Anderthon: Rootin' Tootin' Highfalutin

Four Feather Falls
episodes 21-26

Election Day

Tex has to stand for re-election to the post of sheriff. To an Englishman, used only to voting for politicians every few years, the extent of the democratic process in America – where even public officials like sheriffs and judges need to be elected – has always fascinated. Particularly in the case of a sheriff – presumably, you need to have a candidate who wants to do the job and has some degree of competency for it – and one imagines that popular incumbents often get returned unopposed. Indeed, in some small close-knit communities, one supposes there must be elections where there aren’t even any challengers standing. It looks like this is about to happen in Four Feather Falls too, as everyone nominates Tex Tucker for the post. (Ma Jones comments that it’s a waste of time, just something more for men to do a lot of talking about.) But then Fernando throws a spanner in the works by nominating Pedro for sheriff. It’s another crazy plan of course, seemingly motivated by the idea that if Pedro wins, they’ll be able to move out of their shack and into the jailhouse.

The plan involves Fernando stuffing a replica ballot box with votes for Pedro, and switching it for the real one. They enlist the help of Big Ben, putting aside their usual animosity with the promise that having Pedro as sheriff will make life easier for the bandit community as a whole. So while Ben causes a distraction, Fernando and Pedro switch the ballot boxes. (Election fraud in America? Who’d have thought it? I wonder if George W Bush’s cronies ever thought of this one…) Unfortunately for the bandits, Jake and Dusty spot what they’re up to, and Jake sends Dusty to fetch Tex. (Although Jake talks to the dog and expects him to understand, Dusty only responds to him with barks and growls – since as we’ve established, he can only actually talk to Tex.) Tex races after Big Ben, who’s making off with the real ballot box. But meanwhile, Pedro is declared the winner of the election, as every vote counted is for him – which puzzles the townsfolk, many of whom know they voted for Tex. (See, they’ve overdone the extent of the fraud and it’s lost all plausibility. They should have kept the votes more balanced and let Pedro win by only a narrow margin.) When Tex returns with the real ballot box, he’s able to grant the bandits their wish to live in the jailhouse – although they weren’t expecting it to be behind bars.

Gun Fight on Main Street

A man called Cass Morgan arrives in town. When he meets Big Ben coming out of the saloon, he pulls a gun on him and there’s a tense stand-off. Ben says he has no quarrel with Morgan – but Cass tells him he has a score to settle with Ben’s old partners, Ike Tobin and Billy Pindo. Ben says he hasn’t seen them for years, but he’s looking forward to them catching up with Morgan. He wants to be there when they kill him! Ben goes back to his shack, where in fact Tobin and Pindo are currently hiding out, and passes on the message. Meanwhile, Tex gets back to town. It turns out Cass Morgan is an old friend of his, and they talk over old times. Then Cass explains why he’s really here. He’s after Tobin and Pindo for holding up a stagecoach and killing the driver – who just happened to be Cass’s kid brother. Tex is not keen on private vendettas being fought in his town, but he’s unable to intervene in anything that happens outside Four Feather Falls. Tex goes to send a couple of telegraph messages, and while he’s waiting for the reply, Tobin and Pindo arrive in town. They meet Cass in the main street, and guns are drawn. Tex arrives in the nick of time, guns drawn on both parties in a tense stand-off. He’s had his reply now, and knows that Cass Morgan himself was the one who held up the stagecoach – unaware that his brother was the driver. He’s tried to divert the blame onto Tobin and Pindo by spreading his story that he’s hunting them for his revenge. In another tough choice for the lawman, Tex has to put their old friendship aside, and take Cass in.

Chance of a Ghost

Mr Jackson the bank manager is acting as an agent for the owners of the Eureka mine, and trying to negotiate its sale to one Zeke Harmon. But Harmon will only offer about a quarter of what the mine is worth. It’s clear that they’re not going to make a deal, so they head back to town. That night, two ghosts walk the mine tunnels and frighten away the nightwatchman. The ghosts are actually Pedro and Fernando with sheets over their heads. (Fernando, typically not thinking things through, continues to smoke his cigar under his sheet, setting fire to it and scorching his face.) Anticipating the plot of every Scooby-Doo episode by nearly a decade, they have in fact been hired by Zeke Harmon to make everyone think the mine is haunted, thus driving away the miners and forcing the price of sale right down. Having been paid off already, Pedro spies an opportunity to make even more money when Mr Jackson offers a reward to anyone who can rid the mine of ghosts – all they have to do is stay away and they’ll be no ghosts in the mine! As ever, Dusty overhears them talking and alerts Tex. Confronting Harmon at the mine, Tex runs the crooked businessman out of town. But Pedro, discovering that the bag of money he’s been given actually contains buttons, takes over the task of chasing Harmon off himself!

Once a Lawman

This week, Big Ben has hooked up with the Boysie Gang, who are continually robbing Jackson’s bank. Although Tex tries to give chase, he quickly loses the trail and seems to give up. It would appear that his failure to stop the gang has really demoralized the sheriff – and what’s worse the townsfolk seem to have lost confidence in him as well. (This seems to be some sort of comment about how fickle the public can be in their support for officials/politicians.) The ringleader of the dissent is Mr Jackson, and his very public criticisms finally force Tex to hand in his sheriff’s star. He leaves town the next day, leaving the people to wonder quite what they’re going to do until a new sheriff can be appointed. Tex doesn’t get very far before he’s captured by the Boysie Gang. He tries to do a deal with them, telling them he’s finished with the ingrates in Four Feather Falls – and that he’ll help them steal the next consignment of gold from the bank. Despite disagreements between Big Ben and the Boysies over this, the gang eventually accept Tex into their ranks. (But then Ben’s relationship with the Boysies is somewhat antagonistic – he really knows how to pick his partners!) This is all played straight and seriously, leaving the viewer to think that Tex really has gone rotten. The gang hold up Mr Jackson and Twink carrying a shipment of gold, and a desperate shootout ensues. When Tex appears, magic guns and all, to tip the balance, Jackson starts laughing – Tex turns his guns on the gang, having finally caught them red-handed, and Jackson reveals that the whole thing was a plan he and Tex cooked up to outwit the bandits. Which is a relief. This is another really tough episode, with Tex out on a limb in a dangerous situation.

Land Grabbers

The rancher Abe Weeks is in trouble again – this time one of his neighbours, Morg Fenton, wants to buy Abe’s ranch to expand his own land. Abe doesn’t want to sell, but this doesn’t worry the unscrupulous Fenton, who pays Big Ben and Red Scalp to help him shoot up Abe’s homestead, in an attempt to frighten the rancher into selling up. Abe manages to make a break for it, and flees to Four Feather Falls. But Tex tells him as the ranch is outside the town’s boundaries, there’s not a lot he can do about it. Nevertheless they hatch a plan. Tex buys the ranch from Abe (presumably for a nominal fee, but we don’t see their negotiations) so that the threat posed by Fenton does become his business. A stand-off at the ranch sees the disarmed Tex facing the guns of Fenton and Big Ben, with Red Scalp on guard outside. Luckily, Rocky and Dusty come to the rescue: Rocky charging through the door to deliver Tex’s guns, while Dusty takes care of the guard by taking a huge bite out of the seat of Red Scalp’s pants! (One presumes Tex will sell Abe the ranch back for the same nominal fee – somehow I can’t see our straight-up sheriff taking advantage of the situation…) There’s another surreal moment as Dusty chases Red Scalp back into the homestead – the Indian slams the door behind him to reveal the words “THE END” painted on it. “The End?” says Dusty. “Well, so it is!” and the episode concludes.

