Unfairly remembered for buggering up UNIT dating, 'Mawdryn Undead' is really a rather good story. It has a very atypical plot for Doctor Who, which makes rare use of the fact that the series can exploit time travel as a plot device. In addition to this, after committing the heinous sin of scripting 'Time-Flight' Peter Grimwade proves surprisingly successful at juggling an old enemy, an old friend, and a new companion. 

Firstly, the principle plot concerns Mawdryn, an unfortunate scientist who along with his companions once stole technology from the Time Lords in an attempt to emulate them. Having accidentally condemned themselves to an eternity of perpetual regeneration and mutation, they now seek to find a way of committing suicide, a difficult task for a group of immortals. This plot is used very well for a number of reasons; for one thing, it makes a refreshing change for a story to focus on an opponent of sorts for the Doctor who is not out to gain power, but who wants help to die. Perhaps wisely, the script side steps the moral issues of euthanasia by emphasizing the ghastly state of Mawdryn's existence, which further means that whilst he is suffering as a consequence of his own past actions, he is not an unsympathetic character. He clearly bears no malice towards the Doctor or his companions; he is motivated purely by his desperate search for help. David Collings, one of Doctor Who's finest occasional guest actors, conveys this beautifully, making Mawdryn seem desperate and pathetic, but never frightening, and also eliciting sympathy. The scenes in which he masquerades as the Doctor make for interesting viewing, and Tegan and Nyssa's uncertainty about him is made believable in part by some rather impressive burnt skin makeup. He clearly doesn't look that much like Peter Davison even then, but this gruesome makeup does make it easier to believe that they could mistake him for their friend. Mention of the Doctor brings up another notable element of the Mawdryn plotline, which is the Fifth Doctor's reaction to events. His initial refusal to help Mawdryn is interesting because whilst it's perfectly understandable given the cost, he clearly finds it enormously painful to reject Mawdryn's plea for aid. Even when asked to sacrifice his own life (or rather, future lives) to help someone whose predicament is entirely their own fault, he still finds it hard to turn them away. Davison brings out this facet of the Doctor's personality magnificently, and the Doctor's sympathy for Mawdryn when he first meets him speaks volumes about his character. When he finally agrees to sacrifice his future incarnations to save Tegan and Nyssa, it sums up this most compassionate of Doctors, as he visible struggles with the enormity of the situation that he is facing and still decides to put the lives of his friends before his own. There's also a certain irony inherent in his scenes with Mawdryn; Mawdryn is a thief who stole Gallifreyan technology and thus created his eternal torment. It's easy to condemn him for this and point out, as the Doctor does, that sometimes people need to accept the consequences of their own actions. The irony is that the Doctor also stole Gallifreyan technology, in the form of the TARDIS, and if he hadn't, he would probably have never met Mawdryn. 

The second main plot thread concerns new companion Turlough, a companion totally unlike any seen before. Mark Strickson makes an immediate impression in the role, as Turlough proves initially to be selfish, bullying, cruel, and arrogant, as his scenes with Ibbotson attest. As if these unsavoury qualities were not unusual enough in a companion, he soon makes a deal with the Black Guardian to kill the Doctor, and spends the remainder of the story alternating between trying to kill or manipulate the Doctor and trying to weasel out of his agreement. As soon as he agrees to commit murder, he becomes arguably the single untrustworthiest companion to join the TARDIS crew, and as such he's a great character. The Doctor's quick acceptance of his new acquaintance means that he is soon treating Turlough like a trusted friend, which adds an extra edge to proceedings, as Turlough repeatedly turns to the Guardian for instructions. Whilst Turlough will remain in thrall to the Black Guardian for two more stories however, he begins his slow redemption early on; after his initial attempt to kill the Doctor, he realises that the Time Lord is not the creature of evil that his Guardian claimed, and his general dislike of violence soon means that he's looking for less drastic ways to satisfy the Guardian. Strickson is great in the role, playing the arrogant bully with ease in Episode One, and then switching to increasingly panic-stricken coward as he realises that he has (almost literally) made a deal with the devil. His joining of the TARDIS crew at the end holds great promise, as he proves adept at lying and deceit and calmly shakes hands with the Doctor; indeed, it is worth noting that however frantic Turlough gets about his predicament, he always manages to present a calm faзade to the TARDIS crew. It's also interesting that Turlough's first appearance in the series involves attempted murder motivated by a selfish desire to escape his exile; lest we forget, in his first televised story, a certain Time Lord also intended to kill a man with a rock in an attempt to get back to his TARDIS…

The return of the Black Guardian is rather poorly explained given that he last appeared some years previously in the final scenes of the Key to Time season, but his presence does add an extra dimension to an already multi-layered story, without making it seem too cluttered. The lurking menace of the Guardian works well in conjunction with the use of his new pawn Turlough, and his quiet manipulation of events from behind the scenes is well handled. Despite inexplicably wearing a dead bird on his head, Valentine Dyall's utterly malevolent performance is superb, and he is one of only a few actors who can get away with uttering lines such as "In the name of all that is evil!" without sounding over the top. The Guardian's constant torment of Turlough makes for some great moments, his ability to appear to Turlough anywhere "waking or sleeping" emphasizing the nightmarish situation in which Turlough has placed himself. 

The other old face to reappear in 'Mawdryn Undead' is the Brigadier. Whilst the production teams' original plan to bring back Ian Chesterton might have made more sense in light of the school setting, Courtney recaptures his old role with tremendous ease and the Brigadier is very well used. The idea of two temporal aspects of the Brigadier means that the plot makes good use of him, rather than just treating him as a gratuitous guest appearance, and makes for a satisfying addition to the already busy proceedings. Courtney brings to the role an air of dignity that draws on the Brigadier's characterisation in Season Seven, rather than the increasingly ludicrous buffoon that he became under Barry Letts' tenure as producer, and this is partly why he works so well here. Courtney also manages to make Lethbridge-Stewart seem vulnerable whilst maintaining his old character, and his performance in Episode Two as the Doctor tries to discover the cause of his breakdown six years previously is quite touching. The flashback scene as the Brigadier's memory is restored is rather gratuitous but nevertheless strangely satisfying, as the fan in me gets to see clips of old stories; more importantly, the entire scene serves as a reminder of just how strong a friendship developed between the Doctor and the Brigadier. I also hugely appreciate the fact that 'Mawdryn Undead' exploits the two time zone plotline, which is crucial to tying all the disparate elements of the story together in the final scene; with the Black Guardian having stacked the laws of probability against the Doctor, the coincidence of the two Briagdiers touching hands at exactly the right millisecond seems appropriate rather than contrived. 

