Director Graeme Harper is always interesting to listen to. You’ll know him for his extensive directorial credits, including The Caves of Androzani, Utopia, and Turn Left/ The Stolen Earth/ Journey’s End.

I caught up with him at Neil Cole’s Museum celebration, chatting with Pete Jorysz (Baptist Minister and knowledgeable fan) about Warriors’ Gate.

I joined in…

Graeme: [Warriors’ Gate] had its challenges. I was First Assistant, and it had seemed fine in pre-production, then I realised in rehearsals [Director, Paul Joyce] was not going to plan how to shoot this. I had to stand next to him and write my own camera scripts. Shall we say, I learned how I would do it differently! They gave me the director’s job after that.

The DWC: You’ve done a lot of epic scale and action, like Dougie Camfield. How do you handle that with the smaller intimate details that make it human?

G: Visualisation and planning. Often, the detail comes from having the time due to good planning on the big picture to pick details up. An example, in Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel, we’d finished when Russell said we need a different opening, the horror of the Cybermen being made. So we filmed it. I’d said ‘wrap’ and gone home, then I realised I hadn’t any close ups of one of the main protagonists. I rang Phil Collinson who just laughed his head off, called me a stupid B! Then he called the actor in next day and we picked up the shot.

DWC: Colin Spall was with you in that story, and in Revelation of the Daleks. You’re famous for being the only director to have worked on Classic and recent Who. How has it changed?

G: In the ’80s, I was alone in the studio. We had to compete with Star Wars and we knew we couldn’t with our resources, but I knew it had charm, was loved and popular. I tried with what little experience I had to shoot some single camera work, and keep up the pace in Androzani.

DWC: I like the pacing of The Waters of Mars, especially the slo-mo where they are packing up to evacuate the base.

G: I wanted to make sure you did not miss the reactions between persons. Lindsay Duncan underplayed it so beautifully – proved why she was the Commander.

Waters of Mars is proper adult science fiction, but under Doctor Who became cinematic.

Pete: Was it a nightmare?

G: Yes, but it was enjoyable; a problem to be solved, and a brilliant team of people to work with.

Pete: What was it like working with Tom Baker?

Margot Hayhoe, assistant floor manager and production manager, sitting at the next table, joins in.

Margot: With me, he was perfectly okay, because it [Logopolis] was his last show.

P: But he could be quite forceful in his opinions.

G: As First Assistant, I knew him well so got on with him. One time, I’d asked the crew if they would go over (the 10pm limit) for 15 minutes. He said were you going to ask the Leading Man? You had to come back strong – yes, of course I was going to, once I knew the crew would make it possible. Truthfulness goes a long way.

Davros: “I hope you got my best side. My best side is my dark side.”

DWC: I’m told you’re known for liking actors.

G: I once asked ‘why do you like working with me?’ and was told: ‘you allow actors to be good; you let them show you what they can do.’

DWC: How do you work that along with the enormous crew behind the camera?

G: The First Assistant clears the floor, the actors and director come in and work through the scene, they know their lines. I don’t tell them my plan — I just say ‘you enter here; let’s see what happens.’ You negotiate. Then I say to the crew, ‘this is the way I want to do it, these are the kind of shots,’ and we negotiate with the Director of Photography. I establish that they are at liberty to offer something they can see in a different way.

DWC: Do you have to be an extrovert?

G: You have to be NOISY! And you have to keep your eye on the bigger picture. I was mentoring someone who got that rabbit in the headlights look when she realised she couldn’t handle the knock on effects of changing one thing, under pressure of time.

Pete: What’s it like working with Russell T Davies?

G: He’s a force of nature. He’s mad! He called me one time to meet about something and we sat outside a restaurant in Soho for hours, in the rain. That’s dedication.

DWC: Would you like to be part of his new era?

G: I’m not hurt if I don’t get asked – I think most people think I’ve retired! I would LOVE to do more – I want to see what happens.

Graeme was accompanied by his lovely wife, Bernadette.

DWC: What’s it like for you when Who fans obsess about a small element of Graeme’s work?

Bernadette: It’s interesting the range he has done, from Doctor Who to soaps to Spitting Image. But in all of them, he loves actors.

DWC: Does he take his work home with him?

B: OMG! But I love hearing about it; my life has become richer.

Our lives are all richer for their association with Doctor Who, Bernadette, and for all the brilliant people who make it happen.

Thank you to Graeme, Bernadette, Margot, Pete, and, of course, Neil Cole.

Margot Hayhoe (Assistant Floor Manager, Production Manager) has worked for decades in countless BBC productions, including Doctor Who (on various stories from The War Machines to Snakedance), and The Triffids (1981). Neil Cole has just beautifully restored an original miniature from that iconic adaptation, for his Museum of Classic Sci Fi.

I spoke with her exclusively for the DWC.

DWC: From all your experience in floor managing and producing, who do you value behind the show, the ones we don’t see on screen?

Margot: All the creatives, designers, costume, make-up, and without the camera crew nothing would happen. You can’t pinpoint one because every person is important, whether they’re in for a day or much longer. It’s a big family, trying to make the best programme we can.

In the past it was a bit like a university, all the background departments, reference and photo libraries. If you rang the right department, they’d bend over backwards to get you what you needed. Then after the demand to make each part a business, it was cheaper to go out and buy a record than to borrow it from them.

Margot’s husband Mike was quietly accompanying her, staying out of the limelight. But it turned out he was a camera operator, who happened to film the Jon Pertwee into Tom Baker regeneration!

DWC: A little bit of history!

Mike: It wasn’t a big deal at the time, and what we did wasn’t very complicated. We just stopped the recording, and we felt that ‘is there anything more?’ moment. Barry Letts went out of the studio leaving Jon Pertwee lying on the floor. He brought in Tom who was lain down on the floor close to Jon, and each had a camera on them. We checked the heads were in the same position, then the effect was just the vision mixer with two levers on a desk!

The 21^st century versions involve emanations of great fireworks and SFX. We had some special effects, but didn’t use them much, regarding them as rather… obvious.

Margot Hayhoe, Graeme Harper, and Neil Cole formed a panel at the event celebrating Neil’s museum and a new film about it.

Q: Margot, how difficult was it doing Fury from the Deep with all that foam? Is it true Patrick Troughton fell in, got up, and kept filming?

MH: I can’t remember if Patrick fell over, but a lot of us did! The foam just went everywhere; it was chaos. We had all of TWO cameras to film it. The visual effects dept were very good; they said ‘release the foam!’ — this wall of foam just grew and grew. We were all edging back towards the studio wall. And we got told off for making the floor too wet!

NC: The Caves of Androzani and Revelation of the Daleks are two of my favourites. You seem to get the small budgets and make something incredible.

GH: You need a lot of experience, which I didn’t have in those days as a director. But Bob Holmes’ script was great. I was excited that I was going to do it. Sometimes decisions are made for money-saving, but work, like the decision to use real machine guns and blanks, not expensive laser effects.

B: What changes have you experienced in the BBC?

MH: Budgets are much larger, and they use single camera like movies. I miss the rehearsal time, four or five days so you could see the whole story. Now, no one has an overall feeling for how it will turn out. That’s a loss. TV has improved technically, but there’s a lot of dumbing down.

GH: We used to rehearse; in the ’90s, an hour and a half programme would be two weeks’ rehearsal. Ideas and decisions were sorted during rehearsal so the filming time was efficient. That was a fantastic system. Now, the director has to work out the plans, sometimes with the sets, in advance, and you have to visualise without talking to any actors. In 10 or 15 minutes, you’re supposed to be ready to show how it’s going to go: I find that ridiculous. Back in the ’80s, it was multi-camera, rehearse, record. Now, it’s shot backwards, forwards, and sideways, and no one has a sense of what the whole thing is. I moan about the system, but all the big studios show amazing drama, so it must work!

NC: What about ‘producer’s choice’?

Graeme and Margot both groan.

MH: Once upon a time, the BBC was a big happy family and we all helped each other out. The departments were all told to become business units, had to sell their stuff to producers. Budgets forced producers out of house. It was the death of costume, design, and all those departments. We lost all the flexibility and mutual help. Bureaucracy. In the ’60s, we were in a place of excellence, employed there.

Q: What’s it like to have part of your life preserved in Neil’s museum?

