Pop Culture: The David Burton 'Doctor Who'

[DG Valdron]

Eglin Thompson, 1994

Murder in Space was going to be our effort to do real science fiction, as opposed to children's fantastic adventure. Of course, everything has to be sacrificed to Ian Levine's ego and his fixation with dredging out any old piece of the show. It's a wonder he didn't try to use Kamelion in Vienna, 1913.

So, the Vormics? They were going to be a genuine alien. Not some bloke with a few drips of rubber pasted to his nose and forehead, but a genuinely alien intelligence, an alien society.

The Vormics were based on colonial insects. Ants and Termites mostly. They were going to look very alien - compound eyes, antenna and segmented jaws, hard shells, insectoid exoskeletons, the actors would be bent over to simulate alien postures, they would have looked fantastic. I've seen the production drawings, it would have been so amazing.

But the key, would be the Doctor was going to be called in to investigate a murder among them. The Vormics were colonial entities, they were all 'sterile daughters' haploids from a central mother, genetically and physically identical to each other. Their society would be organized like an insect colony, everyone dedicated, everyone focused, with levels of intelligence and organization guiding things. It would be all workers, just being busy, with some drones keeping an eye on things as a kind of intellectual leisure and planning class, and then the central intelligence/mother/egg layer.

The Vormics were going to have no sense of self, they couldn't even comprehend murder - that took identity to kill and identity to realize someone had been killed. The Doctor was going to wrestle with this. He was called in to solve a murder for people who had trouble understanding what murder was.

So on the one level, it was a detective story, the Doctor solving the crime. And on another level, it was the Doctor exploring and coming to grips with this utterly alien society and alien reality.

I put so much work into that. It really was mine, in a way that none of the others were. Vienna, 1913, that was a stewpot and everyone had a piss in it. Volcano, well, that's its own story. And I wasn't involved in Monsters of Ness. So Murder in Space was mine.

And Ian comes along, and bam, it's out the window. It's all about Sontarans, now, god help us. Some fifth rate Doctor Who monster, trotted out for a bit of nostalgia. And Ian's proud as punch and going 'here, help me file off all the corners of your script that don't fit.' I almost told him to bugger off right then and there, you shouldn't be expected to be proofing illelligible scribbles while you're taking it up the arse.

I'll give it to Ian though, we were lucky. The Sontarans were all clone warriors, so we could adapt the script. He borrowed a lot of stuff from me for his Sontarans.

Mind you, Ian said, and he claims to this day, that he got a lot of the Sontaran backstory, how their society worked, where they came from and what they were about, from Robert Holmes himself, either before he died, or from notes from his estate.

Take that with a grain of salt - I mean, on the one hand, sure, Ian was a huge anorak about it and I wouldn't put it past him to badger Bob Holmes until he fed him a load of cock and bull to shut him up. But then, Ian's not the sort to keep any of that a secret, so if he did get it from Bob... well, it's out of character that he sat on it until he had to hold forth.

You want to know what I think, I think he made it up, all that Sontaran backstory. But his star wasn't riding very high right around then, people were getting fed up. I know I was. So if Ian was going to say 'Here's my views on the Sontarans...' Well, what's that worth? But if he said 'This is what Bob told me they were on about...' That's different. You see.

Anyway, we did a lot of work on the Vormics. Not just me, but the art department, set designers, props, costumes. There was some amazing work, and it could have been great. But so it goes.

We did talk about, if we got a second season, we'd bring all that out and maybe use the Vormics. But then, it wouldn't have been the same. The story, it was the story, you see, tailor made to explore the Vormics. Trot them out somewhere else, and they're just regular run of the mill monsters.
Which is basically what happened to them.

Anyway, a few years later, I decided to take them out and wrote a novel about the Vormics. Shopped it around. I even got some interest. But then it turned out that even though they'd never been used, not really, Millenium still owned the rights. I got on the phone with Ian and he was really generous, said 'ok' and 'no problem' right off. But the damage was done, the publisher backed off, the novel sank.

I still have it here. Do you want to read it?

 

[DG Valdron]

MEMORANDUM

It is with great regret that I must advise I am stepping down from my role as Executive Producer for Millenium Productions. I have enjoyed my work with you all very much, and I wish to assure you that I have absolute confidence in our crew and productions. This is for reasons of health, and not for any lack of confidence in the show. I will remain to assist my replacement and to ensure continuity. And of course, I remain committed to directing the final serial, Volcano.

yours truly

Barry Letts

 

[DG Valdron]

The big blowout? Oh, I wasn't there for that. It's a shame, I would have paid money to be there. I heard all about it though. We all heard all about it. Five minutes after, John Garvey was phoning around, and he's going 'Holy shit! You won't believe what just went down!'

Well, that was it. Me with a two year old and a baby, a 'special night' with the Missus, but I was out the door with my hat and scarf and down to the pub. We all were. We all wanted the details.

Part of it, if it was as bad as John was letting on, we might not have a job in the morning, it sounded that bad.

Part of it was just ... gossip.

I'll give them credit. They patched it up. So anyway, the Vormics were out. Sontarans were in. Just like that.

How did I feel about that?

We fucking celebrated!

Let me tell you about the Vormics. BAD IDEA. Look, here's the thing. It just wasn't working. Great idea on paper, no question, terrific in the script. The production drawings, the artwork, wonderful.

But there's a difference between words on a page, or drawings on paper, and an actual prop or costume. Many a time, there's a slip between cup and lip, you know. Sometimes what seems like a good idea turns out to be pretty tosh when you build it.

What we had were basically insects. Well, that's hard shell all over. It's not like you just nip down to Marks and Spence and say 'I'll have a beetle suit, if you please.' We basically had to design it as a series of plates, so we had to build molds and construct all these fiberglass plates that were all supposed to fit together, of course, they never did properly.

Headpieces. That was a pain all by itself. The actors couldn't breath out of them. One fellow, asthmatic, just about collapsed. Couldn't see out of them. The mouth parts didn't work right. Eventually we just locked it in place, but the bottom off, and then fixed up a separate jaw piece. The idea was that the lower jaw actually was free, it fit on the actor's own jaw, and we had a bungee cord around his head to keep it tight. Then the rest of the headpiece was on, and the actor could move his jaw independently. It worked about half well - didn't look great, but not too bad.

And the idea was that the costumes would be designed with non-human proportions. Basically, to hide the fact that there was a person inside them. Well, we tried stilts and we tried extensions, and we tried all sorts of covers. Again, terrific idea, but we just couldn't carry it off right. We had the actors bent over in the suits, contorted. They were suffering.

So then we were trying to work it with Rod puppets, for some of what they needed. So we were at this mixture of rod puppets and actors in suits, it was hard to get them to mesh up.

