Doctor Who Retro Review: Serial 036—The Faceless Ones
By T. Scott Edwards
My biggest difficulty in this mammoth task–that of re-watching, and
then blogging, each and every Doctor Who serial
in order, including the missing serials–is not that which I had expected. It is
not one of recon-fatigue, but a simple lack of time. Of course, I have a real
job, in the real world. This real job, teaching English and Drama in a Private
School, is a time-consuming one, using up almost every waking moment of my
time. As such, during term-time, I lose evenings, weekends and even some of my
holiday time to lesson planning, rehearsals, marking and choreography. As such,
come term-time, the entire project has to come to a screeching halt. The
problem with this, though, is that my notes for the latest blog–Patrick
Troughton's The Faceless Ones, for
those keeping count–were written at the end of the October half term, but never
made it onto the computer. As such, page after page of blurred notes with
bullet-point, throw-away phrases mean almost nothing to me. Still, this entry
will try to make sense of that nonsense. Wish me luck.
The principle issue that most fans have
with this serial is simply that it is not completely available in visual form;
the entire thing exists in an audio format, but with only two existing episodes–indeed,
the two least interesting episodes, judging by what we know from the
soundtracks–it is difficult to judge how successful it is. Likewise, in a
series of short and snappy serials like The
Underwater Menace and The Macra
Terror, it seems a little sluggish at times. Running at 6 episodes,
compared with the majority of the season running at 4, it seems like there is
almost not enough storyline to fill the time. Of course, we know that this is
an issue of necessity; The Underwater
Menace went notoriously over-budget, and so The Faceless Ones, which is surprisingly restrained by early Doctor Who standards, makes full use instead
of the opportunity to use location filming, and so we end up with lots of
running around on tarmac and inside the main terminal buildings. Costumes are
naturalistic, due to the time setting, which means that few costumes and props
need creating for this serial, minimising the cost here. But despite the slower
pace, this isn't a bad serial at all. Indeed, it's an interesting premise
handled admirably.
Episode 1 opens with the stunning and
iconic scene with yon "flying beastie!" looming up over our intrepid
travellers, as Hines' Jamie McCrimmon, out of his own time, is faced by the
magic of the aircraft. The use of genuine footage, as opposed to stock footage,
is wonderful, although the cross editing does leave a little to be desired–there
is evidently no threat to the TARDIS, and whilst Jamie's terror is
understandable, the fear in the rest of the crew is less clear. The excellence
of Jamie's character, though, lies in these little moments which refer back to
his history. The Doctor has never had a companion from Earth's history before,
with the exception of Katarina, who joined the crew in the last five minutes of
The Myth Makers and proceeded to
wander around aimlessly as though she were tripping on acid, before dying
during the very next serial. As such, what Jamie allows is for the audience to
understand the events through the eyes of the companion. Unlike with
contemporary companions, for whom the audience previously was able to see the
events and understand them, Jamie allows the show to return somewhat to its
educational remit; his lack of understanding of even the most basic things
allows us to appreciate the wonder behind them.
Within moments, however, not only have
the crew scattered away from the airplane looming over them, they come
face-to-face with some of London's finest, and upon the orders of the Doctor,
they swiftly "scatter!" Ben, for some unknown reason, runs directly at the police officer, whilst the other
three run in approximately the same direction away from him. Cutting away to the Commandant, we are given the
chance to fully appreciate the superb scale allowed by filming at Gatwick
airport; everything seems so vast, and cutting between our heroes and their
pursuers, to these enormous offices and overbearing hangars creates a grand
scale rarely seen before in the show. Colin Gordon is wonderful as the
Commandant, and from the very first appearance we can see the potential allowed
by such a part–a fastidious and slightly doddery official, the type of
character Troughton's Doctor has been intentionally mocking since his first
serial as the Second Doctor. Whilst Hartnell's Doctor was stubborn and had a
tendency to mock official people, Troughton is intentionally antiestablishment,
and as such a run-in is inevitable.
Before that, though, we follow the fates
of the disparate group of time travellers. With Ben hiding out in a hangar and
Troughton and Jamie hiding behind two massive plane wheels, we cut to Polly,
who instigates the entire story by hiding in Chameleon Tours' hangar,
witnessing the execution of a man. When she returns to the Doctor, finding him
and Jamie still beneath the wheels, it is a strong moment of foreshadowing when
she questions "But where's... what about Ben...?" And this brings me
to my biggest issue with The Faceless
Ones.
