'Snakedance' is in many ways highly similar to 'Kinda'. For one thing, it is a sequel to that story, also written by 'Kinda' scribe Christopher Bailey, and featuring the return of the Mara. Like 'Kinda', it suffers from cheap and stagy looking sets and horrible costumes, but is also well directed. And like 'Kinda', it has a superb script, great characterisation, and a superb acting. 

To address those minor negative quibbles first and get them out of the way, I actually much prefer the sets here to those in 'Kinda', with only the rocky exteriors and the cave bothering me. The rocky exteriors look better than they might have done due to the fact that they are recorded on film, but they are still obviously fake sets with a painted backdrop and some sand scattered about; in short, they always look as though they are indoors. The cave looks OK, but suffers from the same problem as those in 'Earthshock', in that it looks very little like a real cave at all. On the other hand, it has been sculpted in the past, so I suppose its shiny walls and unnatural rock shapes could be explained thus. But it still looks a bit silly when the veins in walls light up at the end. Ken Trew's costumes represent my only other criticism of 'Snakedance'; most of them look a bit silly, but are passable, for example those worn by Dugdale and Chela, but Ambril's pink and black costume is hideous and the ludicrous costume that Lon dons in Episode Four has to be seen to be believed. I should perhaps also point out that the curse of the Mara once more means the curse of the rubber snake, whether it be the one wrapped around Tegan's arm, the one that bites Dojjen and the Doctor during the snakedance, or the big Mara prop at the end. However, the snake effects used here have moved up a step since 'Kinda' and bonus points are awarded for the use of real snakes. 

So having got my rather shallow criticisms of 'Snakedance' out of the way, I'll start by praising the regulars. Janet Fielding again proves she can act, as the Mara once more possesses Tegan. She proves especially good when Tegan wakes up terrified from a nightmare, or wanders around in fearful confusion under the influence of the Doctor's dream inhibiting device. She's even better however when Tegan is fully under the Mara's control and she gets to play the villain; her tormenting of the fortuneteller at the end of Episode One, her callous treatment of Dugdale, even her power crazed ranting, all of these aspects are portrayed very well, and this is emphasized by the first two cliffhangers, superbly directed by Fiona Cumming. The real test of Fielding's acting skills is that she manages to seem menacing even with a rubber snake coiled around her arm, which is pretty impressive when all said and done. Actually, the Mara is realized very well throughout 'Snakedance' and is more prominent from the start than it was in 'Kinda', since the Doctor realises what his enemy is very early on. Cumming's use of snake skulls and distorting mirrors are both examples of how she achieves surrealism on a limited budget and shows Tegan alternately fighting or giving in to the Mara in her mind. Cumming's direction is impressive here, but Fielding is crucial to the success of these scenes. 

Sarah Sutton's Nyssa gets very little to do here, basically following the Doctor or Tegan around to allow plot exposition, but Davison is very well used as the Doctor. His frantic rushing around in an attempt to stop the Mara's rebirth is well ahdnled, and it's interesting to see how he looks to the supporting characters, with everyone except Chela assuming that he is a harmless crank. Ambril's reaction to him is very realistic, as he tries to convince everyone that on this occasion a celebration that has been performed once a decade for five centuries will on this occasion have dire consequences. His scenes with Dojjen in Episode Four are particularly good as the Doctor exhibits first fear and then finally understanding as Dojjen teaches him how to defeat the Mara. 

The supporting cast is excellent. Over the past ten years I've often seen clips from 'Snakedance' being used to embarrass both Martin Clunes and Jonathon Morris, but neither have cause for embarrassment (except perhaps for Clunes' costumes). Clunes is superb as the arrogant and bored Lon, whose transformation from obnoxious to manipulative and ruthless demonstrates that Lon is not a particularly nice person to begin with but is far worse under the Mara's control. Incredible, the famously big-eared Clunes, a man famous for portraying loutish behaviour in Men Behaving Badly, manages to appear both imperious and even dashing at times. Morris is also great as the erstwhile Chela, the one person other than Dojjen prepared to listen to the Doctor's warnings about the Mara, and his character is very likeable. Every character is well written, including Lon's snooty but well-meaning mother Tanha (Colette O'Neill), and the money grubbing but also likeable Dugdale (Brian Miller, husband of Elizabeth Sladen) whose fascination with what he thinks of as Tegan's skills at ventriloquism and the financial benefits this might bring him leads him into terror and slavery. Preston Lockwood's Dojjen is played with quiet dignity and although he barely speaks he brings a tremendous air of wisdom to the role. Perhaps most notable is John Carson's Ambril, a great character whose obsession with his work causes him to betray his sacred trust and hand over the great crystal to Lon. Ambril's motivation is always understandable, his greed for knowledge and artifacts nicely contrasting with Dugdale's greed for money and equally demonstrating how the Mara is capable of praying on people's weaknesses. Carson superbly portrays Ambril's barely suppressed excitement at the artifacts Lon shows him, as he handles them with trembling hands, and his defeated submission to the Mara's will as Lon smashes them is very well acted. In addition, Ambril's enraged reaction to the Doctor's solving of the riddle of the Six Faces of Delusion is almost worth watching the story for by itself. 

