Welcome to the Time Space Visualiser reviews!

Welcome to my episode-by-episode reviews of Doctor Who's classic series, from 1963 to 1989. This project took a whopping 5 years and 4 months, from start to finish, and was a rollercoaster ride. I enjoyed it. But no, I'm not moving on to the new series (in case you're wondering!).

If you're looking for a particular story or episode, you can use the Search tool on the right, the A-Z list in the right-hand column further down, or click 'Read More' below for links to individual Doctors.

And thank you - so much - for reading. I hope you enjoy!

~ Steve, July 2022

Doctor Who Decades: The 1980s

Every time Doctor Who reaches the end of a decade, it seems to be an automatic point of change and renewal for the series. However, in this case there was no change or renewal, just a full-stop. Here's the third in a trilogy of blogs looking back over a decade of Doctor Who.

The 1980s

I reached the end of the 1970s in December 2020, when the world was in the thick of the COVID-19 pandemic. In the UK we were initially under the impression we'd be able to spend Christmas with our families, but as the infections worsened, this leeway was reduced to just one day. It was a sad and frustrating time in world history, but if everything else was falling apart around me, there was one shaft of light that kept me going through it all - Doctor Who!

Here I am, 18 months later, and I've reached the end of the 1980s, and the end of Classic Who. It didn't take me as long to review the 1980s because I simply had more time to do it in, although family issues did interfere quite stressfully along the way. There were times - notably towards the end of the Davison era - when I considered packing it all in. My blog would have ended with part 4 of Planet of Fire, and its 'unfinishedness' would frustrate millions of readers for generations to come. Well, a couple perhaps. For minutes!

Survival Part Three

The one where it all ends...

While being the end of an era, Survival part 3 is also something of a transitionary episode. As well as neatly reflecting elements from both parts 1 and 2, and how they dangerously merge together, it also serves as a pathway to the future. When Doctor Who began in 1963, it was set in contemporary London. When the classic series finished in 1989, it was also set in contemporary London. Perfect symmetry. And when the series returned in 2005, where was it set? Yes that's right, in contemporary London. Shoreditch, Perivale and Kennington (the probable location of Rose's Powell Estate) are bound together across the decades by the creative forces behind three different iterations of Doctor Who. The same, but different. London would seem to be the Doctor's "home".

At the start of the episode we see Ace lose her fight to hold on to herself, and run off with her new "sister", Karra the Cheetah person. I'm not crystal clear on why Ace and Karra share this bond, unless it's something to do with Karra hypnotising or bewitching Ace when she helps her at the waterside. It's obvious that Karra sees something in Ace which is different to any other Earth girl brought as prey to the planet. Later on we see the feline Karra revert to her original human self, suggesting that maybe, just perhaps, Karra had the hots for Ace, and her latent sexuality was brought to the fore. "I'm your sister. You're like me. You will be..." Karra tells Ace in one scene.

Survival Part Two

The one where Ace is bewitched by an alien planet...

It's great how the white flash at the end of the opening credits merges perfectly into the effect of the Doctor and Paterson being transported to the Cheetah planet. I'm glad director Alan Wareing thought to do that, because if he hadn't, the lost potential would have bugged me until my dying day!

The Doctor and his narrow-minded new pal are herded towards a tent, the Cheetah people constantly growling and snarling along the way. As much as I quite admire the Cheetah costumes and make-up, dubbing sound effects of real-life big cats on top of these cuddly creatures just does not work, and only accentuates the fact they are not big, vicious, carnivorous monsters, just people in leopard-print suits!

Survival Part One

The one where Ace goes back to Perivale to see her mates...

This is it. The final story of the classic series run, ironically yet appropriately entitled Survival. Nobody knew it when they made it, but they certainly knew there would be no Season 27 by the time Survival was broadcast. Blame Philip Segal, because if he hadn't made that fateful telephone call to the BBC on July 12th, 1989, things might have carried on as normal, and I'd be reviewing Ice Time, Earth Aid, Crime of the Century and Illegal Alien too.

But it didn't pan out that way, and instead this surreal suburban thriller is how classic Doctor Who bowed out. Fittingly, it left by telling a story set in contemporary London, just as it began 26 years before. From Shoreditch to Perivale, via Skaro, Peladon and Gallifrey!