Bottom line is that it wasn't coming off. It just wasn't. We were trying all these things, and the results were hit and miss at best. At best mind you. More misses than hits, a lot more. The deadlines were coming up, closer and closer. I think delivery was a week away. I remember, working on the Vormics, I used to get on my knees and thank god every time I heard of a fuck up on Vienna, 1913 - because it meant I'd have another day to try and get the Vormics right.

We never had more than three - working prototypes you know, not so much camera ready - in a pinch, but meant to test out. Script called for thirty camera ready and wearable. We were up against it.

And the sets, the sets weren't working right.

You want to know about the sets?

Not my department, but I'll tell you. It's another part of what went wrong with the Vormics.

Okay, originally, we had a lady named Sara Fielding in the art department. Bit of a lesbian, not that there's anything wrong with that. Her job was the set design for the Vormics.

She did beautiful work - inspired by anthills and termite mounds and wasps nests, beautiful textures and colours. She did these drawings, production sketches and it was all rounded and curves, tunnels and ramps and paths, chambers, not a right angle in it anywhere, all soft. Beautiful work.

Expensive work. Let's face it, you don't nip down to the hardware store and order an oval door. Everything is straight, built to right angles or sharp corners. So to build it like she drew and planned it, that was going to be a job and a half. Lot of work.

Well, the build kept getting pushed back, which was good for us, working on those fucking costumes. But the budget was getting cut, and they were going to her and going 'this set is too expensive' redesign. So she'd redesign, more straight lines, fewer curves. She was going to dress it up with hardened foam, lots of latex, but even that was costly. They kept cutting her budget back, and she'd keep redesigning. Finally, she just said 'the hell with it' and quit. There wasn't much left to her stuff by that time.

Did that happen a lot? Oh yes, we had a lot of people quit. I'd say maybe half, maybe two thirds of us were on for the whole thing start to finish. But there was tension at times, people got frustrated. And there were lay offs, budget. People got hired short term. Happens in all productions. This one? Yeah, more than usual.

Where was I? Sara Fielding. Yeah, she quit. We all missed her. Not so much her, as her girlfriend, absolutely gorgeous. We all stood a little straighter when her girlfriend gave her a visit, I'm telling no lies.

So then they bring this new guy in, short term, Andy. Nice enough. The thing with these art people - they like to put their own stamp on things. He wanted 'Andy Stoop' art sets' not 'Art Sets by Andy Stoop based on Sara Fielding's designs.'

So all her stuff - gone. It wasn't going to be used. A few things got kept, those oval doors and the way they opened, that was Sara. But mostly, it was going to be Andy all the way. He went art deco. I'm thinking, 'Holy shit, Andy, this is an episode about giant bugs and you're doing sets from Danger Diabolik? - it's all white painted, and go go, you know?'

And that's what they were actually building? I'd look at that, and shake my head and go back to trying to make the fucking Vormics look like they weren't going to be Shiite. And they were going to be toddling around sets, where from the look of it, they were going to stumble over Frank Sinatra. Total mismatch.

So there at the pub, we heard the Vormics were out. We flipping celebrated. We were thrilled. I mean, Vormics were out. Sontarans were in, how hard could they be? Right? And best of all, with the changeover, we were guaranteed - I mean guaranteed, cheque signed - at least an extra week to change over and get it done. I'll tell you, the clock had been counting down, we were down to days and hours and we couldn't get the damned things to work. And now, we had a much simpler job, and all sorts of new time to get it done.

It was a godsend. We partied. Tied one on. I came home at 4:00 am, stinking drunk. There was a row over that one, let me tell you. But it was worth it. I remember, we dialled Ian Levine a hundred times that night, never picked up once. I can understand that, he must have been feeling pretty bruised. His type are like that. But I'll tell you, we were giving him three cheers and what for. He showed up, we would have carried him on our shoulders.

He saved us, he saved the world from the Vormics.

 

[DG Valdron]

MEMORANDUM

This constitutes my notice to all personnel that I am stepping away from the position of Director for Murder in Space. I've found that Vienna, 1913, is simply taking up too much of my time, and I cannot give Murder the attention it deserves. We have several good candidates in mind, and I am confident that the reins will be passed to a steady hand.

yours truly

Paul Bernard

 

[DG Valdron]

THE COMPLETE DOCTOR WHO. John Muir, McFarland Press, 2002, 2nd Ed. page 358-359.

In that strange experiment which was the Paul Burton ‘New Doctor’, Vienna, 1913, stands out. It consistently appears in ‘top ten’ or ‘top twenty’ lists of Best Doctor serials, save only those purists who (not without reason) exclude the ‘Millenium Productions’ adventures.

Whether Paul Burton is considered a real Doctor, or merely part of that strange non-canon fraternity that includes Peter Cushing, Maurice LaMarche, Rowan Atkinson, Richard E. Grant and Trevor Martin, everyone admits that Vienna, 1913, is something special.

What’s so special about it? Well, to start with, sheer audacity. They say with Doctor Who, it’s go big or go home. It’s hard to think of any other Doctor Who that went bigger. A less ambitious production might have been content to have Hitler as a star villain. Or Stalin. Or even wimp out with thinly veiled proxies. But Vienna, 1913, boldly has them both, plus Trotsky, and Tito, and even Freud. All this, inspired by the historical fact that all these men did actually live within a few blocks of each other during a few months in 1913, an astounding historical coincidence.

It doesn’t stop there, it throws in a couple of time travelling future criminals, borrowed from German expressionism (and footage from Metroolis) and an army of Nazi robots. It’s the sheer audaciousness that overpowers. It doesn’t just go over the top, it goes orbital.

Something less, something more careful or cautious would have been merely ridiculous. But the sheer insanity of the premise, the cavalcade of historical villains and science fiction bogeys is overwhelming. Disbelief is not simply suspended, it’s bludgeoned unconscious with a jawbone of an ass. If for nothing more than sheer camp high concept, then Vienna, 1913, was an instant classic.

Beyond that, the story, absurdity notwithstanding, is original and well told. The characterizations are deft. The acting is solid. There's not one aspect of the production that suffers. Even the Twins, who did so much to drag down Monsters of Ness, are well deployed here. Stalin and Trotsky suffer, they’re played as superficial villains, Stalin the plodder, Trotsky the hysteric.

The performance of Clive Barrow as Hitler, on the other hand, is brilliant. Barrow’s Hitler starts out almost likeable, an insolent opportunist, confident that he’s smarter than his employers. It’s this arrogance, opportunism and a willingness to betray that leads Hitler to rise through the story, from lowly henchman to the central villain, to the point where he almost seizes control of the Tardis, and morphs smoothly into the monster we all know from old newsreels.

