Dear John – Series Two

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Series two opens with several new recruits to the Wednesday night meetings of the 1-2-1 club.  We’ve already met Sylvia (Lucinda Curtis), possessor of an incredibly annoying nervous laugh, during the first series but Rick (Kevin Lloyd) makes his debut here.  He automatically expects everybody to know who he is – as Ricky Fortune he had a brief moment of pop glory in 1969 – so is crushed when nobody recognises him.  John, nice guy that he is, pretends that he owns all of Ricky’s records, but Kirk recognises this as a barefaced lie and delights in needling the unfortunate Rick.

Rick proudly tells them that his big hit went to number one.  But not in Britain.  Or America.  Eventually he has to shamefacedly admit that he was a chart topper in Iceland. Not quite the same thing really.  The observant viewer may have noticed that Mrs Arnott isn’t present, this is purely so she can turn up later and scream with delight when she spies her pop hero Ricky!  This is another lovely use of Mrs Arnott’s character, which makes Sullivan’s decision to write her out of the series in episode two a baffling move.  As I touched upon before, although she didn’t do much her brief contributions were always telling – with the result that her absence was certainly felt.

I’ve a feeling that Sullivan was tiring of the 1-2-1 club format, as several later episodes are much more focused around John, with the others rather pushed into the background.  The fact that John was becoming more central, a change from the ensemble feel of series one, might also explain why Belinda Lang didn’t appear in the final two episodes (although she briefly returns for the Christmas Special).  But another series which starred Lang, The Bretts, was also in production at this time, so it could be that her commitments meant she could only do the four episodes.  Either way, she’s another loss.

Rick features heavily in the first two episodes and then abruptly leaves.  His departure is left fairly open (his confidence takes a knock after believing he’ll be the star of a 1960’s disco – not realising that Louise had already booked Freddie and the Dreamers) but we never see him again.  A pity, since Kevin Lloyd (probably best known as Tosh Lines in The Bill) has an appealing sense of vulnerability as the faded pop star.

The third episode centres around John’s relationship with his son Toby (played by Ralph Bates’ real son, William).  Knowing this, and also being aware of Ralph Bates’ early death, does add several layers of poignancy to any scenes they share.  This was the younger Bates’ only acting job – he’s now carved out a successful career as a musician.

If Rick’s departure felt like a slight structural oddity, then so are episodes four and five.  In episode four we’re told that John has met an attractive divorcee, Liz (Lucy Fleming), but as we never see their initial meeting she just seems to appear out of nowhere.  Since John’s the eternal loser it seems obvious that his attempts to romance her will come to naught.

This appears to be the case when they both return to his room as he’s astonished to find his best friend Ken (Terence Edmond) sleeping in his bed.  Ken’s been turfed out of his house by his wife Maggie (Sue Holderness) and has sought refuge with John.  Earlier, John, Ken and Maggie shared an icy dinner together (the highlight being Maggie’s forced politeness – nicely played by Holderness).  Ken’s presence puts a dampner on any carnal thoughts that John and Liz might have entertained and she quickly leaves.  That, you would think, would be that, but the next day she tells the dumfounded John that she’s booked them into a hotel in Brighton for the weekend.

It’s an intriguing point to end the episode on, but that’s the last we see of her.  Next time John tells the others that Liz dumped him for another man she met at the hotel (well he did have a Ferrari).  Given all we’d seen of Liz during her – admittedly brief – appearance, this seems rather out of character with the result that everything feels very odd.  If you create a relationship that looks like it has legs then the audience may feel aggrieved if it’s curtailed in such an off-hand way.  Why Sullivan couldn’t have written Fleming into episode five as well is a mystery – as her final, unseen, phone conversation with John doesn’t convince.

The slightly strange tone continues with episode six.  John’s finally got some good news – he’s shortly to be promoted to headmaster.  And when he meets a beautiful young woman called Karen (Elizabeth Morton) everything seems to be going his way.  The revelation that Karen isn’t twenty three as he thought, but is a seventeen year old schoolgirl just transferred to his school, is a brilliant comic moment, although it’s an undeniably dodgy topic which you probably wouldn’t find in a pre-watershed sitcom today (always assuming there are any pre-watershed sitcoms of course).

