After the thoroughly impressive ‘The Leisure Hive’, ‘Meglos’ is a considerable disappointment. In keeping with the glossy new look of Season Eighteen, it looks great, but it is let down by an unimaginative plot, some dubious acting, and poor characterisation.

‘Meglos’ contains many of the ingredients of classic Doctor Who, including a megalomaniac villain, an ancient and powerful super weapon, a subterranean city, and an alien jungle. One of its several problems is that, having selected these rather unoriginal ingredients, it fails to combine them in an appealing way, resulting in a collection of tedious clichés. For one thing, we have Meglos himself, a stock megalomaniac who wants to rule the universe, but who is given no background or motivation whatsoever. We learn almost nothing of his past or of Zolfa-Thura, his planet of origin which is now dead, except that his fellow Zolfa-Thurans destroyed their entire civilization in an attempt to stop him using the Dodecahedron’s destructive might to achieve his dreams of conquest. This might be such a problem if it were not for the fact that Meglos is a cactus. Who lives in a plant pot. This rather raises the question of how his people built a civilization in the first place, or indeed how he managed to build the screens and his laboratory (let alone the Dodecahedron). The obvious answer lies in Meglos’ ability to possess humanoids, and I would hypothesize that the Zolfa-Thurans at one time used to inhabit such humanoids who also lived on their planet, but this raises even more questions and I feel I shouldn’t have to waste time coming up with such spurious explanations. Leaving all of this aside, we are still left with the fact that Meglos is very poorly characterised. The fact that he has waited for thousands of years in his (presumably well irrigated) tub of compost before bothering to go and retrieve the Dodecahedron is rather strange, and a possible reason for this is given only the briefest of nods as he explains to the Gaztacs that the newly developed fluctuations in the Dodecahedron’s power output are part of its programming. Even if viewers are happy to accept that he’s been sitting around twiddling his spines for millennia, his lust for power is still crushingly clichéd; whereas Skagra’s motivation was explored in ‘Shada’ and whereas Pangol’s was understandable in ‘The Leisure Hive’, Meglos just seems to fancy a bit of a lark. Indeed, he even tells the Doctor that his reasons for wanting to blow up planets are “beyond your comprehension”; presumably, they are also beyond the comprehension of writers John Flanagan and Andrew McCulloch. Power-crazed megalomaniacs are relatively common in Doctor Who, but some justification for their behaviour is appreciated; even the Master has the fact that he wants to best the Doctor motivating him. Meglos doesn’t even seem particularly insane, the usual resort of a writer who can’t think of a more interesting reason for his villain being a nutter. 

As if Meglos’ poor characterisation were not bad enough, Tigella, one of the story’s main settings, is just as poorly thought out. Apparently, the idea of a society divided along religious and scientific lines appealed to Flanagan and McCulloch. Strange then that they don’t bother to do anything interesting with it. Potentially, Tigella could be very interesting, exploring the roles of science and religion in society to the small degree that might be possible in a four-part Doctor Who story broadcast at teatime on a Saturday, but instead it has the stereotypical assumption that science equals rationality and religion equals fanaticism thrust upon it and is left at that. Even these stereotypes, so basic as to be crass, might have been used in some interesting fashion, but they are just used to provide the supporting characters to bicker amongst themselves in a way that makes me wonder how the Deons and the Savants manage to co-exist at all. Like Meglos, the Tigellans themselves are poorly characterised, the only slight exception being Zastor who gets some nice dialogue but is acted with a distinct lack of enthusiasm by Edward Underdown who was unwell during filming. The only other Tigellan of any real note is Lexa, and she is only remembered as much as she is because Jacqueline Hill, returning to Doctor Who for the first time since Barbara Wright left the original TARDIS crew at the end of ‘The Chase’, plays her. Hill makes a reasonable effort in the role, but can’t rise above the fact that Lexa is just a clichéd zealot. Lexa’s sacrifice in Episode Four to save Romana seems to be some feeble attempt on the part of the writers to give the character some depth by allowing her to gain redemption for nearly sacrificing the Doctor, but it is a trivial effort if this is indeed the case. 

The poor characterisation of the Tigellans highlights even more the pitiful lack of background detail in the story. Whereas in ‘The Leisure Hive’, we were provided with a wealth of background information on both the Argolin and the Foamasi, here the lack of background about Meglos is compounded by the lack of background on Tigella. This only serves to highlight the fact that, as is often the case in Doctor Who, Tigella is supposedly an entire world but is clearly just a few rooms and some extras. As I have discussed in the past, some writers find ways around this problem, and others manage to get away with it through sheer style, but when the overall story is so bland, I’m more easily annoyed by things like Grugger stating that the Tigellans use the Dodecahedron to power their entire planet in Episode One, followed by references to one city with (seemingly) a single entrance throughout the rest of the story. And in order to sustain my interest throughout, I also like to ponder such questions as how, if the foliage of Tigella is so lethal that the Tigellans cannot survive on the surface with their level of technology, did they ever manage to survive for long enough to develop such an advanced society? And therein lies the problem with ‘Meglos’; it really doesn’t seem to have very well thought out. Which is probably why the Doctor and Romana’s means of escaping from the chronic hysteresis is so utterly unconvincing. 

