Day 226 — August 14th 2021
The Robots of Death Parts One and Two
The Robots of Death — Part One
I need to open this one by talking about how incredible the model work on this story is, because I can’t remember the last time a Doctor Who story gave us such gorgeous — or substantial — use of models throughout the narrative. We open with a vast establishing shot of the Sand Miner as work, and the longer the shot goes on the more impressive it becomes. There’s a real sense of scale to the landscape it’s set in that makes you almost forget that you’re watching a model because you’d have expected to reach the edge of the ‘set’ by now.
As the episode goes on, it takes the idea of using models to add scale to a whole new level, by integrating shots of he full-size sets — complete with actors — into the models, to help place them within the larger structure of the ship. The earliest example comes with a shot of the bridge, which has been cropped brilliantly to make the window look long, but I think the most impressive example comes later on when Doctor Who discovers the TARDIS, and it’s put into the model so well that it completely fools you. Perhaps the best example of integrating models and live action comes when Doctor Who and Leela look out across the desert as a sand storm begins to rise up, which look beautifully alien and incredibly effective.
They make the most of having a TARDIS model, too, with a great shot of it spinning off through space and an even better one of it being listed out of the hopper by a big metal claw — it’s the kind of image that would have stuck with me as a kid. I could go on and on about the use of models in this one, but suffice to say that I’m hugely impressed.
That feeling stretches across the direction of the material on the full-size sets, too, which is especially noteworthy this week. I’ve had a bit of a love and hate relationship with Michael Briant, who’s making his final directorial appearance with this story. The Sea Devils especially was some of the best direction we’d seen in a long time, but much of his later work has been a bit workmanlike and dull. It feels like he’s gone all out here, though. Especially lovely is the use of high-angled shots to give us an interesting perspective on the sets. It’s used well on the busy bridge set, and even better in the TARDIS Control Room (the wooden version also making a final appearance here). I’m so used to seeing these sets shot in a particular way that it really stands out when someone dares to do something a bit different like this.
As for the story itself… I’ve been listening to the Dan Stephens audiobook of And Then There Were None lately, having not done the novel for fifteen years or so. It’s been great to rediscover one of my favourite Christie mysteries, and I’m really struck by how much of the same atmosphere is present in this story. The sense of a group of people thrown together with suspicion and murder, each with their own secrets and axes to grind… it’s a lot of fun and I’m enjoying it enormously.
I’ve spent the last two days praising Chris Boucher’s work as a writer, especially when it comes to dialogue, and I’m pleased to see that he’s on form as much here as he was in the last story. I’m particularly font of Doctor Who’s description of why he doesn’t carry weapons;
Leela: ‘You mean you can’t control this machine?’
Doctor Who: ‘Well, of course I can control it. Nine times out of ten. Well, seven times out of ten. Five times. Look. Never mind, let’s see where you are. You won’t need that [gun].’
Leela: ‘How do you know?’
Doctor Who: ‘I never carry weapons. If people see you mean them no harm, they never hurt you. Nine times out of ten.’
Indeed, the relationship between Doctor Who and Leela continues to be interesting here, and it almost makes me a bit sad because I’m not sure it’s always going to be as well written as this. I absolutely adore Leela using a yo-yo because she thinks it’s part of the ‘magic’ which makes the TARDIS fly, and Her cutting remark to Doctor Who when she’s confused by the world of metal she’s found herself in;
Doctor Who: ‘I have seen a similar sort of thing on Korlano Beta. The mine passes over the surface searching for useful ores. Naturally, the heavier elements tend to sink into the substratas, so a really good sandstorm is a bonus. It stirs things up a bit.’
Leela: ‘Sometimes you talk like a Tesh.’
Doctor Who: ‘Thank you.’
Leela: ‘It was not well meant.’
I’ll admit to having not been hugely impressed by The Robots of Death in the past, but I’ve found a lot to enjoy this time around, and I’m going with a 9/10 for this opening episode.
The Robots of Death — Part Two
I think I might have a touch of Grimwade’s Syndrome, because I’m actually finding the robots quite creepy this time around. There’s something so beautiful about the design, but you honestly do forget that there’s real people inside those costumes — it’s very easy to disconnect from that fact and think of them as being quite static objects. There’s one shot in particular in this episode where Leela turns around to discover D84 behind her and it genuinely made me jump a bit, because it’s seriously un-nerving. Similarly, there’s a shot in Part One where a Robot gets right in Doctor Who’s face and you’re a little struck by just how intimidating they are.
