Apologists for 'The Invisible Enemy' like to affectionately describe it as "grand folly". I like to define it as "utter cobblers". Saddled with a stupid plot, very cheap-looking production values, an extremely silly monster, and bad acting, it comes as a massive disappointment after 'Horror of Fang Rock' and has also aged very badly.

'The Invisible Enemy' suffers from arguably the worst script Bob Baker and Dave Martin ever contributed to the series, and they wrote 'The Three Doctors'. The plot is laden with unconvincing and silly technobabble, three points of which I shall address. The first is the Swarm; frequently described as a virus, the Swarm bears no resemblance to anything actually approaching a virus in real life. Viruses are small stretches of nucleic acid wrapped in a protein coat and sometimes a lipid envelope. The Swarm is a megalomaniac seafood platter with the ability to infect robots, survive outside of a host after having been increased in size by an enormous factor, and give its hosts big silver eyebrows. Slightly hypocritically, I probably wouldn't mind so much if some pseudoscientific description of a micro-dimensional organism had been provided, but by calling it a virus, the writers drive me to distraction throughout. The second item of unconvincing technobabble concerns the clones. It was apparently noted by a viewer at the time that if the clones in Episodes Two and Three were real clones, they would be stark-bollock naked. The process of cloning described bears about as much resemblance to any real basis of cloning as a haddock bears to Peru, with the process seemingly producing telepathic clones with a psychic connection to their originals, and also managing to clone knives and guns. Which is impressive. In fact, the "clones" are more akin to the transmat duplicates described in 'Down', 'The Slow Empire', Barry Letts' execrable Blake's 7 audio 'The SevenFold Crown', and (I am informed) Star Trek. Mention of the clones brings us to the third point of technobabble and by the far the most ludicrous: The Doctor's brain. The Doctor is not human; he is a Time Lord. This being the case, I can be convinced that his physiology is different to that of a human, but depicting the inside of his brain as a series of garish dry tunnels with foam rubber dйcor stretches credibility to new limits. Whereas in 'The Brain of Morbius' we had a Time Lord brain that looked more or less like a human's, here we see the Brain of Tawdriness, a farcical journey through one of the least convincing sets in the entire history of the series. The script of course is paying homage to Fantastic Voyage, but both that film and its thematic sequel Inner Space, sensibly showed the body to be full of fluid. Here, budgetary concerns could not possibly allow this, so instead of doing the humane thing and setting fire to the script, the production team create the interior of a brain out of some reddish paint and old drapes. 

'The Invisible Enemy' look awful throughout. The sets on the Titan base look, basically, like cheap studio sets, rather than a futuristic metal walled outpost. The costumes are immensely silly, especially the massive-headed spacesuits in Episode One, which look like they have been drawn for a Warner Bros cartoon, and the green PVC overalls and skull-caps worn by the personnel of the Bi-Al Foundation. The model shot of the shuttle crashing into the Bi-Al Foundation amusingly reminds me of the space battle from Monty Pythons' The Life of Brian, as the shuttle careers widely from side to side as it plummets towards its target. The worst aspect of the entire production is the Nucleus, looking, as it does, like a giant prawn. The scenes of its human slaves rolling it along corridors are unintentionally hilarious, and this makes the Doctor's concerned proclamation that the Swarm could overrun the solar system like a plague of giant locusts highly entertaining, since the things can barely move and the Nuclues does little except wobble menacingly. And on the subject of the Bi-Al Foundation, I don't care how advanced medical science and hygiene techniques have become by the year five thousand, the sight of a man about to perform surgery whilst wearing an old jacket will always be ludicrous. 

