Robert Holmes is probably my favourite Doctor Who writer. He was great at characterisation, usually devised excellent plots, and had an unprecedented grasp of what, in my opinion, makes great Doctor Who. The unfairly maligned ‘The Krotons’ showcased his burgeoning talents, but unfortunately his Doctor Who writing career took a mercifully brief nosedive with ‘The Space Pirates’; frankly, tedium is only one of its many flaws. 

The most obvious problem with ‘The Space Pirates’ is that it is dull. At six episodes, it is way too long, and although this is apparently intended to convey the vast distances involved in space travel, it makes for a horrendously padded story. The plot is simply, which is not in itself necessarily a problem, but when everything else is lacking, more complex storytelling would have been welcome. Basically, Cavan’s pirates blow up some beacons, Milo Clancey is chief suspect in the eyes of General Hermack of the Space Corps, Hermack spends most of the story chasing Clancey (and a false trail to Lobos), whilst Clancey teams up with the Doctor and his friends to track the pirates to Ta, where they are secretly being funded by Madeleine Issigri. The truth is revealed, Cavan gets blown up, and everyone goes home. There is not enough plot to justify four episodes, let alone six. Apologists for ‘The Space Pirates’ argue that it is impossible to fairly judge it since we are denied the excellent model work of the various space ships. This might be a valid point, but I remain unconvinced by it due the evidence of the surviving episode two. The model work in this episode is indeed very good for the era, but I don’t think it is so good that it alone could maintain my interest for the whole story. 

With the exception of Milo Clancey, who I’ll come to further below, most of the supporting characters, usually very well served by a Robert Holmes script, are rather forgettable. The Space Corps officers are especially dull, and suffer even more from woefully wooden acting and some dodgy accents. Hermack teeters on the edge of being portrayed as a complete moron; it is painfully obvious from the moment that he finds that Madeleine owns several Beta Darts that she is involved with the pirates, but he is seemingly blinded to this by the fact that she is a young woman. For the rest of the story, he blunders about in space chasing Clancey and Cavan, getting increasingly irritable and taking it out on the annoyingly cheerful Major Warne. At least he gets to give the order to blow Cavan up at the end. The villains of the piece, the eponymous space pirates, are equally forgettable. Dudley Foster tries hard as Cavan, who is scripted as a really nasty piece of work, but the character is so lacking in charisma that he is utterly forgettable. Unfortunately, whilst Cavan is portrayed as quietly psychotic, by the final episode the script calls for him to switch to full-blown megalomania, as he attempts to blow up his entire base (and ultimately, himself – “we’ll all die together!”), but it doesn’t ring true. Every time I watch/listen to the story, I can’t help thinking that it would be more in character for him to just bugger off to safety. The only other pirate of note is the weak-willed Dervish. He gets some potentially important characterisation, as we learn that he was blackmailed by Cavan into working for him and would really rather not be, but this embryonic subplot doesn’t go anywhere, since he’s so terrified that he simply won’t risk betraying Cavan. The trouble is, although one or two scenes demonstrate his fear of Cavan, there are also scenes in which Brian Peck seems to forget about his character’s motivation and talks to Cavan as though they are drinking buddies. 

Madeleine Issigri is passable, but I’m never entirely convinced by her motivation. Originally not realizing that Cavan, a wanted criminal and budding space pirate, might at some point kill people, she is revealed to have joined forces with him for profit. But she’s already rich and she’s made out to be basically soft and fluffy at heart, so this is rather unconvincing. If Cavan had been using her father as a hostage from the start, it might have worked better, but she doesn’t even know that he’s still alive until episode five. And there’s another thing; we’re told that Dom vanished ten years previously, and the implication is that Cavan has been keeping him locked in his study all that time. I don’t care how tough or resilient he was when he was locked up, but I don’t believe that anyone can endure ten years of solitary confinement in a small room without becoming extremely ill. Even if his sanity held out, he’d be lucky if he could walk when he got out, let alone hobble speedily along with Milo to get to the LIZ. 