The Curse of Fenric Part Four

The one where Ace learns who the baby really is...

What I'm getting from this critical review of the story - after decades of watching it thinking I'm understanding it all - is that the Doctor hasn't necessarily fought "Fenric" before. Fenric is just Millington's interpretation of evil, and as the Doctor says in part 3, "evil has no name". It seems to me that evil has simply chosen to manifest itself in this way on this particular occasion, using Norse mythology as an amusing cover, but the adversary the Doctor played chess with in the shadow dimensions, and trapped there for 17 centuries, was not Fenric as such. It was evil. The Doctor played chess with evil.

He says elsewhere in this episode, as he tries to remember where the pieces were left on the chess board, that it took place "so long ago", suggesting it wasn't his seventh self which did all this. It's an interesting take on things, and I'm not convinced it was meant this way by writer Ian Briggs, but I quite like the theory that Fenric isn't the Doctor's ancient enemy. Pure evil is his enemy, and this time around it's called Fenric.

The Curse of Fenric Part Three

The one where evil takes a body...

Wow, when Perkins gets an order, he certainly carries it out to the very best of his abilities, doesn't he? And with so much gusto! Charged with the task of disabling all of the radio transmitters on the base, he sets about chopping them up with an axe, sparks flying everywhere! Millington rushes in, hoping to find that Perkins isn't as loyal as he fears, but too late - the hardware's in bits. "Splendid work, Perkins, splendid work!" jeers the Doctor. "Now put them back together again." And just look at the sweet little smile from Ace behind him when he says that. That girl really loves that man (for now).

There are so many little moments like this in the relationship between the Doctor and Ace / Sylvester McCoy and Sophie Aldred. The chemistry between them is like lightning in a bottle, and beyond the narrative development of the relationship and characters, it can be found in the organic performance between the two, the unscripted looks and gestures which were also present between Tom Baker and Elisabeth Sladen. That naturalness, that ease between them, is palpable. It happens again when Ace blows up the brick wall with her nitro-9, and as they're all escaping, the Doctor stops Ace and says: "I'll talk to you later", and Aldred responds with a big goofy grin. It's a timeless, organic working relationship and we are so lucky to have witnessed it.

The Curse of Fenric Part Two

The one where the chains of Fenric shatter...

A fine example of the hotch-potch way The Curse of Fenric is edited/ sequenced is the fact Dr Judson's recital of the Wainwright translation bridges two episodes. He starts reading it toward the end of part 1 but doesn't get to finish until part 2, making it seem like he's been reading it all week! Placing the entire recital in one or the other episode, and not both, would have been far better.

Part 2 is far more satisfying than part 1, but I'm still left with a glut of unanswered questions. Why does a whole new set of Viking inscriptions burn into existence when Judson reads the translations? It looks good, but why does it happen? Why does the corpse of the dead Russian beneath the water come back to life? Again, it looks good, but why does it happen? What becomes of him? Does he turn into a Haemovore?

The Curse of Fenric Part One

The one where the Russians invade wartime Northumbria...

The TARDIS materialises in the grounds of a top secret naval camp in Northumbria in 1943. The Doctor and Ace are here to see Dr Judson, a mathematician charged with the task of cracking the German cyphers in World War Two. The Doctor's duffel coat makes him look a bit like Paddington Bear, while Ace's period outfit makes a refreshing change from her usual badge-scattered bomber jacket (although she still has that).

We're straight into the story, no messing about, as the Doctor and Ace waltz into the base as if they were expected all along. The Doctor even goes so far as to fake his own credentials, right in front of the ratty Dr Judson and his nurse, Crane. It's a very brief letter, with forged signatures from Prime Minister Winston Churchill and MI6 Chief Stewart Menzies (good attention to detail there by production designer David Laskey). The Doctor's gall in forging this letter before presenting it to Captain Bates with the ink still wet is highly amusing, including when Bates knocks on the door and the Doctor shouts: "Come in!" The Doctor is instantly in charge.

Ghost Light Part Three

The one where the Doctor defeats Light with Darwinism...

Many people say they don't understand Ghost Light. I get why they say it, because it's not an easy watch, but the basics of what the story's about are present in the transmitted story, albeit tricky to catch. Basic explanations are given in the opening dialogue of part 3, when Light emerges and the Doctor explains who's who (as does Ace, who seems remarkably well informed).

