'Kinda' looks awful. The sets are horribly cheap looking and obviously studio bound, the jungle set being arguably the worst to appear in the series since 'Planet of the Daleks', with the actual studio floor painfully in evidence throughout. The sets used for the Dome are no better, composed of tacky looking plastic and metal components that appear to have been bought on the cheap from a DIY store. The costumes are even worse; the Kinda costumes seem to have been cobbled together from spare curtains and table cloth, and Sanders' colonial outfit, complete with pith helmet, is woefully unsubtle, as though trying to beat the viewer over the head with the colonial aspect of the script. The snake is positively notorious, an enormous inflatable toy that is the low point of the already cheap production; The Discontinuity Guide tries to excuse it by suggesting that since the Mara is a creature of false fears, its realization as a poor origami monster is appropriate, but this smacks somewhat of desperate optimism. But 'Kinda' is unique; it is the only story in Doctor Who's entire run where the production values are so poor that I am constantly aware of them throughout, but still manage to become utterly engrossed in the story. Because 'Kinda' has an astonishing script, and the full promise of this is delivered upon superbly by an astonishing cast. 

There is much to enjoy in 'Kinda'. I know next to nothing about Buddhism, but it is well known that 'Kinda' is full of Buddhist references. I am informed that one of the most significant of these is the Wheel of Life, a concept deployed skillfully to show that supposedly primitive Kinda are in fact far more sophisticated than they seem to be. The sequence at the end of Episode Three in which Panna gives the Doctor and Todd a vision of what will happen if the Mara is not defeated is a captivating scene that director Peter Grimwade handles with great skill. Panna's talk of the Wheel turning and civilizations rising and falling demonstrates an understanding of time that impresses even the Doctor, and brings home to him the real danger on Deva Loka. Also used throughout are references to Christianity; Deva Loka is an obvious parallel to the Garden of Eden, with the Mara as the serpent in paradise. The script doesn't particularly comment on either Buddhism or Christianity, it simply draws upon them to add colour and depth to the plot. And of course there are other issues explored perhaps more familiar to Doctor Who, most notably colonialism; the patronizing attitude of the human survey team and the arrogance inherent in their intention to colonize a planet already inhabited is an old issue. The "standard procedure" of taking hostages is abominable, especially given the peaceful nature of the Kinda prior to that point, and Christopher Bailey quietly condemns this without drawing excessive attention to it. The well-meaning Todd, who has made vocal objections about this policy to Sanders, is given far more insight into how wrong it is when she herself is imprisoned by Hindle, to her obvious discomfort. Rather than having the Doctor point out that this is how the Kinda must have felt, the viewer is instead left to draw this conclusion him or herself. 

These sources and issues are, perhaps surprisingly, mere background however. The two main foci of the story are Hindle and the Mara. As Hindle, Simon Rouse is incredible. Hindle is not a villain; he is a man driven by a stressful situation to the very edge of his sanity, and over the edge into mental illness. Rouse plays the part utterly seriously, making for a captivating performance, as Hindle, rather than being some clichйd and unconvincing stock nutter, is by turns terrifying and pathetic. Whether telling the Doctor, Adric and Todd that he has the power of life and death over them all, or crying for his mummy when Sanders returns, or screaming for the lights to be turned back on when the Doctor opens the Box of Jhana, he commands the viewer's attention. The high point of the entire performance his is stricken "You can't mend people!" in Episode Four, just before he attempts to detonate the Dome, a scene so intense that it is difficult not to be unsettled by his anguish. The entire role could have been horribly over the top or silly in the hands of a lesser actor, but Rouse makes it live up to the promise of Bailey's script. Even more interesting though, is the effect Hindle has on the Doctor.

