I noted when I reviewed ‘The Long Game’ that Russell T. Davies’ remit of focusing on characterisation in the new Doctor Who series has actually resulted in characterisation of the two regulars but left the supporting characters shallow, two-dimensional ciphers, and that it has fallen to the other writers to show him how it should be done. Paul Cornell becomes the third writer to do this, bringing all the strengths the best of his previous work to the screen with powerful effect.

Paul Cornell’s detractors tend to dismiss his work as sentimental, but the reason for this is that in all his Doctor Who novels and audios he’s focused on the triumph of the human spirit over adversity. It’s so rare to see this in modern British television writing, in which grim and gritty plotlines are currently in vogue, that I can’t bring myself to condemn the optimism that permeates his work, and ‘Father’s Day’ is no exception. It is sentimental, yes, but the emotions on display here ring true and its’ hard not be moved during the scenes between Rose and her father. The plot of ‘Father’s Day’ is predictable, but only in the way that a tragedy always is. Even viewers who hadn’t seen the trailer at the end of ‘The Long Game’ must have been able to guess what would happen when Rose asks if the laws of time permit her to witness her father’s death and the Doctor quietly tells her, “I can do anything, I’m just worried about you… be careful what you wish for.” Rose’s inevitable interference allows her to see the relationship between her parents first hand and bereft of the, erm, rose-tinted view her mother imposed on her own memories. Naturally, she gets a bit of shock as she realises that her dad is human; she sees them bickering incessantly, with Jacky yelling at Peter, “You bring home cut price detergents, tonic water, betamax tapes, and none of it works”, generally accusing him of being useless, and assuming that he’s having an affair with the young blonde she finds him with. He shouts back, “Yeah, cos I’m that stupid – I play around and then bring her to meet the missus”, eventually prompting a distraught Rose to shout, “Stop this! You’re not like this, you love each other!” Which is of course the truth, as Rose realises moments later when they make up.

Rose’s dad is a great character and his scenes with her are crucial to the success of the episode. For all of his self-deprecation, he isn’t stupid and having been assaulted by flying dragons he soon works out what is going on, telling Rose, “A wound in time… you called me “Dad”” The subsequent scene (“You are, you’re my Rose”) is very moving, especially when he starts asking about his hair and is met with silence, and he quickly realises exactly why she’s traveled back in time to see him, especially when he asks her “Am I a good dad?” She replies “You were there for us all the time. Someone I could really rely on”, and he realises, “That’s not me.” Billie Piper again gets to show her worth, portraying Rose’s emotions very convincingly throughout, and especially at this point, and Shaun Dingwell complements her beautifully as her dad. As soon as the car that should have killed Rose’s Dad starts materializing and dematerializing around the church, the resolution of the plot is obvious, but the point is that it is also obvious to Peter and he chooses to sacrifice himself to save everyone in a very noble and touching moment. We get a genuinely emotional scene as he tells Jacky, “I’m meant to be dead Jacky. You’re finally going to get rid of me” and Piper is superb when he tells her, “Thanks for saving me” and goes out to get run over. Rose’s dad works very well. For all his self-deprecation, he resolves to do the right thing, and sacrifices himself to save the world.

