THE MISERABLE GIT:
THE WIFE IN SPACE VOLUME 1

by Neil and Sue Perryman

Copyright 2015 Neil and Sue Perryman

Published by Sue Me Books

Smashwords Edition

Cover design by Andrew Orton

Illustrations by Graham Kibble-White

Doctor Who, the TARDIS, and all related concepts are copyright BBC Worldwide and are used under the principle of fair use.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Foreword
Introduction

The Original Introduction to the Blog

SEASON ONE

100,000 BC

The Daleks

The Edge of Destruction

Marco Polo

The Keys of Marinus

The Aztecs

The Sensorites

The Reign of Terror

SEASON TWO

Planet of Giants

The Dalek Invasion of Earth

The Rescue

The Romans

The Web Planet

The Crusade

The Space Museum

The Chase

The Time Meddler

Dr Who and the Daleks

SEASON THREE

Galaxy 4

Mission to the Unknown

The Myth Makers

The Daleks’ Master Plan

The Massacre of St Bartholomew’s Eve

The Ark

The Celestial Toymaker

The Gunfighters

The Savages

The War Machines

Daleks: Invasion Earth 2150 AD

SEASON FOUR

The Smugglers

The Tenth Planet

The Hartnell Years

EXTRAS

An Adventure in Space and Time

An Unearthly Child Redux

Marco Polo Redux

Galaxy 4 Redux

An interview with Sue

Sue’s Scores

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This book wouldn’t have been possible without the help and support of more than 400 Kickstarter backers, including:

Marc Abbs, Richard Abela, David H Adler, AGD, Barry Aldridge, Tristan Alfaro, Stephen Allport, JB Anderton, James Armstrong, Kelly and Chris Arthur, Simon Atkinson, Richard Bairwell, Michael Baker, Jonathan Baldwin, Gordon Barr, David M Barsky, Gary Bates, Jamie Bave, Jamie Baverstock, Ross Bennett, Steve Berry, Gary Best, Krittika Bhattacharjee, Merric Blackman, James Bland, Simon Booth, Philip Brown, David Brunt, Patrick Bryars, Huw Buchtmann, John Bunney, Edward T Burke, Girvan Burnside, Rebecca Burton, Alan T Butcher, Marc Cameron, Simon Castle, Cliff Chapman, Pete Clapham, David Clifford, Barry Collins, Martin Collins, Simon Commons, Tony Cross, Robert A Crowder, Peter Cunnane, Simon Darnell, Mike Davey, James Davies, Michael Deacon, Robert Dick, Tom Dickinson, Mat Dolphin, Mark Dowding, Patrick Duffy, Edgar ‘Smaz’ Duncan, Chris Dunford-Kelk, Vivienne Dunstan, Larry and Eleanor Dyde, T Scott Edwards, Chris El Lammy Payne, Stephen Ellis, David W Embery, Bill Evenson, Martin Fahey, Richard Fairweather, Joe Fearon, Alistair Ferguson, Brody Finney, Bradley Forssman, Philip Fowler, George L Ganat, Michelle Garland, JJ Gauthier, Dr Mark Gaworecki, Benjamin Gilbert, Rob Gilbert, David Gillespie, Sebastian Goettling, Jo Golding, Lawrence Gough, Ed Gravett, David Green, John Grindrod, Ken Gross, Derek Handley, Jamie Hardwick, Richard Hardy, Simon Harries, Nik Hayward, Mark Healey, Rod Hedrick, Michael Hill, Ant Hodgkinson, Nick Holland, Chris ‘The Rani’s cleverer than any of us!’ Hughes, Jason Irving, Judith Jackson, Robert Jewell, Barry Jobson, Marcus Johnson, Gareth Johnstone, Jules Jones, Kevin Jordan, TM Jordan, Martin Kay, Martin J Kennaugh, Al Kennedy, Emma Kennedy, Justin Key, Kenneth Kidd, Matthew Kilburn, Nick Kirby, Evagelos Korais, Darren Kramble, la reine margot, Nick Lawton, Emmet LeBlanc, Paul Lenkic, Tracy Lister, Sheila Lofthouse, Roderick T Long, Sean and Anthea Longmore, Tony Lyell, Dale Madin, John Magee, Grant Mainwaring, Marie, Richard Marklew, Andrew Marsden, Gareth Martland, Thomas Marwede, Ashley J Mason, Tom May, Carson Maynard, Ian McCann, Mark McCreadie, James C McFetridge, Dan McGrath, Walter McIntosh, Richard McTighe, Mr Andy ‘XTC’ Miller, Nick Mellish, Mendou, Joe McIntyre and Simon Middleton, Tony Milton, Harriet Monkhouse, Kirk Moore, Alan Mordey, Dafydd Morris, Paul Morris, Robert Morrison, Stefan Mueller, Mutt ‘n’ Bear, Neowhovian, Mark Nickol, Gavin Noble, Mark B Oliver, Jon Padgett, Ed Pannett, Adam Parker @Pikmin, Adam Parker, Steve Parker, Michael Patey, Paul, Charles M Paulsen, Mr Thomas Payne, the amazing David Peat, Tim Phipps, Barry Platt, Jeremy Pluck, Harry Sean Plumb, pookie, Gary Poussard, Jake Priest, Adam J Purcell, Mikhalia Pye, Ian Radford, Adam Redman, Edward Rees, Grant Reeves, Denzell Richards, David Rolinson, Josiah Rowe, Gary Ruddock, Lee Ryder, Dave Sanders, Patrick Sanders, Steven Sautter, Dr Neil Scotchmer, Frank Shailes, Matt Sharp, Scott Sherritt, Drew Simchik, Billy Smart, Steve Smart, Ian C Smith, Giles Smith, Richard Smith, Stewart Smith, Andrew T Smith, Paul Stapleton, Sebastian Stapper, Jamie Steel, Alan Stephen, Dave Stevens, Lisa Stevens, Tony Stevens, Alan Strange, Jonathan L Switzer, Robert Taylor, Luke Temple, theMunted, Neil Thomas, Iain Hepburn off The Thumbcast, Tim Drury of Tim’s Take On podcast, Nat Titman, Mr Treacle, Matt Treml (aka Rabbi the Mage), Steve Trimingham, John Trone, Christine Tursky Gordon, Marcin Uliński, Jason Ungate, Richard Unwin, Darth Vader (the third), Andrew Waddington, Andrew Ward, Phil Ware, Kevin West, Adam Westwood, Pete White, David Whittam, Alex Wilcock and Richard Flowers, Craig Williams, Steve Williams (aka the Valeyard), John Wirenius, Andy Wixon, Ann Worrall, and Jeremy Young.

I’d especially like to thank Graham Kibble-White for editing, typesetting and illustrating this book, Jack Kibble-White for proofreading, Matt West for his invaluable publishing advice, and John Williams for planting the seed that began this nonsense in the first place.

Finally, I’d like to thank Sue and Nicol for not pestering me to get a real job.

FOREWORD by ROBERT SHEARMAN

Doctor Who fans are a generous bunch, and our instinct is to share. The only problem is, for the uninitiated, what we’re trying to share with them is often about as appealing as a bouncy castle at a wake. “Come and join in, it’s fun!” we cry, jumping up and down amongst the inflatable turrets. “It’s inappropriate,” says the grieving widow... Or maybe I’m the only one who’s tried that.

When I was 11, I discovered Doctor Who, and it immediately felt like it had been created solely to give me pleasure. It was everything I could have wanted – bad jokes, horrible deaths, and the potential to make lots and lots of lists. It was mine, but I was not a selfish child, and I wanted to tell the world. I did. I started my own fanzine at school (a rival fanzine, trivia fans, to the one edited by David Walliams of future Little Britain fame). I gave talks about it in assembly, in English class, in history lessons – because I thought the history of Doctor Who was as valid a topic as last week’s lecture from Darren Boyden about the causes of World War II. And more than anything, I wanted to share it with my father.

My father had attempted to bond with me over sport. His enthusiasm for football and rugby was lost on me – I could see his joy, but didn’t know how to tap into it for myself. I tried watching sport, I tried playing sport, I tried not expressing my undying hatred towards sport. And failed, particularly on the last count. What my father loved most of all was cricket, and he’d had dreams when I was born I’d one day do him proud and play for England – he redesigned the garden so it was the exact dimension of a pitch, and each and every weekend I was out there learning how to bat and to bowl. Each and every weekend until I rebelled. I’m not sure he ever quite forgave me.

But Doctor Who was such a wonderfully all-inclusive series, and I had no doubt that it would fill that void between us. I imagined that soon he too would while away weekends lying on the sofa trying to put into order his favourite Ice Warrior stories, and then I’d show him my list, and we’d see if we agreed, and we’d be friends. It’d be magical. It’d be a thing of beauty. All I had to do was show Doctor Who to him.

I started with the one that had cricket in. I thought that would be a cunning entry point. I persuaded him one day to sit and watch Part One of Black Orchid with me, faithfully preserved on VHS videotape, and carefully labelled with cast information and production code. And when he didn’t properly appreciate it, and seemed to blink or cough or yawn and miss important moments, I made him watch it again.

He was polite about it. And that ought to have been the giveaway. My father was never very polite about anything.

But I seized upon that politeness. I made him watch Part Two of Black Orchid, even though the cricket references had by now dried up. I made him watch Earthshock. I made him watch Kinda, in the hope that he might be able to explain to me what on Earth was going on.

He begged me to stop. It’s not a pretty thing, as a child, to see your father beg. It leaves a scar. He promised he’d never complain about my watching Doctor Who, and he’d never try to get me outside and take healthy exercise. He’d help print my fanzine, he’d take me to the Longleat convention if he could stay in the car. So long as he never had to sit through it again. Please. Please. For the sweet love of God.

I’m not claiming that Sue Perryman is much like my father. For one thing, Sue has never tried to teach me how to hold a cricket bat. For another, I’ve never heard her being polite. But for the sake of an argument, Sue relived the sufferings of my father, and no doubt countless other fathers, countless other girlfriends, and flatmates, and family pets. Her husband Neil suggested she watch Doctor Who with him. Even worse, all of Doctor Who, in order. Even worse, starting with the black and white ones. Even even worse, including the bits that didn’t even exist.

Sue is a brave person, and a strong person. She is braver and stronger than my father, and he was in the RAF. But I know she has been changed by the experience. That happy-go-lucky woman I met at a convention in Newcastle – only there ironically, always ironically – looks so haunted and tired now. That girlish giggle has dried to a battle-hardened husk. She has watched The Time Monster. She has been to Underworld. She has not only sat through 14 episodes of The Trial of a Time Lord, she has been made to give it marks out of 10. You don’t put people through that kind of thing and expect them to be the same the other side. All I know is, she must love Neil very much.

Some may remember my own part in that last, desperate attempt to share Doctor Who. That same instinct that led to a bunch of us bringing the show back to the screens in 2005. I can only say we meant well, we truly did, we honestly believed it was an act of kindness. We all know what a disaster the revival was. We look back, we even try to analyse where we went wrong. Doing that mid-season trilogy just to reconcile the continuity issues of UNIT dating now seems a mistake. The cost-cutting exercise of not making episode three at all, but instead showing clips of the best bits from The Ark in Space, lost us a lot of goodwill at the BBC. And, in retrospect, we probably should have cast an actual actor as the Doctor. Maybe with a bit more care – if we hadn’t listened to Russell T Davies’ lunacy, if we hadn’t followed him into the darkness – we’d have a show we could all be enjoying today. Or maybe not.

But in a very real way, we were all Neil Perrymans. We wanted to put on public display our love, affection, exasperation and contempt for a show from our childhood. Maybe only to discover, through the eyes of someone we love, why we can’t forget. The BBC Wales experiment failed. But Neil’s and Sue’s, against all sense or hope, succeeded.

Here is how it all began.

Robert Shearman

January 2015

INTRODUCTION

Thank you for buying this book, especially if you’re afflicted by the collector gene and are therefore committed to purchasing the next five volumes in order to complete the set. I just hope the £500 price tag for the final volume will be tempered by the aesthetically pleasing way the series will eventually line up on your bookshelf, or, if you are reading this electronically, in a folder on your desktop.

So what did you get for your hard-earned cash? Well, aside from collecting the first six months of the Wife in Space blog (aka the William Hartnell era and two very silly movies) into a delivery mechanism that’s perfect for reading on the loo, this book also includes four extra blogs which have never been published before, a brand new interview with Sue, a video transcript, a smattering of behind-the-scenes gossip, a foreword by the one and only Robert ‘Doctor Who’ Shearman, and a numbered spine that will look increasingly out of place if you don’t fork out for the next one. And you can’t have a desktop folder with one file in it; that would be silly.

One last thing: the introductions to the next five volumes won’t be as short as this one (another reason to collect them all), but I’ve got an excuse for keeping it brief this time as I hand you over to a slightly younger version of me. He’s got more hair, and marginally better eyesight, and he’s just come up with an idea that seemed like a good one at the time.

Neil Perryman
January 2015

THE ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION TO THE BLOG

I blame Toby Hadoke and Rob Shearman.

I was reading their wonderful Running Through Corridors book when I was inevitably inspired to watch Doctor Who from the beginning again. I’ve attempted this feat several times before, of course, but I usually crumble in the middle of The Sensorities, and if I cheat and jump to a Pertwee, it’s always Colony in Space that finishes me off.

My methodology was probably at fault (that and the sheer awfulness of The Sensorities). I would stay up late, always alone, and I’d watch a handful of fuzzy Hartnells in irregular, sporadic bursts. Was it any wonder I lost the will to live? And then I remembered my friend John Williams telling me that Andrew Pixley managed it when he rationed himself to a single episode a day. He would watch it while he was having his tea.

The thought of experiencing the classic adventures like this sounded irresistible to me. And since there’s bugger-all on the telly at 7pm, it felt like the ideal time slot, too. All I had to do was convince my wife to let me take over the living room for 30 minutes each day.

And then, entirely on a whim, I decided to push my luck. Why not ask my wife to join in?

Incredibly, brilliantly, and rather worryingly, my wife not only agreed to watch every episode of Doctor Who with me, she promised to give it her undivided attention, too. She even agreed to switch off her precious mobile phone.

She didn’t ask for anything in return.

Yet.

I thought this might be worth chronicling for a blog, so I asked her if I could record and publish her reactions as a non-fan as we went along. What I didn’t tell her is that if people actually read these mini-reviews, I’d be able to guilt-trip her into continuing when we hit our first bump in the road (next week, probably, as we get bogged down in Thals).

I have subjected Sue to classic Doctor Who before. When we met in 1993 it didn’t take her long to realise I was a fanboy. It was probably when I started frothing at the mouth when I discovered she had UK Gold back at her place. I knew the channel was broadcasting late night Jon Pertwee repeats (most of which I hadn’t seen since childhood), and I would have killed for an opportunity to see some.

In fact, because I’m a fan, I can confidently pinpoint the day I went back to her place and met my stepdaughter for the first time: Tuesday 13th April, 1993. I bet she can’t do that. (The Curse of Peladon, Episode Two, if you’re interested.)

Not that Sue ever watched these episodes with me – not even during our honeymoon period. Thanks to a long and complicated series of events involving her parents and some lodgers who stayed longer than expected, I had to sleep downstairs with her dogs for the first few weeks of our relationship. Their gastric problems (the dogs, not the lodgers) threatened to drive me away on more than one occasion, but Pertwee always coaxed me back.

When I moved in with Sue and her daughter, Nicol, a few months later (Monday 5th July, 1993 – you don’t easily forget the black and white opening to Invasion of the Dinosaurs), my overflowing cardboard boxes full of videos, Target novels and back issues of DWM made it perfectly clear I was more than a little interested in the programme. It didn’t take me long to instigate an all-too-familiar gamble and casually suggest we watch a couple of stories together. You know, just in case she liked it.

I’d already failed with the programme’s intended target audience. Nicol was almost five when I moved in, but the programme didn’t appeal to her in the slightest. I tried every Doctor possible, and while she would happily laugh at Jon Pertwee’s lisp, she couldn’t wait for me to switch it off. A couple of years later, she had to complete a school project about the Aztecs, and even that didn’t work out. In the end, I just had to accept Tom Baker couldn’t compete with Sabrina the Teenage Witch.

Sue’s memories of the classic series were practically nonexistent when I met her. She didn’t watch the programme when she was growing up, and while she knew what a Dalek looked like, and that the TARDIS was bigger on the inside, that was about it.

And so, after many hours of careful deliberation, I subjected her to The Caves of Androzani. It felt closer to modern television than the rest of my Doctor Who VHS collection, even the episodes that were still less than five years old at the time. There was also the added bonus of an unexpected regeneration that would hopefully prove to her our beloved programme could be unpredictable, exciting and moving.

She thought it was ‘okay’.

A few days later, I wheeled out the big guns and we sat through Genesis of the Daleks in one sitting. She loved it. I had to rub her feet through Parts Three to Five, but it was worth it.

Knowing me, I probably pushed my luck with something edgy or bleak, like Ghost Light or Kinda, but my memory is a little fuzzy here. I do remember she would occasionally acquiesce to the odd UK Gold repeat (I have a very vivid memory of her scoffing at the Vardans in The Invasion of Time: Wednesday March 2nd, 1994 at approx 11.50pm), but nine times out of 10 she’d head to bed and leave me to it.

Not that she’s ever sneered at my passion for the programme. She’s never told me to hide my videos or books away in the attic, she’s bought plenty of Doctor Who themed tat for me over the years, she’s never chided me for wearing a t-shirt with Tom Baker beaming out from it, and she even rang him up on QVC so she could baffle him with a question about Big Finish (which I was too scared to ask myself), even though my wife didn’t have the faintest idea who or what Big Finish was (or is).

In summary, Sue tolerates the classic series but she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a Patrick Troughton-era Cybermen and a Peter Davison one, as a recent trip to ASDA sadly proved.

She does like science fiction, though, and unless she’s been lying to me for the last 18 years, she enjoyed Star Trek: The Next Generation (she liked Data a bit), Babylon 5 (she fancied Bruce Boxleitner a lot) and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (we named a dog after her). More recently, she’s been an avid viewer of Battlestar Galactica, Caprica, Fringe, and Lost.

Oh, and she’s lovely. Have I mentioned that?*

Neil Perryman

January 2011

*It struck me while I was editing this book that I left out one vital piece of information when I published the original introduction: Sue teaches TV Studio Operations at a university. It didn’t seem important at the time, and I probably thought I’d given away too much information about our personal lives already (ha!), but given that she’s tossing words like ‘gallery’ and ‘vision-mixer’ around, and she obviously knows what Jablite is, I probably should have mentioned it earlier.

SEASON ONE

THEY SHOULD HAVE CALLED THE SHOW ‘IAN’

100,000 BC

BLOGGED: 25 January 2011

AN UNEARTHLY CHILD

Sue: Eh?

This was Sue’s first reaction to the episode. She absorbed it in complete silence, except for an early aside where she vaguely remembered who Dixon of Dock Green was.

Me: Is that all you’ve got?
Sue: I thought it would be a lot longer than that.

Of all the opening gambits I could have expected – which ranged from a gushing, “Wow, I understand why you love this programme now!” to a rueful, “We missed The One Show for that?” – this wasn’t on my list.

Me: So, what did you make of it?

My wife sighed. And then she told me she was shocked by William Hartnell’s curt, abrasive manner and she found it difficult to believe he was playing the same character as David Tennant and Matt Smith. I didn’t dare tell her he was playing a much softer version of the Doctor who had evolved from an untransmitted pilot episode.

Sue: He’s arrogant, snide, spiteful, and a little bit creepy.

What captivated her was the backstory (or lack of it) to Susan and the Doctor’s predicament. She was especially intrigued by her namesake’s desire to stay on Earth – she didn’t understand why Susan wanted to hang around in 1963 when she had all of time and space to explore. And why did she bother going to school in the first place when her academic flashbacks made it look like she was having such a terrible time? This really bugged Sue.

Interestingly, she didn’t pick up on Susan’s claim that she invented the word TARDIS, although she did ask the other really obvious question:

Sue: Is she really his granddaughter?
Me: Er... Wait and see.

When I asked her to sum up her feelings for this landmark episode, she concluded it was sufficiently mysterious and different enough for her to appreciate why audiences in 1963 must have been dazzled and amazed by it. But now? Not so much.

Sue: This is all about Susan, isn’t it? It’s her story. The Doctor doesn’t get a look in. He’s horrible.

One episode down, several hundred to go...

THE CAVE OF SKULLS

It was Sue who brought up the subject of our insane experiment the next day.

Sue: Is it time for Doctor Who yet?

She pretended to be vaguely annoyed by the prospect, but I could tell she wanted to find out what happened next. She was also a lot more vocal during the screening of this episode, and most of her commentary was directed at William Hartnell.

Sue: He’s a smoker! You’d never get away with that today. Imagine Matt Smith pulling out some Lambert and Butler.

As the episode plays out, her agitation begins to increase exponentially.

Sue: The Doctor really is useless, isn’t he? Look at him! He’s just lying there while everyone talks over him. When does he sit up and take control of the situation?

She’s not impressed by the supporting artistes either, but at least she’s beginning to warm to the TARDIS crew. She’s particularly impressed by William Russell’s ability to deliver the now familiar “Doctor who?” gag with a straight face.

Sue: It can’t compete with the first episode. There were too many scenes of cavemen bickering and not enough action. And the special effects were rubbish.
Me: But there weren’t any special effects.
Sue: Exactly!

THE FOREST OF FEAR

Once again, it’s Sue who reminds us that it’s time for our daily dose of Doctor Who. I don’t know whether to be happy, suspicious or afraid – although it doesn’t take her long before she’s outraged by Hartnell’s brusque, selfish behaviour, which shows no signs of abating. In fact, when Barbara stumbles to the floor, the Doctor practically tramples her underfoot.

Sue: What a cunt! Are we supposed to like the lead character, Neil? Because the show is doing a terrible job if we’re supposed to root for this git.

Barbara appears to be having a nervous breakdown, which is hardly surprising given what she’s been through.

Sue: This is never a kids’ show! What time did this go out again?
Me: Quarter past five.
Sue: Bloody hell. That is ridiculous.

Sue is appalled when the Doctor contemplates braining a wounded cavemen to death with a rock. She can’t believe how grim this programme is, and she sums it up with this venomous barb:

Sue: They should have called the lead actor William Heartless.

THE FIREMAKER

The violence continues to amaze her, and when Za smashes Kal’s head in with a boulder, Sue turns into Mary Whitehouse.

Sue: I just don’t see how they got away with this. You assume that things must have been a lot tamer in the past, but this is brutal stuff, and completely inappropriate for its time slot.

She’s also surprised (but in a good way) that the regulars want to leg it back to the TARDIS so they can leave the bickering tribes to their own devices. However, she’s increasingly annoyed at how quickly and easily Susan has gone from being an enigmatic protagonist to a whimpering child. She isn’t impressed by the claustrophobic feel to the programme, either, even when I explain to her they’re working in the most inappropriate television studio imaginable.

Sue: This looks pretty cheap by today’s standards, but I can see how it must have seemed acceptable back then. If you squint at it.

When our heroes make it back to the TARDIS, my wife is relieved that this particular adventure has finally come to an end.

Sue: Look at the state of them! What a mess. I’m amazed that no one seems to be very heroic in this thing so far. I can’t tell who we’re supposed to root for from one moment to the next. And there was too much grunting!

When the ship’s radiation meter jumps into the red/darker shade of grey, Sue lets out a tiny, “Oooh”. Either she’s humouring me or she genuinely wants to know what happens next.

THE SCORE

When I ask my wife to score the four episodes collectively known as – actually, let’s not get into that now – she doesn’t hesitate:

Sue: Three out of 10.

I think I may have face-palmed.

Sue: Is that too harsh? Is there worse to come?
Me: Oh yes.
Sue: Really? Oh God.

For the first time, my wife looks worried. And then she tells me that she enjoyed the first episode a great deal, but the remaining episodes got bogged down in the politics of the cavemen, and she didn’t really care about them that much. So in the end we decided, just this once, to award separate scores for the opening episode and what Sue now refers to as “that Stone Age nonsense”. So that’s:

7/10 and 4/10 respectively

Join us next time when we’ll... Actually, don’t tell her. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.

COMMENT: “I think you should look up the statistics on this before you seriously think of continuing. Do you know that one in three marriages fail before The Ambassadors of Death?” – Nev Fountain

NOTES: The blog for An Unearthly Child is so perfunctory I’m almost at a loss to explain it. It’s probably the most important episode of Doctor Who ever broadcast and yet Sue failed to mention the theme music, the title sequence, the acting, the direction, the script and the cliffhanger. Ian and Barbara are conspicuous by their absence, and all we really glean from her commentary is my wife doesn’t like William Hartnell’s Doctor very much, and she thinks Susan enjoys being bullied at school.

In summary, we didn’t have bloody clue.

As you can probably tell, I didn’t make any notes when we watched this story, mainly because I didn’t want Sue to talk over the episodes at all. In fact, my original plan for the blog was this: Sue would watch the episode in complete silence (sheer bliss) and then I’d quiz her about it afterwards and write up her thoughts in a succinct paragraph or two (much like the section above where Sue talks about Susan’s desire to stay on Earth in 1963). So if it had been up to me, the entry for The Celestial Toymaker would only be two words (‘racist’ and ‘shit’) and the book you are holding in your hands right now would technically be a pamphlet.

That plan went out of the window as soon as it became apparent Sue would rather talk over the whole thing, which in turn lent itself to the ‘he said, she said’ format, which is probably just as well because it wasn’t long before our readers wanted Sue to comment on everything.

However, during these initial stories in particular, if not this entire first volume, we were still finding our feet. Or at least I was. Sue was simply doing what came naturally to her: yakking over whatever it was we were watching on television that night.

Anyway, to make up for the fact that Sue absorbed An Unearthly Child in complete silence, you’ll find an in-depth analysis of the first episode and the untransmitted pilot in the ‘Extras’ section of this book.

THE DALEKS

BLOGGED: 28 January 2011

THE DEAD PLANET

I would like to point out that Sue made me watch every single episode of this story. Yes, I’m frightened too.

Sue: What’s this one called then?
Me: ‘The Dead Planet’.
Sue: How many episodes is it?
Me: One.
Sue: Excellent.
Me: Well, I say ‘one’. You’re not supposed to know. The episodes have individual titles, which means you wouldn’t have known when one adventure might end and another would begin. A story might last for four episodes, another might last for six -
Sue: Six? Six?!
Me: My advice would be to sit back and relax. Try to think of it as one big adventure. It’ll be more surprising that way.

She’s critical from the off.

Sue: The vision-mixer has cocked-up in the gallery. Look how over-exposed that shot is! That’s shocking.
Me: I think it’s supposed to represent the alienness of the planet.
Sue: Yeah, right. So why did it only last for two seconds, then?

She isn’t impressed with the jungle, the petrified alien, or the model city. I do my best to defend the show – the mantra, “It’s 1963!” is repeated several times – and Sue eventually agrees to cut the special effects some much-needed slack.

She still won’t warm to William Hartnell, though. But who can blame her? When the Doctor sabotages the TARDIS, pretending it’s malfunctioned so he can gain access to the alien city, Sue is livid. Even I’m shaking my head.

However, as Barbara is herded through said city by a series of malevolent doors, I can’t help but notice my wife is biting her nails.

Sue: This is genuinely creepy. I’m starting to worry about Barbara, I really hope she... FUCK ME! IT’S THE DALEKS!

What she actually said was, “Oh look, it’s the Daleks”, in much the same way someone might notice Adam Woodyatt sitting in An Audience With Michael Buble, but I thought an expletive would look better on the page.

Sue: Go on, then. Stick the next one on.

THE SURVIVORS

Sue gasps. She honestly believes Ian is dead – she’s never seen a Dalek stun anyone before – and she’s very relieved when he doesn’t snuff it. I think she fancies him.

Sue: The Daleks look rubbish. How could anyone be scared of the Daleks?
Me: It’s the same design that still scares kids today, not counting the new shit ones, of course. How can you say they don’t work? It’s a design classic!
Sue: Oh, they work fine today. They are built very nicely today – very sturdy. This lot look like you could lift up their lids with a nail file.
Me: That is a bit silly, I suppose.

When our heroes succumb to radiation poisoning, Sue is once again surprised by the adult tone of our beloved programme, and as the episode draws to a close, I’m completely unprepared for her verdict.

Sue: I enjoyed that. It was very tense. More like that, please.

THE ESCAPE

The main topic of discussion today is, inevitably, the Thals. Sue isn’t that keen – she can’t get past their hairstyles, and the less said about the holes in their trousers, the better.

Sue: I thought Daleks could fly?
Me: They can. Or at least they will. Or is it that they already did? It’s complicated. Oh, and it’s 1963.
Sue: I’m not saying that we should see them fly, silly, it’s just that they make a big deal about how they can’t leave their own city. Forget a flight of stairs – they can’t even negotiate gravel! And that reminds me, where’s Davros?

Gravel reminds Sue of Davros because of his “gravelly voice”. But before we can get into that (thank heavens), she becomes engrossed in the scene where our heroes disarm a Dalek and Ian clambers inside it. She is, to put it mildly, incredulous.

Sue: What the hell are they doing? They can’t do that, can they? That just makes it blatantly obvious the Daleks are driven around by middle-aged men in cardigans. Do they ever do that sort of thing again?
Me: Roy Castle does, but don’t worry about him, he doesn’t count.

She believes that the next episode will involve a clawed monstrosity rampaging through a city. She wants to watch it straight away, but I manage to dissuade her, hoping she’ll have forgotten about the poor thing by tomorrow.

THE AMBUSH

Sue asks me if there’s going to be an ambush in this episode and I’m forced to admit that Terry Nation likes prosaic episode titles. She’ll get used to it eventually.

Sue: Terry Nation invented Doctor Who, though, so you have to cut him some slack. Are you impressed that I know that?

When the promised ambush arrives, the Daleks’ treachery is almost as transparent as the Thals’ trousers.

Sue: The Daleks are luring the Thals to their doom with coconuts and rolls of toilet paper. What’s that all about? And what are the Daleks doing with toilet paper, anyway?

She’s also convinced the Thals must be a very shortsighted species, because they can’t see the Daleks hiding in plain sight.

Sue: This programme is incredibly bleak.
Me: How do you mean?
Sue: Isn’t it obvious? Its so-called heroes are going to do a runner, leaving these poor idiots to the mercy of the Daleks. I can’t believe this story is going to end without a happy resolution. Did anyone complain about that when it first went out?

And then the Doctor drops a bombshell: his subterfuge has backfired and he’s marooned everyone on Skaro. I can’t tell if my wife is relieved or disappointed.

Sue: They’re still bastards for trying to leave. It serves them right.

THE EXPEDITION

Not for the first time, Sue can’t get her head around what our heroes plan to do next.

Sue: Are they really going to sacrifice an army of innocent Thals so they can escape? That is outrageous.
Me: But very realistic, don’t you think? Wouldn’t you do everything in your power to get off this planet?
Sue: Don’t worry, I know exactly how they feel.

Ian goads a Thal named Alydon into smacking him in the mouth, and Sue is put out when the teacher ends up with a thick lip. But she’s even more annoyed that Ian has conned the Thals into rising up against the Daleks with the oldest trick in the book.

Sue: The Thals would make a rubbish army, anyway. They don’t look like they could punch their way out of a paper bag.

She is, however, impressed by the swamp set. She even liked the octopus thing, if you can call, “That was a slightly better special effect” praise. I’m just relieved she didn’t notice the cardboard cut-out Daleks (although I did book her an appointment with an optician).

Incidentally, when a Thal named Ganatus falls asleep on Barbara’s leg, she is utterly convinced they’re having an affair, and that Ian will go mental when he inevitably finds out.

THE ORDEAL

Sue: Okay, let’s put aside the ‘one big adventure’ nonsense. Just tell me how many more fucking episodes this goes on for.

When the episode’s title appears, Sue mumbles, “You’re telling me” at the screen. And as the Doctor and Susan enter the Dalek city, she groans when they are predictably captured.

Sue: Completely useless.

She’s not that keen on the trials and tribulations befalling the other characters, either.

Sue: We’re going to watch every single person jump across this bloody ravine, aren’t we? And every single one of them will take forever. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?

My wife is so bored, she’s reverted to imagining contemporary actors and celebrities playing the Thals, eventually deciding Antodus looks a bit like Michael McIntyre in a bad mood.

Sue: Oh look, it’s a literal cliffhanger. I don’t know if that’s clever or lazy.

THE RESCUE

Sue: Shall we get another one over and done with?

When I said Sue was responsible for us watching these episodes, I didn’t say she was enjoying them.

Thankfully, Antodus’s sacrifice gets things off to a flying start, and the episode’s stunt work is given the admiration it deserves. However, when Ian and his gang run into Alydon a little later, Sue spots the obvious flaw:

Sue: What was the point of all that pissing about in the swamp when they could have walked through the front door with him?

When the Doctor attempts to bribe the Daleks with the secret of time travel, my wife isn’t remotely surprised.

Sue: If he was a modern Doctor, you’d assume he was toying with them and he had a plan up his sleeve, but with this git you really believe he’ll sell out the Thals to get away. What a total knob.

The final battle, which should be exciting and cathartic – especially after all that build-up – is ruined by a series of disparaging remarks about the Daleks’ inability to shoot straight. And when the Doctor is freed but then refuses to do anything even remotely heroic (the only humanoid on-screen who doesn’t), Sue actually boos him.

Sue: They should have called the show Ian.

But she’s happy, too. We are finally leaving Skaro. And then, just to make it clear she has been paying attention, she proudly exclaims over the closing credits:

Sue: I told you Barbara was shagging a Thal.

THE SCORE

Sue deliberated for ages. I’d chided her for rushing to judgement with a crap score last week, so I admired her decision to give her verdict some serious thought and consideration this time.

Sue: Three out of 10.

I think I may have face-palmed.

Sue: Have I done it again? Is that too low? Will people be upset with me?
Me: Don’t worry about them. I just want to record your honest reactions.
Sue: Two out of 10.
Me: Are you joking?
Sue: I don’t really have anything to compare it to, apart from the new series. Oh, and Genesis of the Daleks, which this story seems to contradict.

I protest, pointing out that events in that story don’t happen for another 10 years, but getting into Dalek chronology right now could be fatal so I pull back.

Sue: I don’t understand how you want me to watch this. Do you want me to react how a viewer in 1963 would? Or as someone who knows nothing about Doctor Who in 2011? Do you want me to pretend I don’t know what a Dalek is?
Me: Just be yourself and react how a viewer with some working knowledge of Doctor Who would.
Sue: Define working knowledge? I can name all the actors, you know. Even the one who doesn’t count.
Me: (Under my breath) Ones.
Sue: Sorry, what was that?
Me: Nothing. Look, just be completely honest about how it feels to watch the programme right now. If you want to contextualise it, and give the production team a break because they were pioneers who didn’t have a clue what they were making, that’s fine. And if you want to look upon it favourably because it introduced an icon into popular culture, well, that would be acceptable as well.
Sue: Okay, okay. Calm down. In that case I’ll give it:

3/10

Me: You do realise that if it wasn’t for this story, the series would have been cancelled after a handful of episodes. We wouldn’t be conducting this experiment today if it wasn’t for The Daleks.
Sue: Can I change my score back to Two out of 10?

COMMENT: “It’s amazing how little Doctor Who has rubbed off on Sue during your long marriage. I look forward to her reaction to The Web Planet, which, if I recall, is 246 episodes long.” – Steve O’Brien

NOTES: This is the first time Sue raises one of her most consistent bugbears with the classic series: poor peripheral vision in times of crisis.

THE EDGE OF DESTRUCTION

BLOGGED: 29 January 2011

THE EDGE OF DESTRUCTION

Sue finds it amusing that travelling in the TARDIS is a traumatic experience for everyone concerned, and when the crew are thrown violently to the floor, she doesn’t see it as a portent of doom, she regards it as business as usual. She’s wrong, of course.

Sue: What the hell is going on? This is a bit mental.

Her bewilderment lasts for several minutes. In fact, the last time she looked like this, I was explaining the plot of A Serbian Film to her.

Sue: Oh. My. God.

She is, of course, referring to Hartnell’s bandage (“He looks even more ridiculous than usual”), but she’s even more flummoxed by this episode’s infamous running-with-scissors scene.

Sue: That’s bang out-of-order. I wouldn’t let my children watch that. That was borderline irresponsible. There’s also this weird insinuation that Susan is self-harming. What time did this go out again?

As the bickering and paranoia reaches its peak, Sue convinces herself that Ian and Susan have been possessed by an evil alien intelligence and it’ll be up to the other two to sort it out.

Sue: What are they flapping on about now? I can’t tell what I’m supposed to be reacting to. Have I missed something important?
Me: It’s a melting clock. Don’t worry about it – it would have been difficult to work out what it was supposed to be on a tiny television set in 1964.
Sue: I can’t work it out on a 50-inch plasma!

When the Doctor drugs his companions, Sue doesn’t bat an eyelid.

Sue: The Doctor is the only person who’s acting in character. He’s always unpleasant.

As the episode draws to a close, Sue suggests we save the next one for tomorrow. And she’s usually so eager to press on.

THE BRINK OF DISASTER

In a desperate attempt to inject this instalment with some much-needed urgency, I inform Sue that elements introduced in this story will be referenced later in the series. There’s the Heart of the TARDIS from Boom Town, for example, and the incessant neck-rubbing will be referenced throughout Jon Pertwee’s tenure. She promises to make notes for future reference.

Sue: The Doctor is definitely possessed by something – he can’t get his words out. He’s made a right mess of the title of this episode for a start.

As the story hurtles towards its rather baffling conclusion, Sue begins to flounder.

Sue: I’m completely lost. What the hell are they going on about now?
Me: Try to think of it as an edition of the 1980s quiz show 3-2-1, with the TARDIS in the Ted Rogers role and the Big Bang as Dusty Bin. William Hartnell is almost certainly Norman Collier.
Sue: So this has been a series of cryptic clues about a faulty switch? Why didn’t the TARDIS just put the words, ‘There’s a problem with my switch’ on its monitor? I’d hate to ring a support line if I had a problem with a TARDIS – it would be murder! And what were the scissors supposed to represent? A holiday for two in Corfu?

Remind me never to take Sue to Corfu.

Incredibly, she doesn’t react to the hand-written note scrawled above the fast return switch, and when I eventually point it out to her she assumes the Doctor must have put it there because he’s suffering from Alzheimer’s.

However, when Hartnell leans back on the TARDIS console to deliver a soliloquy about the birth of a sun, my wife is spellbound.

Sue: I loved that. What a great speech. That’s the first time he’s acted like the Doctor. I especially like the way they framed and lit that shot. It was very dramatic.

The Doctor apologises for his actions.

Sue: About bloody time.
Me: I knew you’d like Hartnell eventually.
Sue: Don’t push it, Neil.

THE SCORE

Sue: Well, that was crap.
Me: Controversial.
Sue: Really? Do the fans like this one?
Me: No.
Sue: Most of it was dire, but I really liked the last five minutes.

I break out into a cold sweat. If my wife gives this story a higher score than 100,000 BC the universe might implode.

Sue: I think I enjoyed it. It certainly wasn’t boring. It felt quite daring, in fact. And there’s something about Hartnell right at the end that gives me hope. Having said that, it’s only really worth:

2/10

And then she told me she would have scored The Edge of Destruction a big fat zero if it hadn’t been for its denouement.

Sue: What’s next?
Me: That’s a very good question.

Sue’s reaction to the news that over 100 episodes of Doctor Who are currently missing from the archives was unique to say the least.

Sue: What a blessed relief.

When I explain to her that a man named John Cura and a small army of fans armed with reel-to-reel tape recorders have made it possible for us to experience these stories after all, she gives me a withering look.

Sue: Fuck off. I’ve read some of the comments on the blog. These are the recons that everyone keeps going on about, aren’t they? Rob Shearman says I shouldn’t watch them.
Me: Stop pretending you know who Rob Shearman is.

This is a make-or-break moment. If I pull out the recon to ‘The Roof of the World’ and she can’t handle it, the experiment could be over. I don’t even know if I can sit through it. Luckily for us, there’s a condensed version of Marco Polo on The Edge of Destruction DVD, which means we can experience all seven episodes in less than 30 minutes. What do you mean, that’s cheating?

COMMENT: “Neil, you’ll be a withered husk by the time you get through the recons with Sue, guessing by the nature of the price you’ve paid. She’ll have you parading around in a gimp suit by the end of Marco Polo.” – Frank Collins

MARCO POLO

BLOGGED: 31 January 2011

Against everyone’s advice, except for some divorce lawyers who contacted us late last week, our experiment continues with a reconstruction. Sue is initially perplexed by the experience.

Sue: It looks like a normal episode to me. This isn’t so bad. I don’t know what all the fuss is about.
Me: This is the recap from the last episode, love.

Five minutes into the reconstruction proper, I ask her how she’s coping. She’s been very quiet so far.

Sue: Ssh! They’re talking about caravans.

We used to live in a caravan (for three and a half years – it’s a long story).

Sue: I’m actually enjoying this much more than some of the others I’ve seen. It’s a lot faster.
Me: The original version is a lot slower.
Sue: Can we watch all of them like this? It would save us a great deal of time.

A 30-minute version of The Sensorites sounds appealing, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.

Sue: Is that Tony Hadley?
Me: No, Sue, it isn’t. It’s Mark Eden.

THE SCORE

It seems unfair to ask Sue to grade this story based on a heavily condensed edit, but at least it provided her with a flavour for both the adventure and the recons as a whole.

Sue: I really enjoyed that. For the very first time, I could actually get into the story. I think it helps that these are real, historical people, instead of cavemen or silly aliens. The plot was very gentle, and I didn’t really understand what happened at the end – did the Doctor win the backgammon game or not? – but I really liked the tone of the story.

She also praised the sets, the costumes and the acting (“When you just listen to them, you realise how good they are”) and she’s convinced the lack of moving pictures actually enhanced her enjoyment because she wasn’t distracted by “poor camera work and flimsy sets”.

Sue: The Doctor was a lot nicer, too. I liked the flashes of sarcasm and I can actually see (or hear) a connection to the character I’m familiar with today. Yes, I enjoyed it. It’s a shame this one is missing. I’ll give it:

6/10

Me: So, how do you feel about us watching more recons?
Sue: Not a problem. Bring ‘em on.

COMMENT: “I do hope that at some stage you will redo this one in its entirety.” – James

NOTES: Big mistake. Not that we opened the door to more recons (although that was bad enough), it’s the fact we took the easy way out and didn’t watch all seven episodes when we had the chance. It didn’t concern me at the time; I thought I was doing the right thing under the circumstances. But as we neared the end of our experiment, I knew we would be called on it eventually. And, of course, we were. It didn’t help that the blog’s episode counter made its omission even more glaringly obvious.

This has now been rectified, and you’ll find an entry for Marco Polo Redux – all seven episodes! – in the ‘Extras’ section of this book.

Finally, I can sleep again.

THE KEYS OF MARINUS

BLOGGED: 6 February 2011

THE SEA OF DEATH

Sue: Pause! Stop it! Rewind!

Damn, she’s good. Even I didn’t notice the production team member pushing the revolving door when I saw this episode for the first time. It happens at least twice (three times, according to Sue), and she spends the entire episode scanning the frame for the slightest hint of an AFM. She’s gonna love Earthshock and Snakedance if we get that far (and on the strength of this episode, I wouldn’t hold your breath). Her reaction to the Voord is interesting, though.

Sue: Pah! They are obviously men in rubber suits.

And then, a little later...

Sue: They are men in rubber suits! That’s very clever, actually. Fair play. I’m impressed.

She’s horrified when our heroes discover one of the poor buggers has been liquefied in his suit (“That’s a bit sick!”), but she perks up again when Ian and Barbara lecture the audience about temples and counterweights.

Sue: What a nice scene. They’re educating the audience, but it feels completely natural because the real heroes of this programme are a couple of schoolteachers.

A man named Arbitan sends the time travellers on an important life-or-death mission, but Sue isn’t convinced.

Sue: Okay, let me get this straight: this monk wants to use a machine that rules the minds of men – especially men in wetsuits – but doesn’t that make him a dictator? I’m not convinced this bloke is a good guy. I don’t trust him one little bit.

Our heroes agree with Sue and they decide to piss off back to the TARDIS (as is their habit). But when disaster strikes, they’re forced to help Arbitan after all.

Sue: Ian is acting as if this is an inconvenience to him. He actually suggests they just get on with it and find the bloody keys. The Doctor is rightly appalled that they’re being blackmailed into helping this guy, but nobody seems to be bothered by what this machine of his actually does.

And then Arbitan is stabbed in the back by a Voord.

Sue: I didn’t see that coming. I can’t get a handle on this at all.

THE VELVET WEB

The first thing that annoys Sue about this episode is the suggestion Barbara has had enough time to get settled into a hotel (a hotel that looks suspiciously like the Grace Brothers department store), even though she arrived there only a few seconds before her companions did.

Sue: They don’t seem to be in a hurry to find these keys. They look like they’re happy to sit around, stuffing their faces with pomegranates. If they can’t be bothered, why should I?

Only Ian believes things are too good to be true.

Sue: All these beds make it look like they’re taking part in Big Brother. There’s even a flashing eye in the wall. That means the diary room is free.

And then, in a very poor Geordie accent – which is amazing when you consider she was born in the North East – Sue drawls:

Sue: It’s day 42 in the Big Brother house. Ian has been given a secret task to find the Keys of Marinus, while Susan has been called to the diary room for counselling because she won’t stop crying.

