Season 3 is a bit of a shambles really, but then going as it did through three producers that’s only to be expected. Consequently much of the stories are sub-par, although it does contain its share of greats. The Ark, however, is one of the only complete stories that survive this fragmented period. People criticise this and justly, although calling it too much like Star Trek is a bit unfair seeing as it predates that show (although an anagram of its name is “ah, Trek”), but when you consider what it lost it does give rise to the whole What Were They Thinking question. That said, it’s by no means a lazy episode and gets full marks for effort.

The Ark has a big advantage of having Barry Newbery as a designer and he delivers some outstanding sets and special effects, creating an extremely impressive looking episode. The jungle set is outstanding, looking absolutely perfect (even though black and white does mask imperfections), and the inclusion of a live elephant is the icing on the cake. The story’s major icebergs though are the Monoids, probably the worst monsters of the decade; they could be reasonable (not great, but perhaps not so heavily criticised) were it not for comparatively minor details such as their hippy-wigs and the fact that the actors’ legs are held together so that they walk like they all have haemorrhoids. I noticed that there were no Monoids aboard Platform One, as The End Of The World takes place at exactly the same time as this; the production team of the new series have decided wisely which elements are best left in their own eras. 

The story still has an ace card, though, and that’s Tristram Cary’s superb score, which shows how good electronic music could be back in the 1960s. I know the score dates back to The Daleks, and was far more appropriate to the tone of that story, but even so I lap up every opportunity I can get to hear it.

The elephant, toucan, lizard…they’re all great; it’s only the Dodo that annoys. I’ll not mince words: Jackie Lane is absolutely pathetic, and she drags the episode to floor level from the moment she steps out of the TARDIS with her stage-sneezes and her cold symptoms that get switched off when they’re not needed by the story. In fact she’s so bad that even Peter Purves, normally very good, seems uncomfortable – when she trills “Earth? Earth?” at him in that annoying voice I just want to strangle her. She did improve slightly in her short period as a companion, but here she is abominable. Hartnell soon arrives though and he well and truly sorts them out, as good an actor in his third season as he ever was, despite his increasing sickness. The “indoor nature park” is so obvious and takes so long to set up that it really dates the story to a time when the audience was patronised by some writers (they still get patronised now if I’m honest, but not in the same way).

Is it me, or does that crewman who gets miniaturised seem like the Arnold Rimmer type? The special effect of his punishment is good if a little silly, and there are some more fantastic (and huge) sets on display. 

The writing in this episode is good, and the dialogue is never boring to listen to. Characterisation is a major problem though with people being portrayed in very obvious terms: so it is that Zentos and Controller play an exaggerated version of Good Cop Bad Cop when the regulars are brought to them. While as I said it’s worth watching to an extent, this story never rises above the level of Moral Lesson For The Kiddies territory. Dodo spells out the concept of Noah’s Ark when it would be better to let it speak for itself - however, while morals and supposed subtexts are a hallmark of John Wiles’s time as a producer, subtlety is not as far as it is possible to tell from his suddenly-curtailed tenure. This story, of the four he helmed the one where he had the most influence, seems typical of his attitude: while it attempts to be meaningful it displays its philosophies at surface level so that what was intended to be deep comes out extremely shallow. It is a shame, as the first episode is generally quite good concerning itself as it does with introductions.

The fever strikes very suddenly; it could have done with more of a set up. The scene where the Controller is struck down is also the first lapse in Jackie Lane’s accent; in a better character that might mean something to me. Zentos transforms into a word-twisting fool; it is a clichй, but he is appropriately dislikeable.

It is episode two where the flawed execution of this story starts to let it down. The excuse that data on the common cold was lost centuries previously is ironic in the light of the missing episodes problem; it’s a shame that there weren’t any missing episodes at this point as otherwise this would be the closest this comes to a subtext. 

Eric Elliot as the Commander is a real ham, sending his dying-man characterisation into orbit, and Steven’s moralising to Zentos (not the last time we’ll have morals given to us on a plate) annoys; the Controller is even used to provide a commentary about it. However, although I’m not sure it was intentional, the fact that Zentos only really starts to care when a human dies undermines the idea of racial utopia very effectively, foreshadowing future events.

Despite some good moments (such as the cliffhanger) Michael Imison’s direction is also lacking, and his penchant for setting up some kind of explanation (“now listen carefully…”) and then cutting does seem very corny and B-movie like, although the worst moment is not now but in the second half when the Monoids go into a huddle.

The destruction of Earth looks wonderful though, as this story boasts some brilliant special effects. It’s the cliffhanger that steals the show though, slow and sombre, making Cary’s music actually fit for once. The double-plot idea stretches credulity, as it is hard to believe that the TARDIS would spontaneously rematerialise at the exact end of the journey (although it’s no worse than the randomiser taking it to Skaro thirteen years later). While it doesn’t quite work its concept is very good and original though, making it even more of a shame that this story isn’t a success; it really could be.

The scanner effect is good, and I’ll contradict myself and say that there is some good direction that gradually reveals the reversal of fortunes between humans and Monoids. Their voices are slightly daft but nowhere near as bad as they are sometimes made out to be; the Monoids certainly sound better than they look.

