Holistic Review: Thoroughly entertaining from beginning to end, with the sixth Doctor at his most pleasant and Mel at her most capable.
After one boring installment and one downright painful one, finally the Trial kicks into high gear with Terror of the Vervoids, a projection of the Doctor's (potential?) future that turns out to be one of my top-favorite Doctor Who stories ever.
To start with, the plot is very appealing. It's not often that Doctor Who does murder mysteries, but when it tries, the results are usually very good. Here we have a specifically Agatha Christie setup of a group of strangers trapped on an isolated transport vessel along with a murderer (which worked well back in Robots of Death); amusingly, Lasky even reads Murder on the Orient Express (a rather 1950s-looking paperback version, interestingly) in the lounge.
I also like that Terror of the Vervoids isn't just a monster story, or even a murder-mystery. It's actually about something: in this case, the ethics of scientific experimentation, and the dangers of prioritizing results over human safety. Of course, this being a Pip-and-Jane story, we also get a variety of mini-lessons hearkening back to Doctor Who's original education remit: the life-cycle of plants, a hint at the properties of magnesium, and information about the breeding sciences.
And then we have the writers. Of the four Pip and Jane Baker stories, this one is definitely my favorite — I think their plot is excellent, their characters interesting and their dialogue entertaining. You'll see me lavishing a lot of praise on them throughout this review. Which of course brings me to an especially long edition of:
THE PIP 'N JANE DICTIONARY part 2
abort vt. To terminate before completion. abuse vt. To use wrongly or improperly; misuse. academic adj. Theoretical or speculative without a practical purpose or intention. accelerate vt. To cause to develop or progress more quickly. accord vt. To grant, especially as being due or appropriate. agronomy n. Application of the various soil and plant sciences to soil management and crop production; scientific agriculture. allocate vt. To set apart for a special purpose; designate. antediluvian adj. Extremely old and antiquated. antic n. A ludicrous or extravagant act or gesture; a caper. arbitrary adj. Determined by chance, whim, or impulse, and not by necessity, reason, or principle. assessment n. The act of determining the value, significance or extent of something; appraisal. astute adj. Having or showing shrewdness and discernment, especially with respect to one's own concerns. avarice n. Immoderate desire for wealth; cupidity. baffle vt. To frustrate or check (a person) as by confusing or perplexing; stymie. benign adj. Having little or no detrimental effect; harmless. blinker vt. To put blinders on. blunderbuss adj. Clumsy and stupid. bogus adj. Counterfeit or fake; not genuine. bromide n. A commonplace remark or notion; a platitude. brown study n. A state of deep thought (from brown, gloomy + study, mental state). buck up vt. To summon one's courage or spirits; hearten. candor n. Frankness or sincerity of expression; openness. caprice n. A sudden, unpredictable action, change, or series of actions or changes. cardinal adj. Of foremost importance; paramount. carte blanche n. Unrestricted power to act at one's own discretion; unconditional authority. catalyst n. One that precipitates a process or event, especially without being involved in or changed by the consequences. cavalier adj. Showing arrogant or offhand disregard; dismissive. charade n. A readily perceived pretense; a travesty. chicanery n. A trick; a subterfuge. chloroplast n. A chlorophyll-containing plastid found in algal and green plant cells. christen vt. To name and dedicate ceremonially. cogitate vi. To take careful thought or think carefully about; ponder. condone vt. To overlook, forgive, or disregard (an offense) without protest or censure. consignment n. Merchandise to be delivered for custody or sale. conversant adj. Familiar, as by study or experience. cower vi. To cringe in fear. culpability n. Deserving of blame or censure as being wrong, evil, improper, or injurious. cytogenetics n. The branch of biology that deals with heredity and the cellular components associated with heredity. derivative n. A compound produced or obtained from another substance by chemical reaction. detachment n. Indifference to or remoteness from the concerns of others; aloofness. devious adj. Not straightforward; shifty. distort vt. To give a false or misleading account of; misrepresent. dormant adj. In a condition of biological rest or inactivity characterized by cessation of growth or development and the suspension of many metabolic processes. erratic adj. Deviating from the customary course in conduct or opinion; eccentric. fabrication n. Something concocted in order to deceive. flotsam n. Floating refuse or debris. flout vt. To show contempt for; scorn. folly n. A lack of good sense, understanding, or foresight. forfeit adj. Surrendered or subject to surrender as punishment for a crime, an offense, an error, or a breach of contract. fraud n. A piece of trickery; a trick. frivolous adj. Inappropriately silly. futile adj. Having no useful result. genocide n. The systematic and planned extermination of an entire national, racial, political, or ethnic group. grasp vt. To take hold of intellectually; comprehend. grim adj. Ghastly; sinister; dismal; gloomy. horticultural adj. Pertaining to the science or art of cultivating fruits, vegetables, flowers, or ornamental plants. impertinent adj. Exceeding the limits of propriety or good manners; improperly forward or bold. indebted adj. Morally, socially, or legally obligated to another; beholden. indulgence n. Liberal or lenient treatment; tolerance. ingenious adj. Having or arising from an inventive or cunning mind; clever. Judas goat n. a goat trained to lead other goats to a slaughterhouse. limber up vi. To make oneself capable of moving, bending, or contorting easily. lofty adj. Arrogant; haughty. lucid