Season Seven is one of my favourite seasons in Doctor Who’s entire history. This is probably clear from my glowing reviews of ‘Spearhead From Space’, ‘Doctor Who and the Silurians’ and ‘The Ambassadors of Death’. Despite the high quality of those three stories however, they are still, incredibly, surpassed for a season finale, which is in my opinion the single greatest Doctor Who story of the Pertwee era. 

‘Inferno’ is of course best known for the parallel universe plotline, which I’ll come to shortly. However, the first two episodes, before the Doctor makes his trip sideways in time, are more than captivating enough in their own right. There is a sense of doom throughout this story right from the very beginning, which is almost palpable. This is due largely to the direction and the chilling incidental music, which continues to be a notable feature of the era. The location work of the installation is very moodily shot, and is nicely complemented by the tension in the studio scenes, as the thoroughly unpleasant Professor Stahlman clashes personalities with those around him, his obsession with his project his only concern. The appearance of the green slime, in ominous close-up shot, form output pipe two signals a homegrown menace straight out of Doomwatch, and it is immediately obvious that whatever it is it doesn’t bode well. The transformation of Slocum into a Primord confirms this. Despite the increasingly silly appearance of the Primords in later episodes, the partially transformed victims of the slime are much more successful; Slocum’s ghastly complexion here is rather effective, as he utters chilling snarls from between spittle-flecked clenched jaws. The effectiveness of these creatures lies in what they represent; they are unrelentingly aggressive, mindless brutes, their strength enhanced by their transformation, oblivious to pain, and almost bullet-proof. Not only that, but their touch brings transformation into one of their number, an immediate sentence of loss of intelligence and descent into savagery. Even in later episodes, when their full transformation is achieved via rather poor “werewolf” make-up, the storyline and direction manage to paper over their visual shortcomings and emphasize how dangerous they are rather than how ridiculous they look. 

The parallel universe aspect of the story works on several levels. Firstly of course, it is fascinating to see dark reflections of the Brigadier and Liz, as the Doctor finds himself trapped in a fascist version of Britain. Caroline John gets to show off her acting skills, presenting a cold version of her usual character who gradually comes to trust the Doctor in the face of certain death, and ultimately shows a noble side, using her last few hours of life to help the Doctor save himself and the Earth of his universe. Nicholas Courtney however, positively steals the show. When one actor is usually only seen playing the same part, it is difficult to forget that they can in fact play other roles; the Brigade-Leader may be a twisted version of the Brigadier, but they are worlds apart in more ways than one. The Brigade-Leader is also a soldier, but he is a brutal, sadistic bully, taking obvious pleasure in interrogating the Doctor and always ready to shoot anyone who stands in his way. More than that, he is ultimately exposed as a coward, concerned purely with his own survival, a fact that is nicely emphasized by comparison with Section Leader Shaw, Greg Sutton, and Doctor Williams, towards the end of episode six. It has been suggested that it is after seeing how his friend could have been, that the Doctor’s friendship with the Brigadier, strained by the events of ‘Doctor Who and the Silurians’ earlier in the season, becomes really strong. This certainly seems to be the case. 

Of course, the real genius of the parallel universe plotline is that it allows us to see what happens when the Doctor loses. From the beginning of episode five, when the Doctor announces that it is too late to stop the forces that have been unleashed, we know that he isn’t joking; this is not “our” Earth, but a different one, and as such we don’t know, as we usually do, that the Doctor will find someway to save it. Episodes five and six are amongst the most relentless and dramatic episodes of the entire series, as carnage is unleashed and the world starts to die. The acting is superb, as each character realizes that they are doomed, and the direction reflects this, the fiery sky outside casting a deathly pall over events. The model shot explosions are well realized, and radio reports of widespread destruction caused by earthquakes give a real sense of widespread destruction. The cliffhanger to episode six is horrifying, and as the episode seven reprise fades away, the viewer is left with the chilling realization that the parallel Earth is beyond help. This results in a marvellous final episode as the Doctor frantically tries to make sure that same fate does not befall “his” Earth.

