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.”

Doctor Who: Spearhead from Space Blu-ray review

Note: If you are interested in opinions on “Spearhead from Space” as a piece of drama, you can read last year’s special edition DVD review by clicking here, as this Blu-ray review will only discuss the disc quality, new bonus features, etc.

           

Just one year ago we got a spiffy new special edition DVD of “Spearhead from Space,” and though I was quite happy with that disc, at the time I bemoaned, “If ever there was a classic Who story that begged for a Blu-ray release, it’s this one...”

Here we are a year later and my wish has been granted. As “Spearhead” is the only classic Who story shot entirely on film – 16mm – it’s ripe for 1080p presentation, and the results are more or less what you’d expect: a crisp, clear transfer (likely the same one used for the SE DVD last year) that allows the story to look sharper than ever before. What really grabs the eye – what Blu-ray is so often perfect at revealing – are the colors! I’d always thought of “Spearhead” as a relatively drab-looking story in regards to its color palette, but this new Blu-ray allows it to pop and sparkle like never before. Now bear in mind, it’s still 16mm – so don’t expect a night and day difference between this release and last year’s SE DVD, but to the eye that spends time and effort looking for the little improvements 1080p allows, this is worth the upgrade.

It is somewhat interesting to note that within the span of a single year, “Spearhead” has technically been seen in four different home video presentations: the SE DVD from last summer, two versions presented within the first “Doctors Revisited” collection from last month (one of which, from a quality standpoint, is the antithesis of this Blu-ray), and now this release. It’s difficult to imagine that the hardcore collector doesn’t already have a version “Spearhead” in their collection, so to sweeten the upgrade, in the special features arena, the BBC have put together a disc different than perhaps expected. Read on…

Blu-ray Extras: The BBC has opted to carry nothing over from the previous DVD incarnations, which for some fans may not be seen as a positive. I’m viewing this Blu-ray as a potential addition to one’s collection, rather than a replacement for last year’s SE DVD. Instead, a new batch of extras has been lovingly prepared.

“A Dandy and a Clown” is a heartfelt, 45-minute documentary on Jon Pertwee. It doesn’t focus all that much on Doctor Who, but rather spends the bulk of its running time exploring his life and career on either side of his tenure as the Third Doctor, via interviews with some of those that knew him best. Likewise, the 30-minute piece “Carry On: The Life of Caroline John” is an intimate look at the late actress who portrayed Liz Shaw for a single season. We’ve never had such a doc on John prior to this disc, so it’s a welcome addition. Via interviews with her family and friends, it traces her love for the stage as well as her time on Who, her insecurity over the work she’d done on the show, and her reactions to the subsequent revelation that she was actually quite beloved by fans. Both productions look marvelous in HD, and rank among the classiest docs ever seen in the classic series range. Also presented in HD is a whopping 23 minutes of experimental silent footage taken from the Pertwee title sequence, and a two-minute restoration comparison. Finally, there’s a coming soon trailer for the SE of “The Green Death” presented in SD. No commentary track, no production notes subtitles, no photo gallery – though a brand new menu screen has been created for this disc.

So if you’re a freak for all things Who and Blu, you’ll no doubt want to add this to your collection. It seems unlikely that we’ll be getting any other single-story classic series releases on Blu-ray such as this one. The only other candidate that might benefit from such a presentation would be the Paul McGann TV movie, though, like much American TV of the ‘90s, while it was shot on film, I believe it was edited on video, which could present a whole host of problems for a potential high-def release. I imagine mounting a process along the lines of what’s been done with the Star Trek: The Next Generation Blu-rays would be in order. 

UPDATE: Check out this article at the RT website. It seems more work was done on “Spearhead” in order to bring it to Blu-ray after all.

Doctor Who: The Doctors Revisited - One to Four DVD review

No doubt, “The Doctors Revisited” series (or at least the first two sets, comprising the first eight Doctors) will be the most controversial Who-related DVD releases of the year. Anyone incensed by the monthly BBC America broadcasts of these same programs will likely have issues with these discs as well. However, let’s take a deep breath and consider who these sets are aimed at: (lifting a phrase from “Kinda”) The Not We. These are not for the hardcore Doctor Who collector. They’re for the casual fan, or the person who’s largely only familiar with the new series, and therefore we should probably cut these presentations some slack, as the people at which they are aimed may not have the same expectations that we do. So bear with me while I rant and rave, but eventually I will twist back around and turn this review into a recommendation (peppered with numerous reservations).

