Timeless Adventures (25 page)

It’s a shame that such political commentary did not feature more often during the 1980s, although it could be argued that the following story,
The Mark of the Rani
, dealing with Luddites battling mechanisation, saw the show mirroring the recent industrial turbulence and unrest in Britain. Primarily the story was about the introduction of the Rani, a female equivalent to the Master, and an excuse for more stunt casting by Nathan-Turner, bringing in soap star Kate O’Mara.

Similarly,
The Two Doctors
was entirely constructed around the gimmicks of bringing back Patrick Troughton and Frazer Hines, following their appearances in 1983’s
The Five Doctors
, and location filming in Spain (after New Orleans fell through). Additionally, the story featured the stunt casting of
Blake’s 7
’s Jacqueline Pearce and the return of 1970s’
Doctor Who
monsters the Sontarans. However, threaded through the story is a vague concern for animal welfare as the origins of human food are considered, with aliens called Androgums (an anagram of ‘gourmand’) out to sample Earth’s finest delicacies. It’s hardly a paean to vegetarianism, but it is a theme that runs through several of the season’s stories, from the use of people as raw materials (in
Attack of the Cybermen
) and using the dead as the basis of food (in
Revelation of the Daleks
), to cannibalism on Varos and comments from the Rani about the deaths of animals. With vegetarianism becoming a growing ‘lifestyle choice’ (alongside other ‘health’ issues) in the mid-1980s, it is no surprise that it should be reflected in
Doctor Who
. The consistency with which the theme is referenced (even if only in passing) would suggest a deliberate policy by script editor Saward or writer Holmes (who was more used to incorporating this kind of real-world commentary in scripts for the 1970s version of the show). The Doctor does turn vegetarian himself as a result.

The poorly written and realised
Timelash
offered a guest-starring role for another of the
Blake’s 7
cast: a suitably melodramatic Paul Darrow (who’d appeared briefly in
Doctor Who and the Silurians
in 1970). The season climax saw the return of the Daleks and Davros in a Saward-written story crafted in the style of Evelyn Waugh’s
The
Loved One
, with a dash of
Soylent Green
(1973). Davros is discovered posing as ‘the Great Healer’, whose base at the Tranquil Repose funeral home is providing him with all the raw material he needs to feed a hungry galaxy and create a new race of malevolent Daleks. Like
Vengeance on Varos
, the story featured a narrator in the form of Alexei Sayle’s radio DJ, commenting on the action before being exterminated.

During the transmission of
The Two Doctors
the BBC announced that
Doctor Who
would be taking a longer break than usual. The unusual announcement sparked a media frenzy, with
The Sun
running a front-page story headlined ‘Dr Who Axed in BBC Plot!’ The break, as a result of a funding shortfall at the BBC after the launch of daytime TV and
EastEnders
, was seen by those outside the executive floor of Television Centre as cancellation, especially as the show had been criticised from within (mainly by Head of Drama Jonathan Powell and BBC1 Controller Michael Grade) as too violent and having lost its way. The controversy was partially instigated by producer John Nathan-Turner working through ‘continuity consultant’ Ian Levine, who could plant stories in the press while leaving the BBC producer with a clean pair of hands. Once it was explained that the series would be back after an 18-month break,
The Sun
claimed to have ‘saved’
Doctor
Who
, even though it appears there was no actual intention of permanently dropping the show.

Nonetheless, when season 23 did air,
Doctor Who
was felt to be on trial, a fear that pervaded the production team. This led to the season-long umbrella theme of the Doctor on trial by the Time Lords. The original plans for the next season were abandoned, even though writers had been commissioned, in favour of four interlinked stories that would be transmitted across 14 episodes under the overall title banner
The Trial of a Time Lord
.

The decision marked the climax of Nathan-Turner’s event-television approach: the entire 14-episode season would be the event. The resulting series made many concerned fans and casual viewers wonder what had gone on during the 18-month period the production team had to prepare the show. The growing tensions between Nathan-Turner and Saward were apparent. While Saward had been struggling to find new directions, Nathan-Turner had become increasingly caught up in such extracurricular activities as attending fan conventions (especially in the US), and producing Christmas pantomimes, often starring the main
Doctor Who
cast. Saward had increasing misgivings about the casting of Colin Baker and was extremely worried about the way that Nathan-Turner was running the show, his sixth year in charge (the longest-running
Doctor Who
producer to that date). The casting of child star Bonnie Langford as the Doctor’s companion (she’d arrive mid-trial) fuelled Saward’s worries.

