VHS... How quaint.

I've never really understood the bad rap that AMBASSADORS OF DEATH gets. Sure, it's in the middle of a good season, but I've never felt it was the weakest of Pertwee's first year. I'd much rather watch this again than view THE SILURIANS (I like the idea of SILURIANS much more than the actual story itself). AMBASSADORS is a straightforward romp that I found very enjoyable. When my copy arrived, I planned to watch the first tape one night, saving the second for the next evening. But I was having such a blast, I viewed the whole thing in one long sitting.

A lot of the time we fans find ourselves laughing at the show as often as we laugh with it. Time has not always been kind, and aspects of this serial show their age. Television and film were still new to the idea of portraying space travel realistically; it's amusing to see the production crew simulating weightlessness by turning the camera upside-down and running everything in slowmo. Gender equality is also something that the producers may have attempted, but, amusingly, Britain's Space Control Centre is staffed by a substantial number of pouting, miniskirted scientist-babes.

The story begins with the British Space Programme (well, it was the early 70s, and they were rather optimistic back then) mounting a rescue mission to discover what happened to their latest Mars Probe. When the capsule docks, contact is lost while a loud alien sound screams across the radio. The Doctor believes the sound is an alien message. Some time later, mysterious space-suited figures that can kill by touch are seen committing petty thefts, stealing radioactive isotopes and scientific equipment. 

My review is more a series of isolated thoughts. This is an entertaining romp, and deep, serious analysis wouldn't be particularly fruitful. My initial thought is that this is probably the story where the James Bond influence on the Pertwee era is the most apparent. The Doctor pulls gadgets from nowhere. He faces an earthbound menace with access to the latest military hardware. Gun-battles and chase scenes abound. There are even jazzy musical cues to punctuate the action.

On the subject of the music, I just want to say that I really dig the incidental score, occasionally inappropriate as it is (to me, action sequences don't scream out for flute solos). Of particular note is the piece played whenever the Ambassadors initiate their raids. Dreamy and atmospheric, I loved it the first time; multiple viewings have not diminished my appreciation.

Action by Havoc! Yes, the stunt-work in this one is impressive. AMBASSADORS relies on its action sequences and the team is more than up to the challenge. The battles are smoothly executed and sharply directed. Something that I found amusing (and I'm probably alone) is that one of the stuntmen reminded me of Stan Laurel. This presented me with very entertaining imagery. Stan Laurel shooting bad guys. Stan Laurel's rifle shot from his hands. Stan Laurel thrown from a helicopter. I guess life after Hardy was rough on the little guy.

The script contains quite a number of nice little moments. Reegan is particularly villainous, casually ordering his two lackeys to their deaths and then attending to the disposal of their bodies.

Visually, the story is strong. The blank faces of the space-suited aliens are as chilling as any other villain Doctor Who would produce. It's an effective way of highlighting the alien's fundamental otherness by placing the unfamiliar inside the familiar. Removing the face completely dehumanizes the aliens. It's a much more effective way of displaying their unsettling nature than if they had relied on cheap makeup.

The film sequences are fantastic -- a world of difference from the rather static studio portions. The shot of the Ambassador slowing walking towards the UNIT guard with the sun behind him would look at home in a smooth, atmospheric movie. Even the chase-scenes are inspired; note that stylish shot where Reegan races through metal walkways. He steps briefly into a puddle and the camera focuses on the reflection in the water as the ripples soften, allowing us to continue to see his progress. Cool stuff and not what one expects in a three-decade-old television production.

Towards the end, I was struck by the thought that the cliffhangers seemed unimaginative. Rather than having the episode build towards them, they just seemed to happen at whatever point in the story was up after twenty-five minutes. Wouldn't it have made more sense to move the episode five cliffhanger a few minutes so that it occurred as the alien spacecraft appears to smash the two capsules, rather than when the ship has merely appeared on the scanner?

In the later episodes, the story begins dragging. Liz gets very little to do, and her escape attempt adds nothing but time. The aliens are poorly realized outside their spacesuits. When the Ambassador removes his helmet, the director very wisely keeps the shots to a minimum, only showing the face either for a few moments, or from behind foggy glass. Unfortunately, he doesn't employee the same subtlety for the leader on the mothership, so we're treated to the sight of an alien made of oatmeal waving oven mitts at Jon Pertwee from behind a Venetian blind.

The restoration on the video is excellent. It's a pity that there was no alternative to fading between monochrome and color footage, but the transitions aren't especially jarring. The demonstration placed at the end of the second VHS tape really drives home how superior the cleaned up version is. 

There's a funny cheat in episode seven where Cornish explains that they can't obtain a good look at the alien spacecraft because radioactivity is blotting out cameras. That'll save a bit of money from the effects budget! But I have to forgive AMBASSADORS its cheats because it's just so damned entertaining. And while there are figures of power in the world willing to launch pre-emptive military strikes, this story will always be relevant.