Lawrence Miles' controversial 'Interference' features a lengthy sequence in which the Doctor is imprisoned and tortured in a Saudi prison cell; he is unable to escape, or reason with his captors. It has been argued that one purpose of this sequence is to demonstrate why the Doctor is not used to battle real life evils, because he is ineffective in doing so. In the world of Doctor Who, it is possible to escape from a prison cell by tricking the guard into entering and then knocking him out with some handy crockery, whereas in real life it is not; place the Doctor into a gritty situation where he is for example trying to stop terrorists with no fantastical element thrown into the mix, and you are on very dodgy ground. This is of course largely a matter of opinion, but what interests me about this argument is that 'Kinda' goes some way to exploring it. Hindle is not some moustache twirling megalomaniac, but a man suffering from mental illness with all the unpredictability that that can bring. And the Doctor can't cope with him. He confesses to Todd that Hindle scares him, and whenever he tries to either humour or outwit Hindle he fails, because he can't second-guess him. Hindle swings from one attitude to another in the space of a heartbeat, and whenever the Doctor tries to relate to him he becomes frustrated at Hindle's unpredictability. In short, he proves unable to deal properly with a genuinely mad human. The Mara on the other hand is a creation purely of fantasy with no grounding in reality, and the Doctor deals with it relatively easily once he knows about it. He deals with the Mara with no sign of fear or discomfort, quickly identifying this foe and working out how to deal with it. Thus, as in 'Interference', he proves ineffective in dealing with a realistic human problem, but proves that he can always beat the monsters. 

The Mara itself makes for an interesting opponent, because it is so ill defined. We are told that the Mara inhabit the Dark Places of the Inside, that there are more than one of them, and that the Doctor has heard of the legend of them. We also learn that they can cross into the material universe through a solitary dreaming mind, in this case Tegan. This is actually very little information, which succeeds in making the Mara more mysterious and thus more disturbing. To this end, Bailey also leaves questions unanswered. When Tegan dreams in Episodes One and Two and becomes possessed, she meets Dukkha, Anicca, and Anatta, but exactly who or what they are is not explained. They could simply be three Mara, or they could be creations of the Mara to allow it to communicate with Tegan via a form that she might more easily interact with. On the other hand, there are other possibilities; The Television Companion cites a theory that they are products of Tegan's mind, presumably utilized by the Mara, and actually dark reflections of the Doctor, Nyssa, and Adric. Perhaps in support of this, when Tegan meets Anicca and Anatta, they are playing a board game, as where Nyssa and Adric in Episode One. Ultimately, this doesn't matter however. What is far more significant about these scenes is that they give Janet Fielding another opportunity to shine, as she is tormented by Dukkha until she reaches a point where she is so terrified that she agrees to let him use her body for a while. The allusion is obvious, and the scene powerful; Tegan's characteristic strong character is gradually whittled away by Dukkha's mind games, until she is simply terrified and surrenders to her captor, and Fielding portrays this extremely well. 

Tegan's dream sequences are also visually striking, and a great example of how Grimwade's direction helps the story to rise above the mediocrity of other aspects of the production. The effect of opening the Box of Jhana, the sequence with the clocks at the end of Episode Three, and the harshly lit dream sequences all drag the attention away from the cheap jungle set and into the story proper. The first-rate acting on display is also responsible for this. Richard Todd as Sanders and Nerys Hughes as Todd both put in excellent performances, and Sanders' transformation from belligerent military clichй to child-like wonder is especially well realized. Also worthy of particular note is the late, great Mary Morris, a figure familiar to fans of British telefantasy for her roles as Madeleine Dawnay in the legendary science fiction series A For Andromeda and its sequel The Andromeda Breakthrough, as well as Number Two in the Prisoner episode 'Dance of the Dead'. Her performance as Panna conveys an air of ancient wisdom, although is perhaps more memorable for constantly describing the Doctor as an idiot. Speaking of the Doctor, Davison is great here, capturing the Doctor's discomfort with Hindle and his confidence in defeating the Mara with equal skill. 

With Sarah Sutton virtually absent from 'Kinda' due to Nyssa being sidelined by a contrived illness, Adric and Tegan are again given more to do. Tegan I've already discussed, Adric I can hardly bear to. The character degenerates still further, becoming less and less likeable with each passing story, especially in Episode Four when he and Tegan argue outside the Dome. It doesn't help that it is difficult to distinguish between disliking Adric and disliking Waterhouse, whose ham-fisted performance throughout makes the character even more irritating than he might otherwise be. He's positively ghastly when Adric is trying to humour Hindle, although the fact that Adric's refusal to play Hindle's game nearly gets the Dome blown up before Sanders intercedes contributes to making the character equally ghastly. Given that Adric is a member of the TARDIS crew at this period however, his utterly loathsome presence cannot be blamed on Christopher Bailey and the fact remains that 'Kinda' is a remarkable Doctor Who story.

