After weeks of waiting and anticipation we finally see the Daleks back on screen, in an episode that not only is the best in the 2005 series so far, but also one of the greatest Doctor Who stories of all time.

The beginning of the episode salutes the classic series wonderfully, with a rather touching scene containing some superb dialogue from the Doctor regarding the Cybermen. It's well executed and well written and is a fantastic teaser for the main episode.

The plot execution is pacey and interesting, but the moment everyone has been waiting for is certainly a scene to behold. The confrontation between the Doctor and the Dalek is fantastic. We finally get some more insight into the great 'Time Wars' and learn of the Daleks' involvement. The Doctor seems to be unable to control himself, as his mood swings do begin to get slightly questionable by the end of the scene although this is understandable considering the characters current state of mind.

The prospect of having the Doctor lashing out and attempting the Dalek is a wonderful piece of drama, and a bit of a shock to the viewer considering the Doctor's passiveness towards violence. The final confrontation between the two foes is also quite interesting, and we see how Rose has something of an influence on the Doctor in the way of bringing him back down to Earth.

The CGI of the episode id good, although the CGI Dalek goes seem somewhat plainer and simpler than the actual model so there is detraction. The death of the Dalek is very interesting as we finally find out what those bumps are for. However, the death is very smooth and in retrospect, a bit of a let down as it seems slightly anti climactic (there could have been an explosion at least)

The characterisation of the Dalek is a daring leap into the 21st Century. We're not used to the Daleks speaking dialogue that is typically 'human', but then again it does possess Rose's DNA and so would take on some of her characteristics. In all, the characterisation is good although a little OTT at times 'I AM FRIGH-TENED'

Bruno Langley has a somewhat small role in the episode but it will be interesting to see how and if he develops in the next episode. The last scene is good but Langley just doesn't seem to be on top acting form in his very last few lines, a little too whiney for the moment.

The teaser trailer for the next episode is good, but does seem to be a bit of a muddle, with there being no plot exposition to it when compared with others. The Daleks episode in all is a fantastic one and a dead cert at being a ratings phenomenon.

‘Death to the Daleks’ hasn’t got the best reputation. ‘The Discontinuity Guide’ pans it outright, and in ‘Pocket Essentials’ Mark Campbell damns it with faint praise, saying, “There really is little to say about this story, except that it is rather dull.” Add to these ominous opinions the knowledge that the Daleks were shoehorned into this story at the last minute, in a blatant ratings ploy, and we really can’t approach it with much hope.

It is quite surprising, then, that ‘Death to the Daleks’ turns out to be one of the best ever Dalek stories, and also one of the most entertaining stories from the Pertwee years. Terry Nation’s script, while unambitious, is straightforward and economical, and its various character groupings (space marines, Daleks, Exxilons, mutants) are well-characterized and effectively played off each other. But the real star of the show, unusually for ‘Doctor Who,’ is the direction. Michael Briant keeps this story moving at a brisk pace, and keeps the CSO, so often overused in the Pertwee days, to a merciful minimum. (I’ll take a 1970s wobbly-set story over a 1970s psychedelic-FX one any day.) Of course there are still inventive visual ideas – the ‘Dalek’s-eye view’ camera angle, while obviously thrown together on the cheap, is still effective, especially when the Daleks are under attack – and Briant may be the *only* ‘Doctor Who’ director to successfully elicit a kind of sly comedy from the Daleks. I love the black humor when the Daleks test out their new pellet guns on the Exxilons; the Exxilons may die instantly, and in hideous pain, but it’s still not quite good enough for the Daleks, who coldly comment, “PRIMITIVE WEAPONS, MODERATELY EFFICIENT.” And when the Dalek is destroyed by the ‘root’ at the lake, the reactions of the Daleks on the beach may be wordless, but they are as expressive as any depiction of the creatures in series history. (The thought expressed seems to be something along the lines of “HOLY SHIT!!! DID YOU SEE THAT???” A masterful accomplishment!)