My main criticism of ‘Father’s Day’ is that, yet again, we get an ineffectual Doctor who achieves nothing. In fact, most of what happens here is technically his fault, since he takes Rose back in time in the first place, and when the Reapers appear and start devouring the world, despite his best intentions all he actually does is get eaten. Given the importance in Cornell’s script of the human spirit triumphing over adversity however, this actually works, as it removes him from the picture to allow Rose’s Dad to save the day. The problem therefore is not that the Doctor achieves little in the this episode, but that he repeatedly comes across as ineffectual through the season thus far and therefore rather than being the exception that it should have been, ‘Father’s Day’ boasts just another example of his dithering and incompetence. That said, the Doctor gets some magnificent scenes here, and Christopher Eccleston puts in one of his best performances. I’m coming to the conclusion that his performance achieves its potential far more in episodes not written by Davies, which require him to do some serious acting instead of just grinning like an idiot, rattling off atrocious puns, and acting like Rose’s jealous boyfriend. After Rose saves her dad’s life, Eccleston conveys the Doctor’s emotions through facial acting alone until the Doctor gets the chance to speak to her without Peter being present. Although he does shout, “I did it again, I picked another stupid ape” at her, his best line here is when he coldly gives voice to his concerns that he’s been manipulated all along, reminding Rose, “When we met, I said “travel with me in space”, you said “no”. Then I said “time.”” The moment passes, but it’s an interesting insight into a hitherto unexpected insecurity, and afterwards we get a quietly delivered but heartfelt reference to the Time Lords, as he tells her, “My entire planet died, my whole family. Do you think it never occurred to me go back and save them?” Later, when he finds the Doctor finds the empty TARDIS shell, the look of panic on Eccleston’s face is very convincing. And whilst I have criticized the fact that he achieves little here, the Doctor’s willingness to step between the Reaper and the crowd in the church, announcing, “I’m the oldest thing in here!” is the sort of behaviour I expect from him. But the Doctor’s finest moment here, and one which is also typical Paul Cornell, is when Stuart and Sarah ask him, “Can you save us?” and there follows a conversation culminating in the great line, “Who said you’re not important? I’ve traveled to all sorts of places, done things you couldn’t imagine. But you two… street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I’ve never had a life like that. Yes, I’ll try and save you.”

The Doctor’s relationship with Rose gets strained here as a result of Rose’s actions, but by the end of the episode, they’re as close as they usually are. Despite nearly bringing about Armageddon, the Doctor only remains angry with Rose until she says she’s sorry, after which he concentrates on trying to solve the problem rather than blaming her. He shows great concern for her when she initially witnesses her father’s death, demonstrating that for all his moaning about “domestics” in previous episodes, he does understand human emotions, and he tries to find an alternative to the obvious solution to try and spare Rose further turmoil; as Peter realizes, “The Doctor worked it out ages ago, but he tried to protect me.” However, whilst I’m on the subject, the answer to Rose’s question, “We’re not a couple, why does everyone think we’re a couple?” is probably due to the Doctor’s jealously of Mickey and Adam in Davies’ episodes and their constant sixth form flirting.

It’s worth discussing the logic of the plot at this point. Some critics have already started questioning how much sense the rules of time travel on display here make sense, especially since the Reapers apparently feed on wounds in time, but disappear when Rose’s Dad dies even though history has still been altered. The model of temporal mechanics utilized here is very much the model previously established in Doctor Who, and also that used in much of Cornell’s work. There is an obvious distinction between the massive paradox caused by Rose saving her father’s life, and the slight hiccup in the time line that is all that is left at the end; the idea that history can change but in ways that time can cope with has been seen previously in Cornell’s debut Doctor Who story ‘Timewyrm: Revelation’ (Chad Boyle’s altered past by the end of the novel). It clearly contrasts here with the situation initially caused by Rose, as she basically causes a reverse Grandfather paradox, travelling back in time to save her father and thus altering her own past fairly drastically. By the end of the story history is still altered, but the wound is much less gaping; Rose ends up having always been part of her families past, Jacky’s memories alter accordingly, and the man responsible for Peter’s death waits for the police. Note that she tells the young Rose at the end, “The driver was just a kid. He stopped. He waited for the police. It wasn’t his fault” whereas originally he was never caught; in both cases, he in a sense “gets away with it”, so it’s entirely possible that the overall picture of his life remains unchanged. What doesn’t really make sense is the fact that Rose can’t safely make physical contact with her past self, but this too is part of the background mythology of the series, first established in ‘Mawdryn Undead’ and since then revisited in such diverse works as ‘Turlough and the Earthlink Dilemma’, ‘Happy Endings’, and ‘The Time of the Daleks’ so I have no problem with Cornell using it here. The only problem with all the temporal shenanigans here is that Rose is seemingly unable to understand the consequences of changing her own past; she’s supposed to be intelligent, but whilst Doctor Who writers have always belabored points such as this in an attempt to explain them to even the densest audience member, it shouldn’t be that hard to explain. I know this, because I have in the past explained the Grandfather paradox to a nincompoop, and he understood it perfectly when I’d finished. There’s also no real logical reason for all of the phones in the area to start receiving “the very first phone call, Alexander Graham Bell” either, but as a means of generally indicating that something is wrong with time, it is quite a nice touch.