Having said all of that, taking a 4x3 TV image from the past and stretching it to fit a 16x9 screen of today – which is how the “feature presentations” on this set are screened - is one of the most baffling TV on DVD decisions that I’ve ever seen made, and I’ve watched and reviewed loads of TV on DVD over the years. I thought I’d seen every permutation of fuck up known to man and fan, but I’ve never seen anything quite like this, especially from a DVD range that is normally the absolute cream of the crop. I find the decision so offensive that with the broadcasts on BBC America, after the initial half-hour discussions of the Doctor in question are over, I end up turning the programs off and directing my attentions elsewhere – which is a shame, because I’ve been patiently waiting for quite a few years for BBC America to start showing some classic Who, so that there could be a massive shared experience among fans all over the country.

Pyramids of Mars

Never did it occur to me that the eventual presentation of this material would be so subpar that I couldn’t even bear to view it. Commercial breaks I can hang with. Omnibus over episodic format? I can deal with that, too. I could probably even make allowances for a few minor edits here and there for time reasons. I will not, however, tolerate a distorted and poor TV image. In this day and age proper aspect ratio is key to any TV or movie viewing, and “The Doctors Revisted” series has been incorrectly presented since it started back in January.

The Tomb of the Cybermen

Of course, for a huge chunk of the BBC America viewing audience, “The Doctors Revisited” series has been a mass shared experience. Most people are not bothered by the stretching of image. If they were, BBC America would’ve been so inundated with complaints they’d likely have changed it. Warping square images into a 16x9 frame is so common at this point – most widescreen TVs automatically do it to standard definition signals – there can be no doubt that millions and millions of people don’t even notice that it’s incorrect. Or if they do, they simply don’t care - otherwise they’d fiddle with the aspect ratio buttons on their remotes (though even doing that typically presents its own set of problems, at least for these broadcasts).

Spearhead from Space

Indeed, many viewers likely prefer it. Years ago I worked at a laserdisc store. This was some time before DVD, of course, so watching movies in widescreen (or “letterbox” as we called it back then) was still something only cinephiles engaged in and appreciated. Many people who came into the store had big screen TVs – square ones – and I was often reminded by customers that they didn’t buy those big TVs to see black bars at the top and bottom. No, they wanted the entire screen filled, and if that meant sacrificing sections of the movie itself, then so be it. And I am willing to bet that attitude exists today as well with 16x9 flatscreens; the average consumer would probably rather not see black bars on the sides of their TV set. It likely looks more offensive to their eye than a stretched 4x3 image, filling the entire TV screen. Bit of a shame, but then people also preferred VHS over Betamax.

The Aztecs

So in a way it makes a sort of warped sense that these stories are shown this way on BBC America and on this collection, as well. And in fact I’d argue “Leave it to the Doctor Who DVD range to so batshit crazily experiment in this manner.” Of course, none of this really excuses the unrestored versions used for the Hartnell, Troughton, and Pertwee stories, especially given all the work the Restoration Team has done over the past 20 years. It sort of goes to show how disconnected the many departments of the BBC often are, when prints this archaic are used for both broadcast and DVD release. If there’s a real fuck up to complain about with this set, it’s this. 

Menu Screengrab from Disc 2

So, I couldn’t in good conscience recommend this set to anyone based on everything written above. 

However (there's always a however...), somebody somewhere made the incredibly wise decision to include - alongside the horrific versions - the restored original four-part versions of each of the four serials here, presented in 4x3, as god intended. Fair enough. You (and by you I mean the powers that be) can showcase your wares and shoddily as you wish, as long as the good stuff is presented right alongside it. Basically the viewer can watch the special on the Doctor of their choosing, then go check out Steven Moffat’s introduction on the main feature of the story in question, and then finally click away from that and settle into watching the serialized version. This DVD collection works just fine if you know how to go about using it, and as such it’s a lovely collection for people just getting into classic Who. 

Fridge Magnets

And these four stories – “The Aztecs,” “The Tomb of the Cybermen,” “Spearhead from Space,” and “Pyramids of Mars” - are wonderful primer, although I probably would’ve chosen a different story to represent the Pertwee era. While “Spearhead” is a great deal of fun and a cracking yarn, it doesn’t really showcase Pertwee’s Doctor as we’d eventually come to know him. With it being his first story, he, and perhaps the production team as well, hadn’t quite found the character yet. Minor quibble, but then this review is already so full of quibbles, what’s wrong with throwing down yet another?

