Perpetual Outsider: An Unofficial, Unauthorised Fan Guide To Doctor Who: Vol 2 1970-1981

By John Bensalhia

Volume Two of John Bensalhia's guide to the popular television series Doctor Who, charting the Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker eras. Includes story reviews, brief overviews of books, video and DVD releases, plus recording and transmission dates.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Bensalhia
• Release date: Dec 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301679799

John Bensalhia

John Bensalhia is a freelance writer who has contributed to a wide range of publications and websites including Shadowlocked, Port Strategy, Business Franchise, Making Money, Sports Insight, Italy Magazine, Builders Merchants Journal, Food Magazine and Den Of Geek. John's complete Doctor Who reviews for Shadowlocked have been compiled for inclusion in his book Perpetual Outsider: An Unofficial, Unauthorised Fan Guide To Doctor Who.

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PERPETUAL OUTSIDER – AN UNOFFICIAL, UNAUTHORISED FAN GUIDE TO DOCTOR WHO: Vol 2 1970-1981

Published by John Bensalhia at Smashwords. Copyright 2012 John Bensalhia

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This product is not authorised by the BBC. Doctor Who and TARDIS are trademarks of the BBC.

I would like to thank the following people – Martin Anderson (for giving me the opportunity to write the Doctor Who reviews in the first place for the Shadowlocked website); Luke Connolly, Richard Cosgrove, Jennifer Thomson, Gabriel Ruzin, Caleb Leland and all the other writers at Shadowlocked who have provided support and encouragement; plus all the readers who took the time to say nice things on the comments page about my reviews.

Much love and hugs to my family – my mum and dad Jo and Joe; my sister, brother in law and niece, Emma, Paul and Iris; my mum, dad and brother in-law, Jane, Ken and David; my Grandma, June; my aunts and uncles, Tony, Hilary, Helen and Ted; and my cousin, Mary. To Antoni Olswzeski, my late granddad, you will never be forgotten.

And of course lots of love, hugs and kisses to my lovely wife Alison, who provided support and encouragement throughout putting the reviews and the book together – and for being my eternal rock.

CONTENTS

SEASON SEVEN

New Doctor, new colour and quality Pertwee gurning

SEASON EIGHT

A Masterful introduction, a happy UNIT family and electronic Simpson noodling

SEASON NINE

Mellowing Time Lords, moral messages and a demented bucket-headed budgie

SEASON TEN

Hello freedom, goodbye Jo and bon voyage to psychedelic diamond flames

SEASON ELEVEN

Investigative journalists, diamond logos and the facing of fears

SEASON TWELVE

The Bohemian age, the dawning of the Gothic era and Sullivan support

SEASON THIRTEEN

More quality, more scares and more examples of the Baker Bellow

SEASON FOURTEEN

A winning formula, an angry Whitehouse and several drooling fathers

SEASON FIFTEEN

Cost cutting, a punk ethos and a Time Lord’s best friend

SEASON SIXTEEN

An intergalactic quest, a brainy Time Lady and the very first season arc

SEASON SEVENTEEN

Laughing matters, Parisian larks and strike sobbing

SEASON EIGHTEEN

The Rise of Entropy, the Fall of the Fourth and the Terror of the Terrible Trio

INTRODUCTION

I can remember my first ever experience of Doctor Who. It was on 3rd September 1977, the day that the 15th season began with Horror Of Fang Rock. Around 6pm-ish, two psychedelic parallel strips gave way to a groovy time tunnel and a blue box travelling forward, which in turn gave way to the inside of a hoover and then a sombre looking curly headed man. It was only as a diamond shaped logo hurtled down a trippy time vortex that I realised that the sequence was accompanied by one of the scariest things that I’d ever heard in my short life. So much so, that the next week when I turned three, I was so worried that the TV would somehow switch itself on that my face was crumpled into a worried frown. My mum still has the photographic evidence of my three-year-old bowl-headed self looking very anxious in front of a birthday cake.

That could have been it for me and Doctor Who – if it wasn’t for the chance glance at City Of Death two years later. Having avoided the title music, I was hooked by this gripping, funny and weird programme that dared to combine Mona Lisas, one-eyed spaghetti heads and bumbling detectives. From then on, Doctor Who became a weekly ritual, and in the early 1980s, school days never seemed quite as bad, given that the show was transmitting in the evenings.

Then that hook snowballed – I borrowed the books from the local library, bought the books from bookshops, bought the magazines, and then the videos and the DVDs. What’s great about Doctor Who is the variety – so many different genres, adventures, monsters, characters – even the minor things such as the costumes and the music vary greatly from story to story. It’s also a programme that relies more on imagination rather than flashy visual effects and gimmicks – even with a bigger budget these days, the show’s core values of good triumphing over evil are still very much present and correct.