"It's called Light," the Doctor tells Inspector Mackenzie. "It's come to survey life here... And while it slept, the survey got out of control." It's all a big experiment to catalogue life on Earth. Josiah is the survey, Control is, well... the control, and Light is an intergalactic David Attenborough. Light came to Earth in the stone spaceship, and while it slept, the survey and control got out of hand. Nimrod, a specimen of the Neanderthal race taken from pre-history, was released from his quarantine cubicle by Josiah as he climbed the evolutionary ladder and craved servants.

Ghost Light Part Two

The one where the Doctor finds a policeman in the drawer...

It's just the latest in a string of weird and wacky ideas and images in this story: the Doctor and Gwendoline coming across a Victorian sleeping policeman in the bottom drawer of Josiah's moth collection. "It's from Java," Gwendoline bewilderingly states. It seems Java is a simile for being killed, or perhaps just "preserved", as Gwendoline adds that the Reverend Matthews will be sent to Java soon, where he might meet her father.

"Your father, is he there?" enquires the Doctor. Gwendoline's reply always gives me goosebumps, thanks to the slightly unhinged way Katharine Schlesinger delivers the line, and the way the scene is edited. "Uncle Josiah sent him there," she says, "after he saw what was in the cellar." Cut to the cellar! Such an effective cut, sadly spoiled in the otherwise superior blu-ray workprint version, which adds a line on the end before cutting.

Ghost Light Part One

The one where the Doctor takes Ace into her worst nightmare...

Wish me luck with this one, guys. I'll need it. Right, I'm going in...

A dark and spooky Victorian house. Gothic, funereal organ music. A hatchet-faced housekeeper. And something nasty locked up in the cellar. This is the stuff that nightmarish dreams are made of, and the sort of thing the BBC always does so well. If it involves a period setting, the BBC usually come up trumps. And a period Victorian setting never fails to serve Doctor Who well. The two seem to go together like fish fingers and custard!

Battlefield Part Four

The one where the Destroyer is freed...

So Morgaine gives Ace and Shou Yuing over to the Destroyer to become his handmaidens in Hell, only for the Destroyer to then disappear for five minutes. Morgaine cannot cross the chalk circle with her magic alone, but the Destroyer claims he can if she releases him from his silver chains. "It burns!" says the blue meanie, which is a fantastically realistic design by Stephen Mansfield and Sue Moore, complete with huge Krull-like horns, a greasy black mane and a warty complexion. Interestingly, the original design for the Destroyer was by Mike Tucker, but he was given visual effects duties on The Curse of Fenric at the last moment, and Mansfield and Moore stepped in. Tucker's original design for the Destroyer eventually became the Unspeakable One in the 1992 Red Dwarf episode Terrorform. What we got was better.

Marek Anton gives the Destroyer such animation too, despite the character being quite static. The eyes dart about, the mouth snarls and gnashes, and Anton has the size, bulk and physique to make the creature truly daunting. Even the voice is scary.

Battlefield Part Three

The one where Morgaine summons the Destroyer...

Finally, four minutes into part 3, the Brigadier and the Doctor are reunited. It's taken the old soldier more than half the story to arrive at where the action is, making it a most leisurely comeback. But it's nice to have the Brig meet yet another incarnation of his old friend ("Who else would it be?"), and rather fitting that he saves the day with a squash of his boot - the first thing we ever saw of Lethbridge-Stewart way back in The Web of Fear was his boots.

Ace escapes through an airlock to the surface of Lake Vortigern, where she rises from the water holding Excalibur aloft, like the Lady of the Lake. Warmsley notes that the site of the archaeological dig was supposedly where Mordred faced Arthur in the mythology, and where Bedivere threw Excalibur into the lake. Writer Ben Aaronovitch is toying with the various versions of Arthurian legend here, as Arthur and Mordred apparently faced each other at Camlann, which according to dialogue elsewhere in this episode has already happened. In the legends, Mordred dies at Camlann (and sometimes Arthur too), but seeing as he's alive and well here, the events of the alternative dimension must differ.

Battlefield Part Two

The one where the Doctor finds a spaceship at the bottom of the lake...