The only real extra aside from the programming talked about in this review is a set of four fridge magnets (see left), featuring each of the first four Doctors surrounded by a selection of their enemies. The first volume of “The Doctors Revisited” is certainly a complicated DVD release, but not one that should be dismissed outright, as with the proper knowledge it will accomplish precisely what it sets out to do, and in that sense, the DVD trumps the BBC America broadcasts of the same material.

Read the review for “The Doctors Revisited - Fifth to Eighth” by clicking here.
  

Doctor Who: The Mind of Evil DVD review

The release of “The Mind of Evil” is an important one, because with it the Jon Pertwee era of Doctor Who is finally complete on DVD – and as a total viewing experience, his era is more complete than it has been since his run first aired back in the early seventies. For ages, several dozen Pertwee episodes existed only as subpar, 16mm black and white recordings. Over the years, the Doctor Who Restoration Team has worked diligently, using a variety of techniques, to get each of these half-hours as close as possible to their original vision. The work that’s been done to “The Mind of Evil” (parts of which were considered to be in the worst shape of the lot) represents the final pieces of the Pertwee puzzle, and it’s been a long time coming, given that the first such work the RT did on afflicted Pertwee episodes was in 1992. Fast forward to today - over 20 years later - and Steve Roberts and company have every reason to climb up on the roof and crow, for they have accomplished what at one time seemed impossible.

And what a story to finish up on! While not emblematic of the Pertwee era as a whole, season eight’s “The Mind of Evil” is more representative of the Doctor Who that almost was. It’s the unintentional addendum to season seven, which featured a trilogy of successive seven-part serials (“Doctor Who and the Silurians,” “The Ambassadors of Death,” and “Inferno”) that saw the show veering into harder adult sci-fi territory than it had in the six seasons prior. “The Mind of Evil”, which has “only” six episodes, turns that trilogy into a quadrilogy warranting serious discussion and admiration; they stand tall, and very much apart from nearly everything else produced for TV under the name Doctor Who. “Mind” is, in fact, the only other Who story from Don Houghton, the man who wrote the crown jewel of the four, “Inferno,” which, rather sweetly, gets its special edition upgrade on the same day this is released. Likewise, “Mind” is directed by Timothy Combe, whose only other Who directing credit is the aforementioned “Silurians” tale. Between the previous credentials of its writer and director alone, for the initiated, “The Mind of Evil” has all the right stuff.

A skeptical Doctor (Pertwee) and his assistant Jo Grant (Katy Manning) head for Stangmoor prison to see a demonstration of the allegedly revolutionary Keller Machine, which its proponents claim is capable of cleansing the minds of violent criminals, rendering them harmless. The prison already appears to be an unsafe place, with the inmates constantly on the verge of rioting, and soon enough the machine proves dangerous as well, when it is revealed to be adept at exploiting fears to the point of death. Soon the curtain is pulled back, and the Master (Roger Delgado) is behind the seemingly alien machine, but his plans are bigger than mind control. With the World Peace Conference on the horizon, and a Thunderbolt missile armed with nerve gas transported smack through the middle of the action, the Doctor will need the help of his friends at UNIT to avert this round of the Master’s sinister plans.

Before “The Ambassadors of Death” was released last year, my excitement was off the charts (and the DVD was a ridiculously enjoyable experience), but when it came down to writing about it, I found it an impossible task; sat down and tried at least a half a dozen times with no success. And as I sit here trying to think of deeper observations to make about “The Mind of Evil,” I feel similarly blocked. These serials are so different from the rest of the series that they almost can’t be talked about within the context of everything else. “The Mind of Evil” has been called a “James Bond style political thriller.” You know what else was called - by Steven Moffat, no less - a “proper James Bond thriller”? “The Bells of Saint John.” Tough to immediately name two Who stories that have less in common than that pair. If you played one after another for the uninitiated, would they even guess they’re from the same ongoing 50-year storyline? In any case, “The Bells of Saint John” has about as much in common with James Bond as a random episode of Happy Days: a scene with a guy on a motorcycle. “The Mind of Evil,” however? More so, for certain. Its over-the-top plot and convoluted plan of the Master’s smack of fare that’s lifted from a Bond movie. And the serial’s got an honest-to-god missile to play with – on loan from the military, who cooperated with and also worked on “Mind.”

