Serial Y, in 4 parts
Written by: Brian Hayles
Produced by: Innes Lloyd
Directed by: Bill Sellars
"We suddenly had a crisis on this one...the content was a sort of pseudo-smart Noel Coward comedy which was wrong for the audience, but we had to salvage something – there was no option. Everybody was screaming for something, from the designers down. I literally had to sit down in the garden of the bungalow I’d just bought in Cookham and dash out an episode a day. Had I had more time I could have done a better job." - Gerry Davis, story editor, quoted in The Handbook: The First Doctor by Howe, Stammers, and Walker (Virgin: 1994).
With the exception of Marco Polo, The Celestial Toymaker is perhaps Hartnell's most dearly missed "lost" episode. There's something bizarre and compelling about the publicity photos, and in fact the whole concept. Michael Gough looks so impressive as the Toymaker, dressed in his elegant Mandarin robes, and his gravelly voice carries a menacing weight. Gough was one of the kings of British horror at the time he filmed this episode – he had already appeared in Hammer's Dracula and Phantom of the Opera – and since starring in Doctor Who he has staked an even more impressive claim to cult stardom by playing Alfred in the Batman movies. Here is a guest star with some weight behind him...
Oddly enough, both Gough and William Hartnell play relatively small parts in the episode. Center stage is occupied by Steven and Dodo, who are forced to play a series of seemingly innocent but actually quite lethal games with the Toymaker's minions. Even though they’re not my favorite companions, they do a pretty good job, and I find it both fascinating and alarming that Dodo refuses to take the Toymaker's menace that seriously and seems to treat her experience as a big, fun game. If I were Steven, I would be seriously tempted to throttle some sense into her – but at least she’s consistent!
The serial as a whole has a demented carnival feel to it, as the Doctor's companions are pitted against clowns, living playing cards, and a mischievous fat schoolboy. It's clearly an inspiration for some of the Doctor's later, more surreal adventures, including The Mind Robber and The Happiness Patrol, but The Celestial Toymaker is the best of the lot because it's the freshest and the most original.
The Celestial Toymaker exists in its entirety on audio, and the BBC recently released in on CD. Unfortunately, since surreal imagery is so important to the episode's success, it loses something in the audio format. Despite some good narration by Peter Purves, it's sometimes hard to imagine exactly what the zany Celestial Toyroom looks like. Thankfully, the solid acting and the imaginative script are still impressive even in the absence of visuals.
The most compelling aspect of the episode is the contrast between the seeming innocence of the Toymaker's realm and the hidden lethality of its friendly trappings. The Toyroom contains some delightfully devious traps such as the freezing throne, the eternal dancing floor, and a gigantic electrified board game. Seeing as how The Celestial Toymaker was made in the '60s, I can’t help wondering if the script was inspired by mind-altering substances...
OVERALL RATING: A-
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