Up the Killjoys!
Growing up in a flyover state, I got used to missing out on a lot of events. Bands would skip the City of Fountains in favour of St Louis or Denver. Road trips were necessities among my friends. When David Lynch’s Inland Empire came to theatres, I was already saving up for the trip to Denver. I had never seen a new David Lynch film in the theatre, and I wasn’t going to miss my opportunity. You can imagine my relief when a tiny ad in the local paper announced Inland Empire would be playing at the local arthouse for one week. In my excitement, I may have overdone it. Over the course of that week, I saw that impenetrable enigma of a three-hour film three times! A bit much, I know, but give me a break. I was in my twenties and used words like “cinema.” It’s ironic then, that watching the Criterion Collection’s recent digital upscaling of the film on my laptop helped me connect with the movie on a deeper level than three viewings on the big screen could manage.
There are purists out there who say that digital upgrades of old material are blasphemy. The Star Wars special editions remain a sore spot among old people like myself who wish they would continue offering the original versions. But in the case of Doctor Who, these digital updates can help stories rise to the greatness of their writing. While the quaint effects of classic Doctor Who are charming, they can also be distracting. Simply put, “Snakedance,” is far more engrossing when the snake doesn’t look like shit. I can suspend my disbelief, but I connect to the material so much more when it’s not necessary. “The Happiness Patrol,” is one of the latest stories to receive such an upgrade, and it’s the one I’ve been most anticipating. If ever there were a story that could benefit from widening its scope, it’s this one.
The “Doctor Who: The Collection,” series has been a must-buy for me. I’m not being a shill, it’s simply the truth. They announce them, I pre-order them. However, season 25 is a unique moment in the collection as it marks the Seventh Doctor era as the first completed era of a single Doctor. It would have been Colin Baker, but “The Twin Dilemma,” remains unreleased as it was still a part of season 21. It’s not surprising that Seven’s time in the TARDIS should be the first completed. It’s only three seasons, and it’s also very beloved. Many consider the Seventh Doctor era as a turning point, where Andrew Cartmel’s role as script editor started to pay off. Although the show was never able to regain the audience numbers lost during the hiatus of 1985, the show was something of its old self again.
Despite the reappraisal of the Seventh Doctor era, “The Happiness Patrol,” remains controversial among fans of the fuddy-duddy variety. Alright, maybe some of them have a point. After all, I did say I was anticipating this release, and not without reason. Three of the most common complaints revolve around the poor use of soundstages, the Kandy Man, and the Pipe People, in that order from most egregious to a minor quibble. It’s lucky then that the soundstages get the most attention, which lends credence to the other two.
As settings go, Terra Alpha is like many other Doctor Who planets- an entire planet with a theme and one language and government (other than the native Pipe People, of course). However, we receive very little in the way of establishing shots. There are no scale models of the city, no model of the planet itself. Instead, we open on soundstage dressed to look like a city street at night. Were it not for the street lamp, you could be excused for mistaking this as an indoor location. While it may have looked acceptable on a 1988 television, on Blu-ray, the illusion is lost. However, through the miracle of digital compositing, the new special edition opens up the skyline a bit. So when the camera pans down from the neon-signed horizon to the street level, it feels like a natural extension of a cramped city. The geography of Terra Alpha demands to be understood better as it can be rather confusing with little to no establishing shots. Even still, there are moments where the city feels shunted together. There’s even a moment where Ace casually wanders into the Kandy Man’s “Kandy Kitchen,” laboratory because why not? Why would a totalitarian regime lock the doors of its evil torture lab?
The government of Terra Alpha has outlawed feelings such as grief and anguish in favour of happiness and smug superiority. Led by a Thatcher cypher named Helen A, the Happiness Patrol roam the streets in golf carts whilst armed to the teeth with pink weaponry matching their hair and uniform. Nothing and no one is allowed to be blue, not even the TARDIS which they partially paint pink to bring it up to code. People vanish after Routine Disappearances where undercover agents pose as sympathetic ears to the plights of the downtrodden citizens of Terra Alpha. Muzak pours from tannoys on every corner in an attempt to liven up the city with cheeriness. The effect, however, feels more like Eraserhead or Auschwitz, where music fails to cover up the misery and danger permeating the atmosphere. Despite all of this, a resistance pocket of Killjoys put on demonstrations protesting the forced frivolity. Cutting through all of that muzak is the soulful harmonica of Earl Sigma, an outsider turned reluctant resident. As a visitor to Terra Alpha, Earl is given the designation of Sigma to indicate his outsider status.
