Pop Culture: The David Burton 'Doctor Who'

[NCW8]

Maxwell has a point to make. He's not going to let facts stand in his way. Max, like every other principal who comments on or talks about the show is a potentially unreliable narrator.

Of course, but I'd be surprised if he got away with writing like that for a Doctor Who fanzine - particularly the claim that "good people dying along the way" was a relatively recent innovation for Doctor Who. For that matter, the first Doctor could be just as dangerous as the Sixth. In fact, the character arc planned for the Sixth Doctor was very similar to that followed by the first Doctor during the first couple of seasons. So part of JNT's innovations were just as retro as the New Doctor.

I wasn't a particular fan of JNT's changes to the series, so surprisingly, I think I might have found myself enjoying David Burton's Doctor.

Cheers,
Nigel.

 

[DG Valdron]

Of course, but I'd be surprised if he got away with writing like that for a Doctor Who fanzine - particularly the claim that "good people dying along the way" was a relatively recent innovation for Doctor Who. For that matter, the first Doctor could be just as dangerous as the Sixth. In fact, the character arc planned for the Sixth Doctor was very similar to that followed by the first Doctor during the first couple of seasons. So part of JNT's innovations were just as retro as the New Doctor.

I wasn't a particular fan of JNT's changes to the series, so surprisingly, I think I might have found myself enjoying David Burton's Doctor.

Cheers,
Nigel.

Well, he doesn't entirely get away with it, as the sarcastic comment from a reader indicates. Even while it was airing, the show had some proponents. Unfortunately, it did get caught up on the wrong side of fannish politics, and a lot of people who drank from the waters of John Nathan Turner ended up disliking the show, or feeling that they had to dislike it, on general principles.

The Retro aspect of the show was genuine. Both Letts and Bernard were involved during and products of the Pertwee/Baker eras, and that's where they were going to naturally default to. Burton had his own thing, but it fit more with Baker/Pertwee than JNT.

The next few posts will deal with re-evaluation and redemption, death and reconciliation. The American reception, when it finally comes. There is no second season. I might, at some point, do the 13 / 6 proposals submitted to the BBC so we can infer what that would have been like. Hell, Big Finish might do audios. There might be an idea or two left to play with this.

I hope you've enjoyed it.

 

[Porsenna]

I hope you've enjoyed it.

Greatly. Very enjoyable, very entertaining, I kept hoping for as much success for those poor chaps as possible, and did understand where the tragedy of the ending of their adventure comes from. Overall, very... human.

Congratulations.

 

[Orville_third]

Even with the sad tone, I like this story. I hope it someday comes to the USA.

 

[DG Valdron]

North London Science Fiction Society, 1995. David Burton

Ladies, gentlemen, aliens, timetravellers, children of all ages. I want to thank you for having me here at this convention. I’m having a wonderful time, and it’s been grand meeting all of you. The Convention Organizers have invited me to give a talk on the subject of humour in Doctor Who, a subject which was an important part of the New Doctor.

Humour was an important part of my show, but it wasn’t without controversy. I remember, when we started up, Paul Bernard, my Director, he was completely against it.

Now Paul had worked with Jon Pertwee. Not many of you may know this, but Jon was a very talented comedian. He’d been in Carry On, he’d done Worzel Gummidge, he was very sharp with comedy. But when he became the Doctor, he played it absolutely straight.

Paul said to me, "David, the material is outrageous. The only way to play outrageous material is straight on, if you want the audience to believe in it, then you have to believe in it. The minute you wink at them, then they stop believing, and then it’s over."

You look at Jon’s performance, and that’s how he does it. Jon dressed like Dracula, with his red lined cape and his ruffled shirt, a 19th century dandy, he drove an antique car and did something called Venusian Karate. I think in his first serial, he had a wheelchair chase, that’s straight out of the Marx Brothers. But Jon played it all dead serious, and so the audience did too. They went along with it. I give him that.

Paul wanted me to play it that way. But I’m not Jon. I just couldn’t. I wouldn’t. That wasn’t who I was, and I knew if I was going to make my Doctor work, I would have to do him my way.

We had some huge rows about it, Paul and I, about how to play him. Paul came around, but I don’t think he was ever completely comfortable. Ian, though, I don’t think Ian ever forgave me. He thought I ruined the show.

But Jon’s approach, the way he played it, was only one way. You see, it’s all about getting the audience on your side. I’m mainly a stage man, you play with a live audience every time, you know right away if they’re with you or not. The audience has to identify with you, with your character. I was keenly aware of that. They have to like you, they have to see some of themself in you. They have to be willing to buy you, and the story you’re telling them.

Now, the Doctor, here’s this man, and he’s travelling through space and time, and he’s doing all sorts of outrageous things, he’s punching out hitler, and he’s wrestling with alien invasions, and monsters and parallel dimensions. Outrageous stuff. And to sell it, you had to be absolutely serious about it.

And I was - that stuff, the key stuff. Watch the episodes, you never saw me joke about any of that. That was serious. I had to buy it, and the audience had to buy it, and that couldn’t be mocked. That was the framework.

So when I made jokes, I didn’t make jokes about the framework. I made my jokes inside the framework. I never say ‘oh, time travel, that’s ridiculous’ or ‘a phone booth is my spaceship - crazy.’ No, that gets taken seriously, it just is. When the Doctor meets aliens, he doesn’t mock the idea of aliens, he mocked a particular alien, and not the alien itself - its foibles.

