'Frontier in Space' marks the final appearance of the Roger Delgado Master, due to Delgado's tragic death shortly afterwards. Despite some padding, it is on the whole a fine swansong for Delgado, who puts in one of his finest performances. 

The Doctor/Master rivalry reaches its peak here, as for once, the Master comes close to winning. This is reflected in his attitude towards the Doctor from the moment he first appears in Episode Three. As I've noted previously, during his first four stories, the Master was often quick to find excuses not to kill the Doctor, seeming to want his approval. This changed at the end of 'Colony in Space', when the Doctor refused his offer of a half share in the Universe, after which all his attempts to kill the Doctor seemed genuine. Having been repeatedly defeated, we may assume that the Master had finally had enough of being thwarted and decided to stop playing games. Here, the emphasis shifts, as the Master retains the upper hand until the very end of the story. By the time that the Doctor materialises on board the Earth cargo ship in Episode One, the Master has already sown the seeds of war and remains convinced until Episode Six that the Doctor is too late to avert it. He's almost right, as witnessed by the fact that until the Doctor reaches Draconia, nobody except the imprisoned Professor Dale believes his story about Ogrons. As a result, the Master can afford to enjoy his victory, which is precisely what he does. When the Ogrons bring him the Doctor's TARDIS, he immediately sets out to recover both Jo and the Doctor, and on meeting them both he is at his most charming. Indeed, he's almost jovial. This continues until the very end of the story; even when his ship is captured by the Draconians, he remains relaxed because he knows that the Ogrons are on their way to rescue him. He loses his temper briefly when the Ogrons leave one of their number behind, which is just the proof that the Doctor needs to avert the war that he has been fermenting, but on recovering the Ogron - and taking Jo hostage - he soon regains his composure. Even when the Doctor discovers his base he is smug, clearly relishing the idea of springing his allies on the Doctor. It is only at the very end of the story, when General Williams and the Draconian Prince escape and the Doctor reaches his TARDIS that he realises too late that he should have killed the Doctor earlier. Unfortunately, the ending of Episode Six of 'Frontier in Space' is horribly edited, so that this effect is rather lost; the Master loses off a shot at the Doctor and wounds him, but then vanishes. This suggests, rather implausibly, that the Master's own hypnotic device has affected him, resulting in a rather unsatisfactory final scene for Delgado. Nevertheless, overall the finale of the Third Doctor/Master conflict works well, allowing the Master to regain some credibility.

In contrast to the Master, the Doctor has a rather undignified time during 'Frontier in Space', spending most of it either locked up or under interrogation. This is obviously padding, but it is an example of padding that works, thanks to a combination of a good script and excellent performances from Pertwee and Manning. Pertwee still seems to be enjoying himself again, making the most out of the dialogue between the Doctor and Jo, so that their often lengthy conversations whilst locked up work to demonstrate the genuine warmth between the pair of them. In addition, since this is the last appearance of Delgado in the series I found myself thinking back to 'Terror of the Autons', which reminded how far Jo has come. From the easily hypnotized, almost vacuous character she appeared to be in her debut, she has developed into a resourceful companion who now stands up to the Master defiantly (her steadfast refusal to be hypnotized by him in this story is marvellous) and takes being locked up and threatened by Ogrons in her stride. Manning's delivery of the dialogue she's asked to spout whilst the Doctor is making his furtive space walk outside the Master's ship in Episode Four is cringe-worthy, but I assume that this is intentional, since the Master looks bored with it and turns the sound off. Despite being a frequent prisoner here, the Doctor still gets some great moments, particularly when he wins over the Draconian Emperor. Thus, in a story that asks little of them in terms of action, both of the main characters still manage to shine. 

Characterisation being Hulke's forte, there is plenty on display here. Even minor characters are rendered three dimensional via throwaway lines, so for example the officer who arrests the Doctor and Jo on board the cargo vessel at the start of episode two is present when they are taken to their cell, and promises to arrange some food for them. This is irrelevant to the larger story, but shows this minor character to be more than just a uniform. Similarly, the two members of the cargo ship's crew react differently when they are first threatened by the Ogron ship, the Captain insisting that they make a stand and defend their cargo, whilst his terrified companion begs him to surrender. The script is full of these minor details, which add touches of character to the supporting cast. The two main groups of characters other than the Doctor and Jo and the Master and his Ogrons are of course the Draconian and the human governments. In the case of the humans, we only really see two people of significance, General Williams and the President. Hulke skillfully includes in his script hints of a larger government, with talk of a senate and suggestions that an ineffective President can be removed from office. This avoids the problem of trying to suggest that a President of the entire planet would rule virtually single-handedly, whilst simultaneously allowing for a small cast. Here again also, the characterisation of these characters works well, especially in the case of General Williams. On two occasions, expectations are subverted, first when the General, obviously frustrated with the President, nevertheless makes it clear that he will not betray her, and alter when this supposedly xenophobic warmonger realises that the war he caused previously between Earth and Draconia was the result of a terrible misunderstanding on his part. Impressively, he quickly admits his mistake and apologizes, looking suitably repentant. Admittedly, neither Michael Hawkins nor Vera Fusak put in especially captivating performances, but the scripting shines through nonetheless. 

