What can I possibly say about 'The Caves of Androzani' that hasn't been said before? Very little, actually; it is a superb finale for Davison, and possibly my favourite story of the entire John Nathan-Turner era.

I've repeatedly declared that Robert Holmes is my favourite writer for the Doctor Who television series, and 'The Caves of Androzani' is another example of why. The characterisation is superb, even for the minor characters, and the attention to detail makes this story another example of why he was so good at portraying other societies and worlds. As in 'Carnival of Monsters' and 'The Ribos Operation', Holmes' skill at hinting at wider cultures is in evidence, with numerous references to the wider social background of Androzani Major. There are references to the planet's industry, with the copper mines controlled by the Sirius Conglomerate, and the planet's penal system. Several references make it clear that capital punishment is in use on Major (Morgus' order to Krau Timmin that the lift maintenance engineer be shot doesn't raise an eyebrow), and there is also a reference to a chawcaw picking, apparently a penalty for crimes not serious enough to warrant execution. There are also references to military customs, with death under the red cloth being a prime example. In addition, it is made clear that Androzani Major, despite the benefits that some of its people reap from Spectrox, is no utopia; businessman Morgus has considerable influence over the Presidium, in an effective demonstration of capitalism gone mad. His gift of Spectrox to the President is little more than a bribe to maintain his standing with the people who supposedly run the planet, and although the President clear doesn't like him it is implied that he often follows Morgus' suggestions. The use of labour camps as a solution to the problem of unemployment, with Morgus proposing that anyone who doesn't have a valid work permit could be shipped off for what is effectively a life of unpaid slavery, is disturbing; the President's acceptance of the suggestion is even more so, especially since he clearly realises that Morgus is exploiting the system for his own benefit. As the President points out, Morgus has been closing plants in the west, causing increased unemployment; by shipping the unemployed off to camps in the east, those citizens who he has sacked will be working for him again, but without being paid. Such corruption is clearly rife on Androzani Major, a world driven by greed and profit. And there is corruption too within the military; Morgus can effectively give orders to the military because of the power he wields behind the scenes, and in a lesser example Chellack feels unable to reveal that he ordered the execution of two androids because if he does so it will ruin his career. Had Jek really been using androids as gunrunners, the General's decision to keep quiet about it would have been criminal to say the least.

The plot of 'The Caves of Androzani' works superbly well, and although it is very similar to that of Holmes' previous (and rather poor) 'The Power of Kroll', it works far better. The reason for this is due largely to the characterisation. Even the relatively minor characters are well characterised; Krelper's attempts to rival Stotz's leadership are an example, and lead to two great character moments. One of these is their confrontation on the cliff top as Stotz humiliates Krelper, who is left pleading for his life, and the other is Stotz's casual murder of Krelper and his other surviving subordinate in Episode Four. Roy Holder plays Krelper with just the right amount of load mouthed swagger to successfully convey that for all his criticism of Stotz he is merely a thug who is totally outclassed by his psychopathic leader. Another well-characterised minor character (again, relatively speaking) is David Neal's President. He clearly dislikes Morgus but needs his support; his contempt when he points out the advantages to Morgus in shipping the unemployed to labour camps is barely concealed, as is his revelation that Morgus' funding of the campaign on Androzani Minor ought to be generous, since he owns the planet. Holmes also provides a nice detail by hinting at a past military career for the character, as he watches the apparent execution of the Doctor and Peri with disgust and declares that "In my day we'd have had filthy little swine like that shot in the back. The red cloth was for soldiers".

Krau Timmin is another particularly good example; she is initially portrayed as Morgus' confidant and possibly secretary, but by the end it is revealed that she is just as ruthless as her employer, selling him out to the presidium in order to take over as chairman of the Sirius Conglomerate. Barbara Kinghorn plays the role with a calm efficiency; she is not remotely unsettled by the explosion at the North Caul Copper Mine, even though Morgus later implies that she isn't supposed to know that he organized it, and her reaction to the death of the President is only slightly more emotional. Then there is Martin Cochrane's Chellack, a professional soldier clearly embittered by the fact that he has to obey orders to a civilian he understandably despises, and sufficiently aware of how his society works that he accepts the need to execute the Doctor and Peri despite believing them to be innocent. His aforementioned refusal to tell the presidium that he has ordered the execution of androids evokes no sense that this is a man who is happily dishonest, rather one of impotent frustration that his world requires such deception if he is to maintain his career. Indeed, he has succumbed to the pressures of Androzani society to the extent that he decides to send Ensign Cass, the only other witness aside from Salateen to the discovery that the bodies are androids, on a deep penetration mission, knowing full well that he won't return. He doesn't seem happy with the decision, but knows that if he doesn't ensure Cass's silence, his own future will suffer. Salateen contrasts nicely with Chellack; far less experienced than the General, the real Salateen has an enthusiasm about him even after months spent as Jek's prisoner. He also, once he escapes, exhibits a brash confidence that is unwarranted; his plan to trick Jek with misinformation is optimistic at best. His incautious approach to an android in Episode Four is a great example of this confidence; he doesn't even contemplate the fact that his belt plate will fail him and dies as a result. Ironically, Jek's facsimile of Salateen would never have made such a reckless mistake. Robert Glenister impressively distinguishes between the two in his performance, the android seeming far more efficient and emotionless than its original. 

