"The Tenth Planet", whether it likes it or not, is a pivotal story in the history of the series. I use a term like "whether it likes it or not" because I'm pretty sure the production team, at the time, had little or no idea just how important this story would be. In their minds, they were probably just trying to shoot a good little action/adventure with a neat plot contrivance at its end that would write out its ill lead actor. They seem to have no idea that this story would not only set in place a crucial element of the show's format, it would also introduce one of the most popular monsters the show would ever see. 

And that's part of what makes The Tenth Planet such a good story. Oftentimes, deliberate attempts to make things grandiose fail miserably on television. I flinch when I hear terms like "season finale" used to describe an upcoming episode. For the plain and simple reason that good storytelling should not depend on when the story is placed within the context of a series. It should just be a good story. And the fact that this particular tale is slotted second in a new season (rather than placed at the end of a season as most other regeneration stories were) is a good indicator already that this is the production team's genuine intent.

So, did their earnestness pay off? 

I'd like to think so. If nothing else, it's a somewhat revolutionary tale in context of the series. We go into the slightly far-flung future in Tenth Planet. And, unlike the UNIT tales of the 70s where we're never a hundred percent sure whether or not these are present-tense adventures, it's clearly established by having the characters see a calendar on the wall that the year is 1986. And, anal fanboy that I am, I'm always glad when an episode states the year clearly like that. It just makes chronology so much easier! Now, because we're definitely in the future, some very clear attempts are made to depict this. International teams and successful space programs run abound in this tale. Along with special bombs and high-tech computers. Of course, many of these predictions are wildly inaccurate - but it's still nice to see the series making a genuine attempt to create an interesting future for our world. It's a bit like what the classic Star Trek series tried to do - but without hitting you quite so hard over the head with it! In Tenth Planet, the conventions are all there but its main intent still focusses more on trying to tell us the latest action tale in Doctor Who rather than portraying highly controversial inter-racial kisses and suchlike! And it was good that the story kept this focus. Cause there is some crackling good action in this tale. Particularly since it was made on the usual shoe-string budget.

There are, of course, many conventions present in the plot that would become quite standard for the show. Particularly in the future stories Pedler and Davis would pen. We have the leader of an important operation creating a plot conflict because of his personality flaws. We have the multi-racial crew (who, often times, are portraying insultingly bad stereotypes). And, of course, the notorious "base under seige" premise. We even have women making coffee! But all these are being seen for the first time in this story and that's what makes it so revolutionary. The show has never really quite gone in these directions before and it's great fun to watch it "dip its toe in the pool" during this story.

Of course, some of the conventions it explores never really get used again. Even though the drama created in those conventions was quite effective to watch. Both the sequences aboard the rocket ship and the U.N. office make for some interesting drama. Especially when you consider how simplistic they are. Especially the stuff with the two astronauts. I mean, really, they're just two guys sitting in chairs with a few moving props and some shaky cameras and mood music. And yet, we feel their struggle and get emotionally involved with it. And, even with Cybermen and regeneration affecting the impact of this story - those two poor schmucks stuck up in space when Mondas comes along is one of the things that remains indelibly stamped in my memory when I think of this tale. Some well-executed drama there. 

The other extremely memorable aspect of this story, outside of the obvious first regeneration and first Cybermen appearance, is General Cutler. He tends to work just as much for the story as against. He's a hard-ass with some interesting undertones to him. And his portrayal is very effective in conveying that. But, unlike the leader of operations that we see in the Moonbase, he needed a bit more reigning in sometimes. Cutler does get a tad too "hammed up" in places and we have a hard time believing someone so unstable would be allowed to run such an important base. Still, overall, he's a highly effective element of the story. His character carries a lot of weight on his shoulders. And he does it quite well.

But what about some of the stuff the story is truly remembered for? Is the regeneration as good as the nostalgia surrounding it? Do the Cybermen really inspire menace in their first appearance? The answer, in my opinion, is a resounding "yes" to the first question and a somewhat less resounding "yes" to the latter. 

The costumes given to the Cybermen are very quickly scrapped and re-invented for the next story they're featured in. This was definitely a good move. Though the costumes aren't complete crap, they are as silly-looking as they are chilling. If nothing else, those chestplates are far too cumbersome! And the voices are changed too. Another move that I felt was smart. The weird warble and "unusual lip action" (as Colin Baker described it in "The Early Years") also work as much against the Cybermen as they do for. 

But their on-screen impact is still very strong, overall. And their cold logic is in great evidence. Which is still the strongest impression they make in this story. They are here to wipe out the Earth in order to maintain their survival. There is no desire to gloat or conquer. They're just doing what they do and nothing more. And this is what makes them far scarier than most of the monsters the show has introduced us to over the years. In fact, I'd even go so far to say that I like the Cybermen just a teensy bit better than the Daleks. Cause, if nothing else, it does seem as though much greater thought went into their conception. Hats off to Pedler for that. He came up with a great idea and fleshed it out well. 

As for the Doctor's first regeneration. Well, fan reaction to this seems to divide into two camps. One seems upset that Hartnell wasn't given more involvement in the story since this is his swan song. Especially since he spends all of episode three unconscious. The other camp feels this was a good idea since it really conveys the weakness his imminent regeneration is causing in him. I'm a member of the second camp. The First Doctor is dying, and the focus should've been placed on that rather than getting him to single-handledly save the universe like he did in Logopolis or participate in a twenty minute car chase like in Planet of Spiders. Those elements work okay in the context of those stories, don't get me wrong. But here, the Doctor is simply regenerating cause his body has worn out and portraying that is far more important than making him a superhero. And it makes those last few minutes in the console room highly dramatic. Even a bit touching. 

