Okay, this one will be tainted ever-so-slightly with a sense of nostalgia.

This was, to the best of my recollection, the first complete Doctor Who story I ever saw. I had caught a few isolated episodes here and there (I do think the very first image I ever saw of "Who" was those crazy green Swampies in "Power of Kroll") but this was the first story I saw from beginning to end. And now, with some hindsight in place and a much more discerning opinion, I can see that this story does have an obvious flaw or two in it. But, in my opinion, it still holds up quite well. 

The introductory scene with Romana (which made little or no sense to me when I first saw it but still seemed quite fun and interesting) is a nice start to the new season. We actually see just how skilled of a script editor Douglas Adams is in this moment. Within the span of four minutes he writes out Mary Tamn, brings in Lalla Ward and puts K-9 on hold for the story. And he does all this with some really witty dialogue. I love it when K-9 says "Aah" when he's not supposed to and the Doctor tells him to shut up! Just as funny as the "Oh look! Rocks!" gag! 

Romana the Second is still, as far as I'm concerned, one of the best companions the 'ole Doc ever travelled with. Sure, I've still got a much bigger crush on Peri (what can I say? She's the Doctor's "chestiest" companion and I'll always be "a boob man"). And both Ace and Rose were "fleshed out" beautifully in the scripts. But the chemistry between Baker and Ward is fantastic, right from the get-go (no surprise that they eventually "got hitched" - even if it was just for a bit!). I love that the entire first episode is spent mainly with them wandering around learning about the planet they're on and getting into some trouble. I believe there have been complaints that Nation should have thrown a lot more into that episode in terms of plotting. I love that he didn't. Cause it gave us some nice time to enjoy some characterisation and some very straight-forward story-telling. Considering how overcomplicated the series could get by this time in its run, it's nice to see it go "minimalist" now and again. 

All right, here's where I get in some trouble with a good chunk of you. "Genesis of the Daleks" is a great story and is a classic just by virtue of the fact that it tells the origins of the Doctor's greatest enemy. The "have I got the right?" and "out all evil some good must come" are some of the deepest philosophical moments the show has ever produced. But, you know what? Outside of this context, it really is only so great of a story. And though Destiny doesn't have some of the grandiose window-dressings that Genesis does, by no means is it the crushing disappointment fandomn sometimes makes it to be. At least, not in my book. 

First of all, it is the only story involving Davros that really dresses a good balance between the Dalek creator's presence in the plot and the Daleks themselves. Genesis, Resurrection and Revelation are really more about Davros than they are the Daleks (particularly Genesis - whereas Resurrection does come close to getting the balance right). And though the surprise appearance in Remembrance is utterly fantastic, it does mean that his real presence in this story is considerably small. Not so with Destiny. In this one, the amount of onscreen time between the Kaled megalomaniac and his master-race is almost equal down to the very minute. And this is one of the greater strong points of this tale. We can enjoy lots of really well-written banter between the Doctor and Davros and we can also enjoy lots of menacing moments with the Daleks. 

Okay, now I go out on an even further limb. I really like the actor who played Davros in this particular story - even if the mask looked awful on him! I do feel that in some of the portrayals, Wisher and Malloy got a tad too OTT for my liking. Sometimes it's not even the acting so much as the dialogue (sorry guys, but the whole "if I had virus that could kill everyone" speech in Genesis is more silly than anything else - I mean, can anyone legitimately get that excited over just thinking about a virus?!). Whereas I really do like how the megalomania is a bit more subtle here. And gets downplayed even further by Baker's mockery of it ("You've misquoted Napoleon!"). Davros, to me, is at his best here because he's not just screaming and ranting about Dalek supremacy like he is in so many of his other stories. Or being so blatantly conniving that a blind fish could tell he was up to something. In Destiny, he has a few more dimensions or "shades" to him. And can actually seem restrained in places. Of particularly noteworthiness is his order to the Daleks to obey the Doctor when they think his self-sacrifice is illogical and, therefore, not possible. Other "incarnations" of Davros would've gone totally OTT in that moment. But our man stays cool in the delivery. And it gives such a nice "edge" to Davros because he does. A very nice piece of acting, as far as I'm concerned. I almost wish David Gooderson had reprised the role one or two more times. Yet another opinion I'm sure I'm alone in! 

There are many more great little moments in this story that make it, overall, an above-average runaround. But I think the strongest testament this story has is that it "sold me" as a 14-year-old boy looking for a cult series to become obsessed with. Like all boys of that age - I was looking for someone to be my hero. And this story brought out the real sense of heroism I was looking for in a character. The Doctor, in Destiny of the Daleks, displays incredible wit and eccentricity whilst, at the same time, being brilliant and effective against evil when he needs to be. And the fact that a good chunk of the whole conflict is resolved by a well-placed throw of a hat just left me awe-struck! Seeing a gripping sci-fi tale end with just a neat piece of costume improvisation made me feel I had stumbled upon a really original T.V. show that I needed to learn more about. And that, I feel, speaks greater volumes about this story than anything else. 

