There is a school of thought that preaches tolerance of 'The Five Doctors' and is prepared to indulge its failings on the grounds that it is an anniversary story. This school of thought is presumably the same one that will excuse any old crap song reaching number one in the singles charts provided that it is for charity. Which always gives me the impression that artists then think "It's for charity, so I don't have to make an effort because anybody who complains will seem churlish". As it happens, I don't actually think 'The Five Doctors' is quite that bad, I am prepared to make a few allowances for the anniversary, and I think that Terrance Dicks made a considerable effort; considering that 'The Five Doctors' features not only five Doctors, but also five bona fide companions, K9 Mark III, four hallucinatory companions, a Dalek, some Cybermen, a Yeti, the Master, a new monster (Raston Warrior Robot), Borusa and the Castellan from 'Arc of Infinity', it is a miracle that it even hangs together at all. 

I'll start with the plot. The idea of time scooping the Doctor's past incarnations into the Death Zone on Gallifrey is an effective contrivance for getting them all together for the anniversary, as well as allowing the inclusion of old friends and enemies. The problem is, the rationale behind it doesn't make sense. The reason for the presence of the Doctors in the Death Zone is that Borusa wants them to reach the Dark Tower and switch off the force field so that he can transmat to the Tomb of Rassilon and gain immortality. So why does he fill the Death Zone with Cybermen? Why does he use all five of the Doctors? It doesn't improve the chances of success, because logically, if one of the first four Doctors is killed any subsequent incarnations will cease to exist. You could argue that the very existence of the Fifth Doctor proves that his earlier incarnations cannot have died in the Death Zone, except that the script implies near the start that the effect on the Fifth Doctor of his past selves being Time Scooped is not an established part of his existing time line, since it shouldn't make him so ill if it was. Borusa's entire plan is flawed anyway; as has been noted elsewhere, including The Discontinuity Guide, Borusa is risking rather a lot considering that the High Council apparently have the technology to offer a new regenerative cycle to the Master. 

And this is typical of the problem I have with Borusa; the wily and cunning politician of 'The Deadly Assassin' and 'The Invasion of Time' is transformed into a stock megalomaniac with a stupid and inconsistent plan. It is a waste of an established an interesting character, and it is a waste of Philip Latham who is very good in the role. The annoying thing about Borusa's sudden transformation into a nutter is that Dicks' decided on it because he though having the Master in control of the Game of Rassilon would have been too obvious. But in a story with so many different elements to juggle, was this twist really necessary? For one thing it (probably unintentionally) plagiarizes 'Arc of Infinity' by having a traitor on the High Council. For another, it would have suited the Master perfectly, because unlike Borusa I could well believe that he's mad enough to drag five Doctors to the Death Zone and put obstacles in their way, despite the fact that this would have endangered his plan. The Master as principle villain might have been obvious, but in a story with so many ingredients vying for attention, Dicks' desire for a twist actually works against the story. 

Moving on to the Doctors themselves, the lack of participation from Tom Baker is hugely disappointing, but is probably a blessing in disguise, since it effectively means that Dicks has only four incarnations to cope with. In addition, the use of the 'Shada' footage is an inspired way of including the Fourth Doctor and means that at least he puts in a token appearance for the anniversary story. How the story would have worked with yet another Doctor is a question that must remain unanswered, but as it stands, the other four Doctors are used rather well, each getting plenty to do. I find that there is something of a paradox surrounding the First Doctor; Richard Hurndall doesn't look, sound or act like William Hartnell. He captures something of the First Doctor's irascibility, but lacks the charm that Hartnell brought to the role, except during the farewell scene at the end, and the pre-credits clip of Hartnell from 'The Dalek Invasion of Earth' merely serves to highlight this fact. Hurndall's interpretation is merely grumpy, and his strangely sinister performance when he ponders the fate of his Fourth incarnation in the TARDIS is decidedly odd. But despite this, every time I watch 'The Five Doctors' I find that by the end of the story I have come to accept Hurndall's performance and I can't honestly explain why. Perhaps it is because the script makes good use of the First Doctor; it is appropriate that the Doctor least able to really on physically activity (for example running down tunnels or gliding across massive drops on a wire) gets to deal with the problem of the chess board and realises just what "To lose is to win and he who wins shall lose" means. Furthermore, the decision to team up the often-crotchety First Doctor with the often-obstreperous Tegan works rather well too, since he's far less inclined to humour her than the Fifth Doctor is; their acerbic relationship is very entertaining. 

As the Second Doctor, Patrick Troughton puts in a much better performance than in 'The Three Doctors', but the character is still portrayed as something of a caricature. His initial scene, in which he visits a post-UNIT era Brigadier, is simply dire; having decided that the Second Doctor was a bit anarchic, Dicks makes him both rude and obnoxious. Furthermore, the awful "Doctor" "Who?" joke is painful; it doesn't work, since Crichton was discussing the Doctor with the Brigadier moments before, and is the kind of self-indulgent twaddle that has rendered most of Dicks' Doctor Who novels unreadable. Once the Second Doctor and the Brigadier find themselves on Gallifrey however, things improve considerably; whilst Troughton never quite recaptures his performance of old, he does at least combine some of the fierce intelligence and whimsical nature that made him so successful in the role. Sadly, once reunited with his other incarnations, the Second Doctor reverts to the same caricature that was seen during his first appearance in the story, and which harkens back to the 'The Three Doctors'; nevertheless, for a little while as he and the Brigadier dodge Cybermen and run from the Yeti, Troughton's old magic returns. Teaming him up with the Brigadier works especially well, as the banter between the pair remains entertaining throughout. Indeed, Courtney is once more superb, returning to his role with tremendous ease, and drawing on the quiet dignity that he demonstrated in 'Mawdryn Undead'. Mention of the Second Doctor and the Brigadier brings me to two of the phantom companions in the shape of Jamie and Zoe; it's a nice way of allowing two more old companions to feature in the anniversary story without further overcrowding, and it is nice to see them both put in an appearance even if Wendy Padbury is inexplicably dressed in bubble wrap. Famously, it also buggers up continuity, but since I like the "Season Six B" theory anyway I can't pretend to really care. 

