There’s an album by Roxette called “Don’t Bore Us Get To The Chorus”, and that very much sums up Russell T Davies’ “Doctor Who” – which is very much what this is, lest anyone still be in any doubt.

Admittedly, there’s little time for foreplay in 45-minute, self-contained episodes – and, to continue the metaphor, Davies has everyone’s kit off (almost literally in “New Earth”!) and down to business minutes into the episode.

One of the most-appreciable differences between the classic series and the 21st-century version is the lightning-quick pace at which the current vintage is generally delivered. And, if “New Earth” is anything to go by, Series Two is not only going to continue that trend – it’s going to be an even-faster ride.

On the story, had you read any of the previews or even paid a cursory visit to any spoiler sections, you’d have pretty much worked out what it was about and more or less how it was going to pan out.

At least the Doctor Who fan would have – I think the “average” viewer coming to the episode unfettered by too much knowledge (which is so much the best way, shame so few of us can wait) would have found the basics hugely entertaining.

A zip through to the Year Five Billion 23, a hospital run by cat nurses, an encounter with a familiar and popular enemy from the previous series, who body-swapped with both Rose and the Doctor, the revelation that the cats are in fact farming humans for medical research, a few chase scenes, and the Doctor cures the plague-ridden. “Everybody lives”, you might say – well, almost everybody . . .

Sounds great as a prйcis, and worked pretty well on screen. Having said that, I had a pre-series pecking order of the episodes I thought I’d enjoy and would fare best, and “New Earth” was quite low on it – lowest, actually.

Whether that holds true, only viewing of the next 12 episodes (none of which I have seen as I write) will tell. To equate it with an episode from last season in terms of popularity, I’d liken it most to “Rose” – erring towards style over substance, and you’d be surprised if better episodes weren’t on the way.

Yet, like “Rose”, “New Earth” was a tasty hors d’oevres.

The visuals were amazing – well up to, and I think well in excess of last year’s triumphant efforts. Loved the early scenes of New Earth, and the sheer scale of the hospital’s human “pens” was breathtaking for a TV series rather than a big-budget movie.

A huge bonus was the cameo of the Face of Boe. What an absolutely-stunning piece of visual effects that is, and well worth the return visit from last season’s “End Of The World”. Reminds me of a giant Yoda, except the voice has more - and the correct amount of - gravitas!

OK, you could argue the point about why did he feel the need to pull The Doctor all the way to the year Five Billion and 23, only to tell him . . . well, that he had something of great magnitude to tell him, but he wasn’t going to tell him after all.

Hopefully, the denouement will be fitting for a character which I’m sure originally was only a bit part, but has grown into the potential for something more substantial – both metaphorically as well as literally.

Is Boe going to be this season’s Bad Wolf? Possibly not quite – but I can’t wait for his “third” meeting with The Doctor, and it’ll be a great shame if, as he said, it is also the “last”. There is much I, for one, would like to know about Boe . . .

And what of the stars of the show? Hard to imagine anything less than excellence from David Tennant and Billie Piper, and they had loads of good moments here, courtesy of Davies, of course.

I preferred Tennant in “The Christmas Invasion” where, in retrospect, he set far too high a standard – he made a sensational debut in that, and really stole the show.

Of the big two, “New Earth” certainly belonged to Piper. Rose has grown a lot since her first meeting with The Doctor, and looked fabulous here. Piper’s portrayal of the Cassandra-possessed Rose was excellent, bringing Zoe Wanamaker’s character to life perfectly, changing her voice and mannerisms to suit.

Tennant also made a fine job of portraying the Cassandra-possessed Doctor. I’m not sure Davies would have written those scenes for Christopher Eccleston. Tennant would be the better of the two at “camp”!

Great snog between the Cassandra/Rose and the Doctor – and line of the show, “I’ve still got it”, from David Tennant. He really does deliver those plum lines!

I thought the “curing” of the disease-riddled humans by dousing one in the Five Billion equivalent of Dettol and having them “pass it on” was a quick way out rather than a particularly-clever way out.

And, the sudden acceptance of Cassandra that her time was up didn’t really reconcile with anything in the character up until that point – although it did make for a fairly-poignant ending.

