Sorry for stating the obvious, but The Tenth Planet is one of the five most important stories the show ever did, along with 100 000 B.C., The Daleks, The War Games and The Deadly Assassin (just my list, by the way, feel free to make your own). The reason I mention it is that it’s the worst story of those five: it’s frequently viewed as one of the programme’s most enduring classics but for my money it undershoots ever so slightly. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a strong story and better than the other Doctor’s swan songs bar The War Games and The Caves Of Androzani, but it’s not made of gold. Part of the reason for this was out of the production’s hands and I’ll deal with that later; equally though Kit Pedler and Gerry Davis weren’t quite the writing team yet that made the razor-sharp The Tomb Of The Cybermen, and Davis doesn’t quite do Pedler’s idea justice. That said, it’s still a very good story when not viewed in the context of its slightly inflated reputation. Most of the criticisms are levelled against the second half though, so it gets off to a very strong start.

It begins with some above average stock footage that for once doesn’t look like it was found in a cesspit and some unique titles. They are the only really well made ones of all the specially made titles too, not being tedious, amusingly dated or fit-inducing. However, their inability to spell the writers’ names correctly does give them a certain amateurish, home-made feel.

This is a rare example of a depiction of the future that isn’t half bad, with ordinary dress (we’d have to wait until Planet Of Evil before we got spacesuits with shoulder pads and flares) and a multinational crew of the polar base (a Pedler / Davis trademark). However, I have to hand it to The Discontinuity Guide: they are right to point out that it is an all-male cast save for Polly and Wigner’s secretary (whose one line, “toot sweet”, leads me to wonder how seriously she was taking it). In fact, I should expand on this by pointing out that in all three of their collaborations the writers show women making coffee. It wouldn’t be until The Wheel In Space that a woman would be seen in a position of genuine authority in a Cyberman story. I’m no feminist, but…

The swirly incidental music seems a bit melodramatic now and is the kind of thing I’d expect to find on a comedy programme, although this does have the first use of the awesome Cyberman theme. The girly pictures on the wall of the sleeping quarters are really quite radical for the time (although they don’t do Pedler and Davies any favours), and Tito is stereotyped in the extreme: I wince at every “Mama Mia!” he screams. William Hartnell performs well in this story, belying his illness. Ben and Polly are also good and were a very strong duo, although the hero / damsel in distress characterisations date them badly. Still, they’re a good looking, fun pair and it’s a shame so little of their time survives.

It’s right that a police box wouldn’t be recognised in 1986 (no one was watching Doctor Who by then, you see). The story is generally well-directed although there are more boom mike shadows than usual. The tracking room is an impressive set and location of some very dramatic scenes, although at this stage I’m wondering why the American Sergeant is suddenly their best friend. The moon landing description was an in joke made funnier by future events, although the idea that it would still be continuing in 1986 was strangely optimistic.

The plot’s a latecomer in this story, with the first episode being almost half over before anything other than initial scene setting happens. It’s a great, enigmatic start though, with a mysterious force affecting the crew of a space craft. What could it be? Nigel Kneale’s lawyers would very much like to know. Even in 1966 though the idea of Mondas not being detected until it had almost clonked into Earth like a cue ball is hard to credit and an early example of the flaws in Pedler’s and Davis’s embryonic writing partnership, and the fact that everyone is arguing about whether the continents match Earth when really the planet is simply Earth upside down makes me sometimes feel that this story works better on audio from the start (not to mention that it’s scientific nonsense, which Dr. Pedler should have known). Barclay goes over the plot points in very simple, childish logic (“do you suppose that massive planet might have something to do with the mysterious gravitational anomalies?”), but “we must get them down!” is a dramatic line well delivered by David Dodimead. It’s also interesting that the Doctor knows of Mondas already: it is implied in The Five Doctors that the Cybermen where tried out in the Death Zone in the ancient histories of Gallifrey…[pause while head is removed from backside]…it’s nice how these things unintentionally interlock, isn’t it? (The Tenth Planet and The Five Doctors by the way, not my head and…oh never mind).

The modelwork is good (better than The Moonbase’s), and the Cybermen’s introduction is terrific, with three mysterious figures coming out of the snow, initially too far away to be seen clearly. The final pan up the arm is also good, even if the Cybermen in close up do look a little silly. The only real sore point is the way they shed their cloaks but pause dramatically before killing the humans, which just looks cheesy.

The first scene with the Cybermen is well written, dramatic and possibly the most important of the story (barring the regeneration scene) as it establishes backstory that makes the Cybermen such good monsters, and also that plays a significant role in most subsequent stories featuring them. Here is the major problem with them though: their costumes, while innovative, are cumbersome and too delicate to be practical meaning that they are largely reduced to standing around talking. Their voices, while original and unique, do get irritating after a while. The idea of their mouths hanging open while the words stream out is brilliant, but the synchronisation is off a bit. One of their best features however is technically a goof: the actors’ eyes can be seen behind the black gauze, making it appear that their vestiges of their human form are trapped beneath far more effectively than David Banks’s silly silver chin in Earthshock. However, in terms of visuals the sellotape round their heads thoroughly torpedoes their credibility. What really makes them here is their motivation: they are interested only in their survival, not conquest like their caricatured 1980s versions. Their total lack of malice makes them all the scarier; this is what led to their downfall in their colour stories. The Cyberman’s line of “that was really most unfortunate” seems a bit out of character with their later versions (but David Banks’s book Cybermen justifies this excellently. No pun intended.).

