Big Finish@20: An Interview with Hylton Collins

Hylton Collins is a Northern-based actor famous for roles in Emmerdale, The Bill, the latest incarnations of Porridge and The League of Gentlemen, and is associated with Big Finish in the very early days of their audio productions. He appeared in Whispers of Terror and Red Dawn, before helping to usher in the Eighth Doctor with performances in Storm Warning, Sword of Orion and Minuet in Hell and finally appearing with Sylvester McCoy in Return of the Daleks. He’s been a friend of mine for almost twenty years – we’ve produced shows together - and with Big Finish approaching their own 20^th anniversary, it felt like the opportune time to look back at those early days when the company were just starting out, the production factory that they were to become possibly only a Jason Haigh-Ellery pipe dream.

I meet Hylton at his home in Rochdale. I arrive at 10am thinking I’ll be home for lunch. Seven hours later, I apologetically text my wife to say I’m setting off. Hylton and I love to wax lyrical about Doctor Who. And a walk down memory lane only elicits more and more conversation. Enjoy!

JH: If we think about 1998, which is just before we met one another, what was it like being a Doctor Who fan?

HC: 1998. Gosh. Paul McGann’s movie had just been on. I had a circle of friends that were Doctor Who fans. The books were coming out a rate of knots. There were so many. We’d kind of accepted that that was it for TV Doctor Who.

JH: Was it a happier time than before the film?

HC: Mmmm. Gosh. Possibly in the fact that we’d come to accept it. Certainly, I’d come to accept it. They’d had a go at it: The McGann movie was a surprise. You know, a pleasant surprise that happened but came and went. And we’d already got around to the point of thinking it wasn’t coming back anyway. The film was a bonus. There was plenty of merchandise out there to keep us happy. They were coming to an end of the VHS range. The DVDs were about to start. There was a lot on the market. So I suppose so, in that respect yeah. [It was happier.]

JH: I started buying the magazine again when they released it with that cover-mounted CD.

HC: Talking ‘Bout My Regeneration? I’ve found that recently!

JH: That was the first regular issue that I’d bought with my own money. My Dad had bought them for me when I was younger. But the new logo was on the front: it was the first magazine with the McGann logo on it. And it had the announcement that Big Finish were making new Doctor Who inside. That was ’99 and that news, coming off an essential drought, was massive. That felt like: New Doctor Who is going to be made and it’s going to have the real Doctor Who in it! 

HC: Do you know what, I remember the announcement and the excitement and thinking, “Ooh, is there any chance of getting a job on this?” Because Doctor Who had just finished on TV the year I graduated! There’s timing for you! Ha! So I was wondering what the chances were and I was looking at it from a professional perspective and a fan perspective. There’d been a few audios on the market before that: Adventures in a Pocket Universe, K9, Bernice, Ghosts of N-Space, the BBV stuff. So from various sources there’d been audio Doctor Who.

JH: It felt to me essentially though as if fans were making it for themselves. The BBC weren’t gonna do it so we’d do it ourselves. 

HC: Yeah, and there’d been VHS projects as well, hadn’t there. 

JH: When Benny, Lisa Bowerman, tells us about going down to a damp cellar with a mic hanging from the ceiling, that supports the idea that this really was fans saying, “We’ve got a machine. We can make our own Doctor Who.” So when you recorded Whispers of Terror, did it have that sort of homegrown feel to it? We’re quite used to seeing Big Finish now recording actors in separate booths so they can be edited. Back then, we were seeing people grouped around an old-fashioned radio mic. 

HC: I’ve got to say, it didn’t actually feel like a fan production. It felt like a professional venture. I don’t think I could have envisaged how long it was going to go on but at the time it actually felt really professional. It was a job and it was a nice recording studio. It felt like the start of something new to be honest. It felt professional, you know. There were some old pros there and everyone had come to do a job. There was a green room and it felt more professional than simply a group of fans. 