A Cure for Everything

There’s a snake oil salesman in town: Hyam S Wright, who’s selling bottles of his guaranteed “cure for everything” medicine. Doc Haggerty isn’t too pleased that people are turning to this hocus pocus instead of consulting him. The final straw seems to be when Abe Weeks’s daughter is sick. Doc rides out to see her, prescribes bed rest and she’ll be right as rain in a couple of days. Meanwhile, Abe has bought some of Wright’s phoney medicine and now everyone thinks that’s what cured the little girl. (Wait a minute there! Abe didn’t have a wife and daughter last week when he fled his ranch and left it at the mercy of Morg Fenton and Big Ben – I mean, he wouldn’t have left his family behind, would he? I worry about these details.) In addition to his medicine, Wright has also set up a bath tent, and is selling people a soothing bubble bath. He talks Tex into giving this a try, leading to the somewhat daft scene of Tex singing in the bath, whilst Dusty and Rocky enjoy their own bubbles in the adjacent tubs. Tex discovers that Wright’s medicine is just bottled water, and consults with Chief Kalamakooya about whether there can be any truth in Wright’s claims about its efficacy. Kalamakooya is quite certain that only Indians can have medicine men, whereas white men have doctors. It’s an arrangement that seems to suit everyone fine – and again emphasizes the way the series respects Indian culture and spiritual beliefs. Nevertheless, Tex believes Wright is bottling his water from the Indians’ sacred spring – this turns out to be true, though quite how Tex knew this is anyone’s guess, especially since the “medicine” really is useless bottled water. A real Indian medicine man would have to add various herbs and then utter magic incantations before he could cure anyone with the spring water. Well, whatever, Doc Haggerty is happy that Wright is shown up as a phoney. And at least his bubble baths were genuinely soothing – so much so, that Rocky sneaks away to give himself another bath!

Anderthon: Cover your tracks from Two Gun Tex...

Four Feather Falls
episodes 14-20

A Sheriff Rides Alone

One of the impressive things about this show is the photography, especially of the landscape scenes. Despite all being filmed on miniature sets, probably utilizing forced perspective, there is a real depth and three dimensional look to the backdrops. It’s been pointed out to me how many of the later shows will use back projection behind travelling shots, which ends up looking flat and artificial, but here a lot more effort seems to have gone into it, with puppet horses being ridden across real-looking prairies. This episode opens with a terrific travelling sequence as Tex returns to town, and we actually see the first fences and buildings impinge onto the landscape as he arrives at the edge of town.

Tex finds a new wanted poster waiting for him, for the bandits Blackie and Whitey Strutt who’ve robbed the Wells Fargo office in Laredo, in company with an unidentified third person. Don’t worry, says Tex, they’re not likely to show their faces here. So who’s that Twink is saying “Howdy stranger” to outside the saloon? Only Blackie Strutt, that’s who! Tex soon has the villain under lock and key, but it’s not long before his brother turns up at Big Ben’s shack outside town. It turns out that Ben was the third man on the Laredo robbery, but he’s fallen out with the Strutts big time. He thinks they double crossed him, they think he ran out on them. Nevertheless, Ben agrees to help Whitey to get his brother out of jail. Tex refuses to hand Blackie over, and it’s pretty clear that a showdown is coming.

Tex warns the inhabitants of Four Feather Falls to stay off the streets, and there are some pretty tense scenes as they wait for the inevitable, watching through the windows as a gunfight breaks out at the jail. When Tex tries to take Blackie into the city to stand trial, he’s waylaid by Whitey and Ben – only for Ben to turn his gun on Whitey. It seems he hasn’t forgiven the Strutts for their double cross, and is going to turn them over to Tex. He’s also not keen on facing the magic guns (seems he knows about them now…) and indeed they prove to be the Strutts’ undoing. This is quite a hard-edged episode, a “High Noon” sort of tale of a sheriff facing down some villains despite the odds against him. It’s interesting that the show continues to play with its format, and seems to have no set style.

Buffalo Rocky

Fifteen episodes into the series, and I’m beginning to realize that Tex only knows four songs – so whichever song he chooses to sing each week is going to be extremely familiar by now. Now, this isn’t actually a bad thing for a children’s show: kids love repetition and familiarity, so they’ll come to know the songs and be able to sing along with them. There’s another terrific bit of photography this week, as Tex sings the Phantom Rider song by candlelight in the stable – lots of moody shadows – and ending in a terrific crane shot looking down through the stable rafters. Well, I say crane shot – since the sets were only a few feet high, it was probably done on a tripod, but it looks really impressive, and head and shoulders above what you’d normally get in a kid’s puppet show of this period. Gerry Anderson has said how, if he had to do puppet shows, then he was going to make the most technically accomplished puppet shows imaginable. That’s certainly true here.

This week’s episode is completely bonkers. Several horses have been stolen in the area, and the only clue are buffalo hoofprints on the ground. Tex doesn’t believe that a buffalo can actually be stealing horses, and initially thinks the ranchers are winding him up. But in actuality, it’s a villain called Pete Carson wearing long planks of wood on his feet to which are fixed fake buffalo hooves. Tex investigates the latest theft, and takes a leaf out of Sherlock Holmes’s book by deducing that the hoofprints are not deep enough and too close together to have really been made by a buffalo. He decides to leave Rocky with a group of horses as bait for the thief – so that Rocky can report back on what he sees. I do worry about the show’s continuity – here, Tex discusses his investigation with Dusty and Rocky while Abe the rancher is present – but since the animals can only speak to Tex, what does Abe think Tex is doing? Does he know about the magic that lets the animals speak – (after all, people know about the magic guns) – or is he just humouring the wacky sheriff?

Once Rocky’s been snatched by Carson, he waits until the thief is asleep before trying to get back to Tex. Unfortunately, he’ll need to splash through a stream to get away, and is afraid the noise will wake Carson up. Rocky’s solution is to steal the buffalo hoof planks and strap them to his own feet, and use them to float across the water. (Quite how a horse manages to strap two planks of wood to his hooves without the ability to tie knots is rather glossed over.) The stream turns out to be faster-flowing that Rocky anticipated, leading to his effectively waterskiing – and even having to jump over rocks – until he finally reaches Tex and brings the sheriff to arrest Carson.

Gun Play

Big Ben is a bit of a wannabe bad guy – meaner and less comical than Pedro, but still pretty incompetent in his villainy – but he’s always trying to hook up with real nasty types, as if some of their reputation will rub off on him: the Strutts a couple of episodes ago, and here he’s in league with Johnny Pasto and the Nevada Kid, a couple of cattle rustlers who want to take their stolen herd through Four Feather Falls. Pasto tries to bribe Tex to look the other way, but the sheriff is having none of it. Despite Ben’s warnings about the magic guns, they decide to try and ambush Tex that night, but the sheriff drives them off with ease. Pasto then issues a challenge to Tex, posting a notice up in town for all to see. He calls Tex out to meet him at dawn, without his magic guns. This sends the town practically into mourning – everyone seems to believe that Tex will die and they’ll soon need a new sheriff. Tex though reassures Dusty that he was pretty quick on the draw even before he got his feathers – but even so, he has to prove that the law of which he is the embodiment means something in Four Feather Falls. Paraphrasing Shane, he says: “Sometimes a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.” This episode is an absolutely tremendous statement of that great Western trope. Tex takes off his hat (and therefore his feathers) and goes out to face Johnny Pasto. He outdraws and defeats the outlaw – but it’s a trap: Ben and Nevada are waiting to ambush him. Luckily, Dusty sneaks in with Tex’s hat, allowing the lawman to use his magic once again and round up the double-crossing villains.

