This is the only Seventh Doctor-era story that seriously disappointed me. (I have seen all but Delta and the Bannermen.)

It claims to be an satirical and intellectual tale of a population being denied the right to feel sad, and to some extent it is; but, it comes off as fluff--not very intellectual, witty or funny, but just silly. Granted, the Kandy Man (an evil executioner who is literally made of candy) is /vaguely/ scary, esp. when s/he snarls, "Welcome to the Kandy Kitchen, gentlemen...I like my volunteers [to die] with...THMILES on their faces!", but most other characters are dismissably dull. And some of the things that happen during the 'revolution' against happiness make the viewer groan and say 'Riiiight'--such as the Doctor dousing the Kandy Man with lemonade, which apparently reacts with his candy-flesh so as to make his feet stick to the floor.

Another reason to dislike The Happiness Patrol is that unlike most Doctor Who stories, this is overtly and offensively politicized. What the political messages are is not relevant, but I will say that the reason I dumped Star Trek is that I had grown tired of Trek's arrogant and incessant attempts to indoctrinate its audience. Doctor Who has consistently avoided shoving lessons down the viewer's throat, but The Happiness Patrol does exactly that. Really, the only other such exception in Doctor Who is The Green Death, a laughable serial about capitalists who pollute the environment because they are bad, bad, bad.

Not a dream! Not a hoax! Not an imaginary story (except, aren't they all?)!

Today I shall tell you why Silver Nemesis is one of my top three Doctor Who stories, ever. No, really!

Bear in mind, I was probably all of seven or eight years old when I first saw this story (on PBS, before the Cleveland PBS station decided to follow the BBC's lead and exile the TARDIS from the airwaves, boo hiss). I watched Nemesis with a child's glee...and still do, even to this day. The Seventh Doctor and Ace are my favorite Doctor and companion, respectively and as a team, and here they're in top form. 

The Doctor is playing chess, manipulating Nazis, Cybermen, and Elizabethan nutters to to win the day...yet he does so with whimsy, and hardly a touch of angst. When he confounds the Cyberleader by preprogramming the Nemesis to 'understand, and disobey' its orders...to my younger incarnation this was an utterly brilliant twist, and still today it feels triumphant. It is the essense of the Doctor, I would argue; he's one of those rare heroes whose best weapons are their wits. We also see quite a bit of the so-called 'Cartmel master-plan' at work here, an attempt to restore some mystery to the Doctor. In addition to Lady Peinforte's babblings about Gallifrey and the Dark Time, we have the Doctor's own conversations with the Nemesis. The statue asks when she shall have her freedom...

"I told you when. Things aren't perfect yet..."

Combined with his actions in 'Remembrance of the Daleks' (which has a rather same-y plot, in the broad outlines, but I never noticed until it was pointed out, and frankly I still don't mind!), this Doctor seems to have a far grander plan for the universe than ever we'd imagined. The author Neil Gaiman, on his commentary track for the 'Neverwhere' DVD, talks about creating a character with the early Doctor Whos in mind...with a sense of danger about him, a sense of his own agenda. The seventh Doctor here brings that back in spades...yet without ever crossing the line into anti-hero territory. He remains firmly on the side of the angels, and his companions. He remains our lovable, magical, silly uncle. (I've always felt the New Adventures novels lost that balance, should not have crossed those lines, but that's a debate for another day.)

Ace, meanwhile, kicks some major cyber-bottom. Pinned down by three of the argent adversaries, she cleverly shoots one (with a gold coin) and ducks, so the other two miss her and kill each other...and okay, its the oldest trick in the book, but at the time it seemed novel to me!

Although many fans decry the Cybermen being turned into weaklings in Silver Nemesis, a poor joke, this is the very story which made me fall in love with them. I loved watching Ace racing about the warehouse, dodging laser blasts, and picking them off one by one with her 'catapult'. I loved their ridiculous cyber death screams. I've never really been particularly worried if they were 'scary' or not. In stories like 'Tomb' they're creepy, in Earthshock they're diabolical...but in Nemesis, they're just plain fun.

