‘The Evil of the Daleks’ is a masterpiece. Based on the soundtrack and episode two alone, it vies with ‘The Power of the Daleks’ for the title of my favourite Second Doctor story and it is one of my top ten favourite Doctor Who stories of all time. The reasons for this are many.

Firstly, the characterisation is superb. Whitaker always excels at this, and here is no exception. In episode one alone, we meet four characters, three of who are not present for most of the rest of the story, but who are all satisfying characters in their own right. Bob Hall, Kennedy, and Perry all play their parts in luring the Doctor and Jamie to Waterfield’s antiques shop, but they also serve another purpose in that they allow us to learn about the character of Edward Waterfield. We know from very early on that he is working for the Daleks and is luring the Doctor into a trap, which would normally be enough to make him a villain. Instead, via conversations between Waterfield and Kennedy and Waterfield and Perry, we learn more about his true character; clearly he is under enormous stress caused in part by his current actions, and is a reluctant conspirator. This is obvious from his fraught conversation with the Dalek in the hidden room, but the feeling is enhanced by his concern for Bob Hall when Kennedy explains that he knocked him out – Waterfield is clearly not accustomed to, or comfortable with, violence. He is also slightly aggrieved when Perry tells his employer that he won’t do anything “dicey”; Perry has clearly gathered that Waterfield’s strange behaviour has more to it than he is being allowed to see, but whilst this is true, Waterfield in turn is clearly unhappy that Perry believes that he might be a criminal. Finally, at the beginning of episode two, Waterfield discovers the corpse of the exterminated Kennedy and in that moment is shown to be completely out of his depth, as he almost breaks down on the spot. This then, is the secondary function of these characters; whilst they advance the plot by getting the Doctor to Waterfield and ultimately to the Daleks, they also allow us to gain insight into Waterfield’s character. That they are so well defined as characters is testament to the writing skills of David Whitaker. In short, whilst they are to an extent padding, they never actually feel like padding, so well portrayed are they. Likewise, later in the story we have Toby and Arthur Terrall, both of whom are seemingly superfluous to the larger plot; indeed, we never do learn why exactly Terrall ordered Toby to kidnap Jamie. Closer scrutiny reveals however that they play a subtler role; Arthur Terrall is under Dalek control, but the process used is erratic. Whilst it is clearly more advanced than the technology used to create the zombie-like Robomen in ‘The Dalek Invasion of Earth’ since it allows Terrall to retain his intelligence and personality, it is unreliable, since he frequently shakes free of the Dalek influence, leaving him confused and disorientated. Toby is used to demonstrate this, by presenting Terrall with Jamie and demanding his payment, causing both Jamie and subsequently the Doctor to realize that all is not well with him. This may seem trivial, but once the Daleks’ true plans are revealed, it makes sense, since the Daleks clearly cannot reliably control humans in this manner and therefore perfect the Dalek Factor instead; once processed, Maxtible is the perfect human servant, combining the loyalty and dedication of the Robomen with the intelligence of the original human. Toby also serves another purpose, since his extermination allows us to contrast Waterfield’s earlier reaction to Kennedy’s death with Maxtible’s far more self-serving reaction…