JH: Well, you had Peter Miles, Colin and Nicola, Lisa Bowerman. What was the atmosphere like in the green room, it being only the third release, so early on?

HC: It was good, it was interesting. It was a Sunday and really sunny! It was really early days, wasn’t it! July or August at the latest. My agent had decided – she didn’t get me the job; it was a friend who got me the job! – that she was going to have a day out in London and drove me down! Madness, I know! She drove me down early on to the studio and I remember seeing Nick Briggs hovering outside. I didn’t know him at the time and I don’t think he stayed for too much of the recording but he was there.

JH: Gary Russell directed, right?

HC: I’d met Gary briefly. He was a friend of a friend. We’d said hello in passing. It was kind of straight in though. We’d spoken on the phone when he offered me the part and I arrived on the second day of recording. So most people had already got together. I was straight in. I went into the recording booth to say hello to Gary and let him know I was there and Colin was already sat there doing a bit. He asked how I’d got down and when I said my agent had given me a lift he said, “Oh, very grand!” But it was straight into the recording. There was a bit of green room chat. It was all very professional, very pleasant and lasted the one day. Peter Miles was very quiet at the time. We became good friends later on various other projects but he was quiet and focussed. Everyone wanted to do a good job. It’s held in quite high regard that story, isn’t it?

JH: I love it and I think it was the first one to get a really strong review in the magazine. It’s a Doctor Who story that can only be told on audio. It feels like it’s about sound. There’s a character in it who isn’t there because Peter Miles is blind and can only hear his voice. But it was tremendous, Whispers of Terror. Colin’s Doctor in it is very much the Doctor of Season 22 – abrasive, slightly irritating for the guest characters, correcting their grammar. He’s a slightly brasher Colin than the one we expect now from Big Finish. But I remember Gary Russell saying at the time that at the end of the recording, Colin said, “Right, we’ve done that now. Can we start fleshing out the Doctor I always wanted to play on television?” What was Colin like to work with?

HC: Great. I’ve always thought Colin had a really rough deal on Doctor Who. I’m a big fan of his era. I know that’s quite controversial. I do like his stories. I do like his era. I’d met Colin briefly in the past at various Doctor Who events cos we come from the same hometown – Rochdale – and he’d always been utterly charming. A very nice guy. And I wish he’d had more time on TV. It’s great that Big Finish have run with him. And with other characters like Bonnie Langford’s Mel. That was another great missed opportunity on television. There is the thing in the business where people, audiences, and the whole profession as well, cause actors to be typecast. I can’t remember who it was but I’ve just heard an interview with one of the directors of the Just William TV series who said Bonnie was amazing. She turned up to rehearsals knowing everything, her lines, her moves, and was distraught if she ever missed her mark or whatever. I was so pleased recently when she was cast in EastEnders. I’d been saying for years, “I wish some casting director would have the imagination to cast her in something really gritty and let people see that there is so much more to her than Just William.” Whoever cast her, all credit to them. I’ve never had the pleasure of working with her. It would be so nice! I’m just glad Big Finish have used her so much!

JH: So you finish Whispers of Terror and you’re cast as an Ice Warrior?

HC: That was the easiest job I ever got! We’d gone to the launch party for the CDs in London and I think they had Phantasmagoria out and they’d recorded The Land of the Dead. I’d not seen the cover for Whispers. But I’d heard they were doing an Ice Warrior story. And I thought they’d go for Sonny Caldinez, Alan Bennion or another big name for that part. Although someone told me it was Barry Letts who dubbed Sonny back in the 70s! But I asked Gary at the party. I said, “I’ve heard you’re doing an Ice Warrior story and I would love to be considered. I understand that you’ll be going for a name but I’d love to be considered.” And he said, “OK. The part’s yours.” I stopped and thought, “No, it doesn’t work like that. You’re supposed to tell me you’ll call me for an audition and let me know.” But he was like, “No, I know what you can do and what you’re capable of. I’ll call you nearer the time.” Matthew Brenher had been in Whispers of Terror and it was nice to see a familiar face because the rest of the cast, apart from Nicola Bryant, were all different.