With dodgy script and dodgy production values, we might hope to look to good acting for solace, but sadly it is not to be. Everyone in the cast seems thoroughly bored, except for Frederick Jaeger, who seems to be taking the piss to keep himself amused. After his excellent performance as Jano in 'The Savages' and as Sorenson in 'Planet of Evil', his outrageous accent here comes as something of a shock. As do his facial hair and spectacles. Michael Sheard, normally so reliable, here seems slightly stunned by the paucity of the programme he's been tricked into making, and puts in a performance as Lowe that makes him look constipated. Tom Baker seems particularly bored and lacks all of the intensity he brought to 'Horror of Fang Rock'. Louise Jameson comes across the best, especially when her instincts are warning her of danger in Episode One, but the end of the story she too seems bored. Leela also gets to use her knife on people for the first time, which ends up looking very unconvincing due to the lack of blood, which the production team of course could not have got away with. 

Amidst all this rubbish however, there are two things I like about 'The Invisible Enemy'. The first, trivial though it is, is the "Finglish" used for the signs in the Titan base and the Bi-Al Foundation; as an attempt to show that languages evolve and change over time, it is a rather nice idea. The second is K9. For fans who bemoan the change in direction after Graham Williams took over from Phillip Hinchcliffe, K9 is probably an object of some hatred, clearly designed as he is to appeal to a younger audience and emphasizing the change away from more horror-orientated and arguably more adult stories. In addition, I hadn't noticed until now how badly he's aged; the white cleaning robot in the Fosters lager advert looks more state-of-the-art than K9 does, and the initial problems with the actual prop are in evidence here, with K9 making a considerable racket whenever he moves. Despite this however, I can't help but like him. There's something about the concept of the Doctor owning a robot dog that makes it seem perfectly at home in the series, and John Leeson's enthusiastic vocal performance helps to make K9 endearing. 'The Invisible Enemy' is hardly his best story, but he nevertheless manages to make an immediate impression. 

Overall, 'The Invisible Enemy' is televisual diarrhoea, and it is unfortunate that Graham Williams' first real chance to put his stamp on the programme after the Hinchcliffe-like 'Horror of Fang Rock' should go so badly wrong. It doesn't help that it is followed by a much more impressive story which, like 'Horror of Fang Rock', also feels like a leftover from the previous producer's era…

Much like 'Horror of Fang Rock', 'Image of the Fendahl' feels very much like a product of the Hinchcliffe era, encapsulating the same feel of gothic horror that permeated many of the stories from the previous two seasons. In many ways, it bears similarities to 'Pyramids of Mars', with an ancient and powerful evil that even the Doctor is afraid of seeking release after millennia of inactivity, with revelations about the origins and evolution of humanity, and set as it is in an old priory with wooded grounds. Whilst it doesn't achieve quite the same reputation as its Egyptian-themed predecessor, it nevertheless repeats this same basic formula with impressive results. 

A large part of the success of 'Image of the Fendahl' is due to the brooding horror of the Fendahl itself, despite the fact that it doesn't actually get the opportunity to do much. From the moment the hitchhiker is killed by an unseen, slurping, thing in Episode One, the tone of the story is set; mist-shrouded woods, glowing skulls, and rapidly decaying corpses all create a sinister atmosphere. Once the Doctor starts to realize what he is facing in Episode Two, Baker's delivery of the Doctor's lines is as crucial to the suspense as it was in 'Pyramids of Mars', as he describes an ancient evil that has passed into even Gallifreyan legend. The revelation that the Doctor is frightened by the Fendahl is delivered in a subdued, quiet fashion, in Episode Three, but plays a significant role in emphasizing the danger of the Fendahl, as does the Doctor's grim assertion that if it isn't stopped there will be only one human left alive on Earth within a year. It is in this way that the danger posed by the Fendahl is conveyed; never quite complete during the story, and with no lines, the actual creature does little, but is carried by its reputation. The Doctor and Leela's abortive trip to the Fifth Planet in Episode Three is often described as padding, which isn't entirely unfair but benefits the story by revealing that the Fendahl is considered to be so lethal that the normally non-interventionist Time Lords took the precaution of time-looping its home world. 

