DVD: The Trial of a Time Lord
“Sagacity, I feel that the only sentence I can pass is for John Connors to sit through all 14 episodes of `Trial of a Time Lord` and experience for himself the catharsis of spurious morality so long it doesn’t trigger a ray phase shift!”
Ok then…
It’s a bit like wartime colleagues meeting again one sunny day. “I was there”, we croak, “I remember the horror….the horror” For Doctor Who fans, the mid 1980s were a fraught period when for the first time- that we knew of anyway- our beloved programme was taken off the air, possibly never to return. Oh how we wailed and moaned, dressed up as Zygons and spoke passionately on local radio. There was even a record. “Eighteen months is too long to wait” trilled assorted members of, erm, Time UK and Bucks Fizz. It was – as Paul Cornell has probably already said - our Live Aid.
Yet watching old stories nowadays should not leave commentators confined to the past however tricky it is to detach your knowledge of the circumstances in which they were made. You could easily fall into the trap of being super harsh regarding production values or overly sympathetic with the almost impossible position the show was in. So lets forget about all that and just see what we find lurking in these episodes which, canonical or not we will call by their best known monikers.
`Mysterious Planet` then differs considerably from memory; it soon becomes clear quite a lot of effort went into the staging of it. While the dialogue and direction are strong, Robert Holmes’ story isn’t too original (totems of our times being worshipped in the far future is a familiar conceit) yet there’s still enough to intrigue the viewer at first. There’s the fact that Peri thinks it’s Earth and it turns out to be, which raises the question of how it was moved and by whom, then there’s various people trying to steal the Black Light Converter from the tribe. There’s the whole revelation of the Doctor being on trial.
The dialogue is eloquently theatrical which sounds a bit odd to 2008 viewers though one of my few qualms about current Doctor Who is it’s refusal to `dumb up` when it comes to language. In the old days I learned many decent phrases or words because they popped up in the show (“serendipity” is one that springs to mind) and it’s a shame that a series ready to embrace the characters of Dickens and Shakespeare is not so willing to push the envelope beyond modern day colloquialisms. Holmes’ script here is used as an economical way of telling us something of each person; their motivations, beliefs, past; particularly with Glitz who feels like a fully formed character after only a few minutes screen time. The Doctor and Peri meanwhile have mellowed towards each other and their rapport is as mature as the old series got. Director Nick Mallett shows off the locations well; the woods are eerie and damp looking and at the village you can see how cold it is. He does what he can with the less impressive sets, though sadly the excellent Marb Station’s escalator isn’t seen that much. And as I am contractually obliged to say the opening model shot is way ahead of its time and wouldn’t look out of place in the current programme- what I had forgotten though was how good some of Dominic Glynn’s music is as well. I even like those spooky moans on the end of the new version of the title music.
Even with the trial inserts however, four parts seems overlong for what turns out to be a slight story. Having created plenty of interest early on, Holmes never cashes it in and by part 4 the story has no surprises left and is little more than a runabout. It’s notable how Colin Baker’s performance becomes less disciplined as the story progresses; he really does need the best scripts to impress. Never my favourite Doctor, Baker C suffered from being given an OTT character that gave him acting freedom he couldn’t use properly and stuck in what must be one of the most appalling costumes anyone’s ever had to wear on telly, he was onto a loser. Yet there are moments that show what he could do and you hang on to those when he’s shouting and strutting about.
In the trial sequences his Doctor is misjudged . It’s not clear who wrote this material- I suspect it was Eric Saward – but whoever it was gives the Doctor such arrogant indignation that the viewer’s sympathy is felled at the first hurdle. In fact the whole trial seems set up to navigate through cliff hangers rather than make any logical legal sense. From the gothic opening where the Doctor enters a dimly lit courtroom (how long were the Time Lords all just sitting in the dark waiting for him? Perhaps they’d been watching the Inquisitor’s holiday slides?) to the way the Valeyard keeps altering his argument the whole thing is lamentably over dramatic yet strangely un-involving. The Valeyard’s duplicity is evident with every nuanced glance on Michael Jayston’s face while the Doctor’s petty insults may have suited Jon Pertwee but surely better to have this lively Doctor well and truly sunk as matters spiral out of his control?
