Love and Liberty

Do you want to watch some Doctor Who?

Aliens from the past; wonders from the future; all of time and all of space. It’s the trip of a lifetime…

But how to choose? There are so many stories! Where to start? Which Doctors? What style? Monsters, villains, scary horror? Wit, weirdness, wild ideas? Adventures in history, alien worlds, impossibilities in famous landmarks? Fun? Don’t scream!

Here’s my idea. One story at a time, ten reasons at a time to give you a taste of if you might like it.




November 23rd will be Doctor Who’s fifty-second anniversary, and it’s an important and popular fact that there are fifty-two weeks in a year. That gave me an idea. To celebrate fifty-two years of Doctor Who, the most brilliant television programme and the greatest idea in the history of the world, I’m going to pick one story I love, starting next week, each week for a year. Then every Saturday – because it has to be Saturdays – give you ten reasons why you should give it a go and put on the latest DVD I’ve chosen along with me. They may not be ten good reasons. They may be silly ones, strange ones or ones quite unsuitable for children. But they’ll be my reasons and, I hope, some will tickle your fancy too and make you want to watch some of the stories I’ll be recommending. And my husband will be doing the same! But different.

Oh, and if you’ve never watched an episode, don’t know the show, and want to find out anything about Doctor Who at all…? The best way is just to pick one and watch it. Which I’ll start with next week (or, for UK viewers, tune in to the next adventure on BBC1 tonight, or the Horror Channel on weekdays). But if you want to read something about why first, here’s one I prepared earlier: So Who is The Doctor Anyway? All You Need To Know About Doctor Who. I said there – though obviously I added more that you might want to know – that all you need to know is this:

The Doctor is a traveller in time and space. He goes anywhere he likes, from Earth’s past, present and future to alien worlds and stranger places still. He respects life rather than authority, and obeys no-one else’s rules. He lives by his own joy in exploring new places and times, and by his own moral sense to fight oppression. He prefers to use his intelligence rather than violence, and he takes friends with him to explore the wonders of the Universe.

That’s it.

Here, As I’ve Promised Ten Things, Are Ten Rules I’ve Set Myself For What I’ll Do Each Week

(There’s a more interesting list further down.)

1 – Rules are for breaking.

2 – I’m only picking stories which were on TV, so you can easily pick them up on DVD (and most can be bought in other formats).

3 – These are all stories I love in one way or another, but not quite my ‘Top 52’. I’ll be trying to give more of a mix. So, for example, every Doctor’s going to have about four or five stories. Except when they don’t (see Rule 1).

4 – One of the things I most love about Doctor Who is that if you don’t like one of them, next week’s might be entirely different. So I’m amplifying that effect by not putting these stories in chronological order. I’m not writing a history of Doctor Who, but trying to tempt and divert you with an assortment from all over the place.

5 – Except that sometimes I’ll put several stories with similar themes in a row, to illustrate how different the styles can be. Or just because I like that sort of thing. And also except that most of the stories will have some sort of link to the next one in line. Sometimes it’ll be tenuous, sometimes it’ll be obvious, sometimes it’ll be a link of sorts to the next couple along. And I’ll let you guess each week. I’ve already decided the whole set of stories, and in order, too (see Rule 1).

6 – I’m doing this for fun, so don’t expect all of it to make sense.

7 – Spoiler warning: there won’t be spoilers every time, but where the thing I love best about a story is a giant spoiler, that’ll be towards the bottom of the list so you can read at least some of the ten.

8 – There might be some extras, some weeks. Rule 2 excludes a lot of brilliant books, comics, audio plays and other forms of Doctor Who which may be less accessible, but if I have the energy to post weekly, which on past performance is quite a gamble, I might even find the energy to post some shorter mid-week reasons to read, look at or listen to some of those. Possibly including some 1960s Doctor Who TV stories which, although brilliant, only exist as soundtracks because the BBC burnt a lot of the originals, thinking nobody was interested. I’m likely to choose extras that are in some way in tune with that week’s DVD choice, so you can have a guess at those links too, if you like.

9 – And I’m not going to stick to just ten reasons to watch each story, either. There’ll be a few extra details each time. Including (shh) in the small print, probably, any reasons you might, well, not not want to watch it exactly, but have a tiny warning about something that might make you want to watch it a bit less.

10 – It might seem a bit odd in the day of the box set binge and streaming complete seasons to pick just one story at a time. That’s because the BBC have only released about a third of Doctor Who’s Thirty-four / midway through Thirty-five seasons as DVD box sets (though more might soon be downloadable like that in packages from BBC Store). Most of those are from the series’ return to TV in 2005, where for marketing purposes they started counting again at “Series One,” partly as a relaunch and partly because it would otherwise be embarrassing to admit when people asked, ‘If this is number Twenty-seven, can I get The Complete Season One Box Set?’ that they’d burnt some of those stories so they’re difficult to put on DVD. Though Season One is still one of my favourites, even the bits I can’t see of it. However, let’s say every complete year’s-worth of Doctor Who was collected in its own box, or I just fancied bingeing on seasons rather than individual stories. Counting down in roughly reverse order, here’s another list of ten to gorge on:

Ten Doctor Who Box Sets To Binge On (if they were all in box sets, and if I felt like bingeing)

10 – Season Thirty-four / Series Eight (2014, Peter Capaldi)
A Good Man…? Because Peter Capaldi is brilliant, because so much else about the series feels suddenly refreshed, because it’s by far my favourite season since Steven Moffat took the helm, because I’m always hopeful that Doctor Who will be better. So when’s the next one on? Ah! Tonight! Wonder if that’ll make the 52…?
Stories: Deep Breath, Into the Dalek, Robot of Sherwood, Listen, Time Heist, The Caretaker, Kill the Moon, Mummy on the Orient Express, Flatline, In the Forest of the Night, Dark Water / Death In Heaven

9 – Season Thirteen (1975-1976, Tom Baker)
Body Horror – because the Doctor and Sarah Jane Smith (Elisabeth Sladen) are such a wonderful team, and because its visceral, colourful horror makes it probably the least suitable thing for children ever, which is why it absolutely thrilled me aged four and I’d heartily recommend it to any child who enjoys nightmares.
Stories: Terror of the Zygons, Planet of Evil, Pyramids of Mars, The Android Invasion, The Brain of Morbius, The Seeds of Doom

