The Creature from the Pit
review


Holistic Review: Mere steps away from being an outright comedy, yet it also features an outstanding villain with a perfectly understandable wicked plan.


Growing up, I always viewed The Creature from the Pit as fun, but not great. I'm not really sure what led me to form that opinion, except perhaps that most of the action takes place in (and underneath) Adrasta's bachelorette pad, and most of the story consists of people just talking to each other. Looking at it critically, however, I found way more to love than I was expecting.

For me, the highlight of the story is Myra Frances, whose performance as Adrasta is absolutely riveting — I couldn't take my eyes off her whenever she was onscreen. She pitches her performance just right; it's larger-than-life without ever hitting OTT. As a result, Adrasta comes across as a woman who's completely in control, used to having her every whim obeyed, intelligent and analytical, and not easily deceived. Yet she's horrified by the very thought of having to confront the Creature, and she compensates with bluster and bursts of intense fury. Initially, Adrasta seems dangerous but potentially friendly, but as soon as Romana threatens to stand up to her, that friendly veneer slips to the point that, when Romana tries to get smart with her, Adrasta gives her a vicious slap in the face. It's fascinating to watch her get more and more desperate as her power slips away, and when she finally comes face-to-face with Erato, her terror is palpable. Adrasta also gets some depth because she's surprisingly straightforward and honest, except when it comes to the Creature. It's just a brilliant performance and, as far as I'm concerned, it launches Adrasta into the upper echelon of the villains the Doctor's faced. Frances breathes interesting nuances into every line she has, to the point that I wrote down a ridiculous number of great lines: "What's the shell screaming about?", "Stop it, you fool!", "Try the metal animal on it.", "What do you mean? What does he mean?", "So, all that ray has done, in fact, is to temper the original material.", "Liar! The creature can't talk without —", her "No!" when the Doctor decides to go after the Creature, "I meant the creature!", "Point the dog against the rock!", "Keep away from me! Aaah!", "You mustn't let that thing get me!", the delightfully insincere protest of "It's going to eat me!" (or does she really believe that?!), "If you do not, your friend Organon dies!", "It's a pack of lies!", and "That won't prove anything!" Even when she gets a corny line like "Perhaps a little demonstration will make you more cooperative", she's able to make it sound good. Frances is also a master of the reaction shot; witness the mounting apprehension on her face as the Doctor says "You realize what this means, Adrasta? It means a great green blob, several hundred feet long, is loose somewhere in these passageways. An angry green blob, a green blob you tried to kill." and her rage building as she clutches at her larynx, listening to Erato use her voice to condemn her. Besides all this, she gets an interesting costume, tough but feminine (although the breastplate is perhaps a little overemphasized), with a cool hat and striking metallic facial makeup. In every respect, she's a striking character, brought perfectly to life by a talented actress.

Another strength of The Creature from the Pit is its comedic script. David Fisher's always been a dab hand at comedy, but here he really goes all-out. There are times — many, many times — when The Creature from the Pit resembles a sitcom, with jokes flying at the rate of ten a minute. Impressively, the vast majority of them are very good, which results in a script that's highly quotable and an audience that's bouncing along with beaming smiles and the occasional bellylaugh. The contemporary folks who hated the show's new comedic bent must have really despised this, but it does make a great companion piece to its intelligently witty predecessor, City of Death. In fact, as it turns out, "The Creature from the Pit" isn't just an amusingly schlocky 50s B-movie-style title; it's a deliberately schlocky B-movie-style title. Witness these exchanges:

Any story that can poke fun at itself has an automatic place in my good graces. I also really get a kick out of the "Teach Yourself Tibetan" book, which is a hilarious sight gag.

The third element that I think helps to make The Creature from the Pit an above-average outing is its plot, which is refreshingly easy to follow, but not overly simplistic. Adrasta's motivations are fleshed out beautifully — as the heiress to the only metal mine on the planet, and all its contents, Adrasta is understandably eager to maintain her hold over Chloris' metal industry. When Erato comes along, promising change and prosperity and metal for everyone, Adrasta panicks and, in her greed and self-absorption, imprisons Erato before anyone else can find out about his offer. Clearly she's been unable to kill it before it kills her, so the moment an opportunity presents itself in the form of K-9, she seizes it and marches straight into the Pit to do away with Erato once and for all. It's just too bad for her that Erato is able to telepathically control its communications shield and mesmerize a group of marauding bandits to follow her down and help him expose the truth. While the ending feels slightly tacked-on, in fact it's a perfectly logical outgrowth of the plot, and it does a nice job of increasing the scope from merely "rescue the ambassador from one unreasonable jerk" to "save the entire solar system from destruction". At this point I should mention that the ending has come in for a fair deal of criticism from people who laugh at the mere idea of the words "neutron" and "aluminium" being used in the same sentence. For me, this also falls into the category of "things I know nothing about and can therefore easily believe". Besides, since David Fisher got the idea from professional astronomers, I'm willing to accept that they thought it was a good idea at the time, whether or not it's actually possible. (Sure, I don't understand why adding a metal shell would reduce density or gravity or whatever... but it doesn't bother me enough to ruin the story.) The only time when I felt like the story started to drag a bit was in part three, when everyone who's anyone goes down into the Pit; but the scenes with the Doctor and Erato help to keep things bouncing along.

