I’ve always felt about The Mutants (editor’s note: alternate name for ‘The Daleks’) that the “done thing” is to praise it; it is, after all, the first Dalek story, and the story that cemented Doctor Who’s popularity with the public. Despite this, I've always looked upon it as being quite dull. As with 100,000 BC however, I've come to reassess it having watched it again. The TARDIS crew continues to develop, the Doctor still exhibiting the selfishness he displayed in the previous story В– he is quick to suggest leaving Barbara to her fate when he discovers that they have radiation sickness, more concerned with saving himself and Susan. When Ian insists that they find her, he then elects to abandon both teachers. Later, he is in no doubt that they should use the Thals to aid them, despite the fact that, as Ian says, they have no right to endanger the Thals just to get the fluid link back. In this case, Barbara agrees with the Doctor, whereas Ian strongly disagrees В– a reminder that, whilst they tend to get referred to in tandem, they are each well-rounded characters in their own right. Ian comes across as the most reasonable member of the TARDIS crew here, only finally acting to enlist the Thals once he realises that the Daleks will kill them if they donВ’t defend themselves and later holding the morale of the expedition together, diplomatically blaming himself when Antodus fails to catch the rope during the chasm crossing, and striving to reassure him. Despite this, the crew continues to operate well as a team in dangerous situations; all four of them contribute to the plan to escape the Dalek cell, and once committed to working to attack the Dalek city, the four members all play vital roles. The DoctorВ’s character continues to develop; he launches eagerly into the attack on the Dalek city, expressing sheer glee when he destroys the power line in episode six and getting so caught up in the mental challenge of what he is doing that he becomes oblivious to the danger they are in and ends up being recaptured. This, I feel, is a key example of his increasing delight in “becoming involved”. The Daleks also have a profound effect on him I feel; as noted, he still exhibits enormous selfishness during the first half of this story, but witness his rage at the “senseless killing” planned by the Daleks; not only is he starting to relish involvement but he also I think starts to feel that there is evil that needs to be fought. Susan comes of less well than in her debut, prone to more fits of hysteria and panic, although in her defense she completes her mission to fetch the anti-radiation drugs from the TARDIS despite gibbering in fear until she meets Alydon. It’s probably convincing behaviour all things considered, but this doesn't make it any less irritating, and although by the second half she has calmed down in general, she swaps her panic for a role as the Doctor’s shadow, there purely for him to explain things to for our benefit. 

The atmosphere aboard the TARDIS at the start of the story is interesting; Ian and Barbara clearly think that the Doctor owes them a degree of responsibility to get them home, whereas the Doctor objects strongly to this, blaming their curiosity for their presence. Despite this, when not under stress, he seems almost to appreciate their company, asking Barbara to reassure the frightened Susan and eagerly showing off the TARDIS food machine. This story also gives us a greater sense of the sheer size of the TARDIS, allowing us beyond the then-massive control room and further into the ship; it isn’t just bigger on the inside, it’s much bigger on the inside. 

The Daleks are impressive in their debut, and not merely because of their distinctive appearance and method of movement. They come across as excellent scientists and strategists, having harnessed static electricity learnt how to grow food in artificial environments, created an entirely artificial city, and developed a long-lasting power source in the cityВ’s nuclear reactors. They are quick to allow the Doctor and his companions to live when they realize that they can be used to trap the Thals, and quickly realize what is happening when the laser scope is blocked by the reflections, switching without hesitation to the vibrascope, demonstrating the degree to which they take multiple eventualities into account in their technology and thinking. Most of all of course, they come across as callous and ruthless, defining their prisoners solely by their usefulness, eager to destroy the Thals in order to remove any obstacles to their planned rebuilding of Skaro, and prepared to irradiate Skaro again without any sign of a conscience about wiping out everything else living on the planet just so that they can survive. They are not the backward, city-bound non-space faring, non-time traveling primitive Daleks I remembered, but rather master planners, keen to extend their technological and territorial boundaries and become that threat seen in their later appearances. This is not some prelude to the start of the DaleksВ’ status as the Doctor’s archenemies this is the beginning. It is interesting also how they are used as a metaphor for the nuclear threat, the cold, scientifically dependent, war-mongering, radiation based Dalek society versus the peace loving farmers, the Thals. This is nowhere more evident than in the final episode, as the countdown progresses towards nuclear annihilation of the Thals and a Dalek-less future for Skaro. It is also unusual for a writer to include such a message alongside such an obvious argument for the need to fight, represented by the death of the pacifistic and trusting Temmosus. 

