Disc One: Shada:

• From the outset it feels like the story is being introduced by Professor Geoffrey Hoyt, as Tom struts around the old MOMI Museum Doctor Who exhibits in a suit straight out of Medics. His delivery is also quite OTT, though fortunately the actual narration is delivered in a matter-of-fact way (and as the Doctor).
• Watch out for Professor Chronotis's magic spectacles in episode two!
• The major plot point of needing Salyavin's mental agility is perhaps of less importance if you consider the Doctor demonstrated this ability with himselves in The Three Doctors, or more recently with Craig in The Lodger!
• The one genuine recorded effect of the two TARDISes in the vortex actually looks quite poor in comparison with the 1992 CGI ...
• ... though the "blocky" effects used in some places feel very dated!
• Nobody seems to know why Clare's hair changes from severe scientist bundle to a more feminine wavy loose style in episode five - maybe her shock at the sparking console had more of an effect on her than originally thought ...
• K9 seems to be back under the influence of the Shadow at one point, judging by the Danger, Doctor exclamations as Think Tank explodes.
• There was a proposal for romantic interest between Chris and Romana ... half-human on his father's side?!?!
• Christopher Neame spends way too much of his time resembling Julian Glover!
• If you consider Shada as part of the canon then there's plenty of Time Lord lore here to challenge Robert Holmes! Time Lords are allowed to retire on alien planets so long as they don't have a TARDIS. Time-Tots (an unscripted line by Lalla Ward now often quoted in the never-ending debate over Time Lord procreation). Time Lord bodies fade out of existence in their final death (is that what was potentially happening to the Doctor in The Five Doctors?).

Disc Two: Extras:

Disc Three: More Than Thirty Years In The TARDIS:

Conclusion:

Next Time:

Poor old Meglos always seems to be the overlooked, under appreciated child of season eighteen. Sandwiched between the new-look relaunch story The Leisure Hive and the TARDIS crew-changing trilogy of the E-Space stories, its lack of any particular hook or event which makes it an important part of either the mythos of the show or the nature of its production means it tends to be rather forgotten about.

Which is a great shame, and I hope its turn to be released on DVD sees it getting a little more recognition than it hitherto has. Although it does have some of the po-faced faux-science that runs through all of season eighteen (why not just call it a “Time Loop”, rather than a “Chronic Hysteresis”?), it runs at a much faster pace and has a much more involving story than its immediate predecessor, with John Flanagan and Andrew McCulloch doing a good job of creating an interesting story of science versus religion with characters who you actually want to know what happens to them.

Nowhere does their ability to create worthwhile characters come across more than the main villain, Meglos, who is possibly the most interesting villain to turn up anywhere in this season. His first appearance, as the random cactus with the disembodied voice, ought to seem utterly absurd and ridiculous, but somehow the vocal performance lends a genuine air of intellect and menace. As the story moves along, Tom Baker’s performance as Meglos impersonating the Doctor also works well.

Admittedly it does have to be said that Meglos impersonating the Doctor creates one of the weak points of the story, when the Tigellan scientists are so ready to accept that the Doctor has been impersonated, and to believe his story. It’s a shame that in a script where they generally do so well that Flanagan and McCulloch do lapse into some lazy writing every now and again – another case in point being Romana leading the Gaztaks, who hitherto been interesting and funny characters, round and round in circles through the forest like a bunch of space morons. And on another note, why didn’t they recognise her from their watching of the Chronic Hysteresis on Meglos’s screen, anyway...?

Quibbles aside, the aforementioned forest is one of the better ones to have been attempted within the confines of a multi-camera studio on Doctor Who down the years. In fact, the whole of Meglos looks pretty damn good – Terence Dudley having perhaps his finest outing as a director on the programme. He’s able to get the infamous lighting levels down for some of the Gaztak spaceship and Deon worship scenes, and he’s lucky enough to have great support from make-up (the Meglos cactus facial make-up on Christopher Owen and Tom Baker) and the more technical departments (the excellent Scene-Sync work).

There’s a very good guest cast been recruited, too – notably Bill Fraser, Frederick Treves and yes, even Jacqueline Hill coming back to a series that must have been so bamboozingly different from that little programme she left back in Lime Grove all those years ago. She’s let down by Lexa’s death scene, though – which is rushed, pointless and basically thrown away.

