The Gunfighters
Doctor Who and westerns aren't an obvious couple. In spite of Doctor Who's ability to visit any period in history and its obvious affinity with 19th century styles, it's too British a programme to fit comfortably with that most American genre. This might be part of why The Gunfighters, the first Doctor Who serial set entirely in the United States, long held a reputation as being one of the programme's worst serials. Common knowledge paints it as the worst of the Hartnell stories, a misfire in his desperate final year cursed with crushingly poor ratings.
This is entirely unfair. If ever there were a misjudged, unjustly maligned story, then The Gunfighters is it. In truth, the audience for The Gunfighters was on a par with several serials of 1966, and better than some; and although it may not be to everyone's taste, it is a far better story than its reputation suggests. Even among those who have seen the serial – and we are fortunate to count all four episodes among the archives – often misjudge it, looking at it as a straight historical drama. Did they all miss the joke? The Gunfighters is a comedy, one that revels in sending up the western genre. The serial was written by Donald Cotton, and like his previous contribution to the series, The Myth Makers, it's a historical adventure that's more concerned with the popular perception of an era than any real accuracy.
The Gunfighters' comedy credentials are clear from the off. The Doctor, having just defeated the godlike powers of the Celestial Toymaker, is struck down by nothing more unearthly than a toothache. Fortunately for him, the TARDIS lands in a place and time with dentistry. Unfortunately, that place is Tombstone, Arizona, in the year 1881. The single dentist in the town is the notorious gambler and gunman Doc Holliday, and before long, having a tooth yanked out without anaesthetic will be the least of the Doctor's troubles: the legendary gunfight at the O.K. Corral is only days away.
The Doctor, upon leaving Doc Holliday's surgery and entering the local saloon, is immediately mistaken for Holliday; dangerous when the Clantons are out for blood in their feud against Wyatt Earp and all his associates. The fact that Holliday was barely into his thirties in 1881 is irrelevant; the name conjures up an older and eccentric man, so that's what we get. Anthony Jacobs (War and Peace, Parbottle Speaking) and Hartnell were both middle-aged in 1966 and playing their parts older. Jacobs is a wonderful foil for Hartnell, his Doc clearly never inclined to go straight and never to be trusted, but too charming not to side with. In a fun bit of trivia, Anthony Jacobs took his young son Matthew with him to watch the filming of one of the episodes. Thirty years later, Jacobs directed the Doctor Who TV movie starring Paul McGann – produced for American television but no more filmed in the United States than The Gunfighters was. (At least Vancouver is a bit closer.)
Peter Purves and Jackie Lane are on top form throughout. With Steven jumping at the chance to explore the Old West that he saw in the movies (nice to know they still show those in whatever future century he's from), he puts on a flagrantly camp fancy dress cowboy outfit, a quarter of a century before Back to the Future III did the same joke. Dodo is at her best here, her character really working at last in her penultimate story. Throwing herself into the role of “Dodo Dupont,” she refuses to take things seriously until she's in imminent, inarguable danger. As a contemporary young woman, genre savvy, and ready to make the most of her travels in time, Dodo comes across as a very modern companion here. If she'd always been written as this much fun she might have stuck around for a while.
As she and “Steven Regret” (presumably short for “Steven regrets putting on that silly costume”) are taken hostage by the Clantons to draw out their associate, “the Doc,” the stakes get higher. Unfortunately, the Clantons are an unimpressive bunch, played by three actors who clearly weren't cast for their authentic Western drawl. The accents travel everywhere from Birmingham to British Columbia, not once intersecting with Arizona. Maurice Good (Pretenders, Hammer's Quatermass and the Pit) and David Cole (Strangers, William, Brookside) aren't bad otherwise, but the confusingly named William Hurndall is pretty dreadful. Pa Clanton (Reed de Rouen – Triton) adds a certain air of authority once he shows up, but it's Johnny Ringo who's the real villain of the piece. Laurence Payne (Sexton Blake) convinces as a really nasty piece of work. The fact that unscrupulous gun-for-hire Ringo had both fled Tombstone and been killed months before the gunfight happened is irrelevant; historical fact only briefly intersects with the events of the serial, which bears a closer resemblance to the 1957 John Sturges film Gunfight at the O.K. Corral. Payne is excellent in the role, but it was originally offered to Patrick Troughton, who was unavailable until later in the year. How different the story of Doctor Who might have been...
