When perusing my reviews of “classic” Who, – if you remotely care; I’m just covering myself, here - you may chance to observe a recurring theme: repetitive criticism. Generally, I find 1963-89 serials (1996 aside, for convenience) to be characterized by at least (1) precarious screenwriting, (2) the sacrifice of character over all-consuming plot constraints, (3) a poor performance by the respective supporting casts, and (4) no pay-off – anticlimax. I’ll allow an exception for tremulous cardboard sets, as these can be attributed to oft-alluded budgetary limitations. Ergo, scripting figures particularly largely in my value system – something else that may become explicit and/or implicitly salient given time.

The Three Doctors, alas, adheres to these proposed criteria. Fortunately, it isn’t a prototypical example. Unfortunately, this is one instance where I’ll have to condone the scenery outright – the antagonist’s anti-matter world is just another quarry. Squandered opportunity.

Whilst not a classic, per se, this entry’s fun – a rarity, I’ve sometimes found. The Doctor (Jon Pertwee) is abetted by The Doctor (Patrick Troughton), with somewhat handicapped input from The [other] Doctor (William Hartnell). Their mission: to tackle the lamented, but very much ‘alive’ Time Lord Omega (Stephen Thorne) – whose Will inhabits the aforementioned idyllic landscape.

So, let’s review. The script is okay – although I wish characters wouldn’t whisperingly refer to Omega’s ‘blob’ extensions as “organism-things”. *Pedantic gripe over.* Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart (Nicholas Courtney) is frustratingly treated as an imbecile – refusing to believe Doctor #2’s periodic revelations. Yes, he’s a layperson to The Doctor’s interstellar lifestyle, but by now he should exhibit more faith.

This four-parter may be “fun” due to its falsification of my second criterion. For once, the concept of character is given free rein – mounted on equal footing to plot. The rivalry and repartee between the bickering second and third Doctors is a delight. First inspired idea: have The Doctor meet his past ‘selves’. Second idea: have him fall out with himself. It’s a shame Hartnell was unable to contribute more and in person.

The supporting cast disappoints. The ever-eagle-eyed Katy Manning (Jo Grant), John Levene (Sgt. Benton), Denys Palmer (Cpl. Palmer) et al. can’t act. ‘Nuff said. Thorne is excellent in his role at first, utilizing his voice and behaviour, unlike most villains, who typically and unimaginatively rely on costumed appearance – surely a series landmark? Sadly, he gradually metamorphosizes into a pantomime villain… Dr. Tyler (Rex Robinson) strikes me as an oddity. The Time Lords are sufficiently bland; Clyde Pollit is amiable as the Chancellor, easily outshining stiff-lipped Roy Purcell (President of the Council) and the distractingly-bearded Graham Leaman. Why not portray them as seemingly-omnipotent and mysterious shadowy figures? Laurie Webb exudes a larger-than-life personality and suave charisma as the esteemed Mr. Ollis. His forename is shrouded in secrecy, and only revealed in the final scene by Mrs. Ollis (Patricia Prior). Unfortunately, I can’t remember it just now. 

The Final Confrontation isn’t that anticlimactic.

Overall, The Three Doctors is a joy on first viewing. It’s burdened with traditional Who flaws (I could go on and on…), but the impish second Doctor’s return and Omega’s introduction (watch this space) make this entry entertaining and more accessible than most. ***[/5]

Spearhead From Space - new decade, new Doctor, new setting, new companion, new titles, re-arranged theme tune. Shot in colour, entirely on film and location. Phew, that's a whole lot of innovation going on! Admittedly, the latter two elements were forced upon the production team but was there ever such change brought about in one solitary story in the history of the series? An Unearthly Child was literally a new programme, the TV Movie wasn't, not really. One suspects that the Eccleston series will herald the greatest amount of change seen since January 1970. It must have felt odd seeing Troughton in control of the TARDIS having been used to the previous incumbent but all the usual trappings remained; companions, Daleks... Arguably Ark in Space is second only to Spearhead in the 'shock-of-the-new' stakes. Same companions and it carries on directly from Robot but just compare the two productions. Many consider Robot as a Pertwee story starring Tom Baker but no, it feels quite different. Baker, himself, gives it an unique feel and all the other, familiar characters are different because they react differently to a new actor. Ark in Space has a new Doctor, good old Sarah plus Harry but the whole atmosphere has changed. The story is positively charged with Baker, Hinchcliffe and Holmes. The combination is electric.

Spearhead from Space is virtually a new programme. History tells us that the BBC seriously considered scrapping the series in favour of something different. Effectively this happens with Season 7. The TARDIS makes little impact on the story (other than alerting the Brigadier to the possible return of the Doctor) and reference to the past is fairly oblique; Time Lords are alluded to, Jamie and Zoe are not even mentioned. It would seem that the production team were keen to attract new viewers, the complete lack of baggage appears to support this. This story really could have been part of new series completely unrelated to Doctor Who with very little change made to the script. The same goes for the rest of the season, and the next one too. 