This is the one that got me hooked. Glad I saw it.

It is probably impossible to review this story without also having to discuss the new era it heralds. So, let's get that out of the way first. 

John Nathan-Turner, easily one of the most controversial producers to ever preside over the series, begins his tenure boldly in this story. In fact, this is probably the biggest revisions the series has ever undergone during a producer changeover. It is, at least, a bit re-assuring to notice in the credits that Barry Letts was executive producing the season with him - which means, to me, that JNT probably had an excellent sounding board to work off of as he made the radical changes that he did. 

The most notable changes are, of course, the cosmetic ones (which is almost a bit of a pun since one of the changes the producer managed to pioneer was getting Tom Baker to finally wear make-up on camera!). We have a new a title sequence, new music and new logo. All very immediate assertions that show us we're about to witness a very different Who from what we've been watching before. Having, more or less, "grown up" with this era of Who - it's probably one of, if not, my favourite title sequences (but then, I thought the Sly McCoy title sequence was okay so what do I know?!). Some fans complain that it only conveys space travel and not time travel and that's part of what makes the previous "birth canal" title sequence better. Which is a comment that has always sort of amused me. The previous title sequence is just a nice special effect. That's it, really. It only became "time travelesque" because they needed something to sort of represent the time vortex during certain stories that depicted it. So they decided to save some money and use the title sequence graphics. By this same logic, the title sequence should also convey "Time Lord Mind Bending" since it was also used in The Brain of Morbius. And, of course, the title sequence that dominated the bulk of the Pertwee era should also convey "Dalek Mind Probe" since its graphics were used in Day of the Daleks! 

Anyway, I digress for the sake of getting on with the review of the story. The other more obvious changes we see are that production values appear to have either gone up or been used more effectively. Although the sets are still wobbly here and there, they look much better than anything we've seen before on the show. Costumes, makeup and special effects have all improved too. Overall, the design and feel of the episodes look like the money being put into them is either greater or being used much more smartly. Not sure exactly what happened, but it all certainly looks great. By Doctor Who standards, at least. 

Then finally, in the "blatant changes" department we also have the Doctor's latest costume. I think it best to say that I just plain like it. In fact, I love it. Baker looks great in the outfit and I almost wish he'd worn it for more than just the one season. And, as others have remarked, it greatly symbolises what also occurred with his performance of the role. Which is probably one of the more, but still not entirely, subtle changes this new story heralds. 

I really didn't have much problems with how crazy and goofy Tom was getting in the previous season. His wit, though a bit overabundant, was still always great fun to watch. And it's a testament to Tom's talent the way he would re-invent the scripts so much during the rehearsal process. Re-writing science fiction "on the spot" the way he did was no small feat. But, I do also think the series could not handle too much more of this. That if he wasn't reigned in the way he was, the show would have become a total spoof of itself. So, even though there's still bits of the "old Tom Baker" here and there - it's kept considerably toned down and made to be a bit more whimsical and clever. The most famous of these examples in this story being, of course, "arrest the scarf!". But other sequences, such as the multiple copies of the Doctor vanishing away in episode four and the real Doctor still not being too sure of himself as being the real Doctor, convey this sort of humour far more effectively and creatively. "Arrest the scarf" was a cheap gag - this sequence was just plain talented writing. 

Which is, of course, the other more subtle change in this era. The new script editor, Christopher Bidmead, not only gave us a story (and an overall season) that is much more "science fiction- based" rather than "science fantasy-based", he also gave us some of the most complicated, if not, incomprehensible of plots. From a standpoint of pure marketting, this was probably not the smartest of moves as I imagined it alienated a lot of casual viewers. But the artistic merit of this story (and, again, the overall season) is fantastic. I, for one, was delighted to see a story that could not be easilly understood from just one viewing. It gave the series a new-found sense of sophistication and perhaps, even, pretentiousness. But then, whoever said being pretentious was an entirely bad thing?

Okay, on to a review of the story, proper! The strongest impression this story leaves behind is the brilliant directing and, more specifically, the cinematography. All the gorgeous transitional shots (particularly the shots of the exterior environment being conveyed outside the windows of the Argolin Hive and then "fading through" to the scenes that were taking place on the other side of them) and tight angles (the discovery of the West Lodge Foamasi's rubber mask inside the closet being shot from inside the closet being a great example of this technique) make this story a visual delight to watch. Only the budget, which is still comparitively low by the North American standards I'm accustomed to when watching sci-fi T.V., act as a detriment to some of the director's effectiveness. It's a testament that Lovett Bickford was capable of doing so much with so little. 