A few stray observations, notes and trivia...

“The Mind of Evil” must take place at least six months after “Terror of the Autons” (something about a year is even mentioned at one point). It must have taken the Master at least that long, if not longer, to put all of this together. Further, Jo Grant has grown by leaps and bounds since the previous story. It actually feels as though she’s been through numerous adventures with the Doctor and UNIT. She and the Doctor now have a great deal of respect for each other, and she’s shown to be quite capable of taking care of herself, including getting physical on a couple occasions.

Manning declares “The Mind of Evil” her favorite serial, and claims Pertwee felt the same. Perhaps this should come as no surprise, given that it’s unencumbered by many of the usual bells and whistles (i.e. monsters and technobabble) that normally fuel Doctor Who, and is a relatively straightforward piece that often keeps the actors front and center.

With the serial being from 1971, as well as its initial emphasis on mind-cleansing, at first glance you want to say it’s the Doctor Who reaction to A Clockwork Orange. Maybe…maybe not. This serial and the movie were actually in production concurrently, so Kubrick’s film couldn’t have been an influence, however, it is possible Houghton was a fan of the Anthony Burgess novel. The production notes, I believe, also suggest that the classic Star Trek episode “Dagger of the Mind” may have been an influence, though they also acknowledge that the themes of mind control were quite common at the time.

UNIT is at their very best in this unofficial quadriology. Their role is taken quite seriously, and never is the Brigadier or his staff the butt of a joke or a gag. In later seasons, UNIT wasn’t portrayed with nearly as much respect as in these early outings, and here it’s all serious hardcore espionage and adventure. “The Mind of Evil” has quite a bit of action, and it’s a classy-looking production. Director Combe even went over budget, and was never invited back to the series as a result. Pity.

No doubt some readers would like to know how the video quality stands up, and the answer is “Much better than I expected.” Episode one was, I believe, colored frame by frame with great success, however, the picture quality is probably the softest of the half dozen. The remaining five had the color recovery process applied to them, and are sharper, but of variable image quality ranging from pretty nice to most definitely acceptable. Certainly one must take into account the poor shape these episodes were in to begin with to appreciate how amazing this set really is.

Producer Barry Letts ultimately guided the series back to its more imaginative, family-friendly roots, which was probably for the best in the long run…but there’s no question that “The Mind of Evil” is a pretty special slice of Doctor Who, and it’s no doubt one of the most exciting classic Who releases of the year.

DVD Extras: Imbibing in some of these bonus features feels similar to what it must be like to receive a letter in the mail from someone who has recently died. The commentary track features the late Barry Letts, which is quite the treat. Additionally, the revolving roster of participants features Manning, Pik-Sen Lim (Houghton’s widow, who also plays Chin Lee in the serial), Fernanda Marlowe (Corporal Bell), Combe, Terrance Dicks, and stunt arranger Derek Ware – all moderated by the reliably enthusiastic Toby Hadoke.

“The Military Mind” is a 22-minute making-of filmed mostly on location at the castle which doubled for the prison. Among its participants is Letts once again (looking very frail; it must have been near the end) as well as the mighty Nicholas Courtney. Further, the clips used from “Mind” in this are all taken from the black and white version of the serial, which is quite the retro treat for those of us who first viewed the serial in that manner (granted, they have been cropped to fit the 16x9 aspect ratio, but that’s pretty commonplace on the docs these days). There’s also a “Now and Then” featurette on the locations (again, largely the castle), as well as a vintage piece entitled “Behind the Scenes: Television Centre” from 1971, which I frankly found rather tedious. Funny, because just last month “The Visitation” SE offered up a modern tour of the same building. PDF materials include Radio Times listings as well as images from a 1971 Kellogg’s Sugar Smacks promotion centered on the Third Doctor and UNIT. There’s also a photo gallery, the production notes subtitle option, and a trailer for upcoming Blu-ray release of “Spearhead from Space.”

Separated at Birth?

Snow Miser (voiced by Dick Shawn), from the 1970 Rankin Bass holiday special, The Year Without a Santa Claus, and the Third Doctor (Jon Pertwee)? 

