When most people think of Ben Aaronovitch’s contribution to the television series of Doctor Who they automatically say ‘Oh yes, he wrote that one with the Daleks’. Having watched ‘the forgotten other story’ recently I would like to mention a few points in its favour. I get the impression that this opening story of the twenty-sixth season is a neglected classic of the McCoy era with many references and influences from other stories that have preceded it. Some of which are more obvious (the inclusion of Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, and the yellow roadster ‘Bessie’ (however one thing I thought was a bit too much of a coincidence was when it was finally uncovered after however long it’s been that it now surprisingly has the licence plate ‘WHO 7’!), whilst other are more subtle. Examples of which would be the use of a Citroen 2CV (echoes of the vehicles used in ‘The Sea Devils’) and King Arthur’s spaceship under Vortigern’s lake (sounds a bit like ‘Terror of the Zygons’ if you ask me!). Also it was probably a throw away line but when first encountering the UNIT personnel by the lake the Doctor is conviently carrying ‘antiquated passes’ presumably originally issued to the third Doctor and Liz Shaw. I say throwaway as Brigadier Bambera quickly ignores them, although it is enough to prompt her assistant Sergeant Zbrigniev to recall his time spent working for Lethbridge-Stewart.

We open with the garden centre scene and the remark of ‘Do you regret leaving teaching?’ directed at Lethbridge-Stewart clearly links to the 1983 Mawydrn Undead story. As far back as ‘Planet of the Spiders’ we knew of his romantic involvement with a lady called Doris, and it is here that we finally have the chance to briefly meet her at either end of the story. In the timeline of the series, having now retired from UNIT it is heartwarming to see they are now married and enjoying their more relaxed life together. An impressive Tudor residence set in beautiful gardens coupled with glorious summer weather is certainly one of many pleasing and memorable images this story presents. As he prepares to temporarily leave this tranquil setting, having once more dusted off and put on his uniform I thought it a nice bit of continuity that the case containing his service revolver and bullets had, in gold lettering, the inscription ‘AGLS-6’ (an acronym of Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart).

I feel this story succeeds in reaffirming the mystical quality of the Doctor who gains the identity of Merlin from those ‘star travellers’ from another dimension, visiting the Earth of the future. This is further supported by Sylvester McCoy’s interpretation of the Doctor whilst dealing with Ancelyn, Morgaine and her followers.

What we appear to have here is, in broad terms, a medieval knight society visiting a future Earth in our dimension attempting to acquire King Arthur’s sword Excalibur. I suspect from the battle between good and evil forces using some element of magic which has caused a time slip into our reality.

A criticism levelled against this story is the use of a lot of armour clad knights clonking about with broadswords with a lot of macho posturing. I personally think this is underserved as these brief medieval jousting is entirely appropriate to the piece. It is, at this point worth mentioning that the use of sword fighting is well documented throughout the series. Who could forget the Doctor battling the Master at the Fort (The Sea Devils) and in the banquet hall of Ranulfs castle (The Kings Demons). Not forgetting a tussle with Count Grendel (The Androids of Tara). And armour clad warriors brings memories of the Gundan robots (Warriors Gate). Here the protagonists really go for it coupled with some rousing incidental music to engage the viewer. Of course this is merely a prelude to the main medieval warriors against UNIT soldiers battle waged during the fourth episode, a suitably engaging piece filled with explosions, roars, swords, guns, and men flying through the air, all accompanied by more appropriately composed music.

Another criticism levelled against this story is regarding the temporary interest shown by the Doctor towards the scabbard hanging up next to the fireplace inside the Gore Crow hotel (an apparently long established building if the figure of 1684 carved into the stonework is to be believed). My opinion is that as the story progresses it is merely a red herring as there are more important things for our heroes to concentrate on. I think it is possibly because of Carbury Trust archaeologist Peter Warmsley’s action of removing the scabbard from its buried position Morgaine, Ancelyn and the other knights were able to lock onto the general location of Excalibur. It is when Morgaine and Mordred reach the Gore Crow hotel they then realise that it is merely an empty container and they then focus their attention elsewhere. Although it is interesting to note that whilst Mordred is performing a summoning ritual the scabbard is affected. We know that Excalibur poses magical powers, I suspect some of these rubbed off on the scabbard which had been in contact with it. It does indeed appear to be the same length as the mystical sword when the two objects are later held together by Ace and Shou Yuing whilst they dwell in the chalk circle thus supporting the supposition.

