After the Dalek-free 'The Myth Makers', the following story delivers on the promise of 'Mission to the Unknown', and does it with considerable success. 'The Daleks' Master Plan' is the series first and arguably greatest, true epic, mixing space opera with political intrigue, betrayal and even humour. Key to the success of the story is the Daleks themselves. 

If 'The Chase' showed the Daleks taking another technological step forward, but undermined this achievement by making them creatures of ridicule, then 'The Daleks' Master Plan' redresses the balance; the Daleks here are not stupid, or silly, they are a palpable threat to the entire galaxy. In 'The Chase', the Daleks made the leap to time travel, whereas here they go beyond that. Not only do they again time travel and pursue the TARDIS, but also they have built their ultimate weapon, the Time Destructor. The implication is obvious – the Daleks can conquer anything. We are constantly reminded throughout the story of just how dangerous the Daleks are, whether it is the Doctor asserting that with the Time Destructor they can conquer the entire universe, or Bret Vyon grimly making clear that the solar system is finished if they cannot stop the invasion force on Kembel. This is the first time that the Daleks feel like a threat on a galactic scale. Part of their menace lies not in their attitude towards their enemies however, but also their attitude towards their allies. The Daleks are more cunning and manipulative here than ever before; with the benefit of pre-knowledge, the viewer can easily guess that the Daleks will betray the representatives from the outer galaxies, but the shocked silence when Zephon and later Trantis are exterminated demonstrates that the Alliance members did not fully understand what they were letting themselves in for in their greed for power. Mavic Chen also serves to remind us of the true nature of the Daleks; when he discovers that the Doctor and Steven have been accidentally transmitted to Mira with the Taranium core, he is clearly on the verge of panic, knowing how they reward failure. Even before this, his conversations with Karlton let us know that he realises the danger of the game he is playing and that he does not underestimate the Daleks. Tellingly, it is only when he descends into madness in the final episodes that he loses his fear of the Daleks, which quickly results in his death. Far more convincingly than 'The Chase', 'The Daleks' Master Plan' makes it clear that there is no escape from the Daleks. When the Doctor and his friends flee Kembel in Chen's Spar, the Daleks force them to crash on Desperus from afar and send pursuit ships after them; when they escape to Earth, Chen and his co-conspirators are waiting for them; on Mira, the Daleks soon catch up with them, and when they flee in the Dalek ship the Daleks on Kembel ensnare them first by remote control of the vessel and then in a magnetic beam. Even when they escape in the TARDIS, the Daleks can follow them through time, and it is only by returning to Kembel and confronting the Daleks that the Doctor and Steven can be free of them. Even when the Daleks are defeated, the cost is high, for at various points during the Doctor's struggle to defeat them, Katarina, Bret Vyon and Sara Kingdom all pay the ultimate price. 

The length of 'The Daleks' Master Plan' is in some ways instrumental in its success. Wisely, having effectively had a build-up in the form of 'Mission to the Unknown', the story starts with incredible intensity from 'The Nightmare Begins'. During this episode, the TARDIS arrives on Kembel with the Doctor already under stress due his need to find help for Steven, who was wounded at the end of 'The Myth Makers'. Within the episode, Steven is recovered, but he, the Doctor and Katarina are separated from the TARDIS on a hostile planet infested with Daleks. Bret Vyon, whose partner has just been exterminated and who is equally stranded, joins them. Soon, they are driven out of the jungle by a fire started by the Daleks for that very purpose, the Doctor is forced into a desperate gambit to find out what the Daleks plans are and how to stop them, and this results in a relentless chase through space, as they struggle to stay alive and find a way to stop the Daleks for good. The first six episodes of 'The Daleks' Master Plan' are some of the most fraught and thrilling episodes in Doctor Who up to this point, with the Doctor under threat from the pursuing Daleks, the criminals of Desperus, Chen and his allies on Earth, and the vicious invisible Visians. Inevitably, the death of new companion Katarina in 'The Traitors' only adds to the oppressive, doom-laden feel, as indeed does the death of new friend Bret Vyon. In addition, the TARDIS remains on Kembel whilst the Doctor is in space or on other planets. Whilst he has frequently been separated from the TARDIS during the series up to this point, he has never been so isolated from his beloved ship. In '100,000 BC', 'Marco Polo', 'The Sensorites' and 'The Dalek Invasion of Earth', he was close to the TARDIS but prevented from getting in; in 'The Mutants' and 'The Web Planet', and 'The Space Museum', he had access to the TARDIS, but circumstances prevented his escape. Here, he is completely cut off from the TARDIS for the first half of the story, and this greatly emphasizes the feeling of danger for the Doctor. Wisely, after six episodes of unrelenting tension, there is a change of tone, with the out and out comedy of the much-maligned 'The Feast of Steven'. This doesn't work quite as well on audio as it probably did when first broadcast, but is nevertheless a welcome light-hearted interlude, and allows the viewer to get to know Katarina's successor Sara Kingdom without the threat of the Daleks immediately looming. The return of the Daleks in 'Volcano' reintroduces the main plot, but the tone remains lighter thanks to the welcome return of the Meddling Monk, out looking for revenge. The comic relief he provides allows episodes eight to ten to be lighter in tone that the first six episodes, without making the Daleks seem silly, as they did in 'The Chase'. Finally however, all distractions are dismissed once more, as the action returns to Kembel for 'The Abandoned Planet' and 'The Destruction of Time'. Once more, the tension of the first six episodes returns, as the Daleks' plans near completion. The revelation that the Daleks have secretly constructed an underground city without the knowledge of the Grand Alliance members again reminds us of the extent of their preparation. Ironically, it is perhaps this discovery that finally tips Chen over the edge; his megalomania is at its peak when he believes that he has been made leader of the council in episode eleven, and the resulting crushing humiliation when he discovers that the Daleks have locked him in the council chamber with the others undoubtedly takes its toll on his questionable sanity, but it is not until he discovers the hidden city and thus realises that the Daleks have been using him all along that he finally snaps, believing that the Daleks will obey him and seemingly oblivious to his own mortality. And it is also this which allows the Daleks to be finally defeated, since the distraction provided by Chen gives the Doctor his chance to seize the Time Destructor and activate it. The sound of the activated weapon provides an ominous backdrop to the final scenes, as the Doctor and his companions struggle to reach the TARDIS, with Sara aging to death in the attempt. After the epic scale of the story as a whole, the climax does not fail to disappoint, as the Daleks succumb to the effects of their own weapon and are destroyed, along with the hostile jungles of Kembel. 