Doctor Who: The Claws of Axos Special Edition DVD review

“Look, Lois, ever since marijuana was legalized, crime has gone down, productivity is up, and the ratings for Doctor Who are through the roof!” - Brian, Family Guy, “Episode 420”

For no less than three different reasons, that remains some of my favorite Family Guy dialogue ever written. It’s anyone’s guess how many Doctor Who fans watch the show in altered states of mind, but now, here in the States, folks in Washington can at least do so openly and without fear of persecution. They can hold massive, marijuana-fueled Who marathons, and any such festival will most surely want to include “The Claws of Axos,” which is not necessarily one of classic Who’s greatest stories, but it’s certainly one of the trippiest.

The plot is no great shakes. It’s a standard alien invasion yarn, that’s hook is “they appear to come in peace, but actually have ulterior, sinister motives.” This is the sort of sci-fi tale that’s been told thousands of times, and by that measure, “The Claws of Axos” will not rock your world. However, Roger Ebert’s old rule – one by which I live and never pass up the opportunity to quote - is, “It’s not what a movie is about, it’s how it is about it.” And it’s the “how” of “Axos” that makes it such a classic. Just recently one of my Whovian brethren, Lee Hurtado, of The Hurtado Street Theater, was telling me how he got into Who, and explained that even though he’d seen several stories prior, it was “Axos” that eventually sold him on the series. The serial is so damn committed to its own weirdness, that you really cannot take your eyes off of it, and it does sort of beg the question, for the uninitiated at least, “What the fuck is this!?!?”

The first ten minutes of the first episode alone declare, like Laverne and Shirley, “We’re gonna do it our way,” due in no small part to the character Pigbin Josh, a filthy, disgusting, seemingly homeless man (played by stuntman Derek Ware), whose sole function in the story is to be the first victim of the claws of Axos, so that the viewer knows right off the bat that the golden Axons are hostile, despite their benign presentational ruse later on in the tale. Anyway, during this first ten minutes, the action cuts back and forth from the arrival of the Axons, to the Doctor and UNIT, to this character, Pigbin Josh, wandering around in the snow, doing an awful lot of talking to himself, and none of it intelligible. Thankfully, somebody has transcribed some Pigbin speak and put it on the official BBC classic Who website for all to attempt to decipher:  

“Furge thangering muck witchellers rock throbblin' this time o' day Ur bin oughta gone put thickery blarmdasted zones about, gordangun, diddenum? Havver froggin' law onnum, shouldnum? Eh? Eh? Arn I?”

Ahem. Ah, well, yes. If you’re an American fan raised on the Peanuts, you’ll quickly begin referring to him as Pigpen Josh, because that makes more sense to a Yank. Now if only Josh were the end of The Weirdness of Axos, which would’ve been a wholly appropriate name for this tale. The Axon ship, years before Farscape’s Moya, is a living ship. Its organic interior is the sort of thing to be hallucinated in the most unsettling of LSD trips, and even as I sit here trying to think of how to describe it, I’m resigning myself to falling back on some sort of clichéd “it defies description” type of line. Really it does, much of which is due to Who’s low budget. Had millions been pumped into this, we may have had a place from which to start talking, but as is, it’s just weird a hodgepodge of bizarre soft angles, vaginal doorways and the occasional crab claw. Oh, and plenty of acid slides. 

Nothing will prepare you for the arrival of the eyeball of Axos, which dangles in exactly the same way a limp penis might, and issues commands and orders in a creepy, hollow voice. Then there are the golden Axons themselves, who are such a striking creation that even in a story that’s as visually whacked as this one, they’ve sort of become the thing “Axos” is most well known for. Or are they? Because later in the story, the Axons reveal another form, which is a hulking, red mess of tentacles - a look which is almost as iconic as the golden versions of Axos. It is debatable, I suppose, which Axon form is the more iconic; the tentacled version has actually been turned into an action figure, while the golden has not (updated 01/06/2014 - now it has), which could be part of the debate. In any case, the fact that the production team achieved two entirely different looks for this race that are both iconic to such degrees is high praise indeed.

