The Day of the Triffids (1981): Part Two

 "There's nothing we can do!"

This second episode is even more brilliantly horrific than the first. We begin in the hospital, with Bill realising firstly that a patient is blind and then realising the blind doctor, such a comforting authority figure the night before, has jumped to his death.

Outside, things are no better. Looting, pretty much explicitly implied rape, the slow collapse of society. It's all made plain as Bill finds a blind couple with a sighted daughter.And the father is no fool, realising, like Hobbes, that civilisation has gone, and that life is set to become nasty, brutish and short. And his suggesxtion- that Bill stays to protect the block- has merit, I think. Bill can't save everyone. Why not save whom he can?

But Bill travels on, and finally meets posh drunkard Jo, who was saved from blindness by a hangover. There's a rule here, kids: teetotalism is bad, m'kay?

Unfortunately, we then find with full force, so are Triffids, and they've got into the house and killed Jo's father. In the kingdom of the blind, the Triffid is king. It's all out war for survival.

Except humanity, unlike Triffids, is hardly united. And is just as scary, as the cliffhanger shows...

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!

Doctor Who: Vengeance on Varos

Part One

“When did they last show anything worth watching anyway?”

Now that’s much more like it!

I’m intrigued about watching Philip Martin’s other work after seeing this again. Anyway, we begin with a topless Jason Connery chained to a wall in a nod to the ladies, and as he dodges a laser beam we see that he’s on camera. 8.28 in the Big Brother House and Jondar is dodging laser beams. How prophetic.

We cut to our fantastic Greek chorus of Arak and Etta, whose lines are all brilliant. The first words spoken are “Not him again”! I love this kind of postmodern stuff, especially when done with wit as it is here. They have the right to vote, but this is democracy without liberty, including freedom of speech as Etta makes very clear, much more akin to voting for a reality show than a government. This is grippingly contemporary and already feels like satirical science fiction at its best.

Nabil Shaban as Sil is also superb, the perfect Thatcherite villain for the ‘80s with a great look and played quite brilliantly. And his Yoda-isms I love. His opening scenes with the Governor- Martin Jarvis, also brilliant- is also gloriously satirical in its way, as we learn that the torments of political dissidents and criminals in the Punishment Dome are not only broadcast to the population but are to be sold throughout the galaxy. “Are they really disturbing, these videos you sell?” asks Sil, making explicit the “video nasty” theme said to be behind the script.

If that’s not enough great concepts already, whenever the Governor loses a vote on one of his decisions he’s immediately subjected to a burst of cellular disintegration that can kill him! Already the nightmare of the previous stories feels very different. Oh, this is dark, even cynical, but it’s done with wit and, importantly, purpose.

The Governor survives to this time, to the disappointment of Arak, who reminds me of a number of taxi drivers I’ve known. The Governor needs a crowd-pleasing policy quickly, and an underling called Bax comes up with the answer; a particularly entertaining method of execution for Jondar. “I’m sure the video of his execution would sell” he notes.

We’re introduced to Areta and her oh-so-‘80s hair, as she reveals to us the rather intriguing back-story of the planet; originally a prison colony, it is ruled by a caste descended from the original prison officers. Another brilliant concept.

Meanwhile, after intermittent scenes of moping a\bout in the TARDIS, the Doctor and Peri finally arrive on Varos, in desperate need of the Zeiton 7 it produces. Jondar’s televised execution is being televised and, wonderfully, the TARDIS materialises on camera; the scenes in the punishment dome are being watched by the entire population of Varos, who thus become identified with the viewer. “I like that one, the one in the funny clothes” notes Etta.

I think my love for this episode was finally confirmed by Peri’s line “All these corridors look the same to me” as she and the Doctor run down the exact same set they’ve already run down several times. But even better is the cliffhanger, in which the governor usurps the role of the director: “And cut it… now!”

Part Two

“We’re free!”

“Are we?”

“Yes.”

“What shall we do?”

The acid bath scene is often criticised but personally I see little wrong with it; the Doctor isn’t responsible for anyone’s death and I’m more than prepared to forgive the little quip in the circumstances.

