Holistic Review: Perplexingly, both the design and the performances sometimes undermine the script, but if you can just go with the flow, this is a delightfully subversive tale with some memorably quirky fantasy elements.

The Happiness Patrol is one of relatively few high-concept stories from the classic run of Doctor Who, but it's such a brilliant idea that you wonder why the show never did it before. A planet on which sadness is outlawed is just a gold mine for rich storytelling and imaginative plotting, and overall, The Happiness Patrol utilizes it superbly, thinking through the issue logically and presenting a wide variety of consequences and backlash to the idea. Filling out the plot is the logical extrapolation that a planet founded along such lines would naturally be a rather totalitarian régime, which of course this most manipulative of Doctors would have to bring crashing down overnight. It's a bit of a thrill to see the Doctor and Ace apply themselves so gleefully to this task, which ought to be impossible, but which they carry out while barely even breaking a sweat. Now, there's a whole lot to love about The Happiness Patrol, but the plot moves along at such a brisk pace that a lot of things feel underdeveloped or unexplained, and as I mentioned above, the entire premise comes across as flawed because the design and performances fail to really sell it. So there's good and bad to discuss, but, as you well know, happiness will prevail. And in this case, I think the ultimate message makes the getting-there completely worthwhile.

Much has been made of the set design in other reviews: namely, are the obvious façades a hindrance to believability or a clever bit of symbolism? Personally, I rather like them, although I have to agree that between the painted flats and the obvious studio floor, my belief is not quite as suspended as it could be. But the bigger problem, I think, is that on a planet where unhappiness is forbidden and dark colors are practically the sign of Satan (such that even the navy-blue TARDIS must immediately be repainted pink, although Ace somehow manages to avoid instant execution), Helen A lets her buildings be faded and shadowy, and her lampposts and benches are permitted to be black. (She also allows black balloons at executions, and black clothing on the condemned!) If I had to pick a word to describe the city (outside of Helen A's quarters and the Kandy Kitchen), that word would most definitely not be anything along the lines of bright, fun or happy. It would be dark, dingy or depressing. So, even though people would have decried it as just another instance of JN-T stories being garish and overlit, surely this is the one story in which that would have been the most appropriate course of action to take? Garish and overlit is exactly what Terra Alpha ought to be; then the heavy-lidded killjoys and the dark-cloaked drones would have stood out more, as a blight on the landscape, rather than looking as though they fit right in. However, I'm trying to be lenient, because this story does take place at night, and everything looks darker and dingier at night.

Likewise — and this is the one I find harder to explain away — it would be more effective if we could see some people at least trying to comply with Helen A's policies. As filmed, it looks like the entire planet has given up hope and is just waiting to be gunned down. Nobody on Terra Alpha seems to be even the slightest bit happy. I mean, I know that's the whole point, but even the Happiness Patrol? They're supposed to be the very models of perky and beaming, but they're all snarly and grumpy to the last woman. (Ironically, Susan Q comes across as the happiest of the lot. She may be down in the dumps, but she's not aggressive about it.) It's kind of like how on Traken, nobody was actually all that nice. It doesn't really help to sell your concept when there isn't even a single visible example of the society you're claiming your planet has. Actually, that's not quite true; there is one person who manages to sell this concept, and that's Sheila Hancock. Helen A is constantly smiling and sweet, even when she's furious, except for the rare moment of unguarded rage as events begin to spiral out of her control. But Daisy K is accusatory and predatory, and Priscilla P is fanatical and deranged. Neither of them smiles very much at all, and when they do, it's a cruel smile, certainly not a happy one. You have to wonder why the Happiness Patrols don't all finish each other off!

