Holistic Review: Leaving aside its typical Pertwee-era padding and atypically unsuccessful effects, Invasion of the Dinosaurs lets Sarah solve the mystery of a sympathetic (but deeply immoral) plot by misguided environmentalists.
Malcolm Hulke, in my opinion, had a great talent for coming up with high-concept Doctor Who story ideas that incorporated moral messages with shades of grey, but which suffered somewhat in the translation from idea to screen (often because of — you'll never guess! — the over-padding common to the Pertwee era). Invasion of the Dinosaurs, his final story, fits perfectly into that mold. But the elements that click are really good.
Typically, Doctor Who villains are power-mad megalomaniacs, evil scientists, or greedy capitalists, with the occasional religious zealot, unscrupulous politician, and hardened criminal thrown in for good measure. Nearly always on the side of good in Doctor Who, especially during the Pertwee years, are the environmentalists. No matter what planet we're on, they're standing up for the plight of the downtrodden and pleading for the biosphere to be protected, though of course few people other than the Doctor ever pay attention.
But the environmentalists in Invasion of the Dinosaurs are done with politely trying to make people listen. Fed up with a world full of ecological and moral failings, Professor Whitaker — the world's foremost researcher in time travel — has recruited some of the UK's finest names to his cause with the promise of a new utopian world. After a mere three months' journey by spaceship, during which most of them will remain blissfully asleep in stasis, they'll arrive on New Earth, where our best and brightest can build a new human society founded on the highest of ideals.
It all sounds like a wonderful, even noble, aspiration. Whitaker's well-kept secret, however, is that there is no spaceship, really. What the pioneers think is a spaceship is actually part of a nuclear-powered bunker, hidden deep underneath central London. Instead of sending Britain's foremost academics, authors, and athletes across the stars, Whitaker plans to send them back in time, using a machine that can unwind the centuries to a point when the Earth was pristine and unsullied. The reason why Whitaker hasn't told them the truth is, of course, that sending these idealists back in time means that our modern-day pioneers will overwrite established history, wiping out the lives of billions of people who will, in the memorable words of Count Scarlioni, cease ever to have existed at all.
In most Doctor Who stories, the environmentalists are the underdog heroes, fighting back against the powerful governmental (or alien) forces that are determined to poison our planet. In Invasion of the Dinosaurs, however, the environmentalists are unfettered by morality, saving the planet at the cost of nearly every life on it, though of course they don't see it that way. It's a superb inversion of expectations for this series, and it also serves as a cautionary tale, reminding us that even the best of intentions can be turned to evil if we forget what we're ultimately fighting for: the well-being of all our fellow humans.
The end result of Whitaker's plan is positively obscene, but his motivation — if not taken to such extremes — is not only understandable but sympathetic and relatable, even to the Doctor. Who among us doesn't wish, hypothetically, that our society could be rebuilt from the ground up, without all of the corruption, greed, and careless disregard for all forms of life? We'd just prefer to do it without erasing the last 9000+ years of human culture, thank you very much. This is the kind of morally ambiguous situation that Hulke writes really well, and sadly the underlying moral lesson that he drives home at the story's end — that pollution is endangering the Earth, and that the driving force behind pollution is greed, which will unfortunately never go away — is equally if not more poignant today. Oh, we've made some strides forward in combatting pollution since 1974, but we've always taken many, many steps backward. We're still dependent on fossil fuels, which continue to pollute the atmosphere and the oceans, and plastics are a greater threat to the environment than ever before. Plus, in the USA, our ecological regulations are currently being rolled back, so that corporations can pollute the rivers and the air with impunity. And we're most certainly not any closer to solving the problem of greed. Sometimes I hate it when Doctor Who is prescient.
Aside from its unexpected use of environmentalists as the villains, the other thing that I really like about Invasion of the Dinosaurs is how well it utilizes Sarah. Her journalistic skills come in useful on multiple occasions: she consults her northern contacts about Whitaker's whereabouts, she's collated a consensus of expert opinions on Whitaker's scientific competence, she recognizes (and remembers the media publicity of) nearly everyone she meets onboard the spaceship, and she never misses an opportunity to pump people for information. But even more than her profession, the script stresses how astute she is. Sarah Jane Smith has a mind like a trap, constantly recalling important details and thinking of ideas that nobody else has considered. She comes up with the frankly brilliant approach of investigating whether any prominent scientists have been studying time-travel theory, which is what puts her onto Whitaker's trail; she instantly realizes that the vast distance to the next habitable planet makes a three-month journey impossible; and she quickly devises a way out of her closet prison, through the air duct. Perhaps most importantly of all, she (like the Brigadier) deduces that a power source is vital for whomever is causing the dinosaurs to appear, and (unlike the Brigadier) doesn't accept "there are no unaccounted-for nuclear generators in the central London area" or "I don't think any of them were ever built" at face value. Here again, her journalistic experience pays off, because she recalls having heard about plans for a governmental atomic bunker, and tenaciously investigates this lead until she arrives at the truth. Along those same lines, Sarah demonstrates a quite remarkable level of bravery, to the point that she comes across as fearless. Not only does she repeatedly pursue these leads into situations that endanger her life, she goes charging after an armed robber, she marches right up to a sleeping T. rex to take its picture, she tries to work the controls of an evidently-advanced spaceship (though what she was trying to accomplish, before she discovered they were non-responsive, I don't know), and she even risks stepping out of an airlock without a protective suit to prove that it's a fake.