The guest cast is generally very good here, with even Camille Coduri getting a few decent scenes, and conveying genuine sadness when she tells the young Rose about her father. Mind you, once Rose meets her in the past, I soon found myself wanting her to fall under a car instead of Peter. Bonus points are awarded to the episode for the Doctor’s, “I’ve waited a long time to say this: Jacky Tyler, do as I say! Go and check the doors! I should have done that ages ago.” Overall then, ‘Father’s Day’ is a fine episode. In addition to everything I’ve already mentioned, there is some gentle humour, including Jacky saying of the young Mickey, “He just grabs on to whatever’s passing and holds on for dear life. God help his poor girlfriend if he ever has one” and the Doctor telling baby Rose, “You aren’t going to bring about the end of the world, are you? Are you?” The episode is well directed too, with the shots from the Reapers’ point of view notably creepy, as people start to disappear. The Reapers themselves look good from the side, although from the front when they scream at people, there is something about them that puts me in mind of Muppets. And having provided several episodes worth of aural effluent, Murray Gold’s does his best work for the series thus far, with a score that is entirely appropriate to what is seen on screen.

‘Father’s Day’ ultimately reinforces my growing suspicion that, whilst I’ve generally enjoyed Davies’ episodes, the other writers are far better at writing for Doctor Who than he is. This feeling is further enhanced by the trailer for ‘The Empty Child’, the first of a two part story written by Steven Moffat, which looks extremely promising…

The most touching, poignant and emotional episode of Doctor Who ever screened with performances so on the nail it should shut up those nay sayers who constantly criticise its acting. Unfortunately all the good work done by the director and the actors is undone by one of the most ridiculously stupid scripts ever written.

Stupid mistake number one: The Doctor takes Rose back to the point of her father’s death. I can see now what the point of Adam was in the grand season one plan, he was there to show us how much the Doctor trusts and respects Rose in comparison so he can be totally let down this week when she makes some silly mistakes. Why on Earth doesn’t he just say no to her request? Taking somebody back to their fathers death and not expecting them to do something to stop it is like shoving a steak in front of a starving man (or a missing episode of Doctor Who in front of an anal fan)…something that is bound to give in to no matter how much you trust them not to. The Doctor makes a horrific mistake in flaunting his abilities to her here and the consequences are all his fault, not hers.

Stupid mistake number two: He takes her back to see her father again! What a bastard! Not content with risking one visit back he pops her back to a point when they are already there the first time they went back. Isn’t this incredibly dangerous? And utterly irresponsible? When she ran out and rescued him I was laughing my head off, the Doctor’s horrified reaction makes him look like such a prat. When he turned on her and blamed her for being a stupid ape I thought he was being hypocritical to the point of insanity, if anybody was being stupid in this episode it’s him. Remember the BBC past Doctor adventure The Witch Hunters? That book had a similar plot where the time travellers re-visited a time they had just left because Susan wanted to change something and it was Susan who set the controls and took them back. The Doctor was wise enough and smart enough to realise that staying during the witch trials would be dangerous and Susan would not be able to resist changing things. And he has every right to be angry when she pre-programmes the controls and does attempt to change things. The book still deals with these gripping time travel ideas but doesn’t spoil the Doctor’s integrity. Father’s Day is the work of a good writer so it baffles me that he could get the Doctor so totally wrong.

