REVIEW: The Daemons

"Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me."

Ah, what memories I have of this classic Third Doctor outing! My introduction to "The Daemons" was via a Target novelisation, long before the serial was recovered and painstakingly recoloured by the Beeb. Little did I know, at the time, that author Guy Leopold was merely the nom de plume of Robert Sloman and series producer Barry Letts. Ironically, despite not being penned by a full time scriptwriter, this went on to become one of the most popular serials ever, and Jon Pertwee's personal favourite. Does it stand the test of time? On this viewing, I have to say that, broadly speaking, it does.

Technically he should have been the Reverend Dominus

The plot takes place during the Doctor's exile on Earth. An archaeologist unlocks a mysterious burial site in an English village, letting loose the devil himself - or so the locals believe. They're mostly under the spell of the local vicar, Mr. Magister who - shock! horror! - is none other than the Master himself. He's trying to channel their fear and greed, via secret seances in the church crypt, so that he can harness the ultimate power of Azal, last of the Daemons, a race of creatures that have been advancing mankind's knowledge throughout history. It's a corker of a story, and brings together some familiar elements of the Third Doctor's era: UNIT, Bessie, Roger Delgado's Master, gadgets, aliens and plenty of action.

The story opens with something of a Hammer Horror feel, as a man dies in a churchyard while a storm rages in the sky above. A few scenes later, there is a genuinely creepy moment when the local policeman looks set to brain white witch Olive Hawthorne (Damaris Hayman) with a lump of rock.

"That's quite enough of that, Miss!"

All of this feeds into a sense of mystery, compounded by the fact that Professor Horner (Robin Wentworth) is about to open the Devil's Hump, a burial mound on the outskirts of the village of Devil's End. It's worth pausing to reflect on the splendid portrayal of Horner and the manner in which the dig occurs. Horner himself is a true curmudgeon who has no time for the presciently named "BBC Three" crew. When he's not telling them to "get on with it", he's on hand to offer advice. Asked what they should do if Old Nick himself does appear, Horner grumbles "use your initiative lad, get your chatty friend over there to interview 'im." It's a wonderful juxtaposition between the sceptical Horner, who isn't interested in any frills - or warnings - concerning his work, and the BBC presenter trying to turn it into the event of the century. It's a pity Prof. Horner doesn't survive the first episode.

Withering, in a way only a Yorkshireman can

Of course, this being Doctor Who, there is something nasty hiding in the Devil's Hump. Cue the Doctor arriving in Devil's End, where he takes great offence at the way Mr. Winstanley refers to him. "I am no sort of chap, sir" booms Pertwee. Oh yes you are, Jon.

Seriously, look in the mirror, Doctor

After the Doctor gets mysteriously frozen, the cavalry arrives - in the form of Yates and Benton. Their mode of transport to Devil's End proves to be contentious.

"MY HELICOPTER?!"

By the time the Brigadier does arrive, a strange heat barrier has covered the village, making it impossible for him to get in (or the others to get out). The Brigadier suggests trying to blast his way in with rockets, but is roundly criticised by both the Doctor and Jo - although bizarrely the Doctor decides to be tell Jo off for agreeing with the very criticism he had just made. This is one of a handful of moments during the story where the Doctor is a trifle mean to Jo. I hadn't noticed this before, but Pertwee's Doctor can be quite patronising towards Jo and more than a little harsh about her academic credentials. Katy Manning apparently always thought this was just playful banter, but there are moments when it looks - at least on screen - like the Doctor is being nasty. Mind you, for her "Age of Aquarius" remark, perhaps Jo is overdue for a reprimand.

Devil's End? Satanhall? Not very subtle, Daemons.

The villains of the piece are the Master, Azal the Daemon and Bok. Most of the screen time goes to Roger Delgado, who clearly revels in the role as an occult priest, rocking the red robes and chanting his incantations with relish. He also has a smooth click-fingers-and-point gesture going on when giving his orders.

The Beeb had to reassure viewers that these scenes
did not take place on consecrated ground, apparently

Then we have Bok.

Bok.

It's never made clear exactly what he is. We know he isn't a Daemon, because Azal says he is the last of his kind. But he seems to come to life whenever Azal has been awakened, demonstrating some kind of relationship. He's first seen as a lifeless gargoyle in the church, but he's also under the control of the Master. His aversion to magic (or what he perceives to be magic) makes it unlikely that he's the Master's own creation... so what is he? Completely devoid of any morals, that's for sure. Poor Winstanley gets zapped in his own house for speaking his mind, and Bert the landlord, having been steadfastly loyal to the Master throughout, gets zapped for no reason at all. What else is there to say about Bok? He's very hard to kill.

"Chap with the wings. Five rounds rapid."

The most perplexing element to the whole story, however, is Azal himself. We're told by the Doctor that Azal is the last of the Daemons, a race of super-intelligent, super-powerful horned creatures from the planet Daemos. These Daemons have been helping mankind develop (as part of an experiment). Why this should be seen as a bad thing doesn't entirely add up, nor does the fact that when the Daemon offers the Doctor his power and knowledge the Doctor refuses as if it's some terrible curse. Surely the Doctor would be better off having that knowledge than the Master? Given that the only other alternative is for Azal to destroy the Earth as a failed experiment, it's rather cavalier of the Doctor to just point-blank refuse. He's rather lucky, then, that in the ten thousand years Azal has been on earth, he has never once encountered an instance of human self-sacrifice, made clear by the fact that when Jo tries to save the Doctor from being killed, Azal bellows "there is no data!" and promptly explodes. Huh?

Far more dangerous than SATAN, according to the Doctor.
That's pretty darn dangerous.

Azal's appearance is well conceived, and Stephen Thorne's booming voice is really excellent, bringing the character to life with aplomb. His special effect entrance leaves a little to be desired, as he's meant to be really tiny at first before growing, but he just fades into the screen lifesize. Also, his legs are quite clearly stockings with fur stuck on. Mercifully, though, we generally only see his face and torso.

Take that, you bounder!

This being the era of the Third Doctor, we have plenty of hand-to-hand (and almost-to-face) combat courtesy of the UNIT boys. There's also a motorbike-riding Doctor...

Jon Pertwee.

...and a motorbike-falling-off stuntman.

Not Jon Pertwee.

The Doctor's Quiquaequod moment is good fun, as are the evil Morris Men standing by calling him a "wizzorrrd" and demanding to "burrrrn him" (before being bamboozled by Miss Hawthorne, Sergeant Benton and a silencer). In amongst the crowd of locals, we have a few famous faces, too. There's John Scott Martin who would later go on to play many a Dalek:

"Ooo arrr, exterrrrrminate!"

And Labour leader Neil Kinnock:

Not really.

My personal favourite is the sinister, snake-like creature lurking in the crypt. How it didn't end up snaring Jo, I'll never know.

Look out, Jo!

If I had to pick the worst aspect of the whole story, it's the way it ends. The village church has literally just exploded. Even those villagers who had no idea about Azal and weren't watching the UNIT boys expending bullets like they were going out of fashion in a fight with a moving statue would have noticed that explosion. Yet, within minutes of it happening, they're all looping arm in arm to dance around a frigging Maypole!

Perhaps the villagers of Devil's End were all atheists. Party on!

"The Daemons" remains a firm favourite for me, however, and showcases the best of the Pertwee period. It may have its quirks, but it has aged tremendously well and is still a highly enjoyable romp.

For now, though, I'm with the Brig: "I'd rather have a pint."