The Doomsday Machine by: Norman Spinrad and directed by: Marc Daniels

 

“The Doomsday Machine” is written by Norman Spinrad and is directed by Marc Daniels.  It was filmed under production code 35, was the 6^th episode of Star Trek Season 2, the 35^th episode of Star Trek, and was broadcast on October 20, 1967.

 

Star Trek as a series exploring the universe often has a tendency to make the stakes of an episode an entire planet or larger, but what’s fascinating about going through the series week by week for the first time is that “The Doomsday Machine” is the first episode to make these larger stakes feel real.  The fear of nuclear annihilation was prescient in a world five years out from the Cuban Missile Crisis, and writer Norman Spinrad had an unpublished novella, The Planet Eater, that was rejected by several publishers.  Spinrad pitched the novella’s idea to Gene Roddenberry who saw the potential for it to be made as a bottle episode, and “The Doomsday Machine” being a bottle episode assists in making the stakes real.  The horror of the episode comes from the fact that the Enterprise crew are against an entity bent on destruction.  Sure, it’s a robot, but it’s an intelligent robot that targets whatever energy and life it detects which is converted to energy propelling it to the next source of energy.  It’s out there and it’s still moving, there are planets in it's way.  While there is a model used for the creature, it’s an almost amorphous design and clearly not meant to be comprehended by the viewer or characters.  It had an open mouth that consumes and that’s it.  This leaves “The Doomsday Machine” to be an episode that plays out like a cosmic horror story, complete with a character losing their mind to the horrors beyond their comprehension.  There are infinite lives at stake and the small hints of destruction in the model shots showing asteroids and the reuse of the Enterprise sets to show the heavily damaged Constellation are incredibly effective at accomplishing this.

 

“The Doomsday Machine” is surprisingly one of the few episodes of the series that doesn’t place its focus on the main trio of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy, instead placing the main thrust and drive of the story under Commadore Matt Decker, played by William Windom, the one surviving crewmember and commander of the Constellation, found alive in a fugue state in the damaged ship by Kirk and Scotty.  In the grand scheme of a cosmic horror story, Decker is the man who has touched the Old Ones and lost his mind due to it, though in this script it isn’t just seeing the destruction of multiple planets in this system, it’s also Decker’s logical decision to send his crew to the planet to avoid the creature’s destruction.  The creature then promptly destroyed the planet, and while this reveal in the episode is seen a mile off, the anguish in Windom’s performance sells it.  Decker is wracked with survivor’s guilt and is motivated by wanting to destroy the entity by any means necessary, though is blinded by that guilt and rage.  Spock and McCoy spend most of the episode accompanying him on the Enterprise, both attempting to circumvent everybody’s destruction as Decker’s plans would lead to more deaths.  Spock, in a very subdued performance from Leonard Nimoy, is also willing to sacrifice other planets if it means getting the information to Starfleet, reflecting real world events surrounding intelligence agencies during World War II.

 

Decker’s final self-sacrifice is perhaps the darkest moment of the episode, and one of the darker moments of any Star Trek episode thus far, it being a sacrifice of destroying himself and a shuttlecraft in an attempt to save the day and this destruction doing nothing.  Well, almost nothing, it does allow the episode to turn it’s focus back on Kirk and build the tension to the final destruction of the Constitution used to inactivate the creature, leaving it hanging in space, but once the futility is over the episode then loses it’s cosmic horror edge and becomes a more standard thriller story.  Kirk’s the one to set up the explosion and save the day, but it honestly feels like it was just written because Spinrad and the production team knew they had to end happily and couldn’t kill off Kirk.  There were ways to mitigate this small mark against the episode, perhaps by having a redshirt be the one to save the day and press the button while Kirk escapes, but it’s still a fairly effective ending to a great episode.  The direction by Marc Daniels is also incredibly tightly done, composing itself of several tight shots of the characters.  This could be because the episode only has a few sets and Daniels is trying to trick the audience into not realizing it, but the style adds this great sense of tension and madness to enhance the performances.  Plus it’s enhanced further by the score by Sol Kaplan, composed specifically to work in this episode and not become stock Star Trek music like other scores during this second season.

