Writer: Nigel Kneale; Director: Rudolph Cartier
This piece was substantially revised and updated in 2014.
The creative partnership of television dramatist Nigel Kneale and producer/director Rudolph Cartier is best known for originating the three Quatermass serials of the 1950s and 1954’s adaptation of George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, but it achieved much more besides.1 One of their lesser-known productions was The Creature from early 1955.2 The primary reason for the play’s neglect is that no recording exists so, unlike Nineteen Eighty-Four and most of the episodes of the Quatermass serials, it is no longer available to view. This article aims to challenge The Creature’s obscurity, using surviving scripts, production anecdotes and contemporaneous audience research data to present an account of the play, its innovations and the reactions it elicited from viewers and critics.
Nineteen Eighty-Four, tx. 12 and 16 December 1954. The three Quatermass serials of the 1950s were: The Quatermass Experiment, six episodes, tx. 18 July to 22 August 1953; Quatermass II, six episodes, tx. 22 October to 26 November 1955; and Quatermass and the Pit, six episodes, tx. 22 December 1958 to 26 January 1959. All programmes referenced in this article were broadcast on the BBC’s sole television channel, unless indicated otherwise. ↩
The Creature, tx. 30 January and 3 February 1955. ↩
Writer:<\/strong> Nigel Kneale; Director:<\/strong> Rudolph Cartier<\/p>\n This piece was substantially revised and updated in 2014.<\/em><\/p>\n The creative partnership of television dramatist Nigel Kneale and producer\/director Rudolph Cartier is best known for originating the three Quatermass<\/em> serials of the 1950s and 1954\u2019s adaptation of George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em>, but it achieved much more besides.1<\/a><\/sup> One of their lesser-known productions was The Creature<\/em> from early 1955.2<\/a><\/sup> The primary reason for the play\u2019s neglect is that no recording exists so, unlike Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em> and most of the episodes of the Quatermass<\/em> serials, it is no longer available to view. This article aims to challenge The Creature<\/em>\u2019s obscurity, using surviving scripts, production anecdotes and contemporaneous audience research data to present an account of the play, its innovations and the reactions it elicited from viewers and critics.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Even as the national controversy caused by Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em>\u2019s sex, politics and violence played out in the British press at the end of 1954, Kneale and Cartier were well underway with the pre-production of The Creature<\/em>. Rather than another adaptation, it was a wholly original script which Kneale had been inspired to write by the recent resurgence of interest in the mystery of the Himalayan \u2018yeti\u2019. Introducing his play for the Radio Times<\/em>, Kneale wrote:<\/p>\n A year ago a London newspaper sent a fully-equipped expedition specifically to search for it. Again tracks were found, but not what made them. Is there, after all, some prosaic explanation for the footprints? Or does the yeti exist? If so, what can it be? The Creature<\/em>, in purely fictional terms, is a guess at the answers.3<\/a><\/sup> <\/p><\/blockquote>\n Kneale\u2019s intelligent exploration of the Abominable Snowman legend featured Peter Cushing, who had just played Winston Smith in Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em>, as Dr John Rollason, a botanist from the Professor Quatermass school of likeable humanitarian scientists. While working with plant specimens in a Tibetan monastery he meets up with a team lead by the American Tom Friend (played by Stanley Baker). Together they mount an expedition to find the yeti, eventually succeeding. Rollason reasons that the creatures represent a branch of evolution parallel to humanity, with mankind, the great ape species and the yeti all developing from the same starting point in the Indian subcontinent around a million years earlier. He theorises that the yeti therefore has some form of affinity with humans. He wonders whether the creatures are on the point of extinction, or perhaps hiding away waiting for the warlike mankind to wipe itself out before reclaiming the world.