The gulf between the Fendahl's actions and its reputation is nicely bridged by the ingenious concept of making it a gestalt entity. By ensuring that it never manages to complete itself, Boucher is able to write about a monster of enormous power, without necessitating a contrived means of defeating it, as was unfortunately the case with Azal in 'The Dжmons' and to a lesser extent with Sutekh in 'Pyramids of Mars'. With the gestalt incomplete, the Fendahl is vulnerable, the Fendahleen susceptible to the effects of salt. On the other hand, the story shows the Fendahl to be powerful enough even whilst it is recreating itself, having influenced mankind's evolution over millions of years in order to orchestrate its resurrection, able to create Fendahleen out of pure energy, and able to transform humans into other Fendahleen and of course the Core. The production generally rises to the challenge of making the Fendahl a foreboding menace; the Fendahleen look reasonably good (although the full sized model is far better than the model embryos), and although the director foolishly adopted the tactic of painting obviously false eyes on Wanda Ventham's eyelids, the Fendahl Core still manages to look chillingly austere, an effect aided by its eerie silence throughout. 

The tension and overall effectiveness of 'Image of the Fendahl' are also greatly aided by some great characterisation and acting. Although Edward Arthur's Colby is both obnoxious and irritating, the other characters are all engaging. Denis Lill is superb as the intense Fendelman, who misdirection initially casts as a villain, given his ruthless dedication to his work (his calculating attitude to the discovery of the hitchhiker's corpse does not create a favourable impression). His eventual realization of just what has underlain his work is well written, and his final appeal to Stael as he tries to convince him that "mankind has been used!" is delivered with an impressive air of desperation. Wanda Ventham is also quietly impressive as the doomed Thea Ransome, increasingly overwhelmed by terror as she finds herself being affected by the skull. Scott Fredericks' Maximillian Stael is a ranting madman, who veers over the top at times, but Fredericks' manages an enjoyable performance nevertheless, and Stael's eventual suicide is very well handled, as he achieves a kind of redemption after nearly unleashing a force that could have destroyed all life on Earth. However, my favourite guest cast member is Daphne Heard as Mrs. Tyler. Unusually for Doctor Who at this time, Mrs. Tyler is portrayed as somebody with a long interest in and knowledge of the occult, without being patronized by the Doctor. He quietly explains the scientific basis underlying her "gifts", but also accords her respect and doesn't make announcements such as "superstitious rubbish". I've never had any reason to believe in magic, but even so the Third Doctor's arrogant and patronizing dismissals of Miss Hawthorne in 'The Dжmons' left an unpleasant taste in my mouth, so I'm glad it isn't repeated here. Heard's performance is spot-on, mixing eccentricity and common sense in just the right amounts to create a likeable if slightly cantankerous character, and her delivery of the line "it were 'ungry for my soul" further adds to the implied menace of the Fendahl. She also gets some other great scenes, such as when she illogically argues with Geoffrey Hinsliff's Jack Tyler about distrusting men who wear hats. 

The regulars also do well here, as usual. K9 is sidelined due to his last-minute inclusion in the TARDIS crew (at least from Boucher's point of view), effectively giving the Doctor/Leela duo one last outing. Baker is still on fine form here, treating the story with great seriousness whenever necessary and convincingly suggesting that the Doctor is in great pain at the end of Episode Two. Jameson is as a good as ever, and Leela's character shines under the pen of her creator once more; her warrior instincts are on full display, and despite being unsettled by the Doctor's fear of the Fendahl, she demonstrates her usual approach to death, which is to face it head on with knife in hand. The rest of the production matches the high quality of the acting and scripting; the location filming meshes perfectly with the sets, and Dudley Simpson's incidental score works well without being intrusive. Overall, 'Image of the Fendahl' feels like the triumphant last gasp of the Hinchcliffe era and as one of Doctor Who's last real stabs at gothic horror it is a fine end to the era.

'Underworld' has a very bad reputation. Indeed, there are fans who consider this to be the nadir of the Tom Baker era, although personally I'd much rather watch this than 'Revenge of the Cybermen', 'The Android Invasion' of 'The Invisible Enemy'. In fact, in my opinion 'Underworld' is nowhere near as bad as some fans claim, but this is damning with faint praise; the fact remains that it still isn't very good. 

