Dead of Night: Return Flight

 "He'll shut up soon, Skip. He's, er, got no legs left."

It's an amusing start as a plane descends to land at Heathrow and the stewardess requests the passengers to "Please extinguish your cigarettes". 1972 was a long time ago, even if it's only five years before yours truly was born...

This one promised to be good. Written by Robert Holmes, known to us Doctor Who fans as being bloody good. A premise that seems to have a fair bit of potential- a recently bereaved airline pilot with his little demons and greavances ishaunted by the subtle presence of the ghost of a Lancaster bomber, with inevitably grim results.

And the thing is... in some senses the  script is good. The characters, from Captain Rolfe to his friends to the surprisingly decent investigator are all well-rounded and believable. Peter Barkworth, too, is excellent. There's a level in which it works as drama.

And yet... there's just no tension. As horrow, it fails utterly. There's a surprising lack of emphasis on the supernatural here. And, well-written though the characters may be, the whole thing is so slow, uneventful and... well, dull.

Unusually for a Holmes script, I'm afraif this is a bit of a dud.

The Nightmare Man: Parts Three and Four

Part Three

“I blame television. Some people see The Sound of Music once too often, and something snaps.”

It’s a bit odd watching episodes two at a time and reviewing them two at a time, especially when it comes to reviewing Part Three while trying to pretend you haven’t also just watched Part Four. So I find myself being quite unable to write up the parts of my notes theorising about the Colonel and secret military cover-ups of aliens. It’s a nice part of the developing plot, though. We’re also constantly reminded of a mysterious soldier with a parachute.

And the plot’s coming on nicely. Things have taken on a regular pattern by now: each episode is a new day; the police are nice, normal people; Tom gets the best lines; the characters are getting to like and trust one another more and more. It’s nice that we have none of that tiresome nonsense where characters suspect each other of nefarious deeds for no good reason. But the undercurrent of horror starts to move into the foreground, and we get actual glimpses of the creature. Fiona’s impressive multimedia set-up lays the groundwork most effectively for the inevitable deaths of the coastguards. After all, for characters like this, living in an isolated place that might as well be a lighthouse, to get killed is pretty much a trope in itself. It raises the stakes, though…

Part Four

“A policeman’s lot is not a happy one.”

So, it wasn’t an alien, it was a Russian cyborg thingy. Well, of course. And the colonel and his mates, who’ve put the island under martial law, are also all Russians. I wasn’t expecting that. The Cold War: how very quaint.

I love the characters’ reactions, though. Inskip suspects something’s up with the colonel, and has his suspicions confirmed. Tom is as witty as ever. Fiona is deeply upset that all this horror has come to her beloved island. And Mike, with his military background, is the one who finally draws out the truth, and, I suppose, gets to be the hero.

I don’t know the original novel at all, but the twist fell a little flat to me. The plot, and especially the warmly drawn characters, are beautifully handled by Holmes, but this is a fairly standard thriller plot until the final twenty minutes, and the big revelation is not sufficiently related to anything we’ve seen earlier to have any real resonance or power.

Still, it’s possible that this fault may lie in the source material. Certainly, Holmes handles the nuts and bolts of the plot, and the characterisation, with consummate ease. But it’s a shame that this should be his only “original” drama. RTD once compared him to Dennis Potter; this script is good, but doesn’t back that claim up.

Incidentally, it's an instructive experience watching a BBC drama from 1981 just after a Joss Whedon series from 2001. Everything seems so much... slower. And I'm sure  it probably means I've failed to properly appreciate Camfield's direction here.

The Nightmare Man: Parts One and Two

Part One

“There’s been a murder.”

I’ve never seen this before but, as a rather full-on Doctor Who fan of twenty-four years standing, I can’t resist a thriller, from 1981, scripted by Robert Holmes and directed by Douglas Camfield. These two are pretty much the dream team.

Camfield directed Terror of the Zygons, of course, and it’s not just the Scottish setting that echoes this. The shots from the POV of the killer, or creature, or whatever it is, deeply echo the similar shots of the Skarasen. But here they are very effective, with their whole blood-red look contrasting with the realism we see elsewhere.

Otherwise, we spend the thirty minutes until the murder of Symonds exploring the frenzied murder of a Mars Anderson, and being rather effectively introduced to our cast of characters. It’s a rather unstarry cast; Celia Imrie and Maurice Roeves are the only two I’ve ever heard of. But then, this being a thriller, that’s probably a good idea. I can’t rely on relative levels of fame to predict who’s going to get killed.

I assume this was filmed on location on a proper island up in the Highlands; it certainly looks like it. And this closed little community, where Inspector Inskip has just four police officers at his disposal, feels simultaneously large and claustrophobic in the fog. The characters are interesting, and it’s interesting to speculate what will happen to them. Mike proposes to Fiona, so I assume at least one of them (him?) is not going to survive. The policemen are all likeable but realistic and human, as they should be from the pen of an ex-copper. It’s a nice touch to see Tom swearing in Gaelic! Roeves is excellent as Inskip- reassuringly normal and believable for a TV cop.

Part Two

“No creature on this Earth has a bite like that.”

This episode does something very refreshing; it slowly and plausibly gets our main characters to accept that they’re dealing with an alien without resorting to the tired and frustrating spectacle of characters refusing to believe anything which seems far fetched. With the cliffhanger, the final piece slots into place as even Inskip accepts that “Nothing human did that.”

We’re given various pieces of the puzzle one by one; the creature’s teeth, the fact that it seems to be radioactive, and finally what appears to be its spacecraft. But there’s one other mystery here: Colonel Howard. At first I assumed he was just a red herring- he clearly isn’t the killer- but could he be more than he seems? Do the military have some connection with what’s going on? Is the military parachute a clue? Or is he a double red herring?

I really like Inskip; he may be a newcomer and a Glaswegian, but he’s part of this community and he cares for it (“Ah, Jamie’s a good loony, Tom. He’s not a killer.”). He’s clever, too; he sees that the killer’s moving in a straight line and follows it. We’ve also established that Mike, Fiona and Dr. Goudry are all decent sorts. They can’t all survive…

Blake's 7: Orbit

“Natural leaders are rarely encumbered with intelligence.”

At last a writer I know, and it’s the great Robert Homes again, at last! This episode is great. These two statements may well be connected…!

Yet again we get a notoriously clever scientist whom Avon wants to contact in case his cleverness might be useful- the standard Season Four plot, basically. But, this being Robert Holmes, we get a much more entertaining scientist. In fact, Egrogian must be the campest scientist ever, in all senses of the word. John Savident chews the scenery magnificently, and is the best thing in this.

His interaction with Pinder is great, too; in fact, it’s pretty much a textbook example of what we Doctor Who fans call a “Holmesian double act”; the “smart” one, with a rich fruity vocabulary and great quotable dialogue, and the put-upon underling. But it’s very, very dark here. For a start, there are hints of past sexual abuse. And the revelation that Pinder is only twenty-eight, but was aged fifty years in a freak accident, which was entirely Egrogian’s fault, is a wonderfully dark, twisted, Holmesian touch. Even the wart and hairstyle work perfectly for this gloriously grotesque villain.

It’s a dramatic moment when Avon and Vila are offered the tachyon nuke, capable of blowing up stars. Obviously, no one can have this much power. We know from the start that this uber-weapon cannot possibly be allowed to survive the episode. Especially as Egrogian proceeds to go on a bit of a rant about revenge and destroying stuff.

Avon is more or less his old self here; clever, level-headed and showing no sign of his self-destructive streak which has been showing itself occasionally of late. He sensibly agrees Egrogian’s proposed swap of the uber-weapon for Orac but, as we’ll see, has a rather cunning little contingency plan, double-crossing the double-crossing. I would have said how clever it was of him to infer the involvement of Servalan, but I won’t; Servalan is in every bloody episode these days. She’s very, very Thatcher here, so far more evil than usual.

Probably the creepiest moment is where our ultra-camp mad scientist expresses a bit of a thing for Vila (“One could become very fond of that young man…”), who would no doubt be abused in the same way as Pinder.

That’s not the only indignity Vila is made to suffer, of course. Both Holmes’ script and Darrow’s performance make it clear that, faced with death as the alternative, Avon is quite willing to throw Vila off the ship so he can achieve escape velocity. I’m still unsure whether this is a regression on the character’s part (the Avon we see in this episode is not quite the reckless Avon of Season Four), but the circumstances give him little choice, perhaps.