The chief success of ‘The Space Pirates’ is Milo Clancey. Despite a suspicious accent, Gordon Gostelow runs with the role, making the most of Holmes’ script. Clancey is very entertaining, from his first appearance in episode two, when he has a rather amusing and disrespectful audience with General Hermack, right up until episode six, when he helps to save the day. Unfortunately, Holmes writes him so enthusiastically that he becomes a Mary Sue character; Milo gets more to do than anyone except the Doctor, who is just about on an equal footing with him. ‘The Space Pirates’ is the only Troughton story that I can think of in which the Doctor and his companions are not separated at all during the story. This reduces Jamie and Zoe to their most basic possible role, used purely so that the Doctor can explain things to them, and therefore the audience. Jamie suffers the most, because he’s essentially replaced by Milo. Even the Doctor doesn’t much to do. The TARDIS arrives quite late in episode one, the Doctor and his companions spend all of episode two trapped on the beacon segment, and after that they follow Milo’s lead to Ta where they get locked up twice, and run along corridors. The Doctor is responsible for diffusing the bombs at the end, but almost everything else in the story could have been achieved without him being there. Yes, he opens the cell door, sets up an electrical booby trap and comes up with the plan to escape from Dom’s study, but it all feels like window dressing. Despite this, all three regular actors do what they can with the script, and to the story’s credit, the plight of the TARDIS crew in episode two is genuinely nightmarish and claustrophobic, as they slowly run out of air, which is convincingly acted. 

In short, Patrick Troughton’s penultimate Doctor Who story is a huge disappointment. The best thing that I can say about ‘The Space Pirates’ is that it heralds the end of missing episodes, as from here on in everything survives in the archives.

Based on memories of it, I was expecting to write a scathing critique of ‘The Dominators’, but to my surprise, I actually found quite a lot to like about it. It is by no means a classic, and it is possible that part of my newfound enjoyment of it stems form watching the series in order, since this is the first complete surviving story since ‘The Tomb of Cybermen’; nevertheless it isn’t as bad as its reputation suggests.

First of all, I’ll address the considerable shortcomings of ‘The Dominators’. The main message of the story seems to be that it is often necessary to fight for what one believes in and indeed to survive in the face of enemy aggression; thus, we are presented with a race utterly opposed to aggression of all kinds, who suddenly find themselves under threat from a utterly implacable enemy that is determined to destroy them and their only hope of survival is to alter their pacifist stance and fight. To anyone who has seen ‘The Mutants’, this might sound familiar, but there are essential differences; the Thals were sufficiently well characterised that it was possible to care about their fate, and they were eventually persuaded of the need to fight back against the Daleks by Ian. The Dulcians on the other hand are the single most tedious alien race yet seen in Doctor Who, even taking into account the Xerons. With the exception of Cully, who I’ll come back to, they are atrociously characterised and indeed acted, especially Kando and Teel. Balan’s apparent refusal to accept that the Dominators won’t just go away and leave them alone makes him seem, frankly, feeble-minded and at best stupid. The council are even worse, the absolute low point being Tensa’s pompous insistence that Rago, an obviously threatening psychopath equipped with a bizarre looking but extremely dangerous robot, addresses Senex in a respectful manner; frankly, I welcomed his death with a kind of twisted glee, hoping that it would incite the Dulcians to action, despite having seen ‘The Dominators’ before and knowing that, in fact, they just end up concluding that they’ll have to let the Dominators blow up their planet. The Thals’ initial stoic refusal to fight in the face of over-whelming common sense seemed somehow noble thanks to decent scripting, but the Dulcians just seen dimwitted. Part of the problem is the way that the council members are betrayed as pompous windbags, continuously bickering amongst themselves with a kind of relaxed smugness, which gives the probably unintentional message to the viewer that pacifism leads to bureaucracy; this is possibly true, but it hardly seems to be the point. The one exception to the Dulcian rule is Cully, who is well acted and well scripted, except for the fact that Haisman and Lincoln muddy the waters by also seemingly trying to crowbar in a half-arsed message about crying wolf. Which in the long run is pointless, since when the council is convinced that he is telling the truth, they still don’t do anything about it anyway.

Production wise, the Dulcians continue to suffer. The Island of Death is clearly meant to look like a quarry, so I can forgive it, but the council chamber set is almost terminally uninteresting, which is appropriate but only adds to the overall tedium. The costumes worn by the Dulcians need to be seen to be believed and don’t help matters; they look utterly absurd and not in an interesting Thal trousers sort of way, but in a quick-sewing-job-with-some-spare-curtains kind of way. Poor Wendy Padbury ends up looking like an overgrown schoolgirl whose mother couldn’t afford a uniform for her and had to make one for her herself, whilst struggling with arthritis and poor vision. The model work is also crap, most notably the B-movie style travel capsules, Cully’s beehive-shaped hovercraft, and the Dominators’ spaceship. Consequently, much of ‘The Dominators’ is dull to look at, and this coupled with the fact that any scene featuring just Dulcians (Cully aside) feels padded regardless of its length, does not make a recipe for success. 

