Looking Back: The Rescue

'One day, I shall come back; yes, I shall come back. Until then, there must be no tears, no regrets, no anxieties - just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine.'

These words are, without doubt, the most memorable of the whole of classic Doctor Who. Any fan of the show is likely to have heard them, marvelled at their beauty, watched with tears in their eyes as William Hartnell's First Doctor closes the TARDIS doors on his beloved granddaughter for the final time. It's a gut-wrenching scene, at the tail end of an endlessly impressive story, exploring new shades of the best character ever to come out of television.

It's also very, very problematic.

Or at least, it was at the time. You see, now that Susan (O guide of the casual audience, o Queen of first-episode jeopardy, o teenage interface, o exposition hydrant) was out of the picture (having fallen in love with, courted with and finally become engaged to a man she had known for what can be playfully interpreted as a mere two and a half hours), the TARDIS 'family' needed a new bright young thing to zhoozh up dull plots and get into trouble. It wouldn't do to have Barbara falling into all the pits, or indeed being pointed at by all the menacing kitchen appliances on her own, and certainly Ian wasn't going anywhere near any dangerous situation until it was certain that there might be some sort of manly death match at the end of it. The Doctor, too, had his own role, preferring to make noises at landscapes or chuckle about technology until he was really needed. So the production team went on the lookout for a replacement; a replacement we find here, in The Rescue, in the form of Vicki.

As I mentioned when I discussed The Sontaran Experiment back in 2013, two-part stories are something of a rarity in the classic series. Not only are they few and far between (with only seven in the twenty-six years of Doctor Who's original run) but they are also, generally, not very good. You might take against my saying this, but let me reword 'not very good' to 'not very memorable'. They just sort of happen. You might take Black Orchid as evidence for this, or maybe The Awakening - both interesting plots, but neither engaging enough to appeal to a wider audience, like the writers didn't know how to deal with the shrivelled beast they had been assigned paternity over. There are more and less successful examples - The Sontaran Experiment is entertaining enough, and I really do quite like Davison's The King's Demons - but at both of those stories we can still wave the 'insignificant' flag, because they are; just fun sideshows to prep for the next bout of drama and darkness (The Sontaran Experiment being followed by the monolithic Genesis of the Daleks, Black Orchid being followed by Adric's death in Earthshock, The Awakening being followed by all sorts of clumsy gloom in Peter Davison's final season). So what's a real treat for me about this story is that it manages to pull off something of a miracle; it exists at once as a fun sideshow and as a really pivotal story. Want to find out how? Then read on...

Coming into The Rescue, it strikes one that writer David Whitaker (later of critical acclaim with Power and Evil of the Daleks) can really nail characterisation. Vicki and Bennett are presented totally defined from very early on, the former being painted as a naive and optimistic child, and the latter as a gruff, tough survivor. The great thing about Whitaker, though, is the way he's able to blend this characterisation with exposition; Vicki says there's a rescue ship coming, Bennett thinks not, their ship's been crashed a long time, Bennett warns of Koquillion, an unknown menace, and all before you notice that it's happening. It's all played well, too - Maureen O'Brien shines as Vicki from the off, and delivers on the unspoken promise of not only replacement, but betterment as companion. I've always preferred Vicki to Susan, and I think that's just because she's more interesting to me; Susan is always stuck in the mold of being 'the granddaughter', whereas Vicki can be whoever and do whatever she wants. She also comes from a whole other era and culture to our own and to the Doctor's, giving her (interestingly) a solid grounding in a totally fictional reality. Plus her father's dead. So that's... new.

Talking about relationships (and, specifically, of Susan) it's really fascinating and sort of tragic to see the Doctor still dealing with her departure from the end of the previous story. He's changed from the rough-tongued old man of science we have known previously; he talks more to himself here than to his companions, reminiscing in a melancholic way. He stays in the TARDIS while the others investigate, having already fallen asleep at the wheel. Here, it is Barbara and Ian who voice the viewer's own concerns for the Doctor's welfare, acting as narrators-by-proxy to his behaviour; their separation from him also allows both to get into a bit of trouble with Koquillion, which moves the plot along nicely.