The Daleks are not the only success of 'The Daleks' Master Plan'; Mavic Chen is arguably one of the best villains of the era. Part of his success is due to the fact that he is not just a stock megalomaniac; he wants power yes, but he also has flaws and fears. As noted above, he is terrified when he realises that the fugitives and the Taranium have escaped him on Earth, and it is Karlton who shows him how to turn the situation to his advantage. In addition, whilst he is clearly after power, he wants it on his terms; he doesn't want the Daleks to conquer the galaxy, he wants to use the Time Destructor so that he can conquer the galaxy. Kevin Stoney is superb in the role and gives Chen a commanding presence throughout. This presence is enhanced by Chen's appearance in the two surviving episodes, since he is portrayed as a strange mixture of ethnic groups, which distinguishes him from the other human characters we see in the story. Interestingly, whilst he is an impressive and commanding villain, he is perhaps not the mastermind that he thinks he is; there are hints in episodes four and five that Karlton is in some ways the power behind the throne, though Chen does not realize it, and when confronted by the Dalek Supreme on at least two occasions, he loses his calm and starts shouting in near-panic. And of course, ultimately, when he realises that he has been out-maneuvered by the Daleks all-along, his descent into madness and death is swift. Compare this with, for example, Tegana, who remained stoic and focused throughout 'Marco Polo', even when his plans went wrong, and who ultimately faced death with dignity. For all that I like Tegana, the flawed Chen is the more interesting character. Of course, characterisation is nothing if the acting is not up to scratch, and Stoney is one of the great successes of 'The Daleks' Master Plan'. 

I've noted previously that watching the series in order has given me a perspective on stories that I haven't quite had before, and just as I wished that I didn't have foreknowledge about the episode three cliff-hanger to 'The Time Meddler', whilst watching 'The Daleks' Master Plan' I wished that I hadn't known that the Monk would turn up in 'Volcano'. I think he's a great character, and Peter Butterworth reprises his role to great effect here. The fact that the Monk's creator Dennis Spooner had pretty much taken over the writing chores from Terry Nation by this point undoubtedly enhances the success of his return, as the Monk becomes the first individual (as opposed to the Daleks) recurring Doctor Who villain. The Monk's air of childish glee on Tigus immediately recaptures the spirit of 'The Time Meddler', but what seems initially like it is going to be a reprise of the battle of wits between the Monk and the Doctor becomes something else due to the intervention of the Daleks. The Monk's reaction to the Daleks is priceless, and his constant attempted small shifts of allegiance from the Daleks and Chen to the Doctor to Steven and Sara as he tries to stay alive and make good his escape in light of unexpected complications makes the episodes in which he appears hugely entertaining. After the various time travelers finally leave ancient Egypt, Steven announces that he hopes the Monk escapes the Daleks and will be all right, and this pretty much sums up the viewer's attitude too. Even the Doctor seems to have a soft spot for him and it is a shame that Butterworth never reprised his role again. 

The regulars are at their best in 'The Daleks' Master Plan', with Hartnell on particularly fine form. The Doctor is particularly superb when he confronts the Daleks in episode twelve, holding the Time Destructor and clearly determined to end their threat, whatever the cost to himself, but he has many other wonderful moments. He is his usual cantankerous self on several occasions, especially when dealing with Bret, whose first concern is the safety of Earth rather than the safety of the Doctor's companions. He shows icy contempt when dealing with Chen, and exasperation when dealing with the Monk. Whatever the Doctor's mood, Hartnell never falters. He again gets to do comedy during 'The Feast of Steven' and when dealing with the Monk, but also excels at pathos after first Katarina and then Sara dies. And he gets one of my favourite first Doctor lines when he tells the police inspector, "I am a citizen of the universe, and a gentleman to boot!" Peter Purves again excels, proving that Steven really is one of the most underrated Doctor Who companions. One of the things that I like about Steven is that his character develops believably as his time with the Doctor continues. In 'The Chase', despite his long imprisonment by the Mechanoids, he is a fairly happy go lucky character and this attitude continues during 'The Time Meddler'. During 'Galaxy Four', he seems more jaded, as he is confronted with Maaga's callousness. After his wounding in 'The Myth Makers', he becomes attached to Katarina, who tends him whilst he is sick, and her death I think brings home to him the dangers of traveling with the Doctor, which Bret's and Sara's deaths only emphasize. My impression of Steven is that he looks for the good in people and forms friendships quickly and easily. Whereas the Doctor can look at the bigger picture, Steven is more affected by individual death, and by the end of 'The Daleks' Master Plan' he is, quite understandably, much more serious and less happy-go-lucky than he was in 'The Chase'. Katarina, only recently introduced, is killed off here, which doesn't allow for much character-development. This is a shame, since her wonder at the TARDIS and everything else she sees is rather endearing and is a refreshing contrast with the more assured Vicki. I can see why keeping Katarina on as a regular companion would have been difficult for the writers, but it would have been nice to see her last a bit longer. Her struggle to understand what is going on around her seems to bring out the Doctor's gentler side, and her death, whilst premature, is at least well handled, as she sacrifices herself to save her friends and let them help the people of Earth. Sara Kingdom is a very different character entirely, and is far more aggressive and capable than any other female companion seen thus far in Doctor Who. It is interesting that almost the first thing she does is kill her brother whilst obeying orders, which is not a common way for a companion to join the Doctor. After she realises her mistake and joins the Doctor and Steven, she quickly comes to respect the Doctor and shifts her loyalty from the treacherous Chen to the old man. For the rest of the story, she seethes with the desire to see Chen suffer for his betrayal of Earth and to see the Daleks defeated, and it is this commitment that results in her death, as she leaves Steven to return to the TARDIS and turns back to help the Doctor with the Time Destructor, despite his instructions for her to get to safety. This summarizes her relationship with him perfectly; she likes and respects him, but will let nothing and nobody stand in the way of justice. It is important to note that she is motivated by justice and not revenge, since she gets the opportunity to kill Chen in episode eleven, but allows him to leave on the condition that he goes to warn Earth of the Daleks' invasion plans. Whilst her shooting down of her brother without question is disturbing, it arises from loyalty to what she believes is right, rather than her being a gun-toting psychopath. 'The Feast of Steven', as well as being light relief from the main story, allows us to see Sara in a more humorous context, as she deals with the policemen and then various Hollywood production crewmembers. In these circumstances, she is as much out of her depth as Katarina was up until her death, and she reacts with bafflement, but not anger. Later, as the TARDIS makes numerous brief stops whilst being chased by the Monk, she almost gets caught up in the wonder of seeing new times and places, before the shadow of the Daleks falls once more. The final scene of 'The Feast of Steven' in the TARDIS, as the Doctor serves wine and toasts the viewer is often criticized for breaking the fourth wall, but it offers us the only real chance we get to see this short lived TARDIS crew relaxing and enjoying a brief respite from danger. 

