Quatermass

QUATERMASS

Anyone who wanted to bring back Professor Quatermass for another adventure faced a formidable challenge. Not only would they be following a trio of unquestionably groundbreaking TV serials but they would have to overcome the thick wall of viewers' nostalgic memories of being chilled by those flickering monochrome pictures. Quatermass was an unusual series in many ways compared to its predecessors.
To begin with the whole television industry had totally changed in the twenty years between this new saga and Quatermass and the Pit; not only the technology but the philosophy. Whereas Rudolph Cartier had ingeniously created a cinema like atmosphere for what was essentially a studio-bound production, Quatermass was to be made on film and mostly on location from the outset. As a result the series has a much more naturalistic feel to it in comparison with the moodily-lit, slightly stylised imagery of the fifties' adventures. Taboos about what could be said and shown in TV serials had loosened as well, allowing a grittier approach to the script. Not surprisingly the writer Nigel Kneale plays on the fact that the Professor is an something of an anachronism at the start of the story. That this is one of the few glossy SF mini-series and a British production at that also adds to its interest. But at the foundation of Quatermass is another fine Kneale script with all the qualities that made the earlier stories so memorable. Imaginative ideas, believable characters, literate dialogue and a fistful of great images. It carries on the programme's themes about humanity being taken over by a powerful alien influence, as well as warning about our technology running out of control. This time however the danger is not identified with a specific scientific endeavour such as spaceflight, this time the threat comes from our complete reliance on energy-hungry everyday machinery. When that is largely taken away from people, they begin to realise how fragile their society is. Yet ironically it is the appliance of technology that ultimately saves the day. Kneale is not anti-science but he wants it to be used responsibly. The Professor once again becomes the voice of reason, the decent face of science in a topsy-turvy world. Although reaction to the series at its premiere was muted, time has been kind to the Professor's final adventure and the series is now compared favourably to its predecessors by many SF fans.

"They call it Urban Collapse, so it's nobody's fault."

Initially the desire for a fourth Quatermass adventure came from Hammer Films in 1969. Having enjoyed great success with their adaptation of Quatermass and the Pit, both in the UK and the all-important US market, the studio proposed Quatermass IV. Their idea was to make a television mini-series in cooperation with the BBC. Kneale had frequently castigated Hammer over its "vulgarisation" of his first two scripts but the studio had redeemed itself in Kneale's eyes because of the care they had taken with the third movie, However the production fell through. But obviously the seeds had been planted since in 1972 the BBC approached Kneale with an offer to make a new story. Still called Quatermass IV at this point, the storyline had the basic theme of social collapse and featured scenes at Stonehenge but it was deliberately much more studio bound and a lot closer in style to the fifties serials. The BBC were sufficiently interested to assign a producer and green light some special effects test footage overseen by Bernard Wilkie and Ian Scoones. These were the scenes of the US/Russian space-station which is destroyed in the first episode. Existing photographs show a quite different design to the one which finally appeared, one which resembled the US Skylab. But ultimately the BBC decided the proposed budget was too great and the script languished for a few years.
Then in 1977 Star Wars exploded into the cinemas and everyone in film and TV wanted to jump aboard the SF express. While the BBC launched Blake's 7, Thames Television commissioned Euston Films to realise Kneale's unused script. Eventually they decided to make it in two versions, a four hour mini-series and a two hour film. (The final cut was actually 105 minutes.) It was an approach which Kneale was unhappy about because he feared that one or both formats would be compromised, either the mini-series would be extremely padded or the film would be incoherent. Using his undoubted skills as a storyteller, he carefully plotted a story containing 'junctions'. At these points, the TV version would embark on the metaphorical scenic route while the film version would take the direct road to the next important piece of the story. The skill lay in making the scenery valid to the story and not just obvious padding. Generally the result is a great success and it is rare that the viewer can unequivocally recognise a pure TV sequence without prior knowledge. As a final touch, Kneale decided to finish the Professor with a heroic death believing that he had taken the character and the format as far he could without repetition.

