Carnival of Monsters is such an entertaining, imaginative story that somehow it is very hard to review. There are problems with the production, but I am prepared to be lenient on these issues because on the whole this is so enjoyable. 

The basic premise, of a machine in which whole worlds can be stored and played for the viewer's amusement, is on it's own rather clever, but Robert Holmes doesn't stop there, parodying 1920s fiction, the entertainment industry, and adding in a little politics. What would you expect from a man who most consistently deserved the accolade of best writer on the show out of all those who wrote for it?

The performances are all commendable. Jon Pertwee gets a chance to stretch his acting talents a little more than usual, now that the Third Doctor is no longer confined to Earth. It's a surprisingly varied performance and goes some way to trouncing the view that he was a somewhat one note Doctor. Michael Wisher is the best of the rest of the small but strong cast.

The production design is a tad tacky, but I won't hear a bad word said about the dinosaur who appears at the end of episode 1. Well, actually I've heard a lot of bad words said about it, but at least it makes only a minimal appearance, so no major damage is done. The Drashigs work marvellously thanks to the Radiophonic Workshop, who supply them with horrifying, eerie screams.

Carnival of Monsters will probably not worry The Caves of Androzani or The Talons of Weng-Chiang in the story polls, but I defy anyone to watch it and not get caught up in the sheer fun of it all. Good stuff!

After two fairly dire stories, 'Carnival of Monsters' is a welcome reprieve. It is well acted, well scripted, extremely amusing, and boasts great monsters. 

The plot of 'Carnival of Monsters' is suitably ingenious, engaging the viewer by presenting two seemingly unrelated scenarios, one of the Doctor and Jo arriving on board the S. S. Bernice, and the other of Vorg and his assistant Shirna arriving on the bureaucracy-choked world of Inter Minor. Gradually of course, the truth unfolds about exactly where the TARDIS has materialized and where the S. S. Bernice actually is; with this mystery solved, Holmes then introduces further sub-plots, namely the Drashigs and Kalik's schemes to usurp his brother's rule of Inter Minor. Because of the way in which Holmes structures the story, this gradually shifting emphasis throughout the story means that rather a lot seems to happen, making for an immensely satisfying four episodes. Enjoyable though the plot is however, it is the actual script that makes it come alive, as it showcases Holmes' talent for characterisation. 

All of the characters in 'Carnival of Monsters' are distinctive, the result of the excellent script combined with uniformly superb acting from the guest cast. The three principle characters on board the ship - Tenniel Evans' Major Daly, Ian Marter's John Andrews, and Jenny McCraken's Claire Daly - are well acted, and this helps to make them memorable. The script defines them in broad strokes, a necessity given that their situation results in a limited repertoire of lines. Daly is a stereotypical colonial type, worrying about etiquette on one hand (he is keen to offer the Doctor and Jo his hospitality when they first meet), whilst making sweeping and distasteful racial slurs about his plantation workers. Likewise, Andrews is a clichéd square-jawed naval officer, devoted to his ship and bravely facing the threat of plesiosaurs and drashigs alike with stern resolve. He boxes, of course, adhering strictly to Marquis of Queensbury rules. And then there is Jenny, who looks pretty on the arm of her gallant soldier, who stands bravely in front of her when danger threatens. Despite being written as such clichés, all three characters are brought alive by the actors playing them. This enhances the beauty of these characters, which is that they are on display for the entertainment of others; they are pure stereotypes, beloved by filmmakers of a certain era, and they are present in Vorg's Miniscope as examples of what Tellurians are like. 

