‘The Curse of Fenric’ is an unusual story in that the version most widely accepted by Doctor Who fans is not the version originally broadcast. Whereas extended versions of both ‘Silver Nemesis’ and ‘Battlefield’ have been released on video, neither really gained anything that was missing from the original broadcast version; ‘The Curse of Fenric’ however benefited enormously from the few extra minutes of material incorporated into the video release. More recently, the original televised version has been released on DVD, but with an impressive extra in the form of an even longer cut that has been fully reedited and includes even more footage than the previous video release. The actual story isn’t significantly altered, but both extended versions flow more smoothly than the comparatively truncated original, with the extended DVD version apparently closest to the vision of director Nicholas Mallett. None of which is massively important here, except in that it is the extended DVD release that I have watched on this occasion, which doesn’t significantly affect this review but might be of interest to the more curious reader.

Anyway, turning to ‘The Curse of Fenric’ itself, it is a story that is more difficult for me to review than might be expected. As with any Doctor Who story often described by fans of the series as a classic, there is very little that hasn’t been said about ‘The Curse of Fenric’. Partly this is because it can retrospectively be seen as the archetypal Cartmel story, the culmination of all the finest qualities that he strove to bring to the series during his tenure as script-editor and because it arguably had a far greater impact on the New Adventures than more obvious candidates such as ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’. My reasoning for this is that here we see the Doctor at his most manipulative, as he uses Ace as a pawn in a game that started long ago with an ancient evil from the dawn of time. It also sees Ace starting to grow up and develop as a character, more so than any previous story, as she confronts her feelings for her Mother, has her faith in the Doctor shattered and also starts to obviously become aware of her sexuality. ‘The Curse of Fenric’ also seems to be aimed at an older audience than that which Doctor Whois traditionally perceived to have aimed for, with doses of horror including vampires, corpses, and chemical warfare. ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is a grim and gritty story in which almost every supporting character dies and puts Ace through emotional hell. Finally, ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is also riddled with subtext, much of which writer Ian Briggs discusses in the DVD extra Shattering the Chains, and which generally concerns sex and faith. Most of this is obvious, such as the “seductive” appeal of Jean and Phyllis and Ace’s later distraction of the guard, Wainwright’s wrestling with his faith, Sorin’s faith in the Russian Revolution, and Ace’s faith in the Doctor, some less so; I’d never made the connection for example between Doctor Judson’s physical disability and Alan Turing’s homosexuality. For fans who dislike such blatant subtext in Doctor Who, ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is probably an especially bad example of all that was wrong with the Cartmel era, but for better or for worse, it signposts the direction in which Doctor Who would go in the New Adventures more clearly than any other story from the period, as a whole new generation of young writers would bring their politics and opinions to the good Doctor’s adventures. 

An exploration of the subtext within ‘The Curse of Fenric’ should not detract from appreciation of the story at its most basic level however; it is a very good slice of Doctor Who, which for the most part has aged extremely well. The plot is well structured so that suspense builds throughout the first half of the story, as questions are raised about the mission of the Russian commandoes, Commander Millington’s agenda, and the significance of the Viking curse. Once what was originally the cliffhanger to Episode Two is reached, the story shifts gear; once the Haemovores emerge onto land the remainder of the story is a fast-paced thriller, with explanations coming thick and fast as both Fenric’s and the Doctor’s plans become clear. This structure works highly effectively; there are no reprieves once the Haemovores attack as the Doctor and Ace find themselves facing threat after threat as the endgame draws near and bystanders die one by one. 

Crucial to the success of this plot is the characterisation, which allows the actions of the supporting characters, the dangers they face, and their deaths, carry real impact. The Rev. Mr. Wainwright is a case in point; he’s a tortured soul desperate to believe in the essential goodness of humanity but increasingly unable to do so against the backdrop of World War II. The scene in which he reads from the Bible is crucial to his character as it illustrates his crumbling faith far more effectively than the taunts of Jean and Phyllis, but all of this would just be so much subtext were it not for the fact that Wainwright is thoroughly likeable. The massively underrated Nicholas Parsons conveys Wainwright’s uncertainty and fear very convincingly; his bravery in facing his terror is admirable and it makes the fact that his faith ultimately proves too weak to save his life all the more poignant. Basically, all of Briggs’ characters are human; Mrs. Hardaker is an old battleaxe whose strict attitude towards her charges automatically predisposes any young (or just liberal!) members of the audience to dislike her. She throws words like sin around very easily, and shows an unshakable faith in the “good book” whilst Wainwright expresses doubt about the morality of war, which is the blind faith of somebody who unthinkingly follows doctrine rather than attempting to understand what it is they actually believe in. Janet Henfrey captures all of this perfectly, looking and sounding every inch the strict governess, and yet when Jean and Phyllis actually kill her, we briefly get to see her smiling and relaxing as she listens to music rather than the severe and apparently cold person that she has been portrayed at up until that point. Which is important, because it means she isn’t just another corpse to boost the story’s body count in a way that possibly appeals to fans that think that ‘Resurrection of the Daleks’ is “adult”, it means that she is a human victim whose death feels like a loss. 

Perception of death is very important in ‘The Curse of Fenric’. The Russian commandoes, Sorin included, are prepared to kill to succeed in their mission, but again Briggs and director Nicholas Mallett make sure that the deaths that they cause are not lightly forgotten. The home guard soldiers killed on the beach are laughing and joking as they go out on patrol and Prozorov is deeply troubled at having killed them; it doesn’t make it any easier to excuse the actions of him and his fellows, but it does explore the horrors of war in a quiet way that is rare in Doctor Who on television. Sorin is a particularly interesting character in this respect, because of what he believes in and what he does, and the way Ace responds to him. Some fans have expressed a serious misgiving about the fact that Ace is attracted to a man that embraces a regime that killed millions of people; I think this misses the point however. It’s very easy to think of Stalin and forget that originally, the Russian Revolution succeeded because Lenin had the support of many of the ordinary people. It is easy, but foolish I think to dismiss such people as “evil” out of hand; we don’t know why Sorin has such faith in the Revolution and we don’t know whether or not he is aware of the atrocities that Stalin was committing at this time. Because we don’t know these things, and because Sorin is portrayed as a man prepared to kill for what he sees as the greater good, the character becomes more powerful because the script encourages us, largely via Ace, to see him as a person and grow to like him. He is portrayed as a man of conviction and courage and Tomek Bork brings a warmth and charisma to the role, all of which helps to create conflict in the viewer. In a story in which the principle villain is “pure evil”, such muddying of moral waters makes for fascinating characterisation.