Speaking of outsiders, the Doctor and Ace are questioned upon arrival due to their lack of badges. They’re designated Sigmas and told to stay within visitor boundaries, but the Doctor presses the matter of their lack of documentation as a means to get captured. I rather liked watching the Seventh Doctor purposely getting himself arrested. While McCoy’s portrayal as the Doctor in season 24 was whimsical and clownish, season 25 introduces a more Machiavellian side to the Seventh Doctor which lends him a far more nuanced quality than a man who purposely hangs himself off a catwalk from his umbrella. Now I say arrested, but nobody is actually arrested on Terra Alpha as there are no jails. At least, not by their definition. This is the waiting area. Don’t let the armed guard or the booby-trapped escape vehicle fool you.
Wordplay is a key aspect to Graeme Curry’s script. The Happiness Patrol finds inventive ways to redefine the world using language. It’s a chilling reminder of the ways our own government can redefine what a person is, what legal immigration looks like, or even where a country's borders begin and end. It’s impossible to get ahead when they keep moving the goalposts. Throughout Terra Alpha, Helen A’s propaganda can be seen far and wide. She transmits video feeds addressing the city directly through fruit machines with “jokes,” meant to undermine and dehumanise Killjoys. What is a Killjoy exactly? Well, anyone who disagrees with Helen A’s myopic view of the world. Anyone who might make Helen A feel sadness. Anyone who might make Helen A feel alone. Anyone who might make her question her moral code. While Curry’s messaging isn’t exactly subtle, it never winks and nods at itself. It strikes a balance of obviousness without insulting the viewer’s intelligence. Instead, Curry saves the groan-inducing dialogue for puns, of which there are many.
While in holding, the Doctor and Ace witness a public execution of a Killjoy. Some sources have claimed that the executed Killjoy is a queer-coded individual, but I fail to see it. I’ve seen people claim he is wearing a pink triangle, but thanks to the miracle of 4K digital restoration, you can see that the pink triangle is actually the result of a pink shirt under a partially zipped jacket. The only other pink triangles are the flags hanging from the cheery bunting. Don’t let me yuck your yum though. If you prefer the gay allegory, don’t let me stop you. What’s super weird about this scene, however, is the means by which the man is executed. A large metal tube is lowered over the man’s body and a deluge of liquid strawberry fondant pours into the chamber. It’s hard to tell what exactly kills him here. Does he drown in the fondant? Was the liquid scalding hot? Was it diabetes? It’s not entirely clear, but it is most definitely bizarre.
Bizarre and surreal are two words I would use to describe this serial. Perhaps the most surreal aspect at the chewy centre of this story is the Kandy Man himself. Full disclosure, but the first time I watched the Happiness Patrol, I had a hard time with the Kandy Man as a concept. I didn’t mind that he looks like Bertie Bassett as it fits Helen A’s bizarro brand of cloying cuteness, but the fact that he is made out of actual candy is baffling. Sure it’s weird to make a kill bot that looks like candy, but using actual candy is just poor craftsmanship. Call me crazy, but I feel like one of the first rules of building a robot is that its components should be non-perishable. They do mention the sugar beet fields of Terra Alpha. Perhaps sugar is easier to source than metal? No, there’s metal everywhere in the city. It’s just weird.
The Kandy Man’s body does seem to have a bit of reasoning to it. Gilbert, the Kandy Man’s assistant/creator mentions that the Kandy Man must keep moving or he will solidify. It seems like a design defect, but it really just makes Kandy Man more relatable. I too turn into a brick of toffee when I become too sedentary. What’s that? He’s also a moody artist forced by the government to use his talents for evil? Literally me. It reminds me a bit of how our own bodies are constantly warding off disease and decay. In a way, it makes the Kandy Man more than a machine, but something living. That and his human mouth painted blue which I had never noticed before seeing it in hi-def. Thanks to the Blu-ray upgrade, you can see the Kandy Man’s metal grill as clearly as Ace’s Batman earrings.
