Lions and Daleks and Wizards, Oh My!

Trafalgar Square seems a popular place to linger with one’s friends.  Perhaps it always has been.  When the Doctor Who production team filmed “The Dalek Invasion of Earth” here in 1964 (nearly fifty years ago!), they arrived just after sunrise, and still had to beg hippies and late-night partiers to go elsewhere.  Thus, as Barbara, Jenny, and Dortman flee the city, they come upon an empty square, where they hide behind plinths until the Daleks roll past.  

In addition to the statues of famous people, and Admiral Nelson atop his tall column, four lions look outward in all directions to guard the square from invaders, much as the females would guard their male (and the rest of their pride) from unexpected attack.  The lions, a symbol of England since Richard the Lionheart first placed them on his royal crest, are a familiar sight in London.  But these lions are special, for the plinths they rest upon once bore special identifying marks in the Dalek language.  If memory serves, an irate policeman made the designer stay behind after filming ended until he had personally scrubbed the plinths clean.   (Bad Designer!  That’s what you get for defacing public property!)

Fountains take up much of the square, and they are beautiful to look at.  But more overwhelming was the large screen that had been erected in the square, along with loudspeakers.  The latter’s presence was due to Trafalgar Square’s first ever movie premier, which had been held the week before.  The film: “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Part 2,” the final installment of the series (based upon the novels of J. K. Rowling).  The idea of holding a movie premier in Trafalgar Square struck me as somewhat ironic, as one reason for the fountains’ presence was break up this large, flat area in order to prevent large groups from assembling here.

Certainly many had gathered here this morning, most of whom I took to be associated with school field trips or tour groups.  Kids, teens, and camera-laden adults chatted and ate and drank, enjoying each other’s company on this concrete expanse, when they could have played or strolled through the serene natural beauty of nearby St. James Park.  Speaking for myself, it was nice to visit a place that I had seen so many times on TV (mostly because “The Dalek Invasion of Earth” is one of my favorite Doctor Who stories).  But I realized I had no real reason to linger outside, because just few steps away awaited the work of so many masters of the canvas.  Artists whose work had inspired people not just for the last few decades, but for centuries.

So, I walked along the flat concrete courtyard where Daleks had once patrolled, bid the lions adieu, and climbed the steps toward the National Gallery.

Richard the Lionheart in “The Crusade”

I would have taken little notice of Richard’s statue, had my interest in him not previously been awakened by the Doctor Who story “The Crusade.”  In this four-part serial featuring the first Doctor, played by William Hartnell, the Doctor, Ian, Barbara, and Vicki leave the Tardis to find a group of Saracens attacking Richard and his hunting party.  The heroes prevent a knight of Richard’s from dying, but amid the fight, the Saracens, led by El Akir, kidnap Barbara and carry her to Saladin, the head of the Muslim forces.

At Richard’s compound in Jaffa, Ian longs to ransom Barbara.  At first Richard refuses to allow this, lost in his mourning for those who died in the attack.  But a suggestion of the Doctor’s gives him an idea.  He is weary of the fighting, and wishes for a peaceful resolution that will allow him to end his crusade with dignity.  He sends Ian off with soldiers and a secret offer for peace through the marriage of his sister Joanna to Saladin’s brother, Saphadin.


The Doctor sides with Richard against knights who insist that they must reclaim Jerusalem from the Muslims.  These knights tell Joanna of her brother’s secret scheme to marry her off, but point to the Doctor as the informant.  When Richard cools down, he realizes that the Doctor, as a man of peace, would not have betrayed his confidence.  He would like to punish the knights for this outrage, but he cannot.  As Joanna has refused to marry Saphadin, Richard needs their good will, as he must now press on toward Jerusalem. 


Meanwhile, Barbara has made El Akir look foolish before Saladin.  To salve his dignity, El Akir has abducted her from Saladin’s camp, intent upon torturing her.  While Ian races after her, the Doctor and Vicki, warned by Richard of his knights’ plotting against them, flee his fortress, hoping to make it back to the Tardis with their lives.


