‘IMPS
AND DEMONS’
Episode
three of the Nigel Kneale six-part serial QUATERMASS AND THE PIT was broadcast
on the fifth of January 1959 and attracted nine point eight million viewers, a
good two million plus up on the seven point six watching the first episode
broadcast on the 22nd of December, two weeks earlier.
Word
was obviously getting around.
Or
maybe those few evenings just before Christmas still had other distractions
rather than this new-fangled telly.
Still,
9.8 million is impressive when you consider that TV sets weren’t yet quite as
ubiquitous as they would become, and even if you factor in that there were
still only two channels to watch, and that the population in 1959 was
significantly smaller overall than it is now, it’s an impressive chunk of the
population sitting down to watch was basically still thought of as a horror
serial on a Monday evening.
And
two point two million statistics who were busy catching up – another one point
two would be added for the final episode, but we’ll come to that – had probably
genuinely believed, at that point, that they’d missed it forever – although,
due to the new fangled recording processes, the serial did get an omnibus
repeat in two parts the following Christmas.
It’s
THAT good…!
It
also serves as a reminder that, having devoured the Arrow Paperbacks seven
years earlier, and used several quotes from them when writing my thesis earlier
that year, this was the first episode I could actually sit down and watch as
IMPS AND DEMONS was chosen to represent the QUATERMASS serials as part of the
TV50 celebrations in November 1986.
For
those of you just joining us, I’ll begin with a brief quick recap to where
we’re up to. Episode one dealt with the discovery of something impossibly old
in an archaeological dig, and episode two took us from the discovery of that
great age, through several great character moments, to Sapper West getting “the
’orrors” whilst inside the spaceship that Colonel Breen, Quatermass’s new deputy
at the Rocket Group, is still insisting is not a spaceship, but an unexploded
bomb.
My
articles about these episodes featured in episodes 41 and 43 of the ROUND THE
ARCHIVES podcast, if you want to track them down later.
Anyway,
as the excitable mid-Atlantic tones of the narrator – rumoured (not
unreasonably) to be the writer Nigel Kneale himself – catch the viewers up over
silent scenes from the earlier episodes, there’s a crafty mention of Quatermass
being “struck by a fancy” which isn’t the sort of language you’d hear in such a
place nowadays, that’s for sure.
Nevertheless,
the fancy having been struck, the recap from the end of THE GHOSTS begins, as
it should, with that scream from Sapper West which is still rather blood
curdling and we are reminded – as if we could forget – of that figure he claims
to have seen which went through the wall.
We
cut to the interior of a suddenly very clean Martian Spaceship (although we
shouldn’t call it that yet, which is gleaming white with depressed circles on
all its sides which can’t help but trigger those memories of a certain time
ship to the modern viewer who might have watched a certain amount of
science-fiction.
“Westie”
collapses, and is carted outside, to be greeted by the concrete-headed ire of
Colonel Breen asking whether he is ill. Michael Ripper as the sergeant is
literally more supportive of Sapper West, and tells him to “take it easy, lad”
in a friendly manner that doesn’t last, but I suppose the average sergeant
can’t allow the veneer to crack too often, and it’s a nice character moment.
Supported
by two of his colleagues, Westie describes what he saw directly into the lens
before being carried off in front of what, in theatrical terms, might be
considered to be a chorus of soldiers standing alongside Roney and Judd, and
Corporal Gibson’s softly spoken “He’s got the ’orrors!” speaks for the nation
at that point.
Breen,
of course, solid concrete between his ears, is dismissive of this blatant
display of claustrophobia, and declares that West should never have been on the
squad, which is an attitude he might regret having just a little later.
Quatermass,
meanwhile, inside the capsule ponders upon what was said earlier about the
strange markings, the pentacle, and black magic, and wonders if Sapper West
might have overheard, but dismisses it. Alongside Roney, they find that the
inner surface is “covered” in these markings although they are only really
clearly seen on the wall to the enclosed compartment, but the slow creep of the
sinister tones of the music on the soundtrack suggests that something worrying
is going on.
