Doctor Who: The Green Death Special Edition DVD review

Though “The Green Death” wasn’t the end of the Jon Pertwee/Barry Letts era of Doctor Who, it was most definitely an end. An entire story was crafted around the wing spreading, falling in love, and exit of Katy Manning’s Jo Grant, and it hung its heart so slavishly on its sleeve that even though it wasn’t the first time the show had done something of this ilk (Susan in “The Dalek Invasion of Earth”), it sure felt like it. While “The Green Death” may not be the pinnacle of the Pertwee era, surely it’s in his Top Five stories, and as such is more than deserving of some double-dip, special edition love, of which there’s plenty to be found on this two-disc set.

With Jo Grant leading the charge, the Doctor and UNIT head to the Welsh coal mining village of Llanfairfach, where a miner has died in an accident – his dead body glowing bright green. The nearby Global Chemicals plead ignorance while promising a rich, oil-driven future for planet Earth. But dashing Professor Clifford Jones (Stewart Bevan, Manning’s real life beau at the time) and his band of hippie genius followers have plenty to say on all matters global, chemical and fungal. Meanwhile, something else is stirring below the planet’s surface – something more horrific than anyone is even aware, and behind the scenes at Global Chemicals, there’s the mysterious, possibly maniacal BOSS…

Affectionately known by many as “the one with the maggots,” “The Green Death” is so much more than that – though the fact that it’s known as such does speak to how creepily brought to life the nasty critters are. Aside from being a smashing, character-driven love story, “The Green Death” is also an ecological wake up call and a taking to task of the corporate mentality – aspects of it that, while occasionally dated from an execution standpoint, remain as timely as ever in this Monsanto/Koch Brothers-driven climate of fear and paranoia. More so than any other of the series, the Barry Letts era often ruminated on important issues and issued corporate indictments while telling its thrilling action adventure stories, and I’m not sure that any of them conveyed such messages as eloquently as “The Green Death.” Much cinematic sci-fi of the early seventies (Soylent Green, Silent Running) went down similar roads, so it’s entirely fitting that Doctor Who was doing the same.

Does it have minuses? Sure. There are numerous instances of terrible CSO work – stuff that to my eyes could easily have been avoided, but then I’m no expert on the ins and outs of this serial’s production schedule. The flying critters that the maggots morph into in episode six are not terribly convincing. The actor (Tony Adams) playing the rather prominent role of Elgin fell sick somewhere after recording episode four, leaving the production in a lurch. They were forced to create a new character for episode five to take his place, giving Elgin an unfinished story arc, and emphasis placed on a different character we’ve nothing invested in.

Katy Manning and Stewart Bevan

But none of those things even come close to taking away from the heartfelt story of a young girl who once upon a time met a brilliant scientist that whisked her away to distant worlds – a young girl who eventually grew up and fell for another brilliant scientist that offered to take her on a whole new set of adventures, including marriage - all while her mentor slips away quietly into the night. Yes, Jo Grant grew up, and so did Doctor Who and us, right along with her. “The Green Death” is truly a “very special episode” of Doctor Who, and now it exists in a very special edition. Read on… 

DVD Extras: Everything from the previous edition – such as the commentary track with Manning, Letts and Terrance Dicks, and the faux-doc “Global Conspiracy!” starring the increasingly ubiquitous Mark Gatiss – have been ported over. A new, proper making-of entitled (of course) “The One With the Maggots” is a loving look back, featuring all manner of cast and crew. A short bit entitled “Wales Today” consists of some silent location footage from “The Green Death,” as well as a news report about Pertwee returning to the location in Wales 20 years later. “What Katy Did Next” is a brief news report on her leaving the show, as well as a clip from an arts and crafts program she hosted after leaving Who called Serendipity. Another installment of “Doctor Forever!” focuses entirely on the attempts of Russell T. Davies and then BBC Controller of Drama Jane Tranter to bring Doctor Who back from the dead, as seen through their eyes. A fascinating story this one is. You’ll be amazed the revival got off the ground at all, given the sheer amount of negativity that surrounded them.

Death of the Doctor

Speaking of Davies – all hail RTD! Not only are both episodes of the Season Four Sarah Jane Adventures story “Death of the Doctor,” guest starring Matt Smith & Katy Manning and written by RTD, on here, but RTD and Manning recorded commentary tracks for both – as well as for “The Green Death” episode six! So, yes, for nearly 90 minutes you get to listen to the pair of them gab, and the love and emotion and the stories and the utterly riotous laughter they share are all just so bloody infectious; it’s well worth the upgrade for these three tracks alone. And, yes, there’s plenty of talk about Elisabeth Sladen. Might want to keep a box of tissues handy…“Death of the Doctor” is an outstanding post-script to the story of Jo Grant, and its inclusion here is not only appreciated, but perhaps also warranted.

Richard Franklin and Jon Pertwee - you gotta see this!

Further, there are more new commentary tracks on episodes three, four and five of “The Green Death” featuring Richard Franklin (Mike Yates), actress Mitzi McKenzie (who plays Nancy), and visual effects designer Colin Mapson, all moderated by Toby Hadoke, who clearly at this point has one of the coolest jobs on the planet. There are also Radio Times listings in PDF form, a slighty longer photo gallery, and a coming soon trailer for next month’s release of “The Ice Warriors.”

The BBC's Alice in Wonderland (1986) & Alice Through the Looking Glass (1973) DVD reviews

The Rued Morgue has love for the most famous works of Lewis Carroll, but it wasn’t that love specifically that led to the desire to check out and review these two recent DVD releases from the BBC. Unsurprisingly, both programs have Doctor Who connections, and both I’ve known about for years, but have never seen. Kudos to the BBC folks who dug deep into the archives and unearthed these rarities for public consumption. A few years ago I reviewed another BBC TV version of Alice in Wonderland (1966) – a version that was a drastic departure in terms of presentation from what we’ve come to expect from the classic story. This version? Not so much. Not at all, really. Indeed, it is extremely faithful to Carroll’s work, and nearly all of the dialogue (including a number of songs) seems to have been lifted directly from the original text, and it covers most of the book. Having suffered through the plastic Tim Burton movie, Carroll scholars will surely find this a worthy adaptation based on the dialogue alone.

