‘The Mutants’ is the penultimate story of season nine, coming directly after ‘The Sea Devils’ - a story which is engraved on many fan hearts as being a classic. In my humble opinion, ‘The Mutants’, sadly, is not.

I shall begin by discussing the plot which, although superficially fairly sound (with an obvious anti-colonial message), has two major problems working against it:

1) The story tells of the Doctor and Jo being sent by the Time Lords to deliver a sealed message pod to an unknown person aboard a Skybase orbiting the planet Solos. At the beginning of the first episode, the message pod materialises in front of the Doctor. This begs a hugely important question that pretty much renders the story so convoluted as to be immediately dismissed: why did the Time Lords not simply materialise this pod in front of the unknown person in the first place’ Hmm’

2) It is stretched out over six episodes. This is far too long. By episode four it is really beginning to drag and, by episode 6, I was in serious doubt of how much I cared. Indeed, episodes three and four are almost entirely padding consisting of the Doctor and co. flitting fractiously between Skybase and fannying around in the caves on Solos.

There elements of the plot that are enjoyable, however. The life-cycle of the Solonians is interesting - and the idea that they mutate every 500 years is particularly quirky. The quest for the crystal is also well handled, and leads to some very bizarre sequences in the caves. The transformation of Ky into an ethereal super-being is also quite fascinating - and it’s realisation on screen suitably weird. Having said this, the story’s solution is completely unsatisfactory: the Marshal is killed and everyone just packs up and goes home. What a damp squib of an ending!

Episode one begins promisingly enough. The delightfully abstract opening titles that so define the Pertwee era fade into a wonderfully atmospheric sequence involving a Mutt being hunted across the swirling mists of the planet Solos. This is followed the group of Skybase guards in pursuit standing victoriously over it’s limp body as it lies broken on the ground. Very good, I thought.

And then Rick James (Cotton) opened his mouth to speak.

Now, let’s not beat around the bush. Rick James is quite the worst actor ever to have graced Doctor Who. He’s so atrociously dreadful that I’m surprised our beloved John Nathan-Turner didn’t later cast him as a certain Alzariun boy genius. Yes, Rick James is SO horrendous that he makes Matthew Waterhouse seem like Lawrence Olivier. Destroying every scene that he’s in, Rick has the expressional repertoire of Pinnochio and delivers his lines like a Dalek. He really is that bad. I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry when he uttered his first line, a description of Solos: ‘It-is-a-rot-ten-stin-king-hole-of-a-planet.’

I could decide, however, when it came to Paul Whitsun-Jones as the Marshal. Needless to say, I laughed. Like a strange cross between Arthur Lowe and Windsor Davies, Whitsun-Jones spends most of ‘The Mutants’ delivering his lines with such an air of malicious flippancy and untamed pomposity that almost everything he says or does is unintentionally amusing. At times - even when talking of such weighty matters as genocide - I half expected him to shout out ‘Don’t tell him, Pike!’ Whitsun-Jones is, quite frankly, highly entertaining as the Marshal. But, in a story charting the barbarity of oppression and colonialism, he’s highly entertaining for all the wrong reasons. 

James Mellor is okay as Varan - his performance is rather OTT but actually quite entertaining, if not a tad cringing, and rather suitable for the character. Christopher Cole is reasonably convincing as Stubbs. Unfortunately, his performance is detracted from by his character being, for the most part, paired with Rick James’ Cotton. Even a competent actor like Cole is not going to give his best when spending five episodes interacting with a cardboard cut-out. That said, he’s bound to be marginally better than when spending five episodes interacting with Rick James!

Of the rest of the supporting cast, I thought that most of them were rather good. John Hollis as Professor Sondergaard is excellent - very entertaining during the sequences in the caves, he steals every scene he’s in. Quirky and weird, it’s a shame Sondergaard only appears in the second half of the story - he’s certainly an interesting diversion, serving well to lighten up the flagging action. Garrick Hagon is also excellent. Reminding me slightly of Richard Beckinsale, he gives a really convincing performance as Ky - the most interesting character in the story.

Before I continue, I’d better mention Geoffrey Palmer. He’s an extremely talented actor and, as one would expect, is totally convincing as the short-lived Administrator, even managing to die (something which can easily look very false) quite well.

I shall now turn my attention to the regulars. The Third Doctor seems to be going down a bit of a blind ally by the time of ‘The Mutants.’ For me, he becomes remarkably less likable for a short period around this point in the series history. The character just seems to know ABSOLUTELY everything and seems utterly infallible. If he’s attacked, he performs a bit of venusian karate; if he’s trapped, he whips out his sonic screwdriver and escapes; if Jo asks him a question, he snaps back irritably; in short, he’s arrogant and un-likable. And his is not the arrogance that I find so amusing in the Sixth Doctor, where it is constantly and persistently pricked (and garnished with a liberal dose of fallibility), but an arrogance unchecked to an extent that the impression is given of the Doctor’s head being forced too far up his own proverbial chute. In short, the Third Doctor of late season nine is not particularly attractive, desperately in need of character development and a rethink - a shot across the bows that begins him back to reality (if there is any such thing as reality in ‘Doctor Who’!). This shot, thankfully, comes at the beginning of Season Ten, when he is forced through the humiliation of teaming up with his other selves in ‘The Three Doctors’.

Pertwee’s performance in ‘The Mutants’ is lazy. Most of it is spent fluffing his lines and delivering self-righteous speeches with absolutely no conviction at all. In short, he seems bored by the script and, perhaps, by the role.

Katy Manning is much better as Jo. Apart from coming across as a little stupid - at one point, the Doctor gives her a perfectly reasonable explanation of events and she still claims that she doesn’t understand - she remains likable and constantly bubbles with enthusiasm. Who cares if she’s not the best actress in the world’ I don’t - she’s got a nice bottom.

The Mutts are well realised on screen - looking like weird (and handily man-sized, when it comes to the costumes) ants. Their various stages of metamorphosis are also well done - all credit to visual effects for some superb looking creatures.

