'Terminus' is a rather overlooked Doctor Who, but one of which I'm rather fond. Despite some shortcomings in terms of production and acting, it has much going for it, including an interesting plot, and it makes a fine leaving story for Nyssa. 

There are two major aspects to the plot of 'Terminus'. The first of these is the revelation that Terminus is a time machine that inadvertently caused the Big Bang when the pilot jettisoned fuel into a void. This is a rather controversial issue amongst fans, since it doesn't really hold up to scrutiny; the idea that jettisoned fuel could have created the universe seems a bit unlikely, and it is also paradoxical, assuming that Terminus was built by a race from this universe. Having said that however, it's an interesting concept and the impending repeat of such an action by the computer on board Terminus adds considerable drama to the final episode, given that if the Doctor cannot stop it the universe will be destroyed. The second plot thread is that of the Lazars, and more importantly their effect on Nyssa. Having discovered that Terminus is a rather inadequate hospital operating a kill or cure service for sufferers of lazar disease, Nyssa is rather painfully forced to see the true horror of the situation when she too becomes infected. It makes for some fine character moments, as she is forced into a shabby cell with other sufferers, callously manhandled by the bitter Vanir who have very little interest in their charges, and finally subjected to an insanely dangerous treatment in the form of a massive dose of radiation. For Nyssa, one of the most compassionate of the Doctor's companions, this is a perfect departure; having endured so much, she comes through her experience wanting not to get away and put it behind her, but to stay and help others facing the same situation. 'Terminus' is unrelenting grim, which is entirely appropriate given the storyline, but Nyssa's decision to remain on the station to try and improve things provides a ray of hope at the end, not only for the Lazars, but also for the Vanir, as she offers them a way to throw off the shackles of the corrupt and uncaring Terminus Incorporated. Sutton is very good throughout; she portrays Nyssa's distress very well, and the constant misery and suffering of such an inoffensive companion should tug at the heart of even the most cynical fan. The whole story works well at paving the way for her to leave, as she not only stays to help, but specifically remains behind to help by using her scientific skills, often overlooked during her television appearances. Her eventual farewell scene to the Doctor and Tegan is superbly well handled and very moving. It's a shame that director Mary Ridge makes her whip her skirt off for no good reason except possibly to titillate (yes, I know - she's feverish and takes it off to cool off. But it's still in close-up…).

The grim atmosphere of 'Terminus' is present from the start. The malevolent presence of the Black Guardian remains ominous for the TARDIS crew, and once Turlough's reluctant sabotage takes effect the feeling of foreboding mounts as the TARDIS locks on to the transport ship and a large skull motif appears on the wall of Nyssa's room as a door materialises. The skull motif is evident throughout the story, and helps to set the ton and so too does Roger Limb's funereal incidental music, but it's not just these obvious influences that make 'Terminus' seem so bleak. It's many things, from the spectre of lazars disease itself, the appearance of bandaged wrapped hands from behind locked doors and the pathetic moaning of the Lazars, the bitter weariness of the Vanir, and the corpse of the pilot still sat behind the controls of Terminus. I would imagine this dark mood does not appeal to many fans, and I can understand why, but it works to the benefit of the story. 

The use of the other regulars besides Nyssa is rather interesting. On first glance, it isn't very impressive; there is some soap opera bickering between Tegan and Turlough in the TARDIS at the start, and once the story moves to the ship the pair are effectively sidelined for the rest of the story by being trapped in some maintenance tunnels. But there's actually more to it than this, as it continues Turlough's development rather effectively; during his TARDIS scenes with Tegan, he initially demonstrates all of his worst character traits, as he proves smug and condescending. He is also of course still forced to work for the Black Guardian, albeit with increasing reluctance. But once he and Tegan become trapped in the ship, whilst they seemingly do little except wander about in an attempt to get out again, they actually start to form a guarded friendship as they are united by adversity; they swiftly start to cooperate, each seemingly developing a measure of respect, if not actual liking, for the other. Most importantly, Turlough's questioning of whether Tegan could commit murder in cold blood demonstrates his gradual redemption, as he increasingly comes to like the people he's travelling with. He's still obviously terrified of the Black Guardian, but he's becoming slowly more rebellious within the confines of his cowardice. Strickson plays the troubled character very effectively, conveying a great deal simply by frowning a lot. Davison meanwhile is his usual impressive self, and manages to forecast the impending destruction of the universe with remarkable conviction. He too is very good during Nyssa' final scene, and it's rather amusing to see him sidestep the question of whether or not it will be nice to see Tegan. This suggestion that he finds his loudest companion at this time rather tiresome on occasion is quite interesting, and was also hinted at during the final scene of 'Arc of Infinity'. It by no means suggests that he doesn't like her, but it adds slightly to their relationship that it is often less than harmonious, since friends inevitably annoy each other from time to time in real life. 