Escort

For whatever unspecified misdemeanour, Pedro and Fernando are currently languishing in the town jail. The thing is, they actually like it. It’s more comfortable than their shack, and there are regular meals. Looks like they’ve finally worked out the downside of being the West’s most incompetent bandits. But despite their protests, Tex tells them their sentence is over, and makes them leave. He’s got other things on his mind – most particularly a consignment of gold coming to the bank, for which he’s been asked to provide an escort. Overhearing this, Pedro comes up with a brilliant plan. He and Fernando will impersonate deputies and waylay Mr Huckenbacker, the man bringing the gold, and divert him to their shack. (Hang on! Didn’t they burn their shack down last time?) It all seems to be going to plan, despite Fernando’s inability to understand the concept of subterfuge – he manages to keep blurting out truthful answers to Huckenbacker’s questions, requiring Pedro to do some quick-thinking to maintain their cover. (You’ve got to wonder why he keeps company with Fernando – the man’s a complete liability…) Then suddenly they’re ambushed by Big Ben, out for the gold himself. A shootout ensues, during which Tex arrives and manages to get things under control. He’s slightly bemused when Huckenbacker tells him how well the deputies have protected both him and his gold. Still, Tex has the perfect reward for them – and the two bandits end up gratefully back in jail.

A Little Bit of Luck

Tex is away visiting his family. (That’s interesting. Perhaps we’ll find out why he was travelling alone across the wilderness all those years ago. Was he running away from some sort of bust-up at home? Sadly, we don’t find out – we only see Tex when he gets back, and he certainly seems keen to get back to Four Feather Falls. Maybe the reunion didn’t go well?) Anyway, while Tex is absent, the townsfolk hire a Marshal to keep the peace. The only trouble is: Marshal Ike Burns is a fake. He’s in league with a bandit called Johnny, who’s currently hanging out in Big Ben’s shack. Johnny and Ben keep riding into town and robbing the bank, while the Marshal makes only half-hearted and ineffectual attempts to stop them. A nice little scam they’ve got going. The townsfolk decide to form a vigilante group to try and protect themselves and their property, but Burns tells them he won’t allow it. The only law in this town is going to be his. Nevertheless, when Mr Jackson from the bank wants to move some gold, they decide to defy the Marshal and position a few well placed guns on the rooftops to guard the approaches to the town – meanwhile Mr Jackson and Grandpa Twink take the gold out with Marshal Burns riding shotgun. They get ambushed by Ben and Johnny, at which point Burns reveals his true colours and turns his gun on Jackson and Twink. It’s at this point that Ben realizes the sort of company he’s been keeping, and is horrified by the thought that Burns is about to shoot two unarmed men in the back. (Like before, he wants to ride with the bad boys, but he just isn’t really cut out for it!) Luckily, Tex turns up in the nick of time, and puts paid to the bandits. This is another pretty tough episode – they do seem to be alternating these with the more comical instalments.

The Best Laid Plans

It’s Pedro and Fernando again, and they’re obviously missing being in jail – once again, they’re hungry and they’ve got no gold. However, Pedro has made an arrangement with a conman called Hank Frisby. Hank turns up in Four Feather Falls posing as a businessman. He deposits a strongbox with Mr Jackson’s bank, and manages to persuade Jackson to let him stay in his spare room until he can get himself fixed up. (Obviously, Jackson wants his business, so he agrees to this. Mr Jackson’s rooms are over the bank of course – it’s a Trojan horse operation!) Hank leaves his window open, and goes to the saloon where he keeps the locals occupied and distracted. Meanwhile, Pedro and Fernando climb in through the open window – once inside the building, they start to cut through the floor to get into the bank below. Or rather, Fernando does the cutting – Pedro lounges on the bed “supervising”. Meanwhile, Hank Frisby tries to cover up the noise of the banging from the bank by keeping the saloon noisy, encouraging the locals to sing and play the piano. He even plays on Tex’s vanity by getting the singing sheriff to croon one of his (small) repertoire. As you’d probably expect by now, Pedro and Fernando make a mess of breaking into the bank – Fernando’s hole is too small for Pedro to get through, and he ends up stuck halfway. After much shoving from Fernando, Pedro finally crashes down into the bank below. They make so much noise that Frisby’s increasingly desperate attempts to cover up fail, and he has to pull a gun to stop Tex from going to investigate. He doesn’t reckon on the magic guns however, and Tex is able to disarm him. (Why didn’t Pedro warn Hank about the feathers? It’s not like he doesn’t know about them. They just don’t think these things through.) Realizing that something has gone wrong, Pedro and Fernando grab the first thing they can find and scarper – unfortunately, what they’ve stolen is Hank Frisby’s strongbox – which doesn’t contain gold, just a load of broken junk, anything to make it feel heavy enough. Suddenly, the thought of letting Tex capture them – and those regular meals in the jailhouse – seems more appealing.

The Ma Jones Story

(As a Doctor Who fan, it’s quite amusing to realize that Ma Jones’s full name is Martha! – I wonder if Russell T Davies was a fan of Four Feather Falls.) This week, two strangers arrive in town. They’re actually a couple of conmen. It works like this: Jeff Ward is the young, personable front man. He approaches Ma Jones and sells her a load of luxury goods on really good credit terms. She only has to pay a dollar a week. It seems a good deal, so she signs the credit agreement without really looking at it. Next week, Ward comes back for the first instalment. Unfortunately, the goods haven’t sold very well – perhaps Martha should have bought stuff that the people in a frontier town might have wanted to buy. Still, she only needs to find a dollar for the moment. But then the other guy comes in. He introduces himself as Brad Martin, Ward’s boss, and says he’s revoking the dollar-a-week arrangement, and Martha has to pay the full cost right now. Since she can’t afford it, she forfeits ownership of the store. It’s all in the smallprint. (With this atrocious head for business, you’ve got to wonder how this woman could have been trading for so long!) So they take the store and tell her to get out of town. Tex finds out that Martin and Ward have done this in several towns, and goes to confront them. They won’t hand over the credit document, and guns are drawn – magic guns to the rescue again! It’s not really made clear whether the document is legally watertight or if they’ve just bamboozled a foolish old woman, but since Tex must think he has a case he can make stick, I presume the latter. Tex then goes after Martha, and finds her camped out in the wilderness – just in time to save her from a mountain cat – and takes her back to Four Feather Falls and her old store. There’s a fantastic joke here that Rocky has had new horseshoes fitted, and now his hooves are aching – because as everyone knows, you shouldn’t go for a long walk when you’re trying to break in new shoes! Fortunately, Rocky and Dusty are able to ride back to town with Tex and Martha – giving us the somewhat surreal sight of a horse sitting in the back of a cart as a passenger!

Anderthon: There's always magic in the air...

Four Feather Falls
episodes 7-13

A Close Shave

Once again, they do the joke of Twink being interrupted whilst trying to tell this week’s story, but with a further twist. Initially, Twink is saying goodbye to Jake who’s going off for a ride with Tex – only then does he notice and acknowledge the viewer. Though he has to admit at the end that he couldn’t think of a story this week anyway, so Pedro’s arrival means there was something for the viewer to watch after all! This week, Pedro is conspiring with an Indian called Red Scalp. The plan is simple: Red Scalp will ride into town and tell Tex that the Indian camp at Yellow Gulch has been attacked by bandits – then when Tex goes to investigate, Pedro will enter town the back way and rob the bank. (So, this must mean the rockfall at Yellow Gulch has been cleared away, leaving two routes into town once more. See, I worry about these details – no one mentions it in the episode however.) Although I was a little disappointed to see an Indian turn up as a villain, Red Scalp does appear to be a lone figure, implying at least that he’s some sort of renegade. It’s also clear that his alliance with Pedro is pretty uneasy, with plenty of mutual distrust. Indeed, Red Scalp is not keen to take on Tex due to his magic guns, but Pedro assures him they won’t work on Indians, being Indian magic themselves. What Pedro hasn’t reckoned on is Dusty the Dog overhearing the plan and tipping Tex off, so the whole plan falls flat. When Red Scalp finds that the magic guns will work on him after all, he takes his revenge on Pedro by scalping him. Tex tells Pedro he can’t intervene because his guns won’t work on Indians! Poetic justice – though it is slightly uncomfortable to think that Tex would allow a scalping to take place in the main street. Just as well he realizes that Red Scalp is only going to teach Pedro a lesson by shaving his hair and moustache off, not actually scalping him! (Though I’m not sure how Tex knows this. I’m also not quite sure what to make of Red Scalp yet – his name and some of his actions mark him out as a pretty vicious character, but that conclusion paints him as more of a comedy villain like Pedro.)