The best way I can think they could have handled the whole Trial concept would have been to have just started on a new story during which someone frames the Doctor for something and he runs away at the end perhaps unaware of the implications and ends up hiding in the second story at the end of which he is captured. Then the third story is the trial with all the twists and turns of a legal drama while the companion is elsewhere trying to get him out of the mess. That would leave the last 2 episodes for a dramatic confrontation with the Valeyard whose real identity and plans would threaten Gallifrey. That way you’d have a through story and a real sense of the epic. I feel I should email Benjamin Cook about this immediately!
In the end after some 90 minutes, `Mysterious Planet` doesn’t deliver despite the sterling efforts of those involved because the script is not polished enough and, yes, we all know why but then again they did theoretically have a year to polish this didn’t they?
So - to the story sometimes known as `Mindwarp` which displays a different dichotomy. Looking excellent and quite surreally alien - with an undercurrent of violence and writer Philip Martin’s trademark dark wit, this should be a classic yet it falls short for a variety of reasons. For a start it faces the same issue as `Brain of Morbius` in making little medical sense as if the scenario was dreamt up for the sake of the visuals rather than the other way round. Secondly, Martin never really explores any of the characters properly; this is evident by how little we find out about Crozier. Martin is writing in broader strokes here than he did on Varos. Also, it is not at all clear why the Doctor starts behaving erratically- it’s as if a scene has been missed out and then he’s taken out of time before it can be finished. Finally there’s the unevenness of the acting; some of the cast are terrific; Patrick Ryecart’s smug, laid back Crozier while Nabil Shaban’s Sil is always entertaining. Yet Brian Blessed, Colin Baker and sometimes Nicola Bryant are playing at panto level; big gestures, big voices and it unsettles the air that I sense was intended. Director Ron Jones struggles to contain this and after the strong opening, he fluffs the big climax with a confused, cluttered scene; surely Sil is killed by Yrcanos? What happened to Kiv’s guards? Granted the sight of shaven headed Peril and her deep voice is powerful but it could have been so much better.
As for the Trial inserts, these suffer diminishing returns, repeating the first story’s circular arguments and then undermining the story’s denouement. Plus when the Doctor learns of Peri’s death, Colin B’s acting is poorly pitched; just compare it with Christopher Eccleston’s performance towards the end of `Bad Wolf` to see how it can be done.
While hardly original the next 4 episodes – or as we used to call them `Terror of the Vervoids` - are fairly effective despite bright studio lights and some underwritten characters. It’s an old fashioned type of Doctor Who story, even for 1986, yet delivers some pleasant surprises none more so than Melanie, known as Mel. Yep, Bonnie Langford, every 80s fan’s least favourite worst nightmare, acquits herself every well in her debut appearance proving to be a welcome change from the hitherto 1980s companion stereotype of being whiny and annoying. Mel is a more mature take charge kind of character whose revelling in the challenge reminds you of Sarah Jane Smith, Rose Tyler or in her better written moments Jo Grant. Potentially she could have been as successful but this much attention was never paid to Mel again after this story. There is also a brilliant part 1 cliffhanger, monsters that may look a bit dubious but which work well and a sense of things happening which often seems missing from the first 8 episodes of this season. On the minus side Pip and Jane’s whodunit lacks the sleight of hand to be truly memorable while the Trial inserts are becoming so laboured that it is highly tempting to fast forward them.
As a conclusion to the whole story, `The Ultimate Foe` does contain most of the ingredients; certainly the production standards are the best of the season with some very well shot location work and an air of the unexpected and the bizarre. Freed from the tedium of the courtroom, the Valeyard makes a more effective villain taunting the Doctor with a threatening air that Anthony Ainley’s Master had long since lost. Part 13, written by Robert Holmes is inevitably the better, brimming with interesting dialogue and the return of Glitz. Pip and Jane’s part 14 can’t match it for wit or interest though with the need to wrap up the Trial scenario, its doubtful if any writer could have pulled something really revelatory out of the bag.
Trying to work out what did happen I came up with this: To cover up their actions on Ravolux, upon which the Doctor stumbles in `Mysterious Planet, the High Council cook up the Valeyard, a distillation of the Doctor’s evil side, promising him the remainder of the Doctor’s lives if he successfully prosecutes the Doctor in a show trial using Matrix evidence which they have altered to tilt the case against the defendant. Oh and The Master has somehow got into the Matrix and has been watching and decides to help the Doctor because he doesn’t want another crazy evil genius hanging about. Exposed for who he really is, the Valeyard high tails it into the Matrix creating a false Trial so he can still execute the Doctor and when that fails he’s got a machine that will apparently cause the catharsis of spurious morality. I know the Daily Mail would be banging on about that!