GH: Fantastic! You will definitely want to come in. No matter how much money you throw at Doctor Who, it’s still very hard work, so it’s brilliant that people want to see the work behind it. Extraordinary. You’ll never escape this fantastic family.

NC: The BBC never had a plan to look after their stuff.

MH: They spent a lot of money creating a very accessible, well-organised costume department. PC came along and they had to sell it off. But can I remind everyone — there is a baby Triffid in the room! I am very grateful Neil has restored it; it is admirable.

Q: Why is that BBC adaptation so iconic?

MH: John Duttine was wonderful, and the Triffids themselves were scary. Glycerine gave them a horrible feel, and the SOUND really terrified people. The clacking, knocking menace. And the opening titles were eerie; they reminded me of lockdown.

NC: And it IS the book, not a movie vaguely based on the idea!

Q: What’s your best tip for how to be successful in your roles?

GH: When I was doing Bergerac, I rang Mark Campbell for advice. He said, ‘keep it moving; move the actors, move the camera, preferably both. Do that and you’ll never stop working’ – and I haven’t!

MH: Watch them, learn how to – or how not to. Be polite, and not shouty. [Margot then recounted a time when she shouted at Graeme for playing the harmonica when everyone else was trying to sleep!] Never be afraid to ask, don’t pretend you know.

NC: In the early days, edits cost so much; how did that affect you?

MH: Me, not so much, but the directors would have to accept stuff they weren’t happy with. Rehearsal helps, especially live TV like Z cars – especially if you were doing the back projection and it ran out!

GH: I was once forced by the person training me to record one straight through, as live. It was ‘orrible! But it worked like a dress rehearsal, because we did it again that evening and it was perfect.

Q: What are your memories of the big farewell on the beach scene from Doomsday?

GH: It was a big scene for Billie [Piper] because it was filmed in the middle: she had to work up to say this big goodbye to the whole show, then go back to four months more. I didn’t know either of them well, and it was a huge, 52 day block – no one has done that before or since. 15 nights of overnight shoots. I went to see them in make-up to discuss how we were going to approach it. There’s an etiquette when you’re doing close ups with artists; you do the lady first. I knew she was going to be emotional and wanted to be sure we got that on camera! We didn’t want to ‘waste’ her tears on David [Tennant]’s version. Fortunately, she wanted to go first because she didn’t think she could bring it back for a second go. But the first take was awful, windy, hair everywhere, snot! She was upset that she had to go again, but it was brilliant. Now I’m getting emotional myself!

Come back to the DWC later this week for an exclusive interview with Graeme!

I live in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. 13 miles over the Moor is our neighbouring tiny town, also in the middle of nowhere. Visitors call them villages; they’re wrong: villages are usually much larger.

One Saturday earlier this month, I was walking through the neighbouring tiny town with one of those visitors, chatting about the weather, the local emergency services and human needs, the value of community. I say “walking” – I was trying hard not to float or skip in fangirl glee, because the visitor was Sophie Aldred, fresh from the broadcast of her triumphant return to Doctor Who.

We were heading for the celebration of Neil Cole’s Museum of Classic Sci Fi, a day which went on to cement that first impression; in Who, like no other show, there is no barrier between stars and fans, collectors and creators, crew, cast, and helpless obsessives. During the day, I took copious notes for our site (with permission from Neil and all featured individuals of course), and here offer you, dear reader, a tiny selection of the happy conversations that filled the day…

First, I catch up with Hal Townsend and Phil Robinson, creature creators…

The DWC: Why do you do it?

Hal: We’re such massive fans, which is how I met Neil. It is a good community he has managed to create. The events are always really friendly. My mate Phil and I create the costumes, so when we come to an event we dress up.

DWC: Do you have a favourite era?

Hal: Classic has the best story, adventure, and character development. But I’ve worked on Chris [Chibnall]’s era, and the new Russell [T Davies] specials.

DWC: Wow! I guess you can’t give us any spoilers, but can you say why we’re having to wait for so long?

Hal: Russell never, never does anything without a reason – In Russell We Trust.

DWC: And Phil, why do you do this job?

Phil: There’s such a diversity of designs, it is very inspiring; it reminds you of your childhood. And I love creating things.

DWC: As a sculptor, how do you create creature costumes in which actors can express things?

Phil: There are complex animatronics in some, but it’s also the basic material. Silicone is soft, and they add something to make it even softer, so it can cling so close to the skin, and move with the muscles underneath.

DWC: You created the new Sil costume for Nabil Shaban?

P: Yes, I went to his house and took casts and measurements to make a full body costume. And I had to go to Sophie [Aldred]’s house to make a cast of her head, in a bit of time pressure as it was a last-minute decision to make her character, Lady Na, wear prosthetics [for Sil and the Devil Seeds of Arodor].

DWC: I gather you have been involved in the upcoming RTD2 era?

Phil: Yes, but I have signed an NDA, so I can’t give you any information.

Hal: If I told you, I’d have to kill you.

Phil: I can say we helped in the team on two different kinds of monsters for the 60^th anniversary specials. Millennium Effects did monsters from 2005 until Chibnall started; now they have come back with Russell.

DWC: So can your understanding of the time it takes behind the scenes help fans with our impatience?

Phil: We were sculpting them back in April. So we have even longer to wait to see the finished product!

We all had to wait 16 years last century, but Keith Barnfather says:

‘For me, the ‘wilderness’ years never really existed. We carried on, with fan-made audio visuals, Reel Time, and Myth Makers. The ‘Classic/NuWho split doesn’t occur to us.’

It is seriously worth looking up the massive range of stories, interviews and films he’s behind. The story of Neil’s museum is here, presented by Sophie Aldred.

Steve Lyons is a Doctor Who writer who thrived through the ‘wilderness’ years, producing novels, short stories, Big Finish, and other audios. I chatted with him about conventions and fandom.

Steve: I have done it as a guest and as an attendee. It’s just brilliant that Doctor Who has this solid aspect, when we can get together and talk about something we love. It’s my favourite TV show because it very quickly became so much more than a show.

DWC: What made you a writer?

Steve: I’ve been a writer for as long as I can remember reading.

DWC: What audio Who are you proudest of?

Steve: The Witch Hunters, The Crooked World, The Architects of History. When I had a companion I had created (Tracy Childs’ Elizabeth Klein) and monsters I’d created on Radio 7/4extra, it was really exciting – I had my name in the Radio Times!

John Hogg, prop replica creator, collector, and ‘Killer Auton’ actor is an excellent example of how fans become part of the show. He says:

“The first TV I remember was The Time Warrior. We couldn’t afford a TV before then. Now I’m in the credits for the Blu Ray Season 8 trailer, wearing this head I made as a killer Auton!”

Adam, collector:

“I was 3 years old, in front of Androzani. I’ve been addicted ever since; it’s been part of all my life.”

People call ‘Ol Sixie ‘The Ambassador’ but I’d say there’s another uber fan and star whose work for the show is invaluable. Sophie Aldred is such a pleasure to talk with.

DWC: As a woman of very similar age to yourself I have to ask, parachuting into the TARDIS… are you trying to make the rest of us feel inadequate?

Sophie: [Laughs] When I first saw the script, I was delighted. Chris had asked what I wanted to do, and I said whatever Ace was always doing, lots of running and jumping. Then when I saw the sheet is said ‘stunt double.’ I thought ‘oh no; health and safety aren’t going to allow me’. After day one I never saw the ‘stunt double’ again – they realised I was as foolhardy as ever!

Jamie Magnus Stone would come up to me and say; ‘do you fancy doing…? Or he’d say ‘I’ve had an idea’ and sketch it on a bit of paper. ‘If you were to lie on this plank, on a dolly, we could whiz you into the TARDIS. I said ‘Yes! Let’s go for it. The crew thought I was bonkers. I thought ‘are you really going to do this? Yes. I am.’

DWC: Is it really an encouragement to be active?

Sophie: That is exactly what I said to Chris. I would love to encourage women of my age; they have a chance. I work at it though; I run nearly every day, I dance, I eat carefully.

DWC: What does it mean to have Ace in Classic and the most recent televised Who, and maybe even going into the future?

Sophie: The outpouring, the love of the character of Ace I have received this week… I’d love to think she has a future. That Russell is looking and thinking maybe a spin off – I haven’t heard yet!