If you’ve not seen Meglos before, or if you haven’t given it a look for some time, I’d recommend picking this up if you get the chance. You might be pleasantly surprised – it’s a reminder that even in its uncelebrated instalments, Doctor Who can provide more entertainment than an average piece of television.

Extras

As always, we’re spoiled on Doctor Who, with even a “run of the mill” story such as Meglos receiving a bonus feature package which puts most feature films to shame. The commentary, which features Lalla Ward, John Flanagan, Christopher Owen and Paddy Kingsland, probably doesn’t contain anything startlingly insightful, but is amiable enough, and it’s interesting to note how on occasion Ward seems to slip into a moderator-type role, leading the discussion and asking questions of the others.

My favourite of the bonus features was Meglos Men, an interesting way of looking at the writing of the story. Rather than simply being talking heads in a studio, Flanagan and McCulloch meet up and travel around some of their old London haunts in a very nicely-shot and interesting feature which even sees them pop round Christopher H. Bidmead’s house. I don’t think they’re writers who will be as familiar to most Who fans as some others who have worked on the series, so it’s worth a look to find out a bit more about the background to the writing of the serial.

The Scene Sync Story is an interesting look at the technology behind the innovation which helped make the Zolfa-Thuran scenes of Meglos look so good, locking two cameras of a Chromakey shot together. I am very interested in this sort of behind the scenes, production history nitty-gritty, although I appreciate it’s not everyone’s cup of tea.

The Jacqueline Hill documentary, A Life in Pictures, is very welcome, although I couldn’t help but feel it would have been nice for it to have been longer, and to have included some more clips of her work outside of Doctor Who. I appreciate that this probably would have involved clearance costs, though, and doubtless the money was better spent elsewhere on the release.

I didn’t like Entropy Explained very much – this sort of ‘educational’ type feature may be an interesting idea for a different type of extra, but I just don’t think it works. It’sDoctor Who, after all, not real science, and exploring the real scientific concepts stories may sometimes play with probably only flags up how dodgy the science of the stories often is. Plus it doesn’t seem to be able to decide if it’s trying to be serious or funny, with the presentation style playing it straight, but the captions throwing inHitch-Hiker’s Guide jokes and shampoo advert reference

The plot is that the Doctor and Romana land on a cargo ship carrying human sacrifices to the minotaur-like Nimon. The Nimon promise whatever the leaders of a world want but con them to consume those worlds. The leader (Soldeed) is played as an over the top leader who only desires military conquest. The victims are not well acted not are their characters well developed. Originally aired during the holiday season 1979-1980 there are a number of laughs and it plays like a pantomime. I hadn't seen this story since the late 80’s and I remember that when I had seen it for the first time it was not one of my favorite stories. 

However I watched this recently with my 8 year old daughter. She was riveted for all four episodes and especially enjoyed K9.

The Nimon costume was a huge bull-like head with yellow horns. The face is not animated in any way so it is not clear if we see the face or if this is a helmet. The body was covered with black nylon and 6-inch platform shoes to suggest a hoof-like foot. These monsters seemed intelligent but they had slow-moving stiff bodies and roared so much (for no apparent reason) that they always warned our heroes before they are about to turn a corner in the labyrinth. I think that they looked hilarious, but my daughter accepted them as proper monsters although she said that they were “weird”. As a species the Nimon just don’t work for me. There is no biological explanation other than comparing them to locusts. However we don’t observe anything resembling a swarm and it’s hard to see anything locust-like in a labyrinth-dwelling minotaur. It is hard to understand how they would be an interplanetary threat. An entire species whose ecology is predicated on the successful con of one space traveling individual doesn’t make sense. It works as a dramatic devise but it seems like nonsense to me.

The plot was not particularly imaginative since human sacrifice, elaborate cons to set up an invasion, and megalomaniac leaders are common Doctor Who plot devises, but the story was sufficiently interesting and paced to carry a four part story. For me it is one of the weaker examples of Doctor Who but a fun camp romp. From the perspective of an 8 year old it works. In her words the story was “cool”.

** out of 4

I put off reviewing this story for a while, as I feel so strongly about it it’s difficult to say if I could be objective enough to do it justice. I first saw this story in about 1992, when I was eight. Even at that tender age, I could tell that there was something about this story that set it apart from others, even if I couldn’t necessarily articulate why at the time. Almost a decade and a half later, having got me some learnin’, I feel like I might be able to explain why City Of Death is my candidate for that ever-shifting title: Best Episode Ever.