 

Overall, “The Doomsday Machine” somehow manages to be an incredibly effective cosmic horror story filmed on an almost shoestring budget.  The conclusion itself has a couple of less than stellar moments, but shifting focus away from Kirk, Spock, and McCoy is integral at making the episode work as well as it does.  It’s a tale of coming Armageddon and how itt’s impossible to stop it once certain boxes are opened.  9/10.

Death to the Daleks by: Terrance Dicks

 

Death to the Daleks was written by Terrence Dicks, based on the story of the same name by Terry Nation.  It was the 43^rd story to be novelized by Target Books.

 

Sometimes there’s really only so much one can do in novelizing a story without making things improve.  Death to the Daleks was the final Dalek story to star Jon Pertwee as the Doctor with Elizabeth Sladen as Sarah Jane Smith, but it was also the seventh to be written by original Dalek creator Terry Nation and it is this novelization that really attempts to draw some originality out of a script that is a melting pot of different Dalek story ideas.  Terrance Dicks’ novelization doesn’t actually change any significant events from the television serial, but the few pieces of originality in the serial are adapted incredibly well.  The opening sequence where the power on the TARDIS is drained and any of the ideas dealing with the city of the Exxilons is treated as living are particularly well written.  The former manages to capture the desperation of the Doctor being stranded, though this is an aspect from the original script for The Daleks reused again here.  Dicks gets to the heart of the character drama instead of just running around the cave sets.  The living city while on television attempted to be designed well, and Michael E. Briant’s direction makes it look interesting, there isn’t nearly as much emphasis on it being alive.  Here Dicks really makes it feel otherworldly for a setting, especially as the story progresses and the city itself awakens.  The destruction at the end of the story also feels more real in prose, perhaps because Dicks is actually really good at building suspense.

 

Death to the Daleks, despite the evocative cover and having the best classic Dalek design, actually suffers from not being great as a Dalek story.  While Dicks’ adaptation tries to emphasize the scheming of the Daleks and the ideas of the space plague, as a force they just aren’t portrayed as effective.  The tenuous alliance between them and the human characters is something that just barely worked on television and it doesn’t work here, probably because the supporting characters aren’t actually all that well characterized, the book more concerned with making the Doctor and Sarah Jane work as a pair.

 

Overall, Death to the Daleks is far from a bad novelization, Dicks’ prose is as always quite breezy and light making it at the very least a fun read.  This is an occasion where a perfectly functional Terry Nation Dalek story becomes a perfectly functional Terrance Dicks novelization and in isolation that’s something that someone genuinely might love, but this is also a novelization I experienced immediately after three other novelizations of Terry Nation Dalek stories so that interference makes you really notice the issues with Nation’s plots.  Dicks doesn’t make any large scale changes to the plot which isn’t really helping matters either.  6/10.

The Stormlight Archive: Rhythm of War by: Brandon Sanderson

 

The Stormlight Archive kept itself fairly divided between three plotlines throughout the first three installments, but Brandon Sanderson always intended the series to be split into two arcs of five installments each.  Rhythm of War is the penultimate installment in the first arc of the series and as of writing this review, the final installment of the first arc has yet to be released and is currently being written.  This means this review lacks whatever context the final installment of the first arc will leave readers, which is integral as while Rhythm of War is a novel that has a beginning, middle, and an ending it is also a book that keeps the main thrust of this first sequence at the point of tension.  Oathbringer ended with Odium and his terms for a duel facing Dalinar and his forces, while Rhythm of War ends with the selection of champions.  In a lesser author’s hands this could verily easily make this book feel like a complete waste of time, especially when Dalinar’s perspective is actually the least seen perspective in Rhythm of War, the book being more concerned with exploring Shadesmar, the origin of the spren, and an invasion of Urithiru by the Singers.  These are the main thrusts of the novel, however, as these are much larger in scope than previous installments, despite those previous installments being just as long as Rhythm of War, so Sanderson continues what makes The Stormlight Archive great and focuses in on a handful of characters for different points of view.  The different characters add different flavor, keeping Dalinar off-page is also a fascinating choice as his decision for champion and Odium setting a date for their contest is something hanging over the head of the entire novel.