Ultimately, The Faceless Ones is a companion-led story. Rather than leading the
story, though, it is a functional story for us to bid farewell to Polly and
Ben. Whilst they have not been around too long, they are memorable as
companions for the simple fact that they
were there during the first ever regeneration. This momentous occasion was
witnessed by these two hip and cool kids from London in the swinging sixties. As
such, they helped the audience to bridge the gap between Hartnell and
Troughton, facilitating the change and allowing us to better understand what
happened. With the arrival of Jamie in The
Highlanders, though, these two lost all purpose. They are no longer our
eyes and ears. Instead, they are simply cluttering up the TARDIS. When they
arrived, they were evidently realised as replacements for Ian and Barbara–like
anyone could replace Ian and Barbara!–and so were written as accidental
travellers, desperate to get home. Here, then, they get to return home, and
whilst their farewell story is nowhere near as ignominious as Dodo's, which
also served as Ben and Polly's introduction, let's not forget, it still does
not do credit to these faithful wanderers through time and space. In fact, it
is even more telling of their unimportance as characters that they are even
returned to Earth on the very day that they left–as far as the world is
concerned, these two have never been anywhere or done anything of any
significance.
The villains of the piece, the Faceless Ones of the title, are not seen
until the cliffhanger of this first part. Instead, we are treated to the
crisply-spoken menace of Blade and Spencer, played with smashing menace by
Donald Pickering and Victor Winding. After executing the Detective Inspector,
Winding's Spencer calls up Pickering's Captain Blade to report the situation,
telling him that the man discovered "the postcards", which, at this
stage in the serial, seems like the most incongruous and ridiculous sentence
imaginable. Of course, via their superb CCTV system, the pair then witness the
Doctor, Jamie and Polly searching the body, where we are informed that the
weapon used to kill him was a ray gun capable of electrocuting, rather than a
standard gun. The fact that Troughton refers to the singed clothing hints at
something horrific which we don't get to see–and also foreshadows the
appearance of the eponymous Faceless Ones,
as we can imagine the singed flesh of DI Gascoigne.
After this comes one of the most telling
scenes in the entire serial, and one which reinforces my point about the unfair
treatment of Polly and Ben–Ben has not been seen since the beginning of the
story, and here we have the Doctor and Jamie, walking side-by-side, chattering
away like best of friends while Polly is picked off from the back of the group,
without the other two even noticing. After three serials in which Jamie has
done nothing but protect Polly, it is
almost as though Hines has realised that without them gone he gets given far
more to do, and so turns a blind eye as Spencer picks her up and takes her away.
When they discuss Polly's fate, however, an interesting line comes–"We'll
gain nothing by questioning her". It is as though the cast and crew
themselves realise that she is now an irrelevance, and whilst the Doctor and
Jamie do return to search for her, they very promptly give up and leave to
speak to the authorities, without so much as opening a packing crate or looking
behind some boxes.
The scenes in the airport proper are
magnificent, as the Doctor and Jamie wander the corridors of the arrivals lounge.
Hines' open-mouthed wonder is perfectly delivered as he paces back and forth,
agog. To see the Doctor–Troughton's Doctor, no less–being wrapped up the
mundane nonsense of bureaucracy is fantastic, as is Jamie's failure to
understand the social norms of the time. Similarly, during the report to the
Commandant, Jamie spills the truth–"he was electrocuted. With a ray gun!"–in
such a smug and self-assured way that we cannot help but admire his enthusiasm.
Of course, he is undermining the realism of the story; in a show like Doctor Who, we can take the story with a
pinch of salt, as we have followed the adventurers through time and space–a
well-spoken man with a ray gun is nothing to us. For the Commandant, though, it
is all too preposterous, and yet Jamie, who takes all of this in his stride,
doesn't seem to get that; he has seen flying metal birds with people in them
today, so that's nothing. Here, Hulke and Ellis, the writers, achieve a
wonderful balance, between what we take for granted, the modern miracles, and
those fantastic elements of futurism.