Locked up, Ben talks to himself: an example of poor writing, where they can only get a character out of trouble by having him exhibit signs of insanity in order to advance the plot. Davis might have been a good script editor for quality producer Innes Lloyd, but at this stage he struggled a bit when (co) helming an entire story. Also, the Cyberman’s intolerance to light undermines their claim to physical superiority somewhat.

The destruction of the spaceship shows the power of understatement. Cutler’s son affects the plot only indirectly, instead being important mainly for the purposes of characterisation. It does turn General Cutler into an ‘insane leader’ clichй though (okay so I ripped that off The Discontinuity Guide as well, but a good point is a good point). The cliffhanger to part two also shows the importance of dialogue and radar screen in Doctor Who, making things that could never be shown – it also shows how effective it can be, and the power of the imagination (although I don’t call that a formation).

Episode three is where it really starts to falter. While a lot of this is down to Hartnell’s illness and so not something I should really criticise, I can’t get away from the fact that it does affect the story regardless of the lack of blame. For example, Barclay’s sudden acquisition of a backbone points to a very fast rewrite that didn’t have time to iron out the wrinkles. There are lots of minor fluffs in this episode, as the cast struggle with lines they have had to learn and rehearse too quickly. 

The Z-Bomb would be extremely poor if it was actually used; instead through its underuse it becomes an effective, omnipresent threat in the name of a saviour. Even given this though the episode is still very much an episode three, filling the gap betweens set up and climax. The Cybermen, for example, are superfluous and only in it to fulfil some sort of need to have them in the episode no matter what. There are some good stunts though, particularly Ben falling over the barrier. The countdown to launch is a good moment of tension, but countdowns usually are. They are a cheap thrill, but they do the job.

The Doctor’s sudden arrival out of nowhere at the very beginning of episode four shows the crudeness of the rewrite further – although he really goes to town for his last performance, and some clips still exist of some iconic lines. In a very out-of-character scene though, he thanks the Cybermen for killing Cutler. Also of not is Ben’s pronunciation of Mondas as “Mandos”; is this a fluff I wonder, or intentional?

The Cyberman that takes over from Wigner has the most annoying voice I’ve ever heard (the one at the base is just about bearable). Also, it’s retrospectively annoying to see they have a different weakness in every story: radiation, gravity, the cold / shoddy batteries, quick-set plastic, emotions and of course gold. Radiation makes particularly little sense as surely they could augment themselves with material that would block it from their organic components.

The Uranium rods, that just happen to be in the same room as them, are a contrivance. When the heroes escape they sit round and talk, waiting for the plot to resolve itself. I don’t have a problem with the Doctor not being involved: people complain that Hartnell should have more to do in his “epic” finale, but that is based on the standards of what came later and doesn’t therefore hold much water in my mind. My problem is that nobody at all has any fundamental involvement, which I can’t even say about Revelation Of The Daleks. The destruction of Mondas was apparently a rubbish effect, but I’d like to have seen it anyway. 

After this we have the fantastic line of “it’s far from being all over” followed by the first regeneration, and I’m truly glad that clip exists. Simple but good, miles better than the rubbish Pertwee – Baker one in 1974, while not as visually impressive as the 1980s ones it has the added bonus of being completely unexpected and unexplained, surely one of the craziest ideas ever inserted into any narrative. Without it the show would never have survived, and it’s still as mind-boggling a concept today as it was forty years ago.

Well, what can I say? The Tenth Planet is a strong story, providing a good introduction for the Cybermen, a good departure for Hartnell and a better foundation for Patrick Troughton – not to mention a hundred minutes of generally solid entertainment. But an absolute gem? Sadly, no.

The Power of the Daleks is about just that – power, and how it can twist you. Central to this idea is the character of Bragen, the security chief of the colony on Vulcan, Lesterson, the colony’s head scientist, and his assistant researcher Janley. Shortly after his first regeneration, The Doctor lands on the planet Vulcan with his companions Ben and Polly, and quickly discovers a human colony bristling with more political intrigue than The Manchurian Candidate or the American congress, whichever you prefer.

The Examiner from Earth is murdered quite literally just after introducing himself, and The Doctor, possibly hoping to bring the murderer to justice, poses as the Examiner to ingratiate himself with the colony and investigate the place himself. This would have made a pretty good plot for a story as it is, but the introduction of the crashed Dalek factory ship that cranks up the danger level. The Daleks play excellent manipulators here, deviously manoeuvring the humans into giving them the power they need to rebuild a (presumably cloned, judging from their manufacturing machinery) army of Daleks. The Doctor’s warnings of the threat posed by the Daleks go unheeded, as humanity has presumably never publicly had contact with Daleks before, so none of the colonists understand their nature as xenophobic killers.