'Terminus' also benefits from some decent direction, adequate if unimpressive model work, and some excellent set designs both on board the transport ship and on Terminus itself. Where 'Terminus' falls down however is in the guest cast and certain aspects of the costume design. Whilst Valentine Dyall continues to impress as the malignant Black Guardian, the raiders and the Vanir are almost exclusively poor. The single exception is Peter Benson as the ailing Bor, but the rest of the Vanir are horribly melodramatic, especially Andrew Burt as Valgard. The two raiders are little better; both Liza Goddard and Dominic Guard as Kari and Olvir respectively adopt various daft macho postures whenever they are required to point guns at anything, and their delivery of certain lines is also rather dubious (most notably, Olvir's "We all going to diiiie!" at the end of Episode One). But their costumes really don't help; whilst the bronze plate armour worn by the Vanir is rather effective, the costumes worn by the raiders are diabolical, including as they do cartoon space helmets, small capes, and very big hair. Speaking of costumes, I'm also none too fond of those worn by the Lazars; bandages are understandable, but quite why lazar disease results in sufferers deciding to dress in filthy rags is beyond me. It would seem to be a rather unsubtle attempt to draw comparisons with traditional images of lepers, but the parallels between lazar disease and leprosy are already made clear by the script; it doesn't need to be hammered home. Finally, the Garm is reasonably effective, although the use of light bulbs for his eyes is deeply unfortunate. 

It's inevitable that dodgy acting will undermine a good Doctor Who story more than almost anything else save possibly for gaping plot holes, and to an extent this is unavoidable true of 'Terminus'. Nevertheless, it's worth trying to see past this to appreciate the rather satisfying plot, the great design work, and a fine departure for Nyssa.

Valentine Dyall had the greatest voice. He played God in Bedazzled and Gargravarr, custodian of the Total Perspective Vortex, in the "Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy" radio series. His voice can convey absolute menace, even when saying things like: "Operate the blue switches!" Sadly, in his role as the Black Guardian, he's just part of a linking storyline that gets in the way of "Terminus", which is not completed until the next one, "Enlightenment". 

"Terminus" itself has a story about health care at its worst; where commercial profit has made outsiders of disease victims. It's not the most well remembered story'; the subject is grim and there are lots of problems. Fans began to appreciate "Terminus" more after the great Doctor Who drought of stories – that period in the nineties when the series had been cancelled and every previous TV story got reassessed in publications like Doctor Who Magazine and In-Vision. The details behind the scenes of "Terminus" read like a production that was cursed. This had enough equipment failures, strikes, and lack of time to make the difficulties of Project: Greenlight's productions seem really whiny. Speaking of whiny, Roger Limb's music score in this can set your teeth on edge. It's not as good as his stuff for "Caves of Androzani" or "Revelation of the Daleks" and seems made up on the spot whenever someone on screen moves around. It constantly gets in the way. Perhaps Roger wasn't very inspired by this one. 

The Doctor and his companions come to a ship going to Terminus as a result of Turlough's interference. The ship is full of the terminally sick lazars, and Terminus is where they are swept under the rug. Terminus is a kind of space station that is supposed to cure the lazars, but no one's ever come back from it. Turlough is being bullied as a result of his promise to the Black Guardian in "Mawdryn Undead". Turlough is a cowardly twerp, but you can sympathize with the character when he's confronted by the Black Guardian and the suspicious Tegan (even scarier). He gets stuck in the ducting under the floors of the ship with Tegan for the whole story, and they're forced to work together. Even as Turlough is trapped in the ducting with Tegan, he still gets nagged by the Black Guardian's crystal. The Doctor is accompanied for most of the story by the raider pirate Kari, because he needs someone to talk to at all times and, doggone it; he just doesn't have enough companions to talk to. This is, of course, also Nyssa's last story. Nyssa takes off her skirt but it's 'cause she's got fever. For most of the rest of it she's in a potato sack like all the other lazars. She chooses to stay behind and help the lazars, as she's the best person to actually find a cure for lazar's disease. It's kind of a tacked-on leaving scene for a Doctor Who companion, just like when Steven left in the sixties to help the Savages. Fortunately the goodbye is more emotional. 

