Chris McKeon returns with the third and final part of his look at the Brigadier's influence, and absence, in Nu Who. Taking us full circle, back to his very first appearance.
My
Dad often has this perspective to share: ‘If you don’t have a health problem,
you don’t have a problem.’ Well, Nicholas Courtney had a problem, and a pretty
terrible one. In January 2009, the legendary actor suffered a stroke and
therefore could no longer take part in filming his return appearance for The Sarah Jane Adventures, series three.
When that two-part adventure aired on 29 and 30 October 2009, the Tenth Doctor
alone saved Sarah. Sir Alistair was again on assignment in Peru.
Nicholas Courtney - a true gentleman. |
Over
five years after this televised loss, I still cannot completely describe or
dwell upon how much Courtney’s absence devastated my feelings as a fan and as a
person. As a Brigadier fan I was heartbroken, shocked and deep in mourning:
what should have been a celebrated reunion between two beloved television icons
became an omission, an emptiness, an inexplicable loss. Even when Clyde Langer
informed the viewer of Sir Alistair’s Peruvian whereabouts during Sarah’s
wedding I felt my emotions almost swell with helpless turmoil. Even now, I
still feel that story should have given the Brigadier’s absence a greater sense
of loss and longing, maybe at least one moment where the Tenth Doctor asks
someone, ‘Where’s the Brigadier?’
But
on the personal level I felt worse for Nicholas Courtney and his well-being. I
was not a personal friend or a family friend, or even a distant acquaintance,
but the man and his character had been and still was – and is – one of my
childhood heroes, perhaps in some ways more than the Doctor, simply because
there was only one Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. And it was suddenly
very real that he was a nearly eighty-year-old man.
One
silver-lining in this darkening time for Brigadier fans was when the character
managed to make one final on-screen appearance in a BBC-produced mini-episode, Liberty Hall, filmed in the early autumn
of 2008 as part of the Mawdryn Undead
DVD release for the following year. The nostalgic, seven-minute story features
the Brigadier’s return to Brendan School to share some vague details of his
storied UNIT career with a local reporter, including some sly references to the
1995 BBV-produced drama Downtime, as
well as a few of the Big Finish audio adventures. When I watched that
mini-episode I felt such a joyous swell to see Nicholas Courtney in, if not
action, then at least in presence once more.
Sir Alistair returns for 'Liberty Hall' |
But
every presence, no matter how welcome, fades to black, even for the Brigadier. Nicholas
Courtney’s health struggles in 2009 and 2010 are now a matter of public record
and private feelings, and of which I don’t wish to dwell too much. It suffices
to write that although the good man eventually recovered from his stroke and
bravely continued to attend various conventions and public appearances
throughout 2009, by the early months of 2010 he announced an even graver health
condition, that of cancer. This affliction was the final monster, the last
battle for the storied gentleman and cultural hero, who entered hospice care in
the final days of 2010 before dying peacefully on 22 February, 2011.
Before
his death Nicholas Courtney never returned to Doctor Who or The Sarah Jane
Adventures, although the character was mentioned once more during
Courtney’s lifetime in latter programme’s fourth series adventure Death of the Doctor (according to
Russell T Davies’s book The Writer’s Tale,
Courtney was approached to feature in that story but the actor’s then rapidly
failing health prohibited any further filming). In the months following
Courtney’s death there was a tremendous online outpouring of grief and
remembrance for the actor as a professional and as a gentleman. I was at the
time too devastated to share my feelings too much online, but almost exactly a
year later I had the privilege of being selected to participate in the Nicholas
Courtney tribute panel at the GallifreyOne convention in Los Angeles,
California in February 2012. It was there I had the chance, before a few kind
people, to share how much Nicholas Courtney and his famous character had meant
to me as a child and as a young adult: that alongside my Dad and Grandfathers,
I wanted to be the type of person that Nicholas Courtney had been, someone good
and kind of whom other people spoke well. And I told the audience that it was
my childhood dream to be not like the Doctor but to be like the Brigadier.
In
the months following Nicholas Courtney’s there as for me as a Doctor Who fan a sense of deep loss but
also of cautious hope. For even without Nicholas Courtney to return onscreen as the Brigadier there was
the knowledge that the series would continue and in such a vast and
ever-possible vault of fiction there was still room for some future
expectations. Indeed, I consoled myself with the certainty that although the
actor had died the character of the Brigadier was still alive out there in the
Doctor’s reality and perhaps would reunite with the Eleventh Doctor and his
successors one future day in other story-telling media, such as the comics,
novels or audiobooks.
But
when the finale for Doctor Who’s
sixth series, The Wedding of River Song,
aired on 1 October 2011, I received one of the worst shocks I have ever
experienced as a Doctor Who fan. Matt
Smith’s Doctor learned by telephone that the Brigadier had died some months
earlier. I will be very honest: although at the time I could see why the series
decided to pay tribute to Courtney’s passing by having the Brigadier also pass
away, I also felt it was somehow wrong or off. Perhaps it was how the Brigadier
died that disturbed me: he waited every day for the Doctor’s return but the
Doctor never came. Or perhaps it was the sense that there was no need to kill
off the character of the Brigadier in-universe to honour the actor’s passing,
such as when the series had honoured the passing of Elisabeth Sladen with a
memorial title card after the airing of The
Impossible Astronaut but explicitly kept Sladen’s character of Sarah alive
in later-produced spin-off media. It may be enough to say that I hope not to
see another Doctor Who episode with
the words ‘The Wedding of’ in its title.