When the plot kicks finally into gear, Sue’s praises the POV shots and pre-filmed cutaways. She’s catching on fast when it comes to understanding how they used to make the show back then, probably because I keep banging on about it, but she still can’t accept a laboratory set which consists of nothing more than a table and a dirty mug. I try to defend the scene’s internal logic but it’s hopeless.

Thankfully, we can both agree that Barbara Wright is brilliant, especially when she smashes the Morphotons to smithereens.

Sue: I love Barbara, even if she does remind me of Cherie Blair in a polo neck sweater.

When our heroes decide to split up (so Hartnell can go on holiday for a fortnight), Sue has an epiphany.

Sue: I’ve realised what this story reminds me of.
Me: What? Flash Gordon? Waiting for Godot? Ibsen?
Sue: No. Todd Rundgren.
Me: WHAT?

And then Sue told me something I’ve never read in any magazine, fanzine or Andrew Pixley archive: The Keys of Marinus inspired Rundgren’s 1970s prog rock band, Utopia, to write their 1977 album, Ra. She fires up her iPad and recites the lyrics to ‘Singring and the Glass Guitar’.

Sue: ‘Jealous forces have conspired to capture the spirit, imprisoning it in a chest with four keys, and casting the four keys to the four corners of the Earth.’ See!

Even Tat Wood didn’t pick up on that!

Sue: I liked that episode. It didn’t piss about. I wouldn’t want to spend six episodes fighting stupid brains in a jar, but this one flew by. Next!

THE SCREAMING JUNGLE

Sue: I don’t think I can take another 25 minutes of Susan screaming. She’s really beginning to annoy me. Don’t you want to give her a slap, Neil?
Me: Don’t feel bad about it. Carole Ann Ford felt pretty much the same way.
Sue: I wish Altos was still wearing the costume created by his imagination, because what he’s got on right now leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination! If he bends down, I may faint.

Things get even saucier when Barbara has to deal with a security device which consists of an idol with realistic hand action.

Sue: If Barbara was a few inches shorter, she could sue that statue for sexual harassment.

Inside the temple, the security measures are even more over-the-top (“It’s Mousetrap!”), and then the plants come to life and kill the guardian of the key. He dies before he can tell Ian and Barbara where the thing is hidden, but he does have enough time to leave a cryptic clue. They search desperately for the solution as a floor manager waves a bush at them from the corner of the studio.

Sue: There’s a lot of tension in this scene.
Me: Yes, sentient plants are very scary, but you ain’t seen nothing yet – just you wait until 1976!
Sue: No, I’m talking about the sexual tension between Ian and Barbara. If they aren’t shagging yet (and if you ask me, they’ve been at it for years), then it won’t be long now.

Then, as if to prove her point, the episode ends with our heroes cuddling each other. They are about to freeze to death, but even so.

Me: So, did you miss the Doctor?
Sue: Who?

THE SNOWS OF TERROR

Doctor Who is famous for its iconic monsters – Daleks, Cybermen, Sontarans, Fifi the Stigorax – but nothing could have prepared Sue for this story’s contribution to that roll call of evil: a fat, hairy rapist.

Sue: This is unbelievable. It isn’t even subtle. He’s going to take Barbara by force! This is much more upsetting than any Dalek. What the fuck is this?
Me: It reminds me of The Year of the Sex Olympics.
Sue: I don’t want to know about your weird porn collection, thank you very much.

She takes her mind off the oppressive threat of imminent sexual violence by concentrating on how unbelievably fake the snow looks. Once again, I tell her to wait for 1976. She also finds it hard to believe Altos could survive Skegness, let alone sub-zero temperatures on Marinus, in that skimpy dress of his. Not that Ian is faring any better in his silk kimono and furry tank top.

Sue: Haven’t we been here before? Weren’t they flinging themselves across painfully narrow chasms just a few weeks ago? This feels very familiar.
Me: What can I say? Terry Nation suffered from short-term memory loss.

Speaking of memories, I inform Sue that the Ice Knights are almost certainly Peter Davison’s first memory of the show, and if he ever needed to act scared when he was playing the Doctor, he’d think about this sequence because it freaked him out so much.

Sue: Really? Does he look like he’s falling about laughing when he’s supposed to be scared, then? Because they look like the Knights who say “Ni!” This is like a pantomime. How can you go from the threat of rape and murder to this?

The episode concludes with Ian being bludgeoned over the head by an unseen assailant. Sue is convinced the Doctor must be responsible, because she still can’t get it into her head he’s supposed to be the good guy.

SENTENCE OF DEATH

William Hartnell is back and, to my surprise, Sue is pleased to see him, especially now he’s reinvented himself as a geriatric Sherlock Holmes.

Sue: He’s really good in this scene. He’s not quite Benedict Cumberbatch, but he’s close. I think he went on holiday and had a bloody good think about how he should play this part. This is the best I’ve seen him so far.

Because this is 1960s Doctor Who, the threat of sexual violence is never that far away, and this time it’s the sound of a policeman beating his wife behind closed doors which provokes the most head-shaking from Sue.

Sue: What’s with all the violence against women in this programme? What’s that all about?

Her observation is given even more weight when Barbara takes a phone call from a kidnapper who has taken Susan hostage. As the poor girl calmly proclaims she’s about to be murdered, we could be forgiven for thinking we’re watching a gritty crime thriller about a paedophile ring.

Sue: That was the best episode so far. I could actually believe most of it. The sets looked real and the society felt vaguely realistic for a change, too. The problem lies with the direction – it’s so flat. There was some nice depth of field in the courtroom scenes, but it’s very slow.

THE KEYS OF MARINUS

As the plot on Millennius meanders inexorably towards its conclusion, Sue’s thoughts begin to turn to what our heroes will do with the eponymous keys now they’ve found them.

Sue: If they hand them over to the dictator, I’ll be very disappointed.
Me: He’s already dead! He was stabbed at the end of the first episode!
Sue: Was he? I don’t remember that.
Me: We only saw it five days ago! If this was the 1960s, a whole month would have passed.
Sue: They should do a re-cap at the beginning of every episode.
Me: They already do!

Our heroes return to Arbitan’s temple, unaware the Voord are crawling all over it.

Sue: Who are this lot again?
Me: That’s Yartek, former leader of the glorious alien Voord.
Sue: Oh yes, the blokes in the wetsuits. Hang on, if they’re wearing wetsuits, why haven’t they taken them off yet?
Me: Maybe they have and that’s what they look like underneath. I don’t know!

Yartek attempts to extract the final key from Ian with a cunning disguise – he places a cloak over his head and refuses to look him in the eye.

Sue: That isn’t even remotely suspicious. If Ian falls for that, I’ll be very disappointed.

Bizarrely, he does and he doesn’t. Ian claims something was a bit fishy about Arbitan (was it the fact he had the wrong shaped-head and a completely different voice, perhaps?) but he still hasn’t caught on yet. And then, two minutes later, just when everything looks like it’s going to go completely pear-shaped, he tells us he gave Yartek the wrong key, anyway. Sue doesn’t buy this for a second.

Sue: What a load of old bollocks.

THE SCORE

Sue: The only positive thing I can say about this story is that it kept things interesting with a different location each week. But the acting was dreadful. Altos was a wimp and Sabetha the Teenage Wench was painfully wooden. In fact, I think she’s still possessed by those brains in a jar.

4/10

I’m really worried about the next story. I love The Aztecs to bits – it’s my favourite Hartnell by a mile – and if Sue doesn’t enjoy it, I’ll be crushed.

COMMENT: “Poor Sue. I’m sure this experiment classes you as some type of sadist/pervert. Still, I’m really enjoying reading her reviews so I probably qualify as one myself now.” – Hugh

NOTES: There are some people who are adamant that Peter Davison is referring to Tomb of the Cybermen when he tells his story about being scared as a child. Peter would have been 16 years old when Tomb was broadcast so either a) they’re completely wrong or b) Peter was a very nervous teenager.

THE AZTECS

BLOGGED: 10 February 2011

THE TEMPLE OF EVIL

My hope that Sue would soak up this episode in revered silence is dashed within seconds, mainly because we get embroiled in two very tedious discussions. Well, tedious to me, at least.

Sue: Why have they decided to visit the Aztecs? I thought Ian and Barbara wanted to get back to 1963?
Me: They’ve arrived here by accident.
Sue: Why?
Me: Well, the TARDIS doesn’t work properly.
Sue: Really? I didn’t know that. I thought the Doctor had fixed it. So when does it work properly? It seems to work all right in the new series. I thought the Doctor could go anywhere he liked?
Me: Er, well, it takes him a while to fix it, or at least figure out how to use it properly. It’s debatable. In fact, if you keep your eye on the Doctor, you’ll see him fiddling with the TARDIS all the -
Sue: DAVE? Is that DAVE?

Yes, Tlotoxl has turned up and Sue is convinced that The League of Gentlemen must have based Papa Lazarou on him (it isn’t impossible, I suppose).

Me: It’s actually Penny’s dad from Just Good Friends.
Sue: Is there something wrong with his back or is he walking like that on purpose?
Me: He’s doing a Richard III.
Sue: Not a Young Frankenstein?
Me: Not unless the production team are time travellers as well, no.
Sue: So, why are all the Aztecs speaking English?

Here we go. Why it’s taken her until now to question why everyone speaks English (including Thals, Voords and cavemen) is beyond me, but there you go. I can either tell her to wait until the 1970s for an explanation, or I can give her the official line now. Sadly, we end up debating this during one of Hartnell’s very best moments, and she doesn’t hear his passionate warning to Barbara about interfering with history. Not one line.

Me: It isn’t stated on-screen until years later, but the TARDIS translates languages telepathically. Look, this was a plot point in David Tennant’s first episode, which you’ve definitely seen.
Sue: Like a Baffle Fish.
Me: Yes, exactly like a Baffle Fish. Very good.

Look, my wife is trying to drop references to The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy in the middle of a black and white episode of Doctor Who – you try correcting her.

I have to fill in some of the important details we missed due to this diversion (“I thought the Doctor interfered with history all the time?”), and Sue concedes that the plot is a step up from last week.

Sue: It’s more believable – I’ll give it that. It’s just a shame that everyone looks ridiculous.

However, when Tlotoxl looms menacingly into the camera – after an incredibly bleak moment where Barbara saves a life, only for the intended victim to kill himself anyway – Sue reckons it’s the best cliffhanger yet.

Sue: Now that’s what I call scary. Do you think Russell Brand has seen this?

THE WARRIORS OF DEATH

Before we watched this episode, I made Sue sit through a short DVD extra which featured Valerie Singleton giving a 1970s Blue Peter audience a potted history of the Aztecs. As a result of this, Sue is now convinced Tlotoxl is underdressed compared to the real thing and we can move on.

Sue: The direction is much better than last week. It’s much more dramatic and thought out. The acting is a big improvement, too.
Me: What about Hartnell? Don’t you think he’s great in this?
Sue: I’m sorry but I don’t think I’ll ever like William Hartnell. I just don’t get him. He’s all over the place. It’s as if he’s playing a completely different character in every scene he’s in. He still hasn’t worked out how to do it yet.

As if to punctuate her complete indifference to the lead character, when the Doctor enjoys a delightful moment in the garden with Cameca, my wife decides to fixate on Ronnie Wood lurking in the background instead. She has a point, though. It is pretty weird.

As Ian and Ixta fight to the death, Sue doesn’t understand why Ian doesn’t use his magic thumb again (“He’s copying Dr Spock!” – look, cut her some slack, she’s watching a black and white episode of Doctor Who) and when the Doctor accidentally helps Ixta drug poor Ian (not content with supplying the drug in the first place), Sue doesn’t hold back.

Sue: He’s a bloody liability!

THE BRIDE OF SACRIFICE

Sue enjoys the romantic subplot between Cameca and the Doctor, and she laughs in all the right places. When the penny drops (reader, he married her) and Hartnell is framed in a wildly comic close-up, she can’t help but compliment him.

Sue: Hartnell should have played more comedy roles. He’s actually very good at comedy.

The scene where the Doctor’s granddaughter rebuffs the Perfect Victim generates even more praise.

Sue: Susan actually sounded like a real person for a change. If you give her stuff to do, she’s actually very good. The problem is I keep expecting her to throw a childish tantrum. She isn’t consistent. In fact, the only consistent characters in this programme are Ian and Barbara.

Unfortunately, it isn’t long before the Doctor annoys Sue yet again.

Sue: He’s just using that poor woman. He’s leading her on. What a git!

As Ian and the Doctor search the gardens for the entrance to a hidden tomb (“I’ve never seen the Doctor move so fast; he’s almost proactive”), Sue tries to make a virtue of the show’s limitations.

Sue: Ah, bless him. Ian is trying really hard to make that slab look real, even though it’s obviously made from polystyrene.
Me: It’s Jablite, actually.
Sue: Stop pretending you know anything about building materials, love. Remember who built the house you’re sitting in. And Jablite is polystyrene, you idiot.

THE DAY OF DARKNESS

Sue watched vast chunks of the final episode in complete silence. She stopped asking questions, she stopped pointing out the cosmetic flaws, and she started biting her nails.

When Cameca realises the Doctor is going to leave her, and she still does everything in her power to help him escape, Sue is almost moved, although she still harbours doubts about the Doctor’s sincerity and integrity.

Sue: Why doesn’t he take her with him in the TARDIS? She could be another companion. Take her with you!

Interestingly, she doesn’t question the Doctor’s ability to have a relationship because he’s an alien, she simply sees him as a bit of a flirt who used his charm to get what he wanted. The swine.

Me: How bleak was that? They didn’t win! Tlotoxl gets his way and the Aztec civilisation is doomed. And Autloc – the only good guy in this story – has been banished to the wilderness, and that sounds pretty fatal to me.
Sue: You could remake this story today. It would look spectacular.
Me: If they remade this story today, the Daleks or the Cybermen would be involved.
Sue: Oh yes, there are no aliens in this – I didn’t even notice that. I suppose that makes it more educational. I like that aspect to it.

As our heroes prepare to leave, the Doctor takes the brooch which Cameca gave him and leaves it on the tomb. And then he has second thoughts and slips it back into his pocket, at which point Sue makes an involuntary ‘Aww’ noise.

Sue: So he really did care about her after all.
Me: Don’t tell me you’re actually warming to him?
Sue: A bit... A bit.

THE SCORE

I take a deep breath as Sue sums up.

Sue: That’s the best one so far. The story was interesting, and fairly believable, and everyone was trying really, really hard. I don’t think I’ll ever want to watch it again, but it was pretty good. For its time.

7/10

What a blessed relief. Sadly, we all know what’s coming next, and it hasn’t even been vidFIRED yet. Pray for us.

COMMENT: “Good on Sue! I knew she’d come through. She’ll be going to conventions dressed as her favourite Doctor before the year is out.” – Matthew Marcus

NOTES: Not only am I still clinging to the deluded hope that Sue will save her comments for the end of the episode, yet more proof the blog was still finding its feet can be found at the point where it doesn’t cross my mind to rewind the DVD when Sue misses the bit that everyone quotes from this story. Unforgivable, really.

THE SENSORITES

BLOGGED: 17 February 2011

STRANGERS IN SPACE

The Sensorites begins with an incongruous scene which features our heroes fondly remembering all their adventures together so far, although nobody mentions the weird one with the scissors. However, when Barbara waves away her experiences in Mexico with a vague shrug, Sue isn’t very happy.

Sue: “I’m over it now?” That was a bit quick!
Me: Perhaps a significant amount of time has passed between the two stories?
Sue: Well they can’t have done anything interesting or they would have mentioned it during their ‘previously on Doctor Who’ recap.

Never mind that, the action has shifted to an eerie spaceship which seems to be piloted by two corpses. The Doctor immediately takes the initiative and looks for an excuse to leave.

Sue: Five minutes ago he was banging on about a great spirit of adventure, and now he wants to run away at the first sign of danger. Where’s his scientific curiosity gone?

Sadly, before we can all escape to a nice historical, the ‘corpses’ wake up (“Great diagnosis, Doc!”), and our heroes are waylaid as a mysterious figure cuts the lock out of the TARDIS.

Sue: Hang on a minute. I thought the TARDIS was indestructible. How can you take its lock out like that? How rubbish is that? What makes it even worse is that it’s happening when they’re standing two feet away from it! They can smell the lock burning but no-one even glances at the TARDIS. Rubbish!

I change the subject.

Me: The Sense Sphere is just over the road from the Ood Sphere. You know, where the Ood come from.
Sue: If you say so, Neil.

Sue loves the fact that poor, mad John looks like Roger Taylor from Queen having a bad trip, and she’s completely gobsmacked when Hartnell takes control of a spaceship.

Sue: The Doctor is actually doing something heroic! He saved the day! I can hardly believe it.

And then Sue makes me pause the DVD because the high-pitched whining emanating from the advancing Sensorites is tormenting our pets. Our dog, Buffy, is whimpering and clawing at her ears, while our cats pause to scowl at us before sauntering off to find a quieter room.

Sue: I thought this one was supposed to be rubbish? It wasn’t that bad. In fact, I quite liked it. It was very noir and grubby.
Me: That’s probably because it hasn’t been vidFIREd yet.
Sue: Did they decide not to vidfire it (she doesn’t get the capitalisation) because the fans don’t rate this story very highly?
Me: Don’t worry, Sue, I’m sure they’ll polish this turd eventually.

THE UNWILLING WARRIORS

Sue: Aww, bless.

Sue is very taken by the Sensorites, even if they are wearing romper suits and have dinner plates for feet.

Sue: When they put their stethoscopes to their heads, they remind me of those Russell T Davies monsters with the spaghetti coming out of their mouths.
Me: The Ood. Yes, I know. I told you yesterday, they’re practically neighbours.
Sue: Did you? That’s interesting. I think they’re a pretty good alien for the time. I’m sure this would have frightened kids in the 1960s. They have a cool name as well.
Me: When I saw pictures of the Sensorites in books, back when I was a kid myself, I thought they were the best monsters ever. They looked really eerie and threatening, and there’s this Top Trump card from the 1970s where they look amazing. And then I finally got to see the episodes in the mid-90s – you’d already gone to bed – and they were a crushing disappointment.
Sue: What’s so bad about it? It’s fine so far. What happens to make it so terrible?
Me: I can’t remember.
Sue: And you call yourself a fan?
Me: I haven’t seen this in years.
Sue: Why not? You’re always staying up late to watch this stuff. I can hear the theme tune playing downstairs when I’m trying to sleep.
Me: Because, Sue, even in my darkest hours, I’ve never found myself in a situation where I’ve ever wanted to watch The Sensorites again.
Sue: But I thought you liked everything about Doctor Who?
Me: I don’t like all of it! It isn’t possible to like all of it. That would be insane. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying or incapable of critical thought.
Sue: But you’ll still buy this story when it’s released on DVD?
Me: Of course I bloody will. Now hush, we’re missing an exciting bit in a corridor.

HIDDEN DANGER

In an attempt to keep boredom at bay, I ask Sue to play a little game with me.

Me: You see that Sensorite over there? Yes, the fat one who hasn’t said anything yet. Well, I’ll give you a foot massage if you can tell me who he is. I’ll even give you a clue: he’s best known for co-hosting a popular children’s TV programme in the 1960s and ’70s. You’ll want to shout its name out when you get it.
Sue: Is it John Craven?
Me: No.
Sue: Is it John Noakes?
Me: No.
Sue: Is it Brian Cant from Play School?
Me: Don’t be silly.

When Sue isn’t dredging her memories for 1960s children’s entertainers, she’s seeing odd patterns in the narrative.

Sue: This is a bit like Avatar.

As I finish mopping up the tea I’ve spilt over myself, I pluck up the courage to probe her further.

Me: Avatar?! AVATAR??!
Sue: Well, it isn’t in 3D, obviously, and the aliens aren’t blue.
Me: Their costumes might have been blue, actually.
Sue: Well there you go, then! It’s exactly the same thing, it just features a different rare mineral. I don’t understand why you’ve been so reluctant to watch this one. It isn’t bad at all. You should keep an open mind.

The episode concludes with an attempt on Ian’s life. At first Sue believes William Russell is choking on his water by accident, so it comes as a bit of a shock when he finally keels over. However, given that Ian is clearly Sue’s favourite character, I expected her to show a little more concern. But no.

Sue: I’ve got it! Is it the bloke with the beard from Fingerbobs?

A RACE AGAINST DEATH

It’s Valentine’s Night, and that can mean only one thing – it’s time for The Sensorites episode four.

I would like to digress for a moment so I can clarify a couple of things. Firstly, Sue is responsible for keeping this experiment on track. Without exception, she’s been the one who’s suggested that we watch our daily dose of Doctor Who every day. If it were up to me, we’d still be on Skaro. In short, I’m not forcing her to do anything.

Secondly, I lived in a static caravan for THREE AND-A-HALF YEARS for Sue. We didn’t have a working telephone for the first 18 months, and I had to put up with a dial-up modem when we did. Sky Plus was a pipe dream, our toilet would freeze over in the winter, the rain sounded like someone dropping nails on the roof, and I shared this cramped environment with two kittens, a fully grown Labrador and a teenage daughter.

This is payback time.

Sue built a lovely house, I’ll give her that, and I’m sure I’ll look back on those years we spent in the Lyndhurst 2000 with a mixture of pride and nostalgia one day, like an ex-con reminiscing about doing bird in Pentonville. But trust me, watching The Sensorites episode four is a walk in the park compared to having to cook in your own living room.

Oh, who am I kidding? It’s The Sensorites episode four!

Sue: Is it a young Keith Chegwin?
Me: No.
Sue: Is it one of the Corbetts from Sooty and Sweep?
Me: (Resigned) It’s Peter Glaze.
Sue: Who the hell is Peter Glaze?
Me: Crackerjack! You know! Peter Glaze! The short fat one with the glasses. Peter Haining pretended to interview him once.
Sue: How the hell am I supposed to know it’s Peter fucking Glaze? I demand a foot massage! Now!

Well, it is Valentine’s Night.

What’s that? We didn’t review The Sensorites episode four? Oh get a life.

KIDNAP

If there’s one thing The Sensorites has taught Sue, it’s this: William Hartnell isn’t the only one who can make mistakes. In fact, the story has been a showcase for fluffs, stammers and technical errors, from grams not being faded down quickly enough, to the faint echo of floor manager chatter drifting over the actors’ mics. The fact the guest stars are stumbling over their lines makes Sue appreciate just how good William Hartnell can be. And he’s pretty good in this.

Sue: If I had one criticism of this story, it’s that the Sensorites all look the same to me.
Me: Racist.
Sue: It’s not my fault! I know they’re using sashes and collars to differentiate them from one another, but they keep getting promoted. There’s even a subplot about what the Doctor is wearing. The writer is obsessed with haberdashery.

Sadly, the entire plot revolves around remembering which Sensorite is which, especially when our heroes accidentally promote the bad guy. In fact, I’m sure this sailed right over Sue’s head at the time, although one detail did grab her attention.

Sue: Heart! The Doctor just said, ‘My heart’. I thought the Doctor had two hearts?
Me: Yeah, there’s no way around that. It’s been suggested the Doctor doesn’t get his second heart until he regenerates.
Sue: By that logic, the Doctor would have 11 hearts by now. His rib cage must be awfully crowded.

A DESPERATE VENTURE

Sue: Susan’s very good in this. She’s written as a real person, and not as a 12-year-old child.

My wife is impressed when I tell her Susan’s description of her home world (silver-leafed trees and a burnt orange sky) will be referenced by both Paul McGann and David Tennant later in the series. Our first cat was called Gallifrey, and we both remember welling up the first time David Tennant mentioned him by name not long after he died. But I digress, because Ian and the Doctor have stumbled upon a bunch of humans who are waging a misguided guerrilla war against the Sensorites.

Sue: I don’t believe it! They haven’t got real names, either! Everyone’s called ‘One’ or ‘Two’, or ‘First this’ and ‘Second that’. Didn’t the writer have a book of baby names he could draw upon? And why are the humans carrying giant pencils?

As the story limps to its rather lame conclusion, we are treated to a marvellous moment where the Doctor and Susan discuss a possible return to their home planet.

Sue: So is that the story arc for the entire series – the Doctor trying to find his way home?
Me: Yeah, I suppose it is.

THE SCORE

Sue: Well, that was all right. I didn’t have a problem with it, and if that’s the worst you can throw at me, we’ll be fine.

5/10

Sue: I think I liked it more than you did because it wasn’t vidfired. I liked the fact that it looked old and battered, because it hid some of its imperfections. Yeah, it was fine.

Wow. Not only did we make it through my own personal blind spot, Sue can’t wait to carry on.

Sue: Right, so where are we going next?

COMMENT: “If Sue’s watched all of The Sensorites then she can proudly boast she’s more of a PROPER FAN than I am, because I’ve never made it past the end of episode one.” – Bob Fischer

NOTES: “There’s no way around that”? Right, so if you fall over, break your leg, and scream, “My leg!” that means you must only have the one leg. This is what happens when you a) listen to your wife and b) read too much Tat Wood.

THE REIGN OF TERROR

BLOGGED: 22 February 2011

A LAND OF FEAR

I stun Sue with a confession.

Me: I’ve never seen this story before.

She spits a mouthful of hot coffee over our kitten, Tegan.

Me: It isn’t my fault! I didn’t have a VHS player when they released this story. And bits of it are missing, of course.
Sue: What do you mean, bits of it are missing?
Me: Two episodes out of six – episodes four and five to be precise – are missing from the archives. We’ll have to watch them as reconstructions, like we did with Marco Polo.
Sue: Oh good. I liked that one.

The story begins with the Doctor in a foul mood, which is a pity because Sue was just beginning to warm to him. In fact, she can’t tell if his gruff threat to put Ian and Barbara off the ship is a full-on dicky-fit or just playful banter.

Sue: I don’t think Ian and Barbara want to go home yet. Not really. I mean, what have they got to get back for? A pile of marking? An Ofsted inspection? Coronation Street?

While Ian and Barbara debate this, Sue notices Ian can’t stop glaring at Barbara’s breasts. And then, without warning, the playfulness that has been a hallmark of the episode so far is replaced by confusion, bloodshed and horror.

Sue: If this was the new series, I’d expect the revolutionaries to be the allies who helped us through the story. But in this, they’re killed in the first few minutes. I still can’t get over how bleak this show is. No one seems safe.

As if to underline her point, the cliffhanger, where the Doctor is left to burn to death, is met with unequivocal praise.

Sue: Best cliffhanger yet.

GUESTS OF MADAME GUILLOTINE

Sue: Is this a recon?

It’s the still-image of a guillotine that throws her, and when she turns to question me, she missed the moment where the blade comes crashing down. When she turns back to the screen, she’s confronted with a hand-drawn map of Paris, which only fuels her confusion. In fact, she’s disappointed when the images start to move again.

Sue: The little boy is really good. Does the Doctor come back for him? Does he become a companion?
Me: No. And isn’t the TARDIS crowded enough already?
Sue: That’s a shame. He brought out a really nice side of Hartnell.

As the Doctor begins his arduous journey to Paris, I ask Sue if she notices anything different about this episode.

Sue: Yes, we’re outside for the first time. Real location filming. It’s nice. It’s just a pity that isn’t William Hartnell – his walk is too sprightly. Still, it does give the story a more epic feel, I guess. Although I think I prefer it when they’re in the studio; it feels more honest, somehow.

When the Doctor gets embroiled in a dispute involving a chain gang, my wife is less than impressed.

Sue: You flaming idiot!
Me: Hey! He was trying to stick up for the oppressed. He was trying to be the good guy, just like you keep saying he should.
Sue: His only priority right now should be getting back to Ian, Barbara and Susan. He’s a moron for getting involved in that stupid altercation. It isn’t as if he was going to free the slaves, he was just being unnecessarily sarcastic. What a dick.

When the Doctor whacks an official over the head with a shovel, Sue is convinced he’s killed him, and she’s relieved when it turns out to be harmless cartoon violence (which doesn’t really tally with the rest of the series so far).

Meanwhile in Paris, things are looking very grim indeed. There’s yet another hint of impending sexual violence (this time it’s a prison guard who can’t keep his eyes off Barbara’s breasts) and Susan’s been reduced to a gibbering wreck. Again.

Sue: Poor Susan. She’s really bringing out Barbara’s mothering instincts. It’s a bit like Aliens, this, only it’s set in Revolutionary France.

When I suggest Susan might be hundreds of years older than Barbara, my wife asks me to provide her with some evidence, which, of course, I can’t.

Sue: That’s a great shot of Ian behind those bars. It’s very cinematic. I’m really impressed with the direction, here. It’s a massive step up from The Sensorites. Okay, let’s crack on.

A CHANGE OF IDENTITY

Sue: Is that nose a special effect?
Me: It’s difficult to say. It could be.
Sue: He must be from Bergerac. Everyone from Bergerac has a nose like that.
Me: Even John Nettles?

This time it’s Colbert’s turn to stare longingly at Barbara’s heaving bosom – “Form an orderly queue, gentlemen!” – and then we become embroiled in a debate about unwanted pregnancies and interfering with history. In short, my wife came up with a cracking proposal for a Virgin New Adventure circa 1994.

Sue: Hartnell is doing quite well in this one. He seems to be more relaxed in the real world stories. It’s as if he has a handle on what’s happening for a change.

Sue thinks Ian is acting a little differently this week, too. He’s settled into the role of action-man adventurer and Sue agrees it suits him.

Sue: I have to say, the costumes look fantastic. I’m not convinced by the Doctor’s hat, though. He looks like he’s got a dead chicken perched on his head. Look, you can see its legs dangling down the side of his neck.

The episode concludes with a close-up of the Doctor’s ring.

Sue: And that’s supposed to be scary, how?

THE TYRANT OF FRANCE - A BARGAIN OF NECESSITY

No telesnaps exist for this story, and the recons I had at my disposal were borderline unwatchable. Luckily, I found a version on YouTube which spliced the fourth and fifth episodes together very nicely indeed, so we watched that instead. Sue loves it, especially when the stills suddenly lurch into life.

Sue: What amazes me is that not only did somebody think it was worth filming a bit of Doctor Who off their telly with a Super 8 camera, but the footage actually survived and now we’re watching it on a computer screen decades later. That boggles the mind.

I remind her that people were recording the soundtrack on reel-to-reel tape recorders within weeks of the programme starting.

Sue: Now that’s scary.

We then engage in another lengthy discussion about the missing episodes, which fascinate her, and it I have to convince her that The Tenth Planet episode 4 isn’t sitting in a car boot somewhere in Redcar. She has a friend with a massive collection of old film cans and she’s already making plans to get her hands on a cine projector so she can check them all. You know, just in case. (I am not making this up).

Sue: Somebody should make a good documentary about the missing episodes.

Later that night, I’ll show her the Missing Episodes documentary on the Lost in Time DVD box set.

Sue: Like I said, somebody should make a good documentary about the missing episodes.

Sadly, as interesting as this debate is, I’m beginning to lose track of the plot. Thankfully, Sue is able boil it down for me.

Sue: It’s basically a bit of a runaround where people get locked up, then they escape, and then they get locked up again. To be honest with you, Neil, it’s a bit slow. They could have wrapped this up ages ago. I understand why it goes on so long, and how it all boils down to simple economics and they have to re-use the sets, but it doesn’t half go on.

PRISONERS OF CONCIERGERIE

Sue: I’m getting a little tired of these constant visits to the prison. It’s as if the writer doesn’t really care about the regulars – he just wants to tell his story about the French Revolution. The Doctor is doing absolutely nothing at all.
Me: It doesn’t help that my knowledge of the French Revolution is a little rusty, thanks to my shoddy education. I’m guessing that children watching this in the 1960s would have been taught this period of history at school, so it probably made a lot more sense to them.

Sue correctly guessed Napoleon would turn up long before I did. Like I said, education in the 1960s was so much better.

Sue: This isn’t children’s television. It’s a proper drama about politics and history. There’s nothing for the kids to latch onto here. There’s very little adventure or excitement and, as Barbara says, history has already been written; they don’t even think about interfering with it. In fact, Barbara just laughs it off. I don’t see where the drama is supposed to come from.

When the episode reaches its predetermined conclusion (which includes a horrific moment where Robespierre is shot in the jaw – it happens off-screen but your mind fills in the blanks), our heroes return to the TARDIS and the season concludes with a touching speech from William Hartnell as the screen is filled with stars.

Sue: I liked the bit about them finding their destiny in the stars. Does this mean they’ve given up trying to get back to 1963? Have they decided to have some fun exploring the universe? I like that idea.

THE SCORE

Sue: It looked great, and it was well acted, but it was very slow. I found it difficult to care about anyone towards the end. And if I want to see a revolution, I can turn on the news.

4/10

Me: We’ve made it through the first season of Doctor Who. Congratulations! There are ‘proper’ fans who haven’t done what we’ve just done.
Sue: How many seasons are left?
Me: 25.

Sue looks crestfallen.

Me: Don’t panic. You can practically fit the last three seasons into Hartnell’s first. They churned out episodes in the 1960s like there was no tomorrow. In fact, back in 1964, audiences only had to wait a few weeks for the second season to start.
Sue: Really? So how long do we get off?
Me: A day. That seems fair.
Sue: Would you like me to sum up the first season for you?
Me: Go ahead.
Sue: It was all over the place. They are obviously making it up as they go along, but it was interesting to see how it all began. I’m actually looking forward to seeing how things develop once they settle down a bit. Hartnell is getting better, but he’s still a pain in the arse.

COMMENT: “All well and good, guys. But if you’re going for the real fan experience, you can’t move on to season two yet. Not until you go back to ‘An Unearthly Child’, and watch all of season one again. And then again.” – Rob Shearman

NOTES: Sue watched episode five (‘A Bargain of Necessity’) again in 2013, which hopefully makes up for the fact we succumbed to another edited shortcut for the blog.

She watched the newly animated reconstruction, which you can find on the official BBC DVD, although ‘watched’ is probably stretching things a bit because she was only interested in one thing: the commentary where Philip Morris talks to Toby Hadoke about the missing episodes. And that’s because in 2013 my wife, like many of you reading this book, was obsessed with the self-styled Indiana Jones of Doctor Who. It just wasn’t for the same reason we were.

I hope to cover this – in depth – in the next volume (lawyers permitting).

SEASON TWO

WHO NEEDS PRODUCTION NOTES WHEN YOU’VE GOT AN AUTISTIC HUSBAND?

PLANET OF GIANTS

BLOGGED: 25 February 2011

PLANET OF GIANTS

Sue is fascinated by the TARDIS crew’s new costumes.

Sue: Barbara looks like a dental nurse; Ian is going for a job interview; Susan is looking forward to spending some time on a farm; and the Doctor’s got himself a shiny new cloak. It’s all go, isn’t it?

Sue identifies several parallels with The Edge of Destruction, mainly because the TARDIS appears to be on the blink again. She recalls how useless the fault locator is – “There’s something wrong with my switch!” – and she even remembers the last time the doors opened by themselves: “Does this mean they’ll turn into homicidal maniacs again?”

Sue: Did they get the idea for this story from Land of the Giants? I loved that show when I was a kid.
Me: Land of the Giants isn’t made for a few years yet.
Sue: So they nicked the idea from Doctor Who?
Me: Wait and see.
Sue: But it’s obvious. They gave it away with the title. They’ve landed on an alien planet with giants on it. Look, there’s a giant alien ant. Actually, that looks pretty good, even though it’s dead. I bet they couldn’t make it move, though.

When Ian and Susan stumble across an enormous seed packet with the words ‘Made in Norwich’ emblazoned on it, Sue cries, “A-ha!” (I can’t tell if the penny’s finally dropped or she’s trying to impersonate Alan Partridge), and then an amazing model shot reveals the truth: our heroes are trapped in crazy paving.

Sue: So it is Earth, then? That’s pretty clever. Well done.

Having said that, when the story shifts gears and we enter the real world, Sue feels a little cheated (“I’d psyched myself up for giant aliens in spandex”), while the subplot about DN6 fails to make any impression on her whatsoever.

Sue: Is that Percy Thrower?

She is, of course, referring to Frank Crawshaw’s rather unfortunate speech impediment.

Me: Maybe it’s an alien planet where people whistle while they talk?
Sue: Now you’re just confusing me.

Sadly, the cliffhanger, which is supposed to be pant-wettingly scary, doesn’t quite achieve the reaction it’s striving for.

Sue: Aw, what a cute kitty.

DANGEROUS JOURNEY

Sue: This is incredibly ambitious. I doubt they’d have the balls to try something like this today.

The crew split up, and while the Doctor and Susan are busy shimmying up a drainpipe, Ian and Barbara are carried in a briefcase to Forester’s laboratory. Sadly, curiosity gets the better of Barbara and she accidentally picks up a seed that’s been sprayed with the deadly DN6 pesticide. She tries to hide this fact from Ian in a way that reminds Sue of a zombie victim hiding a bite mark.

Sue: Ian has really gone down in my estimations. It’s obvious that Barbara has touched one of the seeds. Why else did she ask you for your bloody handkerchief, you silly fool! He should be more attentive to her needs; he is Barbara’s lover, after all.
Me: Well, that’s not strictly -
Sue: Bloody hell! That giant fly looks amazing! And it’s moving!

Barbara’s so overwhelmed by this fly, she faints. Sue is disappointed at first (“At least she didn’t scream”) but she eventually decides that Barbara is far too brave for nonsense like that, and she must have fallen over because the insecticide is slowly killing her.

When we reach the kitchen sink, it takes her a few seconds to process what she’s looking at. At first, she thought the cast were standing on a blow-up photograph.

Sue: It’s a real set!
Me: I know. Brilliant, isn’t it?
Sue: It’s incredible!

As Ian and Barbara clamber down the plug’s enormous chain, Sue remarks that Barbara’s trousers are very trendy for 1964. And then all hell breaks loose as Smithers and Forester arrive to scupper our heroes’ plans.

Me: Only Doctor Who could transform something simple like a person emptying a sink into something horrific.
Sue: It should be silly but it’s a great cliffhanger. We have to watch the next one straightaway.

CRISIS

I tell Sue the last two instalments were condensed into one because the producer, Verity Lambert, decided it was too boring and tedious for an audience to bear, and something had to be done to save it. Which means my wife spends the next 20 minutes trying to guess where the cuts were made.

Sue: I bet there was a really long scene where Ian had to read out what was on that notepad. The walk to the phone probably went on for ages as well. I think the cliffhanger probably happened after Barbara collapsed – there’s a very strange edit there. But I must say, I’m glad Verity made her decision, because this episode is paced really well compared to the others. Good on her.

Sue goes on to proclaim that three episodes is the perfect structure for a Doctor Who story. The first part sets it up, the second ups the ante and the third brings the resolution. Anything else is just padding. I can’t wait to see what she makes of The Daleks’ Master Plan.

Sue: This is the first time I’ve seen the crew actively resist the temptation to run away. Which is a little odd because running away right now would actually save Barbara’s life. Instead they decide to do the heroic thing and save the planet from eating genetically modified food. It’s bizarre, but heroic.

When the TARDIS crew try to set fire to a house, Sue can’t fault the ambition.

Sue: That was brilliant. They managed to convey that with some lights and a sound effect. Very impressive.

Brilliantly, it’s the telephone operator who saves the day, and it’s all because she doesn’t fall for Forester’s patently ridiculous ruse of sticking a handkerchief over the receiver when he disguises his voice. It’s enough to make you believe Crawshaw’s speech impediment was a plot point after all.

When our heroes return to the TARDIS – “There’s a massive chunk missing here” – and their normal size, Sue is left with a nagging sense of disbelief.

Sue: The only thing I don’t understand is why they shrank in the first place.
Me: The TARDIS is dimensionally transcendental. It makes perfect sense for the crew to shrink if everything goes tits up.
Sue: Yeah, I suppose that makes sense... A bit.

THE SCORE

Sue: I really enjoyed that one. The sets were fantastic and the plot was very inventive, like The Borrowers crossed with The Avengers. I think it’s probably the best one yet.

7/10

Sue: I like it when the story is self-contained like that. I feel like I’m watching a little play.

COMMENT: “I’m really enjoying this blog. It almost makes me want to keep up with you both. I tried and stalled after episode one.” – Michael Fuller

THE DALEK INVASION OF EARTH

BLOGGED: 1 March 2011

WORLD’S END

Large chunks of this episode are taken up with an exasperated Sue moaning about how the TARDIS crew haven’t noticed a huge, ominous sign that warns the public against throwing dead bodies into a river. It could be a lot worse. It could be a poster for Sugar Puffs.

Sue: You’d have to be blind not to notice that sign! It’s moments like this that make me despair. Ian is practically staring at the bloody thing!

It takes an anachronistic looking spaceship to shake my wife out of her mood.

Sue: That’s a pretty good special effect, for its time.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I’ve accidentally engaged the CGI replacement option on the DVD and she’s looking at a swanky, streamlined flying saucer hovering over London instead of a pie-dish dangling from a piece of string. Shit!

Sue: It reminds me of something.

Bollocks! She’s going to guess!

Sue: Are they Cybermen? Is this why you’re trying to hide the DVD from me? Is this their first story? I’ve got to say, they look a bit rubbish, lumbering around in those stupid helmets. Actually, do you know what this really reminds me of? The Survivors (sic). You know, where there’s a plague and a handful of survivors are left on Earth. It has the same vibe as that.
Me: Well, it’s funny you should say that...
Sue: I don’t know what the survivors have against the elephants, though.

Thankfully, and rather brilliantly, when a Dalek rises out of the Thames, Sue can hardly believe her eyes.

Sue: Is that a Dalek? What the hell is a Dalek doing in the river?
Me: Striking, isn’t it?
Sue: Just a bit. Would audiences in 1964 have been shocked by that cliffhanger?
Me: No. Not really. Everybody knew that the Daleks were coming back. The papers were full of them, and the BBC ran trailers with Daleks in them, too. They were massive. Here, take a look at the cover to the Radio Times for the week the episode aired. In fact, you’re probably the only person on the planet who’s seen this episode and didn’t know they were going to turn up.
Sue: Wow. I feel honoured. Am I supposed to say something startlingly original about it, then?
Me: If you like.
Sue: Well, I’m not sure if anyone has ever asked this question before, but what the hell is that Dalek doing under the water?

THE DALEKS

Sue immediately questions the Daleks’ new look – “Why have they got satellite dishes on their backs?” – and she’s chuffed to bits when the episode goes to great lengths to explain this to her.

Sue: The Doctor is very clever in the scene where he breaks out of his cell, but he ruins it completely by running straight into a bunch of Daleks. He didn’t take more than two steps before he was caught. What a complete waste of time. They should remake these stories at half the length, they’d be so much better.

One chink of light in the gloom is Tyler. Sue sees him as the Greg Preston of the group, and since we were both obsessed with this character for a while (“What would Greg do?”), my wife is suddenly engaging with the rebels.

Me: What do you think of David?
Sue: He’s a bit wet. He’s not a great actor, and he looks like David Tennant crossed with Midge Ure. Why? Am I supposed to be impressed?

Sadly, the battle against the Daleks at the heliport doesn’t fare much better.

Sue: The direction is appalling. It’s a complete mess. Whoever’s responsible for this is biting off more than they can chew.

DAY OF RECKONING

I know I shouldn’t attempt to guide Sue’s responses to these episodes, but on this occasion I just can’t help myself.

Me: This is probably my favourite moment in the Hartnell era, bar none. I just love it.
Sue: It’s all right, I suppose.
Me: All right? All right? It’s the Daleks on Westminster Bridge! What more do you want?
Sue: Less bongos would be nice.
Me: Is that all you have to say? Less bongos?!
Sue: Calm down, calm down. It’s pretty good. But what’s with the graffiti scrawled on the monuments? Are the Daleks an intergalactic Banksy or something?
Me: Surely you must be impressed by these scenes of the Daleks patrolling a deserted London. When the new series did this, they had to be content with Daleks gliding up and down the suburbs of Cardiff. They didn’t go anywhere near Nelson’s Column.
Sue: Yes, but did they use bongos?
Me: Don’t you think it’s very World War II? Look, the Daleks are giving a Nazi salute. You have to remember that a lot of the production crew, not to mention the audience, would have lived through that war. It’s been less than 20 years. The parallels are entirely intentional. It’s a classic ‘what if the Nazis won’ parable.
Sue: Steady on, love, it isn’t exactly Schindler’s List.

THE END OF TOMORROW

When ‘Hartnell’ faints, I ask Sue if she notices anything odd.

Sue: Yes, the dials on the bomb are suddenly the wrong way round.

Blimey, she’s right, you know. I’ve never noticed that before. I’ve probably been too busy spotting that William Hartnell isn’t really William Hartnell.

Sue: He’s gone on holiday again? We’re only a few weeks into the second series; couldn’t he have waited a little bit longer before flying off to Spain? And are you sure pouring acid over a bomb is a good idea? Really?

The Daleks torture some extras to death.

Sue: It certainly feels expensive. The outdoor location work and all these extras can’t have been cheap. But it’s not doing anything for me. The Robot Men are rubbish. By the time they get their guns out, you could be miles away.

It’s not all bad news. Sue adores Barbara when she mows down a Dalek with a bus, and she admits that the idea of escaped zoo animals breeding in the sewers is pretty horrific, too.

Sue: Here comes the cliffhanger. Hang on a minute, that’s a baby crocodile! That couldn’t bite your little toe off!

It isn’t even the cliffhanger. It’s as if they didn’t have the balls to go through with it, so we’re subjected to a full-on close-up of the Slyther instead.

Sue: I take it all back. Bring back the baby crocodile.