Pedro’s Pardon

Tex is putting up a new wanted poster for Pedro, using his gun to fire the nails into the wall while Jake holds the poster up for him. I’m not even sure that’s technically possible – and the health and safety implications are horrendous! Anyway, Pedro turns up and says he’s turned over a new leaf and wants to live as a citizen of Four Feather Falls. Tex responds by locking him in jail, and proceeding to sing a new song to him. As a cruel and unusual punishment, that’s like something out of Guantanamo Bay. But eventually Tex decides to give Pedro a chance to prove he means what he says. It doesn’t take Pedro long to show his true colours, short-changing Ma Jones when he buys a new hat; and then Red Scalp turns up to complain that Pedro has been caught stealing Indian horses – the real reason he’s sought sanctuary in the town. Red Scalp also knows that Pedro keeps his money in his hat, and shoots an arrow through it, spilling money everywhere. Tex allows him to take the price of the horses, which seems consistent with his actions last week of allowing the villains to sort out their own differences as long as it doesn't affect the rest of the townsfolk.

The Toughest Guy in the West

Tex must be really pleased with his song from last week, because here he’s singing it again for the other townsfolk. This leads into some mickey-taking of Grandpa Twink when he says he used to be known for his singing voice – it also seems that he was a gunslinger once who single-handedly fought off a tribe of Comanches, but no one will believe his stories. Twink and Ma Jones set off for Silver City, only to be set upon by Comanches. They take refuge in a barn, where they discover Indian Jack hiding. He’s a white man who dresses like an Indian, and supplies guns to the Comanches. He’s obviously double crossed them though, because it’s him they’re really hunting. Indian Jack is a really nasty piece of work, a real contrast to the camp comedy villains we’ve met so far. He’s quite clearly going to shoot Twink and Martha to make his getaway. Luckily, Twink manages to get the better of him in a moment of confusion. By the time Tex turns up to help, the Comanches are on the run, thanks to the intervention of Chief Kalamakooya and his braves. (This at least restored a bit of my faith in the show – although the Comanches were acting as standard Indian bad guys, Kalamakooya’s desire to live in peace with the white men is still refreshing – it also demonstrates that there are different Indian nations with their own customs and agendas, not just a generic mass.) Tex can’t quite believe that Twink has managed to hold off the Indians and capture Jack – so perhaps his old reputation was deserved after all.

Gun Runners

Again, Kalamakooya appears to Tex, and warns him that someone is supplying guns to the Indians. He’s worried that some of the young braves may turn on the white settlers if they get their hands on guns, which suggests that Kalamakooya’s control of his tribe might be a little uncertain and precarious. Anyway, the guns are being supplied by Big Ben, and his potential buyer is Red Scalp, who therefore appears to be veering back to being a villain again. They plan a meeting to exchange gold for guns, but in what’s becoming a bit of a trope for the series, it’s overheard by Dusty who tips Tex off, and he’s able to catch them in the act. Kalamakooya appears, and says Red Scalp will face the justice of his people, and the two Indians just fade away. Even more mystical, the bag of gold fades away too before Ben can get his hands on it. Indian gold isn’t for the white man, it seems.

Jail Break

An episode that’s mostly about Pedro and Fernando. Pedro is annoyed to find his wanted poster has been replaced by one for Zack Morrill, who’s got an even bigger reward on his head. He wants to be the most wanted man in Four Feather Falls, so he decides to capture Morrill himself and hand him in for the reward. (There’s also the fact that he once worked with Morrill and thinks he never got his cut of the loot.) Unfortunately, the scheme is blown open by Fernando, who meets Morrill on the road, and despite having seen his wanted poster, fails to recognize him and proceeds to tell him what Pedro’s up to. But despite being thus prepared, Zack falls foul of some comedy violence and ends up being captured anyway. He tells Pedro about the loot he’s got stashed away which he’ll share with him. So Pedro decides to hedge his bets. He hands Morrill in for the reward, then plans to break him out of jail so they can share the loot. Needless to say, the jail break goes hilariously wrong, and Pedro and Fernando end up as caught as Morrill. The closing moment sees Pedro’s face superimposed on his wanted poster, pleading with Tex to be left up as the most wanted man in his home town. It’s a sort of self-aware, almost post-modern technique – demonstrating a show that’s aware of its own fictionality – that makes this series seem sophisticated and ahead of its time, and again gives it an appeal to the adult viewer.

Trapped

And here again, the show demonstrates that it’s not only broken the fourth wall, but demolished it. They’ve developed from using Twink as a simple storyteller, to having him address the viewer in the midst of the action – but here, it’s Jake who talks to the audience, saying how he’s sneaking out while his grandpa’s asleep, as he’s promised to go fishing with Makooya. (Now, wait a minute here. Makooya was a boy when Tex found him in the wilderness, and that was before the founding of Four Feather Falls, so presumably a good few years ago. Yet here he is again, and he doesn’t look any older. Does the Indian magic extend to freezing the ageing process – or time travel?) Well, Makooya seems to have acquired some of his grandfather’s magic, such as the ability to teleport himself, though he says he’s not yet very good at it. Jake and Makooya explore some caves, where they discover Big Ben and Red Scalp making counterfeit coins. Red Scalp seals them in the caves - and lo and behold, Makooya's magic isn't enough to get him out again. Nevertheless, Tex finds them after arresting Red Scalp for passing the counterfeit coins – but not before Big Ben has taken the boys hostage. Jake thinks he'll be in trouble with his grandpa, but an appearance by Kalamakooya to sing the boy's praises seems to put paid to that.

Dusty Becomes Deputy

OK, so Tex finally takes leave of his senses and appoints his dog as his deputy. I know he can speak, Tex, but only to you. To anyone else, this is going to look like a Caligula-style excess. Still, at least he doesn't leave Dusty any guns to use! This week, there's a prairie fire on the edge of town - Tex has to rush off to deal with it, before it spreads to Four Feather Falls itself. The twist is the fire has been caused by Pedro and Fernando setting fire to their shack – another of their schemes to get Tex out of town, so they can rob the bank in his absence. You'd think he'd have worked it out by now. When Dusty spots the bandits, he does his usual trick of hiding nearby and overhearing their plans. Then he rushes to find Tex and bring him back - but disaster! Tex has accidentally dropped the feather that enables Dusty's voice. They have to go back and look for it. But any drama is undercut as they find it quite easily, and Tex is able to rush back to town and stop the bandits. Having seen a few episodes now, I've realized another running gag is that most Pedro episodes end with his hat being shot off – he's really rather inordinately fond of his hats, so this seems to be the worst thing you can do to him. Here, Tex manages to shoot the crown clean off, but otherwise leaves the hat on his head – and Pedro, not realizing the damage, thanks him for sparing his hat for once!

Anderthon: Kya Kalamakooya kalakya!

Four Feather Falls
episodes 1-6

For anyone who thinks of Gerry Anderson as a purveyor of tech-heavy science fiction, Four Feather Falls can come as a bit of a surprise. The show can best be described as a comedy fantasy musical western. So that's a lot of genres covered in one go! And obviously, what it has in common with most of the Andersons' sixties output, is that it's also a children's puppet show. What's interesting, compared to the shows later on, is that there's very little attempt here to make the puppets appear to be anything other than puppets. In terms of the sculpting, all the characters are misshapen, almost grotesque caricatures: Grandpa Twink, for instance, looks more like a monkey than a human being! They look like toys or illustrations from children’s books. The only exception to this is our hero, Tex Tucker, who has more or less normal human features, correctly shaped if a little exaggerated. (His head is too large for his body of course, but at least it looks like a human head.) And yet, Tex is some way from being the square-jawed action hero character we’re used to seeing in the later shows. His face has an almost haunted, sunken look about it, as if he’s a man carrying a lot of emotional baggage.