The other objection I mentioned is the plot; namely, the way it jumps around in order to get us to the dénouement. Sometimes it seems like things are happening just because Graeme Curry decided they should, rather than taking the time to establish any logical transitions. To give a few examples... the Doctor decides that their first course of action in bringing down Helen A is to get arrested. This they manage to do with relatively little difficulty, but what does it actually do for them? The only plot advancement is that they meet Harold V and learn a little more about the background of Terra Alpha. Aside from that, they stand around in the waiting zone for a while, and then, at the first chance they get, they escape. This serves no useful function other than to make them wanted criminals marked for death, when if they'd never been arrested in the first place, they would have been able to explore the city relatively unimpeded. More crucially, the Doctor proclaims his intention to topple Helen A's empire, but what does he actually do that contributes to this goal? The things that actually bring down her régime are: the drones rebelling and pulling down her sugar factories; the infighting and dismantling of the Happiness Patrol; her husband leaving her for another man; and Fifi's death. One would think that revealing the truth about her "routine disappearances" would be the most effective way of exposing Helen A, but the Doctor never bothers spreading the word about this, and Trevor Sigma already seems to be perfectly aware of Helen A's methods, or at the very least her results, and he's not particularly inclined to hold it against her. So we're left with the aforementioned steps, and the Doctor's involvement in them seems to be minimal. The drones were rebelling anyway, and we don't know what gave them the idea to band together to destroy the factories. (The Doctor somehow manages to send word to the group in the city that they need to join him for a happy fun party; does he also suggest factory-razing to them at the same time?) At any rate, they go off and do it on their own, without the Doctor's help. He does play a bit of a role in turning the Happiness Patrol against each other, but you get the impression that Daisy K and Priscilla P would have gotten there on their own anyway. Joseph C's decision to abandon Fifi and steal Helen A's shuttle is totally unmotivated, although we can surmise that he was happy to escape from Helen A at the first chance he got, and as he appears to hear the sugar collapsing in the tunnels, perhaps he guessed that Fifi wouldn't be coming back. (Why he chooses to partner up with Gilbert M, though, is anybody's guess. Maybe Gilbert is the one who built the shuttle?) Finally, Fifi's death is the one thing that the Doctor can truly claim to be directly responsible for. So, basically, he topples an empire by murdering the empress' beloved family pet and making her cry. This seems to give the Doctor more credit for the results than he deserves, and it also makes him sound like a total jerk.

So those are my criticisms out of the way; now let's turn to what really works well in this story. (There's a lot!) First of all, I really like the way that Terra Alpha feels like a well-thought-out place. Curry has clearly put a lot of thought into this society, and the logical ramifications of laws governing emotions. As he takes pains to point out, Helen A's attempts to make everyone happy consist of artificial things, like soulless music, unending sweets, and continual assurances that they live in a happy place, really they do. But in truth, everyone living there — Helen A included, no matter what she tries to tell herself — experiences the full gamut of emotions; some just hide it better than others. What I really like is that the people Helen A labels "killjoys" don't think of themselves as such. It's not that they want to be Debbie Downer, they just need their space to feel sad or grieve, but they're not trying to suck the fun out of life like Helen A seems to think they are.

Other aspects of the society are equally interesting. It makes sense that Terra Alpha would shun the idea of dreary, lonely prisons, preferring instead to use "waiting zones" maintained with deadly force. The opening scene with the "killjoy" is also nice in that we can see that, for all that the natives are tired of life on Terra Alpha and sometimes just want to let it all end (interesting, isn't it, that Helen A's "be happy or else" mantra has actually made much of her subjects suicidal?), when push comes to shove, they really don't want to die. I also like the anti-male gender bias on the planet, which is perhaps to be expected when the ruler of the planet and her entire enforcing squad are all female. It's a nice touch, and not overplayed; the only really direct nod is the sniper's comment that the women get the best guns. Oh, and there's the awesome ritual Alphan exchange of "I'm glad" followed by "I'm happy you're glad!" Love it.

Despite my complaining about the dreary exteriors and openly-grouchy Alphans, it's not the case that everything on Terra Alpha is grim. Aside from their personalities, the Happiness Patrol have awesome uniforms, and their hair, in particular, is really spectacular. You have to admit, it does give you a lift to see a roomful of women with pink-and-purple hair. Not to mention those sparkly red eyelashes. Now and then we also get a building with a pleasant daub of pink on the exterior, and the bright hot-pink TARDIS is certainly a blast of color (and a surprisingly enjoyable change).

After his clever manipulation of the Daleks in Remembrance, The Happiness Patrol is where the Doctor's vengeance-demon-like crusading really seems to take off. Based on nothing more than vague whispers of people going missing on Terra Alpha, the Doctor rides into town not to investigate and see what's going on, but with the stated intention of toppling the entire government overnight. Which, having found out that the rumors were indeed true, he promptly does. I know some people don't like this characterization of the Doctor as practically a vigilante, as opposed to a peripatetic wanderer, but I think it makes for a really fun change to see the Doctor, for once, on the offensive. And this modus operandi works particularly well with Ace, who has always been that sort of proactive character anyway; together, the two of them make a formidable team, hunting down trouble like an especially aggressive pair of heat-seeking missiles. The Doctor essentially spends the entire story manipulating everyone, from Priscilla P (getting her to leave them unsupervised), the Kandy Man (getting him to stick himself to the floor with lemonade, then tricking him into diverting the fondant execution before adhering him to the floor again!), and the entire Happiness Patrol (making it impossible for them to execute him or his friends: "All except Susan Q and Ace, who are happy to see me!") to Helen A herself. His one less-than-successful moment is his very fake-looking fake laughter, although as the Doctor himself is acting, I suppose it's not meant to look realistic; and it does do an excellent job of subverting the Happiness Patrol's murderous intent. However — and I feel bad saying this — I hope McCoy sticks to the acting rather than the singing, because for some reason I'm none too fond of his rendition of As Time Goes By (although I think it's mainly the last line, as the rest isn't bad at all, and I can actually remember trying to track the song down when I was younger).