Hulke also incorporates Sarah's feminist ideology brilliantly — in fact, probably the best of any story during her entire tenure — not by having her explicitly lecture people, but by repeatedly illustrating the exact problems (well, more or less!) that women often face, particularly in the workplace. Time after time, Sarah comes up with valuable insights and creative suggestions, only to be shot down or ignored, even by men like the Brigadier who are fully on her side and have the utmost respect for her skills. The Brigadier cuts off her story of their travails in medieval England, the Doctor can't bother to satisfy her curiosity about his stun gun ("Ask Captain Yates, there's a good girl"), and Grover (with ulterior motives) contradicts and effectively dismisses her evidence in support of Whitaker's brilliance, simply by claiming that his sources (as if that settles the matter) have evaluated the professor's time travel theories as "worthless". (Fortunately, at least nobody asks her to make the tea; this week, that job is given to Private Bryson!) One notable exception is the scene in which Finch responds to Sarah speaking up in the UNIT boardroom by silencing her and attempting to order her out of the room. In response, the Doctor not only legitimizes her presence, but makes certain that Sarah gets to voice, and take credit for, her ideas during the meeting. That moment is so powerful, not only because the Doctor takes her side, but because that kind of allyship is exactly the procedure that men are being encouraged to follow today when supporting their female colleagues who aren't being given equal time or respect. It actually made me emotional to watch.
Importantly, Sarah refuses to be put off when everyone tells her that her ideas are ridiculous, or that she should go home and rest. She knows that her hunches are worth pursuing, and she refuses to play nice and drop it. ("I'm not going to let go of this," she fumes.) Rather than meekly deferring to their opinions, Sarah — driven by her convictions — forges ahead independently, and demonstrates her capability and intellectual worth without regard to what anyone else thinks. As a result, she's clearly shown to be more intelligent and resourceful than all the men and military officers around her. This is partly why episode 3 features one of the best cliffhangers that never was, when Sarah is knocked unconscious by a piece of falling wood during a T. rex attack: not only is it a very tense scene, Sarah wasn't a helpless sacrifice. She was proactively doing her job when she was attacked. All of this portrays Sarah as an exceptionally smart, lateral-thinking character bursting with initiative, and therefore she's very easy to cheer on. After her not-entirely-lovable depiction in The Time Warrior, Sarah needed exactly this kind of character development. It's a superlative example of how to use a companion well.
Sarah's investigation is, in fact, so successful that from episode 3 onward, she remains several steps ahead of everyone else, even the Doctor. She drives the story like Keanu Reeves in Speed, pedal to the metal without letting up. The corresponding downside is that, as a result, the Doctor barely accomplishes anything, spending all his time on attempts to capture a dinosaur so that he can trace the energy readings back to their source. It's unquestionably a clever scheme, but it doesn't half take him forever, and it never does succeed. Meanwhile, Sarah has long since accomplished the same task through good old-fashioned investigative legwork, and succeeds in leading a rebellion onboard the ship, to boot! Fortunately, the Doctor does become vital to the story's resolution, when Whitaker activates the time field and the Doctor — the only person in the room who isn't frozen by the time eddy — is able to reverse it and save the day.
During the Pertwee era, we're used to seeing the Doctor all chummy with the military and the government. Not everyone, of course — the "pompous, incompetent official who wouldn't recognize the truth if it hit him on the head" (it's invariably a 'him') is a stock trope of this era, embodied in this story by General Finch. Still, even when they vehemently disagree, there's generally no question that the Doctor and the officials are working for the same side. But this week, numerous forces in the government — by design, the only ones who remain in positions of power during this time of martial law — are all arrayed against the Doctor. It's not even just a single traitor, as in certain other Pertwee stories which I will not mention for fear of spoilers, but literally everyone who's left in charge. Meaning that as soon as the Doctor's investigation threatens to uncover them, the story turns into an all-out manhunt, with all the available governmental forces determinedly tracking the Doctor down to neutralize him. Never before — especially during this more establishment-friendly era of Doctor Who — has the Doctor been a wanted man by the British government. Or at least, not in this reality. The concept worked brilliantly in Inferno, and it's similarly effective here.
This does, of course, put UNIT — particularly the Brigadier — in a deeply awkward situation. There surely cannot be a single moment during which any of the UNIT officers believes that the Doctor, a man by whose side they've saved the world dozens of times already, could possibly be the one behind the dinosaur attacks. Yet they have no choice but to obey Finch, their superior officer, who insists that the Doctor is responsible, and must be imprisoned. Everyone knows he's wrong, but nobody can stand up to him. (I'm reminded of our current COVID-19 pandemic, in which the CDC and other medical experts working for the government are forced to smile and nod and reluctantly publish official substantiation as President Trump suggests that the novel coronavirus might be cured by injecting disinfectants or shining UV lights inside our bodies, lest he be enraged by their public disagreement and fire them in retaliation. Oh, how I hope to look back on this review in a few years' time and just laugh about how bad things once were.)
