The girl crept upstairs to the landing to avoid the dreadful singing. What was this ‘Old Lang Chine’, she wondered. Was it similar to Black Gang Chine? Visiting that amusement park on the Isle of Wight was the best day of her life. She wrote to Father Christmas and asked if he could magic her there on Christmas Day. But he ignored that request and gave her some walnuts and a satsuma instead. And a watch, which was strange. Her dad asked where she’d stolen it from. But she wouldn’t let him take it. The watch was how she knew the grownups were wrong. The grandfather clock downstairs was fast.

She looked at the seconds tick past and started to count down from 10. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

“Hello young lady,” said the man in the crazy colourful clothes who had just appeared. Then he waved some kind of magic torch at her. Which beeped. “Not yet,” the man muttered under his breath. “What year is it?”

“It’s 1962… No, 1963. Just started,” she replied. “I’m Sia. And I’m six.”

“So am I!” was the unhelpful reply. The man was looking around. He had yellow and black striped trousers, like that clown she saw on the Isle of Wight.

“Are you from Black Gang Chine?” she asked.

“Should I be?”

“I thought Father Christmas must have sent you to take me there. I like it there.”

“Oh, everyone loves Black Gang Chine. But would you really like to be whisked away?”

“Yes.”

“I am not sure your parents would…” The man looked at his magic torch which changed

colour to pink and started buzzing. “I don’t have much time. Can you meet me back here in…” He looked back at the torch, his eyes widened. “In ten year’s time!”

“I’ll… try,” she said. The man flickered and was gone. Sia looked at her watch; it was just one minute past twelve. Sixty of the maddest seconds of her life. She heard footsteps on the stairs and her dad calling her down. She should probably be in bed. How many sleeps is ten years?

***

Three thousand nine hundred, and seventy one. That’s according to Sia’s ten-year diary. Which was, in fact, two five-year diaries glued together. The clown man better turn up.

He did.

“Sia? Is that you?” He looked exactly the same.

“Yes,” she replied, thinking she may as well go with it. However mad. “I’m just a little older.”

“I was going to say younger!” The man banged his magic torch which was now glowing orange. “This must be happening out-of-sync. But it’s still here!”

“What’s here?” she replied.

“The thing I’m detecting. It’s always here. How are you anyway?”

“I’m okay. Quite a lot has happened.” The man looked up from his torch.

“I like your dress!” Sia was wearing a patchwork frock made from offcuts and scraps: tartan, stripes, and colourful fabrics all stitched immaculately together.

“My father calls it ‘totally tasteless’. I told him to get with it. It is 1973!” She didn’t know why she was telling him this. But she’d waited so long and had forgotten all she’d planned to say over the last decade. “That’s what I’m going to call my fashion house: Totally Tasteless. When I get my degree. Just need to pass my A-Levels.”

“No! I’ve lost the readings! Again!” He threw up his arms and grabbed his temples in frustration. “See you back here in… Ten years time. Sorry.”

“Again! Can’t you just—”

“I’ll explain later. Don’t worry about your A-Levels! They don’t make you who you are!”

Sia checked her watch as she heard the sound of her boyfriend’s footsteps coming up the stairs. Another sixty seconds gone.

***

For Sia, 1983 was worse than that book, Nineteen Eighty-Four. Much worse. But here she was again. Just in case. In case she weren’t mad. She wanted to wear her patchwork dress. But she couldn’t face it. Probably wouldn’t fit now anyway. He appeared.

“Ah, I assume you are Sia? A little older. A lot older!”

“Yes. Just don’t ask me about my A-Levels.”

“Why would I do that?” The clown man checked the reading on that infernal torch. Which, on closer inspection, was more like a remote control with a light at the end. Glowing green.

“That’s what we talked about last time…”

“Did we?”

“You’ll be disappointed. Like dad.”

“No, I won’t.” He was only half listening, checking some readings on a what looked like a digital watch display.

“I didn’t take them in the end. Life got in the way. I’m twenty six now.”

“Ah, that explains everything.” He beamed a smile at Sia. “No wonder these readings don’t make sense. Twenty years, not ten.”

Sia felt the knot in her stomach. The ache that never goes away. Her son will be ten years old this year. All those little life events she will never experience.

“There’s something missing!” The man started tapping at the device.

“My son,” she replied instinctively.

“Was he here? Did he disappear?” The man flickered. Time was running out.

“No. I gave him away. Dad insisted.” She started sobbing.

“I can’t leave you like this…” He looked at the device, alarmed. “I’ll see you again… in ten years, okay? You need to believe in yourself. There’s something special about you. Trust me.”

Sia nodded, but, when she opened her eyes, he was gone. In sixty seconds. Again.

She went downstairs, alone this time.

***

Sia was surprised the patchwork dress still fitted her. Just. Those painful evenings at Weight Watchers had paid off. Sia couldn’t wait to tell him the news. But she wasn’t entirely sure

why.

This time, the colourful man was hovering about two feet above the floor. Until he gave the device a good whack and dropped suddenly, ending up tumbling onto his back.

“I did it!” Sia smiled at the man.

“Did what?”

“Got my life back on track. Thanks to you.”

The man rose back onto his feet. “Me? Are you sure?”

“I think you’re the first person who ever believed in me. You. A magical man who only appears once every ten years for 60 seconds.”

“Interesting,” he said. “Maybe it is about you. These readings still don’t make sense.” The device was glowing orange. “What year is this?”

“1993.”

“You said you got your life ‘back on track’. Did you mean a time track?”

“No. What? I went to university as a mature student. Trained in fashion design and I’m about to open my first shop: Totally Tasteless.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Of course you did. Anything else?”

“Well, I am getting married.”

“Not to a Krontep warrior king?”

“No,” she replied, thinking that might be obvious.

“Good. That’s how I lost my last friend. But I’ve got another one coming who seems very nice. I hope I’ll meet her soon. But you never know. Days like crazy pavings.” The man realised he was not paying attention to the business in hand, literally. And sixty seconds was nearly up. Again. “No, it’s not you. It’s not a person. It’s an objec…”

The man flickered away. Without even saying he would be back. But he will. And so would she. Her fiancée may want her to move in with him. But she will never leave this house. It’s hers now and she needs to always come back here. Next time they meet, maybe she’ll have a family of her own?

***

The Doctor arrived. But there was no one there. He called out Sia’s name but there was no reply. The lights were off. No one seemed to be home, but the house was still occupied.

The Doctor spotted Sia’s patchwork dress hung on the bannister. There was a note pinned to it.

The Doctor checked the readings on his temporal transportal. They were blank. Using the white beam as a torch, he read the note:

Dear person who appears every ten years for 60 seconds,

Sorry I can’t be with you this time. I haven’t gone anywhere. I just couldn’t face it. Last time I told you I was about to get married. And I did. We were happy at first. But he insisted we moved to South Africa so he could be with his parents and start a family. I never wanted to leave this place, for obvious reasons. I’m still here. But he’s gone.   Sorry, I couldn’t face you this time. I can’t explain any more; you only have 60 seconds.

