By 1976 Doctor Who was in the midst of an
imperial period of distinction with one classic after another being broadcast
and more to come. Yet this story, which debuted Tom Baker’s third season, seems
to have been curiously undervalued at the time. It’s less showy than the rest
of the season and one of the more cultured scripts the original series had thanks
to Louis Marks drawing from his knowledge of the Italian Renaissance. It was
certainly well thought of enough to be given prominence in obituaries when the
writer died in 2010 with The Guardian mentioning “Machiavellian comedy, a
book-burning priest and the musical surnames Rossini and Scarlatti” as
influences the story included.
Part
One: You’ve got
to admire this opening episode for its urgency. My own memory of this story is
a certain low key, slow unfurling but part one turns out to be the opposite. Packed
into an eventful 25 minutes is a lot of material that lays out the parameters
of the story and gives us lots of action. By the end both the Doctor and Sarah
are facing the prospect of gruesome executions, both having been knocked out
(the Doctor twice). There’s some very dangerous Mandragora energy loose in
fifteenth century Italy thanks to the Doctor materialising the Tardis in the
middle of it. Oh and we’ve seen a new console room and met our retinue of
central players.
What will be
the story’s main concern- the emergence of science from superstition and
people’s reactions to it- is introduced by way of the new Duke Giuliano who is
mightily suspicious that his father’s death foretold by hugely bearded seer Hieronymous
was caused by means more earthbound than celestial. He’s having none of Hieronymous’
astrological gobbledegook much to the ire of his scheming uncle Count Frederico
whose favourite “sport” consists of quelling supposed rebellions amongst the
local farming peasants.
So there’s
quite an earthy feel to the episode. Minutes in we see one of those peasants
run through with a sword while the escaped energy leaves victims horribly
charred. Horses, rich costumes and some probably historically accurate shadowy
under lit sets only add to the sense of realism. A shame perhaps that the Helix
energy is depicted by a red sparkler and the inside of the Helix by what look
like bracelets but with so much to pack into the story some corners probably
had to be cut and the way it interacts with the location is more impressive.
It’s the
perfect episode to introduce a Jules Verne like scientific romance of an old
Tardis control room, a set that I’m not sure people cared for much at the time.
Unlike the then traditional brightly illuminated console room this wood panelled version seems more suited to the fourth
Doctor’s style perfectly. One thing I did notice was how up for exploring Sarah
is here yet in the next story she is tired of it all. I suppose being prepared
for sacrifice can do that to you.
Another memory
I had of Masque is that Giuliano was a weak character and I’ve no idea where
that came from because the opposite is true. His boldness in speaking out at a
time when most people would definitely have been in thrall to mystical
prophecies makes him very strong and progressive. Gareth Armstrong is
convincingly idealistic as he challenges the more typically sneering Frederico
and goggle eyed Hieronymous. Both Jon Laurimore and Norman Jones really get
into character for this; the latter especially delivers every melodramatic line
with relish.
I’d
forgotten too that a lot of what develops here is the Doctor’s fault, an idea
that must have been pressing in production office meetings as `The Face of
Evil` was just a couple of stories away. As
a season opener episode 1 is pretty near perfect with the substance of the
rivalries that are both political and philosophical, plenty of jeopardy and
some interesting side shoots such as the Demnos worshippers and Hieronymous’
sense that something else is brewing beyond the intricacies of court politics.
It was watched by 8.3 million viewers with over 9 million tuning in for part 2
and why wouldn’t they? There’s the equivalent of about five cliffhangers going
on and much to intrigue.
Radio Times Part 1:
Part
Two: It’s a good thing
that sacrifice ceremonies are usually drawn out affairs with lots of chanting,
faffing about with symbols like cups, knives, sulphur and poultry by people
wearing cumbersome robes and awkward masks. Otherwise our heroes would never
have enough time to rescue people. Here in the time it takes the Doctor to trip
up his executioner with his scarf, gallop off on a horse, run, hide, find
himself in the catacombs and discover the secret entrance to the temple of
Demnos, the hooded followers still haven’t got round to their sacrifice. Plus
those masks seem to mean they can’t see much allowing the Doctor to sneak in
and pull Sarah away in time. You have to complement Louis Marks on this
sequence. His awareness of Doctor Who
escapes was clearly as sharp as his knowledge of fifteenth century Italy! Not only that, but the travellers have the
opportunity to witness the arrival of the Helix energy.
Visually this is perfect
70s Who fodder- again the lighting is
subtle, the costumes rich and those masks are absolutely perfect. I wonder what
they were based on. It is still a pleasant surprise every time you watch a
story from this era to see the ingenuity of the visual side of things.
In a story that pits
rationality against superstition these elements are refreshingly displayed
amongst the characters. Giuliano’s enthusiastic acceptance of the Doctor’s
explanations is a perfect counterpoint to Frederico’s reliance on killing
people off to stop the “new knowledge” spreading. I’d forgotten the scene in
this episode where we learn a little more about Hieronymous. It would be easy
for him to be portrayed as a one dimensional character but Marks is eager to
show us relatively early in the story what he’s thinking. In some ways he
represents both extremes of the narrative- while he trades in the superstition
of the stars he also seems already aware of a greater calling. The arrival of
the Helix appears to be that moment.