This is also where David Burton really comes into his own as the Doctor. Much is made of Burton as a ‘comic’ Doctor, recalling the Douglas Adams period for Doctor Who.

But it’s interesting to see, beneath the comic asides, how serious the Burton Doctor is when he needs to be. He’s not comic at all in the presence of Hitler or Stalin, there’s no mugging for the camera. He’s still got his humour, his one liners. But in their presence, you can tell its forced, he doesn’t mean it. He interacts with the villains with a clearly transparent cheer. Indeed, with Hitler, there’s one rivetting scene where as Hitler turns his back, Burton’s Doctor stares at Hitler’s back and the mask drops, and you know that he dearly wants to kick him down the stairs in that moment.

Burton’s Doctor sails through the serial with a genial ease. He’s often witty, frequently observant, and entirely willing to address the camera directly. But he gets away with it. He’s never a clown, as Patrick Troughton occasionally played. His Doctor never invites us to laugh at him, but rather with him. Burton’s Doctor is reminiscent of Sidney James characters from the Carry On movies, a character with a keen eye for foibles, and a sense of pleasure in life’s absurdity, but is somehow never malicious.

Vienna, 1913, is really the only full serial of the New Doctor. All of the other adventures are one or two part episodes. It was only with Vienna, 1913, that we got to experience the New Doctor on the same terms and with the same room to perform as the classic series. More’s the pity.
　

 

[NCW8]

Murder in Space was going to be our effort to do real science fiction, as opposed to children's fantastic adventure. Of course, everything has to be sacrificed to Ian Levine's ego and his fixation with dredging out any old piece of the show. It's a wonder he didn't try to use Kamelion in Vienna, 1913.

Now, now

So, the Vormics? They were going to be a genuine alien. Not some bloke with a few drips of rubber pasted to his nose and forehead, but a genuinely alien intelligence, an alien society.

Interesting to see the different views on replacing the Vormics with the Sontarans. After reading this post, I did wonder wonder whether the costumes would be as good as the drawings.

And the idea was that the costumes would be designed with non-human proportions. Basically, to hide the fact that there was a person inside them. Well, we tried stilts and we tried extensions, and we tried all sorts of covers. Again, terrific idea, but we just couldn't carry it off right. We had the actors bent over in the suits, contorted. They were suffering.

It sounds a bit like the Zarbi costumes. One actor described wearing them as beign like stagering around with a wardrobe on your back. If you fell over then it would take a couple of other people to lift you back up again.


Cheers,
Nigel.

 

[DG Valdron]

Now, now

Now you know. Levine was after bigger game.

Interesting to see the different views on replacing the Vormics with the Sontarans. After reading this post, I did wonder wonder whether the costumes would be as good as the drawings.

There's a long, long history of stuff that looked great on the drawing board, but didn't work out so well in reality.

It sounds a bit like the Zarbi costumes. One actor described wearing them as beign like stagering around with a wardrobe on your back. If you fell over then it would take a couple of other people to lift you back up again.

I think that they were in the back of my mind definitely. But there's plenty of examples as well. I was also thinking of that Robert Culp episode of the Outer Limits, and my own experience being a rubber-suited monster for a short film.

 

[DG Valdron]

Interview with David Burton, 2002


The Draconian? That was Ian being sentimental. After he started working on Bob’s creatures, the Sontarans, he got the idea to get the rights for the Draconians as well.

Paul, you see, had directed Frontier in Space, with Jon, about twenty years ago. That was the first and only appearance of the Draconians. But they where Jon’s favourite monster. He was always bringing them up. So ... Literally ... Ian thought to himself: ‘Why not get the Draconians’ for Paul.

They were a one off, it shouldn’t be too hard, and it wasn’t. He just rang up Malcolm Hulke’s heirs. Three phone calls, and pop! It was done. Went for nothing really. I mean, someone calls up Malcolm’s grandson, and says ‘I want to use one of your grandad’s characters which hasn’t seen the light of day in two decades, we’ll pay you a nominal sum, and credit you and your grandad...’ What are you going to say? Are you going to start dickering?
He got the Draconians just like that.

It took a lot longer to get the rights for the Sontarans. I’m surprised he managed that. They’d been on with Jon, they’d done a couple with Tom, they’d been on that Two Doctor’s thing with Patrick and Colin. They’d even been on Fix It with Jimmy Saville. Jimmy Saville! The Daleks and Cybermen were the big ones. But the Sontarans were right up there, a close third. Later, they showed up in that Shakedown thing, and Mindgames, by the same people. They were up there.

Poor Ian. He thought he had pulled off such a coup. And he had! No question, it was a coup! But the way it blew up in his face. Terrible. It came around, but
I don’t think he was ever the same after. I think it broke his heart a little.

Bad timing. That was all. Everyone was under a lot of pressure, everyone was frustrated. Vienna, 1913, had gone completely off the rails. There were a lot of reasons for that. But it was hurting the subsequent serials. There was a lot of tension, trying to figure out our next step.

Just bad timing.

He could have, should have been the hero. But wrong time, and he turned out to be the goat.

Getting back to it though. Two things made the difference, I think, that let Ian get the Sontarans. One was that the BBC certainly had no plans for them. I think if the BBC or Daltenreys had even crooked their little finger, said ‘we might have some plans’ we’d have never gotten them. But it was all up on the shelf.

The other thing, and I hate to say it this way, because it sounds so cold blooded: Bob was dead. He wasn’t writing any more. So there was no worry about blacking his name at the BBC. He wasn’t having any concerns that if he licensed the Sontarans to us for this show, that he’d have trouble getting jobs. Not at all. For Bob and Malcolm, it was that we were dealing with estates.

I don’t know what we would have done, if we didn’t get the Sontarans. Gone ahead with the original script I guess. I suppose we had the Draconians, but you know, twenty year old one shots? Who cares. The Sontarans fit the story, the Draconians, you’d have had to work a lot harder to get them in as replacements. Don’t think it would have worked. Maybe one Draconian, which is what we did. Maybe that.

Just to level with you here, I think Ian did the right thing. I always have. I mean, the old script - what were we doing? Acting with bugs? With puppets? Poor old stuntmen, I would go over in props and look at the contraptions they were sticking people in - it looked like it hurt. They could hardly move. And I’d be looking at this fiberglass bug face, and thinking ‘how the hell am I going to perform off of that?’ I would have, don’t get me wrong. No question, but that I would have.