Spearhead from Space benefits enormously from the deliberate and expedient changes wrought on the series. I don't subscribe to criticising any story that doesn't heavily feature the Doctor, as long as the story is a good one. Spearhead has a good, solid B-movie type script. This is not a to denigrate it, It's great; it tells a story that anyone can follow. No prior knowledge of the series is really necessary, UNIT is explained and all we really need to know is that something strange is happening in the woods and some soldiers are a bit twitchy. 

Effectively it's a story of two halves. The Brigadier carries the first two episodes and the Doctor takes command in parts three and four. This is probably the Brigadier's finest hour (and a half) and it's a shame that his characterisation isn't continued. He's an intelligent soldier with a pretty good grasp of science and not the Graham Chapman-like figure of later stories (it's easy to imagine Nicholas Courtney inside the TARDIS in The Three Doctors rebuking Troughton and Pertwee with, "Stop this, it's silly!"). The tale kicks in straight away with strange meteor showers hitting the Earth (south east England, naturally) and the way that Pertwee is introduced is a delight. Effectively we are teased by half-glimpses of him. Two hooks for the viewers: mysterious meteors; mysterious man.

The Nestenes are not the most original of genre baddies. We've seen their like before, and since, many times. From Invasion of the Bodysnatchers, the Thing from Another World, Faceless Ones through to Michael Myers and the toy factory of Halloween III. However, this simply doesn't matter. As a baptism of fire for a new Doctor/series they are pretty unbeatable. They have an affinity with plastic - a brilliant conceit because it doesn't have to be explained how this actually works (no cogs, springs, micro-circuitry, etc.) and the ubiquity of the substance itself makes them a formidable threat.

The Autons are probably the series' most monstrous creations simply because they tap into our primal fear of familiar, inanimate things coming to life, be it displays in Madame Tussauds or shop window mannequins. Terror of the Autons extrapolated the idea more fully but Spearhead has it's share of scary moments: Ransome being stalked by a (sinisterly blank-faced) plastic man. General Scobie coming face-to-face with his facsimile and the activation of the shop window dummies. All different manifestations of the same relentless, uncaring and wholly alien menace.

Jon Pertwee makes a great start to his era. He amuses with his bizarre obsession for his shoes, his "Unhand me, madam!" to the nurse (Carry on Doctor, perhaps?) and The Shower Scene that wasn't Psycho or Dallas. This type of humour seems to have a lot of detractors but I can promise you that my 6 and 7 year old boys found if very funny indeed! Pertwee looks simply brilliant; a great, interesting face, imposing stature and flamboyant taste in clothes. He has an imperious quality, no doubt, but a certain vulnerability too. Especially when in hospital and his misfiring attempt to leave (the story precariously poised) in the TARDIS. To a 5 year old boy (as I was when these episodes first aired) Pertwee was peerless.

The story isn't faultless, it has dated and is a little bit creaky in places. Some of Dudley Simpson's music is great (the Auton retrieving the sphere from the crashed UNIT Land Rover) but the score that accompanies the sequence with the Doctor stealing the consultant's car is grating in the extreme; it seems Simpson is unwittingly creating the theme to Worzel Gummidge 9 years early, but not in a good way. Much of the sound isn't as clear as it might be and some of the locations are a bit threadbare such as the Brigadier's office. Caroline John seem ill-at-ease and it's difficult to warm to her.

The guest performances are generally very good; John Breslin plays UNIT's best captain and it's a shame he didn't do more episodes. John Woodnutt brings Hibbert to painful life, you can see his inner conflict in every look and gesture. Channing - great name. Chillingly played by Hugh Burden with the right mix of ruthlessness and intensity - alien but plausibly human.

Spearhead from Space. Scariest monsters, scariest title sequence, scariest arrangement of a scary theme tune. Add to that a very different Doctor banished to an all-too-familiar Earth and you have a winning combination.

As I alluded to earlier, there are many features that this story shares with the Halloween film series. Relentless, terrifying killer (in plastic mask?) wearing blue boiler suit. The much underestimated Halloween III (effectively written by Nigel Kneale - can we deny his influence on 70's Doctor Who?) told the story of a toy factory with a terrible secret, guarded by murderous automatons and presided over by a driven but charismatic boss. The film's finale more closely mirrors Terror of the Autons, this time with the Master mischievously engineering the wanton massacre of the nation's children with dolls (if not Halloween masks). Kneale utilises that other British institution Stonehenge and it is a bit like watching a fun but gory Doctor Who story even if there is no 'Doctor' to Halloween III's Irish-American 'Master'. John Carpenter is a self-confessed admirer of Kneale's work and he in turn (unwittingly?) plagarises the concepts of Spearhead and Terror which themselves... and so it goes. It's Interesting to note that Kneale had his name removed from the film's credits because he objected to the violence and that Barry Letts felt he had crossed the line with Terror of the Autons...

