Written
by Derrick Sherwin,
From
a Kit Pedlar story
In the fifty-one years
of Doctor Who history, there is no shortage of iconic imagery and scenes:
The Dalek emerges from
the river Thames; the Cybermen emerge from their gigantic tombs on Telos; the
giant maggots writhe; the Sea Devils rise out of the water; ‘Do I have the
right?’; the suave aristocrat pulls his own face off to reveal a hideous
tentacle-covered face beneath; the Cybermen burst out of their tubes and start
to march; the Dalek floats effortlessly upstairs in pursuit of the Doctor – and
so on. There are plenty more, but the one that comes first to mind for fans and
non-fans alike is the monstrous, unstoppable march of a Cyber-army down the
steps of St Paul’s Cathedral. There’s a very palpable shudder in that imagery
that catches the viewer so viscerally – the alien, here at home – that it has
lived in the pop culture memory almost up there with the other handful of
things non-fans have always known about the show – Tardis, police box, Daleks,
exterminate. It’s a scene so iconic it was always ripe for a re-do, as was
proven in the Series 8 finale.
But so famous is the
scene, it’s in danger of being the only
thing people remember about The Invasion.
So given its recent
head-nod in the post-millennial show, let’s take another look at The Invasion,
and see whether its whole extends much beyond that single landmark scene.
First, let’s make one sad
admission: when viewed with a cold, objective eye, The Invasion is at least a
couple of episodes too long. Cyber-creator Kit Pedler had originally submitted
an idea for a four-part story, but Production Team concerns about the generally
late delivery of scripts at the time mandated that it be stretched to a mammoth
eight episodes. And viewed as a whole story, the hyper-inflation shows. There’s
a lot of semi-farcical toing and froing with the Doctor and Jamie looking for
Zoe and Isobel Watkins, and vice versa. There’s a fairly pointless journey from
the factory setting of the beginning to the central London location so crucial
for delivering the St Paul’s scene. And there are a lot of almost-captures and
cunning escapes. It all amounts to little more than a rather more grown-up, and
crucially therefore rather more believable take on the ‘running down corridors’
that habitually used to pad out the middles of stories which made only
tangential sense at best.
But before all that,
we’re already drawn in by a couple of elements – arriving in the countryside
and with a mind to visit Professor Travers of Yeti-fiddling fame, the Tardis
crew are given a lift by a lorry driver, who tells them about the nefarious
activities of International Electromatics (or IE), the world’s leading
technology supplier. Practically on screen, though once the Tardis travellers
have left him, the lorry driver is then shot dead by black-suited IE security
staff. It all makes for a claustrophobic, Orwellian hook, and we feel ourselves
almost in unfamiliar territory for Doctor Who – traditionally, all the bad
things happen out in space and time, or back in our own more barbarous history.
The War Machines and the Web of Fear were at the time relatively lonely
examples of bad things happening in our contemporary world, and something of a
betrayal of the point – the show’s unique selling point was that it could go
anywhere; to have the monsters be here on Earth was flouting the point of
having a Tardis. It also had a harder, more potentially disturbing edge for an
audience of children, some of whom would be playing on the streets of London.
The idea wasn’t to actually traumatise
them – was it?
The Invasion takes us
immediately into that territory where nothing is certain about the cosy world beyond
our sofa. Derek Sherwin and Peter Bryant had an idea to turn the show on its
head – to re-format it as a principally Earth-based serial, like the Quatermass
shows, and The Invasion was eight weeks of trial for the concept. With Patrick
Troughton already scheduled to leave at the end of the season, it was hoped The
Invasion could put the building blocks in place to bring Doctor Who down to
Earth.
The building blocks
largely consisted of UNIT, which appears here in its first fully-fledged
adventure, with Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart firmly in place at its head and
Sergeant Benton credited for the first time, but right in the first episode,
that assassination of the lorry driver pushes home the new tone – realistic
threat, here and now, and how it could possibly be dealt with are the hallmarks
of The Invasion.