8 – Season Seven (1970, Jon Pertwee)
Exiled To Earth – because every single story is rather brilliant, and Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart (Nicholas Courtney) and Dr Elizabeth Shaw (Caroline John) are very brilliant, even though there’s not a lot of TARDIS or playfulness.
Stories: Spearhead from Space, Doctor Who and the Silurians, The Ambassadors of Death, Inferno

7 – Season Sixteen (1978-1979, Tom Baker)
The Key to Time – because it’s enormously enjoyable. This is Doctor Who at its most fairy-tale, fluffy and fun, it’s the best place to watch K-9, and the show’s first serious ‘story arc’. Which is rarely serious at all, thanks particularly to some of the best writers ever to work on the show – such as Robert Holmes, David Fisher and Douglas Adams.
Stories: The Ribos Operation, The Pirate Planet, The Stones of Blood, The Androids of Tara, The Power of Kroll, The Armageddon Factor

6 – Season Twenty-Nine / Series Three (2007, David Tennant)
You Are Not Alone – because the individual stories are mostly very strong, the through-theme of human (or Time Lord) nature is stronger, and David Tennant finds his feet as the Doctor in suffering (and possibly through Freema Agyeman’s fantastic Martha Jones giving him a kick in the arse).
Stories: Smith and Jones, The Shakespeare Code, Gridlock, Daleks In Manhattan / Evolution of the Daleks, The Lazarus Experiment, 42, Human Nature / The Family of Blood, Blink, Utopia / The Sound of Drums / Last of the Time Lords

5 – Season Eighteen (1980-1981, Tom Baker)
Decay and Change – because it’s the ultimate in Who ‘concept albums’ from lead writer Christopher H Bidmead, best watched all the way through, a marvellous mixture of ideas and images for Tom Baker’s long finale. Everything ends, everything changes, but with an irresistible sense of hope.
Stories: The Leisure Hive, Meglos, Full Circle, State of Decay, Warriors’ Gate, The Keeper of Traken, Logopolis

4 – Season Twenty-Six (1989, Sylvester McCoy)
New Games – because Doctor Who went out, for a while, on a high, inspiring New Adventures to come in one of the most intelligent, innovative and impressive years in the history of the series, and where Ace (Sophie Aldred) comes to the fore in a very female-focused set of stories.
Stories: Battlefield, Ghost Light, The Curse of Fenric, Survival

3 – Season Twelve (1975, Tom Baker)
New Birth and Cold Science – because this was the first Doctor Who season I ever saw, and I’ve always loved it. Lead writer Robert Holmes and producer Philip Hinchcliffe come in with an amazing set of stories, still more amazing in their thematic unity, cold, stark visuals reflecting stories of fascistic elites placing survival at all costs over what makes us human, a mixture of sterility and rebirth, but all with the warmth of the Doctor, Harry and Sarah Jane.
Stories: Robot, The Ark in Space, The Sontaran Experiment, Genesis of the Daleks, Revenge of the Cybermen

2 – Season Twenty-seven / Series One (2005, Christopher Eccleston)
The Trip of a Lifetime – because Doctor Who was back on television, and more fantastic than I’d dared to hope. Christopher Eccleston’s war survivor and Billie Piper’s shop assistant journey together and bring out the best in each other in a bright and optimistic series that’s – as lead writer Russell T Davies put it – steeped in death. Still gorgeous to look at, too.
Stories: Rose, The End of the World, The Unquiet Dead, Aliens of London / World War Three, Dalek, The Long Game, Father’s Day, The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances, Boom Town, Bad Wolf / The Parting of the Ways

1 – Season Fourteen (1976-1977, Tom Baker)
Dark Religion – because Tom Baker, Philip Hinchcliffe and Robert Holmes – and Doctor Who – reach their height. Tales of Gothic horror, intelligent science, imagination, black humour, and so much more. Watch them all and find out.
Stories: The Masque of Mandragora, The Hand of Fear, The Deadly Assassin, The Face of Evil, The Robots of Death, The Talons of Weng-Chiang

You see? Extras. But don’t assume you can work out what’s coming from these imaginary box sets – or even who are my favourite Doctors. For a start, I’m always changing my mind, and on top of that, the Doctor I currently love the most isn’t even in any of those seasons, but he will have several stories in the weekly 52.

Where will I start? Where will it all end (will it end at all)? Tune in next Saturday, and every Saturday for the next year, to find out which Doctor Who story I love that I’m going to give you ten reasons to watch. If you can believe I’ll do it, I might.

Look – look. I think it’s started…

Labels: Doctor Who, Doctor Who 52, Made-up DVD Sets, The Golden Dozen, Trailers

Counting down towards the fiftieth birthday of Doctor Who with Fifty great scenes… The Doctor’s finished on the telly again, and who most wants him finished? With Doctor Who – The Mind of Evil released this week to complete a rival Time Lord’s adventures on DVD, it’s about time to follow Number 40’s “I’m the Doctor” with a hostile takeover:

“I am the Master.”

And while sometimes I add a second Bonus Quotation here, something’s got into my head (a sort of drumming) and now there are rather more. More spoilers, as well. So, peoples of the Blogosphere: please attend carefully…

“I am many things.”

Springtime for the Master! If he ruled the world, every first day of Spring would be the blizzard (possibly of flying killer heads) that this year’s started out with. After not being at all well and getting out of the habit of writing this Fifty, it’s now the end of Spring, but cast your mind back to the beginning of the season and perhaps it’s just as well that I didn’t post this on the frozen 20th of March – despite it appropriately being a broadcast anniversary of the Axons. Even the alternative date for the start of Spring was still frosty, despite the 1st of April appropriately being a broadcast anniversary of some Sea Devils. And yet the Master’s been very much on my mind, not just nagging me to write but with his own two very special bank holidays – first Beltane, then the Master for one night only from in 1996 (or 1999). The Master, if you didn’t know, is almost the Doctor’s other half – an old friend who also left the Time Lords, but to rule the Universe, not just to see it, longing to make everyone else feel small. He became a jealous enemy across many of his and the Doctor’s lives, and a jack-in-the-box of irresistibly nasty fun across many of years of our television. I may have missed the daffodils, but his blooms last, so here’s something of the first plastic flowering of each Master, most of all the original. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Have a chair…

“This plastic has got unique properties, Mr McDermott. Allow me to demonstrate.”

