'Planet of Fire' is decidedly odd. Writer Peter Grimwade is given numerous ingredients to incorporate into his scripts, and as in 'Mawdryn Undead' he does this rather well; whereas in that story he had to cope with the Brigadier, the Black Guardian and a new companion, here he has to write out Turlough, tie up the dangling plot thread that it Kamelion, introduce new companion Peri, and include the Master. Given these criteria, it is impressive that he manages to create a coherent plot at all; that he manages to give Turlough a decent back story and provide the Master with his best story in some time is a minor miracle. 

Turlough's final story sees his past revealed, as we discover that he is a political prisoner from Trion, exiled to Earth following a civil war. The story serves him well, and Mark Strickson puts in a fine last performance as Turlough comes to terms with his past. Initially, he's shifty and deceitful, as the TARDIS intercepts a signal from a Trion beacon; he sabotages the TARDIS, misleads the Doctor, and is more than willing to "finish" Kamelion to prevent his people from finding him. As the story progresses though, his more heroic side emerges, as he realises that Malkon is his brother and places the safety of the people of Sarn above his own continued freedom. Strickson conveys throughout the fact that Turlough is wrestling with his conscience, and it works very well; his eventually discovery that his exile has been rescinded nicely finishes off his story, as he returns home whilst, as the Doctor puts it, he's a "bit of a hero". And he is indeed, a bit of hero; after the TARDIS arrives on Sarn, he gradually accepts responsibility for the safety of its people, whose fiery planet was tamed by the Trions so that they could use it as a prison colony, and it is Turlough's understanding of the remaining Trion technology that allows him to save Malkon's life, and save the people of the settlement. His final scene, as he parts company with the Doctor, is a great moment; the quiet friendship and mutual respect between them is perfectly summed up by Turlough's reluctance to leave the Doctor, and the Doctor's quiet declaration that he'll miss him. And given that he describes Brendan School as "the worst place in the universe" it's nice to see him finally change out of that bloody uniform!

The other departing TARDIS crewmember is of course Kamelion. Having been introduced as plot contrivance in 'The King's Demons', behind the scenes difficulties with the prop meant that Kamelion did nothing except lurk unseen in the TARDIS until 'Planet of Fire'. Craig Hinton and Christopher Bulis may have made use of him since (in 'The Crystal Bucephalus' and 'Imperial Moon' respectively), but he did nothing whatsoever on screen during that time. Following on from his introduction, Kamelion is once more used as a tool of the Master, who reestablishes contact with his puppet and uses him to lure the TARDIS to Sarn. As such, Kamelion is once more used as little more than an instrument by the Doctor's old enemy, and spends most of the time played by Anthony Ainley or Dallas Adams. Kamelion gets a rough time throughout the story; it was established in 'The King's Demons' that he can't resist the Master, but circumstances on Sarn mean that he doesn't even get sympathy from the Doctor, who refers to him as a puppet and generally belittles him in an attempt to overthrow the Master's control. Eventually, the Doctor is forced to induce the equivalent of a heart attack in Kamelion in order to stop his old enemy. But to his credit, Grimwade does at least give Kamelion some characterisation of his own; the scene in Episode Two in which he desperately shakes off the Master's influence just long enough to allow Peri to escape and try to reach the Doctor shows that he is not a willing servant of the Master. His final scene is also rather tragic, as he pitifully apologizes to the Doctor and begs to be destroyed. 

With Turlough departing and Kamelion destroyed, the Doctor is provided with a new companion in the form of Peri. The lingering shot of Nicola Bryant in a bikini in Episode One leaves little doubt as to what John Nathan-Turner was looking for in the role, obviously hoping to appeal to the heterosexual male audience, but fortunately the character comes across as more than just a pair of assets. Her decision to swim ashore when her stepfather Howard leaves her trapped on the boat in Episode One is foolhardy but brave, but where she really shines is in her scenes with the Master (or rather, Kamelion as the Master), to whom she causes considerable inconvenience. Her response to the Master's "I am the Master!" is, rather amusingly, "So what? I'm Perpugilliam Brown and I can shot just as loud as you can!" and later on she interferes with his attempts to harness the numismaton gas of Sarn both by interfering with his control of Kamelion and by attempting to swat him with her shoe. The character also works well with Peter Davison's Doctor, and her decision to travel voluntarily with him at the end promises a keen and enthusiastic traveler on board the TARDIS. Which doesn't last of course, but that's another story… And Bryant's accent, famously convincing enough to fool John Nathan-Turner, is pretty good. 