But perhaps the most important reason why the colonists fail to understand the danger of the Daleks until it is too late, is because the principal movers and shakers on Vulcan see the Daleks as a means to further their own ends. Lesterson sees the Daleks as enormously intelligent servants who can help solve many of the economic problems of the colony, as does Vulcan’s Governor Hensell. Bragen and Janley, meanwhile, believe they can use the Daleks as weapons in their plot to overthrow Hensell’s government. All of them are destroyed when the Daleks, having gotten what they wanted, turn on their former protectors. Lesterson, Hensell, Bragen, and Janley all believe they have power over the Daleks. And that hubris destroys them, as well as Vulcan.

Bragen is the most nakedly ambitious of all the characters in Power of the Daleks. It is slowly unveiled during the course of the story that he is the one behind all the political problems on Vulcan. He successfully has his most dangerous enemy among the Vulcan government, Deputy Governor Quinn, imprisoned. We eventually learn that he masterminded the political instability on Vulcan, having turned a group of disaffected fellow colonists into an armed rebel group. The help of the Daleks allows him to speed up his plan for conquest, taking over from Hensell while the Governor is on a trip to the rural areas of the colony and killing him on his return. To add further to his status as baddest humanoid villain of this story, when he has established himself as dictator of the colony, he orders the murder of the entire rebel group who put him in charge, so that no challenges to his rule remain. The way writer David Whitaker slowly reveals Bragen as the source of all the political uprisings on Vulcan is brilliant, as you see layer after layer of his deception peeled away. 

Janley is, I think, the most interesting supporting character in Power of the Daleks. We first meet her as the vocal leader of political dissent on Vulcan, trying to encourage Lesterson to join the rebel group, and going to ruthless lengths to use the Daleks for her own revolutionary ends. We see how fanatical her devotion to her cause truly is when she conceals Resno’s death in an early experiment on the Daleks from Lesterson. Then uses it as blackmail to prevent the scientist from interfering with her plans. Later, when she is celebrating her victory with Bragen, he casually informs her that the rebels are all to be killed to consolidate his own hold on Vulcan’s government. She is crestfallen here, as she realizes that her ideals have only succeeded in putting a dictator in power. Yet she remains blinded by her original expectations of the Daleks. After the Daleks begin their massacre of the colony, she still believes that they could aid her in defeating the guards. It is Janley who leads one of the Daleks to her squad of rebels, expecting help fighting Bragen’s guards, and she is the most shocked when all her compatriots are exterminated. A minor note – some of what Janley says about the problems of the colony can be interpreted as having vaguely communist overtones. I’m not sure if this was intentional on Whitaker’s part or not, but communist revolutions on colonies in the future sounds like a good idea for the focus of some future Doctor Who story.

Lesterson too dreams of power, but scientific – not political – power. It is through this means that he is most amazed by the Daleks. He is increasingly impressed by their intelligence, and most horrified at his fairly early discovery of the malevolence. Lesterson begins the story just as arrogant and self-centred as the rest of the supporting cast. He doesn’t care about the political instability of Vulcan simply because he doesn’t find it as interesting as the Dalek spacecraft. He wants to use the Daleks as slaves, whether in the mines or as computer engineers. The way he speaks about the scientific breakthroughs he can make with the Dalek’s help shows that he is also keen for prestige in the scientific community, dreaming of a legacy like Einstein or Turing. Either way, he sees himself as holding power – in the literal sense, as he initially controls their flow of electricity – over the Daleks. When he finally sees the Dalek production line at the end of episode four, he understands that they are manipulating him. The Daleks, in allowing the power schemes of the other characters to come true, have taken his power away. Really, Lesterson is the first victim of the Daleks, even though he is one of the last in the story to die. He wants power over the Daleks, but by episode five, the Daleks have power over him. And this is what drives him mad. His last lines before he is exterminated is almost a mockery of the Dalek’s earlier facade of servitude, saying to them, in the Dalek’s own mechanical inflections, “I am your servant.” Lesterson admits that the Daleks have beaten him, but only while allowing The Doctor to destroy them once and for all.

