Castrovalva written by Christopher H Bidmead and directed by Fiona Cumming

This story in a nutshell: The newly regenerated Doctor needs his friends to help him get through this latest crisis…

Fair Fellow: I have developed a new appreciation for Peter Davison’s fifth Doctor since enjoying his adventures in the Big Finish audio range. I have always found his televised adventures afforded few opportunities for him to truly shine. There are a few exceptions (Kinda, Snakedance, Enlightenment, Frontios and Androzani) but on the whole I find that we have is a strong actor in a (mostly) underwritten role. Those glimpses of the older man in a younger mans body that dominate in Frontios and Androzani and show the sort of dynamo we could have had in the central role throughout his era. It doesn’t help that the quality of his stories goes up and down like an apoplectic lie detector (Earthshock/Time-Flight shows how the quality can plummet so dramatically before Arc of Infinity/Snakedance exposes how the show can suddenly ascend to new highs again). However I really enjoy his turn in Castrovalva simply because it is such a gentle treatment of regeneration (perhaps this was why it was easier to adapt to Davison’s Doctor than Colin Baker's) and there is a real attempt to show the Doctor recovering from his violent biological change. The Doctor unravels his scarf in the same fashion that his mind is being disentangled and he mentions Romana and K.9 and takes on the persona of his previous selves (Davison’s impression of Troughton is spot on and I did chuckle at his militaristic Pertwee). There is a real sense of history behind the character now that has never been exploited at the point of a regeneration before. It is something that will get out of hand later on his time on the show but it feels fresh and nostalgic here. His scenes amongst the Castrovalvan residents are some the fifth Doctor’s finest and I love his assertion that he has come to the city to find the Doctor – sheer poetry. The Doctor has wisely used the regeneration to forget all about his mathematical genius of a companion but nature abhors a vacuum and he niggles his way back into his mind. Studying the history of Castrovalva with half moon specs on, firing off theories and behaving inanely – why couldn’t the fifth Doctor be this well written all the time? Whatever my criticisms of Bidmead's charactersation of the fourth Doctor in Logopolis were (he was the ultimate expressions of the naughty undergraduate that the script editor couldn't bear and he tried to shape him into something quite against his nature), his fifth Doctor is spot on because he is the one who has the ultimate hand in creating him. It is quite telling that the next time he will be characterised quite this rivetingly is Frontios, Bidmead's next contribution. By the end of the story the Doctor is commandingly standing up to both Shardovan and the Master, it feels as though he has finally arrived.Where the wealth of companions felt like it was threatening to overwhelm Tom Baker and cramp his style, the final scenes of Castrovalva have a positive air to them. The fifth Doctor is young and beautiful and he is heading off into the universe with three faced youths (well, two fresh faced faced youths and one permenant middle aged scowl).

Alien Orphan: There’s a great moment when Nyssa sees her fathers face on the scanner waving them to their deaths and she cries that she hates his face. It must eat her up that the Master is using her fathers body to commit such awful crimes and it is such a shame that we didn’t get to explore that more. She knows so little about telebiogenesis, alas. There’s a glorious moment of absolute calm during their first morning in Castrovalva where Nyssa watches the ladies work through their bedroom window, checks Tegan sleeping calmly and then takes a stroll through the streets simply basking in the ambiance. It's exactly the sort of thing I would be doing if I were travelling with the Doctor and as a quiet moment of normality amongst all the madness it’s the sort of thing Doctor Who should do far more often than it does. It feels very Hartnell era and that is absolutely a compliment. Nyssa tries to reason with the Master but he merely tosses her across the room like a rag doll. Clearly there is no trace of Tremas left in there.

Mouth on Legs: Without a doubt one of Tegan’s (and Janet Fielding’s) best stories. Christopher H Bidmead writes so well for the feisty air hostess that he created and perhaps if he had remained as script editor we would have seen a much smoother ride for the character. It is strange because where he characterised her as an , unbearable harridan in Logopolis, she is a much more reasonable, deliberating character here. Perhaps it has something to with Janet Fielding's performance too considering this is her fifth story to be filmed and not her second. She's bedded into the role. There’s no whining and moaning about trying to get home here, Tegan recognises that this is a fraught situation and tries to do everything she can to help. She actually feels like a human being – a rare feat. The Doctor nominates Tegan as the co-ordinator, the one to keep them together during the healing process which is a role she seems determined to live up to. Tegan gets to enjoy the illusion that she is flying the TARDIS which is not the kind of aircraft she wanted to be indulging herself on but probably the closest she will get to being a pilot! There is some nice humour too (‘I could have shown him Brisbane’ ‘Not up to CAA standards but a landings a landing!’). This is one of the few stories that features Tegan that Janet Fielding doesn’t dominate with her aggressive portrayal and for that I am truly grateful. It shows that the character be made to work with the programme, rather than it working despite her.

Pudding Bowl Haircut: Matthew Waterhouse who hasn’t the ability of a stunt man so his little scrap with the police at the beginning of Castrovalva is marred by bad time and tame kicks and punches. Although I suppose we should give credit where its due, this is the second time in two stories where he has affected a decent diversion and escape plan. 

Panto Beard: It's interesting to note that every time a huge impact was made with a brand new Master the production team decided to play his story out over a handful of stories. Barry Letts and Terrance Dicks creating the Doctor’s Moriarty and had him feature in every story for an entire season. John Nathan Turner and Christopher H Bidmead re-invented the character in the form of Anthony Ainley and enjoyed a three story marathon (over 12 episodes). And when Russell T Davies decided to bring him back for the New Series there was a stonkingly epic three episode tale to revel in his madness. It would seem that one story isn’t enough and we need prolonged exposure as proof that this is the version that is sticking around for a while. He’s such a devious sod that he needs to install traps inside traps as a back up just in case his initial trap doesn’t work! It says something about his confidence in himself (or rather his confidence in the Doctor) that he knows he is going to fail and have to try again!

Sparkling Dialogue: ‘One of the advantages of stark simplicity…’
‘The solution. Oh my little friend if only you were.’
‘Definitely civilisation’ - biting into a celery stick!
‘You made us man of evil but we are free…’
‘Well whoever I feel like, it's absolutely splendid!’

The Good: Pre-title sequences are tenapenny these days but back in the day these were rare treats and this is one of the best, a reprise of the events at the end of Logopolis with some gorgeous Paddy Kingsland music scoring the emotive transformation. Whoever said that The Parting of the Ways was the first optimistic regeneration obviously hadn't paid attention to this story because everything about the fourth Doctor’s regeneration is about a young man stepping from an old man's life. Pleasingly he sits up with a smile on his face. I always really enjoy the first episode because it is so different from anything else in Doctor Who – a brand new set of regulars  trapped inside the TARDIS and trying to heal the Doctor, getting used to each other and falling into one of the Master’s most devious traps. Am I the only one who thinks it is very cute to have a changing room for cricketers inside the TARDIS? Why not in a ship of infinite rooms? Like Peter Grimwade before her Fiona Cumming manages to convince with a handful of sets and some clever editing and camerawork that the TARDIS is a labyrinthe of many passageways and different rooms. Between Logopolis and Castrovalva we have Chris Bidmead to thank for really exploring the potential of the TARDIS as an alien and unknowable setting. With Castrovalva he puts an equal amount of weight behind the characters and it makes a huge difference to the overall piece. The consequence of being able to gain enough momentum to escape Event One is to delete 25% of the TARDIS – I love how Bidmead uses clever science to get the Doctor out of this situation and as a small side note his description of momentum here helped me to pass a GCSE exam question. Cheers Bidmead! I’m quite keen on TARDIS imagery (my desktop is usually a TARDIS photoshop that some genius has dreamed up) so I love the look of the ship lopsided sticking out of the ferns. I’m also a massive fan of long walks in the leafy British countryside and so the location work in Castrovalva is some of my favourite, passing streams and banks with the birds singing and the grass fresh and vibrant, it's just gorgeous. Add to it some stunning Kingsland mood music and it is one of the few times I don’t care that the narrative has taken a massive pause because I am simply drinking in the atmosphere. How ironic that Castrovalva should be a made up location because it feels like one of the most realistic foreign locations the show has ever given us. A bustling town, full of life and packed with lovely detail such as the washer women, hunters and a unique poetic dialogue of their own. The sets are marvellously designed and built with imperial pillars, marbles steps, balconies and flaming torches all mixing to create a rich effect and Cumming adds much atmosphere by lighting the scenes appropriately for day and night. Populated with characters such as Mergrave, Ruther, Shardovan and the Portreeve, Castrovalva is warm and wonderful place to visit and recuperate. A shame it's all a nasty trap on the part of the Master but he gets full marks for creating a genuinely restful location. The first time I watched this story I had no idea that the Portreeve was being played by Anthony Ainley. It’s a fantastic performance, throaty and aged and after this is and his lovely turn as Tremas it is breaks my heart to see Ainley stuck with the interminably pantomimic role of the Master because it is clear he has so much more the give. I was sure Shardovan was the Master. The end of episode three is always knocked for it's dodgy final effect and yes it isn’t quite up to scratch but the work that is done by Fiona Cumming and the actors to convince that every route leads back to the square really sells the idea of a labyrinth turning in on itself for me. I can think of no better example of free will as the Master’s puppets turn on him and hold him back whilst the Doctor escapes with his companions. I have to mention Paddy Kingland’s score for Castrovalva which is one my favourites in Doctor Who’s entire run. It is one of the most affective and lyrical of scores and adds a great deal of tension and excitement to the early scenes (I love the music as they approach Event One).