adj. Easily understood; intelligible. ludicrous adj. Laughable or hilarious because of obvious absurdity or incongruity. manipulate vt. To influence or manage shrewdly or deviously. maul vt. To handle roughly. maverick n. One that refuses to abide by the dictates of or resists adherence to a group; a dissenter. mayhem n. A state of violent disorder or riotous confusion; havoc. methane n. An odorless, colorless, flammable gas, CH4, the major constituent of natural gas, that is used as a fuel. militate vi. To have force or influence; bring about an effect or a change. nub n. The essence; the core. obligatory adj. Compulsory. obscure vt. To conceal in obscurity; hide. overt adj. Open and observable; not hidden, concealed, or secret. peregrination n. A journey or trip from place to place, especially on foot. phantasmagoria n. A fantastic sequence of haphazardly associative imagery, as seen in dreams or fever. phenomenon n. An occurrence, circumstance, or fact that is perceptible by the senses. plethora n. A superabundance; an excess. plunder vi. To take booty; rob. preposterous adj. Contrary to nature, reason, or common sense; absurd. pretense n. A false or studied show; an affectation. pretentious adj. Making or marked by an extravagant outward show; ostentatious. prevail vi. To be greater in strength or influence; triumph. prevaricate vi. To stray from or evade the truth; equivocate. provocative adj. Tending to incite to anger or resentment. psychopath n. A person with an antisocial personality disorder, manifested in aggressive, perverted, criminal, or amoral behavior without empathy or remorse. pulverize vt. To pound, crush, or grind to a powder or dust. quaint adj. Charmingly odd, especially in an old-fashioned way. qualm n. An uneasy feeling about the propriety or rightness of a course of action. quirky adj. Unpredictable or unaccountable. radical adj. Departing markedly from the usual or customary; extreme. rendering n. A depiction or interpretation, as in painting or music. repugnant adj. Arousing disgust or aversion; offensive or repulsive. rogue adj. Operating outside normal or desirable controls. sagacity n. The quality of being discerning, sound in judgment, and farsighted; wisdom. sheer adj. Completely such, without qualification or exception. sophistry n. Plausible but fallacious argumentation. squalid adj. Morally repulsive; sordid. static adj. Having no motion; being at rest; quiescent; fixed; stationary. subject vt. To expose to something; to cause to experience. subterfuge n. A deceptive stratagem or device. syllogism n. A form of deductive reasoning consisting of a major premise, a minor premise, and a conclusion. thremmatology n. The scientific breeding of domestic plants and animals. travesty n. A debased or grotesque likeness. unmitigated adj. Without qualification or exception; absolute. unorthodox adj. Breaking with convention or tradition; not orthodox. vested adj. Settled, fixed, or absolute; being without contingency. whim n. A sudden or capricious idea; a fancy. |
I've decided that what people are picking up on with Pip and Jane's scripts isn't so much their vocabulary — after all, out of the list above, there are only maybe 9 that are really unusual, and a couple of those are specialized scientific terms. The rest are probably words you'd hear in other Doctor Who stories without batting an eyelid. (It is amusing, though, that they have Travers admonishing Rudge with "Why can't you use plain language, mister?") No, what I think really makes Pip and Jane's dialogue unique is their use of syntax. Even I can't deny that sometimes their characters say things in the most roundabout (albeit eloquent) way possible. For example, Mel's line "The word should be criminal!", or Bruchner's line "You long ago lost sight of the difference between right and wrong!" But, in their defense again, even on this viewing, I learned a few new words — I'd never heard brown study or militate before, and I'd never really bothered to look up the definitions for bromide, sophistry and syllogism before. And then of course there's thremmatology. They're still teaching me new words after 20 years, and that has got to count for something!
It must also be said that because of both the sixth Doctor's love of language, and especially Colin Baker's, he seems to positively relish these lines, and sounds totally natural delivering them. The sixth Doctor seems very jovial and lighthearted in this story, more agreeable and less abrasive. In past stories, it's often been Peri who dithered over someone's well-being, while the Doctor strode off without a second thought; here, we've got a great moment in which the Doctor examines the guard that Bruchner attacked, but can't stop to help because Lasky's dragging him away, and he splutters for a minute before declaring "He'll live." and reluctantly hurrying off. I think it humanizes him a bit more, and makes him more relatable.
The clash between the Doctor's love of food and Mel's determination to get him on an exercise regimen provides several funny moments, as does his insistence on making bad puns (like "Wish I could get rid of my waist as easily, eh? Heh heh.") — I love the way that Mel looks alternately bewildered and then eye-rolling at his "throw in the towel" pun. These kinds of self-deprecating moments are a nice way to poke gentle fun at his character, without him and Peri insulting one another all over the place. The big difference here, and what I think makes the sixth Doctor so approachable in this story, is that he isn't quite as prone to fly off the handle here. He's actually sweet and caring with Mel; I really like the moment when he affectionately prods her chin and tells her to be careful, and when she escapes the Vervoids at the end, he clutches her comfortingly to his chest. If he'd acted that way around Peri more often, they surely would have gotten along better! Instead of teasing each other with the intention to wound, the sixth Doctor and Mel have a much cuter and more playful teasing relationship.