In the Draconian court, the effect is much the same, with talks of the Emperor depending on the great families for support, and the Emperor (played by the ever-reliable John Woodnutt) palpably older and wiser than his hotheaded but ultimately noble son. Again therefore, Hulke hints at a wider society. Indeed, the Draconian custom that women may not speak in the presence of the Emperor gives us further insight into their society, as does the importance that they place on honour, both providing glimpses of a wider culture. The prisoners on the moon whom the Doctor encounters are also well characterised, from the (rather strange) Peace Party lynchpin Professor Dale, to the idealistic Patel, to the untrustworthy trustee Cross. Even the briefly seen Governor is well characterised, a petty, rather cruel, man basking in the power he holds over his prisoners and inflated with self-importance.

The return of Ogrons is of little importance, given their role as stupid henchmen, but since they served the same role in 'Day of the Daleks', there's no real reason why they might as well not be used. More important is the fact that anyone familiar with their previous appearance might put two and two together and realize who the Master's mysterious employers are. Even with foreknowledge however, the appearance of the Daleks in Episode Six is a great moment, as they glide into view on the cliff-tops and casually gun down the Earth soldiers. Once it becomes clear that the Daleks are behind the attempt to start a war between Earth and Draconia, it immediately offers the potential of an epic story to come, suggesting perhaps that the Daleks on embarking on some campaign on the scale of that in 'The Daleks' Master Plan' or 'The Evil of the Daleks'. The cliffhanger ending to 'Frontier in Space', as the Doctor sets off in pursuit of the Daleks, therefore has tremendous promise. Unfortunately, what it delivers is one of the worst stories of the Pertwee era...

It's a while since I last watched 'The Green Death', but I remember thinking that it wasn't very good. Consequently, watching it again proved to be a pleasant surprise (especially after the execrable 'Planet of the Daleks'), since I thoroughly enjoyed it. 

The basic plot of 'The Green Death' concerns the dangers of pollution, and in some ways harkens back to the glory days of Season Seven, with the earthbound menaces of 'Doctor Who and the Silurians' and 'Inferno'. Global Chemicals is a big, ruthless corporation promising a cheaper supply of petrol by using a new chemical process, but which is causing particularly dangerous pollution as a by-product. Opposing them are the members of Professor Jones' Wholeweal community, basically eco-activists who are on the verge of being hippies. Caught in the middle of this are the local miners, three of whom get killed off by the pollution in the mine, and UNIT, who are ordered to provide security for Global Chemicals despite the Brigadier's entirely justified distrust of Stevens. This is a reasonably sound premise in itself, but it succeeds beyond that due to some intelligent characterisation and decent acting. It would have been very easy to just portray the employees of Global Chemicals as faceless corporate drones, but instead Sloman and Letts give them some character; Elgin rebels against Stevens when he learns that his superior is refusing to lend cutting equipment to UNIT because he doesn't want the mine to be investigated further. All Elgin cares about is that lives are at stake, and he holds this in greater importance than the profits of his company. Fell likewise overcomes his programming to save the Doctor and Jo when they are trapped in the pipe, for much the same reasons. Even one of the guards shows a human side, asking "Doris" the cleaning lady how her husband is. We also have the Wholeweal community members, who could easily have been portrayed as stereotypical hippies or indeed some kind of lunatic fringe, but who are instead shown to be a community of intelligent scientists; Professor Jones of course, is even a Nobel prize winner. 

'The Green Death' also benefits from two effective villains. When I reviewed 'The War Machines', I mentioned that I dislike megalomaniac computers as villains. Whilst this is still true, I find that BOSS works quite well, primarily because he's charismatic and thus quite unlike most evil computers in science fiction, including WOTAN. He is bombastic, chatty and rather amusing, especially when he hums Wagnerian ditties as Stevens prepares the final stages of his plan to take over the world (or at least parts of it). I do find it slightly annoying that the Doctor is able to confuse him with a simple logical conundrum, which is an unfortunately clichйd stock method for foxing naughty computers, and which BOSS should in any case realize is a transparent trick if he's really been programmed to be irrational. What I also like about BOSS is his interaction with Stevens, whom he does genuinely seem to consider a friend, and whom he constantly teases and taunts. The irony of course is that Stevens has less of a sense of humour that his transistorized accomplice. Stevens himself is superbly portrayed by Jerome Willis, who imbues the character with an air of icy menace, but who also shows the character's human side. Ruthless and dedicated though he is, Stevens seems to genuinely believe that what he is doing is right, until his very last scene, and like BOSS he seems to value his friendship with the computer. Consequently, their final scene works very well, as Stevens is convinced that what he is doing is wrong and destroys BOSS. However, this is not simply played as Stevens destroying a machine, it is rather a case of him killing his best friend, and it is for this reason that Stevens remains behind to die with it. BOSS's pitiful cries of "It hurts" and Stevens's tears as they die together make it a poignant moment, even if their plan was rather Machiavellian. 