The other recurring character who plays a role in 'Planet of Fire' is of course the Master. His reduced circumstances mean that here is motivation is once more survival rather than a sudden desire to tinker with the boring bits of Earth history, and it is very welcome. Without the need for ludicrous survival, his appearance (via Kamelion) at the end of Episode One, is for once very effective, since he isn't revealed to have been posing as somebody else for no apparent reason. I addition, Anthony Ainley reigns in his performance to considerable effect; bereft of constant gloating and chuckling, he's far more sinister and intimidating than he is in his usual pantomime mode. He looks utterly mad when he says to Peri "allow me to introduce the tissue compression eliminator", for once seeming like a real lunatic rather than some moustache twirling stereotype. Best of all, the relationship between the Doctor and the Master here is handled far better than usual; the Doctor's tolerance for the Master is at an all time low, as demonstrated when he tells Turlough that if he is withholding anything that will aid the Master then their friendship is at an end. Davison's performance reflects this, as he puts in a far more testy performance than usual once he discovers the Master's involvement, and as noted he takes out his dislike for the Master on poor old Kamelion. Grimwade deserves a medal for the final confrontation between the two Time Lords, as the Doctor stands and watches his old enemy seemingly burnt to a crisp without lifting a finger to help him even when he starts begging. It is exactly how the Doctor should react after the carnage unleashed during 'Logopolis' and works far better than his concern for his enemy in 'The King's Demons'. 

As for the rest of the story and characters, they are all window dressing. The background to the settlement on Sarn is adequate, if vaguely reminiscent of 'The Face of Evil', but the actual characters are largely forgettable. Malkon is only worthy of note because he's Turlough's brother. Timanov is an utter clichй, a stock religious fundamentalist who is more than happy to burn heretics; however, near-legendary Peter Wyngarde brings a certain dignity to the role, and Timanov's decision to die with his settlement seems strangely noble rather than futile. Dallas Adams switches from jovial but parental America scientist Professor Howard Foster to slightly creepy silver skinned android quite well and it's so unusually to see an actual American inDoctor Who that it deserves mentioning. 

The production is competent, if unmemorable. The Lanzarote location work looks nice, although it only really benefits episode one; Sarn quite frankly could have been filmed in a gravel pit in Surrey. There are some good sets, especially the control room in the volcano, although the Great Hall of Fire and secondary control centre for the cave look very artificial. Mind you, director Fiona Cumming performs minor wonders; a miniature Master is a potential recipe for CSO flavoured disaster, but she makes it work very well in Episode Four. And as usual, Peter Howell provides a very good incidental score. Overall, the unusual nature of 'Planet of Fire' means that it could never be a classic, but is a reasonably successful story, albeit one that feels more like an attempt by the production team to tidy up the series before Peter Davison's impending departure than a story in its own right.

After the multi-layered and rewarding 'Kinda', 'The Visitation' is a far more straightforward Doctor Who story and by comparison with its predecessor seems almost shallow. Nevertheless, it contains much to enjoy. 

The plot of 'The Visitation' is very simple; an alien spacecraft lands in an historical period of Earth, and its small number of occupants decides to exterminate the population so that they can have the planet for themselves. Rather like a cross between 'The Time Warrior' and 'Terror of the Zygons' in fact. Add to this one android, only a single supporting character of any real note, and some mind-controlled locals, and it all adds up to pretty standard fair. Nevertheless, this standard fair immediately evokes a feeling of traditional Doctor Who, and setting any kind of story produced by the BBC in a period setting virtually guarantees decent sets and costumes. 'The Visitation' is no exception, and whilst it lacks the depth of 'Kinda', it benefits from looking far more impressive, with an authentic looking mansion house, convincingly scruffy peasants, and some fine location filming. 