The space knight threatening to kill everybody turns out to be called Mordred, and when he lifts his visor he's revealed to be just as ruggedly handsome as his arch-enemy, blond Ancelyn. It seems Ancelyn is general of Arthur's army, while Mordred is the son of Arthur's enemy, Morgaine. I love how Ben Aaronovitch is tinkering with Arthurian legend, just as Sir Thomas Malory tinkered with the works of Nennius and Geoffrey of Monmouth. There is no definitive version of the mythology, so why not play with it a bit more? I was so inspired by all of this as a 13-year-old that I went to my local library to research the legends of King Arthur (when we had books instead of Google), demonstrating how, even 26 years on, Doctor Who was still educating as well as entertaining.

Mordred says that 12 centuries ago, Morgaine bound the Doctor (ie Merlin) and sealed him in ice caves for all eternity, but the Doctor - at least, the Doctor in his seventh body - knows nothing of this. He blags his way through the conversation, pretending he's Merlin and that he wields "mighty arts", but once Mordred and his tin men have gone, he admits he has no idea who any of them are. For once, the Doctor is on the back foot, and others know more than he does.

Battlefield Part One

The one where the Doctor is mistaken for Merlin...

Here it is, the beginning of the end. The first of four stories in Season 26, bringing to an end Doctor Who's classic series run. Doctor Who had clawed its way back from the doldrums with the critical and creative successes of Season 25, and the change of Doctor in 1987 gave the show the fresh start it needed after the opprobrium associated with Colin Baker's tenure (even if Season 24 wasn't of the highest quality). As the Seventh Doctor entered his third year, confidence must have been at a relative high, with the production team sure of its intent and aims for the series. Last year ratings were markedly up, so what could possibly go wrong?

Season 26 opens with the dullest, most uninspiring and underwhelming scene in the history of season openers. It starts in a garden centre, and the first person we see is a tweedy old duffer in a trilby carrying a couple of shrubs. Battlefield stumbles at the very first hurdle. No wonder this episode was watched by just 3.1m people - less than half the figure for The Greatest Show in the Galaxy part 4 (6.6m). In truth, we know it was lack of promotion and harsh scheduling that did for Season 26, but the production team was doing itself no favours by starting with such a sedentary opening.

The Greatest Show in the Galaxy Part Four

The one where the Doctor confronts the Gods of Ragnarok...

This final part of both the story and the season aired in January 1989, making it the first of a bumper 15 episodes of Doctor Who broadcast that year. It was watched by a whopping 6.6m people, the highest figure for the McCoy era, and the highest rating since Season 22. Doctor Who was on a role in its silver anniversary year. Season 25 had topped 6m viewers twice, surely a sign that more people were watching, more people were enjoying and more people wanted more? It all felt so encouraging, only for the BBC to renew the show one final time, but decide to bury it for good...

Back to the Psychic Circus, and that gloriously scary cliffhanger in which the Doctor's being menaced by a wolverine Mags. It's a testament to the work of make-up designer Denise Baron that Mags' werewolf look is so convincing, but the make-up has been spot-on throughout the story, particularly for Ian Reddington's Joker-esque Chief Clown. Mags is her masterpiece though (her work on The Curse of Fenric would be great, but not better than this).

The Greatest Show in the Galaxy Part Three

The one where the Doctor discovers Mags' secret...

The Greatest Show in the Galaxy was transmitted through the festive season, the first time Doctor Who had done this since 1980's The Horns of Nimon - and the last until 2005's The Christmas Invasion. It feels somehow fitting that a story set in a circus, a world of entertainment, should have been shown at Christmastime. Part 2 of the serial was shown straight after a special programme called Terry Wogan in Pantoland, in which the chat show host encountered various fairytale scenarios performed by the likes of Barbara Windsor, Little and Large, Christopher Biggins and Wilfred Mott himself, Bernard Cribbins!

Part 3 was pushed back slightly to 7.40pm due to Wogan's very special interview with Hollywood legend James Stewart, making it one of the latest shown classic series episodes. There are scenes throughout the episode in which the family of three spectators express how bored they are ("Something has to happen soon"), but this third episode is far from dull, exploring the background to the Psychic Circus and what happened when it arrived on Segonax.

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.

Delta and the Bannermen Part Three

The one where the Doctor defeats the Bannermen using honey and an amp...

