The DVD of The Keys of Marinus contains a PDF file of the cigarette sweet cards released in the 60s detailing “Dr Who” and his exciting adventures with the Voord and Daleks. If you thought the Dalek comic strips from TV Comic were strange, you haven’t seen anything till you’ve read these. The story opens with “Dr Who” discovering that the Voord and Daleks are working together to invade Earth. In the course of the story, the Daleks betray the Voord who are all destroyed with the exception of their leader. This lone Voord teams up with “Dr Who” and helps destroy the Daleks by feeding them a poisonous fungus from the jungles of South America. He dies whilst doing this and then “Dr Who” finds himself accompanying a lone Dalek back to Skaro. On the planet, he helps the Daleks to destroy a huge machine which has gone out of control and threatens to destroy Skaro and possibly Earth. The Golden Emperor throws a banquet in “Dr Who’s” honour and they raise a glass to their success.

I’m not lying!

Everything about this story is wrong, from the benevolent, and practically helpless, presentation of both Voord and Daleks, to the bizarre costume change “Dr Who” has halfway through the story (he’s all spacey-like until he meets with the Earth council when he is suddenly in Edwardian style clothes). There are weird references to both the TV Comic strip (the Golden Emperor) and the Dalek Book (actually referenced in the text). There is a whole section where the Daleks are going to increase their brain power with a fungus from the South American jungle but are tricked by the Voord leader into absorbing the juices from a deadly fungus instead. Card after card depicts Voord, Dalek and Earth ships exploding whilst “Dr Who” watches from the sidelines. And throughout the story, the main character is referred to as “Dr Who”, complete with inverted commas.

Oddly, the characterisation of the Daleks does match with that presented in the TV Comic strips. The Daleks are, frankly, useless and suffering as a result of their own ill—though actions. They have created a machine which has killed the scientists who created it and now no one knows how to turn it off! Their sense of wonder is referenced when “Dr Who” saves them and they clearly have the facility to throw a lavish banquet for their saviour.

The same cannot be said for the characterisation of the Doctor or the Voord. The Voord are simply men in rubber suits with no motivation and no real characters (they are all but wiped out a quarter of the way through the story anyway).

The Doctor, or rather “Dr Who” is apparently an Earthman. He is obviously known to the Daleks, the Voord and Earth alike and clearly respected by all three (although he does smuggle a lone Dalek away from Earth to take it back to Skaro). It is his earthly heritage which allows him to shut down the maniacal machine as its death rays are only effective against Daleks (which seems an odd facility for Daleks to build into their own weapons systems! Maybe this was a result of Zeg’s attempt to take control of the Dalek command in Duel of the Daleks).

These glimpses into how Doctor Who as a series was viewed in the sixties are always fascinating and I look forward to finding out more about the Daleks’ attempts to conquer Earth when I return to the Dalek comic strips in a few centuries time…

The Darkness of Glass, by Justin Richards, involves the Doctor and Leela in the company of some magic lantern afficionadoes on an isolated island. The windows of the house hold a terrible secret – a shadow demon trapped for a century that is about to be released.

The 4th Doctor audios tend to be short and sweet. For whatever reason, Big Finish decided to structure these all as 2 part adventures (with a few being 4 part but spread over a couple of CD releases). As a result, they can sometimes seem a little rushed and inconsequential. There are a few standouts such as The Wrath of the Iceni, but The Darkness of Glass is not one of those. It is a very traditional, ‘gothic’, spooky runaround that seems over before its even begun.

The parallels with Horror of Fang Rock are immediately apparent (and even ‘lamp-shaded’ in the script). A group of well-to-do Edwardians stuck on an isolated island being attacked by an entity which is eventually defeated through the use of light. There’s even an hysterical woman for Leela to despair at. Unfortunately, this works against the story in that it all feels way too familiar (particularly as it isn’t that long since I actually watched Horror of Fang Rock). Coupled with this problem, is the main conceit of the story – magic lanterns. These were, as is acknowledged in both script and in the interview extras, a fad of Victorian times. Therefore, not only do we have a story too reminiscent of Horror of Fang Rock, it doesn’t capitalise on its period setting by pulling it back into the Victorian era. In a way, it seems pointless to specifically set the story in 1907 if the story is going to firmly root itself in the previous century.

The cast perform the story well, however, and of particularly note is Sinead Keenan as Mary Summersby who becomes a temporary companion to the Doctor whilst Leela is off doing fighty things. The male members of the cast suffer from all sounding a bit too similar and I must admit to being a bit lost as to who was who and what their relationships were. This was also partly due to the hectic pace of the first episode which introduced all these characters in quick succession with little time for the listener to absorb who was who properly. The script is, though, littered with some good gags (there’s a great one about a lawyer) and nice character moments. Leela, in particular, is written well with plenty for Louise Jameson to do.