With very little characterisation of the various villages on display, the only real character of note aside from the principle villain is Richard Mace, a thespian come highwayman who almost steals the show. If I was feeling uncharitable, I might suggest that writer and new script-editor Eric Saward should have found the character easy enough to write for, as he apparently appeared in three BBC Radio 4 plays also penned by Saward, but the fact remains that he is a hugely entertaining character. Michael Robbins plays Mace with aplomb, bringing out the characters various characteristics (an amusing combination of alternating cowardice and courage, wit and bemusement) to great effect. In particular, Mace almost forms a double act with the Doctor which is great fun to watch, the former a man out of his depth and struggling to cope, the latter increasingly impatient with his new friend's struggle to grasp concepts new to him, including aliens, androids, and spaceships. The problem with Mace however, is that Saward seems so interested in writing for him that this has obvious repercussions for three of the regulars…

'The Visitation' is the first Davison story in which, for me, the excess of companions is painfully obvious. In 'Castrovalva', Adric's abduction by the Master sidelined him and allowed the story to focus more on Tegan and Nyssa, whereas in 'Four to Doomsday' and especially 'Kinda' Nyssa was to a greater or lesser extent kept in the background to allow the story focus on Adric and Tegan. Here, with Mace effectively acting as an additional companion and stealing some of the limelight, Saward juggles Tegan, Nyssa and Adric more or less equally, which actually makes it more obvious that he doesn't really know what to do with them than actually having one of them sleeping in the TARDIS for the duration of the story would. Nyssa admittedly gets to show off her scientific background by assembling the TARDIS' sonic booster and destroying the android, but for the most part the three of them take it in turns to either run around in search of each other and the Doctor, get captured, or follow the Doctor around so that he can explain the plot. On the other hand, whilst none of them get the chance to shine, none of them especially annoy; Adric inevitably comes close, but it goes without saying by this point that his character is childish, petulant, and obnoxious. Waterhouse is at least better here than in 'Kinda', although points are deducted for his unconvincing stumble when Adric sprains his ankle. In addition to all of this, the more irritating aspects of Saward's writing are on display here, although perhaps because Anthony Root is script-editor on this story, they are kept to a minimum; nevertheless, the early scenes in the TARDIS in which the Doctor and his companions recap plot elements from 'Kinda' for no good reason create a horrible soap-opera feel that will become increasingly evident during Saward's tenure as script editor. 

The main villain of 'The Visitation' is the Terileptil leader who is reasonably well scripted and who is convincingly acted by Michael Melia. The Terileptil leader is pretty aggressive, bad tempered character, and Melia conveys his short temper very effectively. Unfortunately, he's also a bit one-dimensional; Saward attempts to flesh out Terileptil culture by scripting lines about their dual obsession with art and war (the Terileptil leader objects to the idea of a life without grace and beauty) and he also makes it clear that the leader is an escaped convict who probably doesn't fairly represent all Terileptils, but it all feels like a bit of a token gesture. Having said that, the Terileptils' appreciation for art is reflected in the design of the android, which makes for a nice touch. It probably doesn't help that nowadays any alien race that it is ruthless but obsessed with honour automatically reminds me of a certain race from a popular American science fiction franchise that I'm none too fond of, but that is hardly Saward's fault… Despite all of this however, the Terileptil leader makes for a suitably nasty and ruthless villain, and he also benefits from a great costume, which makes early and effective use of animatronics in the series. Since I've mentioned the android, it also works well as a silent and impassive enforcer and its costume is impressive, save for the cricket gloves, which always look like exactly what they are. 

Finally, I should mention Peter Davison, whose performance here is one of my favourites in the role. He is increasingly frustrated and irascible throughout, which really gives the impression that all of the authority of most of his previous incarnations, plus a great deal of knowledge and experience, is trapped in too young a body. Unlike the Fourth Doctor, the Fifth seems to find it more difficult to inspire trust in his companions, possibly because he appears to be not that much older than they are. This is especially true in Episode Four, when he obviously grows tired of being constantly questioned by Adric and Tegan and frequently snaps. It is an interesting interpretation, and one that will remain in evidence throughout much of Davison's tenure in the role. Moreover, it is another reason why 'The Visitation', for all that it feels largely inconsequential, remains thoroughly pleasant to watch. And if none of that convinces you, it's worth watching for two other things: the Doctor starting the Great Fire of London, and the destruction of the sonic screwdriver!