The Master (Roger Delgado) is a suave, powerful presence with dark, hypnotic eyes and a deep, hypnotic voice. Usually wearing a dark, pointed beard and a dark, elegant suit – most often a round-collared black Nehru suit – he’s also to be found disguised in everything from self-aggrandising pseudonyms to flamboyant robes to the grubby overalls and rubbery face of a phone engineer. The personification of charm when he needs to be; smiling and playful, albeit with his own murderous sense of humour; given to savage flashes of anger. His ambition is to rule the Earth, or occasionally the galaxy, though with an underlying need for the Doctor’s attention – before he kills him in an amusing way. To overcome his status as a one-man band, he forms alliances with a variety of alien races to do is legwork… Always (over-)confident that he can dispose of them when they’re no longer of use, rather than the other way round.

Terror of the Autons is the Master’s first appearance, materialising in the first scene of Doctor Who’s Eighth Season and immediately dominating the show – and the petty ‘big man’ to whom he introduces himself. By the time the Doctor gets a look in, still less when a Time Lord belatedly turns up to warn him of the Master’s arrival, the new villain has already stolen the show (and much more besides). Aiming to create a new spearhead for the Nestene Consciousness and their power over plastic, he’s found Rex Farrel, a young plastics factory manager in a rather nasty fashionable suit eager to make his mark after years following his father’s orders. Unfortunately for him, his new big customer in a much more impressively cut dark suit and gold tie is “Colonel Masters”: meet the new boss; very much not the same as the old boss. But Mr Farrel Senior’s left James McDermott, his own bluff, practical production manager in a sober suit, to report back to him in case his son mucks about too much, and McDermott patronisingly tells Rex the company’s not going to dump all its old customers for a mystery man with no paperwork. McDermott calls up the old man; Rex calls in “Colonel Masters”…

Not liking a new face, McDermott begins with a tirade about changing the plastics mix and ruining a day’s production. The Master is polite, urbane, amused, and shows off a shiny black fat square cushion of material that isn’t to McDermott’s taste at all. But he doesn’t appreciate its unique properties – or the Master’s. At a click of his fingers, the square begins to expand and, to off-key synthesiser music, slithers into the form of a shiny black fat square armchair. Rex seems curiously blasé, but an unsettled McDermott licks dry lips and weakly asks if the new customer is a magician as well as a Colonel. The Master answers quietly, staying still, ominous, powerful, while McDermott fidgets and flails about, trying to assert himself and the company as he knows it. The Master moves to stand behind the inflated chair, arms astride it proprietorially, and strikes a warm, friendly tone:

“Look, why don’t you try it?”
“Well, you’ll never sell that, I’ll tell you that for nothing. Sure, it looks like – like a black pudding.”
“Try sitting in it.”
“It’s got a cold clammy feel to it. Now plastic should be warm and dry to the touch—”
“Sit down, man!”

McDermott’s been eyeing the chair uneasily and prodding it like a first-time swimmer at the water’s edge – but the Master’s sudden whiplash of will is that of a villain who’s suddenly tired of the shaggy dog and wants to skip to the punchline. McDermott can’t help but sit. The moment he does, the chair starts to writhe again, wrapping itself around him and, rearing over his head, suffocating his screams within its thick, blobby synthetic mass and the thick, blobby synthesiser music.

The Master has instant presence, and you can’t tear your eyes from McDermott in the chair. But the third person in the room is in his own way just as fascinating – Rex has come entirely under the Master’s spell, but is shocked for a moment by the horrible death. The Master raises a hand to stop him stepping forward… And, everything over, Farrel is nonchalant again. More even than the Doctor’s companion, Rex is the personification of the viewer here, finding the thrilling new villain utterly compelling, briefly shocked by horror daring you to reject him, then back to watercooler-chat complicity as he steps to the intercom for a killingly funny businessman’s response:

“Sylvia? Will you check Mr McDermott’s entitlement on termination of employment, please?”

Rex Farrel – and the rest of us – are already so far back in the Master’s thrall after all this showing off that when he hilariously affects humility at the waste of so much material for one simple death we’re with Rex in saying, no, no, that was an impressive one, honestly. And like Rex, we want to know what the Master means when he gives a playful smile and promises efficient death with just a few inches of plastic:

“The human body has a basic weakness. One which I shall exploit – to assist in the destruction of humanity.”

I’ve written about the death at the plastics factory before – I didn’t see the Master’s showpiece scene on screen until more than twenty years after it was broadcast, but I saw it in my mind’s eye as a thrilled little boy reading one of the first books I ever bought, Terrance Dicks’ novelisation Doctor Who and the Terror of the Autons, and not only does it grip you (and Mr McDermott) on TV, it’s just as gripping on the page. Though it makes Rex more sympathetic by taking away his punchline, permitting him more struggling shock and generally removing the impression that his appreciation of the patronising right-hand-man’s death is an eagerness to murder his father by proxy, it gives the Master a terrible gag that I’ve always loved. You can read what in my in-depth review of the novel here, complete with that very scene as my selection of choice (and a terrifying picture of little me). And if you keep watching the DVD, the Master gets another deft little punchline later along the way…

In both forms, this is the Master’s crucial establishing moment – it’s such an outrageously exaggerated swagger of a scene that you just know he’s going to be fun to watch if he’s prepared to put on such a show for an audience of two one (give or take eight million). I don’t know if the phrase ‘hiding behind the sofa’ was in common currency yet back in 1971 or if the Master has always had the power to serendipitously subvert both the show and its viewers even before the clichés have formed to be subverted, but he reaches out to the audience’s safe place and deliciously makes it something to hide from. Similarly, the whole confrontation comes across like a scene from ’60s industrial power-play drama The Plane Makers being warped out of recognition by a devil from another genre stepping into it for a laugh. Perversely, of course, it also made me long for a blow-up plastic chair.