The twist ending is great, though; a little dwarf star, foreshadowed earlier, being the thing that’s pulling the shuttle down. I suspect that it’s not entirely realistic for Avon to push it around, but never mind! This episode is such enormous fun I can forgive anything. Top stuff.

Blake's 7: Traitor

“Maybe we should start running now…”

Hooray for Robert Holmes! Nuanced characterisation, themes, complex narratives- how I’ve missed these things!

There are a bewildering amount of Federation officers to keep track of, mind. Just to get things straight in my heads; the chap with the eyepatch is Quute; above him is a general whom we may as well call “The General; there’s the mysterious Leitz; and the sadistic Sleer, unseen until the end. Right…

We begin with Quute sending a curiously tame captured rebel back to his mates, who are apparently led by a Star Major Hunda. The man has had a tracer placed on him so the rebel base can be blown up, but fortunately (for Hunda and co), he is blown up before reaching them. In a typical Holmesian touch, Quute and his underling blow him up while playing chess, which is not only very, very cool but pre-empts the episode’s themes.

Meanwhile, on board the Scorpio, Orac announces that yet another world has been re-integrated into the Federation’s interstellar computer network: Helotrix, home to the Helots (nice classical reference there). This clearly shocks Avon and co; the Federation is expanding with shocking speed. This scene seems to be pivotal; too late, our heroes discover how they have horribly underestimated the Federation, and that their failure to capitalise on its recent weakness may well come back to bite them. Avon insists they go to Helotrix to find the secret behind the Federation’s success.

We then have a fascinating little meal between Quute and his commanding officer. It seems to be quite a luxurious meal, complete with (real?) white wine. And the conversation- death from afar vs. close fighting with cold steel- starts a theme which is developed throughout the episode. Some exposition is cleverly mixed up here; the Helots, like other recently conquered people, have been “adapted” courtesy of a drug which renders them docile. There’s a debate about whether or not this makes them good soldiers which, again, foreshadows later events.

Back aboard the Scorpio, Dayna’s ethnicity gets mentioned for the second episode in a row, and it’s explained that Helotrix is one of the earliest settled planets, and one of the first to declare independence from the Federation. Interestingly, Soolin implies she disputes the contention that humans all originate from Earth, which seems to imply that at least some degree of historical knowledge has been lost. Then again, I suppose it’s no worse than the barmy conspiracy theories that infest the Internet today.

This comment is the only spark of personality that Soolin displays, incidentally. Three episodes in she seems to have no personality and no hinterland whatsoever. I still have no idea who she is.

A comment from Vila confirms that he Scorpio is a much, much more rubbish ship than the Liberator was, and that they have no chance whatsoever of outrunning Federation pursuit ships. Orac may be designing faster engines (or delegating the task of doing so!), but we get the sense that the days of our heroes occupying a state-of-the-art ship are long gone.

It’s Dayna and Tarrant who teleport down to discover the Federation’s apparent new secret weapon. On the surface, the new governor arrives, and we get some exposition. It seems that Servalan (who seems to have changed her title to “supreme empress”!) is no longer in charge, and presumed dead, after a coup took place against her. Still, her body is missing, and that tells us everything, including that she escaped from the Liberator.

This planet has a unique and impressive quality; foggy, marshy and oppressive, it doesn’t look at all like the South East of England. It looks as though it may well have been filmed in some truly exotic climes, such as East Anglia, perhaps. Dayna and Tarrant, hiding in the fog, have the good fortune to bump into Hunda, there on a mission of his own, who’s exactly the chap they need. He tells them what they need to know about the Federation’s mind-altering drug.

Meanwhile, the new governor is murdered by persons unknown, and Leitz turns out to be a secret rebel agent, telling Hunda of away to get into the Federation HQ through the “old monorail” (how prescient of Holmes to guess that they would become passé!), while Dayna and Tarrant are told where the drug is manufactured, which is conveniently nearby.

All is not as it seems, however; Leitz is a double agent who has lured them all into a trap. The scene in which he reveals this is a typically assured piece of writing by Holmes, as he uses the fact that he was leaking secrets to the Federation’s enemies as his alibi for the governor’s murder!

Dayna and Tarrant meet Forbus, a bloke in a wheelchair who has been forced to manufacture the MacGuffin Drug (Did he mention homeopathy as though it were a plausibly scientific process? Grr!) under duress, by Leitz and the equally sadistic Sleer. Fortunately, he has an antidote! This immediately alerts our heroes that they’re walking into a trap set by Leitz, and they set off to warn their fellow rebels.

The Scorpio is spotted, but Avon prefers to hide behind the clouds rather than bugger off. There was a time when he wouldn’t have done that; he seems a lot more impulsive these days and, dare I say it, shows some indications of a death wish. Is this the result of the devastating revelations surrounding Anna Grant? It’ll be interesting to see if this theory continues to hold water.

Dayna and Tarrant manage to warn Hunda and suggest changes to the plan of attack, which goes ahead successfully. In the mêlée, however, they spot none other than Servalan! It turns out that the previously unseen Sleer is in fact Servalan under an assumed name. Leitz is her accomplice and, it seems, her lover, but at the slightest hint of blackmail she naturally bumps him off.

Tarrant and Dayna return to the Scorpio and reveal to Avon that Servalan is alive. He’s not best pleased…

Blake's 7: Gambit

“An eyepatch? Oh, how quaint!”

The fantastic Robert Homes is back. This time he gets an arc episode, and it’s typical Robert Holmes, with everyone double-crossing each other and loads of wonderful dialogue.

The setting is Freedom City, an underworld den of pleasure said to be far superior to Space City from earlier in the series, and lying just outside the Federation. We certainly get a much richer idea of what the place is like than in the earlier story, and this is thanks to both the excellent script and the wonderful realisation. It’s said that Blade Runner invented the sci-fi trope of fashions being cyclical, allowing us to present a retro future. But it’s done earlier and so very effectively here. Krantor, the wonderfully quotable old queen and big boss of the establishment, played by the wonderfully mellifluous Aubrey Woods, and John Leeson’s Toise, dress both themselves and their quarters (shared, I presume!) in Regency finery, while the establishment abounds in historical costumes of all kinds, including, at one point, a nun in the casino.

All this is fascinating; it tells us that knowledge of history has survived all these centuries into the future, as have chess, the casino and the French language. But there’s a story arc to advance, too; this space surgeon can only be the Docholli we heard of last episode, especially as he is accompanied by none other than Travis.

Blake and co have traced Docholli here and, in an almost unheard of departure from recent convention, he actually takes Jenna and Cally down to the surface with him, leaving Avon and Vila to operate the teleport, something he seems usually to consider as women’s work. But Blake and co are nowhere as interesting as what’s going on elsewhere, such as the speed chess tournament against Deep Roy’s wonderful Klute. To win or draw against him means a prize of two million credits but, as we see when Klute is later challenged by a Restoration fop(!), failure means electrocution and vaporisation. It is, as Avon says, the ultimate risk and the ultimate thrill to the true gambler. We end, not with a laughing cavalier, but with a laughing Klute. It’s the same distinct laugh that became so familiar as that of Mr Sin in Doctor Who and the Talons of Weng Chiang.

Servalan is also here, of course, and for the same reason. This being a Robert Holmes story, she has an ever-present underling called Jarriere to form the other half of this Holmesian double act and marvel at her cleverness. In a wonderful scene between Servalan and Krantor, we establish their relationship as they politely carry out their scenes against each other. Servalan makes a deal with Krantor for the delivery of both Doccholli and Travis, in the full knowledge that he will seek Docholli’s secrets first. Krantor will have no use for this knowledge, but Servalan will then have a casus belli to annex this world to Federation, and to “have that vulpine degenerate eviscerated with a small and very blunt knife”. (Interesting choice of words- shades of Nazi Germany versus Weimar Berlin?) Naturally, they’ve both bugged each other. Oh, and I simply love that mirror.

The subplot between Avon and Vila is great too, of course. I love the way they both prey on Orac’s arrogance to manipulate him into playing along, and Vila’s hopeless inability to hide his obviously improbable run of luck.

I’m a bit confused about Travis- last episode he seemed to be on the brink of being captured by the Federation, yet here no allusion is made to this, and he seems to have been following Docholli for a long time. Still, Servalan captures him this time, and rather cleverly turns him into a walking bomb, so as to kill both birds (and possibly Blake) with the one stone. I love the way Holmes seems to gently mock the character’s pomposity here.

