portrayed as a fool for neglecting to see its extra-terrestrial origins. Yes the credulousness of the tealeaves-reading types who insist on having seen ghosts thirty years earlier runs is also criticised. What is Kneale saying here? It looks as though he’s trying to have it both ways.

That isn’t the only bad tempered moment, either; even the normally likeable Quatermass snaps at Miss Judd when she tries to help. But, nevertheless, this is part of a gripping tale, of a rather slow one by itself. Not enough really happens in terms of plot, character or mood to justify the running time. Still, we are introduced to Roney’s optical encephalograph; I suspect the law of Chelhov’s gun will kick in later.

Still, the tension continues to build as more and more signs emerge that this is a five million year old spacecraft- although the skulls are indeed of terrestrial origin. This episode may be unusually slow, but the underlying plot continues to grip.

Quatermass and the Pit: Episode 1- The Halfmen

"They'll stick me alongside the Piltdown forgeries as a horrid warning!"

It's good to get back to Quatermass, that slow-building tension and that great storytelling team of Nigel Kneale and Rudolph Cartier. There are so many superb touches here, from the neat little piece of exposition by newspaper headlines to the use of vox pops. Yet these vox pops don't give a very flattering impression of people, ignorant and self-centred as they (we) are, and it doesn't take long before Kneale's bleak view of human nature shows itself.

In fact, even in one episode, Quatermass and the Pit paints a far bleaker picture of humanity than either of its predecessors. The builders who find the skull are ignorant and venal; the archaeological work of Dr Roney is at risk because of others' greed and, worse, Quatermass' beloved British Rocket Group faces a military takeover, enforced by arrogant civil servants and personified by the arrogant and very soldier-like Colonel Breen.

Quatermass is alone in a room full of Civil servants (gasp, how awful!) who are happy to rubber stamp the military takeover of plans to build bases on the Moon and Mars within seven years, which are to see the militarisation of space a generation before Reagan: a horrible "dead man's deterrent" which will avenge a nuked Britain from beyond the brain. It's a horrible perversion of science and the spirit of exploration but, in Kneale's world, that's humanity for you.

Andre Morell, following the now well-established tradition of replacing a dead predecessor as Quatermass, is superb, rather eclipsing both other actors. Cec Linder, though, is also engaging and charismatic as Dr Roney, a brash and courageous Canadian palaeontologist.

Seemingly, the bones of four previously unknown early hominids have been found, but also a strange metal object, and we're left with the thought that this sat below remains which are up to five million years old...

This is gripping telly. It's the first time I've seen it in well over a decade and I'm already excited about the next five episodes.

Quatermass II: Episode 6- The Destroyers

"This should have been a great moment..."

Mere weeks after a probe was landed on a comet it's instructive to watch this, where Quatermass and Leo make a manned flight to the aliens' comet home, one without fanfare or glory. But Nigel Kneale doesn't do fanfare or glory.

It's a fitting, tension-fuelled and deeply tragic finale, as the likeable boffin Leo meets a horrible end and the final shot is of a visibly shattered Quatermass. Still, cheer up; the great Cyril Shaps unexpectedly turns up. And it's clear that there was never a time when he looked young.

There's some hope, I suppose, in that the aliens are thwarted and those who are controlled, including Dillon, are themselves again. But the price, as always with Kneale, is high indeed. Trying landmark television.

Quatermass II: Episode 5- The Frenzy

"And we've only wiped out a single nest..."

The penultimate episode is a tension-fuelled base under siege narrative as Quatermass and the striking workers are trapped in the factory by the murderous aliens whose promises of lenient treatment are horrible broken; the scene where blood drops from the pile is horrifying. This is a lesson on how to build tension and suspense without actually showing much of the threat; television as theatre rather than cinema.

Our friends win out but, as the quote says, this is just one of many nests. And we end with the aliens in control of the Rocket Group- in the person of John Dillon. 

Quatermass II- Episode 4: The Coming

"I'm not listening to reason..."

This is, of course, the episode that climaxes with the excellent Roger Delgado as journalist Conrad, infected  by the alien has, makes a desperate and probably fruitless phone call back to the news desk before he inevitably succumbs to its effects. And we end with a glimpse at the alien, which looks absolutely nothing like a kind of proto-Nestene. Absolutely not, guv.

Before that, though, we have both Quatermass theorising on somewhat dodgy grounds that the alien consciousness comes from a moon of Saturn. He seems on firmer ground in theorising that it may be a hive mind. He's brave though, Quatermass, stopping at nothing to investigate this plant and always getting away unharmed, whatever vile fate always seems to be incurred by those whose help he enlists. He's not an entirely sympathetic character, whether you consider him as written or with the harder edge as portrayed by John Robinson. He's certainly called a lot of people fools so far. I suspect he isn't, quite, the voice of the author.

Nevertheless, this is still first class telly.

Quatermass II- Episode 3: The Food

"These questions must not be asked!"

