As yet unreleased on video or DVD and notorious for its poor dinosaur effect, 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' is largely overlooked. Frankly it doesn't deserve to be; dinosaurs aside, it is rather good, boasting an interesting plot, good characterisation, and, most incredibly of all, a decent performance from Richard Franklin as Mike Yates. 

First of all however, let's get the Dinosaurs out of the way. I've said many times that I don't judge Doctor Who on its effects, and this story is no exception, but due the infamy of the Dinosaur effects used here I should at least mention them. In fact they aren't all equally bad; the pterodactyl is quite effective, simply because it is a full-sized mechanical prop rather than a small rubber toy. Of the actual models, the brontosaurus and the stegosaurus aren't too bad, although they are a bit static. Nevertheless, their proportions look about right and careful direction manages to make the best out of them. I wouldn't say they look any worse that the Dinosaur in 'Doctor Who and the Silurians'. The triceratops is rather ropier, but again, Paddy Russell manages to make the best of it by keeping it in shadow and behind a pile of rubble, thus disguising the poor quality of the prop. However, even the most careful direction can't disguise the fact that the tyrannosaurus is absolutely crap. It is the classic rubber dinosaur, slightly disproportioned, with a duck-billed mouth, and listing constantly to one side. If this was Monty Python, the cliff-hanger to Episode One would not be the rubber Tyrannosaurus appearing in front of the Doctor and Sarah, it would be the arrival of the giant toddler whop owns it… It really is a cheap and nasty prop, and looks bad every time it appears. To add insult to injury, at the start of Episode Three, as Mike fires his revolver at it, Richard Franklin is stood next to a completely immobile and equally unconvincing giant plastic tyrannosaurus leg in a feeble attempt to show that he's stood underneath the monster. They really shouldn't have bothered. 

Fortunately, although the Dinosaurs are mentioned in the story title, they are peripheral to the main plot and Malcolm Hulke wisely keeps their involvement to a minimum, and in most other aspects, 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' succeeds admirably. For starters, Episode One (titled simply 'Invasion') is startlingly effective, reminding me just how weird a deserted city, especially one like London, seems. It's highly effective and very intriguing, as the Doctor and Sarah wander the streets of London searching for anyone to tell them what is happening, encountering looters, a temporally displaced and utterly terrified peasant, and a screeching pterodactyl, before being arrested by the army. The army's refusal to believe that the Doctor is UNIT's scientific advisor is a sneaky but effective use of padding, something which Hulke is very good at; the Doctor's problems with the army last until half-way through Episode Two, before the Brigadier turns up to vouch for him. As with 'The Sea Devils' and 'Frontier in Space', Hulke's last two stories, there are examples of this sort of padding throughout the story, and as in those two stories, Hulke's knack for characterisation and dialogue manages to make this padding interesting. However, the real masterstroke of 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' comes at the end of Episode Three; just as the novelty of the Dinosaurs is wearing off, the viewer gets the first glimpse of just what is really going on, with a suitably bizarre twist. 