But the star of this episode, and indeed of the story, is Hartnell himself. He carries his scenes with such a likeable wit but also plays heavily on the character's emotional state, calling for Susan to open the doors before remembering her absence. However much he shrugs off the pain, you can see that he's finding it difficult to go on with such a vital part of him missing, and when Barbara offers to open the doors instead, it ages him for the audience - almost like she's offering to help him with some heavy shopping. It seems the loss of Susan, somebody who was so close, really has had an impact on our Doctor.

But the storyline can't sit around and wait for a Time Lord to get over his troubles; soon Barbara has been pushed off a precipice and Ian has been trapped in a cave, both by Koquillion, a native menace we've come to fear from Vicki and Bennett. Now I'm of mixed opinions about Koquillion as we originally meet him; the design of the mask is certainly new, and more than a little bit off-putting, and he seems particularly malevolent, but the reedy RP vocals make it difficult for me to bear watching sometimes. He's definitely a bastard though; from his mistreating of Vicki to his attack on Barbara to his meddling in the affairs of the Doctor and Ian, you really get the feeling that Koquillion is the villain of the piece (and, to an extent, he is - more on this later).

The Doctor and Ian's share of the story, meanwhile, has the chance to explore (but not to occupy and urbanise) the previously mentioned 'fun sideshow' territory, which Whitaker takes to with glee. Not only do we have a rocky ledge, there's also extending spikes, booby-traps, mysterious doors and a mer-Clanger! Yes! Mer-Clanger!

Honestly though, this story is such a wonderful mix of everything Doctor Who needs to be; where we meet pulpy action and peril there is always an equal measure of clever narrative trickery and heartwarming dialogue waiting just around the corner. Barbara might kill Sandy the Sand Monster with a flare gun, but no sooner has the smoke cleared than Vicki is berating her for murdering her pet; nothing is as expected in this world, and nothing is less expected than the outstanding plot twist we finally get at the end of part two - for those who haven't watched, watch now and then return - a plot twist which gives The Rescue a leg up to the heights, which genuinely takes one by surprise.

Bennett, the crippled survivor of Vicki's space crash, is Koquillion. It's a mask. It's a cover story. And with a happy sigh, all is redeemed; so what if the Koquillion costume wasn't great - it's a carnival outfit! So what if Koquillion should have killed Bennett and Vicki already - he was Bennett! Murderous, genocidal, sadistic Bennett, who tormented a young girl and slaughtered a species to cover up his own horrific crimes. In terms of subversions of expectation, it doesn't come much better than this.

Except Vicki didn't notice that it was a carnival mask for like, what, however long the ship's been crashed. But let's not dwell.

Let me wind back to Hartnell quickly, and then fast-forward again. I love him in this. I think it's one of his very best stories, and surely one of his best performances on the show. There's just something there that we haven't seen before, save for in uncharacteristic bouts. It's a magic kind of warmth. He's got that Hartnell glint in his eye. The way he waves away Barbara and Ian to speak with Vicki alone, smiling with such reassurance, comforting her, yes, but also really making a friend in her. Or rather, making a friend in him in her. The way he stands with her at the end and gives her the space to decide whether or not she wants to come with them, because he has so much affection for her, and why not? She's come to him when he needed her most, just when he's been left on his own - Vicki is his salvation, and he revels in it.

And so this talk of salvation brings me back to the future (I've been writing at 88 miles per hour) and the climax, because it is not until here, at the end of the adventure, that we finally witness Hartnell's (and indeed the Doctor's) ultimate transformation - the exact moment where he transcends the confines of being a mere protagonist and becomes, for the next forty-eight years and (we hope) for forty-eight years more, a hero.

I probably sound very sentimental, and I am, but I think that this episode is worthy of the praise. It's just something new in the Doctor's manner when he faces down Koquillion/Bennett in the temple - a new confidence and sense of good and right. It is here again that Whitaker shines as a writer; 'This used to be the peoples' hall of justice - rather fitting, in the circumstances, I think. Don't you?' That's a line that Matt Smith could have said in 2010, that Peter Capaldi wouldn't sound odd purring at Missy or the Daleks - any Doctor could have said those words. Any of them. And that's why Whitaker's writing here is so quintessentially Doctor Who: he's shaping the character that will run underneath the performance of every actor to come, like a subterranean current of good. He's moulding the Doctor into what he knows he should be. Later he will mould the Daleks into what he knows they should be. And every damn time he gets it exactly spot on. So thank you Mr Whitaker; a true and oft unsung hero yourself.