You don’t just throw jokes in anywhere. You have to pick your spot. It has to be where it’s going to work. With comedy, timing is everything. Judgement is everything.

When it’s outrageous, then you have to sell it, to go along with it. But sometimes you can’t do that.

If it gets too absurd, then you have to acknowledge it. Remember, you’re always representing the audience, they’re identifying with you. If you have a ridiculous situation, and they see it’s a ridiculous situation, and you don’t accept that it’s ridiculous the audience can’t identify with you. They think you’re a fool.

That was Sylvester McCoy’s mistake. I shouldn’t say this, because Sylvester and I have been civil lately. But Sylvester’s an old hand, he knows his stuff even if his writers didn’t.

They gave Sylvester absurd stories. Not outrageous, but absurd. There's a distinction. Delta and the Bannerman, take one look at that title and run for it. Or Paradise Towers, or that awful thing with the candy monster - what was that? Happiness Patrol. Those were absurd stories, the audience knows its absurd, its over the top, its laughs. You have two choices. You can take that acknowledge it’s absurd and then work with it, and the audience will go with you because, hello, its absurd to them to, so you know you’re on the right page. Or you can play it straight, but if you play it straight, then you’re the fool, and that’s how the audience sees you. You are the fish out of water.

Now, you can do absurd, and you can play absurd straight. But you have to earn it. Carnival of Monsters, that was Jon’s show. Absurd, correct. Miniaturized monsters in a box, bureaucrats bickering with carnies. Absurd comical stuff, and Jon plays it straight all the way through - there he is, trying to talk to chickens. But here’s the thing, Jon’s earned it. He’s played the Doctor through years of adventures, we identify with him, because he’s the man, every step of the way, so he’s got that going for him. Sylvester? First shot out the door, and he gets marked as a buffoon. There’s a difference. The other thing they do, is they’re very careful with Jon and the absurdity, they keep them separate for a long time, it’s introduced carefully. They don’t just slap Jon in the face with the big fish. Sylvester, he went right into the deep end of the pool.

When Sylvester started out, they played him for a fool. There he is, running about in these silly situations, playing the fool, mangling proverbs. What was it, Time and the Rani? Kate O’Mara’s disguised as his companion, and she’s making fun of him, and he’s just mangling proverbs and running about. Bad start. Comedy, but not the right kind of comedy, plays the Doctor as a fool, and no one respects a fool.

Now, Pat Troughton, he does the same thing? Or does he? Pat Troughton’s Doctor plays the fool. But here’s the thing, he isn’t played the fool. You see the difference? Pat’s Doctor is a brilliant man playing at being a fool to get his way. Time and the Rani, Sylvester’s Doctor is actually presented as a fool, that’s what the script has him as. The audience clearly sees that Pat’s not a fool, they see Pat is using foolishness as a tool, so the joke is really on the other guy. Pat may play stupid, but we know the really stupid man is the fellow that Pat is running his game on. The audience is laughing with Pat, not at him, they know he’s laughing on the inside, they’re laughing together.

I think Sylvester was floundering badly until he started getting stories that let him take the character in a different direction, more mysterious, more dangerous. Maybe that’s where it comes from. But the thing is they mishandled comedy with Sylvester.

It’s a trick. You look at how Tom processed comedy. He was actually very funny, and it worked. Tom was funny, not just with Douglas Adams, but all through his run. Right from his first adventure, he’s got a light touch. But here’s the thing, Tom was never played as the fool. He was always someone the audience identified with, rather than laughed at. The audience never lost identification with him.

The other thing with Tom is that he knows when to bring it. Humour is reactive. When Tom had a good line, and he had so many, he was reacting to something, it was a response. He never started out with a joke. Humour, comedy comes as a response, laughter is a reflex. It has to come from somewhere. When Sylvester does a bit, like when he played spoons on Kate O’Mara’s breasts, it’s not funny, it comes out of nowhere, it goes nowhere, the audience goes ‘what was that?’ But the audience doesn’t laugh. It’s not funny.

That’s the thing with humour. You have to be careful with it, you have to respect it, and you have to know when to go with it.

I remember I was strongly criticized in some quarters, by some fans, for my humour. The feeling was that I was undercutting the story. I was trivializing it and making it a joke. Paul Bernard and I had many arguments over it, and he’d eventually see it my way, but he was never completely comfortable. Ian, now he was mortally offended, Doctor Who was practically a religion to him and his first commandment was THOU SHALT NOT LAUGH AT MY RELIGION.

But no. Yes, I made jokes, I made quips, I did bits, yes I looked straight at the camera and spoke to the audience - that’s breaking the fourth wall.
But here’s the thing. I knew when to do it. I knew that there were times you have to be completely straight on, when you have to buy into the story and sell the story. I knew when to be serious.

And there’s times when I knew that I could be funny, that it would work then. I got a lot of flack for breaking the fourth wall, but if you watch, you’ll see. I was very careful with it, sparing. Only once per episide, no more, no less. I didn’t overdo it. And I picked my moment, very very carefully. And you know what? It worked.

I wasn’t the first Doctor to break the fourth wall. Bill Hartnell did it. Tom did it regularly, more or less. The camera would zoom in on him, and he’d stare, and the line would come out, he might as well have been addressing the audience directly. No one ever complained with Tom. It’s a matter of doing it right.