Of the regular cast, I've mentioned Davison already. Given the number of elements vying for screen time already in 'Mawdryn Undead', Sarah Sutton and Janet Fielding get relatively little to do, but when they are used, Grimwade uses them well. By keeping them largely together their different personalities can be exploited; thus, they get to meet Mawdryn and the Brigadier as a pair, which means that Tegan's automatic distrust of Mawdryn contrasts with Nyssa's natural desire to help those in need, and at the same time Nyssa's scientific background is well used throughout the script. Her ability to chip in when the Doctor is spouting explanations results in three way conversations between the TARDIS crew members which makes it seem less obvious that Doctor is explaining the plot to the audience through his companions. 

The production of 'Mawdryn Undead' is generally quite impressive; Peter Moffatt's direction is competent if unspectacular, but the location filming greatly benefits the story. The sets too are rather good; those for the school interior nicely match the exterior, and those used for Mawdryn's sets capture the cold grandeur suggested by the script. This contributes to an air of eeriness on board the ship that works particularly well in Episode One, and the incidental score helps. Paddy Kingsland's score is effective throughout, except for some silly music when Turlough is driving the Brigadier's car at the start of Episode One. The costumes used for the mutants are very effective, although exactly how Mawdryn obtains an outfit identical to those of his brethren having been carried into the TARDIS in charred rags is a question left unanswered… My only real criticism of 'Mawdryn Undead' is the propensity for technobabble, with talk of warp ellipses and Mawdryn's constant mutation little more than gibberish. The most obvious example if when Tegan and Nyssa become infected; the nature of their infection is very obviously glossed over, with even the Doctor explaining that he doesn't know why he and the Brigadier are immune. Poor explanations mean less technobabble, which is fine, but the fact that travel in the TARDIS seems to affect them differently to Mawdryn once they are infected remains niggling plot hole. But this is a trivial criticism; on the whole, 'Mawdryn Undead' is a rewarding story and one that is deserving of far greater appreciation than it usually gets.

The final story in the Black Guardian trilogy, 'Enlightenment' is very good. The concept of a race in space is not that original, but the idea of having the ships involved be replicas of sea ships from different periods of Earth history is inspired and makes for a memorable story. With the unusual nature of the aliens responsible for the race also central to the plot, the overall result is a story that feels like it's trying to be something special, and largely succeeding. 

The concept of the Eternals' need for Ephemeral minds to relieve the boredom of eternity means that writer Barbara Clegg is able to build a story around what is essentially a yacht race in space without it seeming contrived, but it is also an interesting idea in it own right. The Eternals' are memorable not just because they use sailing ships in space, but also because of the way they interact with the regulars. Marriner is the most obvious example; Christopher Brown's performance is initially deeply sinister, his obsession with Tegan seeming utterly predatory. During Episode One, and prior to the revelation of the Eternals' true nature, his intense interest in her seems sexual; his claims that he wants to please her rather than hurt her are not reassuring, they are horribly unsettling. Once the nature of the Eternals becomes clear Marriner's true motivation is revealed, but the disturbing parallels remain; in Episode Two he drugs her and then searches through her mind telepathically - it could easily be argued that this is a form of rape, and Tegan certainly considers it a kind of violation. Interestingly however, as the story progresses, Marriner's relationship with Tegan changes; she remains wary of him throughout, but it becomes clear that he really won't hurt her, and it is particularly interesting that the Doctor trusts him to look after her whilst he goes to rescue Turlough on board the Buccaneer. The effect of all of this isn't that Marriner is especially likeable by the end of 'Enlightenment', but instead that he ceases to be sinister and instead becomes rather pathetic, like a slightly frightening but harmless celebrity stalker who sends endless love letters to his or her idol. 

Christopher Brown's Marriner however is not the only Eternal of note. Keith Barron's performance as Striker is very effective, because he brings an impassive air to the role that makes it easy to believe that Striker is utterly inhuman. Striker acts almost as a spokesman for the Eternals, since he is used to reveal their nature to the Doctor and thus to the audience, and it proves a good choice. Barron's flat, almost disinterested, tone of voice conveys the nature of the Eternals beautifully; they are arrogant, but it is an arrogance born simply out of what they see as their natural superiority; they can control matter and they will endure forever. Their casual acceptance of the deaths of those Ephemerals killed by Wrack's destruction of her competitors is not the lack of concern for others demonstrated by, for example, the Master, but is instead born out of an inability to understand the importance of what to them is such a miniscule span of life. Barron brings this across extremely well, in addition to which he also creates a sense of boredom in Striker that emphasizes the fact that the race is merely a short diversion for him. 

Then there is Captain Wrack, played with considerable gusto by Lynda Baron. Baron's performance is almost over the top, but she gets away with it for the most part because as an Eternal who draws on Ephemeral minds to give herself shape and purpose, the portrayal of Wrack as a clichйd pirate captain is entirely appropriate. The decision to make Wrack female also helps; female villains are rare in Doctor Who, and this means that although Wrack is something of a cackling megalomaniac, she feels sufficiently different from the norm to be interesting. Having said that, the cliffhanger to Episode Three, when Wrack breaks the fourth wall and looks into camera, slightly undermines the proceedings, especially when Wrack rolls her eyes and then cackles; for some reason, by looking into camera Baron makes herself seem too over the top, rather than just enough. Nevertheless, Wrack works well as a one-dimensional villain whose very nature limits the potential for complex motivation. Whilst I'm on the subject of villainous Eternals, I should get mention of Mansell out of the way; possibly the worst actor ever to appear in Doctor Who, third-rate pop singer and recent participant in the vacuous "reality" TV show Reborn in the USA, Leee John is so bad that it is phenomenal. It is almost inconceivable that he ever got cast; his stilted, self-conscious, and just plain bad performance is the only real weakness of 'Enlightenment'. Mansell is not prominent enough to really spoil the story, but even so every other performance is so much better than his that it makes it noticeably cringe worthy. Even the actors playing the sailors in Episode One, who get very few lines, manage to show John up.