In 2009, I approached a website called Den Of Geek to casually enquire if it would be possible to carry on reviewing the remaining 50 episodes of Blake’s 7 – Martin Anderson, the chap who I contacted, agreed (even though I initially got his name wrong), and to my amazement, I actually completed the task. When Martin announced that he was setting up a new website in late 2009, I then considered whether it was do-able doing the same thing with Doctor Who. Review every story from beginning to end – at that time, to be honest; I couldn’t actually see myself completing the project. Either I would lose interest or either readers would get bored of my writing and they’d draft someone else in to do the job – that’s how I imagined the scenario panning out. But even more amazingly, I found myself completing the task again, and more amazingly still, the feedback from readers was actually quite good. Incidentally, check out the website, Shadowlocked, for lots of other cool articles on every sci-fi, fantasy, cartoon and comedy programme and film under the sun.

So the fruits of my labours have been compiled by me into this volume chronicling the Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker years. In addition to the reviews, I have also included dates for recording and transmission, plus notes on the many books, videos and DVDs of each story.

I hope you enjoy the book – in the meantime, welcome to the wonderful world of Doctor Who!

John Bensalhia

SEASON SEVEN

New Doctor, new colour and quality Pertwee gurning

SPEARHEAD FROM SPACE

TRANSMISSION DATES

First broadcast: 3rd - 24th January 1970 (BBC1)

Repeated: 9th - 30th July 1971 (BBC1); 16th - 30th November 1999 (BBC2);

13th - 20th November 2006 (BBC4)

RECORDING DATES

Location Filming: 13th September - 22nd November 1969

NOVELISATION

First printed in January 1974 as Doctor Who And The Auton Invasion by Terrance Dicks, the first of a revitalised book brand. A great cover from Chris Achilleos, complete with accompanying illustrations inside (although Scobie looks like he’s played by Jimmy Edwards). The first chapter kicks off with a recap from the concluding bit of The War Games for the sake of context.

VHS RELEASES

Released on video in February 1988 (Omnibus edition) and then in February 1995 (Episodic edition).

DVD RELEASES

First issued on shiny disc in January 2001, and then repackaged in May 2011 with the unreleased Terror Of The Autons in the Mannequin Mania box.

The picture quality is very impressive on the all-new edition, there's now the return of "Oh Well" by Fleetwood Mac (previously erased, thanks to copyright issues) and there are some notable special features including a look at what went on in the introduction of Pertwee's Doctor - it's nice to have archive footage of Pertwee in the mix (recorded in 1995), and there are some fascinating bits and bobs to be found in Down To Earth, particularly the concept that Pertwee's cape was meant to signify a mother hen. Other revelations include assistant script editor Robin Squire replacing a claustrophobic Auton and Pertwee enjoying a free meal or five. The other main feature of note is Regeneration, which almost feels like the bookend of The War Games featurette on the dying breed of black and white TV – this featurette looks at the giddy early days of colour. There are also trailers from the 1999 repeat and a UNIT recruitment film narrated by Hotel Babylon's Dexter Fletcher.

Two commentaries – the new Derrick Sherwin/Terrance Dicks one is the lesser of the two, although it’s funny when they rightly wonder whether Channing wears a toupee or not. The original Nicholas Courtney/Caroline John is better, although there's something rather sad about listening to two recently departed greats. It's a lot of fun though, including John's bad experience with a hired telly, Courtney musing on the origins of The X Files and John being a Nauddy, nauddy gal. A very enjoyable chat.

BLU-RAY RELEASE

Just in case you haven’t had enough Spearhead action on TWO videos and TWO DVDs, here is a Blu-Ray release to wet your whistle. It is due in June 2013 and includes a biography of Jon Pertwee and a tribute to Caroline John.

REVIEW

If you’re viewing Doctor Who in chronological order, the first thing to hit you about Spearhead From Space is COLOUR! We certainly get a lot of it in the opening title sequence in which psychedelic flames change from red to black to green, before new Doctor Jon Pertwee looms up on the screen like a Happy Worzel Head, after which the logo appears and disappears in a twisty, multicoloured set of patterns.

Yes, Jon Pertwee makes his début in the celebrated Spearhead From Space. The dashing dandy, after one-and-a-half episodes of hospital dazedness, quickly makes his mark after finding himself regenerated and stranded on Earth. Luckily, he has his old buddy Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart to fall back on, as well as the prospect of a new job and the promise of a swanky car. Although, as we’ll find, it takes The Doctor a long time to get settled into his new domestic way of life.

