The Masque of Mandragora Part Four

The one where Sarah attends a 15th century Italian knees-up...

And so Count Federico is dead. Very dead. And attentions turn to the next best villain of the story, Hieronymous himself, now possessed by the power of the mighty Mandragora Helix. It is stated that the god Demnos is a mere servant of Mandragora (such blasphemy goes unchallenged by the brethren), and the cowled brothers begin to circle the altar in a slightly shabbier version of Geraldine Stephenson's choreography for the Sisterhood of Karn in The Brain of Morbius.

Hieronymous says that Mandragora will "swallow the moon" (let's hope it has a taste for eggs), which automatically tells us that a lunar eclipse is on the horizon. Now, we've already established that there's no date stated within the story itself for when all this takes place, but Philip Hinchcliffe's novelisation claims it to be 1492. Records reveal that there were three lunar eclipses in 1492, but none of them were at the Doctor's calculated time of 21:43:08. The closest lunar eclipse to that time within the 15th century was at 21:43:56 on December 18th, 1488 (another close-but-no-cigar eclipse took place at 21:44:03 on June 11th, 1481), so we're still no closer to learning when this story is set. As far as the information given in the actual televised scripts written by Louis Marks goes, it's most likely to be 1488, providing the Doctor got his sums very slightly wrong by a few seconds.

The Masque of Mandragora Part Three

The one where a hypnotised Sarah tries to kill the Doctor...

It's amazing just how physical the Doctor has got in the last few stories. It must be influenced by the climate in British television at the time, which was heavy with police procedurals like The Sweeney, and action-packed adventure series imported from America. The Doctor is particularly active in this story, leaping on horses, assaulting guards, and engaging in swordplay with Federico's men. In fact, the Doctor appears to revel in the idea of a good honest fight these days.

Despite bursts of action such as the fight between Giuliano and the Doctor, and Federico's men and the brethren, this story is, for the most part, very talky, and has the look and feel of a Shakespearean serial. I imagine kids back in 1976 found this story a little underwhelming, although you can't knock how fabulous it looks thanks to a solid production team: director Rodney Bennett, designer Barry Newbery, costume designer James Acheson and lighting designer Dennis Channon.

The Masque of Mandragora Part Two

The one where the Mandragora Helix takes control of an ancient cult...

Director Rodney Bennett uses the stunning Portmeirion location to its fullest, particularly here in part 2 as the Doctor is chased by Federico's guards. It's like a whistlestop tour of San Martino, and having visited the location many times, they're all still recognisable today (although I think the steps leading down from the statue of Atlas are now out of bounds). I adore the brief scene in the marketplace, dressed so well by Barry Newbery, with its baskets of fruit and grain, and tapestries and sheets hanging on lines.

Also designed well are the masks worn by the brethren of the Cult of Demnos, an ancient Roman brotherhood that apparently died out in the third century, but is still going strong in the late 15th century. These masks represent hollow-eyed men in some sort of perpetual scream, although sometimes that scream looks like horror or fear. The golden mask worn by Hieronymous is something very special again, a face of demonic malice which looks magnificent however Dennis Channon chooses to light it. Hieronymous's purple robes are the icing on the cake, cleverly reflecting the natural colour of the mandrake/ nightshade plant family.

The Masque of Mandragora Part One

The one where an energy wave hitches a ride in the TARDIS...

It's been some time since we had a proper look round the TARDIS. It used to be quite a regular thing in the Hartnell years to see extra rooms and areas, but there haven't been many glimpses beyond the control room in the 1970s, so it's nice to see the Doctor giving Sarah a guided tour here. In truth, we only really get to see some corridors, and the cavernous boot cupboard (an out of focus photograph of a living room from the same file as Mrs Farrel's CSO kitchen in Terror of the Autons!), but it's a lovely reminder that the Doctor's ship is infinitely bigger on the inside.

The greatest discovery on this guided tour is, of course, the secondary control room, resplendent in oak and stained glass. Designer Barry Newbery plays a blinder with the new control room, making it much more Victorian, like an academic's study. It has different levels and sections, and I can well imagine the First Doctor milling about in there (not so much the Second). The Doctor finds a frilly shirt and velvet jacket gathering dust, left there by his predecessor perhaps, while Sarah discovers the Second Doctor's recorder. It's a lovely scene, and a lovely new set. Somehow, it fits this moodier Doctor. Not sure what the shaving mirror's all about though...

The Seeds of Doom Part Six

The one where Harrison Chase becomes one with nature...

If you take a step back - generally, to stand where most non-fans would be watching from - the jeopardy injected into the opening scene, in which our heroes are urgently placing pot plants outside in the courtyard like their lives depended on it, is utterly ridiculous. Yes, their lives kind of do depend on it, but it's still very silly, and one of those perfectly Doctor Who-ey moments that few other series could attempt straight-faced.

The Doctor, Sarah, Scorby and Sergeant Henderson are locked outside by a vengeful Harrison Chase, and it looks like their number's up as the mammoth Krynoid looms over them. But look, here's UNIT, headed up by Major Beresford, who uses a laser gun to fend the alien off. "Hit it square in the chest!" bellows Beresford, bizarrely oblivious to the fact the Krynoid doesn't have a chest.

The Seeds of Doom Part Five

The one where the Krynoid starts to take over all plant life...