I'm just a sucker for Sophie Aldred's Ace, who I always find thoroughly enjoyable. She's so fiesty and unintimidated, and I love the way that when Priscilla P makes tasteless jokes about Harold V's death, Ace's knee-jerk response is to bodyslam her and tackle her to the ground, plus probably some pummelling. Her teeth are clearly on edge from Terra Alpha's phony sweetness throughout the story, and her conversation with Susan Q makes it clear that she's not only annoyed, she's also hopelessly out of her depth on this planet, given that she's not very good at hiding her true feelings and she tends to prefer songs with depressing endings. (Good thing Helen A doesn't have anything against dinosaurs, as far as we know, or Ace would really be in trouble.) She gets some really nice characterization in this story, notably her whining at the Doctor to let her have a crack at defusing the bomb in the go-kart... can you imagine any other companion doing that? (Having said that, this story also feels tailor-made for Mel, who could have been in it if Bonnie had only been willing to stick around for a couple more stories! How's about Mel trying out for the Happiness Patrol, eh? She and Ace would have been a really interesting team and a study in contrasts on Terra Alpha.) However, it appears that Ace has not gotten her spoon-playing skills from the Doctor's tutelage.

Top honors for this story must surely go to Sheila Hancock, whose performance as Helen A is absolutely pitch-perfect. As I've already mentioned, she alone is able to sell the "happy all the time" concept, which is kind of funny since she's the only person on the planet (probably) who wouldn't be executed if she did seem sad once in a while. But it just goes to show that Helen A is totally committed to her cause and really believes that everyone should be happy at all times, so it's not like she's imposing weird rules on her planet just for kicks. Her capacity for self-delusion is just amazing; not only does she deny the power of emotions like sadness and even love (which is surely one of the happiest things in the universe, although potentially one of the saddest as well, which is probably why she ignores it), but she refuses to acknowledge the evidence under her very nose that her reign on Terra Alpha is crumbling, even as she packs to flee the planet. She gives so many great line readings: "Not quite the very top, I hope, Silas P?", "Delicious! My favorite!", and her vitriolic "Oh, I know they laughed sometimes, but they still cried, they still wept!" And I love the way she dotes on that horrid Fifi, who is a wonderful creation in its own right. It moves with surprising realism, and there's a great shot of Fifi racing through the pipes after Ace and company.

Very close seconds have to go to the Kandy Man, and more specifically, David John Pope's inspired performance. Without even the possibility of facial acting (it all relies on his mouth and his body movements), he puts everything he's got into the vocal aspect, and the result is a total success. The Kandy Man sounds like part sullen child, part misunderstood genius, and part delusional psychopath. It's a mesmerizing performance and you can't take your, um, ears off him when he's onscreen. The visual effects people also deserve a lot of credit for his design, which looks like a very convincing meld of candy and robotics, held together with crystallized syrup, and topped with those awesome whirling eyes. I really don't think he bears all that much resemblance to Bertie Bassett, particularly because the only allsort-y parts of him are his head, torso and fingers; there's a lot of humbug and stick candy in there too.

My other favorite character is Susan Q, played by the talented Lesley Dunlop, who I would love to see return in the new series. Her disenchantment with the Happiness Patrol is well-played, and Susan Q seems like a really sweet girl, so I have no doubt she'll be a much better leader for Terra Alpha than pretty much anyone else we meet on the entire planet. Her line "Yeah, no more lift music!" is the only unconvincing one of the bunch; otherwise I just think she's great.

For all that they've risen to the top of the ranks, Daisy K (Georgina Hale) and Priscilla P (Rachel Bell) are both practically begging to be fun-gunned down in the streets. Daisy K sounds constantly angry and most definitely not full of joie de vivre ("You don't look like locals. In fact, you look like killjoys!") and Priscilla P comes across as a bitter and wistful psychopath. Silas P (Jonathan Burn) also seems to be a little too serious to survive (though I'm sure it does make him more credible with the killjoys, which perhaps is why Helen A suffers him to live), and ultimately this is indeed his downfall. I'm kind of surprised that Daisy K is so trigger-happy that she'll gleefully off one of Helen A's most favored killjoy hunters just because he's looking a little dazed, but I guess that's the Happiness Patrol for you. I think she and Priscilla P are both just desperate to kill people, no matter who! (Do you suppose the Doctor feels any guilt for essentially causing Silas P to be murdered?) Anyway, going back to when Silas P was still alive, I do love the way that when he's introducing himself to the Doctor, Burn smoothly transforms his "handshake" gesture into a "sit down" gesture! And Silas is surprisingly honest with the Doctor... assuming that what he says is true, he spills a lot of dirt about Helen A in an attempt to get the Doctor executed. Maybe he figures nobody will live long enough to pass on what he's blabbed?