There followed a screening of Doctor on Display, then another tea and home-made cakes break, followed by Q&A panels.

Q&A: Sophie Aldred, Keith Barnfather, Roger Stevens – presenter and creators of the film – and Neil Cole, its subject.

Neil thanked the guests for coming but Sophie thanked him.

Sophie: This is not like a normal Who con; it’s very, very gentle, relaxed. Loads of time for everyone to spend time with everyone.

Q: Roger, how do you edit so much potential material?

Roger: It’s a very people focussed story, about the people, not the props. It has ups and downs. We wanted a very human story and I hope that’s what we got.

Neil: In the film, restored artefacts from the show are referred to as ‘sacred.’

Keith: One of the things about Doctor Who is there’s no other show that’s exactly like it. The line between those who make and those who watch is has blurred over the years. We are a family.

Q: Sophie, what’s next in line for you?

Sophie: well, from the sublime to the ridiculous, I’ve just been voicing a Barbara Cartland novel – lots of skin-tight pantaloons! You can’t plan as an actor.

Q: What was that scene [in The Power of the Doctor] with Sylvester like?

Sophie: I recorded my bits in the cold and wet dripping cave in the Brecon Beacons. I don’t think Sylvester would have like that very much! I’d been given a non-actor to read his lines, so I asked would you mind if Barnaby [Edwards, Dalek Operator] read in his lines. He did quite a good impression of Sylvester! Then we did the other way round. We had this lovely morning, Sylvester in his costume – there was something about him in that hat and scarf and jumper. Pretty emotional. Then I looked up and there just ‘happened’ to be a couple of hundred people dropped into watch!

After that scene, I was supposed to go home. I saw them [Peter, Colin, Sylvester, and Paul] in their trailer, and I thought ‘I can’t go home!’, so I stuck around. So for the rest of the day I played all the other Doctors. I read in their lines – it was the best Doctor Who con ever! Chris had come in specially for that day. An amazing day.

At the end of the day, the Cybermen came in and saw all the Doctors walking off, and said, oh no! something else we have to keep quiet about!

Q: What was the Companions Anonymous scene like?

Sophie: It was weird, the room was hazy with dry ice. Jodie [Whittaker] wasn’t in the scene but came in just to be there and see everyone. Everyone was so kind to William Russell, especially John Bishop [the first male companion and the most recent]. The floor manager knew he was struggling, came over and knelt in front of him, so tender. I actually thought a couple of days later ‘was that all a dream?’ Joyful to be together, reverential.

Neil: Colin was back on telly – in his element!

Sophie: Colin felt vindicated, to be back in the fold, doing such a great job.

Q: What got you into Doctor Who?

Sophie: I watched as everyone did. But I watched through a crack in the door, and made my brother watch so he could tell me about it in case I had to close the door!

I wanted to watch Jodie’s because it’s an icon. I’ve met so many girls and younger women wearing the Jodie costume, and a friend rang and said they’re showing the Rosa episode in school history class.

Neil: [who is also an art teacher] I have shown the Vincent episode in Art so many times.

Q: What was it like being back in The Jacket?

Sophie: The costume manager was going to make a replica, but I said use the real thing. So she kept it carefully. She told me ‘I’ve had so many people come to see The Jacket.’ In the scene where I pull it out of the floor in UNIT, they said ‘we’re going to do the Hero shot.’ I said ‘ooh, nice’. They said ‘no, not you – the Jacket!’

Keith: Maybe a spinoff?’

Q: What does the character of Ace mean to you?

Sophie: Everything. When I walked into John Nathan-Turner’s office with his Dalek curtains and framed Tom Baker Y-fronts, who’d have thought I’d be here 30-something years later?

You sign NDAs. The only person who knew was my husband because when my agent rang I burst into tears. He said what’s the matter? I said [mimicking sobbing] ‘Nothing’s the matter; I’m going to be in Doctor Who again!’

Keith: You rang and said something’s happened but I can’t tell you. So I knew, but you couldn’t say, so I couldn’t ask. What would life be like without Doctor Who, all the friends? We wouldn’t be here.

I don’t think any of us can imagine life without Doctor Who. Where else would you hear a ring-modulated Dalek utter ‘Oopsie daisy’? Its operator was a young girl, doing well with the big heavy travel machine. She is part of the Who family, evidence that there is No Other Show quite like it..

Bonus Material: Exclusive regeneration scene for the DWC, performed by Jason Lythgoe Hay and Avenue Who puppets

Video not working? Try clicking here.

Are you flummoxed by The Flux, or are you flush with the facts?

Or, like the Doctor, are you in three minds about it all?

Try our fun-filled time-filler to find your Flux-Buddy – are you Fam, Friend or Foe?

(If you want to play, just keep track of how many of each letter you choose)

1. Why were there so many characters?

A) Because Chibnall is so good at creating them, or using ones someone else created. I miss Ryan!

B) They were all important to different parts of the plot, and it would be a shame to discard any of them; a bit like Journey’s End.

C) They were originally invented for lots of different stories, and got squished under the Flux umbrella. They don’t quite fit, even when split up to compete their missions.

D) So they could stand around while the Doctor uses them all like Greg House uses his trainees – to bounce off and occasionally pick up their ideas, while    technobabbling at herselves.

E) Because Chibnall doesn’t know when to stop. I could make a suggestion.

2. Vinder to Diane: “Why have they kept you if everyone else is gone?”

B) She may have been insignificant to them but she matters to us; she’s a lovely character, it shows she’s clever, and it gives us (along with Dan) more reason to want to see her again.

D) The ‘in-story’ reason that she’s insignificant is lazy writing as a contrast to the storytelling reason; partly they wanted to, like they wanted to reunite Vinder and Bel. And partly without SOMEONE to talk to, Vinder would have to learn all that himself and waste loads of time showing the audience, or talk infodump aloud to himself.

C) Due to Covid’s constantly changing situation and regulations, they had to use limited pool of actors. It could have been any prisoner gone to ground used to pass on his experience when Vinder needed it. But then they’d have picked up yet another stray!

E) Because she fulfils Chibnall’s overriding agenda to use diverse and minority actors.

A) Maybe they were keeping her as hostage or bait. We don’t need to question all the little details that got lost in the final cut.

3. Why did Jericho have to die?

E) Because Chibnall thinks old white guys are the past and must be seen to be wiped out with all the other monsters.

C) Because it’s hard for viewers to feel the loss of 7 million Lupari they never met, but can feel for one character they’ve got to know and like. Shame it had to be the classiest actor though. Note the look on McNally’s face as comedy Sontaran recites infodump; he looks round, assesses situation, shows emotion.

D) Because it was another trope to throw in for emotional effect without much consequence.

B) Because old white guys can still be stalwart, honourable, chivalrous, and courageous to their very last breath, not just a plot device or comic relief. Making his death as much accident as heroic sacrifice – but accepted with equanimity – completed his personal story well.

A) Because a life well-lived should go out fighting on the winning side not moulder away in a basement somewhere reminiscing about past glory.

4. Who were Swarm and Azure and what happened to them?

B) Two of the best-acted villains for ages, all confident charm and salacious slow-burn menace. Plus great costumes. Consumed by the ‘Saviour’ they foolishly served.

D) A lot of talk but not much action, their apparently limitless power easily defeated by dodging out of the way. Wasted potential.

A) They were marvellous minions of Time, created to free it from the Mouri but destroyed when they were defeated by the Doctor’s superior mind.

E) Examples of Chibnall’s imagination, a lot of bluster and showy style but empty on perfunctory examination. Azure called it ‘ascension’ – I’d call it being unceremoniously disposed of when he got bored with them.

C) An entertaining enough plot device for taunting the Doctor and us fans with the Timeless Child arc. She rejected their temptation, as she should. Their plot was not as strong as their performance.

5. Who/what was the Grand Serpent all about?

D) A rather wasted good actor with not much to do but ooze poisonous urbanity and menace the goodies, for the panto audience to boo at but no reason to be involved at all.

B) A really fun villain with a plan, which we never really got to understand. Revenge? Survival? World Domination? Maybe he’ll be back, who knows? That glance over his shoulder as he entered door 7 suggests so. Good foil versus the Doctor and Kate

C) Chibnall teasing us that he might be the Master, with his doomed alliances, snake form, and style choices.* Had some good moments, but a hurried, too easy demise. ‘They must rate you very highly – for now.’ (Segun Akinola’s gorgeous score for him as he slides into view behind the     Sontarans).

