|
|
|
13th July , 2009
machineiv
 | 11:07 am - I, and other people, got nominated for Ennies.
If you're not familiar, the Ennies are the huge gaming industry awards given out at Gen Con every year.
I got nominated for my PDF product "Razorkids" for Hunter.
I'll let people know when voting comes up, but you all need to vote the fuck out of it.
Also, a number of WW products got nominated, from various awesome authors.
Go check it out.
|
doctor_sentence
 | 03:34 pm - Doctor Who Review Archive: Story L
A spoiler warning for a TV show that was over 5 years old by the time I was born? Yes, actually. For years this story (generally known as The Rescue, even though that's the title of the seventh episode of the first Dalek story - is it any wonder I'm using the production codes to identify them at this stage?) has been unfairly dismissed by fans based on wrongful assumptions derived from foreknowledge of one plot element, so I’m hiding this review behind a LiveJournal cut just in case anyone reading this hasn’t yet seen the story (or had its plot given away to them) and might want to. ( ”Review.” )
|
12th July , 2009
tcpip
 | 09:51 pm - Management studies, Environmental United Fronts?
I have now read through about half of my textbooks for Financial Management and Management Perspectives and I have to conclude with something that I always suspected; management (at least the theory side) is easy or, more to the point, as a academic discipline it is rather lightweight (to this day, Peter Drucker is the only figure I can think of being worthy of note). Of course, I do come to this with decades of prior experience in the social sciences including a fair serve of economics, so perhaps it's just relatively easy given that background. Within the mindset however, I've also been reading Stephan Covey's popular self-help book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. I am usually extremely cynical of the entire genre of such texts, but to give Cobey his due, he did a great deal of research on the characteristics of 'great leaders' and came to the conclusion is that it was their constant orientation towards universal moral principles that was their defining quality. A critic of "personality ethics" over "principle ethics", Covey quotes from the Marxist psychoanalyst Erich Fromm, radicals like Thomas Paine and Henry David Thoreau and existentialists like Victor Frankl.
Attended a Labor Party branch meeting on Wednesday; speaker was from the Alternative Technology Association explaining the Federal governments subsidy and loans schemes for those who wish to put in solar hot water, insulation, energy efficient globes etc into their home (whether owned or rented). I consider such plans to good examples of interventionist, socialist economics; directed towards reducing the negative externalities and where the long-term savings far exceed the short-term costs. It strikes me that this has come through a reformist programme, despite the extra-parliamentary advocacy of environmentalist causes; and it makes me wonder how many of the far left have ever taken seriously Trotsky's theory of the united front - and what can be done about this. Of course, the key problem it is a united front of worker's organisations against the bourgeoisie; neglecting, yet again, the important possibility of the proletariat and bourgeoisie united against the landlord monarchs.
|
11th July , 2009
doctor_sentence
| 03:02 pm - Doctor Who Review Archive: Story K
World's End
The opening scene here is a lot grimmer than any that have gone before, immediately establishing an atmosphere of doom and wrongness. I don’t know if there’s an attempt at some dark humour in having the man flagrantly disobey the sign in the manner that he commits suicide, but if there is, the bleakness of the situation robs it of any comedy.
Ian and Barbara’s reaction to possibly being home is realistic. They want to believe that they’ve been returned to the right time and place, even to the extent of trying to ignore the immediate signs that something is wrong, but they’re still cautious, unable to completely deny the possibility that the Doctor has failed to bring them back whence he abducted them.
The near-deserted location and the ruins are distinctly eerie, and Francis Chagrin’s incidentals accentuate the tension as the TARDIS crew start to find out more about the world in which they have arrived. Most of the sets are very convincing, and at times it’s hard to be sure if a scene has been recorded in studio or on location.
As in the previous Dalek adventure, the Doctor is the most curious of the regulars. Ian’s reluctance to find out what has befallen London is understandable: this disaster is all a little too close to home. With his last two adventures in Earth’s past both having prompted discussion on the impossibility of changing history, he’d know that learning what went wrong wouldn’t enable him to prevent it from happening, so why dwell on the destruction of so much that is dear to him when no good can come of it?
Another indication of how bad things are is the readiness with which the locals go for their knives. It may well be that the viewing public weren’t as concerned about such weapons in the mid-Sixties as they are nowadays, but it must still have been clear to the audience that a culture in which people regularly go about armed, and aren’t hesitant about drawing their weapons, has to be a dangerous one.
There are a few little things I could criticise about the episode. Little over five minutes in, with no obvious breaks in the narrative since everyone left the TARDIS, the Doctor claims that they’ve been there for at least a quarter of an hour. Yet again we have the regulars cut off from the TARDIS, and while the girder blocking their way is a suitably impressive obstacle, the collapse which puts it in the way is far from convincing. The year has blatantly been attached to the calendar with adhesive tape – couldn’t they have printed it onto a blank sheet and inserted the whole page? The Doctor and Ian are remarkably quick to forget their concerns about contaminants in the river when surrounded by Robomen.
Much scorn has been heaped on the cliffhanger over the years, but it’s not that difficult to come up with a reasonable explanation for the Dalek’s emergence from the water. It’s already been established that London’s bridges are in very bad condition, so if those casings are watertight, going through the river could well be the simplest way of getting across it. It’s a little slow (this bit is one of the sequences I find better in the Peter Cushing film than the original version, as the movie Dalek comes up with startling rapidity), but a powerful image none the less.
The Daleks
The development of the Doctor’s character into something more heroic continues here, as he openly defies the Daleks. He’s remarkably confident as he resolves to defeat them, considering that he’s their captive at the time. All right, so he was on the winning side the last time he encountered them, but it wasn’t an easy victory, and these Daleks clearly don’t share the last lot’s primary weakness. Maybe he’s putting on a show, aware that at this point words are the only weapon he has, and getting as much use out of them as he can.
It’s not only the Doctor who’s showing arguably misplaced optimism. Dortmun’s confidence that his new bomb will be effective against the Daleks seems more based on wishful thinking than actual data. I concede that testing it out would be risky, but nowhere near as much as sending a whole group of resistance fighters on a raid armed with weapons that have yet to be tried out against the enemy’s defences.
The voices of the Daleks this time round are nowhere near as impressive as they were in the earlier story. While I’m making unfavourable comparisons, I’ll also point out that the movie adaptation does the escape attempt and the attack on the Dalek saucer much better. The set is rather too small for such action sequences, and Richard Martin’s direction does little to compensate for its limitations.
This version of the story does have its good points, though. The description of what happens to the Robomen when their conditioning breaks down is harrowing. I also like the way that Daleks can be glimpsed going about their business outside the cell in which the Doctor, Ian and Craddock are held.
I can just about accept that Barbara’s fresh perspective on the situation could help her come up with a plan that had never occurred to anyone else, but the lack of explanation of what David wanted with the Roboman headgear is a bit careless. From a plot standpoint, the helmets need to be around to give Barbara the idea of using them as disguises, but there should also be an in-story reason for having them in the base. It would have only taken one line – something about wanting to find a way of jamming them, for example – but without any on-screen rationalisation, we’re left with just a clumsy plot device.
The process by which the Doctor obtains the key to the cell is convoluted bafflegab, and the presence of the odd scientific fact among the mumbo-jumbo doesn’t help. If anything, it runs counter to the series’ educational remit, the accurate details potentially leading viewing children to assume that the nonsensical elements are also true. While the use of intelligence tests to determine suitability for conversion into a Roboman isn’t inherently problematic (maybe the higher the intelligence, the longer it takes for them to break down and need replacing), the suggestion that this is how the worthy candidates are identified beggars belief.
Day of Reckoning
The interior of the Dalek saucer is an impressive set. I doubt that it’s intended to come across as larger than the heliport, but it certainly seems more spacious. The simple fact of its having more than one level helps, but I think the direction is, on the whole, better for the sequences inside the saucer than directly outside it.
The grim tone continues, accentuated by little details like the traumatised man cowering in the background at the rebels’ base, the bodies in the heliport and the killings of assorted stragglers, both on-screen and off. Craddock’s conversion into a Roboman is unpleasant, but treated a little too lightly. Just a short time ago he was one of Ian’s cellmates, but there’s little acknowledgement of that fact, and after his death there’s no regret expressed – he’s just dumped overboard.
This episode makes it clear just how obsessed Dortmun is. The parallels between him and Davros are no more than a consequence of Terry Nation’s fondness for reusing concepts, as this is a long time before the Kaled scientist had even been invented, but the Daleks’ being opposed by someone so like their creator is ironic despite being unintentional. There are differences too, most significantly the fact that Dortmun does feel some guilt over the lives sacrificed as a result of his obsession. It very probably motivates his own futile death, driving him to try and test out the revised design like the earlier version should have been.
It’s around this episode that the setting-up of Susan’s departure begins. Begins on screen, that is. The dialogue makes it clear that she’s already started telling David about herself, as he has no trouble accepting the possibility of leaving in the TARDIS with her and her fellow-travellers. Her argument with the Doctor, reminiscent of the one they had in Hidden Danger, is a hint that this developing relationship is more significant than, say, the one between Barbara and Ganatus. Susan is growing up (and it’s about time), and her grandfather is starting to come to terms with that fact.
This episode is also the first to really exploit the potential of location filming, as Barbara, Jenny and Dortmun’s flight through London is punctuated by shots of the Daleks by numerous landmarks. It’s a gripping sequence, the incidentals again enhancing the mood, creating a real sense that despite the familiarity of the places seen, the threat of discovery by the Daleks is always present.
Regrettably, there is one other first for Doctor Who in this episode, namely mockery of the Daleks. In the real world, humour at an enemy’s expense can be an effective weapon, but in drama it needs to be handled well to keep from undermining the threat posed by the villains. Silly moments like one Dalek’s attempted interrogation of a dummy in the museum (and a headless dummy at that) do the story no favours. At the start of the episode, the Daleks were merciless killers, and now they’re too thick to tell the difference between inanimate objects and real people. The menace is diminished by turning the bad guys into idiots who could be outwitted by a couple of short planks.
