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Blakes 7 – Blake

November 5, 2016November 6, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, chris boucher, gareth thomas, glynis barber, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey

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The opening of Blake, following on from the events of Warlord, finds Avon and the others at a low ebb. They’ve been forced to destroy their base at Xenon, due to fears that either Zukan or one of the other members of their recent meeting might have betrayed its location to the Federation.

This rather begs the question as to why Avon decided to hold the meeting there, but by now it should be fairly clear that he’s not operating in the most rational manner. He explains that the death of Zukan leaves them with a problem – they need to find another figurehead to lead their attack against the Federation. This doesn’t quite tie back to the events seen in Warlord though as whilst Avon was keen to use Zukan, it wasn’t as a unifying leader.

No matter, it’s only a slight continuity error and it does neatly explain why Avon’s suddenly decided to track down Blake after all this time. He explains to the others that Blake “is strongly identified with rebels, you see, and very popular with rabbles. They will follow him, and he will fight to the last drop of their blood.”

Blake’s apparently on Gauda Prime, a totally lawless planet which has recently made an application to restore its former legal status. In order to do this they need to ensure that all criminals are caught as quickly as possible. And this is Blake’s job. As improbable as it sounds, Blake’s working as a bounty hunter.

Our first sight of Blake is an arresting one. Viewed from the side he appears to be the same man that we’d seen at the end of series two, but it’s only when he turns to face the camera that the wicked scar running down the right hand side of his face is visible. It’s never explained how he came by this, but it’s clear that the last few years haven’t been easy for him. Gareth Thomas instantly commands the screen as an older, wearier, bitterer Blake, seemingly reduced to catching criminals for money.

Humour is in short supply in this story, but I like the squabble between Orac and Slave, which sees Orac exasperated that Slave would have the temerity to interrupt him. After a few minutes, Slave sounds the alarm and after everyone’s rushed about for a few seconds he admits that there’s no danger, he simply wanted to get their attention! This moment of amusement doesn’t last long as Scorpio then really does come under attack and the painful descent to Gauda Prime begins.

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They all throw themselves around the set with abandon whilst fairly feeble explosions go off. It all looks a little half-hearted, but once everybody except Tarrant has teleported to the surface the fun can really begin. That’s when the ship is comprehensively destroyed and Slave speaks his final words. If the model shot of Scorpio crashing through the trees looks a little underwhelming, then the full size destruction of the ship is impressively done.

If Blake has a problem then it’s the fact that nothing much really happens for the first forty five minutes. Everything’s geared up for the meeting between Blake and Avon, meaning that everything else is just preamble – apart for one important revelation. Blake captures Tarrant and manages to convince him that he’s a fearsome bounty hunter, but it’s all a sham, revealed in this conversation between Blake and Deva (David Collings).

DEVA: These stupid games you insist on playing, Blake, will get someone killed eventually.
BLAKE: I have to test each one myself.
DEVA: No, you don’t have to! I set up systems for that. I broke the security codes on their central computer. I got us access to official channels, information, everything we could possibly need! You don’t need to be involved at all.
BLAKE: All right, I find it difficult to trust. It’s a failing, I admit!
DEVA: And any one of our people could select the people you’ve collected. You don’t need to do the bounty hunter routine, either!
BLAKE: Indulge me.
DEVA: Do I have a choice?
BLAKE: Oh, there’s always a choice, Deva.

If some of Avon’s recent behaviour has been bizarre, then so is this. Blake couldn’t foresee that Avon wouldn’t listen to reason when they met up, but Deva was quite right when he told Blake that he was playing a dangerous game. This part of the story doesn’t quite hold water anyway – we assume that Blake is recruiting an army from the criminals on Gauda Prime to fight the Federation. But is picking the scum of the earth (a group of lawless murderers) really the wisest choice? Why isn’t he going from planet to planet, inciting rebellion? This begs another question (sadly unanswered), namely is Blake’s scar as fake as his bounty hunter story?

The fact that he doesn’t even have to be there at all – he’s simply playing games – is bizarre. And pretending to Tarrant that he’s prepared to turn them all over to the Federation proves to be a fatal mistake. Tarrant rushes over to tell Avon (who has coincidentally just stepped through the door) which means that the reunion between Blake and Avon doesn’t quite end the way either of them hoped for.

Darrow’s delivery of the line “have you betrayed us? Have you betrayed me?” has come in for a little criticism over the years. True, he’s more than a little arch here, but in context it works if you accept this is now an Avon at total breaking point. As Avon repeatedly shoots Blake you can see a range of expressions play across Darrow’s face which indicate that Avon realises, almost as soon as he’s pulled the trigger, that he’s made a horrendous mistake. It’s a little too late though ….

Then all the others die (possibly) in slow motion. With the destruction of Scorpio and the entire crew seemingly dead, that would appear to have been a fairly final ending. But it’s always intrigued me that Gareth Thomas agreed to return only if Blake was shown to be 100% dead at the end – that way, he argued, he’d no longer have to worry that he’d lose parts due to people assuming he was still the star of Blakes 7. But if the series was coming to an end this makes no sense.

Was a fifth series on the cards? There’s always a way out – demonstrated by the oodles of fan fiction which states that the others weren’t really dead, they were merely stunned (even though we’ve never seen Federation guns set to stun in the series). True, we don’t see Avon die, but unless the guards were really poor shots it’s pretty much a certainty. And even though Blake appears to be very dead that can easily be explained away – it wasn’t Blake, it was his clone from Weapon. Of course ….

Whether you like to believe that they all lived to fight another day or that this really was the final end, Blake offers as uncompromising a conclusion to the series as you could possibly ever expect to see. It’s certainly worth sitting through the first forty five minutes for the final five.

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Blakes 7 – Warlord

November 4, 2016November 4, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, glynis barber, jacqueline pearce, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, simon masters, stephen pacey

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The Federation’s pacification drug, Pylene 50, continues to spread through the galaxy – affecting more and more planets. Avon calls together a number of interested parties in the hope that together they’ll be able to form an alliance. Success seems to hinge on the cooperation of the notorious warlord Zukan (Roy Boyd).

Although Zukan’s thirst for war and conquest is well known, he tells the others that he’s here in good faith and has the means to produce a toxin to combat the pacification drug. But matters are complicated after Zukan’s daughter, Zeeona (Bobbie Brown), is found to have stowed away on her father’s ship – especially since she and Tarrant have something of a history ….

Warlord has never been a terribly well regarded B7 story, possibly because of the interesting clothes and hairstyles. There’s no getting away from it, the delegates look if they’d be more at home at a fancy-dress party rather than a summit meeting which will decide the fate of the galaxy. Zukan and Zeeona also sport the most amazing haircuts, especially Zeeona who looks like a cut-price Toyah.

There’s also the Rick James problem. If you’re a Doctor Who fan then you’ll probably be aware of his idiosyncratic performance in the 1972 story The Mutants. Nearly a decade might have passed since that unforgettable turn, but James pretty much picks up where he left off – wooden doesn’t even begin to describe him. Mind you, given what he’s wearing it’s no surprise that it’s hard to take him seriously.

But if you can put all that to one side, there’s plenty here to catch your attention. After being touched upon earlier in the season, Pylene 50 makes a comeback – and in a very striking way. The opening sequence, set on the latest planet to fall to the pacification process, is an eerie and disturbing one. The population of Zondar, heavily drugged, are mown down by Federation troops, whilst all the time encouraging words (“You are cared for. You are loved”) can be heard over the tannoy. This has elements of the harder-edged vision of a drugged future seen in The Way Back (although rarely glimpsed afterwards).

After enduring defeat after defeat, it looks as if Avon’s luck has finally turned. But it shouldn’t come as any surprise to learn that Zukan’s a dirty double-crosser, secretly in cahoots with Servalan. This is where we must bid farewell to Servalan and it has to be said that she exits with a whimper rather than a bang. It’s long been debated as to why Jacqueline Pearce didn’t appear in Blake – you’d have assumed it would have been an obvious move, especially if it was known that the series definitely wasn’t coming back. We’ll touch upon this again next time, but maybe Chris Boucher and Vere Lorrimer were eyeing a possible fifth series – that would certainly explain why Servalan’s final appearance is little more than a not-terribly-interesting cameo.

Simon Masters’ script (his only effort for the series) is well tailored for most of the other regulars. Avon and Soolin carry the action, although Soolin’s proactive presence does mean that Dayna rather fades into the background. Vila spends his time drinking and seemingly avoiding Avon. A nod back to the events of Orbit maybe, as he tries to come to terms with Avon’s actions?

Tarrant spends his time making eyes at Zeeona, although just as Zukan is obviously a wrong-‘un, so it’s clear that Tarrant and Zeeona’s love is going to be somewhat on the short-lived side. Her death is an interesting moment. After learning of her father’s treachery she attempts to undo some of the damage he’s caused, but a flesh-eating virus puts paid to her. Dayna tells Tarrant that she died because she took her glove off – was this an accident or did she, wracked with guilt about her father’s actions, decide to commit suicide? Either possibility is valid. Bobbie Brown may be saddled with a silly haircut but is still rather good as the doomed Zukan.

After a run of disasters, it seems that only one man can unify them, so next time Avon sets out to find Blake. I wonder if this will be where his luck finally changes? Hmmmm …….

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Blakes 7 – Orbit

November 3, 2016November 3, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, glynis barber, jacqueline pearce, john savident, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, robert holmes, stephen pacey

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A renegade scientist called Egrorian (John Savident) has an offer that Avon can’t refuse – a weapon of incredible power (the Tachyon Funnel) in exchange for Orac. You possibly won’t be shocked to hear that there’s a catch though ….

After his previous story, Traitor, failed to hit the mark, Robert Holmes certainly bounced back with Orbit. Maybe one of the reasons why Traitor didn’t work that well was because it was the only one of Holmes’ four B7 scripts that didn’t team Avon and Vila up. It’s plain that Holmes saw plenty of possibilities in the Avon/Vila relationship – it’s certainly of the reasons why this one works as well as it does.

Holmes’ Doctor Who scripts tended to feature double-acts, a tradition he carries on here – apart from Avon and Vila there’s also Egrorian and Pinder (Larry Noble). Egrorian is the sort of role that’s a gift for an actor of a certain type – i.e. one who’s not afraid to go soaring over the top. John Savident was clearly that sort of actor. It’s a grotesque (in a good way) turn, totally lacking in subtlety but with the occasional hint of menace to counter the fairly flippant dialogue.

This must have been a fairly cheap show to make, with just a couple of new sets and only two guest stars. But it never feels like a bottle show or something cobbled together on the cheap because the end of season was fast approaching and the money had run out. Holmes concentrates on just four characters – Avon, Vila, Egrorian and Servalan (yes, of course she’s lurking about) – and gives them some sparkling dialogue, such as here when Egrorian lays eyes on Avon and Vila for the first time.

EGRORIAN: Surprisingly, you don’t look like the ruthless desperados of legend. But you have, of course, killed a great many people.
AVON: Only in the pursuit of liberty.
EGRORIAN: “O Liberty! O Liberty! What crimes are committed in your name!” Do you know the source?
AVON: No.
EGRORIAN: No, why should you? Natural leaders are rarely encumbered with intelligence. Greed, egotism, animal cunning, and viciousness are the important attributes. Qualities I detect in you in admirably full measure.

Larry Noble, as Egrorian’s assistant Pinder, has very little dialogue, but he still manages to catch the eye. Noble manages to suffer incredibly well and his hangdog expression immediately engenders sympathy from the audience, something which is increased after we see how badly Egrorian treats him. There’s a certain cruelty and sadism that runs through Holmes’ Doctor Who scripts which is also present here – best demonstrated after Pinder beats Egrorian at chess. Egrorian doesn’t like this and proceeds to twist Pinder’s arm. “Can you feel your extensor muscle tearing? Can you feel your humerus grating against your radius? Hmm.? Just a little more… a little more… now you’re feeling it, aren’t you?”