In general, I'm really fond of the idea of a planet rich in plant life and deficient in metal. The jungle set, with its many frondy plants, definitely helps to sell the idea by giving the impression of a lush, humid region, particularly since the characters in it actually break a sweat. I'm not convinced that this concept has been thought through very thoroughly; I seem to recall other people questioning how a planet so deficient in metal could actually hold together. But at least there's some effort made to acknowledge the type of society that would form on a planet like that. Certainly the lack of metal is crucial to everything that happens throughout the story, rather than being a throwaway detail; even K-9, our metal companion, is put into mortal peril from people who want to hack him apart and melt him down. There's mention made of the fact that the people are permanently on the brink of starvation because they have to scavenge for food rather than being able to farm it (although one hopes, at least, that the abundant plant life means abundant wild fruits and vegetables), as well as the fact that few people are able to travel the world because of the prohibitive amount of time it takes to get from one place to the next.

After watching it, I tried to puzzle out some of the backstory. For example, it seems unlikely that Adrasta herself worked the mine out, given its size and her age; most likely her ancestors are the ones who mined out all the metal. I was trying to decide if this meant that her entire family had been as selfish and greedy as Adrasta is, but it seems likely that they had a natural monopoly that they didn't have to defend. It's only when Erato comes to Chloris, and threatens to upset the status quo, that Adrasta has to scramble to retain her position. I do wonder, though, how she makes her money? If there's a finite amount of metal, she's obviously not making any money from selling the ore. Which means that either she has a stockpile of metal ores lying around somewhere, she sells off her metal trinkets piece by piece, or she's living off her inheritance (which wouldn't be jeopardized by a trade agreement with Tythonus, so that can't be it). Another possibility: perhaps she makes money from renting out her metal equipment? It would make a lot more sense if the mine weren't worked out, but she couldn't get on with any mining because of the giant blob she'd put in the tunnels.

I also have to mention the cliffhangers, because I think The Creature from the Pit excels at them. The cliffhanger to part 1, as the Doctor flings himself into the Pit, is totally unexpected; we assume that surely he's going to try to find out more about the Pit and what lurks at the bottom before he goes throwing himself into danger. But no, in he dives, thus lopping great chunks of padding off the script and making the audience's jaws hit the floor. Erato's "attack" at the end of part two is great because the Doctor has been calmly trying to reason with the Creature for the past few minutes, and the tension during these scenes steadily mounts because we just don't know what Erato's reaction is going to be. When the great phosphorescent blob finally surges forward and overwhelms him, it's a frightening moment. But the prize goes to part 3, for its very unusual cliffhanger in which the villain's peril is used to hook us into coming back next week! What a brilliant move. Even better, Myra Frances' screams of terror really sell it; you can't wait to find out what's going to happen that has her so petrified!

For me, this story is also noteworthy as Lalla Ward's first performance (in recording order) as Romana. Coming on the heels of City of Death, in which she is cuteness incarnate, this story sticks out like a sore thumb. In retrospect, it's clear that the story was written for Mary Tamm's version of the character, and Lalla is trying her very best to match up. Nowhere is this more apparent than the excellent scene in which Romana saves herself from the bandits with nothing much more than self-confidence, as she effortlessly takes control of the situation while tied to a post. While it's interesting to watch "Mary-Tamm-as-played-by-Lalla-Ward", and while Lalla's version of Romana can, in general, be just as regal and haughty as her predecessor, for some reason this attempt doesn't quite work. Lalla's Mary Tamm impression falls somewhere between both stools — not entirely superior ice-queen, not entirely playful noblewoman, but a subdued version of both. Some of her line deliveries are decidedly odd — upon seeing the "eggshell", she spits, "What is that thing?" as if it's offended her, or shown up uninvited to a dinner party with mud on its shoes. In fact, she seems to spend much of the story scoffing at everything. Even her appearance feels slightly off. Her dress is pretty, particularly the pink ruffled hems, but it feels more like a Tamm glamour-queen costume than a Ward playful-girly costume, while her hairstyle is somewhat unflattering. I'm just relieved that she took off the horrid striped smock that she was wearing at the very start! However, her silver boots are very cool. Despite the oddities from this being her first story, Lalla is as watchable as always, and gets in some great line deliveries as well. One of my favorites is her fierce "No, I'm simply telling you that everything you want to know is locked up in K-9's memory banks. Damage them and you won't learn a thing!" and the hilarious "Well, we don't want several hundred cubic feet of angry blob heaving itself round the country crushing people!"