So, to me, The Tenth Planet does classify very well as a classic tale. Not just because of what happens in it but because its execution is, overall, highly effective. Even more so, the fact that it doesn't really seem to be trying to be a classic makes it even more enjoyable. It's a good story first. And a pivotal point in the series, second. And those priorities get it to rise above some of the more "intentional" classics the series has produced.

Sorry for stating the obvious, but The Tenth Planet is one of the five most important stories the show ever did, along with 100 000 B.C., The Daleks, The War Games and The Deadly Assassin (just my list, by the way, feel free to make your own). The reason I mention it is that it’s the worst story of those five: it’s frequently viewed as one of the programme’s most enduring classics but for my money it undershoots ever so slightly. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a strong story and better than the other Doctor’s swan songs bar The War Games and The Caves Of Androzani, but it’s not made of gold. Part of the reason for this was out of the production’s hands and I’ll deal with that later; equally though Kit Pedler and Gerry Davis weren’t quite the writing team yet that made the razor-sharp The Tomb Of The Cybermen, and Davis doesn’t quite do Pedler’s idea justice. That said, it’s still a very good story when not viewed in the context of its slightly inflated reputation. Most of the criticisms are levelled against the second half though, so it gets off to a very strong start.

It begins with some above average stock footage that for once doesn’t look like it was found in a cesspit and some unique titles. They are the only really well made ones of all the specially made titles too, not being tedious, amusingly dated or fit-inducing. However, their inability to spell the writers’ names correctly does give them a certain amateurish, home-made feel.

This is a rare example of a depiction of the future that isn’t half bad, with ordinary dress (we’d have to wait until Planet Of Evil before we got spacesuits with shoulder pads and flares) and a multinational crew of the polar base (a Pedler / Davis trademark). However, I have to hand it to The Discontinuity Guide: they are right to point out that it is an all-male cast save for Polly and Wigner’s secretary (whose one line, “toot sweet”, leads me to wonder how seriously she was taking it). In fact, I should expand on this by pointing out that in all three of their collaborations the writers show women making coffee. It wouldn’t be until The Wheel In Space that a woman would be seen in a position of genuine authority in a Cyberman story. I’m no feminist, but…

The swirly incidental music seems a bit melodramatic now and is the kind of thing I’d expect to find on a comedy programme, although this does have the first use of the awesome Cyberman theme. The girly pictures on the wall of the sleeping quarters are really quite radical for the time (although they don’t do Pedler and Davies any favours), and Tito is stereotyped in the extreme: I wince at every “Mama Mia!” he screams. William Hartnell performs well in this story, belying his illness. Ben and Polly are also good and were a very strong duo, although the hero / damsel in distress characterisations date them badly. Still, they’re a good looking, fun pair and it’s a shame so little of their time survives.

It’s right that a police box wouldn’t be recognised in 1986 (no one was watching Doctor Who by then, you see). The story is generally well-directed although there are more boom mike shadows than usual. The tracking room is an impressive set and location of some very dramatic scenes, although at this stage I’m wondering why the American Sergeant is suddenly their best friend. The moon landing description was an in joke made funnier by future events, although the idea that it would still be continuing in 1986 was strangely optimistic.

The plot’s a latecomer in this story, with the first episode being almost half over before anything other than initial scene setting happens. It’s a great, enigmatic start though, with a mysterious force affecting the crew of a space craft. What could it be? Nigel Kneale’s lawyers would very much like to know. Even in 1966 though the idea of Mondas not being detected until it had almost clonked into Earth like a cue ball is hard to credit and an early example of the flaws in Pedler’s and Davis’s embryonic writing partnership, and the fact that everyone is arguing about whether the continents match Earth when really the planet is simply Earth upside down makes me sometimes feel that this story works better on audio from the start (not to mention that it’s scientific nonsense, which Dr. Pedler should have known). Barclay goes over the plot points in very simple, childish logic (“do you suppose that massive planet might have something to do with the mysterious gravitational anomalies?”), but “we must get them down!” is a dramatic line well delivered by David Dodimead. It’s also interesting that the Doctor knows of Mondas already: it is implied in The Five Doctors that the Cybermen where tried out in the Death Zone in the ancient histories of Gallifrey…[pause while head is removed from backside]…it’s nice how these things unintentionally interlock, isn’t it? (The Tenth Planet and The Five Doctors by the way, not my head and…oh never mind).

The modelwork is good (better than The Moonbase’s), and the Cybermen’s introduction is terrific, with three mysterious figures coming out of the snow, initially too far away to be seen clearly. The final pan up the arm is also good, even if the Cybermen in close up do look a little silly. The only real sore point is the way they shed their cloaks but pause dramatically before killing the humans, which just looks cheesy.

The first scene with the Cybermen is well written, dramatic and possibly the most important of the story (barring the regeneration scene) as it establishes backstory that makes the Cybermen such good monsters, and also that plays a significant role in most subsequent stories featuring them. Here is the major problem with them though: their costumes, while innovative, are cumbersome and too delicate to be practical meaning that they are largely reduced to standing around talking. Their voices, while original and unique, do get irritating after a while. The idea of their mouths hanging open while the words stream out is brilliant, but the synchronisation is off a bit. One of their best features however is technically a goof: the actors’ eyes can be seen behind the black gauze, making it appear that their vestiges of their human form are trapped beneath far more effectively than David Banks’s silly silver chin in Earthshock. However, in terms of visuals the sellotape round their heads thoroughly torpedoes their credibility. What really makes them here is their motivation: they are interested only in their survival, not conquest like their caricatured 1980s versions. Their total lack of malice makes them all the scarier; this is what led to their downfall in their colour stories. The Cyberman’s line of “that was really most unfortunate” seems a bit out of character with their later versions (but David Banks’s book Cybermen justifies this excellently. No pun intended.).

Locked up, Ben talks to himself: an example of poor writing, where they can only get a character out of trouble by having him exhibit signs of insanity in order to advance the plot. Davis might have been a good script editor for quality producer Innes Lloyd, but at this stage he struggled a bit when (co) helming an entire story. Also, the Cyberman’s intolerance to light undermines their claim to physical superiority somewhat.

