Tom Baker's final story has a really bright and creative idea in it. The planet of Logopolis itself is a really very exciting. The idea of a society that is completely based and has such faith in the power or math is quite good. A faith that is so strong they can actually use it to hold back entropy is such a powerful idea that it deserved to be at the front of this story instead of just the background.

Sadly enough there isn't much else in this four part story to get excited about. Baker's color and charisma were pulled way back for this story and it hurts. It may have worked as an idea to promote the dark and funeral like feel of the story but without the Doctor there are no pick up moments or bright points in the story and it just makes it dreadful to watch. The mysterious Watcher in the background doesn't add much depth to what is going on. Even the TVM regeneration was better than this.

The first wheel spinning episode is incredibly dull. The Master lands his TARDIS around a real police box and disguises it as a police box so the when the Doctor lands his police box he'll actually be landing both around and inside the Master's police box. Then the Doctor and Adric wonder from console room to console room. Soon Tegan manages to get herself into the TARDIS so she can start wondering from corridor to corridor. YAAAAAAAAAAWN! The story never really picks up from that point.

Adric is actually the only credible character in the story. Most of the tale is told from his point of view as he learns more from the Doctor, asks the right questions, and develops quite well.

Tegan has a miserable first start. Janet Fielding gives a way over the top performance that has no credibility to it at all. She was supposed to be a strong independent character but just comes off as being bitchy with personality swings you almost have to duck to avoid. There's nothing wrong, really, with playing a character at 100% but switching from one direction, doesn't believe a word the Doctor says, to another, desperately dependant on him, as fast as lightning is really lousy for character development. She decides that he is her only hope of survival and is counting on him to get her back to Earth so she snaps into action and completely ignores what he tells her to do.

The only character that comes of worse in this story is the Master. For the first two episode he turns it into a slaughter fest and all we get is the Master's hollow laughter in the background. To make evil characters work there has to at least be a reason for them doing what they do but there is none. A policeman uses a telephone from the box and the Master kills him. Aunt Vanesa opens the police box door and he kills her. As the story progresses he goes to Logopolis so he can start killing more people at a time. His evil scheme to finally destroy the Doctor is set in place by killing people at random? Even with that simple of a plan he fails miserably and gets in way over his head. The plan is as flat and as one dimensional as Ainley's performance. He never had the charisma or depth that an actor needed to make the character work and never improved much from his introduction. His message to the peoples of the universe that he tries to send out is so weak and laughable I can't imagine it being taken seriously by anybody who came across it. He's basically threatening people who've never heard of him or know the truth about entropy that if the universe doesn't immediately accept him as their ruler he will allow entropy to destroy everything. Nobody will be shaking in their boots when they get that signal.

After it's all said and done this story is a miserable waste of time. The worst of the regeneration stories.

Skip it.

For some reason in my memory I used to remember The Awakening as being part of Season Twenty, probably due to its rather subtle pace and emphasis on atmosphere and suggestion, very Season Twenty-ish traits, and against the grain of Season Twenty One’s generally more gung-ho approach (bar Planet of Fire) to the programme. In this sense The Awakening was a welcome meditative two-parter after the bull and bluster of the messy Warriors of the Deep; even the following story, Frontios, though including some typical Chris H Bidmead scriptorial sophistication, still seems at least visually very symptomatic of its season, the least intriguing of Davison’s three seasons, although it concluded in arguably the most dramatically powerful story ever, Caves of Androzani.

What I like about The Awakening – and in this it shares some similarities with its two formulaic predecessors, Black Orchid and The King’s Demons – is its good straight-forward story telling, unpretentious execution, intriguing atmosphere, convincing pseudo-historical realization (though of course most of its historical details are meant as a Civil War re-enactment in the modern day) and seeming deftness of ease at feeling more like a four-parter than a two-parter. Even though the storyline fits neatly into its 50 minutes, with all threads tied up nicely, the story contains a fair amount of plot detail: Civil War re-enactment conjuring up dormant historical forces, alien energies and inevitable time disturbances; the Malus’s place in historical Earth superstition; its craft, a probe from Harkol, leaving deposits of Tinclavik, a ‘squigy’, malleable metal from the planet Raga (cue the Terileptils from The Visitation pleasingly and subtly alluded continuity worked in from Season Nineteen). Even the characters are, for such a short excursion, believable and fairly engaging, especially George Hutchinson, played by the impeccable and always engaging Dennis Lill (who was to recognize the impressive, follically-challenged portrayer of Dr Fendahlman beneath that cascade of hair?). Will Tyler is a memorable character also, and I always remember wishing he’d joined the Tardis crew at the time, his Stig-of-the-Dump-esque incongruity beside the infinitely more intelligent Doctor providing a highly enjoyable and comical combination (not to mention bringing the flame-haired, angst-ridden Turlough in to the bargain).