THE WAKING ALLY

Ian fights the Slyther, which Sue describes as a hoover bag with warts, to the death.

Sue: Aww, bless.
Me: What?
Sue: The poor thing sounded sad when he died. He gave a little whine.
Me: It was a mutated guard dog!
Sue: That wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. He looked fucking awful, though.

Sue is overjoyed when Larry nobbles his ankle (“So it isn’t just the women, then”), but she’s horrified when he is repeatedly shot at point-blank range by his robotised brother, Phil. Larry goes down fighting, strangling his sibling to death.

Sue: Bloody hell! That was horrible!

Light relief is provided by David waving a dead fish in front of Susan’s face. This clearly passes for foreplay in the 22nd century, because a few moments later they’re snogging each other’s faces off. Sue is amused by the Doctor’s reaction to this burgeoning romance (“Don’t stop to pick daisies!” gets a huge laugh), but she’s still reading it as a tragedy, believing that a teary-eyed David will be left behind come the end of the story, if he survives at all.

Me: I must have watched this episode half-a-dozen times and I still have no idea who or what the Waking Ally is supposed to be. Is it the Slyther? The slaves? It makes no sense. Do you have any ideas with your fresh perspective, love?
Sue: It’s obviously the Doctor, you idiot. He slept through the last episode (on a beach in Spain, probably). Do keep up.

FLASHPOINT

The episode begins with a close-up of Ian Chesterton’s crotch.

Sue: Best shot of the series so far. Lovely.

The Daleks’ plan for planet Earth doesn’t fare so well.

Sue: What the fuck? Did I hear that right? They’re going to fly the planet around after they’ve replaced the Earth’s core with an engine? But why? How would that be any better than a spaceship?
Me: I totally agree. The Daleks flying the Earth through space is a preposterous notion. It would never happen today. Ahem.

Then, suddenly, it’s all over. One minute the Daleks are the masters of India, the next thing we know, a volcano has gone off in Bedfordshire (“How did they all manage to get hundreds of miles away to safety like that?”) and everything’s fine and dandy again.

Sue: Eh? Is that it? Did Terry Nation hit his word count and just stop? Come back Derrick Spoonman, all is forgiven.
Me: Yes, it was a bit rushed.
Sue: And yet they had plenty of time to show Ian propping open a door, for, what was it – two whole minutes? It’s pathetic. Why the fuck am I watching this?

We’ve reached our first bump in the road, ladies and gentlemen. If there was ever a time when I needed Hartnell to pull out all the stops and deliver something special, this is it. Thankfully, he doesn’t let me down.

Sue: Wow. That was great.

Sadly, the episode doesn’t stop there. Instead, Susan is left to wander around in a catatonic state for what feels like an eternity.

Sue: Of all the places to leave her. What a dump! Couldn’t he have dropped them off on a nice planet somewhere? You know, somewhere with some nice infrastructure. Why stay on Earth to grow carrots? And they may not be right for each other. All they managed was a quick fumble over some trout. I just hope David is good in bed.
Me: Well, the Doctor promises to come back for her later.
Sue: Well, does he?
Me: Wait and see.
Sue: He better bloody had.

THE SCORE

Sue: This is really difficult. If it wasn’t for the last scene I’d give it 3/10, no question. The plot was rubbish. Absolute rubbish. But that last scene – damn it was good. I’m really torn over this one.
Me: And they had Daleks on Westminster Bridge, don’t forget that.
Sue: As long as the Doctor goes back for Susan, the last scene was perfect. And for that scene alone, I’ll give it:

7/10

Me: The first person who leaves the series is called Susan.
Sue: Just make sure the first person who leaves this experiment isn’t called Susan too. Now rub my feet.

COMMENT: “I’m not sure I like this trend of Sue thinking the episodes are worth 3/10 but bumping the score up to 7/10 just to humour certain husbands of hers.” – Matthew Marcus

NOTES: A couple of years before we blogged Doctor Who, we sat through another Terry Nation epic together – Survivors. We did this for three reasons: 1) We’d recently watched the BBC remake, 2) Sue couldn’t remember watching the original series back in the day, and 3) The DVDs were going cheap on eBay. Only this time we didn’t do it in public and we never reached the end; we gave up halfway through season two.

However, Greg Preston, as played by Ian McCulloch, left an indelible mark on our marriage. In my case, he was subconsciously responsible for me deciding to climb Mt Kilimanjaro for charity in 2009, and as for Sue... well, I think she fancied the pants off him, for reasons that will become clearer as the blog progresses. Let’s put it this way: Greg Preston knew his way around a hammer and saw.

We still use Greg as a barometer whenever we find ourselves faced with a difficult decision (usually involving DIY). For example: Shall we fix the washing machine ourselves or do we call a plumber – what would Greg do? And how do we deal with the water damage we’ve caused because we tried to fix it ourselves and didn’t call a plumber – what would Greg do? Etc etc.

THE RESCUE

BLOGGED: 3 March 2011

THE POWERFUL ENEMY

Things get off to a pretty good start with some excellent banter in the TARDIS. And then the Doctor accidentally asks Susan to open the doors.

Sue: Ah, bless him. I want to give the Doctor a big cuddle.

Barbara feels the same way, and when she carefully places herself in the role of surrogate granddaughter, Sue is genuinely touched.

Sue: That was really sweet. I’m glad they’re referring to it, too. I was worried that Susan would be swept under the carpet and completely forgotten.

As the TARDIS crew ponder Susan’s fate, Sue hazards her own guess.

Sue: I bet she’s having really bad sex with David, wondering, “What the hell have I done?!”

When Koquillion looms out of the shadows, Sue’s response (“Oh dear, that’s not good at all”) leads me to believe she’s correctly identified the villain of the piece, but what she’s really doing is dissing the preposterous costume. However, her sneering quickly turns to anger when the villain pushes Barbara over a cliff, although she’s back to scathing mockery again when he sets off a rock fall to trap Ian and the Doctor.

Sue: Is he using a monkey wrench? Seriously?

The Doctor calls Koquillion’s weapon a spanner.

Sue: I like it when they draw attention to the fact that everything looks stupid. It makes me feel like I’m back in the loop again.

Unfortunately, Bennett and Vicki’s predicament fails to engage Sue. In fact, she doesn’t say a word about Vicki, save for a throwaway remark about how short her dress is, and I decide not to press her on the character’s potential for the time being. Of course, when we discover that we are on the planet Dido, she has plenty to say.

Sue: Dido? Dido! Are they having a laugh?

Speaking of rubber monsters, Sandy the Sandbeast doesn’t impress her much, either.

Sue: It’s like we’re watching Raiders of the Lost Ark in slow motion on a blurry black and white television. The monster looks terrible, and the spikes look like cardboard. However, there’s some very funny banter between the Doctor and Ian, which is nice; they seem to be really close friends, now.

In short, the cliffhanger doesn’t really do it for Sue.

Sue: I suppose Ian could get a paper cut if he’s not careful.

DESPERATE MEASURES

The first few minutes pass without comment. To be honest, I can’t tell if Sue is bored or engrossed.

And then Barbara shoots Sandy the Sandbeast in the face.

At point-blank range.

Sue is conflicted by the ramifications of this. On the one hand, she is devastated by Vicki’s loss. It doesn’t matter if Sandy was a bad special effect yesterday, as soon as he gained ‘pet status’, his death was suddenly on a par with Bambi’s mother. And yet she loves Barbara to bits (she cheered when Babs pulled the trigger) and she hates to see her upset. Unusually, Barbara’s assessment of the situation was entirely wrong (if understandable). It’s a tricky scene for Sue to process.

And then she’s distracted by the sight of the Doctor breaking down the door to Bennett’s room with an iron girder, even though he’s been specifically told he can’t come in.

Sue: Bennett could be doing anything in there! What the hell does the Doctor think he’s doing? I hope the toilet doors on the TARDIS have really strong locks.

When Bennett’s insane (but strangely logical) plan is finally exposed, it takes Sue a while to fully comprehend it. Her reactions range from incredulity (“He killed everyone?”) to grudging admiration (“So it really was just a bloke in a costume after all”), before settling for bewilderment (“Who are these guys?”).

As the TARDIS crew prepare to leave, Sue finally poses the obvious question:

Sue: Why doesn’t Vicki just go with him?
Me: Are you seriously telling me that you didn’t guess that Vicki was a replacement for Susan from the beginning?
Sue: I had my suspicions, but only because her face is vaguely familiar. At first, I thought I was supposed to think she was going to replace Susan, but then they’d kill her off. So I wasn’t entirely sure, no.
Me: So how do you feel about Vicki becoming a companion?
Sue: Is that what you call them? Companions? I thought they were assistants?

We then get embroiled in a lengthy debate about what constitutes a bona fide companion (“What about Rose’s mum?”). It’s a topic we’ll return to in a few weeks’ time.

Sue: She’s a good actress and she seems nice enough. We’ll have to wait and see. I like the way the scene where the Doctor invites her to join him isn’t a million miles away from Matt Smith asking Amy to do the same. It reminds me that I’m watching the same programme.

Unfortunately, the story’s resolution raises more questions than it answers.

Sue: So there are only two Didos left on the planet, then? How will they repopulate it? It’s Adam and Adam!

She’s amused when the Doctor suggests that Dido’s people won’t let the rescue ship land, and she manages to extrapolate this throwaway line into a full-on intergalactic war (which won’t last very long given there’s only two of them and they’re armed with a spanner). However, before Sue can exhaust the possibilities of that particular scenario, the TARDIS arrives at its next destination and immediately topples over the edge of a cliff.

Sue: They never seem to get a day off.

THE SCORE

Sue: I didn’t see the twist coming, but the plot leading up to that point was practically nonexistent. Still, it could have been a lot worse – we could have spent four episodes on Dido. Dido! Can you believe it, Neil? They called the planet Dido!

When she stops laughing, Sue gives The Rescue:

3/10

COMMENT: “Not a classicist your wife? Dido? Dido and Aeneas? Founding of Rome? Rome? Er, the Romans?” – Nigel

THE ROMANS

BLOGGED: 6 March 2011

THE SLAVE TRADERS

Sue: Have we skipped an episode?

Sue can’t believe yesterday’s cliffhanger has somehow resulted in a luxurious holiday for four in Italy.

Sue: Poor Susan. She would have loved this. It’s so unfair.

There’s a wonderful moment where Hartnell pretends to forget Ian’s surname, and the perfectly executed gag makes Sue laugh out loud.

Sue: Is it supposed to be a comedy?
Me: Yes, it is.
Sue: Seriously? This is a comedy?
Me: Yes, it’s a serious comedy. Just you wait and see.

A few minutes later, Sue reiterates her preference for so-called ‘real’ stories over futuristic ones. Her reasoning is simple.

Sue: I can enjoy this a lot more because they are enjoying it too. Hartnell is having a great time, which means I don’t have to worry about him screwing it up. He’s a bit camp at times, but he’s having some fun with this one and it’s rubbing off on the others. I can relax. It looks great, too. Is it just me or does everything feel bigger and better in season two?
Me: Well, they’ve moved from Lime Grove to the larger Riverside Studios.
Sue: You can tell. This is so much better.

The Doctor and Vicki head for Rome, leaving Ian and Barbara to shag themselves senseless in the villa. Or at least that’s what I expect Sue to focus on.

Me: Go on, then. Say it.
Sue: Say what?
Me: Isn’t it obvious? Fanboys like me tend to think that Ian and Barbara have just shagged.
Sue: They’ve been at it for months, if not years, Neil. And besides, they’re pre-coital, not post-coital. You fanboys need to get out more.

Sadly, before they can get down to it, Ian and Barbara are kidnapped by some slave traders. Despite this bleak development, the witty wordplay continues to flow thick and fast (“Vicki keeps an eye on all the lyres,” gets an especially big laugh), and by the time we reach this episode’s conclusion, Sue has completely re-evaluated Dennis Spooner’s contribution to the series.

Sue: I take it all back. I like comedy, Dennis. Stick the next one on.

ALL ROADS LEAD TO ROME

The combination of comedy oompah music and brutal violence continues to play havoc with Sue’s cerebral cortex.

Sue: This is very weird. Good, but weird.

Maureen O’Brien continues to impress (“Unlike Susan, I don’t have to worry about Vicki collapsing into a fit of hysterics”), although she’s way off-beam when it comes to getting a handle on her character.

Sue: What age is she supposed to be? When she stares at William Hartnell like that, I can’t tell whether she fancies him or not. There’s a strange sexual tension when she looks at him.
Me: I know this programme is bleak and edgy, but a love triangle involving Vicki, the Doctor and Ian isn’t going to happen. Besides, there are websites out there for weird shit like that.

Ian struggles to adjust to his new life as a galley slave.

Sue: I’m sure this isn’t the sort of ‘in-out, in-out’ Ian had in mind when he woke up this morning.

And Sue is surprisingly forgiving when Ian’s ship is wrecked by a bucket of water and some ill-fitting stock footage.

Sue: That was pretty good, especially when you consider that they have no money or CGI. Who directed this one? He can come back again.

The highlight of this episode occurs as the Doctor and Vicki are finally introduced to Nero. When the Emperor calls for a footstool, and the Doctor attempts to sit on it, Sue declares it to be the best moment of the series so far.

Sue: That was brilliant. They should make every episode of Doctor Who a comedy.
Me: Just you wait until season 17.

When the credits roll after a very impressive sword fight (“That’s the best choreography yet”), Sue suggests we watch the next episode straight away, but rules are rules and we opt for Charlie Brooker on Sky Plus instead. She doesn’t laugh half as much, it has to be said.

CONSPIRACY

Once again, the threat of sexual violence hangs over Barbara like a bad smell, and Nero’s pursuit of her leaves a foul taste in Sue’s mouth (“It’s a bit too Benny Hill for me”). But what really astonishes her is the Doctor’s casual reaction to Nero’s disgraceful behaviour.

Sue: He can hear a woman screaming behind that door and yet he doesn’t even try to intervene. I’ve heard of ‘when in Rome’ but that is ridiculous. It’s a Carry On... film one minute and I, Claudius the next. And yet they’re getting away with it. I don’t know how they’re getting away with it, but they are.

When the Doctor takes to the floor to deliver his Emperor’s New Tunes routine, Sue is completely captivated by his cunning (albeit familiar) ruse, and she’s tickled pink as the Doctor confesses he gave the original idea to Hans Christian Anderson (“So he does interfere in history!”) – some interesting foreshadowing I’d never picked up on before.

Oh, and she’s developed a soft spot for Ian’s new companion, Delos.

Sue: He’s a bloody terrible actor, but he’s very sweet. Maybe he could join them as a full-time companion. I bet he’s had a really shit life. I hope Ian doesn’t kill him.

INFERNO

Sue’s comments have slowed to a trickle – a clear sign she’s enjoying the story. She’ll occasionally deliver a quick compliment – “It’s very brave of them to mix high farce with bleak drama in a children’s television slot” – but she’s too wrapped up in the drama to interject very much.

Some of the directorial choices are singled out for praise, though, including the horrific moment when a soldier is stabbed by Nero and you believe – just for a second – that Barbara was his intended victim. Sue may even have gasped at that point. Or was that me? Either way, it isn’t the first or last slap on the back for director Christopher Barry.

In fact, the only moment which concerns Sue is when Rome burns. And it isn’t the cobbled together special effect that disturbs her, either. No, it’s the Doctor secretly taking pleasure from the notion he gave Nero the idea.

Sue: There must have been fatalities in that fire – you’d think he’d be horrified at the thought of being implicated in it, if only by accident. He certainly shouldn’t be proud of it. I’m not very happy about that. And did Ian’s mate get out okay?

Thankfully, before Sue can be sidetracked by this story’s morally ambivalent message, she’s seduced by its rather whimsical conclusion. She loves how the Doctor and Vicki assume Ian and Barbara must have been sitting around on their backsides while they were out adventuring, and although this could come across as contrived and forced, Sue decides to embrace it with open arms.

Sue: It suits the tone of the story. It’s quite clever, really. Yes, I like Dennis Spooner a lot.

THE SCORE

Sue: I really enjoyed that one. I’ve got a problem with Hartnell taking the credit for burning down a city and killing hundreds, if not thousands, of people, but it’s definitely the best one so far.

8/10

This is her highest score yet. I’m ecstatic; when we began this experiment I didn’t think any black and white story would rise above a mediocre five out of 10. And I would have counted myself lucky to have got that. In fact, the only thing that could spoil my mood now would be a tedious six-parter involving giant insects and a tub of Vaseline.

COMMENT: “I’m glad Sue loved it. I think you may be sleeping on the sofa for the next six episodes though.” – BWT

NOTES: This is the first time our ‘two episodes a night’ rule is mentioned on the blog, which seems a bit weird in retrospect. Not that we’ll stick to it or anything.

THE WEB PLANET

BLOGGED: 11 March 2011

THE WEB PLANET

I’ve been dreading this. Will the Zarbi push Sue over the edge? Will this be our final end? And will Bill Strutton be named in my decree nisi?

Sue: Is the print damaged? It looks awful. Couldn’t they clean this one up?
Me: They have cleaned it up.
Sue: So why does it look like shit?
Me: Because they smeared a tub of Vaseline over the camera lens.
Sue: Vaseline? Are you joking?
Me: Fraid not. In fact, there’s a rumour that the DVD was delayed because they accidentally removed the blur when they tarted it up. But whichever way you look at it, whatever they did to the lens, they did it on purpose. It’s supposed to reflect the alien atmosphere on the planet.
Sue: Is that why the Doctor and Ian are wearing Space Anoraks? Actually, in all seriousness, it’s good thing walking around on an alien moon is shown to be a bit tricky. I like the strange echo on their voices as well – it’s very unsettling.

She’s also impressed by the pool of acid that destroys Ian’s old school tie, and she seems to be engaging with the weirdness that’s on display, despite her uncontrollable urge to squint at everything.

Sue: Argh! What is that terrible noise?

I’ll give you two guesses, folks.

Sue: It’s doing my head in! Is that a car alarm or a smoke alarm?
Me: Fans use that sound effect as a ring tone on their mobile phones. That way we can pick each other out in crowds.
Sue: Like Gaydar, only gayer?

Cue the Zarbi.

Sue: Oh. My. God.
Me: I’m guessing ‘ambitious’ isn’t the word you’re grasping for?
Sue: Dear, oh dear, oh dear. I know I’m not supposed to slag off the special effects, but come on, Neil! What were they thinking? Or taking?
Me: They’re pushing the envelope.
Sue: They’re pushing their bloody luck.

But it isn’t all bad news. The episode’s conclusion is packed with tiny moments that meet with Sue’s approval: the scene where Barbara is forced against her will to leave the safety of the TARDIS is genuinely freaky, while the Doctor discovering that his precious ship has disappeared results in a very satisfying, “Hmm...”

Sue: Well, that was pretty good. The ants were ridiculous but they weren’t in it very long. The story is quite unnerving and the climax was genuinely scary. Yeah, that wasn’t a bad start at all.

THE ZARBI

Sue: Do you know what I find really interesting about this story?
Me: I have no idea. Is it the set design? The Menoptera costumes? The sound effects?
Sue: No, it’s Vicki’s boots; they are really fashionable these days. Actually, Barbara’s trousers are really trendy, too.

Sadly, I don’t think the Zarbi will ever be in fashion – especially with those knees – and I’m pretty certain that Ian’s ‘two-in-one-anorak’ ensemble isn’t going to catch on anytime soon either (even in the circles I move in), but I have to admit, discussing Vicki’s collar is a lot more engaging than us watching a model TARDIS being dragged over a sand dune, or, as Sue describes it, “Michael Bentine’s Potty Time meets The Clangers.”

Sue: The direction is completely wrong. They should be using careful camera angles and shadows to make these things seem even half-believable, but they’re simply pointing the camera at the crowd and hoping for the best. The lack of ambient sound and music doesn’t help, either. It’s shockingly bad, like a really boring car crash.
Me: If we can get through this one, love, we can get through anything.
Sue: That’s the third time you’ve said that since we started this stupid experiment. How many episodes are left?
Me: Four. I’m sorry, love. Really, I am.
Sue: ‘Insect movement’? Insect movement!! Did I just read that right? Bloody hell, I’ve seen it all now.
Me: Yes, ‘Insect movement by Roslyn De Winter’ must be the strangest credit in broadcasting history. But how can you possibly hate an episode with a credit like that?
Sue: They should fire her.

ESCAPE TO DANGER

Sue: Roslyn is really into this, isn’t she? I bet she gives the other insects a hard time when they break out of character. I bet she thinks she’s being groundbreaking and artistic, but all she’s really doing is making everyone look 10 times sillier than they do already. And that’s no easy feat.

Sue holds Roslyn responsible for practically everything.

Sue: It’s like we’ve stumbled across an actor’s workshop where they have to express themselves and pretend to be a tree or something. I can’t believe they actually filmed and transmitted this rubbish. Oh. My. God. Did that ant really just run headlong into the camera? Did that really happen or did I just imagine it?

Any goodwill built-up during The Romans is dissipating rapidly.

Sue: Why is the Doctor using a hair dryer to communicate with the bad guy?

Sue isn’t placated when the Doctor refers to it as a hair dryer, as well.

Sue: Admitting it looks like a hairdryer just shows you how stupid it is. They may as well point out the ants are made of fibreglass, and those Dougal-Dogs with the guns on their noses are being pulled along on string.

When Vicki returns from the TARDIS with one of the Doctor’s ‘samples’ (aka a dead spider in a box) my wife blames the Vaseline for misreading the next scene entirely.

Sue: The Zarbi are frightened of the Doctor’s poo!

CRATER OF NEEDLES

Sue: Rewind that bit. Go back. I need to hear that again.

Somebody is laughing off-screen. We think it’s Jacqueline Hill.

Sue: If that didn’t call for a retake, all bets are off. What the fuck? Enough is enough, Neil. Seriously. I feel embarrassed just watching this. It must have been awful for the people who actually took part in it.
Me: There’s a really famous actor hidden under the Menoptera costume on the left. He was a household name in the 1970s and ‘80s. Can you guess who it is, just from his voice?
Sue: Derek Jacobi? John Hurt? Gyles Brandreth?

She’s still trying as the credits roll by.

Sue: Martin Jarvis? That name rings a bell. What’s he been in? Oh, you’ve found a picture of him on the internet. Oh, him! Wow. Martin Jarvis, eh? The poor sod.

When a Menoptera picks up a larvae gun and squashes it against a wall, it’s difficult not to be affected by this bizarre, horrific and just plain wrong moment. But that’s nothing compared to the scene where the Menoptera swoop down on Kirby wires for a shambolic battle against the Zarbi.

Sue: This is just silly. Yes, it’s ambitious. Yes, they are trying their best. But it looks amateurish. What was Verity thinking? What was anybody thinking?

And then Sue asks the age-old question that’s troubled Doctor Who fans for decades.

Sue: Why couldn’t they have lost this story instead of the one with Marco Polo in it?

INVASION

Me: We don’t have to go on with this, you know.
Sue: Are you saying we should give up?
Me: No, we just cheat a little and skip to the last episode. I can just replace the text for episode five with something like this:
Sue: Arrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhh! Please! Make it stop! Please! Argggghhhhhhh!!!!!!! Noooooo!!!!! Roslyn De Winter! Arggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Help!!! Nooooooooo!!!!
Me: I could string that out for a paragraph or two and Bob’s your uncle. No one need ever know.
Sue: I would know. We’d be cheating ourselves. If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. We have to watch the next one.

So we watched episode five. And it was fucking rubbish.

However, it was worth it to witness Sue’s reaction to an Optera bravely sacrificing herself by sticking her head in a hole in the wall. As her derriere is suspended in mid-air, we’re supposed to mourn her heroic passing, but the only tears being shed by Sue are the result of uncontrollable laughter.

THE CENTRE

Me: I know, let’s treat ourselves! We can look at the next episode in Spanish!
Sue: You never know, it might make more sense. But won’t Rob Shearman accuse us of not really watching them properly if we do that? We won’t have to go back and watch it again, will we?
Me: If anyone complains, we’ll give them their money back.

We switch on the English subtitles and settle down for some Andalusian Animus action.

Sue: I love the way they’re doing their best to copy the voices of the original actors. Even the Spanish Menoptera sound thick. Vicki sounds like a Mexican bandit, though.

Brilliantly, whenever the English subtitles say ‘BEEPING NOISE’ the Spaniards decide NOT TO BOTHER! In fact, given that they didn’t have to use the ambient sound recorded in the studio, the audio is a lot easier to deal with: the Zarbi are lower down in the mix, and you can’t hear the larvae guns as they’re pulled across the floor any more. Amazingly, it’s a lot easier to watch. And then, when the Menoptera taunt the Zarbi, the episode starts to resemble a bullfight, and suddenly everything almost – almost – makes sense.

Me: The bad guy looks like Itsy or Bitsy from Paperplay. Yeah, it’s definitely Bitsy.

The story’s conclusion baffles Sue. It doesn’t matter what language we’re watching it in, she can’t tell what’s going on when Barbara defeats the Animus, or what Ian’s role in this victory is (assuming he has one at all), and when the TARDIS finally leaves Vortis behind, she actually cheered. But then we have to endure another five minutes of liberated rebels chatting among themselves.

Sue: JUST STOP!

THE SCORE

1/10

Sue: I would have given it a zero if it wasn’t for the Spanish episode.
Me: But you really liked the first episode.
Sue: Screw that. That was months ago.

COMMENT: “Sue and Neil – watching The Web Planet so we don’t have to.” – James Griffin

NOTES: The throwaway line about refunds was made because the blog was (and still is) free. However, because you have purchased this book, you are now entitled to a 17p refund. To claim your refund, please send an email to the usual address with ‘I AM A TIGHT-ARSE’ in the subject line.

Unless you include a minor wobble during The Dalek Invasion of Earth, this was one of those rare moments when I had to talk Sue into carrying on with the experiment. And yes, I used the blog as leverage. “Think of poor James Griffin,” I said. “How are you going to explain this to him?” I still feel bad about this.

THE CRUSADE

BLOGGED: 17 March 2011

THE LION

We had to watch this episode twice.

I’d love to tell you Sue adored it so much we decided to wallow in its glorious splendour again, but the sad truth is we had to re-watch it for an array of complicated reasons which I will bore you with now.

First of all, our mutual friend, Simon ‘Rula’ Harries, came to stay for the weekend, and late on Friday night I temporarily took leave of my senses and suggested he join us for the first episode of The Crusade. You know how it is, you have a drink or three and before you know it you’re inviting friends to do weird things with your wife.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but as I slotted Lost in Time into the DVD player, Sue confessed she was suffering from performance anxiety. I felt uncomfortable, too. It didn’t seem right having Simon watching her like that, especially since she felt self-conscious in the presence of his encyclopedic knowledge of 1960s Doctor Who trivia. In short, her heart wasn’t in it.

The next evening, John Williams visited us, and he warned Sue radicalised fans might be upset with her observations on the Zarbi, and how she should be very careful when opening doors to strangers for the rest of her life. I tried to convince her John was (mainly) joking, but the upshot is she retired to bed that night without her daily Hartnell fix. I’m sure I detected some regret, but my offer of a David Whitaker novelisation was rejected out of hand.

The following day I was too ill to watch an episode and Sue worked late the day after that, so by the time Tuesday rolled around we hadn’t watched Doctor Who together for THREE WHOLE DAYS.

This felt very odd indeed.

Sue: I haven’t got a clue what happened in the last one, it’s been so long. Something about Richard the Lionheart and Barbara almost getting raped again, I think.
Me: Don’t look at me. If I don’t write it down within a few hours, I can’t remember a damn thing. And it’s been several days since we last, you know, erm, since we, er...
Sue: Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen. We should watch it again. Alone.

And that’s exactly what we did, and after the surrealistic thrills of The Web Planet it was a blessed relief to find ourselves back on terra firma again.

Me: Real people. Real locations. Real dialogue. Bliss!
Sue: Ian looks completely knackered. He used to step out of the TARDIS brimming with wonder and excitement, but now he seems like he’s resigned to getting beaten up as soon as the episode starts. Poor Ian.

She’s almost right, but it’s actually Barbara’s turn to be assaulted this week – by Saracens no less.

Sue: The direction is excellent. Who is it?
Me: Douglas Camfield.
Sue: He’s definitely one to watch.

When Richard the Lionheart turns up, Sue is immediately drawn to his magnetic screen presence.

Sue: He’s very good.
Me: Don’t you recognise him? It’s Julian Glover.

I have to remind myself Sue isn’t the sort of person who remembers the names of actors. Some of my friends can spot Tutte Lemkow at a thousand paces before reeling off his CV, but Sue has difficulties remembering who Adam Woodyatt is, even though he plays a character she’s been watching regularly on television for 25 years, so Julian Glover never stood a chance. You’ll get used to this. In fact, I confidently predict she still won’t know who Julian is if we reach Paris in 1979.

Sue: What’s he been in again?

There isn’t a single recognisable vehicle in which to seat Mr Glover, so I reel off his supporting roles in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, For Your Eyes Only and The Empire Strikes Back.

Sue: And you wonder why I don’t know who he is? He does have a lovely voice, though, even if he is playing a complete bastard.

When we enter Saladin’s court, Sue fails to recognise Bernard Kay, an actor she was admiring only a few weeks ago. Which brings us nicely to a problem that will continue to raise its head throughout this story.

Sue: You couldn’t get away with blacking-up like that today.
Me: Not unless you’re David Walliams.

THE KNIGHT OF JAFFA

This is Sue’s first full-length recon. Up to now, we’ve watched condensed edits, but this is the real deal, with John Cura telesnaps and everything.

Sue: Ian would do anything for Barbara. He’d happily fall on his sword for her if he had to. I can’t imagine them ever being apart.

When Ian is knighted, the Doctor suggests he’d like to be honoured the same way someday.

Sue: Didn’t the Doctor get knighted in a David Tennant episode?
Me: He did. The one with Queen Victoria fighting werewolves in Scotland.
Sue: I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad for spotting that reference.

And then she confesses that she hasn’t got a clue what’s going on.

Sue: I can’t fault this – the acting, the script, the sets – it’s very good. But it’s also very complicated. I’m finding it hard to keep up, to be honest. I can’t imagine kids being enthralled by this in 1965. It’s a serious play for adults. I like it but there’s something missing.

Part of the problem is Sue spends the entire episode playing her favourite game of ‘lookalikes’ – the telesnaps feature long static shots of the actor’s faces and she can’t help herself. So far, she’s spotted Bruce Forsyth, the opera singer from the Go Compare adverts, and one of the maids from Upstairs, Downstairs.

Me: That’s Jean Marsh.
Sue: What’s she been in again?
Me: Well, Upstairs, Downstairs for a start. We’ll be seeing a lot more of her as the series goes on. Oh, and she eventually marries a Doctor in real life. Do you want to guess?
Sue: I have no idea. Colin Baker?

When we are left to dwell on still image of Marsh and Glover, in what can only be described as a romantic embrace, I have to remind Sue that Joanna is Richard’s sister.

Sue: I don’t think I’ve ever seen incest portrayed in a children’s television programme before. Not even in Grange Hill.

THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE

Episode three gets off to a flying start.

Sue: That’s the best scene in Doctor Who so far. It’s three men shouting at each other in a room, but the dialogue and the direction take it to another level. The script is amazing. I haven’t got a clue what’s going on but they make it sound brilliant. And is it just me or is William Hartnell raising his game? He’s surrounded by fantastic actors giving it their all, and I think it’s rubbing off on him. He’s never been better.

When Richard and Joanna have a blazing row, Sue is rattled by its intensity.

Sue: Part of me wishes this didn’t have anything to do with Doctor Who. I always feel slightly disappointed when we cut away from these characters to William Hartnell. I’m much more interested in Richard’s predicament than the Doctor faffing about. I mean, what is the Doctor doing, anyway?

Barbara is having a torrid time. Things are so bad, she even contemplates suicide, and when she’s brought to El Akir, his intentions are disturbingly clear.

Sue: As far as I can tell, every story has a subplot where Barbara has to endure the threat of imminent rape and torture. It isn’t fair.

THE WARLORDS

Sue: I’ve changed my mind about the recons.
Me: Already? But this is one of the better recons. We’ve even got the remastered audio.
Sue: It’s fine. I actually prefer the recons when it’s just people standing around talking, but when there’s an action scene I really want to see it. I’m also finding some of the dialogue difficult to understand when I can’t see their lips move.

Practically everything Tutte Lemkow says sails straight over Sue’s head.

Sue: I keep forgetting where and when we’re supposed to be. Some of the actors are putting on funny voices, while others aren’t. Some actors are blacked up, while others from ethnic minorities are playing entirely different ethic minorities. Some are playing it straight, others are going for caricature. I can’t keep up.

But the strangest thing about The Crusade is the way it suddenly runs out of steam and stops. The Doctor isn’t allowed to have a significant impact on historical events – these strict rules were laid down during The Aztecs – and so a story about grand political schemes is suddenly reduced to a convoluted race back to the TARDIS. The change of gears is so pronounced, Sue is convinced she must have missed something important.

Sue: Is that really it? They’re just leaving? That’s vaguely disappointing.

THE SCORE

Sue: Well, that was very good. I found it difficult to keep up with the plot (which went nowhere) and I have an issue with the Doctor’s lack of involvement (again), but it was very well made and it didn’t outstay its welcome. I’ll give it:

7/10

COMMENT: “Quite frankly, I felt out of place.” – Simon Harries

NOTES: From this point on, we vowed never to watch old episodes of Doctor Who with people who are experts on Tutte Lemkow (and by expert, I mean they’ve heard of him). Even the editor of my Faber & Faber book was banished to his bedroom when we watched Delta and the Bannermen. Or maybe he banished himself? I forget.

THE SPACE MUSEUM

BLOGGED: 23 March 2011

THE SPACE MUSEUM

As I slip the DVD into our PS3, I sigh. Loudly.

Sue: That doesn’t sound very promising.
Me: Sorry. Ignore me. I don’t want to prejudice you in any way.
Sue: You already have. Give it to me straight: how long and how bad?
Me: It’s short. Four parts. The first part is pretty good, actually. As for the other three episodes, well, it’s incredibly tedious. And that’s hardly a spoiler. You’d have to be clinically insane to make a case for this story. I wouldn’t care but I only watched it recently; if I knew we were going to embark on this mad experiment, I would have waited. The thought of putting myself through it again...

I shudder. And then I ask to Sue to imagine watching The Sensorites again – right now – and she nods sympathetically.

Me: Perhaps you could watch this one on your own. You could make notes. I don’t have to be here for all of them, do I?
Sue: That’s not the deal! The blog is called Adventures with the Wife in Space not Adventures With the Wife in Space, Except When I Can’t Be Bothered. Come on, Neil.

As I hit ‘play’, I let out an even bigger sigh. There was a time when I would have regarded this as dream come true. Here I am, sitting next to my wife, watching classic Doctor Who. Yeah, just think about that for a moment. And she’s really watching it. She isn’t merely glancing up to tut or pour scorn on it. No, she’s doing her level best to engage with the programme, and I’m the one who’s finding excuses not to watch it.

There are stories, whole eras even, that I can’t wait to show her (Sea Devils! Scorby! Paris 1979! The Kandyman!), but these Hartnells are driving me nuts. And we haven’t even got to the difficult ‘holes’ yet.

Having said that, the opening episode bamboozles Sue nicely. There’s a great moment where she describes the Morok guards as having even worse peripheral vision than the Daleks, and then she has to take it all back when it turns out that our heroes are actually invisible.

The Dalek exhibit shocked her, too, although she wasn’t surprised that Vicki didn’t know what they looked like, despite them invading her home planet and everything, because as teachers ourselves, we’ve encountered plenty of students who have never heard of Hitler; it’s not impossible, just tremendously sad.

Sue: I still can’t get over how you can go from a story that looks sumptuous and realistic one week to something that looks cheap and tacky the next. At least I know there’s always a good one just around the corner.
Me: Yeah, it’d be a nightmare if they stopped doing the historicals.

The cliffhanger manages to sneak up on her as effectively as it does our heroes.

Sue: Oh, I like that. That’s really clever. I don’t understand why you’re complaining so much.

THE DIMENSIONS OF TIME

Me: The good news is this isn’t the worst story to include the words ‘Dimensions’ and ‘Time’ in its title.
Sue: Is it really a good idea to have a character bored out of his skull as the bad guy? Is it trying to be funny, or is it just stupid?

Sue is appalled when the Doctor seeks refuge in a Dalek.

Sue: That is ridiculous!
Me: How is it more ridiculous than Ian clambering into a Dalek in the second story? Remember that?
Sue: Yes, but in that instance they scooped a slimy thing out of it first.
Me: It’s a museum exhibit! I’m sure they didn’t leave a Kaled mutant in there to rot! The smell would have been unbearable. Although it would explain why the museum’s attendance is so low.
Sue: But this Dalek has foam rubber inside it, it was clearly designed to have someone sit in it. It cheapens the Daleks if you ask me.
Me: Well, a) you ain’t seen nothing yet and b) maybe it’s a replica that’s been built by a fan of marauding alien monsters, and now it’s in a museum.
Sue: Sorry, I’m picking holes, aren’t I?
Me: Don’t worry about it. We’re simply mirroring what’s happening on-screen – our heroes are standing around bickering with each other to cover up the fact that ABSOLUTELY NOTHING IS HAPPENING!
Sue: At least they’re cutting up Barbara’s horrible cardigan. Good. It made her look like a stern midwife.

Barbara thinks all the corridors look the same and Sue nods her head sagely, choosing to regard it as a clever in-joke.

Unsurprisingly, the Moroks don’t impress her very much (“It’s a badger crossed with Londo from Babylon 5”), but it’s the rebel Xerons who really test her patience.

Sue: What’s the deal with the eyebrows?
Me: They’re aliens.
Sue: Fuck off!
Me: They are! One week you’re complaining the characters look too alien, and now you’re complaining that they don’t look alien enough. This programme can’t win.
Sue: Yes, but eyebrows? Is that really the best they could come up with? At least Star Trek added some funny ears.
Me: What can I say? They blew their budget on the Zarbi.
Sue: The lead rebel looks familiar.
Me: He should – it’s Jeremy Bulloch.
Sue: Is that supposed to mean something to me?
Me: If you can guess which iconic role he’s best known for, I’ll watch Ally McBeal with you from the very beginning. I’ll even start a blog called Adventures with the Wife in a Mixed-Sex Toilet. Although, on second thought, that would probably get us both sacked. Anyway, go ahead, have a guess.

I’ll spare you the rest, because I’m sure you know the drill by now, although I will reserve a special mention for ‘John Boy from The Waltons’.

She’s seriously unimpressed when I reveal the truth to her, and she’s practically punching me in the face when I tell her that they overdubbed Bulloch’s voice in the films, as well (twice!). But at least it relieved the monotony for a bit.

And then – completely out of the blue – we get an eyeful of William Hartnell in an Edwardian swimsuit. I still can’t believe I just typed that.

Sue: Whoah! What the fuck was THAT? Forget the Daleks, THAT’S the scariest thing in Doctor Who so far. No contest. Good grief.

THE SEARCH

Sue: I can’t tell who’s worse – is it the bad guys or the rebels? There’s only one way to find out – FIGHT! Or in the rebels’ case – RUN AROUND A BIT!

There then follows a bizarre scene where a Morok guard does everything in his power to hide his face from the camera. His whimpering voice is exceptionally odd, and when he ends up fighting with Ian, you still can’t see his face properly.

Sue: He isn’t an actor! No wonder he doesn’t want to show his face – he’s too ashamed! No, hang on, I’m sure the actor changed when the camera cut and they went through those doors. I think they had to replace him at the last-minute and they tried to cover it up. Badly.

Bloody hell, is she right? I honestly don’t know whether she’s channelling Andrew Pixley or she’s just gone mad, seeing patterns in things that aren’t really there. Answers on a postcard, please.

Sue: I’m really warming to Vicki. She’s a massive improvement on Susan. She’s articulating the same emotions I feel as I watch this. She’s criticising the rebels for being ineffectual idiots for a start. You know, I’m sure they’re taking the piss.

THE FINAL PHASE

Stuart Ian Burns suggests via Twitter that we turn this episode’s production notes on for some light relief.

Sue: Production notes? What the hell are production notes when they’re at home?
Me: They’re basically subtitles for geeks. They provide fascinating background information on the episode you’re watching. And if you’re really lucky, they’ll make you laugh, as well.

She quickly becomes engrossed in the notes. I know this for a fact because she’s stopped sighing.

Sue: This is brilliant – everything makes sense now. I always thought it was just Hartnell who took liberties with the script, but everybody is at it! The only problem is, I can’t read these and follow the episode at the same time. Perhaps we should watch them twice – once with the subtitles off and once with the subtitles on.

She isn’t joking.

Sue: Do they have notes like this for every DVD, or is this an exception to relieve the boredom of The Space Museum? You know, like the Spanish Zarbi?
Me: Every DVD has them, I believe. Some of them are excellent. But we can’t watch them all the time – it’s too distracting – we’ll save them for tedious six-parters when we hit episode five and nothing much is happening. Deal?
Sue: Bloody hell – the vision mixer on this story helped Sylvester McCoy become the Doctor! This is insane!

Still. Not. Joking.

Sue: They made a feature film with Peter Cushing!?
Me: Damn, that was supposed to be a surprise.
Sue: We should have done this ages ago. I bet it explained what was going on with that guard who wouldn’t show his face earlier.

She’s too engrossed in the notes to let me to switch them off. And who can blame her when the ‘revolution’ happening on screen is so cack-handed it practically begs the viewer to ignore it. This will turn out to be a mistake.

Sue: Ooh! Daleks next week!

See?

THE SCORE

Sue: Well, that didn’t work. The opening episode was excellent, and the idea behind it was very clever, but they didn’t do anything interesting with it. And it was really, really slow. I bet it would be fantastic if they remade it now, though.

3/10

Just for a laugh, I persuaded Sue to watch Defending the Museum, the notorious DVD extra where Robert Shearman tries to convince everyone this story is a work of postmodern genius. When it was over, Sue turned to me and sighed.

Sue: I’ll have to mark it up.
Me: WHAT?
Sue: Rob’s right. It’s just as I suspected – remember how I picked up on the comment that all the corridors looked the same? They were taking the piss! It was ahead of its time and I was laughing at it for the right reasons instead of the wrong reasons.

6/10

Sue: So the Daleks are back and they’ve been redesigned, eh? I can’t wait.

Oh boy.

COMMENT: “Sue is now my favourite person ever. Fact!” – Rob Shearman

NOTES: Boba Fett. But you knew that already.

There was a heated debate about spoilers when we blogged this episode. Some of our readers were unimpressed with my decision to turn on the production notes without checking them first (if they thought I was going to watch The Space Museum three times then they had another thing coming). But worse than that, I told Sue that this story was irredeemable crap before we’d even sat down to watch it, and that, with the benefit of hindsight, was a mistake I endeavoured never to repeat (with varying degrees of success).

Not that it made any difference to her score. After all, why would she take any notice of me when she’s got Rob Shearman pretending to like something on a DVD extra.

THE CHASE

BLOGGED: 26 March 2011

THE EXECUTIONERS

The Chase begins with a lengthy TARDIS scene, which warms the cockles of Sue’s heart.

Sue: I like this a lot. Everyone’s chilling out. It’s a relaxing Sunday afternoon on the TARDIS, and the kid is moaning to the grown-ups because she’s bored.

The gag about Ian’s book of monsters being too far-fetched goes down well, and, some wobbly camera work aside (“Did they install speed bumps in the studio?”), Sue laps up the witty repartee.

Sue: Are you sure this is a Terry Nation script? Isn’t it too funny and too clever to be him? Oh, I like Vicki’s trousers. I’ll be wearing a pair like that this summer.

The Space Time Visualiser reminds Sue of a Stargate (even though she’s never seen a single episode), and when Barbara describes it as a time-travelling television, she declares, “It’s a Tachyon TV!”

Sue: The Beatles? In Doctor Who? I didn’t see that coming.
Me: Yeah, the closest you’d get today would be Athlete.
Sue: I’m surprised they didn’t sue for breach of copyright.
Me: The Beatles wanted to be in it. The original plan was to have them performing at their 50th anniversary concert in old-age make-up, but they were too busy making Help! so they used this footage instead.
Sue: It’s probably for the best. How would the fans square that version of events with the fact that two of them are dead? Oh dear! Ian is doing some of the worst dad-dancing I’ve ever seen, bless him. And why is he still in his pyjamas?

When the fun and frolics are over (“I could have watched that all day”), the TARDIS arrives on Aridius, a desolate, sandy planet orbiting two blazing suns.

Sue: It’s just like Tattooinnie (sic). George Lucas is a thieving bastard, isn’t he? It’s obvious that Ian is C-3PO and Vicki is R2-D2. What a cheek.
Me: That isn’t Vicki running up that sand dune, by the way. It’s the actress who played the earwig who committed suicide in The Web Planet.
Sue: Who needs production notes when you’ve got an autistic husband?

When a Dalek emerges from a sand dune, it takes Sue a while to process what she’s looking at – even though a handful of Daleks have already appeared in this episode, including one with learning difficulties (“Is that a cock-up or a joke?”).

Sue: There’s no sense of scale. It could be a thimble or a tower block. I haven’t got a clue... Oh, it’s a Dalek. A Dalek with a nasty cough.
Me: They’re trying to top the underwater Dalek from The Dalek Invasion of Earth.
Sue: So what’s next? A Dalek emerging from a lake of manure? However, naff special effects aside, that was another strong opening episode. All the opening episodes have been pretty good, haven’t they? If only they could keep it up. Anyway, if I was marking that episode on its own, I’d probably give it eight out of 10.