The destruction of the spaceship shows the power of understatement. Cutler’s son affects the plot only indirectly, instead being important mainly for the purposes of characterisation. It does turn General Cutler into an ‘insane leader’ clichй though (okay so I ripped that off The Discontinuity Guide as well, but a good point is a good point). The cliffhanger to part two also shows the importance of dialogue and radar screen in Doctor Who, making things that could never be shown – it also shows how effective it can be, and the power of the imagination (although I don’t call that a formation).

Episode three is where it really starts to falter. While a lot of this is down to Hartnell’s illness and so not something I should really criticise, I can’t get away from the fact that it does affect the story regardless of the lack of blame. For example, Barclay’s sudden acquisition of a backbone points to a very fast rewrite that didn’t have time to iron out the wrinkles. There are lots of minor fluffs in this episode, as the cast struggle with lines they have had to learn and rehearse too quickly. 

The Z-Bomb would be extremely poor if it was actually used; instead through its underuse it becomes an effective, omnipresent threat in the name of a saviour. Even given this though the episode is still very much an episode three, filling the gap betweens set up and climax. The Cybermen, for example, are superfluous and only in it to fulfil some sort of need to have them in the episode no matter what. There are some good stunts though, particularly Ben falling over the barrier. The countdown to launch is a good moment of tension, but countdowns usually are. They are a cheap thrill, but they do the job.

The Doctor’s sudden arrival out of nowhere at the very beginning of episode four shows the crudeness of the rewrite further – although he really goes to town for his last performance, and some clips still exist of some iconic lines. In a very out-of-character scene though, he thanks the Cybermen for killing Cutler. Also of not is Ben’s pronunciation of Mondas as “Mandos”; is this a fluff I wonder, or intentional?

The Cyberman that takes over from Wigner has the most annoying voice I’ve ever heard (the one at the base is just about bearable). Also, it’s retrospectively annoying to see they have a different weakness in every story: radiation, gravity, the cold / shoddy batteries, quick-set plastic, emotions and of course gold. Radiation makes particularly little sense as surely they could augment themselves with material that would block it from their organic components.

The Uranium rods, that just happen to be in the same room as them, are a contrivance. When the heroes escape they sit round and talk, waiting for the plot to resolve itself. I don’t have a problem with the Doctor not being involved: people complain that Hartnell should have more to do in his “epic” finale, but that is based on the standards of what came later and doesn’t therefore hold much water in my mind. My problem is that nobody at all has any fundamental involvement, which I can’t even say about Revelation Of The Daleks. The destruction of Mondas was apparently a rubbish effect, but I’d like to have seen it anyway. 

After this we have the fantastic line of “it’s far from being all over” followed by the first regeneration, and I’m truly glad that clip exists. Simple but good, miles better than the rubbish Pertwee – Baker one in 1974, while not as visually impressive as the 1980s ones it has the added bonus of being completely unexpected and unexplained, surely one of the craziest ideas ever inserted into any narrative. Without it the show would never have survived, and it’s still as mind-boggling a concept today as it was forty years ago.

Well, what can I say? The Tenth Planet is a strong story, providing a good introduction for the Cybermen, a good departure for Hartnell and a better foundation for Patrick Troughton – not to mention a hundred minutes of generally solid entertainment. But an absolute gem? Sadly, no.

The Power of the Daleks is about just that – power, and how it can twist you. Central to this idea is the character of Bragen, the security chief of the colony on Vulcan, Lesterson, the colony’s head scientist, and his assistant researcher Janley. Shortly after his first regeneration, The Doctor lands on the planet Vulcan with his companions Ben and Polly, and quickly discovers a human colony bristling with more political intrigue than The Manchurian Candidate or the American congress, whichever you prefer.

The Examiner from Earth is murdered quite literally just after introducing himself, and The Doctor, possibly hoping to bring the murderer to justice, poses as the Examiner to ingratiate himself with the colony and investigate the place himself. This would have made a pretty good plot for a story as it is, but the introduction of the crashed Dalek factory ship that cranks up the danger level. The Daleks play excellent manipulators here, deviously manoeuvring the humans into giving them the power they need to rebuild a (presumably cloned, judging from their manufacturing machinery) army of Daleks. The Doctor’s warnings of the threat posed by the Daleks go unheeded, as humanity has presumably never publicly had contact with Daleks before, so none of the colonists understand their nature as xenophobic killers.

But perhaps the most important reason why the colonists fail to understand the danger of the Daleks until it is too late, is because the principal movers and shakers on Vulcan see the Daleks as a means to further their own ends. Lesterson sees the Daleks as enormously intelligent servants who can help solve many of the economic problems of the colony, as does Vulcan’s Governor Hensell. Bragen and Janley, meanwhile, believe they can use the Daleks as weapons in their plot to overthrow Hensell’s government. All of them are destroyed when the Daleks, having gotten what they wanted, turn on their former protectors. Lesterson, Hensell, Bragen, and Janley all believe they have power over the Daleks. And that hubris destroys them, as well as Vulcan.

Bragen is the most nakedly ambitious of all the characters in Power of the Daleks. It is slowly unveiled during the course of the story that he is the one behind all the political problems on Vulcan. He successfully has his most dangerous enemy among the Vulcan government, Deputy Governor Quinn, imprisoned. We eventually learn that he masterminded the political instability on Vulcan, having turned a group of disaffected fellow colonists into an armed rebel group. The help of the Daleks allows him to speed up his plan for conquest, taking over from Hensell while the Governor is on a trip to the rural areas of the colony and killing him on his return. To add further to his status as baddest humanoid villain of this story, when he has established himself as dictator of the colony, he orders the murder of the entire rebel group who put him in charge, so that no challenges to his rule remain. The way writer David Whitaker slowly reveals Bragen as the source of all the political uprisings on Vulcan is brilliant, as you see layer after layer of his deception peeled away. 