Bailey's plot is deceptively simple, carried along by the characterisation and more subtext picked up on from 'Kinda'. Buddhism apparently plays its part once more, in the origins of the Mara and the means by which the Doctor defeats it. Also as in 'Kinda' there are subtle criticisms of colonialism (or rather imperialism) as Tanha patronizes the natives and laughs at their quaint customs, whilst nevertheless fascinated by them. 'Snakedance' is perhaps less memorable than 'Kinda', affected to an extent by the law of diminishing returns, but it is a worthy sequel and after the disappointing 'Arc of Infinity' it bodes well for the remainder of Season Twenty.

There is a temptation that when an award is subject to a public vote, to proclaim the result a reflection of popular opinion. This is of course not entirely true; as the old saying goes there are lies, damn lies and statistics. What the so-called public vote represents is the opinions of the people who chose to take part, and is therefore subject to the agendas and prejudices of the sample pool. And that's before you even get into the sticky problem of all the "don't knows/don't cares/go aways" that such samples are subject to.

So when the DWAS and DWM used to have seasonal polls to find the most popular story of a season, the poll might have been on a much smaller scale but the same principle applies. Now, for better or worse, Doctor Who fans are remarkably conservative in their tastes, we always (and I mean ALWAYS) err on the side of caution. So back in the heady days of early 1988, what should find itself coming out top?

Dragonfire.

Apparently Dragonfire achieves the rare distinction among its season 24 brethren of being the most like 'traditional' Doctor Who. I'll quote Tim Munro from his review in DWB No. 51, dated January 1988 (which the Howe/Stammers/Walker triumvirate loved too; they used it in the Television Companion): "It was the only story which came anywhere near to recapturing the unique atmosphere of 'real' Doctor Who." Ok, so he says "real" rather than "traditional," but it's still a great quotation. Especially good is the way our man Tim hijacks the expression "real Doctor Who" and uses it to mean whatever he wants it to mean. It would be facetious of me to say "real Doctor Who, as opposed the imaginary kind that you've been watching for the last eleven weeks," but playing on such a nebulous concept as "real," or my preferred "traditional" smacks of sloppy, tabloid journalism. What he really means is "the Doctor Who I used to watch when I was young and the Yeti were ten feet tall and it was SOOOO scary and everybody at school didn't laugh at me for being such a saddo."

Anyway, since when did being "traditional" warrant celebration? Dragonfire is traditional in the sense that it has the "it's the last serial of the season and oh my God we've run out of money what are we going to do?" look of cheapness about it. Overall, season 24 looks a lot more expensive than season 23 did (space station excepted), but of the four serials from this year, Dragonfire suffers the most from poor design. It is something of a clichй to wheel out the old "BBC are great at costume drama" chestnut but if Cartmel learnt anything from this season, it was that the designers of the day liked to keep things real. A decaying tower block has a real world connection, as does the 1950s, but obviously ice caves and spaceships are still a bridge too far for BBC design teams circa 1987.

You would think that if your sets are shoddy that you'd want to hide the damn things as much as possible, ergo, turn the lights off. A little bit of suspense can go a long way, just ask Chris Carter; Mulder and Scully spent most of season two of The X-Files pottering about in the dark; you begin to wonder if the pair of them are nocturnal. As a consequence every single ice cave scene in Dragonfire has no sense of space whatsoever. People wander around what is supposed to be underground, cramped, unlit, naturally formed, poorly ventilated and freezing cold ice caves as if they've walked into the post office. Sylv is the only member of the cast to remember this, but as he is the ONLY one his slipping comes across as a piece of misjudged slapstick.

So much of Dragonfire comes across as misjudged. The newfound confidence that was on show in Delta has been retarded and the series is back on the uneven ground it occupied during Paradise Towers. Nowhere is this more apparent than THAT cliffhanger. I can't decide whether Chris Clough betrays a lack of faith in the material or simply cannot give a toss. If the latter is true then the man should never have been allowed to work on the show again, but - having read the revealing interview with Eric Saward in DWM recently - on set in 1987 there were probably a hundred good reasons for it at the time. It's just a shame that none are readily apparent.

A slew of good ideas are undermined by this slapdash approach, the Alien-influenced biomechanoid dragon just one. I always appreciate Doctor Who's efforts to punch above its weight and so tend to be more forgiving when high concept ideas fall a little flat. Yes, the dragon is a man in a rubber suit, but Graeme Harper had just such an unwieldy creature in Androzani and got away with it. Just.

It may seem like I've belatedly joined the queue of season 24 bashers after giving the three preceding serials a relatively easy ride but that's not the case. Taken in a wider perspective the last serial of season 24 is much better than the first and although I personally prefer Delta, Dragonfire still feels like part of an uphill trend. Plus points are Sylvester's increasing melancholy, particularly in Mel's leaving scene - Mel's leaving of course being a big plus in its own right, if I feel so inclined to return to my previous facetiousness - is a helpful reminder that yes, this is the same character who will declare war on the evils of the universe for the next two seasons.