E) A patent Chibnal plot device to be used for explaining why UNIT went underground (a problem he created in the first place) then discarded without a thought.

A) A brilliant character villain, with obvious elements of present-day dictators and power-grabbers, inevitably defeated by the underdog and resistance.

* (Did anyone else look at his staff with a snake wound round it, and think ‘common symbol of a doctor…’?)

6. What progress did the Doctor make through this story?

A) She didn’t need to; we always knew she was going to sort it all out as she’s the Doctor.

C) Jodie was much better, especially versus the baddies, ignoring Azure’s bluster, the look on her face showing the Doctor   knowing her tormentor was bonkers and ready to fall. Sassy under torture like the Eighth Doctor, but no idea why the Grand  Serpent just stood there and let her talk, much as her gaggle of companions did.

B) She’s got control over the lure of her past memories, and chosen to start again. Akinola’s almost quoting Gold under that hide-the-fobwatch sequence implies she’s got as much memory as she needs. She’s fixed her relationship with Yas, maybe having learned from what Karvanista told her. She’s progressed as a person.

E) None at all; she’s right back where she started, knowing nothing, but weakened by the flux. Which at least means she’ll be gone soon.

D) She’s gained a little authority and control, lost some of the scattergun infodump routines, but still spent most of the time reacting to stronger, more dangerous characters – like Time cloaked as herself. She has little time to make up lost ground.

7. What did they run out of?

E) Ideas – used Blake’s 7 Gan’s limiter on Karvanista, Hunger Games zones in Passenger, Star Trek The Next Generation plot, comic book designed characters; we could go on. But can’t be bothered.

C) Time. Eight or even 10 episodes with more ‘show’ and less ‘tell’ would have worked better. We could have learnt more about some characters arcs, and got to know others – like Williamson – better, and tied up more loose ends.

D) Money. How wonderful a new interior TARDIS set would have been after the flux ate it. Then conveniently forgot it had.

B) Extras. Covid meant their giant crowds were socially distanced, and each actor had to cover a lot of roles (Dan Starkey) or plot points. At least in small groups we got to know most of the people a bit better.

A) Screen space. Seriously; this would have looked awesome on IMAX.

8. What’s the most important thing about comedy?

C) Balance. It could have been too heavy without some comic touches, but some misfired. Some laugh-out-loud lines and mostly convincing delivery, but other parts too slow and unfunny breaking up the action, or using time that could have been better spent.

D) Timing: Dan’s line, “be nice or you won’t get a biscuit” was funny, but the audience knew Karvanista had just been told ALL his Lupari race had been wiped out. Chibnall REALLY needs a script editor.

A) Visual gags. Like the reference to the Third Doctor, famous for drinking tea without lifting the cup. The Doctor gratefully accepted the refreshment offered by the Ood but didn’t appear to touch it. Camp walks, farce running around tunnels, and cartoon expressions are fun too.

B) Delivery. The actors made their funny lines work, and seemed to enjoy themselves, and each others’ delivery. If you like something about the character you remember the line more.

E) Taste. Sontar Huh? Corner shops, manufacturers of cheap chocolate, and Bob Holmes should be suing Chibnall.

9. What explanation can you give for Anti-matter, (The) Division, the quadruple genocide (don’t forget the Lupari), The Magic Faraway Tree under Liverpool, the un-mended Flux-ravaged universe, Karvanista knowing how to remote stun intruders but no other Lupar doing it, Claire’s Angel, the Village’s safe return to normal space in ’67, and all the other unanswered questions?

A) They are like the fobwatch: only evil characters want to open up a pandora’s box like that.

E) Incompetence? Boredom? Incipient dementia? Who cares?

B) They draw in characters like Williamson, add depth and motivation to others, and leave us lots to talk about or other writers to follow up.

D) Over-promising and under-delivering. Like other leaders I could think of, convinced of their own brilliance and unchecked by any opposition.

C) Tom’s ‘Have I The Right’ speech is so iconic, we tend to forget that the Doctor has been willing to wipe out ‘every last stinking’ Dalek/ Cyberman/ Gallifreyan/ Skaran. But preferred ‘another way.’ Without ‘magic’ portals to other worlds sci-fi wouldn’t exist. Chibnall is probably leaving no more holes than his predecessors, but they’re all more obvious and raggedy.

10. Which quotation best sums up your response to Flux?

B) “I think you might be getting the hang of this!” (Yas to Dan)

D) “You are not, and yet you are.” (Ood to Doctor)

C) “Oh, there’s too many questions!” (The Doctor)

E) “I do not have time for your delusional witterings.” (Stenk to Grand Serpent)

A) “What an awfully big adventure.” (Jericho)

So which Flux character are you…?

If you answered mostly A

You have total faith in your Leader and    follow him without question, even when his plan to finish everything with a cataclysmic showdown is fallible and full of holes. You are willing to sell your soul for cheap confectionary which gives you a   sugar rush but has no nutritional value.

You are Commander Shallo and probably need to recharge.

If you answered mostly B

You have lots of love for the good characters and are happy to be carried along for the exciting ride, even if you can’t see the whole thing without someone you trust explaining it to you. You are content to go on with the adventure in the company of anyone of like mind.

You are Tigmi and we wish you a long and happy life.

If you answered mostly C

You have been estranged from Doctor Who for some time, clinging to old recordings for comfort, but have finally been reunited with the Doctor. You have mostly enjoyed the adventure and people you’ve met, though you’ve had some ups and downs. You are at home in the TARDIS once more, but not everything is forgiven and you still have questions.

You are Yaz and your journey is not yet complete.

If you answered mostly D

You have valiantly and heroically stuck it out through most of the Flux, and despite great effort and personal pain have remained polite and gentlemanly to the end. Nevertheless, you find yourself on one side of an impenetrable barrier with Chibnall, Jodie, and the Fam on the other side.

You are Simon Danes Professor Eustacious Jericho and we never want to lose you.

If you answered mostly E

You are urbane, superior, and used to being in charge, and can’t see the point of anything that doesn’t match your personal criteria. You enjoy imposing your will on others and set off an ego-klaxon whenever you open your mouth. You are left alone on a rock staring bleakly into the void, and stalking the comments sections of fansites.

You are the Grand Serpent and could probably use a hot chocolate. Or therapy.

None of the above

You have long experience of the Doctor, and are here because you care, and people like you, but you have been given little to engage with and feel unable to contribute very much. You have had interesting encounters with a few characters, but spent too much time wandering round in the dark waiting for something to turn up.

You are Kate Stewart and we live in hope that something better will turn up for you, soon.

Or better still, make up your own buddy-link. We’ve time to fill till New Year.

Extra points for knowing which companion said the title of this quiz, and in which story.

Hello, hello, welcome! So nice to see you back for another tour of the Under Gallery; all 87 of you at a glance. And three of you are Zygons. But I’m not telling anyone which three. And someone from the 23^rd century, by the look of those implants. Mind your antennae on the low doors, sir, we don’t want any accidents.

You are probably wondering why the Curator isn’t guiding you round the Under Gallery today; well, he does tend to disappear mysteriously, quite a lot. In fact, I sometimes wonder if he exists in another plane altogether and only appears to be here. He told me once that he thought London was a dump, and though he spends time here, he doesn’t have to like it. Don’t be offended — I’m sure he likes all of you, it’s just that he gets called away. He said it was to judge a synchronised swimming competition on Betelgeuse 4, but as there’s no liquid water on Betelgeuse 4, I think he’s probably negotiating peace between Sontarans and Rutans. Again.

So, he’s asked me to take you round today. I’m a bit nervous, but I was once told I should have more confidence. Even bad people can be right sometimes. So — on with the tour: this week, the Hall of Walls!

Art doesn’t have to have enormous gilt frames or marble plinths. There’s such a lot of art preserved directly on walls. There’s straight forward graffiti; then history, carvings, warnings, murals, and the occasional giant snake.

Then there’s all sorts of things temporarily stuck on walls – posters, propaganda, prohibitions.

“Why do people write things on walls?”

Well, they last a long time, and as the Doctor said, ‘you can’t lose a wall.’

(Actually he stole that line from Isobel Watkins [The Invasion]). Also, if you really want someone to notice something, write it on a wall. Big.

