"No bug-eyed monsters!". That was the original injunction laid down by Sydney Newman at the BBC when he and Verity Lambert came up with the idea for a time-travel programme for children called Doctor Who. But when production for the originally-intended second story fell through, the fledgling production staff found themselves in a bind, but with a script (originally intended to be fourth) by young Mr. Nation in hand. When the monsters of the series' first futuristic piece were designed, sure enough, they had a single, buggy eye, on a stalk, no less!

In truth, they looked ridiculous. Most commonly compared to pepper pots, completely lacking in manipulative appendages, the Dalek is an impractical mechanism, and an improbable success.

And yet, successful they were, owing largely to Nation's initial script. It's not their appearance that frightens, that generates tension...it's their psychology, their ruthless, selfish, merciless attitude toward the universe and everything in it. You can talk to a Dalek, but you can't reason with one, because, from the very first, it's clear that the Dalek mind doesn't work anything like the human mind, and they like it that way.

These earliest days of Doctor Who were very different from the hey day of Tom Baker and his successors. At this time, the Doctor was till a very unsympathetic character -- selfish, irascable, arrogant, occasionally charming and erratically brilliant. He's far more likely to cause trouble in his own self-interest than to fix things.

Instead, the heros of the piece wind up being the two human companions, Barbara and Ian -- particularly Ian, whose tendency to take a strong moral stance would rub off on the Doctor over the next couple of years, until, by the time of Ian's departure from the series, the Doctor, for all his increasing frailty, is much closer in temperament to the do-gooder of the next 25 years.

Almost all of this can be credited to Mr. Nation, who succeeded where Anthony Coburn (author of the first serial, "100,000 BC") had failed in bringing these characters to life. At a time when American adult television was still producing simplistic sitcoms with cardboard characters, Nation produced a script for children that properly introduced the four, very complex regulars, including a strong, intelligent female role model in Barbara.

The story itself is well paced for the style of story-telling they were going for back then -- somewhere between the purely episodic story-telling of modern American TV and the pure serial of a Flash Gordon. Tho' seven episodes long, it rarely drags.

Considering the budget they were on, the sets are incredibly elaborate. The petrified jungle where the TARDIS first lands is not nearly as cheesy as you might expect (the full-colour jungle in the 1976 episode "The Face of Evil" was far cheesier); the Dalek city is believably alien. Like the Daleks themselves, it's hard to understand how the city really functions at all, but that's not entirely a bad thing. The Daleks are supposed to be a little beyond our ken, after all.

But really, where the story shines is in the way it plays the main characters. The Doctor is marvelously ambiguous throughout, conniving and cheating in order to get to see the Dalek city (he doesn't know what it is, at the time), selfish and even slightly cowardly in the face of danger, and yet ultimately willing to do what seems to be the right thing.

Ian fulfills the role that in later years the Doctor himself would play -- agent provocateur. Ian understands where the extreme pacifism of the Thals comes from, but he refuses to accept it as a valid solution to the current problem. His reinforcement of those Thals who want to take action to save themselves tips the scales. The Daleks would spend centuries blaming the Doctor for all their problems, but in this first meeting, it's Ian they really have to worry about.

One of the most remarkable characters in Doctor Who's long run is Barbara Wright. The series would have occasional lapses (like Jo Grant), but this story establishes the more general rule that female companions, even if they scream a lot, will have brains in their head and be willing and able to take independent action. In this case, Barbara also has a heart of her own. In the earliest conception, Ian and Barbara were already a couple, but by the time the series came to air, their romance had been removed in favor of a professional friendship. This left Nation free to have Barbara get attached to one of the Thal men, providing a sympathetic hook and helping to make the Thals themselves more than just J Random Humanoid Alien With a Problem. Whether because Nation is a romantic, or because it's a children's program, there's never anything very overt about the bond that forms, but it's clear at the end that Barbara is actually a little reluctant to leave.

Susan probably fares the worst, and yet even she doesn't do too badly. While more prone to panic, she's also much younger, and very sheltered until recently. She still manages, however, to be useful and resourceful. She stands in adequately for all the younger audience who might well react the same way under those circumstances. The human adults provide excellent role models, while Susan provides someone for the kids to identify with.

Watching this story again today, there's little question as to why it was this serial that established Doctor Who as a success. While one couldn't predict a 27-year television run on the strength of this story, one can certainly see why people started tuning in more regularly. If you've never seen any of the William Hartnell stories, this is a good place to start.

It's hard to convey to someone who has never seen it just how truly dreadful 'The Time Monster' is. Its greatest flaw is that the plot and script are utterly appalling, and with this basis pedestrian direction, cheap set design and mediocre acting certainly cannot help it. 

