This is another one of my favorite adventures and the placement of this particular two-part episode, being in-between the first Dalek adventure and the first proper historical adventure, couldn't be more appropriate.

In various sci-fi programs that involve travelling to different planets there are usually instances when the action is confined to a starship or the base from which they venture out to different worlds. In the case of this particular program, it is the TARDIS. These are usually referred to as 'bottle' episodes. Making these types of episodes serves a number of unique purposes; it helps cut down on expenses used on developing extravagant set pieces or of going on location for filming and production, it also makes the sense of mystery, dread and impending doom much more focused, thus making the atmosphere quite claustrophobic, and it also provides great opportunities for character development. All of this is achieved to exceptional effect in 'Edge of Destruction'. 

In the opening scene we see the crew of the TARDIS knocked out by a mysterious force. Upon regaining consciousness, each of them become dazed and slightly disoriented but they each instinctively know that something isn't right. The fact that so many strange occurrences take place that don't make any logical sense enhances the viewer's lack of knowledge regarding space travel as well as time travel and about the unknown forces that may exist. It also showcases that there is still a great deal we don't know about the TARDIS itself. When you consider how early this is in the show's history as well as in the travels of the main characters, this adventure allows us to share in their confusion and lack of understanding, as they don't know what's going on within the ship any more than we do.

This two-part adventure also showcases the exceptional talents of all four cast members. This is especially true as during the course of the two episodes a line is drawn in the sand between the two alien time travellers and the regular humans. 

Carol Ann Ford showcases a great range as she tries to come to grips with what is happening, and in her disorientation becomes highly suspicious of the two people she had held in the same admiration and respect as her own grandfather. The way Susan goes from calm and serene to murderously psychotic and paranoid to utter despair is utterly brilliant. 

But the true standouts are definitely William Hartnell and Jacqueline King. The hard felt animosity the Doctor has held for Ian and Barbara reaches its boiling point. During the last two adventures he has had to put up with two irritating strangers that had forced their way onto his ship and had time and again had the utter audacity to try and tell him what to do with his own life. Not to mention having to deal with their constant pestering over things they could never hope to understand, especially considering that he really doesn't feel at all obligated to explain things to people who are far from being his equals on any sort of level. It is this very thought that drives his utter refusal to believe or even consider any of Barbara's theories (at least at first), especially the most important one: that the TARDIS herself was trying to give them vital clue to help them figure a way out of their predicament. This is especially true considering that the Doctor (at this point in time) doesn't want to think that someone of such limited intelligence and comprehension could understand his ship better than he can. This in itself also drives home something that the Doctor doesn't even want to admit; that he doesn't fully understand how his ship works either. Of course, the Doctor being a scientist makes his conclusions and accusations based on hard facts. He accused Ian and Barbara of foul play because to him, it seemed the only logical explanation despite the inherent illogical nature behind the basis of the accusation. 

Barbara shows strength of character and obvious venom as she stands up to the indignant and cantankerous old man for daring to accuse her and Ian of trying to cause the Doctor and Susan harm, and of trying to sabotage the ship. She basically showcases that she was not about to be bullied by the likes of him, even going so far as to remind him that it was she and Ian that saved his and Susan's lives (not once, but twice), in addition that it was the Doctor's fault that they were captured by the Daleks in the first place. 

The resulting revelation of where the TARDIS had been trying to materialize in (the Big Bang) is very much well written, and the further revelation of the reason why the ship was stuck in the one particular loop of time is both humorous and a bit ironic. Because despite how technologically sophisticated the TARDIS is, the irony comes from the simple fact that something as trivial and seemingly insignificant as a stuck spring could throw all of the systems into disarray. 

'Edge of Destruction' also work well as the first of many turning points within the entirety of the series itself. This marks the turning point in which the foursome within the ship go from unwilling travellers and unwanted annoyances to a group of very good friends, almost like a family, with more respect and admiration for one another than ever before. This also marks a turning point in the characterization of the Doctor, especially in the final scene where he goes to make amends with Barbara. It is here that marks the beginning of his change from a grumpy old man to a charming and loveable elderly gentleman that he would be throughout William Hartnell's tenure on the show. 

In addition, the line he speaks to her: 'As we learn about each other, so we learn about ourselves' speaks volumes in that the Doctor now has nothing but the highest regard and respect for both her and Ian. It is a bloody shame that their wouldn't be another adventure in this same vein again for this series.

The only way to have a really good hero, is to have an even better villain. George Lucas knew it, and Verity Lambert knew it. When Terry Nation gave birth to his maniacal little salt and pepper shakers he literally, and figuratively, created a monster. Dalek-mania swept Britain, children ran through the street screaming "Exterminate", and even the most muggle among Britons knew what a Dalek was. But was it really any good? 