Ah, yes, The Doctor. The most cartoonish of Troughton’s facial expressions on the telesnaps just accentuate what’s gone. But it’s his performance in this story that was the make-or-break moment for Doctor Who. The first ten minutes of Power of the Daleks is probably the most important ten minutes of the show’s history, because if viewers couldn’t maintain their faith in The Doctor, the show would never have lasted much longer. Ben and Polly’s reactions are perfect for an audience getting used to The Doctor’s first change of character. Polly is flabbergasted, but eventually accepts that this odd little man is The Doctor. But Ben is skeptical for the first episode or so, and The Doctor almost punishes Ben for his skepticism by playing mind games with him – speaking in the third person, rummaging through the chest as if it was someone else’s, making up gibberish about a butterfly breaking from its chrysalis, irritating the hell out of everyone with his recorder. Once The Doctor discovers the Daleks, however, he is (almost) all serious. The mind games continue, but instead of his companions, his targets are the colony government and scientists, trying to convince them to destroy the Daleks and discover their motivations for working with the metal creatures. Here was the seed of The Second Doctor’s particular brand of manipulation that we would later see in full force in Evil of the Daleks and Tomb of the Cybermen. He doesn’t only play the fool to put people off their guard about him, as in when he looks for microphones hidden in the fruit bowl in his quarters and tries to break the sonic lock on his jail cell with a dog whistle. But he also finds just the right words to get on the nerves of Bragen, Lesterson, Janley and others in just that way that they reveal their motivations to him. And when the Daleks finally strike against the colony, The Doctor rises to action, leading his friends back to Lesterson’s control room and overloading the Dalek’s power supply, blowing them all to pieces. Why does he take such extreme measures? Well, the Daleks are certainly extreme creatures, and as he put it, “I like to do things MY way!” This proved it once and for all. He’s still The Doctor, and you don’t want to mess with him.

Ben and Polly come off quite well, with very good dialogue trying to get their heads around The Doctor’s regeneration, and when they find themselves embroiled with the increasingly violent Vulcan politics. Ben’s scepticism is an excellent mirror image of Polly’s faith in the cosmic hobo. Polly has some excellent moments of righteous indignation at the unjust imprisonment of Quinn, and the rebels’ working with the Daleks when she is held prisoner in the factory ship. Ben gets a great showcase in episode four helping The Doctor infiltrate the rebel meeting and letting himself be captured so The Doctor can escape. But I think the best Doctor-companion moment comes at the very end, when Ben mentions that The Doctor’s warnings to the colonists about the Dalek threat were not really all that convincing. The Doctor only chuckles mischievously before they are on their way. 

Fanwanky canonicity follows!

No one on Vulcan knew what the Daleks were, so The Doctor knew from this that it was before the Daleks conquered Earth in the mid-22nd century. Perhaps during The Dalek Invasion of Earth, he had done some research and discovered when humanity’s first public contact with the Daleks was. And perhaps it was at this colony on Vulcan. The Doctor, having discovered previously that the Daleks all but wiped out the human colony on Vulcan before the main body of their invasion fleet moved on to Earth, knew that he had to let the massacre happen. It was an established part of history, so he couldn’t interfere. He knew he had to do his best to minimize the damage and destroy this particular Dalek force. But it’s likely that the Daleks from the factory ship would have alerted Skaro when they were reactivated, and the Dalek war fleet set course for Earth for the first time.

Getting back to the story, the Daleks themselves are excellent. They are terribly villainous and devious for the first five episodes, manipulating the humans around them into helping them re-establish their power supply before going on a suitably frightening massacre. The scene late in episode six surveying a city full of dead bodies is suitably chilling, I think moreso with just Anneke Wills’ spine-tingling description over the stark incidental music. The music is another praiseworthy part of Power of the Daleks. It’s spare as to be almost non-existent, and when it does appear, it consists of a low drumming punctuated by a stabbing, low-pitched electronic whistle. It’s gorgeously atmospheric for the scariest scenes in the story, excellent to punctuate the regulars creeping around the Dalek vessel.

Incidentally, the planet Vulcan seen here in Power of the Daleks pre-dates the UK premiere of Star Trek, featuring the planet and race of hardcore logicians, the Vulcan. Star Trek first appeared in Britain on 12 July 1969, according to imdb.com, and Power of the Daleks, featuring the human colony world Vulcan, debuted in Britain on 5 November 1966. This is an entirely nitpicking concern I have over the originality of the word ‘Vulcan’ in this story, which has been so overused thanks to Trek that it can never be mentioned in a new piece of literature for the rest of human history.

When I reviewed ‘Marco Polo’ I noted that some fans insist that the missing Doctor Who stories cannot be fairly judged on the strength of their soundtracks alone, since the visuals either add to or detract from the original story. This is a debatable point, but the fact remains that when I first heard ‘The Power of the Daleks’ when its soundtrack was released on audiocassette in 1993, it rapidly became one of my favourite Doctor Who stories of all time, and subsequent viewings of the Loose Cannon recon only strengthened my positive opinions of it.