The main iconic image from 'The Green Death' that everyone remembers is of course the maggots. The interesting thing about the maggots is that they do not directly form part of BOSS's plans and he and Stevens are as keen to get rid of them as everybody else, since their very existence proves that the accusations leveled against Global Chemicals's new process are absolutely true. Consequently, the maggots are in a sense token monsters, since the danger of the pollution could have been shown solely by the deadly green slime that gives the story the name. However, the maggots work because they emphasize this point and in effect act as a more monstrous embodiment of pollution than the slime alone, which probably had more of an impact on a traditional Saturday teatime Doctor Who audience. For the most part, the maggots work well in close-up, when the stuffed-condom maggots are used, with their gaping mouths. Unfortunately however, this is not the only way in which they are depicted, and the other ways in which they are realized are rather variable. Long shots of static maggot mock-ups don't hide the fact that they don't wriggle, but even less successful is the use of CSO to superimpose various actors against a shot of normal sized live maggots in green food colouring. Even worse is the giant fly in Episode Six, which criminally manages to be far less convincing than the one seen almost a decade earlier in 'Planet of Giants'. I usually don't complain about dodgy effects, but it irks me when they get progressively *worse* over time, and I remain convinced that better camera work and editing could have reduced the need for CSO maggots. My other criticism is that the maggots' resistance to, well, anything, stretches things a bit by Episode Five; I don't care how big they are, chitin is neither bullet-proof or fire proof!

As I'm on the subject, I'll just mention the overall production. Generally 'The Green Death' is rather well directed, and great use is made of location filming. The sets all work well, especially the mines, which are quite convincing. Particularly note worthy is the sequence in Episode One, when the action cuts repeatedly back and forth between the Brigadier in Stevens's office, and Professor Jones and Jo in the Nuthutch (with occasionally switches to the Doctor on Metebelis 3). This is highly effective in establishing the basic plot, as both parties discuss Global Chemicals' new process, Stevens praising it, and the Professor criticizing it. And since I've brought it up, Metebelis 3 looks suitably alien, due to it being (as far as I can tell) shot on film, and lit with blue lighting. However, I personally consider this story to suffer more from bad CSO than any other Doctor Who story. It isn't just the amount used, but rather the fact that it stands out more than usual. I'm not sure why this is, but it looks terrible, enhancing the infamous "wobbly line" effect, and making bits of whatever is being imposed vanish, most notably the edges of the advancing maggot at the end of Episode Three. 

At this point, I feel I must mention the Welsh. It's frankly astonishing that the BBC managed to get away with this as much as they did, for never have a seen such ludicrous stereotyping. To appreciate how astonishing this is, image any other ethnic group instead of the Welsh being this badly stereotyped, and cringe. They are nearly all miners, they all say Boyo and Blodwyn, and the milkman is called "Jones-the-milk". Even on a visit to Maesteg, in the heart of Mid-Glamorgan, I've never witnessed such things! Mind you, Talfryn Thomas as Dai Evans puts in rather a good performance; he actually gives the impression that lives are at stake at the start of Episode Two, as he and the Doctor struggle to stop the plummeting lift. 

The regulars are generally very good here. Pertwee is at the top his form throughout, especially when the Doctor is dealing with Jo's impending departure. He also makes the Metebelis 3 scenes work well, and I personally find them highly amusing; after repeated mentions of the planet, as soon as he arrives he is attacked by a tentacle, and then beset by snakes and giant birds, before legging it back to the TARDIS as various objects clatter off the door behind him including spears. It's quite silly, but it's also funny, and Pertwee makes it work. His heartfelt "I'll talk to anyone" when he gets back and answers the 'phone nicely emphasizes his relief to be back. He also uses his knack for righteous anger very well when dealing with both Stevens and BOSS, without slipping into the pious pomposity of 'Planet of the Daleks'. Having said that, points are deducted for his ridiculous drag-act, particularly his stupid female voice impression. The Brigadier, previously reduced to the status of an imbecile, here makes something of a comeback. His smooth, diplomatic attitude when dealing Stevens recalls the commanding figure of Season Seven, and he even manages to keep his dignity when silenced by the Prime Minister. In addition, he gets on well with the Wholeweal community, proving as he used to do that he's not just some kind of clichйd military idiot but an intelligent man who is quite willing to listen to other people's points of view with an open mind even if he is duty-bound by his job. Even Yates isn't bad here; I still dislike Richard Franklin's portrayal immensely, but his role as a spy at least gives the character something useful to do and his usual inappropriate cheekiness is mercifully restrained. Although during the scene in which the disguised Doctor writes "Get rid of him" on the window, Yates continues to gawp idiotically until the guard almost spots the message and the Doctor, a trivial but thoroughly irritating matter. 