This is the largest exhibit. A person who always knows how to get attention: sometimes, she’s more subtle than this, though not often. Yes, you can pose in front of it – would you like me to take a picture? Selfies are never as good are they?

River and the Doctor both have a habit of writing on walls. He got attention when he wrote this declaration on a wall, using an unusual tool to do so. But he said it was better than using it for what it was made for. The Doctor would use a wall to work things out – in fact, she claimed to be Banksy, but was fibbing: I know who Banksy really is. But I’m not telling.

Sometimes a wall is just a good way of preserving a message for a long time.

Graffiti is more than ‘vandalism’ or mere scribbles – it can be astonishingly artistic, and it is definitely identity for so many.

But if you want a real graffiti artist, there’s none to beat Rigsy; his painting was so good, it saved the world. After he encountered some of the most disturbing wall art we’ve come across – skin, nerves, humans flattened to 2D.

Not everyone’s as gifted, but this artist was pretty traumatised at the time.

That was a subconscious race memory, but wall art is often a very conscious, deliberate attempt to write history. Or rewrite it, depending on which version of Atlantis you’re in.

These wall tiles are one of his earliest histories of the Thals. And their enemies the Daleks weren’t averse to a bit of wall art too, even if they claim it’s functional.

Histories writ large on walls are often made by societies with really big egos – like the Pharaohs. I wonder if the Doctor would like a hat like that?

Funny how supposedly powerful beings like to spin their history as warning, or even threat.

‘Was Sutekh responsible for the construction of the Sphinx?’

We suspect he had a hand in it, yes.

This one is also a puzzle, to a secret door and passageway. Would you go in if it opened? Are you the sort of person who’d venture into a dark tunnel with no idea what lay beyond? There might be a job for you in UNIT. See me after the tour.

Above: The Doctor and Bellal come across an ad for an ancient TV channel 

Artistic puzzles are not unusual, and usually obvious once you see them – like those magic eye 3D pictures – I love those, don’t you? Most species like the pleasure of solving a puzzle. Apart from the Judoon; they prefer poker.

The Doctor could, of course, pop back and watch the people create their wall art, but I think he just likes the mystery, or solving the puzzle. Have you noticed how really clever people sometimes need the screamingly obvious pointing out…?

Not everything that looks old and historical is to be taken at face value. UNIT tries to defend the planet, which is lauded when it’s aliens we’re resisting. Oddly, we are less popular when it’s the earthly authorities’ abuse of power we have to resist. We’ve been officially closed down more than once, but we can operate underground when necessary.

Sometimes, wall art is so old that the meaning is lost, though the art remains. Often when it is meant to be a warning, the cultures that look at it now are so many years and light years away from the people who designed it that we don’t get the message. Other times the human instinct for self-preservation picks up the race memory pretty clearly.

Enough with the portentous portals! Everyday wall art is worth a look just as much as ancient history. They tell us who we are, where we are, what we’re doing there. And what to expect…

Here’s an interesting take on the old ‘comedy/tragedy’ face mask used to denote theatre. Just a skull – the Happiness Patrol left nothing to laugh at. Another regime successfully resisted by dropouts, rebels, and the blues.

 Big wall art is often used to set a tone, like these in corporate hospitality, hotels, cruises.

Above: Let’s welcome Turlough to the podium…

The tone set by the wall art is not always aimed at beauty, but at making a statement about who has the power. Or who would like to think they have.

Powerful people’s wall deco choices can be controversial, but sometimes there’s a legitimate reason for the material used.

Other statement wall art is more fun, expressing the personalities of the people who create them.

And when people are eating, they seem to love to have art on the walls around them.

My auntie had a row of ducks on her dining room wall. What would UNIT have said if they knew my Uncle Tom had rigged the middle one up with some – er – borrowed tech so that she could contact him wherever he was?

Talking of Uncle Tom, here’s a bit of art he only got to see after the crisis was over, when UNIT got into the village and especially the pub.

Pub signs are often overlooked, or more accurately underlooked, being over people’s heads – but can tell you a lot, or give you cause to ask what stories lurk in the locality.

So, from pub signs to more temporary wall art like posters, advertising and propaganda. Images speak louder than words and stick in our heads — like this crocodile illustrating the importance of pit props in LLanfairfach.

Posters may be ephemeral, but can tell you a great deal about whatever situation you find yourself in; vital when the TARDIS ends up somewhere dangerous. So all the time then.

If an artist is really lucky, they may be able to earn their living through ‘pure’ art, but we shouldn’t dismiss art done for marketing or powerful interests. We all need goods and entertainment, though some are not necessarily good for you!

I wonder if that young man knew, before he died, that bow ties were cool, and geeks have always been chic? But I’m getting carried away. Sorry.

Advertisers can get a bit carried away, to the annoyance of property owners. Though he said it wasn’t as bad as painting the TARDIS pink.

You could just enjoy the art design or calligraphy, but working with the Doctor trains you to look more carefully; there are sometimes clues and connections – even warnings – the casual observer might miss. And spotting the clues can save your life.

When your life becomes the subject of a poster, you really have to worry.

Dan certainly was much happier being the subject of a poster; advertising an ethos, something the company was proud of.

But advertising which identifies particular persons can descend into demonising opponents.

So beware of propaganda masquerading as news or adverts, and be especially cautious with anything posted on the side of a bus!

Ephemeral wall art is often advertising who we are, for good or ill. At least Jo could see what she was letting herself in for!

And Ace could see what she’d left behind.

As the Doctor said, “some people have the strangest ideas about décor.”

Plague warnings are useful but there are more subtle dangers shown in posters; who could this kindly looking gentleman be?

(Actually, it’s Jack Kine, head of the Visual Effects Department at the BBC, whose predecessor Roy Oxley had been the model for Big Brother in Cartier’s BBC adaptation of Nineteen Eighty-Four.)

If a leader has to put up a BIG poster of themselves, you have to question what they are up to.

Propaganda takes all forms, and no species is immune.

One has to have respect for that design; it implies movement, catastrophe, an unstoppable force. Thankfully, we stopped that catastrophe, together. Was I scared? Yes, of course, but I’m UNIT trained; I’ve been bombed, shot at, knocked unconscious, interrogated, and trapped in an alternative universe where everyone was evil, including me. But worst of all, my parents named me ‘Petronella’ and sent me to a comprehensive in east Croydon. Why do people have so much difficulty living with someone who is different?

Clashes between different people on the same planet seem insane to anyone who’s travelled the universe, and it can be harder to deal with your own history than splinter groups of aliens among us.

So I have saved this one til last; when my OCD is bad, stressed at the chaos out there, I come in here and look at this bit of wall.

‘It is forbidden to dump bodies into the river.’ Not ‘in’, but ‘into’. ‘In’ would imply you were standing in the water dumping bodies while you got wet; this means standing outside the river dumping bodies into it from the bank, or the bridge.

But look at what is tells us in such perfect English: there are so many bodies – dead people – that the normal funerals, graves, human mourning rituals, have been abandoned. So plague, or war, or both. And that word ‘Forbidden.’ No fine or fixed penalty is mentioned, not because there was no penalty, but because there was no limit to what might happen to you if you were caught. Totalitarian dystopia in 9 grammatically perfect words. Sigh. Makes whatever we have to deal with when we go back outside just that little bit better.

But, if you still need a little help facing the world, the cafe on the way out sells gorgeous ice cream now – I helped them out once with a minor Wirrn infestation in the disabled toilet, so they owed me a favour – or a flavour as the Curator might say. Oh dear; his sense of humour is catching. Time to call it a day, and I’ve a couple of boxes to keep an eye on.

But do come again. Meanwhile, keep your eyes on the walls – you never know when you might need to have noticed them.

‘Exsqvisit!’

Back again, so soon? How marvellous! Well, I think it’s marvellous. So nice to see you all again here in the Under Gallery. Well, almost all of you. Remember last time? One of you won’t be joining us – I told him not to wander off – didn’t I tell you not to wander off?