Frankly… kind of. The seamless mixture of live action and model shots alone should get this one special honors in the Doctor Who hall of fame. The story itself wasn't original by any means. Wells' "The Time Machine" had mined this material the previous century. Even so, it was fresh for a TV audience. "The Daleks" was Sci-Fi with an edge. With one cliffhanger, Doctor Who would forever be known as a "scary" show kids had to watch from behind the sofa. Whereas most subsequent Dalek episodes were "War of the Worlds" re-imagined, this one was like that Aliens movie we never got to see. You know the one where Ripley gets stuck on the Alien Homeworld and has to go into the heart of their hive to retrieve Jonesy whose inadvertently eaten the one thing she needs in order to get home. Throw in a pinch of indigenous freedom fighters trying to survive in a petrified forest, and you've got the scope of this yarn. 

Unfortunately, this was also the birth of two not-so-cool Doctor Who traditions. Caves and corridors. For the bulk of the "The Survivors" and "The Escape", the time travelers are in and out of more corridors than even the Nimon could stand. Then there are the impossibly arduous cave sequences that span the most appropriately named episode of the series: "The Ordeal". What we end up with is a few snoozer episodes right in the middle of a would-be classic. And what's up with Barbara and Antodus? I mean we're barely off Totter's Lane and she's chattin' up the first blond specimen that grunts her way. This story isn't as good as people think, but it isn't as bad as it feels. "Groundbreaking" and "painfully padded" can both be used accurately, which is perfect for a story about the diametrically opposed forces on post-war Skaro.

I'd venture to suggest that 'The Three Doctors' is worse than in its immediate predecessor, except that I might get lynched; certainly, I find 'The Time Monster' easier to sit through. I was going to start by describing what I like about this story, but I couldn't really think of anything. So I'll start with the least negative thing I can think of.

The interaction between the different incarnations of the Doctor is of course the main selling point of 'The Three Doctors'. It is unfortunate that William Hartnell was in such poor health by this time that he has a very minor role, appearing only on the TARDIS scanner. I'm certainly not churlish enough to criticize Hartnell for being terminally ill, and I'm glad that he got the opportunity to play a role in a story celebrating the anniversary of the series the success of which he was instrumental in establishing. Whilst Hartnell's health means that the First Doctor is a mere shadow of his former self, there are brief glimpses of the indomitable old character from his era, and this is probably my favourite aspect of 'The Three Doctors'.

The other two Doctors however, are rather less entertaining than they should be. Troughton seems incapable of putting in a bad performance, so I suspect the problems with his performance here stem from the script, which reduce his Doctor to a caricature. Try and recall the Doctor who appeared in 'The Evil of the Daleks', 'The Tomb of the Cybermen', 'The Seeds of Death', or 'The War Games' and compare him with the Second Doctor here; the Second Doctor's fierce intelligence and palpable sense of urgency during times of danger are played down here so that his clown-like characteristics can be brought to the fore. Possibly Baker and Martin feel the need to pigeonhole him into the description ascribed to him by the First Doctor in their script, but the result is a Second Doctor who is in most ways watered down, and in one or two others grossly exaggerated. His constant prattling about his recorder annoys me just as much as it annoys Omega. 

Unfortunately, Pertwee isn't much better here either. As in 'The Time Monster', he seems to be on autopilot, and for the second story in a row this results in a threat to the entire universe being woefully underplayed. A good example is during the Third Doctor's scenes with Omega before his previous incarnation turns up; presumably, the Doctor is both humouring Omega and also suffering slightly from the fact that he is overawed at meeting a legend. Sadly, Pertwee fails to convey this and instead the Doctor just gives the impression that he's wondering when Omega will get around to offering him a cup of tea. As with 'The Time Monster', compare this with the Doctor's sense of urgency in 'The Dжmons', which despite being another story of which I'm none to fond, does demonstrate how well Pertwee can portray urgency and a sense of impending doom. The actual interaction between the Doctors has some merit, but personally I only find it interesting when they are cooperating; the bickering between the Second and Third Doctors seems to give Troughton and Pertwee their cue to start hamming their parts up. 

So that's the Doctor's out of the way; let's move onto the villain. Omega is potentially a rather sympathetic villain, who is clearly shown by the script to have been driven insane by millennia of solitude. In practice however, he's an over-the-top pantomime villain, thanks to Stephen Thorne's painfully unsubtle performance. Especially cringe-worthy is his bellowing cry of "Whaaaaaaat?!" when he discovers that the Doctors have escaped. When Omega is in jovial mood, Thorne sounds as though he's reading his lines for the first time and has had time to practice. When he's angry, he just sounds melodramatic without actually being convincing. I noticed on this occasion in particular just how stagy the scenes set in Omega's palace actually are, due partly to the sets (the rather tacky walls contrast unpleasantly with a bare studio floor), and the fact that Thorne gives the impression throughout that he is concentrating very hard on spotting his next cue. 

Then we have the Time Lords. There are two ways to demystify the all-powerful Time Lords first seen in 'The War Games'. The first is to present them as a thoroughly corrupt race of politicians as Robert Holmes does later in 'The Deadly Assassin'. The second is to have them portrayed by wooden actors spouting stilted dialogue in a day-glow nightmare of a set. Roy Purcell is especially dire as the President. And there's very little else to say about them.

