Sunday 14 October 2018

Guest Stars #1: Philip Madoc

One of the greatnesses of both Classic and Nu-Who is the vast theatre of actors it employs in its guest spots. As Philip Hinchcliffe once ruminated: actors could rock up and “do a turn” as usually, Doctor Who afforded them a part slightly bigger than in other shows. Of course, there are several types of guest actor: the professional corker (Julian Glover; William Gaunt; Derek Jacobi), the ham-fisted joy (Michael Cochrane; Ian Cuthbertson; Mark Costigan), the would-be-extra (Prentis Hancock; Terry Walsh; Jimmy Vee) and the purely dreadful (Rick James; Jenny Laird; Mark Oliver). Best is the moment when a guest performer turns up purely for shits and giggles. For some bewildering actors, Doctor Who is quite clearly below them and they are required to turn up, lark about and get back to the pub where the next pint is already waiting. I love how John Savident has clearly failed to learn his lines well enough for his brief appearance in The Visitation. Regardless, he ploughs on confidently, coughing elaborately to give himself more thinking time. It’s the most beautiful, grandest folly: “Eeeeurgh eeeeuuuur, I don’t like the sound of it.” Some of my favourite actors make the universe of Doctor Who so much richer and funnier a place to live. In the first of an ongoing series, I’m going to celebrate a particular guest star’s performance or performances in the show to hopeful amusement and to give them the column inches they deserve.

This month: Philip Madoc
Philip Madoc was one of the great champions of Doctor Who in our house, growing up. Right now, one of my brothers is loving him in The Life and Times of David Lloyd George. Another brother is loving him in Last of the Mohicans. Another, along with me, is loving him in Doctor Who. Yes, we happy four, we band of brothers form a small but vocal Philip Madoc fan club. I am even the proud owner of a BBC poetry CD in which Madoc recites the great works of Chaucer in Medieval English. Oh, what a treat that it.
He cheers up Daleks’ Invasion Earth 2150AD no end just as it’s in danger of becoming stale. The camera loves him: it lingers on him as he smiles cheekily before dragging on his spitty little fag, teeth pearly white, hair brill-creamed back and dressed like Columbo. His resolute lack of emotion - be that joy, callousness, envy, hatred (take your pick from the entire gamut) - as he kicks over Peter Cushing’s potential breakfast is priceless. Like his character, Madoc is one on his own here, seemingly refusing to integrate with the rest of the cast. When that shed explodes with him in it, so does a little part of that film’s beauty. 
In The Krotons, he is a portly, little thing, angry and taut. Truncated by a costume that would leave Daniel Craig looking awkward, it’s amazing that Madoc gets to the end of The Krotons with any dignity at all. Nobody else does, apart from perhaps Patrick Troughton and even he suffers a fish-eye close up of his elaborate chin. Madoc begins proceedings like a pantomime page boy, one foot jauntily angled towards the irritatingly bad James Copeland, presumably to put him off his dull speech. Madoc waits for Copeland to carry on about his “companyons of the Krotons,” lets him to finish, then gives a tiny, embarrassed, knowing nod before administering some gowns. It’s as if he’s aware how bad Copeland is and he’s on our side. He knows we’re finding it just as excruciating as he is. Madoc decides to duck Episode Two but returns in full force in Episode Three, delivering banal speeches about “a little more time” as if he’s giving us his Hamlet or even his Magua, dressed as he is, tomahawk by his waist. Here is a man whose slings and fireballs are in no doubt.
Quite miraculously, by the time The War Games comes along only a few months later, Madoc has completely transformed his physical frame. He is slimmer, shorter, lizard-like and alert, like a meerkat wearing googly eyes. He moves very little, only twitches of his head and widening eyes conveying his threat, which dazzlingly is tangible and felt (especially compared to the louder, more brash, less effective menace of the War and Security Chiefs). He seems to be doing so little and yet here is a fully-formed instantly believable and deeply sinister villain. When Madoc enters the fray in Episode Seven, The War Games gets a hell of a lot more interesting. His terror when looking to the heavens at the close of Episode Nine and muttering, “They are coming” is terrifically unsettling.
A few regenerations later, Madoc is back for The Brain of Morbius, perhaps his tour de force. Madoc plays Professor Solon archly, a definite twinkle spicing up his more banal lines. “Noooooo, that won’t do,” he whines early on before tersely snapping, “That is an insect!” His ability to bring life into the most melodramatic, sometimes clumsy line is incredible. “You’ve been looking for that arm again, haven’t you?” he murmurs at his one-armed bandit, Condo. The delightfulness of this ridiculously clunky moment is that Madoc carries it off with aplomb. Water off a duck’s back to him is this kind of awkward scripting blunder. As the Doctor arrives, Madoc breezes through his “What a magnificent head,” with an unusually ordinary and sharp relish. He never seems to realise, despite the Doctor and Sarah’s bemused looks, that he comes across as completely barking. It’s Madoc’s knowing ignorance that is the adorable charm of Professor Solon. 
His final appearance in The Power of Kroll may be the poorest part bestowed to this paragon of the acting world but his obvious disdain for the job shines through blissfully. “God, Philip looks bored, doesn’t he?” says Tom Baker on the DVD commentary and it’s true. Madoc’s face is a picture of bulldog apathy, his jowls forever curled downwards, his lines mumbled and without energy. “You know, I don’t particularly like the Swampies, but I can’t say I really hate them,” he snarks with all the commitment of a disaffected music teacher. It’s Fenner’s best line.
Now, you might be forgiven for thinking that the end of Philip Madoc’s Who career but it was to continue into the DVD range as well as a couple of Big Finish Productions. Notably though, his hour came in: Philip Madoc: A Villain for All Seasons. Orange faced and sporting a white beard, he appears to have regenerated again into a short Tom Jones with better teeth. A one-man interview show, Madoc is given his opportunity to shine once more and shine he does. He greets us with pearls of wisdom. “Peter Cushing was a true gentleman, one of the nicest human beings I have ever known.” His wilful glee when promoting the idea of the return of the War Lord is hilarious. “I wasn’t killed. I was dematerialised.” Long pause. “I like that idea,” and he smiles hugely. Of Fenner he states contemptuously, “He wasn’t coming from anywhere and he wasn’t going anywhere.” But in the end, for a man with a rich and varied career, he is charm incarnate: “I can’t say I hate you for only remembering me in these three or four shows.” He then reminds us of what we already knew. “They’re not bad shows. In fact, there are some very, very good shows.” Thanks Philip.
JH

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