The Doctor meets an old friend, defeats a cold hearted psychopath and acquires a new assistant in a solid if unspectacular space adventure romp. ‘Dragonfire’ is most notable for two reasons. Firstly, for being the story in which the Doctor says goodbye (and good riddance?) to Mel, and secondly for introducing his new assistant, the ‘street-wise’ Ace.

The adventure begins when the TARDIS lands on Iceworld, an ‘intergalactic trading post’ from which the Doctor has been receiving a signal. Once there he meets up with Sabelom Glitz and a young waitress originally from twentieth-century earth called Ace. Glitz, having recently sold his entire crew to cover a gambling debt, has in his possession a map which he says will lead to treasure, and so he and the Doctor set off to uncover the mysteries of Iceworld. Unbeknownst to them they are being tracked by Kane, ruler of Iceworld, through a device hidden in the map. What starts out as a promising quest style adventure is spoilt somewhat by poor production design and sloppy plotting. 

And poor production design is where we shall begin. The most obvious thing one can say about this serial is how cheap the sets look. Indeed, the various locations around Iceworld in which the main characters travel through are pathetic, a garish example of bad production design. This, coupled with a very poorly realised dragon creature, looking rather too cuddly and never anything but a person in a big monster suit, almost completely ruin what could have been an enjoyable Doctor Who story. Now, some may argue that if you watch Doctor Who and consider yourself a fan, then you shouldn’t be bothered by the production design of a famously low-budget sci-fi show. I would argue that there are many examples of good production design running through the series history, ‘Ghostlight’, for example, looked a million dollars. 

Also going against this story is a plot which at times doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. For example, we are told that Kane has been imprisoned on Iceworld for three thousand years, and yet when it actually comes to the business of escaping it all seems rather easy. I should also point out at this juncture that ‘Dragonfire’ is full of padding, with lots of things happening that are more or less inconsequential to the plot. These include Glitz trotting off to recapture the Nosferatu and the failed assassination attempt on Kane by Kracauer and Belazs, and don’t get me started on the pointless sequences with the little girl and her teddy. The majority of Doctor Who stories are filled out with scenes that really shouldn’t be there, but when the main plot needs more explanation, these little diversions become ever more annoying. 

Whilst I’m dealing with the weaker aspects of the story, what the hell was that cliff hanger to episode one all about? Not only does it make NO SENSE WHATSOEVER, it is also slightly depressing in that it gives the impression the production team of the time were not too fussed about the show. It’s like they looked at the script and said, ‘OK chaps, this makes no sense, but let’s carry on regardless and make ourselves look like complete arses.’ At the end of episode one there was in fact a perfect place for a cliff hanger, when the dragon confronts Ace and Mel. The whole thing smacks of sloppiness. 

‘Dragonfire’ is saved by a wonderfully over the top performance from Edward Peel as Kane and solid performances from the rest of the cast. Peel delivers his lines really believing in what his character is saying, which is unusual in this era of the shows history when a lot of the supporting actors seemed to be playing it for laughs (Briers and Dodd, I’m looking at you). In fact, all of the main cast give good performances (Langford excluded), with McCoy beginning to get to grips with the role of the Doctor, playing it much straighter than before. TV newcomer Sophie Aldred, who plays Ace, begins her Doctor Who career in a less than convincing manner, although she would improve immeasurably through the next two seasons. I don’t think her early poor showing is entirely her own fault, as her dialogue is awkward and clunky. Streetwise teenagers at the time never said ‘Wicked’ or ‘Brill’. She is at least an improvement over Langford, who here demonstrates why fans hate her so much. Glitz, who returns after previously featuring during the Colin Baker era, is well portrayed by Tony Selby as a Del-Trotter style wheeler-dealer and small time crook. Although entertaining, it’s difficult to see what he actually contributes to the story. It would appear that he was included as a mechanism for Mel to leave the company of the Doctor and the series and for that, he will forever have my thanks. 

Performances apart, ‘Dragonfire’ also manages to clamber up the rungs of respectability with a classic Doctor Who moment when the Doctor, attempting to distract a guard with philosophical babblings, discovers that not all nameless henchmen are dumb heavies. Also worthy of mention is the excellent special effect at the end of episode three when Kane, exposed to sunlight, melts in an extremely effective and surprisingly horrific manner. I must also mention the incidental music, which is atmospheric without being too intrusive, and nowhere near as bad as what we got for the majority of the McCoy era. 