But for all the great supporting characters in 'The Caves of Androzani', it is the two main villains who dominate. Morgus and Sharaz Jek are very much opposites; Jek is emotional and unstable, whereas Morgus is cold, and calculating. Sharaz Jek is a superb character, played deadly straight by Christopher Gable, in an astonishing performance. Jek is frighteningly mad; in the blink of an eye he changes from gloating genius to a deeply embittered and damaged individual shaking with uncontrollable fury. Jek's volatility is evident throughout, and it brings an edge to his scenes with the Doctor and Peri that make him utterly unpredictable; Gable acts with both his voice and his body, becoming a physical threat in an instant as he towers over Peri and demands whether she wants to see his face beneath the mask with sheer rage in his voice. His motivation is perfectly devised, a once handsome and popular man betrayed and abandoned and turned into a monster as a result. So bitter is he and so desperate for revenge that he will stop at nothing to get at Morgus, denying Spectrox to everyone on Androzani Major and orchestrating the deaths of hundreds of Chellack's troops as they fight to regain control of Androzani Minor. His desperate loneliness and need for beauty is pathetic, and almost sympathetic, but he's also brutal and dangerous; he thinks nothing of having the Doctor's arms torn out to gain the information he requires. His desire for Peri is interesting, because the impression is given that he really won't hurt her, despite the predatory sexual overtones. 

Morgus meanwhile is very different to Jek; whereas Jek is motivated by a desire for revenge, Morgus is motivated by power and profit. Wheras Jek is passionate and unstable, Morgus is icy cold; his destruction of his own copper mine and his murder of the President are the actions of a man determined to control his profit margin and his power base whatever the cost. He orders sabotage and executions with casual calmness and never loses his composure. When he believes that the President has discovered that he has been secretly providing Jek with weapons to prolong the war and drive up the price of Spectrox, he is forced to think quickly, but he doesn't panic. His murder of the President is carefully calculated; he swiftly plans to leave Major taking with him financial resources sequestered on the outer planets. Even when Timmin usurps him and reveals that he is wanted on seventeen counts and that his assets on the outer planets have been frozen, only a tight lipped expression and a widening of his eyes hints at the emotions this engenders. And he remains calm even then, quickly proposing to Stotz that they attempt to secure Jek's store of Spectrox. John Normington's portrayal of Morgus is superb, with even his breaking of the fourth wall, which could have been horribly tacky in the hands of a lesser actor and a lesser director, providing a chilling glimpse into the character's thoughts. The final scene between Jek and Morgus is astounding; Morgus, motivated purely by profit, pulls a gun on Jek and demands the Spectrox, with no apparent interest in their past history. Jek on the other hand is finally faced with the man for whom hatred has motivated his every waking moment for long months; with revenge consuming him, he has the strength to strangle Morgus and fight off Stotz even with bullets pumped into his body. With Morgus dead and his reason for living gone, he slumps, finally, into the arms of his greatest creation. Both Gable and Normington are superb in this scene, Gable embodying loathing whilst Normington shows Morgus, his icy calm finally punctured by the iron grip around his throat, unable to do anything but struggle weakly in Jek's death grip. 

Two great villains - Jek is passionate and unstable, embittered by betrayal and motivated solely by a desire for revenge. Morgus is cold and calculating, motivated by power and profit. His destruction of his own copper mine, plus his murder of the President, are both carried out with calm, ruthless efficiency. Jek's obsession with Peri has disturbing sexual undertones. He's sympathetic and pitiful, but utterly mad. By the end, Morgus has lost everything but remains calm and calculating. Jek's final scene is superb, as he finally confronts Morgus and kills him, his hatred allowing him to fight off Stotz and withstand bullets until his task is complete. 

There is another villain worthy of mention in 'The Caves of Androzani'; Maurice Roeves plays Stotz as a charismatic psychopath with great effect. Stotz is brutal, but not stupid; his ill-fated attempt to follow Jek to the Spectrox storehouse is logical, but foiled by the presence of the Magma Creature, and his threatening of the rebellious Krelper at various points leave the viewer in little doubt that anyone who crosses Stotz is likely to end up dead very quickly. He accompanies Morgus back into the caves at the end partly because he wants to settle his score with Jek, and his murderous anger towards the Doctor at the end of Episode Three is utterly convincing. Roeves also brings a laid-back attitude to the role when appropriate; he has not particular axe to grind with the Doctor until Morgus orders him to remain in geo-stationary orbit, and as a result he chats casually to his prisoner even as he chains him up. His finest moment however is his murder of Krelper, an utterly casual final lesson to a subordinate who dared to cross him. 

Graeme Harper's direction of 'The Caves of Androzani' is of course crucial to its success, and rightly so. Harper brings a variety of techniques to the production that is responsible for creating the highly dramatic atmosphere throughout. His use of camera angles and slow fades is masterful; in particular, the slow fade from Jek in Episode Two after he explains that he wants Morgus' head to Morgus just as he learns that his sabotage of the copper mine has been successful and back again, nicely juxtaposes the two very different enemies. Virtually every aspect of the production is a triumph here, from model work to costumes, and with highly impressive cave sets. Roger Limb's score also adds greatly to the atmosphere. The costumes also work very well (obviously including Jek's highly distinctive leather suit), and the use of machine guns rather than ray guns adds considerably to the gritty realism of the story. The main shortcoming is of course the Magma Creature, which looks awful; it is doubly unfortunate that it is virtually extraneous to the plot, since it does little except provide a cliffhanger to Episode Two. This is however, a very minor criticism. 

Finally, there are the regulars. After Peri's happy and enthusiastic characterisation in 'Planet of Fire' (and the intervening Big Finish audios), here she undergoes a significant change. Her obvious enjoyment of her travels with the Doctor is evident at the start, but is soon knocked out of her as she is gets Spectrox Toxaemia and becomes increasingly ill, nearly gets executed, and then suffers the attentions of a obsessive lunatic. It is quite natural therefore that she spends most of 'The Caves of Androzani' increasingly traumatized and unhappy, a trend that will continue into the following story. Nicola Bryant is great in the role, conveying the impression that Peri is genuinely frightened throughout, especially when faced with the overpowering Jek. 