But he still gets some great temperamental moments, like his outrage at the "statistical possibility" that caused Ruth to transform into a Vervoid, and his disbelieving "You're talking about slave labor!" He's friendly but firm with the Commodore and anyone else who needs a good talking-to, and he only loses his temper around people who really deserve it. So, instead of seeing him vent his anger at poor Peri, here we get to see the villains quail when he turns the full force of his fury on them. In the Trial segments, we also get to see his sarcastic and subversive side; I love him rolling his eyes at the Valeyard when the prosecutor tries to imply that the Doctor has just implicated himself as the murderer (and he gets a great rejoinder: "The prosecutor delights in scoring cheap victories, my lady.") Amusingly, he actually seems a bit unsure how to approach people like Lasky, or ask a favor from Janet or the Commodore, where before he probably would have just charged in without bothering what people thought of him. That meekness is almost a new side to this Doctor that we haven't really seen before. Unquestionably, Pip and Jane Baker know how to write for the sixth Doctor, instinctively and better than anyone else. They'd already demonstrated this ability in The Mark of the Rani, but here they really outdo themselves. Colin Baker gives a great delivery on "Sorry. They refused." and "It may not be your intention, but you are in danger of joining an extensive roll of dishonor", and I love his comic "I didn't even hear the dinner gong" as Bruchner races past him out of the hydroponics centre. And he even gets to sing! (Quite well, too, despite what Mel implies!) I also love his sleight-of-hand with the flowers.
This will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me, but — unlike apparently 90% of fandom (or, at least, 90% of fandom before Millennial Rites and 70% of fandom before The Fires of Vulcan) — I find Mel to be totally adorable. People most often accuse her of being (a) a cardboard cipher character, (b) impossibly and annoyingly perky and cheerful, (c) a terrible and overly-frequent screamer, and (d) overacted. Personally, I don't understand a single one of these complaints. The Television Companion quotes my dear Lance Parkin, writer of several fantastic Who novels, as having said "Bonnie Langford is terrible ... Can anyone find ... a scene or a single line in which she is anything other than awful?" My answer is "duh!" and also "Are we watching the same program?" More on this below.
As far as Mel stories go, this one by far gives her the best material. Pip and Jane clearly wrote Terror of the Vervoids with Mel firmly in mind. Gone are the days of Peri hanging around in the background for the entire story (although I would point out that Pip and Jane never had her doing that either). Mel is a much more take-charge individual, and actually — in keeping with her fitness fanaticism — she seems loathe to just sit or stand around doing nothing, preferring instead to drive the plot along. She's the first one out of the TARDIS at the beginning, actually urging the Doctor to hurry out; she tries to wheedle the Doctor into solving the mystery by asking for a passenger list; she races through the ship to rescue Doland and Janet from Rudge's hijacking; and she takes the initiative to transmit a distress call (or would have, if the equipment hadn't been destroyed).
Her intelligence and quick thinking are shown throughout the story. Mel instantly figures out which button the Doctor wants her to press on the TARDIS console; you can practically see the wheels spinning in her mind as she ponders who might have sent them the mayday; she prevaricates when Rudge finds her hovering around the isolation room, and claims on the spot to be heading for the gymnasium she saw on the ship's map; she thinks to ask Lasky about the Demeter seeds; she clearly doesn't fall for Doland's "giant fruit" explanation; when she hears the Vervoids whispering in the air duct, she immediately thinks to use the aerobics headsets to record their conversation (and figures out how to operate the controls); she points out that a woman could have lifted her weight just as easily as a man; and she comes up with the plan to warn the hostages of their plan to attack the lounge. However, for all the IQ points Mel is allowed to have in this story, she doesn't know what thremmatology is, which is actually a rather nice touch. When companions are shown to be intellectually competent, it's kind of cool to see them have to ask the Doctor about the definition of a term, because of course Mel doesn't know everything, and she's willing (even eager) to ask when she doesn't know something. It only becomes a problem when that's all a companion does.
Appropriately for a computer programmer, Mel is logical and pragmatic, and she claims not to have an overactive imagination. Pleasingly, the Bakers also gave Mel the ability to have almost total recall of information (and why they, unlike all subsequent authors, didn't use the phrase "eidetic memory", I'll never know), which is a cool and unusual character trait (aside from Zoe) that could have come in very useful in future stories, if only a single other writer had remembered to take advantage of it. (although I must say that remembering the phrasing of the mayday message is really no big whoop.)
She's keenly inquisitive and naturally a bit nosy, wanting to poke around the passenger quarters. When Kimber is killed, Mel goes straight to the crime scene, sneaks inside and finds a bit of evidence, and later goes to search Janet's cabin as well. She later corners Doland and sweet-talks him (...or maybe "bullies him" would be more accurate) into telling her about their experiments. She's very observant, noticing that the Doctor took some Demeter seeds from Hallett's room.