The Doctor, Jondar, and the ex-guard whose name I didn’t catch are to be hanged, and Colin Baker excels in this scene. “Do you always get the priest parts?” he enquires of the man who is to give him the last rites, in a brilliantly witty bit of self-referentialism. Oh, and the deity being appealed to is the “Great Video”. I love this script.

The Doctor, declaring truth on Varos to be a “very flexible commodity” speaks on the gallows of Zeiton 7 and how it is in fact worth a lot more than Sil and his Galatron Corporation masters are telling the Governor. This proves rather fortunate, as it turns out the hanging was a mock execution, and the Governor is now suspicious of what Sil has been telling him.

Peri and Areta are to be transmogrified into a bird and a reptile respectively, so the Doctor and Jondar immediately seize some guns and engineer a hostage situation in order to escape. If there’s one thing this marathon has taught me, it’s that I don’t necessarily have a problem with the Doctor using firepower if it feels right, and this is one of those times.

The Chief, unfortunately, is able to engineer a coup against the Governor and insist upon a compulsory vote, which will inevitably result in his death by cellular disintegration. The Governor’s appeal to the Guard to spare Peri and himself ultimately fails, but shows he has faith in the Doctor.

The ending is neat and satisfying, with the Doctor even getting away with an atrocious pun (“I think he needs more than water, Peri, eh?”

It’s quite a relief, after the worst start of any Doctor’s tenure, to see a Colin Baker story that comes up trumps. Not one of the very best, perhaps, but easily a 5/5.

Doctor Who: Genesis of the Daleks

Part One

“We Time Lords transcended such simple mechanical devices when the universe was less than half its present size.”

The story starts in what could be a First World War trench, a good location and an atmospheric beginning, as is to be expected from the director of The War Games. A Time Lord, dressed most peculiarly and not unlike a jester, asks the Doctor to perform a task, to his strong resentment- this is an arc which has been running since The War Games, when Doctor Who was less than half its present age, and the resentment has festered. Only at the mention of the Daleks does the Doctor agree to help, although his agreement has, naturally, already been assumed.

The first episode essentially serves to introduce the TARDISeers to the situation on Skaro; a thousand year war between Kaleds and Thals, regression of technology, mutos. But this is done, in a nice fusion of Nation and Holmes, by means of peril (soldiers, a landmine) and an escape and recapture. Nyder’s introduction is very effective- Peter Miles is magnificent- and his iron cross shows us what Kaled society, or at least its scientific “elite” is like, reinforced by the line “We must keep the Kaled race pure.” If that’s not enough, we even get a young Guy Siner.

And then we get a sight of the mysterious Davros. And a Dalek…

Part Two

“No tea, Harry.”

No reprise, surprisingly. But Michael Wisher is great from the off, and the plot’s kicking off in earnest. Terry Nation is writing this, so naturally the muto following Sarah (Sevrin) turns out to be a goodie. He and Sarah are captured, and forced to work on a rocket, where they risk contracting something called “distronic toxaemia” instead of radiation for some reason. Meanwhile, we’re introduced to Ronson and his fellow dissident scientists, who are uneasy about Davros’ Dalek project. 

There’s some dodgy science on show; the Kaleds’ evolution is headed towards a “final form” apparently. Time to just smile and nod, I think. We get some more Nationisms as the Doctor and Harry trek through an underground passage marked by monsters and peril, while Sarah leads the Thals’ slaves in an escape attempt so exciting it happens on film. And what a cliffhanger.

Part Three

“Excuse me. Can you help me? I’m a spy.”

Well, it’s a disappointing resolution as Sarah just lands on a ledge, but as far as I can see there’s no re-editing as legend would have it. And it’s also disappointing that, having jumped over a chasm, Sarah and Sevrin are swiftly recaptured by a couple of sadistic Thal guards.

Harry, meanwhile, is menaced by a giant clam in a scene which has rightly assumed legendary status, but he and the Doctor eventually get to Thal dome. Now, is it me, or does it stretch credulity somewhat that, firstly, the Doctor, a non-Kaled and a non-person in a time of war, would be allowed to address the Kaleds’ ruling castle, let alone manage to convince them? Surely, from their point of view, his tale of time travel and other planets would result in at least some scepticism?