Titled Alice in Wonderland, the episodes are dated 1985, but according to IMDB, it started airing on the BBC the first week of 1986. It was produced by Terrance Dicks and dramatized and directed by Barry Letts, and like a classic Who serial, is presented over four episodes, each running nearly 30 minutes. In addition to the behind the scenes contributions of Messrs. Dicks and Letts, this production features some other noteworthy Who alumni: Elisabeth Sladen as the Dormouse, her husband Brian Miller (“Snakedance”) as the Gryphon, Roy Skelton as the Mock Turtle, and Michael “Davros” Wisher as a pretty sinister Cheshire Cat; all four appear under heavy makeup and are barely recognizable. However, heavy doesn’t necessarily equate to great, and these creatures are often not much more convincing than the sort of thing you’d see at a professional children’s theatre (the production often feels like theatre). Having said that, many of the anthropomorphized creatures bear striking resemblances to the illustrations drawn by Sir John Tenniel to accompany Carroll’s original text, so in a sense, the effects, makeup and costuming strive to be true to the original work as well.  

This is a low budget video affair, produced on more of a shoestring than even Doctor Who (which was on its infamous mid-80s hiatus at the time this was made). The production is loaded with Letts’ notorious CSO, which, alongside some basic set work, is used to achieve Wonderland. The BBC version of the technique had been honed considerably by ’86 (versus when Letts when using it on Who during the early ‘70s), so it doesn’t look bad, per se, but it is a matter of getting used to the surreal-but-often-flat atmosphere. Who’s to say what Alice’s imagination dreamed up?

What sold me on this Alice was the dawning realization that Letts and Dicks are seemingly paying homage of sorts to the 1939 film version of The Wizard of Oz. The styles used to achieve the two productions are similar, even though they’re separated by decades and tools. Today, the painted backgrounds used to frequently bring Oz to life would be unthinkable, as would these flat CSO backgrounds – but the end results aren’t terribly different if you analyze them sans prejudice. We (hopefully) make allowances for Oz when we watch it today because it’s an understood classic, and forgive that it’s a product of its time, just as this Alice is of its time, and just as importantly, its place: BBC TV.

Other similarities? The use of songs, the previously mentioned anthropomorphized creatures (ala the Cowardly Lion), as well as the casting of an older actress to play the lead role (Kate Dorning’s Alice is at least 16 here). They even begin each episode with a prologue set in reality (Carroll weaves the tales to his niece and her friends) and colored in sepia tone! Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying or even implying this is anywhere near the same level of artistry as Oz. It doesn’t have the same energy or vision. Nobody’s ever going to call it a classic – it’s far too restricted by its TV origins. But I can picture Terrance Dicks and Barry Letts, when putting this production together, using Oz as a jumping off point - or for inspiration, if you like, and at the end of the day being reasonably pleased by the results, given what they had to work with.

The second program is Alice Through the Looking Glass, which, while indeed based on Carroll’s second Alice book, is not a sequel to the previous production. Dramatized and directed by James MacTaggart, it was shown on Christmas Day in 1973 as a single 74 minute show, and stars Sarah Sutton (Nyssa of ‘80s Doctor Who fame) - who was 11 when it was shot - as the title figure. Having said all of that, it still makes a fine sequel to the previously discussed production, as the techniques are similar, right down to the dodgy (but lovable) CSO. Though I didn’t necessarily get the same kind of Oz vibe from this one, its adherence to both the text and the illustrations of its source material is clear. It’s also got a somewhat more high profile cast (in terms of British TV royalty, anyway) with Brenda Bruce, Judy Parfitt and Geoffrey Bayldon all playing sizable parts. However the standout performance must surely be that of Freddie Jones (Dune, The Elephant Man) as Humpty Dumpty, who does amazing things with just his face and voice. Sutton acquits herself nicely as well, and her Alice has a bit more spunk than Nyssa was ever allowed to.

Both discs are bares bones with no extras whatsoever, aside from optional English subtitles. While both programs present frequently disturbing visions that no doubt haunted the children of their respective days, it seems unlikely that kids weaned on the production values and dramatic pacing of today would find much to appreciate here. No, from today’s vantage point, this is fare for adults who can appreciate the conditions under which these shows were created, or people who just want to soak up as many screen versions of Carroll’s literature as possible. Now, BBC, how about releasing Barry Letts' dramatization of Gulliver in Lilliput from 1982?

Doctor Who: The Ark in Space Special Edition DVD review

“The Reign of Terror” was an ideal DVD release to kick off the 50^th Anniversary year of Doctor Who – a tale unseen by many a fan, finally available on a platform for mass consumption. (By the way, the Morgue “Reign” DVD review has been updated with some new info, so you might want to peek at that entry again.) While the release schedule isn’t exactly slowing down, it won’t be until June that we get a DVD of a previously unreleased story (Jon Pertwee’s “The Mind of Evil”). Such stories are dwindling as we near the end of the DVD range, but that had to happen sooner or later. Though it might not seem like it sometimes, there actually is a finite amount of classic Who in the world.

So until June you can either save some money, or you can double-dip, and there’s no better place to start that double-dipping than with the special edition of “The Ark in Space,” the revolutionary second story of Tom Baker’s tenure that firmly declared a new direction for the series. One of the unexpected results of these special editions is that they occasionally force me to reconsider tales that weren’t among my favorites in the first place. Not that I’ve ever had a beef with “The Ark in Space,” but in the past it’s often felt dwarfed by so much of what came after. A new DVD brings a new attitude, and here I found myself really rather in love with the whole affair.

The Doctor (Baker), Sarah Jane Smith (Elisabeth Sladen), and Harry Sullivan (Ian Marter) have left the present behind and are now travelling a cosmos of the distant future. The TARDIS takes them to a seemingly dead space station – however, the “ark” holds the final remnants of the human race, in stasis, ready to reclaim the Earth and begin again. The humans begin to awaken. Leaders Vira (Wendy Williams) and Noah (Kenton Moore) are first, and both are baffled by the station’s system failures. While the humans have slept, an alien nasty called the Wirrn (pronounced “we’re in”) has infiltrated the ark, intent on piggybacking upon millions of years of human progress, at the cost of the future of the human race.