The opening scene looks rather ordinary at first; although the atmospheric music helps there’s a definite studio-set-and-painted-backdrop to the prehistoric landscape, although Michael Hayes’s classy direction sees a smooth pan to the brilliant model of the Jagaroth ship that makes up for it. Immediately the viewer is thrown into a mystery – all we can gather is that these aliens are in trouble. Who are they? Where are they? Why are they in danger? Why is their future in the hands of a single pilot? We don’t know, and it's a long time before we find out. This story pushes the limits of what the audience would find acceptable in storytelling terms – and by sailing so close to the wind, Doctor Who has never been so successful. To cap it all there’s the marvellous special effect of the ship exploding, followed by one of the series most distinctive pieces of direction: a slow fade from the burning wreckage to the flowers on the Eiffel Tower.

The story of how this story was written is well known, but despite the hectic production Douglas Adams’s style is as distinctive as ever, and the slight self-consciousness of the dialogue is eased through by the breezy naturalism of Tom Baker and Lalla Ward. Their conversation is whimsical but always intelligent – the story never patronises the viewer, the jokes never seem gratuitous, and despite talking about their travels the episode never veers into metafictional smugness. The scene on the Tower is just two intellectual equals riffing off each other, which gets round my usual complaint of opening TARDIS scenes where the characters have nothing to say to each other before the plot gets going.

One criticism often levelled at this episode is the number of location scenes that pad out the episodes. I think they’re forgivable given the hurried nature of the scripts, but I think they help the story as much as anything by adding to its sense of easy-going stylishness. Hayes directs them beautifully, keeping shots interesting by filming through leaves for example, and they’re elevated to greatness by the programme’s best ever music score, a lilting, freefalling orchestral piece from Dudley Simpson – nine out of ten of his scores were terrible, but that tenth was a humdinger. Funny though how all the best stories have great music (The Invasion being another example). It makes me wonder if they’re slipping in subliminal messages.

This leaps straight into the laboratory scene with Julian Glover and David Graham. The episode is made out of a jumble of elements, and it’s not immediately clear what the connection between them is; as I said, the story pushes the limits of what’s acceptable to an audience. Graham is theatrical without being really cheesy, and Julian Glover is fantastic as a villain with proper motivations, who doesn’t just want to wipe out a race or take over a planet for its own sake; his suaveness masks his desperation just as his skin masks his true identity (oh, get me). What always makes me laugh though are the banks of computers, with their tape reels that start spinning, stop, and then reverse. It’s an element of the story that hasn’t stood the test of time so well, but in general the set design of this story is extremely good. I love Scarlioni’s casual order to sell a Gutenberg Bible – it’s the kind of line that requires Adams’s total fearlessness to work.

And now, the cafe scene. Much as I like the Doctor’s very in-character skimming of the book (I refuse to use the word “Doctorish”), it’s getting to the point now where I want something to happen, enjoyable as the whimsy is. Fortunately the first time slip occurs and keeps things interesting, with a very simple but effective scene. The only confusing element is the artist, who was apparently a product of David Fisher’s original idea and has little relevance to the final product. It’s still an enigmatic moment, and I can forgive the hurried script editing.

Romana’s complaints about the Mona Lisa I think are pitch-perfect, although I can appreciate why they’re not to everybody’s tastes. I’m not a fan of jokey Doctor Who, but all the humour in this story is strictly in context and for a purpose, which in retrospect is something that maybe should have made clearer earlier in the episode. It’s difficult not to notice Pat Gorman, one of the show’s most-used extras) hanging around in the background (although nothing tops The Monster Of Peladon, where his character gets shot and then a few scenes later he’s back playing a different extra).

Duggan, like Kerensky, is a collage character made up of stock elements of the detective cliché; this is the point of the story, since these are put into stark contrast with the more serious themes that surface later. This story does for clichéd characters what Philip Hinchcliffe did for horror. The alien bracelet stolen from the Countess is another nice dose of mystery, putting the Doctor’s behaviour into context – he isn’t just larking about. It warms my heart to see the Doctor order drinks (water, naturally) with such authority while at gunpoint. His excuse to Duggan that “we’ve only just landed on Earth” is one of my all time favourite quotations, and one I use a lot when small children accusingly tell me that everyone on Earth’s heard of some footballer or other.

