Daleks should be seen, but not heard. It’s the voice. It is truly atrocious. I suppose it is ok for the odd ‘exterminate’, but just imagine a half hour lecture on existential philosophy? So we were really lucky with this little sucker (or should that be plunger) because we got to see just the right amount of Daleks in a really interesting story.

This episode was another of those ‘commemorative’ milestone stories that they drag out every so often, sort of like the James Bond film – ‘Die Another Day’ – full of homage to its own history. If you have seen ‘Die Another Day’ you will also know that this concept can go horribly wrong. You can almost see the producers sitting around after a few wines saying to themselves ‘why do we need to waste money on scriptwriters when we can just ignore the plot and pinch the concepts from old material’?

Fortunately they didn’t do that one here. It’s a well written story. The plot for this story is all merely part of Sylvester McCoy’s darker more manipulative Doctor’s master plan for keeping the universe safe from nasty types such as the Daleks. Of course the Doctor’s well laid plans go a bit awry when he realises that there are not one, but two Dalek factions roaming around greater London. How no one noticed a bunch of very peculiar aliens proclaiming universe domination in such a heavily populated city as London I don’t know – and have you ever heard a Dalek whisper?

I hope I am not giving too much away here, but the Doctor does in fact defeat the Daleks. He actually kills one off simply by chatting to it – a more manipulative Doctor with secret powers or a lousy conversationalist? You decide. Some people like it, some don’t, but it does add a little mystery. This story continues the theme that implies there is something to the Doctor that we don’t know. He even tells Davros that he is much more than ‘just another Time Lord’.

The best part of this story is that the Daleks look like they have all been spending far too much time down the pub. Apparently they redesigned the Daleks so they now ran on big balls or some such and they wobble, quite a bit, in fact an awful lot. However you can amuse yourself for hours on end imagining a group of rowdy Daleks wobbling home from the pub on a Friday night singing ‘we are not defeated, only delayed…. One day we will conquer and you will be our slaves’, then perhaps stopping to get a curry. 

On this note, if you can, get the DVD. It has a wonderful commentary from Sylvester McCoy and Sophie Aldred. It is refreshing to know that while you think the actors are emoting their hearts out they are actually trying not to laugh at drunken Daleks and such.

This story is also historic as it is the historic episode where it is revealed that Daleks do not need wheel chair access. They can climb stairs.

'Time-Flight' is bloody terrible. 

All right then, I'll elaborate, although it's hard to know where to start. The plot is a mess, the involvement of Concorde seemingly a contrivance to allow the production team to show off the fact that they've, well, got access to Concorde. With this initial plot albatross, which frankly is an absolute gratuity, Peter Grimwade delivers a story that might cause you to believe that he's never seen Doctor Who before. Given that he's actually directed two stories already in Season Nineteen however, it rather raises the question of what the hell he thought he was doing by writing a script that requires not one but two Concordes to crash land on prehistoric Earth. Not judging Doctor Who by its budgetary limitations is one thing, but when a writer who should know better strains the budget past breaking point, the gloves are off. 'Time-Flight' looks and feels cheap and nasty. The location filming around Heathrow airport looks fine, but given how bad the story is it serves only to bring back fond memories of 'The Faceless Ones'. The horrible sets used to depict prehistoric Earth on the other hand are by far the worst of the season, even given how cheap the jungle sets used in 'Kinda' look. Frankly, having accepted the dodgy script, the production team would have been far better off using their location time to film in a quarry… By Episode Four, things get even worse, with crap model work that seemingly includes Corgi models of Concorde. 

The Xeraphin subplot is potentially interesting, but their psychic abilities means that Grimwade resorts to a deluge of tedious technobabble, and makes further demands above and beyond what the production team can achieve. The Plasmatons, aggregations of protoplasm created using the psychokinetic power of the Xeraphin, are alternately realized as giant grey turds or soap bubbles; the cringe worthy appearance of the Xeraphin themselves is even worse, as two men stand in a box dressed in silver body stockings with lumps of polystyrene stuck to their faces. This is almost forgivable, since the simplistic and ultimately facile division of the Xeraphin into Good and Evil, and the painful plot exposition that they spout usually distracts me. Speaking of which, the script is uniformly ghastly, resulting in horribly stilted dialogue throughout; nearly every line is exposition (or to be more precise, laboured pseudo-science), which means that the characterisation is abominable as a result. Especially bad examples include Scobie and Bilton discovering Angela Clifford and another colleague, during which painful dialogue ensues - do any of these characters sound like real people to anybody? 

