Destination Skaro

Dr. Who and the Daleks (Gordon Flemyng, 1965)

Speculation over the fate of the BBC's flagship sci-fi series Doctor Who (1963 - 2025) has been rife recently. Rather than offer my own uninformed opinion to the mix, like everybody else, what better way to side-step it all by revisiting Dr. Who and the Daleks (1965)? The first feature film outing of the renowned space and time traveller.

Adapted from Terry Nation's 'The Daleks', the second ever story in the long running series, the titular doctor (Peter Cushing) inadvertently travels to a mysterious distant planet with his TARDIS (Time and Relative Dimension in Space) ship. The Doctor is joined by his three companions; his two grand daughters, the prepubescent Susan (Roberta Tovey) the beehived Barbara (Jennie Linden), and Barbara's comical boyfriend, Ian (Roy Castle). Die-hard Whovians will no doubt already be seething just reading all this, as Susan is the only real relation of the Doctor in the television series, and the other two characters, are her school teachers. The Doctor also happens to be human in this film. Nerds are on on Def Con One just reading that.

This isn't going to be a run down pointing out all the differences between the televised serial and the abridged film adaptation, otherwise we'll be here all day. It's merely to make aware various elements were either changed or omitted from the televised seven part serial, which was almost three hours long in total, to work with the confines of an eighty-three minute feature film. The screenplay was written by American film writer and producer Milton Subotsky, the creative mastermind of the legendary film company Amicus Productions. While ageing Whovians might be disgruntled with all the inaccuracies inherent in the film adaptation and driven to leaving bitter reviews on IMDb, Subotsky's production does triumphantly showcase the fun aspects of a Doctor Who adventure; something tragically forgotten today.

The plot to Dr. Who and the Daleks is a little reminiscent to H.G. Wells's dystopian science fiction novella The Time Machine. Both concern a time travel adventure set millennia after a post-apocalypse involving two contrasting races. One being the monstrously cruel oppressor; the other being docile, peace-loving hippies. Caught in between both societies, is the Doctor and his companions. The film shows our characters trying to make sense of the planet and the situation. It then shifts into our cast helping to tip the balance. Thus, the Thals, the hippie-like pacifists, described by film critic Kim Newman as "The gayest tribe in the universe", are Wells's Elois. The pepper pot, space Nazis known as the Daleks being comparable to the grotesque Morlocks.

Dr. Who and the Daleks' biggest highlight is its superb production. The film is a visual treat to the eye. The petrified forest under a turquoise light evokes Mario Bava gothic horror vibes. Adorned on the walls of the Dalek city is metallic coloured foil and various lava lamps in the background. They intersperse the omnipresent salmon pink and silver grey rooms and hallways of the city. The Doctor's very own transport, the TARDIS, is a big contrast to the one featured in the television series, as it resembles a mad professor's laboratory with wires hanging everywhere compared to the pristine and clinical one found in the show during this era.

The real success is the beefed up design of the Daleks. The iconic sink plunger is absent on some of the film Daleks, and replaced with a metallic claw. Their bumper trim is much thicker, and the light bulbs on their metallic domes are much larger. The metal armoured casings which house the mutants aliens are in various different colour ranges; reflecting the different ranks in the Dalek hierarchy. The leader is possibly the coolest of the lot with its black and gold casing. It's no surprise that the Daleks would be the obvious enemies involved in the Doctor's first film outing, and not the last either.

Peter Cushing's portrayal of the Doctor might not be canonical to diehard Whovians, but his performance is top notch, regardless. If anything, playing a cantankerous, elderly inventor on an adventure through space and time, is far more believable and entertaining than some of the actual legitimate incarnations of the character in the series. Cushing obviously borrows from William Hartnell's performances of the Doctor, which was the first incarnation of the character at the time. However, Cushing is obviously more animated as the grey haired grand father, as he was still in his early fifties. Cushing would deliver more of the same dotty old grand dad eccentricities in the sequel Daleks' Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. (1966) and the unrelated At the Earth's Core (1976), both of which also Amicus films produced by Subotsky.