Also making his début is David Brierly as the new voice of K-9. It's a very good attempt, although his version of K-9 lacks some of the charm of Leeson's. Where Leeson's K-9 is more smug, Brierly's is prissy, and at times sounds like a cranky old man. I like his annoyed "Coming, Mistress. ...Coming!"

The humor quotient of this story is, of course, a natural fit for Tom Baker, who gets in almost as many good lines as Myra Frances. These include "It's alive. The shell.", "Have you seen my assistant, Romana! ROMANA!", "Hello, commander.", "Ooh, it travels.", "Oooooh, other side!", "Yeeeeeh." when he gets mine-slime on his hand, "No, no, no." when Organon asks if Adrasta was afraid of him, "You've got beautiful skin.", "Oh, please! You put that very crudely!", and the charming (if grammatically wonky) "She's tipped the ambassador into a pit and threw astrologers at him!" He's also really good at single-handedly carrying a double-hander with a character that can't speak; namely, his "conversations" with Erato in the Pit, which are really entertaining. I love the way the Doctor speaks to Erato with 95% confidence that it can understand him.

The Creature from the Pit is the second story to feature both Eileen Way and flaming skulls. What fun to see her back in the cast, and there are times when Karela really looks like Old Mother. Sadly she doesn't get a lot to do, but it's fun to see her as Adrasta's right-hand woman, cold-hearted and scheming; and it's certainly unusual to see such a role filled by a woman over 40. Bravo Eileen! I like her delivery on "What were you doing in the Place of Death?", "If I say you're made of tin, you horrible little animal, you're made of tin." and "There's another six inches to add to your collection, old man."

In part two, we're introduced to yet another delightful character: Organon, Adrasta's court astrologer. Aside from Geoffrey Bayldon's utterly charming performance, Organon himself is a delight, upbeat yet timid, and confident in his abilities yet more than a little self-deprecating and willing to allow for "slight" inaccuracies in his predictions. I love that he doesn't take himself too seriously, and he and the Doctor bounce off one another beautifully. Organon really gets most of the story's best lines, which I'll be quoting below. Bayldon does a hilarious little hand-waving flourish as Organon demonstrates his style of prophesying, and I love his delivery of "Wait for me!" and "I don't think that's at all funny."

Blossoming late in the story is Adrasta's Huntsman (David Telfer), who turns out to be an ethical fellow after all, much like many fairy-tale huntsmen. (Goodness, Adrasta is an awful lot like a Wicked Queen, isn't she? All she needs is a poisoned apple.) It's not a terribly memorable role, but the Huntsman is an interesting character, and it's nice to see him transition from "background heavy" to a man who's willing to support the Doctor and do the right thing. Also... how to put this... there's one scene in which his apparently skin-tight uniform highlights his physique in an, ah, unexpectedly flattering way. (Or, to put it another way: the Doctor would have no trouble trying to communicate with him.) Good on ya, sir! Adrasta's engineers, Tollund (Morris Barry) and Doran (Terry Walsh), have more limited screentime but are still a hoot. Tollund has the "self-inflated academic" bit down perfectly.

Although the bandits play an important role in the story, they feel like the weak link. Perhaps it's because they're clearly playing it for laughs, so the acting never quite sells the performances. This is particularly an issue in the case of Torvin (John Bryans); for example, witness the moment when K-9 stuns him, and before collapsing insensate, he checks behind him to make sure there's a soft place to land. As questionable as the "dumb thieves" characterization is, their simple-mindedness does lead to some good moments. It's funny to watch them get all excited, despite the lack of any visible results, as they try to blow through the dog whistle. (The one who blows through the keyring is particularly amusing.) I also really like the scene in which they raid Adrasta's palace; the sound of them piling metal objects into their sacks takes me back to childhood, for some reason!