 

In Dalinar’s place, Navani Kholin gets quite a large portion of the action, being reintroduced as inventing several fabrials and devices including a Final Fantasy style airship powered by stormlight and several of the modern technologies.  Sanderson draws on history for Navani’s plot in the book, acting as queen and driving her people through the occupation by the singers, led by Raboniel.  Navani’s self-sufficiency and her own scheming is what guides her, beginning her plotline in the prologue, recounting the night of Gavilar Kholin’s murder from Navani’s perspective.  There is this genuine sense that the relationship between Navani and Gavilar to this point had been incredibly strained, Navani clearly not being okay with the many secrets her husband had been keeping and her own interests in technology.  Her reaction to his dead body is one of Sanderson’s more emotional moments, the entirety of Rhythm of War having a theme of reacting to the deaths of others and dealing with loss and failure.  It is especially poignant knowing the novel ends with uncertainty, that nobody knows who, if anyone, will or can be saved.  Navani and her scientific inquiry makes several advances, but much of her struggle is convincing a spren, the Sibling, to form a bond with her under the extreme circumstances.  Sanderson lays out the ideas of scientific inquiry also leading to vast destruction, Navani discovering the opposite of the several aspects of light.  There are several discussions of Navani investigating Investature under Raboniel, until the moment which she discovers the opposite of stormlight and its ability to destroy a spren completely.  This creates the possibility of the death of Radiants and spren alike, making killing an immortal being possible.  This is something that several parties would want, but Navani’s reaction to this only leads to one of her darker moments at the climax of the novel where she overcomes Raboniel.

 

The singers and the spren both get a considerable amount of time devoted to them, Venli on the singer’s side of things being our main point of view outside of Navani.  Venli was not the original candidate for the flashback sequence of Rhythm of War, Sanderson intending Eshonai to be the primary flashback sequence, but as often can happen when writing plans had to be adjusted and the flashbacks were split between the sisters.  Eshonai’s development was something the reader could already understand through reading The Way of Kings and Words of Radiance, while Rhythm of War is concerned largely with Venli becoming disillusioned with the Singers and tether war.  Her chapters in the present day are the most fascinating as Sanderson is allowed to write a truly alien cultural point of view, yet still managing to create humanity in the Singers so that the reader can truly understand the post-colonization issues that have arisen.  While defeating Odium has become the primary goal, finding a peace with the Singers and undoing the slavery and oppression of the natives of Roshar is something that hadn’t actually been done by the humans on Roshar.

 

Making amends for the horrors of the past are also the main thrust of Adolin’s plotline in Shadesmar throughout the book.  While the Shadesmar sequence is used to flesh out the spren, it is also a very personal story for Adolin as he has a place to find himself, not becoming a Radiant yet still having his great worth.  Much of his plot is being put on trial for the sins of the Knights Radiant of the past who killed their spren by breaking their bonds.  His Shardblade, Maya, a deadeye is a character in her own right, although she is a character who does not speak or show signs of sentient functioning yet is clearly and vibrantly alive.  Adolin has to unravel the mystery of what exactly happened when the bonds were broken as the deadeye spren clearly have lives and the potential for sentience, perhaps Maya even has created a bond with Adolin.  His trickery is also fascinating as he attempts to use the spren’s laws against them in Shadesmar, the trial being presided over by an actual Herald in Kalak.  The entire sequence also has larger Cosmere connections, Rhythm of War clearly setting its eyes on a larger scope than just Roshar, if only for brief moments.

