This, along with "Claws of Axos", is one of the most re-watched stories I pop into my VCR from Seasons 8 to 11! I know that makes little sense to the Pertwee fans since both those stories are considered two of the worst from those seasons, so I'll explain why:

Doctor Who in season seven was great stuff. Even some of the blatantly-padded seven-episode material was, overall, largely enjoyable. In fact, having such long stories really allowed the show to explore some neat directions that it would normally never have the time to go in (except, possibly, in the case of "Ambassadors of Death" which resorted a bit too much to endless captures and escapes). This was very creative and inventive Who. And I liked what Pertwee was doing with his character. 

But then, along came Season Eight. And with it, came what I feel is some of the most formulae-driven storytelling the show has ever produced. Some of these tales are so paint-by-numbers that you can start making bets on the predictability (ie: "Ten bucks says Mike Yates is going to walk into the scene in a second and say something cheeky" or "Twenty bucks says the last ten minutes of the story will be spent with UNIT fighting the aliens to little or no effect while the Doctor does something scientific to save the day"). 

So now, here's why I like these two supposed "clunkers". Although they don't stray too much from this formulae I'm bemoaning, they use it more effectively than most. 

While I won't go into "Claws of Axos" here, I will say that part of what makes "Monster" so effective is that it uses the concept of the "UNIT family" very comfortably. It knows we're familiar with Benton, Yates and the Brig and gives each of them a nice bit of attention without creating too great of a detriment to the plot. In fact, unlike a lot of other UNIT adventures where these characters just get a bunch superficial scenes glossed on to the story (ie: endless scenes of the Doctor stopping in at UNIT headquarters for a few minutes merely to have a quick little chat with Mike or Benton or get in an argument with the Brig and then roaring off again in Bessie) each character is given something functional to do. Some members of the family get more attention and functionalism than others. But that, to me, is actually good writing. Each member of UNIT getting perfectly equal screen time smacks a bit too much of cheesy American sitcom. I like that Mike is used somewhat sparingly while Benton is virtually the hero of the day (even if he does fall for the worst trick in the book!). 

Another strongpoint to this tale, I feel, is that it is a story that deals quite heavilly in the abstract. Though some of those abstracts are a tad gimmicky or not particularly well-explained. It is still nice to have something a bit more high-browed than the usual "evil aliens and/or homegrown baddies are here to take over the world" plotline that we get through most of these years. We don't understand much about Kronos but we can see that he's dangerous. That if he's released into our dimension, with or without the Master able to control him, he's going to make some trouble. The very fact that he's linked to Atlantis gives us a clue of his might. That, more than likely, he's the key reason the place was destroyed (even if Azal boasted the way he did about it just a season ago!). Like the Mandrigora Helix a few seasons later, I like a good conceptual monster. One that doesn't just sneak up behind you and maul you to death with claws and teeth or lasers it can shoot from its horns. But rather, does something wierd and abstract to you that ends up terminating or, at least, ruining your life. And Kronos, overall, is well-achieved in that respect. Even the visual aspects of him/her aren't all that horrible as far as I'm concerned. In fact, I felt that the production team knew that they only had so good of a budget to realise the creature and were smart to shoot it the way they did with overexposure and tight angles. Yes, it still looks cheap. But "Who" was a cheap show back then. I'm sure the new series would realise Kronos with some amazing CGI. But they didn't have that back then. And I think they did well with what they did have. 

The various notions put forward regarding the nature of time in this story are a blend of clever and hoaky. The time-scoop stuff to stop Yates' convoy being, of course, the hoakiest. While both the timeflow analogue and the TARDIS-within-a-TARDIS battle seeming quite clever to me. Even the emergency switch on the Doctor's console makes sense. Obviously, the Doctor understood the dangers of being in a vehicle that travelled through the Time/Space Vortex and set up some sort of device that would enable the TARDIS to home in on him and bring him back to the console room if ever he accidentally spilled out into the fourth dimension. It's not entirely a dumb idea and only smacks so much of "deus ex machinae" in my book. But then, maybe that's just me.

Yes, there's some blatant padding here. But welcome to most six-parters of the 70s. Only as we move into the Tom Baker era does the plotting for this format improve. Most of Pertwee's stuff has this kind of thing in it. And I do feel that some of the material is better written than some of the more blatant padding we've seen in other stories. Particularly, of course, the Doctor recalling his old friend, the Hermit. A good example of filling time with something meaningful. 

I also actually enjoyed the change of emphasis in the plotting as things shift to Atlantis. It does slow down the momentum the story has built up considerably, I'll agree. But I actually think such a move also has its merits. The attempt to creat a more "classical" feel to the series is done somewhat admirably and adds a touch of sophistication to the whole production. Better than just a bunch of running around in corridors more intensely than the characters did in the first four episodes cause we're nearing the story's climax. Something that is strong evidence in the story just before this one. So, although the move to Atlantis had detrimental effects to the plot - it also enhanced it in some ways too. So my feelings are mixed on this point. Rather than just hating it outright as many of you did. 

Do I have some very definite complaints? Oh yes. Jo (my all-time least-favourite companion) and Ruth's mustachioed assistant whose name currently eludes me seem to be having a "dorky dialogue" competition. And, though the ending with Kronos in the limbo dimension is real cool, Delgado's performance as he begs for his life is far too out-of-character in my book. These are some of the bigger complaints I have. But none of them are quite big enough for me to put this story in the category most of fandom does. In fact, I'll take this story over "Terror of the Autons", "Sea Devils" or "The Daemons" any day. Those are far "clunkier" than this tale. 

In my book, at least.

Of all the ‘lost’ Doctor Who stories, “The Evil of the Daleks” is perhaps second only to “The Daleks’ Master Plan” in terms of notoriety. In terms of brilliance, it’s second to none.