She can also be impressively fearless, such as when she immediately grabs... well, a shoe, to defend herself with, when the door to Hallett's cabin opens. (As she later claims, "I'm quite capable of defending myself!") She's determined to face her fears and enter the hydroponics centre, without being as aggressive about it as Ace would later be. She ventures into the air ducts loaded with Vervoids (or, as far as Mel knew, some vague animalkind-hating threat) on her own to warn the hostages. She's no shrinking violet under ordinary conditions, either; she doesn't just hang back in the Doctor's shadow, she speaks up for herself. For example, Mel defends herself against Travers, pointing out that she hasn't tried to deny her involvement with Edwardes' death, and later stands up to him and practically demands the vionesium. Mel also shows a strong sense of focus and a desire to cut to the heart of the matter without getting sidetracked, as in her first conversation with Travers ("Whatever happened in the past doesn't alter the fact that a mayday call was sent.").
We also get a good sense of Mel's moral character. She's adamant that the Doctor needs to answer the mayday call, she refuses to let him give up when she thinks that a stone has been left unturned, and she's horrified to the point of tears when she discovers the Vervoids' human compost heap. She seems to be completely guileless, an impression reinforced by the fact that Lasky says "Don't bother to lie, you're not very good at it."
Above all, Mel is a warm and caring person, who's good with people and a natural peacemaker. Witness the way she manages to defuse the Doctor/Lasky spat in the lounge, and the worry in her voice when she asks of Ruth, "What happened? How did she get in that state?"
So what's all this about Mel being a cardboard cipher with no personality? Her personality is actually very well-defined in this story, and although we don't get to see the circumstances in which Mel decides to travel with the Doctor, I think we can make an educated guess at her motivations — she's clearly thrilled by the idea of space-time travel, bursting with energy to explore the universe, and full of a moral sense of right and wrong that rivals the Doctor's. She's a natural-born crusader and she seems to thrive on exciting new experiences, so why wouldn't a person like that jump at the chance to travel in the TARDIS? Any of us would, and Mel's the first "average" companion since Tegan, or — if you want a comparison to a character who actually wanted to travel with the Doctor (most of the time) — since Sarah Jane Smith. (Maybe that's unfair to post-Arc Tegan, but you get my drift.) We also get some information about her background: she's from Pease Pottage (rural-ish upbringing, but not far from big city life), and her family had a big garden (which she clearly helped tend). And we know a bit about her hobbies: she likes to eat healthy food and exercise. The only thing that doesn't get brought up is her background in computers.
As far as that annoyingly-perky thing goes, give me a break. I think there are just a lot of people in this world who are miserable and like other people to be miserable too, and when they meet someone who's generally happy all the time, it makes them angry. Generally, I relate to Mel; I like to think that I'm a pretty optimistic and sunny person, and it takes a lot to get me down. And I've met people who just don't deal well with that kind of personality. They want to bring you down, and they think you can't possibly be real because nobody is happy all the time. Why is it a bad thing to be a happy person? Well, let me tell you, people like Mel certainly do exist, and I admire them. Mel's the sort of person that I would very much like to be friends with, because she keeps a smile on her face and maintains a positive attitude (until she's confronted with huge poisonous plant-monsters, of course). I mean, really, given the chance to go for a coffee — or, perhaps, a decaffeinated herbal tea — with Mel (who would smile and ask about your day and say "oh, how lovely!") or Tegan (who would grumble and moan about the latest in a long line of unfair circumstances), who would you pick?
And let's look at that screaming thing. In this story, Mel screams six times. Six! That's way less than, say, Sarah in Genesis of the Daleks (16 screams) or Martha in Gridlock (17 screams). If it weren't for Time and the Rani, Mel's actual scream count wouldn't be any more remarkable than any other companion. And people try to claim that she's a bad screamer? What, just because she has a misplaced reputation for doing it a lot? Puh-leeze... how many characters do you know who can pitch their screams so that they blend with the closing credits? I'd say Mel's one of the best screamers of the lot, right up there with Victoria.
And then we have that overacting thing. I get that Bonnie's coming from musical theatre, so people think she's trying to project to the back of the audience, and maybe there are a couple of lines where she does. But Bonnie gives a great subtle performance. I love her musical little hum as Mel clinks glasses of carrot juice with the Doctor, the rueful expression on her face as Mel indicates the gun being held on her, her startled reaction when the aerobics music blares out of her headphones, the little grin she gives the Doctor when Lasky calls him a fool (but not a criminal), her disbelieving scoff when Doland tries to pass off the Vervoid pods as husks for giant fruit, and her delivery of — among many other lines — "Um... wait a second... 'animalkind'.". Instead of sitting back and dismissing her as a pantomime actor, try watching for all the moments where she delivers her lines softly, or with an interesting nuance. I promise you, there's no shortage of them. I mean, we've had bad actors in Doctor Who. I'm not naming names, but I did in all my other reviews, so go take a look at those performances and then compare them to Bonnie. She's great, absolutely natural, and thoroughly likeable in the part.