Sia, 1 January (nearly), 2003

The Doctor dropped the device in shock. But before he could pick it up, he disappeared again. Sia opened the door opposite where she was peering through the crack. She walked onto the landing and picked up the device. It flickered to life again. She noticed a reading on the screen: 3,971.

***

The device had been counting down daily until it reached one on 31 December 2012. Sia didn’t really want to see the man again. Too many memories. But it was his property and it may help him escape his strange 60-second existence.

At the stroke of midnight, as always, he flickered into being. It was 2013 and the countdown stopped. She handed him the device. Sia pointed at her watch, tapped it, and said, “On time. As always. Sorry about last time.”

The man looked at her watch. It was glowing and emitting wisps of shimmering smoke.

“Where did you get that?” His eyes were wide and he pointed the device directly at her watch. It flashed like a rainbow.

“I got it from… Father Christmas!”

“No, you didn’t. It’s a Chameleon Arch. Someone must have hidden it here. Unusual design, a wristwatch. Have you ever opened it?”

“No. The battery seems to go on forever. I’ve never needed to.”

“Good. Now give it here!” She passed the man her watch. He pressed a few buttons on his device and pointed a red beam at it. The watch disappeared. And, in a flash, so did he.

***

Sia didn’t really expect the man to appear again. But she came anyway. It was like a tradition. She was 66 now, retired, and – frankly – not really that busy. Not busy enough not to come, if that makes sense. And it was only the top of the stairs. She can head straight to bed when he doesn’t show.

“Hello Sia!”

“Hello.” It was good to see him.

“I didn’t know whether you’d come.” He smiled.

“I got a new watch. A smart one. There was an alert already set in it when I bought it. Telling me to come here without fail at midnight. It’s 2023 now.”

“Yes, I must remember to do that,” he said. Making no sense, as usual. “I like your dress.”

“I like to keep my hand in. Even if I am retired and a little… broader. I used most of the old patches.”

“Very fetching! Totally tasteless, of course, but I love it!”

“You haven’t got that electronic thing with you.”

“No, I came by another means. My usual transport. Would you like to see it?”

“Of course. Do you have my watch? I know it’s not worth anything. But it has sentimental value. Got it when I was six.”

“I still am.” He laughed. “But I am afraid I had to return it to… where I come from. If the person trapped in that device had escaped. Well, there wouldn’t be a landing for us to meet on. Or this house. This street. This planet!” The man put his arms on her shoulders and looked directly in her eyes. “You realise that, by taking care of that watch, you saved the lives of everyone on Earth.”

Sia laughed. Of course she didn’t realise.

“Don’t upset me. I’m no one special. Haven’t made much of my life. Always lived here.”

“You are exceptional! You must have an instinct buried within you. If you hadn’t stayed here, the being trapped in that watch would have escaped and wreaked unknown havoc across the universe!”

There was something insistent about the man that made her believe him.

“I don’t even know who you are!”

“I am known as the Doctor. And I will explain everything on the way…” He beckoned her to go into the spare bedroom.

“The way where?”

“You are free now. Time for an adventure or two! Behind that door is a space and time machine. Now, you tell me where you want to go!”

His eyes lit up and his smile was so wide that she couldn’t say no. If she can be crazy for all those years. She can be crazy just one more time.

Sia thought for a moment then said, “Can we just go somewhere fun?”

“Fun? That sounds familiar. Of course! All right, I’ll take you to Black… Gang Chine!”

“You remembered! But I don’t need a space machine to get there. We could go by ferry!”

“Ah, but we’re going to the opening in 1843! Then we’re going to find your son.” The Doctor started to head off into the spare room.

Sia clocked her watch. “Hey, but it’s been longer than 60 seconds!”

The Doctor poked his head around the door. “As my dear friend Louis once remarked, we have all the time in the world. Come along!”

And with that, Sia headed towards the first of their many adventures… She sometimes used to think she wasted her life waiting for the Doctor. But it turns out it was worth every minute.

The Toymaker is back! Yes, back in 1986. Except he didn’t come back. Even though the Doctor Who team wanted him back so badly that they commissioned a script. And got a script. But (complicated story you may know already) the season was cancelled. So they scrapped the script. But then…

The Toymaker is back! Yes, back in 1989. But not on TV. A novelisation of the unused script. Sort of the first of its kind. A new adventure for the Doctor in book form. Kind of a pioneer, once, amongst its own peers. Now we have loads of new Doctor Who novels. But this was the first — the original, you might say.

But it must have seemed like deja vu all over again for its writer, Graham Williams. Is he the unluckiest writer in Who? Firstly, he was given a brief to make Doctor Who more ‘family friendly’, despite the fact that millions of families across the country loved the spooky Hinchcliffe era. Then rampant inflation (remember that?) led to the budget not stretching far enough. Underworld had to be filmed in front of a blue curtain with everything added in the background using a steam-powered Megabyte Modem.

But Graham soldiered on for three variable, but often wonderful seasons. And his swan song was to be the Douglas Adams-scripted, Cambridge University-set epic: Shada! “Ahh, the untransmitted story,” says Tom Baker in the VHS reconstruction. ‘Not actually finished so not actually able to be transmitted’ would be a more accurate description.

So it must have seemed a bit of a relief — a vindication, in fact — to be asked back seven years later to launch the Sixth Doctor’s second season. And feature the Toymaker. Did I mention he’s back? Then Graham’s dreams were dashed once again. You think being ‘cancelled’ is a modern scourge. Tell that to Graham Williams in 1979 and again in 1986. I’ll wait here while you do that.

The Toymaker is back! Yes, back in 2023. Not on TV. Yes, back on TV too. But also back here in this complete and unabridged audiobook by BBC Audio. It’s read by Toby Longworth, who’s famous for playing Caw/ Squawk in The Infinite Quest. But don’t let that put you off: he does a good job. But I wonder why it isn’t Colin Baker narrating; after all, they managed to plaster a photograph of his quizzical face astride the original cover artwork, rendering it much less dramatic and interesting in the process.

While we are on the subject of Colin ‘Old Sixy’ Baker, you have to dial back all the mellowing and character development that Big Finish and Baker have honed over the last 24 years of audio adventures. Here we have Doctor Six and Peri’s fractious relationship in full flow. In fact, Graham Williams (unless script editor Eric Saward intervened) rather lays it on a bit thick, at first anyway. You wonder why the Doctor wants this person in the TARDIS, and why Perpugilliam Brown doesn’t hop on the first train from Blackpool to Lanzarote, or Baltimore, or frankly anywhere to get away from the multicoloured git from space.

Like many of the Colin Baker two-part 45-minute episodes, it takes a long time to get going. That’s because the tradition of the cliffhanger ‘big reveal’ of the enemy/monster usually happened at the end of episode one. Leaving only half the story left for them to be [spoilers!] defeated at the end. And The Nightmare Fair still suffers from that structural issue.

Plus the Toymaker, now in the ‘real world’, is rendered less mysterious and magical. He has henchmen to do his dirty work, and technology to carry out his evil plans. He seems less of the eternal demi-god from the original story, The Celestial Toymaker. But the story rattles along and Graham Williams delivers some laugh-out-loud lines and descriptions. Maybe he did more than just supply Douglas Adams with whiskey and black coffee to write City of Death?

