In the car down to Worcester I’d been looking forward to our summer break. Eight months of solid shooting without pause can really take its toll – I wished I could have knocked it on the head after Spiders then started again, fresh, with Tom in the autumn. I didn’t want to be the tired one while everyone else looked so perky and up for anything.
As soon as I arrived all those cobwebs were pretty much blown away, though. There was such a buzz on set from working with the show’s first new Doctor in five years that any end-of-term malaise was simply swept away. By just being there Tom had given us all a shot in the arm.
There is always such a lot riding on the new Doctor’s first appearance, of course. Will he be liked? Will he live up to billing? David Tennant had to follow Chris Eccleston, which must have been terrifying. Then, of course, Matt Smith has had to follow David, arguably the most successful Doctor in history. As good as Tom was going to be, nobody really knew how he would be received. Wisely, Barry and Robert Holmes decided to pack his debut with some Who staples. Apart from me on the acting side there was a return for the Brig and Sergeant Benton; they also brought back Bessie. I thought the car would always be associated with Jon but Tom immediately made it his own. The way he clambered all over it like a Whipsnade monkey was uniquely him, right from the start. And the message to viewers was clear: same, but very, very different.
Location shoots can seem a little detached from reality. There’s a real Dunkirk spirit in the air: you’re all away from home, you’re stuck together for a few days so you might as well get on with each other as best you can. Any negative opinions or arguments could wait until we got back to London and the comfort zone of the rehearsal rooms. That’s how Jon used to be. Perfectly charming when you’re halfway across the country, but a royal pain in the backside, on occasion, when you’re locked in Acton for a week. So, as lovely as it had been so far, the real nature of Tom was yet to be seen.
Or so I thought. In the event he was exactly the same playful, powerful, kindly presence. And, most importantly, he was happy working together as an ensemble. Even though he was the star, he never needed to establish himself as the leader.
The only hitches, in fact, came at Television Centre. The 1970s were littered with industrial action from one quarter or another. TV certainly wasn’t immune. Our recording slots on Robot were really hit when the scene-shifters laid down tools. It sounds incredible, but these were the only guys who were permitted to move things on set. If they didn’t do it, no one else was allowed to either. One whole day was scrapped, I recall, and on the other we had to shoot around a step ladder that had been left out.
Honestly, I’m an Equity stalwart, but this was a joke. We were all aware of ten o’clock getting ever closer and one scene just could not be finished without moving a chair – which, of course, we were not allowed to do or the rest of the crew would down tools in sympathy.
Chris was pulling his hair out at this stage and I could see Barry was ready to throttle someone. Anyone would be with that deadline hanging over you and both hands tied behind your back. So I wandered over to the chair I was supposed to sit on. It was about a foot out of place. Not much on paper but with the camera angles and lights, it may as well have been a mile. This is ridiculous, I thought. After checking all the other crew members were otherwise engaged, I suffered a sudden fit of coughing and fell theatrically back into the chair.
When I stood up it was miraculously on its mark and ready to shoot.
‘I think we’re set to go over here, Chris.’
You don’t often see someone do a double-take in real life, but he did then.
‘So we are. Positions, everyone!’
The games we had to play …
* * *
No sooner had we wound down for summer than new scripts arrived, it seemed. The next serial scheduled for broadcast was The Ark in Space, but the first production of Season Twelve would be The Sontaran Experiment. For Robert Holmes’ first full season as script editor it made sense for him to revisit the race he had invented – especially if, as instructed, writers Bob Baker and Dave Martin adhered to the ‘one Sontaran only’ edict, which meant they could economise by using the same suit made for The Time Warrior. Money was very much an issue. Rather than have another six-parter, which Robert disliked as a format, he had decided to investigate having two serials of two and four parts. The latter would be shot entirely in the studio. Every shot of the former, however, would be filmed outdoors.
After a scout for a suitable West Country location failed, recharged after the break, we all jumped on the bus and headed down to Dartmoor. It was super to see everyone again. Tom was raring to go. I imagine Robot had felt like a false start – just as The Time Warrior had for me after the gap before Dinosaurs. Now he was fully fired up and bursting with fresh ideas for his character – never a dull moment with Tom, even then.
As well as Tom and Ian, it was also nice to see Kevin Lindsay back. Even though he was playing a different Sontaran this time – Styre, not Linx – he’d done such a sterling job on The Time Warrior that he was the only actor considered. Unfortunately he wasn’t in the best of health and requested a lighter suit, which was duly created. So much for Robert’s money-saving idea …
I don’t know what weather we were expecting on 26 September, but I do know that no one was dressed for it. Just staying warm and dry between takes was impossible so Philip Hinchcliffe sent us all down to the local chandlers to choose waterproofs and Wellingtons. The only things in my size were completely bright yellow: a hood, yellow bottoms, yellow top and yellow wellies. I looked like a giant canary – but at least I was dry.
For shooting, though, I was expected to wear a skirt and jumper and just hope for the best. Fine, I thought, it’s only for a few days. Then I noticed a line in the script: ‘Sarah Jane falls in the foliage’. I looked at the long grass all around and thought, No bloody way! What if a snake slides up my skirt?
I was head-to-toe in my Big Bird gear at the time, so I said, ‘Wouldn’t it make a spectacular shot if I was rolling around the grass in this yellow outfit?’
And do you know what? They went for it! So I got to spend the rest of the shoot in my sou’wester and wellies.
Snakes were a genuine fear. The terrain was bushy and hilly – perfect to represent future earth – and the perfect habitat for all sorts of wildlife, including adders. One lunchtime Terry Walsh and I were walking to the nearest pub to try and warm up when something came slithering out from under a boulder. For the first time in my life I genuinely screamed in fright. And what did our brave stuntman do?
He leapt about four foot off the ground!
It was like watching Nureyev at Covent Garden. One moment Terry was walking beside me, the next he was yelling, ‘What was that?’ and doing this sort of entrechat up in the air.
The pub was the highlight of the day – the weather on the moors at the start of the week was so bitingly cold you couldn’t stay out during breaks. We were filming at the top of the hill and lunch was right at the bottom. By the time we’d fought our way down in the howling winds there wasn’t actually time to eat and get back up, so on the really cold days we’d traipse over to one of the two pubs. The important thing was to grab something to warm you up. We used to come back full of rum and shrub, or brandy and lovage. Boy are they strong! We would literally weave back. Amazing how the freezing conditions sober you up.