There are many other things that make 'The Daleks' Master Plan' a classic. Based on surviving photographs and the two surviving episodes, Douglas Camfield's direction, and also the set-design and costumes are all first class. Mira is a far more convincing jungle set than Mechanus was, and the Egyptian sets are easily a match for those of any of the pure historicals. The future society from which Chen, Sara and Bret hail is well realized, thanks in part to the sets, which could so easily have been generic minimalist corridors of the future. Another strength of the story is the subtle use of minor characters to convey information, for example Lizan and Roald, who introduce us to the concept of the Guardian of the Solar System. Another good example is the cricket commentators; rather than seeing the next TARDIS landing in a chain of several from the Doctor, Steven and Sara's point of view, we get to see their brief landing from the perspective of, in effect, casual bystanders. This is a novel idea and one that has not been used before in the series. Every minor character shines, from the brutal inmates of Desperus to the ancient Egyptians who refuse to be cowed by the threat of the Daleks and are determined to guard their Pharaoh's tomb regardless of the obvious danger. Overall, 'The Daleks' Master Plan' is one of the greatest Doctor Who stories of the era, and one of the best Dalek stories ever. Whilst the missing ten episodes are a great loss, we can at least be grateful for the fact that it works surprisingly well on audio.

It's said every fan can remember when they first found out huge chunks of Doctor Who didn't exist any more. Personally, I can't. But I can remember one precise moment when this came home brutally. I was hungrily lapping up the reviews in The Discontinuity Guide when I came across the exultant review for 'The Massacre'.

Considering we're talking about four episodes of an old TV show, I don't think I've ever been as frustrated, angry and upset as that by the myriad injustices ranged at me through various hobbies [Fulham's continuing inability to play football; Marvel nixing plans to continue Transformers after the US material ran out; Todd McFarlane stopping Miracleman; Luca Badoer's gearbox at the Nurburgring]. This thing sounded like an absolute masterpiece. And I was never going to see it.

I've still never really seen it, but thanks to the Loose Cannon recon, I've come as close as anyone has since it was last transmitted.

Before getting this tape, I had to temper my excitement to avoid disappointment. Historicals have never really been my favourite of 'Who's many little sub-genres. 'The Aztecs' and 'The Gunfighters' are both well-produced, well-made, slick, and don't drag too much, but there's just something inherently mediocre about them. 'The Romans' had proved an exception to the rule, mainly through a hilarious Dennis Spooner script and some superb comic playing. Most of the historic novelisations I'd read had verged on ordeals [the exception being Donald Cotton's brace]. And 'The Massacre' was likely to be like 'The Aztecs', a po-faced 'straight' script populated by theatricality. Add into this that the Doctor only really appears to book-end the story, and I'd talked myself out of expecting a classic.

And 'The Massacre' is deadly serious. But it's drama of the best kind. Utter conviction permeates the whole thing. Even as a reconstruction, the doom-laden atmosphere is phenomenal. To be frank, I count my previous ignorance of the historical events in the story as a plus. I did pick up on the inevitability of the events, feeling the downwards spiral in a way I only have watching 'Caves of Androzani' and the final episode of Blake's 7. There's a touch of the Gwyneth Paltrows to Nicholas Muss [to explain, this comes from the actress' character in David Fincher's Seven, where she's so nice compared to what surrounds her you know she's not going to make it] which signposts his tragic fate early on, but this doesn't damage the inexorable machinations. Just as in 'Androzani' or 'Blake', you find yourself hoping against hope that something's going to change the end result, while knowing that it won't.

One thing that is very interesting is Hartnell's double role as both the Doctor and the Abbott of Amboise. While he doesn't perform totally differently as some sources have it, this actually works as a strength. While he tones down the first Doctor's distinctive mannerisms such as the 'hmms', and gets his lines right, there are a few moments when the Abbott seems to be making it up on the spot, and his blundering could be the Doctor hindering injustice. These, allayed with Steven's confusion, keep the viewer guessing that vital bit longer. Along with the first regeneration, the Abbott's death is a moment I'd have loved to have seen as it was broadcast. Still, knowing that Hartnell would last another six stories doesn't diminish the effect, as Steven's reaction is enough to keep anyone watching interested.

Steven is really the star of this story, and Peter Purves rises to the occasion marvellously. It's difficult to judge Steven considering so few episodes of his survive, but it's fair, I think, to generally cast him as a solid but unspectacular standard male companion, largely a knock-off of Ian in the early days before he got used to it all. However, given a meaty script Purves really delivers - the viewer can empathise fully as he seems abandoned by the Doctor, then feel his frustration and desperation as the Abbott's freak similarity to the Doctor ostracizes him from Nicholas, seemingly his only friend.

Especially worthy of praise is Steven's rage at the Doctor inside the TARDIS, and the Doctor's melancholy soliliquoy after Steven storms out. This is the first time since the early days of Season 1 that he's really been held to account by one of his companions, a theme that would be revisited many times, most notably with Tegan's departure in 'Resurrection of the Daleks', as well as many a New Adventure. Somehow, though, it's all the more powerful when aimed at this frail old man who just wanders through time, doing his best to help where he can. It was clearly not a callous decision on his part to leave Anne, and he seems tired of the responsibilities his lifestyle has brought with it.

The guest cast is one of the best assembled in the series' history. David Weston is wonderful as Nicholas Muss, instinctively wanting to trust Steven, but paranoid due to the heightened political atmosphere, and pressured by Gaston. Gaston himself is wonderfully blustering and belligerent, with Eric Thompson lending a marvellous intensity to the role. Leonard Sachs lends the role of the 'Sea Beggar' Admiral de Coligny huge dignity and gravitas, making him truly sympathetic, willing to ignore his pride for the Dutch Huguenots. While the bizarre choice of accent as serving girl Anne Chaplette is a distraction early on, you soon get caught up in a strong performance from the young actress, who again gets across the urgency and foreboding of the script. Erik Chitty gives a sweet little performance as Charles Preslin, with the scene where the Doctor tells him he was right all along, is a little ray of hope amongst the gloom. Andre Morell is astonishingly callous as Marshall Tavannes, plotting away with ruthless precision, but the show is stolen by Joan Young as Catherine de Medici, the vindictive Queen Mother. While it was doubtless lent to me by the reconstruction's use of still images, I like to think that Young was largely stationary when delivering her lines in that breathtakingly stoic, detached fashion, which lends a huge edge to the horrors she is perpetrating. The best thing about 'The Massacre' is everyone plays it seriously, and nobody thinks they're Laurence Olivier [I'm looking at you, John Ringham!].