I do find Sullivan’s treatment of Karen to be a little troubling.  It’s revealed that she has a history of forming relationships with her teachers and has already cost at least one of them his job.  Although she’s presented as innocent romantic, just not interested in boys her own age, there’s something slightly off-putting about the way her character is handled.  For John, it’s another indication that he’s a born loser.  Although innocent of any wrongdoing, his liaison with Karen is enough to ensure that he’s passed over for the headmaster’s job this time.  Although David (Frank Windsor) airily tells him he’ll be able to apply in a few year time, when all this blows over.

It’s always a pleasure to see Windsor, and since Elizabeth Morton (now acting under the name of Elizabeth Heery) was twenty six when this episode was made it’s possible to find her attractive as a schoolgirl with a clear conscience.  But that still doesn’t stop this episode from being a somewhat strange watch.

Dear John ended with the 1987 Christmas special.  Kate returns – as eventually does Kirk.  Peter Blake spends most of the episode as Eric, telling John that Kirk is dead and he’ll never ever be him again.  But when Eric, by a stunning coincidence, happens to be present in the same pub where the others have gathered (he’s not brave enough to meet his former friends as Eric) and observes Ralph being harassed by some Hells Angels, he knows what he has to do.  Clutching his Kirk suit, which he had planned on binning, he strides into the gents toilets – to emerge as Kirk in all his glory.  The Superman theme helps to reinforce the obvious joke, but it’s clearly one that delights the audience as they launch into a round of applause.

The notion that Eric is a feeble nobody whilst Kirk is a master of martial arts is hard to swallow, so this is the moment when Dear John jumped the shark (Kirk is able to take on and beat the gang of Hells Angels without breaking a sweat).  It’s a great comic moment – as is the sight of Ralph hung up on the coatstand! – but it stretches credibility to breaking point.  Still, it was Christmas so we’ll let them off.

Better defined character comedy closes the show.  John has had a strained relationship with Mrs Lemenski (Irene Prador) for the whole of the run.  She regards him as a nutcase and was never backwards in coming forwards to tell him so.  But this episode is where we learn a little more about her and discover that she’s just as lonely as the rest of them.  But whilst John and the others have the dubious pleasures of the 1-2-1 club, she has nothing, so when she offers to cook him Christmas dinner he – after a brief struggle with his conscience – agrees.  His ex-wife has asked him to spend Christmas with her and he’d agreed with alacrity.  Mrs Lemenski seems to have put a spoke in this, but I’ve no doubt that John will be able to work something out, meaning that the series ends on a slightly positive note.

Although I’ve been slightly critical here, series two of Dear John still has plenty of excellent comic moments, it’s just that when watching it back-to-back with series one it becomes clear that something was missing.  Probably John Sullivan was right to introduce new characters and move away from the 1-2-1 club setting (otherwise it could have ended up in a rut) but given the strained nature of some of series two it does seem that everybody was aware that the show had run its course.

Dear John – Series One

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By the mid eighties John Sullivan was on something of a roll.  Having started as a gag writer for the Two Ronnies in the late seventies he then quickly created a trilogy of classic sitcoms – Citizen Smith (1977-1980), Just Good Friends (1983-1986) and the series for which he’ll always be best remembered, Only Fools and Horses (1981-2003).

So despite having Just Good Friends and Only Fools and Horses on the go at the same time, Sullivan then increased his workload by adding another show, Dear John (1986-1987), into the mix.  Although popular at the time (and it was strong enough to spawn an American remake a few years later) it’s possibly not so well remembered today.  This may be because unlike Only Fools it never enjoyed blanket repeats (indeed the last terrestrial outing I can find a record of was back in 1991).

It also had quite a short run – two series and a Christmas Special, so just a total of fourteen episodes.  It’s sometimes been assumed that Ralph Bates’ tragically early death was the reason why the series didn’t continue, but the last episode aired in 1987 and Bates died four years later, so it seems more likely that Sullivan had run out of ideas for the characters.  This is something we’ll touch upon when we discuss series two, as there were several very clear attempts made to shake up the format.

