Dalek... oh sorry, Cold War

How do you reintroduce an old monster to the new series? You stick one of them in an isolated base. Chain it up as an helpless captive, only to have it escape. Make it so badass that it is unstoppable. Have it open up its armour so that we can all see what it looks like inside. Have it poised to destroy the world, but then have the female companion show compassion towards it and talk it out of killing everybody. That was how the Daleks were reintroduced and Cold War follows exactly the same format. It doesn't exactly feel fresh or original.

The real problem with this story is its utter predictability. You stick an Ice Warrior on a nuclear submarine and you know exactly what is going to happen right from the beginning. The Ice Warrior will try to use the missiles to blow up the world, but will be talked out of it, probably by Dr. Who's female companion.

It does not help that the character's are not terribly interesting. We have the sympathetic captain and the paranoid and bellicose lietenant (in other stories these two character tropes can be switched around). The professor is a rather problematic character. Is he a zoologist? If so, what is he doing on a nuclear submarine? His liking for 80s pop seems designed to anchor the episode to that period in the perception of viewer, but feels very lacking in authenticity. A Soviet nuclear submarine would have it's crew closely monitored for subversive politics. The professor would not have dared to flout such an interest. If he did have a western music with him, I suspect he would be less likely to be listening to the latest chart pop and more likely to be listening to older music like the Beatles. Worst of all, we have the sailor who decides to disobey orders and thaw out the Ice Warrior for no obvious reason.

There has been a lot of debate about whether the cast should have attempted Russian accents. I think that I am more on the side of the viewers who felt they should. The submarine crew did not feel very Russian at all. Sometimes viewers need a bit of help with these things.

Having the Ice Warrior leave its armour was rather interesting and an original idea. However, it seems odd that the species would develop a remote control device for the armour when they ordinarily never get out of it. It also seemed a little gratuitous and underwhelming to show a full view of the creature's face.

Clara's personality continues to slowly develop, but she is not terribly interesting. She still feels very much like a generic, scared but plucky companion, just like Sarah Jane Smith.

One last thing, the Doctor looks totally wrong wearing sunglasses. He looks very Matt Smith in them, but not very Doctorish at all. It was almost as bad as Pertwee in a t-shirt.

The Reign of Terror

There is a very significant conversation at the end of The Reign of Terror. Barbara suggests that they might write a letter to Napoleon explaining the futility of his ambitions. Susan replies that if they had, Napoleon would either fail to read it or conclude its writer was mad. This is the strongest statement in Doctor Who of the immutability of history. When Dr. Who says in The Aztecs that you can't change history, one could always retcon that and argue that he means one should not or must not change history. However, Susan's statement at the end of this serial indicate in the strongest terms that history cannot be changed.

While later writers have moved away from the notion of history's immutability, to some extent it does make sense that history does not normally change in the Whoniverse. When Dr. Who arrives on Dulkis, he says that it is a peaceful planet. He assumes a prior knowledge of events on that planet that have not changed. Likewise, when Romana arrives on Tara, she assumes that the outfit she picks will still be in fashion and that Taran fashions have not changed as a freak result of some temporal interference. Yet the immutability of history does present a dilemma in terms of telling historical Doctor Who stories. We see this particularly in The Reign of Terror, in which the writer ends up simply telling a story about a contrived series of perils in which the characters are placed, with only a very superficial reflection on the historical events.

An Unearthly Child was an historical reflection on the inter-TARDIS power struggles, Marco Polo was an epic about the beautiful grandeur of history and The Aztecs was a cosmic drama centered on the inevitability of history. The Reign of Terror, in contrast to these stories, is a collection of historical set pieces, some dark, some comic. I think the tone is more even than the rather overrated Romans, but it feels more drawn out than that flawed story.

For the most part, The Reign of Terror is lacking in meaningful reflection on the fascinating subject matter it covers. On the surface it might appear to be heavily biased against the French Revolution (being an ultraconservative monarchist, that should not really bother me!). However, the revolutionary side is given its say in Leon, villain though he is. Barbara later offers some sympathy for Leon and his revolutionary comrades. Her comments are interesting because they raise difficulties with the historical Doctor Who genre. Frequently in historicals, the TARDIS crew take sides as a matter of convenience with little regard to the right or wrongs of each party. This self-serving tendency comes across as particularly manipulative in The Time Meddler, where the crew effectively enlist the locals to ensure the conquest of their own nation.

