Behind the Sofa - The Collaborative Doctor Who Blog

Freedom from Tedium

The funny thing about this is how much more tedious these epics feel when viewed spaced out, as opposed to my usual method of watching them omnibus stylee usually with a bottle of something strong to dull the pain.

Episodes 5 & 6

Whoop-de-fucking-doo. A mad computer. That staple of poor sci-fi: what would you do if your Dell started humming Satie and plotting with your microwave? BOSS is an improvement on the standard fare, not speaking in a dreary monotone and being able to hold a decent conversation. It’s just a pity all his complex circuitry is undermined by a simple paradox that wouldn’t flummox a Texas calculator. The answer is clearly – “you’re talking unadulterated dingoes’ kidneys you pompous twat”.

Often described as UNIT’s last grasp of greatness, it is certainly noticeable where Lethbridge-Stewart finally loses his tenuous grip on credibility. He manages to be hypnotised by accident with such a gormless expression on his face it only serves to highlight the affronted-llama pose a few seconds before. Where all indignation sensors should be focused on the pretty blue plot device, you can’t help but cringe at this tubby soldier.

Thank Dicks it’s the final episode.

While the Doctor tries to exert a brain-cell to find a cure, I can only worry about that pupated maggot. What has it turned into? It sounds as if the production team has set themselves quite a task, and if you can’t realize an idea well and it isn’t vital then don’t bother. Nobody would have felt cheated if no mention had been made of the monstrosity, just another chapter to the big book of early 70s CSO catastrophes would have been spared of us.

When the BOSS dies, it makes the episode make some kind of sense. With the zany colour scheme and the sine waves across the screen, it looks very 70s, but the best the 70s had to offer. Unsurprisingly, 70s telly does semi-hallucinogenic very well indeed. While not screaming out for sympathy, it is a poignant moment when Stevens condemns himself, and his friend, to death, crying just a little bit.

I do love this era. Despite the long drawn out plots, the awful CSO, the pompous Doctor, the poor characterization, the tedious Earthbound constraints and everything else that can be thrown at it. It’s still fun and cheesy; it just takes a little patience which gets rewarded with occasional moments of beauty,

Thanks to amazing Welsh healing powers, Jones is back on his feet in no time and they can start production on “Jo and Jones on their Quest for the Fantastic Fungus”. What a great spin-off that would have been. It could have featured all the beloved Nut-Hutch crew with guest appearances by different Amazonian tribes. We might eventually get to find out what it was the Metabilan sapphire cursed.

The final scene is rightfully remembered as one of the triumphs of Doctor Who. It’s subtle, under-played, layered and heart-rending. The absolute apposite of today’s style in three of those respects. It deals perfectly with the complex relationships, (Jones treating the Doctor like the father of the bride, Yates’ heartbreak) and it’s a credit to Jon Pertwee that he packs such a lot of emotion into such little dialogue. The final image is perfect – a glint of light but an otherwise solitary figure fading away with a subdued buzz. If you don't mind, I've got something in my eye...

Poor Old Mike Yates

After three years of apparent infatuation with Jo, she's grabbed out of his clutches at the last minute by some flash scientist with long hair who grows fungii.  Typical.  'The Girls' is probably one of the reasons Mike gave on his application for joining the army.  Then when he channels all of his efforts into Jo, the one girl of his dreams, she goes into the jungle with some hippie.  And he's inadvertently wearing a suit just to symbolically demonstrate how 'straight' he is.  Again, typical. 

These are the forgotten moments of a scene whose emotional effects are usually attributed to The Doctor.  For a series that often had a reputation for running rough shod over human feelings, here are Letts and Dicks giving time to something which has simply been an undercurrent in a few previous stories, and making Yates something of a tragic hero (presumably to aid the justification of his rail falling later). 

This is just one of the many moments which can be quite happily thrown, flan like, in the face of anyone who perpetuates the myth that classic Doctor Who lacked sentiment.  Some of the praise that greeted the new series included pleasure that for the first time ever it plucked the heart strings, with the Dalek's demise in Dalek being cited as an example.  It's something that is relatively evident in every story in both new seasons, as people die usually in fairly horrific ways.