Pertwee is at his finest here, giving a powerful, intense performance. My favourite moment is when he yells out “It’s the sound of the planet screaming out its rage”. After the dramatic climax, during which the Doctor literally saves the world, the final scene gently calms things down, reaffirming the Doctor’s friendship with the Brigadier right at the end, and also his relationship with Liz, ironically the last time that it is seen on screen. The guest cast is almost universally excellent, with particular mention worthy of Olaf Pooley as Professor Stahlman, and Christopher Benjamin as Sir Keith Gold. I must also mention John Levene; this is the first time Benton makes a real impact in a Doctor Who story, following his debut in ‘The Invasion’ in the previous season. Considering how likeable the character is, Levene’s performance as the thuggish Platoon Under Leader Benton is just as good as Nicholas Courtney’s as the Brigade-Leader. Overall, ‘Inferno’ is a triumphant end to a fine season, and a highlight of the era. My only criticism is that, due to behind the scenes decisions by the production team, Liz never gets a proper leaving scene outside of the novels.

Although Season 19 is, without a doubt, a very criticized season due to a new young Doctor played by the extremely talented Peter Davison and young companions, Castrovalva is one of those stories that is very enjoyable and not a dark story, like some of Tom Baker's episodes were. The Master returns in this story, evil as usual, and trying to destroy the Doctor, like he always tried before; although he was the reason why the Fourth Doctor regenerated.

Peter Davison portrays all the previous doctors marvelously, especially the Second Doctor. Tegan is actually very mild-mannered in this story, and is written quite well. Adric may seem like he is against the Doctor by setting those traps on the TARDIS, but it is against his will, because it is actually the Master's doing, not his. Nyssa is well written as well, but she tends to show off her knowledge quite a bit. 

When seen, Castrovalva seems like a well-ordered place, and also seems like an actual place as well. But yet again, the Master has something to do with this...he built it using Adrics mathematical skills. 

The Doctor finally regains some of his wits towards the end of Part Three and is able to fight the Master and save Adric. Shardivan gives up his life by helping the Doctor by shattering the web the Master created so that the Doctor is able to jump in and grab Adric. Castrovalva, without the web, falls apart and at the end of the story, we see the Master is trapped...or is he?

This story had good acting by all, and the storyline is very good for Peter Davison's first story as the Doctor. It takes a lot of good acting and skill to replace Tom Baker, but Peter Davison did a wonderful job and he truly deserves the credit which few people do not give him.

After the dramatic demise of the fourth doctor at the Pharos project on earth, there was much speculation on what his replacement would be like and an agonisingly long time in which to do so. Not since the recent abrupt ending of Blake's 7 had a tv show been so exciting. Castrovalva came along, finally, and it exceeded all my expectations by being so wonderfully different from any other dw show I'd previously seen.

The fourth doctor had been a part of my life for so long that he had seemed virtually indestructible. For seven long years it had been jelly babies, scarves and toothy grins, and we still weren't tired of it! But Peter Davison was everything the fourth doctor was not - polite, uncertain about things, generally befuddled, his voice tended to go a bit high when stressed out and I think he used to wag a finger at recalcitrant monsters. In short, a complete change of character and a welcome one. The 1980's were just starting, so why not start them with a new doctor utterly unlike the old one? Splendid! The programme was on a completely new track and I for one was captivated.

The Master came across brilliantly as well in this story, even with Anthony Ainley playing him. He wasn't for once into taking over the universe, there wasn't a doomsday machine or a Chronovore waiting on Castrovalva for him; he purely and simply wanted to destroy the Doctor. Nothing else. It was a marvellous idea, focusing his character on revenge and nothing more. And from Terror of the Autons onwards, the Master had a lot to feel vengeful about.