What of the other regulars? Katy Manning is as good as ever, but Jo is present purely so that the presence of two Doctors can be explained in very laboured fashion. She does very little else here. She also plays a role in another cringe-worthy moment, after the Doctors have conjured up a door in the cell in Omega's palace. Again demonstrating the complete lack of anything approaching dramatic tension in this story, she and Benton are the last to leave after the Doctors and Tyler. Rather than rushing quickly out of their prison, they laugh about the others having all the fun and jog casually through the door. Nice to know they aren't worried about the prospect of universal Armageddon then… Benton is generally OK here, and I'm extremely grateful that with all the rubbish present here we are spared the addition of Mike Yates. However, Benton gets another terrible moment, in the TARDIS in episode one; the Second Doctor appears, the two Doctors start arguing and trying to explain the situation to Jo. Benton remains silent for a couple of minutes and then suddenly exclaims "Doctor! Where did you spring from?", as he greets the Second Doctor. This is again an example of bad scripting and sloppy direction, as it rather makes it appear that he has been waiting for his cue and has missed it because he hasn't been paying attention. And then there's the Brigadier…

By 'The Three Doctors' the Brigadier's character has reached an all time low. The intelligent military leader of Season Seven is long gone and has been replaced by an imbecile. The exaggerated coziness of the "UNIT family" has become so absurd here that Lethbridge-Stewart is reduced to a comic foil. Benton, one of the Brigadier's subordinates, has no problem understanding the events taking place around him, accepting two Doctors and the transportation of UNIT headquarters with ease. The Brigadier on the other hand understands nothing, presumably because Baker and Martin mistakenly think that this makes for a witty time for the viewer. In short, the Brigadier seems far less intelligent than his sergeant, which cheapens his character enormously. He's also lost the considerable air of authority that he once had, now seeming petulant rather than commanding when he orders Benton to search for Tyler for example. 

I've mentioned this briefly already, but the script is diabolical. It is almost inconceivable that a story a mere four episodes long and featuring three Doctors could feel padded, and yet this is the case here. In episode four, as the various humans captured by Omega return home, we get a very tedious few minutes as they step one by one into the column of smoke. They could have been transported by a wave of Omega's hand, or stepped into the column as a group, but instead we get unnecessary prevarication in order to pad out the episode. In episode one, the explanation of how there are suddenly two Doctors present is both laboured and strangely over-complicated. This is not a complex issue at its most basic level, and based on the model of time travel adopted by the series; if you could travel in time, you could meet your younger self. Explaining regeneration is perhaps more difficult, but the Brigadier seemed to cope with it well enough in 'Spearhead from Space'. Here, we get a very tiresome and drawn-out interchange as the Doctors try and explain things to Jo, and therefore the viewers. It feels extremely patronizing and contributes to the feeling that 'The Three Doctors' is padded. Episode Two is even more padded, achieving little except to offer a cliffhanger very similar to that of Episode One, but on a slightly larger scale. And speaking of cliffhangers, the fight scene at the end of Episode Three is one of the worst in the series to date. 

There are only two supporting characters of note; Ollis and Tyler. Ollis is utterly superfluous beyond the opening scenes of episode one, suggesting that Baker and Martin suddenly realized that they were stuck with him and decided to have him tag along with the Brigadier and the others. Tyler is present simply to ask scientific questions to the Doctors, which results in the Doctor explaining things to the audience through Tyler rather than Jo. The entire story is a self-indulgent mess and a poor excuse for a celebration.

There is a very interesting premise at the core of The Face of Evil, more interesting than a computer with a split personality that split up a colony ship into two separate tribes. The Doctor has often been portrayed as a flawed hero but we never really get to see evidence of this (later we would get some definitive evidence in Warriors of the Deep, Terror of the Vervoids…) so to hear him admit that on his last visit he tried to help and misjudged his tinkering (and his ego) is quite a shock. Much like The Ark it is fascinating to set the story long after the Doctor’s first visit and to explore the consequences. Whilst hardly apologetic the Doctor is clearly horrified to see the far-reaching results of his handiwork, you realise just how much of an impact, how much change he has caused when he doesn’t even recognise the planet or the people until the end of the second episode! I love this idea of the Doctor failing, its one of the reason I will take him over James Bond (actually my dream James Bond film would see him fail miserably and be forced to face the consequences just to subvert expectations) anyday because the Doctor can lose and lose spectacularly. A lot of people die in this story and none of it would have happened had the Doctor never visited. Or at least it would not have happened in this way. 