In spite of all this monotony however, there is much to enjoy in ‘The Dominators’. Some of the design work is quite good; the hexagonal block design of the weapons museum is rather effective, and the survey unit model also works well. The interior of the Dominators’ ship is suitably futuristic, and there are some very impressive explosions throughout. Cast wise, the regulars really shine here, showcasing the new TARDIS crew very well. Troughton was reputedly bored with the recurring base-under-siege plot prevalent in Season Five, and seems to relish the opportunity to do something different here. The highlight is episode two, when he pretends to be an idiot so that the Dominators underestimate him; uniquely, the villains here never actually realize who their principle enemy is, blaming the attacks on the Quarks on the Dulcians and of course Jamie. Troughton looks like he is enjoying himself throughout the story, and puts in one of his most frantic and enthusiastic performances to date. He also conveys well the fact that the Doctor is forced to think on his feet from the moment he meets the Dominators, since he dare not admit that he has been feigning stupidity; his claim that the “clever ones” built the laser gun seems very desperate, but pays off to the Doctor’s obvious relief. He is also frantic with nervousness in the final episode, as the Dulcians and Zoe try to bore a tunnel from the atomic shelter to the Dominator’s central bore to intercept the explosive device and thus save Dulkis. His cheerful and carefree dismantling of the capsule’s controls whilst in mid-flight is another highlight, as is the final scene, when he wears a satisfied smile on his face as the Dominator spaceship blows up, only to be brought up short as he realises that he is in the path of a lava flow. 

Jamie gets plenty to do here, thanks largely to the apathy of most of the Dulcians, and his grim satisfaction as he and Cully systematically hunt Quarks in episode five is superbly conveyed. He also provides the perfect contrast to the Dulcians, since he is a born fighter. Zoe too fares well here, living up to the promise she showed in her flawed debut story. Unlike Victoria, she is not easily intimidated, and never seems cowed by Toba’s bullying; she also gamely joins Cully in inciting rebellion and generally seems to be enjoying herself despite the dangers. In short, because of the vast failings of the Dulcian characters, the TARDIS crew as a whole is more crucial to the resolution of the plot than in many stories in Doctor Who up until this point. 

The Quarks are probably a bone of contention, since I get the impression that fans either love them or hate them. I think they’re great, their bizarre and diminutive appearance and weird, childlike voices contrasting with their actually quite impressive destructive capabilities in the story to make them a much more novel and impressive threat than, say, the War Machines. I like the details of their design, for example their weird spiky heads and the fact that their arms fold neatly away. In this regard, they actually look like they have been designed with practicality in mind rather than to frighten children in the audience, and their size helps to avoid making them looking like men in funny costumes. The effects used to show the deaths of their victims also help to add to their menace, both the elaborate “burning” effect in episode one, and the smoking corpse effect used later. However, the real saving grace of ‘The Dominators’ is, for me, the eponymous aliens themselves.

Rago and Toba have been criticized by some fans for being nothing more than argumentative bullies, about whom we learn next to nothing, and this is in fact true. But they are so well acted, and so well scripted, that this doesn’t matter because they actually feel really dangerous. They are both psychotic, both giving the impression that they are about to erupt and kill someone nearby, which is in fact the case on several occasions. Toba, excellently acted by Kenneth Ives, is extremely sadistic, and is scary because he’ll kill for fun; he’s also in a sense stupid, since he endangers their mission by wasting the Quarks’ dwindling energy supplies by destroying things simply because he can, which makes him the focus of his superior’s rage on several occasions. The acting is the icing on the cake; every time anyone shows signs of rebellion, or attacks a Quark, his initial outrage gives way to an expression of murderous glee, as it gives him an excuse to kill somebody. When he supervises the clearance of the central drilling site to test the slaves to exhaustion, he explains what they must do with relish. In short, Ives’ performance drips with cruelty. Ronald Allen however, is even better as Rago. Rago is truly scary, whether he has an air of calm, detached ruthlessness, or suppressed fury as he deals with Toba’s wasteful need to fulfill his baser desires. Whilst he frequently orders Toba not to kill the TARDIS crew or the Dulcians, there is never any doubt that he is doing so out of compassion; he is focused entirely on achieving his mission and will not risk wasting energy on unnecessary slaughter. Allen’s facial acting is astounding, his eyes twitching manically, and an occasional cruel half-smile breaking his otherwise cold granite expression. Whilst he is less overtly sadistic than Toba, his dispassionate callousness has a clinical horror all its own, most effectively when he is examining Jamie like a sample on a microscope in episode two. His quiet, clipped tones, only rising to a shout in his final scene as he sees the seed device on board the spaceship and bellows “obey!” at Toba are equally menacing; there is no gloating when he kills Tensa; only a matter of fact certainty that he will kill other council members if he feels that is necessary. The louder Toba, less in control of his emotions, is never as intimidating as Rago; it seems initially that he might rebel and take over from his superior, but when he tries, it is quickly made clear who the more dangerous of the two is and he is rapidly cowed and humiliated. Oh, and their simply costumes are effective too. It is true that we learn little about the Dominators, but the fact that remains that whenever they are on screen, I at least do not find the story dull.