The Pertwee years have had a rather turbulent press over time. In the 1990s, the Pertwee era was generally highly praised, and it helped that 20-something programme controllers saw fit to revisit their youth by repeating a string of Pertwee classics. Come the right-on 21st century, and reactions were now decidedly mixed. Both this adventure and the following Silurian seven-parter were intended to launch a complete rerun of colour Doctor Who – until the BBC inevitably decided to put the ratings first and quality second, moving straight into the millionth repeat of Genesis Of The Daleks. The critics too, have offered varied views on the Pertwee years. The common criticisms usually consist of The Pertwee years are too dated or He was too patronising or It got too parochial or How can he be an alien when he’s part of the establishment?

Which are all valid, but I must confess that I’m a great fan of both Pertwee’s Doctor and his adventures. It’s one of the few eras that tells a story in its own right – The story of an alien who, after being sentenced to exile on Earth, slowly learnt to not only adapt to but to actually like his time with UNIT – to the point where in Planet Of The Spiders, he says that the TARDIS brought him home. Along the way, we get satisfying character arcs for Jo and Mike, and I actually quite like the set-up of the UNIT family. It’s a different tack to what had gone on before, and even if the sentiment gets too cloying from time to time, the enthusiasm of the regulars wins me over every time. There’s no denying that the era’s dated quite badly, with bad haircuts and more flares than a 1972 edition of Top Of The Pops, but then the Pertwee stories were made in the 1970s, not the 2010s.

Then there’s Pertwee himself. An established comedy actor, famous for silly voices and goofing around in The Navy Lark and Carry On films, the Third Doctor was Pertwee’s first serious role. And he nails it completely. Doctor Who is about contrasts, so after the shambling, comedic figure of the Second Doctor, it was a logical step to make him confident, authoritative and suave. I never really consider the Third Doctor to be anti-establishment anyway, since he seems to spend a lot of time berating pompous authority figures and acting against the rules of Earth. This different way of life results in a return to the crabbiness of Hartnell’s early stories. In fact, the Third Doctor is quite shocking in his abrupt, rude manner – which can veer from being amusing to downright annoying. But it’s fascinating to see him change over his stories into a mellower, authoritative mediator rather than the angry loose cannon of Seasons Seven and Eight.

Pertwee’s performances though are consistently strong, and Spearhead From Space is no exception. Initially, his Doctor is a shadowy, mysterious figure. We never properly see him until 15 minutes into the first episode. The camera cleverly shoots his head from behind and obscures it with bedclothes. Not only is the Brigadier keen to see whether it’s the same man that helped him with the Yetis and the Cybermen, the audience is too.

Once he’s up and running, the Third Doctor really makes an impression. He’s full of cutting humour (Go away and leave us alone!), rudeness (his clash with Derrick Sherwin’s guard), authority (his urging of Hibbert to come to UNIT) and likeability (his rather good-natured chats with Liz). Pertwee is excellent here, and proves that despite his comedic background, his casting as The Doctor was no fluke.

As for the story itself, Spearhead belongs in that odd entity known as Season Seven. It’s a strange season, rather low on humour and high on gritty bleakness. Spearhead, if possible, is the most light-hearted of the four, although it’s still a sharp contrast to the previous six seasons. There’s a higher degree of horror – not only in the blood shown on the windscreen when Forbes crashes his car in a fatal accident, but also in the Autons, and characters’ reactions to them. Ransome is shown reacting in tea-spluttering, gibbering horror. Meg Seeley (played by Catherine Tate’s Nan character) tries in vain to stop an Auton with a shotgun and the promise that her husband’s abaaht, y’know (what’s Sam Seeley going to do, throw pork pies at it?). And countless shoppers are gunned down by the unstoppable Autons in one of the show’s most celebrated scenes.

The Autons are inspired creations, and it’s understandable as to why they were chosen as the first monsters to usher in the 2005 revival. There’s always something creepy about dummies – remember that promo video for Godley And Crème’s Englishman In New York in which non-beardy Crème conducted a creepy troupe of blank-faced dummies? The Autons are monsters that vaguely look like the human form, but not quite. The blank eye sockets give off nothing, and so walking, unstoppable shop window dummies understandably gave kids screaming nightmares – simply because there’s nothing to react to. Out of the three Auton stories, they are at their creepiest in Spearhead because of their design and also the calm, collected way in which they casually stroll up to blast their victims into nothingness.

