There may be worse problems with this Who outing than the awful blue-screen work most remembered...

Mention Underworld to any Doctor Who expert, and they’ll most likely respond with a barely disguised sneer of contempt. For years, the story has been derided for ridiculous looking CSO caves to the point where it looks less like a Doctor Who story, more an episode of kids’ virtual reality TV show, Knightmare.

OK, so Underworld doesn’t have a kid with a medieval bucket stomping around saying: “Where am I?” (Altogether now – “You’re in a room!”) Nor does it have a Wall Demon called Granite-Arse or whatever it was called. Nor do dead characters have a picture of a dismembered skull floating above their heads as a doomy bell sounds to the strains of two googly eyes floating about. But a good portion of Underworld does take place against CSO backdrops. Characters mooch about the gloomy caves with a tell-tale blue outline around them as if they’re crackling with static electricity.

Ironically though, the CSO isn’t the worst thing about Underworld. The recent DVD sheds a bit more light on this troubled production. Back in 1977, funds weren’t quite so high as they had been on previous stories, and so it was decided that a good way of saving money was to build model caves and film these via CSO. Sadly though, the CSO doesn’t totally convince, and according to the DVD featurette, this wasn’t a particularly easy production to work on. The grainy black and white footage shows Big Tom alternating between a charming hero to kids and an angry thesp who’s effing and blinding with alarming regularity at a quaking production team.

"The model filming balances the so-so CSO. It’s some of the best model work seen in the series – the shots of the nebula, the R1C and the cliffhanger planet are excellently realised"

But given all this tension and tricky recording methods, you almost have to admire the production team for taking such a bold risk. And even if the CSO isn’t entirely successful, it’s still nowhere near as bad as you might think. In fact, some shots such as the battle on the bridge look quite reasonable if you squint a bit. And there’s not as much CSO as I originally thought anyway – most of the action takes place on the Minyan spaceship, which cleverly doubles for the domain of the raspy-voiced computer, The Oracle.

No, the biggest problem for me is that Underworld is largely dull and uninspired. The story gets off to a fairly strong start in part one, but as soon as the R1C crashes into the new planet, it all falls apart quicker than a snowman in a heatwave.

But let’s quickly sidetrack and explore the virtues of part one. For one thing, the model filming balances the so-so CSO. It’s some of the best model work seen in the series – the shots of the nebula, the R1C and the cliffhanger planet are excellently realised.

Underworld also boasts some interesting concepts and ideas. For one thing, we get to hear the origins of the Time Lords’ policy of non-intervention, which shows that Bob Baker and Dave Martin evidently did their homework that day. For another, we get to meet a race who can also regenerate themselves at the point of death. The four-strong Minyan team are on the quest to find the P7E race banks, a voyage so long that it makes the entire Lord Of The Rings trilogy seem like a five-minute breeze. Interestingly though, Tala, the one to undergo regeneration, just transforms into a younger version of herself rather than into a different woman – although from my poor vision, the new version looks like Denise Van Outen in a shrunken Michelin Man suit.

So that’s the premise and it’s all good stuff, on the whole. Two of the guest actors are very good. James Maxwell gives the right sort of world-weary performance as a man who’s resigned to a lifetime of trying to complete the quest. By contrast, Alan Lake throws himself into the part of Herrick with gusto, and it’s a very enjoyable turn. Whether he’s cackling with glee at the thought of battle or gurning away like mad while under the pressure of the headphones of doom (this time, given the year, it’s probably Mull Of Kintyre by Wings that’s making him shout and scream like a loony), Lake easily steals the show.

"There’s Lake, emoting for Britain, while Newth and Van-Outen-a-like react as if he’s just produced a copy of the Endless Flight album by Leo Sayer rather than the mythical race banks"

Which is a good thing, since the remainder of the cast are forgettable. OK, so the Minyans are meant to be wearily at the end of their tether, but Jonathan Newth and Van Outen-a-like Imogen Bickford Smith are flatter than pancakes. Take the scene in which Herrick returns to the Minyan group with what he thinks are the race banks. There’s Lake, emoting for Britain, while Newth and Van-Outen-a-like react as if he’s just produced a copy of the Endless Flight album by Leo Sayer rather than the mythical race banks. Seriously, look at this sequence the next time you decide to check out Underworld – there’s no emotion whatsoever from these two.

If it’s dull tedium that you want though, then you’re in the right place. For Underworld becomes a dreary snooze-athon after the R1C has crashed into the planet. All that happens is that characters walk around CSO caves, some of whom are dressed in potato sacks, others in futuristic hoodie tops (as Tom Baker gleefully points out on the commentary). Unfortunately, this is nothing new – a slave race of what’s known as Trogs are bullied by a load of curmudgeonly old guards, a scenario we’ve seen a thousand times before. And the pecking order doesn’t stop there, since the guards are pushed around by Seers, who turn out to be what look like golden jelly beans with glowing red eyes. The moment in which the Seers unmask themselves really doesn’t have the dramatic impact that Baker and Martin were aiming for. It’s more like something out of The Tomorrow People.