Having got all that off my chest, I must admit that ‘Meglos’ does have its good points. It looks pretty good, save for some rubbery foliage on Tigella (primarily the Bell Plants), with nice model work and decent direction, which manages to squeeze some drama from the proceedings. A combination of Terrance Dudley’s rapidly switching camera angles and a dramatic score from Paddy Kingsland (at least for Episode One) makes the cliffhanger to Episode One almost exciting, as Meglos turns around looking like the Doctor, which I wouldn’t have been expecting if I didn’t already know the story. The Gaztacs also provide a welcome diversion; they’re generally as poorly characterised as the other characters, and their costumes are almost as silly as those of the Savants (dodgy blond wigs are apparently mandatory for scientists on Tigella), but Grugger and Brotodac’s dialogue provides some much needed comic relief. The two characters seem to be united by a genuine friendship, which is unusual amongst Doctor Who villains, and Brotodac’s obsession with the Doctor’s coat is rather entertaining. They are both buffoons, and whilst Bill Fraser doesn’t make much of an effort as Grugger, Frederick Treves seems to be enjoying himself as Brotodac, leading me to wonder if ‘Meglos’ would have fared better in Season Seventeen, script-edited by Douglas Adams and played for laughs. In all honesty, I can’t claim that ‘The Horns of Nimon’ is written that much better than ‘Meglos’ is, but ‘The Horns of Nimon’ is so much more fun that I can’t help but love it. ‘Meglos’, with little humour and wedged as it is between the sombre and much more clever stories ‘The Leisure Hive’ and ‘Full Circle’, just feels awkward. 

Of the regulars, K9 gets more to do than he did in ‘The Leisure Hive’, but the production teams’ intention of phasing him out again means that he suffers, as his power pack runs out for no good reason. At least he gets to provide expository dialogue in a reasonably convincing way (something he is always useful for) and advise the Doctor and Romana, but I do find the various ways used to incapacitate him in Season Eighteen rather sad. Although I suppose I should be glad that when he does leave the series, he isn’t actually put down. Lalla Ward is her usual reliable self here, especially in the first two episodes, when she acts panic-stricken very convincingly whilst the TARDIS is trapped in the chronic hysteresis. But it is Tom Baker who really excels here. However poorly characterised Meglos may actually be he is kept interesting by the performances of Tom Baker and Christopher Owen. Owen switches well between baffled Earthling and gloating villain in Episode One, but Baker really excels at playing the villain, proving for the second story in a row that he can act. There are points during ‘Meglos’ during which, thanks to a combination of impressive cactus make-up and Baker’s chilling performance, the character is thoroughly sinister, and Baker succeeds in keeping his performances as Meglos and the Doctor distinct, even when Meglos is actually impersonating the Doctor. It isn’t really enough to rescue ‘Meglos’ from its shortcomings, but it does at least make it worth watching at least once. 

Ultimately, ‘Meglos’ is disappointing, especially after ‘The Leisure Hive’. Fortunately, the following story succeeds in restoring Season Eighteen’s initial high quality…

There are, in my opinion, two basic types of vampire story. The first is the traditional type, based almost exclusively on the Bram Stoker’s Dracula, eventually reduced to the status of cliché by a long tradition of films in which aristocratic middle-aged men with widow’s peaks and red lined cloaks pray on visitors to their castles, especially buxom ones. The other type concern attempts to update the vampire mythos by bringing them into a modern setting, and examples include the Blade films, From Dusk till Dawn, and obscure British science fiction series Ultra-violet. Personally, I’m not hugely enthusiastic about either approach; I find it hard to take the former seriously due to over-exposure, and the latter inevitably brings to mind Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a series adored by many Doctor Who fans but despised by me for its “hip” wisecracking approach. For this reason I’ve never found ‘State of Decay’ that appealing, since it takes the traditional style of vampire stories but adds a new, more radical twist to it by cementing vampires firmly in the Doctor Who mythology. On this viewing however, I was forced to reassess my unenthusiastic attitude towards it, as it proved to be far better than I remembered.

‘State of Decay’ is, like most of the stories in Season Eighteen, very atmospheric, and it is this that makes it work. A sense of doom and gloom pervades the story throughout, as soon as the oppressive and depressing plight of the villagers is made clear early on. The background to the story is horrible; entire generations of Earth colonists trapped in a literal state of societal decay, forbidden to read or learn, and treated as little more than cattle by the Three Who Rule. The fact that there is nowhere else on the planet save for the village or the tower creates a claustrophobic feel to the story, and from the moment Ivo’s son Karl is chosen during the Selection, a relentlessly grim atmosphere prevails. It is to the credit of director Peter Moffatt that this is the case, since throughout Episode One, the poor characterisation I unfortunately tend to associate with Terrance Dicks’ writing is in evidence. The villagers are utterly forgettable, as are the rebels and the guards, and they are lumbered with dialogue that, whilst not exactly dreadful, fails to be particularly realistic (at one point, Ivo notes that “resistance would be useless”). It doesn’t help the production that there is also some bad acting on display; Clinton Greyn is unenthusiastic as Ivo and Iain Rattray is positively wooden as Habris. Fortunately, the unusual plot structure and the trio of villains compensate for both poor characterisation and ropey dialogue. 