We haven't had many monsters like Erato in Doctor Who. Aside from his enormous size — he must rank up there with Kroll and the new-series Macra as the largest monsters in the show — it was a great idea to make the Tythonian ambassador a giant blob. When your monster can't see, or talk, it makes it that much harder to reason with, and that much more frightening. The design is great; his translucent skin looks really cool up-close, and the green glow makes the mine scenes very atmospheric. It was also a clever idea to create a monster that hijacks other people's voice boxes, so it can be voiced by different members of the cast; there's some money saved! (Although they probably had to spend so much building the thing that it ate up whatever budget they saved on one fewer voice actor.) The detail that he can spin pure metal from his body is also really interesting, and makes the Tythonians seem like an intriguing race. What's really awesome is that our expectations of Erato are turned on their head when we learn that, actually, he can talk and is quite civilized, as long as he's got his communicator. (You do wonder, though, why — after trundling over the first 25 people didn't enable him to communicate with them — he just kept right on trying. Apparently he's either stupider than he looks, stubborn to a fault, or alarmingly conscience-free.) Granted, we were never really likely to perceive Adrasta as the victim of this relationship, despite her protestations, but it's an interesting twist when Erato turns out to be generally a misunderstood nice guy. Yet it's not as though Erato is perfectly innocent himself; true, he's on the side of good, but he's not against keeping some secrets either. I like that; it makes him feel more realistic and well-rounded. And, okay, so as an adult, it's hard to ignore the fact that the Doctor appears to be blowing air down Erato's nether regions, but I certainly never noticed that as a child.

Christopher Barry's direction is good, if not stunning. He films Erato very well, hinting at the size of the monster while only showing bits (sometimes the naughty ones) and pieces. In particular, I love the long-shot of the Doctor and Organon dwarfed beside the monster's bulk, which does a great job of putting it into perspective, and the shot of our gang talking to Erato at the door of Adrasta's lair, while another part of him covers a window on the other wall. Nicely done. There's also a great shot of Adrasta chatting with Romana while considering her reflection in a mirror (a luxury that surely most of Chloris does not have). A couple of shots that aren't entirely successful occur when characters are standing in front of Erato; apparently the costume wasn't quite big enough to fill the screen, so a different shot of Erato's skin is superimposed over the top third of the frame. It's not very noticeable, but it's not exactly seamless either.

Effects are hit-and-miss in this story. Aside from Erato (which, for me, is a hit; I think the green glow largely compensates for any shortcomings the costume might have), we've got several video effects, including Erato weaving a door over one of the cave entrances (which looks better at the start, as a bunch of circles, than it does as wavy lines), Erato's drawing of the communicator (which, painfully, is obvious in full before any of it starts "officially" lighting up) and Erato spinning an aluminum web around the neutron star (which I think looks fine). The effect of K-9's ray heating up the door-shell in the Pit isn't bad, and I really like the design of Erato's communicator with its dancing lights. Best of all are the Wolfweeds, which are frightening and convincing, even though you don't know what they actually do to people, apart from covering them in some sort of webbing. Particularly effective is the way they launch themselves at people, as in the moment when they attack Adrasta.

I have more childhood recollections of this story than I'd realized. K-9 getting engulfed by Wolfweeds made me very nervous, a feeling echoed by Romana's plaintive "K-9! K-9!" I also vividly recall the Doctor getting smothered by Erato (and the way he keeps insisting "Friend!" which I always thought was kind of silly). Episode 1 is also noteworthy for me in being, as far as I can remember, one of the very last (if not the last) episodes that I ever saw on PBS, during a trip with my mother to Salt Lake City sometime between 1997 and 2002. In fact, now that I think about it, it was the same weekend that I discovered Father Ted, although that doesn't help me date it any more precisely. I hadn't expected to find Doctor Who on TV, and in fact I think I had just left the TV on PBS in vague hopes, so it was a pleasant surprise when this came on. (Try as I might, I don't think I ever figured out when to tune in for parts 2 through 4! If I was even in town that long.)

Minor points:

A very solid story in characterization, plot and dialogue. I suspect that the reason it tends to fare so poorly in fan circles is a combination of Erato's design and the fact that it doesn't take itself so seriously. But for me, this was a major re-evaluation, to the point that I even started to think that it would be a great story to show a newbie. Thanks, Myra Frances!


Back to The Creature from the Pit.

Back to the episode guide.