The villains of 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' contribute significantly to the story's success. The plot attempts to make them seem sympathetic; Grover genuinely wants Sarah to understand why he is trying to return Earth to its "Golden Age", for example, and Grover, Finch, and Butler are motivated by a real sense that what they are doing is for the best. Noel Johnson is excels at conveying this, seemingly disturbed by the measures he feels he is constantly forced to take, but taking them anyway; in Episodes Five and Six, when he pleads with the People, he does almost seem to be agonized by the situation. Finch and Butler get less opportunity to demonstrate any such motivation, but John Bennett and Martin Jarvis nevertheless make the most of their roles, and despite his apparent intention to shoot the Doctor, Finch is given a certain air of nobility by Bennett's performance. Despite their belief that what they are doing is right however, Grover and his associates are of course characterised by a ruthless intent, which is to effectively wipe out millions of people. They are almost a cult, dedicated to some nebulous cause and willing to go to any ends to achieve it; the script successfully highlights the hypocrisy inherent in their intentions; Sarah argues with Grover that he is about to commit mass-murder, and that his so-called "Golden Age" would thus be based on a foundation of genocide. The uncomfortable Grover firmly states that it isn't murder, as these people simply will never have existed; clearly this is intended to convince him rather than Sarah. A more disturbing example of the hypocrisy inherent in these people is actually seen in the "ship"; the People are unaware of Grover's true intentions and believe that they are leaving the filth and social degradation of Earth behind them to instead find a new home. Consequently, they are not knowingly participating in the mass-murder of Earth's population, which makes Ruth's intention to "destroy" Sarah rather chilling. Ruth's brave new world is threatened by Sarah's dissent, so her solution is murder. The inherent issue of course, being what sort of "Golden Age" could possibly be built on the summary execution of people who don't agree with the majority opinion. In addition to this, even her less terminal solution to the Sarah problem is disturbing, amounting as it does to brainwashing. Interestingly, there is one key villain who does not fit this pattern: Professor Whitaker. Whitaker is not remotely sympathetic and shows absolutely no interest in Grover's cause. Instead Peter Miles' icy performance suggests a man whose sole motivation is personal achievement; having been dismissed by his peers for his theories on time travel, he is concerned only with proving his abilities. A clue to this, which also demonstrates his arrogance, comes during Episode Two, when Mike describes the Doctor as the most brilliant scientist on Earth; Whitaker's response suggests just who he thinks is the world's greatest scientist. 

And then there's Mike. I've made no secret of the fact that I can't stand either the character of Mike Yates, or Richard Franklin's performance. Here however, he almost redeems his past appearance, as Yates is revealed as the traitor inside UNIT. Given this unusual and unexpected character development, Franklin puts in a restrained, troubled performance as Yates struggles with his conscience, torn between the lure of Operation Golden Age and his guilt at betraying his friends, especially the Doctor, who he clearly respects enormously. Unlike the other conspirators, Yates seems confused, a victim of Grover's propaganda, but convinced by it nonetheless to the extent that he is willing to be party to the eradication of the vast majority of mankind, even showing willingness to sacrifice himself for the cause if necessary. Equally guilty of the crime of being party to near-genocide, Yates is obviously more tortured by his conscience than Grover, Finch or Butler, and is painfully aware of the hypocrisy of the operation, even going so far as to tell Butler and Whitaker that he won't allow the Doctor to be harmed because if they resort to such levels, they are no better than the society that they intend to replace. Ultimately, Yates' participation in Operation Golden Age is unforgivable, but his past involvement with the Doctor and UNIT gives him the chance to redeem himself, as he is given extended sick leave rather than facing a court-martial like Finch does. 

The other two regular members of UNIT shine here, the Brigadier once more on form in particular. His defiance of General Finch even before he knows that the General is a traitor, is motivated largely by his faith in the Doctor. Even though the Doctor is unsure of the Brigadier's reliability briefly in Episode Five (after the Doctor is arrested when Whitaker frames him), the viewer is not; his carefully measured response makes it clear that he is highly suspicious of the circumstances. Benton too does very well out of the script, his faith in the Doctor even more obvious especially when he allows the Doctor to overpower him and escape; clearly, he never once doubts the Time Lord.

The Doctor is well written here, immediately posing a threat to the success of Operation Golden Age from the moment he meets up with Lethbridge-Stewart, whereas prior to this the conspirators have been successfully keeping UNIT distracted. His rapid conclusion that the dinosaurs are merely a means to clear central London prompts the conspirators to take steps, Yates being ordered to sabotage the Doctor's stun gun. This tips the balance of events, causing them to reveal their hand, take the first steps towards blowing Mike's cover and ultimately be defeated. Sarah too plays a key role and gets to show off her investigative skills, discovering Whitaker's involvement, locating Grover's hidden base, and revealing the truth to the People. In summary, 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs' is a well-crafted, interesting story, which is thoroughly underrated and worthy or reappraisal.

All things considered, I am not a fan of Terrance Dicks. Before the advent of video, when my only knowledge of old Doctor Who stories came from Target novelisations, I always preferred those written by Malcolm Hulke or (especially) Ian Marter, finding Dicks' to be overly simplistic and lacking in depth. His television stories are variable, the better ones being those on which he collaborated with another writer ('The War Games') or was heavily script edited ('The Brain of Morbius'). 'Robot' in some ways demonstrates his shortcomings as a writer, but on the other hand it succeeds rather well in introducing both a new Doctor and a new companion. 