Like Pat, like Tom, humour was a very important part of my Doctor. And it was coming from somewhere. I’ll tell you where it was from. My secret.
My Doctor was a demigod. He could fly around through time and space. He was from a civilization that could juggle black holes around. He was powerful, his civilization was powerful. Compared to that, we’re just monkeys.

But when he finds these monkeys, they’re doing things. They’re building and creating and asking questions, they’re making art and music and science, and he thinks its just wonderful. It’s grains of sand compared to where he’s from.

But that’s okay, because they’re not Time Lords, they’re just little monkeys. But they’re little monkeys who do wonderful and amazing things, who are showing themselves so much better than just monkeys, so much better than anyone could expect of them. And he thinks that’s wonderful. These little monkeys have exceeded everything, and they have this universe of possibility. He’s fallen in love with them, he’s fallen in love with humanity. That’s where the comedy comes from, this love for humanity, these little monkeys who surprise and amaze him and show so much possibility. To the Doctor, they are at once silly and amazing, silly because their best efforts aren’t a speck on where he’s from, amazing in that they’ve accomplished so much on their own terms.

So when my Doctor is being funny, when he’s cracking a joke, underneath it, he’s delighted with people, with the idea of people. Sometimes it’s disappointment, but delight or disappointment, what drives it is love.

 

[Porsenna]

Very good speech - you can feel the embers of the old attritions and the beginnings of a more mature wisdom. Did David Burton have a career after the New Doctor? Did he stick to the convention circuit?

If there was a 2000s revival of Doctor Who a la Russell T Davies, was there ever any reference to the New Doctor?

 

[DG Valdron]

Very good speech - you can feel the embers of the old attritions and the beginnings of a more mature wisdom. Did David Burton have a career after the New Doctor? Did he stick to the convention circuit?

If there was a 2000s revival of Doctor Who a la Russell T Davies, was there ever any reference to the New Doctor?

That would be telling. I will try and get to it.

I do appreciate the feedback. Thank you for your comment.

 

[DG Valdron]

And the feud went on...

"He said that did he? The runny little children's pantomime performer from the thriving metropolis of Sussex has opinions about what's funny and not funny. Looking straight into a camera and pulling a face is the apex of comedic insight, and not... well, amateurish posturing? I see. Well, you must certainly pass on my thanks. If I ever want to spend the rest of my life doing Dinner theater, then I'll look him up for pointers." Sylvester McCoy, in response.

 

[DG Valdron]

Paul, Bernard, December 19, 1996


I never had any problem with Ian, not really. We had our rows on set, my god, we had some rows. I actually banned him from the sets a couple of times. And then once it got so bad, he shut the production down. That’s what people remember.

But you know what, we patched it up each time. That’s one thing I’ll say for our relationship. We’d fight like a married couple all morning. But sometime after that, we’d put it away and we’d get on to working together, because we had to. Because if we didn’t, then the show would be gone, it would all be down the toilet. It was ironic, the further we went, the more desperately we all needed each other, and the harder we fought. But we kept it together.

I think that Ian’s gotten quite a bad reputation as an enfante terrible on the New Doctor, throwing tantrums, shutting down the production in fits of pique, disrupting the photography with a succession of crazy demands and ideas, being a spoiled prima donna. I had my part in that, I suppose, and Barry too. Let’s face it, his relationship with Paul went downhill very fast. But a lot of that reputation was Ian too, he aired way too much of his dirty laundry in public, and it backfired on him badly.

The truth is though, we wouldn’t have had a show without Ian. Take him out of the equation, you have ... nothing. You can say that for David too. Or me. Or Barry. But that doesn't take it away from Ian...

A miracle, really, that we actually got it done. That we got it as far as it did. No matter how well you do, of course, you want a little more. We pined for a second season, and blamed each other when that didn’t happen.

But honestly, it was a miracle that we got as far as we did. It was such an unlikely thing, when you think of it. A series of coincidences - Ian and I knew each other of course, and it was in the air that the BBC wanted to license the series out. There were a lot of groups, David West was one of them I recall, that wanted to buy the rights and produce. I suppose if we hadn’t made it, one of the others would have. None of the others, not even Daltenrays, came to anything, though. So maybe not. Maybe without us, there would have been nothing. At least not until the McGann thing.

But it was all a series of flukes. Meeting David Burton, and thinking ‘He’d make a Doctor.’ A conversation with Ian, and thinking about it and following it up. The meeting at the Grosvenor, there was no reason it should have gone any further than a hundred other meetings I’ve been to that went nowhere. If Ian hadn’t been able to put the money together for Ness, that would have been it. Or with Ness, several times, we were all just ready to walk away and call it a bad job, but somehow, we stuck with it. We put aside our fights, worked around our problems. If David hadn’t seen that magazine clip, if we hadn’t gone to Vienna. If the proposal had gone in a day earlier, or a week late, and caught Peter in a worse mood... All just flukes, unbelievable flukes, we could have derailed at any point, and then no one would have heard of any of us, of it. We’d be on that dust heap of proposals that died along the way.

In that chain of flukes, Ian was right in there. If not for Ian, I don’t know that there would have been enough motivation to set up the first meeting. Ian was the one that reached into his own pockets, and he was the one that got other people to reach into their own pockets so we could do this. Right then and there, that’s essential. And there were moments when Ian was the one who kept things moving forward.