JH: You had Peter Davison and Georgia Moffett, the Doctor and his fictional and real-life daughter! So how was working with Peter?

HC: Yeah, cool. It’s really heads down and get on with the work though. There were two days recording on Red Dawn but his wife was around and they went off for lunch together. But it was nice and very professional and we just got on with it. Any chat was in the green room. It was two days in November and there were some visitors from America who had come across to watch the recording. They were in the booth with the engineer. Obviously, there was pressure in playing such an iconic monster. You’re thinking, “Get it right! Get it right!” But we had these people in the booth saying, “Oh my God! The Ice Warriors are back!” And that was nice, thinking, “Ooh, we’ve obviously done it right,” because they sounded so excited. It was a really nice moment to be proud of. They were over the moon.

JH: So about the time that Red Dawn came out was probably about the time that the world learned that Paul McGann was coming back. But you already knew all about that!

HC: Yeah, that was funny. I’d rung Gary Russell around April to ask for work. He said they were well recorded up and Colin was on tour so there wouldn’t be anything for a while. But a week later, there was a message on my answer phone asking me to call him back. He asked if I could go down to Bristol the following week for the full seven days. I asked him what it was and he said, “You can’t tell anyone this but we’ve managed to secure Paul McGann!” No way! No way! That was big news back then. That was massive. 

JH: It felt to me, a teenage fan, like: This is it. This is New Doctor Who. In its own way, it was just as exciting as Rose. 

HC: Yeah, absolutely. Working on it, it felt like that. We had a full week. The first two scripts came through and it was so secretive. And I do have a lot of friends who were Doctor Who fans. I think I told my family - who wouldn’t have gone out telling everyone - and my agent. And that was it. I remember going down and recording it. I think Paul McGann had been doing a TV series at the time. A mate who was a Doctor Who fan said, “He’s back on telly! If we’re lucky he’ll end up doing Doctor Who with Big Finish!” And me and my agent looked at each other as if to say, “If only you knew where we’ve been!” When I said I’d been to Bristol, everyone just assumed I’d been doing Casualty. Ha!

JH: I think those first four scripts – Storm Warning, Sword of Orion, The Stones of Venice and Minuet in Hell – are massively under-rated. I think they’re great. All four are quite markedly different from one another and they tell big movie poster narratives. But they never seem to top polls. Sword of Orion got a scathing review in DWM, the last line being, “Get a script editor, lads!” The Stones of Venice gets forgotten about but it’s quite beautiful. Minuet in Hell is considered one of the very worst excesses of Big Finish but I think it’s great. It gets hauled over the coals for its American accents, I think.

HC: Well Robert Jezek is Canadian and it’s got Morgan Deare in it! 

JH: I know! It’s a really rich, weird and very new feeling Doctor Who. It’s as if the Brigadier is living in the modern age as it was then. He’s using the internet. He’s saying things like dot org. It feels very current.

HC: If they were to bring the series back on TV, it would have been a great starting point. If you didn’t know who the Doctor was, it would have been that thing of having to guess which of the two actors was playing the Doctor. They could reveal it at the very end of the episode! It would have been a great opening for a new Doctor. I remember the imagery, trying to get it in my head. It was recorded at the end of the week.

JH: I think it’s written in The Inside Story that Toby Longworth said suddenly, “Of course, you know I’m not here tomorrow.” And buggered off! Did you have to read in any lines?

HC: Yes I think I was only playing an orderley in that and maybe a demon. I remember doing a short demon monologue so as I had time on my hands, I suggested I could try out for the part that Toby had just vacated. I did a try out but just couldn't hit the right pitch and tone they wanted. They were looking for Sheriff J W Pepper from the Bond films and I just couldn’t reach that pitch. So I read in at the recording and they dubbed it. 

