The Greatest Show in the Galaxy Part Two

The one where the Doctor is chosen as an act in the Psychic Circus talent contest...

Part 1 concentrated on establishing the characters, and part 2 cracks on with the story proper as the Doctor and Ace enter the Psychic Circus to the sound of rapturous applause from within. The weird thing is, there's no audience in the amphitheatre, which means the impression of there being paying customers is a fabrication. Where's the audience gone?

The reprise from part 1 adds on the fact Ace spots the Chief Clown in the circus entrance waving her in, which we see her visibly shudder at in part 1, but we don't see the cause until part 2. A niftier bit of editing would have made the part 1 cliffhanger slightly stronger if they'd left in the grinning clown.

The Greatest Show in the Galaxy Part One

The one where clowns dressed as undertakers use kites to track hippies in the desert...

That introductory line barely scratches the surface of how bizarre and surreal elements of The Greatest Show in the Galaxy are, but this is what Doctor Who was excelling at in its twilight years. It was trying new things, it was far from predictable, and it was going for big, colourful comic book ideas and visuals. Setting Doctor Who in a circus seems such an obvious idea - it was touched upon half-heartedly in Terror of the Autons - and I'm surprised it took 25 years to get around to it properly.

The deluge of wild and wacky images that bombard the viewer as the episode unfolds is almost overwhelming. It might have been filmed on location in a quarry to represent the barren alien world of Segonax, but the characters that populate this arid planet are far from dull and dusty. It all begins with the opening scene of a circus ringmaster performing a rap to an empty amphitheatre (but actually the viewers at home). The ringmaster warns of amazing and scary acts, and plenty of surprises, finishing with: "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

Silver Nemesis Part Three

The one where Lady Peinforte threatens to spill the Doctor's beans...

There's a lovely little scene in this episode as the Doctor and Ace trudge through the woods and Ace admits she's "really, really scared". I appreciate the sentiment and intent of the scene, as it shows that Ace feels confident enough to share her true feelings with the Doctor, and in turn the Doctor can show compassion for his young friend. When he realises Ace is afraid, he apologises and offers to let her wait in the TARDIS. In the event, Ace refuses to give in and will not leave her Professor's side.

But something bugs me about the scene. I don't quite buy the fact that it would be this story, this adventure, this particular set of dangers which would scare Ace so much. It's not as if Ace has endured very much in this story so far, she's mostly been wandering around the countryside listening to jazz and blowing up spaceships. I don't understand what's made Ace so scared, especially considering her run-ins with Kane, the Daleks and even the Happiness Patrol presented greater threats. It's a lovely scene, but somehow in the wrong story.

Silver Nemesis Part Two

The one where Lady Peinforte visits her own tomb...

The Cybermen disembark from their shuttle, only to be set upon by a trigger-happy neo-Nazi - and so begins the Battle of Windsor! These scenes were actually filmed in Greenwich, not Windsor, and the old warehouse has long been demolished, with the area redeveloped to give way to the Millennium Dome and its car parking facilities. It's thought that the comet's crash site later became the David Beckham Football Academy (until it closed in 2009).

"Eradicate them!" orders the Cyber Leader. Cue lots of explosions, machine gun fire, and impressive stunts as the Mondasian marauders battle it out with the Nazi numbskulls, but it must be noted how pathetic the Cybermen's weapons are. They don't shoot lasers, they just fizzle and spark like damp fuses, and let down the physical might and presence of so many silver giants.

Silver Nemesis Part One

The one where a comet containing a living statue crashes to Earth...

Silver Nemesis was Doctor Who's 150th story, as well as its 25th anniversary serial. It was a chance to celebrate the series' monumental achievement in reaching half a century. It was lucky to have reached this birthday, as there had been a handful of times along the way when Doctor Who could have been axed. The BBC could quite easily have scrapped it when William Hartnell left in 1966; the series was almost cancelled in 1969 when ratings had tumbled to a numbing 3.5m; and then there was the infamous 1985 hiatus, when the BBC really wanted to ditch the Doctor, but didn't have the guts. So to get to Season 25 was a real achievement, and this was the story to mark the moment.

But Silver Nemesis isn't a straightforward anniversary tale. For its 10th and 20th anniversaries, Doctor Who had brought back old Doctors and old enemies, celebrating the show's past and present. Lesser anniversaries tended not to be purposefully marked (The Invasion for the fifth, The Key to Time for the fifteenth), and although Silver Nemesis was marketed and intended as an anniversary tale, there were no returning Doctors, no litany of old monsters and enemies, and (thankfully) no Time Lords. It's just the current Doctor and the current companion in an action-packed time travel adventure. 