So, I’ve pretty much gotten to the point where I’m realizing exactly how balls out crazy I’ve made “Axos” sound, which was sort of the point, because you’ll see things here you can’t unsee, or see in any other Doctor Who story. Should you, as Dazed and Confused advised upon its release, “See it with a bud!”? Most certainly, if and only if that’s your sort of thing. The story works just fine, however, if you’re sober. For a more coherent breakdown, and one mired in actual criticism, I turned to the aforementioned Lee Hurtado, who, to the best of my knowledge, does not engage in the sorts of activities spoken of here. He laid it out thusly:

           

“There was alchemy at work in the story, something that brought its disparate elements together in a way that shouldn't have worked as it did. The limited production values, the garish visual aesthetic of the Axons, a plot that's at once simple and well over the top, and (of course) the marvelous performances of [Jon] Pertwee and [Roger] Delgado - all combined to create something I recognized as truly alien, and therefore truly original. From then on, my fate was sealed. I was, and am, the Doctor's.”

On a completely different, and in my opinion far less interesting level, anyone who owned the original DVD of “Axos” no doubt knows that the quality of Episodes Two and Three was dodgy at best. New tech has emerged since then, bringing both eps up to a quality comparable to Episodes One and Four, and therefore totally justifying this special edition. For the hardcore Who nut, this isn’t just double-dipping for double-dipping’s sake, it’s quite possibly an essential.

DVD Extras: Almost everything that was on the original DVD (including the commentary with Katy Manning, Richard Franklin, and Barry Letts) has been ported over onto this new double-disc set, except for a ten-minute documentary entitled “Reverse Standards Conversion: The Axon Legacy,” which was a look at the restoration given to the story for the original DVD release; that information is not applicable to this new release, so it has been excised. No new doc, detailing the recent restoration work, was produced to take its place, however there is a fresh, new article up at the Restoration Team’s website detailing the work that went into this special edition.

New to the table is a 26-minute making of doc entitled “Axon Stations!,” which, amusingly, goes into detail about the sheer drugginess of this story, and also spends time discussing the story’s writers, Bob Baker and Dave Martin (the former went on to write Wallace and Gromit). Quite possibly the best extra, however, is “Living with Levene,” in which Toby Hadoke spends the weekend with John Levene (Sgt. Benton), who comes across as a fascinating eccentric, and quite possibly Doctor Who’s most uncelebrated MVP. Finally, partially new to the table is 73 minutes worth of rare “Axos” studio recording, some of which appeared on the old disc in a much shorter version (inexplicably duplicated here as well on Disc One). The Radio Times listings are also presented in PDF form. Additionally, there’s a coming soon trailer for the long awaited release of the unfinished story “Shada,” which will be hitting DVD in January, in a box set along with the 1993 documentary “More Than Thirty Years in TARDIS.”

Doctor Who: Spearhead from Space Special Edition DVD review

Looking for a review of the “Spearhead from Space” Blu-ray? Click here.

Having been critical of some of the recent classic Who Special Edition DVDs, it’s great to be in a position to bestow some kudos once again, as “Spearhead from Space” is a story absolutely deserving of some double dip love, especially given that, alongside “The Five Doctors” and “The Robots of Death,” it was one of the first three stories released on DVD back in September of 2001. First is a word that’s used frequently when talking about “Spearhead.” It’s the first story of the 1970’s. It’s the first story in color. It’s the first tale of Season Seven. It’s the first story of Jon Pertwee’s era, as well as the first story with Caroline John’s Liz Shaw. It’s the first story to feature the Autons. It’s the first story to explore in some detail the process of regeneration, and the Doctor’s physiology (we’ve got your first mention of two hearts, right here!)

Now that’s a lot of firsts, and yet what to my mind overshadows them all is the fact that “Spearhead from Space” is the first - and only - story from the classic series shot entirely on film[1] and on location. If it weren’t the sole instance, that fact would likely be lumped in with all the other firsts, but since visually this tale is such an anomaly, its filmic aspects tower above almost everything else. Once one sees “Spearhead,” one cannot help but wonder what the rest of Doctor Who might’ve been like if everything that followed had been produced in this manner.

One major criticism that all too often gets lobbed in the direction of classic Who is that it frequently looks cheap, due to how much of it’s shot on videotape. One thing unlikely to ever be said about “Spearhead” is that it looks cheap; dated, perhaps, but not cheap. Shot entirely on 16mm, this thing looks like a coolly classic horror sci-fi flick from the early 70’s. It has such a different style that much of it is borderline unrecognizable as Doctor Who. (Obviously, your mileage may vary.) As for why this happened, and why it never happened again, well, let’s leave a few mysteries for you to discover via the DVD.

