HYPNOGORIA SUMMER SPECIAL 13 - It Came From Beyond the Chiller Cabinet Part I

For our summer special season this year, we take at look back at the days with ice lollies and frozen snacks went all freaky, geeky, and intergalactic! In this first chapter we discover how ice lollies could get you into Moon Fleet, fighting Daleks with Doctor Who, encountering Red Devils and Jelly Terrors, plus adventuring with a host of Gerry Anderson characters! 

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HYPNOGORIA 170 - Tardis Tuners & Zone Boxes

In this episode we pay a visit to the 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat to investigate some very rare and rather weird items of science fiction merchandise! First we ask what exactly was a TARDIS Tuner? And why had it never actually appeared in Doctor Who? Then we investigate the  Zone Box, a piece of tie-in tat for The Twilight Zone that is as bizarre as it is obscure! 

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MICROGORIA 79 - Out of this World and other Intergalactic Vinyl

In this episode we voyage to galaxies long, long ago, and far, far away to revisit the assorted science fiction sound effects LPs issued by the BBC back in the early 1980s. These slabs of interstellar vinyl saw the BBC Radiophonic Workshop conjuring up galactic soundscapes and space-age sonics for the likes of Doctor Who, Blake's 7 and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, plus many strange new worlds all of their own. 

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COMMENTARY CLUB - Minisode 003 - The Five Doctors

In a special episode to celebrate the life and works of Terrence Dicks, who sadly passed away this week, we hop in our TARDIS to revisit the feature length special , The Five Doctors, which originally aired on November 25th 1983 to mark the 20th anniversary of the long running BBC SF show.

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THE 'ORRIBLE 'OUSE OF TERRIBLE OLD TAT - Who Trumped?

Welcome back dear fiends to the 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat! A few weeks ago we were rummaging in the games cupboard and unearthed a fondly remembered deck of cards that was essentially a set of Marvel superhero Top Trumps. They were made by the toy company Jotastar, who held a great many licenses to produce spin-off and tie-in tat for a variety of kid-friendly franchises and properties. However this Marvel card game was not their only foray in the twilight world of exactly-like-Top-Trumps-except-in-name-only card games. For in 1978 they produced another suspiciously Trump-like card game but tied to another legendary fictional universe - Doctor Who.

Back in 1978, Doctor Who was enjoying one of its many golden ages, for this was the era of the Fourth Doctor. And not only was Tom Baker's incarnation of the Time Lord that delighting the kids with his own brand of anarchy, humour and jelly babies. He was teamed up with popular companion (and in particular very popular with the Dads watching), Leela, she of the handy dagger and tribal garb, plus at that time was just coming to the end of a run of particularly scarifying stories, which had greatly expanded the Who canon of iconic monsters and villains. 

Now the card game produced by Jotastar was assembled by using pretty much the same template as their Marvel game, with the same rules being were used with minor tweaks here and there. Aside from the rules text being rewritten to include references to the long running  SF show, there was a slight change to the stats on the cards - while we still had the attributes Special Powers and Weapons, just like the Marvel deck, instead of Physical Strength we now had Mental Ability - a fitting change as the Doctor tends to outthink his enemies rather than throw buses at them.

Just like the Marvel game, you could divide the pack into to halves and play the good guys vs the baddies. However it is here that this game goes a little weird. For over the years the Doctor has had a long line of companions and assistants, plus he has met a host of good characters who have helped him out, such as the Brigadier, assorted Time Lords, Thals, and so forth. However somewhat weirdly, in the Heroes list the only familiar faces we have are the Doctor himself (obviously) and the TARDIS.  And instead of other characters from the show's history, we have the following - 

HEROES
Alexander the Great
Annie Oakley
Boadicea
Chaka King of the Zulus
Colonel James Bowie
Davy Crockett
Doctor Who
Geronimo
Hercules
King Arthur
Lord Nelson
Parthian Warrior
Robin Hood
Samson
Sherlock Holmes
Shiao Chi Samurai Warrior
Spartacus
The TARDIS
Thor
Wyatt Earp

Yes for some reason it was decided that famous historical characters should be the good guys. The rules refer to this disparate group as "the Legendary Legion". Now firstly it is only right and proper to question why we have mythological characters (such as Thor) and fictional folks (Sherlock Holmes) rubbing shoulders with actual historical personages. But to kids back in the 1970s the more important question was "Why the hell are this lot in here? They were never in the show!". Well alright, Wyatt Earp had appeared in an First Doctor Story The Gunslingers, back when the show still did purely historical stories without any alien monsters in. But even so, that was back in 1966, well before most of the target audience would have been able to remember, or even been born. So then, here was a Doctor Who game in which nearly the half the cards had bugger all to do with Doctor Who.

On the whole, looking at the selection of characters in the deck, I rather suspect the deck was devised by someone who had never seen the show properly - which would explain the good guys being pulled from history books. And as for the Aliens selection, it looks like they just went through the seminal Target tie-in tome The Doctor Who Monster Book which was first published back in November 1975 (and you can read about it here). And hence, there are no monsters more recent that Tom Baker's first season (Davros and the Zygons). However while it was suspicious there were no newer monsters and villains, in all fairness  it is a rather good list of famous foes! 

ALIENS

Davros
Gellguards
Omega
Sea Devils
The Autons
The Axons
The Cybermen
The Daemons
The Draconians
The Giant Robot
The Ice Warriors
The Mechanoids
The Ogrons
The Sensorites
The Silurians
The Sontarans
The Spiders of Metebelis
The Wirrn
The Yeti
The Zygons

However there is an obvious anomaly - for although we do have their creator, Davros, their hired muscle, the Ogrons, and two races they fought bloody and bitter wars with, the Mechanoids and the Draconians, the Doctor's most famous enemies, the Daleks do not appear,  Possibly this was down to the fact that Terry Nation, who originally created the intergalactic terrors, still owned the copyright to the Daleks, and indeed around this time he was considering various plans featuring the pepperpots from Skaro such as having them appear in Blake's 7 and developing a separate Dalek series.