THE DEATH OF TIME

Me: It’s time to play that age-old parlour game ‘Spot the Famous Aridian’. The rules are very simple, all you have to do is -
Sue: It’s Shelley!

Bloody hell, that was quick! Although, to be fair, I’ve been re-watching the classic 1980s sitcom which depicts an insane Tory government, spiralling unemployment and economic decline recently – you know, just to escape from reality for a bit – and Sue is over the moon when she recognises Hywell Bennet in a bathing cap.

Sue: Bless him, he’s really going for it, isn’t he? I can imagine Shelley and Martin Jarvis swapping horror stories in a 1960s pub outside the BBC.

Sue is confounded by the Daleks’ newfound ability to travel in time and space.

Sue: So the Daleks have a time machine?
Me: Yes.
Sue: How did they manage that?
Me: I don’t know! They built one, I guess.
Sue: I thought only the Doctor was allowed to travel in time? I mean, what’s to stop the Daleks going back to that botched invasion of Earth and getting it right this time?
Me: It’s a bloody good question, and one that will be obliquely addressed in about 22 years’ time (or seven if you don’t forget Day of the Daleks, which I did).

On a positive note, Sue is still impressed with Vicki. She’s especially pleased she never seems to scream (the closest she gets is a nervous giggle in episode one), and when a giant tentacle wraps itself around her throat, she doesn’t even raise her voice.

Sue: Vicki is great. She’s just as feisty as Rose and she doesn’t take any shit from anyone.

When the Daleks force the Aridians to collaborate with them on pain of death, Sue is genuinely concerned about their safety. She certainly doesn’t trust the Doctor to help the poor sods defeat their oppressors if push ever came to shove.

Sue: I love how the Aridians are unearthing the TARDIS one grain of sand at a time, and the Daleks don’t even attempt to shoot it until every last particle has been removed from the lip of the door. Such perfectionists.

Thankfully, the Daleks don’t have time to commit genocide and the Aridians are let off on a technicality. This doesn’t placate Sue, though.

Sue: Look at them, celebrating in the TARDIS without a care in the world. No one’s stopped to consider the fact an entire race is going to be wiped out because they’ve escaped from that planet. It isn’t morally right. Would Matt Smith have left the Aridians to die like that? I think not.
Me: The Aridians were a bunch of spineless collaborators who deserved everything they got. If they’d stood up to the Daleks, the Doctor would have helped them.
Sue: Bullshit. He’s a cunt. Now stick the next one on.
Me: We can’t.
Sue: Okay, so it’s a recon. I don’t care.
Me: No, it’s the rules. We said we’d never watch more than two episodes a night.
Sue: Sod that. Look, this isn’t too bad. We should keep watching the stories we’re enjoying.
Me: Speak for yourself!
Sue: And we should spread out the stories that feel like torture.

She makes a good point (and The Chase is nowhere near as bad as I remember it), so we plough on.

FLIGHT THROUGH ETERNITY

Me: It’s time to spot the famous actor/presenter who’s doing their first bit of telly!
Sue: Is it Al Pacino?
Me: No, it isn’t the guy doing the ‘let’s have some cawfee and tawlk’ New York accent who just made a joke about a lady’s bosom on a children’s television show.
Sue: Is it the wife from Till Death Do Us Part?
Me: No, it isn’t the woman who looks like Dandy Nichols.
Sue: Is it the guy in the Stetson?
Me: Yes.
Sue: Hmmmm. Wait! I’ve got it! It’s Blue Peter!
Me: Spot on. So who is it?
Sue: It’s Noakes!
Me: You are so close, it’s ridiculous. Come on, you can do it.
Sue: Peter somebody.
Me: That’s it. Come on, think ‘children on motorbikes’ and ‘pure breed dogs’.
Sue: Peter Nolan? Norris? Morris? Peter Purves!

Phew.

Sue: He’s not really an actor, though, is he? You can see why he ended up presenting children’s television, an acting career was never going to pan out for him after this performance. Still, Terry Nation should shoulder some of the blame. I mean, what else can you do with material like that? You’d have to send it up just to get through it.

The Daleks pursue the Doctor through the time vortex.

Sue: Do you know what this reminds me of? That Battlestar Galactica episode where the Cylons keep coming after the humans every few minutes, and everyone ends up pissed off or depressed.
Me: I’m pretty sure you’re the first person who’s ever compared The Chase to the award-winning Battlestar Galactica episode, ‘33’. And definitely the last.
Sue: Why don’t they stay put in the TARDIS? They’re supposedly in a life-or-death chase and yet they keep stopping to admire the scenery, which is bad enough in itself, but every single time they do this, they always find themselves in avoidable danger. It makes no sense to me. Just sit tight and lock the impregnable door! Oh look, Barbara has been caught by a sailor... Oh, and here’s the threat of some sexual violence; it’s been days since we’ve had some of that.

Luckily, Vicki saves the say (we both love Vicki) and everyone legs it back to the TARDIS, leaving the occupants of a sailing ship to deal with the marauding alien monsters who are due to arrive any minute now. Our so-called heroes don’t even leave them a note.

Sue: Wow, this is weird. A few minutes ago, someone clapped eyes on a Dalek for the first time and they laughed themselves silly, but now the standard reaction to seeing one for the first time is to commit suicide. It’s a bit inconsistent, this.
Me: Oh look, a baby death in Doctor Who. That’s nice.
Sue: The Daleks haven’t even shot anyone yet. Don’t you think they would at least try to find out what they actually are before they throw themselves to their deaths? The Daleks are on a very strict timetable, so if the sailors hang back a bit they’ll sod off in a minute. And why has the captain taken his jacket off? Is he going to jump in and save somebody? How the fuck does he intend on doing that? This sequence does look expensive, though. It would be impressive if it wasn’t so silly. Oh look, a Dalek has fallen overboard for no apparent reason. And its top has fallen off, too. It must have been the one with learning difficulties.

It isn’t.

Me: By the way, have you guessed where we are yet?
Sue: I don’t have to guess – there’s a sign on the ship. It’s the Mary Celeste.

She’s right, of course. If only Richard Martin had noticed this (although, to be fair, we are watching this on a 50-inch television screen) because the way he reveals the mystery to us is so drawn out, it beggars belief.

Sue: Classic Richard Martin.

JOURNEY INTO TERROR

The action shifts to a haunted house. I hate this episode with a passion that borders on the psychotic, but I don’t let on to Sue. I’ll let her discover its awfulness for herself.

Sue: Vicki and Barbara are suddenly being written as damsels in distress.
Me: There’s no consistency from one episode to the next. Although to be fair, Ian is cacking himself as well.

When Frankenstein’s monster makes an unexpected appearance, Sue doesn’t even bat an eyelid. She’s perfectly happy for fictional characters to turn up in the show, and has no problem accepting the Doctor’s insane theory about the monsters inhabiting the realm of pure human thought.

Sue: Okay, let me get this straight: Frankenstein -
Me: Frankenstein’s monster.
Sue: Frankenstein’s monster, Dracula and a ghost are living together in a house, yeah? This is basically Being Human 40 years early.

Dracula is actually a robot.

Sue: Okay, so it’s Being Human meets Westworld. Fair enough. Maybe this is another weird museum? Perhaps it’s a theme.

She’s furious when the TARDIS crew leave the scene without Vicki, and I have some fun pretending it’s the last time we’ll ever see her alive. She almost fell for it, too.

When the episode reveals the location for this ‘adventure’ was actually a psychopathic fun fair – the sort frequented by Scooby Doo, we assume – Sue is more than happy to go along with it.

Sue: Yeah, I thought as much. That makes sense.
Me: Doesn’t it strike you as odd?
Sue: Not really.
Me: What has Peking got to do with it? Why did they cancel an exhibit in Ghana? Why are there robots still walking around?
Sue: That’s easy. The robots killed a tourist and no one could find the off-switch, so China, who must be the world’s police – a bit like America is now – ordered an evacuation. Simple.

She didn’t really say that. What she really said was, “Who gives a shit?”

Anyway, when the Daleks announce their next location is Mechanus, Sue is thrilled to bits.

Sue: First New York and now Mykonos. This is like a travelogue!

THE DEATH OF DOCTOR WHO

This episode makes Sue very angry indeed. The fungoids are bad enough (“Do me a favour!”) but that’s nothing compared to Edmund Warwick’s turn as the Doctor’s doppelgänger.

Sue: He doesn’t look anything like him! Why don’t they shoot William Hartnell in the close-ups? Why are they showing us somebody who clearly isn’t him? Why aren’t they shooting this guy from behind and shooting William Hartnell from the front? It’s madness! Utter madness!
Me: Perhaps it wasn’t possible to have Hartnell in two places at the same time due to the nature of the -
Sue: Then they shouldn’t have bothered with this plot! He looks nothing like him! It’s laziness or incompetence – take your pick. And now they’ve swapped the actors round! It’s as if Richard Martin’s just realised this is what he should have been doing in the first place. It’s pathetic.

And then the Mechanoids arrive.

Sue: Oh no.
Me: I know what you mean.
Sue: No, it just said, ‘Oh no’.
Me: No it didn’t, it said, ‘Follow’, but don’t worry about it – nobody understands the Mechanoids. It’s one of their least annoying traits.

THE PLANET OF DECISION

Me: It’s time to play ‘Guess the Blue Peter Presenter’ again.

Sue knows it’s Peter Purves, but her brain won’t let her say this out loud because that would be silly.

Sue: He looks like George Michael in his Faith phase.

Even when I confirm her suspicions, she still can’t get her head around it.

Sue: Is he playing a descendant of the idiot on the Empire State Building? Is this an important plot point about time travel?
Me: No, they thought Peter Purves was a good actor so they asked him back.
Sue: WHAT?
Me: Give him a chance.
Sue: Actually, he’s a lot better here, bordering on the very good. I take it he’s going to join the TARDIS crew, then? It’s going to be very crowded in there.

The climactic fight between the Daleks and the Mechanoids is dismissed out of hand (“Richard Martin has reverted to drawing explosions on the screen with a felt-tip pen!”) and she’s practically apoplectic with rage when she believes the last we’ll ever see of Ian and Barbara is the back of their heads as they enter the Daleks’ time machine. In fact, when the Doctor and Vicki exit stage right, Sue leaps off the sofa to protest.

Sue: They can’t do that!

When Ian and Barbara emerge from a lock-up in London to wave at an omnipresent Doctor, she’s still disappointed.

Sue: That’s better, but I’m surprised we didn’t see a proper goodbye scene. It’s very odd.
Me: That would have been too distressing, I think. William Hartnell wasn’t happy about them leaving the series, to put it mildly.
Sue: I thought he looked angrier than he had any right to be.

She isn’t a fan of the montage of still photographs that depicts Ian and Barbara gallivanting around the capital, either.

Sue: This is a bit naff.
Me: It’s supposed to express their boundless joy and excitement.
Sue: Really? It looks like Ian’s just seen Barbara get knocked over by a car.

Ian’s look of horror turns out to be a gag involving a real police box, and Sue is finally swept up in the moment. And by the time the duo relax into each other’s arms, she’s convinced they’ve been given the send-off they deserve.

Sue: That was sweet.
Me: No tears?
Sue: Not really. I’m happy for them. I’ll probably miss Barbara the most. She was brilliant.

THE SCORE

Sue: I enjoyed that. Some of it was very witty, and even the sillier bits were fine in context. And there were some really nice moments at the beginning and right at the end. I’m a bit bored of the Daleks, though. Anyway, I’ll give it:

5/10

Sue: It’s a shame about Peter Purves, though. I thought he was going to be a proper companion. Oh well.

COMMENT: “I thought she’d be a bit more emotional at Ian and Barbara leaving – I know I am.” – Matt Bartley

NOTES: Adventures with the Wife in Space was originally published as a series of regular features on a website called Tachyon TV (it didn’t move to its own domain until the Pertwee years), which probably explains Sue’s reference to it here. One day it will come back. Yes, one day.

Athlete were a popular beat combo in 2011.

THE TIME MEDDLER

BLOGGED: 27 March 2011

THE WATCHER

Sue likes it when the Doctor pines for his ex-companions, and she finds his anxiety about being left alone understandable and strangely humanising.

Sue: If he could just tone down the bloody, “Hmm hmm hmms”, he’d actually be okay.

When Steven staggers into the console room instead of a Dalek, which Sue thought was much more likely, she’s surprised and relieved.

Sue: I’m really pleased. Peter Purves was great in the last episode. I take it he’s in it for the long haul, then? Good.

It didn’t take her very long to forget Ian and start drooling over Steven, did it?

And then we meet the story’s antagonist: the Meddling Monk.

Sue: He’s looks familiar. Wasn’t he in On the Buses?
Me: No, it’s Peter Butterworth from the Carry On... films.
Sue: Oh, yeah. I was pretty close.
Me: If you say so. Anyway, be quiet, my favourite line of dialogue from the Hartnell era is coming up now.

Sue finds the reference to a panda on a chair amusing enough, but she’s much more impressed with the subsequent gag about the space helmet for a cow. In fact, she’s laughing so hard she completely misses one of the show’s most infamous Billy-fluffs (“And I don’t like climbing!”), which seems like a fair trade to me.

Sue: You can tell that this is a Dennis Spooner script – it’s very funny. The direction is superb, too.
Me: Any guesses?
Sue: Is it a Camfield?
Me: That’s my girl.
Sue: You can tell. It’s paced better, the lighting is excellent, the camera moves make sense – even the music is appropriate. Oh, and please stop patronising me.
Me: At least we don’t have to worry about Richard Martin again.
Sue: Thank God! Please tell me Douglas Camfield directs the rest of the series. I mean, just look at that set – it’s the most believable studio environment we’ve seen so far.

It’s a refrain that Sue will repeat throughout this story.

Sue: If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn the Monk was looking at his watch, then. But that wouldn’t make any sense.
Me: No, that would be silly. He must have dropped a bracelet or something.

Later, when Steven finds another wristwatch after getting bitch-slapped in the forest (“Ian wouldn’t have rolled over so easily”), Sue smells a rat.

Sue: Hang on a minute... he was looking at his watch! What the hell is going on? Are they in the past or not? Is this another theme park ride from the future that’s gone tits up?

When the sound of monks chanting suddenly slows down and then speeds up again, Sue assumes it must be a glitch with the grams.

Sue: That was a pretty embarrassing error. Even Hartnell acknowledged it – perhaps he was hoping for a retake.

She greets the cliffhanger, where we discover the Monk’s gramophone is responsible for the chanting, with a rather delightful, “What the fuck?”

Sue: The last time I was this confused, I was watching Lost. Confused in a good way, though.
Me: That was a pretty strong opening, wasn’t it?
Sue: It was excellent. But I’m not going to get my hopes up. All the stories start well, but then they fall apart in the second episode. I’m right, aren’t I? It’s rubbish after this one, isn’t it? I bet you anything.
Me: There’s only one way to find out...

THE MEDDLING MONK

Sue: So can the TARDIS sense that someone is interfering with time, and does it choose to land nearby so the Doctor can sort it out?
Me: It’s never actually stated on-screen, but there are plenty of fans who would agree with that theory. It’s either that or they don’t televise the adventures where nothing interesting happens, although The Sensorites contradicts this.
Sue: So the TARDIS has a soul and a moral purpose. I like that idea.

Sue is immediately suspicious when Hartnell is seen but not heard as the Monk delivers an incredibly elaborate breakfast to his cell.

Sue: Don’t tell me: Hartnell’s gone to Spain again. That would explain why he got his lines mixed up last week – he was thinking about his imminent holiday on the Costa Brava.
Me: I thought you’d be relieved.
Sue: Normally I’d say yes, but he’s really good in this story and I want to see him and this Monk character explain what the hell is going on with the toaster and the record player. Is he a time traveller? Or have these things fallen through a crack in time and he’s simply discovered how they work? Or did he break into the Doctor’s TARDIS and find them in a cupboard? I don’t get it.

These questions will have to wait because a party of Vikings have arrived to rape and pillage. And no, that isn’t a euphemism.

Sue: Well, after all these weeks of watching women being threatened with violence, I suppose someone had to be raped sooner or later. I almost wish they’d killed poor Edith, then we could just pretend that it hasn’t happened. I should be shocked by this, but I’m used to 1960s Doctor Who being much more adult than it is today. Still, it is a bit shocking, isn’t it?

Oh, and before you ask, Sue did recognise Alethea Charlton from an earlier adventure, but she confused her with Sabetha the Teenage Wench from The Keys of Marinus. And you wonder why she can’t recognise Julian Glover.

A BATTLE OF WITS

Sue loves the Monk’s wall-planner, which charts the progress of his nefarious plans.

Sue: Every villain should have a wall chart like that. It’s so much easier to follow what’s going on.

The rest of the episode passes in relative silence, a sure sign that she is totally engrossed in the narrative. And when we reach the cliffhanger, she guesses the twist five seconds before Vicki and Steven enter the Monk’s sarcophagus.

Sue: The Monk isn’t just a time traveller, he has a TARDIS!

(Beat)

Sue: Yes!

We’ve watched three episodes in rapid succession, a record for this experiment, but Sue wants to go on. If we do, this will be the first time we’ve sat through a whole story in a single sitting together since Genesis of the Daleks in 1993.

Sue: Let’s carry on.
Me: Oh, very funny.

CHECKMATE

Sue: So the Monk is another Time Lord from Gallifrey?
Me: Yes. Only they don’t mention the Time Lords or Gallifrey.
Sue: How is that possible?
Me: Because the writers haven’t invented those terms yet.
Sue: No, I mean, what about the Time War?
Me: Oh, that. Well, that happens off-screen. In the new series.
Sue: Oh, that’s disappointing. I was looking forward to seeing them cover it. So, do the Monk and the Doctor know each other?
Me: It’s ambiguous. If you believe the spin-off novels the Monk either went to school with the Doctor or the Doctor inspired him to leave Gallifrey and become a renegade. It’s all very mid-90s and a bit hazy, now. I think his real name might be Mortimus.
Sue: Then he isn’t the Master using a different name?
Me: It isn’t impossible, and he does bang on about his master plan a lot.

When the Monk claims to have drawn compound interest from a bank account in 2168, Sue finds it difficult to believe the banks would still be going then. She’s right, they would have collapsed under the Dalek occupation. Although I don’t think that’s what she meant.

Sue: On second thought, he’s far too nice to be the Master. And if you think about it, he’s only calling himself the Monk because he’s currently based at a monastery. If he left that location, he would have to change his name to something else or it would look a bit silly, wouldn’t it?
Me: That’s a good point. I’m not sure about him being nice, though. He’s about to launch some nuclear missiles off the coast of Northumbria. If he’d succeeded, we wouldn’t be living here now.
Sue: I can’t tell if he’s a naughty child or a misguided lunatic. Either way, he’s a fun character and Peter Butterworth is playing him perfectly. It’s impossible not to root for him. Hartnell is having a whale of a time playing against him, too.

Luckily for us, and house prices in Northumbria, the Monk’s plan fails, and when he leaves the Vikings to a grisly death, Sue is once again shocked by the levels of violence on display, which are extremely distressing, even by the standards we’ve come to expect from 1960s Doctor Who.

Me: If you think that’s bad, there are 12 seconds missing from that scene. Their deaths are even more gruesome and prolonged in the original version.
Sue: Still, I guess they had it coming, the raping bastards.

When the Doctor sabotages the Monk’s TARDIS, my wife is impressed, if a little baffled.

Sue: That’s a neat trick, but why didn’t the Doctor just steal the Monk’s TARDIS? You can tell he’s insanely jealous of it, so why not nick it and leave the crap one behind?
Me: Charming! An hour ago you were talking about the Doctor’s TARDIS having a soul and a conscience, and now you want him to trade her in for a sexier model. It’s a good job I’m not like that.

THE SCORE

Sue: If there’s a contender for an old story to be remade today, this is it. It’s got a simple plot that’s easy to follow, but it still keeps you guessing. The cliffhangers were brilliant, and I don’t think Hartnell’s ever been better. It’s the most enjoyable one so far – it’s certainly the best directed – so I’ll have to give it:

9/10

Me: Wow. Well, that’s the end of the second season. Hooray for us.
Sue: It was a vast improvement on the first, if you ignore The Web Planet, that is. They seem to know what they’re doing now. If they can keep this up, we’ll sail through the next season.

COMMENT: “Oh God, Sue’s recognising Camfield’s direction within minutes now. One of us! One of us! One of us!” – DamonD

NOTES: Looking back at this entry now, it’s clear to me that we were enjoying the penultimate episode too much to actually say anything about it, which I remember worrying me at the time, thinking Pyramids of Mars would be lucky to run to a couple of sentences if we got that far. Ha! If only I knew.

This is the first time we broke our ‘no more than two episodes a night’ rule and The Time Meddler was consumed in one sitting. From this point on, we will follow Sue’s rule that we keep going if she’s enjoying it, and stop when she isn’t. It’s never let us down before.

This is also the first time Sue mistakes someone for the Master. It won’t be the last.

DR WHO AND THE DALEKS

BLOGGED: 29 March 2011

Before we embark on the most testing phase of the experiment so far, I decide to treat Sue to the 1965 Peter Cushing movie. This is a new definition of the word ‘treat’ that she wasn’t previously aware of.

I was a sneaky bastard, too. I cued up the DVD and paused it just before the film started, and then when Sue entered the living room, I told her we were going to watch a one-part story. Once I’d secured the restraints and hit ‘play’, I then took great delight in watching her jaw drop to the floor as she was assaulted by a kaleidoscope of bright colours and a John Barry-esque score.

Sue: What the hell is this? It’s in colour!
Me: Yes.
Sue: And it’s widescreen!
Me: Yes.
Sue: This is the bloody movie, isn’t it? Why are you making me watch this, Neil? This wasn’t part of the deal.

I explain that the movie was released when William Hartnell was still playing the Doctor on television. Besides, I thought she’d be grateful for the splash of colour.

Sue: Why didn’t they just cast William Hartnell in the film?
Me: I thought you liked Peter Cushing?
Sue: I do, but this doesn’t feel right. Was Hartnell pissed off?
Me: He was livid. Imagine if they’d made a feature film starring Johnny Depp during the David Tennant era.

We haven’t even made it past the title sequence and Sue is already finding this uncomfortable. And then it gets much, much worse.

Sue: What the fuck?

And then, a little later...

Sue: WHAT THE FUCK?

As far as Sue is concerned, everything about this film is wrong. It isn’t just different. It’s wrong. In fact, she’s so distressed by the changes, she can hardly get her words out. Everything she’s learnt about the series is being torn apart and replaced by a more accessible, family-friendly alternative. And it’s driving her nuts. Barbara is the Doctor’s granddaughter (“Stupid”), Susan is 12 years old (“Bizarre”) and Ian is a bumbling buffoon (“I love Roy Castle to bits but this is RIDICULOUS!”).

Sue: His name is Doctor Who! They can’t do that!
Me: Yeah, you’d never catch the TV series doing something stupid like that.
Sue: So her name must be Barbara Who and that’s little Susie Who. This is silly. Why are we watching this, Neil? I’ve seen enough. Stick a Hartnell recon on instead.
Me: It’s worth sticking with. Elements from this film have seeped into the TV series. Look at the TARDIS, for example, it’s the same shade of blue as Matt Smith’s TARDIS.
Sue: It is a very nice TARDIS, I’ll give you that. It’s chunky.

But when Ian walks into it...

Sue: TAKING THE PISS!

She’s so angry, you can feel her fire.

Sue: What a pigsty! There’s no central feature to draw your eye. It looks like someone’s garage. It’s cheap.

And then she becomes really angry.

Sue: So the Doctor isn’t an alien from another planet?
Me: No. He’s just some guy who invented a time machine that looks like a police telephone box in his back garden.
Sue: Well, that’s just stupid. This isn’t Doctor Who. I bet all they care about is the Daleks. They even share top billing with the Doctor in the title. What a disgrace.
Me: Okay, calm down. We’re on Skaro now. Don’t you want to see how Terry Nation tells the same story we watched in three hours in a third of the time?
Sue: Not really. And I can’t believe that Terry Nation agreed to re-write himself like this.
Me: Oh, you’ll get used to that.

Sue isn’t taken with Peter Cushing’s performance, which is surprising given her antipathy towards Hartnell, even if she does find him a little easier to deal with (“He isn’t a complete cunt, and he actually knows his lines”).

Sue: He’s too doddery, he’s stooped over like a geriatric ape. It isn’t good casting, this.

The added slapstick from Ian is given short shrift, too.

Sue: If this was anyone but Roy Castle, I’d want to punch him in the face. Maybe he should do a little tap dance – that might open the doors to the city.

But her most ferocious salvo is saved for Jennie Linden.

Sue: This Barbara is terrible. She has no personality at all, she’s nowhere near as attractive as our Barbara, and her trousers are rubbish! Susan is played by a very capable young actress though – she’s very good, actually. She’s acting Barbara off the screen.

When the Daleks turn up via a very impressive reveal, Sue can’t help but admire them.

Sue: I like these colourful Daleks. They remind me of the new fat ones in the Matt Smith series. I’m not sure about the indicator lights on their heads, though.

Sue likes the Dalek city – it reminds her of James Bond – although it isn’t long before the lava lamps become an amusing distraction.

Sue: The sets are very impressive, especially the hill leading up to the city. It’s massive. You can see where all the money went. I just hope Richard Martin saw this. He may have learnt something about directing.

In fact, there are plenty of scenes which meet with Sue’s approval: Ian washing his face, the army of Daleks chanting in unison, the Dalek falling into the lift shaft and slicing his eye stalk off in the process, the Thal assault on the city. But nothing can mitigate for the innate sense of wrongness that permeates every frame of the movie as far as Sue is concerned.

Sue: What a cop-out – the Thal didn’t commit suicide this time. I’m sure he sacrificed himself in ‘The Dead Planet’.

Sue refers to the first Dalek serial as ‘The Dead Planet’ throughout the screening of this film. Bless.

Me: I guess it highlights how dark and depressing the TV series is. For instance, they don’t even attempt to show a swamp monster. It would have been too scary, I guess.
Sue: The most interesting thing about this film for me is that it was made so close to the original. It isn’t as if we’re watching a remake 30 years later with loads of CGI. And yet they seem to exist in completely different time frames. On the one hand, the film is clearly much more impressive – it’s quicker, bigger and better made – but at the same time it’s less impressive than the original. And the original wasn’t that impressive to begin with.

The movie concludes with Ian throwing a dicky fit when a remake of The Romans appears to be on the cards.

Sue: Please tell me they didn’t make a sequel.

THE SCORE

Me: Right, how many marks are you going to give that?
Sue: Nothing.
Me: Zero out of 10? Are you serious?
Sue: I refuse to mark it. It doesn’t count. A bit like Paul McGann.
Me: But Paul McGann does count.
Sue: Does he? I thought Queer As Folk said he didn’t.
Me: The last time I checked, Queer As Folk wasn’t canonical. Then again, nor is this.
Sue: I’m still not marking it. You can’t make me.

0/10

Sue: So there.

COMMENT: “Your wife is hilarious when she’s pissed.” – TheJohn

SEASON THREE

DOCTOR COMMA WHO IS REQUIRED

GALAXY 4

BLOGGED: 5 April 2011

FOUR HUNDRED DAWNS

My friend John Williams has kindly furnished me with all the recons I need to get us through the next few months, but his Loose Canon reconstruction of ‘Galaxy Snore’ leaves a lot to be desired. It looks like it’s been sourced from a 10th-generation VHS tape, with picture distortion, hissy sound and off-locks galore. In fact, it’s so piss poor, I seriously consider buying the remastered audio soundtrack on CD so we can listen to it in the car on our way to work. It can’t be any worse than Chris Moyles, can it?

And then something bizarre and unexpected happened. A few days before we were scheduled to begin Galaxy 4, a mysterious package turned up in my pigeon-hole where I work. The jiffy bag was addressed to ‘Sue’ C/O Neil Perryman, and nestled inside the package was a plain DVD with ‘Galaxy 4’ written on it in exceptionally neat handwriting. Nothing else. No return address, no note, nothing.

When I played the DVD, I was astonished to discover that it wasn’t just any old reconstruction of Galaxy 4. Oh no. This had been augmented and enhanced with animated CGI Chumblies, filmed inserts and all kinds of Photoshop jiggery-pokery. Whoever sent it remains a mystery, but if you’re reading the blog (and I guess you are), thank you very much! I won’t tell a soul.

Sue: Oh, this looks interesting.

I tell her we’re lucky to see Galaxy 4 like this and she’s genuinely impressed by the fans’ ingenuity, especially when so little visual information about this story actually exists. Although somebody did go to the trouble of filming Vicki cutting Steven’s hair for five seconds on Super 8 film. The mind boggles.

Even more incredibly, Sue actually likes the Chumblies.

Sue: They’re quite cute in a squashed Robby the Robot sort of way.
Me: Yeah, but they’re supposed to be threatening, or at least mysterious. They just look silly.
Sue: Were they going to be the next Daleks?
Me: Only if you were clinically insane.
Sue: They’ll never catch on – you can’t impersonate them in the playground. Not unless you happen to be really small and fat. They remind me of a Henry vacuum cleaner crossed with R2-D2.

She is thrown by the six minutes of moving footage which show us the Drahvins in all their, erm, glory. All Sue can comment on is how nice the cladding inside their spaceship looks, and how one of them reminds her of Petula Clarke with a machine gun.

Sue: Okay, don’t tell me. These are the baddies and the ugly monsters are the goodies. Am I right?
Me: Brilliant. You’ve guessed the twist in the first 10 minutes.
Sue: It’s a bit obvious, isn’t it?
Me: This lot turn up in a Matt Smith episode, you know.
Sue: Piss off!
Me: They do! They end up in orbit around Earth in the episode where all the bad guys turn up at Stonehenge. We don’t see them in the flesh though, which is a shame because a race of gun-toting Barbarellas re-imagined by Steven Moffat would have been, erm, interesting to say the very least.
Sue: The complete opposite of this, then? I don’t know what you want me to say about it. It’s boring and old-fashioned. Will that do? What did you think of it?
Me: I thought it was boring and old-fashioned.

TRAP OF STEEL

As we settle down to watch the next episode, Sue makes a startling announcement.

Sue: I still don’t understand why we’re doing this.
Me: What do you mean?
Sue: What are you hoping to get out of this? What’s the point?
Me: I’m just trying to gain a fresh perspective on Doctor Who. Oh, and a book deal. That would be nice. Besides, people are hanging on your every word. You could change fandom’s consensus about the Rills if you really wanted to. You can’t give up now.
Sue: I think you’re trying to turn me into a fan.
Me: I’m not!
Sue: Just because I refused to mark the Peter Cushing film, that doesn’t make me a fan. Just so we’re clear on that.

I think she’s been reading the blog’s comments again.

Sue: I could never be a fan, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. I haven’t got the memory for it. I can’t even remember what the characters were called last week. I haven’t got the time or space or in my head to store that kind of information. I’m a very busy woman.
Me: Interesting use of the words ‘time’ and ‘space’ there.

She’s right, though. We only started this experiment a couple of months ago, and yet I’d wager good money she still couldn’t tell the difference between Marinus and Xeros without a map and a Jean-Marc Lofficier programme guide.

Me: Don’t worry, I’m not trying to turn you into a fan. And when you told your girlfriend that you liked her new top because it was the same shade of blue as Matt Smith’s TARDIS, that was just a coincidence.
Sue: I had to spend 30 minutes convincing her that Matt Smith wasn’t gay after she’d seen him in that Isherwood drama.
Me: You told me you thought Matt Smith was channelling William Hartnell in the new series trailer. Admit it, Sue, you’re a fan. Embrace it, love.
Sue: Stop it. Ain’t never gonna happen.
Me: No, not with Galaxy 4 it isn’t.

The problem with Galaxy 4 is that it’s peppered with longueurs. This recon’s soundtrack doesn’t include any narration either, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to sit through, especially after the novelty of watching your first CGI Chumbley wears off.

Some of the backchat between the Doctor and Marga manages to engage Sue for a few minutes, and she also picks up on the fact Vicki is suddenly being written as the Doctor’s intellectual equal, if not his superior, which feels a little odd. She also highlights the repetitive nature of the plot (“How many times have we seen the bad guys force the Doctor to do something for them while they hold his companion hostage? It implies that you have to force him into doing anything proactive”) but, on the whole, I think she’s bored senseless.

Sue: The base is made up of retractable stands that you usually see at exhibition halls, and upside-down swivel chairs. It isn’t doing anything for me.
Me: Oh, it’s a Rill. That isn’t something you see every day.
Sue: It looks like a giant poo.

AIR LOCK

The Rill reminds Sue of Ambassador Kosh from Babylon 5. That’s probably why I married her. She especially likes the fact he isn’t humanoid and has to talk through a machine while he’s locked away in his own atmosphere. She keeps expecting him to spout obscure poetry and enigmatic riddles. Sadly, this Rill is a fairly prosaic sort of chap and he tells us what Sue has suspected for some time –the Rills are the good guys and the Drahvins are the bad guys.

Sue: I’m struggling with this. It’s just the same Chumbley going up and down, making funny noises.
Me: If by funny you mean ‘really fucking irritating’, well, yes, that’s basically this story in a nutshell.
Sue: What was Verity doing?
Me: Working her notice, probably.

As the episode staggers towards its cliffhanger – which is so drawn out you could make a cup of tea in the middle of it – Sue’s attention turns to the reconstructed CGI-Steven Taylor who appears to have had his head stuck on top of a semi-clad Action Man. She knows the fans are doing their best but she still winces when they overshoot themselves.

Then, just to prove the Drahvins really are Amazonian Space Nazis from Hell, they torture Steven by sucking all the joy out of the room. Or is it the oxygen? It’s hard to tell at this point.

Sue: Still, if you’re going to vacuum-pack anyone, Steven is the perfect specimen.
Me: Steady on, love. Ian’s only been gone a couple of weeks.

As Steven suffocates to death, Sue makes an executive decision.

Sue: Let’s just get this over with. Let’s watch it all. Now. Tonight.
Me: Are you serious?
Sue: Look, if we don’t finish this now, I don’t think we ever will. I can’t bear the thought of the final episode hanging over me tomorrow. I’ll be depressed all day.
Me: Well, if you insist.
Sue: Just get it over with.

THE EXPLODING PLANET

As the story limps towards its inevitable, signposted denouement, Sue’s mind begins to wander. For instance, when the Doctor talks about Ammonia bombs, all she can think about is whether the cats’ litter trays need changing or not.

Sue: I don’t know what else to say. I’m not giving you much to go on, am I?
Me: You could say practically anything at this point, Sue. Ninety per cent of the fans reading the blog won’t have seen or heard Galaxy 4, and they probably never will. In fact, on the fanometer, you are almost certainly hovering around an ‘eight’ at the moment.
Sue: In that case, I liked the bit when the Rills somersaulted over the Doctor’s head and the giant chipmunks came crawling out of the ground as the planet tore itself apart. That was pretty cool.

As the TARDIS flies past the planet Kembel, the Doctor wonders what might be going on down there. Well, you would, wouldn’t you? And then we find ourselves in a jungle where someone “a bit Lee Major-ish” is muttering to himself about the need to kill. And after Galaxy 4, we both know how he feels.

Sue: So the Doctor can pilot the TARDIS now?
Me: What makes you say that?
Sue: Well, he’s curious about what’s happening down there on that planet, so we’re obviously going to have an adventure on it, therefore he must have chosen to land there, so he must be able to fly it. And you call yourself a fan?

THE SCORE

Sue: Well, that wasn’t very good. I think I wobbled for a second. However, I’ve seen worse, and I’ve sat through longer, and I feel like I’ve accomplished something, too. You know, like a Bush Tucker Trial or a sponsored fast.

2/10

COMMENT: “Sue gets full marks for sticking with it – as do you for persuading her in the first place. My other half has already told me if I ever attempt the same thing with her, she’ll be prising the TV remote from my cold, dead hands.” – Paul Greaves

NOTES: My throwaway remark about a book deal wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. The consequences will be covered in further volumes.

Not long after we blogged this story, a missing episode of Galaxy 4 turned up in an old man’s shed. For the sake of completism, Kickstarter obligations, and a streak of sadomasochism that I didn’t even know she had, my wife agreed to watch the story that nearly killed her again (please refer to the Extras section of this book).

MISSION TO THE UNKNOWN

BLOGGED: 6 April 2011

More than 10 minutes pass before Sue asks the obvious question.

Sue: Where the hell is the Doctor?
Me: He isn’t in this one.
Sue: Has he gone on holiday again? Where to this time?
Me: Everyone has gone on holiday this week.
Sue: What? They can’t do that! I don’t understand...
Me: This is the first and only time in the history of the series the regular cast don’t appear in an episode.
Sue: So, technically, this isn’t actually Doctor Who?
Me: Well...
Sue: Just answer one question for me: Does anything we’re watching now have any bearing on the next episode?
Me: No.
Sue: So why the hell are we watching it?
Me: This is Terry Nation’s attempt to get an American TV show featuring the Daleks off the ground. I suppose you could regard it as an experiment to see if the metal meanies could hold their own without the Doctor being around.
Sue: The more I hear about Terry Nation, the less I like him. He’s just in it for the money, isn’t he? So, does this impact on anything this season?
Me: Oh yes. Wait and see.
Sue: Oh. Well, in that case, this is pretty interesting.

She picks up on the James Bond subtext immediately (“So this lot are MI6 in space?”), and she thinks the Varga plants are suitably scary (“Kids would have been terrified of rose thorns for weeks”). She’s also happy the Daleks are back to their evil, implacable ways after the bumbling farce of The Chase.

Sue: This reminds me of Battlestar Galactica.
Me: It is Battlestar Galactica! The person who made this recon has inserted a shot of a Battlestar where an alien ship’s meant to be. Try to ignore it.

As the Daleks and representatives from seven alien planets discuss their nefarious plans, Sue asks the next obvious question:

Sue: Who are these guys?
Me: That question is so complicated, you’ll fall asleep halfway through the answer.
Sue: Is the evil Christmas tree real?

As the credits roll, we wave goodbye to Verity Lambert.

Me: Do you want to say anything about Verity before we leave her era behind?
Sue: She was a pioneer, an inspiration and a legend. I met her once, you know. She was lovely. In fact, you made me ask her a question.
Me: Did I? I’d forgotten about that. What did she say?
Sue: I have no idea. That’s why I’ll never be a fan.

THE SCORE

Sue: Well, that was different. I liked it. It reminded me of Babylon 5, especially with the aliens having a big meeting, and the Daleks were a bit like the Shadows returning after a thousand years. It’s a shame a young Bruce Boxleitner wasn’t cast in it – Terry Nation may have got his American series.
Me: Did you miss the Doctor or his companions?
Sue: Not really. I guess that means it was successful.

6/10

Sue: I know I said I liked the recons, but I’m pretty sure I would have scored that one a lot higher if I’d actually seen it.

COMMENT: “You should point out to Sue that the young Bruce Boxleitner would have been 15 when this story was made.” – Tony Sobol

NOTES: ‘Is the evil Christmas tree real?’ was requested by several readers as a possible T-shirt slogan. So I commissioned an artist, sweated over some designs, opened an online shop and sold two (and one of them was to Sue’s brother, Gary). He was very pleased with it (even if he didn’t understand it), so I guess it wasn’t a complete waste of time.

THE MYTH MAKERS

BLOGGED: 9 April 2011

I’m going to shake up the blog’s format for this particular instalment. Instead of writing up my notes episodically, I’m going to tackle it as a single entry. The reason for this is simple, The Myth Makers passed the ultimate test and we watched it in one go. Sue insisted.

The first thing she praises is the programme’s audacious decision not to follow Mission to the Unknown with the next logical part of that story, and I mentally kick myself for forewarning her yesterday.

Sue: The kids must have hated this. Do you think they were waiting for the Daleks to show up? The poor bastards.

We are both fascinated by the brief glimpses of Super 8 footage which sporadically pop up to tantalise us during the recon, and we notice the person who filmed these interludes wasn’t very interested in William Hartnell. In fact, since all the sequences feature Maureen O’Brien, we surmise the cinematographer must have had a crush on her. It’s rather touching, really, and if anyone knows of a more prosaic reason for these clips surviving, please spare us the details.

The story steps up a gear with the arrival of Odysseus and Agamemnon (“The last time we saw this guy, he was trying to rape Barbara”), and it quickly becomes clear this isn’t your average run-of-the-mill romp. Before we know it, the wife and I have been sucked into the story. We usually have to wait for a lull in the action to discuss anything of importance, but that never happens when the script is this good. We’re watching The Myth Makers like an episode of modern Doctor Who – engaged, enthralled and laughing our asses off.

And these are belly laughs we’re talking about here. We aren’t politely giggling at quaint, but dated, stabs at comic relief. Sometimes it’s the dialogue that hits the sweet spot (“It’s a bit late to say woe to the horse”), and sometimes it’s the performances – when Paris calls Achilles out for a fight we are both in hysterics. Even one of the episode titles gets a laugh.

Oh, and they throw in a joke about an orgy.

Our favourite sequence occurs when the Doctor dismisses the idea of a giant horse because it’s patently ridiculous – Homer obviously made it up – so sells the idea of a flying machine to the Greeks instead. When this fails miserably, the Doctor resorts to plan-B and nicks Homer’s horse idea. It’s a multilayered joke that says a lot about the character of the Doctor, his place in history, and just how inventive this programme is when it wants to be. Most of all, it’s hilarious. William Hartnell is on fire.

Sue: This feels very modern. It’s dripping in sarcasm and the plot is very clever. The cast are incredible as well. It would take Richard Martin to ruin this one. Why doesn’t it exist? It’s so frustrating!

And yet, while The Myth Makers is consistently funny, it never strays into farce. Which is just as well given what happens in the final episode.

You know it’s coming, in much the same way you know Vicki/Cressida will fall for Troilus (“Do you think she’s heard of the best-selling book based on her imminent love affair?”), but it still feels like a punch in the gut when the blood starts to flow. In some ways, I’m glad we’re listening to Peter Purves describing the slaughter, instead of witnessing it first hand.

But of course, the biggest shock is saved for the very end. I know it’s coming and I’m surprised.

Sue: Eh? She’s a new companion? Who the hell is she? Kata-what?
Me: I must admit, this is a little odd. Katarina turns up in the last 10 minutes, does very little, and then she’s suddenly a member of the TARDIS crew. It would be like Amy Pond turning up at the end of Matt Smith’s first adventure and mumbling in the background. It’s bloody weird. There is a reason for it, but I’ll save it for later. Spoilers, sweetie.
Sue: It doesn’t help that she can’t act. Everyone sounds brilliant in this. Everyone except her. She sounds catatonic.
Me: Why couldn’t they have taken Paris with them instead? Imagine how much fun that would have been!
Sue: Look, can the Doctor steer the TARDIS accurately or not?
Me: No, not yet.
Sue: So how did he manage to bring the TARDIS back to Troy so Vicki can say goodbye to Troilus?
Me: He didn’t.

It slowly dawns on Sue that Vicki never left Troy in the first place. She stayed behind to be with Ian Ogilvy’s doomed doppelgänger.

Sue: No, that’s not right! They can’t do that, can they?
Me: They just did.
Sue: But she didn’t even get a proper goodbye scene! That’s another off-screen farewell. And Hartnell seems remarkably calm about her decision to leave given the dicky fit he had last time people upped and left him. I’m really confused by this development, and I’m not entirely happy about it, either.

It’s a traumatic experience for everyone concerned, especially Steven, who thrashes around on a bed moaning Vicki’s name, while Katarina wanders around like a stoner who thinks she’s died and gone to heaven.

Sue: Is it a rule that companions have to fall in love before they can leave the series?

THE SCORE

Sue: Well, that was mostly excellent. It was very funny but still very bleak. Maybe a little too bleak. You really got to like those people. Maybe Paris was supposed to be a bad guy, but he’s so funny, it was impossible not to root for him. The same goes for Odysseus. You even sympathise with Cassandra a bit – she is right, after all. And then it’s complete and utter carnage at the end. It doesn’t seem fair. And I can’t say I’m thrilled about Vicki leaving, either, but it’s a bold move, I’ll give it that. Sod The Tenth Planet, or whatever it’s called.
Me: Fan.
Sue: Shut it. You told me The Tenth Planet was the Holy Grail of missing episodes. Well, it had better be something special to compete with this, that’s all I’m saying. The fans should spend more time searching for this one.

8/10

If it were up to me, I would have given The Myth Makers a 10. Even if this experiment goes tits up in the middle of a Base Under Siege, at least it gave me a reason to engage with the story at long last, and I’ll always be grateful for that. Seriously, if you’ve never experienced it before, you really should, you know. You won’t regret it.

Anyway, I don’t think we’ll be watching the next adventure in one sitting, so we may be gone some time.

COMMENT: “The Myth Makers is fucking ace!” – James Griffin

NOTES: As we enter our third month, I’m still playing with the format of the blog. Looking back now, I suspect the real reason I did this is because I was enjoying The Myth Makers so much I stopped taking notes and reverted to my original plan of quizzing Sue after the event, hoping no-one would notice – which of course they did.