Episodes suddenly becoming widely available after a long period are liable to see their reputations alter quite drastically, sometimes in a positive way (The Gunfighters) and other times in a negative way (The Web Planet). Usually after a few years people get used to them being around and they settle down into a more deserving place in polls, for better or worse. Time and time again this has happened – but with The Daemons things have stalled a bit because despite it being released on video in 1993 many fans have never got over the initial demystification and go around roasting it. It has never found its fair place between the two camps of its original reputation and its subsequent fall from grace; in fact, it has developed a reputation for not being able to live up to its reputation, which is unfortunate. More so than any other story then, it is important for me in this review to be objective and to judge this episode by its own standards; I have tried to ignore its contextual place in fan circles, which I feel has become hopelessly distorted.

It certainly begins well enough, with a brilliantly atmospheric beginning showing a man walking a dog over a graveyard on a dark rainy night (a form of suicide in this kind of thing), while Doctor Who’s most prolific director Christopher Barry cutting in shots of requisite spooky animals such as owls, rats and cats. This might sound a bit derivative but really these are simply stock elements that have been used and re-used over and over, and always will be; the Harry Potter novels wouldn’t have such a fan base if people worried about that sort of thing. This is the first of many location scenes in this story, giving it the genuinely good, non-tacky look that is so rare in a Barry Letts production.

Miss Hawthorne is a good character, but it is not until later that she gets a chance to shine as in the first episode Damaris Hayman is completely eclipsed by Robin Wentworth, who gives a brilliant and hilarious performance as the curmudgeonly Professor Horner. Other characters are not so good though: the Doctor is about as pompous and as patronising as he has ever been, which is one area of the critics’ argument I must confess to agreeing with, which can be seen from the start when he condescends Jo horrendously for not knowing about his remote control unit for Bessie (in terms of technology, this story rips of James Bond to the extent of splicing in actual footage and passing it off as its own). On the subject of Jo, then Katy Manning’s cutesy-girly persona is grating and doesn’t help matters at all. UNIT come off better, with Courtney, Levene and Franklin generally playing it straight against some quite silly lines: Nicholas Courtney even manages to sound authoritative when saying lines like “we’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, Doctor”. And since this is the end of season eight, is anyone honestly surprised to see the Master?

The locals are straight out of Straw Dogs and The League Of Gentlemen, but this is a good mysterious opener as it’s reliance on familiar imagery allows explanations to be withheld, heightening the atmosphere.

As for the BBC Three reference is funny in the light of subsequent developments in thirty years time but in the episode itself it’s an in joke, which passes muster though for not being too outlandish (I could hardly call it unrealistic). What makes it funnier though is that an archaeological dig is in fact more likely to be shown on BBC Four. The part where the reporter Alastair Fergus asks the professor to clarify his point “for the viewers” is a nice way of justifying the exposition, which borders on metafiction. I don’t mind metafiction when it’s done as subtly as this; it’s the “she’s read a website on the Doctor and she’s a girl?” from Rose and the awful “and now for our new science-fictions series, Doc-” from Remembrance Of The Daleks that are so annoying. The reference to the Doctor’s wig is also funny in a tightrope-walking kind of way that veers just the right side of self-referentiality, as clever witty humour can be very effective in serious episodes when used unobtrusively.

The set of the cavern is very impressive (and brilliantly filmed; this is one of Christopher Barry’s best episodes in terms of his skill as a director), but it does show up Barry Letts’s habit of spending money on one episode and the expense of others, John Nathan-Turner style. Still, it works well for this episode especially in scenes like when Bok comes to life, and the cliffhanger is a knockout. Following this Yates and Benton seeing Jo on television seems nicely non-contrived, which makes sense considering that in terms of the construction of the narrative it was the real reason the film crew were present in episode one.

The policeman’s death and the aerial sighting of the hoof prints makes for a very effective build up for Azal, and there is some great footage of the Brigadier’s helicopter (which amusing has G-UNIT printed on the front, like it’s part of a rapper’s entourage. Oh man, this review’s going to be dated in a couple of year’s time). The always-likeable John Levene gets a chance to shine, and his special effects-free incapacitation on the mandala is actually very impressive. Garvin’s death is visually stunning and also ties in well with getting the Doctor out of his coma, although this means he starts talking about the devil in a way sure to offend religious types.

We get are first good look a Bok, and to be honest he looks a bit mime-artisty although Brian Hodgson’s sound effects for him are excellent. The idea of a shrinking spaceship is interesting, but it does give rise to the question of why not just build a tiny spaceship in the first place? Because you might need a MASSIVE spaceship one day, that’s why!

Letts’s and Sloman’s script takes a controversial tone by calling the devil “mythical” and stating that Stephen Thorne in stockings is “far more real”, especially given Letts’s efforts not to be offensive. If I sound like I’m upset by this then I’m not, I can just see when people are undermining their own efforts. The much-derided “with horns” scene is also poor, because it presents yet another example of an annoying, boorish Doctor and also because it’s so crude on the expositionary front, with Jo asking the Doctor to repeat himself in plain language. The Daemons have been influencing humans for centuries, along with the Fendahl, Fenric, the Osirans and even the Daleks according to the new series; convenient how they all got what they wanted out of this conflict of interests. Yates’s popular line of summing up is good though, and he comes off much better than the Doctor.

