It is ironic that one of the few Patrick Troughton stories to exist in its entirety, The War Games, could actually do with being trimmed down an episode or two. An excellent story but, alas, a tad long with many gratuitous scenes that could be cut. As long as all the scenes with the chillingly malicious General Smythe, the dry Von Weich, pompous Security Chief, charismatic War Chief and, most of all, the sneering, soft-spoken War Lord, could all be retained. Cut out some of the escape/getting recaptured scenes perhaps?

This story has always had a fascination for me. I was actually born on the year it came out (1968) so the first I knew of it was when the target book by Malcolm Hulke came out in...oh dear. 1981? Normally I had no interest in Dr Who books other than the ones being televised at that time, but what I knew about this story had an increasing fascination for me. It wasn't a typical DW story by any means, something apparently was to happen to the second Doctor by the end of the book to make him regenerate, the time lords were to be involved for the first time ever...my curiosity so got the better of me that I bought the novel and was thoroughly captivated. Malcolm Hulke's dialogue was as sharp as ever, yet there is absolutely no description at all of the War Lord. He just appears two thirds into the book. My young mind pictured him as a tall, dramatic figure in long, flowing robes! Imagine then some months later in a DW magazine there is a photo of the character...I was flabbergasted! This short, dapper figure with the beard, thick glasses and high forehead: this was the War Lord? And yet this character who seldom spoke above a murmur even when threatening someone with death is easily the most evil 'human' villain in DW's history.

Which point brings me to the video, seen years later. These aliens with their war games are evil and without compassion, excellent baddies, but to look at they are middle aged, balding, short, bespectacled...utterly unremarkable, but this is all the more chilling. Evil is not just looking like an Ice Warrior, a Cyberman or even a Dominator...the alien race in the War Games have the evil in their souls.

The plot was easy for my young mind to grasp also, being fairly simplistic in concept unlike, say, Logopolis which at the time I confess to being baffled about plotwise until the book came out several years later. The War Games is highly dramatic, not least of all for the shock ending. The little Doctor and his companions for once do not win through at the end, and its all the more shocking because right till the end one is rooting for them, thinking they might make it. And as for Jamie and Zoe...was there ever a more poignant scene than the one at the end when they are forced to depart due to the time lords' intervention?

On a lighter note, fans of Blackadder Goes Forth will see very definite similarities between that and episodes 1-3 of the War Games.....the chвteau, the trenches, the captain, the general, the adjutant with his form obsession....I guess Ben Elton was a DW fan as a child.

Absolutely brilliant. 10 out of 10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

‘The Ice Warriors’ is a story with which I am surprisingly unfamiliar, due purely to its archive status; whilst I obtained bootleg recordings of many missing episodes some years ago, including most of Season Five, I only had audio recordings of the two missing episodes of ‘The Ice Warriors’ and only saw the surviving episodes when they were released on video fairly recently. I’d read the novelisation a couple of times in the past, but however good some of them are they are rarely an adequate substitute. This may be why I love ‘The Ice Warriors’ so much; it was unseen Troughton and having reached it during my ongoing series-watching odyssey, I was watching it for only the second time. In terms of availability, it rivals ‘The Tomb of the Cybermen’ for my affections, since two-thirds of it are happily in existence in their original form, allowing us an all-too infrequent chance to experience Troughton’s performance as the Doctor complete with facial expressions. More importantly, in terms of plot, acting and production, it more than holds its own.

‘The Ice Warriors’ benefits from excellent production values. The snow-bound sets are extremely convincing and seldom look artificial, unlike the similar sets in ‘The Tenth Planet’; the ice cliffs and the various blocks that fall whenever the glacier advances manage to avoid looking like polystyrene. The scenes in which Penley hauls Jamie across the ice are well done and look like they are actually shot outside; the footage of the Bear helps to create this illusion. The Ice Base also looks effective, probably because it has been built within a converted mansion, and the BBC have always been good at period set pieces; in addition, the juxtaposition of the advanced technology of the ioniser controls and the wood-paneled wall is rather memorable. The only slightly disappointing set is the interior of the Ice Warrior spaceship, which is minimalist to the point of being dull although I probably wouldn’t have noticed so much if it weren’t for the recent impressive sets of the Dalek city on Skaro (‘The Evil of the Daleks’) and the Cybertombs on Telos (‘The Tomb of the Cybermen’). Such are the bizarre side effects of watching the series in broadcast order… The costumes of the guest cast are also effective; I’ll discuss the Warriors themselves below, but it’s worth mentioning that the futuristic costumes worn by the base personnel, although clearly products of the sixties, manage not to look absurd, which is of course not always the case with humans from the future in the series. In addition, Penley and Storr look authentically scruffy. I also feel that the unusual opening sequences of each episode are of note.

The chilling unearthly wailing of the incidental score over shots of icy tundra nicely sets the tone at the start of each episode. 

The Ice Warriors themselves are hugely impressive. The costumes are distinctive and memorable, and the use of large actors coupled with this makes them physically imposing. I gather that Brian Hayles’s description of them in his script was vaguely similar to that of the Cybermen, but the decision to make them reptilian instead was a good one. Their bulbous armoured torsos, clamp-like hands and the copious tufts of hair at their joints combine to achieve a great visual effect. The fact that they are essentially armour plated also avoids the need for entirely flexible rubber costumes for the actors, which seldom look entirely convincing, since they tend to obviously crease at the joints. The Warriors also look and sound convincingly alien and this is helped considerably by the make-up around the actors mouths; Terrance Dicks’ stock description for Ice Warrior mouths in his novelisations of ‘The Seeds of Death’ and ‘The Monster of Peladon’ is “lipless slit”, and here it is certainly true. In close up, Varga’s mouth has no definition, it is simply a lopsided gash in his face, which is strangely disturbing and makes him seem truly non-human. 