I could see the logic in bringing back Cassandra as a link to the previous series and, although it was a pity the “trampoline” version didn’t have much screen time (understandable for cost reasons) she was really brought to life by Piper particularly and Tennant, based on Wanamaker’s original interpretation, of course.

All in all, “New Earth” wasn’t a classic, but a satisfactory season opener, with enough good moments to ensure it’ll be worth the odd revisit.

I believe I said last year at this time that the relatively lightweight story "Rose" was exactly what the series needed to start with, using the golden mantra of drama that goes "start small and build." I feel somewhat the same about this story, "New Earth." It's too early for a big emotional wringer sort of story like a "Father's Day" or a "Parting of the Ways," and it also sort of seems too early for a classic machinations sort of story ala "Empty Child." Instead we start with a bit of a romp, which as romps go is pretty entertaining, which is then lifted big time by some eye-popping direction and special effects work. This is the best "Doctor Who" has ever looked (bar one very glaring sore thumb of a moment I'll get to below)... up until next week anyway, and the week after that, and so on, as I have a feeling this high level is going to be maintained through the rest of the season. I might as well start there...

And my goodness those effects looked nifty. New New York and its air traffic was a spectacular outdoor vista of the sort we don't often see in TV or movie s.f. in that it looks amazing and cool and is at the same time a really great-looking place to live. Most of the time we're stuck looking at gorgeous enormous cities that look like they've forgotten how to maintain septic systems. This... wow... it looks like the sort of place saintly realtors go when they die, only much more crowded. Then we get inside the hospital and the interiors seem to match that look very well indeed, and then the Sisters of Plentitude turn up sporting what must be the best prosthetic make-up I've ever seen in anything. People who work on scifi shows that have a lot of this all seem worried about making it look good enough for the switchover to HD-TV, and based on this, "Doctor Who" shouldn't have to worry one little bit. I also very much liked the actress playing the Sister who was tending to the Face of Boe. Her voice and her performance made her character really come alive. And then on top of that there's loads and loads of extras all with boils on their faces during the plague zombie bits, and there's Cassandra again, and there's that sequence of zooming up and down the liftshaft. That all looked fantastic and at least as good as anything being done on any other show anywhere at the moment... certainly in these quantities.

The only thing about the look of the show that didn't work (which I alluded to earlier) is the scene when the Doctor and Rose/Cassandra head down into the "intensive care" area where all the zombie plague people are. It's extraordinarily obvious to me that they are reusing the same stairway in the paper mill that they used last year on "Rose" for the confrontation with the Nestene, and I can't believe they thought they could get away with it simply by painting the railings white. It completely wrenched me out of the moment and the plot. It's a gaffe in production worthy of those in the original series, and I really hope we don't see anything like this happening again. The reuse (for the second time!) of the above-the-lift footage shot for "Rose" for the lift here on New Earth should likewise be retired.

Now then... what about that story itself? Well, the best thing about it was that I couldn't spot how the Doctor was going to solve it until he did. There were all sorts of little things peppered throughout the episode that seemed to be just there for laughs or just details that filled out the world we're in, but most of these were in fact brought back at the end in the solution. Examples of this include the winch that's needed to hoist up the big fat man which gets used to get the Doctor down the lift and the disinfectant shower that's in the lifts. Cassandra's plot had this too, what with the film she's showing us at the start where she mentions the last time she was called beautiful, which turns out to have been herself doing so thanks to a lift in the TARDIS at the end. Another very good thing about the story was the medical plot with the plague zombies, and how for once, we get to hear just _why_ zombies go around trying to grab and fondle people... it's because this lot have never touched a human before in their lives and long for physical contact. That's very neat, as is the "laying on of hands" Christ-like solution to the plague which is very in keeping with an Easter weekend broadcast. The general premise of the hospital was OK too... not too original (the Big Finish audio "Project: Twilight" has a similar set-up in it), but topical. It reminded me a bit of "Terminus," only not nearly so depressing. And there were other nice little touches and details in names that Russell often drops in which I quite liked, like the Duke of Manhattan or calling Chip "Gollum" at one point, or the "NNYPD," or Cassandra's antique film projector, and especially the apple grass. Is it specially imported from Steve Jobs' front lawn? I do also like the legend surrounding the Face of Boe and how he'll tell the Doctor his secret someday... but not just yet.

