Your last memory is of receiving a contact from an unknown agency: me. Everything since has been erased from your minds. (The Mind of Evil)
It’s January 30, 1971. George Harrison is at number one with “My Sweet Lord,” having unseated Mr. Dunn. He enjoys a five week run before Mungo Jerry’s “Baby Jump” unseats him. Lower on the charts, T. Rex still stalks about upon a White Swan. The Supremes are on the charts with “Stoned Love,” a song that is actually probably not about sex while smoking cannabis, not that that has any real relevance to its interpretation. Judy Collins, Paul McCartney, Neil Diamond, and Elton John also chart.
In other news, Idi Amin, or as he’ll eventually become known, His Excellency, President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hadji Doctor Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Seas and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular, deposes Milton Obote in Uganda. Charles Manson is convicted. The Apollo 14 mission takes place to rapidly diminishing interest. Rolls-Royce, one of the great symbols of luxury, goes bankrupt and is nationalized by the Heath government. The Seabed Treaty, outlawing nuclear weapons on the ocean floor, is signed by the major countries who should sign something like that. The Weather Underground, in a rare stab at effectiveness, manages to bomb a bathroom in the US Capitol building. The UN formally establishes Earth Day, signaling that the environmental movement has thoroughly gotten underway, and also manages the Convention on Psychotropic Substances, formalizing an international effort to crack down on psychedelics. But perhaps most importantly, it’s Decimalization Day! One of the things that most firmly sticks the UNIT era in the 1970s was the fact that back in Season 7, it visibly used pre-decimal currency. All that comes to an end and we finally learn that Susan was Right as, on February 15th, the UK adopts decimal currency.
While on television, it’s The Mind of Evil. One of the last “missing stories,” like chunks of The Ambassadors of Death, it exists only in black and white now despite having originally been transmitted in color. The result is a mixed bag for the story. On the one hand, the general consensus is that The Mind of Evil actually looks better in black and white than it did in color. On the other hand, being in black and white has left this one of the least remarked upon Pertwee stories (On the Doctor Who Ratings Guide, it has the fourth fewest reviews of any of the Pertwee stories).
Although it may not prove useful through to the end of the Pertwee era, at the moment it is useful to think of the Pertwee era as fundamentally schizoid. There are, if you will, the Two Pertwees. The first is a strange, almost postmodern show that repeatedly highlights the absurdity of its own premises (c.f. Terror of the Autons) or deconstructs them to reveal their inadequacies (c.f. The Ambassadors of Death or The Silurians). This is the one characterized by juxtaposing standard sci-fi tropes with characters who operate by their own system of rules that is slightly different from the rules of the story they’re in. I’d say to call it juxtaposed Pertwee, but that’s a mouthful, so let’s call it Ballard Pertwee, even though that’s not quite accurate, just because otherwise I’ll have to go introduce some jargon. The other is a mildly reactionary but very clever and fun action-adventure show in which the army teams up with a charismatic dandy. Let’s call it action Pertwee. Depending on which of these shows you like, different stories do differently for you.
The problem is that no single creator or episode ever decisively fits into one school or the other. These schizoid approaches exist juxtaposed in the same episode. Some creators are more inclined towards one than the other – Malcolm Hulke, Robert Holmes, and Katy Manning all tend to push towards the Ballard. Terrance Dicks, Jon Pertwee, and, somewhat oddly, Barry Letts tend to push towards the action. But The Mind of Evil, more than any other Pertwee story to date, manages to obtain some level of purity in one direction or the other: the action one.
The first thing that is immediately clear looking at this story is that there is a level of polish to it that past stories haven’t. Houghton, coming off of Inferno, has cracked how to write for Pertwee better than anyone else has to date. He keeps the Doctor on the back foot through large swaths of the story, having him be assaulted by the Keller Machine and terrorized into submission multiple times. Because Pertwee is functioning so much as the charismatic leading man, having him be genuinely harmed by the machine – broken down to a barely able to stand exhaustion – is genuinely scary. Houghton, having seen what Pertwee was best at in Inferno, has now written a script that has as much of that as possible.
On top of that, Houghton manages to get a wonderful amount of texture and atmosphere to the story. The peace conference, for all its faults, gives the story a tangibly global scale instead of the implied global scale of most stories. Even if we only see people from the UK, US, and China in the course of the conference, the fact that the Doctor is involved in a global affair like this instead of showing up somewhere else within the home countries gives this story a new impact. Similarly, putting the Doctor in the midst of a prison riot is a case of using the earthbound setting to put the Doctor into a situation that it’s genuinely difficult to imagine past incarnations appearing in. This is using the opportunities given by the setting in a way the show hasn’t done yet. (Ironic that the Earth setting should finally be used this well on the story where the Doctor flashes back to his many alien encounters.)