A scary atmosphere has been constructed in the scripts by Stephen Gallagher, but on screen it can get dull. Art deco skulls and eerie sound effects show the intention, but a lot of the sets have iron stairs or prop lights mixed in with wires and plastic bags. The pirates are done up in an 80's punk style with fuzzy hair and eyeliner, wearing capes and fog-up helmets. Fortunately the armored Vanir, guardians of Terminus, have great costumes. Another creepy voice in the story is the loudspeaker (don't say Tannoy Voice, it's copyrighted) doing the announcements about sterilization of the ship. This and the clinical, surgically implemented robots (there was supposed to be more than one!) continue the relentlessly grim feeling of the first few episodes. 

After the creepy ship is out of the picture, more mystery surrounds Terminus with the suggestion that it is in fact the center of the known universe. This comes in a little late and seems like an afterthought. Meanwhile Nyssa has caught the disease, as she takes off her skirt for what looks like no reason. She was originally meant to be feverish, unbuttoning the brown suit and brooch of her earlier appearances. Since John Nathan-Turner had changed her costume for Season 20, the removal of her clothing doesn't make quite as much sense, but... oh well, more Dads. She is then taken by the gruff slave labor Vanir, who just transport her from place to place like all the rest of the infected. "What is this horrendous place?" Poor victim Nyssa. That's about all her character ever got to be. She's had a tough time on the TARDIS, she'd better get out! Perhaps her choice to leave makes good sense after all. 

The Vanir are unpleasant, although they are shown to be workaday joes who have little choice but to go through the motions of their jobs. There is also infighting amongst their ranks, competition, all that stuff. One of the Vanir named Valgard stands out as being especially unpleasant and sneaky. They don't even get a paycheck, just glow sticks to insert into their chests. What a bunch of sad sacks. 

D'you hear someone singing? 

At this point the story introduces relief in the whimsical but tragic Bor. Bor is another guard of Terminus, but unlike the others he's delirious, singing and mumbling phrases repeatedly. "Short term memory's the first to go", as he says more than once. Yay Bor! Too bad he's got that nasty radiation burn. 

The leaking radiation builds as do other science fiction ideas with the introduction of the ancient dead pilot existing in slow time, the Garm, and the Big Red Switch counting down that moment when "the whole universe will be destroyed!" The Garm was meant to be a pair of eyes in shadows and not a Hanna Barbera character, but since they went and made this whole big costume and someone tall sweated like crazy in it, you might as well just enjoy it. As far as "the whole universe will be destroyed" goes, it might be said that the cliffhangers in this story are some of the worst. Episode one ends as the pirate Olvir almost sings "We're all going to DIIIIIIEEE!" Then episode two has Valgard in his chummy, impulsive way, strangle Kari, then change his mind and lets the Doctor know it's his turn, "Only you I'm going to KILL!" Then you get the Universe stuff. Pretty silly, and not good cases for having Doctor Who stories told in segments. 

On the whole, "Terminus" is not a bad idea. It's just that the execution was let down in parts, and it comes off as forgettable next to other Season 20 stories like "Enlightenment", and the celebration of "The Five Doctors". A few later Colin Baker & McCoy stories make it look like a well-executed classic. Throughout the four episodes "Terminus'" potential is there, and perhaps that's why it's worth looking at again.

'The King's Demons' is one of only a handful of two part Doctor Who stories, but only the second that serves no real purpose. Whereas 'Inside the Spacehip' cemented the relationship of the original TARDIS crew, 'The Rescue' introduced Vicki, and 'Black Orchid' allowed the team of the Fifth Doctor, Tegan, Nyssa and Adric to relax and have fun together before Adric's death, 'The King's Demons', like 'The Sontaran Experiment' is pure filler. Whereas 'The Sontaran Experiment' was an interesting diversion however, 'The King's Demons' is a half-hearted waste of two episodes with an ill thought out plot.