Bonnie and Colin overall have a wonderful rapport; the sixth Doctor seems much more relaxed and much less argumentative with Mel than he did with Peri, and the two of them obviously care a lot for one another. I would hazard a guess that Mel's bubbly nature is a good stabilizing influence on the sixth Doctor's outburst-prone personality. There's a cute scene of Mel trying to snatch the Demeter seeds away from the Doctor, without success!
Our primary guest star this time around is the excellent Honor Blackman, whose Avengers episodes, I am sad to say, I have never seen. But based on her performance in Terror of the Vervoids alone, I think I'd love her in it. Blackman does a wonderful job portraying Lasky as a scientist who is accustomed to quick, accurate results from a highly competent support team, and has no tolerance whatsoever for shoddy work. She clearly has no time for distractions or flippancy. When something goes wrong, it's invariably the other person's fault. In fact, a lot of Lasky's dialogue sounds like it could be coming out of the Rani's mouth! She's hilariously bossy and abrupt with people. I love the way Blackman grimaces and flings the towel at Doland when he summons Lasky to the hydroponics centre, her matter-of-fact line "It's greed", followed by her unceremoniously tossing Rudge's keys at the Doctor, and her delivery of "It is, he's making sense." Lasky and the Doctor are well-matched, actually, both being extremely confident and not likely to back down. It's a little surprising that they eventually default to "mutual respect" rather than constantly butting heads; then again, Lasky does sometimes ignore the Doctor completely in favor of Mel. Her epiphany at the end ("I must have been blinded by professional vanity!") is amusingly sudden, but still a nice character moment. I must also give Lasky credit for her immense bravery in confronting the Vervoids, with the (ultimately misplaced) hope that they would be willing to reason with her.
Among the scientific contingent, the most likeable is David Allister as Bruchner, whose slightly nervous disposition and, horror of horrors, the presence of a conscience and sense of ethics, leads him to lose his nerve and try to destroy Lasky's experiment. His mounting horror as the Vervoids start their rampage is very well-portrayed, and I really like the scene in which Bruchner desperately tears up Lasky's paperwork and accuses Doland of irresponsibility. His delivery of "Don't you realize what's been unleashed?" is great. And then he turns quite scary, once he realizes that he can destroy the experiments if he destroys the entire ship, and then attacks Lasky. Malcolm Tierney is quite good as Doland, affable enough to seem like a good guy, but unscrupulous enough to be not completely likeable. So it's not a total surprise when he turns out to be the bad guy, but it is a shame because he seemed pretty nice! Teaming him up with Mel and Janet during the hijack was a nice bit of misdirection. And then there's the brief appearance by Barbara Ward as the tragic Ruth Baxter. She turns in a performance that's both chilling and pitiful, and even though she only gets two scenes, I still feel sad for her when she gets killed by a Vervoid thorn. I suppose it's just as well, given that her condition was probably irreversible, but maybe she had a chance... so it's a shame to see her die.
Among the Hyperion III crew, Yolande Palfrey makes a positive impression as Janet; although she isn't given much to do in the plot, she's the very model of a friendly and efficient flight attendant. If for no other reason, I'm very impressed with her because her reaction to a Mogarian deliberately dashing a tray of drinks out of her hand is to respond mildly, "Not to worry. It's easily changed." I am a little surprised, though, that she'd just go up to Mr Kimber's bathroom and knock on the door! Couldn't that have led to one of several embarrassing situations? Apparently her skirts have turned her into a Doctor Who sex symbol, which for some reason I find amusing. I can't say that Michael Craig makes a huge impression as Commodore Travers, but his exasperation with the Doctor is nicely done — it's kind of funny to encounter an old friend of the Doctor's who really doesn't want to see him again, because he knows that with the Doctor only comes trouble. And, of course, even though he's not particularly happy to have the Doctor around, even he must acknowledge that his ship would have been destroyed and he would have lost his life, if not for the Doctor's intervention — and by the end, he seems to regard the Doctor with much more warmth. We've also got the short-lived Edwardes, played by Simon Slater, who's quite likeable despite his brief screen time. It looks like he's going to be a good double-act with Mel, because the two of them have obvious chemistry, but sadly it comes to nothing, thanks to his death by electrocution.
Denys Hawthorne does as nice job as Rudge, who mostly hangs around following orders in the first half of the story, until we discover, in a rather nice twist, that he was bullied as a child and patronized as an adult, and now he wants to strike back. (I would argue that waiting until his last voyage before a comfortable retirement is perhaps not the best time to do so, but to each his own.) It's interesting that he wants to take over the ship — one wonders what exactly he wants to do with it. Is it to be his houseboat in space? His agitation around the Mogarians is intriguing, too — with hindsight, knowing that they were all in on the plot, you wonder if maybe he was afraid they were going to rat him out or betray him. One does really wonder if Rudge ever stopped to think why people always treat him with contempt... it brings to mind that classic Beverly Crusher quote from the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Remember Me" (one of my favorites, incidentally): "If there's nothing wrong with me, there must be something wrong with the universe." In most cases — Dr Crusher aside — that simply isn't the way things work, so I suspect that maybe Rudge really was as incompetent as Travers claimed (although, if that's the case, we really don't see any evidence of it here, aside from the aforementioned scene in which Travers, angry about Kimber's unexplained disappearance, accuses Rudge of being a terrible security officer, although — in truth — it wasn't his fault at all).