The first appearance of the arm of one
of the Faceless Ones shows some magnificent makeup, which is exceptionally
effective, and the interruption from the Doctor, Jamie and the Commandant again
allows some levity–seeing Troughton crawling about on hands and knees with a
magnifying glass under the feet of the officials is fantastic. Seeing Blade and
Spencer escorting one of the Chameleons up an escalator is again horrific, as
we have the juxtaposition of the normal and the monstrous, and those final
moments consolidate that fear–the crispy, featureless face, bobbing frantically
on slumped shoulders as though struggling to breathe, is one of the most
horrific images in the series up to this point.
The brief moment in episode 1 where the
Doctor and Jamie meet Polly again brings me to my second issue with this
serial, and this one is harder to ignore. The entire premise of the Chameleons'
scheme is utterly ridiculous, for two reasons. Likewise, Blade and Spencer,
whilst they are chilling and dastardly, are two of the most incompetent bad
guys ever. The postcard scam makes no sense. The idea that they are kidnapping
entire air-craft filled with passengers makes no sense. And the stupidest thing
of all is that not only do they not kill the Doctor when they have the chance,
they instead kidnap one of his companions, seemingly brainwash her (poor Polly,
second serial in a row!) and then return her to the airport, in her original
clothes, to work on the front desk of Chameleon Tours, no less, with a foreign
name. So when the Doctor and Jamie inevitably turn up–they are investigating
the company, lest we forget–they are confronted by someone who not only looks
exactly like Polly, is dressed exactly like Polly was before she disappeared
and, to make matters worse, sounds exactly like Polly despite allegedly being
Swiss and called Michelle!
Of course, it isn't really her. Instead,
it's a Chameleon who has assimilated her appearance, and the scene later in
episode 2 where Ben finds her lying, motionless, in a box, is fairly horrible. But
the trouble is that we have another episode in the airport, of the group
running around, with not much happening in the meantime. Episode two is almost
entirely filler–we see Meadows' transference and the Chameleon replacement
going out to work in his stead–and a rather enjoyable moment where his vocal
chords are fine-tuned. There's the fantastic moment where Ben, Jamie and the
Doctor are reunited in a photo booth and they have to fake a cheesy smile. But
the escape from the police and security group at the airport is all a little
camp and silly for me–Hines' narration on the audio reports that, at one point,
they are hiding behind newspapers which are not only "foreign–it is also
upside down". This may have been a great visual gag. Sadly, with only the
soundtrack to base it upon, the action falls a little flat.
What the soundtrack does allow, however,
is for the incidental music to come to the fore, and the stock music used here
is superb, really setting the mood. From what we can see, in episodes 1 and 3, the direction is clever and
fast-paced, with Gerry Mill electing to use varied angles and a touch of
deep-focus photography to make the story move along at an interesting, if
slightly slow, pace. And the performances are consistently good, with one
possible exception–Pauline Collins, whose appearance as Samantha Briggs
allegedly led to the production team offering her a role as a companion full-time.
Her accent alone would make this unthinkable–let us not forget poor Dodo
Chaplet, who lost her accent within moments of being in the TARDIS–but more on
her as we look at episode 3.
Once the Doctor and Jamie are caught
again, though, we have the frankly disturbing moment where the Doctor pretends
that a rubber ball in his pocket is a bomb. Now, this speaks volumes of the
world in which we live nowadays that no one–literally no one–can make this type
of joke. People are arrested for even the slightest suggestion of such an
action. In the meantime, this is the last we see of Ben and Polly–although they
have a scene in episode 6 wherein they wave farewell to the Doctor and Jamie
which was pre-recorded. This then is their final day working for Doctor Who. What makes this all the more
tragic though is that it is actually a very strong episode for Michael Craze. He
looks like he's about to save the day, stumbling upon the plot accidentally as
he hides within the Chameleon Tours hangar–they really should lock that door,
shouldn't they?!–and returns later, discovering Polly asleep in a crate. Sadly,
though, he is instantly shot with a stun gun, and the same fate awaits him; he
is written out with not a bang, but a whimper.
Oh, and episode 2 features the new theme
tune...! So... yeah...
Episode 3 moves–yay!–so we at least have
the benefit of judging this one based on action, rather than simply by
telesnaps and audio tracks. The episode opens where the last left, with Troughton
becoming overcome by fumes after getting trapped within the hangar, but his
escape is rather ingenious, feigning unconsciousness before turning the ray gun
on his attacker. The scene in which Spenser is staring, vacantly, into the
camera before regaining his senses is wonderfully chilling.