Each time the Master’s been reintroduced to the TV series – The Deadly Assassin, Logopolis, Last of the Time Lords, all below – Terror of the Autons has been the source text that the writers have looked to for inspiration, most of all Russell T Davies as John Simm takes over and, heretically, delivers for me the best interpretation of that original concept’s viciously playful streak. Roger Delgado is fantastic in this scene, but in other points of his first story he doesn’t yet seem as at ease, as in control, to simply be enjoying himself so much as he does growing into the part. So if you’re inspired by this selection to mount your own ‘The Seven Faces of the Master’ retrospective, while Robert Holmes’ Terror of the Autons is the definitive Master script, you might consider for slightly more compelling stories on screen and with Mr Delgado’s definitive Master performances either The Dæmons, in which he puts on a robe so resplendent it makes vaunting a blow-up chair seem almost introverted and then summons the Devil, or The Mind of Evil, out at last this week and making the whole of the Master’s adventures now available on DVD, in which he gets a big cigar, a big car and a big coat to play the part as a fabulously louche Bond villain.

Bonus Great Doctor Who The Master Quotation 1 – The Deadly Assassin

The Master (Peter Pratt) is a daring reinvention of the character, his charm, his humour, his looks, even his skin stripped away, though still boasting a deep, powerful voice. Rather than take the obvious option of simply making him a new regeneration like a new Doctor, Robert Holmes introduces the Master for the second time no longer as the Doctor’s ‘naughty brother’ but his dark side, all his narrow escapes having cost him every life and stretched him to the end of his thirteenth body – after which even a Time Lord must die. A rotting, ravaged ghoul wrapped in a tattered cowl, he’s still walking because he simply refuses to die… And because hate for the Doctor and the other Time Lords keeps him alive. This is The Master Unplugged, stripped to his essence, smouldering with pain and hatred and more impatient than any of his other lives. There’s no time for amusing banter, but only to renew himself at any cost (in fact, preferably at a terrible cost – not merely a killer for fun but a fiend who glories in chaos and destruction). He’s lost his vanity – though the hypnotic power that once seemed like seduction now blazes forth as sheer mental domination. He’s given up his delusions of grandeur – and ironically forms an utterly selfish plan that promises death on his grandest scale yet. He doesn’t hide behind pseudonyms – instead presenting his hideous face almost with pride and bellowing his name as if that is all that he has left. It’s almost as influential an introduction as his first, with the idea of the Master as walking corpse such a powerful one that he’s never quite whole again.

The Master has lured the Doctor back to their home planet of Gallifrey and framed him for the killing of the President – in part as a complex attempt to get his hands on the ancient relics of the Presidency and unlock the secrets of the Time Lords, though mostly to gloat. He will rip their power source away to bring himself new life, destroying their world and perhaps destabilising the Universe itself, making the story – for my money, Doctor Who’s best – a uniquely apocalyptic film noir. In the crypt where the Head of the Presidency and all its regalia lie in state, the Master rises from apparent death to seize them, only to be interrupted by the Doctor and two old Time Lords (the local police chief and the local librarian). As with Terror of the Autons, the confrontation of these equal and opposites is all the more effective for being held back until the finale, and the Master steps from the shadows, pissed off beyond endurance, to answer the Doctor back:

“The Master’s consumed with hatred. It’s his one great weakness.”
“Weakness, Doctor? Hate is strength.”
“Not in your case. You’d delay an execution to pull the wings off a fly.”

Even as the camera lingers on the Master’s gun – and he’s never more brutally trigger-happy than here – even as he’s twisted with physical agony, even he’s as kept alive by his absolute focus on the most important person in his life, the subject of all his rage and envy and vengeance, the one who he’s crafted all this to get his attention before he dies in disgrace, the Doctor still just dismisses him. That hurts.

Bonus Great Doctor Who The Master Quotation 2 – The Keeper of Traken

I did warn you there were spoilers, didn’t I?


The Master (Geoffrey Beevers) remains a twisted, skeletal wreck of himself, but has had to learn patience. He’s found another astronomically powerful Source to steal a new life from, but at the price of sitting it out on a planet that might make him regret calling the Doctor “insufferably good”; on Traken, evil simply gives up and calcifies. But he’s safe inside his TARDIS – disguised as a gorgeously twisted statue, a Melkur of local legend – and uses his time well to plot not just how to gain control but how to twist and corrupt a people kept without real knowledge of good and evil by the Keeper of the world exerting moral sense on everyone’s behalf. The Master here is an outstanding corruptor, blatantly the serpent in this Eden and with a marvellously silky, persuasive voice, pan-fried in evil with extra goose fat. As Richard says, this isn’t just evil. This is rich, gloating M&Ster evil. From the mildness of a wise advisor to the high, gloating glee of triumph at last, the Master’s greatest weapon is his voice. Though blazing energy beams from Melkur’s eyes come in handy, too.

The Master has waited until the old Keeper’s thousand-year reign is faltering, and turns a bride’s love into his instrument for removing the chosen successor. Again, the confrontation between the Doctor and the hidden Master is reserved for the finale – with one stunning scene in particular as the Master taunts him, and demonstrates that surrendering all your decisions to absolute godhood is a dangerous thing – but there are some marvellous exchanges between the Doctor and the Melkur as it slowly evolves from the ivy-covered feature in the background to a creepy walking statue at the centre of events. And it places itself most literally at the centre as the old Keeper dies: with the benign controlling intelligence of centuries suddenly gone, chaos breaks across the world in a storm of unchecked nature, and through the howling gale Melkur gloatingly offers a merciful death, its shrivelled, secret occupant looking down at the Doctor through great eye-like screens. The Doctor defies “Melkor” – appropriately recalling a famous fallen angel, and of what great order was the Doctor a member, and who fell the furthest? – but it’s too late. The Master’s catspaw is on the Keeper’s Throne. In the spellbinding last minutes of Part Three, all seems dark: the Keeper who called to the Doctor for help dead; the Master’s Machiavellian machinations turned almost the entire Court against our hero; the true nature of Melkur about to be revealed when it doesn’t merely walk but, with a wheezing, groaning sound, dematerialises to take the Throne – and, heralding that cliffhanger, long-term viewers feel the hairs rise on the backs of their necks as we see inside Melkur a room roundelled in black with a cowled plotter at the controls… Who turns to us with a great swell of music and with the ravaged face of the Master and, as all the years of insufferable imprisonment come to an end, with a tone of wonder and exultation:

“Now, this Traken web of harmony is broken. I am free…!”