One of the big problems in reviewing ‘Dragonfire’ is that season twenty-four in general marked a different approach to making eighties Doctor Who. For the first time in a long while the show appeared to be aiming for the kids TV audience. Now, the rights and wrongs of this approach have been debated many times before and there is little new to say on this issue, but it does mean that season-twenty four stories have to be viewed in the context of what the show was trying to do at the time. Yes, it is gaudy, childish and at times very silly, but it is also a lot of fun. Compared with classic stories of earlier eras ‘Dragonfire’ will always come off worse, but then the two are incomparable to any real extent because season twenty-four was so different to everything that had gone before. 

In closing, view ‘Dragonfire’ as an entertaining and at times silly piece of entertainment and you’d be hard pressed not to enjoy yourself. Yes, it’s flawed, but is not as bad as some would have you believe.

Before I begin this review proper I’ll first point out that what I’m reviewing here is the 1993 video release, and not the original 1988 broadcast version. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, being five years old at the time of broadcast, it would be impossible for me to review that version (until a special edition DVD is released, containing the original and extended versions a la ‘The Curse of Fenric’). Secondly, the video release is one mostly likely seen by most fans more than fifteen years after broadcast. Not that it would make a whole lot of difference, as I gather the added footage doesn’t change the story a great deal. Anyway, on with the review… 

I’ll get straight to the point with this one. ‘Silver Nemesis’ has a reputation for being utter tripe, without a single redeeming feature. Many would have you believe that ‘Silver Nemesis’ is in fact one of the worst Doctor Who stories of all time. And, in many respects they are right. But for some reason, I can’t help but enjoy watching it. Shoot me. Now that I’ve got that out of the way, you’ll understand why I’ll spend the next four paragraphs ripping into the story, only to recommend it as an entertaining diversion at the end. And rip into it I shall.

Let me first deal with the similarities in plot this has with ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’. It has to be said that the two are basically the same story told in slightly different ways. To summarise the plot, various groups are fighting over a super weapon, with one of these groups being one of the Doctors oldest adversaries, the Cybermen. The Doctor manipulates the various factions into wiping each other out, until only the orbiting Cyber fleet is left. He then uses the weapon against the Cyber fleet, completely obliterating them. Replace Cybermen with Daleks and Cyber fleet with Skaro and you have the basic plot outline for ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’. This might have been excusable if these two stories were spread out over different seasons or if ‘Silver Nemesis’ actually tried to hide these similarities, but they were broadcast far too close to each other and at one point during ‘Silver Nemesis’ Ace says, “Just like you nailed the Daleks.” It’s almost as if the production team were proud in some way to be recycling plot lines.

‘Silver Nemesis’ is full of some of the most obvious padding of any Doctor Who story. The encounter with the skin heads and the limo ride with Delores Grey add absolutely nothing to the story and are, please forgive me for lowering the tone, shite. These are two prime examples, but one could also mention all that nonsense with the queen and her security guards. These scenes are so excruciatingly bad they border on the cringe worthy. If these pointless little diversions (which are clearly meant to be humorous, but aren’t) were removed then you’d have a half decent story. McCoy and Aldred are both a joy to watch, from their first scene enjoying a jazz session, where Courtney Pine guests as himself, to the scene where the pair jam the Cybermen signal for reinforcements with one of Pines cassettes. The battle scenes are well handled and the English countryside is well used as an exceptionally pretty backdrop. Furthermore, the supporting cast, which includes Anton Diffring and Fiona Walker as Her De Flores and Lady Peinforte respectively, all give decent performances, despite being poorly served by the script. But even with these plus points, ‘Silver Nemesis’ seems more than able to shoot itself in the foot and back all at the same time with one element to the story they really should have tried harder to get right. I am, of course, referring to the Cybermen.

Now, no review of ‘Silver Nemesis’ would be complete without commenting on these ‘deadly adversaries’. For a monster or creature to work and be scary within the confines of an early evening family show, then it should all be taken deadly serious by the cast and crew. It shouldn’t be played for laughs. But laugh at the Cybermen I did. You see these buffoons are so weak, stupid and incompetent that half of their number is wiped out by gold tipped arrows, and the other half by a teenage girl with a slingshot and some gold coins. I do realise that gold is to these creatures what garlic is to vampires, but here it is taken to ludicrous extremes, with them fleeing in terror at the slightest hint there may be some gold nearby. Yes, the costumes look great and the effect on the end of the Cyber guns is rather nifty, but they appear unable to shoot straight and are easily defeated. I’m also confused as to why the Cyber fleet only sent down one small group to retrieve the Nemesis, when in orbit we are told they have “thousands of ships”. 

It has to be said that it doesn’t start off too bad. In fact, episode one is quite promising. It’s only when all of the main players are involved does it begin to fall apart. And that is perhaps the biggest flaw with ‘Silver Nemesis’. Far too many things are happening, and the whole thing jumps around far too much.