Do you know why Jon loved the Draconians? Half masks. The costumes were these half masks, left the mouth and eyes free. It gave actors tools to work with, an actors tools are their face, their eyes, their mouth. You can emote, you can respond, react, you can express. And that’s important not just for the actor in the suit, but for the the actor that is working with them. I’ll tell you that when you’re on stage, or on the set, performing, you’re at your best, you do your best work when someone is giving you something. If it’s just a big rubber or fiberglass mask, that doesn’t give you much. But if they’re expressing, you can take that, work off that, express back. I don’t know how much of that you see, but if you’re an actor, you appreciate that.

 

[DG Valdron]

Hmmm. I would have thought that Letts' epic meltdown would have garnered some attention.

 

[DG Valdron]

Millenium Productions Ltd.
"The New Doctor" Revised Production Schedule, dated June 1, 1992.

Vienna, 1913, three part serial, scheduled to follow on Monsters of Ness. Principal photography, April 16, to May 28. Post-Production May 30 through June 30 post-production. Airdates Airdates July 20, July 27, August 3.
　
Secret of the Sontarans, two part serial following on Vienna, 1913. Main pre-production up to April 15, with limited pre-production April 15 to June 30. Principal photography revised to June 1 through June 24. Post-production is scheduled for June 26, through July 31, 1992. Airdates August 10, August 17.

Volcano, a two part serial closing out the series. Main pre-production up to April 15, with limited pre-production from April 15 through June 26. Principal photography is scheduled for June 28 through July 24. Post production from July 25 through August 24, 1992. Airdates August 24 and 31.

 

[NCW8]

Hmmm. I would have thought that Letts' epic meltdown would have garnered some attention.

From what I've heard, it does seem a little out of character, but you dealt with that in your next post.

I'm a little surprised that he wasn't aware of the problems creating the Vormics costumes. If he knew about that, he would perhaps have been a little more receptive to the idea of replacing them with a simpler alien.

Oh, and a little more proof-reading:

Interview with Paul Burton, 2002

Shouldn't that be David Burton ?


Cheers,
Nigel.

 

[Clorox23]

WARNING - MATURE LANGUAGE AND ADULT THEMES.


"All right," Barry Letts said, rifling through the stack of papers. "That takes care of that item. Now, next on the agenda. We’ve got a memo from Chembest, that they’ve taken a large shipment of 35 mm from some American production company, so they’d like to move us down the queu a bit. They’re willing to offer us a discount. With our budget, we need to take advantage of that. So I’ve taken the liberty of doing some revised schedules..."

They were all seated around a group of folding tables in the main studio, wedged together to form a large table. The production lacked the space for the luxury of a boardroom or a boardroom table, so large meetings of the production staff, would take place in the open space of the main studio. Over in the corner, the Tardis console sat disconsolately, several panels opened, indicating a half completed repair. Lining the walls were various flats.

Ian Levine was there, and Paul Bernard of course. There was Tom and Stacy from the art department, Kevin from props, Alastair for the carpenters, there was the DOP, 2nd Ad, the full crew.

"Now, on to the next..."

Ian cleared his throat.

There was a sudden silence. Barry froze, his papers in mid shuffle. He glanced at Paul, their eyes met. There was an unspoken groan ‘not again.’

"I have an announcement to make," Levine said. "I think everyone will be quite interested."

"Indeed, Ian," Paul said, "but could we deal with it at the end of the day. We’re in the middle of the agenda here."

"But this is important," Levine wheedled. "It has to do with the Agenda."

Paul glanced at Barry, who lifted an eyebrow slightly.

"Oh all right," Barry Letts said. "But let’s deal with it quickly, and go back to the Agenda. We still have to wrap Vienna, 1913, and then talk about start up on the nets serial. We’re only a week away and it’s time to schedule sets."

"This has everything to do with the next serial," Levine said proudly. He took a deep breath.

The group around the table, froze.

"I have obtained the rights to the Sontarans," Levine announced proudly. "We can use them."

There was almost a sigh around the table, a soft sound of people exhaling. Of having unconsciously held their breaths. There was never any telling what Ian would come up with. People blinked, looked around, shrugged. ‘We can use them?’ What did that mean? There were four episodes, two serials, and they were already planned and written. There was a soft murmer of uncertainty, almost a whisper.

"You fucking imbecile," Barry Letts said. His voice was low, his features neutral. He seemed quite calm.

Paul Bernard looked shocked. His eyes widened.

"What?" Ian couldn’t believe what he’d heard. "What did you say, Barry?"

"I said," Letts spoke with low ruthless determination, passion beginning to gather in his voice, "you ‘quote’ fucking ‘unquote’ imbecile. Should I say it louder?"

A deathly hush settled over the room.

"How utterly stupid are you? How bloviatingly ignorant? Do you have the faintest idea of what we are doing here? I’ve tried to be patient with you, gods help me, I’ve tried. But every day, over and over again, it’s the same thing. You come in here with whatever moronic idea happened to cross your mind that morning, and then you just assume we’ll jump up and welcome it. And then you act like a petulant child when we don’t. Do you have any idea what we’re doing here? Do you have any idea what this is about?"

Ian appeared to be about to speak. Lett’s stood up, holding his hand, palm out.

"No! Don’t answer that! Don’t even think of answering, because I know if you answer, you’ll just bung it up, you’ll get it wrong, and that will just make it worse. For once in your life, listen to the sound of a voice that isn’t singing into a microphone and pay attention."

"This is not one of your fucking jam sessions. We are not a group of ‘artistes!’ sitting around a bunch of studio microphones, smoking drugs, and improvising off of each other, if that's what its called, while some sound technician in a recording booth tries to keep track of it all. This isn’t like that at all. This is not a bunch of twats at one of your convention panels, engaged in intellectual wanking, you fat shit. This is not a fucking coffee table bullshit session right now."

"This is Television, you unbelievable twat. Television. The telly. You know, that thing you watched when your mother was coddling your fat arse? Well now, you’re on the other side of it. And you know what there is on the other side of it? Work. Everybody works, but you, you dumb slob."

"Barry," David Burton said quietly, staring at a blank spot on the table in front of him, "that’s enough. Maybe we should..."

"Shut up, David," Letts snapped, "just shut up. This is a long time coming. Do you think the Telly is magic? Is that it? Is it a magic box? Well let me tell you, on this side, it’s not magic. When David does six takes in a row, that’s not magic. When Paul blocks him and walks him through it, that’s not magic. Studio lights to make sure it’s bright enough to film, making sure all the shadows are in the right place. That’s not magic, that’s a bloke taking an hour and a half to set it up, and to do that, he has to know the script and the blocking and who is going to be doing what and where they are doing it. This isn’t magic. We don’t swan in and ‘improv’ the whole thing like a handful of fucking performance art school prats, so they can write arse licking reviews for each other. There’s nothing fucking spontaneous or improvised, it’s all planning and organization, and making sure hundreds of people are organized through dozens of steps and have what they need to fulfill their job when and as they need it done, in order that the next step can take place on time and the people there can get theirs done. Does any of this get through to that little pea brain of yours? Hello?" Knocking hard on the table with his knuckles. "Hello, Ian? Are you fucking listening, you bunt."