It’s more than a little unpleasant, but it helps to shine a light on their dysfunctional relationship. Quite how they’ve entertained themselves during the last ten years (they’ve been in exile together) is probably best left to the imagination, although Egrorian’s comment that “naughty boys must be punished” offers a world of possibilities.

Hey, here’s a surprise – Egrorian plans to double-cross Avon and the others because he’s secretly working for Servalan. Bet you didn’t see that coming. So far, so familiar, but Holmes continues to give Savident some choice dialogue and he doesn’t disappoint. Here, Egrorian outlines to Servalan his vision of a shared future. “A connubial partnership, Servalan. Why not? Alone you are formidable enough, but together we would stand like mountains.” Jacqueline Pearce also seems to relish the chance to play something a little different, as we see Servalan ever-so-slightly discomforted by the effusive and fulsome Egrorian.

The key part of the story takes place during the last few minutes. Avon and Vila are heading back to Scorpio in Egrorian’s shuttle, but there’s a problem – they’ll never make the escape velocity as the shuttle’s carrying too much weight. Frantically they jettison everything they can think of, but they still need to find another seventy kilos. Avon wonders what weighs seventy kilos, to which Orac replies that “Vila weighs seventy-three kilos, Avon.”

Paul Darrow’s facial expression after Orac delivers this bombshell is a treat. He shakes his head ever so slightly, but then seems to pull himself together and goes hunting for Vila. Darrow’s S4 Avon was not known for its subtlety, and so it proves here, as he goes into “I’m not going to kill you, I’m your friend, honest” mode. It’s not terribly convincing, so you can’t blame Vila for staying hidden.

All turns out well in the end, Avon stumbles (literally) against the problem – a microscopic fragment of a neutron star, planted by Egrorian to kill them – and is able to get rid of it. But the damage has been done. Vila might not have mentioned it to the others, but he now knows exactly how far Avon will go to protect his interests. It’s a nice dramatic moment for Michael Keating, something of a rarity this late in the series.

This may be a talky, studio-based story, but it doesn’t really get any better than Orbit, thanks to John Savident’s exuberant performance and the way that Holmes skewers the Avon/Vila relationship.

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Blakes 7 – Gold

November 2, 2016October 23, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, colin davis, glynis barber, jacqueline pearce, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey

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Avon is contacted by an old acquaintance called Keiller (Roy Kinnear), the purser of a pleasure liner called the Space Princess. The Space Princess has a secret cargo – gold, mined from the planet Zerok. Because it’s travelling incognito there’s very little security, so stealing it should be a doddle – except for one snag.

Before the gold is put aboard the ship it’s processed in such a way that it turns black and is therefore worthless unless you have the computer code which will change it back. Keiller suggests they tamper with the processing machine on Zerok so that unprocessed gold is loaded aboard the ship instead. It seems like a foolproof plan, what could possibly go wrong?

Roy Kinnear is great fun throughout as Keiller. One of those actors who just seemed to generate goodwill from the audience, he plays rather to type as the cowardly Keiller. Kinnear gives him such a shifty and untrustworthy air right from the start that it seems obvious he’s going to double-cross Avon and the others. Or is that too obvious? Since this is a heist tale there’s a number of twists and turns, so when it’s revealed that Keiller used to work for the Federation it’s possible to wonder if this is actually the truth or just more disinformation.

Keiller’s relationship with both Avon and Soolin has some nice comic moments. He continually refers to Avon as his old friend and Soolin as my pretty one. No surprises that Avon regards him as no friend or that Soolin is unimpressed with Keiller’s attempts at flattery.

We’re told that Vila doesn’t trust Keiller and wants no part of the scheme. Michael Keating only has a handful of lines throughout the story, which is slightly strange – although the next episode is more tailored to his talents. This leaves Avon and Soolin paired together whilst the familiar combination of Tarrant and Dayna also team up yet again. All four teleport down to Zerok, Avon and Soolin travel down to the bowels of the planet with Keiller, whilst Tarrant and Dayna remain up top, keeping an eye on the guards.

The Zerok processing plant (actually a refuse disposal centre in Poole) is one of those typically industrialised Blakes 7 locations that featured regularly during the first few years of the show. It gives Soolin a chance to demonstrate just how sharp a shooter she is as she merrily mows down multiple hapless guards. The combination of Avon and Soolin is a good one – a slight pity it wasn’t seen on more occasions – his brain and her brawn (as well as the fact they both have a sardonic sense of humour) appeals.

It’s later revealed that the Space Princess is a fake cruise liner – it travels straight from Zerok to Earth whilst the passengers (all drugged up) are shown pictures of various sights which, in their chemically altered state, they believe to be real. Whilst Avon busies himself with the gold, the others pose as passengers. Stephen Pacey seems to be enjoying himself as a doped-out passenger.

Although Roy Kinnear provides the story with a veneer of comedy, underneath it’s quite a dark little tale. The bodycount is quite high (at least a dozen or so guards are killed before the gold is stolen). It’s also fair to say that the ending doesn’t really come as a great surprise – Servalan turned out to be behind the plan right from the start and turns up to taunt Avon.

SERVALAN: Congratulations, Avon. I see you worked it out.
AVON: Keiller was once on the personal security staff of the president of the Federation. That just had to be you. It wasn’t hard to work out. But it wasn’t meant to be, was it?
SERVALAN: I don’t know what you mean.
AVON: You wouldn’t leave me a clue like that. Not unless you really wanted to. You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist it. You planned everything, every move, you even knew that Keiller would disobey you, and you hoped that I would trust him because of that.
SERVALAN: Very good.
AVON: I almost did trust Keiller. When I found out it was you, I knew I was safe from him, at least. After all, he has nothing to gain from obeying you. Only in the end, it occurred to me that he might possibly imagine that you would keep your side of the bargain and pay him his reward instead of just killing him. He doesn’t know you as well as I do.

It’s the only time that Avon and Servalan have a meaningful face to face conversation during series four. Avon’s final reaction to their dismal failure is characteristic – he laughs hysterically whilst the others look on stony-faced. Another sign that Avon’s losing it? It could have been worse I guess, they all could have had a giggle, which thankfully only happened on a few closing scenes (Breakdown is probably my least favourite example of this).

Not quite the best that series four has to offer, but Kinnear is entertaining and the story is solid enough.

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Blakes 7 – Sand

November 1, 2016October 21, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, glynis barber, jacqueline pearce, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey, tanith lee

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Servalan has elected to join a Federation mission dispatched to the sandy planet Virn. Together with Reeve (Stephen Yardley), Chasgo (Daniel Hill) and an unnamed assistant (played by Peter Craze), she intends to find out what happened to a research party last heard from some five years ago. They find the going treacherous after their ship crash-lands a fair distance away from the research base. Avon is intrigued to learn that the Federation, after all this time, has decided to send a ship to investigate this most inhospitable of planets. He decides that if there’s anything of value on Virn, they should have it rather than the Federation. It quickly becomes clear that the sand has a form of sentience as strange things start to happen ….

Like Tanith Lee’s previous script, Sarcophagus, Sand is something of a bottle show which delights in putting the regulars under the microscope. Most interestingly, we see a much more human Servalan than usual. The reason for her emotional state becomes clear after it’s revealed she’s come to the planet in order to find out what happened to Don Keller (Jonathan Gaunt). Keller, via a recording, is the first voice we hear.

I know a land beyond the heart of time. The sun never comes there. No moon ever shines. And man, a grain of sand, nameless and lost, blows with the dust. I apologise, HQ, but that’s what this place makes me think of. The sun never comes here. Just sand and mist. Virn, the green planet. Never rains here either. There’s something strange. Not just the way the ship was affected when we came down. Not just the way all the machinery plays up. Not just the way we’re dying. You still listening, HQ? This is Don Keller, remember me? On Virn, where we have a plague on our hands. On my hands. So when do I get something from you?

Unlike Sarcophagus, this story boasts a guest cast – although not all of them make it to the final reel. Unsurprisingly, Peter Craze’s unnamed assistant is the first to bite the dust (or sand) with Reeve following shortly after. Yardley has the most substantial guest-star role, although Investigator Reeve isn’t a terribly interesting character – he’s an alpha male who takes a shine to Servalan (her disinterest is total and cutting). It’s hard to command authority when you’re dressed in a shiny silver spacesuit, but Yardley does have some good lines and makes the most of the role.

The deaths of the ship’s crew enables the narrative to be split in two – Servalan and Tarrant remain isolated on Virn whilst Avon and the others are also trapped, but on Scorpio.

If Servalan was going to be locked up with anyone then Avon would have been the obvious choice. But I’m glad that Lee avoided the obvious, since Sand gives Stephen Pacey a long overdue chance to do a spot of acting. Throughout series three Tarrant was incredibly smackable, but this hasn’t been a problem during series four (mainly because Tarrant has been underwritten so badly that he’s hardly contributed at all). Sand enables Tarrant to step out of Avon’s shadow and Pacey doesn’t disappoint.

Here, for example, he posits a reasonable explanation for the current state of affairs. This is a rare occurrence – normally Avon would be the one with all the answers. “The trace of life on Virn was the sand. Some emanation from it affects the atmosphere, even the magnetic fields of the planet, and causes the rest of the trouble: ships crash, instruments fail, nobody can protect himself. And when the sand comes into contact with a human body it sucks out the cellular energy, sometimes fast, sometimes slowly. I imagine that depends on how much sand is in the vicinity. But that’s what Keller’s plague was.”

Tanith Lee serves both Tarrant and Servalan well, delivering up some very quotable dialogue. This is how Tarrant describes his room-mate. “I’d say you’re possibly the most unscrupulously venomous woman in the galaxy. Being shut in here with you is rather like being locked in a cage with a panther: a black cat with large golden eyes and long silver talons.” Servalan’s rejoinder is that she’s just the girl next door! Tarrant’s next line is a good one too.

Lee also takes the opportunity to fill in a few blanks, such as how Servalan escaped from the Liberator at the end of Terminal, but Servalan’s revelation that Don Keller was the only man she ever loved is the stand-out moment from this part of the story.

SERVALAN: Don Keller, he was my lover. I was eighteen.
TARRANT: He’s the reason you’re here.
SERVALAN: He left me. I grew up. Power became my lover. Power is like a drug. It is beautiful. Shining. I could destroy a planet by pressing a button. I loved him.

Do we believe her? She seems genuine, but we’ve seen before how Servalan is able to manipulate others with ease, so it’s possible that self preservation made her adopt the pose of a victim. That’s what Tarrant claims to believe at the end (although is he only saying this to appease Avon?) Whatever the truth, Jacqueline Pearce impresses here – which proves that given good material, the character can still be as compelling as she once was.

If Tarrant and Servalan are having an interesting time down on the planet, then so are Avon and co up on Scorpio. Vila is reduced to a drunken state (not the first time this has happened). Michael Keating does drunk acting very well, but it’s rather an obvious choice – although the mention of Cally strikes a nerve. “If I died it’d be a real joke. Who’d care? Who cared about Cally?” Orac’s acting very oddly too, telling everyone that he loves them!

Avon’s enjoying himself and so is Paul Darrow. Avon has a theory that the sand eliminates the weak and keeps the strong alive in order to maintain a healthy breeding stock. “Presumably the sand up here has compared Vila’s wits and stamina with mine and concluded that I am the dominant male. On the herd principle therefore, it decided that Vila was superfluous and it could kill him. You two, of course, would have been allowed to live”. Vila’s not dead of course, but Avon doesn’t seem terribly unhappy at the thought of a ménage à trois with Dayna and Soolin ….

A solution is eventually found and Tarrant returns to face a less than warm welcome. He’d allowed Servalan to escape, which is bad enough, but his intimacy with her disgusts Dayna (understandable since Servalan killed her father). This is the sort of theme that would have been an interesting one to develop, but unfortunately B7 wasn’t the sort of series for complex character arcs, so as the credits roll a big reset button is hit and the matter is never mentioned again.

Haunting and well-realised, Sand is a memorable story. Not quite as compelling as Sarcophagus maybe, but it’s still several cuts above the norm.

