The Ark in Space Part One

The one where Harry loses his shoes and the Doctor burns his scarf...

What's going on with the funny opening titles this week? They're all brown and green and metallic. I thought someone had fiddled with the colour settings on my TV for a while. It's not that I dislike variations in the opening titles (which will be a boon when I reach the Matt Smith era!), but this sludgy, coppery version isn't as good as the Robot one.

The episode opens with a shot of a wheel in space (oh no, not a sequel!), and someone - or something - approaching a sleeping man within. The sequence means next to nothing to me at this point, but it's suitably intriguing, and as it leads into a shot of the TARDIS materialising in the darkness, it sets the episode up with a spooky start.

The Doctor has promised Harry a quick trip to the moon in the TARDIS, but the medical officer is prone to fiddling with things he shouldn't (maybe the colour settings on my TV?) and twisted the helmic regulator that little bit too hard and now they are on some kind of artificial satellite in space. I wasn't too impressed with new companion Harry Sullivan in Robot, he seemed rather pointless and surplus to requirements, but here it's like he's been reborn. Thank goodness for dependable Robert Holmes to inject some much-needed characterisation and life into Harry, who is portrayed as a bumbling buffoon who's a bit slow on the uptake.

It's a delightful performance by Ian Marter, who really makes the part his own here thanks to some lovely writing from Holmes, and a natural repartee with Tom Baker and Elisabeth Sladen ("Harry, stop burbling!"). Within minutes of The Ark in Space beginning, I've really warmed to this silly, clodhopping chap, all "Oh I say" and "Old girl". Sullivan/ Marter may have only been 30 years old here, but he behaves like an old school duffer in his smart blue blazer. He's old-fashioned (as Sarah pointed out in Robot) and enormous fun to watch. The moment where he insists the Doctor should sell the TARDIS to help the Metropolitan Police in Trafalgar Square is priceless.

Once the lights go on, Roger Murray-Leach's fabulous sets become clear. They are clean, white, clinical and functional, and have a futuristic scale and size. The curved corridors running around the edge of the spinning top-like satellite are gorgeous and impressive, and link the in with the out perfectly. They're as good as anything seen in bigger-budget American sci-fi series of the time. You can see into the depths of space outside, although on shiny DVD/ Bluray, you can also unfortunately see the depths of the studio floor. The grandeur of the cryogenic chamber is Murray-Leach's masterpiece, with director Rodney Bennett taking advantage of its height. At times it reminds me of Jeremy Bear's impressive set for the Skybase lab in The Mutants.

The entire episode is just the TARDIS travellers exploring a new environment, which for me is 100% pure Doctor Who. It's also quite Terry Nation-esque in that it takes its time to show our heroes finding out about a strange new world/ environment. The only other human presence in this episode is a brief glimpse of a sleeping man in the first scene (Technician Dune, apparently) and the automated voices of Gladys Spencer and Peter Tuddenham when Sarah is cryogenically preserved. This makes the main opponent - in this episode at least - simple automation (or lack of it in the case of the oxygen supply). The Doctor and his friends have to do battle with sliding doors, air-conditioning and automatic defence systems.

Sarah gets split off from the men quite early in the episode (again, very trad Who and very Nation-esque) and finds herself transmatted to a chamber where she is gently cryogenically frozen. Her suspension is all very dreamy as the tranquillising drugs kick in.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and Harry have to find a way to switch off the automated guard system, which insists on zapping anything organic that moves. The Doctor's hat and scarf both get fried in the process, and we learn that the Doctor's ridiculously long neckwear was knitted for him by Madame Nostradamus. But which one? Nostradamus was married twice, first to Henriette d'Encausse (possibly) who gave him two children, but who died (along with their offspring) of the plague in 1534. A few years later he married Anne Ponsarde, a rich widow, with whom he had a further six children, and he was with Anne for a good 30 years so we can assume it was she who knitted the Doctor's scarf (but not for his fourth incarnation, as it was already in the TARDIS by the time of Robot).

The Doctor and Harry's slapstick exploits trying to switch off the defence system are amusing to watch (we even get an eyeful of Ian Marter's posterior when they edge their way across the floor under the table. And why not? We've already glimpsed Elisabeth Sladen's slip and knickers by this point!). It means Harry has to continue to explore the satellite in his stockinged feet as they discover the slimy trails left by some kind of gastropod mollusc (a mini-Mestor?). The fact there's something green and gooey alive aboard this otherwise clinically sterile satellite is bound to become the catalyst for the story proper, and when we learn that the satellite is actually a huge lifeboat - an ark in space, if you will - for the preservation of all mankind, it's clear that there's danger afoot.

Baker's now legendary speech about the indomitability of mankind is perfectly delivered, and written so eloquently by Holmes. It defines not just this new Doctor's outlook, but the Doctor's in general. He is an alien who travels in time and space, simply exploring and meeting new life-forms with a sense of curiosity and adventure. But it is the tenacity and inventiveness of his favourite species - the people of Earth - that he admires most, and is why he keeps returning to them, and feels a kin with them. This fourth Doctor may seem like the most alien version yet, but he's still the same egalitarian at heart(s). "The entire human race in one room. All colours, all creeds, differences finally forgotten," he says (so it's rather a pity that when we do meet some of Nerva's human crew, they're all resolutely white).

The cliffhanger is something of a double-edged affair, with the discovery that Sarah is trapped in suspended animation for at least the next 3,000 years (and that somebody's changed her clothes), and when Harry opens a cupboard to look for some equipment, a huge insectoid creature lurches towards him (and the camera). That'll be something to do with the green slime, then.

First broadcast: January 25th, 1975

Steve's Scoreboard
The Good: Roger Murray-Leach's impressive set design (with an honourable mention for the welcome emergence of Harry Sullivan as a character at last).
The Bad: As compelling as it is to watch, the episode isn't exactly exciting. It'd have been spookier if the lights had stayed down a little longer as the Doctor and friends explored.
Overall score for episode: ★★★★★★★★★☆

"Would you like a jelly baby?" tally: 03

NEXT TIME: Part Two...

My reviews of this story's other episodes: Part Two; Part Three; Part Four

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.com/2014/06/the-ark-in-space.html

The Ark in Space is available on BBC DVD. Find it on Amazon - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Doctor-Who-Ark-Space-Special/dp/B00AHHVQE0