But it is Peter Davison who really steals the show, in what is for me his finest performance in the role. Having got himself and Peri into trouble through his own curiosity, he spends the rest of the story desperate to save his companion's life. The Doctor is at his most heroic, as he increasingly frantically struggles to rescue Peri and find a cure for the Spectrox Toxaemia; the cliffhanger ending to Episode Three is one of the series' finest and this is largely because of Davison. He is like a man possessed as he disregards Stotz's threats with a manic cheeriness, shouting that he owes it to Peri to try and find a cure. Indeed, it is concern for Peri's life rather than his own that seems to drive him, culminating in his final sacrifice as he gives the bat's milk to Peri and, effectively, dies. Throughout Episode Four, as nearly all of the supporting characters die around him and the mud burst begins, the Doctor fights his way through chaos to reach the Queen Bat, and then get back to Peri. As the Doctor struggles with his own increasingly ill health and carries Peri in his arms, Davison's ability to combine the impression of illness with one of manic desperation is incredibly good. Interestingly, whilst the Doctor unknowingly catalyses events throughout 'The Caves of Androzani' and is thus crucial to the denouement, his need to save Peri means that he spends most of his time in single-minded pursuit of this goal, raising the question of how differently events on Androzani Minor might have played out had the Doctor focused his full attention on the conflict. The final scene is beautifully directed. Graeme Harper provides my favourite regeneration in the series to date, with a rising crescendo and light and noise accompanying the transformation. The appearance of all of the Fifth Doctor's television companions seems fitting rather than a gratuitous nostalgia trip, mainly because it results in "Adric" being the last word that the Fifth Doctor speaks; final recognition of the companion that this incarnation couldn't save, and whose death has undoubtedly contributed to his increasingly serious attitude throughout the Fifth Doctor's era. It is a fitting end. 

The decision to give the new Doctor lines at the end of final story of the old is an effective one; the Sixth Doctor's caustic comments speaks volumes about the character of the new incarnation, and tantalizes with a glimpse of a Doctor who is obviously going to very distinct from his predecessor. In summary, 'The Caves of Androzani' is not just one of Doctor Who's finest stories, it is also a stunning swansong for Peter Davison and offers an intriguing hint of what is to come. Which means that the following story comes as a bit of a shock…

It is so sad when you re-watch something you have thoroughly enjoyed in the past and found it to be lacking through older (but not necessarily wiser) eyes. You feel cheated, like all that time you have invested in the story has been for nothing, either that or you are getting more cynical and critical, as you get older. Either way, it is not good news. 

Black Orchid is does not really fall under this category although when I slipped it into the player recently I got the impression that Simon enjoyed it more than me. It is always good to remember how you felt when you saw a story for the first time and how refreshing it is to watch without knowing what is going to happen. 

There were a few problems I noticed this time that I didn’t notice or chose to ignore on previous watchings. Chief among them is the bitty direction, how the camera switched angles to incorporate Ann and Nyssa but never really achieves this convincingly. When you can see how the director is trying keep the actresses face out of shot then it become immediately obvious what he is trying to achieve and loses a lot of its effect. There are lots of sudden sharp twists of the camera leading to some sloppy editing, Nyssa and Ann deciding to wear the same costume is a fab idea but poor editing leads to them interrupting each other (“Isn’t that topping?” “Quite topping!”). I realise this was being made in a hurry and is unfair to compare the standards of today’s television but if the show could edit itself as well as Androzani then it should be able to do so here too. 

Also it pains me to continue my tirade against Peter Davison’s portrayal of the Doctor but he is so utterly ineffectual in this story to defy belief. Paul Cornell gave a wonderful piece in the Fifth Doctor magazine that DWM released early in 2003 that had me in stitches. Davison plays the part with energy apparently, he is the picture of the British aristocracy, he is generous and touchy feely. Hmm…he’s also dead boring. Am I honestly expected to look under the mask of his acting, to find meaning in his corridor wandering and detachment from the main plot, perhaps if Davison did something worth watching in the first place people like Cornell would not have to ‘look beneath the mask’ and see what is happening. What’s wrong with surface acting anyway? 

The real problem with the fifth Doctor is that he fits in so well in Black Orchid. The bland world of British aristocracy, where they clap effeminately, drink screwdrivers in their baths and hold fancy dress balls. He is so accommodating, so polite and so gentlemanly; in all respects he is a lovely guy. And this why he is so tedious because watching somebody slot perfectly into a story with no issues is as good as making him invisible, no tension or trouble and therefore no drama. Or excitement. Forgive me but I think variety is the spice of life…and good television drama and a bit of character conflict would not go awry here.

Even when he is arrested and charged with the death of Digby the servant the Doctor accepts his fate with the barest shrug of the shoulders. He gives a quick defence of his actions and then sits down and practically asks to be handcuffed. Gee whiz if this was the sixth Doctor fireworks would demolish Cranleigh Manor. 

“All aboard! All aboard! Step on board the number 40 TARDIS! Available to take you to any destination in the universe for a very reasonable fee!” The Doctor takes three more people into the TARDIS in Black Orchid as well as the three companions he already has! Rather than fight his defence in a rational and intelligent manner, revealing the plot of George/Black Orchid to the police (which he clearly has figured out) he introduces three policemen to a technological wonder light years ahead of their time. What is wrong with this guy? He cannot surely think this is a reasonable course of action! Well obviously because he does it again in the next story and then skip over a season and again in The Awakening. How these people accept the interior dimensions without going ga-ga is beyond me. The Doctor’s logic is lacking in a most severe fashion.

The only time Davison actually feels like the Doctor in this and not Peter Davison in a period drama is at the climax where he scales the staircase and fights through the burning house to rescue Nyssa, calmly (of course) talking George into letting her go. But one moment in two episodes is quite unacceptable. 