This time round I noticed it: the father at the picnic is played by Sydney Bromley, who would (much) later play Engywook in The NeverEnding Story. Fancy that.

The plot thickens further as Bromhead is seemingly brainwashed, the picture quality unfortunately decreases (but we should be glad to have this at all), and Quatermass sneakily arranges to be let into the plant for a look. All this happens gradually, extracting maximum suspense and mystery, and allows time for Quatermass to be gloriously rude to people.

Quatermass is brave to visit the plant: it seems that most whom have visited before eventually came back... changed. The food produced seems not to be amenable to human consumption, And the domes appear to be intended to support an ammonia breathing life form in the same way as Quatermass imagined domes on the Moon. At last we have an inkling of the nature of the threat.

We end back at the lab, with asteroids approaching. Excellent, still.

Quatermass II- Episode 2: The Mark

"Dillon, there's something on your face!"

The plot thickens as Quatermass finds odd and evasive goings-on at the mysterious factory site, and Dillon is taken away without explanation. Even odder, these people have friends in high places, there are identical facilities in Brazil and the Soviet Union, and we end with Quatermass and his tenacious northern MP friend Bromhead finding that it's official representatives all have that distinctive mark.

Wilfred Brambell appears as a tramp with a strangely southern accent and a willingness to provide useful exposition. Quatermass makes a thundering speech on civil liberties- John Robinson is splendidly rude at times, and an obvious influence on Jon Pertwee's Doctor. And the meteorites, it seems, are not natural objects. The pace is slow, but this provides for atmosphere and intrigue. This is just as good as the first episode; telly of the very first rank.

Quatermass II- Episode 1: The Bolts

"Things were better when there was less government about!"

The second series of this famously pub-emptying and pioneering piece of television starts out as superbly as the first, although John Robinson, who does a good job in the circumstances, has clearly been parachuted into the part of Quatermass at the last moment. This tale of hollow alien meteorites being sent from above with nefarious purposes has been deeply influential (as we Doctor Who fans well know). Yet it obviously comes from another age, when scientists were treated with deference and the power of the benevolent State is questioned only by silly old men. Even a science fiction conspiracy theory thriller like this, in 1955, can casually have all of its heroes be public sector employees.

The early scenes with the soldiers would have had an extra resonance, too, in the days of National Service. And the flourishing and ambitious British space programme- prior to the awful disaster- reflects a very pre-Suez view of national importance.

It's a slow-paced start, full of unease and subtexts everywhere. The opening titles are, again, inspired and forward-looking. This is brilliant, first class telly.

The Quatermass Experiment: Part 2 ("Persons Reported Missing")

"Don't. Don't comfort me."

OK, confession time. When I blogged Part 1, last year, I was somehow under the impression that only the first episode existed. Oops. I now realise, having seen it, that the second episode exists too, and is awesome. And I have to admit that  it's even worse than that; I watched all of the original three Quatermass series years ago, except this episode. Oops.

Moving swiftly on, this is a fascinatingly dark episode, as you'd expect from Nigel Kneale. The main plot chugs along as we slowly discover that the surviving astronaut nay (mostly) have the body of Victor Carroon, but he also seems to contain the minds of all three.

All this is grounded in the mystery of whatever horrific thoughts Quatermass is so obviously suppressing, the conflict generated by Paul Whitaun-Jobes' tenacious journalist, Jimmy Fullalove, and most of all by the big reveal that Jusith Carroon had been having an affair and was about to leave her husband. Now she faced a future as a guilt-ridden carer to a man she doesn't love.

This is superb drama, made four years before Sputnik but giving us a believable depiction of space travel even if, being pre-Suez, it shows a superpower Britain as the pioneer. Extraordinary.

The Quatermass Experiment: Part 1 ("Contact Has Been Established")

"It's one of them things. They dropped one."

This is, sadly, one of only two episodes of this six part serial that I will be blogging; the others don't exist. They will never be found, whatever Philip Morris has been up to, as they were never telerecorded in the first place, which is a shame. Television in 1953 was a very ephemeral medium, all of it live aside from a few pre-recorded film sequences. For repeats, the actors would simply repeat their performances. You saw it once and it was gone.

1953 was a long time ago and looks it; the picture quality, naturally, is rubbish and the long scenes are there because it simply wasn't possible to include more than two or three different scenes. Television was very much theatre with a camera pointed at it. There's a scene break here where the picture fades to black and stays black for what seems like ages.

Nevertheless, this is a superb piece of television scripting and production, dripping with atmosphere, however limited the live performers may be, and a reminder of the brilliance of both Rudolph Cartier and the great Nigel Kneale. This is a world in which science is admirable and scientists great men, but only because science is a desperate and fragile attempt to impose order on a terrifying world in which dark things lurk at the edges, not least human nature. It's refreshing, though, to see the scientific talk isn't being dumbed down in any way. And this is an era, what perhaps we can call the Dan Dare era, when it was possible to imagine Britain as a space pioneer. Sputnik lay four years ahead. To people in 1953 the achievements of the British Experimental Rocket Group were scarcely imaginable.