The third episode of a story is notorious for being dull, but I’ve never had any real problems with them myself. That said, there is a gigantic exposition scene here that gets by only through assured dialogue. The pill being dropped into the water is another superb effect, although why it suddenly transforms into a bowl of peeled new potatoes is beyond me. The spacecraft effects are similarly good, this being an example of how the black and white years can surprise. I’m perfectly prepared to overlook the visible wires and the fact that the statue falls downwards at the end. Refusis II is a well-realised alien planet, not looking too much like a set. A Monoid trips over coming down some steps, but Cary’s score stretches out into its full majesty. The Refusians sound good and their invisibility is well done, although the explanation of a solar flare being responsible for their condition is stupid and lazy – and lazy is a criticism I’ve tried to avoid for this story. The cliffhanger is a bit strange, with Hartnell not making the prospect of being marooned seem very dramatic.

By episode four I’m getting tired of all this, and I’m even going to criticise the visuals by pointing out the painted backdrop in the Ark that can be seen waving about. The search for the bomb could be dramatic if its location hadn’t already been revealed to the audience, and similarly the Monoids wondering who is flying the shuttle is dwelled on pointlessly. There is lots of eavesdropping in this episode, which drives the plot. With every criticism, I lament the promising idea and introduction yet further.

The insurrection among the Monoids is well written but with such poor monsters it’s hard to care about them really. Their battle scenes are pathetic, as they hobble around with their fastened legs shining lights at each other; they’re so pathetic that I feel sorry for them when they die. Maharis is equally irritating, reminding me of Weyland Smithers. 

And so on, so forth – the bomb is found and explodes harmlessly (another decent effect), and the moral is finally and unsurprisingly hammered home. All that follows is a poorly-done lead-in to The Celestial Toymaker, with Dodo and Steven (in absurd costumes) taking ages to notice the Doctor is fading away. In fact, even the Doctor takes his time to realise it.

I feel bad for criticising this story; if it had a facial expression it would be looking at me with puppy-dog eyes, willing me to like it. Sadly, that’s just not going to happen as it is so unsophisticaley made when it should have been so much better. That said, it will always be remembered as a story that tries its very best. There are worse things to be remembered as.

Most of the Hartnell Doctor Who stories that I consider to be overlooked by fandom are either wholly or partial missing from the archives; the exception to this rule is 'The Ark'. Even with its recent video release, it is seldom talked about either fondly or with contempt, although exactly why this should be is not entirely clear. My best guess is that, quite simply, 'The Ark' is an oddity. 

The direction and design of 'The Ark' is exemplary. There are numerous shots that impress, including the take-off of the landers from the Ark, and most notably, the scenes of the invisible Refusian moving objects around, which are incredibly well done. The interior of the Ark is also very impressive, meshing futuristic sets and model work with ease. The giant statue is the best example of this, as the camera switches from shots of its feet to panning shots up the model. The jungle too is excellent, and made all the more convincing by the presence of real animals, especially the elephant. The castle on Refusis II is another effective use of model work, again meshing well with the countryside sets of the planet's surface. The only visual aspects of the production that has aged badly are the space shots, with wobbly landers on strings, an unconvincing nuclear explosion, and a truly dreadful shot of the Earth burning up. The Monoid costumes are another triumph, with the creatures numbering amongst the most convincing aliens of the era. This is largely due to their single eyes, which are achieved by the actors holding them in their mouths and moving them with their tongues. Compare this with the later appearance of Scaroth in 'City of Death', which is far less convincingly achieved. This, and their mop-top hair, makes their appearance much more memorable than generic reptilian alien. Sadly, the human Guardians fare less well, boasting the most absurd costumes of any humanoid characters in the series up until this point, including the Thals; they look very much like a kitsch sixties vision of the future, which I suppose they are, and have aged very, very badly. 

The plot of 'The Ark' is its greatest strength, due to the novelty structure it adopts, effectively being two two-part stories back to back. The first two episodes are basically the build-up, but form a tight drama in their own right; the concept of the Ark carrying the last survivors of humanity to an new world is a good one, and initially appears to be a typical science fiction portrayal of an advanced utopian future society. However, the cracks in the veneer are soon exposed, as Dodo's cold infects the Ark's inhabitants and threatens their future; paranoia and suspicion become rife, and the seemingly peaceful Guardians are soon out not for justice, but for retribution (they want the travelers banished from the Ark, but won't allow them to leave in the TARDIS; instead, they refuse to accept that Dodo brought her cold to the ship by accident and demand that they be ejected into space, and thus executed, as punishment for their crimes). But there are other, subtler, hints that this human society is less advanced than it seems. When Dodo's cold causes an outbreak, they suspect that the travelers are agents from Refusis, their chosen destination, trying to prevent their colonization of that planet; this immediately suggests that the Guardians are determined to colonize the planet whether the native inhabitants like it or not. More importantly, they claim that the Monoids are their friends, and seem to genuinely believe this, but the Monoids clearly form a second class of citizen, occupying the menial tasks on board the Ark. Most tellingly, when the occupants of the Ark become sick, Zentos notes that the Monoids are starting to die, and then adds that it will be really serious if a Guardian also dies, immediately demonstrating the relative importance ascribed to the two different populations by the Guardians. The pay-off for all this comes in episodes three and four, when the Monoids have taken over and the Guardians are reduced to the role of slaves, the Doctor noting at the end that their rebellion is hardly surprising and that both races must learn to live together on an equal footing. Incidentally, the cliffhanger ending to 'The Plague' is another example of a cliffhanger that, whilst still impressive, must have had far more impact on its first broadcast, as the TARDIS returns to the Ark and the travelers discover that the huge statue has been completed and has the head of a Monoid. Even with foreknowledge, it is still a classic moment. 