The sets in this story are typically convincing and detailed for the series’ long tradition of historically accurate backdrops. The Church set in particular is extremely well done and exudes a sufficiently eerie atmosphere; the details on the wooden pulpit are particularly impressive, showing carvings of what we later come to see in corporal as the alien intelligence known as The Malus. The later scenes with the strange gargoyle entity clinging to the wall of the Tardis are brilliantly done and very memorable. My favourite scene of all is the one towards the end in which a ghost Cavalier and a trio of ghost Roundheads are conjured up by the Harkol probe to threaten the lives of the Doctor et al; subtly realized, real actors in costumes painted white, these apparitions, apparently somehow physically manifest from the past, are suitably tangible and eerie – their realization goes to show how this sort of thing should be done, and how it can be done far more convincingly than CGI effects, with the right atmosphere and direction.

Perhaps the only real qualm about the story is the unnecessary and convenient plot device of including Tegan Jovanka’s grandfather, Andrew Bernie; although the crew intend to visit him in Little Hodcombe, it is still slightly peculiar that an Australian should be living in a hamlet in the British home counties. Having said that, they couldn’t exactly have a relative of Turlough’s living there due to his alien origins.

Over all then, a highly enjoyable story, deftly scripted by Eric Pringle, strangely memorable considering its brevity, as were the other two Davison two-parters at the time – Hartnell’s The Rescue excluded, no other era of Doctor Who managed to achieve such satisfactory examples of this 50 minute story formula than the Davison era. His two parters never seemed rushed and yet always seemed filled with detail and variety of plot elements, and in this glowing example of the 50 minute Davison era speciality, there is even time at the end for a little banter in the Tardis over a cup of tea. Consummate Who.

When I was a relatively young and impressionable young chap, growing up long after my favourite television programme had been taken off the air, I was thrilled to bits when the BBC decided to repeat old ‘Doctor Who’ stories on BBC Two. Scouring through my already dog-eared copy of the 1991 ‘Doctor Who Yearbook’, I found out that the story to be transmitted next was ‘Revelation Of The Daleks’ and the Doctor in it was played by… ah, Colin Baker.

I was a bit apprehensive, and I was only seven years of age. The only other story with Colin Baker in which I had seen thus far was ‘The Twin Dilemma’ and it had left me feeling a tad cold- at the time, we were without Sky and (if I recall correctly) no other Colin Baker story was available to buy on VHS. And so it was on a cold evening that I sat down with my Parents and my Brother to watch ‘Doctor Who’. And it was great- really great. But what, even now, is the best thing about it for me is that, for the first time ever, ‘Doctor Who’ managed to scare me… but I’ll leave that until later on.

‘Revelation Of The Daleks’ is like a repeat of the success that was ‘The Caves Of Androzani’. They both have Graeme Harper as a Director; they both have Nicola Bryant reminding us all how good an actress she is, making Peri every bit as good as the character could be; they both have a great musical score by Roger Limb; and they are both a result of great directing meeting a great script.

Eric Saward is- not without reason- an author often criticised. Certainly with his previous Dalek story (‘Resurrection Of The Daleks’), there was simply too much going on that was irrelevant and the characters which were present varied between the forgettable and the wasted.

Here however, it all works. The supporting characters are all brilliant, and the several story strands are both necessary to the overall plot and damn enjoyable in their own right. Of all the writers to write for Season Twenty-Two and its forty-five minute episode-length format, it is Saward who writes best of all. What little padding there is remains undiscovered due to the humorous dialogue or inventive twists and turns in the plot. ‘Revelation Of The Daleks’ is engaging; it is witty and it is clever and it is scary… but I’ll return to that later.