Janley is, I think, the most interesting supporting character in Power of the Daleks. We first meet her as the vocal leader of political dissent on Vulcan, trying to encourage Lesterson to join the rebel group, and going to ruthless lengths to use the Daleks for her own revolutionary ends. We see how fanatical her devotion to her cause truly is when she conceals Resno’s death in an early experiment on the Daleks from Lesterson. Then uses it as blackmail to prevent the scientist from interfering with her plans. Later, when she is celebrating her victory with Bragen, he casually informs her that the rebels are all to be killed to consolidate his own hold on Vulcan’s government. She is crestfallen here, as she realizes that her ideals have only succeeded in putting a dictator in power. Yet she remains blinded by her original expectations of the Daleks. After the Daleks begin their massacre of the colony, she still believes that they could aid her in defeating the guards. It is Janley who leads one of the Daleks to her squad of rebels, expecting help fighting Bragen’s guards, and she is the most shocked when all her compatriots are exterminated. A minor note – some of what Janley says about the problems of the colony can be interpreted as having vaguely communist overtones. I’m not sure if this was intentional on Whitaker’s part or not, but communist revolutions on colonies in the future sounds like a good idea for the focus of some future Doctor Who story.

Lesterson too dreams of power, but scientific – not political – power. It is through this means that he is most amazed by the Daleks. He is increasingly impressed by their intelligence, and most horrified at his fairly early discovery of the malevolence. Lesterson begins the story just as arrogant and self-centred as the rest of the supporting cast. He doesn’t care about the political instability of Vulcan simply because he doesn’t find it as interesting as the Dalek spacecraft. He wants to use the Daleks as slaves, whether in the mines or as computer engineers. The way he speaks about the scientific breakthroughs he can make with the Dalek’s help shows that he is also keen for prestige in the scientific community, dreaming of a legacy like Einstein or Turing. Either way, he sees himself as holding power – in the literal sense, as he initially controls their flow of electricity – over the Daleks. When he finally sees the Dalek production line at the end of episode four, he understands that they are manipulating him. The Daleks, in allowing the power schemes of the other characters to come true, have taken his power away. Really, Lesterson is the first victim of the Daleks, even though he is one of the last in the story to die. He wants power over the Daleks, but by episode five, the Daleks have power over him. And this is what drives him mad. His last lines before he is exterminated is almost a mockery of the Dalek’s earlier facade of servitude, saying to them, in the Dalek’s own mechanical inflections, “I am your servant.” Lesterson admits that the Daleks have beaten him, but only while allowing The Doctor to destroy them once and for all.

Ah, yes, The Doctor. The most cartoonish of Troughton’s facial expressions on the telesnaps just accentuate what’s gone. But it’s his performance in this story that was the make-or-break moment for Doctor Who. The first ten minutes of Power of the Daleks is probably the most important ten minutes of the show’s history, because if viewers couldn’t maintain their faith in The Doctor, the show would never have lasted much longer. Ben and Polly’s reactions are perfect for an audience getting used to The Doctor’s first change of character. Polly is flabbergasted, but eventually accepts that this odd little man is The Doctor. But Ben is skeptical for the first episode or so, and The Doctor almost punishes Ben for his skepticism by playing mind games with him – speaking in the third person, rummaging through the chest as if it was someone else’s, making up gibberish about a butterfly breaking from its chrysalis, irritating the hell out of everyone with his recorder. Once The Doctor discovers the Daleks, however, he is (almost) all serious. The mind games continue, but instead of his companions, his targets are the colony government and scientists, trying to convince them to destroy the Daleks and discover their motivations for working with the metal creatures. Here was the seed of The Second Doctor’s particular brand of manipulation that we would later see in full force in Evil of the Daleks and Tomb of the Cybermen. He doesn’t only play the fool to put people off their guard about him, as in when he looks for microphones hidden in the fruit bowl in his quarters and tries to break the sonic lock on his jail cell with a dog whistle. But he also finds just the right words to get on the nerves of Bragen, Lesterson, Janley and others in just that way that they reveal their motivations to him. And when the Daleks finally strike against the colony, The Doctor rises to action, leading his friends back to Lesterson’s control room and overloading the Dalek’s power supply, blowing them all to pieces. Why does he take such extreme measures? Well, the Daleks are certainly extreme creatures, and as he put it, “I like to do things MY way!” This proved it once and for all. He’s still The Doctor, and you don’t want to mess with him.

Ben and Polly come off quite well, with very good dialogue trying to get their heads around The Doctor’s regeneration, and when they find themselves embroiled with the increasingly violent Vulcan politics. Ben’s scepticism is an excellent mirror image of Polly’s faith in the cosmic hobo. Polly has some excellent moments of righteous indignation at the unjust imprisonment of Quinn, and the rebels’ working with the Daleks when she is held prisoner in the factory ship. Ben gets a great showcase in episode four helping The Doctor infiltrate the rebel meeting and letting himself be captured so The Doctor can escape. But I think the best Doctor-companion moment comes at the very end, when Ben mentions that The Doctor’s warnings to the colonists about the Dalek threat were not really all that convincing. The Doctor only chuckles mischievously before they are on their way. 

Fanwanky canonicity follows!

No one on Vulcan knew what the Daleks were, so The Doctor knew from this that it was before the Daleks conquered Earth in the mid-22nd century. Perhaps during The Dalek Invasion of Earth, he had done some research and discovered when humanity’s first public contact with the Daleks was. And perhaps it was at this colony on Vulcan. The Doctor, having discovered previously that the Daleks all but wiped out the human colony on Vulcan before the main body of their invasion fleet moved on to Earth, knew that he had to let the massacre happen. It was an established part of history, so he couldn’t interfere. He knew he had to do his best to minimize the damage and destroy this particular Dalek force. But it’s likely that the Daleks from the factory ship would have alerted Skaro when they were reactivated, and the Dalek war fleet set course for Earth for the first time.

