Masterpiece Theatre 8
Nightmare of Eden
Here’s my theory: if Nightmare
of Eden had been made at any time other than during Graham Williams’ reign
as producer, it would be one of Doctor
Who’s most highly-regarded serials. Think about it for a moment. The theme
of drug addiction and mistreatment of animals would have fitted in well in the
Jon Pertwee era as another story with a strong moral and environmental message.
During the golden age of Philip Hinchcliffe or during the
pints-of-spurting-blood-red age of Eric Saward, Tryst and Dymond would have
been hardened mercenaries in the style of Scorby from The Seeds of Doom or Stotz from The
Caves of Androzani. Fisk would have been a grizzled soldier like Scott in Earthshock, and Tom Baker would have
been denied his performance excesses. Likewise, a broadcast today, with Matt
Smith, would allow the story to be tightened up and also give explicit
reference to its drug theme, giving the strength of Nightmare’s concept the gravity it required.
Alas, Nightmare of
Eden was broadcast in 1979, during the Seventeenth Season of Doctor Who, at a time when the budget
didn’t stretch to more than a few battered Daleks and a jolly to Paris. It was
a period when Tom Baker was out of control, knowing it all and refusing to
listen, whilst Graham Williams and Douglas Adams were busy failing to
understand that Doctor Who was a
programme for families, not just for university undergraduates.
So Nightmare of Eden
finds itself ranked 167th in Doctor Who
Magazine’s Mighty 200 survey of 2009, a lowly position that is more to do
with its visualisation than any fundamental flaw in the script. It ranks way
behind Destiny of the Daleks from the
same season, which I find difficult to reconcile, and nearly 160 places behind City of Death, which is not the classic
it thinks it is.
Nightmare had a
very troubled production, which does impact greatly on what appeared onscreen.
Director Alan Bromly either quit or was fired midway through the filming, leaving
Graham Williams to pick up the pieces and salvage yet another story. Poor old
Graham seems to have been fated to have this happen to him over and over again
– budget issues ruined Underworld and
The Invasion of Time, whilst Shada was hit by a strike and eventually
lost. The man just never caught an even break. However he hired Alan Bromly,
who didn’t seem to be on the same wavelength as his cast and crew, with the
whole production degenerating into a series of arguments, led by Dictator Tom
Baker, about Bromly’s approach and his lack of understanding about what was
required. Indeed, this is the story where Williams decided he had had enough as
producer and resigned his post at the end of the season, taking Douglas Adams
with him. When production on the story wrapped, the crew wore T-shirts reading
‘I’m relieved the Nightmare is over’, which has shades of the ‘You can’t scare
me – I work for James Cameron’ T-shirts sported by crewmembers who have been on
the receiving end of one of the Avatar and
Aliens director’s legendary tantrums.
The lack of creative direction probably caused the effects
work to be remarkably shoddy; particularly considering City of Death’s impressive spider-ship was only two stories before Nightmare of Eden. Apparently Nightmare
was the first story in which the model effects were recorded on video rather
than film. Graham Williams was impressed by them, mainly because they were
cheaper to film. I think he was alone in that opinion, as in the future model
shots would be recorded on film again. It’s not just the effects that needed
better direction; on occasion there are some real howlers on show, such as the
Mandrel that is clearly breathing when the Doctor pronounces it dead, or the
moment when the Doctor is mauled by a Mandrel as Stott stands about five feet
away looking in the opposite direction for the duration of the attack.
However the acting is mostly well up to scratch. David Daker
in particular impresses in a multi-faceted role as Captain Rigg. It’s a real
pity Rigg dies towards the end of episode three, although he gets a good
menacing scene with Lalla Ward’s Romana, as he doesn’t get an opportunity to
redeem himself which his character deserves. Rigg dies a junkie, begging for
drugs and throwing money at Romana. It’s a bleak and adult moment.
