October 2: Warriors' Gate Parts Three & Four

This story continues to impress, both in terms of the script and the visuals.  It looks gorgeous, with the inspired use of Tharils and Time Lords moving through black-and-white photographs, and the script is incredibly clever -- the scenes near the end of part three, which show the Tharils' empire at its height, mixed with their cobwebbed decline, are an intelligent example of scripted interlocking scenes brought to life by dynamic direction (and the touch of the Doctor in part three knocking over the over-flowing goblet that he had previously righted in the future is a fabulously subtle one) -- plus it gives us that great cliffhanger where the Doctor, who'd been previously with the Tharils just before the Gundans had attacked, suddenly finds himself back in the present, surrounded by Rorvik and his men.

The script also does clever things by making the wounded Tharil (Lazlo, according to the credits) friendly towards Romana, and by using the mirror as a gateway only for the Tharils (who've learned how to "travel on the time winds") and those they allow to pass with them.  Thus it's not a gateway that Rorvik can use, even though he's seen the Doctor pass through.  The portrayal of Rorvik's people (where he has to keep yelling at them to pay attention to him, while they're more focused on lunch) is also really well done; none of your well-oiled Star Trek-esque crews here, but a somewhat unruly bunch of slavers.

And it all comes together so well in part four, as the Doctor and Romana try repeatedly to stop Rorvik from destroying everything (which he's already doing by having an incredibly dense ship in the gateway), only to be repeatedly told by Biroc to do nothing ("It is done").  This means that we get some great scenes, such as the Doctor taunting Rorvik's crew with the MZ and the Doctor and Romana's futile efforts to stop Rorvik from initiating a backblast (because, as Romana puts it, "The backblast backlash will bounce back and destroy everything!"), which even allow Rorvik to get in some mad ranting ("I'm finally getting something done!").  Then there's the moment where Lazlo rescues all the imprisoned Tharils after killing Sagan -- who really has been quite ruthless in his attempts to revive a Tharil for navigational purposes, but who nevertheless dies in a surprisingly shocking way: it might be the open-mouthed scream left unvoiced, but it's quite a brutal death.  And, atypically for Doctor Who but entirely in keeping with this story, the Doctor and Romana finally realize that the solution really is to do nothing -- "if it's the right sort of nothing", as the Doctor puts it.

Biroc and Romana watch the TARDIS depart. (Warriors'
Gate Part Four) ©BBC

And at the very end, Romana decides not to travel on with the Doctor, but to help the Tharils free their enslaved brethren instead.  It's a bit sudden a departure (although there is some set-up in the story, particularly in part one), but it feels right, and the dialogue we get is so much better and neater than any more emotional, drawn-out scene would have been.  "What a moment to choose!" the Doctor cries.  "But it is, isn't it?" Romana replies.  "A moment to choose."  And so the Doctor gives her K-9 (who will presumably be repaired on the other side of the mirror) and the TARDIS leaves as Rorvik's backblast does indeed destroy everything.  "Will Romana be all right?" Adric asks afterwards.  "All right?  She'll be superb," the Doctor replies with a grin.  And farewell to K-9, a prop that the show has clearly become increasingly less fond of (witness K-9's treatment throughout season 18, and note that Warriors' Gate -- a story that includes him failing to shoot Rorvik and has Packard chucking him bodily out of the slaver ship -- is his best story of the season), but which is nevertheless still endearing.  Doctor Who has clearly moved on and outgrown the tin dog, but for much of the audience it just won't be the same without him.

It's a script that sparkles with class and wit (some great lines from parts three and four: "One solid hope's worth a cartload of certainties"; "Soon we won't be better off than that chap over there [indicating an ancient skeleton].  When the pickles run out"; "You've seen our past, you've seen our present.  You were right.  We abused our power.  But judge whether we've not suffered enough." "As you said, the weak enslave themselves." "The time of our enslavement is over"; and so many more), and it's beautifully directed by Paul Joyce (his only directorial job of Doctor Who, largely for the same reasons Lovett Bickford only directed The Leisure Hive¹¹³).  Chris Bidmead must have been thrilled to get a story like this, both poetic and scientific, as it's everything he's been trying to achieve this season.  It's frankly astonishing that this story isn't more highly regarded in fandom (115th out of 241 in the most recent Doctor Who Magazine poll), but that's okay; it will just take time, as more people discover (or rediscover) this gem of a tale.  The rest of us already know that Warriors' Gate is utterly fantastic.