<\/p>\n It is revealed that Friend\u2019s intentions are more commercial than scientific; he plans to make his fortune by trapping and exhibiting an Abominable Snowman. After they kill one yeti, the creatures repel the expedition with their telepathic powers. All ultimately die \u2013 through fear or accidents caused by their panic \u2013 except Rollason, who has not threatened the yeti. On his return to the monastery he informs the Lama (Arnold Marl\u00e9), who appears to have some form of spiritual connection with the creatures, that the yeti does not exist. \u201cIt isn\u2019t what\u2019s out there that\u2019s dangerous, so much as \u2013 what\u2019s in us\u201d, states Rollason towards the end, a theory Kneale returned to for Quatermass and the Pit<\/em> (1958-59).4<\/a><\/sup> <\/p>\n The other members of the cast were Eric Pohlmann as the trapper Pierre Brosset, Simon Lack as Andrew McPhee and Wolfe Morris as Nima Kusang, with extras as monks, musicians and \u2018Devil Dancers\u2019. The play was designed by Barry Learoyd, who had also recently worked on Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em>. Strangely, the names of three of the characters changed, for reasons unknown, at a late stage in production. The rehearsal script had Ang Thomay instead of Kusang, the trapper was Ed Shelley and McPhee was known as Arthur McNee.<\/p>\n With Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em> having brought more press scrutiny to bear on the BBC\u2019s television drama department than ever before, it is perhaps unsurprising \u2013 particularly given both its outlandish subject and the involvement of Kneale and Cartier \u2013 that The Creature<\/em> was referred to in newsprint well ahead of transmission. It was scheduled for a Sunday evening live broadcast with a second performance the following Thursday (again live, not from a recording), as was the usual pattern then for each week\u2019s major drama production. One of the main criticisms of Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em>, which had been broadcast in this pattern, was that its was shown on a Sunday, with such strong content considered by many inappropriate on a day then associated with families and religious observance. The People<\/em> newspaper claimed, inaccurately, that The Creature<\/em> would be deferred from its proposed Sunday broadcast because of its \u201chorrific\u201d scenes, following a BBC review of its drama policy.5<\/a><\/sup> <\/p>\n In the wake of the Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em> protests, Michael Barry<\/a>, the BBC\u2019s head of television drama, had spoken on television about his department\u2019s scheduling of plays.6<\/a><\/sup> He reported that there had been instances of plays found unsuitable for a Sunday being transmitted on an alternative day, with this move then attracting criticism from those wanting the play on a Sunday.7<\/a><\/sup> In view of this, it\u2019s unsurprising that The Creature<\/em>\u2019s proposed Sunday broadcast slot was left unchanged, though it\u2019s impossible to know whether any parts of the script were toned down following the Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em> protests. The Daily Mail<\/em> previewed The Creature<\/em>, quoting Barry, who, perhaps in an effort to discourage negative publicity about its potentially disturbing scenes, emphasised the play\u2019s character-based drama and, slightly inaccurately, reported that its expedition would not find the Abominable Snowman.8<\/a><\/sup> <\/p>\n The production was allowed a substantial amount of filming to supplement the modest studio facilities available for the otherwise live transmission. Location filming was essential to establish the mountainous environment of the play, though Barry was uneasy with Cushing\u2019s involvement in this filming, fearing for the star\u2019s safety, and suggested a double be used instead. Cushing disliked the use of doubles and the loss of continuity of performance that this entailed, and wrote to Barry to personally assure him of his preference to take part in the location expedition.9<\/a><\/sup> <\/p>\n The first week of 1955 saw Cartier and his film crew \u2013 plus Cushing \u2013 visit the Swiss Alps, which doubled as the Himalayas, to shoot exterior sequences. Cartier later recalled how good fortune resolved a production problem on location. The airline transporting the BBC crew refused, on safety grounds, to carry the production\u2019s stock of magnesium flares, required for the night sequences. Once at their hotel in the mountains, Cartier learned