Tonally, the film is inconsistent, which, along with its '60s production design, makes it a surreal viewing experience at times. This is due to Dr. Who and the Daleks containing a rather serious plot concerning the very existence of the Thals being critical, but the film offsets it with some light entertainment comedy scattered here and there. It's bizarre seeing Roy Castle performing a Norman Wisdom style slapstick routine trying to open an automatic door, while in another scene, the chilling screams of a Thal can be heard while being devoured by a bog monster. Perhaps the most horrifying sight, is the mutated hand of a Dalek emerging from underneath a plastic shower curtain which was comically used in killing it. But I suppose these tonal shifts make sense, as the youngest grand daughter, Susan is depicted as a child in the film as opposed to her TV incarnation, thus the dread in the series is more subdued. The light hearted tone also balanced out the bleakness of its post-apocalyptic setting aids.

Ultimately, it's the Doctor tricking the Thal leader, Alydon (Barry Ingham) into fighting back against the Daleks, by threatening to turn in his woman to them, that leads to the hippies making a stand. And not a moment too soon, as the Daleks are planning to detonate a neutron bomb which would eradicate the entire planet (it's never mentioned that it's the planet Skaro, but we all know it is, regardless).

Despite personally preferring its sequel (no space hippies in that one), Dr. Who and the Daleks is still a fun sci-fi adventure flick. A gorgeous film that's perfect viewing on a lazy bank holiday afternoon. You can't really go very wrong watching the charismatic Peter Cushing headlining any movie, unless it's the utterly depraved and sleazy Corruption (1968), or when he rapes Veronica Carlson in Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969), or the entirely dreadful Nazi zombie movie Shockwaves (1977) for that matter, but my point still stands regarding the English legendary actor (I think). Watching Cushing pitted against the iconic Daleks in a gloriously colourful and sumptuous looking production, is absolute film magic. Better than modern Doctor Who and who really cares if it's not canonical, if it's this entertaining.

Doctor at Large

The Mask of Fu Manchu (Charles Brabin, 1932)

Came to the shocking discovery that I had not seen Boris Karloff's turn as the diabolical Dr. Fu Manchu before. It could be because I might have mixed Karloff with another of his roles where he's caked up in highly problematic, ethnic make-up, like his private dick Mr. Wong, or more worryingly, the shite I tend to watch has given me brainrot and given me early dementia. My earliest introduction to the character of Fu Manchu were the Harry Allan Towers productions, starring none other than the legendary Christopher Lee as the moustachioed fiend. Loved the first two entries, but they got increasingly worse afterwards. Now, after seeing Karloff's portrayal of the evil genius in Charles Brabin's The Mask of Fu Manchu (1932), I'm kicking myself even more for the confusion, as it's the most outrageous pre-Hays Code films I might have watched thus far.

"I'm a Doctor of Philosophy from Edingburgh. I'm a Doctor of Law from Christ's College. I'm a Doctor of Medicine from Harvard. My friends out of courtesy call me Doctor."

The character of Dr. Fu Manchu was the creation of English author Arthur Henry Ward, under the unfathomably badass pseudonym Sax Rohmer. 'The Yellow Peril', a racially charged example of fear-mongering propaganda from the early 20th century, which implied violent retribution towards Western Imperialism, would appoint Fu Manchu as the chief architect of an epic race war. The mastermind would become the archetypal Bond villain well before Ian Flemming even put pen to paper. The success and popularity of Rohmer's books would result in numerous adaptations, ranging from radio programmes, episodic serials, and prior features such as The Mysterious Doctor Fu Manchu (1929). Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios would deliver the biggest budget and most mainstream effort yet, and it would star the great Boris Karloff, hot from his iconic role in Frankenstein (1931).

"May the curse of the gods descend upon him and is forever who dares enter herein! I don't like to mar the beauty of these doors, but I have my orders, it's got to be done. Mack, give me the axe!

The plot to The Mask of Fu Manchu concerns a British archaeological expedition searching for the tomb of the legendary Genghis Khan. They aren't the only ones looking for the conqueror's final resting place, however. The diabolical doctor seeks to possess both the scimitar and mask of Genghis Khan in order to prove to the horde armies of the East that he is the reincarnation of the ancient ruler. With both these artifacts in his taloned grasps, he'll be able to wage an epic war against the white race. With the news of the dastardly villain abducting, the expedition's leader, Sir Lionel Barton (Lawrence Grant), by Fu Manchu's goons (disguised as Egyptian mummies), British Intelligence agent Nayland Smith (Lewis Stone), arch nemesis of the fiendish mastermind, is dispatched in finding the legendary artifacts with the team and stop Fu Manchu.