The good guys, or rather the opposing side of the feud, put in a pretty strong performance. John Alderson plays the legendary Wyatt Earp, or “Mr Werp” as the Doctor insists on calling him. The Gunfighters was part of a long career appearing in westerns for Alderson, including Bonanza, Wild Wild West, Death Valley Days, Maverick and as the lead in Boots and Saddles. Pretty impressive for a bloke from County Durham. He holds up much of the serial here, acting as the straight man to both Docs, with help from Victor Carin (Doom Castle, Sutherland's Law) as elder brother Virgil Earp and Richard Beale (Return to Treasure Island, A Horseman Riding By) as ally Bat Masterson (who also wasn't in Tombstone during the build-up to the gunfight).
Holliday is also fortunate to have his fine lady companion Kate Cummings at his side and watching his back. Played with great charisma by Sheena Marshe (Best of Friends), Kate is the sassy, flamboyant singer and entertainer at the Last Chance Saloon. She's a tough cookie, but not quite the ferocious “Big Nose Kate” of historical repute. Kate's charms are also a good deal more... frontal than we might expect from 1960s children's television. Behind the bar of the saloon is David Graham (Thunderbirds, Peppa Pig) who should, as a voice actor, perhaps be able to give a stronger American accent, although it was very early in his career.
However, it's William Hartnell that makes the serial. Nowhere in Doctor Who is his unerring talent for verbal and physical comedy more apparent than here. Witness him, locked up and smuggled a gun for his escape. He spins the gun on his finger, chuckling as he amuses himself. "I say, Mister Werp, can you do that?" The Gunfighters is a great showcase for Hartnell, and a strong argument against the idea that he was unable to deliver a strong performance in his last months in the role. Plus, he pulls off a Stetson better than either Matt Smith or Ncuti Gatwa.
The most memorable part of the serial, however, is the astonishing Ballad of the Last Chance Saloon. We might be used to Doctor Who episodes with a bespoke song or musical number now, but nothing like this. The Ballad is sung relentlessly through the first three episodes, not only by Kate and Steven (the latter at gunpoint), but non-diegetically by Lynda Baron (always and forever Nurse Gladys Emmanuel on Open All Hours) at the open and close of every episode, and several times beside. At first it sounds pretty poor. Then it grows on you. Then it becomes distinctly wearisome. Of course, these episodes were meant to watched one-per-week, not all in one go, so the song wouldn't have been so overwhelming as presented correctly. Even so, it's certainly not something you'll forget after watching the story.
Just like The Myth Makers, Donald Cotton delivers a script that's three parts comedy and one part brutality. As with his earlier serial, the violence is softened by all the silliness going on around it, but in part four, when the gunfight actually takes place, it's no holds barred. It's a full-on, vicious gun battle, with Rex Tucker (who also wrote the lyrics to the Ballad) giving some intense direction. Nonetheless, a disagreement with producer Innes Lloyd over the scene led him to request his name was removed from the final episode credits. Perhaps he wanted it to be even harsher. It wouldn't be the first time Tucker's work on the series went uncredited; he was quietly influential on the earliest developments of the programme back in 1963.
There's no other Doctor Who story quite like The Gunfighters. That's probably a good thing. How wonderful, though, that this unique take on the western drama exists. Its poor reception may have been partly responsible for Innes Lloyd phasing the historical, non-sf episodes out of the series, but what a wonderful late-day example it is.
Daniel Tessier – August 2025