I loved the simple setting of the town, the cast, the forest scenes, the fact that almost half this story actually takes place within the Tardis itself (another innovative idea not used for some considerable time) and no, at the time I had no idea of the Portreve's real identity. I know it looks bloody obvious now, seeing the thing on video again. So this, the first fifth Doctor story, became my favourite one for a long time, even beating Earthshock as it was so groundbreaking. Brilliant!

If you want to see a good Dalek story, don't bother watching Death To The Daleks. If, however, you want to see a good example of a late-era Jon Pertwee story, then Death To The Daleks is a good, underrated, one to watch.

Death To The Daleks features one of my favourite opening episodes of a Doctor Who story. You would hardly guess that Elisabeth Sladen is a relative newcomer, as she is already the Sarah Jane Smith that we know and love, full of fun and enthusiasm ("I can float anywhere!"), and the 'death' of the TARDIS is very atmospheric and mysterious. The planet Exxilon is clearly yet another quarry, but the murky fogginess gives it a creepy, dangerous feel, compounded by the sudden murder of an astronaut. The outdoor scenes are also well integrated with the studio scenes, as Sarah fends off a mysterious cowled attacker and wanders off to discover the Doctor's oil lamp covered in blood. It really is a sinister introduction.

Death To The Daleks shares many qualities with the following season's Revenge Of The Cybermen. Both stories feature the same director and composer, and both see the series' two most indomitable regular villains rendered impotent by a planet's forces. In the case of Death To The Daleks, the forbidden city's beacon has drained the Daleks of their weaponry power (although not their ability to move, one of those inconsistencies it's polite to gloss over when considering a Doctor Who serial!). Potentially, this could render the Daleks pathetic – something viewers would become used to in successive Dalek stories, and a tradition introduced in The Chase – but we see the Daleks having to rely on their wits and resources, enslaving the astronauts and the Exxilons and creating new guns. Their improvised weaponry leads to a great moment where we see Daleks performing target practise on model police boxes, which just goes to show how much the Doctor has become their public enemy number one!

Another similarity with the later Revenge Of The Cybermen is the use of an isolated team of humans to represent the various qualities of humanity. In Revenge, the loose cannon was the icy Kellman, here it is Galloway who is the dark horse – from the start he is pitched as the troublemaker of the set, resembling nothing so much as the kind of left-wing trade union leaders common in the British newspapers of the time; which makes his ultimate sacrifice all the more striking when he stays on board the rigged Dalek saucer. Galloway is the most outstanding of the humans, as the rest are just so bland, particularly Jill Tarrant (Terry Nation using one of his favourite surnames again) who must share the prize for 'wettest female' with Della in Nightmare Of Eden!

One of the most-mentioned aspects of this story is the 'root' that defends the city and the catacombs. Admittedly it is rather comical – one of my friends-in-Who described is a 'metal cock' – but it's explosive attack on a Dalek by the parrinium mine is spectacular, and the Doctor's commentary on its battle with the Daleks is highly amusing. "A palpable hit!"

One of the other highlights of Death To The Daleks is the Exxilon civilisation. The idea of an advanced civilisation retreating to primitivism after being expelled from their city is an interesting one, and they are quite creepy with their cowls and skeletal faces. The scenes of Sarah about to be ritually sacrificed are almost like a fast-forward to the 'gothic horror' of The Brain Of Morbius – the hypnotic chanting, Carey Blyton's drone-like soundtrack and the swathes of incense combine to create a hallucinogenic effect.

With Sarah separated from the Doctor for much of the story, we are given a superb stand-in companion in the form of Bellal, an Exxilon who does not share his people's techno-fear. Bellal is a charming, curious character that I have always found intriguing – Arnold Yarrow conveys much character with his voice and movements, and he is a very noble character. The detail on his skin that causes it to glimmer is also a nice effect. It would have been good to see Bellal developed more, and even possibly as a companion, although he might have become limited. Nevertheless, he is a very memorable character.