Make no mistake, “Robot” was great fun, and a worthy enough jumping-off point for the new Doctor, but it clearly had one foot in the previous Pertwee/Letts era, with its Earthbound, UNIT-driven setting. Elements of its plot even harken back to the previous season’s tales “Invasion of the Dinosaurs” and “Planet of the Spiders.” Baker’s Doctor felt as though he was itching to leave all that familiarity behind, and go out in search of the unknown, which is precisely what happens in “Ark,” and why thematically it is the real beginning of the Fourth Doctor’s era.

“The Ark in Space” has frequently been compared to Ridley Scott’s Alien. This is clearly a somewhat dodgy proposition, and if one wants to look for similarities, expectations must be kept thoroughly in check for first time viewers. Alien is, after all, the granddaddy of modern sci-fi horror, and “The Ark in Space” is a 1975 BBC TV serial produced on a shoestring budget. That being said, the parallels are there, and when “Ark” was unveiled, it had been some years since Doctor Who had aimed to scare the piss out of the little ones. The serial went even further, by attempting to chill adult viewers as well. Look beyond the green colored bubble wrap and the static look of the Wirrn, and there is indeed something horrific going on, provided you use just a little bit of imagination, as this is also a tale of Cronenbergian body horror done for a family audience.

One of the tale’s obvious triumphs is the rather marvelous set design of the space station by Roger Murray-Leach. The sets were in fact so elaborate (by Who standards, anyway) that they were used twice in the season; later on “Revenge of the Cybermen” portrayed the same station, only set in a much different time period.  On this viewing, however, I was particularly taken by the sound design of “The Ark in Space.” There’s a heavy, all-encompassing eerie, moody vibe (the hum of the station immediately sets the tone), much of which is no doubt the work of Dick Mills, but due credit must also be given to Dudley Simpson’s exceptional score. This is a serial that’s as much fun to hear as it is to watch.

Though the performances are pretty tight across the board, it’s worth finishing up with a little talk of Baker’s work here specifically. Never before had the series presented a Doctor who was so thoroughly alien. Baker’s got a bizarre sense of hard wonder about him here. His is a totally original performance, and not always entirely likable. His Doctor would of course soften over time, but right here at the beginning, what Baker’s doing is a particularly unusual sight to behold. After five years of the far more comforting Jon Pertwee, what must regular viewers have thought of this rogue space traveler upon viewing this serial in ’75? He wasn’t a grandfather you could look up to and believe in, but more of a mad uncle with a wild stare - a visage that keeps you up at night when the lights are out. Baker’s Doctor at this stage was very possibly as unsettling as the creatures he battled. Yes, Doctor Who was in for some changes, and “The Ark in Space” was only the beginning.

"Homo sapiens! What an inventive, invincible species! It's only been a few million years since they crawled up out of the mud and learned to walk. Puny, defenseless bipeds. They've survived flood, famine and plague. They've survived cosmic wars and holocausts. And now, here they are, out among the stars, waiting to begin a new life. Ready to outsit eternity. They're indomitable...indomitable."

DVD Extras: A few items have not made the crossover from the original release of “The Ark in Space.” The “Who’s Who” feature is missing, as it always is on the special editions, so not a big problem there. Also gone is a location report from Wookey Hole, featuring an interview with Tom Baker during production of “Revenge of the Cybermen.” This has since been presented on the “Revenge” DVD (which is really where it belongs), so again, not a massive omission. Gone for good, however, are the Howard Da Silva intros. If you’re a fan of these – and some of you are – then you’ll likely want to hang onto your old DVD. The commentary track with Baker, Sladen, and producer Philip Hinchcliffe has of course been ported over, along with everything else from the original disc, including the alternate CGI sequences, though in order to activate these, you must go to the second screen of the Disc One main menu.

New to Disc One of this two-disc special edition is a fine 30-minute talking heads and clips making of doc entitled “A New Frontier,” which includes gab from Hinchcliffe, director Rodney Bennett, Murray-Leach, and guest stars Williams and Moore, as well as Nicholas Briggs, who talks about the excited shock of watching the serial as a kid. There’s also a new and improved photo gallery.

Disc Two, which features the bulk of the material new to the set, offers up a 70-minute movie version of the serial, also broadcast in ’75. This is the sort of thing that’s possibly of interest to someone who viewed it upon broadcast, but when the complete version exists a mere disc away, it’s unlikely to be something one will get much use out of (your mileage, of course, may vary). Another great documentary entitled “Doctor Forever! Love and War” is an absorbing look back at the Doctor Who book ranges that emerged during the period the show was off the air. Including perspective from Russell T Davies, Mark Gatiss, and Paul Cornell among others, this is a delightful piece, sure to entertain and inform those who read those books, and even those mostly oblivious to their existence. “Scene Around Six” is some lovely footage of Tom Baker surrounded by fans of various ages that runs around seven and a half minutes. Additionally, there’s a minute of 8mm location footage from “Robot,” and a trailer for the special edition of “The Aztecs.” Finally, there’s a bit of a PDF bonanza: Not only do we get the usual Radio Times listings, but there are materials for two different crossover ad campaigns – one for Nestle’s chocolate and another for Crosse and Blackwell baked beans(!). As if that’s not enough, the entirety of the Doctor Who Technical Manual is presented here. If you’re sort of old like me, then that’s sort of exciting.

Doctor Who: Death to the Daleks DVD review

Back when I got into Doctor Who, around ’84 or so, its seemingly vast universe was entirely new to me: Over 20 years worth of a series that I now had the opportunity to immerse myself in. Needless to say, I dove right in and through Sunday night screenings on PBS, Target novelizations, and an assortment of reference books, I got pretty caught up over the next few years, and most of that trivia I carry with me to this day. During this time I was completely in awe and maybe even a little jealous of anyone who’d been watching the show since it started in ’63. Or even 1970. Pick a year that’s far enough away from ’84 so as to command some respect. For these people, in my mind, surely Doctor Who was not merely a show, but a way of life, for they had seen the passage of two decades reflected in this wonderful, imaginative TV series.

Fast forward to today, and close to another 30 years have passed, on top of the aforementioned 20. Doctor Who will be celebrating its 50^th birthday in 2013, and the show is picking up rabid new viewers all the time. There are people for whom Matt Smith is their first Doctor – people who after discovering him, go back and see the Eccleston and Tennant episodes for the first time, and maybe, if they’re really taken by the concept, they go even further back into the show’s history and look at Tom Baker or Jon Pertwee. To those folks, might I now be one of those people I envied and was jealous of? I’ve got this whole history with Doctor Who, and have been following it through some frequently turbulent times, all the way up to the massively successful beast it is today. But I use the word “might,” because I don’t know if there’s the same kind of respect for the show’s history today that maybe there was 30 years ago.

