The Aztecs is one
of the few Doctor Who stories that
are loved throughout fandom. It’s an obvious choice for the special edition
treatment, unlike some of the more peculiar inclusions (The Visitation next month? For why?) Nonetheless, I’m not entirely
sure that this serial benefits terribly well from being seen on DVD. The
VidFire process used to clean up the stock often causes blurriness in scenes
with lots of motion, and The Aztecs,
with its many action sequences, suffers badly. There are points in the story
that I struggled to make out at all, so smeared as the overall effect. Conversely,
still elements in the longer, calmer scenes are picked out in clarity, such as the
backdrops of the Aztec city, now robbed of much of its impact by being shown
very clearly to be painted backgrounds. This is not to denigrate the work of
the restorers, but I do feel that this story is one that looked better on
scratchy old film.
Where DVD serves The
Aztecs well is in the sound quality. This story boasts a lyrical, almost
Shakespearean style of dialogue and some effective incidental music, and to be
able to hear all this with clarity is essential. This story has a glowing
reputation for a reason, with a straightforward yet thought-provoking plot that
is brought to life by an excellent script performed by some of the series’
finest regulars and guest actors. The special edition provides, as I understand
it, the single disc of the original release, along with a second disc of newly
included material, including the much awaited ‘Air Lock,’ the recently
rediscovered third episode of Galaxy 4.
THE AZTECS
Some commentators accuse the most recent episodes of Doctor Who of being too complicated to
follow. While I disagree with this, I do see their point, and The Aztecs provides a perfect example of
a script with plenty of incident, intrigue and surprising developments that nonetheless
remains very easy to follow. From the moment Barbara arrives in Yetaxa’s tomb
and foolishly tries on the dead priest’s bracelet, she and her fellow
travellers are pulled deeper and deeper into a situation beyond their control. Their
efforts to extricate themselves from danger and return to the TARDIS merely
pull them further into the mire, leaving them prone to the machinations of
their hosts and thus pitting them unwittingly against each other. It sounds
complicated, but the leisurely pace and straightforward explanations of
developments keep everything clear.
One criticism that can be made of The Aztecs is that is suffers very badly from Doctor Who’s early educational remit. There are some very clunky
info-dumps in this serial, as Barbara and Susan discuss Aztec culture as if
they were in the schoolroom. However, this actually works to the story’s
favour, emphasising the main reason Barbara has brought them all into this
mess. She treats her presence in ancient Mexico as if it were a history
project. She enters the tomb and begins routing around in the remains as a
golden opportunity for archaeological exploration. It never occurs to her that
the remains are merely years old, not centuries, and that the Aztec Empire
continues to thrive just outside the temple in which she stands.
She continues to treat her situation like this even once she
has been pulled into the Aztecs’ world. It may seem absurd that the Aztecs
would immediately assume that the strangely clothed woman in the stolen
bracelet is the reincarnation of their high priest and a living god, but these
are the people who supposedly believed the invading Cortes was the avatar of Quetzalcoatl
and welcomed him with open arms just a matter of year after this story is set.
(This claim is believed to be a myth by most modern historians, but Valerie
Singleton still happily proclaimed it in the 1970 Blue Peter feature included on disc one). Barbara’s steadfast
belief that she can help the Aztec civilisation move beyond its reliance on
sacrifice and thereby save it from Cortes’ Christianising demolition of their
culture is profoundly arrogant, but stems from a genuine love of a culture she
has studied in depth.
Immediately she makes enemies in this land. Tlotoxl, the
Priest of Sacrifice, is rapidly and dangerously against her. He’s one of the
great villains of the series, played with relish by John Ringham in the mode of
Olivier’s Richard III. An intelligent, amoral schemer, Tlotoxl portrays himself
as a defender of the Aztec faith against a false god, but he’s anything but. He
is perfectly happy to serve Yetaxa until she threatens his position by calling
off a sacrifice to the rain god. Tlotoxl is perfectly aware that the rains will
come and the eclipse will end with or without a sacrifice, but his position of wealth
and influence relies on the rest of his people believing the continual
sacrifices are essential to secure their way of life.