The "average" thing about the story was the body-swapping stuff with Cassandra projecting her mind into Rose and the Doctor and others and possessing them. This is a very by-the-numbers s.f. cliche, which come to think of it the original series never actually did, but as these things go, it was made pretty entertaining, not so much by the writing but by the performances and impression skills of Billie Piper and David Tennant. I do wonder at Cassandra apparently being able to do this even when she's away from her equipment, and I especially wonder at how she takes over the Doctor, who is after all supposed to be able to place a barrier around his mind. He's no pushover when it comes to possession, but Cassandra's able to march in there and run him like she's Sutekh? There's also one enormous plot hole right off the bat where we're never told exactly why Chip and Cassandra were scanning the countryside with a spider-bot in the first place.... was it just on the off chance that Rose and the Doctor were going to turn up? It's a little depressing to see since it's a hole that could be so easily plugged as well.

Like I said earlier, there isn't really any big emotional journey for the Doctor and Rose (and the viewers) this week... just an average adventure for them, but that's exactly what we need in the first episode of the season before the meatier stuff comes later. And bar just a few gaffes here and there, it was a very fun adventure, and certainly wonderful to just stare at.

8 out of 10 for "New Earth" I think.

On initial inspection, ‘New Earth’ rather seems to have continued the upward trend in Russell T Davis’ writing for the series; this is a busy and blisteringly fast story (almost too fast – other reviewers have mentioned various components of the storyline such as the Doctor’s winch and the planets in the sky which I didn’t spot and have no memory of).

Nevertheless, the sound is still overly brash, bordering on incoherent, and the obligatory ‘cringe’ moments are still there, all right. Boy, are they there. This time around we have a fresh outbreak of Russell’s taste for mythic-sounding SF schlock (“the wanderer… the man without a home… the lonely God” – I don’t mind writers “bigging up” the Doctor, but not like this: with the subtlety of an atom bomb), capped with an almost masturbatory scene as Cassandra, invading Rose’s body using a psycho-graft, “inspects” herself. Poor old Russell – he just can’t seem to help himself. But the way this scene is lingered over when there’s such an overwhelming weight of plot and incident (this episode is surely more crammed with stuff than any before it) is not only crass, it’s a bit odd. And the effects remain gaudy masterpieces of unrealism, although I must concede that in their way they are attractive.

The one thing I was hoping against hope not be disappointed by in the week before ‘New Earth’ screened (and it’s a measure of how far Series 1 let me down that unlike in the pre-Rose furore of last year, I didn’t even think about Series 2 until a few days prior to the launch, and even then my pulse hardly spiked!) was David Tennant – the Tenth Doctor! Was I? Well, yes and no. From thinking that he’d be as bad as Eccleston in the final moments of the nightmare that was ‘The Parting of the Ways’, to suddenly realising during CiN that he could actually be brilliant, and then watching the Christmas Invasion coming to the conclusion that “he could do great things, if only he’d tone it down a bit in episodes to come”, I now find myself thinking – well, “he could still do great things, if only he’d tone it down a bit… etc.

This was DT’s least distinctive performance so far. It was by no means bad. In fact it was good. This Doctor is a lot closer to being ‘nice’ that Eccles, that’s for sure. But I’m a little uneasy about his tendency to chop and change between cheeky smirking and serious rage. I get the impression that the Tenth Doctor is meant to be scary, but there’s a clear line between moral outrage and madness: the Tenth Doctor, in ‘New Earth’, comes across as slightly unhinged.

Picture, particularly, his confrontation with the poor novice, whose good intentions, whether misguided or not, were plain to see: “I’m the Doctor and if you don’t like it, if you want to take it to a higher authority there isn’t one! It stops with me!”. This is more than eccentricity – the Doctor is talking the language of megalomania!

It’s not Tennant’s fault, of course, it’s Russell’s; it’s part and parcel of his ‘big idea’ of characterising the Doctor as the most arrogant man alive: “I’m the Doctor and I cured them. Pass it on”. In the Ninth Doctor, a Time Lord not exactly notable for his good qualities, this was unbearable – in the Tenth, it remains to be seen whether or not it can be sustained.