The Face of Evil is an often-ignored story from the treasured season fourteen although it is one that is having something of a renaissance in the twilight years of the series. It is a very clever story from fresh writer Chris Boucher that takes big ideas like God-worship and split personality and applies them thoughtfully to a tale that is low on heart thumping action but scores well with the intellectuals. Hinchcliffe is still taking risks three stories from his departure, most producers would keep it safe and just use writers they can rely on but Hinchcliffe is still drawing fresh talent to the show. A bold but successful step, the script is lively and bursting with hysterical dialogue and clever quips (but then with Robert Holmes lurking in the background this is practically a given). The story is beautifully structured, the first two episodes introduce the main concepts; the mystery of the Doctor’s influence on the planet, the scientific equipment scattered about a primitive colony. After exploring the Sevateem camp the story switches location for the last two episodes into the Tesh ship and introduces the heart of the problem in the memorable third cliffhanger. Because it is a more considerate story than usual it demands more time to deal with its climax, which unusually takes place halfway through the last episode with plenty of time to deal with explanations and the future of the colonists. It’s not a perfect story but you cannot fault the effort that has gone into the writing. 

How bizarre is it to see a companion less Doctor. I am glad they quickly introduced Leela because I don’t think I could have managed a whole story with the Doctor addressing the camera as he does at the beginning of this story (although it is rather fun imagining that you are the companion, that he is addressing you personally!). If the production team had been even braver they would have roughened Leela up even more, had her dirty and dishevelled, like she really lived in the wild. As it is the Dads need some incentive to tune in so Louise Jameson debuts in clean skins looking as thought she has just taken a bath. I can understand the decision to keep her squeaky clean but at least her behaviour and instincts are appropriately feral. 

There is immediate potential with Leela that isn’t apparent with so many companions and you can see instantly what the producer was trying to achieve. Much like Jaime and Victoria there is a lot of scope for having ignorant companions (and I don’t mean that in a derogatory fashion, Jaime and Victoria were companions from the past and Leela is a savage warrior) who require a lot of explanations for the scientific side of things. It allows the writer to feed information to the viewer without the companion looking stupid. But its more than that, I firmly believe the key to good comedy/drama is healthy culture clashing and to pair up an eccentric scientist with a homicidal savage then you have character gold. Maybe Leela wasn’t exploited to the full next year but there were enough wonderful moments where their ideals clash to validate this experimental companion. 

Indeed Louise Jameson’s compelling performance as the naпve savage is one of the highpoints of this story, you can see already the Eliza Doolittle/Proffesor Higgins relationship flowering just how Philip Hinchcliffe wanted. I adore the Doctor and Leela’s first scene together where he offers her a jelly baby and she recoils saying “Its true then! They say the Evil One eats babies!” And they stick close throughout the story, learning the facts of the story together and how Leela learns that her entire belief system is twisted and false is sensitively but firmly handled by the Doctor who refuses to molly-coddle her with the truth. By the end of the story Leela is talking about concepts she didn’t even understand at the beginning and even looking at her own people exactly the same way we saw her at the beginning, thus begins her education. 

Doctor Who and religion are sticky subjects, sometimes a story tackles the subject head on such as in the gripping The Massacre but more often they are background elements (look at the recent Halflife that has a fascinating religious background but is not the centre of the story at all). I was reading a brilliant piece of writing by Douglas Adams recently from his article anthology in The Salmon of Doubt about the existence of an Artificial God. One point he makes wonderfully well is that there are certain ideas you are not allowed to say anything bad about. ‘In the case of an idea’ he says ‘if we think, “Here’s an idea that is protected by holiness” what does it mean?’ It is very brave of him to make this move; to actively critisize religion by comparing it other much debated issues (politics) and reaching the conclusion that the validity of debating about religion is as important as any other. My point is The Face of Evil deals with a heavy religious theme and has the balls to be less than positive about it

It is almost a deconstruction of the God myth, Xoanon is simply a diseased computer with delusions of grandeur but the myth behind this ‘God’ is an extremely powerful and destructive force. It shows how propaganda can lead to a belief system of its own, through Neeva (tricked by Xoanon) the Sevateem are manipulated into fighting and killing on behalf of their ‘God’. And Leela who actively speaks out against Xoanon is threatened with execution and banished from the settlement! It exposes some of the dangers that come with intense religious beliefs and shows you how far people are willing to go in the name of their icon. Even more interestingly the story opens out into religious War, with the two fractured halves of Xoanon’s personality externalised in the Sevateem and the Tesh we see two homicidal factions that dismiss the others beliefs and wish to see their ‘false’ religion stamped out. All very interesting, I suppose the question is how far into exploring religion can a four part SF serial from the 70’s go? Much of what I have discussed here is background information and there to be picked up by those who choose but they will be others who should dismiss my claims and read something else into the story, or even that it has no comments at all to make and is only a rather witty adventure tale. I have no opinion on God one way or the other but I find it fascinating that the story throws religion in such an unforgiving light. I certainly find the religious angle far more interesting than the ‘brains vs brawn’ angle people usually apply to this story. 

What is bloody brilliant is the idea (and realisation) of a savage community with technological equipment scattered around their settlement. The way in which the Sevateem has compartmentalised these objects into their society is very creative. Neeva’s glove headgear is great fun and the close up on the survey ship alloy gong a phenomenal moment.