It’s hard to imagine how the denouement with the Doctor playing a space-invaders type arcade game would have played out if filmed. But the Doctor eventually [spoilers] traps the Toymaker alive in a perpetual prison – shades of the cruel fates of the Family of Blood. Overall, it’s an enjoyable alternative history for the Sixth Doctor and Peri. And the Toymaker. Yes, he’s back. I may have mentioned it earlier.

But, of course, he wasn’t back in 1986, not on TV. Which would have changed Doctor Who history. If he had been back, then Russell T Davies may not have resurrected an old foe last seen in the mid-80s, rather than a mysterious mandarin who terrorised the First Doctor back in the 1960s. And for that we should be grateful. Sorry Graham. Cancelled again.

Sorry for the downbeat ending. You want something fun? I know, I’ll take you to… Camden!

The Nightmare Fair is out now from BBC Audio.

Doctor Who is back! And I mean back, back. Fun, lively, challenging, and (appropriately) nostalgic… It’s been 15 years since David Tennant and Catherine Tate lit up the screens as one of the very best Doctor and companion combinations (not counting the brief return for The End of Time specials). Just think, that’s almost as long as the ‘wilderness years’…

But what was remarkable was how natural it felt to have the Doctor and Donna back together. And returning showrunner, Russell T Davies, didn’t waste time. After a rather clunky (but necessary) exposition-heavy recap, it was straight into the action. Less than 30 seconds pass after the TARDIS lands before the Doctor and Donna are reunited (a reversed riff on their protracted near-misses from their previous reunion in Partners in Crime).

Another 30 seconds and we hear that (now iconic) name uttered, ‘Rose’. This is where it pays to be a longstanding but not obsessive fan of the show. For me (and you probably), we knew Donna was calling her daughter, not the Doctor’s other faithful parallel universe-stranded former companion, played by Billie Piper. That, along with the revelation about Beep the Meep being a baddie and Donna surviving for two more adventures, meant that I probably enjoyed those moments less than casual viewers.

I didn’t read Doctor Who Weekly in 1980, but I did read the original Doctor Who and the Star Beast comic (by Pat Mills and Dave Gibbons) when it was reprinted in Doctor Who Classic Comics in 1994. And, for due diligence, I reread it a few weeks ago to inform this review. I know, above and beyond… RTD has taken the essence of that story but, like the TV adaptation of Human Nature, it does not slavishly replicate the source material. However, Beep the Meep and the Wrarth Warriors have been reproduced faithfully to Gibbons’ original drawings. As well they should.

RTD has gone on record saying that these early Tom Baker comics are basically the way he writes Doctor Who. And you can see how Doctor Who and the Star Beast has influenced his writing: spaceships crash landing in city centres, urban environments and ordinary family life interrupted by aliens, even the Doctor escaping in a double decker bus happened back in the pages of Doctor Who Weekly 40+ years ago. In fact, the bones of the plot of Doctor Who and the Star Beast is essentially the same as Smith and Jones in 2007: a harmless-seeming alien is pursued by monsters who turn out to be galactic police seeking a dangerous fugitive hiding on planet Earth.

If you have read my previous reviews from the Jodie Whittaker era, you will know that I gauge part of the success of an episode by the reaction of my children: my son (12) and daughter (8). Frustratingly, the Thirteenth Doctor’s adventures were regularly characterised by both of them fidgeting, playing with other things, forgetting to follow the story, and asking questions about the logic of what is happening on screen (and me not having a suitable answer). Not so with The Star Beast. Their attention was wrapped — they laughed, gasped, and shouted ‘no!’ at appropriate moments, staying pretty-much glued to the action the whole time. This was meant to be a welcoming romp, so there were no behind-the-sofa scares in evidence. Hopefully next week…

So, what do I say? It was a glorious return to a golden era of Doctor Who, enough nostalgic call-backs to be a worthy 60th anniversary special, but pushing things forward in the development of the characters and visually more impressive than ever, thanks to the Disney+ funding… I could go on and on about how wonderful it was. And that lovely cute furry alien was so delightful… meep meep!

Oh, to hell with this. It was a steaming pile of tired tropes and laughable storytelling. The dreadful episode was a terrible missed opportunity, resorting to desperate fan service rather than pushing the boundaries of the show’s potential. Plus all that Woke nonsense about gender and sexuality, which has no place on a science fiction programme for children. The ‘Most-High’ has an uncontrollable desire to kill Doctor Who! But the ‘Most-High’ must control himself. Business before… PLEASURE!

Sorry, I don’t know what came over me… The Star Beast was always going to be in safe hands with Russel T Davies back at the helm, ably supported by veteran director Rachel Talalay, returning producers Julie Gardner, Jane Tranter, and Phil Collinson, and Murray Gold’s glorious music. It felt nostalgic rather than naval-gazing; familiar but fresh. On the whole, not the most intellectually challenging of episodes, but the most fun, thrilling adventure for many a year.

We are left with a few questions — hopefully the answers will unfold in the next two specials, or form part of the ongoing arc for the Fifteenth Doctor. First, who is the Meep’s ‘Boss’? The obvious choice would be the Toymaker, and I can’t help but think we haven’t heard the last of the Psychedelic Sun/solar psychedelia. And the Doctor’s ‘face’: why has the Tenth come back, and older? Unlike the Timeless Child ‘arc’, I suspect RTD has some suitable answers to share. What about the gonk-obsessed woman from the United Arab Emirates (Dubai or Abu Dhabi?) who buys Rose’s creations? Just a throwaway line or is RTD planting a plot seed…?

And Wilf! We know some scenes were filmed with Bernard Cribbins in a wheelchair, shortly before he sadly died. Was the footage incomplete and Ruth Madeley introduced as UNIT scientific advisor, Shirley Bingham to replace those sequences? Or will Wilf make a final appearance in The Giggle when the Doctor and Donna return to Earth? Stay tuned, as I suspect you will (I definitely will), to find out… as we head towards the Wild Blue Yonder. Allons-y!

Despite being voted the longest-running science fiction television series of all time, very little has been written about the early years of Dr WHO. But, at last, we have uncovered the secret history of TV’s venerable Timelord traveller in time/space. Let’s time-skip back more than 47 years to the nineteen hundred and sixties…

It begins with a feisty Canadian firebrand called Syd Numan who angrily arrived at the BBC in 1963 demanding that they scrap all their prestigious costume dramas and instead produce a “TV series for oddball infants who like science, history, and geometry. Or you will all get a jolly good smacked bottom!” Because he was all red in the face and in an uncontrollable rage, the frightened BBC management gave him £426, seven shillings and sixpence to produce 87 episodes a year until at least 1993.

Within minutes, Numan became bored of the idea exclaiming, “What a load of crackpot!” So he blackmailed two confused older gents, Don Winston and CBE ‘Bunny Boy’ Webster (CBE) into taking over. Both were highly experienced old-school BBC producers and, as such, had no idea what they were doing.

