50 Years Ago: Doctor Who: "The Ark in Space"

The fourth actor to portray the famous time traveling "Doctor," Tom Baker followed on directly from the Jon Pertwee years, a span wherein -- for a substantial stretch of time -- the renegade Time Lord from Gallifrey was trapped on 20th century Earth, unable to explore the universe.

That travel ban had been lifted previous to Baker's arrival (following the anniversary celebration, "The Three Doctors), but "The Ark in Space" represents the fourth Doctor's first foray away from terra firma; and a harrowing one at that.

Can you believe it's been fifty years since this serial ended its BBC run (February 15, 1975)?

"The Ark in Space" is also an early and prominent example of producer Philip Hinchcliffe's new template for the long-lived series, one that involved a dramatic shift towards more overt horror territory.  

Indeed, seasons 12 through 15 of Doctor Who --which still represents a kind of golden age for the classic series -- presented one outer space  horror-themed serial after another, with titles such as "Terror of the Zygons," "Planet of Evil," "The Pyramids of Mars," "The Brain of Morbius," "The Seeds of Doom," "The Masque of Mandragora," "The Hand of Fear, "The Face of Evil," "The Talons of Weng-Chiang," "The Horror of Fang Rock," and "Image of the Fendahl."  

In these tales, the universe itself seemed to take on a new, distinctly mysterious and dark aura.  There was a strong Lovecraftian angle to the series at this juncture, as monstrous gods (Sutekh), species (The Fendahl), and personalities (Morbius) threatened to arise from centuries-long slumber, or even from entrapment in the ice (Krynoid) to threaten mankind and the universe at large.

"The Ark in Space" expertly sets that terrifying tone for this new concentration on horror, and does so from the inaugural shot; a point-of-view perspective shot that reveals some kind of green-slime-covered monster attacking a sleeping human inside a suspended-animation chamber.  

Aboard the T.A.R.D.I.S., Doctor and his two companions, Sarah Jane Smith (Elisabeth Sladen) and Harry Sullivan (Ian Marter) set down near the site of the attack, on a seemingly abandoned "artificial satellite," the space station called Nerva.  

The station is an example of "30th century construction," and the time/space travelers quickly discover that Nerva is also a "cryogenic repository" warehousing the survivors of the human race.  These poor souls have been asleep for some 5,000 years, following solar flares which devastated the surface of Earth.

 Now, the "entire human race" awaits "a trumpet blast," to wake up, start over again, and re-populate the healed planet.

In an early portion of the first episode, the Doctor delivers a stirring speech about mankind and the species' possibilities, and his words bear repeating:

 "What an inventive, invincible species! It's only been a few million years since they crawled up out of the mud and learned to walk. Puny, defenseless bipeds. They've survived flood, famine and plague. They've survived cosmic wars and holocausts. And now, here they are, out among the stars, waiting to begin a new life. Ready to out-sit eternity. They're indomitable.  Indomitable."

However, those future pioneers of Earth now have a big problem.  An alien race called the Wirrn that the Doctor likens to "galactic wood worms" has infested the station.

The Wirrn swarm once lived in the Andromeda Galaxy but their "Old Lands" were seized by space faring human beings, and the giant bugs have been looking for a new home ever since.  Not to mention revenge. Again, consider how the discussion of "Old Lands" and the resurrection/return of an ancient evil resonates with the Lovecraft template.

The Wirrn plan to utilize the sleeping human race on Nerva as their primary food source, and more.  When they digest life forms, the Wirrn also absorb the knowledge of all such life, and so plan to become a "technological species" within one generation.

As his wont, the Doctor has once more stumbled into an inter-species battle for survival, and must pick a side for which to fight.  Given his history, and the affirmative quotation regarding mankind above, it's not too difficult to guess where his loyalties fall.   

But one delightful element of  "The Ark in Space" is that it isn't simply a serial about man vs. alien, or the Doctor racing to the rescue; much like the proverbial Time Traveler negotiating the breach between the Eloi and the Morlock.

On the contrary, this Doctor Who serial comments on an intriguing trend in the 20th century workplace that began in the 1970s and probably reached its peak in the mid-1990s.  

