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Well, William Hartnell won out over Jon Pertwee. No offence, Jon - it's just that I haven't watched any black and white Who in a while, and I do love that original TARDIS team. Until the arrival of Captain Jack, Ian Chesterton held the unrivalled position of my favouritest Who companion, and he's still a pretty close second now. "The Reign Of Terror" is a six part adventure, though rather annoyingly it's got bits missing. In fact the episode that seems best of all is still missing, which is just downright unfair. Never seen this adventure before, anyway, though the Target novelisation has been a favourite of mine for years. Ian Marter wrote fabulous novelisations. Rather too fabulous as times, perhaps, as the episodes can't always match up to his good work. No worries about that so far with this one, though. This is lovely stuff.
Big difference between this and the seventies stuff I watched earlier in the week. The Pertwee years were a different kind of fun altogether - all colours and action and flash derring-do. The Hartnell years are more about suspense and eeriness. Partly that's the grainy black and white photography of course, but the pace plays a part as well. So does the character of the Doctor, too. William Hartnell is about as far from Jon Pertwee as you can get. And I'm about as far from the subject as it's possible to get.
"The Reign Of Terror". Right. And if I type "Riegn" once more tonight, I'm going to hit something. Probably me.
Episode one starts brilliantly, with a lovely, creepy-looking forest, and a fabulous TARDIS dematerialisation. It's a lovely shot. Inside the TARDIS our little band is arguing again, as the Doctor is set on taking Ian and Barbara home at last, and Susan doesn't want them to go. Since, as usual, it turns out that they're nowhere near home anyway, this isn't a problem for very long, and the team sets about their usual business of being separated, bashed over the head, captured, and otherwise mixed up in awkwardness. The nastiness of the post-revolution mood in France is very well conveyed from the outset, with a gallant, heroic type being gunned down by a mob of soldiers, who then set about arresting Ian, Barbara and Susan on sod all charge, and damn near executing them on the spot. In the event the crew is carted off to Paris, instead, as apparently marching three prisoners miles across the country so that they can be guillotined, is less effort than shooting them. Or at least, I think that was the argument. Anyway, the mob then sets about burning down the house in which the currently bashed-over-the-head Doctor is helplessly sprawled. He wakes up trapped in a room, with smoke billowing in everywhere, and flames licking at the roof. Which is interesting, as in the seventies the show got into terrible trouble for ending an episode with the Fourth Doctor apparently being drowned - yet here they end an episode with the First Doctor apparently choking to death in a house fire. And I know which scene I find the most graphic and eye-opening. I wonder if it caused any trouble when it was broadcast back in 1964?
In episode two the Doctor is saved by a young English boy who lives nearby. France positively bristles with Englishmen. I know, I know - telepathic TARDIS circuitry. Except they hadn't thought that one up yet in 1964. Not that it matters, and it's certainly far better than having everybody speak clumsy French, or with false French accents. Just makes me smile. He's such a well-spoken, well-educated, filthy French peasant. Anyway, he tells the Doctor that Ian and co have been taken off to Paris, so the Doctor sets off in pursuit, pausing en route to tussle with a road-building crew, and indulge in one of his periodic acts of violence - in this case bashing a man over the head with a spade. He clearly relishes it, too. A vicious sod, was One.
The rest of the gang is in Paris by now, meanwhile, arriving in excellent shape, and clean as three whistles. Which is remarkable, as the Doctor had been walking for ages - most of the day, by the look of things - before he happened upon a sign that said Paris was still sixteen kilometres away. Marched all that way, hands tied, and the gang look as fresh as when they left the TARDIS. Barbara and Susan have the decency to look mildly ruffled after a little while in their cell, but Ian remains spectacularly clean and shiny. Literally. His shirt is so white that it glows, even after he's thrown against the filthy wall by a nasty type. Said nasty type has Ian taken off the execution list, as he suspects that a wounded prisoner passed on some kind of message before he died, and that Ian might have vital information about something or other and somebody or other. Whatever it is, it involves a grey dog. Anyway, Ian watches as Barbara and Susan are whisked away to the guillotine. Crikey! I hope they don't get beheaded!
I'm loving this. Sixties Who, back in the days of Ian and Barbara, is wonderful stuff. It looks wobbly and cheap by today's standards, sure, but it's as well made as any other drama on TV back then, and it's obviously made with love. Yes, somebody trips over a camera at one point, and yes, some of those 'outdoor' scenes are obviously done in a studio, but who cares? If you can't see past stuff like that, to the damn good story beneath, then you don't know what you're missing.
Shiny pictures:
The gang in the TARDIS at the beginning of episode one.
Ian and Barbara try to point out to the Doctor that, just because he thinks they're in England in 1963,
doesn't mean that they're not actually on the Planet Zog in the year 3071.
Either that or they're trying to seduce him.
Aw. Don't they make a lovely couple.
The Doctor and his Rupert Bear trousers face death by smoke inhalation.
Before being rescued by a not-very-French young boy.
The others, meanwhile, have been teleported to Paris.