I recently had the pleasure of seeing The Claws Of Axos for the first time, and on first viewings it struck me as one of the best of the Earth-based Doctor Who stories of the 1970s. Repeated viewings only enhanced my enjoyment, with its fast-moving scenes and direction, the well-realised visualisation of the Axon entity in its many shapes and forms, and the central concept of Axos itself – plus the central character of the third Doctor, far more abrasive than the avuncular presence of seasons nine to eleven.

The Axons are a nice twist on the alien races already encountered in the series. We have already seen. By “Axos” it has been the norm for an alien race coming in peace to be automatically viewed as hostile by the naturally distrustful Earth powers, in The Silurians, and it is quite interesting seeing their suspicions to be confirmed; and I particularly liked the twist on the contrast between pretty/friendly vs ugly/horrible aliens to be one and the same. Stealth invasion and body horror are not an original concept in Doctor Who, or sci-fi and horror in general, but always manages to be unsettling and disturbing, tapping into certain fears in the human subconsciousness, whether it is Quatermass, Alien or Rabid!

I found the Axons one of the most distinctive aliens in the series. In their humanoid guise, their androgynous appearance is quite appropriate for a race that is revealed to be a genderless consciousness, and their true nature as hideous blobs a grotesque contrast to their superficial form. Their amorphous mass of unformed organic blobs and tendrils gives them the impression of having been grown from their spaceship (which essentially they are) – the combination of the organic and the technological is always different to the more predictable sci fi norm of silver robots, and the Axons are clearly an inspiration for the Zygons and their spaceship.

‘Body horror’ – centred on concepts such as loss of individuality and human appearance, viscera, and hideous Freudian growths and appendages – is another element successfully realised in Terror Of The Zygons, which also featured shapeshifing aliens that could create duplicates of humans. The Axon creatures were obviously popular with the design department as they were reused, with a colour change, for that other body-horror shocker The Seeds Of Doom. Another nice touch to the Axons is Bernard Holley’s wonderful voice, which gives Axos a casually menacing and powerful aura for more sinister and subtle than the vocal histrionics of a Morbius or Omega!

What about the story? Obviously, it shares quite a few elements with Spearhead From Space, Terror Of The Autons, The Mind Of Evil and Inferno – a collective entity hoping to spread itself around the world by stealth, the Master collaborating with said alien entity for his own purposes, the infighting of the British Government providing as much threat towards Earth’s safety as the alien menace they are supposedly defending the planet from, and a highly pressurised industrial power complex. This might account for why people either love or hate this story – for me, any story influenced by the above stories (some of Pertwee’s best) can’t be bad, and these and other elements make it the quintessential third Doctor Earth invasion story. But, to those more immune to the charms of this format, the word quintessential can be replaced by the word ‘average’. There is an element of truth that watched alongside the stories that precede it The Claws Of Axos might give the viewer a sense of dйjа vu, but viewed in isolation it is an exciting story, and mercifully isn’t dragged out to six episodes!

Another factor that may seem less if watched as part of Season Seven as a whole is the presence of the Master in his third story in a row. Personally, if the Master had only appeared in Terror Of The Autons, The Mind Of Evil and The Claws Of Axos, Roger Delgado’s reputation as one of the series’ finest humanoid villains could have been assured. It is a nice twist to see him double-crossed by his collaborators before we first meet him, and this does not diminish his villainy, as he is seen to have absolutely no principles or allegiances. Unlike the Ainley incarnation, Delgado’s Master has so many other qualities that being just a ‘baddie’ – he shares a scary amount of qualities with the Doctor, such as his charm, intelligence and air of sophistication, which is what makes their apparent collaboration towards the end all the more effective. The Master was introduced to provide not just a contrast to the Doctor, but also to suggest that they are two sides of the same coin – in a story where our hero is still a selfish, abrasive, arrogant alien genius, it makes you wonder just how far apart these two Time Lords are, and what would have happened if the Doctor had not chosen the path of goodness. It’s a shame that the series never fully explored the implications of their bizarrely competitive relationship, and that the next attempt to introduce a similar flipside to the Doctor’s conscience – the Valeyard – was just one of many interesting ideas lost in a story arc that became a game of Chinese whispers!

As I said before, the Doctor is wonderfully abrasive here, his opening scene in which he bangs the door against Chinn reminiscent of his arch treatment of Professor Stahlman in Inferno; another hangover from Inferno is when the discovery of Axonite provides the Doctor with an opportunity to get his TARDIS fully functioning again. The thing that appealed to me about the Doctor’s exile was that he was initially unwilling to be stuck on this “third rate planet” dealing with petty officials like Chinn, and – despite his heroism – always had one eye on a chance of escape, even if it meant leaving the Brig to deal with the latest threat to Earth’s safety. OK, this might make him seem callous and unlikeable, but I like these reminders that the Doctor is not a superhero or a saint, and has his own sense of self-preservation!