JH: Did you have a favourite? 

HC: I think probably because it’s so different to my own voice: Storm Warning. I remember having the voice in my head from reading the script for the first time but when I turned up, I heard how Gareth Thomas was playing Lord Tamworth and thought, “Oh, that’s how I was going to do the Chief Steward.” He had the same vocal tone. I thought, “I’m going to have to find something different now.” Gary said what I did reminded him of Barbara from The League of Gentlemen! One of the contemporary reviews said I had “rich, Derbyshire tones” but I didn’t realise I was doing Derbyshire! It was conjured up from thin air!

JH: Some time later, you came back for Return of the Daleks. 

HC: Yeah, Sylvester McCoy was in Manchester as part of a tour, so it was recorded up here. John Ainsworth who was directing came to a mate of mine and asked if he knew any regional actors and he put me forward. It was nice because I hadn’t seen Nick for ages; he’d directed some of the McGanns in Bristol. He’d started work on the TV show too because it was back. He had loads of on-set stories! It’s always nice to hear his backstage gossip! I wasn’t supposed to be doing the Ogrons but that morning, Nick said, “Oh, you know what an Ogron sounds like, don’t you, Hylton?” And I ended up doing them as well! As well as another monster, it was nice to tick off another Doctor, getting to work with Sylvester!

JH: Is it cheeky to ask if you have a favourite Doctor to work with?

HC: Ha! Now you know why Nick Courtney said, “Splendid chaps, all of them!” I’ve always thought Colin was a true gent and because we have that Rochdale thing and a lot in common, I’d have to say Colin. I do like his stuff and he’s always so charming. But I would love the chance to work with Tom! It would be a dream come true! And most of his stories involve John Leeson who I’ve worked with elsewhere on stage and in film. It’d be so nice to work with Tom and complete the set!

JH: This month, May 2019, Big Finish are releasing 4 episodes with Sylvester McCoy, 3 episodes with David Tennant, 8 episodes with the Third Doctor, a Sixth Doctor Short Trip, a Torchwood with Margaret Slitheen. Did you envisage that Big Finish would become such a juggernaut of audio drama production?

HC: No. And that’s no reflection on Doctor Who. I thought to produce one CD a month required such a large amount of work. And in the year 2000 it was great to receive a CD through the post once a month. 12 four-part adventures a year was better than anything we’d ever had before. And when the TV show was announced, I remember feeling quite sad, thinking, “This is the end. The TV show will probably overtake them.” I mean, it’s great that they’ve managed to continue for so long and I’m sure that’s thanks to Russell T Davies making sure they kept the license.

JH: Given the vast output, it’s incredible that the standards have not only been maintained but arguably improved!

HC: It’s great that they’re selling so vastly, and that new people are still coming to it. They decide that for whatever reason they want more Doctor Who and they’re coming along saying, “Where do I start?” It’s still really popular and they’re still getting loads of new listeners. I think - because there’s so, so much - that newcomers might have to search for some of the hidden gems. They might not necessarily know which ones feel like pure, unadulterated Doctor Who if they’re just going for famous monsters or whatever.

JH: If you were to recommend five then that new listeners could jump into, what would they be?