These scenes are intercut with Crossland–played
with wonderful 'boys' own' charm by Bernard Kay–dealing with Jamie and
Samantha. Pauline Collins' character is something of an oddity though–she is
evidently designed by the writers to be a replacement companion, and her banter
with Jamie is excellent, as she coaxes him into keeping her company on her
separate investigation. Her investigative skills are the way in which the group
manages to unravel the secret of the postcard scam, and her shrugging away of
Jamie's arm when he attempts to console her shows a depth to her which many
female characters in Doctor Who are
usually lacking.
What The
Faceless Ones does marvellously is cement the plot devices which become
synonymous with Pertwee's era of Doctor
Who. Whilst Hulke will later write for the show alone–and his serials also
feature themes which this puts out the groundwork for, which we'll discuss
nearer the end of this blog–here he introduces the Doctor fighting endless
pen-pushing and bureaucracy. Even when the Commandant finally accepts certain
truths within the Doctor's story, he still pushes the subject of the Doctor's
immigrant status and lack of passport.
As Blade, Donald Pickering's delivery is
smashing, and the crisp and calm delivery of two of his best lines come in this
episode; "You Earthmen are more use to us alive" and then my personal
favourite, in response to Crossland's mention of the long arm of the law–"I
don't think it will reach where you're going"–are cracking. There is a
disturbing undertone to this serial, and one which has rarely been exploited by
the show in all of its time; the concept of CCTV is one which provides a
chilling criticism of modern society in general, and here in episode 3 it is
particularly pertinent. In episode 2, we watched Troughton watching Ben on CCTV
as he was attacked, and the Doctor couldn't help.
Here, though, we watch Spenser as he
watches the Doctor collapse in the hangar. There is a bizarre sense of
impotence and voyeurism throughout, as we watch people watching others. The
panning camera through the cabin of the aircraft is handled wonderfully by
Gerry Mill, although it is ridiculous, of course. Who exactly is manipulating
the camera in the cabin, particularly as it is a diegetic image within the plot
framework as we watch Crossland watching the footage.
Episode 4 is once again missing and we
are back to audio files and telesnaps. This is something of a shame,
particularly in the case of the cliffhanger here, which frankly sounds
incredible, as the ship suddenly converts itself into a space rocket before
bursting upwards into outer space. What we cannot see, and therefore are left
to wonder at, is the balking stupidity of Spenser. After his ridiculous
comments about interviews and his inability to kill anyone in the last few
weeks, here Hulke and Ellis take it up a notch by having him commit a James
Bond-esque murder, with a laser gun slowly moving towards him. And then he
doesn't even hang around to watch! It's ridiculous, and frustrating, but we can
only imagine how silly it looked. And they get saved by Samantha, too! Go,
girl! Of course, it's playing on the arch stereotype that all women are vain
and carry mirrors around, but even so, it saves their lives, deflecting the
laser beam away.
Very little else really happens in
episode 4–there's an action sequence involving an RAF fighter jet which sounds
exciting, but we can't see. There's Jamie kissing Samantha to distract her
while he steals her ticket. In fact, probably the highlight of this episode–besides
the plane turning into a rocket–is probably the fact that Jamie's courage knows
no bounds. He is even willing to go in one of the things which, three episodes
earlier, terrified him.
Everything finally seems to come to some
form of resolution in episode 5, though, and the plot begins to ratchet up to
speed. Via some fascinating exposition, we learn a great deal about the alien
invaders. Indeed, we learn that this slow invasion of theirs–which requires
50,000 bodies!–is the result of horrific mutilations and we end up feeling
sympathy for The Faceless Ones. Whilst
they may have murdered a few people, including DI Gascoigne, and kidnapped
thousands of others, including Brian Briggs, they are ultimately rather
pathetic and desperate. And this is the Hulke formula, one which he will
perfect whilst writing for Pertwee; as we see in his later serials Doctor Who and the Silurians, The Ambassadors
of Death and The Sea Devils, the
concept of misunderstood alien species needing human assistance is further developed.
Here, though, we can tell that Hulke is in the early stages of his career
writing for Doctor Who, though. Typically,
Hulke does long stories well–he co-wrote The
War Games!–and also does the slow-burn of stories effectively. Here,
though, it just seems a little ropier than in his later scripts, far less
honed. This is proto-Hulke, rather than Hulke at his finest, but he's still
using those ideals he would assimilate into his finest scripts.