Ace, despite some clunky dialogue, proves to be a good addition to the programme. She is conceivably the first pro-active companion since the second Romana and her ability to carry her own sub-plots is a blessing that will only become apparent in the future. Paired with Mel for a lot of the action gives you the chance to directly compare the two; of Mel, Ray and Ace I still think the production team made the right decision.

Tony Selby remains tremendously watchable. He never hits the heights of the Holmes inspired wit that he's given in part thirteen of Trial, but he's playing the part with just the right amount of tongue-in-cheek bravado that the furry dice in the cockpit of the Nesferatu seem perfectly in character. I can also justify his inclusion in the narrative in the wider scope of the programme at the time. With time becoming a premium in the three parters, it becomes essential to get through the establishing scenes with expediency. One of the ways of doing this was to have the characters already know eachother and the vast majority of the three parters follow this pattern. Witness it is Ace's friends who are abducted in Survival, Lady Peinforte has met the Doctor before; more so in the three parters than the fours, the history of the two leads is a driving force behind the narrative as much as the plots of the respective antagonists.

It's easy to say that this is very much a transitional story between the froth of Delta and the introspection of Remembrance but that is lazy and quite frankly bollocks. Dragonfire is the last time we see the Doctor crashing round the universe, finding injustice and then fighting the good fight. From here on, the Doctor has a plan. He goes on the offensive. Doctor Who is never quite the same again.

This is the classic 7-part adventure that would solidify Doctor Who's popularity for years to come. For it is in this adventure where the Doctor has his very first encounter with his deadliest adversaries... the Daleks. Of course, you who are reading this probably already know that.

Being this is the second adventure for the TARDIS crew, a great many things come about as a result.

Before I talk about the actors involved or the story itself, I'd like to talk about set designs and the costumes. The sets of the jungle itself are extraordinary, as are the sets for the Dalek City and the caverns. I was definitely impressed, considering much of this was studio enclosed, and it was way before the use of CSO or blue/green screen technology that would become quite infamous in the later years. 

The design concept for the Daleks' robotic casing at first glance would appear to be quite laughable and ludicrous, considering that they simply look like giant trash dispensers or pepperpots with plungers. However, the the robotic casing itself is truly unique and distinctly alien. Once the initial silliness fades, you realize how effectively terrifying those pepperpots are, especially when you think about what lies within.

The clothing worn by the Thals is also quite effective in symbolizing their peaceful nature as an agricultural society. Although I must admit the outfits worn by the males did make them look like the 'Kevin Sorbo Appreciation Society'. 

The story, exceptionally well-crafted by Terry Nation, is definitely thrilling, thought-provoking, intensely dramatic as well as exciting. Considering how this sotry was crafted in the early 60's, the idea of the effects of a nuclear war (even on an alien world) was something quite topical during this time. 

The TARDIS crew continue to shine as the varying viewpoints and character dynamics continue to clash, but their willingness to cooperate in times of peril asserts itself rather well. Especially in combining their intellects to exploit the Daleks initial weakness of gaining static electricity through the metallic flooring in order to orchestrate their escape. 

The Doctor continues to demonstrate his ambiguous nature as he still does not fully like the fact that Ian and Barbara are still stowaways about his vessel. It's fascinating to observe the Doctor's early behavior of someone that would manipulate and deceive others to get his way, as he does by purposefully removing the fluid link from the TARDIS consoles' inner circuitry, lying to the others about it losing its mercury, just so he could venture from the jungle to investigate the mysterious city. It's so interesting to see the Doctor being so callous at times, only caring for his own survival as well as Susan's. This is far from the adventurer willing to sacrifice his life for the sake of others that he would eventually become. This is especially true when he is willing to abandon both Ian and Barbara, and even the Thals and Daleks to their own devices. It showcases that the Doctor is first and foremost a scientist and an observer, with no interest in helping others. It is only when the fluid link is unknowingly taken by the Daleks that the Doctor wishes to use the Thals to get it back. This is not to say the Doctor is unlikeable in this story. One of my favorite scenes is the delight the Doctor takes in showcasing his food processing machine (which may actually have been the forerunner to the food replicator used in Star Trek). He shows a great deal of curiosity and fascination in learning about the history of Skaro and its people from Dyoni. In fact, he still showcases his vast intelligence and even a great deal of boyish excitement at collaborating with the Thals to outwit the Daleks. The Doctor also shows some remorse and admits to his lies when he realizes the apparent danger of radiation sickness. He also displays grim satisfaction at seeing the Daleks dying due to the loss of ambient radiation. 

Although Susan showcases moments of descent into the model of the shrieking young companion (which is understandable for a girl as young as she is facing unknown dangers), she still manages to provide input in assisting her grandfather and her friends. In addition, the fact that she was willing to go out of the Dalek City to the TARDIS to retrieve the anti-radiation gloves (oops, I mean drugs) alone shows a great deal of courage. 