The most particularly interesting consequence of this development is that Invasion of the Dinosaurs makes it personal, by involving not only General Finch and Professor Whitaker in the conspiracy, but our dear Captain Mike Yates. We're never told exactly what swayed Yates to Whitaker's side, but he implies that his experience in Llanfairfach affected him more than we realized, and he's now become as much of an environmental crusader as Jo ever was. There's also an implication that he was taking time off for his mental health, after being hypnotized by BOSS, which suggests that he may have been particularly impressionable to Whitaker's argument, if he was feeling shaken by his experience and emotionally vulnerable. Regardless, it's a shock to find that Yates has essentially turned traitor, even though the script drops hints on numerous occasions, as Yates continually tries to persuade the Doctor that his theories are wrong. He suggests that perhaps there's a natural explanation behind the dinosaurs' appearances, he insists that central London has been completely evacuated, and he pays extra-close attention to the workings of the Doctor's stun gun and energy-tracking setup. Fortunately, despite working for the other side — though Yates is absolutely right that the Doctor would be sympathetic to Whitaker's ideals, if not his methods — Yates maintains his integrity, and while he reluctantly agrees to commit minor sabotage, he steadfastly refuses to be involved in any actions that could harm anyone or endanger lives. Shock aside, it's fantastic to see the series taking such risks with its semi-regular characters. It certainly gives Richard Franklin the chance to stretch his acting muscles and explore a new dimension to Yates, and it deepens the character immeasurably. It's just a shame that after this story, Yates only returns once more for his rehabilitation, and thereafter disappears from the series.
The brilliant minds behind Operation Golden Age do make a couple of dunderheaded mistakes, though.
The story's resolution, though, is superb and fitting, as Whitaker and Grover accidentally send themselves — and only themselves (plus a single computer console) — back in time. Good luck with living in the past, boys; hope you manage to enjoy each other's company for however much time you have left. (Notice that the Doctor never even entertains the notion of taking the TARDIS back to rescue them!)
The only element of the conspiracy that really gives me pause is the relationship between Sarah and Finch. From the moment they meet, they're at loggerheads, because Finch strongly objects to a civilian being present at a classified operation. Sarah, in turn, gets Benton to rustle her up a visitor's pass, providing she stays out of Finch's way, lest he try to kick her out again. So, with strict instructions to avoid Finch, what does she do next? She marches straight to the room he's in, draws attention to herself, and then confides in Finch — FINCH! — about how annoying it is that nobody listens to her. All I can say is... facepalm. At this point, one would expect Finch to waste no time in escorting her off the premises post-haste. Instead, he listens sympathetically, and then offers to help her out. With his personal car, even! Specifically what is he offering to help her with, you ask? Why, to fetch her camera so that she can take photographs of a classified dinosaur for her civilian job! After the Brigadier has already denied her permission! Surely, I thought, it must be a trap. Mais non! Finch actually stays true to his word! Why he decides to play this little game, we're never told, but it pays dividends when Sarah, having escaped from the underground bunker, confides in him again as if they're besties and he's won her complete trust. Since when did she even like him, much less trust him???
Of course, this story is not widely remembered for its unorthodox villains, its government conspiracy, or its feminist message. No, its main selling point — and also its main drawback — is its monsters: a menagerie of dinosaurs, both docile and vicious, but all gigantic and dangerous. Are the dinosaurs vital to the story? Weeellll, not really. Are they exciting, especially for children? Way very. Are they convincing? Way very not. Alas, never for one second are they believable. Part of the problem is that the characters can almost never get close to a dinosaur, so the threat always seems to be at a remove. The bigger problem, of course, is that these are not impressively detailed and articulated models, but rather tiny and barely-flexible puppets. It feels churlish to criticize them, because the story requires five different types of dinosaur, and you know the budget was never going to stretch to five equally-impressive realistic animatronic dinosaurs. But even just one would've helped. (Though, wait: knock me over with a feather. According to Barry Letts, these were actually not puppets, but rather full-size costumes?! I had no idea, and you certainly can't tell onscreen. The costumes are so lacking in fine detail and jointed movement that they appear completely indistinguishable from puppets filmed using forced perspective. If they were puppets, their flaws would at least be understandable; as full-sized costumes, they are not. Hoo boy, I'm sad to say that was not the wisest use of funds! The production team must have been absolutely gutted when saw how their elaborate dino suits had turned out.)