As in the preceding story, historians have portrayed Richard as a complex man.  They stress that he was a man of god and a fearless warrior; they praise him as a great castle architect and a military leader.  He even forgave the man who shot him, once he realized the arrow-wound was terminal.  Yet in his forty-one years, Richard only lived in England for six months, and spoke no English.  He banned all women and Jews from his coronation at Westminster Abbey.  He flogged the Jewish leaders who insisted upon offering him presents, which prompted a massacre of the Jews living in London.  Richard disliked the city, declaring that it was “cold and always raining,” and decided to leave on a crusade.  In order to raise his army, he raided the country’s coffers, issued a hefty tax, and sold off official positions, rights and land.  He famously declared, “I would have sold London if I could have found a buyer.” 


At first, I was mystified to find Richard so memorialized (above all others) in front of the seat of English government.  But then I remembered King David, who had many similar faults.  Like the Biblical writers, the Victorians who erected this statue chose to memorialize Richard for qualities traditionally attributed to the human heart: in this case, his courage and generosity.  So perhaps I should follow their example and remember this English king and crusader for these key, praise-worthy qualities.


Perhaps, at the end of the day, that’s the best way to remember anyone.

Sadly, many of the early episodes of Doctor Who no longer exist.  Episodes One and Three of this four-part serial have been recovered, and are available, along with other orphaned episodes, on “William Hartnell: Lost in Time.”  This DVD also includes the audio track from episodes two and four. 


If, after enjoying what remains of “The Crusade,” you find yourself hungry for more, you may wish to check out the telesnap reconstruction of this story, in which the audio track from Episodes Two and Four has been married with existing still photographs from the production.  Also included are interviews with Julian Glover, the actor who portrayed Richard.  In these he shares his memories of working on “The Crusade,” and reminisces about playing refers to his roles in two of George Lucas’ famous franchises: as General Veers in “The Empire Strikes Back,” and as Walter Donovan in the ironically-named “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.”  You can find this worthy effort at www.recons.com.

Richard the Lionheart: Car Park Attendant

My feet wish to continue on with my exploration of London, but my eyes, overwhelmed by so much splendor, beg me to linger.  The Palace of Westminster displays more arches than the New York Marathon.  Steeples shoot up along its sides and adorn its roof-line, clustered together more tightly than the teeth on a lawn rake.  Intriguing details, such as the heads of kings, shields (or royal family crests), and lions and unicorns, adorn its outer walls, reminding me of the depth of riches within Westminster Abbey.  And this enormous structure is protected not just by gargoyles and police, but by a king. 


Richard the First, better known as Richard the Lionheart, sits atop his war-horse, his sword raised toward the heavens.  While the building he guards was (and is still known as) a palace, it no longer houses royalty, but elected politicians.  I find a certain irony here.  Richard was the third legitimate-born son of King Henry the Second, and as such should never have been crowned.  But such as his ambition for the throne that he led his soldiers into battle against those of his brothers, and later defeated his father’s forces as well.  So now his statue guards the meeting place of those who have, over the centuries, have continually taken more of the monarch’s powers for themselves, and in the process relegated their royalty to little more than figureheads.  And from what illustrious vantage point does this brave king guard the palace from?  Why, the middle of the car park (or parking lot), of course.


This is another aspect of London that takes some getting used to.  There’s more history packed into one square yard here than there is in one square block back in San Diego (if not in one square mile), and it’s all crammed together like the members of a football team (American or European) trying to squeeze themselves into a Mini Cooper.  According to the Palace website, architects Charles Barry and Augustus Welby Pugin obsessed over every aspect of the building, and neither lived to see its completion.  (Sadly, Pugin was briefly admitted to an insane asylum shortly before his death). Nevertheless, it’s a stunning building that has found a permanent home in our imaginations.  It appears in so many movies, including those of two of the world’s most popular franchises: Harry Potter and James Bond.  And after agents Steed and Peel destroy August de Wynter’s weather-control machine beneath the Thames in the 1998 movie “The Avengers”, the transparent globe in which they escape surfaces in front of the Palace of Westminster.  They have saved the Houses of Parliament, and in so doing, they have saved civilization.


One fact is certain: the Palace of Westminster stands as a beautiful testament to the glories of Gothic architecture.  Or Neo-Classical, depending upon which source you read.  Or, for that matter, Gothic Revival, Neo-Gothic, Perpendicular Gothic, or even Neo-Perpendicular Gothic.  (I’m glad we established that unassailable fact).  I just find myself growing a little sad for poor Richard.  You would think, for so beloved a historic figure, that he deserves better than to end up guarding the car park.