Following his interesting little story “The Savages,” Ian Stuart Black pulls a double-header with “The War Machines” - Doctor Who’s first real ‘contemporary invasion’ story. New producer Innes Lloyd had decided that he wanted to strive for greater realism within the series, and as such it was scientist Doctor Kit Pedler (who would go on to co-create the Cybermen) who pitched the idea for “The War Machines”, which for the first time sees the Doctor in the unfamiliar position (at least thus far) of liasing with the proper authorities to stop a self-aware computer, WOTAN, from taking over the world. 

Kit Pedler’s input to the storyline is evident throughout, the concept of ‘techno fear’ that runs throughout much of his work forming the backbone of this story. Whereas Pedler’s Cybermen would seek to replace their organs (and ultimately their very souls) with technology, WOTAN (pronounced VOTAN, apparently. Very German!) simply decides that mankind cannot progress any further and should be wiped out. The Post Office Tower makes a very good setting for this story, and is another example of how much more disturbing a story is when it is set somewhere familiar. In the previous season, the Daleks in the centre of London really helped raise the fear factor, and the production team had obviously taken that on board and even taken it a step further, setting the story in the present day – something that would be backbone of the series in years to come. The eponymous ‘War Machines’ themselves are the mechanical servants of WOTAN, which look like the sort of little tanks that you might come across in Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers. They may look quite imposing on Blue Peter, but in the story come across as utterly feeble - defeated by everyday things like rope!

Also in line with Lloyd’s desire for realism, this serial introduces two new companions who are very much in tune with the ‘swinging sixties’ – seaman Ben Jackson (Michael Craze) and fun-loving secretary Polly Wright (Anneke Wills). Best of all, the second episode of this story sees Jackie Lane makes her final appearance as the dreadful Dodo. Appropriately, she isn’t given a decent send-off. In fact, she isn’t given a send of at all! After being brainwashed by WOTAN, she takes off somewhere to recuperate and then at the end of the story, when she’s no more than a bad memory in the minds of viewers, Polly passes a message to the Doctor that Dodo has decided to stay in 1966! In marked contrast to my feelings about Dodo, I am a huge fan of both Ben and Polly – two very underrated companions. Polly is introduced very early on and is cheeky, sexy and forward – a totally different breed of companion to the likes of Susan, Vicki and Dodo. In the Inferno Club that she takes Dodo to, we also meet Ben who at first seems to be the complete opposite of Polly – sullen, boring and withdrawn. Polly tries to cheer him up, and in the end he ends up rescuing her from a sleazy guy who won’t take no for an answer and hey presto, a very rocky friendship is born. He thinks she’s stuck up and christens her ‘Duchess,’ and she thinks that e has no sense of humour. How these two never got together on screen I have no idea… they’re the perfect match!

On the whole, I enjoyed “The War Machines” a great deal. Some of it has dated very badly, for example the Doctor ‘testing’ WOTAN by asking him to work out the square root of a massive number; a modern calculator could do it in seconds! There’s also some cringe worthy stuff, like WOTAN addressing the Doctor as ‘Doctor Who’ (perhaps he picked up some of those ‘Doctor Who Discovers…’ books а la “The Kingmaker”!) and the Doctor frequenting a nightclub, but on the whole “The War Machines” entertains throughout. After a very varied season in terms of quality, this story represents a definite step in the right direction for Doctor Who.

Moreover, from watching the VHS release of the story I couldn’t tell that there were still several minutes of footage missing; the Restoration Team did an absolutely first class job in restoring this one. The DVD-style bonus ‘Blue Peter’ clip was also a nice little touch, though it made ‘Totally Doctor Who’ seem positively grown-up!

Our knowledge of the Aztecs dates from CortezпїЅs landing, and so in choosing to set his story before then John Lucarotti sails into murky waters. The Aztecs brushes the surface of the period, name checking all the famous bits you learned about at school (human sacrifice, lack of the wheel, cocoa), pairing off each member of the regular cast with one well-known facet of Aztec society. Lucarotti is a writer of such awesome talent though that he takes these broad sweeps and turns them into much more, and the result is that the viewer becomes totally immersed in the period.

