The Underwater Menace Episode 4

The one where the Doctor floods Atlantis and potentially drowns a load of innocent people...

This new Doctor's idea of a plan has so far left a lot to be desired. In The Power of the Daleks his plan led to the partial destruction of the Vulcan colony. In The Highlanders, he armed a bunch of angry Scotsmen and potentially caused the death of a number of highlanders and Redcoats. And now his crazy plan is to flood Atlantis to prevent Zaroff destroying the world.

"Can we all swim?" he flippantly asks. Most Atlanteans probably can, but a good few probably can't, such as children, the elderly, those who are ill, as well as the animals. It's as bonkers as the Fourth Doctor opening the TARDIS doors to flush the Master out in Logopolis, but here, there's a much higher potential loss of life. Sean admits himself that he's not a great swimmer, and there's also reference to some citizens who may have perished, including Lolem (poor Lolem).

The Underwater Menace Episode 3

The one where we're subjected to a laborious underwater ballet...

When it was only this episode which survived of the four, it's easy to understand why The Underwater Menace had such a poor reputation. Where episodes 1 and 2 build the story nicely, albeit with lashings of B-movie trappings, this third episode really pulls out all the stops in an effort to be as strange, bizarre, alienating and laughable as possible. It's not really an accurate representation of the story so far in tone and style.

Although his performance as Professor Zaroff never started off anywhere near subtle, here Joseph Furst cranks his crackpot up to 11 on the Bonkers Scale, giving the madman a swivel-eyed, Bond villain vibe which really does not match everybody else's performances. While all about him are treating the text as seriously as they can (or ought), Furst is chewing the scenery as if it's his last meal. His diction leaves a lot to be desired too, which is more unfortunate when you realise it's Furst's real accent, not put on...

The Underwater Menace Episode 2

The one where the Doctor realises Zaroff is a complete fruit loop...

Oh joy! The Underwater Menace episode 2 is the earliest surviving episode of Patrick Troughton's era, and so finally I can watch as well as listen! And what an absolute revelation Troughton is now that he can actually be seen! He had the most amazing face, so expressive and lived-in, and capable of interpreting entire scripts without a word. And the depth in his performance is astounding, and a lasting lesson in the art of the thespian for generations to come.

Troughton is a physical performer, but I don't necessarily mean in the action-packed, corridor-running way. I mean he's always doing something, and that something could be fiddling with a prop, or a revealing facial expression. You can see everything the Doctor is thinking behind Troughton's eyes, he's truly living the character. Troughton's not playing the Doctor; he is the Doctor.

The Underwater Menace Episode 1

The one where the TARDIS lands in Atlantis...

As this adventure opens, Jamie is introduced to the wonders and marvels of the TARDIS and its impossible interior, although the Scotsman seems to get over it all and accept things quite quickly. I suppose he had to, seeing as he was written into this serial rather hastily at a very late stage. This TARDIS scene is very grounding, as the new four-strong team seem to be very happy in one another's company, and keen to get on with things.

One particular joy about this scene is Patrick Troughton's Doctor, who so far has been something of a moveable feast. Cold and scheming in The Power of the Daleks, but a complete buffoon in The Highlanders, here he's much more the Second Doctor we recognise, and his child-like excitement is deliciously reassuring. The viewers share the excitement and mystery of the TARDIS landing in a brand new place, so it's lovely to have that expressed on screen, endearing this new Doctor to us. Not knowing where or when they've landed is fun, he says, and when we overhear the Doctor, Ben and Polly's thoughts about where they might have landed, the Doctor's hope for "prehistoric monsters" is delightfully innocent and wide-eyed. It puts me in mind of the Eleventh Doctor and how excited he'd probably be in the same situation.

The Highlanders Episode 4

The one where the TARDIS gains a fourth crewmember...

Luckily, action man Ben has slipped free of his bonds and swam away from the Annabelle and back to shore, affording viewers (well, in 1967) the splendid sight of a dripping wet Michael Craze. The surviving telesnap makes him look like he's shivering with ecstasy, which is fine by me. Ben later reveals that he escaped his bonds by using an old Houdini trick, by flexing his muscles when he was tied up, and relaxing them afterwards... "that way, you were half the size you were". Blimey, how muscly is Ben under there?

Once at the quayside, Ben encounters a wounded Redcoat with a silly moustache and a gruff Cockney accent, but it's alright because it's only the Doctor in disguise. Again. There's no sense to him being dressed this way at all, and certainly no need. He claims it's to prevent the other soldiers bothering him, but where exactly did he get the clothes from (presumably he's stolen them from a wounded, or even dead, Redcoat)? Why is he out at night wandering the quayside? Is it just so that he can plunder the dressing-up box again, like a child? Oh dear, I'll be glad when this Doctor settles down and forgets the tiresome disguises.

The Highlanders Episode 3

The one where Polly masquerades as a prostitute...

Similar to episode 2 (the only Doctor Who episode shown on Christmas Eve to date), this third installment is the only edition of the show to go out on New Year's Eve, so it's fitting that it begins with the unmistakable cry of the bagpipes. Hogmanay! Incidentally, later the same evening, the TARDIS randomly materialises during New Year's Eve celebrations at Trafalgar Square. Well, according to The Daleks' Master Plan episode 8, anyway...!