However judging from some of the attributes given on the cards, it is equally plausible that the Daleks being missing was just a blunder. For it seems clear that not only had whoever devised the set never seen Doctor Who, they were also wildly oblivious to both history and even what was on the cards. For example, Boadicea has a Weapons score of 0 despite being shown waving a dirty great sword and riding in her famous chariot with spiky wheels!

Sadly also the artwork on the cards isn't quite as good as the Marvel pack. Some cards do like rather nice, and it's fun to see familiar faces for Whoniverse rendered in a pseudo comic-book style. On teh downside though, many are clearly copied from very familiar photos (hello again Target's Doctor Who Monster Book) and some look distinctly wobbly. Also as many of photos used as reference were in black and white (spookily enough just as they all were in Target's Doctor Who Monster Book), you can see where the artist has just been guessing what was in the dark, smudgy areas. The Ogron is a great example of this, with clear guesswork filling in many areas of shadowed detail, and the whole picture looking like a ripply funfair mirror reflection. See also the background face on the Spiders from Metebelis card, whose features have been clearly surmised from a blurry photo.

On the whole then, while it seemed like a brilliant concept, sadly this Doctor Who Trump Card Game didn't deliver on its promise. Nor did it live up to its Marvel cousin - while that card game had felt authentic and official, to the extent it was like a little loose leaf encyclopedia or guidebook for the Marvel Universe, the flawed execution of the Doctor Who game clearly marked it out as cash-in tat. Much like the Doctor Who Annuals of the same era (more on which another day) or the previously discussed TARDIS TUNER, while we were happy to have them - there wasn't a lot of merch about back then remember -  at the same time you knew they weren't exactly right; they weren't proper Doctor Who like the Target Books or the Palitoy Talking Dalek. In fact in many ways they were a pale shadow of Doctor Who cards given away free with Weetabix around the time which featured not only better art but an innate understanding of the series (and again, more on those another day)

However despite all that, the set now goes for a hefty price, with many sellers flogging off individual cards for a couple of quid a go. And while my inner collecting geek naturally baulks at breaking up sets and selling off cards one by one in this manner, at the same time I can understand why you might really want, for example, the Sea Devil or Mechanoid cards but be more than happy to pass on the wobbly Ogron... 

If you want to see the set without paying an arm or a leg you can download a copy here - DISCLAIMER - I have no idea about the legality of this

THE 'ORRIBLE 'OUSE OF TERRIBLE OLD TAT #29 - A Tune In For All Time Lords

Welcome once again dear fiends to the 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat! That's it, step inside... But don't touch that! Anywho dear friends, last time we were talking of when the catalogue was king, that now almost forgotten age of non-digital home shopping, a time when with nothing more advanced than a big glossy book, a pen and a stamp or two, you could order all manner of goods to be delivered to your door. However in this pre-internet age, there were actually some items that you could only get through mail order, something their manufacturers proudly trumpeted in the marketing - "Not available in any shop!". And were these rare and difficult to obtain items any cop? Well, therein lies a tale or two... Some were very good, some very bad, and indeed, a few were ugly. However sometimes these mail-order-only goodies went beyond the parameters set by Sergio Leone, and some were just downright weird!

These days, if a show or a movie is successful, it's instantly merchandised to the proverbial hilt, with the brand being instantly licenced for everything from comics to clothes to cruet sets. And in some cases even actual hilts, well, replica swords at any rate. However in ages past, the availability of tie-in items were often sporadic, and often what was up for sale was rather eccentric. Now then, at the close of the 1970s, the most popular SF show, was one of the most popular TV shows  in Britain full stop. With Tom Baker helming the TARDIS, Doctor Who was enjoying a huge wave of popularity. And hence, somewhat surprisingly, it was only in the time of the Fourth Doctor, some ten years into the life of the hit series, that we got much in the way of proper merch. As previously discussed, it was in this jelly baby era that the first proper Doctor Who action figures appeared. Also this was the period when the Target novelisations began to fly off the shelves, and more exciting still, a weekly comic - Doctor Who Weekly - first appeared.  

Back in those pre-web days, specialised publications served a unique role. For aside from serving up content dedicated to their chosen area of interest, such magazines provided a valuable micro market for advertisers and mail order shops. Now then, around the same time, an electronics firm called Shortman Manufacturing wangled a license to produce tat for the Doctor Who brand. But the question was what? Despite its popularity, Doctor Who was always somewhat tricky to merchandise for - there weren't a host of exciting space-age vehicles like the Gerry Anderson shows, the Doctor didn't carry anything in the way of weapons that could be turned into toy guns, and he didn't wear a special outfit or costume either. In those days, even the now very toyetic sonic screwdriver wasn't used that much in the old series. Hence Shortman came up with a novel idea - how about an item that had never and would never feature in the series, but you could stick a Who logo on! Perfect!

And so the TARDIS Tuner was born! Pimped frequently in the pages of Dr Who Weekly and comics such as 2000 AD from 1978 onwards, with a full page comic strip ad, thousands of kids wondered what the hell a TARDIS TUNER was! The adverts proclaimed it was a "A TUNE IN FOR ALL TIME LORDS", but a little careful reading of the blurb revealed it was in effect a jazzed up medium wave transistor radio. Priced initially at £14.25, but later climbing up to £19.91, this seemed a bit steep for a novelty tranny even it if was a rather chunky one -  approximately 20 cm x 15 cm x 8 cm (that's approx 8" x 6" x 3" in old money). 

However powered up by 4 AA batteries (or HP7s as they were back in the day), admittedly it did do other things too! The full, if somewhat cryptic, list of features was as follows -  

• Mind blowing volume control
• Built in radio receiver, 
• picks up radio 1, 2 & 3
• ‘Laser light control switch’
• Constant flashing laser lights
• Radio tuner for crystal clear reception
• Time warp bleeper control switch
• Tough moulded matt-black casing stands up to the heaviest landings
• Sliding door for battery supplies

Wait a minute! This had lasers?!? Take my money now!

