The Hand of Fear Part Four

The one where the Doctor asks Sarah to leave...

After three very middling episodes, this fourth and final part takes a real nosedive, which is a shame considering its greater significance in the canon. Right from the outset there's some very dodgy effects on display, including the thankfully brief CSO lift down to the thermal caves, and the really cheap-looking Kastrian sets by Christine Ruscoe. Nothing looks real or solid, the finish on certain sections is ham-fisted and careless, and it all looks very unconvincing. And to top it all, Elisabeth Sladen puts in an eye-wateringly OTT performance, screaming and moaning her way through some pretty ropey writing.

The Doctor and Sarah manage to avoid a series of cheap-looking booby traps to get Eldrad to the regeneration chamber. But once activated, it appears as though Eldrad has been pulverised, yet there's one more trick up writer Bob Baker and Dave Martin's sleeves: Eldrad lives again, and is regenerated into the form of a big hulking male Kastrian. And this version has none of the elegance, beauty or eloquence of the female one. No, the male Eldrad is played by Stephen Thorne, so naturally all hope of subtlety and nuance goes out the window.

The Hand of Fear Part Three

The one where the hand of fear becomes a woman of substance...

All this mention of the alien hand regenerating just makes you think about Time Lords, and wonder whether there's something Gallifreyan afoot (or ahand!). Of course, there isn't, but back in 1976, when viewers didn't know what to expect next, maybe some were expecting Eldrad to be a Time Lord, or even the Master in disguise!

As if he's read my review of episode 2, Watson decides to call in the military to take Eldrad out, and with just one emergency phone call, manages to convince Air Command to launch a nuclear strike on the complex. So that's the director of a nuclear power plant calling up the British Armed Forces and ordering a nuclear assault on a nuclear reactor with 10 minutes notice. I had no idea the people in charge of our power stations had such influence!

The Hand of Fear Part Two

The one where a nuclear power plant is evacuated twice in one day...

For once, a central control room in Doctor Who is a hive of activity, a hubbub of noise, mild panic and ferocious industriousness. The moment we see Nunton's control centre, it is awash with chatter, alarms and movement, which makes a change from all those sparsely furnished and staffed control rooms we usually have (my mind immediately goes to Space Control in The Ambassadors of Death, or the Space Defence Station in The Android Invasion). In particular I like the gentleman at the front right of shot who frantically taps away at his typewriter like Liberace, then flies from the room with his haphazardly prepared report!

Miss Jackson is rather striking too, a woman who seems unflappable in a crisis and manages to look stunning at all times, played by model and dancer Frances Pidgeon (also director Lennie Mayne's wife). She seems very loyal to her boss Professor Watson, refusing to leave him alone when everybody else has evacuated, but in the end rather haughtily obeying his order to get out. Brave, loyal, beautiful, and with an attitude to boot - she'd have made an ideal Romana!

The Hand of Fear Part One

The one where the TARDIS lands in an exploding quarry...

I must admit I'm totally baffled by the opening scene of this episode. It's a busy opening sequence with lots of information being imparted, but in booming voices that I find quite difficult to understand. It seems to be a man dressed in a beige duvet and hood wandering around pushing not quite enough buttons for the task at hand, talking to a disembodied voice which I also find tricky to make out. The scene seems urgent, and I just about get the gist that someone or something has escaped in a spaceship, which they then blow up, but the detail is lost on me.

Almost five minutes into the episode, the TARDIS materialises in a quarry (a real one this time!) and out steps Sarah Jane Smith in the worst outfit any companion has ever worn, ever! She looks utterly ridiculous in this Andy Pandy outfit, and I can't for the life of me understand what either the character or the actress were thinking agreeing to wearing it on public television. It's truly appalling, although Elisabeth Sladen must have liked it enough to wear it again, in 1993's Dimensions in Time (with added beret). She even made her poor daughter Sadie wear a version of it in the same year's documentary Thirty Years in the TARDIS!