The Three Who Rule work extremely well as the villains of ‘State of Decay’. Ranting megalomaniacs are commonplace in Doctor Who, and as literal monsters vampires can be excused for falling into this category, but Dicks manages to make them genuinely interesting by creating minor tensions within the group as Zargo and Camilla exhibit resentment for Aukon’s greater power and Zargo confesses to Camilla at one point that he is plagued by fears. These are minor touches, but they add depth to the characters. Aukon is particularly well realized as a religious fanatic with absolute faith in the Great One and dripping with zeal throughout. The three actors play their roles very well, making Zargo, Aukon and Camilla seem menacing without going over the top, which must have been tempting especially for William Lindsay who has to cope with one of the stupidest beards ever to appear in the series. In addition, all three vampires benefit from the great back-story; having decided to cast his vampires in the traditional mould as aristocrats living in what is essentially a castle, Dicks comes up with one of his more interesting plots by revealing that the tower is in fact a stranded spacecraft from Earth brought into E-Space by the power of the Great Vampire. He then plugs the entire concept of vampires seamlessly into the Doctor Who format by revealing that the Great Vampire is an ancient and awesomely powerful alien menace that has inspired myths and legends on a dozen planets throughout the universe, thus following in the largely successful tradition of stories such as ‘The Dæmons’ (disliked by me but popular with many fans), ‘Pyramids of Mars’, and ‘Image of the Fendahl’. Thanks to this rich fictional backdrop, ‘State of Decay’ manages to become more than it at first seems, which is basically a story in which a group of rebels from an oppressed population strive to overthrow the tyrants who are oppressing them. 

In addition to this, the story structure is rather interesting; the Doctor and Romana spend almost the entire story being captured or detained by various groups and then immediately provided with bucket loads of plot exposition. Examples include their detention by the rebels, who explain the poor state of their way of life, and their audience with first Zargo and Camilla and later Aukon, all of whom reveal interesting bits of plot detail. Even when the Doctor and Romana are alone in their cell, they sit and reveal more of the plot to the audience, as do the Doctor and K9 in the TARDIS in Episode Three. This smacks somewhat of lazy writing, but is dealt with so well by the actors involved and carried along so well by the general air of foreboding that instead it just seems novel and interesting. Indeed, the production is largely impressive; the sets and the location filming gel very well, and both look great. Even more impressively, the model shots of the village and tower fit very well with both. Stock footage of bats is used surprisingly well, although the briefly glimpsed model bats are horribly rubbery and unconvincing. Unfortunately, this is not the only dodgy aspect as the model work used to show the scout ship taking off, flipping over, and crashing down into the Great Vampire is diabolical, as is the mercifully brief glimpse of the Great Vampire itself on Calmar’s screen in Episode Four. On the other hand, the special effects sequence of the deaths of the Three Who Rule is very impressive. So two are Paddy Kingsland’s eerie and ominous incidental score, and Amy Roberts’ costumes, although Calmar’s headgear is almost as silly as Zargo’s beard. In addition, the three vampires get some extremely daft looking eye makeup, but overall the production’s good points out way the bad. And the superimposed shot of a bat appearing in front of Aukon in Episode One is great. 

Of the regulars, Tom Baker maintains his high form of the season thus far. He continues to bring out the Doctor’s grimmer, more serious side, adding weight to the dark feel of the story overall, but he also restores rather more of his Doctor’s characteristic humour than in the last three stories, which he uses to bring some much needed light relief to this gloomy story but controls sufficiently so that he doesn’t undermine the atmosphere. Lalla Ward is also on fine form here; of especial note is her convincingly acted terror in Episode Two as the Doctor drops hints to Romana about a monster beneath the tower, but the scene that really shines out is when Romana and the Doctor are talking in their cell. As she casually explains that all Type Forty TARDISes contain the Record of Rassilon and the Doctor tells her that she’s wonderful, the unusual closeness of this Doctor/companion team is emphasized; this is partly the reason why the combination of the Doctor, Romana and K9 is one of my favourite TARDIS crews and the scene carries extra poignancy with foreknowledge of the following story. K9 also gets his best story of the season; whilst he spends most of his time in the TARDIS, he remains useful throughout and also avoids the increasingly common indignities heaped upon him since ‘The Leisure Hive’. Even better, he gets to lead the assault on the tower, culminating in an amusing scene in which Ivo apologizes for underestimating him. On the other hand, it is with ‘State of Decay’ that Adric really starts to great on me. For one thing, he’s thoroughly annoying; his cheeky attitude towards both villagers and Aukon in Episode Two is possibly how a cocky teenager would actually behave, but this just serves to remind me why I don’t like teenagers. I’m reasonably confident that I was an obstreperous little bastard at Adric’s age, and would have been largely despised had I been inflected on the viewing millions. An even better example of how irritating he can be is in Episode Four, during his crap attempt to trick Aukon and this rescue Romana. That Aukon falls for it must mean that he’s stupider than he looks, and with that makeup he often looks pretty stupid. More vexingly, Matthew Waterhouse’s lack of acting experience and/or ability starts to become obvious here as he fails even to walk across the TARDIS console room without looking stilted when Adric emerges from hiding. This fusion of vile character and bad acting does not a winning combination make.

Overall, ‘State of Decay’ manages to maintain the quality of Season Eighteen and is much, much better than I remembered. It doesn’t help it though that it is sandwiched between the impressive ‘Full Circle’ and what is by far my favourite story of the entire season…

Two things strike me about ‘The Keeper of Traken’. The first is that has a dark fairytale quality and the second is that it has a distinctly theatrical feel. Either of these could be seen as an advantage under the right circumstances, but the problem is, both of these qualities seem to arise out of a combination of bad writing and poor production values, the result of which is that ‘The Keeper of Traken is a story that never fails to leave me cold. 