The other great strongpoint of this story were the aliens. Both on paper and visually. The Argolins and Foamasi are very well-written cultures that seem like "real people" rather than just cardboard monsters. The Foamasi look as great as they possibly could with the budgetary constraints - and the Argolins look gorgeous. Especially when their whole look is really just a basic "wig, make-up and robe" effect. It was nice to see an Argolin again in the background during "Dragonfire" - they really are a beautiful-looking race that were visually conveyed by the simplest of means. 

The story itself, though a bit contrived, is excellently plotted. The scenes were constructed in a very different and unique way compared to how they were written previously in the show. Expository dialogue is kept to a bare minimum and characterisation is kept to a maximum. Which is further enhanced by the acting in this story. All the performers are comfortable with the idea of subtlety and restraint. Something difficult to maintain in sci-fi when the visuals tend to be so over-the-top. Even Pangol's meglamania in episode four is handled convincingly. His voice is loud and furious, but the need to overdo facial expressions as previous meglamaniacal characters in the series have done, is kept to a bare minimum. 

All of these elements come together to give us one of the smoothest, "slickest" and most sophisticated stories the show has ever produced. Can we call Leisure Hive a "classic"? Probably not. But it isn't really trying to be. It's just trying to tell a nice little story about a small colony on a distant planet whose denizens are trying to either save themselves from extinction or, at least, leave a mark on the universe. And the Doctor, nice little hero that he is, helps them along in the effort. And that's what makes this story so wonderful - even if K-9 is written out of it in a mildly unbelievable way!

Revenge Of The Cybermen is a story that fandom just can’t seem to make its mind up about. People slate it to the high heavens, but it has enough supporters to keep it from the depths of turkeydom wherein lurks The Twin Dilemma and suchlike. Coming after the programme’s definitive episode (not best, mind) it’s bound to come across as a bit of a comedown, but I wouldn’t say it was terrible. In fact, the only thing in it really worthy of sustained criticism is the portrayal of the Cybermen themselves.

For one thing, the special effects are generally very good and miles better than those of The Ark In Space; I know everything was fine with Ark in part four once it shifted to film-recorded models, but there was a load of rubbish to put up with before that. Here it’s 16mm all the way and it looks really good. However, the studio scenes are considerably less atmospheric, possibly because of the different director or possibly because the thought of a space station acting as a giant refrigeration unit for the lat survivors of humanity is a slightly more enigmatic than a space station warning ships about flying into a tiny moon that’s been around for half a century anyway. However, the scenes set in the main corridor are amazingly spooky with dead bodies lying scattered disregarded - although the stars outside are behaving rather oddly, swinging around and winking on and off.

I wouldn’t say any of the acting is particularly bad in this story, although Ronald Leigh-Hunt seems to be capable of nothing more than cloning the role he played in The Seeds Of Death. William Marlowe is likeable as Lester and Jeremy Wilkin is suitably (initially, anyway) smarmy and evil as the ostensible villain. However, as is a problem with a lot of stories, the writing of the opening scenes seems forced and a bit artificial and the exposition between Kellman and Warner is very simplistic.

There is some slapstick on display with the Doctor’s arm trapped in the door, but the scene is rescued for me by Tom Baker’s sullen glaring. After this we head down to the planet’s surface and meet the locals: Michael Wisher is wasted a bit in a minor role (then again he had just done a major role that would see him remembered forever so I’ll not be churlish), but Kevin Stoney and particularly David Collings perform wonderfully. Collings is especially good as Vorus when you think how different his other roles were, as the genial Poul in The Robots Of Death and of course the melancholy Mawdryn. However, while Kellman’s status as double agent turned triple agent is interesting and clever the twist is undermined by the Vogans mentioning their agent and the presence of gold in Kellman’s quarters, which could clue in an attentive viewer. On the subject of gold this story is of course the beginning of the end of the Cybermen’s credibility; even though they’d been given one weakness per story up to now none had been as utterly stupid as this – and which one did they stick with? Right. At least here a bit of thought has gone into how it works – it has to be gold dust ground into the chest unit, easier said than done – whereas by Silver Nemesis we were seeing truly appalling scenes with gold coins being pinged off their helmets with a catapult. We only get a few bits of silliness such as gold affecting radars, although since this isn’t a great leap from being underground affecting radars it’s not a big problem.