In terms of characterisation, the Ice Warriors are made sufficiently distinct, despite the fact that only Varga and Zondall have many lines. It has become common to criticize Season Five for using the same basic “base-under-siege” plotline, and whilst this is to an extent true, it is also slightly unfair. So far this season, ‘The Abominable Snowmen’ is one such story whilst ‘The Tomb of the Cybermen’ is not really. I’ll discuss the recurrence of this plot type again when I get to other such stories, but for now I simply want to contrast ‘The Ice Warriors’ with its immediate predecessor. In ‘The Abominable Snowmen’, the base in question is Det-Sen monastery. It is indeed under siege from a powerful threat that is already establishing itself outside by the time the Doctor arrives, is motivated entirely by a desire for conquest, and secretly lurks within the base itself. In ‘The Ice Warriors’, the base is the Ice Base (the name is a real giveaway), and it is under siege, but primarily from the glacier. The Ice Warriors themselves have very different motivations from the Great Intelligence, and it is this that, for me, makes this story distinct, rather than just another base-under-siege story. The Ice Warriors are desperate; their ship is trapped in ice and needs power, there are only a handful of them, and they need to survive. True, Varga talks of conquering Earth if returning to Mars is not a viable option, but his immediate priority is to save his warriors and his ship. Only once, in episode five, do they actually attack the base, and this is in an attempt to obtain mercury isotopes for their reactor. For the most part, the threat they represent to the base is the danger of their reactor exploding if the ioniser is used at full strength, and the threat of the glaciers if the ioniser is consequently not used. It is worth noting of course, that although survival is the motivation, they are hardly sympathetic, and it is this more than their appearance that casts them as “monsters”. Varga is not only ruthless, but also a bully; he seems to take grim satisfaction in picking on Victoria especially, and his brutal, out-of-hand slaying of Storr is utterly callous. Storr presents no threat to the Ice Warriors; he is merely of no use to them. Zondall is even worse than his leader, and is positively sadistic, most notably when he tells Victoria that she will have cause to cry when Varga returns. This then, is why I think that the Ice Warriors work so well as monsters in this story; they look great, they have a logical motivation, and they are decidedly villainous. 

The Ice Warriors are not the sole reason for the success of this story however; the rest of the guest cast is uniformly excellent. Worthy of particular note are Peter Barkworth as Clent, and Peter Sallis as Penley. Clent is a superb character and very well acted. Another criticism of the Troughton era is that it is filled with unstable base commanders; in fact, I can only think of two and they are Robson (‘Fury From the Deep’) and Jarvis Bennett (‘The Wheel in Space’). Hobson (‘The Moonbase’) hardly qualifies as unstable, and neither I submit, does Clent. It is established in episode one that he hasn’t slept for nearly two days, and throughout the story he is placed under tremendous strain, the entire safety of human civilization literally in his hands, since the success of the ionization programme overall depends on every single base. Moreover, the only solutions which either the Doctor or Penley can come up with (and which eventually work) contradict the orders of World Control, who he is let us remember supposed to obey. In fact, the worst that Clent does is near the verge of panic in episode six; aside from that he is tense and irritable, but understandably so. In addition, he listens to reason; although he finds dealing with Penley especially difficult, he is won over by the Doctor’s arguments several times and it is worth noting that in episode five he realises, despite the objections of Miss Garrett, that the computer cannot help them with the situation they face. Ultimately, he allows Penley to use the ioniser at full strength in episode six, take the risk of destroying them all, and ultimately save the base from both the Ice Warriors and the glacier. He’s proud, arrogant, stubborn and bad-tempered, and spends the entire story under enormous stress, but I don’t agree that he’s unstable. And his finest moment is when he apologizes to Penley at the end. 

Peter Sallis puts in an impressive performance as Penley. He is of course crucial to the story because he represents the rebellious side of human nature; he is basically a decent human being and an excellent scientist, but he abandons the Ice Base because when he can no longer cope with the authority and regulations represented by Clent. He is also a likeable and sympathetic character, having formed a friendship with the otherwise scientist-hating Storr and also easily befriending both Jamie and the Doctor, the latter of whom is in many ways a kindred spirit. He is motivated largely by conscience; he helps Jamie because he is wounded, despite Storr’s protestations at bringing a stranger back to the cave, and he helps against the Ice Warriors because he has seen that they are killers. This presents him with a problem; by abandoning the base, which is in desperate need of his expertise, he not only leaves the base personnel at the mercy of the glaciers, but also threatens the entire world programme. Even when Miss Garrett tries to convince him to return to the base by reminding him of this, his aversion to Clent’s authority prevents him from agreeing, although his suggestion that the Doctor should use his notes on the Omega Factor allows him to solve all the problems of actually running the ioniser. Eventually, he is drawn into the plight of the base and plays a key role in the story’s denouement; which Clent and Miss Garrett unable to make a decision in the absence of advice from the computer, it is Penley who makes it for them, takes a risk and activates the ioniser, melting the glaciers and destroying the Ice Warriors. 

It is occasionally suggested that ‘The Ice Warriors’ carries an anti-science message; it doesn’t. It does admittedly promote a cautionary attitude; the current ice age has been caused by the use of science to remove carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and humanity is dependent on science to try and reverse the process. But what Hayles’ primary message is that of the importance of individuality, and thus it is the disaffected Penley who is portrayed as the most sympathetic character, refusing to blindly obey rules and regulations and determined not to be governed by machines. Nevertheless, Penley remains a scientist. The Doctor is also used to warn of the dangers of being enslaved by computers, as in episode one when Miss Garrett tells him that the base is computer controlled and he relies “well, never mind”. However, one character alone makes it plain that this message is distinct from an unspecific anti-science message, and this character is Storr. Storr is a complete technophobe and he is not presented in a flattering light; his attitude to science manifests itself as an almost superstitious fear and in short Hayles’ portrays him as a fool. He strides confidently to his death, because he knows that the Ice Warriors killed Arden, a scientist, and therefore assumes that they are against scientists, even though he knows that they are extra-terrestrial and have a spaceship, a product of scientific technology. 