As the Third Doctor, Jon Pertwee is much better, possibly reflecting Dicks' association with that incarnation as script-editor of his era. Whilst this Doctor could often be bad tempered and pompous, he could also be gallant and charming, and Dicks captures that in the script. Pertwee falls back into his role with ease, and remains true to his past performance; his lack of tolerance for the Master, who is trying to get him to trust him, and his willingness to abandon him to the thunderbolts raining down on the Death Zone is an excellent evocation of the relationship between the Third Doctor and the Master. The Doctor's tendency to reject the Master with utter contempt and the Master's fury at this rejection (for example in 'Colony in Space') is recaptured very well here. In addition, the Third Doctor gets to show off his more action-oriented tendencies, by approaching the Dark Tower from above and rather perilously crossing a wire to get to it, which seems very appropriate to this incarnation. Teaming up the Third Doctor with Sarah works very well too, since their on screen relationship during Pertwee's era is often overlooked in favour of his time with Jo. Liz Sladen can play Sarah in her sleep now, and she returns to the role as easily as she did in 'K9 and Company - A Girl's Best Friend'. Given my fondness for the character, I'm pleased that she was able to appear in the anniversary story, even if she does end up dressed in a truly hideous outfit. She also gets an awful moment in which she falls down a very gentle slope, and promptly acts as though she's hanging off a cliff. Terrance Dicks' novelisation sensibly changes this to a fall down a steep crevasse, thus making sense of Pertwee's towrope antics, but sadly it remains embarrassing on screen. The Third Doctor also meets two phantom companions, in this case Liz Shaw and Captain Yates. Making a special effort for the anniversary, Richard Franklin manages to deliver his finest performance ever in the role of Yates, mainly because he only has a handful of lines. 

Comfortable in the midst of his own time in the role, Peter Davison is his usual good self throughout 'The Five Doctors', and given that it is "his" era, I find it quite fitting that he gets to be the Doctor who travels to the Capitol and uncovers Borusa's plan. Davison's performance when the Doctor confronts his old friend in the game control room is superb, combining sadness with anger at Borusa's crimes. He also gets a great moment with Hurndall in the TARDIS, as both the First and Fifth Doctors snap irritably at Tegan and Turlough. The opening scenes on the Eye of Orion are also worthy of mention; this is the only time we get to see this TARDIS crew relax, and after the Black Guardian trilogy and being locked up in 'The King's Demons' it is rather nice to see Turlough in particular looking happy. Turlough spends most of the rest of the story stuck in the TARDIS with Susan, but given the number of story elements to be juggled here this seems fair enough to me. It is perhaps more of a shame that Susan is so sidelined; having got Carole Ann Ford to return to the role after so long, it is unfortunate that Susan does so little, and having her sprain her ankle to provide a reason for keeping her stuck in the TARDIS smells to me of the work of a hack. Still, 'The Five Doctors' is a work of some desperation, so once more I'm prepared to forgive Dicks!

So what of the villains then? Well the Master is used far better than in 'The King's Demons'; Anthony Ainley hams it up during his first scene as the Master sits and smiles like a Cheshire cat, accepting Borusa's unflattering description of him as a complement. I also take issue with the Castellan's willingness to make use of a man who previously tried to destroy Gallifrey by nicking the Eye of Harmony, simply to rescue the Doctor. I'll generously assume that they don't know about 'Logopolis', but since we are discussing a gratuitous ninety-minute continuity fest, I'd like to point out that Morbius probably got executed for far less… I also find the Third Doctor's description of the Master as his "best enemy" immensely irritating, serving as a reminder of just how much of a pantomime villain he's become. Nevertheless, although Ainley hams up the role at times, he also plays it with restraint at times, and when he does it works very well. As I noted above, the Master's genuine anger at the Third Doctor not trusting him is interesting, speaking volumes about his real opinion of the Doctor, as does his comment that "a cosmos without the Doctor scarcely bears thinking about". I also like the fact that the Brigadier gets to defeat his old enemy with a sharp punch to the jaw at the end, whilst shouting "Nice to see you again!". 

The presence of a Dalek in 'The Five Doctors' is purely gratuitous, but this is the anniversary and given that the Daleks were crucial to the early success of the programme, it is genuinely understandably rather than just another element thrown in from the past at random. Besides if I'm honest, that image of a Dalek chasing the Doctor and Susan through gleaming corridors stuck with me when I first saw 'The Five Doctors' at the age of six, and I've had a soft spot for it ever since. In addition, the Dalek's destruction is quite impressive, showing as it does a writhing Dalek mutant oozing various fluids as it expires. The cameo by K9 Mark III is equally gratuitous, but probably appealed to the younger members of the audience and anyone who hadn't had to sit through 'K9 and Company - A Girl's Best Friend'. The Yeti too is a gratuitous link to the past, but is well used even if it does raise questions about how it is possible to Time Scoop part of the Great Intelligence, and it provides a suitable obstacle for the Second Doctor and the Brigadier. On the subject of obstacles for the Doctors, the sole new "monster" to appear in 'The Five Doctors' looks quite effective. The well-endowed Raston Warrior Robot looks surprisingly alien considering that it is obviously a man in a spandex suit, this success being largely down to its weird means of moving about. Unfortunately, mention of the Raston Warrior Robot brings me to my main criticism of 'The Five Doctors' and one that seriously compromises my enjoyment of it. 

Having revamped the Cybermen for 'Earthshock' and made them memorably scary once more, John Nathan-Turner here allows them to start their final down turn during the series' history, beginning the slow degeneration that will plague their remaining on screen appearances. The Cybermen here are little more than cannon fodder, slaughtered on mass first by the Raston Warrior Robot and then by the Master's treachery with the chessboard trap. They blunder about in the Death Zone achieving little and making a mockery of the Doctor's claim that they, like the Daleks, play the Game of Rassilon too well. As in 'Earthshock', David Banks' slightly too emotional but strangely charismatic performance as the Cyber Leader is rather captivating, but the scheming and formidable tactician of 'Earthshock' is absent here. The Cybermen look great, and they make for a distinctive sight as they march about the countryside of the Death Zone, but they have become a joke, from the Cyberman's exclamation of "Ooh!" on spotting the Doctor, to a ghastly scene sadly reinstated for the Special Edition in which the Cyber Lieutenant tells his squad "Your orders are to move back!" prompting them to shuffle around in a homage to Dad's Army. 