The End of Tomorrow
The episode titles are becoming meaningless. While the previous one, Day of Reckoning, could be referring to some element of the episode’s content – perhaps Dortmun’s confrontation with the Daleks – The End of Tomorrow has no obvious bearing on anything at all. At best it could be considered quasi-poetic hyperbole, taking ‘tomorrow’ as referring to the future and massively overstating the effect of the Daleks’ bombs.
While this episode has the potential to be very exciting, its set pieces don’t work as well as they should. The defusing of the bomb is disappointingly short on tension. For starters, there’s none of the incidental music that’s done so much to enhance the mood elsewhere in the story. Then there’s the fact that we never see what these bombs can do –dialogue tells us that London is in flames, but there’s no sense of any destruction raging off-screen. The bomb itself neither looks nor sounds remotely menacing. It might have worked better for some of the original audience, bringing back memories of unexploded bombs from the Blitz, but having had no experience of such things myself, I don’t know how much like the genuine article it is. The actors’ performances don’t help sell the threat, either. Carole Ann Ford at least tries, but the effect is diluted by Susan’s being so prone to fits of hysterics anyway.
Barbara and Jenny’s smashing through the Dalek blockade is a good deal more effective, but it’d be much more exciting if the Daleks’ weapons were seen to have any effect on the dustcart. The subsequent attack by saucer isn’t remotely convincing, though. It might have looked a bit better before the Restoration Team cleaned up the print, but on DVD enough of the background can be made out to destroy any illusion that the saucer prop is in motion. While the explosion of the model truck isn’t bad, it seems odd not to see any flames coming from the wreckage.
The alligator attack in the sewers is even more poorly realised. The cut in the ladder is clear to see, and the ladder stays too close to the wall to give any impression that Susan is in danger. At that angle she shouldn’t even have to stretch her legs to reach the rungs and secure her position. The less said about the actual alligator, the better.
Then there’s the Slyther… It’s probably not the worst ‘man in a bag’ costume ever to appear in the series, but it’s still not very impressive. And the first noise it makes – something like a man on helium pretending to roar, intermittently accompanied by a genuine growl – is more comical than menacing.
A couple of elements of the episode do work well, though. The mindless brutality of the Roboman who attacks Wells is rather disturbing, while Ashton is a potent illustration of the sort of selfish behaviour David mentions to Susan in the sewers. There’s also a little moral complexity in the set-up: while Ashton is motivated by greed and self-interest, the slave workers do gain some small benefit from his exploitation of the situation.
The Waking Ally
The cliffhanger resolution is a massive cop-out, the waste bucket suddenly appearing from nowhere. Still, the bit where the Slyther tries to attack Ian and Larry in the bucket is handled better than the previous episode’s action sequences. It’s not perfect, as the Slyther catches onto the wrong side of the bucket, and the noise it makes as it falls down the shaft is pathetic, but the shots of Ian struggling to repel the creature are quite effective, and make the thing actually seem dangerous.
Similarly, the fight against the Robomen in the sewers isn’t badly done. A little stagy in places, and Tyler’s attack on the first one comes a little too soon, but still a distinct improvement on the fighting in earlier episodes. While it’s not too hard to find counterexamples to the Doctor’s claim to ‘never take life’ unless his ‘own is immediately threatened’, it’s still one of the best statements of his stance ever made.
Barbara and Jenny’s betrayal by the women in the woods is another example of humanity’s less pleasant aspects. It’s a little more black-and-white than Ashton’s arrangement, but the implication that the Daleks don’t give the women enough to eat, and the older woman’s rationalisation that the Daleks would have captured Barbara and Jenny anyway, make the women’s actions slightly less unsympathetic than they might have been. This encounter also features a little world-building, with the older woman’s reminiscing about a futuristic London, and the younger’s claims about a pack of wild dogs roaming the countryside. It’s a pity there are no sound effects to substantiate the latter.
The use of moving shadows to create the illusion that the bucket is descending is very effective, and Ian’s mention of the change in pressure is a nice touch of verisimilitude. Larry’s injuring himself in the leap from the bucket is tiresome, though (and whose head is that coming into shot as he drops to the ground?). It’s not necessary, either, as his near inability to walk has no bearing on the remarkably nasty sequence in which he recognises the Roboman as his brother and fails to get through to him, with mutually fatal consequences.
Susan and David’s relationship benefits from being given some time to develop. It’s unclear how long the journey from London has taken, but at least they have had the opportunity to get to know each other better. The Doctor’s witnessing their fooling around by the campfire is also significant, as it helps set things up for the end of the story. I’m not sure about the bit where the Doctor speculates that the Daleks are seeking something which can only be found on Earth, though. Is it supposed to show that he can be mistaken, or did Terry Nation really believe that the Earth’s core was an unique feature?
Barbara gets to show off some of her finer qualities as she resolves to try and get to the Daleks’ control room. Her determination and inventiveness are highlighted by Jenny’s defeatist attitude. It’s amusing to see that spin is still around in the 22nd century, what with the Dalek’s referring to the 'unprovoked attack' on the saucer.
While the idea behind the cliffhanger is an interesting one, it’s not realised all that well. The circumstances which cause Ian to become trapped inside the Daleks’ penetration capsule are terribly contrived. Some indication of why he was backing into the room in the first place might have helped, but that would still leave the question of why the bomb is in two sections and has so much space inside its casing. The model shot of the capsule being moved into position is good, though.
Flashpoint
The set-up with the capsule just gets more and more absurd. What possible reason could the Daleks have had for incorporating a trapdoor in their bomb, and where did Ian find the rope which aids his escape? How does he manage to fall such a great distance without sustaining anything more serious than a rip in his jacket? And why is there an interruption in the shaft right next to a room containing some very convenient lengths of timber?
Elsewhere there are further awkward contrivances, with the Daleks suddenly deciding to test their ‘oral control’, thereby giving Barbara the idea of turning the Robomen against their masters, and then choosing to leave Barbara and Jenny to die when the bomb goes off rather than killing them as soon as their subterfuge is exposed. And yet, in the midst of all this clumsy plotting is the wonderful sequence in which Barbara strings together a variety of historical details to bamboozle the Daleks. When Nation’s good, he’s very good, but he can be shockingly poor, too.
It’s also rather implausible that the cable which David and Susan sabotage isn’t better protected, considering how seriously the Daleks are affected by the attack on it. Still, this is one of the episode’s more impressive sequences. I don’t know why the decision was made to show the attack on the cable at a remove, via a scanner, but it works quite well, and there is some tension as the Dalek advances on the Doctor before being immobilised. The sequences of the people fighting back against the helpless Daleks and fleeing the mines are also rather good.
The imperfect chimes of the repaired Big Ben are a neat touch, and help get across the point that the reconstruction of the Earth has begun but still has some way to go. It’s a little odd that Jenny is absent from the closing scenes – probably something to do with her having started out as a character designed to replace Susan in the TARDIS crew, but still a curious omission.
Susan’s departure is handled well, and William Hartnell rises to the challenge of delivering the Doctor’s farewell speech. I can’t say I’ll be particularly sorry to see the character go, but it’s a moving scene none the less.
This is undeniably an important story in the series’ development. The first return of an enemy, the first Earth invasion, and the first departure of one of the regulars. It’s also ambitious (rather too much in places), and impressively grim a lot of the time. However, it’s also sloppily directed and written in parts, so while it is an improvement on some of the earlier science fiction tales, it doesn’t rank alongside the best stories of the first production block.
|
10th July , 2009
machineiv
| 10:16 pm - The horrors of socialized medicine.
Here's an interview with a former executive of Cigna who fought against Michael Moore's Sicko, who is now telling the truth of the matter now that he's no longer in their pocket.
|
machineiv
| 04:48 pm - TEH SOCIALIZMS!
Look at the socialist our president is pallin' around with. Not only a socialist, but a socialist who was formerly of a terrorist organization that targeted America.
Man. Where's Palin to take him to task for this?
|
wyrm_chris
 | 10:04 pm - Lesson of the day
You listen to your teacher, you do what he says, you learn.
(Don't you wish you had my talent for stating the obvious?)
|
doctor_sentence
| 02:19 pm - Doctor Who Review Archive: Story J (there was no I)
Planet of Giants
Again there's something wrong with the TARDIS, which seems to have gained a siren to indicate danger. That could have been rather useful in The Edge of Destruction - certainly a lot more so than the cryptic warnings the TARDIS provided. No doubt some fans will be lobbying for an option to replace it with the sound of the Cloister Bell when this story comes out on DVD... The explosion of the scanner when it's switched on is a little odd, but as A Land of Fear established that it does more than just show a picture of what's outside, it's feasible that the scanner was trying to show the TARDIS crew the nature of their plight, leading to some kind of overload.
The Doctor's apology to Barbara shows that he really has mellowed since his first appearance. The anti-hero aspect of his personality seems to have been dropped by now, and it's good to see all the regulars getting on well together.
On the whole, production values have improved. I don't recall so much cutting between different sets in any of the preceding stories. Nevertheless, there is still the odd directorial lapse, with people again failing to notice what's right in front of them while it's off-camera. The transitions between the normal-scale world and the oversized one in which the time travellers find themselves are pretty good, though the extent to which the matchbox is open varies between genuine box and massive prop after Farrow's murder. The shot of the miniaturised characters in front of the dead man's face doesn't entirely work, as the photographic backdrop is a little too obviously two-dimensional, but it's a good effort.
Dudley Simpson's debut on incidentals isn't that promising a start. At times his music is far too light-hearted and whimsical, undermining the sense of threat created by the situation.