It would be foolish of me not to admit that Death To The Daleks does not have more than its fair share of flaws. The Daleks are particularly ill served by their appearance in this story. Their silver and black makeover looks fantastic, and would have brightened up Destiny Of The Daleks no end, but their casings seem to have been neglected since their last appearance – their shoulder slats are wonky, and their domes wobble alarmingly. In their favour their voices are very good, and the device of showing scenes from their eyepieces' point of view is a good one, although basic in its realisation.

The Daleks' spaceship is one of the crappest we have seen in the series, even worse than the 'flying lampshades' in their previous appearance, Planet Of The Daleks. Clearly, Daleks do not go in for aesthetics, and they still seem keen on using those 'pie chart' dials from The Chase.

Carey Blyton's score is also a problem. As mentioned before, the sound design during the sacrifice creates a good atmosphere, and there are some sinister musical motifs during the first episode, but the comedy fanfare he employs for the Daleks from their first appearance does much to diminish their impact – if I'm not mistaken, this annoying tune was also used in Doctor Who And The Silurians.

A bit more explanation as to the circumstances of the Exxilons' ejection from the intelligent city would be welcome, and indeed why it tries to keep certain people out. Its puzzles are rudimentary to say the least, and hardly a test of intelligence. Clearly someone at the BBC liked the idea, as Episodes Three and Four are not unlike a particularly boring edition of the early '80s BBC kids show "The Adventure Game" and elements of the 'quest' were recycled in "Pyramids Of Mars" (as admitted by Sarah Jane's continuity-gaffe comment in that particular serial) and "The Five Doctors". The cliffhanger to Episode Three is often pointed out as being particularly undramatic, but in all fairness, this was not originally conceived as the cliffhanger. Nevertheless, the journey to the centre of the city does give rise to two memorable images in the serial – no, not the rather poor 'psychedelic' mind battle with the giveaway shot of Pertwee facing a mirror to create the distortion effect; but the revelation of the figure studying the Doctor and Bellal's movements being a corpse, and the appearance of the city's rather gruesome looking 'antibodies' materialising as the Doctor attempts to affect a 'mental breakdown' on the city's mind.

Despite these flaws, Death To The Daleks is a rather charming story, which makes for undemanding fun on a Sunday afternoon. Pertwee is as masterful as ever, Lis Sladen is as good as ever, Bellal is different, Galloway is a TUC-style rogue, Jill Tarrant is hilariously ineffectual, and the hysteria-ridden metallic Daleks look great, wobbly heads notwithstanding. Self-deluding fans often talk of classics such as The Caves Of Androzani, The Talons Of Weng-Chiang but it is stories such as Death To The Daleks that more accurately sum up 'meat and two veg' typical Doctor Who fare, with the aforementioned epics as the rare exceptions, and as such is to be enjoyed.

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!! Oh, whatever.

Oh dearie dearie me. They really made a mess of this story, didn't they? 

What could have been a great addition to the Doctor Who universe (the insane Borad, the kinda-cool-but-not-really-seen Bandrils, the Karfelons in their citadel) was reduced to mush by a lousy script, terrible sets and lousy special effects.

The story in itself is really rather good: The Doctor and Peri return to a planet which the Doctor has visited before, and get mixed up in the local politics. A common enough premise, certainly, but it had promise: The manipulative and secretive Borad, dictator of Karfelon; the rebels in every corner, trying to free their people; the powerless leaders; the sheer political intrigue which comes with such a situation. Add an unexpected almost-companion in the form of H.G. Wells (I'm serious), and you have a recipe for one memorable story.

Then why does it suck so much? I'll explain.

First off, the sets and costumes. Why, why, WHY did they make everything bright and sunny? It's a dark season, no doubts about it... so this story stands out simply for that. Add the fact that nothing shines (admittedly a story point, but hell on the eyes) and you're wanting to scream. The costumes are honestly terrible, which makes Peri, the Doctor, Vina and Herbert (Wells, yeah?) stand out even more. You can tell someone's political affiliation simply by the color of their clothes!!! Shoot me!