Gallifrey at least benefits a little from the story; the new Rassilon mythology provides interesting new layers to Time Lord history, hinting at a dark and barbaric past that is worthy of Robert Holmes' work on 'The Deadly Assassin'. Furthermore, Gallifrey looks better than in 'Arc of Infinity' due to much better set design although the pot plants visible in the extra scenes in the Special Edition unfortunately recapture the office complex feel given to the Capitol in that story. Indeed, the production of the 'The Five Doctors' is very good; the location work is superb, the sets are generally very well designed (although I find it annoying that Borusa's game board just happens to have five sides…), and Peter Howell's incidental score is very good. Peter Moffatt, one of Doctor Who's more pedestrian directors, keeps things ticking along adequately, if unremarkably. The special effects are probably worth mentioning too; the black obelisk of the Time Scoop is highly distinctive and very effective, and far better than the glass ice cream cone used for the Special Edition. On the other hand, the Special Edition does get bonus points from me for replacing the crap green rays that destroy the Cybermen on the chessboard with far more dynamic lightening bolts. This is purely cosmetic however, and although 'The Five Doctors' is flawed, any unsatisfactory effects are merely a limitation of the time and budget. 

By the end of 'The Five Doctors' I'm always left with a feeling of having watched something that is, perhaps inevitably, far less than the sum of its parts. The final scenes are horribly twee, simply to allow a crass nod in the direction of the series' origins. The idea that Chancellor Flavia would offer the highest position in Time Lord society to anyone as erratic as the Doctor is absurd; whatever his many attributes may be, he is clearly not suited to the role of President. By writing this feeble development into the end of the story, Dicks' thus allows the Doctor to go on the run from his own people in a stolen TARDIS again. It is perhaps a fitting ending for the anniversary story, but its also clumsy and contrived. And that perhaps is the best way to sum up 'The Five Doctors'; it's a fun romp, it works in a sort of shallow congratulatory way, and Dicks does very well to achieve even that considering the number of elements he was required to factor in. But five Doctors and assorted companions and villains do not a classic make and 'The Five Doctors' is ultimately little more than a self-indulgent oddity.

In the midst of a cold, dark British winter there is nothing better than to curl up on the settee and watch an adventure set in a hot, sunny location. Aside from the arid landscape of Lanzarote matched to the initial and most appropriate haunting, slightly spiritual incidental music ‘Planet of Fire’ has much more to offer the causal armchair tourist.

Since joining the TARDIS crew in the previous season, the character of Turlough has managed to retain a sense of mystery about his past thus making him one of the more interesting male companions that the series has featured. Although long since freed from his contract with the Black Guardian there remains that element of doubt regarding his trustworthiness and his tendency to invariably put his own interests before others. With this story slated as being Turlough’s last it was clear that the character’s background had to be clarified prior to his departure. It is therefore more about his voyage of discovery and resolution to his situation that is the main factor of the story. All other plot developments whilst being enjoyable and offering a valued contribution to the overall appeal of the story are, I feel, rather secondary to that objective. 

Whilst attempting to program an alpha rhythm on the TARDIS console to calm the other companion, the android Kamelion, it is the receipt of a distress call from Trion that clearly distresses the young man. This first link to his past results in violent action and his destruction of the communication equipment reawakens an element of distrust between Turlough and the Doctor. We then later in the episode have the discovery of a metal cylinder which bears a mysterious double triangle emblem on the screw top. This design (a smaller solid triangle set across the base line of a larger hollow triangle) which matches the one to be found on Turlough’s upper left arm, we are later informed is the ‘Misos triangle’, apparently a mark of a very special Trion prison planet prisoner. Now, at this point I do find it a little hard to believe that this metal cylinder from the alien planet of Trion found its way, of all places, into an archaeological site submerged in the sea off the island of Lanzarote. In the context of the story, I suppose, its just another ‘unexplained puzzle of history’ but at least it’s another good excuse to use this exotic location. 

Again from Turlough’s perspective the discovery, during the second episode, of equipment from his father’s ship strewn around the primitive Sarn resident’s great hall adds a further piece of family history as does the subsequent visit to the wreckage of a crashed Trion ship. It is in the fourth episode that we eventually learn of the Civil War that raged on his home planet of Trion, a war that led to the death of his mother, of his father and brother to leave, eventually landing, it now appears, on Sarn and for Turlough himself to begin a term of exile on Earth. Unlike the third Doctor he did not have the diversion of working for UNIT and this might have, in part, contributed to his sense of desperation at his fate and eventual capitulation to the Black Guardian’s proposal of conditional escape. As the story progresses the clarification of Turlough’s background becomes even more linked with the people of Sarn. 

Right from the opening scenes of the story it becomes clear to the viewer that they are a divided people. The more rational ‘unbeliever’ pairing of Roskal and Amand are seen walking purposely across a high ridge surrounded by a desolate mountainous landscape. While Roskal starts to weaken as they begin their final ascent it is Amand, displaying leadership qualities, who persuades him on in their quest to disprove the existence of their god Logar who is believed to exist at the heart of the mountain they are currently climbing. Whilst they toil we then switch to the other faction. Two other Sarn residents, again dressed in simple desert clothing, rough cloth capes and head scarfs, are talking in simple palatial surroundings (possibly in the story context, a holy temple?) which hints at the Moroccan architectural style which I suspect is common to the island of Lanzarote judging by its proximity to the African continent. The elder man, Timanov, is clearly steeped in religious beliefs concerning Logar (‘The Lord of Fire’) and sees himself as a spiritual leader who is guided by those select individuals whom he sees as ‘Chosen Ones’ who have come amongst them to do the will of Logar. One such individual, Malkon, clearly indicates his uncertainty in leading and uniting his people. He seeks reassurance during their conversation which later sees them move outside of the impressive looking Mirador del Rio (a high observation point) to survey the panoramic scenery laid out before them. It is here during their conversation, that we first observe the as yet undefined twin triangle symbol on Malkon’s arm. It is because of this, coupled with his appearance on the side of the mountain that Roskal and Amand were currently climbing that identifies in Timanov’s eyes (and those of his followers) the young man as their leader who will act with the power of Logar. I find this scene coupled with that moving piece of incidental music to be a memorable moment, a tranquil calm before the plot develops further. 