There’s such a surplus of genre material on TV available to fans these days (certainly far more than in '84), and as such there’s always something newer and cooler right around the corner. Sitting in this tiny corner of the internet, I write about some of the more obscure aspects of what’s currently the most popular sci-fi TV series on the air. Does anybody really care about all this history? The answer is, of course, yes. The Rued Morgue has its regular readers, and plenty of folks actively searching for specific classic Doctor Who DVD reviews end up on this blog as well. What’s bothersome to me personally is that I know that most fans of the new series are content with just the new series, and in between seasons, they’re not seeking out these classic adventures that form the basis for the series today. So whether you’re relatively new to the Whoniverse, and you’re here reading about classic Who for the first time, or have been getting into the classics for a while now, I’d just like to say good on you for your appreciation of and/or interest in everything that came before. These classic tales are the backbone of Doctor Who, and the upcoming 50th anniversary won’t be something that happened overnight.

Now all of that said, I couldn’t have written a more elaborate, reverential intro for a more mediocre classic series entry. It’s easy to take Daleks for granted when you’re a fan of this show, as they’ve always been there. (Some may not even know there was a period during pre-production of the new series when the estate of Dalek creator Terry Nation looked as though it wasn’t going to allow the Doctor’s most infamous foes to be used - a potential development that seems unthinkable and impossible at this point.) At this stage of the classic series, the production team was whipping out Dalek stories right and left. The previous two seasons had featured “Day of the Daleks” and “Planet of the Daleks,” while the season following this one would unveil “Genesis of the Daleks.” All three of those are reasonably good to excellent tales, and so it falls upon “Death to the Daleks,” from Jon Pertwee’s final season, to be the weakest of this unofficial early to mid-‘70s quadrilogy. After giving this DVD two full viewings, I’ll at least give the serial (and Nation, who wrote it) some credit for trying to add a couple twists to the Daleks…even though those twists end up not terribly exciting.

The Doctor (Pertwee) plans to take Sarah Jane (Elisabeth Sladen) on holiday to the planet Florana, where the water is effervescent, so swimmers just sort of automatically float. The TARDIS ends up elsewhere – the planet Exxilon, which is about as far from a holiday planet as one could imagine. It’s a dirty, muddy hole with an ancient, impenetrable city at its center. Making matters worse, the city drains the power of anything and everything in the surrounding area, so the TARDIS runs out of power entirely. This is one of those rare instances where the Doctor is actually forced into having a dangerous adventure.

Exxilons on the planet Exxilon

Outside the TARDIS is the indigenous Exxilon population – grunting, cloaked waxen-faced figures - who attack first and ask no questions later. Also present are a group of humans (the Marine Space Corps), and hot on their heels, a group of Daleks. Both groups are searching for a rare mineral called Parrinium, which exists in abundance on Exxilon, and is the cure for a space plague that’s running rampant and laying waste to both species. Like the TARDIS, the Daleks find that their power has been drained, and so their energy-based weaponry no longer functions, and they are forced into an uneasy alliance with the humans. One thing’s for certain – nobody is going anywhere as long as the ancient Exxilon city continues exerting its force over all the parties involved.

(l-r) Pertwee, Duncan Lamont, Joy Harrison, Julian Fox

On paper, “Death to the Daleks” doesn’t sound all that bad, but there’s something of a disconnect between script and screen here. It lacks the necessary “oomph,” I think, and the first two episodes in particular move like dripping molasses. It’s the sort of pacing one expects from and will typically excuse in a Pertwee-era six-parter, but in a four-parter like this one, it’s a bit indefensible. The human characters are all terribly stock, and their attitude toward their mission lacks any kind of urgency. Duncan Lamont’s portrayal of the pivotal character Galloway, in particular, is exactly what’s wrong with this serial; the guy’s just sleepwalking through this script, collecting a paycheck. The crippled Daleks retrofit their weaponry with standard, bullet-based hardware, which sounds potentially much more exciting than it actually is; director Michael E. Briant never makes the most of what he has to work with, and instead the whole production feels as if it’s just “getting by.”   

The Doctor and Bellal

In the third episode, the story introduces the character of Bellal (Arnold Yarrow), an underground dwelling Exxilon that doesn’t share his surface-dwelling relatives’ beliefs or subpar intellect; aside from the regulars, Bellal’s the most interesting character in the serial, but that may only be because there’s no real competition in the interesting character department. The Doctor’s trip into the Exxilon city with Bellal manages to kick the entire affair up a notch or two, although much of what happens on their journey was bested in other, later classic Who tales such as “Pyramids of Mars,” “The Hand of Fear,” and even “The Five Doctors.” Yeah, that’s kind of the rub here: There’s little that “Death to the Daleks” does that the show didn’t do better somewhere else, although actress Joy Harrison can’t be found in any other serial, and she is quite the looker; enough so that even the Doctor seems more interested in protecting and comforting her than Sarah Jane...yet as a member of the Marine Space Corps, one wonders why she needs protecting by or comfort from a man who appears to be twice her age, dressed in a frilly shirt and a smoking jacket. (Clearly there are loads of women in the Whoniverse working through their daddy issues via the Doctor.)

Last, and far from least, “Death to the Daleks” features quite possibly the worst Who score of the ‘70s. Written by Carey Blyton (who’d previously done the oddball score for “The Silurians”) and performed by the London Saxophone Quartet(!?), this thing is just one step above “Wha-wha-whaaaaaa…,” sad-sack type music. Not real sure where Dudley Simpson was, but man oh man this serial could’ve used his magic, as Blyton was clearly the wrong person to add musical menace to the Daleks.

DVD Extras: Since most of the key figures involved in the making of this serial have since passed on, that leaves a rather oddball assortment of folks to fill out the commentary track: Actor Julian Fox (who is so enthusiastic about his work in this serial, it seems the highlight of his career), Dalek operator Cy Town, director Michael E. Briant, assistant floor manager Richard Leyland, costume designer L. Rowland Warne, and special sounds creator Dick Mills, all moderated by Toby Hadoke. If only they’d have found the janitor for this serial, my commentary dreams would be complete!

Go on. Have a chuckle.