I think it’s a sign of how well everything works together that they feel believable as robots. There’s several instances where you can clearly see the back of the masks, where there’s a gap behind the collar, and the outfits aren’t the kind of thing you’d expect to find a robot servant wearing, but I never question them for a moment. I don’t think I’ve ever really appreciated what a great bit of design they are.
This story is the sole Doctor Who credit for Elizabeth Waller providing costumes and in many ways, the costume design for this story as a whole shouldn’t work. Not only are the robots a singularly unusual look for mechanical men, but the rest of the crew on this Sand Miner are wearing some of the most bizarre and outlandish costumes the series has ever served us up. They feel like the kind of thing that someone who doesn’t watch Science Fiction would create if asked to do so, and I suspect that’s exactly what happened.
And yet… somehow I don’t bat an eyelid at them. Even when they all start donning silly headgear to go to work on the Bridge it just feels right as part of this world and I’m happy to go along with it. I wonder if part of that is because it all looks so interesting? The make up on their faces is unusual, too, and only adds to the effect.
Kenneth Sharpe has his final outing as a designer with this story (having previously worked on two of my favourites — The Macra Terror and The Claws of Axos) and he’s gone a bit off the beaten track when it comes to the set design, too. Perhaps picking up on the Agatha Christie vibes in the script he’s presented the interior of the Sand Miner as a kind of art deco palace, and it’s fascinating. It completely sells the idea of a world where people live in pampered luxury and leave the hard work to their robot servants. Of course the robots have a pleasingly Art Deco vibe to them, too so this feels like one of the most consistent worlds we’ve visited in a long time.
That’s all helped, of course, by Chris Boucher on scripting duties. As with The Face of Evil he’s filled the story with some very believable characters, and even with so many of them all around at once they manage to remain pretty distinct. I feel like I understand the way each of them fits into this world, and the little snippets of world building beyond the confines of this setting (talk of the Founding Families for example) only helps to add to the richness on display. This story has been the inspiration for a whole host of spin-off material, and it’s not hard to see why when it gives you so much to work with right from the off.
The dialogue continues to be on point here, and we’re given another one of Tom Baker’s iconic lines as Doctor Who;
Doctor Who: ‘You know, you’re a classic example of the inverse ratio between the size of the mouth and the size of the brain.’
I could quote lots of Baker’s other dialogue from this one (I’m particularly fond of his response when his proffered Jelly Babies are smacked from his hand and sent flying — ‘a simple no thank you would have been sufficient...’), but I think it’s Leela who really shines through the dialogue here. Of course it was Boucher who introduced the character in the last story, so I feel like he’s already got a real handle on her character, but this episode introduces a wonderful streak of sarcasm, which regular readers will know I adore in a companion. I’ve been weighing up which example to use from three that I’ve written down, but I honestly can’t decide so I’m going to give them all to you;
Uvanov: ‘That is a single function labour robot, D class. D for dumb. It can’t speak.’
Leela: ‘Has anyone told him that?’Uvanov: ‘Can you think of any good reason why I should not have you executed on the spot?’
Leela: ‘No, but you can, otherwise you’d have done it.’Poul: ‘You must be stronger than you look.’
Leela: ‘You must be stupider than you look if you think I did that.’
There’s so much to love here, but it doesn’t quite hit the heights of a perfect ten for me. There’s a few too many little moments that just niggle at me that bit too much. It largely comes down to the moment where Doctor Who and Leela are locked up, restrained by clamps around their waists and necks. It’s noted how convenient it is that their arms are left free, and you assume Doctor Who is going to reach for the Sonic Screwdriver (which we know he has on him because he used it in Part One), but no. And then we’re told how solid the clamps are;
Leela: ‘These metal straps, they won’t budge.’
Doctor Who: ‘Of course not.’
Leela: ‘The robots bent them as though they were leather.’
Doctor Who: ‘Yes, then locked the molecular structure. The result’s bands as
solid as cast iron.’
Which would be all well and good, but this is the only example of the design falling apart a little, because the material they’ve used is the flimsiest looking thing in the world! They move every time Baker or Louise Jameson moves even slightly, which does rather spoil the effect.
All the same, I think I’m going with another 9/10 here. It feels like an episode which absolutely shouldn’t work, filled with bizarre design and ambitions ideas, but somehow everything pulls together into a bit of a masterpiece.
Oh, and we get another instance of the Fourth Doctor Who quoting Shakespeare here when a line from Macbeth crops up — ‘by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes’ — but I’m wondering whether it’s a deliberate attempt to bring back the Shakespeare quotes, or a chance to sneakily slip the title of an Agatha Christie book into the story…