The one thing I wasn't taken with was the arrival of Dodo. While the scene itself is a good idea, snapping the Doctor out of his misery and providing a [rather contrived] happy ending, the playing of it is dreadful. Dodo just blunders in and decides she's alright with flying off with two strange men in a police box - which is just as well, as the Doctor's whisked her off anyway. On top of this, I was downright horrified by Jackie Lane's performance, considering she's not too bad in 'The Gunfighters' or 'The War Machines'. Perhaps inspired by the Carole Ann Ford similarity, Lane acts like an attention-seeking 10-year old in a school play. And if that's her genuine accent, the poor woman has my sympathy. Still, it's a coda, and it doesn't effect my enjoyment of the story any more than Nyssa's silly fall spoils 'Four to Doomsday' or the trailer for 'Boom Town' scuppers 'The Doctor Dances'.

The script is marvellous [have you noticed how many Doctor Who scripts that have some production strife or other are really great? 'City of Death', 'Horror of Fang Rock', 'Pyramids of Mars' etc.], full of scenes that range from the uplifting to the chilling, weighed towards the latter. The attemted assassination of de Coligny is a wonderful tense scene as Steven and Nicholas attempt to intervene, while the realisation of the massacre itself is worthy of the highest praise. It's more powerful than if we saw de Coligny, Nicholas et al killed off one by one as the true scale of the atrocity can be seen and felt, capturing a sense of these fully rounded characters just being a few amongst so many deaths.

Loose Cannon's reconstruction work is simply marvellous considering the scant material available. Only a few composites can be told from the genuine stills, and they must be thanked for bringing this masterpiece to us.

And a masterpiece it is. When you consider as a reconstruction it tallies with the Discontinuity Guide's verdict of "Not only the best historical, but the best Hartnell, and... arguably the best Doctor Who story ever", if the actual episodes ever turn up, it would be considered Doctor Who of the very highest quality.

The first time I ever heard 'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve' was when the CD was released; I'd previously obtained bootleg low-quality copies of many of the missing stories, but this wasn't one of them. I'd also never read the script, or a detailed synopsis, so my only knowledge of this story came from John Lucarotti's novelisation. Now I'm quite fond of this particular novelisation, but it differs significantly from the television serial on which it is based, with a far more active role for the Doctor, including him impersonating and eventually meeting the Abbot of Amboise, and saving de Coligny's life. Knowing that the soundtrack would be different but not sure in what ways, I was fairly dubious when I first listened to it. I need not have worried though; 'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve' is an astonishingly good story. 

'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve' is a return to the more serious type of historical story, after the outright comedy of its historical predecessor, 'The Myth Makers'; given the traumatic ending of 'The Daleks' Master Plan', this is entirely appropriate, as the Doctor and Steven are in sombre mood. In fact, it is probably the bleakest historical, with only 'The Aztecs' to rival it. From the moment Steven finds himself alone in a bar in sixteenth century Paris, a feeling of tension and doom slowly permeates the story and builds inexorably towards the climax. The tension between the Huguenots and the Catholics, and the persecution of the former, is subtly introduced at first, with Gaston's surly manner revealed to be a directed specifically at his Huguenot customers, rather than at that his clientele in general. Likewise, Nicholas and his friends mock the Catholics, and it is immediately obvious that this mockery is barbed; the underlying tension is palpable and deep-seated. This sets the scene very effectively, as does Charles Preslin's obvious paranoia on learning that the Doctor has been searching for him. From this point on, the antagonism between the Catholics and Huguenots grows, with Anne Chaplet's terror on hearing talk of Vasey (sp?) immediately alerting the viewer that what is to follow is going to be unpleasant. This is basically the crux of the plot, as the story races towards the massacre itself, but what really makes 'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve' stand out is the exact way in which the story unfolds. For me, three factors are really vital to the success of this story: the political machinations of the royal court, the Abbot of Amboise subplot, and Steven. 

The scenes in the royal court of Charles IX drive the actual massacre plot, as Tavannes, de Coligny, the King, and Catherine de Medici, discuss the state of France and what is to be done about it. On the one hand, we have de Coligny, a Huguenot, striving for peace and looking to the marriage of Henry of Navarre to a member of the Catholic royal family to cement this peace. De Coligny has the friendship of the King, and his voice carries some weight with him. On the other hand, we have Marshal Tavannes, who secretly despises the Huguenots but who is not so unwise as to actual say as much in the presence of the King. During 'The Sea Beggar', we see these two carefully trying to win over the King, de Coligny for the cause of peace, and Tavannes out of a desire to prevent the Huguenots gaining power and status equal to that of the Catholics. The King is portrayed as indecisive and reluctant to actual deal with the issues raised, but his friendship with de Coligny initially suggests that he will be able to avert the coming atrocity. Such hopes are swiftly dashed however, as it becomes clear to the viewer that Tavannes is planning to have de Coligny assassinated. The assassin is ultimately unsuccessful, but as a result the furious Tavannes has his accomplice the Abbot killed, which he blames on the Huguenots, thus catalyzing the start of the massacre. However, it is Catherine de Medici who actually orders Tavannes to raise a mob against the Catholics, in one of the most chilling scenes in Doctor Who to date, with even the Marshal shocked at her ruthlessness; as he notes, if a mob is raised "innocents" (meaning Catholics) will suffer as well as the Huguenots, but her desire to see the Huguenots butchered is so great that she dismisses his concern. So venomous is Catherine de Medici in this scene that Tavannes seems briefly sympathetic by comparison, until the viewer is reminded that his concern is for the Catholics alone and that his insistence on sparing the Huguenot Prince Henry of Navarre is motivated purely by politics. This scene and the rest of the build-up to the slaughter in 'Bell of Doom' is one of the most shocking portrayals of casual evil in Doctor Who, and is all the more potent because it comes not from some raving megalomaniac or all-conquering alien race, but from a group of people motivated by religious differences. Simon Duvall's gleeful anticipation at the coming carnage and his disappointment when he discovers that Tavannes has other plans for him is sickening. 

The Abbot of Amboise subplot is well handled and allows Hartnell to show off his acting skills by playing a different role. It has been noted that his performance is so precise and impressive that it suggests that Hartnell's flustered delivery of many of the Doctor's lines is characterisation, and although I'm not sure that this is true in the case of some of his more blatant fluffs, it is certainly a convincing theory (although he could just be concentrating harder than usual because he's playing a different character). Whilst I generally frown on doppelganger plots in fiction, since they are basically plot contrivances, the Abbot's resemblance to the Doctor works well here, and not just because it makes life awkward for Steven. It is commonly known now that the Abbot and the Doctor are separate characters, but at the time of first broadcast, this was presumably not the case, and the Abbot is played such that the viewer must suspect without foreknowledge that he is indeed the Doctor. The Huguenot's suspicion of him causes them to turn against Steven when he mistakenly tries to explain that he knows the Abbot, but aside from this we are given no clue that he his who Nicholas and his friends believe him to be. When he schemes with Tavannes, who clearly has little patience for him, it is unclear whether he is a genuine co-conspirator out to destroy the Huguenots, or whether he is the Doctor in disguise, bluffing in order to gain some kind of advantage. It is only when the Abbot's corpse is found by Steven that it becomes obvious that he is not the Doctor, since killing the Doctor off in such a way would be an unlikely end to a popular children's television series. Which brings us to Steven.