The making-of, entitled “Beneath the City of the Exxilons,” is at its most engaging when Nicholas Briggs is speaking. It seems that he’s the world’s biggest “Death to the Daleks” fan, and, admittedly, through his enthusiasm, it’s easier to see the good in this serial, so by all means, don’t take my word as gospel. Sometimes all it takes to elevate the opinion of a dodgy classic Who story is one incredibly passionate fan, and that’s exactly what Briggs does here. Likewise, Fox appears here as well, and his cheery outlook on all things “Death” continues, but I was most stoked to see Arnold “Bellal” Yarrow interviewed, if for no other reason than because his character was such a highlight of an otherwise lackluster tale.

23 minutes worth of behind the scenes studio footage from this story is quite the cool addition. Even to someone who’s not a fan of the story, this was perhaps the bonus highlight of this disc. Also present is another entry in the “Doctor Who Stories” series, this time called “Dalek Men,” which features interviews with Dalek operators John Scott Martin and Nicholas Evans from 2003. “On the Set of Doctor Who and the Daleks” features some rare, behind the scenes footage of the first Cushing film. Finally, there’s the photo gallery, the production notes subtitle option, Radio Times Listings in PDF form, an isolated score(!), and a coming soon trailer for “The Krotons,” which was released on the same day as this disc.

Doctor Who: The Seeds of Death, Resurrection of the Daleks, and Carnival of Monsters Special Edition DVD reviews

David Tennant hosts "Come in Number Five"

Back in March I did a big piece on the three classic Doctor Who Special Edition DVD sets released that month, and outlined my feelings about the SEs in general. April saw the debut of another such set, “Carnival of Monsters,” and now June sees two more, with “Resurrection of the Daleks” and “The Seeds of Death.” Together, these three titles made up the “Revisitations 2” box set in the U.K. Unlike previous double dips such as “The Caves of Androzani,” “The Robots of Death,” or even “The Three Doctors” (which, despite being a story of dubious quality, is clearly worthy of its own SE on principle alone), these tales are, simply put, not nearly as “classic.”

“The Seeds of Death” is the least successful of the trio, and I say that as a diehard Patrick Troughton fan. I’d even go so far as to say that it’s the worst of the surviving stories of his era (yes, I’d rather watch “The Dominators” than “The Seeds of Death,” but only by a slim margin). This is a six-parter featuring one of the series’ big bads, The Ice Warriors, and the viewer will feel every minute of it. It likely would’ve worked better at four episodes, and yet even that wouldn’t have helped the uninspired guest cast/characters and the often times shockingly naïve script. On the plus side, “Seeds” does offer a mildly interesting look at a potential Earth future, where the planet is completely dependent on a technology called T-Mat, which is basically teleportation. The Ice Warriors cripple the Earth by hijacking the tech from the moon, where exists the T-Mat relay station. Much wackiness ensues (well, not really).  Since the breakdown of technology is a big issue for me personally, I find at least that aspect of “Seeds” rather fascinating, though as an idea it’s hardly sustained in any kind of engaging way across six episodes.

Speaking of technological screw ups, as I understand it, a mistake was made on the original DVD release, and the film sequences of the story were VidFIREd when they shouldn’t have been, hence part of the reason for the SE. As you can see from the screengrabs at the right, the differences in quality between the two releases is imperceptible (to my eyes anyway). Perhaps the SE film sequences are a tad brighter? Beyond that, the primary extras have been ported over from the original release, although “The Last Dalek” featurette has, for obvious reasons, been moved over to the “Resurrection of the Daleks” SE, and the New Zealand censor clips from “The Web of Fear” and “The Wheel in Space” have been removed as they exist on the “Lost in Time” box set (as does “The Last Dalek,” actually).

While there is no new commentary track, original to this SE is a 30-minute doc entitled “Lords of the Red Planet,” which the DVD cover claims is a history of the Ice Warriors. While it does contain some fascinating info on the origins of their creation, that’s not quite how I’d describe it, as it’s basically just a making of “Seeds.” Also new is a very short bit with director Michael Ferguson called “Monster Masterclass” and a neat interview featurette titled “Monsters Who Came Back for More!,” with Nicholas Briggs and Peter Ware discussing many of the monsters who made return appearances over the years, as well as the ones they’d like to see return on the new series. Lastly, there are Radio Times listings in PDF form and a coming soon trailer for “Death to the Daleks,” which comes out next month. While these few new extras are fun, “The Seeds of Death” SE remains difficult to recommend to folks who own the previous edition, and equally to those who’ve never even owned it at all.

1984’s “Resurrection of the Daleks,” from Peter Davison’s final season, I’m torn over, and even this new DVD hasn’t helped me to nail down my feelings on it, though to clear up any confusion beforehand, it is a quality story on most levels. A cameo in “The Five Doctors” aside, this was the first appearance of the Daleks in the series since 1979’s “Destiny of the Daleks,” and this more or less picks up where that one left off. From a production standpoint, this thing is the tits: Excellent location shooting, tight direction, above par effects work, and even some pretty good studio work. Terry Molloy plays Davros for the first time, successfully reinventing the character for the ‘80s, and he and Peter Davison are surrounded by a sprawling, believable guest cast.

The problem with “Resurrection” is that it’s so damn bleak and without any wit or humor (though there is one scene with Davros that gives me the giggles, yet I’m unsure if that was the intention). It supposedly has the highest onscreen body count of any Doctor Who story, but the violence itself isn’t really the issue. It’s the tone of the whole thing, which just feels so un-Who-like; this is more like Blake’s 7 (specifically the final episode of that show). Now, I’ve got nothing against bringing on the darkness from time to time, and Davison’s final season as well as Colin Baker’s first are frequently loaded with grittiness, but there’s something about the balance in this particular story that simply feels off; it’s just too much. Obviously, your mileage may vary. Also, this is Tegan’s (Janet Fielding) final story, and though she has a beautiful and heartrending exit scene, she’s given barely anything to do in the 90 minutes prior to it. It just kills me that Janet Fielding didn’t get a better send-off, as Turlough (Mark Strickson) did in “Planet of Fire,” which immediately follows this tale.