Colonel
Breen and Barbara Judd exchange a telling moment outside the capsule which
speaks volumes about their differing characters, hints at the deep-seated fers
that Breen is afraid to display, and suggests that the Martian Inheritance
might already be making itself known. It’s a skilful foreshadowing of future
events that is just subtle enough to feel significant upon rewatching.
Breen
then pulls himself together and demands that the Bomb Disposal team dig down
another three feet which the ever cynical Corporal Gibson recognises as the
psychology of “Keep ’em busy… Don’t give ’em time to think” that it very
obviously is.
We
cut to the hut just a split second too early to catch the actors waiting for
their cue to sit poor Sapper West down, and Roney feels obliged to make some
flimsy excuse as to why he’s got a supply of Brandy to hand.
Revived
by the Brandy, the sergeant is suddenly far less sympathetic as Westie is then
interviewed at some length by Professor Quatermass, and, despite the sergeant’s
unpleasant sarcastic scepticism, the music creeps in again as we hear about the
mysterious figure of “A Dwarf” and how “Horrible” it was.
What
a word that is: “Horrible.”
By
now, the viewers’ imaginations must have been running wild about what this
horrible vision was that he was supposed to have seen, but his description is
picked up by Barbara as she reads from the various articles she’d collected
during her researches in the previous episode, ad the various descriptions of
“The Hobb’s Lane Ghost” of 1927, and our fears of ghosts are again being
stimulated by this master of writing creeping uncertainty.
“They
saw it then…?” perfectly conveying Sapper West’s hope that he isn’t, in fact,
going completely mad.
Sapper
West is then carted off onto sick leave, with instructions that he’d better not
talk to the other men, and, apart from when the other soldiers watch
suspiciously as he is helped up the ramp and out of the pit, we never see him
again. It’s a great little cameo from John Walker, and nicely played. It could
have so easily slipped into parody, but the truth and reality of his
performance never wavers, and sells his fear perfectly.
Back
outside, in the coldness of the pit, another discovery is made, as the digging
party find what is presumed to be the missing door of the capsule, although the
suggestion from Potter that it would have to have been unscrewed from the
inside is ignored by Breen, as he suggests that they can use it for testing.
Back
inside the hut, more of the old tales of hauntings around Hobb’s Lane are being
read, and the general sense of eeriness is covered by one of three actual jokes
in this episode, as Dr Roney takes an “I don’t usually…” swig of his Brandy,
which serve alleviate the tension superbly.
After
all, the audience does have to relax occasionally, so that you can ramp up the
suspense again.
Kneale
showing his mastery once again I these tiny moments sometimes lost in the shorter
running time of the film adaptations.
We
cut to the sinister sight of John Stratton wielding a blowtorch in rather
sinister goggles, but his efforts are in vain, as the burn has failed to make
the slightest impression, and his protestations that he kept the same spot for
five minutes just seem to irritate Breen.
At
least Quatermass’s “Rocket Man” credentials are addressed for a moment here, as
he examines this “not even warm” “good, stout door” with an engineer’s eye,
pointing out that this Rocket Engineer’s dream heatproof material is unlikely
to have been created by th Germans during the war and then forgotten about.
Von
Braun even gets a namecheck here, as he probably ought to.
Again
we cut back to the chorus of soldiers, probably there simply to cover an
actor’s move during a live broadcast, and once again the gallows humour of
Corporal Gibson wondering whether they’re all going to get blown up as
Quatermass - “the boffin” as they call
him - wields his little pocket knife, and the growing sense of unease that none
of “them” – by which he means those in charge - know what they’re doing.
What
Quatermass does actually wield is a magnifying glass and, as he examines the
surface of the still sealed bulkhead, etched, remember, with those devilish
markings – as the creeping music reminds us as he touches the surface with his
hands - he discovers one etched slightly more deeply which might mean that this
panel could be unscrewed if they could drill a hole and get some kind of
purchase upon it to turn it. Strangely, he seems to be working quite closely
with Breen at this moment, presumably as, for once, they both have the same
goal, simply to get into that sealed compartment and find out what’s inside.