It’s important to
remember that this is not ‘Invasion of the Cybermen’ – the Cybermen were due to
be a mid-serial reveal in the days when such things were still possible. If,
however, you’re going to make that work, you need a solid secondary threat to
get you invested in the drama.
Step forward Kevin
Stoney and Peter Halliday (both of whom would go on to be Who stalwarts), as
Tobias Vaughan, the megalomaniac genius who owns IE, and Packer, his brutally
sadistic – but thankfully hapless – henchman. Stoney had already turned in an
epic performance as arch-traitor Mavic Chen in The Daleks’ Masterplan, but here
he delivers something more weighty and menacing. He’s avuncular, suave, and
even charming – as long as everybody does exactly what he tells them to. But
Stoney’s performance bristles with an intensity that makes you not only believe
he could have a world-spanning business empire, but also that he’d have the
planet-sized cojones to make contact with the Cybermen in space, and offer them
the planet, so long as he gets to rule it. This is the crucial point about
Vaughan – he’s more equal to the Cybermen than any stooge before or since
(until, possibly, the arrival of Missy). He hasn’t been elevated above his
capacities by Cyber-technology, he is
the prime mover of their invasion plan. And as you might expect from someone
with that sort of chutzpah, he’s working on a way of controlling them if and
when they decide he’s expendable – he’s getting Professor Watkins, Isobel’s
uncle and friend of Professor Travers, to build him a machine that can, under
the right circumstances, induce emotions in the Cybermen. It can ‘blow them up
with love’ in fact – or at least, send them screaming mad with fear.
Stoney’s performance is
such that he could be quite frightening, were he not undercut – and so he is,
here, by Halliday’s Packer, who seems to have been hired through the same
Incompetent-Henchmen R Us agency to which most 60s Bond-villains resorted. He’s
clearly a degenerate sadist, but the fact that he’s so utterly useless in terms
of actually running security turns the fear of him into a kind of playground
game, the bully rendered almost-sobbing coward when his plans go awry.
As the Doctor and his
friends faff about, challenging Vaughan, evading Packer, and giving nervous
breakdowns to robot receptionists (be honest, you would if you could), they
encounter the Brig and the Boys, who are already watching IE’s activities, but
have no cause to storm the gates of the place. Meanwhile, Vaughan is laying
down the law to the as-yet unnamed invaders, in perhaps the biggest game of
‘I’ll take my ball and go home’ ever played in Doctor Who history.
But it’s when the first
Cyberman is ‘born’ on Earth that the story stops being about Vaughan, and
starts being properly about the invasion. Incidentally, of all the
Cyber-emergences over the years, this one is easily the creepiest – they’re
born out of flexible, pulsating, very organic-looking ‘wombs’ (Womb of the
Cybermen?) rather than the more clinical tubes of the 80s. It’s also likely to
have been as much of a shock in context as the revelation of Cyber-involvement
at the end of Episode 1 of Earthshock was. Once they’re in the story, it’s as
though the big green ‘Go’ button that everyone has been avoiding for the past
few episodes is well and truly pushed and the storytelling becomes far simpler
– there are Cybermen in the sewers, and an enormous Cyber-fleet in orbit. Game
on!
Once the Cybermen are
revealed, defeating them becomes the business of the day and things get
high-octane – the St Paul’s march beginning a full-on street battle with UNIT
troops. And when they find themselves hopelessly outgunned and out-bombed
against the invasion fleet, all the UNIT expertise in the world is no match for
Zoe’s brain – she instantly calculates a way to set off a chain reaction of
explosions in the fleet, and they are wiped out of the sky with little
ceremony, the outer space threat never quite mustering the same oomph as the
street-battle (proving Sherwin’s theory that bringing the danger onto our streets
was an effective way for the show to go). For a story that spends several
episodes in languor, The Invasion then comes to an end of unseemly haste – no
sooner has the fleet exploded than the Tardis crew are being escorted to their
vehicle and leaving.
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