The basic underlying concept of the Traken Union is fascinating, in that it is a society held together “by people just being terribly nice to each other”, a society so pure that it literally makes evil shrivel up and die. This simplistic polarization of the concepts of good and evil is what makes ‘The Keeper of Traken’ feel so much like a fairytale to me, but it is ultimately facile. The main problem is the definition of evil; ultimately, the definition of evil is subjective. Whilst there are things that most people believe to be evil, there is no clearly drawn line on one side of which things are “good” and on the other of which they are “evil”, which rather raises the question of what the minimum is that one needs to do to be turned into a polystyrene statue. To further compound this issue, Traken seems to a be a society bordering on fascism, with the ruling Consuls discussing summary executions based on the most spurious of evidence. Most obviously, they are quick to condemn the Doctor and Adric based (from their point of view) on the Keeper’s say so, but this does raise the question, if the Doctor and Adric were evil and evil is immobilized by the power of the Source when arriving on Traken, why don’t the Consuls query their ability to walk around quite happily? By Episode Three, Kassia is able to convince Katura and Luvic of the need to execute their prisoners remarkably easily, Katura’s only comment being a sort of vague reluctance that such things are necessary. In addition, the Fosters, with their easily bribable and corrupt superior Neman, seem to have rather more power top enforce the word of the law than ordinary policemen do. 

In addition to this flawed premise, ‘The Keeper of Traken’ suffers from feeling almost like an amateur theatre production. For one thing, the dialogue, which most certainly is not anywhere near Shakespearean, is rather stilted and fails to sound natural throughout, something which is even more obvious having just watched ‘Warrior’s Gate’, in which the dialogue of Rorvik’s crew is much more realistic. In addition, the entire story is studio bound and the sets look somewhat drab, creating a claustrophobic air that always makes Traken seem more like a collection of rooms than a planet. As I’ve stated many times, this is a common failing of both Doctor Who and television science fiction in general, but here it seems more pronounced than in any story since ‘The Armageddon Factor’. In the case of this particular story, this doesn’t actually bother me specifically, but it does add to the impression that the entire story could be very easily performed on stage. 

My main problem with the stagy feel of ‘The Keeper of Traken’ is that it extends to the acting. Anthony Ainley, on the verge of taking on a more familiar role in the series, is actually rather good here, putting in a gentle, restrained performance that in retrospect does wonders for his reputation as an actor. Tremas is a likeable character from the start, and quickly forms a strong mutual respect with the Doctor, with Baker and Ainley working well together. Considering Tremas’ fate, this is appropriate, since it adds weight to the tragedy that befalls him, which would be far less pronounced if the Master stole somebody else’s body. Denis Carey, in his first role in Doctor Who to actually be broadcast, is perfectly adequate as the wizened Keeper, as is the ever-reliable John Woodnutt as Seron. Unfortunately, the other actors are less impressive; Margot van der Burgh’s Katura and Robin Soams’ Luvic are both utterly forgettable, although in all fairness this is largely due to the way the characters are scripted. Roland Oliver’s Neman is a pantomime stooge, taking so much delight in being ordered to push people around in later episodes that I half expect him to start twirling the ends of his large moustache. Most cringe-worthy of all however is Sheila Ruskin is dreadful as Kassia, over-acting to a horrible degree, especially whenever she is required to faint. Lurid hand-gestures and flared nostrils only emphasize the fact that her performance is hammy.

Then there is Geoffrey Beevers. It must be said that his performance is just as over the top as the Master as Anthony Ainley’s would shortly become, but I find it more enjoyable because it fits the tone of the story. Given that ‘The Keeper of Traken’ attempts to separate the concepts of good and evil so simplistically, and given that characters such as Kassia so obviously blur the line, Beever’s largely vocal performance as the real villain fits perfectly; his voice drips with malicious glee, which makes the Melkur really seem like the personification of evil that it is supposed to be. So thoroughly evil does he seem, that it is easy to believe that the immobilizing web of harmony that enshrouds Traken would ensnare the Master even if not corrupt public servants and traitors. In addition, I must admit that I do rather like stories in which old enemies are revealed to be lurking “behind the curtain”. Once the Doctor enters the Melkur and confronts his old enemy, my tolerance for Beevers’ performance diminishes somewhat, as he lurches about in a way that brings to mind Scooby Doo villains and tips the balance of ‘The Keeper of Traken’ from “theatrical” to “pantomimesque”. Nevertheless, the final scene, in which the Doctor’s old archenemy is restored to his former glory promises a great deal; the rivalry between the Third Doctor and the Master, despite being occasionally wrapped in some dreadful stories, was always enjoyable. Whether or not this promise is delivered on however, is a subject for another time…

Finally, the regulars put in decent performances here, even Matthew Waterhouse. The opening TARDIS scene lends credence to the fact that the combination of the Fourth Doctor and Adric showed great promise, once more casting the Doctor in the role of teacher to Adric’s keen student. In fact the opening scene is worth watching simply because it’s the last glimpse we see of Baker’s old humour in the role (except for the “this type’s not really my forte” line at the end of Episode Four), as the Doctor demonstrates his old ego, defends his handwriting, champions the cause of talking nonsense, and cracks jokes (Doctor: “I thought so!” Adric: “Thought what?” Doctor: “I thought you might appreciate it if gave you the impression I knew what was happening”). Adric is well written here, proving resourceful if hotheaded, and seeming to appreciate meeting Nyssa, somebody of his own age. This particularly makes sense given that Adric seems to have been something of an outsider amongst his own people (Varsh treated him as a little brother more than anything else) and has since been in the company of the Doctor and Romana. Sarah Sutton seems to provoke a rather harsh response from many fans, who describe her as wooden. I don’t think this is entirely fair; Nyssa’s overwhelming characteristics here are gentleness and a rather pampered upbringing; given that she could have been portrayed as a spoilt brat, the fact that the character is realized as somebody well rounded and intelligent is most welcome. Sutton’s performance seems to me to fit perfectly Nyssa’s quiet and gentle reserve, and she nicely conveys the character’s closeness to her father. This is important; Nyssa actually gets very little to do in her debut, but the gradually erosion of her family life, which although she doesn’t know it is utterly destroyed by the end of Episode Four, thus sets the tone for Baker’s swansong…