Ian shows himself to be intelligent and a man of action as well. For it is actually he, not the Doctor, that wants to help the Thals to help themselves. It's Ian that condemns the Doctor's selfish actions that brought them to near death by radiation sickness and capture by the Daleks. It is Ian that understands the Thals stand on pacificism, but that there must come a time when you must fight to protect yourself and those around you from a danger you know will eventually eradicate you. It is this that Ian conveys to the Thals in order to gain their aid in confronting the Daleks and in retrieving the fluid link. 

Barbara balances out uncertainty and fear of the unknown with some level of intelligence, courage and compassion. The scene where she talks to Susan to comfort her after her frightening encounter, demonstrates an almost maternal quality that Barbara would display to one other companion, Vicki. 

The Daleks are portrayed with intelligence, arrogance, ruthless single-minded authority, cunning and are very xenophobic (at least only to the Thals). It is interesting to not that in this, their first appearance, the Daleks are only concerned with the continuation of their own species, not with conquering the universe or enslaving all existence. Their main concern was in erradicating the Thals and then adapting the planet to be efficient to the Daleks only. This is especially true when they use the Thals plight to lure them into a trap which results in the death of their leader Temmosus. Still, it was this first appearance that would continue to evoke horror and terror to fans throughout the years whenever we see them or hear them utter one single word: "EXTERMINATE!"

The Thals are quite interesting, as we see them as pacifists, people who are tired of war and only wish to live in peace. This peace exists only through the Thals avoidance of the Dalek City, and an ingrained refusal to revert back to what they once were, militaristic warriors. The Thals of importance to the story are very well scripted and fleshed out characters. 

Temmosus is a philosophical, idealistic man of peace, the benevolent rule of the Thals. Foolishly hoping to forge an alliance with the Daleks to establish a mutual exchange of ideas. Although foolish, it is understandable considering he and his people had no knowledge of what the Daleks had become after 500 years of separation. But Temmosus maintains a certain objectivity when he says that "certain things are often inevitable and we shouldn't fight against it". It showcases that on a certain level, Temmosus felt that his life was in danger when he decided to meet with the Daleks. It's a shame that he had to die, when all he wanted was to ensure the survival of his people through understanding and cooperation. Although his death is tragic, storywise it is necessary to demonstrate to the Thals something they needed to learn: it is futile being rational and reasonable to those who cannot be reasoned with. 

Alydon becomes the de facto leader upon Temmosus' death, and he too is an excellent character. Very kind, compassionate, trust-worthy and pragmatic. His adamant refusal to risk another war with the Daleks is understandable. Although the responsibility for the survival of his people has been thrust onto his shoulders, it is a duty he immediately takes to heart. It is only when Dyoni's safety is threatened by Ian's attempt to trade her to the Daleks for the fluid link that Alydon realizes what must be done. In true leadership capacity, he calls for a vote from his people on whether they are willing to risk their lives to ensure the survival of their race. 

Dyoni I like very much (even when she pouts). A beautiful and intelligent young woman that is proud of heritage and treasures the history of her culture and also hopes for a better future, but feels uncertain due to threat of famine. She shows a great deal of compassion towards her fellow Thals. She even takes a great delight in showing the Doctor information modules containing the history of Skaro and its people. She also seems to take great offense to outsiders who clearly do not know their ways or understand the necessity for their philosophy of pacifism. All in all she does an exceptional job as Alydon's lover, confidante, and friend. 

Ganatus is a pretty good character: brave, caring, loyal, open, and sensitive. His scenes with Barbara and the others provide many of the best character driven moments (forming a genuine and somewhat romantic bond with Barbara through the course of their time together). He showcases great strategic initiative by laying out the plan of attacking the city from the back through the dangerous swampland and through the mountains. 

It is an interesting note to see the opposing ends of both races. The Daleks are ruthless and vicious warmongers, while the Thals are too complacent in their pacifistic beliefs. 

All in all, this is one hell of an enjoyable story from all fronts. It is an excellent allegory of the consequences of nuclear war, as well as a parable for the pros and cons of pacifism. It is an excellent story that would solidify the show's popularity forever.

VHS... How quaint.

I've never really understood the bad rap that AMBASSADORS OF DEATH gets. Sure, it's in the middle of a good season, but I've never felt it was the weakest of Pertwee's first year. I'd much rather watch this again than view THE SILURIANS (I like the idea of SILURIANS much more than the actual story itself). AMBASSADORS is a straightforward romp that I found very enjoyable. When my copy arrived, I planned to watch the first tape one night, saving the second for the next evening. But I was having such a blast, I viewed the whole thing in one long sitting.

A lot of the time we fans find ourselves laughing at the show as often as we laugh with it. Time has not always been kind, and aspects of this serial show their age. Television and film were still new to the idea of portraying space travel realistically; it's amusing to see the production crew simulating weightlessness by turning the camera upside-down and running everything in slowmo. Gender equality is also something that the producers may have attempted, but, amusingly, Britain's Space Control Centre is staffed by a substantial number of pouting, miniskirted scientist-babes.

