'The Horns of Nimon' seems to be condemned by a large number of fans as one of Doctor Who's nadirs. Notorious for its immense silliness, it is often described as "pantomimesque", critics arguing that it has daft monsters, very cheap looking sets, a villain who is so far over the top he can see the other side, and Tom Baker at his most unrestrained and manic. They are quite correct in all of these things, but it is precisely for these reasons that I adore 'The Horns of Nimon'. 

Under the guiding hand of Douglas Adams, Season Seventeen is rife with silliness, due to the combination of intentional comedy and Tom Baker getting increasingly uncontrollable. Adams used to remark that comedy in Doctor Who should not be an excuse for wheeling out silly walks, but in the case of 'The Horns of Nimon', he was clearly pissing into the wind. But whereas in 'Nightmare of Eden', the comedy and silliness could be intrusive and undermined the otherwise quite serious premise, here the comedy and silliness become more important than the plot. And even if they weren't, the plot involves alien Minotaurs sucking planets dry, a far less weighty storyline than one that revolves around drug dealing. Thus, from the very beginning of Episode One, 'The Horns of Nimon' revels in wit and farce; there are hugely entertaining scenes in the TARDIS with the Doctor, Romana and K9 bickering affectionately, and Baker is at his funniest, whether he is trying unsuccessfully to win over the Co-Pilot with his characteristic flippancy, pinning a rosette on K9 in what he briefly thinks are his final moments, or trying to repair the TARDIS. The Discontinuity Guide lists the "various silly 'boing!' noises" as a goof, but I feel this is missing the point; whilst reeling from these very sounds (which do indeed include "boing!" as well as a car-horn), only a viewer with a heart of stone (or, admittedly, a more sophisticated sense of humour than myself) could fail to be amused by Baker's thoughtful and extremely deadpan "That's very odd". Most of the Doctor's clowning around falls flat in the retelling, but the sight of him giving mouth-to-mouth respiration to K9 sums up Adams' tenure for me, and because of the overall feeling of the story, it amuses, whereas K9' laryngitis in 'Destiny of the Daleks' just irritated me. Later, we have Baker competing with Graham Crowden for most manic performance as he finds his gravitic anomaliser in Soldeed's lab, followed by him Hiding in Plain sight in true pantomime fashion, as he is chased by Sorak's men. Worthy of final note are his pained cry of "Ooh, my gravitic anomaliser!" and his response to the Nimon's "Later, you will be questioned, tortured and killed", which is of course "Well, I hope you get it in the right order!"

I've noted that earlier in the season, most of the humour is confined to the Doctor in 'City of Death', but starts to extend to other characters in both 'The Creature From the Pit' and 'Nightmare of Eden'. In 'The Horns of Nimon', the humour extends to virtually everyone, and is generally handled very well. I continue to find that David Brierley's performance as K9 is more suited to witty dialogue than John Leeson's is, probably just because he sounds haughtier, and his frequently rather prim response to the Doctor in this story demonstrate this very well. Lalla Ward also gets some great lines, and as usual plays her role perfectly straight, which is what she does best; aside from providing a nice counterpoint to Baker's eccentricity, it means that when she does get funny lines, they are more disarming ("He lives in the Power Complex" "That fits!"). It also allows writer (and former script editor) Anthony Read to convey some drama in a story filled with more than its fair share of clowning around, as Romana travels to the doomed planet Crinoth and encounters Sezom. But it isn't even just the regulars who get all the funny bits here…

