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