It is said that the once-influential UNIT became trivialised in Season Eight. The way I see it, The Claws Of Axos is one of the last times we see UNIT presented as a credible face of international relations, fleshed out with the addition of radar operatives and intelligence officers such as the briefly used Corporal Bell, who makes her second and last appearance in this story. Another criticism is that, far from being an independent body, they became indistinguishable from the regular army and in the pocket of the Government – here we have UNIT opposed, and at times, usurped by both the idiotic civil servant Chinn and the Army.

All these elements of this story – the Doctor’s less than squeaky clean personality, mankind’s greed and pettiness being as much a threat to the planet as invading aliens, UNIT’s status in Earth affairs – make me think that this story would probably be more at home in Season Seven. This is probably the only major flaw I can find in making this story something less than it could have been. In giving us an alien whose presence seems to pose a very real threat to the survival of the world, taking place on a national power source, it seems like the production team were going for a revival of the qualities that made Inferno such a stonkingly intense story, yet Barry Letts – who conceived Season Eight as a deliberate move away from high drama to family-friendly thrills and spills – got cold feet at the last minute and threw in some stereotyped characters. Bill Filer is amusing in the way that fake Americans in Doctor Who always are (The Tomb Of The Cybermen, Terror Of The Zygons) and a maverick element is always essential to balance things out between the Doctor’s impetuousness and UNIT’s establishment attitudes, but he seems like a more one-dimensional version of Inferno’s ‘everybloke’ Greg Sutton. As for Chinn… While the scenes of him conversing with his Edward Heath soundalike boss, who clearly trusts him as far as he could throw him, are amusing; the fact that the Government would choose such an obviously ineffectual individual to handle matters of international security does undermine any realism the story might be going for. Similarly, the story is let down by one of those Scooby Doo-style endings that dog even the most faultless story (The Leisure Hive comes to mind!) – the Doctor and the UNIT gang stand around in the wreck of a power station that provides energy for the whole of southern England, but these endings are what gives the show its charm: a nice cosy ending with everyone best mates again and Earth (or at least England!) returned to its homely, familiar self. These stories were made to be family teatime viewing, so I try not to carp too much about the endings. It’s easy to forget what it was like to have Doctor Who as part of our weekly routine every year – we all knew trouble would be around the corner again in seven days, as long as we tuned in the same Who-time, the same Who-channel!

One criticism I find it harder to be forgiving of is the TARDIS scene with the Master. It’s great to see the Doctor back in his console room again, and temporarily back in time and space, so it’s a pity all we get is a tight shot of two walls and a door that refuses to shut properly!

The most famous blunder is the blue CSO backgrounds in Filer’s car and on the UNIT jeep. Given that even the most flawless of productions feature at least one effects flaw, it seems silly that these instances get singled out time and time again! It’s more than compensation enough that we get plenty of memorable images in The Claws Of Axos: the impressive-looking spaceship embedded in the surrounding of the English countryside in the middle of a freak snowstorm, the incongruous sight of the Axon creature striding across a metal and glass flyover in the Nuton complex, the spaceship’s root dragging a hapless tramp through its petal-shaped opening, the hideous sight of an Axon man’s face ballooning as it starts its transformation, the Axon man’s head spinning around Exorcist-style on the video screen, and the Freudian eyeball at the heart of the ship. There is a nice matte-style CSO long shot of the reactor which gives a great sense of scale. Even the fight between Filer and his Axon clone is well choreographed and cut-together, ending with a spectular double flip by a stuntman!

OK, it’s Season Seven Lite, but given that that most refreshing of seasons in Who’s history only gave us four stories, a slight return to its style is always welcome. Mixed with the ‘Pop Art’ design of Season Eight, and the welcome (if under-used) presence of new regulars Jo Grant and Captain Yates, and the Master at his martini-dry best, to me The Claws Of Axos is a distillation of everything I love about the Pertwee era and never less than watchable.

In a season containing two stories often described as classic (‘Terror of the Autons’ and ‘The Daemons’), one story only slightly less well regarded (‘The Mind of Evil’) and one story generally regarded as a turkey (‘Colony in Space’), ‘The Claws of Axos’ seems generally forgotten. This is shame, since it is a neat little script and showcases the staple ingredients of the Pertwee era rather well.

The great strength of ‘The Claws of Axos’ is Axos itself. The means by which Axos attempts to invade Earth is novel for the era, the Axons instigating apparently peaceful contact and using a “Trojan Horse” in the form of axonite in order to gain a foothold on Earth. Visually, Axos works surprisingly well, benefiting from being what could have been a CSO nightmare; the gaudy appearance of the inside of Axos however enhances its alien nature. In terms of the story, Axos is extremely powerful, and the Axons make for impressive monsters. Apart from the mercifully brief attack of the duvet at the end of episode two, the Axon monsters are highly effective, not only proving to be almost indestructible, but also packing considerable punch, as demonstrated when one of them shoots out a tentacle at a UNIT soldier, who explodes in a ball of flame. The Master is vital to the depiction of Axos’s power; whereas he was attempting to use both the Nestenes and the Mind Parasite for his own ends and only later realized that he had underestimated them, he is clearly extremely wary of Axos from the start, to the extent that he is prepared to abandon his own TARDIS and steal the Doctor’s in order to escape. Considering that he compares it to a second hand gas stove, this nicely emphasizes his desperation. Special mention must go to Bernard Holley for his impressive performance as the impassive but sinister Axon Man and the voice of Axos. 