Docoholli is being pursued by Cevedic, a character played by an actor instantly recognisable as one Bill Filer to us Doctor Who fans. But the inevitable barmaid-with-a-heart-of-gold hatches an escape plan for him. It’s a good plan, and almost works, but on this story everything is overheard. Bill Filer catches up with him, only to be killed by Travis. Also turning up are Blake, Jenna and Cally, who have remarkably little to do this episode. The bomb doesn’t go off for some reason, and Docholli admits to Blake that, although he can’t tell Blake where Star One is, he knows a man who can. That’ll be the same as the end of last episode then.

Oh, and Blake once again fails to kill Travis, which the script is by now openly mocking him for; “If you’re man enough, kill me now”, goads Travis. Blake isn’t man enough, although Jenna is, it seems. Travis lives to fight another day.

Meanwhile, Vila is rumbled, and drugged into playing speed chess against Klute. With Orac’s help, though, he wins, and he and Avon are rich. They arrive just in time to convince the others they’ve never been away. This script is so good it can even get away with such a clichéd sitcom ending.

Blake's 7: Killer

“Yes, but then we're absentminded scientists, you see. In fact, we've forgotten your name already.”

Ooh, it’s a script by the great Robert Holmes! Seeing his name come up had me quite excited, I can tell you. What we get here is a seemingly effortless piece of storytelling, with the pacing, characterisation and plotting all just masterful.

We start the story in media res, with Avon and Vila teleporting down to the planet Phosphoron to embark on a mission of some kind. Phosphoron, like all planets we’ve seen so far, bears an uncanny resemblance to Hertfordshire or Surrey, and is home to a small Federation base. All of this is established with the kind of narrative efficiency and avoidance of blatant exposition that we don’t always get from Terry Nation, bless his cotton socks.

There’s another factor, though; a Wanderer class vessel spotted by the Liberator. This ship is six to seven centuries old and “infraluminal”; incapable of faster-than-light travel. Its position is a mystery; it should take much more than seven centuries to get to this part of the galaxy, and Cally detects a “malignant” presence.

This vessel has been spotted on Phosphoron, and preparations are being made to bring it to the surface for study. Meanwhile, Avon and Vila manage to break into the complex, which looks very similar to the many contemporary 1970s industrial locations we’ve seen on Blake’s 7 up to this point.

Robert Homes gives us his trademark well-rounded, worldly wise characters, with both Tynus and Dr Bellfriar having rather more depth than we would normally expect from characters of this type. We’re told that Avon plans to exploit his powers of blackmail over Tynus to force him to help them break a new Federation code which will allow them to listen in to all Federation communications. A plan is hatched, but it will take ten hours…

Orac has some information on the missing craft; the only Wanderer craft not accounted for disappeared in the area of 61 Cygni, the “darkling zone”, the only region of space near to earth which remains uncharted, and from whence no traveller returns. That’s nowhere near as alarming as the events on the surface; there’s been an invasion of Michelin men.

Oh, and Blake, motivated by nothing other than curiosity, teleports down and is immediately spotted and caught. Yes, Dr Bellfriar turns out to be friendly, but this doesn’t alter the fact that Blake is an utter plonker.

A body is found aboard the ship, and an autopsy is carried out, but the pathologist- nicely imbued with personality by both the script and Morris Barry in spite of such a minor role- is suddenly killed as the corpse comes to life, breaks his neck and promptly carks it again. Unfortunately, this lets loose a plague throughout the facility, which will mean that all of the guest characters, uniquely, die in this story.

Blake has theories; the virus is airborne, and not even those ridiculous masks with the dark shades and bubble wrap over the mouth are going to save and of the many redshirts. He quotes an historical instance of Lord Jeffery Amherst deliberately planning to use blankets infected with smallpox against, er “redskins” in North America during the Seven Years’ War. It seems that pre-space flight history is still remembered more than seven centuries in the future.

This is a deliberate attempt, it seems, by a hidden civilisation in the Cygnus 61 era to ethnically cleanse the galaxy of humans. Dr Bellfield’s concluding monologue seems to confirm that the virus will only affect those who have been exposed to deep space, in an attempt to confine humans to one planet. He is unable to finish the chemical formula for the antidote, however, and we have a very downbeat ending as Blake launches a plague warning to alert anyone approaching the planet.

Absolutely brilliant.

Doctor Who: Trial of a Time Lord Parts Thirteen and Fourteen: The Ultimate Foe

Part Thirteen

“I’m as truthful, honest, and about as boring as they come.”

The court is back from recess, and who should turn up but James Bree! There’s little time to wallow in nostalgia, though; the main trial plot has stopped treading water and started swimming again, and the Doctor’s in trouble. He’s run out of tricks for his defence, he’s accused of genocide and he’s a hair’s breadth away from being convicted and condemned. So now, of course, is the dramatically appropriate moment for Mel and Glitz to mysteriously turn up to testify in his favour. Glitz, necessarily, has softened from the thug of earlier.

It’s also the dramatically appropriate moment to reveal they’ve been sent by the Master, who is a most suitable means of extracting maximum dramatic potential out of the revelations that follow. Particularly as he turns up from inside the Matrix. Glitz was working for the Master back in parts one to four, and that mysterious box was full of “stuff the secrets had been nicking from the Matrix for years”. And, of course, this being a script by Robert Holmes, a dirty Time Lord cover-up then ensued, involving Earth being naughtily moved across the galaxy to become Ravolox, with enormous collateral damage caused by solar flares. The Doctor gets a great speech after this revelation, describing his own people as “decadent, degenerate and rotten to the core,” although unfortunately this is one of those moments where Colin’s performance suffers a bit of a wobble.

And then the Master casually refers to the Valeyard as “the Doctor” while explaining that he’s been adjusting evidence on behalf of the High Council to ensure the Doctor’s conviction. The Doctor is told that he’s “an amalgamation of the darker sides of your nature, somewhere between your twelfth and final regeneration.” Interesting- this wording, together with the fact he seems to be working for the High Council as some sort of expendable stooge, seems to indicate he’s not so much a future incarnation of the Doctor as a distillation of certain of the Doctor’s qualities, and to some extent an artificial creation of these shadowy Time Lord politicians. This is the Robert Holmes script about corrupt Time Lords to end all Robert Holmes scripts about corrupt Time Lords. Literally.

Oh, and it all seems to make sense, incidentally. The only bits so far that haven’t made sense at all have been in the Pip and Jane Baker episodes, where the workings of the trial seemed to be all over the place and the consequences of the evidence being from the future hadn’t been though through. But the whole business with the sleepers, Ravolox, and the Doctor’s apparent actions on Thoros Beta seem to have been resolved pretty much satisfactorily to me. I don’t think we need to have it spelled out exactly which scenes happened as shown and which didn’t.

Oh, and I haven’t any complaints about Peri’s fate, either. It makes sense, more or less, given her earlier relationship with Yrcanos.

Anyway, Holmes recalls his own script for The Deadly Assassin as the Doctor and Glitz spend the rest of the episode inside the Matrix. Among other things they encounter a number of Mr Popplewicks, all played by Onslow from Keeping Up Appearances, a wonderfully Holmesian satirical dig at bureaucracy.

Part Fourteen

“You are elevating futility to a high art. There’s nothing you can do to prevent the catharsis of spurious morality.”

…So, after a sublime swansong from Holmes, we move to the ridiculous in the shape of this script by Pip and Jane Baker. Sadly, the comparison with their lamented predecessor hardly shows them in a good light.

We get to see the familiar sight of the inside of the Master’s TARDIS. It’s only by doing this marathon that I’ve come to realise just how consistent was its appearance during the ‘80s. We also get an exploding quill pen, by far the coolest thing in this episode. Unfortunately, there’s an awful lot of utter poo here. The Doctor states that “I would trust Mel with my life,” but he’s not even met her yet! I know he’s only pretending to go along with the fake trial, but still. At least I got a cheap laugh out of “Never mind the Sydney Carton heroics,” mind.

This is so poor compared to the previous episode, though. There’s not actually much wrong with the plot, but the dialogue is awful and the characters keep explaining the plot to us in a condescending manner which rubs me up the wrong way. Plus, we get loads of no doubt accurate scientific gobbledygook which reminds me of all the things I didn’t like about the Bidmead scripts. And then the Master, hearing that the High Council has been deposed and insurrection has ensued, actually makes a speech to the Time Lords in the courtroom offering to take control which bears uncanny similarities to a certain speech in Logopolis. Unbelievable.
As a final indignity, the Doctor actually suggests the Inquisitor as a candidate for the presidency. Why? She’s spent the whole season being nothing but an incompetent buffoon.