The Reign of Terror is the first story in which we see Dr. Who's mischievous nature coming out. Throughout this serial, he seems to delight in meddling for its own sake. This is facilitated by his impersonating a revolutionary official, the first incident of Dr. Who adopting the guise of a person in authority, something that would become a regular part of his modus operandi.

It is unfortunate that Susan was so ill served by writers, but it in this story that she gets her worst scripting. She spends nearly all of the story either ill or whining and crying. She is so pathetic that she refuses to try to escape the guillotine because she is terrified of rats. Bizarrely, Barbara just accepts this. I'm sure I'm not the only viewer who wants to see Barbara slap the girl and tell her she will die if she doesn't start acting sensibly.



The Reign of Terror is not the most impressive of the Hartnell historicals, but it is a worthy landmark in the development of the show and paved the way for more sophisticated historicals such as The Massacre and The Gun Fighters. It is also the more enjoyable for the fact that here the characters are forced to rely on their wits, while in the current series, every problem is solved with some mysterious piece of technology or just the wave of a the sonic screwdriver.

The Rings of Akhaten

The Rings of Akhaten was as flawed and problematic as any Moffat-Who story, yet I found myself enjoying this episode. It seems like such a long time since I have actually felt any enjoyment in watching Nu-Who.

The episode unfortunately begins with an horrible intro in which Dr. Who is spying on Clara's parents. I'm really bothered by the this development of the Doctor as a stalker. This seems to be one of the worst examples of Moffat's sexism.

Nevertheless, things pick up when we actually go to an alien planet, populated by aliens, with no humans around. This is something that was really badly needed. It is remarkable that so many Nu-Who stories, even under RTD, were set on Earth despite the fact that the TARDIS can go anywhere in the universe. We have seen so little of Dr. Who actually exploring and when we have met future humans, they have tended to dress and act like Twenty-first century British people. Of course, in this episode Dr. Who acts like a cosmic know-it-all as usual, but at least he was showing us something alien.

The Rings of Akhaten was a visual feast, with so many alien creatures and fantastic special effects. While I usually complain about the Murray-Gold music, here it was used to good effect and the role of the singing created a genuinely magical feel. This was a vast improvement on A Christmas Carol, where the musical element seemed tagged on artificially.

Plot-wise, it was a different story, with an unsatisfying resolution, a lack of clear explanation and a lot of sonic screwdriver waving. I suppose that was hardly a surprise, but it did not detract from my genuine enjoyment of the lavish visual and musical elements.

We don't get any real character development for Clara. All we learn about her is that she had a mother who loved her and who died. But were we expecting any?

It was nice to get a reference to Susan.

I'm surprised that this episode has gone down so badly with so many viewers. I thought it was a lot stronger and more enjoyable than the previous episode.

The Bells of St John

Is Moffat actually trying any more? What struck me about this story is how little one can really say about it. It is simply so generic and formulaic and so built on standard Moffat tropes that there is simply nothing of any real interest to say.

We see the unfortunate return here of the techno-menace gimmick. The idea that a piece of common place technology has a sinister purpose has been used rather a lot in the BBC Wales series. The problem with this trope is the inherent techno-phobia in it. There is nothing about wi-fi technology that is morally questionable and there is nothing about it that raises interesting intellectual dilemmas. Thus, making it a plot element is utterly uninspiring. It is gimmicky and gives the impression that the writer is afraid of the internet.

The lack of any moral complexity is seen furthermore when the villain, Miss Kizlet turns out to have been under some form of possession or mind control. While her transformation from a terrifying villain to a frightened child was dramatically impressive, it removed the need for her character to have any human motivation that could be explored. There has been a lack of any interesting human villains in the series of late and the discovery that Kizlet was somehow possessed came as a big disappointment.


