Series 2 Episode 2: Dangerous Journey

Serial: Planet of Giants
Episode: 2 (Dangerous Journey)
Doctor: William Hartnell
Companions: Barbara, Ian, and Susan

Writer: Louis Marks
Director: Mervyn Pinfield
Producer: Verity Lambert
Original Air Date: 08/11/1964

SWEET THUMBELINA DON'T BE GLUM (and other stories)

In which the Doctor does empathy and climbs up a drainpipe, Susan is endearing but doesn't know about acoustics, the teachers don't like rollercoasters, Babs is dying but won't tell anyone she's dying because apparently this week they made her a fucking idiot, and Ian fails to notice that something is very obviously wrong with the uncharacteristically-swooning Bae because all her uncharacteristic behaviour conforms to gender norms. But there is also a giant plughole, and I found out many things about Sugar Puffs, so je ne regrette rien.

So Team Tardis is about to be eaten by a cat.

Fortunately, cat-whisperers Ian and the Doctor have some advice for their womenfolk: don’t move, and don’t look into the cat’s eyes. What? Is that even a thing? I can’t even check whether this is a thing because ‘how to avoid being eaten by cats’ mostly turns up articles aimed at single people afraid of dying alone when you type it into Google. Maybe the Doctor is confusing cats with dinosaurs.

Anyway, the cat loses interest; perhaps it’s intending to eat the freshly-murdered Mr. Farrow instead. However, the Doctor rules out getting back to the ship just now, because cats are super-quick and he doesn’t fancy being a part of its diet. This has touched a nerve with Babs, who reckons this is getting more horrifying every moment; clearly being eaten by cats is something she, as someone whose flat (according to Ian in one of his douchier moments right at the beginning of the show) is probably full of stray animals like a sixties Disney Princess (well, she’s got the physics-defying hair for it), fears above all things. Just thought I'd bring up that little gem. What is more likely is that, as discussed in previous episodes, the relentless threat of death is starting to Bother our Babs.

Susan asks whether they ought to try communicating with the people here, but the Doctor and Ian are against it because of Science: they’ll sound like a squeak and the unshrunk humans will sound like a low growl. Barbara, however, has other fears: that they will be seen as freaks who will be put in glass cases and examined under microscopes. We seem to be learning a lot about Barbara’s phobias this week. The Doctor has another important thing to add: the people who live in this house are murderers and therefore have insane and/or criminal minds and are incapable of showing sympathy and understanding. So there. You share those Victorian attitudes to mental health, Doctor! Though to be fair, he's not wrong about the whole 'don't put your trust in murderers' thing.

Babs wonders whether they oughtn’t to do something about that there murder; the Doctor reckons they can do sod-all in their current state. But before they can get into it, a giant leg approaches—everybody run!

AND OH WE HAVE TRIPPAGE! BARBARA HAS GONE OVER ON HER ANKLE PURELY FOR THE PURPOSES OF SPLITTING UP THE GROUP. Though it should be noted that Susan tries to go back for her. Yes Susan. (As well you might, after Babs was willing to be guillotined rather than leave you behind when you were afflicted with that narratively-convenient headache.) The Doctor and Susan head over to a pipe, while Ian gets Barbara to join him in the briefcase.

Looming above the briefcase is our murderous businessman Forester, who is chatting to Smithers the Scientist, who is wearing a lab coat because he is a Scientist. He tries to tell him some cock-and-bull story about Farrow stealing the formula and accidentally shooting himself, but a brief examination of the body (which merely looks like a pen has exploded over its shirt) puts paid to that. Smithers, rather coolly, advises him not to try that shit with the police, as Farrow has clearly been shot through the heart from some feet away. No flies on Smithers. (Or on anyone, if DN6 makes it to production. Yeah I’m paying attention to the plot!)

Anyway, the reason Smithers is so unfazed by the body is because apparently he’s seen people dying of starvation all over the world, which is why he’s been developing DN6. And he’s been working crazy hours for the past year to do it, too, and is pissed off that Forester didn’t just try to bribe Farrow instead. Forester reckons he can make it look like a boating accident seeing as how Farrow was off on his French river cruise…which I seriously doubt, seeing as how the body will still have a gunshot wound in it when the police find it washed up on the Riviera. Smithers doesn’t give a shit as long as he can stop people starving to death. Which is a noble cause, but surely DN6 wouldn’t actually achieve this if what it’s really doing is causing widespread crop failure because all the pollinators have been wiped out. Anyway, Forester is going to get on with his dastardly scheme…but he’s going to take Farrow’s briefcase back into the lab first. Because of reasons.

In the lab, Ian and Babs emerge from the briefcase, looking green around the gills; Babs says it was worse than the Big Dipper. Which just adds to my ongoing ‘Barbara and Ian go to a fairground and are reminded of all sorts of fucked-up stuff from their adventures with the Doctor’ head canon. Also, I choose to believe they once went to Blackpool on a school trip in an advisory capacity and it was basically like a Willy Russell film only with Carole Ann Ford instead of a kid called Carol. Also also, Ian’s lament—‘of course it had to happen to us­—of all the places to pick, we had to choose one that was movable’—is the story of their lives. Barbara reflects ruefully that she’s bashed her knee on a large piece of metal that turns out to have been a paperclip; Barbara’s sense of the absurd continues to be prevalent.

Anyway, because she’s done her ankle in, she’d like to find some water to bathe it in. Sigh. I should note at this point that I have cruckled my ankles several times and it’s absolute agony, but seriously they could’ve found another way to get these two into the briefcase and then to the sink. Why are women’s ankles always a plot device and why do men never go over on them?