from one of the local guides that a factory manufacturing such flares was located in a nearby valley and was able to arrange for a small stock of the flares to be sent up on the next train, just in time for filming.10<\/a><\/sup> Further inserts were recorded at the BBC\u2019s Lime Grove studios in West London upon the team\u2019s return from Switzerland.11<\/a><\/sup> <\/p>\n It is perhaps ironic that for this production Cartier could take his cameras no nearer the Himalayas than the Alps, given that he had significant prior experience of filming in the Himalayas. In 1934, Cartier had joined Professor Dr G\u00fcnther Dyhrenfurth\u2019s second International Himalayan Expedition in the capacity of \u201cscenario-writer\u201d, presumably in relation to the films to be shot during the expedition.12<\/a><\/sup> <\/p>\n Although not necessarily an entirely accurate guide to what eventually appeared on screen, the rehearsal script suggests the use of 14 film sequences in all, not including a looped piece of blizzard footage which was superimposed over live action at various points. Whilst some of these were the brief location sequences establishing the Himalayas setting, others were lengthier, involving action and stunts or the use of filmic tricks to progress the narrative. For example, an early sequence of 16 shots involves a near-fall into a crevasse, while a later run of 14 shots uses montage to establish the passage of time as the expedition treks the mountains. A late sequence of 16 shots, including a subjective point-of-view shot, depicts the wounded and mad McNee\/McPhee trying to climb a perilous rock face and falling to his death.<\/p>\n More simplistic filmed sequences allowed the number of sets required in the studio for the live performance to be kept to a minimum. Others involved lighting effects and pyrotechnics to achieve night scenes illuminated by flares, or snowfall and the discharge of firearms, which could not have been executed in the electronic studio for practical and technical reasons. Similarly, the shot of a live ape caught in a yeti trap could only practically have been accomplished on film. The number of film sequences, which was much higher than for most television productions of the period, and their use to progress the story rather than simply bridge live sequences, is indicative of the ambitious use of the medium that Kneale and Cartier both favoured.<\/p>\n Cartier wasn\u2019t just inventive in his use of pre-filmed sequences, but also in his staging of the live action in the television studio on the evenings of transmission. For example, a trick of perspective was employed to exaggerate the height of the yeti on screen. For the scene of Rollason coming face-to-face with the creature, Cartier had a diminutive actor dress in a duplicate of Cushing\u2019s costume. Shot from behind the actor, it seemed that the yeti – really about six feet tall – towered several feet over Rollason. Dialogue in the script suggested the creatures were ten feet tall and described the head of a dead yeti, seen in close-up, as: \u201clong, very narrow. The forehead is high, the face not unlike that of a \u201chorse-faced\u201d human, but covered with fine, grey hair. The mouth thrusts forward, but the lips are thin. There is little ape-like about it.\u201d13<\/a><\/sup> One example of the careful planning required for live production is the recommendation made in the script directions that the off-screen sound effects representing a mechanical trap being set might as well be provided by the actual sound of the props being set up in the studio, because there was no other opportunity to put those props in place.<\/p>\n The 90-minute play was broadcast from Lime Grove studios on Sunday 30 January, with a short \u2018interval\u2019 approximately half-way through, which was the normal practice for feature-length television plays at the time. The whole production was recreated in the studio for the customary live repeat the following Thursday evening. As was the danger with attempting such an ambitious drama live, The Creature<\/em> suffered a minor on-air blunder. In 1959 Kneale wryly recalled how an over-zealous stage-hand appeared behind the ice cave set, sweeping up the snow. Although warned off, he apparently appeared again during the live repeat.14<\/a><\/sup> Kneale\u2019s recollection of the stage-hand\u2019s unwelcome intrusion, in the first performance at least, was corroborated by the BBC\u2019s Audience Research Report