I first came across this story when I purchased John Peel’s novelisation of it way back in the mid-1990s. Say what you will about John Peel’s continuity-heavy Dalek novels, his novelisations of both Troughton Dalek serials are absolutely superb. He may embellish things slightly with the odd bit of gratuitous fanwank (for example, in “The Evil of the Daleks” novelisation he postulates that the Dalek which gunned down Davros in “Genesis of the Daleks” went on to become the Dalek Emperor in this story) but on the whole he managed to capture the essence of the original serial – no mean feat considering that it’s been missing from the BBC archives for decades. For a long while the novel was the definitive version of the story for me because, unfortunately, nothing else was available! Even the existing episode released on the 'Daleks – The Early Years' video eluded me.

Recently of course, not just “The Evil of the Daleks” but all these ‘lost’ stories have had a lot more exposure thanks to the release of the soundtracks through the BBC Radio Collection; the publication of telesnaps on the BBC website; and also most recently, the release of the compilation DVD, 'Lost In Time'. Using all three sources I’ve managed to cobble together a pretty decent telesnap reconstruction of the missing episodes, and in doing so finally manage to get a real feel for this lost classic.

Much like “The Power of the Daleks,” this story is a positive triumph from the pen of David Whitaker. The long story benefits from taking place in three distinct places (and three distinct times for that matter) so the plot never seems to drag. Episode 1 picks up from exactly where “The Faceless Ones” left off; the Doctor and Jamie have said their goodbyes to Ben and Polly, and are in hot pursuit of the TARDIS that has been stolen from Gatwick Airport! The episode has that wonderful sixties feel – the Doctor and Jamie visit a cafй called the Tricolour where there are young ladies dancing in miniskirts, sixties tunes playing… it’s very atmospheric. The plot itself is also very compelling. At this stage in the story, everything is a mystery. Kennedy? Waterfield? Perry? All players in a game that the audience has yet to learn about. Waterfield is particularly interesting – he’s clearly a time traveller like the Doctor, though a far less scrupulous one. Waterfield makes his money bringing Victorian objects forward in time to the sixties, and selling them for a small fortune… but why? Despite his business, Waterfield doesn’t seem greedy. If anything, he seems afraid…

Of all the episodes to survive, Episode 2 may not be the best of the seven, but it certainly is the one that showcases the story better than any other. When I purchased the 'Lost In Time' DVD I’d never seen any footage from the serial other than that included on “The Tomb of the Cybermen” and “The Seeds of Death” DVDs, both of which showed the sensational ‘Final End’ of the Daleks on Skaro in Episode 7. The existing episode may be far less explosive, but it does shows us a good cross-section of the story; the back-end of the section set in the 1960s, and the beginning of the section taking place in Theodore Maxtible’s Victorian Mansion back in 1866. The episode begins with the reprise from the missing first episode, featuring the menacing form of a Dalek bearing down on the nefarious Kennedy. It’s one of those rare cliffhangers where the focal point isn’t the Doctor or any of his companions; the suspense simply comes from the revelation of a Dalek. It would have worked better if the word “Dalek” wasn’t rammed down the viewer’s throat in the title, but I guess you can’t have everything!

“That’s their purpose… at least, I imagine it is. I can’t help feeling that there is more in this than meets the eye.”

The episode also features quite a lot of exposition. We learn that Waterfield is under the duress of the Daleks, who are holding his daughter Victoria hostage. We also learn that Maxtible – a huge, bearded, bull of a man – originally brought the Daleks to the house when his crude time travel experiments (which involved mirrors and static electricity) drew their attention. Most importantly, we learn of the Daleks plan. Realising that in the end they are always ultimately defeated by humanity, they are looking for the ‘Human Factor’ that they can assimilate into their genetic makeup to make them invincible. The way they plan to get it is by forcing the Doctor to record Jamie’s emotional reactions as he tries to rescue Victoria from their clutches. 

The rescue attempt in itself is brilliant to watch – Jamie’s like a Scottish Indiana Jones! It’s just one big set piece after another that lasts for the best part of three episodes! I know that may sound like a long time, but it really doesn’t drag at all, especially with Kemel thrown into the mix. Kemel is a bodyguard of sorts for Maxtible, who has been instructed by his master that Jamie is out to kill Victoria and who must be stopped at all costs! There are some great scenes where the two battle it out, before saving each other’s lives and forging a bond that sees them rescue Victoria at the beginning of the fifth episode. When the young Scot realises has been manipulated by the Time Lord, there are some fantastic scenes between himself and the Doctor; the events of this serial really put a severe strain on their friendship.

“You’re just too callous for me… You don’t give that much for a living soul except yourself.”

One reason that “The Evil of the Daleks” has been consistently popular with fans is that it portrays Pat Troughton’s second Doctor in a very different light. Whilst the Daleks are undoubtedly at their very Machiavellian best in this serial, the Doctor is every bit their equal every step of the way, crossing lines that before this story, many fans believed the Doctor would never cross. Here, the Doctor shows the side of personality that would come to the forefront in years to come when Sylvester McCoy would take on the role. He fights for all that is right and good, but in doing so his actions are often on the borderline between right and wrong. This is never more evident than in Episode 6 when the Doctor infects several Daleks with the ‘Human Factor’, turning them into friendly, child-like creatures. 

“Doc-tor. I am your friend.”

In itself, there is nothing wrong with this action. However, it is in how the Doctor rallies these Daleks to declare war on the rest of their species that he treads that very fine line between right and wrong.

The two final episodes of “The Evil of the Daleks” take place on Skaro, and there couldn’t be a bleaker setting for a darker story! The Doctor and the Daleks aside, these episodes are very dark in so may other ways. Maxtible’s greed and ruthlessness for example, as he mercilessly sells out all his friends and associates to the Daleks just so that he can learn the “greatest secret of all” from them – how to transmute metal into gold. Moreover, we witness first hand the carnage his greed causes – not merely the eventual deaths of those like Kemel and Waterfield, but the excruciating suffering that they go through beforehand.