The difference in the 'old' series is that the best of such moments are unexpected.  Yes, there were the events, Sarah-Jane leaves, Tom regenerates, Adric smacking into a planet, in which tears were positively encouraged but arguably just as effective, if not more so, were the quiet times, mid-story when a companion, would all to rarely give lip surface to actually how they were feeling long term about something. 

For a split second, and Yates gapes and drops his head then looks up grinning, and there is genuine sorrow for him, at a time when the audience should really be sad to see the back of a popular companion.

In The Tomb of the Cybermen for example, although the image of the defrosting hoard arguably sticks in most memories, there is also a lovely scene in which Victoria reflects on the loss of her father in previous story; it has little to do with much of anything else happening in the story but it feels real and human, and as a side note Troughton, often remembered as being a but of a shouty clown, was for once able to present some understand and subtly, something that the programme at the time predominantly failed to tap into.

This a similar pattern to The Green Death, as nowhere has Mike's love for Jo been signalled -- indeed this is one of the rare occasions when they're even in the same room together.  The point is that for the purposes of the drama, Mike needn't be wearing his heart on his sleeve.  The rest of the story, amid the mad computer and viruses and giant maggots has been about Jo falling for Cliff and vice-versa.  Mike simply hasn't been in the frame.

For a split second, and Yates gapes and drops his head then looks up grinning, and there is genuine sorrow for him, at a time when the audience should really be sad to see the back of a popular companion.  It continues through the rest of the ensuing scene until the Brigadier's pat on the back, which is a pleasure.  Watch Franklin - Yates has been given a heart blow and he's showing it, each new bit of exposition from the research grant onwards wounding him. 

That the Brigadier is the one to console him, revealing that behind the gruff, the cap and the moustache is a man who is actually paying attention to the lives and feelings of his officers also gives Lethbridge-Stewart a dimension that wouldn't be apparent again until Mawdryn Undead some years later.  What's usually forgotten too is that this is Mike's final few moments as part of the Unit family - he's a traitor in Invasion of the Dinosaurs and in seclusion in Planet of the Spiders - so this would also be the last moment we witness them in a moment of mutual respect.  From then on, everything would change.

Management Techniques with Doctor Who

I can just about summon up the strength to see off the end of this one. This is the sort of punishment the Guantanamo Bay overlords should be doling out. And things started so well too...

The Green Death - Episode Six

Not only is the Doctor displaying a total lack of management skills, there's also little evidence of any basic intelligence. Witness his tortured thought processes as he attempts to workout what Professor Jones meant by serendipity:

Fungus... Cure... Fungus... Breakthrough... Fungus... Serendipity... Fungus...

Ad infinitum. It's just like Homer and "dental plan, Lisa needs braces", except 400% more mind numbingly irritating. And even after the maggot has been killed by the ruddy stuff, and he went out and killed the entire maggot population with fungus, he's still standing there, rubbing his fucking nose, trying to workout what the answer is. Is it an endeering trait? No, it's bum achingly annoying.

"This was at times like watching a Weakest Link Bimbo Special"

I'm sorry. It's not just me, is it? Fungus kills maggots. Slime comes from maggots. Might it be that fungus also takes care of slime induced fever? Possibly? Sitting watching this was at times like watching a Weakest Link Bimbo Special as you scream out the right answers at the unblinking imbeciles who are struggling with the simplest of Robinson quizzical projectiles.

And how comes he needed to leap from this very important, life saving work, in the first place, to drive a car whilst someone lobbed muck out of the side. Hasn't the rest of UNIT managed to pass their driving tests yet? I suppose we all know they can't even be trusted to wipe their own arses  but surely the Doctor's heard of the art of delegation? Perhaps this insufferable incarnation would only practice Venusian Delegation on the situation.

"And this is the real reason why, at the end of Earthshock, the Doctor is seen laughing right up his fucking sleeve."

And are we meant to willingly suspend out disbelief long enough to accept that thousands of these maggots are dealt with by driving up and down a single track. Didn't they remember the hardware they had at their disposal not two hours ago? Apparently not. Perhaps they're struggling to perceive what is actually there, and what's been badly CSOed into position. But the Doctor is needed for one last badly CSOed scene where the giant flying insect bares down on them. The production team should have cut their losses and had two cast members stood there describing the entire episode without any reference to visuals. The Green Exposition. Bazza would have loved that if The Ghosts of N Space is anything to go by.