Pardon me if I missed something, but aren’t there just ocean wide flaws in this? For starters, how did the High Council create the Valeyard anyway? Secondly, did they not think that a regeneration happy villain containing all of the Doctor’s evil influences might not just be the teeniest threat to them in the future? How did The Master get into the Matrix when you’re supposed to need that key? What exactly is “the catharsis of spurious morality” and when the Doctor triggers a ray phase shift what does that mean? See, it may all make some sort of sense but it is simply wrong for a teatime drama. What sounds right to me is Robert Holmes’ original idea of the Doctor and Valeyard falling into a great big echoing void. Now if JNT so wanted a happy ending, then the Doctor could emerge from that void at the every end just after Mel and the others think he’s dead. Happy ending, hurrah!
On reflection and safe in the knowledge that Doctor Who nowadays is so much more rigorously made I suppose Trial is a watchable enough old thing; it’s certainly better than the appalling season that proceeded it (which contained some of the worst Doctor Who ever) and the one which followed. Its frustrating though to see how much time they had to plan, write and produce it and yet none of the scripts are really as good as they need to be. In the accompanying extras Eric Saward bemoans the problems of finding people who could write properly for the series but perhaps he might have been better served had he simply pondered a while longer on what he got and made them better. As it is Trial remains an erratic season not without it’s moments but in tone and approach not what was needed in 1986 to convince people what the series could do.
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BOOK: The Writer’s Tale by Russell T Davies with Benjamin Cook
You don’t just read this book, you sort of become part of it. Basically a year’s worth of often lengthy email correspondence between Doctor Who’s grand fromage and journalist Benjamin Cook it somehow entangles you to such a degree that after 500 odd pages I felt I needed to email Benjamin before doing anything. It made me like Russell less as a person, but admire him more as a writer which given the title is probably about right. So, if you’re expecting the Hooray Russell chirpily sitting in his Cardiff flat, then you’ll be disappointed, likewise if you’re hoping for a blow by blow `making of` in any traditional form. Instead what you get is infinitely better.
It is implicitly agreed early on that Benjamin will remain “Invisible Ben” an observer of rather a participant in the creative process whose function is to prod and probe Russell’s methods, means and motivations. Of course he is anything but invisible; the emails that pass between them become more and more entwined in the work itself, not so much in its fiction perhaps but certainly in its process and drive. They infect Russell’s thinking and make him consider aspects of his work- and even himself- in a way he had not before and that must have dripped through into the final results of the series. Benjamin’s questions are couched in sympathetic asides, interesting tangents and layman’s queries and thus obtain more complex complete responses than even the best one off interview would. He cajoles Russell into revealing more and more of his feelings towards writing, the tricks he uses, the relationship he has with the chaotic regime that is a Doctor Who season in full flow. Russell thus becomes brazenly open about his choices, his methods and even who he fancies to the point where after a few hundred pages the reader begins to dislike him. Benjamin meanwhile remains inscrutably aloof (we learn nothing at all about Benjamin except he goes to Glastonbury!)
One thing is how remote he seems from the actual physical mechanics of production- in fact Benjamin seems to be on set more often than Russell is. The writer meanwhile often seems trapped in his four walls, swigging coffee and sucking cigarettes till 4am, typing in adrenalin fuelled frenzy. We quickly meet the nervy, self doubting, neurotic, opinionated, bluff Russell who will teeter on the edge of emotional burnout over plot details, procrastinate spectacularly over writing the first episode of season 2 of Torchwood (and end up not writing it) and ramble on about his inadequacies. At times he reminds you of the kid who spends all his time creating an elaborate revision timetable rather than actually just revising. If he treats himself badly then his treatment of others will send devotees of customer care programs into a spin. He admits how he can sack people on a whim, how he doesn’t care about upsetting them if it’s better for the programme. There’s a wonderful/horrible bit where he is happily talking of ditching a script that Mark Gatiss has been slaving over for a year and has to be reminded to maybe contact the latter first to let him know. He agrees with a verbal shrug. Elsewhere, he gripes about the amount of re-writing he does on everyone’s scripts; early on moaning about the plaudits Paul Cornell got for `Human Nature`, conveniently forgetting the latter wrote the original book! Then much later he spends days re-writing Helen Raynor’s Sontaran story leaving this reader somewhat embarrassed that I gave her all the credit in my review in Jargon! He’s a contradiction alright; he’d probably claim credit for `Terror of the Zygons` if he thought he could and yet he works so tirelessly on the show that you’re marvelling he’s even still alive! Paradoxically his own caustic views resemble those of the internet snipers he hates so much. What are we to think?