“How many people must die so that my daughter may live?”

Waterfield’s struggle with his conscious is one of the most successful elements in Whitaker’s story. John Bailey gives a phenomenal performance as the Victorian, conveying every bit of the poor man’s mental anguish as his only daughter is held prisoner, and he is forced to aid her monstrous captors in their thoroughly evil scheme. There are also those like Arthur Terrell – the unfortunate fiancйe of Maxtible’s daughter whose life is nearly destroyed when he is infected with the ‘Dalek Factor’…

“You will take the Dalek factor… You will spread it through the entire history of Earth!”

The final cliffhanger of the story is another classic. The realisation of the Emperor Dalek is a phenomenal achievement considering the show’s budget at the time. When Jamie says, “Look at the size of that thing!”, he certainly has just cause! Through the booming voice of their Emperor, the Daleks’ real plan is revealed – they don’t want to assimilate the ‘Human Factor’, they want to infect humanity with the ‘Dalek Factor!’ 

Of course, their plan is thwarted by the Time Lord who manages to infect enough Daleks with the ‘Human Factor’ to start a civil war. In the few minutes of existing footage from this episode, the black-domed Daleks can be seen battling it out with the humanised Daleks, leading inexorably to their ultimate destruction – as the Doctor puts it himself, “The Final End.” This final episode makes an orphan of Victoria, her father having laid down his life to save the Doctor’s, and so the story ends on quite a poignant note as Victoria, Jamie and the Doctor leave in the TARDIS, watching on the viewscreen as the Dalek race perishes in the flames of civil war on Skaro. 

So good they played it twice, “The Evil of the Daleks” could very possibly be lost forever, but there is still enough of it here for us to be certain that it is one of the very best Doctor Who stories ever. The score is brilliant; the effects are ahead of their time; the locations; the atmosphere… this is a serial that has it all. For me, it encapsulates the very best of sixties Doctor Who, and it is one of my all time favourites. A majestic end to one of the series’ best-ever seasons – worth every bit of the hype! 10/10

After five wonderful episodes showcasing the more fantastical side of Doctor Who, the somewhat blandly titled story “The Invasion” sees the TARDIS crew in the more familiar setting of contemporary Earth and in the more familiar position of battling some good ol’ fashioned baddies. There are certain images from Doctor Who that have almost subconsciously become part of British culture. The Daleks parading around London in “The Dalek Invasion of Earth” is one of them; the Autons smashing their way through the shop windows in “Spearhead From Space” is another. Before the recovery of “The Tomb of the Cybermen,” the scene that the Troughton era is most famous for was without doubt the Cybermen emerging from the sewers in London in this story. Monsters on the doorstep? Arguably nothing works better, and that’s what “The Invasion” is all about. For all intents and purposes it’s a dummy run for a completely Earth-based Doctor Who; a Doctor that liases with the military in battling alien threats to Earth… sound familiar? Well in 1968, it wasn’t.

The previous season’s London underground classic, “The Web of Fear,” introduced us to a certain Colonel Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, a stiff-upper lipped English soldier; a man of action, a man of honour. “The Invasion” sees Lethbridge-Stewart return, duly promoted to Brigadier and placed in charge of the UK branch of the United Nations Intelligence Task Force (UNIT). In a refreshing change from the 60’s norm for Doctor Who, this story sees the Doctor and his companions actively work with the authorities in investigating the strange goings on; they aren’t arrested and locked up for two episodes or even quizzed about who they are and where they come from! The production team’s plan (as Patrick Troughton was scheduled to leave at the end of the season) was to establish the Brigadier and UNIT properly in this story, ready to become regulars in the forthcoming Earth-based season(s). From watching the surviving six episodes of “The Invasion,” it is clear that a lot of time, money and effort was put into creating UNIT. Their H.Q. that we see in this story, for example, is better than anything that we ever see in the Pertwee era; it looks almost like something from the lair of a Bond villain! The design is absolutely superb. There are also far more extras than usual used (many of them stunt men no doubt), plus a lot of military equipment and vehicles are also seen on screen. Unfortunately, every time UNIT show up in force their presence is marred by the most appalling incidental music imaginable; this sort of jolly whistling tune; I can’t even begin to describe how awful it is!

Sadly episodes 1 and 4 of this story are missing from the BBC archives, though in this case their absence isn’t as tragic as in some other cases. The BBC Video release of the story has Nicholas Courtney (the Brigadier) filling in the blanks with a little bit of narration, and as harsh as it may sound I was thankful that I wasn’t viewing the whole thing! The first four episodes of “The Invasion” are incredibly slow. Following Courtney’s brief introduction to the story, the video begins properly with episode 2 and it feels like nothing has been missed (although to be fair, come the end of the story I had absolutely no idea why the TARDIS was invisible – that’ll learn me!) That said, there is much to enjoy about the slow-moving story. Sherwin’s script allows a lot of time for the Brigadier to develop, and also to introduce one of the serial’s main guest stars, Isobel Watkins (Sally Faulkner) – a character that would have made a great companion in my reckoning. Moreover, the longer story gives the principal villain, Tobias Vaughan, even longer to be… well villainous, really. Vaughan stands out as one of the best human antagonists of the Troughton era; he’s right up there with Theodore Maxtible and the like. Kevin Stoney brings a deadly earnestness to the part and a frightening sense of self-righteousness which pre-empts iconic characters like Davros and Omega. I also found his henchman, Packer, incredibly amusing in that stereotypically ineffectual henchman kind of way. Peter Halliday plays it completely straight that works perfectly, particularly in his scenes with the more offbeat Pat Troughton.

My hat really goes off to Derrick Sherwin for some of the subtleties in his script. For example, I enjoyed listening to Vaughan rant on about how he believes in “uniformity” and “duplication”, all the while thinking to myself, “aha, he’s dropping clues about who Vaughan is in league with.” Well yes, of course he is – but he’s also getting away with using the same office set for several different locations! Genius!