I said I would recommend it, and I shall. You see, for all its flaws and shortcomings as a piece of TV Sci-fi and as a Doctor Whostory, I always enjoy the experience of watching ‘Silver Nemesis’. Maybe it’s the ‘so bad its good’ element. Perhaps ‘Silver Nemesis’ is really a classic Doctor Who adventure, it’s only when you attempt to pull it apart and analyse it does it transform into the polished turd that most think it is, I’m not sure. But what I am sure about is that every time I watch ‘Silver Nemesis’ and come away from it knowing it was pap and knowing there are far more productive ways to spend my free time, I’m also aware that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

And isn’t that the point?

Season twenty-six of Doctor Who threw up some great stories. ‘Survival’ and ‘Ghostlight’ are widely recognised as beingDoctor Who of the highest order, and rightly so. OK, so ‘Battlefield’ was pants, but every season contains at least one shocker. Out of the four stories broadcast that season was a Doctor Who story that I consider to be the best of the best, ‘The Curse of Fenric’. 

It can be difficult to review this story as there are really three different versions floating around. There is of course the 1989 original broadcast, which is also included on the DVD release. Then there is the early nineties video release, which contains new material not originally broadcast, and finally the special edition DVD release, including even more new footage, a new 5.1 Dolby soundtrack and new CG special effects. Scenes are also rearranged so that the whole thing plays much more smoothly, as the director Nicholas Mallet originally intended. In my opinion, all of the things that make this story so great were already in the original broadcast, so that is what gets reviewed here. The special edition is just icing to the already delicious cake underneath. Also, it is probably unfair to review the special edition alongside episodic televised stories, as the thing has had a lot of extra care taken with it (outlined above). 

In fact reviewing ‘The Curse of Fenric’ isn’t only made difficult by the various versions of it that exist. It’s made more difficult by the fact that it’s a near impossible task trying to nail down just what the story is all about. Is it a), an anti-war story, b), a vampire story, c), a character study of Ace as she grows into a woman, d), a story about ecological disaster or e), a WW2 war story. It’s all of these things and more.

Set during WW2 Ace and the Doctor travel to a secret military intelligence installation on the English coast, where base Commander Millington and Dr Judson are cracking Nazi codes. They also appear slightly preoccupied with Viking rune stones, for reasons that are made more apparent later. Thrown into this mix are Russian Spetznatz commandoes who arrive to steal the computer that is cracking the codes. Unknown to them, the computer contains a chemical bomb that will detonate when a certain word is decoded back in Russia. As if all this wasn’t enough, vampire hordes (Haemovores) rise from the sea and summon the ‘ancient one’. As the story unfolds we learn that this is all a backdrop to an ancient game played out between Fenric and the Doctor.

All of these elements could have made ‘The Curse of Fenric’ an unfocused mess, but I feel the chaotic narrative structure (which is more apparent in the broadcast version) is suited to one of the themes that Ian Briggs was writing about; Chaos. The story is essentially an anti-war piece, with Fenric representing war and chaos. As the story unfolds more and more people die senselessly either at the hands of the Haemovores or the soldiers, who spend the final episode dying in their droves. The Reverend Wainwright is actually one of the more important characters in this regard, as he has lost his faith because of the horrors of war and ends up losing his life as a result. On the DVD, Briggs talks about sex being an important part of the story also, but this is alluded to far less in his scripts, (it is primarily a children’s show after all!).

Moving away from the plot and themes, it has to be said that ‘The Curse of Fenric’ looks superb. Entirely shot on location, the story contains an atmosphere that very few late eighties Doctor Who stories ever did. Mallet directs superbly, especially considering the time constraints. As Briggs points out on the DVD, ‘The Curse of Fenric’ was recorded on a fourteen day shoot, which is very little time when what they filmed was essentially a feature film. 

Mark Ayres’ score is haunting, creepy and a pleasant move away from the horrible Keff McCulloch synth-rock music we got during the majority of the McCoy era. 

Performance wise, ‘The Curse of Fenric’ can’t really be faulted. McCoy gives one of his best performances as a much darker Doctor. Now, many people have a problem with the idea of a ‘dark Doctor’. I’ve never really understood this, as in my opinion it makes the character of the Doctor far more interesting. He doesn’t just wander into situations, bumbling around finding solutions by accident. Now he has a plan, he often knows what is going to happen and doesn’t mind using the people around him like pawns. Ace, at the end of episode four, has to broken down in order for the Doctor to defeat Fenric, and to do this he has to destroy her faith in him.