The basic premise of 'Underworld' - ancient travellers on a quest for a lost artefact - is basically sound, but then once you start plagiarizing Greek mythology you're probably in pretty safe territory. Unfortunately, 'Underworld' plays it too safely and rather than drawing on mythology for its inspiration, it simply embarks on a straight retelling of Jason and the Argonauts, which results in a story that feels mind-numbingly unoriginal. I suppose Baker and Martin deserve credit for at least acknowledging their sources, but the final scene in which the Doctor tells Leela about Jason and hypothesizes that legends of the past are actually prophesizes of the future is so glib as to be thoroughly irritating. Frustratingly, many Tom Baker era Doctor Who stories actually work best when their roots are showing, but 'Underworld' is an exception to this. This is particularly disappointing considering that Episode One does have some promise; the revelations about Time Lord intervention in Minyan history are potentially interesting, but this aspect of the story is swept under the carpet very speedily, after the Doctor cheerfully announces that he is a Time Lord and offers to help Jackson and his crew. There is some minor disgruntlement initially, but soon the Doctor is pitching in to the Quest with enthusiasm. 

The unoriginality of 'Underworld' is compounded by the fact that it seems to plagiarize not only Greek mythology, but also recent Doctor Who. On a minor note, 'Underworld' is the second story in a row in which the Doctor arrives in an established society and engineers its complete upheaval (and in this case actual disintegration) within mere hours. This is a trivial and probably coincidental issue, but is rather noticeable when watching the series (or even just the season) in order. More significantly, a large part of the story contains a race of people that is descended from a spaceship full of colonists, has degenerated into specific antagonistic groups, has forgotten its origins, and worships the insane and megalomaniac ship's computer. And only a year after 'The Face of Evil', too. I'd like to think that this too is mere coincidence, but unintentional or not, it makes 'Underworld' seem even more derivative. To add insult to injury, having plagiarized the generally very good 'The Face of Evil', 'Underoworld' doesn't even manage to repeat its success. The Doctor has virtually no difficulty in helping the Minyans to obtain the race banks, outwitting the Oracle and its Seers with ease and failing to get into any memorably danger along the way. This is arguably also true of 'The Sun Makers', but that was carried along by a witty script and decent characterisation. 'Underworld' is just boring. There is considerable padding throughout, as demonstrated by the cliffhangers to Episodes Two and Three; the Episode Two cliffhanger is pathetic, since the Doctor spends about five minutes wandering around in the gas-filled tunnels whilst tinkering with the fumigation apparatus, announcing that he intends to reverse the flow of gas. Consequently, when this is what happens at the start of Episode Three, it scarcely comes as a surprise. The Episode Three cliffhanger is not as dull, but is very contrived; the idea of entering the P7E via the crusher is briefly introduced just long enough to provide the cliffhanger, before being instantly aborted at the start of Episode Four when a convenient ventilation duct is located instead. 

Part of the reason that 'Underworld' is so boring is that totally lacks any kind of memorable villain. Back when I reviewed 'The War Machines' I claimed that I do not like megalomaniac computers as villains. I was later forced to back-pedal when I reviewed 'The Green Death' and 'The Face of Evil', but my argument regains lost ground with 'Underworld', since the Oracle (and its attendant Seers) are thoroughly uninteresting. Even the script seems to admit this, with the Doctor dismissing it as "another insane object, another self-aggrandising artefact!" Well-acted and interesting supporting characters might break such colossal tedium, but this is alas not the case. Alan Lake's bombastic Herrack is rather entertaining, and James Maxwell manages to convey the conflicting weariness and dedication of Jackson very well, but Jonathon Newth and Imogen Bickford-Smith get very little to do as Orfe and Tala, respectively. The Trogs are so apathetic and boring that it is difficult to care about them and the Guards are stock thugs. So given all this criticism, why do I think that 'Underworld' is better than its reputation?