Nicholas Courtney seems embarrassed at saying the “spare lemon” line, as he should be. The heat barrier, although a bit pointless, is amazingly cool and well realised even though the technobabble starts to reach critical mass as the Doctor starts giving instructions on how to build a fiddly machine (truly this is a Jon Pertwee episode) that can overcome it. The whole sequence of the helicopter’s hijacking is terrific, arguably one of the best action scenes in Doctor Who during the 1970s, and is it me or is it a North By Northwest parody? 

This is quite an exposition-heavy episode and a slight downturn (but only slight), and it shows the importance of the Master that he gets the cliffhanger.

The fourth episode begins with Azal’s legs: the CSO is actually quite good, but Stephen Thorne’s tights are a bit too obvious. In his four appearances in Doctor Who Thorne is best remembered for shouting, and it must be said that he relies on his voice a bit too much. Still, any criticisms levelled at him are easily outdone by later actors such as Terry Molloy. Meanwhile, Yates and Jo hide in plain sight behind a bit of railing, which is always annoying. 

The soot on Osgood’s face is a bit heavy on the slapstick, and the Morris dancer’s look uneasy. Benton being attacked by one and then rescued by Miss Hawthorne does not help is credibility. He redeems himself though in the scene where he shoots at objects to help the Doctor fake magic powers, which is just brilliant.

The final CSO when Azal is seen in full is less effective; although not bad in itself, the usual problem of a lack of environmental interaction presents itself and Thorne never really looks like he is actually in the cavern. The scientific nature of the Daemons’ power comes as a bit of a disappointment, although it is appropriate and even perhaps necessary to this programme.

This episode is padded out a little at the beginning, with some dialogue and action scenes that, while watchable and by no means bad, aren’t strictly necessary. Courtney’s “chap with wings” line has become a bit blunted by my overexposure to it, although there’s nothing wrong with it in itself, and Bok’s destruction and subsequent reconstruction is very good. The episode picks up again when the Doctor meets Azal, where the Daemon comes across as an extremely interesting character: a monster that cannot be called either good or evil. The moral dimension Letts brought to the series (and later took to an extreme) make an early appearance here, and is used well. I also have to agree with the story’s detractors in that the ending is very annoying and contrived, although hardly worse than the Doctor’s original plan of using his fictional machine to sap Azal’s power.

The Master is caught and, in another almost metafictional scene, is booed by the locals. Thankfully it’s Roger Delgado playing the part; if it has been Anthony Ainley it would have been unbearable. The last scene is corny, but more than made up for by the last few lines of the Brigadier and Yates going off for a pint, and the Doctor’s admission that “there is magic in the world after all”.

There’s a lot to criticise here (particularly in the later episodes) but also a lot to praise, and most of the criticisms are of fairly minor points. This isn’t the classic it could have been (mostly because the series’s lead character is so dislikeable), but it certainly doesn’t deserve to be trashed into the ground. It makes an above-average end to a fairly run-of-the-mill season, and I feel it should be recognised for it; unfortunately, after the initial demystification that happened twelve years ago, it has failed to reclaim the place it deserves in fan circles.

I find it quite surprising that it took a show about time travel nine years to present a story that used it as something other than a means of establishing setting; Day Of The Daleks is consequently a groundbreaking story within the programme, if not in science-fiction in general. It’s also, lest we forget, the first appearance of the Daleks for five years. If this wasn’t enough, it also succumbs to the myth that season openers should be big and bold and epic (I’d dispute that as there are plenty of worse season-openers than this, but this story and The Time Warrior get a lot of flak for it so I thought I’d mention it). As you can imagine then, Day Of The Daleks has a lot on its shoulders. While it’s a decent enough story in itself, I can’t really hide a sense of low-key disappointment. It could have been worse – but also better.

Starting from the beginning, the introductory scene is all fairly standard stuff. The obviousness of the set up is staggering, but not exactly bad and the old routines of the window mysteriously open have a certain charm simply through their sheer innocence. Dudley Simpson, who was at his very worst under Barry Letts, here provides a decent score (although a bit too loud in places, particularly here). The only problem with the scene is the guerrilla dress worn by the soldier; if he’d been in rags (which could have worked in the context of a devastating invasion) he would have worked much more effectively as a “ghost”.