Speaking of Ace, this has to be one of Aldreds finest hours in the show. She plays the part with a maturity not often seen before. This story, like other season twenty-six stories sees Ace being a pivotal feature of the action, so it was important she performed well.

The supporting cast are all excellent, especially Nicholas Parsons as Wainwright, even if he didn’t have a clue what was going on (on the DVD commentary he sound absolutely bewildered and completely confused!). Perhaps the only criticisms of the performances that could be made would be of the two young evacuees, Phyllis and Jean. They act as if they are appearing in a dodgy sixth-form production, and actually have quite substantial roles in the story.

If you haven’t seen ‘The Curse of Fenric’, then you really ought to. Any preconceived notion about the McCoy era ‘all being a silly pantomime’ will be blown away by the best Doctor Who story ever.

Let me begin by saying that I have never understood why so many fans dislike ‘Timelash’. Personally, I really like it. Sure, it is undoubtedly the worst story of the otherwise excellent Season 22, but who cares’

Boasting a superb Doctor, an easily followed plot, a wonderfully hammy performance from Paul Darrow, an android that’s sucked in too much helium, and a quite ridiculous script, it is, in short, ninety minutes of great fun. Not a morbid classic like ‘Revelation of the Daleks’, nor a breathtaking epic like ‘The Two Doctors’, ‘Timelash’ is a disposable little story with a fair amount going for it.

Before I go any further though, I shall briefly outline the plot:

The TARDIS lands on Karfel, a planet ruled by an evil tyrant called the Borad. Now, although a hideously deformed mutant (half Karfelon/half Morlox), he’s also a bit of a randy nirk and soon decides to take Peri for his mate. Not only that, but the Borad also plans to destroy all Karfelons by provoking a war with their neighbours, the Bandrils. The Doctor, however, foils these plans, saves Peri and makes peace. 

Colin Baker (my favourite Doctor) is, as always, absolutely excellent. By the time of ‘Timelash’ (the fifth story of Season 22), the Doctor’s personality is fully stabilised and he really does come across as an articulate, exuberant, slightly bombastic, if rather fallible, eccentrically endearing character, roaming the galaxy doing good and righting wrongs. His performance is faultless, and you certainly get the impression that Baker is an actor whom relishes his role. Nicola Bryant is also quite good as Peri. Although she’s the sort of actress that one can always tell is acting, she imbues Peri with a bubbly enthusiasm which constantly entertains. Not only that, but her little jibes at the Doctor are also amusing - usually serving to prick the characters pomposity and bring him back to reality. Overall, the Doctor and companion team operating in ‘Timelash’ are never less than a pleasure to watch, blending perfectly into the story.

The other characters are a fairly two dimensional bunch. Paul Darrow delivers an amusing performance as Tekker - wringing every ounce of ham from the cheesy and silly script: ‘Save your breath for the Timelash, Doctor - most people depart with a scream.’ David Chandler is also good as a young H G Wells: he is suitably enthusiastic and jolly, if not a tad irritating. Clearly, the Doctor finds him annoying, and the banter between the two provides many a smile. Robert Ashby is fine as the Borad, although I shouldn’t imagine that sitting in a rubber costume looking angry requires much acting skill anyway.

When it comes to special effects, ‘Timelash’ is a mixed bag. The rapid ageing of Renis in episode 1 is actually rather impressive, and the way his brittle body crumples onto ground is really quite disturbing. On the other hand, the Bandrils and Morlox simply look absurd - pathetic puppet creations that, quite honestly, look like something out of ‘Splitting Image’. Mind you, ‘Doctor Who’ has never been a show brimming with fantastic special effects, and cacky ones should not be allowed to detract from the viewer’s overall enjoyment. If anything, I would suggest that the odd crappy effect adds tremendously to the programmes charm. 

Pennant Roberts’ direction is certainly nothing special - but, thankfully, does not detract from the story. In fact, he brings some of the sequences to life really rather well; for example, there is a very effective (if not slightly grotesque) scene in episode 1 in which an old man that is meant to be the Borad turns around to revel a head crammed with wires. Some of the shots are a bit clumsy, however: do we really need long drawn-out shots on a completely unconvincing looking Morlox’ 

I also like Liz Parker’s incidental music - flippantly eerie, it’s perfectly suited to the story.

In conclusion, ‘Timelash’ has it all: silly plot, ridiculous dialogue, absurd villains, tinsel sets - the lot! However, the central performances of Baker and Bryant are excellent and the story zips along, delivering many an unintentional smirk as it goes. This is not serious ‘Doctor Who’. To watch this story and enjoy it, you do need a sense of humour. And, as long as your humour is on stand-by, the much criticised ‘Timelash’ could well turn out to be a pleasant surprise.

