Dr Who and the Sands of Time

For those non-UK readers who are saying to themselves, “Dr Who?” and
suspecting that this might be a version of the “who’s on first?” routine, I’m
referring to a British science fiction TV series. A distinctly cult
series, if ever there was one. The first episodes were back in the early 1960s
and it was revived,very successfully, a few years ago after a hiatus. The
programme has a huge following, of all ages, and, of course, like all cult
things, an industry surrounding it. “The Doctor” is a strange alien
time-traveller, immensely old, but always looking like whatever actor is
starring in any given series; there have been eleven Doctors over the years,
every one of them the ingenious solver of bizarre problems, always able to, in
the end, avert imminent catastrophe. As one actor moves on, he mutates,
regenerates, into the new one. The Doctor travels about - through space and time

• in the Tardis, which looks for all the world like an old UK police
  callbox (right), but open the door and inside it’s huge, filled with all kinds
  of weird and wonderful  time-travelling propulsion and calculating contraptions.

These days, the programmes go out not on a regular schedule but as periodic,
and eagerly awaited, specials. Last month, for Easter, we were treated to Dr
Who and the Sands of Time(I know I’m a bit late describing this but I have
been otherwise occupied with kitchen physics and proof-reading). It was filmed
in February in Dubai - as the producer commented, “We always looked at going
abroad. A beach in Wales, especially in February, would have just looked like,
well, a beach in Wales.” The typically strange story required the presence of a
red double-decker London bus in the middle of the desert, so the BBC shipped one
out to Dubai. Unfortunately, on arrival, a cargo container was dropped on it so
the script had to be rewritten to incorporate its revised appearance. Then
shooting was disrupted for some time by a major sandstorm - and in the story,
blowing sand penetrates the engine of the bus, causing agonising delay and
tension as the voracious aliens (not the poor guy in the picture, who was also
stranded but was, sadly, consumed) approach.

The show is highly creative and extremely well-written and the latest
incarnation of The Doctor, David Tennant, has been superb (at the same time
playing a highly-acclaimed Hamlet for the Royal Shakespeare Company). In every
series, Dr Who has always been accompanied (platonically, of course, since he’s
an alien and this is prime-time TV) by a lissome female companion, sometimes
just for one episode, sometimes for many. In the desert, this was Michelle Ryan, star of the remake of The Bionic Woman and English TV soap opera, fetchingly attired in a black cat-suit. But

everyone knows that David Tennant’s time is up, he is due to be regenerated by
the end of the year. Everyone knows who his replacement is to be (this is
news in the UK) and everyone, including, presumably, his replacement,
is apprehensive - Tennant’s time-travelling shoes (generally suede) are big ones
to fill.

Dr Who and the Sands of Time, was good TV from every point of view,
but, naturally, particularly mine given the place and the ubiquitous material. I
have read that there is also a classic desert episode (I think I missed it, but
then again, my memory…), in which the Tardis arrives in the Gobi Desert, just
in time to meet Marco Polo on his way to visit the fabled palace of Kublai
Khan. Forced to travel together, they witness “singing sands,” the bizarre
variety of sounds emitted periodically and spontaneously, by dunes. This is
entirely accurate - in his description of his journey, Marco Polo tells of the
spirits of the desert and the strange and terrifying musical and drumming sounds
that they make. But undoubtedly more of that in a later thrilling Through the Sandglassepisode.

[pictures from the Radio Times] SIGNATURE

Originally published at: https://throughthesandglass.typepad.com/through_the_sandglass/2009/05/dr-who-and-the-sands-of-time.html