Where a fabulously despicable prison warden sentences them to death,
then does an evil look straight at the camera, just to prove how bad he is.
Ian proves that he washes his clothes in Daz.
After inadvertently becoming very valuable, thanks to a dead man and a grey dog,
Ian and his glowing white shirt are left behind when the others go off to the guillotine.
Jeepers. What goings on! More another day. :)
Big difference between this and the seventies stuff I watched earlier in the week. The Pertwee years were a different kind of fun altogether - all colours and action and flash derring-do. The Hartnell years are more about suspense and eeriness. Partly that's the grainy black and white photography of course, but the pace plays a part as well. So does the character of the Doctor, too. William Hartnell is about as far from Jon Pertwee as you can get. And I'm about as far from the subject as it's possible to get.
"The Reign Of Terror". Right. And if I type "Riegn" once more tonight, I'm going to hit something. Probably me.
Episode one starts brilliantly, with a lovely, creepy-looking forest, and a fabulous TARDIS dematerialisation. It's a lovely shot. Inside the TARDIS our little band is arguing again, as the Doctor is set on taking Ian and Barbara home at last, and Susan doesn't want them to go. Since, as usual, it turns out that they're nowhere near home anyway, this isn't a problem for very long, and the team sets about their usual business of being separated, bashed over the head, captured, and otherwise mixed up in awkwardness. The nastiness of the post-revolution mood in France is very well conveyed from the outset, with a gallant, heroic type being gunned down by a mob of soldiers, who then set about arresting Ian, Barbara and Susan on sod all charge, and damn near executing them on the spot. In the event the crew is carted off to Paris, instead, as apparently marching three prisoners miles across the country so that they can be guillotined, is less effort than shooting them. Or at least, I think that was the argument. Anyway, the mob then sets about burning down the house in which the currently bashed-over-the-head Doctor is helplessly sprawled. He wakes up trapped in a room, with smoke billowing in everywhere, and flames licking at the roof. Which is interesting, as in the seventies the show got into terrible trouble for ending an episode with the Fourth Doctor apparently being drowned - yet here they end an episode with the First Doctor apparently choking to death in a house fire. And I know which scene I find the most graphic and eye-opening. I wonder if it caused any trouble when it was broadcast back in 1964?
In episode two the Doctor is saved by a young English boy who lives nearby. France positively bristles with Englishmen. I know, I know - telepathic TARDIS circuitry. Except they hadn't thought that one up yet in 1964. Not that it matters, and it's certainly far better than having everybody speak clumsy French, or with false French accents. Just makes me smile. He's such a well-spoken, well-educated, filthy French peasant. Anyway, he tells the Doctor that Ian and co have been taken off to Paris, so the Doctor sets off in pursuit, pausing en route to tussle with a road-building crew, and indulge in one of his periodic acts of violence - in this case bashing a man over the head with a spade. He clearly relishes it, too. A vicious sod, was One.
The rest of the gang is in Paris by now, meanwhile, arriving in excellent shape, and clean as three whistles. Which is remarkable, as the Doctor had been walking for ages - most of the day, by the look of things - before he happened upon a sign that said Paris was still sixteen kilometres away. Marched all that way, hands tied, and the gang look as fresh as when they left the TARDIS. Barbara and Susan have the decency to look mildly ruffled after a little while in their cell, but Ian remains spectacularly clean and shiny. Literally. His shirt is so white that it glows, even after he's thrown against the filthy wall by a nasty type. Said nasty type has Ian taken off the execution list, as he suspects that a wounded prisoner passed on some kind of message before he died, and that Ian might have vital information about something or other and somebody or other. Whatever it is, it involves a grey dog. Anyway, Ian watches as Barbara and Susan are whisked away to the guillotine. Crikey! I hope they don't get beheaded!
I'm loving this. Sixties Who, back in the days of Ian and Barbara, is wonderful stuff. It looks wobbly and cheap by today's standards, sure, but it's as well made as any other drama on TV back then, and it's obviously made with love. Yes, somebody trips over a camera at one point, and yes, some of those 'outdoor' scenes are obviously done in a studio, but who cares? If you can't see past stuff like that, to the damn good story beneath, then you don't know what you're missing.
Shiny pictures:
The gang in the TARDIS at the beginning of episode one.
Ian and Barbara try to point out to the Doctor that, just because he thinks they're in England in 1963,
doesn't mean that they're not actually on the Planet Zog in the year 3071.
Either that or they're trying to seduce him.
Aw. Don't they make a lovely couple.
The Doctor and his Rupert Bear trousers face death by smoke inhalation.
Before being rescued by a not-very-French young boy.
The others, meanwhile, have been teleported to Paris.
Where a fabulously despicable prison warden sentences them to death,
then does an evil look straight at the camera, just to prove how bad he is.
Ian proves that he washes his clothes in Daz.
After inadvertently becoming very valuable, thanks to a dead man and a grey dog,
Ian and his glowing white shirt are left behind when the others go off to the guillotine.
Jeepers. What goings on! More another day. :)
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