The story begins with the British Space Programme (well, it was the early 70s, and they were rather optimistic back then) mounting a rescue mission to discover what happened to their latest Mars Probe. When the capsule docks, contact is lost while a loud alien sound screams across the radio. The Doctor believes the sound is an alien message. Some time later, mysterious space-suited figures that can kill by touch are seen committing petty thefts, stealing radioactive isotopes and scientific equipment. 

My review is more a series of isolated thoughts. This is an entertaining romp, and deep, serious analysis wouldn't be particularly fruitful. My initial thought is that this is probably the story where the James Bond influence on the Pertwee era is the most apparent. The Doctor pulls gadgets from nowhere. He faces an earthbound menace with access to the latest military hardware. Gun-battles and chase scenes abound. There are even jazzy musical cues to punctuate the action.

On the subject of the music, I just want to say that I really dig the incidental score, occasionally inappropriate as it is (to me, action sequences don't scream out for flute solos). Of particular note is the piece played whenever the Ambassadors initiate their raids. Dreamy and atmospheric, I loved it the first time; multiple viewings have not diminished my appreciation.

Action by Havoc! Yes, the stunt-work in this one is impressive. AMBASSADORS relies on its action sequences and the team is more than up to the challenge. The battles are smoothly executed and sharply directed. Something that I found amusing (and I'm probably alone) is that one of the stuntmen reminded me of Stan Laurel. This presented me with very entertaining imagery. Stan Laurel shooting bad guys. Stan Laurel's rifle shot from his hands. Stan Laurel thrown from a helicopter. I guess life after Hardy was rough on the little guy.

The script contains quite a number of nice little moments. Reegan is particularly villainous, casually ordering his two lackeys to their deaths and then attending to the disposal of their bodies.

Visually, the story is strong. The blank faces of the space-suited aliens are as chilling as any other villain Doctor Who would produce. It's an effective way of highlighting the alien's fundamental otherness by placing the unfamiliar inside the familiar. Removing the face completely dehumanizes the aliens. It's a much more effective way of displaying their unsettling nature than if they had relied on cheap makeup.

The film sequences are fantastic -- a world of difference from the rather static studio portions. The shot of the Ambassador slowing walking towards the UNIT guard with the sun behind him would look at home in a smooth, atmospheric movie. Even the chase-scenes are inspired; note that stylish shot where Reegan races through metal walkways. He steps briefly into a puddle and the camera focuses on the reflection in the water as the ripples soften, allowing us to continue to see his progress. Cool stuff and not what one expects in a three-decade-old television production.

Towards the end, I was struck by the thought that the cliffhangers seemed unimaginative. Rather than having the episode build towards them, they just seemed to happen at whatever point in the story was up after twenty-five minutes. Wouldn't it have made more sense to move the episode five cliffhanger a few minutes so that it occurred as the alien spacecraft appears to smash the two capsules, rather than when the ship has merely appeared on the scanner?

In the later episodes, the story begins dragging. Liz gets very little to do, and her escape attempt adds nothing but time. The aliens are poorly realized outside their spacesuits. When the Ambassador removes his helmet, the director very wisely keeps the shots to a minimum, only showing the face either for a few moments, or from behind foggy glass. Unfortunately, he doesn't employee the same subtlety for the leader on the mothership, so we're treated to the sight of an alien made of oatmeal waving oven mitts at Jon Pertwee from behind a Venetian blind.

The restoration on the video is excellent. It's a pity that there was no alternative to fading between monochrome and color footage, but the transitions aren't especially jarring. The demonstration placed at the end of the second VHS tape really drives home how superior the cleaned up version is. 

There's a funny cheat in episode seven where Cornish explains that they can't obtain a good look at the alien spacecraft because radioactivity is blotting out cameras. That'll save a bit of money from the effects budget! But I have to forgive AMBASSADORS its cheats because it's just so damned entertaining. And while there are figures of power in the world willing to launch pre-emptive military strikes, this story will always be relevant.

When most people think of Ben Aaronovitch’s contribution to the television series of Doctor Who they automatically say ‘Oh yes, he wrote that one with the Daleks’. Having watched ‘the forgotten other story’ recently I would like to mention a few points in its favour. I get the impression that this opening story of the twenty-sixth season is a neglected classic of the McCoy era with many references and influences from other stories that have preceded it. Some of which are more obvious (the inclusion of Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, and the yellow roadster ‘Bessie’ (however one thing I thought was a bit too much of a coincidence was when it was finally uncovered after however long it’s been that it now surprisingly has the licence plate ‘WHO 7’!), whilst other are more subtle. Examples of which would be the use of a Citroen 2CV (echoes of the vehicles used in ‘The Sea Devils’) and King Arthur’s spaceship under Vortigern’s lake (sounds a bit like ‘Terror of the Zygons’ if you ask me!). Also it was probably a throw away line but when first encountering the UNIT personnel by the lake the Doctor is conviently carrying ‘antiquated passes’ presumably originally issued to the third Doctor and Liz Shaw. I say throwaway as Brigadier Bambera quickly ignores them, although it is enough to prompt her assistant Sergeant Zbrigniev to recall his time spent working for Lethbridge-Stewart.