The big event of this story is the arrival of Clara as a companion proper. Clara is the dream companion for a lazy writer like Moffat. This is her third appearance, yet she is essentially three different characters with a vaguely similar personality. There is no need for the writer to make any attempt to give her a real personality beyond being flighty, cute and sexy. Is anybody really interested in the mystery of who she is?


I really struggled to follow this story. It was so fast and not a little confusing. It does not help that much of the dialogue is easily drowned out by the loud score. One thing that certainly surprised me was that given the difficulty of squeezing the plot into forty-five minutes, so much filler material was included. What was the point of the medieval monastery scenes? What did they actually add? Why the aeroplane scene? That time could have been more effectively used fleshing out the plot.


This episode offered plenty of action and a few funny lines, but nothing more.

The Deadly Assassin

In the view of many fans, the great sin of The Deadly Assassin's is its revision of the Time Lords. The all powerful Time Lords of The War Games are replaced with a cast of senile Oxford dons and Anglican bishops. Being the first substantial portray of Dr. Who's home planet, this story must have come as something of a disappointment for many long term viewers.

As a young fan, my perception of Gallifrey was shaped by the post-Deadly Assassin stories. The Invasion of Time was one of my favorite Target novels, and The Five Doctors was the first VHS release that I watched. I was rather disappointed by the lack of Chancellory Guards and Staser guns in The War Games.

As an older fan, my enthusiasm for Chancellory Guards and Staser guns has waned. I have come to prefer the idea that the Time Lords are a god-like race with incredible power. There is a lot in The Deadly Assassin that I dislike. Yet I still find something likable about the idea of the senior Time Lords being a bunch of Oxford academics. It is also undeniable that the visual iconography established in The Deadly Assassin has become a fundamental part of the show. The genius of Lawrence Miles can be seen in the way he has combined Robert Holmes' Gormenghast Time Lords with the elemental Time Lords of the The War Games. In a clever nod to The Deadly Assasin, his Book of the War tells us that the senility of the senior Time Lords is just an act:

"their mumbling, even their occasional deafness is often quite carefully orchestrated. Nowhere on the Homeworld is there a House so ready to work its will by planting the correct whisper in the relevant ear, by making murmured suggestions so subtle that after the fact nobody remembers who spoke. While House Dvora moves with an efficient unstoppable openness, the mandarins of Lineacrux are so softly spoken, so serene, so elderly that in this brutal new War age even those who should known better rarely remember how ruthless these 'senile old men' might possibly be."

It must be pointed out that the view of the Time Lords given in The Deadly Assassin was not a sudden departure. The Three Doctors had shown them to be less than all-powerful, and Genesis of the Daleks and Brain of Morbius had shown them to have a shifty side. This development shows a considerable departure from how the Dr. Who's relationship with his people was originally conceived. The Hartnell Doctor was an exile, but from the beginning he showed a genuine desire to return to his homeworld. When Susan speaks about her planet, it is described as a beautiful place, with its burnt orange sky and silver trees. The Gallifrey of The Deadly Assassin seems such a miserable and grim place that it is hardly a surprise that Dr. Who would want to leave it. If Gallifrey is like that, there is no longer any sense that the Doctor has suffered loss or sacrificed anything in leaving it. For this reason, I very much prefer the idea that Gallifrey is a beautiful and magnificent place, whatever the faults of its ruling elite.

If this serial can be forgiven for its depiction of Gallifrey, and I'm not sure it can, it cannot be forgiven for its appallingly badly thought out plot. The Master's scheme makes no sense and the Time Lords society makes even less. Are we really expected to believe that the Time Lords have been completely unable to figure out the nature of the Rod and Sash of Rassilon and that they have no idea where their electricity comes from? I very much agree with the Prosecution case (presumably Lawrence Miles) in About Time, which castigates The Deadly Assassin's plot as utterly contrived:

"But perhaps the real trouble with "The Deadly Assassin" is that aside from the occasional snack-bite of political satire, everything here is so thoroughly contrived that it's alien in all the wrong ways. The script makes up new rules for Time Lord society minute-by-minute, so what chance does the audience have of feeling as if it's any of their concern? If the Doctor reaches a dead end then a new piece of Time Lord technology or custom can be invented to help him get to the next scene, and if characters aren't in the right places then they can be shifted around by Time Lord "traditions" which everybody knows about except the viewer."

