Along with Remembrance Of The Daleks, this is a story I find inexplicably popular among die-hard fans of the series. It is admittedly nice to see the origins of the Daleks, and it is a story which lingers on in the memory, but so many of the elements fall flat that I can’t help but feel that it could have been done so much better.

I have to admit, I’m not a Terry Nation fan, and nowhere more clearly are his limitations demonstrated as in Genesis. His dialogue is functional and characterisation for the most part non-existent. There were genuine opportunities for warmth and camaraderie – Sarah and her fellow rocket escapees, for example – but were wasted by characters saying what had to be said and nothing more. In short, Genesis Of The Daleks is six episodes of relentless exposition. So many of the characters are stony-faced militarists that there is little for most of the actors to do other than state things, making it a rather shouty episode.

And that all makes it rather hard to care about any of it. Neither side in the war shows much in the way of humanity; even obligatory girl-solider Bettan could have been anyone, and the poor actress doesn’t get much to do with the lines she’s given. The fey Star Trek blondies of the original Dalek story have gone to be replaced by just more bog-standard soldiers. The Kaleds dress up like Nazis and talk in a clipped way, but don’t particularly distinguish themselves other than that.

There’s too much padding – the rocket climb is one of the most pointless subplots in the history of Doctor Who. Everyone is far too gullible in episodes five and six. The Nazi symbolism is way too obvious… it would be far more effective in my opinion to have allowed the apparent ‘evil’ of the Kaleds to speak for itself rather than rely on lazy shorthand, particularly Himmler-a-like Nyder.

That said, Davros is a good new character and the leads are as marvelous as ever – particularly Tom Baker, who has to inject Doctoriness into the flattest and most functional of Terry Nation’s dialogue.

A couple more points: from reading reviews of the story on this and other sites, it seems there are a couple of commonly-held fallacies floating about. Firstly that the Doctor chickens out of destroying the embryonic Daleks himself and leaves the wires on the floor for the Daleks to trigger the explosion. From watching it again, it’s pretty clear that the Doctor just get spooked by the Daleks and drops the wires (silly boy). Secondly, it’s often pointed out that a thousand years is rather a long time to dig out a blocked tunnel. Actually, the Doctor is referring to the evolution of the Daleks in the destroyed incubators. In the event, he’s proven wrong anyway as Davros isn’t quite as exterminated as we are led to believe…

As usual, the reviews I read in here really surprise me sometimes. After having heard so much fan-bashing of this particular yarn, I'm amazed so many of you actually stood up for it here. 

I try to be of two legitimate minds regarding Silver Nemesis. I try to see the flaws so many critics have pointed out regarding this story and, at the same time, see all the fun and enjoyment there is out of just sitting back and enjoying the adventure. I fail miserably at the "seeing the flaws" aspect of the equation and just enjoy this story for what it is. An action tale that actually plays out pretty good. 

Yes, the weather is inaccurate for November. Yes, the humour is a bit hackneyed in places. Yes, it tries too hard to just play up being a "25th anniversary tale" (the whole "25th anniversary schtick" never sat well with me - I really preferred it when the show just celebrates the decades and that's it). I can see all that. I can even see the Cyberman not being able to hit the side of a barn in that one scene where Ace runs off. 

But still, overall, I really think this is a pretty good story. A bit weak by the standards of most the McCoy stories, but still pretty damned good overall. 

Obviously, the action sequences are some of the best parts. With the "Mexican stand-off" with Ace and the three Cybermen at the end being truly magnificent stuff that really re-inforces Ace as one of the great sci-fi heroines of the ages. In the old, sexist world of Who, this would have been either the Doctor or a male companion handling this. So great that it's a teenaged girl instead! 

The "deeper mysteries" that the story dwells upon are another excellent strongpoint to this story. The hints made about the Doctor's origins in "Remembrance" are so bloody subtle that you really almost don't catch them. It was nice for the mystery of the Doctor to get played up as much as it does in this story. Although I just stated a paragraph or two back that I wasn't a big fan of the whole "25th anniversary motif" that they were going for in this season, I do like that part of this plan was to re-invent the Doctor's past again and change him back into a bit of an enigma. And the emphasis on this in Nemisis is strong. It is still a bit of a crying shame that the "Cartmel Masterplan" could not be completed onscreen. "Lungbarrow" was an okay read but I would have liked to have seen at as a T.V. episode.