Winston was keen for the series to be about a mysterious ‘twerp’ stranded on planet Earth because his time machine was irreparable. Episodes would centre around his bungling efforts to fix the ship and, frustratingly, never exploring the whole of space and time; while ‘Bunny Boy’ wanted the stories to feature a team of adventurers, ‘the teenies’, whose time machine had shrunk them so small they were invisible and inaudible. “It would be very cheap because you wouldn’t need any actors,” ‘Bunny Boy’ insisted.

Numan declared both these ideas as, “Total dishwater!” So, with only half an hour left before production started, they went back to the drawing board. Out of their frantic, manic drawings, as they sobbed hot tears, a TV legend was born… Dr WHO!

The lead character would be known as ‘Doctor ?’ because he had forgotten to write down his second name, and – now more than 7 million years old – he is too embarrassed to go back and ask*. He is described as a ‘randy old codger’ who lives in a junk shop where his ship ‘Tar-Dis’ has crash-landed, with his great-granddaughter, Sue-Ann.

Tar-Dis is the most powerful space-time/time-space ship in the known solar system but it looks really crap because the BBC didn’t have the budget for anything better. The ship is pretending to be a London Police BOX, which is why ‘Dr WHO’ is often mistaken for a policeman [An AI wrote that sentence].

Sue-Ann escapes ‘Doctor’s’ clutches and, despite being more than 108, seeks refuge at the local primary school, pretending to be six years old. Her history teacher, Iain Chestnut, is suspicious because – unlike the rest of the class – Sue-Ann refuses to take a nap in the afternoons and instead dances to beat music in her fab swinging sixties gear while talking about the day she stormed the Bastille.

Chestnut tells his colleagues (and secret lovers) science teacher, Babs Right, and geometry teacher, Babs Left, about his suspicions. Babs Right also airs her concerns: Sue-Ann had taken over the class and taught them how to make a nuclear fusion reactor. Babs Left had measured Sue-Ann and found her to be transcendentally dimensional. They decide to confront her mysterious great-grandpa in his junk pile…

When he found out much later, Numan described this new idea as, ‘Unforgivable tripe!’, then beat his fists against the studio wall until he drew blood. But there was no time to come up with anything better. The red light was on and filming had started…

Winston and ‘Bunny Boy’ had gone into hiding, leaving the show to be produced by the unknown fresh-faced, inexperienced, wet-behind-the-ears, Varsity Lamppost. She quickly dried the back of her ears and proved herself to be a billion times more competent than those two jokers. Despite being left with an opening episode written on 26 stitched-together fag packets, and eight further episodes set in the prehistoric era where the only word in the script was ‘grunt’, Varsity set to work.

She cast veteran screen idol, Billy Harnell as Doctor One, after her first choice, Dicky ‘Sir Pastry’ Lewes Misheard demanded that ‘Doctor’ should be “made out of pastry” (The BBC effects department vetoed this idea after an unsuccessful screen test: “Pastry got everywhere.”)

Harnell was keen to take on the role and perform in front of infants, having only played serial killers and bungling burglars up to this point. To soften his gruesome image, he insisted that his dialogue should include, “plenty of confusing nonsense and stupid-sounding errors” – these became known as ‘Billy fluffs’ or ‘Flufbills’.

The rest of the cast was made up of The Adventures of Sir Reginald Styles actor William Russell Enoch Russell (credited as Will E Russell), Jacqueline and Jilleline Hills (joint winners of Miss Cardigan 1958) as Babs Right and Babs Left, and Caro-Line Form as Sue-Ann. Form was 47 and had the tricky task of playing a 108-year-old pretending to be a 6-year-old acting like a teenager.

Performing in Dr WHO was a terrifying experience for these actors because, for the first five years, the show was recorded and broadcast live on stage in front of an unresponsive audience. And the very first episode proved to be a disaster.

Lamppost had appointed an untested, experimental new director, Warrick Hassan, who insisted that the sound of ‘banging doors’ featured loudly throughout the episode. Numan was enraged and ripped the curtain down at the end of the recording, taking to the stage to rant about the script, production, performances, and the state of his dressing room: “No bidet! You animals!”

He was furious that some of the dialogue had spoilt the mystery of the programme. At one point, Sue-Ann says, “We are aliens from the 49th century, part of a new science-fiction series that aims to bridge the gap on Saturday evenings between Grandstand and the pop music show Juke Box Jury. And also appeal to both audiences.”

With Numan sedated and incarcerated, Lamppost and Hussan set to work on a revised episode one. It started with a caption declaring: ‘PLEASE IGNORE LAST WEEK’S EPISODE’. This time, it was a success, with the audience cheering and applauding at the end. But little did they know that outside the studio, world events would scupper their second opening night…

While the episode was being broadcast, the President of the USA, John F Kenny was assassinated with a bullet. Whilst sad for America, it was a disaster for Dr WHO. With many viewers listening to the news instead of the BBC’s new science fiction series, the production team decided to remount the show the next week. It was another huge success, with many of the crowd calling for an encore: Harnell obliged by performing his ‘bungling burglar’ routine. But disaster struck again when, during the broadcast, the US President was shot for the second time in as many weeks. The production team reluctantly decided that, this time, they had to move on…

The remounted episode was followed by the ‘erotic caveman’ story, Tribe of Mummies, which proved to be a huge turn-off for viewers. The cast grunted their way in prehistoric times for the next eight weeks until Doctor hit the tribe leader on the head with a rock, and they made their escape, to the delight of both the Tar-Dis crew and the audience.

But it was the next story, The Deadly Planet AKA These Mutants AKA The Luxor Masters (the programme’s longest-ever episode title), that secured the show’s future. In desperation, Lamppost asked a failed comedian, Terrance National Express (TNE), to write the story. Strapped for cash, after being commissioned, TNE wrote seven scripts in the corridor outside Lampost’s office in about an hour, the last being just three words, “…and so on”. Then he stole the scriptwriting fee and flew away like a thief. Little did he know that he had accidentally written a masterstroke.

The Deadly Planet AKA These Mutants AKA The Luxor Masters pitted Doctor and his crew against a suitably deadly foe: Darleks. These robot creatures from the planet Scarred resembled upturned egg cups and spoke with an evil rasping cackle. While both infants and the fully-grown loved these fascist, murdering psychopaths, there was one man who took exasperated umbrage: the show’s own birth father, Syd Numan. He had been revived in order to attend the recording. But when Darleks appeared, he once again invaded the stage. In a fit of rage, Numan cried, “No BEMs! I said no BEMs,” before being dragged back into the wings by Jacqueline and Jilleline Hills.

The audience was shocked to witness this agonised outburst. Lamppost took to the stage and calmed the crowd, who assumed Numan had meant ‘No Black and Ethnic Minorities’. She explained that in Dr WHO’s DNA document, Numan had insisted the show should not include ‘Boggle Eyed Monstrosities’, and that’s what he thought the Darleks were. At that point, Numan freed himself from his shackles and burst back on stage.

