Of the three original Quatermass tales, Quatermass and the Pit casts the longest shadow, a massively important chapter in British television and remains one of its finest pieces of science fiction ever made. A brilliant blending of superstition, witchcraft and ghosts into the story of a five-million-year-old Martian invasion; under the guise of a genre story which mines mythology and folklore, it tackles themes of man's hostile nature and the military's perversion of science for its own ends, remaining just as gripping today as it was nearly 70 years ago. Although, opening without the use of Gustav Holst's Mars feels like a crime.
It's easily the slowest of the original three, but that smooth and leisurely pace works to its advantage, thanks once again to Nigel Kneale's writing, effectively blending hard science, genuine horror and the occasional bit of light comedy; Rudolph Cartier makes excellent use of the larger budget afforded to him, including more 35mm sequences which ironically outnumber the studio segments, the shot of London burning in the final episode is a major highlight and still looks incredible to this day. Cartier has even freed himself from the locked-down stage play aesthetics of the previous outings, it's more experimental, more fluid and takes far more risks with its production even with the BBC's continued insistence that television be a live production, thankfully, everyone on both sides of the camera was on the top of their game.
We once again have a new Quatermass at the helm, the sad passing of previous Quatermass actor John Robinson means that this time the Professor is portrayed by the brilliant André Morell. Morell offers us the definitive portrayal of the character thus far, toeing the line between the calm demeanour of Reginald Tate and the headstrong attitude of Brian Donlevy with the supporting cast all doing an excellent job in their respective roles. It's impossible to overstate Kneale's influence on film and television, Quatermass and the Pit shows him fully into his stride, championing the scientist as the hero, a hero who wins by reason, intellect and understanding, and violence is ultimately self-destructive. His final plea for tolerance underlying that the threat lies within humanity itself, a reminder and a warning.
It's easily the slowest of the original three, but that smooth and leisurely pace works to its advantage, thanks once again to Nigel Kneale's writing, effectively blending hard science, genuine horror and the occasional bit of light comedy; Rudolph Cartier makes excellent use of the larger budget afforded to him, including more 35mm sequences which ironically outnumber the studio segments, the shot of London burning in the final episode is a major highlight and still looks incredible to this day. Cartier has even freed himself from the locked-down stage play aesthetics of the previous outings, it's more experimental, more fluid and takes far more risks with its production even with the BBC's continued insistence that television be a live production, thankfully, everyone on both sides of the camera was on the top of their game.
We once again have a new Quatermass at the helm, the sad passing of previous Quatermass actor John Robinson means that this time the Professor is portrayed by the brilliant André Morell. Morell offers us the definitive portrayal of the character thus far, toeing the line between the calm demeanour of Reginald Tate and the headstrong attitude of Brian Donlevy with the supporting cast all doing an excellent job in their respective roles. It's impossible to overstate Kneale's influence on film and television, Quatermass and the Pit shows him fully into his stride, championing the scientist as the hero, a hero who wins by reason, intellect and understanding, and violence is ultimately self-destructive. His final plea for tolerance underlying that the threat lies within humanity itself, a reminder and a warning.