Finally, the regulars are as always on fine form. Jamie fulfills the same role as he usually does, but as usual he does it well. The scene at the end of episode one when he slyly asks Victoria if she could imagine herself in one of the base personnel’s skin-tight apparently PVC uniforms suggests that even if she can’t he can, and is an amusing bit of character interaction. For much of the story he is usual brave and resourceful self, although his temporary paralysis results in him being largely sidelined during the latter half of the story. Troughton as always really steals the show, and displays marvellous range; with so much of ‘The Ice Warriors’ surviving, we are lucky enough to be able to see the look on his face when Varga depressurizes the airlock at the end of episode four, when he struggles unsuccessfully to unstopper the vial of ammonium sulphides in episode five, and at numerous other times, which inevitably serves to enhance the Second Doctor’s considerable charm, strong enough anyway to survive on audio alone. And then there’s Victoria. I noted when I reviewed ‘The Abominable Snowmen’ that it gave the first hint that the novelty of travelling in the TARDIS was starting to wear off, and this continues here. Victoria is her usual excited and inquisitive self when the TARDIS materialises in episode one, and she also demonstrates her bravery again, as even Varga admits when she uses his communicator to contact the base, but she spends three episodes here absolutely terrified. Taken hostage and bullied by Varga and later trapped by the grip of a dead warrior in an unstable icy tunnel, she is constantly on the verge of tears, frightened for her own safety and also wracked with anguish over Jamie’s possible death. When the Doctor joins her at the ship, she clearly draws a great deal of strength and comfort from him, recovers quickly and helps him overcome Zondall and thus defeat Varga, but it is nevertheless interesting to take heed of the increased strain that her travels with the Doctor and Jamie place her under…

In summary then, ‘The Ice Warriors’ continues to maintain the high quality of Season Five and provides an impressive introduction for one the series’ most popular monsters.

It is often pointed out that ‘The Enemy of the World’ is something of an oddity, possessing an entirely different feel to the other stories in Season Five, and this is certainly true. This is by no means a bad thing however, in a season that some fans consider to be repetitive and formulaic. ‘The Enemy of the World’ makes for a refreshing change from the “monster” stories surrounding it, and carries off its James Bond style storyline with considerable panache.

Firstly, ‘The Enemy of the World’ is interesting for its sense of scale; whereas most Doctor Who stories set on Earth take place in England, this story takes place elsewhere in Europe and in Australia. Exactly how effectively the English location work doubles for Australia is questionable; the only visual record of these scenes is the telesnaps (and thus also the Loose Cannon recon), from which it is hard to tell. Consequently, in this regard is entirely possible that the story benefits from finding a new audience as an audio story, since the scope of the story is perhaps over ambitious. The surviving episode three takes place in the European Zone, and is entirely studio bound, although the occasionally mentioned fact that Denes is kept prisoner in a corridor because “it’s easier to guard him” doesn’t inspire confidence in the production teams ability to fully realize the demands on the script on the budget available. Nonetheless, the studio sets seem decent enough; Denes’ headquarters look convincing enough, and based on the recon so does Salamander’s research station and the underground bunker. The costumes too look reasonable enough, although the helmets worn by the guards look horribly dated. Enough speculation about how the overall production however: what about the story?

‘The Enemy of the World’ is an atypical Doctor Who story in that it is largely a political thriller, with a huge dose of James Bond style world-domination plot thrown in for good measure. During the first three episodes, we see a world of the near future divided into Zones, each with its own controller under the overall control of the World Zones Organisation, which has its own security commanded by Donald Bruce, and which is increasingly coming under the influence of the seemingly benevolent Salamander. Whitaker manages to convey this near future society very well via throwaway lines of dialogue referring to two-hour rocket trips from Australia to Europe, and wheat fields in Siberia (courtesy of Salamander’s technology). Later, the emphasis changes to Salamander’s plan to conquer the world, and although he is engineering natural disasters in order to “predict” them and thus gain political leverage by discrediting those who doubt his scientific abilities, he is essentially a James Bond-esque super villain, with a super weapon that can cause earthquakes, volcanoes, and widespread flooding. In lesser hands, this plot could easily become absurd, and descend into moustache-twirling farce akin to Zaroff’s scheme in ‘The Underwater Menace’, but it doesn’t because Whitaker handles it carefully. The true horror of exactly what Salamander is doing is well conveyed through the plight of Swann’s people, and in addition to this, Troughton manages to play Salamander with admirable restraint. 

As the principle villain, Salamander is crucial to the success or failure of ‘The Enemy of the World’. I must inevitably point out that Troughton adopts a cod Mexican accent, which is not even consistent throughout the story, but whilst this is initially rather distracting, it soon dwindles into unimportance in light of the rest of his performance. In addition, although he’s a villain, at least Whitaker is demonstrating that in this future society, someone who isn’t either British or American can rise to a position of considerable power, which is a rare event in Doctor Who in the sixties (due largely of course to the ethnic backgrounds of most of the actors working in Britain at the time). My main appreciation of Troughton’s performance as Salamander is the character’s restraint. Salamander has a silly accent, wears a costume that makes him seem just as eccentric as the Doctor, and is a megalomaniac psychopath; despite this, he never seems fatuous. From the start, he is clearly ruthless and manipulative, organizing the deaths of anyone who threatens his position, including Denes. He is also very clever, having developed the sun-store and revolutionized farming across the entire world. I mentioned Professor Zaroff earlier, and he serves as a useful comparison, since Salamander could easily have been as much a parody as he was, ranting and raving at every opportunity; yet he does not. One of the most notable things about Salamander, other than the obvious fact that he is a doppelganger of the Doctor, is that he always maintains his calm. Many villains in Doctor Who, from the aforementioned Zaroff to Mavic Chen, are prone to outbursts of rage when their plans go astray; not so Salamander. When he discovers that Jamie and Victoria are working for his enemies, he coolly reprimands them in a stern tone; later, when Fedorin fails to poison Denes, he genially beams at him and tells him “You try, you fail, the moon doesn’t fall out of the sky” – and then kills him. This is an effective technique, as it makes him seem all the more unflappable and therefore secure in his power, but never detracts from the air of quiet menace that he exudes. Most impressively of all, he always clearly remains a distinct character from the Doctor, which is tantamount to Troughton’s acting skills. Which compensates for his inability to adopt a convincing Mexican accent…

Salamander’s cool and collected persona contributes even further to making him a memorable villain when the true extent of his evil becomes clear in episode four. He is not merely a ruthless and murderous politician; he is a monster on a far greater scale. It is hinted in episode two that he is responsible for the eruption of the Eperjet Tokyar Mountains, but it is only confirmed when we discover that he has been keeping a group of people prisoner in an underground bunker beneath his research station. The true of horror of this is palpable; for five years, they have endured a nightmarish existence trapped in their subterranean base, believing that the world above is in the midst of a nuclear war, whilst a man that they trust implicitly manipulates them into wiping out large numbers of the population of the world (who also trust him implicitly) in order to increase his personal power. Tragically, whilst Swann’s group are effectively prisoners, they are kept imprisoned by their trust in Salamander and their belief in his lies, rather than any physically barrier that prevents them from leaving the bunker. The bunker scenes are chillingly effective, thanks partly to the excellent incidental score (courtesy of Bartok), and the plight of its occupants is well conveyed by Colin, who is desperate to see the surface once more, and Swann, whose final betrayal and murder by Salamander is truly pitiful. The sheer anguish in Christopher Burgess’ voice as Swann sees the surface for the first time in five years and realises the extent of Salamander’s betrayal is palpable. 

