The Masque of Mandragora Part Four

The one where Sarah attends a 15th century Italian knees-up...

And so Count Federico is dead. Very dead. And attentions turn to the next best villain of the story, Hieronymous himself, now possessed by the power of the mighty Mandragora Helix. It is stated that the god Demnos is a mere servant of Mandragora (such blasphemy goes unchallenged by the brethren), and the cowled brothers begin to circle the altar in a slightly shabbier version of Geraldine Stephenson's choreography for the Sisterhood of Karn in The Brain of Morbius.

Hieronymous says that Mandragora will "swallow the moon" (let's hope it has a taste for eggs), which automatically tells us that a lunar eclipse is on the horizon. Now, we've already established that there's no date stated within the story itself for when all this takes place, but Philip Hinchcliffe's novelisation claims it to be 1492. Records reveal that there were three lunar eclipses in 1492, but none of them were at the Doctor's calculated time of 21:43:08. The closest lunar eclipse to that time within the 15th century was at 21:43:56 on December 18th, 1488 (another close-but-no-cigar eclipse took place at 21:44:03 on June 11th, 1481), so we're still no closer to learning when this story is set. As far as the information given in the actual televised scripts written by Louis Marks goes, it's most likely to be 1488, providing the Doctor got his sums very slightly wrong by a few seconds.

The Masque of Mandragora Part Three

The one where a hypnotised Sarah tries to kill the Doctor...

It's amazing just how physical the Doctor has got in the last few stories. It must be influenced by the climate in British television at the time, which was heavy with police procedurals like The Sweeney, and action-packed adventure series imported from America. The Doctor is particularly active in this story, leaping on horses, assaulting guards, and engaging in swordplay with Federico's men. In fact, the Doctor appears to revel in the idea of a good honest fight these days.

Despite bursts of action such as the fight between Giuliano and the Doctor, and Federico's men and the brethren, this story is, for the most part, very talky, and has the look and feel of a Shakespearean serial. I imagine kids back in 1976 found this story a little underwhelming, although you can't knock how fabulous it looks thanks to a solid production team: director Rodney Bennett, designer Barry Newbery, costume designer James Acheson and lighting designer Dennis Channon.

The Masque of Mandragora Part Two

The one where the Mandragora Helix takes control of an ancient cult...

Director Rodney Bennett uses the stunning Portmeirion location to its fullest, particularly here in part 2 as the Doctor is chased by Federico's guards. It's like a whistlestop tour of San Martino, and having visited the location many times, they're all still recognisable today (although I think the steps leading down from the statue of Atlas are now out of bounds). I adore the brief scene in the marketplace, dressed so well by Barry Newbery, with its baskets of fruit and grain, and tapestries and sheets hanging on lines.

Also designed well are the masks worn by the brethren of the Cult of Demnos, an ancient Roman brotherhood that apparently died out in the third century, but is still going strong in the late 15th century. These masks represent hollow-eyed men in some sort of perpetual scream, although sometimes that scream looks like horror or fear. The golden mask worn by Hieronymous is something very special again, a face of demonic malice which looks magnificent however Dennis Channon chooses to light it. Hieronymous's purple robes are the icing on the cake, cleverly reflecting the natural colour of the mandrake/ nightshade plant family.

The Masque of Mandragora Part One

The one where an energy wave hitches a ride in the TARDIS...

It's been some time since we had a proper look round the TARDIS. It used to be quite a regular thing in the Hartnell years to see extra rooms and areas, but there haven't been many glimpses beyond the control room in the 1970s, so it's nice to see the Doctor giving Sarah a guided tour here. In truth, we only really get to see some corridors, and the cavernous boot cupboard (an out of focus photograph of a living room from the same file as Mrs Farrel's CSO kitchen in Terror of the Autons!), but it's a lovely reminder that the Doctor's ship is infinitely bigger on the inside.

The greatest discovery on this guided tour is, of course, the secondary control room, resplendent in oak and stained glass. Designer Barry Newbery plays a blinder with the new control room, making it much more Victorian, like an academic's study. It has different levels and sections, and I can well imagine the First Doctor milling about in there (not so much the Second). The Doctor finds a frilly shirt and velvet jacket gathering dust, left there by his predecessor perhaps, while Sarah discovers the Second Doctor's recorder. It's a lovely scene, and a lovely new set. Somehow, it fits this moodier Doctor. Not sure what the shaving mirror's all about though...