 

The main thesis of Rhythm of War lies, however, in the character arcs for Shallan and Kaladin, both characters who have to learn to accept the fact that they both will fail at times, though in very different ways.  Shallan spends the novel in Shadesmar with Adolin and company, having come to a balance with Veil and Radiant, until it becomes clear that Mraize and the Ghostbloods have slipped a traitor among their ranks.  There is this added pressure that builds throughout the first third of Rhythm of War for Shallan and when it comes to a head she goes within herself, frightened by the emergence of a potential fourth persona.  Veil and Radiant taking over for Shallan is fascinating as here more so than in Oathbringer does Sanderson make these two stand alone as characters in their own right (there were sensitivity readers and advisors on the representation of dissociative identity disorder for this book, more than previous books), both equipped with their strengths and weaknesses though not able to guide themselves and others through Shadesmar without Shallan there.  Shallan retreating into herself is also never permanent, Adolin being the most obvious person to draw her out occasionally and provide support, but it must be Shallan who alters her plans and allows things to fail.  She is tasked with capturing Kalak’s soul to become a full Ghostblood, something she is hesitant to do for many reasons, but her ability to fail and change is integral to her character arc.  It fully mirrors Kaladin who also is suffering from his own mental health issues, having his command taken from him due to his declining mental health.  It is directly tied to his inability to speak the Fourth Ideal, something revealed at the climax of the novel for Kaladin to be “I accept that there will be those I cannot protect!”  This is the thesis statement of Rhythm of War, Kaladin only being able to reach the conclusion after spending time once again as a surgeon, losing the respect of his father for being a soldier again, and finally confronting Tien’s death from way back in The Way of Kings.  Kaladin combining his knowledge of a soldier with his knowledge of surgery also adds to the theme of advancement, helping to deal with some of the fallen soldiers’ post traumatic stress disorder and suicidal ideation.  It’s also clear that Kaladin is not the champion for Dalinar against Odium, will not forgive Moash for his betrayal and reconciles with his own family, something done beautifully.

 

Overall, Rhythm of War is a novel that is more splintered and unresolved than any previous installment in The Stormlight Archive, but it is one with some of the most important events of the sequence as everything is putt in place for what will be the final book published at the end of 2024.  It is the most thematically deep installment thus far and the strongest overall as Sanderson excels at furthering the characters, keeping one of the previous main characters off-page for much of the novel without you knowing it.  There are also several heartbreaking but incredibly satisfying permanent character deaths that resonate with other characters’ arcs, and some of Wit’s best knowledge to lead our characters to where they need to be (The Dog and the Dragon is a fascinating look at Sanderson’s view of art and outlook on life).  10/10.

The Daleks' Master Plan Part II: The Mutation of Time by: John Peel

 

The Daleks’ Master Plan Part II: The Mutation of Time was written by John Peel, based on The Daleks’ Master Plan “The Feast of Steven” to “The Destruction of Time” by Dennis Spooner and Terry Nation.  It was the 148^th story to be novelized by Target Books.

 

John Peel excels when he is adapting the work of Terry Nation, especially when it is a dramatic script from nation as is evident from The Daleks’ Master Plan Part I: Mission to the Unknown, but there is a great danger in shifting to the second half of the story as Dennis Spooner becomes responsible for writing duties of the episodes, though working from Terry Nation’s original outline.  Spooner’s style of storytelling varies greatly from Nation’s, generally skewing towards comedy, though The Daleks’ Master Plan generally stays serious with a great helping of wit to get it through to a very dark ending.  When it comes to getting to that very dark ending, Peel is great.  The Daleks’ Master Plan Part II: The Mutation of Time takes its title from one of Nation’s working titles for the serial and Peel really makes the shifting time aspect of the serial brought out to the forefront.  While the televised episodes would keep Mavic Chen and the Dalek alliance throughout the serial, this back half cuts back to them and their developments far more than the televised story ever did.  This is perhaps because they provide the dramatic weight of the serial as the episodes immediately penned by Spooner on television go to the comedic side.  The Meddling Monk is brought in as a tertiary antagonist and in The Daleks’ Master Plan Part II: The Mutation of Time the comedy of Peter Butterworth’s performance is greatly muted.

