Showing posts with label 1964. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1964. Show all posts

Monday, 22 June 2020

Dr Who #8: Planet of Giants




A TARDIS malfunction leaves the ship and crew back on Earth but shrunk to miniature size. The Doctor, Susan, Ian, and Barbara are thrust into a conspiracy involving a murder, a shady businessman and a deadly pesticide that could threaten all life on the planet. (The "genius" inventor of this only seemed to realise once it was ready for production)

Like The Edge of Destruction, this starts off with a suitably gripping "what the hell" moment as the TARDIS doors open before the ship has landed. What follows is a pacey murder mystery fused with elements of Gulliver's Travels and fears of a looming eco-disaster. 

Considering the non-existent budget, the production design is excellent, especially the models of the giant laboratory, the ant eggs, and the fly that attacks Barbara.

The reason for the shrinking of the TARDIS is explained away with some technobabble and is not really the focus of the plot. 

As Barbara becomes infected by the DN6 pesticide, the race is on to get her back to the safety of the TARDIS. The ending does feel rushed. Initially a four-part serial, the last two episodes were edited together into one. While this does bring the pace up, for one thing, it is never properly explained how Barbara gets better.

Interestingly, this is one of the only times that the main cast have no direct interaction with the supporting characters. 




Tuesday, 12 May 2020

Doctor Who #6: The Aztecs


The second surviving historical rather than sci-fi story has some excellent suspense, some terrible acting, and some interesting character development.

The TARDIS lands in 15th century Mexico and Barbara is instantly mistaken for the reincarnation of a high priest. Along with Ian, Susan, and The Doctor she quickly sees two sides of Aztec culture: a thirst for knowledge and thirst for blood, in the form of human sacrifice. Barbara wants to put a stop to the latter, but the Doctor has other ideas.

At its worst The Aztecs is like a pantomime, with obviously painted on cardboard sets, badly choreographed fight scenes and a "he's behind you" villain in the gurning High Priest of Sacrifice, Tlotoxl (familiar face character actor John Ringham).

The drama itself is well constructed though. The "why don't they just take off" problem is solved by trapping the TARDIS in a tomb, and out of reach. And both Ian and Barbara have close calls with death. Susan seems to disappear for a couple of episodes. As with William Hartnell in the Keys of Marinus, she took a two-week holiday so was written out of the script.

Most interesting is the continuing development of the character of the Doctor. After his rather passive start to the series, letting Ian take charge, he is now much more proactive. He reprimands both Ian and Barbara against interfering in history when they both want to turn the Aztecs away from bloodshed. He also ends up in a cheeky flirtation with and accidental engagement to a woman, Cameca. It pays off, as Cameca comes through with some vital knowledge at a key time.



Tuesday, 28 April 2020

Doctor Who #5 The Keys of Marinus



The fourth story, Marco Polo, is missing in its entirety so it is straight onto the fifth. Writer Terry Nation makes a return after his triumph with the Daleks. It is a disjointed but enjoyable affair, even if the patchwork nature of the story is both a blessing and a curse.

The TARDIS arrive on a small island on the planet Marinus. The Doctor, his granddaughter Susan, and her former teachers Ian and Barbara meet Arbitan. He is the keeper of the Conscience of Marinus, a computer designed to keep law and order across the entire planet. It is under attack by humanoid beings called the Voord, who want to control the conscience. As a security device, the Conscience requires five keys. By blocking their access to the TARDIS, Arbitan forces the Doctor and his friends to go and look for them.

The first episode sets up an intriguing mystery. Creepy beings in diving suits and spiked helmets prowl around, while the cast disappear one by one. It feels like an Agatha Christie story.

After a quick bit of exposition, the story is up and away. A quest is set up, giving us one key per episode. The question of "why don't you just leave?" is also settled by having an invisible force field thrown around the TARDIS.