Getting back to the story, the Daleks themselves are excellent. They are terribly villainous and devious for the first five episodes, manipulating the humans around them into helping them re-establish their power supply before going on a suitably frightening massacre. The scene late in episode six surveying a city full of dead bodies is suitably chilling, I think moreso with just Anneke Wills’ spine-tingling description over the stark incidental music. The music is another praiseworthy part of Power of the Daleks. It’s spare as to be almost non-existent, and when it does appear, it consists of a low drumming punctuated by a stabbing, low-pitched electronic whistle. It’s gorgeously atmospheric for the scariest scenes in the story, excellent to punctuate the regulars creeping around the Dalek vessel.

Incidentally, the planet Vulcan seen here in Power of the Daleks pre-dates the UK premiere of Star Trek, featuring the planet and race of hardcore logicians, the Vulcan. Star Trek first appeared in Britain on 12 July 1969, according to imdb.com, and Power of the Daleks, featuring the human colony world Vulcan, debuted in Britain on 5 November 1966. This is an entirely nitpicking concern I have over the originality of the word ‘Vulcan’ in this story, which has been so overused thanks to Trek that it can never be mentioned in a new piece of literature for the rest of human history.

When I reviewed ‘Marco Polo’ I noted that some fans insist that the missing Doctor Who stories cannot be fairly judged on the strength of their soundtracks alone, since the visuals either add to or detract from the original story. This is a debatable point, but the fact remains that when I first heard ‘The Power of the Daleks’ when its soundtrack was released on audiocassette in 1993, it rapidly became one of my favourite Doctor Who stories of all time, and subsequent viewings of the Loose Cannon recon only strengthened my positive opinions of it.

The first notable aspect of ‘The Power of the Daleks’ is of course Patrick Troughton. The manner in which the lead actor was changed in Doctor Who is a work of minor genius in my opinion. It is not unheard of for major characters within series to be played by different actors when the original becomes unavailable; the death of Reginald Tate after The Quatermass Experiment resulted in John Robinson taking on the role for Quatermass II, and he was himself replaced by Andrй Morell (arguably the definitive Quatermass) for Quatermass and the Pit. All three actors however (and later Sir John Mills), were playing exactly the same role; with the transition from Hartnell to Troughton, Troughton is still playing the same character, but the characterisation is very different. By making the change part of the actual storyline, the production team allowed Troughton to literally make the role his own, rather than simply trying to recapture his predecessor’s performance. The new Doctor impresses immediately. The new Doctor is far more energetic than his previous incarnation, and immediately seems more erratic; as soon as he recovers from his transformation, he starts clowning around and generally teasing his companions, who are stunned by his change and (quite understandably) wonder if he is an imposter. Even when he is rooting through the trunk in his TARDIS and reminiscing about the items he finds within it, he refers to his former self in the third person purely for the benefit of Ben and Polly, with an innate mischievousness. Once on Vulcan, he is quick to embroil himself in events even before he knows of the presence of the Daleks (although there are hints that he deliberately steered the TARDIS to the colony precisely for that reason), leaping at the opportunity to impersonate the murdered Examiner and therefore set about finding out who the murderer is. His clowning continues, and it quickly becomes clear to the viewer that this new Doctor is going to be far more erratic and eccentric than his predecessor. Once he discovers the Daleks in the opened capsule however, his manner quickly changes; the scene at the end of episode one when he, Ben and Polly, find the dormant monsters shows Troughton’s Doctor in serious mood for the first time, and he conveys the Doctor’s fears with a superb sense of urgency. When Lesterson and the others find them in the laboratory, he alternates between gravely trying to insist on the Daleks’ destruction and switching back to his habitual air of guileless, almost idiotic, innocence when Ben is in danger of saying more than he wants him to about what the travellers witnessed in the Dalek vessel, and this really establishes the pattern for Troughton’s performance in the future. Most importantly, one of the Doctor’s crucial character traits is re-established; when Ben suggests that they leave Vulcan if the colonists don’t want to heed the Doctor’s warnings, he refuses, explaining that he knows the suffering that the Daleks cause and can’t simply leave the colonists to their fate. Finally, and very importantly to my mind, it is the Doctor alone who proves capable of ending the threat of the Daleks, overloading their power source and blowing them up right at the very end. The Doctor’s recorder, one of my least favourite musical instruments, is quite irritating, but them its clearly meant to be. 

Ben and Polly are excellent here as usual, and play a vital role in helping the viewers to adjust to the new Doctor. Polly is far quicker than Ben to trust the new Doctor, accepting that since they saw him change he must be the Doctor. Ben is far less willing to accept this given that the apparent stranger doesn’t even act like the old Doctor, and their debating over the evidence as they slowly come to trust the Doctor again provides the perfect opportunity for the Doctor to explain (rather obliquely) his transformation. This is testimony to David Whitaker’s skills as a script-writer, as is the fact that within two episodes any doubts the Doctor are dispelled, allowing the viewer to concentrate on the main focus of the plot. Ben’s shocked realization that the Dalek at the end of episode two recognizes his friend and that he must therefore be the Doctor is a powerful moment and one that finally resolves the issue. After the first two episodes, neither Ben nor Polly has much to do, as the new Doctor becomes the focus instead, with both Anneke Wills and Michael Craze taking it turns to sit an episode out, but even with their diminished roles they provide adequate support as usual. The relatively large guest cast is also uniformly excellent. Bragan is a suitably loathsome villain, especially when he orders the murder of his former allies in episode five. I never fail to take satisfaction in his refusal to heed the Doctor’s warnings about the Daleks, knowing that it is they that eventually cause his brief rule of the colony to come to an end. It is also fitting that betrayed ally Valmar, saving the life of Bragan’s nemesis Quinn, eventually dispatches him rather than him being exterminated by the Daleks. The slightly abrasive Quinn is a great character too, as is the cold and manipulative Janley and the pompous but ultimately well-meaning Hensell. But it is Robert James’ Lesterson who steals the best supporting character honours; his initial blind and childlike enthusiasm for the Daleks gradually gives way to uncertainty as they obsessively pursue their own power source, and he finally gives in to blind terror as he discovers the Dalek production line inside the capsule and realises that the Doctor was right all along. James’ conveys his character’s panic incredibly well, especially during the scene in the Governor’s office as he tries to convince Bragan of the danger. In the face of Bragan’s refusal to listen to him, helped by Janley’s lies as she tries to ensure the continued safety of her supposed allies, he gives in to complete abject fear and literally ends up gibbering, before he descends fully into insanity and is eventually mercilessly killed by the creatures he championed so passionately. One of Lesterson’s finest moments is when the Doctor reveals that the Daleks are not robots and adds that they can achieve anything given sufficient resources; Lesterson’s quietly horrified “w- what?” beautifully demonstrates the exact moment at which he realises what he’s done. 