"I think you and I imagine different things."

At the opening of the story a narrator, later identified as Dr Gurov, explains that civilisation has descended into anarchy. Amongst the madness and official hypocrisy, Professor Quatermass is searching for his granddaughter Hettie. Befriended by an astronomer, Joe Kapp, he is alarmed to discover that a beam of light from space is striking the planet; each time removing a crowd of young people who had gathered at its target. The Planet People, bands of hippies, believe that the light is taking them to a new world but the Professor suspects a more alien purpose is at work. While the Professor goes to London and is forced to take refuge with a group of elderly scavengers, the beam strikes Kapp's homestead, destroying his family. Slowly the Professor pieces together a theory that the light is an alien space probe, harvesting mankind as it previously had in the dark ages. Why, is impossible to guess but the machine might be 'scared away' by luring the light beam into a nuclear primed trap. But as he and a haunted Kapp await the moment to manually trigger the bomb, a group of hostile Planet People arrive and nearly succeed in sabotaging their plan. But the timely intervention of Hettie, who is now amongst these Planet People, enables the Professor to defeat the alien probe but at the cost of their lives.

"Grand old space boffin. The original British Rocket Group, practically built it with his own hands."

In a very deliberate move the first appearance of the Professor paints him as victim, a bewildered, vulnerable old man which is quite a shock compared to the viewer's memory of him as the bold, world-saving scientist of old. One of Quatermass's major sub-plots is the Professor's gradual regaining of his zest and abilities. As he explains at beginning he had abandoned the Rocket Group years ago; probably in protest at its increasing takeover by the government and especially the military as indicated in Quatermass and the Pit. Since then he has been living quietly in a cottage in Scotland, far away from the urban collapse. Unfortunately when his grand-daughter runs away, the realities of modern life are abruptly brought home him and at first he is reeling from the despairing sights and sounds of a country sliding into anarchy. But once the alien mystery begins he is on familiar territory. More than that, he is needed by other people for the first time in years and this brings out the fighter in him. This time however he must fight without the backup of an organisation behind him for most of the story, throwing himself much more on his own resources and those of his friends. He had faced a similar isolation problem in the previous stories but the wholesale collapse of the system emphasises this sub-plot sharply. Age has certainly mellowed the Professor's character, he is much more sensitive to people, particularly Kapp's family. Trying to care for his granddaughter and his years in recluse seemed to have reminded him that like so many dedicated men, he has neglected his own family. He related to his daughter best when she was part of his Rocket Group. It is unusual to see him sharing a meal at their farm house and talking with children because in other stories he has always existed in political/scientific circles, talking to men of a similar background to himself. Interestingly he insists that Joe Kapp leaves his investigations to look after his family because he clearly sees the younger scientist making the same mistake he had made in his enthusiasm. John Mills is excellent as the Professor, making the character a solid core of decency and intelligence within the series. Although he had not seen any of the earlier BBC series before taking the part, his portrayal is reminiscent of Andre Morell's character, a likeable, socially aware, responsible scientist. Asked what had attracted him to the role, Mills replied, "The role was offered to me, I liked it and I liked the scripts so, as they also agreed to pay me something, I accepted!" Another inducement had been that his wife had also read the scripts and she urged him to take the job.

"I want a generation gap between me and them! I hate them because they've given up."