The opening titles for the first series act as a very good shorthand to explain the concept of the show.  John Lacey (Ralph Bates) returns home to find a Dear John letter – his wife, Wendy, has left him.  We then cut to the court, where he looks optimistic (before he goes in that is).  Afterwards, things clearly haven’t gone well and he’s forced to pack his bags and move into a dingy one-room flat.

From the first scene John is presented as a loser.  A nice guy maybe, but a loser.  He’s enjoying a solitary pint, when an old friend, Roger (Michael Cochrane), pops up.  John attempts to put a brave face on his life as a divorcee, telling Roger that he’s having a great time – parties every night.  Roger must be pretty dense as he swallows these obvious lies and then tells him that it’s shame he’s so busy as a few of the lads are heading out for a Chinese meal.  John’s now dug himself into a hole – he’d love to go out with Roger and the others, but since he’s created such an active fantasy social life for himself, Roger thinks he’s joking.  It’s interesting that Roger never appears again – he seems to have been created as a potential regular (and Cochrane is the sort of actor that would enhance any series) but after this scene he vanishes, never to be seen again.

Tired of sitting in his tatty bedsit, he decides to join the 1-2-1 club, a divorced/separated encounter group.  It seems to be well attended, although it turns out that most of them are in the wrong room – they want the alcoholics anonymous meeting next door – which caps the opening gag which saw John go into the alcoholics anonymous meeting by mistake.

Once that confusion’s been settled we’re left with the motley bunch of characters who will be the main focus of the first series.  Ralph Dring (Peter Denyer) is a charisma free zone – seemingly a man with little personality or self-awareness.  Kirk St Moritz (Peter Blake) could hardly be a greater contrast – he has personality, far far too much of it and dresses in a way that can best be described as “flamboyant.”  Kate (Belinda Lang) is quiet and fairly reluctant (at first) to be the centre of attention, but she’s not as quiet as Mrs Arnott (Jean Challis) who it’s easy to forget is there at times.  Leading the group is Louise (Rachel Bell).

The characters are clearly defined in their opening scene.  Ralph and Kirk are the obvious comic creations, so they’re particularly useful when the mood needs to be lightened after a serious moment (Ralph can always provide a bizarre conversational non sequitur whilst Kirk usually has an insensitive insult ready).  Kate is a not such an extreme character, but she has a savage wit which is used to great effect to cut Kirk down to size (not that he ever minds, like a rubber ball he just bounces back).

Mrs Arnott rarely speaks – but this is a masterstroke, as whenever she does utter a few words they’re so well chosen by Sullivan that they invariably bring the house down.  Louise is something of a monster, although it takes a little while for her true nature to come to the surface.  Whilst she gives the impression of solicitous interest in her charges, it’s obvious that she really, really enjoys hearing all the gory details.  Her catchphrase (“were there any … sexual problems?”) doesn’t generate any reaction from the studio audience the first time, but when it’s quickly repeated they cotton onto the fact and begin to respond.

We see her delight in learning about all the juicy bits very clearly in episode two when John inadvertently goads Kate into admitting that her three marriages broke up because she was frigid.  Louise’s pleasure is plain to see and later, in the pub, she continues probing (“did your husbands try and force themselves on you?”) even after Kate’s made it quite plain she doesn’t want to talk about it.

My favourite episode from the first series is the third one, since it features Ralph heavily.  Peter Denyer was a joy from start to finish – deadpanning his way through each and every episode.  It’s the sort of character that has to be played completely straight (with no sense of self-awareness) and Denyer was spot on.  Here, he’s holed up at home, bemoaning the fact that not only has he lost his job but he’s suffered a death in the family.  Terry the Terrapin may not look like much, but he meant the world to Ralph.  “He was my best friend. We’d been together for years.”

This episode also shows Kirk in a different light.  He may appear to be rude, obnoxious and  narcissistically self-obsessed, but when he learns that Ralph’s razor is broke he goes out and buys him a top of the range replacement.  We’re waiting for the gag, but it’s a genuine present and offered in a true spirit of friendship.  It’s the hapless John who provides the laughs – he borrows the razor to have a quick shave, but it drops out of his hand into the fishtank (destroying Kirk’s gift and killing Ralph’s replacement terrapins in one fell swoop).  Bates, so good at both verbal and non-verbal comedy, is a delight in this scene.