‘The Curse of Fenric’ is an unusual story in that the version most widely accepted by Doctor Who fans is not the version originally broadcast. Whereas extended versions of both ‘Silver Nemesis’ and ‘Battlefield’ have been released on video, neither really gained anything that was missing from the original broadcast version; ‘The Curse of Fenric’ however benefited enormously from the few extra minutes of material incorporated into the video release. More recently, the original televised version has been released on DVD, but with an impressive extra in the form of an even longer cut that has been fully reedited and includes even more footage than the previous video release. The actual story isn’t significantly altered, but both extended versions flow more smoothly than the comparatively truncated original, with the extended DVD version apparently closest to the vision of director Nicholas Mallett. None of which is massively important here, except in that it is the extended DVD release that I have watched on this occasion, which doesn’t significantly affect this review but might be of interest to the more curious reader.

Anyway, turning to ‘The Curse of Fenric’ itself, it is a story that is more difficult for me to review than might be expected. As with any Doctor Who story often described by fans of the series as a classic, there is very little that hasn’t been said about ‘The Curse of Fenric’. Partly this is because it can retrospectively be seen as the archetypal Cartmel story, the culmination of all the finest qualities that he strove to bring to the series during his tenure as script-editor and because it arguably had a far greater impact on the New Adventures than more obvious candidates such as ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’. My reasoning for this is that here we see the Doctor at his most manipulative, as he uses Ace as a pawn in a game that started long ago with an ancient evil from the dawn of time. It also sees Ace starting to grow up and develop as a character, more so than any previous story, as she confronts her feelings for her Mother, has her faith in the Doctor shattered and also starts to obviously become aware of her sexuality. ‘The Curse of Fenric’ also seems to be aimed at an older audience than that which Doctor Whois traditionally perceived to have aimed for, with doses of horror including vampires, corpses, and chemical warfare. ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is a grim and gritty story in which almost every supporting character dies and puts Ace through emotional hell. Finally, ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is also riddled with subtext, much of which writer Ian Briggs discusses in the DVD extra Shattering the Chains, and which generally concerns sex and faith. Most of this is obvious, such as the “seductive” appeal of Jean and Phyllis and Ace’s later distraction of the guard, Wainwright’s wrestling with his faith, Sorin’s faith in the Russian Revolution, and Ace’s faith in the Doctor, some less so; I’d never made the connection for example between Doctor Judson’s physical disability and Alan Turing’s homosexuality. For fans who dislike such blatant subtext in Doctor Who, ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is probably an especially bad example of all that was wrong with the Cartmel era, but for better or for worse, it signposts the direction in which Doctor Who would go in the New Adventures more clearly than any other story from the period, as a whole new generation of young writers would bring their politics and opinions to the good Doctor’s adventures. 

An exploration of the subtext within ‘The Curse of Fenric’ should not detract from appreciation of the story at its most basic level however; it is a very good slice of Doctor Who, which for the most part has aged extremely well. The plot is well structured so that suspense builds throughout the first half of the story, as questions are raised about the mission of the Russian commandoes, Commander Millington’s agenda, and the significance of the Viking curse. Once what was originally the cliffhanger to Episode Two is reached, the story shifts gear; once the Haemovores emerge onto land the remainder of the story is a fast-paced thriller, with explanations coming thick and fast as both Fenric’s and the Doctor’s plans become clear. This structure works highly effectively; there are no reprieves once the Haemovores attack as the Doctor and Ace find themselves facing threat after threat as the endgame draws near and bystanders die one by one. 

Crucial to the success of this plot is the characterisation, which allows the actions of the supporting characters, the dangers they face, and their deaths, carry real impact. The Rev. Mr. Wainwright is a case in point; he’s a tortured soul desperate to believe in the essential goodness of humanity but increasingly unable to do so against the backdrop of World War II. The scene in which he reads from the Bible is crucial to his character as it illustrates his crumbling faith far more effectively than the taunts of Jean and Phyllis, but all of this would just be so much subtext were it not for the fact that Wainwright is thoroughly likeable. The massively underrated Nicholas Parsons conveys Wainwright’s uncertainty and fear very convincingly; his bravery in facing his terror is admirable and it makes the fact that his faith ultimately proves too weak to save his life all the more poignant. Basically, all of Briggs’ characters are human; Mrs. Hardaker is an old battleaxe whose strict attitude towards her charges automatically predisposes any young (or just liberal!) members of the audience to dislike her. She throws words like sin around very easily, and shows an unshakable faith in the “good book” whilst Wainwright expresses doubt about the morality of war, which is the blind faith of somebody who unthinkingly follows doctrine rather than attempting to understand what it is they actually believe in. Janet Henfrey captures all of this perfectly, looking and sounding every inch the strict governess, and yet when Jean and Phyllis actually kill her, we briefly get to see her smiling and relaxing as she listens to music rather than the severe and apparently cold person that she has been portrayed at up until that point. Which is important, because it means she isn’t just another corpse to boost the story’s body count in a way that possibly appeals to fans that think that ‘Resurrection of the Daleks’ is “adult”, it means that she is a human victim whose death feels like a loss. 