¹¹³ Which, as my brother pointed out, I didn't actually explain.  Both Lovett Bickford and Paul Joyce, interested in providing a new dynamic look for the show, ended up falling behind schedule as a result of their directorial choices -- in Bickford's case, an additional (and expensive) studio block had to be booked.  This didn't happen on Warriors' Gate (possibly because it had happened on The Leisure Hive), but the result instead was, it seems, an increasingly tense production that was visibly taking its toll on Joyce -- and at one point apparently production assistant Graeme Harper took over a great deal of the work.  The visuals on both stories would seem to justify the problems (Nathan-Turner was pleased with how they both turned out), but nonetheless neither director was asked to return to the show.

October 1: Warriors' Gate Parts One & Two

You can tell right from the start that this is going to be something special; the slow pan around the "cargo" hold of Rorvik's ship, and then down the (graffitied) corridors and up to the bridge, shows that, if nothing else, Warriors' Gate will be a lot more interesting to look at than other shows -- the obvious comparison is with the look of The Leisure Hive.

But then the script really begins, and we see that just as much care has gone into the writing as into the direction.  The crew of Rorvik's ship seem much more realistic than other crews we've seen, with unenthusiastic cheers and problems going wrong with their navigation -- thanks to a leonine man strapped down in a chair.  The end result is a ship thrown through (into?) a time rift and ending up nowhere -- a problem that the crew of the TARDIS also face...

Warriors' Gate is full of striking imagery -- or at least these first two episodes are: the leonine man, Biroc, is constantly shown as a series of images (not unlike a flip-book) rather than with smooth movement ("He's out of phase," Romana says, as Biroc operates the controls of the TARDIS) -- as is the coin that one of the crew tosses right as they go into the time rift (less convinced about the zoom-in, though, which just ends up being a blocky, low-resolution digital blob); everything outside the TARDIS is a very effective white void; and the place where Biroc heads (followed by the Doctor) is a ruined stone structure that appears, like the TARDIS, to be bigger on the inside -- and that interior is as atmospheric a set, with lots of dusty cobwebs and abandoned furniture, as anything you might hope to see.  And not only that, but this story is full of great dialogue too: "We'll burn that bridge when we come to it"; "And why believe Biroc?" "Because he was running"; "All the gateways are one"... even the mundane dialogue seems to have an extra bit of sparkle to it.

Lane, Rorvik, and Packard examine the TARDIS. (Warriors'
Gate Part One) ©BBC

All this and an interesting storyline as well, with the mystery of the gateway combining with the casual villainy of Rorvik and his crew (particularly their treatment of the Tharils and of Romana) to create an engrossing couple episodes.  That white void and the gateway provide an interesting backdrop for two episodes that are, essentially, all about trying to get out of this place -- the Doctor is more interested in learning the secret of returning to N-Space than in the story of how the Gundans overthrew the Tharils long ago, but we the viewers are just as interested in both.  This is also Matthew Waterhouse's best performance yet -- he seems much more at home interacting with K-9 and behaving naturally with Romana than he does pretending to betray our heroes or delivering know-it-all dialogue (so maybe making his character a wunderkind was a bad move).

And while the first cliffhanger isn't anything too special, that second one is fantastic: the Doctor disappears inside a mirror, while Romana, still strapped into the chair that Rorvik left her in, is menaced by a badly-burned Tharil (thanks to Aldo and Royce's accidental electrocution while waking it up -- another example of casual villainy, as they don't care about bonuses the way the rest of the crew does if the Tharils are killed, as they're "on the all-in contract").  If that doesn't get the audience tuning in next week, I don't know what will.  (And what do you know, there was a 1.6 million increase in viewing figures between parts two and three.)

September 30: State of Decay Parts Three & Four

Camilla and Zargo hold Romana and the Doctor while Aukon listens
to the Great One. (State of Decay Part Three) ©BBC

This story really does an excellent job of evoking the mood of an old Hammer horror film while still retaining that scientific grounding that Bidmead prefers.  The Three Who Rule themselves are wonderful, looking like they've stepped out of a medieval castle, and the impending rise of their master, the Great One (not the leader of the Metebelis spiders), is treated as a cause for great concern, and it's not hard to imagine a version of this story during the Hinchcliffe years (or, indeed, as the opening story of season 15).