But before we end the Doctor has one last management duty to carry out. And it's the moment every single line manager dreads, when one of their team leaves. It usually calls for embarrassed speeches, drinking in work time and the exchange of presents. I suspect that this is at the real heart of the Doctor's reluctance to say goodbye to his companions - trying to think about what to get them as a leaving gift alone would be enough to hope that occasionally, just occasionally, the disappear without much of a fanfare. And this is the real reason why, at the end of Earthshock, the Doctor is seen laughing right up his fucking sleeve.

The Bumper Book of Made Up Doctor Who Facts has this to say about part 6 of The Green Death: this story would hold the record for the poorest use of CSO in a series or serial until The Underworld pissed it right off the map.

Oh No! Jo Goes!!!

The Green Death Parts Five and Six

So, after all that build up we are now into the final furlong of Jo Grant’s last adventure and the main question is was it all worth it? I would say that yes it is in the long run. It may take a while to get going and there does seem to be a hell a lot of padding present in this story, much like the majority of the Pertwee era.

Part five begins with another one of these very long recaps, which almost seem to take up quite a lot of time of the episode. It makes you wonder if this story could have been told in just four parts when you consider how much time was spent on the recaps on each and every episode.

In this episode the Doctor finally gets acquainted with B.O.S.S, fruitly voiced by John Dearth who would later go onto being a poor Master substitute in the final story of the following season. The CSO use in this episode is quite a good idea but as I said before it just looks so obvious and after all a while it starts to look a little fake and you just can’t buy it for very long. Back in the seventies this wasn’t really much of a problem but today after we have gotten so used to modern day effects it just doesn’t cut it. Of course taking it, as a piece of seventies television then it doesn’t actually look as bad as I am making it out to be.

For some bizarre reason in this episode a brand new character appears as if out of nowhere and takes on a role once can only assume was meant for another character in this story. Quite why this poor bloke is suddenly summoned to Steven’s office when he isn’t even mentioned in any of the previous episodes is anyone’s guess. I mean did the producers think no one would notice that a completely new character is there for no apparently good reason except to be killed later on in the same episode? Still, it allowed for a nice joke in one of the extras on the DVD in the end.

In the sixth and final episode which is quite possible the best of the bunch, quite a lot happens and at the end we get quite possibly the best leaving scene out of all the companions (and I am including Sarah Jane’s exit amongst the final scenes of this episode as a good example of how to write a companion out) when Jo finally takes here leave of the Doctor.

It was quite obvious from the first episode of this story onwards that Jo was getting ready to leave and maybe finding Clifford Jones along the way was just serendipity (hey neat tie in there to one of the main themes of this episode!) because she may well have left anyway.

Still it was a nice way to write her out and that last scene of the Doctor quietly leaving the party and Jo looking back at him as he left the room was quite moving. In that scene you got more emotion than in probably the last three seasons put together.

You also got Mike Yates in action hero mode in this episode escaping from Global Chemicals by jumping from the roof onto the entrance roof and then onto the ground before running of to warn the Brigadier just in the nick of time, all in an incredibly camp manner.

The episode did have its downsides of course but that was only in the CSO which was pretty bad as usual but that was nothing compared to that oversized fly. I am sure in 1973 it looked really good but watching it now just makes you laugh out loud every time you see it on screen.

The Green Death is probably not one of the best Pertwee stories of all time (but is close), but it is the best of the tenth season.

"I am the BOSS. I'm all around you."

It's the one with the giant maggots.

And with that out of the way... I found it a little hard to get through this one. Maybe it was the cliched characterisations (if I never hear someone say the word 'Boyo' again it'll be too soon), maybe it was the slightly iffy acting in places, maybe it was the constant interchanging of the men in suits, maybe it was the over-reliance on CSO, maybe it was the plot lacking in places... hell, maybe it was all of them. But whatever it was, I had trouble watching this. But hey, I did it anyway. See how I suffer for my art!

Anyway. So the Doctor finally gets to Metebelis III and surprise! It's a quarry. Okay, maybe it's not a surprise, but whatever. And from there, he heads to Wales, where there's been a couple of deaths involving people glowing green. Then there's some technical gumf about toxic waste, a bunch of maggots appear, the bad guy turns out to be a computer, that hideous yellow car reappears, the maggots are killed by mushrooms, the computer gets a Napoleon complex, someone sacrifices themselves to blow it up and Jo gets engaged without the ring or anything. Standard fare really.