Perception of death is very important in ‘The Curse of Fenric’. The Russian commandoes, Sorin included, are prepared to kill to succeed in their mission, but again Briggs and director Nicholas Mallett make sure that the deaths that they cause are not lightly forgotten. The home guard soldiers killed on the beach are laughing and joking as they go out on patrol and Prozorov is deeply troubled at having killed them; it doesn’t make it any easier to excuse the actions of him and his fellows, but it does explore the horrors of war in a quiet way that is rare in Doctor Who on television. Sorin is a particularly interesting character in this respect, because of what he believes in and what he does, and the way Ace responds to him. Some fans have expressed a serious misgiving about the fact that Ace is attracted to a man that embraces a regime that killed millions of people; I think this misses the point however. It’s very easy to think of Stalin and forget that originally, the Russian Revolution succeeded because Lenin had the support of many of the ordinary people. It is easy, but foolish I think to dismiss such people as “evil” out of hand; we don’t know why Sorin has such faith in the Revolution and we don’t know whether or not he is aware of the atrocities that Stalin was committing at this time. Because we don’t know these things, and because Sorin is portrayed as a man prepared to kill for what he sees as the greater good, the character becomes more powerful because the script encourages us, largely via Ace, to see him as a person and grow to like him. He is portrayed as a man of conviction and courage and Tomek Bork brings a warmth and charisma to the role, all of which helps to create conflict in the viewer. In a story in which the principle villain is “pure evil”, such muddying of moral waters makes for fascinating characterisation.

A rather less likeable character is Alfred Lynch’s Commander Millington. Like Sorin, Millington is a man prepared to kill for what he thinks is the greater good, but unlike Sorin these actions are harder to justify. Juxtaposed with Wainwright’s angst at the thought of British bombs falling on German cities and killing German children is Millington’s willingness to use a chemical weapon on a Russian city at such time as they cease to be Britain’s allies, a stance that he explains by telling the Doctor, “It could end the war”. Millington is a man who has stared too long into the abyss, whose obsession with tapping into the Nazi psyche has made him a monster; his speech about the men trapped behind a bulkhead on a burning ship is terrifying, not because it is impossible to understand, but because he uses it to excuse the deaths of the two Russians sealed in the mine shaft with the haemovores. The men who died on board the ship might well have been sacrificed to save the rest of the crew, but there is plenty of time to save let the Russians out before the haemovores reach the end of the tunnel. The deaths of the crewmen on board his old ship is uncomfortable too; there may be logic behind it but it is given an all too human perspective shortly afterwards in the shape of Kathleen Dudman’s grief over the news of her husband Frank’s death. 

‘The Curse of Fenric’ is also notable for the characterisation of the regulars; this is Ace’s best story, as she grows up noticeably, and Aldred puts in her first real decent performance. Her concern for the baby is convincing, and she manages to convey fury at the Doctor when she realises that he knows what is going on. Ace thus works as somebody to whom the audience can relate for the first time, and she gets some nice scenes; critics of the Cartmel era often dismiss her faux pasover the fact that Kathleen is married as a just another piece of the social commentary that they argue unnecessarily clutters the era, but whatever else it may be it is also a nice reminder of the period in which ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is set. I wouldn’t give a second thought to the possibility that Kathleen might be single mother any more than Ace does, but it is a reminder that this is set in an era when it was a real stigma that people were ashamed of. Having said of all this in praise of both actress and character, the scene in which Ace distracts the guard is woefully overrated; it is a self-conscious and self-satisfied piece of dialogue that doesn’t really convince and is delivered in a horribly unnatural manner by Aldred. Nevertheless, considering how bad Ace’s dialogue was in Briggs’ previous ‘Dragonfire’, her only truly appalling line here is “Who do you think you are, armpit?”