Stupid mistake number three: Don’t touch that baby, Rose the Doctor tells her knowing full well it will cause a temporal paradox and give the Reapers extra strength so what does he do? Leaves her within arms reach of the child throughout the rest of the episode. Why the hell didn’t he get that kid as far away from her as possible? Get Rose into the belfry or shove her down in the vestry? Nope he leaves them nice and close and suddenly gasps with horror when somebody hands her the kid. What a dickhead. (Was this really Eccleston’s favourite script?)

Inexplicable rubbish: The first phone call blaring through everybody’s phones. What the hell was all that about? The glowing TARDIS key and it suddenly materialising in the church and the empty TARDIS. How on Earth do the Reapers have the ability to affect the TARDIS so? Where the hell did they come from anyway? For what purpose do they cauterise time? Why did the car keep re-appearing waiting to claim Rose’s dad? How does his death in a different place rewind everything that has happened? How comes the Reapers are satisfied that no changes are made at the end when it is made blatantly clear by the two scenes with Jackie and child Rose that in the original timeline nobody was there for her dad when he died and because of their interference Rose was in fact there and holding his hand whilst he died? Why didn’t the Reapers see that as an adjustment to the timeline and disinfect Rose from the scene? Did anybody think this script through at all?

Blatant plagiarising from the book series: Russell T Davies made a very eloquent speech in the last Doctor Who magazine that the books have to follow the series lead and that they just aren’t quite as important as the series. Fair enough, but why then does this episode borrow wholesale ideas that have thrived in the series for the past four years? Gallifrey has been destroyed in a Great War, the Doctor the lone survivor. Dealt with in the books. Time travel mistakes made possible thanks to the Time Lords no longer existing. Dealt with in the books. Evil creatures appearing to police time travel in their absence, turning up and killing people horribly when diversions are made. It’s Sabbath and the babewyns innit? This episode flaunts these ideas as though they are original and refreshing but I have been intimately associated with them far superior works than this. Go and read Adventuress of Henrietta Street instead. I am such a huge fan of the books and to see them being treated so shabbily (their arc plot ignored in favour of an identical one for the TV series!) and yet being ripped off all the same is pretty annoying.

It is the character work where the story triumphs, namely Rose’s relationship with her father and unexpected closeness of Rose and the Doctor during the second half. Going back in time to a period you have been told about but not experienced is always a terrible mistake, you are bound to find out something terrible you did not know about. Rose’s realisation that her father was not the genius her mother made him out to be is inevitable but still extremely moving and then to discover even though he was a bit of a Del Boy, her father would still step in front of a car if it would make an important difference. Rose gets all the best scenes in Father’s Day from her mumbling awkwardness with the Doctor after she has changed history, not wanting to face his wrath, to her hilarious reaction to her fathers flirting and her moving reaction when she realises he will have to sacrifice himself anyway, despite her actions.

The Tyler family achieves a whole new layer of depth in this episode and as usual it is a joy to see Jackie back. She is as chavvy as ever, deeply humorous and dramatic in equal measures and with a tongue as sharp as ice. It was Jackie’s vehement anger towards her husband that gave Rose her biggest culture shock and her sudden turnabout at the climax, crying and begging for her husband not to sacrifice himself that proved how much she loved him anyway. Camille Coduri is as marvellous as ever, looking stunning in her wedding attire and once again finding new layers for the increasingly complex Jackie Tyler.

Despite the horrible choices he is given Eccleston gives a meaty performance that will go down as one of his best, a far cry from the dopey grins in earlier episodes. I know he wanted to show the world he could play a nice guy but the truth of the matter is Eccleston is better at playing nasties and when his Doctor is allowed to get angry and emotional he provides some sit up and pay attention fireworks that few of his predecessors could have managed. This is the episode that cements his relationship with Rose, having been to the brink of splitting up and still walking away hand in hand. When he admits that he wouldn’t have left her and she says she knew that already you feel a genuine bond that cannot be broken, no matter how bad thin get. And the Doctor accusing her of having an agenda for travelling with him was pretty low but her quiet reaction to this proves it has been in the back of her mind for a while. Perhaps as far back as The Unquiet Dead. I take back what I said about Billie Piper in Dalek, I could not fault her performance in Father’s Day and if she doesn’t have you blubbing before the credits come up you have no soul.