The opening scene bears all the hallmarks of the early William Hartnell episodes, with a leisurely exploration of the new location and a lecture from the science / history teacher (delete as applicable). ItпїЅs likeable, as scenes featuring Jacqueline Hill invariably are, but the obvious pattern that it follows in the context of the era as a whole makes it slightly hard to get into; thereпїЅs a definite feeling that Lucarotti is more comfortable with the freewheeling quasi-Elizabethan dialogue he gives to the Aztecs (for some reason) than with the mundane, everyday speech of the regulars. All this matters little as soon as the Doctor and Ian emerge from the TARDIS, the mighty Williams Hartnell and Russell forming пїЅ along with Hill пїЅ possibly the best ever Doctor / Companion grouping.

Initially the hidden doorway points to a swashbuckling serial of high adventure, and AutlocпїЅs arrival makes for a pleasing contrast to expectations as Keith Pyott gently underplays his poetic lines. This is in stark contrast to John RinghamпїЅs manic, almost cartoon-like portrayal of Tlotoxl, which works because for all its energy it never descends into a send-up. Ringham has stated in interviews that his performance owes a heavy debt to Richard III, as if we needed that pointed out, and on the whole The Aztecs smacks of a proto-Post-modern version of Shakespeare throughout. ThereпїЅs also some incidental amusement to be had in seeing the rest of the cast doing verbal backflips in their tortuous attempts at pronouncing the characterпїЅs name. ThereпїЅs a great moment of direction when heпїЅs first introduced, as the camera sweeps sideways following the regulars, only to reverse direction and bring him suddenly and shockingly into view; I single that out as for the most part John CrockettпїЅs direction is fairly leaden and it feels very much like he comes from a theatrical background, as characters tend to face the camera rather than each other as they speak.

ItпїЅs strange that Autloc suggests that the human sacrifices should end long before Barbara shows any influence on him; in a way it negates his character as it means that the development thatпїЅs written for him doesnпїЅt actually exist. Yet in some ways it expresses the brilliance of the story in that something so simple at its heart becomes, over the course of the four episodes, something so magnificently rich all the same.

If thereпїЅs criticism of The Aztecs, very often it takes the form of пїЅpeople only like it because Marco Polo and The Massacre are missing.пїЅ I consider the suggestion that somehow thereпїЅs a block on judging this story by its own standards rather absurd, and for the record I saw this long before I had any knowledge of LucarottiпїЅs other work пїЅ I loved it then, and I love it now. But I will acknowledge that Marco Polo is the superior story, and I can only wish that Waris Hussein had helmed this instead of John Crockett since the studio-recorded fight scenes are laughable; the lack of editing facilities mean that thereпїЅs no attempt at hiding the fact that the actors are desperately trying not to break their balsa wood clubs.

Margot van der Burgh is charming as Cameca and her scenes with Hartnell are a joy, all taking place in Barry NewberyпїЅs excellent garden set. ThereпїЅs been criticism here too of the Doctor getting too involved himself while warning Barbara not to, but thatпїЅs a key part of the first seasonпїЅs character arc: the Doctor blunders in and causes trouble because he doesnпїЅt apply the rules to himself. This is the episode where he gets the shock to his system that snaps him out of it: both in hurting Cameca, and in seeing BarbaraпїЅs failure. That the regulars actually get involved is one of the storyпїЅs great features, as many other historicals (particularly the otherwise-excellent The Crusade) are slightly let down by the way the regulars become little more than audience members who have wandered in front of the cameras. In The Aztecs, part of the subtlety and richness that we see comes from Lucarotti using the necessarily limited portrayal of the period to show us the regulars as much as the Aztecs themselves. From BarbaraпїЅs point of view the idea of changing history isnпїЅt important; in this story itпїЅs the desire to change it that matters, and I think that makes it all the more interesting. It certainly leads to the extraordinary confrontation between the Doctor and Barbara, possibly one of the best scenes ever. The DoctorпїЅs assertion of пїЅbelieve me, I knowпїЅ is an early hint at the darkness of his past.