In order to evaluate them properly, I've decided to rank them in order. (The props are obviously re-used, but they appear more convincing on certain occasions than on others.) My Favorite Dinosaurs are:
Because the dinosaurs' appearance has forced central London to be evacuated by the time the Doctor and Sarah return, episode one is an atmospheric and mysterious gem. I love that, for this one and only time, the production team took pains to avoid the whacking great spoiler in the title. (Even if it did end up sounding like a rerun of Troughton's The Invasion.) Which means that, like the Doctor and Sarah, the audience has absolutely no idea why London is so deserted. (Well, assuming they weren't spoiled on the dinosaurs' appearance by the serial's publicity.) Aside from the odd looter here or there, there are no people, no buses, no traffic at all. Just the occasional skulking animal, litter drifting on the breeze, and signs of daily life abruptly interrupted, like spilled purses and abandoned toys. Watching our TARDIS team slowly realize that things are amiss, strolling through the empty city streets filmed with eerie stillness by Paddy Russell, is wonderfully disconcerting. Here again, it was an unsettling choice of story to review (by pure coincidence) during the COVID-19 pandemic. ("Have you noticed the air?" marvels Yates. "It's clean. No cars, no people. Do you know, yesterday I saw a fox in Piccadilly?" Yep, 100% can relate.) Still, could've been worse: I could've been reviewing The Silurians, The Invisible Enemy, or Terminus. Naturally, Invasion of the Dinosaurs' version of what a complete upheaval in modern-day society might look like is rather different to the actuality in 2020. They have looters, military-run detention centres, talk of locking away criminals for decades, and random dinosaur attacks. We have armed protestors in government buildings, people throwing fits about having to wear protective masks in shops, and the prospect of murder hornets.
Then, halfway through the story, the plot springs a major twist on us, by revealing that an unconscious Sarah was apparently smuggled onto an interplanetary spaceship... where she eventually awakens, three months later, just as the ship is about to arrive at its destination, New Earth! This wrenching dislocation is frankly brilliant, not only in that it startles the audience almost as greatly as it startles Sarah, but also because it gives the story a real injection of energy around the mid-point, when many six-parters are flagging. This shocking revelation makes for one of the series' most impactful cliffhangers, in an episode that already boasts one other superb cliffhanger-worthy moment. But don't you just wanna slip a note to Whitaker and Grover? "Warning: putting an extremely dogged investigative reporter and time traveller, who has just uncovered your top-secret scheme within a single day, onto your fake spaceship sounds like the biggest mistake you'll ever make. You may have succeeded thus far in deluding dozens of people that they're on an interstellar craft, but she'll see through your ruse within hours." And sure enough! Thanks to the unresponsive controls, and the bump on her head from episode 3 (which turns out to be a vital plot detail), Sarah swiftly realizes it's all a hoax. This is especially to Sarah's credit given that Whitaker's 'spaceship' is the first one she's ever been on, so she doesn't even know yet how a real spaceship is supposed to look or work!
The spaceship passengers, too, echo the story's themes of moral ambiguity and noble intentions corrupted to evil. On one hand, they hope to establish an enlightened human society built on equality, honesty, and upstanding virtue. But on the other, they tyrannically insist on absolute conformity, with no deviation in thought, and they sanction the murder of "disruptive influences". Hardly the exemplary paradise we've been sold.
Whitaker's plan does raise a few questions and potential plot problems, namely:
Still, even with all of those problems, it's a really engaging plot twist. I had remembered this 'fake spaceship' thread as being cornier than it is, but it's actually perhaps the most effective part of the story.
Regrettably — though unsurprisingly — the way the story is structured, there's quite a lot of padding, much of it of the capture-and-escape variety. The problem is that if everything went according to plan for our resourceful heroes, they'd have had no problem pinpointing the secret base lickety-split. Therefore, they cannot be allowed to succeed. So in episode 1, they're prevented from reaching UNIT HQ when they're captured as looters. Episode 2 is largely taken up with the Doctor trying but failing to capture a dinosaur. (Even when he finally succeeds, the entire endeavour is rendered worthless when his machine is sabotaged, and records no readings.) During the middle episodes, the surprise reveal of Yates' involvement grabs the viewer's attention, but it leads to a long string of investigation-and-sabotage that draws out the plot, as Yates repeatedly causes the Doctor's plans to fail. Then, in part 5, we have a double-pronged attempt to stave off the final confrontation: Sarah actually manages to escape the base but, rather than leading the cavalry straight to it, she decides to confide in a member of the opposition (see above, re: facepalm) and gets brought straight back, having accomplished almost nothing but leaving a clue for the Doctor. He, meanwhile, has been engaged in an episode-long car (and helicopter) chase, as the government hounds hunt him down, which is rather yawnsome though it is at least resolved cleverly, when he mimicks a UNIT officer to get the hunt called off. Granted, all this is in service of interesting plot elements — the manhunt emphasizes the threat of the government conspiracy, and of course you can't have a story called Invasion of the Dinosaurs without stuffing it full of as many dinosaur encounters as possible — but it's still basically padding. Yet again, this is a story that should've been 4 episodes rather than 6; most of parts 2 and 5 could easily have been cut.