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Blakes 7 – Games

October 31, 2016March 28, 2017 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, bill lyons, blakes 7, glynis barber, jacqueline pearce, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey, stratford johns

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Avon’s hot on the trail of Feldon crystals, one of the most precious minerals in the galaxy, but it’ll come as no surprise to learn that so is Servalan. Both the Scorpio crew and Servalan end up on the mining planet Mercol 2, which is run by the duplicitous Belkov (Stratford Johns). Suspiciously low production yields and a tendency for members of the survey team to die in strange and unexplained ways are two reasons why Servalan is interested in Belkov, but he attempts to broker a deal – promising to deliver up the Scorpio crew in exchange for his life.

Games is another B7 tale which boasts a heavyweight guest star – in this case Stratford Johns. Elsewhere on this blog I’ve waxed lyrical about how good Johns always is in Softly Softly: Task Force and indeed he’s such a fine actor that he even convinces as a frog with a funny hairdo in the Doctor Who story Four To Doomsday. But he’s got his work cut out here as Belkov isn’t a character of great depth.

The basic concept of the story is sound enough though. Belkov enjoys a good double or triple cross and he’s also an expert games player, so with the aid of his computer Gambit (voiced by Rosalind Bailey) he’s able to set multiple traps for the unwary. There’s a similar vibe with Belkov/Gambit as there was between Ensor/Orac, only not as well defined. Gambit seems to lack Orac’s free will and argumentative nature, but the ending suggests that Gambit was more than the logical machine she appeared to be, although this isn’t something that’s really developed.

Servalan once again does little of note. Had Jacqueline Pearce been held back for three or four significant appearances per year then I think it would have benefited the character enormously. There’s still the odd writer – such as Tanith Lee in the upcoming Sand – who are able to do something interesting with her, but that one’s pretty much the exception now rather than the rule. Having said that, Servalan’s first appearance is memorable – striking a pose whilst masked Federation troopers (who we haven’t seen very often recently) mass behind her. But it’s odd that she never meets Avon or the others, meaning that her role could have been played by any Federation officer.

Vivienne Cozens’ direction is very sure-footed – there’s some nice film work and the odd gruesome death (one of the Federation troopers is reduced to pink dust after falling down a mine-shaft).

Vila gets to be a little more proactive than usual – rescuing Tarrant, Dayna and Gerren (David Neal). Gerren’s been brought along for the ride by Avon, who’s blackmailing him into helping them (nice chap, Avon). It’s characteristic of Avon that he secretly made contact with Gerren, meaning that the others were none the wiser until he deigned to tell them what was going on. Neal’s a good actor, although he’s hamstrung with a painfully obvious fake beard. But it’s a nothing role, since Gerren doesn’t really bring any knowledge to the table that Avon didn’t already possess.

Games is a bit of a runaround but things pick up towards the end when Avon, Vila, Tarrant and Soolin play Belkov’s endgame. The prize – should they live – will be the Feldon crystals, but first they all have to win their various challenges. Conveniently, each game is suited to one of them (Soolin excels at the sharp-shooting challenge whilst Tarrant tackles a flight simulator with ease). This section of the story reveals that the episode title has something of a double-meaning as eventually Avon realises that there won’t be any crystals at the end of their quest. “There aren’t any damned crystals. There never were any damned crystals. They’re like everything else on this ship: a game.”

With no crystals and Belkov dead after Gambit initiates a self-destruct sequence, Games is a typically downbeat S4 yarn where everybody loses. It should be a better story than it actually is, but some parts feel a little perfunctory (especially the games section at the end) which is a problem. And even Stratford Johns’ freewheeling performance can’t hide the fact that the plot is fairly pedestrian (the Scorpio crew get captured, escape, get captured again, etc).

But there are compensations – the location may be a quarry, but it’s a very nice one. And there’s a number of rather impressive explosions which are certainly more substantial than the standard BBC bangs of the time. It’s this sort of visual sheen which helps to make Games an above average S4 entry.

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Blakes 7 – Assassin

October 30, 2016October 21, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, glynis barber, jacqueline pearce, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, richard hurndall, rod beacham, stephen pacey

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Assassin opens with Vila crowing to the others about the following message he’s intercepted from Servalan. “Utilizer to Cancer, Utilizer to Cancer. Domo the ninth, five subjects.” This allows Avon to glower and mutter “Servalan!” in a way that only Paul Darrow can, leaving the others wonder what on earth the message can mean.

Luckily it doesn’t take them long to work it out. Domo is a planet, Cancer is an assassin who kills people for a great deal of money and the 9th must be a date. And there’s five of them … so it looks like Servalan has hired Cancer to bump them all off. Why she would want to go to all this trouble is a slight mystery, since Avon and the others haven’t exactly been striking many blows for freedom recently, but no matter.

Domo is a planet colonised by a gang of space pirates who capture unwary space travellers and sell them into slavery. Avon elects to pose as one such unfortunate, which gives us an opportunity to marvel at Paul Darrow’s ability to wring pathos and emotion out of even the most innocuous lines. Churlish folk might call this over-acting or simply bad acting, but I’ve always found there’s something compelling in Darrow’s S4 interpretation of Avon – a man constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Avon might start off by acting weak and feeble, but the goading he receives from Benos (Peter Atard) means that he can’t resist showing his true colours and so knocks a few of the pirates about for fun (I think it was the taunt about being skinny which pushed him over the edge). Vila, watching from a safe distance, is asked by Soolin if all had gone well. “Oh yes, wonderful. First they beat him to a pulp, then they dragged him off”. The unconvincing facial hair sported by the pirates is an early episode treat.

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Avon’s thrown in a cell with an old prisoner called Neebrox (Richard Hurndall). He tells Avon that Servalan is here and that she purchased a member of an entertainment troupe (a plot-point which will become important later on). As probably everybody knows, this appearance led to Hurndall being cast as the First Doctor in The Five Doctors. It’s easy to see why, with his long hair he does have more than a touch of Hartnell’s Doctor about him. Hurndall was always an actor of depth and dignity and his presence helps to lift the story no end. Alas, the same can’t really be said for Verlis (Betty Marsden), the slightly tipsy slavetrader in charge of the slave auction.

The auction part of the story is rather … well, it’s just rather. The notion of Avon being paraded in chains before Servalan no doubt pleased a section of the audience (and I’m sure led to numerous fan-fiction sequels) but the actuality is a little embarrassing. The various bidders look ridiculous, all clothed in fancy dress it seems (plus fake beards of course). Servalan wins the bid for Avon, telling him that he now needs to refer to her as mistress. That was a late-night spin-off show just waiting to happen.

We can now bid the slavers a fond farewell as Neebrox comes up trumps and he and Avon hot-foot it back to Scorpio. This leads us into the second (and better) part of the story as Cancer’s ship is tracked down and they get to grips with the galaxy’s finest assassin. Everything seems rather straightforward at first- they find a ship which contains Cancer (John Wyman) and a young woman called Piri (Caroline Holdaway). Piri might be a rather limp lettuce but she’s invaluable in helping Avon and Tarrant overpower Cancer. Tarrant’s fight with Cancer is a hoot.

After being rather anonymous during her first few stories, Soolin has more recently developed a sharp and cynical sense of humour, which Glynis Barber plays very well. Soolin quickly becomes irritated with the weepy Piri and gives her a well-deserved slap. Well done that woman! Tarrant is rather upset with this, but Soolin’s comeback line is rather good. “There are two classic ways of dealing with an hysterical woman. You didn’t really expect me to kiss her, did you?”

Tarrant isn’t well served by the script, turning into a rather gauche schoolboy whenever Piri’s around. And since Piri is really Cancer, that makes him look more than a little foolish. Yes, the mysterious assassin Cancer is a woman, who decided to masquerade as Piri whilst Servalan bought a slave (remember the earlier plot point) to pose as Cancer. It’s fair to say that Caroline Holdaway’s performance has come in for a little bit of stick over the years and it’s easy to see why. True, the hysterical Piri isn’t the easiest role to play, but Holdaway never really convinces as the ice-cold killer either.

But although her casting is a bit of a problem, the concluding half of the story, set aboard Cancer’s ship, is still strong – David Sullivan Proudfoot elects to keep the lighting low, thereby creating a nice sense of tension. Generally the direction is solid (this was his third and final B7 story following Traitor and Stardrive) although he’s a little too fond of Star Wars style screenwipes ….

Rod Beacham’s sole script for the series, Assassin is another story which signifies that after a shaky start series four was finding its feet. This was Beacham’s debut as a television script-writer (he’d previously been an actor) and he would go on to contribute to a number of series, most notably Bergerac, before his death in 2014. For a television debut, it’s a very solid effort.

On the negative side, Assassin would have worked better without Servalan, who doesn’t do a great deal (mind you, there are quite a few stories we can say that about) but thanks to a nice guest turn from Hurndall and some sharply scripted lines for Glynis Barber it’s still a good ‘un.

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Blakes 7 – Headhunter

October 29, 2016October 29, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1970's BBC, blakes 7, glynis barber, josette simon, lynda bellingham, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, roger parkes, stephen pacey

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The previous episode, Animals, established the concept that Avon is keen to recruit a whole group of experts to join him in his fight against the Federation. Alas, Justin didn’t make it the end of that episode, I wonder if top cybernetics expert Muller (John Westbrook) will fare any better here? Gosh, that’s a tough one …..

Tarrant and Vila have drawn the short straw of escorting Muller back to base. Tarrant teleports down to the rendezvous, but it seems obvious that Muller’s colleagues don’t want him to leave (there’s a dead body under the table, although Muller himself seems unharmed). Tarrant takes a cursory look at the body but seems to miss the obvious point, mentioned later, that the corpse is missing its head. You’d have thought a small thing like that would be easy to spot, but clearly not.

Muller is a man of peace, something confirmed by Vena (Lynda Bellingham) who’s back at base with Avon, Dayna and Soolin. But when they teleport back to Scorpio, Muller goes crazy and attempts to bear-hug Tarrant to death. Vila gives Muller a tap on the shoulder with a monkey-wrench which apparently kills him. Muller’s brief homicidal interlude is one of several (I assume unintentional) comic highlights.

Muller went mad after Tarrant brought back a box from Muller’s workshop. After we learn of the headless corpse it seems obvious that the box contains Muller’s head, but not so, the truth is even stranger. Muller’s android killed his creator, cut off his head and put it on his own, android, body. Quite why the apparently peace-loving Muller would have created a homicidal android (who incidentally wants to enslave all human life) is anyone’s guess. But it explains the faux-Muller’s strange dress sense and robotic delivery.

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Poor Lynda Bellingham isn’t very well served by the script. Vena spends most of her time moping that her loved one is dead, only to briefly spring back into life when it appears that he isn’t. But her joy is short-lived as the android with Muller’s head then bear-hugs her to death. It’s not a very dignified way to go I’m afraid.

So far, so strange, but the best is yet to come. During the last fifteen minutes or so, Muller’s head drops off – meaning that we’re able to enjoy the vision of a headless android stomping around Xenon base, threatening to kill everyone. There can be few funnier sights in all of B7‘s 52 episodes.

I also have to mention the wonderfully expressive hand acting from Nick Joseph who plays the headless android. When you don’t have a head it’s hard to get your point across, so Joseph elects to waggle his hands and arms in a very emphatic fashion. Another great comedy moment.

Muller was a protégé of Ensor, which means that Muller’s android is keen to join up with Orac in order to fulfil his dream of universal domination. Quite how one android hopes to dominate all life is another of those small plot points which never gets adequately explained, but it does give Peter Tuddenham the chance to do a little more with Orac for once. And indeed also with Slave, who subtly changes from servile to surly as the mysterious effect of Muller’s android takes hold.

Since Headhunter only features the regulars plus Muller and Vena, everyone – even the rather underwritten-to-date Soolin – gets a chance for a decent share of the action. Paul Darrow elects to intone his lines with the sort of distracted, far-away delivery which would be his trademark style during S4. He has the odd killer line (“Tarrant, what have you got up there apart from yourself, a half-wit and a corpse?”) but the best exchange is saved until the end. After a big bang organised by Tarrant, Avon asks him what’s happened to the android.