Next, we have the "players in the game" for the Silver Nemesis. The Nazis are a tad wooden (but then, Nazis would be, wouldn't they?) but I really enjoyed Peinforte and even the extremely gold-vulnerable Cybermen. The way the Doctor plays them off each other and manipulates them to his ultimate goals (he knew that Peinforte absorbing herself into the Nemesis would get the Validium to destroy the fleet even though the Cybermen cancelled his orders - did you catch that?) shows off, again, just how truly deadly he is as the "cosmic chess player". And shows it off in a different way than he did in Remembrance. By the way, in my book, there are enough differences in these two tales to say they're not entirely the same even though some of you love to harp on this idea. To me, the reason why there are so many similiarities between the two is because the Doctor wanted to set some things up that would "take a good chunk" out of his two worst enemies. And he knew that to entice them with some highly powerful Gallifreyan artefacts would be the best way to do it. And I can't believe how many of you love to bitch about these two stories resembling each other. Re-watch Season eight and see how each story is just the Master tampering with something he can't truly control, almost getting destroyed by it at the end and the Doctor steps in and saves the day on the spin of a coin! This was five stories in a row, more or less, plotted exactly the same. Why do I never hearing bitching about this?! 

Anyway, I digress. There are many truly wonderful moments in this story where I find myself in "geek paradise". The Cybermen hearing jazz on the transmitter, Ace and the Doctor stopping to enjoy the jazz themselves', the glorious moment where the Doctor "plays chess" with the Cybermen and activates Nemisis with the bow and then charges off. Those are just to name a few. But, what stops this story from being a true classic like Remembrance is that it also "clangs" quite badly in places too. The Nazis not bothering to see if the bow is still in the box being one of the worst ones. A bit reminiscent of Guy Crawford and the eyepatch in "Android Invasion"! 

Overall, I consider this a story with some very "classic moments" in it that don't quite come together properly enough to give it the rank of a "classic story". But, by no means do I consider it "shite" like some of the others on this page have!

Our knowledge of the Aztecs dates from CortezпїЅs landing, and so in choosing to set his story before then John Lucarotti sails into murky waters. The Aztecs brushes the surface of the period, name checking all the famous bits you learned about at school (human sacrifice, lack of the wheel, cocoa), pairing off each member of the regular cast with one well-known facet of Aztec society. Lucarotti is a writer of such awesome talent though that he takes these broad sweeps and turns them into much more, and the result is that the viewer becomes totally immersed in the period.

The opening scene bears all the hallmarks of the early William Hartnell episodes, with a leisurely exploration of the new location and a lecture from the science / history teacher (delete as applicable). ItпїЅs likeable, as scenes featuring Jacqueline Hill invariably are, but the obvious pattern that it follows in the context of the era as a whole makes it slightly hard to get into; thereпїЅs a definite feeling that Lucarotti is more comfortable with the freewheeling quasi-Elizabethan dialogue he gives to the Aztecs (for some reason) than with the mundane, everyday speech of the regulars. All this matters little as soon as the Doctor and Ian emerge from the TARDIS, the mighty Williams Hartnell and Russell forming пїЅ along with Hill пїЅ possibly the best ever Doctor / Companion grouping.

Initially the hidden doorway points to a swashbuckling serial of high adventure, and AutlocпїЅs arrival makes for a pleasing contrast to expectations as Keith Pyott gently underplays his poetic lines. This is in stark contrast to John RinghamпїЅs manic, almost cartoon-like portrayal of Tlotoxl, which works because for all its energy it never descends into a send-up. Ringham has stated in interviews that his performance owes a heavy debt to Richard III, as if we needed that pointed out, and on the whole The Aztecs smacks of a proto-Post-modern version of Shakespeare throughout. ThereпїЅs also some incidental amusement to be had in seeing the rest of the cast doing verbal backflips in their tortuous attempts at pronouncing the characterпїЅs name. ThereпїЅs a great moment of direction when heпїЅs first introduced, as the camera sweeps sideways following the regulars, only to reverse direction and bring him suddenly and shockingly into view; I single that out as for the most part John CrockettпїЅs direction is fairly leaden and it feels very much like he comes from a theatrical background, as characters tend to face the camera rather than each other as they speak.

ItпїЅs strange that Autloc suggests that the human sacrifices should end long before Barbara shows any influence on him; in a way it negates his character as it means that the development thatпїЅs written for him doesnпїЅt actually exist. Yet in some ways it expresses the brilliance of the story in that something so simple at its heart becomes, over the course of the four episodes, something so magnificently rich all the same.