Generally, everything's just as it has been for the previous two episodes, which is to say generally humdrum but diverting enough. I can't help wondering why writers Gerry Davis and Elwyn Jones didn't set the story just a few days earlier, during the actual Battle of Culloden, as it would have been far more exciting and interesting. As it is, everybody's just stumbling around getting locked up or escaping, which doesn't make for very engrossing drama. The most interesting part of the story is Solicitor Grey's plot to ship the Scottish rebels to the West Indies to become plantation slaves, but even that's taking it's time.

The Highlanders Episode 2

The one where the Doctor impersonates a German doctor and a Scottish washerwoman...

The Highlanders episode 2 is the first and (as of 2017) only time that Doctor Who has been shown on Christmas Eve, and perhaps fittingly, it all feels rather like a pantomime. I wrote in my review of episode 1 how I wasn't keen on Patrick Troughton's interpretation of his Doctor, and the silliness just continues here. This version of the Second Doctor feels so spectacularly unfamiliar that he barely feels like the Doctor at all.

In the scenes where the Doctor, Ben, Jamie and Colin are imprisoned in a waterlogged jail, our time-travelling hero is really rather irritating. He claims he is glad they are in the predicament they're in, as he's just beginning to enjoy himself (the predicament is that they're being sent overseas to become slaves in Barbados, so I suppose every cloud has a silver lining...). He also whips out his annoying recorder again and blows out a tune, rousing the other prisoners into a rowdy singalong, as well as yelling the somewhat controversial "Down with King George!" because he likes the echo.

The Highlanders Episode 1

The one where a future companion holds a knife to the Doctor's throat...

As with the previous historically-set story (The Smugglers), there's some lovely location filming in The Highlanders, particularly in this first episode. This serial is known for being the last purely historical until 1982's Black Orchid, which is a shame because the past provides rich pickings for adventure. After this, every time Doctor Who visited Earth's past, there was an alien force at work, whether it be Victorian London, Medieval England or 1950s Wales. When you actually look into it, Doctor Who didn't visit Earth's past as much as you think it did between 1967-89 (the Third Doctor just twice (and that's only if you count Atlantis!) and the Fourth Doctor only a handful of times in seven seasons!).

The episode opens with a battle raging in the distance - the Battle of Culloden in Scotland, in April 1746. Scottish highlanders have been fighting English and German regiments loyal to Hanoverian King George I. The Jacobites (so-called as they are loyal to King James VII of Scotland aka James II of England and Ireland) want a Roman Catholic back on the throne, so essentially it all boils down to religious schism, the canvas upon which almost all of British history is painted.

The Power of the Daleks Episode Six

The one where the Daleks massacre the colonists...

After weeks of plotting and scheming and biding their time, the Daleks finally put their plans for domination into action in the only way they know how - by exterminating every human they see. This sixth and final episode is a real bloodbath, directed with great energy and style by Christopher Barry. This is a finale 1960s Doctor Who should be proud of, in the vein of Destruction of Time, The Evil of the Daleks Episode 7 and The War Games Episode Ten.

The episode is packed with incident, set-pieces which sound phenomenal - if only we could watch it! Cartoons just aren't the same at all. There are pitched gunfights in the colony corridors between the rebels and the guards, and when the Daleks join in, nobody is safe. First Kebble, then Janley are massacred by the Daleks in a series of merciless killings which turn the Vulcan colony into a battlefield... and then a graveyard.

The Power of the Daleks Episode Five

The one where Lesterson snaps and Bragen takes control of the colony...

The Dalek production line has been very busy, reproducing creature after creature until there are at least 14 of them (you can hear the factory foreman Dalek counting that many amid the melee). These are very noisy Daleks too, trundling around like empty boxes on castors. Oh, hang on...

All this finally makes poor old Lesterson snap. He's seen too much, and the enormity of the situation is too great for him to process. Robert James makes Lesterson a gibbering wreck as he begins to make crazed plans to take back control from the Daleks and wipe them out. But it's all too little, too late. There's no going back now. "They're making themselves..." says Lesterson incredulously. It's an uncannily simplistic way of putting it, almost child-like. Well, you were warned...

The Power of the Daleks Episode Four

The one where the Daleks begin reproducing en masse...

Robert James's performance in The Power of the Daleks cannot be appreciated too much, he gives a knockout turn. This episode belongs to him as he portrays a man who slowly starts to realise that he has been blind to the truth, that what the Doctor has been telling him all along may well be right, and that he is not as in control of the situation as he thought. At the beginning of the episode Lesterson is trying to retain his control of the Dalek, insisting that it is he who controls it. He is met with a double-edged retort from the Dalek: "We understand the human mind!"

By the episode's end, Lesterson is beginning to become unravelled as his professional pride and achievement turns against him. He comes to realise that the materials he has been giving the Daleks to supposedly manufacture a meteor detecting machine have actually been used to mass reproduce their own kind. His already delicate mental state begins to break down as he realises what he has done, what he has facilitated. That he has been stupid and blind, and may now have endangered the very colony he was trying to progress. And now he finds himself at the mercy of blackmail by Janley, when she tells him he was responsible for the death of Resno. Lesterson is horrified by the loss of human life at the hands of the Dalek.

The Power of the Daleks Episode Three

The one where the Daleks will get their power...

The episode opens with the Dalek barking its repeated refrain from the end of last week - "I am your servant! I am your servant!" - giving the impression that everybody's been standing there listening to it bleat on for an entire seven days! Lesterson and Hensell are astonished that the Dalek can speak, and has some level of intelligence. It's frighteningly typical that the first thing the humans think of is using the Dalek to help and improve humankind - automation and enslavement spring to mind, using the Dalek machines in the mines for instance. It's true for all races - the Dalek is thinking of its own survival, as are the humans.