We open with the garden centre scene and the remark of ‘Do you regret leaving teaching?’ directed at Lethbridge-Stewart clearly links to the 1983 Mawydrn Undead story. As far back as ‘Planet of the Spiders’ we knew of his romantic involvement with a lady called Doris, and it is here that we finally have the chance to briefly meet her at either end of the story. In the timeline of the series, having now retired from UNIT it is heartwarming to see they are now married and enjoying their more relaxed life together. An impressive Tudor residence set in beautiful gardens coupled with glorious summer weather is certainly one of many pleasing and memorable images this story presents. As he prepares to temporarily leave this tranquil setting, having once more dusted off and put on his uniform I thought it a nice bit of continuity that the case containing his service revolver and bullets had, in gold lettering, the inscription ‘AGLS-6’ (an acronym of Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart).

I feel this story succeeds in reaffirming the mystical quality of the Doctor who gains the identity of Merlin from those ‘star travellers’ from another dimension, visiting the Earth of the future. This is further supported by Sylvester McCoy’s interpretation of the Doctor whilst dealing with Ancelyn, Morgaine and her followers.

What we appear to have here is, in broad terms, a medieval knight society visiting a future Earth in our dimension attempting to acquire King Arthur’s sword Excalibur. I suspect from the battle between good and evil forces using some element of magic which has caused a time slip into our reality.

A criticism levelled against this story is the use of a lot of armour clad knights clonking about with broadswords with a lot of macho posturing. I personally think this is underserved as these brief medieval jousting is entirely appropriate to the piece. It is, at this point worth mentioning that the use of sword fighting is well documented throughout the series. Who could forget the Doctor battling the Master at the Fort (The Sea Devils) and in the banquet hall of Ranulfs castle (The Kings Demons). Not forgetting a tussle with Count Grendel (The Androids of Tara). And armour clad warriors brings memories of the Gundan robots (Warriors Gate). Here the protagonists really go for it coupled with some rousing incidental music to engage the viewer. Of course this is merely a prelude to the main medieval warriors against UNIT soldiers battle waged during the fourth episode, a suitably engaging piece filled with explosions, roars, swords, guns, and men flying through the air, all accompanied by more appropriately composed music.

Another criticism levelled against this story is regarding the temporary interest shown by the Doctor towards the scabbard hanging up next to the fireplace inside the Gore Crow hotel (an apparently long established building if the figure of 1684 carved into the stonework is to be believed). My opinion is that as the story progresses it is merely a red herring as there are more important things for our heroes to concentrate on. I think it is possibly because of Carbury Trust archaeologist Peter Warmsley’s action of removing the scabbard from its buried position Morgaine, Ancelyn and the other knights were able to lock onto the general location of Excalibur. It is when Morgaine and Mordred reach the Gore Crow hotel they then realise that it is merely an empty container and they then focus their attention elsewhere. Although it is interesting to note that whilst Mordred is performing a summoning ritual the scabbard is affected. We know that Excalibur poses magical powers, I suspect some of these rubbed off on the scabbard which had been in contact with it. It does indeed appear to be the same length as the mystical sword when the two objects are later held together by Ace and Shou Yuing whilst they dwell in the chalk circle thus supporting the supposition.

The future as depicted in the story is not so very different from our own, although inflation has certainly spiralled ever higher (Ј5 for three drinks at the Gore Crow hotel in the first episode – sounds like daylight robbery!). The only changes to UNIT appear to be pale blue berets and, now in command, a seemingly resolute determined young black female Brigadier in the shape of Winifred Bambera (taking charge on her arrival at the Gore Crow hotel, and threatening the assembled group at the end of the first episode spring to mind). Whilst most of the people seemed to accept her authority it is the attractive blond haired Ancleyn who delights in belittling her position of command from their first meeting. The character interaction between them during the remainder of the story (she trying to assert her authority, he belittling her) is one of the most enjoyable aspects of the story. Bambera finally appears to win this light hearted conflict during their journey in the 2CV when they encounter Morgaine’s troops blocking the road. You can understand the Knight Commander’s comment of ‘Magnificent’ when she pulls the top back and, having got Ancleyn to hold the steering wheel, climbed up, machine gun in hand and proceeded to coldly and clinically force the obstructing soldiers out of the way with abrupt precise rounds of her weapon.

The pairing of Ace with Chinese student Shou Yuing definitely worked well and providing the opportunity to probe into Ace’s past as the two girls enjoy their drinks outside at the rear of the Gore Crow hotel. The humorous story of the ‘home made gelignite’ and schoolteacher Mrs Parkinson’s inquiry and attempted confiscation of said questionable material further reaffirms her ultimate arrival on Iceworld (‘Dragonfire’).

