Back when Who started there were a number of different ideas for the opening serial. One was the miniscules story, in which Our Heroes were to be shrunk. C.E. "Bunny" Webber started work writing it, and while it was of course eventually replaced with 100,000 BC, much of his script for the first part found its way into the opening episode of the show. A little later another writer, Robert Gould, made a second attempt, aiming for the slot that eventually went to Marco Polo. It was third time lucky for Louis Marks, though, whose attempt made it (mostly) to screen at the start of the second season, seven weeks after Prisoners of Conciergerie.
Behind the scenes, of course, production carried straight on without a break. Prefilming for Marks' story took place at Ealing Studios during rehearsals for The Tyrant of France and Prisoners of Conciergerie, and the main filming for Planet of Giants (in Television Centre Studio 4) happened the week after. It shows; the Doctor still has his cape (though he's ditched the more ridiculous parts of his costume), and the travellers talk about having just left the late Eighteenth Century. Which means... what, exactly? That all the stories I've been reviewing that have been placed in the 'gap' between seasons are apocryphal, or from a parallel timeline, or something? The evidence here is just as strong as that which demonstrates the "impossibility" of fitting The Transit of Venus between The Sensorites and The Reign of Terror, yet I don't see anyone complaining about this lack of gap.
For me, the rule of maximum enjoyment applies here. I'll happily modify that scene in my head to allow for all the extra stories (and it doesn't require much modification, just one line from William Hartnell), then move on.
So, the start of a new season (even if it wasn't the start originally planned). How are they going to handle that? It begins with an extended TARDIS scene in which viewers are reminded of the key features of the show: they've got a ship that travels in time and space! There's some sort of fault (and that's not unusual)! The Doctor is trying (and failing) to get Iananbarbara home! It's all there; and while I initially thought that it was padding, once I reminded myself of the context it turns out to be rather efficiently done.
And then we get to see the fault locator again. Bless.
The whole scene, from initial discussion to the crisis on materialisation and the trouble with the scanner, served to remind me of both the good and the bad of the period. It's creative, but relies almost entirely on over-dramatic acting to sell the danger: the Doctor panicking, Ian, Barbara and Susan stage-pushing the doors shut - and I didn't buy into the threat, although part of me was aware of my Twenty-first Century perspective getting in the way. I was also conscious of the music, which I identified as "classic 60s dramatic" rather than simply letting it enhance the action. I really wish there were some way I could view this as part of the original audience.
And then there's that awkward little moment between the Doctor and Barbara, where he apologises to her for forgetting the niceties under pressure (space pressure, presumably), and she looks both confused and amused. It's a tiny thing, but I'm immediately engaged again.
When they step outside it's into a cramped but effective set. With a nod back to the seas of Marinus director Mervyn Pinfield shoots it so that we watch the actors as they look out past the cameras and describe what they are seeing. I'm smiling at the primitiveness of this, but still involved; and as they split into pairs to explore I retain this mental double vision. The earthworm doesn't work for me, but the egg certainly does; and then there's another cramped set moment when Ian and Susan fail to see the extent of a pile of eggs about half an inch away. This is made up for by a nicely framed shot of Susan facing the dead ant, and from here this pair gets all the best sets (and shots). It's great watching them figuring things out, and the cutting between the two teams mid-dialogue - while clumsy by modern standards - is like nothing we've seen before. Everyone in the production seems to be gaining confidence, and as a result I'm drawn into the story. The shot revealing that that are in the cracks between paving slabs is lovely, and the change of scale and focus as we meet the guest cast is both unexpected and effective.
This keeps up. It's a nice touch that the gunshot is heard by the shrunken visitors as a massive explosion like a cannon going off, and as we approach the end and they encounter the dead inspector's face we see a case where CSO would have done a far worse job. The cliffhanger with the cat is genuinely scary.
It's not all roses, of course: Ian in the matchbox throwing himself around just shows the need for more flexible cameras that can be rapidly tilted or shaken, for instance, and when he is found by the others it is far too abrupt. Overall, though, the episode picks itself up and turns into something rather good by the end.
Broadcast:
Date: Saturday, 31st October 1964
Viewers: 8.4 million
Chart Position: 37
Appreciation Index: 57
Rating:
5.5/10.
Next Time:
Dangerous Journey.
No comments:
Post a Comment