Even though he's sidelined from the plot, this is a great story for the third Doctor in terms of characterization. Despite their rocky start, his relationship with Sarah is already showing great promise: they share a comfortable ease and warm rapport in one another's presence, they brainstorm ideas confidently, and he's able to curb her more rash impulses. One of my favorite scenes is in the detention centre: as they're getting their mugshots taken, the Doctor remains jolly and unbothered. He beams with amusement the whole time, chivalrously bows for Sarah to take his place in front of the camera, and after their photos are taken, he steps forward and puts his arm around Sarah: "Now, what about one of both of us?" I LOLed, and he's clearly keeping Sarah's spirits up too. He does have a few nice plot moments, as well, especially when he calls Finch's bluff: now that they've captured the man behind the dinosaur rampages (himself, apparently), the evacuation can be cancelled... right? (Naturally, Finch dodges this suggestion.) His Venusian aikido enables him to quickly incapacitate their detention-centre guard with a simple neck-pinch, and later fell Butler with a genuinely painful-looking stomach chop.
Pertwee's knack for accents comes in handy when the Doctor decides to stage a fight with Locke to facilitate their escape ("You're the narc, aren't ya? It was you wot grassed on us!") and again when he imitates a UNIT officer over the radio. Loved Pertwee's reaction when the Doctor realizes that the soldiers think he's a looter, and his delivery of "Oh! What a good idea!", "Oh." (when he learns Sarah left in the general's car; one vowel, fathoms of meaning), "You'll forgive me, Minister, if I prefer to believe the evidence of my own eyes.", and "Look, I understand your ideals, and in many ways I sympathize with them."
The third Doctor gets a new vehicle this week, too: the very superhero-y (in both design and name) Whomobile, a zippy but chonky hovercraft that looks awfully challenging to get in and out of, but glides nimbly down London streets. Mind you, she's not going to be much good in Britain's famously rainy weather; she appears not to have a top, and even if she did, the Doctor is several inches taller than the height of the windshield. We're never told why exactly he's decided to abandon poor Bessie; fortunately she will, in the end, outlast this Whomobile interloper. Still, despite my gentle teasing, I do actually like the design; its wings are stylish, as is its chrome and red color scheme.
I'm delighted that for her second story, Sarah Jane Smith is characterized just as strongly as in her début, and in many ways even better. Her surliness has been toned down, making her more likeable, but she hasn't lost any of her outspokenness, as in this excellent exchange:
Now that Sarah's back on her home turf, she's able to make full use of her journalistic instincts and resources. She's apparently wired to leap into action when people need help — she twice attempts to fight off a man who's threatening the Doctor, she instinctively wants to pursue the jewellery thief (the Doctor actually has to hold her back), and she even inquisitively offers to help the Doctor build his hi-tech stun gun — but she's not typically impetuous. Sarah consistently formulates a plan of action, and she wisely remains wary; for example, when they arrive in London, Sarah is cautious to the point of being jumpy about making sure they've come home safely in the right time. She distinguishes herself strongly from Jo, especially when she holds her hands over her ears in order to block out the Golden Age anti-pollution propaganda. As usual, Sladen enhances her performance ever so much by not only her intonation, but by fleshing out her lines with subtle physical and verbal embellishments that make the scripted words seem effortlessly naturalistic. Get ready for a long list of examples: her nod toward the chairs when Norton demands that she and the Doctor sit down; her looking frantically around for a makeshift weapon before she leaps onto the peasant's back; her chummy punch on Yates' arm; Sarah's impatience to get to the point of her time-travel research story, conveyed mainly through intonation and timing; her petulant smack of the chair in the room where Grover hypnotizes her; her extremely subtle performance (that I didn't catch at first) when she notices, and clocks the implication of, the bump on her forehead just as she's reeling about having been on the spaceship for "three months?!"; her sigh before "Well, you're never going to believe this"; the way she grabs Finch's elbow before realizing that perhaps that was overly familiar; and the moment when she thinks she's broken a nail while pulling off the air-duct cover; along with her delivery of "Oh, one or two have dabbled.", and "Oh, they told you to look after me." Absolutely peerless. Also, I like Sarah's leather jacket.
The Brigadier feels like a fairly minor character this week, maybe because he's playing second fiddle to General Finch, but he gets a few good scenes, particularly when he's finally able to stand up to General Finch and protect the Doctor. He shows an admirable ability to keep his eye on the big picture — like the Doctor, he realizes that the looting is a distraction from the real problem — and he, too, demonstrates his integrity, when he tries to put his foot down at Finch's suggestion that looters should be shot. Still, I always find it uncomfortable to watch him take out his short temper on his subordinates, like yelling at Yates for (reasonably) pointing out that they'll need more detention centres, and rewarding Benton with sarcasm rather than commending him for observing that the radio interference is probably linked to the dinosaurs' appearances, simply because he'd already considered the idea.