Finally, there is of course Jo. She's come a long way from the dumb blonde of 'Terror of the Autons', and by this point is a great character in her own right. The seeds of her departure are sown right from the start, as she shuns a trip to Metebelis 3 in favour of a visit to Professor Jones, champion of a cause that she is currently interested in, and as she does so the Doctor sadly reflects "the fledgling flies the coop". Her growing attachment to Professor Jones, and his reciprocated feelings, are gradually built up, making it obvious that she is going to be staying with him not only to the audience, but also to the Doctor; his childish hijacking of the Professor at the end of Episode Three so that he and Jo can't be alone together shows just how much the Doctor is affected by the realization of her imminent departure. After this immature lapse however, he sadly comes to accept it, and watches them grow closer until the end of the story, as she and the Professor get engaged. His final scene with Jo, as he gives her the Metebelis crystal, is very poignant, and had far more of an effect on me for watching the series in order that it ever did watching the story at random. The Doctor's quiet departure in Bessie is a moving end to a strong final story for Jo.

As yet unreleased on video or DVD and notorious for its poor dinosaur effect, 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' is largely overlooked. Frankly it doesn't deserve to be; dinosaurs aside, it is rather good, boasting an interesting plot, good characterisation, and, most incredibly of all, a decent performance from Richard Franklin as Mike Yates. 

First of all however, let's get the Dinosaurs out of the way. I've said many times that I don't judge Doctor Who on its effects, and this story is no exception, but due the infamy of the Dinosaur effects used here I should at least mention them. In fact they aren't all equally bad; the pterodactyl is quite effective, simply because it is a full-sized mechanical prop rather than a small rubber toy. Of the actual models, the brontosaurus and the stegosaurus aren't too bad, although they are a bit static. Nevertheless, their proportions look about right and careful direction manages to make the best out of them. I wouldn't say they look any worse that the Dinosaur in 'Doctor Who and the Silurians'. The triceratops is rather ropier, but again, Paddy Russell manages to make the best of it by keeping it in shadow and behind a pile of rubble, thus disguising the poor quality of the prop. However, even the most careful direction can't disguise the fact that the tyrannosaurus is absolutely crap. It is the classic rubber dinosaur, slightly disproportioned, with a duck-billed mouth, and listing constantly to one side. If this was Monty Python, the cliff-hanger to Episode One would not be the rubber Tyrannosaurus appearing in front of the Doctor and Sarah, it would be the arrival of the giant toddler whop owns it… It really is a cheap and nasty prop, and looks bad every time it appears. To add insult to injury, at the start of Episode Three, as Mike fires his revolver at it, Richard Franklin is stood next to a completely immobile and equally unconvincing giant plastic tyrannosaurus leg in a feeble attempt to show that he's stood underneath the monster. They really shouldn't have bothered. 

Fortunately, although the Dinosaurs are mentioned in the story title, they are peripheral to the main plot and Malcolm Hulke wisely keeps their involvement to a minimum, and in most other aspects, 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' succeeds admirably. For starters, Episode One (titled simply 'Invasion') is startlingly effective, reminding me just how weird a deserted city, especially one like London, seems. It's highly effective and very intriguing, as the Doctor and Sarah wander the streets of London searching for anyone to tell them what is happening, encountering looters, a temporally displaced and utterly terrified peasant, and a screeching pterodactyl, before being arrested by the army. The army's refusal to believe that the Doctor is UNIT's scientific advisor is a sneaky but effective use of padding, something which Hulke is very good at; the Doctor's problems with the army last until half-way through Episode Two, before the Brigadier turns up to vouch for him. As with 'The Sea Devils' and 'Frontier in Space', Hulke's last two stories, there are examples of this sort of padding throughout the story, and as in those two stories, Hulke's knack for characterisation and dialogue manages to make this padding interesting. However, the real masterstroke of 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' comes at the end of Episode Three; just as the novelty of the Dinosaurs is wearing off, the viewer gets the first glimpse of just what is really going on, with a suitably bizarre twist. 