Speaking of characters, there are only two of any real note aside from the regulars and the Master. Captain Stapley is quite likeable, and Richard Easton makes a real effort with his crap dialogue (the same is actually true of Michael Cashman's Bilton, although he does little except stand around so that Stapley can explain bits of the plot to him). Equally well acted but far less likeable is Nigel Stock's Professor Hayter. Hayter essentially occupies the same role as Tyler way back in 'The Three Doctors', but whilst I've made no secret of the fact that I consider 'The Three Doctors' to be about as entertaining as being diagnosed with syphilis, at least Tyler was done right. Both characters are present to offer skepticism, something that companions tend not to be well suited for after the various extraordinary sights that they've witnessed. Tyler worked well in this regard because he was good natured and likeable; Hayter is merely an arse who spends a great deal of time moaning and wanting to abandon his fellow passengers in order to save his own skin. Frankly, I'd have suggested that if he really wanted to run away, he should bugger off and see how he likes prehistory. Presumably, this unpleasant characterisation is intentional in order to make his sacrifice (and posthumous rescue of the TARDIS) seem more noble, but in a story as turgid as 'Time-Flight', unsympathetic characters merely serve to rub salt into the wound. 

Then there is the Master. Given that his entire scheme revolves around repairing his TARDIS and escaping from prehistoric Earth, the Master's motivation here is fairly sound. What is rather less sound is his reason for dressing up as some kind of unconvincing Arabic zombie, which Grimwade makes no effort to explain whatsoever. Except of course that we know the real reason: it's to provide a cheap surprise at the cliffhanger to Episode Two. It's absolutely ridiculous, especially given that he stays in character as Kalid even when he's alone, drooling and giggling like some kind of imbecile. I suppose it hammers home the point that Master is, to quote The Completely Useless Encyclopaedia, "nuttier than squirrel shit", but frankly, 'Logopolis' already proved that. By Episode Four, the entire story has degenerated into a bog-standard runaround in which the Master and the Doctor annoy one another, whilst the rest of the cast stand around and play with aeroplane parts. In addition to which, the Doctor's eventual defeat of the Master, which strands him on Xeriphas is not only pure technobabble, it isn't even very convincing - his TARDIS can't materialize because the Doctor's is already at its target coordinates. For one thing this contradicts the fairly recent 'Logopolis', and for another, it blatantly does materialize, since it appears hovering nearby. So how the Doctor knocks it back into time and space is anyone's guess, although at least it brings the whole sorry mess to an end. 

As for the regulars, Davison's breathless enthusiasm is the only reason 'Time-Flight' is worth watching at all, as well as his manic optimism in Episode Four as he struggles to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Nyssa gets to demonstrate vague psychic abilities, which were then promptly forgotten until Lance Parkin wrote 'Primeval', which again illustrates that Grimwade shows no fear of plot contrivances. Tegan gets very little to do, except recite air stewardess spiel for no good reason when the passengers board Concorde towards the end. One of the many, many problems with 'Time-Flight' is that, rather than capitalizing on the loss of Adric to give more time to Nyssa and Tegan, it brings in Stapley and his crew to act as surrogate companions, meaning that the pair instead spend a great deal of time standing around waiting for a plot development. Speaking of Adric, his death is briefly glossed over near the start in a horribly shallow way before everyone decides to stop grieving and try and have some fun. Clearly they miss him as much as I do then…