on the play. Several of the sample group of viewers reported that \u201cmovement at the back of the cave (as of stage-hands strolling about in the rear of the set) had spoilt the awe-inspiring effect of this scene\u201d.15<\/a><\/sup> Despite this, Kneale later stated that he felt the play \u201cheld up extremely well\u201d.16<\/a><\/sup> <\/p>\n As no recording of the play\u2019s broadcast was retained, if indeed one was ever made, it is impossible for us to assess the quality of the production. In view of this, the Audience Research Report is all the more useful. Although a small number of the viewers sample group found the play\u2019s subject \u201cunsuitable for Sunday viewing\u201d or \u201ctoo fantastic to be even remotely credible\u201d, the reaction was largely favourable. Most found it exciting and an example of the \u201cspine-chilling\u201d thriller genre. Kneale\u2019s script was considered \u201cadmirably written, vivid, imaginative and well thought-out\u201d. One viewer stated that the action \u201ccompelled attention from beginning to end\u201d. In view of Kneale and Cartier\u2019s approach to expanding the range of television drama, the comment from one of the sample group must have been particularly welcome. A Master Builder found it \u201crefreshing to get away from the plays with a stuffy drawing-room atmosphere, and to feel revivified by the sight and sound of mountains, snow and wind\u201d. <\/p>\n One viewer found it \u201crefreshing to get away from the plays with a stuffy drawing-room atmosphere, and to feel revivified by the sight and sound of mountains, snow and wind\u201d. In view of their mutual desire to expand the range of television drama, this comment must have been particularly welcome to Kneale, Cartier and Barry. There was little negative reaction to the story itself, although a few suggested the play should have held back on answering the mysteries of the yeti. Another viewer commented: \u201cThe guess at the answers to the questions surrounding the existence of this creature was ingenious and interesting, but I think the attempt to bring the unguessable to life, detracted from this rousing adventure play\u201d.<\/p>\n The viewers sampled praised the cast\u2019s acting. They described Cushing\u2019s performance as \u201coutstanding\u201d and indeed felt that every role had been \u201cplayed with great conviction\u201d. Cartier\u2019s production was much admired, with \u201cthe technical presentation exceptionally convincing, and, in the outdoor scenes, most successful in creating the illusion that the action was taking place in the snows of the Himalayas.\u201d The use of filmed inserts for this purpose was thought to have made the play the equal of any cinema film. One viewer commented that \u201ceverything was as could be imagined in the circumstances, no studio atmosphere at all\u201d. On a technical level, the report concluded that the sample viewers had found the picture quality to have been \u201ca little variable\u201d in the cave and monastery scenes and \u201cone or two said that the flare-lit night scenes on the mountain-side made a bad picture.\u201d 1955 was still early days for television technology so feedback on how different production techniques affected the image seen in viewers\u2019 homes was valuable to programme-makers.<\/p>\n The report calculated that 22% of the UK\u2019s adult population, which it equated to 71% of the \u201cadult TV public\u201d (presumably those living in a household with a television), viewed the first performance. The former figure suggests an audience of a little over eight-and-a-quarter million viewers.17<\/a><\/sup> This was slightly lower than the average adult TV public audience of 75% for recent Sunday night plays.18<\/a><\/sup> Although speculation only, it could be that the reduced audience was a result of the play\u2019s genre and\/or the association of Kneale, Cartier and the genre with objectionable \u2018horror\u2019 content, following the previous month\u2019s Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em> controversy. However, if the audience was smaller it was also more appreciative, with the play\u2019s Reaction Index of 73 being significantly higher than the average of 65 for the previous year\u2019s television plays.19<\/a><\/sup> The repeat performance was watched by 8% of the UK population (about three million) and gained a fractionally lower Reaction Index of 72.20<\/a><\/sup> The reduction in audience size between