Colin Baker excels as the Doctor here, showing all the naysayers exactly why it was that he was cast in the leading role. From the throwaway comedy moments such as trying to shake Davros’ hand after it has been blown off with a gun to the moments of genuine emotion like when he discovers quite what Davros has done with all the dead bodies, Baker’s acting abilities are thrown into the spotlight and he rises to the occasion in a most enjoyable fashion. What’s arguably most impressive of all about this is the fact that the Doctor and Peri are very much sidelined throughout the story, but this works very well as the supporting cast are all superb.

‘Revelation Of The Daleks’ is a story littered with double acts, from the lofty Kara and Vogel to the pseudo-historical pairing of Orcini and Bostock, the latter of which is given a great line where he observes that the aforementioned Kara and Vogel are “like a double act”! All such characters are both well written and well-acted, though specific mention must go to Clive Swift as the egotistical, pompous oaf Jobel who manages to make the character particularly memorable, despite the large host of memorable characters; his death scene too is simply wonderful.

As Tasambeker, Jenny Tomasin delivers what is arguably the weakest performance of the whole cast, though even that is gold-dust compare to other supporting actors who have appeared in ‘Doctor Who’ over the years.

Another knowing nod should go towards Alec Linstead as the remains of Arthur Stengos who manages to make a potentially sinister sequence very, very hard to watch due to the sheer power of his acting. When he begs- please note, that he BEGS- his own Daughter to kill him, it’s almost too much to bear. That’s not the moment which scared me though, and I mean really shook me up… but I’ll return to that later.

The Daleks themselves play second fiddle to Davros, but again this really works well for the script. Davros is for once given a lot more to do than simply rant and rave, and Terry Molloy is able to shed the long-term viewer of the opinion that Michael Wisher is the definitive Davros. Molloy’s vocal skills as an actor for the Radio really shine out here, and nearly every line he delivers is a gem in its own right.

The Dalek voices in ‘Revelation Of The Daleks’ are a bone of content for many viewers, sounding- as they do- very human. Certainly, this effect works very nicely with the Ivory coloured Daleks as they are meant to be made from human remains; however, this inferred opinion is somewhat marred by the fact that the Grey Daleks use the same type of voices, and so the Daleks in this story simply appear to be poorly modulated rather than different from each other, which is a shame. Still, hearing traces of Roy Skelton’s real voice is not as big a detriment as it could be, since he delivers the Dalek dialogue so well.

Graeme Harper’s Directing is simply brilliant; the camera moves around with ease in the cramped studio, giving everything a sense of grand scale despite the budget restraint and the cramped studio space. Little touches such as using Soft Focus in the DJ’s room to enhance the spaced-out atmosphere just add to the stunning visuals, which Harper is at pains to put on screen.

Overall, ‘Revelation Of The Daleks’ is not only the highlight of Season Twenty-Two, but also that of Colin Baker’s tenure as the Doctor. The characters all gel together, and the Directing is above and beyond the call of brilliance. The story is well-lit throughout too, adding a real moody ambience to the proceedings, which- coupled with Roger Limb’s music- help make this story as good as it is: not even a poorly realised flying Dalek and a bizarrely humorous Polystyrene statue of Colin Baker can ruin it for me. I shall wrap this review up now, but before that…

The moment that scared me: it happens when the DJ, played with suitable eccentricity by Alexei Sayle, is exterminated. Now, the Daleks are evil and nasty, I know that and knew that, but this was the first time that I actually took it on board properly. The DJ wasn’t a bad man, nor was he self-centred or nasty to Peri. He wanted to help her, and it costs him his life. Oh, and when he dies he screams. Loudly. Painfully. It hurts when you die; it was horrible to watch too. I was seven years old, and I was petrified.

Like its season twenty-four stable mates, ‘Delta and the Bannermen’ divides fan opinion straight down the middle. There are those who believe this story to display the worst excess’s of the McCoy era; garish visuals, badly cast guest stars and with a silly pantomime like theme running through. In many respects, these people are right. ‘Delta and the Bannermen’ has these qualities in copious amounts. However, I am of the opinion that watched on its own terms this serial is a lot of fun.