To summarize all of that, in case I wasn't clear enough, 'Time-Flight' is pants. After a generally very strong debut season for Davison it's terribly disappointing, and to add insult to injury it has a very half-arsed ending in which the Doctor and Nyssa abandon Tegan seemingly by accident. Apparently this was intended to provide a cliffhanger ending to the season before she returns in 'Arc of Infinity', but instead it just makes it looks as though the Doctor is grabbing the opportunity to be rid of her. Nevertheless, she does return, and as a result the potential of the Doctor and Nyssa travelling together without other companions remained untapped. Until nearly twenty years later that is, when Big Finish entered the picture…

'Snakedance' is in many ways highly similar to 'Kinda'. For one thing, it is a sequel to that story, also written by 'Kinda' scribe Christopher Bailey, and featuring the return of the Mara. Like 'Kinda', it suffers from cheap and stagy looking sets and horrible costumes, but is also well directed. And like 'Kinda', it has a superb script, great characterisation, and a superb acting. 

To address those minor negative quibbles first and get them out of the way, I actually much prefer the sets here to those in 'Kinda', with only the rocky exteriors and the cave bothering me. The rocky exteriors look better than they might have done due to the fact that they are recorded on film, but they are still obviously fake sets with a painted backdrop and some sand scattered about; in short, they always look as though they are indoors. The cave looks OK, but suffers from the same problem as those in 'Earthshock', in that it looks very little like a real cave at all. On the other hand, it has been sculpted in the past, so I suppose its shiny walls and unnatural rock shapes could be explained thus. But it still looks a bit silly when the veins in walls light up at the end. Ken Trew's costumes represent my only other criticism of 'Snakedance'; most of them look a bit silly, but are passable, for example those worn by Dugdale and Chela, but Ambril's pink and black costume is hideous and the ludicrous costume that Lon dons in Episode Four has to be seen to be believed. I should perhaps also point out that the curse of the Mara once more means the curse of the rubber snake, whether it be the one wrapped around Tegan's arm, the one that bites Dojjen and the Doctor during the snakedance, or the big Mara prop at the end. However, the snake effects used here have moved up a step since 'Kinda' and bonus points are awarded for the use of real snakes. 

So having got my rather shallow criticisms of 'Snakedance' out of the way, I'll start by praising the regulars. Janet Fielding again proves she can act, as the Mara once more possesses Tegan. She proves especially good when Tegan wakes up terrified from a nightmare, or wanders around in fearful confusion under the influence of the Doctor's dream inhibiting device. She's even better however when Tegan is fully under the Mara's control and she gets to play the villain; her tormenting of the fortuneteller at the end of Episode One, her callous treatment of Dugdale, even her power crazed ranting, all of these aspects are portrayed very well, and this is emphasized by the first two cliffhangers, superbly directed by Fiona Cumming. The real test of Fielding's acting skills is that she manages to seem menacing even with a rubber snake coiled around her arm, which is pretty impressive when all said and done. Actually, the Mara is realized very well throughout 'Snakedance' and is more prominent from the start than it was in 'Kinda', since the Doctor realises what his enemy is very early on. Cumming's use of snake skulls and distorting mirrors are both examples of how she achieves surrealism on a limited budget and shows Tegan alternately fighting or giving in to the Mara in her mind. Cumming's direction is impressive here, but Fielding is crucial to the success of these scenes. 

Sarah Sutton's Nyssa gets very little to do here, basically following the Doctor or Tegan around to allow plot exposition, but Davison is very well used as the Doctor. His frantic rushing around in an attempt to stop the Mara's rebirth is well ahdnled, and it's interesting to see how he looks to the supporting characters, with everyone except Chela assuming that he is a harmless crank. Ambril's reaction to him is very realistic, as he tries to convince everyone that on this occasion a celebration that has been performed once a decade for five centuries will on this occasion have dire consequences. His scenes with Dojjen in Episode Four are particularly good as the Doctor exhibits first fear and then finally understanding as Dojjen teaches him how to defeat the Mara. 