Finally, there are the Daleks. ‘The Power of the Daleks’ is the first Dalek story written without Terry Nation and Whitaker handles them without peer. In ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’ they were effective because of the magnitude of the threat that the represented. Here, the stakes are much smaller; rather than an army of Daleks threatening the entire galaxy with a super weapon, here we have three Daleks threatening a single colony. And yet, they have never been this scary. It starts with the Doctor, Troughton excellently portraying controlled fear as he tells Ben that one Dalek could destroy the colony. We often saw the First Doctor’s suppressed hatred of his perennial enemies, but this is the first time the Doctor appears to exhibit trepidation in this way. Later, when he tells Lesterson that the Dalek will end the colony’s problems because it will end the colony, the threat is reinforced; the fact that the Doctor truly believes that a single Dalek poses such a threat is very powerful. But what really makes the Dalek seem more dangerous here than ever before is their guile and cunning. The cliffhanger to episode two as the Dalek relentless chants “I am your servant” over the Doctor’s appeals to Hensell is one of my favourite cliffhangers of the entire series. Later, the Daleks continue to consolidate their power by manipulating the colonists, Lesterson in particular, as the viewer is afforded a glimpse into their true natures; a Dalek automatically proclaims its superiority, only to catch itself just in time (“a Dalek is bet- is… not the same as a human being”), and on at least three occasions, their absolute loathing of the Doctor is made clear, particularly when one Dalek comes close to ruining its pretense of servitude to Bragan when he takes up the Doctor’s challenge and stops it from killing him. As the story progresses, we get to see just how much they are anticipating slaughtering the colonists, as they eagerly conspire together in the capsule and look forward to teaching the humans “the law of the Daleks”. The cliffhanger to episode four as Lesterson, and the viewers, first see the Dalek production line, is utterly chilling, the mechanical efficiency of the creatures contrasting horrible high-pitched screeching of the Dalek embryos being bred in their tanks. The Discontinuity Guide lists the Daleks’ endless repeating of “Daleks conquer and destroy” at the end of episode five as a dialogue disaster, but for me it serves as an illustration of why they are such effective monsters; unlike fellow part-machine monsters the Cybermen, the Daleks are not emotionless, they are utterly psychotic and motivated by hatred and xenophobia. They clearly enjoy massacring the colonists in episode six. So thoroughly monstrous are they in this story that their messy and explosive destruction at the climax is enormously satisfying and indeed a relief; the terminal power loss of ‘The Mutants’ would not have sufficed here; by the end of the story, after numerous shots of corpses littering the colony, they really needed to be defeated as utterly as possible. 

I really have no criticisms of ‘The Power of the Daleks’. Based on the recon and telesnaps, the production was impressive, with the mercury swamps and colony buildings looking highly effective (I particularly like the ornate bars of the prison cells that the Doctor and Quinn are imprisoned in). The sparse surviving footage reveals the obvious use of blow-up Dalek photographs, but that didn’t spoil my enjoyment of any of the previous Dalek stories and if ‘The Power of the Daleks’ was rediscovered tomorrow and released on video or DVD, I doubt it would bother me here either. Frankly, Troughton couldn’t have asked for a better debut story.

Whilst 'Robot' succeeded in establishing the new Doctor and the relationship between him and his companions, it is in many ways a hangover from the Pertwee era. Having established the new status quo, however it leads into 'The Ark in Space', arguably the first proper Tom Baker story and a shining example of the influence of Philip Hinchcliffe and Robert Holmes. 

From the start, 'The Ark in Space' has the feel of a new direction. After the cosy feel of much of the Pertwee era, this story is noticeably different in feel. Almost immediately, the story creates a feeling of claustrophobia, as the Doctor, Harry and Sarah find themselves trapped in a small room rapidly running out of oxygen, and the setting remains uncomfortable throughout. The fact that it is set entirely on a space station means that there is no easy way to escape the threat of the Wirrn (given the Doctor's steadfast refusal to abandon humanity in the TARDIS), and their increasing stranglehold on the Ark gives a constant feeling that the TARDIS crew and Vira's small group are running out of places to hide. The sublimely creepy incidental music enhances this effect, as do the magnificent sets, which are some of the series' best. The use of bright white sets gives the Ark a sterile look, which contrasts beautifully with the cold expanse of space visible through the windows in the corridors, creating a cold, stark feel, but the detail inherent in the designs also avoids making the sets look drab. 