In a later scene we move to verbal conflict between Amand and Timanov in the communities main hall when the former returns from the mountain having been unable to locate Logar thus supporting his claim that it is merely a superstitious myth. This thus emphasizes that there is already internal conflicts even before the arrival of outsiders. Of those outsiders Turlough’s interaction with the Sarn residents is the most interesting and revealing. This is especially true when he reveals the twin triangle symbol to Timanov. Mark (Strickson) responds well to the challenge of his characters new found leadership and at this point credit is also due the story’s leading guest star. More famous as flamboyant detective Jason King (from the self titled short-lived series and its ‘Department S’ predecessor) respected actor Peter Wyngarde gives a believable and resolute performance as Timanov and is a welcome bonus to this story. 

Although Turlough, in the first TARDIS scene, was successful in halting the distress call from Trion, the Doctor’s curiosity was raised enough for their exploration of Lanzarote. Whilst the arid conditions of this tropical island (and the volcanic planet of Sarn) leads the Doctor to remove his long cricketer’s coat and briefly adopt a rather restrained floral cardigan with pockets for the coins (later to be used in a seaside bar) and the small handheld tracking device Turlough has a more welcome costume change. Finally he has the chance to ditch the Brendon Public School uniform that he seems to have been wearing almost continuously since ‘Mawdryn Undead’ and instead wears a more appropriate pair of shorts and a thin striped short sleeved shirt. Had their search of the island not have occurred the introduction of Peri would undoubtedly not have taken place. It is indeed a promising beginning for the character whom we first meet in a seemingly bored state at the prospect of having to vacation on the island with her mother for much longer when she clearly is looking for more excitement than what appears to be on offer. This is probably, in part, stimulated by observing her interest in her stepfather Howard’s involvement in an underwater archaeological survey. Beginning with Professor Howard Foster and assistant Curt’s conveying their latest haul to the shore, we learn a lot about the young American girls personal history and plans for the future. The vacation is merely a brief break prior to returning to New York to continue her studies and eventual college exams. Clearly unhappy at the prospect her hope is obviously to ‘live a little’ before knuckling down to this seemingly arduous endeavour. There is talk of recklessly considering a trip to nearby Morocco, cashing in her return ticket to pay for this trip in the vain hope that she would be able to find work there for the return flight to America. Howard tricks her into believing that he would finance this seemingly spur of the moment trip and strands her on their boat. At this point the real Howard leaves the story. Whilst there Peri discovers the strange metallic cylinder, and, with placing it into a sealed plastic bag containing most of her clothes, dives off the boat, in a vain attempt to swim to the shore. Having grossly miscalculated the distance to be traversed she is observed to be in trouble by Turlough on the TARDIS scanner screen. Clearly irritated by the distraction he glances up thumping the console in frustration before rushing out, down the beach, stripping off, diving in and gallantly swims to save her. Having brought her back to the TARDIS and deposited her on a bed located away from the console room it is then that he discovers the cylinder amongst her possessions. 

Now I know that Kamelion was an extremely problematic concept for a companion and that regular cast members were very disparaging towards the use of it but I did find that it made an enjoyable contribution to its first appearance in ‘The Kings Demons’ story. As a chameleonic entity its true appearance in that story was only seen towards the end as a surprise development and then only in a seated position. Of course with no free will of its own and an extreme susceptibility to external influences its presence on the TARDIS was a bit like ‘a time bomb waiting to go off’. It was a beautiful creation, however, when standing infront of the console it was hard to believe that this entity had the ability to move of its own will, it just seemed too thin for that, but maybe that’s just my opinion. Anyway it seemed only a matter of time before the mechanical puppets strings would be pulled once more, and, influenced by Peri’s restless dreaming, it assumed the identity of Professor Howard Foster. Kamelion held this form just long enough to persuade the Doctor and Turlough to vacate the TARDIS once landed on Sarn and then, at the climax of episode one, it reverted to the striking features of the Master, albeit minus the Traken robes of Tremas. With a temporary loss of control achieved Peri is given a component from the TARDIS and flees in search of the Doctor and Turlough. The Master/Kamelion entity gives chase with some initial ‘heavy-shouldered’ running by the suited figure before a memorable spirited confrontation ensues when Peri is eventually cornered by her pursuer. 

For myself, I am a great fan of Anthony Ainley’s portrayal of the Master, an impressive new aspect of the Doctor’s nemesis, superbly introduced by Roger Delgado back in 1971’s ‘Terror of the Autons’. Over the eight years that he occasionally returned to play the character I enjoyed the contrasting aspect that Anthony brought to the role. In this incarnation the Master clearly relishes each dastardly act he perpetrates and the verbal sparing he has with each incarnation of the Doctor that he encounters is, for me, a joy to watch. For this story however, things are a little different as we are aware that, for the most part he acts through Kamelion. Despite this the confrontational sparing match occurring at the crossover between the second and third episodes is worthy of the true Master. This Master also gains the same perverted pleasure in stirring up descent amongst the locals against the Doctor leading to the accidental injury of Malkon by a trigger hungry citizen. The true Traken robed Master is, for most of the story, to be seen standing in a small square room, a darkly green lit environment in which the bearded figure stares through Kamelion via a circular screen slightly above him. Attached by a curved metal stem, a shallow glass dish is positioned over his head, with four metal prongs protruding inwards towards the skull of the Master thus further emphasizing his mental control over Kamelion. 

Again we had a repetition of the mental battle of wills in episode three between the Doctor and the Master as previously witnessed in ‘The Kings Demons’ when it is revealed that this is infact Kamelion who stands before him in the communities main hall. This time there is a psychomorphic fringing effect (a stage between anthropoid and robotic) however in this instance, with Timanov in attendance, the spiritual leader clearly sees the silver skinned figure as another manifestation of Logar which works against the Doctor in this instance and the combat is concluded in the Masters favour. 