The seventh and final episode of the first series is another favourite.  Kirk continues to indulge in his wild flights of fancy, which nobody (except for the gullible Ralph) believes.  But the extent of Kirk’s fantasy life is greater than anybody realised – as John discovers when he meets Kirk at home.  He’s not Kirk at all – he’s Eric Morris, a bespectacled nerdy character who lives at home with his mother (who’s entertainly abusive towards him).  The difference between the confident Kirk and the downtrodden Eric is immense (although it just about stays within the bounds of credibility here, unlike the later Christmas Special).  And there’s a decent gag at the end, when Kirk returns and berates John for coming round to one of his safe-houses.  Did he not realise he was undercover on a dangerous spying mission?!

So with a solid series of seven episodes it was inevitable that the show would return for a second series.  But whilst series two was still extremely funny in places, there were also signs that the concept was beginning to run out of steam.

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Moonbase 3 – View of a Dead Planet

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The Arctic Sun Project is a highly controversial scheme that has divided opinion .  The plan is to detonate a hydrogen bomb above the Arctic Circle and the resulting explosion will melt the polar ice-caps and create vast areas of new land (dubbed the new Garden of Eden).

The creator of the project, Sir Benjamin Dyce (Michael Gough), has just arrived on Moonbase 3 for a visit and Caulder is naturally keen to hear directly from him about this tremendous feat of scientific endeavour.  But he, and the rest of the team, are surprised and perturbed to be told by Dyce that the Arctic Sun Project will destroy all life on Earth.

Dyce is a brilliant scientist (amongst his many distinctions is a Nobel prize) but after his diatribe some of the others decide that he’s lost his grip on reality.  However, when all contact with Earth is lost and the whole planet is engulfed in a peculiar mist, it appears that his doom-laden predictions have come true …..

View of a Dead Planet was Arden Winch’s only script for Moonbase 3.  It’s notable for presenting us with a much more affable and pleasant Lebrun than we’ve previously seen.  He spends the early part of the episode making ironic remarks and he’s later pleased when the others decide to surprise him by celebrating Bastille Day.  It’s hard to imagine them making the effort for the distant and surly Lebrun we saw in previous episodes!

The opening few minutes also give us a rare glimpse of the Moonbase 3 personnel at rest and play.  We see Tom Hill playing a game of long distance chess with his opposite number in the Russian Moonbase.  I wonder if this was a homage to a similar scene in the Hancock classic The Radio Ham?

But there’s not much time for fun – within a matter of hours the Earth looks to be dead.  It’s a staggering coincidence that the architect of the Arctic Sun Project happened to be on the Moon at precisely the right time and was therefore able to let the staff (and the viewers at home) know exactly what he believes would happen – via a large info-dump.

Michael Gough’s not terribly good in this, which is strange because he was usually such a reliable actor.  Maybe part of the problem is that Dyce is supposed to be a much older man and Gough (who was fifty seven when this was made) appears far too young to be playing an octogenarian.  The wig doesn’t help either.

Once all hope looks like it’s lost, it’s instructive to see how everybody copes.  Lebrun gets drunk and demands to know when Caulder plans to kill them all, whilst Bruno Ponti (Garrick Hagon) gets drunk and mauls Dr Helen Smith.  It’s rather eye-opening that his attempted rape of Helen is later dismissed quite casually (he was under pressure, like the rest of them, but it still seems remarkable that no further action was taken).

Caulder and Tom Hill meet to discuss what they should do.  With limited food and oxygen, they can only last for a few weeks at most.  Caulder isn’t keen for everybody to carry on until the final scrap of food is eaten, so the ever-practical Tom suggests introducing carbon-monoxide into the atmosphere.  It’ll just make everybody drowsy and they’ll gradually drift away into a sleep they’ll never awake from.