'Earthshock' is a classic. I know this, because other fans have told me so. Regardless of whether I actually agree or not, the fact remains that it's importance to Doctor Who's history is undeniable, since of course it sees the return of the Cybermen for the first time in seven years and sees a companion killed off for the first time since 'The Daleks' Master Plan'. Despite these memorable aspects however, the question remains, is it actually any good?

Actually, yes and no. 'Earthshock' has both good and bad points in equal measure. Firstly, there are the Cybermen. There are two basic ways to write for the Cybermen; the first is to focus on what they represent, which is dehumanization, the second is to treat them as little more than marauding robots from outer space. The former is what makes the Cybermen unique; the real horror of the Cybermen lies in the fact that they don't just want to kill you, they want to make you like them. Some fans have suggested to me that in the twenty first century, with transplants and prosthetics commonplace, the Cybermen are no longer scary in this regard. To those fans I say, imagine having your genitals lopped off then being forcibly lobotomized. The Cybermen worked so well back in 'The Tenth Planet' for this very reason, and their lack of emotions meant that they were a foe that couldn't be appealed to. The second approach is far less original, as marauding robots from outer space are commonplace in science fiction, but it can admittedly work on occasion as 'The Invasion' demonstrated. This is the approach that Eric Saward adopts here; with the Cybermen seeking to destroy Earth, they are committed to destruction rather than conquest and their survival imperative is not to convert more humans into Cybermen, but to prevent the Cyber-pact. 

Portraying the Cybermen as rampaging robots potentially reduces their menace from the start, and there is another problem; Christopher Robbie is rightly ridiculed for his emotional performance as the Cyber Leader in 'Revenge of the Cybermen', but David Banks is just as guilty here. He plays the Cyber Leader with a voice dripping with vocal inflections, and the Leader announces "Excellent!" repeatedly and makes expressive hand gestures throughout. I might be more able to forgive this if it were not for the fact that Saward includes in his script an effective exchange between the Doctor and the Cyber Leader on the importance of emotion, which works well in itself but only goes to highlight the fact that the Leader has been exhibiting emotions throughout. Smugness included. And the Cybermen suffer in other ways; the pointless sequence with the thermal lance is illogical padding, since they prove more easily able to break onto the bridge with explosives. Worse still, although not Saward's fault, we see two Cybermen standing around making embarrassingly chatty hand gestures as they guard the stairs in the hold. Perhaps they are arguing about how unemotional they are… 

And yet despite all these criticisms, the Cybermen work really well in 'Earthshock'. They look and sound great, and seem genuinely unstoppable in a way that they certainly didn't in their last story, and director Peter Grimwade wrings some great suspense out of the story. The Cybermen bursting out of their cocoons in the hold, advancing remorselessly on the bridge, appearing out of nowhere and attacking first Tegan and then the troopers entering the TARDIS, are all extremely dramatic scenes. Their redesigned costumes make them look physically impressive, and the silver chin visible behind the transparent mouthpiece is a nice touch. Moreover, David Banks performance as the Cyber Leader, for all that it betrays the emotionless heritage of the Cybermen, is incredibly effective; the Leader works supremely well as a specific villain to represent the Cyber race, and in this respect his booming cry of "So, we meet again, Doctor!" makes sense, as he greats the Time Lord not as an individual, but as a representative of his entire species. What also works is the scale of the Cybermen's plan, which puts at stake the Earth and makes them far more than the pathetic bunch of tin soldiers seen in 'Revenge of the Cybermen'. This is however slightly undermined by some ill thought out aspects of the plot, a problem that would return to haunt Saward again in the future; as The Discontinuity Guide points out, the power drains caused by the revival of the Cybermen nearly put the entire mission at risk as they come close to causing the engines to misphase. It could be argued that they are precise enough to know exactly how much of a power drain they can cause before this happens, but it is also worth noting that a sane captain would have dropped the ship out of warp drive and the ship would have been stopped. Possibly Ringway assured the Cybermen that Briggs wouldn't risk her bonus for anything, but it does rather create the impression that Saward is getting carried away. 

