Black Orchid. Is that the coolest title of them all or what? I know the flower in question was only jammed into the story so as to provide said title, but even so it’s got such a great ring to it.

Anyway…

Small scale, time-out stories can be very effective when done right; stories with simple plots have the advantage of not requiring any clumsy exposition. When they’re done wrong they can be terrible, like Boom Town, but occasionally one comes along that has the subliminal effect of making the viewer snuggle into the sofa rather than hide behind it. Black Orchid is such a story, and aside from a few minor quibbles I love it to pieces.

A major criticism this story receives is that its status as a whodunit is demolished by us seeing the criminal every step of the way (okay so we don’t see his face, but we see who it isn’t). This would be a fair point were it not for one simple fact: this isn’t a whodunit. Terence Dudley was a professional writer and I’m sure such matters probably crossed his mind while he was writing it; he has produced instead a blood-relative to the whodunit, a story where the hero, whom the audience knows to be innocent, has to prove that innocence before he gets banged up for a crime he didn’t commit. Such stories can be very good and dramatic in a time’s-running-out way, and often stand up to repeated viewings better than mysteries that have little going for them once the truth is known.

The story opens with a servant being strangled; for such a gentle story this is a very dramatic opening, even if it is a dream sequence and even if we don’t see either murderer or victim above the knee. After this start though it winds down, and opens properly with some excellent location footage of a 1920s railway station. In terms of period detail Black Orchid scores very highly, especially the fantastic studio set of the main hall. Historically-set stories almost always look great in the location scenes, but such quality in studio wasn’t beaten until Ghost Light seven years later (not that there were a great deal of period pieces in that time, however).

The opening TARDIS scene, a bane of the early Davisons where the three inexperienced companions uneasily struggled to act like they had chemistry, is better than most and is over quite quickly (which might be why, now I come to think of it). Upon emerging from the ship, the story’s gentle pace allows for some great dialogue that enriches the atmosphere rather than coldly advancing the plot. However, the cricket match goes on a bit too long – it all seems a bit indulgent, although it is unusual to see upper class people on TV (it’s now shockingly politically incorrect to portray people who live above the poverty line), and some of the dialogue (“ripping performance, old boy!”) is a bit sickly for my tastes. I should point out the scene where Davison bowls out that extra, which competes with the birth of his children to be the Proudest Moment Of His Life, but really I’m just frustrated that it goes on far too long. It shows up the story’s biggest weakness: it is poorly paced. The main dramatic arm of the plot, the Doctor’s murder accusation, doesn’t happen until the second episode which means that the first episode contains nothing of note in terms of the narrative. While this allows for some great characterisation, a chance to develop the ambience and the occasional good witticism (it’s a very smoothly written episode), it does mean that there is an awful lot of padding for such a short story; perhaps it could have done with a bit more exposition in this first instalment. Having just praised the writing, the “Master” line is another indulgence that is only just carried off and the “Doctor Who?” routine is dragged out yet again like the gimp in Pulp Fiction being released from his cellar. Spotters of goofs can look out for the moment when Barbara Murray (playing Lady Cranleigh) backs into a painting in the scene where Nyssa and Ann are introduced to each other.

Nyssa’s doppelganger contrasts with the realistic tone of the story (not counting stock elements like the TARDIS, obviously), driving it into the realm of magic realism; the presence of Latoni the Brazilian tribesman is also incongruous as his presence there is not explained until right at the end.

Adric gets a small, neglected role in this story and if it were anyone else (with the possible exception of Mel) I’d say that was a bad thing. Tegan’s ‘Charleston’ routine is annoying (mainly because Janet Fielding, although she would improve later, grates horribly at this stage), and the idea that she should be rehearsing it only to do it for real in a few minutes is silly and contrived. Sarah Sutton’s acting as Ann is also poor; her very serious, somewhat staid acting style just about passes for the ultra-prim Nyssa, but when it comes to a character who is occasionally called on to express emotions from time to time she seems very forced and artificial. She also struggles to make her physical tasks look natural: note the scene in the second episode where she runs from the bedroom in tears, as she can be seen clearly and deliberately pushing the chair over as she runs past rather than knocking it.

