Sladen, Elisabeth - Elisabeth Sladen - The Autobiography

Once again we had Maloney in the director’s chair, which just made the event so enjoyable. Bless him – he’s another one no longer with us. I loved him dearly, truly I did, and always had a fantastic time in his company. Like Tom, he had a sense of humour, very left of centre. He would always come out with the most unexpected line. Other times he could be very direct. I remember overhearing him talking to Andrew Rose, my costume designer on Evil .

‘Look, can we make Sarah look a bit more like a girl?’

Hysterical!

He was right, though. The whole ‘journalist’ persona had been well enough established by then – I didn’t need to keep the suits on anymore to be seen as a ‘serious’ woman. In fact, I was already beginning to have a bit more fun with her, to play around a lot more. Sarah had been so strait-laced with Jon and now it was time to let her hair down. We began to find a lot more frilly things for her to wear, the more outlandish the better. After all, I thought, She’s travelling in space now. Who’s to say what’s smart on other planets?

She’s whizzing around the universe in the TARDIS, meeting aliens with eight legs, one eye, fur, clothes, gaudy robes – you name it. Why couldn’t she become a bit more off the wall? So in Planet of Evil I wore a bodice, nothing like I’d ever worn in the show before. And espadrilles – they were all the rage then – cut-off jeans, a short-sleeve puffed jacket. It wasn’t quite so outlandish as Hand of Fear , but we were heading in that direction.

The thing about clothes, of course, is that they can alter your behaviour. It wasn’t planned when I first picked up the script, but I’m sure Sarah is a bit more girly when she’s in more of a fun costume. It seems so natural, why fight it?

I’ve been thinking about the quality of the scripts on Planet of Evil because, as I sit here now, the serial’s writer Louis Marks has just died. It’s very sad seeing those faces from my past fade away. At least with DVDs and videos a bit of them lives on.

I don’t know if Robert asked Louis for a ‘ Jekyll and Hyde meets Forbidden Planet ’ storyline – but that’s what he got. I love it when there are other references in the programme.

Of course the villain of Evil was the actual planet itself. It was quite a clever plot, I think. Extremely forward thinking and ecological – man can’t just ride into town, plunder natural resources and suffer no consequences. The anti-matter creature was very futuristic as well. But I don’t think Philip was terribly impressed with it, actually. Maybe he had imagined something else. I remember watching it on television at the same time as everyone else – I thought it was fine.

One of the bonuses of filming at Ealing is the fact it’s a bona fide film studio. Everything is set up for the director to be at the heart of the action at floor level, not cooped up on an observation deck. I really enjoyed having Maloney up close and personal. It’s one thing having a First translate the director’s ideas, another seeing on his face exactly what he wants before he says it. In that respect Ealing really was just like being on location.

We also had to do some interesting recovery work at the studio. Roger’s vast jungle set was so lifelike and sprawling that Maloney struggled to get the mics anywhere near enough. In the end a lot of our lines on the planet’s surface had to be dubbed later. These days we do this all the time but it was a novelty then. If you don’t time it right, the result looks like a bad foreign film, with lips and words not synching.

Roger’s set might have caused Maloney problems but Terry Walsh couldn’t believe his luck. As soon as we’d finished at Ealing Terry ran round and gathered as many of the exotic plants and fauna as he could carry. That night he crept out into his garden and planted them all within view of the house. The following morning his wife pulled the curtains open – and screamed, ‘Terry, Terry, you’ll never believe what’s growing in the garden!’

Poor Terry lost his wife quite young. That’s when you find out who your friends are. I got a call one day from Jon Pertwee. ‘We must look after him. We’ll have to take him round the conventions with us,’ he said. It was a sweet thing to do. Jon could be very considerate like that.

* * *

As much as I enjoyed Planet of Evil , by the time we wrapped mid-July I was ready for a break. Seven serials in a row – that’s thirty-two episodes, one after the other – was a punishing schedule. Worse still, we had fourteen more episodes to film before the block was over. I pored over the calendar with Brian. If we were cute we could actually finagle a few days away. Of course the problem is, as soon as you start imagining these things they just snowball in your mind. I couldn’t wait.

First, I had another treat to look forward to. Tom and I were invited to lunch at the Garrick Club by the bosses of BBC Enterprises – the commercial arm of the Beeb. Lovely Terry Sampson was there, Lorne Martin and the head honcho himself, Peter Dimmock. Obviously it’s a pleasure to be taken to lunch anyway, but beforehand Tom and I gossiped about why we were being summoned.

‘Maybe they just want to thank us for being amazing,’ he suggested.

‘Do you think so?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

There always has to be a catch with the BBC – you just need to find out what it is.

We had a drink and a chit-chat before Terry broke the news.

‘We’d love you both to turn on this year’s Blackpool Illuminations.’

Crikey, I thought only famous people were invited to do that .’ But you are famous,’ they insisted. ‘And you’ll be even more famous once you’ve done this.’

Over the next few years we were followed by such luminaries as Terry Wogan, Kermit the Frog and Red Rum – which gives you an idea of how the Doctor and Sarah were viewed by the world at large.

Back at the Garrick, they really gave us the hard sell and I admit it was tempting (I’d already had a taste of what the Blackpool crowds could be like with Jon). Then I remembered Tangiers.

‘Look, I’m sorry, I’ve got to have a break. Tom doesn’t need me there – people only want to see the Doctor anyway.’

At this Peter Dimmock leapt straight in there. ‘Lis, we need you! Tom hasn’t really been established yet, you’re the one people know. You have to do it.’

Tom looked at me and said, ‘Well yes, I suppose that’s true. I’ve only been around five minutes. They love you, Elisabeth.’

I was flattered, certainly but was my ego more important than a few rare days away with my husband? Not even close.

‘Look, I’m sorry, I really am. But if I go to Blackpool I can’t take my break, and I really need it – I’m exhausted.’

Terry gave me his most diplomatic look. ‘Lis, I understand. Don’t make a decision now, talk it over with Brian – we’ll pay for him to go as well, obviously. Let us know tomorrow.’

‘Fine,’ I said. But my mind was already made up – I’d leave it twenty-four hours before giving them the bad news.

When I got home I was even more adamant that I’d soon be in Tangiers. Then the phone rang: it was Mum. She sounded like she’d won the pools.

‘Oh, Elisabeth,’ she gushed. ‘I’ve just had the most charming call from Terry Sampson. He has asked your dad and me to come down to Blackpool to watch you turn on the lights!’

‘ Really ?’

‘Oh yes, we can’t wait!’

I hung up, feeling thoroughly outmanoeuvred. Mum had never sounded happier. All I could think was, Sampson, you swine!

Chapter Ten