The most amazing thing about this story is how plain it is. There's nothing particularly stunning about it - giant maggots hardly being original, nor a meglomaniacal machine either. There's really very little that IS original about this one, which is a shame, as it does get some pretty good model work and the maggots themselves are pretty darned effective, which is more than I can say about their victims. There's some shockingly stiff acting going on in places, and it's not helped that the actors often don't have a great deal to say or do.  There are moments that counterbalance these - the supposedly emotionless BOSS humming classical tunes (albiet in a somewhat irritating manner) and the sheer idea of the Doctor dressing up as a cleaning lady - could you imagine Eccleston doing the same? - is fantastic, but they aren't enough to stop the story being somewhat average.

I'm struggling for something good to say about this story, and the best I can come with is that I didn't hate it. But neither did I feel anything special towards it. It's a bit of a nothingy story really, something that you could watch while drunk and it would still make sense. Which is a shame, as Katy Manning really needed something decent to send her off, and instead she gets upstaged by a bunch of condoms. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

The Bumper Book of Made Up Doctor Who Facts has this to say about The Green Death: In the original script, Jon Pertwee went through a variety of disguises on his way to contact Yates, including a Sailor's outfit, a Gimp suit and a Father Christmas outfit. Surprisingly, it was Barry Letts who objected to this as opposed to Pertwee, who was halfway into his leather trousers when he was informed of the change.

Ok Computer

Oh look... it's a computer gone insane. Well durr... No surprises there then. Biomorphic Organizational Systems Supervisor. The BOSS. Yet another megalomaniacal computer, whose creators spent more time agonizing over a witty acronym to describe their creation, rather than making sure that its programming wouldn't lead to world domination syndrome. And those of you who where hoping for a cameo from Bruce Springsteen are looking very sheepish now, aren't you? Hell. At this stage most of us would have settle for a cameo from Hank Marvin. Although we'd probably have just gotten his party trick impression of a paranoid android.

The Green Death - Episode Five

Bit of a let down really. How many more of these insane buggers are there around the place? Didn't they know that they needed to apply service pack 2 in order to prevent the early signs of megalomania? The Motherboarding asshole. Bet it's a Microsoft operating system he's running too. The human race wouldn't have been in such dire straits if it was an Apple OS running the show. All we'd have in that case was some some stunningly designed computers and plenty of eye candy. Instead, we get Gerry Anderson cast offs that someone's rescued from the back of the Pinewood set.

"There's absolutely no reason to dramatize IT Helpdesk calls and stick them on in place of the usual Saturday tea time programming."

How lucky it is that the Doctor's on hand to deal with this sort of occurrence. Ditching his usual act of the tourist of time and space to become more like IT help desk tech support. "This computer I bought from you, it's trying to take over the world. What's your policy on that?" Calls may well have been recorded for training purposes, but that's absolutely no reason to dramatize them and stick them on in place of the usual Saturday tea time programming.

The only computer to ever be linked to a human brain. When why isn't he thinking about sex every 6 seconds? Of course, it's just possible that that's why the BOSS has become so deranged and has started climbing up the walls because of Stevens' permanent sexual fantasies over his continual procession of new secretaries, in a Reggie Perrin stylee. Each one fitter, happier than the last. The BOSS's frustration at not being able to act on these desires being the main driver behind his current state of mind. Stevens' borderline electioneering tactics isn't enough to take the BOSS's RAM partition off his aching hard drive. Nor has the fact that the maggots have been driven underground as a result of UNIT's pork fisted attempts to destroy. These subterranean homesick aliens merely react as nature intended and attempt to get back to the surface.

The so-called light relief, Yates' horseplay in this hard hitting eco-drama/IT gone mad, is bang out of place. And you're just left feeling a lot like the impact collision caused by a Reliant going mano-e-mano with an articulated lorry, resulting only in a face full of airbag and whiplash. I use the words "relief" and "Yates", in such close proximity, under advice from the Sexual Innuendo Council Of England (SICOE).