For some reason fans seem to love episode three with the nightmare sequence in the APC Matrix. I don't understand why, as it does nothing to advance the plot and feels tediously long. I have a real dislike of dream sequences in fiction. If what the character is experiencing is not real, why should the viewer or the reader care about it? It is just a string of scary events strung together without actually going anywhere. What is more, this episode indulges the worst aspect of the Hinchcliffe era, a morbid delight in pain and cruelty. It is easy to laugh at Mary Whitehouse, but this episode pushes up the violence in the show to a level that is probably not quite appropriate for younger viewers. The BBC made a wise decision in bringing Hinchcliffe's producership to an end after this story.


What I enjoy most in this serial is Angus Mackay's performance as Borusa. Borusa is such a wonderful character, a school teacher turned into a Machiavellian politician. I love the way the schoolboyish way Dr. Who addresses him as 'sir.' There is such a deep sense of respect between the two characters, which adds to the beautiful poignancy when Davison's Doctor exclaims "What happened to you, Borusa?" in The Five Doctors.


For all its failings, The Deadly Assassin makes a bold attempt to tell a very different kind of Doctor Who story. We get to see the Doctor on his own planet, stripped of the reassurance of his scarf and without a companion to rely on. I don't like this story, but I appreciate the attempt to experiment and do what had not been done before.

Remembrance of the Daleks, by Ben Aaronovitch (Target novelisation)

I read the novelisation of Remembrance of the Daleks when I was a nine-year old fan, new to Doctor Who. Having avoided Doctor Who when it was on television, this was my first experience of the Seventh Doctor and Ace. I did not fully appreciate them, as I found this novel very difficult and hard going. As a young fan, I preferred Target novels written By Terrance Dicks. They were so much easier to read than the more ambitious novelisations. Yet as an older reader, I find myself very much appreciating and enjoying the bold and creative style of the Remembrance of the Daleks novel. Its prose is very creative, particularly in those sections that attempt to write from a Dalek's perspective.

Remembrance of the Daleks adds to the original serial by fleshing out a lot of the characters and giving background. In some cases it's not altogether necessary, but it is interesting to get a more direct perspective from the writer. It's also interesting to read this having listened to the Counter-Measures audios that pick up on these characters and some of the details given in the novel. While the book has some sections set in ancient Gallifrey featuring Rassilon and Omega, we don't actually get that much more information about those events than we are told in the serial.

Prior to the Counter-Measures series, Rachel Jensen had been given two different post-Remembrance destinies. According to Who Killed Kennedy, she definitely retired in accordance with her stated intention in the script. However, in Millennial Rites, we are told she became scientific adviser to the Cabinet and was instrumental in the establishment of UNIT. My preference is for the latter version, Jensen does seem to be a bit young to be thinking about retiring. The novelisation, however, has her retiring and also implies that she marries Gilmore. So far Counter-Measures have not gone in that direction. It is also revealed that Jensen had a romance with Gilmore. Maybe I missed it, but I did not see any hint of that in Counter-Measures. To be honest, the whole idea of a romance between Jensen and Gilmore feels just too mundane and uninteresting. It feels disconcerting to read about it in the novel simply because there is no hint of it in the serial. Just watch Remembrance and try to imagine Gilmore and Jensen having a past history and feelings for each other. It just does not work.

The novel does a great job with Ace, showing the anger in her system over the racist attack on Manisha. I was late coming to the televised Seventh Doctor adventures and so my initial experiences of Ace were through this novel and the New Adventures. As a result of this, I viewed Ace as a very angry, angsty character. When I finally got round to seeing Seasons 25 and 26, I was rather surprised at the much milder, very children's television style Ace that was broadcast.

Remembrance of the Daleks is my favorite Doctor Who story and I think its novelisation is a worthy adaptation of it.

The Time Warrior

"Why don't you take off that ridiculous gear and go home to your butcher's shop!"


I watched this story on VHS in 1991 when I was ten years old. I think it might have been a birthday present. It was a story I was very keen to see back then and I enjoyed it a lot. When I bought the DVD, I expected to be a good deal less impressed and to find lots of faults with it (after all this a Pertwee/ Letts story!). Nevertheless, I was surprised to find myself enjoying it as much, if not more than I did aged ten.