Malcolm Kohl has scripted the most wonderfully silly story here. The basic outline of the plot is thus; Delta, the last of the Chimerons, is fleeing persecution from the evil Bannermen, led by Gavrok. She manages to escape their clutches and tags along with a bunch of Navarino holiday makers, whose destination is 1959 Disneyland. Following a collision between the Navarino bus and an American satellite, the Navarion’s crash land not in Disneyland, but at the Shangi-La holiday camp in South Wales. Needless to say, the Bannermen aren’t far behind…

The cast for this story are a mixed bunch. Most famously Ken Dodd shows up as the toll master, complete with garish costume and, erm, ‘party hooter’? Actually, given the tone of the piece, Dodd isn’t as bad as you’d imagine. Besides, he’s barely in the thing. Don Henderson as Gavrok is wonderful. He plays the part totally straight and is a very menacing threat that the Doctor must defeat. Belinda Mayne, playing Delta and David Kinder playing Billy are the weak links here. This is a real problem for this serial, as the love story between Billy and Delta is one of the most important elements running throughout. As a consequence of their lack of chemistry and wooden acting I never really bought this element of the plot. Now, mention must go to Sara Griffiths, who plays Ray. Originally scripted as a possible replacement for Mel, Ray gets a lot to do in this story and fills in as a companion for the Doctor whilst Mel is busy doing whatever it is she does. Griffiths, despite some shaky moments, does well. She also has the benefit of being incredibly cute, which is never a bad thing in my book! Those who watch QVC in the UK will be familiar with Griffiths, and they can also attest that she still looks as good today as back in ’87.

Sylvester McCoy is still finding his feet here. For the most part he makes little impression. A few lines scattered throughout make up for this however, and at least he’s better here than in ‘Time and the Rani’. Bonnie Langford really isn’t too bad here. She seems to be playing Mel in a less hyperactive fashion, and although the role of traditional companion is taken by Ray here through a lot of this serial, when she is on-screen she doesn’t sink to the depths she did in, say ‘Paradise Towers’.

‘Delta and the Bannermen’ is a real mixed bag. The basic plot and story idea is quite entertaining, and as someone else has mentioned could have been penned by Douglas Adams. I enjoyed the opening action scenes on the Chimerons’ home planet, and the way the Doctor defeats the Bannermen through the use of honey is silly, but is in keeping with the rest of the script.

Unfortunately, bland direction from Chris Clough and some more awful incidental music from our mate Keff McCulloch stops this one from being thought of more highly by fans.

I can’t help but love ‘Delta and the Bannermen’. It’s a far from flawless production, and indeed in places is laughably bad, but the overall atmosphere of the piece is so joyous, I always end up getting swept with it. This isn’t the turkey some would have you believe. Oh, and did I mention Ray is pretty hot?

As Sylvester McCoy’s first season closes, we are presented with ‘Dragonfire’; this is the story which uses clichйs quite freely, which gives stereotypical characters stereotypical lines and which has a serious lack of budget, which is a pity.

Ah yes, if there was ever a story that was crying out for more money, ‘Dragonfire’ is it: imagine if Iceworld really did look icy, or if the sets looked less studio bound and more realistic. Whilst ‘Doctor Who’ was never the most aesthetically pleasing show, at times its visual flair was imaginative and memorable, but here the studios look like studios, and no amount of comedy slipping from Sylvester McCoy can disguise the fact that the snow is polystyrene.

That’s not to say that all the designs look terrible, far from it. The dragon costume, whilst still obviously a costume, looks fairly impressive, as does the interior of the Nosferatu, though both these examples are in relation to the story they are within.

Thus far, this review has been rather negative, but that is simply because I wanted to get the bad things out of the way first: now, onto the plus points….

The dialogue here sparkles. “Ah, an existentialist!” responds the Doctor after learning that Belazs wants to shoot Glitz. In three short episodes, we are given more quotable dialogue than the rest of Season Twenty-Four put together; from the Doctor’s philosophical ramblings to a guard, to the vast majority of what Glitz says, this is a story unafraid of using dialogue for decoration, though never gratuitously. The final scene between Mel and the Doctor is, in particular, a great example of how the dialogue throughout ‘Dragonfire’ shines.