The supporting cast is excellent. Over the past ten years I've often seen clips from 'Snakedance' being used to embarrass both Martin Clunes and Jonathon Morris, but neither have cause for embarrassment (except perhaps for Clunes' costumes). Clunes is superb as the arrogant and bored Lon, whose transformation from obnoxious to manipulative and ruthless demonstrates that Lon is not a particularly nice person to begin with but is far worse under the Mara's control. Incredible, the famously big-eared Clunes, a man famous for portraying loutish behaviour in Men Behaving Badly, manages to appear both imperious and even dashing at times. Morris is also great as the erstwhile Chela, the one person other than Dojjen prepared to listen to the Doctor's warnings about the Mara, and his character is very likeable. Every character is well written, including Lon's snooty but well-meaning mother Tanha (Colette O'Neill), and the money grubbing but also likeable Dugdale (Brian Miller, husband of Elizabeth Sladen) whose fascination with what he thinks of as Tegan's skills at ventriloquism and the financial benefits this might bring him leads him into terror and slavery. Preston Lockwood's Dojjen is played with quiet dignity and although he barely speaks he brings a tremendous air of wisdom to the role. Perhaps most notable is John Carson's Ambril, a great character whose obsession with his work causes him to betray his sacred trust and hand over the great crystal to Lon. Ambril's motivation is always understandable, his greed for knowledge and artifacts nicely contrasting with Dugdale's greed for money and equally demonstrating how the Mara is capable of praying on people's weaknesses. Carson superbly portrays Ambril's barely suppressed excitement at the artifacts Lon shows him, as he handles them with trembling hands, and his defeated submission to the Mara's will as Lon smashes them is very well acted. In addition, Ambril's enraged reaction to the Doctor's solving of the riddle of the Six Faces of Delusion is almost worth watching the story for by itself. 

Bailey's plot is deceptively simple, carried along by the characterisation and more subtext picked up on from 'Kinda'. Buddhism apparently plays its part once more, in the origins of the Mara and the means by which the Doctor defeats it. Also as in 'Kinda' there are subtle criticisms of colonialism (or rather imperialism) as Tanha patronizes the natives and laughs at their quaint customs, whilst nevertheless fascinated by them. 'Snakedance' is perhaps less memorable than 'Kinda', affected to an extent by the law of diminishing returns, but it is a worthy sequel and after the disappointing 'Arc of Infinity' it bodes well for the remainder of Season Twenty.

There is a temptation that when an award is subject to a public vote, to proclaim the result a reflection of popular opinion. This is of course not entirely true; as the old saying goes there are lies, damn lies and statistics. What the so-called public vote represents is the opinions of the people who chose to take part, and is therefore subject to the agendas and prejudices of the sample pool. And that's before you even get into the sticky problem of all the "don't knows/don't cares/go aways" that such samples are subject to.

So when the DWAS and DWM used to have seasonal polls to find the most popular story of a season, the poll might have been on a much smaller scale but the same principle applies. Now, for better or worse, Doctor Who fans are remarkably conservative in their tastes, we always (and I mean ALWAYS) err on the side of caution. So back in the heady days of early 1988, what should find itself coming out top?

Dragonfire.

Apparently Dragonfire achieves the rare distinction among its season 24 brethren of being the most like 'traditional' Doctor Who. I'll quote Tim Munro from his review in DWB No. 51, dated January 1988 (which the Howe/Stammers/Walker triumvirate loved too; they used it in the Television Companion): "It was the only story which came anywhere near to recapturing the unique atmosphere of 'real' Doctor Who." Ok, so he says "real" rather than "traditional," but it's still a great quotation. Especially good is the way our man Tim hijacks the expression "real Doctor Who" and uses it to mean whatever he wants it to mean. It would be facetious of me to say "real Doctor Who, as opposed the imaginary kind that you've been watching for the last eleven weeks," but playing on such a nebulous concept as "real," or my preferred "traditional" smacks of sloppy, tabloid journalism. What he really means is "the Doctor Who I used to watch when I was young and the Yeti were ten feet tall and it was SOOOO scary and everybody at school didn't laugh at me for being such a saddo."