Highlighting the Doctor against his companions and he comes up even worse because for once the unworkable team of Adric, Tegan and Nyssa actually works! And why? Because of their cultural differences. It is a joy to see just how different each of them are from each other and yet realise how they have come to relax in each others company. When they all step from the TARDIS there is genuine warmth there, it is unspoken but very apparent, Tegan is smiling (swoon), Nyssa gently mocks the Doctor’s train obsession and Adric is culturally curious. Later scenes of Tegan and Nyssa in the bedroom dancing the Charleston are wonderful, a real sense of femininity in the show, two strong female characters relaxing in each other’s company. And how Nyssa and Tegan both chide Adric for his food obsession without prompting the other suggests a strong brotherly affection without ever explicitly saying anything. 

But rubbing shoulders with this much more soothing atmosphere amongst the three friends are the cultural differences which highlight just how alien Nyssa and Adric are whilst Tegan’s humanity is brought to fore in a more likable way than ever. The trio sit there and watch the Doctor play cricket, Tegan clapping and cheering and the Alzarian and the daughter of Traken shake their head in disbelief at this bizarre human ritual. Nyssa gently mocks the Charleston suggesting the dancing on Traken is “much more formalised and far more complex”. Adric’s huge stomach suggests Alzarians have a high metobolism (after his similar pig out in Kinda). And watching Tegan in the company of Sir Robert, ignoring his age and flattering him, joking with him and having a wiggle on the terrace is quite delightful, after stories full of Tegan’s psychotic neuroses it is such a relief to see she is also charming, pleasant to be with and engaging. I would love to meet the Tegan of Black Orchid. 

As for the story itself…well its fabulous of course! The one thing you can always trust the BBC to look gorgeous is a period drama and in the traditions of Pride and Prejudice, Emma and Sense and Sensibility Black Orchid has a sumptuous production. Its not just the aged location work, the wonder of the steam train, the lush green cricket fields, the characterful exterior of Cranleigh Manor but the atmosphere stretches to the detailed sets, the luscious ball costumes and the delicious grainy camera filter. It all looks very genuine, the characters say what you would expect them to say (“Ripping!” “Topping” “Smutty!”) and behave politely and are beyond reproach. 

Why shouldn’t we have an episode where the Doctor and co take a break from all the mosters and villains and problems of universe and settle down for a breather with a game of cricket, a dance and some good company. It annoys me when people call this story inconsequential and unimportant just because it doesn’t have the extinction of the dinosaurs or the Great Fire of London, the events in this story are just as important as those, they are essential to see because we finally get to understand why the companions travel with the Doctor. It is crucial to have a little human drama in each season of Doctor Who, a constant reminder that although we are dealing with Cybermen and Terileptils, there are also stories about people to be told just as effectively, actually probably more effectively because the costumes and reality do not let them down. The first episode of Black Orchid is practically flawless in this respect; so utterly different from episode four of The Visitation it highlights the shows possibilities very well. 

And I must congratulate the wonderful Sarah Sutton for her extreme theatrical performance as Ann. What a beauty! Terrance Keenan recently said he wasn’t fond of Nyssa because she was boring and here we have a choice opportunity to see just how terrible she could have been! Ann is the exact opposite, childish, emotional, a real wimp; she delights in the unexpected and enjoys playing around with people. Fabulous for one story but could you see her in all the others of this season, I think not! In the opposite corner you have Nyssa cultured, a bit spunky (I love the bit where she cons Adric and jumps into the Charleston) and funny (“What a very silly activity!”). She screams a bit too but she is faced with a disfigured man and a blazing fire so I guess we can give her that one. And Sutton plays both to the hilt, truly finding her place in the show by this point. 

The other performances are all highly engaging with particular praise for that ‘tip top’ chappie Michael Cochrane as Charles. His dialogue may be hugely mannered (“Ripping performance old chap, come over to the house and meet the Mater!”) but he has an energy and smiliness about him that wins you over completely. His dashing hurry to rescue Nyssa by scaling the walls of the house is stupid but heroic. 

Barbara Murray and Moray Watson both excel as Lady Cranleigh and Sir Robert, never less than one hundred percent convincing. It is their astonishingly mature performances and the period atmosphere that puts me in mind of the Hartnell historicals and this is in turn just as compelling as they were. Shame it never led to any more pure historicals but it is a nice reminder all the same. 

Black Orchid remains a favourite of mine, a Davison story that refuses to outstay its welcome and at two parts doesn’t feel as if it requires more time either. It has a beginning, a middle and an end plus a tiny coda that adds to the realism of the piece. Despite having the worst delivery of any line in the entire Doctor Who canon which still causes a spontaneous burst of laughter from myself and any who might be watching (in this case Simon when Tegan bursts “You are in for a surprise!”). Davison may let the side down but there is lots in the story’s favour, the atmosphere, the sting in the tail, the realistic companions, the production…for that one fault it is still my favourite story of the Davison era. 

A historical gem.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Castrovalva' has of course much in common with 'Logopolis'. For one thing it follows on directly from Baker's swansong, and for another outgoing script editor Christopher H. Bidmead also pens it. More importantly, like 'Logopolis', 'Castrovalva' boasts a great central concept, but suffers somewhat from padding in Episodes One and Two. Unlike 'Logopolis' however, the padding in 'Castrovalva' is somewhat better.