In this tale by Robert Holmes, the future humans in suspended animation are all workers with very specific assignments.  They are specialists, able to perform with great talent their assigned duties, and only their assigned duties.  They are advanced technologically, quite bright, and yet also rigid.   One woman named Vira (Wendy Williams) is a physician; the man named Noah is a leader, and so on.  

But beyond their specialties, these examples of future man are lost; diffident and vulnerable. 

In real life, the debate was whether or not workers would be more productive simply doing one task, or multi-tasking.  In the Recession of the early-to-mid 1990s, the trend towards specialization largely faded out and multi-tasking -- the performance of multiple tasks by one person -- carried the day.   With layoffs and an epidemic of "down-sizing" (a new term in the 1990s) workers had to prove their flexibility and worth to companies looking to cut and slash.

"The Ark in Space" debates this issue, in the process considering every shade of each argument.  Vira is designated a physician, but when Noah, the team leader, is absorbed by the Wirrn, she must step up to the plate and take command.  It is not her nature, and it's not her "job description," but fate has made these arrangements for her. She will either grow...or fail.  And if she fails, the human race fails.

The Wirrn represent a strong contrast to the trend of specialization in the work place: they gain knowledge easily, through biological absorption and can pick up new talents, skills, and data without re-education or any personal learning whatsoever.

They need only to...consume talented individuals to grow and fatten and prosper.  Because they are an insect culture, the Wirrn are also a hive mind.  And another word for that, of course, is "corporate entity."

So make any comparisons you wish there, between business executives and parasitic insects.  They are the "users" of the workers, who end up on top by "absorbing" the talents of those they exploit.

The more closely one studies "The Ark in Space," the more fully this debate about specialization in the human animal bubbles through to the surface.

In Part Four of the serial, for instance, Sarah Jane Smith -- a reporter by trade -- leaves her comfort zone behind in more ways than one by transporting an electronic cable through an egregiously tight vent shaft.

Like Vira, who becomes a sturdy and dependable commanding officer, Sarah adapts to the needs of the environment instead of sticking to one particular skill set.  Rather than specialize herself into oblivion, she grows and changes.  Again, this is gazed upon as an extemely valuable trait.

Yet there's a yang to this yin, as well.

An engineer named Rogan ultimately saves the day by releasing the docking clamps on a space shuttle containing the Wirrn.  Before he does so, Rogan tellingly informs the Doctor "This is my job," with the emphasis on the descriptor "my."  He meets his destiny by fulfilling the task he was trained to do.  He considers that task an oath, as we can see from his self-sacrifice.  

Similarly, Noah retains enough of his humanity to also fulfill his training...as a leader.  In this case, he saves the humans by deceiving the Wirrn into space; to the outside hull of the station.  

Uniquely, Noah has not only fulfilled his compact with the humans, he has also, in a very strange way "led" the Wirrn as well.  Right off a cliff, so-to-speak. It's illuminating to consider that the humans and the Wirrns are both, at times in this four-part serial, led by one man: Noah.  This means, I suppose that once a leader, always a leader, regardless of the species one commands.  Once more, the idea being explored in "The Ark in Space" is training or career preparation as nothing less than destiny.  

"The Ark in Space" diagrams the debate between specialization and multi-tasking quite fully, without ever lecturing or becoming pedantic.  The end point seems to be not that one approach is worlds better than the other, but only that flexibility and expertise are the keys to survival in any Darwinian struggle for survival.  The humans (and the Doctor) do adapt, and fight back against the Wirrn.  The same cannot be said for the bugs.

The Wirrn continue to live by their biological life cycle (eat, absorb, lay eggs, then start again) and in the end that's simply not enough to make them the dominant species. Possessed of a corporate mentality, they cannot, apparently, resist from following Noah (their metaphorical CEO, I suppose...), into disaster. There must be learning and adaptation for survival, this serial implies.

In terms of context, "The Ark in Space" is also fascinating because it reveals Dr. Who, along with Space:1999 (also premiering in 1975) at the spearhead of the movement to re-define space adventuring in darker, more grotesque terms than in previous TV efforts.  

In the late 1960s, Star Trek had beautifully and colorfully presented the idea of the United Nations in Space, with Cold War enemies such as the Klingons and the Federation, and each unaligned planet representing an island across a cosmic ocean, to either join the Federation, or team up with the enemy.  By the late 1970s, the paradigm shifted.  Space, in 1999 and the Hinchcliffe years of Who, no longer existed simply as an extended metaphor for East/West relations here on Earth.  

