Quatermass Rising: The Impact and Influence of Quatermass - Part One
Bernard Quatermass is always waiting. Peek into the history of Hammer and Brian Donlevy’s iteration strides forward and tersely explains his importance. Explore the BBC’s early days or the development of British science fiction, and André Morell saunters into view to gently and modestly outline the Professor’s contribution. In fact, Nigel Kneale’s multi-faceted, multi-faced hero is so often hailed as a major influence that it’s tempting to leave the acknowledgement unchallenged.
And so to celebrate the release of The Quatermass Xperiment (1955) and Quatermass 2 (1957), in this special feature we examine the Quatermass impact. How did this planet-saving scientist affect the sci-fi that followed him? What went before his debut? And was his influence really that great?
Film-makers had long realised the potential offered by science fiction, with Georges Méliès’s 1902 short, A Trip to the Moon (also known as Le Voyage dans la Lune) often cited as the world’s first sci-fi movie. It may look creaky now, but at the time of its release it was a must-see adventure loaded with the latest special effects. Technically complex and wildly expensive, it’s claimed much of its narrative was stolen from the works of H.G. Wells, which would be ironically appropriate as it was certainly the shape of things to come.
Fritz Lang’s majestic Metropolis (1927) and James Whale’s 1931 adaptation of Frankenstein (now there’s an idea) were notable amongst other early sci-fi forays onto the silver screen, whilst radio got on the act in the early 30s. Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, the first ever science fiction program on ‘on the wireless’ premiered across the US on CBS during November 1932, initially going out as 15-minute instalments complete with imaginative sound effects and improbable cliffhangers. People loved it and the Buck didn’t stop for over 800 episodes.
A tense moment from the BBC’s The Quatermass Experiment.
It took television a little time to catch up, but prior to 1953’s The Quatermass Experiment, BBC tv had been flirting with science fiction for years. On 11 February 1938, less than a decade after the Corporation’s first regular television service was rolled out, it broadcast a one-off called R.U.R., an adaptation of a section of Karel Čapek’s 1920 play of the same name. The programme clocked in at a relatively paltry 35-minutes, and no recordings of it are known to exist. Yet it earns a place in the history books as the first piece of science fiction to be broadcast on television anywhere on the planet.
More followed, but the BBC’s relationship with sci-fi felt more like a dalliance than a full-on affair. In May 1939 they televised an adaptation of the Čapek brothers’ The Insect Play, a story about a man who finds himself living amongst insects, which although not ‘classic’ science fiction, certainly contains many tropes of the genre.
The BBC’s television service was suspended ‘for the duration’ less than four months later, but in 1948 a second adaptation of R.U.R. was broadcast, this one a more ambitious 90-minute version which looked to bring the entire play, and not just a chunk of it, to the small screen. The following January an adaptation of H.G. Wells’s The Time Machine premiered with striking special effects, most famously where the central character takes his trip through time itself – a scene that included an early use of back projection to depict the journey.
The Professor (Brian Donlevy – left) keeps a close eye on Victor (Richard Wordsworth) in The Quatermass Xperiment.
All these milestones are important in contextualising The Quatermass Experiment. Of course, Nigel Kneale’s 6-part serial was not the first piece of sci-fi to be broadcast. As mentioned, the genre was well-established in cinema, television and radio long before Victor Carroon began to feel a little alienated. And the genre itself had been around for literally centuries, with authors like Francis Bacon, Johannes Kepler and Athanasius Kircher writing pioneering work in the 1600s.
But Quatermass feels undeniably different to everything that came before it. For one thing, it was specifically written for tv, drawing on the medium’s strengths, immediacy and timings. Many dramas of the day were simply radio programmes with pictures, whereas Quatermass was visual and vital. Director Rudolph Cartier created a work which at times looks cinematic in its scale and reach. Kneale’s script piled on the jeopardy and used topicality, such as the Westminster Abbey setting, references to the Blitz, and the whole ‘space race’ premise to create something recognisably current.