Moving swiftly on to the regulars, it makes a very refreshing change (after seeing some of the later Pertwees) to see an intelligent, authoritative Brigadier whom Nicholas Courtney obviously relishes playing. The TARDIS scene (or console scene in any rate – how did he get it through the outer doors again?) is whimsy at first, but basically good, if only because the ‘future selves’ bit is really quite imaginative and ambitious for the time, even if the special effects require a bright yellow wall outside. Katy Manning makes for a less than impressive companion at this stage though, as even in her more intelligent stories she was still the most air-headed companion of them all (even Mel was proactive at times). Some find her wide-eyed earnestness endearing; I can appreciate that, but I just find her irritating now. Maybe I’m too familiar with her. All the stock feed lines (“I don’t understand” / “What’s happening”) are reeled out one by one in this scene, and the reference to Colony In Space lacks elegance. When the Brigadier arrives the scene turns into a massive expositionary vehicle; I tend not to have too much of a problem with this kind of thing as even the crudest plot-reveals can sometimes get by if that plot is good enough, but here it does feel like a definite overdose.

The Ogrons make their first appearance here; I feel from their cameo in the following season’s Carnival Of Monsters and then their larger appearance in that story’s following Frontier In Space that they were intended to become bigger monsters than was actually the case, but I quite like them. Conceptually a monster that is too stupid to be really ambitious but is instead content to bumble around and work for someone else is really quite original, and the make-up is excellent. The only problem are the voices, as the actors’ slurred speech is a very grating attempt to sound stupid, although it’s nowhere near as bad as the Robomen in The Dalek Invasion Of Earth. The further appearance of a guerrilla fighting this one further enhances the sense of mystery.

Wilfred Carter just sounds bored as Sir Reginald Styles, although his character description as an arrogant blowhard provides a convenient get-out. The location shooting is also a bit naff, which is extremely rare, although the weather doesn’t look like it was anything special and the location itself is a bit boring. Director Paul Bernard does the best with what he’s given, and there are some sporadic directorial touches throughout the story that are really quite impressive.

The disintegrator gun being reduced deliberately and obviously to a ray-gun for the purposes of explanation is extremely patronising to the audience. The special effect of it firing is good though. The explanation of the time-travel device is also peculiar: it is extremely inauspicious, which strikes me as odd as Louis Marks has held off revealing that the guerrillas have come from the future up to this point. I also find the Doctor’s condescending line of “top of the class, Jo” to be annoying, a throwback to his thoroughly dislikeable persona in The Daemons. In fact, didn’t he say that very line in The Daemons?

The female technician played by Deborah Brayshaw is absolutely dreadful. I know season nine isn’t notable for showcasing rivals for Laurence Olivier, but this really takes the biscuit. She sounds like a zombie, but then if I was playing a character who nobody could be bothered to give a name to I wonder how much enthusiasm I’d be able to muster either. The Dalek comes as a sudden shock (especially to those who were expecting not to see them until the cliffhanger), but the voices are terrible. The problem is not in terms of the modulation effect like in Revelation Of The Daleks, but that neither Oliver Gilbert nor Peter Messaline have the passion to play them, and in no other story has their monotones been so drawn out.

The Doctor raiding Styles’s cellar is a cool scene; Benton is his likeable self as always, although Mike Yates is uncharacteristically nasty here. The Doctor’s absent-minded karate on Shura is cheesy though; in fact all three of the guerrillas are a bit hammy, with probably Jimmy Winston as Shura coming off best. The set up for this story is very interesting, a sort of reverse Terminator: here the heroes are coming back to assassinate a villain with evil cyborgs in pursuit, rather than the hero coming back to protect a saviour with an evil cyborg in pursuit. However, Jo still asks too many questions, and wouldn’t the guerrillas know what Styles looked like in the first place?

Aubrey Woods as the Controller is deceptively good: he seems like a plank at first but portrays quite a multi-faceted character, eventually double-crossing just about everyone and turning from hero to villain and back again several times. I can’t think of another character who does that. His interrogation of Jo is very well written and subtle, which is good considering how crude some of the exposition has been up to now.

What we have now is possibly one of Doctor Who’s worst-ever scenes though, where the Doctor guns down an Ogron in cold-blood. What happened to peace? What happened to the Doctor not using a gun? In fact, what happened to the Doctor? It isn’t even necessary at all as the other Ogron is gunned down by UNIT troops anyway; it’s simply a complete betrayal of the entire show for no good reason: and the Doctor will refuse to commit murder later in the story. Presumably he’s made his weekly quota by that stage.

This is a slow episode on the whole; in fact, I’m now halfway through the story without mentioning any of the cliffhangers really. Maybe it’s because I’m watching an old edited-into-one version of the story from 1986 which makes them much less notable. Maybe it’s because we haven’t actually been told anything new of significance for twenty-five minutes. This cliffhanger in the tunnels is daft though: the Doctor has never been less surprised to see a Dalek. I feel like I’m blowing hot and cold about this story, but then again that’s exactly what the story does itself.

The portrayal of the Dalek-subjugated 22nd Century is nowhere near as effective as in The Dalek Invasion Of Earth as, run down though it is, a car park cannot be passed of as a labour camp. Even if it is a grotty 1970s concrete affair – I mean, the parking spaces are visible in many of the shots (maybe for those silly motor-trikes that everyone seems to be zooming around on in the 22nd Century).