The structure of 'The Ark in Space' adds to the story's success. Episode One features just the Doctor, Harry and Sarah, and unfolds relatively slowly. However, at no point does it feel padded, because almost everything advances the plot. The scene with the autoguard could initially seem like filler, until it later becomes clear that it was this that destroyed the Wirrn Queen. The Doctor and Harry's exploration of the silent Ark adds to the eeriness of the atmosphere and further contributes to the plot, as the Doctor deduces his location and the nature of the Ark. Aside from providing information for the audience, this also makes the Doctor look rather good. Once the humans on board the Ark start to wake up, events gather pace, and the story flies by as the threat of the Wirrn grows rapidly. Even the cliffhangers advance the plot, rather than simply being dramatic moments forced into the script to provide an exciting break every twenty-five minutes; Episode One concludes with the discovery of the Wirrn Queen, answering the question of what precisely entered the Ark; Episode Two culminates the revelation that Noah is transforming, further elucidating the nature of the threat; and Episode Three ends with Noah's final transformation into an adult Wirrn, showing us the final, most deadly stage of their development, shortly after the Doctor has grimly informed us that adult Wirrn will be a thousand times more dangerous than the larvae. Even Episode Four follows this pattern, dovetailing nicely into the start of 'The Sontaran Experiment', and contributing to a linked feel to the season that harkens back to the program's early days. 

With Sarah sidelined for much of Episode One and no other characters present until Episode Two, it falls to Tom Baker and Ian Marter to carry the episode, and they do so with panache. The rapport between them, established in 'Robot', continues apace, resulting in some great moments, as the Doctor explains the nature of the Ark to a sceptical Harry. This is perhaps more effective than it would have been with Sarah, given Sarah's experience of travel within the TARDIS. Despite being rather out of his depth however, Harry soon starts to acclimatize to being thousands of years into the future and continues to prove his usefulness, despite his bumbling reputation; he is able to apply long out-dated medical skills to help Vira revive her people, and helps Rogin tackle the Wirrn larvae in Episode Three. Even his desire to escape in the TARDIS when things begin to appear hopeless in Episode Four seems more honest and realistic than cowardly. Tom Baker continues to impress as the Doctor, and gets some brilliant lines of dialogue, especially in his scenes with Harry, which are all part of Episode One's success. I love the bit where Harry guesses that the Ark is some kind of survival measure and the Doctor tells him that he is improving. Harry's rather pleased look quickly gives way to ruefulness as the Doctor adds that it is entirely due to his influence, and that Harry mustn't take any credit. Aside from being amusing, it demonstrates Marter's comic timing. The Doctor gets many other great lines, such as "My doctorate is purely honorary and Harry's only qualified to work on sailors", and "An ordinary brain. But mine is exceptional!" Despite this humour however, the story is rife with suspense throughout and whilst he demonstrates a knack for wit, Baker also imbues his Doctor with other qualities. He's convincingly portentous when describing the threat posed by the Wirrn, and for all his eccentricity he quickly gains Vira's trust, simply by generating a general air of trustworthiness. 

Most interestingly of all in my opinion is the Doctor's motivation for getting involved, which is established by his famous speech about humanity's achievements in Episode One, and is summed up later by his line "It may be irrational of me, but human beings are quite my favourite species". 'The Ark in Space' is a story in which the Doctor and his companions have the option of fleeing in the TARDIS, but the Doctor refuses to do so because people need his help. This reflects his attitude back in 'The Tomb of the Cybermen' when he remained on Telos to help Parry's expedition members survive the results of their folly, despite his ability to leave whenever he wished, and it really sums up his character. Indeed, his commitment to helping humanity is such that he is prepared to sacrifice himself in Episode Four. Perhaps more interesting still, is the side he chooses; the Wirrn, the script informs us, have been gravely wronged by humanity in the past and are striving to survive. The Wirrn ultimately have as much right to survive as humanity, but the Doctor sides against them. This is probably largely due to his tendency to side with the underdog in any circumstances, given that the Wirrn are so dangerous, but the fact that he actually acknowledges favoritism towards humans is an intriguing insight into his character. This is doubly interesting because of Holmes' script, which initially shows us an almost fascist society of the future, where people are valued solely by their abilities (as suggested by Vira's casual questioning of Sarah's value). Prior to being infected by the Wirrn, Noah is callous and ruthless, prepared to destroy the Doctor and his friends rather than risk contamination of the gene pool. This raises all manner of implications about eugenics and elitism in the society preserved on board the Ark. Humanity's general state is further suggested by the attitudes of Libri, Lycett and Vira, all of whom are reluctant to take on responsibilities outside of their allotted roles. However, having established this rather pessimistic template of humanity's future, Holmes immediately sets out to thwart it; despite his ruthlessness, Noah ultimately saves the humans on board the Ark, as his underlying humanity allows him to lead the Wirrn into space, and to destruction. Rogin, in stark contrast to Lycett, is an instantly recognizable character type, emerging from cryogenic suspension cynical, sarcastic and resolutely individual. He's a marvellous character, played perfectly by Richardson Morgan, and represents humanity's finer aspects just as much as Noah's sacrifice. He too sacrifice's himself, saving both the Doctor and his people in the process. 

Whilst the Doctor and Harry carry Episode One, Sarah too gets some good moments during 'The Ark in Space', mainly in Episode Four, when she reminds the Doctor about the shuttlecraft and of course takes the cable through the ducting. Sladen's acting is as good as ever, and she conveys Sarah's increasing panic as she keeps getting stuck in the tunnels very well. The guest cast is also very good, with the unfortunate exception of Christopher Masters as the wooden Libri. Wendy Williams is very good as the cold, aloof Vira, who gradually become more human as she comes to trust the Doctor and struggles to save her people. Kenton Moore's tortured performance as Noah is crucial to the success of the story, as he struggles against the influence of the Wirrn in his mind. It is quite remarkable that in Episode Three he acts so well with a bubble plastic glove that the scene is genuinely disturbing. 