Spearhead From Space is probably the simplest out of the Season Seven quartet, but that’s fine. You need a simple story to showcase your new Doctor, and this scary contemporary horror story does this admirably. What’s great about Spearhead is that the mystery is gradually built up over the four episodes. The first episode concentrates on the identity of the mysterious man in the woods, with the Auton threat very much in the background. By the second episode, the story has shifted to the creepy plastics factory and the machinations of the equally creepy Channing, a man who looks like he’s had way too much black coffee and sleepless nights. The questions come thick and fast. What are the pulsing globes? Who is Channing? What are the Autons? How does a grizzled old goat like General Scobie get caught up in all of this? Robert Holmes pulls his first real winner out of the bag. There are none of the humorous double acts that pepper his later stories, but in terms of scaring kids, it’s Holmes to a tee. Countless characters are killed off. Countless people react in terror. It’s all shadows and silent but tangible menace, and so the seeds are sown for Holmes’ script-editing stint in the mid-1970s.

It’s notable that there are so many set pieces that stick in the mind, and this is partially down to Derek Martinus’ fantastic direction. The most notorious of these is the high street rampage, which is really Spearhead in microcosm. A slow, peaceful start, which gradually builds up to a frenzied climax. The shots of the Autons miraculously breaking out of shop windows is excellently shot by Martinus. Quick cuts of the reactions of the shoppers are perfectly balanced by the ominous, lingering shots of the advancing Autons. And if that’s not perfect enough, Dudley Simpson’s memorable score only adds to the terror of this perfectly-realised set-piece, again building up from a small bleep on a 1969 electronic piano through to the crescendo of noise.

It’s not just the shoppers’ slaughter that proves to be so memorable. There’s the eerie scene in the waxworks museum when the Autons silently leave. Ransome’s first look at his newly refurbished workshop. Auton Scobie makes an unwelcome house call. The wheelchair chase. Even the little touches such as the documentary-style press grilling of the Brigadier, the long tracking shot in the hospital corridor and the eerie close-up of Channing in the distorted window work perfectly. So many little nuggets sprinkled throughout the story and all expertly directed by Martinus.

Sadly, there has to be an exception to the rule. And of course, it’s the climatic struggle with the thrashing Nestene. Apparently this was a re-shoot, so god knows what the original version looked like (if it ever was filmed). The rubbery Nestene looks ridiculous, and matters aren’t helped by Pertwee’s over-enthusiastic gurning and wailing. As many commentators have said, speed the whole thing up and you’re looking at a sequence that could have comfortably slotted into an episode of The Goodies. In fact I’m almost surprised that a giant Auton Dougal or Kitten Kong don’t burst into Ransome’s workshop to help the Nestene overpower The Doctor.

Apart from this misfire (which is partially redeemed by the last shot of Channing’s snot-covered remains), there’s little to fault Spearhead From Space. The performances are strong across the board. Hugh Burden is excellent as Channing, all silent, spooky stares at first and then softly-spoken menace. John Woodnutt is also perfectly cast as the put-upon Hibbert, as is Derek Smee as Ransome, the man who has a mini nervous breakdown after meeting an Auton.

And of course, there’s the UNIT team. Season Seven is a bit disjointed in this regard, since the Brigadier’s second-in-commands change more times than the weather. Nicholas Courtney is as good as ever, and makes The Brig an assured, confident leader that knows how to make shrewd decisions. Caroline John too, also makes a good first impression. Liz Shaw is a complete contrast to the screaming companions of the Troughton years and it’s a refreshing throwback to the days of Barbara the Grown-Up. Liz isn’t quite so prone to screaming, she doesn’t ask a lot of fool questions and she can hold her own in an argument. Only problem is, Liz’s snottiness is overdone just a tad in her first adventure. With the air of a duchess being forced to work in a supermarket, Liz huffs and puffs around, lashing out at The Brigadier on a non-stop basis (You don’t expect me to salute, I hope?) Luckily, Liz would calm down in her next few stories – evidently either The Doctor or The Brig offer her a crash course in How To Get Over An Attitude Problem.

So The Doctor once again saves the day, although the Autons would continue to plague the Earth, not only in Doctor Who it seems. Just look at rubbish musical screech-a-thon Glee, in which classic songs are reduced to plastic, soulless soup by a cast of plastic stereotypes. Or look at any politician you’d care to name. Or… well, you get the picture. Spearhead From Space itself is a triumph, launching the Third Doctor in fine style and with an enjoyable, thrilling script from Robert Homes thrown in for good measure. The incredible thing is that the best is still yet to come in the season…

DOCTOR WHO AND THE SILURIANS

TRANSMISSION DATES

First broadcast: 31st January - 14th March 1970 (BBC1)

Repeated: 7th December 1999 - 25th January 2000 (BBC2)

RECORDING DATES

Test session: August 1969

Location Filming: 12th - 24th November 1969

Studio Recording: 8th December 1969 - 26th January 1970

NOVELISATION

First printed in January 1974 as Doctor Who And The Cave Monsters by Malcolm Hulke – it almost makes for an alternative take on the transmitted story, since it only follows the bare bones of the original TV version. Too many differences to mention, but notably, Lawrence is killed by a Silurian rather than the virus, Miss Dawson witnesses Quinn’s demise, and there are individual names for the Silurians.