View of a Dead Planet has more of a hard-SF edge than some of the earlier episodes, although human interaction is still very much to the fore.  Since the acting is rather variable (always a slight problem with Moonbase 3) it’s not the strongest episode, especially thanks to the rather cop-out ending.

If Barry Letts and Terrance Dicks had been aware that the show wouldn’t be recommissioned, it would have been suitably bleak (rather like most of the series) to have ended with the complete destruction of the human race.  As it is, just before Caulder orders everybody to be gassed, communication is restored with Earth.  The detonation of the bomb caused considerable atmospheric disturbances, but they seem only to be temporary, and in time everything should return to normal.

After being so certain the the end was nigh, Dyce has to back-peddle somewhat – but he’s still able to provide the moral of the story (which sounds like it might have come direct from Barry Letts himself) by stating that mankind has been lucky this time, but they can’t afford any more mistakes.  With such potent and powerful methods of destruction, all humanity is placed on a knife’s edge – and another miscalculation could result, next time, in complete annihilation.

It’s not perfect, but Moonbase 3 is a programme that’s well worth your time.  And it wouldn’t be the last time that the BBC would create a SF series based on the Moon.  Fourteen years later, Star Cops would have an equally brief run (clearly Moon-based shows just aren’t popular!) and that’s going to be the next series that I’ll dig out to rewatch.

Moonbase 3 – Castor and Pollux

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Moonbase 3 hosts a reception for a group of Russian dignitaries.  Their party includes the top cosmonaut Colonel Dimitri Gararov (Milos Kirek) who’s delighted to finally get the chance to meet Tom Hill.  In his day Tom was a notable astronaut and Gararov makes no attempt to hide the admiration he feels for him.  As he said, during training whenever a tough question was posed, he’d ask himself what Tom Hill would have done in such a situation.

The leader of the Russian Moonbase, General Alexis Trenkin (George Pravda), has an interesting meeting later with Caulder.  Caulder is very keen to try and interest the Russians in a joint project.  Since Europe are very much the poor relation in space, teaming up with the Russians on a prestigious venture would be a certain way to increase their funding.  Trenkin casually tells him that for 350 million they could be a partner in a proposed manned flight to Venus.

But any thoughts of co-operation seem to be unlikely after Tom runs into difficulties whilst on a routine mission to service a malfunctioning satellite.  A faulty computer command has sent his capsule spinning out into deep space.  He can be rescued, but it would take a top astronaut to do so – somebody like Gararov.

Trenkin flatly refuses to send him as Gararov is soon to depart for a new orbital station, so he’s not prepared to risk his life.  But Gararov decides to go anyway, which naturally pleases Caulder – but Trenkin’s displeasure becomes apparent when he requests that Caulder is removed from command during the remainder of the rescue mission.  Lebrun therefore takes charge, but since he’s already questioned the wisdom of the mission, will he be prepared to make the right call at the critical moment?

After a run of episodes with similar themes, John Lucarotti’s Castor and Pollux makes a refreshing change.  For once, there’s no unstable personalities – instead the drama comes from the rescue mission.

The debate over how to rescue Tom highlights the differences between Caulder and Lebrun.  Caulder will not accept for even a moment the possibility that a rescue is impossible and he’ll do anything in order to make it happen.  If it means that his cherished dream of collaboration with the Russians is scuppered, then so be it.

Lebrun, on the other hand, maintains an icy detachment for most of the story.  He professes to be sorry about Tom, but he considers that he’s as good as dead – and if so, why risk more lives in a futile rescue attempt?  The irony is that he’s the one who finally orders Gararov to make the very risky manoeuvre that ultimately saves Tom’s life.  He later says that it was the logical choice, but it was still a gamble – and had it not worked it would have been his career on the line.

Castor and Pollux is a good story for Barry Lowe.  Tom Hill’s by far the most naturalistic of the male leads (Donald Houston’s Caulder frequently lurches over the top whilst Ralph Bates’ Lebrun tends to be rather wooden) and this episode helps to fill in some of his back-story.  A respected and highly experienced astronaut, his current work on Moonbase 3 might be seen as something of a comedown, but Caulder is well aware just how important he is.  As he says, it’s Tom that keeps them all alive – and in the unforgiving vacuum of space that’s a vital skill.