In short then, ‘The Dominators’ is a weak season opener, but not as bad as some fans would have you believe.

At this point in Doctor Who’s history, ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’ is the longest story to date, and ‘The War Games’ almost rivals it at only two episodes shorter. ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’ is in my opinion a true classic and maintains interest throughout its considerable length by switching locations and bringing in new characters throughout. ‘The War Games’ on the other hand limits itself to (for the first nine episodes) a single planet, albeit featuring different time zones and locations, and a relatively consistent cast. I would not describe ‘The War Games’ as a classic and it certainly isn’t the same league as ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’, but it nevertheless manages to maintain an interesting narrative as it builds slowly towards an unforgettable climax. 

The basic premise of ‘The War Games’ is slightly strange, but essentially it works; the Aliens (who are never referred to as anything else) bring large numbers of humans from out of Earth’s history and by a process of survival of the fittest, attempt to whittle them down to an elite fighting force, with which they intend to conquer the galaxy. It’s not entirely plausible, and I can’t help wondering why, if so many of the humans are so disposable anyway, they don’t just brainwash the lot and send them into battle, but it makes for a surprisingly engaging story. The various wartime eras are quite well presented, with generally good sets and costumes, something the BBC has a reputation for. The large cast is generally good, with one or two exceptions that I’ll come to shortly, and despite the length of the story it manages to avoid feeling padded, with the possible exception of the Private Moore scenes, which is a very trivial criticism. This is in spite of the large number of escapes and recaptures throughout, as the Doctor and his friends variously get captured by Smythe’s men, escape, get recaptured, escape again with Carstairs and Lady Jennifer, get split up, arrive at the Aliens’ base, get captured, escape again, meet up with Jamie again, get captured again, etc etc etc. Because each escape and capture results in a progression of the plot, this never actually seems repetitive; for example their initial capture and subsequent court-martial arose the Doctor’s suspicions that all is not what it seems, and his subsequent escape into an entirely different war obviously serves to confirm this. 

Once the truth of the situation begins to emerge, the pace quickens even more, as the action shifts to the Alien base and also the resistance forces enter the fray. It is here that my first major criticism of the story arises. In the 1917 zone, when Lieutenant Lucke sees a demonstration of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver, he is very quick to accept that the Doctor has been telling the truth. Now I realize that the irony of my argument is that the Doctor is telling the truth, I just think that Lucke accepts it too easily; after all, in his position, I would assume that the Doctor is an amateur magician before I’d believe that he is an alien. And this is my problem; many of the human characters seem to accept what is really going on very easily. I can just about convince myself that this is because the processing is flawed and that they are already subconsciously realize that something is wrong, but it still never quite seems convincing. Fortunately, after the first four episodes, this distracting trivial issue becomes irrelevant. Once events move to the Aliens’ base, two things of significance happen; firstly, we start to get satisfying answers to the mounting questions, coupled with the political wrangling between the War Chief and the Security Chief; this not only advances the plot, but also adds new intrigue, as it becomes clear that all is not well amongst the ranks of the villains. Secondly, and most importantly, we get that almost shocking moment when the Doctor’s and the war Chief’s eyes meet, and a clear flash of recognition passes between them. This signposts the start of the increasing tension evident in the Doctor as he starts to realize that he is facing a problem that he cannot solve alone, and that his only recourse will be to ask his own people for help. 