the first and second performances was roughly in line with the usual audience ratio for Sunday night plays and their Thursday repeats.21<\/a><\/sup> <\/p>\n The Audience Research Report made comparison with Kneale and Cartier\u2019s The Quatermass Experiment<\/em> from the previous year, which had received scores between 64 and 72 across its six episodes.22<\/a><\/sup> Both The Creature<\/em>\u2019s audience and its Reaction Index far exceeded those of the aforementioned Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em>.23<\/a><\/sup> The Creature<\/em>\u2019s high Reaction Index fits my line of speculation that those who thought the play would not be to their taste (and would therefore be more likely to score it harshly had they watched) chose not to watch, leading to the sample being weighted towards viewers naturally more well disposed to this type of play. On the other hand, it may simply represent the play\u2019s high quality, as the previous science fiction television play, The Voices<\/em>, broadcast just two weeks earlier, had an even smaller audience and an extraordinarily low Reaction Index.24<\/a><\/sup> <\/p>\n Contemporary press reviews also give some indication of The Creature<\/em>\u2019s effectiveness, although newspaper critics were generally less impressed than the BBC\u2019s audience sample. A review in The Times<\/em> suggests that Cartier\u2019s trademark epic style of staging was in evidence, with \u201cvast snowscapes, fiercely howling wind, foreboding music, night flares shining in the mountain, [and] a whole monastery full of masked monks\u201d.25<\/a><\/sup> The reviewer was, however, otherwise unimpressed. Blaming the subject matter, they claimed that \u201cnothing could raise it from the banal level of its dialogue and narrative\u201d, and even the usually reliable Cushing was apparently \u201cdull\u201d.<\/p>\n The Listener<\/em>\u2019s critic, Philip Hope-Wallace, was equally underwhelmed. Given its subject, he felt that The Creature<\/em> \u201cshould have been a national sensation \u2026 It was no such thing.\u201d26<\/a><\/sup> He found the play of \u201ca Boy\u2019s Fiction standard with a conversational cut and thrust to the dialogue which sounded as dry and powdery as the snows of the film inserts\u201d. He felt that \u201cThe first Creature we saw, dead, merely looked drunk. The second and third looked not unkindly\u201d.<\/p>\n A mixed review came from The Stage<\/em> newspaper, which noted that \u201cThe tightly written plot was supported by every conceivable visual and sound effect \u2013 impressive snowscapes, shrieking wind, masked monks, a frightening lama, and those voices that recently came to us from somewhere beyond Mars\u201d.27<\/a><\/sup> The review continues: <\/p>\n Rudolph Cartier tried valiantly to make it all convincing but could not combat the banal dialogue \u2026 Taken as a schoolboyish adventure, in fact, it was enjoyable enough in its own way, and the cast acquitted themselves with credit. Peter Cushing, his style a model of television acting, headed an excellent team \u2026<\/p><\/blockquote>\n More positive was Peter Black, who wrote in the Daily Mail<\/em> that Kneale, Cartier and Learoyd \u201cpulled off with great success that most difficult of jobs for TV drama \u2013 the rousing, outdoor adventure story.\u201d28<\/a><\/sup> He regarded the play as a \u201clandmark\u201d which \u201cshowed how a writer, producer, and designer who understand what they are about can extend the horizons of TV drama to a point where they meet those of the cinema.\u201d Black found Kneale\u2019s story \u201can imaginative yarn, tightly and vividly written\u201d and \u201cVery plausibly argued too \u2013 for on Mr Kneale\u2019s evidence the snowman was 10ft. high\u201d, which suggests that Cartier\u2019s height deception had been successfully achieved. Black concluded his review recommending the play to viewers for the Thursday repeat and, prophetically, to any film company looking for a \u201csensible out-of-the-ruck adventure\u201d.<\/p>\n Also enthusiastic was Clifford Davis of the Daily Mirror<\/em>, who wrote: \u201cLast night\u2019s offering was gripping stuff and, for this viewer, packed with terror.\u201d Davis found the realisation of the creature effective, describing it as \u201c10ft, 5\u00bd in. high, and its footprints are 16in. long! It has shaggy, matted hair and a face that looks like every witch doctor\u2019s mask you\u2019ve ever seen, all rolled into one.