No actor can make a completely good impression without good lines and characterisation, and if David Tennant’s incarnation does end up falling as flat as Christopher Eccleston’s, it will, like as not, be Russell T Davis’ – if you don’t like it, if you want to take it to a higher authority, there isn’t one, it stops with him.

But what of the good? The most startling part of the story for me, apart from its engorged plot, was the proactive nature of the resolution – and, for the second time in a row – count them, TWO! – the Doctor does the work. And in style. This is big stuff; it sets a new record for the ‘Doctor Who’ revival. Never before has the Doctor played a decisive role in the story’s conclusion for two consecutive episodes. It is primarily because of this that I am willing to forgive the story its faults. If only they can keep it up, I will be quite happy, barring any unforgivable howlers such as, ooh, I don’t know, killing off Sarah Jane Smith or making the Cybermen stupid/comic/unthreatening.

The Doctor’s ability to “pull the cat out of the bag”, as one essayist put in relation to ‘Robot’, is seen again here, as he uses already-introduced plot devices and his own special ingenuity to achieve victory, providing the most extraordinary and welcome twist that RTD has given us so far: he takes an apparently irretrievable situation, and a bog-standard rampage of ‘plague zombies’, and gives us ‘The Doctor Dances’ Mk II (the not-nearly-so-effective-but-still-good sequel!). Not everybody lives; we don’t know or care for the incidental characters; and coming from a plot which replaces Steven Moffat’s sheer skill with RTD’s trademark breathless about-faces, the resolution isn’t so touchingly brilliant… but you have to admit, having the Doctor cure – not destroy, but CURE – the poor zombies was classic Doctor Who.

Fitz said of the Eighth Doctor, “God, you’re cool!” when he resurrected millions of people in ‘The Gallifrey Chronicles’. This was a comparable moment.

Cassandra, of course, warrants a mention. Her bizarre powers of mind-swapping without the psycho-graft needed a little thought, but it isn’t really important. What is important is that Russell’s compassion for the villains reappears (arguably, he cares more about the Cassandras and Blon Fel Fotches than he does the ‘good guys’!) – and strangely enough the apparent paradox of Cassandra meeting herself and dying in her own arms was far from cringeworthy. Instead it was a great idea, touchingly and not over-statedly redeeming Cassandra, as the Doctor, Rose, and the viewers see what could very well be the last spark of humanity and tenderness in her entire life. The moody final shot of the Doctor was great too, and helped the feeling that he is more in the centre of things than Eccleston was.

Redemption. I would rhapsodise about how beautifully appropriate it was for Easter, if only I thought that atheist Russell meant it that way.

Preposterous. Absolutely out of this world, unbelievably preposterous. In other words ‘New Earth’ is Doctor Who as it always was and should always be. The science maybe questionable (and hands up if you’re an expert on the year 5 Billion and 23?) but critics will be aware that this is children’s television and if they are entertained then Mr Davies and his team have simply succeeded where a number of other pretenders to the family programming crown have bravely failed. The reaction from my two children (9 and 6 respectively) gave the episode a firm thumbs up. Yes, they didn’t quite understand all of the sub-plots and yes, they had plenty of questions regarding certain themes, but they were thoroughly enthralled from the pre-title sequence right up to the end of the ‘Tooth and Claw’ trailer.

A new Earth and a new, new doctor accompanied by a surfeit of computer generated eye candy. The wide angle shot of the transporters homing in on the hospital of the future took my breath away and reminded everyone of how far Doctor Who has travelled, quite literally. When Rose gushed the words “I’ll never get used to this” you felt that 8 million viewers were probably sharing the same sentiments; at last the images on screen truly realise the ideas drafted on paper.

Tennant is a revelation. It may be premature to say so, but he has already stamped his authority on this most iconic of roles. A whole gamut of emotions were covered in forty five minutes and anticipation is high regarding what he can achieve during the course of Season Two. His interplay with Piper is just natural; they are both at ease with each other and clearly are having the time of their lives. Adding to the mix Wanamaker’s sardonically cruel Lady Cassandra was inspired and helps to give the story a welcomed lift. The turns from each of the three leads during the ‘body snatching’ sequences highlighted the talents on display. Absurb it may have been but as entertainment second to none.