It is this story which pretty much chrystalizes the pseudo-historical genre. It is perhaps unfortunate that this kind of story has become thought of as almost the default mode for Doctor Who (hence that dull runaround, The Visitation), yet here most of the elements involved work well. The story has something of a theatrical feel and though this is at odds with what the show often tries to do, this adds enormously to the charm and effectiveness of this serial.

What is most delightful about The Time Warrior is Robert Holmes' glorious script. Watching it, one feels as though every single line is priceless and more than half of them get a laugh out of me. Even more importantly, Holmes gives us a great cast of characters.

Linx, our first introduction to the Sontarans is also the best appearance of that race that we have seen in Doctor Who. Not only is his mask brilliantly realized, but Kevin Lindsay creates this character masterfully, offering not only a great vocal performance, but a real sense of an alien physiology in the way he moves. He is also, as some people have pointed out, a counterpart to the Pertwee Doctor, being stranded on Earth and acting as a scientific adviser to a bunch of soldiers.

Linx is made even more interesting by the fact that he is given an human counterpart in Irongron. Though Linx is an alien and Irongron is an Earthman, they are remarkably similar characters in their relish for military glory. Notice how their behaviour mirrors each other at the beginning of the story. When Irongron sees the 'falling star' he claims it as 'Irongron's Star.' When Linx steps out of his spacecraft, he claims planet Earth for the Sontaran empire. Every single scene shared by Irongron and Linx is a joy to watch. Their is such a beautiful chemistry between the two contrasting, but not dissimilar characters. As much as they may hurl insults at each other and desire the other's death, I am quite convinced that they both have a fondness for each other deep down.

Other characters are enjoyable too. Just watch how Blood Axe adores his captain! June Brown as Lady Eleanor is pleasantly Shakespearean in her performance. Rubeish is a little silly, but still fun. I don't know why Alan Rowe gets criticized in a lot of fan reviews for his performance as Sir Edward. The character he is playing is supposed to be rather pathetic and this comes across.

The Time Warrior is notable for the first appearance of Sarah Jane Smith, generally considered the most popular of companions among fans. Her portrayal is somewhat problematic, as Phil Sandifer argues on TARDIS Eruditorum. The presence of a feminist companion results in the Doctor becoming rather more sexist and patronizing than he was before. Sarah also comes across as remarkably stupid. Why on Earth does she conclude that Dr. Who is a spy? She sees him in conversation with the Brigadier, so it should be obvious to her that he is in a position of trust with the Brigadier. Spies generally try to be inconspicuous, yet the Doctor has a police box with him and flaunts bizarre gadgetry for everyone to see. There is an horrible sense that the viewer is being made to laugh at the stupid trendy modern girl.

There are other flaws to this story, most obviously the padded plot. The robot subplot feels unnecessary, as does the need for a final return trip to Irongron's castle. As with a lot of Doctor Who stories, there are a fair few holes in the plot. Some of these can be explained. I quite like the suggestion of Tat Wood in About Time that Sarah Jane Smith is working for UNIT as an investigator. This would explain how she breaches security so easily.

Linx's comment about Sarah's thorax was rather an eye opener for me when I watched this aged ten. Prior to this I had never noticed the different construction of the female thorax. Doctor Who can be educational!

The Time Warrior is simply one of the most enjoyable Doctor Who stories of the Seventies and one of the best of the Pertwee/ Letts era.

The Mind Robber

On paper, The Mind Robber sounds like a really fascinating concept. The idea of being turned into fiction is a remarkably ingenious existential terror. Yet I find The Mind Robber incredibly tedious to watch. It is very much one of those Doctor Who stories that is dearly loved by fans, but which is actually a bit rubbish.

The first episode was hastily written and tacked on. This is very much in evidence, as the episode does not gel neatly with the tone and plot of the other episodes. This episode has a surreal nightmarish quality that earns a lot of praise, but which does not disguise the fact that the story is not going anywhere. It is like Edge of Destruction without Hartnell and Hill to carry the story. The problem with nightmare sequences like this is that we know they are not real; they can never really engage the viewer. A child watching the apparent destruction of the TARDIS might be upset, but an intelligent older viewer can be pretty sure that this is just an illusion.