One huge fault with the story and one that the Hinchcliffe era is so keen to avoid usually is the design. It is a very drab looking story which starts with the sets; the bare and unconvincing jungle set, the sterile corridors of the survey ship, simple hut like dwellings, and reaches through to the costumes; savages in simple leathers (realistic but hardly eye catching), the Tesh in bizarrely camp make up and green quilted uniforms. Even the direction is lacking on occasions, occasionally there is a moment of genius (like the test of the Horda) but sometimes Pennant Roberts sticks to dull perpendicular angles for his fight sequences. It does not please the eye and I find myself bored and wanting some vibrancy (no trouble of that in the next too stories). 

Another massive problem is the third episode; this is another season fourteen story that suffers from the Curse of the third episodes. This instalment seems to comprise of some embarrassingly inefficient laser fights, both is the jungle and in the Tesh ship and a bunch of Manuel-inspired Tesh being civilised and camp with each other. It is not until the unsettling cliffhanger the things pick up where we are finally privy to some explanations. There is nothing wrong with the writing that the direction couldn’t have livened up.

One thing the story gets VERY right is the performances. The Sevateem are played with relish by a bunch of experienced actors and as such come across as a believable and rowdy group. Brendan Price’s Tomas is the token ‘nice guy’ but there is nothing stomach churning about his sensitive performance. David Garfield plays Neeva with the right amount of hypnotic naivetй; I love it when he interrogates the Doctor by waving scientific equipment in his face screaming religious propaganda. But best of the bunch (apart from Louise Jameson of course who flashes some leg and kills a handful at the same time!) is that slimey rattlesnake Calib, in Leslie Schofield’s enigmatic performance you can see a character who is watching every plot twist and seeing how they can twist it to their advantage. 

It is a story that takes the psychological and religious angle over straightforward action adventure but still manages to tell an entertaining story. It is far from flawless (its not exactly the first story you would show a non fan) but there is intelligence to the story that is hard to ignore. Personally I find it a little too dry in places, the direction freezing up too often but I would still bill it as a strong story in its own right and one that manages to push the boundaries far better than the acknowledged and overrated stories that make similar claims (Kinda). 

Just think, the entire universe could just be the manufactured handiwork of a computer with a mental breakdown! Makes you think, doesn’t it…?

It strikes me as odd that director Michael Briant should criticize the script for this story and praise the incidentals that he added to explain its overwhelming success. There are very few Robots-bashers and I am not one of them but there are some flaws in the story that should be addressed to give a more balanced view of the story and alas, poor Michael it is the direction that is most at fault. Don’t get me wrong most of his work is great and he achieves a level of terror and claustrophobia that makes you realise how much to learn some of those early base under siege stories had. 

The story is a terrific Agatha Christie homage and one that shares her love for concealing the villain behind clever dialogue and plotting. So it baffles me when Briant chooses to reveal that Dask is the villain very early on. What should be a harmless suggestion that the killer wears a certain pair of stripey trousers is blunted by the fact that Dask is the only person wearing those trousers! Okay, so this could be a clever cheat (could be, but isn’t) and the killer could have dressed up in his clothes as a disguise but then Dask appears on a screen programming a Robot to kill, there is some distortion to hide who this could be but not enough. It is obvious and unfortunate because my love of murder mysteries stems from the plotting which conceals the killer, I often go back and watch programmes like Jonathon Creek to see how cleverly the writer has concealed his twist villain whilst handing out enough clues to make it easy enough if you’ve been paying attention. Fortunately there is enough class in the story already and frightening incident to blind you to the fact that the climax where Dask is revealed in all his green and silver robot make up glory as the murderer is an insult and anyone shocked by this revelation should hang their head in shame. 

There are more moments of poor direction that admittedly don’t come close to sabotaging the production in any serious way but shock considering the effort that has gone into the rest. The Robot who eaves drops on the Doctor and Leela supposed to be D84 and yet he is entirely the wrong colour. Robots aren’t supposed to have necks beneath their face plates. And a cameraman is shockingly whack bang in the middle of a shot. Oh and the end of episode three is a mess, the Robot attacking the Doctor drawls his monotonous threats whilst Tom Baker calmly states “It’ll either be you or me!” like this is just a game of homicidal automatons. Oh and you can see Toos clearly breathing after the Robot strangles her to death (or this at least is what the script and direction are leading you to believe). These might seem like pathetic nick picks but there are some who will try and convince this is a perfect story and although it scores high on practically every level the direction slips enough to rough up its edges a bit. 

