Saturday 5 September 2015

63: The Mutants

Before Watching

Another Bristol Boys story, unless I’m very much mistaken. I’m tempted to write a ‘before watching’ here on the one minute principle again, but then I don’t think I can add a lot more than ‘mutating giant insects’ off the top of my head. As a mutant myself, I think that I owe them a little more thought. Oh, the mutant thing. Well, I say that I’m a mutant – it may well be that this is not technically true, in which case please don’t tell me and thus shatter my illusions. I was born with an extra rib, what’s called a cervical rib, which is like a bone spur which sticks out between your neck and your shoulder. It somehow got crushed down on top of the vein or artery, and it gave me blood clots, which meant I could have died, came very close to losing my left arm, and I had to have it surgically removed, along with the blood clots. 3 weeks in hospital thank you very much. Nevertheless, as I say, I am a mutant myself, and as such feel that I should treat this story with a little more gravity than usual. The problem is, I have little or no memory of it. I did remember reading once that someone commented that the Andrew Smith story “Full Circle” from season 18 was similar in some concepts, and that one I do remember, so it will be very interesting to see how true that actually is.

After Watching

The Bristol boys scored a qualified success with their first story “The Claws of Axos”, and so having successfully achieved the slightly easier task of writing a decent four parter, now we see their first attempt at a 6 parter, the 6 parter being the most common format for seasons 8 through 11. It’s maybe illuminating to remind ourselves of the overall verdict that we formed on the previous story. “Claws of Axos” was a story with some interesting and original ideas, which were not necessarily perfectly realised on screen, but nonetheless made an enjoyable whole, even if it wasn’t the best story of the whole season. Now, good ideas can be spread a bit further in a four parter without diluting the whole than they can in a 6 parter: in a six parter you need drama, and you need characters. They don’t necessarily have to be totally believable, but they have to be interesting, and they have to be consistent within themselves.

I don’t know if the opening scene was a conscious homage to the opening of each episode of the original TV series of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, but surely it must have struck someone in the production office that when the story opens with a ragged, long haired, extravagantly bearded old fellow staggering towards the camera, thousands of voices of viewers would shout in unison “IT’S !” Honestly, if you’re old enough to be familiar with the original Monty Python TV series I defy you to watch the opening scene and deny the similarity. This is just there to introduce us to the world of Solos, which is one of the two main locations of the story, the other being a space station in orbit above it, Skybase.

The Doctor receives a package from the Time Lords. He doesn’t know for whom it is intended, but it’s fairly obvious that the TARDIS will take him to the intended recipient. He warns Jo off accompanying him in a way in which he must have known would encourage her to jump in the TARDIS after him, and away they go. The package the Doctor receives is rather odd looking, a bit like a football which has had unmatched pieces of black pottery stuck all over its surface. The TARDIS materialises on board Skybase, where the Administrator, played by Geoffrey Palmer, is about to announce to a group of Solonian natives that they are about to be granted their independence from the Earth Empire. Now, what do we remember about empires? That’s right – Federations-good, Empires – Bad. The Marshal, that is the military commander, doesn’t like the idea of Independence, and arranges for one of the natives to assassinate the Administrator.

Right, here’s an odd thing. In this and the previous season, when a story is set on Earth it’s the military in the person of the Brigadier and UNIT, or Captain Hart and the Royal Navy, who are the Doctor’s natural allies, and while they may be misguided they are clearly on the side of the forces of what is right. It’s the government representatives who are either stupid, or evil, or both. In a story set in Space, it’s the military commanders, as in this story, or the quasi military such as Dent in “Colony in Space”, who are evil and/or stupid, while the government representatives, such as The Investigator in this story are seen as decent and impartial. Just an observation. The Marshal is played by Paul Whitsun-Jones, last seen as the Squire in “The Smugglers”. He is thoroughly evil, and totally consistent in his portrayal, but for my taste the Marshal is just too one dimensional to sustain a six parter. I’ll try to explain.

When you threaten someone with death , or death to their loved ones, and they still double cross you, it should be ample evidence that they can never be trusted by you, and if you are that sort of person who needs to make that kind of threat, then you should kill them now. The Marshal never gets to this point, and the story could be 8, 10, or heaven help us 12 parts, and he still never would. Which means he is basically unbelievable, and the story suffers as a result. Enjoy his villainy in the first two or three episodes by all means, but I can almost guarantee you’ll be sick of it before episode 6.

The Earth’s Empire is collapsing, and Earth is withdrawing from its outlying provinces in the way that Rome withdrew from Britannia in the early 5th century. As it is, Solos has an atmosphere which is poisonous to human beings, albeit only in the daytime. Don’t ask. The native inhabitants of Solos look humanoid, at least they start off looking humanoid, although lately they have developed a rather disconcerting habit of mutating into giant insects. Maybe Gregor Samsa was a Solonian! (Not wishing to  insult anyone’s intelligence, but in case you haven’t read it, Gregor Samsa was the first person protagonist of Franz Kafka’s story “Metamorphosis” in which he woke one morning from troubled dreams to discover that he had become a giant insect. Read it. You won’t regret it.) The Marshal’s plan is to have Jaeger, his pet scientist, find a way to convert the Solonian atmosphere to make it breathable to humans, at the same time as doing it in a way which annihilates the mutants, enabling him to take it over as his own private fiefdom.