When it comes to incidental music, ‘The Mutants’ possesses the most dreadful I have ever heard in ‘Doctor Who’. Bizarre, yes, and, some would say, perfectly suited to the story but, in truth, it’s just darn right irritating. As with tropical skin diseases, one wishes a simple lotion could be bought to get rid of it forever.

All in all, ‘The Mutants’ is one of the most disappointing stories that ‘Doctor Who’ has ever turned out. Despite some good special effects and acceptable direction, the plot is hole-ridden, the incidental music is horrendous and the acting (in most cases) is well below par. Despite that, it is, in places, vaguely entertaining and, quite frankly, you can’t despise it. You can’t want it banished forever into the darkest caves of Solos. You can’t want to put a sword to its neck and scream, in true Varan style, ‘Die, Overlord!’ And do you know why? Because ‘The Mutants’ is six of the shoddiest episodes from the finest science fiction series ever made. And, as such, it’s far, far better than any of the trash that you’ll find on TV today.

I'd venture to suggest that 'The Three Doctors' is worse than in its immediate predecessor, except that I might get lynched; certainly, I find 'The Time Monster' easier to sit through. I was going to start by describing what I like about this story, but I couldn't really think of anything. So I'll start with the least negative thing I can think of.

The interaction between the different incarnations of the Doctor is of course the main selling point of 'The Three Doctors'. It is unfortunate that William Hartnell was in such poor health by this time that he has a very minor role, appearing only on the TARDIS scanner. I'm certainly not churlish enough to criticize Hartnell for being terminally ill, and I'm glad that he got the opportunity to play a role in a story celebrating the anniversary of the series the success of which he was instrumental in establishing. Whilst Hartnell's health means that the First Doctor is a mere shadow of his former self, there are brief glimpses of the indomitable old character from his era, and this is probably my favourite aspect of 'The Three Doctors'.

The other two Doctors however, are rather less entertaining than they should be. Troughton seems incapable of putting in a bad performance, so I suspect the problems with his performance here stem from the script, which reduce his Doctor to a caricature. Try and recall the Doctor who appeared in 'The Evil of the Daleks', 'The Tomb of the Cybermen', 'The Seeds of Death', or 'The War Games' and compare him with the Second Doctor here; the Second Doctor's fierce intelligence and palpable sense of urgency during times of danger are played down here so that his clown-like characteristics can be brought to the fore. Possibly Baker and Martin feel the need to pigeonhole him into the description ascribed to him by the First Doctor in their script, but the result is a Second Doctor who is in most ways watered down, and in one or two others grossly exaggerated. His constant prattling about his recorder annoys me just as much as it annoys Omega. 

Unfortunately, Pertwee isn't much better here either. As in 'The Time Monster', he seems to be on autopilot, and for the second story in a row this results in a threat to the entire universe being woefully underplayed. A good example is during the Third Doctor's scenes with Omega before his previous incarnation turns up; presumably, the Doctor is both humouring Omega and also suffering slightly from the fact that he is overawed at meeting a legend. Sadly, Pertwee fails to convey this and instead the Doctor just gives the impression that he's wondering when Omega will get around to offering him a cup of tea. As with 'The Time Monster', compare this with the Doctor's sense of urgency in 'The Dжmons', which despite being another story of which I'm none to fond, does demonstrate how well Pertwee can portray urgency and a sense of impending doom. The actual interaction between the Doctors has some merit, but personally I only find it interesting when they are cooperating; the bickering between the Second and Third Doctors seems to give Troughton and Pertwee their cue to start hamming their parts up. 

So that's the Doctor's out of the way; let's move onto the villain. Omega is potentially a rather sympathetic villain, who is clearly shown by the script to have been driven insane by millennia of solitude. In practice however, he's an over-the-top pantomime villain, thanks to Stephen Thorne's painfully unsubtle performance. Especially cringe-worthy is his bellowing cry of "Whaaaaaaat?!" when he discovers that the Doctors have escaped. When Omega is in jovial mood, Thorne sounds as though he's reading his lines for the first time and has had time to practice. When he's angry, he just sounds melodramatic without actually being convincing. I noticed on this occasion in particular just how stagy the scenes set in Omega's palace actually are, due partly to the sets (the rather tacky walls contrast unpleasantly with a bare studio floor), and the fact that Thorne gives the impression throughout that he is concentrating very hard on spotting his next cue. 

Then we have the Time Lords. There are two ways to demystify the all-powerful Time Lords first seen in 'The War Games'. The first is to present them as a thoroughly corrupt race of politicians as Robert Holmes does later in 'The Deadly Assassin'. The second is to have them portrayed by wooden actors spouting stilted dialogue in a day-glow nightmare of a set. Roy Purcell is especially dire as the President. And there's very little else to say about them.

What of the other regulars? Katy Manning is as good as ever, but Jo is present purely so that the presence of two Doctors can be explained in very laboured fashion. She does very little else here. She also plays a role in another cringe-worthy moment, after the Doctors have conjured up a door in the cell in Omega's palace. Again demonstrating the complete lack of anything approaching dramatic tension in this story, she and Benton are the last to leave after the Doctors and Tyler. Rather than rushing quickly out of their prison, they laugh about the others having all the fun and jog casually through the door. Nice to know they aren't worried about the prospect of universal Armageddon then… Benton is generally OK here, and I'm extremely grateful that with all the rubbish present here we are spared the addition of Mike Yates. However, Benton gets another terrible moment, in the TARDIS in episode one; the Second Doctor appears, the two Doctors start arguing and trying to explain the situation to Jo. Benton remains silent for a couple of minutes and then suddenly exclaims "Doctor! Where did you spring from?", as he greets the Second Doctor. This is again an example of bad scripting and sloppy direction, as it rather makes it appear that he has been waiting for his cue and has missed it because he hasn't been paying attention. And then there's the Brigadier…

By 'The Three Doctors' the Brigadier's character has reached an all time low. The intelligent military leader of Season Seven is long gone and has been replaced by an imbecile. The exaggerated coziness of the "UNIT family" has become so absurd here that Lethbridge-Stewart is reduced to a comic foil. Benton, one of the Brigadier's subordinates, has no problem understanding the events taking place around him, accepting two Doctors and the transportation of UNIT headquarters with ease. The Brigadier on the other hand understands nothing, presumably because Baker and Martin mistakenly think that this makes for a witty time for the viewer. In short, the Brigadier seems far less intelligent than his sergeant, which cheapens his character enormously. He's also lost the considerable air of authority that he once had, now seeming petulant rather than commanding when he orders Benton to search for Tyler for example. 