Of course it didn't really have lasers, just some bog standard flashing lights. Now I'm not sure whether Shortman were hoping that no one would be daft enough to think the TARDIS Tuner really had lasers, or were actually daft enough to believe the blurb but conveniently also be too stupid to start legal proceedings. Either way though, to a child of the 1970s, flashing lights were very cool in themselves. Yes, I know, simpler times!  *Insert favourite old git rant of your choice here*

So what did this space-age gadget actually do? Well after literally years of idly wondering what a "Time warp bleeper control switch" did, at last the truth can be revealed! Switch 1 toggled the TARDIS Tuner  between  "Radio" or "Lights" mode. In "Radio", obviously you could listen to the radio. No Radio 4 though as this didn't pick up FM, but I'm sure that wasn't a huge deal for the nation's kids. However its in "Lights" mode where things get interesting. In this second mode, you could no longer use the radio, but instead the TARDIS Tuner can be made to emit a range of electronic noises. Well, a range of two electronic noise -  the second switch - "Switch 2" natch - allows you to chose between "Morse Warp" or "Laser Bleep". However by using the volume control you could modulate the pitch of both of these to create eerie space age oscillating tones... or just a racket to annoy everyone else in the house with at any rate! 

The TARDIS Tuner in action!

However one does wonder whether the advertisers had much faith in it as the faux strip hawking it was entitled "Doctor Who and the Turgids". Methinks someone was having a laugh there. But despite soundly horribly low tech to modern ears, and to be honest even potentially disappointing back then, quite clearly the TARDIS Tuner sold well enough, for it was advertised in the pages of Doctor Who Weekly and other comics for several years. And now this totally non-canonical item has become popular with Who cosplayers, with a working model going for a 100 quid recently! 

THE 'ORRIBLE 'OUSE OF TERRIBLE OLD TAT #18 - It Came From Beyond the Chiller Cabinet... Or Possibly Skaro (Slight Return)

Welcome once again dear fiends to the 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat! Now then, on your past few visits, we been hanging around a vintage freezer and exploring the weird and wonderful world of ice lollies of yesteryear. Last time we saw how the long-running Sky Ray lolly had a hugely successful tie-in with Doctor Who, and this week we are looking at a time when the lolly world once again caught a dose of Dalekmania... 

As we have previously documented, well at least in the slack arsed mixture of trivia and flippant remarks that passes for historical research around here, the 1960s were the beginning of the Great Lolly Wars, a groovy time when many corner shops gained a chiller cabinet, which in turn played host to a new wave of frozen confectionary and icy snacks. Now it didn't take long for the highly competitive new market to realise the power of the tie-in, and as well as the previously discussed Doctor Who promos, there were other tie-in campaigns with properties popular with the pocket money crowd. For example, the Orbit lolly had a tie-in with Captain Scarlet, the Sky Ray rival Zoom allied itself with another Gerry Anderson Show Joe 90, while the Fab lolly rather cleverly featured Lady Penelope and Parker from Thunderbirds on its wrappers for a time.

However in the 1970s, the lolly makers would change tack. Throughout the '60s numerous new species of lollies had been concocted, but few ever lasted more than a few years. So then instead of trying to breathe new life into an existing lolly, one that was already looking a little long in the tooth, with some tie-in promotion, they hit upon the idea of cutting out the middle-man and launching lollies directly branded to the tie-in property. And one of the earlier and finest examples of this approach hit the shelves, well the chiller cabinets in 1975. 

Now in the closing overs of 1974, a new Doctor had taken over the TARDIS, with Tom Baker beginning his long-running tenure of the role. And this newly minted Fourth Doctor would meet some old enemies in his first season, most notably with a six part adventure now regarded as one of the great classics of the original series - Genesis of the Daleks which aired in March and April 1975. This tale not only introduced the iconic villain Davros, the twisted genius who created the Skaroine terrors, but also kicked off a fresh wave of Dalekmania.

As we heard last time, lolly giant Walls had made a pretty penny in the first great wave of Dalekmania back in the mid '60s with their Sky Ray tie-in. However while Sky Rays were still rocketing out of chiller cabinets throughout the '70s (and indeed into the '80s too), rather than dust off the old market strategy, instead the boffins at Walls' secret labs created a brand new lolly just for the Daleks! Sporting a tasty combination of mint and chocolate ice cream, in 1975 the Dalek's Death Ray hit the shops! 

Now many of these kinds of novelty brand lollies never lasted long, however the Dalek's Death Ray terrorised the nation's freezers for three glorious years. However apart from having a great flavour - which is more than can be said for other tie-in lollies I could mention), Walls cunningly made the wrappers of these lollies collectible in themselves. The first wave of Death Rays in 1975 - retailing at 5p! -  came with three variants - 

• Plain (no feature) 
• Make A Dalek 
• Win a Real Life-Size Dalek 

However the following year, in 1976, Walls started branding the lollies with the tag-line "From the World of the Daleks", and launched a series of wrappers to collect, that featured art and text all about the Daleks. Here a listing of the full series -

• Transmol
• The Grenium Invisibility System
• Dalek Officer
• The Cyclops Z-Ray
• Daleks and the Ancient Britons
• When the Daleks Flooded the Earth!
• The Swamp Creatures of Terroth
• A Dalek Deep Space Battle Cruiser

And in 1977, Walls repeated the same trick, with Dalek's Death Rays now featuring a series of wrappers detailing "The Incredible Daleks" -

• A Dalek Raid against the primitive Megapods
• How Daleks bend time
• A Dalek ‘Buggy’
• The great Dalek workshops on the planet Styros
• Venusians attack a small Dalek base
•  A fleet of Dalek Starships in a meteor storm
• The Great Laser ‘Destructor’ used to conquer the planet Ur

Now on the face of it, it might seem that these collectible wrappers were something of a step down from the '60s Sky Ray tie-ins, which boasted individual, full colour cards to collect, plus send-offs for books and badges. However while it was undoubtedly a cheaper promotion, it did have some advantages. Firstly the smaller number of wrappers - 8 in the From the World of the Daleks range, and 7 in The Incredible Daleks - meant that it was far easier for kids to collect and complete their sets - by way of contrast the '60s Sky Ray lolly promo featured a whopping 36 cards. Secondly they were also easier to collect - the earlier cards that you had to buy sight unseen, whereas with these, you could just sort through the lollies in the shop and select the wrapper you didn't have.