One big reason “Resurrection of the Daleks” was given a double dip is because when it was originally broadcast on the BBC, it was shown as two, 45-minute episodes, even though it wasn’t produced to be shown as such. Disc One of this set for the first time on home video presents it as it aired in ‘84. The 2002 DVD release (as well as the VHS release before it) presented it as four, 23-minute episodes, which is duplicated here on Disc Two. So now you can “have it your way,” although ultimately it doesn’t make a huge difference which way you watch it, to my mind. Aside from the “Who’s Who” text feature, all the extras from the 2002 disc have been ported over, in addition to all the new features.

A new commentary track can be found on Disc One, featuring Terry Molloy, writer and script editor Eric Saward, visual effects designer Peter Wragg, and moderated by Nicholas Pegg. It’s a dry affair, but very informative nonetheless. The star attraction here should be the nearly hour-long documentary entitled “Come in Number Five,” a retrospective of the Davison era, hosted by Davison’s son-in-law, David Tennant (though Tennant hadn’t yet married Georgia when this was recorded); “should” be because I was pretty let down by this doc that I’d been looking forward to seeing since it came out in the U.K. over a year ago. One of the most refreshing aspects of the classic Who DVDs is that the participants in the bonus features are very often brutally candid about their times on the show and the quality of the stories. Like I said, this is refreshing when so many DVD bonus features of TV shows and movies exclusively showcase talent from both in front of and behind the camera insisting that everyone and everything is brilliant. That gets old.

Unfortunately, the reverse of that attitude can also be the enemy of the classic Who DVD range, as is the case here. I wanted a pleasant, nostalgic look back at Davison’s three years on the show – an era which I, and most hardcore fans, consider to be of generally high quality. Instead, this doc amounts to little more than a one-hour bitchfest about how many things went wrong, and how John Nathan-Turner fucked things up right and left – an attitude I can do without, thank you very much, especially since he’s no longer with us to defend himself. I think there must be a ten minute exchange devoted to what a bad idea it was to create a companion that was supposed to kill the Doctor, and how the idea ruined Season 20, when most fans will agree that it wasn’t necessarily a bad idea, and it didn’t actually ruin Season 20. (For further commentary on this issue, check out the DVD review of “The Black Guardian Trilogy.”) None of this is Tennant’s fault, mind you. I’m sure his linking bits - which tonally are more along the lines of what I expected from this - were recorded after all of these interviews were done. If I’d seen this doc without ever having seen the Davison era, I probably wouldn’t be interested in ever checking out his Doctor, such is the excessive negativity here.

On the flip side of this is a lovely 30-minute piece called “Casting Far and Wide,” featuring Toby Hadoke interviewing five guest actors from “Resurrection” about their careers, with varying reactions and answers. It doesn’t always have a whole lot to do with Doctor Who, but it’s a nice, warm piece nonetheless. While I’m at it, let me just say that Toby Hadoke is the best thing to happen to the classic DVD range in the past year. His contributions and levels of interest and knowledge are ideally suited to exploring this series. Kudos to you, sir, if you are out there reading. “Tomorrow’s Times – The Fifth Doctor” is another entry in the ongoing exploration of the press reaction to the show. There’s also a short bit called “Walrus” with a woman and a Dalek, Radio Times listings in PDF form, as previously mentioned, “The Last Dalek” featurette, and the coming soon trailer for “Death to the Daleks.”

Finally we come to “Carnival of Monsters,” which is arguably the best of these stories, even if it’s something of an odd duck. Written by Robert Holmes with a generous amount of charm, and directed by Barry Letts with an equal amount of flair, “Carnival” is a story that’s grown on me over the years, particularly through this new edition. Part social commentary and part adventure, this was the Third Doctor’s (Jon Pertwee) first adventure after having had his ability to pilot the TARDIS restored by the Time Lords at the close of “The Three Doctors.” It appears the TARDIS has landed on a cargo ship in the 1920’s, though the Doctor is certain that can’t be the case. Meanwhile, on a distant, alien planet with class system issues, a couple of carnies have arrived with their money-making gimmick known as the Miniscope, through which spectators can view all manner of alien life.

“Carnival of Monsters” isn’t as obviously exceptional as so many other Robert Holmes scripts, but it’s still a very entertaining one. Its most memorable monsters, the Drashigs, are a great example of a one-off Doctor Who creature, and the story is just so unlike anything else from this era of the show. It seems that the aim of “Carnival” was to do something different with the series than what it had been doing for the previous three seasons. It’s ambitious, maybe sometimes even to a fault, and it seems like the sort of script you’d read about in some Who reference book as having been “ultimately passed on” because it “didn’t quite fit the show.” But it wasn’t, and it did.

Lis Sladen thinking about her old co-star and friend Ian Marter

Seems all the bonus features from the 2003 DVD have been ported over in some form or fashion. The extended and deleted footage has been replaced by an additional longer edit of Episode Two, which also features that oddball, alternate arrangement of the theme tune which was a separate extra on the old disc. New to this SE is a commentary track featuring actors Peter Halliday, Cheryl Hall and Jenny McCracken, as well as special sounds creator Brian Hodgson. While “Destroy All Monsters!” is a lovely new making of, the standout extra may be “On Target with Ian Marter,” which explores the late actor’s contributions to the Target book range, as well as the man himself. Nicholas Courtney, Tom Baker and Elisabeth Sladen (amongst a couple others) all chime in with their feelings about Ian Marter, but it’s Sladen’s emotions and choice of words that really move. When she talks of him passing at such a young age, she nearly breaks down into tears. This is made all the more poignant by her own passing at too young of an age last year. It’s anyone’s guess what was going through her mind during that interview, but the results are haunting and heartbreaking. 

Ian Marter pre-Harry Sullivan

There’s also a featurette entitled “The A-Z of Gadgets and Gizmos” that’s title is pretty self-explanatory, and another called “Mary Celeste,” in which experts discuss various historical disappearances of ships and the like. Finally, there are Radio Times listings in PDF form, and a coming soon trailer for “Nightmare of Eden,” which was released last month.

Doctor Who: The Android Invasion

If you’ve followed my classic Doctor Who ramblings over the years, you’ll know that I make no secret of my intense feelings for the Philip Hinchcliffe-produced and Robert Holmes-script edited era, particularly the latter two seasons, which more or less amount to the greatest straight run of stories the series ever produced. But the time has finally come to address the “more or less” part, which basically adds up to the “The Android Invasion” – a fly in the Hinchcliffe/Holmes ointment.