The Happiness Patrol Part Three

The one where Helen A's empire comes tumbling down...

"There are no other colours without the blues."

The Doctor, rather than try to rescue Ace from the miracle survival act at the Forum, forgets the fact his best friend is in danger and decides instead to hang out at Forum Square while he waits for Earl. He passes the time by chatting to Trevor Sigma, who shows him just how many routine disappearances there have been on Terra Alpha in the last six months - how can there be anyone left?! He also ends up crooning jazz standard As Time Goes By into a microphone.

As much as I love this story, it's messily constructed, as demonstrated here when the Doctor's movements do not follow on logically. After expressing concern for Ace's welfare at the Forum, he then drops that concern altogether to move to a different strand of the story. This serial could have done with four episodes and a bit of a rejig.

The Happiness Patrol Part Two

The one where the Doctor confronts two snipers...

Killjoys from the flatlands have entered the city to demonstrate, covering their pink uniforms with black drapes, and their faces with beautiful commedia dell'arte masks as they move through the darkened streets slowly beating a drum like a funeral cortege. This mass demonstration of public misery initially goes unpunished (Helen A allows demonstrations, surprisingly) but Daisy K tells Ace that this won't last long. These demonstrators are not allowed into the city, and so will get their comeuppance when they try to leave. This is dark material.

Meanwhile, in the Kandy Kitchen, the Doctor and Earl - a character in search of a point - are prisoners of the awesome Kandy Man, who explains what Helen A employs him for. He is her executioner, and he loves his job. "Just because she employs me as her executioner doesn't mean I can't be creative," he threatens. "Tonight you see before you the artistic, sensitive side of me. So I make sweets. Not just any old sweets, but sweets that are so good, so delicious, that sometimes, if I'm on form, the human physiology is not equipped to bear the pleasure." In essence (vanilla essence?), the Kandy Man makes sweets that kill people.

The Happiness Patrol Part One

The one where the TARDIS is painted pink...

I love some of the working titles of Doctor Who stories, many of which I prefer to the ones that made it to screen. I like the ones that conjure a feeling or atmosphere, rather than the more pulpy titles evocative of those creaky old Saturday morning serials, or sensational comic books. Planet of Giants does what it says on the tin, but I much prefer Death in the Afternoon, which makes it feel like more of a murder mystery (although there is no mystery!).

But there are so many to choose from: Is There a Doctor in the Horse? (The Myth Makers); Secret of the Labyrinth (The Masque of Mandragora); The Vampire Mutations (State of Decay); Invasion of the Plague Men (The Visitation). But it's during the McCoy era where some of the juiciest alternative titles can be found: Strange Matter (Time and the Rani); Flight of the Chimeron (Delta and the Bannermen); Storm Over Avallion (Battlefield); The Bestiary (Ghost Light); Wolf-Time (The Curse of Fenric); Cat-Flap (Survival). But my favourite of them all is probably The Happiness Patrol's divine working title, The Crooked Smile. Doesn't it just say it all, and so artfully? I so wish they'd stuck with that.

Remembrance of the Daleks Part Four

The one where the Daleks do battle on the streets of '60s London...

We've had three episodes of thrills and spills, people and things running, shooting and exploding every few minutes. It's been the most action-packed story I think Doctor Who has ever managed. But part 4 does not disappoint, not by a long chalk. Just when you think the production team can't possibly stretch Doctor Who's meagre budget any further, the Daleks wage all-out war on the streets of East London, the Renegades fending off the attacking Imperials.

It's stupendous, explosive stuff. The Imperial Daleks clash with the Renegades on the corner of Wootton Street (actually in Southwark, not Shoreditch) beneath a bridge, and are faced with what they describe as "heavy resistance". This is despite the fact there are four Imperial Daleks to the Renegades' two, but the Renegades do seem to have the keener aims, knocking seven bells out of the bling Daleks. The Imperials retreat like intergalactic wusses, but they have a trick up their plungers in the form of the Special Weapons Dalek.

Remembrance of the Daleks Part Three

The one where the Imperial Daleks land a shuttle in the school playground...

In traditional melodramatic fashion, the Doctor arrives in the nick of time to rescue Ace from the Dalek death squad, using his Sixth Doctor glitter gun to disorientate them (but he doesn't talk to them sternly). The resulting explosions are suitably impressive, something we've got accustomed to with this "big budget" story.