There are several reasons. Firstly, the plot of 'Underworld' is dull, but solid. There are no real plot-holes, although as usual for a Baker and Martin script there is some very bad science on display, most notably the lack of gravity at the centre of the planet and the idea that the Trogs and Guards can survive on processed rock (although they probably don't suffer from any iron or mineral deficiencies…). In addition, the concept of transporting large numbers of people for several centuries in a small spacecraft is so ludicrous that it falls apart under any amount of scrutiny. Nevertheless, the story largely progresses from start to finish in a logical fashion. Secondly, amidst everything else, the regulars put in good performances. This might come as no surprise, but bear in mind that Tom Baker seemed very bored with Baker and Martin's last script for the series, whereas here he puts in a rather manic and enthusiastic performance. Louise Jameson also gets plenty to do as Leela pitches in to the various battles with her usual relish, and I also like her pacification and subsequent recovery in Episode One. K9 also plays a significant role, as he takes control of the Minyan spaceship, guiding it through the last stages of its quest to find the P7E. 

The final reason that 'Underworld' is not as bad as some claim is the production. The model work is very good, as are the sets of the Minyan spaceship and the P7E. Most notably however, the notoriously bad CSO actually works quite well. The main drawback it displays is the lack of the depth of field, but the fuzzy line that plagued the technique during the Pertwee era is mercifully absent. Nevertheless, whilst I can find positive aspects in 'Underworld', these are not enough to salvage it. It isn't the worst Tom Baker story, it isn't even the worst story of Season Fifteen, but as a cure for insomnia it is unrivalled.

'The Power of Kroll' has a rather strange status. It is a rather mediocre affair, but the relatively simple plot is essentially sound; it's main failing lies in the fact that, written as it is by Robert Holmes, it should have been much, much better. 

The plot of 'The Power of Kroll' concerns the conflict between the Swampies of Delta Three, displaced once from their home by colonial humans and under threat a second time as their new home is discovered to be ripe for exploitation. Opposing them are the aforementioned colonists who crew the methane refinery on the planet and whose belligerent leader Thawn is keen to remove them from the equation. To this end, he has secretly arranged for them to be armed, ostensibly by the Sons of Earth, a sympathetic terrorist organisation that believes that humanity should abandon its colonies and return to its ancestral home. Having armed them with guns that he knows to be useless, he then has an excuse to wipe them out should they use these weapons to attack the refinery. Added to this mix is the largest monster ever to have appeared in Doctor Who on television, which the Swampies worship as a god, but which is basically a monstrous giant squid swollen to the proportions of a leviathan by the fourth segment of the Key to Time. This plot is solid enough (and in fact is largely recycled for the far more popular 'The Caves of Androzani') and lacks any noticeable holes, but unfortunately is saddled with a surprisingly poor script. 

The problem with 'The Power of Kroll' is that it is both dull and humourless. The latter shortcoming is especially surprising from a writer who gave us 'The Ribos Operation' earlier in the season, a story boasting some sparking dialogue and considerable wit. 'The Power of Kroll' is not Holmes' worst script for the series ('The Space Pirates' still holds that dubious honour), and it isn't even the worst script of Season Sixteen (more on that next time…), but totally fails to engage me on any real level. Partly this is because the characterisation, usually Holmes' strong point, is extremely weak. The Swampies, despite being green skinned, are textbook natives out of bad and patronizing British colonial fiction; they have a credible motivation, but their predilection for human sacrifice and in the case of Ranquin, manipulative politics, renders them unsympathetic. This wouldn't be a problem if they were actually interesting, but they aren't. Most of them don't say or do anything except chant "Kroll" repeatedly, and their main spokesman, John Abineri's Ranquin, is portrayed as a clichйd religious zealot. Their human ally Rohm-Dutt, a mercenary gunrunner secretly working for Thawn, might potentially have worked, but Glyn Owen puts in such an disinterested performance that he seems half asleep, and as such any emotion that the character might have had is completely lost. 