The regulars are all very well used in 'Enlightenment'. Peter Davison gets one of his finest moments in the role as the Doctor argues passionately with Striker, enraged by the parasitic nature of the Eternals and seeming genuinely angry. Perhaps more interesting however, is his relationship with Turlough; the Doctor is noticeably rather tense around Turlough for the first two episodes, but this changes after his panic-stricken suicide attempt at the end of Episode Two. What is particularly interesting is that it is never explained whether or not the Doctor realises that his new companion has been working for the Black Guardian for some time. There are hints; he doesn't trust Turlough to await further messages from the White Guardian, and he doesn't seem remotely surprised when Turlough's contract with the Guardian is discussed at the end of the story. Indeed all he says about it is that he believes Turlough when he says that he never wanted the agreement in the first place. The finale of the Black Guardian storyline is very well handled and Strickson puts in a fine performance throughout; it is clear now that he will not kill the Doctor, with this ultimately resulting in him throwing himself overboard because he won't obey the Guardian. Even more interesting is the scene in which Turlough is trapped in Wrack's power room with the vacuum shield switched off - he stops asking the Black Guardian for help, and instead screams out for the Doctor. The final scene with the Guardians is very well staged, Turlough staring at the diamond and weighing up power and fortune against the Doctor's life; his final rejection of the Black Guardian completes his slow redemption. It is interesting to watch the Doctor during this scene as he simply stands quietly and waits for Turlough's decision; his calm attitude suggests that he already knows what Turlough's choice will be. 

As I've already noted, Tegan too is used well in 'Enlightenment', as she is forced to deal with Marriner's stifling attention. Janet Fielding alternates between anger and vulnerability very well, and shows Tegan forced to deal with an unusual and frightening situation very well. She also conveys Tegan's gradual realization that Marriner isn't actually going to hurt her rather well, as the script calls for her to start arguing with him about the Eternals' use of Ephemerals for entertainment and about the fact that her thoughts are private. It is this gradual acceptance that Marriner won't harm her that allows Tegan to enjoy getting dressed up for Wrack's reception and after two episodes of being frightened, exploited, or seasick, it's nice to see Tegan smile. Her relationship with Turlough is also complete by the end of 'Enlightenment'; she still seems to consider him unreliable, but they have reached a point where they can travel together in the TARDIS, and the chess scene at the start of the story shows that their cooperation during 'Terminus' has resulted in a tentative friendship. 

The Guardians are well used in 'Enlightenment', nicely rounding off the Black Guardian trilogy. The return of Cyril Luckham to the role of the White Guardian, now complete with dead pigeon, nicely rounds off the trilogy by reintroducing the Black Guardian's opposite number. It is rather fine to see both Luckham and Dyall together in the final scene, as the two Guardians discuss the race; in keeping with the idea that the Guardians maintain the balance of the universe, there is no feeling of actual enmity between them. Instead, the Guardians are portrayed as opponents in a game of universal chess, their argument about light and dark, order and chaos, taking the form of a political discussion between two wily old men. Both Luckham and Dyall bring great dignity to their roles, but at the same time Dyall recaptures the malevolence of his role, whilst Luckham brings an air of calm benevolence to the White Guardian. Turlough's choice, and the fact that flames consume the Black Guardian, brings a satisfying air of closure to the storyline that started in 'Mawdryn Undead'. Despite the White Guardian's warning that the Black Guardian will return, this marks his final appearance in the television series (and he hasn't appeared in any novels or audio adventures set after 'Enlightenment') and it stands as a satisfying end to the battle of wits between the Doctor and one of the series' most unusual villains. 

In addition to all this great acting, plotting and scripting, 'Enlightenment' looks great too. The sets are very well realised and capture the period feel of the appropriate ships very well. The model work generally looks very good, although the rescue of Turlough in a big net looks poor due to the perspective being wrong. Fiona Cumming does a great job of directing, creating striking visual imagery throughout especially during Wrack's attempt to destroy Striker's ship. My only slight criticisms of the production are the silly neon sign proclaiming that the vacuum shield is off, and Malcolm Clarke's intrusive incidental score. Clarke's score is particularly irritating during Wrack's party, at which point it sounds like what it is - a feeble attempt to recreate music from the appropriate period using an electronic synthesizer. But this a minor complaint and overall 'Enlightenment' stands up as a fine Doctor Who story and one of the highlights of Season Twenty.

I suppose ever since it was originally broadcast towards the end of the twentieth anniversary season I’ve been rather taken with the enchanting and imaginative tale of ‘Enlightenment’.

With the establishing TARDIS shots concluded we have the Doctor and Turlough exploring the darkened recesses of what they soon realise is the hold of a sailing ship which does rather echo the opening scenes of ‘Carnival of Monsters’. Thankfully this shipboard mystery steers another path with our duo moving onward and upward to encounter the boisterous, down-to-earth crew. Decked out in appropriate Edwardian sailors outfits their good heated banter is temporarily cut short by the strangers arrival. However following some relatively simple persuasion, the Doctor and Turlough are soon accepted as merely members of the crew, they even consider the Doctor to be the ship’s cook! The ease of their acceptance is in no small part due to a lack of money on the part of all the men the Doctor and Turlough encounter in the cramped living quarters. Whilst Turlough, typically for his character is more content to remain the Doctor is later escorted to meet the Captain by one of his junior officers.