I rather like the moody opening title sequence, a point of view shot as if of a character walking down a darkened western street, with ambient noise such as the tinkling of the saloon piano, puppet horses tethered to the hitching point (they even flick their tails – nice attention to detail) until we meet Tex partly in shadow. Cornered, he raises his hands, apparently at the mercy of his adversary – only for his magic guns to raise themselves in their holsters and open fire. Don’t worry, I’m not going to make the well-worn jokes about the self-firing guns – what’s really striking is how much darker this seems than the rest of the programme, and how much it reminds me of the Captain Scarlet titles 7 years later.

How it Began

The plot of the opening instalment is very simple – Tex Tucker runs Pedro the bandit out of town. That’s it! The bulk of the story is told in flashback, when young Jake asks his grandpa to recount how Tex acquired his magic feathers. Tex was crossing the wilderness with his horse and his dog – the food’s running out, they’ve got hardly any water left, and they’re never going to make it back to civilization. Where he’s going? Where’s he come from? Why’s he making this perilous trek all by himself? It’s all left very vague. Remember what I said about a lot of emotional baggage? Combined with that haunted look the puppet has, I do get the sense that Tex is drifting aimlessly, trying to get away from something. Am I just an adult reading too much into it? Yes, probably, but there’s a fascination in these things that holds the attention in the way that the simplistic plots aren’t going to.

Anyway, Tex finds an Indian boy, Makooya, lost in the wilderness, shares what little food is left with him and tries to take him back to his tribe. Makooya knows the way to a waterfall, where they hope to get some more water – but it’s dry when they get there. There’s a terrific visual joke in their trek across the desert. First Tex is on the horse with Makooya riding in front of him; in the subsequent shot, Tex is on foot leading the horse, with Makooya sitting in the saddle; in the third shot, Tex and Makooya are both on foot, and Dusty the dog is riding on the horse.

Things are looking pretty bleak when they bed down for the night, but Makooya wakes up in the night screaming his grandfather’s name – and lo and behold, a bush seems to catch fire, there’s a load of smoke, and Chief Kalamakooya appears out of nowhere. Tex doesn’t want any reward for saving Makooya, but he gets one anyway: the four magic feathers. The first two give Rocky the horse and Dusty the dog the ability to talk – but only to Tex (and it seems, to each other) – it doesn’t work with anyone else, so I presume there’s some sort of telepathy involved rather than the animals actually acquiring the power of speech. Dusty gains the creaky voice of an old-timer Western pioneer, which seems appropriate, but Rocky ends up with a stereotyped English upper-class accent, all “toodlepip old bean”, because as he says he’s a thoroughbred descended from original English bloodstock. It’s this slightly daft and surreal level of humour that gives the show more appeal to the modern adult viewer.

The chief also rewards them with water – by making the waterfall flow again, and an oasis to appear around it. And after this, he and Makooya both dematerialize. It’s pretty clear that Kalamakooya’s magic powers are absolutely real. He can even turn the night into day, which suggests some ability to speed up time. Now, at a time when most Westerns (or at least those kids would have been familiar with) were depicting Indians as the villains, all warcries and attacking the settlers, it’s quite refreshing to find Indians portrayed here not just as friendly, but as an ancient spiritual people with real mystical abilities.

What Tex Tucker really gains from all this is not his magical gimmicks, it’s a place to live and a sense of purpose. The restored waterfall becomes the watercourse around which the town of Four Feather Falls is built, and Tex remains here and becomes the sheriff. And as he declares in song, it’s “the only place on Earth to be” and “heaven on the range”. So that, I think, is Kalamakooya’s real reward to him.

I can’t let Ma Jones’s lax policy on selling tobacco to minors pass without comment. Yes, I know Jake wants the baccy for his grandpa, but it's still setting a bad example – you couldn’t imagine it being allowed in a children’s programme made today.

Trouble in Yellow Gulch

It’s Pedro the bandit again, and this time he’s got a sidekick, Fernando. Watching this, I’m beginning to get a sense that these two are going to be the real stars of the show. They’re stereotyped Mexican bandits of course, but their bickering and bitchy putdowns provide a lot of humour. Their plan here is to buy Yellow Gulch, one of the two passes that lead into Four Feather Falls, and charge a toll from anyone using it. People are too frightened to use the other approach, through Black Boulder Canyon – because as the name might suggest, there’s a bloody great black boulder perched precariously on top of it and threatening to come down on you at any moment. So, the town is perhaps not so pleasantly located as we’ve been led to believe. Thanks, Big Chief Kalamakooya!

Not content with a legal moneymaking scheme, Pedro and Fernando decide to go one further and topple the black boulder to block the canyon – then everyone will have to use Yellow Gulch. So they steal some dynamite from behind Ma Jones’s store. (She’s storing it for the mining company in the most unsecure yard imaginable – Tex really needs to do a premises inspection there!) Tex outwits the bandits by switching the dynamite to the other side of the boulder, so Yellow Gulch is buried and Black Boulder Canyon gets permanently opened as a safe route.

Frame-up

They must have liked Grandpa Twink narrating Tex’s story in the first episode, because in this and the subsequent episodes, Twink is actually talking directly to the viewer, and recounting this week’s story: Tex is summoned to Silver City to assist the new Sheriff Jamieson with some unspecified task. In an increasingly complex plot, Rocky gets stolen, forcing Tex and Dusty to continue on foot; they meet a man who’ll sell them a horse, but wants fifty bucks for it. It turns out some stolen loot is hidden in the saddle bag, so Tex ends up getting arrested by Sheriff Jamieson, who locks him up and tells him the judge is likely to hang him. But it’s all a big con. Jamieson is really a crook, and wants Tex out of the way so he can take control of Four Feather Falls himself. Fortunately, he leaves the bandit Big Ben to look after Tex, and he doesn’t know about the magic guns – so Tex easily disarms him and gets himself released. He races back to Four Feather Falls to have it out with Jamieson. Of course, for Tex, there’s nothing worse than a crooked lawman.

Pedro Has a Plan

How’s that for a title? Does exactly what it say on the tin! Pedro and Fernando are back, camper than ever. Pedro’s plan is really simple: to steal Tex’s magic feathers and replace them with duds. At first I wondered why no one’s thought of this before – but a more pertinent question is: how do they know about the feathers? (Unless they’ve been listening to the voiceover at the start of each episode.) It’s the one thing you’d think Tex would keep secret from his enemies – and Big Ben didn’t know about it last week – but now suddenly it’s common knowledge in the bandit community. Oh well… Just as Tex is cornered without magic guns, Rocky and Dusty save the day by riding in with the real feathers – in an amusingly anachronistic moment, Dusty regains his voice and says, “We’re back on the air!”

Sheriff for a Day

Tex has to go out and help the stagecoach or something, and rather foolishly leaves Jake behind as deputy – even more foolishly, he leaves him his guns and the magic feathers to control them. Has this man no sense of responsibility, leaving a kid in charge of deadly weapons? With a curious inevitability, Tex’s mission is a phoney and he’s captured by Big Ben, and left sitting on Rocky with a noose round his neck – which is pretty tough stuff for a kid’s show. But Big Ben’s attempts to take control of Four Feather Falls are thwarted by Jake and the magic guns; Jake then rushes to save Tex. There’s a lovely tense moment as a rattlesnake approaches Tex and Rocky – Tex urges Rocky to run for it, but Rocky won’t move, knowing that it’ll leave Tex swinging from the rope. Unfortunately, this character drama is completely undercut by the revelation that the whole episode is a dream Jake is having. Yes, five episodes in, and we’ve already had one of those “it was all just a dream” stories that really blight the Anderson series. I’m not a fan of them – can you tell? (Still, at least it means Tex wouldn’t be such a plank as to leave Jake in charge in real life.)