And
when they do…
But
we’re not there yet.
As
they already know that the surface is “harder than diamond” from the
Professor’s experiment with his diamond ring in the last episode, Quatermass
suggests they could use a drill with a Borazon bit, which is also “harder than
diamond” (at least at high temperatures) which is actually a little bit of real
science, fact fans, and not a made-up thing at all.
Breen
is sceptical – isn’t he always? – about this, as it would mean bringing in a
civilian operator, which, of course, will bring the perhaps the most memorable
character of the entire serial, one Mr Sladden, into the story, although his
finest moments will have to wait until episode four, THE ENCHANTED.
Breen
hopes that he’ll be someone who will keep his mouth shut.
Then,
via a newspaper headline from what is now swiftly becoming Old News, we cut to
a scene which is possibly the most disappointing in the entire serial, but
which serves to bring James Fullalove back into the world of Quatermass, albeit
played this time around by Brian Worth.
In
a tiny corner of a tiny newsroom, a News Editor is in conference with a
reporter and a photographer, lamenting the fact that the “Knightsbridge Apemen”
story has kind of fizzled out.
It’s
just the sort of exposition scene that is probably necessary but seems
workmanlike at best, as if they’re all playing at the idea of what the popular
idea of a newsroom might be, and, even as James Fullalove – who was previously
played as a kind of dandy in a trilby and long overcoat by Paul Whitsun-Jones –
enters the room, it fails to be the exciting moment it promises to be, as if
the cliché of the star reporter needs to be served, and the performances
unfortunately do seem unconvincing somehow as Fullalove identifies “our old
pal” Quatermass and Breen from the news photographs and requests one of those
little spy cameras from his never to be seen again photographer colleague.
The
delivery of the “thinking” line “Big brass… War Office… Guided Missiles… Got
It!” is where it falls down for me, but what do I know? The style of Brian
Worth’s performance soon settles down, and we are genuinely concerned about his
fate later on.
Live
television must have been terrifying to perform, really, and I suspect that
there were a lot of moments that made it to air that frightened,
adrenaline-charged actors would prefer never did.
Happily,
this segue into another, less interesting world, is swiftly over, and we return
to the pit where the sergeant is setting up a fateful generator, and inside the
capsule where Sladden – for it is indeed he – is setting up his drilling kit.
Suddenly
it seems obvious that getting in and setting up all of this rig now explains
all of that sudden interest in a faraway newsroom, as the complicated props
were shifted into position.
Sladden,
played with an easy, blue-collar, earthy charm by Richard Shaw, introduces
himself and his credentials by explaining the “secret job” he once did to help
a man escape from a vault he’d been locked inside of, and this gives Anthony
Bushell his finest moment as he deadpan the second joke that this particular
episode contains:
“Then
I’m glad you don’t talk about it”
What
a gift that line must have been when playing such an otherwise unsympathetic
character as Colonel Breen.
Anyway,
as Sladden continues to prattle on about how good it is to have insurance in a
way which might have worried the board of governors of the BBC, we are
reintroduced to that generator with which the Bomb Disposal Unit have been
having “a little trouble…”
There’s
also a little bit of visual hand movement business that foreshadows the frostbite
that the team all start to suffer from later, because it’s now getting
“perishing cold” within the pit itself.
Barbara
Judd, meanwhile, is still collecting specimens near to the hull, and finds
“something” on the ground that the script book says is a dead bird, but I’d
never picked that up on screen.
I
always thought it was simply another fossil, but reading that does make a kind
of sense, especially as the pieces are starting to fit together, and the story is
starting to take its latest sharp turn from a ghost story into an all-out
horror story.
But
she also does take a moment to bond a little with Captain Potter as that
blessed frostbite needs attending to, to help underscore why he is so
protective of her later on.
Quatermass
however, refuses to leave, even if Breen tries to make it an order.