I've mentioned this briefly already, but the script is diabolical. It is almost inconceivable that a story a mere four episodes long and featuring three Doctors could feel padded, and yet this is the case here. In episode four, as the various humans captured by Omega return home, we get a very tedious few minutes as they step one by one into the column of smoke. They could have been transported by a wave of Omega's hand, or stepped into the column as a group, but instead we get unnecessary prevarication in order to pad out the episode. In episode one, the explanation of how there are suddenly two Doctors present is both laboured and strangely over-complicated. This is not a complex issue at its most basic level, and based on the model of time travel adopted by the series; if you could travel in time, you could meet your younger self. Explaining regeneration is perhaps more difficult, but the Brigadier seemed to cope with it well enough in 'Spearhead from Space'. Here, we get a very tiresome and drawn-out interchange as the Doctors try and explain things to Jo, and therefore the viewers. It feels extremely patronizing and contributes to the feeling that 'The Three Doctors' is padded. Episode Two is even more padded, achieving little except to offer a cliffhanger very similar to that of Episode One, but on a slightly larger scale. And speaking of cliffhangers, the fight scene at the end of Episode Three is one of the worst in the series to date. 

There are only two supporting characters of note; Ollis and Tyler. Ollis is utterly superfluous beyond the opening scenes of episode one, suggesting that Baker and Martin suddenly realized that they were stuck with him and decided to have him tag along with the Brigadier and the others. Tyler is present simply to ask scientific questions to the Doctors, which results in the Doctor explaining things to the audience through Tyler rather than Jo. The entire story is a self-indulgent mess and a poor excuse for a celebration.

There is a very interesting premise at the core of The Face of Evil, more interesting than a computer with a split personality that split up a colony ship into two separate tribes. The Doctor has often been portrayed as a flawed hero but we never really get to see evidence of this (later we would get some definitive evidence in Warriors of the Deep, Terror of the Vervoids…) so to hear him admit that on his last visit he tried to help and misjudged his tinkering (and his ego) is quite a shock. Much like The Ark it is fascinating to set the story long after the Doctor’s first visit and to explore the consequences. Whilst hardly apologetic the Doctor is clearly horrified to see the far-reaching results of his handiwork, you realise just how much of an impact, how much change he has caused when he doesn’t even recognise the planet or the people until the end of the second episode! I love this idea of the Doctor failing, its one of the reason I will take him over James Bond (actually my dream James Bond film would see him fail miserably and be forced to face the consequences just to subvert expectations) anyday because the Doctor can lose and lose spectacularly. A lot of people die in this story and none of it would have happened had the Doctor never visited. Or at least it would not have happened in this way. 

The Face of Evil is an often-ignored story from the treasured season fourteen although it is one that is having something of a renaissance in the twilight years of the series. It is a very clever story from fresh writer Chris Boucher that takes big ideas like God-worship and split personality and applies them thoughtfully to a tale that is low on heart thumping action but scores well with the intellectuals. Hinchcliffe is still taking risks three stories from his departure, most producers would keep it safe and just use writers they can rely on but Hinchcliffe is still drawing fresh talent to the show. A bold but successful step, the script is lively and bursting with hysterical dialogue and clever quips (but then with Robert Holmes lurking in the background this is practically a given). The story is beautifully structured, the first two episodes introduce the main concepts; the mystery of the Doctor’s influence on the planet, the scientific equipment scattered about a primitive colony. After exploring the Sevateem camp the story switches location for the last two episodes into the Tesh ship and introduces the heart of the problem in the memorable third cliffhanger. Because it is a more considerate story than usual it demands more time to deal with its climax, which unusually takes place halfway through the last episode with plenty of time to deal with explanations and the future of the colonists. It’s not a perfect story but you cannot fault the effort that has gone into the writing. 

How bizarre is it to see a companion less Doctor. I am glad they quickly introduced Leela because I don’t think I could have managed a whole story with the Doctor addressing the camera as he does at the beginning of this story (although it is rather fun imagining that you are the companion, that he is addressing you personally!). If the production team had been even braver they would have roughened Leela up even more, had her dirty and dishevelled, like she really lived in the wild. As it is the Dads need some incentive to tune in so Louise Jameson debuts in clean skins looking as thought she has just taken a bath. I can understand the decision to keep her squeaky clean but at least her behaviour and instincts are appropriately feral. 

There is immediate potential with Leela that isn’t apparent with so many companions and you can see instantly what the producer was trying to achieve. Much like Jaime and Victoria there is a lot of scope for having ignorant companions (and I don’t mean that in a derogatory fashion, Jaime and Victoria were companions from the past and Leela is a savage warrior) who require a lot of explanations for the scientific side of things. It allows the writer to feed information to the viewer without the companion looking stupid. But its more than that, I firmly believe the key to good comedy/drama is healthy culture clashing and to pair up an eccentric scientist with a homicidal savage then you have character gold. Maybe Leela wasn’t exploited to the full next year but there were enough wonderful moments where their ideals clash to validate this experimental companion. 

Indeed Louise Jameson’s compelling performance as the naпve savage is one of the highpoints of this story, you can see already the Eliza Doolittle/Proffesor Higgins relationship flowering just how Philip Hinchcliffe wanted. I adore the Doctor and Leela’s first scene together where he offers her a jelly baby and she recoils saying “Its true then! They say the Evil One eats babies!” And they stick close throughout the story, learning the facts of the story together and how Leela learns that her entire belief system is twisted and false is sensitively but firmly handled by the Doctor who refuses to molly-coddle her with the truth. By the end of the story Leela is talking about concepts she didn’t even understand at the beginning and even looking at her own people exactly the same way we saw her at the beginning, thus begins her education. 