The crowd started chanting: “We love Darleks, more psychopathic BEMs! More monstrous killers!” Numan was taken aback and his life-long, uncontrollable rage briefly subsided. He embraced Lamppost and declared, “I was so, so wrong! Bring on the BEMs!” In tears, he called the cast back to finish the episode.

This time, no president was assassinated and 53,508,513 viewers tuned in – the entire population of the UK, except for Dicky ‘Sir Pastry’ Lewes Misheard who couldn’t watch because he was still encased in pastry. Following this huge, runaway success, the BBC decided to destroy all copies of all the episodes forever.

That is the totally unbelievable story of the longest-running science fiction series in the world – as voted by you – which has now been on our screens for more than 47 years. The rest, as they say, is Dr WHO’s history, science and geometry…

* There is a clue to Doctor’s forgotten surname in the very first episode, The Unhappy Childhood: on the junk shop gates a sign declares: ‘I’m Foreman’.

A casual glance at a Doctor Who episode guide could suggest that Chris Boucher wrote just three stories for the Fourth Doctor in 1977. But simple facts like that won’t explain why – despite his limited contributions – Chris Boucher is held in such high regard by Doctor Who fans.

He never wrote a Dalek, Cyberman, or Master story, a regeneration or multi-Doctor adventure. His greatest legacy in series terms is the creation of the companion, Leela. Who, let’s not forget, had one of the hardest jobs to do: following on from the beloved Sarah Jane Smith.

What he did write were three cracking and very different adventures: The Face of Evil, a high-concept sci-fi fable about the consequences of past actions; The Robots of Death, a claustrophobic whodunnit in space with the creepiest droids ever released on screen; and Image of the Fendahl, a disturbing folk horror tale riffing on two Nigel Kneale classics, Quatermass and the Pit and The Stone Tape (while managing to be innovative and original in its own right). You can’t fault the sparkling scripts, ideas, and characterisations in any of these but Fendahl is rather let down by some badly realised monsters.

No slouch at the old script writing stakes himself, it was Robert Holmes who spotted Boucher’s potential, not only by asking him to quickly write a follow-up to The Face of Evil but also suggesting him as a script editor for the BBC’s new blockbuster adult sci-fi series, Blake’s 7.

It was that recommendation which possibly robbed Doctor Who of more scripts from Boucher. Not only did he polish Terry Nation’s drafts into riveting television in Blake’s 7‘s first series, he basically became the lead creative from series two onwards. This was a programme that consistently commanded a prime-time audience of nine million viewers. And a genre programme too, not a cop show or soap opera.

While he did his best to bring many of the other scripts to the same standard, there is always a particular quality, characterisation, and plot with a Boucher original Blake’s 7 adventure. And he was a master not only with the season finales (something Doctor Who didn’t do at the time, but would adopt later); he also gave lead characters their moments to shine, often playing them against type.

City at the Edge of the World gave cowardly Vila (Michael Keating) the opportunity to be a hero and get the girl. Cynical action hero and all-round know-it-all Avon (Paul Darrow) was seen to be vulnerable when double-crossed in Rumours of Death. The chief villain Travis (Brian Croucher) is depicted as a more sympathetic and complex character in Trial. Even the more idealistic hero Roj Blake (Gareth Thomas) is darker and less predictably ‘good’ in the series’ final episode, Blake. If you have a BritBox subscription and want a flavour of how brilliant Blake’s 7 can be, just pick a Boucher-penned episode and you won’t be disappointed.

Unfortunately, when Blake’s 7 ended and Boucher was freer to write for Doctor Who, it was after John-Nathan Turner had decided not to use scriptwriters who had written for the programme before he became producer. Which is a huge shame, as a Boucher script or two would have been very welcome to liven up the Fifth Doctor’s tenure.

I’ve seen it erroneously reported (even today) that Chris Boucher’s only original sci-fi series, Star Cops, was suggested as an alternative to Doctor Who. It clearly wasn’t. It’s a very adult series (in theme and approach) that was broadcast at 8.30 on Monday nights on BBC Two in 1987.

Star Cops isn’t widely known, and is seen as a bit of a disappointment in its ratings and because it only lasted one series. But, despite some odd casting choices, below-par production values, and a frankly terrible theme tune (I’ve got it on 12-inch vinyl), Boucher’s scripts and vision shine through. He also created a small personal computer called Box, which basically acts like a smart speaker three decades before they were invented. Clever chap.

But he didn’t entirely leave Doctor Who behind. The brilliantly-imagined civilisation depicted in Robots of Death spawned its own audio series, Kaldor City (2001-2012). He also returned to the sparkling pairing he created with the Fourth Doctor and Leela in a series of original novels for the BBC’s Past Doctor Adventures: Last Man Running, Corpse Marker, Psi-ence Fiction, and Match of the Day. Beyond Who, he made significant contributions to police and detective shows such as Shoestring, Juliet Bravo, Bergerac, and The Bill.

On a very sad note, this now means that no Doctor Who writers from the 1960s and 1970s now survive. But we still have Chris Boucher’s three outstanding (and perfectly formed) TV Doctor Who stories to treasure.

We’ll leave you with Boucher’s own words in this typically witty exchange from the Blake’s 7 episode, City at the Edge of the World:

Avon: Do you want me to threaten you?

Tarrant: Why not? I haven’t had a good laugh in ages.

Avon: Sensible. You could die laughing.

Our thoughts to Chris’ family and friends.

A new podcast series pits a Doctor Who fan against his partner, a reluctant Who viewer as they watch the revived series together, starting with Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper in Rose…

As we while away the TV Time Lord-free months before RTD2’s Fourteenth Doctor returns to our screens, many of us will be considering a mammoth rewatch in preparation. Now you can do it in the company of About Time: A Doctor Who Podcast.

For a long time, the founder of the Doctor Who Fan Orchestra, Stephen Alexander has been attempting to cajole his highly sceptical boyfriend, Ben, into watching Doctor Who. Stephen has been a fan since he watched 2005’s Rose aged 12 with his parents. Meanwhile, Ben (who’s the same age) has determinedly avoided the Time Lord’s exploits for 17 years and five, no six… seven? Maybe eight? Let’s just say a number of Doctors…

But this time, it was different, Ben agreed to view Who and for the pair to podcast the results. Launched on Doctor Who day (that’s 23rd November), the first full episode of About Time is a fascinating listen. The contrast between Stephen’s love for the RTD era and deep knowledge of the series and Ben’s almost total ignorance of Doctor Who (although very knowledgeable about plenty of other things) sets it apart from the many podcasts where Whovians out-fan each other in their critiques of the show.

It also sounds like a genuine conversation, rather than the usual over-excited hosts who think their every utterance is hilarious and unquestionable. But there are some genuinely funny moments that arise out of their conversation. Ben’s fresh perspective is invariably enlightening, while Stephen fills the gaps with his expert knowledge.

To find out their verdict on Rose, listen to episode one: The Blob Thing Down The Drain.

You can listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify and YouTube, and follow About Time on Instagram and Twitter

Among the political machinations over the last few weeks, which have played out like an unfolding, unbelievable, absurd, and terrifying political drama, The Power of the Doctor has been somewhat of a relief. It’s a fast-paced adventure story with a frankly bonkers plot, that somehow manages to be more satisfying than much of the Chris Chibnall/Jodie Whitaker era.