If thereпїЅs criticism of The Aztecs, very often it takes the form of пїЅpeople only like it because Marco Polo and The Massacre are missing.пїЅ I consider the suggestion that somehow thereпїЅs a block on judging this story by its own standards rather absurd, and for the record I saw this long before I had any knowledge of LucarottiпїЅs other work пїЅ I loved it then, and I love it now. But I will acknowledge that Marco Polo is the superior story, and I can only wish that Waris Hussein had helmed this instead of John Crockett since the studio-recorded fight scenes are laughable; the lack of editing facilities mean that thereпїЅs no attempt at hiding the fact that the actors are desperately trying not to break their balsa wood clubs.

Margot van der Burgh is charming as Cameca and her scenes with Hartnell are a joy, all taking place in Barry NewberyпїЅs excellent garden set. ThereпїЅs been criticism here too of the Doctor getting too involved himself while warning Barbara not to, but thatпїЅs a key part of the first seasonпїЅs character arc: the Doctor blunders in and causes trouble because he doesnпїЅt apply the rules to himself. This is the episode where he gets the shock to his system that snaps him out of it: both in hurting Cameca, and in seeing BarbaraпїЅs failure. That the regulars actually get involved is one of the storyпїЅs great features, as many other historicals (particularly the otherwise-excellent The Crusade) are slightly let down by the way the regulars become little more than audience members who have wandered in front of the cameras. In The Aztecs, part of the subtlety and richness that we see comes from Lucarotti using the necessarily limited portrayal of the period to show us the regulars as much as the Aztecs themselves. From BarbaraпїЅs point of view the idea of changing history isnпїЅt important; in this story itпїЅs the desire to change it that matters, and I think that makes it all the more interesting. It certainly leads to the extraordinary confrontation between the Doctor and Barbara, possibly one of the best scenes ever. The DoctorпїЅs assertion of пїЅbelieve me, I knowпїЅ is an early hint at the darkness of his past.

ThereпїЅs a real sense of culture shock in this story, which really tries to deal with the reality of how someone would react if they were transported back four hundred years. Barbara reacts to it reasonably well in the end and has a good moment answering TlotoxlпїЅs questions, and пїЅwhat if thieves walk among the Gods?пїЅ is a great line.

HereпїЅs where the episodeпїЅs credibility takes a massive blow though, as it turns out all of a sudden that mild-mannered science teacher Ian happens to be a martial arts expert. This is one of the hugest contrivances of all time, and while the fact that itпїЅs only ever mentioned in this episode means that it doesnпїЅt come across as quite so huge it does make it even less plausible. Thanks to William Russell itпїЅs still oddly likeable, but IanпїЅs line of пїЅI wonпїЅt kill you this timeпїЅ пїЅ to the Aztec warrior chief, no less пїЅ is funny for all the wrong reasons and docks this episode, in isolation, several points. However, it does herald the beginning of a more focussed plot as Tlotoxl and Ixta begin to scheme together.

Frequently in this story conversations are overheard, characters go off with each other for clandestine asides, and overly-convenient family connections emerge (Ixta being the temple-builderпїЅs son) that really highlight the episodeпїЅs Shakespearian roots. Broadcasting its influences so blatantly gives The Aztecs more of a sense of fun than other episodes, and the nightmare that faces Barbara seems all the more disturbing as a consequence. The two disparate elements of pastiche and serious drama hang together though, largely because of the reverence with which itпїЅs all treated. The exception is CamecaпїЅs ridiculous line of пїЅin bliss is quenched my thirsty heartпїЅ, which takes the episode temporarily far beyond the realms of parody.

Episode twoпїЅs battle between Ian and Ixta has a certain climatic feel to it, and episode three has a very пїЅsecond halfпїЅ feel with new elements added to the plot, such as the impending eclipse and SusanпїЅs arranged marriage to the Perfect Victim. Equally the characters gain some new material, as Ian explains to Barbara that sheпїЅs seeing Tlotoxl as the unusual one when really he isnпїЅt. ItпїЅs followed by another fantastically enjoyable scene as Tlotoxl and Tonila try to make Barbara drink poisoned wine. The third episode nicely combines all the different elements of the story: the tunnel into the temple gives us the high adventure the beginning suggested, while the DoctorпїЅs accidental engagement to Cameca lightens the tone; meanwhile, AutlocпїЅs shocked question to Barbara that пїЅyou would sacrifice us to save your handmaiden pain?пїЅ never lets us forget the awful situation she has made for herself. This episode also gives us the first real cliffhanger, as the others seem more like story breaks with something dramatic added on as an afterthought to make up the requirements.