Maxtible and Waterfield are crucial to the success of ‘The Evil of the Daleks’. Here we see two men, both working with the Daleks, but for entirely different reasons and with hugely different characters. Waterfield is motivated by a desire to have his daughter released by the Daleks, which is his sole reason for abducting the Doctor and Jamie and going along with the Daleks’ schemes. John Bailey’s performance is outstanding, making Waterfield a hugely sympathetic figure and conveying a feeling throughout that Waterfield is close to a complete breakdown, caused by concern for Victoria and guilt at his part in the deaths of Kennedy and Toby and his part in a plan that he believes will make the Daleks invincible. Bailey is so convincing that it is hard to believe that he’s actually acting at times, genuinely seeming emotionally exhausted right up until the final episode. Waterfield’s sacrifice, his own life for the Doctor’s, seems appropriate to his character. He tells Maxtible that once he has Victoria back, he will confess his part in the entire affair, including the death of Toby and is clearly seeking to redeem himself for his part in the Daleks’ plan; in saving the Doctor he finds this redemption, and as the Doctor promises to the dying man that he will take care of Victoria, he seems to also finally, find some peace. It is a surprisingly touching moment, demonstrating Whitaker’s ability to make the viewer care about supporting characters just as much as the regulars. Maxtible on the other hand (flamboyantly portrayed by Marius Goring), is a willing accomplice in the Daleks’ schemes, having been promised the secret of transforming “metal into gold!”, and therefore unimaginable wealth and power. He is motivated purely by greed, with a callous disregard for Waterfield, who clearly considers him a friend, and also his daughter and her boyfriend, the latter of whom he regards with clinical interest as Terrall suffers under Dalek control. It is inevitable that Maxtible will pay the price for his alliance with the Daleks, just as Mavic Chen did in ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’. Despite this comparison however, Chen and Maxtible are very different characters. Chen was fully aware of the Daleks’ reputation and did not trust them in the slightest, but considered the risks of an alliance to be worthwhile, since the possible gains far outweighed them. Maxtible however, underestimates the Daleks from the start. He seems to genuinely believe, in spite of increasing evidence to the contrary, that he has entered into an arrangement with the Daleks, which they will honour. When he impatiently confronts a Dalek over their delay in honoring their side of the bargain, he finds himself physically attacked and is clearly frightened by this; immediately after the Dalek leaves however, he frantically justifies its response, obviously trying to convince himself that the Daleks simply have their own way of going about their affairs, which is different from his own, but that this doesn’t automatically mean that he cannot trust them. He is, in short, blinded by greed. Significantly, shortly after this confrontation, he sets about manipulating Terrall into obeying him, assuring him that the Daleks are confident in Maxtible’s judgement; having had his authority challenged by the Daleks, he desperately needs to assert it elsewhere and chooses Terrall because he is a vulnerable target. In addition, it was Terrall who stopped him from shooting Waterfield earlier on, at which time it was Terrall who was in a position of authority, and by reversing this Maxtible restores his self-confidence. However much he tries to convince himself that he is going to benefit from his alliance with the Daleks however, it is repeatedly made clear to him how woefully mistaken he is; the destruction of his house is the most obvious example, but once on Skaro he still tries to justify the Daleks actions, because the lure of what they offer is so strong; he impotently chastises them like naughty school children, only to have his confident façade shattered once more as he is threatened with severe consequences for failing to bring the Doctor to Skaro. Later, in the cell, he tries to convince Victoria and Kemel that he is the only person who can mediate with the Daleks in their behalf, but he is again trying to convince himself of his own importance rather than his companions. Tellingly, he also tries to convince them of the need to mollify him if they want to benefit from his supposed friendship with the Daleks; here, he seems to be finally realizing that he has made a series of terrible mistakes, and wants to ally himself with his fellow humans because he is at that point rejected by both them and the Daleks. This selfish remorse is swiftly dispelled however, when the Daleks finally offer him the secret of transforming metal into gold; once more blinded by greed, he refuses to heed the Doctor’s warnings and surrenders his humanity to the Dalek factor. 