Helen A's relationship with Joseph C is an interesting one. They certainly seem to care for one another, although I think we can assume that Helen A's priorities lie very firmly elsewhere, and Joseph C knows it, although he never once rolls his eyes at her or breathes a deep sigh of annoyance. They seem to be content together, at least up until Joseph abruptly ditches her (and isn't Helen A surprised by that? Probably less because she's convinced of their mutual love, and more because she's astonished that anyone would defy her wishes.). I am amused by the scene in which Joseph C watches what is apparently a VHS tape of "Routine Disappearance #499,987", although it's rather odd that Helen A turns that off but allows him to watch the executions of both Harold V and his brother (Andrew Z, isn't it? Do I remember the novelization correctly?). Maybe she's just trying to keep the Happiness Patrol "disappearances" off his radar, but I don't see the difference between the street-roaming firing squads and her precious fondant surprise. At any rate, Ronald Fraser is sweet in the role, and makes Joseph C likeable in a totally-henpecked kind of way. But why doesn't the poor man rate a B? Is he just not special enough to Helen A? Or perhaps he usually is Joseph B, but he forgot their anniversary this year and she's downgraded him.

Earl Sigma is also a highlight of the story, although I'm not sure Richard D Sharp is the strongest actor. Earl is still a likeable character, and the idea of a blues player on a planet of fake smiles is pretty inspired. I'm not sure what purpose his psychology degree was supposed to have, though, unless it's meant to help him run counseling sessions for all the traumatized residents of Terra Alpha after the revolution! Earl is surprisingly blasé about being found out by the Happiness Patrol; maybe he has some kind of immunity as a visitor, or maybe the law requires him to be caught red-handed, but he waits until the Happiness Patrol are practically on top of him before he switches from blues to something up-tempo. Our other foreign visitor is Trevor Sigma, played by John Normington, who is an amusingly straight-laced civil servant, and who seems to get along surprisingly well with Helen A, to the point that he seems to be ignoring the obvious answer to the question of why the population is decreasing. (He's also allowed to stay and watch Susan Q's execution, which both emphasizes the trust that Helen A has in him, and reinforces the point that there's no way he wasn't aware of her "population control" methods.) I'm not really sure the Doctor ever manages to get through to him, but Trevor does at least provide the Doctor with some help and some hard numbers, and it's pretty funny to watch the Doctor turn the tables on him and get him to answer the questions.

Finally, we've got the Pipe People, played by Philip Neve (Wences) and Ryan Freedman (Wulfric). To be sure, they're quite difficult to understand, but they're also rather cute. You definitely want to cheer for them in their attempts to get their planet back. Rounding out the minor characters, there are the two snipers, played by Steve Swinscoe and Mark Carroll, and the Forum doorman played by Tim Scott. The snipers, in keeping with Happiness Patrol philosophy, spend the entire time grousing about their job (yet neither one aims his gun at the other), and the Forum doorman is clearly a cranky, ticked-off dude with no patience or people skills. Not to diminish the actors' skill, because they're all three entertaining characters, but good heavens, couldn't at least one of them crack a smile?

I've talked a bit about the somewhat-unsuccessful set design of the exteriors, but I haven't yet mentioned how effective the interiors are, most especially the Kandy Kitchen. For some reason, the monochrome design actually does manage to look cheery (although you have to imagine that Helen A would have been happier if the decorative designs both here and in her inner sanctum were done in something like cherry red) and the set is full of so many interesting details, with constantly-moving shadows being cast on the walls, that it's quite a visual treat.

Another thing that is very definitely not a liability is Dominic Glynn's incidental music, with a haunting bluesy harmonica which fits the story perfectly. I'm trying to think of the right words to describe how the music makes me feel (the answer is most definitely not "a pleasant melancholy"), and the best way I can think of to put it is that it captures the emotions of the people on Terra Alpha, and functions as the counterpoint to the fake jollity seen on-screen. There's just something really appropriate about it, and in my opinion, it was an ideal choice of styles, very well composed.