Indian Attack

Twink’s just starting to tell this week’s story when he’s interrupted by Fernando, and suddenly the present takes precedence over the past. I love the way this series keeps subtly subverting itself – just when you’ve got a handle on the formula, they do something different. Even cleverer here is the moment when Fernando, held at gunpoint by Tex, tries to convince the sheriff that there’s something going on behind him – in this case, smoke signals indicating that Indians are massing for an attack. Tex isn’t about to fall for the oldest trick in the book – until Fernando throws down his own gun to convince him. Fernando then volunteers to stay and help Tex fight to protect the town. As complex as this characterization is, I was a little disappointed to find that the noble and mystical Indians were now being presented as more stereotypical Western villains. It’s a relief then to discover there aren’t any Indians – it’s Pedro hiding behind the rocks sending up smoke and banging tom-toms. It’s all part of a complicated plan to steal Tex’s feathers and replace them with duds. Come on, think of something else, guys! (Once again, Dusty saves the day by recovering the real feathers in time.)

I have to say, I'm rather surprised to have found so much to say about six 13 minute episodes of a kids puppet show. I've found it charming and a lot more intriguing than I thought I was going to. It certainly bodes well for the rest of the Anderthon…

Stand By For Action!

Something a bit new for this blog. I've decided to start a marathon viewing of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson's classic productions - all the way from Four Feather Falls to Space: 1999. Why? Because I'm mad probably. Some of this will be new to me: (I've never seen Four Feather Falls or Supercar before, and only a handful of episodes of Fireball XL5); some will be like revisiting old friends. But I want to do it in order, and in context, and see if I can follow the development of the Anderson production.

It's often baffled me over the years the way that the "Gerry Anderson production" has come to be seen almost as a genre in itself, that one tv producer can have fans of his own who embrace all his productions as if they're part of a single huge series. Rather than a career in tv production spawning a variety of shows, highs and lows, successes and failures. But maybe I'm wrong - I want to find out...

So, I'll be watching:

Four Feather Falls
Supercar
Fireball XL5
Stingray
Thunderbirds (including the movies)
Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons
Joe 90
Journey to the Far Side of the Sun
The Secret Service
UFO
Space: 1999
The Day After Tomorrow

and writing about my thoughts and feelings here on this blog. It'll be interesting to see if I can get to the end, or whether I'll go mad in the process. If it's really successful, I may even go on to Terrahawks and some of the more recent shows - nothing in the world would induce me to watch Space Precinct again though - besides, I don't own a copy.

So, look out for this marathon, or "Anderthon" as I've decided to call it, which will be starting here very soon.

Suspended in time

Isn't it funny how fandom as a collective entity knows things that simply aren't actually true?

I was following a thread on Gallifreybase the other day, where people were discussing all the terrible "mistakes" the BBC had made over the years with Doctor Who. You know the sort of thing: sacking Colin Baker, not replacing JNT, junking the sixties episodes, etc, etc. Of course, many of those were perfectly normal business decisions made for entirely understandable commercial, practical or logistical reasons at the time. Not that I'd necessarily agree with them. Well, I'm not here to debate the rights and wrongs of why these things happened. And it's obvious that as fans with a vested interest in the programme, we can't always see these things from the point of view of the BBC management.

What interested me here was that one of the many listed "mistakes" was the BBC's decision to suspend the series for 18 months in 1985. That's something that every fan knows. "18 months is too long to wait" as Ian Levine and Hans Zimmer pointed out through the medium of high energy pop. The thing is: it's not true, is it? Just with my pedantic hat on, you can do the maths and see that season 22 finished at the end of March 85, and season 23 resumed in the first week of September 86 - so the show was only off air for 17 months. Still, 18 months is a nice round figure, so I'm prepared to forgive that. No, the real point is that fans seem to forget that in the eighties, the show was off-air for nine months of the year anyway, so half of that mythical suspension period would have been barren in any case. Once you've taken that on board, it doesn't seem quite so bad, does it? A season which in the normal course of events would have started in January 1986, gets deferred for a few months to allow for a bit of re-tooling. These are the sort of scheduling decisions that tv companies make every day - and, one presumes, not for any sort of sinister reasons. Indeed, it had the result of pushing Who back to an autumn broadcast, which many fans will tell you is its natural home in any case. So they ought to be happy about it.

It was also not an unusual thing to happen to a tv series at that time. Let's look at a contemporary example. Bergerac series 3 ended on 4th February 1984, and series 4 didn't start until 11th October 1985. 20 whole months off the air! Bloody hell, they got it worse than we did. Were the Bergerac fans up in arms as well? Doctor Who fans just love being melodramatic, and an "18 month suspension" is something more to complain about than an "8 month deferment". But you know, that's all it was.

It's nearly Christmas

So almost time for a new Christmas special. I haven't posted much during the last year - no particular reason - so I thought I'd have a look back at what 2010 brought us. Well, I was immensely relieved to find that all the doomsayers were proved completely wrong, and Matt Smith was, right from the word go, demonstrated to be absolutely the perfect choice to play the Doctor. On the evidence of this first year, he's become my favourite Doctor of the modern series. Certainly I admired Eccleston's performance, though I became increasingly disenchanted with the smugness and mockney mugging of Tennant - but Smith comes out of left field and keeps surprising me. He's no doubt been helped by the quality of his episodes. Don't get me wrong, there were terrific scripts in previous seasons, and there were some lesser episodes this year - been overall, Moffat has crafted a story arc of wonderful complexity. I also love the way he took the piss out of RTD's series finales by having all the monsters team up to capture the Doctor - only to pull the rug out from under the whole thing and do something more more clever and intimate for the last episode. So a huge thumbs up from me so far. Let's see what 2011 brings.

Are you getting excited yet?

I am. Ridiculously so. I haven't been as stupidly excited as this since 2005. Just under a week to go until the new series. The trailers look amazing, and Matt Smith has an interesting way of speaking and moving - his diction seems a lot better than David Tennant's, that's always a good sign. I'm just hoping that the trailers aren't giving me a false impression. No, it'll be great!

It's funny, actually, but I seem to be almost spoiler-free for this new series. I'm not a person who goes around seeking out spoilers in any case, but somehow they just seem to drip into your consciousness, especially when you spend any length of time hanging around internet-based fandom. That was certainly the case for the Tennant series, but this time around I don't seem to know anything, other than what's been released in the trailers and so on. Maybe Moffat's less of a publicity whore than Russell Davies was, but they seem to have kept it much closer to their chests this time. It just adds to the sense of building excitement.

I'm supposed to be working on an assignment for this management course I'm doing, but I just can't get my brain in gear, so here I am writing a completely pointless blog entry. Anything to keep me from what I actually should be doing. Oh well... (I've also been working on my Space: 1999 site, and I should have some updates going up on that soon. Yeah, I know, it's about time...)

Peter Graves RIP

It's a fact that time catches up with us all. People get old and they die. That's just how it is. But it does seem in the last few years as if everyone of my heroes has been shuffling off this mortal coil, and that suddenly seems to make one aware of mortality a bit more. I've tried to think why this should be; and I suppose it's down to the fact that I love tv shows of a certain vintage - particularly those of the sixties and seventies - and inevitably, the stars and producers of programmes made 30 to 50 years ago are nowadays going to be in their 70s and 80s; I'm not surprised to see them dying, and really I'm not saddened. I like to celebrate what they gave us in life, so today I commemorate the passing of Mr Peter Graves.