Roger Limb’s electronic score, while not terrible in itself, doesn’t sit well with a period setting (a problem throughout the 1980s), but this isn’t a problem for the masque scenes where there are authentic period songs playing. One thing I’ve always wondered though is that since this is set in the 1920s nobody has the Australian pegged as a criminal. 

The Doctor’s gothic pastiche of secret corridors and hidden bodies is given remarkably little emphasis, and the cliffhanger really does suffer from the story not being a whodunit; it comes at the point between the two sections of the story, after the plot-light beginning but before the dramatic ending, and the fact that someone who is not the Doctor is trying to murder someone who is not Nyssa lacks the kind of impact I imagine it was intended to have. Afterwards though Ann makes her accusation and much as I enjoyed the opening I am glad it’s finally started to get moving. It is a gripping scene, spoiled only by the Doctor’s “I am a Time Lord, I have a time machine” routine that is inappropriate to the story.

Calling Nyssa, Tegan and Adric accessories to murder is an attempt to inject more tension that misfires as it makes absolutely no sense and is never subsequently mentioned. The TARDIS being moved from the railway station is padding, and it being revealed to anyone who wants to see is also annoying (after all, it was the Doctor’s fear of being discovered that began the series in 1963) but it’s the smug, self-congratulatory presentation of the scene that galls me rather than the actual content itself. 

The disfigured George (an excellent and disturbing piece of makeup) breaks out of his room by burning down the door – an impressive piece of pyrotechnics for a studio scene and a similarly good stunt as he crashes through the flames. It also creates a very logical and uncontrived resolution, whereas in a lesser story everyone would simply run to the rooftops for want of somewhere better to go. George’s backstory is similarly good, an appropriate scene of exposition which differs from others by not involving two characters who know the plot explaining it to each other anyway for the benefit of the viewers.

The confrontation on the roof is very good and dramatic. George Cranleigh is a sad and tragic figure, played surprisingly sympathetically by Gareth Milne. Only his final death is disappointing (despite being another good stunt), as it is difficult to believe why Lord Cranleigh would suddenly dart forward to embrace his crazed, insane brother while he is perched on the edge of a rooftop. The final scene is excellent though: in an extraordinarily touching and enigmatic finale (in a way I can’t quite put my finger on) the Doctor is given a copy of George’s book Black Orchid – but the author’s photograph is not of George but of his brother. Maybe it’s just me, but I think it’s a very poignant ending.

Black Orchid is a pleasant little story spoiled only by small problems such as its poor pacing. Even so it is a refreshing break from John Nathan-Turner’s and Eric Saward’s usual production style, that got back on full swing in the next episode. It got it right where the other Davison two-parters got it wrong: it aims low, and consequently scores high.

I’ve reviewed a couple films and CDs here and there on the internet, but not like I intend to endeavor to do for Dr. Who’s “27th” season. Certainly these episodes are already reviewed more than the “classic” series, but having been such a fan of the classic series, I wanted to show both my enthusiasm in the new series while being mindful and respectful of the old. Also, as I am an American (for shame!) I thought it might benefit or tickle a few people who enjoy reading reviews, as I do. I’ve read a few various reviews, then latched on to Paul Clarke’s reviews, since he seems to be the only chap to have reviewed ALL the episodes, and I like his writing and more or less (but not always) agree with his views.

This self-introduction notwithstanding, I intend to keep my reviews relatively short. I’ll assume someone reading my review isn’t looking for the plot to be revealed, I won’t present my reviews to reveal every moment of the story. Instead, based on the notes I jotted down (something I NEVER did before) while watching the season for the second time, I’ll take a critical approach of the things that bothered me, like incontinuity or lack of logic, and pose them as questions as if perhaps I simply missed something and maybe a viewed (or maker) or the show knows the answer, or else has to say “oops!” I just don’t want to lavish praise on the show and expect that to be a great read.