It is perhaps ironic that having mildly criticized 'The Visitation' for being straightforward and almost inconsequential, I am about to praise 'Black Orchid' for the same reasons. It is one of the finest examples of a the two part format, a charming period tale with just enough of a plot to justify itself but far more to offer besides.

The plot of 'Black Orchid' essential concerns the horribly disfigured, mentally ill and love sick George Cranleigh, discoverer of the eponymous Black Orchid who has been kept secret and safe by his mother in the grandiose Cranleigh residence. He commits several murders, mistakes Nyssa for his lost love Ann Talbot, and then dies tragically. It is as simple as that, and fits the short length of the story without events seeming rushed. It works as a story because of the characters. It is hard not to feel sympathy with George, and the makeup used on Gareth Milne for the role makes him look both pathetic and horrifying. The decision by Lady Cranleigh and her other son Charles to keep George's ghastly predicament is entirely understandable given even the most basic grasp of what asylums at the time were like, and the fact that Ahmed Khalil's Ditoni refers to him as his friend emphasizes the fact that the Cranleigh's actions are motivated by compassion. 

But 'Black Orchid', whilst ultimately about George Cranleigh, manages to be about much more. For the first and only time, we get to see this TARDIS crew really relaxing. The Doctor gets to play cricket and has just taken a bath when the secret door in his room first sidetracks him. His companions get to dance and enjoy a party, which benefits them enormously; having decided to stay with the TARDIS crew for the moment, Tegan is far less bad tempered here than she can be, and seeing her smile as much as she does here and dance the Charleston with delight demonstrates how likeable she can be under the right circumstances. Even Adric is likeable here; with a need for only a limited emotional range, Matthew Waterhouse is adequate, and seeing the character greedily piling food high on his plate is a daft but welcome character moment that reminds us that he is basically a teenager, without resorting to portraying him as an obstreperous tosser. Nyssa, perhaps surprisingly, again gets little to do here, but Sarah Sutton of course gets the chance to show that she can in fact act, by also portraying Ann Talbot, a far more emotional character than the quiet, reserved Nyssa. The doppelganger storyline is an old and tired clichй, but one which Doctor Who invariably does well, not only here but also in 'The Massace of St. Bartholomew's Eve', 'The Enemy of the World', and 'The Androids of Tara'. It is a trivial aspect of this story; when George abducts Ann at the start of Episode Two, he picks the right girl; the only purpose of the doppelganger subplot in this respect is to drive the dramatic climax. But it also serves to show Nyssa relaxing too, as she is carried along by Ann's playful suggestion that they dress alike, and she obviously enjoys the joke. 

For such a short story, 'Black Orchid' is therefore worthy of considerable praise. It is also worth noting the way in which the Doctor convinces Sir Robert that he is telling the truth about who he is, by the simple expedient of showing him the TARDIS. This is something he would perhaps normally not do, but there is a suggestion of gentlemanliness about Robert that makes it seem like the logical thing for the Doctor to do. 'Black Orchid' is also very well made, benefiting like 'The Visitation' from superb location filming and excellent period sets. The acting too is first rate, especially Barbara Murray as Lady Cranleigh, Moray Watson as Sir Robert, and of course Michael Cochrane, a man who plays English aristocrats without peer, as Charles. 'Black Orchid' is indeed inconsequential, but still remains a charming diversion from the norm for the series. And in the overall context of Season Nineteen it gives us a chance to see this TARDIS crew at its best before it is irrevocably changed…

'Time-Flight' is bloody terrible. 