Malcolm Terris's performance as the Co-Pilot deserves a mention, and since he's so often overlooked, I'm going to take this opportunity to sing his praises. He gets one funny line, which is "Weakling scum!", but he uses it several times, since the Co-Pilot bellows it every time he sees the Anethans. It's utterly daft, but he delivers it with such contempt that is both amusing and convincing. Indeed, Terris manages to make the Co-Pilot seems spectacularly pissed off throughout, as he vents his anger and frustration on the Doctor and Romana in early episodes. Later, on Skonnos, Soldeed overshadows the character before he meets his end in the Power Complex, but Terris really does convey a sense of impotent terror as his character is forced into the Nimon's lair. Michael Osbourne's Sorak is also worth a mention; he doesn't get any particularly memorable lines, and he plays his role fairly straight, but it's worth watching out for the way he looks at Crowden, which not surprisingly suggests that Sorak thinks he's working for a nutter. I'd also like to point out John Bailey's performance as Sezom, but only so that I can note that he last appeared in the series as Victoria Waterfield's late lamented father Edward in 'The Evil of the Daleks'. Sadly, I can't commend either of the main Anethans; Simon Gipps-Kent's Seth is adequate but dull, and Janet Ellis, who plays Teka, is a woman whose work in any medium irritates me to such a degree that it makes me want to smash my television with a hammer and send it to the head of BBC. She's probably a lovely woman, and I have nothing against her personally, I just find her irrationally annoying on television.

This cast rundown naturally enough brings me to Graham Crowden as Soldeed. It's astonishing really that he ever got away with it; it's even more astonishing that he's bloody great. Soldeed is probably the most over the top villain in the entire series, as Crowden rolls his eyes, grins madly, laughs manically in a way that nobody in real life ever would, and generally sends the entire story up. Whereas Lewis Fiander just infuriated me in 'Nightmare of Eden', Crowden just entertains me, whether walking through the Power Complex calling out "Lord Niiimon!", or getting a ridiculously overblown death scene during which he cries out "You fools! You're all doomed! Doomed! Bwa-hah-ha!" Soldeed in fact is arguably the most pantomimesque factor in the entire story and easily the most memorable. Clearly getting the measure of both actor and character, costume designer June Hudson gives him an elaborate affair that boasts a bejeweled collar and a big cloak, although it does rather pale into insignificance next to Sorak's, which needs to be seen to be believed. These elaborate costumes contrast with the rather under-dressed sets, which except for the Nimon's control centre and Soldeed's laboratory, are all rather stark. This should be to the story's detriment, but somehow it contributes to the overall pantomime feel. Perhaps pantomime is the wrong word; the story has the look and feel of a stage production, probably due to its relatively low budget. And if anyone needs convincing of this, go and see a stage performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream and then compare and contrast Bottom's ass head with those used for the Nimons…

I haven't discussed the Nimons yet, but I actually rather like them. After Erato and the Mandrels they seem perfectly at home in Season Seventeen, although they do still look daft, with their big and unconvincing heads, atop the bodies of lanky actors in platform shoes and velvet body stockings. Their rumbling voices are actually quite good, and the fact that they are so much taller than the characters around them allows them to look at least a little imposing. But what the execution lacks, the concept makes up for; the Nimons may be cheap Minotaur rip-offs, but they are nevertheless a race that can suck entire planets dry like intergalactic locusts, whose technology impresses both the Doctor and Romana, and that are capable of engineering and controlling black holes. All in all, that's not bad going. And they are nasty; in such a humorous story, the fact that the Nimons are not used as a source of entertainment but are presented as a menace gives them some impact amongst the frivolous proceedings. 

I'm not going to pretend that 'The Horns of Nimon' is amongst Doctor Who's greatest stories, but it is hugely enjoyable. So many issues that would really annoy me in other stories just don't bother me here because the whole damn thing is just so entertaining. For example, Skonnos is a hugely unconvincing alien world, populated by a handful of extras in a few drab sets. You can mention the civil war if you want, but when the Doctor views the Power Complex from above in Episode Two, there's nothing around it but barren rock! Is it worth the Nimons' effort to invade? Does it seem like an ideal source of food and resources? Really? Well, I don't care, because the story makes me grin so much. As the last broadcast story of Season Seventeen, it isn't perhaps the best swansong that Graham Williams and Douglas Adams could have hoped for, but it does have an end-of-year celebratory feel and it does make me laugh. And besides, it was never meant to be the season finale…

