Vengeance on Varos Part Two

The one where Peri is turned into a bird...

"Here comes the acid bath."

"I hate this bit."

There's an attempt at the top of this episode to explain why the Doctor is apparently dead from heat exhaustion when there's no physical reason to cause it. I struggled with the sense of it in my review last episode, and here writer Philip Martin tries - and, in my opinion, fails - to explain. "His mind thought he was dying of thirst," says the Governor. Sil continues: "His body agreed, so die they did."

Sorry, but no. It still doesn't work for me. "His body agreed"? Where does science come into this? I truly struggle with the idea that convincing the mind of something results in a physical, and deadly, effect on the body. You can convince the mind of things through suggestion, hypnosis, or simple lies, but the body can only respond to a physical cause, surely? The Doctor feels thirsty and hot, but he's not really either of those things, so why would his body respond accordingly?

Of course, there is a tiny get-out clause in the script when the Chief Officer says the Doctor was only pretending to be dead, suggesting the Doctor pretended to die of heat exhaustion in order to escape. I dunno, I need to stop over-thinking it!

Nabil Shaban is the outright star of Vengeance on Varos, virtually the only good thing about it. Some people laud the innovative, creative storyline from Martin, but his dialogue is very much 'the written word'. It's prose not designed to be spoken out loud by real people. I credit his world-building, but when it boils down to examining the actual plot, the progression of cause, effect and incident, it's severely lacking. Part 2 is by and large one long runaround of capture and escape, with some rather dull politics thrown in for poor measure.

But Sil is a different kettle of marsh minnows. Shaban gives 100% to his performance as the slimy Mentor, taking every single opportunity to make him repulsive, obnoxious and thoroughly unpleasant to both watch and listen to. His eccentric translation device, which gives so much unwitnessed amusement to the Governor, creates some fun dialogue. Coupled with Shaban's sprinkling of childish tantrums, Sil as a whole creation is a masterpiece in Doctor Who's 1980s crown. "You lying liar!" he screams, while later referring to the reptilian Areta as "almost attractive", and wondering whether to keep the mutated Peri and Areta as "pretty, pretty pets".

I love the scene where Sil courts his own ego, asking his muscular Nubian aide to water him with a trigger spray ("Gently! Gently!"), then regarding his impish, googly face in the mirror. When the Governor and his entourage walk in, Sil quickly hides the mirror, embarrassed by his vanity. Shaban really is wonderful. It's a shame he isn't given much to do.

It is part 2 of this story that attracts the criticism regarding the level of violence in Doctor Who around this time. The most infamous sequence is the "acid bath scene", in which two Varosian guards fall to their deaths into a bath of corrosive acid. It's often said that the Doctor's involvement in this scene crosses a line, and it's hard to disagree, although he isn't as "responsible" as many think. He does not push anybody into the acid bath, it is the horribly-mutated first guard who pulls the second guard in after him. The shot of the guard's boiling, suppurating skin definitely crosses a line, as does the entire concept of an acid bath in the first place. I don't know what was running through the minds of the production team at this time, but body bags, acid baths and melting flesh should not have a place in a family teatime show.

I have no truck with the Doctor's apparent role in the acid bath scene (he's not to know it's acid), but what I find objectionable is his reaction to it. Two men have just died in one of the most excruciatingly painful ways imaginable, right before his eyes, but he reacts with a wry smile and a supposedly witty quip ("You'll forgive me if I don't join you") before merrily toddling off, unmoved by their demises. A witty quip such as this is straight out of the Roger Moore Guide to Playing James Bond, but Doctor Who should not be reading that book. It's a failing on the part of script editor, writer and actor that the Doctor does not react in any compassionate or regretful way to these men's deaths. Yet again, this incarnation has failed to live up to the name of the Doctor.

Later, the Doctor instructs Jondar (the wettest rebel leader this side of Xeros) to rig up a trap to use the poisonous vines to sting, and kill, the Chief Officer, Quillam and a guard. He didn't need to do that, despite him saying it's "the best they can do". So the best thing the Sixth Doctor can think of in this situation is to purposefully murder three men? Which other Doctor would claim that as their "go-to" solution? It's lazy, offensive and disrespectful to the character. The Doctor learned long ago (in 100,000 BC) to be better than this. Whatever has gone wrong?