TARRANT: Gone to the great cyberneticist in the sky.
AVON: You fool! It’s superstitious half-wits like you who hold back every advance we make.
ORAC: And arrogance, Avon, like yours and Muller’s which threaten to destroy …
AVON: Shut up!
ORAC: Yes, master!

After a less-than-serious romp, this small moment once again highlights how detached Avon has become from reality. The android, if controllable, would have been an asset, but everyone except Avon is clearly able to see that it would have been suicidal to keep it operational. Yet another example of Avon’s lack of judgement.

Whatever else Headhunter is, it certainly isn’t dull. The third and final of Roger Parkes’ scripts for the series, it falls somewhere between his other two. It’s not as good as Children of Auron, nor is it as crazy as Voice from the Past (although it’s close). But whatever its faults, the loopy concept never fails to raise a smile.

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Blakes 7 – Animals

October 28, 2016October 16, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's allan prior, BBC, blakes 7, glynis barber, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter byrne, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey

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Long regarded as one of the worst episodes of Blakes 7, I have to confess that my latest rewatch of Animals has found me in a generous mood. But when you start with low expectations (it’s an Allan Prior script for goodness sake) the only way is up …

Now that Avon’s gang has a base there’s no need for all of them to venture out on each adventure, which explains why only Tarrant and Dayna are aboard Scorpio as the episode opens. The downside to this is that we don’t see Avon, Vila and Soolin until we’re about twenty minutes in, but the opening part of the story is undeniably a good opportunity for Josette Simon, who gets a series of lengthy two-handed scenes opposite Peter Byrne (playing Justin).

We’re told that Justin was one of a number of specialist tutors who helped to educate the younger Dayna. Given that Dayna’s father was a rabid isolationist, this is rather hard to understand – the later revelation that Justin was working for the Federation at the same time is another slight head scratcher.

If Animals is remembered for anything then it’s for the animals. Mary Ridge makes no effort to hold them back for a shock reveal (we first see them head-on when the episode is only two minutes old). I guess that when you’ve got a group of actors standing around in such ridiculous costumes you might as well just bite the bullet and show them in all their, well, glory.

Rather like the Space Rats in the previous story, the animals are a major problem. If their design had been a little less comic then I’ve no doubt the story would have a slightly higher reputation. It’s also interesting that there’s another obvious parallel with Stardrive – both stories feature an ex-Federation scientist working in secret on an obscure planet. A pity Chris Boucher couldn’t have jumbled the running order up a little ….

With Tarrant limping back to base in the damaged Scorpio and the others yet to make an appearance, it’s Dayna who has to carry the narrative onwards. Her relationship with Justin is an odd one which has attracted a certain amount of debate over the years. There’s off-hand comments on both sides to suggest that they previously had a bond which went beyond teacher/pupil boundaries, which given Dayna’s age at the time strays into slightly uncomfortable territory. Or was it unrequited love back then, which is now suddenly flourishing? Either possibility is valid.

Before teleporting Dayna down, Tarrant offhandedly refers to Justin as a mad scientist. Dayna shrugs this off, but his genetic experimentations on the animals certainly seems to cross the bounds of acceptable behaviour. She asks him why.

DAYNA: Look, what was the object of the work? It must have had some object, some war object if the Federation backed it and built this place.
JUSTIN: The war object was to create a species, not necessarily human, that could go into areas heavy with radioactivity and act as shock troops. The federation had suffered losses of up to sixty percent front line troops. Now just think what a few squads of radiation proof space commandos could do.
DAYNA: Oh, I’m glad you never succeeded. It was a horrible idea.
JUSTIN: No, it was justified by the times.

It’s all slightly heavy-handed, but it taps into similar debates regarding animal experimentations which have raged for decades. Dayna’s reaction is interesting – she starts off appalled but slowly changes her mind. Is this because of her lingering respect and love for Justin or does she see a way that his research could be used by Avon and the others in their fight against the Federation?

Compared to Doctor Plaxton in Stardrive, who barely had a handful of lines to outline her worldview and motivations, Justin is generously given several lengthy speeches in order to present his case. He says that his experiments on both humans and animals (which included painful brain grafts) now distress him, but he has to carry on. “I’m trying in a way to make sense of it all, trying to get something good out of it all. Don’t you see that? If this discovery simply goes for war purposes, to kill, then it’s all been in vain.” His desire to continue the work so that eventually he can achieve something good out of the pain, misery and suffering he’s caused is logical, even if we don’t necessarily have to agree with it.

Rather unexpectedly, Servalan’s lurking about and becomes interested in Justin’s research. She interrogates the only man left alive who knows about it – Ardus (Kevin Stoney). You have to feel a little sorry for Stoney, he appeared in two different episodes of B7 playing rather small and nondescript parts. And both were scripted by Allan Prior too, which seems a tad unfair! Although it should come as no surprise to learn that Stoney’s cameo here is played very well – his character may exist simply as an infodumper, but Stoney was too good an actor not to impress even with a very minor role.

Servalan’s (or Sleer’s I should say) ship is piloted by a female crew who apper to be Mutoids – although if so they’ve undergone something of a glam makeover. She also has several male subornates on hand – who are very much the type we’ve seen so often in the series before. But there’s no point in taking too much interest in them as I’m sure they’ll have been replaced next time with almost identical characters.

Servalan’s manipulation of Dayna – first torture and then brainwashing to hate Justin – is ruthless even by her standards. Josette Simon does seems a little stiff when she’s playing brainwashed Dayna, but luckily these scenes don’t go on to long. The ending is a typically bleak late period B7 one – everybody loses, but Dayna loses the most. Possibly Josette Simon might look back on her hysterical sobbing with a tinge of regret (that is if she ever rewatches her B7 episodes – which I guess is rather unlikely) but apart from her over emoting and the silly looking animals, this one stands up pretty well.

Peter Byrne, who’d played Andy Crawford on Dixon of Dock Green for twenty years, makes the most of a very substantial guest role, whilst the peerless Kevin Stoney livens up proceedings for a few minutes. All in all this was pleasantly entertaining.

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Blakes 7 – Stardrive

October 27, 2016October 16, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, glynis barber, jim follett, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey

Stardrive opens with Avon deciding to tangle with an asteroid. He tells the others that if they want to keep Scorpio operational “we have to visit Altern Five in order to recover selsium ore to make fuel crystals. Hitching a ride into the Altern system on that asteroid is the only way we’re going to get past any Federation patrols and within teleport distance of Altern Five.”

Everybody else considers this to be a very bad idea indeed, but as usual Avon gets his way. It’s a sign of things to come that Avon’s proven to be badly wrong, since all that happens (via some fairly shaky modelwork) is that Scorpio gets badly holed and so ends up in an even worse state than before. The first ten minutes or so are somewhat superfluous to the rest of the story, partly existing to demonstrate two interesting character points. The first, as we’ve seen, is that Avon is liable to shocking lapses in judgement and the second concerns Vila’s skills at manipulation.

After the ship is holed and all looks bleak, it’s not surprising to see Vila staggering about with a flask of alcohol, clearly more than a little merry. In his drunken state he blurts out a possible solution, which makes perfect sense to Avon, who rushes off with Tarrant to apply the fix. But Vila wasn’t drunk at all, he was simply pretending, the crafty devil!

The most important reason for this section of this story is that it allows a stranded Scorpio to observe three Federation pursuit ships apparently blowing up. But they didn’t blow up, they were destroyed by a small craft travelling at standard by twelve – which is impossible.

Very quickly Avon realises that Doctor Plaxton (Barbara Shelley), formally head of the Federation Space Drive Research Centre, must have developed a new Stardrive. Oh and she’s teamed up with the Space Rats who, according to Vila, “live for is sex and violence, booze and speed. And the fellows are just as bad.”

It’s impossible to ignore, the Space Rats look absolutely ridiculous even by Blakes 7 standards. Goodness knows who thought their look was a good one, but it rather negates the little menace they possessed. Apart from their dress sense their characters aren’t terribly well drawn either. This possibly isn’t surprising since they’re supposed to be hedonistic speed-freaks who love to live life on the edge, but at least their leader, Atlan (Damian Thomas), is a little different.

He’s not a Space Rat, but he dresses like one and the others accept him as their leader because he’s able to give them what they want (the opportunity to pilot fast spacecraft and kill people I guess). There was potential for Atlan to have a more interesting character motivation than the others but this opportunity is rather frittered away. Thomas’ rather mannered performance doesn’t help either.

Doctor Plaxton is a rather pallidly drawn character too. We learn that she’s no longer a member of the Federation, hence the reason why she’s teamed up with the Space Rats (they scour the galaxy providing her with the raw materials she needs in order to continue her work). But it’s never made clear why she wants to complete the Stardrive. The scientific challenge or because she plans to sell it and make a fortune? Your guess is as good as mine.

Avon sends Dayna and Vila down to investigate, but it quickly becomes obvious that they’re simply diversions – the others land Scorpio and launch a second front. Avon’s callous disregard for the others couldn’t be clearer – he’s hoping and expecting that Dayna and Vila will get captured, which will make his job of pinching the Stardrive a little easier. And if they get killed, well that’s just tough luck.

Part of the problem with this part of the story is that whilst Dayna and Vila are already inside the base, tangling with the Space Rats, the others – Avon, Tarrant and Soolin – are some distance away. And the three of them seem to move so very slowly, giving proceedings a rather lethargic air. The scenery – a typical quarry in winter – isn’t terribly appealing either.

Vila’s done his best to big up the Space Rats but frankly they’re rubbish and Avon’s easily able to nab the Stardrive and make his escape. Indeed, if they hadn’t been there at all then the story wouldn’t really have suffered (and maybe might be a little better regarded).

Doctor Plaxton’s returned to Scorpio with the others, although it’ll come as no shock to learn that she doesn’t last very long. Just as there was no need for Ensor to stick around once Blake and the others had Orac, so we can wave goodbye to Doctor Plaxton now that the Stardrive is fitted. But the manner of her death is another shocking example of Avon’s single-mindedness.

Doctor Plaxton volunteers to fix the Stardrive into place and Avon elects to fire the motors as soon as the final connection is in place, meaning that the unfortunate Doctor Plaxton ends up rather dead. Avon does say that she’s dead either way, although it isn’t quite clear what he means by this. After it’s over, Avon’s already put her out of his mind, saying “who?” when Dayna mentions her name.

A lack of characterisation (the Space Rats and Doctor Plaxton) means that Stardrive is rather disposable. Better motivations might have made this a more compelling story, but as it is it’s just another episode where the regulars mooch about in a quarry.

Blakes 7 – Traitor

October 26, 2016September 2, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, glynis barber, jacqueline pearce, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, robert holmes, stephen pacey

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The Federation is beginning to expand agaim and Avon has decided that the planet Helotrix holds the key. The native species, the Helots, are once again Federation members after a long period of resistance and Avon is keen to find out why their resolve crumbled so quickly. Dayna and Tarrant teleport down to the surface but quickly lose contact with Scorpio. The arrival of Federation Commissioner Sleer further complicates matters ….

Traitor is the most anonymous of Robert Holmes’ four Blakes 7 scripts. Lacking the flamboyant characterisation of Gambit and Orbit or the rock-solid narrative of Killer, it’s simply there – solid enough, but a little uninspiring and never likely to be anybody’s favourite. There’s some nice dialogue, but maybe Holmes felt straightjacketed by the various story elements he was required to include (the pacification drug Pylene-50 which becomes a running theme and Commissioner Sleer, who turns out to be, shock horror, Servalan). It’s also a pity that his original title – A Land Fit For Helots – was rejected in favour of the descriptive, but dull, Traitor.

Avon’s transformation into Blake pretty much starts here – he suddenly decides to take the fight to the Federation. After spending the first two series sniping at Blake from the sidelines for exactly this sort of gung-ho approach, it’s an unexpected move, although there are several possible reasons. The boring real-life possibility is that since series three had been rather aimless, reintroducing the Federation as a tangible enemy helps to give the show a more cohesive feel.