The Cybermat, however, is utterly pathetic and while I might be able to forgive the whole hold-it-to-your-neck-and-pretend-it’s-attacking-you routine once to see it done I think four times is asking a lot of the audience. This leads to a naffer-than-naff first cliffhanger. The lines on the face, a mark of the Cyberman virus, show how derivative of each other the Gerry Davis-written Cybermen stories were, but I suppose you can’t fault the continuity. However, the audience is expected to believe that nobody at all noticed the snakebite effects, or the scratched metal, or anything – now that I think about it Davis’s stories contain gaping plot holes actually quite often. Kellman communicating with the Cybermen through Morse Code is seriously stretching it and is the wrong kind of amusing, but the model work of the Cyberman ship is excellent and the score (featuring contributions from Peter Howell, one of the better composers of the 1980s) is wonderful.

Sarah’s infection is a good dramatic sequence simply through the intense performances of all the cast, foremost of course being Elisabeth Sladen. They beam down to Voga leading to some excellent location work at Wookey Hole caves (I visited them as a child, and was bloomin’ scared). The scenes with Harry and Sarah together show the rapport between Sladen and Ian Marter, and how underrated Harry was as a companion.

The Doctor states that Voga is “hated and feared” by the Cybermen, so scratch my earlier comment about faultless continuity. However, the scene where the Doctor threatens Kellman with a Cybermat is amazingly cool as are the (Robert Holmes-penned) politics of Voga, even if the latter does smack of padding.

Really now, the Cybermen are no worse than they were in the 1980s. Christopher Robbie is supposed to have some sort of accent but I can’t hear it, and while some of their dialogue does come across as somewhat emotional, there’s always the “he [the Doctor] must suffer for our past defeats” line from Earthshock. Robbie struts around hand-on-hips; David Banks shakes his fists and rants like a lunatic. It’s all the same really.

Sarah refusing to let Harry introduce her is a nicely subtle example of her feminism (the words “subtle” and “feminist” so rarely appear in a sentence together without a prefix of “un”), and is far superior characterisation to her “if you think I’m the sort of girl who makes the coffee…” jive when she first appeared in The Time Warrior.

The studio sets of Voga are pretty poor, and let down even further by a ridiculous photographed backdrop (it’s not even in focus for crying out loud), but when we get the genuine location filming there is more very good material and the silent Cyber-drones do look effective in them.

However, here’s where it starts to get really B-movie, with Sarah learning of plot developments by eavesdropping on the monsters. With this, and talk of climbing through cross-shafts to intercept bombs, it’s all getting a bit Dalek Invasion Of Earth. That story wasn’t bad, but such simplistic plot elements barely work once let alone twice.

The rock fall is a mixture of the good (location) and bad (studio). It makes an appropriate death for Kellman – how do you kill someone who has to die to justify the narrative but who kind of is and kind of isn’t a villain? Answer: natural causes, although here that means getting whacked by a piece of painted polystyrene. And since we see the Doctor take a couple in the gut himself, how come he gets off without a scratch? The cliffhanger is still quite fun though.

The attack on the Cybermen with gold is quite well directed and edited, and Lester’s death is poignant and noble: the story’s mortality rate of 70%, while high, is totally appropriate to the story. Back on Nerva however the silliness is increasing exponentially with a plan to crash the station into Voga. That said, it isn’t bad silliness and it’s a great laugh. While the stock footage of Saturn V launching is just plain lazy, it is a fun scene where the rocket is redirected away from the station (in the nick of time, no less). The destruction of the Cyberman ship is a good special effect even though the debris has a definite downward vibe to it; I’d have hung the model upside-down myself and shot it that way. “The biggest bang in history” could have come from Douglas Adams although he probably would have realised how it could be interpreted; however, stupid as it is, I could watch that rolling-drum effect of Voga on the scanner all day. Call me mad, but I love the effects in this story.

And with that, it’s over. Answering an emergency call from the Brigadier is a good way of keeping tension over the season break, but the “space-time telegraph” is whimsy worthy of Russell T. Davies. Still, it’s nice to see the TARDIS again for the first time since The Ark In Space.

Revenge Of The Cybermen is a deeply silly story that is still a long way from being a true dud, possibly because Robert Holmes’s witty script-editing prevents it from being too serious for its naff moments to be forgiven, like Warriors Of The Deep. Season 12 is a short season with two classic stories; even a hit rate like that doesn’t mean that basic fun like this is bad.