The regulars are well served by ‘The Evil of the Daleks’, with both Troughton and Hines impressing as usual, and Deborah Watling getting a strong debut. I’ve noted that in both ‘The Macra Terror’ and ‘The Faceless Ones’, the Doctor seems to be enjoying getting involved enormously. This story is no exception, but on this occasion, he makes a serious error of judgement. During the first two episodes he is motivated by the need to recover his ship, and as he solves the clues provided by Waterfield to lure him into the trap, he gets to show off his deductive skills, easily following the trail of the TARDIS to the antique shop. This part of the story has been criticized for the fact that these clues are rather too obscure, but I don’t think this is really the case; the only leap he really has to make is finding the matches, and going to the coffee shop where they were purchased. Prior to that, he simply follows the blatantly suspect Bob Hall, and afterwards Perry meets him and tells him where to go. Having been transported back in time to 1866, he is immediately intrigued by the plight of Waterfield and Maxtible, and is clearly burning with curiosity as they begin to explain. When the Dalek actually bursts out of the cabinet however, the look on Troughton’s face is a testament to his acting talents, combing horror and even fear at having realized just who has set the trap that he calmly walked into. Having learned of what he thinks is the Daleks’ plan however, he soon settles into his previous pattern of trying to manipulate his opponents. He is obviously wary of the Daleks, gravely confirming Waterfield’s fears about how deadly they really are, but he quickly seems to become absorbed by his task of monitoring Jamie’s progress through Maxtible’s house in search of Victoria Waterfield. His irrepressible curiosity also comes to the fore once more, during a wonderfully quotable scene in which he confronts the controlled but unstable Terrall and tells him “I am not a student of human nature, I am a professor of a far wider academy of which human nature is only a part. All forms of life interest me.” More than anything however, it his manipulative streak that is most obvious, as he helps the Daleks because he strongly suspects that introducing the Human Factor into them will not have the effect that he thinks they desire. Ultimately, he is able to turn this fact to his advantage and the possible final destruction of the Daleks on Skaro, but he almost comes undone as the Emperor reveals its real plan… Whilst I’ve never seen the missing episode six, I can always imagine the smug look on the Doctor’s face as he proclaims “I’ve defeated you, I don’t care what you do to me now”, and I can always imagine his face falling as the Emperor retorts “The Human Factor showed us what the Dalek Factor is”. Ultimately, it his only his immunity to the Dalek Factor, not predicted by the Emperor, that allows him to finally defeat the Daleks. During the final episode, as the Doctor salvages victory, he is once again frantic, cajoling humanized Daleks into fighting the Emperor’s black-domed Daleks and telling them to ask the Emperor why they must obey orders. As he leaves Skaro and looks down on the carnage, the relief in his voice as he quietly mutters “the final end” is palpable. The entire story encompasses some of Troughton’s finest moments. Jamie (and indeed, Frazer Hines) meanwhile gets his own chance to shine, as he takes centre stage during episodes three to five. Inevitably, the largely action based sequences as he narrowly avoids the plethora of traps prepared by Maxtible and the Daleks don’t work as well on audio as they probably did in the original television story, but Jamie still comes across well without the visuals. His determination to save Victoria and do what he sees as the right thing regardless of the Doctor’s seeming objections emphasizes that he is not just the Doctor’s loyal companion, but a decent and heroic character in his own right; we’ve seen his bravery before when he faced two Macra in the tunnel and later boarded the Chameleon Tours aeroplane, but here he is at his bravest and most resourceful, overcoming every obstacle in his path. More than that however, we get to see other character traits as he saves and quickly befriends Kemel. In addition, his reconciliation with the Doctor in episode five cements their friendship once more, and really establishes the bond between that characterizes this Doctor/Companion relationship. Victoria also impresses; whilst she is clearly there to fill the traditional screaming female companion role, she is far braver and more resilient than a closeted Victorian upbringing might suggest. Although clearly terrified and on the edge of hysteria whilst a prisoner of the Daleks, in her very first scene she is also defiant in as much as she dares. Later, as soon as she has other human company, she seems to draw strength from it; when she, Kemel and Maxtible are imprisoned on Skaro, she focuses on her concern for Kemel rather than on her own fear, and makes her contempt for Maxtible plain, as well as continuing to show defiance to the Daleks. Because she remains a prisoner for most of the story, she gets very little else to do, but these character traits and Deborah Watling’s portrayal make Victoria instantly likeable.

Finally, there are the Daleks themselves. If they were cunning and manipulative in ‘The Power of the Daleks’, then here they are positively Machiavellian. The cliffhanger to episode six, which I’ve mentioned above, is a classic moment, made all the more memorable by the revelation of the visually impressive (judging by the photographs at least) Emperor Dalek. 

The Emperor is a creation that I’m particularly fond of, despite the fact that only appears for little more than one episode. The reason that I like it is because it provides a focal point for the Daleks’ absolute evil, a central governing mastermind sitting like a spider at the heart of the Dalek Empire. And frankly, I just think it looks and sounds great, which is why I’m glad that Big Finish have used it in their Dalek Empire stories. According to Andrew Pixley’s archive in Doctor Who Magazine issue 200, after the final battle at the very end of episode seven, the lights in its shattered casing come back on, to indicate that this may not be the final end of the Daleks, and I like to think that the Emperor, in some ways the Doctor’s ultimate enemy at this point in the series’ history, survives. The scope of the Daleks’ plan rivals that in ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’, as they scheme to “spread the Dalek Factor through the entire history of Earth”, and achieve a total victory over humanity. They almost succeed, but in the end and thanks to the Doctor, they instead are defeated by humanity, as massed ranks of Daleks are infected with the Human Factor and civil war breaks out. Despite the unfortunate use of toy Daleks, the surviving special effects footage shows an impressively mounted and explosive climax, which is a fitting end to the last Dalek story of the nineteen-sixties. Finally, the humanized Daleks are a memorable curiosity, the incongruity of a Dalek announcing “He is my friend” and “I will not obey” leaving a lasting impression. It contrasts nicely with the Daleks announcing, “I am your servant” during ‘The Power of the Daleks’, because whereas that was said in the normal Dalek monotone, the humanized Daleks sound different due to greater vocal inflection introduced by the voice artistes to great effect. 

