Holistic Review: There are problems in practically every facet of the production, but the storyline is just so entertaining that they don't even matter.
The Keys of Marinus is one of those stories about which fandom, as a whole, is not even remotely fond. It's also one of those stories on which my opinion diverges massively from fandom as a whole. Personally, I have a very hard time seeing why fans dislike this story. If not for The Aztecs, Marinus would be my favorite story from Hartnell's first season, and even across Hartnell's entire tenure it's still in my top three.
Mind you, that doesn't mean that I can't see this story's flaws. I most certainly can, thank you very much, but I don't feel that they're strong enough to undo all the good work that the storyline has accomplished. Like Marco Polo before it, The Keys of Marinus is one of those stories that you feel must have been up against enormous hurdles. From the producer's perspective, part of the appeal of doing Doctor Who stories as multi-episode serials is that even though each serial requires a completely different location, you should be able to save costs by reusing the same sets across at least each full story. Yet here we are, in the very early days of the show, with two consecutive stories that require new sets for practically every episode. So if there's occasionally an unconvincing set element, it's very easy to look beyond, knowing what pressure the designers must have been under to dress so many sets within the same miniscule budget. And it must be said that The Keys of Marinus is very creative with its limitations, even working them into the storyline of part 2.
And now that I've already apologized for The Keys of Marinus, I rush to praise it. Because Marinus is one of those stories which absolutely captures a child's imagination, thanks to its ever-changing exotic locations which present a series of mini-puzzles for the characters to figure out. You know me, never met a quest plotline I didn't like. Granted, some episodes are more successful than others, but none of the mini-adventures even resembles a complete flop. There's something to love about each one of them. And because of the unique structure of the story, I feel the need to discuss each segment on its own. I'll wait to talk about the overall plot at the end, so let's begin with...
Episode 2: The Velvet Web
What a great title, eh? "The Velvet Web" is, in my opinion, the best of the Marinus mini-adventures, just because the concept is so brilliant. We spend the first few minutes fully believing that Barbara is lounging around in a luxurious handmade gown, sipping freshly-squeezed juice from crystal goblets... only to discover that the entire time, she's really been wearing torn rags and drinking from chipped mugs. Even more than the grungy reality of the situation, it's what doesn't get shown that fires the imagination. If Barbara's gown is made of rags, then what were they actually eating when they thought they were dining on grapes, truffles and roast turkey with almonds? Rotting table scraps, most likely. Even though it's probably more comforting for the victims, this type of brainwashed slavery is somehow even more horrific than outright unapologetic slavery would be, possibly because that sort of secrecy makes you wonder what else they're doing to, or with, their oblivious slaves. The thought of the Doctor, Ian and Susan being worked to death (if not outright murdered) and fed putrid maggot-ridden slop, all while being misled into believing that they're living in the lap of luxury, makes the skin crawl.
Another really good moral lesson of part 2 is that sometimes it's wise to look your gift horse in the mouth. Or, to take an actual expression, there's no such thing as a free lunch (unless it's rotten). Ian starts out with exactly this outlook, but once the Mesmeron starts to work on him, he changes his tune: "So they really can do it, eh? They can give you anything you ask for." Little does he realize, by this point, that this is emphatically not true. What's really surprising is that the Doctor, pre-Mesmeron, is more accepting of the situation than Ian. Not only does he lack Ian's degree of suspicion about the locals' abundance of material wealth, but his innocent outlook starts even before they've entered Morphoton, vehemently insisting that the whole business of Barbara's bloody travel dial is probably just a misunderstanding. It's an unusual change of pace for the Doctor, who's typically been one of the more cynical members of the TARDIS crew. And of course nobody stops to consider that, despite Altos' assurances that the population of Millennius enjoys every luxury their little hearts could desire, this is visibly untrue for the serving girls, who are still — discomfitingly — devoting their lives to indulging the whims of everyone but themselves.
The other major asset of Episode 2 is that it taps into a great vein of paranoia, as Barbara — the first one to be put under Morphoton's mesmeric influence, and the one who lures her friends in — also becomes the first to discover the truth about the city. But by that point, it's too late. All of her friends are falling under the influence of the same illusion that snared Barbara, and slowly turning against her. Thus, the latter half of the episode becomes "Barbara against the world", which raises the stakes, and the tension, enormously. Should Barbara be recaptured, not only will her friends remain under the thrall of the Brains of Morphoton for the rest of their abbreviated lives, Barbara herself will probably be put to death without delay. Anytime an episode gives Jacqueline Hill the chance to shine, it seems to make it all the better, so the combination of unsettling plot with Barbara front-and-center makes this one a real winner.