We all had those moments, when we’d all get busy with other things, losing momentum, and someone would pick up the phone and kick it along. Sometimes it was me, sometimes David, sometimes Ian. There were so many moments when it would just stall out, and always someone would come up to push. That’s what I mean when I say it was all a fluke... It could have just died at any of those moments, faded away, the momentum dissipating, one day turning into the next, putting it back a week or a month or a few months and then ... gone. But somehow, there was always one of us who would give it a push at the right time, and it would lurch forward.

Ian was critical at critical times. With Monsters of Ness, my god, we really bit off too much. More than we could chew. All those location shots, and not easy ones. We shot in caverns, can you believe that? And on beaches? How do you light a beach or a cavern? Where do you put the lights? Where do you get the power? Generators? Then what do you do about the noise? What were we thinking?

With the BBC they had a hundred people used to solving these problems day in and day out, who had solved that exact problem a hundred times. But we didn’t have those people, it was just us, me tearing my hair out over every shot. Ian gets a lot of blame for the rows, but let me tell you, I was stressed and short tempered, I have my share of blame. We were both trying to solve problems, and if his ideas were wrongheaded, well, it was a tough one.
It was Ian that was adamant about the costumes, I’ll be honest about that. If it had been me, I would have just taken them, held my nose, and used them... And it would have all been rubbish. We’d have been a laughing stock - Mystery Science Theatre stuff - no one would have taken us seriously, it would have died. I’d probably end up wiping the tapes to save my reputation (chuckles).

But he was completely adamant. He wanted to send them back. He wanted his money back and to hire someone else. He wanted them redone. Of course, that wasn’t possible. He would not budge an inch. Held up shooting for a couple of days. In the end, we worked out this compromise. I think it was David who came up with the Scooby Doo that everyone likes so much. I’ll be honest, the Scooby Doo saved us, it took something that was turning into complete bollocks, and made us seem clever. I wouldn’t have thought of that, it wasn’t the BBC way, I’ll be honest. But what it came down to, was Ian standing his ground.

Same thing with Vienna, 1913. Barry was in with us by then. By that time, I was pretty wary of Ian. We’d been through it with Ness, and I didn’t want a repeat. No luck there. But Ian had this idea, he wanted his robot, and once again, he stuck to his guns. He got it, and to cope with the robot, Barry and I took it up to the next step - where the robot comes from and who. But without Ian, it wouldn’t have been the same show, not at all. I think that the way we had it originally was just fine, but the way it turned out, nothing wrong with that.

It was Ian that brought in the Sontarans, you have to give him that. And that Draconian. That was for me, actually. The Draconian license was a gift to me, that tells you something about the sentimental way he thought sometimes. Completely inappropriate for production, but there’s something to say for it.
Three of our principal serials - and Ian was a key part of the creative process, the production process, for each. You would not have had it without him. It would have been completely different. I can honestly say, we wouldn’t have been as good, without him. Or considering what people say about us sometime, maybe that’s not the right words... Hmmm. Without him, we might have been worse. It would have been different, certainly, not the same show at all.

That doesn’t take away from my work, or Barry’s or Paul’s. You look at Barry’s serial, that’s completely his, and it’s tops. But we were all a part of it, and Ian was a part of it.

Ian was certainly critical for the business side of it. I know he put a lot of his own money into it, and lost some of it. He was one of the ones who lined up the financing. Give him that. And he was the one who stuck it out with me, pursuing BBC Enterprises. That saved us. We didn’t make money off the VHS deal by any means, but it provided a trickle of revenue that we used to negotiate our debts and resolve things with our creditors. I think we paid out something like twenty cents on the dollar... Do I have that right? We use pounds here, so its tricky to translate.

We’ve all heard the round robin for the second season - Ian wanted to work with me again, but was adamant that we replace David. David intended to keep Ian because the financing was essential, but I was out. And I saw David as vital, but wanted shut of Ian. Barry, of course, wanted shut of all of us. But the truth is, if we’d had another go round, I think all of us would come back.

It ended, we were tired and bitter and looking to blame each other. It didn’t turn out the way I wanted. Not the way any of us wanted. I think that we were each of us, angry about that. There was disappointment and heartache.

But it’s been a few years now, you get some distance. Maybe perspective helps. I didn’t accomplish what I wanted. But we accomplished something. It’s funny, I can watch it now, and the parts that give me the most pleasure are the parts where I can see them, where I can think to myself ‘This is David’s bit’ or that came from ‘Ian’ or ‘Here’s Carol.’ It’s seeing my work mixed with theirs and maybe seeing something that was a bit greater than the sum of its parts, a collaboration.

It wasn’t fun at the time, it didn’t feel like collaboration, felt more like fighting. But let me tell you about giving birth to elephants sometimes.

 

[DG Valdron]

PAUL BERNARD
June 20, 1929 - September 25, 1997

Rest in Peace
You are missed​

 

[DG Valdron]

David Burton, December, 1998


I remember attending Paul’s funeral. I hadn’t seen him in a year or so. We’d spoken on the phone though and it was always civil enough. Paul and I got along the best, after the show ended, the rest of them, we weren’t on speaking terms. Except for Barry and Paul, of course. And Ian and Paul.
Well, now that I think of it, I think one of the rest of us were on speaking terms with each other. Except for Paul. Paul was the one that we were all on good terms with. Funny that.