World building. Not easy to do in four twenty five minute episodes but the ever reliable Chris Boucher, continuing his run of luck after the imaginative Face of Evil, manages to paint a rather depressing picture of the future in his script. The power of money is frightening, causing rich sorts to spend months (even years) out in a barren desert with only a handful of humans to mine their wealth. Decadence drips from walls, Robot slaves are on hand to fetch and carry so these so-called miners can do as little work as possible that can actually be called work. There is talk of Kaldor City and the Founding Families, proving its not what you know but who you know as Unvanov points out to Zilda. The crew of the Sandminer are an opinionated bunch used to getting their own way and their very appearance, make up dripping from their faces and glittering clothes, and attitudes proves the luxury they are afforded is a corrupting element. They even have the Robots built in the humanoid image, smiling faces and stylish ‘hair cuts’, nobody wants to be reminded that these are in fact slaves. Just watch as the crew laze around and play games and how they suddenly become alert and professional the second a potentially wealthy storm hits the ship. It is rare to meet such an arrogant bunch, they point the finger at each other when there is a murder but are fully prepared to accept the Doctor and Leela are responsible simply because they are there. Tarren Capel might be one circuit short of a positronic brain but maybe he was the one who could see how damning the human race had become. You could almost see it as poetic judgement as the humans are slaughtered by grinning versions of themselves, instruments of their own self-indulgence. 

I have heard Hinchcliffe say time and again in interviews that he did not like SF clichйs or relying on monsters (especially when the budget so often failed to realise the writers ideas convincingly) and Robots of Death sees him ignoring both these rules. This was a man who was attuned with the series he was producing and knew how to break the rules but still make it work. Because for one story only we have a terrifying threat for the Doctor to face and one that sits comfortably in the series’ SF genre and still manage to be a man in a suit. I think it was my pal Rob Matthews who said it was more like watching a zombie movie (of which I am not the greatest fan)…then again perhaps it was Poul (“Not Robots! The walking dead!”), well wherever the source came was it is a potent statement because these walking, talking cadavers fulfil the zombie role perfectly. Just without the melodramatic (argh that word! Its catching Mike!) moaning and groaning. They kill. They are grotesque parodies of humans. They cannot be killed. They are relentless. And oh boy are they scary. 

I can remember when I first watched this on video and my Pops telling me the garbage men made killer robots out of the refuse they took away. What a bastard, I still get a pang of terror every time they pull up outside. Mind you he said the same thing about the Daleks so perhaps I should have noticed a pattern. 

When I think of September the 11th all I can think about is the crushing fear the passengers on board those planes must have felt. It was an awful tragedy and the pain of those needless deaths freezes my heart to this day but I cannot imagine anything scarier than knowing you are about to die. My heart goes out to every victim of that despicable act but it makes me sick to think of the terror those poor passengers must have experienced in that wait. 

The only reason I mention this is because Robots of Death shares a similar terror, characters who know they are going to die soon and the feeling of throat clenching horror is dizzying. When Chub is mouthing off to the Robot in the storage room he is blissfully unaware that his executioner has entered the room. The scene is almost funny until the event snaps into place and Chub relises the Robot is not being stupid by ignoring the weather balloon and approaching him with his hands ready to strangle but deadly serious. 

There are plenty of similar scenes that play on that one fear we cannot rid ourselves of, the fear of death. The scenes in Toos’ quarters are nail biting, this is a defenceless, snobby cow and a Robot is waiting outside her door to wring her neck. The loss of control is frightening; Toos rather pathetically tries to assert herself (“Attend to your duties!”) but is presented with a corpse marker so she slams the door and tries to convince the murderer of its implausibility (“It is forbidden for Robots to harm humans!”) and she suddenly realises, snapping her eyes shut, that she is not going to escape this one. The wait is unbearable so she opens the door to see if it has gone and her worst fears are confirmed when it is standing there, frozen, blood red eyes and advances into her personal space and grips her neck. This is adult stuff; Pamela Salem is almost too good at portraying Toos’ hysteria and with the Robot hand jammed in the door and the attack on her bed, it cannot fail to have some similarity with the idea of rape. It is tapping into a psychological horror that the show usually steers clear of because it is far more frightening than body horror. 

Poul is the most fascinating character in the story because he has so many layers. As the story continues his character is peeled away from smart arse miner, to private investigator, to robophobically unstable. You can almost feel the barriers of his mind coming down as he is confronted with the Robot hand dripping with blood, David Collins plays the anguish at just the right level to truly disturb. When Leela finds him cowering in a corner dribbling on about the walking dead he such a contrast to the confident examiner of the early episodes, Boucher knowing well enough that for the audience to be afraid his characters have to be too. 

Dropped into this story are the Doctor and Leela and at this point in their relationship the most interesting we would see of them. I had a chat with my mate Matt recently about how effective the story would be had Sarah Jane stayed on after Hand of Fear. He as very much in the different but still great wheras I think it is Leela that makes this story. In a story full of hunters (Poul is hunting Capel, the Robots are hunting everybody, Unvanov hunts the Doctor) she fits in perfectly, her senses are so attuned to her surroundings she makes an invaluable companion to have. It is interesting to note that her ‘feelings’ are spot on; Poul moves like a hunter, the Robots are creepy; the sabotage to the miner and it is the Doctor who seems naпve ignoring her warnings. I love her feistiness, she kicks at Unvanov, throws her knife in a Robots gut, rushes to save Toos, don’t listen to the rumours about the new series being revolutionary because of a capable, pro-active companion because Leela got there first (comment courtesy of Rob Matthews). The Eliza parallel has already begun and the Doctor’s conversation with her about body language is fascinating. Her dialogue (“If you’re bleeding look for a man with scars”) is terrific throughout. 