However, on top of their slow pace, the first half of the story is also completely devoid of Cybermen. I assume that their appearance in the cliffhanger ending to episode 4 (very similar in nature to the emergence of the silver giants in “The Tomb of the Cybermen”) would have been a surprise to the audience, otherwise surely the story would have been called “Invasion of the Cybermen”? Surprisingly, this works rather well. Not only does it give the episode 4 cliffhanger that “Oh My God!” shock-factor, but I think it also makes for a better story. So soon after six episodes of “The Wheel In Space,” I seriously doubt that the over-used Cybermen could have sustained an eight-part serial. In fact, for the most part the Cybermen in “The Invasion” are little more than foot soldiers for Vaughan; visually striking and very intimidating, but without a charismatic villain like Vaughan the story wouldn’t be half as good as it is. Likewise, as exquisitely evil as Vaughan is, without the Cybermen to back him up his own plans of world domination would be rather laughable, even with his high-society connections. His little talking computer is hardly all that menacing either, especially from a 21st century perspective!

Nevertheless, the pacing of the story suddenly becomes much faster in the fifth episode. Not only do we have Cybermen lurking about in the sewers beneath London, but also we learn that Vaughan is planning to double-cross them. He has forced Professor Watkins (Isobel’s kidnapped Uncle) to build him a ‘Cerebration Mentor,’ a machine that generates emotional impulses. It’s just the sort of thing an android like Star Trek: The Next Generation’s Data would have been eager to get his hands on, but to a Cybermen it’s as lethal as gold. Moreover, aside from the action there are some brilliantly written character moments. I particularly enjoyed watching the Brigadier utter the immortal line “Well, you’re a young woman. This is a job for my men,” to Isobel which sent her running for the nearest sewer just to prove him wrong, and Professor Watkins’ emotive speech to Vaughan. The Professor says that he will help Vaughan because he knows he wouldn’t be able to stand up to torture and he certainly doesn’t want to die, but if he ever gets chance he’ll kill him – an incredibly brave and bold move by the Professor in my book. It also sets up a fantastic scene where Vaughan gives Watkins a gun and dares him to shoot. The bullets don’t harm Vaughan; he has the body of a Cyberman!

It is episode 6 which features the timeless scene of Londoners collapsing to the pavements, each of them trying to shield their ears from the Cybermen’s powerful hypnotic signal as the silver giants slowly emerge from the sewers and begin their invasion. Jamie has an immortal line at the end of the episode: “Doctor! The Invasion has begun!” I was half-expecting the Doctor to turn around and say something like “What? Already? But there are still two episodes left!”

The penultimate episode sees Zoe use her technical skills to blow up the Cybermen’s invasion fleet using British missiles, causing the surviving Cybermen to double-double-cross Vaughan and decide to just wipe out humanity full-stop with their ‘Cybermegatron’ bomb! I have to say, for all my whinging about the story being slow the final episode has to be one of the most action-packed episodes in the history of Doctor Who. Whilst UNIT valiantly try to hold off the Cybermen, the Doctor manages to persuade Vaughan to use his Cerebration Mentor against the Cybermen. Vaughan agrees, not to save the Earth but because he’s angry with the Cybermen for double-crossing him before he had chance to double-cross them! He takes enough of them out to allow the Doctor and UNIT to destroy the remaining Cybership, bringing “The Invasion” to its fiery climax. 

I think the scene of the Doctor running down the alleyway as fast as he can, his coattails only the tiniest distance ahead of the Cybermen’s gunshots, is the perfect finale to the story. The Brigadier shouts “Down!” and the Doctor hits the ground. Suddenly the threat is over, and the Doctor is still on the floor, amusingly tidying up his hair because Isobel isn’t wasting any time in taking photographs of ‘the hero’! Brilliant stuff!

Since their introduction two seasons earlier in “The Tenth Planet”, throughout the Troughton era the Cybermen made more appearances than the Ice Warriors, the Yeti or even the Daleks. “The Invasion” marks their last appearance in the series until 1975, and also the first appearance of their new design; the basic tenets of which would remain part of their make-up right up until 2006’s “Rise of the Cybermen.” Their voices (when they utter their one line in the entire story) are atrociously bad, and the story’s rather unimaginative ‘conquer or destroy’ plot both go some way towards explaining why it would be nearly six years before they would appear on television again. “The Invasion” is a completely mixed bag. The simplicity of the plot is rescued by the brilliance of the characters; the over-used Cybermen are saved by their juxtaposition with contemporary London and for once, keeping their traps shut. Love it or hate it, “The Invasion” is one of the most important cornerstones in the history of Doctor Who. It’s a little glimpse of the Doctor’s near future, a teaser of what is to come…

Set on the planet Karn, this is the simple story of renegade Time Lord Morbius and his surgeon friend Mehendri Solon. Solon’s trying to piece Morbius back together as you see he’s just a brain sitting in a tank for the moment and he’s keen to get back out there and rule the galaxy. Also on Karn are the Sisterhood, led by Maren, who was present at the trial of Morbius and saw him executed and believes him long dead. The Sisterhood also worship and maintain the sacred flame that produces an elixir of life, thus allowing them to be immortal. Then the Doctor and Sarah turn up…

Looking at the story from a 2006 perspective, it's holds up remarkably well and offers new and veteran viewers alike a rich palette of ideas and concepts.It's fascinating from a symbolic and psychological perspective as well as being an interesting story redolent with past influences.

To being with, let's take a look at what I think is the core of the story the dichotomy between the head (masculine rationalism) and the heart (feminine emotion and intuition). Morbius is literally torn apart by the dispersal chamber at his execution and this is an apposite act by a society that was threatened by his disruption. His punishment cuts him off from an instinctive free relationship with nature and he becomes an irrational figure who has lost contact with the personal experience of life. 