Justin Richards, as those of you who have followed by book thread will know, is not an author I have a particular fondness for. I find his novels to be unabsorbing. The interview extras draw attention to the fact that Justin Richards ‘can write a story’. I felt this was a way of saying his stories are fairly traditional which, on the face of it is not necessarily a bad thing. Traditional, in Doctor Who terms, can be a lot of fun. After all, the ‘traditional’ stories are what make up the fabric of the show. We don’t want or need every story to be a Heaven Sent or a Doctor Who and the Pirates or a Scherzo or a Campaign. But Richards’ writing, I feel, often leans too far the wrong way, giving stories which are, for want of a better word, dull.

The Darkness of Glass isn’t dull and it is certainly one of Richards’ better attempts but I think the script has been lifted by good performances, good direction and some effective, atmospheric sound design. Were this a novel or short story, I don’t think it would be anywhere near as engaging or memorable.

That said, I don’t feel the story fully capitalises on the magic lantern element. In a way, it’s just glass and mirrors which are the means to an end in this story with the magic lantern element merely being window dressing. That’s a shame as it’s a concept which could have been used more imaginatively. However, it is also a very visual thing which means that, on audio, it doesn’t quite work. I remember as a child seeing a magic lantern show at some museum or other and it was fascinating. It’s a pity this can’t really be replicated on audio.

Historically, the story limits itself to a bit of explanation of magic lanternism but is more concerned with a gothic, spooky atmosphere more rooted, as I’ve said, in the Victorian era than in the turn of the century.

If you want something traditional and atmospheric, you can’t go too wrong with this story but it’s not the best example of the 4th Doctor and Leela on audio that I’ve heard so far.

On the one hand it really is the oddest choice to start a new range of audios with. It’s camp, silly, packed with over-the-top performances and does rely on people being familiar with who Bernice is a bit too much.

On the other hand, it is actually a good example of what Benny does best - solving a mystery with the clues in front of her. The story actually develops at a really good pace (I do love that the cover boasts about the story being nearly two hours long) and it reveals it hand carefully and with Bernice working it out whilst having a fun time in the crazy world.

I know the panto stuff probably irritates some people but I’ve adored panto since I was a kid and I love the way it is woven into the story alongside general fairy tale tropes (another love of mine). It’s clever how the story shifts from one set of tropes to another and plays with the tropes a bit and the reveal that it’s all because of a dissertation on panto uploaded to a ship’s computer marries the weird reality and the ‘normal’ world of Bernice in a satisfactory way.

The over the top characters are huge fun and I adore Mark Gatiss channelling Kenneth Williams as the Vizier. Nick Briggs’ Julian Clary-esque fairy godfather is fun too. He also gives good Prince Charming and the rest of the cast are fun as various dwarves and dames.

Top of the list though are Lisa Bowerman and Nicholas Courtney as Benny and Wolsey. Nicholas Courtney is sublime as Wolsey, especially when he starts to have an existential crisis about not really being a talking pussy. He has a great line in dick jokes too.

But I think we undersell how brilliant Lisa Bowerman is in her first outing as Benny. She absolutely hits the ground running and owns the part. It really is no surprise that this series continues with Bowerman at the head of the ship. She is instantly likeable and pins Benny’s character immediately. She starts as she means to go on and I’m not sure she’s ever given a bad performance as Benny.

The Grel are a great creation too - all the ‘bad fact/report/query’ stuff is fun and I like the fact the script doesn’t try to force them into fairy tale roles but keeps them as outsiders like Bernice, but enlisting the help of villains to try to achieve their ends.

I think this is probably one of those stories you either love or hate and, you know what, I love it. 4/5

The Hounds of Artemis is another in the list of ‘archaeological’ Doctor Who stories which build on the legacy of the archetypal original, Pyramids of Mars. Pyramids, of course, riffed on the ‘imprisoned evil’ trope from various horror movies and this continues in this story, following in the footsteps of Pyramids, Forty Five’s Fallen Gods and River Song’s The Boundless Sea. (To make the links all the more explicit, at one point, the Doctor even claims to be from the Scarman Institue).

For this story, we’re in Eastern Turkey and our intrepid group of archaeologists are trying to unearth the Temple of Artemis, a Greek goddess.

In a wonderfully Moffatian twist, the pre-titles sequence sees the temple breached by the archaeological team only for the Doctor and Amy to stroll out from inside. The team is small yet typical for these sort of stories – the young, idealistic academic leader, the older, more pompous financier and the European additions, in this case the German Miss Van-der Cass.