And at the end of the decade, of course, Ridley Scott's brilliant film Alien (1979) took the concept of outer space horror about as far as it could possibly go, with the riveting, gorgeously visualized tale of a "perfect" (and perfectly hostile) alien parasite.

If one were to gaze at episodes of Space:1999 such as "Dragon's Domain" (with an alien octopus inhabiting a derelict space ship...) and "End of Eternity" (featuring a malevolent alien kicked out an airlock, when there's no way to kill him), as well as "The Ark in Space," which posits a parasite co-opting human bodies for the furtherance of its life-cycle, the "seeds" of Alien are quite evident.   

Today, one scene in "Ark in Space" forecasts Alien especially closely.  Sarah Jane goes into that tight vent shaft, wearing a head-set "two-way radio," while in another chamber crewmen monitor her progress going from "juncture" to "juncture."  

At one point, Sarah encounters the Wirrn, but they are (safely) on the other side of a vent grille.  In Alien, of course, Captain Dallas goes into the Nostromo's air duct, also wearing such a head set, and is monitored closely by Lambert and Parker, moving from "junction" to "junction."  He comes to a much unhappier end, than Sarah-Jane. 

The point of this comparison is not to declare in any way, shape or form that Alien ripped off this TV show or that TV show, only that there was clearly something in the water in the 1970s, so-to-speak, moving space adventure in the direction of more dark, paranoid, chaotic imaginings.  

Perhaps it was the Energy Crisis that made all the difference: a global race for resources during a period of scarcity and market manipulation.  In many of these dramas, from "The Ark in Space" to "Dragon's Domain" to Alien, it is man himself who becomes the ultimate resource for otherworldly beings; to be used up, and rather maliciously so.

"The Ark in Space" sets the dark, ominous tone for much of Tom Baker's early tenure on Doctor Who, and so there's a chilling, unsettling atmosphere to the entire enterprise.  In this story, man is dislodged from his home on Earth and sleeping in the ultimate "dark" -- outer space itself.  And worse, there really are hungry monsters under the bed, just waiting to get him. 

"The Ark in Space" exploits this universal fear well, despite a not-very convincing Wirrn monster costume, and succeeds in being suspenseful largely because it is well-written and well-performed.  The Doctor goes on at length about the idea of being "digested" and "absorbed" by the Wirrn, and his colorful descriptions are more than enough to give those with a strong imagination a lingering case of the creeps.

By 1975, Doctor Who had been around for more than a decade.  

But "The Ark in Space" is worth highlighting because it nearly feels like a pilot for a new series; a purposeful and efficacious re-direction of Who from its more action-oriented, earthbound, James-Bond-like Pertwee phase towards more ominous imaginings about outer space, and man's possible future role in that mysterious and unsafe realm.

The Thing-a-Thon: Doctor Who: "The Seeds of Doom" (1976)

In Antarctica Camp 3, several scientists -- Moberly (Michael McStay), Winlett (John Gleeson), and Stevenson (Hubert Rees) -- excavate from the ice a mysterious vegetable pod.

Found at a layer that indicates it is more than 20,000 years old, this vegetable pod becomes of interest to the World Ecology Bureau in London. 

The Bureau contacts UNIT, and sends the Doctor (Tom Baker), and Sarah Jane (Elisabeth Sladen) to Antarctica to investigate it.

The Doctor determines the pod originated not on Earth, but a distant planet, and orders the scientists to keep it well-guarded until his arrival. His orders are disobeyed, however, and one of the scientists is attacked by the pod and assimilated it by it. The pod is actually a malevolent alien life-form called a Krynoid.

A “galactic weed,” the Krynoid travels the universe dispersing seeds to habitable planets, and then destroying all animal life there. Now it is a race against time: can the Doctor stop the Krynoid from spreading before it takes over all plant life on Earth?

A millionaire and plant-lover named Harrison Chase (Tony Beckley), is secretly working against the Time Lord to help an adult Krynoid germinate and rule our world.