The Bad: I can understand the logic of having the first handful of stories being filmed before the opening story of the season because the regulars in Castrovalva are gorgeously presented. The flip side is that you go from a story like this where the actors are relaxed around each other to Four to Doomsday where suddenly everybody seems unsure and nervous and unsure. It's such a shocking contrast from one to the other that I’m not sure in hindsight that it was the best idea. The chase back to the TARDIS would be much more dynamic if it wasn’t just a couple of feet away – I don’t know why they don’t just run rather than go to all the trouble of stealing an ambulance. Atmospherics aside, Tegan and Nyssa are a bit rubbish when it comes to getting to Castrovalva. First they lose the wheelchair in the stream, then Nyssa falls in, then they dump the Zero Cabinet and then they are shocked to discover the Doctor has gone walkabout. I don’t know if I would want this two watching my back. The mirrored effect of the Doctor and company crossing the Bridge is possibly a bit too simple to suggest the occlusion.

The Shallow Bit: The fifth Doctor’s costume is probably the least offensive of the Doctor’s that JNT catered for but it still feels remarkably cobbled together and more like a uniform than anything that came before it. The jacket is far too stylised and I hate the colour (surely the blandest of Doctor’s should be given something other than the blandest of colours to wear?) but I love the cricketing jumper underneath. There is something quintessentially British about the fifth Doctor that makes me smile. Nyssa’s fairy skirt is like something out of Lewis Carroll on speed and I was very pleased to see she swapped it for a pair of trousers to trudge around in outside. The less said about Adric’s pyjamas and Tegan’s unflattering air hostess uniform the better. It has to be said that there is something remarkably kinky about the Master keeping Adric trapped within a webbing of metal torture devices – it's probably the closest to sado-machoistic bondage you get to enjoy in Doctor Who if that is what floats your boat. Some swear there is a scene where you can see Adric's stiffy...but, well...who would want to go looking for that? It's well worth having a close look at Tegan’s stockings when she dabs her hand in the Doctor’s blood – there is a massive hole the size of her thighs. 

Result: A gloriously sedate, warm and wonderful opening story to introduce the fifth Doctor. Critics that say Bidmead can only write cold science (me in the last story then) should rewatch the Castrovalva sequences which are imbued with a depth of character and wonderful lines and observations on the new TARDIS crew. The opening two episodes are a little short on incident but this is more than made for by watching this new team of regulars find their way with each other plus a great chance to explore the depths of the TARDIS. Both the location work and the design are beautiful and it really feels as though JNT has upped the budget tenfold since the all studio days of the latter end of season seventeen. As the Doctor says ‘trim time ship and a ship shape team’ which is exactly what the show needed after Tom Baker’s seven year span and it genuinely feels like this is an exciting and optimistic new direction for the show. Visually and tonally there has never been anything like this before and since and I think its rather wonderful: 9/10

Logopolis written by Christopher H Bidmead and directed by Peter Grimwade

This story in a nutshell: The universe nearly ends and Tom Baker leaves Doctor Who, I’m not sure which is more important at this stage.

Teeth and Curls: Somebody commented on the blog recently with a very good point about why Bidmead was never going to be the most natural writer for Tom Baker's Doctor: 'I think this a pretty good definition of what undergraduate humour. It's always a criticism, but of what, exactly? Well, undergraduates have a reputation for pranks, for jokiness, for not taking things too seriously and not respecting those in authority. There's also a general dislike of undergraduates in society at large, for being faintly decadent and lazy (see Rose, in which the title character believes that only students would dress up as Autons and try to scare people for a laugh). Bidmead himself deplored such people, commenting that, at thirty-six, he realised he was "a bit fed up with arty people and wanted the discipline of science back". The stereotype of the student is a tousle-haired fellow with a scarf and bohemian clothes thinking deep thoughts but making crap jokes: in other words, the fourth Doctor himself. In what is clearly something of a handicap for him as a script-editor, Bidmead just didn't like the kind of person the fourth Doctor was.' A really good point, I feel and one worth quoting here. Tom Baker is the only person giving the cold material material any sense of gravity. The Doctor wanders about the Cloister Room deep in thought and pondering the entropy of the universe. There is bound to be a lot of fuss about Romana if they go back to Gallifrey and he would rather visit his home from home, Earth. The TARDIS and he are getting better at short hops these days but then he has had a great deal of practice this season. The Doctor is overlooking the obvious again, remembering his failure to spot the Master in The Keeper of Traken. When the Doctor first spots the Watcher it is a great moment, he looks positively haunted. ‘DO YOU WANT A QUICK DECISION OR A DEBATE?’ he screams and I love it when he lays into Adric! The Watcher beckoning the Doctor to the bridge is a seminal scene. Look at Tom Baker’s face as Janet Fielding shrieks at him in a parody of acting, he looks genuinely pained to be sharing the screen with the actress. He hates farewells and so bustles his collected companions into the TARDIS before they have a chance to get sentimental. The Doctor admits he is prepared for the worst because the Watcher is around. I love his ‘Earth, please’ – only Tom Baker could get away with saying such a flippant line so casually. His pact with the Master is the act of a desperate man with no other options. He envies the Master and is appalled that he is willing to shoot an innocent bystander. He has a vague faith in the nature of things, which is a good thing given what is about to happen to his nature. It is nice that the Doctor goes out saving the universe but really...what a boring way to go about it! Tom Baker is the best thing about Logopolis by a country mile and insists on making the swansong count even if the characterless script is working against most of the time.

Mad Aussie: Enter the shrieking harridan. She’s halfway bearable in the first episode because she is forced into a naturalistic role but as soon as she is crow barred into a fantastical setting that the character falls to pieces and Janet Fielding overplays everything to such an extent that it is impossible to buy into the character. When Ian and Barbara had a similarly shock reaction to the TARDIS they questioned intelligently but in comparison Tegan just wails and stamps her feet and bursts into tears. Any one of these would have done the job but all of them equal to a lot of noise but not much character. To be fair to Bidmead her horrified reaction to the Ship is probably the most realistic since Ian and Barbara’s but Fielding’s performance lacks the subtlety and intelligence of Russell and Hill’s. Auntie Vanessa puts her extreme memories of her childhood into perspective – ‘Your father’s farm was hardly the outback!’ As soon as she hits the studio Tegan stiffens up: ‘My neem – my name’s Te-gan Jo-vank-a!’ although perhaps a fluff is understandable under the circumstances. I get that Tegan is supposed to be our eyes and ears, a fish out of water but the fact that she doesn’t contribute anything to the plot and we keep cutting away from more interesting material to her wandering around the TARDIS ‘like a rabbit in a cage’ leaves the exercise redundant. Her ‘I demand to see whoever’s in charge of this ship!’ is gonad clenchingly painful. I was howling with laughter when Tegan was left holding the calculations as though all she is good for is performing the work of a clipboard. She says ‘Nyssa and Adric have gone to look for the Master!’ as though she is retarded. Seriously, go back and watch it again, she sounds like a right simpleton. ‘You revolting man!’ she cries at the Master, flinging herself at him wildly and doing the waltz as he pushes her away. ‘Earth!’ she cries like a cartoon character to the camera. There is nothing remotely convincing about this character. Or enjoyable if I'm honest, and we're stuck with her for the next three seasons. Help me.

Pudding Bowl Haircut: Shoot me down flames for saying it but I think this might just be Adric and Mathew Waterhouse's best appearance in Doctor Who. Not that I’m saying he’s particularly good by any means but Matthew Waterhouse is really trying to keep up with Tom Baker in Logopolis with a fraction of the talent and actually manages to make the odd bit of dialogue both nuanced and naturalistic. Shocking! His fake bike accident might just be the best moment for his character; it is the closest he came to being the artful dodger as intended. He’s  alarmingly sexist to both Tegan and Nyssa and a bit of a know-all but he is bearable. That is what we call in this series a miracle.

