It strikes me as odd that director Michael Briant should criticize the script for this story and praise the incidentals that he added to explain its overwhelming success. There are very few Robots-bashers and I am not one of them but there are some flaws in the story that should be addressed to give a more balanced view of the story and alas, poor Michael it is the direction that is most at fault. Don’t get me wrong most of his work is great and he achieves a level of terror and claustrophobia that makes you realise how much to learn some of those early base under siege stories had. 

The story is a terrific Agatha Christie homage and one that shares her love for concealing the villain behind clever dialogue and plotting. So it baffles me when Briant chooses to reveal that Dask is the villain very early on. What should be a harmless suggestion that the killer wears a certain pair of stripey trousers is blunted by the fact that Dask is the only person wearing those trousers! Okay, so this could be a clever cheat (could be, but isn’t) and the killer could have dressed up in his clothes as a disguise but then Dask appears on a screen programming a Robot to kill, there is some distortion to hide who this could be but not enough. It is obvious and unfortunate because my love of murder mysteries stems from the plotting which conceals the killer, I often go back and watch programmes like Jonathon Creek to see how cleverly the writer has concealed his twist villain whilst handing out enough clues to make it easy enough if you’ve been paying attention. Fortunately there is enough class in the story already and frightening incident to blind you to the fact that the climax where Dask is revealed in all his green and silver robot make up glory as the murderer is an insult and anyone shocked by this revelation should hang their head in shame. 

There are more moments of poor direction that admittedly don’t come close to sabotaging the production in any serious way but shock considering the effort that has gone into the rest. The Robot who eaves drops on the Doctor and Leela supposed to be D84 and yet he is entirely the wrong colour. Robots aren’t supposed to have necks beneath their face plates. And a cameraman is shockingly whack bang in the middle of a shot. Oh and the end of episode three is a mess, the Robot attacking the Doctor drawls his monotonous threats whilst Tom Baker calmly states “It’ll either be you or me!” like this is just a game of homicidal automatons. Oh and you can see Toos clearly breathing after the Robot strangles her to death (or this at least is what the script and direction are leading you to believe). These might seem like pathetic nick picks but there are some who will try and convince this is a perfect story and although it scores high on practically every level the direction slips enough to rough up its edges a bit. 

World building. Not easy to do in four twenty five minute episodes but the ever reliable Chris Boucher, continuing his run of luck after the imaginative Face of Evil, manages to paint a rather depressing picture of the future in his script. The power of money is frightening, causing rich sorts to spend months (even years) out in a barren desert with only a handful of humans to mine their wealth. Decadence drips from walls, Robot slaves are on hand to fetch and carry so these so-called miners can do as little work as possible that can actually be called work. There is talk of Kaldor City and the Founding Families, proving its not what you know but who you know as Unvanov points out to Zilda. The crew of the Sandminer are an opinionated bunch used to getting their own way and their very appearance, make up dripping from their faces and glittering clothes, and attitudes proves the luxury they are afforded is a corrupting element. They even have the Robots built in the humanoid image, smiling faces and stylish ‘hair cuts’, nobody wants to be reminded that these are in fact slaves. Just watch as the crew laze around and play games and how they suddenly become alert and professional the second a potentially wealthy storm hits the ship. It is rare to meet such an arrogant bunch, they point the finger at each other when there is a murder but are fully prepared to accept the Doctor and Leela are responsible simply because they are there. Tarren Capel might be one circuit short of a positronic brain but maybe he was the one who could see how damning the human race had become. You could almost see it as poetic judgement as the humans are slaughtered by grinning versions of themselves, instruments of their own self-indulgence. 

I have heard Hinchcliffe say time and again in interviews that he did not like SF clichйs or relying on monsters (especially when the budget so often failed to realise the writers ideas convincingly) and Robots of Death sees him ignoring both these rules. This was a man who was attuned with the series he was producing and knew how to break the rules but still make it work. Because for one story only we have a terrifying threat for the Doctor to face and one that sits comfortably in the series’ SF genre and still manage to be a man in a suit. I think it was my pal Rob Matthews who said it was more like watching a zombie movie (of which I am not the greatest fan)…then again perhaps it was Poul (“Not Robots! The walking dead!”), well wherever the source came was it is a potent statement because these walking, talking cadavers fulfil the zombie role perfectly. Just without the melodramatic (argh that word! Its catching Mike!) moaning and groaning. They kill. They are grotesque parodies of humans. They cannot be killed. They are relentless. And oh boy are they scary. 

I can remember when I first watched this on video and my Pops telling me the garbage men made killer robots out of the refuse they took away. What a bastard, I still get a pang of terror every time they pull up outside. Mind you he said the same thing about the Daleks so perhaps I should have noticed a pattern. 

When I think of September the 11th all I can think about is the crushing fear the passengers on board those planes must have felt. It was an awful tragedy and the pain of those needless deaths freezes my heart to this day but I cannot imagine anything scarier than knowing you are about to die. My heart goes out to every victim of that despicable act but it makes me sick to think of the terror those poor passengers must have experienced in that wait. 

The only reason I mention this is because Robots of Death shares a similar terror, characters who know they are going to die soon and the feeling of throat clenching horror is dizzying. When Chub is mouthing off to the Robot in the storage room he is blissfully unaware that his executioner has entered the room. The scene is almost funny until the event snaps into place and Chub relises the Robot is not being stupid by ignoring the weather balloon and approaching him with his hands ready to strangle but deadly serious. 

There are plenty of similar scenes that play on that one fear we cannot rid ourselves of, the fear of death. The scenes in Toos’ quarters are nail biting, this is a defenceless, snobby cow and a Robot is waiting outside her door to wring her neck. The loss of control is frightening; Toos rather pathetically tries to assert herself (“Attend to your duties!”) but is presented with a corpse marker so she slams the door and tries to convince the murderer of its implausibility (“It is forbidden for Robots to harm humans!”) and she suddenly realises, snapping her eyes shut, that she is not going to escape this one. The wait is unbearable so she opens the door to see if it has gone and her worst fears are confirmed when it is standing there, frozen, blood red eyes and advances into her personal space and grips her neck. This is adult stuff; Pamela Salem is almost too good at portraying Toos’ hysteria and with the Robot hand jammed in the door and the attack on her bed, it cannot fail to have some similarity with the idea of rape. It is tapping into a psychological horror that the show usually steers clear of because it is far more frightening than body horror. 