It's unlikely that there would have been quite such an emphasis on technology in that older version, though; the sequence with the Doctor telling Romana the legend of the Great Vampires would have probably remained the same (and can we just pause for a moment to talk about how wonderful it is when Tarak enters their cell to rescue them and smacks the Doctor in the face?  I'm still not sure how much of that was intentional and how much was accidental, but it makes me laugh every time I see it), and there would have been similarities with the stuff in the TARDIS and the Record of Rassilon, about how the king of the Great Vampires disappeared, but one wonders if the climax of the story -- the idea of using one of the Hydrax's scoutships as a giant stake -- would have been at all like what we get here.  And there's also the matter of using the old Hydrax scanner to see what the Great Vampire looks like, but probably the less said about that less-than-successful effect the better.  But those Record of Rassilon scenes are a nice touch, by making the Great Vampires into a threat that even the Time Lords took very seriously -- which means that they must be a grave threat indeed, and as viewers we put the king of them in the same category as Sutekh or the Fendahl ("If it escaped into our universe," the Doctor says at one point, "billions of lives would be lost").

Part four isn't quite as good just because it's concerned more with tying things up rather than continuing the mood.  There's also the odd subplot where Adric seems to be going over to the vampire side but not really, which just doesn't feel properly motivated in either the set-up or the execution.  And, finally, there's the way in which the Doctor builds up K-9 as "a very useful tool.  Armoured.  Immune to hypnotism. ... And a dead shot with a nose laser," only for K-9's appearance to be met with dubious looks and something of a "sad" cue from the music.  The show's not taking him very seriously anymore, is it?

However, the attack on the tower is pretty well staged, and the shots of the Great Vampire being "staked" by the Hydrax scoutship are surprisingly well done (particularly given the earlier shots of the vampire on the scanner).  And the deaths of the Three Who Rule are horrifying and effective -- it might be the best "turned to dust" effect we've ever seen on the series.

It's well-written and -directed, and the mash-up of styles (Dicks's older, Hammer horror-tinged approach, and Bidmead's more serious, scientific one) works very well, setting the vampires up as ancient powers preventing scientific knowledge and progress from blooming.  To be honest, it's hard to find much of anything really at fault with State of Decay.  So far this E-Space story arc has turned up trumps for the show.  Can they keep it up?

September 29: State of Decay Parts One & Two

Welcome back to Terrance Dicks, who hasn't written for the show since 1977's Horror of Fang Rock -- which was itself a last-minute replacement for his vampire tale The Witch Lords.  And this story is in fact that same Witch Lords script, dusted off and revised for the current TARDIS team.  The upshot is that for the first time in a while, we get another Gothic horror-style story.

Well, except that this is now being edited by scientifically-minded Christopher H. Bidmead, which means that there's a tension between fantasy and science in this story, with the Three Who Rule holding back the development of the peasants by forbidding any sort of scientific knowledge.  Bidmead was reportedly very unhappy with the more fantastic elements and kept stripping them out, only for director Peter Moffatt to keep putting them back in.  But the final result is a good balance between the two positions, with the more horror/fantasy elements placed in opposition to the peasants' attempts to acquire forbidden knowledge.

Another advantage this story has is that the production team has made a concerted effort to rein in Tom Baker and Lalla Ward, which means that there's a seriousness to events that probably would have been missing a year before.  The danger that the Three Who Rule represent is much more palpable as a result, and when combined with the moody direction from Moffatt, the result is a compelling story.

It's not perfect, of course; there are some draft artifacts from earlier incarnations that get some emphasis (namely that the Three in the tower protect the peasants from something called the Wasting) before being completely forgotten (so good luck figuring out what the Wasting is about), and there's also Adric.  He's stowed away, it seems, and worryingly, his first scene shows that he can't even walk across the TARDIS console room convincingly, instead smiling fatuously and deliberately looking at nothing as he jauntily strides across the room.  It's a cringe-inducing moment, and while it doesn't seem to be the norm for the remainder of Adric's scenes in these first two episodes (in which he veers from acceptable to quite good), it doesn't exactly endear him to the audience. 

