And so we reach the first episode broadcast on BBC1, which up until now had been referred to as the BBC Television Service, or colloquially simply "BBC". The addition of a number was due to the advent of the third British TV channel, BBC2. This sorta-kinda happened on 20th April, but due to a major power cut the only transmissions were news bulletins; the channel debuted properly the following day with Play School, a classic children's program of my youth. I also remember well the trade test transmissions, short films broadcast repeatedly, some of which I loved - in particular, The Captive River (about the building of the Kariba Dam and "the last, lone elephant" to be evacuated, which I called "the last lonely elephant"); The Home-made Car (which had a particular resonance for my mum, who had made a car with her brother); Giuseppina (about an Italian petrol station which I always thought was French); and Network (which taught me quite a bit about telecommunications for a half-hour program). Probably due to the repetition they have stayed with me better than many later programs - I can still remember some of the animation from Network even though I was three when it was last broadcast.
Technically, BBC2 led the way. It was broadcast in 625 lines rather than the 405 lines of BBC1 and ITV, which meant fewer people could watch it but promoted the sale of dual receivers and so eased the transition for the other channels. Later, BBC2 would also be the first channel to broadcast regularly in colour.
These days, most of us in the UK watch old episodes of Who in 625 lines, carefully restored, on large screens. This is slightly unfair as it can reveal details that were hidden from viewers of the original transmission; the first episode of The Mind Robber in particular suffers from this.
Meanwhile, on BBC1, we have The Screaming Jungle, which certainly won't be requiring an extra entry. It's fun enough in a disposable-half-hour-of-entertainment sort of way, but little of it inspires me to comment. As is often the case when Terry Nation's writing, people keep thinking well and we get to see some of their thought processes, which I like. There's some fun characterisation, particularly between Barbara and Susan when they are alone; when Ian is worrying about Barbara; and, towards the end, when Iananbarbara get to spend some quiet quality time reading (you may note where these three intersect, and draw your own conclusions).
Apart from that it's just an excuse to imperil our heroes with a sequence of traps. Which is fine, if the traps are interesting enough and well implemented. We have a net combined with a descending ceiling that has some very wobbly spikes; a pickaxe attached to a chain that causes a portcullis to drop down, which in turn has a very wobbly bar; a pressure plate that activates a blade-wielding statue; and a rotating Buddhalike statue with realistic arm action. I'm sorry, there is some entertaining stuff here but overall it just doesn't cut the mustard. And someone (apologies, I can't remember who - the Internet is a big place) pointed out something important about the rotating statue, which is that it is completely counter-productive. It holds a fake key, but if anyone tries to take that one it grabs them and gives them access to the place where the real key is held!
What does that leave? Oh, yes, the plants and the dying old man's cryptic clue. The plants are actually surprisingly effective. OK, there are moments where a person is trying hard to keep a tendril attacking them, but in general they work well. When the plants are breaking through into the laboratory it's almost as good as the similar scene in the much later Seeds of Doom. The old man is less impressive, with some dodgy motivation and an even more dodgy death, but I quite like the chemical clue - and apparently new elements have been discovered, which would explain why Ian doesn't twig sooner.
So, a mixed result, and an appropriate point at which to return to the subject of style...
Look and Feel, Part 2: Saturday Matinee
Like The Edge of Destruction before it, The Keys of Marinus wasn't originally planned but instead resulted from the chaotic script situation that plagued Doctor Who's first season. A story by Malcolm Hulke - who would produce some great stories later on - had run into trouble, itself having been moved up the schedule to avoid delays in two other scripts. Script editor David Whitaker turned to Terry Nation for an emergency replacement. Because there were only four weeks to produce scripts for six episodes, Whitaker suggested a series of largely-independent adventures, and collaborated with Nation on the basic setup. What they came up with took a leaf out of another pulp-era phenomenon, the Saturday Matinee, and in particular one of its more famous serials: Flash Gordon.
The Matinee serials began in the silent era with such classics as The Perils of Pauline and continued through to the 1950s. They had the cliffhanger structure we've already discussed, and many of them had a new, exotic location each week. You don't need to be a student of old films to pick up the feel, because the 1980 pastiche Flash Gordon film does fine (though you do have to imagine your own episode breaks).
The trap-fest of the The Screaming Jungle is a classic example. The 1980's biggest pastiche - the Indiana Jones movies, starting with Raiders of the Lost Ark in 1981 - is a big-budget, full-length version of the same sort of thing but the roots are identical. Amusingly (in retrospect), writer Robert Gould accused Whitaker and Nation of stealing his ideas for the wafer-thin plot, but this was not upheld.
Meanwhile, the hot, steamy jungles are giving way to arctic tundra...
Broadcast:
Date: Saturday, 25th April 1964
Viewers: 9.9 million
Chart Position: 22
Appreciation Index: 61
Rating:
4/10.
Next Time:
The Snows of Terror.
No comments:
Post a Comment