Poul is the most fascinating character in the story because he has so many layers. As the story continues his character is peeled away from smart arse miner, to private investigator, to robophobically unstable. You can almost feel the barriers of his mind coming down as he is confronted with the Robot hand dripping with blood, David Collins plays the anguish at just the right level to truly disturb. When Leela finds him cowering in a corner dribbling on about the walking dead he such a contrast to the confident examiner of the early episodes, Boucher knowing well enough that for the audience to be afraid his characters have to be too. 

Dropped into this story are the Doctor and Leela and at this point in their relationship the most interesting we would see of them. I had a chat with my mate Matt recently about how effective the story would be had Sarah Jane stayed on after Hand of Fear. He as very much in the different but still great wheras I think it is Leela that makes this story. In a story full of hunters (Poul is hunting Capel, the Robots are hunting everybody, Unvanov hunts the Doctor) she fits in perfectly, her senses are so attuned to her surroundings she makes an invaluable companion to have. It is interesting to note that her ‘feelings’ are spot on; Poul moves like a hunter, the Robots are creepy; the sabotage to the miner and it is the Doctor who seems naпve ignoring her warnings. I love her feistiness, she kicks at Unvanov, throws her knife in a Robots gut, rushes to save Toos, don’t listen to the rumours about the new series being revolutionary because of a capable, pro-active companion because Leela got there first (comment courtesy of Rob Matthews). The Eliza parallel has already begun and the Doctor’s conversation with her about body language is fascinating. Her dialogue (“If you’re bleeding look for a man with scars”) is terrific throughout. 

The Doctor is still in his moody years, very much the alien and Tom Baker plays the part so effectively. He can be funny (“Would you like a jelly baby?” “SHUT UP!” “A simple no thank you would have sufficed”), he can be intense (“We’ll all blow to pieces if you don’t cut the power!”), he can also be sarcastic (“Are you going to tell me your plan for running the universe?). What’s more he manages to convince you that the death of a Robot is a tragedy (his face when D84 is killed). Its one of his last totally straight performances and is one the best because he lets the script and the guest actors impress and simply provides some background gravitas. 

I could go on all day about the stylish art deco sets and costumes and the totally convincing model work for the Sandminer but that’s been done to death. Dudley Simpson’s intense, throbbing score is the icing on the cake of what is one of the best productions Doctor Who has to offer. 

There are so few Doctor Who stories that genuinely manage to make you afraid to sit in the dark alone and watch them. I am pleased to count Robots of Death amongst their number. Even my Ma thought this was creepy. What more can I say?

I was expecting to write a scathing review of 'The Invasion of Time'. I've only seen it twice before, but on each occasion I was less than impressed with it. On this occasion however, I found myself enjoying it and was surprised to find that it hangs together much better than its reputation would suggest. 

One of the most memorable aspects of 'The Invasion of Time' is of course the Doctor's seeming betrayal of Gallifrey to the Vardans. With no explanations forthcoming until Episode Three, the first two episodes leave open various possibilities; that the Doctor has gone mad, that he is being controlled, or of course that he has ulterior motives for this seeming treachery. The latter of course turns out to be the case, but Tom Baker's intense performance in the first two episodes must have had the audience wondering when the story was first broadcast. Erratic, arrogant, and ruthless, the Doctor heaps indignities on all around him (especially Borusa), orders that Leela be banished, and generally seizes the presidency of Gallifrey in as obnoxious a manner as is possible. Anyone who hadn't seen 'The Deadly Assassin' must have been even more startled by this development. With the Doctor acting so out of character, it is strangely relieving when he explains what is really going on to Borusa in Episode Three, even though I'm familiar with the plot. Once his true intentions for the Vardans are revealed, the Doctor settles down somewhat, but Baker maintains one of his most manic performances, possibly putting in a special effort because he's relieved that a season featuring two extremely bad Bob Baker and Dave Martin stories is nearly over. There are also moments where he displays the same kind of grim seriousness that characterised the Hinchcliffe era, such as when he picks up the De-Mat gun to a horrified gasp from Borusa and points out that they are utterly helpless against the Sontarans without it. What particularly interest me about 'The Invasion of Time' is just how manipulative the Doctor is. Although the Vardans state that if the Doctor fails "there will be others", I can't help wondering why the Doctor can't just go to Gallifrey, and warn them that a race named the Vardans are planning to invade; it is after all, the Doctor and K9 who are responsible for destroying the transduction barriers and opening a hole in the quantum force field. It suggests that the Doctor is not only trying to deal decisively with the Vardans, but also that he wants to shake the Time Lords up a bit. 

For her final story, Leela gets some very good lines and scenes. Her faith in the Doctor remains unshakeable, even when he orders her banished, and she manages to convince both Rodan and the Outsiders that he is up to something. Her usual skills at fighting are on show as ever, most notably when she throws a knife into a Sontaran's probic vent, but she also shows other attributes; once outside, she makes a point of looking after Rodan, and it is her leadership skills which allow her to convince the Outsiders to attack the Capitol. At one point she gets the line "Discussion is for the wise or the helpless and I am neither", which is not only superbly delivered by Jameson, but also suggests to me that Leela is actually a lot wiser than she gives herself credit for. Unfortunately, her leaving scene is notoriously contrived, due to Louise Jameson's late decision to depart, as Leela decides to stay with Andred, a man she barely knows. It is possible that some time passes between the Doctor's defeat of Stor and his actual departure during which time Leela gets to know Andred, and is also possible that this is how the Sevateem usually choose their partners, but it still feels awkward. On the other hand, the Doctor's wistful "I'll miss you too savage" as he closes the TARDIS door behind him goes some way to making up for this.

Also departing in this story is K9 Mark I, although due to a lack of any discernable difference between models, this makes very little impact. K9 however does get plenty to do, aiding and abetting the Doctor's scheme for the Vardans, being entrusted with Gallifrey's equivalent of the crown jewels and generally proving indispensable to the Doctor. The reason why I like K9 is summed up in the TARDIS scene in which K9 and the Doctor bicker outrageously, each calling the other smug; on the one hand it's rather silly to have a sarcastic back-talking robot dog, but on the other hand it is rather funny. 

