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Doctor Who, What, Where, When, Why and How
A personal Doctor Who viewing memoir

Castrovalva

Back when I was legally adorable, I remember watching as a blonde haired man unravelled a scarf. I didn’t understand the significance of it – nor did I appreciate that its significance was dampened by it being the fake season 18 scarf rather than a classic seasons 12 to 17 scarf – I just remember a blonde man unravelling a scarf. In a white corridor. The Fifth Doctor had arrived. Like Russell T Davies, David Tennant and so many others involved with both New Doctor Who and Audio Doctor Who, Peter Davison was about to become my Doctor. The one I’d have an unbreakable bond with. The one I’d always have the softest spot for. The one whose short comings and failings (of production as much as of people) I would forgive. Not that I’m as old as my more illustrious comrades – I was obviously an early developer. Either that or the trials and tribulations of the Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy eras meant it was impossible for anyone to truly adopt their reigns as a key part of their childhood. I was five when Peter Davison arrived and eight when he left. But he was still my Doctor and I was saying that long before it became fashionable to do so.

That’s all I remember of the original transmission which is odd as I was big into the works of MC Escher when I was five. There was something about the geometrical abstractions which really spoke to me. We were reacquainted some years later when I got the video – also from HMV in Manchester not long after getting Logopolis. Same store, same stupid sticky security patches. I was at an age then when long Tardis scenes were like milk for the soul. Watching it in bed that evening I kept seeing things which I thought I remembered from 1981. I can’t be sure but I have an idea that I remember him opening the door and finding the cricket pavilion inside. Castovalva is the only story I am sure I watched in bed though – that has to count for something. I was a little cheesed off at the length of the recaps – they do tend to go on a bit – and I did try to fancy Tegan. On location she occasionally looks pretty. There is something about those scenes which make her look less fake and made-up than she does in studio. JNT was determined not to do Janet any favours in how she looked or dressed.

The video also left me with that bit of music – the Castrovalva theme – stuck in my head for days after. Interstingly, a similar thing has just happened with “The Haunting of Thomas Brewster” which has a staggeringly out of place musical cue which pops up regularly throughout the story. It doesn’t fit the period or the play but it is so very catchy. Castrovalva’s theme on the other hand suits the mood of the story superbly.

And years after getting the video I watched it yet again and felt moved to get an Escher poster. I couldn’t find one but found something in his style. I had it on the back of my bedroom door for a long time. I don’t know why I got rid of it. I’m normally rubbish with posters. I never take them down unless either the walls get painted or they fall down of their own free will. I might keep the one of Sarah Michelle Gellar kissing Selma Blair from “Cruel Intentions” though. It has some… interesting wording… underneath… and it’s… a design classic… et cetera. Or something.

Photograph from the studio recording of parts 3 and 4

Four to Doomsday

It was a rare and exciting treat. Exams were over – apart from the whole “the rest of my life depends on some pieces of paper I’ll get in two months” thing – and so was school. I could stay up late and watch the Doctor Who at last. The whole of the Davison era was about to open up to me in late night chunks. This was what life was all about. Though technically I was eighteen and should’ve had better things to do. But you’re raining on my parade now so stop it. I’d creep downstairs at about eleven o’clock and pop on the absurdly big headphones that had come with the stereo which was in a package deal with the television. Sometimes there would be something good on before Doctor Who – the Goodies perhaps or that thing with Adrian Edmondson that Ben Elton wrote which wasn’t either the Young Ones or Filthy, Rich and Catflap. Sometimes the advert break would fall at the right time and I might possibly have flipped channels and taken a sneaky peek at the adult channel’s free preview. Or not. You can’t prove anything.

Four to Doomsday was the first story in that summer of Davison and for that reason alone it has a special place in my heart thing. Plus, it isn’t a bad story. People are pretty down on it – reaction to its possible DVD release was pretty negative and included people saying they didn’t want it to be released. I’ve never understood that line of thinking. I want every story to be released. Even if I wasn’t going to buy it – which I will – I wouldn’t begrudge anyone who did want it to come out. If I had my way the DVD would come with a free limited edition pair of enormous headphones so I could listen to it with the same sense of detachment and slight discomfort with which I watched it originally. But it was great – moods make memories and you could’ve put the Invisible Enemy on that week and I would probably have enjoyed it. F to D has its weaknesses but Stratford Johns is magnificent, the plot has a few good twists and turns and it looks and sounds unlike any other Doctor Who story. The dancing, the didgeridoo playing, the stripper (that might’ve been the adult channel preview) and the Chinese dragon all give it a sense of ambition which the weeks to come didn’t quite fulfil. Even the sets are great – they go up such a long way and give the impression that this is a magnificent technology at Monarch’s disposal.

You can't prove it