Everyone was there at the funeral. From the show, from the BBC show, from stage. Paul had a lot of friends. That’s something isn’t it. He lived his life as a gentleman, and when he passed, everyone who had known him... well, we all knew someone good was passed out of the world. We were all a little poorer for it.

I made a special trip in, I don’t remember the Church, St. Marks, I think. I saw Ian there, and Barry, at the service. They were just happened to be seated in the same pew. Ignoring each other. I came over, and I said "I guess the four musketeers are three now." They both smiled, not real smiles, just the sort of smile you give when you’re acknowledging someone is trying to be nice, even if you don’t feel it. But they shoved over.

It rained at the funeral, not hard, but we all needed our umbrellas. Somehow, we all ended up just standing together for the procession and the burial.
When it was over, we shook hands.

I had a trip back to Sussex, and it was cold and wet and I didn’t want to light out right away. It was miserable enough. I wanted a few minutes warmth before I hit the road. So I asked them to join me for a drink. A glass of wine in memory of Paul.

I could see Barry didn’t want to. But Barry was always such a gracious man, he couldn’t say no. So he said, ‘one glass, for Paul.’

Ian was just watching us. I think he expected a ‘fuck off, fat boy’ or something. He looked lonely. I said ‘the three of us, for Paul.’ And there was a moment, when I could see him both wanting and not wanting too. I wasn’t his favourite person.

But he threw in.

So we went off, and just sat. It was awkard at first, just sitting there. But we got to talking about Paul, and it warmed up a little. We started talking about the show, and one glass of wine turned to another. We remembered the good times, and then it was funny, we remembered the bad times too, but they weren’t so bad. I guess time and distance softened it. The rows we had, they were almost funny, fondly remembered, all the sting out of them. All those arguments, the struggles, the fights. It was just over and done with, you know, and we didn’t have to keep on fighting the old battles again. We could move on.

We let it go. What’s the point of holding on to anger. Whatever it was, good and bad, it was all done and finished. Stick to the good memories.
I remember, Barry apologized to Ian for that big blow up. I can’t count the number of times that Barry apologized for that over the years, it really did bother him. But this is the first time I that Ian accepted it. I mean not the ‘screw you, I accept your apology’ sort of thing, but really accepted it, accepted Barry’s contrition and forgave him. You could feel the weight finally being lifted off both of them. It wasn’t big and sloppy, it was just a quiet moment, but I felt honoured to be there for it.

We both acknowledged that Ian had made a real difference, had made contributions to the show. That was such a big deal to him. To finally get that validation.

It was a big deal for each of us, to finally come back to it after all these years, to these people you’d worked along side of and fought, and to feel that respect and affirmation from each other. I’d fought with Barry, Barry had fought with Ian, Ian had fought with me. We couldn’t give an inch back in those days, it would have felt like a surrender to say ‘good job.’ But finally, we were saying it, acknowledging it to each other, appreciating what each of us had done, had brought. It mattered, I'm not sure why that was so hard to say before then.

In the center of it had been Paul, the beating heart of the show, maybe fighting with and along side of all of us, but somehow, he had been keeping us all together. No matter how bad it got, we kept going together, and Paul had been such a huge part of that. We missed him.

We took a lot longer than we figured that afternoon. There were many drinks for Paul. I ended up overnighting in London, too drunk to drive. But when we finished and stood up to go I think we all felt the better for it. We might never speak again, but it was okay, we had a sense of resolution, the three of us.

That’s the thing with good men. You don’t understand how much they meant, how much they mattered, until its over.

 

[DG Valdron]

David Burton, March, 2003


It’s funny. We never officially aired in the States, but that’s where we caught on. I remember, now and then I’d get fan letters from the United States. Not often, but once in a while. It was bemusing. Apparently, videotapes from England, third generation, fifth generation, what have you, were circulating.

Then for a couple of years, we had a VHS release. Well, it wasn’t officially in the United States. But apparently, there was some major smuggling from Canada going on, let me tell you. Insane stories, Canadian’s driving down to conventions with piles of tapes hidden in the boots of their cars, and then just bootlegging them at conventions, for four or five times the retail price. Isn’t that marvellous.

Every now and then an American or Canadian travelling over would look me up. I mean, astonishing, right. Of course you’d take them out for a pint. Travel all that way? Of course you would.

Then one day, I get this phone call, from some organizer for a convention. I think it was in Chicago. They’re going, ‘can you come to our convention’ and I’m going ‘Jesus!’

So there I am trying to explain to this lad, in the politest possible terms, about this thing called the Atlantic Ocean, and how it’s just not feasible for me to pop into my car and have a whip round to see them, much as I’m flattered.

And he says they’ll pay my air fare AND my hotel.

Well, I’ll tell you, my bags are packed and in the boot of my car before he finishes talking!

That was my first American convention, by the way. And it was grand, grand I tell you. I mean, I didn’t have to pay for a meal. People were lining up for my autograph. I had a panel, I walked into this room, capacity 200 and it was filled, there was standing room. I walked through the door, and I had an ovation.

The Americans you see, they got me. They got the humour, the fun of it. The British fans, a lot of them didn’t. But the Americans they embraced it. Different culture, I think that they grew up with Star Trek and Star Wars, Close Encounters and Aliens and ET and all this high techno stuff. Just a whole different standard for special effects. If you were going to like Doctor Who, then automatically, there was going to be forgiveness for shortcomings.

In fact, they liked it for the shortcomings, for the fact that we weren’t blowing up a planet every twenty minutes, but telling stories and having interesting characters and dialogue.