Episode 5 also has the horrific image of
the drawers filled with dolls, each representing one of the missing people. As
the story continues at this increased pace, we discover the true reason for the
aliens' disfigured appearances, as well as the appearance of DI Crossland, in
fact the Director of the Chameleons. The scenes between the Doctor and Nurse
Pinto have been fantastic across the last two episodes, and now they have
managed to infiltrate the space station, pretending to be Chameleons. After
four episodes to-ing and fro-ing back and forth in Gatwick, it's nice that we're
finally treated to a change in scenery with the space station, which sounds
fantastic through the use of stock music, tinkling and twinkling away eerily as
the Doctor wanders the corridors.
One niggling thing which confuses me
somewhat about episode 5 is the way in which the replicas retain all their
memories, and yet lose their accent. Now, it is chilling, seeing Kay return to
his traditional received pronunciation. Even more unnerving is seeing Hines,
whose natural Scottish brogue we have become readily accustomed to over the
past few weeks, suddenly speaking in a Standard English accent. But it once again
undermines the entire plot; there's a lovely touch where the Chameleon
replacement knows more about the man's life than his record shows. Despite
this, they do not assimilate the accent of their victims, undermining any
potential infiltration of their real lives.
The cliffhanger at the end of episode 5
sounds utterly horrifying, particularly through the description of the oncoming
creatures as being in their "raw state" as they surround Nurse Pinto
and the Doctor. Episode 6, meanwhile, finally sees the story reach its
conclusion. With Crossland actually the Director of the Chameleons, and the
Doctor now trapped with them on the space station, there suddenly seems to be a
sense of urgency, one which has sadly been lacking in the last two episodes. As
the Doctor holds the threat of death over them–with the doubles discovered in
the back of cars, randomly dotted around, by every member of staff from the
airport–the Doctor is now able to endanger their lives, and so instead the
Chameleons step back and scuttle away, their tails between their legs. Of
course, the idea of debate, rather than all-out war, is very Malcolm Hulke. Indeed,
this is proto-Pertwee at its finest, with the Doctor desperate to embark upon
negotiations rather than actually harm anyone.
But that's the problem. It's not really
a pay-off like we'd expect; there is no big bang, no ethical dilemma forcing
the Doctor to choose. Instead, for one time only, we get negotiations... and
they stick to them. The Doctor and the humans and the aliens all make an
agreement, and stick to it. It all seems rather anticlimactic, somehow. We've
come to expect certain things of the show, but what is telling is that still,
even now, the show is forcing us to question where it is headed. Even now,
nearly at the end of the fourth season, we don't know exactly what is
happening, and where we are going. Troughton is still making his mark on the
show, shaking off the last vestiges of Hartnell's tenure.
Speaking of shaking off the last of
Hartnell's tenure, though, we come to the last ten minutes. And here we are
reunited with Ben and Polly, just in time for the end of the story. We leave
the Commandant and the real Crossland together to "tidy up", and the
Doctor and his companions return to the airport to collect the TARDIS before a
convoluted farewell is uttered to Ben and Polly, after a touching goodbye to
Samantha, the Companion who never was. As I said earlier, the scene is better
than we were given with Dodo, but even so it seems rushed and unfair given all
that these two have been through with the Doctor. The realisation of the date–"July
the 20th 1966, to be precise"–smacks of lazy writing, but what
is terrific is that this swiftly becomes the busiest day in Doctor Who history. Not only is July 20th
1966 the day when Britain is attacked by The
War Machines and The Faceless Ones,
but also the first stop in a new adventure with the Daleks.
And so, Ben leaves to become and
Admiral. Polly leaves to cook him dinner and have babies and other girly
things. And Jamie and the Doctor are off on a new adventure, off to find the
TARDIS, wherever it may be.
Scott Edwards is a teacher of English and Theatre Studies at Barnard Castle School in the North East of England, with a BAHons in English Literature and Film Studies. He is also a self-professed ‘ming-mong,' and in addition to timelordapprentice.blogspot.co.uk he also runs facebook.com/Classic.Doctor.Who. You can also follow him on Twitter: @TimelordTSE.
Labels: Doctor Who, Patrick Troughton, reviews, T. Scott Edwards
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