|Only Doctor Who would finally give aliens masks where|
they can have facial expressions, then have them
just look tired and busy all the time.
The day before Pink Floyd's release, on the other hand, came Thomas Pynchon's release of Gravity's Rainbow. Other non-musical events of the six weeks included voters in Northern Ireland voting to remain part of the UK (Irish nationalists supported a boycott of the referendum), while IRA bombs go off in London. The Governor of Bermuda is assassinated by a small Bermudan black nationalist group. The Watergate scandal begins to blossom in the news, while in the UK is the Lofthouse Colliery disaster, a mining accident in which seven coal workers died in West Yorkshire.
On television we have Frontier in Space, the annual Malcolm Hulke Lizard People Extravaganza. As with all of Season Ten, there's more going on here than in similar stories from past seasons. Which is good. One could be forgiven for thinking that we've been here before, after all. The Master manipulating two parties into a conflict for his own benefit. Misunderstandings between humans and lizard people. Pig-headed military figures. I'd link those phrases to the appropriate Hulke stories, but one is spoiled for choice - literally every Hulke story to date has qualified for at least two of that list.
The thing about the Pertwee era is that in a real sense, it builds logically and inexorably towards a peak in Season Ten. To give a sort of map of the era, at least for our purposes here, it spends its first three years working out a bundle of anxieties and contradictions. Then its last two seasons each end up embodying one half of that split, with Season Ten as the brilliant glam monument and Season Eleven basically flopping around like a dead fish. This is a strange split. It's not that Season Ten is doing something massively different from the seasons on either side of it. Season Nine has its Hulke lizard story. Season Eleven has its Hulke lizard story.
But for some odd, ineffable reason, perhaps down to nothing more than the lingering energy of the madcap singularity that was The Three Doctors, perhaps down to Doctor Who just being in the exact right place to catch a social wave, the show is on fire in 1973. Everything they try comes off, even when (as in the next story), it has no right to. Yes, we'll eventually get to our traditional Sloman Curate's Egg, but even that's good this year, as these things go. So here we get the Hulke story where every part just works.
Part of this is that Hulke, who was always chomping at the bit for the earthbound format's demise, is clearly giddy to have a TARDIS to play with again. The appeal of the TARDIS has always been more than just its ability to go anywhere. Equally important is its ability to leave anywhere - to keep the show from being trapped in one premise for too long. Instead it gets to come up with a neat idea, explore the major consequences and highlights of the idea, and get out before things get too boring.
Just as last time we talked about the comparative ordinariness of situations the TARDIS landed in in its early days, this time we should remind ourselves of the sort of genre romps that characterized the early days of the show - most obviously things like The Gunfighters or The Smugglers, but also things like The Web Planet or the slightly later The Enemy of the World. What these stories have in common is that they all take a high concept setting, explore the high points of dropping the Doctor into that setting, and then end and allow the show to move on to something else. This is one of the basic modes of operation for Doctor Who: drop the Doctor into X, where X is something well known and pre-existing, then pull him out when you've used up your best ideas on that.
So here we get the Doctor thrown into a good old fashioned sci-fi space opera. And it's delightful. Both Pertwee and Manning give the sense of having fun in this story to a degree that they haven't really before, and it carries over to the characters. At one point, upon realizing that an unknown agent is using the Ogrons to try to spark a galactic war between the Human and Draconian empires and that this unknown agent has stolen the TARDIS, the Doctor and Jo seem to be kind of chuffed about it, as if they're glad to be having some fun. Likewise, while the Doctor is emphatic and furious as the leaders of Earth and Draconia ignore his warnings, he clearly takes a real joy in repeatedly breaking their mind probes.
On top of that you've got the basic thrill in the scope of the story. And not only in terms of its steadily escalating scale, going from being concerned about Ogrons raiding ships and a diplomatic crisis to being bout chasing the Daleks, the Master, and the Ogrons around in a desperate attempt to stop an all-out war. The scale and escalation is wonderful, and we'll talk about the absolutely wonderful build and twists of this in a bit, but equally impressive is the degree to which this story moves around. Multiple space-ships, several Earth locations, the homeworld of the Draconians, and the homeworld of the Ogrons are all traveled to, giving this story a sort of giddy sense of scope and wonder.