Troughton shoots a rare misfire in his delivery of the underpowered and rather naff line: "I shall stop you... I will...", but it is the Dalek (and voice artist Peter Hawkins) who steals this scene with its sheer malevolence. The Doctor orders it to immobilise itself, to prove it is a slave to the humans, but as soon as he leaves the room, it reactivates itself, explaining that the Doctor's order was simply wrong, and that it can only serve the humans if it is activated. "I serve you," it tells Lesterson, who is well and truly head over heels captivated by the creature and the potential it harbours.

The Power of the Daleks Episode Two

The one where the missing third Dalek is brought back to life...

Now this is more like it! Patrick Troughton manages to make the Doctor much more likeable and recognisable in this episode, and starts to become the Second Doctor we're more familiar with. He's not quite all the way there yet, as this post-regenerative version of the Doctor is still a little more serious and doomy than what we otherwise know, but there are tantalising hints at the mercurial vagabond ahead.

Having said that, Ben still isn't convinced that this new fella is the Doctor he knew before. "The real Doctor was always going on about the Daleks," he says. But by the end of the episode he seems to be more convinced of the new Doctor's veracity, moving from disbelief to partial acceptance when he mutters that the Doctor is in two minds "and two bodies".

The Power of the Daleks Episode One

The one where the Doctor becomes uncommunicative, but musical...

The Power of the Daleks marks the overdue, but much welcome, return of former Doctor Who script editor David Whitaker, whose last work for the series was writing The Crusade in 1965. Whitaker was a very capable and professional writer, particularly of character, and that skill is more than welcome after several serials where incident and spectacle often came before character.

Whitaker uses Ben and Polly's innately opposing outlooks on life to represent what the viewers at home would have been thinking. The characteristically optimistic and more open-minded Polly represents those watching who embrace change and renewal, whereas the more stubborn-headed and pessimistic Ben represents those at home who feel unsure about what's happened, those who aren't convinced about changing the actor playing the Doctor.

The Tenth Planet Episode 4

The one where William Hartnell leaves and Patrick Troughton joins...

And so here we are, at the very end of the First Doctor's era, where William Hartnell leaves the programme he helped make a national phenomenon three years earlier. Frustratingly, The Tenth Planet episode 4 is also missing from the archives, and actually begins the longest run of consecutive missing episodes - 12 episodes between October 29th, 1966 and January 14th, 1967. Luckily, we have the audio of the episode, and although it was reconstructed using animation for the 2013 DVD release, I've chosen to stick to what we have from the episode as transmitted - the fan-recorded off-air audio and John Cura's telesnaps - and reviewed the VHS reconstruction from 2000.

William Hartnell makes an early return to the action, having gotten over his bronchitis, which is just as well given that this was scheduled to be his last ever episode (goodness knows what Plan B was if he was still too ill to record!). The Doctor tells Polly that he's not sure what happened to him, but that it "comes from an outside influence. This old body of mine is wearing a bit thin." An early indicator to the audience that not all is what it seems, and that we may not have seen the last of this strange influence upon our hero just yet.

The Tenth Planet Episode 3

The one where General Cutler risks the future of Earth to save his son...

Can I just say, before we start, seeing as he's the first person we see in episode 3, a big "Woof!" to the actor playing the radar technician, Christopher Matthews. That's all.

Right, where are we? Ah yes, there's hundreds of Cyber-ships on their way from Mondas to Earth, so what better time for the Doctor to suddenly, without warning or due cause, faint. In the real world, of course, William Hartnell was not a well man, and although his performances in preceding stories such as The Smugglers and The War Machines were as good as ever, they had been recorded during the summer of 1966, when Hartnell was obviously feeling better. By the time recording for Season 4 resumed for The Tenth Planet in mid-September, Hartnell was noticeably frailer and his performance was suffering. Something had to be done, so the Doctor's role was greatly reduced for this story, and on August 6th, 1966, it was announced to the media that Hartnell would be leaving Doctor Who.

The Tenth Planet Episode 2

The one where the Cybermen storm Snowcap Base...

As with The War Machines, we get some vital information about the situation transmitted to the world via a newscast (this time on International Television News), adopting Russell T Davies' method of filtering extraordinary events through everyday means almost 40 years beforehand. It's a pity we don't get to see 1966 Doctor Who's vision of the earlier serial's London boozer as it might appear in the "futuristic" year 1986! Actually, it'd probably be a wine bar rather than a pub.

The Cybermen inexplicably don their victims' anoraks in order to infiltrate the control room, before revealing themselves in extravagant fashion by whipping off their ill-fitting hoods and displaying their utterly strange visage for all to gasp at (or scream at if you're Polly). These Cybermen, as we learn they're called ("Yes, Cy-ber-men"), really are very strange to look at. They appear to have been designed in a piecemeal fashion, reflecting the spare part surgery which took place to bring these monstrosities about. Sandra Reid's costume design might have been executed rather haphazardly (the Selloptaped headgear is embarrassing), but the aesthetic is terrifying and ageless. Fifty-one years later the new series would bring back and update the design, to fabulous effect.

The Tenth Planet Episode 1

The one where Earth's long-lost twin planet reappears in the Solar System...