Although Geoffrey Beevers’ time as the Master was a short one on television – though I do love The Keeper of Traken – the Master of voice has appropriately become the definitive audio Master, with many delicious readings of Doctor Who novels (not least Doctor Who and the Terror of the Autons) and a splendid new array of adventures for Big Finish. Perhaps the most remarkable of these is Joseph Lidster’s Master, which has more than a passing influence on TV Master stories to come…

If you find yourself in the mood for audio-play Masters, two others are available, with actors you’re highly likely to recognise and enjoy in the part. But both of them are big twists! So I’ll mention Doctor Who Unbound – Sympathy For the Devil, which was released ten years ago and so you’ll probably have heard of it if you were ever going to, but not the one from last year, which is also terrific fun (email me if you want to know). You’ll certainly remember it if you’ve heard it, and I will say that bears a remarkable resemblance to the much earlier Master story The Claws of Axos – done rather better, and very much bigger…

Bonus Great Doctor Who The Master Quotation 3 – Logopolis

The Master (Anthony Ainley) still carries the mark of having used up his lives, a synthesis of his predecessors – and of the poor schmuck whose body he stole as a consolation prize for failing to hold onto the renewing power of the Source. Dark-haired, dark-bearded, sometimes charming, he has something of the look of one prior Master, but the rotten dead heart of the other. Usually dressed in the embossed black velvet of the Traken Court – a reminder of the victim in whose dead body he scampers, father of one of the Doctor’s companions and taunting her with it horribly, while still ever more wounded in his cadaverous existence and needing help with further degradations from or for the Cheetah People, the Tzun or his own carelessness – he’s another Master with a taste for increasingly ambitious disguises, sometimes less for function’s sake than on the edge of sanity. That’s the key to this Master, whose old, confident desire for domination is mostly displaced into being more than ever a one-man band with one man on his mind, obsessed with the Doctor in as bizarre revenges as possible. Laughing all the while. And laughing. And laughing (yet I’ve not picked “Heh heh heh heh!” as his signature quote).

The Master seized a new body as the twist in the tail on Traken, but it’s by insinuating himself throughout Logopolis that he really makes his mark. Glorying in vicious deaths, stalking fear and, as ever, cutting the Doctor down to size, he’s initially little-seen but a palpable presence throughout his first full story. He may laugh a lot, but he’s got a cold, dispassionate air that’s very sinister. A cold, high, echoing music, too. This time, he’s dangerous. But even he doesn’t realise how dangerous, as his greed to find out what secret the planet Logopolis is hiding sparks the greatest catastrophe in all of Doctor Who and the Universe itself begins to unravel. He loses his nerve like a typical bully and bolts, then teams up with the Doctor not to undo the damage – nothing can do that – but to save what’s left by transmitting a new lifeline into another universe to give ours breathing space… And, recovering his composure, he finds again an eye for the main chance. Again borrowing from the iconography of Terror of the Autons, Christopher H Bidmead’s script crafts a far more powerful climax up in the dizzyingly high control room of a radio telescope. But this time they do not get on: the Doctor is revolted by everything the Master’s done, and all the Master’s overtures are ostentatiously mocking of a man he clearly thinks is past it. It’s the final episode of the story, the final episode of this Doctor, and the Master sees himself as the coming man, a lithe, Thatcherite go-getter contemptuous of self-sacrifice and concern for others. But before he finds to his shock that the real coming man is yet to come, he patronises the Doctor’s old, comfy ways and mockingly praises him for a technological deliverance that he clearly thinks he could have delivered himself – but was instead keeping the Doctor busy while he worked out how to turn it to his advantage. The Doctor knocks the Master’s congratulatory hand away as if stung – and, even as he tries to bundle the Doctor out, he can’t resist giving the game away with a good taunt. The gloves are off…

“So it works. Congratulations, Doctor. I always knew you’d do it.”
“You did most of this.”
“Oh, no. I was little more than a humble assistant – but I have learned a great deal. And now I think it’s time for you to go and explain the presence of your friends. There’s quite a hubbub outside.”
“You’re quite right. One mistake now could ruin everything.”
“I know that, Doctor – and it could happen so easily.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Universe is hanging on a thread. A single recursive pulse down that cable and the CVE would close forever. Even a humble assistant could do it.”

Logopolis is probably Mr Ainley’s most dangerous performance – and certainly his Master’s most deadly effect – but, if you want a wider variety of Doctor in your ‘The Seven Faces of the Master’, like Mr Delgado he has other stories worth a look. I’d recommend Planet of Fire for a different and rather glorious interpretation of the Master in which he has a great deal of fun and is pitted for the last time against the ‘new’ Doctor who becomes his arch-enemy as they were in the early ’70s. Then there’s a more different still portrayal in Survival, Mr Ainley’s last TV appearance but, as with his first, not quite managing to finish off the Doctor (here one who shares Mr Ainley’s birthday, and his companion’s, too).

Bonus Great Doctor Who The Master Quotation 4 – The TV Movie: Time Waits For No Man

The Master (Eric Roberts) comes back from being executed first as a wriggling morphant monstrosity and then to possess yet another body, this time an unlucky paramedic. A mere human body begins to rot immediately, though his inner wriggling thing does at least give him the ability to spit sticky and occasionally hypnotic bile at those who get in his way. First underplayed, charismatic and rather sexy, his chiselled, clean-shaven features looking cool in shades, when bits start falling off his rapid deterioration leads to a waspish temper and a desperation to get the Doctor’s body – no, not like that. Oh, I dunno though. He also puts on his grandest frock yet for that big occasion. And yet he’s still not ‘the camp one’.

