Where am I? Who am I? And who are you?
As Season Twenty-Four of Doctor Who kicks off, we might as well be watching a different show entirely. Only nine months separate the end of the season-long story “The Trial of a Time Lord” in late 1986 and Pip and Jane Baker’s “Time and the Rani” (Story Production Code 7D) in September of 1987, but from the vastly revised, computer generated opening sequence, replete with new, synth-heavy arrangement of the classic Grainer theme and flashy fresh logo for the show, through to the brand new title actor, Sylvester McCoy, revealed in the fastest regeneration sequence on record, producer John Nathan-Turner finally seems to bring about his long-desired goal for the series: change.
At its heart, of course, the basics stay the same. “Time and the Rani” functions as a “normal” story, with the Rani (Kate O’Mara) making a welcome return as the amoral Time Lord neuro-scientist devoted to her experiments above all else, in this case an attempt to control all of time and space by creating a planet-sized brain, as one does. The Doctor finds himself, as ever, in the heart of the dastardly scheme, one that he must put to rights. But everything in the story feels snappier, from the editing to the musical cues to McCoy’s frenetic pace about the stage. The Bakers’ dialogue likewise zings; they are, by this point, already notorious in the fandom for their unwieldy verbosity, but the sheer speed of the back-and-forths, particularly between McCoy and O’Mara, adds to the velocity, even as the words themselves feel slightly beside the point.
Indeed, the plot, such as it is, proves mostly superfluous to the spectacle. Not ten minutes pass before director Andrew Morgan delivers several fast-cut, elaborate effects sequences, shot in a quarry as befits Doctor Who, involving explosions and floating bubbles that trap unwary prey before detonating. The daring combination of practical and computer-generated effects works surprisingly well given the relatively crude technology—to modern eyes—being used. The overall experience feels new to the viewer, even as companion Mel (Bonnie Langford) and the familiar trappings of the TARDIS help ground this new incarnation in Doctor Who‘s long apostolic succession.
The Rani draws the TARDIS off course to the planet of Lakertya; the resulting crash causes the Doctor’s regeneration, shot quickly without the assistance of Sixth Doctor Colin Baker. The Seventh Doctor’s introduction leans heavily into the notion of the regeneration crisis, but rather than the unpleasant descent into madness suffered by the Sixth Doctor or the inexplicable sidelining of Peter Davison’s Fifth Doctor caused by his mental collapse (both stories overseen by Nathan-Turner), McCoy’s Doctor finds his uncertainty, his disorientation, leveraged as part of the Rani’s plan, a seamless and effective transition into this new take on the character. In order to trick the Doctor into helping her experiments, she dresses as Mel, down to the frizzy red hair and shoulder pads that would put a gridiron linebacker to shame. The Doctor’s post-regeneration fuzziness, amplified by the Rani’s amnesia drugs, sees him figuring out his new identity against an antagonistic foil, so that when he snaps at her, it feels appropriate. She is a villain, after all.
The script even makes time for a light-hearted costume selection sequence, with the Seventh Doctor cycling through Napoleon’s uniform and a professor’s cap-and-gown before donning the Fifth, Fourth, Third, and Second Doctors’ ensembles, finally landing on a quite fetching beige jacket, suspenders, and hat combination. All the while, the Rani tries to manipulate the Doctor via her disguise, but the overall tone of proceedings remains light, almost breezy, in pace as well as effect—despite one side character (Karen Clegg’s Sarn) already being incinerated, her pseudo-reptilian Lakertyan skeleton lovingly lingered over by Morgan’s camerawork. As yet, there’s none of the pathos that so pervades both the Fifth and Sixth Doctor’s runs. Shades of the Sixth Doctor strangling Peri, though, the Seventh Doctor does engage in a physical altercation with his (real) companion…
Convinced that Mel is the Rani, thanks to the renegade Time Lord’s subterfuge, he lunges at her—and promptly gets throw over her shoulder and placed in an armlock for his troubles. Bonnie Langford’s athleticism is put to good use throughout this story, never more so than here. There’s a level of humility, of self-reflection, at work that Nathan-Turner denies to the Sixth Doctor. It’s a delightful scene, action-oriented yet harmless, and though the Doctor earlier proclaims, “Perhaps this is my new persona. Sulky, bad tempered,” there’s already sufficient evidence, through the Bakers’ scripting and McCoy’s own affable approach to the role, that this Doctor lacks a chip on his shoulder.