But his interaction with the script is actually quite limited thus far, and it's far more interesting to watch the Doctor and Romana, as they discuss Grimm's law and the implications of language change in regards to the crew's original names and that of their descendants¹¹², and then go about exploring the tower (which is actually an Earth vessel called Hydrax, which, weirdly, seems to have left in the 1990s), discovering some nasty things along the way.  All the bats, stored blood, and general oddities of the three leaders have brought the Doctor to some unpleasant conclusions: "Do you know, it just occurs to me; there are vampire legends on almost every inhabited planet. ... Creatures that stalk in the night and feast on the blood of the living.  Creatures that fear sunlight and running water and certain herbs.  Creatures that are so strong they can only be killed by beheading, or a stake through the heart."  And while they're trying to work out why they can hear a giant heartbeat down at the base of the tower, they're confronted by Aukon, the chancellor member of the Three Who Rule, in the cliffhanger to part two.  "You are in the resting place," he says.  "I am Aukon.  Welcome to my domain."







¹¹² It's a good thought, but there are some anomalies if we take seriously the Doctor's suggestion that this is Grimm's law at play -- it would be incredibly strange, for instance, for the [k] in "Sharkey" ([ʃa:ki]) to become the [g] in "Zargo" ([za:go]), as that's the exact opposite direction of the law (in which voiced stops like [g] becomes voiceless like [k]).  Still, at the very least it shows that someone (likely Bidmead) was thinking about this topic, and maybe it caused kids to look up Grimm's law, in the spirit of the best Hartnell historicals, and thus introduce them to the broader idea of language change.  Well, I looked it up, at least.

September 28: Full Circle Parts Three & Four

Adric and the Doctor check on Romana in her room. (Full
Circle Part Three) ©BBC

Full Circle continues to impress in its last two parts, as we learn more about Mistfall and the Alzarians.  There's also some drama with Romana being infected and somehow linked telepathically with the Marshmen.  Well, the Marshchild, at least.  It's genuinely distressing, seeing Dexeter beginning his scientific operation on the unanesthetized Marshchild over the Doctor's protests ("That's not scientific understanding, it's cold-blooded murder!"), and while it's a bit difficult to feel bad for Dexeter when the Marshchild breaks free and kills him, it's much more affecting when the Marshchild sees the image of the Doctor, the only person who showed it any kindness, and electrocutes itself breaking the screen in an effort to get to him.  This would be something of a feat even if it were a person, but the fact that it's someone who looks like a monster makes it even more impressive.

But then Full Circle is full of moments like this, deaths that seem to mean more than just cannon fodder for the Marshmen.  Varsh's death is obviously a crucial moment for Adric, as Varsh is the only family he has, but even a death like Tylos's, where he's killed while saving one of the technicians, is treated as something meaningful.  Compare this with Lexa's death in Meglos and the difference is clear.  All the characters in Full Circle matter.

All this and a good plot too.  The stuff about Romana being taken over is primarily just to provide a reason for the Marshmen to successfully enter the Starliner, but the stuff with the Deciders and with the Doctor, as the Doctor works out that the Starliner has been ready to leave for centuries, and that the people inside the Starliner are in fact descended from the Marshmen (and look like the Terradons because they adapted to live in the Starliner) is both entertaining and interesting, and even the E-Space set-up for the next couple stories leaves the viewer curious.  It's a very well-written story, and at no point do you feel less than satisfied with its development.

Up to this point, season 18 has had a distinctive new style, but it hasn't quite had stories to match.  Full Circle feels like the first time that the new style comes through in the storyline as well as the visuals.  Add in the fact that Andrew Smith was seventeen when he wrote this, and Full Circle becomes even more impressive.  This is a story by someone who understands the show and who's in sync with the more serious direction that Nathan-Turner and Bidmead are looking for, and it's directed by another newcomer (well, as far as the Doctor Who directing chair goes) in the form of Peter Grimwade, who's able to make this all dynamic and smooth.  The end result is an excellent story that finds the new production team beginning to hit their stride.

September 27: Full Circle Parts One & Two

Big news in contemporary terms: the day before Full Circle Part One aired is the day it leaked that Tom Baker was leaving the series.  The fourth Doctor is now on borrowed time...

It was, coincidentally, during the making of Full Circle that Baker decided not to return for an eighth season -- but that's not a commentary on the serial itself, which (at least on the basis of these two episodes) is one that's generally firing on all cylinders.  There's a cleverness and momentum about the script that makes it very entertaining, and there's also a sense of drama that was missing from the last two stories.  Romana's unhappiness at being summoned back to Gallifrey is understated but affecting, and the main scenario at play on Alzarius -- the coming of Mistfall -- is nicely compelling too.  Mistfall, much like Alzarius in general, is presented in an interesting way, and writer Andrew Smith makes a good move by having a band of rebellious Alzarians, the Outlers, remaining outside the Starliner, as this means that there are people for Romana to interact with outside the ship while the Doctor is inside.  The main outsider Alzarian, Adric, is passable -- some moments are a little wooden, but Matthew Waterhouse also has a few rather good moments: his waking up in the TARDIS, alarmed about Mistfall, is one such moment.