I’ll get it out of the way now: the new series is wonderful! I applaud Davies for bringing it back, am glad everyone’s heart appears to be in it and am relived it went over well in England (whether it will see the light of day in America is another issue). The stories are (mostly) complex and interesting, the introduction and theme is faithful, the performances are solid, convincing, and more than ever before, highly emotional and believable, and the effects - well, this isn’t your father’s Doctor Who. The show benefits greatly by the new look (production-wise) and, for the first time, not drawing attention to itself through the notoriously bad sets, props, costumes and effects used in the show so often pointed out by non-fans. Of course, we fans have totally suspended our disbelief, care for the characters, and find charm in the cheapness and camp of the show, as we wallow in the pure fantasy and imaginative escapism of the show while chuckling at the tongue-in-cheek wit often on display and the general fun everyone seems to be having on-screen.

Okay okay, so where’s my review of "Rose"? It is coming very soon. Let me wrap up my opening monologue by stating a few things I didn’t find so wonderful: Despite the new effects, one must keep in mind that these effects are within the realm of most studios worldwide with half a budget and a computer, so although they are a huge leap from the show’s past, they are not necessarily the best in the industry or breaking new ground. After all, when we can spot an obvious (albeit “awesome”) CGI animated monster, is that nothing more that a modern-day version of spotting, in their days, obvious (albeit “cool/groovy/smashing/wicked”) puppets, models, costumes or stop-motion clay/animation? The show’s music is the best since the Hinchcliffe era (a composer am I myself) especially after the WORST of the McCoy era, though there are a couple cringy spots of cheesy orchestra hits and, as one put it “jiggy-jiggy” music. The fast cutting and 21st century-savvy awareness is a bit jarring (like the repeated mention or inclusion of gays, now that we are sensitive of them and accepting of them, seems odd given that there have been gays throughout history unmentioned in the show previously, despite the high degree of camp going on then). The character threads throughout the season, especially with Rose’s mother and boyfriend, are a nice touch, but steal screen time on characters the old series would have said goodbye with and moved on. I mention screen time, because aside from the three virtual 2-parters, the show’s format of 45 minutes (as the whole story, not just one of four episodes in a story) really does jeopardize the ability to develop characters (beyond those reappearing throughout the season), plot twists or intrigue, or any of the epic feel generated by some of the old 6+ parters (or, heck, even the 4-parters). I guess this effectively helps eliminate senseless padding and routine captures and recaptures of the old series, and the fast editing, though annoyingly modern, does serve to keep the story moving along in the shorter format.

Okay, so now for “Rose”. Overall, it is in retrospect one of the weakest episodes of the season, but given it is is reintroducing a new companion (Rose Tyler is wonderful and easily one of the best assistants AND actresses of the show on par with Sarah Jane Smith), a new Doctor (the best since Davison, and among the more sensibly dressed, well acted and “usually” charmingly eccentric), an old enemy, and heck, a brand new series. So, in concurrence with other reviews, I forgive the episode those shortcomings. Oh dear - I can go on and on. I SWEAR my other reviews will be shorter. I better get on to my “things to make you go ‘hmm...’”

1. Clive shows Rose only photos of Christopher Eccleston as The Doctor. I was expecting to see the others shown, not only as a nod to the show’s past, but to be logically consistent with continuity. After all, in Rose’s home The Doctor sees his face and reacts to it as his predecessors did after they saw it for the first time because they just regenerated. I find it hard to believe that, as we learn later, presumably just saw his race die along with the Daleks, forcing him to regenerate, that he would immediately spirit off to earth to deal with a minor threat without even taking a look in the mirror! Anyway, if he DID just regenerate, then HOW did he get to appear in those other photos? One could argue that these photos of “the past” are actually in Eccleston’s future (existing in novel form only perhaps), but then why isn’t Rose present in the photos also? It doesn’t make sense. All the earth-encounters the Doctor had that WE know were all different personifications, so why weren’t they represented? Perhaps Clive found them but discounted them thinking they were false leads on other individuals not knowing about regenerations. I shouldn’t have to make this many excuses for the show. I do it with love, in hopes that the producers are more careful in the future.