\u201d29<\/a><\/sup> He also felt that Cushing \u201cnever did anything better.\u201d He concluded: \u201cIf TV carries on like this the BBC will soon have to issue \u201cX\u201d and \u201cH\u201d certificates for the productions of Mr. Kneale and Mr Cartier.\u201d <\/p>\n Joanne Runswick\u2019s review for Plays and Players<\/em> was also very positive. She commended the production as \u201cfirst rate\u201d, noting that the mixing of live scenes and film was \u201cperhaps the most satisfying yet shown.\u201d30<\/a><\/sup> She observed a \u201creligious quality to the play which gave it an added air of mystery: black magic touched with Buddhism, all a trifle phoney, but none the less gripping for that.\u201d She also praised the performances of all the main cast. One note of disappointment was sounded by the Tibetan-speaking viewer who telephoned Cartier following the transmission to complain that a \u2018Tibetan\u2019 inscription seen in the play was not genuine Tibetan script.31<\/a><\/sup><\/p>\n A few months later The Creature<\/em> was recalled in The Times<\/em> as a \u201cnotable example of how cinematic television drama must become if it is to be true to its own resources.\u201d32<\/a><\/sup> The play also made an impression on the makers of The Goon Show<\/em>, who parodied it in the episode Yehti some weeks after transmission, having parodied Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em> in a previous episode.33<\/a><\/sup> In absence of a recording, all that is known to remain of The Creature<\/em> is a series of off-screen stills taken by photographer John Cura as part of his \u2018Tele-snaps\u2019 service, which are believed to be held privately.<\/p>\n Although the contemporary reviews suggest that The Creature<\/em> may not have been a complete success, its expansive staging indicated Rudolph Cartier\u2019s technical skill at achieving the near-impossible, and the scope for adventurous drama that it allowed. It is also indicative of the rapidly increasing confidence of the BBC\u2019s television drama department, under Michael Barry\u2019s leadership, to attempt such ambitious and original material at a time when resources and conventional wisdom cautioned very much against it.<\/p>\n As they had done with The Quatermass Experiment<\/em>, Hammer Films purchased Kneale\u2019s script from the BBC. Filming began at the beginning of 1957 with a slightly streamlined script and expanded cast (Rollason gained a wife and assistant for example). For the film, Brosset\u2019s name reverted back to Ed Shelley, as in the play\u2019s rehearsal script, and McPhee reverted to McNee but retained Andrew as his first name. Val Guest directed as well as adapting the original script, which he admired but thought \u201ctoo verbose\u201d for the cinema.34<\/a><\/sup> The film was titled The Abominable Snowman<\/em> for the British market, with of the Himalayas<\/em> appended for American distribution.35<\/a><\/sup> Cushing, Wolfe Morris and Arnold Marl\u00e9 all reprised their roles.<\/p>\n \u00a9 Oliver Wake, 2013<\/p>\n Thanks to Alan Hayes, Dr Tobias Hochscherf and the BBC Written Archives Centre for access to research materials. Thanks also to Sue Malden at BECTU, and the staff of the BFI Reuben Library, for access to the Rudolph Cartier BECTU Oral History Project interview.<\/p>\n Originally posted: 25 November 2010.![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.britishtelevisiondrama.org.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/04\/BTVD_CushingCreature_pic-e1334741299625.jpg\" "\\"BTVD_CushingCreature_pic\\"")
<\/a><\/p>\n
\nUpdates:
\n31 March 2012: Replaced the 2010 post with a new, revised version.
\n22 January 2014: Replaced the 2012 post with a new, revised version with new material including BBC archive research.
\n12 March 2014: Added BECTU material.
\n25 January 2018: Minor typographical correction (replaced one missing set of closing quotation marks).
\n21 February 2018: Further polish: several minor amendments to prose; minor amendments to punctuation (e.g. “90 minute play” becomes “90-minute play”); split two paragraphs into shorter paragraphs; reworded sentence on Tibetan script and moved it to later in article; reworded and moved “stuffy drawing-room” sentence; added new sentences (“1955 was still early days”).
\n25 February 2018: Two minor textual changes (one to body, one to this list) to completed revisions begun on 21 February.<\/em><\/p>\n
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