There is a mix of the established story format (they are separated from the TARDIS) with a new one (different worlds in each episode). This gives us a new world to explore each time, which means that while there is always something fresh, there is no chance to explore or develop the worlds or characters we meet. Which is a shame, as there are some interesting ideas here. I liked the decadent, Roman style planet. This is a place where life is devoted to leisure and people can have anything they want. Barbara can see that there is something sinister going on under the surface. There is a creepy atmosphere to that episode, with POV camera shots, and brains with eye stalks in a jar giving it the feel of a horror film. 

Later episodes are not as successful. One that sees everybody trapped in a mountainous region of the planet has a bewildering array of characters jammed into twenty minutes. The Doctor disappears for two of these episodes without a decent on-screen explanation. Off screen, there was no great drama, William Hartnell took a fortnight's holiday.

We also see them land in the middle of a classic locked room mystery. This turns into a courtroom drama, with Ian accused of murder.

The character development is a mixed bag, highlighting the problem that having too many companions poses to the story format. The Doctor continues to be more assertive despite being absent for two thirds of the story. Ian is still an unlikely but willing action man. Barbara also takes a more proactive role. This leaves poor Susan who just seems to scream and scream again. I am starting to understand Carole Anne Ford's frustrations with the role.



Monday, 21 July 2014

A Hard Day's Night (1964)

A Hard Day’s Night is a film that rewrote the rules for how cinema and popular music work together and 50 years on the energy, wit and sheer joy of the film are undiminished. However, the template that it set was one that few if any have worked to the same level since, including the director and stars.  

The loose plot simply follows a fictional day in the life of The Beatles (John, Paul, George and Ringo all play fictional versions of themselves), as they travel by train to London to perform on a TV show. Along the way they are mobbed by fans, arrested by the police, separated, reunited and introduced to Paul’s mysterious, trouble causing, grandfather (played by Wilfrid Brambell of Steptoe fame) 

Alun Owen was brought in to put the script together, as the Beatles were fans of his Liverpool based play No Trams to Lime Street, and, having grown up in the area, he had an ear for Scouse dialect and dialogue. While never meant to be anything other than two-dimensional comic characters, the four Beatles that he creates each have distinctive personalities, while also having a definite group identity. It's almost a shame to think that much of this wonderful wordplay would have been lost on the films initial Beatlemania audience, who would have been too busy screaming the house down. 

Director Richard Lester was born in the USA but moved to London in the 1950s, working on commercials and TV shows, before making the 11-minute short The Running Jumping Standing Still film with Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan. The film became a firm favourite of the Beatles and led to Lester getting the job directing A Hard Day’s Night, and it is easy to see its influence on the innovative montage sequences of this film, with the sped up footage and radical idea of cutting the film to the rhythms of the music. A less obvious influence is the French New Wave, which can be seen with the handheld camera shots and use of real locations and people, as well as a casual disregard for rules and the "proper" way of making a film. 

The final element that makes this film so good is The Beatles themselves. They are not trained actors, and some lines fall flat, but generally they give a very good account of themselves. It does not surprise me that musicians can sometimes make a go of acting, as they are still used to performing, and in some respects, playing a role on stage. Plus, there is their wonderful music, with no hint of psychedelia or the complex studio experiments that would follow later in their career, just breathless exuberant 2 minute pop classics. 

A Hard Day's Night is one link in a fairly long cultural chain, one which spans a generation and an ocean. Lester clearly likes the energy of American silent trailblazers like Buster Keaton, and surreal invention of the Marx Brothers, the latter being a big influence on The Goon Show, two members of which (Milligan and Sellers) Lester worked with on The Running Jumping Standing Still film. The Goon Show had a fanatical fan in the shape of one John Lennon, and he would talk enthusiastically of the influence it had on both his work and his outlook on life. And, let’s not forget that the Goons also influenced Monty Python, whose Life of Brian was rescued at the last minute with a large cheque from George Harrison. 

Few groups or directors have managed to recreate the magic or energy of A Hard Day's Night, including Lester and the Beatles themselves. The following year they would team up again to make Help, but the end product feels lethargic and sloppy, straining too hard for laughs, with a general feeling of nobody caring as much this time around.