2. Why does the TARDIS materializing/dematerializing suddenly cause hair to blow? Is there a new unseen exhaust pipe venting off the solar winds of the space-time vortex? I know the interior has changed over the show’s history (remember Tom Baker’s wood panels?) and think the new look is okay, if a bit dirtied up, but suddenly the interior doors are the same as the exterior. Hmm...

3. Why does the Nestene consciousness show preference to mannequins? Is it their utility in being able to “walk” or to help their realization by allowing actors to portray them (they do look great, incidentally, and though not as creepy as in “Spearhead from Space,” they are more realistic as dummies)? They don’t fool humans to be real people. Mention is made of all plastic being susceptible (nod to “Terror of the Autons”) - including breast implants - but we never see this aside from the trash bin. Besides, the true Nestene form is not humanoid. What happened to the Nestene’s true squid-like form? Why is it a “face” in a CGI version of the molten metal Schwartzenegger is lowered into in Terminator 2?

4. What of the spheres that transported the Nestene consciousness to earth? When did it arrive? Is it a leftover from the 1970’s? Who helped “install” it?

5. Why doesn’t the Nestene consciousness (or the Doctor) seem to be aware of the previous two encounters involving attempted earth take-over and subsequent defeat during Pertwee’s tenure?

6. How do the Autons have guns? Originally they were manufactured in special factories, but here they are simply the extant mannequins being controlled telepathically, so the guns don’t make sense. Besides, are all mannequins made with plastic anyway? 

7. The sonic screwdriver reappears since “The Visitation” - any reason except for unexplained nostalgia?

All in all a great show, but I think somebody should (preferably Davies or his script-writers or continuity consultants - if there are any - as were hired for Star Trek TNG) to make the show the BEST it can be. I mean, addressing/fixing/explaining these issues is the EASY part, the hard part (resurrecting and realizing and producing the series) is over. Davies said that this is the SAME Doctor we’ve seen before fighting the Drahvins, etc., so more attention should be paid to continuity.

Well, World War III wasn't bad, but it would've looked alot better had Mark Gatiss's fantastic 'The Unquiet Dead' not been on a couple of weeks earlier. I think, from this evidence, that I prefer the Mark Gatiss style to that of Russell T Davies, and unless something unexpected happens next week I'll probably favor the Rob Shearman style too. But you've got to give Davies credit, he can write a witty, inventive and fast-paced script, and this episode was a lot of fun - but it really benefited from being watched twice. First time round I was silenced by vinegar soaked, exploding farting aliens (more on that weakness later) and what has to be the least secure military website ever (hey guys, anyone can control a ballistic missile! Even Mickey!), but on the second viewing I really enjoyed the throway one-liners and the light-hearted, surreal tone to it all. That's the key to enjoying this episode and 'Aliens of London', I think. Watching 'The Unquiet Dead', you could be in the mood for a realistic, well-acted Hinchcliffe/Holmes scary drama - and you'd be rewarded. But to really get your kicks from 'World War III' you had to take it as what it was- a light-hearted, entertaining run around bookended by an excellent, thoughtful closing sequence.

But what the heck, I'm a doctor who fan so I may as well list the negatives first. (Glass half empty, you say? Never!)

It was noted in reviews for the aliens of london that there was a notable credulity gap between the model slitheen and the cgi kind. (I guess they must have been talking about the preview for this episode). Well, there's no denying that there's a big difference between the slow, bouncing models and the sleek, speedy CGI beasts. Also, giving the slitheen saggy tits and a dog collar was a bit weird. But I actually enjoyed these new monsters; the contrast between their claws and baby faces was disconcerting and they were mostly used well, with the exception of the bit where Penelope Wilton's character ran back into the cabinet office for the protocols only to be confronted with a slitheen bobbling amiably towards her. But I do like a good monster run-around, and the direction made the chase scenes fast-paced and nervy - just like Rose and the auton attack Keith Boak proves he can handle action scenes well. You know what? This negative has turned into a positive. I must like this episode more than I'm letting on! Quick, think of something....