Conceptually, 'Robot' makes a great deal of sense, in that it introduces the new Doctor by surrounding him with the trappings of the old; UNIT plays a significant role in 'Robot' and this highlights the differences between the performances of Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker. There is a tendency amongst Doctor Who fans to favour the Doctor they grew up with, which in my case is Peter Davison, but from the moment I started buying Doctor Who videos Tom Baker became, and remains, my favourite. He makes an immediate impression. Although I dislike things about the Pertwee era, Jon Pertwee's performance isn't one of them; after his dignified, almost establishment figure, Baker needed to establish himself as a distinct character, and he does so magnificently; he's incredibly eccentric from the start, with his brick-chopping, running on the spot, and ludicrous costumes, but he's also commanding and fiercely intelligent. Recovering from his regeneration far more quickly than his predecessor he is able to establish his character by the end of Episode One and the scene in which he examines the pulverized dandelion showcases his intellectual prowess. He deduces far more quickly than anybody else the nature of the threat facing them from only a handful of clues (the Brigadier suspects foreign powers or alien invaders) and is quick to realize Kettlewell's involvement. His clowning, rather like Troughton's, hides a lightening fast mind, but unlike Troughton he is possessed by a manic energy, as demonstrated by his entry into the Scientific Reform Society meeting (he creates the impression that he is a buffoon, only to quickly overcome the off-guard, erm, guard) and his brief clowning on stage during the meeting even wins over members of the audience despite the fact that he threatens their plans. His line "There's no point in being grown-up if you can't be childish sometimes?" perhaps best sums up this new Doctor, and of course his offering of a jelly baby to the distraught Sarah. 

The other new regular is Harry Sullivan, also making an immediate impression. Initially, he demonstrates his usefulness as a comic foil to Baker's Doctor, most notably during the scene in which the Doctor presses Harry's stethoscope to his chest and he hears two heartbeats; the expression on his face speaks volumes. Despite his initial buffoonery however, he also proves to be more than just an imbecile; he quickly accepts that the Doctor's eccentricity is going to leave him baffled, as he wry smile as he later presses the stethoscope to both sides of his own chest indicates. By the end of the story, he gets a great moment as he and the Doctor drive towards the robot in Bessie, and they joke about the fact that their problem seems to have grown. It suggests an easy friendship and establishes Harry and the Doctor almost as a double act. In general, Harry is hugely likeable; he's old fashioned almost to the point of chauvinism, but big-hearted and well meaning with it, and Ian Marter plays the part to perfection. He also gets to play James Bond, which he clearly relishes, even if he does get caught. 

The other regular also gets plenty to do in a story, which exploits her investigative skills very well. She infiltrates Think Tank and quickly deduces the significance of the patch of oil on the floor, and she stands up bravely to the icy Hilda Winters when Winters nastily offers a further demonstration of K1; Sarah is clearly terrified by the idea but accepts the invitation nonetheless. Most significantly of course, Sarah's compassion brings the robot to trust her, which allows her to save the Doctor's life at the start of Episode Three. Sladen quickly establishes a rapport with both Baker and Marter, establishing the dynamic of the new team. 

UNIT, returning for one of its final appearances, also does rather well out of the story. Although not back to the heights he reached during Season Seven, the Brigadier is nevertheless back on form to a degree, regaining some of the authority of his early appearances. As in his later appearances with Pertwee, the script makes him look slightly dim in order to allow the Doctor to explain the plot, but he's impressively commanding when in action in Episodes Three and Four, especially when dealing with Miss Winters; Courtney seems genuinely horrified by the situation in Episode Four as he pulls a gun on Winters whilst the countdown to nuclear war ticks away. And the newly promoted Mr. Benton also gets some great moments, most notably when he gives the Doctor the idea to use Kettlewell's metal virus and thus finally destroy the robot. 