And as for the side padding (I mean plot) where Jo and Cliff fall into a cave to hide from the explosions proceeding to fall onto a radio, head first, smashing it to smithereens, barely causes even a spark of interest. Although they just might have gotten their just deserts, so there's no need to call the Karma Police just yet.

The Bumper Book of Made Up Doctor Who Facts has this to say about part 5 of The Green Death: the BOSS was the the inspiration behind the computer from Superman III. The destruction of the computer actually won the Oscar for the best exit music (for a film).

Did anyone see what I did there?

Hugo BOSS

Let’s quickly review what happens this episode - [SFX: chirruping of cicadas and the occasional tumble weed.]

Episode 4

In a less than straight laced resolution to last week’s cliffhanger, what’s-his-puss sneaks in on Jo and our maggot decides he much prefers the dark, macho type and he’ll have a piece of that. It buggers off in shame when its unwanted advances knock what’s-his-puss off. At least this proves the maggot virus doesn’t just affect welsh miners.

our maggot decides he much prefers the dark, macho type and he’ll have a piece of that

UNIT relish the opportunity to get nasty with some high explosives. They’re always up for a little wholesale destruction and nothing so namby-pamby as logic will stand in their way. Just give them a shit load of TNT and they’re off.

Stevens should be awarded some kind of medal for his superlative effort in withstanding a whole half-hour of quality scientific advisor scowling. Eventually he gives in and calls in his counter-weapon – the formidable Mike Yates.

Now, there been some considerable Richard Franklin bashing recently and I’d like to stand up and defend Yates as he’s always been my favourite of the UNIT family and in their final year he gets very interesting. I think he was a sort of proto-Harry, not so developed but still a start. He’s great in the double-speak scene (accompanied by Yate’s Guard, whoever that is) and he manages not to laugh at Pertwee’s drag act, which must earn him a BAFTA at least.

The Brig’s slide into lunacy worsens

When they do eventually blow the mine to fuck, it’s a very good model shot, instantly overshadowed by an utterly 3^rd Doctor moment denouncing sin from the pulpit like a luxuriantly eyebrowed Scots elder to quote someone or other.

The Brig’s slide into lunacy worsens as he describes the maggots as “creepy crawlies” and utters the single most inaccurate prophecy since the old fluttering paper, “Peace in our Time” gag. A flutist, (or the electronic equivalent of) dies in gasps of agony at the tedious inevitability of the outcome with a “tra-la-la” and nary a “wa-wa-waa” in sight.

Some poor dear gets the shock of her life as she enters what was, only a week ago, a top security room only to find the crazy maggots have overflowed their breeding ground and managed to climb the pipe, clinging to the sides and squishing on top of each other in the hope of finding another choice morsel like that chauffer, what’s-his-puss. On the other side of the moor, we get yet more UNIT troops so thick they don’t notice the massive maggots kissing their boots.

As usual they try to shoot the bastards but, as they should have learnt by now, it would be too easy to have an attack so easily repelled. Don’t they know this is lazy sci-fi and they’re invincible to all conventional weaponry? It’s no wonder the Brig and that other UNIT troop can’t even hit a single maggot – it’s so ingrained in their training to shoot between the eyes, they aim at head height despite the maggot being on the floor.

Poor Elgin’s copped it and we have yet another break-in where nothing is achieved save the scarring of a generation. I bet Jon Pertwee waited for years to be allowed to do a drag act on Doctor Who. It seems BOSS is fuelled solely by milk judging by the amount’s delivered. If the sight of Pertwee in a bushy false moustache doesn’t induce nausea, the dress will. I think I feel that coma coming on again...

That bloody fool Jones tries to use a microscope without any of the lenses in position for the whole time. He’s a charlatan. He’s not discovered a cure, he’s just been starring into darkness. Before he can share this tremendous news, he realizes Jo was driven away by his excessively Docteresque pomposity and discourtesy.

Ahh, the predictive power of Dicks and Sloman – in the future, all computers will be so large and so expensive only the most powerful governments will able to afford them. And these super-computers will be imbued with a tremendous power over mankind: they will have fruity voices. BOSS, to be fair, is more interesting than your average megalomaniac calculator (because, as he says, he’s irrational) with more of a humanity to him – a passion for Wagner, little idiosyncrasies, a playful relationship with his minion and, of course, a plummy voice.