Relatively few effects this time out. All we really have to speak of are the go-kart (hilariously slow) and the scene of the emergency shuttle taking off from Terra Alpha (not badly done at all). Chris Clough's direction is okay, perfunctory if not razzle-dazzle, although there is a very nice shot of the drones throwing off their black cloaks as the Doctor's (pitiful but sweet) party favor rains down on them from above.

And now we get to the rich chocolate center. The next-to-last scene is surely one of my favorites in all of Doctor Who, as the Doctor confronts Helen A while she attempts to tuck her tail between her legs and flee from her utter defeat. She rails against the society that failed to appreciate her benevolent guidelines, and she scorns the mere idea of crying — and, surprisingly, love, which she considers to be overrated. All her adult life, apparently, she's strived to achieve this blissful bubble of perpetual superficial happiness, with unending muzak and a loveless but contented marriage and bowlsful of marshmallows and chocolates. But then, suddenly, when Helen A is confronted by the reality of the death of the one thing in her life that she really truly did love, all of that artificiality vanishes, and she openly sobs for Fifi, without caring what anyone else thinks about her expressing her love or her heartache. I don't know if Helen A actually has an epiphany here, or if she later finds a way to make excuses to rationalize and explain away her behavior, but in that moment, the emotion is so real, and the moral of the story ("Happiness is nothing unless it exists side-by-side with sadness. Two sides: one coin!") is so clear, that it never fails to bring a lump to my throat. Besides, you can't help but feel a little sorry for Helen A, who may just now be realizing exactly what she's been missing out on all these years, and possibly even beginning to appreciate the very thing that she's put so many people to death for. It would be really interesting to know what Helen A does after she finally collects her emotions and realizes what she's just done. Incidentally, this scene is filmed beautifully: the shot of the Doctor and Ace standing impassively over Helen A as she weeps uncontrollably, with Earl's/Glynn's harmonica music soaring in the background, is just pitch-perfect.

In terms of its effect upon my childhood, I have fond memories of re-watching this story at the beach in the early 90s, and I remember learning the (British) term "one-armed bandit" from the novelization. And speaking of the novelization, can anybody explain to me why the otherwise-totally-awesome cover artist Alister Pearson chose to fill in the giant A with the blue poison canisters from Fenric rather than the silver sparklies that actually made up the A on Helen A's sleeve? That's always thrown me off.

Oh, and I can't review The Happiness Patrol without taking a moment to discuss the gay subtext. Somehow, this story seems to have gotten a reputation as the gayest story in Doctor Who, although to be honest I'm not entirely sure why. Yes, pink is a very prominent color, but it is after all the happiest color in the palette, and anyway, isn't lavender the pride color of choice these days? (although this probably was not the case in 1988, and I'm probably overestimating lavender's importance anyway.) The authors of the Discontinuity Guide seem to have seen pink triangles everywhere, but this has been rather widely disproven as merely a costume angle (black jacket unzipped over pink shirt equals pink triangle), and anyway I think Planet of Fire has rather a greater corner on the pink-triangle market (as About Time 6 points out). Entrapment of killjoys is certainly a parallel that could be drawn, but there's no particular reason to draw it with cottaging as opposed to, say, drug dealing or prostitution. So the only really convincing gay element is the fact that Joseph C up and abandons Helen A for Gilbert M, and if the two of them really are planning on building a nice happy life on Terra Omega together, then I have to point out that Gilbert M seems to be possibly more insufferable than Helen A, so poor Joseph just can't catch a break.

Minor points:

• Ace is oddly obsessed with dinosaurs all of a sudden, and for no apparent reason, although the very nice thing about this scene is that it demonstrates that by now, Ace is totally used to time travel, and can wander out of the TARDIS in the middle of a nice long conversation with the Doctor, and not even register the fact that she's just stepped out onto a new planet. In this case, when she eventually focuses on the fact that they've arrived somewhere new, it leads to this very nice little exchange:

  Ace: "Where are we, Professor, anyway?"
  Doctor: "A planet. An Earth colony, settled some centuries in your future. Do you like it?"
  Ace: "Nope."

• I love the way naming works on Terra Alpha, with people's initial reflecting their rank in society. Very cool! I've always been a little jealous of Susan Q (Q would be my pick too) although it does surprise me a little bit that a member of the Happiness Patrol could rank down past the midpoint. Isn't about time she got upgraded to at least Susan J? (Then again, given her actions by story's end, I don't think she has a promotion coming from Helen A anytime soon. We'd sooner be saying hello to Susan -ZZZ.)

• Nice reference back to The Armageddon Factor with the Doctor's line "Actually, my nickname at college was Theta Sigma." The continuity in this story is minimal and very well-handled.

• This one cracks me up. Such a McCoy-era quote!