That imbecile wandered off into our collection of floors – rather spectacular if I say so myself:

The red and white chessboard from the Tower of Rassilon in the Death Zone (The Five Doctors)…

The Exxilons’ city puzzle floors (Death to the Daleks)…

The great Seal from the pit of Kroptor -‘the bitter pill’ (The Impossible Planet/ The Satan Pit)…

 The basements from Tidmarsh Manor (Planet of the Spiders)…

And Fetchborough Priory, (Image of the Fendahl)…

Which you may consider a little brash, but you can’t deny it had Stael. Then there’s the one from the cavern of the Church in Devil’s End (The Daemons)…

Yes, I know it looks pretty, but it had dear old Sergeant Benton playing a particularly nasty form of Twister.

Which rather illustrates my point: one absolutely most not step on them. Well, what did the wanderer expect? Step on any of those and you either blow yourself to smithereens or summon up ancient evil from the mists of time, and I know a thing or two about that, let me tell you. It took Osgood weeks to clear up that mess.

Not all our floors are weapons; this one was a warning, a last confession from people who were weaponised; good scientists forced to create things to kill others (The Ghost Monument). Perhaps the saddest of our collection.

So, heed the warning and Don’t Wander Off.

But, to more cheerful things; on with the tour! Where do you fancy today – the Leonardo da Vinci room? You know, there are some people who go to the Louvre to see just one of his paintings, and they can’t even be sure it’s the real thing. They could have done so much more, given the Louvre’s full of real paintings by real people.

Follow me – and no running down the corridors.

Here we are, and look: McGillop has returned Leonardo’s ‘head of a woman’ (The TV Movie) from the Portrait Gallery. But I have a nagging feeling that she should be facing the other way…

But that’s interesting; this shouldn’t be here. Don’t you think that’s interesting?

It’s a rather strange portrait of Romana (City of Death), an over-literal depiction of a Time Lady, but the artist was working under the pressure of time – a crack in time, in fact. Cracks seem to be a problem for a few of the TARDIS’ travellers over the years. Besides, the café he was sketching in was about as fake as a frog in a Fabergé, right down to the gingham cloths, gallic shrugs and berets, and calls for ‘deux Beaujolais!’

Now these are the real thing; Leo’s drawing was always fascinating. See this sketch of a helicopter (City of Death).

Novel mechanism, can’t really call it art, but astounding creativity and imagination, so far ahead of his time. Almost as bad as Churchill for wanting to know what the future held. I had a devil of a job keeping clues from him, and that Meddling monster giving him ideas about powered flight didn’t help (The Time Meddler). Just look at his idea for a flying machine from Professor Eldred’s museum (The Seeds of Death).

And who knows what Leonardo and River got up to while she was distracting him so Helen could play art thief (Big Finish’s Doomsday Coalition: The Doomsday Chronometer).  The trouble they get into without me. Dear dear.

And here she is; one of the great treasures of the universe: Portrait of Lisa Gherardini, wife of Francesco del Giocondo, but you may know her as the Mona Lisa.

Well, one of them, but at least I can guarantee that this is a real one: it has ‘This is a fake’ scribbled in felt tip underneath. A copy is still of interest; they’re collected all over the universe, and should not be destroyed unless in extreme circumstances. Rory only ever had eyes for Amy, whatever age she was (The Girl Who Waited).

‘Why hasn’t she got any eyebrows?’ – is that all you can say; ‘no eyebrows’? We’re talking about the Mona Lisa! Though I remember she couldn’t sit still, so poor Leo could never get the smile quite right. Sitting there for all those years, visitors given only 20 seconds glance. Sarah Jane said she almost felt sorry for her. But that’s another story (specifically, The Sarah Jane Adventures: Mona Lisa’s Revenge).

The Count Scarlioni was such a great collector of art; exceptional paintings, Ming Vases, Shakespeare first folios, Louis Quinze chairs. Shame he saw most of it as capital investment. But the most beautiful of his acquisitions was the Countess herself. Probably. Mind you, as he flounced around in tight-fitting leather, heavy eye make-up, or a loud silk dressing gown declaring ‘I am who I am’ one might suspect that, as a wife, the Countess was more decorative than functional. But I digress.

Leo never did complete the wall painting of Battle of Anghiari, though many have tried to recreate it, from his sketches like this one. There is much speculation in the Art World about where he was for a few months, and what happened to the original. You might think I know more about that than I’m telling — well, I couldn’t possibly comment (Big Finish’s Unbound: A Storm of Angels). I could answer all sorts of mysteries from your world’s history, but where would be the fun in that, hm?

My, my, is that the time? I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave our tour unfinished too, so until the next time: Bye bye everyone, bye bye!

Welcome, welcome, welcome! So few people find their way down here to the Under Gallery – and even fewer are allowed in! But you are a very discerning audience, probably.

There’s so much to see and so little time; art from the ancient beginnings of civilisation, art drawn on walls and floors, art carved in stone or hanging by a thread. There are children’s drawings and masterpieces of sophisticated science and technology. We have a charming little exhibit of everyday art – pub signs, posters and pin-ups, and the map room is a personal favourite. There’s a fine selection of Van Gogh; and the Leonardo da Vinci collection, quite frankly, borders on the obsessive. But let’s begin with the Portrait gallery – I do so love to revisit old faces, but just the favourites…

Follow me, and don’t wander off; who knows what dangers lurk behind some of these exhibits, and the shadows between – who knows?

The Portrait Gallery

You know, I’ve always been a bit of an art collector; I like to have some special pieces around me whenever I am. Take this Rembrandt, for example, pride of place above the mantelpiece (between Joshua Reynolds’ Portrait of Emma Hart and George Romney’s Lady Hamilton in a Straw Hat). One of many Rembrandt painted as an old man. Well; he thought he was old. Age is relative, don’t you think? I remember telling Sarah: “I was never much of a hand with a paint brush myself. Nor a palette knife for that matter. But I’d like to study under one of the masters one day. Rembrandt, preferably.”*

And while we’re on self-portraits, here’s dear Vincent; I should have accepted it, but the timelines around him were so fragile. A bit like Vincent himself. I wonder if we were a bit over the top, a bit too much. But then, as an old flame once said, ‘too much of a good thing can be wonderful.’**

I wonder if one can be said to collect friends and companions as one does art?

That’s odd; here’s a sketch by one of the greats, the head of a woman by Leonardo da Vinci, from Grace’s apartment. Should really be in the room dedicated to him – I must ask McGillop to have it moved. Some think it’s a sketch for a later painting of St Anne or the Madonna, both believed by some to be virgin mothers, their children human on one side only. Those first few hours after a regeneration are crucial; one can be very impressionable, leads to all sorts of nonsense.

From the very delicate, we move to the brash – what is it about megalomaniacs that they need giant pictures of themselves to remind them who they are when there’s no one looking? But then, Van Statten was rather forgettable without it. Mind you, Henry VIII wasn’t as dominating as his picture either. Surprisingly good at the shot-put as I remember.

The less said about this one the better; at least he wasn’t a giant cactus!

Ah, Max Capricorn: do you know his tooth really did that ‘ting’ thing? Some people cause only sadness around them; their pictures should be a warning.

You know, there was a rather curious portrait in No. 10 that time the Slitheen moved in; it kept moving about. Or perhaps they had multiple copies of it. All those pictures of previous Prime Ministers on the walls of No. 10 staircase are a warning too, but nobody listens. Ah well; each generation must be allowed to make its own mistakes. Unless there are children crying.

That reminds me of Liz 10 – quite the character. We have a few pictures of her predecessors.

Unlike her male colleagues, Elizabeth I made rather less of herself in portraits, though this one of and her groom was done in rather a hurry. From memory. Brief memory. Sometimes, one has to make a swift exit, I find.

Victoria was a rather more indomitable woman – she would have got on well with Iraxxa. Elizabeth II is rather less severe; she popped in here the day after her Diamond Jubilee, to keep an eye on everything, take tea and scones. She makes marvellous raspberry jam. The Brigadier’s portrait of her commemorates one of her earlier jubilee celebrations. That was quite an experience for him too, poor fellow. Still, it all worked out in the end.

Do keep up at the back there! Yes, young man, what were you asking, ‘do we have any kings’? Well, you might count this young fellow.

We do have a King’s mistress, who was quite enchanting in real life, unlike her portrait here from the ship Mme de Pompadour. Quite stopped my hearts for a while. What would the younger, stuffier me have said?

Ahh! Talk of the devil! Well, he only ever pretended to be gruff and irascible. Never could pull it off. Here he is guarding the Osgoods’ safe. As they guard their home planet.