There is, this time, clearly a purpose behind the Master’s appearance in this story which may possibly be linked to the Doctor’s tampering with the Tissue Compression Eliminator in conjunction with his TARDIS at the conclusion of ‘The Kings Demons’. It is possible that this might in part have resulted in his reduction in size as discovered by Peri when she opens ‘the Master’s control box’ at the episode three/four crossover point. Whatever the reason it was an effective cliffhanger. By using the seismic control centre deep in the mountain it appears to be possible to alter the gas flow of the main volcano so that a blue numisation gas can be produced. Clearly this has a restorative capability as the seriously injured Malkon is cured during the fourth episode. For this reason the Kamelion/Master and Peri materialised the Master’s TARDIS in the control room deep in the heart of the Sarn volcano where Peri gains a demonstration of the destructive capabilities of the Tissue Compression Eliminator device on two of the three protective suits hanging up on a nearby rack. Now the understanding is that this device only works on human tissue and it does indeed seem puzzling that the suits are affected by its use. My opinion is that whilst wearing these suits the occupants might have lost some skin, rough material in the lining perhaps, due to the heat of wearing something so restricting and warm. It’s only a theory but this might be what the TCE locks onto. Whatever the reason it was an effective means of gaining Peri’s compliance to the Kamelion/Master’s wishes. Having positioned the TARDIS and ‘Master’s control box’ in the middle of an adjacent grid the brief blue flame that was created seemed to be working for the Master though once again we are left wondering his ultimate fate at the conclusion of the story. 

As with the second Doctor in the epic, enjoyable ‘War Games’ story Turlough does find it unsettling to contact his own people for assistance, anxious regarding further punishment. However when the rescue ship does arrive towards the end of the story he learns from the Trion ship’s Captain that not only has the war ended but also that there is no longer persecution of political prisoners and he is now free to return. Naturally his departure is much less emotional than that of Tegan’s in the previous story but at least it seems like some of the emotional burden that Turlough had been carrying since his exile to Earth may be beginning to lift as he embarks on his new life. With Turlough’s departure the pairing of the Doctor and Peri, the outgoing botany student, gives the show a new dynamic going into the final Davison story and beyond.

‘Planet of Fire’ may have faults and cannot really be termed a classic, but I feel it is certainly successful in blending effective use of a pleasing exotic location with an entertaining cast. It conveys an enjoyable story featuring various plot developments and makes it worthy of repeat viewings, especially on those days when our British weather just makes you want to escape to better climates. It is certainly one of my favourite stories from the Peter Davison era of the program which I can certainly recommend to any reader of this review.

Death to the Daleks' has a fairly poor reputation, but I've never quite understood why. It may not be a classic, and indeed has several flaws, but it's still an entertaining, fast paced little story that generally works rather well on several fronts. 

Firstly, I said when I reviewed 'Colony in Space' that I'm a sucker for ancient races, super weapons and mysterious powerful alien races. Whilst the City isn't a super-weapon as such, the principle remains the same, and like the Uxariens, the fruits of their once mighty technology have slowly destroyed the Exxilons. I'm also a sucker for B-movie plots involving quests through labyrinths riddled with traps, so all in all 'Death to the Daleks' has a certain appeal for me thanks to the Exxilons and their City alone. The City works very well; it looks effective, and lives up to the threat that Bellal insists it poses; not only is it capable of draining power from the TARDIS in addition to the other ships on Exxilon, it also proves able to defend itself and has regenerative capabilities. The roots are surprisingly effective, despite the occasional glimpse of a wire holding them up, and the screeching noise they make as they attack is suitably chilling. The seeming ease (relatively speaking) with which the Doctor and Bellal reach the heart (or rather, the brain) of the City seems suspicious until they actually get there, when the Doctor realizes that the traps are designed to let intelligent visitors through so that it can add their knowledge to its own; having proved a threat to it, the City responds with the Antibodies, which are fairly creepy, especially as they are seemingly indestructible. The Exxilons themselves are a fairly basic primitive tribal society, which are rife throughout science fiction in general and Doctor Who in particular, but they look quite good and Bellal makes for a pleasing pseudo-companion (he doesn't actually do much besides allow the Doctor to explain the plot to the viewers, but he's quite likeable). The notion of the two Exxilon factions isn't really exploited, but then again there isn't really time to show them at odds; in plot terms, Bellal's breakaway group exists to explain the origins of the City and they do little else. The religious divide between the groups is plausible enough, although personally I suspect that Bellal's group is persecuted because they insist on walking around stark bollock naked. 

Considering how utterly ghastly their last outing was the Daleks are used well here. In many respects, they benefit from the plot, which sees them landing on Exxilon after the humans have been dithering and getting nowhere for some time, and quickly taking charge of the situation. After briefly panicking when they discover that their guns don't work, they make a bargain with the Exxilons to secure the parrineum, and to buy them time whilst they devise alternative weaponry, which is a least a nod in the direction of their old cunning and intelligence. It also speaks volumes about the Daleks that they quickly come up with a substitute weapon; this is understandable considering their helplessness when unarmed (note the Dalek that glides at the attacking Exxilons in Episode Two screeching "Exterminate!" almost instinctively and thus gets destroyed), but it also showcases their technical brilliance. Incidentally, their ability to move about on Exxilon is interesting; the script explains it away by stating that they move by psychokinesis, which is a rather startling new development, and one which suggests that Terry Nation suddenly noticed a plot-hole whilst he was writing and decided to hurriedly gloss over it. However, an upshot of this is that it also makes the Daleks look good, since however they do it, the fact remains that they retain motive power when even the TARDIS has been incapacitated. The irony of the Dalek involvement in 'Death to the Daleks' is that it is crucial to the success of the Earth mission; it is the Daleks who organize the mining (admittedly through their usual unpleasant tactics), and it is the Daleks who provide the explosives to destroy the beacon and end the power-drain. In addition, whilst we only see the two Daleks in the City tackling two of the five tests faced by the Doctor and Bellal, they don't seem to have much trouble with any them. In short, 'Death to the Daleks' makes the Daleks look pretty good. Having said that, the self-destructing Dalek in Episode Four is just annoying; it may be standard Dalek policy not to allow failure, but on an important mission to a dangerous planet on which three Daleks have already been destroyed it would surely make more sense for it to try and recapture its prisoner! 