They got the humour. They loved the humour. They appreciated it. American sci fi, it’s all so humourless. It’s grim, it’s serious, it’s the fate of the universe, and that’s no lauging matter. So when they came to something that had a little wink to it, well, that was new to them, it was fresh. I think it’s what made them forgive the lack of polish and special effects, because, you know, we were being clever and sly and funny.

I think that’s why the movie failed in the United States, that McGann thing. They forgot the slyness, the cleverness that Americans loved about Doctor Who. That was Hollywood for you, the first thing they did when they got their hands on Doctor Who... they stripped out the the thing they loved, the cleverness. Kind of ironic.

Sometimes I think, what a missed opportunity. If we’d have had a chance to sell to the States... Well, they loved us, I was Tom Baker verstion 2 over there. If we’d sold there, we’d have had a second season, and a third. Hell, we could have had seven. Everything totally different. But the one thing the BBC, or BBC Enterprises was hell bent, was that we were never ever coming near the American market. They shot us, and themselves, in the foot.

I can’t complain though. You look what they did to the poor Daltenreys. How many millions of pounds did those lads sink into trying to get it done, and at the last minute, BBC Enterprises stabs them in the back. BBC and BBC Enterprises embraced them wholehearted, and they came away poked with nothing but stab wounds. They gave us the back of the hand, and we got a whole season. Funny how it turns out.

The best time? 2001, I don’t even have to think about it. We were all over there. I got to meet a lot of the boys - Jon had passed away by that time. Pity, Jon was always so gracious, the grand old man of the Doctors fraternity. Tom was always cordial, you know, but aloof. Peter I met a few times, it was a little wary at first but we warmed up nicely. Colin, Colin and I got along like a house on fire. Maurice was good, very funny man, dead on impressionist - he can do me better than I can. Sylvester and I are fine, all that rubbish in the press about us, complete exageration. There’s the Doctors for you.

I’m not one of the classic BBC Doctors. But you know, that’s all right. I’m one of those other Doctors. Well, that’s a group that includes Peter Cushing and Maurice LaMarche, Rowan Atkinson and Richard Grant... That’s a pretty good company.

Where was I? Oh yes, 2001. That was the big year. There was this convention in Los Angeles, and they were flying everyone out. You wouldn’t believe it. The numbers, the people, the costumes. Anyway, Ian had come out. I think he might have had other business in California. Or maybe someone talked him into it. Or maybe he just wanted to come.

Anyway, there was a special event - a lot of special events. But this one... Someone had booked a theatre, a real theatre, for a special showing of Vienna, 1913. Well, of course, Ian and I had to attend. We were the belles of the ball you might say, the stars of the night. Well, technically, I was the star onscreen, but you know what I mean.

I thought ‘oh crap, he’s just going to spend the whole time grinding his teeth, and I’ll be stuck sitting next to him.’ And in the front row, no less. It was one of those mixed blessings, you know. But there it goes. The theatre is packed, completely packed. Not a free seat. And the usher leads us to the front, where there are a couple of seats roped off, just for us. Then the convention organizer makes a speech, and we all go up and say a few words. Then we sit down, and the lights go down, and it plays.

I can see Ian gripping the arms of his seat, like it’s the chinese water torture. I’m thinking, poor bastard, he’s not going to enjoy this. I’m also thinking ‘poor me, because I’m not going to end up enjoying it either, sitting next to him.’

But then, as it plays, I hear it, something I’d never expected to hear.

He chuckled. And as it goes on, he starts to relax more and more. And he starts smiling, he laughs at the right spots, at first you know, holding back. But warming up, you could feel him warming up. The audience is loving it, they’re enthralled. You can feel the energy, they jump when they’re supposed to be surprised, and they laugh or smile at the right times, and its funny and smart and moves right along, and Ian, he’s right there with them.

At the end of it, he turns to me and he says, and there’s tears in his eyes, he’s grinning, he says to me "David, I get it now. I get it." I say "It’s yours, Ian, this is what you helped make." And he says "Its ours, David, we all did it together."

We get up to take a bow. People are cheering. There’s a standing ovation. We lift up our arms, we’re like rock stars. We hug. We turn back to the crowd.

Have you ever been witness to the finest moment of a person’s life? That moment, that drags them from the depths of hell, to the heights of heaven? Where they find that all their struggles come to something, that it was finally, for the first time, it was finally worth it. I’ve been privileged to be able to bear witness to that moment.
　

 

[DG Valdron]

The New Doctor -
Special Edition Anniversary Release - 2003
​

Disk One

* The Monsters of Ness, in 2 parts - BBC Broadcast Version.
* Commentary - David Burton, Ian Levine.
* The Monsters of Ness, in 2 parts - Original Demo Version
* Commentary - David Burton.
* Documentary - Ian Levine, the Man Who Loved Who.
* Documentary - Millenium Productions and the New Doctor.
* Documentary - Production Diary. The Making of Monsters of Ness.


Disk Two

* Vienna, 1913 - in 3 parts, BBC Broadcast Version.
* Commentary - David Burton, Ian Levine.
* The Original Version- Vienna, 1913 - in 2 parts, from original script, reconstructed by Barry Letts, based on Director's notes of Paul Bernard.
* Commentary - Barry Letts
* Deleted and Unused Scenes - Vienna, 1913.
* Commentary - Barry Letts.
* The Doctor Meets Leon, Addie and Joe - original Viennese short, shot by Paul Bernard, 14 minutes.
* Commentary - David Burton.
* Documentary - David Burton as the New Doctor.
* Documentary - Barry Letts and the making of a season.
* Documentary - Production diary.