Among the guests, we have Arthur Hewlett, who seems inexplicably familiar to me for some reason — it surely must be from his role of Kalmar in State of Decay, but I didn't realize he'd made that much of an impression on me. As Kimber, he's quite charming and sweet, and it's a real shame when he gets thorned to death. (I seem to feel that way about a lot of characters in this story!) Tony Scoggo doesn't get a whole lot to do, as either Grenville / Hallett or Enzu, mostly just delivering a brusque line here or there, but he's a fine actor.
The Mogarians — Sam Howard as Atza and Leon Davis as Ortezo, although I have no clue which is which — are a very nice addition to the story, functioning on multiple plot levels. They're partly there as representatives of Mogar, to illustrate the growing tensions between Mogar and Earth over the latter's constant mining of the planet's resources. Their translator boxes are a great idea; we so rarely see alien races that don't automatically speak English, that it seems like a very nice (and fresh) touch. Pip and Jane also work these translator boxes nicely into the plot, when they provide a vital clue to the identity of an impostor Mogarian. And the fact that they don't breathe oxygen comes in very handy when the bridge is contaminated with Vervoid marsh gas. I think it's great that, having decided to set this story near the planet Mogar, Pip and Jane then proceed to weave the planet and its natives throughout the storyline, even giving us a bit of background on Mogar-Earth relations as some nice background color. It makes them feel like much more than just an incidental detail.
And, as always, our Trial stalwarts. Lynda Bellingham continues to present the Inquisitor as stern but fair, as she seems willing to hear things from the Doctor's point of view and is perfectly happy to silence either the prosecutor or the defendant. Michael Jayston continues his bloodthirsty reign as the Valeyard, who — now that he's no longer presenting his own case — seizes every opportunity to lunge for the kill as he tries to find the chinks in the Doctor's defense. I find myself unexpectedly amused by the Valeyard insulting the Doctor's outfit!
Another highlight of the story, for me, is that the Vervoids are really cool monsters. I've always loved plant-based sci-fi (like the screaming jungle on Marinus, the Krynoid, or comic-book villainess Poison Ivy), and the Vervoids are a great addition to that list. I love the way that the Vervoids are slowly revealed — first a brief glimpse of one through an air vent grate, then a look at the partially-converted Ruth Baxter, and finally their big reveal in part three. People giggle all the time about their costumes looking rude, but I've never really noticed — I just like their deep-set eyes, the cool cabbagelike fronds on their cheeks, their graceful swooping heads, their surprisingly menacing fingers, their "waxy green leaves" (a strong memory from the novelization — I remember thinking that a bush outside my elementary school had waxy green leaves too. I wonder now what kind of bush it was?)... I think it's a great design. And they present a convincing threat — not only do they have a hatred of all things animalkind, but they can back up that threat with poisonous thorns and, awesomely, toxic marsh gas. The fact that they're also practically infectious, being able to convert a human through a mere speck of pollen, makes them even more terrifying. And, if you read between the lines, apparently they feed (or at least can feed) on decaying human corpses, which of course they can "manufacture" themselves. (Much like Triffids!) One really wonders why Lasky was even considering taking them to Earth, given the incredible amount of risk involved!
As monsters (rather than alien races) go, the Vervoids are nicely clever — I like that one of them thinks to turn on the shower after having killed Kimber, to keep Janet from coming in. (Although surely she must wonder why Kimber never actually answers her question?) They're also shrewd enough to realize that one of the humans is planning a course of action that will lead to their complete downfall, so they temporarily abandon their grand plan and redirect all their efforts to killing Bruchner. They even know Bruchner's name! I'm not entirely sure how thrilled I am that they talk — might they have been even scarier if they just stalked the air vents silently? — but I suppose as a sort of plant-human hybrid, it does make sense, and they do have really cool voices. (One of them — and I hope it's the one played by Peppi Borza — is very excitable, and as their plan to eliminate all animalkind starts rolling along, it happily burbles "We are doing splendidly!")
Chris Clough does a really nice job directing. There's an awesome shot of "high intensity" light spilling out onto a Vervoid pod, causing it to awaken, until the light goes out, at which point the pod pulses once more and then subsides. I love the cliffhanger to episode one, as a Vervoid hand emerges from the pod, while Mel screams in the background and sparks flare all around. The Vervoid POV shots at the beginning of the story are pretty cool, and I like the shaky handheld (I assume) camerawork as the Mogarians are entering the bridge while the ship is buffeted by the Black Hole of Tartarus. There's another great shot when Doland slowly holds up his hand to reveal a poisonous Vervoid thorn embedded in the palm, and the fight scene by the pulverizer is really well-staged. I like the fact that the Doctor's inspiration for his vionesium plan is portrayed very subtly, with one shot of a glowing light bulb (no doubt scripted by the Bakers, so credit to them as well). His choice of red emergency lighting for the dénouement is great, and gives the climactic final scene a very interesting feel. I adore the shot of the dried-up Vervoid leaves blowing around in the howling wind (good thing this part takes place in the air vents, or we'd all be wondering where the strong breeze came from!)