Of this story, ‘The Discontinuity Guide’ says that “there really doesn’t seem any reason to have the Daleks in it at all.” I must respectfully but forcefully disagree; in fact, I would argue the success of the story absolutely hinges on their inclusion. Certainly, the Doctor would still have been able to destroy the ancient Exxilon city without them, but it should be pointed out that the Daleks are actually the ones who overcome the mysterious power drain, well before he makes it out of the city (albeit through brute force rather than intelligence). And not only do they make the Doctor’s adventures in the mazelike city somewhat redundant, they also *rescue* him on several occasions, however accidentally! Indeed, the Daleks here are (unusually) shown to be masters of their environment; despite having no weapons or bargaining power, they immediately take control of their situation, conning the humans, negotiating with the Exxilons to ensure exclusive rights to the parrinium, and of course developing new guns in extremely short order. They are presented as scheming and intelligent, scientific in their methods and ruthless in the extreme. And they are even made almost, *almost* sympathetic – there’s a kind of horrifying pathos when the unarmed Dalek charges the group of Exxilons shrieking “EXTERMINATE!”; it’s pitifully obvious that it’s the only thing the big bully knows how to do. And the ‘I HAVE FAILED! – SELF-DESTRUCT!” scene, while often ridiculed by fans, seems completely in character here – the Daleks, despite their reputation for rational behavior in the program’s later years, are extremely emotional creatures, psychotic and driven by a totally *irrational* hatred for the world and sense of their own superiority. Is it any wonder that one should have a nervous breakdown upon failure?

Aesthetically, the physical Dalek machines are good here too. The new paint job looks nice, and they seem to move faster and more fluidly here than they do in many later stories. The unusual decision to keep them in near-constant motion – moving back and forth as if to generate electricity through friction, and swiveling their eyestalks restlessly – makes them seem dangerous and alive, and not nearly as static and tank-like as they have so often appeared in the series. (If only the production team didn’t have to use that damned dummy casing in Episode One . . . but I suppose you can’t have everything.) They speak faster, too, and Michael Wisher’s voice characterizations, while they may not match the rawness and sheer power of Roy Skelton’s, project a cold intelligence and impatience that Skelton usually cannot match. (I remember reading someone describe the Dalek voices in this story as ‘bitchy,’ and they really are – Wisher’s “YOUR ADVICE IS NOT REQUIRED!” and the five-times-repeated “YOU WILL OBEY!” make it easy to see how frustrating and exhausting cooperating with Daleks would be.)

Some of the major faults pointed out by this story’s detractors also seem to me to be severely exaggerated. The Earth marines are frequently targeted for bad acting, but I fail to see how they’re much worse than the bulk of DW supporting casts over the series’ history, and I would go so far as to say Duncan Lamont is excellent, completely believable as the amoral (rather than evil) Galloway. And I’ll even go out on a limb and say that I think Carey Blyton’s saxophone score works beautifully. I’ll say up front that I’m not a huge fan of typical ‘Doctor Who’ music; Dudley Simpson’s scores are sometimes very effective, true, but they’re also sometimes so understated and tuneless that there might as well not be any music at all. Blyton’s ‘Death to the Daleks’ score is different – the music almost takes on the role of the storyteller. Yes, the tootling ‘Dalek March’ is a (major) misstep, but overall the music does everything an incidental score should – building tension in the suspense scenes, and setting the ethereal tone in the ones involving the giant city. (And the muttering, howling Exxilon chorus in the sacrifice scenes is simply terrifying.)

As for the other elements, both the regulars come off well (especially Lis Sladen), and Arnold Yarrow’s Bellal is a truly wonderful little figure, kind of a better fleshed out take on Wester, the friendly alien from the previous Dalek story. The gravel-pit locations for once work perfectly, giving the impression of a blasted landscape perfectly matched with the ruined civilization described in the script. Perhaps the weakest element is the ‘intelligence’ tests the Doctor and Bellal face in the city, which really are so elementary as to be obnoxious. But all in all ‘Death to the Daleks’ is a fine story, much better than is commonly thought.