Doctor Who and religion are sticky subjects, sometimes a story tackles the subject head on such as in the gripping The Massacre but more often they are background elements (look at the recent Halflife that has a fascinating religious background but is not the centre of the story at all). I was reading a brilliant piece of writing by Douglas Adams recently from his article anthology in The Salmon of Doubt about the existence of an Artificial God. One point he makes wonderfully well is that there are certain ideas you are not allowed to say anything bad about. ‘In the case of an idea’ he says ‘if we think, “Here’s an idea that is protected by holiness” what does it mean?’ It is very brave of him to make this move; to actively critisize religion by comparing it other much debated issues (politics) and reaching the conclusion that the validity of debating about religion is as important as any other. My point is The Face of Evil deals with a heavy religious theme and has the balls to be less than positive about it

It is almost a deconstruction of the God myth, Xoanon is simply a diseased computer with delusions of grandeur but the myth behind this ‘God’ is an extremely powerful and destructive force. It shows how propaganda can lead to a belief system of its own, through Neeva (tricked by Xoanon) the Sevateem are manipulated into fighting and killing on behalf of their ‘God’. And Leela who actively speaks out against Xoanon is threatened with execution and banished from the settlement! It exposes some of the dangers that come with intense religious beliefs and shows you how far people are willing to go in the name of their icon. Even more interestingly the story opens out into religious War, with the two fractured halves of Xoanon’s personality externalised in the Sevateem and the Tesh we see two homicidal factions that dismiss the others beliefs and wish to see their ‘false’ religion stamped out. All very interesting, I suppose the question is how far into exploring religion can a four part SF serial from the 70’s go? Much of what I have discussed here is background information and there to be picked up by those who choose but they will be others who should dismiss my claims and read something else into the story, or even that it has no comments at all to make and is only a rather witty adventure tale. I have no opinion on God one way or the other but I find it fascinating that the story throws religion in such an unforgiving light. I certainly find the religious angle far more interesting than the ‘brains vs brawn’ angle people usually apply to this story. 

What is bloody brilliant is the idea (and realisation) of a savage community with technological equipment scattered around their settlement. The way in which the Sevateem has compartmentalised these objects into their society is very creative. Neeva’s glove headgear is great fun and the close up on the survey ship alloy gong a phenomenal moment.

One huge fault with the story and one that the Hinchcliffe era is so keen to avoid usually is the design. It is a very drab looking story which starts with the sets; the bare and unconvincing jungle set, the sterile corridors of the survey ship, simple hut like dwellings, and reaches through to the costumes; savages in simple leathers (realistic but hardly eye catching), the Tesh in bizarrely camp make up and green quilted uniforms. Even the direction is lacking on occasions, occasionally there is a moment of genius (like the test of the Horda) but sometimes Pennant Roberts sticks to dull perpendicular angles for his fight sequences. It does not please the eye and I find myself bored and wanting some vibrancy (no trouble of that in the next too stories). 

Another massive problem is the third episode; this is another season fourteen story that suffers from the Curse of the third episodes. This instalment seems to comprise of some embarrassingly inefficient laser fights, both is the jungle and in the Tesh ship and a bunch of Manuel-inspired Tesh being civilised and camp with each other. It is not until the unsettling cliffhanger the things pick up where we are finally privy to some explanations. There is nothing wrong with the writing that the direction couldn’t have livened up.

One thing the story gets VERY right is the performances. The Sevateem are played with relish by a bunch of experienced actors and as such come across as a believable and rowdy group. Brendan Price’s Tomas is the token ‘nice guy’ but there is nothing stomach churning about his sensitive performance. David Garfield plays Neeva with the right amount of hypnotic naivetй; I love it when he interrogates the Doctor by waving scientific equipment in his face screaming religious propaganda. But best of the bunch (apart from Louise Jameson of course who flashes some leg and kills a handful at the same time!) is that slimey rattlesnake Calib, in Leslie Schofield’s enigmatic performance you can see a character who is watching every plot twist and seeing how they can twist it to their advantage. 

It is a story that takes the psychological and religious angle over straightforward action adventure but still manages to tell an entertaining story. It is far from flawless (its not exactly the first story you would show a non fan) but there is intelligence to the story that is hard to ignore. Personally I find it a little too dry in places, the direction freezing up too often but I would still bill it as a strong story in its own right and one that manages to push the boundaries far better than the acknowledged and overrated stories that make similar claims (Kinda). 

Just think, the entire universe could just be the manufactured handiwork of a computer with a mental breakdown! Makes you think, doesn’t it…?

It strikes me as odd that director Michael Briant should criticize the script for this story and praise the incidentals that he added to explain its overwhelming success. There are very few Robots-bashers and I am not one of them but there are some flaws in the story that should be addressed to give a more balanced view of the story and alas, poor Michael it is the direction that is most at fault. Don’t get me wrong most of his work is great and he achieves a level of terror and claustrophobia that makes you realise how much to learn some of those early base under siege stories had. 

The story is a terrific Agatha Christie homage and one that shares her love for concealing the villain behind clever dialogue and plotting. So it baffles me when Briant chooses to reveal that Dask is the villain very early on. What should be a harmless suggestion that the killer wears a certain pair of stripey trousers is blunted by the fact that Dask is the only person wearing those trousers! Okay, so this could be a clever cheat (could be, but isn’t) and the killer could have dressed up in his clothes as a disguise but then Dask appears on a screen programming a Robot to kill, there is some distortion to hide who this could be but not enough. It is obvious and unfortunate because my love of murder mysteries stems from the plotting which conceals the killer, I often go back and watch programmes like Jonathon Creek to see how cleverly the writer has concealed his twist villain whilst handing out enough clues to make it easy enough if you’ve been paying attention. Fortunately there is enough class in the story already and frightening incident to blind you to the fact that the climax where Dask is revealed in all his green and silver robot make up glory as the murderer is an insult and anyone shocked by this revelation should hang their head in shame. 