Alien Orphan: She’s only in the story for two episodes (of which she introduced in the most casually heinous fashion imaginable) but she manages to outshine the two characters above in half the amount of screen time. Nyssa came to Logopolis to find the Master because she wants to know what happened to her father. Imagine seeing your father cloaked in a veil of beauteous evil as she does here? It is the only story that bothers to try and deal with the aftermath of the events of Traken and the death of her father so points for that but minus some for never pushing it far enough. There is too much going on to give Nyssa's loss the attention it deserves. Sarah Sutton is so good she manages to ace the two moments of genuine drama that occur in this story. Her ‘you killed my father?’ to the Master is beautifully underplayed and poignant. However the best moment in Logopolis comes when sees the whole universe spread out on the scanner and she realises it is being eaten away by the encroaching entropy brought on by the Master; Sarah Sutton really sells the majesty and tragedy of the notion, especially the loss of her home. If only she had been given more material of this nature.

The Good Stuff: The Master really wants to invite that policeman in for tea in the gripping first scene. Why couldn’t Auntie Vanessa have been the companion? She’s far more likable! Imagine the fourth Doctor and Vanessa roaming around the universe…what a riot! I love the first ring of the cloister bell greeted by Howell’s organ music; it’s like a portent of doom for the Doctor and a series that has gotten too used to him being around. The image of the police box within the console room has a feeling of wrongness about it that feels very right. Creating solid objects through pure mathematics, I bet Bidmead got a real hard on writing this geekiest of premises. The Watcher in the field is another distinctive image, another portent of doom for the Doctor. TARDISes within TARDISes is an intriguing idea but not original, it was dealt with just as well in The Time Monster. Still points for doing something interesting with the Ship, Bidmead is clearly much more involved in the complexities of the Ship than he is in his characters. How much better does the console room look with the lights turned down? Peter Grimwade genuinely manages to make the TARDIS feel infinite with some very clever camerawork. The shrinking TARDIS is an unusual but effective cliffhanger. I love the Logopolitans carrying the mini TARDIS, that's a new way of going about things. The simplicity of the ‘outside time and space’ effect really works because it is so scaled back. The Monitor vanishing is the first time the end of universe actually meant something to this member of the audience. Odd that larking about in fields eluding the guards is the most entertaining thing on offer in this story. The music is magnificent throughout the chase scenes, sounding for all the world as though it has leapt from a seventies police drama. The flashbacks are sweet and it must have come as a terrible shock to have seen a montage of fabulous companions such as Sarah Jane, Leela and Romana and wake up to find Adric, Tegan and Nyssa staring at him. It is no surprise that he regenerated on the spot.

The Bad Stuff: I thought JNT thought the combo of the Doctor, Romana and K.9 didn’t work because it was a bit ‘too smart’ and yet all he and Adric do in the first two episodes is talk technobabble. Auntie Vanessa’s death is oddly comical for what is supposed to be a shocking scene...the camera heads right up her nose. The Master’s dolls are still as absurd as ever and nothing has yet topped the awesome image of the guy CSOed in the lunchbox from Terror of the Autons. Stick that up your 'I hate CSO' pipe and smoke it. How does Nyssa know that the Master has taken over Tremas? Did he make a public announcement on Traken? Flushing out the Master? Surely the most illogical plan the Doctor has attempted until deciding to throw himself off a cliff in Dragonfire (but then maybe he was just sick of being Sylvester McCoy and thought this was the best way out?). Why is the Master giggling so much? Delgado occasionally chuckled when things went his way but it seems like a nervous condition of the Ainley version. I still think we missed a trick by losing the Geoffrey Beevers version so quickly. He is a far better actor than Ainley as his Big Finish performances would go on to prove. The idea of Logopolis is lovely; a town in the shape of a brain with old monks whispering calculations to each other but the execution turns the gorgeous idea into an economic mess of cardboard sets, dodgy electronic effects and gammy wigs. It is cheap and unconvincing when it had the potential to be as potent as a pipe like the similarly fantasy based environment in Warriors' Gate. How nobody can sniff out the Master’s TARDIS is a puzzlement because the column sticks out like a sore thumb. Nyssa is shoehorned into the story at the end of episode two with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. I'm glad she's there but surely Bidmean could have found a more effective way to weave her into the story than to just dump her there. There are horrendous painted backdrops of the Logopolitans at work and nobody seems to notice these poor guys shrinking everywhere – not even their fellow workers! The end of the universe is…cardboard rubble bouncing about the place. So disappointing. Oddly far more emphasis is given to the Doctor’s collaboration with the Master rather than where the real drama lies, the deaths of Auntie Vanessa and Tremas and Tegan and Nyssa’s reaction to their loss. Bidmead never wants to engage with the characters when there is a wealth of dull science to lecture us with. The Doctor and the Master working together to save the universe is a climactic idea but it seems to involve them reading computer printouts and squabbling over a device – fucking well dramaticise this story Bidmead! Only the Master is such a twat that he would record a message for the entire universe relaying his demands before his plans have even come to fruition. The final climactic set piece is completely fudged; there's an unconvincing model satellite, the pantomime tripping over of the Master, the wobbly cardboard dish turning, the cardboard cut out Master looking on, the Doctor dolly hanging on a string and I can't quite fathom why the Doctor fell because he is clearly sitting on the scaffolding rather than hanging as the script seems to imply. Such a shame.

The Gross Bit: For some the idea of Adric draped over the TARDIS as he is here in episode one is all their dreams come true. Fortunately they have all been institutionalised.

Result: Christopher H Bidmead is far more comfortable doing clever things with the TARDIS than writing for his characters or creating any kind of drama the audience can relate to. His script for Logopolis is all ideas and no sparkle; it would be so embarrassing if the universe were to end in a wave of technobabble as it threatens to here. It is directed imaginatively but the budget really lets the Grimwade down and given how striking many of the stories of season eighteen look you can't help but blanch at how no money seems to have been secreted away in the kitty for Tom Baker’s last story. Baker is trying his damnedest to make his swansong count for something and Sutton manages to salvage a couple of very good moments out of this mess but with Fielding over emoting and Waterhouse just barely on the right side of average even the regulars are a real mixed bunch. I honestly cannot imagine the fourth Doctor having any continuing adventures with this trio. Had things not turned out the way they did I think he might have piloted the TARDIS into a supernova to force his regeneration to let Davison enjoy the pain of their company. Tegan joins the series and the universe decides to give up and rot away – I do not believe the two events are unrelated: 5/10

The Valley of Death written by Jonathan Morris (from a story by Phillip Hinchcliffe) and directed Ken Bentley

What’s it about: A century after his Great-Grandfather Cornelius vanished in the Amazon rainforest, Edward Perkins is journeying to the depths of the jungle to find out what became of his ancestor’s lost expedition. Intrigued by what appears to be a description of a crashed spacecraft in the diaries of that first voyage, the Doctor and Leela join him on his quest. But when their plane runs into trouble and ends up crash landing, everyone gets more than they bargained for. The jungle is filled with giant creatures and angry tribesmen, all ready to attack. But in the famed lost city of the Maygor tribe, something far, far worse is lurking. Something with an offer to make to mankind. Who are the Lurons and can they be trusted? Will the Doctor defeat the plans of the malevolent Godrin or will he become just another victim of the legendary Valley of Death...

Teeth and Curls: The Doctor tramples all over the mystery of the tale with logic, asking if the Professor vanished without a trace how his diary found it’s way back to England. Had this story been made it would have been the last time the Doctor mentioned his association with UNIT during his fourth lifetime. When the Doctor gets deadly serious Leela knows to do precisely as she’s told. A city of solid gold is a bit flashy for the Doctor’s tastes but then he has never exactly been in vogue. He’s fallen victim to too many traps in his four lives that spikes descending from the ceiling just don’t cut it anymore. In a moment that quite took my breath away the Doctor informs Godrin in no uncertain terms that if he shared his lack of interest in life then he wouldn’t be standing, breathing now for all the loss of life he has caused. I love it when Baker gets angry, his Doctor feels dangerous when he does. He’s happy to call in the help of UNIT if it is necessary but in the same breath he’ll happy mock them at every opportunity. The Doctor is appalled at the inadequacies of his duplicate despite the fact they look and sound exactly the same. Obviously he thinks he is unique. He’ll accept his weaknesses though, he admits that he wouldn’t have lasted much longer exposed to the radiation of the Luron sun if Leela hadn’t turned up.

Noble Savage: You can always count on Leela to be honest and she informs Edward Perkins that his grandfather was stupid for not listening to the people of the jungle and that his fate was justly deserved. He first experience in an aeroplane does not feel like flying to Leela, being trapped inside the belly of a machine that hurts her ears. But she likes the windows, you can see where you are going unlike the TARDIS. She often talks about having no fear of death but proves it when they are plummeting to their deaths in a screaming plane and all traces of terror are absent. Especially in comparison to the other female passenger. The jungle is Leela’s natural environment so you can be sure that she shines in this adventure – she does so in pretty much all of her stories but she has an opportunity to outfox nature in the way that only she knows how here. Never underestimate her intelligence, she spots immediately that there is ‘little man’ behind Godrin giving the deity as bombastic voice. She has absolute faith in the Doctor, considering their foe beat just because he is present. Leela offers a man a massage, not aware of the effect that she has on them. She tries her best but sometimes she cocks up the simplest of proverbs (‘The beach is clear?’). Leela is excited to see her duplicate because she wants to know if she fights as well as she does. Leela proves that she has learnt a great deal from the Doctor when she declares the powerful weapon in the universe the sonic screwdriver. Because it is a tool of intellect rather than savagery.