ThereпїЅs a real sense of culture shock in this story, which really tries to deal with the reality of how someone would react if they were transported back four hundred years. Barbara reacts to it reasonably well in the end and has a good moment answering TlotoxlпїЅs questions, and пїЅwhat if thieves walk among the Gods?пїЅ is a great line.

HereпїЅs where the episodeпїЅs credibility takes a massive blow though, as it turns out all of a sudden that mild-mannered science teacher Ian happens to be a martial arts expert. This is one of the hugest contrivances of all time, and while the fact that itпїЅs only ever mentioned in this episode means that it doesnпїЅt come across as quite so huge it does make it even less plausible. Thanks to William Russell itпїЅs still oddly likeable, but IanпїЅs line of пїЅI wonпїЅt kill you this timeпїЅ пїЅ to the Aztec warrior chief, no less пїЅ is funny for all the wrong reasons and docks this episode, in isolation, several points. However, it does herald the beginning of a more focussed plot as Tlotoxl and Ixta begin to scheme together.

Frequently in this story conversations are overheard, characters go off with each other for clandestine asides, and overly-convenient family connections emerge (Ixta being the temple-builderпїЅs son) that really highlight the episodeпїЅs Shakespearian roots. Broadcasting its influences so blatantly gives The Aztecs more of a sense of fun than other episodes, and the nightmare that faces Barbara seems all the more disturbing as a consequence. The two disparate elements of pastiche and serious drama hang together though, largely because of the reverence with which itпїЅs all treated. The exception is CamecaпїЅs ridiculous line of пїЅin bliss is quenched my thirsty heartпїЅ, which takes the episode temporarily far beyond the realms of parody.

Episode twoпїЅs battle between Ian and Ixta has a certain climatic feel to it, and episode three has a very пїЅsecond halfпїЅ feel with new elements added to the plot, such as the impending eclipse and SusanпїЅs arranged marriage to the Perfect Victim. Equally the characters gain some new material, as Ian explains to Barbara that sheпїЅs seeing Tlotoxl as the unusual one when really he isnпїЅt. ItпїЅs followed by another fantastically enjoyable scene as Tlotoxl and Tonila try to make Barbara drink poisoned wine. The third episode nicely combines all the different elements of the story: the tunnel into the temple gives us the high adventure the beginning suggested, while the DoctorпїЅs accidental engagement to Cameca lightens the tone; meanwhile, AutlocпїЅs shocked question to Barbara that пїЅyou would sacrifice us to save your handmaiden pain?пїЅ never lets us forget the awful situation she has made for herself. This episode also gives us the first real cliffhanger, as the others seem more like story breaks with something dramatic added on as an afterthought to make up the requirements.

Episode four (or should that be Act IV?) shows just how useless the regularsпїЅ well-intentioned plans are as they are forced to simply abandon their mistakes rather than to try to make amends for them and risk further damage, and AutlocпїЅs line of пїЅwe are a doomed peopleпїЅ really shows the implications of non-interference. The plot to frame Ian for the attack on Autloc shows up TlotoxlпїЅs human motivations as well as his religious ones, which dampen his character slightly as they make him an ordinary villain, rather than someone who just happens to be convinced that their beliefs are true. However, he does have one more fantastic speech, talking about how he wants to seal пїЅthe false YetaxaпїЅ in a room without doors.

I gather the final battle (helped by being film-recorded) is supposed to be climax, but for me the more significant scene is the utterly sublime coda between the Doctor and Barbara. I can only imagine with horror how this scene would be played these days, with the two of them crying in each othersпїЅ arms while Murray Gold drenches the scene in stringsпїЅhere we have a quiet, understated exchange: пїЅWe failed, didnпїЅt we?пїЅ пїЅYes we did. We had to.пїЅ And not forgetting the final message, пїЅyou failed to save a civilisation, but at least you helped one man.пїЅ And as if that wasnпїЅt enough, look at the DoctorпїЅs final moments: he sadly leaves behind his memento of Cameca, and then at the last minute changes his mind and goes back for it. IпїЅm normally a cynical old duffer about this sort of thing, but something about how understated it is makes me all warm inside.

