📝3/10

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"Galaxy Snore: A Lesson in Style Over Substance"

Galaxy Four is a peculiar entry in Classic Doctor Who. On paper, it’s an ambitious, socially conscious tale with a moral message akin to Star Trek. In practice, it’s a slow and disjointed serial hampered by its missing status and underwhelming execution. With barely any visuals left—save for a few fragments and Part 3 discovered a decade ago—the Loose Cannon reconstruction offers a glimpse of what could have been, but the story remains frustratingly incomplete and difficult to assess.

A Moral Tale Lost in Repetition

At its heart, Galaxy Four presents a classic "don’t judge a book by its cover" lesson, flipping expectations with a beautiful-but-evil alien race (the Drahvins) and an ugly-but-benevolent one (the Rills). While this moral message likely resonated with 1960s audiences, its delivery feels clunky and heavy-handed. Without a strong plot to weave the theme naturally into the narrative, the story becomes an exercise in walking back and forth between two sets with little progression.

Sound and Fury, Signifying Nothing

The action-packed opening is undermined by chaotic sound design and poor audio quality, making it difficult to follow the story's initial developments. This sets the tone for a serial that is both noisy and hollow. The Chumblies, an obvious attempt at creating a new Dalek-like sensation, are little more than beeping, bumbling robots with no real purpose, and their incessant sound effects quickly become grating.

Predictable Twists and Wasted Potential

The twist in Part 3—that the Drahvins are the villains and the Rills are the true heroes—is telegraphed from the start. Maaga, played by Stephanie Bidmead, is cold, calculating, and treacherous from her first scene, leaving no room for doubt about her character. Bidmead’s fourth-wall-breaking moments add a sinister edge, but even her performance can’t elevate the one-dimensional writing.

The Drahvins’ concept as a race of female warriors using men as disposable tools is forward-thinking, especially for the era, but the story does little to explore this angle. They spend most of their time stuck in their spaceship, undermining any potential as formidable antagonists. Similarly, the Rills, seen in their full glory in the surviving material, come across as lumbering and unconvincing, a victim of limited production resources.

Hartnell and the TARDIS Team

William Hartnell shoulders much of the action here, sprinting around the sets to save the day as the planet edges toward destruction. While his performance remains commendable, the grim tone and bleak stakes make this an unusually heavy outing for the First Doctor.

Steven, unfortunately, suffers the most. Stuck with dialogue clearly intended for Barbara (as the script was written before her departure), he feels out of character and stripped of the charm and energy seen in The Time Meddler. Vicki fares better but struggles to shine amidst the underwhelming narrative.

A Chore to Watch (or Listen To)

With Galaxy Four’s heavy reliance on visual storytelling, its missing status makes it particularly difficult to follow. The sparse reconstructions, limited surviving material, and unrelenting sound design make for a tedious viewing experience. Even with written synopses to guide the way, the narrative lacks tension or momentum, making it one of the least engaging stories of the Hartnell era.

While its socially conscious themes and predominantly female guest cast are noteworthy, Galaxy Four fails to deliver an engaging or cohesive narrative. Its repetitive structure, forgettable production design, and clumsy execution make it a missed opportunity. In the pantheon of missing episodes, it’s a story more notable for its concept than its realization.

In the end, Galaxy Four may have aimed for the stars, but it lands with a resounding thud.