This unfolding and massively important subplot is partially dependent for its success on Edward Brayshaw’s excellent portrayal of the War Chief. We have seen the Doctor face a renegade member of his own race before, in ‘The Time Meddler’ and ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’, but there the emphasis was more on humour. Here, the full significance of what this can mean for the Doctor comes to light; he is clearly terrified when he sees the War Chief, presumably suspecting that, since the Aliens’ SIDRATs are based on TARDIS technology, his own people are rather involved. He visibly calms down in later episodes as he realises that the War Chief is a lone renegade helping the War Lord’s people, but this relief is short-lived once he finally accepts that he needs help to get everybody home. The Doctor’s conversations with the War Chief are fascinating; they clearly know each other, and both discuss their decisions to leave their own world. For the first time in the series entire history we start to learn about the Doctor’s past, and I’ve never found it so captivating as I have whilst watching the series in order. The revelation that the Doctor stole his TARDIS is surprising enough in itself, but this is as nothing compared to the sheer terror that he and the War Chief exhibit as the need to summon the Time Lords becomes clear. Time Lords. It’s so easy to take for granted now that the Doctor is a Time Lord, but hearing the War Chief use the phrase for the first time also has enormous impact; for the first time, we learn what the Doctor really is, and it sounds impressive, mysterious, and foreboding. It is to the Doctor’s credit that in spite of his obvious fear (he is even prepared to let Villar shoot him rather than staying to wait for his own people), he summons help for the sake of the humans present. In contrast, the War Chief is just terrified and bolts as soon as the Doctor assembles his communication cube. Brayshaw imbues his performance with tremendous charisma and energy, and his own barely controlled panic is almost as impressive as the Doctor’s far more openly fraught anxiety.

The War Chief is a great villain. He looks and sounds impressive (yes, even with those sideburns) and is a commanding figure. During the middle of the story, his rivalry with the Security Chief makes him seem like a man in control, easily manipulating a petty and rather stupid subordinate. This is doubly fortunate, given that James Bree provides one of the most diabolically bad performances of any actor in Doctor Who up until, this point. The Security Chief seems to be heavily inspired by Gestapo officers, but just seems constipated for the most part. Nevertheless, Brayshaw’s commanding performance counter-balances this acting atrocity, much to the overall benefit of the story. What is more interesting however, is how the War Chief behaves once the War Lord arrives. Suddenly, he is not as in control as he would like people around to believe, he is just another subordinate and one perhaps out of his death. The War Lord’s withering scorn shows no favouritism for either War Chief or Security Chief, belittling both as and when necessary. From the moment that the War Chief explains his intention to take complete control to the Doctor, there is a sudden feeling that he is woefully out of his depth, and his death at the ends of the War Lord’s guards has a certain inevitability. Philip Madok’s second performance of the season is even better than his first; the ruthless, sneering War Lord is so distinct from the oleaginous Eelek in ‘The Krotons’ that it is easy to forget that they are played by the same actor. If the War Chief is a commanding villain, the War Lord makes him look like a sniveling worm, so utterly cold and compassionless is he. His beaming smile, as he listens to the Doctor’s transparent flattery, is terrifying. 

There is almost the effect of a “food chain” in ‘The War Games’, with a “bigger fish” always around the corner. The Security Chief is a nasty little man, but is outranked by the far more impressive War Chief. He in turn seems far less impressive next to the War Lord. And at the top of the chain are the Time Lords. Knowing in retrospect how the Time Lords change throughout the series, it is interesting to see how they are handled here. The Doctor talks of their great power, and they are portrayed as powerful and mysterious, easily sending the captured humans home and dealing with the War Lord, despite his ill-fated escape attempt. Despite their aloofness however, they also seem compassionate; they talk of not wanting to inflict pain, of not wanting innocents to be hurt, and the Time Lord who collects Jamie and Zoe seems genuinely touched by their attachment to the Doctor. On the other hand, they are also willing to mete out justice as they see fit; they not only dematerialize the War Lord, they also effectively kill off one of the Doctor’s lives. Perhaps the best comparison is that of strict parents; the Doctor, cowed and guilty looking, seems almost like a naughty schoolboy in episode ten, next to the Time Lords who place him on trial; they grow patiently listen to his defense and indeed seem to accept it, but they refuse to indulge him when he takes time to choose a new appearance, quickly deciding to choose one for him. And then there is what they do to Jamie and Zoe. 