Richard Franklin effortlessly rises to the challenges presented by the script's more dramatic, layered portrayal of Mike Yates. His performance clearly implies the turmoil roiling under Yates' cheery exterior, making his crisis of conscience seem like a genuinely deep personal struggle. A major plus is that his involvement unquestionably makes the conspiracy more gripping. Scenes between Whitaker and Butler, even as wonderful as the actors are, tend not to grab the viewer's interest, but add Yates into the mix and — thanks particularly to Franklin's energetic, naturalistic delivery — those scenes come alive. His early two-hander with Sarah is especially wonderful, the wistfulness in his voice as he rhapsodizes about the quiet city streets contrasting with his flat disinterest when he politely agrees with Sarah's assertion that the old busy London was better. Great delivery of "I'll do what I can", though he falters slightly over "You're a ci– civilian."
Thank goodness (as usual) for dear Sergeant Benton, who saves the day twice over when he knocks out not just Yates, but even Finch! It's a well-choreographed and convincing fight scene, too. Benton is also the only character whose loyalty remains obviously with the Doctor and Sarah throughout the story, which leads to this lovely scene, so well performed by John Levene as Benton psyches himself up to be knocked out:
As usual, he's the very definition of 'adorable'. Benton geeks out over his map of dinosaur sightings, color-coded by species (a man after my own heart!), and this scene made me LOL, when Benton thinks that the Brigadier has left the room:
Naturally, the Brigadier is not amused by any of these things. Levene also gives a charming delivery on "Apato-something?", "Yes, of course." (when the Doctor asks for more equipment), and the dread in his voice on "Yeah." (as he waits for the Doctor's neck-pinch).
To my surprise, Invasion of the Dinosaurs boasts my two favorite non-regular UNIT characters since Corporal Bell. First up is Private Ogden (George Bryson), who sadly only appears in part two and gets next to nothing to do except man the radio-telephone, but it's absolutely delightful to hear a Scots accent among the UNIT personnel. Second in order of appearance, though secretly my favorite (shh, don't tell Ogden), is the earnest Private Bryson (Colin Bell). Bell gives such a fun performance, with a great delivery of every single line (notable favorites including "Well, he's out." and "Well, in — in that case, sir, er, what should I do?") and superb background acting when he isn't speaking (like his sympathetic expression as Sarah sighs with frustration, his mouthed "oh!" when Finch tells him to get out, or his delight at being ordered to go and make the tea). I love it when actors really make the most of their limited screentime, and Bell is a quintessential example. He strikes me as an actor who couldn't deliver a line blandly to save his life, as a result of which Bryson is bursting with personality. I'm sorry to see that Invasion of the Dinosaurs was one of Bell's last acting credits, because he's truly excellent. It's a grand shame that the character never returned! On the strength of his performance, it unquestionably should have happened.
Corporal Norton (Martin Taylor), who arrests the Doctor and Sarah as looters, is unfortunately only in two scenes; he gives a great performance as a gruff, threatening soldier who has no intention of looking for the best in anyone. In the detention centre, Sergeant Duffy (Dave Carter) is clearly bored as all get-out with prisoner intake, and likewise has no patience for distractions. (Why he accepts "You'd never believe me" when he asks for the Doctor's age, I have no idea. His forms do need filling out, after all!) Ben Aris only has one scene as Lieutenant Shears — who's responsible for swooping into the detention centre, sentencing the looters, and swooping out — but it's a good one. I was amused, in particular, that Lodge's excuse ("I, er, found the stuff, see? I was gonna hand it in.") was so transparently false, yet unfortunately identical to what the Doctor and Sarah actually were doing... so of course Shears doesn't believe them for a second.
John Caesar seems to be treading water as the soldier who attacks the T. rex in part one and reports back to Ogden. He sounds utterly unconcerned on the line "It's coming straight for us, sir, and we're trapped." He's only in the one scene, but as Bryson has demonstrated, you can easily make your mark on a single scene.
Gordon Reid gives a fantastic performance as doomed looter Phillips, very circumspect and squirrely. Love the way he sidles out of the shop while keeping his shotgun trained on the TARDIS crew. Trevor Lawrence is even better as convicted looter Lodge, who positively oozes untrustworthiness and an insouciant attitude. His delivery of "I was gonna hand it in" is fantastic.
"This professor reminds me of Peter Miles," reads my notes, on our first glimpse of Professor Whitaker. Turns out there's a very good reason for that! On the strength of this performance, I can absolutely see why he was hired as Nyder the following year. In Miles' hands, Whitaker comes across as chillingly amoral in pursuit of his goals. His assistant Butler is played by the redoubtable Martin Jarvis, who counters Miles' icy performance with a blithe, almost sensual air. Which is a good thing, because Butler gets zero characterization beyond what Jarvis brings to the part. We don't really even know for sure who Butler is; I say 'assistant', but sometimes he acts like a scientist Whitaker's equal. Who can say! Thank goodness Jarvis' performance brightens up what could have been an exceedingly dull character. He even gives Butler a twisted sense of humor, as he clearly enjoys playing cat-and-mouse with the Doctor and the bunker's bulkhead doors.