The various Time Lords who appear here are generally well acted, especially John Arnatt's Borusa. His performance is not as memorable in my opinion as Angus Mackay's brilliant portrayal, but he still plays the part very well and manages to make it his own. Borusa's tendency to carefully analyze every situation with a view to ensuring Gallifrey's (and his own) future means that there is a slight edge to his relationship with the Doctor even after he knows what is really going on, and this results in him twice pulling a gun on the Doctor, most notably when the Doctor demands the Great Key of Rassilon. Milton Johns' loathsome Kelner is also a great character, displaying some truly unappealing character traits including cowardice and treacherousness (which contrasts nicely with the Doctor's pretence of betrayal - Kelner is happy to serve both Vardans and Sontarans for the sake of his own survival and power). Relatively minor characters like Lord Gomer and Nesbin also come over well, helping to make the story fill its six-episode length without feeling overly padded. On the other hand, I'm not particularly impressed with either Hilary Ryan as Rodan or Christopher Tranchell as Andred, both of whom occasionally veer alarmingly towards wooden acting. 

The main weaknesses in 'The Invasion of Time' are unfortunately the villains. Firstly, the Vardans are quite well written, and their ability to travel along broadcast wavelengths has enormous potential, which to the credit of Graham Williams and Anthony Read (a.k.a. David Agnew) is used rather well, this being the rationale behind the Doctor's highly erratic behaviour (they can read minds) and his seemingly throwaway demand in Episode One for a lead-lined office. Unfortunately, their realization on screen is rather less impressive. I don't actually mind their shimmering tin-foil appearance when they haven't fully materialized, but once they appear in the flesh they look utterly ridiculous, not because they are just normal humanoids, but because they wear phenomenally stupid uniforms, complete with helmets that resemble bedpans. This in itself wouldn't be so bad, but their acting throughout is awful, all of them sounding like dropouts from an amateur dramatics society, with horribly stilted diction and too much emphasis whenever they are supposed to sound angry or alarmed. 

In story terms, the revelation that the Vardans are not the real villains results in a cliffhanger to Episode Four which has rather impressive impact, especially for long term fans of the series. The Sontarans rank highly amongst my favourite Doctor Who monsters, and their revelation as Gallifrey's real attackers late in the day gives the story an effective boost. It also allows "David Agnew" to follow Robert Holmes' advice and structure the story as a four parter and a two parter, which as 'The Seeds of Doom' demonstrated can be an effective way to structure a six episode story. With the Vardans satisfactorily disposed off, the last two episodes of 'The Invasion of Time' thus concern the Sontaran invasion as the Doctor and his friends are faced with this more potent threat to Gallifrey. Unfortunately, however, at this point the story starts to fall apart somewhat. The Sontarans spend two episodes chasing around after the Doctor, so that they can secure the Great Key, which we are told will allow them access to all of space and time. After pursing the Doctor through his TARDIS for about half an episode however, they seem to give up and instead decide to just blow the planet up. Why exactly they give up so easily is unclear; a throwaway line about an approaching Rutan fleet might have made this plot development more plausible, but as it stands, Stor's sudden decision to destroy a large area of space seems included simply to provide a more exciting climax. In addition to this, the much vaunted De-Mat gun really isn't that impressive; nothing in the script suggests that is anything more than a glorified ray-gun, and the Doctor's line that he could rule the universe with it is utterly cringe-worthy. The Sontarans also suffer slightly from Derek Deadman's cockney accent, although this doesn't bother me quite as much as it does some fans and by Episode Six I'd pretty much got used to it. 

The production of 'The Invasion of Time' is reasonably good. The sets of the Capitol are nowhere nears as impressive as those from 'The Deadly Assassin', but they still look rather good and they also contain design aspects of those in that story, which suggests at widespread rebuilding after the havoc wreaked by the Master. The recycled Time Lord costumes still look good, making the costumes in this story look a lot more expensive than those in other stories from this season. There are also some impressive model shots of the Vardan ship in orbit around Gallifrey. The location work featured in 'The Invasion of Time' consists of that used for outer Gallifrey, which is adequate if unspectacular, and that used for the interiors of the Doctor's TARDIS, which is slightly controversial. Personally, I like the idea that the TARDIS can contain Victorian brickwork, and I also like the impression of scale created here, with reference to the TARDIS interior existing on multiple levels. On the other hand, the location work used to show those parts of the Capitol containing the machinery for the transduction barriers and the quantum force field clashes horribly with the studio sets of the rest of the Citadel. 'The Invasion of Time' also features some rather tatty-looking Sontaran costumes, and Stor's mask is a considerable disappointment after those worn by Kevin Lindsay in 'The Time Warrior' and 'The Sontaran Experiment'. Finally, I always find the fact that the Great Key of Rassilon just looks like any old key almost irrationally irritating. 

In summary, 'The Invasion of Time' has considerable flaws, but still just about manages to work. For a season with such fluctuating story quality as Season Fifteen, it is perhaps appropriate that the finale is itself something of a mixed bag. Graham William's first season perhaps suffers from having no discernable style of its own, featuring leftovers from his predecessor and two complete and utter turkeys. Having found his feet however, Williams would make leave far more of a distinctive mark on his next season…

There have been lots of derogatory things said about Creature from the Pit, so much that it has achieved a sort of fandom infamy for being the biggest pile of garbage and the worst excesses of low comedy and poor FX that the series could sink to. What people usually forget to mention is that it is also fabulous. 

I think Creature from the Pit got its reputation when the Williams era was in especially low repute and only celebrated gems like City of Death and The Pirate Planet were praised and nobody bothered to go back and actually watch the story and realise it wasn’t in fact the embarrassing production the JNT era led fandom to believe it was. My best mate Matt thinks it is the worst travesty Doctor Who ever threw up but I am glad he is one of a diminishing number, reviews when the story came out in its belated video release were positive and encouraging others to give it another chance. 

At the heart of the story is a fair few effective messages, dislike for the unlike is a powerful corruptor and a lust for wealth even more so. Through the despicable actions of the villainous Lady Adastra we can see how one person can affect the poverty of an entire planet. Chloris is a planet rich in Chlorophyll and rather than trade with alien species and introduce a further supply of metal (which is scarce) and lose her tyrannical advantage over the population she condemns them to a life of poverty. 