It occurs to me that "The Velvet Web" is possibly one of the earliest Doctor Who episodes to feature a whiff of HP Lovecraft. Brains in jars are very "The Whisperer in Darkness", disembodied intelligences recall his pantheon of extradimensional gods seeking a purchase in our universe, and the concept of an eerie city hiding malevolent secrets, where the residents are unknowingly being used as slaves or cattle by their inhuman overlords, echoes numerous short stories by Lovecraft ("The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath" and "The Shadow Over Innsmouth" among others) that incorporate the same themes.
I adore the way this episode turns the story's budgetary limitations into an advantage. Once we know that filthy everyday objects are being passed off for luxury in Morphoton, we're immediately able to conjure up huge advanced laboratories from a handful of old props. It's absolutely brilliant. And how funny is it to watch the Doctor ooh and ahh over broken mugs and battered wooden workbenches?
CHARACTERS:
The Brains of Morphoton are indeed very effective monsters, not because they're physically menacing, but because they're really icky-looking and, in keeping with their cerebral nature, they're extremely clever, having figured out a way to rule their populace through mental control alone. Thankfully, their delicate nature means that they're relatively easy to kill, particularly since they've never really had to worry before about a successful rebellion, so a miffed Barbara with an amphora is all it takes to bring their empire crashing down.
The Voice of Morpho (Heron Carvic) is wonderfully sinister and authoritative, with a great undertone of dismissiveness, which conveys the fact that the Brains aren't even slightly concerned about the well-being of their subjects.
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By my estimate, that scene could be performed in just over a minute and a half, which gives Barbara a few extra seconds to change and get her hair did. See? Totally doable!
Episode 3: The Screaming Jungle
I admit to a huge fondness for episode 3, as well, in large part because, yet again, the episode focuses mainly on Ian and Barbara as they try to solve the riddle of the week. The inclusion of an imitation microcircuit is brilliant, because it forces Ian and Barbara to stick around the location even after they're reunited, and of course it provides the resolution to the entire story in another three episodes' time.
The slowly-mounting tension in episode 3 is really well done, with much credit to Russell and Hill, to the point that the climax becomes almost improbably terrifying as the plants get more and more aggressive. I think it says a lot for the production team that they're able to make a few plastic vines seem like a genuinely threatening menace. Consider the difference between the early scene in which a vine attacks Susan's ankle — Barbara, hilariously, swiftly leaps into action to pull this offending bit of presumably-innocent vegetation off Susan's leg, and club it to death with a rock as if it were a venomous snake — and the later scene in which a vine attacks Barbara's ankles — by which point we genuinely believe that it could do her harm, either by dragging her through the wall and into the hostile jungle, or by strangling her right in front of Ian. After all, the jungle seems to be intelligent, given that it knows when to retreat and when to attack people.
The area outside Darrius' home and research center also holds the attention because, as Barbara says, "this whole place is one big booby trap!" Hidden traps have always been a guaranteed way to keep me riveted; it's no doubt one reason why I've always enjoyed films like Cube or the Indiana Jones series.
The episode's riddle adds a lot of interest to the proceedings, as we get to watch Ian and Barbara put their heads together to consider solutions, do their research, and puzzle out the situation. Without the Doctor and Susan around — reliant only on their human wits, methodical searching, and Ian's scientific background — the two of them manage to figure out not only where the key is hidden, but also the true nature of the emerging danger. In that respect, it's not only an exciting episode, it's also great for character-building. And, in keeping with the show's educational remit, I adore that the riddle turns out to be a chemical formula, albeit one that incorporates elements apparently not found on the planet Earth...!
CHARACTERS:
Darrius (Edmund Warwick) has a mere 15 lines, so doesn't get much of a chance to make an impression, but Warwick does have a tendency to deliver them at a very leisurely pace with oddly-placed pauses. His cries of pain are realistic enough, though, and his deathbed confession to Ian and Barbara is performed in suitably cryptic fashion.
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Episode 4: The Snows of Terror
Episode 4, in my opinion, is the weakest of the lot in terms of plot cohesion. Rest assured that we'll be getting into that below. Where it really succeeds, however, is in presenting a stark difference with the warm-climate setting of the previous three episodes. Suddenly hurling our characters, who are dressed for warm weather, into a sub-zero climate is a frightening plot twist all in itself. (Arbitan really underprepared them, didn't he?! Surely he could've taken a minute to mention the little things like, oh, the false microcircuit, the booby traps in the jungle, the need for all-weather gear...! No wonder nobody ever came back.) One thing that I absolutely love about this story, which makes it very rare for Doctor Who, is that it portrays Marinus as a real planet with a diversity of climates and cultures. So many stories are set on "the desert planet" or "the ice planet" with what appears to be one single dominant culture, so Marinus with its realistic differences is a breath of fresh air. There's even a mention, in part 5, of "glass factories" in the desert, representing another part of the planet that we never even see, and in part 6, Altos and Sabetha demonstrate with Ian the local custom of gripping forearms rather than shaking hands. All this detail gives the impression that Marinus has been given more than just cursory thought.