Last Words?

This must be one of my very favourite Hartnell stories, and to justify that I could bring up just about any aspect of it.

I could talk about the performances of Maureen O'Brien and Ray Barrett. I could talk about Barbara elbowing Ian in the ribs when Vicki calls her old. I could talk about the Doctor's sadness, and his ultimate metamorphosis into the character we know today. I could talk about the set of the temple at the end, about the shock reveal of the natives (who are apparently going to have a crack at repopulating Dido without women), about the all-guns-blazing finale. I could talk about Hartnell for hours.

But instead, I'm going to leave you with another extract of dialogue, this time from near the very end of this story, with which David Whitaker sums up both the Doctor, the companion, the quality of the episode and the show in its entirety. So here's that, and see you next time.

'We can travel anywhere and everywhere in that old box, as you call it. Regardless of space and time.'

'So it really is a time machine?'

'And if you like adventure, my dear, I can promise you an abundance of it.'

Looking Back: The Leisure Hive

So this is an interesting one.

'The Leisure Hive' is the start of Tom Baker's final season as the Doctor, which is kind of big in itself. Baker had been around for six years at this point, which is a long time for anyone to be in anything, regardless of how demanding a role like the Doctor must be. It was the eighties, things were changing, and what was to prove a most important change was the handover of Doctor Who from producer Graham Williams to Jonathan Nathan-Turner. If you've read this blog's look at 'Horror of Fang Rock' you'll know that I don't really like the Williams era. Things got bad. I mean, 'Underworld' happened. 'The Invasion of Time' somehow occurred. It's hard to love the era that took us out of Hinchcliffe and Holmes, we're still missing the heady highs of the dark and stormy night before. Williams was the hangover of Hinchcliffe, but now Williams was gone - and something very different was on its way.

Considering this is the beginning of pretty much a ten-year run as producer for Nathan-Turner, it's an inauspicious start beneath the window dressing. And I say window dressing because to mask the truth of the matter (which is that 'The Leisure Hive' isn't the best story ever - spoilers) there is a metric tonne of mad makeover to distract the unwary audience with pretty lights and smoke and mirrors. Tom Baker has a new costume. The opening sequence is flashy and modern, K-9 explodes in literally the first five minutes. It's all in motion and a huge upheaval to launch Doctor Who into 1980, to treat the wounds of the Williams dip and reinvigorate the traditional elements of the show, like the titles and the music. It's like regeneration. And despite 'The Leisure Hive's number of flaws (which will be expanded on, because they make me sad), what we have here is actually a really exciting transition story, a move into the future, a breath of fresh air if you're used to the restrictions of the previous three seasons. Let's see how it all went.

So I suppose I should get this bit out of the way, because everybody goes on about it. The opening shot of this story is madly long. It just doesn't end. You keep thinking it will, but it doesn't. The camera just keeps crawling on, across all the pretty beach tents. Seemingly forever. The viewer will be found a skeletal husk lingering in a musty armchair before they can finally glimpse the rest of this four-part story. Beach tent, beach tent, beach tent.
This aside, the first scene of 'The Leisure Hive' is actually really nicely done. The Brighton Pier setting feels well-tailored to our Romana/Doctor dynamic, and K-9 is always fun - just not for very long, here, as he's soon trundling contentedly towards his salty doom. But we can live with that, K-9 will be repaired in a few stories time. The real thing to watch out for here is the banter between Tom Baker and Lalla Ward, who are lovely together when they're given the chance. The misty pier in the background, the mention of a trip to the legendary Leisure Hive, the Doctor's new maroon coat and scarf (which I love, unconditionally) - it's all shaping up to be a grand adventure. And then they started talking about tachyonics.