Outside, Forester and Smithers are moving the body. They take it past a drain, inside which the Doctor and Susan are lurking. Susan’s seen Forester take the briefcase, and the Doctor nearly falls down the drain when he goes over to investigate the drainpipe, which he pronounces smelly. In fact it has an awful chemical smell, which means it’s a special pipe and probably leads inside the house, and the Doctor intends to climb up it. It’s corroded so it’s got lots of handholds and footholds, and the chemical smell mean’s it’s germ-free. So no tetanus for the Gallifreyans, then, just maybe a few hideous chemical burns. Then a beautiful thing happens:

SUSAN: It's too far for you, Grandfather.
DOCTOR: Well, if it is, I shall have to give up, and I'm not going to give up before I've tried. And remember, you must think of the other two. They must be constantly reminding themselves they're only one inch high. There's only the two of us to help them.
SUSAN: All right. But you let me go first.
DOCTOR: Yes, yes, yes, go on.

YES CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! The Doctor is willing to scale a giant drainpipe full of chemicals to help his humans, despite his age and despite Susan’s protests, and is actually advocating thinking of others before thinking of oneself. I mean he doesn’t particularly care about the murder or the indiscriminate slaughter of small things all around him, but still, he now cares about literally twice as many people in the universe as he did at the beginning of the first series. Also he is actually displaying empathy here, which might be a first.

Meanwhile, back on the workbench, Ian has failed to find ankle-bathing water, but that’s ok because Babs is fine now. Apart from the shocking bruise on her knee, that is. I wonder is Barbara in some way related to Arthur Dent? Anyway, Ian wishes there’s something he could do to help her, but is it just me or is it quite nice to see them worrying about something so normal as a bumped knee? They go off exploring.

Back in the pipes, Susan is checking up on her Grandfather’s progress. Handholds and footholds or no handholds and footholds, it’s impressing that they are essentially scaling a crazy-high climbing wall without the aid of a safety harness. You go, Gallifreyans.

Meanwhile, Ian is pointing out features of interest such as Enormous Test Tubes to a politely interested Barbara. Which only adds to my ongoing collection of ‘post-Doctor Babs and Ian go on holiday’ headcanons. They come across a large pile of grain which looks to me an awful lot like giant Sugar Puffs. Which, after having consulted the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Wikipedia, I can confirm is because Sugar Puffs are in fact puffed-up grains of wheat. Which is what this is. Also, did you know that Sugar Puffs (well, Quaker Oats) helped finance the 1966 film The Dalek Invasion of Earth 2150AD? And that posters for said breakfast cereal can be seen all over the film? And that Sugar Puffs held a giveaway competition in which the grand prize was a Dalek prop from the film? WIKIPEDIA, WIKIPEDIA, WE THANK THEE FOR THIS BOON. But seriously, this is some of the best googling I’ve ever done.

Anyway, Babs doesn’t have access to Wikipedia and is clearly not a fan of Sugar Puffs, because she asks Ian whether he reckons it’s corn or wheat; Ian says wheat, so it must be true. He then turns his back for a couple of seconds while Barbara is a FUCKING IDIOT and picks up one of the grains to confirm that yes, this is wheat. Have you forgotten all about the Doctor telling the gang not to eat or drink anything (and by extension handle food and drink) because of the indiscriminate deadly insecticide, Babs? Having put it down, she realises it’s covered in sticky stuff like toffee. Maybe she’s not being dumb and actually thinks she’s come across a pile of Sugar Puffs?

Ian, however, is distracted by a book of litmus paper, and is so busy pretending to be a Shakespearean Emo mulling over how often he’s held such a piece of paper between his fingers that he doesn’t find it weird that Babs has asked for his handkerchief, nor notice that she is wiping her hands vigorously with it. Ian is also stupid this week. Having said that, it is rather poignant that Ian has found himself in his former work environment and that he is now using a book of litmus paper as a bench. The humans are bearing these insults to their reality that make it so utterly absurd rather well.

Anyway, Ian reckons that whatever is killing the insects has been sprayed onto the grain. Barbara, meanwhile, claims to have forgotten all about the Doctor’s warning about whatever killed the bugs being fatal to them, too. Because of course you’d forget something like that. Ian is so busy warning her not to touch stuff and pontificating about the distinctive aroma of the stuff that’s coating the wheat that he doesn’t notice how worried Barbara has suddenly become, how weird it is that she keeps scrubbing at her hands, OR THAT THE SMELL IS NOW ON HER AND THE HANDKERCHIEF. UGH this serial drives me crazy.

AND SHE DOESN’T TELL HIM SHE’S GOT THE DEADLY STUFF ALL OVER HER HANDS. I mean fair enough, at first it’s because he’s prattling away and not listening to her attempts to interject, BUT THEN WHEN HE'S ACTUALLY LISTENING SHE DOESN’T CONVEY VERY IMPORTANT INFORMATION FOR NO REASON AT ALL. BARBARA, I KNOW HE’S A FUSSPOT WHO WORRIES ABOUT YOU EVEN WHEN YOU’VE JUST BASHED YOUR KNEE ON A PAPERCLIP, BUT THIS IS NO TIME TO BE SO FUCKING STOICAL.

Babs is super downcast, but Ian doesn’t think this is so unusual and apparently takes this for perfectly normal despair. Even though Barbara is the kind of person who will tear a bed apart with her bare hands if there’s the slimmest chance it will help her crowbar her way out of prison. (In fairness, Babs never despairs when Susan’s around, but will occasionally get maudlin around Ian…but still, he should be more intuitive by now and know something is up.) He decides to cheer her up with blind optimism, suggesting all they need is a piece of string to get down to ground level. Then by heart breaks a bit, because Babs—automatically, it seems—corrects him, saying that at their size string is too thick, and what they need is a reel of cotton. And she catches herself. And suddenly the full ridiculousness of everything catches up with her. And she’s angry. And even though I’m pissed off that she’s being idiotic about this whole ‘probably dying but not going to tell anyone’ thing, I love that we get to see more of Barbara dealing with the absurd, because it’s consistent with the way she’s been going since The Aztecs and the way we saw her in The Reign of Terror. As I’ve said, being home (which they don’t mention at all) but the wrong size and having to scurry about like Borrowers is one insult too many to their sense of reality; they’re an inch high in their own world and it’s made home alien, and for Barbara at least this is the last fucking straw.