Farrow isn't particularly smart, is he? His 'sorry, not my problem' attitude to the financial difficulties his report will cause Forester is plausible enough, but revealing his holiday plans and the fact that nobody will be expecting to hear from him for some time is just asking for trouble.
It's neat that the experimental insecticide is established as a danger on more than one level, threatening to damage the ecology as well as being a more obvious menace to the inch-high heroes. It's also a handy plot device to cut down on the need for interaction with massive live insects, which would have been a challenge for the FX team. The prop dead insects are all very convincing, but getting a giant ant to scuttle along realistically would have been a real challenge.
The cliffhanger is pretty good, the presence of the cat having been set up well in advance. The cut from the regulars to the close-up of the cat is a little awkward, but probably the most effective way of depicting what's going on.
Dangerous Journey
While the cliffhanger resolution is very simple, it also makes sense. Avoiding attracting the cat's attention is pretty much the only strategy likely to work, and it is more satisfying to have the heroes saved by using their wits than by, say, having Forester come out and consolidate his bad guy status by kicking the cat.
The Doctor's reaction to Farrow's murder doesn't fit very well with the character established in the first season. No longer reluctant to get involved, he now wishes he could take action, and regrets that he is unable to do so on account of his reduced circumstances. It's quite a radical transformation, though by no means the most extreme one he'll ever undergo. His loyalty to his companions has grown, too, as is shown by his determination to rescue Ian and Barbara. Not that long ago, he'd have been quite unconcerned about abandoning them.
Smithers is an interesting character. He's driven and obsessed, but with good intentions. The precise details of what has given him such zeal to eliminate famine don't matter - it's clear enough that some past experience has left its mark on him. This makes it easy for Forester to manipulate him. It's a little disturbing that Smithers is quite aware of what Forester is doing, but is willing to go along with it for the sake of what he sees as the bigger picture. It's by no means an unrealistic attitude - how many times have people stood by and done nothing against atrocities in the name of some 'greater good'?
The attention to detail in this episode is very impressive. There are so many little touches that add that bit more realism to the story: the dirt from the flower bed on the corpse's face, the wood grain patterns on the lab desk set, the Doctor's dishevelled state after climbing the pipe, the way the plug chain moves when an off-screen Ian is climbing down it... While it is, alas, possible to see the strings on the fly that confronts Barbara, it's still a breathtakingly impressive prop.
It's also important that the regulars are all taking this so seriously. The situation is inherently absurd, as Ian and Barbara acknowledge, but nobody tries sending it up (even the incidentals have become less whimsical and more dramatic), so the dangers faced by the miniaturised characters remain believable. After The Keys of Marinus and The Sensorites I've started expecting sloppiness of the more science-fictional stories, but this is being played straight, and it's turning out to be very good.
That's not to say that it's a flawless production. Barbara's picking up the grain of wheat is a very careless action, and a rather clumsy way of adding to the perils faced by the TARDIS crew. Her having forgotten the Doctor's words about what is killing all the insects is a rather poor way of restating the situation for the benefit of anyone who missed the previous episode. Oh, and Ian's taking a good sniff of the insecticide isn't too clever, either.
There's another cracking cliffhanger. As before, it's built up to rather than coming out of nowhere, and the specifics of it highlight how well Marks has turned a potentially silly situation into a serious drama. Two of our heroes are in danger because a man washes his hands and pulls out the plug. Put like that, it sounds utterly ridiculous, but in context it works.
Crisis
As re-edited cliffhanger reprises go, this one isn’t too bad. The cut-away to show the Doctor and Susan retreating into the overflow pipe (another ingeniously simple solution) is showing something previously unseen rather than changing the details. There’s some sloppy continuity with the plug, though, as it was originally left outside the sink rather than thrown back into it. While I’m being picky, I’ll also mention that the sink set ought really to contain some massive drips of water when Ian and Barbara climb down into it, and later on the match that ignites the gas jet should be at a different angle, with its head higher than the other end.
On a more positive note, while the telephone seen as the miniaturised TARDIS crew approach it is clearly a two-dimensional image, there’s some impressive camera trickery going on in that scene. The effect of everyone’s going round the corner and down the side of the phone may be a very simple illusion, but it does look as if they’re walking into the photograph, and I have no idea how they did it.
It’s rather implausible that the operator is able to recognise that the voice speaking on the phone isn’t Farrow’s, while his colleagues at the Ministry fail to notice the deception. Still, it is rather amusing to have the Great British tradition of busybodying play a part in the story. Old women sticking their noses in where they don’t belong might cause Doctor Who some trouble in years to come, but having one help save the day here is delightfully quirky.
It really is very unwise of Barbara to conceal the fact that she’s been poisoned by the insecticide for so long. I’d call it an instance of plot-driving stupidity, only it doesn’t really make any difference to the plot. The others’ learning of her condition doesn’t significantly alter their plans, as they still concentrate on trying to attract attention to what’s been going on at the house rather than immediately returning to the TARDIS to seek a cure.
The ecological theme of the story is highlighted within both plot strands, as the time travellers reflect on the long-term dangers posed by the insecticide, while Smithers finally realises that he’s made DN6 too potent, so it will do more harm than good. The concerns voiced about the inevitable accumulation of toxins until they reach a level where they can harm humans should have made the threat more immediate to the audience, who might not have grasped the seriousness of the killing off of insects which serve a useful function.
The Doctor’s glee at the thought of starting a fire is reminiscent of the joy he took in vandalising Dalek equipment back in The Ordeal. He can be quite a rogue at times. While there’s no way he could have known that his plan would result in a man having a pressurised can of insecticide blow up in his face, the Doctor seems remarkably unconcerned when it happens. The consequences of that explosion are significantly underplayed. While I concede that severe facial injuries and blinding would be a bit extreme for family viewing, I think the incident could have been handled better. Why not just have the explosion take place further away from Forester, distracting him and giving Smithers a chance to disarm him, and do away with the faceful of shrapnel and poison altogether?
All in all, it’s a good start to the season. A straightforward plot, with some very impressive special effects, and a welcome shift in emphasis that has our heroes seeking to confront the evils they encounter rather than having to be forced to get involved. I don’t know how well appreciated it was on its original broadcast – maybe the bulk of the audience were impatiently waiting for it to end so the Daleks could return – but I certainly enjoyed it.
|
9th July , 2009
eddyfate
 | 10:38 am - Writing like a programmer
So on Sunday I got a weird idea to make a small computer game. There are tons of free options to make a variety of computer games, and I figure since I work for a video game company, I should learn something about the process. However, I'm not a programmer nor an artist, so my options quickly got whittled down. I was about to toss out the idea as just a lark when I stumbled across Inform 7.
Now, I'm no stranger to text adventures (or as they're known as now, "interactive fiction"), both when they originally popular and the resurgence of innovation in the medium in the 90s and early 21st century. I fell out of touch with it around the time I started seriously freelancing, so I missed the release of software that lets you program IF games in English.
PROGRAM IN ENGLISH.
I have been obsessed with this ever since. As I dig into it, it's not nearly as magical as it first seemed -- getting the software to do things like combat requires some heavy coding (or "rules creation" in Inform terms) -- but there's also an active community of people who create extensions Firefox-style that you can plug into a game. The only downside so far is that they're usually pretty hefty (for a word game -- 256k is actually a meaningful amount of space), but for what I'm doing, that's fine for now.
After going from pointless and random noodling to wanting to making something cohesive, I decided that a wacky pulp story would work well with an unambitious text adventure, so I dusted off my old friend Agent Patriot and started working on an actual adventure. In three days, he hasn't left his office, but I'm building a lot of the infrastructure.
I can't entirely explain why this appeals to me so much. I've written a bit for EVE Online, as well as another MMO project, and I've learned that writing for a video game is very different from both fiction and RPG writing. Playing with Inform 7, I'm getting a lot of that same vibe that I did working on those projects. The big difference for me is that I can compile the program and see my results right away, so I can modify and stretch the story as needed based on the limitations of my software or my knowledge.
But this does lead to situations like last night, when I stayed up until past midnight trying to keep a character from continuing to clean Agent Patriot's office after he died. I finally figured it out, only to realize that it didn't matter -- the game probably shouldn't continue if that character died anyhow. But that work isn't thrown out, because I learned a LOT about how to construct similar situations in future, and I've increased my options for later story development.
(I admit that I just cheated and got a combat plug-in. It works almost exactly how I wanted it to, so it was a LOT of work I just didn't need to do.)
I've always liked writing fiction to tell a certain story, and I've always liked writing and running RPGs to let others tell a story as well. But somewhere in the middle there's a range of collaboration between writer and audience that I want to explore more. This is one avenue -- I have another one kicking around as well (the elusive "Whitechapel" idea I've mentioned) that I want to wait until we've moved before I pursue further. And ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) emprint has shown me a third avenue that I like as well. Maybe we should collaborate on a project at some point.
This does mean that my original idea of trying to get back and committing to daily wordcounts is kind of shot, but I think this is all valuable work to improve my skills as a writer overall. As technology continues to evolve, I think there's going to be new ways to close the gap between writer and audience, and I can't see how that kind of interaction will do anything but help me to become a better writer overall.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://pics.livejournal.com/eddyfate/pic/00013gc4) creative
|
doctor_sentence
| 03:51 pm - Doctor Who Review Archive: Story H
A Land of Fear
In some ways this story starts much as the previous one did, with a contrived cliffhanger bridging the two separate adventures and a dialogue in the console room that reflects on what has gone before. However, it's done a lot better this time. For starters, it's a more interesting cliffhanger, character-based rather than trying to wring mystery out of a mundane detail, and requiring some actual resolution. It also helps that the conversation flows much more naturally. The reminder that Ian and Barbara have wanted to get home from the outset, and the TARDIS crew's differing reactions to the prospect of the teachers' departure, do a much better job of showing how things were, and how far the travellers have come, than Strangers in Space's clumsy recap of the first half-dozen adventures.