After watching their fellow non-cellmate get murdered by Helen A, the Doctor and Ace defuse the armed golf cart and escape. However, during the chase, Ace and the Doctor are separated. The Doctor is almost caught by an undercover agent named Silas P of the Happiness Patrol only to be rescued by Earl Sigma who knocks Silas P unconscious. When the patrol find their way to Silas’ whistle, they assume he’s the target and kill him, reminding the viewer that there is no safety under fascism. There is no way to be the perfect citizen. We will always fall short of unreasonable expectations– even you. Free from immediate danger, the Doctor and Earl make their way to even more danger. The Doctor wishes to find the Kandy Kitchen so that he may confront this confit hatchetman. Meanwhile, Ace ingratiates herself with a sympathetic member of the Happiness Patrol- Susan Q.
Susan Q, or Suzie Q as I like to call her, is disillusioned by Helen A’s vision for Terra Alpha, illustrating how even the converted can see the cracks forming. She was even demoted from Susan L to Susan Q after she was caught owning a blues record. She didn’t revel in the shooting of civilians and she expressed sympathy for the Killjoys. Because of this, she attempts to help Ace with her Happiness Patrol auditions, lest she becomes the next victim of the Kandy Man’s fondant surprise. Upon realising Ace couldn’t fake happy even when her life depended on it, Susan allows Ace to escape, thus endangering her own life. We stan Suzie Q in this house. She’s a good one, our Suze.
The Doctor and Earl get captured almost immediately. Gilbert and the Kandy Man tie them up in barber chairs in preparation for experimentation. The Doctor questions the Kandy Man and learns that the fondant tubes can be redirected. Remember how I said it’s weird that the Kandy Man is made of real candy? I believe this scene is why. You see, to trap the Kandy Man, the Doctor tricks him into knocking a bottle of lemonade to the floor. As the lemonade mixes with Kandy Man’s sugary feet, he’s locked into place and unable to move. The Doctor and Earl use this as an opportunity to escape into the underground of the city. The Kandy Man can only call out to Gilbert to come and set him free.
I’ve heard that the scenes within the Kandy Kitchen were originally supposed to be black and white with the Kandy Man in colour. Think Pleasantville but with a killer candy robot. However, the effect was scrapped most likely due to the limitations of technology and/or budget. You can see the concept of the idea in the black and white painted backgrounds which evoke a sort of “The Cabinet of Dr Caligari,” vibe. Part of me was hoping they would attempt this effect with the special edition, but I understand why they didn’t. It probably would have upset more people than it would have made happy. Even still, it could have been a cool extra to throw in.
As special editions go, the Doctor Who upgrades are usually very clever. While they do occasionally take a perfectly serviceable model shot and render it into an unnecessary CGI shot, they usually make good decisions. You younger people won’t really get this, but there was a time when special effects in television changed dramatically. After Jim Henson realised you could use latex skin over an animatronic to achieve Yoda, the industry standard for puppets and makeup changed overnight. Ten years later you started to see aliens and monsters in Doctor Who that were starting to look fairly believable. Sure, the concept of the Kandy Man is weird, but he never doesn’t look like a robot made of candy. And while not the most impressive puppet, Helen A’s pet Stigorax “Fifi,” was completely serviceable. Even the Pipe People look great. This is all to say, I am glad they didn’t try and change things for the sake of changing them.
While traversing the underground, the Doctor and Earl discovered Chekov’s sugar avalanche built up in the pipe. One wrong toot on Earl’s harmonica (Do you toot harmonicas?) and it could all come pouring down. They also meet the Pipe People who realise fairly quickly that they are allies through a mutual love of the blues and Ace. Throughout the story, the Pipe People do a lot of spying from manholes. Ultimately, however, they do very little. They’re a bit of an afterthought. While I do like their makeup, I totally forgot they were even in this story until they showed up. This is a fairly common complaint about them as many people forget about them. I chalk this up to Andrew Cartmel’s inexperience as a script editor. The Pipe People could just as easily have been rolled into the Killjoys for as much development as they get. I understand Graeme Curry’s desire to introduce a native species to Terra Alpha, but for as much impact as the Pipe People leave on the story, they may as well have saved the money from the makeup budget and put it into building better sets. However, they have a handful of fun moments like when they think Ace’s name is Gordon Bennett or when they orchestrate the Kandy Man’s death.