The first two episodes of 'Castrovalva' essentially serve to properly introduce the new TARDIS crewmembers, including the new Doctor. In order to do this, Bidmead effectively traps the Doctor, Tegan and Nyssa in the TARDIS and puts them in an increasingly worsening situation; the Doctor's new personality unfolds as he explores the TARDIS in search of sanctuary, and Tegan and Nyssa's characters are really allowed to develop as they are forced to cope without him whilst he recuperates. This works reasonably well overall, largely because of Peter Davison. With the daunting task of replacing Tom Baker, in the eyes of many people perhaps the definitive Doctor, John Nathan-Turner's decision to cast a very different actor in the role is, in retrospect, the only sensible thing he could have done. The twenty-nine year old Davison is certainly strikingly different to Baker in appearance, and over the course of 'Castrovalva' he rises to the challenge of making the role his own. 'Castrovalva' is often criticized for being the first debut story in which it takes the entire length of the story for the new Doctor's personality to settle down; in fact, by the time the Doctor wakes up from a night's sleep in Castrovalva in Episode Three, his personality is pretty much established, the last side effects of his regeneration being occasional dizzy spells. The characteristics of the new Doctor are thus largely evident by this point; often described (often perhaps derogatively) as "nice", he seems to take much more wonder in his surroundings than his often cynical or flippant previous incarnation, and this is made nicely highlighted in scenes such as when he delights at finding celery in Castrovalva ("Definitely civilization!") and when the young girl inadvertently makes him remember Adric. This latter scene also demonstrates one of the other key characteristics of this Doctor, which his is ability to suddenly focus on a problem with considerable intensity; despite a brief lapse in his strength at the end of Episode Three, it is his realization that Adric is missing that prompts him to concentrate on the problem of Castrovalva, and he doesn't visibly relax again after that point until Castrovalva has collapsed and he and his companions are jogging back to the TARDIS. What is also notable is Davison's ability to create an air of fierce intelligence about the Doctor that gives an impression of wisdom far beyond his years, and this I think is the basis of the feeling that the Fifth Doctor is an old man in a young man's body sometimes ascribed to Davison's performance. 

The character of the new Doctor, whilst not fully established until the story reaches Castrovalva itself, is nevertheless developed over the first two episodes; initially hugely erratic, the Doctor's personality is undefined early on, with Davison getting a chance to flex his acting skills by briefly impersonating his four predecessors. Once the Doctor enters the Zero Room, we get the first proper glimpse of his new persona, and this is scene sporadically throughout Episode Two. By placing the TARDIS in danger, Bidmead creates a situation in which the Doctor is forced to struggle against post regenerative stress, and his almost frantic concentration on reaching the TARDIS control room in a wheelchair is an early indicator of the intense focus that he is capable, as mentioned above. But despite this, he nevertheless spends most of Episodes One and Two in a considerably weakened state, and with Adric a prisoner of the Master this allows Bidmead instead to focus on Tegan and Nyssa. Following the events of 'Logopolis', it is likely that Tegan and Nyssa would be suffering considerable grief, Tegan having just lost her Aunt and Nyssa having lost, well, everything. Rather than dwelling unduly on this and risking turning the series into a soap opera, Bidmead piles crises on top of the pair of them, forcing them to cope first with the Doctor's ill health, and secondly with the TARDIS' impending doom, thus giving them something to focus on. This brings out the best in both companions, and shows how effective they can be in the absence of Adric. Thrown together by really rather strange circumstances, they quickly become a team, Nyssa's gentle, analytical nature in sharp contrast to Tegan's more hotheaded, instinctive, and ultimately more confident character. The two thus complement each other surprisingly well. This becomes evident when it is realized that Episodes One and Two contain a vast amount of expository dialogue between the pair of them, especially at the end of Episode One, but the relationship between the characters is such that it seems reasonably natural for them to be explaining the plot to each other. With Nyssa's scientific knowledge and Tegan's natural tendency to take charge of a given situation, they thus carry the first half of the story between them.

The relative merits of an actor are largely down to subjective opinion; I've never had a problem with either Janet Fielding or Sarah Sutton, but I can only agree with Matthew Waterhouse's detractors, and it is here that he really starts to grate. Waterhouse is diabolical as Adric from start to finish, his angst whilst trapped in the Master's web embarrassing to behold. He is utterly unable to successfully convey either anguish or rage, and he is cringe-worthy throughout; the scene in which he tries to convince the Master that he has switched side is woeful and it beggars belief that the Master would fall for it. Anthony Ainley meanwhile is variable here; after the destruction of the Master's credibility at the end of 'Logopolis', the character partially redeems himself here, his obsession with destroying the Doctor through the most elaborate and humiliating means entirely in keeping with the Master's past motivations. Yet Ainley is given some dreadful dialogue, mostly when talking to Adric ("I'll burn through your barrier, boy!") and although he tackles it reasonably well, he's often horribly tacky in the first two episodes, especially his ghastly pantomime cackling on the scanner screen at the end of Episode One. He is far better in the last two episodes and plays the Portreeve rather well, again demonstrating, as when he played Tremas that his shortcomings as the Master are partially due to interference from the production team. Once he unmasks in Episode Four, he's quite good, his gloating and his desperate need to see the Doctor one last time before he destroys him played with reasonable conviction and an air of suppressed frustration. His final moments in 'Castrovalva' however are simply awful, as he repeatedly bellows "My web!!!" in over the top fashion. Nevertheless, he's far better than he was in 'Logopolis', his ludicrous malevolent chuckling kept to the barest minimum.

The real strength of 'Castrovalva' is the concept of the town itself, a continuation of the idea of Block Transfer Computation first scene in the previous story. The ending to Episode Three is superb, as the Doctor, Tegan and Nyssa start to discover the truth about the "dwellings of simplicity", and the M. C. Escher inspired nature of the town is revealed by a shot through the Doctor's window. The real strength of the concept however lies in the supporting characters, as the Castrovalvans are gradually convinced of their true, artificial nature. The Castrovalvans get some great lines, most notably Derek Waring's Shardovan; his understanding of the problem with the history of Castrovalva is a key moment and the character's realization of his origins is a powerful moment, eventually summarized by the great line "You made us man of evil, but we are free!" and his ensuing sacrifice. By making Shardovan, Michael Sheard's Mergrave, and Frank Wylie's Ruther such well realized and likeable characters, Bidmead is able to increase the impact of the discovery that they have all been created by Adric and the Master. The scene in which the Doctor asks them to point out specific locations on a rough map of Castrovalva works very well, because their unsettled responses to what he is trying to show them begin to demonstrate that for all that they are fictional creations of a madman they are people in their own right. This makes the truth about Castrovalva all the more poignant. 