My major criticism of ‘The War Games’ is the fate of the Doctor’s companions. From a story point of view, I can appreciate it, but as a viewer I feel cheated. In ‘The Wheel in Space’, Zoe was precocious and irritating, but during her travels with the Doctor her character developed dramatically and she became a likeable companion, clearly enjoying her travels. Suddenly, at the end of ‘The War Games’, all of that is effectively undone, as she is returned to her own time and her memory of her travels with the Doctor erased. With Jamie it is even more painful, since he’s been with the Doctor for even longer and has undergone even greater development, becoming one of the Doctor’s most enduring companions. It is almost painful to see all of that taken away, and whilst I realize that this is the point, it is still all too infuriating. At least both Wendy Padbury and Frazer Hines get plenty to do in their final story, after being wasted in ‘The Space Pirates’; both Zoe and Jamie play important roles in defeating the Aliens, and at least they get a truly touching final scene with the Doctor as they say goodbye.

Troughton’s final performance is better than ever. He gets some great comic moments early on, especially when he bluffs his way into the military prison in search of Jamie, and later gets to display an even greater range, as he angrily confronts the War Chief over his role in the war games, and becomes increasingly nervous and afraid as he realizes what must be done. He is quite superb in the last two episodes, seeming almost on the verge of tears as he sends the box to the Time Lords and frantically makes his escape. His explanation of his past in episode ten is probably my favourite moment from the entire story, as he explains that the wanted to explore time and space and so fled his own planet. It is an unforgettable moment in the series’ history. It is also quite shocking to see the Doctor resigned to his fate in episode ten, as he finally convinces Jamie and Zoe that there is no escape. He becomes his old self again in the trial room as sentence is passed, but of course, for the last time…

Production wise, ‘The War Games’ is generally very good. The minimalist sets of the Alien base work surprisingly well, as do the gimp costumes worn by the guards. The strange cardboard spectacles however, look utterly ridiculous. My other big criticism of ‘The War Games’ is the incidental score, which is pompous and overblown. This is appropriate in episode ten, but for the rest of the story is monumentally irritating, especially the annoying “sinister” theme that kicks in intrusively whenever an Alien dons a pair of special glasses. I’m quite capable of realizing that something strange is going on, without unsubtle musical cues hammering the point home every single time. 

There are other things about ‘The War Games’ that annoy me too; there are, inevitably, some very stereotypical characters on display, most notably Arturo Villar. I also never cease to find it unintentionally hilarious when von Weich first appears, complete with bald head, monocle, and dueling scar. Possibly the aliens have been watching Blackadder Goes Forth… Overall, there are too many shortcomings of ‘The War Games’ to allow it be considered a classic in my eyes, but there aren’t enough for it be considered a turkey either. Considering its length, and the unforgettable final episode, I think it achieves its aims very well. 

Overall, Season Six is not up to the quality of Season Five, but is generally strong and in some respects shows Troughton at his best. The ending of ‘The War Games’ heralds massive change. I noted when I reviewed ‘The Tenth Planet’ that whilst watching the series in order for the first time I felt a real emotional impact when Hartnell left. Having got just as used to Troughton, I felt the same effect, but the change is even more pronounced. Not only is this goodbye to Patrick Troughton, but also it’s goodbye to the black and white era, and signifies an enormous change in the style of the show. Doctor Who would never be the same again…

I absolutely love ‘The Krotons’, but I’m not one hundred percent certain as to why. The design and production are mediocre at best; the Krotons themselves look great from the waist up, but when the camera moves back too far their silly rubber skirts are all too visible. The interior of the Dynatrope is rubbish, although the hexagonal doors in and out both look quite good, as do the sets of the Gonds’ buildings. The model work is dire; the Gonds’ village looks atrocious, and the Dynatrope model is passable but, as The Television Companion points out, the perspective shown of it in no way matches the sets and is impossible to see from where the characters who point at it in episode four are standing. Notoriously, the first shot is of a hatch refusing to open properly. 

In spite of all these shortcomings, ‘The Krotons’ is hugely entertaining. The crystalline Krotons, with their Brummie accents, make for novel monsters, and seem rather alien in comparison with some of the series’ more humanoid monsters. This is not just because of their appearance, but also because their alien nature is emphasized by the by script; for example, they talk of exhausting rather than dying. These little details add up to an intriguing whole. In addition, they have a major weakness, exploited by the Doctor, in their dependence on their nutrient tank. They are also blind. Most Doctor Who monsters have an exploitable weakness, most notably the Cybermen and the Ice Warriors, but very rarely are they approached in such a matter-of-fact way, with the monsters in questions visibly compensating for them. 