Joseph Kapp is an ideal ally for the Professor. Not only is he a gifted scientist in his own field but he has the street knowledge which the older man lacks. The driving force behind a radio telescope project, he is something of a younger version of the Professor. That his operation is still funded and provided with fuel suggests he must be an accomplished hustler and at the start of story he is content to play the part of a cheerful TV expert and "sing for his supper". Despite his lapsed Judaism and rationality he is very aware of his roots, proud that he comes from a line of hard working ancestors. It is this mixture of both personality aspects which drives his contempt of the Planet People and their beliefs. Undoubtedly he is brave and resourceful but his big character flaw is his stubbornness and tunnel vision. When he is engrossed by his scientific work he neglects his family and it is his realisation of this, added to the fact that he was not with them when their home is obliterated by the beam which leads to his shocking breakdown. It is disturbing to see this formally steadfast man become wild-eyed and haggard. Sequences such as him talking to the ghostly voices of his children in his mind or his unnervingly calm conversation with the Professor when they meet again in part four are very emotive. Simon MacCorkindale was approached by the director Piers Haggard and was extremely impressed by Kneale's script. In particular he was fascinated by Kapp's jewish aspects and also that he was a family man since he had always been cast as the romantic lead or a determined individual in the past.

In contrast to her scientist husband, Clare Kapp is much more sympathetic to the Planet People. This is due to her personality being much more overtly compassionate. She is a good match for Joe, her humour and down to earth nature help leaven his sometimes over serious personality. In addition she is also highly intelligent and seems to share his background. There are several hints that she has latent 'sensitive' abilities though they do not develop into telepathy or telekinesis as the Martian genes did so spectacularly during Pit. When she wonders about the ancient people who built the stone circle behind her house there is a wistfulness that echoes the hippy desires of the Planet People. Later when they bring the injured young survivor of the Ringstone Round light beam back to the house she is peculiarly drawn to her. She becomes distant, withdrawn and even starts using the ley ley chant, ostensibly to soothe the girl. It is not properly explained why her character changes like this. It may be an unconscious influence by the girl or directly caused by the alien machine. Barbara Kellerman gives an engaging, sympathetic performance and Clare's death casts a pall over the remainder of the Kapp storyline.

"I keep forgetting. Just for a moment. And then I remember."

Whilst most of the Planet People are passive and herdlike, in their midst lives a striking exception, Kickalong. His introduction is excellently managed; a tall figure wading through a crowd all chanting his name with a fiery gaze in his eyes. Throughout the series he constantly takes the initiative, usually involving violent action, whether that is seizing the Professor's megaphone to lead the chanting masses, tricking and killing a frightened homeowner or goading Kapp over the fate of his family. While most of the Planet People are passive unless severely roused, Kickalong's main form of expression seems to be violence. His cold blooded shooting of Kapp is carried out almost casually. It raises the question of how much the alien influence is affecting him. Either he is totally consumed by it, creating his magnetic personality or his character was so strong and passionate it was immune to the urge to surrender himself to the beam of light. Instead he is taking advantage of the situation to form a tribe for him to rule. Certainly it is because of the force of his ego that his followers survive as long as they do. They leave Ringstone Round at the crucial moment in order to rescue him from the police van, later on they do not go to Wembley as all the other Planet People in the home counties seem to. Yet he frequently predicts that his group will travel soon and he deliberately leads them to a stone circle in the last episode so he has certainly fallen prey to the alien power in the end. He is the closest character that could be called a villain but in usual Kneale style there are no really black or white characters.
Almost inevitably Kneale brings some Cockney working class characters into the plot. This elderly community, living in a disguised underground shelter, provide a human counterpoint to the world spanning battle with the alien probe. Although it would be easy to portray them as piteous victims, Kneale takes care to stress their initiative and support for each other in the face of a crumbling society. They negotiate with the more reasonable of the gangs for food and essentials, build a secure if salubrious hideaway and later help to set the final nuclear trap. There are obvious comparisons to the Blitz. These are very ordinary people, some ill-educated, so when the Professor tries to explain the events at the stone circles they misunderstand at first, their hope for a solution clouding their understanding. All they can see is that the dreaded young have not only taken virtually everything away from them but have now gone off to their own paradise and left their elders in the mud. The moment when one old woman starts singing "The Old Rugged Cross", mistakenly tying her Christian faith with this alien visitation is moving in its hopelessness.
Amongst this impressive cast are a pair of actresses who would later move on to have far greater profiles. Sal, the young mother in Kickalong's band, was played by Toyah Wilcox prior to pop stardom while Brenda Fricker was cast as Alison, the third member of Kapp's team who ultimately joins the Planet People, all a long way from Casualty and her Oscar for My Left Foot. Other familiar faces are Brian Croucher (Travis from Blake's 7) as a paycop, Gretchen Franklin (Ethel from Eastenders) as one of the hidden old people, David Yip playing another of Kapp's friends before he became The Chinese Detective, Bruce Purchase as Kapp's best friend Roach (The Captain in Doctor Who) and Kevin Stoney (I, Claudius and Doctor Who amongst others) as the Prime Minister.
Probably the most memorable supporting character though is the frantic TV director called Johnny Ingrams (Tudor Davies), whose studio is commandeered by the army during episode three. A complete send-up of every prejudice the viewer might have about TV folk, nevertheless his camp antics bring a welcome burst of humour at just the right moment while staying in tune with Quatermass's believablity. Ingrams is responsible for one of the few popular programmes left on the BBC schedules, The Tittupy Bumpity Show, a soft-porn cabaret show. As he protests to an army captain, "You can't take it off! It's what used to be called a family show!" The whole grotesqueness of the situation, dancers in skimpy animal fancy dress miming sex while the human race is tumbling to destruction, is very well caught. A amusing moment is the embarrassed Professor smiling at the dancers, trying to reassure them but rather taken aback by the entire scene. Unfortunately this lightness of touch is lost a few minutes later when the Professor delivers the crucial line, "The human race is being harvested!" and one of the dancing girls screams and faints which is amazingly corny, diffusing the drama instantly.