The thirteenth season of classic Doctor Who (1963-1989) culminated with “The Seeds of Doom,” a serial from Robert Banks Stewart that is clearly inspired both by John Campbell’s “Who Goes There?” and the 1951 film, The Thing.  The (excellent) narrative re-purposes settings and characters from the history of The Thing productions and literary works.

As is the case in both “Who Goes There” and The Thing, an alien life-form that is buried in the ice (whether at Antarctica, or the North Pole, like the Hawks/Nyby film), is unearthed here, revealing an alien menace. 

Similarly, the Krynoid is plant or vegetable-based life in “The Seeds of Doom,” and as you may recall, the Thing (James Arness) in the fifties film is characterized as an “intellectual carrot” made of vegetable matter.

Mind boggling…

It’s intriguing how “The Seeds of Doom” adopts different aspects of The Thing’s narrative across the decades. From the novella, we get here the idea of an evil contaminating our life form and altering the shape of a human being, which is then able to infect others similarly.  And, the larger threat is of a new and inimical life-form taking over the Earth, eliminating the human race in the process.  In the case of this Doctor Who tale, the Krynoid escapes Antarctica, and gets to Great Britain, where things get out of hand quickly.

From the 1950's film, primarily, “The Seeds of Doom” takes the aforementioned nature of the monster (vegetable rather than animal), and the idea of a possibly-mad ally helping it along.  In the movie, Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) -- whether from lack of sleep, bad judgement, or poor character -- attempts to propagate a “Thing” garden at the base, and preserve the “wise” being (despite its readily obvious violent qualities). Here, Harrison Chase, an eccentric millionaire, chooses intelligent plant life over his own species, and plays, essentially, the same role in the drama. He is the turncoat to his own species, deluded about what role he would play in the “New Order.”

“The Seeds of Doom” has always been one of my favorite Doctor Who serials of the Tom Baker era. The first sections, set in Antarctica are claustrophobic and terrifying, and the nature of the Krynoid threat is well-established.  For a low-budget show, some of the effects still manage to be creepy and disgusting.

Meanwhile, the last chapters of the serial -- with an adult Krynoid towering over Chase’s mansion, and harnessing the power the Earth’s vegetation -- plays like some gonzo (and thoroughly enjoyable) kaiju movie.

One other element worthy of discussion here involves the presence of the Doctor, the protagonist. In other versions of The Thing, characters such as McReady/MacReady, Kate Lloyd, or Pat Hendry have to play “catch-up” to understand the situation and the nature of the threat the Earth faces.

In “The Seeds of Doom,” the Doctor -- with all of his knowledge of time, space, and alien life-forms -- has an advantage they didn’t. He knows all about the nemesis he must contend with, and is ready for battle, almost from the beginning.

Ask JKM a Question: A Female Doctor Who?

A reader named Don writes:

“One other question for your "Ask JKM" segment”-- one I'm sure you've had in your inbox a few times the past 24 hours: what's your take on the casting of Jodie Whitaker as the first female Doctor?”

Don, I know you submitted a few questions, but I’m going to answer this one first, since it is so timely today. Also, as you say, my inbox has been filled with commentary on this particular question.

I had hoped to comment on the remarkable casting news yesterday, but I was blindsided by the passing of George A. Romero and Martin Landau, and am only now landing on my feet.

Excuse me, if, given the events of the last twenty fours, I am a little less diplomatic than I usually am in this response to those who have found cause to complain about the casting news.

My thoughts on Jodie Whitaker as the first female Doctor in Doctor Who?

It’s about bloody time!

Doctor Who has endured and even thrived, basically, for almost fifty-five years, by constantly re-inventing itself.

It has re-invented its style, its lead character, its universe, its hero’s background, and more. The Doctor is a character who has been old, young, Scottish (!), mischievous, deadpan, pompous, and comedic. The Doctor has had curly hair, dark hair, blond hair, and gray hair. The Doctor has been a renegade, on the run, a cosmic hobo, and even trapped on 20th century Earth for a time. The Doctor has fled Time Lords, worked with the Time Lords, and witnessed the death and rebirth of the Time Lords.

Change is, actually, the essence of this particular character, and that change is one significant factor that keeps the series fresh and intriguing.

I like and appreciate Peter Capaldi very much in the lead role, and feel he made the character his own. I feel he will be evaluated as a strong “Doctor” in terms of franchise history, but I have also read so many comments on the Internet about his era feeling old and tired. 