The villains of 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' contribute significantly to the story's success. The plot attempts to make them seem sympathetic; Grover genuinely wants Sarah to understand why he is trying to return Earth to its "Golden Age", for example, and Grover, Finch, and Butler are motivated by a real sense that what they are doing is for the best. Noel Johnson is excels at conveying this, seemingly disturbed by the measures he feels he is constantly forced to take, but taking them anyway; in Episodes Five and Six, when he pleads with the People, he does almost seem to be agonized by the situation. Finch and Butler get less opportunity to demonstrate any such motivation, but John Bennett and Martin Jarvis nevertheless make the most of their roles, and despite his apparent intention to shoot the Doctor, Finch is given a certain air of nobility by Bennett's performance. Despite their belief that what they are doing is right however, Grover and his associates are of course characterised by a ruthless intent, which is to effectively wipe out millions of people. They are almost a cult, dedicated to some nebulous cause and willing to go to any ends to achieve it; the script successfully highlights the hypocrisy inherent in their intentions; Sarah argues with Grover that he is about to commit mass-murder, and that his so-called "Golden Age" would thus be based on a foundation of genocide. The uncomfortable Grover firmly states that it isn't murder, as these people simply will never have existed; clearly this is intended to convince him rather than Sarah. A more disturbing example of the hypocrisy inherent in these people is actually seen in the "ship"; the People are unaware of Grover's true intentions and believe that they are leaving the filth and social degradation of Earth behind them to instead find a new home. Consequently, they are not knowingly participating in the mass-murder of Earth's population, which makes Ruth's intention to "destroy" Sarah rather chilling. Ruth's brave new world is threatened by Sarah's dissent, so her solution is murder. The inherent issue of course, being what sort of "Golden Age" could possibly be built on the summary execution of people who don't agree with the majority opinion. In addition to this, even her less terminal solution to the Sarah problem is disturbing, amounting as it does to brainwashing. Interestingly, there is one key villain who does not fit this pattern: Professor Whitaker. Whitaker is not remotely sympathetic and shows absolutely no interest in Grover's cause. Instead Peter Miles' icy performance suggests a man whose sole motivation is personal achievement; having been dismissed by his peers for his theories on time travel, he is concerned only with proving his abilities. A clue to this, which also demonstrates his arrogance, comes during Episode Two, when Mike describes the Doctor as the most brilliant scientist on Earth; Whitaker's response suggests just who he thinks is the world's greatest scientist. 

And then there's Mike. I've made no secret of the fact that I can't stand either the character of Mike Yates, or Richard Franklin's performance. Here however, he almost redeems his past appearance, as Yates is revealed as the traitor inside UNIT. Given this unusual and unexpected character development, Franklin puts in a restrained, troubled performance as Yates struggles with his conscience, torn between the lure of Operation Golden Age and his guilt at betraying his friends, especially the Doctor, who he clearly respects enormously. Unlike the other conspirators, Yates seems confused, a victim of Grover's propaganda, but convinced by it nonetheless to the extent that he is willing to be party to the eradication of the vast majority of mankind, even showing willingness to sacrifice himself for the cause if necessary. Equally guilty of the crime of being party to near-genocide, Yates is obviously more tortured by his conscience than Grover, Finch or Butler, and is painfully aware of the hypocrisy of the operation, even going so far as to tell Butler and Whitaker that he won't allow the Doctor to be harmed because if they resort to such levels, they are no better than the society that they intend to replace. Ultimately, Yates' participation in Operation Golden Age is unforgivable, but his past involvement with the Doctor and UNIT gives him the chance to redeem himself, as he is given extended sick leave rather than facing a court-martial like Finch does. 

The other two regular members of UNIT shine here, the Brigadier once more on form in particular. His defiance of General Finch even before he knows that the General is a traitor, is motivated largely by his faith in the Doctor. Even though the Doctor is unsure of the Brigadier's reliability briefly in Episode Five (after the Doctor is arrested when Whitaker frames him), the viewer is not; his carefully measured response makes it clear that he is highly suspicious of the circumstances. Benton too does very well out of the script, his faith in the Doctor even more obvious especially when he allows the Doctor to overpower him and escape; clearly, he never once doubts the Time Lord.

The Doctor is well written here, immediately posing a threat to the success of Operation Golden Age from the moment he meets up with Lethbridge-Stewart, whereas prior to this the conspirators have been successfully keeping UNIT distracted. His rapid conclusion that the dinosaurs are merely a means to clear central London prompts the conspirators to take steps, Yates being ordered to sabotage the Doctor's stun gun. This tips the balance of events, causing them to reveal their hand, take the first steps towards blowing Mike's cover and ultimately be defeated. Sarah too plays a key role and gets to show off her investigative skills, discovering Whitaker's involvement, locating Grover's hidden base, and revealing the truth to the People. In summary, 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' is a well-crafted, interesting story, which is thoroughly underrated and worthy or reappraisal.

In my review of 'The Monster of Peladon', I stated that after that exercise in tedium, things did not improve for Pertwee's final story. In fact, I found that on this occasion I enjoyed 'Planet of the Spiders' more than on previous viewings, and it is certainly an improvement on its immediate predecessor. Nevertheless, although it has enjoyable aspects, it still falls down on many levels and is horrendously padded. 

First of all the plot is stretched rather thin. Everyone chases around after the crystal for five episodes, then the Doctor surrenders it in Episode Six and everything blows up. Unlike Malcolm Hulke's six part stories, the padding on display here is not of sufficient quality to carry this wafer-thin plot, resulting in blatant filler. The most obvious example is of course the notoriously indulgent chase sequence in Episode Two, in which the Doctor and UNIT pursue a fleeing Lupton, only for him to teleport to safety after ten minutes of self-indulgent vehicle swapping. As many people have noted, he might just as well have teleported back to the monastery immediately, and as The Discontinuity Guide points out, the spider on his back should have been squashed whenever Lupton sits in a vehicle. A further example of dull padding is in Episode Four, in which the Doctor spends over half of the episode virtually unconscious until a gimmick from the TARDIS cures him. By the end of Episode Five, the plot has become so badly stretched out to fill the episode allocation that the cliffhanger involves a threat to a supporting character. 