Leaving aside the "ice warriors" (lack of capitalization very important), episode 4 is also noteworthy in that all of the threats are real-world rather than science-fiction. Ian and Barbara could be done in by hypothermia, ravenous wolves, ice ravines, rockfalls, or human treachery. Which, of course, raises one of the biggest issues in most modern analyses of The Keys of Marinus: Vasor's attempted rape of Barbara. What I find interesting about this is that, as a child, I'm sure I didn't notice the subtext (or perhaps it would be more fair to say that I simply didn't understand exactly what it meant in the same way that I do now, as an adult in a much more rape-aware culture). What I also find interesting is that there's really very little difference between this scene, in which Vasor pursues Barbara around his cabin, and the scene in The Romans in which Nero pursues Barbara around his palace, except that one scene is played for tension and the other for laughs. If anything, it's even more evident that Nero has sex on the brain, so I expect to see that serial undergoing a bit of a re-analysis in the near future.
The solution to recovering the key is great, too, although I realize that's not a popular opinion. However, I love the idea that turning on the hot taps will melt the ice... but also un-freeze its murderous guardians. (How did Arbitan expect them to get around that, I wonder?) The only problem with it is that the characters treat this situation with much more nonchalance than it would seem to warrant. Rather than hovering around until the key is finally exposed, or even chipping away at the block of ice, they all wander off and don't even realize that the entire block of ice has melted away. Then again, they didn't realize that they were also racing the clock to escape before the knights awoke, which is perhaps the larger problem.
Even though I have qualms about the scene's inclusion in the plot (which I'll discuss below), the idea of having to freeze two icicles together ("with any luck"!) to make a bridge freaks me out. The shot of Susan slowly traversing it as it creaks alarmingly is extremely well-played, making it a definite edge-of-your-seat moment.
CHARACTERS:
Vasor (Francis de Wolff) is the first truly successful guest character of the story. Initially, we perceive him as a gruff loner whose antisocial tendencies can be attributed to his lifestyle, on the assumption that, since he saved Ian and Barbara's lives, he must be friendly. Only later, as the true depth of his sociopathic and manipulative tendencies become evident, do we realize that we were giving him way too much credit. Interestingly, Barbara appears to have spot-on subconscious intuition about him almost immediately. She says she doesn't fear him, but she pulls her hand away as he demonstrates his anti-frostbite technique, and she nervously watches him walk away until the moment that she races to Ian's bedside. de Wolff plays Vasor perfectly, appearing kind enough at first, but immediately coming across as just a bit predatory the second that Ian has left Barbara alone with him, and soon demonstrating just how manipulative he really is... although his terror at the "demons" in the mountain reveals an unexpected superstitious, cowardly side. And he has a brilliant evil laugh!
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Episodes 5 & 6: Sentence of Death
For me, The Keys of Marinus almost starts to go off the rails in episodes 5 and 6. I find this ironic, because most people who despise the story cite these two episodes as the only high point. This is probably telling, in terms of expectations. For me, the sudden switch from "single-episode adventure quest" to "two-episode murder mystery courtroom drama" is jarring.
Another reason why parts 5 and 6 feel so unusually distinct is that up until this point, the story has also had a theme of isolation: Arbitan stranded alone on his island, Barbara being hunted by the entire city of Morphoton, Darrius guarding his key in solitude, and Vasor living a lonely existence miles away from the nearest village. Perhaps that's more a function of the hiring budget than any intended message, because suddenly our regulars are surrounded by a bustling city, and even Ian, in more-or-less solitary confinement under sentence of death, has his friends working on his behalf.
What works, though, is the tension generated by Ian's incarceration — accused of murder and, in contrast to Earth laws, presumed guilty until he can prove his innocence beyond the shadow of a doubt — and Susan's abduction. Both maintain the viewer's interest by upping the stakes and giving the Doctor and Barbara a deadline to race against. The murder plot, too, makes for an interesting sort of locked-door mystery. We're never given quite enough clues to solve it for ourselves (for one thing, nobody mentions that the mace escaped examination until after it's been revealed as the key's hiding spot) but it's conceivable that you could put enough pieces together to make an educated guess at the rest. It's also nice that the fifth key becomes a more integral part of the storyline than just the object of the quest, in a somewhat similar fashion to the way The Armageddon Factor more deeply incorporates the sixth segment of the Key to Time. For weeks, we've watched the regulars track down these very rare keys, the existence of which is apparently such a secret that almost nobody other than Arbitan's couriers has attempted to obtain them. It makes a nice change to learn that the one in Millennius is not only widely known about, but also valued for its rarity, to the point that some people would be willing to kill to get it.
