Survival

survival, despite being over-shadowed by some of its season 26 neighbours, is remarkable in many ways. Rona Munro's story is a complex tale, unusual in its tone, and full of unexpected juxtapositions. We see a grandiose, debonair Master plotting first in a dark, fur-lined hut and later in a grotty, mundane high rise flat - his civilised (albeit evil) nature disintegrating in the face of chaos; Perivale, oddly disconcerting in its somnambulant suburban dullness, and the hot, dusty planet of the Cheetah People.

Perhaps the most refreshing contrast, in a story exploring diverse themes and deepening the characterisation of the regulars, is the streak of humour in the script and performances. Although predominately in episode one, the light, naturalistic touch of the comedy resonates through the story, giving a realistic sheen to the tragedy and drama. The Doctor's cat-baiting, while flatly ignoring Ace, is wonderful, as is his shooing off of the lady whose garden he uses as a hiding place; and Hale and Pace, in retrospect, are suitably funny in the context.

Humour aside, Survival is a powerful story about, appropriately, surviving, and surviving in such a way that you don't harm others, or yourself, by losing your humanity. Even the Hale and Pace sequence, with the joke about the two friends and the lion, highlights the dilemma - can the animal instinct within us sit comfortably alongside our human urge (our human need) to help others, to stick by our friends? It could be viewed as a critique of Thatcher's Britain, Midge in episode three, a caricature of the 'successful' individual; the fittest has survived. But it doesn't require a socio-political reading - Survival is effective, thematically, on a more universal level, and the themes serve to make Ace an even more nuanced character than she already, at this point, is.

Just as in Remembrance of the Daleks, Ghostlight, and The Curse of Fenric, the Ace we meet is an immensely strong-willed individual - a survivor. It is inevitable that she (the companion who has always wanted to be 'free' in many senses) falls in love with the experience of running wild. But the presence of the Doctor controls her, keeping her selfish will to survive in check. A classic moment in Survival, easily missed, is the a split-second look on Ace's face - when the Doctor retrieves his hat - that speaks multitudes about the faith Ace has in the Doctor, no matter what happens. And in return, the Doctor has immense faith in her - her wild, aggressiveness will always be there, but while travelling in the TARDIS she is part of a team.

It doesn’t all work. The bike-duel; the scene where Karra and Ace run, in slow motion, across the open plain; and the cats – furry soft-toys or peculiar mechanical moggies – that were never going to convince. But the cast take it in their stride, each character believable and interesting. There are only very, very rare instances of truly bad acting – and the excellent final confrontation, with McCoy screaming out the pained, anguished cry of a century-weary Time Lord, isn’t one of them. Even Anthony Ainley brings a measured reverence to the Master in this atypical appearance. There is no hint of world-domination or crude, hammy megalomania here, it is purely a portrayal of the man, the Doctor’s enemy, who wants to survive.

Survival has both style and substance. It is thematically rich, but comes together, as a cogent, three-part serial, because it has eerie atmosphere, oddly believable. The decision to put the Cheetah People on horse-back; the care taken to make the planet look truly alien; the music – all things that mark Survival out as something worth watching, and something you wouldn’t worry about showing to your friends. And now we know Doctor Who is coming back, the final voice-over is all the more poignant.