HC: I’d have to have them all spread out to choose! I dunno, one that immediately springs to mind is The Spectre of Lanyon Moor. I think it’s so atmospheric and it finally gets the Brig and the Sixth Doctor together. I suppose it’s rather obvious but The Chimes of Midnight is a great one. It’s Christmassy and just so frightening. Spare Parts is another predictable choice, but it’s Christmas again (Ha!), it’s horrible and the Cybermen voices work really well. It’s so easy to visualise. Oh, Holy Terror: Another classic I haven’t listened to for a while! That’s a great performance from Sam Kelly. There’s just so much! I really enjoyed recently the Tom Baker Comic Strips box set. There are so many Toms! His latest boxes: the Masterplan sequel. I like what they did with Ann Kelso. It would be nice to work with Jane Slavin at some point as we had the same drama teacher many years ago. The Virgin Missing Stories: The English Way of Death and The Romance of Crime. They were great. The Mary Tamm season – The Auntie Matter in particular. Any of the Lucie Millers: Brave New Town; the spiders ones! And I really enjoyed the Sarah Jane series. I thought they were really good. I don’t know why they changed the theme tune but I really liked those! The last one of Series 2 came out just as School Reunion went out and I remember thinking, “There’s Elisabeth Sladen: breaking our hearts on TV and on audio at the same time!”

JH

Learning to Love: The Time Monster

I recently read through a thread on Gallifrey Base about The Time Monster, the opening poster asking, “What’s wrong with it?” It was met by a great swathe of Time Monster supporters (or should that be apologists?) listing the myriad perks of this apparently under-rated gem. Many opined that it was their favourite of Season 9. Even Graham Duff is of the same Time Monster persuasion on the DVD commentary. (What, better than Day of the Daleks? Better than The Sea Devils? Heck, better than The Mutants?!) Now I love Gallifrey Base. It gets a bad rep elsewhere online occasionally but the conversations there are fervently intelligent, passionate and often beautifully well-articulated. Its existence shouldn’t be taken for granted: the place is a joy. But seriously – The Time Monster?!

Thus, I embarked on the six-episode trip of a lifetime. I’ve already sat through these hours of television several times and never managed a second go immediately. It’s the sort of tale about which I always think, “Was I right? Was I in a bad mood? Was it really so dreary?” And I always finish the story thinking, “Yes, I was right.” And so in the tradition of these Learning to Love articles I attempted to find something in The Time Monster to enjoy. Strap yourselves in – these six episodes can be a slog.

But that opening sequence on film is glorious! Roger Delgado’s supreme Master - the very thing of nightmares to this most assured and confident of Doctors - lauds it over him, the camera shooting up at the man in black, making him yet more loomingly powerful. Like the Wicked Witch of the West, he disappears in a bolt of lightning. Watching Pertwee wake from his sleep terrified is surely the set-up for a thrill ride of an adventure: perhaps a definitive meeting between the Time Lord nemeses. Unfortunately, we’re in largely for a knock-off version of The Daemons which removes all the atmosphere which made that story good; and everything that killed its pace and made it feel twee is turned up to eleven. Within twenty minutes, Bessie is doing stupid things to Dudley Simpson’s at times excruciating synthetic jabbing. Ruth Ingram and Stuart Hyde are charmless and annoying, with Ingram’s misjudged right-on feminist spiel thankfully and perhaps miraculously not the natural antecedent to Sarah Jane Smith. What’s most glaring though is the bleached-out, drab, pallid look of the whole thing. It’s boringly designed, boringly costumed and badly lit and the NTSC conversion makes the experience even more gruelling on the eye. Thankfully though, within this pasty, grey-beige mire, there’s Roger Delgado’s Greek accent, Nicholas Courtney saying “TOMTIT” with a blisteringly funny Wildean earnest and Jon Pertwee and Katy Manning being the very opposite of Ingram and Hyde in their charm qualifications.

Episode Two is irritating and without it, the whole show might well hold up rather better. Here, we get an entire instalment in which the writers – Robert Sloman and Barry Letts - deliberately refuse to allow the plot to make progress. The Master, for a second time, wails, “Come Kronos, come!” only for Kronos to yet again fail to put in an appearance and sadly you can tell Delgado’s heart’s not quite as in it on this occasion, he too feeling as if he’s treading water. Ingram and Hyde talk about physics for a long time and re-do the experiments they re-did in Episode One and Hyde is aged – but don’t worry, he’ll be fine in an episode or two and nobody will even remark upon it. This repetition makes it all the more improbable and ridiculous that the Doctor and the Master don’t meet one another, despite being in the very same building.

