Terror of the Vervoids | Sophisticated Idiots

Terror of the Vervoids
(aka The Trial of a Time Lord Part 3)
1986

Terror of the Vervoids review: The Vervoids gather

or Honor among Leaves

or Murder on the Oriental Poppy Express

Cards on the Table, Terror of the Vervoids isn’t the strongest of the Trial of a Time Lord Big Four, but the simple murder-mystery theme (the ABC Murders?) alone elevates it above its immediate predecessors.

Famously an Agatha Christie novel in space, Vervoids opens with a spot of Death in the Clouds aboard a spaceship heading for Destination Unknown.

From then on it’s an Endless Night of keep-fit, some half-decent baddie costumes and a new companion who should be credited on-screen as The Burden.

But let’s lock away the Christie references for now, perhaps in the Isolation Room where they can entertain themselves by smashing crockery. We’ve got a good old-fashioned Doctor Whodunnit to solve.

And the first question to ask in our interrogation of this chief suspect is: why has the Doctor become so inconsequential to the plots in his own show?

In Vervoids, Six seems utterly disinterested. It’s unclear whether this is a deliberate approach or if Colin has spotted Sylvester McCoy upstairs having a costume fitting.

We suppose it’s not impossible that the multicolour fella’s moping over the loss of Peri (unlikely). Or about having to endure this four-story Trial (more likely - and he’s not the only one).

Whatever the explanation, the self-confessed Judas goat is a passenger throughout Terror of the Vervoids to the extent that his very arrival elicits actual on-screen groans. The Commodore doesn’t attempt to hide his disdain whenever the Doctor enters a room. Honor scolds him routinely (at one point labelling him an “appalling dunderhead”).

Heck, even Mel condescends him.

As in previous Trial entries, Colin is instructed to mask this ineffectiveness with humour (genuine question: can anyone else remember a quip in all of Who that falls flatter than his terrible, “I didn’t even hear the dinner gong”?) and dialogue cranked to Maximum Pretention (“the syllogism only requires its grim conclusion,” he espouses).

As before, however, the self-aware dialogue is so on the nose it requires wart-removal surgery.

For evidence, see: the Doctor describing himself as a “clown” (we’re saying nothing) and outright warning the audience of what they should expect from Trial Part Three, “I don’t think you’ll find enjoyment’s on the agenda.”

Oh, and it’s the mid-80s so there’s an obligatory guest star whom JNT befriended over cocktails at a TV awards shindig.

Sadly, Honor Blackman doesn’t seem to be having a great deal of fun here, certainly not as much as Brian in the previous story (though to be fair, no-one’ll match Mr Blessed’s levels of on-screen merriment until Will Ferrell pulls on his Buddy the Elf tights).

Honor’s lack of enthusiasm can no doubt be attributed to her spending the entire running time in a velour tracksuit.

There is, of course, one ball of manic energy among all this who’s having a tremendous time. All 5ft 0in of her.

It’s a neat idea to show us a new companion without going through the rigmarole of their meet-cute with the Doctor.

Like starting a serial midway through the action, it’s an efficient pacing technique and throws the audience straight in (though we did have to check we hadn’t missed an episode – an exercise hampered by the unforgivable decision to name these Trial of a Time Lord Parts 1-14).

Obviously, it’s a shame the companion in question is Melanie Bush. But then again we’ve had the advantage (dubious choice of word…) of having seen her later appearances – therefore knowing that this, her debut, is Bonnie Langford’s strongest outing in the role.

Mel at least has some agency as a character here, before descending into a 2D scream queen for the rest of her mercifully short tenure.

It’s not all carrot juice and keep-fit zeitgeist nods, either. She’s the one doing most of the Miss Marple investigating by wandering off to explore (or, as she puts it, “thought I might do some limbering up”).

Don’t get us wrong, she’s irritating as hell, but this is her lowest level of unbearable.

We’re also relatively upbeat about the concept this story is attempting.

Yes, it rips off classic 1930s detective literature but the whodunnit gimmick can be shoehorned into Doctor Who surprisingly well. More importantly, it’s a tight plot that doesn’t require a post-credit trip to Tardis Wiki to understand what the flip we just watched.

The overarching premise, of plants taking over Earth, is an absolute winner. Cos, you know, one day nature will consume us. If next door’s brambles are anything to go by, anyway.

There’s also some really cool creature design on display here.

The Vervoids themselves are pretty darn awesome (and no, we don’t join in with the juvenile criticism that they resemble vaginas – lots of plants in nature do. Duh).

Even more impressive are the Mogarians.

Resplendent in their Bounty Hunter Leia cosplay, they’re an understated but suitably awesome aspect of the story.

Whether sitting down to play Space Invaders, saving the day when the black hole looms or speaking (when the fools remember to press their translator button) like clipped English BBC execs, they’re a real highlight.

Let’s go on a non-provocative stroll around the deck to detect some other suspects of quality evident in Terror of the Vervoids:

• We’ve been inspired to switch our cravat colour to indicate if it’s past, present or future.
• The scene with Mel being imperilled in the pulveriser generates genuine drama.
• The hilariously soulless passenger lounge is the drabbest hangout for secondary characters until the set is reused for Dragonfire.
• Amusing banana guns.
• Mel creeping through the air vent to warn the remaining passengers of the imminent hijacking involves the least subtle display of whispering – or acting by Baker – imaginable.

As nice as the Vervoids’ design is, their demise is even better. The browning of the leaves is Seasonal Affective Disorder on steroids.

That said, the Doctor does indeed wipe out an entire species. Which makes the enhanced charge of genocide a trifle tricky to refute.

Not that Big Colin makes much effort to defend himself. Earlier in the story, the Commodore hits the nail on the head when he scolds the Doctor for “standing there in your divine state of innocence”.

Which is perfectly apt. Many would indeed argue that Terror of the Vervoids is an Ordeal by Innocence. One which certainly puts the Cat Among the Pigeons.