"So no, this is not some sort of fucking art form, it’s not interpretive dance. And yet, you can’t seem to get that through that thick block of a head of yours. The great fucking Ian Levine, fan extraordinaire. What is your problem? You have notions? Fine. There’s a place for notions. Notions are fine around the coffee table or in a pub. They’re fine if you’re planning it out. Notions are fine for fucking interpretive dance, or hacks sitting around a studio, or whatever. But not during a fucking production"

"Oh, I’m Ian Levine, wouldn’t it be a marvellous idea if the Doctor came through a flight of steps. Well there’s no steps, and if you want steps for your Doctor’s two second long entrance, then we have to tear the entire set to pieces and rebuild it, and then we’ve lost three days, and god knows how many thousands of dollars. Do you have thousands of dollars up your arse? No, never mind, I don’t want to know. You don’t have an extra three days of studio time up your arse, I can bloody well guarantee you that."

"But there you go, over and fucking over and over again. No understanding of what’s going on around you. No grasp of the consequences... the implications.... It’s just whatever fucking notion that’s all bright and shiny, and we’re back on it again. Do you know how many times I’ve had to redo the budget, how many times we’ve done schedules and you’ve turned them into miserable shambles. Does that dull non-artsy stuff bore you? It’s not as satisfying as a jam session? Well, it’s what we’ve got, it’s how it works. And I don’t appreciate you coming in and treating people who have been doing this for twenty years, people who know more about this business, and who know more about their jobs in their little fingers than you know about fucking anything, as if they’re some phillistines who just aren’t as fucking brilliant and with it as you have decided you are."

He stopped suddenly. Barry found himself breathing hard. He looked around, everyone in the room reflected stark terror. Except for Ian Levine, who looked like he was about to burst into tears.

"Fuck it," Barry said, "I’m going out for a fag."

He turned around and stalked out.

Paul Bernard looked directly at David Burton and pantomimed utter horror. Burton wide eyed, gestured to follow. Bernard nodded, stood up.

"Well, everyone," he said with forced geniality, "that was an unusually frank exchange of views. Barry’s been working altogether too hard, so it might have been... You know.... Anyway, take five."

He hurried out after Letts.

There was a shuffling of chairs. People standing. Walking. Ian Levine wasn’t registering any of it. He had turned deathly pale, his skin chalk white. Burton was frightened, either he was about to have a world class tantrum, or he was having a heart attack, or a stroke. He walked over and sat beside Levine.

"Are you all right, mate?"

Levine nodded. He didn’t look all right. Not by a long shot.

...holy shit...

 

[DG Valdron]

From what I've heard, it does seem a little out of character, but you dealt with that in your next post.

Anyone can be pushed, and it's a lot more interesting when it's the most even tempered pushed to the breaking point. Starting from an ambitious start, the project's been literally falling apart since day one. And unlike Paul Bernard and other members of the production crew, Barry Letts didn't have the experience of Monsters of Ness to inoculate him. Instead, he took the experience of the smoothly operating BBC bureaucratic production, and went from there to a ramshackle and ego ridden company. In this case, Barry's restraint and even temper lead to him bottling up things until he finally exploded.

I'm a little surprised that he wasn't aware of the problems creating the Vormics costumes. If he knew about that, he would perhaps have been a little more receptive to the idea of replacing them with a simpler alien.

Remember that this story is really all about dissonant viewpoints. People contradict each other constantly. Props people always seem to vacillate between boasting and complaining. After a while you learn to balance it out. If the prop guys are whinging, the art department and other parts of the production crew are enthusiastic. Who do you pick.

You'll notice that after the blowout, Barry didn't fight too hard against the Sontarans.

Shouldn't that be David Burton ?

Corrected. I do appreciate the proofreading.

 

[DG Valdron]

Production Notes - The Sontaran Secret


Murder in Space had been planned as the showcase of the season.

Secret of the Sontarans began as an orphan. Reduced from three episodes to two, budget and production schedule repeatedly slashed, pushed back on, with dollars and time wasted on exotic props and costumes, derailed by the decision to replace Vormics with Sontarans, and suddenly bereft of both Director and Producer. After only a single serial, Millenium Productions was on the verge of collapse.

As Vienna, 1913's extended principal photography wound down, Secret of the Sontarans was delayed over a full week from its planned date of June 1, 1992. The props and costumes department began hastily fabricating Sontaran costumes and masks while Ian Levine and Eglin Thompson, aided by Robert Holmes notes, went to work on adjusting the script. Barry Letts was persuaded to stay on for a week or so to prepare yet another revision to the production budget and timetable for the serial, and Paul Bernard searched for a last minute replacement.

Retaining a Director at the last moment was difficult, the talent pool of qualified television Directors capable of taking on such a specialized production was small to begin with. Millenium productions was in bad odor with the BBC and although it wasn’t advertised, the word had certainly gotten around that working with them would not be particularly good for your career. More than that, the steady attrition and replacement of crew members, and the difficulties with Vienna, 1913, had been noted. To make matters worse, the timelines were short, they needed someone in only a few days, who would take on a half rewritten script, a reduced budget and a pressing schedule.

Ultimately, with the help of David Burton, they found Carole Todd, a long time stage director. In 1989, Todd had, in fact, directed Doctor Who: The Ultimate Adventure, with both Jon Pertwee and Colin Baker in the starring role. More importantly, Todd was willing to take the job at very short notice.
The serial went without an Executive Producer. Instead, tasks were divided up like a pie. Barry Letts was still on board to direct the final serial, Volcano, and consented to doing the production tasks for that block. Bernard continued to focus on Vienna, 1913, and assumed the remaining production duties. This left only The Secret of the Sontarans, and there production duties were distributed among Bernard, Levine and Burton. It was far from an ideal solution, but it worked.

Principal photography actually began June 6, 1992. Even then, only the Draconian, and four principal Sontaran appliances and costumes were ready. The balance of Sontaran headpieces for the background characters were still being cast. The shooting schedule had to be revised to move all the large set pieces to a later point, and bring forward the smaller scenes featuring the Doctor with the Draconian Emissary or individual Sontarans.

Yet, despite all these obstacles, the crew pushed forward.

 

[DG Valdron]

Carole Todd, 1994

.... you also directed for the Doctor Who series on television, is that right?