Unfortunately, the rest of the adventure is less memorable. The procedural aspect of the murder-mystery, in particular, is extremely disappointing. In theory, it should be fantastic. With the Doctor on the case — or, at least, in the courtroom defending Ian — the prosecution should be felled by his quick wit and brilliant insights. Instead, what happens is that the Doctor turns out to be unable to prove anything at all, has to admit defeat, and Ian is nearly executed as a result. Not a single useful piece of evidence is discovered as a result of the TARDIS crew's investigations, and the Doctor isn't able to put together even a shred of a workable defense. On three occasions, he gets a lucky break, in each case because the person in question didn't know when to keep their mouth shut. First Aydan:
Twice!
Then Kala:
Ultimately, aside from blabbermouthed characters who couldn't quit while they were ahead, there are only two factors that enable the Doctor to save Ian: first, because he was clever enough to figure out where the microcircuit had been hidden, and second, because Susan overheard that Kala's co-conspirator planned to collect the key in secret. Not exactly the sort of whip-smart super-detective work that you expect from a genius of the Doctor's calibre.
CHARACTERS:
Kala (Fiona Walker) is the second-best guest character of the story, which perhaps proves the old saying that villains are the most fun to play. Walker has such a great arch delivery, and she's very convincing as she dissolves into tears in front of Barbara. She offers her sympathy so sincerely that you can almost believe she's truly innocent. But her best moment is when Barbara, Altos and Sabetha leave her flat, and she looks up from her hands, no longer sobbing but wickedly smiling, and trots off to gleefully taunt Susan with her impending doom.
Tarron (Henley Thomas) is a relatively successful character. He immediately comes across as a very perceptive, analytical man, who relentlessly probes Ian's story for inconsistencies. He also approaches the case with some pretty strong preconceptions, which the Doctor finds very difficult to break. Overall, Thomas' performance is good, and I like the very naturalistic reaction that he gives Barbara after she brings up the science of fingerprinting and then, realizing his confusion, dismisses the subject. At times his performance verges on unsubtle, as on the line "When I reached the door, it was opened and, well, you know what we found inside.", which he delivers as if he can't wait to get to the end of it. What I'm hearing, though, could also be interpreted as detachment, because it's also clear that Tarron doesn't consider himself to be on Ian's side, so he's analyzing the case as dispassionately as possible. In fact, it's difficult to tell whether he really comes to believe Ian or if he doubts his story right up until the last moment.
The Senior Judge at the tribunal (Raf De La Torre) is also pretty successful; though De La Torre is confined by the formulaic nature of his role, he imbues his lines with some personality and makes the judge seem fair-minded.
Aydan (Martin Cort), the relief guard who murdered Eprin, seems like a bomb primed to explode, and he certainly has issues with his temper. The scene in which we hear him slap Kala is plenty enough to make him seem despicable, even if he hadn't been the murderer all along!
Eyesen (Donald Pickering), the chief prosecutor, is my least favorite character of the Millennius adventure. He's fine in his court role, presenting before the judges, although even then, Pickering seems to get nervous when Eyesen is asked to summarize: he stumbles over his lines and then bites his lip for a moment before proceeding. Otherwise, his line readings are just relatively flat, and the character comes across as really pretty dull. (It doesn't help that Tarron, Aydan, Eyesen and Larn all have a similar hair color and wear similar uniforms, so on first viewing I kept getting really confused about who was whom!)
Larn (Michael Allaby), the guardian who outlines the rules for Barbara's interactions with Ian, is a brief role, but Allaby interprets Larn as helpful rather than brusque, making him sympathetic. I'm sad that Allaby didn't have a larger role, because aside from Kala, he's actually my favorite actor in the Millennius scenes.
There's also a guard in Ian's room who gets one line ("The execution is set to take place when the pointer reaches the star") but appears to be uncredited. His one line is good, though!
STICKING POINTS:
Episodes 1 & 6: The Keys of Marinus
The island makes for a great introduction to Marinus, particularly as it's also the most exotic locale that we see (cities, jungles and mountains not being such rare sights on Earth as acid seas and glass-pebbled beaches). The acid sea presents quite a threat to our travellers, effectively illustrated when Susan nearly goes paddling in it, although it's a shame that it never comes back into play later in the adventure. Still, it adds to the atmosphere of the planet, or at least of the island. (Is it possible that only the sea around the island is acidic? The Doctor implies that it, along with the layer of glass on the beach, is one of Arbitan's protective measures.) And atmosphere is, without a doubt, one of the strong points of Marinus, beginning right from the start, with the sense of mystery and exoticism that permeates episode 1. The fact that nobody has ever made it back alive from searching for the keys gives the quest a great sense of peril before it's even begun.
