One of the worst aspects of growing up watching such a long-running and old programme such as Doctor Who, is that you feel an extra-painful twinge of sadness when one of its stars dies. My first remembered experience of this was my beloved Jon Pertwee way back in 1996, and it doesn’t get any easier with time. I have already waxed lyrical on the character of Liz Shaw, way back when I did my geek-a-thon tribute to all the Who girls, but it’s worth saying again that Caroline as Liz was one of my favourite companions – despite her all-too-brief tenure by the Doctor’s side. She had the best legs in Who, was a notable exception to the screaming, helpless girl template (a condition suffered by so many in that programme) and was the most perfect foil to my favourite Doctor.
One of the few recent passings which has actually left me rather embarrassingly weepy, perhaps because of the childhood significance (although Sarah Jane was long gone as a companion by the time I was born, I grew up watching her episodes on scratchy VHS…). I can’t really say any more than any of the other fans are right now, and I didn’t know her to say anything very personal. So I will do what I do best, posting some of my favourite images of Lis Sladen as Sarah Jane, Bus Stop wearer extraordinaire and one of the best Who-ladies ever….
Have decided, after watching the first episode again and enjoying the second episode first time around on Saturday, that I am thoroughly loving the new Doctor. But then I am clearly quite fickle in my geek love, for I was quite mad for Tennant and my second childhood crush was Peter Davison. I think I’m just extremely ‘ok’ with the whole regeneration concept. It certainly never bothered me as a kid. Much like reincarnation; it carries on with a different face and personality, but ultimately it is the same soul/character.
Matt Smith is beautiful in a bizarre kind of way: cheekbones to die for, almost invisibly fair eyebrows and that hair. Oh! the hair. I must admit to being rather biased in that direction because my favourite man has pretty much got the same hair. Rowrrrrrrrrr.
I’m also very taken with his style. Young geeky guy does old fogey with great charm and panache. Bow ties? Haven’t been a huge fan up until now, I prefer a nice cravat or kipper, but Dr Eleven is working it very well. Tweed jackets? Braces? Sighhhhh…..
Ultimately though; pinstripes, tweed jackets, bow ties or cricket whites; something tells me that nothing will ever top the Pertwee-era.
Caroline John as Liz Shaw (1970). Possibly the best pins in Who History, Caroline John was the natural successor to Wendy Padbury’s brainbox character of Zoe. Except Liz (great name, non?) was a modern day woman who just happened to be a brilliant scientist in her own right.
Brought in as UNIT’s replacement for The Doctor initially, she would end up ‘assisting’ him (in his exile on Earth) for four stories in Jon Pertwee’s debut season as The Doctor. She was the perfect foil for his slightly pompous, dandy Doctor, being as she was rather down-to-earth and of a relatively equal intellect (for an earthling anyway).
She also ran around in some seriously scanty skirts, fabulous knee high boots and even a floppy hat in The Ambassadors of (ping!) Death. Thus showing that the length of a gal’s skirt is not relative to the size of her brain. And also, yet again, proving that Doctor Who was no place for maxi skirts.
Overshadowed by her successors, and sidelined somewhat by her brief tenure by The Doctor’s side (she never even got a jaunt in the Tardis, poor love!) Liz Shaw is one of my favourite companions – for she was an intelligent, independent woman who neither needed, nor fell in love with, The Doctor.
Dear, lovely intelligent Liz Shaw. So of course the producers decided to continue in their inspirationally modern slant on the screaming companion character in the newly liberated Seventies. Right? Wrong. Say hello to Jo Grant (1971-73), and her knickers.
I’ve already blogged about Miss Grant as a Fashion Icon, thanks to her prediliction for dressing in head to toe Biba. Jo was wonderfully ditzy, seemingly rather dim and considerably younger than her predecessor. The implication was made that her promotion into UNIT was thanks to some healthy nepotism, but she was certainly a bright spark when it was needed. Although always with a giggle and a flutter of those spidery Biba eyelashes.
The Doctor certainly seemed to enjoy her company, although I would dispute that he preferred his companions to be a little bit screamy and stupid. He was certainly frustrated by her silliness, and charmed by her hidden depths, which would imply that he really does prefer a bit of spunk and spark in his companions. Jo was rather too much the adoring girl though, which often brought out the most patronising aspects of her mentor’s character.
All this aside, and I’m not even sure where I stand on Miss Grant – except that I would happily stand on and squish her in an attempt to get into her wardrobe and steal most of her gear, she was certainly adorable, always fabulously attired and occasionally quite brilliant. I won’t go into specific episodes because each and every one is a gem where Jo’s clothes are concerned, and each and every one is a Biba gem at that!
They returned to a slightly more sophisticated young woman for the next occupant of the Tardis wardrobe. This time dressed in Biba rivals Lee Bender for Bus Stop, Sarah-Jane Smith (1973-76 and beyond) was a fiesty reporter/journalist type who would stride headfirst into situations and enjoyed an occasionally snippy dialogue with her first Doctor. This first generation Sarah-Jane was my favourite and, unlike most people, I truly loved (and never questioned) that she was paired with Pertwee in The Five Doctors in 1984. Alas though, it eventually went horribly wrong with The Doctor’s regeneration and the introduction of a certain Mr Harry Sullivan.
Originally, the replacement for Jon Pertwee had been intended to be an older actor in the same vein as William Hartnell’s interpretation of the character. So producers had hired Ian Marter to play a new male companion (the first since Jamie left in 1969), because they felt they needed a virile young man to do….well, virile young man things. Nevermind that they already had Elisabeth Sladen as a strong female character, of course they needed a chap for chap things. In the end, as we now all know, they hired a young Tom Baker for the role who was perfectly capable of running around and in no need of a Harry Sullivan. So with effectively a ‘spare’ companion, they had to relegate poor Sarah Jane to mere screaming, girly companion character to give Harry enough to do (and provide enough of a contrast to the two male leads).
Harry: I say Doctor, steady on now old chap….I mean…..golly…..gosh…..that’s really rather beastly….
Sarah Jane: *wibble* *scream*
Doctor: There’s just no debate is there?
Now I love Harry and his excessive poshness. But thankfully he was let go by the end of this debut Fourth Doctor series, and Sarah Jane was finally able to regain her place as The Doctor’s main squeeze. Although she never did quite recover from this volte face in her characterisation, and remained perhaps a little too girly and screamy for my liking. Luckily, Sladen has had another chance (or three) at the role (most recently in her own series spin-off from ‘Nu-Who’) and has returned to the stronger character I so adored in her first series with Pertwee.
Style-wise, she must be applauded for never wearing a mini skirt and thus breaking with classic Who tradition that, regardless of how long skirts may be outside the Tardis, the companion always deems a mini skirt to be suitable quarry-sprinting attire. She donned a very cutesy print maxi dress in The Masque of Mandragora, one of Victoria’s alleged cast-offs (peculiarily Edwardian for Miss Waterfield but we’ll let that go) in The Pyramids of Mars and who on earth could forget the Andy Pandy striped dungarees from her departure story, The Hand of Death?
Let’s just pretend her rescue from a little tumble down a slight incline in The Five Doctors never happened shall we?
Part II coming soon (where we see the true meaning of the phrase “One for the Dads”, see where Servalan’s cast-offs ended up and try to work out why on earth a fully grown woman in a school uniform would be such a popular companion?).