Turlough’s decision is all the more understandable when the Doctor, and later Tegan, meet Captain Striker and his senior officers in the state room for what appears to be a light meal, something that is, apparently appreciated greatly by the Doctor. At first the cold emotionless state of the SS Shadow’s officers could merely be attributed to the responsibilities that their respective positions demand. It is however the interaction between the Doctor and Striker (played with an excellent cool detached demeanour by Keith Barron) as well as the Tegan and Marriner exchanges which helps us gain the clearest insight into these alien beings, now identified as Eternals. In episode two during an impressive emotionally heated exchange the Doctor learns from Striker much including that the Eternals are feeding on the minds of living beings to allow them to exist. Whilst Striker is able to suitably restrain his interest in the minds of the three travellers it is clearly more evident in the scenes with Marriner and Tegan. We, like Tegan, could assume this was merely romantic infatuation on the part of the ship’s First Mate but when confronted Marriner’s reply is that he does not know the emotion of love, he is merely seeking existence from Tegan. I find their relationship similar to a cat playing with a mouse, the cat enjoying its captive prey, the mouse longing to be free from the constant attention. With, as the Doctor discovers, heightened emotional states causing a barrier Marriner further attempts to calm his ‘prey’ by furnishing some quarters with familiar items taken from both Tegan’s room on the TARDIS and home in Brisbane. A cursory glance around the room reveals, we observe, a silver framed picture of her Aunt Vanessa, airline stewardess uniform plus the skirt/costume featured in the ‘Black Orchid’ story. When he escorts her there after she experiences a feeling of sea sickness Marriner tires to ply her with the suspicious ‘tot of rum’ more commonly given to the crew prior to their donning wetsuits and helmets prior to scaling the ship’s rigging.

It is Tegan’s discovery, on her first tentative venture from the TARDIS, of those wetsuits hanging up in a corridor near to stairs ascending to the deck that leads up to the memorable climatic ending of the first episode. With the Doctor, Tegan and Turlough in attendance in the ship’s wheelhouse Striker orders the activation of a viewing port by use of a series of buttons located under a wooden cover. First Tegan’s exclamation of ‘Electronics on an Edwardian sailing yacht’ and then to see that the vessel is actually not navigating a course through an ocean but is infact sailing with other vessels through space! Classic cliffhanger stuff!

Having established the general atmosphere of life on the SS Shadow we then gain another perspective on the race following Turlough’s apparent suicide attempt at the conclusion of the second episode. The space-suited boy is taken aboard the seventeenth century Spanish pirate ship, the Buccaneer where he encounters the scheming Captain Wrack (played with enthusiastic gusto by Lynda Barron). Now it has been said that as an Eternal Wrack shows far too much emotion when compared to the stoic Striker. I take the view that the minds of her crew contain far stronger emotions for her to feed off plus, of course, she is acting on behalf of the Black Guardian which might have affected her. I am also aware that criticism has been levelled towards singer and Imagination (80’s pop group (not really my type of music but I’m sure they had their fans in their day)) frontman Leee John for his portrayal of Wrack’s assistant Mansell. Whilst I’d admit he is not noted for possessing acting skills the part is such that it allows some allowance for his inexperience and his scenes and lines are fairly limited. As a seventeenth century Spanish pirate I personally feel he meets the requirements in a physical if, possibly not verbal sense.

As if the persuasive powers of Marriner were not enough Tegan is soon hypnotised by Wrack during their invited visit to the Buccaneer. Once again I recognised a similarity between this and the apparent ease with which the Master had hypnotised Jo Grant (‘Terror of the Autons’). It is understandable that Tegan would be the most susceptible of the three TARDIS crew as I believe she represents the audiences closest link to humanity. Whilst both Striker and Wrack are able to reach both the Doctor and Turlough’s minds their wills are not so susceptible to the Eternals control as the Australian stewardess.

I think it’s worth glossing over the Doctor’s desperate attempt to smash Tegan’s tiara containing the focusing jewel that Wrack had placed in it during her hypnotised state. Although it is inexcusable that he did not pick up the entire sheepskin rug rather than vainly claw at the pieces with Marriner and Tegan. I also feel its better to also forget the scenes in the grid room’s ion chamber and Turlough vainly attempting to pull away from the centre of the grid.

I do, however, appreciate the period detail in the ships and costumes, most notably those for Lynda Barron and the flowing feminine gown for Janet Fielding. The incidental music particularly in Wrack’s state room when officers, the Doctor, Tegan and Marriner were enjoying Wrack’s hospitality, was very pleasant adding to the stories appeal. Also I find it rather amusing that when the main cast members don the shiny black wetsuits and blobby red helmets of the second/third episode cross over they rather closely resemble, possibly unintentionally, some form of ant.

During this review I most managed to avoid commenting on the Guardian trilogy to which this is the concluding part. My reason for this is that I find it rather secondary to the main dynamic of the story although I do recognise its importance especially for Mark Strickson’s character. Although changing allegiances during ‘the race’ from Striker to Wrack he ultimately realises that this Captain is merely an instrument of the Black Guardian and she does not offer a way to break the contract he has with him. The contract, (of killing the Doctor in exchange for his freedom from Earth exile) was rather forced on him and it was a welcome character development that through his relationship with the Doctor, this was finally dissolved at the conclusion of the story. Whilst I grudgingly accept the enjoyment on offer in Mawdryn Undead, I do find very little to enjoy in the subsequent middle story of the trilogy. Apart from the guest cast the story of Terminus I fins is extremely slow and uninvolving. If it were not for the appearances of Andrew Burt (a regular cast member of the 70’s BBC naval drama series ‘Warship’ (the jovial Navigating Officer Paul Peak) and Lisa Goddard (her four appearances as small time criminal Phillipa Vale in the sleepy but surprisingly still popular ‘Bergerac’ series were the only must see episodes IMO) I’d probably wouldn’t bother with this story.

I find that the main plot of the race rather overshadows the return appearances of both Valentine Dyall and Cyril Luckham reprising their roles as the ‘all powerful’ Black and White Guardians. Having said that Valentine certainly gives a convincing portrayal of a cackling evil entity during his scenes persecuting Mark Strickson’s Turlough. Strickson himself rises to the challenge his character initially provides admirably, Turlough is clearly a tortured sole throughout all stories in the trilogy.

Maybe this is merely my opinion but I thought I’d just throw in that you could almost call this a story for the ladies (writer, director, leading cast member and now reviewer) but don’t let that prejudice your opinion of this story. Apart from that personal observation I would say that ‘Enlightenment’ is worthy of re-examination and maybe more people will realise what a neglected jewel it is nestled in the later stages of the twentieth season.

'Four to Doomsday' is a hugely underrated Doctor Who story. On the surface it is a simple story of impending alien invasion, but it is dressed up in such good scripting, acting, and production that it becomes considerably more than that. 