"To resort to yet another talking jukebox with delusions of grandeur just smacks of a lack of good ideas"

The Seers themselves are bossed around by what’s known as The Oracle. Nope, this isn’t Johnny Vegas’ Benidorm character stuck behind a giant metal grille (although it does have the same raspy, nicotine-affected voice), but it’s – guess what!!

A talking computer.

Wow, there’s an original concept. Which had in no way been done to death in The War Machines, The Green Death or The Face Of Evil, to name but three. And there’s the rub. To resort to yet another talking jukebox with delusions of grandeur just smacks of a lack of good ideas. The Oracle poses little threat, it sounds stupid, and it just sums up the sheer dearth of good ideas present in Underworld. Even The Doctor bellows: “You’re nothing but a box!!” at one point.

Both the direction and the acting take a dive in the last three parts of Underworld. The Trogs, Guards and Seers are all unmemorable, although that’s hardly surprising, considering the awful dialogue that they’re given. The Trogs spend their time explaining the plot in clunky info-dump speeches that are heavier than a bag full of anvils. Harry Potter fans may spot Ernie the Bus Driver, Jimmy Gardner playing Idas’ angry father Idmon though. Elsewhere, both the Guards and Seers resort to talking in clichéd threats, spouting quasi-macho dialogue that might have passed muster in an episode of CHiPS, but not in Doctor Who.

With that in mind, the script from Baker and Martin is rather more at fault than the actors. “The Quest Is The Quest!” is this story’s running gag, and gets irritating very quickly.

"Louise Jameson again struggles gamely with the poor script after the similarly lacklustre Invisible Enemy, but this is Leela’s weakest story by miles"

And again, they prove that they can’t write for Leela at all. We’re back to the thick comedy savage who’s there for thicko laughter value rather than the intelligent, resourceful warrior. “You’re all laughing at me!” she wails in part one, after being subjected to the giant magic torch of peace. Louise Jameson again struggles gamely with the poor script after the similarly lacklustre Invisible Enemy, but this is Leela’s weakest story by miles. Pity, given the original concept of the warrior learning the ways of the world – by now, that concept’s become a little frayed around the edges.

Norman Stewart’s direction is also fairly pedestrian, and at times, it’s difficult to work out what the hell’s going on. The cliffhanger to part three is a good case in point. Now the idea of The Doctor and Leela falling into the jaws of the rock crusher is a pretty dramatic one. Unfortunately, on screen, it’s both boring and incoherent. Ern the bus driver pushes a cart containing The Doctor and Leela inside (a stupid idea in the first place). Ern trips and stumbles, the useless old duffer. Ern shouts out “Crusher!”, which for some odd reason sounds more like “Usher!” And yet there’s no sign of the King of R&B. Anyway, the final shot is an ambiguous cut of a cart tipping into the crusher – but there’s no all-important shot of The Doctor and Leela falling in, or even screaming out in fear. Quite possibly one of the most useless cliffhangers of all time.

Despite all these problems, there is still the odd gold nugget or two to be found in Underworld. Some of the set pieces are quite well presented. The dreaded sacrifice ceremony is undeniably hokey old tat, but it’s still quite enjoyable. Then there is the unusual sequence in which The Doctor, Leela and Idas float downwards to rescue Idas’ father, which I rather like.

The common denominator of these two sequences is again, Dudley Simpson. The celebrated composer provides two distinctive musical motifs for these sequences – a doomy synthesiser-based howl for the sacrifice and the rather chirpy lift-style music for the floating, which almost threatens to break into the theme tune from Blankety Blank. Underworld proves that Dudley Simpson can work magic with even the most threadbare of circumstances. Give him 1990s TV flop Eldorado to score, and he could have possibly made it resemble something half-decent.

I said possibly.

"Even with such a dull script as Underworld, Tom Baker is never less than inspired...He makes these sequences seem totally believable and dramatic - which, considering that all you’ve got to work with is a wall of ropey disco lights and a 30-a-day voice, is no mean feat"

And of course that other great talent with the ability to perform wizardry on the mundane is Tom Baker. Even with such a dull script as Underworld, Baker is never less than inspired. He’s got the right combination of humour and drama down to a fine art, whether he’s making pithy quips about the identity of the Flying Dutchman or exchanging angry words with The Oracle. He makes these sequences seem totally believable and dramatic – which, considering that all you’ve got to work with is a wall of ropey disco lights and a 30-a-day voice is no mean feat.

So Underworld isn’t quite the whopping great folly that it’s been made out to be in the past. Financial and technical circumstances didn’t make the production an easy ride, so applause to the team for actually making the show on time. It’s just a shame that the script wasn’t that bit more imaginative or believable. Visual effects are an easy target, but when you’ve got characters bellowing clichéd bilge at each other, the finger of blame can only be pointed in the direction of the sub-par writing.

John Bensalhia limbered up for this mammoth task with a full four-series review of Blake's 7, and writes professionally and recreationally all over the web. Check out his portfolio of work at Wordprofectors.

Check out John's previous Doctor Who review, The Sun Makers

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