Anyway, since when did being "traditional" warrant celebration? Dragonfire is traditional in the sense that it has the "it's the last serial of the season and oh my God we've run out of money what are we going to do?" look of cheapness about it. Overall, season 24 looks a lot more expensive than season 23 did (space station excepted), but of the four serials from this year, Dragonfire suffers the most from poor design. It is something of a clichй to wheel out the old "BBC are great at costume drama" chestnut but if Cartmel learnt anything from this season, it was that the designers of the day liked to keep things real. A decaying tower block has a real world connection, as does the 1950s, but obviously ice caves and spaceships are still a bridge too far for BBC design teams circa 1987.

You would think that if your sets are shoddy that you'd want to hide the damn things as much as possible, ergo, turn the lights off. A little bit of suspense can go a long way, just ask Chris Carter; Mulder and Scully spent most of season two of The X-Files pottering about in the dark; you begin to wonder if the pair of them are nocturnal. As a consequence every single ice cave scene in Dragonfire has no sense of space whatsoever. People wander around what is supposed to be underground, cramped, unlit, naturally formed, poorly ventilated and freezing cold ice caves as if they've walked into the post office. Sylv is the only member of the cast to remember this, but as he is the ONLY one his slipping comes across as a piece of misjudged slapstick.

So much of Dragonfire comes across as misjudged. The newfound confidence that was on show in Delta has been retarded and the series is back on the uneven ground it occupied during Paradise Towers. Nowhere is this more apparent than THAT cliffhanger. I can't decide whether Chris Clough betrays a lack of faith in the material or simply cannot give a toss. If the latter is true then the man should never have been allowed to work on the show again, but - having read the revealing interview with Eric Saward in DWM recently - on set in 1987 there were probably a hundred good reasons for it at the time. It's just a shame that none are readily apparent.

A slew of good ideas are undermined by this slapdash approach, the Alien-influenced biomechanoid dragon just one. I always appreciate Doctor Who's efforts to punch above its weight and so tend to be more forgiving when high concept ideas fall a little flat. Yes, the dragon is a man in a rubber suit, but Graeme Harper had just such an unwieldy creature in Androzani and got away with it. Just.

It may seem like I've belatedly joined the queue of season 24 bashers after giving the three preceding serials a relatively easy ride but that's not the case. Taken in a wider perspective the last serial of season 24 is much better than the first and although I personally prefer Delta, Dragonfire still feels like part of an uphill trend. Plus points are Sylvester's increasing melancholy, particularly in Mel's leaving scene - Mel's leaving of course being a big plus in its own right, if I feel so inclined to return to my previous facetiousness - is a helpful reminder that yes, this is the same character who will declare war on the evils of the universe for the next two seasons.

Ace, despite some clunky dialogue, proves to be a good addition to the programme. She is conceivably the first pro-active companion since the second Romana and her ability to carry her own sub-plots is a blessing that will only become apparent in the future. Paired with Mel for a lot of the action gives you the chance to directly compare the two; of Mel, Ray and Ace I still think the production team made the right decision.

Tony Selby remains tremendously watchable. He never hits the heights of the Holmes inspired wit that he's given in part thirteen of Trial, but he's playing the part with just the right amount of tongue-in-cheek bravado that the furry dice in the cockpit of the Nesferatu seem perfectly in character. I can also justify his inclusion in the narrative in the wider scope of the programme at the time. With time becoming a premium in the three parters, it becomes essential to get through the establishing scenes with expediency. One of the ways of doing this was to have the characters already know eachother and the vast majority of the three parters follow this pattern. Witness it is Ace's friends who are abducted in Survival, Lady Peinforte has met the Doctor before; more so in the three parters than the fours, the history of the two leads is a driving force behind the narrative as much as the plots of the respective antagonists.

It's easy to say that this is very much a transitional story between the froth of Delta and the introspection of Remembrance but that is lazy and quite frankly bollocks. Dragonfire is the last time we see the Doctor crashing round the universe, finding injustice and then fighting the good fight. From here on, the Doctor has a plan. He goes on the offensive. Doctor Who is never quite the same again.

This is the classic 7-part adventure that would solidify Doctor Who's popularity for years to come. For it is in this adventure where the Doctor has his very first encounter with his deadliest adversaries... the Daleks. Of course, you who are reading this probably already know that.

Being this is the second adventure for the TARDIS crew, a great many things come about as a result.