Like ‘City of Death,’ ‘The Talons of Weng-Chiang’ represents a kind of series zenith for lots of Doctor Who fans; for many, it’s simply The Best Story Ever, with The Best Doctor Ever, from The Best Production Era Ever, etc., etc. Now, I don’t intend to make hamburger out of this sacred cow, exactly, but I will perhaps take an unflinching look at it, udders and all.

The most usual objection to be made against the story, when any objection is made at all, is that it is racist. The fan response to this tends to be a combination of “It’s not racist, it’s mocking the Victorians’ racism!” and “Well, things were different in the 1970s.” The second statement is certainly true, even if it doesn’t really excuse much; the first doesn’t quite wash. Victorian racism is indeed on display throughout ‘The Talons of Weng-Chiang,’ but, oddly, Robert Holmes’s script never explicitly criticizes it, and the few truly identifiable swipes against it (Chang’s dry “I understand, we all look alike”; the Doctor’s one or two sarcastic responses to generalizations about the Chinese, e.g.) cannot be said with absolute certainty to come from the screenplay, and could easily be ironic line readings chosen by the actors or the director.

These observations out of the way, it is probably fair to say that this objection to ‘Talons’ has been somewhat exaggerated. No, the script isn’t aggressively critical of 19th century attitudes about race, but it isn’t enthusiastic about them either, and if this were the story’s only troubling aspect it might be easier to see why it’s so often overlooked.

But judged simply in terms of its entertainment value, ‘The Talons of Weng-Chiang’ seems to me to be only a fair representative of the Philip Hinchcliffe era, and not nearly as good as some. In particular, the story often strikes me as a poor man’s ‘Brain of Morbius.’ Michael Spice’s presence aside, the plot has many parallels to the earlier story – both have crippled, technologically advanced megalomaniacs relying on human administrators to restore them to their former glorious states, via methods most unwholesome. But Greel is a less convincing villain than Morbius, whose unhinged rants make much sense when one considers the unending frustration that must be experienced by a brain sitting in a jug. Greel’s ranting, on the other hand, seems unconnected to his physical malady; in fact, one would think his disintegrating body would have made him too weak for the kind of relentless roaring Spice does in the role. Furthermore, while Holmes’s evocative “infamous minister of justice” and “butcher of Brisbane” lines are wonderfully sinister, they don’t quite jell with the pathetic paper tiger we see here, who can’t even do anything when his servants fail him but belittle and yell. And boy, does Spice yell – in fact, if anything, he seems bent on out-shouting his performance in ‘Morbius.’ In my view, a weak, obviously dying, more truly phantom-like Greel would have made more sense with this plot, but Spice didn’t choose this road, and the result is generically hammy Who villain, hardly belonging in the pantheon of greats. 

The rest of the problems are relatively minor, but they’re still worth noting. Henry Gordon Jago is a well-loved Holmes creation, but his alliteration rather grates on me, and he doesn’t really get a chance to be anything but pompous until the final episode. There’s a strange Anglocentric quality to some of the jokes, notably the Doctor’s strange, out-of-character one about Birmingham – why would a Time Lord know or care about such things? And speaking of the Doctor, Tom Baker puts in a decent performance, but the character strikes me as strangely all-knowing here. Perhaps it’s all part of the Holmes homage conceit (I mean Sherlock, not Robert, this time), but even so, the Doctor seems to do very little real deduction, but rather just leaps to the correct conclusions based on some very convenient foreknowledge (about the Tong of the Black Scorpion, the Time Cabinet, the Peking Homunculus, and of course the mythology of Weng-Chiang itself). He is the Doctor, of course, but it all feels a bit unnatural – I much prefer a Doctor who does a bit of genuine detective work, be it in this story or any other.