There have been many complaints about Lewis Fiander’s choice to employ a Germanic accent as Tryst,
but it is no less ludicrous than Denis Lill’s Austro-Dutch Fendleman in Image of the Fendahl, which isn’t
vilified half as much. Personally I quite like Fiander’s attempt to bring
something different to the part, and, accent aside, he doesn’t take his
performance over the top unlike some guest stars. In fact, at times his
portrayal seems positively restrained compared with Tom Baker’s. Baker can’t
resist adlibbing and, despite some of his unscripted contributions being pretty
good, there are moments when he is a long way from the gravitas and magnetism he
possessed at the start of his tenure. It’s clearly a year too far for him
already, and he is struggling to find new facets of his character. He’s proof,
if any were needed, that three or four years is long enough for any actor
playing the Doctor.
The weakest character is Della, played by Jennifer Lonsdale,
who is so stilted and unresponsive that when she is shot in the face in episode
four, clutches at her stomach instead. Della survives somehow – clearly it
would take more than a laser blast to destroy something that wooden. She never
really shows any sort of feelings for Stott, with whom she is supposed to be in
love, particularly when she discovers he is still alive against all hope. Nor
does she project any sense of danger when she is being threatened. However,
that could be a fault of the direction issues more than Lonsdale’s inability.
But the biggest issue Nightmare
of Eden has is with its monsters. I’ve already discussed them here, but the
Mandrels are poor, especially when shown in harsh studio lighting – a condition
known in Doctor Who parlance as
Myrka-itis. Yet when they are shown in their natural habitat on Eden, with its
spooky ambient lighting, you get glimpses of what the designer was intending.
Plus, if nothing else, they get one of the best back-stories of any Doctor Who monster ever, and you can’t
help feeling sorry for them by the end of the four episodes.
Any weaknesses in the story cannot be blamed on Bob Baker
though, who in Nightmare of Eden
submitted his best script for the series. This is his only Doctor Who script without Dave Martin, and there is a distinct lack
of catchphrase in the story, leading to the realisation that Dave was there for
the snappy one-liners rather than the plot. There’s no ‘Eldrad must live!’ or
‘Contact has been made!’ or (thank heavens) ‘The Quest is the Quest’. The drug
theme, although watered-down for a teatime audience, is a risky topic for Doctor Who. Goodness knows how many
parents had to explain to their children what was making Rigg behave so
out-of-character after his drink is spiked. But that’s a good thing; it meant
that 1979 Doctor Who was still
relevant and could mine good stories from current affairs. There are numerous
good examples of dialogue exchanges and the twist is well-handled, as is the
eventual reveal of the identity of the drug-traffickers.
There’s a lot to admire in Nightmare of Eden. It manages to achieve a timeless quality despite
the paucity of the budget, mostly due to the continued relevance of drugs in
modern society. Doctor Who is nothing
if not forward-thinking, and Nightmare
is certainly that.
Ten Reasons why Nightmare of Eden is addictive viewing
1.
David Daker as Captain Rigg brings a sense of
realism to his character’s descent from decent working man to shivering drug
addict, albeit in a family-friendly way. His initial interactions with the
Doctor and Romana are great, and he is one of the few characters I can recall
who actually bother to do a background check on the Doctor’s credentials. This
contrasts with his Vraxoin-addled attempts to procure more of the drug from
Romana, charting a path that leads from a simple persuasion to outright begging
to the very real threat of violence. You believe in Rigg throughout all those
phases. His presumed death, shot almost casually by Fisk, is given an added
tragedy by the fact that nobody acknowledges it.
2.
The script for Nightmare of Eden is strong. It’s an oft-forgotten fact that amid
the general tattiness and silliness of late seventies Doctor Who, many of the scripts were among the best the classic
series ever produced. Nightmare’s script stands alongside City of Death and The Androids
of Tara as a literate, intelligent piece of writing that doesn’t talk down
to its audience. There are so many gems of dialogue that all ten reasons listed
here could be a quote, but I’ll settle for Dymond’s weary response to Fisk’s
banal question. When looking for the Doctor and Romana, Fisk and his fellow
customs officer Costa Coffee burst into Tryst’s quarters. Unable to see him and
highly perplexed, Fisk indicates the only locked door in the room. ‘What’s
that?’ he asks, not choosing his words carefully enough in the heat of the
chase. ‘It’s a door,’ Dymond quickly retorts, showing a humour that his serious
demeanour has so far hidden.