Fortunately, some of the guest cast manage to make 'Planet of the Spiders' reasonably interesting. John Dearth makes for an interesting villain, due to decent motivation; a former salesman who has fallen on hard times, Lupton is motivated by a desire for revenge, from which his urge for power originates. Dearth puts in an excellent performance as the world-weary Lupton, and the script allows for an interesting twist in the shape of his relationship with his eight-legged ally. It would have been all too easy for Lupton to be in thrall to the spider, but instead when the spider mentally attacks him, he turns the tables on it and delivers a similar attack in return. This results in a genuine alliance between the two for a time, as Lupton seeks power on Earth and the spider seeks power on Metebelis Three. Unfortunately, by Episode Four, the writers seem to have lost interest in Lupton or simply don't know what else to do with him; he stands around arguing impotently for two episodes, until his spider ally gets tired of him and the spiders kill him. Bit of a waste, really. The other villains, the spiders themselves, are surprisingly effective, especially when clinging to backs, and their voices are chillingly effective. We also get inter-spider politics as "Lupton's" spider vies with the Queen for power, which adds to the plot somewhat. Most effective of all is the Great One, an utterly insane vast spider sitting at the heart of the crystal mountain that proves to be a match for the Doctor. The scene in which she forces the Doctor to march in a circle is strikingly effective. 

The other guest cast members worthy of note are Cyril Shaps, Kevin Lindsay, George Cormack, and John Kane. Shaps' ill-fated Professor Clegg works well as a tortured soul nursing a terrifying secret and his tragic death caused inadvertently by the Doctor's hunger for knowledge precursors K'anpo's lecture to the Doctor in Episode Six; all of the events depicted are indirectly his fault, due to his "theft" of the crystal; had he never removed it from Metebelis Three, the Great One would have completed her web long ago and destroyed herself then, thus sparing generations of humans on Metebelis Three from the spiders' tyranny. Cormack is excellent as K'anpo, conveying an air of gentle wisdom throughout his scenes. His gentle urging of the Doctor to sacrifice his third life for the sake of all is rather effective and of course resolves the plot, since otherwise the Doctor would have continued trying to stop the spiders from gaining the crystal. Lindsay's performance is also excellent in Episodes Five and Six, as he challenges the group in the cellar before his true nature is revealed and he becomes K'anpo. Unfortunately, he's rather less effective in earlier episodes, as he does little but spout Buddhist sayings constantly, which quickly becomes irritating. Finally, John Kane is very good as the slow Tommy, whose gradual transformation by the crystal is the one example of good padding in 'Planet of the Spiders'. He still doesn't merit a cliffhanger though. 

Unfortunately, 'Planet of the Spiders' is marred by rather less impressive supporting characters and guest cast in addition to those mentioned above. Lupton's cronies are all acted well enough, but are utterly forgettable and more filler. A particularly blatant example is when Yates is knocked out before getting his chance to suggest that they join forces, thus turning one scene into two, since he has to regain consciousness. The characters on Metebelis Three are far worse; they are apathetic at best and their costumes make them resemble a cross between hippies and porn stars (it's the moustaches, of course). They also have West Country accents, for reasons known only to Barry Letts. It doesn't help that several of them, including Gareth Hunt, are rather wooden, on top of which Jenny Laird's Neska is dreadfully acted. Production wise, the story is variable. As noted, the spiders look OK, but the costumes on Metebelis Three are terrible. Barry Letts gives in to his tendency to make too much use of CSO, as a result of which Metebelis Three looks diabolical, and there are annoying minor details which bother, me for example the spiders' surprisingly generous decision to provide nice comfy pillows for the humans cocooned in their larder. 

This being the last story of the Pertwee era, UNIT is rolled out for a bit of a reunion. This is at best indulgent, since both the Brigadier and Benton get nothing useful to do. Admittedly however, I do like the first scene between the Doctor and the Brigadier as they watch the show featuring Professor Clegg. The Brigadier's admiration for a belly dancer's muscular control is quite amusing and the scene is a pleasant reminder of the strength of the friendship that has developed between the Doctor and the Brigadier. After this however, the Brigadier reverts back to the status of a buffoon, bringing back unpleasant memories of 'The Three Doctors'. Using a one intelligent military leader as a means of explaining things to the audience is a mistake when it makes it painfully obvious that said military leader fails to understand the blindingly obvious. On the other hand, his presence at the Doctor's regeneration is more welcome, nicely rounding off the era that he helped to launch. Mind you, would a Brigadier really have such long hair? Benton gets even less to do, although his rather noble offer to look into the crystal for the Doctor since he is expendable and the Doctor isn't nicely demonstrates the high regard he has for UNIT's scientific advisor. More annoyingly for me personally, the mini-UNIT reunion results in the unwelcome return of Mike Yates. I've made no secret of my dislike for both Yates' character and Franklin's performance, but as I noted previously, 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' benefited both and it made a fine departure for the character. His return here is seemingly born out of a desire to redeem the character, but as I stated when I reviewed 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs', I'm uncomfortable that a man who was nearly a party to genocide is so easily forgiven by the Doctor. He adds almost nothing to the story here and his return is as pointless and indulgent as the chase sequence. 