William Hartnell and Peter Purves once more deliver on the acting front, with the Doctor seeming more of a wise bystander than on previous occasions. He seems less cantankerous than usual, and is determined to help the inhabitants of the Ark. His frustration at not being allowed to try and cure the cold unleashed by Dodo is palpable, as is his delight when he succeeds in doing so. His forgiving and understanding attitude towards Zentos' earlier rabid desire for vengeance is admirable, and he is gracious when he accepts the deputy commander's apology. In the second half of the story, he continues his active role in resolving the situation, speaking on behalf of the Ark's passengers to the rather likeable Refusian, and generally mediating between various parties; it is the Doctor who at the end tells the humans that they must make peace with the Monoids, a sentiment with which the Refusian agrees on as a condition to both races staying on Refusis II. Throughout the series thus far, we have often seen the Doctor deal smugly with villains, only to be suddenly brought up short when they gain the upper hand (the Daleks are the most obvious example, but others range from Lobos, to the Animus, to Nero); it makes a refreshing, and indeed amusing, change, to see the Doctor's obvious contempt towards Monoid 1, whom he speaks to with condescension and sarcasm. There is no particular lesson to be learned from this, but it is highly entertaining. Steven is on fine form as usual, seething with righteous anger during the trial in 'The Plague' and denouncing the supposedly advanced Guardians as no better than their primitive ancestors. During 'The Return' and 'The Bomb', he plays a crucial role in the enslaved Guardians' rebellion, hinting for the first time at hitherto unseen leadership skills, a character development that rises quite logically out of his frustration at being unable to help those around him during 'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve'. And then there's Dodo.

As a new companion, Dodo fills the young-female-sidekick-for-the-Doctor-to-explain-things-to role, previously occupied by Susan and Vicki (and, briefly, Katarina, although Sara Kingdom rather broke the mold). Since it is her cold that almost wipes out the human race, she is immediately given an active role, which is good way to introduce a new companion, and she immediately comes across as likeable enough, in large part due to the compassion and guilt brought out by the tragedy she unwittingly caused. Sadly, this doesn't last, and in the last two episodes she does very little, not even reacting very much to the revelation that her cold contributed to the success of the Monoid revolution. Nevertheless, I'm not sure why she is quite so reviled by fandom as she is, although her sporadic cockney accent doesn't do her any favours. 

Unfortunately, because of the structure of the plot, there is little for characterisation of the supporting characters in 'The Ark'; the Guardians are two-dimensional, but the Monoids are even worse. Monoid 1 gets the most lines, but he's portrayed as a stock megalomaniac, to such an extent that he actual gloats almost constantly. In fact, the best-characterised supporting character is the Refusian, and even he gets little to do, although he comes across as considerate, thoughtful and intelligent. Nevertheless, 'The Ark' manages to remain interesting throughout, and its unusual structure and excellent production standards compensate for its shortcomings. It isn't a classic, but it is a solid story and undeserving of its relative obscurity.

Doctor Who isn't the perfect TV program. Every so often there is a story you won't like. Time and the Rani has vaguely decent acting and special effects, but an awful plot and dialogue. The Monster of Peladon manages to be the dullest piece of television ever, despite the fact half the cast are wearing badger afros and Alpha Centauri appears.

But The War Machines is the story that pissed me off. Here was a story I was not only embarassed about, but a story I despised. I wanted my money back when I got the video (coupled with the fact I was, genuinely ripped off - the special feature weren't on the tape). I watched it once, seethed, watched the repeat on television and my hate grew. Believe me, all those who enjoy and revere this story, I'm as surprised as you are. It's well made and directed, and is complete. The actors are good, the special effects reasonable, the cliffhangers exciting. I should like it. I should at least tolerate it.

In the first episode, we are treated to the first Doctor and Dodo. My problem lies with Dodo. Man, I know why she didn't last four episodes, and was brainwashed for most of the two she was in - she's awful. "Imagine," she gasps, "Scotland Yard whisked off into time and space!" Must I? You being whisked off in time and space was bad enough.

A policeman goes to check a police box. That wasn't there yesterday. But is out of order. With an old man and a young girl in front of it whispering. And the old man putting the sign marked OUT OF ORDER on the front. Yet does nothing.

The Doctor is a very well-travelled alien time traveler. Yet, he is stunned by the appearance of the Post Office Tower - and is convinced its alien design broods trouble. Unsurprisingly, he quickly changes his story when talking to the innocents working in it. Instead of being troubled by the architecture, he hastily changes his story and explains there is a "powerful magnetic field" around it which he can feel. Yet, a trained scientist does not question this or even comment.

Now, onto WOTAN. Why not call it "Woe-tann" but "Vow-tarn" - I mean, the Professor isn't foriegn, is he? He doesn't have an accent and "Brett" isn't the most exotic of names. And after designing this fabulous machine, Brett has no idea what it can do or what it knows - hasn't he even bothered to check? [I now know, however, that this pronounciation is from Wagner's ring cycle, but it doesn't excuse the fact this is never referred to in the story itself. With Dodo around, anything can be explained realistically to the audience]

"You've made a machine that can think of itself?" the Doctor boggles. "AND NEVER MAKES MISTAKES?" Um, Doc, that police box you fly around in also thinks for itself, remember? And those spaceships you muck about on in the future - do you think they might be descended from this marvellous machine? These devices that save lives every day and allow humanity to progress SCARE you? The first thing you ask this know-it-all is a square root question. It isn't a calculator, Doctor! Why not ask it one of those "fox-the-computer-logic-tricks"? Or the square root of minus three? Come on, you luddite, do something! Is he just worried that this sort of technology shouldn't be available yet? Because his reaction is more "Burn the heretic!" rather than "You've invented the internet 30 years early".