The Gonds are potentially as dull as the Dulcians and seem to consist entirely of one small village, raising the question of how sparsely populated the planet as a whole is. Nevertheless, they work far better than the Dulcians, thanks to Robert Holmes’ trademark gift for characterisation. Vana and the slightly wooden Selris both serve their purpose well enough, but stealing the show are Beta, Eelek, and Thara. As Thara, Gilbert Wynne manages to portray an angry young man whilst still managing to make the character likeable, in large part because he talks a great deal of sense and is quite right to be suspicious of the fate of the companions of the Krotons from the beginning. James Cairncross, in his second Doctor Who role (his first was in ‘The Reign of Terror’) is highly entertaining as the obstreperous scientist Beta who relishes the chance to play with acids (incidentally, having received a sulphuric acid burn myself in the past, I would strongly advise against sticking a finger into it to see if it is ready!). Most memorably, Phillip Madok in his first role in the series plays the odious Eelek to perfection, presenting a truly loathsome character. 

The regulars do just as well out of the script. The ever-resourceful Jamie fends for himself against the Krotons whilst in the Dynatrope, and proves once again that whilst uneducated, he is not stupid, as he works out how to use the Doctor’s piece of mica to escape. For a change, Zoe gets to team up with the Doctor more than Jamie, resulting in some sparkling dialogue during the scenes with the learning machines. Troughton’s clowning here is, as usual, delightful and the entire scene is a hidden gem in the story. Even the TARDIS gets to show off a new trick, as the HADS make its sole appearance in the series. 

In short, ‘The Krotons’ is just plain good fun. At a mere four episodes, it is also makes for a refreshing change amongst the longer stories surrounding it. Frankly, it simply manages to be more than the sum of its parts.

It is ironic that one of the few Patrick Troughton stories to exist in its entirety, The War Games, could actually do with being trimmed down an episode or two. An excellent story but, alas, a tad long with many gratuitous scenes that could be cut. As long as all the scenes with the chillingly malicious General Smythe, the dry Von Weich, pompous Security Chief, charismatic War Chief and, most of all, the sneering, soft-spoken War Lord, could all be retained. Cut out some of the escape/getting recaptured scenes perhaps?

This story has always had a fascination for me. I was actually born on the year it came out (1968) so the first I knew of it was when the target book by Malcolm Hulke came out in...oh dear. 1981? Normally I had no interest in Dr Who books other than the ones being televised at that time, but what I knew about this story had an increasing fascination for me. It wasn't a typical DW story by any means, something apparently was to happen to the second Doctor by the end of the book to make him regenerate, the time lords were to be involved for the first time ever...my curiosity so got the better of me that I bought the novel and was thoroughly captivated. Malcolm Hulke's dialogue was as sharp as ever, yet there is absolutely no description at all of the War Lord. He just appears two thirds into the book. My young mind pictured him as a tall, dramatic figure in long, flowing robes! Imagine then some months later in a DW magazine there is a photo of the character...I was flabbergasted! This short, dapper figure with the beard, thick glasses and high forehead: this was the War Lord? And yet this character who seldom spoke above a murmur even when threatening someone with death is easily the most evil 'human' villain in DW's history.

Which point brings me to the video, seen years later. These aliens with their war games are evil and without compassion, excellent baddies, but to look at they are middle aged, balding, short, bespectacled...utterly unremarkable, but this is all the more chilling. Evil is not just looking like an Ice Warrior, a Cyberman or even a Dominator...the alien race in the War Games have the evil in their souls.

The plot was easy for my young mind to grasp also, being fairly simplistic in concept unlike, say, Logopolis which at the time I confess to being baffled about plotwise until the book came out several years later. The War Games is highly dramatic, not least of all for the shock ending. The little Doctor and his companions for once do not win through at the end, and its all the more shocking because right till the end one is rooting for them, thinking they might make it. And as for Jamie and Zoe...was there ever a more poignant scene than the one at the end when they are forced to depart due to the time lords' intervention?

On a lighter note, fans of Blackadder Goes Forth will see very definite similarities between that and episodes 1-3 of the War Games.....the chвteau, the trenches, the captain, the general, the adjutant with his form obsession....I guess Ben Elton was a DW fan as a child.

Absolutely brilliant. 10 out of 10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!