What’s that you said – ‘what a magnificent head’? Well, I’m only a humble curator, who am I to say? It is a bit rough and primitive – like the young lady I met there, or so I thought. One should never underestimate savages; the ones I left Steven with were exceptional artists; evidence of the power their rulers had stolen from them.

Shall I tell you a secret? It was the TARDIS who gave me the idea to become a curator. She chose the artworks which disguised her auxiliary power centre. Here’s Castellan Spandrell observing her selection (dreadful little man, made ‘obsequious’ a high art) – do you know the painting? Often called the Arnolfini Wedding, as Van Eyck’s witness statement ‘I was here’ rather implies, though there are many interpretations. Do look it up. Just a few hours later, dear Leela was to go off to marry young Andred. The old girl was trying to tell me something.

I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the way people come and go; maybe some portraits have a purpose beyond memory, however. Take this one of Anne Waterfield; supposedly the spit and image of her daughter Victoria, bait to lure young Jamie to her rescue. Rather ‘Lucien Freud-ish’ for my taste, and totally inappropriate for 1866 of course.

While we’re thinking of Jamie, how can we resist the Jamie’s Face’ game? Can you pick out Hamish , Jamie, David and Dougie?

Zoe made a rather prettier subject; here she is having a wonderful time with a young friend Isabelle while Tobias Vaughn and the Cybermen were plotting to take over the earth. They never learn, do they? It looks fun on the surface, but captures that niggling longing for a normal life that most habitual travellers feel from time to time.

I’m sure you remember Amy did professional modelling for a while; in this one, I think she was trying to embody that wild freedom her daughter always managed. But there’s such sadness in her eyes, don’t you think? Travel, especially in the fourth dimension, has its costs. Ironic really, that the first time she learned the word petrichor (the name of the perfume she’s advertising) it was closely followed by the word ‘joy.’

Ace doesn’t look too joyful here either; probably hated being put in that dress and hat. Rather partial to a hat, myself, but perhaps not that one. I have absolutely no memory of how that painting came about – perhaps she travelled without me for a while. I was so terribly proud of her, you know. I wonder if she knew?

Here’s another companion who travelled without me – I rather think she might be travelling still, who knows? Some portraits’ eyes follow you round the room, but hers, it’s like they inflate, have you noticed that? Young Rigsy created a rather more romantic tribute to her; drifted off as the TARDIS dematerialised, as transient as a leaf on the wind.

Tempus fugit for us too, my friends; and I’m not as young as I was. You must come again; there are so many more rooms to explore.

Until next time then, bye bye!

* The Time Warrior

** Mae West

Doctor Who loves masks. You have to look pretty hard to find a Who story with no masks at all, though many of them are monster costumes, latex, ageing make-up, or stuntmen in wigs. The show also boasts an unparalleled range or fabulous headgear, but that’s a whole other article.

However, if you narrow down the definition to characters wearing removable* masks which cover their face for some reason within the plot, it becomes more interesting. Why is that character wearing a mask? What’s the writer or director doing with it? And where is Who tipping a wink to other genres and ideas? Are the masks theatrical or conspiratorial, ritual or nefarious, for protection, power, disguise, or escape? Or are they just to frighten the kiddies? Let’s rummage through the costume cupboard and blow the dust off a few classic masks.

*So, sadly, I can’t count the glorious Bruce Purchase’s Cyborg headgear in The Pirate Planet.

Under the Surface

On top of the pile is the only Who story with Mask – sorry; masque – in the title. We’re firmly in mad underground cult territory here, ritual and anonymity being the surface reason for a masque. People’s personalities change when masked; just ask a primary school teacher or a police officer at a face-painted football crowd event. You think you can get away with stuff if no one knows who you are. Wherever there’s a mad cult in Who, there’s a mob of skulking mask-wearers. Usually with hoods and occasionally with concealed weaponry.

But as the mask in the title suggests, there’s a different story underneath. Under Mandragora’s gilded exterior is the age-old question, are you wearing the mask or is the mask wearing you? You put it on to gain its POWER and it eats you. Don’t try this at home.

In the end though, the story turns out to be not about a power-mad cult or even an alien like Azal, but an energy, an irresistible force pitted against an immovable object.

When the Doctor puts on a mask in this story (given to him for the masked ball) and does battle with the helix entity, it’s not accidental that he’s a lion; the king of any jungle he materialises in.

Disguise

No, I’m not counting companions dressing up as Robomen or whatever, or we’ll be here all day. Nor do I count doppelgängers, like Patrick Troughton and the Dodgy Mexican. I’m including only the use of specifically a face mask to assume a different identity. So the first story that leaps to mind features a doppelgänger, with two scantily-clad Sarah Suttons, much to many fans’ delight. But the mask-swapping assumed identity goes to the mad brother, capturing ‘our’ Nyssa while wearing the Doctor’s pierrot mask.

We’re in ‘masked ball farce’ territory here as much as murder-mystery, but a good day out was had by all.

Apart from Adric.

Wearing a Different Face

The Master: He has A Thing about latex. Seriously, that use of latex masks of his own face that he likes to force onto dead bodies so that the Doctor thinks it’s him and he can escape… It’s not Freudian at all, is it? Maybe he uses his own face masks to con himself that he can always escape death, provided he sacrifices someone else in his place. He’s at it from his first ever story, after the shoot-out with the yellow bus. He’s such a wonderfully theatrical villain: masks of comedy as well as tragedy suit him perfectly. So, when he dons a hood ostensibly for ritual purposes in The Daemons, it’s more a sort of cosplay. Its the chanting he can’t resist. The less sense he makes, the happier he is.

On that note, let’s fly swiftly through Time-Flight territory here – the mask he’s been chanting under for so long was one of his more convincing disguises in realisation, if not in motivation. It fooled me, possibly because my mind was so distracted by trying to work out what on earth it was all supposed to be about. If anything.

The Doctor: Usually his disguises involve cross-dressing as a Domestic, but that moment in Deep Breath where he nicks the Master’s idea and turns is 180 is superb. And not a little gross too. Wearing the actual face of one of Clara’s captors and flinging it aside with flair at The Perfect Moment. ‘That’s how you disguise yourself.’

Here’s a bit of trivia: the mask is actually of Matt Smith, so Capaldi is literally ripping off the face of his predecessor.

Others stealing faces: Another famous latex face is Julian Glover’s magic mask in City of Death. The compression technique that got all that green spaghetti underneath the Count’s face must have given the Foamasi in The Leisure Hive the idea. Maybe he got it from Raxacoricofallipatorius.

A special mention here for The Mind Robber; the ‘Assemble Jamie’s Face’ game isn’t strictly a mask, but results in Jamie wearing someone else’s face for an episode. And behaving a little differently. A nice take on the mask wearing you.

Mask of Horror

The nightmare fodder of ‘Something Else wearing the face of a loved one’ is at the heart of the classic image of android Sarah being unmasked. It’s even more scary when Zygon Harry takes a pitchfork to Sarah. Somehow, Plastic Mickey in Rose doesn’t have quite the same impact.

So let’s plunge fearlessly into the darker shadows of Who history, where masks are definitely there to scare…

The series of face-coverings in The Deadly Assassin Matrix are plot device threats; the Doctor doesn’t know who or what is trying to deal with, so he’s ‘in the dark,’ powerless compared to his pursuer. The enemy is more frightening because you can’t see his expression or identity; it’s harder to fight an enemy you don’t know and can’t read. And it retains the mystery of whodunnit.

The Idiot’s Lantern‘s faceless, expressionless ‘masks’ are eerie for the same reason as in The Deadly Assassin – we can’t read them. The painted on eyes in Image of the Fendahl or The Fires of Pompeii serve the same purpose – they hide real expression, keep us excluded, uninformed, on the back foot.

The classic mask covering the opposite of what it portrays is, of course, the Clown. They crop up in Deadly Assassin’s matrix nightmare, again in The Greatest Show in the Galaxy, and a classic Sarah Jane Adventure, Day of the Clown. A whole brilliant Big Finish season is built on it.

Clown faces are scary because they say one thing and do another. Shakespeare knew it well; ‘One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.’ The mask-wearing ‘baddies’ in The Beast Below are actually called Smilers – enough to make anyone suspicious.

The Host in Voyage of the Damned are brilliant masks – two sides in one single face. If you cover half and look at one side only, they tell a very different story. Here, the masks show duplicity – their creator’s ulterior motive.