Even better is the way the story deals with the Tythonian Ambassador. It is almost like a fairytale the way we are led to believe the Creature (it has to be spelt with a Capital C considering how much stress is put on the word!) is a brutal beast, one that skulks about in a dark pit and gobbles up all the frightened scientists that are thrown into his lair. But rather unpredictably the Creature, an amorphous blob turns out to be a friendly sort who is accidentally murdering those men because he is trying to find some way to communicate. It is marvellous to see how Adastra twists the image of the Creature; with a little tweaking she has her planet in abject fear of being munched on by the blob from hell. Glorious scenes of the Doctor trying to communicate with the Creature (widely dismissed because it looks like he is sucking the thing off) prove David Fisher is trying to create something truly alien and different from the archetypal Doctor Who monster of the two arms, two legs and human vocabulary type. 

This is a further example of the brilliance of Douglas Adams’ inspired mentally unstable Doctor. This is Tom Baker at the height of his powers, relishing the glorious dialogue on offer. I have been rather critical of Tom’s season seventeen performances in the past (particularly in my own appraisal of the fourth Doctor) but re-watching these stories of late has opened my eyes to the possibilities of a manic, almost lunatic version of the Hinchcliffe fourth Doctor, one who relies on his wits and flies through the story improvising every move and most of all ENJOYING HIMSELF. What a refreshing change! Through this relaxed, charming protagonist it is a pleasure to experience the story, it is the complete inverse of the Davison era where you pick any story and it is a struggle to get through no matter how good it is because the regulars are always fighting amongst themselves (and thus the audience). Watching a season seventeen story is like going on holiday with your dream companion, someone who keeps things exciting, unpredictable and fun and that person is of course the Doctor. 

Examples of his fervent eccentric-ness beam from every scene. I would spend the entire review listing every moment if I were to mention my favourite bits but selected gems would have to be…

The hysterical banter in the first TARDIS scene. I love it when the Doctor claims, “If I hadn’t produced that they were going to unravel my scarf the wretches!” when Romana comes across a huge ball of twine with a thank you note from Thesius. 

Tom’s wonderfully frightened tone when he examines the eggshell outside the TARDIS and says “It’s alive” followed up by his marvellous observation that ‘stands to reason’ is a stupid expression because it much easier to reason lying down!

His sudden unexpected leap into the Pit! Who saw that coming? Which brings us to the much maligned but brilliantly funny scene where he is clinging to the side of the Pit and tries to read ‘Everest in Easy Stages’ to climb out but realises it is all in Tibetan. So out comes the ‘Teach Yourself Tibetan’ book! Oh come on guys lighten up! How on Earth did we get such comedy gems as this with unenthusiastic dullards like you around? It’s just a bit of fun! 

The Doctor communicating with the Ambassador, I don’t care what anybody says about the cock-shaped protuberance that Erato produces for the Doctor to blow into these scenes show the Doctor at his very best, gentle, intelligent and trying desperately to understand. I love how he doesn’t condemn the Creature for the accidental deaths it has caused and has the patience and understanding to realise it is an alien and as such does not conform to humanoid rules of conduct. 

Another strong criticism about the story is the production and this is one area I can demystify at once. The jungles sets are so realistic for at least half an episode Simon thought it was filmed on location. Its colourful, its verdant and misty, is treated to some wonderful wildlife sound FX and with some imaginative camerawork and lots of humidity and sweat on characters brows Chris Barry effortlessly transports you to this lush world. There is not much wrong with the ‘interior’ sets either, remembering this is an alien world the fairytale design of Adastra’s palace seems fitting (even if she does seem to share a taste in tacky chairs with Helen A) and cave sets are two a penny in the Doctor Who world, any story that gets those simple, featureless chasms wrong has got to be in trouble (Underworld). I love it when the Doctor is first trapped down the Pit, using a film camera, clever lighting use of a match and some glorious cave sets the atmosphere is wonderfully creepy. 

Perfection is an object I would rather Doctor Who not achieve, if everything about the show was flawless how would we know what was crap? There are faults in Creature from the Pit, some gapingly obvious but I am inclined to forgive them because the story comes under fire for all the wrong reasons. The embarrassing monster seems to be the object of everybodies distaste and yet there are some inspiring CSO shots of the Creature filling the cave giving a sense of awesome size. Yes it is clearly a man in a quilt but you didn’t let the snake stop your enjoyment of Kinda, the Skarasen of Terror of the Zygons, nor the animatronic cats in Survival. Doctor Who is not FX driven, the Williams era especially not and anyone who approaches the show from that angle (read non fans) is going to be sorely disappointed and missing out on the ideas and storytelling behind those FX which are magical. 

The bandits are pretty superfluous but they pad out the story nicely and provide some decent comic interludes. Okay so they’re a bit too cuddly to convince and seems to have come from the Oliver! school of acting (“My lovely boys!”…sorry couldn’t resist the urge!) but considering the handful of screamingly funny moments they provide (my biggest laugh in the story comes when their stupid leader Torvin takes offence to Romana…”Who are you calling hair suit?”, “You! Do you want to make something of it?”, “No I just want to know what it means!”). They are surplus to requirement in late episodes, just there to provide some token threat (which they fail to do). Still the whistle scene is still marvellous. 

I love how camp everybody is in the story. Adastra is the epitome of the femme fetale, she struts about the story reminding everybody that she is a woman of power and her dominance over men, caked in make up and with a viscous temper (she slaps Romana around the face for being cheeky). All she is missing is a cheesy sax score and a cigarette holder. Karella is just as bad, a lady of luxury who sucks up to the boss and then switches sides when the tides turn. Lets face it Myra Frances and Eileen Way are both excellent, decked out in vibrant clothes they relish their roles, annunciating every line for all the female empowerment its worth. 

Lalla Ward’s debut performance as Romana is an interesting one, she claims in interviews that the script and her efforts are both effectively drawing on Mary Tamm’s initial portrayal of the character but I disagree, whilst there is a fair peppering of Tamm’s aloofness, Ward plays her scenes with a twinkle in the eye, a hidden warmth that makes all the difference. Her sadness as K.9. is smothered by the wolf weeds is far more touching than anything Romana reacted to last year. I think Ward has a presence and a vulnerability that makes her stand out, when she backchats Adastra you have some prime bitch fighting in progress!