The direction of 'Castrovalva' plays a large part in its success. Fiona Cummings wrings an impressive amount of drama out of a rather wordy script, and the cliffhanger ending to Episode One is very dramatic despite the fact that it consists of Tegan and Nyssa explaining what is happening in raised voices whilst the Master guffaws on the scanner screen. The realization of Castrovalva's collapsing space at the end of Episode Three is decently achieved, although it does look rather dated now. Paddy Kingsland's incidental score helps considerably, enhancing the tension when required but also creating a relaxed atmosphere during the initial scenes on the planet housing Castrovalva. The costumes of the Castrovalvans also look great, be they the elaborate hunting garb of Mergrave and Ruther or the day-to-day clothing of the townspeople. Having said that, the Portreeve's hat is absurd and could be taken as far more conclusive evidence of the Master's lunacy than anything seen in 'Logopolis'. The sets used for Castrovalva are impressive, and surprisingly well lit to resemble natural light, something of a rarity during Doctor Who in the eighties. This means that the studio sets feel more in keeping with the location footage than usual, although on this occasion the location footage is perhaps not the bonus that it usually is; whilst it looks nice enough, the scenes of Tegan and Nyssa transporting the Zero Cabinet across the landscape feel like an excuse to pad out five minutes of air time and make Episode Two drag somewhat. 

In summary, 'Castrovalva' is flawed and occasionally feels like it is treading water, especially during the first half, but manages to impress nonetheless. As an introduction for the new Doctor and as a means of tying up plot threads from 'Logopolis' it works perfectly well and prepares the way for the new season.

When 'Resurrection of the Daleks' was first broadcast I was six and half years old. I still remember the feeling of anticipation as I sat down with my parents on a Wednesday evening to see the Daleks in action properly for the first time. It was exciting at the time, and images of the Dalek being pushed out of the warehouse window, the Dalek mutant attacking a soldier, and Daleks spraying white foam as they died stayed with me for years. With no Target novelisation to refresh memory of the story, 'Resurrection of the Daleks' attained a rose tinted glow in my memory. And then it was released on video and the disappointment was almost crushing. My opinion now is that 'Resurrection of the Daleks' is a well-directed, visually impressive story, but is fundamentally flawed by an inconsistent plot, poor acting, and what appears to be an attempt by Eric Saward to create an "adult" feel for the series. 

The plot of 'Resurrection of the Daleks' is a mess. The idea of the Daleks needing to rescue Davros in order to cure the Movellan virus is essentially sound, but it creaks beneath the weight of a mass of other poorly developed ideas. Even the importance of Davros is inconsistently addressed; initially, the Supreme Dalek makes plain the vital importance of securing Davros' help to ensure the survival of the Dalek race, announcing at one point that "Without Davros we have no future". It is for this reason that they are prepared to humour him when he insists on staying aboard his space station prison and demands Daleks to experiment on. The problem is, this rather falls apart during Episode Four when the Supreme Dalek realises that Davros has taken control of two Daleks and decides to have him exterminated. So do they need him or not? Earlier dialogue implies that they are in danger of extinction without him, but when he unsurprisingly tries to gain power they seem to decide to cut their loses with ludicrous speed. 

Then there are the other subplots. The Daleks apparently want to invade Gallifrey, which is not an implausible motivation for them, but seems very poorly timed considering the state they are in; not only are they on the verge of extinction, they are so weakened that they are forced to employ human (or at least humanoid) mercenaries in the shape of their "Dalek Troopers". It's a bit like Hitler suddenly deciding that it would be a good idea to launch an attack on America during his last hours in the bunker before he died. It seems as though Saward suddenly decided that he needed a reason for the Daleks to want to capture the Doctor alive and added it to his script at the last minute. And mention of the Doctor's capture brings me to one of the most gaping plot holes in the script, in the unlikely form of the duplicates. 

Leaving aside the fact that my criticisms of the Daleks' intention to invade Gallifrey are equally applicable to their intention to invade Earth, the duplicates make no sense whatsoever. They are essentially clones, which have been given the thought patterns of the originals and then subjected to mind control. So why not just subject the originals to mind control? Their control techniques don't work properly anyway, so what do they gain by duplicating people? Stein's character makes this painfully obvious, since he spends several scenes in Episode One in obvious terror even when alone; Episode Four's exploitation of the fact that the duplicates are unstable explains this, but even so the cliffhanger to Episode Two just seems painfully contrived as he suddenly reveals that he's a Dalek agent. There are other problems too; the Daleks' decision to hide the Movellan virus on Earth in the past doesn't hold up to much scrutiny whether it's a lure or not. They obviously have adequate enough containment facilities to allow Davros to work on it onboard their ship (their original intention before he refuses to leave the space station), so why go to such extraordinary lengths as to hide it in an old warehouse on an alien planet in another time zone? Stein's claim that the cylinders were a lure is a flimsy excuse at best; he claims that it brought soldiers to the area so that they could be duplicated and thus guard the warehouse. But they only need to guard the warehouse because they've hidden the Movellan virus in it, and Lytton's policemen seem to be doing that perfectly well anyway once they arrive. As a lure for the Doctor, it makes even less sense, since it was the time corridor that primarily attacked his attention, and they are using that anyway to place duplicates throughout Earth's history. 