ItпїЅs a shame that The Aztecs has developed a reputation as being a poor manпїЅs Marco Polo, and I feel that if LucarottiпїЅs other episodes were found it might become more popular as people would stop these incessant and spurious comparisons. As it is, taken on its own terms, The Aztecs is utterly gorgeous and IпїЅm eternally glad that it survives.

IпїЅve liked this story since I first saw it. I like the premise, with Barbara attempting to change history and failing. I like the unusual choice of setting (for Doctor Who) of Mexico at the time of the Aztecs. The characters are strong, and generally well acted, though Ixta seems not so good. All in all, this story is a compelling dramatic examination of one womanпїЅs attempt to influence a culture, which if you strip away the time travel elements, would work equally as well in other genres. 

This story is an excellent character vehicle for Barbara and possibly her best story, though she has a fair showing in пїЅThe CrusadeпїЅ as well. As a history teacher, sheпїЅs in her element here. SheпїЅs living the history she enjoys, and more to the point, has been put in a position of power and influence, which presents her with an opportunity. Much like Rose in пїЅFatherпїЅs DayпїЅ, itпїЅs an opportunity she canпїЅt resist taking advantage of, despite the consequences.

Barbara is shown to be rather broad-minded here. While she recognizes the practice of human sacrifice for the evil that it is, she also sees the good cultural aspects of the Aztecs, and her desire to save them from themselves is rather noble, if quixotic. As in the real world that sort of action can only be taken so far, as people will act on what they believe, and beliefs are a difficult thing to change sometimes, particularly societal beliefs. Barbara focuses in on Tlotoxl as the aberration, thinking that the majority of the Aztec people will come over to her way of thinking, when in reality, as Ian points out to her, Autloc is the exception to the rule and Tlotoxl represents the mindset of the majority. Barbara is struggling against a culture as well as the weight of history, and her failure is inevitable. She is permitted by the writer to come out of the situation with a small victory, that of changing the thinking of Autloc. Apart from that, all her actions really accomplish is to put the four TARDIS crew members in grave danger from which they struggle to escape.

The attempt to survive in Aztec society forces some hard choices on the Doctor, Ian and Susan, even before Tlotoxl turns on Barbara. Ian recognizes the mindset of the priests early on, and overrides the DoctorпїЅs objections when Tlotoxl suggests that Ian train to command the armies. To be accepted by the Aztecs and to remain relatively safe, he must act as they would expect him to act, which includes escorting the human sacrifice victim to the altar. The Doctor catches on to this need to conform as well, but Susan cannot bring herself to keep her mouth shut and play for time. Barbara of course attempts to use her position as a god to change the Aztec way of life, but when she does not behave as Tlotoxl expects an Aztec god to behave, he does not change, but instead loses faith in her. There is a running tension throughout the story as Barbara, Ian and the Doctor try to outmaneuver Tlotoxl and get back to the TARDIS before he can break the peopleпїЅs faith in Barbara and have them killed.

There are four main Aztec characters that we get to know, discounting Tonilla who is pretty much a toady. There are the two priests, Tlotoxl and Autloc, who are of course a study in contrasts. When presented with new ideas, Autloc bends and Tlotoxl does not. One of my favorite lines is AutlocпїЅs pragmatic reasoning about BarbaraпїЅs attempt to stop the sacrifice, which runs contrary to his beliefs. пїЅWe send messengers to the gods. Why should they not send one to us?пїЅ Autloc is a thoughtful and sympathetic character. Tlotoxl is a man who believes strongly in his religion, who also has a love of power judging by some of his conversations with Tonilla. Barbara is a threat to his way of life and his beliefs, and must be destroyed. While somewhat understandable, Tlotoxl forfeits any sympathy by being not only пїЅthe local butcherпїЅ, but also a liar and a cruel man, as demonstrated several times, the most notable being his arranged attack on Autloc in an attempt to frame Ian.