(It is at this point that I finally gain access to the DVD player for an evening, so expect gratuitous use of infotext from hereon in.)

Ian, who hasn’t employed the Chesterton Neck Pinch for a while, decides that the time is ripe to grab the bestie by the shoulders and give her a good shake. Because this is what being on Earth again does to Ian. Le sigh. However, he must be given token emotional intelligence points for telling Babs to forget about how absurd it all is and concentrate on getting back. Which is pretty much where their characters had been going all last season. Barbara, Barbara, don’t let the crazy grind you down. Although in this case a large part of Barbara’s mopey turn is because she is worried that she’s going to drop dead like that bumblebee from last week.

Anyway, Barbara rallies round, and Ian suggests they use the paperclips from the briefcase to make a ladder. Which, according to the infotext, ‘was Barbara’s idea until a late revision to the script’. THANK YOU, INFOTEXT, FOR THIS EVIDENCE OF BARBARA’S RESOURCEFULNESS BEING GIVEN AWAY TO IAN FOR REASONS. She suggests they also try to find out more about the death glaze (insecticide) in the briefcase, but is shot down by Ian who scoffs at her and says the other thing is much more important. AND INFOTEXT STRIKES AGAIN: ‘Ian wasn’t as dismissive of Barbara’s scripted suggestion that the briefcase would “tell us what they do here” either.’ SCRIPT REVISIONS, Y U MAKE IAN A DICKHEAD? Well, presumably for more dramatic tension, as Babs once again scrubs at her hands with Ian’s handkerchief like Lady Macbeth, but still, UGH.

Back in ‘the pipe of black drapes’ (thank you, infotext), the Doctor is bloody knackered but persevering.

Meanwhile, Ian is offscreen trying to figure out how to open the briefcase and refusing Barbara’s help. Because I swear to god the 1960s make Ian a bellend. He isn’t being particularly Sciency, but is just pushing the clasp; Babs suggest he tries right to left; ‘great minds think alike’, quoth Ian.

BUT OH WHAT’S THIS? IT’S A GIANT FLY! MOVING AROUND LIKE THE ANIMATRONIC MARVEL IT IS JUST BEHIND BARBARA…WHO HASN’T SEEN IT!

Ian opens the briefcase in manly triumph, but is somewhat deflated to discover that Babs is not sharing in his victory. That is because she is now staring at the giant fly with an expression on her face that is more resigned than terrified. As she backs away…SHE SWOONS! We have a swoon! Because this is what Barbara does in this serial. Mostly because she’s, Y’KNOW, DYING, but I don’t like how everyone’s meant to not notice she’s ill because ladies just swoon when they see giant flies. Especially ladies who have taken on Daleks and brains in jars and all manner of unsavoury characters without having had a fit of the vapours; it’s just what they do.

Enter Ian; the fly buzzes off, and he once again showcases his excellent fireman’s lift technique as he hoists Babs over his shoulder to…safety? I dunno, AWAY.

Oh but here come Smithers and Forester. Smithers sasses Forester about being so dumb he’s not noticed the blood all over the patio, then assures him that he’s just in it For The Science. And he has Crazy Eyes just so we know how much he’s in it For The Science.

AAAAAH and here comes possibly my favourite of the Giant Sets: THE SINK. With an actual plughole! Out of which the Doctor and Susan have clambered, and next to which the Doctor is currently lying flat on his back looking absolutely fucking knackered. Never before has a Doctor been so relatable when it comes to physical exertion. Soon, however, he’s giving Susan a lesson about echo chambers (the sink is acting like one) and admitting to not having a Scooby as to the whereabouts or indeed condition of the Space Baes.

And OH infotext, you have more gems for me: apparently, when Babs woke up from her swoon in the script, she struggled more against the Chesterton Shoulder Grab (applied with the superhuman reflexes of a man waiting for the Bae to regain consciousness) because she thought it was the fly savaging her—a thought conveyed through the following words: IS THIS THE GHASTLY EMBRACE? Oh Louis Marks.

Calmed by Ian’s slightly less ghastly embrace, Babs establishes her ok-ness, while Ian tells her she gave him ‘the fright of his life’ when he saw her standing lying there. Which is to be expected, because he loves you yeahhhh yeahhh yeahhhh. (Sorry, I’ll stop making Beatles jokes.) Oh Ian, babes, I’m glad you’re telling her about your Feelings but right now she’s more concerned about the whereabouts of the fly. Which buzzed off when the humans scared it...ONTO THE PILE OF SEEDS, WHERE IT LANDED AND DIED INSTANTLY.

RUH-ROH.

Babs, understandably shitting herself, demands to see the dead fly; Ian once again mistakes Barbara being legit worried about dying (BUT NOT TELLING ANYONE) for Barbara just being morbid, and tries to get into the mood, relishing telling her how it must have died the moment it landed. I…I can’t even lambast Ian for being an insensitive dick here, because reading his OTT speculations as to the fly’s hideous demise as a response to Babs staring at the dead fly like he’s trying to indulge Babs in her increasingly Susan-like antics is just too funny. Though BOY does he get it wrong: Babs yells at him to stop it and turns away having mild hysterics. And Ian is just like ‘IAN DID BAD THING!?’, trotting over to her side like a concerned puppy. Pausing only to touch his hands with her insecticide-infected hands without consequence—in much the same way that the Doctor gets the smelly insecticide on him from that dead bee with no harm done (ARGH!)—Babs looks like she’s about to stop being a tit and tell him she’s dying, when…

DAMMIT SUSAN! An amplified voice calls the humans’ names. Ian asks what Babs was about to tell him, and instead of telling him like a sensible person, Babs’s face lights up and she says it doesn’t matter because if they’ve found Susan it means they can get back to the ship. WHICH HELPS YOU HOW, BABS? I mean I’ve seen the end of this serial so I know getting back to the Tardis will indeed make everything ok, but do you at this point!?!? Ian punches her on the chin in delight, and off they pop in search of their Space Daughter.