Yes, the Draconians are just the Japanese in lizard costumes, but again, that curious tendency of Season Ten to just get on with it and make it work is on full display, with the Draconians being the beneficiaries both of Hulke’s hobby horse of making alien species actually have multiple characters with distinct personalities and perspectives instead of a hive mind and from costume designers who managed to give them the ability to still have facial expressions. The masks are as much a high point of the Pertwee era’s effects as the CSO in Carnival of Monsters is a low point. (Legend, used here in the sense of “the stories Jon Pertwee told over and over again in every interview and convention appearance,” claims that Pertwee, during lunch, got to talking to one of the Draconian actors and forgot he was talking to a man in a costume.)
And yes, two empires on the brink of war is not a particularly original concept so much as it’s the most generic pulp sci-fi imaginable. But Doctor Who has never relied entirely or even primarily on original concepts. Yes, it uses them, and when it does it’s usually wonderful - case in point, the last story. But just as often and just as validly, Doctor Who goes with juxtaposing two concepts that are, on their own, fairly normal, but that don’t normally go together. So while warring space empires are nothing new, they’re also not something we’ve see the Doctor running around in the middle of, and they’re certainly not something we’ve seen Pertwee’s drag action hero running around in.
Which is to say that this is a story that is much more than the sum of its parts, and another sadly overlooked gem of Season Ten. On paper it’s filler - a five and a half episode runaround before the Daleks show up and we get a ten minute trailer for the next story without really resolving the plot of this one. But in execution, it’s a masterful slow build that lets the dramatic tension reach its breaking point before finally exploding in a genuinely unexpected direction.
We should talk here, then, about the Master. For the first time in Doctor Who history, he’s actually used as the surprise reveal that eventually becomes so tiresomely standard. But here it’s wonderfully fresh, with the Master being put into an already bad situation and immediately making it worse for everyone. This is the surprise reveal that every subsequent Master story tries and usually fails to equal.
The thing is, if we’re being honest, it’s a bit of a move of desperation. That doesn’t make it any less brilliant or effective - it’s definitely both. But on the other hand, in less than two and a half years, Roger Delgado appears in thirty-nine episodes of Doctor Who. In comparison, Vicki only appears in thirty-eight episodes total, and in the twenty-five months after their first appearances the Daleks and Cybermen appeared in thirty-two and twenty-six episodes respectively. While I love Delgado’s Master, the fact remains that this is a staggering level of frequency for one villain played by one actor.
One result of this is that, inevitably, and with no particular story being at fault, the Master has gone from being a character who transgresses against the narrative and throws it into chaos to being virtually the most predictable character on the show. Where Jo has found more and more outlandish and remarkable ways to break the rules of the narrative, the Master, because he always needs to be defeated, has been trapped in an increasingly small set of schemes. As we feared when it happened, there was nowhere to go but down once he summoned the Devil.
And so introducing him as a surprise twist has to be taken as a survival mechanism - a clever but desperate attempt to find a way to get the character to be unexpected and threatening again instead of a chump who will be defeated the same way he’s always defeated - when his ambitious goes too far and his scheme backfires. Which is how he’s been defeated in every prior story save for The Claws of Axos, whether because his allies betray him (Terror of the Autons, The Sea Devils), because some all-powerful being he sought to control tells him to piss off (Colony in Space, The Daemons, The Time Monster), or because the Doctor successfully turns his own plan against him (The Mind of Evil, and, ultimately, here).
And here we’re forced into a really awkward situation where we have to be very careful about speaking unkindly of the dead. I mean, not that I’ve been hesitant in slamming Barry Letts, Jon Pertwee, or William Hartnell when they’ve screwed up, but Delgado is different. Delgado died far too young, and his death is the sole reason this story is his last appearance. His contributions to the show were uniformly fantastic, and even in a problematic story like The Time Monster, Delgado does an incredible amount with what can charitably be called difficult writing to work with. I have nothing bad to say about Delgado whatsoever, and strictly in terms of the actor himself, it’s an appalling tragedy that his last appearance should be a poorly edited scene with a bunch of grunting monkey aliens as opposed to a proper, grand farewell.