Prior to the explosion of the Internet my only knowledge of 'Shada' came from the episode guide in Peter Haining's book Doctor Who - A Celebration. With only the barest remnant of a plot synopsis, it revealed little of the story, and in those days I had no access to either the script or any other source of information regarding it. Consequently, when Doctor Who Magazineannounced that 'Shada' was to be released on video with linking narration to bridge the missing scenes and a copy of the script, I was hugely excited at the chance to see what was, effectively, a brand new Doctor Who story staring Tom Baker. With 'Shada' thus available, I was finally able to see if it lived up to its legendary status. The question remains therefore, is 'Shada' actually any good?

The answer to this question, at least as far as I am concerned, is yes. I'm not about to pretend that 'Shada' is some great lost classic, because it isn't, but nor is it the turkey that some fans consider it to be. It is however a highly entertaining story that is well worth watching. Intended to be the finale of Season Seventeen, 'Shada' captures many of that season's finest qualities, and feels very much at home in the Williams/Adams era, as might be expected. There is humour aplenty, and great use is made of the regulars. There is an outlandish plot that juxtaposes the familiar with the extraordinary, as highlighted by the characters of Chris and Claire, and there are some fine performances from the guest cast, who are given some sparkling lines to play with. But what I love most of all about 'Shada' is the wealth of concepts that Douglas Adams unleashes from the depths of his fertile imagination. I love the idea of a Cambridge Professor being a retired Time Lord whose TARDIS is disguised as his collage rooms; I love the wonderful silliness of the Doctor convincing Skagra's ship that he is dead; and I love the idea of the Sphere. The Sphere in a particular is a great plot device, a hovering football-sized menace that is virtually indestructible and which steals minds, leaving their owners as mindless zombies. As threats go, I find this far more chilling than the threat of death; instead, the Sphere takes everything that makes a person unique, stealing their entire personality and memories and adding them to Skagra's melting pot of minds as part of his selfish desire to join every intellect in the universe to his own. Visually, the Sphere is bizarrely effective; it is nothing but a matt featureless grey globe, but its abilities and invulnerability make it a potent threat; during the resolution to the Episode Two cliffhanger, the Doctor is only able to escape the Sphere thanks to Romana and K9's timely rescue, and later when K9 attempts to destroy it in an unrecorded scene in Episode Five, it merely multiplies itself from the resulting fragments. With the chase through Cambridge in Episode Two completed thanks to the use of Paintbox to add the Sphere to the picture, this becomes one of the most enduring images of the story. 

The Sphere's creator and master, Skagra, is also of note. As in 'The Pirate Planet' and 'City of Death', Adams creates a villain who is more than just a ranting megalomaniac, although Skagra is perhaps the most megalomaniac of Adams' Doctor Whovillains. Despite his protestations in Episode Five, Skagra does basically want to rule the universe, but his motivation and means of achieving his goal make him rather more interesting than he might otherwise be. Ruthless, arrogant and callous he may be, but an unrecorded conversation with Romana from Episode Four implies that his ultimate aim is to bring productive and meaningless order to what he sees as the random chaos of life in the universe; he later talks of achieving the ultimate aim of evolution, by creating one single godlike universal mind. This is hardly a valid justification for his crimes; as the Doctor points out, Skagra doesn't bother to ask anyone else if they want to join their minds to his, but at least he has more vision than someDoctor Who villains. One of my main sources of regret of 'Shada's incomplete status is that Christopher Neame never got the chance to record all his scenes. Whilst I've heard his performance described as "camp" (a word that seems to be used with little consistency between different fans), my personal opinion is that his recorded scenes demonstrate a cold, rather sinister performance that perfectly fits Skagra's restrained personality throughout the script. He seldom indulges in verbal sparring with the Doctor or Romana, instead seeking to achieve his aims as efficiently as possible, and Neame's intense focus befits this personality very well. Indeed the only time Skagra really loses his composure is during his final scene (which happily, was recorded), as his Ship gleefully imprisons him, having switched her allegiance to the Doctor. Even when Skagra is gloating, his dialogue suggests a very matter of fact, business-like attitude, which perhaps explains why he is so frustrated by what he sees as the wasted opportunity that is life throughout the universe, possibly believing that great things could be achieved if everyone thinks like he does. Besides, Neame manages to look passably sinister in a broad-brimmed hat and silver cloak, which is impressive by anyone's standards, although I think I'd rather wander around Cambridge dressed like that than wearing the corduroy nightmare that he dons later. 