Presenting: The Chesterton Chin Punch

Back in the sink, the Doctor is mansplaining acoustics to Susan the super-advanced space child who knows this baby science like the back of her hand. But hey, the Beeb has to inform its audience, so Susan has to be dumb again.

Over the edge of the sink appear our two favourite teachers, and Susan is so excited to see them she has to hug her grandfather a bit. Babs and Ian marvel at their having managed to climb that drainpipe, and look cheery at the prospect of climbing down it, the loons. But first they have to climb down what is to them a thirty-foot plug chain down to the sink; Ian asks Babs whether she thinks she can make it; Babs cheerily reckons she can, and that it’ll be worth it just to Susan and the Doctor again. FAMILY. In your face, Chesterton. Who insists on going first.

Outside, Smithers and Forester are clearing up the blood…which is now all over their hands so OH EM GEE THEY NEED TO USE THE SINK.

And sure enough, the Doctor alerts the gang to the low rumbling of giant human voices. Babs and Ian scarper back up the chain, and the Gallifreyans jump back down the plughole. How tense!

Smithers spots the dead fly and is enormously enthusiastic about the effects of DN6. Apparently he doesn’t now Farrow was trying to stop it because it worked too well.

Back in the briefcase, the humans emerge and observe with some consternation that the tap is on…and OH MY GOODNESS SMITHERS HAS PULLED THE PLUG PUT AND SUSAN AND THE DOCTOR WILL BE DROWNED FOR SURE!

WILL THE GALLIFREYANS SURVIVE THIS ORDEAL BY WATER? WILL BARBARA STOP BEING A PRAT AND ACTUALLY TELL SOMEONE SHE'S DEFINITELY PROBABLY DYING AT SOME POINT? WILL IAN INVENT STILL MORE WEIRDLY COMBATIVE GESTURES OF AFFECTION/COMFORT TO MATCH THE CHESTERTON NECK PINCH, THE CHESTERTON SHOULDER RUB, AND THE CHESTERTON CHIN PUNCH? WILL THE GANG EVER GET BACK TO THEIR NORMAL SIZE, OR WILL THEY BE KNEE HIGH TO THUMBELINA FOR ALL ETERNITY?

Summary (as applicable to this episode)

Does it pass the Bechdel test? By a cat's whisker and only because I'm feeling generous.

Is the gaze problematic? Nope.

Is/are the woman companion(s) dressed 'for the Dads'? Nope. High necks and dungarees all round.

Does a woman fall over/twist her ankle (whilst running from peril)? YUP (yup).

Does a woman wander off alone for the sole dramatic purpose of getting into trouble so she can be rescued later? Nope. Though Barbara loitering behind for the sole dramatic purpose of getting into trouble so she can be a plot point later is a variant of the same.

Is/are the woman companion(s) captured? Both Ian and Barbara are sort of captured when they're carried off in a briefcase.

Does the Doctor/a man companion/any other man have to rescue the woman companion(s) from peril? Ian has to fireman's lift Babs...somewhere?

Is a woman placed under threat of actual bodily harm? Yup. Babs is now dying.

Does a woman have to deal with a sexual predator? Nope.

Is/are the woman companion's/s' first/only reaction(s) to peril gratuitous screaming? No, but there is swooning.

Does a woman faint at the sight of peril/horror or generally lose consciousness (discounting normal sleep)? Yes. Though a case could be made for Barbara's fainting fit as an early symptom of having been poisoned by insecticide.

Does a woman companion go into hysterics over something reasonably minor? To Ian, Babs probably goes into hysterics over something relatively minor, but we know she's freaking out because she knows she's probably going to die. 

Is a woman 'spared' the ordeal of having to do/witness something unpleasant by a man who makes a decision on her behalf/keeps her deliberately ignorant? Nope, this week it's Babs not letting on. Which brings me to another new category...

Does a woman suffer in silence (to further the plot)? AND HOW.

Does a man automatically disbelieve or belittle something a woman (companion) says happened to her? Yes ish, as Ian refuses to believe that Susan and he have been shrunk.

Does a man talk over a woman or talk about a woman as though she isn't there? Not enormously.

Does the woman companion have to be calmed/comforted by the Doctor/a man companion/a man? Yup.

Is a woman the first/only person to be (most gratuitously) menaced by the episode's antagonist(s)? Nope.

Is a man shamed into doing/not doing something because the alternative is a woman doing/not doing something? No. Though the Doctor does take it upon himself to climb a wall he's least suited to climb because the alternative is Babs doing it.

Does the woman companion come up with a plan? No. And as the infotext tells us, Babs's plan about paperclips is actually given to Ian in the revised script. BOO.

Does the woman companion do something stupid/banal/weird which inspires a man to be a Man with a Plan? No.

Does a woman come up with a theory and is it ridiculed by the Doctor/a man? No.

Does a woman call the Doctor out on his bullshit? No need this week.

Does a woman get to be a badass? No. Well, Susan a bit, with the whole scaling-a-drainpipe thing, though so does the Doctor.

Is the young, strong, straight, white male lead the person most often in control of the situation? No.

Is there past/future/alien sexism? It's the present day, so N/A. 

Does a 'present'-day character call anybody out on past/future/alien sexism? N/A.

Does an past/future/alien person have the hots for a woman companion and is it reciprocated? N/A.

Did a woman write/direct/produce this episode? No/No/Yes.