The Master has charmed a street gangster to his side with hard-luck tales of how – well, he’s no saint, but that awful, awful Doctor! A substantial quantity of gold helps. And the Doctor has made the mistake of choosing his companion rather less well: she’s already killed him once, she doesn’t believe him, and she’s more concerned with her sofa than his TARDIS. Never mind poor Mr McDermott: this is the sofa to really fear. And to top it all, she’s gooily hypnotised by the Master into abetting his S&M torture-possession plans, in a story that does millennialism considerably more stupidly than the one two above. And yet this Master is great fun and more of a mirror to the Doctor than he’s been in years, full of black humour when the Doctor plays it straight and, yes, I’m afraid heavily coded as the Hollywood Homosexual of Evil against a suddenly straight Doctor. I can’t help but enjoy both one-night-only Time Lords taking the piss immensely, and most of all as the Doctor wakes and expresses sheer incredulity as the Master’s companion swallows everything, his own slaps him because she’s evil now rather than merely banal, then the Master interrupts him, flouncing down the stairs with a flourish like Blanche turning up to the end of the world, which only the Doctor seems to notice:

“You! You took my things – where are they?”
“They’re not your things any more. Pretty soon, everything around here’s going to belong to the Master again.”
“Again? What’s he been telling you?
“When he gets his body back from you, I’m going to be rich.”
“And you believe him?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I suppose he neglected to mention that there won’t be any place to spend your money?”
“Which is why we have no time to waste.”
“But time to change!”
“I always dress for the occasion.”

Bonus Great Doctor Who The Master Quotation 5 – Utopia

I really, really did warn you there were spoilers, didn’t I?


Professor Yana (Derek Jacobi) is a brilliant, eccentric scientist, perhaps the last – the savant at the end of the Universe (no longer delayed). An old man with a young companion, dressed in old-fashioned clothes, selflessly helping everyone (though it would be nice, just once, to get a little credit), with strange twinges of memory about time travel, the Doctor’s companion accidentally alerts him to the significance of the Gallifreyan symbols on his pocket watch. Not long before, the Doctor had used such a watch to hide his true self while living a normal life in a body and person made suddenly human. So with this dear old man so obviously Doctorish, surely there couldn’t be any doubt who’d be inside when he opened the watch…

The Master (Derek Jacobi) is older than some, with grey hair and an old body… But he finds new vigour and purpose – and newly compelling, dark eyes – when his whispering inner self takes over again (and you’ll recognise some of those voices). If you remember him sitting waiting inside a statue, an even better disguise was sitting inside a nice man (sweet? Effete!). If you think he was in drag last time, this was a performance so great that he was lost in it. And if the Doctor’s deepest wish when he had to make himself a new person to hide in was to become an ordinary man, the Master’s deepest wish was to be the Doctor… But just a little bit better. Fleeing service in the Time War, tormented by the drums in his head, in recovering himself the Master’s a real live wire, suddenly turning with contempt on his other life and his friend, sneering at and scorning everything about her – unwisely – and leaping back into murder and sabotage for spite. That came very easily.

This really shouldn’t be here at all. I may not be breaking the laws of my Fifty, but I am— no, hang it, I am breaking them, because here’s a moment, quite a bit of a moment, that’s going to turn up again later. I won’t tell if you won’t. This is only a part of it where, let’s say, the Master has seized control of the Moment. That sounds ominous, and it is. To simply fantastic music, the greatest outing for the 2007 theme we know as ‘Dance of the Macra’, Professor Yana has gazed into the abyss, the abyss has gazed greedily back and, with his most disturbing and brilliantly portrayed possession so far, the Master now takes possession again of – himself. Locked outside, humanity’s twisted, cannibal offshoots the Futurekind bay in hungry frustration as, above, humanity’s more hopeful survivors soar off in search of Utopia; below, the Doctor is confronted with the appalling realisation that You Are Not Alone. And, at the heart of the otherwise abandoned outpost, Professor Yana’s friend Chantho is being confronted with evidence that her friend may no longer be in residence. Black-eyed and delighting in life again, the man in his place is about to rediscover a taste for murder, but first can’t resist some playful, vicious fun as he operates the master controls first to lock the Doctor away from his TARDIS, then to let the Futurekind into the silo to greet (and eat) the Doctor and his friends. Chantho is appalled; the Doctor panics as a massive door slams in his face; and the Master – oh, the Master makes me laugh.

“Chan—but you’ve locked them in—tho…?”

[“Get it open! Get it open!”]

“Not to worry, my dear. As one door closes, another must open.”

Bonus Great Doctor Who The Master Quotation 6 – Last of the Time Lords

The Master (John Simm) is young, and strong, and we see that he’s at last won that new lease of life – he explodes from his previous self’s mortally wounded body with a new voice and new hyperactivity. Or is it simply that, taunted by the Doctor’s survival and rejuvenation, he regenerates by sheer force of will? He bounds away from the end of the Universe and lays a long plan, taking the Earth, a wife and leadership of his most insanely loyal allies yet. He spends months building himself up as Harold Saxon, charismatic Prime Minister and saviour. Urbane, excitable, with just a hint of madness, he’s more spectacularly hypnotic than ever before, and more than any other Master a mirror of and match for the Doctor. And that viciously playful streak is given full reign – over all the Earth, the Universe to follow – with not just taunts, and pranks, and killing again and again, but now dance. Handsome in an untrustworthy way, dark-haired but clean-shaven, he tends to wear sharply tailored black suits and ties, but with just a flash of purple inner lining to mock a Doctor’s cape of old (though after things go a little wrong even with his back-up plan, he turns up again rather the worse for wear and rather more on the side of madness than urbanity, less cheeky than feral). And if the Master really were the Doctor’s equal, what would that mean? He’d win. He does.

The Master takes over the world and the lead – it’s only a shame that Russell T Davies didn’t also remake the title sequence starring John Simm in THE MASTER. The reborn Master can hardly contain himself when at last he gets to speak to the Doctor; he tells him to run, taking command of the whole narrative; he rejoices in teasing him as a public menace; he proclaims the fall of the human race. Well, one of them, anyway. Topping every other writer’s conception of him as fallen angel, he stages the Rapture with terrible pedantry and glories in his legions of the Damned fleeing the ultimate judgement day. And, for a fan who loves The Deadly Assassin more than any other story and grew up intoxicated by novelisations of Roger Delgado’s stories, this tour-de-force follows through on the Master’s original promise and reaches through the screen to take control of me, too: he’s never better than in this story, and it’s an amazing performance, taking everything that Robert Holmes gave the character to set sail and flying away with it. It’s the most fun he’s had since the Chair – this time with the Cabinet. And he’s both very, very funny and utterly horrible. This is perfectly encapsulated a year into his reign, riding high above the Earth, tormenting a Doctor he’s long made a captive audience and aged to infirmity, always ready to make him feel small. He sees the Doctor making a grab for his laser screwdriver and revels in his failure, helping him back to his wheelchair, staring into his face, derisively ‘commiserating’ with him – then laughing in sheer delight.