The Bakers take their sweet time unspooling the actual story on offer. Having ensured the collaboration of Beyus (Donald Pickering), the leader of the local population, through a threat to unleash killer insects in the Center of Leisure where the naturally indolent Lakertyans all gather, the Rani seeks to harness the mental power of geniuses collected from throughout time and space in order to teach a giant brain how to think about temporal mechanics. It takes until the end of the third of four episodes to get that much elucidation, however, a fair bit of the screen time to that point devoted to Mel, rebel Lakertyan Ikona (Mark Greenstreet), and the Doctor running through the Rani’s laboratory and the quarry, evading traps and Tetraps, bipedal bat creatures with eyes all around their heads who serve as the Rani’s muscle and the main “monsters” of this story.
The lack of consistent (or coherent) narrative progression does not, as noted, hinder the enjoyment of the experience overall, pace being—in this case, at least—an adequate substitute for substance. Aside from the obvious interest in just who this new Doctor will be, the slow accretion of questions about why the Rani has collected so many great minds creates a sense of anticipation; the audience knows it will be for some over-the-top scheme, but when, at the conclusion of the third episode, Mel creeps into a locked room in the Rani’s laboratory and discovers a giant brain, the delayed reveal pays dividends, despite the less-than-convincing cerebrum on display.
It must be noted that the Bakers are, essentially, drawing on their debut story, “The Mark of the Rani,” for the central conceit of a villain collecting geniuses to effectuate a plan of conquest, the Master in that story attempting to subvert the Industrial Revolution on Earth to create a super-powerful planet under his control. In fairness, though, the Rani does witness that attempt and likely thinks it a good idea, minus the Master’s inevitable blunderings, so there’s a plausible bit of continuity that excuses their return to this particular plot strand. The final genius the Rani needs to break through the “barrier to understanding time” is a Time Lord’s particular mental aptitude, thus necessitating the Doctor’s presence.
As Mel helpfully points out, though, the Rani overlooks one crucial variable: “The Doctor’s character.” While plugged into the giant brain, he utterly confuses the conjoined minds therein, slinging malapropisms and non-sequiturs sufficient to discombobulate Einstein and Hypatia and the rest. We’ve seen similar scenes in “Time-Flight,” where the Doctor and companions join in a mental struggle between two Xeraphin, and “The Face of Evil,” where the Doctor lends his personality to a mega-computer that develops schizophrenia as a result. Really, one should know better than to link the Doctor with a collective consciousness. With a deadline fast approaching—the Rani intends to launch a rocket at a swiftly passing asteroid composed of “strange matter” to create a supernova-sized conflagration sufficient to turn the planet of Lakertya into a time manipulation device controlled by the brain—she hastily unplugs him.
Sadly, the Doctor’s mental machinations do not foil the Rani’s scheme, which, alas, has veered straight into a level of absurd grandiosity that would cause even the Master to blush. Instead, the Doctor, along with his Lakertyan allies, fall back on that old standby, explosives, felicitously delivered to them through incendiary ankle bracelets that the Rani uses to compel obedience. As a final act of atonement for his collaboration, Beyus stays behind to ensure the demise of the brain, dying along with the pulsating mass of neurons when the Rani triggers the punitive devices. The chaos caused by the Doctor prevents the detonation of the strange matter asteroid, saving Lakertya and allowing the Doctor to return the geniuses to their proper times and places. It’s a tidy ending, with the Rani captured by the Tetraps, who realize her perfidy and intend to return her to their home planet of Tetrapiriarbus, there to harness her intelligence to create “plasma in abundance.”