The Doctor (Tom Baker) and Sarah Jane (Elisabeth Sladen) arrive in a quiet English village, which Sarah recognizes as Devesham, as she’d been there for a story a couple years earlier, involving the nearby Space Defence Station and missing astronaut Guy Crayford (Milton Johns). But Devesham is too quiet. The town seems deserted, and when the time travelling duo finally spies a person – a UNIT soldier – he’s freaking out and committing suicide by jumping over the side of a cliff. Upon inspecting the body, they find his pockets full of freshly minted coins all from the same year, and clearly all is not what it seems. A race known as the Kraals has a devious, if not entirely original plan for an invasion of Earth.

For the uninitiated I won’t delve into story details much further, because the mid-story twist might sort of work for some people, even if I find it to be largely unengaging. No points will be awarded for guessing that the Kraal invasion involves androids, and the title of the serial is somewhat emblematic of its bigger problems: the whole thing just seems rather ordinary, or it descends into a sort of tedium as it moves along, anyway. Episode One is actually rather nice, being an exploration of the oft-talked about “spooky English village” concept, but things start quickly falling apart in the second episode, and it’s as if the more you find out, the less you care to know.

The Kraals

Part of the problem stems from the villains, the Kraals, who don’t look all that bad until they have to move around and/or talk, at which time it becomes a little too apparent that they are men in rubber masks. Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t feel like such generic aliens otherwise – these guys are about as middle of the road as Doctor Who gets, leaving the viewer filled with neither wonder nor disgust. Much the same can be said for Milton Johns’ Crayford, the wayward astronaut - a character in dire need of character.

Perhaps most lackluster of all is the whole android doppelganger thing (“Who’s the real Doctor?” or “Who’s the real Sarah?”), which is a thoroughly played out and well worn sci-fi trope, even if it was used as recently as the latest series in the Ganger two-parter. I guess for some people this gimmick still works, but I can go the rest of my pop culture-imbibing life without seeing any more of these types of stories. It’s also the final story for both Sgt. Benton (John Levene) and Harry Sullivan (Ian Marter) and neither character ever gets to even remotely shine. Granted, nobody really knew these guys wouldn’t be back, but it’s something of a shame that they didn’t have better moments to exit on.     

“The Android Invasion” was written by Terry Nation and directed by Barry Letts, and it’s difficult to not point fingers in their directions, although if we’re being honest, Hinchcliffe and Holmes surely deserve some scolding as well. Nation wrote some great Doctor Who stories over the years – all of which featured the Daleks. He could write the hell out of the Daleks, but I’m not sure he was necessarily a great Doctor Who writer, and there is a difference. He only ever wrote two non-Dalek stories for the show – this one, and “The Keys of Marinus” way back in the first season. The end result of both would seem to back up that notion. Barry Letts probably deserves the least amount of criticism, as he seems to do a fair job given the script he was working with, but there’s no denying the series had moved forward considerably since he left his post as producer, and the new vision of the show was considerably different from his era. This story, in fact, would have been very much at home in a later Pertwee season, and it probably would’ve come off feeling less intrusive and more of a success.

Tom Baker signs autographs on location

I’ve probably been too hard on “The Android Invasion.” It feels a little bit like kicking a puppy around. It is by no means bad Doctor Who, as much as it is very average for this series. It’s a story bookended by excellent fare like “Pyramids of Mars” and “The Brain of Morbius,” so it’s difficult to not take it to task for its failures when so much of what surrounds it was breaking down barriers and challenging and redefining what the show could be. There’s no question that regardless of these criticisms, the story still has that same great chemistry between Baker and Sladen – apparently nothing can dim that light – and if a story has that, it most definitely has something worth checking out.

DVD Extras: The commentary features Milton Johns, Martin Friend (Styggron, the lead Kraal), Hinchcliffe, and Marion McDougal, who was a production assistant on this story. There’s a somewhat apologetic making of doc entitled “The Village That Came to Life” that runs for 30 minutes. The piece goes back to the village that the story was shot in, and interviews some folks who were there back in the 70s, which is pretty cool. “Life After Who – Philip Hinchcliffe,” hosted by his daughter, is another 30-minute piece that’s title is pretty self-explanatory. There’s a Weetabix commercial, which may be the coolest extra on here. Also, there’s the usual photo gallery, production notes subtitle option, and Radio Times listings in PDF form, as well as bunches of Weetabix promo stuff that’s more loads of fun. Finally, there’s a coming soon trailer for “The Sensorites,” which comes out next month.

Doctor Who: Invasion of the Dinosaurs DVD review

In recent times, there seems to be a vague movement of sorts to reappraise “Invasion of the Dinosaurs” by not judging it on its technical merits, but rather on everything else. Fair enough, and this should be the case with many a classic Doctor Who story. But there’s also something about having the word “dinosaurs” in the title of anything that leads to preconceived notions of what you’re in for, and the dinosaurs is this story are quite possibly some of, if not the worst prehistoric beasties ever barely created for television. Never mind adults of today, it is in fact difficult to imagine the British children of ’74, weaned on a steady diet of bad CSO and maggots made from condoms, being at all convinced that what they were viewing on their screens was anything other than shoddy puppetry.

While there are loads of other aspects of this serial to admire, it’s tough to watch it without frequently feeling let down. A different title might’ve helped; “Operation Golden Age”? Or maybe just “Timescoop,” which was its original title. Either of those might have alleviated the heavy expectation that comes along with the title as is. Obviously, CGI didn’t exist in 1974, so it’s not a matter of the effects not looking as good as they would today, but it is a matter of them paling in comparison to something like Land of the Lost, which just so happened to have kicked off its freshman season the same year this Doctor Who serial was unveiled.

The Rubber T-Rex

So the dinosaurs suck, and unlike numerous other classic Who DVDs, this edition has not been afforded an alternate CGI upgrade, so we must make do with what we’re given. What else is there? Well, the apologists aren’t just whistling Dixie. “Invasion of the Dinosaurs” is – tiny giant lizards notwithstanding – a tight, imaginative sci-fi pseudo mystery/sociopolitical commentary that unfolds wonderfully from one episode to the next. It had been well over 20 years since I’d last viewed it, so my memories going in were fuzzy to say the least. It almost felt like I was viewing it for the first time, and in the case of Episode One, I was. More on that later...