Having discussed Skagra and his Sphere, it is also worth mentioning his other two creations. The Ship is a great character, tricked by computer logic into obeying the "dead" Doctor, despite being highly suspicious about this state of affairs. The fact that she eventually betrays Skagra because she likes what the Doctor has done to her circuits is rather amusing, and typical Adams; it's also refreshing to see a villain hoist by his own petard but left alive, humiliated and defeated, at the end of aDoctor Who story, instead of meeting a more traditionally grisly fate. I also suspect that the Ship is not actually the slave to logic that she claims to be; her treachery in Episode Six suggests that she is a fully fledged personality in her own right, and it would be in keeping with Adams' irreverent sense of humour if she simply went along with the Doctor's daft argument in Episode Three because she was intrigued by him. I'm hypothesizing of course, but if this is the case, it might also suggest that her cutting off of the oxygen supply at the end of Episode Three is born out of a desire to deflate the Doctor's smug satisfaction that he's seemingly outwitted her, rather than because she feels the need to conserve resources. 

Skagra's other creation is the Krargs. If I recall correctly, when 'Shada' was first released on video, the review in Doctor Who Magazine suggested that we be grateful for the fact that only one scene was actually recorded with a Krarg, since it looks terrible. I find this rather amusing, given that Season Seventeen boasts Erato, the Mandrels and the Nimon, and I for one am glad that footage of a Krarg exists. In fact, the cliffhanger to Episode Four, as a burning Krarg advances on the Doctor and Chris is one of my favourites of the season. Whilst the Krarg is not one of the series' finest monsters, it does have a certain unstoppable menace to it that works rather well, despite its flares, and its lack of visible features adds to its ominous air. With K9 often used as a convenient tool by writers to deal with threats to the Doctor, the Krargs serve another purpose, since K9 cannot shoot them without making them stronger and cannot hold them off at all without shooting them. Combined with the Sphere, the Ship, and Doctor Caldera's assessment of Skagra's genius, the Krargs also help to convey just how formidable an opponent Skagra really is. 

Despite the wealth of imaginative concepts that litter 'Shada', not all of them work well. Douglas Adams is renowned for using technobabble to gloss over trivial plot details, but he pushes his luck by actually glossing over explanations for plot developments. The Doctor's survival of the Sphere's attack by convincing it that he is very stupid so that it only takes a copy of his mind doesn't really make sense, nor does Professor Chronotis' impromptu resurrection. On the other hand, the latter means that we get more of Chronotis, which is no bad thing. For one thing, he's a great character; Denis Carey's portrayal of the absent minded old man in Episodes One and Two is thoroughly endearing and allows for some witty dialogue, as he tries to remember what his memory is like ("a sieve!") and makes jokes about undergraduates. Some of this humour misfires, most notably the "One lump or two… sugar?" joke, which doesn't really work, but on the whole these early scenes are a delight. It's particularly nice to see the Doctor's obvious pleasure in seeing his old friend, which Tom Baker demonstrates very well. The Doctor's obvious inability to stay angry at the old man's carelessness in losing The Ancient and Worshipful Law of Gallifrey is rather touching, and his restrained anger when he discovers that Skagra has killed one of his oldest friends is palpable, Baker once more showing off his ability to clearly evoke the Doctor's mercurial personality. In addition however, Carey shows the Professor's hidden complexities; with the sadly unrecorded revelation that he is the notorious criminal Salyavin, Chronotis' occasionally glimpsed darker side is highly significant, and Carey plays it very well. The Professor's absent mindedness vanishes once he realises who Skagra is really after, and he becomes both grave and deadly serious when he is explaining things to Claire. On the other hand, he never becomes scary, which suggests that the Doctor is quite right to believe that the tales of Salyavin's crimes were massively exaggerated, an idea that the final scripted scene amusingly toys with as the Doctor ponders that he might one day be remembered in much the same way. 