Standout Performance: Nigel Carrington brings his best Brian Blessed to the role of Godrin the deity. So convincing was he that I was having flashes of the Nekross King from Wizards vs Aliens. What’s brilliant is when we get to the man behind the façade and he is as camp as Christmas.

Sparkling Dialogue: ‘More unlikely than a lost valley full of giant frogs?’

‘I’d be careful with that gadget if I were you. They might think you’re stealing their souls. Or their intellectual property.’

‘It’s an ancient temple in the middle of the Amazon rainforest – of course it’s booby trapped!’

‘This is your chance for the scoop of a lifetime. A face to face interview with God himself!’

‘It’ll be like trying to stun a wilder beast with a peashooter!’

‘Protocol? Only a military mind can make visiting an alien spacecraft sound tedious.’

Great Ideas: I’ve got a friend who is terrified of frogs and toads so the thought of coming across one the size of a rhinoceros would probably be enough to send her into an apoplectic fit. A perfect audio teaser, The Valley of Death opens with an extract of Cornelius Perkins journal during his expedition to the jungle, planting the viewing straight into the action in a very intimate way. I very much liked how it cuts to the gathering where the journal is being read out suddenly, the extract cut short and with no further entries to complete the story. There is our mystery. I would have loved to have been able to see the sequence of the plane careering out of control and heading for the Amazon rainforest, the two pilots burnt to death, but I fear that it might have been a little beyond the budget of even the expensively produced Hinchcliffe era. This region has been coined the ‘second Bermuda Triangle’, a fact that it might have been quite relevant to know before stepping onto a plane and flying across it. The jungle proves to be a deadly and inhospitable location, full of natural dangers. There is a 104 year discrepancy between the year the Professor went missing and the year his great grandson came looking for him that has to be explained. A crashed flying saucer dashed on the rocks and of the Amazonian rainforest, that is some potent imagery for sure. Godrin is the last survivor of the Luron race. Hundreds of years their scientists attempted to increase the power of their sun but instead they caused it turn into a supernova (there’s a lot of that sort of going about, sadly) and only a few ships survived. To honour the motherland they decided to search the cosmos for worlds containing intelligent life so they could share their technology and make sure no other worlds repeated their mistakes. He decided to stick around on the Earth until the human race became sufficiently advanced enough to take advantage of his technological know-how. He generated a time bubble around the valley to slow the passage of time (that explains the great grandfather that never got a day older). He has been waiting for somebody to technologically advanced enough to get through the time bubble, somebody how knows how to use a gravity inversion drive. It bucks the trend of the usual four part format by shifting into an entirely different story halfway through, switching locations from the jungle back to contemporary London. It makes for a refreshing change to have two such vastly different halves of the same story. The twist that it has been two years since they have been away comes out of nowhere but makes perfect sense given the time manipulation concepts the story has flaunted. The Luron fleet hasn’t been destroyed, they are very much alive and the mothership is orbiting the Earth ready to strike. I was greatly amused by the notion that Brigadier is in Oslo because of fishing stocks – somehow Hinchcliffe never could get Nick Courtney back. We’ve seen villains perform some heinous acts before on Doctor Who but never anything quite as damning as interrupting a broadcast by the BBC to contact their mothership. Beware of Greeks bearing gifts, the Luron mothership communicates with Earth and offers bounty in return for settlement but as is always with these things it is never as simple as it seems. How amusing is a press conference with aliens? UNIT hasn’t learnt much from the Doctor over the years…if they aren’t returned to Terra Firma by the end of the day then their ground forces will start lobbing missiles at the Lurons. The Luron world has become uninhabitable but it wasn’t the work of a supernova – the miniaturised their own sun to power their ship across the galaxy to find a new home. That’s some impressive technology. A sun being used as a glorified nuclear reactor. They place a time bubble around the mothership so that time slows down relative to the outside world. Over time they will be able to re-populate the Earth with Luron duplicates, like Invasion of the Body Snatchers on fast-forward. The irony of Godrin being poisoned by the very sun he was exploiting for so many of his schemes is delicious.

Audio Landscape: Some Big Finish adventures really standout because of their soundscapes and The Valley of Death is one such example. Andy Hardwick has done an incredible job of bringing what is essentially an action tale on audio to life. Shut your eyes and be whisked off to the Amazonian jungle, I promise you with authentic sound effects like this you wont find it at all difficult. Birdsong, lush, aggressive vegetation, anxious natives, animalistic roar, a plane screaming past the listener (it almost gave me a turn), a plan struck by lightning, the engines screaming, a destructive crash landing through the rain forest, the scuttling legs of hordes of tarantulas attacking, tribes folk chanting, poison darts shooting through the forest, toppling over the edge of a precipice, the ship careering over, Leela falling and landing in a squelching mess, moving stone, growling taxi, the hypnotic signal, the hustle and bustle of UNIT HQ, a screaming crowd on a spaceship, the duplicates being burnt in the light of the Luron sun is spectacularly nasty, sonic blast, Godrin screaming as he falls off a gantry,

Isn’t it Odd: Not so much a criticism as a consideration but The Valley of Death is real love letter to the Hinchcliffe era, or rather The Face of Evil, The Deadly Assassin, Terror of the Zygons and The Android Invasion. You’ve got a dangerous jungle setting, all manner of phobias being thrown at the characters, a vicious primitive tribe, a false God created through technology, body print patterns, duplicates and the Doctor discovering the is only six aliens to deal with (isn’t it time one of them came out on a balcony and waved a tentacle?). To say it isn’t entirely original is an understatement.

Standout Scene: Imagine the harm that will be done if humanity is given inexhaustible, free energy, a longer life span and a cure for all major diseases? It would fundamentally change the way we live our lives, alter the political landscape and bring a whole host of new rewards to fight over. A shame that more isn’t made of this potentially shattering development for humanity because it would sure make an interesting story.

Result: Heading off to an exotic clime to solve an intriguing mystery, the first two episodes of The Valley of Death are top notch Big Finish and worthy of much praise. The second half is entertaining but much more routine alien invasion bumf of the sort we have seen countless times on this show. However with Jonny Morris scripting the dialogue, there are plenty of witty lines and the characterisation is tops across the board and so even if the plot has been reduced to something akin to what we are used to the whole piece stays afloat on those terms. Much like The Seeds of Doom, The Valley of Death ends somewhere vastly different from where it started except this time the shift is not in the story’s favour because the unusual locale of the early episodes made for a fresh audio experience. Tom Baker and Louise Jameson are on incredible form throughout, clearly delight to have the opportunity to work together again and Nigel Carrington deserves a round of applause for his fantastically over the top villain. A shame he is confined to one story because he is crying out for return appearances. The whole thing moves along at such a lick I felt as if all four episodes flew by like a dream – I’ve listen to two part fourth Doctor adventures from subsequent seasons that have dragged out at what felt like a much greater length. Paired with The Foe from the Future you have a dazzling pair of stories to greet the return of the fourth Doctor and I wish I had listened to this set before Destination: Nerva because I would have had a much more animated reaction to his first appearance on audio had that been the case. That’s entirely my fault as I was holding onto this set because I somehow knew it was going to be good and wanted to keep something back to fall back on if I ever got bored of the main range. I’m glad I discovered its treasures sooner or later and I can now see why so many people were thrilled with the arrival of the fourth Doctor to audio. Flawed but massively fun to listen to: 8/10

Warriors’ Gate written by Stephen Gallagher and directed by Paul Joyce (with some help by Graeme Harper)

This story in a nutshell: A featureless void, a gateway and two spaceships…

Teeth and Curls: It's great to see Tom Baker, the most memorable of Doctors going out with such innovative material. It is interesting that this is early days for JNT and he is reluctant to use elements of the shows history as he would from the next season onwards and so the fourth Doctor is spearheading original storytelling right up until his last breath. Whilst I have some problems with quietening the most boisterous of Doctors so much, it is true that by forcing Baker to stick to a script as exceptional as Warriors' Gate you are dragging something rather inspired from him. And his performances in stories such as Full Circle and Warrior’s Gate are some of his finest from his entire seven year run. The Doctor is firm but friendly with the TARDIS and presses any button and hopes for the best. You’ve got to admire his audacity when pretending to be a Gundan and suggesting he always gets on really well with machines when his cover is blown  (Daleks? Cybermen? K1? The Robots of Death?). He is so cheeky, prompting the Gundan’s to continue their story (‘All the gateways are one! All the gateways are one!’). As much as it might stick in the craw because of the transition of companions that is about to take place, you can see what they were going for by sticking the Doctor, Romana and Adric together in the TARDIS as a family unit. It is only in this story that it is (sort of) bourne out. Had Matthew Waterhouse been at all likable it might have worked really well (they even have a pet dog). The Doctor fights tyranny and oppressors and knocks over his overfilled cup of wine. He gives up on trying to convince bureaucratic bully Rorvik of the dangers they are facing and munches on a pickle instead. The insane Tom Baker returns for a moment when he is in the driving seat of the MZ, looking positively dangerous as he makes his escape by pointing the destructive satellite dish at them. To show how much his efforts have been appreciated for the last seven years the Doctor is booted right in the face and nearly strangled to death with his own scarf. I can imagine Bidmead adding that touch to the script. His instant acceptance of Romana’s decision to leave feels very right, after all she has been doing all the Doctory bits for the last two seasons. There's no maudlin introspection here, there simply isn't time, he simply accepts her bold and brave decision decision and smile wistfully of the though of her continuing his work in E-Space when he is back in the TARDIS.

