Image of the Fendahl

Much like 'Horror of Fang Rock', 'Image of the Fendahl' feels very much like a product of the Hinchcliffe era, encapsulating the same feel of gothic horror that permeated many of the stories from the previous two seasons. In many ways, it bears similarities to 'Pyramids of Mars', with an ancient and powerful evil that even the Doctor is afraid of seeking release after millennia of inactivity, with revelations about the origins and evolution of humanity, and set as it is in an old priory with wooded grounds. Whilst it doesn't achieve quite the same reputation as its Egyptian-themed predecessor, it nevertheless repeats this same basic formula with impressive results. 

A large part of the success of 'Image of the Fendahl' is due to the brooding horror of the Fendahl itself, despite the fact that it doesn't actually get the opportunity to do much. From the moment the hitchhiker is killed by an unseen, slurping, thing in Episode One, the tone of the story is set; mist-shrouded woods, glowing skulls, and rapidly decaying corpses all create a sinister atmosphere. Once the Doctor starts to realize what he is facing in Episode Two, Baker's delivery of the Doctor's lines is as crucial to the suspense as it was in 'Pyramids of Mars', as he describes an ancient evil that has passed into even Gallifreyan legend. The revelation that the Doctor is frightened by the Fendahl is delivered in a subdued, quiet fashion, in Episode Three, but plays a significant role in emphasizing the danger of the Fendahl, as does the Doctor's grim assertion that if it isn't stopped there will be only one human left alive on Earth within a year. It is in this way that the danger posed by the Fendahl is conveyed; never quite complete during the story, and with no lines, the actual creature does little, but is carried by its reputation. The Doctor and Leela's abortive trip to the Fifth Planet in Episode Three is often described as padding, which isn't entirely unfair but benefits the story by revealing that the Fendahl is considered to be so lethal that the normally non-interventionist Time Lords took the precaution of time-looping its home world. 

The gulf between the Fendahl's actions and its reputation is nicely bridged by the ingenious concept of making it a gestalt entity. By ensuring that it never manages to complete itself, Boucher is able to write about a monster of enormous power, without necessitating a contrived means of defeating it, as was unfortunately the case with Azal in 'The Dæmons' and to a lesser extent with Sutekh in 'Pyramids of Mars'. With the gestalt incomplete, the Fendahl is vulnerable, the Fendahleen susceptible to the effects of salt. On the other hand, the story shows the Fendahl to be powerful enough even whilst it is recreating itself, having influenced mankind's evolution over millions of years in order to orchestrate its resurrection, able to create Fendahleen out of pure energy, and able to transform humans into other Fendahleen and of course the Core. The production generally rises to the challenge of making the Fendahl a foreboding menace; the Fendahleen look reasonably good (although the full sized model is far better than the model embryos), and although the director foolishly adopted the tactic of painting obviously false eyes on Wanda Ventham's eyelids, the Fendahl Core still manages to look chillingly austere, an effect aided by its eerie silence throughout. 

The tension and overall effectiveness of 'Image of the Fendahl' are also greatly aided by some great characterisation and acting. Although Edward Arthur's Colby is both obnoxious and irritating, the other characters are all engaging. Denis Lill is superb as the intense Fendelman, who misdirection initially casts as a villain, given his ruthless dedication to his work (his calculating attitude to the discovery of the hitchhiker's corpse does not create a favourable impression). His eventual realization of just what has underlain his work is well written, and his final appeal to Stael as he tries to convince him that "mankind has been used!" is delivered with an impressive air of desperation. Wanda Ventham is also quietly impressive as the doomed Thea Ransome, increasingly overwhelmed by terror as she finds herself being affected by the skull. Scott Fredericks' Maximillian Stael is a ranting madman, who veers over the top at times, but Fredericks' manages an enjoyable performance nevertheless, and Stael's eventual suicide is very well handled, as he achieves a kind of redemption after nearly unleashing a force that could have destroyed all life on Earth. However, my favourite guest cast member is Daphne Heard as Mrs. Tyler. Unusually for Doctor Who at this time, Mrs. Tyler is portrayed as somebody with a long interest in and knowledge of the occult, without being patronized by the Doctor. He quietly explains the scientific basis underlying her "gifts", but also accords her respect and doesn't make announcements such as "superstitious rubbish". I've never had any reason to believe in magic, but even so the Third Doctor's arrogant and patronizing dismissals of Miss Hawthorne in 'The Dæmons' left an unpleasant taste in my mouth, so I'm glad it isn't repeated here. Heard's performance is spot-on, mixing eccentricity and common sense in just the right amounts to create a likeable if slightly cantankerous character, and her delivery of the line "it were 'ungry for my soul" further adds to the implied menace of the Fendahl. She also gets some other great scenes, such as when she illogically argues with Geoffrey Hinsliff's Jack Tyler about distrusting men who wear hats. 

The regulars also do well here, as usual. K9 is sidelined due to his last-minute inclusion in the TARDIS crew (at least from Boucher's point of view), effectively giving the Doctor/Leela duo one last outing. Baker is still on fine form here, treating the story with great seriousness whenever necessary and convincingly suggesting that the Doctor is in great pain at the end of Episode Two. Jameson is as a good as ever, and Leela's character shines under the pen of her creator once more; her warrior instincts are on full display, and despite being unsettled by the Doctor's fear of the Fendahl, she demonstrates her usual approach to death, which is to face it head on with knife in hand. The rest of the production matches the high quality of the acting and scripting; the location filming meshes perfectly with the sets, and Dudley Simpson's incidental score works well without being intrusive. Overall, 'Image of the Fendahl' feels like the triumphant last gasp of the Hinchcliffe era and as one of Doctor Who's last real stabs at gothic horror it is a fine end to the era.