Unfortunately, this is almost spoiled by Malcolm Clarke's incidental music, which in this story is overall disappointing. Oddly, I never really noticed it until I started reviewing this story, and then suddenly the musical cues I'd taken for granted started to grate on my nerves. He puts in a number of annoying comic moments, like the squawk when Mel brings in a glass of carrot juice for the Doctor, the music when the Doctor waves to the guard outside the isolation room, the horrible sting after "Now what have you landed us in?", and the cheesy tweeting sound that accompanies each of the Doctor's surreptitious hand-waves to Mel during the hijack attempt (a move that Keff McCulloch would later mimic to accompany the Kangs' hand gestures in Paradise Towers). And the aerobics music that Mel plays in the TARDIS console room is just awful — it sounds like someone stepping on a goose — as is the music that she listens to in the gym of the Hyperion III. Was Keff McCulloch an uncredited composer on this story?! There are some nice musical moments in the story, particularly during the creepier scenes, but there are enough moments that make me grit my teeth to keep me from calling it anything close to a success. However, I have to say, I do really love that they tried to merge Langford's key-of-F scream into the closing credits. That is way cool.
I know that I probably shouldn't like the costumes given to the crew of the Hyperion III, with their enormous shoulder pads and industrial-jumpsuit-looking design, but the way they're colored really wins me over. (In that respect, they remind me a bit of the Nerva Beacon uniforms from The Ark in Space). Mel's costume, however, really isn't my favorite... that buttery-yellow is surely not her best color. Why didn't they ever give Mel anything green to wear? Everybody knows that redheads and green clothing go together like potatoes and cabbage.
Effect-wise, the pulsing vein running down Ruth's face is pretty awesome (and I love that it seems to go still when Ruth is murdered). I love the look of the Mogarians' faces (and how cool that we get a glimpse of one), with their grille-like mouths. The graphic of Mogar is, I must say, much nicer than the glimpse we got of Ravolox from space. The Hyperion III has an unusual-looking design. The effect of the vionesium flaring is great, both interesting and effective. And my favorite effect of all: I LOVE the scenes of the Vervoids dying, as the costumes deflate and the leaves turn brown!!! How did they do that??? It looks amazing! Alas, some of the greenscreen work here isn't super-good; the Doctor and Mel (and most characters, actually) look a bit odd when they're standing in front of outer space. I'm not quite sure how I feel about the Black Hole of Tartarus... the swirling, reflecting red triangles are pretty cool, but... why do you represent a black hole with triangles? And they do have that old perspective problem, where one moment the Hyperion III is so close to the Black Hole of Tartarus that it fills the viewscreen, and escaping the event horizon looks impossible, and the next moment the ship is veering away and doesn't seem to be all that close to the black hole after all. The effect of the Vervoid leaf crumbling to dust in the Doctor's hand is also a bit less successful, partly because Colin Baker's thumb — if that is Colin Baker's thumb — looks very awkward and uncomfortable!
Before I move on, a moment of silence for my dear departed Terror of the Vervoids VHS tape, which packed up on me just after part ten, making it quite possibly the first of my Doctor Who tapes to be worn out from overuse (although a slightly-aged VCR may have also played a small part). Its only real contenders for this honor, as far as I can remember, are a dodgy-sound version of The Ark in Space, and The Hand of Fear, which was chewed up right and proper by a very aged VCR that was left in my apartment by a subtenant and then subsequently loaned to two separate friends. Which, I think, just goes to show you how often I watched Terror of the Vervoids, and if that doesn't tell you something, I don't know what does. (The real moral of this story: thank goodness for the age of the torrent. Even if it means that I did have to download the entire Colin Baker era just so that I could review parts eleven and twelve.)
And a little story to illustrate how dear Bonnie Langford is (not to mention my mother!). My Vervoids VHS tape died just before Christmas, and while I was home for the holidays, I mentioned to my mother that I was having a difficult time finding a copy because it wasn't out on DVD yet. "Maybe you should ask Bonnie!" she suggested. "Oh yeah, that's a great idea!" I laughed, thinking she was joking. She was not.
From: Nancy Litz
Sent: 04 January 2008 15:01
Subject: A Terror of the Vervoids!Bonnie~
It's so nice to be able to e-mail you! My son was just in for Christmas. He's been a Dr. Who fan since he was just a toddler! You were always his favorite companion.=) He was telling me how much he wanted a copy of "A Terror of the Vervoids" and couldn't find one....had looked everywhere! I'm not sure if he couldn't even find it on VHS, or if he's looking for a DVD (which of course would be his preference). Anyway, I suggested he contact you! He thought that was a GREAT idea! I was just thinking perhaps I could order one through you and surprise him with a copy!!!
