DOCTOR WHO: SEASON-BY-SEASON - SEASON TWENTY-SIX

"THERE ARE WORLDS, OUT THERE, WHERE THE SKY IS BURNING...."    

We're here. We've reached the final days of Classic Who. It's all very sad, of course. But, if we're being really honest, it could have been much worse. We could have actually been pleased that the show was ending. That Doctor Who had gotten so bad that it needed to be put down once and for all. That the embarrassment was finally over. 

Instead, we got the exact opposite.  Many of us wept hatedly when Doctor Who went off the air because it was absolutely brilliant at the time. It might have even been at its very best. What an absolute shame it was to see it get chopped off at the knees. Just as it was producing content that was years ahead of its time. It was not just entertaining and engaging television, it was the sort of stuff that left you genuinely impressed by its artistic merit. 

Basically, if you have to end a show - this is the note to go out on....

"....WHERE THE SEA'S ASLEEP AND THE RIVERS DREAM...."

As was the case with Season Twenty-Five, there's a "weak link" in this season, too. In this case, it starts the whole year off. Which, in some ways, is a good place for it. From here, things just get better. 

I call Battlefield the weakest story of the season but it's not because it's genuinely bad. It's more a case of just having to compete with some other material that is so outlandishly excellent that it feels a little lower in quality. But I still enjoy a lot about this adventure. 

It's most significant trait is the fact that this will be the last time we will see Nick Courtney in his most beloved of roles (no, I'm not talking about Brett Vyon!). You can, of course, make the point that he does return in Sarah Jane Adventures but I don't really count the spin-off stuff as canon. So, as far as I'm concerned, this is where the Brigadier makes his last stand.  

It's a damned good one. The Brig gets some great dialogue and does all kinds of wickedly cool stuff. Including, of course, taking out a world-eating demon that was about to consume the Earth. It's an awesome note for the character to go out on. Instead of finishing off his presence on the show as an unlikely math teacher recovering from a nervous breakdown, he saves the world one last time. It's a great final memory to have of the character. It might have even been a good idea to kill him off, here. Which I believe, at one point, had been the intention. 

But there's more to Battlefield than just the Brigadier. 

While shortening the seasons has saddened my heart, it has led to certain advantages. One that we see greatly on display during Battlefield. Prior to the 14-part season, action sequences tended to be a bit of an embarrassment on Doctor Who. A good fight scene requires a lot of time and attention in order to look convincing. Most production teams just didn't have the proper resources to accomplish this, though. Which could be very unfortunate since Doctor Who is an adventure series and, therefore, requires some action now and again to propel the plot along. 

Some of 70s Who was fortunate enough  to have access to some very dedicated stuntmen who did get certain sequences to work quite nicely. But the only other period that really had the resources to put together some great action was this one. Having to get less episodes "in the can" per season now meant they could take their time a bit more and get those fight scenes to work. When you're producing a story called Battlefield there's probably going to be quite a few altercations going on!  Most of them end up looking quite good. Which is nice. Poorly-executed action sequences in a story this dependent on them would have been painful to sit through! 

The other thing that really stands out for me with this tale is how it demonstrates an increasing effort to make the show more timey-whimey (not sure if I spelt that right and there's not really a way to check it!).  An attempt had been made in the previous season but had ended up getting cut out in the final version of Silver Nemesis that went to air. But, this time, making time travel more than just the device that gets the Doctor and companion(s) into the story was far more intrinsic to the plot. I love the idea that the whole story is a sequel to an adventure the Doctor has yet to have. It's just the sort of thing you should see happening in a time traveller's life once in a while. It's all very cleverly structured. I particularly love how one of the main conflicts is solved by just having the future Doctor leave a note for himself! 

It would be nice, of course, to produce some episodes that finally show the current Doctor "going sideways in time" and having adventures in this Arthurian Dimension. Where he assumes the identity of Merlin  and spirits away the King's corpse to our reality. He then leaves a note for himself in the tomb he constructs. But I know it would never happen. It's just far too contrived. We will only ever see this side of the whole plot and that's okay. Cause it's quite brilliant even without ever getting the full picture. 