The Sisters of Plenitude, with their utterly sinister and misguided mission, contributed to the spectacle. Full credit must go to the design team for producing aliens that Star Trek would have struggled to create so plausibly. Add to this the duped ‘patients’, carrying every known disease in the universe, breaking free and turning on their captors, you are already gripped by the ambition of this new series. It appears to be doing what it promised in the trailers and taking us further than before.

And that ending was poignant without being too wistful. Chip, as Cassandra, finally brings out the true human in his mistress. The Doctor and Rose linger for a moment witnessing the final embrace but have the dignity to take their leave and set the TARDIS co-ordinates for 1979; just in time for that Ian Dury gig……….

The sparky, sharply observed script confirms Davies’ credentials as a top-drawer writer (as if there were any doubts). It would be churlish to criticize references to 'Chavs' and hospital shops; it simply communicates seamlessly to the contemporary audience. Doctor Who has never professed to be serious high brow, up it's own derriere science-fiction. It is preposterous, however, highly entertaining fantasy made for children; on those notes it ticks all the boxes. Overall, a ‘text book enigmatic’ episode that bodes well for Season Two and indeed for the new, new doctor.

My nine year old son says:

“It’s a very good opening episode. The visual effects were fantastic. I especially liked the way in which Cassandra was re-introduced along with the Face of Boe. I find it interesting to see characters who were in Season One again; it makes for excellent continuity and the familiarity helps me to relate to the stories more immediately. The doctor’s new, the planet is new and even the city is new, new – this theme really made me feel that we were witnessing an exciting new stage in the series – I liked the pattern involved here. I loved the fact that Cassandra took over other bodies. The fear factor was high because the infected people and the Sisters of Plenitude gave me the creeps! But ‘Tooth and Claw” looks even scarier...

I am anything but an expert on the Hartnell years, and I'll admit I approached this story with some hesitation, having recently been (very) disappointed by the dishwater-dull 'Dalek Invasion of Earth.' But I was actually pleasantly surprised (and sometimes delighted) by 'The Daleks' – it's a stylish and moody piece of television, full of memorable moments and challenging ideas. As a product of its time, it's undeniably pokey, of course, and will seem a bit padded to the uninitiated (the 'bacon and eggs' scene, e.g., is one I could have done without). Probably its biggest problem, of course, is the abrupt conclusion, where, as in the next Dalek story, the fearsome cyborg monstrosities are ultimately defeated by three or four unarmed men rushing up to them and pushing them over. It's a serious disappointment, but it can't undo the many successes of the story, and overall 'The Daleks' is consistently entertaining, a fitting debut for the Doctor's legendary enemies. 

One of the best things the story does from the very outset is to convey Ian and Barbara's continuing shock at what has happened to them, and their doubts about whether the Doctor can actually get them home at all. William Russell and Jacqueline Hill play their anger and fear quite convincingly in the opening scenes, and truly, the series might not depict the disorienting shock of space and time travel so well again until the Ninth Doctor picks up Rose, more than forty years later. (And, as with Rose, the characters of Ian and Barbara are used as a lens through which we see not only the reality of time travel, but the strange and alien Doctor as well.)

Once the story gets going, there are many moments that stand out as genuine classics, of course. Such examples as the mutant's claw creeping out from under the blanket and the first cliffhanger with Barbara are rightly singled out by fans, but for me the most seminal moment is the exchange after the Daleks reveal their plan to wipe out the Thals. When the Doctor incredulously fumes "That's sheer murder!" and the Dalek responds: "NO – EXTERMINATION," it's a chilling moment that spins out over the course of this series – we see how clearly different the Daleks' worldview is from the Doctor's (and ours), but we also see his mind working, and understand how his first encounter with his oldest enemies helped form the righteous indignation that would guide the character through the rest of this series. As for William Hartnell's performance itself, he stumbles once or twice in Episode One, but in general he's in terrific form. The First Doctor here is a fascinating character study – he's admittedly old and tired (Susan even apologizes to Ian and Barbara for his forgetfulness), but he also shows a surprising energy, driven, it seems, by his intellectual curiosity. He's hardly a superhero, or even much of a hero at all: indeed, he's selfish and scheming when tricking the TARDIS crew into accompanying him to the mysterious city, and harsh and cold when suggesting he'll leave Ian and Barbara on Skaro, or insisting that they use the Thals as cannon fodder for the Daleks so they can escape. But, as I said, he's increasingly moral and humane too, and of course he's quite funny in such scenes as his argument with Ian in Episode One.