‘The Enemy of the World’ being a David Whitaker script, the characterisation is excellent from the major characters to the minor ones. The most memorable minor character is Griffin, the garrulous chef at Denes headquarters, whose gloomy utterances provide light relief. Of the major characters, Astrid and Fariah are both effective, as are Denes and the nervous, paranoid Fedorin. Arguably the two best supporting characters however are Donald Bruce and Giles Kent. Both of these are examples of Whitaker’s skill at story telling, as both the viewer’s attitudes to both are first steered in one direction and later confounded. Initially, Colin Douglas’ Donald Bruce is suggested to be a villain; he barges arrogantly into Kent’s offices and is seemingly loyal to Salamander. It gradually becomes clear however that this is not the case; in episode three his orders that Denes be treated with respect whilst under arrest hint that he is both fair and honest, and this is finally confirmed in episode five as the Doctor gains his trust and he proves willing to give them the benefit of the doubt and help to investigate Salamander. His seeming loyalty to Salamander early on is misleading; he is simply determined to do his job properly and to the best of his abilities, and his job is to protect Salamander in the absence of evidence that he has committed a crime. Giles Kent on the other hand, excellently portrayed by Bill Kerr, is the reverse of Bruce in that for most of the story he seems to be on the side of the heroes by virtue of opposing Salamander, until the final episode, where the Doctor tricks him into revealing his part in Salamander’s past schemes by, ironically, employing the very trick that Kent has been trying to persuade him to for most of the story; impersonating Salamander. Kent’s true nature is signposted; early on he arranges for Bruce to call in on him, forcing the Doctor to impersonate Salamander on the spot, which is a risky gambit considering the importance Kent places on the opportunity presented by the Doctor. This suggests that Kent will take desperate measures to achieve his ends. Later, he tries to blackmail the Doctor into executing Salamander in exchange for help saving Jamie and Victoria, a ruthless streak that proves to be his undoing, as it alerts the Doctor to his true nature. This is underplayed however, so that the revelation about Kent’s part in setting up the bunker and his knowledge that Salamander is causing natural disasters is still an effective twist, and this is helped by Benik’s earlier persecution of Kent. 

Benik really deserves a mention. Milton Johns’ portrayal is ludicrously camp, but somehow works. It is perhaps slightly over the top, but Benik is such an unpleasant character that he gets away with it, especially when he threatens to shoot either Jamie or Victoria, to main but not to wound. He so obviously means it that he doesn’t seem remotely amusing, and the same is true when he reacts with obvious frustration to the discovery that someone else has killed Fariah before he could. As Bruce says with disgust at the end, he really is “a nasty little man”. 

The regulars are ever reliable; ironically, Troughton’s dual performance sidelines the Doctor for much of the story, but his staunch refusal to act against Salamander without evidence of a crime contrasts nicely with his ruthless doppelganger. Crucially, he is instrumental in exposing Kent, although he doesn’t actually interfere with Salamander’s plans significantly; it is Swann’s discovery of the newspaper and Astrid’s discovery of Swann that cause his undoing, although Kent’s accidental confession to the Doctor does convince Bruce of Salamander’s crimes. It is fitting that the Doctor and Salamander do get a confrontation, albeit one that is brief and somewhat contrived, tacked on as it is at the very end and in the TARDIS. It does provide a nice cliffhanger into ‘The Web of Fear’ though. Having been terrified by Varga for most of the previous story, Victoria gets something of respite, although being threatened by Benik is undoubtedly unpleasant. Jamie on the other hand gets to play the man of action as he pretends to save Salamander’s life, and the scenes in which he confidentially bluffs his way into Salamander’s employ is a reminder of how useful a companion he is. Overall, ‘The Enemy of the World’ is an oddity, but not an unwelcome one, and Season Five is more than strong enough to cope with an atypical story, especially one as entertaining as this.

‘The Moonbase’ is notable for being the first of several Troughton “base under siege” stories, but is the second such story to feature in the series as a whole. The reason for it being the second such story is that it is largely a retread of ‘The Tenth Planet’. Despite this however, it is a rather different beast from Hartnell’s swan song. In my opinion, it simply isn’t as good as its predecessor, since despite being only four episodes long, it somehow manages to feel padded. This is due largely to episode two. The first episode of ‘The Moonbase’ establishes the story’s setting well and has a suitably chilling feel to it due to the unexplained disappearances of the moonbase personnel, helped by the eerie incidental score. The problem is, at the end of episode one, we see a Cyberman, and although it looks somewhat different from the Cybermen in ‘The Tenth Planet’, Polly is on hand to tell the viewer what it is in case they didn’t recognise it. After this however, we get approximately twenty minutes of pure padding, as the Doctor tries to find the source of the mystery illness that is striking down the moonbase staff, during which time he mostly clowns around irritating everybody by stealing their boots. The occasional cameo by the Cyberman reminds us of the creatures’ presence, but since we already know that they are lurking, any potential tension is diffused and the viewer (or at least, this viewer) merely wants the plot to advance. This eventually happens just before the end of episode two, as the Doctor identifies the sugar as the source of Cybermen’s virus, and then a Cyberman emerges from its hiding place under a sheet. This cliffhanger is actually fairly daft, especially as the Cyberman gets out of bed in a way that suggests that it badly needs its first cup of tea of the day. The first half of the story would have been far more effective in my opinion had the presence of the Cybermen been maintained a secret up until this point. From the start of episode three onwards however, things improve somewhat. A sense of claustrophobia is created by the fact that the human occupants of the base are well and truly trapped, with rampaging Cybermen outside and their mind-controlled servants within. The importance of the gravitron to Earth is well conveyed, and tension is maintained throughout the latter half of the story as the Cybermen relentlessly attack in one way or another. Even after the first three Cybermen in the base are destroyed, more appear outside in even larger numbers, and continuously terrorize the humans in the base, whether by cutting off their communications or taking remote control of the gravitron via Evans and using it to plunge the rescue ship into the sun, or by drilling a hole in the dome and thus letting the air out. The direction and incidental score are both crucial to maintaining this tense atmosphere, and do so most effectively, especially the dramatic Cyberman theme reused from ‘The Tenth Planet’. In particular, the bizarre appearance of those base personnel who have succumbed to the Cybermen’s neurotrope X is highly effective and rather disturbing. The moon surface sets and model work (except for the rather feeble Cybermen space ships) are also impressive and recreate the surface of the moon more than adequately. The utilitarian sets used for the actual moonbase are rather drab, but intentionally so. 