 

Muting the comedy is something Peel seems keen to do, except that makes the book become quite uneven for the first two-thirds of the events.  “The Feast of Steven” is perhaps the reason for this, as there wasn’t much Peel could actually do to mute the comedy in the Christmas episode, outside of cutting out the Doctor’s request to the viewer at the very end.  It takes up two chapters and is played mainly for comedy, while also having some of the largest cuts of the adaptation.  The comedy is preserved from Nation’s original script, the only episode he penned included in this half of the novelization, but the scenes are shortened without Peel attempting to bring it in line with the way he adapts Spooner’s later scripts.  It sets the reader up for a more tonally accurate recreation of the scripts, but as soon as the Daleks are back in the narrative the jokes are gone and the fear is back.  This is especially apparent when the TARDIS materializes on a cricket pitch without the signature humor of Dennis Spooner, just this sense of stiff upper lipped Britishness before quickly moving on.  The sequence in Ancient Egypt with the Monk is especially less comedic, the potential of the TARDIS being sealed in the pyramid is played as the most dangerous thing that could happen, while the action is heightened with danger.  Dalek hierarchy is explored as an additive, but removing the comedy means that the chasing sequences of the story feel more like a slog.

 

Peel does do admirably in opening the novelization with an original scene, a character moment for Sara Kingdom exploring what life has been like now that her world has been turned upside down.  Narratively it assists in bringing the reader back into the story and providing any necessary catchup on the off chance somebody picked up the second half of the story without first having the first half.  In terms of character, it allows the Doctor a book original moment which is incredibly sweet, reflecting on the deaths that have already occurred at the hands of the Daleks and allowing Sara some closure and guilt around the death of her brother.  This comes full circle in the end, while she is dying she is guided into death by the image of Bret which feels slightly out of place, but I can see what Peel was going for in this sequence.

 

Overall, The Daleks’ Master Plan Part II: The Mutation of Time is actually a step down mainly due to the weakness of the author and his general reverence for Terry Nation meaning he underestimates what made the Dennis Spooner penned scripts interesting and kept the story going.  When it’s great, it’s utterly brilliant, in parts even better than the first half, but in between those moments the pace slows down and the comedy is transformed into completely straight prose which holds the book back.  8/10.

The Daleks' Master Plan Part I: Mission to the Unknown by: John Peel

 

The Daleks’ Master Plan Part I: Mission to the Unknown was written by John Peel, based on Mission to the Unknown by Terry Nation and The Daleks’ Master Plan “The Nightmare Begins” to “Coronas of the Sun by Terry Nation and Dennis Spooner.  It was the 147^th story to be novelized by Target Books.

 

This was always going to be a difficult story for anyone to novelize.  The Daleks’ Master Plan is twelve episodes long, plus a single episode prologue in Mission to the Unknown, and only two of those episodes existed in the BBC archives when Target books published their two part novelization.  The second episode, “Day of Armageddon”, would only be discovered in 2004, a decade after the novelization was published.  There is the added snag that the rights to Terry Nation’s Dalek stories were in limbo for novelization purposes, only cleared up when John Peel befriended Nation and secured the rights to adapt the three remaining Nation penned Dalek stories (though Eric Saward’s 1980s Dalek stories would take much longer to be novelized, long after the Target books line ended).  Peel was given 180 pages for each part of the novelization, choosing to adapt Mission to the Unknown along with the first six episodes of The Daleks’ Master Plan under the title The Daleks’ Master Plan Part I: Mission to the Unknown.

 

Peel’s writing style here is fascinating as of the several original Doctor Who novels he has written, this adaptation has his best prose.  The novel is incredibly evocative at creating the sense of danger from the first page, choosing to adapt the closing moments of The Myth Makers to put the Doctor and Steven in danger with new companion Katarina.  There is then a two chapter diversion to adapt Mission to the Unknown so the reader can truly understand the dangers of the Daleks, playing up the body horror of the Varga plants and moving right into the story itself.  The characterization of the Doctor also feels far more active in the novelization, though the actions are not necessarily different from on television.  Peel clearly had access to the original camera scripts (and perhaps some of Nation’s original scripts before being edited by Donald Tosh), and has attempted to capture Douglas Camfield’s action oriented directorial style.  Katarina also is given some sequences from her perspective which allows more characterization than perhaps the scripts, especially since Peel wouldn’t have seen the currently only existing episode to feature the character.  Her death at the two-thirds mark of the novel feels far more dangerous and real, though this is perhaps because Peel is heightening the violence in his usual way which is a double-edged sword.  It works here, and Peel makes it explicit that Katarina’s death was a noble sacrifice and not someone from the past misunderstanding how a spaceship would work.