Solon’s after the perfect head in which to house Morbius’ brain, the Doctor becoming the preferred option. Solon’s obsession about having the perfect head is understandable. Morbius has effectively been castrated and left to his own torment in a dark Underworld devoid of senses. The head is symbolically regarded as the domain of the masculine with the heart being its feminine counterpoint. One can see that the Solon/Morbius relationship is concerned with the dominant male progressing in the world through the application of science. The Sisterhood are the feminine principle of the story, driven by intuition, forces of nature and relying on the mind and matter approach of magic and sorcery. The head is also symbolic of the fully conscious mind, of the full awareness of reality – something which Morbius lacks in order for his masculine ego to be freed from the Unconscious. ‘The crowning irony’ as Solon informs Morbius that his new head will be that of a Time Lord.

Morbius fears the feminine and has no masculine power until Solon can provide him with a new head and body. The Sisterhood fear Morbius and the Time Lords and have an aversion to progress through scientific rationalism. It takes the Doctor to demonstrate that science and magic can be one and the same thing. Hence, his firework aided chimney sweeping of the Sisterhood’s sacred flame, his instant analysis that the elixir could actually be synthesised and his cyanide solution to getting out of the laboratory to stop Morbius. And of course, he will eventually need the elixir himself if he is to survive the ordeal with Morbius. 

Emotionally, there are also things to note. Solon is driven by his work and is obsessed to the point of madness in trying to give Morbius his freedom. His is a life absent of real joy. He only sees the material potential of the bodies around him with no concern for sentiment and feelings. He is all about the disintegration of the personality which leads to schizophrenia whilst he physically is attempting to stop the material disintegration of Morbius. As he feverishly sews up bits of bodies to re-integrate Morbius, he is inside shattering psychologically.

Secondly, a brief discussion of the female principle in the story as formed by the Sisterhood and Sarah. The Sisterhood, through their disavowal of the benefits of science, are impotently immortal. Any intrusion through science – the crashed spaceships on Karn are the result of their handiwork – meets with destruction. Their immortality is a curse, their magic brings them no progress. They are static and isolated even though through their femininity they are able to co-operate with the blind forces of nature. This force is literally evoked through Maren’s temporary blinding of Sarah. Sarah as an active, free feminine influence in the narrative is punished with blindness and isolation because of their fear. She’s the potential of what they could all be (progress) and Maren brings her down a peg or two for rescuing the (masculine) Doctor. In the end, the Sisterhood are as equally isolated as Morbius – they through their fear of the masculine penetration of science and he through the mis-application of science – Solon’s attempts to reanimate his body and the effects of the dispersal chamber. The Doctor is the figure that reconciles all of these elements – he uses a science/magic approach to vanquish Morbius and to hopefully bring progress to the Sisterhood.

Appropriate to this era's supposed use of the Gothic, the story has a number of very visceral and physical elements present within it. Condo's arm is highly symbolic of this. Condo experiences his body directly through pain and because he can see his own arm as an external object grafted onto the Morbius body. It is symbolic of Condo’s humanity and with it he would be a complete person again. It is also the only recognisably human part of the Morbius body, capable of vain gesticulation. Condo’s also capable of feeling and emotion and appreciates Sarah’s feminine beauty and does not understand why it should be destroyed. He recognises the power of his emotions through seeing his promised physicality given to the Morbius creature and through his affection for Sarah but Solon ultimately punishes him for it. For that, it’s an astonishingly brutal story. One particular sequence in Part Three is rather notorious. As Solon prepares Morbius’ brain for the surgery, he faces an angry Condo (Condo has seen his arm on the creature). Solon shoots him, they fight and the brain falls on the floor. It’s at once violent – Condo’s chest explodes very gorily in full frame – and blackly comic – the brain plops out onto the floor rather satisfyingly in a pool of slime. It is hilarious, repulsive and fascinating. It’s a sophisticated range of reactions produced in a short sequence and is highly typical of the Hinchcliffe/Holmes attitudes to overt violence and black homour in the series. Solon is attempting to further disintegrate Condo’s body and expunge the outpouring of feminine emotion and feeling into his isolated male prison of science.

The mental battle betwen the Doctor and Morbius is as much about the apparatus being a mirror reflecting the opposing forces within the psyche. The combatants are as much a reflection of each other, a reverse of each other. The contest is also conducted in reverse in so far as to reach the desired goal it is necessary to regress to your origins e.g. we see all their previous incarnations. The hero must descend into the depths of infancy in order to move on towards maturity. The Doctor’s trick is to get Morbius to gorge on his own Ego, to fly too close to the sun and therefore come crashing down to earth when his brain literally fries. He is overcome by his own narcissistic reflection of himself. The mirror is also earlier a trigger mechanism for the Morbius creature to go on the rampage as he sees his true reflection in the laboratory.

Looking back at the story now, it is worth noting that it’s entirely studio bound, complete with sets representing the exteriors of Karn. Now, admittedly, the construction of those sets does affect our reception of the story. Wood is used to represent stone for the exteriors and you can clearly hear Lis Sladen’s feet clomping about. However, the production’s overt staginess actually doesn’t destroy the illusion but rather contributes to the feeling that this is an entirely closed environment, hermetically sealed. It reminds me of some of the BBC’s studio bound Shakespeare productions of the late 70’s and early 80’s. Let’s also not forget that much of studio based television was still using theatrical modes of presentation at this time. The camera very rarely moves in this story, is fairly static and the lighting, flaring into the lens on occasion, often heightens the sheer theatricality of it e.g. the sun rise at the Doctor’s execution. Barry Newbery’s design is also a huge contribution to this ‘play’ and the sets in Solon’s castle are a bricolage of design styles and the almost Himalayan atmosphere these create is very similar to the pressure cooker environments of Powell and Pressburger’s ‘Black Narcisscus’. The combination of the ‘hippy Tibetan’ vibe of the Sisterhood’s costumes and make-up, the radiophonic wind chimes and other sound effects for the planet surface and the Nepalese flavour of the production design really build up that effect. There is also a nod to the Expressionist lab designs of umpteen Universal and Hammer horror films too.

