The Dr Who Annual [1966]

[Sep 1965] Annual. Original price 9/6.
pages. Full colour contents.
World Distributors (Manchester) Limited.

Based on the BBC television series starring William Hartnell.

Cover painting by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

Contents:

 2 UNTITLED endpaper; illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

 4 Indicia

 5 The Dr Who Annual title page; illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

 6 Contents illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

 7 The Lair of the Zarbi Supremo text story by David Whitaker (uncredited); illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

22 Who is Dr Who? text feature by David Whitaker (uncredited); illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

24 The Sons of the Crab text story by David Whitaker (uncredited); illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

37 The Lost Ones text story by David Whitaker (uncredited); illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

50 Journey Back to Earth board game; illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

52 The Equations of Dr Who text feature by David Whitaker (uncredited); illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

54 The Monsters from Earth text story by David Whitaker (uncredited); illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

67 Peril in Mechanistria text story by David Whitaker (uncredited); illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

81 The Fish Men of Kandalinga text story by David Whitaker (uncredited); illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

94 UNTITLED endpaper; illustrated by Walt Howarth (uncredited).

The Dr Who Annual is a different experience than anything modern readers might be used to, with the title the prime indicator that details might not be observed in translating the character to the page. Howarth's take on the first Doctor is, however, a treat to behold, commanding attention against a desolate alien landscape. The contents, however, are far from what viewers would have been expecting - which might, in retrospect, not be entirely disappointing. Those predisposed to strong continuity are likely to get a nosebleed from the annual, but approached in the proper frame of mind it is a very entertaining read.

There is a strong sense of surreality to the cover, with curious aliens sharing the cover in an attempt to sell the SF angle to readers who might be unfamiliar with the television series, though the effect merely emphasises a separation from its established history. Maybe there's a convention on... Other explanations for so many species gathering here may apply.

I've never been entirely sold on the endpaper, with its jauntily-angled TARDIS, and a forties-style space-station hanging in the air - it is both too generic, and too specific, to convince as an image from the series, as if the Doctor and the TARDIS had been placed on a preexisting background.

Despite the beautiful lettering at the top of the page, the contents page illustration is, simply put, awful. The image isn't of recognisable aliens, and their gape-mouthed appearance makes the scene more comedic than dramatic. Owing more to The Outer Limits than anything, its one saving grace is the expert manner in which it draws the eye to the beginning of the first text story. Subtle it is not, yet there is great skill behind the image.

The shock of hearing the voice was so great that Dr Who had barely time to complete the materialisation process. But old habit was strong, and smoothly and efficiently the Tardis slid in through the transdimensional flux and fitted its rearranged atoms into the new sphere. By all the doctor's co-ordinates and calculations this world should be the planet Vortis but just where on the planet, or when in the time-scale of that world, he could not as yet know. He drove home the last lever and, with hands on the edges of the control panel, panted with excitement. The voice through his radio had been talking in modern English!

His name may not be right, the TARDIS isn't treated as an acronym, and - because it is so apparent here - the first Doctor panting with excitement is so out of character everything which follows is cast into a strange light. Clad in an Atmospheric Density Jacket, the Doctor sets out to investigate where (and when) he has landed. Finally locating the source of the message - a recording from a crashed ship, Solar Queen, the only inhabitants being a young boy named Gordon Hamilton and his injured, and comatose, father. Convincing the boy to help his fetch the other survivors - now missing - the Doctor and Gordon explore the Zarbi dwellings...

The robot Zarbi suits are a nice touch, although the Doctor's violent solution to the problems he faces is wildly out of character. Neither The Lair of the Zarbi Supremo or The Sons of the Crab, the next story, have the tone and character quite right. Trapped by alien scientists, the Doctor is subjected to a variety of tests, and faces being dissected. An entire planet of shape-shifters, desperate to discover a cure for their "affliction" is a wonderful conceit, and the sustained conversation between the Doctor and Formal gives some idea of what it must be like to live on such a planet.

The strong horror theme which arrives naturally from this set-up, and which is nudged slightly to the forefront, is a different (though not unwelcome) genre to the Doctor's normal adventures. As a story which would have been impossible to film in the mid-sixties, the appeal of this story is obvious. The Yend are one of the most imaginative species created for the annuals, and their plight lends events a rather downbeat tone.

Despite having the whole of time and space to play with, the Doctor finds himself on Vortis, apparently for the first time. Timey-wimey stuff, indeed. The absence of his companions throughout the annual, which is most noticeable whenever the Doctor is required to rescue himself, is one of the problems, taking away the ability to discuss science, history, and other subjects. Without this tether to the series emphasis on intelligent and reasoned exploration of the universe, there isn't the same educational undercurrent which the early stories did so well.

Once again the story concludes with multiple deaths.

Peril in Mechanistria stands as the most intriguing story, detailing a world run by machines - not just any machines, but ones which utilise human brains in their construction. Presaging themes which would be dealt with by the Cybermen, this is a wonderful glimpse into a more nightmarish version of what would appear on the screen. Things are, of course, kept from becoming too scary for younger readers, and the conclusion has a ray of hope which is often absent in the appearance of bio-mechanical integration throughout the series.

An odd, though fascinating, insight into how the series was perceived in the early years.

Doctor Who Annual

[1967]