Friday, August 25, 2017

Bell of Doom (The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve Episode 4)


The one where Steven goes into a strop and storms off the TARDIS...

Steven Taylor thinks his friend the Doctor is dead. He is a space pilot from the far future lost in the folds of history, in a strange time and country where it seems everybody wants you dead because of what you believe in. The only thing I reckon Steven Taylor truly believes in is himself. He is a very self-assured, self-confident character, which probably explains how he accepts the death of the Doctor so quickly and turns his attentions to self-preservation. He and Anne search Preslin's shop looking for the Doctor's clothes, and with them, Steven hopes, the TARDIS key. Because as a self-assured space pilot from the far future, he seems sure he'll be able to fly the TARDIS and escape 16th century France on his own.

I used to think Steven Taylor was a cookie-cutter replacement for Ian Chesterton's Dan Dare heroism, simply a younger incarnation of the requisite masculinity and brawn that formed a key part of Sixties Doctor Who (Ian, Steven, Ben, Jamie). But as I've watched and listened to his episodes through I've come to realise that Steven Taylor was actually quite a selfish, mildly unlikeable man whose stubborn confidence in his own thoughts and opinions never allowed him to become as endearing as his predecessor or successors. Peter Purves performs the written character well, but also gives Steven a certain cocky demeanour which I find slightly irritating.

It's a blessing when the Doctor finally reappears, with no satisfactory explanation as to where he's been (he says he was "unavoidably delayed" and that's that!). It means we can start to get some context for events, as well as some welcome detached perspective. As soon as the Doctor discovers the year and date (August 23rd, 1572) he realises what terrible danger they are in, and urges Anne to make for her aunt's house and seek safety. He knows what is coming, what is about to hit the streets of Paris, so it's a little surprising that he encourages Anne to break the curfew, but he means well all the same.

It transpires that Steven doesn't think the same way. Once the travellers have returned to the TARDIS, the Doctor fills his friend in on what happened in Paris during the Massacre of St Bartholomew's Day, confirming that over 10,000 people lost their lives, including the Admiral de Coligny and Nicholas (it's at this point that I realise the Doctor has spent next to no time in the company of any of the guest characters except Anne). Steven is appalled that the Doctor could allow Anne to perish in the massacre, and questions the time traveller's regard for human life. He asks why the Doctor couldn't take Anne with them aboard the TARDIS (as he did with Katarina). The Doctor maintains that he could not meddle with history, and that he was right to do as he did.

I agree. Steven is overreacting and blowing this out of all proportion. The Doctor can't scoop people out of history every time they get into danger. Removing people from history - even supposedly unimportant people like Anne Chaplet - is a risky business. Imagine if he'd taken Princess Joanna away in the TARDIS, or Poppaea or Kublai Khan? Of course, the Doctor removes people from history every time he gains a new companion - including future history - and that's overlooked somewhat (even Steven is removed from his own timeline on Mechanus).

Steven decides to storm off the TARDIS at the very next place they land (isn't he lucky it's present-day Earth and not somewhere like Kembel or Drahva?). And just by coincidence, a young girl runs across Wimbledon Common toward a police box in order to raise help after a young boy is involved in an accident. She bursts into the TARDIS, only to find a strange white-haired old man all alone in a vast, minimalist spaceship. She takes it all on board with great humour, and doesn't mind at all when she is whisked away into space and time when Steven hurriedly returns and warns the Doctor that two policemen are coming toward the TARDIS.

That's a bit rubbish. Why is the Doctor so concerned about two policemen finding their way into the Ship when all he needs to do is lock the doors? He doesn't need to take off, essentially abducting this young stranger in the process. But he does, perhaps because, subliminally, he realises this girl looks remarkably like his granddaughter Susan. He feels he needs a replacement figure, someone to bounce off like he did with Vicki. Her name is Dorothea Chaplet (Dodo for short) and it's possible - just possible - that she is a descendant of Anne Chaplet from back in 1572. Which suggests that she did survive the massacre (it also suggests she married a man who shared the same surname). It's all very convenient, but perhaps the TARDIS did it on purpose? Perhaps it took the Doctor and Steven to that exact place and time so that they could meet Dodo and be convinced that Anne survived and that the Doctor was right to do as he did. The TARDIS is on its pilot's side, after all. Anne Chaplet may not be able to travel in the TARDIS, but her descendant Dodo can. The Doctor raises no objection to scooping Dodo out of her timeline, out of her established history, but as I said, current and future history is never really addressed, is it?