VHS RELEASE

The double pack video came out in July 1993 with rather juddery black and white prints in colour.

DVD RELEASE

Remastered to a much higher standard, this story was issued on DVD in January 2008 (As part of the Beneath The Surface boxset with The Sea Devils and Warriors Of The Deep).

The restoration is an incredible achievement, considering the original video release, and is just one of the many reasons to buy this one. There's some intelligent discourse on how the story fitted into the political climate of early 1970, a look at the music of this story and The Sea Devils, and one of those featurettes that shows how The Silurians came to look its best in 38 years.

Revolving commentary, with regulars Nicholas and Caroline joined by guest actors Peter Miles and Geoffrey Palmer, the double act of Barry Letts and Terrance Dicks, and also director Timothy Combe (or as Pertwee made the cast say at the time, Timothy Coooooooommbaaaaaahhhhhhh – warm up stuff, y'know). What's nice about this documentary is that some of the participants don't hold back when offering insightful criticism about some of the lesser aspects of NuWho – eg: the at-times ridiculous incidental music. Caroline John, in particular, thinks that there's way too much of it – hear, hear.

REVIEW

It’s now 42 years since the Silurians first made their appearance on Doctor Who. They recently commemorated the event by returning in Matt Smith’s début season in the two-parter of The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood. Fans of that may wish to check out the original classic adventure, which was apparently named by WOTAN from The War Machines.

Doctor Who And The Silurians really kicks the Third Doctor’s era into gear. Barry Letts, one of the show’s finest producers takes the helm. The stories are now shot in a mix of colour film and video rather than the all-film look of Spearhead From Space. The most notable début though is the moral themes and issues, a common element of the Pertwee years. And with Malcolm Hulke at the typewriter, a host of moral debates are at work.

The biggest issue is whether the humans and the Silurians can actually live together in peace. The Silurians rightly regard the Earth as their planet, and the humans as jumped-up apes that don’t belong here. The humans, likewise, regard the Silurians as a threat. Both sides wish to wipe the other out, whether it’s with a deadly virus or a gun. It’s only The Doctor that sees the bigger picture, as he tries to negotiate some sort of peaceful co-existence between the two. Naturally, The Doctor fails. Not even his formidable powers of diplomacy can compare to the brutal animal instinct of Survival Of The Fittest. So much so, that his plans for brokering a deal are curtailed when The Brigadier decides to blow the Silurians up.

The Silurians really shows that Doctor Who was starting to grow up, taking what’s quite a simple plot, and adding layer upon layer of depth to form a fully-formed three-dimensional story. The seven-episode format allows for a greater opportunity to look at both races and their motivations. And given his work on The War Games, Malcolm Hulke was the perfect choice of writer. He comes up with a whole host of characters, none of whom are particularly sympathetic, but in a funny way, they are easy to identify with. We’ve all met their types: The stubborn, head-in-the-sand boss. The worrying xenophobe. The blinkered scientist. Even the Silurians are easy to identify with (the old, kindly leader vs the young hothead), although I’ve yet to meet a person that can waggle a head so freely.

On the human side, the characters are mainly based at the Wenley Moor underground research centre where they are developing a new type of nuclear reactor. Their research is akin to poking a giant wasps’ nest with a stick, as they find that mysterious power losses and absenteeism are starting to hamper the project.

The centre is headed by the obstinate Dr Lawrence, a man who surely wins the Blinkered Idiot Award of 1970. Lawrence is the first of many pompous authority figures for the Third Doctor to shout at. He sets the template well - He’s arrogant. Obsessed with rules and regulations. Puts money and career before everything else. On top of all this, he’s seriously deluded about events unfolding before his eyes. He refuses to acknowledge the existence of the Silurians, frequently passing them off as fairy stories. He refuses to have the vaccine to combat the virus. And sure enough, when his body breaks out in disfiguring blisters, he thinks it’s all an elaborate trick to boot him out from his job.

How did this man manage to nab the post of director exactly? Clearly, he didn’t fill out I’m As Mad As A Hatter in the medical history section on his application form. Lawrence’s gradual nervous breakdown is very convincing though - I guess, at the end of the day, he’s a workaholic who just wants to get on with his job, earn some money and pay the bills. His downfall is that unlike The Doctor, he can’t see the bigger picture, and so opts for deluded rudeness instead. Peter Miles may be best known for his portrayal of the evil Nyder in Genesis Of The Daleks, but his performance as Lawrence is just as good. It’s 100% convincing, culminating in the brutal scene in which he tries to attack the Brigadier and then collapses to the floor, dead. Just look at the way in which he finally breaks down, flinging equipment and papers to the floor. Well are you goeeeeeeng???!!! he screams like a madman - that’s just as disturbing as any scary monster.