That said, in terms of the Master, this is the best thing that could have happened to him. First of all, let’s remember the story that would have been his farewell had he not been killed in a car crash. A Sloman epic in which we were to learn that the Master is literally the Doctor’s dark side and where the Doctor would fail to save him and be haunted by the guilt. This sounds hackneyed enough reading about it. Imagining it written with the staggering haphazardness of the Sloman/Letts team is simply excruciating. It is impossible to watch The Time Monster or even The Daemons and imagine that this team could have made a story like that work, because they completely botched the dramatic beats and tension of both previous Doctor/Master stories they attempted.
If we assume, as it seems like we have to, that Delgado’s intended final story would have been a train wreck, if nothing else the fact that he got to go out in a clever Malcolm Hulke story instead has to be taken as something of a blessing. Frankly, the character is probably more beloved for having avoided that disaster in the making.
But more to the point, the Master was increasingly starting to fail as a character. As I said, he’d been overexposed without enough variety or new ideas, and ever since The Sea Devils, where he ended up badly dumbing down the moral complexity of what could have otherwise been an extremely successful updating and streamlining of the brilliant but flawed The Silurians, his appearances have been a mixed blessing at best. Delgado is great, but his character hasn’t helped a story in some time.
Hulke, to his credit, actually seems aware of that. Certainly he recognizes that the Master and Jo, introduced in the same story, have expanded in different directions. The Master has progressively become a more and more limited character while Jo has become more transgressive and capable of contorting the narrative. And so in this story the Master attempts to recycle his first trick with Jo and hypnotize her. And she casually kicks his ass. Even when he later tries to reassert his dominance over her by granting her a fake escape to trap the Doctor, it’s rubbish on his part. Yes, Jo led the Doctor to an Ogron ambush, but the fact of the matter is, the Doctor would have gone to rescue Jo even if he had known about the ambush. He was looking for the base and Jo told him where it was. Had she not escaped, he’d have found the base and still been ambushed by the Ogrons. The Master’s “tricking” of Jo has zero effect.
But more importantly, Hulke ends up executing a hilarious and brilliant snub on the overused character. Three episodes after his surprise unveiling as the story’s real villain he gets upstaged by another surprise reveal in which it turns out that he’s not the real villain, the Daleks are. And then he gets shoved offstage unceremoniously so we can have the real star attraction: Dalek fighting! It’s a bit of cynicism worthy of Robert Holmes, but it’s spot on. If nothing else, the reverse reveal - the Daleks are secretly working for the Master - would have been a crushing anticlimax. Hulke is right. The Master is small potatoes compared to Daleks.
So while it’s an awful ending for a great actor, for a character that, largely due to the mistakes of Sloman and Letts, has passed his peak and begun to become a liability, there’s a delightful justice in shoving him offstage in favor of a better foe for the Doctor. If nothing else, for better or worse the character’s survival past Delgado hinges entirely on the fact that he got this sort of unsatisfying abandonment instead of a capstone epic. Because there was something unfinished about the Master, he came back.
But even beyond that, there’s a sense that in that moment the show is making a real and meaningful decision about what it is. The Master, as a character, existed in part because by trapping the Doctor on Earth the show lost one of its major engines to bring in strange and unusual things into the plot. So it created a character who would engage in bewildering schemes that make the stories more exciting. But now that the show is back in space, the Master is a crutch - a way of padding out a story that’s run out of steam. Hulke makes it work here, but it works because it’s the first time it’s happened. The entire Ainley era of the character is a sobering reminder of what happens when this approach becomes the norm.
So instead the show turns away from that approach and towards a belief that the TARDIS means that you don’t need gimmick characters to jumpstart the plot. Instead we turn to the first great monster of Doctor Who and prepare for the encounter that we were teased and denied last time they appeared. It’s time for a big ‘ol Dalek story the likes of which we haven’t seen since 1966.
Because that’s the other thing about this story. The Dalek reveal is, in fact, absolutely brilliant. For one thing, given a need to upstage the Master, the Daleks were literally the only things that could do that. For another, it’s just the right thing to do. Especially since their last appearance was such a tease, having restored the Doctor and the premise of the show, one of the things the show needs to do as a part of showing that it has fully reclaimed its own mantle is to show that it can still do the Daleks.
It is, after all, they who upstage the Master and take over the story. They are, in this regard, the last true threat the show has - characters that can plow in and completely unhinge and distort the narrative. Their appearance is a delicious throwing down of the gauntlet - a case of the show saying “Bah, this situation is too easy for the Doctor to get out of. Let’s see him get out of this!” And Friday, we’ll see how he does.