The
Doctor (Tom Baker) and his companion, Leela (Louise Jameson) find that the
TARDIS has landed inside a vast, tank-like mining vehicle traversing a barren
desert world.
The
travelers in time and space also find that they are in terrible danger. Specifically, crew members aboard the
colossal rig are being killed by an unseen assailant who leaves behind “corpse
markers” on each victim. These tags are
typically used to signify that a robot has been destroyed.
The
Doctor and Leela soon learn that the rig’s crew -- and the society from which it hails -- is completely dependent on
humanoid robots. In fact, several “classes”
of robots are aboard the rig, including the Dumbs (mutes), the Vox, and the
SuperVox. The Doctor concludes that
somehow the robots have overcome their peaceful programming and are committing
murder.
The
question soon becomes one of human survival.
Are the robots developing awareness of their status as slaves, or is
there a dark humanoid force behind the killings?
In
my 1999 book, A Critical History of Doctor Who on Television, I tagged “The
Robots of Death” as one of the best Doctor Who serials ever produced,
and I still feel that my initial assessment is accurate. In particular, I believe that this conclusion
regarding quality is merited because of the production design and costuming, which
enhance a story that is about nothing less than the horrors of slavery. In this case, however, the slaves are not
human beings, but robots.
First
and foremost, the robot costumes in “Robots of Death” underline the theme about
slavery. The machines wear Asian-themed
serving clothes which suggest their status as underlings. Their molded plastic faces, similarly, show
only a mask of politeness. In other
words, the robots represent the smiling but subservient face of a peasant or
slave class. The Robots don suits of plain green, or black, and this gives the impression
that they are not really meant to be noticed.
They are but…background noise in an indulged culture.
By
purposeful contrast, the men and women aboard the mining rig wear impractical,
ornate, glittering costumes that shine and dazzle. These costumes are frequently gold or silver,
to boot. Each human character also wears
an ostentatious or flowery head-dress to indicate his or her individuality and
even, in some sense, “royalty.” Again, a
clever costuming touch creates a contrast with the appearance of the robots,
who all look virtually identical.
Individuality then, is for masters, but not slaves.
Similarly,
the mining rig “crew” wears elaborate painted eye-make-up, and again, if there is time to
apply such intricate designs on the face every day then it is clear that
someone else -- namely the slaves -- must be responsible for the day-to-day
operation and survival of the Empire.
The
costumes and make-up in “The Robots of Death” thus express beautifully the idea
of an alien culture both decadent and indulgent in its own luxury. In regards to the production design, the
interior of the mining vessel forwards the very same notion. It looks more like a comfortable ocean liner
than a utilitarian mining craft.
The
crew’s behavior -- indulging in petty competition, gossipy talk, and lavish
feasts -- also reinforces the notion of a culture that is so separated from the
struggle for life and death that its people no longer even recognize that they
are in danger. The humans here treat the
robots only as things, and have grown so lazy and complacent that their race
would actually die out without the robots serving and maintaining the basics of
civilization.
Outside
of the production design, wardrobe, and make-up choices that adeptly reinforce the
notion of a corrupt society and an exploited underclass, “The Robots of
Death” plays very much like an Agatha Christie novel. Each character on the mining vessel boasts a
mysterious history, a secret identity and perhaps, even, a motivation for
murder.
The story resolves with the truth about a man
named Taryn Kapel who was raised by robots and is sensitive to their
exploitation. The name Taryn Kapel seems
very similar to Karel Čapek, the late-nineteenth century author who introduced the world
to the term “robot.” In this way, "Robots of Death" connects right here to our experience and history on Earth, and the development of automation.
“The
Robots of Death” is a remarkable serial, and one augmented by brilliant execution,
but it succeeds so admirably because it reminds viewers of an unpleasant human
quality (and one later seen in regards to the Ood).
Humans
prize comfort, at times, over equality or justice. Only the Doctor -- an outsider -- can point out
this foible.
And he does it with a grin.
Philip Hinchcliffe, who was the producer of Doctor Who for the first three Tom Baker years, was in Toronto recently at a Who event. He was a great guest, and said that the idea of the lavish costumes on the crew, which he liked very much, came from the costume designer (whos name I sadly can't remember).
ReplyDeleteThis was a culture I wish the new series would revisit. Where else will you see "upper class" miners whose work clothes are ornate gowns and tunics? Certainly one of the best thought out and realized cultures in the classic series.
ReplyDelete