In contrast to these deliberate ciphers, we are presented with the characters on Inter Minor. Vorg and Shirna are great characters, again very well acted by Leslie Dwyer and Cheryl Hall. Holmes seems to have a talent for creating rather shifty but generally likeable individuals, and Vorg in particular is a classic example. Desperate to try and justify the cost of his visit to Inter Minor, he generally tries (rather poorly) to con his way into the tribunal's good books, mainly by trying to confuse them or simply by lying. Particularly entertaining is his offering of a note signed by the Great Zarb, who it transpires is a wrestler and not President Zarb of Inter Minor. In this respect, Vorg is best summed up at the end, as he plays "find the lady" with Pletrac. But again, there is more to Vorg than first meets the eye; despite his often cowardly banter and frequent protestations about putting his hand into the Miniscope whilst the Drashig are loose inside, when they eventually escape from the machine, it is Vorg who leaps into action with the eradicator and dispatches them. On the other hand, whilst he is generally rather likeable at first glance, he is also both childish and selfish; realizing that the Drashigs might escape, his first instinct is to abandon the 'scope and sneak off the planet, leaving the Minorians to them. In addition, he displays no concern whatsoever for his "livestock", even in episode four; at best he is indifferent to both the Doctor's survival and his success. It is here that Shirna comes in, since she acts to a degree as his conscience, persuading him to save the Doctor and Jo at the start of episode three, and also convincing to actually bother pulling the phase two switch in episode four, thus saving them a second time. She is also notably more honest with the tribunal than Vorg. Basically, this interaction makes Vorg and Shirna the first example of the so-called "Holmes double-act" in my opinion; together, they work far better than either of them would alone. Vorg is both funnier and superficially a more interesting character than Shirna, but Shirna appeals to his better nature in such a way that he becomes more likeable than he perhaps deserves. Their most amusing moment, in my opinion, is when Vorg tells Shirna to touch a wire, and then when she gets a shock nods wisely and notes that it must be the live terminal. 

The Inter Minorians are equally interesting. Firstly, it is worth noting that Holmes has a real knack of giving the impression of a larger scale than is seen on screen when he uses an alien setting. To draw a comparison with a later studio-bound alien world in Doctor Who, consider briefly Atrios from 'The Armageddon Factor'. For all the impression we get of Atrios, it might as well be a country at war with its neighbour rather than a planet. It is a classic example of an alien planet represented by one or two small sets, with a cast of characters who might as well be on Earth. There is nothing to convince the viewer in that story that the action is actually taking place on an alien planet, save for mentions of spacecraft. In fairness to that story, this is a problem prevalent in science fiction; consider any alien planet from fiction and then start thinking about the sheer number of countries, religions, ideologies, cultures and environments on Earth and of course it becomes clear that it is virtually impossible to even begin to approach such complexity in a larger story, especially in four twenty-five minute episodes of a television show. The point of all this is that Holmes is better than any other Doctor Who scriptwriter that I can think of at managing to actually give us something of an impression of a larger world. For the sake of simplicity, it is implied that Inter Minor, as with most worlds in the series, has a single ruler whose government is in charge of the entire planet, which is of course a far cry from our current situation on Earth, but we do at least get tantalizing snippets of detail. The Functionaries serve no other purpose but to demonstrate some degree of social complexity on Inter Minor; they are very clearly second-class citizens, and they are apparently starting to rebel. We learn that Zarb has only recently opened up the planet to alien visitors, and that his new, liberal approach is at odds with the views of the more right wing citizens, including Kalik. Even this is not clear cut; however liberal Kalik considers his brother to be, he favours capitol punishment for treason, and there are vague hints that his definition of traitor includes anyone who vocally disagree with him. In short, Holmes' gives us hints of social and political unrest, which makes Inter Minor considerably more than just a studio set with a gun and peepshow in it. 

