The one where the TARDIS crew is taken prisoner by space vixens...
And so here we are at the top of Season 3, more than 80 episodes after the series first launched in November 1963. In the six weeks that Doctor Who was off-air between seasons, the programme's slot was filled with another of my favourite things, classic comedy from Laurel and Hardy (The Music Box (1932), Hog Wild (1930), Dirty Work (1933), Towed in the Hole (1932) and Oliver the Eighth (1934)), plus the first in a new run of The Dick Van Dyke Show. If only the BBC would show those classic Stan and Ollie shorts on Saturdays again, but that's for another time entirely...
Four Hundred Dawns also marks the start of a prolonged period of missing episodes which pretty much lasts for the next three years. From the entirety of Seasons 1 and 2, just 11 episodes are missing, whereas Season 3 alone has 27 episodes missing from a total of 45 (60%). Doctor Who between 1965-68 is something of a Swiss cheese experience, with many stories either completely missing or partially missing. Of the 26 serials broadcast in Seasons 3, 4 and 5 (1965-68), only five exist in full (19%). Some have been patched up using animation, but it's just not the same. And so my journey through this frustrating period begins, on audio recorded during the live broadcast by David Holman, plus almost six minutes of footage which survives thanks to the 1977 Whose Doctor Who documentary.
There's a welcome return for Les Sculptures Sonores on the soundtrack, last heard in The Web Planet. At first you might be forgiven for thinking that the TARDIS has made a return visit to Vortis, as the soundscape is so distinct to that serial. I love this music, it's so alien and "other", and if Verity Lambert's original idea of using the Lasry-Baschet ensemble to compose Doctor Who's title music had gone ahead in 1963, I really don't think we'd be any the worse off. I reckon those French geniuses would have come up with something equally as weird and wonderful which would still be getting remixed by Murray Gold 50 years later. Bring it back!
After Vicki has given Steven a makeshift haircut in the TARDIS (does the Doctor not have a machine that cuts hair, like he does for making food?), the trio venture outside where they encounter some small, turtle-like robots which Vicki christens "Chumbleys" because of the way they move. Not sure if this makes sense, because to chumble is to nibble or chew. Maybe the word has a different meaning in the 25th century?
As an aside, when I Googled "chumbley" I also came across the late Andrew D Chumbley, a "practitioner and theorist of magic" who was Magister of the UK's magical group Cultus Sabbati, and was born just two years to the week after Four Hundred Dawns was broadcast. He also wrote books on witchcraft and magic through Xoanon Publishing. Spooky!
The Chumbleys are wonderful little creations. Although they are yet another attempt by the production team to replicate the success of the Daleks (we've already had the Zarbi and the Mechanoids), they are beautifully commercial in their aesthetic, and are suitably sweet-looking to imagine that they might have taken off. I can see it now, remote-controlled Chumbleys whizzing along suburban pavements or front room carpets over Christmas 1965, but alas, it was not to be.
They sound great too. We'd recently had the bizarre sound-based communication of the Mechanoids in The Planet of Decision, but here Brian Hodgson takes the sound design to another level, with whistling, buzzing, droning and that wonderful repetitive noise when the Chumbleys are moving, like a phone ringing inside an oil drum. Because the Chumbleys didn't speak, they had limited scope for storytelling, which is what lets them down. But for four weeks in Autumn 1965 at least, we had them!
I had to smirk at the sting of music which accompanied the first reveal of the Drahvins, a sort of "dolly bird" saxophone straight out of a smutty Carry On film. And Steven continues to reveal aspects of his character which may not be enviable, but which do make him more real. In A Battle of Wits he patronised the forward-thinking Vicki with a "Who's a clever girl" when they discovered the secret tunnel she guessed would exist, while here he reveals a misogynist streak when he claps eyes on the Drahvins: "Aren't they a lovely surprise! And very nice too!", and later he rather euphemistically suggests the Drahvin ship has "one or two good features". I suppose we can afford to let him off, seeing as the only adult women he's seen since being stranded on Mechanus for two years is Barbara Wright and Edith the Saxon (both of whom were some years older than him). These Drahvins must have been manna from heaven for a strapping twentysomething space pilot (in a cardigan) like him!
As the Doctor points out, the Drahvins are a fascinating race. Maaga is the only living Drahvin present, the others being test tube creations bred as warriors and lacking independent thought. On Drahva, there are very few males, and the ones that are there are used for menial tasks, otherwise performing "no particular function". Sounds like the way planet Earth might be heading... Stephanie Bidmead is great as one of Doctor Who's earliest villainesses (we've already had Kala in The Keys of Marinus and Poppaea in The Romans). The way she delivers/ spits the word "disgusting" when describing the Rills is wonderful ("That's no description," says the Doctor, "no description at all"). In fact, the way the Drahvins talk of the Rills generally is economically but creatively expressed. Earlier, they tell the travellers: "They are fiends... they crawl... they murder". That's quite enough to put the willies up anyone!
The Doctor and Steven go back to the TARDIS (Vicki staying with the Drahvins as their hostage/ surety) to find out what exactly is happening to this nameless planet they've landed on. The Rills have told the Drahvins that it is due to explode in two weeks, but when the Doctor consults his astral map (another welcome return from The Web Planet) it seems the truth is much starker - there are actually only two dawns left! The planet is due to explode the day after tomorrow...
First broadcast: September 11th, 1965
Steve's Scoreboard
The Good: The Chumbleys are well-designed little creations by Richard Hunt, enhanced by Brian Hodgson's sound design. It's great to have Les Sculptures Sonores back too!
The Bad: Steven's sexism. It doesn't become him.
Overall score for episode: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆
NEXT TIME: Trap of Steel...
My reviews of this story's other episodes: Trap of Steel (episode 2); Air Lock (episode 3); The Exploding Planet (episode 4)
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.co.uk/2013/09/galaxy-4.html
The soundtrack to Galaxy 4 is available on CD. Find it on Amazon - https://www.amazon.co.uk/d/Books/Doctor-Who-Galaxy-4-Peter-Purves/0563477008. The extant episode 3 (Air Lock) and almost six minutes of surviving footage from episode 1 (Four Hundred Dawns) can be found on The Aztecs Special Edition DVD. Find it on Amazon - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Doctor-Who-Aztecs-Special-DVD/dp/B00AREPA1I
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