Monday, 27 April 2015

Episode 79 (S2): The Meddling Monk

I've been trying to figure out a way for this blog to keep going in the face of a number of factors - chiefly that it's not my top writing priority, and that I am also having increasing difficulty watching television. I decided to write all the reviews for this serial before I posted the first, to give me a head start; this turned out to be a good idea. There was such an enormous gap between writing the first episode entry and watching this one that we all decided to rewatch The Watcher first, to remind ourselves of where we'd got to. Because of this I noticed the reprise was different, in that this time it was accompanied by dramatic music.

This episode starts out really emphasising the anachronisms, presumably for the benefit of those who missed the previous week. There probably weren't many who needed it - the viewing figures are pretty consistent, down very slightly - but it's a sensible precaution. The modern kitchen stuff (added after the final revision of the script, and looking so old now!) makes a pretty bold statement. ("Nice dinner service", said May. "I'd stay at Hotel Monk.") It's not long before we get the Monk using binoculars, by which time the point is clearly made and the focus shifts away from "where are we?" to "where are we going?" - a nice balance to strike.

And speaking of balance, I'd like to praise Peter Butterworth for his facial expressions in particular - they are priceless. He gets just the right amount of comedy into the performance.

Peter Purves also does a fine job of showing off some more of Steven's character: the space pilot has relaxed a bit and seems more cheerful after a night's sleep away from Mechanus, but tenses up straight away when they hear an unexplained noise. It's a small note, but adds a lot. Later, Steven being suspicious of the monk's excuses in the same way he was suspicious when the Doctor and Vicki were telling him about the TARDIS reinforces this, even though he's right this time. Then he believes he's tricked the monk with a fairly transparent ruse, which shows us some of his naïvety while giving Maureen O'Brien a moment to show off Vicki's cleverness.

The writing is very finely judged. The two time travellers struggling with the manners of the time is another fine touch, as is the comedy moment when the pair enter the monastery and head in opposite directions, which helps to reduce the tension after a more horrific scene. I also love the way that the end looks like being a repeat of the previous episode's cliffhanger, this time with us seeing the monk setting his trap; but then he gets called away, and we are given a different cliffhanger instead.

(I may be wrong since I've now seen it so often, but I don't remember noticing William Hartnell's absence on first viewing until this moment. It's very cleverly done.)

The rest of the production is of a high standard as well. There's some great camera direction and effective use of stock footage, and the craggy vikings look good. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that the fight scene is pretty much the only thing that lets the episode down. The era always had trouble with fight scenes, but unfortunately this is a particularly poor example.

Violence Against Women, part 2: The Rape of Edith
There is, of course, an elephant in the room with any discussion of this episode, and that is Edith's implied rape. Well, I say implied, but this is about as close to portraying the actual event as you are going to get in a pre-watershed program. We've had the threat of rape before - usually involving Barbara, and most obviously with Vasor in The Snows of Terror, when this series of sidebars started - but this is the first time the threat has been carried through.

I recently read an interview with a crime writer in an issue of the Radio Times in which he bemoans the way every new TV crime series has to start with an episode in which a woman is kidnapped and raped or otherwise tortured. I can see what he means: it does seem to have become the first port of call when a show wants to establish its credentials as edgy or hard-hitting, and unless handled very carefully it can become a form of mysogynistic 'torture porn'. And then there's the trope of 'fridging', where a character (almost always a woman) is mistreated just to give a more major character (almost always a man) some motivation, a drive for revenge or similar, with the emphasis on the latter's viewpoint rather than the former's.

At first glance, this certainly looks as if Edith has been fridged. We see her husband Wulnoth's pain and anger, and indeed he and the other men of the village go off and hunt down the vikings and kill them in revenge. A classic case. And yet, by any reckoning, Edith is a more prominent character than her husband - so it almost falls into this trap, but not quite. The event is also handled seriously, not treated lightly: we see the effect on Edith in multiple scenes. And before the attack she is shown to be a strong, resourceful character, hearing something wrong and reaching for her spear. The fact that she is overpowered by three warriors doesn't make her an ineffective damsel!

So, my response is generally positive thus far - but I'll have a little more to say next time...

Broadcast:
Date: Saturday, 10th July 1965
Viewers: 8.8 million
Chart Position: 19
Appreciation Index: 49

Rating:
9.5/10.

Next Time:
A Battle of Wits.

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