So, the plot. Ironically, the plot doesn't actually contain any obvious holes per se, but somehow it manages to combine tedium and absurdity to plumb new depths. The idea of Kronos itself isn't bad, but the execution is terrible; this world-destroying threat to reality is realized as a large pigeon and is thoroughly unimpressive, combining a tacky costume with bad camera work that makes it plain that this is a man in a suit swinging backwards and forwards on a wire. The exact nature of the threat posed by Kronos is also glossed over, so that we never get anything other than a vague idea of what it is capable of; when Kronos appears in Atlantis in episode six, the set wobbles a bit and everybody falls over, whilst the Doctor and the Master dash into their TARDISes and safety. In addition, Kronos' ability to devour people is equally vague; it is said to devour people early on in the story, but this is changed to throwing them into the vortex instead in episodes four and five, for the truly ghastly deus ex machina resolution to the episode four cliff-hanger, with the Jo pulling a Big Red Switch to rescue the Doctor. Handy that such a function is on hand just in case… 

The lack of menace inherent in 'The Time Monster' is not solely due to the under whelming nature of Kronos, but also the reaction of the Doctor to it. Whilst I'm no fan of 'The Dæmons', at least in that story the Doctor conveys a true sense of urgency about the danger posed by Azal, a threat to the entire world. Forced to deal with Kronos, a threat to the entire universe, he makes glib remarks, seems generally relaxed, and messes around with his time flow analogue, a ludicrous plot device serving only as padding. And possibly humour, although not noticeably. Padding is painfully noticeable here, and it isn't very good padding; the scene in which the Doctor and the Master confront each other whilst their TARDISes are locked together is ludicrous for example. After several stories in which the Master has proved that he is unbalanced enough to toy with forces way beyond his ability to control properly, are we really expected to believe that the Doctor genuinely thinks that he can convince him of his folly by lecturing him from his own TARDIS? The only purpose served by this is to delay the Doctor actually leaving his TARDIS and facing the Master, so that the Master will summon Kronos to deal with him in time for the cliffhanger. 

The return of UNIT doesn't help the story and possibly contributes to the annoying cosy feeling that dispels any air of danger that could have been present otherwise. To be fair, Benton is quite good here, except when he falls the Master's "look behind you" trick. This not only detracts from his near outwitting of the Master just moments before, but also doesn't make sense, since he has his back to a closed door, which has just seen shut, and would clearly have heard if anyone had just opened it. The Brigadier is virtually useless here and I also can't help wondering why, if he's so sure that the Master will return to the TOMTIT lab, he doesn't search the research establishment, where he would soon have found the Master lurking in Percival's study. He knows the Master is dangerous, the Doctor has warned him that TOMTIT is dangerous, and yet he just shrugs and says that the Master will turn up, making no attempt to actually guard the lab. Yates also returns here, and whilst he is fortunately gets little to do, he is as annoying as ever, equipped as he is with his usually arsenal of cheeky comments to superior officers, a familiar strain on UNIT's credibility. He's also an excuse for more ridiculous padding; the Master seems to really want to stop the Doctor's TARDIS from reaching its destination, so why doesn't he just time-scoop the V1 bomb in the first place instead of messing about with knights on horseback and roundheads? And for that matter, if the Master time-scooped the V1 so that it exploded in the present, it can't have landed in the past, so the old local couldn't remember it doing so. Having said that, virtually no thought seems to have gone into the time-related technobabble whatsoever. The stuff about the Chronovores existing outside time works in the context of Doctor Who makes sense (the concept of things existing outside of time and space was touched on in 'The Mind Robber'), but the waffle about interstitial time isn't even remotely plausible technobabble, the line about time being made "up of little bits" a particularly dire example of the kind of gibberish on display here.

Once the story moves to Atlantis, things get even worse. Mercifully, all the actors make a real effort, and Ingrid Pitt as Galleia and George Cormack as Dalios both handle the diabolical cod-Shakespearian dialogue rather well, but the script is really cringe-worthy by this point. Delgado's portrayal as the Master is always worth watching, but here he struggles with some dreadful lines (calling Krasis a poltroon is a classic example) and generally ranting in a moustache-twirling fashion. I wouldn't mind so much if the Master was on his usual form, but he doesn't really seem to be trying here, just going through evil motions. Which also raises the question of why, since he seems genuinely annoyed here when UNIT and the Doctor track him down, he even bothers to establish TOMTIT in England in the first place. Sadly, during his final scene when the Master begs the Doctor to save him from Kronos, even Delgado seems to be hamming it up. He also adopts an unconvincing and extremely sporadic Greek accent. 