Luscious Lalla: Come in number two your papers have finally been served. JNT is convinced his audience would much rather hang about with Tegan than Romana (what the hell?) and so out goes all the style, charm and intelligence and in comes the antagonism, soap operatics and shouting. Fucking marvellous. Romana’s concern for taking Adric from his home universe is scuppered by the fact that Lalla Ward clearly can’t stand Matthew Waterhouse. She practically spits her lines at him. ‘What if the Doctor and I went separate ways?’ Romana is the Doctor now, watch as she manages to put down Rorvik, Lane and Packard just by being smugly intelligent. Within her departure story she also gets to be a whimpering, screaming companion one last time. And fabulously bossy as well - ‘ANSWER IT!’ Romana shows compassion for the Tharils and they help her to escape imprisonment because of it. It is long past time she has learnt to obey orders and it is a matter of complete indifference to her that the Doctor thinks she is improving. Romana’s blink and you’ll miss it departure is perfect for the sort of character she was, no nonsense and to the point. A protracted emotional leaving scene would have betrayed everything I liked about her. Can you imagine a better ending for Romana than giving her a whole universe to play with? When I did my marathon watch of Doctor Who I did miss her terribly once she had left though, since this marked the point where the effort started to go out the window with the companions.

Pudding Bowl Haircut: When the Doctor suggest that geeky Adric would love it on Gallifrey you just know he is right. Adric hangs around the console room like a bad smell, pretty much ignored by the Doctor and Romana making mooneyes at each other. Astonishingly Adric doesn’t connect with the plot or do anything until episode four, proving his usefulness to the central thrust of any story. Rorvik describes him as a poisonous child. Smart man.

Sparkling Dialogue: ‘The outer shells torn. A rip you can climb right through. In fact, I just did!’
‘Soon we wont be much better than that chap over there. When the pickles run out.’
‘Its on automatic!’ ‘It doesn’t have an automatic…’
‘I’m finally getting something done!’
‘You were the noblest Romana of them all!’

The Good Stuff: Warriors' Gate features the kind of attention grabbing opening that The Leisure Hive was going for but didn't quite achieve, a slow pan through the ship that exposes the detail in the set and ponders questions about the setting before the narrative has even kicked in. The direction immediately jumps out at you as something special, how crossing the time winds is captured in the slow motion tossing of a coin. The leonine Tharil make up is very effective because it is so subtle (take note Cheetah People, this is how it could have been done). Biroc’s escape and intrusion in the TARDIS is fantastically shot and full of inventive touches (the sudden close up on his eyes, Lane’s speechless reaction, the slow motion running through the void, making mincemeat out of the console). It's not every week that the Ship is invaded like this. Everybody must have met a personality like Rorvik in their life; an inwardly conflicted bully who ruthlessly self-destructs when people don’t take him seriously. It's effortlessly easy to sympathise with him whilst fearing him at the same time, he's like Mainwaring from Dad's Army at gas mark ten.. I love the fairytale idea of the gateway in the void, this is Doctor Who going all out at exploring a fantasy environment. In contrast the cobweb strewn banquet hall is a gloriously decaying piece of set design. Warriors' Gate is packed full of potent juxtapositions like that. I like it when the TARDIS is described in fresh ways and the comic potential of seeing the ship as a craft for midgets or a coffin for a very large man really tickled me. The skull faced horned Gundans are the best-looking robots that Doctor Who ever gave us, they manage to look both ancient and powerful. Despite the fact that it is clearly a model the freighter is another lovely piece of design work. Rorvik’s crew are such a realistic bunch; a lazy, mouthy, greedy, bored, hungry group of louts of which even the lesser characters are fleshed out well in this environment. The last people in the universe that you would want to be stuck in this environment and as such the best for driving the comedy and drama of the piece. They near as much give Rorvik a nervous breakdown. Aldo and Royce are famously memorable, commenting on the action with such bored disdain and not having the stomach to commit the brutal acts that Rorvik asks of them. The answers are built into the script slowly so you have to work to get a complete picture of what is going on before you can understand the answers. The jigsaw is made up of the Gundan’s exposition, conversations with Biroc and the banqueting scenes. Piecing this story together really is a treat because the answers are worth the investigation. Electrocuting the Tharil looks really nasty, he writhes with smoking agony. The direction continues to be inventive with the rasping POV of the burnt Tharil skulking through the ship and menacing Romana. It's one of the most effective and tense cliffhangers in the shows history – the music is phenomenal throughout but it is especially effective at these suspense building moments. Tom Baker looks resplendent in his burgundy costume roaming around the black and white stills, we’re really through the looking glass now. The banqueting music is one of the most evocative pieces in Doctor Who; rich, warm, textured and suggesting a real history for the characters and environment. How fantastic is that tear in the hull of the ship? The designers must have had a field day cutting that hole out of the set for the actors to step in and out of. A candle lit banqueting hall with the Tharils enjoying gargantuan repast melting forwards in time into cobwebs and skeletons…striking pictures are telling this narrative. When the Gundan’s burst into the hall to attack the Tharils we have reached a peak of Doctor Who visually, at least in the classic series. It's great fun that K.9 has been explaining what is really going on for four episodes and everybody from the characters to the audience have been ignoring him because he is so notoriously unreliable these days. Rorvik’s crew are slave trading in time sensitives and dwarf star alloy is the only substance that can hold them. The weak enslave themselves; the story exposes how easily the masters can become the slaves if those in captivity are pushed far enough. Bullies like Rorvik always lack subtlety in their methods, he wants to use the back blast to smash the mirror (‘Everything breaks eventually!’). Sagan’s death is brutally graphic and much deserved. The Tharils reviving is a simple but stunning effect, ghostly figures leaving the ship and entering the gateway. The story ends on one of the most epic explosions, the gateway tearing apart and Rorvik’s ship in flames. It's reassuring that even the most innovative of Doctor Who adventures ends on a big bang.

The Bad Stuff: The freighter scenes are shot like liquid flowing so why is it as soon as we return to the TARDIS console room the camera is frustratingly static? All this talk about the I Ching is fascinating on an intellectual level but the target audience must have felt as though they were talking another language. Bidmead seems determined to prove that smart means boring with this penchant of unnatural dialogue for the regulars that has plagued the characters all year. Poor K.9, in his last story he is kicked, thrown and turned half demented. I think he has just made a lucky escape. The MZ explosion is the only effect in this story that disappoints, bits of polystyrene flying everywhere.

The Shallow Bit: Romana gets to look radiant one last time in her blood red Chinese silk shirt.

Result: Doctor Who as a scientific fairytale, Warriors’ Gate is the show at its most rewarding and visually stunning. There are so many moments to treasure throughout that it is impossible to recount them all (although I have had a good try above) and everything from the set design, lighting, effects, music, performances, direction and scripting are at their peak. Visually it feels like Hinchcliffe is back in the hot seat but imaginatively it feels like Williams is still in control, Warriors' Gate feels like the best of both their takes on Doctor Who and yet remains one of JNT's greatest achievements as producer. Packed full of clever ideas, witty moments, dramatic twists and fantastic characters it is hard to fault a story that takes such an unusual approach to telling a story and gets it so right. One of the highlights of the JNT era and proof if it was needed that eighties Who could be just as bold, innovative and imaginative as anything that came before and since. Masterful: 10/10

Ghost in the Machine written by Jonathan Morris and directed by Louise Jameson

What’s it about: Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow And everywhere that Mary went, that lamb was sure to go. The TARDIS is empty. The Doctor has gone. Jo Grant steps outside into the darkness and finds the frozen body of her friend, and the ship's log recorder. On it is attached a simple message - 'Use Me'. As she explores this place, recording her every move, Jo discovers the horror that lies in the shadows. But by then it is too late.