Then we have the horribly tacky appearance of the Supreme Dalek on the TARDIS scanner at the end, as though it can simply give the Doctor a 'phone call whenever it feels like it, and which seems like nothing more than a rushed attempt to tie up the loose end of the duplicates as quickly as possible. There is also the poor continuity; whilst continuity should never be more important than the story (at least insofar as established characters are not suddenly and unexpectedly given handy new abilities), it is still irritating that a story so reliant on established continuity gets it wrong. The classic example is Davros' mind control device, which he certainly didn't have in 'Destiny of the Daleks' and although it's possible that he had the chance to build it whilst he was awaiting trial on Earth, it seems very unlikely. But above all, my main criticism of 'Resurrection of the Daleks' is what I assume to be Eric Saward's attempt to make the story more "adult" by going all grim and gritty. I don't mind adult and I don't mind grim, but Saward's approach is simply to stack up the body count. It is what an adolescent might believe to be adult and it doesn't work because, as in 'Earthshock', the characters Saward kills off are not sufficiently well characterised for me to give a toss about any of them. Thus, the deaths of Mercer, Styles, Archer and his men, Galloway, the space station crew, and Lytton's troopers have no impact whatsoever. By Episode Four, the death toll has reached such proportions that Saward simply seems to be killing off characters whom he hastily introduced and can't think of anything useful to do with them. 

Weak though much of the characterisation of the supporting characters is, the acting often doesn't help. Del Henney is wooden as Archer and his duplicate, and of course he puts in a deeply embarrassing and over the top death scene. Chloe Ashcroft is little better as the strangely unlikable Professor Laird, and Les Grantham is terrible in his television debut. But by far the worst performance is by Jim Findley as Mercer, whose performance is both stilted and wooden throughout; his acting in this story revolves almost entirely around raising his voice and sounding a bit angry regardless of the situation Mercer finds himself in. Mind you, even he seems quite good in Episode One by comparison with the speaking extras; as the Daleks invade the station he tells the crew that it is every man for himself, and two extras can be heard exclaiming "Oh no!" and "Every man for himself?" in a way that sounds so bad it is almost funny. 

But for all that it might be tempting to write off 'Resurrection of the Daleks' as a load of old cobblers, it does get some things right. For one thing, it looks great; Matthew Robinson's direction is first rate and it is helped considerably by the always-welcome location work and some excellent sets that have aged surprisingly well. The emergence of the Daleks through the airlock door in Episode One is a great moment and highly memorable and the new Dalek props look far better than the tatty relics seen in 'Destiny of the Daleks'. In the same season that saw 'Warriors of the Deep', 'Resurrection of the Daleks' is also very well lit, and this creates a grim and gritty air far more effectively than Saward's insistence on mass slaughter. Malcolm Clarke's doom laden incidental score is also crucial to creating the gritty atmosphere. And despite its addition to the body count, even I must admit that the makeup used to show the crewmembers succumbing to the Daleks' lethal gas attack is very, very good. The costumes are also reasonably good, the worn uniforms of the run down and unenthusiastic space station crew contrasting nicely with the smarter militaristic uniforms of the Dalek Troopers. Unfortunately, the incredibly silly and slightly phallic helmets worn by the troopers slightly detracts from the overall effect, but this is a minor criticism. 

There are also a few good performances on display. Maurice Colbourne's Lytton is a commanding figure, and his ruthlessness means that he works well despite the fact that he is essentially a henchman, despite Saward's obvious love for the character. Former Likely Lad Rodney Bewes is very good as Stein, his performance switching from nervous and stammering coward to cold and ruthless mercenary as he tries to keep up with the eccentric characterisation he has to work with. And then there is Terry Molloy.

Molloy's performance as Davros both here and in subsequent stories is something of a bone of contention. Davros has become a ranting madman here and this annoys many fans, but his increased megalomania and his decreased stability makes sense to me considering that he has been trapped, immobile but fully conscious, for ninety years; I challenge anyone to cope with that without becoming unhinged, and Davros was insane in the first place. Molloy does shout quite a bit, but he also makes use of quite malevolence, and Davros comes across as calculating and intelligent. After David Gooderson's brave but unsuccessful attempt to impersonate Michael Wisher's unsurpassable performance, Molloy wisely elects to make the role his own, and Davros works well for it. As soon as he is released, his mind is clearly working to turn his new situation to his own advantage, and it is worth noting that until the Movellan virus attacks his chair at the end, he gets his own way throughout. True, he doesn't get to kill the Doctor, but he does regain his freedom, get access to the Movellan virus and Dalek tissue samples, and prepare an escape pod (which of course he also manages to use, as revealed in 'Revelation of the Daleks'). 

I find the Doctor's confrontation with Davros especially interesting. It has often been criticized because it makes the Doctor look racist, since he can't bring himself to kill the humanoid Davros but he can happily destroy the Daleks. This is perhaps true, but it also makes sense; the Doctor's inability to look Davros in the eye and shoot him is consistent with his character. Indeed the Doctor has often dispatched opponents through various indirect means rather than actually looking them in the eye and killing them, and we need only consider his relationship with the Master to see that his moral stance on killing is largely variable. On the other hand, his willingness to kill Daleks equally make sense; long experience has no doubt made him realize that the Daleks might be an intelligent species, but they are also exclusively hostile and destructive (and indeed he seems to regret having failed to destroy them in 'Genesis of the Daleks', as he tells Tegan that he once blew his chance to wipe them out and doesn't intend to repeat his mistake). It is no surprise to me whatsoever that the Doctor seems to consider Davros a person (however evil) but not the Daleks. 

In addition, the confrontation between them works well for Davros' character. His attempt to argue rationally with the Doctor by asserting that "the universe is at war" and that by conquering it he can bring piece picks up on his motivation from 'Genesis of the Daleks'. He seems to genuinely believe this, whereas the Master for example seems to be motivated instead by a vague desire for personal power. Davros also seems to have insight into the Doctor's personality, which is an indicator of how intelligent he is; his attempt to persuade the Doctor that he can restore compassion to the Daleks very briefly causes the Doctor to hesitate and gives Davros more time to talk. His offer of an alliance is clearly a further delaying tactic; whereas the Master has in the past genuinely sought an alliance with the Doctor ('Colony in Space') and frequently finds excuses not to kill his old enemy, Davros is clearly simply talking to preserve his life and there is little doubt that he will kill the Doctor there and then if he gets the chance (as a matter of interest, there is a deleted line on the DVD in which he says that the Doctor is not, in his own way, an unambitious man, further suggesting that whilst he dislikes the Doctor he does have some understanding of him - significantly, the Doctor waits for him to continue when he says this). By the time he finishes talking, it is clear that the moment has passed for the Doctor and that he won't pull the trigger; obviously realizing this, Davros then proceeds to express his disgust at the Doctor's lack of moral conviction. 