‘The Leisure Hive’ heralds the arrival of new producer John Nathan-Turner, and new script-editor Christopher H. Bidmead, and starts their era with a bang. The difference in style between Season Seventeen and Season Eighteen is considerable, as demonstrated by the new title sequence, showing the Doctor’s face against the backdrop of a star field accompanied by Peter Howell’s dynamic new arrangement of the theme tune. Although the Howell version of the theme tune is the one I grew up with, I actually prefer both the previous arrangement and the previous title sequence, but the impact of the new versions of both is undeniable. But by far the biggest change in style comes in the shape of the regular cast, as K9 is slowly phased out, and Tom Baker reigns in his performance for a sombre final year in the role. After the increasingly comic approach of Season Seventeen, Nathan-Turner’s new vision for Doctor Who comes as something of a shock; nevertheless, ‘The Leisure Hive’ is an impressive debut. 

Having become increasingly manic in the role of the Doctor, Tom Baker tones down his approach for ‘The Leisure Hive’, harking back to his more serious performances of the Hinchcliffe era. Appreciation of this rather depends on how individual fans prefer their Fourth Doctor, but as I’ve noted in the past, Baker’s tenure is long enough to accommodate such character development. The Doctor’s new mood is reflected in the opening sombre shot of a stark and wind swept Brighton Beach, the bleak atmosphere in keeping with Baker’s increased gravitas, and this continues throughout, with the Doctor’s usual eccentric wit stripped back to a bare minimum. It is still in evidence, as witness by his “arrest the scarf, then!” line and the scene in which he bluffs his way past an Argolin guide by warning him that there are two intruders at large in the Hive, but it is much more restrained than in ‘The Horns of Nimon’ or ‘Shada’. Baker rises to the challenge of restraining himself admirably, but his acting skills are really brought to the fore when the Doctor is aged by five hundred years in the Recreation Generator; the makeup used to make the Doctor appear ancient is astonishingly good, but it is the actual performance that really makes it work, as Baker makes the Doctor tired and absent minded, and changes his voice appropriately. 

Lalla Ward also puts in her usual reliable performance, although given that she tends to play the role straight throughout her time in the series, she isn’t required to tone it down in the same way that Tom Baker does. On the other hand, the serious tone of ‘The Leisure Hive’ does require her to convey a sense of urgency throughout, especially when she’s concerned for the Doctor in the Recreation Generator both in Episodes Two and Four, and she does this very well. The only other regular is K9, once more played by John Leeson. Annoyingly, Nathan-Turner elects to phase out the character, apparently considering him too much of a convenient tool for lazy writers, but prior to actually getting rid of him this approach means that K9 is subject to various indignities during the season, starting here as he trundles out of control into the sea and explodes. I have no objection to K9’s eventual departure, since companions have come and gone throughout the series, but I like K9 and it irritates me that he is subjected to such plot devices to remove him from the action; frankly, I’d rather he just stayed in the TARDIS, as in ‘City of Death’. On the other hand, it would be churlish to critics ‘The Leisure Hive’ for this, given that it is the result of an overall approach by the production team. 

And so on to the story itself. ‘The Leisure Hive’ is beautifully directed by Lovett Bickford and is riddled with impressive camera work and visuals. I’ve already mentioned the opening shot, but there are many more examples of note, including the zoom in on the Doctor’s screaming face at the end of Episode One, the Foamasi unmasking Brock and Clout at the end of Episode Two, and the fade out of the Doctor and Romana on Brighton beach into a star field and then into Argolis. This latter example is worthy of particular note, since it allows for expository dialogue to set the scene in a way that seems perfectly acceptable, rather than an example of lazing writing, which is usually the case with expository dialogue. In terms of production, everything works on ‘The Leisure Hive’, be it the model work, the sets, or the costumes. Peter Howell’s incidental music is perhaps a little brash, but is used well and the noticeable difference between this and Dudley Simpson’s work in prior seasons adds to the bold new approach of the series. 

