MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD

When I first became aware that some episodes of Doctor Who didn’t exist, it was when my Dad bought me the VHS of The Tomb of the Cybermen in 1992. At the top of the case was a strapline reading: MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD. RETURNED TO BBC VIDEO AFTER OVER 20 YEARS! I was seven. It didn’t upset me too much me at the time, as the black and white stories I never felt were as engaging as those in colour, despite loving Tomb and even at that age spotting the vast gulf of difference in quality between it and The Twin Dilemma (the other Easter present)! I adored the Peter Cushing Dalek films but felt nothing for their fuzzy TV counterparts. There was also so much Doctor Who that I’d never seen before that a few more episodes couldn’t make that much of a difference. I am now so, so thankful that we have Tomb. It’s an icon. But in 1992, it was just another story I hadn’t seen.

It was in my teens that missing episodes became important to me, specifically with the release of The Ice Warriors Collection in 1998. How I loved those four snowy instalments! I even enjoyed the recon, perhaps still the most cleverly handled recreation of missing footage (and that includes the animations). What I remember most vividly though was reading the inner booklet and realising that the documentary The Missing Years would include footage from The Smugglers, Fury from the Deep, The Highlanders and The Macra Terror. I had never realised clips existed from these ancient tomes and the experience of watching them for the first time was astonishing. Fury looked to be the most frightening Doctor Who story ever made. The Smugglers looked like the sort of spooky Dickensian yarn that would have scared me as a younger child. I had loved listening to the Colin Baker-narrated cassettes of The Macra Terror when I was growing up and putting pictures to the soundtrack was extraordinarily exciting. The fact that clips existed from stories I never thought I’d see was a revelation.

From that point on, missing Doctor Who became a vital interest. Ian Levine had stated quite definitively on The Missing Years that there would always be 108 missing episodes. So when The Lion was found the following year, I was over the moon and that giant, green boxset became one of my Favourite Things Ever. In 2003, shortly after the announcement of the new series, it was revealed that Day of Armageddon had been discovered too. I was at college in an IT lesson when I found out, casually browsing the internet. I cried. In front of my mates who shrugged and got on with their much richer lives. I had a stronger reaction to Day of Armageddon than the news that the real deal was coming back to TV. (After all, something would probably go wrong there.)

And that was that. I never even considered another discovery. Doctor Who’s Missing Years amounted to two moments of euphoria for me, never to be repeated. And I was actually sort of fine with that. Because since Ian Levine’s statement, I’d sort of given up hope.

Then came 2011. I was driving to work when then newsreader told the world that two Doctor Who episodes had been found after being lost in time for decades. “Which ones??!!” I screamed at the radio, but it was no use. She wasn’t for telling. I raced dangerously into work and threw myself at a computer. Oh. The Underwater Menace 2 and Galaxy 4: Air Lock. Well, I could sort of understand why the newsreader hadn’t mentioned which ones. They were hardly fan favourites. In fact, to be blunt, they were the dregs. But I wasn’t deflated. I was excited to see Galaxy 4, there being no telesnaps. This had to yield some surprises. And I was in a minority in that I really loved Underwater Menace 3 and so I was looking forward to seeing Part 2, even though it’s the first and last bloody episodes that are the most visually arresting!

But this time, I didn’t think that was it. Nobody did. Because what probably started as a lovely idea: “Let’s announce it at the BFI and let people see it immediately!” had become six months of secret-keeping. And the horrible thing about secrets is, you don’t know who’s got them. Now, we fans were no longer wondering where the episodes might be, but who might know about them. And that was awful, because the crime of these stories being missing didn’t equate to human error any more but to human secrecy.

Philip Morris appeared on The Reign of Terror DVD commentary to talk about his search for Doctor Who long before his anniversary announcement. I wondered why on Earth he was there and deduced that he must have found some Who he wasn’t telling us about, especially with that last comment as the credits role: “Which would I most like to find? What an interesting question.” As if he hadn’t expected that one to come up! In July 2013, I was told that Enemy and Web were back at the BBC but that it was being kept under wraps and there could be more to come. I waited 3 months before an announcement was made, and again, that was after a long period of secrecy. In the end, I was deflated. I couldn’t believe Web still had an episode missing! But to see these stories was of course, a great joy. In the intervening years, I’d heard the CD soundtracks so often, I knew Enemy was a belter and I was surprised in that Web was even better than I thought it would be and absolutely lived up to that first spectacular episode.

However, what was once a tantalising hope – that one day I might get to see these beautiful programmes, that they’d turn up in a loft or a vault somewhere – has now become an irritation. Why does Philip Morris keep alluding to more finds and refusing to deny that he has any more? Why does he remain so irritatingly optimistic if he has nothing? The protracted way in which Enemy and Web were returned means that there could be stuff sitting at the BBC which we don’t know about at any given point. Bluntly, I’d much rather he admit he has nothing than keep us hanging. It’s worse than not knowing if anything exists; it’s not knowing what Phil is playing at. In the old days, the episodes either existed or they didn’t. Now, we have to wait for someone to tell us that they exist or not. It’s bloody infuriating that a group of individuals would keep their secrets for such a long time. Surely, any fan would like to be told that episodes are back, being worked on and will be released soon, rather than be kept in the dark? 

However, hope remains. And it’s a nagging, horrible feeling! But it’s there!

Episodes I’d still love to see include:

·         All of The Massacre – I think it’s a masterpiece.

·         Fury from the Deep Parts 2 and 4 – the creepiest ones with major set-pieces: the Hariss household and the trip down the pipeline. I can do without the helicopter stuff later on!

·         The Abominable Snowmen Parts 1 and 6 – the beginning and the end. I’d love to see Padmasambhava and the first episode is a tense and wild affair! 

·         Anything from The Daleks’ Master Plan – it jumps around from episode to episode and there are no telesnaps to offer even a clue as to how some of it may have looked!

·         The Savages Part 3 – For Freddie Jaeger’s Hartnell impression.

·         The Wheel in Space Part 1 – It’s a weird, trippy, mental thing.

·         Evil 1 – A contemporary 60s episode.

·         The Macra Terror – Cos it’s bloody amazing.

Of course, any discovery would be most welcome. Strangely, given the animations, I’m less inclined to vote for those stories (Power, Invasion, Moonbase, etc) in a list of Most Wanted, already having very watchable versions to hand. But imagine the delight in getting to see Troughton’s first steps as the Doctor or Hartnell’s last. Even yet, these unknown treasures feel like magical totems. And the hope does remain. Please, Phil, do the right thing: either pull your finger out and share or tell us you’ve got nothing. It’d be much easier to bear. Here’s still hoping, one day soon…

JH