The Doctor is still in his moody years, very much the alien and Tom Baker plays the part so effectively. He can be funny (“Would you like a jelly baby?” “SHUT UP!” “A simple no thank you would have sufficed”), he can be intense (“We’ll all blow to pieces if you don’t cut the power!”), he can also be sarcastic (“Are you going to tell me your plan for running the universe?). What’s more he manages to convince you that the death of a Robot is a tragedy (his face when D84 is killed). Its one of his last totally straight performances and is one the best because he lets the script and the guest actors impress and simply provides some background gravitas. 

I could go on all day about the stylish art deco sets and costumes and the totally convincing model work for the Sandminer but that’s been done to death. Dudley Simpson’s intense, throbbing score is the icing on the cake of what is one of the best productions Doctor Who has to offer. 

There are so few Doctor Who stories that genuinely manage to make you afraid to sit in the dark alone and watch them. I am pleased to count Robots of Death amongst their number. Even my Ma thought this was creepy. What more can I say?

I was expecting to write a scathing review of 'The Invasion of Time'. I've only seen it twice before, but on each occasion I was less than impressed with it. On this occasion however, I found myself enjoying it and was surprised to find that it hangs together much better than its reputation would suggest. 

One of the most memorable aspects of 'The Invasion of Time' is of course the Doctor's seeming betrayal of Gallifrey to the Vardans. With no explanations forthcoming until Episode Three, the first two episodes leave open various possibilities; that the Doctor has gone mad, that he is being controlled, or of course that he has ulterior motives for this seeming treachery. The latter of course turns out to be the case, but Tom Baker's intense performance in the first two episodes must have had the audience wondering when the story was first broadcast. Erratic, arrogant, and ruthless, the Doctor heaps indignities on all around him (especially Borusa), orders that Leela be banished, and generally seizes the presidency of Gallifrey in as obnoxious a manner as is possible. Anyone who hadn't seen 'The Deadly Assassin' must have been even more startled by this development. With the Doctor acting so out of character, it is strangely relieving when he explains what is really going on to Borusa in Episode Three, even though I'm familiar with the plot. Once his true intentions for the Vardans are revealed, the Doctor settles down somewhat, but Baker maintains one of his most manic performances, possibly putting in a special effort because he's relieved that a season featuring two extremely bad Bob Baker and Dave Martin stories is nearly over. There are also moments where he displays the same kind of grim seriousness that characterised the Hinchcliffe era, such as when he picks up the De-Mat gun to a horrified gasp from Borusa and points out that they are utterly helpless against the Sontarans without it. What particularly interest me about 'The Invasion of Time' is just how manipulative the Doctor is. Although the Vardans state that if the Doctor fails "there will be others", I can't help wondering why the Doctor can't just go to Gallifrey, and warn them that a race named the Vardans are planning to invade; it is after all, the Doctor and K9 who are responsible for destroying the transduction barriers and opening a hole in the quantum force field. It suggests that the Doctor is not only trying to deal decisively with the Vardans, but also that he wants to shake the Time Lords up a bit. 

For her final story, Leela gets some very good lines and scenes. Her faith in the Doctor remains unshakeable, even when he orders her banished, and she manages to convince both Rodan and the Outsiders that he is up to something. Her usual skills at fighting are on show as ever, most notably when she throws a knife into a Sontaran's probic vent, but she also shows other attributes; once outside, she makes a point of looking after Rodan, and it is her leadership skills which allow her to convince the Outsiders to attack the Capitol. At one point she gets the line "Discussion is for the wise or the helpless and I am neither", which is not only superbly delivered by Jameson, but also suggests to me that Leela is actually a lot wiser than she gives herself credit for. Unfortunately, her leaving scene is notoriously contrived, due to Louise Jameson's late decision to depart, as Leela decides to stay with Andred, a man she barely knows. It is possible that some time passes between the Doctor's defeat of Stor and his actual departure during which time Leela gets to know Andred, and is also possible that this is how the Sevateem usually choose their partners, but it still feels awkward. On the other hand, the Doctor's wistful "I'll miss you too savage" as he closes the TARDIS door behind him goes some way to making up for this.

Also departing in this story is K9 Mark I, although due to a lack of any discernable difference between models, this makes very little impact. K9 however does get plenty to do, aiding and abetting the Doctor's scheme for the Vardans, being entrusted with Gallifrey's equivalent of the crown jewels and generally proving indispensable to the Doctor. The reason why I like K9 is summed up in the TARDIS scene in which K9 and the Doctor bicker outrageously, each calling the other smug; on the one hand it's rather silly to have a sarcastic back-talking robot dog, but on the other hand it is rather funny. 