"These are mad people! They believe in mad things!"

Although Quatermass's £1.5 million budget sounds impressive, more in fact than the cost of the first three put together, in television terms it was only a medium amount for this size of series. Full credit then must be given to Euston Films for making Quatermass look like a multi-million epic. One of their triumphs is Kapp's radio telescope complex with its eighteenth century observatory headquarters, stone circle and pre-fab farmhouse. Incredibly the entire site is a mock-up made from scratch. The filming ran fairly smoothly although at times it was an uncomfortable shoot for the actors because of the unpleasant settings such as the scrapyard where the old people hide out. One mishap however occurred when John Mills was poked in the eye during a fight scene and was half-blind for a week afterwards as a result.
Piers Haggard directs the action in a glossy, cinematic style and makes good use of distorted camera lenses and atmospheric lighting. As commented on earlier, Quatermass has a much more natural feel to the stylised, sometimes stark monochrome world created by Rudolph Cartier which makes the two directors hard to compare. But the Wembley Stadium sequence while very dramatic with its shadows, overlapping waves of noise and flaring bursts of gunfire, lacks the intensity and aggressiveness of earlier crowd scenes such as the workers' riot in Quatermass II. But individual moments that do remain in the mind are the young girl chanting then collapsing through a bead curtain, her eyes staring wildly and the nerve-racking climax as a wounded Professor drags himself up the observatory steps, matter blurring around him, stretching out his hand to detonate the nuclear bomb.
Marc Wilkinson and Nic Rowley's evocative synthesizer music lends an enormous amount to the visuals. It underlines the gloom of the story but then sometimes it suddenly lifts into a plaintive or delicate theme. Surprisingly the cues around the advert breaks are particularly haunting. Quatermass's opening credits were composed of a series of stills from the series rendered in red and black upon which were overlayed the titles, accompanied by an ominous electronic theme tune. At the advert breaks an artwork identical to the cover of the novelisation was used. An unusual touch was that the sky changed colour with each episode, turning from red to blue to green.
The modelwork is superb, both the space station and the space shuttle sequences are extremely realistic and polished. Optical effects such as the deadly beam appearing far way in the distance, silhouetting Ringstone Round in a blaze of light or flooding an underground car park with golden light are equally stunning.
"We tried to find explanations and all we found were excuses."