For all the call-backs to the last few years – Sacha Dhawan’s Master, the Lone Cyberman Ashad, Vinder from Flux, the Fugitive Doctor, and the ‘Time Lord’ Cybermen – there was a Trussian level of u-turns here. UNIT has returned to pretty much full funding after being clumsily written out in Resolution. The Daleks are back as an invasion force, despite the Dalek War Fleet being destroyed in the Flux event.

The Timeless Child story arc that cast a shadow over the Whittaker era is not even mentioned, let alone resolved. In fact, the inclusion of mostly classic-era Doctors at ‘The Edge’ seems to suggest they are still the Doctor’s main incarnations, not a myriad of Morbius Doctors, tortured children, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all. Of course, the ‘explanation’ is that the Doctor’s memory of pre-Hartnell incarnations is hidden. Then how come she can conjure up a convincing Fugitive Doctor hologram? (Whatever, Jo Martin is simply brilliant, if underused again.)

While Dan Lewis (John Bishop) exits in the most underwhelming companion farewell since Mel (more of her later) – why no walk into the sunset with Diane? – Yasmin (Mandip Gill) and the Doctor’s unrequited love is completely sidelined, despite it being such a signposted revelation at the end of Legend of the Sea Devils. If you missed that, then the end of The Power of the Doctor plays out like two good friends saying goodbye rather than two people who are in love with each other parting forever. And I don’t buy this ‘doing the next bit alone’ and Yaz passively nodding. If you love someone deeply, you wouldn’t abandon them to face death (basically) solo. For all of Yaz’s becoming independent and determined spirit in this episode and previous adventures, she once again becomes shrug-the-shoulder compliant in the end.

The Chibnall trick of setting a plot between multiple timelines, locations, and empty planets is in force but somehow manages to be relatively coherent. As is Chibnall’s introduction of a hugely powerful and mysterious thing (a Quoronx) that has never been mentioned before, but the Doctor knows all about and has to explain in a technobabbly speech, and that kind of works here too. That’s because the pace is frantic, much of the plot holes and fudges come and go when the next spectacle appears.

For long-term Doctor Who fans, the inclusion of ’80s companions Ace and Tegan is a thrill (particularly the glimpses of them interacting with versions of their Doctors). Also, the cameos of the First, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Doctors bring a sense of celebration to this BBC centenary special. (I imagine Colin Baker did it for the love of Who, rather than the corporation that treated him so badly in the 1980s.) Great to see glimpses of all of them, but any moments of McGann on-screen are precious. They seem to get David Bradley back for all occasions. We can only hope a full episode with McGann is part of the RTD2 plans.

The AA-like meeting at the end of the Doctor’s former companions is another cockle-warming toast to all of fandom. But for most viewers, it was a bunch of people in a room with no explanation as to who they were. Except, isn’t that Carmel – Bonnie Langford – from EastEnders? What’s she doing there? You just can’t conjure up nostalgia for something you have never experienced, unless you put time and effort into the story, like they did with Sarah Jane in School Reunion. And where was Polly (Anneke Wills)? And Martha? And Mickey– yes, probably best not to go there.

Despite this being Whittaker’s final regular appearance as the Doctor, she seemed a little sidelined in all the spectacle. The Master was given much better lines and profile, with the Thirteenth Doctor disappearing in the middle only to return in other forms (another repeated Chibnall trope). The sad fact is that this episode is likely to be boosted through iPlayer views, not with people wanting to see how Jodie exits but to cheer at David Tennant’s return. Jodie deserves more, frankly. But her Tigger-and-teatime turn as the Doctor never fully meshed into a convincing incarnation. Jodie is capable of so much more, but was given such a passive and (slightly) annoying persona that never transcended the too often sub-par material.

But, you know, despite all that, I rather enjoyed it. And so did my children (son aged 11 and daughter, seven). My son declared that it was a much better episode than he’d seen recently. My daughter, who had stopped watching all episodes and eras after the Flux (who can blame her?), declared that she enjoyed it and had, ‘missed Doctor Who.’ For all the fans who – whatever the BBC and production team deny – have fallen away over the last five years, I hope the teasing of Tennant brings them back. And the brilliance of Russell T Davies as showrunner and lead writer keeps them there.

Well, goodbye, Jodie. You did quite well, quite well (given the circumstances and material). But it’s reassuring to know that the future is in safe hands…

(And I don’t mean Rishi Sunak.)

It is with a real sense of sadness at the Doctor Who Companion that we learnt that the wonderful Bernard Cribbins has died, aged 93. To sum up his 80-year career – he left school at 13 to become an assistant stage manager and started acting – on stage, screen, radio and music in a few paragraphs would be an impossible task.

His talent spans some of the greatest British cultural achievements over the last century including voicing the Wombles (1973-75), a memorable guest starring role in Fawlty Towers (1975), a regular and prolific reader for the BBC series Jackanory, diverse movie roles in the Carry On series, Albert Perks in The Railway Children (1970), and barman Felix Forsythe in Alfred Hitchcock’s Frenzy (1972). In the 1960s, he also had a successful parallel singing career releasing novelty records including The Hole in the Ground and Right Said Fred.

Of course, he was also much loved in the Doctor Who world, first in the 1966 film Daleks’ Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. (1966), playing Tom Campbell. (I went to see the film just a few weeks ago at the cinema with my kids, and it still captivates the young imagination.) But just when that seemed a footnote in a long and successful career, he featured as a cameo as Wilfred Mott in the 2007 Doctor Who Christmas special, Voyage of the Damned, watched by more than 13 million viewers. Such was his impact in the small role, when a replacement was needed for the character of Geoff Noble after actor Howard Attfield sadly died, Bernard was welcomed back as Wilf, revealed to be Donna’s grandad, for much of Series 4 of the revived show.

It’s hard to describe the impact that Bernard had in that series, but with commanding performances by the leads – David Tennant and Catherine Tate – he managed to not only hold his own, but elevate the character to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them. So much so that when arguably the most popular Doctor of all time bowed out in two festive specials – The End of Time Parts One and Two – Wilf was chosen as the Tenth Doctor’s final companion. In fact, the Doctor chose Wilf’s life over his own. Quite a journey from a brief appearance manning a newspaper stand two years before.

What Bernard Cribbins brought to the role was humour, genuine pathos, determination, passion, and buckets of charisma. He lit up the screen in every scene he appeared and the Doctor Who universe, where Wilf is one of thousands of characters, is truly enhanced by his presence. Defying the absurd notion that young actors should be companions, Wilf was taken to the hearts of millions of people young and old in his late 70s and 80s.

His character became so dear that I even wrote a short story featuring him in the DWC’s 2021 Annual, which you can still download for free now.