THE DALEKS’ MASTER PLAN

BLOGGED: 13 – 22 April 2011

THE NIGHTMARE BEGINS

Do I come clean and tell Sue that we’re about to start a 12-part epic, or do I postpone the inevitable and pretend it’s a two-parter? The second option will only get me so far (and a cushion in the face), so I’ve decided to take the approach that’s been endorsed by a fantastic blog called TARDIS Eruditorum, where Philip Sandifer suggests the best way to enjoy The Daleks’ Master Plan is not to treat it as a 12-part story at all (although he also suggests we skip episodes seven to 10, which, while tempting, would technically be cheating). Anyway, it’s a brilliant blog and the perfect counterpoint to ours; he’s going through the series from the beginning too, although he has some really serious and fascinating points to make about how television was made and viewed back in the 1960s, while all we do is bicker about the length of Barbara’s skirts.

Sue: Twelve episodes? Twelve?
Me: Yes, but the audience wouldn’t have known that at the time. Let’s just take it one episode at a time. If it helps, try to imagine Matt Smith’s last season as a 13-part epic. It’s that sort of thing. A bit.
Sue: Does it have a story arc?
Me: Yes, that’s it. It has a story arc. A very long and very weird story arc.
Sue: What did you say? You’re mumbling under your breath again.
Me: Sorry, it doesn’t matter. Let’s crack on.

I fire up the first recon.

Sue: Terry Nation! Twelve episodes of Terry fucking Nation! No fucking way!
Me: Don’t panic, he doesn’t write all of them.
Sue: How many does he write?
Me: Half of them.
Sue: Oh, for God’s sake!

I ask her to identify the actors playing Brett Vyon and Kert Gantry.

Sue: Well, that’s the Brigadier, and that’s some bloke from Play School.

For Sue, this is as good as it gets, and I have to put her out of her misery, just as a Dalek does the same to Gantry.

Sue: He really is Brian Can’t now.

Gantry’s horrific death scene is accompanied by moving images, and this brief glimpse of live action is enough to convince Sue the director did a pretty good job.

Sue: That’s a nice low-angle death scene. Is this Douglas Camfield?

Incredible. Anyway, the episode goes down well. Sue’s pleased that Kembel is back on the agenda again, she’s delighted Earth’s security force are run by Right, Said Fred, and she’s intrigued when Mavic Chen sells everyone out to the Daleks.

Sue: Is this is the equivalent of Kofi Annan or Ban Ki-moon making a secret deal with hostile alien invaders? Charming.

Unfortunately, the cliffhanger, which involves the Daleks surrounding the TARDIS, infuriates her.

Sue: They’ve left the bloody doors open again! I hate it when they do that.

DAY OF ARMAGEDDON

This is our first ‘real’ episode for what feels like an eternity. Even Sue, who has no problems with the recons (and has been known to prefer them), is relieved to see people’s mouths move for more than 60 seconds at a time. It also means we get our first decent look at Katarina.

Sue: She’s a lot older than I imagined from her voice and the photographs. I don’t know how long they can keep up the blissful ignorance gimmick, though, it’s already starting to wear a bit thin. It’s bad enough when the companions have to ask the Doctor stupid questions so the audience can follow the plot, but if Katarina has to ask him what a bloody key is, we’ll never get anywhere.

Mavic Chen’s ethnicity is also a bone of contention.

Sue: Is he Polish?
Me: No, but his face is almost certainly covered in the stuff.
Sue: I thought he was an alien at first. He doesn’t look like any nationality I recognise. He’s a pretty good actor, though. He does interesting things with his fingers.
Me: I just don’t see why a bloke who’s running a solar system would want to run a universe as well. It sounds like far too much responsibility and paperwork.
Sue: He’s an idiot if he doesn’t realise the Daleks will kill him as soon as they’ve finished with him. What a berk. And this music is bloody awful! I can’t follow a damn thing while it’s whining away in the background.

The alien delegation, who are busy plotting the downfall of our solar system, fail to instil any fear in Sue.

Sue: Is this the best they could do? A scuba diver, a leper and a mime artist? And what’s with all the slow-motion dancing?
Me: I expect he’s adapting to a different gravity.
Sue: He looks like he’s adapting to underpants two sizes too small for him.

When Zephon (an extremely bad-tempered shrub) begins ranting and raving, everything suddenly falls into place.

Sue: Okay, okay, I get it. This lot are the presidents of all the rogue nations, and they’ve got together to kick the West’s butt. And the bloke with the twigs for arms is the craziest one, which makes him the Colonel Gaddafi of the group. Am I right?

When the Doctor infiltrates the evildoers’ meeting (“Do they have to go through the minutes of the last conquest?”), Sue admires his pluck.

Sue: The Doctor has some balls to walk into that meeting, although not as many as the alien who can’t walk properly.

The Daleks’ master plan involves a priceless taranium core, or, if you’re Sue, a can of baked beans. So she’s flabbergasted when everyone runs away, leaving this valuable commodity behind for the Doctor to conveniently pinch.

Sue: Wimps. They scatter at the first sign of trouble, and yet we’re supposed to believe they’re the most fearsome and evil fighting force ever assembled. What a joke.

When all hell breaks loose, Brett Vyon decides that waiting for the Doctor to return isn’t in his best interests after all and he prepares Mavic Chen’s ship (or spar – no, I don’t understand it either) for take off. The git.

Sue: It’s just as well the Doctor doesn’t leave – his TARDIS is still there.

DEVIL’S PLANET

When the Doctor is safely on board Chen’s ship/spar/jacuzzi, Sue fixates on his inability to pilot the TARDIS. Again.

Sue: But isn’t it a bit stupid? I mean, why can’t he fly it properly? What’s the point?
Me: Because if he could fly it properly, you’d ask me why doesn’t he just nip back in time to sort out a problem, or why doesn’t he land somewhere where everything is nice and peaceful? All the fucking time. That’s why.
Sue: It’s still annoying, though. Matt Smith doesn’t have any trouble with his.

At one point, the good guys spend an inordinate amount of time listening to Marc Cory’s recording from Mission to the Unknown, even though it doesn’t tell them anything they don’t already know.

Sue: What a complete waste of time. Terry fucking Nation.

The spar crashes on Desperus, a prison planet where things are, well, desperate.

Me: Do you think they sent the prisoners there and then they named the planet Desperus? Or did they scout around the universe for a shit-hole with an appropriate name?
Sue: Cavemen? Again? Really?
Me: It reminds me of the penal planet in Alien 3.
Sue: Oh, great! More rapists!

Sue’s attention has begun to drift, and when the episode concludes with a prisoner sneaking onto the spar and taking Katarina hostage, she shrugs her shoulders and yawns.

THE TRAITORS

Sue: I’m starting to lose interest in this story. Nothing seems to be happening. It’s just land on a planet – narrowly escape from the Daleks – land on another planet, and then repeat. It’s... FUCKING HELL!

Katarina sacrifices herself. Well, I say sacrifice...

Sue: Did she do that on purpose, or was it just a stupid accident because she doesn’t know how doors work?
Me: I think we’re supposed to go with the noble sacrifice angle.
Sue: So, that’s it, then? She’s dead? Really, really dead?
Me: Yep. Brutal, isn’t it?
Sue: So is Katarina a real companion or not?
Me: You tell me.
Sue: Well, I don’t know. Sort of, I guess. What do the fans say?
Me: Don’t pay any attention to them. But, yes, the fan consensus says Katarina is a companion. A dead companion.
Sue: I suppose she must be, then. It’s difficult to get that upset about it, though.

I tell her that Katarina was a last-minute replacement for Vicki when Maureen O’Brien and the producer, John Wiles, had a falling out and he fired her. Then I ask her to imagine that scene ending with Vicki flying out of the airlock instead.

Sue: That would have been horrific. I’m glad Vicki had a sweet love affair instead. No, that would have been terrible. And if that’s true, Katarina can’t be a real companion, after all. She was just a stand-in.
Me: But the audience wouldn’t have known that.
Sue: I don’t care. In fact, I would have been more upset if the Brigadier had died. I feel like we’ve spent more time with that character. He’s rather dashing, actually. You can see why they asked him to come back.

As Katarina’s lifeless body drifts away in the cold, inky blackness of space, the Doctor cobbles together a vaguely touching, and seemingly heartfelt eulogy. However, a few moments later, he’s suddenly back to his old, chipper self.

Sue: He’s taking it rather well, don’t you think?
Me: Katarina is the first person who dies under his care. It’s a big turning point for the series. But yes, I don’t see how they could have carried on as if nothing had happened if Vicki’s corpse had floated past that window. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

And then Jean Marsh turns up as Sara Kingdom (and no, Sue doesn’t recognise her at first).

Sue: She must be the next companion.
Me: Well...
Sue: Shit! She just shot the Brigadier! What a cow!
Me: It’s worse than that, love, he’s dead.
Sue: This is turning into a bloodbath. Was he a real companion? The Doctor is getting through a lot of companions today. I’d be worried if I was Steven.

When Sara Kingdom strides (in full motion!) after the Doctor, Sue makes the obvious comparison – “It’s Emma Peel in Space” – and then she’s appalled when Sara orders her men to shoot our heroes on sight. In the head, no less.

Sue: Bitch! She definitely isn’t the next companion.

COUNTER PLOT

We enjoy – if enjoy is the right word – a brief respite from the recons with an episode that actually exists in the archives. Whoopee-fucking-do. Of all the episodes that survive from this story, why did it have to be this one?

Sue: I’m not sure if the guy playing Chen is taking this seriously or not. The way he waves his fingers around, like he’s enjoying a dainty cup of tea, is a bit weird. And the way he rolls his eyes, it’s... I don’t know... a bit panto.
Me: It’s bloody entertaining, that’s what it is. He’s an oasis in a desert of mediocrity.

Sue likes Chen’s right-hand man, the bald (and even bolder) Kirksen, who couldn’t be more sinister if he tried. And believe me, he’s trying.

Sue: So Chen is Tony Blair and Duncan Goodhew is Peter Mandelson, the real power behind the throne. Chen is very naive, isn’t he?

When the episode gets its regulars to jump up and down on a trampoline, so they can show us what it looks like to be teleported through space, Sue is disappointed when Hartnell refuses to take part.

Sue: It’s a pity, but understandable, I suppose. If you make old people jump up and down like that, they wet themselves. It’s a well-known fact. Hartnell probably didn’t have his Kanga Pants on.

Our heroes are transported to an alien world.

Sue: Are we on Kembel again?
Me: No, we’re on the planet Mira.
Sue: All these jungles look the same to me. And what kind of name is Mira?
Me: Terry Nation usually names his planets after what they’re like. So, for example, Desperus is desperate, Aridius is Arid, Mechanus is mechanical, Marinus is boring... sorry, I mean wet.
Sue: Maybe Terry had an unhappy love affair with a woman named Myra? This is a shit hole.

Sue is agitated by the Doctor’s inability to get his spaceship back.

Sue: Why hasn’t the Doctor got a remote control for his TARDIS?
Me: He just doesn’t.
Sue: Matt Smith has one.
Me: They deal with the issue of remote-controlled TARDISes in the 1980s.
Sue: Good. I’ll look forward to that one.

I’ll remind her of this conversation when we get there. (NB. I didn’t.)

Sue: There’s some lovely direction here. Typical Camfield. He has this trademark move where he likes to track in slowly on a tight, layered, three-shot. He’s very good at it, too. He makes Hartnell look especially good.

She also enjoys the intense bickering between Steven and Sara (“Steven’s great when he’s angry. I like him when he’s angry”), but when Sara reveals that Brett Vyon was her brother, Sue isn’t very happy. It’s one shock too many and it makes Sara seem even more unlikable and unreasonable than she already is. But that’s nothing compared to the disdain she shows the Daleks who decide to murder some innocent mice. The idiots.

Sue: The poor things. What harm did the mice ever do to anyone? And how can the Daleks not know what mice are? They’ve invaded planets before – including Earth – and they still don’t know what a mouse is? Pull the other one, it’s got a sink plunger on it.

The Daleks compensate for their gross stupidity with lots of scary posturing.

Sue: That’s a pretty good cliffhanger. Steven and Sara are genuinely terrified when the Dalek captures them. I’m almost convinced.

CORONAS OF THE SUN

Sue: Hooray!

She is, of course, reacting to Dennis Spooner’s writing credit, which has replaced Terry Nation’s. But then Terry’s name appears anyway.

Sue: No! That’s not fair!

Most of this episode is preoccupied with the Doctor’s attempts to cobble together a fake taranium core so he can bamboozle the Daleks with it.

Sue: Just take the label off a can of baked beans.

When Steven encloses himself in a force field, I manage to convince Sue he’s accidentally killed himself. What’s really telling here is she believes me completely. There’s nothing that Doctor Who wouldn’t do right now as far as she’s concerned. Except make the Daleks interesting, of course.

Sue: I can’t stand the Daleks.
Me: Really?
Sue: They’re okay when they’re exterminating things – and I notice that they’ve starting to use that word a lot more – but when they’re gliding around and chatting, like they do every single time we meet them, they send me to sleep. Is there anything more boring than a room full of Daleks talking among themselves?

The monotony is relived by Mavic Chen.

Sue: There’s some very witty banter here. I like the way Chen winds the Daleks up; they’re actually annoyed with him. It really is the blind leading the blind. When it comes to conquering the universe, they haven’t got a hope in hell.

As the Doctor and his companions escape in the TARDIS, leaving Chen and the Daleks holding a fake taranium core, Sue doesn’t understand why they can’t end the story right there.

Sue: The Daleks should realise it’s fake, they should kill Chen in a fit of pique, and then they should go back to the drawing board for several months. The End.

If only life were that simple.

THE FEAST OF STEVEN

Well, this is it. The moment we’ve all been waiting for.

Sue: For fuck’s sake, it’s Terry Nation again! You said we were finished with him!
Me: Sorry, I forgot.
Sue: So which shit-hole have they landed on this time?
Me: Liverpool, I think.

It takes a few minutes for Sue to work out what’s going on.

Sue: This is a Christmas special, isn’t it? The carol singing, the silly title, the pathetic attempts at comedy.
Me: You’ve got it in one.
Sue: So when do the Daleks turn up?
Me: Wait and see.

The scenes set in the police station are vaguely amusing – and it’s Tom Stoppard compared to what’s coming – but Sue believes this is just a diversion, and things will be back on track soon.

Sue: It’s fun for the whole family before the killing starts again.

We find ourselves on the set of a 1920s silent film, and it’s here her patience begins to be tested. Things are so bad, even Peter Purves sounds embarrassed as he delivers his narration on the soundtrack.

It doesn’t help that practically every scene includes a crowd of people squabbling loudly in the background (“Was that on the telly, or was the person who recorded it rowing with his family in the other room?”). The version we are watching/listening to is almost impossible to make out at times. It’s a chore, to be honest.

And then Hartnell utters one of his most famous lines, and, by some strange miracle, we actually hear it (“It’s a madhouse. It’s all full of Arabs.”).

Sue: Is this story classed as a historical?
Me: I think the term you’re looking for is ‘hysterical’.

When the Keystone Cops turn up, Sue snaps.

Sue: Please make it stop. Tell me the Daleks are going to show up and kill them all? Please?
Me: There are less than three minutes to go. Do you really think the Daleks are going to show up now?
Sue: Incredible. On Christmas Day, when the whole family are watching, and the kids are psyched up to see the Daleks, what everyone got instead was a below-par Carry On... with some Dixon of Dock Green thrown in for good measure. Merry Christmas, kids!
Me: We should be grateful they didn’t drag the Daleks into this mess. Imagine how much worse it could have been: Mavic Chen could have been mistaken for Charlie Chan, and the Daleks could have exterminated Harold Lloyd. We got off lightly.

The Doctor has a little chat with Bing Crosby, who’s having a bloody good moan about Charlie Chaplin (we think – the recon sounds terrible), and then the Pandorica Opens and the universe explodes. Or something.

Sue: What a complete waste of time.
Me: Shhhh. You need to pay attention to this last bit.
Sue: Why? Do the Daleks show up?
Me: Nooooooooo!!!!
Sue: It isn’t that bad, love.
Me: They’ve taken it out! I don’t believe it! They’re so ashamed of it, they actually edited it out!
Sue: Edited what out? What are you going on about?
Me: Only one of the most controversial and infamous moments in Doctor Who’s 48-year history, that’s all!
Sue: Ooh, you’ve got me all excited now.
Me: It was supposed to jump out at you from left field, but now I’ve got to hunt down a version of it on YouTube. Damn it.

I eventually track down the moment where William Hartnell turns to the audience and wishes them all a Merry Christmas. And it’s been animated, too, which makes it even weirder.

Sue: What’s the big deal?
Me: What’s the big deal? William Hartnell broke the fourth wall! I know the sets in Doctor Who are supposed to be a bit flimsy but that is ridiculous. Isn’t it?
Sue: It doesn’t bother me. It’s obvious now that this episode was a comedy sketch. A not-very-funny comedy sketch, I grant you, but have you seen a Christmas edition of My Family? It’s just a silly one-off. You know, a bit like those mini-episodes that appear in the middle of Children in Need and Comic Relief. Nobody takes them seriously.
Me: Well...
Sue: It’s not meant for the fanboys, it’s for the whole family, many of whom probably aren’t familiar with Doctor Who. People don’t want to be thrust into the middle of a 12-part epic after their turkey dinner. This wasn’t a real episode of Doctor Who. Get over it, Neil.
Me: I think this is the only episode of Doctor Who that definitely doesn’t exist any more. The BBC never sold it abroad, which means no copies were ever made. Actually, I think they may have destroyed it on purpose.
Sue: Thank heavens for small mercies.
Me: Having said that, it’s still a better Christmas Special than The Next Doctor.

VOLCANO

Sue: I’m almost relieved to be back with Mavic Chen and the Daleks after yesterday’s madness.
Me: They’re going to be mightily pissed-off when they find out that taranium core is a fake.
Sue: The script is quite witty. It’s obvious Dennis Spooner has taken over again. Why didn’t they let him do the Christmas special?

Chen’s wisecrack about Trantis finally getting his chance to contribute to the Time Destructor, just before the Daleks use him as a guinea pig, is very amusing, and when Chen pleads with the Daleks for clemency, claiming he mined the taranium from Uranus (pronounced the old school way), we can’t stop giggling.

However, when the Daleks announce their intention to chase the Doctor through time and space to get the real core back, Sue groans.

Sue: Haven’t we been here before? Is this why Terry Nation gets an ‘idea by’ credit on this? It’s exactly the same idea as the last Dalek story he wrote! The barefaced cheek of the man.

The TARDIS arrives slap bang in the middle of a cricket match.

Sue: Not another comedy interlude. Surely not?
Me: I’m afraid so. This is the New Year’s Day Special. No walls are broken, although credibility is stretched to breaking point.
Sue: I can’t wait for the TV schedules to get back to normal. This is weird.

The Daleks request a time and space machine from Skaro so they can give chase. Five minutes later, it arrives.

Sue: Why didn’t they programme it to arrive one second after they requested it? Why do you have to wait for it if it’s a fucking time machine?

She’s even more disparaging when it turns out the Daleks’ time ship requires a lengthy countdown before it can take off.

Sue: What a wimpy sound effect. Their time machine is rubbish.

The Doctor arrives on the planet Tigus, and Sue is disappointed when I tell her that it isn’t run by super-intelligent tigers.
And then something rather remarkable happens.

Sue: Oh look, it’s that Monk fella! I like him. This could actually be interesting, now.

Sue enjoys the Monk’s stand-off with the Doctor, and it amuses her that his thirst for petty revenge has come at a really inconvenient moment when the Doctor is already in the middle of an adventure. In fact, the Doctor only manages to escape from the Monk’s trap with the help of his ring.

Sue: That was clever.
Me: Clever? It makes no sense at all!
Sue: The Doctor’s ring is basically his sonic screwdriver at this point. You don’t seem to have a problem with that.
Me: Well I do, actually. But let’s save that conversation for another time.

The Monk isn’t pleased when the Doctor rejoins our story already in progress, and Sue is tickled by what she regards as another insane interlude in a wider, ongoing narrative involving inept Daleks.

Sue: Does the Monk keep coming back throughout the series to get his own back on the Doctor? That would be funny.
Me: Who would you get to play him if the Monk came back today?
Sue: Ronnie Corbett.

GOLDEN DEATH

Oh, how things have changed. There was a time when Sue would instigate our daily dose of Doctor Who, usually with a burst of cheery optimism and an open mind. Sure, she wobbled a bit on Vortis, and things got a little rough during ‘Galaxy Snore’, but they were a breeze compared to the mind-crushing tedium of The Daleks’ Master Plan.

Me: Come on, Sue, it’s time for Doctor Who.
Sue: Do we have to? Can’t we watch two episodes tomorrow instead?
Me: We have to watch two episodes tonight. We had yesterday off, remember?
Sue: Oh yeah. So we did.
Me: If we don’t watch it, we’ll have to watch three episodes tomorrow, and I don’t think I can handle that.
Sue: Will you rub my feet, then?

And there you go. It took until the ninth episode of The Daleks’ Master Plan for the horse-trading to begin. I am doomed from this point on.

Sue: I tell you what, every time Terry Nation’s name appears in the credits, you have to rub my feet. Okay?
Me: I’ll massage one foot – he only has a ‘story idea’ credit.

The Doctor is shocked when the Daleks turn up, en masse, in Egypt.

Sue: This is so drawn out, even the Doctor can’t believe he’s in the same story.

But even she’s gobsmacked when the Monk turns up shortly afterwards.

Sue: I thought he was a bit of one-off padding. I didn’t realise he was a major part of the plot. Not that I’m complaining.

The Monk’s TARDIS can change its appearance and at one point it turns into a motorcycle.

Sue: That isn’t very practical. How would you get in and out of it?

When Sara and Steven are arrested for being tomb raiders (and Sara certainly looks the part), Sue is convinced we’re about to get embroiled in a historical, like The Aztecs, only this time the Daleks will keep getting in the way of history running its course. So when the poor Egyptians are left to fend for themselves as the shit hits the fan, Sue is appalled by the Doctor’s lack of interest in the indigenous population. And when Sara and Steven escape via an elaborate fight scene, Peter Purves makes it sound especially gruesome.

Sue: Sara doesn’t muck about, does she? It’s very Avengers, this, isn’t it? We’ve never really seen a kick-ass quality in a female companion before. I like it.

The episode concludes with a cliffhanger which involves a mummy emerging from a tomb.

Sue: Please don’t tell me it’s another theme park ride.

ESCAPE SWITCH

We’re back in the realm of moving images again.

Sue: Now that we can see Camfield’s direction, I’m beginning to wonder if the rest of the episodes were actually rather good, and not incredibly boring after all.

She’s right. There’s a stunningly effective moment where Camfield dissolves from a shot of a dazzling sun to the reflection in the dome of a Dalek which leaves us both speechless, and you can’t translate something like that via a recon, no matter how hard Peter Purves tries.

Sue: Someone should release this episode as a recon, and then we’d know if it was just as boring as the rest of them. Because now that it’s moving again, I’m actually quite impressed.
Me: Mavic Chen finger action can liven up even the dullest scene.
Sue: Look at his hands-on-hip cockiness. He is so dead.

Chen is so cocky, he even slaps a Dalek’s eyestalk at one point, which is simply hilarious. In fact, Chen, as written by Dennis Spooner, is a delight. And when you put him in a room with Peter Butterworth, well, it’s comedy gold.

Sue: The Monk is far cleverer than the Doctor. He’s got a better costume for a start.
Me: What?
Sue: He can blend in easier. You could go anywhere in a robe like that, and nobody would ever bat an eyelid. The Doctor looks out of place everywhere he goes.

Something that comes in for particular praise in this episode (and it’s a detail that would have been completely lost in a recon), is just how skilled the Dalek operators are. At one point the Daleks have to enter through an incredibly narrow doorway, with less than half an inch of clearance on each side, and not only do they manage it, they turn around and go back through it again! Sue is on the edge of her seat by this point, and she actually cheered when the set didn’t wobble.

She’s even more surprised when the Doctor admits he’s given the real taranium core to the Daleks, and he didn’t have a plan beyond agreeing to their demands.

Sue: There was a time when I wouldn’t have been surprised if the Doctor had left Steven and Sara to their fate. But that seems unthinkable now.
Me: I can’t believe Chen hasn’t entertained the possibility he’s just been handed another fake core.

It’s anti-climatic, especially after everything we’ve been through. But there is an upside: the Doctor has nicked the Monk’s directional thingamajig, which means he can nip back to Kembel and stop the Daleks before they carry out their nefarious plans. Probably.

Sue: Finally! So now the Doctor can steer his TARDIS. It’s about bloody time!

The result of the Doctor’s meddling (geddit?) is that the Monk steps into the Doctor’s shoes as is left to wander aimlessly through time and space like a lost puppy dog.

Sue: I’d rather follow a series called The Monk at this point. It’d be a lot funnier. I hope he comes back soon.

And then Hartnell goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like ‘Magic Chen’.

Sue: What a shame. Then again, he is magic, our Chen.

THE ABANDONED PLANET

Sue: I don’t believe it...

That’s right, the Monk’s directional thingamy whatsit has burnt itself out. Sue isn’t pleased; just when she thought the Doctor could finally ‘drive’ his TARDIS properly. However, as luck would have it, it worked long enough to get him back to Kembel.

Sue: How big is Kembel?
Me: That’s a good point. They could have landed hundreds of miles away from the Daleks’ base. That would be funny.
Sue: They won’t have. It’ll be 200 yards away. It’s always 200 yards away.

Two hundred yards away, Mavic Chen is lording it up at a meeting of the galactic council.

Sue: Chen is so stupid, he doesn’t realise he’s been betrayed by the Daleks. If the Daleks had a sense of humour, they’d be laughing their heads off by now. What a numpty.
Me: He’s a bizarre character – part-Blofeld, part-Basil Fawlty. I think he knows he’s been betrayed, but he’s so insane, he’s actually trying to convince himself he’s still in control of the situation. I almost feel sorry for the sociopath.

Chen is so unhinged, he murders a delegate who doesn’t address the chair correctly. That definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

Me: Aww, poor Gearon. I’ll miss Gearon. Gearon was my favourite.
Sue: Are you taking the piss?
Me: Yes.
Sue: Good.
Me: I like Beaus best.

When Sara and Steven arrive at the Dalek base, only to find it completely deserted, Sue comes up with an interesting theory.

Sue: Perhaps they’ve landed in the wrong time zone. Maybe they’re too late and the universe has already been invaded, or maybe they’re too early and nothing has actually happened yet.
Me: They might loop back on themselves.
Sue: That doesn’t bear thinking about.

When Steven learns that Mavic Chen is being held prisoner (“I think the penny’s finally dropped for Chen”), he gets very tetchy indeed.

Sue: I can’t remember the last time Steven didn’t sound like he was itching to get into an argument with somebody. He needs to chill out a bit. He can be very intense, sometimes.
Me: He’s great, though, don’t you think?
Sue: Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s very good. I don’t understand why he gave up acting to become a TV presenter.
Me: Maybe Doctor Who sucked his passion for the craft out of him.
Sue: Actually, that makes perfect sense.

Against his better judgement, Steven allows the duplicitous delegates to escape from captivity so they can warn their respective governments that they tried – and failed – to sell the entire universe out to the Daleks. He even sets Mavic Chen free – apparently he’s the only person who can warn the Earth that the Daleks are about to murder everyone, thanks to all that taranium ore he mined from Uranus when no one was looking. We bet that will go down well with the electorate.

And then his spar explodes.

Sue: Chen wasn’t on that ship. They wouldn’t kill him off-screen. He’ll be back. That reminds me, Hartnell’s been gone a long time.
Me: He must be on holiday again.
Sue: That’s odd, he was there for the first five minutes. Perhaps he snuck in a weekend break.

Chen’s break from the action is even shorter – he faked his own death so he could persuade the Daleks (who’ve moved to another base down the road) that he’s still working with them. We’re intrigued enough to press on with the final episode; the summit is within sight and we can’t give up now.

DESTRUCTION OF TIME

Sue: Twelve parts. Twelve. Bloody. Parts.
Me: Thirteen, if you count Mission to the Unknown.
Sue: I’m guessing this is a one-off and we’ll never have to sit through anything over six parts ever again? Yes?
Me: Don’t worry, love, there are whole seasons of Doctor Who that are only one episode longer than this story.
Sue: Really? That makes me feel a little better. I mean, it’s nearly May and we’re still on William Hartnell!
Me: Hartnell made loads of episodes; only Tom Baker beats him. It will get easier, I swear.

It may have taken them 12 episodes, but they’ve definitely saved the best till last. To put it bluntly, this one blew our socks off.

It begins predictably enough – the Daleks are sick of Chen’s antics but Chen is too far gone to realise that the game is up.

Sue: The Daleks should draw him a diagram.

The Daleks take the piss the only way they know how – they blank him. Chen loses his cool and he fires at the Dalek Supreme. The Dalek Supreme isn’t amused, and despite making it as far as a nearby corridor (“I almost want him to get away”), Chen is unceremoniously exterminated.

This distraction provides Steven and Sara with the opportunity they need to reunite with the Doctor, who immediately picks up the Time Destructor...

Sue: He’s going to bluff the Daleks with it.

... and switches it on.

Sue: What?!

Using a Dalek as a shield, the Doctor orders Steven and Sara to return to the TARDIS as hell begins to break loose.

Me: How intense is this?
Sue: Very.

The Doctor manages to delay the Daleks, giving his friends the time they need to escape, but Sara decides to stay behind. Oh no!

Sue: Why doesn’t the Doctor age as quickly as Sara? He’s a lot closer to the Time Destructor than she is.
Me: He’s an alien. He ages slower.
Sue: Of course he does. So when does he pull his finger out and save Sara, then? This isn’t a good look for her.

And then – in what has to be the single most horrific thing we’ve witnessed in the series so far – Sara ages to death.

Me: To lose one companion is careless. But to lose two companions in one story...
Sue: She’s not dead. You’re winding me up again.
Me: I’m not, I swear. She’s dead.
Sue: Bloody hell.
Me: So, was Sara Kingdom a companion?
Sue: Well, if whatshername was.
Me: Katarina.
Sue: Yes, her. Well, if she’s counted as a companion, Sara must be one too. She did loads more stuff – she spoke in complete sentences for a start. She travelled in time more than Katarina ever did. And she saved the Doctor’s life at the end.
Me: When was that, then?
Sue: She went back for him.
Me: So what? All she did was die for her troubles. If she’d listened to the Doctor, she’d still be alive now.
Sue: I suppose so. But at least she died trying to save the Doctor’s life. I liked her. She counts. Hey! Hang on a minute – has Steven saved the day by flipping a switch that’s put the machine into reverse?
Me: Yes.
Sue: Why didn’t the Doctor do that five minutes ago?!

As Peter Purves’ narration reaches fever pitch, Sue crumples her nose and wonders if the horror he’s describing could have been realised on a BBC budget. Daleks being twirled around in a whirlwind of detritus before imploding back into childhood? Really?

Sue: It probably looked terrible.
Me: Douglas Camfield is still directing this.
Sue: In that case, it probably looked incredible. Maybe this is where all the money went. It would explain a lot.
Me: Of all the missing episodes, this is the one I want to see recovered the most.
Sue: Not The Tenth Planet Episode 4?
Me: Forget The Tenth Planet Episode 4. This is much more interesting. I never realised the final episode was so intense. I really wish we could see it.

When the dust finally settles, Steven recites the names of the dead. It’s chilling stuff.

Me: And it’s finally over. The Daleks’ Master Plan. Beat you, cock.
Sue: I feel like I’ve accomplished something. Do I get a badge?
Me: Actually, I do have some epaulettes to go with your Sara Kingdom cat suit.
Sue: Stop it.

THE SCORE

This is where things get complicated. This story was so long, Sue can’t remember what she thinks about it any more.

Sue: I don’t really know. It’s impossible to give it a single mark. Three out of 10, maybe? Is that too harsh? Four out of 10? The Monk was good, I suppose. Is six out of 10 too high? I mean... that bit on the film set. Oh dear. And it didn’t half go on. It could have been a tight six-parter. Maybe four out of 10? The last episode could have been a seven or an eight. Oh, it’s complicated.

She gets her calculator out.

Sue: Okay, I think it’s fair to say that some of it was rubbish and some of it was very good. I’ll have to split it down the middle, just to be fair.

5/10

COMMENT: “Five out of 10? FIVE?!” – BWT

NOTES: I posted this entry over three separate blogs (Parts one to four, five to 10 and 11 to 12). I thought we wouldn’t be seen online for months if we didn’t. In the end, it took us a little over a week, but what a week.

What surprises me now, reading it back, is that I didn’t question the fact Sue recognised the Brigadier. I guess it’s the same reason she knows Jon Pertwee tootled around in a yellow roadster, and Tom Baker wore a long scarf.

Another thing that strikes me about this entry is that it introduces several tropes that will become more and more frequent as the blog goes on: I’m assaulted with a cushion, Sue complains about people leaving the TARDIS doors open, the refrain “Terry fucking Nation” makes its first – but definitely not last – appearance, foot-rubs become legal tender, and I pretend a major character has popped his clogs when he clearly hasn’t, for a laugh. In fact, this is probably the point at which the blog really becomes the blog.

THE MASSACRE OF ST BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE

BLOGGED: 26 April 2011

WAR OF GOD

Sue: Can we watch the new Matt Smith episode again instead?
Me: No.
Sue: But I need to discuss my River Song theory with you.
Me: I’m not falling for that old chestnut, Sue. Come on, we have to crack on. Do you want to be stuck in the 1960s forever?
Sue: Okay, so what’s this one called?
Me: I can’t tell you. Even the fans can’t agree on an umbrella title for this story. The title we used to use is technically incorrect, and while the truncated version is definitely better, it’s still a massive spoiler. It’s probably best you don’t know. Let’s call it ‘War of God’ and we’ll see if it catches on.
Sue: I wish I hadn’t asked now. Oh well, as long as it isn’t 12 episodes, I don’t care what it’s called.

Sue is devastated when Terry Nation’s name fails to appear in the titles.

Sue: Damn. I was looking forward to a foot-rub.

The Doctor and Steven have arrived in 16th-century France.

Sue: Is this a historical?
Me: Yes.
Sue: A proper historical, without any time-travelling aliens?

If I tell her to wait and see, she’ll only waste an episode looking for the Meddling Monk, and we’re going to have enough trouble dealing with someone who looks like a Time Lord in a habit as it is.

Me: Yes. Yes, it is.

I suddenly remember Eric Thompson is in this story, and I’m about to engage Sue in one of our little games, when I instinctively decide against it – she’s going to need her wits about her if she’s to concentrate on this recon. In the end, I’m glad I didn’t, because once you realise it’s him, it’s impossible not to hear Dougal, Florence and Zebedee in various states of distress whenever Gaston opens his mouth.

Sue: This isn’t very funny, is it?
Me: I don’t think it’s supposed to be funny.
Sue: Really? I thought that’s what Doctor Who did now: amusing romps with famous historical figures.

The Romans and The Myth Makers (and, to a certain extent, The Time Meddler) have set a jolly precedent for Sue, so she’s crestfallen when the tone word for this story turns out to be ‘glum’.

While the Doctor visits an elderly scientist, Steven gets embroiled in a complicated plot involving the Protestant Huguenots and the dastardly Catholics.

Sue: Steven is such a bloke, isn’t he? He’s got the whole of Paris to explore but he’d rather spend the day in the pub.

Sue begins to fidget as the episode draws to a close, but then a left field cliffhanger throws her for a loop.

Sue: Eh? Is that the Doctor?
Me: That would be telling.
Sue: At least it’s an interesting plot development.
Me: Here’s something that may interest you – that was the very first episode of Doctor Who to be directed by a woman.
Sue: That’s fabulous. Now if only I could see her direction, I might be able comment on it.

THE SEA BEGGAR

Sue: I know what’s missing.
Me: Aside from the moving images, you mean?
Sue: Peter Purves’ narration.

She’s right. The Loose Canon recon is superb – we can even watch it on our plasma TV without flinching – but we’re used to hearing Peter Purves filling in the blanks. And there are plenty of them to fill. There’s even a half-arsed sword fight that takes place in complete silence.

Me: Don’t worry, we’ll watch the next episode with a synced copy of the remastered soundtrack tomorrow night. It may help.

And then, approximately six minutes in, our experiment reaches a very important milestone.

Sue falls asleep

It was the absence of confused questioning, especially when Hartnell reappeared as the Abbot, which finally alerted me to her slumber. That and the snoring.

Sue blames the usual suspects: the warm weather, the late start time (it was nearly midnight before we began), even the bath she’d had earlier. Apparently, when your core temperature reaches a certain point, and you quickly cool it down again – in other words, when you emerge from a hot bath – you become very susceptible to the advances of Morpheus. It’s something to do with your body conserving energy, or maybe it’s a hibernation instinct. Either way, never let it be said you never learn anything new when you read this blog. Try it yourself the next time you find yourself suffering from a bout of insomnia – it’s quicker than Galaxy 4 and a lot more fun.

Incredibly, Sue didn’t blame the recon for her little snooze, although she did admit it probably didn’t help.

Sue: We’ll have to watch it tomorrow. I’m sorry.

When we re-started the episode the next day, I synced the remastered soundtrack – featuring the ever-dependable Peter Purves – to Loose Canon’s excellent visuals.

Peter Purves: The Massacre of St Bartholomew’s Eve episode two...
Me: Bollocks.
Sue: So everyone dies at the end?
Me: Double bollocks.

As the plot thickens, I can sense Sue’s growing discontentment.

Sue: I might be a bit thick but I haven’t got a clue what’s going on here. Who are these people? Am I supposed to know what the political situation is in France at this moment in time? Do I have to read Wikipedia before we continue?
Me: Don’t worry, I think we’re supposed to identify with Steven’s confusion.

Because this is a recon, Steven looks permanently confused. There’s one puzzled expression in particular that’s repeatedly used to illustrate his bemusement, and it reassures us both it’s perfectly okay to be baffled. So I baffle my wife some more.

Me: What do you think of the new companion?
Sue: (Pointing at Anne) She’s the new companion?
Me: Of course she is. Haven’t you worked out how this show works yet? Either they replace a departing companion in the same story, like when Steven took over from Ian at the end of The Chase, or they do it in the next one, like when Vicki replaced Susan. That’s how it works.
Sue: Her accent will probably get on my nerves after a while. We’ll have to wait and see. What’s her name again?
Me: Anne. Anne Chaplet.
Sue: No, sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.

PRIEST OF DEATH

Sue: Why is the Doctor pretending to be a monk? Has he got Meddling Monk envy?
Me: He isn’t the Doctor.
Sue: What do you mean, “He isn’t the Doctor”? Don’t be ridiculous.
Me: William Hartnell isn’t playing the Doctor this week.
Sue: You could have fooled me! He looks and sounds exactly like him!
Me: Yes, but...
Sue: And if it isn’t him, what’s the point? Are we supposed to believe the Doctor just happens to be the spitting-double of the bad guy? What are the chances of that?
Me: I shouldn’t have told you. I’ve spoilt it for you.
Sue: I would have found out sooner or later. It’s a stupid idea. It doesn’t matter when I find out about it.
Me: The thing is, I think we’re supposed to know he isn’t the Doctor. At the beginning of the story, someone outside the tavern recognises him, which implies the Doctor must look like somebody in the vicinity. Secondly, William Hartnell is credited as the Abbot, not the Doctor. The last time he impersonated somebody in historical France, he wasn’t credited as the person he was impersonating, was he? And finally, he might not be playing the part exactly the same way.
Sue: What a load of rubbish. He sounds exactly like the Doctor!
Me: Yes, but we only have his voice to go on. Did he move his hands differently, for example? You know what Hartnell is like with his hands. And to be fair, he does sound like a different man on a couple of occasions.
Sue: I’m not convinced. It’s a stupid and pointless twist.

Oh dear. I think I’ve broken The Massacre.

BELL OF DOOM

We decide to crack on (“Let’s get this over with”), but Sue is lost to us now. She can’t keep up with who’s who (“Is he the king? No? Okay, so is he the king?” – and repeat), and she only becomes engaged in the plot again when Catherine de’ Medici reveals herself to be one bad Queen Mother.

And then the Doctor turns up.

Sue: He’d better have a bloody good reason for leaving Steven in the lurch like that.

She almost explodes when the Doctor brushes the affair under the carpet, claiming he was held up somewhere.

Sue: Held up? HELD UP? Is that all he’s got to say? He’s been gone for DAYS!
Me: It is a little odd.
Sue: A little odd? It’s a cop-out!

The Doctor wants to know the date. When Anne tells him, he becomes very flustered indeed.

Sue: Is that date supposed to mean something to me?
Me: Not unless you’re David Starkey.
Sue: I’m guessing that all the Huguenots will be massacred during the celebration of St Bartholomew. Am I right?
Me: What a bloody good guess.

When the TARDIS escapes from Paris, leaving Anne behind, Sue punches me in the arm.

Sue: They didn’t replace Sara. It’s still just the two of them. You lied to me.
Me: Did I?

Steven has an almighty row with the Doctor about leaving Anne behind to die (and quite right too), and when the TARDIS lands in 1960s London, Steven storms off in a huff.

Sue: I thought the Doctor couldn’t steer the TARDIS?
Me: HE CAN’T!
Sue: So it’s just a coincidence that we’re back on contemporary Earth where Steven lives?
Me: Steven is an astronaut from the future!
Sue: Oh yes, so he is. In that case, he’ll be back in a minute.

And then Hartnell delivers one of his best (and probably least known) soliloquies as he’s left to contemplate his fate. He is companionless for the very first time and it’s a heartbreaking scene. Sue and I both agree that it’s probably Hartnell’s finest moment so far, and it’s frustrating that we don’t get to see it. We especially enjoy the way he forgets, and then corrects, Ian’s surname.

And then, just as the episode threatens to wallow in its own self-pity, a young Mancunian girl barges into the TARDIS.

Sue: Who the hell is this? And why isn’t she surprised to be standing in a box that’s bigger on the inside? Is she tripping?

Steven comes rushing back – apparently the police are on his tail – and the Doctor dematerialises the TARDIS without a moment’s thought.

Sue: He’s just kidnapped a girl from Wimbledon Common. Does anyone have a problem with this?
Me: I told you we’d get a new companion.
Sue: Okay, so what’s this one called?
Me: Dodo.
Sue: Fuck off!

Dodo is short for Dorothea Chaplet, which convinces Steven and the Doctor that she could be related to Anne.

Sue: Oh, FUCK OFF! She’s as dead as a -
Me: Please, don’t.
Sue: So the Doctor will only pick up women who remind him of Susan, eh? I bet Anne wishes she’d cut her hair now. Probably as they sliced her head off and stuck it on a pike.

THE SCORE

Sue: I didn’t like that one at all. They should have sent Hartnell on holiday if they wanted Steven to have an adventure on his own. I still can’t get over why they had to confuse what was already a very confusing story with that stupid bloody twist.
Me: But those five minutes before Dodo arrived...
Sue: Yes, they were great, but they don’t make up for the other 90. What a waste.

2/10

COMMENT: “Sue’s definitely lost it.” – BWT

NOTES: Total strangers have been known to come up to Sue, just so they can tell her she’s completely wrong about The Massacre of St Bartholomew’s Eve. She smiles, nods, tells them she doesn’t know what they’re talking about, and then calls for security.

Hartnell’s soliloquy was relatively unknown until it became a pivotal moment in Mark Gatiss’ An Adventure in Space and Time. A tear-jerking analysis of this drama can be found in the Extras section of this book.

THE ARK

BLOGGED: 29 April 2011

THE STEEL SKY

I’ve told Sue that The Ark is only two episodes long. I hope the risk to my personal safety is worth it.

Sue: At last, moving images again. And only two episodes as well. This should be a walk in the park.

The first thing we have to contend with is a Monoid.

Sue: That’s very sinister. Where’s its mouth?
Me: It doesn’t have a mouth.
Sue: It had better not talk, then. If I ever hear one talking, I’ll be very disappointed.

The second thing we have to contend with is even weirder: Dodo’s exuberant exit from the TARDIS (“It has such a reassuring sound, don’t you think?” – the TARDIS, not Dodo).

Sue: What on earth is she wearing? Have we missed an episode? Was she wearing that outfit under her coat or did she change into it? Was she on her way to a fancy dress party or an appointment with a psychiatrist when she bumped into the Doctor? They’re the only possibilities I can come up with that make any sense.
Me: Go with the latter. Throw in multiple personalities if you like.
Sue: She doesn’t sound very Mancunian this week.
Me: Exactly.

It turns out Dodo has raided the TARDIS wardrobe.

Sue: So she did change into that ridiculous costume! What was going through her mind when she chose it? And why change into anything at all? And what were Steven and the Doctor doing while this was going on? It doesn’t make any sense! Hang on, did she just switch her accent in the middle of a sentence? Unbelievable. Oh, that’s a nice high-angle shot.

You’ll be pleased to know my wife fell for Michael Imison’s trap. Yes, she thought the episode’s elephant was the result of some cleverly integrated stock footage.

Sue: That almost works. The split screen effect is quite good, actually. I like this director. He’s trying.
Me: The elephant is in the room!
Sue: Oh yes, so it is.
Me: Isn’t it amazing? It’s a REAL ELEPHANT! You must be impressed, surely?
Sue: It isn’t that impressive. Didn’t Blue Peter have an elephant that pooed all over their studio floor? Wasn’t Peter Purves involved in that as well? It’s nice and everything, but I don’t see what the big deal is. Unless the elephant plays a pivotal role in the story.
Me: Well, er...
Sue: What a waste of money.

Sue is amused by the Monoids’ unique method of communication.

Sue: Their sign language is very advanced. The one-eyed thing waved his hand a bit and the human translated it into four very detailed sentences. Amazing.