Then we have the robot itself. The actual costume is very effective, ingeniously designed so that it manages to avoid looking like a man in a costume. The actual characterisation of the robot also works, largely due to its interaction with Sarah and its tortured persona. Artificial intelligences have become rather clichйd, and in Doctor Who we have already had a least two, in the megalomaniac forms of WOTAN and BOSS, but the emphasis here is rather different. Unfortunately, it is also here that the story starts to fall down; firstly after Kettlewell's death, the robot becomes just another ranting madman, albeit a rather novel one, and the final episode degenerates into a typical runaround after Hilda Winters is arrested by UNIT. Secondly, and most annoyingly, it astonishes that Terrance Dicks, a man who was part of the Doctor Who for the previous several years, would be so stupid as to incorporate into his script the Attack of the Fifty-Foot Robot, an idea that could only realistically be achieved by the dreaded CSO. This immediately results in an effects nightmare, as first parts of the CSO robot vanish as it grows larger, and then we are presented with a rag-doll Sarah. The toy tank at the end of Episode Three is bad enough, but the toy companion is unforgivable. I don't usually judge Doctor Who by its special effects, but the whole concept is unnecessary here, adding little to the plot since the robot is already virtually indestructible. Since Christopher Barry's direction elsewhere in the story is rather good (especially the scene in Episode One as the camera moves through the security system as the Brigadier describes it in voice-over), this hamstringing of the production is especially disappointing. 

The villains are rather mixed. Patricia Maynard's icy Miss Winters is very good, but her assistant Jellicoe is utterly forgettable. Moreover, the motives of the Scientific Reform Society are rather dubious; given that they want to make a better world, their obvious willingness to plunge it into nuclear holocaust beggars belief. In addition, that food store in the bunker must be well stocked; a global nuclear catastrophe would render the planet largely uninhabitable for decades at least. Kettlewell's motivation is even more ill conceived; leaving aside Edward Burnham's performance of a ludicrously stereotypical mad Professor, his attitude to the robot doesn't make much sense. Even when he is alone with the robot, he frets over the treatment inflicted by Winters and seems genuinely horrified by it, despite having provided the necessary technical know-how required to reprogram it and being party to his allies' actions. His eventually revelation as a villain seems to have crow-barred into the story simply to provide a plot twist, and most unbelievably of all, despite his apparently long association with Hilda Winters and his full knowledge of their intentions, he seems not to have considered the potential consequences of helping her to obtain the nuclear launch codes. The plot also falls down in regards to the disintegrator gun; as The Discontinuity Guide points out, the Scientific Reform Society goes to great lengths to obtain the gun, just to use it to open a safe. Whilst the script tries to compensate for this with the unlikely revelation that the safe is otherwise indestructible, the plot would have been better served had they simply had the robot force it open. 

Despite these drawbacks, 'Robot' succeeds as a introduction for Tom Baker and at four action-packed episodes is rather refreshing after Pertwee's last two bloated stories. More to the point, 'Robot' establishes the new TARDIS team and paves the way for arguable Season Twelve's finest story, as Doctor Who's greatest script-writer makes a welcome return…

'Planet of the Daleks' is bad: really, really bad. The fact that it is so bad is triply disappointing given that it (a) features the Daleks, and (b) follows on from the rather splendid 'Frontier in Space'. In its favour, the Daleks look and sound better than they did in 'Day of the Daleks', but the Dalek Supreme undermines even that slight bonus. The whole thing is just rubbish

Things get off to a bad start in Episode One, with the revelation that the Doctor has decided to clutter the TARDIS console room with cheap and nasty self-assembly furniture. This is followed by the even more unlikely development that the TARDIS, like some kind of time travelling submarine, needs to replenish its oxygen supply on landing, a hitherto unmentioned drawback that makes the long-term viewer realize how lucky the TARDIS crew were not to unexpectedly suffocate during 'Inside the Spaceship' or 'The Mind Robber'. Even if we accept that the TARDIS is reliant on an external air-supply, it is a remarkable stroke of misfortune (or to be more accurate, a sign of very bad writing) that the first time we ever learn of this problem is when the TARDIS happens to be covered with fungus such that the Doctor cannot open the door. In addition, we are also presented with the TARDIS log, again hitherto unmentioned, which luckily for us allows Jo to indulge in some clumsy plot exposition. 