The Tenth Planet starts with the same modern dynamism that The War Machines did (and The Smugglers didn't), complete with animated opening captions, shots of bleeping computers, and some stock footage of a rocket launching (it's actually an Australian missile test, but we'll let that slide).

We're introduced to a bunch of earnest looking men at the South Pole base of International Space Command (Snowcap Base) who are in communication with the two astronauts aboard the Zeus 4 rocket, Schultz and Williams. It's great that Williams is played by a black actor (and that his skin colour is not relevant or referred to). It's pretty progressive casting on behalf of director Derek Martinus, because although we soon discover this story is set 20 years in the future (ie, 1986), in the real world, there wasn't an African-American astronaut until 1983's third Challenger mission (interestingly, that was Guion Bluford, which is a twisted irony as the Caucasian astronaut here has the nickname "Bluey"!).

The Smugglers Episode 4

The one where we find out who Ringwood, Smallbeer and Gurney were...

I'd only ever really known George A Cooper as the interfering caretaker Mr Griffiths in BBC school drama Grange Hill before I found him in Doctor Who, so it's quite a surprise to find that he gives very good, convincing villain. He makes Cherub a thoroughly unpleasant character, and although he does sometimes stray a little too far over the top in his performance, he's certainly one of the best baddies of the Hartnell era. If he'd introduced a little more balance to his performance, toning it down at times to make him more quietly threatening, it would have been spot on.

If Cherub is a shouty, snarling bully, then Captain Pike is merely all these things in a frilly shirt. Michael Godfrey pleasingly does manage to bring light and shade to Pike, coming over as broodingly nasty one moment, and outrageously demented the other. It seems as soon as Pike uncovers Avery's hidden gold, he turns into a swivel-eyed monster, possessed by greed and obsessed with betrayal in the ranks. He seems hellbent on murdering the Doctor (aka Sawbones), and the energy Godfrey puts in to his final scenes is unsettling to hear!

The Smugglers Episode 3

The one where the Doctor, Ben and Polly explore a graveyard...

Episode 3 of The Smugglers is somewhat inconsequential, so I'll start off by addressing the whole dating issue that surrounds this story. It's stated a number of times that this is the 17th century (ie, somewhere between 1600-1700), but in order for the references to Henry Avery and his treasure to work, this has to be set in the 18th century. Avery went missing in 1696, and it is thought he died sometime in the next two or three years (it's not actually known where and when he died), so The Smugglers surely has to be set after that.

Henry Avery actually appears in The Curse of the Black Spot 45 years later, which is apparently set in 1699. He's still alive and well here, although he does "go missing" from history when he and his crew disappear into the stars aboard the Siren's spaceship. That's all bunkum though, and really does not help the dating dilemma in The Smugglers at all!

The Smugglers Episode 2

The one where Polly pretends to be possessed by the Doctor...

The Smugglers is a terribly violent story, which I suppose is inevitable given that we're dealing with criminals and cut-throats. But there are things which happen in this story which could never, ever happen in Doctor Who today, most notably the copious use of blades. At one point, the ironically-named Cherub mentions cutting off the Doctor's ears, and also refers to "what them Mexican Indians can do to a bloke's eyelids". Pretty gruesome stuff, and bearing in mind that we've already seen Cherub murder poor old Joseph Longfoot with a knife between the shoulder blades (cut out by Australian censors so that we can watch the brief sequence today!).

Incidentally, I was intrigued enough to look up what Cherub's talking about in relation to Mexican Indians and eyelids. Yeurgh! It seems the Comanche people used to cut off people's eyelids so that their eyes seared in the sun. There are countless other tortures attributed historically to the Comanche, involving pretty much any body part you wish to name, so Cherub has obviously done his homework (and maybe even some work experience!). "Let me give him a taste of Thomas Tickler!" Cherub threatens the Doctor at one point. I dread to think what that would have entailed...

The Smugglers Episode 1

The one where Ben gets his kit off...

Doctor Who had been off-air for a couple of months, and when Season 4 kicked off with The Smugglers, the production team was kind enough to put a quick recap at the start of episode 1 to remind viewers that new companions Ben and Polly had (forcibly) boarded the TARDIS.

Ben and Polly don't seem too put out by the fact there appears to be an entire futuristic control room inside a police box. Ben wonders where "all this came from", but that's pretty much it. The Doctor explains (very quickly and freely, it has to be said) that his TARDIS is a time and space ship, and although Ben in particular does not believe the Doctor, the architectural and scientific impossibility of the dimensionally transcendental police box just gets glossed over.

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.

The Savages Episode 4

The one where Steven becomes the new leader of an alien civilisation...

You don't get strong female characters very often in classic Doctor Who. You often get a tokenistic number of female characters, and more so in the Hartnell era than most of his successors' when you break down the statistics - no Troughton, Pertwee or Colin Baker story ever has more than 30% of the credited cast as women, for instance. So it's important to note the stronger female characters when they come along, and none more so than The Savages' Nanina.

Nanina is a character who seems to have been created in reverse. Usually in Doctor Who, the writer introduces a strong female character but then allows them to weaken or fade into the background over the course of the episodes, but Ian Stuart Black does the opposite. Nanina starts off as a stereotypical "maiden in distress", being chased through the scrubland by the guards, and then subjected to the transference procedure in the opening episodes, all with as few lines to say as possible.

The Savages Episode 3

The one where the Doctor is reduced to a comatose zombie...