Episode four (or should that be Act IV?) shows just how useless the regularsпїЅ well-intentioned plans are as they are forced to simply abandon their mistakes rather than to try to make amends for them and risk further damage, and AutlocпїЅs line of пїЅwe are a doomed peopleпїЅ really shows the implications of non-interference. The plot to frame Ian for the attack on Autloc shows up TlotoxlпїЅs human motivations as well as his religious ones, which dampen his character slightly as they make him an ordinary villain, rather than someone who just happens to be convinced that their beliefs are true. However, he does have one more fantastic speech, talking about how he wants to seal пїЅthe false YetaxaпїЅ in a room without doors.

I gather the final battle (helped by being film-recorded) is supposed to be climax, but for me the more significant scene is the utterly sublime coda between the Doctor and Barbara. I can only imagine with horror how this scene would be played these days, with the two of them crying in each othersпїЅ arms while Murray Gold drenches the scene in stringsпїЅhere we have a quiet, understated exchange: пїЅWe failed, didnпїЅt we?пїЅ пїЅYes we did. We had to.пїЅ And not forgetting the final message, пїЅyou failed to save a civilisation, but at least you helped one man.пїЅ And as if that wasnпїЅt enough, look at the DoctorпїЅs final moments: he sadly leaves behind his memento of Cameca, and then at the last minute changes his mind and goes back for it. IпїЅm normally a cynical old duffer about this sort of thing, but something about how understated it is makes me all warm inside.

ItпїЅs a shame that The Aztecs has developed a reputation as being a poor manпїЅs Marco Polo, and I feel that if LucarottiпїЅs other episodes were found it might become more popular as people would stop these incessant and spurious comparisons. As it is, taken on its own terms, The Aztecs is utterly gorgeous and IпїЅm eternally glad that it survives.

IпїЅve liked this story since I first saw it. I like the premise, with Barbara attempting to change history and failing. I like the unusual choice of setting (for Doctor Who) of Mexico at the time of the Aztecs. The characters are strong, and generally well acted, though Ixta seems not so good. All in all, this story is a compelling dramatic examination of one womanпїЅs attempt to influence a culture, which if you strip away the time travel elements, would work equally as well in other genres. 

This story is an excellent character vehicle for Barbara and possibly her best story, though she has a fair showing in пїЅThe CrusadeпїЅ as well. As a history teacher, sheпїЅs in her element here. SheпїЅs living the history she enjoys, and more to the point, has been put in a position of power and influence, which presents her with an opportunity. Much like Rose in пїЅFatherпїЅs DayпїЅ, itпїЅs an opportunity she canпїЅt resist taking advantage of, despite the consequences.

Barbara is shown to be rather broad-minded here. While she recognizes the practice of human sacrifice for the evil that it is, she also sees the good cultural aspects of the Aztecs, and her desire to save them from themselves is rather noble, if quixotic. As in the real world that sort of action can only be taken so far, as people will act on what they believe, and beliefs are a difficult thing to change sometimes, particularly societal beliefs. Barbara focuses in on Tlotoxl as the aberration, thinking that the majority of the Aztec people will come over to her way of thinking, when in reality, as Ian points out to her, Autloc is the exception to the rule and Tlotoxl represents the mindset of the majority. Barbara is struggling against a culture as well as the weight of history, and her failure is inevitable. She is permitted by the writer to come out of the situation with a small victory, that of changing the thinking of Autloc. Apart from that, all her actions really accomplish is to put the four TARDIS crew members in grave danger from which they struggle to escape.

The attempt to survive in Aztec society forces some hard choices on the Doctor, Ian and Susan, even before Tlotoxl turns on Barbara. Ian recognizes the mindset of the priests early on, and overrides the DoctorпїЅs objections when Tlotoxl suggests that Ian train to command the armies. To be accepted by the Aztecs and to remain relatively safe, he must act as they would expect him to act, which includes escorting the human sacrifice victim to the altar. The Doctor catches on to this need to conform as well, but Susan cannot bring herself to keep her mouth shut and play for time. Barbara of course attempts to use her position as a god to change the Aztec way of life, but when she does not behave as Tlotoxl expects an Aztec god to behave, he does not change, but instead loses faith in her. There is a running tension throughout the story as Barbara, Ian and the Doctor try to outmaneuver Tlotoxl and get back to the TARDIS before he can break the peopleпїЅs faith in Barbara and have them killed.