Individually, the Minorians all work very well. Peter Halliday and Michael Wisher in particular are two of Doctor Who's most reliable occasional actors, and Terence Lodge stands up well next to them as Orum. As the devious Kalik, Wisher is excellent, playing the part in a very Machiavellian manner with frequent smug looks and superior sneers, but never going over the top. Kalik's ruthlessness becomes more and more evident as the story progresses, beginning with him criticizing Zarb's policies to Pletrac and Orum, to the sudden calculating look on his face when he learns of the Drashigs' legendary reputation, and eventually his plan to allow the Drashigs out of the 'scope to satisfy his naked ambition. The fact that he consequently gets eaten immediately on doing so is thus enormously satisfying. Orum is basically Kalik's henchman, easily led and happy to follow Kalik's orders. Lodge brilliantly portrays him as a sniveling, odious figure lacking both the wit and the courage to seek power on his own, but happy to bask in Kalik's intended glory. Finally, Peter Halliday is excellent as the fussy Pletrac, who is honest and even well-meaning, but who is utterly constrained by bureaucracy and obsessed with protocol, a fact that Kalik exploits several times. 

The regulars return to form here, Jo proving useful as she again shows off her escapology skills, and generally coming across as more than just a dumb assistant. This story nicely demonstrates the genuine affection between Jo and the Doctor, chiefly through numerous minor lines dialogue and through the rapport between Katy Manning and Jon Pertwee. Having been on autopilot for the last three stories, Pertwee really seems to be enjoying himself here, possibly happy to be faced with an intelligent and interesting script. Particularly enjoyable is they way in which the Doctor pretty much dismisses the tribunal once he escapes from the 'scope, both by threatening them with official reprisals for allowing a Miniscope to operate on their planet, and generally fobbing them off. Given that much of the Inter Minor subplot has been driven by Vorg's problems with the tribunal, this does wonders for the Doctor's air of authority, which had been watered down in recent stories. 

The Drashigs are great monsters. It's actually quite unusual for Doctor Who monsters to be such literal monsters rather than alien races (hostile or otherwise), but the unintelligent, insatiable Drashigs are real monsters in the mold of dragons or other mythical beasts. They look very effective, despite being puppets, with very convincing teeth and genuinely chilling roars. The Drashigs highlight another worthy aspect of 'Carnival of Monsters', which is Barry Letts' direction. I criticized his over-enthusiastic use of CSO when I reviewed 'Terror of the Autons', but here he uses it more sparingly. CSO from this era is always noticeable, which is simply a limitation of the technology of the time, but when used well it is far less intrusive; even when the Drashigs are loose on Inter Minor, the CSO is passable, and by cutting quickly between model and CSO shots, Letts manages to use it effectively. The location work both on the ship and in the marshes also works very well. 

In summary, 'Carnival of Monsters' is a true gem and in my opinion one of the highlights of the Pertwee era.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Planet of the Daleks' is bad: really, really bad. The fact that it is so bad is triply disappointing given that it (a) features the Daleks, and (b) follows on from the rather splendid 'Frontier in Space'. In its favour, the Daleks look and sound better than they did in 'Day of the Daleks', but the Dalek Supreme undermines even that slight bonus. The whole thing is just rubbish

Things get off to a bad start in Episode One, with the revelation that the Doctor has decided to clutter the TARDIS console room with cheap and nasty self-assembly furniture. This is followed by the even more unlikely development that the TARDIS, like some kind of time travelling submarine, needs to replenish its oxygen supply on landing, a hitherto unmentioned drawback that makes the long-term viewer realize how lucky the TARDIS crew were not to unexpectedly suffocate during 'Inside the Spaceship' or 'The Mind Robber'. Even if we accept that the TARDIS is reliant on an external air-supply, it is a remarkable stroke of misfortune (or to be more accurate, a sign of very bad writing) that the first time we ever learn of this problem is when the TARDIS happens to be covered with fungus such that the Doctor cannot open the door. In addition, we are also presented with the TARDIS log, again hitherto unmentioned, which luckily for us allows Jo to indulge in some clumsy plot exposition. 