Charmless Billy is so determined to spend the rest of his life with Delta and her green daughter that he hits upon the idea of turning himself half-Chimeron by consuming the baby food. He steals some of the syringes from Delta's handbag and secretly starts sucking the alien green goo into his mouth, hoping it will make him more compatible when he comes to breed with Delta.

Billy's obsession with having a family with the insipid Delta is totally unconvincing, partly because it comes out of nowhere, and partly because neither David Kinder or Belinda Mayne have the slightest chemistry together. I don't know what's so terrible about Billy's life as a handsome motorcycling mechanic in rock 'n' roll Wales, but he seems desperate to escape it, to the point of dabbling with unknown alien foodstuffs. His aim is to help save the Chimeron race by breeding with Delta, but it's too late for that. Surely Billy can't turn 100% Chimeron, so the best that can happen is that he and Delta produce a child that is only part-Chimeron. The purity of the Chimeron race is long gone (with the death of Chima in part 1).

Delta and the Bannermen Part Two

The one where the Bannermen finally arrive...

Outside of the objective critique of this review blog, Delta and the Bannermen is in my top ten - perhaps even top five - favourite Doctor Who stories of all time. To some, perhaps even many, that is anathema, incomprehensible, abhorrent. And I see that, I get that absolutely, because it's not one of the finest slices of Doctor Who ever. It's camp and silly and a tiny bit amateurish, but what's wrong with that once in a while? Classic Doctor Who was never going to win any BAFTAs*, it was just there to entertain and amuse, and isn't that what Delta and the Bannermen does?

I think something as light-hearted and camp as Delta and the Bannermen works better contextually, following years of the grim, continuity-laden muddle Eric Saward drummed up. Sure, if you're going to dip into Delta and the Bannermen straight after watching Inferno, Genesis of the Daleks and The Caves of Androzani, of course it's going to pale in comparison, but I maintain that within context, it's a breath of welcome fresh air. And I'll die on that hill.

Delta and the Bannermen Part One

The one where the Doctor wins a holiday to Disneyland in 1959...

The story gets off to an explosive, action-packed start with a battle in a quarry on an alien planet, where a beautiful princess and her froggy friend are fighting a bunch of black-clad baddies called Bannermen. The episode really does start full-throttle, with a mad dash across a rocky landscape as the princess decides to steal her enemy Gavrok's ship. Sadly, her faithful green friend Chima is shot by Gavrok, but he manages to shoot back at his assailant before he dies proper, allowing his princess to escape.

The model work and special effects in this episode are really impressive, whether it's the Bannerman ship taking off, the moon in the alien sky, the US satellite in orbit, or the TARDIS rescuing the Nostalgia Trips space bus. It might not stand up to today's CGI wizardry, but for the BBC in 1987, it's pretty good (the effects came on in leaps and bounds in the show's final four years).

Paradise Towers Part Four

The one where Kroagnon possesses the body of the Chief Caretaker...

The mind of Kroagnon, which has been trapped in the basement all this time in the form of a pair of glowing neon eyes, transfers into the body of the Chief Caretaker by way of corpo-electroscopy. This is a cue for Richard Briers to turn in one of the worst - if not the worst - performances of his long, distinguished and admirable career as he decides to opt for silly rather than scary.

Physically, he plays Kroagnon quite accurately, as a man who hasn't been inside a living body for a very long time, and has to learn to move and walk and talk afresh. He looks like the living dead, struggling with his motor skills. However, it's the stupid voice he uses which spoils everything, some weird attempt at a Germanic accent delivered with a rumbling drawl, his glassy eyes rolling all the while. It's truly embarrassing to watch, both for the viewer and for Briers. The BAFTA-nominee decided to go over the top because that was the best way to portray a megalomaniac, he believed. He was wrong, because his performance utterly ruins the atmosphere of the story, and to any casual viewer flicking through the channels, it must have seemed like they were tuning into some pre-school drama on CBBC.

Paradise Towers Part Three

The one where two flesh-eating grannies are dragged into the waste disposal...

Just that one sentence above makes it sound like Paradise Towers is peak Season 22 material, and the fact Tabby and Tilda are cannibals and cook human flesh on their gas stove is the sort of thing that I found a bit strong in The Two Doctors. But it feels much more light-hearted here, more pantomime-esque, even though it's being treated quite seriously. It's difficult to make something seem horrific with two old grannies dressed in lavender and pearls.