There are four main Aztec characters that we get to know, discounting Tonilla who is pretty much a toady. There are the two priests, Tlotoxl and Autloc, who are of course a study in contrasts. When presented with new ideas, Autloc bends and Tlotoxl does not. One of my favorite lines is AutlocпїЅs pragmatic reasoning about BarbaraпїЅs attempt to stop the sacrifice, which runs contrary to his beliefs. пїЅWe send messengers to the gods. Why should they not send one to us?пїЅ Autloc is a thoughtful and sympathetic character. Tlotoxl is a man who believes strongly in his religion, who also has a love of power judging by some of his conversations with Tonilla. Barbara is a threat to his way of life and his beliefs, and must be destroyed. While somewhat understandable, Tlotoxl forfeits any sympathy by being not only пїЅthe local butcherпїЅ, but also a liar and a cruel man, as demonstrated several times, the most notable being his arranged attack on Autloc in an attempt to frame Ian.

The other two Aztec characters apart from the priests are Ixta and Cameca. Ixta is essentially a big dumb bullying fighter. He tries to be a times both friendly or cunning, but it never comes across as genuine. He takes pride in having survived all challengers to lead the Aztec armies. And while Tlotoxl is motivated by his religious beliefs, Ixta never seems particularly devout. Indeed, he boasts that he will be known as the warrior who killed пїЅthe chosen servant of YetaxaпїЅ, not even allowing the gods to stop his ascension to command. Pride is in many ways Ixtas downfall, and itпїЅs perhaps fitting that Ian is forced to kill him in self-defense, after Ixta boasted that he would kill Ian.

Cameca is a wholly sympathetic and likeable character, and notable for her accidental engagement to the Doctor, which just cracks me up every time I watch this story. HartnellпїЅs expression in that scene is priceless. While the Doctor certainly treats Cameca with respect and a certain degree of familiarity, and seems quite genuinely to enjoy her company, I never get the impression that sheпїЅs a love interest for him. The reverse is certainly true, and Cameca seems taken with the Doctor, but itпїЅs not a case of the Doctor looking for romance. SheпїЅs simply a kindred spirit in many ways, and their scenes together are enjoyable to watch. The Doctor so rarely makes friends where he travels as relationships of that sort are normally left to the companions, but weпїЅre in the early days of Doctor Who here before such conventions became established.

The production values are varied. The painted backdrops are obviously that, but they work well enough to allow for suspension of disbelief. The Aztec weapons seem very light when being wielded in battle. And certain fight scenes arenпїЅt staged very well, particularly Ixta versus the Aztec soldier (who never gets any face time oddly!) when Ian first enters the barracks. But the interior and garden sets look solid enough, as does the temple on top of the pyramid. Like so many early Doctor Whos, the whole thing has a theater feel to it, and works on that level. 

All in all, this is a successful story that derives its drama quite naturally by placing our main characters in a culture with values that clash horribly with our own, and each of them try to adapt or confront those values in their own way. This story wouldnпїЅt have worked earlier in the series run, but by placing it at a time when the relationships between the TARDIS crew have matured a bit, we get to see them play off each other and work together. Combine good storylines for the regulars with a strong moral dilemma and some well-acted and well-motivated Aztec characters, and you end up with a superb story. I have a hard time giving perfect marks, but apart from some stagy fights and production issues, I can find little fault with the Aztecs. 9.5 out of 10.

“The War Games” is one of those stories that will always be talked about. A ten-part epic that draws to a close not only Patrick Troughton’s reign as the Doctor but the whole monochrome era of the programme, this amazing story is also famous for being the one that finally reveals just where the mysterious Doctor came from…

“Time travellers. I wonder…”