There’s a more interesting fictional possibility though – Avon’s character is slowly being subsumed by Blake’s, meaning that he’s turning into a carbon-copy of his former colleague. To support this theory, the final episode – Blake – provides us with plenty of evidence that Avon’s obsession with Blake is colouring his actions. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him ….

There’s intrigue aplenty on Helotrix, although the downside of this is that the regulars, especially Avon and Vila, are rather sidelined. Dayna and Tarrant have more to do, but Traitor is really concerned with the various squabbling factions who are jockeying for position on the planet’s surface.

Colonel Quute (Christopher Neame) and the General (Nick Brimble) are in charge of Federation operations. They’re an odd couple, to put it mildly. It’s easy to tell that Quute is a baddy – he’s got a scar down his face and an eyepatch (two dead giveaways). The General doesn’t have any such facial embellishments, but he is caked in make-up. Both also have uniforms which sport the most amazing shoulder pads.

This may all sound fairly unpromising, but Neame and Brimble are good enough actors to be able to transcend the fact they look faintly ridiculous. They’re also aided by Holmes’ script, which isn’t content to paint them as simply another couple of faceless Federation killers. The General (he doesn’t seem to have a name) is a military bore, forever droning on about battles from the past, meaning that Quute is forced to feign politeness on a regular basis.

GENERAL: Do you remember the Fletch expedition of twenty-nine?
QUUTE: No, I don’t think I do, sir.
GENERAL: Fletch used gas, against the Wazis. Hmm. Complete massacre, bodies everywhere. Took dinner with his officers that night, suddenly the Wazis came over the wall, butchered the whole expedition. Seems the Wazis are gill breathers – they can lie dormant for days.
QUUTE: Ahh, that’s very interesting sir.

Just before this, the General mentions that the best way to deal with these rebel types is with a dose of the cold steel. It’s very hard not to think of Corporal Jones ….

Star Major Hunda (Robert Morris) leads the rebels, but frankly he’s rather dull (as are his grimy cohorts). By a staggering coincidence, Tarrant and Dayna teleport down right beside him – which means that he’s able to fill them both in on the plot. Handy that.

Forbus is a cut-price Davros. He looks a little like Peter Sellers (or possibly Lewis Fiander in the Doctor Who story Nightmare of Eden) and he’s there to explain to Dayna and Tarrant all about Pylene-50. His appearance suggests that the budget was running rather low, although there are also signs of penny pinching elsewhere. The Federation HQ features some very familiar-looking panels (if you watch far more Doctor Who and Blakes 7 than is healthy that is) as well as flashing disco lights which I assume are supposed to represent power lines. The unconvincing studio grassy knoll is at least lit quite low and covered in mist.

The return of Servalan (or Sleer as she’s now calling herself) is odd.

A few lines of dialogue confirm that the Federation is now under new management and those loyal to Servalan have been executed. This makes the idea that she’d have assumed another identity just about feasible, but it’s strange that she’s made no effort to disguise herself, meaning that everywhere she goes there’s the risk she’ll bump into someone who’ll recognise her. She was the President for goodness sake, it’s a safe bet that most people would have a fair idea what she looked like.

This happens here, as the new puppet leader Practor knew Servalan of old, which means he has to die. For some reason the story attempts to keep her presence a secret until the end, but earlier on her voice (albeit distorted) was heard, so I doubt many were shocked when she did turn up in the flesh.

Although the return of Servalan is a non-surprise and the rebels aren’t terribly interesting, thanks to Holmes’ dialogue for Quute and the General plus the location filming (I’m a sucker for a nice quarry) this isn’t too bad at all.

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Blakes 7 – Power

October 25, 2016October 21, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, ben stead, blakes 7, glynis barber, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey

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Power opens with Avon being chased by some hairy tribesmen. I don’t know about you, but whenever I see hairy tribesman in Blakes 7 my heart sinks a little – it suggests that the story is going to be a little disappointing. And since this one was written by Ben Stead it’ll be no surprise to learn that we’re in for fifty minutes of dodgy sexual politics. But it’s by no means all bad as Stead, for once, doesn’t always go down the most obvious routes.

Gunn-Sar (Dicken Ashworth) is the leader of the Hommicks and he wastes no time in introducing himself to Avon. “I am Gunn-Sar, chief of the Hommiks. I rule by right of challenge, which means I’m the biggest, toughest, meanest son of a Seska on this planet.” It doesn’t take long before you realise that there’s an air of mockery about Gunn-Sar. He knows it and the others know it too. Ashworth is clearly having fun with a role that’s a little bit more interesting than the male chauvinist leader of a hairy tribe that it first appeared to be.

Apart from Nina (Jenny Oulton), the Hommicks appear to be a totally male enclave whilst the Seskas are entirely female. We therefore see a battle of the sexes play out which initially paints the Hommicks as oppressors and the Seskas as victims, although the truth is a little more complicated. The revelation that the Seskas are captured and operated on in order to make them compliant breeding stock is somewhat horrific (as is the fact that any girls born are left out in the wilderness to die).

This is odd though. If most of the girls are killed immediately after they’re born it stands to reason that eventually the Hommicks will die out. We later learn that Nina is Gunn-Sar’s woman, as it were. So what about the rest of the Hommicks, don’t they want a little female company as well? There’s more than one answer to this, but I don’t think we’ll go any further down that road ….

We seen an operation being carried out – by Nina – which poses another question. The Hommicks appear to be primitive, but they’re surrounded by advanced technology. This becomes a little clearer after Avon runs one of Gunn-Sar’s men, Cato (Paul Ridley), to ground in a computerised observation room. Avon realises that Gunn-Sar is ignorant about many things, including this room.

CATO: He thinks we have scouts posted everywhere and runners.
AVON :Impractical. So why do you keep up the illusion?
CATO: For the Hommicks, the people. If they see this they’ll want more. Hydroponic food, machines, neutron blasters.
AVON: And you don’t have them to give. Because your civilization died a long time ago.
CATO: Yes.
AVON: What killed it?
CATO: A war. Everything was lost. Industry, people. Afterwards, the Council of Survivors decreed that we should start again, from the very beginning. Wooden tools, flint arrowheads, the wheel. Ten thousand years advancement destroyed in a day.

There’s something quite pleasing about this. An apparently primitive society being subtly guided with the help of advanced technology.

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Pella (Juliet Hammond-Hill) is the foregrounded Seska. All the Seskas have mental and physical powers well in advance of the average woman, but of course she’s no match for Avon. In a scene that I’m sure had Paul Darrow’s many female admirers swooning, Avon subdues Pella and then explains why he’s better than her. “You see, Pella, it’s your strength, and however you use it, a man’s will always be greater. Unfair, perhaps, but biologically unavoidable.” Score one for the male sex then. But Pella later knocks him out by levitating a computer keyboard (this is probably the funniest thing in the episode, mainly for Darrow’s expression and the way he seems to plummet to the floor in slow-motion) so I think we’ll have to call it a draw.

Dayna later challenges Gunn-Sar to a duel (Avon also did this earlier but was unsuccessful). Dayna fares better, although she did have the help of the Seskas , even if she didn’t realise it. By the laws of the Hommicks, Dayna is now leader, although unsurprisingly she doesn’t stay for the coronation. This raises another question – Dayna has effectively plunged the Hommicks into chaos (the revelation that only a handful of Seskas are still alive is another problem) so what will happen to them now? Nina suggests they should leave, but do they have a ship? Avon and the others certainly don’t stick around to see if they need a helping hand, which is a little unfriendly.

Pella turns out to be a wrong ‘un, which I’m sure proves something, although I’m not entirely sure what. Avon sums up what we’ve learnt. “You can have war between races, war between cultures, war between planets. But once you have war between the sexes, you eventually run out of people.” A battle of the sexes script from Ben Stead could have turned out a lot worse, so I guess we have to be thankful for what we got. Power isn’t perfect but it clips along at a good pace, even if it doesn’t make a great deal of sense.

Right at the end Soolin pops up from nowhere, offering to join the crew. This is the sort of scene that really should have come at the end of Rescue as it does make you wonder what she’s been doing for the duration of this episode. No matter, we’ve got a new crewmember and we’ve got teleport facilities (which was sort of what the story was about) so things are looking up.

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Blakes 7 – Rescue

October 24, 2016October 9, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's blakes 7, chris boucher, glynis barber, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey

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Although series four has its critics, I’ve always been rather fond of it. For me it’s similar to the previous three series, since it has about the same mixture of good, bad and indifferent stories. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve given them a spin so will I now be less or more forgiving? Let’s find out ….

I’m not terribly impressed with the new title sequence. The planetscape is nicely shot but there’s a distinct lack of menace. The previous series titles had an element of pursuit and danger, here we just see a ship out for a joyride. And the new logo appears in a rather muted, half-hearted way (very different from the bold appearance of the previous one). Oh well, let’s press on.

Avon and the others are still marooned on Terminal. The weather’s taken a decided turn for the worse, which is good news in one way as the snow makes the location look a little more interesting. Paul Darrow’s snugly protected against the cold, but Josette Simon isn’t so fortunate. When they both fling themselves to the ground (after a booby-trapped spaceship left by Servalan explodes) I can’t help but feel that the poor girl’s going to catch her death of cold. Clearly coats for ladies were short supply on Terminal.

Avon’s worried that Servalan might have also booby-trapped the living quarters where the others are. You may wonder why she just didn’t kill them all before she left, rather than leave elaborate traps scattered around the planet, but that would have been far too straightforward. True to her character, Danya’s keen to rush off and warn the others whilst Avon, equally true to type, is more cautious. Dayna does nip off and is menaced by a thing which actually looks rather good. Avon deals with it, forcing Dayna to admit that Avon was right once again.

Alas, they don’t all make it out alive as Cally is killed in the explosion (it’s an off-screen death as Jan Chapell declined to return for series four). Her final word is “Blake!” rather than “Avon!” which is interesting. Vila has the chance to be a hero by rescuing Tarrant although Tarrant doesn’t seem to be terribly grateful (he later hits the bottle and is found by Avon lying face down in the snow). Quite why Tarrant has gone to pieces isn’t obvious.

With no ship or escape route, what they need is someone to turn up and rescue them. And fancy that, just a few minutes later Dorian (Geoffrey Burridge) and his ship Scorpio turns up. Dorian claims to be a humble salvage merchant, but it’s plain there’s more to him that meets the eye. Avon likes the look of his ship and decides to commander it. It has a computer voiced by Peter Tuddenham (although Slave is no Zen that’s for sure) and there’s a space that would be just right for a teleport area. Of course the fact we haven’t seen any other ship apart from the Liberator with teleport facilities would make it highly unlikely that they’d be able to lash up something from scratch. That would just be silly, wouldn’t it?

Danya’s impressed with Dorian’s gun collection. “Each of these is a different mode. You clip them into the basic handgun and you’ve got a weapon for every occasion. Laser, plasma bullet, percussion shell, micro grenade, stun, drug. They’re all here. I worked for nearly a year on a gun like this. I never did get it right.” They do look a little lightweight though, much more plastic than steel.

We then meet Dorian’s associate, the feisty gunslinger Soolin (Glynis Barber) and after we’ve finished admiring her we can then admire the rather nice modelwork as Scorpio docks at Xenon base. The destruction of the Liberator meant they could no longer use the same old stock shots that had been seen multiple times over the past three years. So instead there’s some new footage which will become just as familiar ….

Once on Xenon base, Avon takes command. He makes it plain that he’ll kill Dorian if he doesn’t do exactly what he says. Danya succinctly sums him up. “Beneath that cold exterior, beats a heart of pure stone.”

Things then get slightly odd as Dorian meets something menacing in the depths of the planet. Burridge has the chance to indulge in some ripe over-acting whilst the thing writhes about in the dark. I’ve a feeling that if we see it with the lights up it’s not going to look terribly impressive.

Those with a working knowledge of late 19th century literature should be able to work out exactly what Dorian’s secret is. It’s a nice touch which serves as a decent in-joke for those who are aware of the original source material but the story still makes sense if you don’t. Once Avon discovers Dorian’s secret, it’s plainly not a coincidence that he begins to speak as if he’s just stepped out of the pages of a Victorian melodrama.

