By Shannon Lush
**Note: I wrote this in the late evening/early morning hours while a torrential downpour of rain spattered off the roof and beat against the windows of my humble abode. It provided the perfect atmosphere and mood by which to write. It is one of the joys of being a long-serving Whovian: the mere mention of titles of stories and actor's names and big events that surrounded their creation and transmission cause good memories to come pouring forth faster than the rain. I hope you enjoy this blog entry as much as I did crafting it!**
**Note: I wrote this in the late evening/early morning hours while a torrential downpour of rain spattered off the roof and beat against the windows of my humble abode. It provided the perfect atmosphere and mood by which to write. It is one of the joys of being a long-serving Whovian: the mere mention of titles of stories and actor's names and big events that surrounded their creation and transmission cause good memories to come pouring forth faster than the rain. I hope you enjoy this blog entry as much as I did crafting it!**
'Doctor Who' fandom, in addition to boasting the
longest running television science fiction series in history, also can beat its
collective chest over its expanded universe of spin-off material. From original
novels to comic books and strips, audio and even stage plays, the quirky, low
budget series that captured imaginations from day one has, for almost 50 years
now, presented diverse stories for fans to enjoy. Today we will be reviewing
'Scream Of The Shalka', a 2003 flash-animated adventure first transmitted on
BBCi, or BBC Interactive, the corporation's official website.
In order to properly understand the story and its
shifted status from 'officially approved by the BBC' to 'relegated to
non-canonical nonsense', several facts must be presented. To begin with, in
2002/03, when this adventure was green-lighted for creation, the BBC appeared
to have no intention of resurrecting 'Doctor Who' in televised form. As
highbrow and stuffy as the BBC were (and in many respects, still are), their
relationship to what was once considered a 'flagship series' has always been
contentious; many a BBC Controller or programmer has lamented the fact that,
for every period piece, every hard-hitting drama featuring stiff-upper-lipped
British actors giving their all in the name of art, every prestigious mini
series featuring Lawrence Olivier, their biggest money-spinning export to
multiple countries happened to be a low-budget kid's series they made on the
cheap featuring rock quarries in Surrey! Simply put, 'Doctor Who' was not the
property the BBC wished to be associated with in the eyes of worldwide
audiences. They weren't proud of it, no matter how much money it put in their
corporate hands. Like an unwanted child, 'Doctor Who' spent its existence on
BBC screens searching for love and acceptance from its parents, and instead by
1989 found itself cancelled indefinitely. Sure, the BBC were loath to utter the
word 'cancelled', and swapped it out for the less offensive 'hiatus', in order
to continue to profit from the gravy train while offering nothing new. But no
'Doctor Who' on the screen was no 'Doctor Who' on the screen, no matter which
way it was labelled.
As much as the BBC sought to make 'Doctor Who' for
as little money as they could possibly get away with, as much as they forced
Whovians to wade through the empty promises of a brighter future from
Controllers and various other talking heads who periodically, when corned by
the press or persistent fans, would reiterate the party line of 'we intend to
insure a bright future for 'Doctor Who' and at some point it will return', as
much as they slapped Whovians with their right hands while diving into their
pockets to grab profits from the latest New Adventures book or VHS tape release
with their left, by the early 2000's it did appear, finally, to fans and the
BBC alike, that 'Doctor Who' would never return to the screen. After all, when
the only televised adventures the BBC relented to making during the 1990's
consisted of clumsy or comedic (and comedic ally clumsy!) tripe such as the
1993 charity special 'Dimensions In Time', in which the Whoniverse was allowed
back on BBC1 for a grand total of 15 minutes, but only if it was forcibly
merged with that of 'EastEnders', or the 7th Doctor, Ace, and K-9 'searching
out space' in the children's series of the same name, and answering
science-based questions along the way, even the most dedicated and hard-core
Whovian began to doubt. Anthony Ainley's
over-the-top command of 'you must die, Doctor, die!’ in the final moments of
Peter Davison's regeneration began to become an epitaph that echoed through the
minds of fandom. Not even the august personage of Steven Spielberg, who stamped
his approval on a plan to put in motion the creation of what would become the
1996 Paul McGann TV film, could save our beloved Doctor this time.
By 1999, with the amusing 'Curse Of Fatal Death'
charity special featuring comic genius Rowan Atkinson as the Doctor, it was
apparent that the BBC were only interested in lending the character out for
comedy appearances, rather like a cheap clown for children's birthdays.