Major Baker’s another interesting character. It’s not touched upon so much in the TV version, but the implication is that he’s making up for some past crime that he committed in the first place. It’s left to the viewer to judge just exactly what he did, but from the evidence, it’s clear that he’s one loose cannon, and more to the point, his attitude is one of quiet xenophobia. When The Doctor wishes to make peace with the Silurians, Baker flies off the handle, throttling him when he tries to tell them about the weapons that humans use. He later shouts: You’re nothing but a traitor! Can you hear me, Doctor? Couple that with Baker’s violent shoot first, ask questions later personality and you’ve got one man that you’d probably want to avoid in a dark alley. Norman Jones is again excellent, bringing a lot of raw grit to Baker, a man that starts out with good intentions but is gradually brought down by his own fighting and territorial instincts.

One of my favourite characters is actually Dr Quinn, superbly played by Fulton Mackay. The first three episodes chiefly revolve around Quinn, who starts off as an apparent all-round good egg. As the three episodes progress, we quickly see that he’s a man driven by his own ambition, willing to do a deal with the Silurians for the sake of his own personal gain. Unfortunately for Quinn, he’s brought down both by a nosy Doctor and the Silurians themselves, who surprisingly bump him off by the end of the third episode. The conflict between The Doctor and Quinn is particularly well handled by Jon Pertwee and Mackay. Right from the off, The Doctor senses that Quinn isn’t quite as innocent as he seems. He chucks the log back at Quinn after finding that pages have been torn out. It all comes to a head when The Doctor decides to audition as a Location Location Location presenter as he pays a visit to Quinn’s house. In addition to examining lovely old grandfather clocks and thermostats, The Doctor manages to make Quinn extremely uncomfortable with his constant questions. Again, it’s excellently played by both actors (What d’you mean? Eh? flounders Quinn after The Doctor’s casually remarked about the reptile house at the zoo) and adds a great deal of weight to the story.

In fact, Fulton Mackay’s presence is just one example of what’s actually quite a guest starry story. We also have veteran comedy actor Geoffrey Palmer as about the only sympathetic human, Masters. And even Paul Darrow pops up as the Brigadier’s number two, Hawkins, warming up for his turn as Avon in Blake’s 7. Out of all the characters, there’s not really a duff performance among the bunch, although Squire sounds a bit like a Gumby when he’s barking at Doris in his barn (DOOOORUUZZ!).

This is also a really good story for the regulars. Caroline John does another great job, making Liz a really believable companion. Liz is a lot more likeable here than in her début adventure. She’s still capable of standing up to the Brigadier’s pomposity and doesn’t always say How high when The Doctor asks her to jump - or at least stay behind when there’s danger to be had in the caves.

This is one of the best Brigadier stories. Nicholas Courtney really gets his teeth into the story, which shows the Brigadier as a good man who’s caught in a situation which he has no control of, and so has to resort to drastic measures to defeat the Silurians. The destruction of the Silurians shows the ruthless side of the Brigadier, or at least, his fighting instinct - something that we’d revisit in the parallel world of Inferno. Before this though, The Brigadier is shown to be dedicated, completely in control and miles away from the more light-hearted but less brainy version in the later Pertwee stories.

And then there’s The Doctor himself. And already Jon Pertwee’s taken to the role like a duck to water. He’s on commanding form, giving Quinn a hard time, berating Lawrence and chiding The Brig for his all guns blazing attitude to the problem. There’s a nicely sarcastic humour to the Third Doctor: It’s not worth 50 million pins if it doesn’t work, is it? he retorts to Lawrence after the latter’s horror at such a valuable piece of equipment being taken to bits by a screwdriver. It’s nicely tempered by the new Doctor’s diplomatic streak, as seen in his efforts to broker a deal between the Silurians and the humans.

One of the Third Doctor’s greatest strengths is his diplomacy - as we’ll see, he frequently acts as a mediator between warring factions, both on Earth and on alien planets. Pertwee conveys this authority very well, and altogether, The Silurians demonstrates why his Doctor is so successful. Just try and ignore the comedy gurning at the end of Episodes Four and Six (the latter cracks me up whenever I see it), which wouldn’t be out of place in Worzel Gummidge.