DORIAN: You think I’m insane, don’t you?
AVON: It had occurred to me.
DORIAN: The room exists, Avon. And since I found it I haven’t aged one day. It cleanses me of all the corruptions of time and appetite.
AVON: Appetite?
DORIAN: I can do anything, Avon.
AVON: Most madmen can.
DORIAN: I can indulge any taste, any sensation, any vice I wish and the room …
AVON: Cleanses you.

Thanks to Geoffrey Burridge’s unhinged performance, Rescue is good fun, although a little disposable. Given the small number of speaking parts it’s a little odd that Soolin didn’t have more to do – since she’s going to be a new member of the gang (although that’s not evident by the end of the story) you’d have expected her to be a little more foregrounded in the narrative.

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Blakes 7 – Terminal

February 12, 2016February 12, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, gareth thomas, jacqueline pearce, jan chappell, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey, terry nation

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As is probably well known, Terminal was due to be B7‘s final episode, but the show was granted a last-minute reprieve by BBC bigwigs who had apparently enjoyed the series so much they asked for an announcement to be broadcast over Terminal‘s end credits stating that the series would return. Which came as something of a surprise to the cast and crew.

Having said that, it’s easy to see that Terry Nation crafted the script in such a way as to make a fourth series eminently possible. Terminal ends with Blake and Servalan apparently dead (although both make a miraculous comeback in S4) and the Liberator destroyed (which doesn’t) but everyone else is alive and kicking. But even if it’s not the final end it’s still an ominous, unsettling installment. Paul Darrow’s performance (as well as the very brief return of Gareth Thomas) are the undoubted highlights and help to paper over some of the more glaring plot holes.

The main talking point has to be Avon’s bizarre behaviour. Terminal seems to look ahead to the increasingly paranoid man who’d lead the others through a number of misadventures during series four, losing just as often as winning. If Rumours of Death started to chip away at his air of invulnerability (by revealing that he was never as close to defrauding the Federation’s banking systems as he’d previously thought) then Terminal is another nail in his coffin. His obsession to find Blake has several consequences, the most serious is that it loses them the Liberator. Enroute to their destination Zen detects unidentified matter in their path – he recommends going around it (“the consensus of computer systems favour a course deviation to avoid contact. In this environment, it is prudent to treat any unexplained phenomenon as potentially dangerous”) but Avon is adamant – there will be no course deviation.

Why? It wouldn’t have cost them a great deal of time and would have been the prudent course of action. And Avon’s always been prudent – never willing to risk either his life or that of the Liberator unnecessarily. It’s tempting to think that Servalan’s operating a similar mental suggestion on Avon that we saw Blake suffer from in Voice from the Past. That would also explain his burning desire to find Blake, which also seems very out of character – he spent two years trying to get rid of him!

There is the possibility that Avon is motivated to find Blake purely because of the get-rich plan that Blake was offering, although that doesn’t really hold water either – surely Avon has the ability to create his own get-rich plans if that’s what he wants? And the Liberator is supposed to carry untold wealth anyway.

But for all the slight niggles about his motivation, the brief meeting between Avon and Blake is still magical. It may last only a minute or so but it’s a reminder that as good as Darrow’s been during S3, he’s not had an equal – like Thomas – to measure himself against.

BLAKE: Well, you certainly took your time finding me.
AVON: There didn’t seem to be any hurry. Anyway, I always said I could manage very well without you.
BLAKE: It must have been so dull having no one to argue with.
AVON: Well, now, there were times when your simple-minded certainties might have been refreshing.
BLAKE: Careful, Avon. Your sentiment is showing.

Before teleporting down to the planet (an artificial satellite called Terminal) Avon makes it quite clear to the others exactly how he feels about them. “I don’t need any of you. I needed the Liberator to bring me here so I had no choice but to bring you along, but this is as far as you go. I don’t want you with me. I don’t want you following me. Understand this: anyone who does follow me, I’ll kill them.” Not very friendly.

The obvious irony is that he does need them and despite the way he’s treated them they won’t just abandon him. It’s all done in a typically understated way – no loud declarations of friendship and loyalty – but it’s there all the same. Later, Avon explains to Servalan that he decided to do everything on his own as he felt it could be a trap – although she wonders if it had more to do with his desire not to share Blake’s mysterious treasure with them. He smiles, but doesn’t deny it (this is a nice moment, as it offers several different motivations for Avon’s actions).

Of course it all turned out to be a dream – Blake was never on Terminal and his image was created in Avon’s mind by some clever people working for Servalan. This is yet another of her hopelessly over complicated schemes to capture the Liberator (in one way it’s a good thing this’ll be the last time she’ll have to do this).

If Servalan’s once again rather surplus to requirements, there’s two moments when she earns her money. The first is when she tells Avon that Blake’s dead. She appears to be quite emotional – was this Pearce’s choice or as scripted, I wonder? And was it meant to imply Servalan’s sorrow at the death of a worthy enemy or (even though this seems unlikely) was she emphasising with the fact that the news would have upset Avon?

No prizes for guessing that the second is “Maximum Power!” as she finally gets command of the Liberator. But by now it’s a very sick ship as the cloud of unidentified matter has caused irreparable damage . It’s more than a little odd that neither Servalan or her underlings twig that something’s wrong – the whole ship’s covered with big gloopy blotches for goodness sake!

Her apparent death is an interesting moment – I wonder if they ever intended to keep her dead when S4 was being mooted. Probably not, as she was such a powerful character, but her overuse during S3 had been a problem and a fresh adversary could have been what the series needed.

Is it wrong that I find the death of Zen to be more upsetting than the death of Gan? Zen’s final words (“I have failed you. I am sorry”) always raises a sniffle and the slow disintegration of the Liberator is also mildly upsetting.

No story is ever perfect and the links (small men in monkey suits) help to keep this proud record going. But apart from them, and a bit of a mid-episode sag, there’s not much wrong with Terminal (if you can accept Avon’s odd behaviour).

As they watch the Liberator disintegrate, Avon and the others face an uncertain future ….

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Blakes 7 – Death-Watch

February 11, 2016February 11, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, chris boucher, jacqueline pearce, jan chappell, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey

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Anybody watching Death-Watch for the first time would probably wonder why Tarrant’s aboard the United Planets passenger liner Teal Star and why he’s wearing a very bad wig. But this isn’t Del Tarrant, it’s his older brother Deeta (who could be Del’s twin). Exactly how they can be so alike when Deeta’s several years older is anyone’s guess – but it’s the future, so things are obviously different there.

The opening moments contain quite a substantial info dump – we’re told about Blood Feuds and an outbreak of war between the Vandor Confederacy and the United Planets of Teal – but this helps to quickly set the parameters of the episode, as does Deeta’s skill with a gun. He’s First Champion of the United Planets of Teal, which makes him a valid target now that Vandor and Teal have declared war. Deeta quickly deals with one assassin (whenever you see Stuart Fell you know there’s going to be some action) and then takes out another – Karla (Katherine Iddon). Both these swift attacks help to emphasise how skilled a killer he is.

How does the Liberator crew get involved? In a slightly contrived way, but it just about works. Vila hears about the war between Teal and Vandor and he’s instantly excited (“break out the booze, girls. It’s fiesta time”). It takes Tarrant to fill in some of the blanks. Whenever Teal and Vandor declare war they both pick a champion to stand as a surrogate for their armies. These two men meet in single combat to decide which side wins and which loses. Cally’s not impressed, although Tarrant does his best to convince her. “Look, two men fight for the honor of independent planetary systems of maybe twenty million people each. It’s hardly crude.”

According to Vila this means substantial festivities on the planet where the combat ground is situated. But it shouldn’t come as any surprise to learn that B7‘s budget wouldn’t run to this – so no sooner do Vila and the others teleport down then they teleport back up, with Vila complaining that everything’s closed! It’s possible that this wasn’t just budget-related though, as there are some sly satirical digs peppered throughout Chris Boucher’s script. As the Liberator crew watch the viscast on the flight deck, there’s a suitably portentous voice-over (which even mentions “space, the final frontier”). The V-O serves two purposes – it helps to explain exactly what will happen, but once it finishes we’re given a peep behind the scenes as a somewhat camp director flatters the V-O man that his speech “was your usual delicate mixture of enthusiasm and dignified cliche.”

Servalan’s about, and acting as a neutral arbiter. She doesn’t really do much though and this is definitely one story where she could have been excised without too much trouble. However she does share one classic scene with Avon – where you could cut the sexual tension with a cricket stump. Avon’s not got the most flattering costume – it’s the bulky shoulder pads which are the most distracting part – but he still manages to snarl and grab another snog from Servalan with aplomb.

Once he’s done that, he too heads back to the Liberator and settles down with the others to watch the action. Rather charmingly they’ve got a decent selection of drinks and snacks to enjoy whilst they tune in to see Tarrant’s brother fight to the death.

Although it’s fair to say that there’s nothing too original about any part of Boucher’s script, it’s interesting that some of the concepts (which would have been science fiction then) are closer to reality now. Everybody has the option to feel exactly what one of the two champions feels, via the sensor net. Deeta’s second, Max (Stewart Bevan) explains. “Both men have had microsensors implanted in the brain. These are connected to a conductive mesh which is actually etched into the bone of the skull. When this mesh gets charged up it becomes a sort of transmitter. You put it on your forehead. It’s activated through the optic nerves. Close your eyes and it feeds the signal directly into the brain, open them and it cuts out. You can see what Deeta sees and feel a lot of what he feels, physically and emotionally.” Our Virtual Reality isn’t quite there yet, but maybe one day ….

Once Deeta and Vinni (Mark Elliott) enter the killing ground, the camera often acts as their “eyes” allowing us to view the area as they would see it. In this way it anticipated generations of first-person shooter computer games. This choice of shot is used most effectively just after Vinni has fatally wounded Deeta – we see Vinni stand over the stricken Deeta and watch as he aims his gun directly at his opponent (i.e. the camera) to deliver the killing blow.

Whilst Deeta was hardly given any screentime to be developed as a rounded character, there were a few nice touches – such as the fact that he felt fear (so he wasn’t simply a mindless killer). Stephen Pacey does do a good job to portray his pain at his brother’s death, although as is the way with B7 there’s no time to reflect – unfinished business has to be attended to.

Vinni’s an android and looks to be Servalan’s handiwork, She has plenty of incentive for ensuring that Vandor and Teal go to war for real (the Federation would be handily placed to pick up the pieces and subdue the survivors). Under the rules of Blood Feud Tarrant is able to challenge Vini and it’s probably not too hard to guess what happens next.

Most memorable part of the episode must be the silver combat suits that both Deeta and Vinni wear. Remember this was 1980 not 1973, so quite why costume designer Nicholas Rocker decided to create something that Alvin Stardust could have worn is anyone’s guess. Wembley Exhibition Halls and Southhall Gasworks make an excellent venue for the Deeta/Vinni battle (and should be familiar from numerous other television shows of the time). I’d forgotten that Stewart Bevan was in this one, but then he wasn’t talking about mushrooms and didn’t have a Welsh accent, so that’s fair enough.

Death-Watch is a good opportunity for Stephen Pacey and it’s a decent sci-concept, well produced.

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Blakes 7 – Moloch

February 10, 2016September 11, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, ben stead, blakes 7, jan chappell, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey

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Ah Moloch. The one with Sabina Franklyn and the stupidest puppet alien you’re ever likely to see. It’s odd, but apart from those two facts I couldn’t remember anything else about the story prior to rewatching it. That’s surprising, since parts of the episode are certainly memorable (although not for the right reasons).

Avon’s been following Servalan’s ship for the best part of a month. Quite why he’s suddenly taken such an interest in her movements isn’t clear, although it seems to be simply because he’s got nothing better to do. In a way that sums up the actions of the Liberator crew during series three – a little light piracy here, some strange sci-fi adventures there, but as the Federation’s no longer the dominant menace it was you do get the sense they’re just marking time.

