(A Review Of All Four Episodes)
For fans, the fact that so much of 1960s Doctor Who is missing is a sad fact. Those of us who are fans of the classic series each have stories that we very much want to see: Marco Polo, The Evil Of The Daleks, Fury From The Deep and so forth. Yet for me, sitting here in the late summer of 2015, there is one story more than any other missing story that I really want to see. It's a story that we have so little left of: The Massacre aka The Massacre Of Saint Bartholomew's Eve.
Doctor Who began in 1963 as a semi-educational science fiction series that was meant to bounce back and forth between the more science fiction heavy stories and the more educational historical stories. By the time The Massacre aired in February 1966, that formula had about run its course. The success of the various Dalek stories and stories like The Web Planet in the ratings had all but guaranteed that the historical stories, with their lower ratings and audience appreciation figures, would soon be a thing of the past. Behind the scenes changes with producers and script editors coming and going were guaranteeing that as well, especially with this story where the writer all but took his name off of it due to changes made to get into production.
Yet looking (or rather listening to the story), those cracks are hard to see (hear). Script wise, despite what appears to be heavy re-writing done by script editor Donald Tosh, the script is arguably the strongest story of the Hartnell era. It doesn't really fit into the established historical story formula that John Lucarotti himself had established in stories like The Aztecs less than two years earlier in that it isn't about trying to get back into the TARDIS. What starts as a simple arrival and a brief stopover turns into something else entirely as Peter Purves' Steven Taylor finds himself lost and alone in 1572 Paris in the midst of political and religious turmoil.
What makes the story even more remarkable is the Doctor isn't really the lead character in the story. That role is handed over to Steven Taylor, a character who started out as an effectively thick and comic character when first introduced. In this story and the one before it, both character and performer came into their own. Purves is utterly believable as a man lost in time, an "innocent abroad" who wanders into a dangerous situation that he knows little about and that could potentially be fatal at any moment. The story, and Purves' performance, seem to remind us that traveling with the Doctor is a dangerous affair and the Doctor might not always be there to save you.
All round, the performances of the story seem pretty solid. Purves might be the lead but hes surrounded by a strong cast. There's William Hartnell playing a duel role as the Doctor in the book-ending episodes and the Abbot of Amboise. While Hartnell's Abbot isn't as different a performance as Patrick Troughton's in Enemy Of The World, there's still a sinister quality to it as it lacks all the charm and mannerisms of the First Doctor. There's none of the giggles, "hmm" or "my boy" to be heard here. We might not be able to see it but with the audio alone there's a notable difference in the performance that makes it all the more painful that we can't see it.
Then there's the supporting cast which is almost a Who's Who of Britain's top character talent of the time. There's Andre Morrel, perhaps the definitive screen version of Nigel Kneale's Professor Bernard Quatermass, playing Marshal Tavannes who brings a sense of authority and respect to the role and never let's it be an outright villain but the sense of someone who is respectable but somehow still sinister. There's Leonard Sachs as Admiral de Coligny who is the opposite of Tavannes: a respectable man seeking to do the right thing and who will be at the heart of the tragedy that will ultimately unfold. There's also strong supporting performances from Eric Thompson, Joan Young and Annette Robertson with the latter becoming the emotional focal point on which the lengthy and moving final scene of the story revolves around.
Looking back on it, The Massacre is admittedly a hard story to judge. It's a historical story which means that a lot of the story's appeal, at least on a visual level, would be its sets and costumes. Time in this regard has not been kind to the story as all four episodes of the story have been lost to us. Nor do we have telesnaps or a wealth of behind the scenes images as is the case with stories like Marco Polo. Perhaps that let's us give it qualities it never had but let's not forget that costume drama has always been a forte of the BBC. Paddy Russell who directed this story has also been good at getting strong performances from her actors and the stellar cast of this story seems likely to have delivered just that. Maybe one day we'll know for certain.
Whatever the case, in many respects this was the last great historical story of the series. There would be a few others before The Highlanders saw out the sub-genre that would only be resurrected with the proliferation of spin-off media in the Wilderness Years, that much is true. Yet none would take themselves as seriously or bring forth the kind of acting talent that The Massacre would. The Massacre and its four episodes marked the end of an era for the series and the historical stories of its early years. Something that makes it even more of a shame that we can't watch it today and see what, I suspect, would have been a glorious costume drama.
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