It astonishes me when genuinely well written and goofy as hell fun stories like this one get dismissed to the bottom end of the polls when there are far more insulting examples of depth sinking (either side of this season you have The Power of Kroll and Meglos both of which never come anywhere near as low as Creature from the Pit in fan polls). It was made at a time when Doctor Who storytelling and characterisation was at an all time high, yes it does flirt with the clichйs but then the reason ideas become clichйs is because they are used a lot and the reason they are used a lot is because they WORK. This is an effective tale; one of tyranny and manipulated identity and it deserves a little recognition for its sumptuous production at least. 

Get out the banners! Picket fences around the BBC! Creature from the Pit is fab! Sing that creed!

I am quite surprised I enjoy this story as much as I do because re-watching recently I have noticed just how much the production is sort cobbled together. Certainly it has the very poor production values for the glossy season eighteen and has the most traditional plot ever seen in the shows history. 

However the story manages to overcome these drawbacks and escape any great criticism on the strength of the acting and the enthusiasm of the writer Terrance Dicks. 

If you locked Philip Hinchcliffe, Graeme Williams and John Nathan-Turner in a conference room together and asked them to produce a story I should imagine it would turn out very much like State of Decay. The story has several unique flavours that three of the most influential producers of the show adopted during their time. Certainly it is an expression of the gothic horror Hinchcliffe brought to the show being for all intents and purposes a Hammer pastiche (popular of Robert Holmes, top script editor during those wonderful three years) but then it also has a strong comedy flavour favoured by Williams during his fabulous three years of frothy entertainment. State enjoys its sarcastic edge, poking fun at the genre it is mimicking and happy to provide a good backbone to the story where the traditional plot fails. And nestled quite comfortably in JNT’s stylish first year as producer it also contains some strong scientific ideas, Chris Bidmead refusing to let the story wallow in melodramatic happenings. 

It has possibly the strangest feel of any Doctor Who story, the three influences each taking centre stage sporadically throughout the four episodes but mashing together into something original as a result. 

It has pointed out by many people that the show has an almost erotic subtext thanks to the touchy-feely bad guys, the Three Who Rule. Watching it in 2003 there is little that is questionable at all but it certainly highlights the story as one that was willing to be a bit different. Enjoyably, much of the sensual subtext seems to be gay related (up yours Thatcher!)…Camilla has an unusual taste for Romana’s blood, rushing to tend her hand when she is cut and staring at her with lust in her eyes during their initial scene together. Her “there are compensations” whilst gazing at the aristocratic Time Lady still sends shivers down my spine. Plus Aukon’s interest in Adric (oh yuck) is a fine indication of his feelings, I have never heard anybody a man whisper “come” in another’s ear quite so erotically before. The ultimate demonstration of just how sensual they are comes in episode four where Aukon holds the Doctor and Romana’s hands together whilst Camilla and Zargo touch their shoulders. An extremely revealing moment.

The Three are the stars of the show but not because of their perverted villainy. The performances are near perfect with Rachel Davies taking the honours as the most effective vampire. She has the ability of sending shivers down your spine just with the power of her voice (“Countless inhabited worlds all waiting to feed our hunger!” she seethes) and plays the part with grand, operatic gestures that give her character a dangerous, quietly menacing feel. Emery James chews the scenery fabulously; Aukon is a superb lead baddie using his dialogue to enhance the theatrical nature of his character. I love his scene stealing exclamation “You will drink the blood off TIME LORDS!”…very funny and quite scary too. Impressive. He flits between the jokes and the horror with ease, no wonder Lalla Ward enjoyed working with him so much. William Lindsay doesn’t get as many chances to light up the screen being the most subdued of the Three but his quiet “Why am I still afraid?” says everything about his thoughtful character. 

We are mere seconds away from Tom and Lalla grabbing each other on set and getting it on! Another delight of this story is the terrific amount of flirting going on by the two leads. It is the last story that they spend any substantial time together and they make the most of it, every scene they share punctuated by a playful attitude that would be sorely missed in the next three years. Episode three comes as close as they dared, sharing a cell, swapping stories and complimenting each other with coy gazes. Have the Doctor and his companion ever been this close? Not even his moments with Susan can touch the warmth expressed between these two and it is wonderful to watch. You get very involved in their relationship and as a result the next story is a real heart breaker (especially when you think who the Doctor will be stuck with). 

Ahhh yes Adric, Matthew Waterhouse’s debut acting case (although not his first story I might point out before obsessed fans jump down my neck!) on the show. Well he is as spectacularly awful as ever, so bad it is a joy to watch him try. Too complicated a character? Sure thing Matthew, that is a VERY convincing excuse to why you’re so crap in the part. Why then can’t you even manage a short walk between the console room and the door in your first scene in this story convincingly? The robot dog upstages you in every way! At least he is funny/charismatic/functional…you’re just annoying. The production seems aware of the fact and hides him away most of the time and just watch the punch the air scene where Romana suggests they have to rescue the irritating twerp. “Adric!” the Doctor spits out with utter disgust as though the very idea is repulsive. Hehehehe. “I’m sorry Time Lady but one of my family’s died for your lot already…I’d say one’s enough…” Kill the brat! Kill the brat!

When the story remembers its horror roots it manages to pull of some highly atmospheric moments. The chase by the bats through the dark woods is well done (even if the cliff-hanger is a bit useless) and the sequence at the end of episode three where Romana creep into the cob webby bed chamber of Zargo and Camilla to rescue the bowler haircut kid is shot for shot perfect. The aggressive rock music, Tarak being thrown across the room, Camilla advancing on Adric, Zargo pulling the knife from his chest and waving it into Romana’s face…a big thumbs up from the horror fan in Joe. The last episode rips off every hammer film spectacularly, the SF credentials out the window in favour of entertaining melodrama. Romana about to be sacrificed, Vampires baring their fangs excited at the feast, a terrifying creature about to rise from a long sleep, the massacre of innocent guards…isn’t it all gloriously clichйd? And done with such childish panache you can’t help but get drawn in…the story doesn’t really want to scare you but give you a good time and by its climax I was satisfied, greedily so. 