Mistfall is treated well, as I mentioned before, and not only is it presented as a serious concern for the locals, but it's filmed in an effective manner as well -- all the bubbling mist that hangs over the place at the end of part one and all throughout part two looks fabulous.  Plus, it really helps sell that first cliffhanger, as the Marshmen rise from the water.  The Marshmen also look great, and there's some fine acting going on from the people inside; the Marshchild that follows the Doctor inside the Starliner is especially good, and the fact that the Doctor can see that the Marshchild is terrified but harmless is another great moment.

Really, Tom Baker in general gets to be very good here, even in exposition scenes with K-9. And his first meeting with the Deciders is also great: "Why can't people be nice to one another, just for a change?" the Doctor says, after noting that the Marshmen dragged Decider Draith under the water.  "I mean, I'm an alien, and you don't want to drag me into a swamp, do you?   ...You do."  Romana fares less well: she maintains her cool under pressure, after the Outlers attempt to hijack the TARDIS, but the cliffhanger to part two involves her trying to defend herself from some large spiders by grabbing a riverfruit (a type of melon), only for a spider to hatch out of it and attack her.  Which might be excusable if she hadn't just witnessed a bunch of spiders hatching out of other riverfruits.  And K-9 does well for a bit, but then he enters a cave and loudly announces his presence to the Marshmen, which leads to one knocking his head clean off.

But overall, it's an entertaining story and a compelling script.  If the last two episodes are like this, then Full Circle will be something special indeed.

September 26: Meglos Parts Three & Four

For some reason these episodes are getting shorter and shorter; not only are parts three and four both around 20 minutes long, but the cliffhanger reprises are getting longer too -- there're two full minutes of footage from part three at the start of part four.  And then the whole thing ends early, meaning that the last episode of Meglos only has 15 minutes of new footage.

The real Doctor listens to Lexa's accusations. (Meglos Part Three)
©BBC

And yet even with this there's still padding; Romana leads the Gaztaks around in circles in part three, and there's some stuff with the two Tom Bakers (one the Doctor, the other Meglos) wandering around the screens of Zolfa-Thura in part four.  Part three in particular feels like one great big stalling moment; other than the Doctor working out that he has a doppelgänger and Lexa taking over, the episode is waiting for Meglos to leave the city and get on with the main plot.  Even the part of the plot that should be really dramatic (the Deons are staging a revolution and driving all the non-Deons out onto the inhospitable surface!) feels more like a damp squib, and it doesn't help that it's apparently undone three minutes into part four.

Fortunately Tom Baker is still worth watching, and his performance as Meglos is very good, full of nuances that we don't really expect from Tom.  It's a tribute to his skills that you're never in doubt as to whether you're watching Meglos or the Doctor, and he's just about the most watchable thing in a story that often feels pointless.  Things happen on Tigella just so that something happens, rather than for a good reason.  Oh sure, there are nice moments here and there, but too often things occur in such an undramatic manner (witness, for instance, the death of Lexa in part four, which feels so arbitrary and meaningless that it verges on insulting) that it's hard to care.

When Gareth Roberts was writing "The Lodger" for the eleventh Doctor, in one draft he apparently had the main villain be Meglos, with the joke being that the Doctor had completely forgotten who he was.  That's sort of the position of this story in fandom ("oh right, that story does exist"), and it's not hard to see why.  It's not a story that's been written with any real intent in mind beyond (barely) filling four episodes; the direction is more workmanlike than inspired, and there's no drive or passion behind the writing -- new writers John Flanagan and Andrew McCulloch seemingly more interested in writing in generic clichés of the sort of thing they think should be in Doctor Who rather than anything personal.  In fact, it goes further than that.  In the past there have been stories that haven't worked for one reason or another, but it's generally felt like there was at least some care and style going into the writing, even when it was Terry Nation just turning in another Dalek tale.  Meglos, however -- despite the efforts of the cast and the actual production crew -- feels like the first serial that has contempt for its audience, interested more in the paycheck at the end than in anything in the story; all too often, it feels like "eh, good enough".