What really makes ‘The Leisure Hive’ succeed is a combination of plot and acting. From Romana’s summary of the Argolin-Foamasi war in Episode One, and throughout the remainder of the story via the dialogue between the other characters, we are provided with a wealth of background information that gives ‘The Leisure Hive’ a sense of depth. The problem of presenting detailed alien cultures is circumvented by having the Argolin a race devastated by war, whose planet is uninhabitable save for the sanctuary of the Hive itself; thus, we have merely a handful of Argolin, whose cultural background is used as a way of justifying the limited population and providing the basis for the story. A war that lasted twenty minutes doomed the entire species, motivating them to construct the Hive and the Experiential Grid as a means of promoting peace and understanding between alien species. Parallel with the this basic premise, we have the subplot of Pangol’s intentions for his people and he too rides on the crest of a wave of carefully imparted tidbits of information, as we eventually discover that he is the child of the Recreation Generator, the only such child to have been created with deformities, and now in a position to create others of his kind without any of the problems that previously led to a twenty year moratorium on the technology. And in addition to this we have the Foamasi, the other species involved in the war. As with the Argolin, the Foamasi are well motivated; famously an anagram of Mafiosa, the Foamasi seen in ‘The Leisure Hive’ represent two distinct factions, the criminal West Lodge, and the Foamasi Government seeking to stop them. It is unusual to have one alien race presented not as a homogenous group of “monsters” but as a race of people, but to have two is even more impressive. In addition, it allows both writer David Fisher and director Bickford to play with audience expectations as the briefly glimpsed Foamasi who break into the Hive in Episode One turn out not to be the villains of the piece. Visually, both Argolin and Foamasi are well realized, although notoriously the question is raised as to how the bulky Foamasi could fit into their human guises. Fans of this story take note however; an explanation has since been offered in Gary Russell’s ‘Placebo Effect’!

The extensive motivation of the characters in ‘The Leisure Hive’ benefits the story enormously, and means that although there are villains, they are a far cry from the power-crazed madmen often seen in Doctor Who. The phony Brock, superbly played by John Collin with just the right amount of smarminess, is motivated by business, to the extent that he and Clout have been systematically sabotaging the workings of the Hive to drive it into financial ruin, forcing the Argolin to sell Argolis. The ill-fated Stimson is similarly motivated by profit, in his case offering the false promise of survival to Mena in exchange for financial gain, but he is nicely contrasted with Nigel Lambert’s troubled Hardin, who is crucial to Stimson’s scheme but who is forced to deal with his conscience. His genuine concern for Mena becomes increasingly evident throughout, and he makes a sincere attempt to redeem himself for his deceit by eventually saving her life. Also worthy of note is Morix, played by Lawrence Payne who returns to the series having previously played Johnny Ringo in ‘The Gunfighters’, who serves to illustrate the fate awaiting all Argolin by expiring in Episode One. He is nicely contrasted with Mena, who is less prepared to accept the fate of her people, hence her faith in Hardin’s experiments, but who is unwilling to go to the same lengths to save the Argolin as her adopted son. And is it David Haig as Pangol who really commands attention throughout. Pangol is the archetypal angry young man, frustrated by his people’s fate and so desperate to avert it that he is willing to repeat the mistakes of the past in an effort to compensate for them. Haig is totally convincing in the role, presenting Pangol as a man struggling to keep his feelings in check in accordance with Mena’s wishes (witness his appalled “it’s not for sale” in Episode One), until by Episode Three he finally prepares to make his misguided play for glory.

One thing that I would like to mention is that fans who appear to have no grounding in science like to praise Bidmead for his “hard science” approach to the series; what he actually does is use more internally consistent and better thought out technobabble than Douglas Adams, with a few words like tachyon, a genuine theoretical concept, thrown in for good measure. In truth, I’m not convinced that the denouement in Episode Four of ‘The Leisure Hive’ entirely makes sense, but this may be because I haven’t thought about it properly. Nevertheless, this approach does make Doctor Who feel more like science fiction and less like fantasy, which is either a good or a bad thing depending entirely on personal preference. In summary then, ‘The Leisure Hive’ is a striking debut for Nathan-Tuner and Bidmead and an impressive start to the season.

After the simplistic ‘Meglos’, ‘Full Circle’ is a return to form for Season Eighteen, benefiting from a rewardingly complex plot and generally excellent acting and production. With no real villain, but instead a struggle against a harsh and alien environment underpinned by plot twist upon plot twist, ‘Full Circle’ is memorably unusual, a fact which ultimately, is its strength. 

The plot of ‘Full Circle’ unfolds beautifully. Initially, a sense of foreboding is created as the Alzarians gather river fruits whilst Decider Draith and Dexeter ominously discuss the early signs of Mistfall and it becomes clear that a threat is looming that will threaten the inhabitants of the Starliner. The premise seems simple; a crashed spacecraft is stranded on an alien world, and its occupants struggle to survive whilst they affect repairs, as the first signs of a hostile threat from the planet in question begin to appear. This is fairly standard stuff, but even at this early stage, the direction and the scripting promise a great deal, by carefully building suspense. Towards the end of Episode One, as the Starliner is prepared to be sealed until Mistfall has passed, this promise is delivered on as the Marshmen erupt from the waters in slow motion as the Doctor and K9 look on, making for a highly effective cliffhanger. But ‘Full Circle’ quickly expands beyond this seemingly basic premise as plot twists allow revelation after revelation and it becomes clear that all is not as it seems. The scene in Episode Three boasts two such revelations in the same scene, as the Doctor angrily reveals to Login that the Starliner has long been ready for takeoff and accuses the Deciders of prevaricating needlessly to maintain the status quo; Baker delivers his lines in this scene superbly, in one of my favourite moments of the entire season, only for his towering contempt to be deflated by Nefred’s solemn response that whilst the Starliner is ready for takeoff and has been for generations, nobody knows how to fly it. But this is as nothing to the superb final episode, in which the full truth of events on Alzarius is revealed, the Doctor finally realizing that when the Starliner first crash-landed, not forty generations ago, as its occupants believe, but forty thousand generations ago, its original inhabitants died. The clues as to where the current occupants therefore came from are carefully built up throughout the last two episodes, but it is only when the Doctor pronounces that the Marshmen are the ancestors of the current Starliner inhabitants that everything finally falls satisfyingly into place. 