On the other hand, Barbara develops a strong friendship with
Autloc, the High Priest of Knowledge. While his initial respect for is based on
his belief that she is Yetaxa, Autloc and Barbara develop a strong mutual
respect for each other as people. At the end of these events, Autloc’s faith is
shattered, and the script takes a surprisingly even-handed view of this, considering
Doctor Who’s usually anti-religious
stance. While Barbara shows tremendous guilt at how she has lied to and damaged
the one man she respected in this place, the Doctor points out that, in his
self-imposed exile, Autloc might well survive longer than he would had he
stayed, with the Spaniards on the way. Keith Pyott’s performance is quietly
dignified and provides a perfect counterpoint to Ringham’s scenery-chewing.
While it’s Barbara’s story, the remaining leads are all at
their best. Ian is declared to be Yetaxa’s warrior, pitting him unwillingly
against Ixta, the greatest warrior of the city. He’s an untrustworthy little
maniac and Tlotoxl’s pet thug, only seeming to care about being the best
soldier in Aztec history and winning fights through any means possible. He’s
probably compensating for something. Thankfully, for a science teacher Ian’s a
bit of a ninja, using his Coal Hill nerve pinch on the warrior and even holding
his own for some time after Ixta drugs him with a poison cactus thorn. Susan is
on fine form in this story, ironically considering that Carole Ann Ford was on
holiday for half of it. Instead of the usual screaming and falling over, Susan
gets to rail against the teachings of the Aztec culture. Unlike Barbara’s more
constructive outlook, Susan has no time for superstitious primitives, and
refuses to marry the Perfect Victim, a big hunk of man who’s going to be dead
in a few hours anyway. (The less said about this guy the better, though.
Perfect Victim but a dreadful actor.) As far as she’s concerned, the Aztecs are
monsters – and this is from someone who was facing down Daleks not long ago.
It’s also a very strong story for the Doctor. It features
one of Hartnell’s best-remembered scenes, his set-to with Barbara forbidding
changes to history, with the famous “Not one line!” speech. By this stage, the
relationship between the Doctor and Barbara had already grown into one of
respect – not unlike her friendship with Autloc, come to think of it – and so
there argument here is serious. This isn’t the Doctor squabbling, this is
genuine anger against something he believes in fully. While he happily
describes Tlotoxl as a butcher, he makes no judgments of the Aztecs’ culture
and clearly admires them as much a Barbara does. Nonetheless, he refuses to
entertain for a moment the prospect of saving them from their fate.
While this angle is among the most celebrated of the story, equally
as illuminating of the Doctor’s character is his romance with Cameca. Wonderfully
portrayed by Margot van der Burgh, Cameca steals the Doctor’s heart from the
moment he spots her in the walled garden. Whatever some fans might claim, the
Doctor is clearly besotted with the woman, and there’s a genuinely sweet
sundowner romance played out throughout the four episodes. While it’s played
for laughs as much as drama, it’s a clear indication that romance for the
Doctor wasn’t the taboo subject it was later made out to be. There’s a somewhat
cruel side to the Doctor here, going along with the charade of an engagement
while all the while using Cameca’s connections to further his escape. Nonetheless,
their final parting says it all – the Doctor really is smitten.
However, for all Hartnell, Ford and Russell bring to the
serial, The Aztecs belongs to
Jacqueline Hill as Barbara. Her desire to save the Aztecs is misguided and
never had a chance of success – their civilisation was pretty much doomed
anyway, with ever more people sacrificed as their culture turned inwards on
itself, even without the devastation wrought by Cortes and his men. Still, if
anyone could have pulled it off, it’s Barbara Wright, a woman brave enough and
ballsy enough to take up the mantel of a living goddess and able to fight her
enemies with words as easily as a swiftly drawn knife. All due respect to the
Doctor; I wouldn’t have argued with her.