As for Ian, the treatment of his character is rather dated - he comes off as a bit bossy, and more than a bit sexist, when he refuses to believe either woman alone could (or should?) be trusted with the drug-retrieving mission in Episode Two, or when he sends Barbara and Susan out of the room so that the men-folk can deal with the Dalek mutant. (Gee whiz, Dad . . . .) But Barbara comes off rather better, showing imagination and independence here, and acting as a great stand-in for the viewer when wandering alone in the frightening city in Episode One. Another writer once pointed out that a 'mature' female companion like Barbara wouldn't really be seen again in this series; it's true, and it's too bad. If only you could say the same thing for Susan, whose shrieking and sobbing here provide a sad precedent for many girl companions to come . . . .

As for the non-regular characters, Mark Campbell has notably criticized the treatment of the Thals, summing up 'The Daleks' as "a questionable morality tale whereby 'ugly = bad' and 'pretty = good,'" and it is a legitimate point. In particular, the way in which Susan and the rest of the TARDIS crew instinctively trust the Thals simply because they're well-formed physically is annoying. But in all fairness, there's more to the story's philosophy than that – after all, the beauty of the Thals is less linked with their 'goodness' than with their pacifism, which it should be remembered is *criticized* by the script (however respectfully). The individual Thals are rather blandly characterized, and the overtly philosophical dialogue is occasionally heavy-handed (Terry Nation seems more interested in giving them symbolic things to *do* than believable things to *say*). Still, one has to admire the seriousness with which the theme is approached – especially in the context of a fledgling children's TV show!

And then there is the presentation of the Daleks themselves, of course. The physical travel machines work well – the image of a Dalek is one so familiar to us that it's worth reminding ourselves how strange and alien Raymond Cusick's design actually is. In a series known for passing off stuntmen in rubber masks as aliens, it's wonderful to see such a convincingly alien concept - there's absolutely nothing recognizably human about a Dalek. It's astonishing that Sydney Newman responded so poorly to such an original idea, in fact. The dilating eye is particularly disturbing (one wonders, actually, why Russell T. Davies didn't return to it with the Eccleston series), the machines glide rather quickly and smoothly, and even small touches like the Daleks passing a sheet of paper from one sucker arm to another is surprisingly impressive. 

As for their characterization, at this point, Terry Nation had not yet developed the arsenal of Dalek dialogue 'chestnuts' that he and other writers would use (and overuse) through the years ("I OBEY," "STAY WHERE YOU ARE – DO NOT MOVE," etc.); nevertheless, the Daleks make a tremendous impact in their voice and speech here. They are harsh and intimidating, certainly, in such scenes as the one where they force Susan to write her note, but rather than simply screeching slogans as they do in later stories like the overrated 'Remembrance,' these Daleks actually *think* as well, and demonstrate much personality. They are paranoid, interrupting and challenging even each other, and jittery, as when the guard Dalek orders the prisoners to move away from the sides of the door. They also show much evidence of their cunning and scientific approach, spying on their prisoners and analyzing their conversations (they are not for an instant fooled by the silly 'fight' the TARDIS crew use to disconnect their camera). Significantly, their intellects are shown to be as impenetrable as their armor – even the Doctor can't outtalk them (when he tries to stall them by telling them about the TARDIS, they are interested, but have no doubt they'll be able to comprehend its technology themselves after his death). And they are resourceful problem-solvers too, quickly burning through the blocked door, and conducting immediate experiments to determine the effects of the Thal drugs (and, just as quickly, learning how to counter them). But perhaps the most surprising thing about their characterization here is how *sad* these Daleks are – for one of the most notable things the story does is expose the Big Lie of Dalek superiority. After all, the first thing the Daleks do with the Thals' anti-radiation drugs is try to *cure* themselves, to rid themselves of their 'Dalek-ness.' It is only when the drugs fail, and they are left with no other choice, that they rationalize their compromised form, and convince themselves that their weakness is in fact the key to ultimate strength.