In any normal Doctor Who story, that would be the action highlight of the episode, but this is Remembrance of the Daleks, a story that does not let the viewer rest for a moment. Before you can say "Dalek mutant", the Doctor is grabbed round the throat by a hideous black claw from within the Dalek casing, giving Alison her one and only reason for existence when she rescues him with Ace's baseball bat. That done, Alison goes back into her box.

Remembrance of the Daleks Part Two

The one where Ace attacks a Dalek with a baseball bat...

The resolution of the cliffhanger is just as exciting as the build-up, with Ace regaining consciousness and kneeing the headmaster in the goolies before unlocking the cellar door to let the Doctor out. The Doctor falls onto his back as Ace slams the door in the face of the rising Dalek, which then blasts its way through the door with explosive effect. It's a well-executed scene, typical of this story that all the money is squarely on the screen. All credit to director Andrew Morgan for making this story look as glossy and expensive as he could.

Darting outside, the Doctor and Ace pick up some handily-just-arrived anti-tank rockets, and then go back into the school with the intention of destroying the transmat, presumably so no more Daleks can beam down. Just as you think you've got chance to draw breath, the cellar Dalek emerges and starts firing at our heroes, who have to dive behind an upturned table for cover. Sparks fly, explosions erupt, and Ace aims for the Dalek's eyepiece. BOOM! The Dalek's wiped out, as is the school's trophy cabinet.

Remembrance of the Daleks Part One

The one where the Doctor returns to Totter's Lane, 1963...

When Doctor Who began back in that dark November of 1963, I wonder how many of those involved in making it thought it would still be going 25 years later? The year 1988 would have felt like the far-flung future, a place that only existed in comics and Saturday morning serials. And boy, how the series had changed since William Hartnell first emerged from the gloom in that junkyard, his scarf wrapped around him and his karakul hat perched atop his white-haired head.

For Doctor Who's silver anniversary, the production team decided to go back to where it all began, back to London, 1963. Back to 76 Totter's Lane and Coal Hill School. How exciting!

Dragonfire Part Three

The one where Mel leaves and Ace joins...

Kane's circular control desk looks like a TARDIS console, with its operating panel surrounding a central column, which rises and falls. Seen for just three episodes in 1987, it's still much more convincing than the awful TARDIS console in the Jodie Whittaker era.

The Doctor goes off with the Creature to look at the star charts in the Ice Garden, leaving Glitz, Mel and Ace to wait behind and play I Spy (I love Ace's disgusted face when Mel suggests the game!). However, the three of them quickly get bored, and Glitz decides to return to the Nosferatu to pick up some commercial explosives, and for a second time insists the girls stay behind. Glitz's misogyny is extremely old-fashioned, but in this slightly more enlightened era you'd have thought his sexism would be included in order to be punctured. Sadly, his misogyny is given free rein because Mel and Ace let him leave them behind, and so they are weakly complicit. Writer Ian Briggs missed a trick there, because I'd much rather see Mel and Ace stick up for themselves and ignore him.

Dragonfire Part Two

The one where the Doctor finds the Dragonfire...

Edward Peel makes such a thoroughly nasty villain, perhaps the most convincingly wicked bad guy since Sharaz Jek. Peel plays the part totally straight, there's no over-the-top send-up like with Richard Briers, and Kane is given a good enough back-story and motivation to place him above the likes of Gavrok and the Valeyard. The Valeyard just wanted to pinch all of the Doctor's lives to extend his own, whereas Kane has a defined reason to seek revenge, based upon his love and respect for the late Xana.

Once the ice statue of Xana has been completed, Kane insists nobody else must have sight of such a beautiful rendition of his beloved, and so kills the poor sculptor. Those ice-burns he dishes out are nasty, and he doesn't stop at the sculptor: when he discovers there is a plot to kill him, he firstly murders Kracauer, and then tracks down the traitorous ringleader, Belazs, and kills her too.

Dragonfire Part One

The one where the Doctor goes on a treasure hunt...

That refrigeration room set is massive! Well done to designer John Asbridge for coming up with an impressively large set which must have taken up a substantial amount of studio space. There's also plenty of dry ice to give the impression it's cold - very cold - and Asbridge uses plenty of whites, blues and greens to make it feel chilly (complemented also by Don Babbage's lighting, especially in the scenes set beneath Iceworld).

We are introduced to the villain of the story, Kane, played with icy steel by Edward Peel. Kane is a cool customer who is cold to the core, and sleeps in some kind of hyperbaric chamber to reduce his body temperature to 193 degrees Celsius, like an Arctic Michael Jackson. Peel does a grand job of playing the villain, and comes across as genuinely threatening and dangerous. He's also pretty callous, putting a bunch of men into cryogenic chambers to use as mindless mercenaries when they are revived.