Before I talk about the actors involved or the story itself, I'd like to talk about set designs and the costumes. The sets of the jungle itself are extraordinary, as are the sets for the Dalek City and the caverns. I was definitely impressed, considering much of this was studio enclosed, and it was way before the use of CSO or blue/green screen technology that would become quite infamous in the later years. 

The design concept for the Daleks' robotic casing at first glance would appear to be quite laughable and ludicrous, considering that they simply look like giant trash dispensers or pepperpots with plungers. However, the the robotic casing itself is truly unique and distinctly alien. Once the initial silliness fades, you realize how effectively terrifying those pepperpots are, especially when you think about what lies within.

The clothing worn by the Thals is also quite effective in symbolizing their peaceful nature as an agricultural society. Although I must admit the outfits worn by the males did make them look like the 'Kevin Sorbo Appreciation Society'. 

The story, exceptionally well-crafted by Terry Nation, is definitely thrilling, thought-provoking, intensely dramatic as well as exciting. Considering how this sotry was crafted in the early 60's, the idea of the effects of a nuclear war (even on an alien world) was something quite topical during this time. 

The TARDIS crew continue to shine as the varying viewpoints and character dynamics continue to clash, but their willingness to cooperate in times of peril asserts itself rather well. Especially in combining their intellects to exploit the Daleks initial weakness of gaining static electricity through the metallic flooring in order to orchestrate their escape. 

The Doctor continues to demonstrate his ambiguous nature as he still does not fully like the fact that Ian and Barbara are still stowaways about his vessel. It's fascinating to observe the Doctor's early behavior of someone that would manipulate and deceive others to get his way, as he does by purposefully removing the fluid link from the TARDIS consoles' inner circuitry, lying to the others about it losing its mercury, just so he could venture from the jungle to investigate the mysterious city. It's so interesting to see the Doctor being so callous at times, only caring for his own survival as well as Susan's. This is far from the adventurer willing to sacrifice his life for the sake of others that he would eventually become. This is especially true when he is willing to abandon both Ian and Barbara, and even the Thals and Daleks to their own devices. It showcases that the Doctor is first and foremost a scientist and an observer, with no interest in helping others. It is only when the fluid link is unknowingly taken by the Daleks that the Doctor wishes to use the Thals to get it back. This is not to say the Doctor is unlikeable in this story. One of my favorite scenes is the delight the Doctor takes in showcasing his food processing machine (which may actually have been the forerunner to the food replicator used in Star Trek). He shows a great deal of curiosity and fascination in learning about the history of Skaro and its people from Dyoni. In fact, he still showcases his vast intelligence and even a great deal of boyish excitement at collaborating with the Thals to outwit the Daleks. The Doctor also shows some remorse and admits to his lies when he realizes the apparent danger of radiation sickness. He also displays grim satisfaction at seeing the Daleks dying due to the loss of ambient radiation. 

Although Susan showcases moments of descent into the model of the shrieking young companion (which is understandable for a girl as young as she is facing unknown dangers), she still manages to provide input in assisting her grandfather and her friends. In addition, the fact that she was willing to go out of the Dalek City to the TARDIS to retrieve the anti-radiation gloves (oops, I mean drugs) alone shows a great deal of courage. 

Ian shows himself to be intelligent and a man of action as well. For it is actually he, not the Doctor, that wants to help the Thals to help themselves. It's Ian that condemns the Doctor's selfish actions that brought them to near death by radiation sickness and capture by the Daleks. It is Ian that understands the Thals stand on pacificism, but that there must come a time when you must fight to protect yourself and those around you from a danger you know will eventually eradicate you. It is this that Ian conveys to the Thals in order to gain their aid in confronting the Daleks and in retrieving the fluid link. 

Barbara balances out uncertainty and fear of the unknown with some level of intelligence, courage and compassion. The scene where she talks to Susan to comfort her after her frightening encounter, demonstrates an almost maternal quality that Barbara would display to one other companion, Vicki. 