The Thals are rather duller than their nemeses and still come across as rather wet, but nowhere near as much as I remembered. They are well scripted as individuals, with the pouting Dyoni, the stalwart Alydon, the dashing Ganatus, and the terrified Antodus who is painted as a coward so that he can redeem himself through a brave death. The whole expedition across the swamp and through the caves is raised above B-movie status by the character interaction, be it between Ganatus and Antodus, or the sexually charged friendship between Ganatus and Barbara. Finally, I must mention Skaro – in a series that would come to use quarries as alien locations, the studio-bound settings on Skaro are an impressive achievement, let down only by the obvious painted backdrops used to make the corridors in the Dalek city look longer (the perspective is wrong). The Petrified Forest and the caves look very convincing, and even the swamp works well, despite stock footage of a caterpillar used to portray a mutant. Overall, the Daleks is an impressive debut, although it is a shame about Susan’s pratfall at the end. The development of the relationships between the TARDIS crew progresses well, ready to be given lasting definition in the next story.

There is little that can be said about An Unearthly Child that hasn't been said before. Nevertheless, I'll mention a few things - it's a great episode, atmospheric, intriguing and well acted. Ian and Barbara are immediately engaging, Ian cheerfully admitting that he's curious about Susan, Barbara claiming that she is genuinely worried about the girl. The Doctor is, from the start, a fascinating character whose rather patronizing and high-handed attitude towards his two stowaways is fascinating - I know of course how he mellows towards the two teachers over time, especially after Inside the Spaceship, but it will still be interesting to see it unfold in order, for the first time for me. Despite knowing what it looks like, the first shot inside the TARDIS still impressed me and it must have been amazing in 1963 - the direction is superb. The fact that Ian and Barbara pass out on take-off is weird though. The only weak point really, is Susan (more on that later), who provides the only embarrassing bit in the episode with her weird hand dancing to John Smith and the Common Men. 

Anyway, I could go on about An Unearthly Child, but I'd rather move on to The Cave of Skulls, The Forest of Fear, and The Firemaker. I haven't seen these episodes for ages and I'd decided that they are dull. Having watched them again however, I've had to reassess them. The Cavemen are basically dirtied actors in rugs, but they all act with such conviction that I found them thoroughly believable. Their desperate desire to survive and their brutality were superbly conveyed - Za and Kal in particular, both ultimately brutal and stupid no matter how cunning they try to be, are played well. Their final fight in the cave is particularly well done, actually resembling a violent, desperate fight to the death. Za's brutal slaying of Kal contrasts nicely with his struggle to understand the new ideas offered by Ian - friendship, and strength in the unity of the tribe. And the cave set looks brilliant.

The TARDIS crew continues to shine - Ian and Barbara's struggle to understand what has happened is well done, and their eventual success contrasts with Za's failure to rise above a savage despite Ian's best efforts. Barbara's hysteria in the forest is convincing and makes sense; Ian's strained pragmatism contrasts, but also works, as he tries to keep control as much for Barbara's sake as for his own. Their insistence on helping Za, however ultimately foolish, again shows the contrast between them and the savages. The Doctor is fascinating here, concerned primarily with his own survival and that of his granddaughter - his frustration at Ian and Barbara's helping of Za and brief attempt to kill the caveman suggest what he later states in The Dalek Invasion of Earth - he is prepared to kill in self-defense. But at the same time, he seems to be watching his companions intently, and is perhaps shamed by their compassion. Certainly, by the time Ian and Barbara leave him in The Chase, he is much mellowed. That said, he is not the anti-hero claimed by some - he offers Barbara comfort in the Cave, and admits that he is scared. It is this fear I think that fuels his desperation to return to the TARDIS. He is also quick-thinking and resourceful, swiftly assessing the situation on regaining consciousness and offering to make fire almost as soon as his eyes open; later, he easily manipulates (the admittedly stupid) Kal into confessing his part in Old Mother's death. 

The only thing that grated for me was Susan's reaction to the Doctor's wandering off - at this point, she had no idea that he had been kidnapped and no reason to. Yet immediately on seeing that he is out of view, she screams hysterically and falls apart. Panicking under stress is one thing, and given later hints of prior adventures I'd have thought she'd have learnt to control it to some extent anyway, but her hysteria in this case is ridiculous. 

So all-in-all, a much better start to the series than I remembered, and one worthy of re-assessment. And it even has an anti-smoking message.

I've just watched ‘Marco Polo’ as part of my Who marathon, thanks entirely to Loose Cannon, who have provided a superb recon. I should just note that there are some fans who will insist that a story cannot be judged based on its soundtrack alone, or even a recon – I don’t agree, since the heavy dependence on dialogue of Doctor Who at the time easily allows most of the missing stories to transfer fairly easily to audio, especially with narration or captions to cover the action sequences. However, if anyone out there does stridently insist that I can’t judge an incomplete story without having seen it as first broadcast, then read no further and wait until I get to ‘The Keys of Marinus’.