I mentioned in my last Review how much I enjoy the "Evil Girl Power" of the Seventh Doctor Era. Morgaine is yet another great villainess. But there's one more prominent trait during this phase of the show that Battlefield shows off quite nicely. During this period, Sylvester McCoy is written some of the most amazing speeches that he delivers beautifully. We loved it in Season Twenty-Five when he talks the roof sniper out of using his gun in Happiness Patrol. And it's totally awesome when he, literally, monologues the Black Dalek to death in Remembrance. But his description of a nuclear war that he delivers to Morgaine while trying to abort the launch of a missile might just be the best one of the bunch. It resonates on several levels. While it is mainly an attempt to appeal to the sorceress' sense of honor (so cool that the baddies of the story actually adhere to such a code), it also speaks of the fears all of us were experiencing as we lived under the shadow of the Cold War. It's a really great moment that demonstrates the Doctor's "brains over brawn" philosophy. Rather than coming at Morgaine with some Venusian aikido or something like that, he reasons with her.  And triumphs.   

With all this praise that I'm singing, you might be wondering why I actually consider this story the weak one in the season. I suppose if I were to be super harshly critical, I would say that Battlefield would have probably flowed better as a three-parter. Episode Two does feel like it's got a bit of unnecessary padding to it. It's barely noticeable, but it's there. 

"....CITIES MADE OF SMOKE AND PEOPLE MADE OF SONG ...." 

Next up, of course, is the ever-enigmatic Ghostlight. I spoke in my last Review of the "Ambiguous Story-telling" that starts to proliferate during this period. Well, it doesn't get much more ambiguous than Ghostlight!   

I always say that you can take six Doctor Who fans and put them in separate sound-proof rooms so they can't hear each other. Then ask them to describe the plot to Ghostlight. You will get half-a-dozen different explanations!    

Which is what I love most about this tale. You decide what you think it's about. It's all left so subjective that interpretations will wildly vary. The boldness of creating a story in such a manner on what is meant to be a popular family TV show astounds me to this day. I'm still amazed this script was ever produced. And I don't just mean on Doctor Who. But by anyone! 

Just in case you care: I think Light is a sentient quasi-organic computer created by an ancient civilisation that was already highly-advanced when the Universe was still young. Like the Time Lords, they had begun to stagnate (which is why Light has the attitude that he does). But they still acknowledged that there were parts of the Universe that needed exploring. So they created Light. They gave him a ship and a crew of sorts and sent him off into the cosmos to survey certain corners of it that they had yet to peak into. Light makes it to Prehistoric Earth but has over-extended his resources to get there. So he puts himself and the ship into a sort of standby mode to recharge. Leaving his crew to look after things as he sleeps. From there, of course, complications ensue....

That's my appraisal, of course, but it doesn't need to match yours. Take Ghostlight whichever way you want! 

Some more gorgeous speeches crop up in this one. The Doctor describing the things that he detests is always well-liked. But I really love the end where Seven monologues another opponent to death. The way he drives Light to insanity by noting all the mythical creatures he has failed to document is positively brilliant. Again, another great demonstration of the Time Lord genuinely using his wits to save the day. 

Sylvester is making some strange choices with some of his more serious moments during this season. There's a good demonstration of it during the "I didn't get caught napping!" confrontation that he has with Light. He seems to be almost having difficulty delivering the line with the proper level of intensity. He even seems a tad comical. 

Given that he had no trouble last season doing any of the dramatic stuff, I'm guessing that the execution is intentional. He wants to appear slightly ineffectual in that moment. This does, often, suit the context of the scenes where he performs in such a manner. Even in the scene with Light that I just mentioned, he seems to be flustered. He's trying to put out too many fires at once and it's got him distracted. So he can't quite manage the level of menace he's trying to create. 

Of course, others are prone to saying that Sylvester's acting chops weren't up for the challenge. They feel this all-the-more strongly since McCoy is better known for his comedic roles than dramatic. To such individuals I must, once more, bring up my "if you don't like it in 80s Who then you have to complain about the way it happens in Golden Age Who too!" argument and invite them to watch those final few minutes of Spearhead from Space. Where the silly face Pertwee is making completely ruins any tension the Nestene's tentacle attack on the Doctor was meant to have. They should also investigate several other instances during Seasons Seven and Eight where he resorts to the "gurn" he keeps doing whenever he is meant to be suffering torment. This, to me, is a genuine example of an actor playing the Doctor failing to meet what a scene requires of him. The stuff McCoy briefly does during Season Twenty-Six is far more subjective. He really could be playing the lines that way on purpose rather than failing to deliver them with the gravitas needed of him. Whereas Pertwee is genuinely acting poorly when he gives us his gurn. 

"....SOMEWHERE, THERE'S DANGER. SOMEWHERE, THERE'S INJUSTICE...." 