“There you go, Gramps. Oh, do you know? I remember the days when the Doctor – oh, that famous Doctor – was waging a Time War, battling Sea Devils and Axons. He sealed the rift at the Medusa Cascade, single-handed. Phew. And look at him now. Stealing screwdrivers. How did he ever come to this? Oh yeah – me!”

Here’s to many more Masters – future and past.


Next Time… Who could follow that?


[Number 38 has already been published, but its “Next Time…” would simply have been “Happy Easter!”]

Labels: Big Finish, David Tennant, Doctor Who, Doctor Who 50, Jon Pertwee, Made-up DVD Sets, New Beginnings, Paul McGann, Terror of the Autons, The Master, The Plane Makers, Tom Baker

One character from Doctor Who occupies a unique position in the series, and a unique place in fans’ hearts. Played by the lovely Nicholas Courtney, who died in February, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce served alongside no fewer than five Doctors in two dozen TV stories on screen, and many more elsewhere. For an idea of why he was so loved, why not try an entirely made up DVD box set – six DVDs, several Doctors, and the one Brigadier (or, as it turns out, more). I’ve picked out a selection that offer his very best moments. Rather than review each story in full, then, I’ve highlighted that particular golden moment – while doing my best to fillet it of spoilers, in case you’ve never seen the story before. But watch out: the last couple inevitably become more and more spoilertastic…

The Invasion

“That was just a dozen of them. I’d hate to have to meet a hundred. Forward!”

Newly promoted to Brigadier (“I’ve gone up in the world,” he proudly and wittily explains in his flying HQ in Episode Two, as we’re reintroduced to him by the sight of his arse in tight pants. Nick didn’t think that uniform flattered his bottom, but it looks fine to me) and now in charge, immortally, of the British section of UNIT, what better way is there to remember Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart than leading from the front? The centrepiece of the final episode sees a breathlessly exciting action sequence in which Patrick Troughton’s Doctor is paired with an unlikely ally in a vital mission against the Cybermen, with the Brigadier and his troops following close behind. Grim, claustrophobic location filming and jangling music frame flaming Cyberweapons in pitched battle against grenades, bazookas and the Brig barking orders. In their first story, UNIT are as professional and dangerous as they’ll ever be.

In the novelisation, delightfully, the TV version’s anonymous Russian base that provides missile support against the Cybermen is named as the “Nykortny Space Centre”. Quite right, too.

Spearhead From Space

“I know nothing about a man from space.”

The Brigadier is best known as a regular figure in the series throughout two-thirds of Jon Pertwee’s stories, and he’s essentially the lead for that Doctor’s first adventure. Watch him – X-File on the shelf behind him – introducing Dr Liz Shaw and the viewers to UNIT (“Security. Rather amusing, don’t you think? Oh, you don’t”), pedeconferencing with his Captain three decades before The West Wing, treating the Doctor as a cross between imposter and errant child, and issuing orders to shoot to kill on British soil. What’s not to love? Assured, compelling, trustworthy, he’s clearly in charge of the series; Doctor Who looks suddenly expensive, efficient and military. Fortunately, that won’t last! I reviewed the bare-bones original DVD quite some time ago, and Spearhead From Space is to be reissued in Special Edition form with its first sequel one month from today. When you pick it up, whip to half-way through Episode 1 for a quite remarkable moment when the Brigadier arrives on the scene only to find the press have been tipped off about the strange goings-on. Directed like real news footage, with cameras, mikes and journalists jostling into shot, the Brigadier’s never been more utterly believable than brusquely dismissing the press; the book lets him come up with a cover story, but on screen he delightfully switches from calm control to looking like he wants them all shot. Immediately afterwards, he orders his troops to use live ammunition (no connection!).

Mind you, the much-copied very best scene of all from the story comes along in Episode 4, with the Brigadier only coming in at the end to react (“Try the army! Well, keep trying!”) and report on the aftermath: it involves the most aggressive January sales you’ve ever seen…


This one’s a bit more spoilery, but it’s difficult to miss what the twist is when he’s on the cover of the DVD:

Inferno

“But I don’t exist in your world!”
“Then you won’t feel the bullets when we shoot you.”

Jon Pertwee’s first season as the Doctor is without a doubt the high point for the Brigadier; he’s not just in every story but at the centre of it, and sometimes a good deal more dangerous than even the Doctor is prepared for – particularly when their relationship comes close to tearing apart in the superb Doctor Who and the Silurians. If The Ambassadors of Death was out on DVD yet, it’d be very tempting just to pick those four tales as a Brigadier box set; not least because over the course of the season he moves from lead, to threat, to action hero and Mulder, to the villain in the series finale, Inferno, just as we’ve grown fond of him. In Episode 3, the Doctor is hurled into an alternative universe where his friends are fascists. And not friendly. The biggest shock is not when the Doctor’s chased by the troops that usually follow his suggestions, but when the bullying Brigade-Leader Lethbridge-Stewart is revealed (leading to perhaps the best-known actors’ anecdote in the history of Doctor Who. Fortunately, it’s told twice on the DVD to save it for posterity). Nick Courtney makes him such a different character to our very own Brig that the gripping story of the parallel world becomes far more unsettling; it’s an absolutely terrific double performance, contrasting the Brigade-Leader’s laid-back arrogance with the Brigadier’s fairness and the Brigadier’s unflappability with his terror at the end of his world.

The Green Death

“No, no, no!”
“But, Doctor, it’s exactly your cup of tea. This fellow’s bright green, apparently, and dead.”