Mention of Briggs and Ringway brings me to my next problem with 'Earthshock', and another problem that will return to haunt Saward; the characterisation is appalling. Aside from the Cyber Leader, only two characters are really of any note. The first of these is Ringway, but he's very badly written; as a Cyber agent, he knows precisely what is going on, but he frets and moans about the missing crewmembers above and beyond the call of duty. Presumably he's engaging in double bluff, but it is taken so far that it makes his eventual revelation as a traitor seem horribly contrived. Secondly, there is Briggs. Beryl Reid plays the character with considerable relish, but the fact remains that she is so obnoxious, and so clearly in dereliction of her duty (she puts her bonus before the safety of Earth) that it raises the question of how she ever managed to reach and keep such a senior position. Especially given that Berger clearly finds her conduct alarming. Perhaps Saward is providing a clever homage to 'The Wheel in Space'. Perhaps not. The upshot of this, and the fact that Berger is given almost no memorable personality at all, is a common failing of Saward's; I simply don't care what happens to any of the characters. Fans of Saward like to argue that he brings an adult feel to Doctor Who, but this seems to be a rather juvenile concept of what constitutes adult. Saward racks up the body count, and 'Earthshock' is filled with death. The troopers introduced in Episode One are mere cannon fodder, and are superfluous after Episode Two; their roles on board the freighter are fairly minimal and could easily have been rewritten, but instead we get a lot of pointless running around or hanging about in the TARDIS. Kyle's death strongly suggests that Saward suddenly realises that he needs to do something with the character, so he kills her off. But Saward's death scenes seldom carry any weight because they are gratuitous; we don't get to know any of the characters well enough to care (with the obvious exception of Adric). 

But again, despite these deficiencies, 'Earthshock' remains compelling viewing. The constant slaughter is largely meaningless, but Grimwade's direction squeezes tension from the story regardless. Episode One is very atmospheric, as the troopers are gradually eliminated by an unseen killer, and the featureless black androids when they are eventually revealed are memorably sinister. Once the androids are destroyed, the bomb provides suspense; once the bomb is disarmed, the Cybermen step in. Whilst I may not care about the supporting characters, the regulars are constantly in peril during 'Earthshock', and this is where the tension lies. Design also benefits 'Earthshock'; the freighter is very well realized, especially the ominous, gloomy hold. The cave sets in Episode One are reasonable, although admittedly they bear very little resemblance to any caves I've ever actually been in. Most of all however, Malcolm Clarke's incidental score is incredibly effective and adds considerably to the drama. 

The use of the regulars in 'Earthshock' is interesting. Nyssa is once more largely redundant, but Tegan and Adric are used prominently. Adric I'll come to below. Tegan gets an important role in Episode Four as she is used by the Cyber Leader as a means of controlling the Doctor; prior to this however, she is left with Scott and his troopers and this result in some extremely dodgy characterisation, as she leaps over fallen Cybermen in search of weapons and generally gets trigger happy. It's utterly ludicrous, especially given her usual terror in really dangerous situations, and whilst it could be argued that fear motivates her to extreme actions (such as when she desperately wrenches at the TARDIS controls in Episode Four), she seems far too safe in the presence of the troopers for this be convincing. Despite this however, Saward does make some decent use of both the girls, by repeating a trick from 'The Visitation', but making it work this time. The opening TARDIS scenes are once more in soap opera territory, but here they work because they cause the TARDIS crew to fall out; once the androids are defeated and the bomb disarmed, the four of them get together in the TARDIS for the last time and apologies are made; having faced crisis together, this shows how close the four have become, especially the Doctor and Adric, which lays the groundwork for the finale. By first causing the Doctor and Adric to fall out, Saward is able to show them making up, which emphasizes the depth of their friendship. In addition, the final scene works well too, as Tegan and Nyssa hug one another in grief, and the Doctor stares in shock at Adric's shattered badge. Davison is on form throughout, despite the fact that Saward has a tendency to place the Doctor in situations that he is unable to cope with. Whilst he successfully directs the destruction of the androids and disarms the bomb, once on the freighter the Doctor is unable to stop the Cybermen. With the threat of Tegan's death held over him, he can do little and it is only when the Cyber Leader decides to kill him at the end that he risks using Adric's badge. This slightly impotent portrayal of the Doctor is not one of which I am especially fond, but Davison at least rises to the challenge, his performance brimming with angst-ridden frustration. And he looks devastated at the end…