The direction was absolutely smashing. Pretty much every episode this has been extremely pretty on the eyes and so when this episode started with its incredibly drab looking location work (a horrid, grey windy day) it was already uncomfortable BEFORE time was messed up. The POV views of the Reapers attacking were stunning and proved once again that you only have to imply violence for it to be more effective than actually showing it. The music was a huge step up from last week, creepy and poignant in equal measures. And considering it was a slower, character based episode it was certainly not dull for a second, filmed by a director who knows how to inject drama and pathos into the programme.

I want to write this off as a spectacular triumph because of the sheer amount of talent that has gone into it. There are scenes in this episode that rank higher than anything else I have seen on television in ages. But the script is so irritatingly flawed I had a constant sense of anger surging through me throughout the episode.

Who would have thought there would ever be a time where the production and performances of Doctor would be its selling points and the script would be its biggest failure. My my, how things have changed.

The main conceit around which ‘Carnival of Monsters’ is built, that of a ‘human ant farm,’ is enough to fill anyone with apprehension. Plots about shrinking are traditionally more the stuff of fantasy than science fiction – they’ve occasionally been handled well in things like Richard Matheson’s ‘The Shrinking Man’ and ‘Fantastic Voyage,’ yes, but given the inherent limitations of the Doctor Who format (and the tendency towards facetiousness in the previous two stories), we can’t be blamed for approaching ‘Carnival of Monsters’ expecting twee-ness and forced whimsy. And when the first moments of this story present us with a) vaguely Munchkin-like aliens with an absurd dialect, b) a second plot featuring setting and characters that seem to have been copped from ‘Anything Goes,’ and c) a character whose costume is even worse than Colin Baker’s . . . well, as the Minorians themselves might say, one is not encouraged.

But happily, Robert Holmes’s script quickly evaporates any such fears; ‘Carnival of Monsters’ is a brilliant story, full of humor, and yet taking its sillier components just seriously enough to make them work. The approach is satirical without sacrificing the integrity of the ‘straight’ sci-fi approach. The Minorians are obviously fussy bureaucrats, but Holmes fleshes out their society just enough to keep them from being too jokey - the class struggles with the Functionaries, the paranoia about ‘contamination,’ and their strange dependence on the pronoun ‘one’ all combine to distinguish them as a genuine alien culture with its own unique quirks. And the MiniScope (with its ignorant huckster proprietors) is an obvious dig at pop culture on the whole and television in particular, and yet it’s handled with surprising realism and good taste.

In terms of the production aesthetics, the story is a mini-masterpiece (no pun intended); a great example of Doctor Who overcoming its budget constraints. The sets and cast are small, but effective. The Drashigs, as noted many times, are rather surprisingly believable and horrifying monsters. The springing one at the end of episode two is simply fantastic – obviously a puppet, but very lifelike, especially when it suddenly whips its head around to locate its prey. And speaking of the cliffhangers, every one here is a great one – a rare thing indeed for this series!

As for the cast, the familiar faces and voices are a little distracting (Peter Halliday, Harry Sullivan and Davros, all in the same story!), but that’s always part of the fun of Doctor Who anyway. Leslie Dwyer, despite his ridiculous wig, false mustache, and costume that seems to be made partially of candy, is believable and likeable as one of Holmes’s classic charlatan characters. Robert Holmes obviously had great affection for con men and show people, and Vorg is one of his best ‘flawed, but fun’ creations. Michael Wisher is simultaneously comic and sinister as the Shakespeare-esque usurping brother – his dry delivery of the witty lines (and great facial expressions) make the character memorable (and his demise satisfying). Peter Halliday is pompous but sympathetic as Pletrac, Tenniel Evans’s Major is amusingly characterized, and Cheryl Hall and Jenny McCracken turn their smaller roles into ones to remember. (The moment when Claire *nearly* recalls what has happened to them is especially charming.)