While we’re talking about this, Jaeger is played by George Pravda. You may recall him in a more sympathetic role in “The Enemy of the World”. As I said in the previous volume, on Patrick Troughtons’ stories, I shall always think of him as the Castellan in my favourite story “The Deadly Assassin”. Again, as does Paul Whitsun-Jones, George Pravda plays what he is given very well and with utter conviction – I wouldn’t expect anything different, but I would have liked again just a little more depth in the conception of the character. Does he just once or twice feel a twinge about what he is doing? I don’t know – and I should know. He should be feeling this, because he’s not barking mad enough not to.

So into this melting pot come the Doctor and Jo. As he so often does, the Doctor poses as an official from Earth, much to everyone’s suspicion. After the assassination the Marshal declares martial law, and all hell breaks loose. As he’s running away and trying to escape, Ky, leader of the outcast people going through the mutations, touches the Doctor’s package (ooh, Matron) as he’s running past, and it begins to open. “Jo!” bellows the Doctor, “follow that hippy!”, or words to that effect, and Jo, being Jo, obliges implicitly, and the two of them escape to the surface via transporter booth. The Doctor meanwhile sticks around long enough to convince two guards, Stubbs and Cotton, that the Marshal is not to be trusted. Right, a word about these two. It’s nice to see that at least two of the quasi military types on offer here are human beings rather than unthinking meatheads. It’s even nicer to see that one of them, Cotton, is black, and he’s not subordinate to Stubbs. Alright, it’s not a command position, but nonetheless it is a positive role for a black actor for a change, the first since good old Rudolph Walker’s cameo in “The War Games”. Which makes it all the more galling when I have to say that Rick James, who plays Cotton, er. . . well, he just isn’t very good. I’m really sorry if anyone thinks that this is a racist comment – believe me it’s not meant to be. I try to be fair to everyone, but there have been times in the first two volumes when I’ve had to criticise what I think are not very good acting performances, and I’m sorry to say it, but I think that this is one of them. He’s trying, but that’s the point. You notice he’s trying. You notice that he’s acting, and the moment you actually notice that someone is ‘acting’ then they’re not acting very well. Sorry Rick.

Eventually The Doctor, Cotton and Stubbs make it down into the caverns on Solos, where Jo and Ky are also hiding. The Marshal, who has overheard Stubbs and Cotton talking with the Doctor, uses poisoned gas to try to kill them and the mutants, and plastic explosive to blow up the entrance. Our heroes are saved by a mysterious figure in a silver radiation suit. This it turns out is Professor Sondergaard. We know this because the Doctor greets him with “Professor Sondergaard I presume.” Huh? Why does he presume that? Was there some info dump, some bit of exposition which mentioned him before that I missed? Actually there might well have been. The dialogue in this story isn’t what you’d ever call sparkling, and I did find myself tuning out more than once. Here’s an interesting thing too. The professor, who’s obviously a goody and an ally for the Doctor, has a German accent. On British TV for much of the 20th century, a German accent was shorthand for ‘evil megalomaniac’. Much like a British accent in a 1990s Hollywood blockbuster. Ky has opened his package, and found some old tablets containing a message in old Solonian symbols nobody can understand. The Doctor and Sondergaard work out that they are actually explaining that the climate of Solos has 4 seasons, each of which lasts 2000 years. The mutations happening to the Solonians are part of a natural process. They leave for Skybase, but on the way the Doctor goes into a cavern of radiation and retrieves a magic stone which he will later realise will help him to help Ky complete the radiation cycle. Yes, there is a sort of scientific explanation given, but when you boil it right down, this is a magic stone without which our heroes cannot complete their quest.

There is a problem now. This is only episode 4. By rights the whole thing could be wrapped up very quickly now, and certainly shouldn’t take more than one more episode, tops. But there’s still two to go. Hence the introduction of the Investigator from Earth (his guards are in white so you know that they are all decent chaps) who finds for, then against, then for, then against the Marshal. There’s more than one imprisonment and escape, and one of these is a frankly ridiculous escape from a radiation chamber by Jo, Ky and Cotton. Typically for this story, they get imprisoned in this chamber a second time. Yes, it was the Marshal who came up with the idea of imprisoning them in the same place they’d already escaped from once before. At last, at last Ky gets to complete his mutation. Remember how I called him a hippy earlier? Well, I wasn’t actually joking much, because now that’s what he becomes, a floating superbeing, dressed in robes of fluctuating psychedelic colours, who frees Jo, Cotton and Sondergaards, then flies off and disintegrates the Marshal, before going off to Solos to help his people mutate into super hippies as well. Bless.

I haven’t in all honesty thought that too many of the stories since the start of season 7 have suffered drastically from being 6 or even 7 parters, but this one really was two parts too far. Had it been one of the ones chosen for a summer omnibus repeat, and edited down to 90 minutes, I think it would have worked a hell of a lot better. As it is, though, this shows that as writers of 6 parters, the Bristol Boys were pretty decent 4 parter writers.

What Have We Learned?


Somebody really needs to introduce the Time Lords to the concept of stamps and postcodes. 

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