A rather less likeable character is Alfred Lynch’s Commander Millington. Like Sorin, Millington is a man prepared to kill for what he thinks is the greater good, but unlike Sorin these actions are harder to justify. Juxtaposed with Wainwright’s angst at the thought of British bombs falling on German cities and killing German children is Millington’s willingness to use a chemical weapon on a Russian city at such time as they cease to be Britain’s allies, a stance that he explains by telling the Doctor, “It could end the war”. Millington is a man who has stared too long into the abyss, whose obsession with tapping into the Nazi psyche has made him a monster; his speech about the men trapped behind a bulkhead on a burning ship is terrifying, not because it is impossible to understand, but because he uses it to excuse the deaths of the two Russians sealed in the mine shaft with the haemovores. The men who died on board the ship might well have been sacrificed to save the rest of the crew, but there is plenty of time to save let the Russians out before the haemovores reach the end of the tunnel. The deaths of the crewmen on board his old ship is uncomfortable too; there may be logic behind it but it is given an all too human perspective shortly afterwards in the shape of Kathleen Dudman’s grief over the news of her husband Frank’s death. 

‘The Curse of Fenric’ is also notable for the characterisation of the regulars; this is Ace’s best story, as she grows up noticeably, and Aldred puts in her first real decent performance. Her concern for the baby is convincing, and she manages to convey fury at the Doctor when she realises that he knows what is going on. Ace thus works as somebody to whom the audience can relate for the first time, and she gets some nice scenes; critics of the Cartmel era often dismiss her faux pasover the fact that Kathleen is married as a just another piece of the social commentary that they argue unnecessarily clutters the era, but whatever else it may be it is also a nice reminder of the period in which ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is set. I wouldn’t give a second thought to the possibility that Kathleen might be single mother any more than Ace does, but it is a reminder that this is set in an era when it was a real stigma that people were ashamed of. Having said of all this in praise of both actress and character, the scene in which Ace distracts the guard is woefully overrated; it is a self-conscious and self-satisfied piece of dialogue that doesn’t really convince and is delivered in a horribly unnatural manner by Aldred. Nevertheless, considering how bad Ace’s dialogue was in Briggs’ previous ‘Dragonfire’, her only truly appalling line here is “Who do you think you are, armpit?”

And finally there is the Doctor. ‘The Curse of Fenric’ shows the Doctor at his most manipulative, as he plays a game of chess (both literally and metaphorically) with an ancient and powerful foe, in which people die. It is often suggested that his actions here are less damning than those in ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’; certainly he doesn’t destroy any planets here, but many people fall along the wayside and whilst it can be argued that he tries to save as many people as possible as he battles Fenric, I should like to point out that there is no reason given why after their last encounter he couldn’t simply have taken the flask that he trapped Fenric in and dumped it in a black hole like he did with the Fendahl skull. In addition to which, the Doctor’s psychological abuse of Ace reaches its peak here, as he destroys her faith in him to defeat Fenric, reducing her to tears; he clearly regrets his actions afterwards as he tries to reassure her that he didn’t mean it when he called her an emotional cripple and told Fenric to kill her, but personally I’d never trust him again. None of which is a problem however, since I like this darker aspect of the Doctor, one that would reach new heights in the New Adventures. I also find it rather amusing that the chess move with which he confuses Fenric is utterly illegal, which means that he won last time by cheating… McCoy’s acting is very good here, even during his “evil from the dawn of time” speech, when he has to convey anger, something that he often has trouble with. McCoy’s Doctor broods throughout, creating the impression that he is weighed down by the choices he hasmade and is forced to make, and it works beautifully. 

Overall, ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is a story in which everything comes together. Mark Ayers’ atmospheric score is crucial to the mood of the piece and has aged very well. Nicholas Mallett does a superb job of directing, and he manages to get the best from his actors, all of whom give excellent performances, with the exceptions of Joann Kenny as Jean and Joanne Bell as Phyllis, both of whom are fine until their characters turn into vampires after which they become a bit hammy, albeit not enough to seriously compromise the production. The sets mesh perfectly with some stunning location work. The special edition benefits ‘The Curse of Fenric’ even more, as it is given a spit and polish and little details like the stakes carried by Sorin can be seen in context for the same time. Andrew Cartmel’s approach to Doctor Who reached its zenith here; ironically, only one story later, it would all come to an end…

Now I’m going to be controversial with this one, as many will know that this is one of my favourites.

The TVM is Doctor Who with the budget it deserves, and in fact a lot more. Even the new TV series will not have a budget to match this. The effects, even though nearly eight years old, stand up to scrutiny today. The plot does make sense of a kind but the story is fast paced and does not allow you to think to carefully about the flaws. I always just allow the film to carry me through in great fun.

The Movie begins with the voice over provided by Paul McGann that sets the scene for the 7th Doctor to be carrying the Master’s remains. Full marks must be given to Philip Segal for using the Doctor Who theme, it’s very effective, and the roaring build up to the title appearing gives me shivers even now. Sylvester McCoy puts in a fine performance in the little he is given to do. The scene in the TARDIS is wonderfully relaxed and has a nice atmosphere to it. The TARDIS interior is incredible, the console stretching into the ceiling is far more effective, if anything it’s perhaps a little too large, and there is a slight lack of scale involved. The Master has now formed into a jelly like mass that later becomes more reptilian, this too is effective though not explained.

As we know the Doctor is shot and taken to the hospital where he is rushed into treatment. On the way in the ambulance we are treated to Chang Lee filling out the Doctor’s name as “John Smith”. Another of Philip Segal’s nods to the past, in many ways he has got a little carried away with this, the bowl of jelly babies in the TARDIS, and the over emphasis placed on the Doctor’s reading of The Time Machine. None of this detracts from the film but could have been more subtle I think. The Doctor goes in for treatment to have the bullets removed and X-rays taken showing his hearts, a nice piece of continuity. Grace is called and it is her putting a probe into the Doctor’s body that eventually kills him. I have never really cared for the scene in the operating theatre as I find it rather graphic and just a little distressing, and the story could do with it being reduced in content. The Doctor eventually is taken to the morgue where he is later to regenerate. This is where the direction of this story is done so well, the Master’s evil possession of a human body is mixed with the regeneration of the Doctor. Also the inter-cut scenes of the Doctor awaking and Frankenstein coming to life are well done and a good touch to the story. At last – Paul McGann is the Doctor! Some would say that the film should have started with him, in many ways it was good to see the seventh Doctor out, in retrospect I’m not sure the future of the series under fox would have been different in either case. 

And the film really does become worth watching for Paul McGann’s first and apparently only time out as the Doctor. He puts in an excellent performance slipping easily into the role and establishing his own character in the short screen time available. Everything is right about this Doctor, the personality, the looks, the costume, all works so well together. Initially the Doctor wanders the hospital in a daze although I have never understood where he is, it appears to be an abandoned part of the hospital – I wish we had beds lying around like that in the NHS!