The other two Aztec characters apart from the priests are Ixta and Cameca. Ixta is essentially a big dumb bullying fighter. He tries to be a times both friendly or cunning, but it never comes across as genuine. He takes pride in having survived all challengers to lead the Aztec armies. And while Tlotoxl is motivated by his religious beliefs, Ixta never seems particularly devout. Indeed, he boasts that he will be known as the warrior who killed пїЅthe chosen servant of YetaxaпїЅ, not even allowing the gods to stop his ascension to command. Pride is in many ways Ixtas downfall, and itпїЅs perhaps fitting that Ian is forced to kill him in self-defense, after Ixta boasted that he would kill Ian.

Cameca is a wholly sympathetic and likeable character, and notable for her accidental engagement to the Doctor, which just cracks me up every time I watch this story. HartnellпїЅs expression in that scene is priceless. While the Doctor certainly treats Cameca with respect and a certain degree of familiarity, and seems quite genuinely to enjoy her company, I never get the impression that sheпїЅs a love interest for him. The reverse is certainly true, and Cameca seems taken with the Doctor, but itпїЅs not a case of the Doctor looking for romance. SheпїЅs simply a kindred spirit in many ways, and their scenes together are enjoyable to watch. The Doctor so rarely makes friends where he travels as relationships of that sort are normally left to the companions, but weпїЅre in the early days of Doctor Who here before such conventions became established.

The production values are varied. The painted backdrops are obviously that, but they work well enough to allow for suspension of disbelief. The Aztec weapons seem very light when being wielded in battle. And certain fight scenes arenпїЅt staged very well, particularly Ixta versus the Aztec soldier (who never gets any face time oddly!) when Ian first enters the barracks. But the interior and garden sets look solid enough, as does the temple on top of the pyramid. Like so many early Doctor Whos, the whole thing has a theater feel to it, and works on that level. 

All in all, this is a successful story that derives its drama quite naturally by placing our main characters in a culture with values that clash horribly with our own, and each of them try to adapt or confront those values in their own way. This story wouldnпїЅt have worked earlier in the series run, but by placing it at a time when the relationships between the TARDIS crew have matured a bit, we get to see them play off each other and work together. Combine good storylines for the regulars with a strong moral dilemma and some well-acted and well-motivated Aztec characters, and you end up with a superb story. I have a hard time giving perfect marks, but apart from some stagy fights and production issues, I can find little fault with the Aztecs. 9.5 out of 10.

I am anything but an expert on the Hartnell years, and I'll admit I approached this story with some hesitation, having recently been (very) disappointed by the dishwater-dull 'Dalek Invasion of Earth.' But I was actually pleasantly surprised (and sometimes delighted) by 'The Daleks' – it's a stylish and moody piece of television, full of memorable moments and challenging ideas. As a product of its time, it's undeniably pokey, of course, and will seem a bit padded to the uninitiated (the 'bacon and eggs' scene, e.g., is one I could have done without). Probably its biggest problem, of course, is the abrupt conclusion, where, as in the next Dalek story, the fearsome cyborg monstrosities are ultimately defeated by three or four unarmed men rushing up to them and pushing them over. It's a serious disappointment, but it can't undo the many successes of the story, and overall 'The Daleks' is consistently entertaining, a fitting debut for the Doctor's legendary enemies. 

One of the best things the story does from the very outset is to convey Ian and Barbara's continuing shock at what has happened to them, and their doubts about whether the Doctor can actually get them home at all. William Russell and Jacqueline Hill play their anger and fear quite convincingly in the opening scenes, and truly, the series might not depict the disorienting shock of space and time travel so well again until the Ninth Doctor picks up Rose, more than forty years later. (And, as with Rose, the characters of Ian and Barbara are used as a lens through which we see not only the reality of time travel, but the strange and alien Doctor as well.)