Soon, the temple is discovered and the Doctor, Amy and their new acquaintances are confronted by dog/human hybrids and a towering, golden statue of the goddess, Artemis.

There’s not a lot in this that’s new or original and it hits all the expected beats of this type of story. However, there are some interesting, if not entirely successful, stylistic choices in its telling and a few scenes that stick in the mind after listening to it.

The choice of how to tell the story fits the story although I’m not sure the conceit holds up or works all the way through. The story is told from the point of view of the granddaughter of Stapleton, the archaeologist heading up the expedition. She is reading from documents written about the expedition including, mainly, records written down by the Doctor and a diary written by Amy.

Voicing the granddaughter is Clare Corbett – she has recorded a number of Doctor Who audiobooks as well as being involved in a few Big Finish productions. Apparently this release was supposed to feature Karen Gillan but this never happened (possibly partly because its release was delayed on more than one occasion). Consequently, Corbett also voices Amy and, to her credit, does a pretty good job at it. She also does a great voice for Van-der Cass.

But, reading the Doctor’s contributions we actually have Matt Smith. It’s always a treat when the original Doctor actors are involved with these as no one else can really, properly, recreate their performance and whilst we might have the likes of Frazer Hines, Tim Treloar and even Jon Culshaw, nothing beats the real thing (particularly for me, as Matt Smith has more or less inched his way into being my favourite Doctor – he’s certainly my favourite of the modern era). In fact, the contrast of other actors performing the Doctor is thrown into stark contrast in this release because Corbett also performs some of the Doctor’s lines and, although she has a good stab at it, it’s simply not the same. There’s a vibrancy to Smith’s reading that doesn’t transfer to Corbett’s reading – when she’s being the Doctor, that is, because her Amy is, as I say, pretty good.

Unfortunately, the conceit of Amy’s diary being the main source of information about the adventure doesn't quite work. There is actually a point in the story where we’re supposed to believe Amy chooses to write in her diary whilst being chased by the eponymous hounds. An attempt is made to suggest she is under the influence of psychic powers but it doesn’t really work and really pulled me out of the story as it got more and more ridiculous as to when we were supposed to believe Amy was writing her diary.

Using a diary as a form of narration requires a certain suspension of belief normally anyway, recording people’s dialogue verbatim as direct speech is not really how diaries are written with reported speech being far more likely, but we tend to allow this for the sake of the story. The ‘writing while in mortal peril’ pushes it too far.
I also got confused as to where the Doctor’s accounts of events were coming from. There is a mention of scribblings on a bit of paper but after that there is immense detail on the Doctor’s part and I’m not sure where Stapleton’s granddaughter is supposed to be getting this information.

Once the temple is breached the story takes a few unexpected turns. There is a vivid image of a banquet table with a sumptuous feast. A huge golden statue of Artemis stands at one end and, in a manner similar to the Weeping Angels, it is seen to move and yet not seen to move as events progress.

The feast is partaken of by Lord Woolcroft (the expedition’s financier) and Miss Van-der Cass and then the story gives us the horrific reveal that, in the style of The Keys of Marinus, the feast is an illusion and they have actually been eating human remains. It becomes even more terrible when, by eating this, the two of them begin to turn into hounds. This leads to some tragic scenes where the Doctor vainly appeals to the humans they once were only to realise there is no way of saving them. The climax brings in the local ‘wise woman’ which leads to a slightly deux ex machina ending but overall it works.

Historically, the archaeological dig and the archetypal characters are about as far as it goes although, at the end of the story, the Doctor gives Stapleton a clue to another, more authentic, Temple of Artemis ready to be discovered in another part of Turkey. Although Stapleton is fictional, the temple is real and there is, indeed a Temple of Artemis in Ephesus, now part of modern Turkey (although, strangely, the real temple was actually rediscovered in 1869).

Aside from the slightly well-worn storyline and the diary conceit which doesn’t quite work, this is a solid release and a fun adventure for the 11th Doctor – although, as with all 11th Doctor and Amy stories, is poorer for not featuring Rory.

You have to love TV Comic Doctor Who. It’s so very close to the real thing and yet so far at the same time.

The Doctor, John and Gillian arrive on Vortis and find the Menoptra at the mercy of the Zarbi again. It turns out some other aliens want some rare mineral from Vortis and have enslaved some Menoptra, mind-controlling the Zarbi to aid them. They’ve also, for some reason, created flying Zarbi suits with laser weapons.

There are some great images in this - the Doctor being whacked by a rock and flown away by Zarbi; the alien invaders strapping him to a table with a laser heading towards him slowly like James Bond at the mercy of the villain; the alien invader crawling out of a Zarbi suit.