I've stated previously that I think Steven is hugely underrated, and 'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve' demonstrates perfectly why. With the Doctor sidelined and Steven the sole companion at this time, he gets to take centre stage. As in 'The Daleks' Master Plan', he demonstrates his easy-going nature and talent for befriending people, but also gets far more to do. When Nicholas comes to believe that he is a spy, he determines to clear his name and prove that the Abbot is really the Doctor, and throws himself into the events around him, acting as mentor to Anne, of whom he quickly becomes protective, and trying to warn the Huguenots of de Coligny's impending assassination. Rather than simply deciding to return to the TARDIS and wait for the Doctor, or remain at the pub where they arranged to meet, he becomes involved and finds himself struggling to defend himself in a brief sword-fight and being chased by a lynch mob as a result. He is more than capable of carrying the story alone, which is testament to both the character and also to Peter Purves' acting skills. It is in 'Bell of Doom' however that he really shines, as the Doctor returns, realises what is about to happen to Paris, and drags Steven protesting back to the TARDIS, leaving Anne behind. This is the first historical story to feature Steven in which the issue of not interfering in history really arises. Although he witnessed the Doctor's determination to stop the Monk's interference in 'The Time Meddler', it is only now that the reality of this strikes home, and it is not an easy lesson; unable to help Anne Chaplet and his Huguenot friends, an impassioned Steven angrily takes his leave of the Doctor, furious at his unwillingness to intervene and try and make a difference. It is worth noting again how much he has changed since 'The Chase', his happy-go-lucky attitude knocked out of him by recent events; the implication is that the death of more friends after the traumatic events of 'The Daleks' Master Plan' is too much for him. Ultimately however, his departure is brief, with the arrival of Dodo returning him to the TARDIS, and the implication that she is a descendent of Anne, who therefore must have survived, perhaps allowing him to see history's bigger picture in the way that the Doctor does. 

None of the good aspects of 'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve' would be anywhere near as effective if the acting were poor, and in fact it is exceptional. In addition to Hartnell in both roles, and Purves, Leonard Sachs' dignified Admiral de Coligny, Andre Morell (my favourite Quatermass) as the scheming Marshal Tavannes, and Joan Young's chilling performance as Catherine de Medici, all steal the show. No discussion of 'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve' would be complete either without mentioning the Doctor's superb soliloquy at the end of 'Bell of Doom', as Steven leaves him. It is in sharp contrast to his almost callous attitude earlier in the episode when he realises that he and Steven need to leave Paris; his advice to the terrified Anne on how to find safety is clearly an afterthought. My only real criticism is the final scene, which I mentioned above. Whilst Dodo's introduction serves to lighten the mood and reassure Steven that Anne survived, it is horribly contrived that one of Anne's descendents should literally stumble into the TARDIS on its next landing. Nevertheless, this is a trivial issue, and overall 'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve' stands as one of the finest stories of the era.

Season 3 is a bit of a shambles really, but then going as it did through three producers that’s only to be expected. Consequently much of the stories are sub-par, although it does contain its share of greats. The Ark, however, is one of the only complete stories that survive this fragmented period. People criticise this and justly, although calling it too much like Star Trek is a bit unfair seeing as it predates that show (although an anagram of its name is “ah, Trek”), but when you consider what it lost it does give rise to the whole What Were They Thinking question. That said, it’s by no means a lazy episode and gets full marks for effort.

The Ark has a big advantage of having Barry Newbery as a designer and he delivers some outstanding sets and special effects, creating an extremely impressive looking episode. The jungle set is outstanding, looking absolutely perfect (even though black and white does mask imperfections), and the inclusion of a live elephant is the icing on the cake. The story’s major icebergs though are the Monoids, probably the worst monsters of the decade; they could be reasonable (not great, but perhaps not so heavily criticised) were it not for comparatively minor details such as their hippy-wigs and the fact that the actors’ legs are held together so that they walk like they all have haemorrhoids. I noticed that there were no Monoids aboard Platform One, as The End Of The World takes place at exactly the same time as this; the production team of the new series have decided wisely which elements are best left in their own eras. 

The story still has an ace card, though, and that’s Tristram Cary’s superb score, which shows how good electronic music could be back in the 1960s. I know the score dates back to The Daleks, and was far more appropriate to the tone of that story, but even so I lap up every opportunity I can get to hear it.

The elephant, toucan, lizard…they’re all great; it’s only the Dodo that annoys. I’ll not mince words: Jackie Lane is absolutely pathetic, and she drags the episode to floor level from the moment she steps out of the TARDIS with her stage-sneezes and her cold symptoms that get switched off when they’re not needed by the story. In fact she’s so bad that even Peter Purves, normally very good, seems uncomfortable – when she trills “Earth? Earth?” at him in that annoying voice I just want to strangle her. She did improve slightly in her short period as a companion, but here she is abominable. Hartnell soon arrives though and he well and truly sorts them out, as good an actor in his third season as he ever was, despite his increasing sickness. The “indoor nature park” is so obvious and takes so long to set up that it really dates the story to a time when the audience was patronised by some writers (they still get patronised now if I’m honest, but not in the same way).

Is it me, or does that crewman who gets miniaturised seem like the Arnold Rimmer type? The special effect of his punishment is good if a little silly, and there are some more fantastic (and huge) sets on display. 

The writing in this episode is good, and the dialogue is never boring to listen to. Characterisation is a major problem though with people being portrayed in very obvious terms: so it is that Zentos and Controller play an exaggerated version of Good Cop Bad Cop when the regulars are brought to them. While as I said it’s worth watching to an extent, this story never rises above the level of Moral Lesson For The Kiddies territory. Dodo spells out the concept of Noah’s Ark when it would be better to let it speak for itself - however, while morals and supposed subtexts are a hallmark of John Wiles’s time as a producer, subtlety is not as far as it is possible to tell from his suddenly-curtailed tenure. This story, of the four he helmed the one where he had the most influence, seems typical of his attitude: while it attempts to be meaningful it displays its philosophies at surface level so that what was intended to be deep comes out extremely shallow. It is a shame, as the first episode is generally quite good concerning itself as it does with introductions.

The fever strikes very suddenly; it could have done with more of a set up. The scene where the Controller is struck down is also the first lapse in Jackie Lane’s accent; in a better character that might mean something to me. Zentos transforms into a word-twisting fool; it is a clichй, but he is appropriately dislikeable.

It is episode two where the flawed execution of this story starts to let it down. The excuse that data on the common cold was lost centuries previously is ironic in the light of the missing episodes problem; it’s a shame that there weren’t any missing episodes at this point as otherwise this would be the closest this comes to a subtext. 

