23/11/13
“The Happiness Patrol”
So,
that's it, the last McCoy story I hadn't seen before. “The
Happiness Patrol” tends to polarize people, but then all Doctor
Who stories go in and out of
fashion. I think I liked this story less than I did “Paradise
Towers,” which was similar in many ways, but then again, it took me
awhile to appreciate “Paradise Towers.” Like “Paradise
Towers,” “The Happiness Patrol” has an obsession with studio
sets and go-karts. Although the city on Terra Alpha is supposed to
be artificial, the studio sets and the bright lights—always the
bane of the '80s—make it quite unconvincing. The
“teaser”--the scene with Daphne S being arrested—strikes one as
an immediate candidate for the successful application of the film
noir techniques the director wanted to use. However, I don't know if
the whole thing would have succeeded in this way without drastic
changes to the costumes, which would make no sense in black and
white.
These
things are, let's face it, largely superficial to the story (though
many fans didn't see it that way). And as a story, I think this
proves that McCoy era Doctor Who does unfortunately suffer
from condensing together of what can be confusing or at the very
least challenging material. It's not often you say that a story from
Classic Who needs another
episode, but “Happiness Patrol” and “Ghost Light” are
desperately in need of same. Although its problems are not nearly as
bad as in boring, repetitive, interminable “Terminus,”' there are
some very imaginative ideas
that just don't gel in execution. The Pipe People actually look
quite cool, I thought, but I couldn't understand a word they were
saying, and there wasn't enough background on them to make them
particularly sympathetic. McCoy era Doctor Who seems
to have a monopoly in “cool” American characters who for me are
far more glaring in their falseness than Peri not really being
American. Earl, for example, screams disaffected Cartmel Masterplan
to me, and the fact that the actor is not particularly good robs the
idea of any permanence. Even Pex seemed more believable. And the
parallels were also rampant with “Dragonfire,” with the rather
grating philosophers being transferred to a discussion on consenting
to violence:
The
Doctor : "Of course he will. That's what guns are for. Pull a
trigger. End a life. Simple, isn't it?'"
Sniper
1 : Yes.
The
Doctor : "Makes sense, doesn't it?"
Sniper
1 : "Yes."
The
Doctor : "A life, killing life."
Sniper
2 : "Who are you?"
The
Doctor : "Shut up. Why don't you do it then? Look me in the eye.
Pull the trigger. End my life."
Sniper
1 : "No."
The
Doctor : "Why not?"
Sniper
1 : "I can't."
The
Doctor : "Why not?"
Sniper
1 : "I don't know."
The
Doctor : "You don't, do you?”
These
characters and their drop-ins via Beckett are okay singly, but crop
up so frequently as to be annoying. I prefer these guys to the
Alvaro and Tulloch ones.
The
Kandy Man is a mixed bag. Not being familiar with Bertie Bassett, I
can't comment on that level of design, but it is a very bold design
and, as mentioned by the writer, Graeme Curry, it has a sheen of
fairy-tale-like quality to it that wouldn't be out of character with
Moffat-era Doctor Who. Kandy Man's voice is freaky in the
extreme, but the fact that the costume hinders his movement so
visibly, and the fact that he's disabled so easily and repeatedly by
the Doctor using fizzy lemonade—it really detracts from any real
menace. That said, the candy kitchen set is amazing, and the Kandy
Man's underexplored relationship with his creator, Gilbert M, is
thrillingly sinister. The fondant surprise mode of death is
actually disappointing for being such a favorite of Helen A's.
Obviously
Doctor Who at this
stage could not depict the kind of uprising from the factories that
was implicit in the script (it could barely depict a town square and
a forum). Its ideas are a bit too big for its frame. The factory
drones (killjoys) who remove their black top hats and diaphanous
coverings seemed to be referencing the Batcave a bit too late!
Surprisingly,
this is not a great story for Ace. She threatens a lot but doesn't
do much. She gets to be incredibly outraged, but due to the
shortness of the story, she does a lot of escaping and then getting
drafted back into the Happiness Patrol, which diminishes her
effectiveness—why even bother with her character if that's all
she's going to contribute?--and also lessens how much you might fear
that the Happiness Patrol mean business. They were disappointing
overall. Despite the fact they carried guns, their mobile prison
idea didn't quite work as there never seemed to be real consequences.
And there was obviously some kind of scene missing when Ace met
Susan Q. The costumes are a car crash that I feel I can't look away
from. How interesting would this story be if it was made for Eleven
and Clara? What would the costumes look like then? Would it be a
dose of “The Beast Below?”
I
had mixed feelings about the Doctor in this story, too. His power in
this story was quite frightening in a way. He brought down a regime
in 24 hours, but he did so (at least as far as we know) based only on
a few hours' observation. Of course, as he told Ace, he had heard
rumors about Terra Alpha, so perhaps his mind had already been made
up. The Doctor's attempt at “As
Time Goes By” and his encouraging laughter at the Happiness Patrol
rang dispiritedly false. It was one of the few times I've felt close
to cringing when watching Sylvester McCoy act.
Despite
the acknowledged critique of the Thatcherite government, I didn't see
it as being all that obvious. Perhaps it's historical or
geographical distance, but I didn't feel bombarded with that
interpretation. On the other hand, the culture created here is very
intriguing because, like most tyrants, Helen A believes she's doing
the right thing. The opening scene and its fascist overtones linked
up very nicely for me with The
Master and Margarita, and
that Bakhtin-esque tone suffused “HP” in its best moments.
Harold
P's betrayal of Helen A is up there with Krau Timmen's betrayal of
Morgus in “Caves of Androzani.” I did not see that coming.
I
felt a lot of sympathy for Fifi, actually, for surely she (he?) is
only fulfilling her nature when she is sent down the pipes to chase
and attack people? I was actually quite sad when Fifi died, though
of course it was the ironic end that justified the entire story.
Helen A only got a bit miffed and perhaps fearful when Harold P left
her; her love for Fifi proved she was human after all.