Then, someone at the BBC reached into their pockets
like the miser Scrooge, produced a well-worn shilling, and thought 'we can
re-make him, gentlemen, we have the technology'. As they had done for what
seemed like time immemorial when it came to producing new 'Doctor Who', the BBC
looked to the cheapest method. No more would they sell the feature film rights
to shady operators like Coast-To-Coast Productions, who spent close on a decade
scrambling to raise funds before the deadline to start filming lapsed, only to
fail miserably and be forced to allow the rights to revert back to the BBC. No
more would they seek to co-produce a new series and then argue over the nickels
and dimes of budget and profits, as they did with Amblin and FOX over the
McGann film, souring both on the prospect of follow-up films. No, 'Doctor Who'
would, for once, stay in-house and under the corporate umbrella. The result was
the first-ever fully-licensed, animated 'Doctor Who' adventure. While an
admirable feat in itself, the resultant story is, simply put, awful.
'Scream Of The Shalka' was written by Paul Cornell,
who was rapidly on his way at the time to becoming a fan-favourite in the mould
of Terrance Dicks, as from his pen had come the likes of 'Love And War', a
celebrated novel from the 'New Adventures' line of Virgin Publishing. In
addition to introducing the character of Bernice Summerfield, who herself would
go on to enjoy spin-off success both inside the Whoniverse and, when Virgin
Publishing lost the license to continue to make original 'Doctor Who' stories,
essentially took over from the Doctor as the main protagonist, Cornell had
authored several popular works of fiction and non-fiction about the series. He
was given the mandate of not only producing a new story for a new medium, in
this case flash-animation, he also was tasked with creating a completely new
incarnation of the Doctor. More on the character he devised to come.
On paper, the notion of a writer so well versed in
'Doctor Who' itself, who had the respect of Whovians as a true torch-bearer for
the new generation of 'Doctor Who' mythos, seemed like a home-run. Or, so it
seemed.
With Cornell on board, it fell to James Goss, one
of the executive producers of the project, to make the decision on mounting a
brand-new, fully-licensed, continuation of 'Doctor Who' with a new lead actor,
rather than simply hire Paul McGann to reprise his role as the fully-licensed
8th Doctor. Goss had been made senior content producer of the BBC's website,
and under his aegis, had expanded the online presence of 'Doctor Who' on the
site. Visitors to the website in this time could be forgiven for thinking that
the BBC actually cared about 'Doctor Who', given Goss's hard work on what
became the BBC's 'Cult TV' section. At this point in the sordid tale of
'Shalka', the facts become murky. This reviewer cannot find any rationale
behind the decision to present a 'new' Doctor, from Goss or anyone else
involved. Common sense would dictate, if the 8th Doctor existed as the
'officially licensed BBC Doctor' by this point in time, which the character
was, 'why' the need to deviate?
Consider these salient facts: like his seven predecessors,
the 8th Doctor's image and likeness were trademarked by the BBC; in effect, the
BBC 'owned' the character. Since his debut in the FOX/Amblin TV film of 1996,
the character featured in the comic strips published in 'Doctor Who Magazine',
as well as what would become, today, the longest-serving number of 'Doctor Who'
adventures featuring one specific
incarnation, the Big Finish audio play range. The character also became the
main protagonist of the BBC Book's 'Doctor Who' novel range, which took over
the officially-licensed printed adventures from Virgin (after the Doctor was
depicted as possibly having sex with his successor as protagonist in the Virgin
books, Bernice...but that's an entirely different rant for another blog!).