So, it’s a tale of two episodes. The first part, a worthy swansong from Robert Holmes which fortunately doesn’t leave the plot for Pip n’ Jane to explain, gets 5/5, while the Pip n’ Jane monstrosity gets 2/5. I’m not too bothered about what Eric Saward’s version would have been like, but I’d have loved to have seen Robert Holmes’. I was going to give it a 1/5 but I suppose giving one episode 5/5 and the other 1/5 would have been a bit much.

The last episode aside, though, it’s actually been a damn fine season. I wasn’t actually expecting that I’d be rating this particularly highly until I got to it, but it’s a relief to give a season a good score for once- at 4/5 it’s a creditable joint sixth, which comes as a genuine surprise to me. Who’d have thunk it? Not only is this much-maligned season a triumphant return to form after a poor few years, but it’s the best season of the ‘80s so far by a long way. I suspect the famously diminished presence of Saward may have something to do with it…

Doctor Who: The Trial of a Time Lord Parts One to Four: The Mysterious Planet

Part One

“I intend to adumbrate two typical instances from separate epistopic interfaces of the spectrum.”

It gives me a warm fuzzy glow, all the ambiguity about the story title. Reminds me of the early Hartnells. (Although, as we’ll see, this reminds me mainly of The Krotons.) And I for one will be taking neither side in the debate as I’m rather fond of shades of grey.

Anyway, the story starts with the most fantastic special effects sequence we have yet seen- something which looks like, yet cannot be, CGI. And while we’ll see nothing as mind-blowing as this for the rest of the four episodes, the production values seem pretty impressive to me, whatever may have been going on behind the scenes. 

The Doctor (now with a red cravat) is put on trial by a bunch of Time Lords in a fairly obvious metaphor for off-screen events- actually a brilliant idea in principle, and something which mostly works very well, at least for these four episodes. This trial is also the last time we’ll ever see many of what have become the essential trappings of Time Lord society- robes, Chancellery Guards and the like.

Lynda Bellingham and Michael Jayston are great as the Inquisitor and Valeyard respectively, which is quite a relief as the story absolutely needs them to be. The Doctor has, of course, been deposed as president, and in the interests of providing a more dramatic narrative he insists on defending himself in spite of having had no chance to do any preparation whatsoever, which is hardly fair. He has no real idea what he’s supposed to be defending himself against either but as the charges against him seem to constantly change arbitrarily throughout the story this hardly seems to matter.

That’s the framing sequence dealt with; the four-parter proper is another good ‘un from Robert Holmes, crammed with great ideas and great dialogue. We have the planet Ravolox in the far future, a planet suspiciously similar to Earth. We have a relationship between the Doctor and Peri where they’re back to being friends, a relief after certain recent stories where their relationship has been decidedly awkward to watch. And we have the fantastic Glitz and Dibber, the, ahem, Holmesian double act at its finest. Their dialogue is fab; the whole riff on the prison psychiatrist is a joy.

The whole script sparkles, with Holmes seemingly in a much lighter mood than he has seemed to be in of late. The postmodern wit is back (“Ancient life on Ravolox by Doctor-“), and so are the great ideas. The Doctor and Peri discover what seem to be the ruins of Marble Arch, and it seems that this could almost be Earth except it’s two million miles out of place, instantly a great concept. And it’s a nice touch that the whole thing is laid out like something that was once a tube station, and its inhabitants call it “Marb Station”. I’m enjoying this hugely, which is more than can be said for the Doctor: “Can’t we just have the edited highlights?”

On top of this we have the village, with Joan Sims as Katryca doing an impressive female version of Brian Blessed. I love her reaction to Glitz’s story- she’s clearly no fool. We also get Balazar and his books, another top comedy moment. And just when you think it’s peaked already, here’s Tom Chadbon…

Part Two

“These bars remind me of home.”

The early courtroom scenes in this episode suddenly make it very clear; Holmes is writing for the Tom Baker Doctor, isn’t he? In fact, it’s mere minutes after this thought occurs to me that the jelly babies come out. And I can’t think of any better way of writing for Colin Baker’ Doctor. Certainly the early wobbles over the character’s instability seem to be long gone by this point, although Colin’s performance seems to wobble a bit at the “I always like to do the unexpected” line.

The Immortal has two human underlings who, much as they remind me of David and Tony from The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, I shall henceforth refer to as Gonds for obvious reasons.

It’s another damn fine episode, with a bit more plot fed out to us amongst all the fun; Drathro and his “secrets” are to do with some “Sleepers” from Andromeda. Drathro’s power comes from a Black Light converter which relies on an aerial in Katryca’s village. An aerial which Dibber blows up, meaning that Marb station is soon going to blow up. Oops.

We also get another mention of Saward’s Speelsnapes, and some great character stuff. Drathro knows perfectly well that there’s rain falling outside and that the solar flares’ effects have been much exaggerated, but continues to ration water because that’s what the plan says, inflexible as any machine. A more sinister example of the same mindset, and the most disturbing aspect of the story, is the “culling” of “work units" above the set quota in spite of the fact this is completely unnecessary.

Part Three

“They are out of control, outside the plan.”

Holmes puts into the Inquisitor’s mouth some ironic commentary on recent off-screen-developments: “Valeyard, I would appreciate it if these brutal and repetitious scenes were kept to a minimum.” I’m tempted to see in this not only the obvious reference to criticism of the previous season but also a nod to the truncated length of this season, although sadly I think that may be a temptation too far. Still, more great dialogue.

It’s confirmed; Ravolox is Earth. And there’s now a race against time to avert a big bang. We get some postmodernism and political commentary too, though; the Matrix scenes are censored, something that can hardly fail to conjure up either recent criticism of the programme’s violence or government cover-ups. Mind you, Glitz and Dibber are blatantly talking about the Matrix.

Part Four

“Oh, the Black Light, yeah. We’ve got so much of that, sometimes we can hardly see.”

The Doctor is frustrated by his failure to persuade the solipsistic Drathro that, as he’s going to die anyway, he might as well allow everyone else to survive. But Drathro insists that “The work units exist only to serve me. Without me they would have no function.” This is a disturbingly accurate prediction of modern management practices…

Fortunately, Glitz’s “low cunning” proves to be more persuasive than the Doctor’s moral arguments and so catastrophe is averted. But still unsolved are three questions; why has Earth been moved two million years through space, and by whom? What are the “secrets” of the Sleepers? And what exactly was the point of the Valeyard showing us all that?

Well, that was great, Holmes at his best. And at this stage at least the trial scenes are fine. 5/5.

Doctor Who: The Two Doctors

Part One

“Look at the size of that thing, Doctor!”

“Yes, it is a big one…”

So, to all intents and purposes the last ever old-fashioned six-parter. Phew!

There’s something rather worrying about a multi-Doctor story coming up at this point- it’s hardly likely to be seen as a vote of confidence in their new Doctor by the production team to pair him up with such a fondly remembered predecessor at this early stage. Still, the opening scene is great; we begin with the Second Doctor, in monochrome, with the old TARDIS console. Of course, the line about Victoria being off somewhere studying graphology is deeply absurd (probably a deliberate mickey take on the part of Robert Holmes, I shouldn’t wonder) and all that nonsense about the Doctor and Jamie working for the Time Lords would have completely broken continuity if Mawdryn Undead hadn’t already smashed it into a thousand pieces. Best not to think about such things. And I’m having none of that “Season 6b” nonsense, as I get my razors from that nice Mr Occam.

Anyway, we get a space station and the immediately fantastic John Stratton as Shockeye the Androgum, a fantastic character of the type we expect from Holmes. If we gloss over the continuity headaches then these opening scenes are great, marred only by the visual gag of the Doctor picking up a cucumber he expected to be a knife. I’m not one for insisting the Doctor should never use weapons but there are limits. And it’s decidedly odd hearing decidedly post- The Deadly Assassin sentiments about Time Lords being uttered by Patrick Troughton!

It’s great to see Jacqueline Pearce as Chessene, a suitably Servalan-esque character whatever the difference in her circumstances. And then we get a bit of proto-CGI applied to some Sontaran ships!

Meanwhile, our current Doctor is fishing while Peri seems bored. But at least their relationship is back on track again after the aberration of Mark of the Rani; they now seem like friends again. I believe this is our first sight of the Doctor’s umbrella? Anyway, I, er, approve of the way Peri is dressed.