Although the story's climax is slightly problematic on a couple of points, which I'll discuss below, I still appreciate that the resolution was seeded earlier in the story, which makes it feel well thought-out. The duplicate key seemed like nothing more than a plot device at the time, but in part 6, it turns out to be the very thing that destroys the Voords and their evil plan for world domination.
CHARACTERS:
Arbitan (George Coulouris) is an interesting character, the lone defender of the Keys of Marinus, but I just don't find Coulouris' performance to be very interesting. He stumbles over his lines occasionally, inserts lots of awkward pauses, and at times — as on the line "Yes! Yes! You must find the keys for me!" — his delivery isn't terribly subtle.
Yartek (Stephen Dartnell) actually does a really good job mimicking Arbitan, although I'm not sure why he chose to stay in his wetsuit, rather than changing out of it and being a little bit less conspicuous! He almost gets his Arbitan-hood caught on his helmet ornamentation. Still, Dartnell has a wonderful voice, and gives a great performance through the inflexible Voord mask. He gives arguably the third-best performance of the story, rounding out the trifecta of talented villains on Marinus.
STICKING POINTS:
It's worth noting, though, that the Conscience isn't really that different from the Mesmeron in Morphoton. Both are designed to mentally control the population, yet the Mesmeron is made out to be much more wicked, despite not exerting as much influence. Perhaps that's because the Conscience is designed to protect people whereas the Mesmeron is designed to deceive and subjugate? Still, it's possible that a deliberate, subtle parallel is being drawn.
Overall, in terms of general structure, I think The Keys of Marinus is really well plotted. The story zips rapidly along with very few lags, except possibly during the Millennius segment. For the most part, the logistics of the story are well-handled too. There are lots of moments where you think to yourself, "Why don't they just use their travel dials to escape?" and, in most cases, the characters themselves will address the issue moments later, sometimes even basing their decision to leave on whether or not another character might have already used his or her travel dial, as in part 3 when Barbara is separated from the group.
Altos (Robin Phillips) and Sabetha (Katherine Schofield) are, in many ways, completely superfluous to requirements. They're both integral to the plotline of the Morphoton segments, but they skip out on the jungle entirely, practically their only function on the snowy mountain is to be rescued, they hang around in the background doing nothing but research in Millennius, and even when the action moves back to the island citadel, Altos is captured and Sabetha stands up to Yartek for a mere 50 seconds. Because they're not really super-involved in the plot, it's not a huge problem that, unfortunately, the performances are on the bland side. Between the two, Phillips comes off better: Altos seems friendly and eager to help, and now and then he gets to suggest clever ideas. Phillips also plays his lines with a bit more emotion, although they're occasionally a bit stilted. In Morphoton, Phillips gives a menacing performance, particularly when Altos realizes that Barbara has been unaffected by the Mesmeron. I like his delivery of the line "Come on, we're going back!" He does, however, stumble over his lines a bit in part 6. ("It's just possible that his... wife Kala might know someone that he was seeing quite frequently. [...] She'd be as eager as we are to... find the man that murdered her husband.") Then again, Jacqueline Hill has a similar problem shortly thereafter ("So we realized that Kala couldn't have known we'd... talked to Susan.") so maybe there was just something in the BBC canteen coffee that day. Schofield, on the other hand, doesn't give much nuance to her lines, nor does she engage in much facial acting. This is obvious in the scene where Sabetha's memories begin to return, and she just looks sort of vacant. The one moment where she really shines is when she pretends to be all arch and uncaring in part 6, until Sabetha's "imperious aristocrat" act backfires on her; and her reaction in part 3 when she compares the first and second keys is quite good.
By the series' fifth story, there's effectively no remaining trace of the Doctor's anti-hero characterization. In fact, he's chipper and friendly throughout the story, as if the four of them have always been good friends, and it's this story where his giggly, easily-amused personality really takes hold. Even to extremes, one might say; he even giggles after knocking out a Voord that was trying to stab Ian! The Doctor's reaction to the barrier around the TARDIS is hilarious. What he says sounds a lot like "Wha- ba- that be — what?!" Not that he doesn't get his serious moments as well; the Doctor's annoyance at Arbitan trapping them on Marinus is excellent. But his real moment of glory comes in part 5, as Hartnell returns from his holiday to grip his lapels and take control of the courtroom. The Doctor even gets to steal some of Ian's science-education spotlight in this story, by informing us about molecular cohesion as he examines the barrier around the TARDIS. Fantastic delivery of "I only mentioned it because I have rather a sore spot here myself.", "Oh, come now, surely you don't think that he's still guilty?", and "You're all running around here like a lot of scared chickens!"