At the moment Vila’s taken over from Tarrant as the most annoying crewmember – no mean feat when you consider how irritating Tarrant can be. Vila spends the first scene moaning about the time they’ve wasted following Servalan (although since nobody pays him any attention he needn’t have bothered). If Michael Keating’s not best served by the start of the script then you have to give him full credit for throwing in a little bit of business as the Liberator looks set for a crash landing. Most actors would just stagger from side to side as the camera shakes, but Keating gives us a forward roll. Well done that man!

The planet, which turns out to be called Sardos, is initially depicted by a painting of some cliffs (with a little bit of smoke wafting across the screen). Clearly the budget had run out by this point, although they did manage to build one model set – showing Servalan’s docked ship – which looks quite effective.

As it’s a Ben Stead script (writer, lest we forget, of Harvest of Kairos) it should come as no surprise that there’s more than a whiff of misogyny in the air. Poola (Debbie Blythe), Chesil (Sabina Franklyn) and the other women are depicted as little more than toys for the men to play with. After Poola spots the Liberator on a monitor screen she chooses not to report it, which incurs the wrath of Section Leader Grose (John Hartley). The unseen Moloch (voiced by Deep Roy) tells him that she must suffer and orders that she’s given to his men. Poola then receives a slap (albeit offscreen) although nothing else happens for the moment since Servalan then enters the room. Poola pleads with her for mercy – which the former Supreme Commander naturally ignores – and Servalan then sums up the state of affairs on Sardos rather succinctly. “Well, Section Leader, the records were accurate. Women, food, and inflicting pain – in no particular order.” This is jaw-dropping stuff.

Grose is, well, gross. As he enjoys a meal with Servalan and his second in command Lector (Mark Sheridan) he suggests that the attractive young waitress (no surprise that all the women are young and attractive) would look better with a “bit of dressing, and an apple between her teeth, eh?” He then slaps her on the backside just to drive the point home. Whether Ben Steed is satirising unreconstructed male attitudes to women or whether he’s approving of them is a moot point.

Vila and Tarrant reach Sardos by a circuitous route. They teleport onto a T-16 space transporter carrying a cargo of convicts and, as they make planetfall, Vila makes a new friend – Doran (Davyd Harris). Although he’s not quite the loveable rogue he appears. “Ahh, my problem was always women” he tells Vila. When Vila then asks if he likes them, Doran replies with a monosyllabic “no”. He’ll fit right in on Sardos then.

Things then lurch in an even more unexpected direction as Grose reveals to Servalan the secret of his power – an energy mass transmuter which “takes ordinary planetary matter – usually rock – and converts it into energy. The computer then restructures it into matter of every kind.” That Servalan finds herself completely outmanoeuvred by Grose does stretch credibility, although he does tell her that “if your reconstituted Federation was worth a light, you wouldn’t have chased halfway across the galaxy to retrieve one legion. Already I suspect my fleet outnumbers yours. Soon, it’ll be the most powerful in the galaxy.” It’s an interesting point, although this doesn’t quite tally with the impression given in previous stories that the Federation was slowly regaining its power.

As we head into the last twenty minutes, things get funnier and funnier (although not always intentionally). Servalan is introduced to Colonel Astrid, Grose’s former commander. It’s difficult to find the words to describe the Colonel, but imagine a tatty doll suspended in water and you’ll get the idea. Moloch’s voice then pipes up and suggests that Servalan be given to Grose’s men. That seems to be all that Moloch does – recommend that misbehaving women be passed over to the men to be sorted out. Hmm, probably best to say nothing more.

Grose has been recruiting convicts like Doran to swell his ranks and Vila (his new best friend) has also been pressed into service. Doran tells Vila that he has a treat for him – a woman. That it turns out to be Servalan is an amusing reveal, as is the fact that they decide to briefly team up. Since Michael Keating and Jacqueline Pearce had rarely shared any screentime together, their odd-couple partnership is the undoubted highlight of the episode. A pity it couldn’t have lasted longer than a few minutes.

And then Moloch appears. “That is how I reasoned you would look” says Avon, incredibly. Mercifully he’s only onscreen for a brief moment although there’s also the spectacle of dead Moloch a few minutes later, which is even sillier than animated puppet Moloch.

Apart from all its other problems, the passivity of the female characters is a major negative. If at least one of them turned out to be a fighter and had helped to defeat Grose and his men that would have made some amends for the way they were treated. Chesil seems to be written that way – but right at the end she and Doran appear to be killed off. It’s never explicitly stated that they’re dead, but since we never see them again it’s a reasonable assumption.

Moloch is just bizarre. There’s the germ of a good idea – Servalan being held captive by a rogue section of the military – but the rest veers from the forgettable to the hilarious.

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Blakes 7 – Ultraworld

February 9, 2016February 9, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, jan chappell, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey, trevor hoyle

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The contrast between Sarcophagus and Ultraworld is immense – in one fell swoop we move from the sublime to the ridiculous. It’s interesting that both writers (Tanith Lee previously, Trevor Hoyle here) were novelists with no previous scriptwriting experience (and Ultraworld turned out to be Hoyle’s only work for television). The difference between their stories couldn’t be greater though – Lee offered up a lyrical fantasy whilst Hoyle’s effort is little more than a pulp-sf runaround.

This wasn’t Hoyle’s first brush with the series as he’d penned two novelisations based on episodes from series one and would follow this up with a third novelisation adapted from selected series four episodes. If you’ve never read them then they’re worth tracking down, especially the first one, since it looks like it was adapted from Nation’s draft scripts (there are numerous small differences).

Ultraworld is an artificial world run by the three Ultras – who are blue-skinned aliens of varying baldness. One looks to be completely bald, one is wearing a rather ill-fitting bald cap whilst the third clearly didn’t get the memo as he proudly sports hair at the sides and back. So if the intention was to make them into a gestalt entity, someone wasn’t on the same page. The Ultras are humourless, logical and, no surprise, not great conversationalists.

They exist to gather information (Ultraworld is nothing more than a massive computer) and it’ll come as no shock to learn that the Ultras plan to drain Avon and the others of all their knowledge and then take the Liberator for good measure.

There’s the odd nice moment. Cally disappears from the Liberator and the others hear her crying for help from Ultraworld. But it’s not her voice – it’s an artificial construct and this revelation is a disturbing reveal. The location filming (at the Camden Town Deep Level Shelter) is impressive. Previously used for the Doctor Who story The Sunmakers, it once again effectively doubles as a strange, alien environment.

But on the debit side, what has happened to Vila? He spends the episode attempting to teach Orac jokes. I think once example will suffice. “Where do space pilots leave their ships? At parking meteors.” Alas, there’s many more where that came from, so it shouldn’t come as any surprise that this was rumoured to be Michael Keating’s least favourite episode (the proactive hero from City at the Edge of the World seems a long time ago). It’s worth noting that Vila’s jokes do play an important part in the conclusion of the story, but that doesn’t make me any more disposed to enjoy them.

With Vila acting the fool and Cally and Avon sidelined, it falls to Dayna and Tarrant to carry the brunt of the action. Although it’s not the greatest story ever, they make an attractive pair (and for once Tarrant isn’t particularly annoying). They have to suffer the oddest part of the episode though, as the Ultras suddenly realise that Danya and Tarrant are girl/boy and decide that a bonding ceremony is in order. It beggars belief that whilst they’ve accumulated masses of knowledge they know nothing of the ways of, ahem, human love. So they’re keen for Danya and Tarrant to get it on, whilst they watch (yes, really!) They do dangle a carrot – hinting they might let them go if they agree.

DAYNA: Tarrant, I think we should accept the offer. Then we can return to the Liberator.
TARRANT: You can’t be serious. You don’t believe what they say.
DAYNA: We have to believe if we hope to survive. Kiss me.
TARRANT: What?
DAYNA: I said, kiss me. Come on. I can’t be all that repulsive

It’s hard to take any of this seriously, especially when one of the Ultras pops up on the screen, asking “has the bonding ceremony begun?”, as soon as they start kissing – which rather puts a damper on things.

Complete with a giant pulsating brain, Ultraworld is pretty stupid sci-fi schlock, but it’s impossible not to derive some entertainment from it. I’m glad it was more the exception than the norm though.

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Blakes 7 – Sarcophagus

February 8, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, jan chappell, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey, tanith lee

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Tanith Lee was a prolific novelist whose output covered many genres, including fantasy (both children’s and adult), science fiction, horror and historical fiction. Her two Blakes 7 scripts were her only ventures into television scriptwriting so it’s obvious that Chris Boucher took something of a chance when he commissioned her (writing a novel and writing a script are two very different disciplines).

We have to be grateful that Boucher did take the risk as Sarcophagus is unlike any previous Blakes 7 script. If you favour the action/adventure model of B7 then this one may not be to your taste – it’s a fantasy tale that includes a musical interlude and a dialogue-free opening scene featuring hooded characters performing strange acts. Although some of the plot elements are familiar – the Liberator spies a strange craft drifting in space/Cally gets taken over – Lee is able to take this hackneyed material and fashion something quite different from the norm.

Sarcophagus opens with a funeral aboard an alien vessel. Various masked characters perform different rituals – we see a musician, a soldier, a conjurer, etc – and later we see the Liberator crew dressed in the same garb, performing the same actions. The mysterious alien who takes over Cally’s body later reveals that she enjoys being attended to by intelligent minions, so it would appear that she is visualising how each of the crew would best serve her. No surprise that Vila is the jester or that Tarrant is the soldier (shoot first, think later seems to be his motto in this story). Unexpectedly, Dayna turns out to be musical (there’s a brief song mid-way through the episode, although this isn’t Blakes 7’s – The Musical, you may be glad to hear).

Since most of the action takes place aboard the Liberator and the only speaking roles are taken by the regulars, the script is a dense, dialogue heavy affair which has plenty of time to study how the various characters interact with each other. The relationship between Avon and Cally is key to the story and early on there’s a revealing moment in Cally’s cabin. She’s spent the last ten hours alone, thinking of her home planet and how she’ll never see it again.

AVON: I wish I could promise you that the sparkling company on the flight deck would take you out of yourself.
CALLY: I’m all right.
AVON: No, you’re not. But you will be. Regret is part of being alive. But keep it a small part.
CALLY: As you do?
AVON: Demonstrably.

Coming so soon after the events of Rumours of Death, it’s possible to argue that Avon’s referring not only to Cally, but also to himself. Either way, it’s a quiet, reflective moment that’s handled well by Darrow and Chappell.

The most fun to be had comes from the clashes between Avon and Tarrant. Tarrant’s still being irritating and obnoxious – although he’s correct when he surmises that something came back with Cally from the alien vessel. It’s his bull-in-a-china-shop approach that wins him few admirers though.

AVON: Shut up, Tarrant.
TARRANT: Did you say something to me?
AVON: I said, shut up. I apologise for not realising you are deaf.
TARRANT: There’s something else you don’t realise. I don’t take any orders from you.
AVON: Well, now that’s a great pity, considering that your own ideas are so limited.

Darrow’s at his laconic best here, and it’s clear that Avon considers Tarrant to be no threat to his dominance at all (despite Tarrant’s claims to the contrary).

As the alien draws power from the Liberator, director Fiona Cumming elects to turn the lights down. This not only indicates that the ship is stricken, but it helps to increase the tension – which is furthered by the fact that both Orac and Zen are put out of commission. There’s something particularly disturbing about hearing Zen’s speech get slower and slower (he’s such a solid, reassuring presence that it’s jarring when he’s no longer there).

If the flashbacks (or flashforwards, maybe) of the Liberator crew dressed in strange costumes are odd, then even odder is Vila’s decision to do some conjuring tricks, mid episode, on the flight deck. It’s reasonable to assume that he decides to amuse himself in order to keep his spirits up (he’s alone and frightened of the increasing darkness) but after each trick there’s a massive round of applause. Do we suppose that this non-diegetic sound was only heard in Vila’s head? It’s only a throwaway moment but it’s another unusual, non-realistic touch.

