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.

The Fordyce Saga

Cash on Demand (Quentin Lawrence, 1961)

Hammer Films wasn't always synonymous with horror back in the day. Multiple film genres were also produced alongside the splattering of Kensington gore, such as prehistoric adventures, science fiction and war films; its biggest box office success was On the Buses (1971), a film spin-off to the popular television sitcom. 

Quentin Lawrence's Cash on Demand (1961) happens to be the studio's most underrated gem. A lean and tense Brit noir set in a small bank in the south-west of England. Adapted from Jacques Gilles' play The Gold Inside (1960), this heist thriller circumvents its obvious low budget and restricted location with great effect by focusing in riveting character studies for its two main characters, along with some creative plot twists along the way.

The film's major selling point is its two powerhouse performance from Peter Cushing as the dictatorial bank manager, Fordyce; along with André Morrell's devilish crook Col. Gore Hepburn. Both actors had worked together prior to this film, notably in Nineteen Eighty-Four (1954) and The Hound of the Baskervilles (1958). Their familiarity would probably explain the sublime chemistry between the pair since they constantly act and react like Newton's third law of physics. This results in a palpable atmosphere so intense that it leaves a lingering impression long after the film is over. Morrell's duplicitous manner and threats which turns Cushing's cold authoritarian into an emotional wreck makes for a very compelling psychological battle. A prime example of this is Morrell's utterly chilling threat to Cushing early on in the film:

"There are two men at your house. At this moment, your wife has an electrode attached to each side of her head. If you fail to co-operate with us in any way whatever, they will pass a charge through the circuit. It is extremely painful and I'm afraid the effects of it are permanent. She would never recover her wits."

Worth mentioning that Cash on Demand takes obvious inspiration from Charles Dickens' novella A Christmas Carol. Fordyce obviously being Ebenezer Scrooge, while Col. Hepburn would more than likely be the Ghost of Christmas Present. Its Christmas setting is another dead giveaway. Ultimately the viewer is treated to Fordyce being brought to crucial turning point in his life that would forever change him.

Considering it represents a quintessentially British style of heist film; one that's a far cry from the violent, gun-totting crooks you would picture from American crime thrillers, Cash on Demand was first distributed in the U.S. by Columbia Pictures and was not released in Britain until 1963 - two whole years later. Being on the backburner for so long did the film no favours. A huge shame. Still, it's now regarded as something of a long lost classic, where it's championed by the likes of Hammer expert and film historian Jonathan Rigby as one of the legendary studio's best films. Thoroughly agree with his sentiment.

Murder on the Trans-Siberian Express

Horror Express (Eugenio Martin, 1972)

Considering how much of a washout the majority of  last month's film were, it was an utmost necessity for this blog to seek out the comfort blanket of the safe and familiar. Eugenio Martin's 1972 Spanish monster romp, Horror Express is the cinematic equivalent of chicken soup for the soul; or sopa de pollo for the sake of the inclined.

Loosely based on Joseph Campbell's 1938 science fiction novella, Who Goes There? Horror Express shares common DNA with both Christian Nyby's The Thing From Another World (1951) and John Carpenter's remake, The Thing (1982). Actually, both Martin and Carpenter's films are much closer to the creature's literal depicition in certain respects. Christopher Lee's paleontologist character, with the bad ass name of Alexander Saxton, discovers the frozen remains of what's presumably the missing link. It's being transported in a crate, en route to Moscow via the Trans-Siberian Express. Things don't exactly go smoothly however, as while at the train station a thief attempting to rob the crate winds up dead on the platform with hemorrhaged blood exiting his orifices (ooh, er missus!) and his eyes missing  pupils. The body count escalates even further once the train departs to Moscow. Hilariously, in typical British aristocratic swagger, Lee isn't too bothered that his scientific discovery of the century might be behind the deaths of a baggage man and a theif; they're only common riff-raff, innit? Set in the early twentieth century, Horror Express has the air of Hammer and Amicus about it which instantly has me attached to it like an intravenous drip.

The casting choices are phenomenally good, and it goes without saying that having both Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing; for me - the illest acting combo of all time, automatically give the film a sense of prestige, regardless of how ridiculous events might get. Really ought to take a brief detour here and add that The Cush was in a raw state since his wife had recently passed away at the time. This in turn made him want to pull out of the film which had already begun shooting a week earlier. Lee being a true friend managed to persuade him to stay on and give him a necessary positive distraction during his time of grief. The result is some of the best on-screen chemistry exhibited between the pair of legendary actors and one of those rare times where they're working together as a team as opposed to being bitter enemies The rest of the cast aren't slouches either, as they're a recognisable bunch of Euro genre veterans littered throughout the film; including Helga Liné, George Rigaud, Julio Peña and Silvia Tortosa as the flirty Polish countess trying it on with Lee (get in there!). Big fan of Alberto de Mendoza as the Rasputin-style mad monk, Father Pujardov. If that's not enough then the icing on the cake is undoubtedly Telly Savalas memorably ab-libbing his way as Captain Kazan, a maniacal cossack leader introduced in the film's third act. 

What's amazing about Horror Express is how it escalates into such a grand scale of spectacle. It's a gothic adventure which features: a creature that drains brains, slasher style set-ups; Quatermass worthy  science fiction; and a psionically controlled army of zombies. All of this and the fate of the entire human race being fought on an old fashioned steam train hurtling through the Russian frozen wastes. Bizarrely, the with all those factors, the films doesn't go off the rails like one would presume. It works, because the film is delivered with such earnest passion from the cast and crew, that it's too enthralling to remain completely cynical. It also helps that both Cushing and Lee are such veritable masters in their craft at churning the most outlandish and fantastical scenarios, including schlocky dialogue, into convincing realisim; making it all the more a rollicking adventure. They're also in charge of the levity quota; when a policeman accuses that either Lee and Cushing could be the deadly creature, The Cush responds with the best line in the film, "Murder? We're British, you know!". Cut! Print! Classic!

Mark this one up as one of those long lost gems wallowing in public domain hell that rarely gets the props it deserves. Way too good to be some best kept secret by aging horror film boomers; and way too ancient to be appreciated by youngsters with the inability to watch any film over a few years old. A real shame then.

In the same year, Eugenio Martin helmed Pancho Villa (1972) with Telly Savalas playing the titular Mexican revolutionary. Other than using the same model train set featured in Horror Express, the film doesn't interest me in the slightest; what does though, is another Brit abroad themed Spanish horror helmed by Martin in the following year, A Candle For the Devil (1973). That film starred cult British actress Judy Geeson; in what I personally consider, a very prolific career streak at the time. A Candle For the Devil takes the template of Horror Express' Father Pujardov and his religious fanaticism into very engrossing type chiller.

Dada Debaser Bonus:

Mind blown that John Cacavas, the film's soundtrack composer, was an American and not a Spanish bloke like I originally thought. Other than composing that highly catchy eerie whistle motif which played a big part in the film (and subsequently made it onto my Bork Funk Soundtracks list), he was also a friend of Telly Savalas. Mind blown even further that he produced Savalas' debut album, This is Telly Savalas... kicking off his crooner singing phase. Considering we've had a Peter Cushing rave song and a ninety-something Christopher Lee pumping out metal music, I'm not too fussed over actors' musical careers; unless it's J Lo and her beat jackin' of The Beatnuts - she can burn for that travesty. Not masochistic enough to bother checking Telly's music out, but I do find it freaking hilarious that the album cover is a mugshot of him in his cossack uniform from Horror Express while brandishing a gun and a cigarillo, especially since my lasting memory of him in the film is his horrific demise.