When Dave Owen criticised season 26s Battlefield on its extended video release, Chris Gregory was prompted to write in. Is late eighties Who to be judged by different standards? he asked. Reviews of earlier stories seem to excuse or ignore lax production values, dodgy acting, effects and plotting, etc..
However, its not just that this is a late eighties story that accounts for its low esteem among us dedicated viewers. The Happiness Patrol, for example, has acquired something of a mystique as this gloriously bold, subversive statement for anti-Thatcher homosexuals, despite the fact that its frankly embarrassing to watch, with hammy acting, cardboard sets and a crap pet monster. In DWM 226, Andrew Cartmel reckoned that, in ten years time, people will look back and recognise Battlefield as a great story, and its certainly about time that the story got a reappraisal.
Perhaps the main problem is that nothing happens until episode two. After the 1985 hiatus, every new season proclaimed its return to BBC1 loudly and triumphantly. Season 23 opened with that majestic pan across the Time Lord spaceship. The following year began with the Doctor regenerating, the year after that, a Dalek ship looms over the unsuspecting Earth. Battlefield opens Doctor Whos final year on television with two old people doddering around a garden centre. Then, some soldiers are cross, and a rather uninspiring sword makes spooky noises. Battlefields viewing figures were so notoriously bad that the BBC held a second press launch, but its hardly surprising no one was much taken with the story when its first dramatic moment has armoured knights falling out of space into a quarry. By that point, weve already stomached half an episode of Keff McCullochs tinkly lift music, encouraging the sense of vacuous banality emanating from the screen. Youd almost think it was a conscious attempt to get people to turn over.
We might remember (though its hardly an excuse) that the story had originally been submitted as a three-parter, and once weve got past the dire cliff-hanger of episode one, it does pick itself up quite quickly. Theres a broad range of excellent and likeable characters, and if the various knights do speak that stilted BBC pseudo-Shakesperean, it does serve to differentiate them from the everyday characters. And Mulder has been speaking the same grandiose bollocks in The X Files for the last couple of years, anyway.
For all Brigadier Lethbridge Stewarts appearance continues JNTs obsession with past Who, Battlefield encourages hope for the future. UNIT is modern, tough and a convincing force to be reckoned with, while tough, resourceful Bambera is excellent. More so than Ace, she is the worthy replacement for the old Brigadier. It would be wonderful to see her as a regular foil for McGanns Doctor: her keen, experienced cynicism (a black woman who must have fought her way through the ranks of even the open-minded UNIT), cutting sparks with the joie de vie of the young Time Lord. New Adventures fans might think of Roz and Chris. Battlefield had a lot of influence on the New Adventures, too - more than any other single story. UNIT is a multi-cultural organisation, competent enough not to have to rely on the Doctors assistance, Ace wanders off and makes friends of her own, can be difficult with the Doctors friends, and while theres no end of angst and monsters and cross-dimensional wars to be fought, theres still time for love and poetry and the Doctor cooking supper.
One of the most important aspects of Battlefields plot is that it dovetails with Ben Aaronovitchs other TV story, the much worshipped Remembrance of the Daleks. That had then newly sneaky seventh Doctor finishing what a past self had begun, lots of racism and a few comments on sexism. Battlefield has him tidy up the loose ends left by a future self, has lots to say about sexism (especially in the extended version), and a fair bit on racism too.
But, while so much of the Times Champion stuff has Sylvester being a secretive, manipulative git to his friends, here we see his genuine concern for them. Hes distraught at the supposed death of Lethbridge Stewart, while Morgaine uses his ties to Ace and Shou Yuing against him. And, while the Doctor of Remembrance blew up planets, here is the man of peace struggling to run rings around the bloody soldiers. Sylvester is a captivating here: his hypnotising, his popping of crisp bags, strolling nonchalantly through the macho sword fights... its with wit and charisma that he wins, the clown making all the tough guys look silly.
In fact, that is what the Destroyer represents. If a monster in a story is the incarnation of all that is seen as villainous within that story, then here is the horror of battle made flesh. The Doctor is the one to show disgust and revulsion at killing, though Bambera does show remorse at the death of a young knight from Morgaines army. In the end, the Doctor wins, and the soldiers are left to roll the grass in the garden while the women go out to play.
Theres been a criticism of the lock up his mother ending. Surely, the sorceress Morgaine could escape whenever she wanted. But that is to completely miss the point. She has already accepted her defeat. It is she who presses the abort button, who surrenders. By her own code of honour, reinforced throughout the story, we know she has lost, and will not do anything so ungraceful as start the fray again. To where, after all, is she going to escape?
Really, we ought to be rather proud of this.
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