Disk 3
* Secret of the Sontarans - in 2 parts, BBC Broadcast Version
* Commentary - Carol Todd, David Burton, Ian levine.
* Documentary - Vormics - the evicted aliens; production
drawings, models, costumes, and interviews with writers,
designers and props people.
* Time Parasite, one part, BBC Broadcast Version
* Commentary - Carol Todd, David Burton.
* Volcano - in two parts (including the lost episode) BBC Broadcast Version.
* Commentary - David Burton, Barry Letts, Judy Lannister.
* Documentary - Judy and Jenny, Heart and Diamond.
* Documentary - Paul Bernard - In Memoriam.

 

[Orville_third]

That post was amazing. It's good to see the differences appearing to get ironed out, and the show getting some respect. Nice tip of the hat to the Nelvana storyline too!

 

[NCW8]

That’s the thing with humour. You have to be careful with it, you have to respect it, and you have to know when to go with it.

I remember I was strongly criticized in some quarters, by some fans, for my humour. The feeling was that I was undercutting the story. I was trivializing it and making it a joke. Paul Bernard and I had many arguments over it, and he’d eventually see it my way, but he was never completely comfortable. Ian, now he was mortally offended, Doctor Who was practically a religion to him and his first commandment was THOU SHALT NOT LAUGH AT MY RELIGION.

But no. Yes, I made jokes, I made quips, I did bits, yes I looked straight at the camera and spoke to the audience - that’s breaking the fourth wall.
But here’s the thing. I knew when to do it. I knew that there were times you have to be completely straight on, when you have to buy into the story and sell the story. I knew when to be serious.

And there’s times when I knew that I could be funny, that it would work then. I got a lot of flack for breaking the fourth wall, but if you watch, you’ll see. I was very careful with it, sparing. Only once per episide, no more, no less. I didn’t overdo it. And I picked my moment, very very carefully. And you know what? It worked.

I'd say that David Burton is more or less accurate in his analysis of humour in Doctor Who. Not surprisingly, he's less accurate in judging his own performance. While the various actors who played the Doctor did occasionally break the fourth wall, it was done sparingly and mostly for dramatic reasons (e.g. Bill Hartnell's soliloquy about the companions leaving him). He deserved to be criticised for doing it every episode for comedic purposes. He'd need to be as good an actor as Ian Richardson to get away with it.

The descriptions of Paul Bernard's funeral and Ian and David's attendance of the Doctor Who Convention were very well done. The way that opinion of the series has improved with time is very realistic.


Cheers,
Nigel.

 

[Porsenna]

And now I can't help wondering what happened to the mouse. I take it the actresses playing Heart and Diamond retired from acting. It would also be fun to see your take on what TTL's Ian McKellen thinks of sci-fi, Doctor Who and his involvement.

Also, I was going to say something about being totally able to see David Tennant say he inspired himself from David Burton but after all, butterflies. There could be very different actors playing the Doctors, and it might not be Russell T Davies leading the reboot, but someone more BBC-conservative, more stodgy.

Last point, DValdron, I noticed you don't often write in Ian Levine's "voice". Any particular reason for that? I'm really curious.

 

[Porsenna]

I'd say that David Burton is more or less accurate in his analysis of humour in Doctor Who. Not surprisingly, he's less accurate in judging his own performance.

He's only human after all I have no doubt that's what he intended, but whether he accomplished it is another story.

Anything on his post-Doctor career? Not much of one, I reckon, or being invited to a convention with expenses paid wouldn't be such a huge deal.

 

[DG Valdron]

And now I can't help wondering what happened to the mouse. I take it the actresses playing Heart and Diamond retired from acting. It would also be fun to see your take on what TTL's Ian McKellen thinks of sci-fi, Doctor Who and his involvement.

Judy and Jenny Lannister didn't entirely retire from acting. Through the course of the season, they'd improved considerably, mostly because of David's efforts. But David himself had limits as an actor. As noted, actually turning in a disciplined performance seemed like a lot more work.

After the show, they mostly switched to modelling, and took small roles based on their novelty as twins. There was a spell where they did some racy lingerie stuff for a men's magazine and suggested that the relationship with David was a bit closer than was proper, which upset David. But it was ultimately harmless.

Jenny moved on. Judy stuck with it a few years more, continuing with some supporting roles on television and bit parts in movies. They remembered David and some of the crew fondly.

As for Ian McKellen, he enjoyed himself. They treated him like a rock star on the set. Paul Bernard and Barry Letts struck him as thoroughly professional. The role was camp, and he liked the opportunity to turn it up to 11. His career was mature enough that a couple of weeks of shooting in the early 90's made no discernible impact.

Also, I was going to say something about being totally able to see David Tennant say he inspired himself from David Burton but after all, butterflies. There could be very different actors playing the Doctors, and it might not be Russell T Davies leading the reboot, but someone more BBC-conservative, more stodgy.

The primary effect of the Millenium Production for the BBC was merely to reinforce convictions. Doctor Who was a show whose time had passed, although they could never say that out loud. It also discouraged the BBC from wanting to license the TV series, the Millenium experiment was seen as unsuccessful from both a ratings and creative standpoint. In a minor sense, it was used as an argument in opposing John Birt's efforts to shake up the BBC.