Anyway, ‘Marco Polo’ is an interesting story for several reasons. Firstly of course, it is the earliest missing story and is completely missing (not even clips survive), which have given it a near-legendary status. This is helped by the fact that the soundtrack has not yet been released on CD and is (at least my experience) harder to get bootleg copies of than the other missing episodes. Secondly, it is the first historical, and also the longest. Finally, as I have noted previously, the relationship between the TARDIS crew members has now been established by the previous three stories, and this allows individual supporting characters to really shine in Doctor Who for the first time. 

‘Marco Polo’ has four major guest characters of note: Marco Polo, Tegana, Ping-Cho, and Kublai Khan. Polo himself is a superb character, essential noble and seemingly keen to gain the friendship of the travelers, for whom he develops respect, but unable to fully do this due to his theft of the TARDIS. Desperate to return home to Venice, he insists on presenting the ship to the Khan to try and negotiate his freedom from service, but in doing so he denies it to the Doctor and his friends. His resolve prevents him from relenting and indeed he does present the TARDIS to the Khan, but he struggles with his conscience throughout, knowing that he has acted unjustly. The problem lies partly with the fact that he doesn’t understand the TARDIS – he believes it is a caravan that flies, but doesn’t understand just how advanced it is, assuming that the Doctor can build a new one and offering to grant the travelers safe passage home. It is this plot device that keeps the Doctor and friends on Cathay, since Polo manages to separate them from the TARDIS as effectively as any lost fluid link, and it makes their troubles greater in many ways В– unable to convey their urgency to Polo, they make frequent attempts to regain the ship, refusing to give Polo, who is otherwise well-disposed towards them, their word that they will not make further such attempts. This places them in a quandary when it becomes clear that Tegana is not all he seems, since Polo cannot fully trust them and is more inclined to believe TeganaВ’s accounts whenever they accuse him of mischief. Ultimately though, Polo returns the TARDIS key to the Doctor in the court of Kublai Khan, during the confusion after Tegana’s defeat. Ian has by this point tried to tell him the whole truth about the TARDIS, to which Polo replies that he if believed Ian he would give them the key back, realizing that the travelers could find no other way home. After the travelers are instrumental in Tegana’s defeat, Polo finally realises that Ian was telling the truth, and gives the Doctor the key beneath the Khan’s very nose; in a story concerned with the theme of going home (the Doctor and his companions, Polo, and Ping-Cho are all motivated by a desire to do so) Polo realises that, even if the Khan will not let him return home to Venice, then at least the travelers can go home. 

Tegana is the first real single villain in Doctor Who – the Daleks are a race of monsters, and Kal and Za’s struggle for leadership and survival is hardly the same as the sort of scheming villain that will recur in Doctor Who. The Warlord Tegana is an excellent villain, cold and ruthless, but cunning enough to hide his true intent (to kill the Khan in the name of his own Lord, Noghai) from Polo at least. Even before we learn of this, he is established as a threat – when the travelers first encounter Polo’s party, it is Tegana that they meet and his is keen to kill these supposed “evil spirits”. Polo saves them, but Tegana threatens them at every turn, responsible as he is for all the various ills that befall PoloВ’s caravan. Derren Nesbitt brings great presence to Tegana, who is a softly spoken, commanding character; he easily convinces Polo that he, and not the travelers, is lying when they try to accuse him of villainy on several occasions, and he convinces Polo to let him ride back for Ian and Ping-Cho, both of whom he intends to kill, despite the TARDIS crew’s and Ping-Cho’s warnings that he is up to something. Tegana is also quick to improvise to cover his actions, casually explaining that he was delayed at the oasis by bandits and easily fending off any suspicions. He is ruthless too, prepared to kill even Ping-Cho, since she is in his way. He also unhesitatingly dispatches his allies, including Acomat, when the need to maintain secrecy arises. Presumably he is also very dedicated, given that he could not reasonably expect to stay alive for long after completing his mission. His penultimate encounter with Polo, when he casually and easily ruins Polo’s hopes of the Khan letting him return to Venice, shows him swiftly discarding his faГ§ade in order to get the Khan alone, at which point he tries his assassination attempt. When Polo out-fights and disarms him, rather than answer to the Khan, he almost definitely commits suicide, impaling himself on a sword – a fitting end for one of Doctor Who’s earliest villains.