The episode continues in a similar vein. It is implied that Jo didn't realize that the Doctor had asked the Time Lords to send the TARDIS after the Daleks, even though at the end of the previous story Jo and the Doctor found out about the Daleks and then the Doctor sent a message to the Time Lords; I know that Jo's intelligence depends on who the scriptwriter is each episode, but even so, this isn't rocket science. However, if Jo had put two and two together she would never have ventured out of the TARDIS in search of help for the Doctor, and Nation would have to think up a more intelligent way to separate the pair of them. Mind you, Jo not realizing that there are Daleks around pales into insignificance next to the Doctor's seeming lapse of memory, which lasts precisely until the resolution of the Episode One cliffhanger, when he suddenly remembers that he specifically set out to find the Daleks. If I was feeling kind, I might suggest that his shocked exclamation of "Daleks!" at the end of Episode One refers specifically to the fact that he is surprised to find an invisible one, but Pertwee's performance fails to convey this, so I won't.

Episode One out of the way, the story launches into its sparse and economical plot. I use the word economical because it is largely recycled. The plot is this; there is a frozen Dalek army on the planet, and the Daleks that aren't frozen are experimenting with invisibility. The Thals want to stop them. That's it. What then follows is one-and-a-half episodes of the Thals and the Doctor separately entering the Dalek city, and then spending another one-and-a-half episodes trying to get out, before meeting up again on the surface for a bit. Then, the Doctor and the Thals spend one-and-a-half episodes getting back into the city, they blow everything up and go home. Along the way, we get a kind of sampling of Nation's greatest hits. I can excuse the Daleks bombarding Spiridon from space with bacteria ('The Dalek Invasion of Earth'), because it makes sense for them to reuse a successful technique, but everything else is just taking the piss. We have a hostile jungle planet with deadly plant life ('Mission to the Unknown', 'The Chase') inhabited by invisible creatures ('The Daleks' Master Plan'), and somebody hiding inside a Dalek casing so that they can sneak around the Dalek city ('The Mutants'). The resolution (Thals successfully sneak into the Dalek city and manage to immobilize the Daleks) is lifted directly from 'The Mutants'. The horrendously contrived romance sub-plot between Jo and Latep is a pale imitation of the sexual tension between Barbara and Ganatus from the same story; there, Nation carefully hinted at their attraction over a period of time, whereas here he forces it kicking and screaming into the final episode, with Latep suddenly spouting cheesy chat-up lines to Jo. If he was obviously just trying to get his end away, I could understand it, but this obviously wouldn't have been acceptable viewing for Saturday teatime, so instead we get some ludicrous implication that they have deep feelings for each other. Jo's brief moping in the TARDIS at the end is unbelievable; she's just been propositioned by someone she hardly knows and has only just met, but for a moment or two she acts as though she's just had her heartbroken. It's tacky, sloppy and unconvincing. Typical of 'Planet of the Daleks' in fact. Finally, whilst on the subject of recycled plot threads, we even get a rehash of a brief scene from 'The Daleks' Master Plan', when the convicts on Desperus hear a Screamer overhead; on this occasion the Thals hear some winged beast flying overhead, but the scenes are almost identical. 

The return of the Thals does not improve matters. In 'The Mutants', Nation used the Thals to address issues of pacifism and the need to fight for what you believe in. In doing so he presented the Thals as naпve but noble, and made them work through skilful characterisation. Here, they are utterly pathetic, badly-scripted clichйs spouting cringe worthy lines about space medicine and doing absolutely nothing useful except providing the Doctor with rope and bombs. Bernard Horsfall is incapable of bad acting, and Prentis Hancock can play short-tempered unstable characters in his sleep, but the other Thals are unmemorable at best. Codal is the worst offender; Tim Preece makes an effort, but his character exists only so that the Doctor can piously lecture him on the subjects of cowardice and bravery. Although it must be said that the worst example of this is near the end of the story, when in a cringe-worthy monologue the Doctor asks Taron to teach his people the horrors of war. Apart from being nauseating, it's internally inconsistent; if the Thals share Skaro with the Daleks, the horrors of war should not be news to them. 