There was starting to become this overwhelming sense that even in a universe of constant change, Doctor Who was starting to feel old. It needed an injection of new blood that a standard regeneration might not provide.

So we now have the opportunity for new blood in the writing, behind the scenes, and in front of the cameras with Jodie Whitaker as well. The Doctor  shall be re-invented again, just as the character was reinvented after Hartnell, after Troughton, after Pertwee, and so forth. But for the first time, the Doctor will be a woman.

We could be on the cusp of something great, I feel.

And there is absolutely no plausible reason why the Doctor should not be female, given what we know of regeneration, and given the Doctor’s long history of constant change. We have the example, for instance, of the Master.

All the jokes about “bras in the TARDIS” are -- forgive me for being blunt -- stupid and juvenile, as are the by-now predictable cries of “SJW Doctor Who.”

The Doctor is a character whose very existence has been defined by elasticity. The cries of anguish over a female Doctor are sexism, pure and simple, and I hope that those making this complaint fulfill their written (online) promises to leave Doctor Who fandom at this juncture.

We won't let the door hit them on the way out.

And while they are making a hasty exit, they should also leave modern science fiction fandom, in general, if they have a problem with a female Doctor.

Now, I don’t like change just to be edgy, just for the sake of change, but change is “baked in” on Doctor Who, and this change is not out-of-line with what we have seen in the series, historically-speaking.

Those who can’t bring themselves to watch the adventures of a female Doctor can content themselves with 12 incarnations of white male Doctors, and just enjoy those, again and again, ad infinitum without ever having to come up for air, or face the fact of a changing, more just, more equal world in terms of on-screen representation. 

These snowflakes -- to coin a phrase -- belong in the past, in their own safe space of eternal reruns. Personally, I look forward to not hearing from them again. That would be such a relief.

For it has been a huge embarrassment, I feel, to see this sort of bad white male behavior crop up again and again in fandom, and be forced to defend it. 

I remember white men feeling wounded and betrayed by the presence of a strong woman, Furiosa, in Mad Max: Fury Road (2015), and wondering what on Earth they could be thinking…when they should have been rejoicing a marvelous addition to that cinematic universe.

Just weeks ago, I watched with dismay as Star Trek Discovery was attacked as Star Trek: SJW because it featured diversity in its leading cast, even though this diversity follows well the tradition of Deep Space Nine (1993-1999) and Voyager (1995-2001). Indeed, diversity is the essence of Star Trek, much as change is the essence of Doctor Who.

Look, I’m a straight white man, myself, and I just don’t understand at all how this kind of misogyny and racism can go hand-in-hand with a love of science fiction, and a love of Star Trek, or Doctor Who in particular. And I won’t defend or apologize for the behavior of those who feel the Doctor must always be a male, or that all starship captains should be white males simply because of “tradition.”

As I’ve written before, that’s a logical fallacy, the appeal to tradition. Just because something has always been one way, it must continue to be that way, the belief goes. That’s a bad reason to do something, in my book. Why?  Because over time, we learn, we get new facts...we grow.

I feel those who make this argument are not just misogynist and racist, but trapped in a perpetual victim mentality loop.

Why?

It’s obvious that there are plenty of white male heroes out there for these snowflakes to continue to enjoy.

They have names like Captain Kirk, Luke Skywalker, Harry Potter, Bilbo Baggins, James Bond, Dr. Strange, Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, Batman, Superman, Ethan Hunt, Jason Bourne, Hercules, Ant Man, Sherlock Holmes, Tarzan, Hawkeye, Wolverine, Peter Quill, Owen Grady, Rick Grimes, Jon Snow, Paul Atreides, John Connor, Jean Luc-Picard, Captain Archer, Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, Mad Max, Mal Reynolds, etc., etc.

I just can’t feel sympathy for these complainers because one regeneration of a multi-incarnation hero -- the Doctor -- is going to be, perhaps for three years, a woman.

The fact that they are complaining about this -- one three year stint out of 54 years or so -- exposes the fact that they are total and utterly indulged, or to use a term they hate (but which is apt): privileged.  

If they don’t want to watch a female Doctor, then by all means, they should opt out and make a beeline for the safe spaces of reruns.

But they should know that they won’t be missed. 