For the first time we get an indication that there's more to the scanner than just a camera showing what's outside the ship. There's no big deal made of the fact that the Doctor can make it show details from further away, but I suppose that compared to the other capabilities the TARDIS has been shown to have, this isn't all that spectacular.
The trunk the regulars find is a very efficient storytelling device. It has a reason to be there and contain what it contains, identifies the setting for this adventure, and provides suitable period costumes for those whose garb doesn't fit the milieu. It also makes the house a focal point for the drama unfolding outside, and helps get everyone involved in the plot.
For a long time eyepatches have been used as dramatic shorthand for villainy. Nevertheless, despite the presence of a one-eyed man in the revolutionary mob, there are vague hints that this story isn't going for a simple black-and-white morality in its depiction of the revolution. Rouvray's contemptuous dismissal of his captors as 'peasants' shows an unpleasant side to his character, making him more than just a clichéd tragic noble.
The killing of the two fugitive aristocrats creates a distinct sense of danger. With two men already having been gunned down in cold blood, the Lieutenant's order to have anyone who speaks out of turn shot comes across as no idle threat.
Some elements of the cliffhanger work better than others. The shot of the flaming torch being thrown has obviously been filmed somewhere else, and the glimpse of the small boy watching the mob lead their prisoners away makes it far too obvious how the Doctor will be saved. Some of the model shots of the burning house are good, though, and I like the way the flames are superimposed over the closing credits.
Guests of Madame Guillotine
If there were an I-Spy Book of Visual Clichés, the start of this episode would take care of most of the 'French Revolution' page. A little scene-setting is no bad thing, but the excesses on display here border on inadvertent parody, threatening to undermine the drama.
It's interesting (in a very geeky way) to note that the first Doctor Who story to feature location filming is largely set in the same city as the first to feature overseas location filming. Here it's all very basic stuff, just a couple of montages of shots to show the Doctor making progress towards Paris, but it's preparing the way for more impressive sequences in future stories.
Regrettably, this story sees Susan turning back into the annoying character she's been for far too much of the time. It's understandable that she should be affected by the possibility that her grandfather might have been killed, but this time her hysterical behaviour threatens both her and Barbara's lives. Her reaction to the rats leads to giving up on (seemingly) the only chance the two of them have of escaping execution. I don't want to go all Terry Nation here, but this is an obvious situation where fears should be fought, and Susan fails the challenge dismally.
While Ian's being given an important mission by a dying fellow-prisoner is a rather contrived plot development, it is good to see further progress away from the 'forced to get involved in things owing to inability to return to the TARDIS' template. It's about time the regulars became more proactive. Otherwise, they might as well do as suggested in Strangers in Space, and never bother stepping outside of the ship.
Didn't the Doctor claim never to give advice back in The Rescue? Judging by how well his suggestion to the overseer is received, he'd have done better to stick to that policy. I'm not sure what to make of his subsequent knocking-out of the overseer - while there are significant differences between this situation and the incident with the stone back in The Forest of Fear, and it is very clearly shown that the man is just unconscious, it does still seem rather inappropriate to have violent assault played for laughs here.
The decision to focus on Ian for the cliffhanger is a little odd, given that it's Barbara and Susan who are in peril. It's probably a cost-cutting measure, saving the expense of hiring a few extras until the next recording block, and since it's pretty obvious what Ian must be seeing, the cliffhanger does work. Nevertheless, implying rather than showing is a technique better used with violent scenes than plot developments.
A Change of Identity
Pretty much everything the regulars achieve in this episode is to some extent a consequence of others’ plans. Ian’s escape is stage-managed by Lemaitre (though it’s not clear how he becomes aware that the key has been left in the lock on his cell door, nor indeed how Lemaitre knew the exact right time to distract the jailer from some distance around the corner), Barbara and Susan’s rescue is entirely the work of Jules and Jean, and it seems unlikely that the Doctor would have obtained the uniform and other paraphernalia required for his impersonation of a Regional Officer but for the tailor’s choosing to play along with his scheme until he’s in a position to expose him as a traitor.
It’s a pity Susan showed no signs of the illness afflicting her in the previous episode, as her sudden sickness is unconvincing. Besides, having her collapse in the cell would have been a better way of compelling Barbara to abandon the escape plan than what we got. Then again, I’d probably have preferred it if the illness had been dispensed with altogether, as it just makes Susan even more useless than she already was (if you can have gradations of uselessness). Another chance of escape is lost because she’s just too unwell to move, and I’m afraid I have no sympathy for her, after the way she’s been carrying on.
The actual rescue could have been handled better. For starters there’s the clumsy expository dialogue where Jules and Jean tell each other what they can both see anyway. If this were one of the missing episodes, it could have worked, suggesting that one was watching and reporting to the other, who was remaining hidden. However, the video does still exist (for the most part, at least), so it’s clear to see that the conversation is unnecessary.
There are also problems when the talk stops and the action starts. There’s a weird jump in the footage during the fight (which could be a cut for violence rather than a technical fault or clumsy editing, but is distracting whatever the reason), and the third passenger on the tumbrel disappears with no explanation (unless his fate was the bit that got chopped by some censor).
The Doctor’s subterfuge is decidedly risky, but probably the only real option open to him. His suppressed reaction to the jailer’s announcement that Barbara and Susan were taken to the guillotine is a nice bit of acting, and it is good to see him showing some concern for all his fellow travellers rather than just Susan.
Having the tailor turn up at the prison saves on having to create a set for Lemaitre's house for just the final scene of the episode, but it does slightly weaken the cliffhanger. Having the Doctor denounced to a buffoon like the jailer doesn't carry as much menace as if the accusation were being presented to a serious villain.
The Tyrant of France
Lemaitre’s reaction to the Doctor’s papers and his taking such pains to compel the Doctor to stay with him in the last episode had led me to the conclusion that he’d seen through the forgery, and was keeping the Doctor around because he’d overheard him asking about Ian. The coincidence that the province from which the Doctor claimed to have come should just happen to be the one scheduled for discussion the next morning seemed an obvious pretext, and considering Lemaitre’s interest in Ian’s activities, it made sense for him to want to stick close to one of Chesterton’s associates. It appears that I was wrong, as I can’t imagine that he’d actually have taken a suspected impostor to meet Robespierre. So it really was just a big coincidence? That’s a bit much to accept, especially as it’s not the only one to drive the plot.
The actual meeting with Robespierre is quite interesting, if a little short. It’s good to hear the Doctor managing to bluff his way through it, though his criticism of the extent of the purges is a bit dangerous. What if Robespierre had paid attention to the Doctor’s words, and changed his approach? Not so long ago the Doctor was telling Barbara off for trying to change history, and now here he is risking doing just that.
Barbara and Susan’s rescuer turning out to be the man Ian is trying to find is a little convenient, but plausible. Given that Jules’ involvement in helping fugitives to escape to other countries would require some foreign connections, it makes sense that Webster should be given his name as a potential contact. Unless there are a great many separate individuals playing Scarlet Pimpernel, it’s hardly surprising that the time travellers’ paths should converge under his roof.
What happens to the TARDIS crew is still largely out of their control. Even if Susan hadn’t been ill, Leon would have found some way to arrange for her and Barbara to be recaptured, and Lemaitre does a good job of keeping the Doctor from getting away without revealing his suspicions of the ‘Regional Officer’.
Was blood-letting really still common medical practice in the late eighteenth century? It seems hard to believe. And if medicine was that primitive back then, shouldn’t Barbara have had some inkling that taking Susan to see a physician would have been unlikely to produce any worthwhile results?
With all the escapees recaptured, the plot almost seems to have gone back a few steps. Nevertheless, enough has been achieved over the course of the last few episodes that it’s not a simple reversion to the way things were back in Guests of Madame Guillotine. I just hope that our heroes soon start taking action themselves rather than continuing to be shuffled around by others.
A Bargain of Necessity
This is something of a personal milestone. When I started this marathon, I’d seen every episode of Doctor Who that still exists in the BBC archives, and heard the soundtracks to all but two of the missing ones. They were both from this story, so by now I’ve watched or listened to the whole series. However, as the Doctor once said (will say, from the viewpoint of this episode), “It’s far from being all over.” After all, I still have to get through well over 700 episodes again for the purposes of this marathon.
Once again plot developments hinge on a coincidence, Robespierre’s summons of Lemaitre coming very conveniently for the Doctor. Still, Lemaitre is proving very devious, and his orders regarding Susan are a very astute precaution. Having an intelligent antagonist thwarted by pure chance would be very unsatisfying, so it’s dramatically good that he’s able to make things more difficult for the Doctor before circumstances compel him to leave.
While the Doctor’s manipulation of the jailer into coming up with the idea of releasing Barbara is simple stuff, it’s still rather entertaining, as is his unsuccessful follow-up bid to have Susan set free. The alternate plan to which he resorts when frustrated by Lemaitre’s instructions is rather more desperate (and we have him hitting someone over the head again!), but it’s still good to have him working to overcome obstacles rather than just reacting to others’ machinations.
The rather clumsy shoehorning of the date into the dialogue simultaneously fulfils the series’ educational brief for those less well informed about the details of the French revolution and hints at what is to happen for those who do know such facts. It also makes the Doctor’s words to Robespierre in the previous episode more excusable. If he knew that Robespierre’s downfall was imminent, he’d have less cause to worry about influencing the course of events.
It’s here that the moral complexity of the situation gets a proper examination. While Colbert may be considered a villain on account of his treatment of Barbara and Ian, his fidelity to the ideals of the revolution gives him some depth. Unlike most of the villains in Doctor Who to date, he’s motivated more by an ideal than by self-interest. On the other hand, Jules’ reasons for opposing the revolution are valid. In the middle is Barbara, maintaining a degree of professional detachment despite her personal involvement, and recognising that there is good on both sides.