Whilst it’s universally acknowledged amongst fans that “The War Games” is far too long and padded to the hilt, it’s also thought of by most fans as an absolute classic and I would agree wholeheartedly. My initial encounter with Pat Troughton’s swansong was via Malcolm Hulke’s novelisation of the story which I enjoyed immensely, but left me curious as to just how this plot (the novelisation was about 150 pages, if I recall correctly) had stretched across ten twenty-five minute episodes. Years later, I finally got to watch all ten episodes and my question was answered – repetition. Escape, recapture, escape, recapture, escape… The multi-layered plot is peeled away very slowly, one layer at a time. A viewer could be forgiven for thinking that Major Smythe is the villain of the piece from watching the first few episodes, as the War Lord himself doesn’t show up until half way through, and even his introduction is pre-empted by that of the War Chief. Much of the plot (all the ‘resistance’ stuff, for example) could have easily been cut-down to make this story a pacey five or six-parter, but there was a ten episode gap in the schedule and so ten episodes were produced! Even so, “The War Games” remains to this day one of my favourite Doctor Who stories, books and audios included. In one way, the story’s length works to its advantage as it completely sucks the viewer into the story and the characters, in a sense making it more like a novel than a TV show. Ironically, the experience of watching this serial is more like reading a novel than reading the novelisation of it is! I certainly wouldn’t recommend to anyone sitting themselves down and watching all four hours of “The War Games,” but viewing it in either in two-halves (as I tend to watch the story) or even episodically is something every Doctor Who fan should do.

The War Lord’s plan is fantastic material for a great Doctor Who story - take an alien planet, split it into different war zones, gather soldiers from different parts of Earth’s history, brainwash them and then let them kill each other until all you have left is an invincible army of hardened veterans that you can conquer the Galaxy with! It also allows for a wonderful opening to the story – what could be better than the TARDIS materialising in the middle of no-man’s-land on a Great War battlefront in France? It provides so many wonderful opportunities for storytelling (and believe me, in ten episodes Dicks and Hulke exploit them all), and due its predominantly ‘historic’ setting the production value also seems higher than that of contemporary stories. The sets of the trenches and the chateau are beautifully created; were it not for them being shot in black and white there would be nothing to distinguish them from programmes like Blackadder Goes Forth, made almost twenty years later! However, the superb design of “The War Games” isn’t limited to the various historical time zones. Never before have I seen a set that cries out “1960’s” as much as the War Lord’s domain does. Psychedelic doesn’t even begin to describe it… if you’ve ever seen any of the Austin Powers movies, you can imagine the setting. It makes a fantastic change from the grey corridors and flashing lights that Doctor Who so often used to depict ‘futuristic’ settings, though I’m not sure about the weird glasses…

One of the major driving forces behind making “The War Games” so compelling is the brilliance of its characters. Carstairs (David Savile) and Lady Jennifer (Jane Sherwin) are likeable enough to have become successful companions were the circumstances different, and the more nefarious characters like the intimidating General Smythe and the deplorable Security Chief are both interesting enough to have supported their own (shorter!) serials. The War Lord himself is wonderfully brought to life by Philip Madoc. His calm performance imbues the character with a real sense of power – he doesn’t need to throw his weight around too much, he is already as feared and respected as he possibly could be. The War Chief, however, is the most interesting character by far. Episode eight sees the series’ first mention of the Time Lords as, like the Doctor, the War Chief is revealed to be a renegade Time Lord on the run from his people. He wants the Doctor to help him overthrow the War Lord so that they can rule the galaxy together. I found myself quite amused by the War Chief’s dialogue when he speaks to the Doctor; it is uncannily similar to Darth Vader’s in The Empire Strikes Back, a film which was still over a decade away when “The War Games” was written! Like all good villains, the War Chief completely believes his hair-brain scheme for galactic domination is right and just. The Doctor, however, is far from convinced and for the first time since leaving his homeworld, he finds himself in a situation that he cannot resolve… without help. 

Enter the Time Lords.

“You have returned to us, Doctor. Your travels are over.”

Episode nine of “The War Games” ended with the ultimate deus ex machina; answering the Doctor’s telepathic message in a box, the Time Lords’ wave their magic wand and the soldiers are all returned to their customary time and place, the War Lord is in their custody and the War Chief is dead (or is he…?), killed by his former associates. Episode ten is very nearly a different story all together, and arguably contains the biggest reveal in the history of the entire TV series - certainly the biggest reveal overall until Marc Platt’s controversial 1997 novel “Lungbarrow.” The Doctor’s people are introduced to us as a nearly omnipotent race who have not merely gained mastery over time and space but also appear to have god-like powers (which one of them uses to physically punish the War Lord when he refuses to testify in his trial.) Although they have a policy of strict non-intervention, the Doctor’s summons forces them to try the War Lord for his crimes and eventually sentence him to temporal dissolution – he’s not just executed, he’s wiped from history! However, their strict policy of non-intervention is one that the Doctor has constantly flouted, not to mention his ‘borrowing’ of a TARDIS. Like the War Lord before him, the Doctor is tried for his crimes and found guilty, however the Time Lords take into account his good intentions and his role in the battle against evil and therefore decide to punish him by exiling him to 20th century Earth and forcing him to regenerate.