The cliffhanger to part one is sensational, although a bit contrived since the only reason Scarlioni takes his mask off is to provide the episode ending. What’s notable though is that this is the first time we see that the opening scene has any relevance whatsoever, although we still don’t know exactly what; if this revelation has been left any later it wouldn’t have worked, but as it is it’s a great twist. I’m willing to overlook how Scaroth fits inside the skin – if the explanation involves him farting like an old farmer then frankly I can live with the dramatic licence. 

Catherine Schell gives a good performance in what is not one of the programme’s more empowering roles; that is the point though, and Schell effectively portrays a character blind to just how powerless she really is. Tom Baker overacts in his first scene with her, but again it’s not gratuitous and the Countess sees right through him. The Doctor’s line of “you’re a beautiful woman, probably” is again perfectly in character and Hermann’s reference to the Doctor’s “boring conversation” could seem like Adams poking fun at himself.

Locked in the cell the Doctor becomes suddenly serious, and we realise what he’s been doing; a quick recap of the plot so far shows us how unobtrusive the exposition has been up to this point. The famous chicken scene is fun (even if it did lead to the strangest DVD special feature of all time), and is validated by the sight of the Jagaroth at the end; all the story’s whimsy requires that kind of serious moment to justify it, and without exception it gets it. Kerensky is a sympathetic, pitiable character – a genuine philanthropist whose genius and good nature is misused. Ironically, he calls Scarlioni the philanthropist.

The old hidden-room schtick is well-worn but serviceable, with only Duggan smashing the wall annoying – polystyrene blocks (“make it look heavy, guys”) are one of my pet hates in this show. The six genuine Mona Lisas present a dazzlingly original set up, and I think what made the episode so unique to me as a child – this is a villain not only with a proper motivation but with thought gone into the logistics of his plan, and it’s a far more original than the standard “take over the planet / get the doomsday weapon / blow up the universe” fare.

It’s odd seeing Scarlioni demonstrate how the bracelet works since we never get to see it in action. Like the knocking out of the Countess, it might be something that was a leftover from the hasty writing process.

The Renaissance is represented by a single set, but it works well and the cliffhanger is a knockout – we go into the credits desperate to learn the answer to the mystery, and to cap it all it’s a well directed shot too. There are nice parallels between the scenes set in 1979 and 1505, showing that despite the odd wobble the story is really very tightly structured. However, in the third episode the exposition cranks up a bit, which jars considering how subtle it’s been up to now. Then again, when the plot’s as interesting as this I’m happy to listen to it be explained.

Perhaps the Polaroid is too indulgent, as it always jars to see modern technology used to defeat the villains in a historical setting. The Doctor writing “this is a fake” under the canvases of the future Mona Lisas, however, is one of the show’s best ever ideas. “The centuries that divide me shall be undone” – now that’s a cool line, and the Doctor’s seriousness towards it makes it seem all the more portentous.

I feel sorry for Kerensky when he realises the true nature of his work – he corrects “what we have been working on” to “what I have been working on” as he realises that the Count has been planning something totally different. Glover meanwhile becomes less controlled and more desperate – his performance is excellent.

Romana and Duggan have been in the cafe all night – what does the owner think when they come in in the morning, since Duggan has clearly broken in? And why do the gendarmes let the Doctor into the Louvre so quickly? The cliffhanger to part three is another good one, although more functional this time as it feels like a reason to write out a character whose usefulness is over.

Episode four contains more exposition, effectively breaking up these necessary scenes without confusing the viewer by withholding essential information. It’s a nice idea having the Doctor copy out the first draft of Hamlet (it harks back to Pertwee’s namedropping), although by this stage the point of these character moments has been made. He shows the Countess how little she really matters, making even her a sympathetic character.

The confrontation with the Count is a devastating scene, with Tom Baker on superb form with some seriously intense dialogue. This is followed by the killing of the Countess; despite the story having a mortality rate of over 44%, they are all the more shocking for occurring all (apart from Kerensky) in the final episode. There is a real sense of what’s a stake, although the story does need to make more of exactly how the ship taking off will affect the human race. Duggan breaks out of the cell so easily that there’s almost no point to it.

The famous John Cleese / Eleanor Bron cameo borders on smug, but it gets away with it because not only is it genuinely funny but it’s accurate too – believe me, this is how those people really talk. Really.