The first notable aspect of ‘The Power of the Daleks’ is of course Patrick Troughton. The manner in which the lead actor was changed in Doctor Who is a work of minor genius in my opinion. It is not unheard of for major characters within series to be played by different actors when the original becomes unavailable; the death of Reginald Tate after The Quatermass Experiment resulted in John Robinson taking on the role for Quatermass II, and he was himself replaced by Andrй Morell (arguably the definitive Quatermass) for Quatermass and the Pit. All three actors however (and later Sir John Mills), were playing exactly the same role; with the transition from Hartnell to Troughton, Troughton is still playing the same character, but the characterisation is very different. By making the change part of the actual storyline, the production team allowed Troughton to literally make the role his own, rather than simply trying to recapture his predecessor’s performance. The new Doctor impresses immediately. The new Doctor is far more energetic than his previous incarnation, and immediately seems more erratic; as soon as he recovers from his transformation, he starts clowning around and generally teasing his companions, who are stunned by his change and (quite understandably) wonder if he is an imposter. Even when he is rooting through the trunk in his TARDIS and reminiscing about the items he finds within it, he refers to his former self in the third person purely for the benefit of Ben and Polly, with an innate mischievousness. Once on Vulcan, he is quick to embroil himself in events even before he knows of the presence of the Daleks (although there are hints that he deliberately steered the TARDIS to the colony precisely for that reason), leaping at the opportunity to impersonate the murdered Examiner and therefore set about finding out who the murderer is. His clowning continues, and it quickly becomes clear to the viewer that this new Doctor is going to be far more erratic and eccentric than his predecessor. Once he discovers the Daleks in the opened capsule however, his manner quickly changes; the scene at the end of episode one when he, Ben and Polly, find the dormant monsters shows Troughton’s Doctor in serious mood for the first time, and he conveys the Doctor’s fears with a superb sense of urgency. When Lesterson and the others find them in the laboratory, he alternates between gravely trying to insist on the Daleks’ destruction and switching back to his habitual air of guileless, almost idiotic, innocence when Ben is in danger of saying more than he wants him to about what the travellers witnessed in the Dalek vessel, and this really establishes the pattern for Troughton’s performance in the future. Most importantly, one of the Doctor’s crucial character traits is re-established; when Ben suggests that they leave Vulcan if the colonists don’t want to heed the Doctor’s warnings, he refuses, explaining that he knows the suffering that the Daleks cause and can’t simply leave the colonists to their fate. Finally, and very importantly to my mind, it is the Doctor alone who proves capable of ending the threat of the Daleks, overloading their power source and blowing them up right at the very end. The Doctor’s recorder, one of my least favourite musical instruments, is quite irritating, but them its clearly meant to be. 

Ben and Polly are excellent here as usual, and play a vital role in helping the viewers to adjust to the new Doctor. Polly is far quicker than Ben to trust the new Doctor, accepting that since they saw him change he must be the Doctor. Ben is far less willing to accept this given that the apparent stranger doesn’t even act like the old Doctor, and their debating over the evidence as they slowly come to trust the Doctor again provides the perfect opportunity for the Doctor to explain (rather obliquely) his transformation. This is testimony to David Whitaker’s skills as a script-writer, as is the fact that within two episodes any doubts the Doctor are dispelled, allowing the viewer to concentrate on the main focus of the plot. Ben’s shocked realization that the Dalek at the end of episode two recognizes his friend and that he must therefore be the Doctor is a powerful moment and one that finally resolves the issue. After the first two episodes, neither Ben nor Polly has much to do, as the new Doctor becomes the focus instead, with both Anneke Wills and Michael Craze taking it turns to sit an episode out, but even with their diminished roles they provide adequate support as usual. The relatively large guest cast is also uniformly excellent. Bragan is a suitably loathsome villain, especially when he orders the murder of his former allies in episode five. I never fail to take satisfaction in his refusal to heed the Doctor’s warnings about the Daleks, knowing that it is they that eventually cause his brief rule of the colony to come to an end. It is also fitting that betrayed ally Valmar, saving the life of Bragan’s nemesis Quinn, eventually dispatches him rather than him being exterminated by the Daleks. The slightly abrasive Quinn is a great character too, as is the cold and manipulative Janley and the pompous but ultimately well-meaning Hensell. But it is Robert James’ Lesterson who steals the best supporting character honours; his initial blind and childlike enthusiasm for the Daleks gradually gives way to uncertainty as they obsessively pursue their own power source, and he finally gives in to blind terror as he discovers the Dalek production line inside the capsule and realises that the Doctor was right all along. James’ conveys his character’s panic incredibly well, especially during the scene in the Governor’s office as he tries to convince Bragan of the danger. In the face of Bragan’s refusal to listen to him, helped by Janley’s lies as she tries to ensure the continued safety of her supposed allies, he gives in to complete abject fear and literally ends up gibbering, before he descends fully into insanity and is eventually mercilessly killed by the creatures he championed so passionately. One of Lesterson’s finest moments is when the Doctor reveals that the Daleks are not robots and adds that they can achieve anything given sufficient resources; Lesterson’s quietly horrified “w- what?” beautifully demonstrates the exact moment at which he realises what he’s done. 