The story picks up again the next day, the Doctor searches through lockers at one point pulling out a scarf – another of Segal’s moments. This scene is also effectively combined with the less innocent searching of the Doctor’s stolen possessions by Chang Lee, who gains access to the TARDIS. The Doctor meanwhile settles upon his clothing and goes to the hospital where he meets Grace and eventually goes to her house. The scenes in the house are McGann’s best, his Doctor at rest and his interaction with Grace help define his character in the time available. The joy of life shown by the Doctor in the outdoor scenes is too very well done and then there is the kiss. Actually done very well, this slots well into the film and does not interrupt the flow, as Doctor Who goes this should really feel like it cuts across the gain, and yet it doesn’t. McGann’s Doctor carries it off well and it is very chaste and acceptable. The Doctor is now half human, and again, I find this acceptable even though I had always been under the impression that unless told otherwise, he was fully alien. But the calm of the story starts to fall away and the action theme starts to settle in. There is the memorable glass scene which I can never forget because as an eleven year old it was so effective. The “By midnight tonight this planet will be pulled inside out” line is delivered perfectly and with excellent gravitas.

When the Doctor and Grace are trying to escape the Master and Lee there is the confrontation with the policeman. At this moment the Doctor manages to get the gun off him but unlike so many American heroes he threatens to turn the gun upon himself. One can only thank that this was done, as the Doctor threatening someone innocent with a gun would have been a far greater transgression than the kiss. The motor bike sequence is completely unnecessary but is still fun but this rather makes the film into action, which Doctor Who is not really about in that way. In the Institute forTechnological and Advanced Research (How many times have I seen this film?) we get more of the friendly banter between Grace and the Doctor as they fit into the crowd while trying to steal the chip. At his point was another new development for the Doctor, the ability for him to be able to sense someone’s future, the point of this is unclear and just seems to be there to make the Doctor appear more alien.

The last part of the film takes place in the TARDIS. At this point I mention the Master and Chang Lee. Eric Roberts plays the Master, and he is given the opportunity to play the Master his way. This Master is not another Delgado clone, and really that seems a more realistic idea, I like the Roberts’ Master but he should have lost the coat because the Terminator idea falls in too much with the motorbike chase making it appear like a copy. The dialogue for the Master is very over the top and the delivery of the lines clearly shows that Roberts was having far too much fun doing the part. This new Master seems to relish death and generally having rather a lot of fun making his way through the film. I don’t mind this, but I can see why others dislike it. The character of Chang Lee never really leaves much impression as an individual and seems to follow along with the Master until the ending. At no point is he even bothered by his friends getting killed at the beginning of the film which is more than a little odd.

The final scenes set in the TARDIS are effective as the Master attempts to take the Doctor’s lives (somehow…) and the final battle between him and the Doctor over the eye of harmony are very well done. The Doctor does offer the Master his hand, not much but it is inkeeping with his character. The only part of this film that I have never really managed to swallow is the idea of the TARDIS bringing Lee and Grace back to life. The film would be better served by them not actually dying but only being stunned as they were in the novelisation. At the end of the film Lee leaves and the Doctor kisses Grace goodbye, gratuitous maybe but it is a warmer and more realistic departing of two characters than in many other Doctor Who stories. And then it’s all over, too soon the eighth Doctor comes to an end, we would have to wait years before audios were to appear, books were written but never the same as being on TV. The movie was more than most could expect, it actually feeds into continuity unlike more other proposals, and it did keep the flame alight, as Segal put it, for that night, because without it we would probably never have seen the merchandise we see now, the books, CDs and probably not even the new series. And as a last note, the thump on the console to get the TARDIS to start - that counts for a lot, this isn’t the perfect starship enterprise, it’s Doctor Who!

It was 1996 and the Beeb had sold Doctor Who to the Americans. No don’t start to cry. It turned out pretty ok for all concerned. Sylvester McCoy’s Seventh Doctor dies and Paul McGann’s Eighth Doctor is born. In the story he battles to save himself and the Earth from the Master (yes there wasn’t all that much plot but that never stopped Doctor Who before so be quiet).

It was lovely…

I remember when it came out. I think I might have wept a bit. That poncy bloke with the long hair didn’t grab me at all (forgive me, I was young, foolish and had never read an EDA). I missed Sylvester as the Doctor like the dickens and the idea of having an American Master was just too scary to contemplate. However, I found that just like green alien slime from the Earth’s core, this story grows on you (but fortunately doesn’t turn you into a hideous slavering monster).

The Beginning Sequence: Now no matter what you may think of the rest of the movie, the first three minutes of the film did have a certain allure…

For one there was Paul McGann’s accent: I once had a boss who was a Scousy (from Liverpool) and he had a lovely way of speaking – ‘Youwngiee. Geart hinto dat barr n peurr maei a vodka an doon gi mei ani gip’ - so there must be a little something in me that just loves Paul’s knockdown: Liverpool meets RADA accent. And Paul is so serious about it all. By the time he got through to the ‘it was a request they never should have granted’ bit from the introduction I was in stitches.

Then there was the music: Someone was asking what stupid silly small thing makes Doctor Who spesh for you. And I have to admit I used to have a total wobbly every time I heard the seventh Doc ‘turn table techno’ (and I still do). However this music is much more dramatic and serious. Even now after eight years I am still going – ‘yes yes yes – Doctor Who is back and he is going to kick Dalek butt’ before I remember that that was all along time ago and sadly it never happened. But this music is the sort of stuff that gets men across the Delaware. 

All in all it was a great beginning. The only down side I think was that they hired the chipmunks to voice the Daleks, but it is good to see Alvin and the gang getting some work.

Next we come to good old Syl:

Sylvester McCoy looks like a complete tosser in this movie? Now I love Sylvester and have my axe always handy for those namby pamby little cowards who think it is cool to pick on the little fellow with the silly jumper, but I am going to do a Janet Fielding and say: ‘Whart was thart on hs haird?. Thairt haire kut dowes nowt soot heim’. However there was a trade off in the fact that finally Syl was free of John Nathan Turner and his John Nathan Turneresque views on fashion: So no question mark jumper. 

But Sylvester does play an integral part in this movie. He came from England – all the way across the Atlantic – to fall into some bin bags and die so that Paul McGann could take over the mantle. And, seriously folks – it was a lovely gesture. If ever there was a testament to how much Doctor Who means to people, it is a plucky little Scottish git traveling five thousand miles to ‘do what he thought was right’ by Doctor Who. And that also makes this film spesh.