Finally, there are the two regulars. Liz Sladen puts in a great performance as Sarah, especially when possessed by the Queen and when surrendering herself in Episode Three to protect Arak. Sarah works very well here, and gets some nice moments, including her scenes with Tommy (she is both kind and tolerant to the childlike Tommy for example, whereas Yates is not, and it beautifully highlights her compassionate side). Her distress over the Doctor's seeming death at the end of Episode Six demonstrates just how close they have become during Season Eleven, and she clearly pushed to her limit by the time Cho-je cheerfully materialises in the Doctor's lab. However, 'Planet of the Spiders' is Jon Pertwee's story. Putting in one last enthusiastic performance after his return to autopilot in 'The Monster of Peladon', Pertwee is at his best here. His obvious guilt over Clegg's death is well conveyed; his quiet, indeed awed, respect for K'anpo is tangible; and his scenes with the Great One are excellent. When the huge spider forces him to march in circle, Pertwee makes the Doctor seem genuinely afraid, which is a crucial aspect of the story. His final sacrifice is entirely fitting, as this most sanctimonious of the Doctors to date accepts the responsibility for his actions and ends the threat posed by the spiders at the cost of his own life. His regeneration scene is marvellous, as he tells Sarah "while there's life there's… hope…" before expiring. 

Watching Doctor Who in order from the start for the first time, I've been rather disappointed that after the highly consistent quality of the black and white stories, the Pertwee era represents, for me, the first weak era in the show's history. After the magnificent Season Seven, the percentage of poor stories increases once Letts and Dicks take over and whilst there are many fine Pertwee stories, there are no consistently fine Seasons from Season Eight onwards. Luckily however things soon improve considerably, as Jon Pertwee regenerates into Tom Baker and one of the series' finest producer/script-editor teams makes the show its own…

All things considered, I am not a fan of Terrance Dicks. Before the advent of video, when my only knowledge of old Doctor Who stories came from Target novelisations, I always preferred those written by Malcolm Hulke or (especially) Ian Marter, finding Dicks' to be overly simplistic and lacking in depth. His television stories are variable, the better ones being those on which he collaborated with another writer ('The War Games') or was heavily script edited ('The Brain of Morbius'). 'Robot' in some ways demonstrates his shortcomings as a writer, but on the other hand it succeeds rather well in introducing both a new Doctor and a new companion. 

Conceptually, 'Robot' makes a great deal of sense, in that it introduces the new Doctor by surrounding him with the trappings of the old; UNIT plays a significant role in 'Robot' and this highlights the differences between the performances of Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker. There is a tendency amongst Doctor Who fans to favour the Doctor they grew up with, which in my case is Peter Davison, but from the moment I started buying Doctor Who videos Tom Baker became, and remains, my favourite. He makes an immediate impression. Although I dislike things about the Pertwee era, Jon Pertwee's performance isn't one of them; after his dignified, almost establishment figure, Baker needed to establish himself as a distinct character, and he does so magnificently; he's incredibly eccentric from the start, with his brick-chopping, running on the spot, and ludicrous costumes, but he's also commanding and fiercely intelligent. Recovering from his regeneration far more quickly than his predecessor he is able to establish his character by the end of Episode One and the scene in which he examines the pulverized dandelion showcases his intellectual prowess. He deduces far more quickly than anybody else the nature of the threat facing them from only a handful of clues (the Brigadier suspects foreign powers or alien invaders) and is quick to realize Kettlewell's involvement. His clowning, rather like Troughton's, hides a lightening fast mind, but unlike Troughton he is possessed by a manic energy, as demonstrated by his entry into the Scientific Reform Society meeting (he creates the impression that he is a buffoon, only to quickly overcome the off-guard, erm, guard) and his brief clowning on stage during the meeting even wins over members of the audience despite the fact that he threatens their plans. His line "There's no point in being grown-up if you can't be childish sometimes?" perhaps best sums up this new Doctor, and of course his offering of a jelly baby to the distraught Sarah. 