Then there's Fiona Walker, of "I, Claudius" fame, as the twisted Lady Peinforte, an Elizabethan sorceress who's managed to meddle with Time Lord technology, and even to learn their secrets, the Doctor's secrets (or so she claims). In less able hands she might have been a poor caricature, but Walker's performance is marvelously subtle, a delight to watch, and a worthy foe for the seventh Doctor. She is so carefully composed...utterly ladylike, despite her ruthlessness, even viciousness. Even in the raving phase of her madness, she is measured, her passion bubbling beneath the surface yet never boiling over the top. Her megalomaniacal musical number is hilarious, yet strangely pitiable. Her scenes in the limo with Mrs. Remington are beautifully played, and cleverly scripted...

"Now let me see, there WAS a Dorothea, she died in 16--"

21. 'Twas a slow poison..."

Lady Peinforte also displays an intriguing self-awareness, perhaps even pangs of conscience, when confused by Richard's insistence on saving her life, despite years of ill treatment. Richard, in turn, is another wonderful character. A simple archetype, the sinner with the heart of gold, but played with such feeling by Gerard Murphy that he transcends the trite. Instead he rings true, and his single-handed destruction of the Cyberleader is another of the story's triumphant moments; the good heart wins through.

I have always considered it one of Doctor Who's great strengths that it is a show for ALL ages, that it is as ridiculous as it is meaningful, as whimsical as it is thoughtful. In what other show would you find our heroes taking a break from their pursuit of the enemy to lie on a hillside for a 'jam session'? I would argue that few, if any, series have that breadth of imagination...that ability to take itself utterly and not at all seriously, all at once. In Doctor Who, as in life, there are times to philosophize, and times just to sit back and enjoy the ride. And so for me, Silver Nemesis really was a perfect anniversary story, a Who for all seasons, the quintessence...and whatever anyone says, I shall proclaim it proudly!

And for my next trick, a rave review of 'Timelash'...

You think I'm kidding.

With a new series about a 1940’s circus entitled ‘Carnivale’ currently airing in America at present, consistently gaining favourable ratings and reviews now seemed like a good opportunity prior to this series eventual arrival here in the UK some time in 2004 to re-evaluate a story possibly similar to a slight degree in style that was used to close out the twenty-fifth anniversary season.

After all these years this modestly titled story still has the same magical atmosphere conveyed by the characters, costumes, plot and incidental music that captivated me when it was originally transmitted. This might be surprising that it succeeds so well in its objective to entertain when you remember that the recording of this story was disrupted due to an asbestos scare at the BBC TV Centre resulting in the use of tents being erected in the Centre’s car park. Despite this, rather than detract from the production, I felt that the use of tents further added to the magic of the Circus interior.

It stars off harmlessly enough with the invitation to visit the Psychic Circus on the planet Segonax. The light hearted appeal of this tourist attraction conveyed by the ‘junk mail advertisement’ transmitted onto the TARDIS console screen by the little robotic device clearly wins over the Doctor. In particular he expresses an interest in entering the Circus talent contest though thankfully we are not treated, once again, to his spoon playing as featured in the largely forgettable (apart from enjoyable establishing seventh Doctor persona and costume change scenes) ‘Time and the Rani’. However, as is so often the case the reality is quite unlike the glossy advertising, something similar to the enjoyable ‘Paradise Towers’ story. Instead of lush green countryside they find on arrival that Segonax is an arid dustbowl.

Although, as we later discover there is a malevolent entity at work deep below where the Psychic Circus has pitched its tents I find that the stories characters can effectively be broken down into three distinct groups. The first group of three characters are clearly under the control of the entity of which appears to be, from what we learn during the story, the remaining members of the original eight people who initially ran the Circus presumably prior to their arrival on Segonax.