My main objection to 'The King's Demons' is the Master. It is my opinion that the Master's motivation has always been reasonably consistent up to this point; during the Pertwee era he was motivated by a desire to humiliate and impress the Doctor, usually whilst gaining power for himself in the process. From 'The Deadly Assassin' onwards, he has also been motivated by survival, having been reduced to the state of an animated cadaver and then forced to survive by stealing a non Time Lord body. And then suddenly, he turns into the Meddling Monk. The Master's plan to prevent the Magna Carta is feeble beyond words; his intention, apparently, is to use Kamelion to muck about with history all over the universe. Suddenly and inexplicably interested in chaos (perhaps he's been working for the Black Guardian?) he intends to emerge as Master of a chaotic universe. Which is just silly, frankly. His insistence back in Season Eight that he wanted to bring order to the universe at least made some sense. Then there's his pointless disguise, which is as pointless as the one he adopted in 'Time-Flight', and as in that story serves only as a cheap plot device to provide a cliffhanger. To make matters worse, it isn't even a very good disguise, Estram being easily recognizable as Anthony Ainley. Furthermore, even though Ranulf sees Estram transform into the Master, they are still astonishingly easily convinced to trust him in Episode Two, with not so much as a question as to how he changed his appearance. 

But what really annoys me about 'The King's Demons' is the wasted potential. Terrance Dudley does something right, by showcasing the Doctor/Master rivalry rather well during their scenes together. The swordfight between them is just as gratuitous as the one in 'The Sea Devils', but is once again quite entertaining. And as in that story, the Doctor proves the better swordsman, which must really sting the Master's ego. The Master showing Kamelion off in Episode Two is a pure Dr Evil moment, since he just stands and explains his plan with a smug look, but his showing off does recapture the relationship of old between them. The problem is, the relationship of old is captured to the extent that, even after the Master's destruction of a large portion of the universe in 'Logopolis', the Doctor still pleads for the life of his former friend at the start of Episode Two. His tendency to get a mass murderer get away because they were once friends is intriguing at best, but after 'Logopolis' it makes the Doctor look horribly irresponsible. And there's Anthony Ainley himself; after indulging in a cod French accent as Sir Giles, he varies between restraint and ham from scene to scene. When he's keeping his performance under control, he's great; his battle of wits with the Doctor is an effective focus for their rivalry, and the fact that the Doctor wins must have been another blow to his ego. He also gets a great moment when a guard shoots Geoffrey, as he pats the guard on the shoulder with a smirk and says "excellent shot" as though he's discussing the weather. But he also chuckles too much, and he gets saddled with lines like "medieval misfits!" which virtually nobody could deliver without sounding awful. His final speaking scene shows him triumphantly announcing that the Doctor has not won yet, and with a manic glee on his face heads off to his TARDIS. We don't see him again after his TARDIS dematerializes, the Doctor casually explaining that he used the Tissue Compression Eliminator to sabotage the Master's TARDIS. It all just feels very anticlimactic, even if the Doctor does manage to deprive him of Kamelion and ensure that he can't steer his TARDIS. 

The regulars get very little to do, partly due to time constraints. Davison is as good as ever, and he and Ainley make the swordfight quite impressive and the Doctor's playing up to the ersatz King John gives an impression of his mind furiously trying to find ways to stop the Master. It is also quite interesting to consider that the Doctor's concern for life earns him the enmity of Hugh, who considers himself to have been dishonoured by Estram sparing him; it's an interesting twist on one of the Doctor's common methods of earning people's trust. Tegan and Turlough on the other hand get very little to do; Tegan does little except follow the Doctor around so that he can explain the plot, although the moment when she throws a knife at the Master is a nice touch, serving as a reminder of just how much cause she has to hate him. Turlough spends most of the story locked up, and aside from offering occasional caustic remarks does nothing of any note. 