Moonbase 3 was never the fastest paced of series and it’s fair to say that this episode is slower than most.  Since the bulk of it revolves around Tom’s problems, there’s an awful lot of scenes showing people gazing anxiously into monitors whilst Tom flicks buttons in his capsule.  Modelwork is also fairly limited, which probably reflects the series’ fairly low budget.

It’s always a pleasure to see the dependable George Pravda.  Born in Hungary, he carved out a very decent career playing a variety of East European nationalities, including Russians of course.  And whilst he stumbles over a few early lines, Milos Kirek is solid as Gararov.

Although the current political climate is rarely touched upon during the series, we can assume that by 2003 (the year in which Moonbase 3 was set) the Cold War has ended.  There seems to be no mistrust of the Russians, for example, and Caulder’s desire to work with them (plus Trenkin’s comment that if the Europeans aren’t interested in a joint venture to Jupiter, they’ll approach the Americans instead) confirms that.

With the fairly down-beat endings we’ve seen so far, you could be forgiven for expecting this one to finish badly as well.  But for once, there’s a positive outcome – Tom is rescued and both he and Gararov make it back safely.  Trenkin is pleased and this demonstration of European/Russian co-operation only seems to have strengthened any possible future alliance.

Moonbase 3 – Outsiders

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Moonbase 3 is under pressure.  Part of the reason for the base’s existence is to carry out scientific research projects – several look promising, but Caulder needs one of them to show definite results.  And the sooner the better since Franz Hauser (Victor Beaumont) is on the way from Earth for an inspection.

Hauser is one of the people responsible for Moonbase 3’s appropriations budget.  If Caulder can’t prove that any progress is being made, it’s possible their funding will be drastically cut.  Mineralogist Peter Conway (John Hallam) may be close to a breakthrough, but he tells Caulder that nothing’s certain yet.  When Caulder complains that they’ve spent too much money for negligible results, Conway counters that that’s the price you pay for research.

Stephen Partness (Tom Kempinski) is also working hard and seems close to success in his field.  Partness has ruffled more than a few feathers, including Caulder’s, but if he can come up with something then presumably all would be forgiven.

Outsiders was the second script penned by John Brason.  Whilst the three previous episodes have all had their dark sides, Outsiders is the bleakest yet as there’s precious little comfort that can be taken from the conclusion of the story.

Peter Conway seems, at times, to be a deeply unhappy man – although his lapses into melancholy are only temporary.  But Dr Smith has noticed his changing moods and is concerned.  It doesn’t appear that his problems are connected to the stresses of living on the Moon – it’s probable that he would feel the same back on Earth.  Conway is just grasping for the reason why – there must be some other truth, he says, than just scientific truth.  During the course of an intimate counseling session with Helen in his cabin he remarks that “I can see that a tap for water is a great convenience, but something went out of the world when we stopped going to the communal well.”

Hallam’s excellent in this scene, as he is throughout the story.  Helen decides he’s a man out of time – a romantic – who seems to be cast adrift in a hostile environment.  She ends their discussion by kissing him on the lips.  It’s notable that this is the second episode in a row where she’s become attracted to one of her subjects.

The uneasy compromise between pure scientific research and the necessity to generate a profit is an interesting theme which is well developed here.  Given the expense of space research, it’s reasonable that the European government would seek to try and recoup as much money as possible – but research isn’t something that can be hurried (or if it is, then mistakes can occur).

But everything seems to be going Caulder’s way when both Conway and Partness announce that they’ll be able to demonstrate their successful processes to Hauser. However, Partness has faked his work in order to try and keep his career afloat.  He was on the verge of something, but the pressure of having to produce instant results meant that he resorted to subterfuge in order to buy himself a little more time.

It doesn’t take long before the truth comes out, although Caulder is able to keep it away from Hauser.  And whilst Caulder is a moral and honest man, he has no scruples in covering up Partness’ falsifications for the good of the base.

Conway’s breakthrough is highly significant, but he’s become increasingly detached and decides that he no longer wishes to continue living.  He dons a spacesuit and walks out onto the Moon’s surface, leaving the following note behind.