Ping-Cho’s importance stems mainly from her friendship with Susan, which draws her to aid the travelers, partly due to their sympathy at her plight – she is being forced to marry a man old enough to be her grandfather. Like the TARDIS crew and Polo, she is keen to return home, but simply to afford marriage – once her husband to be dies, she happily remains in the Khan’s court. It is interesting to speculate that this is also in part due to the influence of Susan’s tales of her travels, which might well have encouraged Ping-Cho to experience the thrills on offer at the court of Kublai Khan. The Khan himself is the fourth guest character of particular note, due largely to his relationship with the Doctor. The two old men, one crippled by gout and the other with a bad back, riding to Peking in the Khan’s state caravan and playing backgammon provide one of the most memorable parts of ‘Marco Polo’ and also demonstrate the first stirrings of comedy in Doctor Who, something which Hartnell had extensive experience of in his previous career and which he is capable of excelling at later in Doctor Who. The Doctor’s first meeting with the Khan, as he reluctantly attempts to kow-tow and his howls of pain prompt the equally-pained Khan to question whether he is being mocked, are played purely for laughs. The later backgammon scenes are also witty, with the Doctor winning an absurdity of prizes but failing to win back the TARDIS – the Khan however tells Polo after the travelers have escaped Peking that he would have won it back at some point anyway. The details make the Khan’s character – he’s the most powerful man in Cathay, but he’s a gout-ridden old man who is henpecked by his wife and is a self-proclaimed bureaucrat. Nevertheless, when facing death at the hands of Tegana, he seems to face it defiantly (as far as I can tell from the recon) and once saved by Polo he coldly informs Tegana that those who oppose him must be humbled and that Tegana must be put to death; interestingly though, he says this in the same way that he says Noglai must be humbled for rising against him, by enforcing harsh conditions of peace. On neither occasion does he seem motivated by revenge as such, but rather by a need to maintain order, suggesting perhaps why he is so well-respected by even the Venetian Polo.

One other interesting thing I realized about watching ‘Marco Polo’ stems from foreknowledge of ‘The Aztecs’ – despite being in a period of history that Ian and Barbara know of from history books, the Doctor at no point that we see warns them not to interfere. Despite this, the TARDIS crew is directly responsible for saving PoloВ’s caravan on two separate occasions, suggesting that had they not been present Kublai Khan would have died at Tegana’s hand. It is possible that the Doctor does not mention this because he does not consider it interference if the course of history as he knows it is maintained, however accidentally; on the other hand, it is interesting to speculate that if history originally ran differently and Noglai came to power, but the Doctor and his companions inadvertently changed its course. Probably not, but the idea did intrigue me. 

Finally, ‘Marco Polo’ owes its legendary reputation in large part to its sets and costumes. Thanks to the recon, we can at least see these even though no clips survive and they are certainly impressive. Although nearly all of the action on screen takes place at way stations and camps due to the lack of location filming which would have perhaps allowed conversations on horseback, the use of Polo’s voice-over and illustrated maps of the journey manage to convey the sense that the Doctor and his companions have been traveling for weeks, which of course is the intention. It works well in creating the illusion of a journey despite the fact that really ‘Marco Polo’ is filmed on only a few sets with no actual traveling on screen. Overall, ‘Marco Polo’ is well deserving of its classic status.

I don’t, on the whole, agonize over the fact that there are missing episodes of Doctor Who. Obviously, I would prefer it if the entire series existed in the archives and on those rare occasions when an episode or even, in the case of ‘The Tomb of the Cybermen’, and entire story is recovered, but I accept that most of the missing episodes were junked, don’t exist, and probably won’t be recovered. The reason that I’m so philosophical about this is that all of the missing episodes survive as audios, which frankly I’m enormously grateful for; there are not, insofar as I am aware, audio recordings of the missing Ian Hendry Avengers episodes, or the missing episodes of Doomwatch, or the last four episodes of The Quatermass Experiment, or any of A For Andromeda or Target Luna. Bearing this in mind, I consider myself as a Doctor Who fan to be quite lucky, especially as many of the black and white stories work quite well as audio dramas. And then I listen to ‘The Web of Fear’ and become enraged. 

‘The Web of Fear’ suffers on audio more than most missing Troughton stories, because some of the atmosphere is lost. This is evident from the surviving episode one, which at least sets the scene for the remainder of the story. There are two key points at which ‘The Web of Fear’ really suffers from the lack of visuals, and these are the death of Captain Knight and the massacre of Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart’s men, the latter in particular a lengthy and dramatic sounding sequence in which the actors playing the soldiers scream horribly accompanied by an impressive and foreboding instrumental score and really make me wish I could see the attacking Yetis. Nevertheless, I am grateful that ‘The Web of Fear’ exists in some form, because it continues the high standard of Season Five. 