Production wise, the story looks ghastly. The jungle sets are obviously studio-bound, and contrast painfully with the location footage used in the "ice pools" scene. The plain of stones is even worse, the studio backdrop looming obviously over polystyrene rocks; the 100-watt glowing eyes of the encroaching wildlife are especially woeful. The Dalek city is OK, but even the most ham-fisted set designer should be able to manage blank, featureless corridors. The rock face in the refrigerator cavern looks tackily plastic, although it positively shines compared with the horrendous model shot of the bomb exploding, when jagged broken edges of polystyrene are actually shown. And the Thals spaceship is crap too, suggesting as it does that they shop at the same bargain furniture warehouse as the Doctor. 

There isn't much else that I can say about 'Planet of the Daleks'. Pertwee puts in a surprisingly good performance given his known dislike for Daleks and the quality of the scripts, as does Katy Manning even if her character is reduced to the status of an imbecile here. The Spiridons are pure window-dressing. In summary, 'Planet of the Daleks' is rotten and a massive letdown after 'Frontier in Space.

It has always been suggested that the Doctor’s term with UNIT did not take place during the period it was broadcast, but slightly into the future. This makes sense when one realizes how many of the Third Doctor’s exploits mirror today’s problems. Day of the Daleks confronts the issue of terrorism, while The Curse of Peladon tackles the complexities of international relations. These topics are extremely relevant to the world of 2003 even though they were broadcast in 1973. The Green Death also has much meaning for today’s world. The struggle between corporate greed and the environment is one that is being fought today, with the outcome looking not so good for the earth.

The Green Death is a cautionary tale dealing with the excess of capitalism. When miners begin to die from strange green sores, UNIT is called in to investigate. The sores are linked to waste being dumped by the Global Chemical Corporation. The waste has also caused common maggots to mutate into two-foot long giants. The Doctor discovers that a diabolical machine known as the BOSS is controlling the operation of Global Chemicals. With the help of a young Welsh biologist, UNIT and the Doctor hope to overcome BOSS and the swarm of giant larvae. 

This story boasts a fine script by Robert Sloman and producer Barry Letts. Letts’ desire to make Doctor Who topical is particularly evident here. The direction by Michael Briant is top notch; suspense and atmosphere abound in this story. The sparse design work of John Burrowes creates an industrial surrounding that is reminiscent of previous Third Doctor stories such as Spearhead from Space and Inferno. 

The regulars Jon Pertwee, Nicholas Courtney, and Katy Manning all give wonderful performances. This story marked Manning’s departure from the series. The Doctor’s reaction to Jo’s departure is one of the finest moments from Pertwee’s tenure as the Doctor. It remains one of the most touching moments from the series’ history. The supporting cast also shines. Jerome Willis is quite menacing as Stevens, the brainwashed chief of Global Chemicals. Stewart Bevan is charming and intelligent as Professor Clifford Jones, the bohemian biologist who steals the heart of Jo Grant. The cast and crew of The Green Death are key factors that make this story the classic it is.

The Doctor’s non-human foes are also notable. The giant maggots may seem silly to some, but to this reviewer they are some of Doctor Who’s creepiest creatures. Like the Autons of previous adventures, the maggots’ simplistic design makes them less sloppy looking and therefore more terrifying. They really do look like disgusting, swollen maggots. 

While the Doctor has had his share of mechanical foes, BOSS stands out from the crowd. BOSS is a rare mechanical monster because its menace comes from it being too human-like. The false humanity programmed into BOSS causes the super computer to become even more dangerous. While it makes BOSS hum tunes it also makes the computer greedy and devious. BOSS itself is a parable about the limitations of the computer. 

As holes in the ozone grow and corporate responsibility dwindles, The Green Death has a message more important than ever. The message is so skillfully delivered that it demonstrates that the “silly” children’s television show Doctor Who can be relevant to today. Because of this relevance and the quality of the story itself, The Green Death is one of the Doctor’s greatest adventures.

Allow me to quickly dispel any doubts about the tone of this review: I would sooner eat my own spleen than watch 'Revenge of the Cybermen' again any time soon. After a largely excellent first season (for all its faults, 'Robot' works reasonably well as an introductory vehicle), it is painful to see Baker saddled with such drivel as this, and on top of that I find myself trying hard to forget that my favourite Doctor Who writer had a fairly large hand in scripting it, since Gerry Davis' scripts apparently needed considerably reworking. 