However, ahem, not all of his line deliveries are quite as effortless. In honor of William Hartnell — and given (a) the unorthodox format of this review, and (b) the permanently-on-the-brink-of-falling-apart nature of this story — I've decided that it would be fun to lump all of the Billy Flubs together for your reading pleasure. As you'll see, it's certainly not just Hartnell whose lines wander away from him... it's nearly the entire cast!
As you've no doubt gathered, I'm a massive fan of Jacqueline Hill's Barbara, who is a perfect blend of level-headed competence, fiery assertiveness, and calming sensibility. My love for The Keys of Marinus is no doubt at least partly rooted in the fact that it allows all of these qualities to shine, and gives her numerous moments to be in the spotlight and show off not just her personality, but also her intelligence. Barbara's the one who points out that the acid pool on the beach is tidal (thus inferring that the entire sea is also made of acid), she's the first to notice the mortarless joins in the building (which gives her an opportunity to show off her history knowledge, and Ian his physics knowledge), she single-handedly brings down the corruption in Morphoton and destroys the evil Brains, she's proactive in suggesting that they look for branches to force their way through Darrius' door, she bristles at being coddled ("I do wish Ian wouldn't treat us like Dresden china."), she shows great backbone as she and Susan question Kala, and she's the one who realizes that Kala is behind Susan's kidnapping. The Doctor's not the only one who gets to usurp Ian's position as chief scientific advisor; in part 4, Barbara has a go too, when she demonstrates to all of us the proper way to safely combat frostbite! She even gets moments of physicality, first in the horrifying scene when a mind-controlled Ian appears actually willing to strangle her to death, until she breaks his grip with a move that Buffy would be proud of, and later when she tries to fight off Vasor, even biting his hand at one point! It's also worth mentioning that The Keys of Marinus marks the first appearance of Barbara's very attractive Sensible Sweater with its wide oval collar, which feels absolutely emblematic of her character.
Hill does a great job of appearing exhausted after their exploratory jaunt around the pyramid, and frantic at Ian's disappearance. As always, her scenes with Russell sparkle, and at times they already feel rather like a married couple. In Morphoton, just before she recommends that Ian get some sleep, there's a moment when you'd swear she's about to lean in and give him a goodnight kiss. Hill gives a great delivery of "Oh, now don't spoil it all for me!", "I don't know!", "What have you done with Ian?", and "Yes, well, that may all be very fascinating." when it's actually very clear that she thinks Ian is wasting his time. Her reaction as she faces the Brains is spectacular... total revulsion, mixed with defiance. I also love the look that she gives the unfamiliar telephone in Millennius. And for as much of a scream count as Barbara racks up in this story — relatively unusual, for her — she's the very picture of composure as the knives (or are they clusters of sharpened stakes?) descend toward her from the ceiling! Moments away from being turned into Swiss cheese, she's merely hyperventilating. Impressive nerves of steel, Babs! Then again, her nerves of steel are sometimes a liability. Barbara is, it must be said, somewhat foolhardy to call Vasor's bluff when she's alone with him and locked in his cabin... it's sort of like when characters announce to the evil murderer that "I'm going to call the police!" She does, however, defend herself admirably, and nearly gets the best of him!
Ian is given some great heroic moments, too, rescuing both Altos and Barbara from Vasor. In part 6, after having to sit out the past episode-and-a-half in custody, it's nice that he gets to save the day by knocking Yartek's lights out. And it's not merely his muscles that solve problems on Marinus: his scientific knowledge and his quick wit come in handy, as he's the one who realizes that De3O2 is a formula, he comes up with the idea to build a bridge out of icicles, and he's very quick-thinking in his defense in Millennius. Love Russell's delivery of "Perhaps if Your Majesty will stop hogging the grapes, we can all have some." and the slightly insolent way he gives Taron his name, obviously barely deigning to play along with the man's investigation until he realizes how serious the situation has become. He gives the Doctor a hilarious look when the Doctor patronizingly calls the cyclotron "a simple toy... I'm sure that will amuse you." There are a couple of moments in the story where I really want to single out Russell's very skillful performance, giving us a window into Ian's emotional state by subtly expressing much more than Ian's actually saying: in part 2, Ian's jocularity about the menu masks his genuine discomfort and suspicion; and in part 4, Ian's obviously angry at himself for turning his back on Vasor and getting them stuck, because he's uncharacteristically short-tempered with the others as they suggest ways to escape.