‘The Web of Fear’ is the quintessential base under siege story, with the base in question being the army headquarters. But this not just a base under siege story; in ‘The Abominable Snowmen’ and ‘The Ice Warriors’, the barren and icy exteriors contrasted with the seemingly safe haven provided by the Det-Sen monastery and the Ice Base to make them seem welcoming, whereas here, the base feels like a prison, a claustrophobic last bastion against the encroaching web and the marauding Yetis. The entire story has a feeling of claustrophobia thanks to its tunnel-bound setting; even when the Doctor and his friends leave headquarters, they are generally unable to leave the Underground tunnels, which are increasingly cut off by the web. It is this claustrophobia that enhances the suspense of ‘The Web of Fear’ to truly impressive levels; the humans have no way of escape, and nowhere besides the base to retreat to. By the end of episode five, even the headquarters is consumed by the web. Then there is the dwindling supporting cast, as soldiers are killed by either web or Yeti, and of course the increasing paranoia as it becomes clear that one of them is a traitor. Episode one sets the scene well; Travers’ visit to Silverstein’s collection is filled with foreboding, and this is helped by the impressive incidental score sampled from mad composer Bela Bartok (and used in the previous story, also to great effect. And The Shining too, for that matter). It becomes obvious almost immediately that the immobile Yeti is going to come to life once more and kill Silverstein, leaving only the question of when; with Travers and his daughter gone, the familiar beeping of the control sphere heralds the reawakening of the Yeti and a terrified Silverstein’s death). Incidentally, the transformation of the Yeti is rather effective and is nice touch; since the production team decided to redesign them to make them less cute, it is nice to note that they actually acknowledged this change on screen. It also serves to accentuate the Yeti’s reactivation, somehow helping to make the entire sequence both sudden and shocking. Following this, the scenes of the TARDIS entombed by the web in space are also effective, and rather sinister. This marks the only the second time that the TARDIS has been interfered with in flight, the first being ‘The Web Planet’, and it is demonstrates the power of the Intelligence. Following this, the TARDIS arrival in the Underground allows for further foreboding, as the Doctor, Jamie and Victoria find the web covered corpse of the old newspaper vendor, and the true extent of the threat to London slowly becomes apparent. 

The Yetis themselves work better here than they did in ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, which is frankly rather impressive given the effectiveness of that story. Partly this is because of the redesign, which makes them sleeker and less cuddly, but mostly it’s because they roar and most importantly because they are in the London Underground. Jon Pertwee rather famously claimed that there is nothing more frightening than coming home and finding a Yeti sitting on your toilet in Tooting Beck; clearly, the man was outrageously exaggerating since it would be far more terrifying to find for example a heavily-armed lunatic sitting on one’s toilet than a zoological curiosity, but the argument does hold that the Yeti are more effective here due to their incongruity. In addition, whilst most of this story is studio bound, the impressive recreation of the distinctive tunnels of the London Underground recaptures some of the effect of seeing the Daleks glide around London landmarks in ‘The Dalek Invasion of Earth’. ‘The Web of Fear’ is the first Doctor Who story to show such an invasion in a contemporary setting, but of course not the last (and no, I’m not including the sight of one War Machine at a time lumbering unconvincingly around London). The roar of the attacking Yetis is surprisingly effective, and is memorably punctuated by the screams of their victims on several occasions. Another reason that the Yetis seem more dangerous here is that they are seen to kill far more people than in ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, where the Intelligence seemed more concerned with frightening the Monks aware rather than slaughtering them. In addition, they are seldom inactive; in ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, Jamie and the Monks accidentally deactivated one and later on the Doctor and Jamie struggled to stop a control sphere reaching its Yeti, whereas here this is never the case after the scene in Silverstein’s collection. When the Yetis do emerge out of the darkness, they nearly always kill or capture someone. The web guns are also worth mentioning, since they give the robot Yetis an effective line of defence against explosives and also provide and effective visual image as they emerge onto the platform in episode one brandishing weapons.