The alien who takes over Cally remains an indistinct character. We learn that for her race, death is merely an interim state and that she requires Cally’s body in order to attain corporeal form once again. She proves to be no match for Avon though – or rather it’s the part of her that’s still Cally who can’t bring herself to harm him. Unexpectedly he kisses her, although all becomes clear when he uses this as an excuse to wrench a ring from her finger. It’s the ring that’s allowed her to drain energy from Cally and when it’s removed, her power is broken. Darrow’s excellent again here as he refuses her entreaties to return it (“That would be a little foolish, when I just went to so much trouble to get it”) as is Chappell, as the alien senses her end is nigh.

Avon! Avon, give it back to me. You must. You don’t know. I HAVE to keep this body. I have to live. I’ve waited so long. Centuries. More time than you could comprehend. How can you imagine what it must be like to be dead, to exist in nothingness, in nowhere. Blind, deaf, dumb, and yet to be sentient, aware, waiting. Centuries of waiting. I have to find my world again, my people, my home. I want to breathe and see and feel. And know. Don’t send me back into the dark, Avon, let me live.

With a dual role for Jan Chappell, this is very much her episode but it’s equally a good vehicle for Paul Darrow. After a shaky few episodes early on, series three has hit a rich vein of form.

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Blakes 7 – Rumours of Death

February 7, 2016February 7, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, chris boucher, jacqueline pearce, jan chappell, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, stephen pacey

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Rumours of Death features Blake 7‘s most effective cold opening. Avon is a prisoner of the Federation and he’s in a pretty bad way. Unshaven and in pain, he’s been a captive for five days and during that time he’s proven to be rather uncooperative. He’s visited in his cell by the Federation’s top torturer, Shrinker (John Bryans) who is determined to get the truth out of him – one way or another.

Set-wise, this opening section is simply staged. Avon’s cell is bare and we never venture any further into the Federation detention block. But the illusion that Avon isn’t the only prisoner is effectively created by the off-camera screams of another poor unfortunate. And as Shrinker brandishes a laser probe it seems likely that Avon will also be screaming soon. Director Fiona Cumming chooses to keep the camera angle in this scene quite low – with Avon seated on the bed and Shrinker standing over him it helps to create the impression of the Federation man’s dominance. A simple trick (like the off-camera screams) but nonetheless effective.

The attentive viewer wouldn’t have been fooled by Avon’s plight for too long. It now becomes clear why he mentioned Shrinker in the previous episode (he’d told the rest of the crew that Shrinker was the key to understanding why Anna Grant, the woman he loved, died). So when Shrinker appears here it’s clear that Avon’s plan is in full swing. That he was prepared to withstand days of torture (it’s never explicitly stated what happened to him, but it clearly wasn’t pleasant) in order to lure Shrinker to his cell speaks volumes. Whether for good or bad is debatable though. Avon’s always been a driven, single-minded character, but the events of this episode seem to clearly indicate his future, tragic path – the loss of the Liberator, his inability to ever trust again and the cataclysmic events on Gauda Prime.

When Tarrant and Dayna teleport into the cell and take Avon and Shrinker back to the Liberator it’s remarkable how quickly Shrinker devolves into a whimpering, pathetic character. The cliche that he was only a man who followed orders is aired, but there’s a faint sense of unreality about his total collapse. Yes, it’s reasonable to assume that such a man would be powerless when stripped of his authority, but it might have played better had he kept a faint air of defiance.

The reactions of Tarrant, Dayna and Vila are noteworthy. They surround the cowering Shrinker and goad him, causing a disgusted Cally to snap at them. That Shrinker’s a mass-murderer is unquestionable and Tarrant tells her that he’s nothing more than an animal. “Yes, and it’s contagious, isn’t it?” responds Cally. With series three of Blakes 7 having largely abandoned the freedom fighter/terrorist attacks of the first two series, this brief exchange taps into some of the more interesting character moments from previous stories like Star One. Shrinker is a monster, but if they behave like him can they claim to be any better?

Whilst this part of the plot is bubbling along nicely, we jump to Earth. Sula (Lorna Helibron) and Chesku (Peter Clay) are two high-ranking officials in the Federation (and are also married). Chesku is clearly a man with a great regard for his own oratorical skills and gives his wife a demonstration of part of a speech he plans to deliver later. “The rabble which sought to challenge the established order lacked our inspiration, our unity, our leadership. They are crushed. Earth and the Inner Planets are once again united. Gentlemen, I give you a toast. Our inspiration, our unity, our leader: President Servalan.”

Sula responds that “I’m sure Servalan will be delighted. She is, after all, a tasteless megalomaniac.” The faintly off-key nature of the episode continues after two Federation troopers turn up and, on Sula’s orders, shoot Chesku dead. Peter Clay’s death (all flailing arms as he crashes into a bush) isn’t the most impressive, but never mind. It helps to set up the events for the rest of the episode as it looks as if a palace revolution is taking place. The power-struggles within the Federation following the war with the aliens is certainly something that could have been developed more during series three. As it was, Servalan seemed to spend far too much time tussling with Avon and the others instead of attempting to secure her position.

Things get even stranger when Avon starts to question Shrinker. Avon shows him a picture of Anna Grant, but he claims he doesn’t know her. “I’ve killed hundreds and remembered them all, all of them, every last whining traitor. And there wasn’t one that died without telling me what I wanted to know. Not one.” We then flashback to scenes of Anna in bed with Avon. It’s maybe not immediately clear, but this is the same woman who now calls herself Sula. In Space Fall we were told that Avon was nearly responsible for the greatest banking fraud in Federation history, but Shrinker now tells him that he was monitored right from the start (he was under the observation of an agent called Bartolomew from Central Security). It’s another small moment which helps to emphasise that Avon’s not as infallible as he might appear.

Avon leaves Shrinker a prisoner in a cave with no escape and a gun for company. Avon promised him a way out and this is it (“It’s a better deal than you gave any of your victims”). With Shrinker’s information, he now decides to set course for Earth to confront Servalan and demand that she reveal the identity of Bartolomew. This is the weakest part of the script – that Avon would decide to return to Earth seems foolhardy enough but that he chooses to do so on the same day that Anna/Sula decides to take out Servalan is one coincidence too many.

Greenlee (Donald Douglas) and Forres (David Haig) are two career officers who are on security duty at the lavish country house that serves as Servalan’s headquarters. It seems that Chris Boucher took a leaf out of Robert Holmes’ book as Greenlee and Forres act as detached narrators for the first half of the episode – they help to fill in the blanks of what we’re seeing. Although unlike most Holmesian double-acts they don’t make it to the end as they’re both mown down by Sula’s men. The palace revolution is far from bloodless, but it’s comprehensive.

Jacqueline Pearce doesn’t have a great deal of screentime in this episode, but that’s not really a criticism. Servalan’s been something of an overexposed character (especially during series three to date) so Rumours of Death works well by keeping her as more of a background character. But her scene with Avon towards the end (she’s chained up in the cellar, helpless) is another key Avon/Servalan meeting that has no doubt launched a thousand fan-fics.

AVON: Is that it? Have you finally lost your nerve? Have you murdered your way to the wall of an underground room?

SERVALAN: It’s an old wall, Avon, it waits. I hope you don’t die before you reach it.

That Avon is prepared to set Servalan free when Sula and others are close to destroying her power forever is intriguing (it looks as if everything that Blake fought for is within their grasp). This is open to interpretation though. Is Sula keen to replace her (as suggested earlier on) or does she really support the notion of a People’s Council? If it’s the latter, then it’s ironic that Sula has been fighting for the same things that the Liberator crew did for so long.

It’ll come as no surprise that Anna = Sula = Bartolomew or that Avon kills her. So Anna was a fiction who only existed for Avon. But Sula’s dying words seem to suggest that she genuinely did love Avon. But in the hall of mirrors that’s Rumours of Death can we believe her this time?

This is clearly a great vehicle for Paul Darrow, who makes the most of the material. There’s a few niggles (for example, Servalan is taken prisoner rather too easily and if Anna Grant never existed who was the man who claimed to be her brother in the series two episode Countdown?) but overall this is a classy episode.

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Blakes 7 – Children of Auron

February 5, 2016February 5, 2016 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's BBC, blakes 7, jacqueline pearce, jan chappell, josette simon, michael keating, paul darrow, peter tuddenham, roger parkes, stephen pacey

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Servalan’s always been insanely ruthless, but Children of Auron is extreme, even by her standards. She infects the whole population of Auron with a deadly pathogen to achieve two goals – firstly to capture the Liberator and secondly to continue her bloodline.

She explains why capturing the Liberator remains such a high priory – with the Federation in tatters she’ll be able to take control again quicker with the most powerful ship in the galaxy. Does this really make sense? The galaxy’s a big place and the Liberator, powerful though it is, is only one ship. I can’t see that it would make that much difference (and anyway, it’s not ships she needs but good men). The fact that she effectively wants to have children (although the technique on Auron is only able to create clones of herself) is even more startling. Servalan’s never shown any sort of maternal instinct, so this revelation is rather hard to take.

It was perhaps inevitable that we’d return to Cally’s home planet one day and although there isn’t a great deal of time to develop its backstory, we still learn a little. C.A. One (Ronald Leigh-Hunt) has kept Auron strictly neutral – any contact with outsiders has been discouraged, but the unfortunate result is that the pathogen is able to spread unchecked (few of his people have any sort of resistance to space viruses due to their strict isolationist policy). It’s a shame that Leigh-Hunt doesn’t essay a subtler performance, as C.A. One ends up as little more than a bluff blusterer.

Cally has an identical twin, Zelda. Given Auron’s skills in cloning this is reasonable enough (although credibility is stretched later in the series when we meet Tarrant’s identical twin – no cloning involved there). Zelda isn’t a very proactive figure and doesn’t do a great deal to further the plot (although she has an inevitable and pointless death). It’s a pity that more couldn’t have been done, as her demise does feel like a wasted opportunity. Jan Chappell is, of course, excellent as both Cally and Zelda – especially when we see Cally take on Avon. Avon is keen to head to Earth for a mission of vengeance (sowing the seeds for Rumours of Death). Even when the plight of the Aurons is known he’s still disinclined to get involved, so there’s a nice tension that exists between them (which pays off later in Sarcophagus).

If Servalan’s going to rebuild the Federation then she needs good men, but alas they seem hard to find. In Children of Auron she’s lumbered with a right pair – Deral (Rio Fanning) and Ginka (Ric Young). They spend most of the episode bickering (Ginka’s unhappy that Deral was promoted ahead of him) and generally bumbling about. Deral is unable to capture the Liberator even when only two of the crew are aboard and one of them is Vila, now back to his default setting of cowardly.

Ginka’s lack of judgement is even more striking. Avon, Cally and Tarrant are taking refuge in the replication plant – they know they’re safe there, as Servalan wouldn’t destroy her own clones. But Ginka is able to convince her that Deral switched her genetic material for his, so she gives the order to fire. As the plant is destroyed Jacqueline Pearce gives one of her finest performances in the series – Servalan clearly feels intense pain as her clones go up in flames. But Ginka obviously never stopped to think that possibly, just possibly, Servalan wouldn’t be terribly pleased when she discovered that he’d tricked her (as I said, he’s not the sharpest knife in the draw). So he’s not long for this world (and neither is Deral) which leaves Servalan with yet another staffing crises. Possibly she’s pining for the good old days with Travis.

If Auron remains a rather undeveloped world and Servalan’s schemes are barmy, that doesn’t stop Children of Auron from being a strong mid series episode. Sandwiched between City at the Edge of the World and Rumours of Death it probably slightly pales in comparison, but it’s still much stronger than the likes of Volcano and Dawn of the Gods.

Ten points docked for the final scene though, as everybody has a good laugh on the bridge of the Liberator. It’s not the first time it’s happened (the crew had a chuckle at the end of Breakdown, seemingly oblivious to the loss of life they’d just witnessed) but again it just feels so out of place. We’ve just witnessed a planet devastated, so a little show of solemnity wouldn’t have been out of place. Apart from that, this is decent stuff.

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