At the start of this review, I suggested that 'The King's Demons' serves little purpose, but of course it is in fact designed to introduce Kamelion. The problem is, this is something of a non-event; as a plot device, Kamelion is a contrivance; as a new companion, he has potential, but due to the notorious behind the scenes tragedies associated with the prop, this potential was never explored on screen. With Gerald Flood now deceased, it seems unlikely that Big Finish will ever include Kamelion in an audio story, which leaves only Craig Hinton's 'The Crystal Bucephalus' (and to a lesser extent, Christopher Bulis' 'Imperial Moon') the only story that has made anything of him. All in all, this is a shame; a shape-shifting companion has great potential, as fans of comic strip (and occasionally audio) companion Frobisher can attest. Furthermore, I rather like the Kamelion prop, and Gerald Flood's prim and slightly haughty vocal performance works very well. The problem with Kamelion though is that although he has a mind of his own, he doesn't have time to develop a very distinctive personality in this story and he isn't seen again until 'Planet of Fire'; furthermore, the ability of others to bend him to their will means that he seems more like a tool than a person, which means that the overall impression left by 'The King's Demons' is that it is an insubstantial showcase for a mere gimmick. 

There isn't much else to say about 'The King's Demons' really. The guest cast is fine, although Frank Windsor is wasted and Gerald Flood gets a bit hammy as King John. Mind you, considering the stilted period dialogue he's given, this is not surprising. It all looks great too, with nice location work, decent sets and costumes, and it also has a good incidental score from Jonathon Gibbs. But 'The King's Demons' remains both deeply flawed and inconsequential, and is a very lacklustre ending to the generally rather strong Season Twenty.

After Revelation of the Daleks, the Two Doctors has to be my favourite DW story at that time and for pretty much the same reasons - lots of continuity references, old monsters and a quite unprecedented level of violence. However, there are many who dislike this story for precisely the same reasons, but I'll just give my viewpoints here.

Firstly, there is the heavy level of mythology in the story. What is wrong with this, in a twenty year old show? A story is only as good as its past and why should such a varied past be ignored? To spare confusion among present day fans? Please! And the humour here is also good, Doctor Who should always have humour somewhere in it and I don't think it was overplayed here. It nicely offset the other controversial aspect of the story, the violence!

This was so cool. I was a growing teenager at this time and DW seemed to be growing up right there with me. Tame stories like the Underworld or the Androids of Tara seemed half a lifetime away - come to think of it, it was. I loved seeing Stike's leg congealed in green blood, or Shockeye stalking a rat; they added wonderful menace and tension to the plot - the violence and the humour seemed to wonderfully dovetail each other out. In the middle of the Second Doctor/Shockeye in the restaurant scene, Oscar is brutally murdered for no good reason by Shockeye. Many people objected to this as too violent, fine. BUT, in a wonderful piece of poetic justice, Shockeye is himself killed by Oscar's cyanide kit, bringing the whole thing full circle. And people objected to Shockeye being killed as well! Okay, it was the Sixth Doctor wielding the cyanide,but he was in a life and death situation and didn't have any other means at his disposal.

The Sontarans were also excellent here - I love old monsters coming back and they hadn't been in a DW story for yonks, and that was the Invasion of Time. Enough said. more than time for their return, which was handled very nicely.

The only slightly peculiar thing about this epic tale is that the two Doctors should meet in the first place - in The Three Doctors and The Five Doctors this crossing their timestreams happened by direct intervention, but here it seems to be more or less by accident. Still, a minor quibble in an otherwise excellent fable. Loved Chessene and Dastari, loved the simplistic plot - but then, I love simplistic plots!

Very few Doctor Who stories get as bad a reputation as "Paradise Towers". There are quite a few reasons for the insults given to the story. Keff McCulloch's music is abysmal, for one thing, never being as dark and eerie as it should be for a story as dark as this one. The production is given a comical nature, rather than a dark, stylish production similar to that of Season 26. Then there's the fact that Bonnie Langford gives her second-worst performance as the irritating Mel Bush (her worst being in Time and the Rani). All these things, plus directions and casting going against the writer's intentions, lead to dragging this story down. Yet, underneath this garbled mess of a pantomime, is a story that is still watchable and, to me, enjoyable.

Stephen Wyatt had written a very dark and disturbing story. The Paradise Towers are full of cannibalistic old ladies, fascist caretakers, murdering cleaner robots, and a decaying environment. The setting and the situations of Paradise Towers makes one think of "Vengeance on Varos", which was often criticized for the violence, black humor and cannibalism within. Yet, "Paradise Towers" is filled with just as many horrifying, grotesque ideas as the aforementioned "Vengeance on Varos". If Nicholas Mallett hadn't treated this story like a silly comic book, and if Mark Ayres or Dominic Glynn had composed the music, this tale would be remebered with a far greater fondness from fans. Instead, it's treated as one of the worst stories of any era of Doctor Who.

