written by John Lucarotti; produced by Verity Lambert; directed by John Crockett
The opening scene bears all the hallmarks of the early William Hartnell episodes, with a leisurely exploration of the new location and a lecture from the science / history teacher (delete as applicable). It�s likeable, as scenes featuring Jacqueline Hill invariably are, but the obvious pattern that it follows in the context of the era as a whole makes it slightly hard to get into; there�s a definite feeling that Lucarotti is more comfortable with the freewheeling quasi-Elizabethan dialogue he gives to the Aztecs (for some reason) than with the mundane, everyday speech of the regulars. All this matters little as soon as the Doctor and Ian emerge from the TARDIS, the mighty Williams Hartnell and Russell forming � along with Hill � possibly the best ever Doctor / Companion grouping.
Initially the hidden doorway points to a swashbuckling serial of high adventure, and Autloc�s arrival makes for a pleasing contrast to expectations as Keith Pyott gently underplays his poetic lines. This is in stark contrast to John Ringham�s manic, almost cartoon-like portrayal of Tlotoxl, which works because for all its energy it never descends into a send-up. Ringham has stated in interviews that his performance owes a heavy debt to Richard III, as if we needed that pointed out, and on the whole The Aztecs smacks of a proto-Post-modern version of Shakespeare throughout. There�s also some incidental amusement to be had in seeing the rest of the cast doing verbal backflips in their tortuous attempts at pronouncing the character�s name. There�s a great moment of direction when he�s first introduced, as the camera sweeps sideways following the regulars, only to reverse direction and bring him suddenly and shockingly into view; I single that out as for the most part John Crockett�s direction is fairly leaden and it feels very much like he comes from a theatrical background, as characters tend to face the camera rather than each other as they speak.
It�s strange that Autloc suggests that the human sacrifices should end long before Barbara shows any influence on him; in a way it negates his character as it means that the development that�s written for him doesn�t actually exist. Yet in some ways it expresses the brilliance of the story in that something so simple at its heart becomes, over the course of the four episodes, something so magnificently rich all the same.
If there�s criticism of The Aztecs, very often it takes the form of �people only like it because Marco Polo and The Massacre are missing.� I consider the suggestion that somehow there�s a block on judging this story by its own standards rather absurd, and for the record I saw this long before I had any knowledge of Lucarotti�s other work � I loved it then, and I love it now. But I will acknowledge that Marco Polo is the superior story, and I can only wish that Waris Hussein had helmed this instead of John Crockett since the studio-recorded fight scenes are laughable; the lack of editing facilities mean that there�s no attempt at hiding the fact that the actors are desperately trying not to break their balsa wood clubs.
Margot van der Burgh is charming as Cameca and her scenes with Hartnell are a joy, all taking place in Barry Newbery�s excellent garden set. There�s been criticism here too of the Doctor getting too involved himself while warning Barbara not to, but that�s a key part of the first season�s character arc: the Doctor blunders in and causes trouble because he doesn�t apply the rules to himself. This is the episode where he gets the shock to his system that snaps him out of it: both in hurting Cameca, and in seeing Barbara�s failure. That the regulars actually get involved is one of the story�s great features, as many other historicals (particularly the otherwise-excellent The Crusade) are slightly let down by the way the regulars become little more than audience members who have wandered in front of the cameras. In The Aztecs, part of the subtlety and richness that we see comes from Lucarotti using the necessarily limited portrayal of the period to show us the regulars as much as the Aztecs themselves. From Barbara�s point of view the idea of changing history isn�t important; in this story it�s the desire to change it that matters, and I think that makes it all the more interesting. It certainly leads to the extraordinary confrontation between the Doctor and Barbara, possibly one of the best scenes ever. The Doctor�s assertion of �believe me, I know� is an early hint at the darkness of his past.