The colonists are even worse. Neil McCarthy, who previously appeared as Barnham in 'The Mind of Evil', puts in an adequate performance, but he doesn't have much to work with. A grim ruthless psychopath might be more realistic than, for example, Bruce Purchase's extravagant Pirate Captain, but is far less entertaining to watch, and 'The Power of Kroll' badly needs livening up. Thawn might have worked better if he had grander motivation, but as the story stands he's simply a xenophobic thug whose initial motivation (exterminating the Swampies) is quickly sidelined once he discovers that he's got a gargantuan killer squid to deal with. Even his death scene is rubbish, falling into the "blink and you'll miss it category". The other humans are even worse, Phillip Madoc's grumpy performance as Fenner probably giving rise to the myth that he was promised the role of Thawn but got cheated out of it, and Grahame Mallard's Harg is utterly forgettable. Worst of all is Dugeen; with K9 TARDIS bound due to the watery setting, John Leeson instead takes a human role and puts in a poor performance, although the script doesn't really help. His sudden revelation that he is a member or sympathizer of The Sons of Earth is horribly acted and seems to have been forced into the story with a crowbar as an afterthought. 

Normally, when the supporting characters disappoint, the regulars can be relied on, but given the lacklustre script neither Tom Baker nor Mary Tamm get the chance to shine. Baker does his best, but mostly all he gets to do is wander around and explain the plot to Romana, who after her initial abduction and rescue does nothing useful whatsoever. Except of course listen whilst the Doctor explains the plot. The almost total lack of humour is unfortunate, as it might have salvaged the story, but when the best Holmes offers is the Doctor's anecdote about Dame Nellie Melba, there isn't much hope. 

Where the script does triumph is in the handling of Kroll. Having been challenged to create the series' largest ever monster, Holmes scripts Kroll as a big animal, writing intelligent speculation about the creature's feeding habits and life cycle for his characters, and providing a decent explanation for its size and longevity. Indeed Kroll is generally surprisingly effective; the model creature looks rather good, and even its life-sized tentacles (a notoriously difficult visual effect to achieve successfully) look better than they might have done. The split-screen effect used to show Kroll looming on the horizon is rather jarring, but in a series with an unpleasant history of bad CSO this too could have looked worse. These reasonable production values help to rescue the story to a degree, as does the excellent East Anglian location filming. Sadly however, this location footage is home to the Swampies, middle-aged actors painted green who never look like anything other than middle-aged actors painted green. 

In summary then, 'The Power of Kroll' is a rather middling affair, not all bad but displaying considerable drawbacks. After the generally high quality of this up to this point it is very disappointing. On the other hand, compared with the season finale, it is an unparalleled work of genius…

Episode One: 

It's hard for a first episode to be poor, when all the Doctor has to do is arrive and witness some intriguing events. Intriguing events here include a burial, a wandering man, a ship that arrives and burrows into the earth, and finally the Daleks, though as usual, the title has given them away. The Movellans are serene cats in disco suits, and we don't know why they hate the Daleks. 

Episode Two: 

Suddenly, this goes downhill fast. I'll take the "Death Comes to Time" Timelords any day over Romana crying when "interrogated" with a few simple questions. It fits well with her plan, however, to drop dead after a half day's work, which the Daleks seem to believe without checking. Watch carefully for the Dalek who skips on his way into the Dalek bridge. The Daleks were digging, it turns out, for Davros, but the Doctor knows how to get there in seconds (um, OK I'll buy that I guess). Davros, having been exterminated by the Daleks, and then having sat there for centuries, wiggles his fingers for the episode climax. My God, has he been looking for the TV remote all these years?