  Daisy K: (regarding Ace) "And what about you? Are you happy?"
  Doctor: (stepping in before Ace can say anything unwise) "Oh, I would say she is, relatively speaking, given the deeply distressing nature of so many universal truths."
  Daisy K: (eyes narrowing) "What do you mean?"
  Doctor: (quickly) "Well, she's happy and I'm happy."

• McCoy's aside is awesome. As the Doctor contrives to invent a way to get himself and Ace arrested:

  Doctor: "Badges."
  Ace: "Badges?"
  Doctor: "Yes, I believe all offworld personnel are issued with badges at customs."
  Daisy K: "Yes! Where are your badges?"
  Ace: "I've got badges."
  Doctor: (aside) "She's got badges..."
  Ace: "This one's Charlton Athletic."
  Daisy K: "Not interested."

• Way to go, Harold V! All he has to do is pop a coin into the fruit machine, and without even pulling the lever, he's won! Talk about your easy games... I guess Helen A just wants to make sure that her riotous jokes reach the widest possible audience.

• I love that the waiting zone guards don't wear holsters; instead, they keep their deadly weapons concealed in an innocent little peanut-vendor box.

• Not very nice of Helen A to project her own biases onto the things that make other people sad. She really ought to know that the feeling of rain on my skin makes me very happy indeed, at least if it's warm rain. I often prefer to stroll outside in the rain without an umbrella, and it's certainly not because I like feeling melancholy! Maybe she needs to try it once in a while and find out just how delightful it is.

• So, Harold V says that he's heard of three methods of execution: the Forum, the Kandy Man, and rumors of the firing squad (by which he presumably means the Happiness Patrol). So under what method of execution is his brother killed? Does "fondant surprise following mock firing squad" count as a Kandy Man death? It's an interesting touch, though, that Helen A dismisses the firing squad here (ha! I just typed "the firing squid" — how's that for a quirky method of execution?). It comes across as more than a little cruel, because the condemned man briefly thinks that his sentence has been lifted, only for him to be drenched in strawberry fondant. (Incidentally, from the depiction, it's hard to tell if he's smothered by the fondant or if it's hot enough to boil him to death — although I suppose if it were the latter, he'd look a lot worse after coming out of the pipe. But eventually the Kandy Man clears this up for us, and informs us that the fondant is meant to smother you to death after all. So there's my question answered.)

• A great moment of fury for Ace, although I have the sense that Sophie Aldred's detractors probably point and laugh at this line:

  Ace: "I want to nail those scumbags! I wanna make them very very unhappy!"
  Doctor: "Don't worry, Ace. We will."

• It would appear that the Kandy Man is pouring lemonade into the candy on his stove. Part of me is thinking "but the boiling sugar is going to wipe out all the carbonization", and the rest of me is thinking "mmm, lemonade-flavored candy".

• Hee, there's a very funny blooper as the Doctor manages to get the go-kart started. One of the Happiness Patrol members peeks around the corner behind him, sees that he is not yet ready for her to come out and chase him, and quietly ducks back into the corridor. (Oddly, when they do engage in pursuit, they all stream out from the corridor that's one closer to McCoy. So what was she doing down there in the first place? Maybe she wasn't with the hunting party, she was just looking for the maraschino cherry orchards and got lost.)

• The news that the Happiness Patrol has recently massacred an entire village raises the stakes more than a little. As if the discreet murder of hundreds of killjoys wasn't bad enough, now they've done something large-scale and even more indiscriminate, which is probably what tipped the Doctor off to the situation on Terra Alpha in the first place.

• Three cheers for the famous incapacitating shoulder-chop, which makes an appearance when Earl knocks Silas P out mid-whistle.

• How does the Doctor immediately find his way to the Kandy Kitchen like a homing pigeon? I never saw anybody tell him where it was. Maybe he just followed his nose...

• Hmm, I wonder why it is that Helen A doesn't want to allow the workers into the city? Above and beyond the fact that they're all apparently a miserable bunch of killjoys, that is. Does she have something against the workers? You get the feeling that she considers them "less than", as if by being part of the working classes, they're somehow automatically distasteful. Given her treatment of the native population, this is not really a very big stretch of the imagination.

• What exactly is the point of moving the waiting zone around? I doubt it makes anybody happier, unless they think it's nice to give the, um... waiting-around people (what do they call prisoners on Terra Alpha, anyway?) a change of scenery? You'd think it would be a logistical nightmare, not to mention a clear opportunity for the non-prisoners to make a break for it.

• Great description of the Doctor, made even funnier by the fact that he's already fully aware of it:

  Earl: "You're a nice guy, Doctor, but a little weird."
  Doctor: "Enough of the little."