“Time and the Rani” marks the final appearance of Kate O’Mara’s delightful Time Lord on the series, and the Bakers fail to maintain the character’s aloof, cunning approach to her schemes here—she essentially turns into another version of the Master, with an unwieldy plan and an unreasonable belief in her own invincibility. The main attraction of the character as developed in “The Mark of the Rani” derives from her competence; she’s not a bumbling megalomaniac but a scientist first and foremost in her debut story, while here her desire for absolute control over all of time feels at odds with the audience’s expectation. Still, Kate O’Mara puts herself fully into the role, and especially when playing as Mel, her repartee with the Doctor, to say nothing of her asides to the camera, reminds viewers of just why this character has so much potential. Were Doctor Who to have continued, in its current iteration, beyond the end of the 1980s, one feels certain that she would have made many more bravura returns.
The Lakertyan guest cast holds up their end of the story well under the vaguely reptilian facial make-up. In particular, Donald Pickering as Beyus maintains a troubled equanimity as he helps the Rani in order to save his people; his belief that the Rani would keep her promises shows a certain naivety to be sure, even after his own daughter dies to the Rani’s traps. His eventual defiance of her rule comes a bit too late, but his demise provides a strong emotional capstone to the story. His spouse, Faroon, played by Wanda Ventham (last seen as scientist Thea Ransome in “The Image of the Fendahl“), proves a welcome counterpart to Beyus, driven by a shared desire to protect her people but more obviously aware of the cost.
Bonnie Langford’s Mel gets a chance to shine in “Time and the Rani,” with the Bakers having established the character in “Terror of the Vervoids.” Much use is made of Langford’s obvious athleticism, having been known for her dancing previously, and aside from flipping Sylvester McCoy over her shoulder, she also holds a plank pose while paralyzed for a very long time and clambers about the uneven quarry with quite some ease. The character holds the screen for significant portions of the story when Mel and the Doctor are separated, and her background as a computer expert provides a reason for the Rani to keep her around rather than feeding her to the Tetraps. There seems to be an obvious and immediate chemistry between Mel and the Seventh Doctor, and Langford and McCoy as well, which should prove felicitous. If only the scripts going forward could stop having her scream every five minutes, though…
All attention rightly falls on the Seventh Doctor in this, his debut story. Sylvester McCoy meets the moment, aided by a script that plays to his strengths. He shows great comfort with the Seventh Doctor’s new fondness for malapropism, and he also exhibits a talent for physical comedy not seen since Tom Baker’s Fourth Doctor, with more than a hint of Patrick Troughton’s Second Doctor thrown in for good measure. His is a welcoming mien, and despite his protestations at being a bit prickly during his regeneration crisis, there’s nothing but warmth and kindness about his manner. This promises to be a Doctor who holds true to that original pacifistic orientation, focused on science (or at least adept at technobabble while fiddling with unexplained dials) over action but never far from a pratfall.
The change, then, that Nathan-Turner has wrought with “Time and the Rani” and the Seventh Doctor overall, is to revert to form. It is as though the Fifth and Sixth Doctors simply did not happen. All the anger, all the existential turmoil, just disappears, at least on the evidence of this debut story. Were the Fourth Doctor to have regenerated directly into the Seventh Doctor, audiences would not blink an eye, so direct feels the legacy, the carryover of ethos and approach. Make no mistake, the interregnum, if you will, remains a necessary component of the Doctor’s journey. By the end of Tom Baker’s run, the stakes were low and the comedy high; the Doctor could not grow in that environment. In the intervening years, however, the pendulum swings too far in the other direction, to the point where Doctor Who, though weighty and impactful, is simply no longer fun.
“Time and the Rani” does not stand as a classic episode, burdened as it is by a ludicrous plot and a fair amount of filler time spent running around a quarry, but it succeeds in being enjoyable above all else. Quick dialogue, snappy editing, rousing background music, and a cast capable of keeping up combine to introduce this new Doctor—and this return to an old attitude—with some considerable style. “I’ll grow on you,” the Doctor avers to end the story, but in truth we’ve been waiting for him all along.
(Previous Story: The Ultimate Foe)
Post 154 of the Doctor Who Project