The Doctor (Jon Pertwee) and Sarah Jane Smith (Elisabeth Sladen) have returned from the Middle Ages only to find London deserted, save for the occasional looter, the military, and all manner of prehistoric creatures. It’s surmised by the Doctor that the dinosaurs are merely an excuse to force people to flee London (which, appropriately, is sort of what has happened over the years with viewers and this story) so that a greater evil can be carried out. It’s a bold, whacked plan called Operation Golden Age, rooted in some of the worst current sensibilities of both the Republican and Democratic parties here in the States, and perpetrated by scientists, politicians and the military.

One of these things is not like the others

Only the Doctor and his trusty colleagues at UNIT can save the day…wait a minute! Not so fast. Maybe his friends at UNIT aren’t so trustworthy after all? Yes, it’s true – one of our heroes has turned, and there’s a traitor in the midst, as is revealed in Part Two. (I won’t name the character, but anyone who checked out “Planet of the Spiders” last year will go, “Ahhhhh…now I see!”) If I had any major criticism of the story itself, it’d be that the reveal should’ve been held for later on in the tale, making the betrayal all the more heinous.

Another interesting tidbit: the final solution to the story’s predicament is some serious Russell T Davies 101. The bad guy shenanigans are halted due to some weird Time Lord power the Doctor possesses, which goes completely unexplained. Pertwee stops just short of saying “I’ll explain later.” Now if this was in a Davies or a Moffat script, I’d admittedly be all up in arms and crying foul, yet it’s just such a thoroughly unusual moment for this period that it must be given some due. Though it wasn’t the first time the series used a bit of Time Lord hocus pocus, it was certainly one of the most obvious instances up to this point.

The mysterious Malcolm Hulke turns in another fine script, mired in his strong political feelings, as he’d done numerous times before (i.e. “The Silurians,” “Frontier in Space,” and “Colony in Space”). I say mysterious because I think I’ve only ever seen that one photo of him, and since he passed away so long ago, all we really have to judge the man on is his work and the words of Terrance Dicks, who often seems to have an amusing “Mac” anecdote handy. Here, Dicks talks about some of the dissatisfaction Hulke felt over titling the first episode simply “Invasion,” which was decided upon at rather the last minute, in order to preserve the surprise of the dinosaurs, even though the Radio Times spoiled it anyway. This was not only Hulke’s final contribution to Doctor Who, it was very nearly the last thing he wrote for television, ever (IMDB gives him a co-writing credit on one episode of Crossroads later on in the same year).

The direction from Paddy Russell is a step or two above efficient (it’s not her fault the dinos look ridiculous; those effects were farmed out), and most impressive are the performances she pulls from the guest cast, which are of a higher standard than the norm. Most noteworthy are: John Bennett as General Finch, who would return to the series a few seasons later in a role for which he’d end up far more notoriously known, Li H’Sen Chang in “The Talons of Weng-Chiang”; Noel Johnson as Charles Grover, who apparently played some famous radio character in the UK decades ago, but I know him best as the mad pub landlord of the Crow and Crown in Withnail and I; and Peter Miles, who would in the next season play Nyder, the majordomo for Davros in “Genesis of the Daleks.”

Returning to the matter of the aforementioned Episode One, which up until this DVD, has been available to the public only in black and white for the last 30 some odd years, and that’s assuming it was available at all. (When I saw “Invasion of the Dinosaurs” back in the ‘80s on PBS, it was in the movie-length omnibus edition that omitted the first episode entirely!) Like all those missing Hartnell and Troughton episodes, “Invasion” (as the episode is simply titled) was wiped. For years the reason given for the wiping was that it was thought to be an episode of the Troughton story “The Invasion,” but here the extras reveal that wasn’t the case, and in fact orders were inexplicably given to wipe all six episodes of “Invasion of the Dinosaurs” (maybe after viewing the puppets, it was thought to be an issue of quality control?), but for some unexplained reason only the first episode suffered this fate. However, like most of the wiped Pertwee episodes, a black and white 16mm film print existed.

Screen Grab from the "color" Episode One

A couple years ago the process of color recovery was unveiled to the world of Doctor Who DVD with outstanding results via “Planet of the Daleks” Episode Three. This process was attempted once again on “Invasion,” however the results were decidedly lacking, and so both the attempted version (with what I guess is some extra colorization) and the black and white episode are presented here, with the disc defaulting to the black and white version. And that last point is unfortunate, too, because I really didn’t find the color version to be all that offensive. It’s by no means as good as the Dalek entry, but to me it looks like a colorized film, from back when the process was unveiled in the ‘80s - splotchy and imperfect, but not unwatchable. Oh, it would be if this material was shot to be presented in black and white, but that isn’t the case. That said, having viewed both black and white and imperfect color, I'll be watching the color version on future viewings. Given that much of the episode features empty London exteriors, it just comes off looking like a drab English afternoon. So it’s a minor shame that the viewer must activate the color episode from the Special Features menu, given that it comes much closer to giving a rounded viewing experience than the black and white version can ever hope to.

Useless Trivia: “Invasion of the Dinosaurs” features the debut of the Whomobile in Episode Four.

DVD Extras: In addition to the option to watch the first episode in color, Disc One features a lively rotating commentary track, moderated by Toby Hadoke, who in turns (and different combinations) gabs with Richard Franklin (Capt. Mike Yates), Peter Miles, Terence Wilton (Mark), designer Richard Morris, Terrance Dicks and Paddy Russell. Also on the first disc is a trailer for “The Sensorites,” which will be released next month, as well as the usual Production Notes Subtitle option, which has gotten quite a bit of press, as via this feature on this disc, it’s for the first time been revealed the name of the actress originally cast as Sarah Jane Smith.

Disc Two features a great half hour making of entitled “People, Power, and Puppetry,” a “Now and Then” featurette on the locations, a vintage clip of Jon Pertwee in the Whomobile on something called Billy Smart’s Circus, four minutes of deleted/extended scenes, and a featurette entitled “Doctor Who Stories: Elisabeth Sladen Part One,” in which Lis talks about each of her five stories from the Pertwee era. (I’m guessing that Part Two will appear on the eventual “Terror of the Zygons” DVD, since it’s the only Sarah Jane story from the Baker era that hasn’t been released…but that’s mere supposition.) Also present is an extra 10 minutes of John Levene (Sgt. Benton) commentary over Episode Five, and the usual photo gallery and Radio Times listings in PDF form.