My qualms about the production extend only to the special effects, which are extremely disappointing. Doctor Who is infamous for its quaint FX but State of Decay has no real excuse, The Leisure Hive and Full Circle before it both had sumptuous production values. It would appear the money has run out and we’re forced to laugh at the pathetic shots of the tower, so obviously a model and how Terrance must have been disappointed when they sabotaged his grand finish involving a scout ship and a Great Vampires heart! Sky ray lolly anyone? Even more subtle effects such as the rock Romana throws at Aukon are sadly inefficient. 

The look of the story however is quite appealing. Each set has a jumbled, falling to pieces feel to it that suits the season theme of entropy. The Hydrax is a mixture of grand colourful rooms and cold, mettalic access panels…clearly in need of a paint job. The rebel’s base with its scientific instruments strewn about is exceedingly dated but suits the story perfectly. Even the TARDIS is looking a bit shabby these days, the queasy console groaning as the column rises and falls. The feeling of lost hope the story suggests is complimented by the design. Good work. 

Isn’t the music a joy? Why hasn’t this score been released on CD like the others in season 18? Paddy Kingsland is making a statement; he refuses to let the show drag you into its horrific material and instead opts for a shocking rock score, filling later episodes with some real pulse racing stuff. The 80’s have arrived folks and lets be LOUD and PROUD about it! The music at the climax is extremely exciting. Compare this to Dudley Simpson’s cod horror score for The Brain of Morbius (good though it was!) and see how things have changed in the new decade.

I really like State of Decay even if it does stick out like a sore thumb surrounded by all the hard SF tales around it. It doesn’t want to impress you with scientific mumbo jumbo but simply tell an effective story. It succeeds, a final stab at experiencing the fun of the universe before all the serious stuff starts.

‘Warrior’s Gate’ is magnificent. Visually stunning, superbly acted, and blessed with a sparkling and intelligent script, it stands out amongst even Season Eighteen’s finest stories as an almost flawless example of Doctor Who at its best. 

One criticism is routinely made of ‘Warrior’s Gate’; it is accused of not making sense. There is, it must be said, a difference between a story that doesn’t make sense and a story that certain members of the audience don’t understand. In truth, I fail to see what aspects of ‘Warrior’s Gate’ are considered nonsensical; there are two basic, intertwined plot strands, and these are the plight of enslaved Tharils, and the attempts by both the TARDIS crew and Rorvik’s crew to escape from the mysterious white void between N-Space and E-Space and be on their way. That is, essentially, the point of ‘Warrior’s Gate’. Thanks to the script however, it is far, far more than that. I will discuss Rorvik and his crew in more detail below, but the plight of the Tharils is complicated by a detailed back-story, which reveals that this is not a clear-cut story of good versus evil. Slave trading, I hope most people will agree, is an abomination, but the Tharils are not innocent victims; effectively hoist by their own petard, they too are former slavers, once powerful rulers of a mighty empire that enslaved humanity until the Gundan robots were built to overthrow them. The use of slaves by neither Tharils nor humans is excused; the Doctor condemns both, responding with equal contempt to Rorvik’s callous attitude to his “cargo” and Biroc’s casual assertion that the Tharils’ slaves were “only people”. Ultimately the Doctor and Romana side with the Tharils because they have repented their past sins, having suffered in turn and realized the error of their ways, whereas Rorvik is untroubled by any such qualms. This adds considerable depth to what is on the surface a relatively simple tale of two ships trapped in a void. 

Rorvik and his crew are, in my opinion, one of the most finely characterised groups of characters in any Doctor Who stories. They are not straightforward villains; they are people, a group of down-to-earth traders who eat pickles, gamble, wind each other up and sulk. Their status as slave traders alone makes them villains, and this is to be applauded as it is a reminder that in real life evil is not wrought by ranting wide-eyed nuttters bent on world domination (or at least, not very often), but by people who are depressingly ordinary, motivated by such grand designs as basic greed (there is much talk of bonuses if all of the Tharils survive the trip). Individually, they are all distinct; Kenneth Cope’s Packard is a superb character, resigned to following Rorvik, but doing so with little enthusiasm and arguing with his foul-tempered Captain when necessary. David Kincaid’s much put-upon Lane works very well alongside Packard; both of them are willing to follow orders, but whilst Packard gives the impression that he’s resigned to doing so out of contractual obligation, Lane just doesn’t seem smart enough to even consider doing anything else. Lane is frequently baffled, whether puzzling over the strange readings he’s getting from his portable mass detector, or unexpectedly meeting Tharils and Time Lords in and around Rorvik’s ship. Then there is Vincent Pickering’s Sagan, arguably the most sadistic of the group; whereas even Rorvik is motivated by profit, Sagan seems to enjoy inflicting the painful process of revival upon the Tharils. It is also interesting to note that he clearly doesn’t view them as anything other than animals, since when Lazlo eventual kills him, his last words are “hang on a minute”, a cry brimming with a mixture of indignation and disbelief that mere cargo could threaten him. And of course there are Freddie Earlle’s Aldo and Harry Waters’ Royce, the comic relief members of the crew, who sit on the sidelines bemoaning their jobs and trying to do as little work as possible. The scene in which they stay at the ship, Royce claiming that the string in his leg has gone and Aldo pointing out that he’ll need looking after is very amusing, made even more so by Rorvik’s withering reply, “tragic” making it quite clear that he thinks he can very easily manage without the pair. But it is also worth noting that for all that Aldo and Royce are amusing characters, it is they who are responsible for nearly electrocuting Lazlo, their gleeful justification for attempting to revive him being that their contracts are not dependent upon the safe delivery of the cargo. And this is how they, like the rest of the crew, see the Tharils; worse still, after the revival goes wrong, they act like guilty school boys, more concerned with getting into trouble than that they have nearly killed somebody. This, perhaps more than anything else, is a splendid example of the utter banality, and thus the disturbingly realistic, nature of the repulsive occupation of Rorvik’s crew. 