The Cybermen have been extensively redesigned since ‘The Tenth Planet’ and both lose and gain from this. 

They are far less human, and no longer have fleshy hands or cloth-covered faces, resulting in a more robotic appearance. This removes some of the grotesque body horror impact of the creatures and unfortunately makes them seem more like actual robots and less like surgically altered humans. On the other hand, their faces are more blank and impassive than previously, which makes them seem more intimidating, and the script and direction combined with this succeed in making them scarier than before. The scene in which a Cyberman chases Benoit across the moon’s surface is particularly gripping, but other scenes of note are the remorseless march of numerous Cybermen towards the moonbase and their casual tearing apart of the radio antennae which is made more sinister than might be expected by the sudden and chilling musical sting that accompanies it. Their new voices are more monotonous and less macabre than their singsong lilt from ‘The Tenth Planet’, and are far more menacing. The less human appearance of these Cybermen is partly compensated for by the fact that we actually see them altering humans for the first time, by using the neurotrope X to make them susceptible to mind control. The zombie-like state to which Evans and the others are reduced is the first time we actually see a hint of the process of cyber-conversion and the resulting dehumanization that inspired Kit Peddlar when he created them. Unfortunately, their lack of emotions, a supposedly distinctive feature of the Cybermen, is rather undermined by some atrocious scripting in episode three as one of the Cybermen takes the piss out of the humans (“only stupid earth brains like yours would have been fooled”) and also employs sarcasm (“clever, clever, clever”). This lapse is confined to one scene, but is incredibly irritating. 

The regulars do not benefit especially well from ‘The Moonbase’. The Doctor spends most of the time prevaricating, although he does identify the source of the neurotrope X, and also comes up with the means to defeat the Cybermen at the end. Nevertheless, the story is plotted in such a way that he really doesn’t seem to do much. On the other hand, Troughton gets the oft-quoted lines “There are some corners of the universe that have bred the most terrible things. Things that act against everything we believe in. They must be fought”. As in ‘The Power of the Daleks’, the Doctor could probably leave in the TARDIS if he wanted to, but refuses, preferring to stay and root out evil. Compare this to his attitude in ‘100,000 BC’ and ‘The Mutants’, and it reminds us how much he’s changed since the series began. As for the companions, ‘The Moonbase’ suffers from the same problem as ‘The Underwater Menace’ in that Jamie is surplus to the requirements of the script. The solution to this problem here is slightly better than in the previous story in that he spends two episodes in bed rather than just acting as a silent shadow to Ben. His need to recover from his head injury at least provides initial justification for the TARDIS crew to remain on the Moon, and his (slightly embarrassing) “phantom piper” scenes at least play a role in revealing the story’s protagonists to the viewer. Polly at least gets to shine briefly by coming up with the means to defeat the first wave of Cybermen, although the fact that none of the solvents mentioned would attack any type of plastic likely to be included in the construction of the Cybermen never ceases to annoy the lab-worker in me (in the unlikely event that the Cybermen’s chest units are made primarily of polystyrene, some of the solvents might have an effect, but certainly not that quickly). 

The supporting characters are fairly forgettable. The attempt to show a multi-national moonbase crew is admirable if rather inadequate, but none of them get much characterisation; only Hobson is even remotely memorable. On the whole, ‘The Moonbase’ more-or-less succeeds as a claustrophobic thriller, but is ultimately flawed. Nevertheless, it establishes the Cybermen as recurring monsters and for that at least is notable.

Rather like ‘Galaxy 4’, ‘The Macra Terror’ is something of a forgotten gem, a well-written little story that tends to be forgotten amongst the extant stories, or the missing stories featuring classic monsters such as the Daleks and the Cybermen. Since I first got the soundtrack when it was released on cassette during the early nineties, I’ve come to appreciate it more and more, but on listening to it again as part of the series as a whole I’ve just decided that it is in fact a work of genius and a truly marvellous Doctor Who story. 

‘The Macra Terror’ has several things going for it. First of all, the basic plot is approached in a suitably novel way; the Macra have infiltrated and enslaved a human colony, but in such a way that most of the colonists are largely under the impression that the colony is perfect and that life couldn’t get any better. The entire indoctrination and propaganda subplot works to great effect from the start; when the Doctor and his friends arrive they are treated as honoured guests and invited to enjoy the holiday camp atmosphere of the colony to its fullest, offered massages, hair care, and general luxury. However, it soon becomes clear to the viewer that this warm and fuzzy surface has more sinister undercurrents; Ola mentions that anyone who breaks the colony curfew and ventures outside at night will be killed, which is rather at odds with the general air of relaxation and happiness, and the vacuous and nauseating “happy to work” broadcasts from Control become increasingly insistent and gradually more intimidating, hinting that anyone who refuses to work for the benefit of the colony as a whole (or as it transpires, the Macra) will not merely be prevented from reaping the rewards this seemingly cooperative society offers, but will actively be punished. And this is all just in episode one. It soon becomes evident of course that the colonists are being brainwashed and are indeed “happy to work” because they are effectively being drugged and hypnotized whilst they sleep every night. Even more disturbingly, some of them are vaguely aware of what is really going on, but do not resist. The Pilot seems unsurprised by the Doctor’s revelation that his quarters contain the brainwashing equipment (although he does seem to be in denial), and continually refuses to believe the Doctor, Polly or Medok’s claims about the monsters at large amongst them until he actually sees the Macra in Control in episode four. Ola is even more willing to obey Control despite being seemingly aware of the Macra from at least the beginning of episode two, since he has power within the current status quo. But they clearly know about the Macra, as the scene in which Control hysterically screams “There are no such things as Macra!” makes clear – significantly, it is only when Control denies the existence of the creatures that we even learn what they are called. The entire metaphorical sugarcoated pill of the colony’s true nature is superbly conveyed. Even in the mines, where “unhappy” colonists are literally worked to death, the supervisors and the Pilot manage to convince themselves that the workers deserve their fate. Part of the success of this story is due to the acting of the guest cast, who are uniformly excellent, especially the ever-reliable Peter Jeffrey as the Pilot, Gertan Klauber as Ola, and Terence Lodge as Medok. The Pilot and Ola work well because they show different facets of authority; both work for a totalitarian regime, but whilst the Pilot seems to genuinely care for the well-being of the colonists, and eventually rebels against Control when he discovers that giant crabs are actually in charge, Ola is instead on a power trip and enjoys his position because he gets to enforce the rules. He takes obvious malicious glee in dealing with first Medok and later the Doctor and his companions. Medok, the sole voice of dissent in the colony (at least as far as the viewer is concerned, although it is made clear that he had predecessors), is excellently portrayed and is Lodge acts with maximum intensity from the start; his cry of “have fun while you can before they crawl all over you!” manages to be genuinely disturbing rather than daft and over-the-top, and Medok maintains this frantic edge throughout. He knows perfectly well that he isn’t mad, but eventually changes from desperately trying to convince the other colonists that monsters roam at night to bitterly accepting that they don’t want to know after Ola captures him and the Doctor at the start of episode two. 