The key to the success of 'Four to Doomsday' is Monarch. Monarch is undoubtedly mad, but he isn't just some stock megalomaniac, due to a combination of scripting and Stratford Johns' portrayal. Monarch is an egomaniac on a colossal scale, utterly self-obsessed to the extent that he believes that he is God and so arrogant that he displays a mixture of astonishment and anger when it is hinted that the Doctor's technology is more advanced than his own. But Monarch is also laid back and confident, which makes him highly distinctive. He is magnanimous throughout, allowing the Doctor and his companions to wander his ship whilst he learns about them, although by Episode Four his patience is exhausted. He cheerfully acknowledges Nyssa's revulsion at the nature of his alleged plans to transform the population of Earth (plus herself) into androids, telling Enlightenment that he appreciates her spirit, and he likewise defends his decision to have tolerated Bigon for so long because he admires free thinkers. His self-confidence is his weakness; he allows the Doctor far too much free reign, eventually resulting in his own defeat. He is also vulnerable to flattery as a result; whilst Adric's reaction to his schemes his genuine, Monarch is so delighted by the boy's interest that he agrees to spare the Doctor's life at the beginning of Episode Four, since he is unwilling to upset Adric until he has been turned into an android. 

Monarch's dialogue adds to the overall effect of a highly distinctive villain. This is partly because of the way in which Terence Dudley scripted it, with a certain level of pomposity ("I would see the intrusion again"). More than this however, it is largely due to Johns' delivery; Johns seems so laid-back as Monarch that his dialogue seems unusually natural. When Bigon warns Monarch that the Doctor's hand will be against him, Monarch replies, "Then I will cut it off". He could have shouted this, or snarled it, or said it with a malevolent chuckle, but instead he states it so casually that he sounds like he's discussing the weather. It is not a threat; it is a simple statement of fact. This is crucial to the success of Monarch as a character, because he doesn't need to rant and rave, since he is already the absolute ruler of his people, has been for thousands of years, and is utterly secure in that fact. In addition, Johns makes Monarch seem entirely reasonable, most notably when he's telling Adric and Nyssa of the nature of the Urbankans. Nyssa is horrified at the notion of having her mind copied to a silicon chip, and then having her body destroyed, but whilst it is a ghastly concept, Monarch makes it sound so reasonable that it almost becomes Nyssa who sounds irrational. This effect is only brief, but demonstrates once more how natural Johns is in the role. 

Monarch however is not the only well-characterised supporting character in 'Four to Doomsday'. Enlightenment and Persuasion both serve their purpose very effectively, but it is Paul Shelley's Persuasion that is the most notable since he gets more to do. Shelley brings an icy menace to the role that offsets Monarch's seeming benevolence beautifully, his matter of fact order that the Doctor be executed obviously the act of a ruthless enforcer carrying out his orders rather than some gloating sadist out for revenge. The other main character of note is Bigon, the voice of dissension in Monarch's false utopia, who plays a significant role in the story by revealing much of the truth of Monarch's plans to the Doctor and ultimately participating in Monarch's defeat. As Bigon, Philip Locke also plays his part very well, and the cliffhanger ending to Episode Two, whilst clearly signposted throughout the episode, works especially well due to Locke's rather melancholy portrayal. On the subject of the guest cast, it is also nice to see such a multicultural cast, even if they are mainly extras playing characters that are literally ethnic stereotypes. I feel I should also mention the ubiquitous Burt Kwouk's appearance in Doctor Who as Lin Futu, although he doesn't get a great deal to do. 

The regulars are all used rather well in 'Four to Doomsday'. Sarah Sutton has the least prominent role, although her vocal objection to Monarch's plans for her is well performed. On the other hand, her collapse in the TARDIS during the very final scene is utterly cringe-worthy. There is little point in further ridiculing Matthew Waterhouse's acting, but the character of Adric plays an important role here. More so than in any other story, the character is thoroughly unlikable, snide and obnoxious during Episode One (his sexist comments and tantrums are notable low points), and an absolute liability later on as he comes under the spell of Monarch's charisma. The Doctor rather generously describes him as idealistic rather than gullible, but he still comes across as a complete tosser. Tegan on the other hand also proves to be a liability, but in far more understandable way. After the distraction of the Doctor's post-regenerative trauma in 'Castrovalva', she now wants solely to go home, and reference to her Aunt is a suitable reminder of how much she has been through since she first stumbled into the TARDIS. 'Four to Doomsday' is not her finest hour, but it is perhaps one of her most realistic; whereas in the past companions have joined the Doctor and faced the most traumatic and outrageous of situations with unlikely fortitude, Tegan is portrayed in a more natural light here. Her panic rings true, thanks largely to Janet Fielding; Tegan's overwhelming desire to both escape from Monarch's ship and warn Earth of its impending arrival is a convincing reaction, even though it places her companions in danger. It also demonstrates a lack of trust in the Doctor's abilities that makes sense considering how little she knows him. It makes Tegan seem unfavorable, but it also makes her seem like a normal person thrust into deeply unusual circumstances and thus is both understandable and believable. Finally, Davison continues to live up to the promise that he showed in 'Castrovalva'; his Doctor's approach to the situation is significantly different from that of Baker, whose Doctor would perhaps have antagonized Monarch form the start. Instead, the Fifth Doctor ingratiates himself in order to find out exactly what is going on, and eventually sets out to stop Monarch once he has got to the bottom of the situation. It is worth mentioning that by the end of Episode Three the Doctor sets out to beat his opponent and Episode Four consists almost entirely of Monarch's little empire collapsing as the Doctor sows the seeds of rebellion. It is also the Doctor's insight that saves him and his companions from Monarch at the end; realizing that Monarch is still at least partially in the flesh time, he kills him with his own toxin. One final note of interest; it is obvious in retrospect that 'Four to Doomsday' is the first story that Davison recorded in the role, since his performance as the Doctor is far more nervous and twitchy than during the rest of the season.