Eric Elliot as the Commander is a real ham, sending his dying-man characterisation into orbit, and Steven’s moralising to Zentos (not the last time we’ll have morals given to us on a plate) annoys; the Controller is even used to provide a commentary about it. However, although I’m not sure it was intentional, the fact that Zentos only really starts to care when a human dies undermines the idea of racial utopia very effectively, foreshadowing future events.

Despite some good moments (such as the cliffhanger) Michael Imison’s direction is also lacking, and his penchant for setting up some kind of explanation (“now listen carefully…”) and then cutting does seem very corny and B-movie like, although the worst moment is not now but in the second half when the Monoids go into a huddle.

The destruction of Earth looks wonderful though, as this story boasts some brilliant special effects. It’s the cliffhanger that steals the show though, slow and sombre, making Cary’s music actually fit for once. The double-plot idea stretches credulity, as it is hard to believe that the TARDIS would spontaneously rematerialise at the exact end of the journey (although it’s no worse than the randomiser taking it to Skaro thirteen years later). While it doesn’t quite work its concept is very good and original though, making it even more of a shame that this story isn’t a success; it really could be.

The scanner effect is good, and I’ll contradict myself and say that there is some good direction that gradually reveals the reversal of fortunes between humans and Monoids. Their voices are slightly daft but nowhere near as bad as they are sometimes made out to be; the Monoids certainly sound better than they look.

The third episode of a story is notorious for being dull, but I’ve never had any real problems with them myself. That said, there is a gigantic exposition scene here that gets by only through assured dialogue. The pill being dropped into the water is another superb effect, although why it suddenly transforms into a bowl of peeled new potatoes is beyond me. The spacecraft effects are similarly good, this being an example of how the black and white years can surprise. I’m perfectly prepared to overlook the visible wires and the fact that the statue falls downwards at the end. Refusis II is a well-realised alien planet, not looking too much like a set. A Monoid trips over coming down some steps, but Cary’s score stretches out into its full majesty. The Refusians sound good and their invisibility is well done, although the explanation of a solar flare being responsible for their condition is stupid and lazy – and lazy is a criticism I’ve tried to avoid for this story. The cliffhanger is a bit strange, with Hartnell not making the prospect of being marooned seem very dramatic.

By episode four I’m getting tired of all this, and I’m even going to criticise the visuals by pointing out the painted backdrop in the Ark that can be seen waving about. The search for the bomb could be dramatic if its location hadn’t already been revealed to the audience, and similarly the Monoids wondering who is flying the shuttle is dwelled on pointlessly. There is lots of eavesdropping in this episode, which drives the plot. With every criticism, I lament the promising idea and introduction yet further.

The insurrection among the Monoids is well written but with such poor monsters it’s hard to care about them really. Their battle scenes are pathetic, as they hobble around with their fastened legs shining lights at each other; they’re so pathetic that I feel sorry for them when they die. Maharis is equally irritating, reminding me of Weyland Smithers. 

And so on, so forth – the bomb is found and explodes harmlessly (another decent effect), and the moral is finally and unsurprisingly hammered home. All that follows is a poorly-done lead-in to The Celestial Toymaker, with Dodo and Steven (in absurd costumes) taking ages to notice the Doctor is fading away. In fact, even the Doctor takes his time to realise it.

I feel bad for criticising this story; if it had a facial expression it would be looking at me with puppy-dog eyes, willing me to like it. Sadly, that’s just not going to happen as it is so unsophisticaley made when it should have been so much better. That said, it will always be remembered as a story that tries its very best. There are worse things to be remembered as.

Most of the Hartnell Doctor Who stories that I consider to be overlooked by fandom are either wholly or partial missing from the archives; the exception to this rule is 'The Ark'. Even with its recent video release, it is seldom talked about either fondly or with contempt, although exactly why this should be is not entirely clear. My best guess is that, quite simply, 'The Ark' is an oddity. 

The direction and design of 'The Ark' is exemplary. There are numerous shots that impress, including the take-off of the landers from the Ark, and most notably, the scenes of the invisible Refusian moving objects around, which are incredibly well done. The interior of the Ark is also very impressive, meshing futuristic sets and model work with ease. The giant statue is the best example of this, as the camera switches from shots of its feet to panning shots up the model. The jungle too is excellent, and made all the more convincing by the presence of real animals, especially the elephant. The castle on Refusis II is another effective use of model work, again meshing well with the countryside sets of the planet's surface. The only visual aspects of the production that has aged badly are the space shots, with wobbly landers on strings, an unconvincing nuclear explosion, and a truly dreadful shot of the Earth burning up. The Monoid costumes are another triumph, with the creatures numbering amongst the most convincing aliens of the era. This is largely due to their single eyes, which are achieved by the actors holding them in their mouths and moving them with their tongues. Compare this with the later appearance of Scaroth in 'City of Death', which is far less convincingly achieved. This, and their mop-top hair, makes their appearance much more memorable than generic reptilian alien. Sadly, the human Guardians fare less well, boasting the most absurd costumes of any humanoid characters in the series up until this point, including the Thals; they look very much like a kitsch sixties vision of the future, which I suppose they are, and have aged very, very badly. 

The plot of 'The Ark' is its greatest strength, due to the novelty structure it adopts, effectively being two two-part stories back to back. The first two episodes are basically the build-up, but form a tight drama in their own right; the concept of the Ark carrying the last survivors of humanity to an new world is a good one, and initially appears to be a typical science fiction portrayal of an advanced utopian future society. However, the cracks in the veneer are soon exposed, as Dodo's cold infects the Ark's inhabitants and threatens their future; paranoia and suspicion become rife, and the seemingly peaceful Guardians are soon out not for justice, but for retribution (they want the travelers banished from the Ark, but won't allow them to leave in the TARDIS; instead, they refuse to accept that Dodo brought her cold to the ship by accident and demand that they be ejected into space, and thus executed, as punishment for their crimes). But there are other, subtler, hints that this human society is less advanced than it seems. When Dodo's cold causes an outbreak, they suspect that the travelers are agents from Refusis, their chosen destination, trying to prevent their colonization of that planet; this immediately suggests that the Guardians are determined to colonize the planet whether the native inhabitants like it or not. More importantly, they claim that the Monoids are their friends, and seem to genuinely believe this, but the Monoids clearly form a second class of citizen, occupying the menial tasks on board the Ark. Most tellingly, when the occupants of the Ark become sick, Zentos notes that the Monoids are starting to die, and then adds that it will be really serious if a Guardian also dies, immediately demonstrating the relative importance ascribed to the two different populations by the Guardians. The pay-off for all this comes in episodes three and four, when the Monoids have taken over and the Guardians are reduced to the role of slaves, the Doctor noting at the end that their rebellion is hardly surprising and that both races must learn to live together on an equal footing. Incidentally, the cliffhanger ending to 'The Plague' is another example of a cliffhanger that, whilst still impressive, must have had far more impact on its first broadcast, as the TARDIS returns to the Ark and the travelers discover that the huge statue has been completed and has the head of a Monoid. Even with foreknowledge, it is still a classic moment. 

