The Happiness Patrol

DVD NTSC
Region 1

DVD PAL
Region 2
Box Set
VHS Video
NTSC A
NTSC B
NTSC
PAL
(Doctor Who Story No. 153, starring Sylvester McCoy)
  • written by Graeme Curry
  • directed by Chris Clough
  • produced by John Nathan-Turner
  • music by Dominic Glynn
  • 3 episodes @ 25 minutes each
Story: The Doctor and Ace investigate disturbing rumours on a human colony on the planet Terra Alpha, where leader Helen A. rules with an iron fist and has outlawed sadness, routinely dispatching squads from the Happiness Patrol to eliminate citizens who indulge their miseries and depressions. Meanwhile, in a bizarrely mechanized kitchen, the Kandy Man is concocting some particularly deadly sweets.... Can the Doctor bring emotional balance back to this bizarre dystopian nightmare?

DVD Extras include:

  • Audio commentary by Sophie Aldred (Ace), script editor Andrew Cartmel, writer Graeme Curry,
    director Chris Clough, and composer Dominic Glynn. Moderated by Toby Hadoke.
  • "Happiness Will Prevail" making-of documentary (23 min.) adding actor David John Pope (Kandy Man).
  • "When Worlds Collide" documentary (46 min.) about political commentary in Doctor Who, with producer Barry Letts,
    script editors Terrance Dicks and Andrew Cartmel, and writers Bob Baker, Graeme Curry and Gareth Roberts.
  • Deleted and extended scenes (23 min.)
  • Isolated Music audio track
  • Pop-up Production Note Subtitles
  • Photo Gallery

In-Depth Analysis Review

by Martin Izsak

WARNING: This review contains "SPOILERS", and is intended for those who have already seen the program.
To avoid the spoilers, read the Buyers' Guide version instead.


This story is easily the most literal entry into the Doctor Who / science-fiction sub-genre of candy-horror, with the Kandy Man and his associated sweets featuring as the most externalized symbol of the story's theme of forced happiness gone to horrific extremes.

There are a lot of good things about this adventure. The Doctor's character is quite strong in this one, at least in terms of his abilities, and the adventure's many varied scenes appear to be packed full of psychological and social commentary, the stuff of really rich satire. But there are also two major problems with the tale. As is common with candy-horror stories, the rules of normal reality seem to be magically suspended to allow all the cute and sweet things to become so deadly - this time around perhaps not so much in terms of physics or chemistry, but more in terms of believing in the political set-up and its sociological continuation.

Secondly, the plot is quite slippery. We get tons of characters moving around in a lot of short scenes, and most of the time one can't keep track of what's motivating them, or what they're specifically trying to accomplish with their movements from scene to scene. Part Two is particularly troubled, as the only reason why the Doctor curtails most of his meetings and scenes seems to be to arbitrarily delay resolution in any of them until they recur again in the final episode. As poignant as the satire may be at any moment, the audience easily remains at a loss to know who or what to emotionally invest in.


The suspension of disbelief question really eats into this story. I'm not sure I understand really why Doctor Who's producers thought it was such a great idea to arbitrarily divide six episodes up between two stories, where one would be shot all on location, and another shot all in studio. It worked appropriately enough for "The Ark in Space" / "The Sontaran Experiment" (story nos. 76 & 77), and they generally got away with it in "Terror of the Vervoids" / "The Ultimate Foe" (story nos. 146 & 147), and again with "Delta and the Bannermen" / "Dragonfire" (story nos. 150 & 151). But why they continued to insist on it year after year, until it practically defined director Chris Clough's Doctor Who career, is a bit puzzling. It really falls apart here, where this story could obviously have been much more believable with real vehicles traveling down real exterior streets, while the following story traded off some of its exterior work for some studio time. As it stands, with walking looking much easier and faster than a ride in a go-kart, the audience has good reason to question why our protagonists spend so much time fiddling around with the things. Give us some open space and a decently fast vehicle, and suddenly, we'll invest ourselves in the protagonists' need to use it and spend time repairing it.

For me, the most important scene of the story is one that is built up to in early portions of Part Three, as most of the characters converge on a large square for a major confrontation. The whole plot turns here, and on a point that highlights the main theme of the piece. But sadly, the director and his actors and crew don't seem to have wrapped their heads around it very well, or are trying to cram it in before the studio shuts down at its 10:00 pm cut-off and they lose the set forever. Or both. This scene is so beautiful and perfect in the novelization, that it is an utter shame it was such a hack job on television. The key thing here is that members of the Happiness Patrol have become keen observers of human emotion, and they can recognize all the subtle distinctions between a person who is truly happy and a person who is faking it. These subtleties MUST be correct in the acting, or the scene can't function, and on TV, they totally didn't get it. The Doctor and all his friends need to be ecstatic and exuberant, for real, unshakably. But sadly, Sylvester McCoy is clearly faking it, over-the-top faking it at that, and most of his friends appear to be faking it in a lower-key as well. These are all good actors, capable of much better, but something went badly awry here.

Apart from a few gaffes such as this, Sylvester McCoy otherwise performs quite well in the story, particularly opposite characters like Helen A or Trevor Sigma. I was quite pleasantly surprised how strong his Doctor was in this one. Other good performances to watch out for include Rachel Bell as fanatically serious Patrolwoman Priscilla P, along with Sheila Hancock as Helen A. I don't know if it has anything to do with drawing on imitation of then Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, but both of these authoritative female performances seem to be miles better and more interesting than the cookie-cutter female villains we will later get in the New Millennium version of the show, or for that matter, in Tom Baker's debut in "Robot" (story no. 75).

Lesley Dunlop also does really well with her sympathetic role of Susan Q, once more making a good buddy for a Doctor Who companion. Still, her role as Norna in "Frontios" (story no. 133) was a bit more interesting, and of course part of a better story.