It’s interesting that this story also has Zarbi you can climb into and control like in Lair of the Zarbi Supremo. Weirdly, this story can’t seem to decide if the Zarbi are mindless drones or an evil force to be combatted. (Listening to the novelisation and it’s interesting to note that Strutton hints at more autonomy for the Zarbi, even with the Animus, so maybe this was something being picked up on by these writers). It smacks of the same desire that came with the Quarks extra-curricular appearances. Both they and the Zarbi get presented as evil in their own right rather than being slave to some sort of master. I guess it was all part of trying to make them the next Daleks.

The Menoptra are pretty useless in this story but at least they’re not as openly hostile as they are in the annual story The Lost Ones. They know something is wrong with a nearby mountain where Menoptra have disappeared but haven’t bothered to investigate and are surprised to find a whacking great abandoned spaceship atop it, covered in dust. They also seem never to have discovered the alien’s secret base - which is huge!

The alien invaders - the Skirrons - are typically two-dimensional baddies intent on becomng ‘masters of the universe’. We have to credit the TV show’s writers, directors and producers with striving to create a show which rose above this straightforward ‘aliens are evil’ trope and actually bothered to give us alien races who were ‘people’ like the Menoptra or the Sensorites. Even the ‘evil’ Daleks have more nuance. There’s a really obvious attitude in terms of ‘writing for children’ that has never affected the main show but really is to the detriment of these comic strips.

The violent ending is also indicative of how these writer’s didn’t seem to understand Doctor Who. The Doctor, in a flying Zarbi suit, turns around and blasts the alien base to kingdom come. It just isn’t right and, as fun as these comic strips are, they just don’t understand the show rather taking the trappings and placing them over generic sci-fi stories. This still gets a 3/5 from me though just because I find the images so entertaining and overall this is one of the strip’s stronger entries, especially in being a sequel to a TV story.

Forming the first part of the Prisoners in Time graphic novel, Unnatural Selection is a fun little tale of the 1st Doctor, Ian, Barbara and Vicki visiting the Doctor’s friend, Thomas Huxley - a Victorian scientist and education reform campaigner. They join him in investigating the disappearance of two of his students in the underground tunnels and discover the Zarbi! It’s not long before they also discover the Animus.

The artwork for this part is not great and there are some decidely odd depictions of the 1st Doctor. The Zarbi though look superb and the Animus, although only briefly in the story before being rammed by a steam train driven by Ian, is authentically depicted. I checked at the artist is Simon Fraser who is also responsible for a run of 11th Doctor comics I was not a fan of artwise. It’s a shame because the Zarbi and Animus look great whilst the various human characters are borderline grotesque at times.

The explanation for how the Animus and Zarbi got to the Victorian London Underground is left hanging as it is revealed later in the graphic novel but as a ‘mini-adventure’ this is pretty good and seeing the Zarbi - and the Animus - in the London Underground is an arresting image.

Every now and again my crazy journey through Doctor Who in order of it’s relationship to the chronology of Earth (as charted in Lance Parkin’s seminal A History volumes), meets a brand new episode in the same time zone I am working through. At the moment, I am working through the 1950s and last week, the 15th Doctor and his newest companion, Belinda, arrived in 1952 in the story, Lux.

I struggle a little to review stories as brand new as this in my marathon. Most of the stories are ones I have watched or listened to before, sometimes more than once (especially in the case of the classic series) and therefore I already have thoughts and opinions formed in my head.

A new episode is a different beast. I’m still formulating my thoughts on the episode as well as reading what everyone else thought. On the whole, this is an episode which seems to have gone down pretty well in general. The combination of animation and live action is unique for Doctor Who and the meta elements of the story, while obviously dividing opinion as that sort of thing often does, have at least made a relatively positive impact.

As a story set in the 1950s, but in Miami, this story evokes more the episodes of Quantum Leap I’m currently watching set in this era, than it does the stories from Doctor Who I’ve reviewed from this time – The Idiot’s Lantern and The Temptation of Sarah Jane Smith are stories more rooted in the previous decade, and so are some of the audio stories like An Ordinary Life and The Creeping Death are ‘drab’ and ‘working class’ in their aesthetic.

