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.