Overall then, ‘The Evil of the Daleks’ is deserving of the label “classic” and is a superb end to Season Four. Despite the mixed quality of the season and the poor use of the Ben, Polly and Jamie companion combination, the change in lead actor is achieved effectively, with Troughton quickly making the role his own. With a new status quo established amongst the TARDIS crew, everything is ready for Troughton’s first full season…

‘Fury From the Deep’ is another base-under-siege story, but is sufficiently distinctive in several key respects to stand out from its immediate predecessor. Firstly, nobody in it dies. Secondly, as noted in The Discontinuity Guide, it features a strong female authority figure in the shape of Megan Jones, which is very unusual during this era. Finally of course, it marks the departure of Victoria.

‘Fury From the Deep’ (which I think is a great title, incidentally) survives the transition to audio much better than ‘The Web of Fear’ does, thanks to the highly distinctive use of the heartbeat sound made by the weed creatures. We are sadly robbed of the sight of tides of foam filling the refinery, but the pulsing heartbeat is still effective. The weed is an unusual menace, but it works well, partly because we learn so little about it, and because even in the original serial as filmed, it was barely ever seen. Whereas the Yetis and the Ice Warriors worked because they were physically imposing menaces, the weed works because it is almost amorphous, attacking with the ubiquitous foam, and toxic gas. The actual weed creature itself vies with the Rills and Celation for the dubious honour of being Doctor Who’s most poorly visually represented monster, given that no episodes of the story survive. Happily, scant footage of it does exist, in the form of the behind the scenes effects sequence included on The Missing Years video in ‘The Ice Warriors’ boxed set, and to be fair it looks quite good, but most of the finest scenes in ‘Fury From the Deep’ seem to be those where little is seen; Van Lutyens’ horrified pronouncement that “It’s down there. In the darkness. In the pipeline. Waiting” at the end of episode one as the heartbeat grows steadily louder is chilling, and similarly his scream as he taken by the seaweed in the impeller shaft makes this another tense moment. The entire story is full of claustrophobic moments such as this, including Victoria trapped in the oxygen store, and Robson being taken over in his cabin as foam surges in through a vent; this may be another base under siege story, but on this occasion, the enemy can come and go at will and cannot be locked out. 

In addition to this effective use of the foam and heartbeat sound effect, the menace in ‘Fury From the Deep’ is also effective from another angle, which is its ability to take over humans. For one thing, this only underscores the fact that the weed cannot be locked out of the base, since it has servants inside who help it throughout the story. It is the same principle as knowing that the Great Intelligence has someone working for it in ‘The Web of Fear’, but here the viewer knows who the traitors are and this too is used to build suspense; when the Doctor and Jamie are down the impeller shaft, and Oak and Quill are left in charge of the elevator, the viewer (or listener) is instantly aware that this means trouble. And then of course, there is that surviving censor clip of the pair of them in Maggie Harris’s bedroom. Oak and Quill work because they look unthreatening, almost comical, until they open their mouths and breathe toxic gas; I don’t think the scene is quite as terrifying as some fans would have us believe, but it is grotesquely horrible. In addition, prior to them actually doing this, the sinister incidental score makes it clear that they are a threat, and this also adds to the tension as Maggie is obviously at the mercy of these two strange men whom she has let into her house. Later, as Maggie fully succumbs to the weed’s influence and meets with Robson on the beach at the end of episode three, we get another creepy moment, as she calmly walks out into the sea. By the end of the story we find out that she survived, but at that moment she seems like a zombie, robbed of all free will, calmly and without resistance walking to her death. The weed’s sensitivity to noise, as well as being a plot device to give Victoria an important role in the resolution of her final story, also adds to the overall sinister air, because it results in the weed’s victims speaking softly; unlike the malevolent sibilant hiss of the possessed Padmasambhava in ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, this has a more subtle effect. Whilst not chilling in itself, Robson’s calm voice as he tells the Doctor to join the weed at the beginning of episode six makes it sound wholly reasonable that the Doctor should submit his free will and in some ways Robson’s quiet acceptance of what has happened to him is far more disturbing than if he had been forcefully insisting that resistance is useless. Finally, the physical effect of the weed’s influence, the fronds protruding from its victims skin, also looks rather creepy, at least based on the telesnap evidence. 

One of the interesting things about the weed creatures is that we never find out much about them. We know that they have been around for some time, thanks to the Doctor’s book of naval legends, but we don’t know if they are from Earth or outer space. We also don’t know why they suddenly want to colonize. It is strongly hinted that they are not intelligent per se, but derive their intelligence from their human victims, which would explain why they were content to lurk at the bottom of the North Sea until they came into contact with the rig personnel. It is unusual to have a menace in Doctor Who about which we learn so little and could be potentially frustrating, but here it merely makes the threat more mysterious. 