‘The Macra Terror’ also benefits from the fact that it is the only television Doctor Who story to make effective use of this TARDIS crew. For the first and last time, good use is made of both Ben and Jamie in the same story, in addition to Polly and the Doctor. Because Ben succumbs to the colony’s brainwashing, he betrays his friends for what he briefly sees as the good of the many, allowing Jamie to take over the main action role. But Ben benefits from this himself, as he finds himself torn between his indoctrinated need to obey the rules of the colony without question, and his loyalty to his friends. This comes to the fore in episode two, when he risks his life to save Polly from the Macra, but later vehemently denies the existence of such creatures, accepting the colony line that “there are no such things as Macra!” in spite of the evidence of his own eyes. Ultimately of course his true nature reasserts itself and it is Ben who finally destroys the insidious threat of the Macra. Jamie meanwhile takes over Ben’s usual role with aplomb, and is the subject of episode three’s cliffhanger as he finds himself caught between two Macra. Rather than panicking, he demonstrates his resourcefulness and courage to the greatest effect thus since ‘The Highlanders’ and determinedly tries to escape. Later, when he finds himself confronted by dancers, he quickly assesses the situation and accepts the unwittingly offered cover story of being a dancer, demonstrating his ability to think on his feet, which he hasn’t any opportunity to do until this point. Polly too is used effectively; the established pairing of her and Ben allows her to challenge her friend’s newly enforced beliefs about the colony without the antagonism that this produces in Jamie. She also gets to scream “Macra! They’re in Control!!” rather effectively at the end of episode two. But it is Troughton who really steals the show. 

For the first time since ‘The Power of the Daleks’ (in which he seemingly knew that he would encounter Daleks on Vulcan), the Second Doctor gets proactive. Armed with foreknowledge of giant clawed monsters thanks to the rather gimmicky use of the time scanner at the end of ‘The Moonbase’, the Doctor sets about searching for the hidden menace that lurks within the colony from the outset and clearly takes delight in doing so. I noted when I reviewed ‘The Highlanders’ that having been presented with the problem of rescuing his friends, he seemed to be enjoying himself, and I also get that impression from ‘The Macra Terror’. Throughout the story, he searches for the truth, but more than that he tries to encourage others to do the same. When he says “bad laws were made to be broken”, I don’t think that he’s advocating anarchy per se (as some have suggested), but rather he’s railing against blind obedience of rules and advocating independent thought. In fact he says as much to Polly whilst checking to see if he has been too late to prevent her brainwashing. The Doctor is basically at his best throughout ‘The Macra Terror’, whether he’s proudly confessing to having sabotaged the conditioning apparatus in his companions’ rooms, or deducing the formula for controlling the gas flow so well that he smugly gives himself 10 marks out of 10 only to change this score to 11 out of 10 when the Pilot is visibly stunned by his mental agility. 

Finally, the Macra themselves are monsters in the traditional Doctor Who vein. The single Macra prop looks merely okay in the main surviving photograph, but in the surviving censor clips recently recovered, it is clearly used to rather splendid effect thanks to good lighting and direction. The concept of the Macra also works well, and although Control is essentially the chief Macra (which is white according to The Television Companion) and therefore presumably the booming voice heard throughout, no Macra is ever explicitly seen to speak; this is quite effective, since whenever anyone is menaced by one of the creatures, rather than having them gloating or explaining their plans, they are a silent menace. Clearly they are intelligent (exactly how they took over the colony in the first place is unclear, although the Doctor surmises that they came to the surface of the planet and found the colony there, implying that they are native to the planet and originally dwelt underground, which would make sense given their dependence on the gas found beneath the colony), but by keeping them largely silent, their intelligence seems more alien than it perhaps would if they directly spoke to anyone. 

In summary, ‘The Macra Terror’ is, at least in my opinion, a truly underrated classic and one deserving of a much greater reputation than it currently enjoys.

‘The Evil of the Daleks’ is a masterpiece. Based on the soundtrack and episode two alone, it vies with ‘The Power of the Daleks’ for the title of my favourite Second Doctor story and it is one of my top ten favourite Doctor Who stories of all time. The reasons for this are many.