And Jon Pertwee is in top form here. This is the mature Third Doctor at his best – vain and condescending to everyone around him (the moment when he tells the Minorians to stop calling him ‘the creature’ is classic), righteously indignant with Vorg when comparing the Miniscope to zoos, but also playful with Jo, vigorous and manly when boxing with Andrews, genteel when reacting to the carnival ‘palare,’ and of course driven by curiosity – possibly the Doctor’s most dominant trait throughout the show’s history. Katy Manning isn’t the star of this story, it’s true, but her performance is also an important part of its overall success.

All in all, ‘Carnival of Monsters’ is a real triumph of the era; if only all Doctor Who stories stood up this well . . . .

For me, The Green Death is not only one of the best UNIT stories, but one of the best Doctor Who stories ever. It has so many elements in it that contribute to its richly-deserved status as a classic.

Having said that, I'll start by talking you through the story's detractions. The camera-work during the "boating through the maggots" sequence is a little shoddy, with the principal characters and foreground so obviously cut into other shots that the sequence becomes completely unbelievable. Similar problems are encountered when the Doctor and Sgt. Benson attack the maggots. However, Doctor Who was never about superb effects, but about the story.

And so that's where I shall move on to. It is, unfortunately, one of those Doctor Who stories, like The Tomb of the Cybermen and The Caves of Androzani, that has a blatantly obvious moral. Now, don't get me wrong. One of the best things about Doctor Who is its moral undertones. It tries, and often succeeds, to teach us important lessons and principles. But it really grates with me when the moral undertones become,... well, moral overtones, so obvious are they. There are also some important story issues. For example, when the maggot in the Nuthutch is found dead- next to Professor Jones' special fungus, which it has been eating- the Doctor fails to make the connection between the fungus being fatal to the maggots, and the fungus being the basis of a vaccine against the maggots. It's an almost unforgivable scripting error in the sometimes almost omniscient Doctor.

But, I must now go on to my reasons for liking it so much. The minor characters are fleshed out so well that they become really entertaining in their own right. A particular favourite of mine is the BOSS. To hear it humming along merrily is lovely;it is really heartening that the scriptwriters and actors take the time to give the extras real personalities of their own. Stevens is also a refreshing new take on the "unwitting-pawn-controlled-by-a-higher-intelligence" theme. To have a character who can both be completely dominated by the computer, and also remind him to get back on track when he is busy eulogising is refreshing, and his sacrifice at the end is moving: not least because the Doctor accepts that it is something that Stevens has to do to cleanse his conscience. His nod of thank you to Stevens brings out the best in Pertwee's Doctor.

The Doctor also feels somewhat rejuvenated in The Green Death. He is now leaping from cranes, running away from armed guards in sealed compounds, and scrambling through mineshafts. This "action man" feel to the Doctor helps to keep the story ticking along, and also makes him stand out from Professor Jones. If the Doctor was just a thinking Doctor, he would be the same as Professor Jones; but his extra energy gives him an edge over Professor Jones, as well as making his sadness at Jo's departure more profound, because of this juxtaposition.

So, over all, an excellent yarn. Complex characters and an all-action Doctor more than make up for some minor filming quibbles. First class.

‘The Green Death’ is the famous story with the maggots, of course. In fact, I always used to laugh at pictures on the VHS box – this story has giant maggots, and they decide to use a still of the Doctor talking on the *telephone*? 