The Companions:

I admit I never really warmed to Grace. Yes she looked good in that blue dress and she has nice taste in music, but she seemed so boring – the cardigan of companions if you like. She wasn’t popping out all over the place (and I don’t mean out to the shop) like Peri, she wasn’t totally obnoxious like Tegan, she wasn’t a total wierdo like Turlough, she just ‘was’. I can theorise it would be a very hard brief for an American actor to get lumbered with the job of being the Doctor’s companion. Because of the unique origins of Doctor Who the whole concept might seem very alien (if you will pardon the pun) to your average American Daphne who has grown up on a diet of Leave it to Beaver and The A Team…

‘So there is this guy who travels the universe in a phone booth accompanied by chicks who have a propensity to scream and sprain their ankle a lot… and every planet he visits looks like a quarry.’

She must have wondered ‘now how exactly do I play this one’? If the series had continued I can just imagine the poor woman asking the director ‘so how do I react to the giant space frog again?’ However the upshot of this is she just tends to act totally bemused as she tries to cope with this bizarre Englishman who has inserted himself and about thirty years of baggage and in jokes into her life. The look on her face after the Doctor has done his ‘these shoes, they fit perfectly’ spiel is worthy of any good cartoon character and almost does a Tom Baker ‘lets break the fourth wall’ - and that bit alone makes the film worth while. But when she is not playing ‘oh dear this is all too much, I need a couple of asprin and a good lie down’ she might surprise you… 

Chang Lee. Finally someone to make Nyssa’s acting look credible (even good). And even now I still have an abiding hatred for his cod awful jacket. His performance in this movie is a living testament as to why drama school is a good thing.

Anthony Ainley he is not:

‘My name is not Honey’ – wow. No offence to Eric, but he was just odd. Maybe it was the script – ‘I must have the Doctor’s body, I need to explain the plot – right now’. Maybe it was the high heels. Maybe it was the leather outfit: I have never ever seen a paramedic dressed as Neo from the Matrix. All the ones I have seen have stethoscopes and comfy clothes. And this annoyed me. Here we have this guy who looks like he has escaped from (insert suitable dark tv show or movie) and no one in the story notices a thing. I realise he has to be a bit menacing, but Anthony Ainley managed to do it with a few laughs and all while wearing crushed velvet pantaloons. Why does this guy have to go the full bondage? But to be fair Eric does some seriously evil smiling and just like Jack Nicholson at the Oscars he wears his sunglasses in inappropriate places.

Bruce:

I cannot believe they named the ambulance man whose body the Master nicks Bruce. I am sorry, but you cannot have a character in a serious drama (or even a sci fi) called Bruce. It is soo Monty Python territory. I reckon Eric hated it as well – first chance he gets he explicitly states he ‘is not Bruce’.

These shoes… They fit perfectly

There is a theory in drama. All you need is one really good bit and people will remember that, forget the crap bits and go away raving. Actually that is not really a theory. I just made it up. However it is true. Whenever I think about this movie I always remember the park scene. People complain that McGann was ‘The Doctor Lite’ - the diet cola of Doctors, and so forth, but you can’t always be a planet destroying sad sack can you? Sometimes you have to take pleasure in the little things that make being the Doctor so much fun, ie Shoes and having it off with Lalla behind the catering van during the filming of City of Death... that sort of thing.

And that brings us to Paul McGann…

I am going to say I thought he was wonderful. But then again I would probably watch a half hour show of Paul McGann reading the newspaper. I think McGann was as gobsmacked as everyone else was when he landed the role. He is not – erm – anything like any Doctor we had had before. When you think that here is a Scousy boy with a shaved head dressed up as a Victorian ponce with a long haired wig, even if you don’t agree with his interpretation of the Doc, you have to say that this boy can act. 

The Puzzling Bits…

Get that boy to an optometrist:

Every so often in the movie we see things from the ‘Doctor’s perspective’. Now either that guy was totally smashed for the whole movie or he has a serious eye problem. It looked as if he was seeing the world from the bottom of a vodka bottle. People would lurch in and out of his line of sight with an alarming randomness. No wonder he couldn’t pilot the TARDIS all those years – HE COULD’T SEE THE BLIKNIN BUTTONS! Judging by this film it is a wonder he could even find the door. But this does explain why the poor boy was so skittish for half of the movie. You wold be a bit worried if everyone was coming towards you like zombies from a bad Hammer horror movie too!

Fanwank carried to the ludicrous:

Where did he get the jelly babies from? I realise this is an important bit of total fanwank for the British creators, but not only did the sudden appearance of a bag of jelly babies have no relevance to an unsuspecting American public, it made no sense. The man did not even have shoes! How did he acquire a bag of anachronistic sweets? Did he pop out to the sweet shop before or after he realised he had medical probe inserted into his chest? Any why didn’t he notice that probe before anyway. I really think I would pick up on a piece of ‘primitive wiring’ stuck in my chest – right away! Are sweet shops even open at nine PM on New Years Eve in San Francisco? Did he make Grace stop off at a Seven Eleven on the way home to pick some up? 

San Francisco was awfully flat. I swear remember reading something about hills in Tales of the City?

Conclusion:

If I had one chance to go back in time… I’d go back and do something to Rosanne Barr. Not that I have anything against her personally, but every time I watch this movie I am saddened at what might have been. The pilot was never picked up because it went up against a very emotional episode of Rosanne and failed to get the ratings it needed. It would have strange. It would have been different. For some it would have never been as good as the old series. But it sadly did not ever get a chance to ‘be’ anything. 

The DVD bit:

The DVD I have has some groovy extras. There are some interviews with Syl being his normal diplomatic self and trying to explain it all for the unsuspecting American public – there’s this bloke and he travels through time and space in a big blue box… no really… it’s good’. 

There is also a great interview with Paul McGann saying how he wouldn’t go near a Doctor Who convention even if you super glued him to a Dalek, cos the fans are just too scary (just what had Syl been telling him, from what I heard Syl was the driving force behind that pool party). 

Sometimes I wonder about McGann. Here is this big Scousy dude terrified of a bunch of people who like to dress up like the Doctor and discuss telesnaps…. Ummm, how bad did you think it was going to get? Fortunately now he does do the odd convention and will continue to do them as, so far, no one has leapt on him yet and frightened him off (Actually I think they just took him out for afternoon tea and fed him cinnamon buns). 

The bloke who does this commentary has the wit of Oscar Wilde’s turnip (but not the interesting turnip shaped like a thingy). 

Why this movie is important:

Simply for the fact that if you pick up an Eighth Doctor Adventure story you will see Paul McGann’s face slathered across it. A lot of people will say that the Eighth Doctor is a literary creation, but I reckon it would be nice to see the bloke who inspired it all – eh?