That's not counting the numerous merchandise created around and featuring the
8th Doctor. In short, the real-world reason the Doctor was regenerated in the
FOX film had less to do with storylines and much more to do with the
much-needed regeneration of the spin-off work itself. A new, younger, handsome
and charismatic Doctor was exactly what the books, comics, and audios needed, a
creative shot in the arm to inject new life into a character that had been, by
that point with the 7th Doctor, mined for every dramatic purpose under the sun.
By 2003, the McGann version of the Doctor had been accepted as the 'current'
Doctor by Whovians and casual fan alike. One would naturally assume that 'if'
the BBC were giving the corporate nod to continuing the officially-licensed
adventures of 'Doctor Who', this incarnation, which they owned lock, stock, and
barrel, and which was the 'face of the franchise' by this point, would be the
one to go with.
'Bugger off with the bloke', the BBC said, and Paul
Cornell got to work coming up with a completely new Doctor, voiced by a
completely different actor: Richard E Grant. While this reviewer to this day
shakes his head at the oversight of intentionally handicapping the project with
now being forced to spend valuable screen time introducing a new Doctor,
perhaps there were forces at work that conspired to force this change. Perhaps
Paul McGann refused the project, assuming of course he was ever at any point
asked, though this assumption overlooks the actor's repeated association with
the Whoniverse through Big Finish, as well as convention appearances...not to
mention the zeal by which he states he not only would have continued as the
Doctor had the FOX film led to a new series, but his wish to appear in the
current series as well at some point, perhaps in time to celebrate the 50th
anniversary. Perhaps, given the combination of flash animation over audio and
the new medium of the internet as the broadcaster, it was felt a new Doctor
would act as the mascot of BBCi, eschewing the previous incarnations depicted
in other media forms. Whatever the true reason, whoever ultimately made the
decision, whatever the short and long-term plan was, the result is that 'Scream
Of The Shalka' features a Doctor that, for one brief period, was the
officially-approved-by-the-BBC '9th Doctor'. Yes, you read that right: before
Christopher Eccleston, before the new series, before Russell T Davies, the
officially licensed Doctor, regenerated FROM Paul McGann's 8th Doctor...was the
one depicted in 'Scream Of The Shalka'. Did we mention the BBC just can't stop
messing with Whovian's hearts? We covered that, right?
Richard E Grant, aside from being one of those pretentious
actors with initials denoting their middle names, seemed on the surface to be a
decent, if not spectacular, choice to give life to this '9th Doctor'. Aside
from starring with McGann himself in the cult film 'Withnail And I', he had
appeared alongside Bruce Willis in the film 'Hudson Hawk'. Aside from a brief
turn as the Doctor already in 'The Curse Of Fatal Death', portraying a future
incarnation of the Doctor for laughs, Grant had done nothing of substance and
nothing of note that would be worthy of rewarding him with what many previous
actors chosen to play the Doctor called 'the role of a lifetime'. He was not
given the role based on his 'Fatal Death' experience, any more than Mr Bean was
ever seriously considered to be the next Doctor. The truth of the matter is
that Grant was cheap, Grant was available, and he had limited experience in
voice acting. And his subsequent performance would reflect his unsuitability to
the role.
To make matters worse, the chosen animation company
for this project, a Manchester-based outfit called Cosgrove-Hall, decided to
visually pattern the 9th Doctor after the actor voicing him, resulting not only
in a Doctor with bags under his eyes and a pronounced lip, but with long,
flowing hair slicked tight to his scalp. In this 'new Who', the Doctor
seemingly applies hair product in liberal doses. Cosgrove-Hall had produced, or
co-produced, such classic British animated exports as 'Danger Mouse' and 'Count
Duckula', so there was hope they would do their vision of the Whoniverse
justice. Then again, Paul Cornell wrote 'Love And War', and he's not getting
off the hook, either. Life isn't always fair, now is it?