It is the coming of a new age in which I have no place. The new truths are not my truths. I think I am the perennial dodo. I belong to a thing like Athens, a mother of a mode of life which shall renew the youth of the world. A thing like Nazareth. Change is a delusion. It is of new things that Men tire, of fashions and proposals and improvements. ‘Tis the old things that are forever young. I have no place here. It is time to leave.

The death of Conway does give Partness a second chance.  Caulder was initially planning to send him back to Earth as soon as possible, but partly because Conway respected him, Caulder allows him to stay and finish his research.  It’s about the only crumb of comfort that can be taken from the events of the episode.

Outsiders might just be my favourite episode of Moonbase 3, thanks to the fine performance of John Hallam.

Moonbase 3 – Achilles Heel

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Whilst attending to routine maintenance work on the Moon’s surface, Bill Knight (Malcolm Reynolds) nearly dies when he runs out of oxygen.  It seems incredible that he wouldn’t have checked he had a sufficient supply to last for the duration of his work-period, but it appears that he’s not alone in making basic errors.

Professor Kate Weyman (Anne Ridler) has to admit to Caulder that she must have left the cut-out disabled on a vital piece of equipment.  The resulting damage will cost both time and money to put right.

Caulder is well aware that the Moonbase is like a functioning organism – everybody depends on everybody else.  And when efficiency starts to slip it could spell disaster for the whole base.  But what’s to be done?  Lebrun knows what he would do – enforce strict penalties for anybody who breaks the rules.  Caulder, on the other hand, doesn’t believe that such an inflexible policy would work – these are scientists, he says, not children.

But eventually Dr Smith begins to wonder the accidents weren’t quite as accidental as they appear ……

Achilles Heel was the first of two scripts written by John Lucarotti.  It may not come as a complete surprise to learn that it’s probable the crisises were triggered by an unstable personality, but unlike the first two episodes it looks like it’s deliberate sabotage.

Adam Blaney (Edward Brayshaw) always seems to be about when problems occur – he was the one that rescued Bill Knight, for example – and all the evidence suggests he’s engineered these problems for his own ends.

He’s also able to wage a psychological war of nerves with some of the other Moonbase personnel, playing on their own fears and prejudices. So when talking to Lebrun, he casually mentions how lax he feels Caulder’s administration is – knowing full well that Lebrun will agree. It takes a while for Helen and Caulder to put all the pieces together and by the time they do, both Helen and Bill are placed in danger.

Why didn’t Dr Helen Smith, who was the most qualified, identify that something was wrong with him?  Sadly, she’s taken in just like everybody else. Indeed even more so – she starts to become romantically attached to him.  This does seems rather inappropriate (like a doctor/patient relationship would be).

Edward Brayshaw enjoyed a lengthy career, but he’ll always be best known as the constantly perplexed Harold Meaker in Rentaghost.  He’s smoothly convincing as Adam, although it’s a difficult role – especially at the end, when Helen rejects his advances and his irrational side has to come to the fore.

The reason for his behaviour stems from his rejection as a pilot on a prestigious mission to Venus.  As he was denied the chance to end his career on a high, it appears he’s decided to ruin everybody else’s.  His actions suggest that he’s seriously unbalanced and the question must be how he was able to clear the physiological profiling which passed him fit for duty on the Moon.  But if the profiling had managed to weed out all the unstable characters there would have been very little drama in this series!

The opening minutes, with Bill Knight struggling on the Moon’s surface, is effectively shot – especially from his POV.  It’s just a pity that, impressive as the Moon surface is, once again we see the ground obviously move when anybody steps on it (a consequence of the way the set was built – presumably it would have been far too expensive to create a totally solid landscape).  But since all these scenes were prefilmed it’s surprising that they didn’t choose just to cut away from any especially unconvincing moments.

Although Helen is convinced that Adam was responsible for the sabotage, even if she doesn’t believe he was aware what he was doing, there’s no actual evidence to prove that both incidents weren’t genuine accidents. But his erratic behaviour provides Caulder with more than adequate grounds to ensure he’s returned to Earth.