The Face Of Evil is the forgotten story of season 14: The Deadly Assassin, The Robots Of Death and The Talons Of Weng-Chiang are flagged up as the classics (no argument from me), while The Masque Of Mandragora and The Hand Of Fear are the usual candidates for the one story per season that fans are by law required not to like. In the middle of it all nestles this story, always overlooked. This is a shame, as it's really quite a natty little tale. It's also important as it introduces Leela as a companion: not the best idea really as a character starting out in a position of less knowledge than the audience is a hard one to transplant into a setting other than their own, as John Wiles learned with Katarina. Also, Louise Jameson's performance took some time to smooth out (probably not helped by the fact that Tom Baker hated her guts) and consequently she is destined always to be remembered as the companion who didn't wear many clothes.

It begins in a fairly ordinary way, with stagy actors going on about a backwards religion, but it's no worse than the average beginning of any story. It then becomes genuinely disturbing, as we get to hear an old man getting eaten alive by some vicious monster called a Horda. Blimey, what's this monster? It must be seriously impressive to be flagged up so in the script!

The forest, our next location, is a nice enough set and benefits by being well shot on film. It is slightly strange for a hardcore fan like me though to hear background effects that date all the way back to The Daleks in 1963, and the invisible monsters make the same noise as the Skarasen from Terror Of The Zygons. Baker shoots in on absolute top form with his knotted hanky and gigantic alarm clock in his pocket nice examples of his bonkers character, while not overdoing it like he would in future seasons. although his talking to himself and directly to the camera is a reminder back to the previous episode where there was no companion to give him a real reason to talk out loud. Him meeting Leela is another very good scene with more great dialogue, perhaps showing why Chris Boucher is so highly regarded as a Doctor Who writer even though he only penned three stories. However, as all three were script edited by Robert Holmes (there are definite Holmesian touches in the dialogue) I'm never quite sure who to give the credit to.

Leela seems much more intelligent within her own society, but is still extremely violent; this is a violent episode in general, with people getting shot with crossbows and poisoned with Janus thorns (much better used here than in The Talons Of Weng-Chiang) left, right and centre. Although hardly the most intense story of the season this is still full-blooded in a typically Philip Hinchcliffe way, with the same high level of production values. The invisible monsters aren't brilliant compared to how the effects were done in The Daleks' Master Plan, but streets ahead of Planet Of The Daleks. The footprints look terrible, with rectangular blocks in the floor being lowered down in slow motion, but the destruction of the clock looks brilliant.

After this the jungle moves to being shot on videotape, which always highlights fakery. This example is particularly shameless, using industrial piping as vines, but it gets by on the general weirdness such as the sky being jet black in daylight. It's hard to notice anyway as attention-grabbing plot points are dealt out slowly, where the Doctor meets more of the natives and discovers that all is not as it seems on this planet. Neeva's Welsh accent is jarring but since it's an alien planet there's no good reason why it should be any more out of place than the other characters' Queen's-English (these are without doubt the poshest savages since The Time Meddler). The scene where Neeva waves the "artefact" around the Doctor is well written but ridiculously played by David Garfield, who staves of laughter by doing a Rolf Harris impression.

After escaping the Doctor manages to threaten the natives with a jelly baby, in my favourite scene in the story. The Sevateem really are a backwards people: those haircuts are just so 1967. After this scene - a very Holmesy one - we come to the cliffhanger, and it's a knockout. One of the story's major strengths is that all three cliffhangers are excellent, this one being the moment the Doctor sees his own face carved in a mountainside. The only thing that jars is the constant switching between film and video, but it's only a minor quibble.

When watched all in one go, it is very noticeable that the titles of each episode form almost the only breaks in Dudley Simpson's omnipresent score: this one is average, neither great nor terrible, but it is very intrusive. The discovery of Neeva's sanctum is an interesting scene as we get to hear Baker talking to himself over a radio link, which is played to be so ordinary that it's hard to notice how imaginative it is. The dialogue between the Doctor and his alter-ego is excellent, foreshadowing the plot without actually giving anything away.

The time barrier effect is good, as have most of the other effects been so far, and I like the way it is presented to the audience; these days people see the need to justify every science-fictional concept with a pseudo-authentic explanation, but here all we know is that time is somehow moved forward a couple of seconds. It's science...fiction! We are shown the barrier just in time for the Sevateem to attack it, and for a tribe of warriors they are seriously laughable in battle. Their plan of action seems to mainly consist of shouting "ATTACK!" at the top of their voices while creeping very slowly towards the enemy and doing nothing else once they get there. One of them even does a Red Indian war cry, for crying out loud. The scene where the Doctor breaks Calib's leg (so he claims) I consider an insult to anyone who's ever broken a bone (i.e. me) as he is up and on his feet in seconds. I am never sure whether this is a joke - the Doctor's subsequent threat to break Calib's nose would suggest so - but it is presented as being serious enough (just not very painful).