Invasion of the Dinosaurs is quite the parade of top-notch Doctor Who guest stars in less-memorable roles, isn't it? All it needs is Michael Sheard playing the tea lady. This week, the role of Rotating UNIT Superior Officer is played by John Bennett, future Li H'sen Chang and current traitor General Finch. Even when we're still assuming that Finch is basically one of the good guys, he comes across as cold and closed-minded, and most certainly not on the side of either the Brigadier or the Doctor. Still, bravo to John Bennett for somehow straddling the line between "brusque military commander" and "secretly kindhearted friend for Sarah". It may not make sense, but he makes it work. Outside his scenes with Sladen, his lines are mainly stock military/villain dialogue, but I enjoyed his delivery of "He's probably on his way here now."
The real surprise is kindly, harmless-looking Right (dis)Honourable Charles Grover (Noel Johnson). He not only seems destined to be an ally for UNIT, but a kindred spirit for the Doctor, who delightedly chats away with Grover about their shared interest in anti-pollution crusading. (Naturally, after shooing away Yates, Sarah, and the Brigadier, the Doctor is perfectly happy to discuss his work-in-progress with Grover!) It's a charming performance from Johnson, in whose hands Grover seems ever so friendly and eager to help, which makes his betrayal that much more painful. When Sarah pays him a visit to share her suspicions, his supportive reaction to her theory seems completely trustworthy... until he leads her into the file room, and a black panel slides silently shut behind them. Uh-oh.
Though the plot gets a boost from the introduction of the spaceship setting, its passengers are, unfortunately, not equally as energizing. Creepily, they've all adopted New Earth pseudonyms, rather than using their real first names, which already tells me that this whole enterprise is shady. Sarah's main ally is Mark (Terence Wilton), the athlete formerly known as John Crichton. Though ultimately friendly and sympathetic, Mark comes across as exceedingly naïve, possibly to the point of being simple-minded, as he grins inanely while giving Sarah the ship's tour, and faithfully spouts bland cult-like jargon. He also gets the story's worst line: "Soon we shall arrive on the planet that is to be our new home." Aside from the stilted formality of the line, is Mark allergic to contractions? I fear that Wilton's performance doesn't help to salvage it; he likewise sounds more thoughtful than enraged when he refuses to cooperate with Grover's true plan: "What you're doing is criminal. [...] No. Never."
What a delight to have Carmen Silvera back, playing Ruth (formerly Lady Cunningford), after her appearance(s) in my much-missed Celestial Toymaker. Following her initial impression as a caring maternal figure, Ruth very swiftly transforms into the most frightening zealot on the entire ship. But her severe demeanor and fanatical adherence to the doctrines of Operation Golden Age are the least of her issues. I mean, really, who in their right mind says things like "If she doesn't respond to re-education, we shall have to destroy her"? Unless Ruth is a closet Fortnite gamer who settles her arguments on the virtual battleground. Still, I sense a hint of psychopathy, which surely makes her an even more "disruptive" influence on their new society. Brian Badcoe is all smiles as likeable Adam (ex-novelist Nigel Castle), and perhaps the character's relaxed demeanour leads Badcoe to give the most naturalistic performance from among the ship's passengers. But even he gets some rather stilted dialogue, like "It'll be our task to guide them, to see that the evil developed on Earth will not be repeated." Badcoe is great in scenes where Adam struggles with how to handle Mark and Sarah's rebellious thoughts, and the moment when Adam accidentally starts speaking to Grover before switching the communicator to 'transmit' mode. Finally, Timothy Craven plays Robinson, one of the newly-awoken pilgrims in part six, who indignantly reports having sold his house before committing to this voyage. He only has five lines, but since one of them is humorous, it gives his character at least a bit of depth.
The superstitious peasant in part 2 is played by James Marcus. His pleading for the Doctor to return him home is great, but it doesn't quite fit with his subsequent murderous rage, and I'm not sure his "I've been transported here by a witch" acting is totally convincing. Then again, "I've been transported here by a witch" acting is certainly not the sort of thing one is asked to do on Z Cars. At any rate, he makes the peasant lively and memorable, and that's all that's really required.
Dudley Simpson's music is fairly standard for this period of the series, but I really enjoyed the score during the scene of Sarah getting hypnotized (or whatever), and as the Doctor explores the underground bunker.
If you can look past the dinosaurs, some of the effects in this story are absolutely magnificent. One of my favorites is the glowing red retina-like effect when people and dinosaurs are transported through time. Its first appearance is especially impressive, as the reversed footage of Sarah un-grappling with the peasant merges seamlessly with the shot of her staring in confusion at the spot where he disappeared. After viewing it several times, I still can't figure out how exactly they accomplished that effect. Another really impressive effect is the lift in the Underground station ascending and descending on the other side of the closet door, which is achieved purely through lighting. Invasion of the Dinosaurs is also notable for its real actual helicopter, featuring shots from the real actual helicopter cockpit, which look fantastic. They certainly got their money's worth for that rental, though I'm not sure it was quite worth the cost-cutting strategy of turning part 5 into one long chase sequence. I also liked the just-realistic-enough shots of the damaged car and the looter's gruesome bloodied corpse, and the Doctor's homemade stun gun has a sleek and futuristic design. For a CSO effect, the shot of the Doctor struggling against the time eddy to turn off Whitaker's machine is surprisingly effective. On the 'oopsie' side, the yellow CSO backdrop in the hangar reflects off Sarah's camera bag, and the smoke from the Brigadier's flare disappears as he approaches the triceratops.