Just about every other aesthetic element of the story satisfies. The Dalek city is beautifully designed, and looks all the scarier and more distorted for being in black and white. The whirlpool in Episode Five is very impressive for the time, and the script does a good job of sprinkling its thematic content throughout a 'Lord of the Rings'-esque quest adventure. Finally, the seemingly intentional double entendre "Now there's a double meaning for you" is a shockingly risquй line. I gasped when I heard it . . . and I'm not easily shocked.

Stories written by Robert Holmes that aren't classics tend to provoke one of two reactions: either vitriolic criticism disproportionate to other stories of a similar quality (such as with The Power Of Kroll), or else people come up with an excuse as to why Holmes wasn't on form. The Krotons being his first story, most of its bad points can be excused there and then for many fans – although the fact that they have to be excused in the first place logically means that the story can't be that good. However, when taken on its own terms The Krotons isn't that bad and I don't really think it's fair that it's crushed under the weight of Holmes's later work. Also, as his first story, there's no doubting that for better or worse this is an important story for Doctor Who.

So a hatch gets stuck. Big deal. Why do people complain about this and not the wobbling ladder in Warrior's Gate? Because the goof occurs in the very first shot of the story, that's why not, and so there's no mitigation at this point in the way of quality elsewhere to offset it, so it gets inflated in the mind of the viewer into something more significant than it really is. Normally I try to avoid mentioning things that are criticised into the ground elsewhere, but I believe that the opening shot to this story has come under a lot of unjustified fire. However, the opening scene in general isn't actually that great. Opening scenes are rarely the programme's strongest feature, as the setting and basic core idea must be established without actually giving anything away; with this story (and many more) we get a variation on the portentous "you mustn't go in there – you know what will happen" that you'd expect to find getting a lot of coos from a pantomime audience.

Fortunately the regulars can be relied on to rock and roll, although since this is a Patrick Troughton episode it's debatable whether I needed to point that out. The Gond city is a good model, and the Doctor's comment about architecture being suited to low gravity is the kind of trademark tiny detail that gives Holmes's work so much depth and nuance. Unfortunately Zoe spends this episode being very stupid indeed ("There's a ramp, Doctor. And a door. Is it a wall?"), which is a shame as it lets the side down a bit. However, as I said, there's very little that Troughton can't make work. The death of the student is a nicely dramatic moment that moves the episode on from the opening's characteristic staginess.

The main set of the Gonds' learning hall looks decent as, like with a lot of black and white episodes, heavy contrast in lighting obscures the details and the depth making it look less confined and studioish. Now that the plot has been revealed a little bit more things are really starting to improve, and Philip Madoc puts in a brilliant performance like in all his subsequent appearances on the show.

The rescue of Vana is another dramatic scene, although Zoe's comment of "I think I can hear something!" as a loud buzzing rumbles across the landscape still places her IQ at sea level for the episode. I normally dismiss comments about the original series being sexist, but when companions chiefly characterised as genii are written to be so dim just to give the Doctor some foil I start to think they may have a point. The Doctor complaining about the loss of an umbrella is one of my favourite moments in the story (even at this stage Holmes was a handy man with a one-liner), and his protestation of "I'm not a doctor of medicine" is the first of many contradictions about the Doctor's academic status we see throughout the show; I like to think that the nature of the Doctor's degree is open to change depending on what he finds convenient.

I have to say though that some of the guest acting is over the top and portentous, especially the custodian of the learning hall, when compared against Troughton. Perhaps this is a reason for the story's poor reputation; I'm no statistician, but I note that stories notable for poor acting rarely feature in peoples' top ten lists.

