In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess: I am not a
science fiction buff, and I have never seen an episode of Dr. Who in its
entirety. I am also approaching these two films, clearly
aimed at juvenile audiences, from the perspective of a somewhat cynical
and adult perspective. In short, I am not the “ideal”
audience for these two pictures – but given that reviews should
encompass all varying points of view, hopefully my perspective will not
seem invalid.
Having dispensed with that, let us get down to brass tacks. Dr.
Who made a tremendous splash on UK audiences in the 1960s, initially
with the distinguished actor William Hartnell cast in the title role. The show was low on budget but big on ideas, and like so many programs of its era, it was in black and white. When
producer Joe Vigoda decided the time might be right to bring the good
doctor to cinema screens, he knew it would be necessary to sweeten the
pot by adding color – and widescreen photography. Given
that Hartnell’s name was unknown outside of the UK – and given that much
could be said for the character of Dr. Who himself, who had yet to
mushroom into an international “brand name” of sorts – it was decided
that it would have to be sold on the basis of a bigger box office draw. Vigoda
was affiliated with
producers Max J. Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky, the heads of Amicus
Productions in the UK , and so the casting of Peter Cushing in the lead
seemed a master stroke.
Cushing was already an established
name on both side of “the pond,” and his presence would help to ensure
that audiences would respond to the concept. Screenwriting
chores inevitably fell to Subotsky, a process expedited by the fact
that Terry Nation, who created the series, was unavailable. In
addition to watering the material down so that it would be more
suitable for the matinee crowd, Subotsky also altered the character of
Dr. Who himself – in the series, he was an alien and a Time Lord,
whereas in the film he’s a kindly old duffer and most definitely human. The changes put Cushing firmly in “kooky old man” mode, which hardly shows him at his best.
The first of the film films, Dr. Who and the Daleks, was released
in 1965 – with much of the same technical personnel carried over from
another, vastly superior, Cushing-Amicus vehicle: The Skull. The
story deals with Dr. Who’s invention of a time travel device known as
TARDIS, which enables one to be transported to any time frame, past or
present, anywhere in the universe. The plot is set in
motion when the beau (Roy Castle, wearing thin early on and getting more
and more irritating as the story unfolds) of Dr. Who’s granddaughter
(Jennie Linden, previously terrorized in Hammer’s Nightmare, 1963)
accidentally triggers the device, thus transporting them all – including
Dr. Who’s younger granddaughter (Roberta Tovey) – to a remote future,
wherein the world has been reduced to ashes and is lorded over by the
power-hungry Daleks, a race of robots.
To his credit, director Gordon Flemyng does a decent job with a laughable screenplay. The
humor is flat and heavy handed, and Cushing’s absent minded professor
routine is about as stale as stale can be, but the low budget production
has some nice camerawork and is paced at a good clip. The
Techniscope framing is eye catching throughout, and some of the
lighting (courtesy of John Wilcox) evokes the ornate, color-drenched
aesthetic of Italian genre filmmaker Mario Bava. Unfortunately, all the technical polish imaginable can only do so much to redeem such a hopelessly hokey enterprise as this. There
is zero suspense, the characters are flat and listless, and the whole
thing is so relentlessly pitched at children that it seems virtually
impossible for a more mature audience to get much out of it. Cushing would
normally present as something of an oasis in such a situation, but in this instance, even he falters. To be fair to the actor, he played the character as written by Subotsky – as a sweet natured eccentric. To
be fair to the audience, however, this only serves to make the
character tolerable in small doses – and with him at the center of so
much of the action, he is ill equipped to fill the role of hero. The
supporting cast includes a number of actors (playing part of a tribe
known as the "Thals," who are being oppressed by the power-hungry
Daleks) who look embarrassed to be kitted out in ludicrous wigs and
heavy eye liner, including Michael Coles, who would later reunite with
Cushing on Hammer’s two modern day Dracula adventures: Dracula AD 1972
and The Satanic Rites of Dracula.