The Trial of a Time Lord
was unrewarding for viewers, despite the gimmick of foregrounding the show’s own ‘on-trial’ status in the onscreen narrative. This took Saward’s obsession with Greek choruses (characters within the drama who comment on the action) within the programme (
Vengeance on Varos, Revelation of the Daleks
) to a new extreme as the Doctor himself settled down to watch his own adventures on a big screen in the Time Lord courtroom. The trial format – conjured up in a moment of desperation by Saward and enthusiastically adopted by Nathan-Turner – was intended to mirror Dickens’
A Christmas Carol
, with adventures from the Doctor’s past, present and future. The opening story (known as
The Mysterious Planet
) was written by old
Doctor Who
hand Robert Holmes to be more humorous following a brief from Grade, but was dismissed by Powell as being ‘lightweight’. This contradictory feedback further alienated Saward from the production and would ultimately lead to his acrimonious departure before the completion of the season.
The Mysterious Planet
is a soft
Mad Max
in which mankind has reverted to primitive ways on a planet revealed to be a relocated Earth. It was an inauspicious and low-key re-launch for a series living on borrowed time.

The second adventure (known as
Mindwarp
) provided the high-light of the season, bringing back Sil, the villain of
Vengeance on
Varos
, showing the surprising removal of the Doctor from time, and climaxing with the shocking death of companion Peri in a brain-swap operation. A colourful story,
Mindwarp
once again saw
Doctor Who
used as a technical test bed, this time for the HARRY Paintbox digital-effects system, which resulted in Sil’s planet boasting a green sky, purple rocks and a pink sea!

Bonnie Langford arrived aboard the TARDIS in the Agatha Christie-style, murder-mystery ‘future’ segment (known as
Terror of the
Vervoids
), set onboard doomed space liner
Hyperion III
. This led into the final two-part wrap-up of the
Trial
season (known as
The Ultimate
Foe
, though all these episode titles were not seen onscreen, and only used for novelisations and DVD releases). By the time these final episodes were produced (before the Vervoids story was made), Saward had decided to leave the show. When he quit he gave a scathing interview to SF magazine
Starburst
in which he criticised Nathan-Turner’s ‘light-entertainment’ style of
Doctor Who
, his poor casting decisions and his obsession with peripheral minutiae like merchandising and conventions, rather than well-written scripts or properly thought-out characters. ‘I was getting very fed up with the way
Doctor
Who
was being run, largely by John Nathan-Turner – his attitude and his lack of insight into what makes a television series like
Doctor Who
work,’ said Saward. ‘After being cancelled and coming back almost in the same manner as we were before, [with] the same sort of pantomime-ish aspects that I so despised about the show, I just think it isn’t worth it.’

As a result of Saward’s departure, his original script for episode 14 could not be used, so a hastily created replacement (by Nathan-Turner stalwarts Pip and Jane Baker) was put together. ‘When I left, I was writing the last episode,’ confirmed Saward. ‘We had talked about this ending and he had agreed, in principle, to a hard, cliffhanging thing. The episode went in and John said, “I don’t like the end; we can’t go out on that end.” He wanted the happy pantomime ending.’ As a result, the climax to the 14-week-long trial was an incoherent narrative that only escaped greater criticism because much of it took place in the fantasy environment of the Matrix (
The Deadly
Assassin
), so logical storytelling was not a strong point. The conclusion revealed the prosecuting Valeyard (Michael Jayston) to be a future, evil incarnation of the Doctor himself, in collusion with the Time Lords to cover up their criminal actions (which involved the moving of Earth in the opening story,
The Mysterious Planet
). As a result of Saward’s walkout, his original cliff-hanger ending – in which the Valeyard and the Doctor tumbled into a ‘time vent’, their survival (and that of the show itself) uncertain – could not be used. Nathan-Turner felt this ending would be a hostage to fortune, giving the BBC an opportunity to cancel the series. Viewers who had stuck with the trial through 14 weeks would require a satisfactory ending. He didn’t quite deliver that, but Colin Baker’s Sixth Doctor left the scene intact, along with new companion Mel (Langford).