Much better does thankfully arrive. When a knight in shining armour appears in a pulling of focus, things look like they might be about to get exciting. The Episode Three cliff-hanger is, for the first time in the story, tense and almost manages to be edge-of-the-seat. Kronos itself, sneered at for years by fandom and apologised for by Barry Letts in the DVD documentary, doesn’t look half bad all told. His appearance through the crystal, cross-fading with a real bird fluttering its wings angrily, is an acute, violent image and to his credit, director Paul Leonard shoots the rubberman himself with restraint. Kronos’s legs flying around the lab don’t look quite as ridiculous as they might when one imagines the height of its unseen ceiling, meaning Kirby wires are logically out. The camera glare adds a strangeness to the chronovore’s appearance and there is a genuine sense that this is a creature from outside our realm.

When we reach The Two TARDISes episode, events stagnate again and whilst champions have insisted Delgado’s coccyx line is one of utmost charm, I must admit to finding it irritating, repetitious and above all, bloody stupid. There are moments when Doctor Who’s comedy is ridiculously funny and when its comedy transcends most comedy shows of the time, but here we’re in gags-without-punchlines territory. Sloman and Letts are no Croft and Perry. Heck, they’re not even Hale and Pace. I feel like an utter killjoy railing at a moment so beloved by fandom, but I just don’t get it. The word coccyx itself is only really funny because it sounds like cock. And Katy Manning’s delivery of “My what?” tells us that’s exactly what Jo’s thinking too. Naughty girl.

When we reach Atlantis, things do pucker up again. Suddenly, we’ve got sets which look like somebody enjoyed making. The cyclorama backdrops are beautifully painted, giving much-needed depth and there is a sense that, despite the lack of water, we really might be in Atlantis. This is especially refreshing for the Third Doctor who was up to this point - three years in - a stranger to history. In his chequered red coat, he fits snugly into this world of high courts just as well as he did on Peladon. And the Lady Jo Jo Grant looks especially hip in the latest Atlantean togs.

Sadly, George Cormack gives a cloyingly pleasant-natured turn as King Dalios. He exudes a tiresome goodness more irritating than even Ingrid Pitt’s What-The-Hell-Is-She-Doing? acting. It’s Roger Delgado who is able to steal the show here, turning on the charm and convincing us that this might just be the first time the Master wants a wife. You just wish that after failing to hypnotise Dalios, he’d killed the smug, little angel in his sleep. Also worthy of a facepalm is Aidan Murphy’s Hippias, a man acting in a constant state of wedgie. Once the two of them are offed at the start of Episode Six, the story can really come to life.

Because after five frustrating episodes, it is the last instalment in which The Time Monster really delivers. We open with Pertwee playing troubadour valiantly and camply in equal measure, before we get the oft-celebrated diasiest daisy speech. It is not the speech itself that is so beautiful (to be honest, it’s pretty trite), rather the tight two-shot and the look Katy Manning gives him throughout the whole monologue. At the end, there’s an even more important, massively undervalued moment. The Doctor asks her if she’s still scared. “Not as much as I was,” she smiles and we realise what the whole speech was about: he was trying to make her forget the danger and make her happy, even for only a moment. Now, that’s my Doctor, right there.

Later, Atlantis is destroyed in an uncharacteristically strong display of pandemonium. Tens of extras run around the sets as debris and stonemasonry fly about them. Kronos, off-camera, wings flapping and in lens flare, casts shadows across the city, leaving Ingrid Pitt to dry up in her own majestic way. Pertwee slams into that TARDIS prop with such vigour, it’s a small wonder he doesn’t burst out of the back. Then, of course, there follows Delgado overplaying his last scenes wonderfully, Jo’s self-sacrifice (which works rather better here than in The Daemons and makes total sense in the circumstances) and finally baby Benton becoming good, old, big, lumbering, naked JL. What a treat for everyone. And Katy Manning’s thinking about cocks again.