Not quite. I never directed Doctor Who for the BBC. I did direct a couple of episodes of something called 'The New Doctor.' That was a private company, Millenium Productions, I think. David Burton was the star, he travelled around in a red phone booth - so not really Doctor Who any more than Bill and Ted were. If it's not the blue police box....

How did that come about?

They phoned me up. It was really that simple. Paul Bernard was scheduled to direct, but he couldn't manage it. He was already too deeply engaged, and he just didn't have the time, so they needed someone to bring someone in. So they called me. I was available during that period, we negotiated a fair price, and that was that.

What was it like?

It was an interesting experience. The script had undergone changes, and the first script I worked with had these insect things in them. That got changed, thank god. It was very much a rushed job, we only had time for one or two read throughs, and that was on very short notice.

Luckily, everyone was very good. I actually had an advantage, Paul Bernard had done up extensive Directors notes, and even with the changes, they were quite useful. The crew had already had several episodes under their belt, so they knew what to shoot and how. I relied on my DOP a lot. Everyone was very cooperative. And it was a set bound story, which helped, I'm a stage director as I said, so this wasn't anything too foreign.

There was a fellow, Ian Levine. Everyone warned me about him, but I found him quite easy to deal with. Honestly, I turned him into my assistant, the poor dear just wanted to feel useful, so I used him.

It was a television experience of course. Most of my work is stage. If you're doing stage work, you do the whole thing in a linear fashion, from start to finish. In television, you almost always shoot out of order, arranged around the availability of actors, of sets, around shooting difficulty and requirements.

Do you remember David Burton? What was it like Directing him?

Of course I remember him! David Burton had been playing the New Doctor for a while so there were very few uncertainties with his character (laughs), I wasn't going to tell him anything about that. I remember him being very confident.

One thing though, he had this streak of... I don't know... vaudeville in him. At times, the way he wanted to play the character clashed with the tone of the episodes. We had to have a few conversations about that.

In the end, we worked it out. There were two supporting characters - played by twins, Judy and Jenny, I think. They'd basically been written out. I think in the first scenes, they were taken prisoner and they spent both episodes locked up.

Well, very early on, David came to me and said he'd like it if the girls had some larger part. That wasn't in the script at all, and I wasn't particularly interested in going off script. This was work for hire, I was a hired hand, you see.

But he was quite insistent. So finally, I said, if he wanted he could direct them in some scenes and they could do some more. On conditions, one that he cleared it with Paul, second that he would defer to me - that was excellent, I stuck all their scenes at the end - and for the rest of the shoot, he was well behaved. He still played it for lightness, but he struck the right notes at the right time.

Any strong memories?

(laughs) Confusion, mostly, shooting things out of order. I really only had a part of it. I remember watching it when it aired, and it was such a strange experience - deja vu all the way, but yet, completely unfamiliar. I knew all the pieces, but watching it was the first time of any sense of a whole.

I shot it out of order, I let David do some of the second unit work with the twins. There were some effects shots I wasn't involved in. I wasn't involved with the edit, the sound mix, any of that. I understand that normally, a television director stays with project through to the end. But that wasn't the case for me, I was, as I've said, a hired gun.

I read the script of course, but I don't know how much of it mattered, I was relying on Paul's notes and just getting the pages done. I didn't have a strong grasp of the material, and I was relying on everyone. If I hadn't done the stage show, very similar in some ways, I would have been completely lost.

Honestly, I can't tell you very much. It was just a job.

Hmmm. I did discover a promising young choreographer. I suppose that's something.

 

[DG Valdron]

Me and the Sontarans? That takes me back. She said that? Really? That’s kind of her.

Okay, so here’s what happened.

What? Oh yes, please, a rum and coke. Thanks.

Where were we?

Oh yeah, this was about ten years ago. I got a job as an extra with Millenium Productions. Some kind of potato headed aliens. Sondarans, I think they were called. No, Sontarans.

Do I watch the show? What show? Oh that? No, I saw it a few times as a kid. But I wasn’t really invested in it or anything. I was in ballet. No really. I didn’t stick with it though. I got into soft shoe, jazz, modern dance.

Anyway, I was just an extra. What I remember most was the costume fitting. Bulky, it was a lot of padding. The headpiece was this big brown potato, it just barely fit over my eyes and mouth. I was background, so they didn’t do any kind of careful job. About an hour in make up, it was like an assembly line for us. The guys in the foreground, the actors, they spent about four hours in make up.

We were all supposed to be uniform, identical. So they wanted people with similar builds. Not that it made a difference with the padding. I think there were a couple of inches different in heights, but they just put lifts.

Do you know what its like to be an extra? Have you ever been an extra? I’ll tell you the secret. It’s about waiting. You just get into costume, and you sit and you wait. Bring a book or a magazine or a game to play. I waited twelve hours once, and then they came in and said ‘we’re done, didn’t need you after all.’ I still got my quid. But that’s how it goes?

What? Oh no. Not that one. That was some other production, some American thing. I think Hugh Grant was in that one.

Anyway, so this one, the Sontarans. Well some bloke was friends with one of the actors, playing a real Sontaran, which meant he got some lines to do, and they actually spent some time on his make up. So he shared the script.
There we were in the green room, passing the script around. I read through it, I had time to kill. Anyway, the thing with the Sontarans was they were all clones. Not just clones, they were soldiers. Their whole race was clone soldiers.

So that got me thinking. What do soldiers do? Fight wars? Nah. They march. It’s all about marching in formation, parade formation, presenting, all that sort of thing, it’s all about uniformity, right. This is what they would do, this is what they’d be about, as natural as breathing.

Then I, I dunno, I thought about flocks of birds, or schools of fish. You know, how they’ll change directions all at once. One minute they’re swimming or flying one way, then they’re all going the other direction. Perfectly synchronized. That’s what they’d be like. Perfectly synchronized, as natural as breathing. So even when they were out of step with each other, they’d be syncronized like that - like you know how when a flock of birds change direction, there’s always a few birds who fly off in another direction - but they’re all flying the same way.

So we started playing with that. It was boredom mostly. We’d all been sitting around for hours and hours waiting. You get up to things. You chat, you make friends, sometimes you get a card game going. This just seemed like fun - a way to kill the time.

So when we got called up, we decided to do that, for a lark. We were all just background, you know. Anyway, we got away with that for one scene, but the Director, Carol Todd, she spotted something was up. So she braced one of the boys, and he ratted me out. The next thing you know, I’m being taken aside.
But no, turns out she loved it. She was a fill in Director, so she wasn’t that invested, you know. She was open to stuff. A lot of Directors, they like it clamped down tight - on stage or television, you step a little bit out of line, and they’re blowing up at you. But this really wasn’t her baby. So we amused her, she liked it. She appointed me ‘undercover choreographer’ and that was it, I was in charge of the extras.