Standing out even next to his memorable crew, is Rorvik himself, brilliantly played by Clifford Rose. Rorvik is a great character because he’s so human, frustrated by the plight of his ship and what he views as the incompetence of his crew, bad-tempered, and stubborn. Throughout ‘Warrior’s Gate’, Rorvik spends most of his time failing to understand what is happening; whereas Lane is not intelligent enough to be troubled by his own lack of understanding, Rorvik becomes increasingly exasperated, progressing from short-tempered retorts and cutting remarks in the first two episodes, until by Episodes Three and Four he is routinely shouting and eventually feels compelled to action simply so that he can feel like he is achieving something. By this point, he refuses to take time to seriously think out the increasingly reckless courses of action he is taking, working instead on the principle that everything has its breaking point. He doesn’t understand the Gateway, and doesn’t want to listen when the Doctor tries to talk to him; all he knows is that the Gateway is his means of escaping from the void, and therefore if he breaks the mirrors he’ll be doing something useful. Ultimately, this stubborn adherence to an assumption that is in fact wrong is his undoing; during his final scene, in which rants that he’s “finally getting something done!”, he’s almost euphoric for that very reason; he feels that he has taken control of his fate at last. He is of course quite right; his insistence on using a back blast to try and smash the mirrors destroys himself, his ship, and his crew. 

The regulars are also served well by the splendid script; Tom Baker continues to impress in his final season, and displays both fascination as he learns about the Gateway, and quiet anger at the slave trading of the Tharils in the past and Rorvik in the present. Incredibly, Matthew Waterhouse is quite good here, leading credence to the theory that Adric always worked better with the Fourth Doctor. The two continue to demonstrate a teacher and pupil relationship, Adric taking delight in every new discovery and looking forward to the prospect of exploring N-Space. He also gets one or two nice lines, which Waterhouse delivers well, such as when K9 gives a report on his operational status and Adric gentle asks, “You mean you’re worse than useless?” All of the regulars get some great lines, especially of course, Romana, but none are more memorable than those uttered by the Doctor during Romana’s leaving scene. And what a leaving scene it is; throughout ‘Warrior’s Gate’, Romana spends most of her time separated from the Doctor and forced to manage without him. She does it beautifully, and her condemnation of Rorvik’s crew, her championing of the Tharils, and her final line to Adric in which she literally mimics the Doctor, all create the impression that Romana is ready to strike out on her own. She has, ultimately, learned enough from the Doctor to follow in his footsteps in E-Space, and even makes the decision to, in a sense, go on the run from her own people by staying where they’ll never be able to find her. Wisely, this particularly close Doctor/companion pairing is not given a protracted farewell; forced to make a quick decision, she flees with K9 and Biroc to the Gateway, as the Doctor joyfully cries after her “You were the noblest Romana of them all!” It’s a brief but somehow fitting farewell, nicely followed up by the very last line of the story as Adric asks if she’ll be all right and the Doctor replies, “All right? She’ll be superb!” And least we forget K9 too makes his departure, which even more than Romana’s leaving somehow heralds, for me, the approaching end of the Tom Baker era, possibly because whilst K9 only debuted during the Williams era, he is such an easily recognizable icon from the series. For his final story, he is once more subjected to considerable damage, which is used to explain the need for him to stay with Romana, but he also, fittingly, gets plenty to do as he trundles pathetically around the void offering what help he can to the Doctor and Adric. 

With such good acting (I haven’t mentioned him above, but David Weston is very good as the noble Biroc) and such a good script, ‘Warrior’s Gate’ is doing well, but as if this wasn’t enough the production is superb. The direction is first class, as are the model work, the special effects, the set designs, and Peter Howell’s incidental score. The make-up used for the Tharils is excellent, as are the costumes for the crew, the Gundan robots and the Tharils. It is for all of these reasons that ‘Warrior’s Gate’ is by far my favourite story of Season Eighteen.

There seems to be a theory in Doctor Who fandom that Logopolis is one of the best stories to have ever been transmitted and that it is a fitting and climatic end to the ultimate Doctor’s reign. Well I say dog doo-doos to that and more besides. Logopolis is no-where near the best Doctor Who story, it certainly isn’t the best Tom Baker story and it’s not even the best of season eighteen. It’s a story that aspires to greatness but never quite reaches it, that teases with a coherent storyline but instead delights in frustrating a random viewer. It is the weakest Christopher H Bidmead story by a square mile and reveals that the poor guy is running out of steam after practically re-writing every single story for the season (or so he claims). 

Often praised is the feeling of doom throughout, that teeth chattering sense of unease as we approach the end of the fourth Doctor. I have to agree whole-heartedly that Tom Baker, director Peter Grimwade and musician Paddy Kingsland all work hard as hell to make sure that any feeling of entertainment is sucked out of the end result. The story is just too depressing, never ending doom, brotherly rivalry, universal destruction, portents of death…oh yes perfect for those of us who want to dissect the thing and explore all the emotional nuances but not a whole lot of fun to watch. For me the Tom Baker years epitomise what was great about Doctor Who, no matter which producers term you dip into there is a touch of magic to be found (hard as nails Hinchcliffe, fluffy Williams or polished JNT) but they truly missed the point with his swansong, a depressing hour and a half devoted to mathematics.

Ladies and gentlemen will you all give a warm round of applause to that sparkling personality from the land of Oz…Teeeegaaaan Jovankaaaa! The feeling that all hope for the series has finally arrived in the form of a hysterical, wrist-flapping ball of anger. Janet Fielding’s entrance is actually not as bad as I feared; there is some attempt to create a likable person here. At least in episode one…her scenes with her jolly Aunty Vanessa are a joy and (for me) the highpoint of the tale because it injects a little humour. Tegan’s reaction to stumbling into the TARDIS is probably the most natural since Ian and Barbara way back in 1963…sheer horror. Unfortunately this leads to endless tiresome scenes of the woman wandering the corridors and blubbing, which quickly dispel any idea that she might be an empowered female companion. To be frank it’s a pretty poor performance by Janet Fielding whatever way you look at it…she can’t do angry (“I DEMAND TO SEE WHOEVERS IN CHARGE OF THIS SHIP!”) or happiness (“EARTH!” she screams at the camera in what I’m sure is supposed to be funny) or revulsion (“You revolting man!” she spits with a rather pathetic slap) and alas even regular informative dialogue seems to be a challenge (just listen to how amateurishly she says “Nyssa and Adric have gone after the Master!”). Like a whirlwind of emotion I can see how some Mikes enjoy her ‘drama’ (because hey it provided a bit of spice in an otherwise bland era!) but if I were on board the TARDIS I would risk the vacuum of space over an adventure with her. 