The Silurians themselves are quite well realised, albeit with one or two deficiencies. It’s blatantly obvious that they’re just men in rubber suits, and their voices are also rather comical, sounding like a man who’s gargling with treacle. Where they do win out though is in Malcolm Hulke’s sensitive portrayal. In the past, Doctor Who monsters have tended to be faceless drones without any real depth. The Silurians, though, are shown to have motivation and also feelings. The Old Silurian is very much the equivalent of The Doctor, an old, wise man who is also willing to agree to a deal between humans and Silurians. He’s thwarted by the Young Silurian, who’s a real hothead, the equivalent of either Baker or Lawrence in that he refuses to listen to other people’s views and clearly doesn’t know the meaning of the word diplomacy.

Even the Silurian Scientist is shown to be something of a toadying coward, a Silurian that’s willing to go with whatever side has the most power. The Silurian Scientist may be technically brilliant, but clearly has no moral scruples whatsoever. OK, so the voices are deeply silly, but the Silurians are one of the most interesting monster races presented in Doctor Who, thanks to Malcolm Hulke’s intelligent, well-defined script.

A good method of prolonging the threat of the Silurians is to keep them as an unseen presence in the first three episodes. Director Timothy Combe astutely keeps them off the screen - instead, we see well-realised Silurian POV shots and silhouetted creatures against the sun, not to mention a couple of sneaky claw shots. This is just one example of the outstanding direction that Combe provides. It’s a big-scale affair, with extensive set-pieces that really bring Hulke’s script to vibrant life. The prolonged search for the Silurian with the helicopter is very well shot, as are the notorious scenes of the Silurian virus getting to work at a train station. The close-up shots of the commuters succumbing to the virus are totally in tune with the gritty approach of Season Seven - Combe adds further to the urgency of the situation by cross-fading the scenes with interspersed shots of The Doctor, Liz and The Brigadier frantically trying to find a cure and calm the panic. The cave designs are also very well realised by Barry Newbery, adding greatly to the atmosphere.

Only a couple of no-no’s this time around. The dinosaur looks a bit naff, especially in the scene when it’s reduced to an obvious CSO shot on a cave wall. More distracting is, of course, Carey Blyton’s score. Actually, I don’t have a problem with Blyton’s music - it’s quite evocative in its own way - no, it’s that wretched Silurian theme, which is performed on something called a crumhorn. It sounds like the Eh-Eh-Ehhh character from Little Britain choking on a kazoo, and it’s a real pain.

Despite this, Doctor Who And The Silurians really cements the Third Doctor’s time on Earth in stylish, intelligent fashion. The acting’s of the highest calibre, Timothy Combe’s direction is innovative and lavish, and on top of this, Malcolm Hulke presents a script that’s entertaining, thought-provoking and moving in equal measures. The last scene in which The Doctor looks on in both sadness and horror at the exploding Silurian base is as perfect as you’ll ever get - Pertwee’s reaction really sells the sadness and anger felt by The Doctor at the Brigadier’s blinkered actions. As a scientist and a man of peace, he can’t comprehend how such blatant genocide could have taken place under his nose. A downbeat but brilliant ending to one classy story.

THE AMBASSADORS OF DEATH

TRANSMISSION DATES

First broadcast: 21st March - 2nd May 1970 (BBC1)

RECORDING DATES

Location Filming: 23rd January - 4th February 1970

Studio Recording: 13th February - 27th March 1970

NOVELISATION

First printed in May 1987 as Doctor Who - The Ambassadors Of Death with typical Uncle Terrance style and quotation chapter titles.

VHS RELEASE

This troublesome story was released on video in May 2002. The rainbow patterning on the overseas tapes meant that the project couldn't be restored to complete colour – the result being a slightly jarring mix between colour and black and white. The original Episode One aside, only Episode Five is in complete colour. Episode Four is in black and white only, while the remaining eps mix the two formats. A quick extra at the end looks at how the restoration came together.

DVD RELEASE

The omens looked good for the DVD release which was due out in full colour on 1st October 2012. Very impressive results. The commentary's crammed to bursting point with Caroline John and Mr Caroline John, Geoffrey Beevers, Nicholas Courtney, Peter Halliday, Terrance Dicks, Michael Ferguson and stunt fellahs Derek Ware, Derek Martin (yes, it's Charlie Slater from EastEnders) and Roy Scammell (who earned his pay well in the Indiana Jones films). The stunt boys are particularly good value, noting John Levene's ambitions to be James Bond or the giveaway difference between Roy Scammell and Caroline John for the weir cliffhanger to Episode Three. Elsewhere, Nicholas Courtney's regretting bum shots, Peter Halliday acknowledges that Peeeeaaaacckkkaaaaah was completely useless, while Geoffrey Beevers recalls his delight at Doctor Who being his second TV job. Again, it's a generally positive, fun track that mixes well between participants.