And I have no doubt that if the Daleks had appeared again on TV in the late '70s, this rather tasty lolly would have lasted longer too. But as it was, the Doctor was not fated to meet his oldest foes again until 1979 in Destiny of the Daleks, and hence with no new appearances to stoke the fires of Dalekmania, sadly the Dalek's Death Ray never returned for the summer of 1978. Of course, by then there was a  new kid on the scifi block and naturally that summer the chiller cabinet was visited by a lolly from a galaxy far far  away... But that's another story! 

THE 'ORRIBLE 'OUSE OF TERRIBLE OLD TAT #17 - It Came From Beyond the Chiller Cabinet... Or Possibly Skaro

Welcome once again to the 'Orrible 'Ouse of the Terrible Old Tat! That's it, come in! Be careful not to trip over all the dropped 'H's mind... Anyhow, what can I get you? Cup of tea? Pack of hedgehog flavoured crisps perhaps? No? Well, at risk of sounding like the Child Catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, can I offer you a lolly?

Now then, last time we were taking a look at some of the cunning promotions employed to hawk one of Britain's longest-lasting species of ice lolly, the space age Sky Ray from Walls. Now in the mid-60s, this rocket-shaped delight had offered assorted merchandise under the name of Moon Fleet, a kind of pretend NASA for the nation's kids. However later in the decade, in 1967, Walls changed tack and netted a very lucrative tie-in deal indeed. For there was a new figure in the world of SF, an eccentric fellow who travelled in a blue box...

The timing of this Sky Ray tie-in is very interesting, for it comes at the beginning of the Second Doctor era, just as Patrick Troughton was taking over the reins from William Hartnell. Now aside from the excitement this first regeneration brought, the show itself was changing direction too. Hartnell's Doctor had met many strange creatures and interplanetary folk, but he had also journeyed into the past, encountering famous figures, and providing some educational history in a dramatic guise. However in the Troughton era, this sort of story - dubbed  "historicals" by fans - was to disappear. And in its place came more monsters and alien invaders, and the show pioneered what we now refer to as "the base under siege" story line. Of course, the most famous of the show's monsters were the Daleks, and it's no coincidence that the first season of the Second Doctor's adventures featured not one but two Dalek stories, Power of the Daleks  at the beginning, and Evil of the Daleks at the end.

We should also note that in licensing terms the Daleks were very much their own brand. Their copyright belonged to their creator, Terry Nation, who had quickly spotted the market for merchandise. Hence by the time the Sky  Ray promotion came around there were already Dalek branded toys, badges and books, produced separate from any Doctor Who paraphernalia. Hence this Sky Ray promotion was effectively a double tie-in! 

But what of the promotion itself? Well as you can see from the full page, full colour advert reproduced above that appeared in comics such as in the legendary Eagle, this was a two part deal. Firstly each lolly came with a full colour painted card, and secondly by collecting wrappers you could send off for Doctor Who's Space Adventure Book. And in this tome, there were puzzles, Dalek facts, a board game, and of course, pages where you could stick in all the cards and read the story behind the pictures! All of which added up to a double bonus for Dalek fans and lots of repeat sales for Walls as kids collected the cards and wrappers. And thanks to the magic of the interwebs, you can see the full set of cards mounted in a book here

As you can see, the actual Sky Ray lollies themselves turned up in the tale as the vehicles of the Special Duty Space Commandos! A very nice touch! Yes, the Daleks apparently did once have to fight a bunch of interstellar ice lollies! And you thought the Movellans were rubbish enemies!

However it has to be said, the Doctor doesn't exactly closely resemble Patrick Troughton. Some have wondered whether the art was originally done when Hartnell was still the Doctor and hastily (and not very convincingly) altered at the last minute. Of course also by this time, there had been two big screen Dalek movies, starring Peter Cushing as the Doctor, so possibly the somewhat odd looking Doctor is a three-way hedged bet - sort of like a Fly style transporter pod accident involving Hartnell, Troughton and the Cush! 

The campaign was also promoted heavily on the TV, and you can see the original ad here -

And yes, that's not dear old Pat Troughton either! The chap doing his best to hide from the camera is a fellow called Gerry Grant apparently - who surely must take the prize for the most obscure and briefest performance as the Doctor ever!

However this wasn't to be the only time that the Daleks invaded the nation's chiller cabinets... Next time, we'll voyage into the 1970s, to a time when a trip to the corner shop could bring you face to face with a Dalek death ray!

The 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat #09 - Out of this World

Hello again dear friends, and welcome once again to the 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat! Now then last time our rooting about through the cobwebbed crates in here was inspired by my recollection of an ad in an ancient copy of Fangoria. Now while leafing through my boxes of old Fangos looking for the ad in question to scan, I chanced upon another little advertisement which prompted a whole new search through the dusty depths ofs the 'Orrible Old 'Ouse. 