All right then, I'll elaborate, although it's hard to know where to start. The plot is a mess, the involvement of Concorde seemingly a contrivance to allow the production team to show off the fact that they've, well, got access to Concorde. With this initial plot albatross, which frankly is an absolute gratuity, Peter Grimwade delivers a story that might cause you to believe that he's never seen Doctor Who before. Given that he's actually directed two stories already in Season Nineteen however, it rather raises the question of what the hell he thought he was doing by writing a script that requires not one but two Concordes to crash land on prehistoric Earth. Not judging Doctor Who by its budgetary limitations is one thing, but when a writer who should know better strains the budget past breaking point, the gloves are off. 'Time-Flight' looks and feels cheap and nasty. The location filming around Heathrow airport looks fine, but given how bad the story is it serves only to bring back fond memories of 'The Faceless Ones'. The horrible sets used to depict prehistoric Earth on the other hand are by far the worst of the season, even given how cheap the jungle sets used in 'Kinda' look. Frankly, having accepted the dodgy script, the production team would have been far better off using their location time to film in a quarry… By Episode Four, things get even worse, with crap model work that seemingly includes Corgi models of Concorde. 

The Xeraphin subplot is potentially interesting, but their psychic abilities means that Grimwade resorts to a deluge of tedious technobabble, and makes further demands above and beyond what the production team can achieve. The Plasmatons, aggregations of protoplasm created using the psychokinetic power of the Xeraphin, are alternately realized as giant grey turds or soap bubbles; the cringe worthy appearance of the Xeraphin themselves is even worse, as two men stand in a box dressed in silver body stockings with lumps of polystyrene stuck to their faces. This is almost forgivable, since the simplistic and ultimately facile division of the Xeraphin into Good and Evil, and the painful plot exposition that they spout usually distracts me. Speaking of which, the script is uniformly ghastly, resulting in horribly stilted dialogue throughout; nearly every line is exposition (or to be more precise, laboured pseudo-science), which means that the characterisation is abominable as a result. Especially bad examples include Scobie and Bilton discovering Angela Clifford and another colleague, during which painful dialogue ensues - do any of these characters sound like real people to anybody? 

Speaking of characters, there are only two of any real note aside from the regulars and the Master. Captain Stapley is quite likeable, and Richard Easton makes a real effort with his crap dialogue (the same is actually true of Michael Cashman's Bilton, although he does little except stand around so that Stapley can explain bits of the plot to him). Equally well acted but far less likeable is Nigel Stock's Professor Hayter. Hayter essentially occupies the same role as Tyler way back in 'The Three Doctors', but whilst I've made no secret of the fact that I consider 'The Three Doctors' to be about as entertaining as being diagnosed with syphilis, at least Tyler was done right. Both characters are present to offer skepticism, something that companions tend not to be well suited for after the various extraordinary sights that they've witnessed. Tyler worked well in this regard because he was good natured and likeable; Hayter is merely an arse who spends a great deal of time moaning and wanting to abandon his fellow passengers in order to save his own skin. Frankly, I'd have suggested that if he really wanted to run away, he should bugger off and see how he likes prehistory. Presumably, this unpleasant characterisation is intentional in order to make his sacrifice (and posthumous rescue of the TARDIS) seem more noble, but in a story as turgid as 'Time-Flight', unsympathetic characters merely serve to rub salt into the wound. 

Then there is the Master. Given that his entire scheme revolves around repairing his TARDIS and escaping from prehistoric Earth, the Master's motivation here is fairly sound. What is rather less sound is his reason for dressing up as some kind of unconvincing Arabic zombie, which Grimwade makes no effort to explain whatsoever. Except of course that we know the real reason: it's to provide a cheap surprise at the cliffhanger to Episode Two. It's absolutely ridiculous, especially given that he stays in character as Kalid even when he's alone, drooling and giggling like some kind of imbecile. I suppose it hammers home the point that Master is, to quote The Completely Useless Encyclopaedia, "nuttier than squirrel shit", but frankly, 'Logopolis' already proved that. By Episode Four, the entire story has degenerated into a bog-standard runaround in which the Master and the Doctor annoy one another, whilst the rest of the cast stand around and play with aeroplane parts. In addition to which, the Doctor's eventual defeat of the Master, which strands him on Xeriphas is not only pure technobabble, it isn't even very convincing - his TARDIS can't materialize because the Doctor's is already at its target coordinates. For one thing this contradicts the fairly recent 'Logopolis', and for another, it blatantly does materialize, since it appears hovering nearby. So how the Doctor knocks it back into time and space is anyone's guess, although at least it brings the whole sorry mess to an end. 