The Trial of a Time Lord
had been a brave experiment, but one that failed to address the criticisms that had resulted in the show being put on hiatus. The behind-the-scenes and onscreen narrative chaos in which the production ended only added fuel to the criticisms, many now voiced by the show’s own script editor. Despite the latest of his annual attempts to leave, producer John Nathan-Turner was ‘persuaded to stay’ as the show’s producer, although he had no script editor, no scripts, and was about to lose his leading man. Although the BBC decided to continue with
Doctor Who
, Nathan-Turner was instructed to replace the star, a fact revealed after the broadcast of the final episode of
The Trial of a Time Lord
.

The whole run had averaged only 4.8 million viewers, compared with a previous average of 7.2 million (a remarkably steady figure through the Davison years and into Baker’s first season). This dramatic loss of viewers during a serial that was intended as a major re-launch for the show was disappointing, and series star Colin Baker was made the scapegoat. It was felt within the BBC that the only way of revitalising
Doctor Who
was to have a fresh start with a new Doctor.

The casting of Sylvester McCoy as the new Doctor and the arrival of Andrew Cartmel as script editor drew a line under a troubled period in
Doctor Who
’s history and gave the show a new lease of life for the next three years. Nathan-Turner’s retreat from many of the show’s creative aspects gave Cartmel unprecedented freedom to reinvent the series. He was a young writer and trainee script editor attached to the BBC Drama Unit’s scriptwriting workshop. A huge fan of comic books (then in vogue and being taken seriously as literature in the wake of
The Dark Knight and Watchmen
), he would bring some elements of comic-book storytelling to
Doctor Who
.

The fresh start saw season 24 open with another Pip and Jane Baker script (commissioned by Nathan-Turner, rather than Cartmel) featuring dodgy science and a return encounter with the Rani (Kate O’Mara). Much like
The Twin Dilemma
before it,
Time and the Rani
proved to be an inauspicious debut for the new Doctor and Cartmel was happy to disassociate himself from it.

Cartmel’s time on the show saw the introduction of a host of new, young TV writers, many of whom he’d met while at the BBC’s Drama Unit. These new writers had grown up watching
Doctor Who
, would draw on their ‘folk memory’ of the show, and had a good feel for what worked and what didn’t. Several current late-1980s political and social themes permeated the adventures overseen by Cartmel and created by his stable of young writers. After almost a decade, the series finally got around to addressing aspects of Thatcherism, mainly as the writers had come to maturity in Thatcher’s Britain. Writing about this came as naturally to them as writing about the mining industry, the European Union or environmentalism did to Letts and Dicks. The writers were Thatcher’s children, so a sharp increase in political and social allegory appeared from
Paradise Towers
onwards, although this never came before a need to entertain the audience.

The decline of council estates and the consequences of Thatcher’s sell-off of council housing heavily informed
Paradise Towers
. In a time when consumer culture expanded to take in architecture and houses, setting a
Doctor Who
adventure within a run-down, futuristic tower block (perhaps drawn from JG Ballard’s
High Rise
) seems obvious. Divisions within society (rich and poor, the suburban and urban communities) had grown throughout the eight years that Prime Minister Thatcher had been in power. Since 1979, her policies had largely increased social division, mirrored in the Kangs (devolved youth subcultures) and the Rezzies (secluded residents of exclusive or ‘gated’ communities) of
Paradise Towers
. With the Falklands war a strong memory for those who were teenagers or in their twenties at the time (like the writers), the anti-war sentiments of the Towers’ ‘hero’ Pex seem understandable. The satire of dictators was played up by the visualisation of the Caretaker as a Hitler figure, helped enormously by Richard Briers’ performance.

Another dictatorial figure emerged in season 26’s
The Happiness
Patrol
. Helen A (Sheila Hancock) was an obviously Thatcher-inspired ruler, while the story featured elements of Chilean dictator Pinochet’s policy of ‘disappearance’ as a way of dealing with political opponents (the Falklands war saw Thatcher’s UK government going easy on Pinochet in return for Chilean support in South America). The visual look of
The Happiness Patrol
– pastel colours and candy-inspired décor – reflected growing ‘rave culture’ (smiley-face symbols and ‘happy’ drugs) and the dance-music scene revolving around ecstasy. Kitsch culture was celebrated in the Kandy Man, a robotic creature (chief torturer of the regime) whose look echoed that of Bertie Bassett, a cartoon advertising figure built from sweets and used by Bassett to promote their All Sorts brand. The serious satire may have been buried in the day-glo look, but many viewers were turned off by the superficial impact of the visuals without considering the story’s ideas.