As far as influences are concerned, this is ‘Frankenstein’, primarily. But there are also nods to ‘The Island Of Doctor Moreau’, Rider Haggard’s ‘She’, ‘Beauty And The Beast’, ‘The Hunchback Of Notre Dame’, 50’s B movies and Top Of The Pops (the Sisterhood do a delirious Pan’s People number to capture the TARDIS and to sacrifice the Doctor)

Visual effects are on the whole pretty good. The vista of crashed ships is just about acceptable. The brain tank in the cellar with Morbius’ brain is a triumph of physical effects, especially the trembling bit of material that vibrates as Morbius’ voice rants on. One favourite effect is the blast from Maren’s ring directly into camera as Sarah escapes. That would still pass muster today. The ‘monster’ is so self-referentially ridiculed within the context of the story (‘pot pouri’ and ‘Chop Suey’) that there’s really no need to highlight how daft it looks now. The intentional and unintentional humour implied by the monster costume combine to offset some of the more visceral moments – the shooting and the brain on the floor for example as well as numerous strangulations and a burning at the stake.

Tom and Lis are at their best here. It’s a solid relationship of mutual respect and admiration. Sarah is a tad too much of victim here but who can forget that chill up the spine as she advances, blind, toward that big glowing brain and Michael Spice’s delicious, ranting performance as Morbius. Philip Madoc is superb as the twitchy Solon, desperately trying to rescue his own career as a surgeon whilst trapped in the dungeon of Morbius’ own mind.

It’s interesting to watch a Doctor Who story that I haven’t seen in years, especially when I remember it so well that I’ve practically memorized parts of the dialogue. I’ve seen “The Deadly Assassin” more times than I can remember, but as with so many episodes, a fresh viewing causes me to see it in a different light. I’ve always thought it was a good story, but now I think it’s outstanding. It doesn’t water down the Time Lords as much as I seem to remember. The Time Lords of “The Deadly Assassin” are a varied lot, as any society would be, from the down to earth Spandrell to the haughty and politically astute Borusa to the ruthless and determined Goth. There isn’t a bland face among the supporting characters. 

There are a few unique aspects to the story that make it stand out among the others in the series. The most obvious aspect is that the Doctor is travelling alone, which is almost unique in the series history. This leads to more than the usual amount of the Doctor talking to himself, something which jumped out at me more than it had on past viewings. It’s not unknown for Baker’s Doctor to talk to himself or make asides, so it’s not out of character, but it is noticeable. Later in the story Castellan Spandrell fills the companion’s role, but he is a character of authority who moves independently of the Doctor and is essentially a peer, so he’s not typical companion material. 

Another aspect that could be considered somewhat unique is the utterly unobtrusive use of continuity. JNT’s Who contained a lot of references to past stories, many of which whacked you over the head with all the subtlety of a sledge hammer. While sometimes enjoyable, at other times that approach could get tiresome rather quickly. Here we are treated to a mention of the Doctor’s trial (The War Games) his exile (seasons 7 8 and 9) and subsequent remission of that exile (The Three Doctors), and it’s perfectly natural. It makes sense that Spandrell and Engin would discuss the Doctor’s history in relation to a criminal investigation. Notably, the Doctor’s history in relation to the Time Lords does not dictate the plot of the story, it simply provides some background and behavior motivation since the Doctor is regarded as a criminal by Spandrell, even before he’s accused of killing the President. In addition, Runcible's question "Have you had a facelift" and the Doctor's reply of "several so far" again feel quite natural, as two old acquaintances catching up would naturally discuss what they'd been doing in intervening years. It’s rare to find continuity handled so well within the context of a story. 

As mentioned, the Time Lords are a varied lot. They do not appear to be the awesomely powerful beings of ‘The War Games’ who put force fields around planets and dematerialize dangerous criminals, though since we see them in a different context, it’s easy to assume we’re simply seeing a different side of the Time Lords. However another option is presented us. Engin and Spandrell bring up the Celestial Intervention Agency, an agency which shares it’s initials with the American CIA, which leads me to assume that the name is something of a joke. Regardless, the existence of such a group does allow for the coexistence of the feared interventionists we saw in “the War Games” and the Time Lords of “Deadly Assassin” who assume much of Rassilon’s technology is a myth and whose society is apparently stagnant. It’s an believable society we’re presented with: the Time Lord aristocracy who rule the planet, who enjoy ceremony and are governed by a president and constitution; who are (like any group of politicians) concerned with the opinion of the general public. They don’t intervene in outside affairs, and despite being one of the most technologically advanced races in the universe have seemingly forgotten or lost much of their past technological prowess, while the covert CIA actively intervenes and has access to more technology and information than Time Lords in general. Perhaps the Doctor’s trial altered the strict noninterventionist stance of the Time Lords and he’s had more of an impact on his society than he knows. Perhaps the CIA was formed as a result of his opening the eyes of some Time Lords to the dangers in the universe. More on this later. 

Borusa and Goth are the two main Time Lords we get to know in the course of the story. Borusa’s relation to the Doctor is enjoyable since this is one of the few instances where the Doctor is confronted by an authority figure whom he seems to respect, and certainly remembers well. The Doctor is the perpetual outsider, but that’s not really the case here. He’s not comfortably at home in Time Lord society, but he knows it well and operates within it like an expert. Witness his use of the law to save his life in episode two, and his knowledge of the chapters and their reputations as he sneaks into the Panopticon in episode 1. He shows no favorable sentiment at being home, but is rather eager to leave when he gets the chance, which is entirely in keeping with his character. He mocks Borusa’s ‘adjusting the truth’ despite his respect for his old teacher, and Borusa seems quite fond of the Doctor despite being an apparent willing participant in the trial which would have led to the Doctor’s execution. It’s a unique relationship, expounded upon nicely in ‘The Invasion of Time’. Borusa comes across as pragmatic, recognizing the responsibilities of high office, but willing to mislead the public for what he considers the good of the Time Lords in general. 

