King of the Castle

 

Bob and Dave couldn’t be more ordinary names for a couple of tv writers who dreamt up some extraordinary concepts in a number of Seventies Doctor Who stories (including inventing K9) and in some of their own children’s series.  King of the Castle is a seven part serial produced by HTV snd shown in 1977. It was one of several keynote productions ostensibly produced for kids though with a broader appeal such as Sky, Raven and Children of the Stones. It may though be the most bizarre of them all- “Kafka for kids” is how Bob Baker himself summarised it acknowledging Franz Kafka’s story The Castle as an influence. Uncommitted viewers may find the heightened scenarios too chaotic to appreciate but the serial was nominated for a BAFTA. Originally meant to be shown on weeknights, transmission was delayed until a slightly later Sunday slot could be found presumably to ensure that parents could keep an eye on it. There are certainly some moments that would disturb younger or more sensitive children especially in the first two episodes. 

 

The series’ name comes from a nursery rhyme and children’s game and the phrase is believed to have originated during the English Civil War of the 1600s. It is that traditional nursery rhyme song that provides the title music sung by a boy’s choir and set against images of both traditional stone architecture and the less appealing Seventies flats. The main character Roland’s name is inspired by the Robert Browning poem Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came, itself inspired by King Lear, and even referenced in episode 6. In turn the poem has inspired several dramatic interpretations notably by Stephen King. Bob and Dave’s story seems to be some kind of nightmare occurring when Roland is knocked unconscious when in a crashing lift so in one sense none of it actually happens. The serial takes us inside an alternative version of Roland’s life where each of the key people appear as different versions of themselves often to extreme proportions as Roland’s subconscious issues manifest themselves in front of him. Their behaviour becomes an exaggerated version of themselves in the real world. Sometimes events have a mirror in the real world such as the explosion of Hawkspur’s laboratory happens as some of the lift circuits suddenly burn out creating a flurry of sparks. Other times they appear unrelated.

 Clearly intended as an allegory for standing up and asserting yourself it’s fantastical elements sometimes shroud its intention and anyone not paying attention may dismiss it as a lot of actors clowning around. Also, by suggesting its central character is a shy, depressed boy then penning dialogue that paints him as confident and assertive somewhat weakens the central tenet. Had this change come about as a result of his experiences that would play better. Adult viewers even then would recognise much of the series’ imagery and plot comes from established mythology or draws from well known antecedents.

 Roland Wright is a teenager whose father and second wife recently moved into the tenth floor of a block of flats to enable him to fulfil a music scholarship granted due to his tenor voice. Music and comics play a big part in Roland’s life – he would rather sneak a peak at the latest horror comic than properly participate in choir practice and he has an impressive Greenslade poster in his bedroom. His father’s a musician, a sax player it seems, with an impressive amount of musical hardware for someone who lives in a council flat. His step mum is a typical nice Seventies step mum who worries about Roland more than his preoccupied father does.

 

The shorthand often given for King of the Castle is how bizarre it becomes after a key incident at the end of the first episode but actually the opener is quite strange in itself. While ostensibly we’re in a typical Seventies working class drama setting the manner in which director Peter Hammond shoots it makes it seem anything but. The camera is often at odd angles, the church in which the choir practice takes place is framed to make the most of it’s atmospheric stonework while some of the adult characters are already larger than life. As choirmaster Spurgeon, Fulton McKay is in eye popping form long before the fantasy elements kick in as he addresses the choir from the elevated seat of the church organ, an instrument that features prominently in the series and which he plays with demented delight. Milton Johns brings his always enjoyable toadying to the role of teacher Hawker complete with a deliberately obvious wig (which Johns lets slip in a lovely comedic moment).

 The caretaker at the flats, Vine, isn’t much more normal and Talfryn Thomas, who often seems like the only Welsh accented actor around in those days, inhabits the role with earnestness. You also get a snarling performance from Jamie Foreman who only has to curl his lip to look menacing. He’s local bully Ripper (probably not his real name) who `owns the stairs` and rather than his favourite band has his own name sewn on the back of his jacket. Playing against all this melodrama, Philip DaCosta settles for normality which really works well. There’s defiance but also fear though I’m not sure he comes across as “shy” as the character is often described. The script instead gives him a cheekiness and also an intelligence that will serve him well as the story progresses.

 He's certainly put upon and after a rollicking from Spurgeon, then having his school briefcase ransacked and school badge torn off an alarmingly stripy blazer (notice the badge depicts a castle!) he takes refuge in the flats’ broken down lifts and part one concludes with it crashing down. The door opens revealing gothic architecture, torches and the scraping of feet as someone is heard turning a key behind a wooden door starts to open…and it carries on behind the credits as the camera jumps a little closer revealing spider’s webs. Just before it cuts off the door starts to open. For the intended young viewer this must have been a fairly exciting ending and even now it plays well. The baroque style Hammond brings to the episode certainly makes it arresting at every moment.