Verdict

More entertaining than last episode, but CHRIST ON A BIKE the humans are dumb this week. Barbara doesn't tell Ian she's probably dying PURELY to rack up the dramatic tension and (later) get Team Tardis invested in the whole insecticide plot, and Ian (who ought to know Babs better by now) fails to notice that a) she's not just being morbid this week and b) she's wandering around with his handkerchief that must surely have that distinctive smell of insecticide all over it (as must she). I do appreciate all the little moments the humans have had this week dealing with reality slapping them in the face (Babs catching herself talking about shinning down a workbench on a reel of cotton and almost losing it is one of my favourite moments this week), and I really appreciate this ongoing thread (no pun intended) of them having to deal with not only danger but also situations that are so ridiculous as to rob them of all human dignity. The sets are particularly gorgeous this week (LOVE THAT SINK SET), and I adore the Doctor's little pep talk to Susan in which he actually shows empathy towards his humans. Susan has a lot of gumption this week and is adorable when she's waving up from the sink, but I really don't appreciate it when the writers make her dumb so the Doctor can educate the kids at home. Next week, let's not have women being uncharacteristically stupid just to further the plot, ok? Ok. 

Series 2 Episode 1: Planet of Giants

Serial: Planet of Giants
Episode: 1 (Planet of Giants)
Doctor: William Hartnell
Companions: Barbara, Ian, and Susan

Writer: Louis Marks
Director: Mervyn Pinfield
Producer: Verity Lambert
Original Air Date: 31/10/1964

NOT THE BEES!!! (and other stories)

In which Classic Who goes eco, the humans are dumb, Babs and the Doctor are besties, the sets are gorgeous, the insects are enormous, the continuity is annoying, and Team Tardis finally makes it back to Earth in the 1960s but nobody really wants to talk about it.

Welcome to Series 2! A note on this serial: I’m going to be blogging about this Borrowers-inspired romp as three episodes rather than four, just to save time, and because actually a lot of the stuff that got cut for the original broadcast was in fact pointless filler mostly involving shenanigans at the switchboard. Where genuine character development got cut, I will bring it into the mix; the same goes for scenes that make Barbara ‘I’m definitely dying but I’m not going to tell anybody because of reasons’ Wright look like less of a dick, because I’m biased like that. But this way it takes three weeks instead of four. Onwards!

So we left out motley crew looking for their destiny amongst the stars. We rejoin them in the Tardis control room, in which Barbara, resplendent in the most buttoned-up of buttoned-up blouses, is watching the Doctor faff about with the controls. He has a fancy new cape and looks fabulous.

The Doctor announces that they’re approaching a planet, which brings Ian into the frame, looking very teacherly in a suit and tie. He asks which one; the Doctor says they shall see. At this point, Barbara yells in pain, having burned herself on the console; apparently something is overheating. The Doctor sends Susan off to check the fault locator, and a worried Babs asks—not unreasonably—whether they’re going to blow up or anything. Ian, having stared at her burnt hand for a bit, pats her laughingly on the back, like the patronising sod he was the last time he wore a suit. REMEMBER THE EDGE OF DESTRUCTION, IAN—Babs’s concerns are in no way invalid. Anyway, the Doctor’s been trying to side-step the ship from the eighteenth century into the twentieth, which is probably what’s up with the console.

Susan, decked out in dungarees, goes to check the fault locator, which has indeed located some faults. And HOLY KLAXONS BATMAN, the Tardis doors are opening! The Doctor yells for everyone to close the doors, which they finally manage to do; the Doctor mops his brow. And oh phew, they’ve just landed. Ironically, for this serial, the Tardis miniature they use for such shots is entirely appropriate.

Ian is rather sweet with his Space Bro and swoops over to check he’s ok; the Doctor asks Ian not to bother him. He orders Susan back to the fault locator, and when Babs (reasonably I think) says that at least they seem to be all right, he tells her off for being childish, and seems fixated on the fact that the doors opened before they properly materialised. Rude. When Ian and Babs want to know what the big deal is, the Doctor is frustrated that they are ‘talking on the 20th century level’ and is making a big song and dance about being terribly misunderstood.

At this point, Susan pops up to tell her grandfather there isn’t a fault anywhere…which I wouldn’t find comforting at all given that it didn’t say anything was wrong in The Edge of Destruction either. The Doctor doesn’t take Susan’s word for it and goes off to check it himself; Susan looks pissed off, as well she might.

Ian and Barbara are disgruntled, but then they remember that Susan actually knows stuff about how the Tardis works, too; after an unflatteringly long pause, they ask whether she can maybe translate the Doctor’s cryptic bullshit for them. Susan just knows the most dangerous moment is at the point of materialisation, and that the doors have never opened like that before.

The Doctor returns from double-checking Susan’s work and has also come to the conclusion that no harm has been done. He doesn’t apologise to his granddaughter for doubting her abilities but he does apologise to Barbara, and it makes me realise just where Moffatt and Gatiss got Sherlock’s modern-day personality from:

Gifs by cleowho

Clearly I’m not the only one who remembers The Edge of Destruction in this serial—specifically the epic tongue-lashing Barbara gave the Doctor the last time he was being a tool. Also, this is adorable.

Anyway, Susan turns on the scanner to see where they are, and BOOSH! The scanner explodes. How ominous. Hilariously, Ian suggests the Doctor might need a new tube, which I realise will mean nothing to anyone who grew up with an LCD telly display. I, however, have a Dad who is a massive nerd and who enjoys explaining these things to a less-than-captive audience. Just google cathode ray tube.

Anyway, the shock of the explosion has apparently caused the Doctor and Barbara to do a spot of clinging for mutual moral support, and the Doctor speculates that the way the screen blew out was like something was too big for its frame. Which is gorgeously imaginative I have to say, but I would’ve thought that if (spoiler alert) they have been shrunk (oh come on, everyone knows the basic premise of this one) the picture wouldn’t be too big to fit in the frame because that’s not how the telly works.

The upshot of this is that they don’t know what’s waiting for them out there; formerly unwilling adventurer Barbara Wright suggests they go outside and look. How quickly they grow up.

Susan opens the door, and the Doctor advises the team to exercise caution. Ian lags behind so the Doctor can tell him, man-to-man and all that, what made the doors open. The Doctor says the space pressure was too great, technobabble-technobabble, and that the strange thing is that they all came out of it unscathed; he looks positively delighted at the fact that he hasn’t a fucking Scooby what’s going on.