• Another super delivery by Sheila Hancock, and I love that Helen A finds Daisy K's story laughably unbelievable:

  Helen A: "Priscilla P was overpowered by a defenseless girl and a vermin. Is it a joke, Daisy K?"
  Daisy K: "No, ma'am."
  Helen A: "Oh, what a shame, I enjoy a good joke."

• The Doctor's first meeting with Helen A is a superb scene. You can tell that he appraises her fully in a single glance, and spares no effort to hide the fact that he doesn't like what he sees. His line "It's no pleasure, I assure you." clearly wrong-foots her! (And you don't often see Helen A wrong-footed!)

• Helen A gets an interesting line: "We have controlled the population down by 17 percent." So does that mean that she tolerated the killjoys until six months ago, when Trevor's census result gave her a good excuse to start "controlling" them? If so, it would explain why the whole planet is in such a deep depression, because the routine disappearances (and village-razings) are a new thing and they haven't yet figured out how to deal with it. If this is the case, then I wonder what Helen A did to the killjoys up until six months ago? Or is it possible that she didn't institute her "happiness will prevail" edicts until six months ago either? (That seems unlikely, though; "I'm happy you're glad" seems to be a deeply-ingrained ritual, so it's easier to believe that this is not a newly-developed culture. Although it couldn't be too old, since Helen A is in her early 50s and she probably didn't found Terra Alpha any later than her 30s.) Helen A does say in part 3 that the killings didn't begin until later, after she'd given the people every chance to comply with her rules. So, it might be reasonable to assume that she took over Terra Alpha within the last 5 years, but didn't start murdering the killjoys until six months ago. (In that case, the Kandy Man was probably very happy about the rule change; you get the sense that he's been wanting to murder people with sweets for his entire existence.)

• Why is Helen A so desperate to hide her family snaps? (which, curiously, do not seem to feature Joseph C at all!) Either she's thinking "Why do passport photographs always turn out horrible!" or "Oh, he'll think I'm obsessed with my Stigorax!" I think the former is more plausible, since dog people like Helen A are usually happy to brag about their pooch to anyone.

• The Doctor's confrontation with Helen A is also really awesome (he sure doesn't waste any time, does he?), and he actually gets her to lose her cool! I love his deliberate obstinateness:

  Helen A: "You talk too much, whoever you are."
  Doctor: "Was that a question?"
  Helen A: "No."
  Doctor: "Good. I'm the Doctor."

• What an odd way to dispense one's lemonade, by putting it in an opaque yellow seltzer bottle that resembles a fire extinguisher more than a decanter. Shouldn't you at least be able to show off how lovely your high-quality lemonade is? I wonder what other drinks can be dispensed in this manner. Next time my friends come over, I think I'll pull out a refilled fire extinguisher, make motions in the direction of their glasses, and ask, "Prune juice, anyone?" (And if they're not nice to me, they might just get a spritz of prune juice in the face! Helen A would approve of that, no doubt.)

• Okay, now I have to admit a very sad thing. Yes, the Doctor's confrontation with the snipers is a great distillation of what he's all about, buuuuuut... I don't find it very convincing or very well-written. It's just a bit odd that this sniper, who up until a moment ago was crazy trigger-happy, suddenly gets cold feet and "can't!" shoot the Doctor. Had it been played a little bit more subtly, emphasizing the difference between shooting a stranger whose face you can't even see and a living, breathing human being right in front of you, I think it might be a masterpiece. But all this "Now that you mention it, I inexplicably cannot bring myself to end your life!" stuff kind of defangs the scene, in my opinion. It's just a little too sudden. I also think it would really have helped if the snipers had been played by two braggadocious, innocent-looking 16-year-olds, because I have a hard time believing that these men, in Helen A's employ for presumably some time, have never killed anyone before.

• Still annoying, but much less so, is the scene in which a Happiness Patrol member paints "RIP" on Daphne S' poster, but the paint runs out on the P and she has to redo it. Nowadays I laugh at myself for having gotten so worked up about this, but back when this story first aired, that moment really irritated me! Maybe that goes to show what a perfectionist I am... although I'm sure there are other words for it too :) I probably wanted them to refilm the scene and get enough paint on the brush next time! Heh heh. Now I'm just impressed with how precise her lettering is, and how accurately she manages to repaint the curve of the P... it actually looks really good! (Don't you know, these days they'd probably fill in the missing paint by computer.)

• We see a shot of the killjoys marching toward Forum Square (and, by the way, isn't it awesome how the announcer later refers to them as "a depression"? Love that!) and it looks like a waiting zone has been erected right across the end of the corridor. There doesn't seem to be any way for them to turn left or right and avoid it — so are they just planning on marching right through it? You certainly wouldn't be able to do that if there were prisons on Terra Alpha!