 As an opener it’s hard to imagine how much more could have been put in. It has lashings of atmosphere while Bob and Dave’s script is economical, the dialogue crisp and the scenario outlined without sounding too much like exposition. Some may find the eccentric direction at this point intrudes and there’s certainly an argument that it might have been better to have filmed the first episode in a more standard way so that the world we subsequently enter seems odder. Then again are we even here seeing reality or looking at it through Roland’s eyes? Remember how school teachers always seemed remote and strange when you were at school? Is it Roland who sees in Spurgeon the lively haired madman?

 

Episode two takes us into a subterranean nightmare where the architecture seems to shift and curl not unlike one of those Escher paintings. We meet caretaker’s Vine’s alter ego Vein who carries an enormous cache of keys and it is these that are crucial. In a scene with somewhat elliptical dialogue Roland learns he is “ever so far” down and the only way out is to go up – “ever up” - with the aid of keys he must find along the way. His first encounter takes him into a fizzling laboratory that, like the episode’s storyline, takes its cues from Frankenstein. Here, Doctor Hawkspur, the alternative Spurgeon is experimenting with “life” to create a new human being he’s dubbed Ergon. It’s a word derived from the Greek for “function, task or work” and indeed the first thing  Hawkspur tries to do is teach this creation to bow to him. The next thing is he tries to steal Roland’s voice to give to the creature.

 This somewhat random scientific moment is achieved through a remarkable series of electronic bleeps, picture fades and effects. As soon as it becomes clear how this “new life” will be treated, Roland stands up for him showing his humanity though here the boy’s confidence in the face of such odd circumstances seems the least believable aspect of all. However if he was terrified the drama wouldn’t progress.  This is Milton Johns’ episode though. The actor utilises mime and movement to convey this hastily assembled being with a shock of red hair and director Peter Hammond is eager to show us his expressive face at every opportunity. However absurd this all seems  (and I can imagine parents coming into the room at tea time in 1977 and thinking “what the…”) there’s a surprising poignancy to it. Thanks to Milton Johns’ performance you are drawn in by the sheer bewilderment of Ergon as he behaves like a caged animal longing to be free. The moment when he earns a sort of voice is actually quite moving.

 The episode disguises budgetary limitations by overlaying images on top of each other, fading the picture or other tricks to suggest far more space than was probably available as this is all a studio production with just occasional trips back to the baffled police and caretaker at the flats. Sometimes it looks like shots from some off the wall prog rock tour. With incidental music played on a church organ and sundry bleeps on the soundtrack it sounds like one too! You half expect Peter Gabriel to emerge from a cupboard or something! Unfortunately, this is as avant garde as the presentation gets, subsequent episodes are directed by others with a more straight forward studio based approach. Shame as episode two must rank as one of the weirdest twenty three minutes of Seventies TV!

 After such a vibrant opening, some of the weaknesses of the production are exposed by the third episode. Conventionally directed by Terry Harding it lacks the grand operatic qualities that made the first two parts stand out. It’s also a less involving part of the story. The encounter with Warrior at the start, which Peter Hammond would probably have done something interesting with, just looks clumsy though it’s a nice touch that Ergon saves Roland at his own peril. Before long, Roland dumps Vein preferring to find his own way which leads him into a pink curtained, brightly lit chamber that is the domain of the Lady of the Castle played by Angela Richards who is Roland’s step mother in the real world. I’m not sure why this alter ego would be so unkind as Roland and June seem to get on fine. Here, the Lady tries to imprison him shrinking him to the size of a doll and even selecting doll clothes for him to wear. While this is quite sinister in itself without the eccentric staging of the previous episodes it lacks the menace it should have. The Lady’s abilities are somewhat undefined and Roland’s eventual escape poorly choreographed albeit with some above average CGI effects. Part three was actually wiped from the archive and the extant version was put together from an original VHS copy. Was it wiped because it was so dull I wonder?

 

The fourth episode is better as Roland finds himself in a kitchen whose cowed child slaves declare that “work is freedom.” Roland though finds it all “pointless” as the operations seems to consist of two chefs cooking a random slop with most of the ingredients pushed onto the floor for him to clean up- and it gets put back in the pot. Furthermore this conveyor belt of production seems to be to feed nobody. This is all conveyed rather well and there are some funny moments from Patrick Durkin and David Trevana as the hapless chefs who’s real life counterparts as lift engineers also lighten the tale. Unlike the fugal scenery in part three much effort goes into this set which has the air of a Victorian kitchen though following the logic of the piece I’m not sure who the other children are supposed to represent. Some of them are Warrior’s gang but what about the others?