Several newspaper columnists commented on the irony of ITV launching its first night after the 75 day technicians' strike with an ex-BBC programme. Critical reaction to the series was generally lukewarm or disparaging. Ronald Hastings in The Daily Telegraph complained it was a tame beginning. "A weary plot out of Survivors via George Orwell's urban decay. The Professor seems far too unheroic and unresourceful to carry much interest, especially without any giant jelly babies." This last reference might have been an allusion to Tom Baker's Doctor Who but curiously in The Daily Express preview for the opening episode the day before, John Mills had said that the series was going to be, "Not quite the usual Quatermass. There are no...giant jelly babies or creepy crawlies!" Meanwhile over at The Times the programme was held to be, "...only a so-so affair. You only have to read the novel to realize how much his nightmarish prophesizing has been disapated with slack speed and strip cartoon dialogue." However the reviewer did concede that the show had "...two considerable assets. John Mills and music promising frightening goodies that alas, rarely materialize. Martin Jackson wondered in his Daily Mail column whether ITV was trying to warn its viewers as it portrayed the urban nightmare, "Switch us off again and this is what might happen!" He described the scenario as the "nightmare of every Man Alive, Horizon or Risk Business documentary suddenly come true." He also made the insightful comment that Kneale was more of a social commentator that SF writer. When the series came to a close four weeks later he summed it up as "not the best of Nigel Kneale but it equalled any of his earliest Quatermass stories." In The Guardian, Nancy Banks-Smith had obviously already seen the entire series as she dropped heavy hints about forthcoming events while reviewing the opening. "Mills moves from Where Will It All End? to Where Have They All Gone?" But where had that £1.5 million budget gone? "Not on the cast, the sets or the wardrobe!" she tartly remarked. However she had liked the script, "The tug and tension between youth and age is an interesting aspect to the story."

"Hit him, hit him! You'd think she'd never had a stick in her hand before!"

For the first time the programme graduated to the front cover of the TV listings, even if it had to share the cover with a collage of ITV personalities celebrating the end of the strike and the return of TV Times to the shelves. Inside, the second episode enjoyed a great deal of coverage, probably because the editor had decided to combine two week's worth of copy. In a nice piece of continuity, Nigel Kneale provided an introduction to his latest adventure, just as he had in the Radio Times of the fifties. The one page article looked back at the earlier serials, briefly summarising them and explaining that each of them was "rooted in its time". Regarding the new series he prophesized about the Great Urban Collapse which he felt was approaching and in fact his descriptions do seem very similar to the situation we now have in Bosnia. "I find science fiction too often mechanistic or facetious." It was the people, he said, that made the Quatermass stories good and that was as true now as it was back then. Accompanying his introduction was a photograph of Kapp's customised van nosing its way through a crowded street market. A few pages further, half a page was taken up with actress Barbara Kellerman moving house. In between packing boxes she commented on her latest role that, "The trouble with the future is that it always looks bleak. I'm not surprised writers seldom feel optimistic about it." Underneath a photograph of a scarred, battered Professor at Wembley stadium was a brief feature on how make-up artists achieved the look, basically by pouring a gallon of glue, chalk and powder over John Mills. "I could hardly walk," he remembers, "but I think the stiffness helped me portray a state of shock!" Finally on the programme page there was a photograph of the Professor and Kapp looking concerned at Ringstone Round. Next issue the listing page had a photograph of the Professor with a loudspeaker while the actual write-up rather oddly describes the programme as a series of self-contained stories. For "An Endangered Species" the write-up described the Professor as "...television's most celebrated boffin." Although there was no photograph this time, at the back of the TV Times was a ten page 'Star Profile' of John Mills which looked back at his distinguished career and eventful life. Amongst the many photographs was one of a dusty Professor at Wembley. For the 1984 repeat, the first part was advertised with a photograph of the Kapps while there was nothing for the second part.