And finally there is the Doctor. ‘The Curse of Fenric’ shows the Doctor at his most manipulative, as he plays a game of chess (both literally and metaphorically) with an ancient and powerful foe, in which people die. It is often suggested that his actions here are less damning than those in ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’; certainly he doesn’t destroy any planets here, but many people fall along the wayside and whilst it can be argued that he tries to save as many people as possible as he battles Fenric, I should like to point out that there is no reason given why after their last encounter he couldn’t simply have taken the flask that he trapped Fenric in and dumped it in a black hole like he did with the Fendahl skull. In addition to which, the Doctor’s psychological abuse of Ace reaches its peak here, as he destroys her faith in him to defeat Fenric, reducing her to tears; he clearly regrets his actions afterwards as he tries to reassure her that he didn’t mean it when he called her an emotional cripple and told Fenric to kill her, but personally I’d never trust him again. None of which is a problem however, since I like this darker aspect of the Doctor, one that would reach new heights in the New Adventures. I also find it rather amusing that the chess move with which he confuses Fenric is utterly illegal, which means that he won last time by cheating… McCoy’s acting is very good here, even during his “evil from the dawn of time” speech, when he has to convey anger, something that he often has trouble with. McCoy’s Doctor broods throughout, creating the impression that he is weighed down by the choices he hasmade and is forced to make, and it works beautifully. 

Overall, ‘The Curse of Fenric’ is a story in which everything comes together. Mark Ayers’ atmospheric score is crucial to the mood of the piece and has aged very well. Nicholas Mallett does a superb job of directing, and he manages to get the best from his actors, all of whom give excellent performances, with the exceptions of Joann Kenny as Jean and Joanne Bell as Phyllis, both of whom are fine until their characters turn into vampires after which they become a bit hammy, albeit not enough to seriously compromise the production. The sets mesh perfectly with some stunning location work. The special edition benefits ‘The Curse of Fenric’ even more, as it is given a spit and polish and little details like the stakes carried by Sorin can be seen in context for the same time. Andrew Cartmel’s approach to Doctor Who reached its zenith here; ironically, only one story later, it would all come to an end…

'Warriors of the Deep' is not an especially popular story, and this is often attributed to a decent script let down by poor production values. But personally, I'm not even that enamoured of the script, and whilst I do quite enjoy 'Warriors of the Deep', it is deeply flawed in many aspects. 

Firstly, I'll discuss the Silurians and the Sea Devils. The nature of the Silurians is such that any story in which they feature potentially offers a moral dilemma for the Doctor; the Silurians, after all, have a legitimate claim to Earth, and they want it back. Humanity also has a legitimate claim to Earth and they don't want to give it back. Whilst some humans and some Silurians might be willing to share the planet, others would not; given the racial intolerance between different races of humans, the possibility that the world's human population would accept another species is sadly unlikely. The consequence of which is inevitably bloodshed; this was the case in 'Doctor Who and the Silurians' and 'The Sea Devils', and it's the case here. The result of which means that the Doctor can almost certainly never achieve the peaceful solution he'd prefer, meaning that he inevitably has to take sides with one of two species neither of which he is a member. Since the Silurians (or in their debut, some Silurians) keep attempting genocide, he usually of course sides with the humans. This moral quandary is central to the story potential of the Silurians, but the only reason I know that is because I've seen 'Doctor Who and the Silurians' and 'The Sea Devils'; the much-vaunted script of 'Warriors of the Deep' does bugger all with the concept.

This is my main criticism of 'Warriors of the Deep'; there is no dissenting voice amongst the Silurians or Sea Devils, they are all committed to genocide. A new viewer has no real reason to sympathize with their plight, since Byrne's only acknowledgement of it is in a mere handful of lines. The Doctor talks of the honourable nature of the two reptile races, but we see little of it on screen. Ichtar's talk of offering the hand of friendship twice before is not elaborated on and therefore has little impact and his actions unfortunately speak far louder than words. By the end, with everyone dead save for the Doctor and his companions, the Doctor's quiet assertion that "there should have been another way" is presumably an attempt to inspire regret at the lack of a peaceful solution, but the hostility of the Silurians and Sea Devils throughout has been such that it might more reasonably provoke the response "Yes, you should have bloody well flooded the base with hexachromite gas two episodes earlier Doctor!". Incidentally, whilst this is irrelevant to the success or lack therefore of 'Warriors of the Deep', I also find it quite amusing that the continuity on display is clearly aimed at long term fans, but only long term fans would realize that the continuity is crap; allegedly, Ichtar is meant to be the Silurian Scientist from 'Doctor Who and the Silurians', but this doesn't really work and neither does his description of past encounters with humanity. The most sensible assumption for anyone who feels worried by this is that Ichtar is describing an untelevised adventure, and indeed Gary Russell's 'The Scales of Injustice' plugs this gap nicely! But anyway, back to the matter in hand… 

Criticisms of the script bring me to hexachromite, an obvious plot contrivance introduced far too early on and almost embarrassingly convenient (Lethal to all reptile and marine life you say? Lucky you had some lying around then…). And whilst I'm on the subject, the equally convenient realization that there are ventilation shafts big enough to crawl through running throughout the base seems equally contrived; it's a clichй common to other Doctor Who stories, including the superb 'The Ark in Space', but with such a weak script as the one here, it strikes me as more of a cheap plot device than usual. 