Finally, there are the Daleks. ‘The Power of the Daleks’ is the first Dalek story written without Terry Nation and Whitaker handles them without peer. In ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’ they were effective because of the magnitude of the threat that the represented. Here, the stakes are much smaller; rather than an army of Daleks threatening the entire galaxy with a super weapon, here we have three Daleks threatening a single colony. And yet, they have never been this scary. It starts with the Doctor, Troughton excellently portraying controlled fear as he tells Ben that one Dalek could destroy the colony. We often saw the First Doctor’s suppressed hatred of his perennial enemies, but this is the first time the Doctor appears to exhibit trepidation in this way. Later, when he tells Lesterson that the Dalek will end the colony’s problems because it will end the colony, the threat is reinforced; the fact that the Doctor truly believes that a single Dalek poses such a threat is very powerful. But what really makes the Dalek seem more dangerous here than ever before is their guile and cunning. The cliffhanger to episode two as the Dalek relentless chants “I am your servant” over the Doctor’s appeals to Hensell is one of my favourite cliffhangers of the entire series. Later, the Daleks continue to consolidate their power by manipulating the colonists, Lesterson in particular, as the viewer is afforded a glimpse into their true natures; a Dalek automatically proclaims its superiority, only to catch itself just in time (“a Dalek is bet- is… not the same as a human being”), and on at least three occasions, their absolute loathing of the Doctor is made clear, particularly when one Dalek comes close to ruining its pretense of servitude to Bragan when he takes up the Doctor’s challenge and stops it from killing him. As the story progresses, we get to see just how much they are anticipating slaughtering the colonists, as they eagerly conspire together in the capsule and look forward to teaching the humans “the law of the Daleks”. The cliffhanger to episode four as Lesterson, and the viewers, first see the Dalek production line, is utterly chilling, the mechanical efficiency of the creatures contrasting horrible high-pitched screeching of the Dalek embryos being bred in their tanks. The Discontinuity Guide lists the Daleks’ endless repeating of “Daleks conquer and destroy” at the end of episode five as a dialogue disaster, but for me it serves as an illustration of why they are such effective monsters; unlike fellow part-machine monsters the Cybermen, the Daleks are not emotionless, they are utterly psychotic and motivated by hatred and xenophobia. They clearly enjoy massacring the colonists in episode six. So thoroughly monstrous are they in this story that their messy and explosive destruction at the climax is enormously satisfying and indeed a relief; the terminal power loss of ‘The Mutants’ would not have sufficed here; by the end of the story, after numerous shots of corpses littering the colony, they really needed to be defeated as utterly as possible. 

I really have no criticisms of ‘The Power of the Daleks’. Based on the recon and telesnaps, the production was impressive, with the mercury swamps and colony buildings looking highly effective (I particularly like the ornate bars of the prison cells that the Doctor and Quinn are imprisoned in). The sparse surviving footage reveals the obvious use of blow-up Dalek photographs, but that didn’t spoil my enjoyment of any of the previous Dalek stories and if ‘The Power of the Daleks’ was rediscovered tomorrow and released on video or DVD, I doubt it would bother me here either. Frankly, Troughton couldn’t have asked for a better debut story.

The first time I listened to “Galaxy 4” on CD (as all four episodes are missing from the BBC archives) I thought that it was one of the weakest stories of William Hartnell’s reign. The second time around I was slightly more impressed, largely because I’ve found that this dialogue-heavy serial is actually more suited to audio than many of the other ‘lost’ stories recently released by the BBC Radio Collection are. Nevertheless, I’m afraid to say that my thoughts on this serial are still far from positive.

William Emms’ story is heavily grounded in the old maxim “it’s what is inside that counts”, and whilst this may be a noble sentiment it is one that is all too often done-to-death in science fiction. The idea that the rather horrific Rills are a race of thinkers, learners and explorers whilst the more aesthetically pleasing Drahvins are an aggressive and warlike species is borne out well in the story, but with no telesnaps or photographs of the Rills the moral of the story falls a little flat – a tremendous shame as otherwise the story works so well in the audio medium. Obviously, this is no fault of the makers of “Galaxy 4” as they were not to know that the story would be junked, or even more surprisingly that forty years on somebody would be writing a review of it!

However, quite a substantial amount of footage from “Four Hundred Dawns” exists, including some shots of a ‘Chumbly.’ Their atrocious nickname (given to them by Vicki) is unfortunately fitting, as they are as feeble in appearance as they are in name. The Drahvins are probably the most interesting aspect of the serial; a race of militant females lead by the despicable Maaga. I’m not sure if Emms was deliberately trying to write a satire about Women’s Lib., but that’s how it comes across at times which is quite amusing considering Doctor Who’s sexist reputation in the sixties and early seventies! I also think this serial could be a possible contender for containing the most ever fluffs by the actors, and whilst that isn’t a damning indictment of “Galaxy 4” in itself, it serves as the proverbial icing on the cake. No, that’s a lie – the icing on the cake is the TARDIS flying past the planet Kembel whilst the Doctor and his companions cheesily say aloud “Oh, I wonder what’s happening on that planet…” dovetailing into their week off…

Whilst 'Robot' succeeded in establishing the new Doctor and the relationship between him and his companions, it is in many ways a hangover from the Pertwee era. Having established the new status quo, however it leads into 'The Ark in Space', arguably the first proper Tom Baker story and a shining example of the influence of Philip Hinchcliffe and Robert Holmes. 