A clever little trick Ian Briggs has used, as mentioned above briefly, is to not be ashamed of using staple clichйs of different genres associated with ‘Doctor Who’. For the fantasy element, we have an ancient map and a Dragon; for the Sci-fi element, we’ve got a baddie who freezes people by touch; for the horror element, we have hoards of human zombies; Mel fulfils the role of stereotypical ‘Who’ companion, screaming her way through the cliffhanger to part one and then tripping over and knocking herself out for no real reason later on; and then, of course, we have the famous dangling-off-a-cliff cliffhanger, just to do the ultimate clichй.

The characters are also well aware of their grounding in stereotypes- witness how Glitz, when dead set on revenge, stares into the camera, gnashes his teeth and simply says: “Kane”- we’re given more characterisation in that one moment alone, however cheesy, than many stories give throughout their running time. Also, Ace- the immature teenager with an attitude problem- is given dialogue that makes her look like an immature teenager with an attitude problem. She irritates the viewer, just as she irritates the supporting characters. She’s given clichйd lines to say, which work well in their context and are delivered perfectly by Sophie Aldred.

Speaking of Sophie Aldred, she instantly makes an impression as good companion material; the contrasts between her and Mel are striking, and so she arouses the interest of the viewer, and you are genuinely left wondering how the relationship between the doctor and Ace is going to develop- and, of course, develop it did. From the very next story, ‘Remembrance Of The Daleks’, you are aware that something very different is going on, and thankfully so as it would have otherwise been a waste of such a very different character.

Not everything in ‘Dragonfire’ works: Ace’s repeated cries of her name are irritating as best, down right annoying at worst. As mentioned before, ‘Dragonfire’ could really have done with some extra money, as bits of it look very cheap indeed.

However, there is much to recommend in ‘Dragonfire’; the cast all appear to be having fun, and Edward Peel turns in a terrific performance as Kane. Once more, Tony Selby as Glitz is great and highly watchable, and his interaction with all the various characters works well. Added to all this, Dominic Glynn’s incidental music is quite nice, and it compliments the look of the story very well. One particularly nice moment is when the synthesised thuds of the keyboard match the footsteps of one of Glitz’s ex-crewmembers as he stumbles down the metal stairs whilst searching for Ace and Mel.

‘Dragonfire’ is not the perfect story, but then again most ‘Doctor Who’ stories are not. It stands hand and tails above the other stories in Season Twenty-Four in my opinion, and boasts some terrific dialogue and set pieces to boot. It’s not the best of the best, but it rather proudly stands above average.

Battlefield has suffered since it first went out, being viewed as the weak link in a generally strong period for the show and even as a nadir of 80s Doctor Who. Ben Aaronovitch has it doubly hard as far as I'm concerned as I happen to think his other episode, Remembrance Of The Daleks, to be the most horribly overrated in the series's history. On the other hand, I have very fond memories of seeing this episode when I was a kid, and I used to rave about it years ago. Consequently, I can never make up my mind about Battlefield.

It certainly gets off to a poor start, with the same continuity-tsunami that characterises much of Remembrance owing to the requirement once again to dig up the Brigadier. It suffers as well considering its status as a McCoy season opener: it's hardly the Star Wars homage of Remembrance (the best bit about the episode), and as for Time And The Rani...tacky it may be, but a regeneration is a regeneration. Aside from the very first scene though, the first episode shows a lot of promise, with an unusually multi-cultural feel that almost borders on political correctness (shock horror!). There is an enormous drag factor evident though in Keff McCulloch's appalling score, as Arthurian warriors slug it out to the sound of a Milli Vanilli backing track.

Given my general dislike of excess continuity it is still nice to see UNIT back again and the namedrops come thick and fast, with the Doctor mentioning five monsters in as many seconds Normally I'd hate this, but I'm in a kind mood. This is punctuated by the occasional piece of nice pyrotechnics, of which it seems there can never be too much in this story. Bear in mind though that this story is set in the future (i.e. now, from their point of view) and this leads to some odd jokes, like three drinks costing five pounds (innocent times) and the Brigadier dismissing a telephone call by saying "I don't care if it's the King!", the "ha ha, Queen Elizabeth has popped her clogs" subtext of which blowing my earlier remark about political correctness to pieces.