If there’s anything at all of merit in watching The Time Monster, it’s all in Episode Six which feels like a different story entirely and is in its own way quite a remarkable piece of work. Worth the five-episode slog before it? Oh, go on then: definitely. But I’m in no rush to start all over again.

JH

Fanaticism - Making it Work

For a mild obsessive, I can assure any doubters that having a family doesn’t half get in the way of being a good Doctor Who fan. Once, long ago, I’d get home from work, shove a Big Finish CD on and get cooking. Whilst eating my tea, I could have a DVD extra playing and save the episodes themselves – still the ultimate treasure – for late evening. I’d often get in bed, headphones on and drift into blissful oblivion to a Companion Chronicle. Oh, how times change!

I must be one of the very few people to welcome DWM’s lately reduced wordcount: it allows me to manage almost half of the articles each month. I’m also grateful for the four-month gaps between blu ray box sets and the yearly ones between steelbooks. As for actual books, it’s taken three months to manage 46 pages of Scratchman. 

My Big Finish intake was in danger of becoming an impossibility, but I’ve cunningly devised a plan with several non-Who bonuses to boot, meaning I can get in over 30 hours of listening per month. I work in a school precisely four miles from my house. It’s an unforgivably long 50-minute bus journey away and it costs £17 a week. Recently, I got myself an android phone. (I’d previously settled with a Neanderthalic Alcatel with push-buttons and everything.) This meant that I was able to listen to Big Finish downloads if I so wished whilst on the move. Now, a four-mile walk to work takes precisely one hour and a Big Finish CD – sans extras – usually lasts precisely one hour, meaning I can now manage two discs a day whilst travelling to work whilst saving £17 a week whilst losing 2lbs of stomach. Frankly, it’s a triple win. 

Before the walking-to-work Masterplan, I had to wait for my daughter’s evening sleep to coincide with my wife’s soap operas, during which I could pull out the headphones and get 25 minutes in. This happened rarely, however, and the backlog was becoming extraordinary. When my daughter’s evening sleep disappeared from her routine entirely, Big Finish listening became all but unfathomable. The walk to work has meant that not only am I managing the latest releases as they arrive but I’m ploughing through Jago & Litefoot and Counter-Measures too. As fans, whatever the circumstances, we can always find a way to make it work!

I’m fully aware that this does indeed appear to be the behaviour of an obsessive with a warped sense of priority but then I think of football fans. The seasoned professional fan spends every Saturday out either at the ground or in a pub. Subscriptions to BT Sport or Sky are paid for monthly and season tickets are paid for in fell swoops at the start of a season. Big games, European or World Cup matches are an added expense, alongside football kits, memorabilia and programmes. This is the behaviour of so-called “normal” people, celebrated by “the lads” but - probably as a result of the guilt-ridden Doctor Who-less 1990s – I wonder if I’m not a little over-reflective about the way I spend my money. Taking into account how much a football fan might spend, a Big Finish subscription, a DWM and a blu ray every few months doesn’t seem all that bad. And I'd only be spending £17 a week on the bus.

What I am sure of, however, is that even though I can bring the Doctor to mind and raise a smile whenever I wish and even though he’s been around for longer than I can remember, I know that when I think of my daughter or my wife or my step-girls, I can feel my heart leap. And I know that if they ever need anything, that Tom Baker blu ray could fetch a few hundred quid, as would that Capaldi steelbook or that 1965 annual or The Well-Mannered War. And I know as well that they’d be the last people to suggest I sell them: my wonderful girls. When they’re all grown up and left us, my wife can watch her soaps in peace and I might finally start reading my Complete History, the 30th birthday present it took her four years to buy for me.

JH

The Macra Terror

There were once no such thing as Macra. Now there are at least four ways to experience their Terror on the new blu ray discs courtesy of BBC Studios. And the Terror is real!