 

The Doctor and Steven’s reaction to Katarina’s sacrifice make the back third of the novel feel like they are both in fugue states, only shocked out of it when they are betrayed and Sara Kingdom is brought into the story.  The death of Brett Vyon perhaps stays too close to the way it appeared on television.  This is probably due to the fact that “Counter Plot” was one of the two episodes available in the archive that Peel could have drawn from.  Brett has his own characterization deepened while Sara Kingdom is sadly given a small journey to trust the Doctor, though she only appears in this back third of the novel.  Mavic Chen is also simplified as a villain in places along with the rest of the delegates as the Daleks are given the lion’s share of the villainy, Peel excelling at writing them.

 

Overall, The Daleks’ Master Plan Part I: Mission to the Unknown is all setup, but it is incredibly well done setup for a Doctor Who story that was far too massive to be compromised into a single novel.  Peel’s style really works when it comes to adapting the work of someone else as he is less likely to fall into his own issues, even when having a young female character to characterize as he pleases.  9/10.

Fear Her by: Matthew Graham and directed by: Euros Lyn

 

“Fear Her” stars David Tennant as the Doctor and Billie Piper as Rose Tyler with Nina Sosanya as Trish Webber, Abisola Agbaje as Chloe Webber, and Abdul Salis as Kel.  It was written by: Matthew Graham and directed by: Euros Lyn with Simon Winstone as Script Editor, Phil Collinson as Producer, and Russell T. Davies and Julie Gardner as Executive Producers.  It was originally broadcast on Saturday 24 June 2006 on BBC One.

 

Earlier in this series of reviews, mention was made of Russell T. Davies commissioning an extra script for the second series of the revived Doctor Who as an emergency if one fell through.  The original plan for the penultimate story of the second series was an episode set in the 1920s to be penned by Stephen Fry, however, due to a premise that would require a larger budget, that episode would be postponed to the third series before being cancelled altogether.  The emergency script, pitched as a budget saver, came from Matthew Graham in a proposal of an alien planet having its beauty drained, Davies asking for rewrites to accommodate an Earth setting and a less abstract narrative.  Graham proposed setting the episode in the near future, set on a street preparing for the 2012 London Olympics with the title “Chloe Webber Destroys the Earth” followed in a second draft “You’re A Bad Girl, Chloe Webber”.  Davies disliked both of these titles and the episode entered production under the title “Fear Her”, going into production earlier than expected with the other episode set on a London street “The Idiot’s Lantern” as “The Impossible Planet” and “The Satan Pit” had to be delayed to a later production block.  Much of the episode was filmed on location due to the domestic setting which gives “Fear Her” a distinct look.  Despite being a budget saving episode, it mostly avoids having a cheap look, though the limitations of the budget hurt the episode in other ways as this isn’t an episode with a central Doctor Who style monster, the conflict attempting to be a story about the lingering trauma of familial abuse.