It’s a shame the scene
itself is home to the story’s first clunky dialogue as the voice of Mandragora
(which the Doctor has just told us isn’t really interested in conquering Earth)
goes on about its power working through Hieronymous who will become the planet’s
most powerful being. I like it that the seer’s own prediction appears to have
come true. The look in Norman Jones’ eyes when he removes the helmet and
contemplates his destiny is more effective than the drawn out chat that’s just
happened. No disputing how wonderful it looks though, with a rainbow of colours
and sound effects emphasising the power. This is one of the better part 2s of
this period. Often treading water, the second episode of many a story would
reinstate things from its predecessor while maintaining the mystery. Some of
the type of explanations here would more normally surface in a part 3. We also
see much more of Portmeirion whose narrow steep steps, small arches and hilly
geography offer a very different look.
Louis
Marks
Louis Marks’ quartet of Doctor Who
stories span quite a range. As well as using his knowledge of the Italian
Renaissance to inform `Masque of Mandragora`, he also penned `Planet of the
Giants`, `Day of the Daleks` and `Planet of Evil`. It would be hard to find any
original series writer who delivered such a varied range. What all four stories
have in common however is crisp, clear storytelling, a real sense of place and
characters who seem as if they have had an existence beyond the limitations of
the story they are in. These traits are not easy to deliver and can make the
pace of his Who work seem slower than
some yet his meticulous content wins out in the end. Perhaps because he wrote
hardly any other fantasy during his career his Who stories have their roots in more real life concerns whatever
their exterior trappings.
As with many of the show’s
best known 1970s writers Doctor Who
represented only a small fraction of an impressive career. Louis Marks was born
in North London in March 1928, attending Christs College and later Oxford’s
Balliol College where he read history. Subsequently he had a sojourn in
Florence studying Italian Renaissance history. He started a writing and
academic career that saw him contribute to journals and also become the head
teacher of a boarding school. In 1955 he founded a monthly magazine `Books and
Bookmen` which he edited.
His first television
script appeared in The Adventures of
Robin Hood for which he penned four episodes. Other 1960s scripts included
episode of The Four Just Men and Danger Man as well as his first Doctor Who contribution `Planet of the
Giants`. He became script-editor of the detective series No Hiding Place from 1965-66.
In 1967 he created the ITV
drama Market in Honey Lane which
regularly had an audience of 20 million viewers until it was revamped to a
twice weekly series shown in the afternoon and viewers deserted it. He then
moved to BBC to become a script editor working on series such as The Stone Tape and Bedtime Stories and subsequently one of its most respected drama
producers. He specialised in single plays but also commissioned a four and a
half hour adaptation of Peter Pan. He
continued writing other scripts including his well -known trio of Seventies Doctor Who stories as well as episodes
of Doomwatch, The Main Chance and Special Branch.
In1983 he produced The Falklands Factor about an 18th
century Spanish invasion of the Falklands which was controversially screened
just months after the recent Falklands War ended. Amongst the other plays he
produced during the Eighties and Nineties were Time and the Conways, Trelawney
of the Wells , Memento Mori, Lady Windemere’s
Fan, Northanger Abbey and Silas Marner. He was also responsible
for an ambitious staging of Sophocles’ Theban plays Oedipus the
King, Oedipus at Colonus and Antigone, adapted and directed by Don
Taylor. His final television work was
2002’s version of Daniel Deronda.
He left the
industry to run a bed and breakfast hotel with his wife, a surprisingly normal
finish for someone who’d spent a lot of his working life in the realms of
classical drama and fiction.
Part
Three: There are two
so- cool moments in this episode, one of which I recall from the very first
time I saw it, the other I’d forgotten. The latter is when the Doctor executes
this amazing drop kick on a couple of guards who are trying to apprehend him.
If the episodes’ earlier sword fight seems a tad staged, this looks
authentically real. The other moment is one of those classic end of episode
images lodged in the minds of fans namely the sight of pure light beaming out
from under Hieronymous’ hood when Frederico pulls off his mask. And that’s also
the end of the scheming Uncle as it goes, seconds later he’s cut down by mid
70s favourite Doctor Who effect the
crackling static. I loved this so much as a kid even now in the YA novels I
write, I often refer to such static and every time I’m thinking about its
deployment in many a Doctor Who
episode!
Up to this point,
Frederico’s plans have been increasingly successful though it did occur to me
that the harassed non speaking personal assistant he keeps calling names knows
everything. Jon Laurimore laps all this
up delivering a performance that stands out for it’s OTT qualities which in a
story that contains both Tom Baker and Norman Jones is something of an
achievement.
The story takes time to
include lines that sketch the wider situation- we have Rossini twice explaining
more epic sounding stuff that’s happening outside – while the Doctor’s summary
of what would happen if the Helix wiped out the men of learning about to
descend on San Martino puts the story into a wider context.