The Daleks are portrayed with intelligence, arrogance, ruthless single-minded authority, cunning and are very xenophobic (at least only to the Thals). It is interesting to not that in this, their first appearance, the Daleks are only concerned with the continuation of their own species, not with conquering the universe or enslaving all existence. Their main concern was in erradicating the Thals and then adapting the planet to be efficient to the Daleks only. This is especially true when they use the Thals plight to lure them into a trap which results in the death of their leader Temmosus. Still, it was this first appearance that would continue to evoke horror and terror to fans throughout the years whenever we see them or hear them utter one single word: "EXTERMINATE!"

The Thals are quite interesting, as we see them as pacifists, people who are tired of war and only wish to live in peace. This peace exists only through the Thals avoidance of the Dalek City, and an ingrained refusal to revert back to what they once were, militaristic warriors. The Thals of importance to the story are very well scripted and fleshed out characters. 

Temmosus is a philosophical, idealistic man of peace, the benevolent rule of the Thals. Foolishly hoping to forge an alliance with the Daleks to establish a mutual exchange of ideas. Although foolish, it is understandable considering he and his people had no knowledge of what the Daleks had become after 500 years of separation. But Temmosus maintains a certain objectivity when he says that "certain things are often inevitable and we shouldn't fight against it". It showcases that on a certain level, Temmosus felt that his life was in danger when he decided to meet with the Daleks. It's a shame that he had to die, when all he wanted was to ensure the survival of his people through understanding and cooperation. Although his death is tragic, storywise it is necessary to demonstrate to the Thals something they needed to learn: it is futile being rational and reasonable to those who cannot be reasoned with. 

Alydon becomes the de facto leader upon Temmosus' death, and he too is an excellent character. Very kind, compassionate, trust-worthy and pragmatic. His adamant refusal to risk another war with the Daleks is understandable. Although the responsibility for the survival of his people has been thrust onto his shoulders, it is a duty he immediately takes to heart. It is only when Dyoni's safety is threatened by Ian's attempt to trade her to the Daleks for the fluid link that Alydon realizes what must be done. In true leadership capacity, he calls for a vote from his people on whether they are willing to risk their lives to ensure the survival of their race. 

Dyoni I like very much (even when she pouts). A beautiful and intelligent young woman that is proud of heritage and treasures the history of her culture and also hopes for a better future, but feels uncertain due to threat of famine. She shows a great deal of compassion towards her fellow Thals. She even takes a great delight in showing the Doctor information modules containing the history of Skaro and its people. She also seems to take great offense to outsiders who clearly do not know their ways or understand the necessity for their philosophy of pacifism. All in all she does an exceptional job as Alydon's lover, confidante, and friend. 

Ganatus is a pretty good character: brave, caring, loyal, open, and sensitive. His scenes with Barbara and the others provide many of the best character driven moments (forming a genuine and somewhat romantic bond with Barbara through the course of their time together). He showcases great strategic initiative by laying out the plan of attacking the city from the back through the dangerous swampland and through the mountains. 

It is an interesting note to see the opposing ends of both races. The Daleks are ruthless and vicious warmongers, while the Thals are too complacent in their pacifistic beliefs. 

All in all, this is one hell of an enjoyable story from all fronts. It is an excellent allegory of the consequences of nuclear war, as well as a parable for the pros and cons of pacifism. It is an excellent story that would solidify the show's popularity forever.

VHS... How quaint.

I've never really understood the bad rap that AMBASSADORS OF DEATH gets. Sure, it's in the middle of a good season, but I've never felt it was the weakest of Pertwee's first year. I'd much rather watch this again than view THE SILURIANS (I like the idea of SILURIANS much more than the actual story itself). AMBASSADORS is a straightforward romp that I found very enjoyable. When my copy arrived, I planned to watch the first tape one night, saving the second for the next evening. But I was having such a blast, I viewed the whole thing in one long sitting.

A lot of the time we fans find ourselves laughing at the show as often as we laugh with it. Time has not always been kind, and aspects of this serial show their age. Television and film were still new to the idea of portraying space travel realistically; it's amusing to see the production crew simulating weightlessness by turning the camera upside-down and running everything in slowmo. Gender equality is also something that the producers may have attempted, but, amusingly, Britain's Space Control Centre is staffed by a substantial number of pouting, miniskirted scientist-babes.