When the Guardians provide the Doctor – and us – with a massive info-dump, Sue immediately spots the logical flaw.

Sue: If the voyage to this new planet takes them 700 years, they will be dead long before they get there, yes? Well, how come the criminals get to sleep through the really shit bit? They are shrunk, put into storage, and then wake up centuries later to reap all the rewards. It doesn’t seem fair to me.

Before we can get into that (and it is an excellent point), the Ark’s crew are suddenly stuck down by the flu.

Sue: Oh, brilliant! Not only is Dodo really annoying, she’s going to kill everyone as well. Is she cursed? Is this why she’s called Dodo? Does every species she comes into contact with become extinct? Is that her gimmick?

THE PLAGUE

Sue: I still don’t see what these Monoid creatures are bringing to the plot. They’re just there to do the light filing and heavy lifting.

A Monoid corpse is blasted into space, and Sue’s impressed when we see the body fly out of the airlock.

Sue: That was pretty good, actually. They didn’t need to show that – they could have cut away. The director is definitely trying his best.

The Doctor, Steven and Dodo are accused of being spies, sent by the planet they’re currently travelling to (“Didn’t anyone bother to check if the natives were friendly before they left?”). Steven volunteers to defend them at a hastily arranged trial.

Sue: Is Steven really the best person for this? Shouldn’t the Doctor be stepping up to the plate at this point? Steven will just shout at them.

And then Steven comes down with the flu himself, which, as far as Sue is concerned, makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Luckily, the main Guardian, who’s watching the Ark’s equivalent of Sky News from his sickbed, gains enough strength to stop everyone from being flushed out of the airlock. He then gives the Doctor an opportunity to find a vaccine to the virus and, er, he does!

Sue: That was a bit quick. Is that it?
Me: Looks that way.
Sue: Is that the Earth blowing up?
Me: Yes it is.
Sue: A tennis ball on fire? That’s the Earth blowing up?
Me: Well...
Sue: What an anti-climax. I know it looks a bit shit, but shouldn’t somebody make a speech or something? It’s only the Earth blowing up! No? Oh.
Me: What mark are you going to give this one?

Sue shrugs.

Sue: It was short. That’s something, I guess. The direction was pretty good – it’s just a shame the camera operators weren’t up to the task; they kept banging into things. Although, to be fair, sometimes the director didn’t cut away when he should. This scene with the Monoid driving an airport luggage buggy away at a snail’s pace is a perfect example. And the bit in episode one, where Steven almost suffocated Dodo, is another. But the main problem I have with this story is that it didn’t go anywhere. What was the point of it all? But it was enjoyable enough, I suppose, so I’ll give it:

5/10

And then the TARDIS rematerialises.

Sue: Not another fucking jungle! They are really getting their money’s worth from this set.

And then the Doctor drops a bombshell: they have returned to the Ark.

Sue: Eh? What’s going on?

The Ark is completely deserted. But that’s not all. A statue which was supposed to take centuries to build has suddenly been completed.

Sue: Oh that’s clever, they’ve gone forward in time.

And it has the head of a Monoid!

Sue: Ooh. That’s very clever... Hang on a minute...
Me: Ouch!
Sue: You told me this story was only two episodes long!
Me: Ouch! Stop hitting me! I’m sorry, love, but the twist only works if you don’t expect it. The audience in 1966 -
Sue: Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s very Lost, actually. It’s just the sort of mind-fuck they’d try. Oh well, I suppose two more episodes of this isn’t the end of the world.
Me: No, we’ve already seen that.
Sue: But you have to promise never to do that to me again. I like to know how many episodes I’m facing so I can mentally prepare myself, you git.
Me: Ouch!

THE RETURN

The Ark has become a place where the one-eyed homicidal maniac is king.

Sue: You can’t blame them. The humans had it coming. If I’d been enslaved for 700 years, I’d be pissed off as well.

The Doctor, Dodo, and a Monoid are sent to the planet below to scout around, while Steven is made to stew in the security kitchen. Or is he sent to make stew in the security kitchen? It’s unclear.

Sue: A security kitchen? I’m sorry, a what kitchen?
Me: The Monoids really like their cakes.
Sue: And how do they eat this cake, exactly? I can’t see a mouth for them to put any food into.
Me: Yes, I know. It really doesn’t bear thinking about.

When a Monoid enters the kitchen – for a nice potato salad perhaps – the prisoners/sous chefs agree with Sue’s exasperated suggestion that they should all jump him. After all, his peripheral vision is probably rubbish.

Sue: Just poke him in the eye!

Sadly, the Monoids gain the upper hand and an innocent waiter is shot dead. Steven is really pissed off about this, but that’s just par for the course for Steven.

Sue: He needs to take some Valium.

Meanwhile, on the planet Refusis II, the Doctor finally meets a Refusian, who is – wait for it – invisible!

Sue: They must have run out of money. They must have spent it all on the elephant.

The Refusian is only brought out of hiding when a Monoid throws some flowers on the floor and threatens to smash a vase. Yes, really. The Refusian explains his people have built a lovely city for the new arrivals to live in and Sue is touched by their hospitality.

Sue: Aw, that was nice of them.

And then the Refusians show another side to their nature by blowing up a Monoid before he can warn his comrades to bring plenty of vases with them when they take over the planet.

Sue: That’s gotta hurt.

THE BOMB

There’s a bomb on the Ark (“I’d have put it in the statue’s ball”) and it feels like we’re watching a deadly version of pass-the-parcel.

Sue: I think Steven’s pulled.
Me: I think he’s got another bang to worry about first.

Civil war breaks out between the Monoids as pods start landing in the jungle.

Sue: It looks like they’re dropping buckets from a ladder. Having said that, he’s really trying, this director. It’s almost heroic.

The bomb is neutralised when a Refusian picks up the statue and chucks it out the airlock. This implies that the Refusians must be MASSIVE!

Sue: This is a bit too religious for me. First of all, you’ve got the whole Noah’s Ark business going on, but then this lot arrive in Eden and they have to agree to live with these omnipotent beings hovering around. These Gods will be looking over their shoulders the whole time. Breeding is going to be a big problem.
Me: Matt Smith should return to this planet a few generations later to find a really paranoid, half-mad civilisation who can’t get a moment’s peace from this benevolent race of incredibly creepy aliens who can’t stop building furniture for them.
Sue: I’d quite like that.

Back on the TARDIS, Steven and Dodo decide to change into some fab and groovy gear (a big improvement, according to Sue), but that’s not all. The Doctor is fading in and out of existence.

Sue: Is this it? Is he regenerating?
Me: No.
Sue: Oh.

THE SCORE

Sue: That wasn’t too bad. I liked the story. I liked the direction. Hartnell was on good form as well. But the Monoids let it down. They were too silly for words.

6/10

COMMENT: “Glad to see Sue has wasted no time picking up on the general rubbishness of Dodo. Good luck with the next one.” – Matt Bartley

THE CELESTIAL TOYMAKER

BLOGGED: 5 May 2011

THE CELESTIAL TOYROOM

Sue: Is there anything I should know about this before we begin?
Me: Well, a new producer has taken over the reins. He’s called Innes Lloyd and he’ll stick around a lot longer than the last one did. Another interesting fact is the Doctor Who Appreciation Society named their monthly magazine after the title of this episode.
Sue: Oh, in that case it must be good.

And that’s as positive as it gets as far as The Celestial Toymaker is concerned. If you like this story, even just a little bit, you should probably stop reading now.

Sue: Where the hell are we? Is this Earth?
Me: No.
Sue: So has the Doctor met this bloke before? When was that, then?
Me: We don’t witness their first encounter. The Doctor must have a series of adventures before we meet him. This is supposed to be a grudge match. Just go with it.

The premise is simple – our heroes have to pit their wits against a series of deadly games in an environment that doesn’t actually exist. Or, as Sue succinctly puts it:

Sue: It isn’t exactly Tron, is it?

While the Doctor is pitted against the deadly Trilogic Game (which sounds impressive but looks like a clunky iPhone app), Steven and Dodo are bothered by some clowns. One of them is played by Carmen Silvera, aka Renee’s wife from ‘Allo! ‘Allo!, but Sue doesn’t recognise her under her heavy disguise, and Carmen’s voice is so high, you’d be mistaken for thinking she was trying to avoid being identified on purpose.

Sue: The actor playing the Toymaker is very familiar.
Me: It’s Michael Gough. You probably know him best as Alfred the Butler from the Batman movies.
Sue: It’s funny you should say that – this story reminds me of Batman a lot.
Me: Holy macaroni with pepper jack, Susan!
Sue: I’m serious, Neil. This set – especially this obstacle course – is very comic book. The clowns remind me of the Joker, too, and it’s all a bit camp and larger than life. All we need are some WHAM! and BAM! captions when Steven falls over and we’re sorted.

The Toymaker delights in taunting his opponents.

Sue: Is the Toymaker an omnipotent Jeff Probst?
Me: Approximately three people will get that reference, love. And two of them are us. Actually, this set does remind me of the TV version of Batman.
Sue: I told you so. I’m sure it was on at the same time. It’s all coming back to me now. Yes, I’m sure I’ve seen this before.
Me: What?
Sue: I think I saw this episode when it first went out.
Me: You’re pulling my leg.
Sue: It definitely rings a bell. I think it freaked me out at the time.

And there we have it. Sue’s first memory of Doctor Who. We think. She may be confusing it with Andy Pandy. She would have been four years old at the time.

Me: This explains a lot.
Sue: If you mean this is why I never watched another episode of Doctor Who, you’re probably right.

THE HALL OF DOLLS

Sue: I’m guessing Hartnell is on holiday again this week, now that he’s invisible. How convenient. Can’t they make Dodo mute while they’re at it?
Me: They actually considered replacing William Hartnell in the middle of this story. In a nutshell, the Toymaker would have recast him, but they vetoed it. It was either that or the BBC issued Hartnell with another contract by mistake, I can’t remember the exact details.
Sue: So we wouldn’t have had a regeneration? How would they have got around that later?
Me: God only knows. Maybe they’d have got Michael Gough back when they needed to change the lead actor. It doesn’t bear thinking about.
Sue: Maybe Hartnell wasn’t on holiday, after all. Maybe he was off sick on the stress. Did he know that they wanted to get rid of him?
Me: I think he believed he was indispensable at this point. It’s very sad, actually.

Even Sue feels bad for Hartnell, and she can’t wait to see the back of him.

The next game sent to vex Steven and Dodo involves a series of deadly chairs, sentient playing cards, and massive dolls.

Me: I bet this isn’t the first time Steven’s had his hands on a life-sized doll.
Sue: This is getting very repetitive; there’s nothing to talk about. Nothing at all.
Me: Wanna bet? Listen very carefully...

When the King of Hearts chooses a chair to sit on, he recites a well-known nursery rhyme to help him reach his decision. Or does he? The recon we have at our disposal is excellent. It doesn’t feature Peter Purves’ narration (the usual method for hiding the rhyme in question), but we still can’t hear it. The dialogue has been filtered out until the King sounds like he’s mumbling under his breath. I could (and probably should) let it go, but the resulting discussion might fill a paragraph or two.

Me: Let me play that bit again with the volume turned up. Now, really concentrate on what the King is saying... here.
Sue: NO WAY!

Yes way. It’s the n-word.

Sue: Could you say that on children’s television in 1966?
Me: No.

And while we’re on the subject...

Me: Which nationality do you think the Toymaker is?
Sue: I thought he was an alien?
Me: Okay, let’s assume that he’s taken human form – which nationality is he?
Sue: British?
Me: What if I told you the word ‘celestial’ is old slang for Chinese?
Sue: Is it really? That’s news to me. Then again, he is wearing a Chinese costume.
Me: According to Philip Sandifer’s excellent blog (you know, he’s doing the same thing as us, only seriously), this story is so racist, it should be removed from the canon.
Sue: Removed from the what?
Me: It shouldn’t count as ‘real’ Doctor Who. It’s that bad.
Sue: But celestial in this context means spacey, surely? He’s a space god. And the actor doesn’t look Chinese to me, and he doesn’t sound Chinese, either. He sounds like Alfred the Butler. And wouldn’t that mean the first episode was called ‘The Chinese Toyroom’? It didn’t look very Chinese to me. In fact, it looked British.
Me: So it isn’t racist?
Sue: Oh, it’s undeniably dodgy. They wouldn’t have had edited that dialogue if it wasn’t. I’m quite shocked, actually. Maybe there’s something to it, after all. If we agree with the other blog, and it doesn’t count, can we skip the next couple of episodes?
Me: I’ll tell you something else that’s interesting – actually, it’s the only interesting thing about this story – and that’s this: for many years, Doctor Who fans seriously believed that this was a classic.
Sue: Piss off!
Me: It’s true! Back in the day, when you couldn’t see the old episodes, not even as recons, you had to rely on the memories of the people who actually saw them when they were broadcast.
Sue: I saw it and I can confirm it was rubbish.
Me: These guys were old and wise. If they told you it was a classic, it was a classic. There was simply no way of disputing it. And then, in 1983, to celebrate the show’s 20th anniversary, a book came out that reviewed all the episodes so far. The guy who wrote about them was called Jeremy Bentham.
Sue: That name rings a bell.
Me: You’re thinking of Lost, aren’t you?
Sue: Yes! That’s it!

I sigh.

Me: That connection is far too complicated to get into now. I’ll explain later. In bed. Anyway, the other Bentham wrote this review where he said The Celestial Toymaker was bloody brilliant. And on paper, it does look pretty good – a weird godlike being who can bring toys to life (that’s very Doctor Who), who had a grudge against the Doctor, all within this surreal, dreamlike landscape. Well, it sounded fabulous, so it was easy to believe.

Sue’s gobsmacked. She can’t get her head around this.

Me: And then, in the 1990s, people finally got to see the surviving episode, and that’s when doubts began to creep in. The doubts subsequently turned to disappointment, and then the disappointment turned to loathing. I think the consensus now is that The Celestial Toymaker lies somewhere between paedophilia and genocide.
Sue: So why didn’t the fan club change the name of their magazine to something else? Now that everyone knows this is irredeemable racist shite, why don’t they call their magazine Genesis of the Daleks instead?

THE DANCING FLOOR

Me: I can’t do this.
Sue: Come on, it isn’t that bad. It’s only 20 minutes of your life you’ll never get back.
Me: I can’t. I just can’t. Do we have to?
Sue: We’ve skipped two days already. I can’t remember what happened in the last episode.
Me: Don’t worry, exactly the same thing will happen in this episode: FUCK ALL!

No, I didn’t mix up the names when I transcribed that exchange.

Steven and Dodo’s next game involves a cryptic clue (“This is very 3-2-1”), and a missing key. The action takes place in a kitchen, where two characters from a storybook have been brought to life. To bicker, mainly.

Sue: I’ve definitely seen this episode before; I can remember the soldier and the cook, Mrs Wiggins. The key is in the pie, by the way.

She’s right. Then again, the key’s location is so obvious, a four-year-old child could work it out. Actually, maybe she did.

Sue: This section is a bit like Upstairs, Downstairs. Only shit.

If there’s one thing we miss seeing with our own eyes, it’s Steven dancing.

Me: No matter how much shit they throw at Peter Purves, he always takes it on the chin.
Sue: Either this dance sequence looked really spooky or it looked really silly. Probably not as silly as So, You Think You Can Dance?, though.
Me: Or as spooky.

When the episode reaches its conclusion, I turn to Sue and notice she’s fast asleep. I don’t have the heart to wake her.

THE FINAL TEST

Moving images. Maybe this story will come alive now that we can actually see it. Maybe it really is a lost classic. And maybe Donald Trump will be president some day.

The episode pits Steven and Dodo against Billy Bunter... sorry, I mean Cyril. Calling him Billy would be tantamount to copyright infringement. But they go ahead and do it anyway.

Sue: This is just ripping off everything that was popular at the time: Billy Bunter, films like Tom Thumb, The Black and White Minstrel Show, Batman – it’s a big jumble of what I remember seeing on television when I was little.

The final test is a deadly bored game (sic). Think Battle Royale crossed with Ludo.

Me: I’ve seen more exciting games of Don’t Scare The Hare.
Sue: It’s not exactly Total Wipeout, is it?
Me: No, it’s not that bad. Yet.

And then, as if by magic, William Hartnell returns from his exile.

Sue: So in a parallel universe that’s Patrick Troughton?

Just when Dodo and Steven appear to have lost their latest game, Cyril slips up and crashes to the floor. He explodes, reverting to the form of a smouldering doll (“They set Humpty Dumpty on fire!”), although the reason given for his death is even more surreal.

Sue: Slippery powder? I’ve never heard it called that before.
Me: Some sort of powder was definitely used in the making of this story.
Sue: Why does Hartnell keep calling the Toymaker his ‘dear friend’? He’s a nutter! And the Toymaker is a few slices short of a toaster as well.
Me: The Doctor likes a challenge. Maybe he’s battled this lunatic many times before and he knows it winds him up. Just go with it.
Sue: That TARDIS over there is on a set of castors.
Me: It must be one of the Toymaker’s fakes. Oh, sorry, it’s the real TARDIS. What do you want me to say?
Sue: When do we find out who this Toymaker person really is?
Me: Well, you kinda just did.
Sue: That’s it? That’s the explanation?
Me: He’s like a god. We’ll meet more beings like him as the series progresses. Just go with it. Actually, don’t go with it. Back away from it. Slowly.

Even after the Toymaker has been dispersed (“What an amazingly crap ending”), the Doctor makes a great deal of fuss about the imminent return of his nemesis.

Me: You won’t believe this but they almost made a sequel to this story with Colin Baker and Michael Gough in the mid-‘80s. It was going to be set in Blackpool, but they cancelled it.
Sue: Thank heavens for small mercies.

And then, after what feels like months of torture, The Celestial Toymaker is finally over.

Me and Sue: YAHROO!
Me: So, do you want to say anything about Innes Lloyd?
Sue: I’m not impressed. Bring back Verity Lambert. He should watch some old episodes to see what kind of programme it is he should be making. That wasn’t exactly Doctor Who, was it? Oh, and while we’re at it, Brian Hayles can sod off as well.

THE SCORE

Sue: Well that was complete shite. Do I have to give it a mark?
Me: I’m past caring, love. Do what you like.

And then Sue gives The Celestial Toymaker the n-word. Nowt.

0/10

Me: Bentham, the guy who claimed that this story was a lost classic, described the next one as the worst Doctor Who ever made. I just thought you ought to know.
Sue: In that case, I’ll either love it to bits or this experiment is over. I can’t go through another one like that. Life’s too short.

COMMENT: “Of course, with the revelation that Sue has seen some of this before, it means that a Not-We will have seen at least two more episodes of Doctor Who than One of Us by the time the two of you reach the end.” – Matt Sharp

NOTES: If you asked Sue – right now – which classic series story she likes the least, this is the one she’ll mention, although she’ll probably call it “The Toymaker” (pretend she’s trying not to be racist). In retrospect, this story should have received a minus score, but I was vetoing them at the time, just in case I ever got around to making some graphs.

THE GUNFIGHTERS

BLOGGED: 10 May 2011

A HOLIDAY FOR THE DOCTOR

The Gunfighters begins with a song.

Sue: This is an interesting way to start an episode. We’ve never seen anything like this before.
Nicol: This isn’t Doctor Who. What is this?

Sue’s daughter watched this episode with us – the first time we’ve allowed another human being to sit in on the experiment since the Simon Harries debacle. Putting classic Doctor Who on the telly is usually Nicol’s cue to slam the lid on her laptop before heading off to her room, but this time she stayed until the end, which should tell you everything you need to know about this story.

The TARDIS has arrived in Tombstone in the year 1881 and the Doctor is looking for a dentist. It turns out that last week’s cliffhanger was actually a bad case of toothache.

Sue: Why would he look for a dentist here? Couldn’t he find a more advanced civilisation to take his tooth out?
Me: He can’t steer the TARDIS, remember? It could be months before he makes it to another town with a dentist. How many dentists do you think there were on Kembel or Desperus? And besides, if the Doctor turned up outside Harley Street in 2011, he’d still think it was primitive.

By the time our heroes stroll into town under the protection of Wyatt Earp, Sue is completely smitten with this story.

Sue: The sets are incredible, the costumes are fantastic and the direction is really impressive. I’m sold on this one already. If they keep this up, I’ll be more than happy.

The highlight of the episode is the Doctor’s encounter with Doc Holliday, who removes the time traveller’s tooth before setting him up for a fall. The comic timing is exemplary and Hartnell and Anthony Jacobs are obviously having a blast.

Sue: That’s probably the funniest scene in the series so far. Hartnell is on fire this week. He looks the part, too. His costume actually fits the period for a change.
Me: Stetsons are cool.

Look, I’m sorry, it’s obligatory.

Nicol: So is Amy Pond pregnant or not?
Me: Not now, Nic, we’re watching this.

Steven and Dodo, who seem to be treating history as an interactive theme park ride, find themselves in danger when they’re surrounded by the evil Clanton Brothers. It’s funny for all the wrong reasons.

Sue: Surely it’s supposed to be amusing when Steven puts on a bad cowboy accent, but how can that joke work when his fake accent is better than the real cowboys? Only one of them is doing it properly, and he’s showing everyone up.
Me: That’s Shane Rimmer. He’s been in everything from Thunderbirds to James Bond. He’s a living legend.

Sue suggests the episode would have been a lot better if everyone had performed it with an English accent (even Shane). I suggest the TARDIS’ telepathic circuits are probably playing up, but she doesn’t buy it.

And then, after his dancing antics last week, Peter Purves proves once again that he is a man of many talents as he belts out yet another version of ‘The Ballad of the Last Chance Saloon’. He’s pretty good, too.

Sue: Well, we’ve never seen – or heard – anything quite like that before.
Me: That’s the thing about Doctor Who – you’re never know what you’re going to get.
Sue: I like it.
Nicol: It was all right, I suppose.

Bentham must be quaking in his boots.

DON’T SHOOT THE PIANIST

The first thing Sue notices about this episode is Sheena Marsh can’t sing.

Sue: Peter Purves is singing live, but she’s miming it. Badly. So why cast her? Couldn’t they get someone who could do a bad American accent and sing?
Me: A lot of fans can’t stand this song.
Sue: Why? It’s part of the story, and it’s not as if it’s the same arrangement every time. It’s an interesting framing device. It wouldn’t work in every story, but it’s fine here.
Me: Don’t you think Mavic Chen would have benefited from his own theme song? Actually, I think part of the problem is that fans tend to watch all four episodes in one go. When you watch them individually, like we are now, the song doesn’t grate on you quite so much. And if you waited a whole week between episodes, I doubt it would be an issue at all. Anyway, you’ll never guess who’s singing it.
Sue: Petula Clarke?
Me: No, I’m serious, you’ll never guess. It’s Lynda Baron.
Sue: Is that name supposed to mean something to me?
Me: She played Nurse Gladys in Open All Hours.
Sue: How bizarre.
Me: She’s actually going to be in a Matt Smith episode of Doctor Who very soon.
Sue: She’s not going to sing, is she?

As we discuss this possibility, Shane Rimmer is killed by Doc Holliday, which is perverse when you stop to think about it.

Sue: Damn it, they’ve shot the only person with a genuine American accent!
Me: He’s Canadian.
Sue: Close enough.

JOHNNY RINGO

We decide to play a game called ‘Who’s the Worst Clanton?’ It’s a close-run thing but we eventually settle on Ike, deciding that William Hurndell is the worst actor to appear in Doctor Who so far. At one point, he changes his accent four times in the same scene. We desperately hope that somebody – anybody – will shoot him in the face, but he won’t go away.

Sue: How did this go down with the public when it went out?
Me: The viewing figures weren’t that great. About eight to seven million compared to eight and nine for The Celestial Toymaker.
Sue: What a shame. But surely the fault has to lie with the last story. Who would tune in again after watching that bollocks?
Me: Well, you didn’t.

When Dodo isn’t seen for ages, Sue jumps to a logical conclusion.

Sue: Is Dodo on holiday?
Me: She’s with Holliday but she isn’t on Holliday. Although I bet Holliday wishes she was on Holliday. Boom! Boom!

We both adore the scene where Dodo pulls a gun on Doc, out-drawing him in the process. In fact, we’re impressed by Jackie Lane’s performance in this story. She actually comes across as a real person, and you could easily imagine Karen Gillan taking a similar role if the series ever decided to return to the Wild West (which Sue and I both decide would be a great idea, just as long as they don’t shoehorn any aliens into it – the campaign for real historicals starts here).

Sue: Doc Holliday should join the TARDIS crew. He’d be a brilliant addition to the cast. I could watch this guy all day.
Me: Here’s an interesting Doctor Who fact for you: the son of the actor who plays Doc Holliday will write the Paul McGann TV movie in 30 years’ time.
Sue: Thanks. I’ll try to drop that into casual conversation next time I’m out.

When Johnny Ringo rides into town, Sue is on tenterhooks, and the tension is palpable as he strides up to the barman who looks uncannily like a demented Kevin Eldon. Will Johnny Ringo have an American accent? Go on, have a guess.

Sue: Did he ride in via London?

It’s a shame, because Laurence Payne is a superb actor. When he doesn’t open his mouth, that is.

Sue: He still sounds like Clint Eastwood compared to the Clantons. They sound like Tim Westwood.

THE OK CORRAL

Me: This is the last time we’ll see individual episode titles until 2005.
Sue: That’s a shame, but at least I won’t have to ask you what the story’s called any more.
Me: I won’t be able to hide any titular plot twists from you any more either, which is an even bigger shame. Unless you do that thing we used to do when we watched Battlestar Galactica, and you close your eyes during the title sequence.

As the plot heads towards its inevitable conclusion, Sue is perplexed by the Doctor’s actions.

Sue: Why is the Doctor trying to meddle with established history? I thought he wasn’t supposed to do that?

She’s right. The Gunfight at the OK Corral is a famous Wild West gunfight (as the song keeps reminding us) and yet the Doctor tries to stop it dead in its tracks. It flies in the face of The Aztecs, The Reign of Terror and The Massacre of St Bartholomew’s Eve. And as a result, it feels very odd indeed.

Me: If the Clantons aren’t killed, they might breed. That would be disastrous for the web of time, not to mention the women in Tombstone.

Thankfully, the Doctor fails to intervene (if anything he unintentionally helps history run its course by tipping everybody off), and Sue’s thrilled with the subsequent gunfight which takes place entirely on film.

Sue: It looks great. It’s just a shame the picture is over-exposed. Billy’s face looks like it’s melting off.
Me: We can only hope. Sadly, this is a digital copy of the VHS tape that was released about 10 years ago. This story is released on DVD in a few weeks.
Sue: We could watch it again!
Me: I beg your pardon?
Sue: I wouldn’t mind watching this one again.

As the TARDIS crew prepare to leave, Sue has nothing but praise for William Hartnell. We’ve come a long way, baby.

Sue: Hartnell was great in this one. But you can see how they are trying to minimise his role. He spends most of the story either locked up or completely useless. We didn’t see him anywhere near the gunfight. It’s a shame because he’s great when he’s given room to shine.

The episode even has the audacity to conclude with a knowing wink to its audience when the Doctor chides Dodo for succumbing to every cliché under the Wild West sun. It’s years ahead of its time.

THE SCORE

Sue: I enjoyed that. I’ll give the script 10/10, the direction 9/10 and the acting 6/10. I’ll average that out to a very respectable:

8/10

Me: A chap on a forum says he saw Jeremy Bentham at the Fitzroy Tavern last week, and he still stands by his claim that The Gunfighters is the worst Doctor Who ever made.
Sue: What a numpty.

COMMENT: “Oh man, visiting this page has got me singing that song again. I shall have it in my head all day now.” – Matthew C

NOTES: Sue mentions The Gunfighters a lot when people ask her which stories she particularly enjoyed from the classic series, although nine times out of 10 she’ll call it ‘The Gunslingers’.

When some fans suggested my wife’s comments convinced Steven Moffat to commission a story set in the Wild West (A Town Called Mercy) she in turn convinced herself that Susan the sweary horse must have been named after her. I don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise.

THE SAVAGES

BLOGGED: 15 May 2011

EPISODE 1

Sue: I miss the individual episode titles.
Me: Already? But at least you know what the story is called without having to ask.
Sue: I can’t read it properly – the background is too white. What does it say? ‘The Sky Ages’?
Me: This is proper Doctor Who. Look, we’re in a quarry.

When the Doctor wanders off to take some readings with his Reacting Vibrator (“I’m surprised that didn’t catch on instead of the sonic screwdriver”), Dodo and Steven are attacked by spear-welding savages dressed in primitive furs.

Sue: What’s the deal with the weird string music? I feel like we should be watching Frankenstein.

The Doctor is greeted by some futuristic guards who are armed with guns which look suspiciously like the telescopes you find on top of skyscrapers and beach promenades.

Sue: Do they have to put a coin in the slot if they want to shoot somebody?
Me: They must be an advanced civilisation – they’ve invented BMX helmets.

The Doctor is escorted to a city to meet the Elders. They can’t get enough of him.

Sue: It’s the Doctor Who fan club! Hartnell is in his element here. Look at him – he’s loves it when people make a fuss of him.
Me: How have this lot been tracking the Doctor through time and space? That makes no sense at all.
Sue: Is this what’s it’s like at a Doctor Who convention? Will he have to sign autographs later?

Sue is concerned all this flattery is blinding the Doctor to the truth.

Sue: He’s very naive. It’s obvious these are the bad guys and the savages are the good guys, so what’s he playing at? Blimey, he looks like he’s about to join their version of the bloody Freemasons, now!

I draw her attention towards Frederick Jaeger, who is playing the Elder’s sycophantic leader, Jano. For no readily apparent reason, he appears to have been blacked-up.

Sue: No wonder I didn’t recognise him. I thought his voice was familiar.

After trawling through IMDb, Sue pins down Frederick as the pilot who teaches Frank Spencer to fly in Some Mothers Do Have ‘Em.

Me: It doesn’t make any sense. Why black-up at all? The rest of the Elders are white.
Sue: Are you sure? I can’t tell from these photos.

Now that she mentions it, I’m not sure any more, either. At times, it looks like the cast are wearing silver or gold make-up. Or really heavy foundation. It’s difficult to tell.

Sue: Dodo is very inconsistent, isn’t she? You never know which Dodo you’ll get from one week to the next. She’s really bolshy in this one. Steven is acting out of character, too. He’s very gullible today. It’s as if their roles have been reversed.

Dodo wanders away from a guided tour of the city – like C-3PO in The Empire Strikes Back – but instead of getting her head blown off, she stumbles across a terrible secret. Yes, Sue was right – this ‘great civilisation’ is rotten to the core, and they’re performing horrific experiments on the savages, including a poor woman who looks like she’s walked off the set of One Million Years B.C.

Sue: It’s turned into a zombie film. I bet this would have been scary at the time. Even the music has improved a little. Yeah, this isn’t bad at all.

EPISODE 2

Sue: So, is this story racist or not?
Me: Well, assuming that it’s possible to black-up and not be racist, I’m still not 100 per cent sure.
Sue: But what is it trying to say? Is it that you can be an arsehole regardless of the colour of your skin? Or is he black because he’s the bad guy? Why are all the savages white? It’s got to be intentional.

We’re still scratching our heads when Dodo and Steven are reunited with the Doctor, who is still Time Lording it up with the planet’s Elders.

Me: What a complete idiot.

Sue has a lot more faith in the Doctor than I do.

Sue: Don’t be silly. He knows damn well there’s some serious shit going down in the city. He isn’t stupid. He’s just trying to be inconspicuous.

She’s right, of course. The Doctor is simply biding his time, and when he works out the Elders are sucking the life out of the so-called savages, he vows to stop them.

Sue: Hartnell’s really good here. It’s feels like the sort of thing the Doctor should be doing.

Sadly, the Elders don’t respond to the Doctor’s impassioned pleas for mercy, and he’s led away to have his life-force extracted.

Sue: Is this where he regenerates?
Me: Wait and see.

EPISODE 3

Aside from Sue’s observation that Steven has become the de facto hero of the show, there’s only one thing worthy of discussion tonight, and that’s Fredrick Jaeger’s impersonation of the Doctor.

Sue: Is he supposed to be the Doctor? Was the machine powered by magic? And if it extracts a person’s personality, why don’t the Elders walk around like miserable idiots when they transfer the savage’s life-force into them?
Me: Well...
Sue: Are they trying to get rid of Hartnell again?
Me: They’re definitely trying to sideline him again.
Sue: I never thought I’d say this, but I’m starting to feel sorry for William Hartnell.
Me: This is a very strange episode for him. All he has to do is lie on a table and fall over in a corridor.
Sue: They could have sent him on holiday. It doesn’t seem fair.
Me: Rob Shearman thinks they’re experimenting with different ways to get rid of him. A few weeks ago they made him invisible, and now he’s in a different body.
Sue: Did they seriously consider changing the lead actor to this bloke from Some Mothers Do Have ‘Em on a permanent basis?
Me: I don’t think so. They were still figuring out how they were going to do it.
Sue: I guess they couldn’t have someone blacked-up playing the Doctor. That would have been embarrassing.
Me: It’s funny you should say that. Patrick Troughton claimed in an interview that he considered playing the role blacked-up. What if he had? It would be impossible to watch his entire era, instead of semi-impossible.
Sue: What?
Me: Never mind.
Sue: Well, they’d better figure it out soon. The next story is Hartnell’s last.
Me: I never said that. I said the next story was the last in the third season.
Sue: How many seasons is Hartnell in?
Me: Four.
Sue: I hate you.

EPISODE 4

As The Savages hurtles towards its conclusion – well, I say hurtle, it’s more a gentle jog – Sue is still engaged with the storyline.

Sue: It’s a good job the Doctor didn’t land on this planet two years ago – he wouldn’t have had a conscience to give. In fact, Jano would have ended up even more intolerable than he is now.

As if to prove how much he’s changed, the Doctor is as proactive as we’ve ever seen him, electing to forgo diplomacy for sheer brute force, smashing a laboratory to pieces in the process.

Me: The ending is a little pat, but at least it’s a message of tolerance. A message of tolerance delivered by a man whose face has been blacked-up. Oh, my head hurts.
Sue: It doesn’t ring true. I don’t believe one man can convince a planet of cunts to change their minds overnight. What’s to stop them from killing Jano and rebuilding those machines again?

What they really need here is an impetuous alien to help smooth things over.

Sue: Steven isn’t going to stay, is he?
Me: Looks like it.
Sue: No! Don’t do it! He’ll be stuck there for ever. What if it all goes pear-shaped? What if he changes his mind?
Me: He was marooned on an alien planet when they found him, remember? It’s a fitting end. After all, who knows where Steven really belonged.
Sue: Poor Steven.

Brilliantly, tiny fragments of Steven’s departure have been captured on Super 8 film (including a very touching handshake with the Doctor, who is “very proud” of him), and as Steven turns away for the last time, Sue sighs.

Sue: I’ll miss Steven. He’s been holding the whole thing together for weeks now. I hope he’s all right.
Me: The Doctor could come back and see Steven one day. I just hope he isn’t blacked-up when he does.

THE SCORE

Sue: That wasn’t too bad. It was surprisingly engaging, especially for a recon. The blacking-up makes me feel a little uncomfortable, though, not to mention confused. But on the whole, I enjoyed it. I’ll give it a solid:

7/10

COMMENT: “I haven’t seen this one, but can’t help but notice that Neil really, really doesn’t like it. I think he’d almost rather watch The Chase or ‘The Webbed Planet’ (sic). And I notice that they almost never seem to agree on how good a story is.” – Alisaunder

THE WAR MACHINES

BLOGGED: 20 May 2011

EPISODE 1

Sue: This one has the Daleks written all over it. Even the titles look like a Dalek has written them. It’s so obvious.

When the Doctor complains about his irritable skin condition, which he only ever gets when Daleks are in the vicinity, Sue’s suspicions are confirmed. The Doctor then decides that something is up to no-good at the newly erected Post Office Tower (“It was probably sexy, once”), and he takes Dodo with him to investigate.

Sue: If this was happening today, it’d be the Gherkin.

The Doctor and Dodo successfully ingratiate themselves into the highest echelons of British society, which is a little odd to say the least.

Sue: Wait a minute. Since when has the Doctor been known to anyone on Earth? How can he waltz into this lab? Is he using his psychic paper thingy?
Me: Yes! That’s it! I mean, er... yes, Sue, that’s exactly what he’s doing.

We learn that Professor Brett has created the ultimate supercomputer – WOTAN (with a V) – and tomorrow it will be connected to every computer in the world. All six of them. Oh, and it’s probably sentient. And insane.

Sue: So this scientist has invented the internet?
Me: Yeah, he’s the Al Gore of his day.

The Doctor heads to a London nightclub to find Dodo. It’s fab and groovy, man.

Sue: Are the Pink Floyd in this one?
Me: Poor Steven. I bet he would have loved this place.

And then the moment I’ve been dreading arrives. Yes, “Doctor Who is required”.

Sue doesn’t even flinch.

Me: Are you just going to let that go?
Sue: What’s wrong?
Me: Are you serious? Listen to it again.

I rewind the DVD.

Sue: Yeah? And what’s your problem, exactly?
Me: What’s my problem? WHAT’S MY PROBLEM??? They just called him Doctor Who! That’s my fucking problem!
Sue: No they didn’t. What they said was “Doctor, who is required”. There’s a comma.
Me: There’s a what?
Sue: Doctor comma who is required. It’s fine.

EPISODE 2

Five minutes into episode two and we’re still arguing about imaginary commas.

Sue: Doctor comma who is required. Live with it.
Me: Don’t you think a much more likely explanation is the script editor thought the lead character’s name was Doctor Who?
Sue: Well, yes. Obviously. But you can work around that.

Sue says she’s prepared to work around production errors to create a more consistent programme, but when I tell her that some fans spend their entire lives attempting to do just that, she starts to backtrack. And then Professor Brett says “Doctor Who” again, and there isn’t any room for a comma, a semi-colon or even a hyphen. All we have is a big, fat exclamation mark.

Sue: Oh fuck off, then. Stupid idiots.
Me: Just pretend it never happened. That’s what we fans do.
Sue: I’m not a fan.

The Doctor’s scenes in the Inferno nightclub lead Sue to conclude that someone was taking notes when this episode went out.

Sue: I bet this is where Peter Stringfellow got his look from: long silvery hair, out-of-date clothes and a slightly sinister personality. Yeah, he was definitely influenced by this episode.

And then there’s a scene that’s just plain wrong – the Doctor hanging around outside a nightclub in the early hours of the morning, arguing about the best way to get a taxi home. What’s next? The Doctor and Dodo stop off for a kebab?

In the middle of this rather bizarre scenario, a comedy tramp turns up.

Sue: Isn’t this a bit racist?
Me: Let’s not go there, shall we?

Before we can get into this, the Fagin-esque generic tramp is killed by some villains who look like they’ve just walked off the set of Police Surgeon. In fact, this tramp’s death is so earth-shattering, it immediately becomes front-page news. And then WOTAN phones up the Doctor for a quick brainwashing session, and Sue thinks she’s worked it all out.

Sue: Are the Cybermen behind this? Didn’t they take over the world with mobile phones, once? Do you remember that one? John Paul was in it.
Me: Yes, I remember. My best friend appeared in an episode of Doctor Who and he didn’t tell me. It’s been five years, love, you don’t have to keep reminding me. And no, it isn’t the Cybermen.
Sue: It must be the Daleks, then.

The Doctor breaks Dodo’s conditioning and she’s sent to the country to recuperate.

Sue: Is Dodo on holiday for the rest of this story?
Me: Dodo is on holiday for the rest of this programme.
Sue: Are you joking?
Me: No, I’m not. That’s the last we ever see of Dodo – zonked out on a chair. Her departure reminds me of her arrival: abrupt and a bit stupid.
Sue: I can’t say I’ll miss her very much. I take it Ben and Polly are her replacements, then?
Me: You’re catching on fast. What are your first impressions?
Sue: It’s hard to say. I wasn’t looking at them as potential companions until now. Ben’s very eager, isn’t he? And Polly is a bit of eye-candy for the dads, I suppose.
Me: Yeah, she’s alright. I guess.

The War Machines are revealed in all their, erm, glory.

Sue: Oh dear. Is it this week’s attempt to reinvent the Daleks? They look rubbish!

EPISODE 3

Sue: Isn’t Ben a little short for a sailor? He looks like he should be a jockey.
Me: He’s a bull terrier, always straining at the leash. I can’t tell if he’s overacting or giving it everything he’s got.
Sue: Polly is a bit bland.
Me: She’s been hypnotised.
Sue: So why haven’t they hypnotised Ben? That makes no sense. They simply assume he’ll do as he’s told, and then they leave him to it. Either they’re very cocky or very stupid.

Ben escapes. QED.

Me: Polly married the Celestial Toymaker in real life. He wasn’t very nice to her.
Sue: Just one more reason to hate that piece of shit.

When a single War Machine takes on an entire army – and wins – Sue can’t get her head around it.

Sue: How is it winning? Is that steam supposed to be deadly? It looks like a mobile sauna.
Me: I don’t see how it can possibly stop a gun from firing. Have we missed something important?
Sue: Those arms are rubbish. It couldn’t maim someone, let alone kill them.
Me: It’s a good job this exists. Could you imagine listening to it as a recon? It’d be five minutes of whooshing, screaming and the odd crash. It would have been a nightmare.
Sue: It’s difficult enough as it is. The sound effects are doing my head in. It sounds like a dial-up modem. It’s driving me mad.

It’s all a bit of a mess. The director, Michael Ferguson, is doing his best, but he doesn’t have a lot to work with. But at least the episode ends on a high, as the soldiers decide to leg it, leaving the Doctor behind to face a War Machine alone. Or, as Sue so eloquently puts it: “This is his Tiananmen Square moment”.

EPISODE 4

All over London, the War Machines are gearing up to wipe out humanity. To be honest, it strains credibility a bit. So, to ramp up the severity of the threat, they hire a real-life newsreader to calm the populace. RTD used Paul O’Grady, Innes Lloyd employed Kenneth Kendal – the effect is much the same.

Sue: Oh he’s real, isn’t he? That’s quite clever. He makes the whole thing seem more realistic.

The threat still feels rather vague, though, especially when a War Machine starts smashing up a nearby warehouse for no apparent reason.

Me: I am become death, destroyer of transistor radios.
Sue: People of London, stay off the streets. Do not attempt to rescue your bins.
Me: Leave your bins. They’re not worth it.

Thankfully, the Doctor comes up with an ingenious plan to deal with this nuisance. Well, it’s ingenious if your foe is stupid enough to walk straight into a very obvious trap. And luckily for the Doctor, that’s exactly what he’s up against.

Me: Look! It’s Frank Butcher!

Back at the Post Office Tower, WOTAN is on the verge of world domination.

Sue: I didn’t understand a word of that.
Me: Same here. Not a single word. Shall we rewind it?
Sue: If this was the 1960s, we wouldn’t be able to rewind it, so fuck it.

The Doctor’s reprogrammed War Machine infiltrates the Tower (“Now there’s a scene I wanted to see. How did it get in the lift?”), and it destroys WOTAN, who only has a human arse to protect it. Before we can wrap up any loose ends (is Brett going to be punished for all the deaths he’s caused?), the Doctor legs it. You can’t blame him, really.

Sue: Dodo really isn’t coming back. I thought you were winding me up.
Me: The Doctor is alone for the very first time.
Sue: It’s a bit odd that he doesn’t invite Ben and Polly to join him. Or is it? I’m not sure any more.

It doesn’t matter because they nip on board his ship when he isn’t looking.

Sue: Stowaways, eh? He won’t like that.

As the TARDIS dematerialises, Nicol appears in the doorway. She tuts.

Nicol: Are you still on William Hartnell? Bloody hell, you’ll never finish at this rate!

THE SCORE

Sue: It was okay. I can see what they were trying to do. It was very modern and ‘with it’, and I liked the way they used contemporary London, but I think the programme lost some of its mystery as a result. It didn’t feel like Doctor Who – it felt more like an episode of The Avengers. The sound effects got on my nerves as well, and the War Machines were pathetic. The plot wasn’t great, either, but the director was trying his best. Hartnell was pretty good, I suppose. Oh, I don’t know, let’s say:

6/10

Me: And that’s the end of the third season.
Sue: It seemed to go on forever.
Me: Brave heart, Susan. We’re almost there.

COMMENT: “My fave bit is when the Doctor gets mistaken for Jimmy Savile in the night club.” – Anton Binder

NOTES: Amazingly, we didn’t refer to Jimmy Savile once, even when Sue mentioned “long silvery hair, out-of-date clothes and a slightly sinister personality.” I can only assume that we must have been talking over that bit – (as) it happens. I’m also surprised I’m the first person to identify an actor with an EastEnders connection (a baton Sue will run with in subsequent volumes), and she’s wrong about the Gherkin, too. The Moff used the Shard instead.

DALEKS: INVASION EARTH 2150 AD

BLOGGED: 25 May 2011

Earlier this week, as I was about to head into town, I jokingly suggested that my wife watch Daleks: Invasion Earth 2150 AD without me. Watching Doctor Who together is one thing, but watching it alone? That would be hardcore.

I expected her to throw a cushion, but, not for the first time, she surprised me by acquiescing without a fight. She even allowed me to record her thoughts so I could write them up for the blog. So, after hooking her up to the equipment I usually reserve for podcasting, I left Sue with one simple instruction: just keep talking.