Yes, having exhausted several other options, she tracked down Bonnie's fanmail address online. My embarrassment that she actually took me seriously (and what must Bonnie have thought?!) was strongly tempered by how touched I was that she would go to all the trouble. Even more amazingly — my jaw about hit the floor — was the fact that Bonnie wrote her back later that week with a very sweet message, apologizing that she couldn't help but suggesting several places where Mom might be able to find a copy online. "I so wanted to surprise you," my mother said, "but, I'm thankful you were able to find a way to get it. I wasn't doing so well......but thought you'd enjoy her sweet reply! =)" It's a fond memory I have of them both.
Minor points:
We seem to have hit a good balance with the Trial scenes here. Not only do we have relatively few of them, but they're all very well-used. Two of them involve the ongoing "corruption of the Matrix" plot thread, two of them involve the Valeyard very understandably questioning the Doctor about the evidence he's presenting in his defense (when he apparently sends Mel into danger, and — a question I myself was asking — why he is defending himself with a scene in which he deliberately disobeys the law), and one in which the Doctor pauses the ongoing proceedings to point out exactly why he was duty-bound to interfere. Then we have the excellent pair of breakaways in which the Doctor informs us that we have just seen a vital clue, and we later learn just what that clue was. It's a wonderful and appropriate use of the Trial cutaways for a murder-mystery story.
Rudge: "You are in cabin nine, and that is where you will find your luggage, Professor."
Lasky: (snatches key back) "Let's hope so!"
Mel: "It'll do you good! Honestly, carrots are full of vitamin A."
Doctor: "I've got a better idea. Let's go to Pyro Shika, a fascinating planet with -"
Doctor: "I saved your ship, though, Commodore."
Travers: "Yes you did, though whether it would've been at risk without your intervention is another matter."
Doctor: "Far cry from the carefree life of Pease Pottage, eh, Mel?"
Mel: (smiles) "I'm not complaining."
Mel: "And what about you? Going for a stroll? You just said that to put me off!"
Travers: "Whoever's been dumped in there's been pulverized into fragments and sent floating in space, and in my book, that's murder."
People keep quoting this line in isolation and mocking it, so I was all ready to hate it, but you know what? In context, it makes perfect sense. Travers is just pointing out that it's ludicrous to call that set of circumstances an "accident". And besides, the line has a very noir feel, which seems to be what this story is aiming for. So let's ease up a little on poor Pip and Jane, eh?
Edwardes: "Now, I'll go first. We don't you breaking your neck. At least not until -"
Until what??? "Until after you've died of old age"? "Until I find out you stole my Take That CDs"? "Until we've spent a hot night of passion together in my cabin"? (The way he says it, I'm leaning toward the last one! ...which makes it sound like Edwardes is into snuff films, ewww. Shutting down brain now.)
Doctor: "This is a situation that requires tact and finesse. Fortunately, I am blessed with both."
This is shortly followed by the hilarious scene in which the Doctor tries desperately to get a word in edgewise, and/or assert his knowledge, as Mel and Lasky talk to one another and completely ignore him. It illuminates the Doctor's character without making him seem pompous or ridiculous, and it gives Mel a moment to shine — very nicely written.
Doctor: "One of the occupants of that lounge is about to die."
Valeyard: "Another murder?"
Doctor: "Yes. And if you had been watching, you would know who was the intended victim."
Mel: "Never mind the 'Just So' Stories. That guard looks trigger-happy to me!"
Travers: "Fire alarms are not playthings for irresponsible buffoons."
Mel: "What are those pods in the hydroponics centre?"
Doland: "The results of another experiment."
Mel: "I could have made an educated guess at that. What was in them?"
Lasky: "We can't unlearn knowledge. You're no illiterate. How often has a great advance produced this reaction? Think of Galileo."
Doland: "The most enduring and spectacular empire, Rome, was built on slave labor."
Doctor: "Came to a pretty unpleasant end, though."
Doland: "Which brings us neatly to you."
Inquisitor: "I accept your argument. Nor, Valeyard, can you refute it."
Mel: "How could they? It's obscene!"
Doctor: "Not to a Vervoid."
Mel: "You can't justify it. It's just —" (she breaks down into tears)
Doctor: "It's a matter of perspective, Mel. In your house in Pease Pottage, you had a large garden. What did you do with the plants and weeds you uprooted?"
Mel: "Put them on a compost heap..."
Mel: (to the Doctor) "Well, at least if you're laughing, you can't be singing." (to Travers and Janet) "Have you ever heard his rendering of On With the Motley...?" (they have not) "Count your blessings!"
Doctor: "Had even a leaf survived and fallen on fertile soil, a Vervoid would have grown."
This is another story that I just never get tired of watching. There's a knockout introductory performance from my favorite newcomer Bonnie Langford, a wonderfully mellow sixth Doctor, a pretty wicked race of evil plants and a peppy murder-mystery plotline. The dialogue mostly zings, the plotting is pretty water-tight, and there's not a bad performance to be found. Replace most of the incidental music and I'd be a happy camper! Ten out of ten!