The Doctor is captured, and I love the scene where he dismisses Neeva's claim that he can physically renew himself as ridiculous. We then get the Horda scene, a wonderfully written and designed scene let down by a badly-choreographed fight scene with Leela rolling around the floor like a toddler. And, of course we get to see the Horda. Actually we saw them right at the beginning, slithering along at the end of a piece of string, but this is where we are told that this deadly creature we've been hearing so much about is in fact a plastic stick with a fin at one end and some Blue Peter-made teeth at the other. Frankly, things crawling in my bath have been scarier than that (i.e. me again). However, it is nice to hear some effort made to make the stone blocks actually sound like stone as they part, as opposed to polystyrene. On the subject of sounds Xoanon's second voice sounds a lot like one of the robots from the subsequent story, which is odd as Brian Croucher didn't actually play a robot in it. Maybe I'm hearing things - it certainly sounded like Baker mispronounced Tomas's name "Thomas", which made me laugh.

The CSO used to put the Doctor and Leela by the face of the idol is poor, but it's an impressive scene nonetheless. The cliffhanger, as I said before, is great, as the Doctor's image is lit up in the air. I should have been expecting it really having already heard Tom Baker's voice coming from somewhere other than Tom Baker's mouth (no, you sicko, from the speaker), but it's still wonderful to see.

Episode three gets off to a slightly muddled start as Boucher sets himself the task of introducing a completely new place and people halfway through the story. It's easy to see how the story is structured with such a sudden change between episodes, which is unusual when watching a serial all in one go. Unfortunately the design of the spaceship is bland and the Tesh look completely ridiculous, little eight-stone weaklings dressed as playing cards from Alice In Wonderland. However, Xoanon looks good: a little screen-savery perhaps, but a good screen saver, and the three actors talking together produce a brilliant atmosphere. What is also good is that the Doctor discovers the plot at the same speed as the audience for once, making the very well-written expositionary dialogue seem natural and appropriate for once. Another nice touch is the fact that all the planet's troubles have happened because the Doctor screwed up.

The scene when Leela and the Doctor are about to get diced by the laser is very derivative and closer to the lightweight action adventure that characterises most of season 15. It does show some hints of religious imagery, which would be appropriate to the story and in keeping with the deliberately Biblical imagery of Neeva's litanies - but maybe it is I who am now talking out of somewhere other than my mouth. The other action scenes are similarly staid and uneasy - a shame, as it's generally a well directed episode - but then again there are mirrored sets which must be difficult when shooting multi-camera. The final scene has a lot of plot delivered, but it is told like a story and makes very compelling listening. This is followed by one of the best cliffhangers of the 70s, with a massive image of the Doctor's face screaming "WHO AM I?" in a child's voice. It's surreal, creepy, and at least as scary as the one in The Deadly Assassin that had Mary Whitehouse choking on her garibaldi.

The final episode continues this air of bizarreness, with the Tesh getting scared by mood lighting. It's fun to watch Xoanon trying to kill the Doctor, even though the electrocution effect is rubbish, and if I'm in an unforgiving mood I'd say that Leela actually managed to shoot the Doctor. The Sevateem breaking in allows for some excellent characterisation of the Tesh, who are more concerned with not getting agitated than with actually stopping their enemies.

In the end though it reverts to a simply defuse-the-bomb scenario, which I would have thought was below this story, although the resolution is still more imaginative than usual. The end scene with Xoanon seems very forced and largely unnecessary as it's only repeating what we already know, but the old gramophone player is a nice touch. We must be thankful the episode is not written by Russell T. Davies, or the Doctor and Leela would probably start grooving to 'Dancing Queen' (see The End Of The World). The final coda is over quickly, a "get the companion into the TARDIS before the studio lights get turned off" moment, but it's well written and better than some companions got, for example Dodo. All in all then, despite a few dodgy moments of production in the second half, this is a very solid story with very little to dent it.

When I was young, I’d rave about anything. Would you believe at one point I loved The Twin Dilemma, and thought Battlefield was a good story to show to a newbie? These days, as a jaded 20 year old (I’ll be 21 in six weeks at the time of writing so I’m milking it for all it’s worth) it takes quite a lot to blow my mind, and while many have been good only two Doctor Who stories have ever managed it. One was Ghost Light; the other was Image Of The Fendahl.

What’s noticeable about this episode is how it focuses on the guest characters, with a relatively small role (initially anyway) for the Doctor and Leela. This allows for some excellently drawn roles, without going too far in this direction as the otherwise-good Revelation Of The Daleks did. It’s handy then that the guest roles are generally well acted, with the exception of the slightly stagy Edward Arthur as Adam Colby. Dennis Lill as Dr. Fendelman, taking the “mad scientist” baton and playing his little heart out while just managing to avoid playing for laughs (although take that remark with a pinch of salt when it comes to his death scene). None of this could work though were it not for the wonderful script from Chris Boucher; lines such as Adam’s plea to Max to “end the day with a smile” are the kind of nuances that take a good story into the realms of greatness. 