 

The premise of “Fear Her” is one that should work, the Doctor and Rose arrive on a London street where recently children have been disappearing and tensions are high as neighbors begin to mistrust each other and the council officials doing construction work in preparation for the passing of the Olympic Torch.  Trish Webber and her daughter Chloe, played by Nina Sosanya and Abisola Agbaje respectively, are revealed to be at the center of the disappearances, Trish being afraid of her young daughter and Chloe having gained powers to transport people and objects into her drawings.  The Doctor and Rose investigate to uncover this, the alien possessing Chloe is an Isolus which only can live and thrive in an environment of love and community, and the world uniting around the Olympics is enough energy to send it home.  While not a premise that would make one of the best episodes of Doctor Who in existence, it’s a perfectly fine idea for an episode that could at least be well remembered yet “Fear Her” is this second series’ ultimate low point, partially due to weaknesses in the scripts, partially due to weaknesses in the performances, and partially due to production issues in general making it just an unenjoyable watch.  The script itself feels in places as if it hasn’t undergone the rigorous script editing process the rest of the series would generally undergo.  It’s an episode that breaks basic rules of cause and effect, often creating effects without a cause.  The largest instance of this is that the Doctor and Rose pinpoint Chloe Webber as the cause of the disappearances because Trish is afraid of her daughter, except they don’t actually know that Chloe Webber exists.  The dialogue with the residents of the street and Trish don’t ever actually mention Chloe existing or having isolated herself.  There’s almost an attempt from director Euros Lyn to imply the Doctor and Rose may see her in her bedroom window, but it’s not shot clearly enough for this to work.  The script doesn’t actually give any indication as to where on the source of the disappearing children could be coming from, the Doctor and Rose just wander around the street for the first third of the episode, detect energy and are attacked by a scribble monster.

 

The scribble monster and the apparition of Chloe’s abusive father, because yes Chloe’s father was physically abusive, are the two instances of drawings coming to life by the power of the Isolus and they honestly feel like they are there for padding to get the episode up to time.  This is especially problematic in the case of the later, as Chloe’s motivation should be based on being a victim of physical parental abuse, and in some ways it is.  She is mentioned to be having nightmares and drawing an image of her father in the closet so it can come alive, shout at her, and lock the doors of the house once the primary thrust of the episode is over.  Instead of exploring any themes based around trauma related to physical abuse, the trauma is just window dressing for the episode to create the threat.  The Isolus picked Chloe because she is alone which feels contradictory for its motivation being a need to belong, surely it would attach itself to someone who had a happy family life that could give it what it needs.  “Fear Her” also just suffers from some of the weakest performances in the revived series thus far.  Abisola Agbaje as Chloe Webber is the weakest, however, this helps indicate that the poor performances are perhaps down to director Euros Lyn not knowing how to work with child actors and just general issues with the script.  Agbaje seems to have been directed to either whisper her lines or just give no emotion whatsoever, even when she is free of the Isolus and supposed to be happy.  The odd emotional performances continue with the turns from Nina Sosanya and Abdul Salis, the former seemingly unable to communicate the fear instead coming across as awkward and the later becoming a meme about the council.  Sosanya and Salis have both given far more nuanced performances in Good Omens and The Wheel of Time respectively, but here they just fall flat.  Even David Tennant as the Doctor, while attempting nuance, is working with material that just doesn’t feel like the Doctor, for whatever reason Graham has decided the Doctor doesn’t understand how to talk to people and Rose has to give him these gentle nudges for social cues.  This isn’t really what the Tenth Doctor has been established as and just feels like Graham thinks this is what he is like.

 

Overall, “Fear Her” is a low point and mishandles really anything that it attempts to do.  Only Billie Piper comes out of it unscathed, and even then she’s struggling with a script that is just too poor for words.  It’s an episode that doesn’t actually have anything to say, putting the entire world in danger and disappearing thousands of people without any actual emotional impact.  The performances are incredibly stilted and the direction, while good for being a budget saver, decides to do the bare minimum required.  Even Murray Gold’s score seems scarcely used to any sort of effect leading to the weakest episode of this second series.  1/10.

The Apple by: Max Ehrlich and Gene L. Coon from a story by: Max Ehrlich and directed by: Joseph Pevney

 

“The Apple” is written by Max Ehrlich and Gene L. Coon, from a story by: Max Ehrlich, and is directed by Joseph Pevney.  It was filmed under production code 38, was the 5^th episode of Star Trek Season 2, the 34^th episode of Star Trek, and was broadcast on October 13, 1967.