The way in which the Marshmen are utilized in ‘Full Circle’ is one of the story’s highlights. On a basic level, they are of course monsters, and in this respect they work well. In fact, it is to Peter Grimwade’s credit that they work as well as they do, thanks to his excellent direction; look at a static photograph of the Marshmen and they are clearly men in rubber suits, but on screen they are highly effective. Their masks look both alien and bestial, which enhances their effectiveness, and as they stride through the mist brandishing clubs threateningly they are passably scary by Doctor Who’s standards. Further adding to their credibility, the actors inside the suits do a good job of making them seem animalistic and the snarling sound that they make as the maraud through both marsh and Starliner complements this. And the script does very well at making them seem dangerous; they kill numerous people, including of course Varsh, and after they are driven out of the Starliner at the end of Episode Four, it is made clear that if the ship stays on Alzarius, they will be adaptive enough to eventually discover a way of getting back inside. But it is this very ability to adapt that makes them not monsters but animals, and once it is explained just how they relate to the occupants of the Starliner it is impossible to view them as the bogeymen that they are initially made out to be; ultimately, their ability to evolve is not monstrous, but fascinating. If this argument fails to convince the audience, we are also given the Marshchild, which further demystifies the Marshmen. The Marshchild’s story is a tragic one; after its early playful reaction to the Doctor and increasing trust in him, it is cruelly mistreated by the occupants of the Starliner, and is clearly as terrified of them as they are of its adult brethren. Despite the Doctor’s attempts to save it, it is subjected to Dexeter’s callous experiments, designed to allow him to understand the Marshmen. Ironically of course, it is the Doctor, who recognizes the intelligence of the Marshchild and reaches out to it, who comes closest to understanding the nature of the creatures and eventually learns the truth about them. Dexeter on the other hand succeeds only in provoking the hostile reaction in the Marshchild that he expects of the creatures, and is killed as a result. To compound this tragedy, the Marshchild itself, angry and traumatized, dies by reaching out to the one person who has shown it kindness. 

The acting of the guest cast also contributes to the success of ‘Full Circle’, and is generally of a very high standard. I will, inevitably, discuss Adric further below, but the Outlers are well acted and indeed well characterised as truculent teenage rebels, with Richard Willis’ Varsh of particular note, especially during his final scenes as he is dragged to his death during an act of heroism. The Deciders, the story’s other main group of speaking characters, are also well acted and James Bree’s troubled portrayal of Nefred almost compensates for his disastrous performance as the Security Chief way back in ‘The War Games’. The Deciders are very well written; the script allows them to be convincingly portrayed as the prevaricating and indecisive leaders that the Doctor initially believes them to be, whilst also making the eventual revelation that they can do absolutely nothing except maintain the status quo due to circumstances beyond their control entirely believable. Leonard Maguire’s Decider Draith is thus perfectly characterised as a wise and respected leader who has bourn the weight of the secret of the system files but who wishes that he could share them; he reprimands Dexeter for daring to enquire about these secrets, but in his dying moments he tells Adric to let Dexeter know that they have “come full circle”, suggesting that he finally decides that his people should know the truth about what they are about to face. Nefred and Garif are initially much of a kind as each other, both happy to follow Draith’s lead, and both ultimately indecisive despite their titles. That they are so alike means that Nefred’s change in attitude after he reads the system files is extremely noticeable, and the resulting contrast between the now-deeply troubled Nefred and the concerned but more placid Garif adds to the story’s suspense by indicating that plot twists are to follow. Finally, George Baker’s Login completes the complement of Deciders, and he contrasts very well with Nefred and Garif; when first seen he is fraught with anxiety over the fate of his daughter, and this emotion makes him stand out from Nefred and Garif, both at this stage motivated purely by duty however regrettably events surrounding them may be. It is perhaps Login who represents the best hope for the Starliner, as from the start he questions the acceptance of the traditions that his fellow Deciders automatically observe, and actually reacts to events, such as when the Marshmen invade the Hall of Books whilst Garif and Nefred dither about what to do. At the end, when the Doctor explains to the Deciders how to fly the Starliner, Login reaches for the take off button, only for Garif to stall him, suggesting that such a decision requires some thought. I suggest that when the Starliner is seen to take off on the TARDIS scanner at the end, it is still Login who makes the decision, and that it is he who will lead his people to a new life. 

The production of ‘Full Circle’ is superb. The direction makes the story very atmospheric and also allows it to move along at an impressive pace; the slow-motion emergence of the Marshmen from the waters at the end of Episode One is especially impressive. The generally creepy atmosphere is greatly benefited by Paddy Kingsland’s dramatic and often eerie incidental score, especially during the mist-shrouded location scenes. This location work is very effective, and because the majority of the studio scenes are set within the Starliner, the studio and location work don’t jar. In fact the only set that really needs to feel like it is part of the same environment as the location footage is the Outler’s cave, and careful use of lighting, plus a pretty decent set, means that this is more than passable. It is also interesting that in this story, much more than in ‘Meglos’, we start to see quite a lot of the TARDIS interior (Romana’s room is a case in point), something that becomes more and more common during John Nathan-Turner’s tenure as producer. The only weak point of the overall production is the realization of the spiders, but then this isn’t the first time that unconvincing giant spiders have appeared in Doctor Who… On the other hand, the model of the Starliner is well designed, and its take off at the end is rather well done. Whilst I’m on the subject of model work, it’s also nice to see the TARDIS in flight again, as it passes through the CVE. The costume design is also worth mentioning; I’ve already mentioned the Marshmen, but the costumes of the other characters effectively reflect their social standing, showing that some thought has gone into the designs. The Deciders’ uniforms are of course the most grandiose, whereas the yellow clothing worn by the other occupants of the Starliner are far more worn, as befits clothing that is worn during farming and harvesting. They also contrast nicely with Adric’s clothing, also yellow, but which are far finer quality, reflecting the fact that he is a member of a scientific elite, complete with gold-edged badge. Finally, the mismatched wardrobe of the Outlers depicts the fact that they have chosen to live on the edge of their society.