William Hartnell and Peter Purves once more deliver on the acting front, with the Doctor seeming more of a wise bystander than on previous occasions. He seems less cantankerous than usual, and is determined to help the inhabitants of the Ark. His frustration at not being allowed to try and cure the cold unleashed by Dodo is palpable, as is his delight when he succeeds in doing so. His forgiving and understanding attitude towards Zentos' earlier rabid desire for vengeance is admirable, and he is gracious when he accepts the deputy commander's apology. In the second half of the story, he continues his active role in resolving the situation, speaking on behalf of the Ark's passengers to the rather likeable Refusian, and generally mediating between various parties; it is the Doctor who at the end tells the humans that they must make peace with the Monoids, a sentiment with which the Refusian agrees on as a condition to both races staying on Refusis II. Throughout the series thus far, we have often seen the Doctor deal smugly with villains, only to be suddenly brought up short when they gain the upper hand (the Daleks are the most obvious example, but others range from Lobos, to the Animus, to Nero); it makes a refreshing, and indeed amusing, change, to see the Doctor's obvious contempt towards Monoid 1, whom he speaks to with condescension and sarcasm. There is no particular lesson to be learned from this, but it is highly entertaining. Steven is on fine form as usual, seething with righteous anger during the trial in 'The Plague' and denouncing the supposedly advanced Guardians as no better than their primitive ancestors. During 'The Return' and 'The Bomb', he plays a crucial role in the enslaved Guardians' rebellion, hinting for the first time at hitherto unseen leadership skills, a character development that rises quite logically out of his frustration at being unable to help those around him during 'The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve'. And then there's Dodo.

As a new companion, Dodo fills the young-female-sidekick-for-the-Doctor-to-explain-things-to role, previously occupied by Susan and Vicki (and, briefly, Katarina, although Sara Kingdom rather broke the mold). Since it is her cold that almost wipes out the human race, she is immediately given an active role, which is good way to introduce a new companion, and she immediately comes across as likeable enough, in large part due to the compassion and guilt brought out by the tragedy she unwittingly caused. Sadly, this doesn't last, and in the last two episodes she does very little, not even reacting very much to the revelation that her cold contributed to the success of the Monoid revolution. Nevertheless, I'm not sure why she is quite so reviled by fandom as she is, although her sporadic cockney accent doesn't do her any favours. 

Unfortunately, because of the structure of the plot, there is little for characterisation of the supporting characters in 'The Ark'; the Guardians are two-dimensional, but the Monoids are even worse. Monoid 1 gets the most lines, but he's portrayed as a stock megalomaniac, to such an extent that he actual gloats almost constantly. In fact, the best-characterised supporting character is the Refusian, and even he gets little to do, although he comes across as considerate, thoughtful and intelligent. Nevertheless, 'The Ark' manages to remain interesting throughout, and its unusual structure and excellent production standards compensate for its shortcomings. It isn't a classic, but it is a solid story and undeserving of its relative obscurity.

Doctor Who isn't the perfect TV program. Every so often there is a story you won't like. Time and the Rani has vaguely decent acting and special effects, but an awful plot and dialogue. The Monster of Peladon manages to be the dullest piece of television ever, despite the fact half the cast are wearing badger afros and Alpha Centauri appears.

But The War Machines is the story that pissed me off. Here was a story I was not only embarassed about, but a story I despised. I wanted my money back when I got the video (coupled with the fact I was, genuinely ripped off - the special feature weren't on the tape). I watched it once, seethed, watched the repeat on television and my hate grew. Believe me, all those who enjoy and revere this story, I'm as surprised as you are. It's well made and directed, and is complete. The actors are good, the special effects reasonable, the cliffhangers exciting. I should like it. I should at least tolerate it.

In the first episode, we are treated to the first Doctor and Dodo. My problem lies with Dodo. Man, I know why she didn't last four episodes, and was brainwashed for most of the two she was in - she's awful. "Imagine," she gasps, "Scotland Yard whisked off into time and space!" Must I? You being whisked off in time and space was bad enough.

A policeman goes to check a police box. That wasn't there yesterday. But is out of order. With an old man and a young girl in front of it whispering. And the old man putting the sign marked OUT OF ORDER on the front. Yet does nothing.

The Doctor is a very well-travelled alien time traveler. Yet, he is stunned by the appearance of the Post Office Tower - and is convinced its alien design broods trouble. Unsurprisingly, he quickly changes his story when talking to the innocents working in it. Instead of being troubled by the architecture, he hastily changes his story and explains there is a "powerful magnetic field" around it which he can feel. Yet, a trained scientist does not question this or even comment.

Now, onto WOTAN. Why not call it "Woe-tann" but "Vow-tarn" - I mean, the Professor isn't foriegn, is he? He doesn't have an accent and "Brett" isn't the most exotic of names. And after designing this fabulous machine, Brett has no idea what it can do or what it knows - hasn't he even bothered to check? [I now know, however, that this pronounciation is from Wagner's ring cycle, but it doesn't excuse the fact this is never referred to in the story itself. With Dodo around, anything can be explained realistically to the audience]

"You've made a machine that can think of itself?" the Doctor boggles. "AND NEVER MAKES MISTAKES?" Um, Doc, that police box you fly around in also thinks for itself, remember? And those spaceships you muck about on in the future - do you think they might be descended from this marvellous machine? These devices that save lives every day and allow humanity to progress SCARE you? The first thing you ask this know-it-all is a square root question. It isn't a calculator, Doctor! Why not ask it one of those "fox-the-computer-logic-tricks"? Or the square root of minus three? Come on, you luddite, do something! Is he just worried that this sort of technology shouldn't be available yet? Because his reaction is more "Burn the heretic!" rather than "You've invented the internet 30 years early".

Dodo asks the computer what "Tardis" means. And it knows. Is the fugitive time traveller on the run at ALL worried about this? Nope. It also knows about a human called "Doctor Who". Now, I could cope with this if it was talking about Peter Cushing and the humans got confused, but, come on... A human? HUMAN? The "who" bit I can cope with, but "human"??? This computer knows everything but thinks humans have two hearts?? OK, he didn't (maybe) have two hearts then, but he's not a human being at any time!

WOTAN just bugs me. Why does it want to conquer the world? Um... it thinks it can do a better job than humanity. And how does it demonstrate this? By making weapons of mass destruction that slaughter everything in sight. Is this ironic? No, it's stupid. In X days, it will be connected in computers all over the planet and have a world wide web of fear and chaos which it can conquer humanity. Instead, it wants to take over London with an army of fridges.