The future as depicted in the story is not so very different from our own, although inflation has certainly spiralled ever higher (£5 for three drinks at the Gore Crow hotel in the first episode – sounds like daylight robbery!). The only changes to UNIT appear to be pale blue berets and, now in command, a seemingly resolute determined young black female Brigadier in the shape of Winifred Bambera (taking charge on her arrival at the Gore Crow hotel, and threatening the assembled group at the end of the first episode spring to mind). Whilst most of the people seemed to accept her authority it is the attractive blond haired Ancleyn who delights in belittling her position of command from their first meeting. The character interaction between them during the remainder of the story (she trying to assert her authority, he belittling her) is one of the most enjoyable aspects of the story. Bambera finally appears to win this light hearted conflict during their journey in the 2CV when they encounter Morgaine’s troops blocking the road. You can understand the Knight Commander’s comment of ‘Magnificent’ when she pulls the top back and, having got Ancleyn to hold the steering wheel, climbed up, machine gun in hand and proceeded to coldly and clinically force the obstructing soldiers out of the way with abrupt precise rounds of her weapon.

The pairing of Ace with Chinese student Shou Yuing definitely worked well and providing the opportunity to probe into Ace’s past as the two girls enjoy their drinks outside at the rear of the Gore Crow hotel. The humorous story of the ‘home made gelignite’ and schoolteacher Mrs Parkinson’s inquiry and attempted confiscation of said questionable material further reaffirms her ultimate arrival on Iceworld (‘Dragonfire’).

As the main protagonist Jean Marsh, I feel, portrays the character well, thanks in part to an impressive bronze costume of plate and chain mail finished off with a subtle full length cloak. The finishing touches of long ‘witch’ nails, long crimped red hair and a tall plainly detailed regal crown added to her imposing presence. I particularly remember her encounter with Lethbridge Stewart’s pilot, Lovel in the Gore Crow hotel bar. Lovel uselessly fires her revolver at Morgaine who catches the bullets, grinds them into dust, then casually scatters them over the floor. With an air of subtly she moves in, fingernail talons extended towards Lovel’s head, the soldier slowly sinking to the floor in meek submission. Having gained the necessary information, the continued mind probing finally causing Lovel to scream out as her brain fries. Having been prompted, a brief extension of a taloned hand and the still figure of Lovel is dispassionately disintegrated.

The only aspect I found disappointing would be ‘The Destroyer’ character whom seemed to offer a threat to humanity but didn’t really deliver. However credit though is deserved to the make up team for realising this chained enemy who is easily despatched, via a polished performance from Nicholas Courtney, towards the end of the story.

In summary this is an enjoyable romp with a healthy mix of series history, magic, humour (McCoy’s creeping about early in the morning at the Gore Crow hotel, using a blown up crisp packet to wake Bambera and Ancelyn from their slumber is a good example of this) and armed conflict combined with an engaging incidental music score. If you are one of those people who have previously looked unfavourably on this story I hope you will return to it, give it another chance and possibly, just possibly you might realise that it isn’t quite as bad as it’s unjust reputation would suggest. For myself I sincerely hope that it might eventually be considered at some point in the near future, for membership in the ever growing ‘exclusive DVD title release club’, complete with deleted scenes and maybe, if applicable, with a stereo soundtrack.

Before I start this essay I should warn you that I am a biologist, damn it, not a movie critic. But I also love Scifi movies and television and Doctor Who in particular. Ghost Light is noted as being the penultimate story of the TV series, tackling evolution, and for being so creepy. However reviews are often mixed, especially in discussion about the complexity of the plot and the topic of evolution. I agree with most of the reviews that the story has an effectively creepy atmosphere, great lines, and enough twists and turns to well sustain interest in the three-part story. But what I offer is a biology professor’s view could illuminate something about how evolution is used in this story.

