Well there’s a turn up for the books: No sooner have I written a post about how I don’t get on with Season 18, then up pops the first of two stories written by it’s chief architect: Christopher H. Bidmead. Yes, I’m nothing if not contrary.
Generally speaking, me & Mr Bidmead don’t get on. Like I explained when discussing Warrior’s Gate1, I think that his drive (no doubt due to his orders from above) to reduce the comedy and increase the science in his Season goes awry. But take him out of that Season, get him writing for Peter Davison and something magical2 happens: his stories become fresh, funny and very entertaining.
Part of that must be because he is writing for a different Doctor. While Tom Baker was loud and brash (and the plan for S18 was to reign him in), with a new, younger, more vibrant Doctor, the gloves are off a little, and you can indeed have a little more fun. And Davison’s approach to the role is as far removed from Baker’s as you can get while still playing the same character: he is restrained where Baker is bombastic, empathetic where Baker is alien, dashing where Baker is sombre. It’s the ultimate “same software, new case” and just adds to the freshness that pervades this story.
“The Leisure Hive” in 1980 was JNT’s big reboot, with the new titles, new theme arrangement by Peter Howell going alongside a move from film to video; however, it’s Castrovalva that feels more like a fresh start. All those other elements are there, but when coupled with a new Doctor this is what feels like the new start. Tom’s titles will always be the Time Tunnel to me, while Davo’s is the starfield. Castrovalva is at its heart a tale of rebirth, and it really does feel it – as Paddy Kingsland’s terrific score accompanies us through the forest full of new life & up to Castrovalva itself, with its bright whites & pastel colours, you can almost smell the fresh air. If Horror of Fang rock was the perfect Autumn story, this is the perfect Spring one.
Of course, it’s only the second half of the story that has that Spring feel to it – the first half takes place pretty much exclusively in the TARDIS, which is a treat! I always loved getting to see more of the TARDIS interior when I was getting into the show, with that often imagined but never-before-seen land just as exciting as anywhere outside the doors could offer. I think Castrovalva does the interior better than any other story: there’s a sense of space you don’t get with something like Terminus, it certainly looks better than Invasion of Time, and the glimpses of the various rooms3 are thrilling & tantalising. The 80’s will come under fire in certain quarters for how much time is spent inside the TARDIS, but I’m a sucker for it…!
Splitting the story like this is actually a really smart move on the part of Bidmead. Not only does it resolves any pacing issues the story might have – the plot flows very smoothly & never feels rushed or padded – but it also gives us some time to spend with our new Doctor. Sure, he has his moments of post-regeneration confusion (as per Spearhead From Space4, This is The Way) but he doesn’t go for his snooze straight away, we get a good chunk of time with him. Of course it’s not the 5th Doctor as we will come to know him, but most of the character is there as Peter Davison goes through his repertoire of impressions of his predecessors. From there, through his naps in the Zero Room to his gradual emergence close to how we know him: it’s a pretty textbook way of introducing your new Doctor.
With Tegan & Nyssa being relatively new, it’s the (not much) older hands of Adric that acts as our bridge from the old to the new. So, of course, Bidmead separates him & locks him in The Master’s dungeon for most of the episode. Which is probably for the best, all things considered: let’s be honest, no one actually knows what to do with Adric. It’s probably Terrance Dudley who handles him the best in Black Orchid by putting him in front of the buffet & leaving him there5. Anthony Ainley’s Master, who was actually quite sinister in Logopolis, starts his steep descent into pantomime villain here; it’s the first of his many Shit Disguises too. Actually, I don’t know why I’m saying that; watching this on VHS in my early teens I was TOTALLY taken in, and the reveal was an actual delight 😊
I’m not sure that you can use sums to power your Holodeck, no matter what batteries you use6 – I think this is Bidmead taking the idea that maths can change the world a little too literally. But it’s not without merit: there is a beauty in maths, in repeated patterns seen across nature, in geometric shapes – even in the stars. And for once – just this once – Bidmead manages to capture this and get it across on screen. The idea of recursion, threaded throughout the story, tied in to the artwork of Escher that inspires so much of Castrovalva (literally, the name…) absolutely comes to life in a way that his other attempts at hard science don’t. It doesn’t bog the story down, it adds layers and complexity, and a poetry. It’s delightful.
And that’s the word I would use to describe this story: delight. It’s light and airey, it skips along and feels like a wonderful start of a new era full of hope and excitement. It’s also a great introduction to our new Doctor, and proves that Christopher H. Bidmead is much better than I appreciate.
COMING TOMORROW: “What a finely tuned response to the situation…”
- https://skiesfullofdiamonds.wordpress.com/2023/10/11/44-warriors-gate/ ↩︎
- Or “Mathemagical” as my friend Jeff Goddard would call it ↩︎
- A cricket changing room? Just for the fun of it…? ↩︎
- https://skiesfullofdiamonds.wordpress.com/2023/10/12/43-spearhead-from-space/ ↩︎
- Anyone who said Eric Saward knew the best thing to do with him: hang your head in shame…. ↩︎
- AAdric or AAAdric? ↩︎
Skies Full of Diamonds 