Russell T Davies claimed they were inspired by The Robots of Death and you can definitely see where he’s coming from.

Are you my Mummy? No Dear; I’m David Maloney.

If we’re looking for masks that set out to scare, then David Maloney knew what he was doing. And Steven Moffat stole from the best.

Gas masks are scary, and their deceptive possibilities can be part of the plot. The general scariness of not knowing who – or what — is behind them makes The Empty Child/ The Doctor Dances so good. Are they removable? Yes, but only by nanogene magic. I’m on thin ice here. And no, Victorian diving-bell-type masks don’t count. The thing about gas masks, though, is that they refer to both the horrors of war, the countless collateral damage to civilians, but also the hidden threat they’re supposed to protect you from. The thing that could kill you is invisible.

Invisibility

The most common ‘invisible thing that can kill you’ in Doctor Who is radiation, so a few of the more – er – interesting facial coverings are brought out to protect the wearer from that deadly energy. The Terminus guards’ masks were intended to pick up on the Norse flavour of the whole thing – and, like the rest of the story didn’t quite work, were hot inside, and hard to speak through.

There’s an Invisible Man hint to the victim from The Faceless Ones, who you wish were faceless but, rather disturbingly, looks like a melting skull, so is sensitively swathed in bandages and hat. A mask created to protect the fragile public from seeing anything that might disturb them. There’s still that intrigue – we want to see inside, but we don’t – the same ‘peepo’ game little children enjoy. Things are always more scary if half-glimpsed and imagined, rather than fully revealed. The Ambassadors of Deaths’ final reveal of blobby blue horror beneath their helmets benefited from the slow build up.

Talking of invisible men: Omega. Can we count this one? I said the mask had to be removable, which this one was, with the help of a Two-Three manoeuvre, but it wasn’t covering a face; just an empty space.

For three episodes, it had been highlighted as a huge, glowery, imposing mask, with the biggest ‘who’s inside?’ lure. A beautiful rug-pulling moment there from writer and director. Haunted young me for weeks! At a deeper level, it’s another example of what happens when you create a powerful persona and believe your own propaganda. Politicians and demagogues beware.

Phantom Masks

No, not imaginary ones, but ‘of the Opera’ masks. Borrowed from the iconic story of a living ‘ghost,’ revenge, beauty and the beast, and tragedy. These kind of masks are a very fast short cut to a lot of meaning. They also manage to be scary, visually arresting, and can reveal more about the person wearing them than they conceal.

Greel’s medieval knight-style mask echoes his verbal ‘jousting’ with the Doctor, but belies the exact opposite of chivalry. It hides someone abusive, desperate, and actually falling apart behind it.

Sharaz Jek’s is much more complex. Superficially skull-like, referencing the fact he deals in death, drugs, and weapons. A deeply damaged person, seeing all in black and white, two sides to his traumtised personality too. The mask’s association with bondage is no accident, as he and Morgus play out their power games. Jek has taken the shame and anger he felt at his betrayal and disfigurement, and transformed it into a commanding identity. You can’t help but feel sorry for him when it is stripped away, his enemy/reason to go on already dead, his beautiful hostage dying, his base falling apart around him. His mask was his skin.

No wonder The Caves of Androzani always scores so high in polls. It has layers.

Alter-Ego

Koquillion: A spectacular mask just to frighten the kiddies, or to hide a much darker story underneath? Where on earth do we go with this potentially inappropriate tale of child abuse, fetishism, and attempted genocide? A deeply damaged man has compounded one deception on another, wreaked havoc he can’t amend. It’s like Bennett wants to be caught, he’s created such an obvious, OTT monster alter-ego. Again, it shows the use of masks to remove moral scruples, to allow yourself to do what would be unimaginable if people could identify you. ‘It wasn’t me – it was the monster.’ If only all abusers were so easily identified and unmasked.

Much more affecting is Barbara’s assumption that the pet is a monster; chosen by the vulnerable Vicky as perhaps able to protect her from another monster, or because it is a safe version of what frightens her. A teddy bear, in fact. Children’s programme my backside.

Cosplay

Ashildir’s highwayman mask in The Woman Who Lived. Well I’m barely convinced we can count this as mask – it’s costume. Yes, she’s using it as a fake identity, but there’s little attempt at actual anonymity here. It’s cosplay again. Maybe she and the Master had a fling at some point.

And while we’re on masks as costume choices, Lady Christina’s jewel-thief mask is only there so she can do the shampoo commercial reveal of long flowing hair thing. This was a cinematic story, complete with popcorn and eye-candy.

As to the Ghost’s mask in The Return of Doctor Mysterio… well, superheroes need a costume, or how would we recognise them? It’s there not so much to hide the ‘mild-mannered’ ordinary guy underneath, but to publicise the identity of the hero.

Androids in Masks

Talking of mild-mannered heroes, can I get away with including D-’you’re not as dumb as you look’-84 from The Robots of Death? Wearing the black mask of a Dum instead of the green of a Voc, so he could go about his detective duties unquestioned. Yeah, I know it’s the whole costume, not just the mask, but they’re so beautiful, and inscrutable. They press the same buttons in our psyche as the Clockwork droids.

The Girl in the Fireplace grandstands masks of beauty and Versailles style, lovingly crafted. The characters wearing them can remove them and are using them to disguise their real identity/nature/murderous purposes, to fit in anonymously at the Royal Court. Which says a lot about Court politics. They are particularly menacing because they are beautiful, smiling, and inscrutable. Other androids have worn masks to move amongst humans unaware, but none so beguiling as these. Contrast the Santas in The Christmas Invasion.

The mask used by the Tereleptils’ android in The Visitation was an interesting case – a cultural reference to Death, used to spread the plague. One of those claims on cultural tropes Doctor Who so likes to play with.

For My Next Trick

I’m going to cheat a little with the use of a helmet rather than mask as a tease or bluff. We saw Lynx remove his helmet – that peepo tease we enjoy so much – in The Time Warrior, long before Vader removed his in Jedi. But the director and writer fool us along with Sarah in The Sontaran Experiment. Under that helmet is revealed… Not Lynx! By Moffat’s era, we’d be calling that fan-trolling.

They play the same sort of trick in The Leisure Hive, using The Great Helmet of Cultural Significance as plot device, and to hide the Doctor under all those clones we’re supposed to think are Pangol. They even play the ball and cup game with Romana for a while – which one is the real Doctor under? By Silence in the Library, the white helmets that hide dark shadows add real spookiness to the game – who turned out the lights?

Mask Masterclass

The Beast Below brings together so many of these elements. Even before the titles we get the ‘Smilers’ being raging scowlers underneath; there to scare. Within the text, Liz 10 says her mask is so she can go about her realm incognito, a bit like Henry before Agincourt. Given she still flounces round with a bearing as regal as any coronation, I don’t think she has ‘anonymity’ in her toolkit, but it serves a purpose. Next, it serves as a plot device; being created specifically for her youthful face, but 300 years old, it tells the Doctor that Something is Going On.

Before all that though, the director is using it to create an air of mystery – what’s behind the mask? Who is that? Why a mask, and what is she up to? It gets viewers intrigued. For writers, there’s the visual short-cut of a particular kind of mask; it looks superficially a bit like a Venice Carnival mask, but has strong hints of the revolutionary mask in V for Vendetta or Mr Robot. A queen about to turn society upside down…

Finally, just like Mandragora, or any good story with masks to the fore, it signals that the whole story is not what it looks like on the surface.

A bit like Who itself; it wears many, many faces, and there’s always something else going on!

What’s your favourite Who mask, and did any scare you as a child? Let us know in the comments.

What? “More tasteless quiz questions?” I hear you cry. Ahh, but I know you can’t resist it; remember Gibbis’ school motto: “resistance is exhausting.”

Besides, we all need some encouragement in our continued incarceration; the Doctor has been here before us, but for much, much longer….

So here we go ‘once more, with fe’ – ok, maybe not. We’re not that stir-crazy. Not quite.

And here we are: the second part of our lockdown trilogy of quizzes.

How did you do with part one? Too easy? Too obscure? Or just too easy to argue the point – isn’t that what fandom is for? Here are some more to chew the fat over. Just as long as it’s not bat fat. Too soon? Sorry.