As in ‘The Mind of Evil’, the Doctor’s relationship with the Master proves a highlight. As in the previous story, the Master seems to rather relish working with the Doctor, whereas the Doctor himself just seems pissed off by the need to do so. Roger Delgado is on his usual fine form, ruthless one moment and charming the next. His brief stint as UNIT’s emergency scientific advisor is rather interesting, and is revisited to even greater effect in David McIntee’s ‘The Face of the Enemy’. Pertwee himself is also excellent here, and his performance in episode four is especially worthy of note. Increasingly foul tempered due to his exile, the Doctor is most convincing when he apparently abandons his friends, and his callous dismissal of Jo especially (presumably done to convince the Master of his sincerity) is all too believable. I also like the fact that he is so desperate to regain his freedom that he really does try and escape once he has defeated Axos. 

The UNIT regulars and Jo are well used here, even Yates who is happily relegated to an action role with Benton. Despite the seemingly missing CSO background during the land rover battle, the action sequences are, well, action packed, and work very well. Katy Manning succeeds in looking suitably devastated when the Doctor leaves with the Master, but Jo’s increasingly touching faith in her mentor nonetheless remains, as she suddenly realizes that he might return to the power station just as the light reactor is about to explode. 

The guest cast, or to be more accurate, the supporting characters, are rather more variable. Peter Bathurst is a fine actor, but Chinn is such a ridiculous stereotype that even he struggles with the pompous character. Paul Grist’s Filer is rather likeable, although his hair has to be seen to be believed, and during the scene in which Filer moans about Axos whilst semi-conscious in hospital, Grist delivers a truly terrible performance. Donald Hewlett’s dignified Hardiman is rather better, as is David Savile’s Winser, although the latter’s cry of “Oh, you stupid quack!” is horribly OTT. And Pigbin Josh is best not mentioned. No, really. 

My only real criticism of ‘The Claws of Axos’ is that the threat of Axos is made clear too early. The Doctor’s suspicions as the Axon leader explains the properties of Axonite, followed by Jo’s meeting with an Axon monster at the end of episode one, would have been sufficient, but unfortunately we also get Pigbin Josh’s death (look, he really wasn’t necessary at all, OK?) and a brief glimpse of the Axon monsters as Axos first approaches Earth. I also have doubts about the explosion in episode four, which doesn’t seem to be anywhere near as serious as an explosion at a nuclear power station should have been, and the Doctor’s explanation of the time loop, which is pure technobabble. Nevertheless, ‘The Claws of Axos’ is an enjoyable story, and considering the wealth of behind-the-scenes footage available, it is crying out for a DVD release.

Death to the Daleks' has a fairly poor reputation, but I've never quite understood why. It may not be a classic, and indeed has several flaws, but it's still an entertaining, fast paced little story that generally works rather well on several fronts. 

Firstly, I said when I reviewed 'Colony in Space' that I'm a sucker for ancient races, super weapons and mysterious powerful alien races. Whilst the City isn't a super-weapon as such, the principle remains the same, and like the Uxariens, the fruits of their once mighty technology have slowly destroyed the Exxilons. I'm also a sucker for B-movie plots involving quests through labyrinths riddled with traps, so all in all 'Death to the Daleks' has a certain appeal for me thanks to the Exxilons and their City alone. The City works very well; it looks effective, and lives up to the threat that Bellal insists it poses; not only is it capable of draining power from the TARDIS in addition to the other ships on Exxilon, it also proves able to defend itself and has regenerative capabilities. The roots are surprisingly effective, despite the occasional glimpse of a wire holding them up, and the screeching noise they make as they attack is suitably chilling. The seeming ease (relatively speaking) with which the Doctor and Bellal reach the heart (or rather, the brain) of the City seems suspicious until they actually get there, when the Doctor realizes that the traps are designed to let intelligent visitors through so that it can add their knowledge to its own; having proved a threat to it, the City responds with the Antibodies, which are fairly creepy, especially as they are seemingly indestructible. The Exxilons themselves are a fairly basic primitive tribal society, which are rife throughout science fiction in general and Doctor Who in particular, but they look quite good and Bellal makes for a pleasing pseudo-companion (he doesn't actually do much besides allow the Doctor to explain the plot to the viewers, but he's quite likeable). The notion of the two Exxilon factions isn't really exploited, but then again there isn't really time to show them at odds; in plot terms, Bellal's breakaway group exists to explain the origins of the City and they do little else. The religious divide between the groups is plausible enough, although personally I suspect that Bellal's group is persecuted because they insist on walking around stark bollock naked. 