This Doctor is depicted as taller, wears Victorian-inspired
clothing complete with crushed green velvet smoking jacket and cape, is more
physical than his previous incarnations, shouts at what are
no-doubt-supposed-to-be Timelord overlords who appear to frequently direct
and/or misdirect his travels, is curt and impatient with his human companion,
has a sonic screwdriver, dislikes the military mindset, and is arrogant and
superior-minded. In other words, a poor man's 3rd Doctor.
There are shades of other incarnations tossed in
for good measure, as well; instead of creating a fresh, new version from the
ground up, Paul Cornel performs a strange alchemy upon the character, picking
out recognizable personality traits from the previous eight incarnations and
putting them all in a blender. The result is a 9th Doctor who has moments of
manic genius like Tom Baker, resigned disgust at the dark elements present in
the universe like the latter McCoy years, spirited belligerence like Colin
Baker, and the aforementioned parallels to the fashion sense and action-adventure
feel to the Pertwee years. Not only is this a top-heavy character for Whovians
to attempt to get used to, Grant's absolutely dot-for-dot, line-reading
approach does it no favours. Tonally flat and dull, with no hint of immersing
himself into the role whatsoever, Grant's Doctor emotes about as well as Adric.
Teamed up with an animation studio that here appears not to have been paid
enough by the BBC to properly design and animate the character much beyond
cardboard cut-out level with a range of motion befitting the worst
penny-pinching of Filmation's 'He-Man', what should be the triumphant return of
the legendary Time Lord in an epic adventure that boasts not only a new actor
in the role but a new injection of talent, time, and money, is instead bested
by episodes of 'South Park'.
On to the story itself. As lamented earlier, this
story by necessity must spend a portion of its playing time introducing this
new incarnation of the Doctor. After all, whatever else must be said of
Whovians for blindly supporting everything 'Doctor Who' in the face of decades
of BBC indifference and hostility to the character, one thing we all are united
on is we will forgive shoddy FX, budgets that couldn't stretch to purchase a
Happy Meal, and location filming to such exotic locales as windswept rock
quarries, so long as the story is good. Especially an introductory story for a
new Doctor, those we especially go easy on, realising the tentative nature of
the whole thing and the nebulous nature of the initial Doctor character as a
work-in-progress. We suffered through the worst excesses of 'Twin Dilemma',
after all. How bad can this be?
In Paul Cornell's case, he took the approach of
'it's a new Doctor. Don't ask questions'. There are vague hints this Doctor
somehow indirectly caused the death of a previous companion. Vague hints that
the Doctor is not in the business of saving people anymore; as he curses at the
Timelords, he is 'tired' and 'doesn't do this anymore'. Fair enough.
Foreshadowing future revelations of sweeping changes in the Whoniverse is fine,
especially since the BBC has green-lighted follow-up stories of this
Doctor...no, wait, they didn't. Meaning every utterance of every vague,
unspecified situation will go down as unresolved. That's not entirely Cornell's
fault; after all, he was commissioned to write this story more than likely on
the understanding it would serve as a 'pilot', a trial run for future stories
in which he, or other writers, could pick up the bread crumbs he's laid down
here and expand on them and fill in the blanks. That a series or any follow-up
adventures did not come to fruition is hardly his fault. Except Cornell was
also paid to write a novelization based on this story, after the fact. Meaning
all the vague allegations to a ghastly companion death, meaning the existence
of the Master as inhabiting the body of an android and becoming, essentially,
the Doctor's fussy TARDIS butler who at one point even checks the voicemail,
meaning the very nature and specifics of the 8th Doctor's regeneration into
this 9th, 'should' be resolved by the writer who invented all of them. This
reviewer didn't read the novelization, and likely never will, so on this point,
we have to give Cornell the benefit of the doubt until we know otherwise. But
if it comes to pass that we learn that Cornell was paid twice to tell the same
story and in neither does he expound upon the dangling potential storylines
that need to be resolved in order to satisfy the chosen few who, like this
reviewer, enduring sitting through the animated story, then may he be pushed
into the path of Sontarans marching to glory.