"All touched with the fingers of the lightening!"

Merchandise connected with Quatermass includes Nigel Kneale's own novelisation of the script, published by Arrow. This is a well written, highly entertaining book and a lot more worthwhile than most film/TV novelisations. It has special interest because Kneale includes extra material and slightly alters the storyline. For example the relationship between the Professor and Annie Morgan, the District Comissioner who helps him return to London, is much deeper becoming physical; in fact he regains a lot of his lost confidence through their love; the Planet Girl's condition is much more graphic; her legs becoming elongated and far more crystaline. There are one or two flashback sequences to the earlier adventures and other parts are expanded, such as the pay cops being largely made up of South African mercenaries. Kneale's prose is pacy and atmospheric; making it a pity that he has not written more novels. Its cover features a portrait of Quatermass in front of a radio telescope while the back panel shows a stone circle silhouetted in blue light.
Unlike their predecessors the makers of Quatermass have been able to exploit the burgeoning home video market, so far releasing the series in three versions. The first was a rental only release of the feature length The Quatermass Conclusion, with a fairly scrappy looking blue tinted cover showing Kickalong. This was then re-released in 1985 on sell-thru as part of the Thames Video Collection with a cover depicting a stone circle illuminated by the light beam while in an insert was a photo of the Professor. Most recently, in 1994 ITC released the unedited four part version over two tapes, simply entitled Quatermass. Disappointingly they used a 16mm print which reduced the sound and picture quality. The cover bears a distorted photo of the Professor, merged with a stormy landscape.
At the 1980 Starburst Awards, Quatermass won two of the catergories. Best TV Director for Piers Haggard and Best Script for Nigel Kneale.
Kneale's attitude to his fourth outing for the Professor has varied over the years. Back in 1983 during an interview in Starburst he tartly remarked "It's a very comforting thought that nobody was pleased with the outcome of The Quatermass Conclusion." He went on to complain that he had made the story too predictable. However more recently in Hammer Horror he decided that the four hour version of Quatermass was his favourite of all the TV productions because it was the most faithful to his original script. John Mills is much more generous, praising the series as very good and wishing it could be repeated now because "it was slightly ahead of its time." Simon MacCorkindale thought that the four hour version worked extremely well but the feature length adaptation was too abbreviated at the expense of the characterisations. Quatermass's scale and the quality of its writing makes it a highly enjoyable science fiction adventure. The tone is adult and whole story is suffused with a chilly, funeral gloom that can only be achieved in British SF since there is no need to compromise to US TV's desire for neat, happy solutions. The final scene is a masterstroke. The sun is shining on a peaceful country field where children are playing. Gurov's commentary tells us that the Professor's sacrifice was not in vain, that the alien machine was successfully repulsed. But the children are playing around a stone circle and singing a rhyme that hints that the machine will come again and the harvesting will recommence.

Gareth Preston


Quatermass


Transmitted in four episodes between 24/10/79 and 14/11/79.
Reshown as two omnibus episodes between 9/5/84 and 16/5/84.
Reshown in two parts on UK Gold between 14/10/95 and 15/10/95.
Also reshown several times on the Sci-Fi Channel.

Episode One: Ringstone Round
Episode Two: Lovely Lightening
Episode Three: What Lies Beneath
Episode Four: An Endangered Species

Professor Quatermass: John Mills
Joe Kapp: Simon MacCorkindale
Clare Kapp: Barbara Kellerman
Kickalong: Ralph Arliss
Doctor Gurov: Brewster Mason
Annie Morgan: Margaret Tyzack
Alison: Brenda Fricker

Designer: Arnold Chapkin
Executive Producer: Verity Lambert
Producer: Ted Childs
Director: Piers Haggard

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