There are two good things about 'Revenge of the Cybermen' (three, if you include the regulars); firstly, if you are a continuity obsessed fanboy you can amuse yourself by thinking up imaginative theories for why the Seal of Rassilon decorates Voga that amount to more than just "Roger Murray-Leach was the designer on 'The Deadly Assassin' as well". The second is that the Nerva Beacon sets are pretty good, but since I said that about them when they were used in 'The Ark in Space', this is hardly news. I should also mention the regulars; Harry and Sarah get comparatively little to do, but the Doctor is generally on form, and I do like the scene when he bellows "Harry Sullivan is an imbecile!" He gets some other good moments too, such as when Sarah tells him that it is good to see him and he looks her wide eyed and asks "Is it?"

Regrettably however, everything else is utter shite. The plot is mind-bogglingly unoriginal, consisting in large parts of a sort reprise of Gerry Davis' greatest hits. Or to be more accurate, 'The Moonbase' and 'The Wheel in Space'. Thus, we have Cybermats infiltrating a space station and killing people with a virus that produces a network of lines beneath the skin, before the Cybermen turn up half-way through. Despite their own flaws, both of those stories managed to be memorably creepy, due to decent direction and the fact that they didn't have the phrase "the Cybermen" in their titles. Having thus eliminated any sense of surprise whatsoever, the writers seem to decide not to bother with suspense (it would still have been possible - a Cyberman puts in an appearance in Episode One of 'The Moonbase', for example). Despite a promising early sequence of the corpse-strewn Beacon, the plot becomes mind-numbingly banal after five minutes, the Doctor explaining that the threat facing them is the Cybermen in a manner that suggests he's breaking the news of impending light drizzle. Kellman's villainy is so obvious from the very beginning, that the viewer might be forgiven for expecting a twist to reveal that he is actually entirely blameless and a really nice chap. Even the fact that Kellman is a double agent, secretly working for the Vogans, is signposted early on. Jeremy Wilkin is almost reasonable as Kellman, but seems to have got bored with the script, and decided to abandon subtlety, smirking in a naughty way throughout, just in case we haven't worked out that he's a villain. Absurdly, even his costume is villainous, prominently featuring a trim polo neck that creates the impression of a feeble attempt to impersonate a James Bond villain. And just to make certain that the viewer won't be traumatized by the shock of any interesting developments, we get a tepid cameo of the Cybermen on board their ship in Episode One, with the Cyberleader amusingly giving hand signals to two Cybermen who are looking in entirely the opposite direction. 

Once the Cybermen actually appear, the first time viewer might be expecting things to improve. Think again, novices; Christopher Robbie has other ideas! There have been lapses in the portrayal of the Cybermen as emotionless creatures before (witness the sarcastic Cyberman in 'The Moonbase'), but Robbie just takes the piss. His posing Cyberleader with his hands on his hips struts arrogantly about, displaying almost every emotion known to humanity and delivering dodgy lines in a strange (but crap) accent. Any sense of intimidation that the Cybermen once had goes out of the window as the Cyberleader talks of impressive spectacles in a booming and extravagant tone of voice and playful tickles the Doctor's collar-bones in Episode Four (perhaps Tom hadn't fully recovered from the broken collar-bone he received during the filming of 'The Sontaran Experiment' and asked Christopher if he knew anything about physiotherapy. Or perhaps not). The other Cybermen are almost as unimpressive, the Director foolishly having elected to let the actors themselves provide the voices, which are the most awful of any Cybermen voices from the entire series. The Cybermats also suffer; once visually effective (albeit not very scary) radio-controlled props, they have been replaced by CSOed sock-puppets that hump actors' chests like overexcited dogs. 