The one thing missing is his honest view on the finished product. He’s quite willing to take pot shots at Mine All Mine (which I still think is one of the best things he’s written) yet when it comes to, say, `Voyage of the Damned` which is covered in (perhaps too much) detail we never discover what he thinks. He suddenly reverts to Hooray Russell, going on about the ratings. It does makes you wonder whether he’s had us all fooled; whether the neurotic writer is just another character that he knew would make for a better read than anything more mundane. A pity too that he spends a lot of time talking about `Partners in Crime` and much less on `Midnight`, which is a far more intriguing script.
About a third of the way through the tone changes and becomes a bit more factual with some quite detailed information about the way he chooses and develops characters, the way that scripts and budgets tie together, that sort of thing. The book’s length is partly down to the reproduction of the entire scripts for both `Voyage` and `Partners` which only the truly dedicated are likely to read properly. The intensity of the exchanges palls for the final third and things conclude with Benjamin directly influencing the show by suggesting cutting the original end of season cliffhanger where Cybermen appear in the TARDIS.
Other highlights include Russell’s superbly cynical account of attending the season 4 launch which will make some people who recognise themselves go into shock though for the rest of us it’s highly amusing. There’s an ongoing use of Skins as a counterpoint to Doctor Who as the two discover the brilliance of the former’s second season culminating in Russell sending a fannish email to Skins’ creator. We’re also taken through the early process for the 2008 Xmas Special giving us a feeling of what it’s like to see draft scripts of an episode we haven’t seen and we’re there when Steven Moffett says Yes to taking on the series , amazingly back in September last year.
The Writer’s Tale is a quixotic giant of a book, at once fascinating and infuriating. And best of all we can say what we like about it because he won’t care. Hooray!!
Back to topThe Five Doctors dvd Mar 08
This is one strange story in which the Doctors different incarnations are brought together yet kept apart till the end, Gallifrey is depicted as a pastel coloured clinic, there’s a secret room that nobody on the whole planet knows about apart from Borusa and a large moose appears to bay tunelessly across the Death Zone. You can almost hear Terrance Dicks’ typewriter cracking under the strain of holding up such an overpopulated narrative, a task that proved too much for first choice Robert Holmes. Watching now, you wonder what he might have done had he persevered; his Death Zone would surely have been packed with swamp dwelling wraiths and cowled killers. Under Dicks’ more benign stewardship it’s got a Dalek, a Yeti and, for a reason nobody explains, a troop of Cyberman. His one original creation the Raston robot is the best thing in it which makes you think. After all, a decade earlier `The Three Doctors` concentrated on keeping our heroes together and created not just a new enemy but a slice of Time Lord folklore. Here, the desire to treat proceedings more like a school reunion means that by the time everyones done their bit, there’s precious little story to tell.
The Doctors are each twinned with arbitary companions, presumably based on actor availability. William Hartnell is replaced by Richard Hurndall who does a smashing job in reminding us just how abrasive the first Doctor was at first and he’s a few delightfully eccentric mannerisms of his own too. It’s a bright and bushy tailed Peter Davison too, then the incumbent Doctor and just as Pertwee had been ten years earlier, bristling with the strengths of his characterisation. By contrast Patrick Troughton’s brittle caricature and Jon Pertwee’s phoned in performance just get in the way. In a large supporting cast, few make an impact though Anthony Ainley is on better form than you might expect, delighting in The Master’s odd arc while Lis Sladen steps back into Sarah’s improbably clothes like its 1975 again. Philip Latham does well too in a difficult role whose motivation is weak.
It quickly becomes apparent that none of it actually makes any sense. The Time Lords give The Master a transmat to go into the Zone so how come Borusa didn’t just use that to hightail it to the Tower? Does he really need four Doctors to translate a bit of old writing especially as he was teaching at the Academy when the Doctor was a student? And, being fabulously clever, wouldn’t Borusa have worked out Rassillon’s curse? There are so many questions you find yourself worrying about tiny things like who made the Raston robot’s coat hangers? Or for that matter who made the Raston robot? Or the thunderbolts? Or where the Time Lords got all these aliens from and how come they’ve survived all this time if the Death Zone is never used?