There are more moments of poor direction that admittedly don’t come close to sabotaging the production in any serious way but shock considering the effort that has gone into the rest. The Robot who eaves drops on the Doctor and Leela supposed to be D84 and yet he is entirely the wrong colour. Robots aren’t supposed to have necks beneath their face plates. And a cameraman is shockingly whack bang in the middle of a shot. Oh and the end of episode three is a mess, the Robot attacking the Doctor drawls his monotonous threats whilst Tom Baker calmly states “It’ll either be you or me!” like this is just a game of homicidal automatons. Oh and you can see Toos clearly breathing after the Robot strangles her to death (or this at least is what the script and direction are leading you to believe). These might seem like pathetic nick picks but there are some who will try and convince this is a perfect story and although it scores high on practically every level the direction slips enough to rough up its edges a bit. 

World building. Not easy to do in four twenty five minute episodes but the ever reliable Chris Boucher, continuing his run of luck after the imaginative Face of Evil, manages to paint a rather depressing picture of the future in his script. The power of money is frightening, causing rich sorts to spend months (even years) out in a barren desert with only a handful of humans to mine their wealth. Decadence drips from walls, Robot slaves are on hand to fetch and carry so these so-called miners can do as little work as possible that can actually be called work. There is talk of Kaldor City and the Founding Families, proving its not what you know but who you know as Unvanov points out to Zilda. The crew of the Sandminer are an opinionated bunch used to getting their own way and their very appearance, make up dripping from their faces and glittering clothes, and attitudes proves the luxury they are afforded is a corrupting element. They even have the Robots built in the humanoid image, smiling faces and stylish ‘hair cuts’, nobody wants to be reminded that these are in fact slaves. Just watch as the crew laze around and play games and how they suddenly become alert and professional the second a potentially wealthy storm hits the ship. It is rare to meet such an arrogant bunch, they point the finger at each other when there is a murder but are fully prepared to accept the Doctor and Leela are responsible simply because they are there. Tarren Capel might be one circuit short of a positronic brain but maybe he was the one who could see how damning the human race had become. You could almost see it as poetic judgement as the humans are slaughtered by grinning versions of themselves, instruments of their own self-indulgence. 

I have heard Hinchcliffe say time and again in interviews that he did not like SF clichйs or relying on monsters (especially when the budget so often failed to realise the writers ideas convincingly) and Robots of Death sees him ignoring both these rules. This was a man who was attuned with the series he was producing and knew how to break the rules but still make it work. Because for one story only we have a terrifying threat for the Doctor to face and one that sits comfortably in the series’ SF genre and still manage to be a man in a suit. I think it was my pal Rob Matthews who said it was more like watching a zombie movie (of which I am not the greatest fan)…then again perhaps it was Poul (“Not Robots! The walking dead!”), well wherever the source came was it is a potent statement because these walking, talking cadavers fulfil the zombie role perfectly. Just without the melodramatic (argh that word! Its catching Mike!) moaning and groaning. They kill. They are grotesque parodies of humans. They cannot be killed. They are relentless. And oh boy are they scary. 

I can remember when I first watched this on video and my Pops telling me the garbage men made killer robots out of the refuse they took away. What a bastard, I still get a pang of terror every time they pull up outside. Mind you he said the same thing about the Daleks so perhaps I should have noticed a pattern. 

When I think of September the 11th all I can think about is the crushing fear the passengers on board those planes must have felt. It was an awful tragedy and the pain of those needless deaths freezes my heart to this day but I cannot imagine anything scarier than knowing you are about to die. My heart goes out to every victim of that despicable act but it makes me sick to think of the terror those poor passengers must have experienced in that wait. 

The only reason I mention this is because Robots of Death shares a similar terror, characters who know they are going to die soon and the feeling of throat clenching horror is dizzying. When Chub is mouthing off to the Robot in the storage room he is blissfully unaware that his executioner has entered the room. The scene is almost funny until the event snaps into place and Chub relises the Robot is not being stupid by ignoring the weather balloon and approaching him with his hands ready to strangle but deadly serious. 

There are plenty of similar scenes that play on that one fear we cannot rid ourselves of, the fear of death. The scenes in Toos’ quarters are nail biting, this is a defenceless, snobby cow and a Robot is waiting outside her door to wring her neck. The loss of control is frightening; Toos rather pathetically tries to assert herself (“Attend to your duties!”) but is presented with a corpse marker so she slams the door and tries to convince the murderer of its implausibility (“It is forbidden for Robots to harm humans!”) and she suddenly realises, snapping her eyes shut, that she is not going to escape this one. The wait is unbearable so she opens the door to see if it has gone and her worst fears are confirmed when it is standing there, frozen, blood red eyes and advances into her personal space and grips her neck. This is adult stuff; Pamela Salem is almost too good at portraying Toos’ hysteria and with the Robot hand jammed in the door and the attack on her bed, it cannot fail to have some similarity with the idea of rape. It is tapping into a psychological horror that the show usually steers clear of because it is far more frightening than body horror. 

Poul is the most fascinating character in the story because he has so many layers. As the story continues his character is peeled away from smart arse miner, to private investigator, to robophobically unstable. You can almost feel the barriers of his mind coming down as he is confronted with the Robot hand dripping with blood, David Collins plays the anguish at just the right level to truly disturb. When Leela finds him cowering in a corner dribbling on about the walking dead he such a contrast to the confident examiner of the early episodes, Boucher knowing well enough that for the audience to be afraid his characters have to be too. 

Dropped into this story are the Doctor and Leela and at this point in their relationship the most interesting we would see of them. I had a chat with my mate Matt recently about how effective the story would be had Sarah Jane stayed on after Hand of Fear. He as very much in the different but still great wheras I think it is Leela that makes this story. In a story full of hunters (Poul is hunting Capel, the Robots are hunting everybody, Unvanov hunts the Doctor) she fits in perfectly, her senses are so attuned to her surroundings she makes an invaluable companion to have. It is interesting to note that her ‘feelings’ are spot on; Poul moves like a hunter, the Robots are creepy; the sabotage to the miner and it is the Doctor who seems naпve ignoring her warnings. I love her feistiness, she kicks at Unvanov, throws her knife in a Robots gut, rushes to save Toos, don’t listen to the rumours about the new series being revolutionary because of a capable, pro-active companion because Leela got there first (comment courtesy of Rob Matthews). The Eliza parallel has already begun and the Doctor’s conversation with her about body language is fascinating. Her dialogue (“If you’re bleeding look for a man with scars”) is terrific throughout. 