And that time is rapidly passing them by. 

They are loud and vocal and obnoxious, and let's face it --  even threatening --  now, in 2017, but more and more people are seeing them for what they truly are: bullies. 

Their complaints are not about ethics in journalism. 

Their stance is not a a response to “social justice warriors.” 

These folks are gate-keeping, and arguing for a status quo that they perceive they benefit from. They represent a rigid, exclusive brand of close-mindedness that doesn't belong anywhere near the concept of science fiction, and a universe of endless possibilities.

I hope Jodie Whitaker does a great job as the new Doctor, and I recommend that she give Kate Mulgrew a call at her earliest opportunity to discuss what it is like to carry the torch for a science fiction brand (mistakenly) thought to be the exclusive terrain of white males.

It's going to be an interesting three years. But for every hater out there, I hope there will be a voice like mine too, urging on the new incarnation of Doctor, and helping to usher in a fantastic, exciting future.

Don’t forget to ask me your questions at: Muirbusiness@yahoo.com

Doctor Who: "The Robots of Death" (1977)

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.

Doctor Who: "The Ark in Space"

The fourth actor to portray the famous time traveling "Doctor," Tom Baker followed on directly from the Jon Pertwee years, a span wherein -- for a substantial stretch of time -- the renegade Time Lord from Gallifrey was trapped on 20th century Earth, unable to explore the universe.

That travel ban had been lifted previous to Baker's arrival (following the anniversary celebration, "The Three Doctors), but "The Ark in Space" represents the fourth Doctor's first foray away from terra firma; and a harrowing one at that.

"The Ark in Space" is also an early and prominent example of producer Philip Hinchcliffe's new template for the long-lived series, one that involved a dramatic shift towards more overt horror territory. 

Indeed, seasons 12 through 15 of Doctor Who --which still represents a kind of golden age for the classic series -- presented one outer space  horror-themed serial after another, with titles such as "Terror of the Zygons," "Planet of Evil," "The Pyramids of Mars," "The Brain of Morbius," "The Seeds of Doom," "The Masque of Mandragora," "The Hand of Fear, "The Face of Evil," "The Talons of Weng-Chiang," "The Horror of Fang Rock," and "Image of the Fendahl." 

In these tales, the universe itself seemed to take on a new, distinctly mysterious and dark aura.  There was a strong Lovecraftian angle to the series at this juncture, as monstrous gods (Sutekh), species (The Fendahl), and personalities (Morbius) threatened to arise from centuries-long slumber, or even from entrapment in the ice (Krynoid) to threaten mankind and the universe at large.

"The Ark in Space" expertly sets that terrifying tone for this new concentration on horror, and does so from the inaugural shot; a point-of-view perspective shot that reveals some kind of green-slime-covered monster attacking a sleeping human inside a suspended-animation chamber.  

Aboard the T.A.R.D.I.S., Doctor and his two companions, Sarah Jane Smith (Elisabeth Sladen) and Harry Sullivan (Ian Marter) set down near the site of the attack, on a seemingly abandoned "artificial satellite," the space station called Nerva. 

The station is an example of "30th century construction," and the time/space travelers quickly discover that Nerva is also a "cryogenic repository" warehousing the survivors of the human race.  These poor souls have been asleep for some 5,000 years, following solar flares which devastated the surface of Earth.

 Now, the "entire human race" awaits "a trumpet blast," to wake up, start over again, and re-populate the healed planet.

In an early portion of the first episode, the Doctor delivers a stirring speech about mankind and the species' possibilities, and his words bear repeating:

 "What an inventive, invincible species! It's only been a few million years since they crawled up out of the mud and learned to walk. Puny, defenseless bipeds. They've survived flood, famine and plague. They've survived cosmic wars and holocausts. And now, here they are, out among the stars, waiting to begin a new life. Ready to out-sit eternity. They're indomitable.  Indomitable."

However, those future pioneers of Earth now have a big problem.  An alien race called the Wirrn that the Doctor likens to "galactic wood worms" has infested the station.

The Wirrn swarm once lived in the Andromeda Galaxy but their "Old Lands" were seized by space faring human beings, and the giant bugs have been looking for a new home ever since.  Not to mention revenge. Again, consider how the discussion of "Old Lands" and the resurrection/return of an ancient evil resonates with the Lovecraft template.