I half-expected to come back to 80 minutes of silence, punctuated by the odd “that’s crap” or “that doesn’t count”, but instead I received a veritable smorgasbord of tasty tidbits which I’ve edited together into a video. She didn’t even need Toby Hadoke to moderate her, although alcohol was definitely involved.

The video is still available on both the Wife in Space blog and YouTube (http://www.tinyurl.com/wifein2150ad) and I strongly suggest you watch it if you haven’t done so already. Because, if I’m really honest, the (slightly edited) transcript below makes even less sense on the printed page than usual.

Sue: So here I am, watching the menu screen to the ‘Daleks Invasion of Earth Two-One-Fifty AD’. Neil’s gone away and he’s asked me to do some sort of commentary on what I see. Which is a bit weird because I’ll be talking to myself. So yeah. Anyway, I’ll give it a go and we’ll see what happens.

The film begins with a police constable walking his beat.

Sue: He’s famous, isn’t he? He’s off... oh, he’s off something. I don’t know what it is, and it’s going to kill me now. I’ll be thinking about that all the way through... What’s he off? He was a copper, wasn’t he? A policeman in something else, like, erm... The Sweeney.

She’s confusing Bernard Cribbins with John Thaw, bless her.

Sue: It’s Bernard Cribbins! ... He comes back later, doesn’t he?

She isn’t exactly thrilled to see Peter Cushing’s Doctor again.

Sue: I don’t really know where this fits in. Like, is he really the Doctor, or not? Is Peter Cushing a Doctor? I don’t think he is.

Cue titles.

Sue: Terry fucking Nation. Oh God. How long’s this on for? About an hour-and-a-half of hell?

When PC Tom Campbell tries to foil some jewel thieves, he accidentally mistakes the TARDIS for a real police box.

Sue: Come on, Bernard. Do something good. Keep me interested. You see, I can’t even remember what happened in the first one, so I don’t know how I’m going to follow this... I can’t remember what happened in the first film, I just know it was shit.

After succumbing to some subtle product placement (“Ooh, I fancy a bowl of Sugar Puffs”), Sue begins to flounder.

Sue: This is 2150, but it looks like the 1960s or ’50s. So I’m a bit confused. And why would I want to sit through this again when I’ve seen it before? I can’t even remember what mark I gave it, but I think I enjoyed it. It must have given it a seven or an eight. So to sit here and watch it again is senseless, really. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I’m going to kill Neil.

The Daleks exterminate a rebel insurgent.

Sue: (Disappointed) I never realised that the Daleks blew steam. Is that new?

At least the red Dalek makes sense to her.

Sue: You see, I like that Dalek. To me, that Dalek’s classic. That’s what I remember as a kid. So I must have seen this as a kid. I must have done. But it had no effect on me, obviously... No lasting effect, anyway.

The Daleks are converting human slaves into Robomen.

Sue: This is auto... what do they call it? Autoerotic asphyxiation. Where you control your breathing. With gimp masks on.

Tom tries to rescue a Roboman, but he’s too late.

Sue: Leave him. He likes it. He’s got his S&M gear on, he’s tied up and he can hardly breathe. Just leave him.

The Daleks attack.

Sue: I wonder if the blue and grey ones are the minions, and the red ones are the bosses. I like the red ones... But I can’t remember them ever firing steam. I thought it was more of an electronic pulse. It’s not right.

Sue only has one thing to say about the infamous scene where Bernard Cribbins pretends to be a Roboman:

Sue: I need another glass of wine.

Meanwhile, Susan Who has been taken to a rebel safe house.

Sue: Nice workshop. They’re proper carpentry workbenches, them. I was going to build one of those, once, but I didn’t have a workshop to put one in. And I didn’t have a workshop to build one in. One day...

Susan leaves a message for the Doctor.

Sue: It’s rubbish watching these on your own. You can’t have an argument. It’s rubbish, this. I don’t really like it.

At least the Robomen manage to cheer her up.

Sue: That guy, second-on-the-right, he’s got lipstick on. I don’t care what anyone says, he’s loving it. He looks like this guy I play tennis with – Tesco Tony. Bless him, he’s lovely. God, I hope he isn’t a Doctor Who fan.

Unfortunately, Louise fails to fill this movie’s Barbara-shaped hole.

Sue: She’s very pretty, but she’s not as nice as Barbara. I don’t like her coat.

The Doctor and David fail to spot Susan’s message on the safe house door.

Sue: Just turn round... Come on, you can see that! His peripheral vision is shit! Why is everybody’s peripheral vision in Doctor Who so shit? If he doesn’t see the door... If he doesn’t see it, I’m switching this off. I don’t care what you say when you come back, Neil, it’s going off.

The Doctor doesn’t see it.

Sue: RIGHT! IT’S GOING OFF! THAT’S IT, IT’S OFF!!!

Some time passes...

Sue: Right, I just phoned Neil and he says I have to carry on. I can’t believe it, because that was shit.

She perks up a bit when several Daleks are run over by a van.

Sue: I used to go to school with a girl whose granddad owned a greengrocers, and he used to have one of those vans. It was green and he lived in Sydenham Road. Me and my friend used to go in the back of that van for a little ride with the granddad. That actually sounds worse than it was supposed to. It was all very innocent.

The Daleks plan their next move.

Sue: You don’t see many gold Daleks, do you? They must be top of the range.

While Susan and Wyler head for rural France, Louise and Tom are trapped on a flying saucer that keeps changing colour.

Sue: Bernard’s useless, isn’t he? He’s locked up in a strange room with a beautiful woman, and he falls asleep. Bernard Cribbins played Catherine Tate’s grandfather in Neil Tennant’s (sic) reign, but he can’t be playing the same person because he was infatuated by travelling in the TARDIS – it was his lifelong ambition – so obviously he can’t be the same character... Although he is about the same age.

My wife is deeply concerned about Susie Who’s welfare.

Sue: Her fringe has been backcombed to the hilt. That’s ridiculous for a kid that age. To spend that much time on her hair in the morning. It’s not right.

Whereas Peter Cushing’s Doctor fails to elicit any sympathy at all.

Sue: He looks like a rabbit in headlights. Every time I see Peter Cushing, he’s like... a squirrel. Come back William Hartnell, all is forgiven.

The action shifts to two old women in a rundown shack.

Sue: I’m getting a bit bored, now. This could hurry up a little bit, although the original was long if I remember rightly. This is Terry Nation trying to be like George Lucas, isn’t it? He’s stringing it out. Trying to get every bit of merchandising he can. But do you know what I quite like about this? I quite like the furniture. The best thing about this film is the woodwork. The carpentry’s amazing. Very Shaker-style. Lovely.

Meanwhile, in a hitherto unmentioned subplot, Philip Madoc tries to make a living as a black marketeer.

Sue: What is he going to do with all that gold and silver? Because it’s a Dalek invasion of Earth – so who’s going to buy those rings? The Daleks? And where are they going to put them?

The appearance of a black Dalek causes even more consternation.

Sue: He’s not the top guy, is he? He’s not the Darth Vader (sic), is he? Is the red one the top guy? Who’s top – red or black? That’s one thing I need to ask Neil when he gets back – what’s the hierarchy of the Daleks? It looks like it’s the red one at the moment. I’m sure I used to have a red Dalek when I was a kid. Worth a bomb now, I bet.

And then, apropos of nothing:

Sue: I think one in 10 people are allergic to latex. It’s true. It can be quite nasty, apparently.

When a Dalek negotiates one of the ramps that have been built into their flying saucer, Sue becomes fixated on Dalek ergonomics.

Sue: If they could only invent going down the stairs, their spaceships could be so much smaller. So much more economical. And it’s a bit risky, that, with no barriers. One of them could fall off any minute. It’s got to happen sooner or later.

And then she becomes very philosophical indeed.

Sue: I wonder if I would have enjoyed this more if I hadn’t seen the original?

As the film’s climax rages around her, Sue makes an important decision.

Sue: I reckon the gold Dalek is in charge. Because he’s got colour-coordinated headlights.

Another Dalek is disabled with some tarpaulin.

Sue: Why didn’t they do that before? How much tarpaulin would be around London? Just go to B&Q, get a few blankets and put them over their heads. Job done!

The Dalek mothership is about to crash...

Sue: The string’s going to break!

And then the film concludes with Tom Campbell returning to the beginning of the movie so he can foil the jewel thieves who got away in the pre-credit sequence.

Sue: Aww, bless. Now Bernard can run away with the cash and live happily ever after in Barbados. Go on, Bernard!

Cue credits.

Sue: What a pile of... That’s an hour and a half I’m never going to get back. Thanks, Neil. I’m not sure whether Neil wants me to mark this out of 10 or not, but if he does, tough shit, because it’s not getting a mark. It’s a zero. I refuse to mark it because it doesn’t count. And the fact that he didn’t see that message from Susan on the door is just utterly... pants.

COMMENT: “Wasn’t the whole ‘not noticing the message on the door’ thing a piece of tragic irony? Something that, in a way, sums up the dark heart of this film? Dortmun spends his life working on a bomb that doesn’t work. Philip Madoc sells out people to the Daleks and gets blown up in a shed for his pains. Susan writes big messages very stupidly on a sliding door so that her efforts are entirely wasted. I think what Nation is saying, at a fundamental level, is no matter how hard we strive towards any personal achievement, we are as ants in the flow of history – we pretend to be individually important, but for all our grand schemes and arrogant plans it only takes a short-sighted Ray Brooks to ruin everything.” – Rob Shearman

NOTES: The real reason I made Sue record an audio commentary for this movie is I wanted to prove to everyone she existed and she wasn’t just a figment of my overwrought imagination. That and I couldn’t be arsed to sit through Daleks: Invasion Earth 2150AD again, obviously.

SEASON FOUR

COULDN’T WE LISTEN TO THEM IN BED INSTEAD?

THE SMUGGLERS

BLOGGED: 3 June 2011

EPISODE 1

The fourth season begins where the third season left off – with Polly and Ben barging they way into the TARDIS.

Sue: Ben and Polly are very modern, compared to what we’ve seen so far. They’re almost too modern. They may as well shout, “Fab and groovy, man!” at the top of their lungs and be done with it.
Me: The Doctor won’t be pleased.
Sue: But does he really want to travel alone? I doubt it. He needs someone to show off to.

Indeed, the Doctor is royally pissed off when Ben and Polly stumble into his ship, but a few seconds later he’s giving them both a guided tour and an adventure in 17th-century Cornwall. Polly is up for the challenge, but Ben (“Adam Faith meets a young Daniel Craig”) isn’t so sure.

Sue: Hang on a minute, let me get this straight. Ben doesn’t have a problem when it comes to a police box transporting him to a beach – instantaneously, mind – but he doesn’t believe he’s travelled in time as well. Do you think that’s likely?

She’s right, although watching Ben searching for a train station at every available opportunity is very entertaining.

Me: At least he’s sceptical. Polly accepts the premise of the show even quicker than Dodo did.

When our heroes enter the local church, Polly is mistaken for a boy, thanks to her trendy trouser-suit.

Sue: Is everyone in the 17th century blind, or did boys look like supermodels back then? It’s ridiculous.

And then the story turns very nasty indeed with the brutal murder of a drunken churchwarden, and, thanks to some very nervy Australian film censors, we even get to see it. As an extra-special treat, some Super 8 footage provides us with a taste of this story’s impressive exteriors.

Sue: You know, I bet this looked great. Look at all those lovely farm buildings. I could happily live somewhere like that. Why don’t the good episodes exist any more, Neil? It’s really starting to piss me off.

As we discuss this sad truth, Julia Smith’s directing credit fades into view.

Sue: Oh, I met her once. I think I asked her a question about EastEnders.
Me: What a waste.

EPISODE 2

The Doctor meets Captain Pike, who, despite his name, has a hook for a hand. It’s very distracting.

Sue: He isn’t exactly Johnny Depp, is he?
Me: The Avery mentioned here is the same Captain Avery who appears in The Curse of the Black Spot.
Sue: The curse of the what?
Me: You know, the Matt Smith episode with the pirates. Hugh Bonneville – him off Downton Abbey – played the same Captain Avery they’re talking about now. It’s his gold they’re after.
Sue: Oh, that’s nice, I suppose. Does this mean the pirate ship will turn out to be an alien spaceship?
Me: Not bloody likely. Actually, I’m not sure if that’s disappointing or not.
Sue: I can’t believe they still think Polly is a boy. I mean, look at her! She’s gorgeous!

Ben and Polly end up in jail for a murder they didn’t commit, which they subsequently escape from by bamboozling a guard with a straw doll and some superstitious nonsense about warlocks.

Sue: Why go to all that trouble? There’s more padding in this scene than in the bloody voodoo doll!

As the episode progresses, Sue’s enthusiasm begins to wane.

Sue: There’s too much talking and not enough action. I’m struggling to keep up with it. Who are the bad guys again?
Me: They’re all bad guys at this point, I think.

By the time the episode reaches its conclusion, Sue’s patience has well and truly run out.

Sue: Two more episodes of this... Couldn’t we listen to them in bed instead? We could fall asleep to them and the dialogue will soak into our subconscious dream state. I read about that, once. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?
Me: And how will I record your thoughts for the blog?
Sue: I don’t know. Automatic writing?

EPISODE 3

Sue: This bloke looks vaguely familiar.
Me: It’s John Ringham. He played an Aztec in, erm, The Aztecs.
Sue: No, I mean he looks like a young Bono.
Me: Not Penny’s dad from Just Good Friends?
Sue: Oh yeah. Him as well.

Two minutes into the episode and Sue stops talking for a good five minutes. This type of extended silence usually only occurs if she’s a) completely gripped or b) bored senseless.

Sue: I haven’t got anything interesting to say about this.
Me: That’s bloody typical. The same day this blog is crowned SFX magazine’s ‘Website of the Month’ – and you’re described as being “occasionally insightful” – you run out of things to say. That’s just great.
Sue: Look, it’s people talking in rooms. People I can’t see. From what I can gather, the carpentry is very good, though. Does that help?
Me: To be fair, hardly anyone has anything interesting to say about The Smugglers.
Sue: Don’t you mean, “Ooh-arrdly anyone?” Eh? Geddit? No?

Sue hasn’t been the same since I let it slip that Rob Shearman described her as a comedy genius on the blog last week.

Sue: You’re just jealous because more people have watched me take the piss out of the Daleks than have watched you climb Mt Kilimanjaro on YouTube. You’ll get over it eventually.

Before we can discuss this (she’s wrong), Jamaica turns up and we have to discuss the show’s racist past again.

Sue: At least he isn’t blacked-up.

Just as we’re about to launch into a critical dissection of the programme’s treatment of race – in a way that would have made Philip Sandifer proud – Jamaica is brutally murdered by Pike, which we get to see in all its gory glory.

Sue: There was a time when the Doctor would have legged it at this point. And if he did leg it at this point, the story would be a lot shorter. I think I preferred him when he was an irritable coward, after all.

EPISODE 4

Sue: I can’t believe people still think Polly is a boy. How old do they think ‘he’ is? Her voice is so high it could shatter glass. Look at her hips, people!

Sadly, the characters are too wrapped up in their own problems to notice Anneke Wills’ curves; they just want to kill each other so they can get their hands (and hooks) on Hugh Bonneville’s gold.

Sue: I hope this episode turns into a bloodbath. At least that way we might get to see some of it.

It does. And for long, extended periods we have nothing to go on but the sound of people fighting each other. Including poor Ben.

Sue: I like Ben. He’s a bit handy and he doesn’t fuck about. Hang on a minute, did he just tell Polly to put the kettle on? That’s borderline genius!

A pirate grabs Polly and runs off to a cave with her.

Sue: I hope he’s not gay. He might try to rape her.

It’s a bloodbath. Pike kills Cherub and then Pike is killed by Penny’s dad. And it sounds as if the pirates got their rum-addled arses kicked, too. In fact, the only person who seems to make it out alive is the chief smuggler himself, the Squire. Not that the Doctor can be arsed with any of that – he’s legged it back to the TARDIS before he can cause any more grief.

Sue: I’ve just realised something – Ben is a sailor but he didn’t get to visit the pirate ship. Bit of a wasted opportunity, that. And here’s another thing, why is Hartnell on his way out? He was fine in this. He’s as strong and as confident as we’ve ever seen (or heard) him. I thought he was supposed to be ill?

THE SCORE

Sue: There was nothing inherently wrong with that – it’s just that we’ve seen it all before. It wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t that great, either. It wasn’t funny enough for me, and it feels like we’ve been treading water. I’ll have forgotten it by next week.

5/10

Sue: I hope something interesting happens in the next one.

COMMENT: “Now that Sue’s made the national press, is she in danger of undergoing a Dame Edna-style transformation from normal person to self-conscious superstar? ’Cos that would be ace.” – John Callaghan.

NOTES: SFX’s ‘Website of the Month’ award sits on my mantelpiece, next to my rec.arts.drwho ‘Rookie of the Year’ award, and my ‘Go Outdoors Extreme Altitude Training’ certificate (bronze).

THE TENTH PLANET

BLOGGED: 7 June 2011

EPISODE 1

Sue: Yay! It’s The Tenth Planet! I know all about this one.

It’s time to come clean. It would have been fantastic if Sue had been oblivious to this story’s significance, but she wasn’t. I could have pretended it shocked her to her core but, alas, that isn’t what happened. Truth be told, she’s been looking forward to this one ever since we sat down to watch ‘An Unearthly Child’.

This is what really happened: In 1994, about a year after I moved in with Sue, we were both out of work and struggling to make ends meet. So we approached the local Arts Council for a grant (as you do) and we ended up being paid to research a documentary about religion and bingo, which was called, to my eternal shame, Eyes Down. But at least it kept us in tabs and beer for a few months. However, this was the second idea we went with. Right up until the last moment, we were going to submit a treatment for a screenplay called ‘Searching for The Tenth Planet’.

It was going to be about a bunch of geeks who go to extraordinary lengths to find the fabled lost episode – with hilarious results! Sue was well aware of the episode’s significance, even if she couldn’t have cared less about its recovery. To her it was just a silly thing a bunch of socially inept friends could search for. In fact, for years afterwards, she’d occasionally bring it up again. “Why don’t you write that silly Tenth Planet thing?” she’d say. But I never did. I interviewed OAPs about their gambling habits instead.

Sue: Oh, I’m all excited now. This is it. This is the big one.
Me: Steady on, love.
Sue: And I think we can confidently say this episode isn’t racist!

We give each other a high-five.

Me: It feels very progressive, doesn’t it? A black astronaut with reams of dialogue. He’s great, isn’t he?
Sue: Both the astronauts are. They haven’t got a lot to work with, but they’re still giving it everything they’ve got. This feels quite edgy.

Sue is fascinated by the international cast, which feels very fresh and contemporary. In fact, for a few minutes, she believes we’re watching events unfolding on an alien planet.

Sue: Oh, I see. It’s our past but their future. That explains why everyone is getting along with each other. It’s very Star Trek.

I decide to let that go.

Sue: I hope the Open University lecturer is in charge.

Snowcap Tracking Station is run by a gruff American General named Cutler. He doesn’t take kindly to the Doctor and his companions waltzing into his base unannounced, especially when he’s got an out-of-control spaceship to deal with. The Doctor tries to explain, but the General doesn’t believe him. It isn’t hard to see why.

Sue: That’s a bit silly. A twin planet? Who’s flying it? And how?

And then, just as the Doctor predicted, some uninvited visitors arrive.

Sue: Are they...? Aren’t they...? I think they might be...
Me: Go on. You can do it, Sue.
Sue: Are they Cybermen?
Me: Hey, I’m impressed.
Sue: I know they’re Cybermen because you have a row of action figures on the shelf behind us, and one of them looks like that one over there – the one with the lamp on his head. Not that I’ve ever studied them or anything.

And then we become embroiled in a tedious argument about a dead soldier’s cape.

Sue: The Cybermen wouldn’t do that.
Me: What?
Sue: They’re Cybermen. They’re as hard as nails. They wouldn’t need a poncy cape.
Me: He isn’t cold! He’s trying to disguise himself!
Sue: That’s even more ridiculous. Look at the size of him! He’s a silver giant in a tiny cape! It’s absurd.
Me: This is one of Doctor Who’s most celebrated cliffhangers, and all you can talk about is a fucking cape. I don’t know why I bother.
Sue: Don’t blame me. I didn’t write it.

EPISODE 2

There’s only one topic up for discussion during this episode, and that’s General Wigner’s secretary who looks a bit like Verity Lambert. Well, her and the Cybermen, of course.

Sue: They’ve all got capes on, now. Would you like me to knit a tiny cape for your action figure?

Before she can goad me further, a Cyberman opens its mouth.

Sue: Whoah! What the hell was that?

Nicol chooses this moment to walk into the room. She was taking a break from revising for an impending exam about tachyons (yes, really).

Nicol: That’s not right.
Me: I like it. It’s different. Distinctive.
Nicol: It’s ridiculous.
Sue: I think I like it. It’s so odd, it’s frightening. There’s only one problem with it.
Me: What’s that?
Sue: I can’t understand a fucking word they’re saying. But it’s a great concept. Now, if only the actors could open their mouths in time with the dialogue, they could be on to a winner.
Nicol: They may look scary, but they sound ridiculous.
Sue: Actually, that voice is very familiar.

Oh no.

Sue: Don’t get annoyed, Neil, but you have to admit that he sounds like Zippy from Rainbow. Sorry, I’m just winding you up.
Nicol: Are the Cybermen supposed to be this camp?
Sue: They’re starting to freak me out a bit.
Me: They’re eerie, aren’t they?
Sue: They are seriously beginning to freak me out.

The freakiest bit is when Krang (at least we think it’s Krang) interrogates the base personnel like he’s conducting a survey for Matalan.

Sue: “Age? Age? Age?” He’s not going to let it go, is he?
Me: I love this. The way he casually informs the Open University professor that Earth is doomed, as he makes some notes for his files, is genuinely horrific.

When they finish pressing the staff for their National Insurance numbers, the Cybermen explain their home planet, Mondas, is draining Earth’s energy.

Nicol: Right, that’s my cue to leave. I have to get back to some real science.
Me: Actually, the person who invented the Cybermen, Kit Pedler, was a real scientist, and the Cybermen are inspired by real technology that was around at the time, especially organ transplants and cybernetics. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, the first heart transplant took place a few weeks after this episode aired.
Nicol: They’re still rubbish.

There’s no arguing with that – it only takes Ben and Cutler a few minutes to regain control of the base, wiping out all the alien invaders in the process. So much for them being as hard as nails. However, more are coming. A lot more.

Sue: Either somebody’s sneezed on the radar screen or they’re in big trouble now.

EPISODE 3

Me: I forgot to mention this yesterday, but that was the last episode to feature a fully moving William Hartnell.
Sue: I thought you said this wasn’t a recon?
Me: It isn’t. But William Hartnell isn’t in it.
Sue: Don’t tell me he’s gone on holiday again! It’s his final story! What’s he playing at?

I provide Sue with the background to what actually happened, specifically Hartnell’s sudden illness and the quick rewrite that had to be undertaken to accommodate it. She never would have forgiven him otherwise.

Sue: I can’t believe Polly is putting the bloody kettle on again, without a shred of irony. I like her top, though. Or is it a dress? It’s difficult to tell.

We spend most of our time wondering what the Doctor would have done if he’d been awake.

Sue: I can’t see him crawling through a ventilation duct like Ben, and I can’t see him making the coffee, either, so he must have been the one spouting all the technobabble about the rocket. That’s my best guess.

The episode is frustrating in the extreme. Not only is the Doctor completely absent, the Cybermen are hardly in it, either.

Sue: This isn’t doing anything for me. I really thought I’d enjoy this one a lot more than I am. I don’t see what the big deal is.
Me: And that’s it. The very last moving Hartnell. Finished.
Sue: And William Hartnell wasn’t even in it. Thanks for that.

EPISODE 4

It good to see Hartnell back in action again, even if it is only via some still photos and the odd scrap of Super 8 film (“Somebody knew this was going to be special”), but just when you think the Doctor is going to step up to the plate one last time, he’s dragged away to the aliens’ spaceship with Polly.

Sue: Are the Cybermen going to assimilate them?
Me: Wrong show, love.
Sue: I can see how this would be frightening for the kids. It looks like they’re being assaulted by a pervert in a gimp mask. Not that I’d know anything about that, of course.

The Doctor is tied to a chair, Cutler is killed (“Good riddance”), and then Mondas gets too close to comfort and it, erm, melts.

Sue: So the Cybermen turned out to be totally useless. They didn’t think it through, did they? And why would they melt? I thought you said a real scientist wrote this?
Me: I did. I didn’t say he was a good scientist.
Sue: So what is William Hartnell doing while this is going on?
Me: He’s having a nice lie down.

Ben eventually rescues the Doctor and Polly, but the Doctor isn’t feeling very well.

Sue: What’s wrong with him? Has this adventure got anything to do with his current condition? I don’t get it. Am I missing something important?

The Doctor stumbles into the snow (and the camera). And then he enters the TARDIS, locking Ben and Polly outside.

Sue: Oh my God, he’s going to leave them there, isn’t he?

And then all hell breaks loose.

Sue: Neil?
Me: Yes?
Sue: What the fuck is going on?

The Doctor lets Ben and Polly into TARDIS (“About time!”), and then he collapses. We never get to see him fall, which is a bit sad when you think about it.

And then... Well, you know the rest.

Sue: Is that it?
Me: That’s it.
Sue: I’m so angry, I don’t know where to start.
Me: Is it because they don’t explain the regeneration?
Sue: No, that’s the only bit I liked about it. Keep it weird and mysterious. That’s fine.
Me: So what’s the problem?
Sue: That wasn’t a swan song. That’s my problem. Where was the Doctor’s final heroic act? Where was his big speech? I feel completely cheated by that.
Me: The First Doctor’s last words are “keep warm”.
Sue: Fuck off.
Me: It’s either very British or very stupid. I can’t decide.
Sue: I can. It’s a fucking disgrace. What were they thinking? They should have given him something to do in his last story. If he was too ill, then surely they could have given him a decent scene – or even a single line of dialogue – in the final episode. There’s radiation all over the place, couldn’t they have had a moment where the Doctor exposes himself to it, saving the day but sacrificing himself in the process? Just like Dr Spock (sic) did in that film? It’s very, very sad, but for all the wrong reasons.
Me: Did the regeneration excite you?
Sue: Not really, I’ve seen it loads of times. I’m married to you, remember? But it was nice to see it in context for a change. It’s certainly the first time it’s meant anything to me. But I’ll have to think about it later, I’m much too angry to take it in right now.

THE SCORE

Sue: I honestly thought that would be brilliant. It’s got the Cybermen in it. It’s got the very first regeneration in it. You’ve been banging on about the missing episode for 20 years. And it was shit. Utter shit. But not just any old Web Planet shit – this was William Hartnell’s last story. What they did to him here was unforgivable. I definitely would have stopped watching the series if I’d been a child back then.
Me: But you were a child back then, Sue.
Sue: Shut it. Okay, I’m giving it:

3/10

Sue: And the way I’m feeling right now, it should count itself lucky to get that.

COMMENT: “I’ll have you know that I work for Matalan, and we don’t thrust surveys at you. Instead, our Cybermasters get us to force a store card on you whether you want one or not.” – Terry Francis

NOTES: I’ve lost my original treatment for Searching for The Tenth Planet, otherwise I would have included it as an extra in this book. Honest.

THE HARTNELL YEARS

BLOGGED: 9 June 2011

I invited the blog’s readers to quiz Sue about her journey so far when we reached the end of the Hartnell era. Here are just a few questions which made it through our spam filter.

Me: Right, the first question was asked by quite a few people, including Paul Bass, Jenny F, someone called Menny, and Rob Shearman. They all want to know this: Now that you’ve seen the Hartnell stories, would you go back and change any of your scores? Have your feelings towards the early Hartnell stories mellowed at all?
Sue: Is that really the best question Rob Shearman could come up with?
Me: Yes.
Sue: Oh. Okay. Well, my answer is no. I stand by my original reactions. I like to look forward, not back.
Me: The next question is from Tristan Alfaro. Are you aware of the cult following you have acquired?
Sue: You did say ‘cult’, didn’t you?
Me: Richard Lyth asks a similar question: How does it feel to have your every random comment read, discussed and made into t-shirts by thousands of hardcore Doctor Who fans the world over? (Note: this never actually happened.)
Sue: If they’re busy doing that, it keeps the rest of us safe.
Me: The next question was asked by Lewis Maddox and Thomas Bowyer. If you could sacrifice one surviving episode to see one that’s been lost, which one would you sacrifice, and for which episode?
Sue: I’d get rid of the Toymaker one and I’d replace it with The Tenth Planet Episode 4. But only because you’ve been banging on about it for 20 years, Neil.
Me: And from David Whittam: Are you actually enjoying this?
Sue: ‘Enjoy’ is a very strong word. However, it’s nowhere near as bad as I thought it was going to be. Let’s put it this way – I’m still here, aren’t I?
Me: The King of the Subterranean Penguins asks: If William Hartnell was a bed, what sort of bed would he be?
Sue: He’d be hard on the outside and soft on the inside.
Me: I prefer Nev Fountain’s answer: Crochet-y. Okay, next we have a controversial request from Simon Harries. Should one wish to black-up in the style of a 1960s Doctor Who guest actor (Freddie Jaeger, Bernard Kay etc) in the privacy of one’s own home, purely for ironic purposes, what tips could Sue offer in terms of the make and shade. Also, should it be a cream or powder compact?
Sue: Please refer to the 16-page private email which Neil made me send to you.
Me: Next up we have Graham Kibble-White, and he wants to know how and when did Neil reveal the fact he was a Doctor Who fan to you, and how did you respond?
Sue: Didn’t you include that information in the very first post on the blog, Neil? If he can’t be bothered to read it...
Me: He writes for Doctor Who Magazine.
Sue: Well, I’ve never read that. So there.
Me: The next question is from Rory Pond. That probably isn’t his real name, by the way.
Sue: Maybe it’s the actor who plays him?
Me: Yeah, probably. Anyway, ‘Rory’ asks: If you knew then what you know now, would you still have gone ahead with this experiment?
Sue: (After a very long pause) Yes. It keeps my husband busy, and he assures me that we’ll be able to retire on the royalties from the t-shirt eventually.
Me: It will happen. You just have to trust me. Next up is Radio Free Skaro’s Steven Schapansky -
Sue: That name must be made up as well.
Me: Steven asks: What are you looking forward to the most about attending Gally in Los Angeles next year?
Sue: Shopping on Rodeo Drive. That and hiding.
Me: And now it’s time for an incredibly personal question from Sean Alexander. He wants to know whether our marital relations have been affected by the experiment. And if they have, has it been in a good or a bad way?
Sue: It has – we talk a lot more. We have to. I guess that’s a good thing, isn’t it?
Me: Bringing the tone down even further we have John Williams, co-editor of Tachyon TV, with the inevitable shag, marry or kill: Terry Nation, Dennis Spooner and William Hartnell.
Sue: Kill Terry (obviously), shag Dennis (he’d make me laugh) and marry Hartnell. He’d be too old to take an active interest in me.
Me: Next we have Matt Bartley with: If Matt Smith’s Doctor bumped into the first Doctor in the new series, who should they get to play him?
Sue: Can’t they get the guys who did the latest Tron film?
Me: Ian Berriman asks: Which Doctors are more physically attractive than Neil? (Peter Cushing is allowed).
Sue: Tom Baker, Peter Davison, Paul McGann, Christopher Eccleston, David Tennant, Matt Smith, John Simm -
Me: He isn’t the Doctor!
Sue: Hugh Grant.
Me: He doesn’t count!
Sue: What’s the other one’s name? The Scottish one?
Me: Fuck off!
Sue: Well, you did ask!
Me: Okay, you’ll like the next question, it’s from Chris Orton: What’s been your favourite hat in the series so far?
Sue: Barbara’s. Did Barbara ever wear a hat? If she did, Barbara would have had the best hat. And if she didn’t wear a hat, there are no decent hats in the series so far. Does that answer the question?
Me: In a similar vein, from John Paul Green: What’s been your favourite example of set design and/or carpentry in the series so far?
Sue: The Smugglers. That was too easy.
Me: And finally, Malcolm Y asks: Is Tesco Tony single? And if he is, can I have his phone number?
Sue: It’s complicated.

Questions I didn’t dare put to her included: “Has black and white Doctor Who ever got you in the mood, Sue?” (Steve O’Brien) and “Will you marry me?” (name withheld).

Me: So, do you think you’ll miss William Hartnell? Or are you glad he’s done and dusted?
Sue: I’m glad he’s done and dusted. But you never forget your first, do you? And I do admire him – he’s the only actor who didn’t have anything to go on. Everyone who came afterwards had his performance to build on. You can’t take that away from him. I’ll never be a fan but I warmed to him as we went along. As for missing him, it depends how bad the next one is.
Me: If you had to sum up William Hartnell’s portrayal of the Doctor is three words, what would they be?
Sue: Moody, odd and sad.
Me: Has anything surprised you about these old episodes?
Sue: Yeah, I was constantly shocked by the violence. Doctor Who definitely isn’t a kid’s show.
Me: And finally, which era of the show are you looking forward to the most? And which era are you dreading?
Sue: I’m looking forward to Matt Smith.
Me: We’re only doing the original series, love.
Sue: We’ll see about that. Okay, I’m looking forward to Peter Davison – he’s easy on the eye. And as far as dreading goes, I’m torn between Colin Baker and Jon Pertwee. Pertwee because I remember him driving around in that stupid yellow car – I must have seen it as a child and I don’t want to see it again – and do I have to explain Colin Baker?

COMMENT: “Neil Perryman – more attractive than Jon Pertwee.” – DamonD

NOTES: We never did make it to Gally in 2012. And we’ve only ever sold 35 t-shirts (total profit = £17.50). QED.

And yes, I’m still asking Sue to trust me.

EXTRAS

WHOOPIE-FUCKING-DO

AN ADVENTURE IN SPACE AND TIME

BLOGGED: 22 November 2014

This isn’t the first time Sue’s watched this drama about the genesis of Doctor Who.

Sue: I’m going to cry again, aren’t I?

Just thinking about it makes her bottom lip tremble.

Sue: Poor Buffy.

The last time we watched An Adventure in Space and Time together was Sunday 24 November 2013. We’d just returned from a hair-raising trip to London (where we inexplicably live-blogged The Day of the Doctor for The Guardian), when Nicol suddenly decided she wanted to watch it with me, having missed it when it was broadcast on BBC2 a few days earlier. Sue had already seen it, so she had a bath, but she returned to the living room for the last 30 minutes.

And then, as the credits rolled, and I pretended to have something in my eye, our dog, a slightly mad golden Labrador named Buffy, had a massive heart attack – right in front of us. She passed away peacefully less than half-an-hour later.

Since then, we can’t think about An Adventure in Space and Time without reliving the emotions we went through that night. So blogging it for this book was probably a mistake.

Sue: It was as if she waited for us to get back from London before she died.
Me: It’s as if she waited for the show to finish before she died.
Sue: I miss her every day, especially when I’m eating crisps.

I press ‘play’.

Sue: The theme music sounds like it was written for Sherlock. It doesn’t feel right. It sounds like everything else you hear on TV these days.

The story of Doctor Who begins on Barnes Common.

Me: The Barnes Common reference doesn’t mean a thing to you, does it?
Sue: Is that for the fans?
Me: Yes.
Sue: Well, that probably explains why I don’t get it, then.
Me: Every time you say that, part of me dies. It’s as if our experiment was a complete waste of time.
Sue: I’m saying nothing.
Me: To be fair, I’ve never told you about Barnes Common, so I don’t blame you for not getting it.
Sue: Are you going to tell me or not?
Me: Do you care?
Sue: Not really. No.

I tell her anyway.

Sue: They wouldn’t have been able to afford a car crash on a BBC budget. It would have been a car crash all right, just not the sort they would have wanted.

We join William Hartnell in his dressing room.

Sue: The actor’s resemblance to William Hartnell is uncanny. It’s as if he was born to play the part. He reminds me of my granddad. He used to wear clothes like that. I bet he’s smoking Woodbines, too.

He isn’t the only one.

Sue: Ha! A Cyberman with a tab in his mouth. That’s brilliant.
Me: Which episode are they filming here, Sue?
Sue: How the hell should I know?
Me: Come on, Sue. It’s one of Hartnell’s most important stories.
Sue: I know. It’s the first Cyberman story.
Me: And? What’s it called?
Sue: Planet of the Cyberman.

We are transported back to 1963...

Sue: (Singing) This is Sherlock. Sounds like Sherlock. Must be Sherlock. But isn’t Sherlock. La-la-la...

Sydney Newman arrives at the BBC and gets into an argument with a security guard, who Sue fails to recognise, even though I replay the scene for her THREE TIMES.

Me: It’s Ian!
Sue: That’s William Russell? No way! Is that what he looks like these days? Bloody hell. I don’t want to remember him with a moustache like that. I wish you hadn’t told me now.

The BBC’s new Head of Drama has a gap to fill.

Sue: I wish I could have worked at the BBC back then. I would have been in my element. I came up with the idea for Dragons’ Den, you know.
Me: You have mentioned it once or twice, yes.
Sue: It was called The Entrepreneurs. I would have excelled in that era.
Me: With a tab in your mouth.
Sue: Obviously. I know it’s bad for you – and people around you – but I’d be a lot more productive if I was allowed to smoke at work. I bet Doctor Who wouldn’t have been as successful if the people making it hadn’t been chain-smoking.

A young producer lets her hair down at a party.

Sue: I met Verity Lambert 20 years ago. You made me ask her a question. I can’t remember what I said, but it was probably some feminist bollocks – you were still pretending to be one back then. It was probably, “Should there be a female Doctor?” or something right-on like that. Anyway, she was lovely.

One of the undisputed stars of An Adventure in Space and Time is BBC Television Centre.

Sue: It’s such a beautiful building. They never should have sold it.
Me: If you had the money, would you buy an apartment there?
Sue: It would be cool to say you lived in the same building where they made Doctor Who and The Generation Game, but the cats wouldn’t like it very much, so, no.
Me: I think this was the last drama they ever made there.
Sue: That’s fitting, I suppose. A drama about the BBC’s most iconic show is the last thing filmed in its most iconic building. It’s the end of an era. Fucking Tories.

Sydney Newman wants Verity to produce a sci-fi show for the BBC. He created one for ITV and that seemed to work.

Sue: Why don’t we watch Pathfinders?
Me: Because it’s shit.
Sue: That’s never stopped us before.

It doesn’t take very long for Sue to become engrossed in Verity’s battle against a male-dominated BBC.

Sue: I’m just watching this now. Do we have to talk over it?
Me: Yes. Sorry.
Sue: I just think she’s a wonderful role model, especially with all the shit she had to put up with. You go, Verity!

William Hartnell’s wife convinces her husband to consider a new role that’s just been offered to him. “It’s for the kiddies,” she says.

Sue: Oh no it isn’t!

Verity meets her director, Waris Hussein, in the BBC bar.

Sue: Toby!

Toby Hadoke is the most famous person we know with a Doctor Who connection who’s slept in our house (unless you count someone who worked on Ian Levine’s animated version of Shada and lived to tell the tale), and here he is, serving drinks. On the telly, I mean. He hasn’t popped round to do some light chores.

Sue: Toby should put ‘TV’s Racist Barman’ on the posters advertising his comedy gigs. Actually, that probably wouldn’t work.
Me: And Al Murray would be furious.

Verity and Waris take William Hartnell out to dinner so they can pitch Doctor Who to him.

Sue: He really was a miserable git, wasn’t he? In real life, I mean. Doctor Who saved him, didn’t it? God knows what would have happened to him if it hadn’t come along when it did. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

Verity describes the programme’s futuristic theme tune to him.

Sue: Delia doesn’t get a lot of screen time. They should make a documentary about her next.

The pitch is successful and Hartnell is introduced to the press, along with the actors who have been chosen to play his companions.

Sue: I still miss Barbara and Ian. These two look a bit like them, I suppose. She definitely has Barbara’s hair. And she’s got Susan’s voice. Ian is... well... I miss Ian.

William Hartnell’s granddaughter quizzes him about his new role.

Sue: Imagine what it would be like if your granddad was Doctor Who. How mad would that be?
Me: Spare a thought for David Tennant’s son. His dad and his granddad are both Doctor Who. Damn it. I mean the Doctor.
Sue: They’ll have to cast him as Doctor Who when he’s older, otherwise he’ll end up with a complex.

Verity butts heads with a BBC designer who can’t be bothered to design the TARDIS interior.

Sue: It’s a miracle Doctor Who got made at all with dickheads like him working on it. Come on, Verity! Kick his arse!

Peter Brachacki knocks up an iconic console room in a fit of pique (which makes Sue laugh a lot), and then we dissolve to the real thing.

Sue: I love that shade of green. I want a car that shade of green. I’d completely forgotten that the TARDIS used to be that colour. It looks amazing, doesn’t it? It’s a shame we never saw this level of detail in the original episodes.

The Floor Manager on Doctor Who’s first episode is called Dougie.

Sue: Is that Douglas Camfield?
Me: Well, he was a production assistant on the first episode, so yes, probably. Sort of. Trust you to notice that.

And then history is made. Almost.

Me: Do you remember the first episode, Sue?
Sue: Of course I do. How could I forget it? It was mental.

The filming is a disaster. In fact, the end result is so amateurish, Sydney Newman tells Verity to do it again. Only this time he wants her to make the Doctor less abrasive and more approachable.

Sue: Can you imagine how horrible the Doctor would have been if they hadn’t done that? Actually, are you sure Hartnell got that note? I’m not convinced he did, you know.

Verity reassures her lead actor that he has what it takes to play the Doctor.

Sue: Do you think Steven Moffat and Peter Capaldi have chats like this?
Me: Well, Capaldi is older than Hartnell was.
Sue: He’s looking very good on it.
Me: He’s a couple of years older than you.
Sue: (Expectantly) And? Go on.
Me: And your memory is almost as bad as William Hartnell’s?

And that’s when things go from bad to worse.

Sue: Here we go. Terry fucking Nation. That’s all they need. Everything’s stacked against them now.
Me: Brave heart, Waris. Did you get that reference?
Sue: Yes. Peter Davison used to say it to Tegan.
Me: Well done.
Sue: It’s going to be like this all the way through, isn’t it?

Sydney isn’t very happy with Terry’s script.

Sue: Terry Nation almost killed the programme before it started.
Me: I’ve never thought about it like that before.
Sue: I wonder what we’d be doing now if Sydney had cancelled it.
Me: Watching Star Trek, probably.
Sue: “Is it the Klingons?” No, that doesn’t work.

The Daleks make a spectacular entrance.

Sue: I still prefer the chunkier ones from the new series, but yeah, they do look pretty good here. It’s nicely directed, this. The way they slowly reveal the Dalek, even though we all know what it is, is very clever.

A mother calls her children in off the street so they don’t miss their favourite TV programme.

Me: Who’s that?
Sue: No idea. Is it Steven Moffat’s mam?
Me: It’s Susan! I mean it’s Carole Ann Ford!
Sue: Do you love me any less because I didn’t notice that, Neil? Be honest.
Me: Well... Erm... No?
Sue: Right answer.

Verity suddenly finds herself surrounded by hordes of hyperactive school children imitating the metal meanies.

Me: I think that actually happened. In real life.
Sue: It must have been fantastic. I’m so happy for her. I’m loving this.

Verity and Waris celebrate their success on a balcony overlooking Television Centre.

Sue: They should end it here. We’d have a happy ending if they ended it here. Has anyone ever thrown themselves off the top of that building when the ratings were bad? They must have done.

Despite the programme’s success, William Hartnell continues to be a miserable git on set.

Sue: I can’t wait to see Marco Polo. It looks great.
Me: I’ll remind you of this conversation in a few weeks time.
Sue: Ooh. Have they found it, then? You kept that quiet. For a change.

And then Dalekmania arrives.

Sue: I had one of those red PVC Dalek suits.
Me: Why?
Sue: Because I was five years old.
Me: No, I mean why did you ask for a Dalek suit? Surely that means you must have been a fan.
Sue: No it doesn’t. It means my mam bought it off someone in a pub. It was either a fake Dalek suit or it fell off the back of a lorry. Or maybe it was my brother’s and I just borrowed it. I definitely wouldn’t have asked for one. I probably asked Father Christmas for a Fisher Price drill.

The cast are given complimentary copies of the first Doctor Who annual.

Me: I’ve got that annual. Wait here.

I retrieve the book from my shelf and wave in her face.

Sue: Thanks. I feel like I’m watching this in 3D now.

William Hartnell is accosted by a young fan in a park.

Sue: They should have called the little boy Steven. And he should have been Scottish, with a curly perm. You know, for the fans.

The Daleks invade Westminster Bridge. In colour!

Me: Which story is this? And don’t say Something of the Daleks.
Sue: Erm... The Dalek Invasion of the Planet?
Me: Close enough.

William Hartnell/the Doctor bids farewell to Carole Ann Ford/Susan.

Sue: That was brilliantly done. I’m really enjoying this. It’s giving me a warm glow inside. And no, it isn’t a hot flush.

Susan’s replacement is introduced to the press.

Me: Who’s she?
Sue: I don’t know.
Me: Yes you do.
Sue: Wanna bet?
Me: Come on, Sue. It was only three and a half years ago.
Sue: Victoria.
Me: Vicki.
Sue: Same thing. I remember there being two Victorias. I’m not completely stupid.

Meanwhile, on the planet Vortis...

Me: Do you remember this story?
Sue: No.
Me: Yes you do. The one with the Zarbi. You remember the Zarbi.
Sue: I try not to.
Me: So what’s it called?
Sue: I don’t know. Something of the Zarbi? What is this? A fucking quiz? Go away!