The other new regular is Harry Sullivan, also making an immediate impression. Initially, he demonstrates his usefulness as a comic foil to Baker's Doctor, most notably during the scene in which the Doctor presses Harry's stethoscope to his chest and he hears two heartbeats; the expression on his face speaks volumes. Despite his initial buffoonery however, he also proves to be more than just an imbecile; he quickly accepts that the Doctor's eccentricity is going to leave him baffled, as he wry smile as he later presses the stethoscope to both sides of his own chest indicates. By the end of the story, he gets a great moment as he and the Doctor drive towards the robot in Bessie, and they joke about the fact that their problem seems to have grown. It suggests an easy friendship and establishes Harry and the Doctor almost as a double act. In general, Harry is hugely likeable; he's old fashioned almost to the point of chauvinism, but big-hearted and well meaning with it, and Ian Marter plays the part to perfection. He also gets to play James Bond, which he clearly relishes, even if he does get caught. 

The other regular also gets plenty to do in a story, which exploits her investigative skills very well. She infiltrates Think Tank and quickly deduces the significance of the patch of oil on the floor, and she stands up bravely to the icy Hilda Winters when Winters nastily offers a further demonstration of K1; Sarah is clearly terrified by the idea but accepts the invitation nonetheless. Most significantly of course, Sarah's compassion brings the robot to trust her, which allows her to save the Doctor's life at the start of Episode Three. Sladen quickly establishes a rapport with both Baker and Marter, establishing the dynamic of the new team. 

UNIT, returning for one of its final appearances, also does rather well out of the story. Although not back to the heights he reached during Season Seven, the Brigadier is nevertheless back on form to a degree, regaining some of the authority of his early appearances. As in his later appearances with Pertwee, the script makes him look slightly dim in order to allow the Doctor to explain the plot, but he's impressively commanding when in action in Episodes Three and Four, especially when dealing with Miss Winters; Courtney seems genuinely horrified by the situation in Episode Four as he pulls a gun on Winters whilst the countdown to nuclear war ticks away. And the newly promoted Mr. Benton also gets some great moments, most notably when he gives the Doctor the idea to use Kettlewell's metal virus and thus finally destroy the robot. 

Then we have the robot itself. The actual costume is very effective, ingeniously designed so that it manages to avoid looking like a man in a costume. The actual characterisation of the robot also works, largely due to its interaction with Sarah and its tortured persona. Artificial intelligences have become rather clichйd, and in Doctor Who we have already had a least two, in the megalomaniac forms of WOTAN and BOSS, but the emphasis here is rather different. Unfortunately, it is also here that the story starts to fall down; firstly after Kettlewell's death, the robot becomes just another ranting madman, albeit a rather novel one, and the final episode degenerates into a typical runaround after Hilda Winters is arrested by UNIT. Secondly, and most annoyingly, it astonishes that Terrance Dicks, a man who was part of the Doctor Who for the previous several years, would be so stupid as to incorporate into his script the Attack of the Fifty-Foot Robot, an idea that could only realistically be achieved by the dreaded CSO. This immediately results in an effects nightmare, as first parts of the CSO robot vanish as it grows larger, and then we are presented with a rag-doll Sarah. The toy tank at the end of Episode Three is bad enough, but the toy companion is unforgivable. I don't usually judge Doctor Who by its special effects, but the whole concept is unnecessary here, adding little to the plot since the robot is already virtually indestructible. Since Christopher Barry's direction elsewhere in the story is rather good (especially the scene in Episode One as the camera moves through the security system as the Brigadier describes it in voice-over), this hamstringing of the production is especially disappointing. 

The villains are rather mixed. Patricia Maynard's icy Miss Winters is very good, but her assistant Jellicoe is utterly forgettable. Moreover, the motives of the Scientific Reform Society are rather dubious; given that they want to make a better world, their obvious willingness to plunge it into nuclear holocaust beggars belief. In addition, that food store in the bunker must be well stocked; a global nuclear catastrophe would render the planet largely uninhabitable for decades at least. Kettlewell's motivation is even more ill conceived; leaving aside Edward Burnham's performance of a ludicrously stereotypical mad Professor, his attitude to the robot doesn't make much sense. Even when he is alone with the robot, he frets over the treatment inflicted by Winters and seems genuinely horrified by it, despite having provided the necessary technical know-how required to reprogram it and being party to his allies' actions. His eventually revelation as a villain seems to have crow-barred into the story simply to provide a plot twist, and most unbelievably of all, despite his apparently long association with Hilda Winters and his full knowledge of their intentions, he seems not to have considered the potential consequences of helping her to obtain the nuclear launch codes. The plot also falls down in regards to the disintegrator gun; as The Discontinuity Guide points out, the Scientific Reform Society goes to great lengths to obtain the gun, just to use it to open a safe. Whilst the script tries to compensate for this with the unlikely revelation that the safe is otherwise indestructible, the plot would have been better served had they simply had the robot force it open. 

Despite these drawbacks, 'Robot' succeeds as a introduction for Tom Baker and at four action-packed episodes is rather refreshing after Pertwee's last two bloated stories. More to the point, 'Robot' establishes the new TARDIS team and paves the way for arguable Season Twelve's finest story, as Doctor Who's greatest script-writer makes a welcome return…

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

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

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

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

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