Well, the giant maggots are just fantastic – for all the differing opinions, I find them as realistic as practically any monster in Who history – but the story as a whole is a classic mixed bag of good and bad. The narrative itself isn’t anything more than a run-of-the-mill 1970s parable of ecological horror, about on a par with 1972’s ‘Frogs’ in terms of sophistication. The Doctor’s trip to Metebelis 3 in episode one is a silly, overlong piece of padding (albeit a briefly scary one, when that shocking tentacle hits the Doctor). The direction is meant to be clever (cutting from one character to another as they speak the same line, e.g.), but it actually seems rather corny and forced. And the giant dragonfly belongs in a children’s play.

But for every bad thing, there’s also something good. Lovely performances are turned in by Talfryn Thomas, Roy Evans, Tony Adams and Nicholas Courtney. (Is there a more iconic image of the Pertwee years than the Doctor and the Brigadier riding shoulder to shoulder in Bessie?) Jerome Willis is low-key as Stevens, but he really opens up when he takes his revenge on his BOSS in the strangely poignant climax. Speaking of which, the BOSS is a common or garden-variety HAL-esque mad computer, but its reliance on withering taunts (and its obvious amusement at its own jokes) distinguish it from other pretenders. And ‘Nuthutch’ is an inspired name for the Wholeweal Community HQ – we get the sense Jones has pluckily taken a variant of ‘nut hatch’ to thumb his nose at his movement’s detractors.

But the most interesting thing about ‘The Green Death’ isn’t maggots, or pollution, or sinister corporate conspiracies, or glowing green corpses. Instead, it’s the kind of sad psychodrama that hangs around the edges of the story – that of the Third Doctor saying goodbye to Jo Grant. Many fans have criticized the suggestion of romantic love in the new Doctor Who series (and in the Paul McGann movie before it) - but some have argued that other Doctors have loved other companions before, however tacitly. And ‘The Green Death’s’ presentation of the Doctor and Jo is a convincing example.

Indulge me for a moment. From the beginning of the story, we see the Doctor looking at Jo in a light other than the traditional adventurer/companion one. He asks her to come with him to Metebelis 3, and he does so with an air of it being a ‘getaway’ for them both. When she refuses, he says in that case he’ll take her wherever she wishes to go – an unusual break in character for this self-absorbed Time Lord. When she argues with him, he comes as close to flirting as he ever does, mimicking her and getting her to laugh. 

Ultimately, she tells him that she chooses instead to join Professor Jones, whom she describes as “a sort of younger you” (this description turns out to be fairly apt, considering the impatience and neglect with which Jones treats her throughout the story). The Doctor accepts this, but not terribly gracefully – he snaps at the Brigadier when asked for help (“I wouldn’t advise you to try!”), and we can’t help feeling he’s out to prove something when picking a fight with Global Chemicals security in episode two (“I’m quite spry for my age”). Actually, a subtext about age and aging runs throughout the story (Jones not being recognized because of his youth, and “the fledgling flies the coop” are other examples) – very unusual for Doctor Who.

Of course, none of this is overstated, but it does skim along just beneath the surface, and the quiet, subtle way in which the matter is resolved makes it all the more affecting. As for the actors, Katy Manning overdoes the klutziness a bit in episode one, but as the story goes on she settles in, and Pertwee is in magnificent form (I love his genuinely aghast “Good grief!” when he sees the maggots). But perhaps the performance that makes it all work is Stewart Bevan’s as Jones himself. As I mentioned, he treats Jo in rather callous (and Doctorish) ways throughout this story, and yet Bevan’s choice to play him as a smart but goofy Welsh kid is a good one, and ultimately endears the character to us. How easy it would have been for him to fail here – for which viewer would choose anyone over the Doctor? But Bevan is so playful in the role, and his affection for Jo seems so genuine, that in the end we are happy with her choice. You could say that Clifford Jones the character is conceived as a combination of the best parts of the Doctor and Jo, and Bevan pulls it off very well indeed.

All in all, a strange story, probably worth more than the sum of its parts.