Having recycled large chunks of plots already, Davis decides to give the Cybermen a weakness just like in 'The Tenth Planet' and 'The Moonbase'. The explanation for why gold is lethal to Cybermen (it plates their breathing apparatus) is a bit silly, but just about passable; unfortunately, Davis then seems to ignore it and gold quickly becomes to Cybermen what garlic is to a vampire. Suddenly, gold affects their radar, and small pieces of gold thrown in the general direction of a Cybermat will quickly disable the little fella. Luckily for the Cybermen, although the Vogans remember that their planet was blown up because gold is fatal to Cybermen, they are too stupid to actually exploit this fact when Cybermen visit Voga, and just get themselves shot instead. The Cybermen shouldn't get smug though; they're stupid enough to let the Doctor tie Sarah up in Episode Four without checking the knots themselves

The Vogans are not a particularly impressive race, except for the fact that despite having fairly limited technology they can maintain atmosphere and gravity in small lump of rock, and the masks provided don't help matters. Vorus and Tyrum don't look too bad, but the actors playing the other Vogans are given static and tacky masks that give a look of perpetual surprise. Amusingly, the city militia Vogans also wear dressing gowns and have unkempt hair, diverting attention away from the plot by allowing one to ponder exactly what surprised them. They are such a dull race that it is very difficult to care whether they get blown up or not (bit like the Dulcians in fact). To add insult to injury, the two most prominent Vogans, Vorus and Tyrum, are played by a pair of highly accomplished actors, in the shape of David Collings and Kevin Stoney (who, like the Cybermen, last appeared in 'The Invasion', where he was far more impressive), who seem to be half asleep throughout. This seems to be a recurring theme here, since William Marlowe, who was very impressive as Mailer in 'The Mind of Evil', also seems bored as Lester, as does Ronald Leigh-Hunt, who last appeared in 'The Seeds of Death' as Commander Radnor, as Stevenson. 

In short, 'Revenge of the Cybermen' is crap. And I haven't even mentioned the massive plot hole of the transmat's miracle cure, which as The Discontinuity Guide points out should, if it can expel poison from people, leave them stark-bollock naked and mangle Cybermen. And remove the millions of beneficial gut bacteria present in humans. And, just possibly, remove the plot.

What should or could have been a promising story was let down by a combination of things. After the okayish Destiny of the Daleks and the brilliant City of Death, I felt let down somewhat by the revelation that the Creature in Of The Pit was actually a good-natured monster - I like monsters to be monsters. And then there was the Nightmare of Eden.

What most let it down was the downright comic way the mandrels were dealt with in part 4, reduced to shaggy dogs following a tin whistle. The humour in the show had by now really reached a ridiculous level, and I felt that sending up the mandrels was really sending up the show itself. The mandrels themselves looked quite cool, I thought. Okay, they had flares but also wonderful green glowing eyes and corrugated shells for mouths, and at least their claws looked quite fierce. The problem was making the audience laugh at what had been up till that point a serious sci-fi show, by demeaning not only the monsters but the Doctor himself. 'My arms my legs, my everything,' indeed! Tom Baker's character had sunk to previously un plummeted depths with the sheer over the topness of his performance in the cet machine and his hamming it up was cringe-inducing. Oh, Doctor! I like a little humour and odd quip, sure, but this pudding was so over -egged it was more egg then pudding. In fact, I once heard that Tom Baker once wanted the cybermen to do Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers type dancing and to use that idea in a show. Is it possible to even imagine anyone taking dr who seriously after that, and I wonder how much of the mandrel's swan song was his idea.

The two customs men, Fisk and Costa, were made a bit more ludicrous than they should have been. Captain Rigg was excellent throughout but after he was shot down like a dog in part 3, crazed on vraxoin, nobody seemed to care about him afterwards. He was a good man who met a thoroughly undeserved end and all Romana felt was relief once he'd been shot. I dunno. Someone should have cared!

The Doctor's famous contempt scene towards Trist at the end didn't work - okay he was a drug dealer but he thought he was a goody, protecting endangered animals and suchlike, and he didn't even shoot anyone! Well, apart from Stott and can anyone blame him for that? I just felt that other foes that the fourth doctor had dealt with were far more deserving of the rough edge of his tongue, and as for his gall in using such (for the doctor) shocking contempt so soon after his clowning around scene, just beggared belief.These two very different aspects of the doctor should not even have been in the same story, let alone the same episode. I know drugs are evil, man, and the doctor is a role model, but still.

So basically, what started out as a very promising story in my opinion fell a little flat. Take out a little contempt, and a great deal of Michael Barrymore-type showing off from the Doctor and do something else with the mandrels and it would all have been better. But it would not have been the Nightmare of Eden.