Dodo asks the computer what "Tardis" means. And it knows. Is the fugitive time traveller on the run at ALL worried about this? Nope. It also knows about a human called "Doctor Who". Now, I could cope with this if it was talking about Peter Cushing and the humans got confused, but, come on... A human? HUMAN? The "who" bit I can cope with, but "human"??? This computer knows everything but thinks humans have two hearts?? OK, he didn't (maybe) have two hearts then, but he's not a human being at any time!

WOTAN just bugs me. Why does it want to conquer the world? Um... it thinks it can do a better job than humanity. And how does it demonstrate this? By making weapons of mass destruction that slaughter everything in sight. Is this ironic? No, it's stupid. In X days, it will be connected in computers all over the planet and have a world wide web of fear and chaos which it can conquer humanity. Instead, it wants to take over London with an army of fridges.

This plan, it should be pointed out, is so freaking obvious a bit part character - Kitson - works it all out by the end of part one and is not impressed. The plan is also predicted by an American journalist, and the idea is dismissed. "It would have no reason to conquer the world," Grover insists. And he's right. It doesn't. But it's doing it anyway, wouldn't you know?

How does it become sentient? No one knows or cares. It seems to take days to create a telepathic hold on Brett, who complains about sensing someone watching him, yet takes minutes to conquer Dodo. OK, bad example - her brain isn't exactly amazingly deep and powerful - but in one night it takes over half a dozen scientists via a phone line. Why? It only uses them as slave labor anyone can do - Polly replaces a few with ease - and their disappearance simply causes suspicion. "Work like the machines!" roars that nutter at one point. Seriously. "Do not stop, do not waste time!" Has this guy ever used a machine? Then he decides to gun down a worker for target practise. One of the special, brainwashed workers that they need so badly. Why not use that tramp? Oh, no, the wonderful computer logic has decided to club him to death with spanners and dump his body right outside their workshop (admittedly, a very creepy and scary scene - but illogical and ultimately pointless). That should keep the authorities guessing.

It can communicate telepathically with Brett, but no one else, and relies on a print-out machine. Quite sensible, as its voice box sounds like a strangled pig. Why not get Brett to attach something it can actually work with? It has to send Polly to the others in order to relay the complicated message "Stop killing passers by and dumping their bodies in the street". I mean, get real: a computer doesn't realize that using its slaves for target practise will require replacements until the last minute, and then doesn't even hypnotize them?

And why does it start this plan all over a few days instead of before the story starts? Does it need the Doctor? Why? The plan works fine without him and, in fact, hits snags becuase they want to capture the Doctor. Dodo, despite being controlled by a logical, computerized mind, cannot come up with a convincing cover story and her attempts to capture the Doctor ("Let's go down into this dark alley, Doctor!") aren't exactly subtle. How can Dodo act like Dodo "convincingly" but Brett cannot? Surely, the best thing to do would be to go to a press conference, smooth out all the wrinkles ASAP and then return with Kitson. No, instead he appears robotic, stares blankly into the distance, and acts suspiciously. Kitson, however, acts true to himself, showing a bit of sadism and, oddly enough, total stupidity. WOTAN presumably designed the War Machines and - if it actually was a genius - would fit it with an off-switch. Or, at the very least, have some idea what to do if it attacked him, so why doesn't Kitson try to reprogram the War Machine instead of just diving in front of its poison gas jets? The controls are on the OUTSIDE for heaven's sake!

The original title for this story was The Computers. Odd, because there's only one computer involved. This story is called The War Machines. We see two and only one plays any role in the story. It does not wage war, but runs downtown and attacks phone boxes. Thank god the military are using easily jammed weapons like machine guns and grenades that, like every one knows, can be frozen by a "magnetic field". Yes, should have thought of that. A bit of magnetism stops a thermo-nuclear reaction in a grenade, huh?

The Doctor walks in and out of situations in this story like he owns the place. Now, I can believe that. Seriously. The Doctor can bluff his way through a variety of situations and this is no exception. But we don't see him bluffing. One minute, he walks through a street, the next, he's been allowed to the top floor of the GPO tower, into the most important part of the structure with a computer. And they don't even know his name. Bit of an explanation would help. Some say he is in fact being respected because he is a mate of Ian Chesterton. Sigh. Ian Chesterton? The bit-part science teacher who eloped with a history teacher for two years before arriving back in mysterious circumstances with a tan? He had that much respect in the scientific community? Look, I had a science teacher called Hillyer who took two years off because he snapped his Achilles tendon. I don't think I could wander into someone's office, house and home with that kind of name drop. I don't think the Doctor could, either. Why DIDN'T they explain that bit at the time. Would have been so difficult?

Finally, when the Doctor de-programs Dodo and sends her to the country to recover. After the disaster, he waits outside the TARDIS for her. Why? Why not pick her up from the country house? The only reason he'd be waiting was if he got a message from her telling him to - so why does she apparently change her mind? And why does she tell Ben and Polly? My head hurts. Who Killed Kennedy comes up with a complicated explanation that Dodo was captured by the CIA and brainwashed. Fair enough. That's the explanation in 1996. What excuse did they have at the time, huh?