So, the Master. The Doctor's arch-nemesis, here
reduced to flicking a few buttons on the console and tossing out the odd wry
line. Truthfully, he is one of the better characters and brightens the entire
story, attempting in vain to rescue it from run-of-the-mill boredom, but that
is down to the voice actor, Derek Jacobi, who went on to become the Master
officially within the new series, after this trial run. Visually, it appears
the look is based more on an aged Roger Delgado than Anthony Ainley, or, as
this reviewer immediately flashed on mentally on a Delgado much older and one
with paunch, which is odd for an android unless the Doctor fashioned it that
way intentionally, one final indignity for his old enemy? Jacobi in one scene
spouts his lines with conviction and aplomb convinced this reviewer he, and not
Grant, ought to have been cast as The Doctor. He actually doesn't sound as if
he is asleep in the chair reading his lines, unlike Grant.
The final piece to this story, on the human side
anyway, is the companion. The latest model, as it were, is Alison Chaney, a
former history undergrad that gave up her education in order to be with her
boyfriend, Joe...although, the 'why' is left unexplored, as is so much else in
terms of characterization in this story. Suffice it to say, at the point the
Doctor first encounters her, she is a bar maid. Oh, this Doctor drinks, did we
cover that? Yes, Cornell should be applauded; one of the few elements he hasn't
nicked from previous Doctors and baked into this version is that this Doctor,
for some weird reason, fancies a pint. Because nothing says 'near-immortal Time
Lord' like downing one in the pub.
Alison is rather bland. Granted, the truncated
nature of the story doesn't allow for much in the way of a spotlight, but what
little there is, isn't especially appealing. She prattles on about how she
feels her boyfriend, Joe, who is a doctor himself but this fact is at no point
utilized by the Doctor despite the circumstances of what is, after all, a
freakin' alien invasion, is boring her and keeping her from things. A vast
majority of her whining is during moments where both she and the Doctor, a man
she's just met, are kidnapped and held captive by the aliens whose appearance
and existence Alison seems to shrug off. Cornell pens an unconvincing reason
for this, to the effect she has 'seen lots of bad things already', but this seems
forced and placed there solely to short-circuit the problem of pairing a modern
human up with a Doctor who routinely encounters giant alien monsters without
the human losing their minds in terror and fear. The Doctor may have wished to
retain her friendship and invite her to travel with him; odds are most of the
audience watching this wouldn't. The actress, Sophie Okonodo, who like Grant
and Jacobi, has transitioned to appearing in the current TV series, gives a
unexceptional performance...but it's better than Grant's, that's saying
something.
The baddies here are an alien race called the
Shalka. Slightly larger than human sized, they are biomorphic creatures who
burrow into lava and the subsurface of a planet. There's a few moments of
technobabble in which the Doctor goes on and on about them, but essentially
they are a race dedicated to conquest, members of the Shalka Federation, which,
they claim, boast 'billions of member worlds'...even if the Doctor admits he's
'never heard of them'. Turns out, they select worlds that are in risk
'ecologically', worlds in which pollution is beginning to really affect the
standard of living. They infiltrate the worlds, turning the populations into
their own weapon of destruction by fitting them with amplified voice
modulators, so that they can 'scream' using sonic bursts to break the world's
already weakened ozone layers, allowing the worlds to be destroyed on the
surface, while the Shalka can exist underground and in the magma veins.
Their invasion force, numbering two thousand, are
under the command of Prime, the only member who has fitted itself to not only
speak proper BBC English, but who would, for plot reasons, be unaffected by the
'screw 'em all up' device that the Doctor is contractually obligated to
construct to stop them in their tracks. To summarize this mess of a plot much
more would be pointless. Suffice it to say: the Shalka secretly sneak into a
town, lull the human population into obedience simply by sonically blasting
those who dare to raise their voices or make any other noises, such as scrape a
chair. So, the Shalka are the intergalactic equivalent of a librarian, shushing
people. Or the people who don't like it when you talk during a movie. When the
time is right, the populations of entire towns in which they took control are
placed under mental command, gather outside like the Whos in Whoville around
the Christmas tree, and unleash the fury of voices that haven't been used above
a whisper in a couple of weeks. Genius.