The Doctor’s dialogue about fishing, incidentally, seems very much to parallel Shockeye’s earlier dialogue about eating humans. There’ll be a lot more of this sort of thing from our vegetarian scribe. Also disturbing is that they’re still on about the Doctor’s not-so-recent regeneration. It’s time to let it lie; this is the Doctor, full stop. Except that we, er, unaccountably have a multi-Doctor story at this point.

The Doctor collapses (well, a bit) in something of a Five Doctors moment as something apparently happens to his past self. The Doctor and Peri thus head to the space station, now occupied only by corpses. The baddies, meanwhile, head for a hacienda, not in Manchester but in Andalusia- it’s only 1985, after all; they’re about three years too early for Acid House.

Oh, and this is where we famously get introduced to our first Sontaran in long-shot, a fairly appalling lapse from Peter Moffat, who seems oddly sub-par throughout the story. The Sontarans look crap, for a start, and Shockeye’s Androgum make-up is a bit basic.

Towards the end we’re introduced to the lovely Anita and Oscar, who gets a speech on how he loves to kill moths with cyanide. Yep, another parallel with earlier speeches by Shockeye and the Doctor from our vegetarian scribe, methinks.

Part Two

 

“I think your Doctor’s worse than mine.”

Is it me, or have things been a bit slow so far? This is still shaping up to be a good ‘un, with great dialogue and characterisation in spite of some rather worrying flaws which I’ll get back to in a bit, but so far this has been oddly lacking in pace for a Holmes script. Things pick up now, though. It seems the “creature” that attacked Peri is in fact Jamie, and the Doctor becomes convinced that his earlier self has been killed and a time paradox has been created. The dialogue which follows would be embarrassing in the hands of a lesser writer, but we have Holmes instead; the Doctor’s soliloquy on the end of the universe is quite brilliant.

But the Troughton Doctor isn’t dead. He still has disappointingly little to do in this episode other than sit around, though. Meanwhile, Shockeye bites the head off a rat. Lovely. I could mention Ozzy Osborne here but I won’t.

The Doctor- er, the current Doctor- gleans the location of his earlier self with help from the bells of Seville Cathedral but still spares some time to give Jamie some advice about bathing (“You should try it more often”).

Interestingly, Holmes being a writer who first turned up quite late in the Troughton era, here we have the later, “Oh my giddy aunt!” version of the character, rather than the more manipulative character of the earlier stories who turned up again in The Three Doctors. Still, Troughton plays the part as though he’s never been away.

The scene where Shockeye discusses Earth cuisine, Spanish and Chinese recipe books to hand, is where the vegetarian and animal rights subtext stops being “sub” and really starts to intrude into the story. Subtle thematic nods (such as the aforementioned parallel speeches in the last episode) are fine, but by this point we’re really being bashed over the head with it. It doesn’t ruin the episodes (it’s got all of Holmes’ trademark wit and characterisation) but it does mar them somewhat.

Oh, and I love the bit where Peri, asked to provide a diversion for Chessene and co, protests that she doesn’t speak Spanish and the Doctor simply says “That’s all right. Neither do they.”

Part Three

“The nouvelle cuisine has not yet penetrated this establishment.”

I suspect another reason the story as a whole doesn’t quite reach Holmes’ usual standards is that he’s simply been given too many ingredients to deal with; two Doctors, Sontarans, and a Spanish setting (originally supposed to be New Orleans). Still, the final episode pretty much delivers. Early on our two Doctors first meet, but not for long; the Troughton Doctor is to be turned into an Androgum. Meanwhile, the Dastari / Chessene faction and the Sontarans have decided to betray and kill each other.

The whole episode centres around Shockeye and the Troughton Doctor, now an Androgum, heading to a restaurant while everyone else attempts to find them. Troughton as an Androgum is great fun, but it seems an odd decision to deprive us of seeing him playing the Doctor for such a large chunk of time. On the other hand, we do get the line about shepherd’s pie.

The setting moves to Seville (nice to see it) and unfortunately there’s another bit of performance from Colin Baker which doesn’t do it for me- “There’s more than one way to cook a cat”. Still, everything about the Doctor and Shockeye eating in the restaurant, with Oscar as waiter, is great. I love the description of all the courses they’ve consumed- along with their twelve bottles of wine. Unfortunately, Shockeye then kills Oscar, with the Doctor present. I know the Doctor’s not himself, but this is just wrong. He may not be the “current” Doctor but the character should never be put in this position. It’s been obvious Oscar was going to die all along, of course; as soon as his moth-killing activities became known it became clear that Holmes wasn’t going to let him survive.

We get more didactism as Shockeye tortures Jamie, claiming that he’s merely “tenderising the meat” and that “Primitive creatures don’t feel pain as we would.” It’s all far more blatant than I remembered. And it’s paralleled with the Doctor using Oscar’s cyanide to kill Shockeye. So, of our three characters to have made speeches in the first episode which defy Holmes’ vegetarian principles, two are punished by being killed- Shockeye by Oscar's cyandide for his moths and Oscar by Shockeye's knife, so each is killed in the way the other would kill an animal. Poetic justice, no doubt, if you're Robert Holmes. Only the Doctor, the hero of the show, is allowed to survive, albeit wounded by Shockeye's knife. And he’s going veggie to boot.

Oh, and the Second Doctor has a remote control for his TARDIS, does he? Slight problems reconciling that with The War Games, methinks…

Well, that was overly didactic, had too much on the shopping list to be included in the script, wasn’t particularly well directed, and although it was great to be seeing Troughton again this really isn’t the sort of thing to do with a new Doctor who hasn’t quite established himself yet. Still, it’s Holmes, meaning there’s wit and characterisation to see us through. The performances are largely good too; 4/5. It’s just that by Holmes’ standard that’s a sub-par score.

.

Doctor Who: The Caves of Androzani

Part One

“I can take an insult. I just don’t want to be shot.”

Let us rejoice! Robert Holmes is back after six long years! May there be public holidays and dancing in the street! Never before have I squee’d so much at the name of the writer at the beginning of a story.

We begin with a great location and a bit of exposition- we’re on Androzani Minor, the smaller of two double planets and somewhat prone to mud-bursts- but the dialogue also serves to cement the relationship between the Doctor and Peri with admirable swiftness, considering they hardly know each other at the end of Planet of Fire. The Doctor and Peri potter about for a bit and Peri falls into some stuff. Still not to worry; as the Doctor says when he helps Peri up, getting a bit on his hand, “It’s probably quite harmless.”

The dialogue between the Doctor is great, well-written but with a real lightness of touch. The tongue-in-cheek riff about celery and gases in the praxis range of the spectrum is great stuff and perfect Holmes. But there are other characters, of course; this being Holmes, there are gun-runners in the shape of Stotz, Krelper and some red-shirts. There’s the over-promoted and out of his depth General Chellak, who looks the part but lacks confidence, relying heavily on the “advice” of his deputy, Salateen. And finally for now there’s Morgus, a deliciously evil corporate big-shot. 

All these characters have depth, charm (however nasty some of them may be!) and good actors playing them. They’re also all recognisably (with the addition of Krau Timmin, Morgus’s underling), ahem, “Holmesian double acts”. And as such they’re interesting characters to see in the series at this point, with Eric Saward as script editor and cynical mercenaries the new house style for guest characters. But while this set of characters may seem to fit this house style superficially, being a bunch of cynics all out for themselves, it’s all done with a wit and sense of fun reminiscent of an earlier era when, well, Robert Holmes used to write for Doctor Who.

I love John Normington as Morgus- particularly his speeches to camera! But his motives are also deliciously apparent in his reactions to various “tragic” events imparted to him by Timmin. He makes a great pantomime villain to contrast with our tragic villain, Sharaz Jek, of whom more later.

Graeme Harper makes a particularly impressive debut- there’s a great moment, following the Doctor and Peri’s capture by Chellak and their being paraded on a screen before Morgus, where we cut quickly between Morgus, the Doctor, via a screen, and Jek in turn watching Morgus through a scene. Impressive too is a later short scene involving Jek where we see a series of dissolves.

The later scenes consist of essentially of preparations for the Doctor’s and Peri’s execution, but these scenes further develop the characters and the world: Chellak believes the Doctor but is powerless to save him, underlining what a weak character he really is; the method of execution is to be “death under the red cloth”, a detail which imparts some local colour; Peri waits for her death in the cell, scared but impressively dignified, and extremely well played by Nicola Bryant. She doesn’t blame the Doctor for her predicament.

Hang on- so “Morgus said that Spectrox was the most valuable substance in the universe.” No he didn’t! But I’m nitpicking, and I’m doing that because there’s not an awful lot wrong with this episode.