However, I cannot leave the review unfinished. Every story has a good side. So, I should do the positive elements in this story, for, yes, there are some. That crash-zoom at the start of the story as we see the TARDIS appear on a street corner. Very nice. Ben and Polly are magnificent in this story and it is a damn pity there isn't another complete one with them in. The Doctor being mistaken for a DJ - how cool is that? And it's great to see the First Doctor getting on so well with just about everyone. This guy really HAS been everywhere. No complaining about the noise, the fashions, the drinks... That noise WOTAN and the War Machine makes manages to keep on the side of freaky and not become irritating. Kitson's little speech about humanity, though rather corny and delivered at the wrong time, is very good - no matter what, a human life is more important than any machine. Sorry, K9. The bit where a baddie explains that Dodo has failed to capture the Doctor is surely cutting edge; in any other story, she would have been punished or killed for her failure. The blank roboticness of the brainwashed people are very creepy. And Polly... Jeez, I'm still impressed at her total lack of blinking. She does have big eyes, doesn't she? Another point in The War Machine's favor - a note of subtext. Just as WOTAN (for want of a better word) rebels against the humans, one of his war machines rebels against him. Nice irony, that.

The cliffhangers are pretty good, all in all. The Doctor standing up to the War Machine is very good - though, I wonder what the hell he was going to do if the bloody thing wasn't impressed by his Tiannamen Square tactic. And Ben getting caught in the spotlight's pretty freaky. Am I wrong, or does that W for Wotan appear in the end credits all the time? Nice corporate logo - no alien invader should be without one (and I'm looking at you, Daleks). The Doctor ducking out when no one notices is cool, too. And isn't this the first time in the show someone is hypnotized for GOOD reasons?

A lot of plot details don't make sense, but here is an explanation:

WOTAN isn't Y2K compliant. In fact, he's so badly designed that he went doodally 34 years early. This whole plan goes to pieces because WOTAN is utterly insane. Thus, all his followers are, as well. You know, the story makes a lot of sense all of a sudden.

That is why I think this story is worst. Any good potential is wasted in this. A plot that doesn't make sense on the first viewing, is full of ridiculous cliched dialogue and pointless action sequences and a pathetic Dalek substitute. People say this is a template for the Jon Pertwee era. I think they're being very rude.

Nevertheless, think I can forgive The War Machines. But its faults are numerous and it seems written for something that isn't Doctor Who.

If only Kitty had been in more of the story.

The War Machines' is memorable for several reasons, most notably the change in the lineup of the TARDIS crew, and the fact that it is the first Doctor Who story to take place entirely in a contemporary setting. Compared with for example 'The Savages' however, it perhaps has an undeservingly high reputation because of these and other factors; on the whole, I consider it to be deeply flawed. One of the most interesting features about 'The War Machines' is the Doctor's immediate acceptance by the establishment. Whereas he and his companions are often distrusted when they arrive out of the blue and have to earn respect, here the Doctor strides straight into Brett's office and is warmly welcomed, and later repeats the trick with Sir Charles, which has an enormous influence on the way the story unfolds (incidentally, for those who haven't read it, this is explained in the novelisation – the Doctor name-drops Ian Chesterton, now a respected scientist). Whilst this is a novel approach (and of course foreshadows the Pertwee era UNIT stories), it is in my opinion to the detriment of the overall story. From the beginning the Doctor has a safe place to work from and can call upon support as and when he needs it. Although numerous soldiers get killed off during the warehouse battle, this results in a distinct lack of tension, with the Doctor never seeming to be in any danger. Even when WOTAN attempts to make contact over the telephone, the Doctor resists his influence with only brief ill effects, and this is the only time that he seems even remotely threatened. This problem is exacerbated because the Doctor guesses the nature of the threat that he is facing almost immediately, recognizing the General Post Office tower as a source of some malign influence, and quickly deducing that WOTAN is that influence. Later, when the first two War Machines are activated, he deals with them, and WOTAN, so easily that it seems he barely has to give them any serious thought at all. It is an unusual approach, and a novel one, but it robs the story of drama. 

Then there is the nature of the threat itself. I must admit personal bias and note that I loathe super-computers as villains, in Doctor Who or anywhere else, since they almost invariably become sentient, decide that they are superior to humans, and set about taking over the world. Since this is the first such story in Doctor Who and since this is purely a matter of personal opinion, I won't criticize 'The War Machines' for that, but I will criticize the execution. WOTAN is a non-entity; it speaks on only a handful of occasions, and then in a slow flat monotone which makes me want to mutter "get on with it" through gritted teeth. In order to compensate for this shortcoming, his brainwashed slaves explain most of WOTAN's plans, a plot device that just about works due to uniformly decent acting throughout the production, but smacks of clumsy plot exposition at several points. The War Machines themselves look OK in still photographs, but are distinctly under whelming on screen. In order to convey how dangerous they are, they break tables and spray dry ice in large diffuse clouds. I find it difficult to take them at all seriously as they trundle around London; whereas the Daleks in 'The Dalek Invasion of Earth' glide elegantly and look menacing, the War Machines just look like bulky examples of sixties kitsch and not at all threatening. Are we seriously supposed to believe that WOTAN thinks it can take over London with twelve of these? They may be able to jam guns, but dig a few trenches around them and the old jokes about Daleks and stairs pale by comparison. Then again, there is no way War Machine number 9 could have got in the lift at the GPO tower, so perhaps they can fly…

This brings me to a massive inconsistency that strains suspension of disbelief to breaking point. WOTAN becomes openly sentient in episode one, and it is hinted that Brett is its first slave (certainly, since he's been working on it up until that point, I don't believe that it has already been plotting secret). Given this, we are supposed to believe that within twenty-four hours, WOTAN has recruited dozens of agents all over London (possible) who have time to hand in formal resignations (unlikely) and has constructed the complex electronic components required to construct the War Machines, which seem to arrive by aeroplane from all over the world pre-constructed in units, and shipped in packing crates with WOTAN's logo on them (almost certainly impossible, although if anyone has any fan theories to explain this, I'm always open to suggestions). This annoys me considerably every time I watch the story. 