As the main protagonist Jean Marsh, I feel, portrays the character well, thanks in part to an impressive bronze costume of plate and chain mail finished off with a subtle full length cloak. The finishing touches of long ‘witch’ nails, long crimped red hair and a tall plainly detailed regal crown added to her imposing presence. I particularly remember her encounter with Lethbridge Stewart’s pilot, Lovel in the Gore Crow hotel bar. Lovel uselessly fires her revolver at Morgaine who catches the bullets, grinds them into dust, then casually scatters them over the floor. With an air of subtly she moves in, fingernail talons extended towards Lovel’s head, the soldier slowly sinking to the floor in meek submission. Having gained the necessary information, the continued mind probing finally causing Lovel to scream out as her brain fries. Having been prompted, a brief extension of a taloned hand and the still figure of Lovel is dispassionately disintegrated.

The only aspect I found disappointing would be ‘The Destroyer’ character whom seemed to offer a threat to humanity but didn’t really deliver. However credit though is deserved to the make up team for realising this chained enemy who is easily despatched, via a polished performance from Nicholas Courtney, towards the end of the story.

In summary this is an enjoyable romp with a healthy mix of series history, magic, humour (McCoy’s creeping about early in the morning at the Gore Crow hotel, using a blown up crisp packet to wake Bambera and Ancelyn from their slumber is a good example of this) and armed conflict combined with an engaging incidental music score. If you are one of those people who have previously looked unfavourably on this story I hope you will return to it, give it another chance and possibly, just possibly you might realise that it isn’t quite as bad as it’s unjust reputation would suggest. For myself I sincerely hope that it might eventually be considered at some point in the near future, for membership in the ever growing ‘exclusive DVD title release club’, complete with deleted scenes and maybe, if applicable, with a stereo soundtrack.

Unfairly remembered for buggering up UNIT dating, 'Mawdryn Undead' is really a rather good story. It has a very atypical plot for Doctor Who, which makes rare use of the fact that the series can exploit time travel as a plot device. In addition to this, after committing the heinous sin of scripting 'Time-Flight' Peter Grimwade proves surprisingly successful at juggling an old enemy, an old friend, and a new companion. 

Firstly, the principle plot concerns Mawdryn, an unfortunate scientist who along with his companions once stole technology from the Time Lords in an attempt to emulate them. Having accidentally condemned themselves to an eternity of perpetual regeneration and mutation, they now seek to find a way of committing suicide, a difficult task for a group of immortals. This plot is used very well for a number of reasons; for one thing, it makes a refreshing change for a story to focus on an opponent of sorts for the Doctor who is not out to gain power, but who wants help to die. Perhaps wisely, the script side steps the moral issues of euthanasia by emphasizing the ghastly state of Mawdryn's existence, which further means that whilst he is suffering as a consequence of his own past actions, he is not an unsympathetic character. He clearly bears no malice towards the Doctor or his companions; he is motivated purely by his desperate search for help. David Collings, one of Doctor Who's finest occasional guest actors, conveys this beautifully, making Mawdryn seem desperate and pathetic, but never frightening, and also eliciting sympathy. The scenes in which he masquerades as the Doctor make for interesting viewing, and Tegan and Nyssa's uncertainty about him is made believable in part by some rather impressive burnt skin makeup. He clearly doesn't look that much like Peter Davison even then, but this gruesome makeup does make it easier to believe that they could mistake him for their friend. Mention of the Doctor brings up another notable element of the Mawdryn plotline, which is the Fifth Doctor's reaction to events. His initial refusal to help Mawdryn is interesting because whilst it's perfectly understandable given the cost, he clearly finds it enormously painful to reject Mawdryn's plea for aid. Even when asked to sacrifice his own life (or rather, future lives) to help someone whose predicament is entirely their own fault, he still finds it hard to turn them away. Davison brings out this facet of the Doctor's personality magnificently, and the Doctor's sympathy for Mawdryn when he first meets him speaks volumes about his character. When he finally agrees to sacrifice his future incarnations to save Tegan and Nyssa, it sums up this most compassionate of Doctors, as he visible struggles with the enormity of the situation that he is facing and still decides to put the lives of his friends before his own. There's also a certain irony inherent in his scenes with Mawdryn; Mawdryn is a thief who stole Gallifreyan technology and thus created his eternal torment. It's easy to condemn him for this and point out, as the Doctor does, that sometimes people need to accept the consequences of their own actions. The irony is that the Doctor also stole Gallifreyan technology, in the form of the TARDIS, and if he hadn't, he would probably have never met Mawdryn. 