As I've remarked before, and undoubtedly will remark again frequently in these articles, the pre-internet world now looks like a very strange place. For it was a place where if you missed a movie or a TV show, it was pretty gone forever. Now it is true that the dawning of the age of home video and cable TV did bring us endless repeats and boxed sets of video cassettes, but obviously these were just primitive, crude ancestors of the on-demand playground we now have, the all you can eat digital sweetshop that never closes. However for many decades, before VCRs and cable/satellite telly, there was another medium in which films and TV shows lived on, a strange netherworld where old favourites could be re-lived, well in part anyway. Welcome to the strange world of the tie-in record! Now to begin with there were releases of favourite theme tunes and soundtracks, and then assorted ill-judged stabs at the pop charts and tie-in novelty records. Sometimes you could even a purely audio version of a movie or show, admittedly often edited down and with inserted narration to make sense on non dialogue bits. And with the record industry enjoying its golden age in the 60s and 70s, it's not surprising that many broadcasters decided to cut out the middle man and began setting up their own record labels. 

Hence in 1967 the BBC began releasing all manner of assorted tie-in records as BBC Radio Enterprises. As the name suggests, in the early days it was drawing heavily on its extensive radio back catalog, with one of the earliest releases being a Goon Show LP.  The venture was great success, and by 1970 it had become the catchier sounding BBC Records, and the label would morphed once again in 1974 into BBC Records & Tapes when the new-fangled audio cassette took off. However aside from repackaging old shows in vinyl and cassette and releasing themes and music, something very odd happened. 

It was noted that the Beeb kept on getting requests from drama groups and amateur film-makers for sound effects. And well they might, for the BBC was famous for having its own dedicated sound division, the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, which had been founded in 1958 to conjuring up music, jingles and sound effects galore. Now often apparently the boffins at the Workshop would quite obligingly dash off a tape of the requested sound effects and mail it out, but then some bright spark had the idea of releasing whole LPs of sound effects, cutting out a lot of faffing around and making a few quid in the process!

And hence in 1969, the LP BBC Sound Effects No 1 was unleashed upon an unsuspecting world. Now evidently the platter sold well, despite having a somewhat specialised market, as further volumes soon hit the records stores. Now the early volumes were simply assortments of useful sound effects, but as the series progressed they began to specialise, with Volume 10 being titled Music and Sounds for Home Movies. And judging from the track-listing, the home movies in question weren't the sort you mucky sods are looking up online these days. With tracks entitled "The Aegean", "Spain" and "Effects (French cafe)" I'm guessing this LP was intended for use with cine films of people's holidays. Although I grant you that "Effects (Dutch Carnival With Chair Dance)" does sound like an euphemism, and "Cup Bells, Vase Drum" could be a misprint... But moving on! 

And the themed approach continued with the next release, for Volume 11 was entitled Off Beat Sounds - and from the collection of splashes, creaks, squeaks, and doooinnnnnnng! noises, I'm guessing this was designed for amateur comic capers... Although if you were to argue that most home-filmed smut would benefit from a swannee whistle or two, I wouldn't disagree... But the discussion of the acoustic choices in what they used to call "stag reels" aside, it's was with the release of the next volume that things got really exciting!  

For Volume 12 was called.... deep breath... BBC Sound Effects Vol. 12 Out of This World, Atmospheric Sounds and Effects from the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. Yes, hitting the record stores in 1976, and if I remember rightly often plugged by the voiceover bloke after the final credits for Doctor Who or Blakes 7 had rolled, now you could enjoy a trip to a "Sea of Mercury" or a "Venusian Space Lab" from comfort of your own Parker Knoll. However it wasn't all just "Laser Gun, Five Bursts" and  "Flying Saucer Take-off", for this double LP was was composed of four themed sections, each taking up a  separate side of vinyl. We began our audio odyssey with "Outer Space", and flipped the platter for "Magic and Fantasy". While on the second record we had "Suspense and the Supernatural" and "The Elements". The full tracklist can be found here and you can sample the auditory delights on this video just below!

Now the BBC Sound Effects series would return to the interstellar audio realms once again later on, with 1978's Vol. 19 being Dr Who Sound Effects (see here for details), and again in 1981 with Vol. 26 Sci-Fi Sound Effects (details here). However undoubtedly this first excursion into fantastical radiophonic ambience is still the classic. Firstly because the credited artists are the stuff of TV legend. And if you watch a lot of classic BBC shows, and not just their SF offerings by the way, names like Dick Mills and Roger Limb you'll recognise from countless credit sequences. However the second reason why it is so great is that is because it actually works rather well as a complete soundscape in itself, for as well as spacey sound effects there were little soundscapes of what we would now call ambient music or electronica. Indeed the likes of Radiophonic Workshop alumni such as Delia Derbyshire and Brian Hodgson are now recognised as pioneers of electronic music making. And certainly plenty of musicians listened very closely to this LP, and it should be perhaps no surprise then that the sounds of this double album have been sampled countless times over the years.

In this regard, BBC Sound Effects Vol. 12 Out of This World, Atmospheric Sounds and Effects from the BBC Radiophonic Workshop is a truly classic record in its own right. This was an LP that was snapped up by kids obsessed with spaceships, robots and monsters, kids who later would be messing about with samplers and sequences and inventing musical genres like acid house, techno, trance and ambient. Given its landmark status and influence, it's only right and proper that the album was re-released on CD in 1991 as Essential Science Fiction Sound Effects Vol. 2. and was re-released on vinyl LP in 2012 by AudioGo and Discovery Records. 

However this wasn't the only legendary sound effect LP produced by the BBC, for the next volume in the series would prove to be highly memorable to genre fans of a certain age, although perhaps for very different reasons...

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Strolling Stones

The Cheesewring at Bodmin Moor

Over the past few weeks we have been exploring some legends surrounding certain standing stones that claim that these ancient pieces of rock actually revolve, at particular times of the day or year, of their own accord. A famous example is the Cheesewring in Devon (pictured above), an iconic array of stones, often thought to be an ancient structure but was actually formed by wind and weather erosion. It has a typical folkloric origin tale, in this case it is said that the Cheesewring is the result of rock throwing contest between a local giant Uther and Saint Tue. But also according to legend, the topmost stone revolves at dawn when it hears a cockcrow. In this case, we should perhaps note that in addition to the miraculous ability to rotate itself, as it is located in the wilds of Bodmin Moor, the Cheesewring must also possess preternatural auditory senses too as the nearest farms where a cockerel might be lie many miles away! 