Things get worse in the next episodes, as the TARDIS crew meet one bizarre peril after another- tin soldiers, being turned into a cardboard cut-out and mythical monsters. This rapidly becomes tedious, as there is no sense of narrative or plot development to it, but just a string of weird events, one after the other. I find it hard to understand how fans can enjoy repeat viewings of these episodes. Why care about a monster that does not exist and which disappears when you stop believing in it? These episodes go nowhere and the attempt at resolution proves unsatisfactory when it comes.

To be far to all involved, this was a production in which almost nothing went right and which was beset with problems. Despite these problems, all of the cast seem to be approaching the story with a sense of enthusiasm and fun. This is the spirit of Doctor Who, but it is still a rubbish story. It is also hard to overlook some of the shoddy design elements too, such as the naff Minotaur and the model shot of the forest that does not match the set.



It's a pleasure to watch Bernard Horsfall (I note sadly his recent passing away). As somebody who was born in Nottingham, I appreciated his attempt at the accent, even if he did not get it quite right. Rapunzel is really cute, but I get so annoyed when I hear her say she is a 'princess.' Rapunzel was not a princess! Did Peter Ling never read any fairy tales?

It is refreshing to have a Troughton story without an alien invasion, a returning monster or a base under siege. The Mind Robber was an attempt to do something genuinely different, but it's a story that fails badly in this and bores me to tears.

Genesis of the Daleks

My first experience of Genesis of the Daleks was listening to the audio recording. I was given the cassettes for Christmas in 1991, shortly before going on holiday to Cyprus. I was ten years old at the time. I later watched the repeat in 1993 and read the novelization again and again. The thing is, I loved Genesis of the Daleks not because I thought it was a great Doctor Who story (I have no idea what stories I considered to be great when I was ten or twelve; I probably did not think in those terms). The reason I liked Genesis was because it had lots of guns and Nazi-like uniforms. As a boy I loved guns and Nazi uniforms. I am one of those Englishmen who have a suspicious enthusiasm for Nazi uniforms. As an adult, I have rather fallen out of love with Genesis of the Daleks, even though I still quite like the look of Nazi uniforms.

I really do understand why people love this story so much. Great work from the regulars, an amazing performance from Michael Wisher as Davros, great direction, some nice designs and most of all, a sense of grand cosmic drama. Yet for all these strengths, quite a number of things really bother me about this story.

The biggest problem I have with this story is the basic premise. Dr Who is instructed by the Time Lord to prevent the creation of the Daleks. This seems to go against everything we know about these guardians of history. To eradicate the Daleks from history would surely completely disrupt the web of time, altering the very history of the universe. Yet Dr. Who says it is 'feasible.' Even though it would surely alter his own personal history? What would happen to Susan if there was no Dalek-ravaged earth for her to settle on? How would Ian and Barbara get back without the aid of the Dalek time machine? I understand the show has moved on from the sensible days when you couldn't change one line of history, but this is surely going a bit far. Maybe it was the Black Guardian in disguise, or Faction Paradox, or maybe the Time Lords were just having a laugh at the Doctor's expense. Perhaps they would have whisked the Doctor away if he had come close to actually destroying the Daleks. But that still doesen't explain how he thinks it is 'feasible.' You can try to retcon this and talk about the Time Lords foreseeing their own destruction in the Great Time War, but that is still a retcon at the end of the day. What we see in this story is at odds with everything that has gone before.

In general, I am not a big fan of origin stories. Sometimes they work, but they do run the risk of undermining their subjects. Sometimes an origin is best left to the imagination. We could never have a satisfactory origin story for Dr. Who himself. I do think that Genesis of the Daleks undermines the concept of the Daleks somewhat. In their debut serial, the Daleks were a kind of force of nature, a physical manifestation of the military devastation unleashed upon Skaro. Here they are reduced to the creation of yet another mad scientist. This is made worse by the return appearances made by Davros in future Dalek stories, overshadowing his creations.