The line of “Doctor? Did you say Doctor?” is silly as verbal double-takes are hardly very Daleky, and even if it was Shakespeare the inept delivery of the line wouldn’t be able to do it justice. The direction is still above average, but the story is still turning into a bland run-around. The plot elements have been revealed too early, so now all that’s left is to kill time before the (admittedly good) finale. 

However, I do like the juxtaposition between the forced labour and the fruit that the Controller offers Jo, which makes for an understated commentary on political pretence that seems even more relevant today. The Doctor’s interrogation is also good, as the veiled threat to the family of the factory manager makes up for any visual flaws in the story’s sketching in of the Dalek invasion. The following confrontation with the Controller is also good and dramatic, but is fundamentally only going over the same ground as before.

The motorised getaway vehicle is a contrivance that makes for a gratuitous and pointless action scene as the Doctor gets captured anyway, leading to the cliffhanger – it’s the best of the story, but nothing much in itself.

The final episode begins with the Daleks saying that they have invaded Earth “again”; as the original invasion hasn’t happened in this timeline this shows up a plot hole, which is something that affects this story quite badly.

The Controllers motivations are also well realised, as his subtle shift in attitude as the Doctor saves his life is wonderful to watch. This leads up to a good ending, with the realisation that the guerrillas have been time-looped all along. Here is where Marks makes a right pig’s-ear of the paradox plot, as there are several questions that cannot be answered easily: how did it get started in the first place? Also, if the timeline is altered so the war never happened, Shura wouldn’t come back in time and…argh! My head hurts.

From a purely dramatic point of view though, the revelation is brilliant, and the Controller granting the Doctor his freedom at the cost of his own life is a very poignant moment.

The final battle is well shot, but it is here that the lack of Dalek props becomes really noticeable; the real problem lies in the fact that one of the Daleks is a different colour so there are only two Daleks that can be passed off convincingly as making up the numbers. The final scene where the Doctor warns Styles not to let the conference fail is very good and atmospheric.

This story has one major ambition in its time paradox, but this is not realised well as a four parter. The Daleks need not be in it at all, and in fact if it was just an ordinary alien race I might like this story more. As it is, this story is no turkey and I’ll give it an average rating, but it’s simply not as good as it really needs to be given its undeniable and unavoidable importance.

Frontier In Space has the dubious distinction of being the only serial of Doctor Who that my sister has watched all the way through, and that was only because she was too ill to move. She passionately hated it, finding it boring, but it's actually a pretty decent story and probably second only to The Green Death in the programme's tenth season. However, it does tend to go round in circles a bit: I can tell you that over the course of the six episodes one or more characters gets incarcerated in a prison cell no less than seventeen times, including the lunar penal colony. Still, over-the-top lazy writer's devices are what the Jon Pertwee era is all about (more on that when we get to Planet Of The Spiders).

The first thing notable about this episode is the superb quality of the special effects, which is not something you can say very often about a Barry Letts production. This is particularly evident in the model shots of spacecraft flying about which, although looking slightly Thunderbirds-esque at times, certainly pass muster. As well as this though there is very little CSO present in this episode, being used only to create the television footage in the President's office. This is good, as the quality of the CSO is one of the most consistently poor aspects of Letts's time as producer. This may sound like I'm setting Letts up for a rough ride during the course of my reviews (for future reference, this is my first Pertwee review). Wait and see.

The opening scene with the freighter crew is obviously designed to set the story, but even though it lays on the exposition very thick it gets by by following the first rule of plot development: the characters actually have a reason to be talking to each other. There they are, two crewmembers of an unarmed ship that as far as they know could be attacked at any moment - why shouldn't they discuss the threat? The first scene with the Doctor and Jo shows Pertwee arguably not trying, stroking his lip and scratching his neck less than a minute after emerging from the TARDIS. However, Jo's characterisation improved considerably over her tenure (in inverse proportion to UNIT's) and so she's much less annoying here than she used to be, although the thought of a Katy Manning DVD commentary still fills me with horror. The pulsing spacecraft fills the episode with a sense of mystery - something common then but rare now in these days when everything has to be jammed into a forty-five minute space - which is always a good start.

Dudley Simpson's electronic score is very intrusive; Simpson often produced good work when using conventional instruments (which do feature in this story), but his output when using squeaky early-1970s synthesisers was rarely up to much. Still, there have been worse scores for the show, both by him and others.

The story is set in the 26th century, but I could have sworn it was 1973. More to the point, 1973's idea of what the 26th century would look like, viz, the fashions of 1973 but in spandex, perspex and a lot of other things ending in ex (I've watched Dalek a lot recently). The location work is well shot but the buildings they chose look so 1970s that the effect is spoiled, with what looks like a concrete leisure centre doubling as Earth control. It's like watching Doctor Who done on the set of Get Carter. Pertwee was right though when he said that the Draconians were great looking aliens, even though their 'honourable foe' characterisation seems slightly dated now having been done a billion times in Star Trek. It has to be said that Peter Birrel looks like he's struggling under his make up and his acting is very stagy; he is eclipsed in his scenes by Karol Hagar, playing his secretary. Louis Mahoney as the newscaster presents a largely successful attempt to show a wider universe (half 1984 and half The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy) beyond the confines of the serial's sets and locations, once you get over the shock of seeing a non-Caucasian in 1970s Doctor Who.