Considering how utterly ghastly their last outing was the Daleks are used well here. In many respects, they benefit from the plot, which sees them landing on Exxilon after the humans have been dithering and getting nowhere for some time, and quickly taking charge of the situation. After briefly panicking when they discover that their guns don't work, they make a bargain with the Exxilons to secure the parrineum, and to buy them time whilst they devise alternative weaponry, which is a least a nod in the direction of their old cunning and intelligence. It also speaks volumes about the Daleks that they quickly come up with a substitute weapon; this is understandable considering their helplessness when unarmed (note the Dalek that glides at the attacking Exxilons in Episode Two screeching "Exterminate!" almost instinctively and thus gets destroyed), but it also showcases their technical brilliance. Incidentally, their ability to move about on Exxilon is interesting; the script explains it away by stating that they move by psychokinesis, which is a rather startling new development, and one which suggests that Terry Nation suddenly noticed a plot-hole whilst he was writing and decided to hurriedly gloss over it. However, an upshot of this is that it also makes the Daleks look good, since however they do it, the fact remains that they retain motive power when even the TARDIS has been incapacitated. The irony of the Dalek involvement in 'Death to the Daleks' is that it is crucial to the success of the Earth mission; it is the Daleks who organize the mining (admittedly through their usual unpleasant tactics), and it is the Daleks who provide the explosives to destroy the beacon and end the power-drain. In addition, whilst we only see the two Daleks in the City tackling two of the five tests faced by the Doctor and Bellal, they don't seem to have much trouble with any them. In short, 'Death to the Daleks' makes the Daleks look pretty good. Having said that, the self-destructing Dalek in Episode Four is just annoying; it may be standard Dalek policy not to allow failure, but on an important mission to a dangerous planet on which three Daleks have already been destroyed it would surely make more sense for it to try and recapture its prisoner! 

The human characters are less effective, with only the unpleasant Galloway (Duncan Lamont, who played doomed astronaut Victor Caroon in The Quatermass Experiment) standing out. John Abineri is wasted as Railton, and Julian Fox is rather dreadful as Hamilton. Joy Harrison has to suffer with being the token female, which is one of my main criticisms of 'Death to the Daleks'; Jill Tarrant is a member of a military expedition, and yet she spends a great deal of time panicking, or on the verge of tears, or asking a journalist with no military training what to do. It's utterly ridiculous; she's like the embodiment of passive sexism. 

The Doctor and Sarah are there usual reliable selves. Sarah gets sidelined for much of the story, but Liz Sladen does what she can with her limited scenes; her clobbering of the Exxilon in the TARDIS is a great scene, in part because it's rather claustrophobic, Sarah frantically trying to open the door of what should be a safe haven whilst her attacker starts to recover on the floor behind her. Pertwee isn't at his best or worst here, he simply puts in an average performance, although I do like his "a hit Sir, a palpable hit!" routine when the root attacks the Dalek. 

Production wise, the story is mixed. The model work of the city looks good, as does its final destruction. There are moments of impressive direction, including shots of the expedition's photographs of the City superimposed over Sarah approaching the edifice, and the surreal final test in the City. Showing us the attacking Exxilons from the point of view of a Dalek in Episode Two also works well, conveying the unarmed Dalek's panic at being unable to defend itself. Serves it right. However, as in 'Planet of the Daleks', the contrast between location footage and studio footage is rather jarring, especially as the extensive rocky sets look decidedly plastic. This is doubly unfortunate, since the location work is very atmospheric. I also wish that they hadn't used the static Dalek to bulk up numbers; I'm not sure why, but I actually find it far more distracting than photographic cardboard cut-outs used in the black and white Dalek stories. There is unfortunately some crap editing; it is obvious before the end credits role in Episode One that the Dalek guns don't work, and the cliff-hanger to Episode Three is beyond belief, consisting as it does of a shot of a tiled floor. There's also a pointless frame of Galloway screaming after he detonates the bomb at the end, which isn't remotely convincing. My strongest criticism of the story however, is the stupid incidental music, which robs several scenes of any dramatic tension that they might have had. A very silly musical sting for example, accompanies the first sight of the Daleks as they glide from their ship.

Despite these criticisms however, 'Death to the Daleks' is well paced and entertaining, and makes effective use of its eponymous villains.

As dйbut stories go, ‘Spearhead From Space’ is one of the best and far better than Jon Pertwee could ever have hoped for. This is only partially because it was recorded entirely on film; whilst this undoubtedly benefits the production by giving it a unique slick appearance, it is not enough to rescue a mediocre story. Coupled with fine acting, superb direction and a marvellous script, however, it helps to make ‘Spearhead From Space’ a true classic.