What the story is notable for, and this episode in particular, is the monumentally rubbish fight scenes: it's as if the stunt men decided to save on effects by attacking each other in slow motion. If you look at the episode though it is actually deceptively expensive but - in true John Nathan-Turner style - the money has gone on all the wrong things. For example, they hired a helicopter when stock footage would have done; I know we'd all be moaning about it but we might have got a better battle, so it would be the lesser of two evils.

Meanwhile, while the battle rages, the heroes have gone for a swift half in the local pub, where they find a scabbard that can mysteriously heat up and cool down (rubbish for swords, great for making hot milk). This is the first example of a very shaky plot: why have the soldiers come to Earth, why do they want Excalibur? The episode hinges on these questions, but never is any attempt made to address them. Even so, I quite like the pub scenes as there's some great dialogue; even if Ling Tai is not the greatest actress in the world, at least she looks like she's enjoying herself. Ace is annoying, but it is good for the season as it paves the way for her personal growth in Ghost Light and The Curse Of Fenric. Curse was originally intended to come before this, but Ace would never have worked if the episodes were that way round.

It is in part two where things start to fall apart, with the introduction of Mordred, woefully played by Christopher Bowen. He is from the Ronnie Kray school of Mummy's boy villains, and his remark in part four of "my mother will destroy you!" is possibly the lamest threat I've ever heard. I bet he was the school bully just because his mum was a mighty sorceress. The summoning of Morgaine is painful, with Mordred spouting ridiculously portentous sub-Tolkien dialogue, intercut with Sylvester McCoy overacting like a lunatic (not for the last time this story). Worst of all is when Bowen starts screaming "ha ha ha ha ha haaaaa!" at the top of his lungs: I'd call it laughter but there's clearly no humour. Perhaps he has a chest infection.

After this it settles down a bit more, showing that Aaronovitch is clearly better at the human elements of his scripting. The scene with the Brigadier and Morgaine just about stays on this side of self-parody, and the underwater spacecraft is impressive, if a little gaudy. The action scene with the glowing snake thing is a nice idea but badly executed, like all of the serial's action scenes, and the snake thing (no other possible description) is never adequately explained. Also, on your left you will see the infamous scene where the water-filled tank cracked, and McCoy got to be a real hero by running away and shouting for other people to do something. Unable to do the scene twice they were forced to salvage what footage they could, with the result being that the cracked glass is clearly visible. This does give the ship an air of shoddiness, but hey, it is supposed to be thousands of years old.

Episode three continues in the same vein, with dire battles intercut with better moments and the dialogue veering uncontrollably between the good and the downright ludicrous: The soldier's call of "the seabirds are still operational", when taken out of context, is a strong contender for the title of Most Surreal Moment. The killing of Lavell though is a wonderful scene, and Morgaine's subsequent gift of vision to the landlady shows her to be a more complex character than she is allowed to be.

Episode three also contains the scene where all extraneous characters get evacuated. It's a cop-out, yes, but there've been worse in better episodes so I'll let it go, and the scene with the chalk circle is excellent (if shakily acted). The episode also sees a return to some issues left hanging in part one, such as the missile convoy and the continuity references: the Daleks are namechecked, and Bessie is seen for the first time since The Five Doctors. It is a testament to the innocence the programme still had even in its last season that anyone seriously thought the flaming tracks gag would ever work. This kind of thing highlights exactly how little actually happened in episode two.

Moving on to episode four we get the Destroyer: never has such a good idea been wasted so badly. No sooner has Morgaine removed his bonds than the Brigadier has pumped him full of lead (well, silver) and that's the end of him. It. That. Whatever. Oh well, perhaps we'll see more of him in the prequel that Aaronovitch is blatantly setting up. This is in truth a very rushed episode, with the vortex between the pub and the villain's lair being another example of very dodgy deus ex machina plotting. The "is that a spaceship" line got a laugh in spite of myself, but basically the denouement is very cheesy: both the aforementioned death of the Destroyer and also the stop-the-countdown confrontation with Morgaine, with more bad dialogue and overacting. Am I the only one who considers "lock them up" to be slightly inadequate, given their powers?

After this we go back to the Brigadier's house for the final scene, which is pleasant enough - in a sense, the jumps between good and bad make for an appropriate ending for a very uneven story. However, it is still - and yes, I'm in the minority here - the best of Aaronovitch's two scripts for the series.