The supporting cast is generally pretty good in ‘Fury From the Deep’, although only a handful of the supporting characters really stand out. The Harrises are rather wet, and the Chief and Perkins are fairly forgettable, but Robson, Van Lutyens and Megan Jones are memorably well portrayed. Robson is the first of only two examples of an unstable base commander, supposedly a recurring feature during the Troughton era. Against the advice of his staff and all common sense, he repeatedly refuses to turn off the gas because he’s afraid of ruining his reputation. As the Doctor suggests, in this regard he comes across as a rather silly man, and he’s so bad tempered that he must be a nightmare to work for. The Chief notes that under normal situations he is excellent at his job, but as Van Lutyens retorts, “these are not normal circumstances”. Nevertheless, his descent into paranoia and breakdown is rather rapid even given the circumstances and he’s obviously got a chip on his shoulder when it comes to taking advice from Harris or Van Lutyens. Since Megan Jones does not seem like the sort of person to hand out jobs to her friends if she doesn’t genuinely think they are suited to the task however, this rather suggests that he has his good points. Indeed, this is hinted at early on when to Van Lutyens’ disbelief he manages to reduce the gas pressure and avert an explosion, suggesting that he does, as he claims, know every nut and bolt of the rigs and refinery. At the end of the story, with the weed gone, he also seems far more laid back than he did at the start and seems genuinely popular with his staff. Regardless of the character’s merits, Victor Maddern acts the part very convincingly, especially during the scenes with Megan Jones when his old friend comforts the tormented controller. He’s also very good during the scenes when Robson takes Victoria hostage, and later confronts the Doctor on the rig, conveying quiet menace and avoiding going over the top.

John Abineri, fully equipped with the most convincing foreign accent in Doctor Who to date, superbly portrays Van Lutyens. The character’s frustration with the stubborn Robson and his determination to deal with the crisis both come across well, and his ill-fated investigation of the base of the impeller demonstrates that he isn’t afraid to face the threat of the weed head on. He’s essentially rather likeable, attempting to be diplomatic with Robson, but otherwise seeming to easily earn the respect of Harris, the Chief, and even the Doctor. In much the same vein, Megan Jones is portrayed as a sensible authority figure, which is rather unusual in Doctor Who, as typified by the fact that she listens to the Doctor and quickly learns to trust him. The fact that she is female is, as noted, even more unusual for this era. 

Unusually, I find that the Doctor benefits here from being able to get to the TARDIS half way through, when he examines a sample of the weed. Very often, the Doctor is separated from the TARDIS to stop him from being able to escape; the fact that he can reach it here emphasizes the fact that he doesn’t matter whether he can escape or not, because he won’t whilst people are in danger. Troughton is particularly good at conveying a feeling of quiet strength and compassion, and he’s never more striking as the Doctor than when he’s wearing a quiet frown and determining how to defeat whatever threat he’s facing. His gentle handling of Victoria’s desire to leave is also thoroughly endearing. But Troughton also portrays the other aspects of the Doctor well, for example his alarm as he and Jamie are confronted by the rising tide of foam in the impeller shaft, and his obvious glee, even on audio, at getting the chance to pilot a helicopter. Jamie gets to show a more sensitive side than usual, as he is obviously heart-broken by Victoria’s desire to leave. His touching concern for her is demonstrated earlier too, when he finds her unconscious after Oak and Quill have dragged her away. His despondency as he and the Doctor wave goodbye to her on the TARDIS scanner always makes me wonder exactly how much he likes her… 

Victoria’s departure is very well handled. Having been repeatedly frightened during her travels in the TARDIS, especially when Varga kidnapped and bullied her, and after being held hostage by a possessed Professor Travers and a Yeti, her utter weariness at being afraid is thoroughly convincing. It is signposted throughout the story, as she bemoans the fact that the TARDIS always lands in trouble, and it makes for a much smoother departure than, for example, Ben and Polly’s abrupt spur-of-the-moment decision. Appropriately, she gets an important role in her final story, as her screams are the solution to the problem of the noise-sensitive weed, which is a nice touch given that she hasn’t really been of much help to the Doctor during the past two stories. I rather like the fact that after Victoria tells the Doctor and Jamie that she is staying with the Harrises they both stay overnight to say a proper farewell. Companion departures are generally rather hurried affairs, and it’s quite nice that, for a change, one of them gets to really say goodbye. And the Doctor quietly telling Jamie that he was fond of her too carries just as much emotion as Jamie’s more obvious unhappiness. 

Overall then, ‘Fury From the Deep’ is a great monster story, and a fine departure story for Victoria. It is an effective production and a fitting end to one of Doctor Who’s finest seasons. But unfortunately, ‘The Wheel in Space’ actually ends the season…