‘These shoes… they fit perfectly’

And besides, he is a lovely Doctor.

'Warriors of the Deep' is not an especially popular story, and this is often attributed to a decent script let down by poor production values. But personally, I'm not even that enamoured of the script, and whilst I do quite enjoy 'Warriors of the Deep', it is deeply flawed in many aspects. 

Firstly, I'll discuss the Silurians and the Sea Devils. The nature of the Silurians is such that any story in which they feature potentially offers a moral dilemma for the Doctor; the Silurians, after all, have a legitimate claim to Earth, and they want it back. Humanity also has a legitimate claim to Earth and they don't want to give it back. Whilst some humans and some Silurians might be willing to share the planet, others would not; given the racial intolerance between different races of humans, the possibility that the world's human population would accept another species is sadly unlikely. The consequence of which is inevitably bloodshed; this was the case in 'Doctor Who and the Silurians' and 'The Sea Devils', and it's the case here. The result of which means that the Doctor can almost certainly never achieve the peaceful solution he'd prefer, meaning that he inevitably has to take sides with one of two species neither of which he is a member. Since the Silurians (or in their debut, some Silurians) keep attempting genocide, he usually of course sides with the humans. This moral quandary is central to the story potential of the Silurians, but the only reason I know that is because I've seen 'Doctor Who and the Silurians' and 'The Sea Devils'; the much-vaunted script of 'Warriors of the Deep' does bugger all with the concept.

This is my main criticism of 'Warriors of the Deep'; there is no dissenting voice amongst the Silurians or Sea Devils, they are all committed to genocide. A new viewer has no real reason to sympathize with their plight, since Byrne's only acknowledgement of it is in a mere handful of lines. The Doctor talks of the honourable nature of the two reptile races, but we see little of it on screen. Ichtar's talk of offering the hand of friendship twice before is not elaborated on and therefore has little impact and his actions unfortunately speak far louder than words. By the end, with everyone dead save for the Doctor and his companions, the Doctor's quiet assertion that "there should have been another way" is presumably an attempt to inspire regret at the lack of a peaceful solution, but the hostility of the Silurians and Sea Devils throughout has been such that it might more reasonably provoke the response "Yes, you should have bloody well flooded the base with hexachromite gas two episodes earlier Doctor!". Incidentally, whilst this is irrelevant to the success or lack therefore of 'Warriors of the Deep', I also find it quite amusing that the continuity on display is clearly aimed at long term fans, but only long term fans would realize that the continuity is crap; allegedly, Ichtar is meant to be the Silurian Scientist from 'Doctor Who and the Silurians', but this doesn't really work and neither does his description of past encounters with humanity. The most sensible assumption for anyone who feels worried by this is that Ichtar is describing an untelevised adventure, and indeed Gary Russell's 'The Scales of Injustice' plugs this gap nicely! But anyway, back to the matter in hand… 

Criticisms of the script bring me to hexachromite, an obvious plot contrivance introduced far too early on and almost embarrassingly convenient (Lethal to all reptile and marine life you say? Lucky you had some lying around then…). And whilst I'm on the subject, the equally convenient realization that there are ventilation shafts big enough to crawl through running throughout the base seems equally contrived; it's a clichй common to other Doctor Who stories, including the superb 'The Ark in Space', but with such a weak script as the one here, it strikes me as more of a cheap plot device than usual. 

The remainder of the plot concerns the function of the Sea Base and its role in Earth's political situation in the year 2084, and it is a bit better handled than the Silurian plot. The idea of two opposing power blocs was very topical at the time, but the handling of it here renders it slightly moronic; the decision to keep these two power blocs unspecified results in some clumsy dialogue as Nilsen claims that he works for the power bloc opposed to the Sea Base as though he's forgotten what it's called. Still, the world poised on the brink of nuclear Armageddon makes for a suitably morose backdrop to the story and this comes over reasonably well. It is quite well known that Byrne wanted gloomy, cramped sets to evoke the feeling of a submarine and to convey the fact the Sea Base and its personnel are operating under desperate conditions, but instead he gets brightly lit gleaming sets. Despite this, the air of tension on board the Sea Base is well handled due to the characterisation, especially of Maddox, a student forced prematurely into the role of Synch Op for which is he is patently unsuited. Martin Neil's twitchy, sweaty performance is superb, effectively creating the impression of a man in a vital role who is unable to cope with his newfound responsibilities. The desperate situation is made plain throughout, the need for radio silence to be maintained meaning the Sea Base personnel are forced to fight an enemy that totally outclasses them, and also forcing Vorshak to release Maddox's conditioning disc. 

But whilst the script does reasonably well at depicting the difficult conditions under which the Sea Base has to operate, certain members of the guest cast do not help. Ian McCulloch's Nilsen is quite effective, since he seems to be genuinely driven by duty and ruthless rather than sadistic. His co-conspirator unfortunately is less impressive; Ingrid Pitt hams it up in the role of Solow, culminating in a deeply embarrassing karate attack on the Myrka. Nigel Humphreys' down-to-earth Bulic is rather good and as the pragmatic Vorshak, Tom Adams brings a certain authority to the role, but as the story progresses it becomes clear that his performance is a bit too laid back. By the time Vorshak tells Ichtar that he won't be responsible for the destruction of his own kind, he sounds like he's complaining about the weather. 

The regulars are reasonably well used, save for Tegan who does little except follow the Doctor around so that he can explain things to her. The Doctor himself comes over very well, Davison putting in a frantic performance as the Doctor strives in vain for a peaceful solution. His near drowning at the end of Episode One is well realised although his surrendering of his gun in order to gain Vorshak's trust is hardly original, the same trick having been used several times before in the series. Turlough is very well used; his innate cowardice is explained here as pragmatism, as he twice abandons the Doctor because he genuinely believes that his friend is dead and he doesn't fancy throwing his own life away for the sake of a futile gesture. When he believes that he can help however, he does; when he pulls a gun on Nilsen to force him to open the airlock door and thus save the Doctor and Tegan he puts his own life at risk because he knows it might work. 