Lux is vibrant and flashy. The bright colours of the diner; the magic of cinema with the deep reds of the upholstery and the curtains and the flickering images; and of course Mr Ring-a-Ding himself, bursting out of the cinema screen in all his technicolour glory. It’s a huge contrast from something like The Idiot’s Lantern which also sees an image on screen start to talk to its audience. In that, the Wire more or less stays black and white for the entire story (with a couple of brief exceptions) and this is in keeping with the focus on television which, of course, wouldn’t see colour for quite a while after the 50s. Lux, however, is about cinema and the sparkle of the USA at this time. Even when the story is showing us black and white films or Mr Pye’s wife steps out of a movie in black and white, colour is never far away – the films are always framed in the context of the red, plush auditorium and Mr Pye’s wife gently turns to colour as they dance (in a scene which has echoes of the film Pleasantville).

The mirroring of The Idiot’s Lantern continues in the fate of Mr Ring-a-Ding’s victims which isn’t a million miles from the fate of the Wire’s victims in the former story. All are pulled into the screen and condemned to a living death inside the TV or filmstock. And then it also happens to the Doctor and Belinda as they are dragged into the animated world.

I was very excited when it was revealed that the Doctor and Belinda were to be animated in this story. Obviously, it’s been done before in sci-fi and fantasy TV, notably in Farscape and Supernatural, and it also formed the whole basis of the 8th Doctor novel, The Crooked World, but it was still exciting to finally have scenes like this on screen in Doctor Who.

And I wasn’t disappointed – well, not completely. I was a little disappointed that the animated Doctor and Belinda stayed in one scene (a cool, night-time Miami) but the rest was what I had hoped for, even if, ultimately it was quite a short sequence. The most striking thing for me was how Gatwa and Sethu subtly adapt their performance style to suit the medium they are in. It’s ever so slightly stylised and forced and fits perfectly.

The story then takes a further sharp turn into being fully meta as we reach the, no doubt heading for infamy, ‘fan scene’. Pushing out of the screen, the Doctor and Belinda find themselves in an ordinary sitting room confronted by three Doctor Who fans who have been watching them on the television. The scene is packed with easter eggs and it’s fun but, on reflection, doesn’t really work in the narrative. It very clearly starts with a ‘the Doctor and Belinda are fictional characters’ perspective but then switches partway through with no lead in or narrative indication to the fans are fictional and part of the trap. It’s a switch that doesn’t work because it’s just a complete change from what it starts out establishing and there aren’t little clues or hints leading up to it. The perspective just changes because the story needs it to change and it means the scene loses some of its impact, charming though it is.

More successful, I thought, was the scene where the Doctor and Belinda think they’ve escaped back into the real world only to be confronted by a police officer and a bucket of racism. The Doctor realising the details are wrong meaning they are still trapped works well in a way the fan scene doesn’t.

The ‘meta’ element is obviously also reminiscent of last season’s second story The Devil’s Chord and this works as a companion piece to that not least from the fact that Maestro and Lux are both members of the Pantheon. But the fourth wall breaks, the Doctor and companion getting kitted out to a contemporary soundtrack and the general tone of the whole thing are very similar and echo the way that during his first tenure, RTD would often start each series with thematically similar stories (a present day, a future and a celebrity historical start Series 1, 2 and 3 and even though The Fires of Pompeii doesn’t have ‘celebrity’ status, Series 4 still follows that format). There definitely seems to be a style similarity, again, between the three stories at the start of Season 1 and Season 2.

The special effects in this story are excellent – Mr Ring-a-Ding is realised incredibly well in both his ‘Roger Rabbit’ 2D form and his ‘Sonic the Hedgehog’ 3D form. Indeed his three-dimensional transformation is a thing of nightmare. Other effects such as the Doctor and Belinda approaching the screen and pushing against it to escape into the ‘real world’ are so convincing I was actually a little unsettled by the thought that they were about to climb into our living room. There was something about the clarity of the image and the stark white background that really worked.

The rest of the production is suitably polished as well from the performances, especially Linus Roache as Mr Pye, to the period trappings of the cinema, diner and costuming.  And of course, Alan Cumming is utterly brilliant as Mr Ring-a-Ding!

Historically, the fact that the story doesn’t shy away from the systemic racism of the time and the segregation of public spaces is great, particularly with our two leads now both being ‘of colour’. It’s handled really well by the script and builds a little on Dot and Bubble’s blunter and deliberately rug-pulling, but no less effective, inclusion.

The ending is, possibly, a little unsatisfying (especially with the echoes of ‘death + death = life’ from last year’s finale) with Mr-Ring-A-Ding ascending to the heavens and becoming light (brought to life by the God of Light as he was) and it remains to be seen where the Pantheon arc is taking us, but I have no issue with Gods in the Doctor Who universe as they have been a feature since the 60s so are not some anathema to the show’s central conceits.