Back in space, the Doctor and Jo are locked up (a state in which they spend most of the episode). The mystery of the attacking Draconians is explained early on, which is rare, but done to set up a conspiracy storyline rather than a mystery. However, showing the Ogrons before the dramatic reveal as they burst through the airlock door does spoil the effect a bit, as well as making it fairly predicable that the Daleks are going to turn up at some point (it was stated by Vorg in only the previous story Carnival Of Monsters that the Ogrons worked for the Daleks). That said it is a nice twist to see them again and they are excellently designed monsters, looking like a cross between an ape and Little Red Riding Hood's gran. Also, their mercenary status and idiot characterisation make them more original than the usual "resistance is useless" job.

Episode two has a long reprise which is followed by the Doctor and Jo getting locked up; an appropriate beginning for an episode that goes nowhere. However, there is some funny dialogue to introduce the concept of a mind probe, although the "pink horse with yellow spots on" sounds like an insult from Arnold Rimmer. The argument between the Draconians and the humans ends as it began, with stalemate, and their refusal to believe the Doctor means that the third party storyline takes ages to get going. By the time of episode three not much has changed, but the dialogue is well written and just about hold sup across the serials' six episodes, saving the story from feeling overlong.

The mind probe looks like a little pork pie on a dish, but it's a great scene and it showcases the excellently characterised General Williams, who completely blots out what he doesn't want to hear even in the face of overwhelming evidence. Pertwee's face is a picture as the probe blows up, although shouldn't it take his brain with it?

The Doctor's relocation to the lunar penal colony is a good trick for preventing the story faltering along its length; changing the setting keeps the story fresh. Events are moved on further by the introduction of the Master, supposedly revealing himself to be the aforementioned third party. Having these plot points paced gradually over the story helps the plot no end as it means that we don't get one or two scenes of "what's happening Doctor?" hackery, and it also means that viewers at the time weren't required to remember everything that had happened six weeks previously. Having said that, the "only politicals get the moon" scene is not exactly subtle.

Professor Dale is very well acted by Harold Goldblatt. He reminds me sometimes of a less irritable version of William Hartnell's Doctor; in fact, he even performs a tribute to Hartnell by fluffing a line. On the subject of acting I should say that Roger Delgado is terrific in what turned out tragically to be his last appearance, especially as he had ended his last performance in The Time Monster hamming it up in a manner worthy of Anthony Ainley: the scenes where he confronts Jo for the first time and later when he blackmails the prison governor into relinquishing the Doctor are a joy to watch.

Episode four ties with episode two in seeing someone locked up the most times, with five counts of a character being shut in a cell. I should note that a boom mike shadow appears in the first cell-scene in this episode, and doesn't the Doctor say that he lost his sonic screwdriver in the penal colony? This would explain the new-look screwdriver from season eleven onwards. Glaring stock footage of the moon landing is used for when the Master's ship takes off but the model work generally is, as always in this story, excellent. Also, the Master reading War Of The Worlds is a nice touch, the kind of subtle self-referentiality that Russell T. Davies can never get the hang of. The spacewalk scene shows some very dodgy science but is visually impressive, although the Doctor does appear to swing about when supposed to be floating in the void - almost as if he's suspended on wires. He pulls out his oxygen pipe, but conveniently it only starts to propel him when he's pointing it in the right direction.

On my video episode five has the alternative Delaware arrangement of the theme music, so this seems an appropriate time to talk about it: it's awful, and it shows Barry Lett's thoughtlessness that he ever truly believed anything would ever top the original version - a mistake made by John Nathan-Turner ten years later, who when trying to make the show as modern as possible failed to realise that modern doesn't stay modern forever. It's hard to believe that the two versions of the music were actually made by the same person, which just goes to show what can happen when too much equipment is available; Delia Derbyshire really had to work to make the original, and that makes it what it is. The first time I heard the Delaware version, I thought I'd been slipped something.

The Draconian court is seen for the first time this episode, and obvious parallels are drawn up between the two camps: Draconia has the warmongering prince and the moderate emperor, while Earth has the aggressive General Williams and the rational president. The legend of the Doctor is a very Terry Nation style piece of work, and in fact one that would be repeated by Nation in the very next story. The raid by the Ogrons on the stolen ship is simple but effective, although the Doctor fires a gun without any qualm at all which is something very hard to equate with his character. I suppose something about the Ogrons brings out his violent side.

The Ogron planet is revealed, and it's a quarry. There are many clichйs about Doctor Who, and the one hardest to defend against is that quarries were used left, right and centre to provide alien planets. It has to be said though that most of the time (like now) the script did call for a barren wasteland, with the exception of The Three Doctors which just showed the production team not trying in the locations department. The final episode is largely set here, and there is some nice continuity as monsters from the last season are paraded before Jo. Back on Earth, the American calling for war when the audience knows it is unjustified may be a commentary on Vietnam, or maybe that's just me getting too analytical.