The Doctor’s goodbye to Jamie and Zoe is a real choker, and the blow is made even crueller by the Time Lords’ erasing their memories of their travels with the Doctor. The Troughton Era ends (at least on TV) with the Doctor’ face contorting as he disappears into the ether…

Of course, the novels speculate that “The War Games” wasn’t the end for the loveable second Doctor - Gallifrey’s C.I.A. intercept him en route to Earth and give him limited freedom in exchange for him doing certain missions for them. This is the older second Doctor that we see in “The Five Doctors” and “The Two Doctors” - he even gets Jamie back, memory restored!

In short, “The War Games” is an epic masterpiece. The bulk of the story is hugely entertaining and the introduction of the Time Lords and the Doctor’s (as yet unnamed) homeworld is purely the icing on the cake. It is packed with fantastic cliff-hangers (the Doctor up against a firing squad, for example), superb characters, and some wonderfully memorable scenes like the escaped Doctor strutting into a military prison, shouting his mouth off in outrage about how the person in charge there isn’t giving him enough respect and thus being accepted by him as an authority figure whilst having absolutely no credentials! It is a must-see story, and I’d also strongly recommended its sequel – the New Adventure “Timewyrm: Exodus” by Terrance Dicks, one of the best Doctor Who novels I’ve ever read.

The Pirate Planet gets on my tits. It has a Douglas Adams script that's playing with huge SF ideas and including deliberately crap stuff for ironic effect, which would have worked a lot better had the production team had a clue. Take the Pirate Captain, for instance. In the script, he appears to be another stupid shouty Doctor Who villain until we discover that's just a front and that underneath the bluster he's brilliant. That's a clever idea. It's certainly far too subtle for Bruce Purchase, who latches on to the shouting and never gives us a performance that could even be called one-dimensional. I didn't believe a word of it. That's not a genius. It's not even a Pirate Captain. What assaulted my eyes and ears was blatantly nothing more an annoying so-called actor who's putting nothing into his lines but his lungs. Admittedly the script gives him an awful lot of ranting, but even that sometimes has a kind of poetry. "Why am I encumbered with incompetents?" should have been a lovely line, but on the screen it's nothing.

Admittedly it's nice that he's having fun. I'm pleased for him. I can't even put all the blame on Bruce Purchase, since there's barely a tolerable performance throughout the entire show apart from the regulars. Tom Baker and Mary Tamm got a head start by playing pre-established characters who'd furthermore just been working with fantastic guest stars in The Ribos Operation, but even Mary Tamm isn't completely immune to the general incompetence. (I believe the technical term is "Pennant Roberts", but I'll leave him aside for the moment. He deserves a paragraph of his own, if not an essay.) But that acting... Nobody has a clue. Ouch ouch ouch. It's just embarrassing. It makes the likes of Tegan, Adric and Nyssa look like Lawrence Olivier, by virtue of being capable of actual line delivery. Mr Fibuli gave me cancer of the retina. There's a crowd scene with a "hooray" so lame that you practically need to invent a fan theory to justify it. I didn't mind the cameo guy in part one who gets given jelly babies, but I had some trouble typing that sentence because of a horrid scraping sound on the bottom of my barrel.

Have I bashed the acting enough? Not at all, I've barely started, but it's time to focus on the real villain: Pennant Roberts. The directorial incompetence on display here is breathtaking. That he ever worked again in any capacity beggars the imagination, let alone helmed six Doctor Whos (including both stories to boast Douglas Adams's name as scriptwriter). The Face of Evil, The Sun Makers, The Pirate Planet, Shada, Warriors of the Deep and Timelash. There's a litany of horror if ever I saw one. Admittedly his two JNT stories hardly had the world's best scripts, but Pennant Roberts certainly didn't redeem them... and bad acting is at the rotten heart of everything he's done. I've been bashing Tom Baker's performance in The Face of Evil (not to mention the Tesh) for years without realising that Pennant was the director, while in Warriors of the Deep and Timelash it's as if no one's even trying. I'm having trouble believing that Pennant even cared.