Overall, though, this was a gorgeous, funny, exciting production which pushed at the edges of the envelope of what Doctor Who can do ever so slightly and continues to build around the brilliant relationship already struck up between Gatwa’s 15th Doctor and Sethu’s wonderful Belinda Chandra.

Return to the Web Planet is a charming tale which extrapolates various details from The Web Planet to craft a new, yet familiar story.  The 5th Doctor and Nyssa arrive on Vortis when, again, the TARDIS is forced down on the planet.  Now, of course, it is a jungle world (as re-established in The Naked Flame) but they are soon at the mercy of the Zarbi again when they get caught in a stampede and have to be rescued by two Menoptra.

The two Menoptra, a father and daugher called Acheron and Hedyla, are living away from the Menoptra cities partly because Hedyla is wingless and, as such, shunned by society and considered ugly.  This builds nicely on the wingless Menoptra of The Web Planet who are victims of torture and the wingless Menoptra in The Naked Flame, who is also considered 'second-class'.  The Zarbi are apparently behaving strangely and Nyssa has spotted a human in the jungle.

The mystery builds nicely with Acheron and the Doctor travelling to the Zarbi hive with the Doctor riding a Zarbi called Arbara so he can keep up with the flying Acheron.  The idea that Arbara's name has entered Menoptran culture is a lovely additional detail.  At the hive they discover a second human who has become absorbed into the hive mind.

There is a bit of to-ing and fro-ing and eventually the story ends in a mass Zarbi mating!  The development of the Zarbi is one of this story's strengths with mass migrations influenced by gravitational forces, hive minds and the story ending with human-zarbi hybrids.  The Menoptra aren't developed as much with Acheron and Hedyla very much fitting the mould of characters like Prapillus and Hlynia from The Web Planet but they are played very well by Sam Kelly and Julie Buckfield.

The strength of Return to the Web Planet is that it continues that story's admirable attempt to develop an alien ecosystem and adds details which make a lot of sense - the gravitational forces are centred around a 'lode seed'; Acheron's tower where he and his daughter live, is made out of paper - created by the Zarbi in a way similar to how wasps make nests.  There is also the inclusion of the poetry prevalent in The Web Planet's script with talk, in this story, of the overland (space) and spacecraft being referred to as ships and their pilots as sailors.  Hedyla also can't pronounce Nyssa's name, using a warped version like Arbara and Heron were used in The Web Planet.

And yes, the Zarbi bleeping is still present - but strangely comforting and reassuring (and evocative, helping to further connect this story to its progenitor).

The 5th Doctor and Nyssa are a perfect TARDIS pairing for this story with their close relationship, bound by science and compassion, mirrored beautifully in the similar relationship between Acheron and Hedlya.  Davison and Sutton are on good form as is usual.  Matthew Noble and Claire Wyatt have less to do as the two stranded humans but work well in their roles.

All in all this is a worthy sequel to the original story and proof, I feel, that there are more stories that could be told about this strange, insectoid world of Vortis.

Before listening to this Companion Chronicle, I had wondered about the title and the reason behind it. The blurb made it clear that this was a story set in pre-war Berlin with the 1st Doctor and Susan experiencing the beginnings of the facist regime which would give rise to the Second World War.

Where did alchemy fit into this? I’ll admit, I would often misremember the title and conflate it both with ‘the Anarchists’ and with the other Companion Chronicle: The Anachronauts.

But it is all to do with gold. Gold to fund power and bring about the reparation that Germany so desperately desires in a time of immense hardship and bitterness resulting from the Treaty of Versailles.

I’m pretty well-versed in what Germany was made to do as a result of the First World War due to teaching it to 10 and 11 year olds on a yearly basis. We start our lessons on the Second World War looking at what happened at the end of the First World War and thinking about how a man like Hitler came to power and the promises he made in light of Germany’s punishment.

The Alchemists clearly depicts this period of German history and presents a country on an inevitable path. With ‘brown shirts’ (proto-Nazi/SS types) patrolling the streets; barely-concealed contempt and outright racism towards Jews and an almost obsessive desire to learn a way to extract gold from anywhere, it’s a horrible place that Susan finds herself in.

The Doctor very much disappears into the background of the story. A desire to visit a scientific conference – echoes of The Mark of the Rani – leads him to being kidnapped and Susan left abandoned in a foreign land. A simple conceit allows her to have plenty of local currency to pay her way but it is the people she meets along the way that decide her fate and lead to some unpleasant situations where she is interrogated.

It’s quite a linear story. The Doctor and Susan arrive, visit the science conference, the Doctor is kidnapped, Susan meets a British artists , is drugged, ends up in the company of the brown shirts, finds the Doctor and they leave.

