The perils of 'Paradise Towers'

The 24th season of Doctor Who in 1987 is seen by many as the nadir of the legendary time travelling show. The story 'Paradise Towers' came in for heaps of criticism, but holds curious memories for me – barely 7-years-old when I first saw it. Over two decades later, here's a look at one particular sequence that's lingered long in the memory through its scary content. How does it hold up?

"There's nothing quite like tea and crumpets, is there?" gushed companion Mel Bush in the apartment of Tilda and Tabby, two seemingly sweet old ladies (or Rezzies) who had invited her round and away from all the murderous robotic cleaners. "All the same, I really must be going now."

"Oh, we couldn't possibly let you do that," replied Tilda, with a sinister glint in her eye and the compassion draining from her voice.

"We would like you to stay for a very long time," said Tabby, played by the recently departed Elisabeth Spriggs. As she was very familiar to young children in the latter half of the '80s for starring in the BBC's Simon And The Witch, it was disconcerting to see her suddenly switch into evil mode.

"In fact, we don't imagine you ever leaving at all..." chipped in Tabby.

Cue some incongruous and unsubtle Psycho-style pseudo-violin strains on the soundtrack to let us know that something sinister is going down - as if the dialogue, Mel's noticeable unease and the maniacal glares of the two Rezzies wasn't enough to make anyone twig.

Tilda then pounced on Mel with a knitted net, pinning her down to the settee, while Tabby jabbed a toasting fork in her direction. Then came the aural equivalent of the money shot. Bonnie Langford, sorry, Melanie Bush, squeams and squeams during her moment of pensioner-induced peril.

"In our experience, Mel dear, it is much better not to struggle too much," advised Tilda, adopting a Dalek-style monotone intonation. Perhaps the production office had some kind of 'Doctor Who Villain Style Guide' during that era of the show. Maybe as a drastic measure brought on by Graham Crowden's turn as Soldeed in 'The Horns of Nimon'? That made Richard Briers's later performance as the Kroagnon-possessed Chief Caretaker in 'Paradise Towers' look like a model of thespian restraint.

Anyway, Mel wailed and struggled at forkpoint long enough for the director to become bored and cut to The Doctor, some fit Kangs and one of those stalling scenes featuring a locked door being slowly cut open with a laser by the bad guys. Then it was back to the bawling Bush…

"Look - a joke's a joke but this has gone on long enough!" squealed Mel. Or could it have been an ad lib by Bonnie aimed at the show itself?

The two Rezzies had by now prepared a cooking pot on the stove for their planned dinner, but Mel screamed when she saw a robotic claw briefly enter the room.

"Waaaaaahhhh! There's something wrong with the waste disposal unit!"

"No I can't see anything," responds Tabby, after a cursory glance at it and conveniently turning her back on the unit.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh," wailed Mel as the Cleaner claw suddenly shot out and yanked the geriatric cannibal down the hatch.

"Tabby! Tabby!" screeched Tilda. But her fellow Rezzie had departed. She turned round to Mel, large knife in hand, and advanced towards her intended meal.

"Oh, what a naughty little girl we are. Looks as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth and now she's killed poor, dear Tabby!"

"It wasn't me Tilda - it was the thing in the waste disposal unit! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!"

"I hate little fibbers!" blasted Tilda, whose reasoning was a bit flawed to say the least. Did she think Mel had somehow used the sonic waves from her screams to propel Tabby down the waste disposal unit?

As Tilda moved closer towards Mel, the cowardly cutlet Pex broke down the door and avoided Tilda's knife being flung at him. To be fair, her aim was about as accurate as a newball delivery by Steve Harmison these days.

Tilda then rushed over to pick up another knife and as she pulled her arm back ready to throw it, she stood with her back turned to the waste disposal unit. Guess what happened next, folks? Out came the big metal claw to drag her down the chute. Game over. An end to the screeching. Phew…

Isn't it wonderful how the bitterness and cynicism picked up over the years can add a new slant to material that once scared the living daylights out of little kiddies? It's a scream…