The human characters are less effective, with only the unpleasant Galloway (Duncan Lamont, who played doomed astronaut Victor Caroon in The Quatermass Experiment) standing out. John Abineri is wasted as Railton, and Julian Fox is rather dreadful as Hamilton. Joy Harrison has to suffer with being the token female, which is one of my main criticisms of 'Death to the Daleks'; Jill Tarrant is a member of a military expedition, and yet she spends a great deal of time panicking, or on the verge of tears, or asking a journalist with no military training what to do. It's utterly ridiculous; she's like the embodiment of passive sexism. 

The Doctor and Sarah are there usual reliable selves. Sarah gets sidelined for much of the story, but Liz Sladen does what she can with her limited scenes; her clobbering of the Exxilon in the TARDIS is a great scene, in part because it's rather claustrophobic, Sarah frantically trying to open the door of what should be a safe haven whilst her attacker starts to recover on the floor behind her. Pertwee isn't at his best or worst here, he simply puts in an average performance, although I do like his "a hit Sir, a palpable hit!" routine when the root attacks the Dalek. 

Production wise, the story is mixed. The model work of the city looks good, as does its final destruction. There are moments of impressive direction, including shots of the expedition's photographs of the City superimposed over Sarah approaching the edifice, and the surreal final test in the City. Showing us the attacking Exxilons from the point of view of a Dalek in Episode Two also works well, conveying the unarmed Dalek's panic at being unable to defend itself. Serves it right. However, as in 'Planet of the Daleks', the contrast between location footage and studio footage is rather jarring, especially as the extensive rocky sets look decidedly plastic. This is doubly unfortunate, since the location work is very atmospheric. I also wish that they hadn't used the static Dalek to bulk up numbers; I'm not sure why, but I actually find it far more distracting than photographic cardboard cut-outs used in the black and white Dalek stories. There is unfortunately some crap editing; it is obvious before the end credits role in Episode One that the Dalek guns don't work, and the cliff-hanger to Episode Three is beyond belief, consisting as it does of a shot of a tiled floor. There's also a pointless frame of Galloway screaming after he detonates the bomb at the end, which isn't remotely convincing. My strongest criticism of the story however, is the stupid incidental music, which robs several scenes of any dramatic tension that they might have had. A very silly musical sting for example, accompanies the first sight of the Daleks as they glide from their ship.

Despite these criticisms however, 'Death to the Daleks' is well paced and entertaining, and makes effective use of its eponymous villains.

'Planet of Evil' has fallen on hard times. Back when fans' only knowledge of old Doctor Who stories were hazy memories story guides like that in Doctor Who: A Celebration, 'Planet of Evil' was a terrifying story that drew on Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde to great effect and was even compared to Alien, as a monster picked up on an alien planet slaughtered the crew of a spaceship. With the video release however, opinions became rather more divided, and 'Planet of Evil' was found by many to disappoint. But 'Planet of Evil' doesn't really deserve its poor reputation. Whilst it is overshadowed by the stories on either side of it, it still has much to offer.

Firstly, the jungle set, one of the story's most famous aspects, is pretty good. It looks suitably different from any jungle on Earth, and its rubbery vegetation gives it a very alien feel, which is enhanced greatly by the wise decision to shoot many of the jungle scenes on film. Indeed, Zeta Minor is one of the most unearthly alien planets seen in the series, with its weird foliage, non-reflective black pool and the Anti-Matter monster. The monster too is far more alien than many seen in the series, due to its appearance as a red outline (an obvious, but effective homage to Forbidden Planet), and the fact that unlike many intelligent aliens in Doctor Who it doesn't speak English, its only communication with the Doctor achieved through a surreal scene in a black void. 

Set amidst this alien landscape, Episode One gets off to a promising start. Sorensen sets the scene with his terse assertion that the planet is alive, and the deaths of the two Morestrans are dramatic and disturbing, as they vanish screaming in agony, only to reappear as quite convincing shriveled corpses. The sense of danger established in these early scenes is maintained throughout, with the Anti-Matter Monster and the Anti-Men well nigh unstoppable; the tension in Episode Four as the marauding advance through the ship and agonized screams are heard over the communications system, whilst the ship plummets back towards Zeta Minor is palpable. However, flaws start to appear in Episode One as the Doctor and Sarah are imprisoned in a room from which they can easily escape; admittedly the script addresses this, and it gives Sarah something to do since it is she who realises that with the failing power the magnetic window locks will have weakened, but it feels very contrived. 

I'm in two minds about the Morestran probe ship sets. They are very sparse, and this contrasts sharply with the jungle on Zeta Minor, and this makes a certain amount of sense since it further enhances the planet's alien feel and also military vehicles are not renowned for their décor. On the other hand, these sets are so stark and featureless that they are actually boring to look at, and ironically the comparatively moody lighting in the corridors makes them marginally more interesting than the command area. The Morestran costumes are also pretty awful, which doesn't help the story's visual appeal during the latter two episodes. 

In addition to these minor flaws, there are two aspects of 'Planet of Evil' that I originally considered to be weaknesses, but as the story progressed I found that, bizarrely, they actually added to the story. The first is the anti-matter plot line. As Kate Orman has pointed out, anti-matter does not cause people to turn into ape-men, it simply causes huge explosions in collision with matter. Initially, this makes this plot seem like pure technobabble, but then in Episode Two, during a conversation between the Doctor and Sarah, it is pointed out that matter and anti-matter in collision causes a massive release of energy (as seen in 'The Three Doctors'). Suddenly, by addressing this inconsistency, the script makes the anti-matter plotline seem less like technobabble and more like intentional fantasy, and in doing so adds further to otherworldly nature of Zeta Minor, subtly reminding us that this unique planet is a gateway between universes, neither entirely in this universe nor the universe of anti-matter. This also ties in with the Doctor's implication that if the Morestran ship manages to get too far from Zeta Minor with anti-matter on board, there will be a cataclysmic explosion that will threaten the entire universe, suggesting that Zeta Minor exists in a state contrary to the laws of physics. 