Now, I'm sure I don't have a problem with tachyonics. Apparently it's the study of some kind of science about regenerative technology and biological interfaces and a... a biological... tachyonics... regeneration...
I really have a problem with tachyonics.
This story is pretty much built up around tachyon science, the study of it on Argolis, our setting, by the Argolins, our alien hosts, and the consequences of... doing something with it. That would be fine if they ever really explained what tachyonics are. Because they don't. We don't know what they are. Nobody at any point really sits down and spells it out for us, and so we have to try and keep up with terms like 'FIFO stack' and 'tachyon image' to get the weight of the whole rest of the story. It's not like writer David Fisher is a scientist! There is the line 'reptiles are immune to radiation'. Agh, David! Stop writing nonsense!
But beyond the silly science, there are some nice touches to Argolis. The lifespans and deaths of the Argolins are novel, and add a healthy level of tension to proceedings. I like the idea of the Hive, a survival-bunker-cum-holiday-hotspot-cum-science-hub, I like the history of the planet, the shuttles arriving every few minutes, I like the dark secrets and hidden agendas. I love that these people were pretty much wiped out in a war that lasted twenty minutes. I just wish I knew what the hell was going on most of the time.

Purely in terms of design and aesthetic, I find it hard to know where I stand with this story. I like the design of the Argolins, because it's new and original, and I like the exterior shots of the Hive because it's spiky and cool and memorable, but beyond that... I just feel like the sets don't have ambition. There aren't enough new ideas, bar some little things like the video link to Earth and the windows which provide for some nice lighting effects. This place is supposed to be a Hive, isn't it? Make it more subterranean, more natural and organic, that would look cool. It would suit the Argolins. Pull a 'Curse of Peladon', contrast the modern and clean with the ancient and alien. Build us a world that feels real, not like five studio sets. Everything is too produced and colourful, and though the Argolins are supposed to be great intellectuals, I don't buy it. It looks like a science museum from the nineties in a film from the sixties, redesigned in 1980 but on a budget that couldn't buy half a Freddo and a smelly sticker. It's distracting.
Despite the lack of character in the sets, though, there's a good atmosphere throughout most of this story, and that's largely due to the various stages of lighting we get to see. The evening sun spilling into the boardroom, the shady main hall at night, the Argolin Dawn. To be able to observe this world all through a day is really a treat, and a lot of credit has to go to director Lovett Bickford for his really very unusual work here. The shots are interestingly composed. Characters are in shadow and things happen from angles we're not used to, lit spectacularly. It's a wonder Bickford never came back.

Now however much the casual viewer might be baffled by the tedious technicalities of tachyonics, there is certainly something to be swayed by in 'The Leisure Hive', and that's the Foamasi. From the off, the Foamasi are by far the most gripping part of the story, shot only by their chubby shadows and twirly nipply eyes and sequinned badger claws until the entry of one later on, which is unfortunately hashed. What makes the Foamasi great, though (despite the sumo-chaffinch-Wirrn-spawn-pin-cushion look), is their sheer authenticity as a race - their chittering birdcall language is endearing but also menacing, their design the same when shot from the right angles. The very fact that there are splinter groups and political parties and individuals makes them more tangible and exciting. The West Lodge is a threat. The discovery of Klout and implied murder of Brock and Stimson is chilling, the way it's shot and dealt with horrific. They find Klout's skin in a wardrobe, empty. It's absolutely engaging.
Unfortunately, despite the Foamasi being so pivotal to the viewer's continued endurance of the story, they appear to be existing on a separate plane, and their share of the mystery is dealt with by the end of episode three, leaving tachyonics and Pangol and the time experiments. You remember, those things we don't understand and aren't interested in.

Really, our investment in the story plummets for the last twenty-five minutes. We don't know what a jargon wafer is, we don't care anymore what Pangol is up to, because all the science stuff crucial to his plan is so desperately incomprehensible we have no idea what to think. We're just watching as things happen, without much interest, until the end, which feels almost rushed. There's some nice music work and continued direction, David Haig and Adrienne Corri are still wonderful as Pangol and Mena, but it just drops, and drops out of our reach. And though it's new, and fresh, and a riot compared to some of the lesser Williams stories, it just ceases to work. Which is a shame, because the first three parts were actually quite good.