GALAXY 4
It was long past time I added The Aztecs to my collection, but the big draw for me was the
inclusion of the newly discovered episode of Galaxy 4. An episode of classic Who
that I’ve never seen – there aren’t many of those left! It makes for an odd
inclusion in this release, being of a wholly different genre and rather
different quality to The Aztecs. Galaxy 4 is vanilla Who, a very straightforward sci-fi adventure with little to say. The
serial is presented here as cut-down reconstruction, utilising surviving clips,
stills and the original soundtrack to reproduce the three still missing
episodes, with the entirety of ‘Air Lock’ snuggled in the middle. The reconstruction
is done extremely well, adding some pace to what isn’t the most exciting of
stories, in spite of taking place on a planet that’s about to explode. Still,
it is good fun, and, like the main feature, is brought to life by some
excellent performances, even if the dialogue the cast are given isn’t anywhere
near the standard of the earlier serial.
Vicki and Stephen, played by Maureen O’Brien and Peter
Purves, are one of the more underappreciated companion teams. They share an
easy chemistry on screen and provide the story with plenty of humour. Having both
companion characters originate from the future removes some of the wide-eyed
wonder of the original everyman characters, Ian and Barbara, but does something
to speed up proceedings without the ins and outs of space travel having to be explained
to them in a story like this. By this stage, the audience was used to space
aliens and could engage with characters who were too. Galaxy 4 sees Doctor Who confident
enough to play with its own clichés, inverting the evil monsters vs. noble
humanoids routine that was common to sci-fi. In fairness, this reversal was
nothing new even in 1965, but the series needed a story like this, a sort of
inverse Daleks.
The Drahvins are almost exactly a copy of the Thals, attractive
blonde near-human alien, with the added quirk of being entirely female (they do
keep a few males on their home planet – “as many as we need.”) Unlike the
Thals, however, there is only one individual in the Drahvin force, the bulk of
their crew comprised of almost robotic vat-grown soldiers with limited
intellects (there’s a definite anti-military rhetoric to this story).
Thankfully, their leader, Maaga, is a fine character, played with aplomb by
Stephanie Bidmead, is a conniving, sadistic villainess who nonetheless commands
a great deal of sympathy from the viewer. There’s a great moment in ‘Air Lock’
where she sits and bemoans her fate, stuck with three near-mindless nonentities
on a dismal planet.
The Rills, on the other hand, are one of the great forgotten
monsters of Doctor Who. We don’t get
a very clear look at them in the episode itself, but the glimpses of tusked,
walrus-like creatures impress almost as much as their sonorous voices,
projected through their servants, the Chumblies. Oh yes, the Chumblies, the
cutest robots ever to threaten the TARDIS crew. There’s no way they ever come
across as dangerous, no matter how often they zap their guns. They’re just too
cute, as they, um, chumble along the surface of the planet. Yet we’re told they
are capable of killing at a distance and they successfully defend the Rill ship
from the Drahvins long enough for it to escape the planet. It’s all part of the
‘don’t judge by appearances’ ethic of the story, and works well. ‘Air Lock’ itself
is an enjoyable enough episode, taking its title from Steven’s place of incarceration
in the Drahvin ship, threatened by depressurisation by the increasingly desperate
Maaga. Vicki and the Doctor spend the episode hobnobbing with the Rills. It’s
uncomplicated, but an enjoyable way to spend twenty-five minutes.
EXTRAS
Without wanting to go through everything on these two packed
discs, I have to single out a few features for praise. ‘Remembering the Aztecs’
is the standard talking heads feature, with John Ringham, Ian Cullen and Walter
Randall (Tlotoxl, Ixta and priest Tonita) all providing entertaining anecdotes
about the production and of working with Verity Lambert and William Hartnell. ‘Designing
the Aztecs’ features the immensely skilled Barry Newbury talking about his
impressive work on the serial. Newly included material includes some unusual
additions, such as an excerpt from A
Whole Scene Going, an arts programme that features an onset interview with
Gordon Flemyng, the director of the second Peter Cushing Dalek movie. There’s
also an engaging piece on Doctor Who featuring luminaries from throughout the world
of Who. Best of all is a sketch from It’s
a Square World, starring Michael Bentine and Clive Dunn. Dunn portrays a
pastiche Doctor that is simultaneously recognisable as a parody of Hartnell’s
Doctor and as a precursor to Corporal Jones of Dad’s Army. The sketch is full of dreadful jokes and is absolutely
wonderful. A treasure.
No comments:
Post a Comment