Firstly, the new Doctor has to be mentioned. Pertwee makes an impressive Doctor, debonair, charming and immediately commanding. During the first two episodes, he is given little opportunity to make an impression, since the Doctor is suffering somewhat form his regeneration and spends most of the time bed-ridden and unconscious. Even here though, Pertwee makes the most of the script and is immediately charismatic enough to maintain viewer interest. His performance really starts to shine in the latter half of episode two, as the Doctor awakens and makes his escape from the hospital, gaining a new costume on the way. By the time he reaches UNIT HQ in London, his performance hits the pattern that he will stick to throughout his era, occasionally waspish (note his treatment of the speechless guard whom he demands take him to Lethbridge-Stewart), often charming (his first meeting with Liz), and commanding, but above all likeable. For all that he is far more intimidating than Troughton was, he is still very much the Doctor. His rueful performance on leaving the smoking TARDIS and shamefacedly admitting to the Brigadier that he tricked Liz into stealing the TARDIS key so that he could escape shows the Doctor’s vulnerable, almost human side, which shines through the rest of his persona, even when he is irritable and bad-tempered. In this respect, he recalls Hartnell more than Troughton, but also establishes the Third Doctor as a distinct character in his own right as a rather dashing man of action; he leads the raid on Auto Plastics during episode four, heading for a meeting with Channing with Liz whilst the UNIT troops remain outside, despite the danger. The final scene, as the Doctor agrees to remain with UNIT whilst he tries to repair his TARDIS and escape from his exile, sets the pattern for the rest of the season, and of course most of the Pertwee era. And it is also worth noting that for all his desire to escape Earth, once he realises the true threat posed by the Nestenes, he focuses his entire attention on defeating them. 

The other regular cast members of Season Seven also make an impression here. Lethbridge-Stewart is of course a familiar figure, and Nicholas Courtney falls back into his role with great aplomb. The Brigadier seen here is intelligent, commanding, and also diplomatic; despite his military rigidity, which will later be used as a source of fun, he is not portrayed as some hard-nosed stereotypical soldier, but rather a trustworthy and eminently likeable authority figure who listens to those around him and smoothly deals with the cynical Liz Shaw, the terrified Ransome with his seemingly ridiculous story of killer manikins, and later the Doctor. In fact the Brigadier is admirably broad-minded (understandably so after the events of ‘The Web of Fear’ and ‘The Invasion’) and quickly accepts the idea that this tall, debonair, white-haired stranger is the same man as the small, scruffy dark-haired man whom he encountered previously. He also takes Ransome and the Doctor’s theories about the Nestene energy unit seriously, and this plays an important role in defeating the menace he is facing. His relationship with the new Doctor is also quickly established; there is mutual respect between them and the impression of a budding friendship carefully disguised by occasional banter. The Brigadier is clearly prepared to humour his old friend in episode four by agreeing to his various demands in exchange for his help, indicating just how much he values the Doctor’s help. His relationship with Liz Shaw, and her relationship with the Doctor, are also cemented here. Initially, Liz is the voice of cynicism; the rational scientist confronted with the unusual and alien and forced to come to terms with it. To her credit, she does not try to fly in the face of evidence and having been forced to accept that an alien invasion is underway, she pitches in to help, gradually gaining respect for both the Brigadier and the Doctor. Whilst Zoe was highly intelligent and open minded, Liz combines both of these attributes with considerably more maturity, which gives a rather more grown-up feeling to the regular cast and enhances the more adult feeling of Season Seven compared with Season Six. She is able to talk to the Doctor on a more equal footing than many of her predecessors and yet is sufficiently unknowledgeable about the unique problems faced by UNIT that she still provides somebody for the Doctor to explain things to, and thus to the audience. 

After six seasons of stories in which the Doctor can travel anywhere in time and space, the concept of restricting him to Earth during a specific period of time is potentially limiting. Robert Holmes quickly dispels any such fears by establishing the new template for the series with an impressive and memorable threat. The Nestenes are truly alien, a disembodied and utterly malevolent alien intelligence in the mould of the threats from The Quatermass Experiment and Quatermass II. Despite the merciful brief appearance of the unconvincing Nestene monster at the end of episode four, this allows for an alien invasion of Earth that doesn’t resort to rubber monster costumes, and further adds to the adult feel of the new season. The Autons are extremely sinister and creepy monsters and still look great thirty years on. ‘Spearhead From Space’ contains some of the most sinister sequences in the series’ history, including the Auton coming to life behind Ransome at the end of episode two, the Auton advancing remorselessly towards the terrified Mrs. Seely in episode three, and most notably of all, the classic sequence in episode four as shop window dummies come eerily to life, break out of the shop windows, and silently slaughter members of the public. These sequences capture the same sort of impression as those of the Cybermen marching through London in ‘The Invasion’ and earlier the Daleks in ‘The Dalek Invasion of Earth’. Suddenly, the threat faced by the Doctor is on Earth in the present and it makes it all the more frightening. Suddenly, the benefits of the Doctor’s exile become clear. The Autons are simply terrifying, more so even than the Cybermen because whilst they are also remorseless, seemingly unstoppable, and bulletproof, they are also silent. 