I've forgotten to mention how cool I think the light guns are in this story. I'm not altogether sure just how they work, but it's clear that the light ray the guns emit is some form of tractor beam (a phrase first coined by SF novelist E E Smith in the 1930 novel Spacehounds of IPC), but the beam also has the effect of rendering the target immobile. And if the beam gets in the target's eyes, they are left unconscious for some time, as if mesmerised. The light guns are ingenious little inventions by Ian Stuart Black, and the sound effect accompanying them is good too.

It's actually the light guns which provide the catalyst for the narrative in this episode. In many ways it's a typical episode 3 in that there's a good bit of padding, notably with Exorse pursuing Steven, Dodo and Chal through the darkened tunnels, but at least it's directed atmospherically. But it's when Steven establishes how to turn the tables on Exorse and his weapon that things start to speed up again.

The Savages Episode 2

The one where the Doctor stands up against the Elders' experiments...

I've got to get straight back on to a subject that's preoccupied me ever since The Chase: that of how damn bloody annoying Steven Taylor is. Before I embarked on this epic episodic expedition through the history of Doctor Who, I didn't really have a strong opinion of Steven either way. I had a view of him as being a forthright young man, but that's about it. So few of his stories actually exist in full that it can be hard to get a hold on the true character.

But watching and listening to everything through has given me a much clearer idea as to what Steven is like, and I really don't like him! I've mentioned before how self-centred he can be, how he likes to be the one in the right and rarely accepts other people's opinions on face value. But it's the way he treats his fellow female companions which annoys me the most, and Dodo most of all.

The Savages Episode 1

The one where the Doctor is honoured as "the greatest specialist in time-space exploration"...

As soon as the Doctor insists that the TARDIS has landed in "an age of peace and prosperity", alarm bells surely chime! While he wanders off to take some readings with his questionably-named Reacting Vibrator, Steven and Dodo wait for him outside the TARDIS. These initial scenes were filmed on location at Callow Hill sandpit in Surrey and give the episode a bracingly open and atmospheric feel. Quarries and sandpits would become the laughable norm for Doctor Who in years to come, but here in The Savages, it feels spookily appropriate.

Judging by John Cura's telesnaps (hooray, they're back!) and the filming report in Richard Bignell's fantastic 2001 book Doctor Who On Location, it seems that William Hartnell himself didn't make it to Surrey, but we do get lots of lovely footage of Peter Purves (now dressed in what I like to call "puppeteer black") and Jackie Lane (dressed in what appears to be a dinner lady's tabard) with the police box prop.

The O.K. Corral (The Gunfighters Episode 4)

The one where the Earps and the Clantons have a showdown in Tombstone...

This episode, aside from being set in 1881, is quite historic, because it's the last one to have an individual episode title in the Classic Series run. Episodic titles would return in 2005, but for now, The O.K. Corral (complete with dots) was the last time Doctor Who had a different title every week. I must say I'll miss the weekly titles, they added much more colour to the stories, especially when Terry Nation was writing them. Between November 1963 and May 1966, you never knew when one story ended and the next began; it was like one long continuing adventure. For the next 23 years, a casual viewer tuning in and seeing it's Episode 5 might decide to skip Doctor Who and switch over to Buck Rogers instead.

So Wyatt Earp makes the Doctor his Deputy (again) but soon decides to turn from lawman to outlaw when he finds his young brother Warren (such a handsome chap!) dying on the jailhouse floor. Wyatt and brother Virgil decide to "step outside the law" in order to exact their revenge on the Clantons for the death of their sibling.

Johnny Ringo (The Gunfighters Episode 3)

The one where it's curtains for Charlie the barman...

I was very keen on finding out whether director Rex Tucker allowed the Clantons to actually put the noose around Steven's neck, because it's a pretty grim visual for a teatime children's programme. But yes, stuttery Phineas Clanton tightens the rope around Steven's neck, which I think is taking Wild West realism a little too far for the target audience. Mind you, I'm also well aware that rough and ready depictions of the Wild West were rife on British TV screens in 1966, thanks to countless imported US Western series such as Rawhide, Wagon Train and Bonanza, so maybe I'm being too much of a 21st century snowflake? Kids in '66 could take allusions to hanging in their stride!

A quick word for Rex Tucker here. He directs The Gunfighters with lots of style and panache, indicative of an experienced man who'd been directing and producing TV since 1950. He uses high shots quite often, notably looking down on the Last Chance Saloon from the top of the stairs, but also when Holliday, Kate and Dodo arrive at the Wagon Hotel. Perhaps the most striking use of the high shot in Johnny Ringo is for the death of Charlie the barman, who lies spreadeagled across his bar, liquor sploshing from a bottle onto the floor.

Don't Shoot the Pianist (The Gunfighters Episode 2)

The one where the Doctor gets put in jail for his own protection...

The Clanton clan are gunning for Doc Holliday for his part in the murder of their brother Reuben. The trouble is, the real Doc Holliday (who's masquerading as Tombstone's resident dentist) has framed the Doctor so that the Clantons think he's who they're after. The Doctor looks the part, and is equipped with Holliday's own pistol and gun belt. How is the Doctor going to talk himself out of this one?

The fact is, he doesn't. There's plenty of delightful dialogue which William Hartnell absolutely revels in as the Doctor tries to bumble his way out of trouble, but in the end, he has to resort to the only language the Clantons understand - violence! Although the Doctor accidentally sets off his gun, it puts the Clantons on the back spur, and thanks to Kate's help, he manages to put the brothers into line.