Evolution is usually presented in one of several ways in scifi & fantasy. The first is to rehash the monkey trial with a dialog between hip scientists and old earth creationists. This is seen in some versions of the Lost World but is best used in the dramatization of “Inherit the Wind”. This is done effectively in Ghost Light with the conservative 19th Century character of Rev. Mathews. 

The next way evolution is portrayed is as a weird form of metamorphosis. Pokemon, Altered States and the Outer Limits episode the Sixth Finger are notable examples. While Doctor Who already covered this in the Mutants, Ghost Light uses the metamorphosis of the aliens and discussion of everyone constantly adapting. Josiah even goes as far as causing poor old Rev. Mathews to evolve (or de-evolve) into a more primitive kind of primate. While this devise works well for cinema, it is not the way that evolution actually occurs. Evolution is genetic and occurs between generations. It is all about sex and not “survival of the fittest” as most people misunderstand.

The third way that evolution is portrayed is to suggest an extra-terrestrial origin or cause in the evolution of humans. 2001: A Space Odyssey, Quatermass and the Pit are notable examples. The Image of Fendahl is a clear example in Doctor Who and so perhaps is Earthshock. Although extra-terrestrials are not implicated in the evolution of our species directly in Ghost Light, the fact that they could cause the good reverend to change make it possible.

Thus far nothing is unique and nothing is complex in this story. But Ghost Light also presents a new way to use evolution as a scifi vehicle. The alien crew has the job of cataloging all of Earth’s species. However Light discovers that in the time that it takes to finish the task, life evolves into new species so the process has to be continually repeated. Tired of this endless pursuit, he plans to end all life on Earth so that his catalog will be forever and correct. This is a really interesting concept. But is it complex? Some reviewers seem to think not and say that the plot is implausible because life couldn’t evolve that fast. A recent study showed that river spawning salmon that were released into a lake in the 1930s had adapted and evolved into a new species by the 1990’s. It turns out that evolution can occur in as little as just a few generations.

In two and half centuries thousands of naturalists and scientists have named and described over a million species of plants, animals and microbes. New species are still being discovered every day and in recent years many of these require using DNA technology to distinguish forms as separate species. A totally new species of whale was recently discovered this way. The rate of discovering new species suggests that there are at least 5 million species alive today and perhaps as many as 50-100 million species. The majority of organisms are types of primitive microbes that live under the ocean floor and deep underground in places that life was not known to exist until the last 25 years. Plus it often takes scientists a year or two to identify, describe and catalog a new species. So the task of cataloging every species on the planet is quite enormous. If we use the conservative figure of 5 million species and assume that Light and his small crew could identify, describe and catalog and average of one species in a single day (an extraordinary feat), then it would take them more than 13,000 years to complete the task. This is plenty of time for new species to evolve and create the endless cycle portrayed in Ghost Light. 

Overall Ghost Light is a good piece of science fiction and ranks among the better Doctor Who adventures. I rate it much higher because of the scifi new concept that it makes. Three and a half stars out of four.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ghost Light has always been one of those Doctor Who stories that you wouldn't be ashamed to show your friends. It has a certain respectability: atmospheric, well-acted, ironic, compelling. Good TV, plain and simple. Looking at it now, in 2003, I can't find any reason to change my opinion. There's the odd flaw, often related to haste or lack of time (as when a piece of dialogue is spoilt by an obtrusively abrupt cut in the the Reverend Ernest Matthews introductory scene). But this sort of tiny technical flaw is part of what makes Who so endearing; it's not enough to spoil an excellent story.

The plot itself is, as is often noted, a little opaque. One reason for this is that much of the dialogue (in the first two episodes at least) doesn't actually provide a lot of explanation as to what is going on - unusually for Doctor Who, there isn't a great amount of expository writing. There are enigmatic conversations (such as that between the Doctor and Isiah), bewildering monologues (Fenn-Cooper's, in episode one, is superb), and much else that is strange and perplexing (in a good way), but we, the viewer, are left to fill in many of the gaps.

We may have to watch Ghost Light a couple of times to appreciate it fully, but when a story is so full of brilliant moments, it isn't really a hardship. There is Ace's analysis of the 19th century mind: "Scratch the Victorian veneer, and something nasty will come crawling out!"; the Reverend, firmly against the theory of evolution, de-evolving into an ape-like state, munching a banana; and the iconic moment where the Doctor is told, after he stops a clock by halting the movement of the pendulum, that he is as "powerful" as he is "wise". Even writing about it makes me smile. Ghost Light takes Doctor Who and makes it better; takes two characters, and makes them finer and more complex.