But because the series took place outside the BBC, it really didn't have a significant impact on careers and politics within the BBC. It didn't significantly affect the Daltenreys project or its demise, or the Fox movie with McGann.

It might have had some minor effect on Richard E. Grant's turn as the Doctor, for BBCi. Scream of the Shalka might have started out slightly lighter, and there might have been more commitment - Blood of the Robots possibly got made.

OTL, the various intervening projects - the failed movies and specials, Dimensions in Time, the McGann Movie, Curse of Fatal Death and Scream of the Shalka didn't seem to have any significant impact on the process of reviving the series in 2004/2005. The only exception to that, that I can think of was Moffet's involvement with Curse, but he wasn't first generation.

I think that mostly the series revives on more or less the same terms and timing, with Russell T and the original group.

Tenant is not guaranteed. But he's a very good bet. This is a man who really wanted to be the Doctor, enough so he talked himself into a small role on the Shalka. But there's a chance he might have been butterflied by Hugh Grant.

For my thinking though, I didn't contemplate any substantial butterflies.

Last point, DValdron, I noticed you don't often write in Ian Levine's "voice". Any particular reason for that? I'm really curious.

Ian was the emotional through line, the emotional core of the story. For Paul Bernard, it's a project. For David Burton, an opportunity. For Ian Levine, it was a dream. So we needed a bit of distance from the subject. Stepping back from Ian and describing his progress through other peoples eyes is a more effective way to describing his journey.

 

[Porsenna]

Tenant is not guaranteed. But he's a very good bet. This is a man who really wanted to be the Doctor, enough so he talked himself into a small role on the Shalka. But there's a chance he might have been butterflied by Hugh Grant.

Hmmm, interesting. How do you see Grant in the place of Ecclestone as the Ninth Doctor for two or three years, with Tennant to follow him?

Oh, and by the way, what happened to the "promising young choreographer" that Carole Todd found? Is it this guy, by any chance?

 

[DG Valdron]

He's only human after all I have no doubt that's what he intended, but whether he accomplished it is another story.

David's level of humour varied through the series. It was most pronounced in Monsters of Ness.

It's also quite prominent in Vienna, 1913, by that time, David had had months to conceptualize his character, had formed very strong ideas, and was deeply engaged - Vienna, 1913, was also the scene of the major power struggle between the players, so just by playing consistently, he managed to get his own way. Paul's best efforts simply restrained his excesses and kept him from going over the top.

His comedy was toned down in Secret of the Sontarans. Carole Todd simply handled him better than anyone else. She knew how to give him just enough head to keep him happy, and to keep him on the straight and narrow for the rest.

Volcano is played almost completely straight - at no point does he break the fourth wall in either of those episodes, and his humour is mostly absent. Basically, by that time, he and everyone else was exhausted, he was intimidated by Barry Letts, and the subject matter was too serious. Monster of Ness lent itself to fun, Volcano didn't.

Generally, the rule with David is that left to his own devices, he'll just go too far. His comedy is most effective when he's got some restraints on him.

Anything on his post-Doctor career? Not much of one, I reckon, or being invited to a convention with expenses paid wouldn't be such a huge deal.

Because David is not given to exaggeration or hyperbole for comedic effect, or to reinforce or emphasize his point.

David, by the way, is a much bigger Doctor in the United States than he is in England. Partly that's because of the 'decade of scarcity' where the Millenium production became a legendary lost season, accessible only through hard won bootlegged tapes. Partly because his light touch went over very well with American audiences enthralled with Baker. And Partly because he embraced it whole heartedly, he made a lot of trips to the states for the convention circuits, hung with fans, and found it a perfect forum for his brand of charm. The American audience loved him, and he loved them right back.

Post-Doctor, he mostly returned to the stage. His career was a bit more successful, more starring roles, as opposed to supporting characters. He did some children's television, a couple of commercials. He did a little better, but it wasn't earth shaking.

He wrote a book about his experiences as the Doctor, retained a ghostwriter. It was an on-again, off-again thing. That's where most of the interviews come from. But it didn't get published until 2005. By that time, he'd mellowed out a bit, and his more balanced views probably made it a better book.

One 'highlight' was 'Dective Hoot and the Case of the Missing Bird' - a series of shorts where he played a comic version of a Philip Marlowe style Detective searching for the missing sister from an exotic dancers duo. There were a number of New Doctor allusions. Hoot's office phone didn't work, so wherever he went, he was perpetually ducking in and out of red phone booths to make calls, to spy or to hide, to the point where he'd call them his office. Hoot's search, through different shorts, took him through a Medieval Renaissance Fair/Society for Creative Anachronism; an Animatronic dinosaur exhibition; a Hospital; and a Mars Mission Training Landscape/Bio dome. There would invariably be scantily clad women, and a chase. The shorts were eventually compiled into a movie, it was broadcast on ITV a few times, and a proposed series never went anywhere. Dective or 'Detective Hoot' was a good example of where David's unrestrained comedic impulses took him, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

I might do a detailed outline of Hoot as a postscript. That and the Big Finish versions of seasons 2 (the 13 episode proposal) and 3 (season 3 being the alternative 6 episode proposal), are really the only things I'd like to play with as addendums at some point.

But really, the story is organically complete at this point.