In addition to all of this, 'Four to Doomsday' benefits from great production. John Black's direction makes the most of the impressive sets and costumes and the adequate model work, and Roger Limb's incidental score also adds to the proceedings. The Monopticons also work well, proving memorable and surprisingly well realized (specifically, they don't wobble!). The various entertainments organized by the Urbankans, including the Chinese Dragon dance, are well choreographed and contribute to the gorgeous look of the story. Indeed my only criticisms of 'Four to Doomsday' are minor plot holes. The Doctor's ability to survive for six minutes in sub-zero temperatures is not inconsistent with past stories, but his seeming ability to survive in a vacuum, an aspect of space walking entirely ignored by the script, is rather less plausible. I also can't help wondering what Monarch has been doing on his previous visits to Earth; why has he taken representatives of different cultures if he's planning to exterminate life on Earth with toxin anyway? Why didn't he colonize the planet before? These issues remain unclear. Fortunately, these issues are very minor and are outweighed by the merits of the story, which ultimately is deserving of far more recognition that it usually receives.

'Kinda' looks awful. The sets are horribly cheap looking and obviously studio bound, the jungle set being arguably the worst to appear in the series since 'Planet of the Daleks', with the actual studio floor painfully in evidence throughout. The sets used for the Dome are no better, composed of tacky looking plastic and metal components that appear to have been bought on the cheap from a DIY store. The costumes are even worse; the Kinda costumes seem to have been cobbled together from spare curtains and table cloth, and Sanders' colonial outfit, complete with pith helmet, is woefully unsubtle, as though trying to beat the viewer over the head with the colonial aspect of the script. The snake is positively notorious, an enormous inflatable toy that is the low point of the already cheap production; The Discontinuity Guide tries to excuse it by suggesting that since the Mara is a creature of false fears, its realization as a poor origami monster is appropriate, but this smacks somewhat of desperate optimism. But 'Kinda' is unique; it is the only story in Doctor Who's entire run where the production values are so poor that I am constantly aware of them throughout, but still manage to become utterly engrossed in the story. Because 'Kinda' has an astonishing script, and the full promise of this is delivered upon superbly by an astonishing cast. 

There is much to enjoy in 'Kinda'. I know next to nothing about Buddhism, but it is well known that 'Kinda' is full of Buddhist references. I am informed that one of the most significant of these is the Wheel of Life, a concept deployed skillfully to show that supposedly primitive Kinda are in fact far more sophisticated than they seem to be. The sequence at the end of Episode Three in which Panna gives the Doctor and Todd a vision of what will happen if the Mara is not defeated is a captivating scene that director Peter Grimwade handles with great skill. Panna's talk of the Wheel turning and civilizations rising and falling demonstrates an understanding of time that impresses even the Doctor, and brings home to him the real danger on Deva Loka. Also used throughout are references to Christianity; Deva Loka is an obvious parallel to the Garden of Eden, with the Mara as the serpent in paradise. The script doesn't particularly comment on either Buddhism or Christianity, it simply draws upon them to add colour and depth to the plot. And of course there are other issues explored perhaps more familiar to Doctor Who, most notably colonialism; the patronizing attitude of the human survey team and the arrogance inherent in their intention to colonize a planet already inhabited is an old issue. The "standard procedure" of taking hostages is abominable, especially given the peaceful nature of the Kinda prior to that point, and Christopher Bailey quietly condemns this without drawing excessive attention to it. The well-meaning Todd, who has made vocal objections about this policy to Sanders, is given far more insight into how wrong it is when she herself is imprisoned by Hindle, to her obvious discomfort. Rather than having the Doctor point out that this is how the Kinda must have felt, the viewer is instead left to draw this conclusion him or herself. 

These sources and issues are, perhaps surprisingly, mere background however. The two main foci of the story are Hindle and the Mara. As Hindle, Simon Rouse is incredible. Hindle is not a villain; he is a man driven by a stressful situation to the very edge of his sanity, and over the edge into mental illness. Rouse plays the part utterly seriously, making for a captivating performance, as Hindle, rather than being some clichйd and unconvincing stock nutter, is by turns terrifying and pathetic. Whether telling the Doctor, Adric and Todd that he has the power of life and death over them all, or crying for his mummy when Sanders returns, or screaming for the lights to be turned back on when the Doctor opens the Box of Jhana, he commands the viewer's attention. The high point of the entire performance his is stricken "You can't mend people!" in Episode Four, just before he attempts to detonate the Dome, a scene so intense that it is difficult not to be unsettled by his anguish. The entire role could have been horribly over the top or silly in the hands of a lesser actor, but Rouse makes it live up to the promise of Bailey's script. Even more interesting though, is the effect Hindle has on the Doctor.

Lawrence Miles' controversial 'Interference' features a lengthy sequence in which the Doctor is imprisoned and tortured in a Saudi prison cell; he is unable to escape, or reason with his captors. It has been argued that one purpose of this sequence is to demonstrate why the Doctor is not used to battle real life evils, because he is ineffective in doing so. In the world of Doctor Who, it is possible to escape from a prison cell by tricking the guard into entering and then knocking him out with some handy crockery, whereas in real life it is not; place the Doctor into a gritty situation where he is for example trying to stop terrorists with no fantastical element thrown into the mix, and you are on very dodgy ground. This is of course largely a matter of opinion, but what interests me about this argument is that 'Kinda' goes some way to exploring it. Hindle is not some moustache twirling megalomaniac, but a man suffering from mental illness with all the unpredictability that that can bring. And the Doctor can't cope with him. He confesses to Todd that Hindle scares him, and whenever he tries to either humour or outwit Hindle he fails, because he can't second-guess him. Hindle swings from one attitude to another in the space of a heartbeat, and whenever the Doctor tries to relate to him he becomes frustrated at Hindle's unpredictability. In short, he proves unable to deal properly with a genuinely mad human. The Mara on the other hand is a creation purely of fantasy with no grounding in reality, and the Doctor deals with it relatively easily once he knows about it. He deals with the Mara with no sign of fear or discomfort, quickly identifying this foe and working out how to deal with it. Thus, as in 'Interference', he proves ineffective in dealing with a realistic human problem, but proves that he can always beat the monsters. 