The episode continues in a similar vein. It is implied that Jo didn't realize that the Doctor had asked the Time Lords to send the TARDIS after the Daleks, even though at the end of the previous story Jo and the Doctor found out about the Daleks and then the Doctor sent a message to the Time Lords; I know that Jo's intelligence depends on who the scriptwriter is each episode, but even so, this isn't rocket science. However, if Jo had put two and two together she would never have ventured out of the TARDIS in search of help for the Doctor, and Nation would have to think up a more intelligent way to separate the pair of them. Mind you, Jo not realizing that there are Daleks around pales into insignificance next to the Doctor's seeming lapse of memory, which lasts precisely until the resolution of the Episode One cliffhanger, when he suddenly remembers that he specifically set out to find the Daleks. If I was feeling kind, I might suggest that his shocked exclamation of "Daleks!" at the end of Episode One refers specifically to the fact that he is surprised to find an invisible one, but Pertwee's performance fails to convey this, so I won't.

Episode One out of the way, the story launches into its sparse and economical plot. I use the word economical because it is largely recycled. The plot is this; there is a frozen Dalek army on the planet, and the Daleks that aren't frozen are experimenting with invisibility. The Thals want to stop them. That's it. What then follows is one-and-a-half episodes of the Thals and the Doctor separately entering the Dalek city, and then spending another one-and-a-half episodes trying to get out, before meeting up again on the surface for a bit. Then, the Doctor and the Thals spend one-and-a-half episodes getting back into the city, they blow everything up and go home. Along the way, we get a kind of sampling of Nation's greatest hits. I can excuse the Daleks bombarding Spiridon from space with bacteria ('The Dalek Invasion of Earth'), because it makes sense for them to reuse a successful technique, but everything else is just taking the piss. We have a hostile jungle planet with deadly plant life ('Mission to the Unknown', 'The Chase') inhabited by invisible creatures ('The Daleks' Master Plan'), and somebody hiding inside a Dalek casing so that they can sneak around the Dalek city ('The Mutants'). The resolution (Thals successfully sneak into the Dalek city and manage to immobilize the Daleks) is lifted directly from 'The Mutants'. The horrendously contrived romance sub-plot between Jo and Latep is a pale imitation of the sexual tension between Barbara and Ganatus from the same story; there, Nation carefully hinted at their attraction over a period of time, whereas here he forces it kicking and screaming into the final episode, with Latep suddenly spouting cheesy chat-up lines to Jo. If he was obviously just trying to get his end away, I could understand it, but this obviously wouldn't have been acceptable viewing for Saturday teatime, so instead we get some ludicrous implication that they have deep feelings for each other. Jo's brief moping in the TARDIS at the end is unbelievable; she's just been propositioned by someone she hardly knows and has only just met, but for a moment or two she acts as though she's just had her heartbroken. It's tacky, sloppy and unconvincing. Typical of 'Planet of the Daleks' in fact. Finally, whilst on the subject of recycled plot threads, we even get a rehash of a brief scene from 'The Daleks' Master Plan', when the convicts on Desperus hear a Screamer overhead; on this occasion the Thals hear some winged beast flying overhead, but the scenes are almost identical. 

The return of the Thals does not improve matters. In 'The Mutants', Nation used the Thals to address issues of pacifism and the need to fight for what you believe in. In doing so he presented the Thals as naïve but noble, and made them work through skilful characterisation. Here, they are utterly pathetic, badly-scripted clichés spouting cringe worthy lines about space medicine and doing absolutely nothing useful except providing the Doctor with rope and bombs. Bernard Horsfall is incapable of bad acting, and Prentis Hancock can play short-tempered unstable characters in his sleep, but the other Thals are unmemorable at best. Codal is the worst offender; Tim Preece makes an effort, but his character exists only so that the Doctor can piously lecture him on the subjects of cowardice and bravery. Although it must be said that the worst example of this is near the end of the story, when in a cringe-worthy monologue the Doctor asks Taron to teach his people the horrors of war. Apart from being nauseating, it's internally inconsistent; if the Thals share Skaro with the Daleks, the horrors of war should not be news to them. 