Next, script. My god, what an utter dud. What a total let-down. This could have been saved. But nope - it got sent out without proper revision, which shows. All the best lines go to Colin Baker, who performs admirably considering the utter crap he is given, and John Chandler, who simply makes Herbert shine. The single best scene in this story, the one part which I watch over and over again, is in the final episode, with an absolutely sterling scene in the TARDIS which lasts for almost 8 minutes, where Herbert drives the Doctor to the edge of violence. I get the impression that the entire story was just an excuse for this ONE SCENE. God......

Acting...... a mixed bag here... As I've said, Baker and Chandler give amazing performances, and Bryant is nicely grumpy in this one... much of the supporting cast is wooden, forgettable or both... but my utter loathing is aimed at Vina, (Jeananne Cassidy) who delivers each and every SINGLE LINE like someone in High School who got roped in because nobody else could remember the lines. Yuck. Shoot me now.

Much of the remainder is marred by simple lack of detail... but still, this story borders on forgettable.

But watch it anyway. Just to see Colin Baker look like he's about to punch out John Chandler. Classic!

There is something incredibly charming about stories like The Twin Dilemma - like old 1950s B-movies, where the monsters are cheesy, and the plots laughable, certain Doctor Who stories work, and are incredible watchable, because they just possess a charm and vitality which certain SF series, no matter how well-produced, will never possess. The Twin Dilemma possesses this charm, in my opinion, and as an added bonus, the primary performances in are really quite something too. 

Colin Baker's first time on screen as The Doctor has been described as 'misjudged', and at the time it may well have been. After the self-sacrifice of the magnificent Caves of Androzani, you would not need to apologize if you thought to yourself: who is this unbelievably arrogant, obnoxious person calling himself the Doctor, yet exhibiting none of the qualities that have become associated with 'The Doctor'... however, watching it now, it is a masterstroke to play the Doctor this way. It challenges what we know about the character, and places him into a far more alien position. Yes, it also alienates the viewer to a large extent (we sympathize with Peri, and find the Doctor very difficult to 'like' in any way), but by doing that the writers can prepare and plan for the moment when the Doctor re-enters our sympathies, and becomes our friend again - by having it that we dislike him for a time (yet know deep down that he is a 'hero'), the strength of our sympathy for him later will be all the stronger. And then, when we like him again, when he is our true hero again, the hints of the alien, and the strange will remain. There is nothing misjudged about this Doctor - it was simply that after the Fifth Doctor, this mad, bad Sixth Doctor felt utterly different. A Doctor, if he is to work, must be both alien and human. 

And there are constant hints in the characterization in The Twin Dilemma of what we like about the Doctor: his adamant claim to want to escape, his heroic saving of a life, his unceasing desire to save the world. The Doctor we know and love is there, but the characterization is underscored by an impatience to hang around (the scene when the police man gets trapped in the gastropod 'glue' is inspired and hilarious - the Doctor provides *absolutely no help whatsoever* while he struggles to free himself, and eventually just walks off!), a lack of selflessness, and a generally worrying change of character... But this side to the Doctor is not unknown. The Third Doctor could be arrogant, the First Doctor could be impatient, the Fourth Doctor was frequently high-minded... There are flashes of the past in this uncomfortable and unfamiliar incarnation of the Doctor. What a brave, wild thing to do for his first story. Colin Baker, and everyone on the crew, must have thought the writers were nuts. Place a crazed and mad Doctor into a basic, un-radical, but highly romp-ish pulp SF plot (good secondary work from Mestor)... light blue touch-paper... stand back... see what happens... Yes, the story is nothing special: as a story, a plot, a string of events... But as an experiment in character, the story is in inspiration. The plot is simply a side-show, a means to an end: the writers want to show us the nutter who is now the Doctor. 

I am now, more than ever, eagerly awaiting some Sixth Doctor novels. There is, and always has been, a huge amount of potential in the character.