There is a little time spent on considering whether history can be changed and it directly addresses the Doctor’s stance in The Aztecs (with the conceit that Susan is writing this story as a letter to Barbara and Ian) but apart from that I didn’t feel there was a huge amount of depth to the story.

It does touch upon how the evil of Nazism is creeping into the society and Susan does reflect on the fate of a child she meets who she suspects will be old enough to fight in the war when it arrive in a few years time but I do feel a little more could have been done with it. Maybe it’s the choice of narrator for this story. Susan’s naivety doesn’t really allow for it and there is a sense that Carole Ann Ford is fighting the script a little. There’s a sense that the actress wants to imbue Susan with more outrage at the society she finds herself than the script actually portrays. Carole Ann was born in 1940 so her relationship with the Second World War will be extremely personal I imagine.

Of course WW2 and the events which caused it were not something the TV series was ever likely to tackle during her time on the show with it being far too recent an event and far too personal to the people involved in making the show. Indeed, it took until 1989 before there was a story actually set during WW2. Even the War Games shied away from that period, only managing to dip its toes into WW1.

With this being a pre-Unearthly Child story there is a rather nice scene where the TARDIS materialises in Berlin and has disguised itself as a continental cylindrical advertising pillar. There is a lovely touch where the posters ‘pasted’ on it are blurred and out-of-focus. It’s a brilliant image and a clever way of playing with a concept from the TV series that we never actually saw (aside from Attack of the Cybermen).

Overall, The Alchemists is quite a matter-of-fact approach to the events occuring in Germany during this time which would lead them along the path to war. It will be interesting to see how other stories set in this pre-war period deal with the upcoming events. I expect a lot of foreshadowing in those focussed on the countries involved but possibly, as with World War One, a number of stories for which the world events barely get mentioned.

The story has some interesting elements, good performances from Carole Ann Ford and supporting artist, Wayne Forester (in a dual role) and a sense of history playing out but I didn’t feel this was an essential Companion Chronicle meeting the high standard often set by this range.

William Shakespeare is probably one of this country’s most famous historical figures. Being that he is associated with the performing arts, it’s only natural that a show as steeped in literature as Doctor Who would want to visit the great man himself. Until the new series however, the Doctor’s relationship with the Bard was restricted to fuzzy images on the Time-Space Visualiser and witty Douglas Adams one liners (or 'surprise' appearances in a couple of audios).

The new series’ penchant for ‘celebrity historicals’ seems heavily biased towards writers probably, as I say, because of how Doctor Who is tied into literature – borrowing ideas left, right and centre from a wealth of classic plays, novels, films and even, in the more modern era, television itself. Shakespeare is even more appropriate due to his own habit of borrowing heavily from already existing myths, stories and other plays.

Each of the encounters has revolved, at least partly, around a mystery involving the writer; Agatha Christie’s disappearance; the ending of Dicken’s unfinished novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood and with Shakespeare, the lost play – Love Labour’s Won.

Taking this as the core of the plot, The Shakespeare Code is packed with educational content. We find out about Shakespeare’s life, his plays and Tudor life in general. The script is littered with references to his work, some factually and some through in-jokes.

Historically we are told about the Globe theatre and even meet it’s real life architect, Peter Streete (although his death by Carrionite is, unsurprisingly, a fictional addition). The shape of the Globe – a tetradecagon – is central to the plot.

We are also presented with a fairly accurate representation of how Shakespeare’s plays were considered in their time – as populist entertainment. People nowadays forget that Shakespeare’s plays were the equivalent of our television and film. He wrote dirty jokes, he wrote sequels, everyone from the poor to the rich experienced what the Bard had to offer. The only misstep is the idea that people visited the theatre at night. Plays were always performed during daylight hours being as artificial light was a little way off invention.

Included in this wealth of historical fact are two real contemporaries of Shakespeare, William Kempe and Richard Burbage, and mention of the fact that Tudor plays were all-male affairs with men dragging up to play the female roles.

We also have the presence of the Master of the Revels, basically the Tudor censor board for plays. Although the character himself, Lynley, is a fictional person (presumably because he dies at the hands of Lilith), the role and attitude are very much historical fact.

References to Shakespeare’s plays litter the dialogue and visuals: the three witches from Macbeth are reflected in the three Carrionites; the Doctor quotes from As You Like It and Hamlet, among other plays, as well as mentioning the Sycorax (a name which Shakespeare uses for an unseen character in The Tempest); The Elephant Inn is a reference to Twelfth Night and there is implication that the ‘Dark Lady’ referred to in Shakespeare’s sonnets could be Martha.