Despite everything he's done, I think The Pirate Planet was Pennant Roberts's nadir. He was working with sow's ears from the start in the 1980s, but here he's butchering a Douglas Adams script. Even before I took the trouble to look up the director's name, I'd described this story in my notes as "Timelash but wittier". The Pirate Planet has better regulars and some nice location filming, but everything else is on a par. Both stories feature lacklustre rebels, laughably lame guards and a vicious but stupid dictator with multiple layers of hidden identity. Both are set on blandly unconvincing alien planets with the same camp aesthetic and the same level of cliche, except that Timelash lacks Douglas Adams's playfulness. Both even have space-time connections with Earth and age their villains to death. In fairness both also have some genuinely clever ideas and time-related SF concepts, although not enough to salvage the overall train wreck.

However despite all that, I'm about to put the case for incompetence. In a story that's deliberately playing with crap Doctor Who cliches, it adds an extra dimension for the production to be as bad as anything we've ever seen. I can't pretend that this justifies it, but it does at least add a little interest. I'm not being entirely frivolous either. Douglas Adams makes so many comments on Doctor Who and its conventions as to make it practically an unbroadcast Hitch-Hikers instalment. Look at the Doctor sympathising with guards: "Must be very wearing on the nerves." Or perhaps his question to the Captain: "What do you want? You don't want to take over the universe, do you? No, you wouldn't know what to do with it. Beyond shout at it."

It goes further than that, though. Like Gareth Roberts at times, Douglas Adams is being deliberately crap... but with irony. That's the difference. If you didn't know that the writer was also in on the joke, this would be unwatchable. The Captain for instance is an assortment of pirate cliches transferred with painstaking literalism, e.g. a hook, an eye patch, a robot parrot etc. Unfortunately this combination of deliberate cliche and an unsympathetic director produces a planet that feels as if it's been cut-and-pasted from BBC stock rather than being a world that exists in its own right. It's bland. I couldn't believe in it. For example it has guards who exist only as parodies of other stories' guards... the whole world only works as a knowing parody of SF rather than an original creation.

"This is a forbidden object."

"That is a forbidden question."

"Strangers are forbidden."

Yes, okay, we get the point. It's a witty scene, but it's not even trying to be believable. However I don't blame Douglas Adams, since I'm sure he understood as well as anyone that this kind of joke works so much better with an edge of reality. The guards are funny, but they'd have been so much funnier if the Doctor's comments had been true, i.e. directed at them and their lives instead of at the general concept of "guards in Doctor Who stories".

The script has good stuff beyond its irony, though. I liked the sinister undertones. Underneath the comedy, there's the question of what's happening to planets? Where's Callufrax? Where's Bandraginus V? I like the unfolding of the SF secrets, with all the scary hints and references. These are huge ideas. Part two's revelations alone would be enough for any other story's climax. There's also the mental wrench of seeing silly people doing horrific things. Earth is nearly destroyed! It's extremely clever, although one problem is that the only way to defeat amazing technobabble is with even more amazing technobabble. Admittedly if you're concentrating then it all makes sense, being better than Timelash's "I'll explain later", but it's still a mish-mash of macrovectoid particle analysers and omni-modular thermocrons.

Interestingly Tom for once definitely lies about the TARDIS's capabilities. He tells the Pirate Captain that its lock requires two people. After all my hypotheses about the TARDIS's unnecessary and possibly spurious abilities in other Tom Baker stories, I was amused to see a concrete example of Tom telling porkies to gain advantage over a foe.

There are things I like about the production. I like the location filming. Power station, mines, caves... it looks great. It's so big! There's a real sense of scale, with a planet that for once feels bigger than a broom closet. I liked the pretty girl, even if she can't act. I also liked the Doctor and Romana, whose relationship has warmed since in The Ribos Operation but is still a rich source of comedy. Tom Baker in particular single-handedly redeems the production, with occasional flashes of seriousness of which we needed more from the other actors.

Overall, this story is the last thing you'd expect: bland. Even as it stands there's plenty of interest, but the incompetence of its production is a greater crime than Warriors of the Deep and Timelash. It's painfully unconvincing. Tom Baker and Douglas Adams are always worth watching, but the Pirate Captain in particular is utter bollocks. In fairness I enjoyed watching it. It's witty, subtle and full of ideas. I wouldn't dream of arguing with anyone who said it was their favourite story. However it also drives me crazy.