The black-and-white morality espoused by Jules doesn’t undermine this message, as it’s clear that he’s too close to the events to share Barbara’s perspective. Besides, the main point of his refusing to see things her way is to set up the cliffhanger. His condemnation of traitors is virtually a cue for the Doctor to turn up with Lemaitre.
Prisoners of Conciergerie
It doesn't take long for everyone to accept Lemaitre's story. It is a plausible one, to be fair, but after he's been painted as a villain for so long, you'd think that somebody would have more of a struggle coming to terms with his revelation. I wonder how many deaths he's had a hand in for the purposes of maintaining his cover.
Ian's suddenly remembering extra things that Webster said is something of a retcon, but does provide something of a hook to keep the TARDIS crew involved and save this episode from underrunning by about 20 minutes. It's a bit odd that Webster should have given one inn name in French and the other in English, though.
The Doctor's character development has gone into reverse a little, as he's only really interested in retrieving Susan and getting back to the TARDIS. So much for this being his favourite period of Earth history. Maybe he's just had to get his hands dirtier than usual, and that's spoiled the period for him.
With major historical events taking place, the regulars are back to being bystanders again, unable to intervene, and just trying to keep from getting caught up in the attendant chaos. The conversation in the TARDIS at the end of the story shows that the subject of altering the past was viewed very differently by the then production team to the way it's seen now. The past is immutable, and time travellers can observe, even get involved and harmed, but they cannot alter the established facts. Doctor Who would have been a very different series if that rule had never been changed.
The depiction of Robespierre's downfall is rather unpleasant. All within the limitations of what was considered acceptable family viewing in the mid-sixties, but it's still a man being shot in the mouth. Despite the circumspect way in which it's shown, it's still more realistic than usual for the series, and has more shock value than the gunning down of assorted guards during Jules' rescue bids.
The tone soon mellows again, with the Doctor once more outwitting the jailer. It's not much of a challenge, but none the less it's fun to see him bluff his way through the situation, rescuing Susan and getting to insult the jailer into the bargain.
And so the first season comes to an end. It's not the strongest of finales, with our heroes spending the last episode doing little more than spectate, and largely managing to stay out of trouble rather than having to face any real challenges. Still, the closing scene is a nice coda to the preceding adventures.
|
msgr
[dandelionclock]
 | 02:05 pm - Fun, fun, fun in Room 207
Wireless upgrades! Targeted HeAdSpace ads! Memory wipes, free of charge!
ReMotivation: it's like Botox for your brain.
Current Location: Room 207
Current Mood: Remotivational
Current Music: Pizzicato Five
|
8th July , 2009
doctor_sentence
| 04:03 pm - Doctor Who Review Archive: Story G
Strangers in Space
The episode gets off to a rather shaky start. Firstly there's the unimpressive cliffhanger lead-in: has the TARDIS never arrived on a moving vehicle before? Given that all planets rotate and orbit suns, and the entire universe is expanding, isn't everywhere it turns up going to be in motion? It's not even as if the possibility of the TARDIS being 'inside something' is particularly gripping anyway.
Following this none-too-exciting start, we then get a great chunk of padding as the TARDIS crew reminisce about recent adventures. Pleasing as arbitrary continuity references are to some fans, it's all rather tiresome, and the impact of the previous story is a little diluted by Barbara's having got over it all so quickly.
When the regulars finally leave the TARDIS, having the camera follow them out through the doors is a nice touch. It's a simple enough trick, but works well none the less.
While the Doctor's claim not to have any curiosity is blatantly not supposed to be taken seriously, he does take an unusual lack of interest in what could be happening on the spacecraft. Having ascertained that the crew seem to be dead, and that the evidence indicating how long they've been dead is self-contradictory, he promptly decides to go back to the TARDIS and leave. So much for the spirit of adventure!
Once the crew turn out not to be dead after all, there's some nice world-building, giving vague hints of how much the Earth has changed in eight centuries. It's interesting that Maitland and Carol take the existence of time travellers for granted, and I can't help but wonder what could have happened to make the people of the 28th century so blasé about the concept.
Everyone is staggeringly unobservant when the Sensorites steal the TARDIS lock (oh, look, the crew have been prevented from leaving. What a thoroughly unexpected development.), as it's only happening on the other side of the room. Couldn't the set at least have been designed with a corner or something to obscure the TARDIS from view?
The Sensorites' behaviour is unusual, but the description of their actions as a 'game of nerves' provides a convenient pseudo-explanation for illogicalities. Even the fact that the Sensorites' ships can be heard approaching through space (except when they're coming to steal the TARDIS lock) could be rationalised as one of their mind tricks. Though largely superfluous, the sequence in which the ship goes out of control and almost crashes is quite tense (aided by some good incidentals), and as an example of the sort of things to which the ship's crew have been subjected, it makes their plight more tangible.
If the intention was to make John seem a menacing figure before revealing him to be in such a pitiable condition, it doesn't really work. While his shambling around is reminiscent of the walk adopted by bad actors playing monsters, it's still rather more evocative of sleepwalking or a drug-induced stupor than of anything sinister.
At least the closing cliffhanger is a cracker. The gradual build-up invests the whole sequence with a sense of foreboding, and the final revelation of a distinctly odd-looking creature peering through the window from outside the spaceship is distinctly startling. Not quite on a par with The Dead Planet, but in the same general area.
The Unwilling Warriors
This is one of the most unusual and effective episode titles to date. All too many have either been flat descriptions or somewhat melodramatic, but here we have an uncommon combination of words, which makes sense in context, but is odd enough to prompt speculation in a way that few others do.
The Sensorites' mental assault on John is rather distressing. Its similarities with some forms of mental illness - voices in the head, the struggle to resist harmful compulsions - may play a part in this, but Stephen Dartnell's performance is what really sells it. Resisting the temptation to go over the top, he gives a convincing portrayal of a man who is being hurt, and its verisimilitude makes it quite uncomfortable to watch.
At last Susan gets to be a productive character, drawing on past experience to come up with a way of resisting the Sensorites. Later, her confusion about the spectrograph suggests for a moment that the advanced scientific knowledge mentioned back in An Unearthly Child has been forgotten, but then her understanding after only a perfunctory explanation turns it into a hint of alienness, suggesting that she's familiar with the principles and just didn't know the human term for the process. Her not being the hysterical and culturally insensitive cipher she has been far too often makes it all the more regrettable that she, Barbara and Carol are repeatedly referred to as 'girls'.
While the Sensorites prove visually less impressive when seen in full, they become much better defined as characters over the course of the episode. Their specific actions may be odd, but there's a clear and reasonable motivation behind them, and the fear that has driven them to mistreat the crew of the ship is based on experience rather than ignorance.
The sequence in which Ian and Barbara creep around the ship, eventually encountering the Sensorites and then retreating from them, is very suspenseful. Peter Newman's script makes good use of the unknown and the uncertain to suggest imminent threat, and Norman Kay's incidentals again enhance the mood. It's not pure padding either (not that padding is automatically a bad thing - it's only when it's poorly handled that it really mars a story), as the Sensorites' lack of aggressive action is one of the first indications that they're not as hostile as had been thought.
Further hints about the Sensorites' nature are provided by their choosing to initiate telepathic communication before actually confronting everyone. Mind you, as it's been established that they use telepathy, and Barbara has already seen John responding to their mental commands, the TARDIS crew seem a bit slow on the uptake when Susan is contacted. Surprise that the Sensorites had singled her out I could understand, but not even twigging what's going on for about half a minute seems unnecessarily dense.
Despite Ian's repeated brandishing of a makeshift club, the emphasis in this episode has been on the use of intelligence as a weapon, and the Doctor's speculation based on what he has observed about the Sensorites' eyes is a clear example of this. While watching this episode I found myself reflecting on the original Star Trek pilot episode, probably because both involve bald aliens with unusually-shaped heads and mind powers imprisoning humans. In its championing of brains over brawn, I think this is the better story.
Hidden Danger
As the Sensorites have been shown to be able to survive in space without protective clothing, the concerns raised that Susan might suffocate when they take her away are not unreasonable. It is, thus, bizarre that the subsequent argument makes no mention of that danger, and instead focuses on completely different issues. The Doctor’s reminder that trust needs to be a two-way thing is a valid point, but it’d be a stronger argument if there were any clear indication that he and the humans are willing to trust the Sensorites.
After all the times Susan has made a bad situation worse, it’s a shame that the Doctor should decide to reprimand her now, when she’s been displaying more sense, maturity and intelligence than she has in a long while. Nevertheless, it does make sense that he would have difficulties coming to terms with her increasing independence, so his behaviour is understandable despite being inappropriate.
A lot gets sorted out off-screen, between scenes. It’s a little surprising but, given the quality of some of the dialogue later on, probably no bad thing. Still, the script does have its moments, such as the self-referential joke of Ian’s observing that splitting up 'always leads to trouble'.
It might initially seem odd that the Sensorites should have chosen to keep the ship’s crew prisoner, given that they blame humans for a deadly disease that has been wiping out their population. After all, doesn’t keeping more humans around increase the risk of further infection? It’s a more complex issue than that, though. Let the ship go, and more humans would come to the Sense-Sphere for the molybdenum. Killing the crew would have worked, but goes against (most of the) Sensorites’ principles. Once again a moral dilemma forms a significant plot element.
The Sensorite leaders’ debate is rather tiresome, though the odd good line turns up amidst all the waffle and pontification. It does also help establish that the Sensorites are individuals, with their own views and opinions. The Administrator’s unwillingness to take sides is a neat bit of characterisation, as it soon becomes apparent that he is driven by fear and mistrust, and is thus just the type not to want to take a clear stand on anything in case it should attract hostility from those who think differently.