The Intelligence is less effective here than in its dйbut, due I think to the vocal talents of the actors involved. In ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, the Intelligence voice was key to its success and due entirely to Wolfe Morris’s acting skills. Here, the Intelligence uses different pawns and the effect is less impressive. Whilst I like Jack Watling as Travers, when Travers is possessed by the Intelligence he sounds more asthmatic than sinister. Jack Woolgar is better as the possessed Staff Sgt, Arnold, especially since he sounds considerably different when he’s not under the Intelligence’s control, and he does manage to sound quite chilling, but he still isn’t as good as Morris was at conveying the entity’s sheer evil. In some respects, the script doesn’t help; the revelation that the object of the Intelligence’s invasion is actually the Doctor is a good one, and is to be congratulated for making this story more than just a retread of the Intelligence’s plans in Tibet, but once it has taken Victoria hostage it starts to gloat and sound smug, which makes it seem less alien, and thus less threatening, than in its debut. Despite this, it still works well enough as a villain however. The web, presumably the equivalent of the shapeless form that it was adopting in ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, works well and the seems far more unstoppable at times than even the Yetis, as it slowly fills the tunnels, hemming the humans in and also isolating the Doctor from his TARDIS. The ending is perhaps too similar to the ending of ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, with the Intelligence defeated by having its equipment blown up, but the twist that this prevents the Doctor from defeating it utterly is quite nice. In addition, because of the higher body count in this story, there is less of a celebratory feel once the Intelligence is defeated; Padmasambhava had been kept alive like a zombie in ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, and his death gave the impression that he had found the release that he wanted, whereas here the blackened corpse of Arnold is far grimmer testimony to the misery wrought by the Intelligence. 

There are more prominent characters here than in ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, but Lincoln and Haisman prove able to cope with the challenges this presents, giving every character, no matter how minor, distinct characterisation. Jack Watling makes a welcome return as Professor Travers, now having become the living embodiment of “irascible”. His portrayal of Travers as a grumpy, eccentric scientist is endearing rather than distracting, and provides a brief but welcome moment of comic relief in episode one, when he deals with the obnoxious Chorley. Tina Packer as Travers’ daughter is an attempt to portray a strong female character and should be applauded as such; she plays the part well, and does get to deliver a withering riposte to Knight’s patronizing enquiry of “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”, but ultimately she is reduced to the role of either her Father’s or the Doctor’s assistant, which rather spoils the effect. The other supporting characters all work well, which is essential given the increasing “whodunit” aspect as it becomes clear that one of them is a traitor (Chorley is an obvious red-herring, whereas Arnold always seems too reliable to possibly be the traitor, which keeps the viewer guessing nicely). Special mention must go to two other characters however: Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart and Private Evans. Lethbridge-Stewart immediately makes an impact, thanks to his commanding presence, coupled with a charisma that Courtney’s previous Doctor Who character, the grim Bret Vyon, lacked. He is particularly impressive due to his tendency to lead by example, leading his men into a battle with the Yetis, which as it happens only he survives. He is equally brave when he agrees to help Jamie find Victoria in episode five, a mission that he suspects to be both futile and potentially suicidal, but which he undertakes in preference to doing nothing. He also noticeably starts to develop a rapport with the Doctor, despite the mutual distrust caused by the knowledge that someone is betraying them to the Intelligence, and it could be either one of them. Private Evans is rather different character, in that he is portrayed as a coward. The character’s strength however is that he is a realistic coward; his plaintive suggestion that they hand over the Doctor to the Intelligence as requested rings with terrified sincerity and is motivated purely by absolute fear, something the Doctor clearly realises as he gently promises to give himself up to save them if no other alternative presents itself. It is interesting that Evans contrasts so sharply with Chorley, also terrified but thoroughly odious, and is testament to the basic fact that Evans is really rather likeable. Whereas Chorley blusters when Knight sarcastically invites him along on a mission into the tunnels, Evans is much more frank when Jamie asks him why he came back to join him and he shamefacedly admits that he couldn’t get out through the locked gates. 

Troughton is as ever at his finest here, and as in Haisman and Lincoln’s previous script, he is determined to defeat the menace threatening London as soon as he becomes aware of it. In some ways, he’s even more central to the plot than usual, since he is the Intelligence’s objective. Although he seems at times to be vaguely flattered by this, he also quickly takes responsibility for the situation, as noted agreeing to give himself up the Intelligence to save lives. His final plan to defeat the Intelligence by turning the tables on it and draining it of knowledge instead of letting it drain him is seemingly a last minute plan; whilst he is probably confident that he will think of something based on enormous past experience of tight corners, his determination to walk into danger to spare others is always commendable. The fact that his frustration at having his plan to defeat the Intelligence once and for all inadvertently sabotaged by Jamie quickly evaporates in light of the lavish praise heaped on him by his companions at the end is a typically charming moment and serves to lift the atmosphere after Lethbridge-Stewart and the others grimly discuss the death toll caused by the Yetis. Jamie is once more on form as well, having been sidelined for the latter half of ‘The Enemy of the World’. His headstrong bravery is at its most evident, as he goes off with only Evans for company to try and find the Doctor, and stands his ground as web and Yeti approach in an unsuccessful attempt to defeat the Intelligence early on by destroying a glass pyramid similar to that seen in the Det-Sen monastery. Later, as noted, his determination to try and save Victoria manages to inspire an increasingly disillusioned Lethbridge-Stewart to action. Ironically, it is this headstrong streak that foils the Doctor’s plan in episode six, as Jamie leaps into action, “rescuing” the Doctor in defiance of his instructions, which results in the Intelligence’s short term defeat but leaves it floating in space as a potential future threat. Finally, Victoria’s brief reprieve from constant terror in the previous story ends, as she is taken prisoner by the mind-controlled Travers, taunted by the Intelligence, and terrified by her Yeti guard. Here more than in any story since ‘The Evil of the Daleks’, she is surrounded by death and fear, which leads neatly into her final story. 