There's a dark comedy to it all though. It's in the way Tabby enthusiastically grinds pepper into her pot, in Tilda's "see if you can spot the basil!", and the comical strangulated face Elizabeth Spriggs pulls as she's dragged into the waste disposal. Seeing what's happened to her friend, Tilda's mood darkens and she sets about the screaming Mel with a (very floppy) carving knife. Luckily, Pex smashes through the door again to come to the rescue, even if he doesn't realise there's a real life emergency taking place!

Paradise Towers Part Two

The one where Mel is attacked by flesh-eating pensioners with toasting forks...

At the start of the episode we are reminded what Paradise Towers looks like on the outside: a gleaming glassy edifice and a far cry from the dingy interiors we're witnessing. It should have been made to look rundown on the outside as well as the inside, perhaps with smashed windows or wallscrawl. It makes me wonder what is on the outside though, and why everyone stays indoors. Could it be the mysterious war the in-betweens went off to wage?

Now paired with Pex, Mel wanders around the corridors of Paradise Towers with very little direction. She's trying to find the swimming pool on the roof, where she agreed she'd meet the Doctor if they got split up, but struggles to make progress. Along the way she witnesses Pex vandalise a lamp, and meets the Blue Kangs, who fill her in on exactly why Pex seems to be the only in-between around.

Paradise Towers Part One

The one where the Doctor and Mel visit a paradise resort that has seen better days...

The story begins with what would be a cracking cold open (aka pre-titles sequence), but which is spoilt in the edit. This is a common failing of the McCoy era, with so many episodes chopped up into little scenes to make it seem pacier, but actually it interrupts the flow of a sequence or the developing atmosphere. Here we have a terrified young girl running away from what I presume is a gang of tearaways in some dystopian future, and there's a telling clue as to what's going on in the form of the graffiti. This girl is eventually murdered by an unseen force, but the mood is spoiled by shoving a light-hearted and brightly lit TARDIS scene in the middle.

These TARDIS scenes - which will become ever rarer in the McCoy era - are rather lovely though, as they show the Doctor and Mel in a revealing light: she is excited about visiting a paradise resort and languishing in the swimming pool, he is more keen on adventure and exploration. Season 24 is determined to take Doctor Who back to basics. "Are you ready?" the Doctor asks his beaming friend. "Ready! I can't wait!" If that's not the centrepiece of a 21st century-style season trailer, I don't know what is.

Time and the Rani Part Four

The one where the Rani cracks the secret of Loyhargil...

OMG Mel, please stop screaming! Mel has always been a vocal companion (as proven by that cliffhanger to The Trial of a Time Lord part 9), but Bonnie Langford goes all-out here, screaming at everything she claps eyes on, from Urak to the Rani and even the sight of the Doctor in the cubicle. I wouldn't mind so much if it wasn't for the fact Langford has such a piercing scream, it goes right through me (much like Deborah Watling's did at times!).

Amusingly, trying to feed the Doctor's knowledge to the Rani's giant pink brain results in the big veiny blob developing "multiple schizophrenia", spouting awful jokes and this incarnation's (short-lived) love of malapropisms. The Rani is forced to switch off the process, before the revived Doctor shoves her in his cubicle and locks her in. Kate O'Mara tries her best to act imprisoned, but we can all see it's a fairly flimsy sheet of Perspex which she could quite easily break through if she wanted.

Time and the Rani Part Three

The one where the Rani releases a swarm of killer insects...

There may be some pretty ripe dialogue in this story, typical of Pip and Jane Baker's wordy work, but the cast seems to cope with it amiably. It might not be the most sayable dialogue ever written, but the actors say it with conviction, which is what just about gets it by. There's a great scene between the Doctor and Beyus, after the latter rescues the former from the Tetrap lair, which is loaded with awkward lines, but the essence of them is character-forming, especially for Sylvester McCoy.

The Doctor is clearly angered by the Rani's scheme to pluck geniuses out of time to place them in some kind of menagerie (or "abysmal parade"). His outrage at what the Rani's up to tells us that this is the same Doctor who has railed against injustice and inhumanity since we first got to know him in 1963. He's also frustrated that he can't find out what's behind the Rani's big door, and confused by Beyus's willingness to obey the Rani. But Beyus sends him on a mission to discover why he is complicit, at the Centre of Leisure/ Indolence.