Agree they do, however, and Davros is ordered to suspend his work. Michael Wisher is outstanding in Davros’ speech to Mogran, apparently agreeing to his demands. But he is in fact ready to kill all Kaleds ouside the bunker of the elite. It’s a genuine shock to see Davros in the Thal dome betraying his own people.

Incidentally, it’s often pointed out that the Kaled and Thal domes are rather close to each other, which is said to be implausible. I’m not sure, though- both civilisations seem to consist of only one city, with the rest of the planet apparently depopulated (either that or just not taken into account by Terry Nation, of course!), so surely the fact these two city-states are at war at all would indicate they’re quite close together?

Part Four

“Thank you. That’s what I wanted to know.”

This story is great, don’t get me wrong, and I’m not going to pretend it stands a chance of getting any less than a 5/5 in spite of a few of Terry Nation’s usual foibles being there, but the tone’s a bit odd. The Kaled dome is destroyed in scenes of pure horror which touch some dark themes, and as the story progresses we’re going to see the tone darken and lots of basic moral philosophy. But all this co-exists with the usual Terry Nation Flash Gordonness and functional dialogue in a rather odd way. The story deals with some very adult themes in some places and feels very much pitched at young kids in others.

Things get even darker as Daleks turn up at the Thal dome and start shooting everyone, but at least Sarah and Harry are alive. There’s a genuine feeling of hopelessness, not least because Gharman and his fellow rebels are so wet. It couldn’t be more obvious that Nyder, who couldn’t not be sinister if he tried, is tricking him. But even the menace Nyder exudes pales in comparison to the threat posed to Harry by some motionless giant clams on the way back. The welcoming committee of Davros and Nyder (bit of a coincidence, that!) pale in comparison.

The ending is chilling, with Davros demanding the Doctor gives him the reason for every future Dalek defeat (“You will tell me!”) or he’ll inflict more pain on Sarah and Harry. But why doesn’t the Doctor just lie?

Part Five

“Yes, I would do it! That power would set me up above the gods!”

The Doctor gives Davros what seems to be unnecessarily thorough account of future Dalek defeats, although he makes a continuity blunder in claiming that The Dalek Invasion of Earth takes place in 2000. this scene takes an odd view of time travel and causality, too- surely if the future is changed once, the other defeats won’t arise in the same way because of the butterfly effect? Nevertheless, Michael Wisher is magnificent in these scenes.

Gharman shows himself to be very pacifistic, probably too pacifistic to stand a chance, particularly in a story written by Terry Nation. We can see from the start that he’s a weak character who clearly stands no chance.

It may be Gharman giving the ultimatum to Davros from an apparent position of strength, but Davros speaks and behaves as the one in control at all times, giving an impressive speech. He simply decides that the meeting is to take place in one hour and Gharman lets him. In a simple but clever piece of dialogue Davros ends the scene by saying to Gharman “You may go.” It’s obvious what Davros is planning, and that he will succeed, but there’s a horrible fascination in how he sets about doing it. This is a perfect portrayal of a high-functioning psychopath.

Part Six

“Pity? I have no understanding of the word.”

The Doctor’s dilemma, over whether to commit genocide by destroying the Dalek embryos, is a powerful moment, however unpolished the lines may be. Significantly, the Doctor doesn’t get to decide, being interrupted by Gharman- but perhaps he’s too quick to wash his hands of it, and it’s partly wishful thinking that makes him believe Gharman stands a chance. We, the viewers, know perfectly well he doesn’t, and are not at all surprised to see the Daleks exterminate all those not loyal to Davros.

Appropriately, it’s a Dalek, not the Doctor, who connects the wires and destroys the Dalek embryos, but it’s too late to avert their creation. In fact, everything about the end of this story seems fitting, with the Daleks’ final betrayal of Davros being the perfect ending. The Doctor has achieved something; blowing up the Daleks’ incubator room as apparently delayed them by “a thousand years”. But the story ends with us in no doubt of the Dalek threat.

Well, that may not be as deep as its reputation among fans would suggest- it’s a Terry Nation script, not Edge of Darkness- and it may have functional and sometimes poor dialogue at times, but it has to be an easy 5/5 in spite of everything.