All this said, there are of course some wonderful, rightly beloved elements sprinkled here and there throughout the episode. I don’t generally find Louise Jameson very convincing as Leela – the character is brilliantly conceived, but the actress rarely sells it for me, despite looking the part (and then some, ahem). However, here her snarling contempt for Greel, and her lack of fear, shines through perfectly, and the line “When we are both in the great hereafter I shall hunt you down, bent-face, and put you through my agonies a thousand times!” gave me chills. And her interplay with Litefoot, an extremely likeable character, is charming; you sense that Jameson and Trevor Baxter got on rather well. I actually think the giant rat puppet works surprisingly well, especially when it’s rushing the camera, and of course Mr. Sin is a creepy, surreal idea with a terrific name (and I think he looks a bit like Jennifer Paterson, but maybe that’s just me). The screenplay and direction keep the action moving along, and in Episode Six everything comes together so well that we almost forget the bumps we encountered on the way there. And then there’s Mr. Chang . . .

Probably the greatest irony of ‘The Talons of Weng-Chiang,’ with its nebulous racial sensibilities, is that it is the story’s one ‘yellowface’ character that emerges as its single most successful element. Li H’sen Chang is an extremely complex creation – cold, and hideously unconcerned with the lives he takes for his master; and yet the character has a genuine pathos about him, even a tragedy. In his performance, John Bennett radiates cool loathing for the bigotry and blindnesses of his Victorian surroundings, and one can easily see how Chang could want to believe that an ancient god from his homeland would come to deliver him from a degrading, performing-monkey existence in a vulgar, foreign music hall – even to the point of grasping at straws, or committing murder. Holmes gives Chang the most beautiful lines of the story – even throwaway ones like his description of the Doctor as having “hair that curls like a ram” have a touch of poetry in them, and by the end we are genuinely angry at Greel for his thankless mistreatment and misunderstanding of his patient, deluded servant. Chang’s final scene, in which he is allowed to recognize some of his mistakes, and make a kind of peace with his fate, is a welcome piece of mercy on Holmes’s part, the character expires with a dignity that was sorely lacking in his Victorian life anyway. 

Of course, it would have been interesting to see an actual Chinese actor do the part . . . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Skip it.

Of course this was the episode we have been waiting for - the long overdue television confrontation between the Doctor and his nemesis. And what a result! We finally see the Doctor getting rattled - and with good cause. The Dalek portrayed here is fare deadlier than anything we have previously seen.

Some reviews I've noticed criticising this episode for it's portrayal of teh Doctor as prepared to kill or losing control and temper - as opposed to Sylv 'reasoning' the black Dalek to death. I have to say that one is certainly not more Doctor-ish than the other. The Sylv thing always sort of rankled with me anyway as there really wasnt much 'reasoning' going on. "Your planet's dead" causes the Dalek to blow up? A bit too convenient.

But here, the Doctor has been through a lot more with the Daleks than ever before. He has seen them wipe out his people. He has seen them reach heights of atrocity never before seen in the series - and as such it would be a major stretch to imagine that this wouldn't have affected the Doctor's attitude towards them.

And he has certainly been capable of destroying Daleks before with violence, even to the point of encouraging Ace to kill Daleks with that bat in Remembrance again.

This was the Doctor at his most desperate, confronted with a vision from his worst nightmare. Whereas previously he always approached the Daleks with a sort of smarmy arrogance, here he is genuinely terrified of them and we can only guess at the true extent of the time war.

This was a jaw drop of an episode and Joe Ahearne has squeezed every last bit of tension from the script. Shearman has turned in something exceptional and the reasoning way in which the Dalek coldly destroys the humans whilst slowly moving through the bunker was truly chilling. Who else was incredibly impressed by the way the Dalek dispatched an entire squad with the sprinkler system and one blast? Rob did more than just present a Dalek mindlessly killing, he presented a highly developed killing machine and then continually upped the stakes.

Bravo. This episode has put the Daleks back where they belong, in people's nightmares and shown that they can exist outside of the shadow of Davros at long last.

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

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

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

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

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