The towering figure of Ian Riddington’s Chief Clown decked out in silver fabriced clowns outfit, neck and wrist frills topped off with pointed hat is clearly the main protagonist of the story. Even in the early scenes with his clown finery covered by undertakers coat and hat, riding in the old fashioned hearse (equipped with the latest scanning equipment) the prevalent ghostly white face flecked with the occasional black brush strokes and traditional clown’s red lips convey a sense of cruel intent. It is therefore understandable that Ace finds clowns creepy if they are all like this person! Although this Chief Clown character conveys a public friendly, laughing persona, his real evil personality and objectives are never far from the surface. This is never more evident when he later temporarily halts Ace’s attempt to leave the Circus arena, hungry to know where she found the circular spiral patterned earring pinned to her jacket.

Ricco Ross’s Ringmaster character is a streetwise American (possibly with a New York accent) who puts in an entertaining rap act into his introducing acts. The third key member of the Circus team, Morgana (played by Deborah Manship) is clothed as a typical circus gypsy, telling fortunes through crystal ball readings and tarot cards in addition to supposedly selling tickets. Although they seem to have fairly equal status in the running of the circus it is clear that the Chief Clown sees himself superior to the these other two, especially bearing in mind that he is in charge of the Circus’s contingent of robot Clowns.

Our second group includes the rebellious young couple whom we see at the start of the story, frantically running across the barren sandy landscape of Segonax. Bellboy and Flowerchild are heading towards an ancient disused bus located some distance from the Psychic Circus. With it decked out in hippy graffiti it is puzzling to wonder about the history of this vehicle and why it is so far away from the site of the Circus. We later hear about former colleagues Peacepipe and Juniper Berry who had some connection to the Circus but had died under mysterious circumstances presumably in the Circus ring. As to why both Bellboy and Flowerchild had discovered what was going on and made the decision to escape that is something we can only guess at. It also becomes clear that each member of the Circus staff has a specific skill, for Bellboy this is being a skilled robotic engineer. Clearly his absence from the Circus cannot be tolerated hence the pursuit instigated by the Chief Clown utilising Flowerchild’s yellow and blue coloured kites which all bear a menacing eye motif in the centre. This symbol crops up throughout the story, in Morgana’s crystal ball, the artefact guarded by the robotic conductor at the bus and at the bottom of a deep well located under the site of the Circus.

On Bellboy’s eventual capture and return to the ring we learn that he has some resistance to whatever evil pervades the Circus ring which no doubt must have come as a frustratingly unexpected annoyance to the resident trio. Having remained resilient to the effects of the force in the ring he is taken away and tied up whilst they consider what next to do with the wayward, but clearly essential, robotic engineer.

The scenes where Bellboy (played well by Christopher Guard) is a nervous prisoner interacting with Ace are extremely memorable. The first scene opens with Ace, having been captured by the Chief Clown, being thrown into the darkened environment filled with many inert robotic clown figures in various states of dress. Then, suddenly they slowly start to move threateningly towards her. The tension of the scene is sustained for the sufficient amount of time before finally dissipated just as they are closing in for the kill by Bellboy. This leads to the conversation she has with the nervous robot maker which fills in most of the background to the Circus. Also memorable is the later scene where Bellboy, realising there is no escape and finding he has no alternative, sets his own creations on himself. As he dies by their hands the cruel upward tilt of the hand combined with a sick smile further enforces the Chief Clown’s cold unfeeling personality.

The third member of this rebel group, had however not been as fortunate in his attempts to escape. Now reduced to little more than a gibbering idiot the aptly named Deadbeat conveys the aspect of a drugged 60’s hippy fit only for sweeping up the Circus. We later learn that the malevolent force had, finding him to be the most dangerous of those working at the Circus, wiped his memory, stored it on an eye component and rather than destroy it had elected to store it on the bus, stationing a robotic conductor there to guard it. It is puzzling why they did not simply destroy this and leave him mindless but the reasoning behind this is something more to ponder over. Maybe this component had other latent powers and was constructed of a material impervious to attack. Regaining this persons memory and his real identity (an impressive character transformation for actor Chris Jury), that of Kingpin (possibly once the Circus manager) his role in relationship to the eye component was a key element in defeating the evil entity of the story.

