Ray Cusick and the design of The Keys of Marinus
We’ve reached the sixtieth anniversary of the broadcast of The Keys of Marinus, a story I enjoy whilst acknowledging that in many respects it isn’t really very good. I’m particularly fascinated by how the excessive demands of the scripts for sets and special effects were realised by the design team, led by Ray Cusick.
In the extra features on the DVD of The Keys of Marinus, a morose Cusick reported that he had no pride in any of his design work on this story. His opinion is understandable, given that the BBC’s scenic resources were not equal to the demands of the script, but I argue that it wasn’t Cusick or any of his team at fault and their contribution is unfairly underrated.
The initial island setting is well-realised and the model work is excellent. A beach of glass and an acid sea were never going to be easy to depict, but the set for this is as good as could be hoped for, with the spiky rocks being particularly effective in suggesting the sharpness of broken glass. The set’s only failing is in its size, being so small that the Doctor and Ian apparently stumble across the Voord submarines despite them having been in sight for ages. The submarines themselves are surprisingly good for such briefly-seen bits of set-dressing.
The pyramid interior sets have some nice details, such as the vertical tapering of the corridors and the triangular internal door mirroring the external pyramid shape, helping to reinforce the idea that the studio set really is the interior of the model. The conscience machine itself is very impressive as a large structure of clear Perspex and tubing, and passes as advanced alien technology.
The hastily cobbled-together demise of the cardboard cut-out Voord was, however, a mistake, but is seen only very briefly. This was Cusick’s own suggestion as he was concerned that it shouldn’t appear as if the Voord that falls through a wall-trap had merely disappeared into a cupboard. Perhaps a prolonged scream with the Voord’s demise left off-screen would have been wiser – but ultimately it was for the director John Gorrie not Cusick to make such a call.
The dual sets for Morphoton are generally excellent. The hallucinated luxury versions are appropriately lavish, with drapes and statues, and have an impressive scale. They look better still in the colour set photos, appearing genuinely luxurious and decadent. The contrast with the dirty, decrepit ‘true’ settings is suitably stark.
The weird and creepy design of the Morpho brain creatures in their jars successfully draws the viewer’s attention away from the fact that the bulk of their setting is largely comprised of black drapes and stock items. The brain creatures themselves are supported on a surface that appears to be a curved pub bar from the scenery store.
The sets for The Screaming Jungle are reasonable, with the Indian-inspired idol being a visually interesting centrepiece. It’s a minor point but the jungle floor is covered with soil and leaves, which helps convince that this is an outdoor setting, unlike some later studio-based forests seen in the series where the smooth studio floor can be seen. Any disappointments in the realisation of this episode can be attributed to the number of special effects required for the jungle’s traps and aggressive plants, which could never all have been pulled-off perfectly in the time allotted.
The city of Millenius has some nice design touches, primarily in the courtroom, with a variety of levels for its seating and the unusual shape of the judges’ chairs, which all create visual interest. The swastika-like emblems on the walls reinforce the harsh, authoritarian nature of the society depicted – where an accused is guilty until proved innocent. The other Millenius sets are more basic but perfectly adequate.
The scenery is at its poorest in the sequences set in Marinus’s snowy wastes, with the ice caves being particularly problematic. There is nothing wrong with the design as such, bar the materials chosen for construction. On the DVD, Cusick explains how he used a covering of cellophane to give the impression of ice. Unfortunately, this doesn’t work, and looks like what it is. Worse, it makes the sound of crunching cellophane whenever one of the cast makes contact with it, which further destroys the illusion. However, it’s hard to think what else he could have done with the resources available. As it was, he reused elements of a light entertainment show to make the tunnels to save on the budget.
The fact that Cusick could not spend more time or money on any one group of sets is the only thing preventing any of them being more successful than they are. This is due to Terry Nation’s script and one wonders why his storyline was allowed to proceed with so many different settings. Story editor David Whittaker or producer Verity Lambert should have intervened.
Later in the 1960s, producer Innes Lloyd decreed that writers should aim to use one large main set, with only a few smaller supplementary sets, to enable the most effective use of design resources. Clearly no one had thought of that at this early point and Nation does the exact opposite, pushing the design budget beyond breaking point. Cusick clearly did a good enough job that Nation wasn’t dissuaded from employing a similar peripatetic episodic narrative for The Chase, and then The Daleks’ Master Plan, both of which Cusick also worked on.
A happier counterpoint to Cusick’s expression of disappointment with his work in the DVD featurette is his earlier Myth Makers interview from 1998, in which he recalls enjoying working on this story specifically because of its variety.
If the blame must be apportioned for any poor design work on show here, it should be Nation, Whitaker and Lambert taking the lion’s share for asking the impossible. Cusick is exonerated and we should celebrate the impressive achievements of his work on this story for how much of it does work very well.
Images © BBC
Sources
Myth Makers interview with Ray Cusick
Ray Cusick interview ‘The Sets of Marinus’ on the BBC DVD of The Keys of Marinus
This is an updated version of an article originally published in Panic Moon in January 2012.