Episode Three: 

After the rhyming Dalek ("seek, locate, do not deviate"), there is a little tension and suspense here, with the Doctor trying to hold the Daleks off simply by threatening to kill Davros. At last, in episode three, the Daleks show they're evil (a new viewer to the show would have been waiting all this time to understand what the big deal is about them) by exterminating prisoners to get the Doctor to cooperate. The Movellans are serene cats in disco suits, and we don't know whey they hate the Daleks, or why they put Romana in a tube with a bomb. Except, perhaps, to draw out the Doctor, who they suddenly seem to have decided is a better objective than Davros. We'll find out in… 

Episode Four: 

The Movellans are defeated because no matter how many times it happens, they never learn to prevent anyone snatching their exposed power packs. The Daleks, having been cruel enough to exterminate prisoners as a pressure tactic in the previous episode, are once again ridiculous. First, they allow the Doctor to sneak up on Davros, and then when one Dalek does stand in the Doctor's way, a hat defeats it. The other Daleks charge towards the Movellan ship, frantically repeating the idea that nothing can be allowed to stand in their way. Meanwhile, nothing stands in their way. The Doctor plays with Davros's arm and gets him to blow up his Daleks, while Romana is able to kick the last Movellan apart (presumably this is because he was wounded, I guess) and of course, snatch his power pack. 

Analysis:

After a promising beginning, the story becomes a silly and tedious affair. The conclusion is rushed, and a great deal goes unexplained, like who created the Movellans or where they came from. The idea of the two war machines at a logical impasse is interesting, but not really enough to sustain the story, or provide a payoff at the end for the viewer, in terms of a meaningful story. And while Genesis of the Daleks had something to say (in terms of showing us the stupid prejudice and hatred that gave birth to the Daleks), this story portrays them as incompetents who can't open a closet door, never mind conquer the universe. And the Movellans aren't any better. You wonder why the Doctor and Romana don't just leave. Fortunately, in Resurrection of the Daleks, with Peter Davision, some of the old menace would be back, and the sense of tension and danger much higher. Destiny of the Daleks remains a somewhat nonsensical and only somewhat entertaining interlude between those two stories. Oh, and it has the wrong guy as Davros.

When I reviewed 'The Creature From the Pit', I noted that after 'City of Death' the air of general silliness starts to extend beyond the Doctor to other characters. Whilst this was largely successful in that story, by 'Nightmare of Eden' it seriously undermines a potential serious plot that should, Doctor aside, have been played straight. It is doubly unfortunate that having co-scripted some of my least favourite Doctor Who stories of the series entire run, Baker delivers a potentially interesting script that suffers at the hands of the production team, but sadly that is what happens.

Firstly, I'd like to get a discussion of Vraxoin out of the way. Having elected to lecture the audience on the dangers of drugs, Baker faces the constraints of a four-part Doctor Who story, originally broadcast in a Saturday teatime slot. This presents a problem; on the one hand, there isn't really time to create an intelligent discourse on drug abuse, and on the other, there are limits to what could be depicted in a series with an audience containing a large number of children. Consequently, the writers resort to a simple "drugs are bad, m'kay?" message with Vraxoin their fictional stand in for real narcotics. And therein lies the problem. Drugs are fun. Addictive and destructive as they often are, most people who use drugs do not start taking them with the actual intention of committing suicide, they take them for recreational purposes. Vraxoin however, does not seem like fun; after a brief and seemingly pleasant high, it immediately causes such massive withdrawal pains that another dose is immediately required, and this is implied to lead very rapidly to death. As drugs go, it doesn't sound very marketable. Given the restrictions of the series format, I doubt Baker had few other options open to them in getting their message across, but frankly I'd much rather that they had just told another story instead of venturing into the territory of unconvincing bullshit. 

Regardless of this, Baker could potentially have made an interesting exploration of why people turn to drugs and why people like Tryst deal in drugs, especially from the point of view of the twenty-first century, when an increasing number of students are apparently resorting to drug dealing and prostitution to subsidize their income. In all fairness to him, he makes the effort, but Tryst's weak arguments about his need to fund his work and the ability of customers to make their own choices are utterly undermined by Lewis Fiander's ghastly portrayal of the character. Given the role of the story's principle villain and would-be ruthless drug dealer, Fiander elects to portray the character as a shambling buffoon with a ludicrous accent. His rationale for this escapes me and it may just be that he's a really bad actor, but his absurd performance robs the character of any sense of motivation whatsoever, as he descends into clichйd eccentric scientist mode. To add insult to injury, Fiander seems to think his performance is amusing, but it is merely painful. Geoffrey Bateman's performance as Dymond is somewhat better, played deadly straight and full of nervousness and anger, but still fairly unmemorable. 