Groovy Chick: Set in her final season after The Three Doctors and the Time Lords have given the Doctor control of the TARDIS back, here is a chance to show Jo at her perkiest and most confident. In fact this seems to be set post-Planet of the Daleks because Jo mentions the TARDIS log. Strange, because I thought the end of Planet segued straight into The Green Death but this isn’t the first time that Big Finish have taken liberties with a gap that shouldn’t exist (all those adventures they squeezed between Planet of Fire and Androzani). She feels like she has to live up to his expectations, to do what the Doctor would want her to do. It is what dictates her every action. She’s seen enough skeletons to last her a lifetime. By trying to figure out what has happened to the bodies she has stumbled upon, Jo starts scaring herself half to death! Jo is using her previous adventures and what she has learnt from them (specifically The Daemons and Planet of the Daleks) to help her to do the right thing. She is pretty nifty at karate and once she even knocked Sergeant Benton out cold! Once she is made of pure sound she strikes up a friendship with Ben and is devastated when he is wiped from the recording forever, her only companion in this lonely world snatched away. As she is consumed by white noise and screams hysterically for release it struck me that we had never seen this character in such a impotent, terrifying position before. The only story where Jo gets trapped in the body of a man…I can envisage a whole other story with a much bubblier tone where Morris could run with that idea.

Good Grief: The Doctor’s pockets contain a UNIT card and codebook (are there so many top secret rooms and gadgets that it requires a document full of ridiculous code words? Brilliant!), a membership card for a swish London club (naturally the conservative third Doctor would have one of these), Venusian conkers, jelly babies…but no TARDIS key. Like James Goss did in The Scorchies, Jonny Morris figures a dash clever way for the Doctor to be able to speak to Jo in this environment without Jon Pertwee having to be present or Katy Manning to have to play the character. Jo was busy in the wardrobe room when they materialised so he thought it best for all concerned if he had a quick scout around to see where they were. A big mistake, causing all of this bother. The Doctor does a rather fine Jo impression, I have to say. He agrees to lie on Ben’s behalf, to tell Jo that her friend is sleeping and will be returned to a body one day.

Standout Performance: Katy Manning is used to playing several roles on audio now. Nothing will ever quite beat her stunning array of performances in Not a Well Woman and her aural talents were also put to dazzling use in The Scorchies earlier in the year. In Ghost in the Machine she gets to play Jo and the villainous creature that has captured her voice and it just goes to show how much of Jo is a work of fiction. She brings her voice down very low, slows down her reading and the net result is a performance that gave me the chills, especially in comparison to perky, quirky Jo. Watch out for the astonishing sequence where you have Katy Manning playing the Doctor attempting to do an impression of Jo…that takes some skill to slip in and out of both characters. Her interpretation of the Doctor is so warm and comforting, you know things are going to be okay as soon as she gets her hands on the character.

Sparkling Dialogue: ‘We’re now prisoners on the same reel of tape.’

Great Ideas: The first time I saw the cover I thought it was one of the Big Finish placeholders that they put up on the website before the final cover is ready to be released but over time I realised it was the finished article. After listening to the story I went back and looked at the cover again and saw it afresh and it is as subtle but as packed with detail about the story that I had completely missed before. I hadn’t even spotted the grinning skeleton pawing away at the corner. Eight bodies wearing white lab coats greet Jo as she steps from the TARDIS into this eerie environment. If anybody objects to Jo spending much of the first ten minutes of the story talking to herself and making observations about where they have landed, suggesting that it is a ridiculous idea to make an audio story work should be made to watch Planet of the Daleks episode one over and over again where Katy Manning pretty much holds up the entire first episode in this fashion. A stairwell that has been blocked off with concrete and skeletons piled to the ceiling looking as though they were screaming when they died, screaming to set them free. Talk about developing an atmosphere of claustrophobia, I went and grabbed a glass of water at this point. Their leader dead, the scientists were trapped underground with no hope of ever seeing their loved ones again and then people began to change, to turn on each other, fighting over scraps. Bringing back the dead from a tape recording of their voices. The people brought back wouldn’t have bodies but they could live inside the recording and still be able to make contact with the world outside. Cleverly Morris has left behind a tape recording for Jo to discover but it is fragmented and repeating on a loop so she only gets part of the answers, just enough to built up a general picture of what has happened but not so much that she doesn’t have to work anything out. Jo is smart enough to realise that if what Ben says is true she has to re-play her own recordings and see if there is anything different each time she listens. If there is, then Ben is alive within the recording and trying to communicate with her. Why is it wherever you go in the universe that nobody labels the switches properly? Before Jo realises it she is trapped within the tap recording herself and the thing that has borrowed her voice has escaped into the real world. The Doctor resisted the recording creature and so the recording knocked him out and put him in a coma. Two people can exist on the same recording, be transferred from one reel of tape to another. They managed to discovered the first phonograph recording of Thomas Edison reciting Mary Had a Little Lamb and in the process of restoring the sound they discovered that there was another noise in the background. You can only speak the words you have recorded, Jo tries to say words that she didn’t say on tape but she can’t. What a hollow existence that would be, made up of only the words you have already spoken. The scientists are trapped as voices screaming in the dark, trying to escape in a perpetual loop. The creature is not of the Earth but it has trapped here for such a long time. The Doctor left USE ME on the TARDIS log because he knew Jo would use the tape and end up in the recorded realm with him. That man Morris, he always writes such a tidy narrative that I really cannot fault him. The TARDIS key was inside his mouth all the time. Ben has no body to return to and so asks the Doctor to erase the tape and cut his life short. It is no existence at all to remain alive as a recording.

Audio Landscape: The doors opening automatically, screaming, intercoms playing a whispering version of ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’, waves of white noise the cut right through you.

Standout Scene: The very creepy moment when Jo realises that her voice is changing on the recording as well. When she realises that somebody is speaking to her through her own voice. If you make an audio recording, it will use your words against you. If you play back the tap recorder, that’s how it gets out… Subtle, but spine tingling.

Result: ‘If you can hear this then you are in terrible danger…’ Louise Jameson shows an awful lot of skill in her Doctor Who directional debut because it is not easy to have one character talk to themselves for nigh on half an hour with nobody to react to and make it this gripping. I know Jonathan Morris has a massive hand in events too but Jameson has to bring this to life and ensure that what is essentially a monologue doesn’t lose the audiences interest levels. She coaxes a fulsome performance out of Katy Manning and chooses her sound effects and music carefully to build up a sinister atmosphere. The joy of the companion chronicles is that the intimate nature of the first person narrative allows for stories like Ghost in the Machine that are so scaled back that the first episode is Jo on her own discovering the aftermath of a terrible disaster and scaring herself half to death with theories of how it might have happened. It’s a fantastic mystery and Jonathan Morris deploys some memorably grim imagery and you’ll be working as fast as Jo at try and figure out the truth so you can escape the claustrophobic location with her. How can a recording of Jo’s voice by so damn frightening? The first episode leads up to one the creepiest audio cliffhangers ever, just as we figure out what is happening to Jo it is too late. Even the title music sounds scarier. There is a real atmosphere of Sapphire and Steel to the whole story, conceptual horror at it’s finest. How does Jonathan Morris keep knocking out great scripts at such an incredible rate? No wonder he won my favourite Big Finish writer poll, he can turn his hand to any genre successfully and this is his best horror tale yet. Mark Ayres better watch out, who know what boogiemen lurk on the Doctor Who soundtracks he so lovingly restores: 9/10

Kinda written by Christopher Bailey and directed by Peter Grimwade

 

This story in a nutshell: ‘I was possessed! My mind was taken over by the Mara…’

Fair Fellow: I like how the Doctor approaches his adventures with an optimistic air these days, questioning why they should need the sonic screwdriver. He barely seems to notice that Tegan has been hypnotised by the wind chimes, which seems to be a comment on Janet Fielding’s acting ability. Davison is still a little unsure of how to play his Doctor and is pumping for the grinning idiot more often than not, especially when he first enters the Dome. I’d want to point a gun in the face of man who was that overflowing with geniality. It’s not until The Visitation when he leaps upon the idea of an older man in a younger mans body that is running through Saward’s script like a stick of rock and he plays that to the hilt. In Kinda, as pitch perfect as his performance is, he is still playing Peter Davison in space. He’s appalled at the idea of the Kinda being held captive for study but isn’t assured enough to object too strongly. The reason that the end of episode one works so well is the sudden cut to the Doctor’s haunted face. When the Doctor looks that scared, it’s brown trousers time. Is he an idiot? He has been called one many times so he supposes he must be. The Doctor keeps talking because he doesn’t want to admit that Panna is dead. He’s intuitive and pleasant to be around but this might one of the Doctor’s least effective appearances. He’s deliberately kept back from involving himself in the situation until he learns everything that is going on which is not until about ten minutes before the end of the adventure. Until then he is contented to simply observe and take notes.