If nothing else, this story has imbued me with a terrible fear of the cash registers you get called BOSSes. Tune in next week to see if it’ll screw up your order!

Close your eyes

Yes, I’m a wee bit behind schedule but the truly atrocious CSO sent me into a shock-induced coma. Four episodes and just two days... can I make it?

Episode 3

Blown up condoms, hippie love-in communes, fire-side trysts, the amazon, “going down”... this is charged! Of course, you’d never find such innuendo laden children’s entertainment nowadays. Just wouldn't happen.

Sweet tap dancing, sugar coated Jesus just look at the punting scene. Where to begin? The backdrop, perchance: why couldn’t they have used the far superior shots from earlier or at least made the maggots appear a little bigger. Then there’s the troublesome yellow screens... heads and limbs vanish at random and the cart looks like it’s floating in midair, supported only by Pertwee’s, err... pole. See? There it is again. If that wasn’t enough, they show the thing twice.

Always the Gentleman, our Doc shoves Jo into the path of danger first, taking an egg to make a socking great omelette for tea. He even tries it on in the pipe. Poor Jo. Is there anyone in this story who hasn’t had a good feel so far?

I’d draw the line at the Brig, who’s now changed into a smart navy blazer. I suppose he’s a bit like Barbie: you have the khaki outfit, the sheep-skin coat, the preppy boy ensemble and there’s even accessories. There’s his sporty roadster and that all-purpose nuclear-resistant jeep. Just like the shoes, though, you always end up losing the moustache.

In that phone call you can tell the Minister for Ecology is sick to the back teeth of that bloody UNIT chap and his supposed “alien invasions”. He all but tells him where to stick his maggots but Stevens aids the healing process with a stiff Scotch in the first of many debauched, drunken scenes.

Fell continues being stilted and s-p-e-a-k-i-n-g b-r-o-k-e-n-l-y, while Elgin continues to be oddly dishy in a “I didn’t go to Specsavers,” half grown moustache kinda way. The bizarre security system at Global Chemicals demands all pipes be fitted with cameras on the off chance some hapless miner may try to climb them. Thankfully that saves Jo and the Doctor’s sorry arses and screws with Fell’s brain so much he craves increased You and Yours input. Five hours of John Waite and Liz Barclay concentrated into one single dose would cause severe haemorrhaging in anyone but he’s already that side of deranged so one more man from Worcestershire complaining about the number of black fruit pastilles you get per tube tips him over. It’s a good thing too because those side-burns just looked out of place. He makes a good splat in what is, after all, quite a surprising event for a children’s programme.

It’s nothing to the horror of Jo’s dress though: the colour of parma violets and shapes like a six year old bride’s maid’s frock with an extra long skirt it makes her look about seven months pregnant. The Doctor – bloody typical – ruins the evening’s mellowness (Brig smoking a joint, everyone tucking into some “special” mushrooms) with news of Bert’s death. Poor bugger collapsed under the weight of his own stereotype.

Bert’s soon forgotten as Jo and the Professor enjoy a moment together by the fireside, completely ruined by a jealous Doctor. Staying up late reading, ha! That’s a pretty euphemism.

This week’s cliff-hanger involves the latest CSO disaster, the maggot hatched from the Doctor’s egg which everyone forgot about in the swing of the party. An inflatable condom sidles up to Josephine Grant and rears up. Nice.

Serendipity-doo-da!

Warning: this episode may induce incidents of manly crying.

The Green Death Part 6

Everyone’s going fungus-mad in this final episode: the Brig’s chomping it down like it’s a Sunday roast, the Doctor finds it’s both a cure to the maggot menace and Professor Jones’ nasty case of CSO and Jo finally realises what a fun-guy (sorry!) her new-found beau could be if she lets him take her up the Amazon (let’s not go there again, shall we…)

It’s a tale of two maggots in this final instalment. One’s flown the coup and turned into a beautiful hybrid of lepidoptera and BBC visual effects department, whilst the other’s been going all super-size-me on the fungus (with typically obese-culture results).