A Holiday for the Doctor (The Gunfighters Episode 1)

The one where the Doctor has a tooth extracted without anaesthetic...

Waitaminute-what-whut!? This episode of Doctor Who opens with a song! Is it a musical? What's going on? This is highly irregular. But hang on, what's this... It's set in the Wild West! There's cowboys and horses and guns, the works! Wow, what a stunning opening to the episode - completely different, utterly refreshing and totally putting the viewer on the back foot. How many viewers back in 1966 had to check their Radio Times to make sure they had the right programme?

And look at that set! An entire Western saloon town, complete with stoops and shops, a livery store and a dusty old track down the middle. It's no surprise to see the designer for this serial was Barry Newbery, one of Doctor Who's finest ever creatives. This might be squashed into Studio 4 at Television Centre, but to be honest it looks pretty expansive. You can tell that it isn't when you see actors taking their time to cross the street, because there's nowhere else to go, but Newbery has come up with a stunning set here, which has so much detail and depth that it looks real and lived in. And director Rex Tucker affords us some lovely high shots and low shots too.

The Final Test (The Celestial Toymaker Episode 4)

The one where Steven and Dodo play TARDIS hopscotch with Billy Bunter...

At last I'm able to see the imaginative set and costume design of The Celestial Toymaker, although obviously not in colour, as the beautiful set photos are. Daphne Dare and John Wood really excelled themselves on this story, creating the fantasy world of the Toymaker with brash and colourful skill. The design of the story is probably the best thing about it, but it's also frustrating that the sole surviving episode is the only one not to feature the wonderful Campbell Singer and Carmen Silvera. The Final Test doesn't really demonstrate Dare and Wood's work adequately either.

John Wood's set design is particularly reminiscent of those episodes of The Avengers which pit the female star against a diabolical mastermind in a house of traps. It's one of the most memorable Avengers episodes, whichever version of it you remember or prefer (Don't Look Behind You, The House That Jack Built, The Joker), and the Swinging 60s day-glo design of the swirling dice indicator, the reflective walls and the toy robots could have been influenced by Harry Pottle's design work on The House That Jack Built, which debuted in the UK on March 4th, 1966 - two weeks before The Celestial Toymaker's first episode went into studio.

The Dancing Floor (The Celestial Toymaker Episode 3)

The one with a food fight in a kitchen...

William Hartnell has hardly been in his own TV series these last few weeks. His part in The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve was much reduced (despite him having two roles to play!), and his physical presence has been absent from episodes 2 and 3 of The Celestial Toymaker. The fact the Doctor is both invisible and mute for much of this story means poor old Michael Gough has nobody to bounce off, and ends up talking to himself mostly. He does get a brief exchange with Sergeant Rugg and Mrs Wigg, but other than that, Gough is virtually performing a monologue. Shame.

Rugg and Wigg are this week's characters for Campbell Singer and Carmen Silvera to bring to life, and once again they come up trumps. Brian Hayles doesn't so much write characters in The Celestial Toymaker as conjure caricatures, so there's not much depth for your average actor to dig into. By all accounts, there were probably too many voices trying to be heard in the production of this story - producer John Wiles had his preferences, and so too did outgoing script editor Donald Tosh and his replacement Gerry Davies - so it's hard to know just how much depth Hayles gave his creations, but I'd wager what we get is a good example of what he wrote. Which is not much.

The Hall of Dolls (The Celestial Toymaker Episode 2)

The one where Dodo almost gets frozen to death...

As soon as the Toymaker made the Doctor both invisible and mute, I knew William Hartnell was off on his holidays again! It's a pretty blatant way to explain the absence of your leading man, and demonstrative of the contempt which producer John Wiles had for the argumentative Hartnell behind the scenes. Making the Doctor invisible was one of Wiles's ideas for changing the series' star, as he hoped that when the Doctor reappeared, he'd be played by another actor. Thankfully, Wiles's rather two-faced plan did not come to fruition, and we would enjoy another six months of Hartnell's twinkly magic.

The handful of lines the Doctor does have are delivered so dispassionately by Hartnell that it's obvious they were recorded separately and played back into the studio. There's no immersion in the moment from Hartnell, he's simply reading the lines from a piece of paper, and not performing them.

The Celestial Toyroom (The Celestial Toymaker Episode 1)

The one where the Doctor is made both invisible and intangible...

The big problem with The Celestial Toymaker is that you can't watch it. If you look at the beautiful full colour photos that were taken on set, and then listen to the off-air soundtrack recorded by David Holman, your heart sinks. Because The Celestial Toymaker looks stunning. It's just a shame that we can only listen to it, because that makes for a very different, and much less rewarding, experience, sadly...

As the episode begins we're reminded of what happened at the end of The Bomb, when the Doctor seemed to disappear in the TARDIS. Dodo understandably attributes this to the Refusians from The Ark (because they too were invisible and intangible), but it seems a much more sinister force is responsible for this jiggery-pokery.

The Bomb (The Ark Episode 4)

The one where civil war breaks out between the Monoids...

The Bomb really is very silly. It's jam-packed full of silly moments, silly dialogue and silly situations which undermine what is a generally solid story. Talking Monoids just do not work for me, they come across as supremely ridiculous. Take, for instance, the early scene where the Monoids consider the fate of Two. They all stand around waiting for their leader, One, to decide what their next move should be. They watch him pace up and down, thinking hard and posturing accordingly, until he announces his plan. Then we see two Monoids conspiring against One's leadership, but who are overheard by One's loyal deputy Three. One is not bothered by mutiny in the ranks however, and chuckles to himself about the futility of rebellion, reminding Three (and the viewer) of the explosive placed in the statue's head.