It's not as strong of a story for Susan, whose reputation as a hysterical overreacting child is probably not helped by her (understandable) freak-out by the acid pool, or her (less-forgivable, although, as it turns out, warranted) freak-out in the jungle. However, this is balanced out by a couple of great moments of bravery, first when Susan takes the initiative to crawl across the icicle bridge to repair the swinging footbridge, persevering even when it starts creaking and shattering under her weight, and later when she mercilessly needles Aydan. (I must admit, though, that when Susan started to crawl across that icicle bridge, my first thought was not "how brave!" but rather "don't be so impetuous!" Had the icicles not frozen together well enough, she would've fallen to her death!) Panicked moments aside, Susan's personality shines throughout. She's bright and chipper as they explore the Marinus beach, and giddy with excitement when they arrive in Marinus. Love Ford's delivery of "And I was going to paddle in it!", "Well, I, I'd love a dress made from this silk here.", "They're going to kill me." (one of the best-delivered lines in the entire story), "Yes, and then the three of them crept up behind her and, wham!", and the way she says the word 'body'. Can Susan say 'body' in every story, please? I'm sure the writers could figure out a way to work it in naturally. I also love the concerned sound she makes when the Doctor mentions his itchy forehead, the shrug she gives the sleeping Barbara as she pours a second glass of orange juice, her infectious excitement over her "new" dress, and the hurt look she gives Barbara when she calls the dress "dirty rags". In part 4, she does a great job of constantly seeming cold.
Our "monsters" this week are the Voords — touted, at the time, as the unlikely challengers to the Daleks' throne. Exactly why the production team thought that the Voords stood any chance of taking the #1 Monster title is unclear to me, as they do little other than skulk about passageways and threaten to stab people, but it's amusingly metatextual that the creatures which look like men in rubber suits actually do turn out to be men in rubber suits. Or at least, so we presume; we never do see them, ahem, undressed. Their costumes are admittedly memorable, particularly their quirky helmet decorations (even if, in retrospect, they're reminiscent of Teletubbies), my favorite being the one who's sporting the Greek letter phi. The wetsuits do present some problems — one of the Voord actors memorably trips over his own feet and nearly falls when escorting Sabetha into the Conscience room in episode 6 — but they're also more flexible than your typical monster costumes, as a Voord demonstrates in episode 1 when he crouches behind a tiny pyramid of beach rock and conceals himself completely. Incidentally, I still have it drilled into my head that "Voord" is also the plural, but according to what we hear onscreen, that's not actually correct. Remember, self: Voords and Nimons, Voords and Nimons...
Given the no-doubt-extreme budgetary limitations for this story, it probably comes as no surprise that the effects are a mixed bag.
Set design, in contrast, is an area where I really can't criticize a thing. For the budget they had, I'm really impressed by the way each place on Marinus feels distinctive. In trying to pick a favorite, I can't quite decide between the hospitality suite in Morphoton — it looks grand and luxurious, and the giant face on the wall with its light-up eyes is really creepy — or Darrius' research room, with its ornate furniture covered in potted plants. I really like the design of the Conscience, too, with its faceted 12-sided translucent exterior revealing the interestingly-patterned and detailed circuitry within, and the network of metal struts radiating out from the machine as if to represent its power emanating from that room to encompass all of Marinus. The courtrooms of Millennius display a very attractive cross symbol, although on closer examination it's not entirely dissimilar to a traditional Hindu swastika. Might that be deliberate? Perhaps it reflects the hopes of the court that all its cases will turn out auspiciously. Or maybe on Marinus it has a meaning related to justice? Smartly, even though the individual locations are distinct, there are also recurring features on Marinus, like statuary (notably in Morphoton and the jungle) and knights in armor (in the jungle and the mountain).
The costumes are equally great throughout. I love the contrast between Altos' illusory costume, with its sweeping robes and grand necklace, and his actual clothing, which retains the glamorous collar but makes it look chintzy against the rags. I also find it interesting that the residents of Morphoton that we see (Altos and the serving girls) all wear clothing that looks like it probably was pretty nice, once. It's just never been replaced, so they're forced to wear it even as it turns to tatters on their bodies. This hints at a backstory that's never expanded onscreen, so it's a really nice touch. In terms of props, the curving sword that one of the warriors wields is a fantastic design. I have a feeling I'd really like the design of the somnar discs, too, if we got a chance to see them up close. From the side and at a distance, they look appealingly swirly and refractive. And I challenge you to find another object that those two adjectives could apply to. The only costume element I really question is the judges' hats in Millennius. It's Doctor Who's earliest entry in the Silly Hats Competition, and also one of its best: the judges look as though they're wearing paper frills on their heads (the things that you put on the end of chicken legs or lamb bones to stop them burning in the oven; I've just learned that they're also sometimes called paper frill booties, or bone booties). Or possibly giant fettuccine noodles. The mace is a bit questionable, too; the front of it comes off so easily that you'd think one good whack on the noggin would probably knock it loose!