Once the story gets going, there are many moments that stand out as genuine classics, of course. Such examples as the mutant's claw creeping out from under the blanket and the first cliffhanger with Barbara are rightly singled out by fans, but for me the most seminal moment is the exchange after the Daleks reveal their plan to wipe out the Thals. When the Doctor incredulously fumes "That's sheer murder!" and the Dalek responds: "NO – EXTERMINATION," it's a chilling moment that spins out over the course of this series – we see how clearly different the Daleks' worldview is from the Doctor's (and ours), but we also see his mind working, and understand how his first encounter with his oldest enemies helped form the righteous indignation that would guide the character through the rest of this series. As for William Hartnell's performance itself, he stumbles once or twice in Episode One, but in general he's in terrific form. The First Doctor here is a fascinating character study – he's admittedly old and tired (Susan even apologizes to Ian and Barbara for his forgetfulness), but he also shows a surprising energy, driven, it seems, by his intellectual curiosity. He's hardly a superhero, or even much of a hero at all: indeed, he's selfish and scheming when tricking the TARDIS crew into accompanying him to the mysterious city, and harsh and cold when suggesting he'll leave Ian and Barbara on Skaro, or insisting that they use the Thals as cannon fodder for the Daleks so they can escape. But, as I said, he's increasingly moral and humane too, and of course he's quite funny in such scenes as his argument with Ian in Episode One.

As for Ian, the treatment of his character is rather dated - he comes off as a bit bossy, and more than a bit sexist, when he refuses to believe either woman alone could (or should?) be trusted with the drug-retrieving mission in Episode Two, or when he sends Barbara and Susan out of the room so that the men-folk can deal with the Dalek mutant. (Gee whiz, Dad . . . .) But Barbara comes off rather better, showing imagination and independence here, and acting as a great stand-in for the viewer when wandering alone in the frightening city in Episode One. Another writer once pointed out that a 'mature' female companion like Barbara wouldn't really be seen again in this series; it's true, and it's too bad. If only you could say the same thing for Susan, whose shrieking and sobbing here provide a sad precedent for many girl companions to come . . . .

As for the non-regular characters, Mark Campbell has notably criticized the treatment of the Thals, summing up 'The Daleks' as "a questionable morality tale whereby 'ugly = bad' and 'pretty = good,'" and it is a legitimate point. In particular, the way in which Susan and the rest of the TARDIS crew instinctively trust the Thals simply because they're well-formed physically is annoying. But in all fairness, there's more to the story's philosophy than that – after all, the beauty of the Thals is less linked with their 'goodness' than with their pacifism, which it should be remembered is *criticized* by the script (however respectfully). The individual Thals are rather blandly characterized, and the overtly philosophical dialogue is occasionally heavy-handed (Terry Nation seems more interested in giving them symbolic things to *do* than believable things to *say*). Still, one has to admire the seriousness with which the theme is approached – especially in the context of a fledgling children's TV show!

And then there is the presentation of the Daleks themselves, of course. The physical travel machines work well – the image of a Dalek is one so familiar to us that it's worth reminding ourselves how strange and alien Raymond Cusick's design actually is. In a series known for passing off stuntmen in rubber masks as aliens, it's wonderful to see such a convincingly alien concept - there's absolutely nothing recognizably human about a Dalek. It's astonishing that Sydney Newman responded so poorly to such an original idea, in fact. The dilating eye is particularly disturbing (one wonders, actually, why Russell T. Davies didn't return to it with the Eccleston series), the machines glide rather quickly and smoothly, and even small touches like the Daleks passing a sheet of paper from one sucker arm to another is surprisingly impressive. 