It’s not exactly difficult to figure out what is causing the ‘disease’, is it? Then again, failing to spot the blatantly obvious is a failing found in real people as well as Sensorites. One good detail is that the effect is not instantaneous, but the symptoms develop gradually, and it takes a while for them to be recognised as what they are. Apart from being more realistic, it also makes the Sensorites’ inability to identify the source of the affliction a little less absurd: if a sip of water immediately caused them to start gagging and collapsing, only an idiot could fail to make the connection.
A Race Against Death
At this point in the series it seems to be taken for granted that the Doctor and Susan are human. They don't for a moment consider the possibility that only Ian has been afflicted because he has a different biological make-up, but immediately start thinking about what he could have done that they did not.
The Doctor's determination to find a cure for the poison and deal with the problem at its source is a significant development, as it marks the first time he's been concerned with more than just getting back to the TARDIS and keeping his travelling companions safe. The desire to regain the TARDIS lock is still there, and makes him decidedly curmudgeonly until he gets absorbed in the search for the poison, but it seems clear that he does want to help, and wouldn't have immediately fled in the TARDIS if he had got the lock back.
It turns out that the Sensorites are less clueless than they seemed, as they have tried testing the water in the past. Their failure to identify the poison through this testing is a hint that there's still more to the situation than has yet been revealed.
Then again, the Administrator's behaviour in this episode indicates that there are some regards in which the Sensorites are none too smart. In a world of essentially pacifist telepaths, it seems unlikely that a bigot with murderous tendencies could rise to a position of authority without being found out. And while those attributes could have been suppressed, only emerging in response to the provocation of having aliens invited to visit, it's harder to accept that the same stimulus would also bring out a willingness to harm his own kind.
Occasionally the Doctor gets carried away with his own cleverness. It happened when he was sabotaging the Daleks' surveillance equipment, and it happens again here. While he's quick to deduce that the Sensorites' two main weaknesses are being exploited to keep them away from the aqueduct, he fails to consider the possibility that darkness and loud noises might not be the only weapons available to whoever is responsible for the poisoning of the water.
Kidnap
It looks as if Newman struggled to come up with a title for this episode, given that the one we have describes the cliffhanger, which seems rather tacked-on. It's not as if there's little worthy of mention within the episode itself: our heroes realise that there are two separate hostile forces at work, an Elder is killed, false accusations are made, and the time travellers unwittingly help one of their enemies. Couldn't one of those incidents have formed the basis of the title rather than the uninspired one we got?
The plot's starting to come unravelled in places, too. For some strange reason the Doctor's attacker shreds his coat but leaves him unharmed. Susan's suspicions of the Administrator come out of nowhere. How does the Doctor think that finding the poisoners will help prove the Administrator's villainy? The Administrator orders the weapons sabotaged before the Doctor and Ian announce their intention to return to the aqueduct and the First Elder decides to have them issued with weapons.
While it doesn't take Ian long to return to normal, it's nice to see that he is taking a bit of time to recover. Just as the poison wasn't instantaneous in its effect, so the passing of the symptoms is a gradual process.
The sequence in which the Second Elder is killed is one of the most unconvincing fight scenes yet. It's also a bit sloppy that the question of who killed him is dropped for a while after the Doctor's innocence has been proved. Oh, eventually the First Elder reflects that someone must have been responsible, but you'd think that the suspicious death of the second highest-ranking authority figure on the planet would merit more attention than it does.
For the first time we have a cliffhanger in which a non-regular is in peril. The Administrator's intent in having Carol abducted (well, who else is going to be behind it?) is unclear, and she's not all that interesting a character, so it all falls rather flat.
A Desperate Venture
The shaky plotting continues. Why does Ian decide to check the weapons, thereby discovering that they have been sabotaged, after he and the Doctor have been wandering around the tunnels for some time without encountering anything? If the Doctor had just realised that the map had been tampered with, then Ian would have had reason to look more closely at the weapons, but the alterations to the map are only noticed after Ian's announcement that the weapons don't work.
We never do get a decent explanation for Carol's kidnapping, either. Once the Sensorite Formerly Known as the Administrator has her, he doesn't do anything with her (beyond attempt to conceal the fact that she's been taken prisoner), so what was the point? Well, it did give the previous episode a cheap cliffhanger and a title, but what did the character expect to gain from doing it?
Susan's alienness comes to the fore again with her poetic description of the world she and her grandfather call home. It's pretty clear that they intend to return there at some point in the future - a detail forgotten or ignored when the Doctor's origins are finally revealed. Susan's longing to settle down may be intended to prepare the way for her departure in a few stories' time. If so, it's something of a shame that the process of writing her out should occur in the first story to make good use of her character in a long while.
I've seen the TV adaptation of The Hitch-Hikers' Guide to the Galaxy several times, and that makes it very difficult for me to take the astronauts seriously. Their facial hair reminds me of the philosophers who oppose the activation of Deep Thought, or Ford and Arthur after their exploration of prehistoric Earth, while their leader's insistence on protocol and his addressing the others as Number One and Number Two bring to mind the crew of the B Ark. Still, even if they didn't put me in mind of comedy characters, they'd still come across as being fairly ridiculous on account of their failure to spot the Doctor marking their route with chalk and telling Ian about it. I'm sure they are supposed to come across as rather pathetic characters, more to be pitied than despised, but making them seem so stupid just undermines the semi-twist of having these mass murderers turn out to be mentally unbalanced.
While the Sensorite warrior's desire to kill the poisoners, and his having the strength of character to resist the temptation, do a reasonable job of giving him something of a personality, the Doctor's reaction is a bit excessive. The whole set-up at the start of the story arose from the Sensorites' reluctance to kill, so trumpeting one individual's adherence to those principles as a breakthrough for the whole race makes no sense. The survival of the astronauts also creates a problem that's never addressed: even if John, Carol and Maitland agree never to mention the Sense-Sphere's mineral wealth when they return to Earth, what's to keep the astronauts from revealing the truth? It only needs one person to wonder if there's more to their tales of vast quantities of molybdenum than madmen's ravings, and life could become very unpleasant for the Sensorites.
The resolution of the plot thread with the villainous Sensorite proves a little weak, too. Why should the doctored map be all the proof required to expose his treachery? He got his associate to make the alterations, so there's no incriminating handwriting, and the map's having passed through his hands doesn't prove anything. The fact that his defeat occurs off-screen doesn't help either, making it all seem rather rushed and anticlimactic.
After a good start, this story has turned out to be something of a disappointment. It deserves some credit for introducing a non-humanoid race which isn't purely villainous (and for not trying to beat the audience over the head with the message), but such worthy efforts don't excuse the mess into which the plot deteriorates towards the end.
|
7th July , 2009
machineiv
| 12:29 pm - Buried Tales of Pinebox Texas
Here's the trailer for an anthology Mena worked on. You should check it out, it's the awesome. It also includes a number of other awesome writers.
And you can buy it here.
|
doctor_sentence
| 04:00 pm - Doctor Who Review Archive: Story F
The Temple of Evil
There’s a lot of exposition in the opening scene of this story, but it’s handled well, coming across as a believable dialogue rather than a hefty info-dump. Presenting the audience with the issue central to the drama at the outset is a centuries-old device, but it works here, and does a good job of challenging preconceptions of the kind raised by Susan.
Barbara’s putting on the bracelet is an awkward contrivance to set up the mistaken identity. If she were to behave like that in her own time and place, she’d soon wind up under arrest for pilfering.
Yet again we have the time travellers cut off from the TARDIS. A necessary evil, as the conflict at the heart of the story arises from their presence rather than being a pre-existing situation, but it is getting very repetitive. At least the sound effects for the closing tomb door are good, reinforcing the illusion that it’s going to be difficult to reopen it. Having an obviously flimsy bit of polystyrene as the only obstacle could have stretched suspension of disbelief that bit too far.
Ixta and Tlotoxl make good antagonists for our heroes, both having realistic motivations for their actions. Each stands to lose out on account of one of the new arrivals, and is determined not to do so. Similarly, the Doctor and Barbara both have valid reasons for the stances they take in their argument. It’s a powerful scene, all the more so for the hint that the Doctor once made the same kind of mistakes that Barbara is making now.
The behaviour of the sacrificial victim is an effective illustration of a mindset perhaps more alien to its audience than any previously encountered in the series. His suicide helps underline the immensity of the opposition that Barbara will face – when even the system’s biggest victims resist any attempt to change it, she expect to find very little support.
The Warriors of Death
The Doctor’s character has been evolving over the course of the series, and a few incidents in this episode highlight aspects of his development. While he was first shown in a real heroic light a few episodes back, triumphally appearing for the defence in Sentence of Death, his move away from the position of anti-hero is made all the clearer by his holding the moral high ground in a dispute with one of the audience identification characters. Now his stance in the earlier argument with Barbara has been vindicated, he doesn’t pull any punches when spelling out the consequences of her refusal to take his advice. Nevertheless, his more mellow side also comes out, as he follows up his rebuke with words of comfort and encouragement.
His interaction with Cameca illustrates a previously unseen facet of his character, which has become a very contentious issue with some fans in its more recent manifestations. This is his romantic nature. While his primary concern is finding a way to get information about Yetaxa’s tomb, he did pick Cameca out of all the residents of the garden of the aged even before he knew she could put him in touch with the architect’s son, and there’s definitely a hint of flirtation as he speaks with her here.
It has already been established that Tlotoxl is a manipulator, with his scheduling the sacrifice and the first public appearance of the ‘reincarnated Yetaxa’ to coincide with the coming of the rains. Now we see him putting his skills to work against Barbara and her companions, identifying characteristics and situations he can exploit for his own advantage. His use of the Perfect Victim to set up Ian’s fight with Ixta, something he lacked the authority to arrange himself, is a clear example of this.
