Review: Doctor Who Classic: The Happiness Patrol

Warning: This review may get a bit political. Happiness will prevail.

Doctor Who - Season 25, Story Two - The Happiness Patrol
Written between 17th and 18th June 2012

Some claim that during the Eighties, Doctor Who became much more politcal than, as a family teatime show, it really should have been. This is epitomised by today's story, The Happiness Patrol - a tale of a dictatorial regime, where the Doctor must step in and release everyone from the hands of oppression. It could have been awfully dry, but the addition of just a few ounces of absurdism makes The Happiness Patrol into a complete and total classic. It's scary, disturbing, funny, melancholy, and exciting. For the first time in a while, I was genuinely on the edge of my seat, and that says a lot more for me than I can put in words.

The series actually got a copyright claim from Bassetts,
claiming that the Kandyman was too similar in design
to their company mascot. It's still awesome.

      The Doctor and Ace arrive on the Earth colony Terra Alpha, a world that has come under the autocratic control of Helen A, a frighteningly dotty old woman who insists that everyone must be happy and conform to her vision of happiness. Those who do not are executed; or, worse, subjected to the torturous delights of the dreaded Kandyman. Helping some of the Happiness Patrol to work up the courage to fight against the regime, the Doctor manages to combine the world's forces to bring down Helen A's regime and free the peoples of Terra Alpha.
     Even for someone who was born in the late nineties, the politcal analogue is blaringly obvious. Helen A (played here by the wonderful Sheila Hancock) is a symbol of conformity, who is dependant upon her pet dog Fifi and upon henpecking her timid husband. She's a toned down version of Conservative Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, who was in power between 1979 and 1990, for better or worse. The character here is a scathing satire of the naive nature of her policies and the way she hid her iron will behind a pleasant exterior. I was shocked to find out that the comparison had been toned down; apparently, as Sylvester McCoy put it in 2010, "Our feeling was that Margaret Thatcher was far more terrifying than any monster the Doctor had encountered." Personally, I love it - it's strong, gets the point across and is damn hilarious in doing it. Funnily enough, the character was going to have been by veteran actress and singer Patricia Routlege. I do fear that it would have put me off Keeping Up Apperances forever.
      Slightly less effective is the Kandyman, but he still manages to be incredibly scary. I do find the idea far fetched - I just don't see the occasion for someone to create a robot composed entirely out of sucrose who then tortures people using sweets. It is, however, a great idea to scare the kids, and that's what's important. I especially love his monologue towards the Doctor at the beginning of the second episode - "You see, I make sweets. Not just any old sweets, but sweets that are so good, so delicious, that sometimes, if I'm on form, the human physiology is not equipped to bear the pleasure." If anyone can scare the kids, the Kandyman can.

Sheila Hancock is great as Thatcher send-up Helen A.

     Sometimes the aburdity enforced by the story's premise oversteps the boundaries somewhat. The first appearance of the Happiness Patrol, in their frilly pink uniforms and dye-pink hairdos, was an absolute spectacle that didn't embue them with any sense of forboding at all. Luckily, the script worked well enough to do so over the course of the story, and by the beginning of the regime's downfall they're almost terrifying in their fanatical devotion to our lady leader. The Kandyman's repeated defeats by the Doctor, amounting to being stuck to the floor with lemonade, feel quite farcical and only highlight the implausability of his creation; is this creature, who works in a laboratory, really never exposed to substances that might react aversely to his sucrose-based makeup? Not even the lemonade, which was found in HIS kitchen?
     In short, The Happiness Patrol's absurdity is what makes it such a powerful piece. It's satirical and that not only gives it charm, but it also improves what is a concept so tired we only saw it a few stories ago. The premise and the way it works into the contemporary political scene - that's pure genius, and one of the reasons that The Happiness Patrol is one of the best McCoys I've seen so far.

Happiness Will Prevail!
Thanks.