Typical of an episode set in a quarry, the visuals pall slightly in this episode: there are obvious wires in the spacewalk scene, and the Ogron eater looks like a soiled mattress. Is it me, or is the Doctor's scanner the same prop that was later used in The Mark Of The Rani? There is a well staged action scene though, that leads to the big reveal the Daleks are the masterminds behind the whole plot (in deference to this I have hidden a "bad wolf" reference in this review. Try and find it, conspiracy lovers!). Pertwee seems very unconcerned that his least favourite monsters have returned, and like I said earlier the presence of the Ogrons makes it less of a surprise than it could and should have been. Their voices are excellent: very smooth, but also totally electronic and tinny (although I prefer the harshness of the early Daleks and now the new series too). Also, Michael Wisher is an excellent voice artist, falling behind only Nicholas Briggs and the grand daddy of them all, Peter Hawkins; he's leagues ahead of Roy Skelton. However, the actors have trouble moving the props even on the smooth studio floors.

This all leads to an unusual cliffhanger ending leading directly into the next story, Planet Of The Daleks, but due to the tacky production and Terry Nation's derivative script the season's twelve-part centrepiece was less effective than it deserved to be: it's certainly nowhere near the quality of The Daleks' Master Plan, for which Frontier In Space and Planet Of The Daleks were conceived to rival. Still, this first half is sprawling, slow paced but also intelligent, mature and enjoyable and stands up as one of the better stories of Pertwee's last two seasons.

Oh my, oh me, ‘The Time Monster.’ I’m definitely going to need to get a cup of coffee before starting to talk about this one – a moment please.

[time lapse]

There we go – thanks. ‘The Time Monster’ has to be one of the most fan-whipped stories in this series’ history. Surely it could compete respectably with ‘The Underwater Menace,’ ‘The Creature from the Pit,’ ‘The Chase,’ and others in a contest to find the classic serial that has been the butt of the most fan jokes. 

And while I am not here to praise the story, exactly, I’m not here to bury it either. It is not an especially good story, and certainly not a great one, but newcomers approaching it on its reputation alone may be shocked by how un-awful it actually is. Indeed, most of the problems are simply ones common to the Pertwee/Letts era as a whole rather than unique to this poor story itself. Things like the comic scenes with the UNIT ‘family,’ the set pieces with the knight and the Roundheads, the fact that Benton lets the Master get away multiple times, and a generally silly and confused script are frequent targets of fan complaints . . . but we can certainly find equally silly things in better regarded Third Doctor stories, even ‘The Green Death’ (‘Doris’ scene, anyone?). And frankly, I would rather have facetiousness in the context of a none-too-ambitious story like this one than in a one where the goofiness distracts from genuinely original sci-fi. You know, like it does in ‘City of Death.’ (Yes, in some respects I prefer ‘The Time Monster’ to ‘City of Death’; thank you in advance for your e-mails and letters.)

In fact, judged on its own merits rather than as a scapegoat for the age, the biggest problem this story has is structural – like some other Pertwee six-parters, it really feels more like two stories instead of one, and once the action makes the full jump to Atlantis in Episode Five, the viewer may experience an unpleasant ‘What the hell is going on here?’ effect. But up to that point there’s actually been much to like about it – Roger Delgado gives one of his wittiest performances (I don’t even mind the accent), and Nicholas Courtney gets some his best-ever reactions to the Doctor’s problem-solving approach (“You astound me”). It has the look and all the expected trappings of an iconic UNIT story (I personally like the Doctor’s tea-leaf-and-cork thingummy), and all the business with the transplanted Roundheads, etc., is at worst harmless, and actually can be rather amusing if you’re in the right spirit for it. (Alcohol helps.) The Chronovore is transparently a man in a white chicken suit hanging from a wire, yes, but the production team *almost* pull it off – the creature is shown only fleetingly (always a mercy on Doctor Who), and the screeching sound effect is surprisingly convincing.

Now, it is true that once the action jumps to Atlantis things begin to go pear-shaped, as we are given painfully mannered dialogue, a minotaur that can be killed simply by jumping out of its way (nobody ever tried that before?), and, strangest of all, a soap-opera plotline that seems to have the Master having, erm, ‘relations’ with Ingrid Pitt. (Delgado’s idea, perhaps?) George Cormack’s acting is good, but it can only carry the production so far, and things do invariably begin to feel tedious. But surprisingly, it’s almost redeemed by Katy Manning’s bravery at the end (“Goodbye Doctor!”) – this is actually one of my favorite Jo Grant stories – and the strange, otherworldly ‘Kronos Transformed’ scene has a kind of serenity that anticipates the Guardian stories in later years.

All in all, this one’s undeniably a mess, like many stories of the era. But fans should probably see it for themselves before assuming it’s totally without entertainment value.