Last week I outlined a theory that these tales of self-turning stones perhaps originated in the 18th century, thanks to a highly influential book recording how on the Isle of Barry, an alleged survival of Druid rituals was the custom of walking around a local standing stone. And the idea that standing stones were linked to Druids and people would "take a religious turn" around them seeped into the folklore of many megaliths, and became corrupted into tall tales that the stones themselves did the turning. And as we have discovered in recent weeks, the alleged ability of stones to revolve or rotate frequently appears to be a generic attribute added to more elaborate and individual folklore stories about them.

However I suspect this generic attribute of turning themselves at cockcrow or certain days of the year, while sounding rather bizarre to modern ears, easily took root in folklore due to the presence of an earlier related story tradition. For while revolving now and again might sound very odd to us, it is in fact the very least of the magical powers of mobility that ancient standing stones were reputed to possess. To begin with we have numerous legends and old tales of stones that walk. For example, in Gloucestershire, near the ancient market town of Minchinhampton, is a menhir called the Long Stone, which does considerably more than revolve!

"When the Longstone hears the clock strike twelve, it runs round the field," as almost every child in the place will tell you. 

from Cotswold Place-Lore and Customs by J. B. Partridge, in Folklore, Vol. 23, No. 3. (Sep., 1912)

Furthermore, not far away is another megalith, one that is thought to be the remnant of a long barrow. And this standing stone is keen on a bit of exercise as well, as Mr Patridge goes on to relate -

In Avening parish, about half a mile south of the Longstone, is "Tinglestone," a menhir crowning a long barrow; Mr. Frost of Avening tells me that it too* "runs round the field when it hears the clock strike twelve."

Skipping a little further north, we have the famous monuments at Avebury, which comprise of three stone circles and an ancient henge. To the north of the village lies one of the larger megaliths in the complex, a diamond shaped sarsen known as the Swindon Stone. However despite weighing in at an impressive 65 tonnes, the Swindon Stone likes to get out and about too, with local legends asserting that it is apt to go for a wander, and crosses the nearby road at midnight.

The Swindon Stone at Avebury

Now of course it would be easy to dismiss such legends as idle fancy, however we do have more detailed reports of the secret strolls taken by standing stones. Consider the following tale concerning the Wimblestone, located near Shipham, related in the book Somerset Folklore (1965) by Ruth L Tongue - 

Zebedee Fry were coming home late from the hay-making above Shipham. It were full moon, for they'd worked late to finish, and the crop was late being a hill field, so he had forgot what night 'twas. He thought he saw something big and dark moving in the field where the big stone stood, but he was too bone-weary to go chasing any stray bullock. Then something huge and dark in field came rustling all alongside lane hedge, and Zebedee he up and dive into the brimmles in the ditch till it passed right along, and then he ran all a-tiptoe to reach Shipham. When he come to the field gate he duck two-double and he rush past it. But, for all that, he see this gurt stone, twelve feet and more, a-dancing to itself in the moonlight over top end of field. And where it always stood the moon were shining on a heap of gold money. But Zebedee he didn't stop for all that, not until he were safe at the inn at Shipham. They called he all sorts of fool for not getting his hand to the treasure - but nobody seemed anxious to have a try - not after he'd told them how nimble it danced round field. And nobody knows if 'twill dance again in a hundred years. Not till there's a full moon on Midsummer Night.

It is interesting to note that "wimble" is thought to be derived from an old word meaning 'lively' or 'giddy'. And indeed there are other tales of folks falling foul of the Wimblestone, with one story alleging it attacked a farmer who struck it with a stick, and chased him across the countryside until he took refuge in a nearby church!

The Wimblestone, seen here behaving itself for a change

As a side note, it would seem that tales about the marauding Wimblestone inspired one of the stranger monsters ever seen in Doctor Who. In October 1978, an adventure for the Fourth Doctor (played Tom Baker) began entitled The Stones of Blood. Now as well featuring Druidic rites, megaliths, and Celtic goddesses, we were introduced to some alien monsters called the Ogri. These space criminals had been hiding out on Earth, and as they were a silicon based life form, they disguised had themselves as menhirs! The practical upshot of which was we had standing stones moving around at night in search of blood to drink!

But to return to the realm of folklore, thankfully though, it would appear that most stones that like a stroll aren't as aggressive as the Wimblestone. However it would seem that such stories of walking stones are in fact very ancient indeed. Around 828 AD, a Welsh monk named Nennius wrote an epic work entitled Historia Brittonum which recounted the history of the British Isles and its peoples. Much of the material in the volume was fanciful to say the least and owed more to legend than actual historical fact. And while it is of limited value to historians, it is a treasure trove of folklore. For example, Nennius makes a very interesting reference to a tale about an ancient standing stone found in Wales -

The third is a stone which moves at night in Glenn Cindenn, and though it should be cast into the sea, or into a cataract, it would be found on the margin of the same valley.

It is also worth noting that it is thought that Nennius didn't actually pen all (or according to some scholars, any) of Historia Brittonum, and that the text was assembled from even earlier anonymous sources. The mention of the stone returning to its site if ever moved is also a common feature in moving stone lore, alongside stories of the stones resisting and foiling any attempt to move them. For example, our bad boy rockstar, the Wimblestone is alleged to have rolled over and crushed a chap who tried to pull it up with oxen. So then, it would seem we can trace stories of strolling stones back at least to the 7th century. Little wonder then that the apparently more recent additions to folklore involving stones rotating took root so quickly. And as we shall we next week, ancient stones often did more incredible things than just taking an occasional hike...

Doctor Who and the Stones of Blood

The 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat #05 - Who Nose?