My final problem with 'The War Machines' is Dodo's departure. Jackie Lane is by no means a bad actress, but she got a fairly bad deal as Dodo. Her first appearance is a contrivance bolted onto the end of the otherwise perfect 'The Massacre of St. Bartholomew's Eve' and she therefore misses out on a decent introduction. She then gets a sporadic cockney accent in 'The Ark' apparently due to interference from on high (Lane was ordered to drop it by silly BBC personnel who objected to a regional accent in the show), and then suffered from inconsistent characterisation during the next three stories. Ironically, the first two episodes of 'The War Machines' give her a prominent role, as she is hypnotized by WOTAN and ordered to recruit the Doctor, and Lane plays her role convincingly. After being released from hypnosis by the Doctor however, she is shipped off to the countryside, decides to stay in 1960s London off-screen, and sends the Doctor her farewells via Polly. As a companion departure it is truly diabolical, especially after Steven's fine leaving scene at the end of 'The Savages'. Oh, and incidentally, I'm not going to add criticism of the use of the name "Doctor Who" rather than simply "the Doctor" during 'The War Machines', because there is other evidence that he might occasionally use such an alias and besides "Doctor" clearly isn't his real name anyway. But doesn't it sound terrible when some says out loud "where is Doctor Who"?

Anyway, enough negativity; there are a few things about 'The War Machines' that I do enjoy. The "swinging sixties" setting is well realized an entertaining, and the sight of the Doctor in a nightclub is rather amusing (especially the "fab gear" scene). The location too work is exemplary. The acting throughout is uniformly good (with the exception of Crimpton's OTT death scene), with Hartnell putting one of his most dignified performances. The cliffhanger ending to episode three is of particular note, as the Doctor faces down the first War Machine. What really make 'The War Machines' worth watching however are Ben and Polly. Because most of their stories are missing or incomplete (and possibly because they are later overshadowed by Jamie), Ben and Polly, like Steven, tend to be underrated. They are a great pair of companions and Ben's down-to-Earth working class cockney nicely complements the slightly snooty Polly. The scene in which the brainwashed Polly allows Ben to escape from the warehouse and later tells Major Green that she did it because he is her friend indicates how quickly they form a bond, since Polly is the only one of WOTAN's servants seen to be even slightly capable of resisting the computer's influence, and only to save Ben. It is also a pleasant change to have a couple of comparable age in the TARDIS again; after Ian and Barbara left, Steven played more of a big brother role to Vicki, Katarina, and Dodo, but Ben and Polly are on a more equal footing (although unlike Ian and Barbara, I never get the feeling that they are destined to become an item once they eventually part company with the Doctor). Both are immediately thrust directly into the Doctor's world, as Polly is hypnotized and Ben is captured by WOTAN's servants, and both managed to cope admirably with their experiences, neither seeming at all traumatized when they meet the Doctor in Fitzroy Square to say goodbye. Their accidental stumbling into the TARDIS also echoes that of Ian and Barbara. 

Overall then, 'The War Machines' is neither a complete success nor a total failure. It lacks a decent villain (at least in my opinion) and is a poor final story for Dodo, but adequately serves to introduce Ben and Polly. It is however, the weakest season finale in Doctor Who to date. Season Three has a far less consistent feel to it than its predecessors, partly due to several companion changes, but also adopts a more experimental air, with stories such as 'The Ark', 'The Celestial Toymaker', and 'The War Machines' all attempting to do new things with the series' format. It also boasts the first appearance of another member of the Doctor's own people aside from Susan, and reveals that history can in fact be changed. But of course, the series' biggest change to date is lurking in the next season…

I'm not quite sure what to think of "The Sensorites". It's certainly the least impressive story from the first season, and it's quite slow going at times. Nevertheless, it's also quite enjoyable for the most part, and it's a reasonable attempt to create an alien race with a believable viewpoint of its own. I think that I see this story as similar to "The Keys of Marinus" in that while the story isn't always as engaging as it could be, there are some interesting situations within the main plot, and the fact that I am interested in the four main characters and how they react to those situations keeps me watching for all six episodes. 

The first episode starts out well, picking up right where "The Aztecs" left off. There's a nice scene where the four travelers discuss their adventures and talk about how Ian and Barbara have changed since the trip began. This is followed by a very nicely directed shot where the TARDIS doors open, showing us the bridge of the ship beyond, and the four walk out the door into the bridge with the camera following them. We as viewers so rarely get to follow the crew out of the doors that this moment stood out to me. Another nice shot is the over-the-shoulder view from behind Barbara of the rapidly approaching planet as the ship is plunged towards the Sense-Sphere. 

Maitland and Carol aren't the best acted or most consistent characters, but they do their job of explaining the plot in an adequate fashion. John is well-acted, though the actor looks at the camera a bit too often. We learn a little about the 28th century as well, and the mystery of the Sensorites is set up. A lot of atmosphere is created by suggestion and by keeping the aliens unseen. We're told what the Sensorites are capable of and see what they've done to the crew, including the deranged John. The pattern of separating the crew from the TARDIS continues when we see one of them remove the lock from the TARDIS (which shouldn't be possible given the indestructible nature of the ship, but at least it's a novel way to keep the crew out). The threat is well and truly established by the time we finally see one of the aliens and his ugly mug at the cliffhanger to episode one. 