As for their characterization, at this point, Terry Nation had not yet developed the arsenal of Dalek dialogue 'chestnuts' that he and other writers would use (and overuse) through the years ("I OBEY," "STAY WHERE YOU ARE – DO NOT MOVE," etc.); nevertheless, the Daleks make a tremendous impact in their voice and speech here. They are harsh and intimidating, certainly, in such scenes as the one where they force Susan to write her note, but rather than simply screeching slogans as they do in later stories like the overrated 'Remembrance,' these Daleks actually *think* as well, and demonstrate much personality. They are paranoid, interrupting and challenging even each other, and jittery, as when the guard Dalek orders the prisoners to move away from the sides of the door. They also show much evidence of their cunning and scientific approach, spying on their prisoners and analyzing their conversations (they are not for an instant fooled by the silly 'fight' the TARDIS crew use to disconnect their camera). Significantly, their intellects are shown to be as impenetrable as their armor – even the Doctor can't outtalk them (when he tries to stall them by telling them about the TARDIS, they are interested, but have no doubt they'll be able to comprehend its technology themselves after his death). And they are resourceful problem-solvers too, quickly burning through the blocked door, and conducting immediate experiments to determine the effects of the Thal drugs (and, just as quickly, learning how to counter them). But perhaps the most surprising thing about their characterization here is how *sad* these Daleks are – for one of the most notable things the story does is expose the Big Lie of Dalek superiority. After all, the first thing the Daleks do with the Thals' anti-radiation drugs is try to *cure* themselves, to rid themselves of their 'Dalek-ness.' It is only when the drugs fail, and they are left with no other choice, that they rationalize their compromised form, and convince themselves that their weakness is in fact the key to ultimate strength.

Just about every other aesthetic element of the story satisfies. The Dalek city is beautifully designed, and looks all the scarier and more distorted for being in black and white. The whirlpool in Episode Five is very impressive for the time, and the script does a good job of sprinkling its thematic content throughout a 'Lord of the Rings'-esque quest adventure. Finally, the seemingly intentional double entendre "Now there's a double meaning for you" is a shockingly risquй line. I gasped when I heard it . . . and I'm not easily shocked.

One of my favourite Hartnell stories to watch. Not so much because it's an example of one of the best stories from his tenure. Moreso just because it's a fun little story. 

Of course, when I say "fun" I don't just mean from a sort of kitschy "wow was that an awful effect" point-of-view. It's also just a fun storyline. Very comic bookesque. Not a lot of substance - just a bunch of "running around and getting into all kinds of trouble and then trying to find a way out of it" -type adventuring for our TARDIS crew. The sort of story the series could never get away with nowadays but, since it was still "finding it's feet" back when "Keys" was produced, it could pull something like this off now and again. 

"The Keys Of Marinus" has some very strong flaws to it, of course. The most obvious one being that the story has nowhere near the budget it requires to be executed with any degree of effectiveness. Particularly since all-new sets had to be built every episode with the location of the storyline changing all the time. Really, I'm amazed the production team even gave this a green light considering how limited the budget was back then. But what this does spell out for this story is some incredibly preposterous-looking moments where the effects are just so poor that it's laughable (the "ceiling of spikes" descending toward Barbara being one of the more notorious moments that come to mind that exemplify this). But the poor budget also meant minimal re-take facilities too. We get some nice dialogue flubs now and again and some really great "tripping-over-their-own-flippers" moments with the Voords. Quite impressively, however, there are some very nice effects that pop now and again too. The model shots of the island, of course, are probably the best examples of this. 

But some of the silliness of this story doesn't just stem from the production values. Some of the writing, itself, is fairly hard to swallow. I mean, I can accept a growth acceleration formulae that affects nature's "tide of destruction" or what-have-you - but specific vines trying to wrap themselves around peoples' necks and legs because of such a formulae seems a bit too much on the implausible side. As are the frozen warriors. Shouldn't they just be dead when they get unfrozen? Of course, good little fans that we are, we decide that they must have special "cryogenic suits" on. But shouldn't that have been established somewhere in the dialogue too? 