From what recorded material exists of 'Shada', it would seem that the acting is quite good throughout. Daniel Hill is great as Arthur Dent prototype Chris Parsons, dragged reluctantly into a baffling set of circumstances that demolish everything he thinks he knows about physics, and he provides an entertaining foil for the Doctor. This is most obvious during the recorded footage from Episode Four, but it is also evident throughout the rest of the script. Victoria Burgoyne also puts in a good effort as Claire Keightly, in a sadly aborted television debut, and I also have to mention Gerald Campion's performance as Wilkin, which adds to the charmingly eccentric air of the Cambridge University scenes. The regulars are also up to their usual standards, and in fact Adams' script shows the Doctor and Romana as close as they ever got, as they relax in a punt on the Cam on a pleasant October day and have tea and biscuits with the Professor. There is also a great scene in Episode Six, when in the midst of worrying about how he can possible stop Skagra, the Doctor is inspired by Romana and pins a medal to her chest, again showing how well they work together as a team. 

As for the production of 'Shada', it stands up reasonably well. The location filming in Cambridge is gorgeous, and whilst the bicycle chase in Episode Two is pure padding, it is more than worth it. The actual sets are variable; the antiquarian clutter of Chronotis's study meshes perfectly with the location work; the interior of Skagra's Ship and the space station are less impressive, but they are perfectly at home in Season Seventeen. This is also true of the model work, completed for the video release, which looks rather cheap but thus suits the era rather well. What does not suit the era however, is Keff McCulloch's incidental music. McCulloch's music doesn't annoy me as much a sit does some fans, who positively detest his work, and on occasion it works quite well here, such as when the Krarg advances to a thunderous crescendo at the climax to Episode Four, but more often than not it is either intrusive or inappropriate. An example of the former is when Skagra first meets Wilkin and arrogantly barks "You!", a conversation that is almost drowned out by McCulloch's score, and an example of the latter is the bizarrely sinister sting added to the "One lump or two" joke in Episode One. On the subject of irritating production details, Chronotis's incredible vanishing spectacles when the Sphere attacks him in Episode Two are oddly distracting. Finally, one last complaint about a scene that was never even filmed! According to popular legend, the prisoners on Shada in Episode Five would have including a Dalek, a Cyberman, and a Zygon. This would, I can assure you, have annoyed me beyond reason. Why would the Time Lords, who time loop planets and dematerialize aggressive alien interlopers, bother to actually imprison a lone Dalek, Cyberman, or Zygon on a planet reserved for, we are told, their "most feared criminals?" 

In summary, I am enormously fond of 'Shada'. Much as I like 'The Horns of Nimon', 'Shada', despite some faults, would have made a much more fitting season finale, and a far better swansong for Graham Williams and Douglas Adams, and I'd much rather it had been the last broadcast six-part Doctor Who story rather than the abysmal 'The Armageddon Factor'. As it stands however, I consider myself fortunate that it was eventually released on video and I will continue to appreciate as far more than just a mere curiosity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What should or could have been a promising story was let down by a combination of things. After the okayish Destiny of the Daleks and the brilliant City of Death, I felt let down somewhat by the revelation that the Creature in Of The Pit was actually a good-natured monster - I like monsters to be monsters. And then there was the Nightmare of Eden.