Unfortunately, one of the facets of The Keys of Marinus which I can't very well defend is the direction by John Gorrie. This is his only Doctor Who directorial credit, and it seems not to have been a smooth one.
On the plus side, Gorrie does avoid the usual 60s pitfall of framing actors in extreme close-up while their heads are moving around. In The Keys of Marinus, when Gorrie trots out a close-up, it's always done at moments of great dramatic tension, when the subject is standing still, and as a result they're extremely effective. They also have the added benefit of making the subject look really good. Notable examples include Barbara realizing "Then everything out there is acid too.", Ian finding Barbara's travel dial and telling the others "There's blood on it!", and Susan describing the sound of the jungle. I must also praise Gorrie for the way he films the Morphoton scenes when Barbara wakes up. Shots filmed from Barbara's POV show the city as it actually is, whereas all other shots show the illusion, which — because none of the other regulars can see Morphoton's true appearance — dramatically adds to the horror and the paranoia of Barbara's situation. There's even a sense that we're seeing the illusion from the "omniscient viewer" perspective, which for a moment almost makes you wonder if something really is wrong with Barbara. Gorrie also seems to have blocked these shots to maximize their effect. When one of the regulars presents something to Barbara — like the "goblet" of orange juice, or Susan's "gown" — we don't see it in full until they hold it out for her. As the viewer, you can almost feel Barbara recoil. Likewise, the moment when we see Altos staring suspiciously at Barbara / us, as Barbara intones "He knows it's failed on me.", is chilling. There are a few individual shots that I liked, as well: the bars coming down on Ian's cell after he tugs at the pickaxe; the melted warriors standing collapsed in the ice cavern; and, my favorite, the hilarious shot of Ian and the Doctor peering around the corner at one another in Arbitan's citadel in part 6!
I really like the music by Norman Kay too. It sounds so much like a B-movie soundtrack, which gives it great kitsch value, but it's also surprisingly tense, like the music over the opening shot of the island, and the lone voice singing over the mountainside scenes. There are some really effective sound effects, like the sound reminiscent of a heartbeat that accompanies the Brains of Morphoton, and I like the way that the pitch of the Conscience's hum changes as additional microcircuit keys are inserted. The jungle sounds, though, while effective, don't even remotely resemble the "whispering" that Susan and Barbara (and Darrius!) keep talking about. It sounds more like the calls of jungle animals to me.
Minor points:
Barbara: "Pity you don't have color television."
Barbara: "Ian... what is it?"
Ian: "Must be some sort of acid!"
Barbara: "But it was so fast! It just seemed to dissolve!"
Susan: "I did hear it, you know."
Barbara: (patronizingly) "Yes."
Barbara: "Well, we'd have frozen to death."
Vasor: "Nah, the wolves would've eaten you first."
Susan: "It's no good, Sabetha. We're just going deeper into the mountain."
Sabetha: "If we keep going, we must find a way out!"
Tarron: "Do you know anybody in the city?"
Ian: "Yes, I... do know someone, if I can find him."
Tarron: "Who is he?"
Ian: "Who?" (he smiles, as if amused) "He's the Doctor."
Doctor: "I've been starting and studied their laws ever since I heard that Eprin had been murdered."
Doctor: "And you, my friend..."
Ian: "Yes, what can I do, Doctor?"
Doctor: (smiling) "Trust me."
Doctor: "There's a weapon beside the body. Do you examine it?"
Barbara: "Yes. Yes, I think I would."
Doctor: "Good!"
Doctor: "My lords, let me begin by saying that the murderer is, without any doubt, in this chamber!"
Larn: "He's gone too!"
Tarron: "Yes. He told us what was going to happen, and we saw it! But nobody else has seen it. We'd be better off keeping this story to ourselves."
Larn: "How are you going to complete the report, Tarron?"
Tarron: "I shall say that... that they left. They left to take the key back to its inventor, Arbitan."
Doctor: (to Sabetha) "Goodbye. Bless you, my child."
It starts out better than it ends, but there's no denying that The Keys of Marinus is a fun ride that pretty well holds the attention from beginning to end. If you like the flexibility of Doctor Who, then you should find something to enjoy here, because The Keys of Marinus mimicks the series' locale-hopping genre-shifting style, condensed into a mere six episodes. Obviously it's not to everyone's taste, but I think it's worth watching for its occasionally creepy atmosphere and the sublime pair of Hill and Russell.