Smorgasbord of the Doctor

There are a lot of reasons The Two Doctors is significant for Doctor Who canon, but the three parter doesn't really get to the meat, so to speak, of the story until the third episode. This is where writer Robert Holmes really leaned into trying to convince the audience to go vegetarian while convincing the Doctor in the process. I doubt he actually converted many, if any, viewers but the attempt is entertainingly grotesque.

This is the first time two incarnations of the Doctor, Six (Colin Baker) and Two (Patrick Troughton) met without it being an anniversary episode and it's the first time the show shot on location in Spain. Like City of Death and Arc of Infinity (shot in Paris and Amsterdam, respectively), The Two Doctors makes use of the beautiful scenery. Which is always really refreshing for a show typically shot on cheap plywood sets.

I wonder what the locals made of this trio. Colin Baker was coaxed out of his coat by the incredible heat in Seville and Jamie's (Frazer Hines) removed a black coat that had initially accompanied this costume. I rather wish Jamie had actually dressed like that all the time during his original tenure on the show. He almost looks like the character he inspired on Outlander.

Meanwhile, Peri (Nicola Bryant), of course, was already showing plenty of skin. The Sixth Doctor's companion for most of his run, Peri is notorious for being weakly performed and written, her character concept apparently being primarily about her physical beauty. But, yeah, she's a knock out. Those gams . . .

And Robert Holmes was eager to use every asset to push his message. The second episode cliffhanger is Peri being straddled by Shockeye (John Stratton) with a point of view shot from her of him leering down at her with grasping hands saying, "Pretty, pretty." It looks like he's about to rape her and that's likely the intended impression. But, no, of course he simply wants to chop her up, cook her and eat her. The strategy here is to transfer the horror of one crime to another and maybe also for the young viewer, lusting after Peri, to be horrified at what a colossally ugly waste it would be for her to be slaughtered beyond recognition.

Later, Jamie, the Second Doctor's companion, receives a similar threat as Shockeye is busy "tenderising" the meat unconscious on the table. Also in Holmes' arsenal are scenes of Shockeye and Two arm in arm like a couple Mr. Hydes on the town in top hats, eager to sample all kinds of cuisine.

Of course, if this kind of thing really turned people into vegetarians, no-one who's ever seen Cannibal Holocaust would think of touching meat again. Activist vegetarians so often think that meat eaters haven't made the connexion mentally between the food on their plate and the happy little calf bounding about in the field but that's not true. People are quite conscious of compartmentalising and they have no qualms about it, some even relish in it (again, see Cannibal Holocaust. Or rather, don't). Even as a vegetarian myself, I can't help but laugh watching Two and Shockeye grinning at the waiter and the waiter misunderstanding when Shockeye asks, "Do you serve humans?"

The serial also features Jacqueline Pearce as the chief villain, an Androgam like Shockeye, but one who's been genetically altered to stabilise her appetite. Despite his apparent disgust for Androgams, the Second Doctor very amusingly points out how stupid it is to go to the trouble of modifying one species to behave like another.

Six does not benefit from being placed beside Two, of course. It's hard to say exactly what it is but somehow when Two says, "Come along, Peri," it's with infinitely more gentle understanding, even if Two, like all the Doctors, is supposed to be a bit self absorbed. Something about Colin Baker's performance is just so tinny and disconnected in a way that's difficult to describe.

Twitter Sonnet #1143

The cutlery across the kitchen moved.
Accord asserted by the forks awoke.
As nothing filled the spoon could prove.
A story cut is not in full revoked.
Continued stars inflame the worlds below.
A watch the size of pockets ticked apace.
A row of silent daisies think, "Hello."
An army brought an ant for just in case.
A cycle starts again but in a car.
An amber motor's gone without a sound.
Elab'rate hats adorn the taller tsar.
His cap was set too high to see the ground.
The hedges hid an empty plot of grass.
A cloud of wasps became a pretty mass.

All the Suns

The Sun Makers was one of my least favourite Fourth Doctor serials the first time I watched through the series and I still don't like it very much. The best parts are improvisations between Tom Baker and Louise Jameson--the Fourth Doctor being my favourite Doctor and Leela being one of my favourite companions. But the main story, which Robert Holmes wrote apparently inspired by his recent troubles with tax authorities, has the trappings of a political satire but never connects because the premise doesn't make any sense. With some especially badly coordinated action sequences, the episode spends most of its time treading water in a capture and rescue routine.

The TARDIS materialises on Pluto where, in the future, suns have been manufactured to give the planet constant, global sunlight. Workers are enslaved by an all powerful Company and forced to pay enormous taxes. We meet poor workers who are breathing air polluted with drugs designed to give them anxiety and a cartoonish elite led by a Gatherer (Richard Leech) and Collector (Henry Woolf).

But a satire about taxation really only works if the people being taxed have some economic autonomy. What is the Collector taxing, exactly? Currency? What use is the currency the Collector and his Company presumably produce when they literally control everything--world, resources, and even the suns? All of the workers seem to be devoted to mining and industrial operations. They certainly don't seem to be selling anything to any competitors. Maybe some people are subsistence mining?

But the Doctor and Leela are so charming together. There's a moment early on where Baker obviously seems to improvise a line that causes Jameson to break. Leela speculates, "Perhaps everyone runs from the taxman," after which there's a pause and their new worker friend nods. Baker needlessly says, "He says you're right," and Jameson's face instantly turns into what seems like suppressed laughter. It's not especially funny but the feeling of authenticity to the moment is a charming diversion.

This is the second serial to feature K9 (John Leeson), following The Invisible Enemy, a serial I like even less. The Sun Makers is book-ended by a chess game between the Doctor and K9.

Here's the board at the start and it's the Doctor's move. Looks like he has both a bishop and a queen vulnerable to K9's queen. A sensible move would probably be to move his queen to a point where the queen and bishop protect each other--I'd probably move queen to queen's two. Instead, though, the Doctor takes the pawn on queen's knight four, inexplicably deciding to leave his bishop, queen, and now a pawn open to attack. K9 ignores all this so maybe there's a trap I don't see and gives check by moving his "bishop to queen six." Fortunately for the armless K9, Leela seems to learned chess notation.

I assume it was Baker's improvisation to move his king all the way across the board after this--when K9 says, "Wrong square" it's an understatement. K9 claims to see mate in six moves but that depends on how the Doctor moves. He doesn't have many options. But by going king to king's three he can at least protect his queen and then take K9's queen if K9 decides to do a discovered check by moving his bishop. But if K9 decides to take the Doctor's bishop the Doctor can't get compensation. It's hard for me to believe he didn't see all this trouble coming from his pawn move, though. I think he was letting K9 win.