What most let it down was the downright comic way the mandrels were dealt with in part 4, reduced to shaggy dogs following a tin whistle. The humour in the show had by now really reached a ridiculous level, and I felt that sending up the mandrels was really sending up the show itself. The mandrels themselves looked quite cool, I thought. Okay, they had flares but also wonderful green glowing eyes and corrugated shells for mouths, and at least their claws looked quite fierce. The problem was making the audience laugh at what had been up till that point a serious sci-fi show, by demeaning not only the monsters but the Doctor himself. 'My arms my legs, my everything,' indeed! Tom Baker's character had sunk to previously un plummeted depths with the sheer over the topness of his performance in the cet machine and his hamming it up was cringe-inducing. Oh, Doctor! I like a little humour and odd quip, sure, but this pudding was so over -egged it was more egg then pudding. In fact, I once heard that Tom Baker once wanted the cybermen to do Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers type dancing and to use that idea in a show. Is it possible to even imagine anyone taking dr who seriously after that, and I wonder how much of the mandrel's swan song was his idea.

The two customs men, Fisk and Costa, were made a bit more ludicrous than they should have been. Captain Rigg was excellent throughout but after he was shot down like a dog in part 3, crazed on vraxoin, nobody seemed to care about him afterwards. He was a good man who met a thoroughly undeserved end and all Romana felt was relief once he'd been shot. I dunno. Someone should have cared!

The Doctor's famous contempt scene towards Trist at the end didn't work - okay he was a drug dealer but he thought he was a goody, protecting endangered animals and suchlike, and he didn't even shoot anyone! Well, apart from Stott and can anyone blame him for that? I just felt that other foes that the fourth doctor had dealt with were far more deserving of the rough edge of his tongue, and as for his gall in using such (for the doctor) shocking contempt so soon after his clowning around scene, just beggared belief.These two very different aspects of the doctor should not even have been in the same story, let alone the same episode. I know drugs are evil, man, and the doctor is a role model, but still.

So basically, what started out as a very promising story in my opinion fell a little flat. Take out a little contempt, and a great deal of Michael Barrymore-type showing off from the Doctor and do something else with the mandrels and it would all have been better. But it would not have been the Nightmare of Eden.

God help me, and please don't run in the other direction when I tell you this, I'm the world's biggest fan of Nightmare of Eden. Unabashedly, unapologetically so. It's my favorite Doctor Who story, and when I say that to people who know me, even the ones who have known this fact for a long time, they usually turn their noses and scoff and shake their heads. How on earth could I love such a story that features monsters with flairs? One with such a hammy acting job with a terrible accent? Or, here's the big one, a story that features the immortal line, "Oh, my arms, my legs, my everything!"

It's rather difficult to explain, until you look at the facts. Nightmare of Eden is a quintessential science fiction story -- high concept (the CET machine), a morality play (the dangers of drug abuse), set in familiar trappings (in this case, on a space cruise liner), with plenty of action and adventure and subterfuge, not to mention comedy and drama in equal measures. There is some wonderful work by Tom Baker and Lalla Ward here, perhaps some of the best work they ever offered in Doctor Who. Case in point: the Doctor's justification to Captain Rigg (the delightful David Daker), in which he argues that he does indeed work for Galactic Salvage and Casualty despite their going out of business many years before -- "I wondered why I hadn't been paid." Compare that to the wonderful sequence at the end where the Doctor tells Tryst (Lewis Fiander, and yes, I agree his accent's more than a bit over the top) to get out of his sight; you can tell how truly pissed off the Doctor is at that moment, how sad and angry and bitter and furious and despondent the whole thing has made him feel. Lalla Ward equally exercises her acting chops with some terrific one liners -- I absolutely adore the "I'll need a screwdriver" line... contrary to some opinions that it's simply bad writing, I feel it's a tremendous send-up of Doctor Who writers who so often used the deus ex machina (the sonic screwdriver, K-9, the Time Lords) to get our heroes out of trouble. But far more often, Romana looks like she feels equally interested and bored, sometimes at the same time. "Oh, don't mind him, he just likes to irritate people"; has there ever been a more fundamentally truthful word out of the mouth of a Doctor Who companion? I think not.