Inappropriate silliness abounds. After his excellent performance as Jack Tyler in 'Image of the Fendahl', Geoffrey Hinsliff goes and spoils himself as Waterguard Fisk, another terrible performance and another wasted opportunity; as an official representative of a so-called pleasure planet the government of which seems to bandy about the death penalty very easily, Fisk could have been used to make interesting (or at least, vaguely convincing) points about fascism and police corruption. Instead, like Tryst, he's portrayed as a cretin, who utters such cringe worthy lines as "criminals are like that" and struts about in a horribly over-the-top fashion. I would mention Costa, but he's only present to give Fisk someone to spout expository dialogue at and does nothing else of note. 

Annoyingly, despite my reservations about the way the drug plotline is handled, the plot of 'Nightmare of Eden' is reasonably engaging and pretty much watertight, as the Doctor and Romana seek to separate the ships, return the Mandrels to the CET machine, and absolve themselves of blame for drug running. But the entire production is so crass that it becomes disappointingly pedestrian, and for the avid fan in the video and DVD age, the fact that the CET machine is little more than a bargain basement Miniscope robs the story of what might otherwise have been an interesting gimmick. The jungle set of Eden looks very artificial, which after the luscious jungle of 'The Creature From the Pit' is especially obvious, and most of the other sets are just bog-standard corridors. The model work is passable, but forgettable in a season boasting the Jagaroth and Movellan ships, and the costumes of the crewmembers on board the Empress are laughable. The fact that the incidental music made so little impression on me that I can't remember if it was good or not is not a particularly good sign either, although at least it isn't intrusive. The Mandrels are not as bad in my opinion as some fans seem to think, although their overly long arms look woeful. I do however like the fact that their big heads, huge glowing eyes, and strange mouths seem like a laudable attempt to avoid the usual humanoid in a suit look, and it does make them look alien. 

There are however some worthy aspects to 'Nightmare of Eden'; David Daker (previously Irongron in the marvellous 'The Time Warrior') is very good as Captain Rigg and portrays Rigg's drug-addled state later in the story quite well (certainly better than Stephen Jenn does as Secker). Barry Andrews is quite good as Stott, slightly compensating for Fisk and Costa. The direction is competent enough, and I like the fact that it seems to be poking fun at the series' limitations, as Tom Baker chases Barry Andrews through the same set three times in a row in Episode Two. Dymond's space suit, and the fact that he uses a shuttle craft to travel between ships is a nice reminder that the story is set in space, which the cheap cop-out of a transmat would have lacked (I am not, incidentally, suggesting that a transmat is automatically a cop-out, just that I feel it would have been in this instance). 

Finally, there are the regulars. As usual, Tom Baker clowns around as the Doctor, whilst Lalla Ward plays things relatively straight, and K9 makes sounds haughty from the sidelines. Also as usual, this generally works fine, but whilst the Doctor's lines about Galactic Salvage Insurance in Episode One are rather funny, his notorious "Oh, my fingers! My arms! My legs! My everything!" in Episode Four merely emphasizes the fact that the story has descended into farce. This is a shame, since Baker proves adept at conveying the Doctor's contempt for Tryst's activities and his attempts to justify them, as exemplified by his quiet "Go away" as Tryst is arrested at the end. K9 and Romana both get plenty to do too, and it occurred to me whilst watching this story that K9's tendency to soliloquize is a perfect vehicle for plot exposition without it sounding forced. Overall however, 'Nightmare of Eden' is a failure, a potentially decent story let down by lacklustre production, some bad lines, and some inappropriate acting. Which is perhaps ironic, given that the following story combines pantomime slapstick, a silly monster, farcical dialogue and a villain who is perhaps more over the top than any other villain in Doctor Who's entire run, and still manages to be enormously entertaining…