Overall, ‘The Web of Fear’ is yet another in a string of excellent stories, and is a highly effective use of the base-under-siege scenario.

‘The Keys of Marinus’ is, in my opinion, the first disappointment in Doctor Who. This is largely because it has enormous promise, which it almost completely fails to live up to. Essentially, ‘The Keys of Marinus’ is a quest. It’s been described in The Discontinuity Guide as a B-movie plot and it is, but the thing it most reminds of is those Fighting Fantasy Adventure gamebooks that Steve Jackson and Ian Livingstone made popular. ‘The Keys of Marinus’ has a quest for lost keys, during which our heroes must overcome monsters (the Morphos), traps (in Darrius’s ruined fortress), wolves and icy tunnels, and even (after a fashion) the undead. Consequently, there is little time for plot development, as the TARDIS crew is whisked from place to place on an episodic basis. And therein lies the real shame, because Marinus is actually one of the most interesting alien planets featured in Doctor Who. The reason I say this is simple – Marinus has different races of men, different cities, different environments, and different types of flora and fauna. How many planets in science fiction series end up being represented by one city and a stock set? How many, like Earth, are actually shown to be complex societies with different power blocks, races and religions? The answer I think is very few, even in Doctor Who and especially in, for example, Star Trek. This is usually because of time and budgetary constraints, but occasionally, it really grates. Marinus avoids this, but fails to exploit this advantage. We see the city of Morphoton, and its ghastly ruling brains, but we learn almost nothing about how they managed to take over in the first place. We see men frozen in ice reanimated to protect one of the keys, but get no explanation as to how this is achieved – they act like zombies for the most part, but one of them screams horribly when he falls down a crevasse. And then there are the Voords.

We learn almost nothing of the Voords. They are often referred to as “the alien Voord” presumably because of the blurb on the back cover of the Target Novelisation, but as far as I can tell, they are actually another race of the humanoid population of Marinus. All we know about them is that Yartek is well over one thousand years old, but then in episode six it is suggested that Arbitan invented the Conscience, so he’s two thousand years old, which doesn’t support Yartek being a different species. Also in episode six, Stephen Dartnell’s very human eyes and mouth can be seen through Yartek’s mask, which is probably unintentional, but doesn’t lend credence to the alien Voords theory. In fact, the only tenuous evidence is that Yartek at one point refers to the other Voords as his creatures, but that could mean several things. 

The other main issue I take with ‘The Keys of Marinus’ is to do with the Conscience, which is basically a brain washing machine. With his increasing moral stance following the events of the first three Doctor Who stories, much could have been made of this, especially since he only agrees to collect the keys under duress, when he and his companions are denied access to the TARDIS. Instead, we get a warm and fuzzy feeling towards Arbitan as soon as the travelers are ready to return to his island, and a throwaway line from the Doctor about man not being meant to be controlled by machines. 

We also have the first big plot-hole in Doctor Who, in episode two – Barbara, arriving in the City of Morphoton seconds before the others, somehow has time to have a dress made, get to know Altos, and learn about the city. This is a pretty gaping flaw. 