Farting. Actually, hold on, I didn't have a problem with that. I like a good running theme, and there was no cringeworthy 'I'm shaking my booty' moment in this episode. It made me laugh, too. Ahh, here's a good criticism... The element of realism, or lack of it. I mentioned earlier that this episode should be taken light-heartedly, but I think there's a certain level of realism you've got to aspire to in order to sustain the audiences interest, their tension and how much they care for the characters. I can accept the intact survival of a head-on missile hit, and the slightly dodgy UN politics involved, but it really spoilt the plot for me when Micky first of all only needed one, simple password to take control of the UKs missiles system (yes, because we dont have hackers, do we?) and then dealt with the intervention of another missile with a simple mouse click. Now thats a fun game for all the family. Type buffalo, and take control of our countries' entire weapons system!

Come to think of it, the revelation that the slitheen's one weakness was vinegar annoyed me, although it did allow for a great, inventive fact-gathering scene (narrows it down! narrows it down!) and the best line of the entire episode (''pickled onions...pickled eggs..." "You kiss this man?") but to be honest, it makes the cybermens' slightly gay allergy to gold look tough. It's bad enough being able to deal with an invasion of Cybermen by lobbing a bag of coins at their chest, but imagine a slitheen invasion! Quick, it's the slitheen army...Throw me the Sarson's malt!

But now I'm just getting petty. I've only got one further criticism... and that's the slightly smug, oooh thats clever use of ideas indicative of the worst excesses of a Russell T Davies Script. For me this was symbolised by the analogy of the slitheens' plans to the Iraq war (which will understandably pass right over American's heads, I might add). It was a clever idea, and we all like to give Tony Blair a bit of a bashing, but there are more subtle, effective ways of getting the analogy across without -shout-it -in-the-street-obvious lines like 'weapons of mass destruction that can be activated in 45 seconds' and 'I voted against that, you know'. Yes, we know, you're being satirical. Well done, get over it. Having said that, it gave my Conservative-supporting parents (yes, I know, I don't know why either) a good laugh.

Well, thats the bad stuff. But there was alot of good stuff too, not least the trademark Davies wit which, more than any episode so far, was out in force. There were many lines which -only really appreciated on a second viewing - left me on the floor. Like the aforementioned 'you kiss this man?', the lift escape, the 'thats not going to work, is it?' and my favorite moment of the whole episode - the doctor's realisation that the slitheen can't get in but they can't get out of the cabinet office - a moment made funnier by Eccleston's frozen, grinning mug and exhaled 'ah'. There's alot of character faults in Eccleston's portayal of the doctor, but his comic facial and one-liner ability is definately worthy of praise.

Talking of Eccleston's portrayal of the doctor, the excellent last five, or more accurately two, minutes of this episode were for me the most important of the whole series so far. Up to this point I've been disillusioned with Christopher Eccleston's portayal of the Doctor. I can sympathise with his attempts to make the character seem more alien, but in doing so I think he's lost touch with the core character of the Doctor - the person who you want to travel with, who you wish you had as a friend. It's all very well trying to make him a more complex, alien character, but in doing so - for example, his harsh rebuke to Rose in 'The Unquiet Dead' ('it's a different morality, get used to it or go home') and his bizzare, nasty treatment of Micky, who's spent the last year suspected of murder becuase of him and should at the very least get an apology from the Doctor, not a mean jibe - in doing so, I stopped liking him. And if there's one thing that's important about the Doctor's character - this character who represents good in an amoral universe, the ultimate hero - it's that youv'e got to like him. And, with the added annoyance of Eccleston's occasional unsettling pretentiousness (has there ever been a worse abuse of the word 'fantastic'?) I stopped liking the doctor. Thought he was a bit of a dick, in fact. But then I watched the last two minutes of this episode and , thanks to his newfound respectful and amiable treatment of mickey and the small but significant lie he tells to protect him (telling Rose Mickey couldn't come along so she wouldnt find out that Mickey doesnt think he could handle that sort of life), something finally clicked in Eccleston's portayal of the Doctor .The likable, dare I say it human touch is finally there, and I can now start warming to Eccleston's performance the way I have the last eight doctors.