Well,
it IS his name in the title, isn’t it?
Certainly
whatever brief air of cooperation he might have had with Breen earlier has come
to a swift end.
And
then, as the sergeant blows his warning whistle, it’s time for everyone to
clear the area and go beyond the so-called “safe limit” barrier set up by the
UXB boys, and we favour that “Unexploded Bomb” sign for several seconds as the
civilians, police officers and the sappers all escape the pit for a while.
There
is a strange, unearthly reply to the whistle, and we are suddenly on edge
again, in anticipation that something strange is about to occur, and Sladden
sets about drilling into the unknown interior of that mysterious sealed
compartment.
And,
after the strange screeching of the drill, Sladden in perplexed, because it too
has barely made a scratch upon this mysterious surface… until… until…
The
whole site is suddenly overwhelmed by strange vibration effects and that
unearthly radiophonic warble that must have terrified a generation. Potter and
the sergeant realise that they’re in trouble, and the army rushes in to help.
Sladden
collapses, and our hero, Quatermass, is visibly phased by the whole experience
as, indeed, is Breen, who, despite his stern retort to West earlier, is
actually sick – although thankfully off-screen.
Almost
convincing himself that this is some kind of freak acoustic effect, Quatermass struggles to get his words out –
with fine acting, not because he’s ‘dried” – and he spins and twists and turns
as the sound returns and he staggers to escape from the area.
It’s
a powerful moment in the story, as everyone seems overwhelmed and confused
about just what is going on, and even the usually safe pair of hands – well, in
story terms anyway, his track record on safety isn’t all that great to be
honest - that is Professor Quatermass seems shaken and bewildered.
At
the barrier there are questions being asked about what’s going on, just as Star
Reporter James Fullalove rocks up using the magic words “I’m Press” to justify
almost anything.
Nothing
new there, eh?
But
he is snubbed by Quatermass, who is desperately trying to talk to Roney about
the occult symbols they saw inside the capsule, and he drags Roney away to try
and do some more urgent research, whilst trying to talk Potter into getting
Breen to do nothing until he returns.
Potter’s
“I’ll try” is responded to with the third joke of the episode, the drily
delivered “At the moment I think he’s fairly amenable …” as he dashes off, with
star Reporter James Fullalove in hot pursuit and sensing a story.
At
the library, a lot of ancient-looking documents have been gathered and
Quatermass is reading out loud from one of them about “Alarming noises and
spectral appearances” reported in September of 1762 as a well was being dug,
and whilst the librarian – a cough and a spit appearance by Donald McCollum as
the elderly librarian – is dismissive of such nonsense, wild rumours and
speculation, and the things people would believe back then, and there is much
talk of ghosts and goblins, Quatermass begins to wonder about whether these
stories are simply other phenomena that have been badly observed and wrongly
interpreted.
Hmm…
Badly
observed or wrongly interpreted… It could be a slogan for any TV historian…
There;’s
much talk of weird happenings from ancient times and, in a discussion about
that peculiar double spelling of “Hob’s/Hobb’s Lane” – it’s the number of Bs
you know – Kneale throws in to that generally church-going nation of the late
1950s that Hob was one of the familiar names for the devil, and sets spines
throughout the land a-tingling.
Fullalove
then turns up in full Star Investigative Reporter mode and, before they know
it, he’s dragging them off to the Westminster Abbey Archives.
Westminster
Abbey, eh…? I wonder how kindly they look upon the old Professor…?
But
before they have any chance to get there, back at the pit, Breen is rready to
have another go at drilling that hatch, and not listening to Potter telling him
that the Professor suggested waiting.
Breen
does at least give credit to the Professor’s theory about acoustic effects, and
suggests laying out blankets to reduce this, but before any of this can happen,
it becomes apparent that the hull itself has other ideas, as the point where
Sladden was drilling has started to melt through in a slightly dodgy effect
insert which we have to forgive under the live circumstances, and whilst the
honks of distant car horns speak of a world beyond, the focus is increasingly
on this tiny hole about to melt through and potentially release all the furies
of hell upon the world.