Last Words?

As minute one for the Jonathan Nathan-Turner era, this story can be a little underwhelming.

That isn't to say it's bad. It's not bad, it's excellently directed and acted, exquisitely lit and interestingly plotted. There are some lovely character moments, especially concerning the aged love of Mena and Hardin, which is really nice. Tom Baker and Lalla Ward shine together, as usual. The Foamasi are great fun.
It just gets a bit lost.
It's a real shame, because 'The Leisure Hive' actually does get a lot of things right, but we can't be expected to invest totally in a story we can't understand. David Fisher's script works well with the Foamasi and that conflict, but when it comes to tachyonics and the whole time thing it just becomes too centred around making itself look clever with big science and long words. But it's a point that this might be down to incoming script editor Christopher Bidmead, who liked all that 'high concept' stuff. And, under the influence of JNT and Bidmead, that's often a weakness of the era as a whole, so maybe this is actually a good ambassador for what's to come, who knows. It's just damaging to this story though, because all that stuff with the Foamasi? The twenty-minute war, the West Lodge? That's all damn good.
Ah, pif paf. C'est la vie. I'm done here.

Favourites from the Infernoverse! - Seven

The SYLVESTER McCOY Era - 1987 to 1989

1. 'The Curse of Fenric' - an incredibly modern story, the quality of which I always seem to forget. A slow burn, certainly, but well worth fighting through a few bad scenes to the climax, which is spectacular, charged and cathartic. A story which highlights the unique relationship shared by the Seventh Doctor and Ace, and also the tragedy of the termination of the show. Brill.

2. 'Remembrance of the Daleks' - another story highlighting the wonderful and interesting directions in which the classic series was headed towards its untimely end. In turns comical, involved and nostalgic, with Daleks aplenty and a stellar guest cast. One for the discussions.

3. 'Dragonfire' - a very silly, intriguing and swashbuckling quest with a lot of ice puns and some really fantastic model sequences. The introduction of Ace, the surprisingly lovely departure of Mel, a friendly dragon and a story that just leaves a smile on your face.

4. 'Ghostlight' - an involving, engaging, impenetrable thicket of a story in which great characterisation, an intelligent script and a spooky atmosphere compensate for almost total unintelligibility. A very interesting watch with chills on the side.

5. 'Battlefield' - the heroic last bow of the Brigadier, an interesting and gripping tale, a fascinating insight into the Doctor's personal timeline. Lots of gratuitous but deserved use of Arthurian legend, some nice effects and wonderful scenes, a little disjointed and awkward maybe. Cheesy at the end, my god, but good dialogue and good fun if you're in the right mood.

Favourites from the Infernoverse! - Six

The COLIN BAKER Era - 1984 to 1986

1. 'Revelation of the Daleks' - a grisly rematch with the classic foe for a new Doctor. Baker is very good, the Daleks are different and refreshing, possibly the second best Davros story to 'Genesis'. Some nice double acts (Orcini and Bostok, Kara and her Vogel), very nice dialogue and diabolical morals.

2. 'Attack of the Cybermen' - awful music, tenuous plot, atrocious eighties vibe to begin, but picks up all the way through until the surprisingly intense and ultimately emotional endgame redeems earlier mistakes. Very, very enjoyable.

3. 'The Two Doctors' - a nice romp unfortunately tempered by chronic wheelspinning. Great Robert Holmes script, Troughton's last reappearance and a fitting tribute to his Doctor, some good Sontarans and an interesting new enemy. Dark, very funny, but the quality is restricted largely to the final part.

4. 'Mindwarp' - the best contribution from the horrible monster that is 'The Trial of a Timelord', a description that really isn't saying very much at all. Quite well done and acted, a welcome return for Sil (even if he's underused) and a really shocking companion death. Not that good, but better by half than its contemporaries.

5.'Vengeance on Varos' - an interesting-ish look at television culture with some decent token world-building, a great villain in Sil. Here mostly because I have to fill spaces in this list, and decent enough if caught at the right time.