The third group are the visiting tourists and they are certainly an interesting bunch with some having colourful backgrounds. This however cannot be attributed to the loud uncouth figure of ‘Nord the Vandal’. Wearing a helmet with large bat wings sitting astride a noisy three wheel yellow coloured motorbike equipped with Viking horns he portrays the archetypical ‘Hells Angel’ figure. Whilst, as we later discover, possessing great strength, his intelligence does not rate that highly. Gian Sammarco’s inclusion as an annoying fresh faced clean cut ‘Whizkid’ character could possibly be detrimental to the story as most casual viewers seem to, inaccurately, attribute most ardent Doctor Who fans to fit this persona. However in the context of the story it seems suitable as the Psychic Circus had gained quite a favourable reputation up to this point. Additionally his inclusion was fairly brief and there is possibly a sense of satisfaction to viewers when he later meets his end in the circus ring.

The pairing of intergalactic explorer Captain Cook and his travelling companion, the mysterious Mags were the most welcome characters from this story. Noted actor T.P. McKenna makes a welcome appearance as the well travelled figure decked out in pith helmet, khaki shirt and shorts who seems, in my opinion, to have an almost unhealthy addiction to drinking tea. As a ‘crushing bore’, relating tales of his many and varied explorations he also has a keen interest in his own survival over all others. His companion Mags (played by comedy actress Jessica Martin) has a much more checked and mysterious past. Appearing humanoid in appearance, her long black hair contains faint streaks of green and, wearing a black vamp-type outfit, she appears ill at ease, which later we find, is with good reason. Exposure to the moonlight causes her to transform into an uncontrollable snarling beast complete with claws and fangs. Most notably this is used by the Captain as a way of attacking the Doctor later in the story. Apparently, for some reason, the Captain rescued Mags from the planet Volpana where she was about to be shot, with a silver bullet, by the locals.

When the Doctor and Ace do eventually make their way up to the Circus (a classic establishing shot of the large dark blue and red tented structure set against a light coloured empty sky broken only by a large giant ringed planet) they find only three individuals in the stalls sitting around the main circus ring. These figures, masquerading as a typical family group (Mother, Father and Child) are infact manifestations of the evil that is controlling the circus.

Having, as it were, eventually got to the bottom of things in the fourth episode, through an imaginative temporal corridor the Doctor emerges into a sandy covered ring. As he gets to his feet, turning away from the high walled surround, he looks up and proclaims without any sense of surprise ‘The Gods of Ragnarok’ on seeing the three stone figures seated in a raised area similar to that which might be found in a Roman arena to house the ruling classes who watched Gladiatorial combat. It is here that these beings instruct him to entertain them, to which he replies ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet’ which seemed, I felt, rather reminiscent of the slightly overweight American comic W.C. Fields. Now Sylvester McCoy, the consummate entertainer, seems well suited to performing the magic tricks that blend seamlessly from one to the other. It brings to mind his brief crooning in this season’s earlier, fairly average ‘Happiness Patrol’ story. With a casual manner he drifts through seemingly simple rope tricks, rope into circular container, candle lit by second hand, sets light to circular pan, places lid to extinguish fire, opens again to find snake, turns snake into umbrella before using said umbrella to shield himself from the rain instigated by the Ragnarok Gods.

There is one character who does not fit into the three distinct groups whom I haven’t mentioned yet but her brief performance although welcome is not central to the plot. As a wandering native Stallslady well known comedy actress Peggy Mount conveys the locals resentment of the Circus admirably. Her contempt for the Circus people and any tourists planning to visit the attraction is conveyed well. Even the Doctor has a tough challenge on his hands in pacifying her distain towards himself and Ace despite some of the amount of clearly foul produce which she is attempting to sell from the back of her horse pulled stall.