Sadly, one aspect of soundstage that can’t be improved with CGI is the frequency at which they reuse locations. Had they been able to shoot a story on location, they could have found numerous spots and angles to keep things fresh. Instead, the story reverts to a lot of the Doctor or Ace getting captured and escaping. It all sort of starts to blend together. It’s weird because they have to be so economical with the shortened time of a three-parter, and yet they have to keep coming up with new reasons to reuse a set. It’s possibly one of the messiest aspects of the story. The only workaround I can see if if they had scouted a location to stand in as Terra Alpha’s streets while maintaining the interiors on a soundstage. That or do a different story all together. But then we wouldn’t have this unique adventure.
The Pipe People help Ace escape, once again. Oh, did I not mention Ace got captured again? Only this time in the waiting zone, Ace is joined by Susan who has been discovered as a sympathiser. Their cruel jailor, the sadistic Pricilla P relishes the idea of their upcoming executions. Ace is sprung out of jail by one of the Pipe People and she absconds to the underground, sadly leaving Susan Q behind. But don’t worry, Ace is going to get captured again. I know you were concerned about that.
At this point, the story is all over the place. Helen A sends Fifi into the tunnels to hunt down the rebellion while the Doctor meets a census taker named Trevor Sigma. Because, sure, why not? The scenes between the Doctor and Trevor, while entertaining, are another addition to an already overstuffed story. I even took an inventory of the characters with my boyfriend and he had completely forgotten the existence of Trevor after having seen the story only two days prior. The Doctor then takes another excursion to stop a pair of snipers from taking fire on a group of Killjoys. It’s odd because the story is already experiencing bloat but I wouldn’t delete this scene for a few reasons. Firstly, it’s actually on theme. The Doctor is taking the time to humanise the dehumanised by closing the gap between sniper and target. It’s easy to take a life from a distance, but can he shoot the Doctor at point-blank range? It’s also great because it’s such a badass moment for Sylvester McCoy. There’s something about the Doctor begging to be annihilated that just gets my jollies. It’s truly one of his coolest moments as the Doctor. And lastly, at least they’re shooting a different set, or at least another angle of the same set. I’ll take a win when I can!
Ace stops Fifi with Nitro 9 only for Fifi to die later by sugar avalanche. It’s an odd choice when you consider the fact that they could have killed her with the Nitro 9 and left out the entire avalanche aspect altogether. I get that it’s a cool idea for Earl to resonate the sugar crystals until it caves in, but maybe pick one? I will say they did a good job on the puppeteering of Fifi running. I did giggle a bit at the way it was shot. They use such a wide angle that it makes Fifi appear very small inside that giant pipe. It undercuts her ferocity when you’re like “Awww puppy!” Maybe they were going for more of a scurrying look than a lurching look. Either way, I love Fifi’s mournful howl. I like that it evokes wolves or cats, but also sounds like its own creature looming in the distance.
Sheila Hancock dazzles as the contemptibly cheery Helen A. In just three short episodes, she sells herself as one of the 7th Doctor’s most memorable enemies. And as he would say- "You can always judge a man by the quality of his enemies." Doctor Who has had its fair share of evil men and women giving edicts from behind a desk, but there’s something about Helen A that sticks with you. She’s up there with Graham Crowden, Beatrix Lehmann, and Trevor Baxter - single-story actors who leave their mark in big ways. I love a Classic Doctor Who actor who throws themselves into their role. She’s having fun, and by extension, so are we. I also like that Helen A appears to be the only one allowed to wear red. That’s toxic girlboss energy and I love that for her.
Having the Doctor waltz into Helen A’s office is an unexpected pleasure. I like the way the Doctor is playing with the artifice that is Helen A’s rule. There are no prisoners on Terra Alpha. Why wouldn’t the Doctor be allowed in Helen A’s office? She has nothing to hide, after all. And he’s not an enemy of the state. All is well! Eat sugar, paint yourself pink, and carry on. The Doctor also learns of Helen A’s soft spot for Fifi. This somewhat ties back to my comments about Nitro 9 vs Sugar Avalanche. They establish Helen A’s love for Fifi to both the audience and the Doctor on numerous occasions. I may be wrong, but Helen A’s doting over a wounded Fifi undercuts her shock over Fifi’s death. I find it hard to believe she would send Fifi out again after such a close call. Then again, Helen A probably doesn’t love Fifi more than she loves herself. One thing I did find interesting about Fifi's bandages is that they seem to heal her. I wondered if these weren't maybe the same healing bandages the First Doctor wore in "The Edge of Destruction."