Referring to Monoids as One, Three, Four and Seventy-Seven is all so very silly (and confusing). There's one line where Three says to One: "There is still no contact from Two on Refusis, One", which wisely omits the planet's full name of Refusis II.

The Return (The Ark Episode 3)

The one where the Monoids have become humanity's overlords...

I find it really jarring when a writer allows a word or phrase particular to them to infect their characters. Writer Paul Erickson (for his wife, Lesley Scott, had next to nothing to do with the writing of this story, despite being credited) uses the somewhat clumsy phrase "kind of" three times in this one episode alone, and it smarts every time I hear them: "It looks like some kind of kitchen," observes Steven, followed swiftly by "looked like some kind of gun". Later, Dodo says: "It's a sort of a castle", and even the Monoids get in on the act when Monoid Three asks Monoid One: "You mean a bomb of some kind?" ARGH!

Pedantic writerly rant over. Now, what of the story proper? Well, the TARDIS has taken (indeed, Steven says it "decided" to take) its crew 700 years forward in time to the very end of the ark's journey to Refusis, but in a major twist it seems in that time the Monoids have staged a revolution against the Guardians, and are now their masters. Monoid One is the leader and waddles around with a haughty, self-important air, all camp sweeping gestures and violent tantrums. The Monoids also seem to have developed mouths, because they can now speak (thanks to some cheap-looking translation collars) and appear to fully enjoy solid fruits as well as liquids (in cut-glass goblets, naturally!).

The Plague (The Ark Episode 2)

The one where the Doctor cures the common cold...

Boy, do I love that stock Tristram Cary music from The Daleks! It pops up every now and then to paint an ominous mood of doom and catastrophe, and is used here by director Michael Imison at the top of the episode. It's so powerful and evocative, it instantly conjures an atmosphere for me. Donnnnng!

We find our heroes locked up by the Guardians after Zentos took umbrage that Dodo's germs were threatening the entire future of humanity, which is fair enough. Her sniffles equate to a catastrophic plague for the Guardians, who have no immunity to the virus because it was apparently eradicated in the time of the Primal Wars (ooh, what are they?). The Monoids have started dropping like flies, making an unearthly wail as they collapse, despite having no mouths. One even decides to expire outside the TARDIS, just to remind us exactly who is responsible for this disaster.

The Steel Sky (The Ark Episode 1)

The one where the TARDIS lands on an intergalactic space ark...

The most striking aspect of The Steel Sky is its sheer ambition and scale. Director Michael Imison brings an immense amount of size and space to the production by using some sweeping camera moves, as well as high shots looking down on the studio, making Barry Newbery's sets look cavernously big and impressive. The scenes set in the jungle are directed with real style, giving the impression of a real location out of doors. Imison had only been directing for three years, but he'd worked on a lot of programmes in that time, so brought to Doctor Who a palpable sense of experience and ambition. It's breath-taking.

I mean, there are real live animals for a start! Before now we've had the odd horse or monkey on the Doctor Who set, but here we have a monitor, a hornbill, a snake, a chameleon, a locust... and even an elephant! Newbery's jungle set is thick and dense, enhanced by Brian Hodgson's evocative soundscape and the odd well-placed wisp of mist. There are banana trees and even a body of water for the elephant to trample through. I'd go so far as to say this is the most impressive set of 1960s Doctor Who. The effort that's gone into it is obvious and it pays off in spades.

Bell of Doom (The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve Episode 4)

The one where Steven goes into a strop and storms off the TARDIS...

Steven Taylor thinks his friend the Doctor is dead. He is a space pilot from the far future lost in the folds of history, in a strange time and country where it seems everybody wants you dead because of what you believe in. The only thing I reckon Steven Taylor truly believes in is himself. He is a very self-assured, self-confident character, which probably explains how he accepts the death of the Doctor so quickly and turns his attentions to self-preservation. He and Anne search Preslin's shop looking for the Doctor's clothes, and with them, Steven hopes, the TARDIS key. Because as a self-assured space pilot from the far future, he seems sure he'll be able to fly the TARDIS and escape 16th century France on his own.

I used to think Steven Taylor was a cookie-cutter replacement for Ian Chesterton's Dan Dare heroism, simply a younger incarnation of the requisite masculinity and brawn that formed a key part of Sixties Doctor Who (Ian, Steven, Ben, Jamie). But as I've watched and listened to his episodes through I've come to realise that Steven Taylor was actually quite a selfish, mildly unlikeable man whose stubborn confidence in his own thoughts and opinions never allowed him to become as endearing as his predecessor or successors. Peter Purves performs the written character well, but also gives Steven a certain cocky demeanour which I find slightly irritating.

Priest of Death (The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve Episode 3)

The one where the Abbot of Amboise is murdered (or is it the Doctor?)...

I find it odd that Steven should care so much about the Sea Beggar. I mean, the audience must barely care at all, but Steven has no real reason to care either way if he lives or dies. By his own admission, he knows next to nothing about this period in French history, so how does he know that the Admiral de Coligny isn't supposed to be assassinated in the Rue des Fosse St Germain? To try and prevent the assassination might be the automatically humane response, but he is a time traveller - he needs to take a step back and consider the impact of dabbling with established events (it's not as if he hasn't got experience in such things - his run-ins with the meddling Monk should have taught him enough).