There's more. The Atlantean costumes look absurd. The Atlanteans, supposedly Greek, are clearly not (although I suppose I should be grateful that this spares us the uncomfortable sight of "blacked-up" actors). The Minotaur is crowbarred into the script in order to hammer home the fact that the Chronovores had an impact on mythology, and is the crowning turd. I don't even think the much-praised "daisiest daisy" scene is especially good, although this is of course down entirely to personal taste. Also how come the Doctor's TARDIS is suddenly working perfectly without outside intervention?

The two main regulars offer some solace. Pertwee, whilst not quite recovered from 'The Mutants', seems more interested in the script than he did in that story, although as noted above he's rather too laid back. Katy Manning is excellent, and Jo gets to play a key role, first rescuing the Doctor using the Big Red Switch, and later time-ramming the TARDISes to save the universe when the Doctor can't bring himself to do so. Sadly, it isn't enough; 'The Time Monster' is a shambles, and a dire end to a season that started so well. It is worth noting however, that if you are childish enough, there is one reason to watch 'The Time Monster'; I always thought that this was a fan myth, but I've listened to it carefully three times to be sure and in episode three, when the Doctor is supposed to say "Do buck up, Brigadier", Pertwee definitely says "Do f*ck up, Brigadier". Which is a lot more amusing than the thraskin/plinge conversation.

This is a somewhat overlooked, though well produced and entertaining story. 

Paul Clarke has written an excellent review that details the plot – that an alien energy wants to subjugate the earth in the fifteenth century, and that this power struggle is mirrored by power struggles on earth. Ultimately, the struggle for power is shown as futile here, and the thoughtful and empathetic Giuliano is (naturally and appropriately, I think) portrayed as an ideal ruler. Spoilers follow. 

As Mr. Clarke mentions, the story is, despite good supporting acting, the usually strong regulars, and a decent production, somehow unsatisfying. I think perhaps it comes down to the conclusion, and a little too much going unexplained. First, we aren’t allowed to see the conclusion of the battle between the Doctor and this alien force. While the reasons for this are clear – that the Doctor later appears in the guise of that same alien force and leads it to its own destruction – we still want a little more there. The attempt to create suspense is admirable, but undermined by the fact that we don’t really believe the alien force has destroyed the Doctor and won the day. In other words, the climax we’ve been building to is cut short in favour of another climax, where the disguised Doctor leads all the brethren (or, what remains of this alien energy helix) back to the same ruins they came from. From there, it’s the same glowing energy effect we’ve seen before, and all of them dropping to the ground. 

That said, it’s still a pleasure to watch these regulars, and the Doctor and Sarah have some nice moments, in particular a scene in episode four where the Doctor is doing some calculations and Sarah tiptoes to a chair to read and wait. It’s perhaps a tad sexist, but also has to be remembered we’re talking about a Timelord and a human, here. The conversation that follows is an interesting example of Doctor Who:

“Mandragora doesn’t conquer in the physical sense, it dominates and controls by helix energy – astral force. It takes away from man the only thing worth having.”

“Which is?”

“Well, a sense of purpose, what else? The ability granted to every intelligent species to shape its own destiny.” 

Here we see the typical vagueness of a Doctor Who plot device (“astral force”) put up against some solid themes and ideas, in the same breath, as the Doctor continues on about a sense of purpose. A sense of purpose is further illustrated in the plot: there are power struggles between the Mandragora energy alien and the Doctor (who wants humanity to have a sense of purpose) and the potential human rulers Count Federica and Guliano (Guliano would allow his people a sense of purpose). 

In a sense, this makes the entire fourth episode anti-climactic, as Count Federico is blasted to dust at the end of episode three. And we know the Doctor will go on to defeat the Mandragora energy. It’s possible that the best Doctor Who stories combine these kinds of themes and ideas without leaving the viewers scratching their heads about surface details and plot devices (we’re told at the end simply that the Mandragora has been sent “back to square one”). That said, this is an entertaining story with some worthwhile moments, such as the Doctor telling Guliano at the end that knowledge will come in time, and that keeping an open mind is the secret. And surely allowing others to create their own purpose, and explore their own pathways, is a part of keeping an open mind? As Sarah says, “Poor Guliano, he looks so wistful,” but Guliano is actually a brave character – he has the courage to be uncertain.

So, 'The Five Doctors' is simple, slightly flawed Sunday evening fun. This would be the problem some people have the tendency to make it out to be if simple, slightly flawed sunday evening fun Dr. Who stories weren't in the majority throughout its long run.

I admit, I was a quite the young whippersnapper when I first saw 'The Five Doctors' and when I saw it again, years later, it didn't hold up to my memories. However, it still holds up well, with the story and links all holding together despite all the different threads, due to so many characters, that are flapping foot loose and fancy free in the wind. 

All involved give good performances, particularly Jon Pertwee, who slips back into his role with complete ease. As ever, I enjoyed Anthony Ainley as the Master, me being one who has never understood criticism of him or the Master character.

