“Whatever blows can be sucked.”
Not The Creature From The Pit this time but a story which could be said, in American vernacular, both to ‘blow’ and to ‘suck’.
It’s Underworld – a production so maligned that even most of the sets refused to participate. A CSO mother lode in which Minyans are led by Minions, the proletariat dine on the very rock they mine and gravity does precisely whatever the hell it likes.
Meanwhile, Gwyneth Paltrow gets a drastic makeover, Mr Dors takes it lying down and Leela takes a fancy to a bit-part with a Rohypnol ray. Chuck in some deaf-blind guards, hordes of bored extras and some rather louche lift music and it really does feel like we’re descending to rock bottom.
So ‘the quest is the quest’ but will Jim and Martin see Underworld as a golden moment in Who mythology or will they end up feeling fleeced?
Listen in to find out.
“She tipped the ambassador into a pit and threw astrologers at him.”
Public Notice: Beware of low-flying Russell Grants.
What else could this be but 1979’s The Creature From The Pit?
It’s a somewhat green-tinged tale about an enormous slug who, despite being chucked down a pit and starved, still seems very pleased to see us. He shares the dank depths with Catweazle’s charlatan cousin but they’re soon joined by a somewhat over-stretched stuntman, a sweaty Doctor, a haughty Romana and a tin dog in the middle of an identity crisis.
Bad enough you might think but they also have to contend with a matriarch with magpie tendencies, Poundshop Fagin and his cronies and a conniving old crone. The addition of the whip-cracking Captain Camp and his homicidal sprouts just makes things even worse.
But did Jim and Martin fall for the Pit and its attendant charms or were they left green about the gills? Listen here to find out.
“Dross and baubles!”
A three-word review of The Pirate Planet by the salty cyborg himself?
Perhaps. Not that there’s much in the way of baubles, except for a compact and bijou planet made entirely from sweetie wrappers.
But there are some monkish mentalists who need a decent kip, a dangerously incontinent tin budgie and a heaving metropolis of eight souls (or eleven if you include the cosmos’s crappiest granddad, his doe-eyed granddaughter and her trigger-happy intended).
Does some semblance of an intellect lie behind the Pirate Captain’s relentless ranting? What’s his kinky nurse-patient role-play all about? And could his garrison of gimp guards even hit a cow’s arse with a banjo?
Listen in as Jim and Martin ponder these questions while also wondering if walking the plank might be preferable to sitting through this again.
“There are three physical gateways and the three are one. The whole of this domain, the ancient arch, the mirrors. All the gateways are one.”
You what? Run that by me again…
Don’t expect any more sense than this from anyone else, for this is Warriors’ Gate – a tale with dialogue so oblique it makes Samuel Beckett sound like Dan Brown.
It’s an odd sort of a place too, wherein suits of armour give history lessons, lion men fail to tip waitresses and everywhere could do with a touch of colour to cheer it up a bit.
The Doctor’s flipping, Adric’s tossing and Romana’s turning away from her TARDIS chums. K9’s lost his marbles and Rorvik’s losing his rag as his bumbling underlings are set to lose the E/N-Space Crew of the Year competition – by some margin.
So will Jim and Martin stagger through the choking fog of befuddlement and reach the sunlit uplands of understanding? Or will what remains of their brains melt in the attempt?
Listen in to find out.
“I sense the vicious doctrine of egalitarianism.”
Not our words, the words of financially-motivated, fish-blooded fungus, The Collector.
One of The Sun Makers, this blob of seaweed with ideas above its station loves a healthy balance sheet and an unhealthy executionee but meets his match when the 4th Doctor, Leela and K9 visit plutocratic Pluto.
It’s a miserable world of wooden tables, cardboard control panels, unappetising curries and clown’s-pocket-sized credit cards.
The Doctor moos like a cow, Leela fights like a wildcat and K9 acts like a dog – much to Martin’s incandescent rage.
But is the story as saleable as a tray of hot cakes or a bucket of cold sick?
Listen and find out.