The second aspect is Salamaar. In my opinion, there is no evidence in Doctor Who that Prentis Hancock can act; he was wooden in 'Planet of the Daleks' and he's wooden here, although it doesn't help that he's playing very similar characters in both stories. Nevertheless, Salamaar the character is rather interesting. He's ludicrously unstable and clearly unfit for command, making reckless decisions and twice intending to execute the Doctor and Sarah simply because it will make his life easier if they are responsible for killing the Morestrans on Zeta Minor. When he eventually accepts the truth, he adopts a death and glory attitude, launching a suicidal and misguided attack on Sorenson that further endangers the surviving crew. Initially, I found it absurd that such an unstable character could become commander of a military expedition, but as the story progressed this too made me think; there are hints that Sorenson's influence back on Morestra will get him whatever he wants, and once these hints of corruption are sown it raises the obvious possibility that Morestra is so corrupt that Salamaar himself reached a high ranking position because of friends in high places. This is further supported by the fact that the much more competent but disruptive Vishinski holds a lower position, raising the possibility that his outspoken nature has harmed his career. 

The acting in 'Planet of Evil' is variable. Tom Baker and Elizabeth Sladen by now play their roles with ease, and the Doctor gets to be suitably impressive here, claiming that he is not without influence and proving able to communicate with the Anti-Matter Monster. Sladen is convincingly frightened at appropriate moments, especially the cliffhanger to Episode Three and during the final attack of the Anti-Men in Episode Four. Frederick Jaeger is superb as Sorensen, playing the tortured scientist with great emotion. Sorensen's initial obsession with his work is so all consuming that he blames the Doctor and Sarah for the deaths of his colleagues and strenuously denies both the Doctor's claims about Zeta Minor and also the transformation that he is undergoing. But Jaeger suggests that Sorenson is also troubled by his conscience, and his quiet confession to the Doctor in Episode four that "My hypothesis… was false" has rather a noble ring to it. In story terms, this admission seems to bring him redemption, and the Anti-Matter Monster unexpectedly cures him at the end of the story. Vishinski is also well acted by Ewan Solon, but the other Morestrans are utterly forgettable, with one or two (Ponti being a prime example) being quite bad. 

In summary, 'Planet of Evil' is flawed but effective and certainly doesn't deserve its recent poor reputation. In a weaker season it might stand out more, but as it stands it is overshadowed by both 'Terror of the Zygons' and the story that follows…

'The Masque of Mandragora' is very well made and contains almost all the right ingredients for a successful Doctor Who story. Despite this it remains rather overlooked, perhaps because, for all that it should be a classic, there is a slight impression of something that is less than the sum of its parts. 

The plot of 'The Masque of Mandragora' perfectly fills the story's four-episode length, and contains a number of subplots. The main threat is that of the Mandragora Helix, a mysterious and powerful alien entity that seeks to subjugate humanity because it believes that mankind will one day reach out into space and encroach on its territory. It therefore hijacks the TARDIS and uses it to travel to fifteenth century Italy, intending to destroy leading thinkers of the time and keep mankind in the dark ages. Tying in with this is the Cult of Demnos, a sect that practices human sacrifice and which is secretly headed by Hieronymous, court astrologer to Count Federico, the local tyrant. Finally, we have the power struggle between Federico and his nephew Giuliano, heir to the thrown of San Martino; Federico is a butcher who brutally rules the people and who killed his own brother for power, whereas Guiliano is a quiet, thoughtful and intelligent young man who wants the best for his people and who also has a thirst for knowledge that makes him eager to meet leading Renaissance thinkers and artists. These three plot threads mesh perfectly, making for a well-paced and interesting story. My only criticism of the plot is the Doctor realizing that Sarah has been hypnotized because she asks how she can understand Italian; the implication is that having been given this "Time Lord gift", she automatically understands how it works and should take it for granted, but it doesn't seem that odd that she should bring it up in conversation. This is, nevertheless, a minor criticism.

The production looks great, with superb location work prominent throughout (as a trivial aside, it's quite strange recognizing bits of San Martino from The Prisoner, both having been filmed in Portmeirion). The sets are generally very impressive; the stone walls of the catacombs are obviously fake, but unconvincing stone walls are a common problem of nineteen-seventies Doctor Who and easily forgivable. The palace interiors and the temple however are well realized. On the subject of sets, I'd also like to mention the debut of the TARDIS' wood-paneled secondary control room, which remains my favourite TARDIS control room set to date; dusty mahogany décor rather suits the Doctor's vaguely Edwardian wardrobe. The period costumes on display here also look very good (they were apparently recycled from a 1954 movie version of Romeo and Juliet) and contribute significantly to the story's rather convincing fifteenth century feel. 

In addition to all this lush production of the scenes set in Florence, the story also opens with some decent model work. When I first started buying old Doctor Who stories on video, I absolutely hated the spinning-model-police-box-against-a-backdrop-of-space effect, but nowadays I find it rather quaint and endearing. The surreal appearance of the TARDIS in the heart of the crystalline helix also looks rather effective, and although on first sight the red sparkler effect of the Helix energy approaching the TARDIS just looks cheap and nasty, once the story shifts to San Martino it somehow seems to fit in well. 

So why exactly do I find 'The Masque of Mandragora' vaguely unsatisfactory? The first clue lies in the acting. Gareth Armstrong is slightly wooden as Guiliano, but the rest of the guest cast is very good, especially Tim Piggott-Smith as Marco, Norman Jones as Hieronymous, and John Laurimore as Count Federico. Part of the reason these three are so good is that they seem to take the script very seriously, and that is part of my problem with 'The Masque of Mandragora'; ironically, it's taken too seriously. The principle human villains seem very earnest; Norman Jones portrays Hieronymous as seething with anger and resentment after years of ridicule and waiting to serve his dark god, and John Laurimore plays Federico as a humorless, vicious thug. They are both convincing performances and are unusually realistic in a series with more than its fair share of over-the-top ranting lunatics, but compared to villains such as for example Harrison Chase, they aren't quite mad enough to be memorable. I really wish I wasn't criticizing a Doctor Who story for having villains who are acted with conviction and restraint, but I am. Remind me about this when I review the next story…

Having recklessly criticized 'The Masque of Mandragora' for having good acting, I should point out that the real root of my problem with the story is actually the script. The fact is, the actors are quite right to take their roles seriously, because the script is rather serious. There is very little wit in this story, even from the Doctor; there are characteristic flashes of humour, such as when the Doctor casually slides an orange onto the point of a sword being waved next to his face in Episode One, but they are few and far between. With the Doctor and Sarah separated for quite a lot of the story, their usual light hearted banter is interrupted; even in 'Pyramids of Mars', when faced with Sutekh, the tension exhibited by the Doctor was occasional diffused by Sarah making half-hearted jokes, but there is little of that here. Again, I feel slightly churlish for making such a criticism, and in fairness I should point out that we do instead get some moments of very convincing concern for each other from the Doctor and Sarah. 