The truth is, Coligny didn't have a very pleasant final 48 hours on this earthly plain - the assassination attempt depicted in Priest of Death resulted in him losing a finger and shattering an elbow, and he was finally dispatched during the infamous St Bartholomew's Day (not Eve!) massacre by being run through with a sword, thrown out of a window into the street, and finally beheaded.

The Sea Beggar (The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve Episode 2)

The one where Steven falls out of favour with both the Catholics and the Protestants...

I've got to seriously question the Doctor Who production team for scheduling a story which features two characters played by William Hartnell, and then let their star go on holiday for a week right in the middle of it all! It doesn't make sense, and might well be indicative of the turmoil going on behind the scenes at this time. Hartnell and producer John Wiles were not getting on at all, and the star's health was beginning to fail him more and more. Maybe Hartnell deserved a week off after the exhausting slog that was The Daleks' Master Plan, but all the same - why make a story which would potentially feature more Hartnell rather than less?

In the event, of course, The Massacre features an awful lot less of William Hartnell than the average story, which is bizarre when you consider he's supposed to be playing both the Doctor and the Abbot of Amboise. The Doctor disappears midway through War of God, and the Abbot only appears in episode 2 in a pre-filmed reprise from episode 1. It's laughable, really... Some might say the production team were being edgy and taking risks. I just think it smacks of ineptitude.

War of God (The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve Episode 1)

The one where Steven gets mixed up in 16th century French politics...

As War of God begins, no mention is made of the previous adventure's legacy, of Sara's horrific death, the ravages of the Time Destructor, the devastation of Kembel, or the disintegration of the traitorous Galactic Alliance. The narrative is reset, with the Doctor and Steven stepping out of the TARDIS as if nothing ever happened. The Doctor seems his usual twinkly self, and Steven seems to be his usual slightly dissatisfied self (Steven is always moaning about wanting to move on or questioning why they're doing something - it can get quite tiresome at times).

As we learnt from The Reign of Terror, the Doctor loves French history, and as soon as he discovers they've landed in Paris in the year 1572, he's on the trail of "that strange brotherhood of apothecaries", in particular the scientist Charles Preslin, who it transpires is ahead of his time when it comes to germ theory. Now, I'm no student of French or scientific history, but a quick Google makes it clear to me that Preslin was not a real person, and germ theory wasn't actually proven until Louis Pasteur came along in the 19th century. It's true that a rudimentary understanding of infectious agents was put forward by the scholar Girolamo Fracastoro in 1546, but he was Italian, not French.

Destruction of Time (The Daleks' Master Plan Episode 12)

The one where the Time Destructor is activated, and takes its deadly toll...

And so here we are, at the end of a mammoth 12-part epic which ran for three months and was such an exhausting production experience that it led to the resignation of both new producer John Wiles and script editor Donald Tosh, and caused director Douglas Camfield to take a two-year break from Doctor Who. The climactic scenes of Destruction of Time are probably representative of what it was like making the show by this point!

But what a corker of a finale this is, one of the very best episodes of Doctor Who, and it's an immense shame we cannot see it. If we could, I suspect it'd go down as an all time classic. At the start of the episode we have a cracking performance from Kevin Stoney as Mavic Chen begins to unravel, and his megalomania mutates into madness. Stoney sounds unhinged, and takes the character to new heights of melodrama and self-aggrandisement. You can tell his mind's gone when he starts saying "I, Mavic Chen!" all the time.

The Abandoned Planet (The Daleks' Master Plan Episode 11)

The one where the Doctor goes completely AWOL...

Mavic Chen proudly proclaims to the Dalek Supreme that the only reason they have the precious taranium core back is because of his "guile and cunning". He's certainly tooting his own trumpet there, but to be honest, the only reason Chen has the core at all is because of the Monk. He was the one who (at least pretended to) bring Steven and Sara to the Daleks as hostages so that the Doctor would have to exchange the core for his friends. Mavic Chen always did strike me as someone who'd steal someone else's thunder, however.

The Abandoned Planet is another of the missing episodes from this three-month epic, which is a crying shame because it features an awful lot of alien delegate action. The only footage we have of them are those wonderfully strange scenes in Day of Armageddon, but they do feature in other episodes too, most of all this one. Episode 11 has bucketloads of Celation, the floaty bobbly skinheaded alien we see in episode 2, here played by a different actor (Terence Woodfield, who'd later appear in human form in The Ark).

Escape Switch (The Daleks' Master Plan Episode 10)

The one where the Doctor hands the taranium core back to the Daleks...

Hooray, it's Doctor Who's 100th episode already! And what better way to mark this milestone than with the Doctor facing off against his greatest foes in a showdown in Ancient Egypt? Thankfully, William Hartnell has his health (and mojo) back after a couple of weeks croaking his way through proceedings. The Christmas break must have done him good, but as Escape Switch was recorded on New Year's Eve 1965, I'm guessing the cast enjoyed a few celebratory drinks afterwards!

We start by discovering that the mummified hand emerging from the sarcophagus in last week's cliffhanger actually belongs to the Monk, who's been wrapped up in bandages by a mischievous Doctor and bundled into a coffin! The bandages aren't all that tightly wrapped, to be honest, so it's hard to see why the Monk feels so debilitated by his predicament, but it's a rather amusing resolution all the same. We'll have to wait a little longer for Doctor Who's first mummy, obviously (well, nine years anyway).