The Wirrn plan to utilize the sleeping human race on Nerva as their primary food source, and more.  When they digest life forms, the Wirrn also absorb the knowledge of all such life, and so plan to become a "technological species" within one generation.

As his wont, the Doctor has once more stumbled into an inter-species battle for survival, and must pick a side for which to fight.  Given his history, and the affirmative quotation regarding mankind above, it's not too difficult to guess where his loyalties fall.  

But one delightful element of  "The Ark in Space" is that it isn't simply a serial about man vs. alien, or the Doctor racing to the rescue; much like the proverbial Time Traveler negotiating the breach between the Eloi and the Morlock.

On the contrary, this Doctor Who serial comments on an intriguing trend in the 20th century workplace that began in the 1970s and probably reached its peak in the mid-1990s. 

In this tale by Robert Holmes, the future humans in suspended animation are all workers with very specific assignments.  They are specialists, able to perform with great talent their assigned duties, and only their assigned duties.  They are advanced technologically, quite bright, and yet also rigid.   One woman named Vira (Wendy Williams) is a physician; the man named Noah is a leader, and so on. 

But beyond their specialties, these examples of future man are lost; diffident and vulnerable.

In real life, the debate was whether or not workers would be more productive simply doing one task, or multi-tasking.  In the Recession of the early-to-mid 1990s, the trend towards specialization largely faded out and multi-tasking -- the performance of multiple tasks by one person -- carried the day.   With layoffs and an epidemic of "down-sizing" (a new term in the 1990s) workers had to prove their flexibility and worth to companies looking to cut and slash.

"The Ark in Space" debates this issue, in the process considering every shade of each argument.  Vira is designated a physician, but when Noah, the team leader, is absorbed by the Wirrn, she must step up to the plate and take command.  It is not her nature, and it's not her "job description," but fate has made these arrangements for her. She will either grow...or fail.  And if she fails, the human race fails.

The Wirrn represent a strong contrast to the trend of specialization in the work place: they gain knowledge easily, through biological absorption and can pick up new talents, skills, and data without re-education or any personal learning whatsoever.

They need only to...consume talented individuals to grow and fatten and prosper.  Because they are an insect culture, the Wirrn are also a hive mind.  And another word for that, of course, is "corporate entity."

So make any comparisons you wish there, between business executives and parasitic insects.  They are the "users" of the workers, who end up on top by "absorbing" the talents of those they exploit.

The more closely one studies "The Ark in Space," the more fully this debate about specialization in the human animal bubbles through to the surface.

In Part Four of the serial, for instance, Sarah Jane Smith -- a reporter by trade -- leaves her comfort zone behind in more ways than one by transporting an electronic cable through an egregiously tight vent shaft.

Like Vira, who becomes a sturdy and dependable commanding officer, Sarah adapts to the needs of the environment instead of sticking to one particular skill set.  Rather than specialize herself into oblivion, she grows and changes.  Again, this is gazed upon as an extemely valuable trait.

Yet there's a yang to this yin, as well.

An engineer named Rogan ultimately saves the day by releasing the docking clamps on a space shuttle containing the Wirrn.  Before he does so, Rogan tellingly informs the Doctor "This is my job," with the emphasis on the descriptor "my."  He meets his destiny by fulfilling the task he was trained to do.  He considers that task an oath, as we can see from his self-sacrifice. 

Similarly, Noah retains enough of his humanity to also fulfill his training...as a leader.  In this case, he saves the humans by deceiving the Wirrn into space; to the outside hull of the station. 

Uniquely, Noah has not only fulfilled his compact with the humans, he has also, in a very strange way "led" the Wirrn as well.  Right off a cliff, so-to-speak. It's illuminating to consider that the humans and the Wirrns are both, at times in this four-part serial, led by one man: Noah.  This means, I suppose that once a leader, always a leader, regardless of the species one commands.  Once more, the idea being explored in "The Ark in Space" is training or career preparation as nothing less than destiny. 

"The Ark in Space" diagrams the debate between specialization and multi-tasking quite fully, without ever lecturing or becoming pedantic.  The end point seems to be not that one approach is worlds better than the other, but only that flexibility and expertise are the keys to survival in any Darwinian struggle for survival.  The humans (and the Doctor) do adapt, and fight back against the Wirrn.  The same cannot be said for the bugs.