Firstly, the characterisation is superb. Whitaker always excels at this, and here is no exception. In episode one alone, we meet four characters, three of who are not present for most of the rest of the story, but who are all satisfying characters in their own right. Bob Hall, Kennedy, and Perry all play their parts in luring the Doctor and Jamie to Waterfield’s antiques shop, but they also serve another purpose in that they allow us to learn about the character of Edward Waterfield. We know from very early on that he is working for the Daleks and is luring the Doctor into a trap, which would normally be enough to make him a villain. Instead, via conversations between Waterfield and Kennedy and Waterfield and Perry, we learn more about his true character; clearly he is under enormous stress caused in part by his current actions, and is a reluctant conspirator. This is obvious from his fraught conversation with the Dalek in the hidden room, but the feeling is enhanced by his concern for Bob Hall when Kennedy explains that he knocked him out – Waterfield is clearly not accustomed to, or comfortable with, violence. He is also slightly aggrieved when Perry tells his employer that he won’t do anything “dicey”; Perry has clearly gathered that Waterfield’s strange behaviour has more to it than he is being allowed to see, but whilst this is true, Waterfield in turn is clearly unhappy that Perry believes that he might be a criminal. Finally, at the beginning of episode two, Waterfield discovers the corpse of the exterminated Kennedy and in that moment is shown to be completely out of his depth, as he almost breaks down on the spot. This then, is the secondary function of these characters; whilst they advance the plot by getting the Doctor to Waterfield and ultimately to the Daleks, they also allow us to gain insight into Waterfield’s character. That they are so well defined as characters is testament to the writing skills of David Whitaker. In short, whilst they are to an extent padding, they never actually feel like padding, so well portrayed are they. Likewise, later in the story we have Toby and Arthur Terrall, both of whom are seemingly superfluous to the larger plot; indeed, we never do learn why exactly Terrall ordered Toby to kidnap Jamie. Closer scrutiny reveals however that they play a subtler role; Arthur Terrall is under Dalek control, but the process used is erratic. Whilst it is clearly more advanced than the technology used to create the zombie-like Robomen in ‘The Dalek Invasion of Earth’ since it allows Terrall to retain his intelligence and personality, it is unreliable, since he frequently shakes free of the Dalek influence, leaving him confused and disorientated. Toby is used to demonstrate this, by presenting Terrall with Jamie and demanding his payment, causing both Jamie and subsequently the Doctor to realize that all is not well with him. This may seem trivial, but once the Daleks’ true plans are revealed, it makes sense, since the Daleks clearly cannot reliably control humans in this manner and therefore perfect the Dalek Factor instead; once processed, Maxtible is the perfect human servant, combining the loyalty and dedication of the Robomen with the intelligence of the original human. Toby also serves another purpose, since his extermination allows us to contrast Waterfield’s earlier reaction to Kennedy’s death with Maxtible’s far more self-serving reaction…

Maxtible and Waterfield are crucial to the success of ‘The Evil of the Daleks’. Here we see two men, both working with the Daleks, but for entirely different reasons and with hugely different characters. Waterfield is motivated by a desire to have his daughter released by the Daleks, which is his sole reason for abducting the Doctor and Jamie and going along with the Daleks’ schemes. John Bailey’s performance is outstanding, making Waterfield a hugely sympathetic figure and conveying a feeling throughout that Waterfield is close to a complete breakdown, caused by concern for Victoria and guilt at his part in the deaths of Kennedy and Toby and his part in a plan that he believes will make the Daleks invincible. Bailey is so convincing that it is hard to believe that he’s actually acting at times, genuinely seeming emotionally exhausted right up until the final episode. Waterfield’s sacrifice, his own life for the Doctor’s, seems appropriate to his character. He tells Maxtible that once he has Victoria back, he will confess his part in the entire affair, including the death of Toby and is clearly seeking to redeem himself for his part in the Daleks’ plan; in saving the Doctor he finds this redemption, and as the Doctor promises to the dying man that he will take care of Victoria, he seems to also finally, find some peace. It is a surprisingly touching moment, demonstrating Whitaker’s ability to make the viewer care about supporting characters just as much as the regulars. Maxtible on the other hand (flamboyantly portrayed by Marius Goring), is a willing accomplice in the Daleks’ schemes, having been promised the secret of transforming “metal into gold!”, and therefore unimaginable wealth and power. He is motivated purely by greed, with a callous disregard for Waterfield, who clearly considers him a friend, and also his daughter and her boyfriend, the latter of whom he regards with clinical interest as Terrall suffers under Dalek control. It is inevitable that Maxtible will pay the price for his alliance with the Daleks, just as Mavic Chen did in ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’. Despite this comparison however, Chen and Maxtible are very different characters. Chen was fully aware of the Daleks’ reputation and did not trust them in the slightest, but considered the risks of an alliance to be worthwhile, since the possible gains far outweighed them. Maxtible however, underestimates the Daleks from the start. He seems to genuinely believe, in spite of increasing evidence to the contrary, that he has entered into an arrangement with the Daleks, which they will honour. When he impatiently confronts a Dalek over their delay in honoring their side of the bargain, he finds himself physically attacked and is clearly frightened by this; immediately after the Dalek leaves however, he frantically justifies its response, obviously trying to convince himself that the Daleks simply have their own way of going about their affairs, which is different from his own, but that this doesn’t automatically mean that he cannot trust them. He is, in short, blinded by greed. Significantly, shortly after this confrontation, he sets about manipulating Terrall into obeying him, assuring him that the Daleks are confident in Maxtible’s judgement; having had his authority challenged by the Daleks, he desperately needs to assert it elsewhere and chooses Terrall because he is a vulnerable target. In addition, it was Terrall who stopped him from shooting Waterfield earlier on, at which time it was Terrall who was in a position of authority, and by reversing this Maxtible restores his self-confidence. However much he tries to convince himself that he is going to benefit from his alliance with the Daleks however, it is repeatedly made clear to him how woefully mistaken he is; the destruction of his house is the most obvious example, but once on Skaro he still tries to justify the Daleks actions, because the lure of what they offer is so strong; he impotently chastises them like naughty school children, only to have his confident faзade shattered once more as he is threatened with severe consequences for failing to bring the Doctor to Skaro. Later, in the cell, he tries to convince Victoria and Kemel that he is the only person who can mediate with the Daleks in their behalf, but he is again trying to convince himself of his own importance rather than his companions. Tellingly, he also tries to convince them of the need to mollify him if they want to benefit from his supposed friendship with the Daleks; here, he seems to be finally realizing that he has made a series of terrible mistakes, and wants to ally himself with his fellow humans because he is at that point rejected by both them and the Daleks. This selfish remorse is swiftly dispelled however, when the Daleks finally offer him the secret of transforming metal into gold; once more blinded by greed, he refuses to heed the Doctor’s warnings and surrenders his humanity to the Dalek factor. 