Meanwhile BOSS has become that oh-so rare form of mad super-computer that sings to itself in the shower. With Stevens now its pawn in bringing total devastation to the valleys (perhaps no bad thing, given the evident in-breeding amongst much of its populace) the mad-micro-chipped-monstrosity is deciding the time is nigh to perform some sort of request show for sixteenth century composers. Later, it will even set up the world’s first human/computer ventriloquism act - think Roger de Corsey and Metal Mickey in some obscene parody of Saturday night entertainment. I mean how bloody evil is that?

think Roger de Corsey and Metal Mickey in some obscene parody of Saturday night entertainment

And as though the show has finally remembered its sixties’ remit for ‘edutainment’, this week Doctor Who is brought to you by the word ‘serendipity’. Such happy accidents (at least the ones not leading to council estate teenage pregnancies) are all the Doctor needs to cook up a cure to both Jones’ snotty-looking fever and the whole problem of discarded condoms across the length and breadth of Llanfairfach. Still, at least we should be grateful that all that used rubber should be preventing any more happy accidents; though if the solution is the sight of the Doctor and Benton chucking fungus at the poor, drashig-faced creatures like so much discarded dung then we can only be thankful that more of them didn’t make it airborne.

On which note, that fly is not exactly of Cronenberg standards, is it? I’m not sure what is more unintentionally hilarious: Benton calling out ‘here, kitty kitty’ to the hapless pupae; the Doctor cowering from one of Barry Letts’ notoriously ropey pieces of CSO; or the toreador-esque way in which Pertwee’s cape brings the beast down to earth with a fibreglass crunch.. No, wait a minute - it’s got to be the Brigadier’s reaction to the fungus’ effect: ‘They’re dying like…well…like maggots’, he somehow manages to keep a straight face saying. Priceless.

Having dealt with the environmental aspect, the Doctor and UNIT make haste to Global Chemicals where, with a bit of persuasion, Stevens finally does the decent thing and gets all Wrath of Khan with his nutty-as-squirrel-shit superior. And as though it goes without saying, everyone manages to avoid the resultant cataclysmic meltdown by hiding behind one of UNIT’s sturdy, Teflon-coated jeeps. They really don’t make ‘em like that any more, do they?

Stevens finally does the decent thing and gets all Wrath of Khan with his nutty-as-squirrel-shit superior

So far, so final episode of the season jollity. But Jo’s got a bombshell to drop (and no, it’s not one of those ‘happy accidents’ we mentioned earlier). Apparently the temptation of having the Professor take her up the Amazon (no sniggering, please) has proven too much and she somehow even agrees to marry the perv without being properly asked first. The Doctor’s reaction - ‘I do believe I’m going to be wanted on the telephone’ - isn’t exactly straight out of the text-book of pissed-off, dumped pseudo-boyfriends either (especially as he seems to make little or no attempt to back up his telephonic claims). So as the UNIT regulars - as though knowing their days are now clearly numbered - dance their way into the summer recess, Pertwee does the decent thing and leaves quietly with nary a tear in his eye (unless you’re reading the Target novelization that is). No fanfare, no high-octane emotion, no beach, no gate-crashing cameo by Mollie Sugden. Just poignant. And perfect.

But he’s really gonna regret leaving her that crystal.

(The Bumper Book of Made-Up ‘Doctor Who Facts’ has this to say about (sob) The Green Death 6: Russell T Davies attempted to ape the emotional impact of Jo’s leaving scene by having the crew on ‘Doomsday’ scrunch onions in their eyes whilst simultaneously watching the ritualistic slaughter of cute kittens and shouting ‘CRY, DAMN YOU!!!’ through a loud-hailer at them)

Oil's Well That (You're Fired. - Neil)

The Green Death, episode 6

A moment of silence before we begin. As I settle down to review Jo Grant's final episode, I reflect on how much brighter and happier the UNIT family years became, how there couldn't have been a single dry eye amongst the production team in the knowledge that one of the show's most beloved icons would shortly be departing, and how the show would never be quite the same again.

Yes, let us shed a tear for the last ever usage of howlaround titles. It truly is the end of an era.

"The story's 'green' credentials have now been pissed all the way up the wall and onto the ceiling"

Back we go again to Stevens' office - as the Global Chemicals complex consists of four rooms and a corridor, this is getting a mite tedious - where Roy Skelton, having made the mistake of referring to the computer as 'Bungle-Bonce', has fallen victim to the Phil Spector Wall Of Sound treatment. I must say his Paul Mc Cartney impressions here are dead good. Just can't depend on anyone, ruminates Stevens; it's not like there's been a great deal of competition in this field since after five episodes, the casualty list stands at a measly six. Not even any UNIT personnel, which is odd as I thought they were saving the trade union allegory for The Monster Of Peladon the following year.