The world Philip Martin conjures is a grubby society built on the foundation of torture and violence. I get that it's an interesting sci-fi concept, but it's treated with such visceral honesty that it feels too strong for the Doctor Who frame. It needed to be toned down considerably. The judicious use of allegory or analogy wouldn't have gone amiss, just some understanding of the art of subtlety on the part of the writer and script editor. But instead, everything is presented as it might be in a horror film aimed at much older viewers. Acid baths, melting flesh, body bags, facial and bodily disfigurement, cannibalism, injury detail ("His neck's swollen as if fit to burst") and hanging all feature in these 45 minutes alone. No wonder viewers complained...

The execution scene is another major mis-step. Apart from the fact Tony Snoaden's set design is boldly unconvincing (is it supposed to be outdoors?), the tone is unremittingly grim for 6pm on a Saturday evening. We see the Doctor and Jondar's heads put in nooses, and are told Peri and Areta will undergo cell mutation. This is Dr Moreau, Hammer horror and Witchfinder General all mixed into one Doctor Who scenario, and not the sort of thing parents would want their little ones to see. "Should the Doctor be lying," bores the Governor, "he will find the next noose about his neck will sever his head from his spinal column." I mean, really?!

On the plus side, I rather like Colin Baker's flippancy through this scene, from the moment he gives a cheery "Hello!" to the guard entering his cell, to the pointed way he asks who Sil is and why he's present, to the way he works out the execution cannot be real as the cameras aren't switched on. He has a Doctorish charm here which is too often missing elsewhere, proving that he is capable of balancing a well-pitched performance at times. Just not all the time, and not enough.

The transmogrification of Peri and Areta is a triumph for the make-up department, but serves very little purpose other than to tread water. It's a nasty, repellent process, and the concept behind it is genuinely inspired, but it doesn't go anywhere. Cecile Hay-Arthur and Dorka Nieradzik work wonders in making Nicola Bryant all feathery and Geraldine Alexander all scaly ("almost attractive"), but the process is too easily reversed and there's virtually no consequence. OK, so Peri and Areta struggle to walk straight for five minutes, but they've had their entire molecular make-up twisted out of shape, almost permanently. Shouldn't that be something big, something important, something that has a lasting effect on the characters? Five minutes later, Peri's metabolism has reset and she's asking if she can address the people of Varos in a televised speech. The Governor reminds her that her words would be seen as "the ramblings of someone deranged by the transmogrification process". "But I'm fine now!" chirps Peri.

This story is packed with things that make my brain squeak:

• Why is the Governor so interested in who the Doctor and Peri are, and what they have to say? He wants to question them, to "get the truth", but to what end? Surely their greatest value is sticking them in front of the TV cameras and torturing them for mass entertainment, if not only to delay his own execution. We already know the Governor is not a good man. He's a man whose morals went out the window long ago in favour of self-preservation ("You grieve for [the Doctor's] death. I forget that people do"). So why is he so intent on quizzing them? He's keen to do this even before the Doctor reveals the true value of zeiton ore in the hanging scene.
• And why is it so difficult for the Governor and Sil to believe Peri is a time traveller from the past? Zeiton-7 is a vital element for space/ time craft, which means this civilisation knows of, and is conversant with, time travel as a concept. When the Doctor asks for some zeiton-7 for his TARDIS at the end, nobody bats an eyelid.
• If Sil's company has such a thing as an occupation force, established in order to invade planets and wrest control for its own pecuniary end, why does it even bother to send representatives to negotiate trade deals? Why doesn't it just go round invading the worlds it needs control of, and not pay a single credit for anything?
• And how can Varos not know the true value of zeiton-7? I cannot believe they've gone all this time not knowing that Varos is the only planet in the universe to have this vital ore. Not a single time traveller has rocked up on Varos for a sack of zeiton-7, mentioning that it's the only place you can get it?
• The transmogrification process causes the victim to mutate into the embodiment of their inner fears, so Areta's reptilian appearance reveals she sees herself as unworthy (what of? Handsome Jondar?), while Peri's avian visage shows she is keen to fly away from trouble. There's an entire thesis to be written on Peri's psychological condition (sexual abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, Stockholm Syndrome...).
• Another mid-80s story, another disfigured face. This time it's evil scientist Quillam (played with lip-curling relish by Nicolas Chagrin), the latest in a line of characters who've had an eye burnt off. The difference this time is that, once unmasked, Quillam stays unmasked, his deformed face remaining on screen as if it's a hat or a coat. Kids are watching this, kids who will be horrified by the sight of disfigured faces. We've already had disfigured faces in The Awakening, Resurrection of the Daleks and The Caves of Androzani, and this would continue in stories such as The Two Doctors, Timelash, Revelation of the Daleks and The Trial of a Time Lord. Surely, this is all too much?
• The Varosian buggies are almost (but not quite) as useless as the ones the Happiness Patrol use on Terra Alpha. It really would be quicker to run, Doctor.
• Despite the story being shown in 1985, the Chief Officer's words about the system of government on Varos speak to me in 2022, as a British citizen appalled by the behaviour of his country's elected representatives: "The regulations have a clause for just the situation that we are in now. At the end of every Governor's term there comes a time of disapproval, where the people tire of his incompetence. The wish to vote him down."
• I was quite impressed by the special effect of the bubbling pit of (let's presume) acid the Doctor and friends are almost lured into in the green passage. It reminds me of the effects used in the children's fantasy game show Knightmare (1987-94).
• "What we're entering now is the area of most dangerous ordeal." Oh come on, how did this crap get through to transmission?
• We've had every other horror move trope, so why not throw in some cannibalism for good measure? Unexpectedly, these cannibals are wiry old men in giant nappies, baring their dentures and flashing their stubby fingernails in unintentionally comical fashion. This is a very embarrassing moment in Doctor Who history: cannibals who look like your grandad. One of the two uncredited "madmen", Alan Troy, had been an occasional extra in Doctor Who since 1966, but this was his final appearance in the show. Let's face it, he had nowhere to go from here. As Doctor Who's interpretation of a flesh-eating cannibal, he'd already swallowed his pride.
• "Let the show begin!" sneers Quillam. "I want to hear them scream until I'm deaf with pleasure. To see their limbs twist in excruciating agony. Ultimately their blood must gush and flow along the gutters of Varos. The whole planet must delight in their torture and death." This sort of dialogue is patently not fit for family viewing, and Philip Martin perhaps not best suited to writing for the show.

So how does our hero, the Doctor, bring down this evil, sadistic system of governance and bring health, wealth and prosperity to the good people of Varos? Well, truth be told, he doesn't. He doesn't do very much at all to resolve the situation, unless you count murdering the nasty sadists in charge. The Doctor does not beat the baddies using stealth of mind or his (formerly) trademark ingenuity. Instead, it is the Lord of Coincidence that steps into the breach, as the Galatron Mining Corporation reports it's found zeiton ore elsewhere (an asteroid in Biosculptor) and calls off the invasion of Varos. Sil is told to pay Varos whatever price it asks for zeiton-7. There, job done. Everyone can go home now, including the Doctor and Peri, who added virtually nothing to the story.

I think the intention with Vengeance on Varos was to show what a society would be like if the misfortune and tragedy of others became a standard form of entertainment. Reality TV was just around the corner, programmes where half-remembered celebrities are forced to eat animal shit and clean their teeth with barbed wire. We're not so far away from the televisual delicacies of Varos, watching other human beings suffer, both physically and emotionally, in the name of viewers' personal gratification (and to the benefit of advertisers' pockets). We might not yet be watching bony grandsires dressed in nappies wrestling over scraps of meat, but we're not that far off.

The thing is, the intended message of Vengeance on Varos is buried by the unrepentant grimness of the piece itself. It's trying to say something about how damaging video nasties are, but it's no more than a video nasty itself. It is the very thing it's warning against. Doctor Who has tumbled into a state where hangings, torture, mutation, disfigurement and cannibalism are ways by which to tell a story. The makers of Doctor Who should be cleverer than that.

Sadly, I don't think Doctor Who was capable of subtlety at this time.

First broadcast: January 26th, 1985

Steve's Scoreboard
The Good: Nabil Shaban, a water spray, and a mirror. Genius!
The Bad: The horror film tick list is relentless and depressing. All that's missing is a mad axeman.
Overall score for episode: ★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ (story average: 4 out of 10)

Word repetition: 4

NEXT TIME: The Mark of the Rani...

My reviews of this story's other episodes: Part One

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.

Vengeance on Varos is available on BBC DVD. Find it on Amazon - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Doctor-Who-Vengeance-Varos-DVD/dp/B00005NGUF