Which brings me to Adric. I find the silent end credits to Episode Four embarrassingly melodramatic, but I can't deny that Adric's sacrifice is highly effective; all the more so because he is such an irritating character that in saving the Earth he rather redeems his habitual petulance. After his childish tantrum and subsequent sulking during Episode One, his insistence that the Doctor leaves him behind to save Tegan shows that he has started to grow up, and his desperate attempt to break the Cybermen's control of the freighter at the cost of his own life is undoubtedly heroic. It is also ultimately tragic; his initial tampering causes the freighter to spiral back in time, safeguarding Earth and ensuring humanity's future. He achieves nothing further after he nips back out of the escape pod. It is easy to joke about the demise of such an unpopular companion, and it doesn't help that Waterhouse's amateurish acting robs his final moments of some impact, since he just looks bored, but it remains true that on its first broadcast Adric's death was really shocking. Ultimately, it makes 'Earthshock' the classic that it is often described as. I'm not sure personally that 'Earthshock' qualifies for this term; it is inherently flawed and often poorly written, but there remains about it something utterly compelling that always makes it worth watching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is a much remembered story that I particularly liked when I first saw it, in 1977. Aged eight. But 'liking' and 'understanding' a story are two different things. Being, at that tender age, somewhat ignorant of the concept of nuclear power, power stations and airplane strikes, so much of the story went over my head that I might as well have been a limbo dancer. But, for what it is worth, here are my recollections forthwith.

Firstly, part three. Parts one and two went over my head in a blur of people and supporting cast. Much of it was incomprehensible, see paragraph above. BUT, part three starts with the Doctor and Sarah in a deserted corridor and then they move to that funny metal room. Great! And then the only supporting character to appear is Professor Watson. Brilliant, even I can cope with just one supporting character! Added to this, there is the increasing drama of Eldrad, who had been wonderfully built up over the first two parts, trying to eat his way through a metal door.

But then! Eldrard turns out to be female! What a cop out, I thought. And she is comparatively friendly in a cool and distant sort of way, to the extent that they actually let her in the Tardis! Plus, episode three ends with Eldrad, the monster, actually being in danger! disaster upon disaster. But things straighten out in part four when Eldrad becomes more the sort of monster that we expected 'him' to be from the first- megalomaniac and power mad.

Then Sarah leaves. Alas! The first DW story I ever saw was Invasion of the Dinosaurs (Sarah's second story, unbeknownst to me) so Sarah had been a constant part of the show. What would happen now, I thought...

I just relealised that I have reviewed the hand of fear without once mentioning the hand! But there's not much one can say about a hand....

Like The Armageddon Factor this is another show where "the memory cheats". When I was a kiddie, this was my all-time favorite Dalek show. Now it's an episode that causes headaches while watching it. A lot of things don't make sense. Davros explains how and why he was able to come back, but it all sounds like baloney. There are lots of unanswered questions and plotholes you could herd a fleet of Drashigs through. After the Daleks "killed" Davros at the end of Genesis, it looks like they rolled his body into the Dalek equivalent of a broom closet, so how does the Doctor know exactly where to find him? Why did the Daleks save his body anyway? Why does Davros "wake up" the moment the Doctor finds him? Since when are Daleks slaves to logic? How can K9 catch laryngitis? ARGH! 

There are other things that give this story a tacky look: Davros wobbles a lot whenever he moves, the Dalek operators are constantly re-adjusting their upper casings, and the fight scene between the escaped prisoners and the Movellans in Episode Four just looks sad. Then there's the Movellans themselves. Looks like they're going to a disco after they leave Skaro. 

Anything good? Yeah. Lalla Ward in her debut as Romana is great. Well, apart from the scene where she blubbers in front of her Dalek interrogators. I don't think Mary Tamm's Romana wouldn't have done that. David Gooderson is also good as Davros. His scenes with the Doctor are the highlight of the story.