And on top of that, there are a multitude of little touches that work here. Having the first of the Doctor’s nightmares be a post-traumatic flashback to Inferno and watching a world destroyed is a moment more powerful than anything in the ill-paced and sloppily plotted conclusion to that story. Having the Master attacked by the Keller Machine so that we see our villain writhing in pain and scared is a brilliant way to ratchet the stakes up higher and make the machine look really scary (which it risks not doing in a story that already has the Master and a nerve gas nuclear missile), and having his worst fear be the Doctor standing over him and laughing at him is a moment that awards him more mythic status than the Troughton era ever managed to give the Cybermen. And there’s an absolutely gorgeous sequence in the fifth episode where the action cuts back and forth between the Doctor and UNIT as the Doctor attempts to escape the prison and UNIT readies a helicopter to fly over the prison. The action switches back and forth repeatedly over several mnutes until finally the two sequences converge into one sequence as the Doctor tries to signal the helicopter. Then the previously interlaced sequences separate, and the camera stays fixedly with the Doctor when whether or not the Doctor is going to be OK depends entirely on what’s going on in the UNIT thread of the plot right then. It’s the sharpest use of editing that Doctor Who has done to date.
There’s no two ways about it. For 1971, this is very well made television. There’s a reason the show was so popular through these years. One of them is that it did things like this effectively. I have no trouble understanding why the more action Pertwee stories are beloved to so many people.
But they’re not beloved to me. Action Pertwee just isn’t the show I enjoy. This is not a show about a man with a magic box who can go anywhere and meet anyone, and does. It’s a show about a smug man with a big nose who saves the world from bad guys and is sometimes kind of a bully. It’s a very, very good show about a smug man with a big nose. But I want a show that, along with its thrills and innovation, tries to challenge me as a viewer. I want something that tries to show me things I’ve never seen before. For all its faults, Terror of the Autons did that better than anything thus far in the Pertwee era. For all its triumphs, this does it worse. And as a result, I find it frustrating.
There’s no one thing that does it in, although there is one aspect of the story that grates more than others. Rather, it is that almost every aspect of the production has gone just a little further in the directions I find frustrating. For instance, UNIT is as far from their “investigators of the unexplained” brief from The Invasion as they’ve ever been, somehow being responsible for running security at a peace conference. There’s nothing wrong with running security at a peace conference – a plot point along those lines forms the series finale of The Sandbaggers, one of my favorite TV series ever. It’s just that it’s yet another step towards the Doctor working for a generic military operation. And yes, all the standard litany about how he’s got to do something to make ends meet on Earth apply, but we’ve gone through that – he signs up with the Brigadier almost immediately, with no effort to investigate other possibilities, and sticks by him through thick, thin, and genocide.
But here’s the thing – the flaws I find in this story’s ethical approach are fundamentally intertwined with the stuff that makes the story so good. The simplistic worldview is in part a consequence of making the Keller Machine truly terrifying. The reason the clever editing is so effective is that it amps up the pace and thrill of the story at the expense of slower and more contemplative bits.
And herein lies the rub. For me, there is an irreconcilable gap between these aspects of the Pertwee era and the bulk of what Doctor Who does. And the gap is not incidental to the Pertwee era – it’s part and parcel of what the era does and what it is. Fans, by and large, can bridge this gap, and many do. Those that also enjoy action Pertwee simply enjoy this era as a bit of a different flavor of the show, and treat it as an odd little dalliance with a different approach. And that’s a completely valid approach. I’m more than capable of it. The Pertwee era may be my least favorite of the classic series eras, but I still named my first car Bessie.
But at the end of the day, TARDIS Eruditorum isn’t supposed to be just another set of reviews of stories, and it’s not supposed to offer a fan’s perspective (even if it does swivel the lens onto fandom sometimes). The point of this blog is to track the story of Doctor Who. And that assumes that there is an essential core to Doctor Who. And there are parts of the Pertwee era that conflict with what I see that core as being. As I said, much of this approach is the complete opposite of what the show should be doing based on what came before. The critique of the show’s morality in The War Games applies better to this story than it did to most of season six. And even though this is an excellent story – one I recommend as one of the highest quality pieces of Doctor Who to date, and one I think that a lot of fans badly underrate in that it doesn’t get credit for being better than things like Inferno or, frankly, The Silurians… I don’t feel like I can come down in its corner. In terms of what I’m trying to track in this blog, this story is frankly almost as much of a mess as The Dominators.
On the other hand, I think the Ballard Pertwee does provide an interesting and useful way of connecting to the past of the show. And although it hasn’t had its day in the sun yet, as it happens, the next two stories are practically manifestos of it, so whatever complaints I have here don’t need to be obsessed over. Just noted. So let’s end on an upbeat bit – the scene in which Jo beats the Doctor in checkers is a delightful bit of absurd whimsy, and for my money the best bit of the story.