The Doctor is still in his moody years, very much the alien and Tom Baker plays the part so effectively. He can be funny (“Would you like a jelly baby?” “SHUT UP!” “A simple no thank you would have sufficed”), he can be intense (“We’ll all blow to pieces if you don’t cut the power!”), he can also be sarcastic (“Are you going to tell me your plan for running the universe?). What’s more he manages to convince you that the death of a Robot is a tragedy (his face when D84 is killed). Its one of his last totally straight performances and is one the best because he lets the script and the guest actors impress and simply provides some background gravitas. 

I could go on all day about the stylish art deco sets and costumes and the totally convincing model work for the Sandminer but that’s been done to death. Dudley Simpson’s intense, throbbing score is the icing on the cake of what is one of the best productions Doctor Who has to offer. 

There are so few Doctor Who stories that genuinely manage to make you afraid to sit in the dark alone and watch them. I am pleased to count Robots of Death amongst their number. Even my Ma thought this was creepy. What more can I say?

I was expecting to write a scathing review of 'The Invasion of Time'. I've only seen it twice before, but on each occasion I was less than impressed with it. On this occasion however, I found myself enjoying it and was surprised to find that it hangs together much better than its reputation would suggest. 

One of the most memorable aspects of 'The Invasion of Time' is of course the Doctor's seeming betrayal of Gallifrey to the Vardans. With no explanations forthcoming until Episode Three, the first two episodes leave open various possibilities; that the Doctor has gone mad, that he is being controlled, or of course that he has ulterior motives for this seeming treachery. The latter of course turns out to be the case, but Tom Baker's intense performance in the first two episodes must have had the audience wondering when the story was first broadcast. Erratic, arrogant, and ruthless, the Doctor heaps indignities on all around him (especially Borusa), orders that Leela be banished, and generally seizes the presidency of Gallifrey in as obnoxious a manner as is possible. Anyone who hadn't seen 'The Deadly Assassin' must have been even more startled by this development. With the Doctor acting so out of character, it is strangely relieving when he explains what is really going on to Borusa in Episode Three, even though I'm familiar with the plot. Once his true intentions for the Vardans are revealed, the Doctor settles down somewhat, but Baker maintains one of his most manic performances, possibly putting in a special effort because he's relieved that a season featuring two extremely bad Bob Baker and Dave Martin stories is nearly over. There are also moments where he displays the same kind of grim seriousness that characterised the Hinchcliffe era, such as when he picks up the De-Mat gun to a horrified gasp from Borusa and points out that they are utterly helpless against the Sontarans without it. What particularly interest me about 'The Invasion of Time' is just how manipulative the Doctor is. Although the Vardans state that if the Doctor fails "there will be others", I can't help wondering why the Doctor can't just go to Gallifrey, and warn them that a race named the Vardans are planning to invade; it is after all, the Doctor and K9 who are responsible for destroying the transduction barriers and opening a hole in the quantum force field. It suggests that the Doctor is not only trying to deal decisively with the Vardans, but also that he wants to shake the Time Lords up a bit. 

For her final story, Leela gets some very good lines and scenes. Her faith in the Doctor remains unshakeable, even when he orders her banished, and she manages to convince both Rodan and the Outsiders that he is up to something. Her usual skills at fighting are on show as ever, most notably when she throws a knife into a Sontaran's probic vent, but she also shows other attributes; once outside, she makes a point of looking after Rodan, and it is her leadership skills which allow her to convince the Outsiders to attack the Capitol. At one point she gets the line "Discussion is for the wise or the helpless and I am neither", which is not only superbly delivered by Jameson, but also suggests to me that Leela is actually a lot wiser than she gives herself credit for. Unfortunately, her leaving scene is notoriously contrived, due to Louise Jameson's late decision to depart, as Leela decides to stay with Andred, a man she barely knows. It is possible that some time passes between the Doctor's defeat of Stor and his actual departure during which time Leela gets to know Andred, and is also possible that this is how the Sevateem usually choose their partners, but it still feels awkward. On the other hand, the Doctor's wistful "I'll miss you too savage" as he closes the TARDIS door behind him goes some way to making up for this.

Also departing in this story is K9 Mark I, although due to a lack of any discernable difference between models, this makes very little impact. K9 however does get plenty to do, aiding and abetting the Doctor's scheme for the Vardans, being entrusted with Gallifrey's equivalent of the crown jewels and generally proving indispensable to the Doctor. The reason why I like K9 is summed up in the TARDIS scene in which K9 and the Doctor bicker outrageously, each calling the other smug; on the one hand it's rather silly to have a sarcastic back-talking robot dog, but on the other hand it is rather funny. 

The various Time Lords who appear here are generally well acted, especially John Arnatt's Borusa. His performance is not as memorable in my opinion as Angus Mackay's brilliant portrayal, but he still plays the part very well and manages to make it his own. Borusa's tendency to carefully analyze every situation with a view to ensuring Gallifrey's (and his own) future means that there is a slight edge to his relationship with the Doctor even after he knows what is really going on, and this results in him twice pulling a gun on the Doctor, most notably when the Doctor demands the Great Key of Rassilon. Milton Johns' loathsome Kelner is also a great character, displaying some truly unappealing character traits including cowardice and treacherousness (which contrasts nicely with the Doctor's pretence of betrayal - Kelner is happy to serve both Vardans and Sontarans for the sake of his own survival and power). Relatively minor characters like Lord Gomer and Nesbin also come over well, helping to make the story fill its six-episode length without feeling overly padded. On the other hand, I'm not particularly impressed with either Hilary Ryan as Rodan or Christopher Tranchell as Andred, both of whom occasionally veer alarmingly towards wooden acting. 