Elsewhere, it's pretty thin on the ground extras-wise – the documentary Mars Probe 7 is a bit plodding, and the link between this story and NASA's Apollo 13 flight is over-egged. The trailer for this story is already available as an Easter Egg on The Silurians disc. About the best of the extras is the press reaction to the Third Doctor in the ongoing Tomorrow's Times, since Peter Purves is the natural choice for presenting duties.

REVIEW

Season Seven’s quite a rarity in the Doctor Who pantheon. When it comes to quality, most reviewers regard the Lucky Seven as having no duff stories. Four helpings of top-quality, albeit gritty and downbeat Who, it’s only the mid-'70s seasons that command such respect too.

The only problem is deciding which story is your favourite, and that’s a more difficult task. Spearhead From Space with its scary monsters and brand new Doctor? The Silurians with its moral complexity and impressive character development? Inferno and its gritty realism and parallel universe hi-jinks? Tough call, although my personal favourite is actually the one that no one plumps for, and that’s The Ambassadors Of Death.

Ambassadors tends to get lumped with Image Of The Fendahl or Frontios in the pile that time forgot. They’re regarded as good stories, but not necessarily ones that you’d dig out to show potential Who converts. There are also the charges that Ambassadors is too long; too padded; too difficult to follow. Even Uncle Terrance was presumably quaking in fear on having to tell the Who bank manager about Michael Ferguson’s ideas of producing a cheap action sequence. And yet for all of that, Ambassadors hits the spot for me every time I see it.

The story is essentially a modern-day thriller laced with subtle undertones about the horrors of xenophobia. If The Silurians explored this theme in a fair amount of detail, then Ambassadors takes it one step further, and examines how one man’s xenophobia leads him into madness. General Carrington, the main protagonist of Ambassadors, blames the alien astronauts for the death of his ex-colleague Jim Daniels, when the two were involved in a past Mars probe expedition. Rather than acknowledge that the astronauts were innocent and ignorant of the fact that their touch could kill human beings, Carrington proceeds to set an elaborate trap to convince the human race of their evil ways.

I say elaborate - that’s actually putting it mildly. Carrington’s trap is so convoluted that the average episode of Lewis resembles a Join-The-Dots book by comparison. Basically, three alien astronauts are captured for use by Carrington for Heldorf’s use. They are then captured by Reegan via Carrington, while framing a couple of thugs with haircombs and foreign papers. Reegan then acts on Carrington’s instructions to make them carry out targeted raids on various high-security locations, killing innocents in the process and making them look like evil alien thugs. Not only that, but one of the astronauts is kidnapped and subjected to a terrifying Jeremy Kyle-esque fate by appearing on national TV as a public hate figure. To muddy the water further, there seem to be about a million and one co-conspirators including Collinson, Quinlan and (well, you’d never guess it), Bruno Taltallian.

If there’s one fault of Ambassadors, then it’s that the overly complicated plot is a bit off-putting. There are so many detours and twists that seeing Ambassadors again is a bit like navigating your way around Hampton Court Maze while working out Sudoku puzzles at the same time. What I like about the serial though is that when it comes to revealing the mastermind behind the whole thing, it throws you off the scent. And here’s the thing – Carrington is seen to be a blatantly obvious candidate, and yet, Ambassadors throws you off the track with so many red herrings that his ‘surprise’ reveal at the end of Episode Six still works. Over the six episodes, we see a man whose sanity is gradually stripped away to the point where his crazed rants prompt Cornish to proclaim that I think he’s insane. Wow, there’s no getting past Cornish, is there?

Carrington’s insanity is very well portrayed by John Abineri in what’s probably the best of his four Who appearances. Starting off as a shifty but apparently four-square military man, Abineri convincingly plays Carrington as a walking time bomb of a character. By Episode Four, he’s already suggesting that the aliens are at fault, despite The Doctor’s protests. By Episode Six, his rantings are already paving the way for what’s to come. And by the last instalment, he’s using his authority to get his own way, no matter what the consequences. He arrests The Brigadier. He commandeers the TV coverage of the alien reveal. And he even fails to acknowledge that what he did was wrong, instead claiming that it’s his moral duty. Carrington isn’t so much a baddie, more a seriously misguided fanatic who’s abused his power to distort the facts on a lunatic scale. In The Face Of Evil, The Doctor comments: The very powerful and the very stupid have one thing in common. They don't alter their views to fit the facts. They alter the facts to fit the views. Well, that sure sums up Carrington, but Abineri’s pitch-perfect performance means that this is a three-dimensional baddie rather