Welcome once again dear friends to the creaky old pile of half-forgotten ephemera that is the 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat! This week we are, I promise, concluding our look back at the first very range of Doctor Who action figures - or dolls as they were called back then - produced by UK toy masters, Denys Fisher in the late 1970s. And in this final installment we are looking at the nine inch plastic versions of the Doctor's most famous enemies. 

Now the first proper monster to ever appear in the show would also become the most famous - I refer of course to those genocidal pepperpots, the Daleks. These armoured horrors from Skaro first appeared back in December 1963 in the second ever Doctor Who serial, variously known as 'The Mutants', 'The Dead Planet', or simply 'The Daleks', for back then Doctor Who adventures only had production codes rather than definite titles for the story arcs, and hence strictly speaking the story is called Serial B. Anywho, these metal monsters were an instant hit, indeed so much so that the Daleks got their own spin-off toys years before there was ever a Doctor figure, with the first miniature Daleks hitting the toy shops in 1965 in a whole variety of shapes and sizes from different manufacturers. 

Now then, gingerly stepping over the tatological* tarpit that is the various breeds of toy Dalek invading the toy shelves in the mid '60s - for they were legion (see here) - all we really need to note right now is that none of them were actually what we would now call 'screen accurate'. In fairness, they were all recognisable as Daleks, and were never in any danger of being mistaken for Gareth Hunt, but they tended to sport somewhat off-piste proportions and colour schemes. Up until Denys Fisher came on the scene, the best toy dalek you could buy was one produced by another UK toy firm, Palitoy in 1975 - a battery operated talking Dalek whose only real flaw was that it was slightly on the chubby side. Hence there was still room from improvement, and indeed the Denys Fisher Dalek from 1977 was widely hailed as the most accurate toy Dalek to date. 

However that said, I always thought the Denys Fisher Dalek looked a little on the small and undernourished side. To my childish eye, it looked like a Dalek that hadn't been eating its greens, and I much prefered the chunkier Palitoy one, even if it did look like it had eaten all the pies. But as the Denys Fisher Daleks are still much sought after by collectors, and are currently going for around £500, so I'm probably in the minority there. However while we could argue all day over which of these '70s toys is the more accurate version of their screen counterparts, there is an interesting tale surrounding the colour scheme of the Denys Fisher incarnation. As you can see from the pictures, this particular Dalek has a silver body and a striking red head piece, giving it something of a sporty look. And while that colour scheme might seem a little unusual, it was familiar to 1970s kids for identical Daleks had appeared in a set of cardboard figures given away by Weetabix (a tale for another day), and in Doctor Who comic strips found in British weekly comic Countdown**.

A Weetabix Dalek card and a panel from Sub Zero published Countdown comic in 1972

However the curious thing is, despite the Skaronine terrors adopting various liveries over the years, there had never actually been a silver and scarlet model on screen, neither in the TV show, or even in the two movies starring Peter Cushing as the Doctor produced in the 1960s. However interestingly, the origin of this rogue pepperpot is tied to the creator of the Daleks themselves -no, not Davros, but writer Terry Nation. Now Nation has invented the Daleks in his script for The Mutants/Dead Planet/Serial B and had cannily retained the rights - which was why they were so heavily merchandised in the 1960s. Nation even ended up with a flotilla of Daleks of his very own, after acquiring some of the movie props, which would go out on promotional tours. In an article on the Daleks in the Radio Times special issued for the 10th anniversary of the show, old Terry was pictured at his home with his own honour guard of Skaro's finest patrolling his drive!

Terry Nation and his Skaro posse

And look, there's the Scarlet Top! So where did he come from? An unrealised outing for the Daleks perhaps? For there were a few of those down the years, most famously Nation planned to bring them into his other SF TV series Blake's 7 and tried to get a solo Dalek show on US TV.  Actually the truth is more prosaic - over the years the various Dalek props own by Nation got a bit battered during their days on the road. Sadly rumours of them smashing up hotel rooms and hanging out with Keith Moon have just been made up by me. Anyhow, due to assorted Daleks getting damaged in transit, those deemed to tatty to show to the public ended up as spare parts, and eventually lead to the creation of Scarlet Top, essentially a Skaro Frankenstein made of bit of ex-Daleks*** (more details available here). However, it would seem that reference materials provided by the Beeb for Denys Fisher featured lots of snaps from the Radio Times photo shoot, and likewise Weetabix and Countdown artist Gerry Haylock got the same press pack to work from too. And hence the Scarlet Top came into the Dalek canon...

The 10th Anniversary Doctor Who special from Radio Times 

Now then, to move on to the other arch nemesis manufactured by Denys Fisher, their nine inch Cyberman shares a similar heritage. As detailed here, their terror from Telos was clearly modelled on the Cyberman seen menacing the Third Doctor on the cover of 10th Anniversary Radio Times special - it's the silver wellies that are the give away apparently! However, it is fair to say that the resulting Cyber-doll wasn't as quite as screen accurate as their Dalek. The decision to go with fabric for the Cybersuit makes it look like it's wearing pajamas, and the pipes and chest pieces look a bit too chunky and cumbersome. Indeed the chest unit, which serves as the Cyberman's lungs by the way, often slipped down so much, it would end up being worn like a bum-bag by many Denys Fisher Cybermen.  Obviously, much of this comes down to a matter of scale - there's lots of fiddly bits on Cybermen that were hard to do well at nine inches. But none of that explains why this Cyberman is a true rogue. Look closely here...

Yes, this Cyberman has a nose! And, as far as I can tell, nobody nose why! Boom! Boom! ...Oh alright, please yourselves! But leaving the bad puns aside, the only thing I can come up with is perhaps the designers at Denys Fisher were short of pictures of Cybermen, and possibly were consulting a range of photos of assorted old Cybermen. Now over the years, the Cybermen have changed quite a lot, in in their first appearance had gauze face masks rather than steel headpieces, and hence you can see a bump where their noses were. And looking at the general features of the Denys Fisher Cyberman, it could well a result of a harassed designer attempting to synthesis the four different models of Cybermen pictured in that fabled Radio Times Special. Quite possibly while screaming "what the hell are these silver bastard things supposed to look like ?!?".  Well, that's my theory and I'm sticking to it!