Whilst Adam’s last-minute lurch into madness does feel a tad melodramatic, Achilles Heel is still a good story thanks to the guest performance of Brayshaw.

Moonbase 3 – Behemoth

behemoth

Series creators Barry Letts and Terrance Dicks were keen to ensure that Moonbase 3 was science fact first and science fiction second.  Most obviously this meant that Cauder and his team couldn’t expect to be visited by bug-eyed monsters – every danger they faced had to be scientifically credible.

Although having said that, it’s intriguing that Behemoth does tease the audience that there could be something strange out on the lunar surface.  Several unexplained disappearances are rumoured to be the work of mysterious space monsters.  These bizarre stories cause a certain amount of panic amongst even the most rational of people, which forces Caulder to venture onto the lunar surface to investigate.

One of Moonbase 3’s most fruitful areas of dramatic tension revolved around how a disparate group of people managed to live and work in the stressful, zero-gravity environment on the Moon.  But this might also be the reason why the series was so short-lived – after all, there’s only so many stories you can craft about people who are slowly cracking under the strain.

When watching the next two episodes (Achilles Heel and Outsiders) this should be borne in mind and I’m sure we’ll come back to the thorny issue of exactly how Dr Helen Smith manages to keep her position as the base psychologist.  Surely after yet another seemingly normal person has gone loopy, endangering the rest of the base, you’d think that somebody would be questioning her ability.  Although to be fair, she does have concerns about Professor Heinz Laubenthal (Peter Miles) – which Caulder choses to ignore.

But then it isn’t always clear who’ll be the next to buckle.  Some, like Laubenthal seem obvious candidates right from the off, whilst others, like Dr Peter Conway (John Hallam) do appear to be normal and rational.

It could be that Peter Miles has sometimes played characters who aren’t sinister or deranged, but if he has then I must have missed them.  To be honest, if you cast Miles then you’re as good admitting from the off that the character he’s playing is a wrong ‘un.  Maybe it’s the slightly odd, staccato way he delivers his lines (or possibly his space cardigan) but the Professor doesn’t seem to be completely normal.

After Caulder bans any work being carried out in the Mare Frigoris region, following the disappearance of two seismologists, Laubenthal reacts angrily.  He’s carrying out research work in the area, but exactly what he’s doing is a closely guarded secret.  And after an explosion in his lab kills him, it’s precisely the secretive nature of his work which allows the wild rumours to flourish, helped along by Peter Conway.

After a brief appearance in the first episode, Conway has a slightly larger role here – although his main episode will be the fourth one  Hallam makes Conway a charming man – but he also seems to be troubled by something.  Dr Smith is perplexed as to why he delights in spreading scare stories about monsters on the Moon.  The question she ponders is if it’s simply his way of letting off steam or whether his actions are masking deeper problems.

Elsewhere, Lebrun clashes with the prickly weather expert Juan Benavente (John Moreno).  Benavente has an astonishing accent, which Lebrun  comments unfavourably upon.  Given Ralph Bates’ fake French accent, this is a bit rich!

Behemoth and the later episode Outsiders were both written by John Brason.  Like Arden Winch, who scripted the series finale View from a Dead Planet, he didn’t have a background in science fiction.  Winch had written for The Wednesday Play, for example, whilst Brason had contributed to Colditz.  This seems to be part of the drive by Letts and Dicks to recruit writers who would be able to craft good drama.

The presence of James Burke, as technical advisor, was another sign they were keen to be as accurate as possible.  Barry Letts had decided that by 2003 there would be Moonbases and whilst the benefit of hindsight has enabled us to see that this was hopelessly optimistic, some of Burke’s reasoning at the time still remains sound.  By 1973, the love-affair with the Moon was already over.  The last manned mission had taken place in 1972 and Burke reasoned that nobody would be interested in returning there until at least the 1990’s – as it would take at a decade or so to study all of the materials brought back from the various lunar missions.

With scientific accuracy therefore very much to the fore, it shouldn’t come as a surprise there’s a rational, logical solution to the mystery.  Both of Brason’s episodes are highlights of the series and it’s the mysterious nature of this story which helps to keep the interest level up.