From the start, 'The Ark in Space' has the feel of a new direction. After the cosy feel of much of the Pertwee era, this story is noticeably different in feel. Almost immediately, the story creates a feeling of claustrophobia, as the Doctor, Harry and Sarah find themselves trapped in a small room rapidly running out of oxygen, and the setting remains uncomfortable throughout. The fact that it is set entirely on a space station means that there is no easy way to escape the threat of the Wirrn (given the Doctor's steadfast refusal to abandon humanity in the TARDIS), and their increasing stranglehold on the Ark gives a constant feeling that the TARDIS crew and Vira's small group are running out of places to hide. The sublimely creepy incidental music enhances this effect, as do the magnificent sets, which are some of the series' best. The use of bright white sets gives the Ark a sterile look, which contrasts beautifully with the cold expanse of space visible through the windows in the corridors, creating a cold, stark feel, but the detail inherent in the designs also avoids making the sets look drab. 

The structure of 'The Ark in Space' adds to the story's success. Episode One features just the Doctor, Harry and Sarah, and unfolds relatively slowly. However, at no point does it feel padded, because almost everything advances the plot. The scene with the autoguard could initially seem like filler, until it later becomes clear that it was this that destroyed the Wirrn Queen. The Doctor and Harry's exploration of the silent Ark adds to the eeriness of the atmosphere and further contributes to the plot, as the Doctor deduces his location and the nature of the Ark. Aside from providing information for the audience, this also makes the Doctor look rather good. Once the humans on board the Ark start to wake up, events gather pace, and the story flies by as the threat of the Wirrn grows rapidly. Even the cliffhangers advance the plot, rather than simply being dramatic moments forced into the script to provide an exciting break every twenty-five minutes; Episode One concludes with the discovery of the Wirrn Queen, answering the question of what precisely entered the Ark; Episode Two culminates the revelation that Noah is transforming, further elucidating the nature of the threat; and Episode Three ends with Noah's final transformation into an adult Wirrn, showing us the final, most deadly stage of their development, shortly after the Doctor has grimly informed us that adult Wirrn will be a thousand times more dangerous than the larvae. Even Episode Four follows this pattern, dovetailing nicely into the start of 'The Sontaran Experiment', and contributing to a linked feel to the season that harkens back to the program's early days. 

With Sarah sidelined for much of Episode One and no other characters present until Episode Two, it falls to Tom Baker and Ian Marter to carry the episode, and they do so with panache. The rapport between them, established in 'Robot', continues apace, resulting in some great moments, as the Doctor explains the nature of the Ark to a sceptical Harry. This is perhaps more effective than it would have been with Sarah, given Sarah's experience of travel within the TARDIS. Despite being rather out of his depth however, Harry soon starts to acclimatize to being thousands of years into the future and continues to prove his usefulness, despite his bumbling reputation; he is able to apply long out-dated medical skills to help Vira revive her people, and helps Rogin tackle the Wirrn larvae in Episode Three. Even his desire to escape in the TARDIS when things begin to appear hopeless in Episode Four seems more honest and realistic than cowardly. Tom Baker continues to impress as the Doctor, and gets some brilliant lines of dialogue, especially in his scenes with Harry, which are all part of Episode One's success. I love the bit where Harry guesses that the Ark is some kind of survival measure and the Doctor tells him that he is improving. Harry's rather pleased look quickly gives way to ruefulness as the Doctor adds that it is entirely due to his influence, and that Harry mustn't take any credit. Aside from being amusing, it demonstrates Marter's comic timing. The Doctor gets many other great lines, such as "My doctorate is purely honorary and Harry's only qualified to work on sailors", and "An ordinary brain. But mine is exceptional!" Despite this humour however, the story is rife with suspense throughout and whilst he demonstrates a knack for wit, Baker also imbues his Doctor with other qualities. He's convincingly portentous when describing the threat posed by the Wirrn, and for all his eccentricity he quickly gains Vira's trust, simply by generating a general air of trustworthiness. 

Most interestingly of all in my opinion is the Doctor's motivation for getting involved, which is established by his famous speech about humanity's achievements in Episode One, and is summed up later by his line "It may be irrational of me, but human beings are quite my favourite species". 'The Ark in Space' is a story in which the Doctor and his companions have the option of fleeing in the TARDIS, but the Doctor refuses to do so because people need his help. This reflects his attitude back in 'The Tomb of the Cybermen' when he remained on Telos to help Parry's expedition members survive the results of their folly, despite his ability to leave whenever he wished, and it really sums up his character. Indeed, his commitment to helping humanity is such that he is prepared to sacrifice himself in Episode Four. Perhaps more interesting still, is the side he chooses; the Wirrn, the script informs us, have been gravely wronged by humanity in the past and are striving to survive. The Wirrn ultimately have as much right to survive as humanity, but the Doctor sides against them. This is probably largely due to his tendency to side with the underdog in any circumstances, given that the Wirrn are so dangerous, but the fact that he actually acknowledges favoritism towards humans is an intriguing insight into his character. This is doubly interesting because of Holmes' script, which initially shows us an almost fascist society of the future, where people are valued solely by their abilities (as suggested by Vira's casual questioning of Sarah's value). Prior to being infected by the Wirrn, Noah is callous and ruthless, prepared to destroy the Doctor and his friends rather than risk contamination of the gene pool. This raises all manner of implications about eugenics and elitism in the society preserved on board the Ark. Humanity's general state is further suggested by the attitudes of Libri, Lycett and Vira, all of whom are reluctant to take on responsibilities outside of their allotted roles. However, having established this rather pessimistic template of humanity's future, Holmes immediately sets out to thwart it; despite his ruthlessness, Noah ultimately saves the humans on board the Ark, as his underlying humanity allows him to lead the Wirrn into space, and to destruction. Rogin, in stark contrast to Lycett, is an instantly recognizable character type, emerging from cryogenic suspension cynical, sarcastic and resolutely individual. He's a marvellous character, played perfectly by Richardson Morgan, and represents humanity's finer aspects just as much as Noah's sacrifice. He too sacrifice's himself, saving both the Doctor and his people in the process. 