Time and the Rani Part Two

The one where the Doctor and Mel are reunited...

As well as everything else that changed with part 1, there's also the fact Doctor Who was now broadcast on Monday nights at the surprisingly late time of 7.35pm, after Terry Wogan's chat show and before sitcom Hi-De-Hi!. The move to a weekday evening slot harked back to the Davison years, when episodes were shown at around 7pm, but this even later slot showed the BBC was thinking about Doctor Who in a different way. As a matter of fact they were thinking about Doctor Who as something of an embarrassment, to be tucked away in the schedules, hidden in plain sight in primetime. This scheduling was the beginning of the end sadly...

On Lakertya, Mel is screaming her lungs out inside a bubble trap which is bouncing its way across the rocky landscape, before settling on the surface of a lake, where it runs aground. The interaction between special effect and location is so impressive, and you really believe it's there. I could do with a bit (lot) less squawking from Bonnie Langford, but at least Ikona voices my feelings on that score.

Time and the Rani Part One

The one where the Rani impersonates Mel...

Season 24 bursts onto the screen like a jack-in-a-box, eager to get going and unrelenting in its determination to entertain. The pre-credits sequence is a riot of busy CGI which would have been mightily impressive at the time, but has sadly dated since. Still, it's a statement of intent: Doctor Who is back (again!), and this time means business. The CG TARDIS being buffeted through space might not be as awesome as the opening model shot of The Trial of a Time Lord, but it shows that Doctor Who is using the latest technology it can afford to keep up with the Joneses (or at least try to). 

Inside the TARDIS the Doctor and Mel lie unconscious on the floor (love the continuity of the exercise bike in the background), and as the TARDIS is brought down onto a barren planet in a rainbow beam of LGBTQ+ splendour, a weird-looking alien looks on, framed by a computer-enhanced pink sky. These opening moments are a real assault on the eyes - it's brash, brazen and bursting with courage. It's the most exciting, and excitable, season opening yet.

The Trial of a Time Lord Part Fourteen

The one where the Doctor tries to prevent the catharsis of spurious morality...

So here we are, the grand finale of both the story and the season. The Trial Inquiry of a Time Lord was the first time Doctor Who tried making an entire series all one story (although it's actually four stories), but it wouldn't be the last. The problem with trying to have one continuing story is that you have to keep it varied, which is why Season 23 was made up of disparate parts, and Series 13's Flux was such a jumbled menagerie of ideas. Doctor Who has yet to prove it can do one series-long narrative story well - you know, like most other television series do! - but I admire the ambition.

Before delving into the episode, I'd like to praise Dominic Glynn's version of the theme one last time. It's not my favourite - that's been and gone - but I can't help liking the ethereal mystery conjured by the Season 23 theme. I like its synthy beat, which puts me in mind of certain 1980s songs like Limahl's Never-Ending Story, Bucks Fizz's The Land of Make Believe, and Oakey and Moroder's Together in Electric Dreams. In fact, I think that's the key to why I like it so much: it sounds like something Giorgio Moroder might have produced.

The Trial of a Time Lord Part Thirteen

The one where the Valeyard turns out to be the Doctor...

The shit hits the fan in this episode. Big time. With all of the evidence dealt with, it's time for conclusions to be drawn, but before anybody can sum up, there are a few twists in the tale first. There's the strange fact that the Matrix has a Keeper who walks around with Rassilon's Key buttoned to his robes 24/7. This Time Lord, played by James Bree (wasted in the role), reckons it is impossible to meddle with the Matrix, and the only way to get into it is using his trusty key. As the Doctor points out, it is possible to copy keys, which is exactly what THE MASTER did.

I'm sorry, the what-who?! Yes, the Master, played with unusual insouciance by Anthony Ainley, looking down on the courtroom from his day-glow disco within the Matrix. It's a fabulous twist to have the Master rock up this late in the story, but it's rather disappointing that he doesn't really do anything. He just sits there letting out his little amuse-bouche secrets bit by bit, a smug smile on his face, but his presence doesn't add the elevated danger that it should. It's almost like a cosy reunion.

The Trial of a Time Lord Part Twelve

The one where the Doctor is accused of genocide...