The regulars are well served by ‘The Evil of the Daleks’, with both Troughton and Hines impressing as usual, and Deborah Watling getting a strong debut. I’ve noted that in both ‘The Macra Terror’ and ‘The Faceless Ones’, the Doctor seems to be enjoying getting involved enormously. This story is no exception, but on this occasion, he makes a serious error of judgement. During the first two episodes he is motivated by the need to recover his ship, and as he solves the clues provided by Waterfield to lure him into the trap, he gets to show off his deductive skills, easily following the trail of the TARDIS to the antique shop. This part of the story has been criticized for the fact that these clues are rather too obscure, but I don’t think this is really the case; the only leap he really has to make is finding the matches, and going to the coffee shop where they were purchased. Prior to that, he simply follows the blatantly suspect Bob Hall, and afterwards Perry meets him and tells him where to go. Having been transported back in time to 1866, he is immediately intrigued by the plight of Waterfield and Maxtible, and is clearly burning with curiosity as they begin to explain. When the Dalek actually bursts out of the cabinet however, the look on Troughton’s face is a testament to his acting talents, combing horror and even fear at having realized just who has set the trap that he calmly walked into. Having learned of what he thinks is the Daleks’ plan however, he soon settles into his previous pattern of trying to manipulate his opponents. He is obviously wary of the Daleks, gravely confirming Waterfield’s fears about how deadly they really are, but he quickly seems to become absorbed by his task of monitoring Jamie’s progress through Maxtible’s house in search of Victoria Waterfield. His irrepressible curiosity also comes to the fore once more, during a wonderfully quotable scene in which he confronts the controlled but unstable Terrall and tells him “I am not a student of human nature, I am a professor of a far wider academy of which human nature is only a part. All forms of life interest me.” More than anything however, it his manipulative streak that is most obvious, as he helps the Daleks because he strongly suspects that introducing the Human Factor into them will not have the effect that he thinks they desire. Ultimately, he is able to turn this fact to his advantage and the possible final destruction of the Daleks on Skaro, but he almost comes undone as the Emperor reveals its real plan… Whilst I’ve never seen the missing episode six, I can always imagine the smug look on the Doctor’s face as he proclaims “I’ve defeated you, I don’t care what you do to me now”, and I can always imagine his face falling as the Emperor retorts “The Human Factor showed us what the Dalek Factor is”. Ultimately, it his only his immunity to the Dalek Factor, not predicted by the Emperor, that allows him to finally defeat the Daleks. During the final episode, as the Doctor salvages victory, he is once again frantic, cajoling humanized Daleks into fighting the Emperor’s black-domed Daleks and telling them to ask the Emperor why they must obey orders. As he leaves Skaro and looks down on the carnage, the relief in his voice as he quietly mutters “the final end” is palpable. The entire story encompasses some of Troughton’s finest moments. Jamie (and indeed, Frazer Hines) meanwhile gets his own chance to shine, as he takes centre stage during episodes three to five. Inevitably, the largely action based sequences as he narrowly avoids the plethora of traps prepared by Maxtible and the Daleks don’t work as well on audio as they probably did in the original television story, but Jamie still comes across well without the visuals. His determination to save Victoria and do what he sees as the right thing regardless of the Doctor’s seeming objections emphasizes that he is not just the Doctor’s loyal companion, but a decent and heroic character in his own right; we’ve seen his bravery before when he faced two Macra in the tunnel and later boarded the Chameleon Tours aeroplane, but here he is at his bravest and most resourceful, overcoming every obstacle in his path. More than that however, we get to see other character traits as he saves and quickly befriends Kemel. In addition, his reconciliation with the Doctor in episode five cements their friendship once more, and really establishes the bond between that characterizes this Doctor/Companion relationship. Victoria also impresses; whilst she is clearly there to fill the traditional screaming female companion role, she is far braver and more resilient than a closeted Victorian upbringing might suggest. Although clearly terrified and on the edge of hysteria whilst a prisoner of the Daleks, in her very first scene she is also defiant in as much as she dares. Later, as soon as she has other human company, she seems to draw strength from it; when she, Kemel and Maxtible are imprisoned on Skaro, she focuses on her concern for Kemel rather than on her own fear, and makes her contempt for Maxtible plain, as well as continuing to show defiance to the Daleks. Because she remains a prisoner for most of the story, she gets very little else to do, but these character traits and Deborah Watling’s portrayal make Victoria instantly likeable.

Finally, there are the Daleks themselves. If they were cunning and manipulative in ‘The Power of the Daleks’, then here they are positively Machiavellian. The cliffhanger to episode six, which I’ve mentioned above, is a classic moment, made all the more memorable by the revelation of the visually impressive (judging by the photographs at least) Emperor Dalek. 

The Emperor is a creation that I’m particularly fond of, despite the fact that only appears for little more than one episode. The reason that I like it is because it provides a focal point for the Daleks’ absolute evil, a central governing mastermind sitting like a spider at the heart of the Dalek Empire. And frankly, I just think it looks and sounds great, which is why I’m glad that Big Finish have used it in their Dalek Empire stories. According to Andrew Pixley’s archive in Doctor Who Magazine issue 200, after the final battle at the very end of episode seven, the lights in its shattered casing come back on, to indicate that this may not be the final end of the Daleks, and I like to think that the Emperor, in some ways the Doctor’s ultimate enemy at this point in the series’ history, survives. The scope of the Daleks’ plan rivals that in ‘The Daleks’ Master Plan’, as they scheme to “spread the Dalek Factor through the entire history of Earth”, and achieve a total victory over humanity. They almost succeed, but in the end and thanks to the Doctor, they instead are defeated by humanity, as massed ranks of Daleks are infected with the Human Factor and civil war breaks out. Despite the unfortunate use of toy Daleks, the surviving special effects footage shows an impressively mounted and explosive climax, which is a fitting end to the last Dalek story of the nineteen-sixties. Finally, the humanized Daleks are a memorable curiosity, the incongruity of a Dalek announcing “He is my friend” and “I will not obey” leaving a lasting impression. It contrasts nicely with the Daleks announcing, “I am your servant” during ‘The Power of the Daleks’, because whereas that was said in the normal Dalek monotone, the humanized Daleks sound different due to greater vocal inflection introduced by the voice artistes to great effect. 

Overall then, ‘The Evil of the Daleks’ is deserving of the label “classic” and is a superb end to Season Four. Despite the mixed quality of the season and the poor use of the Ben, Polly and Jamie companion combination, the change in lead actor is achieved effectively, with Troughton quickly making the role his own. With a new status quo established amongst the TARDIS crew, everything is ready for Troughton’s first full season…