Doctor
Who is a lovely example of the wise adage, ‘Less is more’, along with the
philosophy, ‘Wise adages are for wimps, let’s give it a try anyway.’ Every now
and then, its makers decide to go epic, grand, Cecil B. DeMille crazy. The
temptation is there: your canvas is the size of the history of the Universe,
can you really restrict your painting to one corner at a time? And when Doctor
Who goes epic, the running time always goes up – possibly to stretch the budget
a bit further, possibly to fit in extra world-building and character stuff.
From
The Daleks’ Master Plan to The End of Time, via Evil of the Daleks, The Invasion and The War
Games, with Day of the Doctor thrown in for good measure: small is beautiful but big is special.
And so with Frontier in Space and its
sequel Planet of the Daleks.
These
last two are interesting, in that they’re essentially a remake of that big
Hartnell mega-story. Future dystopias, Global Presidents struggling to hold
onto power, prison ships, weird-looking aliens in galactic peace treaties, and
the Daleks: they’re all here. The Monk has been supplanted by the Master. Jo,
like Katarina, is imprisoned in an airlock, though she comes out of that a bit
better. It’s a bold idea, for an era without VHS: to return to the ideas, and ‘reimagine’
them for the new era.
They
skipped the Dixon of Dock Green parody, but then, life isn't fair.
I’m
a big fan of The Daleks’ Master Plan,
and a 1970s tribute is justified. I wouldn’t have minded another remake with
Davison, Ainley, Davros and Beryl Reid – and another with Smith, Kingston
It’s
a very good story for Jo. She gets a lot of funny lines, two good outfits, she
talks sense to the Draconian Emperor and puts the Master in his place: ‘Oh
well, can’t win ‘em all!’ In fact, she gives us perhaps the big moment of the
story, even the season. Rejecting the Master’s hypnosis, she then overcomes his
little box of frights. This is a story about the power of fear, but ‘It doesn’t
work on me any more,’ says Jo.
It’s
a timely bit of progression, with only two more stories of Ms Grant still to
enjoy. When a companion isn’t scared any more, it’s probably time for somebody
new.
Unfortunately,
it’s not timely in a narrative sense. Really this should be the conclusion of
the story, not thrown away as a cliff-hanger resolution. It’s typical of a
story that never quite knows when it’s underway. Rather peculiarly, the Daleks
travel across space to wave from a cliff-top, then set off for home: a twist
delayed too far, another cliff-hanger missed. This is the thing about
over-extending Who: it never ends well. Or, it might end well and open well,
but for several episodes in the middle you’ll be checking your watch.
Never
when Roger Delgado is onscreen, though. I’m not big on the Doctor having a
recurring nemesis, but there’s no two ways about it – this works. Has worked.
It’s the end of an era. The end of a true peer for the Doctor, now that the
Brigadier’s been rewritten as a military buffoon; the end of a superb, sharp
counterpoint to the Doctor and Jo’s almost oversweet moral certainty; the end
of a delicious performance, which Malcolm Hulke supplies with endless riches:
the Master has more character moments, victories and funny lines than the
Doctor's had all season.
Perhaps
that's the real reason this story never quite galvanises. The Doctor fades into
a rather bland hero: even his outfit seems less dandyish, somehow, shirts less
frill-fronted, frock coat less frockish.
But
of course, the story’s not over – not in any sense. In the last five minutes,
where nothing makes sense, the Doctor is fatally wounded. In a Tenth
Planet-esque effort of will, he clutches the console, desperately contacting
the Time Lords. The Tardis flies into the darkness – the atmosphere is grave –
the scene is set...
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