 "I have brought you here for great tidings. I am the most unfortunate of men; I have no son to follow me. Therefore, in shame, I ask you to receive a message from my ugly and insignificant daughter."

Not unlike Steven Spielberg's Indiana Jones films, Fu Manchu's devilish torture chambers bring a horror element to what's otherwise a straight laced adventure tale. From being tied to a seesaw above an alligator pit, and to being caught in the middle of metal spikes, these ingeniously sadistic sequences make up for some of the film's obvious plot holes. Sir Lionel Barton's refusal to reveal the location of Genghis Khan's tomb results in him being strapped beneath a giant bell. Karloff utters with sadistic glee to the unfortunate captive, "Seems harmless, doesn't it? Just a bell ringing. But the percussion and the repercussion of sound ringing against your eardrums will soften and destroy them until the sound is magnified a thousand times. You can't move, you can't sleep. You will be frantic with thirst. You will be unspeakably foul. But here you will lie, day after day, until you tell." After what feels like an eternity of torturous campanology to poor old Sir Lionel, the sadistic doctor offers water to the unfortunate archaeologist. It's filled with salt, however. The rotter!

"He is not entirely unhandsome, is he my father?"

"For a white man; no!"

A great rapport exists between Karloff's Fu Manchu and his daughter Fah Lo Suee (Myrna Loy). Both play complete sadists experiencing joy whilst their victims suffer in agonising pain. When the film's rugged hero Terrence Granville (Charles Starrett) presents a fake scimitar to Fu Manchu, he is stripped of his shirt, hung from the ceiling and whipped to orgasmic ecstasy of Fah Lo Suee. Both Karloff and Loy were constantly receiving new dialogue to learn, even whilst in the make-up chair. This would subsequently result in their performances coming across as tongue-in-cheek, attempting to outdo each other. Their shared scenes are some of the highlights of the film. After Terrence's torture, Fah Lo Suee is caught by her father going to kiss the unconscious do-gooder. His hilarious response to her question over Terrence's attractiveness, hints at Fu Manchu possibly being attracted to him too.

"You will think as I think! See as I see! And do as I command!"

Constantly, the film visually impresses with its copious eye catching sets and exotic costumes. Despite how much it reeks of a mere exploitation film, The Mask of Fu Manchu is a surprisingly breathtaking film to look at. Both Karloff and Loy seem to be dressed in a different, patterned silk robe in every scene they're in. At one point, Karloff wears a ridiculous fruit-looking hat that's more fitting for Carmen Miranda, whilst delivering a speech full of hate to an army of Asian and Middle -Eastern fanatics. Favourite set design is the room where Terrence is humiliatingly wearing an adult diaper and strapped to an operating table. It's a vast room with Fu Manchu in surgical garments, administering a mind control drug to him. Standing on pedestals are black subordinates in loincloths resembling Oscar awards. This looks like it belongs in a science fiction set in the future. The sci-fi aesthetic can also be witnessed in another sparse room, featuring the previously mentioned giant metallic spikes. Further evidence, is the room which houses a powerful death ray, turning out to be ever so handy for the final moments in the film.

"Kill the white man and take his women!"

Undoubtedly, the most glaring issue in The Mask of Fu Manchu is its racist content. Ninety years later, it's equally as uncomfortable for lefty pearl-clutchers as it once was for authoritarian conservatives in the past. Horseshoe Theory in full effect. For this humble blogger, one who's watched a veritable smorgasbord of depraved films, and frequented the metaphorical Wild West of early 2000s Rap message boards, The Mask of Fu Manchu is a treasure trove of derogatory stereotyping and blissful ignorance, which could never realistically be replicated today (in the First World at least). Sure, Karloff in garish prosthetic make-up looks like an offensive caricature of an Asian; and yes, both Asian and other non-white racial stereotypes are also featured in the film. However, there's also a strong anti-white sentiment in the film that would even have Netflix execs deeming it extreme, even for them, which at the very least, balances the scales for me. In true racial equality, it offends everyone equally. And even if it didn't, it still wouldn't compel me into spewing some obligatory defensive apology like some over on Letterboxd. I found The Mask of Fu Manchu entertaining and funny.

The Mask of Fu Manchu is an outrageous, yet amusing gem from the pre-Code era. Like one of Fu Manchu's concoctions, the fact that it's over ninety years old and still a potent mix of sex, sadism and racism, makes it cinematic gold for me. A very strong recommendation from me.