And, whisper it, we may not have seen the last of Wilfred ‘Wilf’ Mott…

For me, I have a special memory of the great man. On Sunday 12 May 1996, I took my mother to our local arts centre, the Riverhouse Barn in Walton-on-Thames to see An Evening with Bernard Cribbins. He was a patron of the Riverhouse at the time, living nearby. I am not sure quite what I was expecting. But Bernard in his gentle and friendly way took us on a tour of his incredible career to that point, a mixture of jokes, tall tales, and anecdotes. It culminated in performances of his aforementioned greatest hits and questions from the audience. Sadly, I was too timid to ask about his ’60s encounter with the Daleks, but it was a delight just to be there in the room with a legend.

He made a return appearance at the Riverhouse, 22 years later. Sadly, I couldn’t make it. But my friend and fellow Doctor Who fan – and founder of the Doctor Who Fan Orchestra – the very talented Stephen Alexander was. And he was given the chance to perform with Mr Cribbins…

‘When I watched Bernard Cribbins bring to life one of my favourite Doctor Who characters, I never dreamed that I’d get to meet him, let alone work with him one day. But in 2018, I got an email from the Riverhouse Barn Arts Centre, where Bernard was set to do another of his popular appearances.

‘They wanted to know if I would be willing to accompany him on the piano while he sang one or more of his famous songs. Of course, I leapt at the chance. There was initially talk of doing Hole in the Ground and Right Said Fred – so I practised both – but I was then told that Bernard had decided he did not want to sing the latter, as the timing of the song was, “a bit too complicated for [his] old brain now”.

‘So Hole in the Ground it was. I turned up early to have a rehearsal with Bernard before the show, and honestly, he was everything I had expected and more. The twinkle in his eye as he asked if the ‘nubile ladies’ he had requested were going to be there.

‘Getting to perform with Bernard and support this entertainment legend was wonderful and surreal, but the highlight for me was sitting in the green room with him and his wife, listening to his many tales and his irreverent wit, which never seemed to switch off. 

‘Though Bernard had said he would not sing Right Said Fred, the producer did ask me privately if I would play a little bit of it as exit music for Bernard at the end of the show. This I did, but Bernard, thinking I was spontaneously playing it for him to sing to, shot me a look of amused annoyance, sang it pretty much perfectly (ably supported by the audience), and then promptly whacked me with his papers as he left the stage. 

‘He brought joy to generations and will be fondly remembered to say the least.’

Bernard Joseph Cribbins OBE (29th December 1928 – 27th July 2022), we salute you.

Depending on your religious and cultural persuasion, Easter Sunday is either about the resurrection of something that’s believed to be dead forever, or the overindulgence of Easter eggs. Sadly, Legend of the Sea Devils falls squarely in the latter. Sad, because I genuinely felt excited after seeing the preview and trailer, and hoped that Doctor Who had fully come back to life…

As a Doctor Who fan writing for a Doctor Who fansite (albeit the very best one there is), I fall squarely in the category of ‘being excited about the return of the Sea Devils’ – something I previously experienced back in 1984 with Warriors of the Deep. And we all know how that turned out. History has been kinder to that much-maligned adventure. But the ‘Sea Devils’ still come out of the story with little glory. So it’s really the spirit of the 1972’s The Sea Devils that I was hoping would be recaptured in the latest Doctor Who special. But for most of the viewing population, the ‘Sea Devil’s’ appearance at the end of Eve of the Daleks probably enlisted very little excitement. It possibly prompted a few to seek out online what all the fuss was about, only to discover they are turtle-faced rubbery monsters of 50-years vintage. Is that it?

Much attention to detail and respect for their history is evident in the updated design of the ‘Sea Devils’. Deliberately a practical effect not CGI (but subtly enhanced by computer trickery), the race – I’m deliberately choosing not to call them creatures or monsters – are faithful (possibly to a fault) to their first appearance. At least to look at. There is little of the moral question possessed by them and their reptile cousins the ‘Silurians’, that was core to their creator, Malcolm Hulke’s conception. The question being, whether they are, in fact, the rightful owners of planet Earth. And if humans won’t give the planet back over to their rule, how should we go about sharing it with them?

The Doctor’s main aim in 1970’s The Silurians, The Sea Devils, and 2010’s The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood (written by Chris Chibnall, and one of his better efforts) was to negotiate peace between the humans and the earth’s former dominant species, if at all possible. In Legend… reference to this key aspect of the race’s backstory is given scant attention:

Yaz: So you know them, these Sea Devils?

Doctor: Crossed paths once or twice.

Yaz: Where do they come from?

Doctor: Slight wrinkle there. Earth. They were here before humans. They regard Earth as their own planet.

Yaz: That’s not good.

Firstly, the Doctor seems happy to keep referring to them by an insulting, derogatory term for a ‘noble ancient’ race, and secondly, there is no suggestion in this exchange that their claim to the planet is in any way legitimate or worth considering. Something that the Time Lord has asserted during every previous televised encounter with them. The Doctor even regards one of the race, Madame Vastra, as a good friend and ally. Here it’s just an inconvenient ‘slight wrinkle’, not a history-shattering revelation about the Earth’s past. Yaz, who often acts as the Thirteenth Doctor’s better moral compass, merely dismisses it as a bit of an annoyance.

With only 40-minutes of (a lot of mangled) plot to deal with the ‘Sea Devil’ threat (the final five minutes are given over to relationship business with the TARDIS crew), there is no space in this adventure for nuance about the morality of who has the greater claim to the earth. Instead, the ‘Sea Devils’ are treated as rather generic evil monsters who may just as well have crash-landed from a different planet.

What sets the earth reptiles and their aquatic cousins apart from your typical alien threats to the planet is the uniqueness of their origin story. So, if this is completely sidelined, what is the point of bringing them back? They certainly don’t have the mass cultural appeal to draw in a massive audience, as the feeble 2.2 million overnight figures testify. I know that the audience will grow with people who recorded or will stream on iPlayer, but for it to shift into anywhere near a respectable audience, it needs word-of-mouth enthusiasm from those who have seen it relayed to those that haven’t. From the unappreciative reviews and disparaging comments I’ve seen online, I really can’t see that happening.

So, back to the point. They could easily have been a Sontaran naval fleet, an undersea-stranded Zygon crew, or a new threat altogether. But alongside the backstory, what made the ‘Sea Devils’ creepy in the first place was also ignored. They were kept in the shadows, a threat from the deep, not a bunch of sword-wielding warriors in full view from the outset. The rest of the ‘Sea Devils’ are simply sword-fodder, with no individuality or personality in evidence, just an unquestioning devotion to their deranged leader. Who gets more sympathy in the script when killed than the half-a-dozen that Dan despatches with an unbelievable single sabre swipe. Followed by a lame quip about his mum.

All of these things would be easier to overlook if the story were intended to be an all-action romp. But the final five minutes try to present the episode as a character-driven drama about real people experiencing real emotions. Earlier in the episode, Dan lamely says, “Listen… I’m sorry about your dad”, to Ying Ki, whose father was brutally killed and his body left disfigured only a short time before. The tone of Dan throughout highlights the discrepancy in the emotional journey of the TARDIS crew. He poignantly phones his could-be girlfriend Diane, not to seek support after witnessing so much death and destruction – even perpetrating much himself – but because he’s “been having all these mad adventures” but has no one to regale them to. So, it’s not like he wants to come home and settle down. Sorry, Di. Maybe you were right to unexpectedly end it with Dan after the Flux.

