The War Machines Episode 4

The one where the Eleventh Doctor makes an unexpected cameo...

Sometimes it's the little things that delight me most about Doctor Who. I think a lot of fans get enjoyment out of the silly little incidentals of their favourite show, those little moments that make them chuckle or get the hairs standing up on the back of the neck. Those private little moments that may mean nothing to everybody else, but which you always notice and treasure - your bits of Doctor Who!

I do enjoy the semi-regular feature in Doctor Who Magazine called Supporting Artist of the Month, which highlights some of the oft-missed performances by those uncredited people who mill about in the background, filling scenes and adding atmosphere. There's one particular supporting artist in this episode (who I think may well crop up in two different places) who I believe is a foreshadowing of a future Doctor! He's in the background of the studio scenes outside the Burrows warehouse, fiddling with equipment in a white coat (see picture on right). He looks the spitting image of Matt Smith! He possibly pops up again briefly in the scene where the US correspondent is reporting the news: he's busy on a phone, so it's hard to tell, but it looks like the same guy (and to be honest, I don't blame the other extra who crosses the screen, gently tapping him on the waist as he passes - is there more to these two supporting characters' relationship than we can ever know?).

The War Machines Episode 3

The one where the Army mounts an assault on a Covent Garden warehouse...

The design of the War Machines is both unwieldy and impressive at the same time. Raymond London's tank-like inventions are certainly formidable physically and defensively: as well as club arms that smash (mainly tables or empty crates), they have flammable gas-spraying guns, a miraculous radio signal that can jam rifles and machine guns, and a blinding headlight. These machines look and act like the all-conquering behemoths that they are, and they're certainly more convincing than their 1980s cousins, the Cleaners from Paradise Towers.

On the minus side, they're somewhat too clunky and bulky to convince me that they can take over the world. They certainly don't have stealth on their side (the incessant chirruping computer noises put pay to that), and I can't imagine how they'd actually get through a normal door, or down a narrow alley, or along a third-floor corridor, or even over an uneven patch of land. They have a range of about 30ft (or is it yards?) with their weaponry, but that's not good enough to catch every human being on the planet. WOTAN has an ambitious plan, but it needs a bit of work if it wants to conquer every major city in the world.

The War Machines Episode 2

The one where Dodo gets sent away to the country...

"Doc-tor Whoooo isssss re-quir-ed! Bring him heeeeere!" hisses the newly-discovered voice of WOTAN, thus opening a can of worms which has reverberated down through the decades and still has an impact today. WOTAN refers to the Doctor as Doctor Who, as does Professor Brett ("Top priority is to enlist Doctor Who"). Why he calls him Doctor Who is a mystery, unless it's his actual name (after all, WOTAN even knows what TARDIS stands for, so maybe it also knows what the Doctor's real name is?). Some of this is addressed with tongue firmly in cheek in World Enough and Time 51 years later of course.

A quick mention also for Gerald Taylor's thoroughly spooky voice for WOTAN (the end titles would have us believe that WOTAN is actually real and plays itself!), which is eerie, rasping and ghostly, not at all what you'd expect a computer to sound like. But it's all the better for that, swapping predictable electronic Dalek-style monotone for a more menacing vocalisation.

The War Machines Episode 1

The one where the Doctor visits the hottest nightclub in town...

Right from the outset, The War Machines is different, new and fresh. After the usual 20-second opening titles, we get an animated introduction of the story title, episode number and writer, with a drum roll to accompany it. This is highly unusual, but is another example of how the people behind Doctor Who were making changes to what was by then a tired format.

We're then treated to a glorious, sweeping view of the London skyline, and then a zoom into a leafy park where the TARDIS materialises. This is seriously progressive camerawork from director Michael Ferguson, a young talent who was only 28 years old at the time. His ambition and drive shines from the very first seconds of this episode. It feels very New Series.