The remainder of the plot concerns the function of the Sea Base and its role in Earth's political situation in the year 2084, and it is a bit better handled than the Silurian plot. The idea of two opposing power blocs was very topical at the time, but the handling of it here renders it slightly moronic; the decision to keep these two power blocs unspecified results in some clumsy dialogue as Nilsen claims that he works for the power bloc opposed to the Sea Base as though he's forgotten what it's called. Still, the world poised on the brink of nuclear Armageddon makes for a suitably morose backdrop to the story and this comes over reasonably well. It is quite well known that Byrne wanted gloomy, cramped sets to evoke the feeling of a submarine and to convey the fact the Sea Base and its personnel are operating under desperate conditions, but instead he gets brightly lit gleaming sets. Despite this, the air of tension on board the Sea Base is well handled due to the characterisation, especially of Maddox, a student forced prematurely into the role of Synch Op for which is he is patently unsuited. Martin Neil's twitchy, sweaty performance is superb, effectively creating the impression of a man in a vital role who is unable to cope with his newfound responsibilities. The desperate situation is made plain throughout, the need for radio silence to be maintained meaning the Sea Base personnel are forced to fight an enemy that totally outclasses them, and also forcing Vorshak to release Maddox's conditioning disc. 

But whilst the script does reasonably well at depicting the difficult conditions under which the Sea Base has to operate, certain members of the guest cast do not help. Ian McCulloch's Nilsen is quite effective, since he seems to be genuinely driven by duty and ruthless rather than sadistic. His co-conspirator unfortunately is less impressive; Ingrid Pitt hams it up in the role of Solow, culminating in a deeply embarrassing karate attack on the Myrka. Nigel Humphreys' down-to-earth Bulic is rather good and as the pragmatic Vorshak, Tom Adams brings a certain authority to the role, but as the story progresses it becomes clear that his performance is a bit too laid back. By the time Vorshak tells Ichtar that he won't be responsible for the destruction of his own kind, he sounds like he's complaining about the weather. 

The regulars are reasonably well used, save for Tegan who does little except follow the Doctor around so that he can explain things to her. The Doctor himself comes over very well, Davison putting in a frantic performance as the Doctor strives in vain for a peaceful solution. His near drowning at the end of Episode One is well realised although his surrendering of his gun in order to gain Vorshak's trust is hardly original, the same trick having been used several times before in the series. Turlough is very well used; his innate cowardice is explained here as pragmatism, as he twice abandons the Doctor because he genuinely believes that his friend is dead and he doesn't fancy throwing his own life away for the sake of a futile gesture. When he believes that he can help however, he does; when he pulls a gun on Nilsen to force him to open the airlock door and thus save the Doctor and Tegan he puts his own life at risk because he knows it might work. 

And what of the often-criticized production? The extensive sets are actually very good they just aren't what Byrne wanted. The costumes of the Sea Base personnel have aged very badly, and the big hair and eye shadow firmly place this story in the midst of the nineteen eighties. The Silurian and Sea Devil costumes are rather poor; the redesigned Silurians look the worst, appearing cross-eyed; the controversial decision to have their third eyes flash when they speak merely highlights the fact that the actors are unable to make it clear that they are speaking in the inflexible costumes, whereas this wasn't a problem in 'Doctor Who and the Silurians'. Their new voices are also poor, making them sound like Cybermen (especially since Ichtar keeps saying "Excellent!"). The Samurai Sea Devils are truer to their originals as are their voices, but the costumes fit poorly and the actors waddle about in a cumbersome fashion, which makes them look more comedic than they did in 'The Sea Devils'. The much-derided Myrka does indeed look quite bad, although no worse than many other large monsters in Doctor Who. In fact the overly flexible airlock door is far more irritating; surely the designer could have used something that wobbled less? On the other hand the model work is excellent, especially that used for the Sea Base. Jonathon Gibbs' incidental score is also very good, and helps to salvage the atmosphere somewhat, but it isn't enough. 'Warriors of the Deep' is strangely enjoyable, but it is also deeply flawed and overall proves to be a weak start to Season Twenty-One.