So we come to that whole “Thasmin” thing. I am not opposed to the Doctor having romantic (or other) feelings towards the companions, vice versa or sharing mutual attraction. It just never seems convincing in this instance. For the first two series, I thought that Yaz was just along for the ride. The attraction appears to have all been cooked up in the minds of a few fans out of scant evidence, who wanted it confirmed in the programme.

Rose was always portrayed as being a little bit too fond of the Tenth Doctor, to his mutual consent. Martha’s unrequited crush on him was trumpeted loudly and Amy clearly wanted to get into Eleven’s breeches. I just don’t quite get it with Yaz and Thirteen. Even here, Mandip Gill is forced to do more through looks and expressions than is ever delivered in the script. Why doesn’t a frustrated Yaz rage a little at the Doctor for such a pathetic response? Take this exchange:

Doctor: Yaz… I can’t fix myself… to anything… anywhere… or anyone. I’ve never been able to. That’s what my life is.

Yaz: Yeah, of course.

Have the writers never been in love? If so, do they really think Yaz’s response would be, “Yeah, of course” after the Doctor basically gave her the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse? While still teasing Yaz with the cruel hope that she does have the same feelings in return. The Doctor says she just doesn’t want to act on them.

Are we expected to believe that Yaz is so passive that she wouldn’t call the Doctor out for such a badly-expressed reason? Oh, the actual reason is sound. A near-immortal who changes their whole appearance and personality regularly, who has command of a time-space machine, whose chosen life is one of constant danger, showing no desire to settle down, having a relationship with a one-short-lifetime fragile human who will age before their eyes while they remain the same. Or turn into someone else. That’s understandable. But Yaz doesn’t seem to know about the Doctor’s massively extended lifetime, her many incarnations, and gender-switching. Without that information, wouldn’t Yaz put up a bit more of a fight? Even with it…

Of course, there is much more to say about this Easter special, its characters, performances, direction, and realisation. Superficially, apart from some obvious green-screen CGI, the Covid-conditions restricting the cast, and overseas location filming, it was entertaining enough. If it was a mid-season adventure story with another one following next week, it would be perfectly respectable, if a little underwhelming. But it’s supposed to be a blockbuster for the Easter holidays, leading up to the Thirteenth Doctor’s final adventure: a last hurrah before she hurrahs her last. Shame it wasn’t.

It’s telling that the most thrilling moments happened in the preview at the end. The glimpses of the latest Master, lone Cyberman, and other returnees from the Thirteen’s era. Plus Tegan and Ace. Yes, that probably means something to you. But the general viewing public? Do they know, or more importantly, care? Sarah Jane Smith was brought back from the classic series in School Reunion, an episode that didn’t simply feed on nostalgia; it introduced the character to a whole new generation, who embraced her. There was a real point to her return, to show Rose what happens when the adventures end, and it forced the Tenth Doctor to face up to his past and the people he leaves behind.

With so much to conclude, so many returning elements, what hope do Tegan and Ace have in the centenary special? Will their characters be more than unconvincing cameos? In Tegan’s final scene in Resurrection of the Daleks, she states this as her reason for leaving the Doctor: “A lot of good people have died today. I think I’m sick of it… It’s just that I don’t think I can go on.” In the centenary trailer, we see her wielding a huge weapon, shooting at some kind of being or beings, presumably. I dearly hope that Chibnall hasn’t turned her and Ace into soldiers.

I remember as a child being excited by more and more Easter eggs. But feeling sick when gorging on too much, and finding it unsatisfying. My mother would tell me not to eat too many and spoil my dinner. We don’t need a diet of treats and sweets (cameos and fan-pleasing relationships); we need substance, flavour, and nourishment. A well-prepared meal. Chibnall, you’ve got one last chance…

Before everything available was released on home media, there was a lot of received wisdom and urban myths about Doctor Who. The Troughton era was perceived as a golden age (in comparison to the clunky Hartnell days) but all the best stories were in Season 5. And – worse than that – the very best ones had been junked.

All that was left were the dregs of the Kroton-end of Season 6, not the classic monster era with lumbering Yetis, creepy Cybermen, and icky seaweed. The War Games was renowned to be a drawn-out desperate attempt to fill a 10-episode void. The final episode reveal of the Time Lords was barely worth the drudge of the previous nine. Worst of all. No monsters. Yes, none.

For me, all this nonsense was blown away on Thursday 1st February 1990 (I was age 16). Back home from school via WHSmith to pick up the clunky double VHS (two tapes in two cases sellotaped together), I inserted the cassette and started to watch… Just over two hours later, my brother and I (a Troughton fan) had devoured the first five episodes. By then, my Dad was home and wanted to watch the news, then the Commonweath Games highlights.

We were incensed. We’d just seen Jamie shot by security guards. How was he going to survive? I mean, we knew he would but it was gripping stuff. The best we could hope was that my Dad would go to bed early and we could watch the rest that night. But he always stayed up until Question Time finished at 11pm. And we had school the next day.

So, we polished the remaining episodes off on Friday. A trip of a lifetime: all the way to the Time Lord’s home planet, then sentenced to be exiled back to earth. The trial only took a few minutes (stitch that, Doctor Six). As Doctor Who epic stories go, it’s far more cohesive, consistent, and thrill-a-minute than The Trial of a Time Lord or Flux. Or the proto-epics like the Key to Time season, Black Guardian trilogy, or Frontier in Space/Planet of the Daleks. (It’s hard to compare to The Daleks’ Master Plan because so much of that is missing.)

It proves there is nothing wrong with being long; you just have to do it right. And The War Games keeps up the momentum with brilliant reveals such as when Smythe pulls back the portrait door to show this isn’t just a trip to earth’s history, when soldiers from other times appear, when the TARDIS crew cross over to a different war zone, when the War Chief is revealed to be one of the Doctor’s own race… It all culminates in the epic reveal (after six mysterious years) of the Doctor’s own home planet.

The cliffhangers are excellent, from the first episode with the Doctor seemingly shot by firing squad, through the Roman chariot charging on our heroes, a brainwashed Carstairs about to shoot Zoe, the TARDIS crew soon to be crushed inside the SIDRAT capsule… They keep up the momentum like those Flash Gordon chapter movies from the ’40s and ’50s.

And the characters from the squabbling War Chief and Security Chief, to the epic cast of soldiers on both sides are all well drawn out and watchable. Particularly the delightful pairing of Leitenant Carstairs and Lady Jennifer, who hark back to Ian and Barbara: they are best companions we never had (or didn’t have for long enough).

Necessity, graft, and inspiration drew out from two of Doctor Who’s finest writers, Terrance Dicks and Malcolm Hulke, arguably the best end-of-Doctor story there ever was.

And it’s not just a romp. The title’s a giveaway. It’s about evil men causing death and destruction. About brainwashed soldiers fighting for a cause they don’t fully understand. And about heroic resistance fighters risking their lives to reveal the truth, while striving for justice and freedom. It’s about as inspiring a story as we could hope for right now.