The last confrontation with Scaroth is decent, with more great dialogue, although his final defeat is a bit too quick; the very last scene, however, is just sublime with its “what is art” discussion, long shot of the Doctor and Romana running away, and another beautiful piece of music leading into the credits.

The mark of a classic is the extent to which its flaws can be ignored, and this is never easier than with City Of Death. Nothing anyone has ever made is perfect (the Mona Lisa, for example, no eyebrows), but with its plot, dialogue, characters and design City Of Death is as close as makes no difference.

Of all the stories of the notorious Season 17, this is the one I tend to re-watch the most. 

That's right, I even like it better than "City Of Death" (or, at least, seem to if you judge things by my viewing habits alone!). "City of Death" is great, don't get me wrong. But "Nightmare of Eden" is just a lot more fun. 

Okay, bad stuff out of the way right off the bat: Yes, I see all the same problems as everyone else does. Tryst's accent is simply awful and really does ruin what could have been a really great character. The "goofy mad scientist" personae has been used over and over in the series. Sometimes to its advantage (Proffessor Kettlewell in "Robot") and sometimes to its detriment (Proffessor Zaroff in "Underwater Menace"). So it's always a crapshoot for the production team to try to figure out how campy the character should get. Here, they made a bad call. 

Yes, I also see that the whole story looks massively cheap. But,well, which story from the classic series doesn't look cheap? Particularly as we move closer and closer to the end of the season. They're always running out of money with the later stories and this is just to be expected. As a fan, I learnt to understand these things and look past the budget problems. It's for this same reason that the "tinsel time corridor" in "Timelash" never bothered me much either! 

Finally, there's the comedy element. Didn't really irratate me, to be honest. In fact, most of Tom Baker's more OTT stuff never really grated on me. Most of the time, I enjoy it, actually. So many stories that would have really fallen flat, I felt, were enhanced by his re-writes and adlibs. To me, it seems as though he recognised when a script needed a little "extra push" of humour and would add it in to spice up some of the more dull scenes. Bearing all this in mind, this actually means that the much-maligned "Oh my arms! My legs! My everything!" moment was something I actually enjoyed! 

So, there you have it, most of the popular objections to this story don't really bother me. Which means that all the really good stuff about this story shines through all the more brilliantly. 

Firstly, we have a gorgeously tight plot. Possibly one of the tightest the show has ever had. Everything moves at a very nice pace with characters and situations weaving in and out of each other at all the right moments. It really is, in my opinion, a very excellently-plotted script. And this aspect alone of the script makes for some great watching.

Add to it, though, some very fun ideas. Many of which the show hasn't actually come up with before (which is something of a rarity by this point in the series). Yes, true enough, the CET machine is a re-hash of the mini-scope. But we've never really done a Doctor Who "drug smuggling storyline" before. And the whole concept of two ships that have collided but not actually blown each other up makes for some really imaginative storytelling. The sequences where they wander through the unstable zones are very fun and some of them even look quite visually impressive. Most memorable was the moment where Doctor falls to the ground and finds himself at the feet of a Mandrell. Very nice and stylised. 

Aside from Tryst, our supporting cast actually looks pretty good, for the most part. The two police officers from Azure are just there to poke fun at bureaucracy, as far as I'm concerned and they play the roles with the proper level of preposterousness (is that a word?!). The captain of the ship (didn't even recognise him as Irongron until another reviewer mentioned it) is, of course, the strongest of all the supporting cast and turns in some great performances both before and after he's high. Coupled with the performance is, of course, some great dialogue. Not just the "They're only economny class" but I love his whole little speech about "ships eating each other" too. 

The rest of the cast, although coming perilously close to "wooden" in some places, still turn in fairly strong performances. They're, essentially, the "straight men" to all the comedy so they're really just doing what they should be. Which means that, although we have some silly moments in this story, we also have some moments where it's taking itself quite seriously. And the drama is there in equal measures if you're willing to look for it. Which is more than can be said for some of the other stories of this season. 

So, final verdict. I find myself agreeing greatly with some of the other reviewers on this page. "Nightmare Of Eden" is a very underrated story. A plot so tight you can bounce quarters off of it and some really fun and original ideas at work. So what if the set wobbles a bit and the passengers are all wearing overalls and glasses?! If this kind of silliness affects your ability to enjoy the show, then why, in God's name, are you watching Doctor Who? Flip over to Star Trek - their mundane storylines have great sets and costumes!