As for the regulars, Davison's breathless enthusiasm is the only reason 'Time-Flight' is worth watching at all, as well as his manic optimism in Episode Four as he struggles to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Nyssa gets to demonstrate vague psychic abilities, which were then promptly forgotten until Lance Parkin wrote 'Primeval', which again illustrates that Grimwade shows no fear of plot contrivances. Tegan gets very little to do, except recite air stewardess spiel for no good reason when the passengers board Concorde towards the end. One of the many, many problems with 'Time-Flight' is that, rather than capitalizing on the loss of Adric to give more time to Nyssa and Tegan, it brings in Stapley and his crew to act as surrogate companions, meaning that the pair instead spend a great deal of time standing around waiting for a plot development. Speaking of Adric, his death is briefly glossed over near the start in a horribly shallow way before everyone decides to stop grieving and try and have some fun. Clearly they miss him as much as I do then…

To summarize all of that, in case I wasn't clear enough, 'Time-Flight' is pants. After a generally very strong debut season for Davison it's terribly disappointing, and to add insult to injury it has a very half-arsed ending in which the Doctor and Nyssa abandon Tegan seemingly by accident. Apparently this was intended to provide a cliffhanger ending to the season before she returns in 'Arc of Infinity', but instead it just makes it looks as though the Doctor is grabbing the opportunity to be rid of her. Nevertheless, she does return, and as a result the potential of the Doctor and Nyssa travelling together without other companions remained untapped. Until nearly twenty years later that is, when Big Finish entered the picture…

'Snakedance' is in many ways highly similar to 'Kinda'. For one thing, it is a sequel to that story, also written by 'Kinda' scribe Christopher Bailey, and featuring the return of the Mara. Like 'Kinda', it suffers from cheap and stagy looking sets and horrible costumes, but is also well directed. And like 'Kinda', it has a superb script, great characterisation, and a superb acting. 

To address those minor negative quibbles first and get them out of the way, I actually much prefer the sets here to those in 'Kinda', with only the rocky exteriors and the cave bothering me. The rocky exteriors look better than they might have done due to the fact that they are recorded on film, but they are still obviously fake sets with a painted backdrop and some sand scattered about; in short, they always look as though they are indoors. The cave looks OK, but suffers from the same problem as those in 'Earthshock', in that it looks very little like a real cave at all. On the other hand, it has been sculpted in the past, so I suppose its shiny walls and unnatural rock shapes could be explained thus. But it still looks a bit silly when the veins in walls light up at the end. Ken Trew's costumes represent my only other criticism of 'Snakedance'; most of them look a bit silly, but are passable, for example those worn by Dugdale and Chela, but Ambril's pink and black costume is hideous and the ludicrous costume that Lon dons in Episode Four has to be seen to be believed. I should perhaps also point out that the curse of the Mara once more means the curse of the rubber snake, whether it be the one wrapped around Tegan's arm, the one that bites Dojjen and the Doctor during the snakedance, or the big Mara prop at the end. However, the snake effects used here have moved up a step since 'Kinda' and bonus points are awarded for the use of real snakes. 

So having got my rather shallow criticisms of 'Snakedance' out of the way, I'll start by praising the regulars. Janet Fielding again proves she can act, as the Mara once more possesses Tegan. She proves especially good when Tegan wakes up terrified from a nightmare, or wanders around in fearful confusion under the influence of the Doctor's dream inhibiting device. She's even better however when Tegan is fully under the Mara's control and she gets to play the villain; her tormenting of the fortuneteller at the end of Episode One, her callous treatment of Dugdale, even her power crazed ranting, all of these aspects are portrayed very well, and this is emphasized by the first two cliffhangers, superbly directed by Fiona Cumming. The real test of Fielding's acting skills is that she manages to seem menacing even with a rubber snake coiled around her arm, which is pretty impressive when all said and done. Actually, the Mara is realized very well throughout 'Snakedance' and is more prominent from the start than it was in 'Kinda', since the Doctor realises what his enemy is very early on. Cumming's use of snake skulls and distorting mirrors are both examples of how she achieves surrealism on a limited budget and shows Tegan alternately fighting or giving in to the Mara in her mind. Cumming's direction is impressive here, but Fielding is crucial to the success of these scenes. 