Morgus meets the President, and there ensues another scene which nicely and economically develops character whilst engaging in some world building at the same time. Apparently Spectrox extends the human lifespan, and the war against Jek is to wrest control of the supply from him. But the President’s starting to go wobbly…

A flawless first episode. The master is back!

Part Two

“You have the mouth of a prattling jackanapes. But your eyes tell a different story…”

The Doctor and Peri are apparently shot, and Morgus and the President return to their discussion. Morgus is closing camps in the west, rendering his workers unemployed and so liable to slave labour in camps- which Morgus owns and is constructing more of in the east, so swapping waged workers for slave labour! How deliciously evil, and also how very ‘80s. I suspect Robert Holmes may not quite have been an ultra-Thatcherite.

The Doctor and Peri are, of course, alive, if not well, rescued by Jek, who starts to perv over Peri from the moment he meets her. Nicola Bryant plays Peri’s freaked out reaction to this very well indeed. We learn a lot about the mysterious masked Jek here; he wants Morgus’s head. My, and Morgus seemed such a nice chap to me.

We also meet the real Salateen, who in a brilliant piece of writing bursts out laughing before explaining to Peri and the Doctor that “You’re dying!” It seems that they’re suffering from Spectrox toxaemia, the only cure to which is the milk of a queen bat which lives in an area with no oxygen and guarded by fearsome beasts. The Doctor, being the Doctor, resolves to just escape and go and get some! Holmes writes for Davison’s Doctor with absolute perfection on his first go, easily as well if not better than all of his predecessors. And the great thing is, I suspect, he achieves this by just writing the Doctor as he always has and to hell with who might be playing him!

We end with a splendid rant from Morgus over his appearance, the Doctor leading an escape but being rendered unconscious, and Salateen moving off with Peri. The closing scene shows the Doctor about to be attacked by the, er, fearsome magma beast.

Part Three

“I owe it to my friend because I got her into this. So you see, I’m not going to let you stop me now.”

The real Salateen arrives back at Chellak’s HQ, and proceeds to reveal to Chellak what a complete and utter twonk he’s been, with the robot Salateen having ensured Jek’s known of his every move for months. Fortunately, the real Salateen is now on hand to “advise” on what to do.

Jek abandons the Doctor to the gun-runners, who want to “interrogate” him back on Major. And if that’s not bad enough, he’s now entering the third stage of Spectrox toxaemia! But even while held captive in Stotz’s ship the Doctor has the effect of a catalyst on the plot; Morgus, now revealed to be the gun-runners’ mysterious supplier, becomes paranoid at the appearance of the Doctor, and begins to think the President may be plotting against him. So, in a brilliant scene, he casually assassinates the President! Just to finish the scene, he casually remarks to Timmin “And have the lift maintenance engineer shot.”

Jek is notably cagey with Peri about his complicity in abandoning the Doctor to Stotz’s mercenaries, and in his guilt he lashes out by having another bit of a rant. These scenes work brilliantly, with both Bryant and Christopher Gable playing their parts to perfection.

But the cliffhanger- surely the Davison Doctor’s greatest ever moment?

Part Four

“What’s happened?”

“Change, my dear. And it seems not a moment too soon.”

The Doctor crash-lands the ship, escapes, and begins an epic chase from Stotz and co- nothing’s going to stop him from saving Peri’s life. Fittingly, this often passive Doctor gets to be truly heroic throughout his final episode; battling against overwhelming odds to save his friend from the dangers he himself exposed her to. After an epic chase, he seems to be caught, but a mud-blast saves him; from now on the mud-blasts become increasingly frequent, mirroring the frenetic series of events that follow.

Stotz and co return to their ship to find- Morgus, here to lie low in case he’s under suspicion and wanting in on the Spectrox. But once again the tables are turned as he speaks to Timmin on screen; Timmin has betrayed Morgus, he’s a wanted man, and even his fortune has been seized! Now that’s bloody good plotting from the esteemed Mr Holmes.

More stuff happens; Chellak closes in on Jek, Morgus and Stotz agree to go on and split the Spectrox between them, and in another brilliant twist Stotz walks back and guns down his former comrades.

It’s fascinating seeing Jek’s hold over Peri weaken throughout this episode- with Peri now very ill, he can no longer terrify her. There’s a great moment where, following Jek’s tussle with Chellak, Peri sees Jek’s face, screams, and then Jek falls to his knees and wails. Suddenly it is she who seems to have power over him. Indeed, as the Doctor arrives Jek is as helpful as he can be as the Doctor resolves to collect some bat’s milk.

We end with Stotz shooting Jek, the android Salateen killing Stotz, Jek killing Morgus, and Jek finally dying in the android Salateen’s arms! But finally the Doctor carries Peri through the mud-blasts back to the TARDIS, although not without spilling some bats’ milk on the way. There’s enough for Peri, but the doctor slumps to the ground, asking “Is this death?”

This is possibly the finest regeneration sequence so far, better even than Logopolis. The doctor only says he “might” regenerate and it “feels different this time.” But we get a nice montage of companions- fittingly, the Fifth Doctor’s dying word is “Adric”- and a brilliant use of the Master, and then… it happens. And doesn’t it look great! Colin Baker gets a fantastic first few lines as we cut to the new Doctor’s face over the closing titles…

Not only is this a 5/5, but it’s taken the top spot from City of Death. Ridiculously good, perfect in all ways.

Doctor Who: The Power of Kroll

Part One

“Will there be strawberry jam for tea?”

Our first scene introduces us to our group of miners, among whom are John Leeson taking a break from K9 to play Dugeen, the ever-splendid Philip Madoc as Fenner and the extremely impressive Neil McCarthy as Thawn. He’s superb as our villain of the piece, a cold-hearted personification of corporate evil. All of which is to say that already this is shaping up to be our finest cast of the season, and John Abineri hasn’t even appeared yet.

It’s a familiar set up- an anti-colonialist morality tale at heart, although perhaps with a more up-to-date flavour of corporate activity in the Third World rather than evocations of pith helmets and mem-sahibs. It’s all quite strikingly political though. The humans want to mine this world’s mineral resources, they refer to the natives dismissingly as “Swampies”, they work for a “company”, and there are apparently activists known as the Sons of Earth who oppose this kind of thing. All of which is quite efficiently exposited by Robert Holmes’ script in a scene which gives us a basic impression of what these characters are like.

The TARDIS lands in what is, it must be said, an excellent location, and we’re told this is the third moon of Delta Magna. The mercenary Rohm-Dutt, meanwhile, is busy gun-running with the Swampies. Both TARDISeers are soon captured, the Doctor by the human miners and Romana by the Swampies and Rohm-Dutt. How very traditional. As is the obvious model oil rig which brings back nostalgic memories of Terror of the Zygons. This is all very hard-boiled, especially for this season, but the setting is extremely well thought out. I love the Swampies’ use of the term “Dryfoot”.

We eventually learn that the humans intend to create ten mines here, which will lead to the inevitable destruction of the Swampies’ habitat. Something tells me it might not work out that way…

Part Two

“Well, he probably looked more convincing from the front.”

The perfect cliffhanger resolution- it really is just a man in an unconvincing rubber costume. Brilliant!

The Doctor and Romana disappear into an underground passage- of which there have been quite a few this season- to do some reading up on Swampie mythology and the mysterious Kroll, who apparently just pops up every couple of centuries; “A sort of Holy Writ” says the Doctor of the book they find. “I think it’s atrociously writ.” says Romana. Groan. It seems the proteins the human colonists are after are part of Kroll’s enormous bulk, and that in mining right into his tentacles they’re not being entirely wise.

The cliffhanger’s odd- the Doctor, Romana and Rohm-Dutt are to be executed by one of the Swampies’ seven deadly rituals, yet we end with one of the baddies in danger.

Part Three

“I’m not going to be stopped by lily-livered sentimentalists wailing about the fate of a few primitive savages!”

What a very long reprise. And what a very nasty means of execution- being slowly stretched until your spine snaps as the sun dries out the vines. Our heroes are extremely fortunate that the storm turns up when it does so the Doctor can save them all in a rather nifty fashion.

Kroll’s getting rather more active now, and he’s fulfilling a useful role in getting rid of characters, like Rohm-Dutt. Who have served their plot purpose.

Part Four

“”I’m reporting you for murder!”

