So we reach the end. But the moment has been prepared for. How well prepared? That's a matter of opinion.
Logopolis brings an end to the season of entropy by making its theme much more explicit, and also ties together all but the initial two stories of the season into a single epic finale. Though it might not seem at all epic during the first two parts. It is the second half that marks this as an epic, with among the highest offscreen death tolls in all of fiction.
This is one of those stories that takes its time, and indulges in rather a lot of rather strange events to keep the viewer interested before the real important events kick off. The mysterious Watcher, the TARDIS within the TARDIS. Tegan getting lost in the middle of the TARDIS...
The idea of paradise is an often utilised one within science fiction in one way or another. The original Star Trek series was particularly renowned for various episodes featuring a supposed Eden hiding a secret revealing that it was anything but a utopia. It is perhaps inevitable that Doctor Who would turn its hand in this general direction as well. The twist here is that Traken doesn't really have a dark secret. While it is true that the wellbeing of all within the Traken union is maintained by its Keeper, the people do seem to be very nice on their own backs.
That's one of the interesting things about Traken. The people are generally good and selfless, but not merely faceless emotionless voids that happen to occupy physical space. Far from it. These are flawed people, with their own distinctive outlooks that do disagree and do behave like people actually would.
Sounds like a boring setting even with that last part? After all, even with disagreements the people here are good people. What kind of adventure could The Doctor possibly get himself involved in here? Especially since the air of Traken is so pure that evil calcifies upon arrival. It doesn't sound like an awful lot could honestly happen here, does it?
The central tale in the E-Space trilogy takes the opportunity to make use of an idea that was previously shelved for reasons that were political and kind of silly. Back when Doctor Who had a much more gothic air about it, the natural course led towards a vampire themed tale, but alas it did manifest at that time because the BBC were producing their own Dracula drama and felt there would be competition and parallels between the two productions. Fast forward a few years, and suddenly it's perfectly viable again.
It's a peculiar twist that this adventure fits pretty well within the season of entropy. In point of fact, it thematically fits the idea far better than any other in the same year. The very idea of a society being held back by an external force, unable to progress, a societal system falling apart by complete inaction enforced upon them from on high. Science is forbidden on this world. Nothing is permitted save servitude to the Three Who Rule. But the decay of the title does not stop there. As The Doctor points out part way through, the names of the Three Who Rule are derived from the names of three others, which have decayed and mutated over the course of time under the same rules of language transformation suggested by the Brothers Grimm. Decay of language, decay of society, decay of imagination. The title couldn't be more appropriate.
The Three Who Rule are pretty great antagonists as well. Cast aside any modern image of vampires that may corrupt your perception. These are old school, all out horror styled gothic vampires that view humans as little more than cattle and use their physical and mental superiority to ensure they remain at the top and their food supply knows its place. These are not romantic figures. These are not tragic or sympathetic characters. They are monsters. And they are very effective antagonists. Every action they take throughout the story is either very intelligent or understandable given the information available to them. Their physical strength and endurance makes them impossible for a human to grapple with, and their mental control abilities make it less likely any would even try. Even The Doctor and Romana have trouble resisting this potent ability.
Some things are just plain difficult to review. It's tricky to sit down and really think about it and come up with an opinion. It's difficult to really say whether it was enjoyed or not, what was good about it or what was bad. Warrior's Gate is one of those times. Oh boy, is it ever one of those times.
One thing I can't really fault is the direction. I may not know a whole lot about that particular art, but it is easy to tell that a lot of hard work went into many of the shots in this story (the entrance to the ship and the coin in the beginning portion of the episode both look pretty impressive, even today). Unlike a lot of the rest of the season, I have no real trouble with the visual effects.
As for the story things are a bit more complicated. Well. The actual story itself isn't really hard to digest at all. It's about a ship trapped in the middle of nowhere in a very literal sense. They make use of a race of time sensitives as slave labour, namely to assist in piloting efforts. The crew are (naturally enough) a bit of a nasty lot and desperate to escape. Enter two Time Lords, and suddenly their attempts to escape take a bit of a potentially sinister turn.
Oh, Adric. If ever there was a companion disliked by the Doctor Who fanbase, this name would surely come up among the first two or three. Some view him as the original Wesley Crusher. The boy genius that rubs so many fans the wrong way through his know it all attitude, smugness and all around irritating qualities. Does he deserve that reputation?
Not at first, no.
So far as the character's introduction goes, well, it's also an introduction to the E-Space trilogy. Full Circle seems like a bit of an odd title on first glance, but the reason for it becomes increasingly apparent the more it goes on. This is a story about a society that is, quite without most of them even knowing it, going around and around in circles.
Allow me to introduce you all to the era of John Nathan-Turner. Poor old JNT wound up being the longest running producer of Doctor Who throughout it's run. He was there for pretty much the entire 80s, not that he didn't try to leave. Oh no, he did on multiple occasions but each time the BBC would "persuade him to stay just one more year." He is particularly known for his involvement in the creation of the 5th, 6th and 7th Doctors, as well as making appeals to American fans to enlarge their interest in the show.
So how does his first outing end up? Because that's what we're looking at this week. The Leisure Hive, complete with new title theme, a new general look for the show, new special effects coming along with the new producer!
Not well is the answer to that question. But let's take a look at why that is.
Leisure Hive was a disappointing start to the season, but unfortunately the momentum doesn't seem to be building up all that well quite yet. If Meglos is an improvement in any capacity it's going to require a team of specialists to locate the improvement. It's a sloppy mess with more problems than I can probably deal with too effectively.