The problem with this scene however, is that it is virtually the only one that the Doctor does anything worth mentioning in. For the rest of the story, he wanders around the warehouse, or gets strapped to a table for an episode, and by the end he has achieved little; it is Stein who blows up the space station and the Dalek ship, Davros' ambiguous fate is unaffected by the Doctor's actions, and he certainly doesn't manage to save any lives. True, he gives Stein a lift back to the Dalek ship, which allows him to trigger the self-destruct sequence, but this is hardly impressive, and neither is his destruction of about three Daleks in the warehouse with the Movellan virus. Turlough also does little except wander around and hide from Daleks and Troopers; in fact his best scene wasn't even broadcast. An extended scene on the DVD release shows him seriously contemplating fleeing the Dalek ship even though Tegan has just pointed out the Doctor needs rescuing, and this tiny sequence captures says more about his character far better than anything that actually made it to the broadcast version does. Both Davison and Strickson put in fine performances, but both get far too little to do. As for Tegan, she spends most of her last story in bed with concussion. She gets a superb leaving scene, which makes sense both in the context of the story and the season as a whole, and Janet Fielding puts in one last great performance as Tegan tearfully bids an abrupt goodbye to her friends, conveying the feeling that she is absolutely at the end of her tether. The death of the old man on the shore of the Thames is ironically one of the few deaths that have much impact on the story, because the sheer callousness of his murder and the futility of his death obviously makes an impact on Tegan. For the longest serving companion of Peter Davison's era however, I would have hoped for so much better. 

And that sums up 'Resurrection of the Daleks'; it has so much potential, but most of it is wasted. Sadly, several years after the video release, the disappointment still hasn't gone away.

After the badly plotted and ill thought out 'The King's Demons', 'The Awakening' (which is also essentially filler material) demonstrates how to make perfect use of the two-episode format. It is a well-paced, compact little story with enough of a plot to fit its duration without trying to be over ambitious. The idea of an ancient alien menace awakening within the church of a sleepy English village is of course recycled from 'The Dжmons' (as is the exploding church at the climax and the idea of a village sealed off from the outside), but 'The Awakening' uses the concept very effectively. The Malus is an alien war machine sent to clear the way for an invasion that never came; feeding on psychic energy, it is reawakened after being buried under the church of Little Hodcombe for centuries, whereupon it seizes control of local magistrate Sir George Hutchinson and uses him to set about generating the psychic energy it needs to revive fully and complete its programme. The war games are its means of doing this, and after the Doctor uses the TARDIS to stop it feeding on psychic energy from the village and Sir George is killed, it realises it has failed and self-destructs in last ditch attempt to clear the area. It is a very economical plot, but one that works extremely well; the Malus provides a memorable monster, Sir George provides a human villain, and there is plenty for the rest of the supporting cast to do. 

Part of the success of 'The Awakening' is that it is often very creepy. The ominous crack in the church wall builds suspense from the start, as smoke starts to pour from it and it gradually widens over the course of Episode One. The disfigured beggar, revealed to be a psychic projection from the past, is also rather sinister, as is the projection of a wizened old man that appears to Tegan. The increasingly dangerous war games further fuel the atmosphere, as it becomes clear that something is very wrong in Little Hodcombe, helped largely by Denis Lill's manic performance as the unhinged Sir George. Will's terrified account of seeing the Malus builds nicely towards the Episode One cliffhanger, and once the Malus itself appears it works very well. For one thing the large prop of the Malus' face is very impressive, and the fact that it seems irrefutably malevolent without actually speaking is to the credit of scriptwriter Eric Pringle. The smaller prop of the Malus projected into the TARDIS is equally sinister, and on a personal note I rather like getting the chance to see what the whole creature looks like, since it remains buried beneath the church except for its face. 

The acting throughout is exemplary, from Denis Lill's Sir George, to Glyn Houston's thoroughly likeable Colonel Wolsey, and Polly James very slightly eccentric Jane Hampden. Special mention must go to Keith Jayne as Will Chandler however; the character is very well scripted, and Jayne tackles the period dialogue very convincingly. Will's angst at killing Sir George is superb; so terrified is he by the Malus and the evil wreaked via Sir George that even he Doctor doesn't chide him for pushing Hutchinson into the Malus' jaws. The regulars too do very well out of such a short story; the presence of Tegan's grandfather results in predictably response when she discovers that he is missing, and leads to a rather charming final scene in which the Doctor is gently coerced into agreeing to stay in Little Hodcombe for a while. I always rather like any suggestion that the TARDIS crew has had time to relax and have fun, since it makes it easier to believe that the Doctor's companions are willing to endure so much stress with him. Davison is great in this scene, petulantly complaining that he's had a hard day, but suspiciously easily convinced to stay and relax for a bit… In fact the Fifth Doctor is magnificent here; after the futile bloodbath of 'Warriors of the Deep', here he quickly and efficiently identifies and neutralizes the threat of the Malus with relatively little bloodshed. Turlough also gets a surprising amount to do, and Pringle captures the character well; he takes action when it is essential to do so (such as when he and Verney knock out Willow and his associate from behind), but prioritizes his own safety over reckless heroism. 

The production is exemplary; the sets are astonishingly good, especially the ruined church which never looks like a mere studio set. The sets also complement the luscious location filming beautifully. Peter Howell's incidental music captures the pseudo-historical mood perfectly, and Michael Owen Morris directs the story with modest skill. 'The Awakening' is one of the finest examples of the two-part Doctor Who story and is an impressive addition to Season Twenty-One.