The spaceship set, in robin's-egg and royal blue, provides a nice pop of color in the story. The design is pleasant if not particularly inventive, but the ridged plexiglass walls echo the horizontal channel-tufted banquettes, and they allow for some depth of field, although alas, the director almost never takes advantage of it, except for one shot of Sarah keeping an eye on Adam before she sneaks into the control room.
Paddy Russell's direction doesn't stick out as particularly flashy or impressive, but it's perfectly fine. I was pleased that even when she frames moving characters in close-up, the camera always keeps its subject(s) in frame; a good, if brief, example is when the camera tracks Elisabeth Sladen when Sarah leans forward on "But why?", then pans over and upward to Jon Pertwee without faltering. One of her best shots, which I didn't even notice at first, comes when Sarah ponders the possible hatching of a baby dinosaur. Russell frames Sladen in the foreground, slightly right of center, and behind her — practically in full view, but out-of-focus in the shadows, so barely noticeable — is the angry peasant, which surely must have given any eagle-eyed viewers a fright! I also liked the shot of the Doctor sorting equipment components while the Brigadier phones for a jeep. And of course I have to give Russell and her film crew major credit for taking the initiative to do an unauthorized location shoot, capturing early-morning footage of an 'abandoned' London to enhance the story's verisimilitude.
Invasion of the Dinosaurs is yet another story that I've hardly ever watched — in fact, very possibly the story I've watched least, barring missing ones — so I had no idea how I'd feel about it on this rewatch. I know I saw the whole thing at some point, but I can only remember having watched it once as a child, with my cousin Gray, when we decided to put on one of his Pertwee PBS recordings (from WSWP-TV, he tells me). I can still recall lying on the rug in front of the entertainment center (a big converted antique cabinet) in their living room to watch it. But the beginning of the story really threw me off, because it felt like we were missing something... which of course we were. Part One. (And a bit of part two: his tape didn't start until just before the Doctor and Sarah confront the spooked peasant in the garage.) I'm not even sure we finished the story; I feel like I was so thrown off by the abrupt beginning that I asked to switch to a different one! After that, I probably didn't see the story again — and had never seen Part One at all — until it was released on VHS in 2003, and I feel sure I only watched it the once.
Comparing the end of part 1 with its reprise at the start of part 2, there's no question that the loss of the color print is a wound that may never heal. Still, as Doctor Who wounds go, it's an exceedingly minor one. We're very, very lucky to still have a black-and-white print of the episode. And though it's far from perfect, the color recovery makes it almost possible to squint and ignore the washed-out hues that periodically fade to B&W at the edges of the frame.
Minor points:
Sarah: (re: the nonfunctional phone booth) "It's probably been vandalized."
Doctor: "That's a very unfair word, you know. Because actually, the Vandals were quite decent chaps."
Finch: "Waiting for this mysterious scientific advisor of yours to turn up?"
Brigadier: "That's right, sir."
Finch: "Hmm. I suppose he'll just materialize out of thin air."
Brigadier: "Very probably."
Duffy: "Names?"
Sarah: "Sarah Jane Smith."
Duffy: (to the Doctor) "Name?"
Doctor: "Doctor John Smith. No relation."
Peasant: "Send me home or you die!"
Doctor: "I'm afraid I don't have that power."
Finch: "We've been waiting for you, you know. May I ask where you've been?"
Doctor: "Certainly."
Finch: "...Well?"
Doctor: "You can ask, but I don't guarantee that you'll get a reply."
Doctor: "If they could overcome that, they'd probably –"
Sarah: "I think someone has."
Doctor: "What, on this planet?"
Sarah: "This is the only one I've been able to check up on, Doctor."
Grover: "That's a very ingenious theory, young lady. What does the Brigadier think about it? Or the Doctor?"
Sarah: "I'm not telling anyone about it, until I can get some evidence."
Doctor: "Welp, there you are, Sarah. I told you I'd get you home safely, didn't I?"
Sarah: (grinning) "Oh! Of all the cheek!"
Doctor: "Well, it's not my fault if people get up to no good while we were away."
It's not exactly edge-of-your-seat TV, and the rather embarrassing dinosaurs certainly don't boost its cultural cachet, but there are some nuggets of real gold in Invasion of the Dinosaurs. The stakes are high, with all of human history at risk of being wiped out of existence. Its moral message — "don't dwell on the past, forge a brighter future", particularly with regard to combatting pollution — underpins the story well, and the use of environmentalists as antagonists approaches the topic from a fresh angle. Best of all, Sarah gets a plum role in the plot, and runs rings around even the Doctor. Overall, much stronger than I had remembered, and definitely worth a look. Especially if you have little ones with a high tolerance for not-so-realistic toy dinosaurs.