We now have dissension in the refinery ranks, as Dugeen and Fenner object to Thrawn’s plan to fire depth charges at Kroll- Dugeen because he’s an apparent sympathiser with the Sons of Earth, Fenner because he’s cynical but realistic. This is paralleled with the Swampies as Varlik and the others come to question more and more Ranquin’s insistence that Kroll is a god and not just a mindless predator. It’s not surprising to see that Ranquin’s fate is to be Death By Kroll.

It ends nicely, with the Doctor in Kroll’s clutches but just managing to reach for the tracer to turn Kroll back into the fifth segment. The humans now have no protein to mine and the Swampies are presumably safe. Hooray! There’s a note of unpleasantness after this though- a lot of people mentioned in their reviews to The Sun Makers that the fate of Gatherer Hade was a little too nasty and undermined the moral rightness of the Doctor’s friends, something I entirely failed to spot at the time. Something similar seems to happen here- just as the Doctor and Romana leave, the remaining Swampies start to advance on Fenner. No doubt some vines will be drying out shortly.

This is probably the biggest pleasant surprise of the marathon so far- I wasn’t expecting to like this much and I wasn’t looking forward to seeing it, but actually I find myself giving it 4/5. It was well-written, admittedly hard-boiled but with enough humour to leaven things, well characterised, very well performed and on the whole well made. It just loses a point for Holmes allowing the political subtext, fine in itself, to overwhelm the story at times.

Doctor Who: The Ribos Operation

Part One

“What will happen to me if I refuse?”

“Nothing will happen to you. Nothing at all. Ever.”

The Doctor’s got a new K9! Hooray! And then the story starts with a bang as the TARDIS doors open in flight in a scene which is made brilliant by inspired use of lighting. The Doctor’s been summoned by… well, God, and he’s been charged with a quest to find the Holy Gra- er, Key to Time. I love the way that, instead of depicting something cosmic and expensive, they’ve just depicted the White Guardian as some colonial type bloke in a hat sitting in a deckchair, which works much better.

Instantly it’s clear that, after last season’s unevenness, much thought has been given to things behind the scenes. It’s not just the (fan cliché alert) “umbrella theme”; the new era has now firmly acquired a confident tone and style of its own- no more scares and bangs, but a cheaper, less violent (well, you can’t have everything…), wittier and more postmodern take on things. And the script which heralds the new era in its fully-fledged form for the first time is… Robert Holmes, a man heavily associated with the previous regime. It’s a funny old world.

Anyway, the Doctor has a new assistant, an imperious Time Lady called Romadvoratrelundar, and she’s fab, as is Mary Tamm. Her guilelessly arrogant ways are perfect for winding the Doctor up, and we can tell straightaway that she’s going to be fun. Oh, and rather sexy too.

Apart from introducing Romana, this scene cements something new about the series’ style- wonderfully witty dialogue which is allowed freer rein than before, being let loose more often on that fourth wall, and something different about Tom’s performance. We haven’t really seen his sombre side at all since Horror of Fang Rock, and his more whimsical nature has been staging a gradual takeover for some time, but following the events of The Invasion of Time there seems to be a final shift. The Doctor is now more consistently witty, less prone to introspection, but still with a strong moral centre. But mostly he’s much more fun. I like this new Tom. And the great thing is, what with the events of the last story you could almost at a push call it character development.

Amusingly, we’re told that the Doctor only scraped 51% at the academy on his second attempt. And Gallifrey has a new president, who must be someone we saw in The Invasion of Time as we hear the Doctor say “I should have thrown him to the Sontarans when I had the chance!” Who is it then? It’s not Borusa, for constitutional; reasons. Bet it’s Kelner!

Anyway, Ribos. It’s a well-realised, wintry planet with a mediaeval level of technology which also has the fortunate side effect of suggesting a cultural hinterland in the way that futuristic metal corridors just don’t. There’s a lot of casually excellent design work here. The necessary exposition is handled admirably by means of the highly entertaining, ahem, “Holmesian double act” of Garron (the superb Iain Cuthbertson) and Unstoffe and their intended scam on nasty old offworld nobleman the Graff Vynda K. This planet has two seasons, Suntime and the present season Icetime, both of which last 32 years. Brilliantly, it’s actually part of the interstellar Greater Cyrrhenian Empire, but given that it’s only a “level two” civilisation, the offworlders who actually rule the planet have to claim they’re from “the north” and not display any advanced technology for fear of breaking conservation laws!

I’m loving this already. Garron is a great Holmesian character, a futuristic Horatio Bottomley with great lines, and the set-up is fab. I shall not speak of the Shrivenzale.

Part Two

“You hang a bit of that around your neck and you won’t never suffer from the scringes, no matter how cold it be.”

I love the way our conmen speak in cod-Mummerset accents when they’re pretending to be locals, and the Doctor actually pointed this out at the end of last episode! I love Unstoffe’s speech, but Garron’s the real star of the two of them. It’s fantastic how Holmes, incredibly, gets him to persuade the captain of the guard to deposit a load of money with the crown jewels, and makes it seem plausible. And indeed the fact that, as the title suggests, this is the first time we get a Doctor Who story that is essentially a heist movie. After years of Hinchcliffe era horror movies, Doctor Who is now plundering different sources!

The relationship between the Doctor and Romana continues to be brilliant, too: “An academy graduate doesn’t need things explaining, surely?”

Part Three

“When you’ve faced death as often as I have, this is much more fun.”

I think the scene where the Graff slaps the Doctor, and the Doctor slaps him back, is definitely in the running for my favourite Tom moment ever. The Doctor and Romana are captured and imprisoned, but it’s an interesting example of what a great writer Holmes is that while in the hands of a little writer this perennial Who cliché could be tiresome, here it’s just a pretext for a fun little chat between the Doctor and Garron, a bit of character stuff for Romana and some exposition. And once all this is achieved K9 just comes and rescues everyone, leaving the situation no time at all to become tiresome. Masterful.

The scene with Binro the heretic is of course wonderful, and almost distracts from the fact that Unstoffe seems to have acquired an RP accent what with all the stress of being hunted by the Graff. Interestingly, the Seeker seems to have genuine powers, so precognition works, which is a bit dodgy.

Part Four

“Well, I admit I had a great struggle with me conscience. Fortunately I won.”

There are so many great things about this story. I love the way the Seeker’s frenzied and tuneless shriek is supposed to be hugely annoying!

We get a well-crafted and entertaining conclusion. Binro dies tragically, the Graff disintegrates realistically in a surprisingly well done piece of characterisation, and our heroes have the first segment of the Key to Time. Only five to go.

Flawless. 5/5 and a good one too, only just missing out on a top ten spot. Great script, great new tone, great new companion, Iain Cuthbertson and, most relievingly, no obvious problems with the production. Well, Shrivenzale aside.. It feels as though the problems of last season are behind us already. Can things stay at this level?

Doctor Who: The Sun Makers

Part One

“Probably too many economists in the government…”

Right from the start it’s very clear indeed that we can’t expect anything at all from the sets and costumes, which are quite as awful as they were in The Invisible Enemy. Fortunately, it’s also clear from the start that the scripts and performances are going to be first class. And we get bombarded with some great concepts- dull modernist tower block this may be, but it’s on a mysteriously oxygenated and moderately temperatured Pluto where wood is a distant fable.

It’s also a world where people are drones working for a mysterious company, worked and taxed until their pips squeak and finally put to death on an appointed “deathday”- perhaps the most fully evoked dystopia yet seen in Doctor Who. Cordo and Gatherer Hade are both well written and well acted characters, perfectly shaped to be interesting whilst given us a load of necessary exposition at the start.

Cordo’s recently euthanized father worked hard as a sweeper of walkways for forty years, but he and his son between them can only just afford a painless death for him (Cordo wasn’t present at the death- no doubt he couldn’t afford that), and now Hade reveals that taxes have recently risen to a level Cordo cannot afford, and it is of course the citizen’s responsibility to be familiar with the tax rates. Cordo, already working double shifts, will now have to work during his remaining three hours’ sleep time to work towards his debt, which with compound interest at 50% he will never repay. This is very dark stuff, and that’s precisely why the humour is so important to sweeten the pill.

With K9 poised to beat the Doctor at chess, the TARDISeers materialise on Pluto, once said to be the outermost body in the Solar system until “Cassius” was discovered. This has all become very dated over the last few years!

K9 stays in the TARDIS for now (“Pluto’s no place for a…”) while the Doctor and Leela immediately prevent Cordo from throwing himself off the building, receiving some exposition in return.

Richard Leech is brilliant as the collector, the style of his performance being perfect for the character. Some of his lines would be just too dark if delivered too seriously- the line about how surviving for three years in the “correction centre” is almost unheard of makes it clear just how horrifyingly totalitarian this regime is.