Other plusses include the ingenious, and chilling motive behind the slitheens' brinkmanship - to reduce the earth to slag, and sell it off. As well as being a clever idea - a nice change from the normal invasion storyline - it was an unsettling thought to say the least. It reminded me of the chill that went through me when I first watched 'The Pirate Planet' and realised what the captain's planet had done to all the other worlds - literally drained them of life. In World War III I got a similar chill when the Doctor notes the genocide this would entail and the slitheen replies "bargain". There was also, in this episode, a high quality of acting from the trio of Billie Piper, Noel Clarke and Penelope Wilton. What seemed to be wooden (translation=bollocks) acting has now, in the case of Noel Clarke as Mickey, been revealed to be an effective portayal of a lovable but hapless guy, his moments with the doctor at the end and his tentative comforting of Jackie particularly worthy of note. Penelope Wilton was, as usual, excellent, but - while we're talking about her - is it me, or did every Doctor who fan watching almost certainly shout 'she's the next prime minister' in response to the Doctor's 'where have I heard that name?'. It must be all those years of realising that characters like 'Sir Giles Estram' were actually the master in disguise....

So I suppose when all's said and done I enjoyed, on repeat viewings at least, this episode quite alot. It's got alot going for it -it's funny, it's imaginative, it's got a great ending. But I suspect when we look back at this first series of new Doctor Who it won't be the Russel T Davies episodes like 'Aliens of London' and 'World War III' we deem to be 'classics' and 'gems' but the Mark Gatiss, Rob Shearman ones et al. But you know what? I'd watch this episode again anyday. And that's more than I can say for 'Timelash'.

Hardly a great Doctor Who story, ‘Planet of the Daleks’ does disappoint in several ways. Not only does it ignore the events of ‘Frontier in Space’ (apart from a few token references), it also resists plot in favor of a Flash Gordon runabout, and, worse, suffers at times from a cruelly slow pace (especially in the first two episodes). On top of this, the balloon escape is a complete joke. 

But having prepared myself for the worst when preparing to re-watch this story, I was surprised how much I actually enjoyed it. It’s quite generic, but not bad for all that – a basic Pertwee Who – and it has more things to like about it than not. First of all, the Spiridon jungle backdrop is fun. One of my favorite aspects of classic Who is its theatrical quality; the wobbly sets, the line flubs, the makeup and costumes – it all amounts to a semi-live performance ‘feel,’ one you’re hard-pressed to find on TV nowadays. In other words, yes, this ‘alien jungle planet’ is obviously a set – what of that? This is Doctor Who, right? And at least the production team has made this one look dense and difficult to get through, unlike so many Who caves that have perfect human-sized tunnels cut into them. And the fungus-spitting plants are great.

The presentation of the Daleks is another satisfying element. Oh, they look kind of shoddy, but they’re believably menacing as they quickly respond to problems (cutting through the door, producing their anti-gravity disc - this was of course before the days of ‘ELEVATE!’). As with the next Dalek story, ‘Death to the Daleks,’ they are depicted principally as scientists here, not the simple squawking tanks they would become in the post-Pertwee days. Their dialogue, although often a bit wordy, is delivered at a brisk pace, which I always feel makes them seem smarter.

Which brings us to the question of the voice artists. The combination of Michael Wisher and Roy Skelton as the Dalek voices is of course an extremely happy one, especially after the awful voices in the previous Dalek story. The success of any Dalek story depends somewhat on successful characterizations by the voice actors, and while Dalek fans don’t ever really get their ‘EXTERMINATE!’ fix here, Skelton at one point really lets ’er rip with his hysterical “LOCATE AND DESTROY! LOCATE AND DESTROY!! *LOCATE AND DESTROY*!!!” And Wisher’s “WAIT!” when the Dalek realizes who the ‘Spiridons’ really are is chilling, and made me jump.