 Roland is also taking a pleasingly proactive part in escaping again from Warrior and later from the kitchen via a dumb waiter. The latter syncs rather well with the real life lift being winched up manually. Director Leonard White handles the ensemble well and there’ s plenty of sound effects  as a side course. It does seem a bit odd that Vein should be such a major player seemingly able to pop in and out of anywhere but I suppose that is symbolic of the real life Vine’s status as a caretaker.

 In part five Roland is attempting to apply to exit the castle and becomes emmeshed in the type of petty bureaucracy with which anyone who’s ever applied to a large organisation will be familiar with. A wittily conveyed sequence amidst endless booths with each official being played by Derek Smith with the addition of different styled beards it has the tenor of a Monty Python sketch. It’s a spot on portrayal of the way regulations sometimes can stop exactly the sort of thing they are designed to assist.  After cleverly feigning an injury to get through Roland ends up at the top to try and meet the Lord of the Castle. Played by Sean Lynch his real life counterpart is Roland’s Dad and the argument they eventually have is reminiscent of a father / son bust up. You notice Roland’s confidence increasing every episode as he overcomes the various obstacles in his way. By the end of part five he wants to be king of the castle and the sixth episode sees him becoming just that.

 

A neatly concise analysis of the way power acts, the sixth episode sees Roland delaying his departure to enact a series of reforms aimed at righting the wrongs he has encountered. Though well- meant this change to the status quo provokes an unexpectedly hostile response – Vasey can’t deal with the lack of forms, the Lady bemoans a ban on magical practices, the kitchen kids are lost without work and Hawkspur is insulted by the command that he should put his energies into building a lift. Vein is promoted taking him close to the throne and is soon plotting to take the final step up. Simplified it may be but as a sketch on the way that people respond to the use of power it works and provides Philip Da Costa with a chance to expand his acting as Roland becomes proactive and indeed bossy. His demeanour and the script suggests Roland is enjoying his power and won’t be leaving any time soon until, that is, the assorted subjects refuse to co-operate and he has to once again run for his life.

 In real time the lift is finally brought up to reveal that it’s empty suggesting Roland really is somewhere else and what we’ve seen is more than a mere nightmare. The final episode is a successful knitting together of the storylines in the form of  trial in which Vein parades Roland’s supposed misdemeanors in front of a seemingly invisible jury. Each of Vein’s charges takes the opposite interpretation of events to how they really are and gives Talfryn Thomas a lengthy time in the spotlight. Roland can only protest but then his `punishment` turns out to be banishment which means he can “get out” as he has been trying to do from the start. So, in fact Vein has been manipulating everyone on the boy’s behalf all along.

 Once Roland is back in real life we see him emboldened by the experience quitting the choir –“it’s my voice” he declares pointedly, standing up to Ripper who turns out to be less dangerous than he seems and trying to re-establish a more mature relationship with his father. There are hints that a second series might have been planned- Vein’s parting words suggest as much though it is difficult to see what spin could be put on it. What the final episode does do is suggest that Roland’s experiences were more than just a nightmare.

 King of the Castle is a challenging series though perhaps it’s tone and heightened performances would not be appreciated by a modern audience. Its ambitious indeed to try and build a world in essentially six episodes and there are times when the budget is stretched as much as the narrative. Roland’s progress can seem random and the pieces of the puzzle fit together a bit too neatly. Yet there is a real sense that the production was trying to break the mould and make its juvenile audience think.

 King of the Castle Bitz

·       The striking organ music is from Sydney Sagar who also composed the startling choral incidental music for Children of the Stones that year.

·       Milton Johns was the Treasurer of actors’ union Equity for a while. It is unlikely he ever attended a meeting wearing his red wig from this series! His birth name is John Robert Milton. One of his favourites of the series he did was 1972’s The Intruder which oddly was scheduled for release for years but never actually was released.

·       Fulton Mackay was best known for playing a character also called Mackay in Porridge. He could have been the third Doctor Who as he was under consideration for the role in 1969. He was a mentor for a young Brian Cox, now the star of Succession.

·       Talfryn Thomas was Private Cheeseman in the 1973-74 series of Dad’s Army. His character was Welsh. All his characters were Welsh! He was, in fact, Welsh!!

·       As an adult, Philip DaCosta left acting and has enjoyed a successful career in music working as an engineer and producer for artists from Take That to the Military Wives to Bob the Builder! His company is named Crazy Joe Cola after an advert he did as a kid.