The main weaknesses in 'The Invasion of Time' are unfortunately the villains. Firstly, the Vardans are quite well written, and their ability to travel along broadcast wavelengths has enormous potential, which to the credit of Graham Williams and Anthony Read (a.k.a. David Agnew) is used rather well, this being the rationale behind the Doctor's highly erratic behaviour (they can read minds) and his seemingly throwaway demand in Episode One for a lead-lined office. Unfortunately, their realization on screen is rather less impressive. I don't actually mind their shimmering tin-foil appearance when they haven't fully materialized, but once they appear in the flesh they look utterly ridiculous, not because they are just normal humanoids, but because they wear phenomenally stupid uniforms, complete with helmets that resemble bedpans. This in itself wouldn't be so bad, but their acting throughout is awful, all of them sounding like dropouts from an amateur dramatics society, with horribly stilted diction and too much emphasis whenever they are supposed to sound angry or alarmed. 

In story terms, the revelation that the Vardans are not the real villains results in a cliffhanger to Episode Four which has rather impressive impact, especially for long term fans of the series. The Sontarans rank highly amongst my favourite Doctor Who monsters, and their revelation as Gallifrey's real attackers late in the day gives the story an effective boost. It also allows "David Agnew" to follow Robert Holmes' advice and structure the story as a four parter and a two parter, which as 'The Seeds of Doom' demonstrated can be an effective way to structure a six episode story. With the Vardans satisfactorily disposed off, the last two episodes of 'The Invasion of Time' thus concern the Sontaran invasion as the Doctor and his friends are faced with this more potent threat to Gallifrey. Unfortunately, however, at this point the story starts to fall apart somewhat. The Sontarans spend two episodes chasing around after the Doctor, so that they can secure the Great Key, which we are told will allow them access to all of space and time. After pursing the Doctor through his TARDIS for about half an episode however, they seem to give up and instead decide to just blow the planet up. Why exactly they give up so easily is unclear; a throwaway line about an approaching Rutan fleet might have made this plot development more plausible, but as it stands, Stor's sudden decision to destroy a large area of space seems included simply to provide a more exciting climax. In addition to this, the much vaunted De-Mat gun really isn't that impressive; nothing in the script suggests that is anything more than a glorified ray-gun, and the Doctor's line that he could rule the universe with it is utterly cringe-worthy. The Sontarans also suffer slightly from Derek Deadman's cockney accent, although this doesn't bother me quite as much as it does some fans and by Episode Six I'd pretty much got used to it. 

The production of 'The Invasion of Time' is reasonably good. The sets of the Capitol are nowhere nears as impressive as those from 'The Deadly Assassin', but they still look rather good and they also contain design aspects of those in that story, which suggests at widespread rebuilding after the havoc wreaked by the Master. The recycled Time Lord costumes still look good, making the costumes in this story look a lot more expensive than those in other stories from this season. There are also some impressive model shots of the Vardan ship in orbit around Gallifrey. The location work featured in 'The Invasion of Time' consists of that used for outer Gallifrey, which is adequate if unspectacular, and that used for the interiors of the Doctor's TARDIS, which is slightly controversial. Personally, I like the idea that the TARDIS can contain Victorian brickwork, and I also like the impression of scale created here, with reference to the TARDIS interior existing on multiple levels. On the other hand, the location work used to show those parts of the Capitol containing the machinery for the transduction barriers and the quantum force field clashes horribly with the studio sets of the rest of the Citadel. 'The Invasion of Time' also features some rather tatty-looking Sontaran costumes, and Stor's mask is a considerable disappointment after those worn by Kevin Lindsay in 'The Time Warrior' and 'The Sontaran Experiment'. Finally, I always find the fact that the Great Key of Rassilon just looks like any old key almost irrationally irritating. 

In summary, 'The Invasion of Time' has considerable flaws, but still just about manages to work. For a season with such fluctuating story quality as Season Fifteen, it is perhaps appropriate that the finale is itself something of a mixed bag. Graham William's first season perhaps suffers from having no discernable style of its own, featuring leftovers from his predecessor and two complete and utter turkeys. Having found his feet however, Williams would make leave far more of a distinctive mark on his next season…

There have been lots of derogatory things said about Creature from the Pit, so much that it has achieved a sort of fandom infamy for being the biggest pile of garbage and the worst excesses of low comedy and poor FX that the series could sink to. What people usually forget to mention is that it is also fabulous. 

I think Creature from the Pit got its reputation when the Williams era was in especially low repute and only celebrated gems like City of Death and The Pirate Planet were praised and nobody bothered to go back and actually watch the story and realise it wasn’t in fact the embarrassing production the JNT era led fandom to believe it was. My best mate Matt thinks it is the worst travesty Doctor Who ever threw up but I am glad he is one of a diminishing number, reviews when the story came out in its belated video release were positive and encouraging others to give it another chance. 

At the heart of the story is a fair few effective messages, dislike for the unlike is a powerful corruptor and a lust for wealth even more so. Through the despicable actions of the villainous Lady Adastra we can see how one person can affect the poverty of an entire planet. Chloris is a planet rich in Chlorophyll and rather than trade with alien species and introduce a further supply of metal (which is scarce) and lose her tyrannical advantage over the population she condemns them to a life of poverty. 

Even better is the way the story deals with the Tythonian Ambassador. It is almost like a fairytale the way we are led to believe the Creature (it has to be spelt with a Capital C considering how much stress is put on the word!) is a brutal beast, one that skulks about in a dark pit and gobbles up all the frightened scientists that are thrown into his lair. But rather unpredictably the Creature, an amorphous blob turns out to be a friendly sort who is accidentally murdering those men because he is trying to find some way to communicate. It is marvellous to see how Adastra twists the image of the Creature; with a little tweaking she has her planet in abject fear of being munched on by the blob from hell. Glorious scenes of the Doctor trying to communicate with the Creature (widely dismissed because it looks like he is sucking the thing off) prove David Fisher is trying to create something truly alien and different from the archetypal Doctor Who monster of the two arms, two legs and human vocabulary type. 