Oh man, I hate writing reviews where all I do is lavish praise. Still, I suppose getting to watch such an excellent episode counters this.

The visuals are appropriate to the story and are generally solid – it’s interesting to note that the other excellent stories of Graham Williams’s time as producer (Horror Of Fang Rock and City Of Death) also feature above average design. Makes you think, that. However, it must be said that this serial does the televisual equivalent of grabbing you by the lapels and screaming “GOTHIC!” at you until you pass out. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. The scene with the hiker in the woods is very creepy and atmospheric, and the glowing skull effect is terrific. The only flaw is, like most programmes older than about five years, the computers look very dated.

George Spenton-Foster is a superb director on this story (his work on The Ribos Operation is more open to debate, although he was never terrible) and there are some wonderful touches such as overlaying the image of the skull over that of Thea. The hiker’s death is good, as the unseen monster’s powers of paralysis are scary enough on their own without any other details.

After some little time now we get to the first scene with the regulars. K9, even though he never speaks or leaves the TARDIS, seems incongruous in such a dark story, and Leela’s line of “don’t cry about it” illustrates her shift to being a slightly more easy going character (by her standards, anyway) over the course of the season.

After a brief scene in which the Doctor delivers a lot of technobabble (just focus on the “world will be destroyed” sections, they’re the important bits), we’re back to the scientists. The script seems to dry up whenever Max Stael opens his mouth – when Scott Fredericks hammily delivers lines like “it is never easy to die” he might as well have the words “bad guy” written on his forehead, and no amount of shifty behaviour from Fendelman can draw attention away from that. On the whole though this is still very good, even though it’s weird to see Wanda Ventham and Dennis Lill together on screen outside their vastly different roles in Only Fools And Horses. The post-mortem examination conducted by Stael on the hiker further emphasises that there’s some evil force around (the trouble with invisible monsters is that we need constant reminders that they’re there), and the atmosphere is helped at this stage by the lack of music. One point of contention though: who in their right minds names their dog Leaky? “’Scuse me, I thought you said she was housetrained-” “Gotta go!” VROOOOOOM…

The Doctor and Leela spend this episode enjoying a walk down some country lanes where they meet Ted Moss, naturalistically played by Edward Evans; the scene where Leela holds him at knifepoint is a high point of the story. At this stage I should say that even he cannot hold a candle to the superb Daphne Heard as Martha Tyler, hands down the best actor of the season.

The cliffhanger to the first episode is ambitious in its dual nature conceptually great, but it is let down by the fact that Tom Baker just standing there staring blankly doesn’t give the impression that the Doctor is in danger, especially since the darkness hides his face. Also, the scene of Leela being shot at is undermined in the next episode by one of the most annoying directorial devices possible in serials of any sort: a re-edited reprise showing that Leela was never in danger.

It is now that the Doctor makes a superb, commanding entrance to the manor house. He knows what’s going on from the moment he sees the embryo Fendahleen, and we see him delivering portentous hints as to what the danger is for the rest of the story. The plot is original, complex without being nonsense and very frightening; the Doctor’s warning about “four thousand million” people is a great line although simply saying “four billion” would have been more elegant. One of the most praiseworthy aspects of the plot is that Boucher uses the idea of the Fendahl’s continued influence, already a good idea in itself, to ease the plot delivery as it justifies all the amazingly well-informed guesses of Fendelman, which in a lesser story would be mere laziness.

Jack Tyler and Leela have some good dialogue together and Martha’s use of Tarot cards give another spooky dimension to an already captivating and mysterious plot. The cut from Leela praising the Doctor’s gentleness to him demolishing a box is a delightfully understated moment of comedy, the kind just appropriate for the story.

Episode three sees a change of pace now that the Doctor involves himself with the plot. It is quite tightly packed with plot explanations, a drawback of having such a slow paced, character driven first half. Anyway, it’s nothing that can’t be said of 90% of other stories’ third episodes. Also, it’s commendable that Boucher was able to use the Doctor like this so successfully, maintaining the mysterious atmosphere as long as possible by preventing him from entering and spoiling the plot too soon.

The scene where the Doctor uses fruit cake to restore Martha to her senses is quite simply marvellous, blending humour with a genuinely clever idea. Jack asks the Doctor how he knows so much, and his response of “I read a lot” is inspired and a quotation I use whenever the opportunity arises (or at least I would use it if I gave the impression of knowing stuff). That’s not her best china? Blimey, it’s better than mine.