But, if you can put aside these objections. You do get a very imaginative and creative little run-a-round. Those same frozen warriors I just mocked were also quite neat, in their own way. And the idea of an entire city being one giant illusion was really fun too - with some effects in there when we see things from Barbara's point-of-view that were genuinely chilling.

Really, all the different locations they travel to have some nice ideas at work within them. Which is one of the strong points, overall, of this story. We get a planet that seems as legitimately diverse as our own. Something that happens rarely in Who or any other sci-fi series, for that matter. Most of the time, a planet is a "desert planet" or an "ice planet" or something like that. In Marinus, we have various climate conditions and societies. Even races. Which certainly scores some points in the story's favour. The fact that we get fun little storylines in all these different locations enhances my enjoyment of this tale even more. 

Because this is such an early story, a couple of significant things happen in it that I think are valuable to the overall show too. First off, even though the series was labelled by the BBC, at the time, as being for children - there are some somewhat "mature" things that occur in it. Most noteworthy, of course, is the attempt to rape Barbara during the episode in the polar regions of Marinus. But we also get some wife beating and some somewhat vicious-looking knife stabbings. Something you'd never see on a modern-day kid's show! But these moments are significant because it sets an important tone. That the BBC might be pitching this as being for children but that the people making the show itself see it in a very different light. That, already, this is a T.V. series that the production team recognise as having an adult market too. And though they're careful on how some of these sequences are portrayed, those moments are still included in the story rather than just cut out entirely as they would've been had the BBC been keeping a better eye on things! 

The other thing we see for the first time in this story is a "softening" of the Doctor. Up until Marinus, he's a bit of an anti-hero, really. Developing some likeability in Marco Polo, but very little. But his somewhat heroic entrance in the city of Milllenius paints him in a much nicer light than we've seen him in so far. His trial scenes and moment of melancholia after he's lost his case improve his likeability factor even more. It helps that Hartnell's "break" seems to have refreshed him and he gives a very strong performance in these episodes too. Slowly but surely, the Doctor is turning into the hero he would be as the series progressed. But we see some of those first signs here on Marinus. 

So, overall, there are some very definite moments in this story both in production value and writing that give it a bit of a "Plan 9 From Outer Space" kind of feel now and again. Something we Who fans definitely hate to see in the series (even though it happens all-too-frequently!). But those moments, I think, become forgivable as we also get a very imaginative little romp across a troubled planet full of intrigue and danger! I even like how, like the quest for the Key to Time in later years, the quest for the Keys Of Marinus also comes to naught. And we get one of those nice "some things are far too powerful for man to possess" moments as the story concludes. I always loved the way the series handled that kind of theme and it's neat to see that, even this early on, the Doctor's moral tone is getting very clearly defined. That, as heroic as he may be, he knows that even his sense of rightness has its limits and that he has no desire to ever "play god". 

Fun stuff. Not necessarily great stuff, of course. But still lots of fun!

The Edge of Destruction is probably as important as An Unearthly Child and the Daleks. The first story introduced to the characters and set the perimeters of the show, the Daleks continued the relationship and introduced the most loved monster. The Edge of Destruction meanwhile builds upon the relationship and solidifies it for future stories.

Although the plot is a bit daft with a spring being the cause of all the troubles, it is how the story is told by David Whitaker that helps cover up the plot. 

The best part of the whole story is in the last few minutes where the Doctor apologises to Barbara and says ‘says we learn about each other, so we learn about ourselves’ The relationship immediately changes with one line and really defines Hartnell’s Doctor.

Barbara too develops in this story and shows her intelligence and determination to escape the situation. She has changed so much since the screaming, frightened women in the cave of skulls and on Skaro.

Although Susan acts oddly – especially with the scissors, Carole Anne Ford does play her wonderfully, although still like a young child and not as the women she would later develop into.

Ian too develops and Russell plays him with his usual style and willingness to fight against the Doctor if he thinks he is right.

This story is unique in the way it is told and is therefore special in the show’s history. It ranks as one of the best Hartnell stories and certainly helps in the development of the program. 8/10