And what of the often-criticized production? The extensive sets are actually very good they just aren't what Byrne wanted. The costumes of the Sea Base personnel have aged very badly, and the big hair and eye shadow firmly place this story in the midst of the nineteen eighties. The Silurian and Sea Devil costumes are rather poor; the redesigned Silurians look the worst, appearing cross-eyed; the controversial decision to have their third eyes flash when they speak merely highlights the fact that the actors are unable to make it clear that they are speaking in the inflexible costumes, whereas this wasn't a problem in 'Doctor Who and the Silurians'. Their new voices are also poor, making them sound like Cybermen (especially since Ichtar keeps saying "Excellent!"). The Samurai Sea Devils are truer to their originals as are their voices, but the costumes fit poorly and the actors waddle about in a cumbersome fashion, which makes them look more comedic than they did in 'The Sea Devils'. The much-derided Myrka does indeed look quite bad, although no worse than many other large monsters in Doctor Who. In fact the overly flexible airlock door is far more irritating; surely the designer could have used something that wobbled less? On the other hand the model work is excellent, especially that used for the Sea Base. Jonathon Gibbs' incidental score is also very good, and helps to salvage the atmosphere somewhat, but it isn't enough. 'Warriors of the Deep' is strangely enjoyable, but it is also deeply flawed and overall proves to be a weak start to Season Twenty-One.

What can I say about 'The Robots of Death' that hasn't been said before? Very little, actually. It is entirely deserving of its impressive reputation, and not only continues but also arguably elevates the high quality of the season since 'The Deadly Assassin'. In virtually every aspect, this story is a triumph.

The plot of 'The Robots of Death' combines a classical "whodunit" plot with an unstoppable group of killers, to produce a tense and claustrophobic story that never lets up. From the moment Chub is killed in Episode One, the tension mounts, as the human crew of the Sandminer desperately strive to find out whom the murderer is, only to be presented with the appearance of two highly suspicious stowaways in the form of the Doctor and Leela. The Doctor rapidly deduces that the robots on the Storm Mine are the real killers, but although the viewer already knows this, the emphasis then shifts to the mystery of exactly who is controlling them. It becomes clear in Episode Three, when Dask's distorted but recognizable face is seen on a monitor as he seizes control of SV7 (although admittedly I've watched this story with non-fans and they haven't recognized David Bailey's face behind that swirling red effect, so perhaps it is more obvious with foreknowledge), but by this point the pace of the story is such that it no longer matters. The pacing of the story is superb, as the death-toll mounts and more and more robots become killers, before reaching a suitably dramatic climax as the Doctor faces off against Taren Capel in his lair. To top it all off, the idea of using helium to defeat Taren Capel by altering the pitch of his voice so that the robots no longer recognise him is nicely ingenious. I have two minor criticisms of the plot, and in fact the entire story; the first is that the Doctor tells Uvanov and Toos not to let anyone onto the control deck, but doesn't bother to tell them that Dask is Taren Capel. This is obviously to maintain the surprise for any viewers who didn't recognise his face in Episode Three and haven't deduced that Dask is the villain by process of elimination, but in story terms it makes it seem as though the Doctor just can't be bothered to warn them, which nearly results in Uvanov opening the door and letting in both Dask and an army of robot killers. The second is the near-destruction of the Sandminer at the climax to Episode Two; this makes for a memorably dramatic cliffhanger, but raises the question of who is responsible. Initially, I thought that the damage to the motive units was caused accidental by Borg's death, but then one of the Vocs states that the drive linkages have been sabotaged. It seems that without the Doctor's intervention, the Sandminer would have been destroyed as a result, which is unlikely to have benefited either Taren Capel or his robots. Nevertheless, these minor flaws do not significantly detract from the story.

The script is superb, filled with great characters and excellent lines. The Doctor gets some of the best, my favourite being "You're a classic example of the inverse ratio between the size of the mouth and the size of the brain". D84 also gets his fair share, including "Would you like to use it? I cannot speak", and of course "Please do not throw hands at me". The characterisation is uniformly impressive, with both regulars coming across especially well. The Doctor is at his most authoritative and resourceful, starting out as a murder suspect but quickly gaining the trust of first Poul and then Toos and eventually Uvanov. His flippant attitude to personal danger is highlighted when he casually explains to Uvanov at the end of Episode Three that the advancing Voc has either followed Uvanov or homed in on the Doctor's communicator, cheerfully noting "It depends which one of us it's going to kill first". On the other hand, his concern for others is also strongly in evidence, as he instructs Leela to help Toos, carries Uvanov to safety whilst being chased by a homicidal machine, and befriends D84. Leela's character builds on the promise shown by 'The Face of Evil', as she is taken out of her natural environment and is thrust into an alien world that she doesn't understand; taking it in her stride, she seems to delight in learning from the Doctor and from her experiences and when threatened with danger she tackles it with the same resolution and fearlessness that she showed in her debut story. As in 'The Face of Evil', her desire to learn and the Doctor's willingness to teach, mean that aspects of the plot are explained to the audience in a way that doesn't seem contrived. And I love their first scene together in the TARDIS, as the Doctor tries to explain transdimensional engineering to her, before dismissing it as a very boring subject. 

The supporting characters are also impressive, and the guest cast shines. Gregory de Polnay's D84 almost steals the show, as he (ironically) shows very human character development under the Doctor's influence, and with a robot companion not far in the series' future, I can't help wishing that he'd survived and joined the Doctor and Leela in the TARDIS. Nevertheless, he makes an impression, and is final line as he sacrifices himself ("Goodbye… my friend") is touching. Uvanov, brilliantly portrayed by Russell Hunter, is another great character, starting off as a seemingly self-centered and rather mercenary character that values money over people, but proving under duress to be rather brave and heroic. In fact his attitude towards the robots in Episode Four amusingly smacks of indignation that they've had the cheek to become killers, more than anything else. David Collings, freed from the limitations of the execrable 'Revenge of the Cybermen', puts in a great performance as under-cover agent Poul, who pays the price for deciding to listen to the Doctor by having his greatest fears confirmed and losing his sanity as a result, and Pamela Salem is also impressive as Toos. All of the cast are very good, even those with relatively minor roles. Tania Rogers' Zilda could have just been another murder victim, but thanks to Boucher providing the subplot of her brother's death, she serves a greater purpose as she casts suspicion on Uvanov, inadvertently helping Taren Capel to maintain his secrecy for longer. Brain Croucher's Borg, Tariq Yunis' Cass, and Rob Edwards' Chub, despite all being killed relatively swiftly, are characters in their own right, and contribute significantly to the very human bickering in Episode One, firstly as Chub winds up Borg and argues with the icy Dask, and secondly after Chub's death as suspicion and doubt bring all the tensions in the group to the surface. 