Finally of course, there are the Wirrn. In both forms they are startlingly effective; the larvae are obviously made of bubble plastic, but the story is so well directed that somehow they remain convincing. The actual Wirrn look pretty good, but the limitations of the costumes become obvious when they move; nevertheless, they still manage to look great. Although recognizably insects, they also look suitably alien. From a story point of view, they are an awesome menace, difficult to destroy, about to swarm on mass, and totally hostile. Even with Noah's influence, the Wirrn cannot be negotiated with; their existence is anathema to that of human kind. Their ability to absorb and assimilate humans is effective and disturbing, (Noah's "I am Dune" in Episode Two is surprisingly chilling), and they have an unstoppable, terrifying feel throughout. Even the Doctor is hard pressed to defeat them; at best he only reaches a kind of stalemate when he electrifies the cryogenic chamber, and ultimately it falls takes the last vestiges of Noah's humanity to destroy them from within.

In summary, 'The Ark in Space' is a triumph and superb start for the new producer.

Without wishing to sound unduly harsh in any way, I think that it is probably fair to say that had The Sensorites been a stand-alone science-fiction serial of the early sixties, and even if it had by some miracle survived complete in the archives on that basis, nobody today would ever have heard of it. There would have been no video release, no novelisation, no reviews on websites on in print media. It is, in short, not one of the finest hours of Doctor Who.

Which is a shame really, as at its heart it has some interesting ideas that in the hands of a more skilled writer, or perhaps simply one who was more enthused about writing for the programme, it could have been a half-decent serial. The entrapment of Maitland, Carol and John at the hands of the Sensorites and that race’s very curious form of psychological torture that is being inflicted upon them is actually quite a chilling scenario, and it does make a change to see the series exploring some new territory, in this case telepathy.

The sad thing is all of this initial promise is muted by the fact that the opening episode is one of the dullest affairs in the entire history of Doctor Who. After enduring it one video it was nearly a week before I could bring myself to watch the subsequent episodes, which do admittedly improve the quality somewhat. (It would be hard to be worse, frankly). There are so many things wrong here – the characters of Maitland and Carol are two of the worse played supporting characters of the era, although admittedly John is quite well done. Characters change their motivations in the course of a sentence and nobody acts in a particularly realistic or believable manner at all. I struggle to remember a natural line of dialogue in the entire episode, and I feel sorry for the regular cast having to put themselves through this after having had vastly superior material in just about every episode that’s gone before this.

That said, the episode does boast one redeeming feature, the cliffhanger appearance of the Sensorite at the window of the ship, which is suitably creepy. One does have to wonder, though, why if they can walk in space with no problem they need any kind of space ship, as it is subsequently revealed that they do have. Once they get on board later on they lose some of their effectiveness, chiefly because of their ludicrous feet – we only see these in detail in one shot in the entire story, so one does have to wonder why it was felt necessary to include said shot.

The one positive aspect of the story that most reviewers seem to pick up on is that it gives Susan something a bit different to do for a change, with her telepathic interaction with the Sensorites and the revelation that she has some sort of latent ability in such areas. There are also some good character moments for the Doctor and Susan as she remembered their home planet, and later on in the TARDIS asks her grandfather if he thinks they will ever get home, a rare – if brief – discussion of their origins at this point in the show’s history.

As I mentioned above, the only member of the human supporting cast who seems to be of any interest if the deranged John, even though his recovery later on does seem to be remarkably swift for someone who had at first appeared to be so deeply psychologically damaged. Also mad as a bicycle but all the more enjoyable for it against a comparatively dull storyline are the three humans hiding in the aqueduct, who bring a touch of enlivening lunacy to things in the final episode, although of course by then it’s far too late to do the story any good.

The Sensorites themselves are a pretty standard bunch of aliens, with a noble leader and subordinates around him who are not quite as trusting of the new arrivals. You do have to wonder, however, why if the Sensorites are as enlightened a race as the First Elder chooses to make out, they are so utterly nasty to Maitland, Carol and particularly John in the time before the arrival of the TARDIS on the scene. Perhaps things are not entirely as they appear, although to be honest I’d be hard pressed to believe that Peter Newman could be quite as clever as that, on the basis of this example of his script writing abilities in any case.

I think the main problem with Newman’s writing is that he was pitching the show at an incredibly juvenile level. Now, there is no great shame in that bearing in mind that this is season one, when the cross-generational appeal of Doctor Who had yet to be fully appreciated. But even giving him that much of the benefit of the doubt, Newman still provides a script that really is Doctor Who at its most basic, and that can surely only have really kept the very youngest members of the audience fully entertained, of any of them at all. Some nice lines of dialogue in places perhaps give us evidence that Newman was not totally clueless, so one cannot help but wonder what could have been produced had he just but some more effort into what he was doing.

Possibly the most ludicrous example of his script writing comes at the very end of the story, when the Doctor flies into a sudden fit of anger with Ian and promises to throw him off the ship at its very next landing, for absolutely no reason whatsoever other than to create a moment of drama at what would otherwise have been a very calm and relaxed end of the story. Rarely can there have been such a signposted and obvious attempt to create ‘drama’ in a Doctor Whostory, and why it wasn’t cut out is a mystery to me. Perhaps story editor David Whitaker was having something of an off day when The Sensorites landed on his desk – given the pressure there was to find suitable, affordable scripts for the programme in those early years, it wouldn’t surprise me if this only saw the light of day simply because there was nothing else available to make instead. Sometimes such necessity would pay off for the show, as it did with The Daleks, but in this case you can’t help but wonder if they wouldn’t have been better off just making it up as they went along for six weeks.

In defence of the story, you can say that on its video release it has a very nice looking VidFIREd picture, and in narrative terms the Doctor gets a very nice new cloak to wear… But aside from that and the other few plus points I’ve mentioned in this review, The Sensorites is six episode of Doctor Who that make you wonder how they managed to keep this and lose so many better stories.