Autloc’s reasoning when explaining why he does not reject Barbara’s stance on human sacrifice is sound, and as such it’s a bit of a shame that he had already expressed reservations about the practise even before she spoke out against it. Her getting him to take on board a completely new concept might have been something of a stretch, but isn’t his having an outlook so uncharacteristic of his culture just as much of a contrivance?
Ixta’s fight with Ian is a good deal less stagy than the one against an unnamed warrior in the previous episode, though it still suffers from the limitations created by the size of the set. The scratch he causes with the thorn looks a bit excessive, but maybe anything less prominent would have failed to show up on the average mid-1960s TV screen. Regardless, it all builds to a powerful cliffhanger, the separate threats to Ian and Barbara tying together far more convincingly than those faced by Ian and Susan in the previous story’s attempt at ending an episode with two of the regulars in different yet related forms of peril.
The Bride of Sacrifice
Barbara’s solution to her dilemma is like many of the best cliffhanger resolutions – unexpected without suddenly and clumsily introducing some new element into the situation. Nevertheless, being put on the spot like that has increased the pressure she is under (she’s hardly the sort to pull a knife on anybody without extreme provocation), and there’s more to come yet. She is clearly uncomfortable at having to continue deceiving Autloc about her true nature, and Ian’s siding with the Doctor on the issue of interfering with the Aztecs’ culture shows her to be even more alone than she’d thought. Such stress is sure to find an outlet sooner or later, and it’s hardly surprising that Tlotoxl should become the target. Barbara’s confirming his suspicions and defying him to do anything with this knowledge is unwise, but very understandable.
As in his previous story, Lucarotti introduces an element of humour, but handles it delicately enough to avoid making mock of the characters involved. This time it’s the Doctor’s engagement to Cameca, resulting from his not being as knowledgeable about Aztec customs as he’d thought. After being made aware of what he’s done, the Doctor behaves in a manner in keeping with what he has been telling Barbara, at least pretending to go along with the way things are rather than risk stirring up further trouble.
Susan may be a more seasoned time traveller than the teachers, but she’s still more like Barbara than the Doctor in her reactions to aspects of foreign cultures that she dislikes. In view of the demands that could have been made upon her as the Perfect Victim’s choice for a bride, her refusal to go along with the planned betrothal is not unreasonable, but her outburst against Autloc is an overreaction, reinforcing her status as my least favourite member of the initial TARDIS crew.
While Tlotoxl and Ixta have much in common, they are different characters, and their individual natures shape their differing approaches to deception. Ixta is blunt and direct, and simply tells lies when it is in his interests to do so, whereas Tlotoxl favours manipulating and concealing facts to mislead without saying any actual untruths. It’s a neat touch, and a nice bit of characterisation.
William Russell and Ian Cullen both do a decent job of making the stone slab in the garden seem heavy, and the FX thud as it is replaced is very effective. It’s a shame about the tell-tale polystyreny squeaks made as the actors wrestle with the prop, but full marks for effort. The use of lighting to imply that the tunnel is starting to fill with water is very effective, and helps create another good cliffhanger.
The Day of Darkness
This story might have benefited from an extra episode, as things get a little rushed here. The eclipse and sacrifice were said to be three days away back in The Bride of Sacrifice, but only one night is seen to pass between then and the climax of the story, and it’s hard to see where two more days could be slipped in between scenes.
More seriously, the character development experienced by a few of the Aztecs in this episode is too abrupt to be entirely convincing. While Tlotoxl and Ixta have been ruthless and devious from the outset, they’ve remained true to their principles until now. Then, all of a sudden, they’re prepared to plan and commit one of the most serious crimes imaginable in their culture. Similarly, it doesn’t take much to break Autloc’s faith in Barbara. He’s attacked, Ian is accused, and without even wondering what could motivate such an attack, or why a man who could incapacitate the Chosen Warrior with his bare hands should use a weapon against an elderly priest, Autloc denounces the ‘false goddess’. Perhaps if this had been a five-parter, these changes could have been built up to rather than coming out of nowhere.
A more realistic change is that Barbara has given up on trying to change the Aztecs, and is now primarily concerned with getting back to the TARDIS. She’s faced opposition from friend and foe alike, seen her companions threatened with death or brutal punishment, almost been poisoned herself, had to persistently deceive the one man in the city whom she respects – is it any wonder that by now she just wants to get away?
The Doctor’s relationship with Cameca is a complex one. When she offers him the opportunity to cancel their engagement, he doesn’t accept it, though his intention of leaving at the earliest opportunity remains unchanged. It’s clear that he feels some regret about the situation, perhaps just because of the way he has misled and used her, but there could also be an element of wishing that they could have had more time together.
Unusually for Doctor Who, the story ends on a downbeat note. Autloc may (it remains uncertain) have found a better way of life, but Tlotoxl is triumphant, and thus the Aztec culture remains doomed. The time travellers have hurt the best people they met here, and while Barbara has learned from her experiences, it’s been a harsh lesson.
Despite the minor quibbles I’ve mentioned along the way, this is another great story, with a thought-provoking script, impressive sets, and some excellent acting (particularly from John Ringham, whose performance as Tlotoxl gives no indication that he would wind up typecast as the quiet suburban type in sitcoms). I wouldn’t want every story to end like this one, but I do wish that there were more of similar quality.
|
6th July , 2009
i_strawberry
 | 09:16 pm - Adventures and muffins
OK, it's not my birthday anymore, really about time i updated this!! I've moved house - yes, again! - well and truly had enough moving for a good while now! I've moved in with the other half (TOH)(he hasn't run away yet!) and this has involved many box forts, but is now starting to come together and with the advantage of having found an unfurnished place, we've been lucky enough to be able to pull things together with the help on very good friends and family.
Tonight TOH is up in Edinburgh with his uncle for some time-out and i have made a batch of blueberry muffins to keep myself occupied!
|
doctor_sentence
| 02:15 pm - Doctor Who Review Archive: Story E
The Sea of Death
The opening model shot of the island and the arrival of the TARDIS is quite impressive, though the arrival of the Voord submersibles is rather less impressive. The craft might not have been made from washing-up liquid bottles (or maybe they were - I don't know), but there is a certain resemblance. And don't get me started on the cardboard cut-out of the Voord that falls to his death, which rotates just enough on the way down for its two-dimensionality to become obvious.
There's a neat bit of continuity with Terry Nation's last script for the series, with the Doctor making sure of the radiation levels before anyone leaves the TARDIS. While radiation does become one of Nation's stock plot elements in his later stories, the mention here is merely proof that the Doctor is being more careful after his brush with death on Skaro. Later on the scripting becomes a little more careless, as Ian lends Susan his boots to keep her from cutting her feet on the glass beach, and subsequently walks across the same beach with no protection for his feet without coming to any harm.
The acid sea doesn't bear much thinking about. Even if, as is implied, it's artificial rather than a natural occurrence, there's still the question of how it is sustained. Still, it's probably the most original concept in the episode, and a fair bit more interesting than the corny shenanigans with the rotating walls.
The direction in this episode is a bit sloppy, with assorted characters failing to spot objects or beings within their line of sight, a momentary glimpse of one of the production team behind a rotating wall panel, a fight sequence that somehow results in a Voord stabbing himself in the back, and Arbitan's clutching his chest when a knife is thrust into his back. Sometimes actors are unfairly blamed when there's a mismatch between where they are seen to be wounded and where they act as if they've been hit - blaster FX and the like are added afterwards, so it's the fault of the effects team for not matching the ray to the performance. However, George Coulouris has no such excuse here, as he's struck down with a physical prop, and should at least have noticed which side of his body it was on.
Dialogue indicates that the Voords (that's the plural used, at least initially) are people, and that the party on the island are all wearing acid-proof rubber suits. This detail seems to have been forgotten at some point - while the term 'alien Voord' is accurate in so far as they're natives of Marinus rather than Earth, it generally carries with it a sense of 'non-humanoid', and the rubber suits are taken as being their actual skin.
Civil liberties groups wouldn't like the Conscience, would they? The idea of using a machine to dispense justice is alarming enough even before we move on to the issue of using it to influence people's minds and determine right and wrong for them. Worse still, at this point in the story everyone seems to see that as a good thing, its only drawback being that those unaffected by it are free to do as they like to everyone else. I suspect that Nation is trying to make some kind of point similar to his examination of the weaknesses of pacifism in his earlier script, but this time there's no direct parallel with anything in the real world, so the message is confused.
Yet again the TARDIS crew are unwilling to get involved, and they only agree to undertake Arbitan's quest because he forces them to (and, given that he's struck down straight after they depart, the force field around the TARDIS ought really to still be there when the time travellers return). I shall be glad when that aspect of the formula gets dropped, as it's already becoming tiresome.
The Velvet Web
The resolution of the cliffhanger from the previous episode really is poor – not quite on a level with rewriting the scene to contradict what the audience saw, but still a big cop-out. Whatever the audience were expecting to have happened to Barbara, the revelation that she’d merely scratched herself must have come as a massive anticlimax.
I may be reading far too much into a random choice of fruit, but the Doctor’s selection of a pomegranate reminded me of the myth of Proserpina in the underworld. Parallels between the situation in Morphoton and the legend are vague at best, but if it is a very subtle hint that the city is not the paradise that it seems, it’s a neat one.
There’s a reminder that at this stage in the series’ history the Doctor is not considered the hero in the fact that it’s Ian who is suspicious about the hospitality and generosity offered, and picks up on Altos’ not blinking. His having been the only one to suspect that something was amiss also enhances the shock value of his turning on Barbara after succumbing to the influence of the tackily-named Mesmeron.
It’s a bit rubbish that the TARDIS crew only escape being enslaved because Barbara moves her head and causes the disc to fall off. Random chance is an unavoidable part of real life, but it rarely convinces as a plot point. Still, the sequences where only Barbara can see the reality of the situation are very well-handled, especially in view of the technical limitations of the time the story was made. Changing Altos’ costume depending on the perspective used would have been a tricky business back then, requiring camera breaks or shooting out of order, either of which could have been considered too much bother for one effect. Kudos to the production team for making the effort.