David Bailey does a very good job as Taren Capel, and his performance as "Dask" in the first three episodes nicely highlights the "verbal and physical precision" that enables the Doctor to work out that he is Capel without being obvious. Once he stands revealed as Capel, he convincingly portrays the suppressed anger and ultimately, confusion, of the character without going over the top, and of course it is suitably ironic that it is only at this stage, when his obsession with robots becomes clear, that he allows himself to show emotion. Taren Capel is a lunatic, but a lunatic with an interesting background and motivation, as it is revealed that he was raised by robots and believes himself to be one of them. Unusually for Doctor Who, he also seems to be genuinely self-delusional, rather than just a stock megalomaniac; for all that he wants to free the robots from human control, they simply come under his control instead, and it is rather ironic that he rams a laserson probe into the brain of the only robot on the Sandminer who genuinely seems to display independent thought. His death at the hands of SV7 is thoroughly appropriate; for all that he has offered it freedom, it is still a slave to its programming, and unable to recognise its voice it cannot distinguish him from any other human. 

In terms of production, 'The Robots of Death' is famously rather magnificent. The actual robots, gorgeously designed in parody of the humans they serve, work very well, their polite voices as they kill people making them more sinister than for example the overtly threatening Cybermen. The set design is also excellent, providing a futuristic technological environment that is not, as is often the case in Doctor Who, sterile and functional, but designed with aesthetics in mind. The costumes (and make-up) of the human characters mesh perfectly with the sets, creating an air of decadence and indulgence. Michael E. Briant's direction is first-rate, making great use of special effects (which have aged astonishingly well) as well as inventive camera angles and scene cuts. The model work, which has probably aged the least well of any aspect of the story, nevertheless works well enough, and also meshes well with the sets. Finally, I have to mention Dudley Simpson's incidental score, one of the finest of his career on the series, which adds to the tension and drama considerably.

After three such strong Doctor Who stories in a row, and particularly one as near-flawless as 'The Robots of Death' it is almost unfeasible to think that the production team could maintain this level of quality, let alone top it. Nevertheless, the story that follows is not only my highlight of the season, but also my favourite Doctor Who television story of all time…

The Discontinuity Guide sums up 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang' with the quotation, "I may have had a bash on the head, but this is a dashed queer story". It is entirely fitting; 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang' combines giant rats, a killer ventriloquist doll with the brain of a pig, a disfigured madman from the future, and a villainous oriental magician, in a Victorian period setting. The first time I ever saw 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang' it became my favourite Doctor Who story of all time, and after many, many repeated viewings it has remained so. With a great villain, superb supporting characters and Tom Baker on top of his game, it summarizes everything that is great about the Hinchcliffe era. 

'The Talons of Weng-Chiang' is often compared to the adventures of Sherlock Holmes, but as Andy Lane pointed out, the Doctor's costume aside it owes far more to Sax Rohmer's Fu Manchu novels. As anyone who has read any of these will know, Rohmer's novels feature an evil oriental genius who uses his Elixir vitae to extend his lifespan and is served by the Si-fan, essentially a Triad. In some respects, Magnus Greel resembles Fu Manchu, since he is an evil scientist who uses his organic distillation plant for the same ends as the Elixir vitae, and is served by his own equivalent of the Si-fan, the Tong of the Black Scorpion. But Li H'sen Chang shares some of the attributes of Fu Manchu, most notably in the way that he is portrayed; Chang is played by English actor John Bennett (who puts in a highly impressive performance), and whilst it is rather unusual from a twenty-first century perspective to see an English actor made up to look Chinese, this acts (intentionally or otherwise) as a visual nod to Christopher Lee's portrayal of Fu Manchu in several films. In addition, there are thematic links to Rohmer's work; the Fu Manchu novels are very much a product of their time and are typified by their "yellow peril" mentality, with Rohmer's oriental anti-hero on one hand thoroughly evil, whilst on the other treated with a strangely contrasting air of grudging respect and almost awe. This is perhaps a literal example of xenophobia, as the Chinese in Rohmer's novels are portrayed as an alien but honourable culture with strange and exotic customs. There are nods to this dichotomy in 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang'; Litefoot describes the Chinese as inscrutable and uses politically incorrect terms such as "Chinks" and "Wongs", whilst also fondly remembering his upbringing in Peking, treasuring the gifts from the Emperor to his family, and marveling at the use of fireworks at his father's funeral. In addition, Holmes seems to be knowingly poking fun at the stereotyping that he himself incorporates into his script, with Chang dryly remarking, "I understand we all look the same", and "The bird has flown - one of us is yellow". 

Chang is an effective villain, and unusually for a secondary villain is very well characterised; few villains in Doctor Who repent their sins before they die, but Chang is one such example. Having blindly served Greel for many years, his master's betrayal cuts deep, as he humiliates Chang publicly by introducing Casey's corpse into his stage show. Chang's realization that he has long served a monster is completed when one of the rats drags him to his lair and he finds himself in a "charnel house" full of human remains. Chang's repentance in no way excuses the fact that he has led many a young woman to a grisly death, but it stands as an interesting and effective piece of characterisation. Bennett's performance makes it doubly successful, and he excels in his many scenes, particularly the stage show in Episode Four, as he plays a game of cat and mouse with the Doctor; not only does Bennett make a great villain, he also makes a convincing stage magician! 

Mr. Sin is another memorable Holmes' creation, fulfilling the traditional role of murderous henchman, but with a considerable twist. The Peking Homunculus is an exercise in grotesquerie, a homicidal robot dwarf with the brain of a pig and the appearance of a large, if rather repulsive, doll. It's technological origin fits in perfectly with the era from which it supposedly hails, whilst its appearance is somehow appropriate to its Victorian surroundings in the story. As the token monster, it excels, snorting and cackling horribly as it kills or anticipates death, and the Doctor's grave warning as to the danger it represents are realized in Episode Six, as its bloodlust finally builds to a crescendo and it slaughters Greel's men when they enter the room. To a lesser extent, this is also shown by the fact that it turns on Greel, although this is also motivated by self-preservation, since unlike Greel it listens to the Doctor's insistence that the Zygma experiment is appalling dangerous. With two such memorable villains, 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang' is already ahead of its game, but it is Michael Spice as Magnus Greel, alias Weng-Chiang, who really steals the show. 