 

After the first season, exploring a setting that is a lost paradise is not a new concept to Star Trek, “The Return of the Archons” and “This Side of Paradise” both deal with false utopias, but neither go so far as to directly parallel the Garden of Eden in terms of concept.  “This Side of Paradise” comes closest, with its lush agrarian planet and exploration of human stagnation under a collective control of the symbiotic flowers.  It is then interesting that the second season of Star Trek would give an episode like “The Apple” so early on, almost taking the ideas of “This Side of Paradise” and spinning them in a very different way.  The setup and general plot elements are perhaps the episode’s weakest aspect, following a fairly standard Enterprise crew arrives on a new planet and investigate where things go wrong with very obvious deductive reasoning as the episode peels back the nature of this planet.  The first half of the episode or so is fairly dedicated to just the crew of the Enterprise, a few extra guest stars taking the roles of redshirts for the episode and this planet begins to pick off characters one by one.  Ehrlich’s script, his only contribution to the series, is very much concerned with the notion of the Genesis story of the Fall of Man being integral to the episode from the title, to the setting, and to the eventual defeat of this planet’s God figure.  Yes, the god figure here is another computer that has found intelligence and taken over a planet, another tried and true Star Trek premise, but the rest of the episode plays this as standard fare for Kirk and company.

 

The people on this planet are presented as primitive, but very physically attractive, Joseph Pevney’s direction giving them this otherworldly quality, occasionally directing them out of focus to emphasize the features one would expect in a paradise like this.  They are educated with gaps in their knowledge specifically designed so they can stay in the control of their deity, Vaal, and it is that deity which has created the stagnation in the society, this stagnation physical, mental, and emotional.  The chief Akuta, played by Keith Andes, has had antennae inserted into his skull to interface with Vaal, eventually revealed to be a computer, and the society has no concept of purpose in life.  The servitude is enough, there is no need for love, connection, or even raising of a family.  This lends “The Apple” to a reading that is generally scathing of Christianity and its hold over the American public at the time of writing.  This episode aired in late 1967 and Ehrlich writes with this sense of deconstructing the idea of a Garden of Eden, paradise not really being paradise.  Despite the lush setting, the crew find several dangers sent by Vaal, poisonous plants that shoot spines, rocks of various composition that act as land mines, and eventually weather patterns designed to rain down lightning from above.  There isn’t really a forbidden fruit in “The Apple”, just our characters attempting to get through to this society as they are temporarily stranded on the planet due to Vaal’s influence on the atmosphere.  The final scene implies that Kirk is in the role of Satan, bringing awareness of morality to a society that lacks any sense of passion, positing humanity before the Christian notion of original sin barely qualifies as alive, subtly condemning the concept with one final joke.

 

The real shame about these deep philosophical questions posed by “The Apple” is that it is also an episode that is interrupted at several points with the action.  There is already an almost slow burn quality as so much of the episode is devoted to the main cast, but on the Enterprise itself is Scotty, played wonderfully by James Doohan, attempting to break the ship from the pull of the planet.  While it is a clear attempt to add tension throughout the episode, the first half of the episode especially makes it feel as if it were added to pad the runtime and keep the characters on the planet.  This is odd as the sense of exploration and interaction with a new culture and planet is a main point of Star Trek, the crew being stalked by Akuta but delaying to make contact in case the natives were not interested in interacting with the crew.  This slow build should have been used to build up tension or even worldbuild more than the episode was doing, but sadly it’s just Enterprise cutaways that feel put in for the sake of cutting away to a B plot and not having a generally well thought out B plot.

 

Overall, “The Apple” is an episode that poses some interesting philosophical actions and has clearly taken some time to deconstruct the spiritual aspects of society in a way that Star Trek hadn’t necessarily done yet, by taking one of the most pervasive Christian stories and examining its implications you have the makings of a great episode.  Sadly, the episode is brought down by a great director unable to avoid pacing problems and padding with Scotty on the Enterprise and while the building danger is great it almost takes too long to get to the interesting philosophical questions is should have been more interested in examining.  6/10.