The Dalek Supreme looks great (too bad about the lights, of course) and is generally well-used. There’s nothing all that supreme about many of ‘Supreme Daleks’ in the classic series: most seem to be mere low-level foremen, in fact. But this Supreme Council Dalek, arriving in state with its own attendant guard, gives the impression of a powerful establishment behind the small Dalek control group on Spiridon. Furthermore, when the Dalek Supreme turns and exterminates the Dalek group leader for incompetence, it emphasizes the authority and coldness of the Dalek command. Wisher and Skelton sell this scene beautifully, clearly trying to outdo one another with their rising inflections.

Roy Skelton is also good as the wheezing Spiridon Wester – amazingly likeable and resonant as a character, given his few scenes. He is touching in his moments with Jo (‘Goodbye’), and heroic, even tragic, when he sacrifices himself to sabotage the Daleks’ plague weapon. (This scene is particularly well handled: Wester’s peaceful face fading in as the Daleks shriek with horror - ‘WE CAN NEVER LEAVE HERE – NEVER! – NEVER! – NEVER!’ – is a classic Who moment from my childhood.)

As for the Thals, Taron and Vaber are certainly believable as the bickering astronauts. In particular, Bernard Horsfall really convinces as Taron – he is sympathetic and likeable . . . and yet we can also see why Vaber is so frustrated with his cautious leadership style. 

As for the Doctor and Jo, Jon Pertwee phones it in a bit, but he radiates (genuine?) contempt for the Dalek when they’re in the elevator together, which is nice. And Katy Manning is likeable as ever, and her low-key acting manages to keep her ‘love’ plotline from feeling too forced. 

All in all, ‘Planet of the Daleks’ shouldn’t win any prizes – it’s a routine Pertwee story, all right, but it’s more than worth a watch for some good moments.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Horror Of Fang Rock is surprisingly tricky territory really as despite its popularity it is often criticised for being too simple and shallow. This is a justified claim but it has not come about through sheer laziness on Terrance Dicks’s part; the story was a famously last-minute addition to the schedules and in any case Dicks does make a valiant effort to correct these problems. What we are left with in the end is possibly the ultimate base-under-siege story, where all the elements that made the genre so successful under the Patrick Troughton era are distilled to absolute purity.

Admittedly the opening special effect is lame but in general the story’s visuals are excellent, with some excellent models and particularly well designed sets on display. The lighthouse is flawlessly realised, with its curved doors, intricate background scenery and dark lighting. The CSO in the lamp-room is also excellent and allows me to make that rarest of claims: it’s not that noticeable.

The first episode has a fun trio of guest stars, the best being Colin Douglas as Reuben. The exchange between him and Ben over the relative merits of oil and fire in lighthouses should silence those who claim this has a poor script, and show how a small cast totalling five people can carry the episode. The episode begins with a good ol’ mystery of the kind I get into so much – and it’s sustained too, for most of the story.

Louise Jameson will never be called the most charismatic of the Doctor’s companions but Dicks’s dialogue is reliably good and the film sets of the rocks are terrific. The sound of the foghorn is well used as well, acting as incidental music (which is rather sparse while I’m on the subject, although not bad) and showing how adept Paddy Russell is at creating atmosphere. 

This story is notable for the Doctor’s commanding presence, as he swans around taking charge of every situation he is placed in; rarely does he wait for another actor to give him his cue properly and very often he speaks without looking at his subject. This was allegedly difficult for the other actors to deal with and threatens to take the character over the top in certain places, but for the most part the Doctor comes across well as a dynamic and authoritative character. For example, the discovery of Ben’s body is an excellent piece of acting, being a mixture of disgust and calmness. 