The plot is simple enough- a rocket has been sent into space, gone missing, but has now returned under mysterious circumstances. There is much tension in this scenario, later to be lovingly ripped off by Doctor Who in The Ambassadors of Death. Only in future episodes will it become apparent that something else has come back with Caroon.

And yet, the real unpleasantness is very much on Earth. A useless civil servant busybody is there to annoy and to serve the plot function of being exposited at, while newspaper columnist Jimmy Fullalove (a very young Paul Whitsun-Jones) exhibits all the cynicism of today's red top tabloids. (And this angle, that of the press,would also come to be lovingly ripped off by Doctor Who in The Web of Fear.)

We also have some comedy working class characters and a dear old lady played by Katie Johnson of The Ladykillers fame. She is truly from another age; IMDb tells me she was born in 1878 and made her stage debut in 1894!

Sadly, as but one more episode exists, we won't get to consider the whole thing. We can only judge the first two episodes, but this at least is a brilliant episode. One more to go, though...

Nineteen Eighty-Four

“If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot, stamping on a human face, forever.”

I should probably say at the start that this is the 1954 BBC teleplay, written by Nigel Kneale, directed by Rudolph Cartier and starring Peter Cushing. It’s rather interesting to see this for the first time just one week after seeing The Year of the Sex Olympics; suddenly the debt the later play, set in a future with a diminishing vocabulary, owes to Orwell’s concept of Newspeak becomes even more blatant.

This is first class telly, though. Yes, it’s of its time, with a rather blurry picture quality (although, to be fair, the prints could really do with a good clean), and technical limitations mean that a slow pace is sort of inevitable, but this is no bad thing. The cast is superb, with Peter Cushing putting in an outstanding performance, with honourable mentions also going top Yvonne Mitchell and André Morell. It’s quite a shock, too, to see Donald Pleasance in a television role. There’s also a nice little cameo from Wilfrid Brambell.

It’s not just the picture quality that dates this; it is, after all, the earliest piece of telly I’m likely to be reviewing on this blog except, probably, for the surviving bits of The Quatermass Experiment once I get to it. The fact that it was made live (apart from the many film sequence!) isn’t really too obvious, but lots of other things are, notably the plummy accents, Mr. Cholmondely-Warner strength, which are spoken by every character who isn’t a prole. And this is a future with things like valves in it It’s rather interesting, though, to see an adaptation made just five years after George Orwell’s novel was published; the general feel of austerity (how very topical!) seems very fitting, especially as 1954 was the year that rationing finally ended. I couldn’t help also noticing that, among the many sinister notices seen in the programme is one saying “Be ready to produce identity papers”. Orwell would have been horrified at the last Government’s plan to introduce identity cards, now thankfully off the table for now in a rare wise decision from our current lords and masters.

Cartier’s sets, with ever-present posters and pictures of Big Brother, are a triumph of design, and it’s a nice touch that everyone (except, again, the proles, who wear 1950’s clothes) wears what look very much like prison uniforms, while Winston Smith’s room looks awfully like a prison cell. This is a confining, utilitarian world, devoid of all beauty and ornament. The constant televised announcements, which cannot be switched off, remind me a lot of the 15 Million Merits episode of Black Mirror.

It’s a while, certainly more than fifteen years, since I last read the novel, so the sheer levels of totalitarianism on display here come as quite a shock. Big Brother is indeed watching everyone, even language itself is being perverted so as to render “thought crime” impossible, but the scenes towards the end, with Morell’s Obrien as the torturer, are more chilling still. The line asking how many fingers are being held up (blatantly ripped off / homaged, decades later, by Star Trek: The Next Generation), and the following dialogue, make it clear that the Party claims the right to dictate reality itself; there is no empirical truth. Rather cleverly, this is all foreshadowed by Smith’s job of “adjusting” past records to fit with current political convenience.

It’s interesting, although somewhat patronising, that hope lies with the uneducated and ignorant proles, and the fact that their cultural fare is all written or composed by computer could be read all sorts of ways. Hope certainly seems to be closed up elsewhere; even Smith is not quite the pure hero, agreeing to commit all sorts of awful crimes. But the romance between him and Julia is rather sweet and lovely, but also profound. What they have is theirs alone, and it’s real. Nothing else is. And their relationship burns all the brighter for the fact that it, and they, are doomed, and they both know it.

The ending, with both Julia and Winston denouncing each other under torture, is devastating, but brainwashing was very much in the zeitgeist so soon after the Korean War. This is a first class piece of telly, whether in terms of script, directing or performances, but I think its view of the future is a little pessimistic. Totalitarian regimes always have a limited life expectancy. They always burn themselves out eventually; the world is a chaotic place, for good or ill. The future will be far more Brave New World than Nineteen Eighty-Four.