Another classic moment of the story that I recall is when, with the Ragnarok Gods ultimately defeated and the Circus about to blow up, McCoy calmly and resolutely walks away from the explosion. The manner of his measured departure from the scene coupled with his use of his question mark umbrella as a walking stick is certainly reminiscent of William Hartnell which can only be in McCoy and the series’ favour at a time when the shows future was far from certain. Obviously each actor who comes takes the part of the Doctor brings something to the part as well as drawing on previous incarnations. Although I agree with something ‘the Brigadier’ said (‘Splendid fellows, all of them’) with Sylvester you can certainly see a closer similarity to the late, great, Patrick Troughton without whose impressive relaunch of the series in 1966 would have meant the series might have concluded way back then.

It certainly seems that the Circus is gaining a resurgence of interest at the moment. I’ve already made a passing mention to the ‘Carnivale’ series currently airing at the moment, but let us not forget pop/rock group Debbie Harry’s Blonde featured a circus in their rather bizarre video for their recent song ‘Good Boys’. Personally the Circus is not really my entertainment taste, the cruelty to animals aspect I guess but of course there are ‘animal free’ circus but it all seems a rather low tec form of entertainment in this twenty-first century. Having said that ‘The Greatest Show In The Galaxy’ is an entertaining spin on this form of live entertainment with an alien planet/lifeform twist which certainly works in its favour. At the core of this story is an engaging plot told well and I can certainly heartily recommend it for anyone looking for an enjoyable form of escapist cult television entertainment.

Daleks should be seen, but not heard. It’s the voice. It is truly atrocious. I suppose it is ok for the odd ‘exterminate’, but just imagine a half hour lecture on existential philosophy? So we were really lucky with this little sucker (or should that be plunger) because we got to see just the right amount of Daleks in a really interesting story.

This episode was another of those ‘commemorative’ milestone stories that they drag out every so often, sort of like the James Bond film – ‘Die Another Day’ – full of homage to its own history. If you have seen ‘Die Another Day’ you will also know that this concept can go horribly wrong. You can almost see the producers sitting around after a few wines saying to themselves ‘why do we need to waste money on scriptwriters when we can just ignore the plot and pinch the concepts from old material’?

Fortunately they didn’t do that one here. It’s a well written story. The plot for this story is all merely part of Sylvester McCoy’s darker more manipulative Doctor’s master plan for keeping the universe safe from nasty types such as the Daleks. Of course the Doctor’s well laid plans go a bit awry when he realises that there are not one, but two Dalek factions roaming around greater London. How no one noticed a bunch of very peculiar aliens proclaiming universe domination in such a heavily populated city as London I don’t know – and have you ever heard a Dalek whisper?

I hope I am not giving too much away here, but the Doctor does in fact defeat the Daleks. He actually kills one off simply by chatting to it – a more manipulative Doctor with secret powers or a lousy conversationalist? You decide. Some people like it, some don’t, but it does add a little mystery. This story continues the theme that implies there is something to the Doctor that we don’t know. He even tells Davros that he is much more than ‘just another Time Lord’.

The best part of this story is that the Daleks look like they have all been spending far too much time down the pub. Apparently they redesigned the Daleks so they now ran on big balls or some such and they wobble, quite a bit, in fact an awful lot. However you can amuse yourself for hours on end imagining a group of rowdy Daleks wobbling home from the pub on a Friday night singing ‘we are not defeated, only delayed…. One day we will conquer and you will be our slaves’, then perhaps stopping to get a curry. 

On this note, if you can, get the DVD. It has a wonderful commentary from Sylvester McCoy and Sophie Aldred. It is refreshing to know that while you think the actors are emoting their hearts out they are actually trying not to laugh at drunken Daleks and such.

This story is also historic as it is the historic episode where it is revealed that Daleks do not need wheel chair access. They can climb stairs.

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.

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.