After his spectacular return in The Keeper of Traken this is the story that tips the Master back into melodramatic territory. Taking over universe? What again? Doesn’t he ever get tired of that same old plan that is inevitably thwarted by you know Who. I understand the purpose of the Master in this story…to bring the universe to the brink of collapse as a backdrop for the even more powerful drama between the Doctor and his archenemy (there is a delicious touch of Holmes/Moriarty as the Doctor and the Master stand at a great height and tussle). I realise Bidmead wants the Doctor to go out in a blaze of glory, defeating pure evil but I cannot invest an ounce of credibility in the Master when he is played with such cartoonish conviction by Anthony Ainley. The man who gave us the sensitive and thoughtful Tremas just one story ago seems to have lost all sense of subtlety and poured into a mock-evil costume he never, ever seems capable of the catastrophic events he causes here. How someone as goonish as the Master could wipe out half the bloody universe is beyond me…hey maybe there’s hope for Scrappy Doo yet! Without a strong, believable villain this story (and particularly the climax) is sabotaged beyond repair. He is given little motive (and after recovering from his emaciated state you might think he would want to hide out for a while instead of leaping back into the universal domination game) besides being evil and that just exposes how flimsy a villain he was all along. Basically he destroys stuff because he’s the Master…that’s just what he does. Boring lazy writing. Frankly after a year of excellent baddies I expected more. 

Miaow! Get the claws away Joe! Unfortunately I cannot because the entire story is just one (padded) long-winded excuse to get the Doctor to the top of that tower and fall off. It seems to abandon all sense of structure by diverting itself wherever it pleases to fit the JNT series changes. The first episode is just an excuse to introduce Tegan…there is little other reason to spend half an hour on a bypass (except to measure a police box…hmm), the second wastes plenty of time on the Doctor’s foolish and inexplicably stupid scheme to ‘flush’ out the Master. The story doesn’t actually begin until the end of the second episode until we reach Logopolis but that’s where the tedium really settles in…

Whilst the idea of a planet being held together by pure mathematics is an intriguing one (albeit a little dull…why can’t we have a planet made out of treacle?) the execution of Logopolis is dire. We are talking original Star Trek style ‘outside’ sets here, bushy wigged nerds hiding in polystyrene rock alcoves and (most brilliantly of all) cardboard cut out rows of actors to give the impression that there are far more people involved in this project than there actually are! The model shot of Logopolis doesn’t seem to tie in with the sets either and unfortunately before we can get to the actual content of the story the visuals are embarrassing and distracting. 

These sequences are boring. There I said it. With the Doctor stuck in a shrinking TARDIS, Nyssa shoehorned into the action from no-where and being controlled by the Master in her fathers body, Tegan shrieking and Adric reading out a bunch of sums I cannot say this exactly thrill a minute. Suddenly from no-where it appears that Logopolis is responsible for holding the entire universe together (say what???) and the Master has set about its (and Logopolises) destruction. There is also some guff about CVEs that non-regular viewer Joe Bloggs does not have clue about and does not care that it was set up way back when in Full Circle. Cue lots of cardboard stone bouncing around the set and a desperate rush to Earth to make sure that entropy is filtered through the CVEs and not into the universe. This sudden revelation would carry more weight had it been set up with a few hints but it just feels like whack bam…there’s the danger now we’ve got Tegan, Nyssa and the Master involved…deal with it. Besides does that mean all these other universe is getting all our crap flushed into them? In the end of the day it’s a bunch of non-characters (does anybody honestly see any depth to Adric, Tegan, Nyssa, the Monitor or the Master?) chatting about universal devastation the likes of which could never be portrayed on screen convincingly. 

Its only when things return to Earth that events get a little bit exciting. I hate to admit this but my favourite scene in Logopolis is when the Doctor and co are being chased by the guards around the Pharos Project to some reject seventies chase music. It’s exhilarating and fun and silly…everything Doctor Who should be. Plus the location work here is lovely, a gorgeous sunny morning, perfect for running about in. 

What’s the deal with the Watcher? Is there ever an explanation as to why this wraith like creature should disturb the fourth Doctor in his last days? Its another mystery is a script that is full of wrong decisions and unanswered questions. Yes Tom Baker’s haunted reaction to the creature is spine tingling but it serves no real purpose but to remind us that Tom is leaving. Oh boo hoo, get over it. It pads out the story a bit more too. Those fans who said they cried when he fell off the tower and melts into the Watcher need to get out more, this isn’t emotional drama…its audience manipulation and Doctor Who rarely stoops to such levels. The fifth Doctor’s heroic sacrifice for Peri…now that was tear jerking but some ghost who pops up to say “Oi you… you’re gonna die!” that’s just silly. 

Tom Baker did deserve a big finish and certainly saving the entire universe seems the way to go. However saving the entire universe by pulling out a wire…that’s an anti-climax. And again he is let down by an unspectacular array of poor special FX which undermine the gravity of the event. Season eighteen looks GORGEOUS for fucks sakes why the hell couldn’t you have saved a bit of money for THE most important event of the last seven years? It’s bloody Planet of the Spiders all over again. Gaah…it just makes me so mad that money mad producer JNT could not lavish more time and money on this seminal moment. Simon watched this with me and laughed himself silly when he saw the dolly Tom hanging on the wire and cardboard cut out Master giggling behind the Doctor as dish rotates. The flashbacks are cute and almost make you forget how amateurish this all is. 

And if things weren’t bad enough already…the story closes on Peter Davison grinning. Ladies and gentlemen we have our new Doctor. Oh vomit. 

Logopolis is given far too much credit for being different but what people fail to mention is that it has no heart. Season seventeen may have sucked when it came to production values but it always had plenty of heart, lots of fantastic characterisation and a rock solid plot. Logopolis meanders all over the place and is populated by unconvincing ciphers who fail to light up the screen; it has some big ideas but never explores them properly or engagingly through the characters. And the Master is a big prat. Besides some witty dialogue and the genuinely marvellous scene where Nyssa watches her planet be destroyed there is nothing here worth seeing. 

A must see because of its climax but not because of its content, this could be the most depressing Doctor Who story ever.