Another reason that Wyatt's first story wasn't remembered as fondly as his later story is the acting. "Paradise Towers" boasts a great deal of characters, many of whom are acting terribly. Richard Briers' moustache and voice are almost as irritating as Mel's screaming and cheery optimism. Howard Cooke seems rather silly in his part, as it was designed for someone of a great build.The Kangs are a tad annoying, but their degradation of language and acting from the people who played Fire Escape and Bin Liner more than make up for the terrible hairdos and costumes. The Rezzies are quite creepy as intended, and come off all right. Sylvester McCoy, the most important one of the bunch, is far better here than in his previous story, and performs with much more confidence.

So, overall, despite some bad casting and the barely adequate production values (those Cleaners are rather silly), Paradise Towers is a story that I still enjoy. For me, it's actually the best one of Season 24. If you want a 1980's story from before Season 25 with a dark story and no continuity mentions, then this is the obne you should watch. Just fast forward through all the bits with Howard Cooke and Bonnie Langford, and you're all set.

survival, despite being over-shadowed by some of its season 26 neighbours, is remarkable in many ways. Rona Munro's story is a complex tale, unusual in its tone, and full of unexpected juxtapositions. We see a grandiose, debonair Master plotting first in a dark, fur-lined hut and later in a grotty, mundane high rise flat - his civilised (albeit evil) nature disintegrating in the face of chaos; Perivale, oddly disconcerting in its somnambulant suburban dullness, and the hot, dusty planet of the Cheetah People.

Perhaps the most refreshing contrast, in a story exploring diverse themes and deepening the characterisation of the regulars, is the streak of humour in the script and performances. Although predominately in episode one, the light, naturalistic touch of the comedy resonates through the story, giving a realistic sheen to the tragedy and drama. The Doctor's cat-baiting, while flatly ignoring Ace, is wonderful, as is his shooing off of the lady whose garden he uses as a hiding place; and Hale and Pace, in retrospect, are suitably funny in the context.

Humour aside, Survival is a powerful story about, appropriately, surviving, and surviving in such a way that you don't harm others, or yourself, by losing your humanity. Even the Hale and Pace sequence, with the joke about the two friends and the lion, highlights the dilemma - can the animal instinct within us sit comfortably alongside our human urge (our human need) to help others, to stick by our friends? It could be viewed as a critique of Thatcher's Britain, Midge in episode three, a caricature of the 'successful' individual; the fittest has survived. But it doesn't require a socio-political reading - Survival is effective, thematically, on a more universal level, and the themes serve to make Ace an even more nuanced character than she already, at this point, is.

Just as in Remembrance of the Daleks, Ghostlight, and The Curse of Fenric, the Ace we meet is an immensely strong-willed individual - a survivor. It is inevitable that she (the companion who has always wanted to be 'free' in many senses) falls in love with the experience of running wild. But the presence of the Doctor controls her, keeping her selfish will to survive in check. A classic moment in Survival, easily missed, is the a split-second look on Ace's face - when the Doctor retrieves his hat - that speaks multitudes about the faith Ace has in the Doctor, no matter what happens. And in return, the Doctor has immense faith in her - her wild, aggressiveness will always be there, but while travelling in the TARDIS she is part of a team.

It doesn’t all work. The bike-duel; the scene where Karra and Ace run, in slow motion, across the open plain; and the cats – furry soft-toys or peculiar mechanical moggies – that were never going to convince. But the cast take it in their stride, each character believable and interesting. There are only very, very rare instances of truly bad acting – and the excellent final confrontation, with McCoy screaming out the pained, anguished cry of a century-weary Time Lord, isn’t one of them. Even Anthony Ainley brings a measured reverence to the Master in this atypical appearance. There is no hint of world-domination or crude, hammy megalomania here, it is purely a portrayal of the man, the Doctor’s enemy, who wants to survive.

Survival has both style and substance. It is thematically rich, but comes together, as a cogent, three-part serial, because it has eerie atmosphere, oddly believable. The decision to put the Cheetah People on horse-back; the care taken to make the planet look truly alien; the music – all things that mark Survival out as something worth watching, and something you wouldn’t worry about showing to your friends. And now we know Doctor Who is coming back, the final voice-over is all the more poignant.