The Doctor's darkly thoughtful assessment of "self-perpetuating slavery" is wonderfully dramatic and shows how well Troughton understood and keyed into the power of understatement as opposed to the manic we're-all-going-to-die acting of the guest stars. The Kroton voices are amazing, made all the better by us not being able to see where they are coming from at this stage. Unfortunately, next episode Patrick Tull's Cockney accent lets them down a bit (come to think of it, seeing them lets them down). Even in the self-consciously progressive 21st Century regional dialects haven't made their way into monsters, and they certainly don't sound very serious in the 1960s. It's unfair, there's no doubting, but can you imagine the reaction if the Empty Child was from Birmingham? It'd get laughed at, that's what would happen, and by the people who complain that the original series is too parochial. Coomin' ta find ya Moomay!

The snake-scanner-weapon-thingy is actually quite creepy, again because of the sense of the unknown (I just can't get enough of that), and it makes for the story's best cliffhanger. With part two coming along a bit more plot can be revealed, and the idea that the Krotons are only teaching the Gonds what they can't use to rebel against their oppressors is very 1984 when you think about it. There is a very well constructed scene at the beginning of the second episode, as Zoe uses the learning machine just as the Doctor discovers what's in the underhalls so that a sense of mystery is set up as the explanation of what's down there has to be broken off partway through.

The Doctor's line of "great jumping gobstoppers" is one that I would imagine gets very different reactions from viewers, either supporting or undermining my earlier comment about Holmes and one-liners depending on how much you want to see an episode written by Enid Blyton. Although I quite like the line it's not helped by the fact that this expression of surprise refers to a piddling little dinner gong – something that the Doctor himself remarks on.

The Doctor's test is one of the story's two main comic-relief scenes; normally for my sins I get a bit sniffy about this sort of thing but it has a witty charm (not to mention great acting) that puts it far ahead of the clever-clever approach adopted in episodes like The End Of The World. The idea that the machines plant emotions in the minds of the users to make them feel valued is a great one. 

Using a chain to protect themselves from the Krotons' force field is a minor contrivance but helped by the brilliant shots of it breaking under the strain; also, the brain-scan sequence has to be one of Doctor Who's trippiest moments and I must confess I can't watch it without wanting to sing 'Tomorrow Never Knows' to myself. The Krotons' first appearance is also great (to the extent where their actual look is even more of a disappointment) with them slowly appearing in their tanks while the Doctor shows genuine concern. As I mentioned though, the Krotons look ridiculous (it's easy to see how the rumour that they were designed by a kid who won Blue Peter competition started – no disrespect to kids, but you know what I mean), and the cliffhanger to the second episode is distinctly average. It's more notable in the third episode than the second, but the Krotons seems to have gone in for some seriously natty '60s dйcor for the Dynatrope, with those black and white spirals on the monitor screens.

Selris's argument with Thara about attacking the Krotons is actually a very well related anti-war sentiment; when a fictional war is used it reduces war to an abstract concept meaning that ideas related to it don't date or become inappropriate with time to the extent that I think they will do in, for example, World War Three. The Krotons obsession with "procedure" makes them sound like Douglas Adams's Vogons, as a Kroton makes its way very slowly across the wasteland to the TARDIS. I have to say that the story has slowed down dramatically (it is an episode three; if I was to say that Holmes is usually quite good at them I'll be violating a point I made in my introduction about not judging the story by his future episodes, so I won't). By this stage, the "should we attack the Krotons / shouldn't we" argument is going on too long.

The HADS are a big contrivance, a bit like the pause control from The Android Invasion, which crops up once to get the TARDIS out of a tight spot and then is never seen again. However, "you can tell that the Captain is not at the helm" is another great line.

The chemistry scene is another comic relief scene although this one is based on slapstick rather than witticisms, but it still has a lot of inoffensive charm. This can be contrasted with Selris's death which seems slightly disturbing given that he's such a hapless character and that the mortality rate in this story is actually fairly low, at 33.3% not including the Krotons themselves. The Doctor and Zoe playing for time is another fun scene, and the shots of the Krotons and the Dynatrope dissolving look great.

All in all, The Krotons is a distinctly average story; average does not mean bad. Possibly the final word has to be that maybe, with far stronger stories like The Power Of The Daleks and The Web Of Fear missing from the archives, there is a certain amount of bitterness over what the BBC decided to keep.