‘Undercover choreographer’ Oh no, nothing like that. What it was, was she liked it a lot, we talked about getting me a choreographer credit. But if I had a credit, then according to the rules, I’d have to be paid. No money, no credit. Carole did remember me, so I got other work.

Truth, I enjoyed it. It was fun, having this little bit of stuff to do. You have no idea how boring it can be to be an extra, just waiting. We stretched it a little - I figured that Sontaran movement would automatically take cues from each other, or from anyone around. So I’d frame the movement, where we’d all just synchronize with the Doctor or the pointy headed git. I like to think it added something to the show. You never know.

It didn't really start my career. I mean, being a choreographer, that's not something you just do. One talented bit of flash? No one's going to risk a production on that. So I just continued on with my career, did a lot of small parts. I did end up doing choreography later. But I can't really say that had a lot to do with it.

 

[DG Valdron]

Paul Bernard, Internal Memo, July, 1992

".... Carole Todd did an exemplary job under difficult conditions. But in hindsight, hiring her might have been a situation of being penny wise and pound foolish. The editor has informed me that while the scripted footage is quite good, we don't have nearly enough coverage. I've asked him to do what he can with what we've got and prepare a list of 'guesstimate shots' that would give us coverage, that we can commission the second unit for. We don't have the resources to bring back the guest cast, but we might be able to afford to dress up an extra again. Unfortunately, we don't have the money for any of this, but we don't have a lot of choice. As it is, we'll be hard pressed to make our scheduled air dates..."

 

[DG Valdron]

SECRET OF THE SONTARANS - Part 1

The Doctor is summoned by a Time Beacon. He explains to Heart and Diamond that the Beacon is from an old friend. He homes in on it.

Exiting the Tardis, the Doctor and his companions find themselves surrounded by armed Sontarans. The Sontaran commander announces that he is their prisoner. A Draconian comes forward and suggests he meant ‘guest.’ The Sontarran immediately agrees that the Doctor is a guest.

The Sontararan commander then announces that the Doctor will be required to serve the Sontarran cause. The Draconian suggests that what he meant was that they were requesting the Doctor’s assistance. The Sontaran commander agrees that’s what he actually meant.

The Draconian comes forward to welcome his old friend, The Doctor to Sontar prime.

*******

The Doctor, it turns out, has been summoned to solve a murder. A Sontaran has been killed. In and of itself, that’s not significant. Millions of Sontarans are killed every day in their thirty thousand year long war with the Rutan collective. Death is a part of Sontaran life. But this Sontaran is an anomaly. The census is perfect, all Sontarans are accounted for. So where did this one come from, and who killed him, and why?

The Draconian, however, is concerned. As an Emissary from the Draconian Empire, he has persuaded the Sontaran ruling council to have the matter investigated. But since murder is unknown to the Draconians, they have needed to bring in an outsider - the Doctor.

The Doctor has been accorded the status of Ambassador. However, Heart and Diamond are not Ambassadors and immediately arrested. The Tardis is impounded, although as an Embassy, it cannot be tampered with. The Draconian suggests this is merely incentive. The Doctor has no choice but to solve the mystery.

This turns out to be tougher than it looks. The body cannot be identified because it is identical. All Sontarans are clones. Their civilization is a stratocracy, a civilization of cloned soldiers, by cloned soldiers, for cloned soldiers. The victim is physically and genetically identical to every other Sontaran. All foreign biological traces are identically Sontaran.
The Sontarans, as it turns out, have no motivations to commit a murder. No Sontaran has anything any other Sontaran wants, there is no jealousy, no greed, no lust. The Sontarans lack any of the seven standard motives for murder. The Sontarans understand death and war, but they do not understand murder. They have no sense of self identity, so to be murdered is meaningless, and to murder is pointless. The Doctor’s inquiries are met with baffled incomprehension.

The Doctor theorizes that if a Sontaran was murdered, then the murder must have been committed by a non-Sontaran. And since the number of registered Sontarans has not changed, the murderer must have assumed the victim’s identity and is concealed among the Sontarans, as a spy.

The obvious candidate for a spy are the Rutan Collective - a race of mind-melded jellyfish.

The Draconian notes that the Rutan are one of the three most dangerous races in the universe, and without the Sontarans to fight them, they would have overrun the galaxy. For tens of thousands of years, the Sontarans have stalemated the Rutans.

Which is why the Draconian Empire, and so many other civilizations over the millenia have supported the Sontarans in their war, the Draconian reveals. In turn, the Sontarans rely upon the other races for materials and support. Better the Sontarans than the Rutans.

The camera pulls away to reveal that they are being watched on a viewscreen. A Sontaran frame, manipulates levers.

*********

Heart and Diamond are sitting quietly in their prison cell. Suddenly, Heart senses danger. The cell begins to fill with poison gas. Diamond uses her powers to break them out of their cell, and they flee, knocking over Sontaran guards like tenpins.

An alarm klaxon begins, with red lights flashing on and off, announcing the break out and escape of dangerous aliens. The intercom announces that the Doctor has aided the escapees and is an enemy of the Sontarans who must be destroyed immediately.

A Sontaran attacks, but the Doctor disables it and flees. However, the Doctor is pursued and ends up trapped, facing multiple Sontarans. One of them gives the order to fire....
　
At the last minute, the Draconian appears and intervenes on behalf of the Doctor, but this provides only a temporary respite.

Together, the Doctor and the Draconian retreat to a strange labyrinth of crystals. The Sontarans will not follow them there.

The Draconian reveals that this place is called the Memory Archives, where the body was found. Someone had tried to hide it here. The Doctor observes that if the Sontarans found the body in here, then they will eventually arrive.

As if on cue, the the Sontarans arrive, lead by the Sontaran Commander. The Draconian attempts to intercede. Once again, the Sontaran Commander gives an order to fire.

**************

Meanwhile, Heart and Diamond, fleeing into an elevator, find themselves trapped. The Sontarans plan to blow the elevator into space, and start counting down to zero.

Heart uses her abilities to psychically locate the Doctor and send a message to him through the communication system, calling for his help.
　

 

[DG Valdron]

SECRET OF THE SONTARANS - Part 2

The Doctor bluffs, grabs a random object and announces it’s a detonator. He tells the Sontaran that he has rigged the memory palace to blow up if he or the Draconian is killed. The Doctor demands the Sontarans retreat immediately.

The Sontarans hesitate. The Draconian, terrified, vouches for the Doctor’s threat. The Doctor appears absolutely serious.

From a local communications unit, the Heart and Diamond’s voices come, pleading for help. The Doctor redoubles his demands.