Curse of Fenric is, pretty much, flawless. I do tend to favor the Director's Cut (or Extended Version or whatever-you-want-to-call-it) which does have an excellent flow to it. The cut-for-time version that ended up being transmitted on television does feel ever-so-slightly choppy. in places. But that's about the only problem I can legitimately find with it. This is yet another story that nearly makes it into my Top Ten (I envision a whole slew of tales that are all tied in Eleventh Place!). 

At this point, the Seventh Doctor is deeply immersed in his role as the Cosmic Chessplayer. His battles, quite frequently, are on a smaller scale. He's freeing the Psychic Circus of the Gods of Ragnarok or dealing with the sense of evil Ace felt when she burnt down an abandoned Victorian mansion in Perivale.. But, occasionally, he has more epic battles. Like the ones that took place during Remembrance of the Daleks and Silver Nemesis. In those, he takes out a major threat to the Universe. Curse of Fenric is another of his great fights. This time, however, there are no Ancient Gallifreyan Superweapons in sight! 

I make this jest but I do appreciate just how differently this plot plays out from his other two epic battles. He doesn't have the Hand of Omega or some Validium to assist him, but he's still deadly powerful. Almost god-like. It took some time to build the character up in such a manner. We had to watch him stumble around for quite a bit during Season Twenty-Four. But now, he really is awesome. This just might be the best interpretation of the role in the whole history of the show. And he shines particularly well in Curse of Fenric. I would have loved so much more of the Doctor like this. Strolling into these seemingly simple situations with deep, complex intentions. Saving worlds with manipulation and deceit. Such a great direction for the character to go in.  

The number of ongoing arcs that run through Fenric make it even more impressive. We are mid-way through the Tutelage of Ace (what's that about? Read here: https://robtymec.blogspot.com/2017/08/analytical-companion-retrospectives-2_31.html)  This time, she must learn to let go of past resentments.. There are some vague hints of the Catmel Masterplan (but then, most hints of this are extremely vague!). But, most significantly, it deals with an arc that's been happening under our noses the whole time without us knowing it. Since the ending of Season Twenty-Four, Fenric has been slowly-but-inexorably drawing the Doctor towards him. Til, at last, they can meet for a final confrontation. Whether this was genuinely being woven into the last two seasons or the writer just used some things that had happened in previous stories to his advantage - who can say for sure? But it's a brilliant moment when Fenric reveals his presence in the Doctor's life over the last little while (and equally cool when the Doctor tells him he's known it the whole time). It shows just how great of a vision Cartmel was creating throughout this era. This is magnifiecent story-telling. Not just for Doctor Who, but television, in general. Lately, TV execs have been getting really good at staying out of the way of the writers and  letting them do some really complex stuff. Particularly with ongoing arcs. But a lot of it still doesn't touch the level of sophistication we see in these last two seasons. And these stories were made over thirty years ago. It's truly gorgeous. 

Curse of Fenric is an absolute triumph. It's got all the great superficial stuff that a good Who story needs. A chilling villain, scary monsters (so cool how faith repels them), the Doctor being clever and heroic, Ace kicking ass, some great concepts at work, etc.... But, just like Maiden's Point, it also has deep undercurrents that are there for us to enjoy if we want to. 

An absolute Classic. 

"...SOMEWHERE ELSE, THE TEA IS GETTING COLD...." 

Rona Munro holds the distinction of being the only writer to have contributed to both New and Classic Who (thus far, at least, maybe they'll eventually let a few more of the surviving Classic Series veterans take a crack). She certainly deserves such an honor since both of her scripts are quite excellent. I'm most impressed by how diverse of an author she is. She tells two stories that are very distinct from each other. You almost can't tell that they're written by the same person.   

It will, of course, be quite some time before we get to Eaters of Light, but we'll definitely discuss the merits of Survival right now!   

Commissioning Rona was a brilliant choice by Andrew Cartmel. At this point, he had built an excellent stable of writers who were producing fantastic scripts (even if some of their work was a little rougher in Season Twenty Four!). Stephen Wyatt, Marc Platt and Ben Aaronovitch (to name a few) were all delivering great material. But Andrew was making sure there was always a bit of "new blood" coming in. It was a great way to ensure that things stayed fresh. Adding Munro to the mix definitely achieved this. She offers us a very different story from what all the other writers were contributing and really changes the tone of the whole season. But, at the same time, it still fits in nicely with everything else that came out that year. 