Shakespeare’s life is commented on including his wife, Anne and his son Hamnet who had died from the Black Death. The subject of Shakespeare’s sexuality is considered briefly (with another great line of dialogue from the Doctor) and comments about Dean Lennox Kelly looking nothing like the usual images of Shakespeare – all bald head and collar ruff are played with, alongside the deliberate inclusion of a Midlands accent for the Stratford-upon-Avon born playwright.

Tudor life is superbly presented in costume, location work and set design. The opening scenes showing London Bridge are like the artwork from A Groatsworth of Wit brought to life. The timber framed buildings (filmed, I believe, in Warwick) are incredibly atmospheric and the interior sets are full of detail. The whole production has feels cohesive with no one aspect feeling artificial or out of place. A problem I had with The Vampires of Venice was that, at times, I didn’t feel like I was witnessing the period but a modern representation of it. I didn’t think the supporting artists felt convincing enough and there was something about Trogir which, whilst impressive, didn’t ‘quite’ feel like Venice.

I have no such complaint about Tudor London. Maybe its because it’s a period that is easier to evoke in our own country what with the number of period buildings still standing and maybe it’s because I’ve been wallowing in Tudor atmosphere already through Point of Entry and A Groatsworth of Wit. Certainly the supporting artists convince far more of being from the requisite period. Admittedly the night time setting of the story helps enormously with the atmosphere.

The Shakespeare Code feels like a story written by a long time fan of the series (as indeed Gareth Roberts is). It is one of those tales which ‘explains’ magical happenings with scientific reasoning as in stories like The Daemons. This, I’ve always felt, is something that Doctor Who has always enjoyed doing. As a series, it is really science fantasy and leans towards ‘magic’ far more than other ‘science fiction’ series such as Star Trek or Battlestar Galactica. But, within it’s own rules, there cannot actually be magic and therefore there needs to be an explanation for the devil or magic spells or witches or dragons. To be honest, these explanations are usually fairly pat. ‘The Power of Words’ doesn’t really explain why the Carrionites magic spells work and often, as in this case, a reference to psychic energy is thrown in – which is basically saying ‘it’s magic’. I don’t have a problem with this, though, as it’s the sandpit that Doctor Who has always played in and it allows for fun stories involving witches, vampires and werewolves.

The performances in the story are excellent, particulaly main guest stars Dean Lennox Kelly as Shakespeare and Christina Cole as Lilith. Even small roles such as Dolly Bailey and Shakespeare’s fellow actors convince throughout (in fact I only really noticed how good Kempe and ‘Dick’ were this time round, in their brief scenes together – they’re actually very funny). The two mothers are a little ‘over the top’ but I think when playing ugly witches, you can allow a bit of scenery chewing.

The obvious influence on this story is Shakespeare in Love. The whole ‘sexy’ Shakespeare aspect and slightly comedic slant spins off from that film and it even includes a cameo from Queen Elizabeth I at the end. There is also a little nod to Silver Nemesis when the arrow embeds itself in the TARDIS door (and that’s another story with a cameo from a Queen Elizabeth). There are lots of more obvious references throughout the script and my absolute favourite is the Doctor’s use of Back to the Future to explain to Martha something which it took the Fourth Doctor a whole TARDIS trip to explain to Sarah Jane in Pyramids of Mars (I particularly like his sarcastic retort to Martha’s query of ‘the film?’; ‘No, the novelisation! Yes, the film!’. It’s all very metatextual which is fitting for a story about a lost Shakespeare play.

When I originally watched this story on broadcast I remember being a little underwhelmed. This time I enjoyed it a lot more, probably, as I have said, because I’m revelling in the Tudor period at the moment. That said, however, I did find the ending a little ‘easy’. The Carrionites, in their ‘normal’ form are a little difficult to get a handle on visually as they flit around the screen very quickly. The ending does seem a little glib and the use of ‘expelliarmus’ is maybe the one time the ‘metatextual’ nature of the story goes one step too far.

All’s well that ends well, though (sorry….) and overall I think this story is an excellent example of new series Who. It’s funny, but received fan wisdom seems to have it that Series 3 isn’t very good – Martha is no Rose or Donna, the finale with the Master is rubbish and the season includes fairly ‘bad’ stories such as Daleks in Manhattan, The Lazarus Experiment and 42. Oddly, at the time of broadcast I remember my wife and I commenting that we felt Series 3 was the best yet and we really enjoyed the variety of stories. Series 3 gave us Blink and Human Nature and I also adore Gridlock and actually think 42 is alright, loved The Sound of Drums (although I’ll concede that Last of the Time Lords is a bit of a let down). The Shakespeare Code has improved on repeated viewings for me and consequently I do feel that Series 3 is a unfairly maligned.