There�s a real sense of culture shock in this story, which really tries to deal with the reality of how someone would react if they were transported back four hundred years. Barbara reacts to it reasonably well in the end and has a good moment answering Tlotoxl�s questions, and �what if thieves walk among the Gods?� is a great line.
Here�s where the episode�s credibility takes a massive blow though, as it turns out all of a sudden that mild-mannered science teacher Ian happens to be a martial arts expert. This is one of the hugest contrivances of all time, and while the fact that it�s only ever mentioned in this episode means that it doesn�t come across as quite so huge it does make it even less plausible. Thanks to William Russell it�s still oddly likeable, but Ian�s line of �I won�t kill you this time� � to the Aztec warrior chief, no less � is funny for all the wrong reasons and docks this episode, in isolation, several points. However, it does herald the beginning of a more focussed plot as Tlotoxl and Ixta begin to scheme together.
Frequently in this story conversations are overheard, characters go off with each other for clandestine asides, and overly-convenient family connections emerge (Ixta being the temple-builder�s son) that really highlight the episode�s Shakespearian roots. Broadcasting its influences so blatantly gives The Aztecs more of a sense of fun than other episodes, and the nightmare that faces Barbara seems all the more disturbing as a consequence. The two disparate elements of pastiche and serious drama hang together though, largely because of the reverence with which it�s all treated. The exception is Cameca�s ridiculous line of �in bliss is quenched my thirsty heart�, which takes the episode temporarily far beyond the realms of parody.
Episode two�s battle between Ian and Ixta has a certain climatic feel to it, and episode three has a very �second half� feel with new elements added to the plot, such as the impending eclipse and Susan�s arranged marriage to the Perfect Victim. Equally the characters gain some new material, as Ian explains to Barbara that she�s seeing Tlotoxl as the unusual one when really he isn�t. It�s followed by another fantastically enjoyable scene as Tlotoxl and Tonila try to make Barbara drink poisoned wine. The third episode nicely combines all the different elements of the story: the tunnel into the temple gives us the high adventure the beginning suggested, while the Doctor�s accidental engagement to Cameca lightens the tone; meanwhile, Autloc�s shocked question to Barbara that �you would sacrifice us to save your handmaiden pain?� never lets us forget the awful situation she has made for herself. This episode also gives us the first real cliffhanger, as the others seem more like story breaks with something dramatic added on as an afterthought to make up the requirements.
Episode four (or should that be Act IV?) shows just how useless the regulars� well-intentioned plans are as they are forced to simply abandon their mistakes rather than to try to make amends for them and risk further damage, and Autloc�s line of �we are a doomed people� really shows the implications of non-interference. The plot to frame Ian for the attack on Autloc shows up Tlotoxl�s human motivations as well as his religious ones, which dampen his character slightly as they make him an ordinary villain, rather than someone who just happens to be convinced that their beliefs are true. However, he does have one more fantastic speech, talking about how he wants to seal �the false Yetaxa� in a room without doors.
I gather the final battle (helped by being film-recorded) is supposed to be climax, but for me the more significant scene is the utterly sublime coda between the Doctor and Barbara. I can only imagine with horror how this scene would be played these days, with the two of them crying in each others� arms while Murray Gold drenches the scene in strings�here we have a quiet, understated exchange: �We failed, didn�t we?� �Yes we did. We had to.� And not forgetting the final message, �you failed to save a civilisation, but at least you helped one man.� And as if that wasn�t enough, look at the Doctor�s final moments: he sadly leaves behind his memento of Cameca, and then at the last minute changes his mind and goes back for it. I�m normally a cynical old duffer about this sort of thing, but something about how understated it is makes me all warm inside.
It�s a shame that The Aztecs has developed a reputation as being a poor man�s Marco Polo, and I feel that if Lucarotti�s other episodes were found it might become more popular as people would stop these incessant and spurious comparisons. As it is, taken on its own terms, The Aztecs is utterly gorgeous and I�m eternally glad that it survives.
Overall: *****
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