Ok, so... let's see, an invasion plan predicated on
subjugating human beings and preventing them from talking until the Shalka want
'em to talk. Anyone who opens their mouths to protest in anything above a
whisper is harshly punished, in one instance sonically blasted to a fine dust.
An invasion plan that requires cutting an entire town, village, or city off
from the rest of the world...or at least, hoping the people in other towns,
villages, or cities don't ever visit, call, or engage citizens of the invaded
locations. 'Cause they gotta spare their voices, doncha know. An entire
invasion that could be undermined by a 13 year old girl with a reasonably
affordable text plan. Even by 2002 standards, this invasion plan is so
ridiculously easy to foil using basic non-vocal communication technology, no
wonder the Doctor is angry at the Timelords for sending him in to take care of
it! Anyone trained in Braille and/or sign language could get a message to the
world about the Shalka!
Lest we spend too much time on the absolute
hilarity of the Shalka's plan, let's focus a little on the creature's visual
appearance itself. It's a cross between the Xenomorphs from 'Aliens', spiky and
brittle and segmented, and the Zygons, for some reason. Taken on their own, the
Shalka are visually interesting, despite their drone-like nature; like all too
many invasion/advance/shock forces in 'Doctor Who', they are not given their
own unique personalities, and instead rely on a 'mouthpiece', in this case, the
human-speaking Prime. Prime was voiced by Diana Quick, and in yet another nod
to 'the Whoniverse is a small world after all', the actress appeared in the
same film that gave Tom Baker a featured role, 'Nicolas And Alexandria'. Quick
made the most of what poor material she was given, and managed to make Prime a
quick-witted adversary for the Doctor; more than once, Prime belittles the
Doctor verbally in a scolding and amusing manner.
No proper invasion story is complete without
getting out the Army to shoot at stuff, and 'Shalka' is no exception. A small
squad of U.N.I.T soldiers are brought in to help the Doctor deal with all this,
after the Doctor has complained bitterly about them of course. In yet a further
tired and stretched-out swipe from the Pertwee years, the man in charge of this
group of soldiers, Major Kennet, is sarcastic, doesn't suffer the Doctor's
superiority complex for long before prodding him to action, and is willing to
take the lead rather than order others to their potential deaths. No word on
whether Cornell was ever cuffed round the ears by Nick Courtney.
The whole story concludes with the Doctor
overcoming the Shalka threat by literally singing Opera. No, really. He
overrides the mind control of the Shalka with the help of some gadgets and
Alison, who is able to amplify her 'voice' through the mind of those under mind
control because for some completely bizarre reason, she is human and that
somehow matters. The Shalka intentionally implanted the device she used to do
so IN her themselves, only to have the Doctor turn the table and break the
conditioning of thousands of people simply by telling them not to scream.
Uhm... what? There's more to it, but it's padding and technobabble meant to
distract from the fact that the story is awful, and is easily recognised as
such. The Doctor and Major Kennet reconcile their respective opinions and admit
they make a good team when pressed into service together, Alison climbs aboard
the TARDIS as the new companion after the Master talks her into it. Allow this
reviewer to repeat that. Alison agrees to travel through time and space after
an android replica of the Doctor's worst enemy asks her to. This is included to
further illustrate that the Doctor is still such an unlikable wanker even after
all this time. Thus ends the first and only animated appearance of what
Whovians refer to as 'The Shalka Doctor'. Mercifully.