If Terry Nation has been trying to come up with a new monster as effective as the Daleks in this story, he hasn’t done very well. Despite mild similarities between the Morpho and the Daleks (principally their both being organic creatures in a protective casing), these plummy-voiced brains with eyestalks simply do not compare. It doesn’t help that they die so easily (even more so than intended, most of their jars remaining intact despite Jacqueline Hill’s attempts to smash them), but even if they had proved more robust, I can’t imagine that they’d ever have caught on. Too immobile for playground reenactments, and no catchphrase. Morphomania was never going to happen, was it?
The Screaming Jungle
Again the cliffhanger fizzles out, with the sound that was so terrifying Susan just stopping (indeed, it's not even in the reprise, so anyone who missed The Velvet Web will have no idea why she's freaking out). Given this story's track record to date, it would hardly seem surprising if the next episode were to start with a freak heat wave eliminating the menace to Ian and Barbara.
Susan is particularly annoying this episode, bordering on hysterical, and her departure around half way through almost comes as a relief. This is rather a sexist episode, all things considered. Apart from Susan's reduction to shrieking cipher, there's also Barbara's complaining of Ian's overprotectiveness just before she walks straight into a trap, as if to prove that acting independent is sure to get women into trouble.
The various traps which beset Ian and Barbara are all decidedly hokey, and the descending spikes are robbed of much of their menace by the juddering stop-and-start way in which they come down. It appears that Arbitan is guilty of criminal negligence, given that he's supposed to have told the people he sent how to avoid the traps. I have to wonder if Terry Nation planned this story out in advance or just made it up as he went along.
Another unwelcome cliché makes its first appearance in Doctor Who here. Yes, it's the ever-tiresome 'dying person provides a needlessly cryptic clue before expiring' routine. If Darrius had time to go on about the whispering and the darkness, he had time to say the word 'jar'. But no, he rambles on about a threat they wouldn't even have been around long enough to face if he could have been bothered to express himself more clearly. Twit!
The business with the plants doesn't entirely make sense. Darrius' notes make out that the rate at which nature overcomes the man-made has become greatly accelerated, which is fair enough. However, the plants don't act like a sped-up natural process. They actively attack people, and flinch away from the risk of being spotted. This is sentience and malevolence, not just overly rapid growth. The FX for the plants aren't too impressive, either, though they do evoke a little menace when breaking windows and forcing aside planks. It's only when the vines on strings come to the attack that they really disappoint. In a way they're symbolic of the way this story is turning out - an ambitious concept, but beyond the capabilities of the production team to effectively realise on screen.
The Snows of Terror
Though not as bad as my facetious suggestion, rescue by a complete stranger is still something of a cop-out as cliffhanger resolutions go. It doesn’t help that Vasor’s actions don’t make a lot of sense. Why let Altos force him to help Ian and Barbara, and then overpower him and tie him up for the wolves? Surely it would have been simpler to attack him while he was preoccupied with trying to save the two teachers, abandon him and Ian in the snowy wastes, and drag Barbara back to the hut alone. Clearly the isolation has harmed his ability to think straight.
Considering how cold it’s supposed to be, nobody seems to be making that much of an effort to shield themselves from the low temperatures. Yes, there are the furs, but what about gloves and headgear? Ian’s even wandering around in a near-blizzard with short sleeves on. Then again, he is a chemistry teacher, and most of the chemistry teachers at my secondary school also taught rugby, which tended to involve lots of running around in the cold in clothes that left great stretches of limb exposed, so maybe he’s used to it.
Another lapse on Ian's part is that, having discovered Vasor's treachery, he leaves the travel dials and keys in the hut when forcing the trapper to take him, Barbara and Altos to the cave where the others are sheltering. Even if the plan was to return the borrowed furs once it was time to move on, having him present as a guide would have made it easy to hand them back to him before moving on to the next location. As it is, everyone has to make an unnecessary journey back through the snow.
For the most part the cave sets are quite good, though the chasm doesn't look particularly wide. It's also obvious that the icicles used for building the replacement bridge are made of polystyrene, as the broken-off end of one of them is clearly shown.
The ice soldiers are quite effective 'monsters' when they first start to revive, though their menace is soon diluted by the very slow plod with which they give chase. They can move quickly enough when it suits the plot, dashing towards the ice block Ian brings down to bar their way, and racing towards the chasm once the bridge has been put out of action again. The reactions of the three who manage not to fall over the edge are a good deal more comical than I imagine was intended.
This episode implies that the travel dials don't all transport their wearers to the same place. While it is just about plausible that Altos could have split up from Susan and Sabetha after the three of them arrived, that still doesn't explain why Ian is the only person to appear in the room with the final key at the end of the episode. Where did everyone else go?
Sentence of Death
There may be historical precedents for a legal system like the one used in Millennius, but it's hardly what might be expected of a so-called 'highly civilised society'. It's surprising that murder is such a rare crime there, with the automatic assumption of guilt making it so easy to pin the blame on others. It should be possible for a writer to create an alien legal system that isn't completely absurd. Indeed, Tarron's confusion when Barbara mentions fingerprinting is one small example of just that. The use of psychometric testing in its place is moving into the realm of pseudoscience, though. Even so, it’s far from the most ridiculous aspect of the set-up.
While the ensemble cast kept the Doctor's absence from the last couple of episodes from being all that noticeable, it is good to have him back. William Hartnell's break seems to have done him a lot of good, as he throws himself into the investigation with some vigour. The Doctor's refusal to disclose the hiding place of the stolen key is tiresome, though. Could this be Doctor Who's first case of "I'll explain later" syndrome, even if that specific phrase isn't used here?
Aydan isn't much of a villain, is he? All right, so he didn't willingly get involved, but even so, the ease with which he is twice made to blurt out self-incriminating details show him to be a very poor choice of conspirator. He'd probably have been found out within minutes if Ian hadn't been there to frame (and what was the plan before Ian so obligingly turned up to be framed? Hope the Guardians would assume that the killer had just vanished into thin air, or that Eprin had clubbed himself to death and hidden the key?).
Ludicrous as the legal system is, the Doctor's getting Sabetha to tell lies in court in order to expose the killer is still a bit much. Then again, the judges' reaction to being told of the deception suggests that perjury isn't a crime (have I mentioned how idiotic I find the legal system here?). Perhaps most alarming is the Doctor's assertion that, "The results justifies the means."
Preposterous though the reason for Ian's being sentenced to death is (why don't they at least wait for the results of the tests on the gun used to kill Aydan? Stupid, stupid legal system!), it does make for an effective cliffhanger. Or rather, it would if not for the unnecessary tacking-on of Susan's kidnapping and threatened death. Why should the remaining conspirators believe that the Doctor knows where the key is when he’s openly resorted to a bluff involving another one? Susan’s call doesn’t even have the same impact as the pronouncement of Ian’s sentence, so it’s just a wasted opportunity.
The Keys of Marinus
The use of alien time units in setting the deadline for Ian’s execution robs the situation of some of its menace, simply because it makes it unclear to the audience how long he has left. The clock with just one hand doesn’t clarify matters, because there’s no way of knowing how quickly that hand rotates. Even if similarities with Earth clocks are assumed (which is a pretty big assumption), Ian could still have around twenty minutes or closer to four hours.
While I’m going on about the alien aspects of Marinus, I might as well raise the question of just how alien the planet’s supposed to be. Even if the use of the word ‘human’ is supposed to mean ‘humanoid’ rather than ‘Earth-descended’, the Doctor’s name-dropping of Pyrrho contains the implicit assumption that the people of Marinus are familiar with Earth culture. On the other hand, there’s the claim that Arbitan created the Conscience, which would imply an incredibly long lifespan for the locals, given that the machine was supposed to have been in operation for seven centuries before Yartek became immune to its effect.
Kala proves as inept a conspirator as her late husband, carelessly giving away her involvement without even being tricked into it. Her going to gloat at Susan after Barbara and the others leave is also unwise. All right, so she doesn’t know that Barbara and Susan did some eavesdropping after their earlier visit, but it’s still an unnecessary risk. Especially as, judging by the ease with which Susan’s rescuers get back in once they realise that Kala had a hand in the kidnapping, she didn’t even bother to lock the front door.
The solution to the mystery of where the stolen key is hidden doesn’t make a great deal of sense. While the Doctor’s logic is sound as far as it goes – if there’s only one place that hasn’t been searched, that must be where it is – it doesn’t explain why nobody checked the mace while they were checking everything else. And why design a mace with a hidden compartment in its head anyway?
It’s been a few days since the quest began, so I wonder why the Voords are still wearing their rubber suits. Don’t they get uncomfortable? It also seems highly impractical to devise acid-proof protective clothing with holes for the eyes and mouth, but such holes are clearly visible in Yartek’s facemask during his interrogation of Sabetha.
So, Ian and Susan return to ‘Arbitan’, whose voice is nothing like it was when he sent them on their quest, and whose hood fails to disguise the fact that his head is now the size of a Voord’s mask. Yet it’s only his claim not to know Altos that arouses their suspicions that he might not really be Arbitan. Funny how people can overlook the obvious and pick up on minor details instead, eh?
The use of the false key from The Screaming Jungle to trick Yartek is neat, and at last we get an acknowledgement that controlling people’s minds with a machine might not be that great an idea after all. Maybe having experienced it courtesy of the Morpho caused the Doctor to revise his opinion on the matter. I don’t know how much of an issue the balance (or lack thereof) between security and freedom was back when this story was made, but it’s certainly a major one nowadays, and it’s something of a disappointment that the topic is only touched upon so briefly. There’s too much emphasis on the rollicking adventure, and not enough on the more thought-provoking elements of the story – a problem that still crops up in the series at times even now.
|
|
|