All of the political machinations of the previous three episodes come to very little on screen in Bell of Doom. There's a lovely scene with Tavannes (Andre Morell is fantastic), Catherine de Medici and Duvall where they speak on the eve of the massacre, which is packed to the gills with classic John Lucarotti dialogue ("If you rouse the mob the innocent will perish with the guilty"; "We are to unleash the wolves of Paris"; "At dawn tomorrow, this city will weep tears of blood"). But because we can only listen to, and not see, this episode, the massacre itself is reduced to a couple of minutes of mob shouting and screaming, no doubt taken from a BBC sound effects tape rather than dramatically enacted in studio. It is suggested that these scenes played over the image of a woodcut of 16th century France in flames, but who really knows how effective it looked?

The best thing about Bell of Doom is, of course, the Doctor's stunning speech during and after Steven's stroppy departure. There's real anguish and pain in Hartnell's delivery, as he reasons with himself about the accusations levelled against him, and the fact he has a responsibility to Time that his fellow travellers never understand. He namechecks Susan, Ian, Barbara and Vicki in a mini season finale style, and until Dodo gatecrashes the party, this would have been a beautifully sad but fitting end to the series as a whole. The Doctor tantalisingly mentions the possibility of going back to his own planet: "But I can't... I can't!" That second "I can't" comes after a considerable pause from Hartnell. We cannot see what he is doing, but we can almost see the pain on his face, the tears perhaps welling in his eyes. It's powerful, palpable, impactful acting from a man too often overlooked for his acting chops. William Hartnell was the guv'nor, and if for no other reason than this scene (and a better quality audio recording), I want Bell of Doom returned to the BBC archives without delay! Remember how much better appreciated The Enemy of the World was for being able to see it? And how much people cheered at Stephanie Bidmead's speech to camera when Air Lock was found? Well here's another of those long lost classic performances, this time from the star of the show, and in a period when he was generally starting to lose his sharpness and acumen.

William Hartnell, I salute you.

The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve has a reputation for good quality drama, excellent dialogue and solid acting. The cast is universally superb, I'll give it that. But the story does not involve the TARDIS travellers enough and the ongoing religious machinations are otherwise alienating, keeping the viewer at arm's length. It's often said the story succeeds because it puts Steven in the limelight, but I argue it doesn't do it very well. And the idea of coming up with a story involving the Doctor's double but then doing next to nothing with it narratively is a huge wasted opportunity. Why bother?

The first time I listened to The Massacre in 2004, I found it boring. When I revisited it in 2013, I loved it, thought it was rich and dense and full of incident. This third time, it's fallen out of favour again, because as much as I recognise how well it is made and cast, I can't help thinking it's boring and worthy and far too earnest. I've also developed a gentle dislike for Steven Taylor. The story is a massive missed opportunity, an ill-conceived misfire shot through with veins of Lucarotti class.

First broadcast: February 26th 1966

Steve's Scoreboard
The Good: William Hartnell's speech during Steven's departure is mesmerising. Please, Great Film Collecting God in the Sky, please let us have it back!
The Bad: "Wherever this machine of yours lands next, I'm getting off!" Go on then, Steven Taylor, go and be self-righteous on someone else's show. Try Blue Peter.
Overall score for episode: ★★★★★★★★☆☆ (story average: 5.75 out of 10)

NEXT TIME: The Steel Sky...



My reviews of this story's other episodes: War of God (episode 1); The Sea Beggar (episode 2); Priest of Death (episode 3)

Find out birth/death dates, career information, and facts and trivia about this story's cast and crew at the Doctor Who Cast & Crew site: http://doctorwhocastandcrew.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/the-massacre-of-st-bartholomews-eve.html

The soundtrack to The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve is available on CD. Find it on Amazon - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Doctor-Who-Massacre-Peter-Purves/dp/0563552611

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