3.
Rigg: ‘And I’d like to know just who you are.’
The Doctor: ‘I told you. I’m from Galactic.’ Rigg: ‘Galactic went out of
business twenty years ago.’ The Doctor: ‘I wondered why I haven’t been paid.’
Rigg: ‘That’s not good enough.’ The Doctor: ‘That’s what I thought.’ Both Daker
and Baker are obviously relishing this exchange and it sings off the screen.
4.
It had been a long time since Doctor Who had presented a social issue
in such a stark and explicit manner – not since Barry Letts had called the
shots as producer in the Pertwee era. In fact, Nightmare can stand proud alongside Vincent and the Doctor for addressing a mental disorder unflinchingly.
One imagines that if Nightmare of Eden
were remade today, it would also require a helpline number after broadcast like
Richard Curtis’ Van Gogh tale had.
5.
The set for the planet Eden, although on a
smaller scale, rivals the celebrated Zeta Minor jungle set in Planet of Evil. The lighting is
unsettling, and the use of sounds conveys an alien world superbly. Even the
Mandrels look quite good when they are in their natural environment.
6.
Another cracking dialogue exchange. The Doctor
and Romana have escaped pursuit by jumping through the CET window onto the
planet Eden. Romana asks the Doctor what they should do. ‘Let’s go east,’ the Doctor says, indicating a
forward direction. He makes to move off, but Romana asks, ‘How do you know
which way is east?’ The Doctor pulls up abruptly, caught off-guard by the
question. ‘Well I don’t. We’ll go that way and we’ll call it east,’ he tells
her. ‘Why not call it north?’ Romana asks, sensing a small victory. The Doctor
shrugs amiably. ‘Alright, we’ll call it north,’ he concedes. In one exchange
you get the older brother and slightly-irritating superior little sister act
the Doctor and Romana had, until real-life love and hate spoiled this
relationship.
7.
The idea behind the Mandrels is one of the best
classic Doctor Who ever came up with.
From the mystery of what they are to the realisation of what they become after
death, never has a monster been given such pathos and empathy. Bob Baker takes
the clichéd idea of marauding monsters and twists it completely around so that
you actually feel sorry for them. A lot of writers could learn much from that
notion.
8.
Geoffrey Hinsliff’s customs officer Fisk is a
small-minded man in charge of his own little world. When the bigger picture
comes crashing in and Fisk’s little empire is found lacking, he reacts in the
only way he can; he nitpicks and fusses over the men under his command, making
a series of decisions that become more and more divorced from the reality of the
situation. Hinsliff portrays Fisk’s odiousness and narrow-mindedness very well
indeed, and manages to walk the fine line between character and pastiche quite
expertly.
9.
Hidden away in the midst of all the Baker-quips
is this simple and very powerful exchange between the Doctor and the
recently-arrested Tryst, who attempts to justify himself to the Time Lord. It’s
proof that, when properly controlled, Baker was still capable of finding new aspects of his Doctor even
six years into his tenure.
10.
I don’t care what anybody else thinks; I like
Lewis Fiander as Tryst. I like the way his pompous proclamations are continually
shot down by the Doctor ad Romana. I like his genuine befuddlement at their clearly
superior science. I like the way he can justify his crimes in the name of
conservation. And his accent never once grates on me; it makes him memorable. That’s
why Doctor Who fans still know who he
is. He’s managed to cement his place in Doctor
Who’s overcrowded firmament. It’s better to be remembered badly than not be
remembered at all.
Nightmare of Eden
is undeserving of its meagre reputation. The story gets so many things right
that the cracks in production values are pretty well hidden. It’s definitely
ripe for reappraisal, and can rightly be regarded as one of the best stories in
the Graham Williams era.
Next Time: Timelash
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