I also dislike the crass literalism of this story. It has been obvious since the very second Doctor Who serial that the Daleks are supposed to be a bit like Nazis. Was it really necessary to make this obvious by making their forbears dress in fascistic uniforms and jackboots? The viewer is being treated like an idiot. This is the same kind of crass literalness that makes Azal look exactly like a traditional image of Satan, as if the viewer did not already get all the other Satanic references in The Daemons.

As with the Nazi uniforms, I think the serial goes a little too far in trying to capture the visual feel of the First World War. I really do appreciate the efforts to create the sense of a dark, brutal and hopeless environment. I also think the scene with the Thal soldier tormenting Sarah is essential. It shows that the Thals are just as bad as the Kaleds. In fact, they are probably the aggressors in this war, given that we are told in The Daleks that they were warriors, while the Daleks (Kaleds?) were philosophers and teachers. Yet I can't help thinking that the grim imagery is not how I like to see the Daleks. There is a definite sense of Sixties kitsch about the Daleks, that actually works well with their scariness. There is something comical about the Dalek appearance that makes them all the scarier and this does not work well with the darkness of the setting. I rather miss the original image of Skaro as a strange and exotic place. On this score, the origin story in TV21 fits the Daleks rather better.


It is often claimed that Genesis of the Daleks has a great moral depth. Moral depth my foot! Look at Dr. Who's famous 'Have I the right' speech. Prior to making this speech he had been quite happy to destroy the Daleks. Then as soon as he has made this speech, his Kaled allies tell him that will halt the Dalek production and presumably destroy the incubated Daleks. The Doctor is delighted. This makes him look like a moral coward who prefers others to do his dirty work. Then later he decides to blow up the incubator room. Finally, it turns out that destroying the incubator room won't stop the Daleks anyway. Can anybody see any meaningful contribution to ethical philosophy in all this?


In the end, Dr. Who claims that the Daleks have been set back a thousand years in their development. Really? Are the Daleks really unable to clear away a bit of rubble? The destruction of the incubator might seem more of a problem, but the Daleks don't seem worried about it, so they can probably breed some new embryos within a year or so. While the Discontinuity Guide absurdly claimed that Dalek history had been re-written after this story, Remembrance of the Daleks makes clear that the Dalek invasion of Earth happened on time. I think the events of Genesis change absolutely nothing. I think the Doctor is simply trying to make Sarah feel better.

It is rather hard to get past the absurdity of the idea that this is a war that has lasted thousands of years despite the fact that the Thal and Kaled cities are within walking distance of each other, especially given that weapons of mass destruction had originally been used to fight it. This is made even sillier when we find out that the Kaled have an hidden passage into the Thal city. This is a cardboard planet. When we first saw Skaro in The Daleks, it was a diverse place, with mountains, plateaus, petrified jungles and swamps. Now it is just a rocky battlefield (that looks like a quarry) and two cities. It is amazing how Skaro actually looked so much bigger in a television studio.

Just how rubbish is Davros' scientific elite? They have been in operation for fifty years (and not just working on Daleks), yet it is perfectly obvious that the Thals are technologically superior in every way. They have laser guns (courtesy of the Drahvins), they can build a rocket armed with distronic explosives and the Kaleds suspect them of using robots. You would think that somewhere along the line, the Kaled leaders would have asked Davros what he was doing with their funds.


Peter Miles has rightly been praised for his fantastic performance as Nyder. He really is a pleasure to watch in this story. Yet Miles' fantastic performance only draws attention to the lack of characterisation of Nyder. We are given no sense of Nyder's motivation. We want to know why Nyder is so fanatically loyal to Davros. It cannot be put down to blind fascistic loyalty, as Nyder has clearly made an active choice to give his loyalty to Davros over and above the Kaled government and military leadership.

One actor that deserves a bit of extra praise is Guy Siner as General Ravon. He's such a great character; I adore the way he can't deliver two sentences without launching into a speech. He's not altogether a bad guy, either, note his sympathy towards the Doctor in the Kaled city.


I don't deny that this production has it's strong points and is certainly enjoyable, yet it is a story I have major issues with and one that I do not care for. The Daleks was a much better story than this.