The film opened to withering reviews and big box office, so Amicus
wasted no time lining up a sequel. Cushing returned to play the lead
once again, apparently on the understanding that he would only do it if
they brought back Roberta Tovey to play his granddaughter. And thus it
came to be, Daleks' Invasion Earth: 2150 AD would emerge in 1966...
Here, Dr. Who is accompanied by his niece (Jill Curzon),
granddaughter (Tovey) and a hapless Scotland Yard bobbie to the year
2150... for no real apparent purpose in particular. Upon arrival, the
group of time travelers discover that London is now a bombed out shell
of its former glory, with a group of freedom fighters engaged in a
desperate struggle against an alien force... which turns out to be those
pesky Daleks.
Unlike many sequels, this one manages to improve upon its
predecessor - but given the quality of what came before it, it seems to
be more of a case of the filmmakers learning from their mistakes.
Flemyng is again in charge of direction, and again he makes good use of
the 'scope format. The canvas is larger this time, with more exterior
shots and more ambitious matte and miniature work; alas, the quality of
the FX is highly variable, ranging from the effective (some of the matte
work is pretty well done) to the downright laughable (the Dalek
spacecraft is plainly supported by strings). Cushing is allowed to play
things a little more low key this time, which is most definitely for
the best. It's still not a characterization that will ever rank among
his more distinguished, but at least there isn't quite so much emphasis
on his being a slightly dotty old duffer this time
around.
The supporting cast is an improvement, as well. Bernard Cribbins
is far more engaging as the outsider roped into the plot compared to Roy
Castle in the first film. Cribbins had previously played opposite
Cushing in Hammer's She (1964) and would go on to play the nasty bar man
in Hitchcock's Frenzy (1972). Tovey is plucky and engaging as the
doctor's brainy grandchild, while Andrew Keir adds plenty of gusto as
one of the freedom fighters. Keir had already effectively subbed for
Cushing as the gun toting Father Sandor in the Van Helsing-less Dracula
Prince of Darkness (1965) and would later go on to replace the ailing
thespian on Hammer's troubled Blood from the Mummy's Tomb (1971).
Philip Madoc, later to star in the superior British crime series A Mind
for Murder, is also in good form as a mercenary whose lust for cash gets
the better of him.
On the downside, the film is saddled with a horrendous score by
Bill McGuffie. McGuffie would later add an equally jarring lounge score
to the tacky Cushing vehicle Corruption (1967), so clearly he did not
make much improvement over time. The first film had been scored by
Malcolm Lockyer - who also provided the music for the Cushing sci-fi
items Island of Terror (1965) and Night of the Big Heat (1967) - and his
music, though not among his finest efforts, was far better suited to
the material. John Wilcox's classy photography adds as much gloss here
as it had in the first film.
Sadly (or fortunately, depending on one's point of view), lighting
did not strike twice. The sequel garnered reviews every bit as dismal,
but it failed to repeat the first film's box office performance.
Subotsky and company were ready and willing to push ahead with a third
Dr. Who adventure, but it was ultimately decided that it was a case of
diminishing returns, to plans to continue with the doctor's adventures
were scuttled. Given that the sequel improved on the first film in so
many areas, it's not unreasonable to suppose that the third may have
been better still... that's firmly in the realm of supposition, however,
as we are left with only two vehicles for Cushing's Dr. Who.
Fans of
the series have long dismissed the films for being too far removed from
the mythos of the series, while other viewers may have a hard time
relating to them on any level. For matinee
audiences of the 1960s, however, these were probably rip roaring
entertainment - and Cushing can hardly be faulted for essaying the
character as (re)conceived by Subotsky. Fans of the actor will want to
check these films out, and this is much more convenient to do now that
they have emerged on DVD and Blu Ray in immaculate condition courtesy of
Studio Canal.