To me, he will always be the mastermind behind the Impossible Missions Force: the star of America's greatest ever television show. Mission: Impossible is a show I love to watch and rewatch. I'm amazed by the complexity and subtlety of the plots. The nonsensical and frankly insulting movie franchise can't detract from the magnificence of the original. Mr Graves played the role of Jim Phelps with a great sense of gravitas and dignity - it's a show that perhaps teeters on the edge of self-parody, and the straight-ahead and serious performances are what holds it all together. To compare with a more recent example: Hustle has essentially the same premise, a team of sophisticated conmen setting up the perfect sting operation - it's a fine show, but I find all those knowing little winks to the camera annoying - they really detract from the drama of the situation. The IMF conversely are playing for high stakes - the safety and security of the free world - and one doesn't doubt the commitment and dedication of those agents. Peter Graves does a magnificent thing at the beginning of each episode, when he's listening to the tape of the mission briefing - tiny little flickers of thought and intelligence can be read in his face, suggesting that Jim is starting to put together the basis of the plan right there and then. A masterclass performance. He won a Golden Globe for the part in 1971.

Peter Graves 1926-2010

The End of Time

Blimey! Nearly a year since I last posted anything. So after all that speculation last time, what have I got to say now I've finally seen Matt Smith in action? Well, he's still got legs... hopefully, that applies to the series as well! Seriously, the new series preview looked interesting, and if the vague rumours I've heard are reliable (I tend to avoid large-scale spoilers and set reports) then it looks like Moffatt might be taking the show in some exciting directions. Let me get this straight, I'm not expecting some huge shift in style - the show's a success and I doubt the producers are going to want to tamper with that - but if they can avoid some of the worst excesses of the RTD era, then I'll be happy. It's hard to tell exactly what Smith's going to do with the role, but hopefully we've seen the last of the "mockney geezer" stylings that made me want to give Tennant a good slap on occasion.

Anyway, The End of Time. I thought this was quite fun, the first episode being more lightweight (as befitted a Christmas broadcast slot) than the second. Generally, the story was entertaining, though hardly top-flight - it wouldn't be in my top ten of tenth Doctor stories (which will be going up on the Eyespider website quite soon). I found John Simm to be less irritating this time around, which was a plus. The Master's plan was absolutely batshit insane of course, but there's nothing new in that!

As for continuity issues - well, we finally got to see the Time War flashback people have been wishing for - probably about as much as we'll ever be shown of it anyway. Full marks to the producers for still not confirming which Doctor (eighth or ninth) it was who fought on the front line in the final war - that way, we can all still go on imagining it the way we each choose to. (I know, I know, most fans seem to think it was McGann who ended the war - they're wrong of course, but they can go on thinking that - it doesn't bother me...) The final explanation for the Master's madness - whilst it may be a retcon in terms of the last forty years of series continuity - at least tied up the ideas of the RTD series in a nice neat bundle. It's all been about the Time War, and its consequences, for the last five years.

It's pleasing to get confirmation of something I've been speculating about over the last few years - that when the Doctor eulogizes about how wonderful Gallifrey was (for instance at the end of Gridlock) he's really talking about an idealized vision of the world he remembers from his youth, not the world that he really lived on. (After all, if it was so shit hot, why did he run away in the first place...?) He's romanticized his memories of the place, perhaps in an effort to negate his sense of loss or assuage his guilt. This much seemed apparent from past episodes. But here, finally, he confesses that it's what he chooses to remember, and that the Gallifrey of the Time War was a terrible place - something he's not sad to have time-locked. That puts a new spin on things, but also it doesn't invalidate the destruction of Gallifrey in the eighth Doctor novels. We can surmise that the Doctor "restored" Gallifrey following the events of The Gallifrey Chronicles, but I've always been uneasy with the notion that the planet was brought back exactly as it had been, with all the same people still alive. Much more interesting if the new Gallifrey is a completely strange and unknowable place. If the Doctor did use the downloaded Matrix data to somehow recreate his world and his race, that might explain how people can be resurrected in new forms (the Master and now it would seem Rassilon).

Mind you, I'm not certain that Timothy Dalton was playing that Rassilon. Can we take that one line comment quite so literally, I ask myself. The Doctor could be using the name in a purely perjorative context - after all, when Bill Pertwee calls Captain Mainwaring "Napoleon", he's not really suggesting that the Walmington-on-Sea platoon is commanded by the former Emperor of France.

Fans often comment on the contrast between Logopolis and The Caves of Androzani - how the fourth Doctor dies saving the entire universe, whilst the fifth Doctor dies saving the life of one friend. In The End of Time, amazingly, we had both. After all the build-up and the Ood prophecies, we were expecting the Doctor to sacrifice himself to save creation - well, he does that, and miraculously survives it all - only to have to give his life for Wilf. The glass booth was painstakingly introduced in part one - it's a real Chekhov's Gun! - and yet somehow it just hadn't occurred to me what an important role it was going to play in the end. (I don't know, old age is finally creeping up on me...) But I really wasn't expecting the source of those four knocks - a fantastic resolution.

Of course, when I saw that there was still twenty minutes to go, I realized that there was going to be a protracted, sentimental wrap-up. Some have suggested that the ending was self-indulgent. Well, they're right, it was, but I don't necessarily mind that. As someone who's embraced all Doctor Who across its vast multimedia universe, there wasn't really anything unusual about the character vignettes that littered the ending. It might well be a new thing for the tv series, but the books often featured extended epilogues - and these sort of little moments are the very stuff that the Short Trips and Brief Encounters stories were made of: a character moment, a bittersweet reunion, a taking care of business. So it didn't feel particularly new or unlike Who to me.

One interesting thing, from a "Complete Adventures" perspective: the Doctor's opening scene neatly de-links the story from the cataclysmic ending of The Waters of Mars and confirms that the Doctor has been faffing around having a series of utterly silly and inconsequential adventures to try and put off facing his fate as long as possible. Since I've been worrying about where to fit the now (frankly) insane number of comic strips that Doctor Who Adventures have been churning out over the last year, this finally offers me the perfect place - because if those comics aren't silly and inconsequential, I don't know what is...

Matt Smith is the Doctor!

Well, it's been just over a week since the casting of the eleventh Doctor was announced, something which has seemingly split fandom and galvanized all manner of extreme opinions. What do I think? Strangely, I don't really have an opinion. I'd never even heard of Matt Smith before his name started cropping up in the rumours and the bookies' lists a couple of days before the announcement. I don't watch a lot of modern television, so I don't think I've ever seen him in anything. So I'm really in the position of having absolutely no preconceptions or prejudices. And part of me still clings to the belief that these highly-paid tv producers and executives must actually know what they're doing. (And as they've told us, Matt Smith's audition was fantastic.) If Steven Moffatt had made a completely disastrous choice, you'd think that Piers Wenger would have questioned it, or vice versa. They must be sure of what they're doing. Would the BBC really risk their flagship show and biggest cash-cow like that?

It's interesting to think back to some of the previous changes of Doctor. When I saw Jon Pertwee turn into Tom Baker at the tender age of 5, I had no idea beforehand that it was going to happen. I don't recall being stunned or upset by it, just amazed. I suppose at that age, I just accepted what happened in Doctor Who as part of the magic. (Of course, I had no idea that this had ever happened before. As far as I knew, Jon Pertwee was the first Doctor. It must have been Christmas the following year, when I got the Doctor Who Monster Book, that I first found out there had been four Doctors.) I remember asking my mum how they made Doctor Who's face change like that. She told me: "they put wires in his pants". I've since discovered this is untrue, and the realization that my mother could lie to me was quite shocking. In some way, it has justified every small fib and half-truth I've ever told her in the intervening years...

By the time of Baker's departure, I was a bit more aware of the world outside Doctor Who. So I knew that Peter Davison had been cast - I don't recall actually seeing it on the news, but certainly I read about it in DWM. I knew who he was, I'd seen him in All Creatures and some of those sitcoms he'd been doing. I don't recall having any particular preconceptions or worries about him taking over, but I suppose then, aged 11, I was too young to be cynical and was still largely in awe of everything I saw in Doctor Who. So I just went with it - the fact that I was instantly won over by the brilliance of Davison's performance helped there.