The plot, if you haven't ever seen the story (in which case, you're really missing a treat) is quite complex for a Doctor Who story: a luxury cruise liner is sidelined when it collides with a cargo vessel. While the Doctor and Romana help to separate the ships, the Doctor uncovers a sinister link between a possible drug smuggling ring and a brilliant professor's newest project: the Continuous Event Transmuter, a device that studies and catalogues alien life by storing hologrammatic images on crystal recordings. However, it appears that the C.E.T. does far more than that, and may be responsible when hideous monsters start attacking the passengers and crew. Can the Doctor and Romana stop the bloodshed, find the man who keeps peering out at them from the projection, and stop the drug trade all at the same time? It's a lovely story about morality -- not only the dangers of drug addiction but also the rights of life, however savage and misunderstood, to continue its own existence. Even if they evolve into hideous bug-eyed beasts with flairs. Oh, my arms, my legs, my trousers...

Sure, there are lots of corridors -- all of them yellow. Yes, the passengers of the Empress seem to be wearing coveralls and goggles for no apparent reason, and all seem to be confined to one cramped room. (Maybe they're steerage, and the first class passengers are all having a brandy? Who knows?) Yes, it does seem that the Doctor embarks on his mission to separate the ships... four... different... times. It ultimately doesn't matter, because if you can get past some of the more dodgy aspects of its production (and let's face it, if you care about cheap yellow corridors, what the hell are you doing being a Doctor Who fan?), you can see this story for what it is: high adventure, filled with twists and turns. Even after you think you've got everything sorted, along comes this guy looking out at you through the C.E.T. projection. And we think he's bad, until we find out he's not. And his girlfriend's aboard. And... well, the bad guys turn out to be the good guys, and the good guy we like at the beginning isn't so good anymore. What is amazing is that at the end of the story, we honestly feel that while Tryst is a bad guy, HE doesn't feel he's done anything wrong. And so we're presented with a final morality issue, Tryst sacrificing human scruples (in this case, addiction to vraxoin) for the sake of preserving the Mandrels. 

Nightmare of Eden has just the right amount of comedy and pathos to make it a winner. I don't know why it's so misunderstood; maybe it's the flair monsters, the yellow walls, or the over-the-top Tryst performance. It does, however, boast a superb screenplay, some nifty acting on the part of regulars and guest actors alike, and holds up after repeated viewings. And I love it to pieces.

I bet there must be at least a few people reading this wondering what I'm doing reviewing a release that's over four years old. Well, I can give you two for starters: One, nobody else has bothered to review it; Two, I think it's an absolute gem, and I feel duty-bound to tell everyone else what a good adventure this is.

To enjoy Nightmare of Eden, the viewer needs to get rid of a few preconceptions- Firstly, pretend it's not a Season 17 story. Secondly, it does require a kind eye. If you like your Doctor Who to be glossy and place style over substance, then nothing I will say here will convince you that it's anything but cheap pap. But, if it's the little things like a good, engaging plot that you want, then this is for you.

Bob Baker, along with his long-time writing partner Dave Martin, wrote numerous stories for Doctor Who throughout the 1970's, some of which had the most zany plots ever to grace the show. So anyone expecting an outlandish adventure will be pleasantly surprised to find that Eden has it's plot pretty much rooted to the ground- well, as rooted as a story set on a spaceship can be, anyway. The story centres on a collision between a hyperspace collision between a passenger spaceliner and a privateer vessel, which leaves the two ships stranded in orbit around the planet Azure, with the passengers' lives in peril. Posing as Galactic Salvage and Insurance, the Doctor and Romana answer the distress call, and attempt to separate the two ships, only to discover that the passenger ship is infested with a deadly race of creatures, the Mandrells. As if that wasn't enough, one of the Mandrell's victims is found to be taking the deadly drug Vraxoin- thought to have been stamped out long ago. Naturally, as the Doctor tries to identify who has discovered a new source of the drug, he finds himself under suspicion from the authorities.