The Green Death is certainly one of the Doctor Who stories most strongly remembered by the general public. The maggots are a deeply ingrained image in the public psyche, though whether that is a positive association for Doctor Who as a brand is a matter for debate. The story is also highly regarded amongst fans and was a popular choice for release on DVD. The title outsells the rest of the ‘classic’ Doctor Who range by virtue of its crossing the fan/collector barrier and appealing to the broader market. Outselling such heavyweights as ‘Talons of Weng Chiang’ and ‘Ghostlight’.

Why is it such a popular story? It is a strong representation of early seventies Who, having all the essential ingredients present; Pertwee, Manning, UNIT, beasties and Bessie. The one element of the era that is missing is the Master; Roger Delgado tragically died days before the last episode of this story was broadcast. The script is tightly plotted and leaves little room for the serial to drag. The characterisation of the regulars is strong, and the roles of Cliff Jones, Stevens and, of course, BOSS stand out as well defined parts amongst a dramatis personae of bland stereotypes and comedy welsh accents (with the exception of Talfryn Thomas' real accent).

Robert Sloman certainly had his finger on the pulse when he concocted this eco thriller which plays on the paranoia and suspicion of large multinational companies and their unscrupulous practices. Such paranoia might have seemed a new idea in 1973 but is still all too depressingly familiar to we ethical consumers of the 21st century. The flip side of that is that the Green Death is just as relevant today as it was thirty years ago; a fact that bolsters its continued popularity. Doctor Who tackling relevant issues? It’s not a new idea. That the story also manages to make proper use of a six episode format is another feather in its overcrowded cap.

The production values are good, the show looks smart and the effects are great – right up until the dismal CSO of episode X. The overambitious showdown between the Doctor and Benton and a bazillion biohazard maggots is like a steel gauntlet pulled straight from the freezer crushing my heart into a sticky red paste. The failure of this sequence is all the more sad due to the success of the effects and the design throughout the rest of the serial. The Nuthatch, the Mine, Global Chemicals and especially the BOSS control room (cannibalised from Gerry Anderson cast offs) are convincing sets and the location work is excellent. The stock footage of mine machinery blends in well and lends credibility to the show. The maggots themselves are a simple design but very effective. The first few sightings of them are genuinely creepy.

Katy Manning has something to do other than look pretty in this story. She falls in love (though it’s difficult to believe the marriage was long-lived), she develops a social conscience and she gets to treat the Doctor badly. All whilst modelling some great hippy-chic outfits thought Jo Grants idea of evening wear might send a shiver down the servos of Trin-e and Zu-Zana. Pertwee is magnificent; clearly relishing the opportunities to dress up and use different accents. Not to mention the way he plays the Doctors reaction to Jo’s development. The look on his face when he finds Jo and Cliff in a clinch is fantastic. His final scenes – especially when he downs his drink and leaves during the toast – are beautifully performed. Jo Grant is right off his Christmas list. The UNIT crew are present and correct and get some decent screen time, probably for the last time until 1989’s ‘Battlefield’.

Jerome Willis gives a good turn as the unflappable front man for Global Chemicals machinations. His ultimate sacrifice does undermine his evil Captain Peacock a little though. Stuart Bevan is great, though Cliff Jones is a bit of a ponce. The scenes between him and Katy Manning work very well – though they should certainly have had a good rapport seeing as they were a couple at the time. John Dearth as the maniacal, humming, singing and if it had legs dancing computer BOSS is a treat. The confrontation between BOSS and the Doctor is particularly striking and well played on both sides. The insane, arrogant computer is as truly frightening as it is oxymoronic.

In many ways The Green Death is the last great Pertwee story. It was around here at the end of season ten with Katy Manning leaving and Roger Delgado passed away, Barry Letts and Terrance Dicks talking about moving on that Jon Pertwee decided it was time to let someone else have all the fun. 

Why is the Green Death so popular? It is a great success as a piece of science-fiction drama, and everyone involved in the production is playing at the peak of their ability. The only black mark on the whole scorecard is some bad CSO. It’s spectacularly bad CSO but even so compare that to some other stories; stories that dream of just having bad CSO.