R.U.R., The Time Machine and other antecedents were based on books and other pre-existing works. Kneale based his drama on now. The people he depicts are versions of us, flawed and flailing, complete with vanity, illicit affairs, and self-interest, as opposed to upright figures from another era, who no matter how well drawn, inevitably feel distant. The Quatermass Experiment is in part a dark reflection of society. It could almost be called a black mirror. The immediate effect it had upon the landscape of UK television was staggering.
Staggeringly small.
After the show instantly achieved high critical acclaim and public popularity, viewers might have anticipated noticeable shifts in the BBC’s approach to sci-fi. But the changes weren’t seismic. In fact the ground barely moved and the minimum requirement – a sequel series following the further adventures of Professor Quatermass – wasn’t exactly rushed into production. The audience was forced to wait over two years before Bernard was back, and even then, it was for a miserly six episodes. Another three years passed before the third series was aired, and over two decades elapsed before ITV’s Quatermass concluded the saga in 1979.
Julie Christie in A for Andromeda. The Radio Times (dated 30th September 1961) hailed the series, ‘a major television event’.
The scarcity of Quatermass episodes is baffling. To put it into perspective, when the BBC’s science fiction series, A for Andromeda, achieved ratings around the 10 million mark in 1961, despite the lead character’s apparent death and the unavailability of Julie Christie, who’d played her, a follow-up, The Andromeda Breakthrough, was on screens only six months later.
And when Doctor Who took off after its second serial introduced the Daleks, the show’s popularity ensured a follow-up season which aired from 31 October 1964 to 24 July 1965. In that 9-month run alone, 9 stories, comprising a total of 39 parts were broadcast, meaning that in one single season, Doctor Who notched up more than double the number of television episodes that the BBC ever made of Quatermass, including the 2005 remake.
Contractually, the BBC were under no obligation to exclusively stick with Kneale to continue the exploits of the British Experimental Rocket Group, and it’s fascinating to conjecture what a Professor Quatermass series would have looked like if launched in the mid-50s.
A lobby card promoting The Quatermass Xperiment to audiences in Mexico.
Film studios showed no such reluctance to move forward with the franchise. Hammer’s Tony Hinds watched the serial and immediately discerning its suitability for cinema, made sure that contact was established with the BBC, and after seeing off competition from other organisations, movie-rights were quickly secured. Less than 14 months after the final episode was screened in the UK, shooting for the big screen version was underway in Bray and London. It premiered in September 1955, several weeks before the BBC launched Quatermass II.
Hammer’s The Quatermass Xperiment was a smash hit with audiences and critics alike. The News Chronicle epitomised the feelings of many when declaring, ‘This is the best and nastiest horror film that I have seen since the war.’ The Manchester Guardian was slightly more measured – ‘A lively piece of science fiction…’, a sentiment echoed by Today’s Cinema which called it, ‘one of the best essays in science fiction to date’. Stateside reviewers were, in the main, equally impressed, with Variety observing, ‘Val Guest’s direction brings out the maximum suspense factors’.
By the end of 1955, the whole world was watching…
And so, as 1955 ended, Quatermass was no longer simply The Quatermass Experiment. It was now much more than a one-off six-parter enjoyed in the UK during several summer evenings, shortly after the Coronation. The serial had been as unique and as British as that royal occasion, but it was now much more.
It was a returning series for the BBC and more importantly, in terms of global recognition, it was a successful movie that had kept audiences rapt from the Isle of Man to Mexico. Like the alien force in the film, its power and reach were growing. But unlike that entity, Quatermass would only become stronger – and unstoppable!
In Part Two we’ll be examining how Quatermass impacted on films and TV in the 60s and beyond. We’ll also be talking to Derek Ritchie, a former Doctor Who producer (and current producer of the BBC’s The Capture) to get an insight into how Quatermass guided the Time Lord’s travels and how he continues to have an influence on current drama.
Finally, a quick reminder that you can check out Hammer’s Quatermass Collection, which includes Limited Collector’s Editions of both The Quatermass Xperiment and Quatermass 2, plus brand new merch, all available now.