So much adds to the success of ‘Spearhead From Space’. The use of colour is an obvious difference, and adds to the slick new look of this film-only story. The incidental music is suitably chilling, and enhances the menace of the Autons. The location work is gorgeous, especially the quaint interior of Ashbridge Cottage Hospital, and of course that shower. The direction is exemplary, with an impressive shot in episode one of the Brigadier and Captain Munro walking towards camera along a corridor. In comparison with modern television programmes it seems almost pointless to mention this, but it signifies such a technical advance compared with the previous Season that in the context of the series it really stands out. Most of all however, ‘Spearhead From Space’ benefits from acting and characterisation. Hugh Burden is almost as sinister as the Autons as Channing, looking remarkably cadaverous and ghastly. Most of his best acting is with his eyes alone; witness the way that they widen with excitement as he orders the “total destruction” of first Ransome and then later Hibbert. There is also some very impressive “Frightened” acting on display; as Ransome, Derek Smee looks genuinely terrified as he gibbers and dribbles tea in Munro’s tent, and Betty Bowden as Meg Seely looks equally frightened as the bullet-proof Auton advances on her in episode three. Then there is John Woodnutt’s tortured Hibbert, Neil Wilson’s shifty Sam Seely who unwittingly holds up the Nestenes’ invasion plans by hoarding the swarm leader to make a quick profit, Antony Webb’s perplexed Doctor Henderson, baffled by the Doctor’s alien physiology but determined to help his patient… the list goes on. 

I could make a couple of criticisms of ‘Spearhead From Space’. The switch from the model shot of the TARDIS materializing to location footage of the Doctor emerging and collapsing is so obvious that it’s painful, and the Nestene monster at the end is crap, but these are such minor criticisms that they vanish under the weight of the story’s good points. Finally, there is the ending, as the Doctor defeats the Nestenes. Yes, it is a deus ex machina ending, the Doctor cobbling together a contraption to defeat the invaders, and it could have been better, but crucially it entirely depends on the Doctor. Without his machine, the Auton invasion would probably have succeeded. Frankly, that exonerates it in my eyes, serving to establish the Doctor’s importance in UNIT’s operation. ‘Spearhead From Space’ shows us the new direction for Doctor Who and it shows it to us with tremendous style.

‘Colony in Space’ is generally regarded as the low point of Season Eight, but not by me. Whilst I do have criticisms of the story, I consider its good points to outweigh its bad ones, and although it is perhaps padded I don’t find it particularly dull as some fans seem to. 

I basically have three criticisms of ‘Colony in Space’. The first is the immediate revelation of the Master’s involvement in the first scene of episode one. Admittedly, given that he has appeared in every story of the season so far, it would be more of a surprise if he didn’t appear, but as the story stands he doesn’t turn up until episode four. Unfortunately, the Time Lords’ discussion in the very first scene make it clear that he is going to put in an appearance at some point, resulting in three episodes of waiting for him to arrive rather than enjoying the events leading up to that point. To add insult to injury, there is a pointless appearance by the Brigadier in which he discusses the Master with the Doctor and Jo. 

My second criticism is slightly more obscure, and it involves the Doctor’s attitude to the colony. From the moment that he meets Ashe, he encourages the colonists to fight to save the colony, first against the harsh conditions on the planet and later against IMC. Fair enough, but at no point does he even raise the issue of the colonists’ right to have landed on an inhabited planet without the permission of the indigent population. He takes an interest in the Primitives true, and it is made clear that the colonists generally get on well with them, but I still get a nagging feeling that the Doctor should care more about this issue.

Finally, there is the problem of Norton. He turns up mysteriously from a hitherto unsuspected colony at a time when things are going especially badly for the colonists, and just before IMC arrive, and continuously encourages them to leave Uxarieus. And they never suspect him! Even when the Doctor warns Winton to be wary of Norton, his warning goes unheeded, as a result of which Norton’s last act is ruin the colonists’ ambush in episode four. He’s so clearly suspicious that it beggars belief that none of the colonists seem to suspect him at all. 

Anyway, on to the good stuff. I’m a sucker for ancient races, super weapons and mysterious powerful alien races, so the doomsday weapon plotline immediately biases me in favour of ‘Colony in Space’. Although we learn very little about the Uxarians, their city is well realized, and they generally look quite good, especially the bloated, misshapen faces of the Primitives, the weird appearance of the Priests, and the horribly withered looking Guardian. We learn enough to tantalize me at least, and the revelation about the Crab Nebula is enough to convince the viewer that it would be an extremely bad idea for the Master to have access to the Doomsday Weapon. 