I’d better start with some context: When I was seven, I was bought the Colin Baker narrated double cassette by my Uncle Kev. It was an Andy’s Records store in Oldham. I had The Power and The Evil of the Daleks too but to be honest, my young attention span had always found them a bit of a slog. I never managed to obtain a copy of Fury from the Deep and I’m still irritated about it: how much of my life was spent in ignorance of such a gem! Macra Terror in the meanwhile though was the bees’ knees. I must have listened to it fifty times. I loved the music. I loved that there were scenes I just couldn’t quite visualise. I loved the darkness, the dread, the unsettling feeling of something lurking just beyond the reach of the colonists. In short, I have always loved The Macra Terror and seeing this animated blu ray edition is something of a dream come true. (Though what I wouldn’t give to see the original in all its black and white glory!)

From the off, this animation establishes itself as a very different version of the original. It’s in colour, most obviously, and the opening shots of the empty sets are far more expansive and grander than a 60s studio would have allowed. The outdoor shots are alien and sprawling and don’t quite match the soundtrack which feels very “indoor.” However, where the animation comes into its own is in the depiction of the Macra themselves. Their scuttling is creepy and might unsettle any arachnophobes watching, so spider-like is the movement of their chitinous limbs. For a story with working titles including The Spidermen and The Insect-Men, the way the crab-like beasts are manipulated here in cartoon form feels appropriate and most importantly, frightening. There are minor flaws: Polly’s likeness is off – the excellent original concept art lost somewhere in translation; and the necessary cuts to the soundtrack mean that the TARDIS crew see less of the colony’s utopian ideals to contrast against its darker heart. To see a smartened-up Troughton sadly remains something we can still only imagine. However, the ending works rather better, less abrupt and more of a punctuation mark to round off the story and the pre-titles sets the scene wonderfully for a rip-roaring adventure.

Granted, The Macra Terror cannot be held as the pinnacle of Doctor Who story-telling, although it does become itself a blueprint for a certain type of future Earth-colony story: The Happiness Patrol, Frontios, Gridlock and The Beast Below all set out their stall similarly with societies which don’t feel quite right and in which dark secrets are harboured. Here, though, the idea is very much in its infancy. Sure, there is a definite uncanny feeling of dread for two episodes but in its latter half it becomes obvious that Ian Stuart Black can’t extend his bright idea of a holiday camp gone bad beyond simply an idea. Once the controller is revealed to be the Macra, there’s nothing much left to explore. The third episode treads water: the companions walk down a tunnel and the Doctor does some sums. Without it, perhaps The Macra Terror may be thought of as less generic. A three-act structure: set-up, reveal and overthrowal would be a more fitting form for this quite humble story of small-scale revolution. 

However, the thrills of those first two episodes are there to be gloried in and far overshadow the middling third instalment. Michael Craze is unsettling as an accent-less Ben; the sinister sleeping voices are perfect in terms of audial atmospherics, evoking the similar whispers of Padmasambahva a year later. Episode One is a masterclass in efficiency itself, allowing the Doctor and his TARDIS cohort quick access to the colony and plunging their world into darkness 25 minutes later. A building site seems a strangely innocuous place for the Doctor to encounter the monsters and it brings a very real tangibility to the outlandish perils of this unnamed planet. Most palpably visceral of all though, perhaps predictably, are those Australian censor clips, proving the Aussies of the 60s to be right old killjoys when it comes to the best bits. Re-imagined here, Polly being dragged away by the claws of the Macra is brutal and frightening. The climax to Episode Two - Polly screaming “They’re in control!” - is a shrill, coruscating reminder of why Doctor Who can be ridiculous and terrifying in equal measure.

All told, both the presentation and the tale itself boast many aspects worthy of celebration. Infrequent and very minor blips do not tarnish what is a creepily effective story with many priceless moments to cherish. What a thrill that there are finally such things as Macra! 

JH