There is noticeable music for the first time now, and it’s quiet and unobtrusive – a rarity for Dudley Simpson. The TARDIS scene feels like it has been crowbarred into the narrative to provide further exposition, but in a plot this good it hardly matters.

All a bit of a rush now really, as Thea is prepared for transformation in the cellar. This is a dazzling scene, both visually and musically, although it is let down slightly by being split across an episode break. Dennis Lill’s death scene is truly spectacular, reminding me a bit of Professor Zaroff’s infamous cry of “Nozzing in ze vurld can shtop me now!” in The Underwater Menace, although with a less hackneyed script.

The adult Fendahleen looks brilliant and is probably the best monster of the season, although the puppet embryos are less successful with their stiff movements of the bend down-straighten up-wiggle tail-repeat variety. Also, I have a feeling that Jack’s cry of “my legs! I can’t move my legs” is a throwback to The Daleks, where Ian says an almost identical line after being paralysed. The Doctor’s explanation of psychotelekinesis is the kind of technobabble that would have Russell T. Davies spitting blood and William Hartnell strangling himself with his own vocal cords but in the context of the scene it works, largely because of the tongue-in-cheek writing and delivery.

The Fendahl Core looks good apart from the painted eyes, and her faint smile is very creepy. It is a shame – although necessary, and it helps to retain the enigmatic ambience – that we never get to see the completed Fendahl gestalt. Stael’s death is unbearably dramatic, and it effectively illustrates the gravity of the situation to see the Doctor assisting in a man’s suicide. There is a magnificent shot of the Doctor and Leela running through an apparition of the Core, but the standard explosion ending is a bit of a disappointment after such a good story. Still, it’s nothing sufficient to damage the overall quality of the episode.

This is an often overlooked story, rarely appearing in top ten lists. In fact, I’m not sure if I’m honest that it even makes mine – but the fact remains that it is a superb, flawlessly constructed story that is by some margin the finest story of season 15, and one of the best of Graham Williams’s productions.

One of the greatly underrated stories that populate Doctor Who's archives. Why? It's a matter of defying expectations. Of course, now people lap it all up, with Russel T. Davies being congratulated galore for setting up an action-packed adventure about an exploding nuclear power plant, and delivering a soppy moralising sermon against the death sentence. Back, then, however, this behaviour was clearly frowned upon.

This is the second-last part of the mirthful Season 16, remembered for rampant whimsy and a general "Boy's Own" mentality. Furthermore, it is scripted by Robert Holmes, who was famous for his layered, bizarre plots and his sparkling sense of humour. Holmes, however, goes completely against expectations, and delivers a simple plot, filled with gritty violence. Oh, and a big squid.

Kroll, the squid in question, is the most criticised aspect of the entire episode. Holmes famously was asked by script editor Anthony Read to include 'the largest monster ever to appear in Doctor Who', and was relucant to integrate it into his plot. It was definitely a foolish decision, to create such a massive enemy on their often painfully small budget. That said, Kroll's legendary awfulness is much exaggerated. Especially compared to the Skarasen from "Terror of the Zygons"

And, this is all nullified by the skilled dramatic tension Holmes uses in the introduction of Kroll into the story, who is handled by typical horror style, as he is surveyed by the terrified personnel of the rickety refinery.

The plot is very simple. The imperialistic Thawn (the excellent Neil McCarhty) who manages the methane refinery is looking for any excuse to massacre the indigenous Swampies on the moon of Delta Magna. He finds his excuse in the form of a visit by gun-runner Rohm-Dutt to the swampie camp, and aside from attacks by Kroll the plot really doesn't advance much further than that.

What I find appealing about this episode are the gritty portrayals of all the characters. Neil McCarthy's maniacal Thawn is nothing short of brilliant. Phillip Madoc gets less material as second-in-command Fenner, but shows the same flair he had in "The Brain of Morbius". And, finally, John Leeson get to be on camera this episode, and plays Dugeen, the one sympathetic character in the story, and does a very good job. Glyn Owen, likewise, is great as the gruff Rohm-Dutt, even though his character is underused. The rest of the cast all do good work as well.

The episode ends on an exciting note, with a genuinely unexpected Key to Time revelation, and some of Tom Baker's best eccentric behaviour. Interestingly, the episode ends on a different note. No moralising, no judgement of any of the parties. The Doctor just gets the hell out of there! In a way, it shows that imperialism cannot always be fixed.

An episode like this, in my opinion, could only be considered sub-par in a tenure as consistent as Tom Baker's. Nowhere near Holmes' best work, it is true, but mostly because here he writes in another style altogether.