Potter
is desperate to get Barbara away from this place and is increasingly worried
about where Quatermass, in this situation, the voice of reason (because Brian
Donlevy would have been a completely different fish kettle), is, when the
increasingly unbalanced Breen is taking charge.
Meanwhile,
at those Westminster Abbey Archives, another librarian is coughing and
spitting, this time played by Fletcher Lightfoot, which is a name to conjure
with for some of us, as we learn about charcoal burners in 1341 and how this
had long been a troubled place, and how such troubles were always associated
with disturbances to the ground.
Realising
the urgency of what they are finding out, Quatermass dashes back to the pit,
where Breen is already looking through the peephole in the door with some kind
of viewing device, to discover that, indeed, it is not full of explosives, and
“not a warhead, no…” but something else that he’s really not prepared to let
captain Potter, the explosives expert, have a look at.
Quatermass
arrives full of fury and just in time for the episode ending, as Breen requests
that they might use Sladden’s drilling equipment in a different way to get this
hatch open.
Quatermass
borrows Breen’s scope thingie and is taken aback by what it shows him.
He
thinks it’s an eye!
Breen
is suddenly quite shocked, grave and serious, but agrees that it probably is an
eye, and that he didn’t see it move.
There
is also a strong smell of decomposition as the air rushed into the space the
moment they broke the seal, which, if you think about it, is a nice subtle nod
to all of those old horror films about Egyptian Mummies that they used to make.
Quatermass
is now fully aware about how quickly they will need to work if they are to find
anything remaining beyond that bulkhead, but his next line:
“Warn
your men… things may happen…!”
Must
have had those 9.8 million people shifting over to the edge of their seats.
What
the heck is that thing?
Did
he say an EYE…?
I’m
sure he mentioned ghosts……!
And
goblins…!
And
a hideous dwarf…!
And
the devil…! Don’t forget that he mentioned the devil…!
Oh,
this has been an absolute master class in building up tension and it really
doesn’t disappoint.
Meanwhile,
as Quatermass offers the explanation of “subjective impressions” setting of
visions, and making them hear strange and peculiar noises, he starts to wonder
where Fullalove has got to.
He
is, of course, in the shed, blagging the phone, and calling up his editor.
This
is, after all, a veritable scoop, but he’s really serving in this instance as
the narrator explaining what’s going on as we approach that devastating
unforgettable episode ending as, from a high shot showing the entire excavation
site, we cut to black as the hatch is pulled away from us, giving us a dead-eye
view of first the humans and then the shot is reversed to reveal…
THAT
reveal…!
The
Martians…!
A
slow tracking shot of three astonishingly well-made and detailed creatures
suspended in a decaying web.
There
must have been cries of “What the heck are they?” (or similar) across the land
as they are utterly alien, with three legs, horned, and with those jelly like
eyes staring blankly back out at us.
And
then…
And
then…
At
EXACTLY the right moment, one of them just… drops slightly.
A
shocking, sudden movement that must have sent grown men and women scurrying off
to find several million cushions to hide behind.
Even
the normally staid Breen jumps.
Then
Quatermass whispers two words designed to perfectly underscore the tension –
“The demons!” and that perfect episode ending of:
“It’s
all right, they’re dead. They’ve been dead a long time…!”
And
those end titles crash in again and episode three is done, with a promise of
more the following Monday, if anyone could bear to wait that long.
Oh
yes, they had no choice.
In
fact, with live television, the next episode didn’t even exist yet. There was no
binge-watching then.
And,
for those of us who came to QUATERMASS AND THE PIT far later on, via that much
anticipated VHS release, that was the point where that one word “intermission”
popped up, which seems a nice, nostalgic moment to finish on.
At
least until we gather once again to look at THE ENCHANTED and, believe me, that
one is really worth the wait.
If
you think this one was shocking enough, just wait until you hear what Nigel and
the Professor have in store for you then.
Stay
tuned.
Martin A W Holmes, December 2019