Outside, Babs reckons they’re in a mountain pass or something. The Doctor wonders why the scanner couldn’t just show them that, and Ian suggests the only thing wrong with the ship might be overloading on the scanner circuits. Yeah, Ian, because a science degree from Earth in what I’m going to assume is the late 1950s really qualifies you for diagnosing faults in a dimensionally-transcendental space-time travel machine. Far more so than, y’know, SUSAN, who can only co-pilot the bloody thing.

Babs and Susan are busy examining the rocks, and the Doctor (who is swishing about in his cape like a pro) calls Ian over to confirm something a bit more in his comfort zone, namely whether they are in fact looking at cement. Anyway, the Doctor suggests that he and Barbara go exploring one way, while Ian and Susan go the other way. Whether it’s because the Doctor’s bagsied Babs or because, as has been established in previous episodes, Ian has developed an entirely rational fear of splitting up, his reaction is priceless:

Ian agrees on condition that if they see anything, they’ll ‘sing out’; Team Barbator (for this is what I shall call them) agrees.

The Doctor just can’t get over this rock, but is rudely interrupted by Barbara, who has found a huge snake that is quite obviously a giant earthworm. Because they made Barbara really, really dumb in this serial. And that angers me. The Doctor, however, is utterly delightful, and assures Barbara that the ‘snake’ is dead with gleeful morbidity:

Well, he’s not wrong. They go out of shot, clinging…obv. Because they are ludicrously cute together.

Meanwhile, Ian and Susan are commenting on how hot it is and discovering giant, pill-shaped eggs…AND A DEAD, GIANT ANT. (Though if Ian thinks this is a fantastic size, he should wait until he gets to Vortis.) Ian has a weird little Freudian aside about worker ants who would rather give their own lives than abandon the eggs (broody much?), while Morbid Susan speculates as to the swiftness of the ant’s tragic demise. With almost Snape-like delivery, Ian wonders aloud ‘what sort of a world…could produce an insect…THAT SIZE’.

Elsewhere, Team Barbator has found the other end of the ‘snake’, which the Doctor pronounces a giant earthworm; if it weren’t for its size, he could swear it came from Barbara’s world. Well. He also reckons this maze of passages suggests a brain behind it all. How mysterious.

Meanwhile (again), Susan has been counting the dead ants, because of course; they’re all about them, everywhere. Then they come across something ‘really baffling’—an enormous picture of a seed packet. And the address is…NORWICH! Which means they’re on Earth!

Ok, I’ll actually stop to analyse this bit, partly because I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone this excited about Norwich who isn’t Stephen Fry, and partly because this is how Ian reacts to the possibility that they actually made it home. He has a gorgeous little fluttery moment to himself but immediately starts talking about something being very wrong. Maybe they’re in a crazy exhibition where everything has been increased in size…which is plausible, tbh. Perhaps it’s just lazy writing, but I choose to believe that actually being faced with the possibility that their adventures are over has made Ian realise he doesn’t want them to be over. That’s my headcanon and I’m sticking to it: it doesn’t feel wrong because there’s a scale issue, Ian, it feels wrong because you’re not ready to go home yet.

Meanwhile, the Doctor has found a giant and obviously manufactured wooden object…which he knocks over. He and Barbara cling to each other because of course. Babs spots the charred end of the stick, and the Doctor realises it’s a matchstick. Babs corrects him—it just looks like a matchstick; but no, the Doctor is convinced it actually is a matchstick. And Babs still doesn’t get it. Which is stupidly out of character because of the two humans Barbara has consistently been the one who, when faced with a new reality, however ludicrously improbable, has just gone with it; she was also the one who had the imagination to translate the Tardis’s attempts to communicate in The Edge of Destruction. But no. This serial, Babs is unimaginative and slow. And makes really stupid choices. I can and will defend them in the context of her character development if I must, but mostly I think it’s just shitty, shitty writing.

We cut back to Ian and Susan, so that we can prolong the obvious reveal. In fairness, it is called Planet of Giants, which suggests that they might have landed in Space Brobdingnag, but enough already. They have found a matchbox. So obviously Ian climbs inside, still sticking to his exhibition story. But Susan—who, thank Zarquon, actually gets to know stuff this week—tells him he’s completely wrong (yeah Susan!) and that they have in fact been made smaller. With dramatic music. Which I thought I recognised, because lo and behold this is the first episode with incidental music by Dudley Simpson! It sounds so very Four.

Cut to the Doctor and Babs, who repeats ‘smaller?’ with some incredulity. I’ll give this serial gender points for making the smart/stupid divide a Gallifreyan/human one rather than a male/female one, I suppose. Anyway, they’ve been reduced to roughly the size of an inch.

‘AN INCH!?’ repeats Ian, back in the matchbox. Wow this back-and-forth parallel conversations thing is annoying. I suppose it keeps the pace up, but because they’re doing it as live, it’s not quite as snappy as it ought to be and just feels laboured. There are a lot of awkward pauses.

The Doctor confirms with Babs that this applies to them and indeed the ship; Babs gives him her best ‘FUCKSAKE’ face.

Ok so I said I could defend this from a character development point of view even if I remain of the opinion that Babs tends to go with stuff while Ian staunchly refuses to accept things that go against his notion of what is scientifically possible. These humans have been through a lot. A LOT. They’ve accepted that it is possible to travel in time and space, and that time travel has rules, and that anything goes in space. I think their unwillingness to make the imaginative leap whereby they have been shrunk in size has a lot to do with where they are: home. Home has rules which they think they know, and here they are trying to come to grips with some Gulliver’s Travels-style shit that makes a mockery of the familiar. To paraphrase Babs from later on in this serial, her complaint is that it’s just so fucking ridiculous.