This is the point at which The Trial of a Time Lord equals The Daleks' Master Plan for length. The Hartnell epic called it quits at 12 episodes, but even if you include that elusive prelude Mission to the Unknown, Season 23 trumps it by one episode. The difference between the two epics is that the earlier is one rambling story, while the later is three separate stories linked by a fourth overarching theme. I seem to recall I thought The Daleks' Master Plan began to sag toward the end, whereas part 12 of The Trial of a Time Lord goes at quite a lick.

As marsh gas spews from the Vervoids and fills the bridge with a toxic atmosphere, I find myself asking: Why? I'm not very clear on why the Vervoids suddenly begin farting methane derivative from their mouths. I decided it was something to do with the increasing proximity of the Hyperion III to the Black Hole, which was somehow messing with the Vervoids' organic make-up, but when I read the synopsis on TARDIS Wiki afterwards, it seems the Vervoids are doing it on purpose, as a means of attack. Once they learn Bruchner's plan for total destruction of their species, they take to emitting marsh gas to kill the humans. Not quite as threatening as Mr Oak and Mr Quill, but I get the idea. I just don't think it comes across very well on screen.

The Trial of a Time Lord Part Eleven

The one where killer plant monsters go on the rampage...

"Stop her! Stop Lasky!" the mutated woman in the incubation case tells the Doctor. It transpires this is not some random mutant, but Doland's lab assistant, Ruth Baxter, who was infected during a "particularly delicate cross-fertilisation". Pollen got into a cut on Ruth's thumb, and she ended up mutating into this half-plant hybrid. Giving this character a name, and allowing us to see actor Barbara Ward's youthful face, makes this plot twist more effective than if it was just an extra in make-up. But then, the Colin Baker era is quite good at "humanising" mutants, whether they be Professor Stengos, the Necrosian mutant, or the Lukoser. Giving the product of terrible scientific experimentation a face, a name and a character makes what's happened to them all the more horrific.

And with every piece of new information gleaned, the Doctor and Mel, like an intergalactic Tommy and Tuppence, continue to investigate the strange goings-on aboard the Hyperion III. The Agatha Christie theme really works, with Mel craftily lingering in corridors so that she can nip into Mr Kimber's cabin to snoop about, while the Doctor consults with the Commodore.

The Trial of a Time Lord Part Ten

The one where something nasty breaks out of the hydroponics centre...

It's funny, but the reprise of part 9's stunning cliffhanger doesn't seem to work as well without the theme music flooding in. Here, it seems to end abruptly when Mel runs away, but we do get some added jeopardy when we see that something nasty has broken out of the cocoons. Something deadly, which looms over the guard and kills him! Director Chris Clough cleverly uses the creature's point of view, building tension and mystery, and by the end of the episode, we've still only glimpsed the odd leafy hand, or a murky visage peering through a grille. There's something nasty in the ventilation shaft!

In the courtroom, the Doctor seems oddly happy to press on, despite the fact he claims his evidence has been tampered with. "When I viewed the Matrix earlier, this isn't what happened," he insists. When asked if he wants to reconsider the evidence, the Doctor somewhat foolishly decides to carry on with it, despite his belief that it's been manipulated to make him look bad. On the one hand I'm fine with that because this is a cracking good yarn, but if the Doctor thinks this is merely incriminating him more, shouldn't he demand some kind of pause to proceedings?

The Trial of a Time Lord Part Nine

The one where the Doctor has a new companion we've never met...

Fittingly, there's a solemn beginning to this episode following the events of the previous, in which the Doctor's long-time companion Peri was killed. I love how the theme music continues to run over the footage of the mourning Doctor re-entering the courtroom, and as he sits down the music ends. Colin Baker thankfully grasps the right tone in these early scenes, reflecting the horror of what has happened, both for the Doctor and the audience. To have an angry Doctor blustering and shouting across the courtroom would have been disrespectful and inappropriate.

The Doctor is clearly disturbed by Peri's death, occasionally distracted by his thoughts. There's a nicely judged moment when the Inquisitor asks if he's had enough time to overcome the distress of his bereavement, and Baker leaves a brief pause, before replying: "I doubt that there will ever be sufficient time for that." This is a Doctor tripped up by his own hubris (at last!), who is coming to terms with the fact that his friend through so many adventures is gone. Dead. And according to the prosecutor's statements, it's all the Doctor's fault. Our hero is in a dark place right now.