The Wirrn continue to live by their biological life cycle (eat, absorb, lay eggs, then start again) and in the end that's simply not enough to make them the dominant species. Possessed of a corporate mentality, they cannot, apparently, resist from following Noah (their metaphorical CEO, I suppose...), into disaster. There must be learning and adaptation for survival, this serial implies.

In terms of context, "The Ark in Space" is also fascinating because it reveals Dr. Who, along with Space:1999 (also premiering in 1975) at the spearhead of the movement to re-define space adventuring in darker, more grotesque terms than in previous TV efforts. 

In the late 1960s, Star Trek had beautifully and colorfully presented the idea of the United Nations in Space, with Cold War enemies such as the Klingons and the Federation, and each unaligned planet representing an island across a cosmic ocean, to either join the Federation, or team up with the enemy.  By the late 1970s, the paradigm shifted.  Space, in 1999 and the Hinchcliffe years of Who, no longer existed simply as an extended metaphor for East/West relations here on Earth. 

And at the end of the decade, of course, Ridley Scott's brilliant film Alien (1979) took the concept of outer space horror about as far as it could possibly go, with the riveting, gorgeously visualized tale of a "perfect" (and perfectly hostile) alien parasite.

If one were to gaze at episodes of Space:1999 such as "Dragon's Domain" (with an alien octopus inhabiting a derelict space ship...) and "End of Eternity" (featuring a malevolent alien kicked out an airlock, when there's no way to kill him), as well as "The Ark in Space," which posits a parasite co-opting human bodies for the furtherance of its life-cycle, the "seeds" of Alien are quite evident.  

Today, one scene in "Ark in Space" forecasts Alien especially closely.  Sarah Jane goes into that tight vent shaft, wearing a head-set "two-way radio," while in another chamber crewmen monitor her progress going from "juncture" to "juncture." 

At one point, Sarah encounters the Wirrn, but they are (safely) on the other side of a vent grille.  In Alien, of course, Captain Dallas goes into the Nostromo's air duct, also wearing such a head set, and is monitored closely by Lambert and Parker, moving from "junction" to "junction."  He comes to a much unhappier end, than Sarah-Jane.

The point of this comparison is not to declare in any way, shape or form that Alien ripped off this TV show or that TV show, only that there was clearly something in the water in the 1970s, so-to-speak, moving space adventure in the direction of more dark, paranoid, chaotic imaginings. 

Perhaps it was the Energy Crisis that made all the difference: a global race for resources during a period of scarcity and market manipulation.  In many of these dramas, from "The Ark in Space" to "Dragon's Domain" to Alien, it is man himself who becomes the ultimate resource for otherworldly beings; to be used up, and rather maliciously so.

"The Ark in Space" sets the dark, ominous tone for much of Tom Baker's early tenure on Doctor Who, and so there's a chilling, unsettling atmosphere to the entire enterprise.  In this story, man is dislodged from his home on Earth and sleeping in the ultimate "dark" -- outer space itself.  And worse, there really are hungry monsters under the bed, just waiting to get him.

"The Ark in Space" exploits this universal fear well, despite a not-very convincing Wirrn monster costume, and succeeds in being suspenseful largely because it is well-written and well-performed.  The Doctor goes on at length about the idea of being "digested" and "absorbed" by the Wirrn, and his colorful descriptions are more than enough to give those with a strong imagination a lingering case of the creeps.

By 1975, Doctor Who had been around for more than a decade.  But "The Ark in Space" is worth highlighting because it nearly feels like a pilot for a new series; a purposeful and efficacious re-direction of Who from its more action-oriented, earthbound, James-Bond-like Pertwee phase towards more ominous imaginings about outer space, and man's possible future role in that mysterious and unsafe realm.

Doctor Who (Fourth Doctor) 3-D Clay Picture (Remus Play Kits)

Doctor Who (Fourth Doctor) Letraset (1979)

Action Figures of the Week: Doctor Who (Fourth Doctor): Denys Fisher Edition

Pop Art: Doctor Who (Fourth Doctor): Marvel Edition

Pop Art: Doctor Who (Fourth Doctor) Pinnacle Edition