I have to conclude that anyone who hasn't seen 'The Masque of Mandragora' should not feel put off by my opinion of it; it may not be the most memorable story of the Hinchcliffe era, it may not boast an eccentric and charismatic villain, and it may not be the series' wittiest script, but it is a well-made and polished Doctor Who story with much to recommend it. It just doesn't quite work for me as well as I think it should.

'The Hand of Fear' is a story made memorable only by Sarah's departure and in a season boasting 'The Deadly Assassin', 'The Robots of Death', and 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang' it would probably be completely overlooked were it not for this fact. In fact, it is rather entertaining and possibly deserves slightly more recognition than it gets, but despite that it also suffers from some serious flaws. 

'The Hand of Fear' starts off badly. The early model sequence of Eldrad's obliteration module looks unpleasantly cheap and an irritating scene in which the Doctor and Sarah completely fail to become alarmed by a screeching siren and men gesticulating at them in obvious agitation quickly follows this. After this slightly rocky start however, the first two episodes are actually very good, and I can't help but be amused that when Sarah asks the Doctor where the TARDIS has landed he tells her that it is obviously a quarry. Irony on that scale cannot be accidental. The first two episodes quickly gather momentum and benefit from generally decent special effects work of the disembodied hand moving about, as well as some interesting direction. When shooting people who are under Eldrad's control, Lennie Mayne uses close-up shots of the actors walking towards camera, and this is highly distinctive. In addition, the nicely sinister incidental score adds to the effect, and on top of this there is some rather effective filmed location work for the interior of the Nunton complex. 

'The Hand of Fear' also benefits from some nice bits of characterisation. Renu Setna's Intern, who cheerfully lectures the bruised and battered Doctor on the subject of pain, is quite wonderful. Later, we get Glyn Houston's Professor Watson realizing that he could be facing a nuclear meltdown, telephoning his family for what could be the last time. This could have been a cloyingly sentimental moment, but is acted so well that it just seems quietly touching instead. 

By Episode Three however, things start to fall apart. For starters, Watson is very easily able to arrange a tactical nuclear strike on his own nuclear power plant on the coast of Britain, which frankly beggars belief. Amusingly, this is made even sillier by the fact that he and his remaining staff take shelter from the impending nuclear blast by crouching behind land rovers parked a few hundred yards away. Just when you think it can't get more moronic, Watson tells Sarah to hold her nose and open her mouth to protect herself from the blast. It seems that Bob Baker and Dave Martin haven't learnt anything more about nuclear physics since 'The Claws of Axos'. And then there's Eldrad.

In Episode Three, Eldrad works really well. Judith Paris brings an aloof alien feel to the role, and her costume (which I gather she had to be sewn into) looks pretty good. More importantly, the character of Eldrad works very well at this point. She has already caused the deaths of Carter and Driscoll during her attempt to regenerate herself, and she displays obviously violent tendencies throughout, but on the other hand the fact that she is millions of years and millions of light years from home and seemingly rather confused raises the possibility that she is just as scared as, for example, Professor Watson, and is reacting accordingly out a desperation to survive. This being the case, it is easy to believe that when she reaches Kastria she isn't going to prove to be a straightforward villain, since she seems to be a rather more complex being with interesting motivations. She is also forced to trust the Doctor, and seems to gain genuine respect for him as the story progresses. In short, Eldrad is an interesting character whose true motivations are suitably intriguing. Then she turns into Stephen Thorne. 

It has probably become clear by now that I do not like the Doctor Who work of Stephen Thorne. His horrendously melodramatic and unsubtle booming worked reasonable well in goatskin trappings for 'The Dæmons', but he was horribly amateurish as Omega in 'The Three Doctors', and little better as Maximillian in 'The Ghosts of N-Space'. Here, he is astonishingly bad as Eldrad, a character whom the script in any case reduces to the status of a clichéd ranting megalomaniac. Thorne is so ludicrously unsubtle that at one point, when Eldrad indulges in maniacal laughter, he doesn't actually laugh, he shouts "Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha!". After Paris's much more interesting and, crucially, less pantomimesque, performance, it is very disappointing that Eldrad is reduced to this, although fittingly he does have least have a large moustache, which he can possibly twirl when the situation demands. He doesn't even get a decent final scene, since the Doctor just trips him into an abyss with his scarf, but then again he doesn't really deserve one. 

Whatever shortcomings 'The Hand of Fear' has however, they are more than made up for by Sarah's leaving scene. As her final story, 'The Hand of Fear' generally works well; she gets a reasonable amount to do, since it is Sarah who first discovers the hand in the quarry and promptly gets taken over by it. In addition, there are some wonderful character moments between the Doctor and Sarah throughout, from the Doctor's uncharacteristic irritability when he's worried about Sarah in Episode One, to the pair of them admitting that each worries about the other and agreeing to be careful in Episode Three. Sarah's actual departure is probably my favourite companion-leaving scene from the entire series. Her initial tantrum, in which she sums up the various times she's been hypnotized, kidnapped, tied-up, etc, is a great summary of the bad times with the Doctor, but the hurt and disappointed look on her face when she finds out that she really does have to leave because he's been summoned to Gallifrey is a reminder that, however dangerous travelling with the Doctor might be, she also enjoys it enormously. There's a real feel in this scene that these are two best friends who aren't going to see each other again, or at least not for a long time, and that they both find it enormously painful to part company. Tom Baker gets a remarkable amount of emotion into the Doctor's line "Oh, Sarah… don't you forget me." It's a superb farewell, and the final freeze-frame shot of Sarah glancing skyward after the TARDIS dematerializes feels like a fitting tribute to one of the series' finest companions.