The regulars continue to be on form here. Tom Baker gives one of his finest performances when unfairly condemning the Deciders for their prevarication, and especially when angrily challenging Dexeter’s experiments with the Marshchild. Whilst I am very fond of much the Graham Williams, I do in retrospect appreciate the fact that for his final season, Baker was forced to reign in the comedy and return partly to the commanding performance he delivered in his first three seasons, whilst also making the role more sombre than ever before as he nears the end. Whilst Season Eighteen feels considerably less cosy than much of Baker’s time as the Doctor, it nevertheless provides a timely reminder of just how good an actor he could be. Having said all that, he still gets plenty of opportunity to display his usual wit, such as his repeated double takes when the Outlers leave the TARDIS in Episode Three. Lalla Ward as Romana is used well, although some of her performance whilst infected with the spider toxins seems rather stagy. Romana benefits from the story in two ways; firstly, her initial recall to Gallifrey reminds the viewer just how much she has changed during her time with the Doctor, as she has come to enjoy her travels and has become considerable more competent. Secondly, her experience gained with the Doctor is nicely highlighted by the comparison with Adric and the other Outlers, which paves the way for her handing over the companion role to a far less experienced traveler and departing to follow her own path. Poor old K9 on the other hand continues to suffer, this time getting virtually nothing to do expect get decapitated. 

Finally of course, ‘Full Circle’ sees the introduction of a new regular, in the shape of Matthew Waterhouse’s Adric. It is very easy to criticize both Waterhouse’s dire acting and Adric’s irritating character, as I will unfortunately demonstrate in due course, but here Waterhouse is quite good and Adric fulfills his role perfectly adequately. Adric’s potential is considerable really; seemingly orphaned, only to see his brother die here, Adric really feels like the outsider he thinks he is here. Separated from his fellows by his mathematical prowess, but too rebellious to happily fit into the society of the Starliner, he is in other ways a typical awkward teenager, and the way in which he latches onto the Doctor as a mentor worthy of his respect and from whom he can learn a great deal promises much for this new Doctor/companion relationship. His confusion when the Doctor tells him to cross his fingers nicely shows how much Adric has to learn and the Doctor slips surprisingly patiently into the role of teacher. It is painfully obvious even here that Matthew Waterhouse the actor is only capable of frowning in puzzlement, smiling sickeningly, or looking blank, but these three expressions are all he needs here. I could cynically suggest that Adric’s stunned look when he has to confront Varsh’s death is actually Waterhouse’s default expression, but given the depths to which his acting will later sink, I’m willing to reserve judgement for now.

In summary, ‘Full Circle’ is an underrated masterpiece and a fine return to form after ‘Meglos’. Ironically, the E-Space subplot for which this story is often so well remembered by fans is almost superfluous and seems to have been introduced solely to sow the seeds for Romana’s impending departure. Nevertheless, it makes for a nice final scene, as the TARDIS and its occupants set off in search of a way home.

This was undoubtedly the most portentous DW story I had ever seen (pretentious even? Surely not!), featuring mathematics, physics, entropy and Aldous Huxley - all things I knew nothing about. So much of this story went over my head, but even then I thought it was good. The Doctor had changed from a clown to a sombre, craggy faced figure in a wonderful burgundy costume - was this the same person who had had such dire adventures as the Invasion of Time and Underworld, who had hammed it up shamelessly in stories like the Horns of Nimon. Now he is a dignified time traveller once again, but a little too late....

The background music sets a nice sombre tone, especially when Logopolis starts to fall down around the main cast, and the sets look superb. The real attraction of the story, however, is the Master. I love having old baddies come back on the show and who better, really, to cause the fourth Doctor's downfall - though I did think the Black Guardian might have made an appearance. Actually he does but, well, you know what I mean.

After taking over Tremas in the shock ending to Traken, we don't actually see the Master in the first two episodes here. He kills people, chuckles quite a bit, but is not seen. This is good, brings out the tension. But his eventual appearance in part three - dear oh dear! Okay, he looked the part - beard, gloves, dressed in black, etc, I even liked the penguin suit and his voice was chilling in a toneless sort of way. Not unlike the War Lord's voice, another excellent baddie. But the Master just keeps laughing and chuckling, when the Tardis is shrunk and when he is controlling the CVE - it is way over the top and you just want someone to jab him with a sharp stick. But, that aside, he is a true villain and I loved his TCE gun - he shrunk people, humans and Logopolitans alike, with cheerful indifference although his motives were a tad baffling at first. I didn't know about the Numbers, or suchlike.

So, a wonderful swan song for a Doctor I had grown up with for so long I couldn't remember the last one. And thank heavens the Tardis interiors looked like the console room - no more YMCA type sports centres!