The core message of Survival is fairly obvious.The basic idea that civilisation cannot prosper on a Survival of the Fittest mentality is illustrated on all sorts of levels throughout the plot. Even the two shopkeepers in Part One complaining about having to work on a Sunday echo the idea. At no point, however, do we feel the moral of the story is hitting us over the head like a hammer.  It's portrayed succinctly but subtly. 

Fans claiming this was Anthony Ainley's best performance as the Master always felt like a bit of a bank-handed compliment to me. It implies that this is the way he should have been playing the part the whole time and that he only figured it out after several years. For the most part, I liked the way Ainley chewed up the scenery during his reign. Playing the role in a more subdued manner was probably done to convey that the Master was being affected by the Planet of the Cheetah People. The scene in Part Three where he is trying to keep himself under control as he stares into the mirror always struck me as being really intense and well-executed. He also makes a wickedly savage expression whenever he bares those fangs! 

All in all, Ainley is great here. But I prefer to think he's always been great. 

The popular complaint about the Cheetah People does confound me a bit. Lots of folks say they look too much like Puss in Boots. An anthropomorphic cat wearing clothes certainly has that connotation. But I'd hardly say they look exactly like the popular children's character. This isn't another Bertie Bassett situation! I'd even go so far to say that they're really great costumes. Even under modern-day scrutiny, these look like humanoid cat creatures rather than the "artistes in unconvincing costumes" scenarios that we got for most of the show's run! 

Aside from looking good, the Cheetah People are also convincingly-written. Just like actual cats, they love to toy with their prey. So you're less likely to get attacked if you don't make any sudden moves. And if you do try to run from them, you're definitely dead. Clearly, Rona knew how felines work! 

I also like the whole concept of how the planet can, literally, infect you and change your physiology. It's particularly cool how committing acts of violence seems to accelerate the process. It's all very cleverly done. Which shows us the author isn't just trying to get up on a soapbox. She's also done some excellent world-building. 

The motorcycle collision is not the easiest sequence to deal with. The actual explosion looked quite good. It's the aftermath that's a bit hard to swallow.  Midge dies with a bit of soot on his face and the Doctor lands on a conveniently-placed old couch that is a ridiculous distance away from where the bikes hit each other. It's largely unconvincing. 

This is, however, the only shortcoming to the story. Otherwise, Survival is as brilliant as the rest of the season. And, as I said, Munro gives things a very different flavor from what the Boys' Club was writing at the time! 

"...COME ON, ACE. WE'VE GOT WORK TO DO!" 

And, just like that, Doctor Who is done. No grand final adventure. No huge upset in the Doctor's life. No Daleks, Cybermen, the Master, the Sontarans and the Ice Warriors uniting in some epic battle to defeat him once and for all (although I have just vaguely described Power of the Doctor!). Just the Doctor and Ace walking into the sunset with a nice monologue in voiceover. 

And yet, it works quite nicely. 

Doctor Who may have died. But it did it with dignity. Its last two years were some of the best. In fact, I'll take Seasons Twenty-Five and Twenty-Six over so much else the show produced. I know folks go on endlessly about stuff like Pyramids of Mars or Genesis of the Daleks and the stories that surround them. But I look at such tales and just see a plot about an Osiran god being provided by his goalers with the means of escape from his own prison and a six parter that, if you take out all the captures-and-escapes, is only about two (that also has a cliffhanger as bad as the first episode of Dragonfire)! Whereas when I look at the fruits of Carmel's labor in his final two runs, I see a tonne of amazing material with only a small handful of legitimate missteps . It's a pity that Who gets cancelled, of course. Especially since Season Twenty-Seven sounded like it was going to be more magnificence. But I'm glad I could, at least, be proud of how glorious the show was during its final days. 

And, of course, it wasn't really gone. It would try to come back in 1996 and give us just a little bit more Sylvester McCoy. And then it would return properly in 2005. Many would note just how heavily-influenced it would be by these final two seasons. The Doctor would continue to be a fairly sneaky and ruthless bastard. Just as he had started being in his seventh incarnation. And a tremendous amount of attention would go towards developing the companion. The same level of attention Ace was getting. This, more than anything, shows how good Doctor Who was during this time. It has left indelible marks on the show that all future seasons pay their respects to. 

So I'm glad we get such a simple ending to Survival. The implication that's made is that the Doctor and Ace will continue their adventures without us. And that, more than likely, the Time Lord will lose his current companion and go on to find others. Just as he's always done. Which is exactly what will happen. It takes quite a while for us to properly re-join the Doctor on his travels, but we are given some of the best final memories of him before we get to see him again.