While this production was at half its present age
and half its present reputation as a turkey, plans were afoot elsewhere within
the BBC to bring 'Doctor Who' back as a fully-realized, live-action series once
more. 'Shalka' had its day in the sun as 'official'; upon the announcement of
the new series, Russell T Davies officially crushed it's dream of canonicity by
declaring that with Eccleston officially the BBC-approved '9th Doctor', this
story was swept under the rug like the ugly stepchild it was. Of special note
is the venom in which RTD bemoaned Grant's performance, stating, as this
reviewer did, that he felt that Grant simply 'gave a lazy performance', and
casting aspersions upon the project as a whole. This rings hollow, however, as
whatever else can and has been said regarding 'Scream Of The Shalka', including
the fact it is essentially a by-the-book reworking of your basic Pertwee alien
invasion story featuring U.N.I.T, right down to the eco-friendly messages it
clumsily presents, many elements of this production would bleed into the TV
series under RTD's producer ship, too many to be mere coincidence.
Borrowed elements that would later crop up in
multiple Eccleston/Tennant stories include, but are not limited to: a debut
story of a new Doctor that does not feature a depicted regeneration; the Doctor
deriding humans, here referring to them as 'sheep' in the same snide and
condescending manner Eccleston's officially-licensed 9th Doctor used when he
called them 'apes'; the Doctor uses a TARDIS-shaped cell phone, similar to that
used by both the 9th/10th Doctor, Rose, and other companions; the Doctor's
recent past is immersed in vague, troubling issues which he is having a
difficult time coming to terms with; the Doctor feels remorse, regret, and guilt
over somehow causing the death of others, in this case alleged to have been his
previous female companion; The Master is played by Derek Jacobi; The Doctor is
shallow, arrogant, and has a decidedly darker outlook on life in general,
traits he shares with the 'official' 9th Doctor; Alison is not only involved in
a racially diverse relationship akin to Rose, though here in reverse as she is
black and Joe is white, she also abandons her boyfriend out of no more
compelling or understandable reason than boredom, to hitch her wagon to the
Doctor as Rose does; David Tennant makes an un-credited cameo appearance
voicing The Caretaker, apparently as the actor was at the time working close to
the production of 'Shalka' on an unrelated project and, upon discovering what was
being worked on next door, begged the production staff to allow him to take
part. All of these elements and several of the actors would go on to form major
parts of RTD's tenure in 'Doctor Who', and therefore, in this reviewer's
opinion, RTD's caustic comments can perhaps be attributed more to adhering to
the BBC's mindset at the time of quickly striking 'Shalka' from the official
records in order to clear the path for the new series than to any perceived
malice on RTD's part; RTD is simply 'toeing the line' in this case.
For those Whovians who feel obliged to seek out
this now-unofficial adventure, it is no longer available on the official BBC
website, where it had found a home for a great many years after it had been
stripped of official status. The novelization by Paul Cornell was published by
BBC Books and still exists for purchase, presumably, online and in certain SF
shops; those readers of this blog who somehow locate a copy and read it are
encouraged to contact this reviewer at the email address provided on this page
or through The Whostorian's Twitter account @TheWhostorian, in order to clarify
whether Paul Cornell expanded upon the story in any way and accounted for the
backstory and/or plot threads he introduced in the story. And if he didn't, back
to the head of the approaching Sontaran army with him. No second chances. We
are that kind of fans.
With such shoddy and limited animation, quite
possibly the most offensive arrangement of the classic Ron Grainer theme tune,
which incorporates disco and dance music. A story that is riddled with plot
holes, and the final sense of vindication every Whovian inevitably feels that
the new series replaced this in the hearts, minds, and canon of fans and BBC
alike once they conclude watching this travesty. 'Scream Of The Shalka' is, if
nothing else, proof that Richard E Grant must be stopped. Each and every
appearance he makes within the Whoniverse results in mind-numbing farce. Let us
all hold hands and scream greater than the Shalka as we witness his return to
the Whoniverse this fall alongside Matt Smith, quite possibly the 'only'
incarnation of the Doctor that the 'Shalka Doctor' is superior to. And I
include Peter Cushing in that list.
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