Richard Hurdnall never fails to amaze me with his performance as the First Doctor. OK, so he's missing a few of the characteristics William Hartnell brought to the role, but trying to act the same character in the same way another actor did is difficult at the best of times, let alone such a known role that Hartnell had made very much his own.

It's my opinion that if you like Who in general, you'll like this. Perhaps more could have been done with the premise, but they did only have 90 minutes rather than several episodes. I think it's a very high-ranking piece of Who glory.

The Hand of Fear is something of a roller coaster ride for fans, as we dip fairly frequently between good and bad writing, decent and below average production values. Ultimately, it’s worth seeing for some of the ideas, and some of the character moments. 

We begin with some guys in parkas on a planet talking about an “obliteration module,” some barriers, and a traitor. Having seen the story and gone back and watched this prologue, it makes a certain amount of sense, but the first time it was nearly incomprehensible. A very cheap looking ship blows up, and then we’re away to earth for the story to really begin. Given that a mysterious severed hand appears, and the first two episodes begin to gather some suspense, one wonders why the prologue (which, though incoherent, threatens to give away that the hand is the fragment of an alien, perhaps even “the traitor Eldrad”) was included at all. As it turns out, this is indeed a fragment of Eldrad, an alien who brought down barriers that allowed for the destruction of his own world, centuries ago. 

Now we dip back to some positive points: Sarah Jane Smith as a possessed villain is interesting to watch, and given that Eldrad eventually takes two forms (one far more alien, subtle and fascinating to watch than the other) it’s interesting that there are two Sarah’s as well. There is a small moment when Sarah walks up to a guard looking like a confused, innocent woman, and then zaps him. I’m not sure if it’s meant as a metaphor, or statement about different sides to the same personality (or possibly male and female tendencies – the female Eldrad is far more reasonable) but it has potential. Most of that potential is thrown away at the end with Stephen Thorne (as the second, male Eldrad) apparently encouraged to do some stereotypical ranting. We say goodbye to any possibility of a subtle story about an Eldrad who destroyed the barriers that protected her world and now regrets it. Apparently, the writers felt that either Eldrad was good and trying to help her people, or was evil and destroyed the barriers. Finally, they voted for the evil Eldrad, and the best you can say about it is that it’s a twist. 

Some more good points: good effects for the severed hand, and some great moments with the Doctor and Sarah, such as when they admit to worrying about each other. Sarah is undoubtedly the best screaming companion ever, and she has a few opportunities here to let loose. When I was growing up my friend had a TV where you could fiddle with the channels, and get the sound from one channel with the picture from another – so you’d put on a newscaster and listen to Sarah Jane Smith screaming and blubbering, something both funny and surreal. Of course, this story has Sarah’s famous departure scene, which is wonderfully written and acted. And I laughed out loud at one previous exchange between the Doctor and Sarah, after some famous Sarah Jane Smith blubbering:

“Stop making a fuss Sarah, you’re from South Croydon!”

“Eh?”

“You’re a carbon based life-form. The gas is only effective against silicon structures.”

“Oh.”

Unfortunately, while the scenes between the Doctor and Sarah are injected with real warmth and feeling, the same writers fall into deadening patters with Eldrad and company, so that repeats of “Eldrad must live!” give way to repeats of “They thought they could destroy me, but they were wrong!” Certainly, not long after Judith Paris no longer plays Eldrad, I found myself not really caring about this planet or these people at all. And unfortunately, due to budget restrictions, it feels like the planet had a population of about six anyway. Finally it comes down to a brief, pointless chase. Despite the potential that bleeds away there, the story is worth watching through to the end for Sarah’s farewell.

When I first saw this, in 1986, I thought it was pretty naff. I was eighteen at the time and trying to wean myself off doctor who, and it didn't help that my elder brother, a non dw fan, kept laughing at the programme. I suppose from a non fan's point of view, Drathro did look pretty lame, the scene where the green food drops on Balazah's face fairly cringe-worthy and the tribe of the free just a kiddies version of the Sevateem.

It must be remembered that we had grown up on stories such as Pyramid of Mars, Talons of Weng-Chiang, etc, and so were judging this story in comparison. I kept wishing for something dramatic to happen, like Peri dying or something , just to shut my brother up. Oh, my prophetic soul! For in the very next story, which of course my brother didn't see...

But now I watch this story and regard it as something of a classic. The excellent dialogue (the Canadian goose indeed!), Glitz, the Queen.....all of it is brilliant and fast moving. I can sit back from it now and see more than the lack of violence into the cleverness of the plot itself. I even love the look of Drathro! Most gripping stuff, and Colin Baker of course superb as the Doctor.