This is a further example of the brilliance of Douglas Adams’ inspired mentally unstable Doctor. This is Tom Baker at the height of his powers, relishing the glorious dialogue on offer. I have been rather critical of Tom’s season seventeen performances in the past (particularly in my own appraisal of the fourth Doctor) but re-watching these stories of late has opened my eyes to the possibilities of a manic, almost lunatic version of the Hinchcliffe fourth Doctor, one who relies on his wits and flies through the story improvising every move and most of all ENJOYING HIMSELF. What a refreshing change! Through this relaxed, charming protagonist it is a pleasure to experience the story, it is the complete inverse of the Davison era where you pick any story and it is a struggle to get through no matter how good it is because the regulars are always fighting amongst themselves (and thus the audience). Watching a season seventeen story is like going on holiday with your dream companion, someone who keeps things exciting, unpredictable and fun and that person is of course the Doctor. 

Examples of his fervent eccentric-ness beam from every scene. I would spend the entire review listing every moment if I were to mention my favourite bits but selected gems would have to be…

The hysterical banter in the first TARDIS scene. I love it when the Doctor claims, “If I hadn’t produced that they were going to unravel my scarf the wretches!” when Romana comes across a huge ball of twine with a thank you note from Thesius. 

Tom’s wonderfully frightened tone when he examines the eggshell outside the TARDIS and says “It’s alive” followed up by his marvellous observation that ‘stands to reason’ is a stupid expression because it much easier to reason lying down!

His sudden unexpected leap into the Pit! Who saw that coming? Which brings us to the much maligned but brilliantly funny scene where he is clinging to the side of the Pit and tries to read ‘Everest in Easy Stages’ to climb out but realises it is all in Tibetan. So out comes the ‘Teach Yourself Tibetan’ book! Oh come on guys lighten up! How on Earth did we get such comedy gems as this with unenthusiastic dullards like you around? It’s just a bit of fun! 

The Doctor communicating with the Ambassador, I don’t care what anybody says about the cock-shaped protuberance that Erato produces for the Doctor to blow into these scenes show the Doctor at his very best, gentle, intelligent and trying desperately to understand. I love how he doesn’t condemn the Creature for the accidental deaths it has caused and has the patience and understanding to realise it is an alien and as such does not conform to humanoid rules of conduct. 

Another strong criticism about the story is the production and this is one area I can demystify at once. The jungles sets are so realistic for at least half an episode Simon thought it was filmed on location. Its colourful, its verdant and misty, is treated to some wonderful wildlife sound FX and with some imaginative camerawork and lots of humidity and sweat on characters brows Chris Barry effortlessly transports you to this lush world. There is not much wrong with the ‘interior’ sets either, remembering this is an alien world the fairytale design of Adastra’s palace seems fitting (even if she does seem to share a taste in tacky chairs with Helen A) and cave sets are two a penny in the Doctor Who world, any story that gets those simple, featureless chasms wrong has got to be in trouble (Underworld). I love it when the Doctor is first trapped down the Pit, using a film camera, clever lighting use of a match and some glorious cave sets the atmosphere is wonderfully creepy. 

Perfection is an object I would rather Doctor Who not achieve, if everything about the show was flawless how would we know what was crap? There are faults in Creature from the Pit, some gapingly obvious but I am inclined to forgive them because the story comes under fire for all the wrong reasons. The embarrassing monster seems to be the object of everybodies distaste and yet there are some inspiring CSO shots of the Creature filling the cave giving a sense of awesome size. Yes it is clearly a man in a quilt but you didn’t let the snake stop your enjoyment of Kinda, the Skarasen of Terror of the Zygons, nor the animatronic cats in Survival. Doctor Who is not FX driven, the Williams era especially not and anyone who approaches the show from that angle (read non fans) is going to be sorely disappointed and missing out on the ideas and storytelling behind those FX which are magical. 

The bandits are pretty superfluous but they pad out the story nicely and provide some decent comic interludes. Okay so they’re a bit too cuddly to convince and seems to have come from the Oliver! school of acting (“My lovely boys!”…sorry couldn’t resist the urge!) but considering the handful of screamingly funny moments they provide (my biggest laugh in the story comes when their stupid leader Torvin takes offence to Romana…”Who are you calling hair suit?”, “You! Do you want to make something of it?”, “No I just want to know what it means!”). They are surplus to requirement in late episodes, just there to provide some token threat (which they fail to do). Still the whistle scene is still marvellous. 

I love how camp everybody is in the story. Adastra is the epitome of the femme fetale, she struts about the story reminding everybody that she is a woman of power and her dominance over men, caked in make up and with a viscous temper (she slaps Romana around the face for being cheeky). All she is missing is a cheesy sax score and a cigarette holder. Karella is just as bad, a lady of luxury who sucks up to the boss and then switches sides when the tides turn. Lets face it Myra Frances and Eileen Way are both excellent, decked out in vibrant clothes they relish their roles, annunciating every line for all the female empowerment its worth. 

Lalla Ward’s debut performance as Romana is an interesting one, she claims in interviews that the script and her efforts are both effectively drawing on Mary Tamm’s initial portrayal of the character but I disagree, whilst there is a fair peppering of Tamm’s aloofness, Ward plays her scenes with a twinkle in the eye, a hidden warmth that makes all the difference. Her sadness as K.9. is smothered by the wolf weeds is far more touching than anything Romana reacted to last year. I think Ward has a presence and a vulnerability that makes her stand out, when she backchats Adastra you have some prime bitch fighting in progress!

It astonishes me when genuinely well written and goofy as hell fun stories like this one get dismissed to the bottom end of the polls when there are far more insulting examples of depth sinking (either side of this season you have The Power of Kroll and Meglos both of which never come anywhere near as low as Creature from the Pit in fan polls). It was made at a time when Doctor Who storytelling and characterisation was at an all time high, yes it does flirt with the clichйs but then the reason ideas become clichйs is because they are used a lot and the reason they are used a lot is because they WORK. This is an effective tale; one of tyranny and manipulated identity and it deserves a little recognition for its sumptuous production at least. 

Get out the banners! Picket fences around the BBC! Creature from the Pit is fab! Sing that creed!