This plan, it should be pointed out, is so freaking obvious a bit part character - Kitson - works it all out by the end of part one and is not impressed. The plan is also predicted by an American journalist, and the idea is dismissed. "It would have no reason to conquer the world," Grover insists. And he's right. It doesn't. But it's doing it anyway, wouldn't you know?

How does it become sentient? No one knows or cares. It seems to take days to create a telepathic hold on Brett, who complains about sensing someone watching him, yet takes minutes to conquer Dodo. OK, bad example - her brain isn't exactly amazingly deep and powerful - but in one night it takes over half a dozen scientists via a phone line. Why? It only uses them as slave labor anyone can do - Polly replaces a few with ease - and their disappearance simply causes suspicion. "Work like the machines!" roars that nutter at one point. Seriously. "Do not stop, do not waste time!" Has this guy ever used a machine? Then he decides to gun down a worker for target practise. One of the special, brainwashed workers that they need so badly. Why not use that tramp? Oh, no, the wonderful computer logic has decided to club him to death with spanners and dump his body right outside their workshop (admittedly, a very creepy and scary scene - but illogical and ultimately pointless). That should keep the authorities guessing.

It can communicate telepathically with Brett, but no one else, and relies on a print-out machine. Quite sensible, as its voice box sounds like a strangled pig. Why not get Brett to attach something it can actually work with? It has to send Polly to the others in order to relay the complicated message "Stop killing passers by and dumping their bodies in the street". I mean, get real: a computer doesn't realize that using its slaves for target practise will require replacements until the last minute, and then doesn't even hypnotize them?

And why does it start this plan all over a few days instead of before the story starts? Does it need the Doctor? Why? The plan works fine without him and, in fact, hits snags becuase they want to capture the Doctor. Dodo, despite being controlled by a logical, computerized mind, cannot come up with a convincing cover story and her attempts to capture the Doctor ("Let's go down into this dark alley, Doctor!") aren't exactly subtle. How can Dodo act like Dodo "convincingly" but Brett cannot? Surely, the best thing to do would be to go to a press conference, smooth out all the wrinkles ASAP and then return with Kitson. No, instead he appears robotic, stares blankly into the distance, and acts suspiciously. Kitson, however, acts true to himself, showing a bit of sadism and, oddly enough, total stupidity. WOTAN presumably designed the War Machines and - if it actually was a genius - would fit it with an off-switch. Or, at the very least, have some idea what to do if it attacked him, so why doesn't Kitson try to reprogram the War Machine instead of just diving in front of its poison gas jets? The controls are on the OUTSIDE for heaven's sake!

The original title for this story was The Computers. Odd, because there's only one computer involved. This story is called The War Machines. We see two and only one plays any role in the story. It does not wage war, but runs downtown and attacks phone boxes. Thank god the military are using easily jammed weapons like machine guns and grenades that, like every one knows, can be frozen by a "magnetic field". Yes, should have thought of that. A bit of magnetism stops a thermo-nuclear reaction in a grenade, huh?

The Doctor walks in and out of situations in this story like he owns the place. Now, I can believe that. Seriously. The Doctor can bluff his way through a variety of situations and this is no exception. But we don't see him bluffing. One minute, he walks through a street, the next, he's been allowed to the top floor of the GPO tower, into the most important part of the structure with a computer. And they don't even know his name. Bit of an explanation would help. Some say he is in fact being respected because he is a mate of Ian Chesterton. Sigh. Ian Chesterton? The bit-part science teacher who eloped with a history teacher for two years before arriving back in mysterious circumstances with a tan? He had that much respect in the scientific community? Look, I had a science teacher called Hillyer who took two years off because he snapped his Achilles tendon. I don't think I could wander into someone's office, house and home with that kind of name drop. I don't think the Doctor could, either. Why DIDN'T they explain that bit at the time. Would have been so difficult?

Finally, when the Doctor de-programs Dodo and sends her to the country to recover. After the disaster, he waits outside the TARDIS for her. Why? Why not pick her up from the country house? The only reason he'd be waiting was if he got a message from her telling him to - so why does she apparently change her mind? And why does she tell Ben and Polly? My head hurts. Who Killed Kennedy comes up with a complicated explanation that Dodo was captured by the CIA and brainwashed. Fair enough. That's the explanation in 1996. What excuse did they have at the time, huh?

However, I cannot leave the review unfinished. Every story has a good side. So, I should do the positive elements in this story, for, yes, there are some. That crash-zoom at the start of the story as we see the TARDIS appear on a street corner. Very nice. Ben and Polly are magnificent in this story and it is a damn pity there isn't another complete one with them in. The Doctor being mistaken for a DJ - how cool is that? And it's great to see the First Doctor getting on so well with just about everyone. This guy really HAS been everywhere. No complaining about the noise, the fashions, the drinks... That noise WOTAN and the War Machine makes manages to keep on the side of freaky and not become irritating. Kitson's little speech about humanity, though rather corny and delivered at the wrong time, is very good - no matter what, a human life is more important than any machine. Sorry, K9. The bit where a baddie explains that Dodo has failed to capture the Doctor is surely cutting edge; in any other story, she would have been punished or killed for her failure. The blank roboticness of the brainwashed people are very creepy. And Polly... Jeez, I'm still impressed at her total lack of blinking. She does have big eyes, doesn't she? Another point in The War Machine's favor - a note of subtext. Just as WOTAN (for want of a better word) rebels against the humans, one of his war machines rebels against him. Nice irony, that.

The cliffhangers are pretty good, all in all. The Doctor standing up to the War Machine is very good - though, I wonder what the hell he was going to do if the bloody thing wasn't impressed by his Tiannamen Square tactic. And Ben getting caught in the spotlight's pretty freaky. Am I wrong, or does that W for Wotan appear in the end credits all the time? Nice corporate logo - no alien invader should be without one (and I'm looking at you, Daleks). The Doctor ducking out when no one notices is cool, too. And isn't this the first time in the show someone is hypnotized for GOOD reasons?

A lot of plot details don't make sense, but here is an explanation:

WOTAN isn't Y2K compliant. In fact, he's so badly designed that he went doodally 34 years early. This whole plan goes to pieces because WOTAN is utterly insane. Thus, all his followers are, as well. You know, the story makes a lot of sense all of a sudden.

That is why I think this story is worst. Any good potential is wasted in this. A plot that doesn't make sense on the first viewing, is full of ridiculous cliched dialogue and pointless action sequences and a pathetic Dalek substitute. People say this is a template for the Jon Pertwee era. I think they're being very rude.

Nevertheless, think I can forgive The War Machines. But its faults are numerous and it seems written for something that isn't Doctor Who.

If only Kitty had been in more of the story.