It's all work, work, work at the Nuthutch in the quest to find the cure. The Brigadier's more concerned with his stomach, but as the only available culinary option is the tray of dirt and dog poo with which Colin Baker rubbed his face in The Mark Of The Rani, breakfast is not such an attractive prospect. With Jones' notes gone walkabout and research still stumbling in the dark, it's looking like another twenty five minutes of faffing about until Benton bursts in with an empty carapace and terrific news - at last something's going to happen! Well maybe, just as soon as we've had the 'shock relevation' revealed to us two episodes ago, that Cliff's special hybrid fungus kills giant maggots.

I repeat - a genetically-modified fungus which acts as a deadly pesticide is supposed to solve all the world's food problems. The story's 'green' credentials have now been pissed all the way up the wall and onto the ceiling.

BOSS' puzzlement at the failure of Yates and James' processing appears to have nothing to do with the big blue glowy Dungeons & Dragons dice still on Yates' person. Inefficient? Try rubbish, mate.

Groan. When I assumed something was going to happen, I naively thought it would be something new and not the exact same tatty chromakey and back-projection car effects we had last week. Scattering fertiliser at minus two miles an hour does not an enthralling action sequence make, but the maggots have all died of boredom so that's one problem solved at least. Well done lads. Now how do you propose to clear the buggers up?

Mike Yates is having by far the most fun this episode, hauled up in chains and roughhoused by burly men in dark uniforms and leather. This is the last word about Richard Franklin's performance that anyone need ever write.

By my reckoning the giant fly gets a total of around thirty-five seconds of screen time, which is a good indicator of how lame Barry Letts also thought it was.

The countdown to zero-hour - zero being the number of people who are likely to actually notice - is underway. More long-winded ubermensch pomposity from BOSS, whose musical ear is roughly on the same par as the Delaware theme. BOSS is such a absolute twat that I have no difficulty in picturing him with David Tennant's voice - "I love takeovers, they're BWILLIANT!" Even Stevens is getting pissed off. Meanwhile the gate guard decides to play musical statues to pass the time, giving Jon the chance to nip inside the building. Between Yates getting in/out and the Doctor getting out/in - in, out, in, out, shake it all about - I wish someone would once and for all make up their fucking mind.

The confrontation between the Doctor and BOSS is by far the hardest thing to write about in this whole review because there's barely a single element left to comment on that hasn't already been covered. Fruity voice. Crystal. Colour filters. Sine waves. Self-righteous indignation. Explosion. Zzzzzzzz. It's a good enough standalone sequence, but dammit, we've already SEEN it five times in this story in one form or another. "Isn't there another answer?" Jerome Willis does perform a great ventriloquist's dummy act though, and the optical effects were reet smart by 1973 standards. Um, how about we just cut straight to the touching marriage proposal and party afterwards? I think we'd all be a lot happier.

"Mike Yates is having by far the most fun this episode, hauled up in chains and roughhoused by burly men in dark uniforms and leather"

It's beautifully written, this bit. It's genuinely sweet, it's not overplayed, and the Doctor's expression as he drowns whatever sorrows he can with a single swig of champagne, as the reality of not getting his own way all the time finally sinks in, is almost worth slogging through the previous 145 minutes just to get to. It even temporarily writes out that bloody crystal, thus offering a respite from the cheapest cop-out plot device this side of the new series' psychic paper, so it's win-win all the way.

Thus it comes to pass that Mrs Josephine Jones prepares to emigrate to Australia via the Amazon river, while we're left to dwell upon newer and better things, like slit-scan and diamond logos. And as the dinky Palitoy Bessie is pulled along the sunset on a piece of string and the final shot fades out, even the closing EEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeoooooooo is subdued this week.

Bye bye everybody.

The Bumper Book Of Made-up Doctor Who Facts has this to say about The Green Death episode 6: Jon Pertwee's on-camera sadness was genuine as Barry Letts had just broken the news that his clothing allowance had been cut in half for the following season.