Doctor Who - The War Machines + Four To
Doomsday (BBC DVD)
Picture: C+ Sound: C+ Extras: B+/C- Episodes: C-/B+
Reaching
deep into the archives of Doctor Who
seems more like commencing an archaeological dig than traveling through time in
an old school British phone box. Archaeology, however, is not without its
own interests and so digging deep into these new volumes proves fruitful,
especially for the longtime fan. The
story arcs included in The War Machines
and Four To Doomsday in a very real
way reflect the decades within which they were made and the science fiction
trends that were current at the time.
The War Machines, which originally
aired in June and July of 1966, really feels like another time and, at 40 plus
years old, it is most certainly that. It
is grounded in the hip London scene of go-go's and Carnaby Street fashion:
wide-lapels, straight hair, and large-polka-dotted clothing. The sci-fi
in this episode is run-of-the-mill; a standard giant computer goes awry and
decides to take over the world. Of course, these were the days when a
single computer filled an entire warehouse-sized room so, at least in look,
they appear threatening. In this classic story line, the original Doctor
Who is portrayed by the fatherly, professorial William Hartnell (1963-1966) and
the computer in question is WOTAN (the Will Operating Thought Analogue).
The computer is housed in the newly opened Post Office Tower (more about that
to follow) and so an array of human slaves and mobile mechanized machines
(bearing more than a passing resemblance to giant Daleks) is put in place
to execute WOTAN's commands.
Basically, next to nothing happens for the entire four episodes. The most
threatening moments are when a lackey or two and a couple of soldiers are vaporized
and when one of "war machines" runs over two garbage cans AND some
cardboard boxes. The Doctor seems to spend the entire time
vacillating between cogitating and waiting around for others to return from
wherever they've gotten off to. No wonder long-time fans spend so much
time looking for patterns in the carpet and errant boom mikes, dollying
Dalek-like in the distance. To put it simply, time has not been kind to
this particular story. Doctor Who’s origins in Saturday matinee serials
is more than apparent, all the way down to the repeated few minutes at the
beginning of each segment to catch-up the absent or forgetful and serve as much
needed filler for an over-taxed production team.
What is thrilling about this disk, however, is the extras. The idea behind the
episode coincided with the opening of the brand new spire-like structure, the
Post Office Tower. The first extra, entitled “Now and Then,” supplies the background to the opening and also
visits various shooting locales throughout London 40 years later, which is of
interest for long-time fans, Londoners, and Anglophiles alike. The second
extra consists of segments of the British children’s show Blue Peter, which
also covers the opening of the Post Office Tower, along with excerpts from the
episode (which proved historically important), and a visit from one of the war
machines. The third extra, entitled "One Foot in the Past," chronicles the history and
privatization of the Tower through the eyes of the original postmaster general
as he returns 40 years later.
As good as all three of these extras are, the fourth is the one worth the price
of the disc for Who fans and cinema buffs alike. This segment, entitled “WOTAN Assembly”, details the
reconstruction of the 4 episode story, which had been thought completely lost,
from disparate sources from around the world. The only complete existing
copy was an AUDIO recording of the soundtrack and, using that as a basis, the
entire film was put back together with only a few bits interpolated in. A
copy censored for the viewing of children in Australia was one of the only
copies in decent enough shape to be used to put the project together, along
with a badly scratched copy from Nigeria. In one of the great ironies of
film restoration, the censored footage was largely recovered from the episode
of the children’s show, Blue Peter, which was used to promote the original
airing in 1965. Naturally they showed the good bits (the vaporizing and
knocking about of dust bins etc.) and these were the sections cut from the
Australian censored copy. Some ingenious use of the intact footage
patched in the last parts using the dialogue from the audio tape and, in this
reviewer's estimation, made a better job of it than was done in the classic
restoration of missing footage in the film Lost Horizon.
The second set under review here, Four
To Doomsday, stars Peter Davison (1982-1984), the 5th Doctor. The
story is much stronger than The War Machines, though it also reflects the time
in which it was made, with its alien race storyline and cheesy versions of then
state-of-the-art space travel effects. The Doctor and his companions,
Adric, Nyssa, and Tagan, find themselves mistakenly transported onto a large
spaceship ruled by a humanoid/toadlike creature named Monarch. The ship
is due to arrive on Earth in four days, hence the title, and is occupied by a
race from the planet Urbanka, as well as representatives from four distinct
ancient Earth cultures. Their intent is slowly revealed to be the colonization
of Earth, as their planet is no longer viable to support life. Over 3
billion of their species are aboard in the form of blots on slides, to be
regenerated upon arrival, to the detriment of humanity.
This is classic Dr. Who, plain and simple. The companions become divided
and have to be variously rescued, while the Doctor plots to outwit their
captors and overpower the seemingly godlike Monarch. Davison's portrayal
of the Doctor is solid, as always, and the story is simultaneously intelligent
and fast-paced, making it a fine addition to the overall canon.
The 1.33 X 1 picture and Dolby Digital 2.0 Mono on both sets are on par with
previous sets. Unlike the Hartnell disc,
however, the extras leave something to be desired. The first is a series
of outtakes in the filming of Four To
Doomsday, which is probably riveting for someone, I just can't imagine
whom. It is a little like a live action Photo Gallery, one of which makes
up a second "extra." All this, plus a 3 minute Theme Music
Video helps make the term underwhelming seem hyperbolic. A Saturday Night at the Mill interview of
Peter Davison by Bob Langley addresses his at that time recent selection as the
new Doctor and is mildly entertaining, though Davison demonstrating his
chocolate milk shake making capabilities is as superfluous as it sounds.
- Don Wentworth