The New Adventures told stories too broad or deep for the screen, and here Platt plants seeds for what would follow: a Doctor with dark motives and agendas - "Even I can't play this many games at once!" - and an Ace tormented with memories, looking on as a building burns, emergency-service lights flashing in her face. Highly recommended, and definitely worth revisiting.

The story's opening is beautifully dark, with a suitably disturbing introduction to one of the Doctor's boldest stories. The period of the story is set efficiently, and the introduction of the Doctor and Ace shows off the wonderful rapport that has developed between both the characters and the actors. The Doctor's line, 'It's a surprise,' in reference to the reason for their visit, seems almost cruel on a repeated viewing, evidence of the Doctor's evolution, an overall theme of the story, into someone, or something, darker; less predictable.

The Doctor and Ace seem to 'slide' into the story, and are almost too readily accepted with no question from the players, but this ultimately only reinforces the themes developed later in the story and is typical of the show's era. The introduction of Nimrod is our first true sign that all is not as it should be, besides the glowing purple eyes which merely softened the impact without ever being adequately explained. Despite events spiralling dangerously, the Doctor now takes an admirable degree of control over the situation. It is perhaps of no coincidence that a character by that very name appears later in the story. The character of Josiah Smith,though, is a truly wonderful creation of style, with his shades, dust and white gloves, combined with substance, in his references to the moth's need to evolve due to industrial influence, again introducing the theme of evolution.

The story feels as if a great debt is owed to 'Sapphire and Steel' in as much as it feels wonderfully claustrophobic, and not least for the shots of Redvers strapped into a straightjacket whilst light pours from the snuffbox. The scripting also shines, as shown in the exchange between Ace and the Doctor as the girl realises that her protector has deceived her; but it is the Doctor's revelation that he loathes bus stations, unrequited love, cruelty and tyranny that simply explains the Doctor for who he is.

The story is filmed with a certain flair including some beautiful juxtaposition of imagery, such as the Reverend being drugged whilst Josiah's niece plays the piano, for example; the song predicting the Reverend's final fate.

There follows an example of one this era's laudable 'reality slaps', where Ace reveals how her friend's flat was firebombed, causing Ace to no longer care. Beside being dramatic and anchoring the fantastic in a harsh reality, these references served the writers of Virgin's 'New Adventures' extraordinarily well. 

Of pure joy is the knowing line, 'Oh don't worry, I always leave things to the last moment.' It serves not only as a reference to the way the Doctor always appeared to deal with the problem in 'the nick of time', but also emphasises the way the Doctor has again taken control of the situation. This becomes a recurring theme in this era, introducing the concept of the Doctor as a controller, rather than simply being caught up in a chain of events. It is something of a shame that McCoy's earlier stories put so many viewers off 'Doctor Who' , resulting in many people not witnessing the show's gradual transformation into something darker, more adult; a show beginning to show itself more than worthy of tackling the concerns of the final part of the millennium.

The introduction of the Policeman quietly emphasises the Doctor's power and also carries an echo of characters from earlier Victorian stories in his true old-fashioned perspective, along with the racist attitudes.

The Doctor reminds us of two things with his line, 'You must excuse me, things are getting out of control'; that he does exert some form of control over the proceedings but that his control is not perfect. This has the effect of disquieting the viewer and adds to the reinvented mysterious nature the Doctor has been acquiring, as events spiral out of control once more. The disturbing concept of the Doctor directly meddling and then losing control is never more emphasised than when Light casually destroys the maid under Josiah's control.

We learn more of Ace's past as her character is fleshed out further, just before a delightfully creepy yet somewhat kitsch sequence which leads to an equally delightful mid-episode cliffhanger as the now darkened Gwen takes advantage of Ace's momentary weakness. The following action sequences admittedly let the story down, but to err is to leave one wanting more. There is a wonderful nod to the now late Douglas Adams, as the Doctor, and the script, regain control, culminating in the excising of Ace's ghosts.