As for Ace herself, I think it shows that this story was the last one shot for season 25, as Sophie Aldred seems more relaxed and comfortable in the role, and her rapport with McCoy has gelled to a deeper level. Not that she wasn't excellent before, just that the fluidity of their relationship seems to have taken a quantum leap in between stories. Still, Ace doesn't get a lot of character-defining things to do here, as though you could just about swap in any generic Doctor Who companion into her role, and have it work equally well.

John Normington, more famous for playing Morgus in "The Caves of Androzani" (story no. 136), brings the character of Trevor Sigma to life here. Although it doesn't seem to be much of a role in Part One, it expands greatly later on, and he has a number of really good scenes with McCoy's Doctor. Nice.

Ultimately, there seem to be too many characters and too many ideas in play here for it all to be done justice in three episodes, and indeed much material appears to have hit the cutting room floor. The underground Pipe People, whom I had completely forgotten about, seem to deserve more screen time to define themselves, their civilization, and their aims, instead settling for a bit of rushed dialogue that is difficult to hear given the acoustics of the pipes. If this show was indeed meant to be a bit of a money-saver, it's a shame that it didn't start by reducing the cast to a more manageable and appreciable number.

In terms of characters, the Kandy Man easily becomes the most memorable lasting symbol for the tale as a whole. But despite a decent design for both him and the mechanistic kitchen he inhabits, not to mention an interesting bit of vocal manipulation reminiscent of the Silurians from "Warriors of the Deep" (story no. 131), he never really gets much of anything to do to make his character a formidable threat. He spends nearly all his minimal screen time in the kitchen, and most of that being stuck to the floor uttering pointless threats and whining for his daddy Gilbert.

Much of the story's design is wounded by a double-edged sword. Dilapidated set-design and bad, overdone make-ups are called for by the story in a way. Problem is, no one wants to see this when they tune in, and if they either miss its purpose or can't believe in it, it makes the story look cheap. Personally, I don't believe these colonial politics can force a human population into what visual states we end up enduring on screen. The Patrol members may end up with ugly make-ups as a matter of code-of-dress, but seeing the same on Harold V, or the Sniper characters, or on the Forum Doorman is a bit too much. Thank goodness Earl Sigma escaped such treatment, as it would have looked particularly ridiculous on his dark skin-tones.

Post-production effects are largely invisible this time, as they concentrate on picture-in-picture video phone calls, marriages between real sets and model extensions, and removal of on-set puppeteers, all of which are largely seamless and unnoticeable. A model shot featuring the planet in Part Three is nicely done - no problems with stars this time. Sadly, the patrol's fun-guns aren't deemed to deserve any decent lasers today, making do with spark charges going off all around the set instead. Not all that much fun.

Strangely, the outcome of the story seems to be decided long before the final confrontation between hero and lead villainess, and without the hero doing anything in the villainess's lair, which is somewhat excusable simply due to their having had a half-decent confrontation in her lair part way through episode two. Still, it's a bit strange that they've had so little interaction with such a civilized and thematic main conflict.

At any rate, their final meeting has a powerful sense of delivering a highly anticipated confrontation, and McCoy and Hancock act their hearts out to make the scene charged and poignant. Nice. In terms of putting the final comments on the main theme, it seems a bit on the preachy side, but not too much thanks to the actors handling the lines well.

Things change slightly as Fifi reenters the picture, and preachy hypothetics are exchanged for emotional tangibility - typically a smart move. It could be risky were Hancock not up to it, but she nails her part of the scene really well. Her character clearly dips into the "love me, love my dog" scenario where a person cares more for their pet than their spouse/partner, which, although twisted as usual, fits in nicely with the rest of her character, and the social commentary of the story as a whole. Personally though, I think the Doctor is a bit too smug here, considering how direct a hand he had in causing Fifi's death (or injuries, as Andrew Pixley's DWM archive suggests). A bit more understanding of Helen A's grief on his part, perhaps via an awkward Hartnell-style apology akin to that in "The Edge of Destruction" (story no. 3), would better demonstrate the emotional balance he claims to have brought to Terra Alpha. As it stands, the music swells during this conclusion, and I'm not sure I want to let my own emotions swell with it. The Doctor's just got a bit too dark and ego-centric in that moment for my tastes, although even that can be controversially interesting.


Dominic Glynn's score for this story is enjoyable, effective, and moody. It nicely sports influence from "the blues" to the support of the story's thematic content. But interestingly, candy-horror seems to like the waltz, and just as Dudley Simpson concocted an appropriately sweet but somehow creepy one for the clowns of "The Celestial Toymaker" (story no. 24), so now does Glynn create an equally cool one for the sugar-coated mechanics of the Kandy Man and his kitchen. A definite highlight. Sweet!


Ultimately, while there are plenty of redeeming features in this tale, they don't quite outweigh the story's faults and gaffes, not least of which was letting Part Three's turning point scene appear more fake than the story could bear. Although miles better than the previous season's worst dud, this story is likely to win the Wooden Turkey Award for season 25's least loved story.



This story is available on DVD and VHS video.
Click on the Amazon symbol for the location nearest you for pricing and availability:
DVD NTSC Region 1
for the North American market:
in the U.S.
in Canada
DVD PAL Region 2
"Ace Adventures" Box Set
for the U.K.
VHS Video
NTSC A
NTSC B
NTSC
PAL

Comments on this article are welcome. You may contact the author from this page:

Contact page


LYRATEK.COM


Read the In-depth Analysis Review for another story: "Silver Nemesis"



Home Page Site Map Star Trek Sliders Doctor Who Sylvester McCoy Era Episode Guide Catalogue