The various Time Lords who appear here are generally well acted, especially John Arnatt's Borusa. His performance is not as memorable in my opinion as Angus Mackay's brilliant portrayal, but he still plays the part very well and manages to make it his own. Borusa's tendency to carefully analyze every situation with a view to ensuring Gallifrey's (and his own) future means that there is a slight edge to his relationship with the Doctor even after he knows what is really going on, and this results in him twice pulling a gun on the Doctor, most notably when the Doctor demands the Great Key of Rassilon. Milton Johns' loathsome Kelner is also a great character, displaying some truly unappealing character traits including cowardice and treacherousness (which contrasts nicely with the Doctor's pretence of betrayal - Kelner is happy to serve both Vardans and Sontarans for the sake of his own survival and power). Relatively minor characters like Lord Gomer and Nesbin also come over well, helping to make the story fill its six-episode length without feeling overly padded. On the other hand, I'm not particularly impressed with either Hilary Ryan as Rodan or Christopher Tranchell as Andred, both of whom occasionally veer alarmingly towards wooden acting. 

The main weaknesses in 'The Invasion of Time' are unfortunately the villains. Firstly, the Vardans are quite well written, and their ability to travel along broadcast wavelengths has enormous potential, which to the credit of Graham Williams and Anthony Read (a.k.a. David Agnew) is used rather well, this being the rationale behind the Doctor's highly erratic behaviour (they can read minds) and his seemingly throwaway demand in Episode One for a lead-lined office. Unfortunately, their realization on screen is rather less impressive. I don't actually mind their shimmering tin-foil appearance when they haven't fully materialized, but once they appear in the flesh they look utterly ridiculous, not because they are just normal humanoids, but because they wear phenomenally stupid uniforms, complete with helmets that resemble bedpans. This in itself wouldn't be so bad, but their acting throughout is awful, all of them sounding like dropouts from an amateur dramatics society, with horribly stilted diction and too much emphasis whenever they are supposed to sound angry or alarmed. 

In story terms, the revelation that the Vardans are not the real villains results in a cliffhanger to Episode Four which has rather impressive impact, especially for long term fans of the series. The Sontarans rank highly amongst my favourite Doctor Who monsters, and their revelation as Gallifrey's real attackers late in the day gives the story an effective boost. It also allows "David Agnew" to follow Robert Holmes' advice and structure the story as a four parter and a two parter, which as 'The Seeds of Doom' demonstrated can be an effective way to structure a six episode story. With the Vardans satisfactorily disposed off, the last two episodes of 'The Invasion of Time' thus concern the Sontaran invasion as the Doctor and his friends are faced with this more potent threat to Gallifrey. Unfortunately, however, at this point the story starts to fall apart somewhat. The Sontarans spend two episodes chasing around after the Doctor, so that they can secure the Great Key, which we are told will allow them access to all of space and time. After pursing the Doctor through his TARDIS for about half an episode however, they seem to give up and instead decide to just blow the planet up. Why exactly they give up so easily is unclear; a throwaway line about an approaching Rutan fleet might have made this plot development more plausible, but as it stands, Stor's sudden decision to destroy a large area of space seems included simply to provide a more exciting climax. In addition to this, the much vaunted De-Mat gun really isn't that impressive; nothing in the script suggests that is anything more than a glorified ray-gun, and the Doctor's line that he could rule the universe with it is utterly cringe-worthy. The Sontarans also suffer slightly from Derek Deadman's cockney accent, although this doesn't bother me quite as much as it does some fans and by Episode Six I'd pretty much got used to it. 

The production of 'The Invasion of Time' is reasonably good. The sets of the Capitol are nowhere nears as impressive as those from 'The Deadly Assassin', but they still look rather good and they also contain design aspects of those in that story, which suggests at widespread rebuilding after the havoc wreaked by the Master. The recycled Time Lord costumes still look good, making the costumes in this story look a lot more expensive than those in other stories from this season. There are also some impressive model shots of the Vardan ship in orbit around Gallifrey. The location work featured in 'The Invasion of Time' consists of that used for outer Gallifrey, which is adequate if unspectacular, and that used for the interiors of the Doctor's TARDIS, which is slightly controversial. Personally, I like the idea that the TARDIS can contain Victorian brickwork, and I also like the impression of scale created here, with reference to the TARDIS interior existing on multiple levels. On the other hand, the location work used to show those parts of the Capitol containing the machinery for the transduction barriers and the quantum force field clashes horribly with the studio sets of the rest of the Citadel. 'The Invasion of Time' also features some rather tatty-looking Sontaran costumes, and Stor's mask is a considerable disappointment after those worn by Kevin Lindsay in 'The Time Warrior' and 'The Sontaran Experiment'. Finally, I always find the fact that the Great Key of Rassilon just looks like any old key almost irrationally irritating. 

In summary, 'The Invasion of Time' has considerable flaws, but still just about manages to work. For a season with such fluctuating story quality as Season Fifteen, it is perhaps appropriate that the finale is itself something of a mixed bag. Graham William's first season perhaps suffers from having no discernable style of its own, featuring leftovers from his predecessor and two complete and utter turkeys. Having found his feet however, Williams would make leave far more of a distinctive mark on his next season…