Whilst the Doctor and Harry carry Episode One, Sarah too gets some good moments during 'The Ark in Space', mainly in Episode Four, when she reminds the Doctor about the shuttlecraft and of course takes the cable through the ducting. Sladen's acting is as good as ever, and she conveys Sarah's increasing panic as she keeps getting stuck in the tunnels very well. The guest cast is also very good, with the unfortunate exception of Christopher Masters as the wooden Libri. Wendy Williams is very good as the cold, aloof Vira, who gradually become more human as she comes to trust the Doctor and struggles to save her people. Kenton Moore's tortured performance as Noah is crucial to the success of the story, as he struggles against the influence of the Wirrn in his mind. It is quite remarkable that in Episode Three he acts so well with a bubble plastic glove that the scene is genuinely disturbing. 

Finally of course, there are the Wirrn. In both forms they are startlingly effective; the larvae are obviously made of bubble plastic, but the story is so well directed that somehow they remain convincing. The actual Wirrn look pretty good, but the limitations of the costumes become obvious when they move; nevertheless, they still manage to look great. Although recognizably insects, they also look suitably alien. From a story point of view, they are an awesome menace, difficult to destroy, about to swarm on mass, and totally hostile. Even with Noah's influence, the Wirrn cannot be negotiated with; their existence is anathema to that of human kind. Their ability to absorb and assimilate humans is effective and disturbing, (Noah's "I am Dune" in Episode Two is surprisingly chilling), and they have an unstoppable, terrifying feel throughout. Even the Doctor is hard pressed to defeat them; at best he only reaches a kind of stalemate when he electrifies the cryogenic chamber, and ultimately it falls takes the last vestiges of Noah's humanity to destroy them from within.

In summary, 'The Ark in Space' is a triumph and superb start for the new producer.

“The Sensorites” is a story that in many ways encapsulates the show’s first season. Personally, I don’t find that it stands up as well today as some of the other early serials do, but there is still a lot to like about Peter R. Newman’s six-parter and, more to the point, it showcases many of the classic devices that made the series so successful. First off, the story has ambition. Verity Lambert and her production team weren’t afraid of landing the TARDIS on the deck of a 28th century spaceship no matter what constraints they had in terms of money or time. I mean just look at the Sensorites! They might not look much in the face of modern prosthetics and make-up techniques but for 1964, they are an absolutely phenomenal visual achievement - according to Russell T. Davies, their strange, uniform appearance inspired the Ood over forty years later!! They are also an interesting race in terms of their motives and their actions. The evil Sensorite who becomes the Second Elder is a wonderful Doctor Who baddie – he’s just so evil! It’s wonderful to see him interact with the ‘goodie’ Sensorites who are reasonable and want peace. It’s a wonderful Doctor Who device that would appear time and again in classic stories like “Doctor Who and the Silurians” but you saw it here first!

Moreover, “The Sensorites” isn’t chained to one location. We are taken from the spaceship to the Sense-Sphere, the Sensorites’ unique home, which breaks up the six episodes wonderfully. It’s a trick that later production teams would use on their six-parters – serials like “The Time Monster”, “The Seeds of Doom” and “The Invasion of Time” all have the four episode / two episode divide to help maintain the pace. Once again, it dates right back to here.

This story also sees William Hartnell at his absolute best in the role. He is confident, brilliant and forceful. Unusually, this serial also sees Hartnell have to do a bit more emotionally. “The Dalek Invasion of Earth” aside, the tension between Susan and the Doctor has never been higher than in this story. She’s growing up, and he doesn’t like it. There’s also a lovely symmetry in how the Doctor feels at the beginning of the story, and how he feels at it’s conclusion. In “Strangers In Space” he takes the time to comment on how all the crew have become good friends, and then by the end of “A Desperate Venture” he has decided to put Ian and Barbara off the ship! Fantastic!

In fairness, “The Sensorites” isn’t a particularly good story, nor is it one that stands up all that well under modern scrutiny. I like it because it sums up those early, pioneering Doctor Who serials so wonderfully; in those days they weren't scared of anything, they just did their best with a few quid, a cramped studio, some wonderful actors and a bucketful of imagination. As I’m writing this nearly forty years later they must have been doing something right.