Episode two introduces properly the idea that Susan has some telepathic ability, which is interesting and adds a bit to her character. The Sensorites motivation is revealed as the Doctor works out that molybdinum, a valuable mineral, is present on their planet, and that they are afraid of exploitation by humans. The theme of fear and how it affects people pervades parts one and two. Fear motivates the Sensorites, and renders the crew of the ship vulnerable to the Sensorites influence. The Doctor and his companions are effective because they are able to overcome their fear and act. Later in the story, fear and distrust of humans is the primary motivation for the City Administrator, though he wants power as well. 

We also get to see the Sensorites properly for the first time as Ian and Barbara encounter two of them in the corridors of the ship. Ian shows his mettle yet again. Clearly afraid of the two aliens, he keeps his nerve and slowly retreats. He shows restraint and is content with threatening gestures rather than an all out attack, though it's Barbara who questions the need to attack at all. The Doctor impresses with his insistence that they need to talk to the Sensorites, though he and Ian are willing to use force to defend themselves if necessary. In the end Susan proves yet again that she's not just a terrified screamer. She agrees to go down to the Sense Sphere in an attempt to protect the others. 

Episode three is where much of the hostility with the Sensorites is resolved, and where the story takes a 90 degree turn. With the drama of the first two episodes diffused by the establishment of friendly relations with the Sensorites, we are left with the question of who is poisoning the water supply and the ambitions of the city administrator to carry the plot. Episode three is the weakest of the story, but the remainder of the story picks up again. The machinations of the City Administrator keep things interesting. 

Apart from the City Administrator and his accomplice, the remaining Sensorites have to be the friendliest aliens ever. And the most talkative. And none too bright, when it comes down to it. It's obvious within about thirty seconds of discussion about water that the different water supplies are the source of the "disease" that afflicts the lower classes, and yet the Sensorites have not worked that out after years of plague. "It might be a clue" muses the Doctor. Uh, YES. Thank goodness the Doctor came along to figure things out! The Doctor quickly deduces the problem of atropine in the water and finds a solution. With Ian's life in the balance, there is a certain sense of urgency, but we're never really in any doubt that the Doctor will find the answer. And he really does seem to be enjoying himself in this story. He's quite pleased to find the poison in the water and be proven right in his theory, and he is equally pleased that he was right about the nightshade being the cause. 

In the end it comes down to three crazy humans in the aqueduct who are poisoning the population, and who think they are "at war" with the Sensorites. They're pretty amusing fellows, led by a commander who calls his subordinate "number one" and talks of "the troops" as if there are more than three of them. It's great fun! 

John is cured of his malady, and everyone is sent on their way. The final scene where the Doctor takes offence at a casual remark by Ian and loses his temper is pretty amusing. 

The recently released VHS has a very nice VidFIRE'd picture and good sound. Not as good as the DVDs of course, which became apparent to me in watching this story right after "The Aztecs". Still, it's miles ahead of the older VHS releases. 

The bottom line: as I said in the beginning, after two excellent opening episodes, the story really drags for an episode while the story changes gears, and then moves right along until the conclusion. I enjoyed it quite a bit more than I expected to. I think watching it over four days rather than all the way through in one sitting helps with the pace. "The Sensorites" falls into last place for Doctor Who's first season, not because it's bad, but because the other stories surpass it in quality. I'd give it 6.5 out of 10.

I wasn’t sure exactly how to begin reviewing this particular story. In my start to finish Doctor Who marathon I’ve finally reached the final tale in William Hartnell’s era of the show, and it’s strange to think that in four more episodes, he’ll be gone. A remark from Paul Clarke’s review stands out in my memory, that of “feeling a (slightly embarrassing) pang of regret” at the loss of the Doctor as Hartnell played him, and oddly enough I felt much the same sadness, minus the embarrassment. It’s strange that I’d feel slightly sad, considering that I can go back and watch the old episodes any time I like, but there you are. My intention not to skip around and to continue watching in a linear fashion means I won’t see Hartnell again apart from his brief scenes in “the Three Doctors”. I’ve come to really appreciate the Hartnell years more than before after watching them all in order, and it’s easy to enjoy an absolutely excellent leading man playing a wonderful character. He really did set the standard for those that followed.

I’ve seen “The Tenth Planet” before of course, several times. I remember being absolutely delighted to find a copy on the shelf among the Doctor Who videos a few years back. I had no idea it was coming out, and therefore it was a delightful surprise. Like so many stories from the black and white days that are now lost or incomplete, I have a certain fascination with these episodes, since they give us a glimpse into a time during our favourite show’s history that will always be somewhat beyond our reach, even with telesnaps and soundtracks. Nothing is quite a substitute for the actual episode, and so many of these stories still seem unfamiliar to me, even after I’ve heard them and watched the reconstruction. At least with “The Tenth Planet” 75% of the story exists, but frustratingly the crucial fourth episode does not. A few off-screen clips tantalize us, and thankfully those include the lead-in to the regeneration scene, with the fascinating sight of the TARDIS seemingly operating itself and the Doctor standing frozen over the controls before collapsing to the floor and changing. It’s unlike any regeneration since, and also unexplained in any satisfactory fashion, adding to the mystery of the Doctor.