By four years into Pertwee’s time as the Doctor, the Brigadier was a more comfortable figure; perhaps almost cosy. Perhaps the best place to see how he still stole the show is this passionately green liberal tale, where Mr Courtney seemingly effortlessly keeps in character even as his character veers from authoritarian to old softie, from canny investigator to comic relief. And back. Episode One shows off all those sides perfectly, in a more understated way to companion Jo Grant’s storyline. Trying to get a jaded Doctor involved in an investigation, then clashing with idealistic Jo over the desirability of more oil exploitation, he’s clearly become the establishment figure. While he shows that his natural views are rather conservative when talking to his friends, though, the remarkable thing about him is that later in the same episode he clashes with the big business boss that both his inclinations and his orders tell him to go along with – his integrity and intelligence means he still asks those awkward questions. Never mind fiction; if more people did that in life, the world would be a better place. Oddly, it’s every time Lethbridge-Stewart appears here out of uniform (steady; I mean in civvies) that he seems to get more shrewd and sensible.


This next one’s going to have something more of a spoiler in it than the ones above, and the one after gives the story away massively. Just so you know.

Mawdryn Undead

“Well, bless my soul. So you’ve done it again, Doctor!”

A decade after the Brigadier’s glory days, in this melancholy story Peter Davison’s Doctor returns to find him retired to a minor teaching post – and without even his memories of saving the world to show for it (he’s still stuck with a moody alien exile, but can’t even spot him). The Doctor’s prompts push a haunted Lethbridge-Stewart into a reverie of Yeti, Cybermen, Axons, Daleks, the Robot, Zygons and Doctors (or, if you’re watching the DVD Special Edition, Yeti, Cybermen, Silurians, the Master, Axons, Bok, Omega, the Robot, Zygons, curiously little Patrick Troughton and curiously much Tom Baker), all to glorious music. But everything’s not all right in a flash, or flashback: the Doctor unwisely prods at the reason for his memory loss, and you feel hurt for both of them when his old friend lashes out (watch the teacup). Cleverly, the scenes of the Brigadier not being himself are intercut with scenes of a Doctor that isn’t – then, suddenly, Nick Courtney pulls off a much more subtle but in some ways even more startling double role to his performance in Inferno, playing a younger, starchier and slimmer (how did he do that?) self. He’s terribly engaging, and more fragile than we’ve ever seen him, even getting a nonchalant comeback to the Doctor’s typical “You never did understand the interrelation of time” and a recognition of just how essential he is from one of the Doctor’s contemporary companions: “Who is that person?” asks Nyssa; “Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, of course,” replies Tegan impatiently, as if to say, ‘Don’t you watch Doctor Who?’


The Brigadier looks marvellous striding up to his helicopter (or crawling away from it) in my next choice, and who could be better recognising the Doctor, unintroduced? But there’s really just one fantastic moment to choose from the last story, and it’s part of the climax – so if you haven’t seen it, look away now:

Battlefield

“Pitiful! Can this world do no better than you as a champion?”
“Probably. I just do the best I can.”

Although the Brigadier’s appeared in many novels, comic strips and audio adventures since the original run of TV Doctor Who finished, and rejoined the world of TV’s Doctor Who for one last hurrah in The Sarah Jane Adventures: Enemy of the Bane, it’s difficult to think of a better send-off than his starring role opposite Sylvester McCoy’s Doctor in Battlefield, which opened the final season of the Twentieth Century. The story itself has its faults, but the Brigadier himself, lovingly written, shines. Called unwillingly back to be a man of action – “steeped in blood” – he takes the Doctor’s role of saving the world, believing it’s his duty, knowing that it’ll probably kill him… But determined to live to fight another day, if he can. Here, the Brigadier is hurled through a wall, then caught in an explosion, then underestimated by a Doctor and audience that mourn him in advance. And he’s never had a more heart-punchingly heroic scene than standing alone – standing firm – against a demon that wants to destroy the world.


I could have picked so many stories; the Brigadier was a lead character in the first Doctor Who story I ever saw, Tom Baker’s debut Robot, and in so many of the early novels that kept me enthralled. Sadly, the BBC have destroyed most of Nicholas Courtney’s first Doctor Who story, The Daleks’ Master Plan – in which he plays not the Brigadier, but Space Security Agent Bret Vyon – though you can still find him in action in some of it in the Lost In Time DVD set, and the whole epic soundtrack on CD. The same is true of then-Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart’s introductory story, The Web of Fear. I’ve pictured that above, a story that you can never see as audiences at the time saw it – both literally (thanks again, BBC) and for the character’s initial part as a whodunit suspect, before we know what a splendid chap he’ll turn out to be. I’ve added Doctor Who and the Auton Invasion (aka Spearhead From Space, again) to the pile as one of the best novelisations featuring the Brigadier, this time on the cover, and now read in full on CD by Caroline John, one of eight actors who’ve given us their own Brigadier in audiobook form. The Spectre of Lanyon Moor sees Nicholas Courtney himself return to the role on CD, in a full-cast adventure from Big Finish; and, last but not least, of all the many original novels of the Brigadier, none is finer and none makes him more central than Paul Cornell’s gorgeous The Shadows of Avalon. It revisits many of the themes of Battlefield, fashions the Brigadier into a character of myth, and is the only Doctor Who that makes me cry every time. Nick Courtney’s passing will make that even more guaranteed.

Strange to think I could love a soldier character so much, but I always did, and he helped make me a Liberal into the bargain. The Brigadier always seemed so true, and far more permanent than any Doctor; I hope trying out my ‘DVD box set’ will explain why more eloquently than I ever could. And if you watch the many extra features, I hope, too, that you’ll get a sense of why Nicholas Courtney himself will be so missed. I can’t get to many Doctor Who events any more, but if I do ever manage the odd one or two they’ll seem much emptier without Nick Courtney at them. I met him quite a few times, and he was always kind, funny, and uniquely beloved. A gent.

Labels: Big Finish, Doctor Who, Jon Pertwee, Made-up DVD Sets, Obituary, Patrick Troughton, Peter Davison, Sylvester McCoy, The Brigadier

Why has it all gone so wrong for the poor Archbishop of Canterbury?

Why is brave, righteous President Bush so unpopular that even the Republican candidates won’t go near him?

Why is there so much binge-drinking? Why do kids get ASBOs? And what’s the real cause of global warming?



This video has the answer.

Happy Valentine’s Day!



I love you, Richard.

Labels: American Politics, Bigotry, Comedy, Doctor Who, Gay, Ian Richardson, Made-up DVD Sets, Music, Obscure Doctor Who Jokes