Anyway, there’s a fantastic zoom-out shot from the model Tardis which is of course the model they use for (de)materialisation shots all the time only this time they can actually plonk it in the middle of some Crazy Paving:

The Doctor tells Babs they ought to reassemble the squad and get the hell out of Dodge; Ian, meanwhile, is flatly refusing to believe the truth as related to him by a superior mind (Susan). I must say I’m enjoying how much Susan gets to tell Ian he’s wrong this week. Though the pseudo-science of the doors of Tardis opening and the space pressure shrinking them does sound pretty daft. But I don’t care, because Susan is well and truly back in the game this week. Thank the Whoniverse.

But oh what’s this? A shadow passes overhead, and thunderous noises…er…thunder. Ian tells Susan to run, and fails to exit the matchbox. We return to the usual scale as a passing human picks up said matchbox from the ground…with Ian inside!

I have to say, the continuity is pretty bad here, as the matchbox is clearly much further away from the seed packet in the normal scale than the giant scale, and is really far away from the Tardis. Also, the matchbox and the seed packet are ON THE GRASS at ground level rather than in the cracks in the pavement, which is where Team Tardis is meant to be according to the giant sets, so Ian and Susan would have a clear view up to the house if they’re supposed to be standing by the matchbox. I mention this only because the Borrowers-style sets are so gorgeous and actually convincing that it’s enormously disappointing when the unshrunk world doesn’t match up with it. Also, has the human left his briefcase lying on the ground all this time, or did he put it down to pick up the matchbox? Argh!

Anyway, Susan emerges from behind the seed packet to find the matchbox has gone, and immediately hollers for Barbara (because of course), and Babs appears from behind the seed packet, too. She cannot have been that close-by or OH what’s the use. Sorry, I know there are constraints, and I am the first to appreciate the many difficulties of filming ‘as live’ in the 60s, but it annoys me when so much effort has been put into creating the spatiality of the giant world of the miniaturised travellers and it’s undermined by that one half-assed shot of the normal-sized world.

Susan has hysterics and Babs cuddles her (possibly to muffle the noise), and the Doctor with SUPERB Billy nonchalance supposes someone must’ve picked it up.

Meanwhile, in the matchbox, William Russell is doing ‘being flung from side to side’ acting like he’s in that episode of Brideshead Revisited where they’re on a crazy choppy sea cruise. The man with the matchbox sits on a chair and mops his brow; Ian massages his shoulder.

Ian stuck in a matchbox forever may be my greatest
technological achievement to date.

Back in the pavement cracks (SUPPOSEDLY), Susan is quite literally climbing the walls. As in The Reign of Terror, she is too much of a short-arse to see over the parapet, so Babs volunteers, only to be told by the Doctor she’ll only hurt herself and that he’ll do it. Even though he is shorter, older, and frailer than Barbara. Fucksake. Barbara’s half-lifting him up, and there’s some gorgeous squabbling between the two of them as she asks him whether the man's got the matchbox or not. Irritatingly the Doctor seems to be the only calm one of the three as he insists that they must find Chesterton before getting back to the ship. Which is endearing when you think how far the Space Bros have come in terms of the Doctor no longer being willing to leave a human behind (possibly he know Babs would skin him alive if he did) but Susan in particular is being a panicky mess. DESIST.

The man with the briefcase has a cat, and is about to reach for a match to light his deathstick cigarette when a lighter hoves into view, attached to a man who is clearly a wrongun. (Also, is this the first time a character has lit up on Classic Who? I’m going to say yes.) Anyway, the briefcase man is a sciency government guy (I think) called Mr. Farrow, and he’s been testing a new something called DN6, and has called the wrongun (whose name is Mr. Forester) to talk about it. To cut a long story short, DN6 is an insecticide, but unfortunately it’s not just effective but totally destructive and will wipe out pollinators and generally cause eco mayhem. Which the scientist who worked on it (Smithers!) apparently missed whilst working on it. CLASSIC WHO GOES ECO AND I’M LOVING IT. Ahem. But Mr. Forester is a businessman who has already put all his dosh into marketing DN6, and if it can’t be made, he’ll be ruined. He also doesn’t give a shit about the bees. And doesn’t take the word ‘can’t’ for an answer. Even when Mr. Farrow burns him good:

TAKE THAT, TRU-…I MEAN FORESTER.

Having told Forester that DN6 is an eco disaster waiting to happen, Farrow now wants to take a boating holiday on the rivers of France (I mean really) but is stopped in his tracks by FORESTER PULLING A GUN ON HIM. SHOCKER!

Back in the trenches, a dead bee drops out of the sky and almost brains Susan. The Doctor starts imagining what human versus bee would look like in a world in which they were the same size. Weirdo. He prods the dead bee, then sniffs his own hand and comments on the distinctive aroma of all the dead things he’s encountered so far. These are all things that will bother me immensely in the coming episodes because continuity.

Susan comments on the indiscriminate nature of whatever’s killing the insects, and Babs asks the Doctor whether whatever’s killing everything could also kill them; the Doctor says they’ll have to assume so, and that nobody is to eat or drink anything until they find Ian.

'BOOM!'

A cannon-like noise sounds from on high. And OH CRUMBS, poor old Farrow is the first smoking casualty of Doctor Who, and has been rather bloodlessly shot. At this point, Ian pokes his head out of the matchbox, and clambers out.

Back in the maze, Babs wonders what would’ve happened if they’d met any live giant creepy-crawlies. The Web Planet AMAZING TELLY is what.

Meanwhile, Ian is striding across a screen showing dead Farrow’s enormous face. Rather than seeming concerned that he’s staring into the eyes of an enormous corpse, he gets out his handkerchief to measure the scale of the destruction.

Then there’s a rather puzzling time jump, or else we’re supposed to believe that the squad has been reunited in the time it takes for a cat to scamper across the floor, because now everyone’s catching up. The Doctor can smell gunpowder; superderp Ian reckons that would explain the body. DERP.