The Mara itself makes for an interesting opponent, because it is so ill defined. We are told that the Mara inhabit the Dark Places of the Inside, that there are more than one of them, and that the Doctor has heard of the legend of them. We also learn that they can cross into the material universe through a solitary dreaming mind, in this case Tegan. This is actually very little information, which succeeds in making the Mara more mysterious and thus more disturbing. To this end, Bailey also leaves questions unanswered. When Tegan dreams in Episodes One and Two and becomes possessed, she meets Dukkha, Anicca, and Anatta, but exactly who or what they are is not explained. They could simply be three Mara, or they could be creations of the Mara to allow it to communicate with Tegan via a form that she might more easily interact with. On the other hand, there are other possibilities; The Television Companion cites a theory that they are products of Tegan's mind, presumably utilized by the Mara, and actually dark reflections of the Doctor, Nyssa, and Adric. Perhaps in support of this, when Tegan meets Anicca and Anatta, they are playing a board game, as where Nyssa and Adric in Episode One. Ultimately, this doesn't matter however. What is far more significant about these scenes is that they give Janet Fielding another opportunity to shine, as she is tormented by Dukkha until she reaches a point where she is so terrified that she agrees to let him use her body for a while. The allusion is obvious, and the scene powerful; Tegan's characteristic strong character is gradually whittled away by Dukkha's mind games, until she is simply terrified and surrenders to her captor, and Fielding portrays this extremely well. 

Tegan's dream sequences are also visually striking, and a great example of how Grimwade's direction helps the story to rise above the mediocrity of other aspects of the production. The effect of opening the Box of Jhana, the sequence with the clocks at the end of Episode Three, and the harshly lit dream sequences all drag the attention away from the cheap jungle set and into the story proper. The first-rate acting on display is also responsible for this. Richard Todd as Sanders and Nerys Hughes as Todd both put in excellent performances, and Sanders' transformation from belligerent military clichй to child-like wonder is especially well realized. Also worthy of particular note is the late, great Mary Morris, a figure familiar to fans of British telefantasy for her roles as Madeleine Dawnay in the legendary science fiction series A For Andromeda and its sequel The Andromeda Breakthrough, as well as Number Two in the Prisoner episode 'Dance of the Dead'. Her performance as Panna conveys an air of ancient wisdom, although is perhaps more memorable for constantly describing the Doctor as an idiot. Speaking of the Doctor, Davison is great here, capturing the Doctor's discomfort with Hindle and his confidence in defeating the Mara with equal skill. 

With Sarah Sutton virtually absent from 'Kinda' due to Nyssa being sidelined by a contrived illness, Adric and Tegan are again given more to do. Tegan I've already discussed, Adric I can hardly bear to. The character degenerates still further, becoming less and less likeable with each passing story, especially in Episode Four when he and Tegan argue outside the Dome. It doesn't help that it is difficult to distinguish between disliking Adric and disliking Waterhouse, whose ham-fisted performance throughout makes the character even more irritating than he might otherwise be. He's positively ghastly when Adric is trying to humour Hindle, although the fact that Adric's refusal to play Hindle's game nearly gets the Dome blown up before Sanders intercedes contributes to making the character equally ghastly. Given that Adric is a member of the TARDIS crew at this period however, his utterly loathsome presence cannot be blamed on Christopher Bailey and the fact remains that 'Kinda' is a remarkable Doctor Who story.

'Earthshock' is a classic. I know this, because other fans have told me so. Regardless of whether I actually agree or not, the fact remains that it's importance to Doctor Who's history is undeniable, since of course it sees the return of the Cybermen for the first time in seven years and sees a companion killed off for the first time since 'The Daleks' Master Plan'. Despite these memorable aspects however, the question remains, is it actually any good?

Actually, yes and no. 'Earthshock' has both good and bad points in equal measure. Firstly, there are the Cybermen. There are two basic ways to write for the Cybermen; the first is to focus on what they represent, which is dehumanization, the second is to treat them as little more than marauding robots from outer space. The former is what makes the Cybermen unique; the real horror of the Cybermen lies in the fact that they don't just want to kill you, they want to make you like them. Some fans have suggested to me that in the twenty first century, with transplants and prosthetics commonplace, the Cybermen are no longer scary in this regard. To those fans I say, imagine having your genitals lopped off then being forcibly lobotomized. The Cybermen worked so well back in 'The Tenth Planet' for this very reason, and their lack of emotions meant that they were a foe that couldn't be appealed to. The second approach is far less original, as marauding robots from outer space are commonplace in science fiction, but it can admittedly work on occasion as 'The Invasion' demonstrated. This is the approach that Eric Saward adopts here; with the Cybermen seeking to destroy Earth, they are committed to destruction rather than conquest and their survival imperative is not to convert more humans into Cybermen, but to prevent the Cyber-pact. 

Portraying the Cybermen as rampaging robots potentially reduces their menace from the start, and there is another problem; Christopher Robbie is rightly ridiculed for his emotional performance as the Cyber Leader in 'Revenge of the Cybermen', but David Banks is just as guilty here. He plays the Cyber Leader with a voice dripping with vocal inflections, and the Leader announces "Excellent!" repeatedly and makes expressive hand gestures throughout. I might be more able to forgive this if it were not for the fact that Saward includes in his script an effective exchange between the Doctor and the Cyber Leader on the importance of emotion, which works well in itself but only goes to highlight the fact that the Leader has been exhibiting emotions throughout. Smugness included. And the Cybermen suffer in other ways; the pointless sequence with the thermal lance is illogical padding, since they prove more easily able to break onto the bridge with explosives. Worse still, although not Saward's fault, we see two Cybermen standing around making embarrassingly chatty hand gestures as they guard the stairs in the hold. Perhaps they are arguing about how unemotional they are… 

And yet despite all these criticisms, the Cybermen work really well in 'Earthshock'. They look and sound great, and seem genuinely unstoppable in a way that they certainly didn't in their last story, and director Peter Grimwade wrings some great suspense out of the story. The Cybermen bursting out of their cocoons in the hold, advancing remorselessly on the bridge, appearing out of nowhere and attacking first Tegan and then the troopers entering the TARDIS, are all extremely dramatic scenes. Their redesigned costumes make them look physically impressive, and the silver chin visible behind the transparent mouthpiece is a nice touch. Moreover, David Banks performance as the Cyber Leader, for all that it betrays the emotionless heritage of the Cybermen, is incredibly effective; the Leader works supremely well as a specific villain to represent the Cyber race, and in this respect his booming cry of "So, we meet again, Doctor!" makes sense, as he greats the Time Lord not as an individual, but as a representative of his entire species. What also works is the scale of the Cybermen's plan, which puts at stake the Earth and makes them far more than the pathetic bunch of tin soldiers seen in 'Revenge of the Cybermen'. This is however slightly undermined by some ill thought out aspects of the plot, a problem that would return to haunt Saward again in the future; as The Discontinuity Guide points out, the power drains caused by the revival of the Cybermen nearly put the entire mission at risk as they come close to causing the engines to misphase. It could be argued that they are precise enough to know exactly how much of a power drain they can cause before this happens, but it is also worth noting that a sane captain would have dropped the ship out of warp drive and the ship would have been stopped. Possibly Ringway assured the Cybermen that Briggs wouldn't risk her bonus for anything, but it does rather create the impression that Saward is getting carried away. 