Following the death of Dunbar - whose death is retribution for starting this catastrophe in the first place - everybody scarpers back to the cottage, where they are barricaded in by the ever-growing Krynoid mass ("It used to be called Keeler"). It's in this episode that Scorby, previously so loyal to his suave employer, begins to realise the scale of the problem, and that his beloved Mr Chase is far from sane. Even before he encounters the Krynoid face to leaf, Chase is irretrievably lost it. "I don't care who it's killed," he says. "People are replaceable. The Krynoid is unique."

I'm not a big fan of the elephant-sized Krynoid monster, so I'm glad director Douglas Camfield is careful to shoot it close-up, and never in wide shot, and I also have to admit that my heart sank when the tentacle smashed through the window, because giant tentacles are never convincing (I'm giving a little wave to The Power of Kroll there). However, the worst of it is when the Krynoid learns to speak, and that booming voice fills the air, despite it not having a larynx or vocal cords. I just don't think the Krynoid should speak, it makes the creature even sillier (it chuckles to itself too!). The Krynoid should remain a vegetative marauding carnivore, we don't need it to reason with us in well-spoken English. I just want it to kill people silently. Isn't that what monsters do?

The Seeds of Doom Part Four

The one where Keeler transforms into a monster...

I know he's desperately trying to save his best friend from being infected by a carnivorous galactic weed, but we start the episode with a flurry of violence from the Doctor as he jumps in through a skylight, punches Scorby, smashes a stool over his head, then picks up a revolver and holds his adversaries at gunpoint. Apart from the fact all this is not the sort of Doctor I admire or relish, it also makes clear that Scorby is absolutely useless. He's all mouth and no trousers, and is repeatedly confounded physically by a supposed pacifist from outer space. No wonder Chase thinks he's surrounded by idiots.

I'm glad it's quickly made clear to the viewer that the Doctor would never use the gun, but the violent Doctor we see in The Seeds of Doom is a reflection of the TV landscape, where gritty police action-dramas such as The Sweeney, Hawaii Five-O and The Rockford Files popularised heroes who used fists and firearms rather than their wits. It's interesting to see a version of the Fourth Doctor within this landscape, but I'm glad it's largely restricted to this story, or at least this era.

The Seeds of Doom Part Three

The one where Harrison Chase plays in his green cathedral...

I've said it so many times before, but it's always worth reiterating: the chemistry between Tom Baker and Elisabeth Sladen was mesmerising. When they were firing on all cylinders, which was most of the time, they were like a well-oiled double act, and very few Doctor/ companion pairings have ever come close (I'd nominate Pertwee and Manning, and McCoy and Aldred, as contenders, with Hartnell and O'Brien an honourable mention). The scene at the World Ecology Bureau where the Doctor tears Dunbar and Sir Colin off a strip is wonderful ("If we don't find that pod before it germinates, it'll be the end of everything... Even your pension!"), with the two leads playing off one another beautifully (the Doctor getting so angry with the civil servants that he nominates Sarah to take over, but then she gets really worked up too so he takes back over again!).

The car laid on for the Doctor and Sarah outside the World Ecology Bureau is actually a plant (excuse the pun) by Harrison Chase, who wants the lone survivors of the Antarctic explosion wiped out. He sets his homicidal chauffeur on the case, who takes our heroes into the middle of nowhere with the intention of shooting them, and presumably burying the bodies in the quarry.

The Seeds of Doom Part Two

The one where the entire Antarctic research base is blown up...

This really is peak Doctor Who, isn't it? It opens with an innocent man bumping into a crazed alien creature in a darkly lit corridor. The man is instantly murdered by the monster, which continues to stalk the shadowy corridors, before escaping into the icy night to wreak more havoc. I mean, what more could you possibly want? And all of this is accompanied by Geoffrey Burgon's beautiful score, which is a step above and beyond what Dudley Simpson was regurgitating around this time (don't get me wrong, Simpson was wonderful, but also frustratingly repetitive).

I think the combination of director Douglas Camfield and musician Geoffrey Burgon was a dream team for this era, and when you consider you've also got Robert Holmes, Philip Hinchcliffe, Tom Baker and Elisabeth Sladen in the mix too (as well as the excellent Robert Banks Stewart), The Seeds of Doom is possibly one of the finest moments in the series' history. It all just comes together perfectly. It's so sad that this was Camfield's final contribution to Doctor Who, because he really got it. Just look at the way he shoots these corridor scenes: knowing the Krynoid suit might look less threatening and more like a man in a suit if over-lit, he works with lighting chap John Dixon to keep it in the shadows, only offering brief glimpses of the creature fully.

The Seeds of Doom Part One

The one where an alien seed pod is discovered in the Antarctic permafrost...

Everything about the opening scenes of this episode screams The Thing from Another World, the 1951 film which adapted John W Campbell Jr's 1938 novella Who Goes There? (how ironic!). Most people will know the 1982 John Carpenter adaptation (The Thing) much better, but in this case Doctor Who got there earlier. Who goes there? Who, of course!

Two scientists discover a strange seed pod buried deep in the Antarctic permafrost, so deep that it's probably been there for 20,000 years. The ice may look like popcorn, but it's kept this mystery object safe since the last Ice Age, and already it's obvious that it should have stayed that way.