Goth is an altogether different man, ruthless and ambitious, though seemingly charismatic as seen in his dealings with Spandrell. He’s more hard-edged with Borusa, who gives as good as he gets in exchanges with Goth. The conflict between him and the Doctor gains (unintended at the time of this was made I’m sure) depth since Bernard Horsefall played one of the Time Lords at the Doctor’s trial. In one of those happy accidents when I was taping Doctor Who off PBS, I taped the end of "the War Games", and then story that follows it on that tape is “the Deadly Assassin”, so it’s easy to watch the trial of the second Doctor and then go straight into this story. Of course it’s never stated that Goth and the Time Lord are the same character, but why not draw that conclusion since the first character is never named? It alters the way I see the characters of Goth and the Doctor relate in the story since they’ve met before and have some small history together. Goth presides over two trials of the Doctor and is almost responsible for his death. In the first instance he’s clearly out for justice by Gallifreyan standards, but in the second his motives are not so noble. However, it’s hard not to feel sympathy for him, since despite his evident character flaws, he’s under the influence of the Master and thus not entirely to blame. Goth seems out of his depth during the hunt through the Matrix dreamscape in episode three. Despite being armed and knowing the terrain, he makes several mistakes which cost him the struggle. 

Another aspect of Goth that distinguishes him from other Time Lords is the fact that he’s been off planet. As I mentioned above, it’s easy to imagine that his exposure to the outside universe during the Doctor’s trial opens up his mind to the responsibility of those in power to fight evil, and so he begins to examine the universe and its problems, and to travel. He mentions meeting the Master on Terserus, and like the Doctor and the Master, Goth has had his mind broadened by spending time outside Time Lord society. His dream world in the Matrix does not reflect the environment of Gallifrey, but contains a lot of imagery from Earth. Perhaps it’s been tailored by Goth to be something familiar and disturbing to the Doctor (and of course the viewer), and it is worth noting. 

Peter Pratt’s interpretation of the Master is a far cry from Roger Delgado. Seen for the first time since “Frontier in Space”, the Master is ghastly looking and is as ruthless as he ever gets. His plan is dangerous but sound enough, and had he exercised restraint and not involved the Doctor, it would have succeeded. Just like “Colony in Space”, he puts the knowledge of the Time Lords to better use than they do, as he uses the information about the artefacts Rassilon left behind in an attempt to perpetuate his life. This Master is a far cry from the lunatic we see in Logopolis or Castrovalva. Unlike those stories, the Master doesn’t kill for no reason and doesn’t chuckle insanely, and most of all isn’t stupid enough to cause the destruction of half the universe by not doing his homework. He knows the effect that releasing the power of the Eye of Harmony will have, and he’s prepared a way to survive it. He plans ahead and considers consequences. He’s simply out to survive and take his revenge on the Doctor. However, as the Doctor observes, hatred is the Master’s weakness, and it proves his undoing as the Doctor, being the master improvisationalist that he is, lies about the sash and distracts the Master long enough to avert total disaster. 

Despite the less than stellar quality of my old off-air copy, I have to admit that the Panopticon set looks impressive. The Time Lord robes and high collars are very fitting for this austere race, and the Master looks suitably emaciated, though he would be a bit more convincing if his mouth moved better. And the poor guy can’t even close his eyes! No wonder he’s in such a bad mood. The chancellery guard don’t seem incompetent so much as outclassed by the Doctor and the Master, despite Spandrell’s sarcastic remarks to Hilred. The commander gets some exercise in police-work, since Spandrell mentions running Shobogans in for vandalism, so crime is not unknown on Gallifrey. Crimes on the scale that the Master attempts to perpetrate are another matter entirely. 

The story itself plays around with the four episode structure in a creative way. Episode One sets up the conflict and tension beautifully by showing the viewer the presumed assassination of the President by the Doctor, and ending with the same event. In between we are introduced to all the characters and situations as the Doctor works with the limited time he has to try and prevent what he has forseen from actually taking place. Episode two deals with the fallout from the events of episode one and sets up the Doctor's enemies and allies. Now the plot is a little thin for four episodes, so rather than drag out episode three with empty running around after false leads, etc., the story takes a brilliant left turn into surrealism and the wonderfully depicted duel between the Doctor and Goth, which is an outstanding bit of drama. Part four finishes the story up with a suitably grand threat and climax. Never does the story feel strung out, and so it's a triumph on the structural level as well. 

I used to be irritated that Robert Holmes had diminished the Time Lords from the high-and-mighty beings that were seen in the War Games. I’ve changed that opinion to a large degree. They are certainly de-mystified, but still interesting and in many cases equal to the Doctor, and believable as an aloof race that has turned away from the universe. As such, they no longer grow as a society. Having achieved the pinnacle of technological achievement, they’ve diminished and have become self-absorbed and complacent. The Doctor’s boredom with their society is entirely understandable. Anyone who would rather risk death time and time again at the hands of numerous hostile alien races would be out of his mind with boredom on Gallifrey. In short, “The Deadly Assassin” adds to rather than ruins the Time Lords, and is a minor masterpiece of characterisation and drama. Highly recommended.

One of the most patronising things that anyone can say about a good sixth Doctor story is “wow, that’s really good for Colin Baker.” It’s as if it’s impossible for one of his stories to be genuinely good on its own terms, and people have to instead make the best of things by saying “oh well, it could be Timelash, so count your blessings.” Now when a bona fide classic comes along like Revelation Of The Daleks this is rendered nonsense, but I can sort of see why this view comes about in relation to The Mark Of The Rani; while it’s not quite good enough to be counted as able to survive its own era like Revelation or Vengeance On Varos, it’s still streets ahead of one or two other moments of Colin’s brief era. Therefore what reputation it has largely rests on the fact that it comes in the same season as Timelash and Attack Of The Cybermen – personally, while I understand this viewpoint I think it’s unfair to attack the entire story because the reasons it gets laughed at occasionally can be isolated into just a couple of scenes.