I decide to shut up for a bit, I didn’t even ask Sue to identify Jean Marsh and Anneke Wills, who are guests at Verity Lambert’s leaving do, deciding she’ll let me know if she spots them (she doesn’t). But my silence seems to do the trick.

Sue: This drama makes me appreciate what they were up against when they made Doctor Who back then. I was probably too hard on the early years, thinking about it now. If I’d known then what I know now, I think I would have warmed to the First Doctor a lot more.
Me: To paraphrase Sydney Newman, “Let’s do it again!”
Sue: You must be joking. Save it for the grandchildren.

When Verity leaves the show for pastures new, the joy begins to seep out of the programme.

Sue: I told you they should have ended it earlier. It’s basically really sad from this point on.

Peter Purves and Jackie Lane are introduced to the press.

Sue: He looks nothing like him. And I don’t know who she is.
Me: It’s Dodo.
Sue: Who?

The actors chosen to play Anneke Wills and Michael Craze don’t fare any better.

Sue: Nah. Not even close.

Hartnell’s deteriorating health eventually leads to his dismissal from the programme.

Sue: This is so sad. I don’t want to watch this.

And when William Hartnell breaks down and admits that he doesn’t want to go, Sue blows her nose, even though she doesn’t have a cold.

Me: Did you get that reference, Sue?
Sue: Shut up, Neil. This is really sad.
Me: Yes, but did you get it?
Sue: Yes. Now shut up.
Me: So what was it, then?
Sue: DAVID FUCKING TENNANT. NOW SHUT UP!
Me: One for the fans, that.

William Hartnell is introduced to his successor.

Sue: Oh, it’s one of The League of Gentlemen. He looks nothing like him. He’s got the walk and the mannerisms, but I look more like Patrick Troughton than he does. But I don’t care. This is brilliant. Maybe they should make a drama like this for all the Doctors. They could get Jon Pertwee’s son to play his dad. He looks just like him.

The Doctor’s companions exit stage left.

Sue: Is Polly wearing Peter Davison’s jumper? Is that another treat for the fans?

As Hartnell prepares to relinquish the role he’ll always be remembered for, he’s transfixed by a vision of the Eleventh Doctor. Or maybe it’s the Twelfth? No wait, I think it’s the Thirteenth. Oh, I don’t know anymore.

Sue: It’s a wonderful moment, but it dates the drama. I mean, why doesn’t he see Peter Capaldi?
Me: Well...
Sue: I know why, Neil. But it doesn’t make any sense. Why hallucinate Matt Smith? Why that Doctor? Why not Tom Baker? I liked this the first time I saw it, but now that I think about it, it is a bit silly.

The drama concludes with a clip from The Dalek Invasion of Earth.

Sue: “One day. Yes, someday...” (sic) Aww, it was really nice to end with the real William Hartnell. Still sad, though. I think I was too hard on him when we were doing the blog. I feel bad about that now.

The credits roll and we instinctively glance towards the spot on the rug where Buffy used to sit. We didn’t want her to go.

THE SCORE

After a nice cup of tea...

Me: So what mark are you going to give that?
Sue: (Laughing) Don’t be ridiculous.
Me: What do you mean?
Sue: (Still laughing) Are you serious? You want me to compare that to Genesis of the Daleks? Give your head a shake, Neil.
Me: But you have to give it something.
Sue: I loved it. What else do you want me to say? It was brilliantly done and very enjoyable. The performances were spot-on and the story was fascinating. You really wanted them to succeed. I can’t fault it. Will that do?
Me: Do you think it would work if you weren’t a Doctor Who fan?
Sue: Well I liked it. So yes. Definitely.

AN UNEARTHLY CHILD REDUX

BLOGGED: 23 November 2014

Sue: Why are we watching this again?
Me: Well, today is the 51st anniversary of Doctor Who -
Sue: Whoopie-fucking-do.
Me: And the first time we did this, almost four years ago, you didn’t say very much about it. You didn’t mention the theme music, the title sequence, the direction, the acting, the -
Sue: And whose fault is that? You never asked! In fact, if I remember correctly, you kept telling me to shut up. You didn’t have a clue, did you?

As I slide the DVD into our PS3 (still no complimentary PS4 from Sony, despite the massive plug in my book), Sue sighs.

Sue: Oh no. This is the one with the cavemen, isn’t it? Do we have to watch this one again? Why can’t we watch the one with the gunslingers? I’d happily watch that one again.
Me: Calm down. We’re only watching the first episode. You know, the important one.
Sue: Oh, okay. That makes sense, I suppose. And I’ve just seen a drama about the making of it, which is handy.
Me: Yeah, anyone would think that I planned this.

Speaking of plans, I was going to show Sue the untransmitted ‘pilot’ after we’d watched the first episode again, but then I remembered that the ‘play all’ option on the DVD engages that version anyway. I know! It’s mad, isn’t it?

Anyway, I couldn’t resist. But will Sue even notice?

Sue: ‘Play all’? I’m not watching all of them. I’m putting my foot down.

She misses the opening peal of thunder because she’s too busy yakking over it.

Sue: The thing about the music, right, is that it needs more bass. It’s a great tune – it’s iconic, obviously – but it sounds like it’s been recorded in a biscuit tin. Oh, look... it’s Dixon of Dock Green.

Some things never change.

Sue: The camera work is a bit wobbly. And the episode isn’t in a rush. Bloody hell, the camera is bouncing all over the place. And this is the second time they’ve recorded this, isn’t it? They should have done it a third time.

The camera enters a junkyard.

Sue: This is a very ambitious shot. I bet it would have looked great if they had a Steadicam. But they didn’t because it’s 1963. Oops, there it goes again.

The camera eventually settles on a police telephone box.

Sue: Loud, isn’t it?

Meanwhile, at Coal Hill school...

Sue: Do we ever find out what that girl whispers to her friend? It seems important. Maybe the Moff will tell us one day. He loves this school.
Me: How do you feel about two teachers from this school appearing in Peter Capaldi’s first series?
Sue: I liked it. I like the way everything has come full circle. Capaldi is a bit of a git, like Hartnell’s Doctor. And Danny was fit, like Ian.

Ian Chesterton is worried about one of his pupils.

Sue: I miss Ian and Barbara. You always knew where you were with Ian and Barbara. They were dependable.

The teachers decide to follow their pupil home because her address doesn’t make any sense – it’s a junkyard.

Sue: So they’re going to stalk one of their students? You wouldn’t get away with that today. They’d probably just check her Facebook status.

Susan Foreman is dancing to John Smith and the Common Men.

Sue: Has she dropped some LSD? No wonder they’re worried about her – she’s on drugs. Quick, call a social worker!

Their unearthly student subjects herself to a Rorschach test.

Sue: Why is Susan drawing the title sequence? And why don’t I remember this bit?

Ian and Barbara drive to Susan’s ‘home’ at 76 Totter’s Lane.

Sue: There are some lovely focus-pulls in this car. Waris is trying his best. It must have been a nightmare to film this in a TV studio. I don’t know how he managed it.

Ian and Barbara can’t understand Susan’s strange behaviour.

Sue: If they were making this episode today, they’d put it down to Asperger’s and none of this would have happened.

When Ian and Barbara investigate the deserted junkyard, they are startled by the face of a clown.

Sue: This is too scary for kids. We’re only 10 minutes into this and it’s stepped over the line already. And the camera work is shocking. Are you sure they filmed this again, Neil?

Before I can answer/lie to her, the Doctor enters the junkyard and opens the door to a police telephone box.

Sue: Is that his sonic screwdriver? I think it is, you know. Look at it. It’s tiny.

When the teachers confront him, the old man denies he’s trapped a schoolgirl in a cupboard.

Sue: I can’t get over how creepy this is. I would definitely call the police. You wouldn’t get away with this today. And this is supposed to be for kids!

Barbara stumbles into the TARDIS.

Sue: Bloody hell, what a racket. Has Susan left the microwave on?
Me: Still an amazing moment, though, don’t you think?
Sue: It must have freaked the audience out, especially the kids, if they made it this far. No one would have known what the fuck was going on.

Ian certainly doesn’t.

Sue: I miss Ian. Have I mentioned that? He’s brilliant. Actually, this is an excellent introduction to the programme. The script holds up really well. It’s much better than I remember.

The Doctor seems to relish the teachers’ confusion.

Sue: Now that’s scary. Look at him! If you didn’t know you were watching Doctor Who, you’d think he was a demented serial killer.

Ian and the Doctor lock horns.

Sue: Wow. This is very intense. I don’t remember it being this intense.

Ian tries to open the door and is electrocuted in the process.

Sue: So the Doctor assaults and kidnaps Ian and Barbara. Why doesn’t the Doctor wipe their minds instead? I know he can do that, so why doesn’t he?

Instead, the Doctor convinces himself to take drastic action.

Sue: William Hartnell is fantastic. I’m not sure if that’s because I saw that drama yesterday, and that’s made me more forgiving, but you can’t take your eyes off him. However, I stand by what I said when I first saw this – the Doctor is a horrible character. Horrible.

The TARDIS dematerialises.

Sue: It’s taking a long time to get the engines going. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t done it in ages and it needs a jump-start.
Me: What are you looking at me like that for?

And then the TARDIS materialises again.

Sue: The shadow of a Zarbi would have been scarier.

Cue credits.

Sue: Shall we watch the next one? I don’t mind.
Me: No, we don’t have to do that.
Sue: I’ll watch it if you want me to. Just so you know.
Me: You actually want to watch the next one, don’t you?
Sue: A bit. It seems a bit silly to leave it there.
Me: We have to watch something else first. Didn’t you notice anything odd about that episode? Anything at all?
Sue: Yes, the whole thing was odd.
Me: Yes, well, erm... I’m sorry. There’s no easy way to say this, Sue, but that wasn’t the episode they broadcast.
Sue: I knew it! I knew it was different! You bastard. Hang on, I didn’t see the doors opening and closing by themselves. Did they make that bit up?

I navigate to the DVD’s extra features and fast-forward to the calamity she’s referring to. She laughs her head off at first, but then grimaces every time she hears the doors banging off-screen.

Sue: Bloody hell. It’s even worse than I thought.
Me: Okay, let’s watch the transmitted version now.
Sue: What? Why?
Me: So you can see how they did it differently.
Sue: That will be boring. I’ve just seen it. I haven’t got anything else to say about it. Why don’t we ask Nicol to watch it with us? I don’t think she’s seen it before.

Amazingly, Nicol agreed. Sort of.

Me: Are you going to put your phone down, Nic?
Nicol: Yes. Just start it.
Me: No, it’s okay, I’ll wait for you to put your phone down.

Five minutes later, I hit ‘play’.

Sue: There’s more fog in this version. They must have turned up the smoke machine so the audience wouldn’t notice the camera crashing into the scenery. He really does look like Dixon of Dock Green, you know. Are you absolutely sure it isn’t him, Neil?

It’s the end of another day at Coal Hill School.

Sue: Do you recognise this place, Nicol?
Nicol: Yes, it’s where Clara works.
Sue: Clever, isn’t it?
Nicol: If you say so.
Sue: Ooh, that’s different. She didn’t whisper to her friend this time.
Me: That’s because a young Kenneth Williams got in her way.

I rewind the scene.

Sue: Frankie Howerd, surely? Maybe that’s who she was whispering about. That would make sense.

Ian and Barbara are still worried about Susan Foreman.

Nicol: Is she half-human?
Me: No, she’s Gallifreyan. At least I think she is.
Sue: So the Doctor has definitely ‘done it’ at least once.
Nicol: Mother!

I was going to mention looms at this point, but decide against it.

Nicol: What happens to her? Does she die?
Me: No, she gets dumped on Earth.
Nicol: But that doesn’t make sense. The Doctor is supposed to be the last of his kind, yet he can’t be the last of his kind if she’s still out there somewhere. Why doesn’t she come back?
Me: She could come back. In fact, I thought Missy was Susan just a few weeks ago.
Sue: Idiot.
Nicol: Are you sure she isn’t a supply teacher. She looks like she’s in her 30s.
Sue: I miss Ian.

Ian and Barbara follow Susan into a junkyard on Totter’s Lane.

Sue: This is a lot clearer. They must have used up all the fog because you can see more of the set’s carpentry in this version.
Me: And less clowns.
Sue: Yes, they’ve definitely toned down the scary bits.

This becomes even more apparent when the Doctor shows up.

Sue: He’s more absent-minded and less aggressive in this version.
Me: Yeah, he’s playing a happy-go-lucky serial killer, this time.
Sue: They’ve changed the Doctor’s clothes, as well. Bloody hell. I feel like I’m playing spot the difference or Where’s Wally?, and there isn’t even a prize.

Barbara bursts into the time machine.

Sue: That was a better entrance. They didn’t use a close-up of Barbara last time. This version is more dramatic and strange. Although Susan seems more normal – more like a teenager than an alien.

Susan claims that she invented the word TARDIS.

Me: Don’t you think that’s a bit weird, Sue?
Sue: Not really.
Me: But if Susan came up with the word TARDIS, she must be a very important Time Lady.
Sue: And?
Me: Well, it’s a bit weird. Isn’t it?
Sue: Maybe she won a competition before she left Gallifrey. Or maybe the Doctor invented the TARDIS and he asked his granddaughter to name it for him. We just don’t know.
Nicol: Can she regenerate?
Me: Probably.
Nicol: If she regenerated into a man, would he still be his granddaughter?

Susan begs her grandfather to let her stay on Earth, but he won’t listen.

Sue: He’s still horrible, just in a different way.

The TARDIS dematerialises.

Sue: This still goes on too long. “Ooh, look at us! We can make pretty patterns by pointing a camera at a television screen! Aren’t we clever! And on drugs, probably!”

The TARDIS rematerialises (still no sign of a Zarbi, sadly).

Sue: Sydney was right – it was worth doing again. I still don’t like the Doctor very much, but he was more mad than evil this time, and that’s a step in the right direction, I guess.

THE SCORE

Me: So what mark are you going to give that, Sue?
Sue: I gave it a mark four years ago, I’m not going to do it again.
Me: Yes, but so much has happened since then.
Sue: What did I give it last time?
Me: Seven out of 10.
Sue: That sounds about right.
Me: So you won’t mark it up with the benefit of hindsight?
Sue: No. That will interfere with the graphs. And if I go back and mark this one, you’ll make me mark all of them again. And that’s never going to happen, Neil. What about you, Nicol? What did you think of it?
Me: Don’t ask her. She didn’t watch it.
Nicol: Yes I did.
Me: If you watched it, you did it through your phone. It’s available on DVD, Nic – you don’t have to pirate it.
Nicol: I listened to every word. It was a bit slow.
Sue: It’s worth at least a seven. At least.

Make of that what you will.

Me: Do you still want to watch ‘The Cave of Skulls’?
Sue: No thanks. You’ll probably make me watch it twice.

MARCO POLO REDUX

Blogged: 29 January 2015

The thought of watching a seven-part reconstruction with Sue fills me with deja vu and dread. But mainly dread.

Me: What makes it even worse is that it probably exists.
Sue: In a garage somewhere?
Me: Yeah, something like that. God, this is so depressing.
Sue: Maybe we could leave some blank pages in the book, and then the reader could copy what we say about it after they’ve found it. They could reconstruct it. Fans love doing stuff like that.
Me: We should have watched it four years ago when we had the chance.
Sue: I did warn you. I knew this would happen.
Me: I was worried about you making it through The Sensorites. I thought I was doing the right thing.
Sue: Come on, Neil. It’s only four episodes.
Me: Seven, actually.
Sue: Oh, for fuck’s sake!

THE ROOF OF THE WORLD

The TARDIS has arrived on a mountain top on Earth.

Sue: I like Barbara’s coat. And Susan looks like she’s just farted, which probably explains why the Doctor is in such a foul mood.

The TARDIS crew bump into a Mongol Warlord named Tegana, who tries to kill them immediately. Thankfully, another man saves them in the name of Kublai Khan.

Sue: Everything I know about Kublai Khan I learned from Frankie Goes to Hollywood.
Me: Absolutely nothing, then?

Barbara recognises their saviour immediately, but Ian is too busy explaining why water boils differently at higher altitudes to notice.

Sue: This is very nice. It’s a history lesson and a science lesson all rolled into one. Sydney would have loved this.

I don’t have the heart to tell her that this story isn’t exactly famous for its historical accuracy, although Ian is spot on when it comes to the water. Oh, and speaking of inaccuracies...

Sue: It’s Tony Hadley from Spandau Ballet.

Marco Polo (for it is he) is travelling to Shang-Tu with Tegana and Ping-Cho, a 16 year-old girl who has been betrothed to a 75 year-old man.

Sue: This is so dodgy, I don’t even know where to begin.

Tegana believes the Doctor is a magician who travels in a Warlord’s tomb.

Sue: Well, he’s half-right, I suppose.

Even Marco has noticed the Doctor’s caravan doesn’t have any wheels.

Sue: So what? Our caravan didn’t have any wheels, either. “Gold!”
Me: Stop that.
Sue: I can’t. He’s the spitting double of Tony, especially in this image, here. You know, the one they keep cutting back to all the fucking time.

The Doctor interrupts Ping-Cho while she’s cooking dinner.

Sue: This is exactly what it’ll be like when she ends up married to a pensioner.

Marco admits he wants to impress Kublai Khan so he can finally return home to Venice.

Sue: I bet he has the hots for Khan’s sister, Chaka.

The Doctor’s reaction to the news that Marco plans to hand his magical cabinet over to the Khan is difficult to gauge at first.

Sue: Is the Doctor crying or laughing?
Me: Laughing, I think.
Sue: It must be the altitude. I’ve seen video footage of you in a tent halfway up Kilimanjaro, crying with laughter over nothing. Yeah, he’s showing all the signs. He’ll vomit over himself in a minute.

The episode concludes with the revelation Tegana plans to poison Marco’s water supply.

Sue: Hey, it’s pretty good, this. Stick the next one on.

THE SINGING SANDS

Sue: Well that’s completely stupid for a start.

She’s referring to the way in which Marco Polo has elected to transport the Doctor’s TARDIS across a desert.

Sue: He should lay it on its side. He’s an idiot.

She’s much more impressed with Tegana.

Sue: He’s got a lovely voice. Plus he looks like Drogo from Game of Thrones crossed with Ryland from The X-Factor.

The Doctor, on the other hand, is conspicuous by his absence.

Sue: Has William Hartnell gone on holiday? He used to do that all the time, didn’t he? This must be the episode where he suns himself on a beach somewhere while Ian and Barbara do all the heavy lifting. The git.

A storm is coming...

Sue: This reminds me of New Year’s Eve 2006. The one we spent under the Tyne Tunnel with no radio reception when the bells chimed midnight. Our caravan took one hell of a beating that night. And it didn’t have a police box nailed to its roof, either.

Susan and Ping-Cho are lost in the storm.

Sue: I wonder how this would have looked. It sounds horrific. It’s driven all of our cats out of the room.

Tegana is intrigued by Marco’s journal.

Sue: He’s keeping a diary about what he did in Spandau Ballet, just in case he decides to sue Gary Kemp.

Tegana destroys Marco’s water supply, and then the Doctor re-enters the story, just in time to faint.

Sue: He should have brought some duty free back with him. Do you remember when our caravan didn’t have any water for a week, Neil? That was pretty grim. I can really relate to this.

Tegana offers to hike to a nearby oasis.

Sue: Take more than one bottle with you, you idiot! Take all of them! Oh, too late. They’ll be lucky if they get a single mouthful each. Unbelievable.

And then Tegana breaks his promise and fails to return with any water at all.

Sue: What a bastard. It’s quite good, this. We should have watched this ages ago.

FIVE HUNDRED EYES

Ian’s lip-smacking thirst causes Sue’s imagination to run riot.

Sue: Is Ian snogging Marco Polo? It sounds like he is.

Oh, and the TARDIS appears to be leaking.

Sue: Maybe the swimming pool is overflowing?

The reason for the leak is more prosaic, and Ian goes to great lengths to explain it.

Sue: And today’s lesson, children, is ‘Condensation’. God, I hope there isn’t a test later.

Marco’s caravan arrives at a way station in Tun-Huang. Write that down in your copybook now.

Sue: The sets and costumes look very impressive in these photos. It’s such a shame it doesn’t exist. I bet they find this story as soon as we finish it. It’ll be just our luck.

Ping-Cho has a tale to tell.

Sue: Now it’s turned into Jackanory. And is it just me or is this the story of Aladdin?

Ala-eddin, actually. But never mind that – the next lesson is about to begin.

Sue: I don’t see how assassins and hashish go together. Surely they’d be too stoned to get the job done. And who’d hire a killer who could be distracted by the munchies?

Barbara decides to explore the Cave of Five Hundred Eyes.

Sue: And that’s why recons don’t always work. That scene was probably really scary and tense, instead of boring and confusing.

The Doctor talks to Chenchu, manager of the way station.

Sue: You made my brother dress up as this character once.

Don’t forget to buy Volume Six to read the full story behind this cosplay catastrophe.

Sue: Wow. This actor sounds even less Chinese than Gary did. More like Widow Twankey. It’s borderline offensive, actually. Hang on a minute, are you sure this isn’t Aladdin?

When the Doctor, Susan and Ping-Cho search for Barbara, Sue feels compelled to sing the Indiana Jones theme tune.

Sue: It looks like they’ve actually spent some money on this. I keep expecting a big boulder to chase them away.

The episode ends with Susan screaming the place down: “They moved! The eyes moved!”

Sue: I wish they bloody would.

THE WALL OF LIES

I decide to treat Sue to a colour reconstruction of the fourth episode. You know, just for the sheer hell of it.

Sue: Are you sure people won’t expect us to go back and watch this again in black and white?
Me: Probably.
Sue: “Gold!” You know, he looks even more like him in colour.

The Doctor says he ain’t afraid of no ghosts.

Sue: Who you gonna call? Spandau Ballet!

Ian strikes a pose.

Sue: Ian looks like he’s auditioning for a part in Are You Being Served? And the Tegana looks like he’s blowing a raspberry at him. That’s unfortunate.

The Doctor is left to fondle a lamp.

Sue: That reminds me: Don’t trust Tegana. HE’S BEHIND YOU!

Susan – and Sue – are worried about Ping-Cho’s welfare.

Sue: Just take her with you. She’d still have to put up with a doddery old man, but at least she wouldn’t have to sleep with him.

Ping-Cho realises Tegana has been lying to them.

Sue: She’s the Chinese detective.

And the Doctor isn’t exactly thrilled about being locked out of his TARDIS.

Sue: This is pathetic. David Tennant would have clicked his fingers and left by now.

RIDER FROM SHANG-TU

Sue: Oh, it’s black and white again. Spoilsport.
Me: It was too distracting.
Sue: What was it distracting you from, Neil? The fast-moving plot? You fuckwit.

Today’s lesson: Bamboo explodes when you set fire to it.

Sue: Well, you learn something new every day. Hey, even Ian looks like a member of Spandau Ballet in this episode. That’s just the sort of thing the Kemps would have worn on Top of the Pops.
Me: Give it a rest, love.
Sue: (Singing) “I know this much is true.”

Marco’s caravan is about to be set upon by bandits.

Sue: Oh, great. That means I’m in for five minutes of wheezing and groaning while I’m left to work out what the hell is going on.
Me: Story of your life, love.

As the fight rages on, Sue has other things on her mind.

Sue: It must take them hours to erect Marco’s tent every day. Hours.

The crew can’t wait to bugger off in the TARDIS.

Sue: Just get Ian to knock Marco out, take the key and leave. Or, better still, offer to take Marco home in the TARDIS. It would save him loads of time.
Me: Only if he doesn’t mind going via revolutionary France, the planet Vortis and the Empire State Building.
Sue: Oh yeah, the Doctor can’t steer the TARDIS yet. I’d completely forgotten about that. He was bloody useless back then, wasn’t he? Oh, this is so frustrating.

Susan and Ping-Cho have become firm friends.

Sue: I love Ping-Cho. I don’t know why they don’t take her with them. What else has she got to look forward to? An old man pawing at her breasts? Even the Daleks would be preferable to that.

Oh look, it’s Tutte Lemkow as the thief, Kuiju.

Sue: Oh God. It’s all coming back to me now. You made me dress up as him, once.

I would like to stress that it was only the once. The final volume will explain everything. Probably.

Sue: The things you’ve made me do, Neil. And yet, if I ask you to empty the dishwasher, I never hear the end of it. It isn’t fair, you know.

Thanks to Ping-Cho, the Doctor finally gains access to his TARDIS, but his escape plan goes pear-shaped when Susan wanders off.

Sue: Just get in the bloody thing and GO! I can’t believe they’re going to drag this out for another two episodes. Unbelievable.
Me: So you want to cut a long story short, eh? Have you lost your mind? ... Geddit?
Sue: No.

MIGHTY KUBLAI KHAN

The battle for ownership of the TARDIS enters its third hour...

Sue: I don’t understand why Marco is so desperate to get his hands on it. As far as he knows it’s a blue box that doesn’t actually do anything. Now, if he’d actually been inside it, I could understand why he’d be so keen.

Ian comes clean and tells Marco the truth – they are time travellers from the future.

Sue: This is quite clever. Marco sounds like Ian did in the first episode – completely dumbfounded. But what I don’t understand is how Marco can believe the TARDIS is magical but he can’t believe it travels in time. And now he knows it does travel in time, surely that will make it less likely he’ll want to hand it over. Oh, this is doing my head in.

Fearing Marco’s wrath, Ping-Cho runs back to the Way Station, where she encounters Kuiju and his pet monkey, Ralph.

Sue: When was The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy made, Neil?
Me: (Baffled) Er... Why?
Sue: (Pointing at Kuiju) He reminds me of one of its characters.
Me: (Even more baffled) Eh? What?
Sue: You know, the freaky one with the eyepatch and two heads. Beadlewhatsit. Okay, the monkey’s head is a bit smaller, but it’s the same idea. Douglas Adams definitely saw this episode.

Kuiju cons Ping-Cho out of her life savings and steals the TARDIS. Ian is furious when he finds out.

Sue: He only stole it two minutes ago. He can’t have gotten that far. Stop moaning about it and CHASE HIM!

Oh, and my wife definitely has the hots for Tegana. I just thought I’d clear that up.

Sue: He has such a lovely voice. I could listen to him for hours.
Me: You have listened to him for hours.
Sue: I wish I could see him move.
Me: I bet you bloody do.

When Marco’s caravan arrives at the Khan’s summer palace, the Doctor is told he will have to bow down before the mighty leader.

Sue: William Hartnell is very funny in this episode. I’m really glad I’ve seen this, now. The 20-minute version didn’t do it justice. We should have watched this in the first place.
Me: Yes, I know.
Sue: It was silly not to.
Me: Yes, I know.
Sue: You should have trusted me a bit more.
Me: Yes, I know.
Sue: I’m always right.
Me: Okay, you can stop now.

Everyone kowtows to Kublai Khan as he enters the palace. All except the Doctor, whose bad back is playing up.

Sue: (Chuckling) I bet this would be hilarious if you could actually see it. Although the still photos of people’s bums sticking up in the air is still pretty funny.

The Khan offers to soothe the Doctor’s aches and pains with the healing waters he uses to treat his gout, which sounds delightful.

Sue: Is Kublai Khan flirting with the Doctor? Well, I didn’t expect that. Are they really going to take a bath together? Isn’t that a bit like the Doctor agreeing to share a sauna with Hitler?

Ian and Ping-Cho track Kuiju down to a roadside clearing.

Sue: How the hell did he carry the TARDIS there? On his back? I’m pretty sure the monkey wouldn’t have been much help, so that’s a mystery.

Ian forces Kuiju to return Ping-Cho’s stolen money (like a demented Matt Allwright), and then the episode concludes with Tegana threatening to slice Ping-Cho’s head off.

Sue: Wow. Tegana’s sword is massive.

ASSASSIN AT PEKING

Tegana wants to rule the world with the TARDIS by his side, even when Ian informs him the Doctor is the only person who can operate it.

Sue: (Laughing) Are you quite sure about that, Ian?

Meanwhile, the Doctor challenges the Khan to a game of backgammon. If he wins, the TARDIS will be returned to him. Marco isn’t exactly thrilled when he finds out.

Sue: Poor Marco. He’ll have to find an all-night garage so he can buy Kublai Khan some flowers instead.

The Doctor loses the game.

Sue: Why is the Doctor laughing? This isn’t funny, you know!

There is some good news, though – Ping-Cho is spared a great deal of misery when her fiancé accidentally kills himself by drinking a so-called ‘elixir of life’.

Sue: So he overdosed on Viagra before the big day? Talk about a lucky escape! Bit of an anti-climax, though.
Me: Yeah, especially for him.

Tegana dispatches the Khan’s guards and moves in for the kill. Only Marco stands in his way.

Sue: Even as a recon, this is very tense.

Tegana would rather fall on a spear than be taken alive.

Sue: That was a bit grim. You’ve got to admire him, though. He had the courage of his convictions.
Me: I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to mourn him.
Sue: And he had such a lovely voice, too.

Marco and Ping-Cho bid the TARDIS crew farewell.

Sue: Take her with you!
Me: Stop saying that!
Sue: Oh, I know they don’t take her with them, but they should’ve done. She would have been great. What a waste.

Marco is left to imagine the Doctor wandering through time and space in his magical caravan.

Sue: I can’t believe Marco never peeked inside it. All that time he had the TARDIS key and he wasn’t even a little bit curious? What an idiot. “GOLD!”

THE SCORE

Sue: I really enjoyed that.
Me: Good. So are you going to give it a revised score?
Sue: I can’t. I keep thinking about the sanity of the people who made all those bar charts and graphs. I don’t want to give them any more work to do. It wouldn’t be fair.
Me: But that means your definitive score for this story is missing.
Sue: Well, you never know, someone might find it someday. In a garage, perhaps.
Me: But it’s worth more than the six you gave it originally, yes?
Sue: Oh yes. Definitely. It’s much too long, though. It could have been four parts, easily.
Me: Higher than a seven?
Sue: I’m not playing that game, Neil. And I can’t give it too high a score, just in case they ever find the real thing. Actually, I’ll make a deal with you – you find Marco Polo, and I’ll mark it.

GALAXY 4 REDUX

Blogged: 31 January 2015

Sue: Remind me why we’re doing this again.
Me: We’re about to watch a Hartnell episode that an old man found in his shed. After you’ve seen this one, you’ve seen them all.
Sue: Like I care.
Me: Unless they find another one after we publish the book.
Sue: Leave lots of blank pages at the back. Just in case.
Me: Anyway, it’s the third episode of a four-part story called Galaxy 4. Ring any bells?
Sue: Not really, no. What’s it about?
Me: You’ll find out in a minute.
Sue: We’re not watching the whole thing again, are we? I’ve already seen the recons, so that would be pointless. And cruel.
Me: Well, the BBC have kindly edited the recons into a -
Sue: Oh, for fuck’s sake, Neil!

FOUR HUNDRED DAWNS - TRAP OF STEEL

Sue: I remember these two.
Me: I should bloody well hope so. It’s Steven and Vicki.
Sue: I barely remember Vicki, but I really liked Steven.
Me: I know. Unfortunately, he’s playing Barbara in this episode.
Sue: Pardon?
Me: This episode was written for Ian and Barbara, and Steven is playing Barbara.
Sue: Is that why he’s wearing a cardigan?

As luck would have it, we recently listened to William Hartnell’s appearance on a 1965 edition of Desert Island Discs. I don’t know whether the recording was discovered in an old man’s shed or not.

Sue: William Hartnell sounds nothing like the Doctor in real life, which surprised me. I thought he was playing himself, but he isn’t. He’s acting his socks off.

When a CGI-Chumbley trundles into view (anybody can see a CGI-Chumbley these days – it’s no big deal), the penny finally drops.

Sue: Oh, I remember this, now. I remember it being shit.

She refused to say very much after that (she suggests that you click here and read that instead), but she perks up again when the still photographs suddenly give way to moving images.

Sue: (Sitting up straight) Here we go. A brand new episode of Doctor Who.
Me: Hold your horses. We’ve seen this before.
Sue: Eh?
Me: This is a missing bit they found earlier. Trust me, we’ve seen this before.
Sue: Did I do something horrible in a previous life? Is that it?

When we originally watched Galaxy 4, Sue thought the Drahvins’ leader, Maaga, was the spitting-double of Petula Clarke.

Sue: I was wrong. She’s a young Shirley Carter. It’s the hair.

The Drahvins have crash-landed on a desolate planet, along with another spaceship piloted by their rivals, the Rills. Oh, and the planet is about to explode.

Sue: I remember this. The women are the baddies, and the Rills are the goodies. The women may look like narcoleptic Mary Quant models, but you can trust them.

The Doctor and Vicki are instructed to steal the Rills’ ship while the Drahvins hold Barbara Steven hostage. The episode concludes with our first tantalising glimpse of a Rill.

Sue: It looks like a startled walrus.
Me: You said it looked like a giant poo last time.
Sue: This time it looks like a startled walrus having a poo.

AIR LOCK

Me: Just so we’re clear – you haven’t seen this episode before.
Sue: Is it any good?
Me: I don’t know. I haven’t seen it, either.
Sue: Oh. Has it just been released on DVD?
Me: No, it’s been out on DVD for ages.
Sue: I don’t understand. Why haven’t you seen it?

I tell her what she wants to hear – I waited until I could watch it with her – instead of the truth, which is, well, you know, it’s an episode of Galaxy 4.

Sue: Ooh, that was a very ambitious camera move. I never would have guessed that the direction was this good.

Sadly, she’s forced to change her tune when the Doctor and Vicki hide from a Chumbley behind a small desk.

Sue: Oh dear. The Chumblies can’t see for shit. I bet that looked all right in the recon. What a shame.

When they attempt to escape from the Rills’ ship, Vicki is trapped behind a metal gate.

Sue: Just climb though one of its massive holes. Even you could fit through that, Neil. And your arse is massive.

While the Doctor and Vicki debate their next move, Sue spots a Chumbley loitering at the back of the set, waiting for its cue.

Sue: I wouldn’t have noticed that in the recon, either. It’s swings and roundabouts, isn’t it?

And then Maaga delivers a chilling speech, straight down the lens.

Sue: Wow. That was fucking brilliant. She didn’t even blink!

A Rill offers to help Vicki and her friends.

Me: This is so infuriating. We still can’t see a proper Rill.
Sue: Yes, you do. It’s right there in front of you. Are you blind?

Vicki wants a better look as well, but the Rill declines her request.

Sue: What’s he talking about? She can see him already. That screen is more transparent than he thinks. He really ought to put some clothes on.

Vicki is adamant that she wants to see more.

Sue: You have to subscribe to the premium channel if you want to see everything, pet.

Steven tries to escape from the Drahvins’ ship.

Sue: Peter Purves just punched a woman in the face.
Me: This scene was originally written for Barbara, remember.
Sue: I don’t care. Peter Purves just punched a woman in the face.

In other news, Sue still believes the Rills’ spaceship resembles a temporary exhibit in a conference hall, and she still thinks the Chumblies are kinda cute.

Sue: Do you reckon they scattered sawdust over the floor to give the Chumblies more grip? Because you’d think all these Henry vacuum cleaners would have cleaned that mess up by now.

Steven is trapped in an airlock, his oxygen rapidly running out. Maaga gives the astronaut three choices: Stay there and die, go outside and be killed by a Chumbley, or...

Me: Tell her that you like her poetry.

When the Doctor and Vicki realise Steven is in trouble, they come up with a daring plan to rescue him.

Sue: Oh, for God’s sake! Talk on the way!

The episode concludes with Steven out for the count.

Sue: Is that it? Have I seen them all? Can we stop now?
Me: No.

THE EXPLODING PLANET

Maaga cuts off her nose to spite her face.

Sue: Stupid cow. If she gets her way, none of them will get off this sodding planet. Whoever wrote this story was probably scared of women.

At least Vicki’s wish comes true when she’s granted an audience with four (stark-naked) Rills. I’m so jealous.

Sue: They look like catfish crossed with slugs. And they smell of cat’s piss, too. Don’t forget that.

As a Chumbley escorts our heroes back to their TARDIS, the Rills’ spaceship leaves the doomed planet behind.

Sue: What about that poor Chumbley? Has it been left there to die? Why didn’t the Doctor take it with him?
Me: We don’t see what happens to the Chumbley. At least not in this recon. Maybe the Doctor took it with him, after all. Maybe it’s still inside the TARDIS, hoovering.

The TARDIS dematerialises and the Drahvins are left to burn to death.

Sue: Serves them bloody right.

Cue credits.

Sue: That was all right. What did I give it last time?
Me: A very generous two out of 10.
Sue: Really? I thought I would had given it a five, or something like that. It wasn’t that bad.
Me: Is that your revised score, then? Five out of 10?
Sue: I’ll give it 4.75 out of 10. There, stick that in your graphs.

AN INTERVIEW WITH SUE

When we were raising the funds we needed to publish this book, we offered one of our readers the chance to quiz Sue about the Hartnell years for the chapter you are about to read. And even though he probably regrets it now, Richard Smith – who secured that opportunity – generously decided to hand over his questions to everyone who made this book possible. This is what they came with.

Umeir: If William Hartnell hadn’t been asked to take on the role of the Doctor, who would you have chosen instead?
Sue: Peter Capaldi.
Me: Peter Capaldi was only five years old in 1963.
Sue: Oh, I see. Right. You meant who would I have cast in 1963, don’t you? Well, in that case, I have no idea. How would I know who was famous in 1963? I could barely talk.

I open a folder on my iPad that I’ve filled with black and white images of Geoffrey Bayldon, Cyril Cusack, Leslie French, Alan Webb and Hugh David. Finding a decent picture of Alan Webb was tricky, I can tell you.

Sue: I don’t know who these people are.
Me: Yes you do. (Pointing at Geoffrey Bayldon circa 1963) He’s Catweazle.
Sue: So he is. I can see that working, actually. Yeah, I’d probably pick him. (Pointing at Hugh David) He’s too young. And he’s too scary (Frowning at Alan Webb). Yeah, I’d choose Catweazle.
Me: Funnily enough, there’s a Big Finish audio where -
Sue: (Yawning) Next question.

Incredibly, three people asked the next question (or one person with three IP addresses).

Jeremy, Howard and Darren Kramble: What does the first Doctor smell like?
Sue: Woodbines and despair.
Alex Henderson: In 1964’s The Dalek Invasion of Earth, a bridge collapses, preventing access to the TARDIS. The Doctor has a hissy fit, blaming the collapse on Susan “dashing about and being far too curious”. The Doctor then tells Susan that what she deserves is “a jolly good smacked bottom!” Sue, do you feel this is an appropriate and considered response from the Doctor, and does the punishment fit the crime?
Sue: Absolutely not. You should never hit your grandchildren. But it was a different world back then. I mean, can you imagine Peter Capaldi spanking Clara’s bottom today?
Me: Yes. Sorry, I mean, no. No. Definitely not... Sorry, where were we?
Jon: Do you think the BBC should remake some of the old ‘lost’ Hartnell stories in colour, with a new actor as the Doctor (maybe David Bradley) or are they better off as reconstructions?
Sue: No, I think it’s a great idea. They’ve already got the cast, the sets and the costumes, so it’d be stupid not to. But they’d have to make them shorter. You couldn’t string Marco Polo out for three hours – you’d have to do it in 45 minutes. What worries me is that as soon as they finish remaking it, some idiot will find the real thing and the fans will want to watch that instead, which means the whole thing will have been a complete waste of time. So it’ll never happen. Maybe they could make some new stories instead. You know, stories with Ian, Barbara and Susan. Stories we’ve never seen before. I would definitely watch that.
Edward: Should David Bradley’s Doctor team up with Peter Capaldi’s Doctor? And if they did, what would happen?
Sue: It would be brilliant, although they’d probably argue with each other and sulk. Clara would have to give them a kick up the arse and then they’d finally agree to work together to defeat whatever it was they had to defeat. But they’d do it in a really bad mood. The only thing they’d have in common is a deep resentment for their younger, more attractive selves.
Me: And which monster would they unite to defeat?
Sue: I don’t know. The mad Chumbley that’s gone insane hoovering the TARDIS all these years.
Ged Sweeney: Hartnell, Hurndall, Bradley – Snog, Marry, Avoid?
Sue: Who the hell is Hurndall?
Me: He replaced William Hartnell in The Five Doctors. Remember?
Sue: Vaguely. What a choice... Is the person who asked this question into necrophilia or something? Okay, I’d snog the one who’s still alive (obviously), I’d marry Hartnell (although I don’t know how that would work), and I’ll continue to avoid the other one, thank you very much.
Catherine: Which famous figure from history should the First Doctor have met?
Sue: Hitler.
Ash Mason: If all the missing Hartnell episodes were suddenly returned, would you actually want to watch them? Are there any stories in particular that you’d like to see?
Sue: Neil has assured me that this is the last time I’ll ever have to think about William Hartnell, whatever happens with these so-called missing episodes. So no, I don’t think so. Then again, I wouldn’t believe a word Neil says. He said we’d never blog the new series.
Me: Yes, but would you watch them if they found them? And we’re only blogging Christopher Eccleston, by the way.
Sue: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Neil. Anyway, if you told me they’d found Marco Polo, then yes, I probably would. I’d be curious to see how it compares to what I sat through a few days ago. The fans should pull their fingers out and make it happen.
Ann Worrall: Why do you reckon the First Doctor left Gallifrey with Susan?
Sue: Well, Gallifrey looks like a dreadful place to live, so he probably wanted a nice day out. Maybe he popped out for some Woodbines and couldn’t find his way home. Maybe it was something really simple like that. I don’t know why he took Susan with him, though. Or why he chose a TARDIS that didn’t work properly. That was a bit daft.
Me: Clara told him to take the faulty TARDIS. She said he’d have more fun that way.
Sue: Oh yeah. So she did. What a stupid thing to say. I wonder how many people died because of that?
Melvin Pena: Sue, what’s your most endearing memory of William Hartnell?
Sue: The bit where he says, “I don’t want to go.”
Me: You do know that wasn’t William Hartnell, don’t you?
Sue: Oh. In that case, the “Someday, yes someday...” (sic) bit when the Doctor leaves Susan behind. That always gets me.
Me: One final question before we go: When I asked you to sum up the First Doctor in three words for the blog in June 2011, you said, “Moody, odd and sad.” Do you still stand by that?
Sue: Are you sure that isn’t a typo, and what I actually said was, “Moody, old and sad”? Because that would make more sense.

SUE’S SCORES

An Unearthly Child: The Doctor’s horrible. 7/10

100,000 BC: Too much grunting. 4/10

The Daleks: How could anyone be scared of the Daleks? 3/10

The Edge of Destruction: It certainly wasn’t boring. 2/10

Marco Polo: It’s a shame it’s missing. 6/10

The Keys of Marinus: The acting was dreadful. 4/10

The Aztecs: Pretty good. 7/10

The Sensorites: The writer is obsessed with haberdashery. 5/10

The Reign of Terror: This isn’t children’s television. 4/10

Planet of Giants: The sets were fantastic. 7/10

The Dalek Invasion of Earth: I hope David is good in bed. 7/10

The Rescue: The plot was practically nonexistent. 3/10

The Romans: I like Dennis Spooner a lot. 8/10

The Web Planet: JUST STOP! 1/10

The Crusade: It didn’t outstay its welcome. 7/10

The Space Museum: Ahead of its time. 6/10

The Chase: I’m bored of the Daleks. 5/10

The Time Meddler: The most enjoyable story so far. 9/10

Galaxy 4: That wasn’t very good. 2/10

Mission to the Unknown: It reminded me of Babylon 5. 6/10

The Myth Makers: Mostly excellent. 8/10

The Daleks’ Master Plan: It didn’t half go on. 5/10

The Massacre of St Bartholomew’s Eve: What a stupid twist. 2/10

The Ark: The Monoids were too silly for words. 5/10

The Celestial Toymaker: Complete shite. 0/10

The Gunfighters: We could watch it again! 8/10

The Savages: It was surprisingly engaging, for a recon. 7/10

The War Machines: It didn’t feel like Doctor Who. 6/10

The Smugglers: I’ll have forgotten it by next week. 5/10

The Tenth Planet: Is that it? 3/10

NEXT TIME

DALEKS

CYBERMEN

THE MASTER (NO, NOT THAT ONE)

THE DOG FROM THE THING

and GARY

in

THE SCRUFFY DRUNK:
THE WIFE IN SPACE VOLUME 2

The Power of the Daleks to The War Games

Plus:

The Underwater Menace Redux
The Enemy of the World Redux
The Web of Fear Redux
The Mind Robber video transcript

and a foreword by
Toby ‘TV’s racist barman’ Hadoke

Pre-orders begin April 2015

www.suemebooks.com
www.wifeinspace.com

COMING SOON FROM
SUE ME BOOKS

August 2015
The Scruffy Drunk:
The Wife in Space Volume 2

November 2015
The Pompous Tory:
The Wife in Space Volume 3

March 2016
The Mad One:
The Wife in Space Volume 4

August 2016
The Fit One:
The Wife in Space Volume 5

November 2016
The Court Jester, The Crafty One & The One-Night Stand:
The Wife in Space Volume 6

###

Thank you for reading this book. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave a review at your favourite retailer. Many thanks.

Follow us on Twitter: http://twitter.com/wifeinspace

Friend us on Facebook: http://facebook.com/wifeinspace

Subscribe to our blog: http://www.wifeinspace.com