The trend of “sidelining” Hartnell for the middle of a story continues here, with General Cutler dominating the first three episodes. I’ll return to him in a moment. There are plenty of good character moments from the Doctor in episode one as he scolds his companions for their flippant attitude as they are about to exit the TARDIS, and as he tells the very loud sergeant “Why don’t you speak up? I’m deaf!” He also rather oddly writes down a description of Mondas and tries to warn Cutler about it, and then after having shown himself to know far more about the situation than he should, expects to be allowed to leave. I don’t think he quite thought that plan through. The poor fellow seems out of his depth surrounded by the military personnel of Snowcap Base. He gets little to do in episode two other than debate the Cybermen. Episode three sees him collapse and be written out entirely as Hartnell was too ill that week to work. There is a last glimpse of the Doctor’s old confidence and ability to take charge in episode four, as he becomes the primary negotiator with the Cybermen after they kill Cutler. The Doctor stands up to them and works out their plan to destroy the Earth with the z-bomb, warning Ben not to trust them. Only when he is imprisoned on the Cyber ship does he once again seem tired, as though he summoned the last of his energy to confront the Cybermen, and having done so has nothing left. His hasty retreat to the TARDIS is a quiet moment as Ben and Polly wonder what’s happened to him before the final dramatic regeneration scene.

Like Steven before them, Ben and Polly have the job of carrying a large share of the plot, and they both do well with their story strands, though Ben clearly gets the lion’s share of the action. Polly is the subject of some humor in part one since she’s the only woman in the base, and being quite attractive she is the subject of attention from the men at first. Critics of this story often bemoan the fact that Polly is left making the coffee, but they forget that she offers to do so as a pretext for remaining in the tracking room to try and sway Doctor Barclay into sabotaging Cutler’s efforts to launch the Z-bomb. And she’s successful in her attempt. Polly also exhibits the very outspoken moral indignation that will later show up in “The Highlanders” and “The Faceless Ones”. She stands up to the Cybermen and demands that they justify the deaths of millions that the Cybermen will cause. That’s no small act of courage on her part, considering that the Cybermen have already killed one man and incapacitated Cutler for defying them. Sure she’s scared when trapped on the spacecraft in episode four, but who wouldn’t be? As a side note, she and Ben seem more like passengers of the Doctor’s than friends at this point, having had little time to develop the close relationship with him that Ian and Barbara or Steven had.

Ben gets to be both a soldier and a saboteur. Lest we forget that he is a military man, he snaps to attention when Cutler demands his name, telling him “Able Seaman Ben Jackson, sir. Royal Navy.” Later when the Cybermen have taken control of the base he unwisely attempts to take the fallen soldier’s weapon, getting himself locked up for his trouble. He’s resourceful enough to draw the guard Cyberman into the room and disorient him long enough to take his weapon, and though reluctant to kill him, he does so. He’s clearly shaken about the incident, and later shows no satisfaction in the killing, telling Cutler “I had no alternative.” It is his actions and capture of the weapon that allow the first wave of Cybermen to be killed, and the capture of three weapons allows the second wave to be destroyed. Ben also sabotages the rocket successfully, and together with Barclay holds off the Cybermen long enough for Mondas to absorb too much energy and destroy itself. In short, he is a huge factor in all the events that occur. It can be argued that Ben plays a larger role in the defeat of the Cybermen than the Doctor does, though the Doctor certainly plays a crucial part.

General Cutler is not what I’d call a villain, but he is certainly an antagonist for the Doctor, Ben and Polly. Characterized as a tough, no-nonsense general, he’s generally well acted by Robert Beatty. A few lines don’t come across as natural, but much of his performance is quite good. The things that convince me the most are the less bombastic lines, or actions that seem like natural behavior such as a reassuring hand on a subordinates shoulder when the countdown to launch is going on, or the wordless vocalization when Dyson tells him that Barclay’s probably gone to check the rocket. His accent is mercifully pretty good, because if it had been as poor as the ones in “The Gunfighters” or “Tomb of the Cybermen”, it would have killed the character’s credibility completely. Cutler is well motivated throughout the story, first by the need to bring the endangered astronauts down from orbit, and later by the need to take action against the threat posed by Mondas as well as to save his son’s life. Only when he becomes willing to chance the destruction of half the lives on Earth and when he is ready to shoot the Doctor and Barclay does his characterization become unconvincing. It’s as though the writers need to get rid of him quick to allow the Doctor to take center stage in the last episode, so he snaps in a rather unlikely manner and is gunned down by the Cybermen. It’s not really a fitting end for the general, who is a decent character, all things considered. 

The Cybermen make their first appearance here. Honestly, I ought to find them absurd. They look as if they are made of cobbled-together bits of prop and ski masks. But I’m almost always in a generous mood when it comes to Doctor Who’s effects and costumes, and so I find myself enjoying the fact that for the only time in their history, thanks to the costumes, the Cybermen actually appear partially organic. Their eyes and of course the outlines of their face can be seen behind the cloth mask, and human hands are still visible. The odd manner of speaking where the mouth opens, words come out and then the mouth closes is conceptually interesting even if it isn’t pulled off in an entirely successful manner. The characterization of the Cybermen works fairly well, though they are a very talkative bunch at first. It seems to me that if they were governed by logic they would talk less and act more. The threat they pose to all life on Earth is a suitably grand menace for the first Doctor to defeat in his final adventure.

The manner in which the regeneration is handled certainly adds to the mystery of the character. We’re three years into the program at this point, and still have very little idea about the lead character, something I’m not sure that today’s audiences would stand for. Without any warning or explanation, he becomes an entirely different man who neither looks nor acts like the Doctor. It was no doubt a risky move on the part of the production team to recast the lead and write that into the narrative, and then not even explain the change very well! It’s also a pretty successful visual effect for the time, with the brighter screen helping to wash out some detail as Hartnell’s face fades into Troughton’s. I understand that they spent a good bit of time trying to get the sequence to look right, and it pays off.

To sum it all up, the scale of the story allows the original Doctor to go out in grand style, saving the Earth from what would become recurring foes almost as implacable as the Daleks. There are some bad accents and some iffy characterization here and there, but this is a solid story with some big ideas. Well worth seeing.