The Doctor sits on a piece of chalk the better to observe the giant corpse; Babs observes that there’s death all around them, continuing her morbid streak. Everyone’s less concerned about the human murder than the bees and worms, which is refreshing and makes sense at their size. It also makes sense given how many random deaths they've witnessed, possibly to the point that the humans are now desensitised to human slaughter. Babs asks the Doctor (not Ian) to confirm that killing bees and worms is wrong, which he does, just in case we forgot that this is a show to educate the youth. But enough of that; the Doctor suggests they leave ‘this little mystery’—by which he means murder and the indiscriminate slaughter of local wildlife—and fuck off back to the Tardis, pausing to note only how it’s actually worked out pretty well for them that everything’s dead. So very, very Slytherin.

But OH MY GOODNESS LET’S ALL CLING! Because the cat has returned…and it’s either very close up or ENORMOUS.

WILL THE PACE PICK UP? WILL THE SCALE ISSUES RESOLVE THEMSELVES? WILL THE DOCTOR GROW A CONSCIENCE AND ACTUALLY GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE ECO STUFF? WILL BARBARA REVERT TO AN UNEARTHLY CHILD-STYLE BURYING HER FACE IN IAN’S TEACHERY JACKET AT THE FIRST SIGN OF DANGER AS SHE HAS DONE IN THIS CLIFFHANGER, OR WILL SHE SHOWCASE HER SENSIBLE AND PRACTICAL BADASS NATURE IN THE COMING EPISODES? WILL SUSAN GET TO KNOW MORE SCIENCY THINGS? WILL ANYONE ACKNOWLEDGE HOW SHITTY IT IS THAT THEY’RE HOME BUT THE WRONG SIZE?

Summary (as applicable to this episode)

Does it pass the Bechdel test? Yes but fleetingly.

Is the gaze problematic? Nope.

Is/are the woman companion(s) dressed 'for the Dads'? Nope. High necks and dungarees all round.

Does a woman fall over/twist her ankle (whilst running from peril)? Nope.

Does a woman wander off alone for the sole dramatic purpose of getting into trouble so she can be rescued later? Nope.

Is/are the woman companion(s) captured? Nope. Ian, however, is sort of captured insofar as he is carried off in a matchbox.

Does the Doctor/a man companion/any other man have to rescue the woman companion(s) from peril? Nope.

Is a woman placed under threat of actual bodily harm? Not until the end, when everyone is menaced by a cat. Ian and the guy who got shot are mostly getting hurt.

Does a woman have to deal with a sexual predator? Nope.

Is/are the woman companion's/s' first/only reaction(s) to peril gratuitous screaming? Yup. And clinging.

Does a woman companion go into hysterics over something reasonably minor? I think Susan's reaction to Ian having 'disappeared' is a little off, given that she's the one who worked out they'd been shrunk so surely she also ought to have twigged that someone picked up the box.

Is a woman 'spared' the ordeal of having to do/witness something unpleasant by a man who makes a decision on her behalf/keeps her deliberately ignorant? No, though Ian seems to think it might be one of those situations judging by how he takes the Doctor aside before exiting the Tardis.

Does a man automatically disbelieve or belittle something a woman (companion) says happened to her? Yes ish, as Ian refuses to believe that Susan and he have been shrunk.

Does a man talk over a woman or talk about a woman as though she isn't there? Not enormously.

Does the woman companion have to be calmed/comforted by the Doctor/a man companion/a man? Yup.

Is a woman the first/only person to be (most gratuitously) menaced by the episode's antagonist(s)? Nope.

Is a man shamed into doing/not doing something because the alternative is a woman doing/not doing something? No. Though the Doctor does take it upon himself to climb a wall he's least suited to climb because the alternative is Babs doing it.

Does the woman companion come up with a plan? No. Well, Susan comes up with the 'let's look over the wall' plan, but there's not really a plan this week except 'find Ian and fuck off', and that's the Doctor's plan.

Does the woman companion do something stupid/banal/weird which inspires a man to be a Man with a Plan? No.

Does a woman come up with a theory and is it ridiculed by the Doctor/a man? Yes. Barbara is worried that the Tardis is going to blow up and is ridiculed, and Susan's theory about having shrunk is flatly disbelieved by Ian.

Does a woman call the Doctor out on his bullshit? No need this week as the Doctor apologises for his bullshit before Barbara can take him to task for it, but there are some very endearing squabbles between the two.

Does a woman get to be a badass? No.

Is the young, strong, straight, white male lead the person most often in control of the situation? No.

Is there past/future/alien sexism? It's the present day, so N/A. 

Does a 'present'-day character call anybody out on past/future/alien sexism? N/A.

Does an past/future/alien person have the hots for a woman companion and is it reciprocated? N/A.

Did a woman write/direct/produce this episode? No/No/Yes.

Verdict

I love the ideas and the eco stuff in this episode, and I love the sets, but for some reason this serial isn’t quite working for me so far. It’s really slow, and so are the characters, with the exception of the Doctor (and Susan to a lesser degree when she’s showing Ian his wrongness). The bits where it’s great are where the actors are building on the relationships the characters have forged in previous serials (Barbara and the Doctor squabbling is the best), but it’s not really in the script so much as the acting. I like that Susan gets to know stuff this week, but she’s right back to shrieking at stuff and only gets to be smart when the Doctor’s offscreen. I think one of the main things that bugs me about this episode is that this is the humans’ world. Ok, so they need the Doctor and Susan to explain that they’ve been shrunk, but this is the only thing about this time and place they don’t understand; to be asking the Doctor to explain things about their own world to them (like bees being necessary to the ecosystem and all that) just makes the humans seem dumb. And surely Ian as a Science teacher ought to have more to say about all this. And nobody cares about the fact that there’s been a murder! Though as I say, this may be part of a disturbing character development arc whereby the humans are gradually becoming desensitised to violence, or have like Barbara realised that they're pretty-much surrounded by death at all times. All in all, too much has gone into making it look gorgeous (which it absolutely does) and the concept of an insecticide that kills indiscriminately (which I think is a great issue to be tackling in the show), and the character development has suffered. Let’s hope it picks up next week.