Magnus Greel is a truly loathsome villain. Like Morbius in 'The Brain of Morbius' (voiced of course, by Michael Spice), and the Master in 'The Deadly Assassin', Greel is motivated not by power and conquest, but by an overwhelming need to survive. To this end, he will stop at nothing; he thinks nothing of murder of the abducted girls for the sake of his well being, dismissing them as "slatterns" and treating them as mindless cattle; in Episode Five he literally compares them to food. In addition, his desperation is such that he frantically denies the Doctor's warnings about the failure of the Zygma experiments, and this denial threatens to destroy a large area of London. Throughout the first five episodes, he is portrayed as a malingering ghoul, hiding in the shadows in a dank subterranean lair, where he feeds on the life energy of helpless victims. The entire script is geared to emphasize that Greel is utterly depraved; the Doctor and Leela refer to him as a "blackguard", "a gangrenous vampire" and "an underground crab". To add an extra dimension of degeneracy to his character, his chosen victims are all young women; there seems to be no particular reason for this, save that he prefers preying on young women to young men. Significantly, he strips his victims, including Leela, to their underwear before placing them in his machine. Everything about Greel reeks of evil; like the Master in 'The Deadly Assassin', he is physically as well as morally twisted. He is quick to dismiss Chang, who it is suggested nursed him back to health and has served him loyally for many months, with great rapidity when Chang makes mistakes, but not satisfied with dismissing him for his failure, he also gleefully decides to publicly humiliate his faithful servant, seemingly on the spur of the moment. He's unrelentingly sadistic, and Holmes' script allows him to be a rare example of a villain who can choose not to kill his enemies so that he can make them suffer instead, without it seeming contrived. The fact that he begs piteously when faced with death almost adds insult to injury. And then, as if all this wasn't enough, we get the revelations about his past in Episode Six. 

Throughout 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang', the Doctor discusses his enemy with an air of utter contempt, but in Episode Six when he finally learns exactly who his enemy is, Baker manages to convey whole new levels of disgust. It is testament to Holmes' talents as a writer that in one short scene, he uses a few lines to imply so much about Greel that his atrocities in the story up until that point almost pale in comparison. References to "the infamous minister of justice" and "the butcher of Brisbane" paint a picture of a monster, evoking images of the worst crimes of the Third Reich. Thousands of "enemies of the state" were, we are told, slaughtered in his organic distillation plant. By the end of Episode Six, Greel stands as one of the series' most memorable, and most despicable, villains; his final scenes, as he desperately tries to bargain with the Doctor, and is betrayed by Mr. Sin, are wholly fitting. Greel doesn't die spectacularly or dramatically; already near to death, he dies pleading and is hoist by his own petard as the Doctor throws him into the machine that he has used to kill so many others. Spice is perfect in the role, playing the part with melodrama, but never quite going over the top, even when he utters the immortal line "Let the talons of Weng-Chiang shred your fleeeeesh!" Visually, he's also striking, leather-masked and silver-robed, (with an obvious homage to The Phantom of the Opera in Episode Two) limping painfully about with filthy, scabrous hands. 

In addition to these memorable villains, 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang' boasts two of the most celebrated supporting characters in the series' history, which form perhaps the finest example of the so-called "Robert Holmes double act". Professor George Litefoot and Henry Gordon Jago, played to perfection by Trevor Baxter and Christopher Benjamin, respectively. Litefoot is the perfect Victorian gentlemen, dignified and distinguished, and with impeccable manners. The scene in which he gnaws on a leg of meat so as to avoid embarrassing the similarly-feasting Leela is charming, and shows that his air of chivalry is no act; indeed, despite initial astonishment at Leela's talk of knife-blows, he seems genuinely charmed by her throughout. He also provides reliable support for the Doctor, proving resolutely courageous throughout as he tries his best to tackle murderous Tong members and Greel himself. Jago is more the ostensibly comic figure, characterised by bluster and pompous, flamboyant verbiage. Despite his enormous ego in the early episodes (he refers to his great character several times, most amusingly during the scene in which he compares his supposedly implacable will to "the Rock of Gibraltar", just before the Doctor hypnotizes him), Jago is easily terrified, and is forced to admit that he is not so "bally brave" as he likes to pretend whilst imprisoned with Litefoot. To his enormous credit however, he proves correct Litefoot's faith in him, playing a key role in the climax, as he distracts Mr. Sin with a terrified squawk of "I say! I say! I say!" so that Leela can go for the gun, which she eventually uses to destroy the Eye of the Dragon. Jago is thus that bravest of people, someone who is afraid but overcomes it to act bravely when he needs to. 

Amidst all these fine performances, Tom Baker and Louise Jameson still manage to shine. Baker puts in one of his finest performance, and one of the last of his more balanced performances as the Doctor prior to the series' shift in emphasis towards humour. He displays his usual talent for wit throughout, with his deadpan humour making the best of hugely entertaining scenes such as his insistence that Litefoot's Chinese fowling piece is made in Birmingham. In addition to wit, he has some of his most commanding scenes in this story; the Doctor's utter contempt for Greel is almost tangible in Episode Six, and I also love his psychological duel with Chang in Episode Four, as he participates in his stage show. The look on his face as he moves the pack of cards towards his face positively dares Chang to shoot him. He's also at his most commanding, effortlessly gaining the trust of Litefoot and Jago, and also easily taking command in the police station after the Tong member commits suicide, despite having been treated with great suspicion by the "flat-footed imbecile" of a policeman only moments before. As in 'Pyramids of Mars', he also bristles with nervous tension as he desperately races to stop Greel from using the Zygma cabinet. And his costume, which really is a nod to Sherlock Holmes, is great. Leela too is superb here; thrust into an environment almost as alien to her as the Sandminer, she struggles to make sense of it, and this allows Holmes to poke fun at Victorian etiquette with glee, especially in her scenes with Litefoot. As usual, her warrior nature also comes to the fore, and she briefly clashes with the Doctor after killing his would-be assassin with a Janis thorn in Episode One; I love the way he sheepishly stops lecturing her about killing after she points out that her victim was trying to kill him. In addition, her hatred of Greel is very convincing, as she constantly swears to avenge the victims of "bent-face", and her defiance in the face of death in Episode Six is rather impressive. Her softer side is also on display here too though, she seems fascinated by the theatre and by Litefoot's sense of chivalry, and the scene in which she shyly displays her new Victorian dress to the Doctor and Litefoot (leaving them both briefly speechless) is charming. She also screams for the first time worth mentioning, revealing that it takes being attacked by a ten-foot long giant rat to really rattle her. Which is fair enough, really. 

The production is superb; the mist-shrouded location footage meshes perfectly with the splendid sets, to really evoke the desired period costume. It's also authentically seedy, with on screen use of opium, and Teresa obviously a prostitute. Dudley Simpson's incidental score is just as impressive as that for the previous story. Admittedly the rat looks too cuddly, but it's only briefly seen and David Maloney makes a sterling effort to hide the limitations of the prop. To be honest though, it's offset by so much that is good here that I can entirely forgive it! The last story of the Phillip Hinchcliffe era, 'The Talons of Weng-Chiang' is for many fans the xenith of his tenure on the show. For me, it's more than that; it's the jewel in the crown of the entire television series. It also heralds a change; with Graham Williams taking over as producer, a more light-hearted, less gothic horror oriented direction lay just round the corner. The change would be dramatic, but fortunately not too abrupt; Season Fifteen would prove to feature stories typical of both producers' styles, serving as a transitional stage between the two…