So, all these firsts tend to dominate any discussion of “Spearhead,” to the point where the story itself doesn’t get talked about nearly as much, but then again the story isn’t necessarily one of its strongest aspects. It’s a good, old-fashioned alien invasion yarn, sure, but it’s not exactly bathed in brilliance from a plot or character standpoint. What is its greatest strength, however, is in how perfectly Robert Holmes’s script reinvented Doctor Who from what it was before. In one fell swoop it became virtually a different TV series from the six seasons that preceded it, and laid down a new template that would be followed and/or experimented with over the next few years (though in fairness, credit also needs to be given to “The Web of Fear” and “The Invasion.”)

Further, an argument could easily be mounted that it was here, within the confines of “Spearhead,” that the seeds for modern Doctor Who were laid. You’ll find inspiration from “Spearhead” in no less than “Doctor Who: The Movie,” “Rose,” and “The Christmas Invasion,” and what those stories all have in common is that each of them is a “starting over” point, and they all seemingly had the good sense to reach back to this tale as a means of doing just that.

There’s loads of talk and info on this DVD about how and why Doctor Who was very near the brink of cancellation at the end of the Troughton era, and that the only reason it was given another season is because the higher ups at the BBC couldn’t come up with a worthy replacement. In this instance, thank goodness for their uncreative minds, because if not for the greenlighting of another season with a new Doctor, and for Derrick Sherwin’s bold reinvention of the series, it’s highly unlikely we’d be talking about Doctor Who today. Sherwin’s a guy who doesn’t often get a lot of credit for his contributions to the series, but he did some really important stuff in regards to Who (or at least he claims to have). While “Spearhead” is a story of many firsts, in the case of Sherwin it was his last, for it was after the production of this serial that he was moved off of Who, and Barry Letts was brought in as his replacement. 

If there’s a star of “Spearhead,” it’s undoubtedly the Autons. Simply, the series had never seen anything like them before, and children raised on steady diets of Cybermen and Daleks must have been truly and genuinely terrified by the shop window mannequins coming to life, and going on a killing spree across London. These creatures didn’t feel like fiction from outer space, but seemingly a tangible threat kids could understand and relate to in a way that few Who monsters before them achieved. But alas, shop window dummies proved to be something of a one-trick pony, as the sequel to “Spearhead,” “Terror of the Autons,” proved by being considerably less effective than the original, and the Autons wouldn’t threaten the Doctor again until 2005, in the aforementioned “Rose.” (Due credit must also be given to Steven Moffat for his own reinvention of what an Auton can be via Rory the Roman.)

As far as double-dips go, “Spearhead” looks as clean and perfect as ever I’ve seen it (and boy have I seen some crappy looking versions of this over the years). I don’t know if it’s quite a night and day difference from the 2001 DVD. I attempted to do some screengrab comparisons for this piece, but ultimately decided to not go that route as I couldn’t see major, breathtaking differences via frame by frame comparisons. That said, this serial’s been cleaned up considerably in contrast to the old DVD, and the new extras more than make it worth returning to the well. Besides, the bit of the excised Fleetwood Mac song “Oh Well, Part 1” has been reinstated into the factory scene. (For purists, this is great news. For Mac freaks like me? A long overdue necessity.) My only complaint? If ever there was a classic Who story that begged for a Blu-ray release, it’s this one, and it sure would’ve been nice if a chance had been taken, as this would be a treasure in 1080p.

[1] The only other Doctor Who story shot entirely on film was the aforementioned TV movie from 1996, but this writer doesn’t consider that part of the classic series, because, well, it’s not. It stands on it own. I’m not saying it’s not part of continuity, just not part of the classic series.

DVD Extras: Aside from the now dated “Who’s Who” featurette, everything from the 2001 DVD, including the commentary with Nick Courtney and Caroline John, has been ported over for this release, so you can pass your old disc on to a Who newbie with confidence. New to this disc is a second commentary track featuring Sherwin and Terrance Dicks, which is lively, informative fun. Sherwin’s something of a blowhard, but that’s part of his charm. He reminds me far more of an American producer than a Brit. “Down to Earth” is a fine, proper making of doc, even if at 22 minutes it feels a little short. It includes bits from a vintage interview with Jon Pertwee, which is a nice bonus. “Regenerations: From Black and White to Color” feels as if it’s an extension of the first doc, and its title is fairly self-explanatory. Additionally, there’s a nice selection of Radio Times listings in PDF form, and a trailer for “The Greatest Show in the Galaxy.”

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.