The Colonists versus IMC is hardly original, but again works quite well. This is due largely to Malcolm Hulke’s skill at characterisation; whilst not up to the standards of that in ‘Doctor Who and the Silurians’, it is still sufficient to grab interest. Representing IMC, we have Caldwell, Captain Dent, and Morgan. Caldwell, excellently portrayed by Bernard Kay in his fourth Doctor Who role, is simply a miner who wants to do his job, doesn’t want to see anyone get hurt, and eventually gives in to his conscience despite Dent’s bullying. In stark contrast we have Morgan (an unfortunately wooden performance from Tony Caunter), a sadistic thug who is basically in it for the violence. Finally there is Dent, who unlike Morgan is motivated not by vicious glee, but by profit. I rather like Morris Perry’s performance as Dent, although his hair rivals Bill Filer’s for silliest of the season. Dent is cold, calculating and ruthless, but lacks the sadism of his underling. True, after repeated setbacks by the colonists, he develops a desire for revenge, but he retains an air of icy impassivity throughout. This is effective in itself, but doubly so when contrasted with the bombastic charm of the main villain…

The colonists are represented primarily by Winton and Ashe. John Ringham is incapable of crap acting, and gives a solid performance as Ashe, who is idealistic almost to the point of stupidity, but has a touching naivety that gives the character the air of a kicked puppy throughout. Ashe is a man whose dreams and faith in mankind’s better nature are soundly thrashed throughout, until he eventually sacrifices himself heroically to save the colony that he loved so much. Every cloud has a silver lining though; his death spares him from having to listen to his daughter, as played by Helen Worth, an actress whose voice could shatter glass. Then again, as one of only two female colonists we actually get to see, she probably has plenty to be shrill about. Winton is far more pragmatic than Ashe and is competently portrayed by Nicholas Pennell, although I find the character’s impact is lessened by a moustache that puts me in mind of Swedish porn films. 

What really makes ‘Colony in Space’ stand out in my mind are the Doctor and the Master. Firstly, the Doctor alone is worth the price of admission; the change in his demeanour once he steps out the TARDIS onto an alien world for the first time since ‘The War Games’ (probably – there is a time and a place to discuss the Season 6B theory and this isn’t it) is noticeable and worth pointing out to Jon Pertwee’s detractors. The Doctor has been increasingly bad-tempered since the start of the season and his sheer delight at being able to step out onto another world is charming. There is a wonderful scene between the Doctor and Jo, who is understandably nervous at the thought of being on an alien planet for the first time, in which he explains how much it means to him to be able to visit other times and places. Whereas in other, Earthbound, stories the Doctor might have snapped at Jo or been generally short-tempered, here he is bubbling with infectious enthusiasm as the pair of them stand before the open TARDIS doors. It is a marvellous moment as his exile is briefly relaxed by Time Lord decree (the first time we get to see their manipulative side) and it is also crucial to Jo’s acceptance of what the TARDIS really represents; despite her anxiety, he convinces her to explore and she quickly befriends colonists and stands up to IMC thugs as well as she would have done on Earth.

As in the previous three stories, the relationship between the Master and the Doctor is particularly interesting. I’ve noted before that the Master keeps allowing himself to be easily distracted from killing the Doctor and often seems to almost want his approval, whereas the Doctor is far less tolerant of his foe. Here, this trend reaches its peak, as the Master offers the Doctor a half-share in the universe in one of my favourites scenes of the season in episode six. Significantly, there seem to be no strings; the Master has the upper hand and holds the Doctor at gunpoint. He simply does not need to bargain with the Doctor and therefore his offer is clearly genuine. Suddenly, what was suggested in the previous stories is laid bare here; for all their enmity, the Master really does want the Doctor’s approval and even, perhaps, his friendship. The Doctor on the other hand does not return the sentiment, as he makes clear by exasperatedly explaining that he only wants to see the universe, not rule it. The look of sheer fury that crosses the Master’s face at that moment smacks of disappointment and speaks volumes about just how highly he secretly regards the Doctor. It almost suggests that everything he’s done since ‘Terror of the Autons’ is attention seeking more than anything else; he might want power, but he wants the Doctor’s respect far more. 

That pretty much sums up ‘Colony in Space’. I have one or two minor criticisms that I didn’t mention above, but these are very trivial; Jo’s surprise that the TARDIS can move is one, since this story follows ‘The Claws of Axos’. Another is the fact that the Master took several security precautions after the Doctor stole his dematerialization circuit in ‘Terror of the Autons’. So why didn’t fit a lock with a metabolism detector like the one the Doctor’s TARDIS has in ‘Spearhead From Space’? The Doctor could probably break in anyway, since the Master broke into his TARDIS in ‘The Claws of Axos’, but it might slow him down a bit. Overall, ‘Colony in Space’ is generally regarded to be a bit of a turkey, but I really like it. This is almost ironic, given that the following story is often considered to be a true classic and the highlight of the Pertwee years, but for me is the Pertwee era’s equivalent of a steaming pile of horse manure.