The crash of the yacht is a brilliant piece of modelwork, unjustifiably criticised (modelwork being a particular strength of season fifteen now that I think about it) and makes for an underrated cliffhanger. A handy effect of this is that we get some extra cast members; the combination of the small space to cram them in and their general agitation means that the painstakingly-created sense of claustrophobia really begins to bite at this stage. The extra cast are generally good with the exception of Annette Woollett as Adelaide, whose drippy characterisation is a bit too much to handle. 

It’s only spoiled by the sight of the Rutan; for one thing it look ridiculous (monsters being a particular weakness of season fifteen now that I think about it) and for another thing, what’s the point of showing it in episode two if you’re just going to hide it away again until the conclusion? All it does is spoil the sense of the unknown. I ranted a bit more about this at the time but I used my notepad to kill a mosquito and frankly the rest is silence, or at least illegible.

“Are you in charge here?” “No, but I’m full of ideas.” Okay, hand on heart, this little jewel (I think from Robert Holmes) is my favourite quotation from Doctor Who and one that I had the good fortune of being able to use in a social situation not too long ago (I so rarely get asked if I’m in charge of anything). Apart from being a witty retort, it happens to make the Doctor look like the coolest bloke to ever walk the Earth or anywhere else.

On the DVD commentary Dicks gets very sniffy about the Tom Baker’s acting when Ben’s mutilated body is discovered, but really I think it’s quite appropriate as they’ve all seen violent death before; admittedly Harker doesn’t get much in the way of back history so I’m basing my assumptions about his constitution on the preconception that salty sea-dogs can handle just about anything. On the subject of back history, I consider the financial shenanigans of Skinsale and Palmerdale to be a bit of a noble failure. They are an attempt to make the characters seem a bit less like monster-fodder but as they are so inherently pointless they betray themselves; it looks like nothing more than an unsuccessful effort which in turn makes the characters seem even more like monster-fodder. That said, it’s great dialogue and always a pleasure to listen to even if it does go nowhere.

After another decent cliffhanger episode three begins, and Adelaide really starts to yell. She was never the story’s most likeable character to begin with, and her constant histrionics start to send the story over the edge.

Meanwhile Reuben-Rutan is lurking in his room; the Rutan itself is presumably attaching a transmitter to the lighthouse, but it is never explained what some projection of Reuben is left behind. Suggestions on a postcard please. On the subject of climbing the lighthouse then this isn’t a bad effect at all but is let down by it’s comparison to other visuals which are absolutely brilliant.

Yes, well, Adelaide gets slapped. Look, there are enough crass remarks about this already without me adding more so I’ll move on to the wrecked telegraph, which due to not fulfilling any narrative function I can only assume is simply there to increase the claustrophobia, which is already maxed out anyway thereby making it somewhat redundant.

The cliffhanger is another good one; seriously, what have people got against them? Vince’s death at the beginning of part four is poignant as he’s such a likeable character in a kicked-puppy sort of way, and it leads to a good scene where Reuben comes stalking into the crew-room; Adelaide’s death is arguably the story’s most dramatic moment. The transformation effect is good, but as I said before the Rutan looks terrible. Also, the talk of Sontarans and intergalactic wars seems slightly incongruous on a lighthouse off the coast of Southampton in the 1900s. 

Skinsale bites the bullet; this is famously (I think) the only story to have a 100% mortality rate. Even Pyramids Of Mars had Achmed. It should be said though that this is due to the story’s small cast (there are no extras at all) and the body count is only eight people, which is significantly less than many other stories. This means that it is characters that get killed as opposed to faceless stuntmen, and their deaths are all the more shocking for it.

The effect of the Rutan mothership is another good one; like the transformation of Leela’s eyes, the resolution is contrived but cool. To wrap up, this is followed by one of the best endings ever as the Doctor quotes from the amazingly atmospheric poem ‘Flannen Isle’, making for an appropriate ending to a very creepy story.

“Classic” is that most elitist of terms that nevertheless gets chucked around far too much; while I’m going to give this story a maximum rating, I’m not going to make the claim that it’s up there with the truly top-tier stories like Pyramids Of Mars that really can be called classics. Nevertheless, this is one of the top ten season openers.