The story begins with the British Space Programme (well, it was the early 70s, and they were rather optimistic back then) mounting a rescue mission to discover what happened to their latest Mars Probe. When the capsule docks, contact is lost while a loud alien sound screams across the radio. The Doctor believes the sound is an alien message. Some time later, mysterious space-suited figures that can kill by touch are seen committing petty thefts, stealing radioactive isotopes and scientific equipment. 

My review is more a series of isolated thoughts. This is an entertaining romp, and deep, serious analysis wouldn't be particularly fruitful. My initial thought is that this is probably the story where the James Bond influence on the Pertwee era is the most apparent. The Doctor pulls gadgets from nowhere. He faces an earthbound menace with access to the latest military hardware. Gun-battles and chase scenes abound. There are even jazzy musical cues to punctuate the action.

On the subject of the music, I just want to say that I really dig the incidental score, occasionally inappropriate as it is (to me, action sequences don't scream out for flute solos). Of particular note is the piece played whenever the Ambassadors initiate their raids. Dreamy and atmospheric, I loved it the first time; multiple viewings have not diminished my appreciation.

Action by Havoc! Yes, the stunt-work in this one is impressive. AMBASSADORS relies on its action sequences and the team is more than up to the challenge. The battles are smoothly executed and sharply directed. Something that I found amusing (and I'm probably alone) is that one of the stuntmen reminded me of Stan Laurel. This presented me with very entertaining imagery. Stan Laurel shooting bad guys. Stan Laurel's rifle shot from his hands. Stan Laurel thrown from a helicopter. I guess life after Hardy was rough on the little guy.

The script contains quite a number of nice little moments. Reegan is particularly villainous, casually ordering his two lackeys to their deaths and then attending to the disposal of their bodies.

Visually, the story is strong. The blank faces of the space-suited aliens are as chilling as any other villain Doctor Who would produce. It's an effective way of highlighting the alien's fundamental otherness by placing the unfamiliar inside the familiar. Removing the face completely dehumanizes the aliens. It's a much more effective way of displaying their unsettling nature than if they had relied on cheap makeup.

The film sequences are fantastic -- a world of difference from the rather static studio portions. The shot of the Ambassador slowing walking towards the UNIT guard with the sun behind him would look at home in a smooth, atmospheric movie. Even the chase-scenes are inspired; note that stylish shot where Reegan races through metal walkways. He steps briefly into a puddle and the camera focuses on the reflection in the water as the ripples soften, allowing us to continue to see his progress. Cool stuff and not what one expects in a three-decade-old television production.

Towards the end, I was struck by the thought that the cliffhangers seemed unimaginative. Rather than having the episode build towards them, they just seemed to happen at whatever point in the story was up after twenty-five minutes. Wouldn't it have made more sense to move the episode five cliffhanger a few minutes so that it occurred as the alien spacecraft appears to smash the two capsules, rather than when the ship has merely appeared on the scanner?

In the later episodes, the story begins dragging. Liz gets very little to do, and her escape attempt adds nothing but time. The aliens are poorly realized outside their spacesuits. When the Ambassador removes his helmet, the director very wisely keeps the shots to a minimum, only showing the face either for a few moments, or from behind foggy glass. Unfortunately, he doesn't employee the same subtlety for the leader on the mothership, so we're treated to the sight of an alien made of oatmeal waving oven mitts at Jon Pertwee from behind a Venetian blind.

The restoration on the video is excellent. It's a pity that there was no alternative to fading between monochrome and color footage, but the transitions aren't especially jarring. The demonstration placed at the end of the second VHS tape really drives home how superior the cleaned up version is. 

There's a funny cheat in episode seven where Cornish explains that they can't obtain a good look at the alien spacecraft because radioactivity is blotting out cameras. That'll save a bit of money from the effects budget! But I have to forgive AMBASSADORS its cheats because it's just so damned entertaining. And while there are figures of power in the world willing to launch pre-emptive military strikes, this story will always be relevant.