Favourites from the Infernoverse! - Five

The PETER DAVISON Era - 1981 to 1984

1. 'The Caves of Androzani' - Peter Davison's swansong, bumped up to first because, well - it's obscenely good. Stunning direction, a fantastic script from Robert Holmes, atmospheric locations and sets and first and third cliffhangers that will never fail to amaze. A hopelessly dark and wonderfully human adventure that outstrips all of its contemporaries, in an unforgettable way.

2. 'Earthshock' - one of my very favourite Doctor Who stories, and the first I ever watched. A cracking plot, consistent design work, the surprise return of an old foe, a striking and harrowing tragedy - simply everything Who needs to be, if sometimes a little vanilla. Great for those who have never experienced the classic show before.

3. 'The King's Demons' - why do I like this so much? Because it's harmless - a fun interlude into the middle ages with the Master, swordfights and the introduction of creepy Kamelion. Don't go looking for anything groundbreaking, just a satisfying little jolly. And atmospheric location work to boot.

4. 'Snakedance' - a sequel to the perplexing 'Kinda', featuring the same villain. Great performances all round, praise especially to Janet Fielding as Tegan and the Mara. Look out for a young Martin Clunes, an exciting toga, some enchanting set and prop design and a knockout first cliffhanger. Drops a little towards the end, and spends too long in the same cell.

5. 'The Five Doctors' - some very questionable decisions in this feature-length special, but a fun time all the same. Watch for Patrick Troughton, Jon Pertwee and Nicholas Courtney and the Cybermen scenes. Nicely shot, scripted well enough - an inescapably well-meaning and watchable anniversary adventure.

Favourites from the Infernoverse! - Four

The TOM BAKER Era - 1975 to 1980

1. (TIED) 'The Robots of Death' - quite simply one of the finest Doctor Who stories ever produced - exquisite in set and costume design, script, acting, the best cliffhangers of the time. Just incredible.

1. (TIED) 'Pyramids of Mars' - a more lighthearted romp, but with appropriate stakes - quintessential Baker and Elizabeth Sladen shines, the plot and effects are impressive, the villains memorable - really extraordinary.

1. (TIED) 'Genesis of the Daleks' - both the best title and the best story of Tom Baker's first season, a real epic, rated consistently amongst the top serials in Doctor Who polls. The first Davros, the creation of the Daleks and six episodes of pure, brilliant brilliance.

2. 'City of Death' - probably the most fun you'll ever have with a Doctor Who story - really hilarious and with a tight plot and excellent cast. Cameos by John Cleese and Eleanor Bron, great villain, Paris, the Mona Lisa, science fiction comedy genius.

3. 'The Ark in Space' - an unsettling, claustrophobic horror from the off, with memorable speeches and monsters, and a location so good they used it again. In the same season.

4. 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang' - an only slightly racist exploit into Victorian London. Marvellous dialogue, utterly lavish sets/costumes and top acting - very authentic feeling, very classic, the perfect send-off for the Hinchcliffe/Holmes era.

5. 'Horror of Fang Rock' - again claustrophobic and beautifully physically realised in period style. Contained within itself, but in a really satisfying way.

6. 'The Seeds of Doom' - an intercontinental adventure featuring a lot of plants and men with guns. Camp Freddy from The Italian Job tries to release a dangerous alien herb onto the world with gripping and often excellent consequences.

7. 'The Hand of Fear' - Elizabeth Sladen's last turn as Sarah Jane Smith, a tearjerking finale to her time on Doctor Who with its own valid plot and villain. Sometimes feels a little disjointed, but a great ride all the same.

8. 'The Deadly Assassin' - an refreshing take on Time Lord lore, the reappearance of the Master (but slimy), in turns scary, funny, intelligent and sickening. Be prepared for a lack of companion and excess of exposition.

9. 'The Brain of Morbius' - a scary and simple story with impressive sets, intriguing characters, good dilemmas. Borrows heavily and successfully from classical gothic horror tropes, but can be a little too to-and-fro, in an occasionally trying manner.

10. 'Terror of the Zygons' - a jumping-on point for gothic horror in the show. Evocative imagery and motifs, really scary sequences and some of the best-designed and effective alien designs the series has to offer. A little hampered by some odd choices further in and weak motives for the antagonists.