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“THE LEISURE HIVE – A LACKLUSTRE START TO A NEW ERA”

Season 18 marked a dramatic shift for Doctor Who, ushering in the 1980s with a striking new aesthetic and a harder sci-fi focus. With John Nathan-Turner taking over as producer, the show received a fresh theme tune (Peter Howell’s lovely electronic rendition), a sleek neon title sequence, and a more serious tone to contrast the whimsical nature of the Graham Williams era. Tom Baker’s Doctor was also given a revamp, donning a sombre burgundy coat and the now-iconic question mark motif that would persist into his successor’s wardrobe. Lalla Ward remained as Romana, alongside John Leeson as K9, while the season introduced new companion Adric in Full Circle.

A BOLD NEW DIRECTION FOR DOCTOR WHO

The season opener, The Leisure Hive, written by David Fisher, was his fourth and final contribution to the show. It leans more towards the sci-fi-heavy The Creature from the Pit rather than his gothic horror-inspired The Stones of Blood. The story begins with one of the strangest pre-credit sequences in Doctor Who history—K9 foolishly rolling into the sea and short-circuiting (a clear move by JNT to phase out the tin dog), Romana’s dramatic scream, and the Doctor lazing on a Brighton beach in that awful new outfit of his.

TOO MUCH TECHNOBABBLE, TOO LITTLE ENGAGEMENT

The story shifts to Argolis, a leisure planet designed as a holiday retreat, where the Doctor and Romana encounter the feared Foamasi species and an advanced rejuvenation technology known as the Leisure Hive. The narrative leans heavily into hard sci-fi, filled with dense technobabble and world-building. While the ideas themselves are compelling, they fail to translate into an engaging or dynamic story.

The first episode barely features the TARDIS crew, instead focusing on the Argolians and their technological advancements, making for a sluggish start. While believable sci-fi concepts are always welcome, a Doctor Who opener needs to hook its audience immediately—this one simply does not.

Part 2 doubles down on the excessive exposition, delving into regeneration technology and tachyon particles, all without establishing a clear threat. As a result, the supposed moments of tension feel oddly lifeless and fail to generate suspense.

FOAMASI, CLIFFHANGERS, AND MISSED OPPORTUNITIES

One of the story’s strongest elements is the gradual reveal of the Foamasi. Glimpses of their shadows and hands throughout Part 1 create intrigue, though it’s disappointing that they vanish for much of the middle episodes, only to be fully unveiled at the end of Part 3. Their cricket-like green design isn’t the most convincing, but conceptually, they work well.

The cliffhangers vary in effectiveness. The Part 1 cliffhanger, in which the Doctor is comically torn apart, falls flat—it’s more absurd than suspenseful. In contrast, the Part 2 twist, revealing an aged and withered Doctor, is genuinely unsettling. Part 3 sticks to the classic “monster attack” formula, which, while predictable, still lands effectively.

THEATRICAL ANTICS AND A LACKLUSTRE CAST

Part 4 suddenly shifts gears into full-blown melodrama, with Pangol delivering an over-the-top performance reminiscent of Graham Crowden in The Horns of Nimon. His grandstanding and the bizarre duplication sequence, in which he attempts to create an army of clones, feel wildly out of sync with the rest of the story. It’s as if Fisher decided to go for an epic finale, but the production struggled to match his ambition.

Tom Baker and Lalla Ward seem drained of their usual spark. Baker, in particular, appears weary—perhaps a reflection of his real-life growing disillusionment with the role, compounded by illness during filming. Ward remains a strong and independent Romana, but both leads feel underutilised, largely standing around while other characters drive the plot.

The supporting cast is hit-and-miss. Adrienne Corri (Mena), David Haig (Pangol), and John Collin (Brock) give solid performances, but the characters themselves are not especially engaging. The absence of a clear villain for much of the story further dilutes any real sense of urgency or stakes.

VISUALS, EFFECTS, AND MUSIC – A MIXED BAG

On a design level, The Leisure Hive has its moments. The Argolians’ makeup is simple yet effective, making them look convincingly alien. The sets, all sleek white surfaces and futuristic architecture, seem inspired by the Star Wars aesthetic. However, the model work and CSO effects are inconsistent, with some shots appearing particularly unpolished.

One highlight is the excellent ageing makeup on Baker in Part 3, which adds to the story’s eerie atmosphere. The Foamasi attack sequence in Part 4 is strangely edited—both disjointed and oddly compelling in its execution.

John Nathan-Turner also made the bold decision to overhaul the show’s incidental music, ending the long-running association with composer Dudley Simpson. Instead, the BBC Radiophonic Workshop provides a fully synthesised score. The result is a distinctly 1980s sound—otherworldly, ethereal, and fitting for the era, even if it feels somewhat intrusive at times.

VERDICT: A SLOW AND UNEVEN START TO A NEW ERA

The Leisure Hive is a fascinating case of style over substance. While it successfully redefines Doctor Who’s aesthetic for the 1980s, it fails to engage on a storytelling level. The excessive technobabble, sluggish pacing, and underwhelming performances make it a disappointing season opener. There are flashes of brilliance—particularly in the design work and certain eerie moments—but overall, it’s a lacklustre start to the John Nathan-Turner era.

📝47/100