A Tenth Planet Cyberman

So then dear friends, that brings us the end of this trawl through Doctor Who toys from the 1970s. However, never fear, the 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat as many. many more dubious treasure to share with you! 

*  - Yes, I did just make that word up
** - A story in which Scarlet Top appears, Sub Zero, was reprinted last month by Doctor Who Monthly as a free gift with Issue 508
*** - All together now "They have ceased to be!"

The 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat #04 - K1 OK!

Welcome once again dear friends to the 'Orrible 'Ouse of Terrible Old Tat! And this week, we are continuing our root through the very first range of actions for Doctor Who, made way back in the late '70s by Denys Fisher in the UK. Now obviously this included nine inch high versions of the current Doctor (incarnation #4 Tom Baker) and his companions: at this time Leela played by Louise Jameson, and K9 played by ... erm... an increasingly unreliable prop. Of these latter entries in the range there is little of note to say, other than that the Leela doll tended to have extremely mad frizzy hair, and the miniature K9 proved to be somewhat sturdier that his full size TV counterpart, handling out of studio work i.e. adventures in the back garden, far better. 

However Doctor Who has always been a show not just about the adventures of its hero but also about monsters, and quite rightly Denys Fisher did not skimp on a range of villains. Now there were only three different enemies available to do battle with the nine inch Baker, however thankfully Denys Fisher had licensed two of the big boys, but more on them next week. The other villain in the range was the Giant Robot. Now this always struck me as something of an odd choice as this metallic chap only ever appeared in one Doctor Who story, "Robot" which aired in late 1974/early 1975. And while this had been the debut outing for Baker's Doctor, in 1977 he was somewhat old news when the Denys Fisher figures hit the shelves. 

So why did Denys Fisher chose this particular foe? Well, first up we have to note that the design is brilliant, none of your couple of boxes stacked up with waldo arms and some old TV aerials here! This mechanical maniac was actually designed by a fellow named James Acheson, who would go on to win three Academy Awards for Costume Design, for his work on The Last Emperor, Dangerous Liaisons and Restoration. Quite a pedigree, I'm sure you'll agree. And the toy version was pretty decent too - admittedly the some of the proportions aren't 100% exact, but all the same, this is one handsome toy android! But other than looking like some visitant from a robotic art deco future, perhaps a clue to why he was chosen is hidden in his name. Now the original TV serial was just called "Robot", and in the story itself our metal friend actually had a proper name - K1. But the Denys Fisher version hit the toy shops under the name 'Giant Robot'. 

And there is a good reason for this. Back in the 1970s, while there were some home video recorders knocking about, they were rare and extremely expensive beasts. At that stage, we were still a good few years away from the dawn of  the VCR age. Also we should note too, that unlike today, repeats were not a common feature of the TV schedules - back then channels repeating old shows were roundly criticised. But there was another way for Doctor Who fans to revisit old adventures, and that was in book form. Beginning in 1973 with reprints of novelisations by David Whittaker of three First Doctor adventures which had originally been published in hardback in the mid 1960s, Target Books would go on to produce novelisations of nearly all the Doctor's televised adventures, and become a hugely successful publishing imprint in the process.  

After reprinting the trio of Hartnell tales, the range had focused on the adventures of the then current incarnation, 3rd Doctor John Pertwee. And when he regenerated into the 4th Doctor, Target Books were not far behind, with Terrance Dicks novelising his own script, and a book version of Tom Baker's debut adventure hitting the shelves just two months after the serial aired. Now generally the Target Books had the same titles as the TV stories. However in the early days of the range, sometimes they were tweaked, most often to fit the series title format of "Doctor Who and the Such-and-Such of Whatever". However in the first few years, some titles got a bit more of spin, presumably to make them sound more attractive to readers. Hence the novel of the 3rd Doctor's debut story "Spearhead from Space" became "Doctor Who and the Auton Invasion", while his second outing "The Silurians" became "Doctor Who and the Cave-Monsters" which presumably was thought to be catchier sounding. 

Hence when the novelisation of the adventure that included K1 was released, the story that on TV was simply named "Robot" became Doctor Who and the Giant Robot. And that wasn't merely hyping the main threat of the tale either, for in that adventure, the climax saw K1 growing to King Kong size. Now Denys Fisher chose to christen the toy incarnation as "Giant Robot" too, rather than go with K1, and that was an interesting choice at the time. For thanks to Star Wars, robot names composed a combination of letters and numbers were about to become de rigour for SF automata, and hence going with K1 would be more zeitgeisty. Not that the wholesome chaps at Denys Fisher would have ever used a ghastly marketing term like "zeitgeisty" back then. I'm regretting doing it now to be honest. But I digress...

...Anyhow, my theory is Denys Fisher went with "Giant Robot", because as thanks to the Target Book, this was now the more familiar name for the nation's kids. I also suspect the sales figures of said Target novel might also have had something to do with their decision. Looking at the Target Books publication schedule, in 1975 and 1976 there were only four other novels released featuring the Fourth Doctor, two of which featured enemies the range were bound to cover anyway: Doctor Who and the Revenge of the Cybermen (published 20th May 1976) and Doctor Who and the Genesis of the Daleks (published 22nd June 1976). The other two titles Doctor Who and the Loch Ness Monster (a novelisation of Terror of the Zygons, published 15th January 1976) and Doctor Who and Pyramids of Mars (published 16th December 1976) offered alternative iconic monsters, but my suspicion is that given Doctor Who and the Giant Robot has been on the shelves longer, K1 looked the better known and more popular enemy for the range. 

Next time, we'll be taking a look at how Denys Fisher recreated two of the show's most famous villains for their nine inch range... 

The original K1 enjoying a polish up for a recent exhibition