Director Peter Moffatt does what he can with such a preposterous tale, shooting frosty cold Wales enigmatically while making the best of the threadbare sets. You can see though why they have tone meetings these days; visually the story is all over the place. The point of course is that this was an anniversary story and all sense of proportion went window-wards and if you view it in that context, it’s a light enough romp with plenty to laugh at though little genuine sense of threat.
Beneath The Surface dvd Jan 08
Trouble with box sets is you sometimes get the best and worst of a programme thrown in together and `Beneath the Surface` is very much like that. You have the sublime `Silurians`, the silly (but fun) `Sea Devils` and the wearisome `Warriors of the Deep` all together like they belong. In fact, each story highlights a particular type of Doctor Who so you can make a comparison.
`The Silurians` is one of three seven part epics that comprised most of Jon Pertwee’s debut season. Yet it never seems overlong or tedious thanks to a sparkling Malcolm Hulke script that mixes forensic detail with lifelike characterisation and has a central conceit that demands the viewer adjust their preconceptions. Here, we (ie humans) are the intruders, whereas the monsters were here first. It’s a neat reversal and Hulke plays out the angles in a non judgemental way leaving us to make up our own minds. Particularly pleasing is the use of the Brigadier as someone with whom we have a lot of sympathy as he’s put upon by pompous Doctors be they the head of the research centre where all the action is or our Time Lord hero himself. The Brig’s final decision is the sort of development that should have had more significance in determining the relationship between the two characters. Despite the plethora of people with titles and ranks (almost everyone except Liz, no wonder she spends the story looking dazed) there is a laudable attempt to humanise (and Silurianise I suppose) with Major Baker’s zeal, Dr Lawrence’s increasingly shrill complaining and Dr Quin’s secrecy all gain plausible explanations. Within the Silurian ranks too, there is discord and a sense that they are more than just this week’s monsters. It’s a male dominated story of course and some of the acting threatens the scenery (in particular a hysterical going mad scene from Peter Miles) but the storytelling is satisfying and develops well while anyone baulking over the length will no doubt be pleased with a fairly large amount of location work both on the moors and, later, in London. Plus you get what must be the definitive dvd extra on this story, so well researched and presented that nobody will ever need to write about it again!
`The Sea Devils` shows how Barry Letts and Terrance Dicks altered the template they’d been given, keeping the superficial quasi realism but dumping the detail to get to the colour and the action. It’s largely an aquatic based re-tread of its predecessor with similar arguments yet lacking the same conviction, personified by there only being one talking (or whispering) Sea Devil and no argument from the others while the story’s compulsory government official is such a stereotype there is little of the debate you might expect. That said, it is a hugely enjoyable, fun sort of story packed with incident and some very well choreographed set pieces. The early scenes set on a gloomy sea fort are atmospheric and quite unsettling, the Sea Devils costumes an iconic design and the later battles appear to be aping Western shoot outs right down to ricochet noises and Sea Devils tumbling off rooftops. The cast are excellent too; Roger Delgado delivers his best, a wry performance with tongue firmly set in cheek as if he knows show silly it all is, while Clive Morton’s Trenchard is a blustery windbag that we come to quite like and Edwin Richfield’s armoury of looks and tics works as a great counterpoint to Jon Pertwee’s ruffled self importance. As for the incidental music; well you either like it or you hate it, but it suits this story to a tee.
`Warriors of the Deep` seems a superfluous revival as it has nothing new to say about our reptilian ancestors and is so boringly written and directed it seems longer than either of its predecessors. The Silurians and their cousins are portrayed like robots rather than scales and blood while the wafer thin Cold War allegory is sunk underneath a welter of clichés and over arch acting. Production wise, it has to be one of the worst, with over lit studios betraying every tatty hem and garter of a scenario that is clearly too expensive to properly mount. Never has the Doctor’s last line (“there should have been another way”) been more prescient.
Still you need this box set because it contains 13 of the best of 70s Doctor Who episodes and some intriguing extras. And, you may just appreciate the third story too, that is if you’ve just come in from the pub and need some late night telly to amuse you.