All the interconnected threads of the story fit together nicely. In the 1970's, I imagine there can't have been too many mainstream shows in Britain that would have been prepared to tackle the issue of drugs, as much a current affairs hot potato then as it ever was, head-on like this. So, it's the show's credit that the drug-smuggling plot is so well handled. This is no small part down David Daker; whose performance as the drug addicted Captain Rigg is chilling. If it had been Robert Holmes writing the story, we'd be applauding it, and it also proves Season 17 wasn't just about witty one-liners. Of particular note are two scenes in episode Three: the first sees Rigg laughing as he watches, via the ship's the monitors, the Mandrells on a murdering rampage. When questioned, he quips; 'What does it matter, they're only economy class?!' The second sees him beg a shocked Romana, 'I need something for this feeling,' as the effects of his addiction take hold. Daker's delivery is superb, and thoroughly convincing.

It's a pity, then, that he doesn't get better support from the rest of the guest cast. Barry Andrews puts in a good turn as the undercover agent Stott, but is given little to do except shoot at Mandrells, and explain the odd plot development. The two actors in more central roles are a bit more disappointing- particularly Lewis Fiander as the scientist Tryst, whose European accent is atrocious- it even varies between German, French and Italian as the story goes on! (On that note, why is it that Doctor Who could never have a mad scientist speaking in an English accent?) Whilst Geoffrey Bateman as Dymond shows less life than the scenery. Speaking of which…

Oh the spaceship sets look awfully cheap. There are probably worse examples knocking around, but that doesn't mean that these sets are good. Which is a shame, as the forest scenery is, for the second story in succession, actually rather good. It's not quite up there with the one they managed for 'Creature from the Pit' but it's a good effort nonetheless, and a rare positive for the design team in a serial where the production values have hit the floor. The Mandrells are supposed to induce shock when they make their appearance at the end of Episode One- instead; you're more likely to piss yourself laughing! And the costumes are terrible too, but more of that later.

So again, it's down to Tom and Lalla to bring some credibility to the story. So much of their success as a team was down to their terrific on-screen chemistry, so it's nice to watch a story that gives them the opportunity to show off as individuals. This story finds Tom Baker, in one of his more jovial moods, which won't be to everyone's liking. Of all the stories of Season 17, this is probably the one that got the least input from Douglas Adams. There's humour there alright, but to my mind it doesn't posses the trademark subtleness and intelligence of Adams, making me believe that Tom himself made a few amendments to his dialogue in an attempt to wring a bit more humour from the script. As this probably implies, it threatens to get very silly at times. If his 'Pied Piper' trick isn't taking things too far, then the infamous 'My arms, my legs, my everything!' line certainly is. That said, it's difficult to criticise Tom too much- his mere presence seems to transcend every scene he's in, and at least he's curbed his once-worrying tendency to overact when the situation least needed him to. Lalla Ward comes out with real credit, though she's helped by a storyline that doesn't involve her having to follow the Doctor's every move. It's just a pity that the awful costume she's wearing makes her look pregnant. Why on earth couldn't they have just given her the great 'Doctor' costume she wore for Destiny of the Daleks? This is a relatively minor quibble as by now, Lalla has well and truly hit her stride, and has made the role of Romana her own.

So there you have it. How much enjoyment you get from this story depends very much on what put in, so to speak. The production as a whole has some very obvious flaws, and I can't pretend otherwise. How you react to this will basically depend on whether you see your glass as half-empty or half-full. The fact is that Nightmare of Eden could have been, perhaps should have been, a lot better than it is, certainly from a production point of view. But then again, it could have been a whole lot worse, and if you're prepared to look past some of the negatives, or at least accept them, and go into the story looking to be entertained, then you will be. Fans of Tom's more madcap adventures will love this, and it's worth a watch, if only for it's plot. Give it a whirl.