The Reign of Terror, redux

Back when I first reviewed The Reign of Terror, the DVD wasn't out and we had to make do with soundtracks and recons for the missing episodes. We knew that these were going to be animated, though, and I promised I would revisit them when I had the opportunity.

Ta-DA! The time has come. Isaac didn't want to join in this time because there are too many other stories he wants to watch in his increasingly limited free time and he couldn't remember the story well enough to enjoy the two episodes on their own.

Animation is a very different beast from live action, particularly live action in the mid 1960s. There are things it can do well - there's no restrictions on camera movement, for one thing - but it loses the expressiveness you get from actual actors. And here, where it's trying to recreate an already-filmed missing episode, the animators are caught in a bit of a double bind. If they stick closely to the camera scripts (as was done with the animation for The Ice Warriors) there's a sense of faithfulness to the original, but you are then combining the restrictions of both methods and using none of the advantages. It's like a director on a televisual production deciding to mimic the viewpoint of a theatregoer sat in one seat. On the other hand, if they go for sweeping camera moves and quick cuts, it loses some of the 1960s tone.

Here, the animators have decided to use some of the extra freedom afforded by animation. For most of the first missing episode - The Tyrant of France - I preferred this to the other approach; but then came a series of quick cuts to extreme closeups of people's eyes. These were very short and the eyes were not distinct enough for me to quickly see who they belonged to, so this became a distraction. Again the animators were hampered by their brief: in other circumstances the characters would be designed to be distinct and recognisable, but here they have to be based on specific actors in specific costumes. In addition, the off-air recordings used for the soundtrack are of particularly low quality - poor enough that I turned on the subtitles - so it was sometimes hard both to figure out who was speaking and what they were saying.

Fortunately, the second animated episode - A Bargain of Necessity - is more restrained in its framing. They still have plenty of cuts, showing people's faces as they are speaking and the reactions of listeners, but few of these shots are extreme, and this works better for me. The episode also benefits from having clearer sound, so I didn't need the subtitles.

The cuts and animation style came in for a lot of criticism on Gallifrey Base when this was first released. Reading the comments, I felt some were slightly unfair because they were not taking into account the differing requirements of the two forms, but the version of the argument that said that it didn't fit with the surrounding episodes made more sense to me. Having now watched them I've moderated my opinions in both cases. The stylistic change isn't so noticeable if you watch the episodes on separate days, as I try to do; but there is also an inevitable sense that this comes from a different era. And the quick cuts to extreme closeups don't work, regardless of style.

I was impressed by the monochrome models created for the sets and people, which are both pleasant to look at and matching the originals. The mouth movement is very good, and the other motion acceptable. Having worked on motion capture I am a bit of a nitpicker when it comes to realistic movement, so 'acceptable' is actually higher praise than it might sound - the motion in Dreamland made that almost unwatchable for me.

So, what effect does the animation have on these episodes, and the serial as a whole? Certainly it makes it easier to watch, and I will revisit this story more often because of it; but I don't think I want to change my ratings. I must have done a good job adjusting for the fact that I was watching a recon before!

I did promise to say something about the DVD extras, too. There aren't many - even cheap animation done by people who undercharge because they are working on something they love is expensive - and I haven't had time to listen to the commentaries, but two of the others are rather fun. The virtual set tour takes us round the empty models - a bit like some of the photo galleries, but with continuous camera motion. The idea of behind-the-scenes shooting on a virtual set is rather wonderful, and would only have been improved if they'd put in virtual gantry rigging for lights and such.

The best extra has to be the talking heads making-of documentary, Don't Lose Your Head. This does nothing out of the ordinary, but the content made it fascinating. Most of the talk revolved around director Henric Hirsch, and the recollections of Production Assistant Timothy Combe and Carole Ann Ford were quite gripping. It brought the story behind Hirsch's somewhat traumatic production to life, and gave us some interesting instances of historical uncertainty. Still no definite answer to the question of who stepped in to direct when Hirsch collapsed, for instance, but a heartwarming tale of Combe stepping up to the plate and gaining valuable confidence and experience from the near-disaster. Best of all, two primary source accounts of William Hartnell's clashes with the director - one (from Combe) where he does so because of Hirsch's nationality, the other (from Ford) where it is because of his inexperience. Lovely.

Overall, then, a fine DVD - recommended, even with the quibbles about the animation (and with such a tiny fraction of a Hollywood budget I doubt you'd find better).

Next Time: 
Unnatural Selection.