The Sontaran Commander withdraws all his troops, but remains behind. Speaking into his microphone, he orders his forces not to blow the elevator into space but to stand by for his command.

With satisfaction, the Sontaran Commander tells the Doctor that they have a stalemate. But the Commander has the advantage, his forces have mobility, the Doctor’s forces are trapped. Inevitably, he will be destroyed.

The Draconian tells the Commander that he will be destroyed as well. The Doctor, however, says that the Commander isn’t afraid to die, no Sontaran is. The Commander congratulates the Doctor on his insight.

The Doctor asks why the Memory Archives are forbidden. The location is not precisely forbidden, it is explained, it is just that Sontarans prefer not to go there. It’s not sacred, because the Sontarans worship nothing.

The Doctor learns that it is a reliquary - the Memory Archives: the repository of all of old Sontaran culture - their art, their literature, their music and songs, their stories and jokes, their history, their dreams. In order to fight the Rutans, the Sontarans were forced to turn their back on their culture, to become a completely militarized civilization. What they gave up, they preserved in reliquaries throughout their empire. The Sontaran Commander reveals that all Sontarans believe that when the Rutans are finally defeated, they will be free to reclaim their old culture.

The Sontaran Commander, however... And by extension, all Sontarans are not sure that they want their old civilization back. When the war is over, perhaps they will simply be free to abandon the last trace of their past, destroy the Memory Archives and be forever what they are now. They are made for war, they can no longer imagine being anything else.

The Doctor announces that he’s heard enough, and tosses the fake detonator to the Commander. The Draconian protests. The Commander exults. The Doctor announces that he has won the game.

The Commander protests that he has the detonator, the Doctor has no more leverage. The Doctor reveals that the detonator was a fake, a bluff, that he fooled the Sontarans.

The Commander demands to know how he can declare victory. The Doctor announces that he knows the identity of the killer, the Rutan spy, and can deliver him. The Commander demands that he disclose the identity. The Doctor has his own demands....

************

Heart is returned to the Tardis, and Diamond taken prisoner, is brought to the Doctor.

The Sontaran Commander, the Draconian, the Doctor and Diamond are taken under guard to the High Council of the Sontarans, where the Doctor announces he will expose the Rutan spy.

The Doctor reveals that the action taken against them means that the Rutan must have been monitoring them. The two acts of monitoring and setting the deathtrap allows the Doctor to triangulate the signals, with Heart’s assistance in the Tardis, producing only a single, possible result. The third member of the Council.

The Doctor produces a complex instrument and waves it at the Council member. The Councillor for a moment deforms into green goo, and then reforms. The guards in the chamber point at the Rutan.

The Rutan confesses, somewhat, but claims that it did not kill the murder victim. The Rutans, when they infiltrate dispose of the victim perfectly. There is no body left behind.

The High Council interrogates the Sontaran to find when he replaced his victim. With that, they review his record and find that after he took over, the quality of his work and success rate against Rutans increased dramatically.

They decide to keep him. The Rutan protests, but his protests are overruled.
The High Council thanks the Doctor for his service, announces his Embassy is over, and has him and Diamond taken prisoner, over the protests of the Draconian. The Draconian’s embassy continues, because his empire is still useful. The Doctor’s time machine, however, will be confiscated and used for the service of the Sontaran empire.

The Commander marches the Doctor to the brigs, trying to console him by telling him that after his execution, his final report will contain very flattering footnotes. The Doctor replies that the Rutan is correct, he was not the murderer. The real murderer is still hidden.

The Commander claims he doesn’t care. As long as the fake Sontaran does the same job and performs optimally, then there’s no problem. If he doesn’t perform optimally, he will be replaced. The Doctor points out that the hidden enemy has access to the Memory Archives if its dumping bodies there. The Commander again doesn’t care, and advises that the Memory Archives are about to be destroyed as a security risk.

The Doctor points out that the Memory Archives may contain strategic information that the enemy has already used. This stops the Commander, who demands the identity of the spy.

The Doctor tells the Commander he can do better. He can reveal why.

The Doctor and Commander and his squadron return to the Draconian ambassador, and interrupts him in conversation with other two members of the Sontaran Council. The Doctor reveals that the remaining members of the Sontaran Council are biologically engineered Draconian agents.

The Draconians, both the Emissary, and his agents, are indifferent. The Sontarans are a race of soldiers. Soldiers need Generals and the Sontarans do not produce Generals. The Sontarans are a race made to be ruled from behind the scenes. If not the Draconians, it will be someone else. The Sontarans are the greatest weapon in the universe, but they are only a weapon to be owned and used.

The Doctor suggests that it might not be so easy to rule from behind the scenes. He calls for Heart, her voice comes over the intercom. The Doctor asks if she has broadcast the conversation, and she replies that she has. All of the Sontarans know that their rulers are actually aliens. Will it make a difference? The Draconian and their agent seem nervous.

The Sontaran Commander clicks his heels and asks for orders. Take the prisoner to termination?

The Draconians agree.

The Doctor and Diamond are taken to an elevator by the Commander. When the doors close, the Doctor asks the Commander where he got the body?
The Commander asks how he knew. Process of elimination, the Doctor replies, both the Rutans and Draconians were too clever to leave a body lying around. That means that it was someone that wanted the body found. And the Commander has been with him every step of the way.

The Commander says that they saved one of the bodies before it could be destroyed, and kept it preserved, just in case. The Doctor asked why. Because, the Commander says, the Draconians were thinking of having the Memory Archives destroyed. The Doctor observes that the Sontarans themselves don’t know that they want the Memory Archives and might destroy it themselves. The Commander replies that they might indeed detroy it themselves, one day, but it will be their choice. In the meantime, perhaps they want the possibility that someday they might be something other than simply soldiers. Now that they are exposed, the aliens dare not touch the Memory Archives.

The Commander says that Generals are useful and have their place, but that war truly belongs to the soldiers. Let the aliens think they rule, but the truth is that it is the soldiers who are running things.

The elevator stops. The Commander holsters his weapon. The doors open and the Tardis is visible in the hallway. The Doctor and the Commander shake hands, the Commander announcing that someday he will kill the Doctor. The Doctor replies that he hopes someday the Commander will be something other than a soldier. The Commander complains there’s no need to be rude.

The Doctor and Diamond enters his Tardis, and it fades away.

 

[Black Belt Jones]

This is a fantastic piece. I especially appreciated the excerpt about the making of the Vienna Robot, as a stage tech myself. That's the sentiment of your average community theater play put on the spot - I can't imagine what the level of sheer anxiety that a television program going through similarly dire straits would be.

Really unique concept, especially in the realm of Doctor Who!