One Hit Wonder: The companion for the fifth Doctor that never was. In fact my dream team for Davison would be for the Doctor to dump Adric and Tegan here and take Todd with him and for The Awakening to be the next adventure in his run where he would pick up Will Chandler. The fifth Doctor, Todd, Nyssa and Will would have been a much more fun and far more tolerable team than the one we are stuck with for the rest of the season. It’s bizarre because Todd is exactly the sort of character that JNT axed as a regular on the show, she’s smart and capable like Romana was and has a connection with the Doctor because of it. Todd has never been locked up before and if she is going to join the Doctor on his adventures she better get used to that. She sure has a great set of lungs on her, and a great sense of humour too. She’s asks all the appropriate questions but makes some great observations. She’s basically Nyssa but older and wiser. Hughes might even be a fraction older than Davison (I think the only other time that happens is with Tennant and Tate) and it has a profound difference on the type of show Doctor Who is – it’s another component of the argument for an older companion because every time it occurs it works so well. Their chemistry is immediate and hugely enjoyable to experience. It breaks my heart to see him say his goodbyes to Todd and head back to the three impatient brats waiting outside the TARDIS.

Mouth on Legs: Does the Mara latch onto Tegan because it senses the aggression in her mind? Or is it simply because she was the one who heard the chimes playing on the breeze? In a sequence that is supposed to be nightmarish for a very different reason, the thought of countless Tegan’s being whisked into existence gives me the screaming abdabs. Janet Fielding is acting her socks off during the sequences in Tegan’s mind, especially during the moment when the Mara extinguishes her form and she is trapped in the darkness. There is a really feeling of panic and terror. She agrees to the Mara borrowing her form purely because she is afraid and she wants to wake up. Her scream when the transference takes place is sudden, like a snake lashing out to bite. Fielding vamps it up as the Mara possessed Tegan and it is a pleasingly flirtatious and intimidating spin on the usual grouchbag that we have to endure. What a shame the mental menace transfers to Aris so quickly as found Fielding’s interpretation much more agreeable. After three episodes of being accompanied by the extremely agreeable Todd, Tegan and the Doctor are reunited and she’s immediately griping (‘What’s going on? Who are these people?’). Talk about coming back down to Earth with a bang.

Boy Genius: The production makes Adric look the fool for thinking the surface of Deva Loka is beautiful when it’s clearly anything but. He’s also daft enough to go wandering off on a new planet, get trapped in the wake of alien technology and is the one responsible for their imprisonment in the Dome. This is also the third story in a row where he has sided with the bad guy against the Doctor (whether through choice or against his will…and some might argue that here it was to affect their escape). The boy is a liability. Bailey tries to inject some of that Artful Dodger charm into the boy by giving him magic tricks to perform but he’s so smug with it I just wanted the Doctor to punch him so hard until his nose bled profusely. When Adric agrees with Hindle that the plants are the danger, the Doctor looks crestfallen but that could just be Davison unable to hide his disappointment at Waterhouse’s unconvincing portrayal. The Doctor dumps him at the first opportunity, calling Adric resourceful but I think he meant turncoat. Watch out for the bitch fight between Adric and Tegan in episode four that was inserted to pad out the running time; two unlikable companions, hissing at each other nonsensically. It’s empty dialogue played by empty actors. I would have let the episode under run.

Alien Orphan: Continuing the early Hartnell era theme that runs riot through season nineteen (the links between stories, the overcrowded family in the TARDIS), one of the regulars takes a two episode holiday. Nyssa disappears from the action for a long nap before popping up at the end of the story once the other two regulars have had a decent amount of exposure. Oh if only it could have been Adric.

Unhinged Hindle: I cannot fault the effort of Simon Rouse in Kinda who gives what is possibly one of the most chilling portrayals of a man having a nervous breakdown ever seen on Doctor Who. When you compare it to the comic excesses of David Daker’s Rigg in Nightmare of Eden and Graeme Crowden’s Soldeed in The Horns of Nimon (who are both in similar states of balancing precariously on the edge of insanity and then tipping over the edge due to stimulants in the story) it is a performance packed with nuance and meaning. He manages to go over the top in a very believable way and that is not as easy as you might think, offering up a childlike madness and unpredictability that is genuinely frightening. It is clear from the very first scene that Hindle is edgy and nervous, Hindle’s gag with the mask missing the mark by a country mile. He parades around the Dome trying to boost his confidence but is mocked by all and sundry, even when he quotes the law (of which he is perfectly within his rights to do) he has it thrown in his face. It’s that barely restrained anger that sets my teeth on edge, which turns to outright fear when he smashes up Todd’s laboratory, unable to contain himself anymore. We’ve seen authorities figures in Doctor Who lose their temper before but this is the sheer unhinged violence of a man who just wants to hurt somebody. The thought of leaving him in charge of the others after we have had a sneak peek into his psychological stability is quite frightening. ‘I have the power of life and death over all of you!’ He’s a man who likes playing at being in charge because he knows he never will be. He admits proudly that when he was a boy he was beaten every day but professes it never did him any harm, when we can see the result of this treatment. The sequence when Hindle collapses screaming for his mummy to make the bad man go away is genuinely destabilising moment for the character and a revelation for the audience. Hindle was beaten, he’s terrified of authority figures because of it and now he is reverting to childhood pleading as Sanders returns to the base. This is working on so many levels. Hindle is pushed so far into madness that the only way forward for his character is to heal and the mental repair offered by the box of Jhana doesn’t come a moment too soon. To see him so at peace with himself is far what the climax of this adventure is about for me than the destruction of that ruddy great snake.

Sparkling Dialogue: ‘An apple a day keeps the uhhh – no, never mind…’

‘No, no…the trees have no mercy.’

‘If the Kinda are more sophisticated than they first appear then is it not possible that their enemies are also?’

‘Was what we just saw the future or the past?’ ‘Both.’

‘Don’t be silly! You can’t mend people, can you? You can’t mend people!’ – one of the best lines in Doctor Who’s long history. Hindle’s psychosis and fear of never recovering laid bare.

‘I think paradise is a little too green for me as well.’

The Good:

• The dialogue is astonishingly mature throughout, a cut above what we are used to in Doctor and certainly during this era. Todd and Hindle discuss not only how they should view the Kinda but how the Kinda might view them, with the former worried that they have made a bad impression and the latter not giving a damn as long as they behave themselves. The Kinda themselves are an intriguing species; telepathic and empathic, with mute males and gifted females and daughters with seven fathers.  Technically clever in some ways and primitive ands superstitious in others (they think Hindle has captured their souls in a mirror).
• One of the finest scores in Doctor Who’s long history. I am a massive fan of Murray Gold’s soundtracks for the new series but I do think he could do well to look over his shoulder and see the subtler, brooding and menacing scores that were created by his forbears in the stuffiest of conditions. Peter Howell was a breath of fresh air after the staleness of Dudley Simpson’s repetitive cues in the latter Tom Baker era, like opening a window in a musty old attic and reminding the audience that there was still wonder, excitement and scares to be found in Doctor Who. I love the hypnotic sting that accompanies the epiphany of opening the box of Jhana and also the disturbing notes of Boys and Girls Come out to Play that accompanies Sanders’ return to the Dome. Howell’s score for the sequences in Tegan’s mind is sparse and uncompromising and about as scary as music ever got in the classic series. The climax is similarly excellent, the Mara’s manifestation is accompanied by a mixture of rattles and shrill screams that drives home the nature of the creature.
• The one area of design that works perfectly is the Dome, not only because it is packed full of lovely detail that makes the place looked lived but because of the general flat packed look of the place…that is because it is flat packed and his been shipped from Earth to be as functional as possible.
• The sequences in Tegan’s mind have been over hyped by every person that has ever seen this story that you have to start to wonder if they can ever live up expectation. But they do. And they are the moments where Kinda truly shines and pushes to be something so different from the norm that you sit up and pay attention. The first zoom into Tegan’s eye, her looking over her shoulder in pitch darkness, the spectres of death playing chess in her mind, laughter in the blackout, the constant teasing and manipulations of the Mara who wants her to agree to the creature of the mind borrowing her form…Doctor Who rarely heads down a metaphysical path like this and it has never been this scaled by and nightmarish before. Picked out crisply in the darkness by intense spotlights and with hallucinatory dialogue that worms its way into your mind, this silly science fiction show feels as though for a few short scenes as though it has reached psychological maturity. ‘You will agree to be me sooner or later, this side of madness or the other…’
• Doctor Who is known for it’s occasionally hammy performances. It is also well known for strong actors giving riveting performances in well chosen roles. In Kinda you have both examples side by side during the Panna/Karuna sequences. In Mary Morris you have an intense, committed performance, stressing the theatrical nature of the part by unearthing nuances while she does. I literally cannot take my eyes off her. With Sarah Price you have a second rate am dram performance from an actress that stresses every line as though it might be her last and who manages to sink some of the more intense moments in the story with her shrill outpourings.
• The simple mystery of what is in the box makes for a memorably small cliffhanger that is well dramaticised. I love the little toy that comes leaping out. It’s almost a symbol for all those empty moments of jeopardy that make up the majority of the cliffhangers during the eighties.
• My favourite sequence in Kinda comes at the end of episode three. It encapsulates everything that is weird and wonderful about this tale (plus features three of it’s greatest assets – Peter Davison, Neyrs Hughes and Mary Morris) and highlights the star contributor to this tale, director Peter Grimwade. Not a popular man amongst the actors (but then if you take the time to watch all the documentaries on the DVDs all of the better directors never were, obviously too busy trying to make the show as good as possible to stroke the actors egos at the same time) but producing four unforgettable tales, Grimwade might be mostly remembered for his action epic Earthshock but I would argue that his most creative work can be found in Kinda. Watch as the Doctor and his one-off assistant Todd step into a hallucinogenic prophecy of the future featuring some imagery so trippy that you might think you have swallowed down an overdose of mind altering drugs. The Kinda flap and panic as mist descends over the forest, clocks from all periods stand atop plinths and count down to destruction, Panna oversees Armageddon with her arms stretched wide and the Jester is gripped by a powerful unseen force which laughs as it drags him down into the mist. It is a wildly unusual sequence for Doctor Who but tells the story with little explanation through visual description with some aplomb. The music is lingering, the pace furious and Davison and Hughes express appropriate horror at the fate that awaits them.  Anybody who says that Doctor Who cannot be visually startling on a budget go and watch this mindfuck of a dreamscape and crawl back to your hole. It rather makes a mockery of the production values of the rest of the story.
• The idea of reducing grown men to the psychological stability of children and giving them explosives to play with chills the blood. ‘Boom!’
• In a story full of overstatement, Panna’s death is gloriously downplayed. Even Karuna’s newfound wisdom now that she has absorbed her memories makes the event a triumphant one.
• This story is so frustrating, how it swings from sublime to embarrassing and back to sublime again. The ‘you can’t mend people!’ exchange is phenomenally revealing but is followed by an appalling action sequence that sees Davison and Rouse collapse into a load of tatty cardboard boxes…and that is followed immediately by a breathtakingly tense exchanged between Hindle and Todd (‘Are you frightened of me?’ ‘Terrified’).
• I haven’t mentioned Richard Todd. He is fabulous.

The Bad:

• I’ve heard every excuse under the sun about the duff production values that plague this story but none of them wash because said same people are usually criticising other stories for the very same reason they are trying to defend Kinda. This is a deliberately theatrical show with a deliberately theatrical look. The forest sets look fine for the amount of time and money they had to construct them in. Not when you compare them to the gorgeous forest location work in the next story nor the exquisite, authentically misty and alive forest set built for Creature from the Pit just two seasons back. There is a tang of artificialness running right through Deva Loka which made it very hard for me to connect to the setting and it’s importance to the story. It looks like a BBC studio with pot plants covering an unconvincing backdrop and leaves barely disguising the studio floor. The lightning is the biggest hindrance, not subtle or drenched in shadows to suggest any overhanging trees or vines and I never got any sense that there was verdant life existing within the foliage despite the wealth of sound effects. It is a good job that the story and performances are so good to constant distract you from the fact that Deva Loka looks one hundred percent fabricated but it is a genuine problem that you have to be distracted. A forest in a studio? So many planets have run to this theme that Doctor Who should be a dab hand at this sort of thing by now. I love the idea of the wind chimes and the sound effects designer certainly has a field day making the notes as evocative as possible but when you can see they are strips of cheap plastic hanging from a set it loses its magic somewhat.
• Unfortunately the design inefficiency stretches to the props as well with the TSS machine proving particularly cumbersome and unrealistic. There is simply no way you could hope to traverse the uneven surface of a forest world in such a unwieldy and cramped device. It wobbles perilously up the ramp into the Dome as though it is going to fall over at any minute, unable to perform the simplest of tasks. And the less said about those crappy cardboard guns, the better.
• Once again the staging issues infect the costume design also with the Kinda, supposedly a ragtag bunch of primitives living outside turning up looking like they have just stepped from a shampoo commercial with lusciously voluminous locks, spanking clean clothes and not a lick of dirt around their faces. Some of the production errors in Kinda you can forgive for the usual round of excuses but in this case it feels as though there has been no meeting between the writer, director and designer to match up the ideas in the script and the visual on screen. The Kinda look like am dram primitives that take a bubble bath every day and get Persil non bio delivered from Earth on a regular basis. How can the audience be shocked by a primitive culture understanding the basis of genetics when it is clear they have a shampoo and set every other day. Sorry if it sounds like I am being facetious but these are genuine flaws in this production that should be addressed. Even the snakes drawn on the arm look like they’ve been done at a third rate funfair by a drunken clown.
• Adrian Mills is very keen to point out the acting deficiencies of certain other members of the cast, which is quite extraordinary given the own execution of his role. Would you like some pickle with that ham? ‘I…have…spoken! Seize them!’
• Countering the exquisite dream sequence at the end of episode three is the toe curling action scene in episode four where Adric is trapped in the TSS. Doctor Who is rarely this embarrassing. The shoddily designed piece of apparatus jiggles about whilst the Kinda dance on the spot in an attempt to look menacing, the Jester does some cartwheels, Adrian Mills overacts horribly and Matthew Waterhouse some still manages to be the worst thing about it (looking for all the world like he is about to burst into laughter when he is supposed to be terrified). Grimwade’s worst moment in the directors chair.
• I wont even go into detail because it is so well documented. All I’ll say is…the giant snake. For all you purists that wont use the CGI features on the DVDs, you are definitely missing out with Kinda.

The Shallow Bit: Nerys Hughes turns up with her blouse provocatively opened, her hair screaming sexy scientist and with spectacles that she borrowed from Deirdre Barlow. It’s enough to get every teenage boy in the audience hard in less time than it would if you gave them an unlimited budget in Forbidden Planet. If you’re a fan of hairy chests then this story should be right up your street. Adric being tortured might please the SM crowd but Waterhouse’s poor acting might distract.

Result: Hindle smashing up Todd’s laboratory. An insidious invasion into Tegan’s mind. The hallucinatory vision of the end of the world. There are some extraordinary sequences in Kinda that pretty much justify the almost universal praise that the story is lavished with. I just wanted to get that off my chest before I add my personal issues with the tale. Sometimes I think Kinda is the ultimate expression of having to suspend your beliefs in order to reap the rewards in Doctor Who. Imagine if you switched on to the series for the first time at the beginning of episode two and you were faced with a man in a silly costume holding a cardboard gun in what is clearly a cardboard set apparently raving about the power and life of death over everybody. As a non-fan it would probably confirm all your worst fears. And yet context is everything. If you had seen Hindle’s slow descent into madness, if you knew that the Dome was supposed to flat packed, if you understood that the gun is just a symbol and that Hindle himself is a far more dangerous weapon… the trouble is you shouldn’t have to dig that deep to be able to overlook all these flaws. You should be able to switch on and what the show without making allowances. You wouldn’t have to do it in Castrovlava just gone or Earthshock to come. You get the impression that those involved are not happy with the finished product. Christopher Bailey considers the production values failed his ambitious script and that he was too pretentious with some of his Buddhist allegories and names, Janet Fielding points at her performance and says that you can see that she is acting whereas Nerys Hughes pulls off the same feat effortlessly and everybody agrees on the commentary that the whole thing is a bit creaky and let down by the way that TV was made at the time. The trouble is, they’re all right. When Peter Grimwade is able to turn the lights down and focus on the actors his direction is typically excellent, inspired even. But under the harsh glow of the studio lights many of the scenes set in the forests of Deva Loka lose any atmosphere and come across as theatrical, so much so that I would even call them mannered. I certainly never got the sense of paradise that the script is clearly aiming for. A garden centre paradise perhaps. Kinda is maturely written, extraordinarily well acted (bar one or two examples) and features some stunning direction. It is also overly pretentious, artificial looking and threatens to lose it’s audience with it’s obscure Buddhist symbolism. Whilst some might declare it the finest Doctor Who story of all time, I couldn’t possibly agree. Some scenes are positively vintage Who, others are the show at it’s nadir. I appreciate the intelligence and maturity but deride the technical limitations and pretentiousness. I wouldn’t want the show to stop trying to make stories like this though, it pushes the envelope in the most fascinating of ways: 7/10