Production wise, the story looks ghastly. The jungle sets are obviously studio-bound, and contrast painfully with the location footage used in the "ice pools" scene. The plain of stones is even worse, the studio backdrop looming obviously over polystyrene rocks; the 100-watt glowing eyes of the encroaching wildlife are especially woeful. The Dalek city is OK, but even the most ham-fisted set designer should be able to manage blank, featureless corridors. The rock face in the refrigerator cavern looks tackily plastic, although it positively shines compared with the horrendous model shot of the bomb exploding, when jagged broken edges of polystyrene are actually shown. And the Thals spaceship is crap too, suggesting as it does that they shop at the same bargain furniture warehouse as the Doctor. 

There isn't much else that I can say about 'Planet of the Daleks'. Pertwee puts in a surprisingly good performance given his known dislike for Daleks and the quality of the scripts, as does Katy Manning even if her character is reduced to the status of an imbecile here. The Spiridons are pure window-dressing. In summary, 'Planet of the Daleks' is rotten and a massive letdown after 'Frontier in Space.

It has always been suggested that the Doctor’s term with UNIT did not take place during the period it was broadcast, but slightly into the future. This makes sense when one realizes how many of the Third Doctor’s exploits mirror today’s problems. Day of the Daleks confronts the issue of terrorism, while The Curse of Peladon tackles the complexities of international relations. These topics are extremely relevant to the world of 2003 even though they were broadcast in 1973. The Green Death also has much meaning for today’s world. The struggle between corporate greed and the environment is one that is being fought today, with the outcome looking not so good for the earth.

The Green Death is a cautionary tale dealing with the excess of capitalism. When miners begin to die from strange green sores, UNIT is called in to investigate. The sores are linked to waste being dumped by the Global Chemical Corporation. The waste has also caused common maggots to mutate into two-foot long giants. The Doctor discovers that a diabolical machine known as the BOSS is controlling the operation of Global Chemicals. With the help of a young Welsh biologist, UNIT and the Doctor hope to overcome BOSS and the swarm of giant larvae. 

This story boasts a fine script by Robert Sloman and producer Barry Letts. Letts’ desire to make Doctor Who topical is particularly evident here. The direction by Michael Briant is top notch; suspense and atmosphere abound in this story. The sparse design work of John Burrowes creates an industrial surrounding that is reminiscent of previous Third Doctor stories such as Spearhead from Space and Inferno. 

The regulars Jon Pertwee, Nicholas Courtney, and Katy Manning all give wonderful performances. This story marked Manning’s departure from the series. The Doctor’s reaction to Jo’s departure is one of the finest moments from Pertwee’s tenure as the Doctor. It remains one of the most touching moments from the series’ history. The supporting cast also shines. Jerome Willis is quite menacing as Stevens, the brainwashed chief of Global Chemicals. Stewart Bevan is charming and intelligent as Professor Clifford Jones, the bohemian biologist who steals the heart of Jo Grant. The cast and crew of The Green Death are key factors that make this story the classic it is.

The Doctor’s non-human foes are also notable. The giant maggots may seem silly to some, but to this reviewer they are some of Doctor Who’s creepiest creatures. Like the Autons of previous adventures, the maggots’ simplistic design makes them less sloppy looking and therefore more terrifying. They really do look like disgusting, swollen maggots. 

While the Doctor has had his share of mechanical foes, BOSS stands out from the crowd. BOSS is a rare mechanical monster because its menace comes from it being too human-like. The false humanity programmed into BOSS causes the super computer to become even more dangerous. While it makes BOSS hum tunes it also makes the computer greedy and devious. BOSS itself is a parable about the limitations of the computer. 

As holes in the ozone grow and corporate responsibility dwindles, The Green Death has a message more important than ever. The message is so skillfully delivered that it demonstrates that the “silly” children’s television show Doctor Who can be relevant to today. Because of this relevance and the quality of the story itself, The Green Death is one of the Doctor’s greatest adventures.