Sarah Sutton's Nyssa gets very little to do here, basically following the Doctor or Tegan around to allow plot exposition, but Davison is very well used as the Doctor. His frantic rushing around in an attempt to stop the Mara's rebirth is well ahdnled, and it's interesting to see how he looks to the supporting characters, with everyone except Chela assuming that he is a harmless crank. Ambril's reaction to him is very realistic, as he tries to convince everyone that on this occasion a celebration that has been performed once a decade for five centuries will on this occasion have dire consequences. His scenes with Dojjen in Episode Four are particularly good as the Doctor exhibits first fear and then finally understanding as Dojjen teaches him how to defeat the Mara. 

The supporting cast is excellent. Over the past ten years I've often seen clips from 'Snakedance' being used to embarrass both Martin Clunes and Jonathon Morris, but neither have cause for embarrassment (except perhaps for Clunes' costumes). Clunes is superb as the arrogant and bored Lon, whose transformation from obnoxious to manipulative and ruthless demonstrates that Lon is not a particularly nice person to begin with but is far worse under the Mara's control. Incredible, the famously big-eared Clunes, a man famous for portraying loutish behaviour in Men Behaving Badly, manages to appear both imperious and even dashing at times. Morris is also great as the erstwhile Chela, the one person other than Dojjen prepared to listen to the Doctor's warnings about the Mara, and his character is very likeable. Every character is well written, including Lon's snooty but well-meaning mother Tanha (Colette O'Neill), and the money grubbing but also likeable Dugdale (Brian Miller, husband of Elizabeth Sladen) whose fascination with what he thinks of as Tegan's skills at ventriloquism and the financial benefits this might bring him leads him into terror and slavery. Preston Lockwood's Dojjen is played with quiet dignity and although he barely speaks he brings a tremendous air of wisdom to the role. Perhaps most notable is John Carson's Ambril, a great character whose obsession with his work causes him to betray his sacred trust and hand over the great crystal to Lon. Ambril's motivation is always understandable, his greed for knowledge and artifacts nicely contrasting with Dugdale's greed for money and equally demonstrating how the Mara is capable of praying on people's weaknesses. Carson superbly portrays Ambril's barely suppressed excitement at the artifacts Lon shows him, as he handles them with trembling hands, and his defeated submission to the Mara's will as Lon smashes them is very well acted. In addition, Ambril's enraged reaction to the Doctor's solving of the riddle of the Six Faces of Delusion is almost worth watching the story for by itself. 

Bailey's plot is deceptively simple, carried along by the characterisation and more subtext picked up on from 'Kinda'. Buddhism apparently plays its part once more, in the origins of the Mara and the means by which the Doctor defeats it. Also as in 'Kinda' there are subtle criticisms of colonialism (or rather imperialism) as Tanha patronizes the natives and laughs at their quaint customs, whilst nevertheless fascinated by them. 'Snakedance' is perhaps less memorable than 'Kinda', affected to an extent by the law of diminishing returns, but it is a worthy sequel and after the disappointing 'Arc of Infinity' it bodes well for the remainder of Season Twenty.

So, 'The Five Doctors' is simple, slightly flawed Sunday evening fun. This would be the problem some people have the tendency to make it out to be if simple, slightly flawed sunday evening fun Dr. Who stories weren't in the majority throughout its long run.

I admit, I was a quite the young whippersnapper when I first saw 'The Five Doctors' and when I saw it again, years later, it didn't hold up to my memories. However, it still holds up well, with the story and links all holding together despite all the different threads, due to so many characters, that are flapping foot loose and fancy free in the wind. 

All involved give good performances, particularly Jon Pertwee, who slips back into his role with complete ease. As ever, I enjoyed Anthony Ainley as the Master, me being one who has never understood criticism of him or the Master character.

Richard Hurdnall never fails to amaze me with his performance as the First Doctor. OK, so he's missing a few of the characteristics William Hartnell brought to the role, but trying to act the same character in the same way another actor did is difficult at the best of times, let alone such a known role that Hartnell had made very much his own.

It's my opinion that if you like Who in general, you'll like this. Perhaps more could have been done with the premise, but they did only have 90 minutes rather than several episodes. I think it's a very high-ranking piece of Who glory.