Mention of Briggs and Ringway brings me to my next problem with 'Earthshock', and another problem that will return to haunt Saward; the characterisation is appalling. Aside from the Cyber Leader, only two characters are really of any note. The first of these is Ringway, but he's very badly written; as a Cyber agent, he knows precisely what is going on, but he frets and moans about the missing crewmembers above and beyond the call of duty. Presumably he's engaging in double bluff, but it is taken so far that it makes his eventual revelation as a traitor seem horribly contrived. Secondly, there is Briggs. Beryl Reid plays the character with considerable relish, but the fact remains that she is so obnoxious, and so clearly in dereliction of her duty (she puts her bonus before the safety of Earth) that it raises the question of how she ever managed to reach and keep such a senior position. Especially given that Berger clearly finds her conduct alarming. Perhaps Saward is providing a clever homage to 'The Wheel in Space'. Perhaps not. The upshot of this, and the fact that Berger is given almost no memorable personality at all, is a common failing of Saward's; I simply don't care what happens to any of the characters. Fans of Saward like to argue that he brings an adult feel to Doctor Who, but this seems to be a rather juvenile concept of what constitutes adult. Saward racks up the body count, and 'Earthshock' is filled with death. The troopers introduced in Episode One are mere cannon fodder, and are superfluous after Episode Two; their roles on board the freighter are fairly minimal and could easily have been rewritten, but instead we get a lot of pointless running around or hanging about in the TARDIS. Kyle's death strongly suggests that Saward suddenly realises that he needs to do something with the character, so he kills her off. But Saward's death scenes seldom carry any weight because they are gratuitous; we don't get to know any of the characters well enough to care (with the obvious exception of Adric). 

But again, despite these deficiencies, 'Earthshock' remains compelling viewing. The constant slaughter is largely meaningless, but Grimwade's direction squeezes tension from the story regardless. Episode One is very atmospheric, as the troopers are gradually eliminated by an unseen killer, and the featureless black androids when they are eventually revealed are memorably sinister. Once the androids are destroyed, the bomb provides suspense; once the bomb is disarmed, the Cybermen step in. Whilst I may not care about the supporting characters, the regulars are constantly in peril during 'Earthshock', and this is where the tension lies. Design also benefits 'Earthshock'; the freighter is very well realized, especially the ominous, gloomy hold. The cave sets in Episode One are reasonable, although admittedly they bear very little resemblance to any caves I've ever actually been in. Most of all however, Malcolm Clarke's incidental score is incredibly effective and adds considerably to the drama. 

The use of the regulars in 'Earthshock' is interesting. Nyssa is once more largely redundant, but Tegan and Adric are used prominently. Adric I'll come to below. Tegan gets an important role in Episode Four as she is used by the Cyber Leader as a means of controlling the Doctor; prior to this however, she is left with Scott and his troopers and this result in some extremely dodgy characterisation, as she leaps over fallen Cybermen in search of weapons and generally gets trigger happy. It's utterly ludicrous, especially given her usual terror in really dangerous situations, and whilst it could be argued that fear motivates her to extreme actions (such as when she desperately wrenches at the TARDIS controls in Episode Four), she seems far too safe in the presence of the troopers for this be convincing. Despite this however, Saward does make some decent use of both the girls, by repeating a trick from 'The Visitation', but making it work this time. The opening TARDIS scenes are once more in soap opera territory, but here they work because they cause the TARDIS crew to fall out; once the androids are defeated and the bomb disarmed, the four of them get together in the TARDIS for the last time and apologies are made; having faced crisis together, this shows how close the four have become, especially the Doctor and Adric, which lays the groundwork for the finale. By first causing the Doctor and Adric to fall out, Saward is able to show them making up, which emphasizes the depth of their friendship. In addition, the final scene works well too, as Tegan and Nyssa hug one another in grief, and the Doctor stares in shock at Adric's shattered badge. Davison is on form throughout, despite the fact that Saward has a tendency to place the Doctor in situations that he is unable to cope with. Whilst he successfully directs the destruction of the androids and disarms the bomb, once on the freighter the Doctor is unable to stop the Cybermen. With the threat of Tegan's death held over him, he can do little and it is only when the Cyber Leader decides to kill him at the end that he risks using Adric's badge. This slightly impotent portrayal of the Doctor is not one of which I am especially fond, but Davison at least rises to the challenge, his performance brimming with angst-ridden frustration. And he looks devastated at the end…

Which brings me to Adric. I find the silent end credits to Episode Four embarrassingly melodramatic, but I can't deny that Adric's sacrifice is highly effective; all the more so because he is such an irritating character that in saving the Earth he rather redeems his habitual petulance. After his childish tantrum and subsequent sulking during Episode One, his insistence that the Doctor leaves him behind to save Tegan shows that he has started to grow up, and his desperate attempt to break the Cybermen's control of the freighter at the cost of his own life is undoubtedly heroic. It is also ultimately tragic; his initial tampering causes the freighter to spiral back in time, safeguarding Earth and ensuring humanity's future. He achieves nothing further after he nips back out of the escape pod. It is easy to joke about the demise of such an unpopular companion, and it doesn't help that Waterhouse's amateurish acting robs his final moments of some impact, since he just looks bored, but it remains true that on its first broadcast Adric's death was really shocking. Ultimately, it makes 'Earthshock' the classic that it is often described as. I'm not sure personally that 'Earthshock' qualifies for this term; it is inherently flawed and often poorly written, but there remains about it something utterly compelling that always makes it worth watching.