Having helped Ace escape, Susan Q is sentenced to death by fondant surprise but the Doctor stops the execution by trapping the Kandy Man with lemonade yet again. Worried that his insides will solidify into toffee, the Kandy Man releases Susan from her sticky fate. Once again, I am baffled by the Kandy Man’s design. He’s like one of those fish that stops breathing when it stops swimming. Or maybe it’s like how God gave me combined ADHD because he knew I would be too powerful without it. Gilbert’s little failsafe he built into the Kandy Man just in case he ever reached beyond his station. The Doctor unfreezes the Kandy Man and the Kandy Man stays true to his word and spares both Ace and Susan. What a day everyone is having.
One of the strengths of Graeme Curry’s script is that he’s able to keep all of these different balls in the air, with set-up and call-backs repeatedly paying off. Sure, there are moments when the Doctor feels like he is teleported from one location to the next, but everything has its place. Take Trevor Sigma, for example. I mentioned earlier that he’s yet another element in a fairly stacked narrative, but he turns out to be one of the most pivotal characters in the entire story. Due to his thorough census, there is now a paper trail for every person Helen A has disappeared. The holes where they used to exist paint the real portrait of a murderous despot. The paintings of Helen A plastering Terra Alpha are but a facade on her factory of death.
The death of the Kandy Man, brought on by a truly surprising wave of fondant, is the beginning of the end for Helen A. The remains of the Kandy Man flush down the tube like a blasting cap in sugar water. She had the sugar, the power, and the women, but she lost it all. What’s worse is those bloody Killjoys learned to beat her at her own game by adding cheeriness to their demonstrations. The Doctor, Earl, and the rest of the Killjoys disrupt Ace’s sure-to-be-fatal audition at the Forum with a public outcry of joy and merriment. Rubbing salt in her wounds, Helen A’s husband Joseph C and Gilbert M have stolen her ship presumably to open a bed and breakfast. I wish them both many years of happiness together. With uprisings all over Terra Alpha breaking out, the walls are closing in for Helen so she begins packing. However, while absconding, she is stopped cold by her beloved pet Fifi. Cradling her in her arms, Helen grieves while the rest of Terra Alpha laughs.
The special edition's ending differs from the original broadcast version's ending in a very simple yet effective way. As the TARDIS dematerialises, the camera now pans up to a neon sign that says “Keep smiling,” which then goes dark, implying the end of Helen A’s reign and the Happiness Patrol’s stranglehold on Terra Alpha. It’s such a better ending and so on theme that I don’t even care that the font they chose looks like it says “Keep sniling.” It’s a great example of how digital compositing can be more than set extensions. They don’t shy from making creative choices. The term “LOL,” was not heavily used in the 80’s, but having a sign that says “LOL POPS” makes the story feel retroactively modern, which feels wibbly wobbly timey wimey. And if you don’t like that, then just chalk it up to a burned-out “I” in “lolipops.” And then chalk it up to the signmaker not knowing how to spell lollipops. Maybe it’s the same guy who made the “Keep sniling,” sign.
If you’re a fan of the Seventh Doctor era, you owe it to yourself to check out this boxed set. It’s worth it for the special edition of “The Happiness Patrol” alone. Sure, sometimes the digital effects sit weird next to the video footage of 80’s Doctor Who, but you’ll soon forget that distraction a lot sooner than you would forget the distractingly tiny sets. It’s obvious this was a labour of love. They went big on this one and I appreciate them for that. But the real heroes are the original cast and crew for finding such an entertaining way to deliver some hard truths. Politicians who smile while stripping you of your rights are as relevant today as ever. It’s important for us that fiction be allowed to explore concepts like dehumanisation. If our politicians have more enemies than policies, maybe they’re only out for their own selfish means. No matter what happens, we all have to find our own happiness. Stay safe, and keep sniling.