Interestingly for a story where tax collectors are the bad guys (“Perhaps everyone runs from the taxman”) this doesn’t necessarily come across as a right wing satire- in fact it’s rather typical of Holmes in that, although deeply political, it doesn’t tell us a lot about what his politics were, although at least we’re left in no doubt that he’s no authoritarian. Besides, tax rates in the UK in 1977 were really rather high…

More good stuff- six suns, “the Inner Retinue”, a load of rebels includingVila- an excellent start.

Part Two

“I have the honour to remain, sir, your obedient servant. Etc. Etc.”

I love the friendliness of the Doctor’s cellmate, whose crime was curiosity, casually chatting about the horrors in store for the Doctor and himself- the sort of scene that only Holmes could write. PCM is another 1984-esque idea- an ingredient in the air to spread anxiety and keep the population docile. In fact, for all the surface focus on tax and economics- and there’ll be a lot more of that kind of thing- this is really Doctor Who Does 1984, more concerned with the nature of extreme tyranny than taxation per se. Cordo is quite clearly a Winston Smith figure and the Company is very Big Brother- there are loads of cameras everywhere for a start.

There’s a great scene between the Doctor and Gatherer Hyde, a P45 corridor (!) and we get to see Henry Woolf’s splendidly slimy Collector. Another great episode.

Part Three

“His Excellency has invoiced your execution.”

Another quietly shocking moment, as the Collector notes with incredulity that the captured Leela hasn’t been “numbered” as all “work units” are at birth. But this is where things turn around- I love the scene where the Doctor quickly manoeuvres himself from imminent torture victim to leader of a revolution, and it’s wonderful to see the glee with which everyone responds once persuaded that resistance is not useless after all. For the first time the company is questioned- what’s it for? Who gets all the profit?

I love the collector’s summary of the Doctor, from the company files, as having “a long history of violence and economic subversion.” But it’s not all wit and satire- there’s a real feeling of danger this episode as Leela faces execution by steaming, and this cliffhanger is one of the very best.

Part Four

“The work units are absolutely forbidden to see the light of the sun- it’s far too good for them!”

This whole episode is a joy, aside from a moment of disquiet towards the end. The Collector’s increasingly severe threats to the populace (“Grinding oppression of the masses is the only policy that pays dividends!”), the rebels’ increasing confidence and giddy happiness as they experience life without TCM, Marn joining the revolution to save her skin- very realistic, that!- the Gatherer being thrown off the building. This is Holmes’s swansong as a perm anent fixture of the series, and he really goes out on a high. A magnificent script. And, naturally, the Doctor buggers off immediately as soon as the fun bit finishes!

There’s one disquieting bit, though- I suspect nothing was meant by it, but it probably would have been a good idea not to make the villain a “Usurian”- ie a moneylender- of a different ethnic group to everyone else, as that could be interpreted in unfortunate ways!

Aside from that last point, a brilliant script, and fantastic performances all round. I very nearly gave it a 5/5 but the sets are so appalling I’m going to have to take away a point. 4/5, but a very high one.

Doctor Who: The Talons of Weng-Chiang

Part One

“You’ve been drinking.”

“Not a drop, sir.”

“Then it’s time you started.”

An unusual way of starting a story, straight into the backstage area of a Victorian theatre, but effective, and a brilliant setting from the outset. The constant stream, of great Robert Holmes starts as soon as Henry Gordon Jago starts talking (“I’d have propelled him on to the pavement with a punt up the posterior”), not to let up for six whole episodes. We’re also presented with mysterious and disturbing goings-on from the start, with a missing woman and a ventriloquist’s dummy able to move on its own.

The Doctor and Leela arrive, both in Victorian clothing and the Doctor in a deerstalker. The Doctor wants to show Leela how her “ancestors” enjoyed themselves (she’s human, then) but they’re caught up in trouble very quickly and asked to return to the police station. The Doctor’s gradual shift from suspect to taking charge is expertly and amusingly done.

Aside from the clothes and the general surroundings, a reference to “Jolly Jack” implies that the Whitechapel murders must be fairly recent, giving us a rough idea of when we are. Some of the characters are heard to express a few less than enlightened attitudes to Chinese people, however. To an extent this can be said to simply reflect the time depicted and there’s certainly no indication of any overtly racist intent in the script- Chang’s line “I understand we all look the same” actually undercuts the policeman’s attitudes quite nicely, even if said to the Doctor. But some of the story’s dialogue as presented would probably make the story unbroadcastable today, which is unfortunate but understandable- next episode Litefoot will refer to an “inscrutable chink”. A shame, as a simple ironic comment from the Doctor upon hearing some of these comments, something analogous to the line “It’s political correctness gone mad” from The Shakespeare Code, would probably have done the trick. But let’s not get started on John Bennett’s face make-up!

Oh dear, it’s a giant rat. Moving swiftly on…

Part Two

“A hat box?”

We get some answers here- Chang has a boss with a hidden face, who lives in an underground lair which, this being the Hinchcliffe era, is full of bottles containing bubbling, brightly coloured liquids. He speaks of “Time Agents”. Hmm. No doubt a one-off throwaway line. I’m sure we’ll hear no more of this.

There’s a lot of fun in this episode- I love the Doctor’s magic tricks and Jago’s exasperation, and Litefoot’s reaction to Leela’s eating habits are a joy. It’s only the second episode and already it’s clear that both Litefoot and Jago are more than ordinary supporting characters, both being exceptionally well written and played.

Part Three

“Explode? Unthinkable! It was made in Birmingham.”

Only Robert Holmes could satisfactorily resolve a proper get-out-of-that cliffhanger by having Leela distract the Doctor by jumping out of a window, for entirely valid reasons. This story is great! The Doctor’s fab in this episode, from “Sleep is for tortoises” to the map on Litefoot’s tablecloth to the quoted line. Apparently the Doctor once fished in the Fleet with the Venerable Bede, who’d come down south for some reason.

But there’s lots more good stuff- I particularly enjoy Jago’s “explaining” what’s happening to Casey. Plus Leela continues to be great, sneaking into Weng-Chiang’s lair and escaping again. Only the giant rat is in any way disappointing, and that we shall not speak of.

Part Four

“He’s gone to join his ancestors.”

We start with more amusing dialogue between Jago and Casey, and the episode centres around a performance by Chang in front of the watching Doctor. The moment where Chang points a gun at the Doctor only to shoot the cards is gripping stuff, but ironically Chang has been sacked by his master and has no agenda here but to entertain. So it’s shocking to him as well as Jago and the Doctor when Casey’s corpse is made to appear on stage- a turning point in the story.

It’s partly as though the initial four-parter is concluded, as we end with Weng-Chiang in possession of the time cabinet, waiting for the final two-parter to begin…

Part Five

“I may have had a bang on the head but this is a dashed queer story.”

We start to get some real explanations here: Mr Sin is in fact the “Peking Homonculus from the year 5000, where there is apparently an Ice Age. He has the cerebral cortex of a pig and almost started World War VI- some pleasingly random world-building there. And we get some ratcheting up of the villainy from Weng-Chiang, with the traditional scene of an underling being forced to commit suicide for the crime of failure.

I love the way Litefoot describes the area the Doctor and Leela as being full of “scenes of vice and squalor”, but, this being a tea-time show, we see nothing but the underside of a trap door! Meanwhile, Jago and Litefoot finally meet, and about time too. Jago’s dismissal of the police is classic Holmes: “we all know they’re solid, sterling fellows, but their buttons are the brightest thing about them”- shades of authorial voice from our ex-copper scribe here?

I love Leela’s attitude, deciding with real anger in her voice, to set up an ambush for Weng-Chiang. Louise Jameson is great.

Part Six

“Let the talons of Weng-Chiang rend your flesh!”

A superb finale. It’s pretty much all go from the off, but we also get room for a nice character moment as Jago confesses his cowardice to Litefoot- it’s nice that he gets a chance to be brave later on, distracting Greel while Leela reaches for the gun. There’s also more backstory- the Filipino army, a final advance on Reykjavik, Greel as the “butcher of Brisbane”. We also get a hint of just how nasty a dictator he was: “At my camps, the extraction process was considered the most painful of all.”

But of course he is defeated, and we finish with one of the best final scenes ever, from Litefoot’s attempts at Eliza Doolittling Leela to the contrasting reactions of Jago and Litefoot to the dematerialising TARDIS.

A magnificent story, not quite as good as its reputation but easily a high 5/5.