The second main plot thread concerns new companion Turlough, a companion totally unlike any seen before. Mark Strickson makes an immediate impression in the role, as Turlough proves initially to be selfish, bullying, cruel, and arrogant, as his scenes with Ibbotson attest. As if these unsavoury qualities were not unusual enough in a companion, he soon makes a deal with the Black Guardian to kill the Doctor, and spends the remainder of the story alternating between trying to kill or manipulate the Doctor and trying to weasel out of his agreement. As soon as he agrees to commit murder, he becomes arguably the single untrustworthiest companion to join the TARDIS crew, and as such he's a great character. The Doctor's quick acceptance of his new acquaintance means that he is soon treating Turlough like a trusted friend, which adds an extra edge to proceedings, as Turlough repeatedly turns to the Guardian for instructions. Whilst Turlough will remain in thrall to the Black Guardian for two more stories however, he begins his slow redemption early on; after his initial attempt to kill the Doctor, he realises that the Time Lord is not the creature of evil that his Guardian claimed, and his general dislike of violence soon means that he's looking for less drastic ways to satisfy the Guardian. Strickson is great in the role, playing the arrogant bully with ease in Episode One, and then switching to increasingly panic-stricken coward as he realises that he has (almost literally) made a deal with the devil. His joining of the TARDIS crew at the end holds great promise, as he proves adept at lying and deceit and calmly shakes hands with the Doctor; indeed, it is worth noting that however frantic Turlough gets about his predicament, he always manages to present a calm faзade to the TARDIS crew. It's also interesting that Turlough's first appearance in the series involves attempted murder motivated by a selfish desire to escape his exile; lest we forget, in his first televised story, a certain Time Lord also intended to kill a man with a rock in an attempt to get back to his TARDIS…

The return of the Black Guardian is rather poorly explained given that he last appeared some years previously in the final scenes of the Key to Time season, but his presence does add an extra dimension to an already multi-layered story, without making it seem too cluttered. The lurking menace of the Guardian works well in conjunction with the use of his new pawn Turlough, and his quiet manipulation of events from behind the scenes is well handled. Despite inexplicably wearing a dead bird on his head, Valentine Dyall's utterly malevolent performance is superb, and he is one of only a few actors who can get away with uttering lines such as "In the name of all that is evil!" without sounding over the top. The Guardian's constant torment of Turlough makes for some great moments, his ability to appear to Turlough anywhere "waking or sleeping" emphasizing the nightmarish situation in which Turlough has placed himself. 

The other old face to reappear in 'Mawdryn Undead' is the Brigadier. Whilst the production teams' original plan to bring back Ian Chesterton might have made more sense in light of the school setting, Courtney recaptures his old role with tremendous ease and the Brigadier is very well used. The idea of two temporal aspects of the Brigadier means that the plot makes good use of him, rather than just treating him as a gratuitous guest appearance, and makes for a satisfying addition to the already busy proceedings. Courtney brings to the role an air of dignity that draws on the Brigadier's characterisation in Season Seven, rather than the increasingly ludicrous buffoon that he became under Barry Letts' tenure as producer, and this is partly why he works so well here. Courtney also manages to make Lethbridge-Stewart seem vulnerable whilst maintaining his old character, and his performance in Episode Two as the Doctor tries to discover the cause of his breakdown six years previously is quite touching. The flashback scene as the Brigadier's memory is restored is rather gratuitous but nevertheless strangely satisfying, as the fan in me gets to see clips of old stories; more importantly, the entire scene serves as a reminder of just how strong a friendship developed between the Doctor and the Brigadier. I also hugely appreciate the fact that 'Mawdryn Undead' exploits the two time zone plotline, which is crucial to tying all the disparate elements of the story together in the final scene; with the Black Guardian having stacked the laws of probability against the Doctor, the coincidence of the two Briagdiers touching hands at exactly the right millisecond seems appropriate rather than contrived. 

Of the regular cast, I've mentioned Davison already. Given the number of elements vying for screen time already in 'Mawdryn Undead', Sarah Sutton and Janet Fielding get relatively little to do, but when they are used, Grimwade uses them well. By keeping them largely together their different personalities can be exploited; thus, they get to meet Mawdryn and the Brigadier as a pair, which means that Tegan's automatic distrust of Mawdryn contrasts with Nyssa's natural desire to help those in need, and at the same time Nyssa's scientific background is well used throughout the script. Her ability to chip in when the Doctor is spouting explanations results in three way conversations between the TARDIS crew members which makes it seem less obvious that Doctor is explaining the plot to the audience through his companions. 

The production of 'Mawdryn Undead' is generally quite impressive; Peter Moffatt's direction is competent if unspectacular, but the location filming greatly benefits the story. The sets too are rather good; those for the school interior nicely match the exterior, and those used for Mawdryn's sets capture the cold grandeur suggested by the script. This contributes to an air of eeriness on board the ship that works particularly well in Episode One, and the incidental score helps. Paddy Kingsland's score is effective throughout, except for some silly music when Turlough is driving the Brigadier's car at the start of Episode One. The costumes used for the mutants are very effective, although exactly how Mawdryn obtains an outfit identical to those of his brethren having been carried into the TARDIS in charred rags is a question left unanswered… My only real criticism of 'Mawdryn Undead' is the propensity for technobabble, with talk of warp ellipses and Mawdryn's constant mutation little more than gibberish. The most obvious example if when Tegan and Nyssa become infected; the nature of their infection is very obviously glossed over, with even the Doctor explaining that he doesn't know why he and the Brigadier are immune. Poor explanations mean less technobabble, which is fine, but the fact that travel in the TARDIS seems to affect them differently to Mawdryn once they are infected remains niggling plot hole. But this is a trivial criticism; on the whole, 'Mawdryn Undead' is a rewarding story and one that is deserving of far greater appreciation than it usually gets.