The sense of impending
danger is conveyed more subtly than some stories- while the incidental music is
not as sparse as in the later `Image of the Fendahl`, the two stories share a
feeling of something scary on the way that is marbelled through every scene.
There are echoes too of `Pyramids of Mars` with the smoking hand effect re-used
yet there is a more elemental feel to `Masque`. The pure orange and yellow
light in which Heironymous stands as well as the sound effects when he is
transferring his power – you get a real sense of strange energy travelling
through stone- add to the rich soundtrack this story possesses.
The
Mask of Mandragora
You can actually buy a
full size replica of the gold mask sported by Hieronymous (though not the
purple robes) and designed by Oscar winning James Acheson who was also
responsible for such iconic images as the fourth Doctor’s costume and the Time
Lord collars. The mask is made of fibreglass and features the final version
which apparently had to be remoulded to include extra space for Norman Jones’
large beard. I’d always assumed he grew the mighty beard for the role but it
seems he already had it anticipating Hipster fashion more than 35 years early!
Nobody seems to know if
the actual original prop survived. I imagined I’d seen it at the Blackpool
exhibition but there’s a Facebook group with zillions of photos from the place
and not a scary mask in sight. Does anyone know what happened to it?
Part
Four: The story ends
with an electrical charge in a very effective sequence that includes the hidden
followers of Mandragora revealing themselves and slaughtering half the people
at the Masque. This scene is directed with some panache as the infiltrators
appear to have selected the scariest masks they could get their hands on.
Meanwhile the Doctor has been underground absorbing the energy that as he points
out it is spread rather thinly amongst the brethren. It’s good too that the
Mandragora Helix- through Heironymous- does get to explain itself a little
suggesting it wants to subjugate Earth before the planet becomes too well educated
and ambitious courtesy of some of the learned men attending the dance. As they
depart the Doctor mentions that Mandragora might try again at the end of the 20th
Century; looking at some of the matters occupying us these days I’m wondering
if they succeeded!
Did the likes of DeVinci
actually even attend the masque? As clearly none of the historical characters
were killed by static wielding masked priests in real life we can assume that
they didn’t care much for the idea of a hop and slipped out to the adjacent bar
instead!
Extras were of course a
problem for the most ambitious stories back in the day which is why there are
so many plots that concern a limited number of characters trapped in a confined
area. Here, I counted 12 Helix Brethren and about the same attendees of the
Masque and 12 was probably as many as you got. The dance itself gets some focus
and looks as if it was authentically researched but with something so poised
and formal I think I’d have gone in to the bar with the scientists.
Louis Marks is careful to
confine the solution to the scenario within the timeframe the story is set
meaning the Doctor must sort it out using what’s available there and then. We
don’t see him- as we almost certainly would were this story made today- using
the sonic screwdriver to set up his plan; instead he has to physically attach
wiring to the altar stone and hide it under bits of leaves and dust that’s on
the floor. Presumably Hieronymous and co are on their tea break when he has the
time to do this.
This is not a story that
makes many concessions to the uncommitted viewer and I can’t recall ever seeing
a scene in a drama were two masked characters have a conversation behind their
masks. That it works is testament to the thoroughness of the script. For those who
observe these things there are hints of the more manic Tom that was still a
while away, especially when he is dashing about collecting the material he
needs (which works) and doing his lion impression (which doesn’t). A word too
for Lis Sladen who despite a couple of pivotal story moments doesn’t get a huge
amount to do this time but is always right there even in scenes where she’s in
the background. It’s a rarer quality than you’d think especially if you’re
watching vintage television.
Sarah is also the only
female character in the story. We talk a lot about wider representation in the
series these days but many of the stories from this period struggled to even
include female characters beyond the companion. It was actually Philip
Hinchcliffe’s successor Graham Williams who started to even things out a bit
and some of his stories contained strong female roles. With the modern series
now at forefront of our minds, its also easier to see how limited a lot of the
companion roles were in the old days. In this story Sarah spends her time
either following the Doctor round or else being variously assaulted, kidnapped
and drugged. And what do you know, in the very next story she is taken over
again!
In the dvd documentary for
this story, Rodney Bennett talks about the way that the old series could never
quite build to the sort of crescendo that the modern series can and this is
evident by the ending. Because the story is rooted in a scientific explanation-
ie the Doctor’s use of wires etc – it
seems less frantic than you’d expect especially as he seems to have as much
time as he likes to set up the wiring. The decision to cut from and not return
to the confrontation between the Doctor and Hieronymous also misfires making it
feel like we’ve missed something. I know this was done so that we don’t know
who is behind the masks later but I’m not sure it works as well as it could.
This is often the choice for Doctor Who
stories then and now- do you strive for something more believable but less
exciting or go for the more dramatic but less realistic option? You can say
that the choices they made here do reflect the overall tone of the story.
In truth this is a three
part story that just about manages to billow to four without losing too much
impetus. It’s not always edited sufficiently sharply to really bring home both
the nature of the threat and the excitement of the scientific discoveries just
being made. Yet visually it is rich enough to paper over most of those issues
and home to some large performances that sell the narrative confidently.
Fan review from DWAS Yearbook 1976/7 -
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