Immediately noticeable is the vast quantity of location shooting (a figure of 50% is one I’ve heard passed around), and thanks to some quite superb direction from Sarah Hellings – sadly her only story for Doctor Who – there’s a much classier feel to this story than I might have expected from an era not known for its taste. It’s helped by some pleasant incidental music, even though the dated sound of the synthesisers is highlighted by the period setting and their attempt at imitating actual instruments. The studio sets are also pleasantly subdued (particularly the Rani’s TARDIS, of which more later), possibly earning this the title of best looking sixth Doctor story.

Unfortunately, a sixth Doctor story will at some point involve the presence of the sixth Doctor. Dreadfully misconceived though his character is, Colin just about manages not to embarrass himself too much in this story, apart from his first scene with its notorious “malfunction!” shriek. It’s made all the worse by being his first scene and therefore devoid of context, and his theatricality disrupts the peace of the opening scenes like a sneeze in a library.

In case anyone doesn’t notice when they watch the story, this is what first introduces us to Pip ‘n’ Jane Baker, two decent plot-writers but whose tortured dialogue has earned them a reputation as two of Doctor Who’s worst writers. To be honest in comparison with some of their later work The Mark Of The Rani seems alright, even if they undo their good work in the second episode by providing the programme with one of its most infamously stupid lines. Nevertheless it’s quite sweet to see them pitching their episodes firmly at a family audience, as the miners’ newfound aggression manifests itself in them whipping each other with towels and kicking over stalls of potatoes. 

I don’t know why the Master’s dressed as a scarecrow, alright? It’s just spooky looking, I suppose, although I’ve never approved of elements in a story – technically good though they may be – that emphasise effect over sense. However, a serious mitigating factor is that Anthony Ainley tones down the ham in a story that in many ways doesn’t allow for that sort of thing. However, there are still one or two annoying scenes as the writers advance the plot by having him talk to himself. There’s a good scene where he meets the miners for the first time, and the deliberate irony of having the Doctor chide Peri for her smugness is amusing.

Terence Alexander gets most of the best lines in the episode, although he throws himself into the Victorian-gentleman trope a bit too enthusiastically to make him believable. He certainly has a dramatic entrance though in a decent action scene over the pit.

To be honest, neither Ainley nor Kate O’Mara is terrific in their roles, but O’Mara comes off the best here even if Ainley is still above average. The exchanges between the Rani and the Master are always fun to watch; what scores this story serious points in my book is the way it uses the Rani – a character with clear-cut needs and motivations – to send up the Master’s clichй of causing mischief for its own sake, without a proper reason.

Meanwhile, back on the other side of the plot, the Doctor’s logic in piecing together the peculiar events so far is interesting to listen to, but the villains have been given too much screen time too early on (with consequent plot revelations) to build up a decent sense of mystery. And, just in case you’d forgotten who wrote this story or felt their reputation was undeserved, we get the ridiculous line “fortuitous would be a more apposite epithet.” That said, there is much to enjoy in the Doctor’s confrontations with the Rani and it’s always nice to see his costume covered up. The only serious problem with the episode so far, as far as I can see, is that it’s shallow. Apart from the send-up of the Master there’s little here beyond the basic plot for me to really get my teeth into.

The cliffhanger to the first episode, at least this side of the episode break, is pretty good with some excellent film editing and good stunt work from whoever the poor sap was inside that casket (“so you want a job, do you?”). Unfortunately episode two has the famously lazy resolution where the reprise is re-edited and extra footage spliced in showing that the Doctor was never actually in any danger. They might have got away with this five or ten years before when episodes were being watched only on transmission, but by 1985 the era of the home video recorder was well underway and the production team short-changing the viewer like this isn’t so easy to overlook as it might have been in a black and white episode.

Episode two sees a definite drop in quality over episode one, and the interplay between the Rani and the Master is still a highlight of the story. However, having the Master repeat “the mark…of the RANI!” as if it’s an incantation a second time is a very unsophisticated piece of writing. There is a genuinely touching moment as the Doctor waxes lyrical about the Rani’s morals, and the mustard gas moment is a nice idea that worked better when I was a kid, I think.

The Rani’s TARDIS is seen for the first time at this point, one of the classiest sets ever seen in the series. I could easily believe that the entire budget of the season was used up on this one set, and it seems like an affront to designer Paul Trerise to allow Colin Baker on it while wearing his full costume. It’s all complimented by more superb location shooting (like the spider’s web shot – Hellings is possibly in the top twenty Doctor Who directors, maybe top ten for location filming). However, now we come to the most contentious issue in the entire story, and the easiest target for its detractors: the Rani’s landmines.

Is it plausible to have a device that can turn a human into a tree in a small explosion? Since it’s Time Lord technology, I don’t see why not. Is it a good special effect? I think so, yes. Was it a good idea to have the character formerly known as Luke reach down a branch and grab Peri? No. It’s compounded by that stupid line I alluded to earlier, the hilarious “don’t worry Peri, the tree won’t hurt you!” What elevates the line from just another clunker and into a piece of loopy genius though is that it makes perfect sense in context, which rather detracts from the whole concept of the scene, really. The story’s wound up with some more dodgy lines, like calling the Master a “crack-brained freak”, and a non-resolution where the Rani’s TARDIS is sent flying away faster than it should, and all’s done. I still like it, but I can’t help but feel a sense of waste.

I do like this story, but it’s got just a few too many flaws to really qualify as above-average. Whereas stories like Day Of The Daleks settle quite comfortably into average ratings, I feel more disappointed by The Mark Of The Rani because, despite all that works against it – the writers being the chief example – it comes very close to being something more.