Now
I am still a Doctor Who fan and I
will be always be a fan. But I cannot deny that on some emotional level I enjoy
the programme less without the Brigadier, without the chance that maybe,
perhaps, possibly, somewhere, some-when, the character can and might return. Not
even the main-series debut of Sir Alistair’s daughter Kate in the series seven
episode The Power of Three on 22
September 2012 could shift my sense that something fundamental was missing
within the contextual structure and sentiment of Doctor Who. Perhaps that sense stems from my perception that Kate Stewart
oversees a very different, almost overly-scientific version of UNIT, or perhaps
it is my extreme difficulty in believing that even in his final days Sir
Alistair would ever declare that science leads over soldiering. Or maybe, at
the end of the day, a cosmos without the Brigadier is just unthinkable.
This
thought brings me to a final point of discussion regarding the Brigadier’s
status in the new series. When Doctor
Who’s eighth series concluded on 8 November 2014 there was already a massive
stir and shift amongst fandom, thanks to the introduction of a new, female
version of the Master (which definitely holds enough material for another
article). During the episode Death in
Heaven, the Twelfth Doctor, as played by Peter Capaldi, was reunited once
more Kate Stewart and UNIT. As had happened when Kate and UNIT appeared in the
50th anniversary episode The
Day of the Doctor, there was a lovely picture of Lethbridge-Stewart on
display to recall the great man’s legacy. And then, without going into too much
detail for those who haven’t yet seen the episode, both Kate and the Doctor’s
life were in turn saved by a lone Cyberman, a Cyberman who somehow reminded
Kate of her father and who reminded the Doctor of his oldest friend.
The Doctor salutes Sir Alistair, finally. |
I
cannot yet say exactly how I feel about this moment. On the one hand there is
the distinct sense that the Brigadier is still alive and out there in the
Doctor’s reality once more, which should give me nothing but joy. But I cannot
forget that this version of Sir Alistair came about through a rather gruesome
and horrific process of Cyber-Conversion, and that what remains is arguably not
the Brigadier at all but a friendly ghost. And the thought of Sir Alistair as
an eternally wandering ghost is too terrible to consider. I suppose my best
takeaway thought is while I am grateful for some version of the Brigadier, I
don’t really want to see CyberBrig again.
All
I know for certain is that the Doctor needs Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart
and Doctor Who needs the Brigadier. I
know I am not the only fan who holds this to be true. When the announcement
came in October 2013 that nine previously-thought lost Second Doctor television
episodes had been discovered in Africa, what I read in blog posts and forum
exclamations to be the most tangible and ebullient rejoicing amongst fandom was
that five of these recovered episodes were from The Web of Fear, the very first appearance of Colonel
Lethbridge-Stewart. I feel that one particular YouTube comment that I read
summarizes this sensational time perfectly: ‘The Brigadier. I’m going to cry.’ And
I’m not ashamed to say when I saw The Web
of Fear for the first time I cried, too.
So
now, with the first of Lethbridge-Stewart’s episodes restored and the most
recent episode of Doctor Who
featuring a return-of-sorts of the Brigadier, it feels that now is a time of
rising and renewed interest in the Doctor’s best military friend. And in a few
short months there will be a new narration of the Brigadier’s life: On 8
December 2014, Type 40’s own Andy Frankham-Allen announced the upcoming
publication of the Lethbridge-Stewart
novels, which will cover the events in the Brigadier’s life after the events of
The Web of Fear. The series has
received full approval and licensing from the estate of Mervyn Haisman and the
endorsement of Henry Lincoln, who are the co-creators of Lethbridge-Stewart.
The first novel, titled The Forgotten Son,
will be available out on 22 February 2015, the fourth anniversary of Nicholas
Courtney’s death, and will also feature the return of the Great Intelligence,
the principal villain of the classic series adventures The Abominable Snowmen and The
Web of Fear, as well as the 2012/2013 series episodes The Snowmen and The Name of
the Doctor. I’m looking forward to purchasing my copy of this and
subsequent novels and I’m confident that through this book range new fans of Doctor Who will come to learn just how
fundamentally important Lethbridge-Stewart is to the programme.
Returning to where it all began... |
And
this now begs the question: will the Brigadier return again? Before Death in Heaven I would have said no, at
least not onscreen. But now that Steven Moffat has, to be very honest, risked
the feelings of fandom by reviving and cyber-converting one of the programme’s
most, if not the most, beloved iconic
characters after already giving the character an on-screen farewell, then it
easily stands to reason that he could and perhaps should recast the role. And who
could possibly fill Nicholas Courtney’s UNIT boots? That, like all important
and, I feel, necessary decisions I leave to the experts,
just as long as they make sure he can hit five rounds rapid.
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