Where might be the best place to start? Well, how about this: The villain is a talking cactus. I repeat. The villain is a talking cactus. Now, I grant that he doesn't spend much of the story in cactus form, but that doesn't really change matters. He is still in point of fact a cactus with a genius intellect with no visible means of communication, yet it has a distinctly warbly voice and an appropriately needly personality. If all of the above sounds like a parody of a Doctor Who villain, well, I can hardly disagree with you. It really does sound exactly what would happen were I to write a Doctor Who parody. Beware the cunning cactii! As soon as this revelation is made, any possible interpretation of this story as serious falls completely flat on its face. This is not remotely assisted by the visual of Meglos, disguised as The Doctor, partially reverting to his normal physical form prompting Tom Baker to wear a ridiculous (if memorable) cactus outfit where the spikes protruding from it are obviously inhibiting the manner in which he can move.
So let's all do ourselves a favour and pretend that the antagonist does not exist within this story. Even though his name is the title of it. Let's instead focus upon the second big problem of the story: Much like Leisure Hive, the writer appears to have an axe to grind. Difference being in this case, it's with something that people are going to disagree with him over.
The lost story that stands out. The lost story that was almost made. The lost story that should have been. Shada! An undiscovered jewel which was indeed filmed! Shada! Revered for its mystique, admired for its potential, lost to the ages for reasons beyond the control of the production team. Shada.
So if it is lost, then how can a review be done of it? Easily answered that particular question .You see, it does exist. Sort of. The full script is readily available for anyone willling to look for it, there is an audio version performed with Paul McGann portraying the Eighth Doctor, an accompanying flash animation that was available at the BBC's website, and of course there is also the scenes that were completed which are available for viewing alongside linking narration from Tom Baker.
For many Doctor Who fans Shada is like the Holy Grail of missing stories. It was so close to being made, so tantalising, written by Douglas Adams, a six parter that would have been a much more satisfying conclusion to a below par (yet highly viewed) season than The Horns of Nimon could have been even had it been a story worth putting effort in to make it decent. Having experienced all three (well, technically both) versions that do exist, what do I make of it?
Howard Phillips Lovecraft was a racist and an Anglo-supremacist. There is no defense to mount. Worse, his personal beliefs cannot be separated from his work without willful ignorance. This is not to suggest that Lovecraft should be relegated to the dustbin of history. His contributions to the genre of modern horror are immense, even with the shadow his racism casts over his Mythos.
In the documentary Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown, director and screenwriter Guillermo del Toro defends Lovecraft's racism, arguing that "Every artist with every work of art is a product of his or her time, and [Lovecraft] reflected a lot of very American feelings."[1] Author Nicole Cushing refutes this defense, arguing that if one compares Edgar Allan Poe's work to Lovecraft's, one will note a stark difference in the racism at play.[2] Poe is a product of the antebellum South, and was raised by a slave-trader named John Allan. Poe's work is not without racism, such as the murderous black cook whom Poe describes as "a perfect demon" in The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym. But in many of Poe's stories, non-white characters are in the background if present at all. In contrast, racist thought is relevant to Lovecraft's work, whether as a subtle undercurrent or as the main point of the work. Poe never penned idle verse like Lovecraft's "On the Creation of Niggers."
Lovecraft's prose is fueled by his racist beliefs. Even "The Rats in the Walls" (published 1924),[3] otherwise bereft of direct racism, features Delapore's cat Nigger-Man, named after one of Lovecraft's own childhood cats.[4] His great comedy "Herbert West: Reanimator" (published 1922) contains an egregious episode featuring a minstrel caricature, the boxer Buck "The Harlem Smoke" Robinson. To extract the racism from other tales would destroy them.
Do I actually need to review this one? I mean, really? Anyone interested in watching classic Doctor Who is bound to ask two questions. Which stories are recommended viewing, and which are recommened for avoiding. On almost any list for the latter The Horns of Nimon will comfortably sit, and for very good reason. This is typically considered one of the worst Doctor Who stories ever made by fans of the show.
With a reputation like that, it must leave people floored. For myself, most Doctor Who stories that are truly terrible are either confusing or boring. This is neither. This is uncomfortable. Imagine that a writer had deliberately sat down with the production team with the intention of producing a Doctor Who story where the only real victim was suspension of disbelief, and you might start to see why it's so reviled. Some actors in this story are quite fond of the taste of scenery, and the sets look like someone got lost on the way to a fancy dress party. Even by the show's standards, the Nimon look awful!
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Alright, so we have a picture but that doesn't quite do justice to how terrible they look in motion. It's one of those costumes that is clearly having an effect on the mobility (and possibly the viewing range) of the person within, resulting in extremely awkward motion and hands that wander around without any idea of what to do with themselves. They look - and sound - like a parody of a Doctor Who monster.
There's a germ of a good idea within this story. I do find the idea of the Nimon interesting at some level. They're a sort of space parasite that feeds upon a civilisation's greed. They trick them into establishing a religion based around them, allowing the Nimon to demand tribute that they can then use to come to the planet en masse and devour it like locusts. Then they move on to the next world, and repeat. That's not really a bad idea. The entire problem here is the execution. Wouldn't it make more sense if we were sympathetic to the Nimon's latest victims? Wouldn't it make more sense if the viewer didn't come away with the impression that they were getting what they sort of deserved? Well, that's not what happens at all. In fact, we barely see any of the civilisation before our main characters are all cast right into the "maze" where the Nimon live. Within which it seems that all characters are doomed to carry the burden of being completely oblivious idiots in ways clearly designed to service the plot and naught else.
