3. Spearhead from Space (1970)
Sam: If ever there was a movie version of Doctor Who, this has to be it. After Troughton left the role in eerie black and white, the show was back in colour – for those who had the technology – and instantly the tone has shifted. It’s now hard Science Fiction and refuses to speak down to its audience.
Greg: Goodness me, and those blank Auton faces…
Sam: Terrifying to this day. Expressionless automatons made from plastic breaking into your home.
Greg: I remember the first time I saw it as a boy on VHS cassette – I didn’t sleep that night! I wouldn’t go to the local woods to explore for a whole week in case those Autons were stalking around. Did it have an impact on you the first time?
Sam: Spearhead From Space terrified me like I can’t tell you. Much of its success must go to outgoing producer Derrick Sherwin, who’d decided it was time to bring the Doctor down to Earth, quite literally, and run the series as if the Doctor was Professor Quatermass – a scientific advisor to an army.
Greg: Yes, we’re very much in the suburbs now. We can relate to the locations. It’s human storytelling.
Sam: Suddenly, the horrors are on our doorstep. Meanwhile, the Doctor is heading up SAGE.
Greg: He’d do a better job.
Sam: In the case of this story, it’s all about an alien force that’s penetrated the plastics industry and planted thousands of man-sized plastic sentries in shop windows. When the time comes, the evil Nestene Consciousness presses the button and the world is attacked by lethal dummies at your local C&A. It’s genius. I still give mannequins the side eye.
Greg: It also helped to scare me personally because my dad worked in a plastics factory! He was always bringing home products.
Sam: He’s basically the character of Hibbert (John Woodnutt). Did he ever appear as if he was hypnotised by an sinister force at tea time? When your mum brought the fish fingers to the table, did he mutter: “Channing is my partner. New policy… Channing said…”
Greg: I told him, “Channing is your enemy!”
Sam: Teatime politics. Did you know I have a fear of Tupperware since watching Spearhead from Space. I can’t bear to sit on PVC.
Greg: Same here. But those shiny, sweaty Auton faces are so simple yet so grotesque. So odd that they changed the design for the worse in Terror of the Autons (1971) a year later.
Sam: I suspect they were trying to tone down the death-mask look. They have a slight smile too, have you noticed?
Greg: There’s also the way they move. The moment where the UNIT officer loses control of the jeep and the Auton stalks towards the blood-stained window of the smashed jeep is horrific. Traumatic, even! I was so upset when poor Mr Ransome (Derek Smee) died.
Sam: Yes, he’s the whistle blower isn’t he? His manic fear of the evils going on in the factory upsell the creepiness. The fact you think he’s safe with the Doctor and UNIT, drinking a cup of tea, when suddenly…
Greg: The look on his face as the Auton cuts its way through!
Sam: Destroyed. Total destruction. Pure horror.
Greg: There is some light relief, though. Dr Who almost gets his bum out.
Sam: Mr Pertwee has only been on screen for two minutes and suddenly he’s taking a shower in the nuddie.
Greg: Carry On Doctor Who.
Sam: Apparently Jon hated this story, but for me, it’s really hitting the ground running. Everything in the production is top notch: creepy music from Dudley Simpson; eerie sound effects from the Radiophonic Workshop; the production design of the Autons themselves, which still give me nightmares.
Greg: It sounds like we were both in therapy with this one!
Sam: There’s something about them being human, but not human enough; the uncanny valley. One of the reasons we’re terrified of puppets if we suspect they have a life of their own.
Greg: And what a cast…
Sam: We have the dependable Nick Courtney in this as the Brigadier, and the wonderful Caroline John as the Doctor’s new companion Liz. What do you make of her?
Greg: I’ve always adored Caroline John. I thought she was a great foil for the Doctor, and a level-headed, sensible scientist, too. Almost the Doctor’s equal, and a good role model for children.
Sam: You mention how it’s all on location. No studio work. It gifts it some tremendous production value, doesn’t it? The hospital location is glorious. It gleams on film.
Greg: It’s also where Tom Baker’s first story, Robot (1974), was filmed, up in Elstree. It still houses the antiquated shower where Pertwee washed off the Troughton sweat, flashed his tattoos and stole some poor doctor’s clothes and car. It’s outrageous! But brilliant comedy stuff. I’ll tell you who else is great in this – Hugh Burden.
Sam: Ah yes, as the stiff-faced, piscine Channing.
Greg: “We have been colonising other planets for a thousand million years. Now we have come to colonise Earth…”
Sam: He’s remarkably sinister as the dodgy executive who’s taken over the plastics firm and cucked the feeble Hibbert into the “total destruction” of humanity.
Greg: “At dawn, we will activate the Autons…”
Sam: Arch as hell. It’s pure James Bond territory. What’s interesting here, is that the writer, Robert Holmes, is using big business and the new plastics industry to hoodwink global consumerism. One can only wonder how those living in Mozambique, for instance, in 1969 would have fared under the great plastics invasion. In reality, it’s only an attack on the metropolitan elites.
Greg: True! You’re not supposed to notice these things. Remember when we went to Ealing High Street where it was filmed? The policeman was still there in that alleyway round from M&S.
Sam: PC Plod with flat feet.
Greg: Talf the Teeth pops up in this one too! He was only in two Whos, both Pertwees and both belters. I do worry the ending, where they return to Troughton’s Guinness factory location from The Invasion (1968), is a touch Russell T Davies in its clumsy deus ex machina ending, but other than that, it’s pretty faultless, would you say?
Sam: Oh indeed, the reset button happens plenty of times in real Doctor Who, but it’s all about the execution, foreshadowing and having some credibility. For instance, the Doctor has a quick solution, but has to face off many of Autons physically, then Hibbert has an emotional confrontation, before Channing has a battle of minds with the Doctor. Finally, Pertwee has a ball wrestling with a giant squid. By that point, you’re so sucked in it’s fine.
Greg: Yes, there are phases in the resolution. Structure and rational incidents. Unlike in the remake.
Sam: So I’d argue the finale isn’t that swift – it’s just quite simply resolved. You mentioned how this was shot on 16mm film; quite unique for Doctor Who as it’s produced on location like a movie. It looks like Jason King, or The Champions, or The Prisoner. Such a shame the BBC didn’t return to this glossy method again.
Greg: Isn’t it just! It’s very imaginatively directed, too. It’s so sad that virtually everyone in it is now dead. In fact, I can’t think of a single survivor.
Sam: Is young Dr Henderson still with us?
Greg: Dr Henderson died in 2018, almost half a century after his part in the show. Prentis Hancock, as the journalist, is possibly the last man standing. All such a long time ago now, but thank goodness we can still enjoy it. It’s truly timeless. What’s next?
Sam: Well, perhaps it’s no coincidence that in the number two slot it’s another location-heavy adventure that’s very in-tune with the mystical mood of the 1970s.
Greg: I’m preparing for more emotional trauma…
Sam: Move over Denis Wheatley. Expect fire and brimstone, as we cast the runes and descend into the fury of The One With The Devil In It….