I know exactly where I was when I heard about Colin Baker's casting. I was sitting behind a desk in the door of my friend's dad's garage. (I have no idea why I was there, it was obviously part of some game we were playing.) My friend came out of his house and told me it had just been on the radio that Colin Baker was the new Doctor. I'd never heard of him - so a bit like the current situation. I'd been too young to have watched The Brothers or War and Peace. In retrospect, I realize I'd have seen his guest spots in Blakes 7 and Juliet Bravo, but of course, I wasn't looking at a potential Doctor then, so it hadn't really registered in that regard.

I was at work when I heard about Sylvester McCoy - this is a tale of me growing up with Doctor Who, isn't it...? I was in the canteen for lunch, and the story was in someone's copy of The Sun. The headline, I remember, was New Doctor Who is the Unknown McCoy. Again, I didn't know who he was, though I suppose I must have seen some of those children's shows he'd been in. I thought he looked good in the pictures, and the one fact that always struck me was that he'd trained as a priest. I remember thinking, Tom Baker used to be a monk. This must bode well. What odd thought processes we fans go through. But I recall being optimistic, until about five minutes into Time and the Rani, when it all started to unravel.... Still, we won't go there.

I can't recall when I heard about Paul McGann, but it wasn't much of a surprise. His name had been bandied about for some time. He was a fine actor, I'd seen him in some good roles, so there was nothing to worry about. By the time of ninth Doctor, the internet age was here. I'd heard the casting would be announced just after midnight, and I was sitting there (no doubt along with thousands of others) refreshing the BBC website until the news came up. The choice of Christopher Eccleston was unexpected, surprising even. Of course, I knew who he was... David Tennant was a completely different matter. No surprise there - let's face it, we knew it was going to be him even before we knew that Eccleston was leaving!

So I'm going into the whole Matt Smith thing without prejudice. Some people are going around trying to track down things he's been in, to watch and get some idea of what he's like. I say, why bother? You'll just end up with false impressions. Just wait for his debut as the Doctor. Some of the other comments erupting across the forums are strange. Is he too young? He's only a couple of years younger than Davison, who was brilliant, let's face it. I'm more surprised by the people who say he's ugly, or his face is strange. I'd say his face is interesting. I can certainly understand what Moffat says when he looks like he's young and old at the same time. And he does such weird things with his hands - let's hope he incorporates some of that into his performance. As for his looks, I point you to the stunning male models who were Hartnell, Troughton, Pertwee, etc... Does it matter what the Doctor looks like? I have to laugh at some of fandom's conclusions though. They've cast a young guy because they want to appeal to a teenage girl market. They've cast an ugly guy, so they're going to alienate the teenage girl market. Both at the same time, apparently. That should cancel both concerns out, surely...

So, welcome aboard the Tardis, Mr Smith.

The Next Doctor

That was a lot of fun, wasn't it? Exactly what you need for Christmas Day. I know there are a lot of fans for whom Russel Davies's take on the series is too lightweight and childish. I'm not one of them. Doctor Who should be fun and adventurous. That's not to say I'm averse to something grave and serious on occasion, but you need balance. There was plenty of deep emotional drama on display here, as the story of Jackson Lake unfolded. (Let's face it, despite all the hype, he was never going to turn out to be the Doctor, was he?)

Once the mystery of Jackson was out of the way, there were very continuity issues in this story. Indeed, by removing the originally planned cliffhanger ending of Journey's End, Russell Davies has effectively de-linked the story from the tv episodes either side of it, meaning we've got a fairly nebulous spaces into which some of the spin-off material can be easily inserted. There are plenty of comic strip adventures, and even a solo-Doctor novel now (The Eyeless) that can go into a gap before the Christmas special - so thank goodness that hasn't been as problematic as in previous years!

Speaking of comic strips, I've been thrilled by the latest issue of IDW's current series The Forgotten. What had seemed to be yet another series 3 tale with Martha has turned completely on its head, and it now looks like it's set post-series 4. Great twist! As yet, I'm not certain if the story occurs before or after The Next Doctor. I guess I'll be able to make a better decision after the last two episodes have come out... Similarly, DWM have started on a new arc of comic strips with a new companion. It's looking like the "gap year" is going to prove interesting in terms of how diverse story strands are going to fit together, especially as we have no idea yet how things are going to pan out in the tv specials themselves. So we could well see the tenth Doctor adventure listings fluctuating wildly as I try to keep up with new developments...

In Your Facebook!

Just a short note to announce my latest innovation: The Complete Adventures Facebook group. I'm hoping this will become a place for discussion and argument about the Doctor's chronology. Feel free to drop by and have your say...

A Fete Worse Than Death

On Saturday, I went to the Summer fete at St Andrew's church in Caversham. The vicar there, Nigel Jones, is an old friend of mine, and he asked me and another of our friends, Matthew Brookes, to come and help open the event. Why? Because more than twenty years ago, Matthew built a Dalek in the school woodwork shop. We used to take it out to conventions, Longleat events and the like. It always required a two man team to operate it, simply because it was bloody hard work and taking it in turns enabled the other guy to have a rest. (It also helped to have someone following the Dalek around to stop over-inquisitive kids pulling bits off it.)

But that was then. Now, we're on the verge of middle age with responsible jobs and bills to pay. So when Nigel asked if the Dalek could open the fete, I wasn't really sure what to expect. (From Nigel's point of view, the draw of a Dalek would ensure a good attendance for the event. He merely hinted that a "special guest alien from Doctor Who" would be appearing - but the local press got wind of it and announced it would be a Dalek. Well, it did the trick, as apparently the fete was one of the best attended ever in the parish.) For Matthew and me, it was a journey into madness! The Dalek has been in storage for the best part of a decade, gathering dust and dirt and cobwebs in the back of a garage. Since we only got it out of storage the night before the fete, there followed several hours of cleaning it up and repairing minor damage. Remarkably, all the electrics still seemed to work - most importantly, the voice modulator. Nevertheless, we needed to visit Halfords as soon as they opened, and ask if we could buy a motorcycle battery (any make, any size, it didn't matter as long as it was 12V) and some wire and crocodile clips. It was only afterwards that Matthew realized they must have thought we were bomb-makers!

Next, we loaded the Dalek into a van and drove to Caversham - we put the Dalek together inside the church (a odd juxtaposition in itself!) and discovered that the voice no longer worked. Talk about frustrating. Matthew is something of a perfectionist and wanted to take the electrics apart to find the fault, but as Nigel pointed out, the kids had come to see a Dalek and it wouldn't be fair to disappoint them. There were also press photographers, and even a cameraman from Meridian TV - I don't know if we made it onto the news however. What I do know is, the inside of the Dalek seemed a lot more cramped than I remembered - and it was a damned sight harder to move the thing than I recalled. I had one go, but in the end I was content to let Matthew get on with it. As I observed the Dalek working the crowd, it was interesting to compare the reactions of the kids now to those of ten years ago. It's quite clear that they all know what a Dalek is, and they followed it around like it was the Pied Piper. Especially once Matthew got the voice working again - he was engaging with them, answering their questions, threatening to enslave them and conquer the Earth, and so on. I don't think any of them thought for a moment that there was a person sweating away inside it. Because it's a black Dalek, several of the kids automatically called him Dalek Sec as well. And another thing that happened - as I was following the Dalek about with a sonic screwdriver in my hand, more than one kid asked me if I was the Doctor. OK, I've got sideburns, but I don't look anything like David Tennant. I was able to improvise a bit of business where I said I'd deactivated the Dalek's gun, and handed the kids the screwdriver so that they could (temporarily) shut down its motive power - enabling it to pose for photographs with them! What that suggested to me though, was that those people who think Doctor Who depends on David Tennant's personal popularity and that the bubble will burst once he's gone, are very probably wrong. My experience is that kids will accept anyone with a sonic screwdriver!

I haven't said much about the new series so far this year. Don't worry, I still like Doctor Who, and I'll be talking about it very soon. Watch this space...