Despite all of this, I can’t totally condemn ‘The Keys of Marinus’ – it has redeeming features. Firstly, the regulars really give it their all, resulting in convincing acting throughout (and thus making up for Arbitan’s gurning in episode one). Susan, who I have always loathed, is actually fairing better during my Who marathon than I would have expected from memory – here she still has bouts of irritating hysteria, but is brave enough to struggle across the ice bridge to save herself and her friends, although she is admittedly galvanized into doing so by the threat of the ice soldiers. Later, when she is held prisoner in Millennius, she looks terrified, but manages not to turn into a complete gibbering wreck. The Doctor comes over very well in ‘The Keys of Marinus’ – we saw the TARDIS crew acting like a team in ‘Marco Polo’, but here he really shows how much he has come to like Ian and Barbara, entrusting Susan to their care without hesitation, and showing real concern when he is trying to overturn the charges against Ian. The scenes in Millennius are generally pretty good, with sound acting from all concerned and a reasonable plot, although the unmasking of the real criminals does depend on stupidity on their behalf, falling for bluffs and giving themselves away through verbal slips – something of a clichй. Ian and Barbara also get yet another chance to shine, due to Hartnell’s absence during episodes three and four – Ian is at his most resourceful, and Barbara also demonstrates courage, especially in light of the rather disturbing hint that Vasor intends to rape her. Interestingly, she notes at one point that Ian treats her like Dresden China and she finds it annoying, but notice how she smiles gently after him as she says this, and contrast it with her genuine annoyance in ‘The Daleks’ when Ganatus asks her if she always does what Ian tells her to. This is a clear sign that they are getting closer. 

Overall, the part of me that used to like Fighting Fantasy books does still quite like ‘The Keys of Marinus’, and I can’t totally condemn it. Sadly, I can’t totally recommend it either, but it passes quite quickly and is, for the most part, an enjoyable if lightweight romp. But the lost potential really frustrates me, and if any authors out there fancy writing a sequel, which revisits Marinus, I for one would buy it.

Speaking in terms of production, The Keys of Marinus is quite a weak effort compared with those stories around it. In terms of ideas it is interesting, claustrophobic in parts and thought provoking in others. This is a story with potential, but as sporting commentators tell us potential can sometimes be an excuse for poor performance - and this is the case with The Keys of Marinus.

The story itself is broken into five parts - each part a story within a story. The first part (Episode 1), concerning how the Doctor and friends end up on the quest for the Keys of Marinus, is the worst episode I have viewed so far (sequentially speaking). However, the pace picks up as the travellers head to Morphoton to recover the first key. Interesting concept here - a device (the mesmeron) is used by the cities elders to subjugate their population by showing them their world, and their lives, as it really isn't. These elders have themselves been reduced to brains living in tanks and are sustained by a complex life support system. On television, this sequence almost works and is, in certain aspects, frighteningly convincing - until Barbara kills the elders and destroys the mesmeron with a few weak swings of a wooden rod.

The next two sequences are well structured and, in spite of the absence of the Doctor, hang together well on television. The Screaming Jungle concept is good science fiction, despite some over-acting from Jacqueline Hill. The 'lost on the mountain' sequence still makes strong, claustrophobic television, particularly the latent sexuality of Vasor the trapper's heel turn and stalking of Barbara.

The City of Millenius (called Millenium in the novelisation) episodes again provoke some thought - a legal system in complete opposition to those used by Western Nations today. The onus of proof is on the defendant, rather than the prosecutor - in other words, guilty until proven innocent. Another almost convincing idea - let down by a basic 'murder-mystery' plot a child could solve before its obvious conclusion is played out.

The acting of William Russell is, once again, a pleasure to watch in this story. He tries as best as he can to make the cringeful unconvincing look as convincing as it can in these early stories.

In terms of history, this was only the second story to be set on an alien planet - and the second to introduce alien races. Terry Nation tries valiantly to make Marinus very alien - seas of acid, beaches of glass - and give his world a history in the same way he did for Skaro. The 'Conscience Machine' idea is also great science fiction. But the visual delivery does little justice to these ideas - it suffers from a symptom of its time, there was only so much that could be done in a technological sense in 1963-64 - some of the sets look great - other not so great.

That said, I expected this story would provide an excellent opportunity for the novelist to give Terry Nation's script some new life and vision with its wealth of ideas, concepts and aspects to explore and expand. I was sadly disappointed. Philip Hinchliffe passes over the opportunity to write a classic novel (which Nation's ideas present him with) and instead delivers Terrance Dicks style play-by-play account of the television story - and I think even Dicks would have done a better job of novelisation this story. Hinchliffe himself has admitted he did not really want to write this story nor did he enjoy the experience and I think it shows. I have not read a positive review of the novelisation of The Keys of Marinus and I'm not going to be a trendsetter. There is little character development, particularly of the Voord - are they natives to Marinus or aliens? Is there something inside the suit or is that their skin? Ambiguities like this aren't even addressed let alone mentioned. Description is minimal - and the narrative is copied almost word for word from the script. There are a few cringe moments too thrown in for good measure.

This story had definite potential, however I think it is an 'honourable loss' in both visual and print media (to coin another sporting phrase). Perhaps one day new novelisations of the television stories will be produced in the fashion of the EDA/PDA's we know today. If that happens, The Keys of Marinus may finally reach its full potential.