• Again with the asides! McCoy delivers these so well...

  Doorman: (re: Ace) "What does she do, then?"
  Doctor: "Do?"
  Doorman: "Sing, dance, juggle, magic, (vend?) or impressions."
  Doctor: "She makes things disappear."
  Doorman: (nodding to self) "Magic."
  Doctor: (sotto voce) "Nothing magical about the way she does it..."

• There's a great visual of the Doctor unrolling a scroll listing the names of all Helen A's "population control" methods. It's a great way to help drive home just how very many people she's had killed in the name of muzak.

• Georgina Hale's annoyed / petulant delivery cracks me up! As the entire Happiness Patrol train their guns on her:

  Daisy K: "Priscilla P, stop it!"

• Har har, corny-but-still-funny music joke. Although, yipes, Earl's notes seem to wander all over!

  Doctor: "Earl, give me an A flat."
  Earl: "Eh?"
  Doctor: "No, A flat!"

• The scene in which the Doctor brings Ace to the Kandy Kitchen is a definite highlight. What fun it is to watch them terrorize the Kandy Man!

  Doctor: "Kandy Man! I don't believe you've met my young friend Ace — an expert in calorification, incineration, carbonization and inflammation."

• Using a red-hot poker to threaten the Kandy Man is particularly clever. I mean, I guess that would work on an ordinary human too, but somehow it seems that much more threatening when you're aiming it at a walking, talking lump of sugar. And how impressive is it that the Doctor manages to catch the cool end of the poker when Ace throws it to him? (although I suspect some clever editing, in much the same vein as how Leela's knives always hit their mark, no matter how wonky she threw them.)

• Really though, a red-hot poker should be no sweat for the Kandyman, who clearly likes to live on the edge. After all, he has ovens that shoot gouts of flame at you about two seconds after you open the door. (Woe betide any cupcakes you might happen to have in there at the time!)

• Now here's a nice poetic quote, as Earl and Susan Q go around shooting down muzak loudspeakers:

  Earl: "Blissful, isn't it, Doctor? Silence."
  Doctor: "Ah-ha, not quite. I can hear the sound of empires toppling."

• And I've always loved this exchange between the Doctor and Ace, especially because he clearly has no objections if Susan Q is the one doing the vandalizing!

  Ace: "Can I have a go, Professor?"
  Doctor: "Wanton destruction of public property? Certainly not."

• The Kandy Man gets a pretty great ending — hoist by his own petard, as Pip 'n Jane would say! — and gets dissolved in the sugary sludge that the Pipe People unleash from the Kandy Kitchen. (Which, incidentally, supports my earlier theory that the fondant surprise is hot when it comes pouring down on Helen A's victims.)

• Gilbert M's background on the Kandy Man is interesting, but it does make me wonder how he smuggled the thing's brain to Terra Alpha as well as his skeleton? (Now that I think about it, we don't see any evidence of a skeleton, do we? Just some metal scaffolding. Unless that means the Kandy Man was never human, but always some form of robot? That's one thing Gilbert doesn't divulge, the Kandy Man's identity pre-confectionery. Who was he, anyway? And was he equally psychotic before Gilbert M turned him into a living, breathing jelly baby?)

• Bwahahaha! Speaking of "hoist by her own petard"...

  Doctor: "Susan Q! Who taught you to shoot like that?"
  Susan Q: (indicates a trussed-up Daisy K) "She did!"

• It's interesting to see the Happiness Patrol members without their wigs! They look so... plain!

• And then we get to the really awesome scene in which Helen A discovers her own emotional flipside, capped off by this exchange, as Ace watches Helen A wallow in grief:

  Ace: "Shouldn't we do something, Professor?"
  Doctor: " 'Tis done."

• After the Happiness Patrol is, presumably, disbanded, the rivalry continues apace:

  Daisy K: "This is all your fault, Priscilla."
  Priscilla P: (snarky) "I'm glad you're happy, Daisy."

• And now, to my slight sadness, the TARDIS is repainted. (Wouldn't it have been awesome to see it pink for a few more stories? It wouldn't have stood out in Greatest Show one bit!) As the Doctor says, "There are no other colors without the blues."

The Happiness Patrol suffers from some fundamental flaws in the realization of its premise, but at the same time, these flaws are so obvious that you almost have to assume they're intentional, for some reason. The best solution seems to be to assume that everything onscreen fits an internal consistency that we just aren't aware of, then relax and enjoy the ride, because the concept here really is a great one, and when it's executed right, it's blissful, with an ending that brings tears to the eyes. Which is just as it should be.