Ambassadors of Death

Ambassadors of Death is not the most highly regarded stories of the Pertwee era. It is not among the most well remembered stories of this period and is often considered to be the weakest story of Season 7. This is a real shame, as it seems to me to be among the best Pertwee serials (a short list in my opinion) and is a strong rival to Dr Who and the Silurians as the best story of Season 7.

What is so striking about Ambassadors of Death is how unlike typical Doctor Who this story feels. This story keeps its science fiction elements to the barest minimum possible since the era of Pure Historicals. We get only fleeting glimpses of the alien race and their spaceship. Instead of such fantastic trappings, the serial focuses on the more gritty and realistic elements of a near future society. This is a story foremost about brutal thugs, corpses being buried in quarries, paranoid generals and a space program that seemed realistic at the time. There is something very odd about watching the gun battle between UNIT and Carrington's goons- it feels like a different show with nothing to do with Doctor Who. This is the basic premise of Earthbound Season 7 taken up to the maximum level.

The influence of James Bond is apparent, with the presence of a multitude of gadgets, endless fights and escapes. Yet the serial strives to be much more than just Doctor Who doing James Bond. This is a story about the dangers of paranoia, xenophobia and militarism. But more than this, Ambassadors of Death is a story about the nature of space exploration. The influence of The Quatermass Experiment will be apparent to the educated viewer. The serial borrows many visual elements of Quatermass, such as the empty spacecraft and the sense of the mysterious otherness of the cosmos beyond our planet. Yet Ambassadors does not subscribe to the Quatermass view that outer space if a realm of of abject terror. The story offers the hope of peace between different planets. Nevertheless, Ambassadors portrays outer space as a realm of mystery beyond human comprehension. Ambassadors raises the question of whether humanity is ready or able to deal with that world of mystery. The trauma and mental breakdown of Carrington suggests the conclusion that humanity is too petty and small in its concerns to face the beauty and magnificent wonder of space.

This is a story on an epic scale, taking us from a futuristic space centre to country roads and even to the vastness of space. It has production values that match this sense of scale. Watching it, I am struck at just how well everything is realised visually, even with the unfortunate continuity errors like Liz's hair-length and choice of tights. This is a story with plenty to look at and it does not let us down. With the addition of Havoc to the team, we get some wonderfully well orchestrated fights.

Ambassadors offers us some fantastic guest performances. Ronal Allen is memorable as the controller, Ralph Cornish. In a much smaller role, Michael Wisher, the future Davros, is astounding as the news correspondent. There is a beautiful intensity to his delivery of every line. John Abineri also gives a really subtle performance as General Carrington. Doctor Who has plenty of crazy villains, but Carrington is one who has clearly suffered a deep psychological scarring, and this comes across in his performance.

It is Reegan, however, who steals the show and becomes the most memorable hired thug in the history of Doctor Who. What is shocking about Reegan is the sheer casualness to the way he kills people. Unlike other Doctor Who toughs, he does not get angry and point guns at people. He is absolutely in control of every situation, even when he is finally dragged away. He has no big ambitions like taking over the world; he just wants to exploit the situation and make money. Just look at his excitement at the thought that he can break into banks at leisure- he looks like a child in a toy shop! The novelisation gives him a fitting background; he was an IRA terrorist who helped himself to the funds.

Pertwee seems a lot more settled into his role in this story than in the previous two serials. He plays it absolutely straight and it comes off well. I am not a fan of Pertwee's Doctor and he is obnoxious in quite a few places, such as his rudeness to Cornish. Caroline John's Liz gets a few good moments, but as with other stories, her character is horribly underused. She is mostly there to get captured and to escape.

Ambassadors of Death is by no means perfect. While the fights are great, I think it could have done with a lower body count. Doctor Who should not trivialize the death of characters, as it too often does. The story is a bit padded and probably became wearying over the weeks. The motives of Tatalian are also a bit unclear. I don't think this is the best story of Season 7, in my opinion Dr Who and the Silurians has a stronger plot. I do think, however, that it is better than the rather overrated Inferno. Compared to this serial, Inferno feels hopelessly like a standard Doctor Who story with green slime and a monster of the week.