Who50 #1: "The Power of the Daleks"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #1, my favourite Doctor Who adventure of all time: "The Power of the Daleks", a 1966 six-part serial written by David Whitaker and Dennis Spooner and directed by Christopher Barry.

On the human colony of Vulcan, an ancient spacecraft has been recovered. Inside the colony's lead scientist discovers three inactive Daleks. He wants to reactivate them and use them to improve the colony's manufacturing capacity. Only the Doctor may be able to stop the Daleks from taking over the colony - but the Doctor isn't quite himself. In fact, his travelling companions Ben and Polly aren't one hundred per cent certain that he's the Doctor at all...

"The Power of the Daleks" isn't just a brilliant Doctor Who story - and trust me, if you've never listened to the audio recordings of it, it's absolutely fantastic - it's also pretty much the most significant serial in Who history. For just over three seasons viewers had watched William Hartnell's Doctor travel time and space, fighting evil and exploring human history. At the conclusion of "The Tenth Planet" the Doctor collapsed to the floor, and when he sits up in "The Power of the Daleks" episode 1, the character is played by a different actor: Patrick Troughton. The series have have already been running for three years to popular acclaim, but it's with "The Power of the Daleks" that Doctor Who - the Doctor Who with which we as fans are familiar - actually begins.

Who50 #2: "Genesis of the Daleks"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #2: "Genesis of the Daleks", a 1975 serial written by Terry Nation and directed by David Maloney.

If there's a moment in Doctor Who that encapsulates why the character of the Doctor is such a special one, it's to be found in "Genesis of the Daleks": the Doctor (Tom Baker) holding two wires that, if touched together, will spark an explosion and erase the Daleks from history. If this was an American hero, let's say Star Trek's James T. Kirk, he'd whack the wires together, kill all the Daleks and beam back up to Enterprise. If this was a traditional hero, doubt would not enter the picture. This, however, is the Doctor. He's different. He agonizes over the decision, and abhors the responsibility and - ultimately - can't bring himself to do it. They may be the Daleks - the most destructive species in the history of the universe - but they're also a species. The Doctor can't commit genocide without making himself as callous a killer as the Daleks are.

Of course later iterations of Doctor Who do muddy the waters a bit: by "Remembrance of the Daleks" in 1988 Sylvester McCoy answers Tom Baker's "do I have the right?" with a resounding "yes", tricking Davros into using the Hand of Omega and destroying the entire planet Skaro. By the new series the Doctor is a PTSD-afflicted survivor haunted by murdering not only all of the Daleks but all of the Time Lords as well. What's important, however, is not whether or not the Doctor commits genocide - it's that he has the moral indecision about it at all.

Who50 #3: "The Curse of Fenric"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #3: "The Curse of Fenric", a 1989 serial written by Ian Briggs and directed by Nicholas Mallet.

The Doctor and Ace arrive at a British naval base during World War II - on precisely the same day that a secret Russian mission has commenced to infiltrate the base and steal a vital code-breaking machine. At the same time something ancient and evil is stirring in the ocean off nearby Maiden's Point - and the Doctor may know a lot more about what's going on than he's letting on.

Okay, we're getting to the point in this countdown that I feel pretty comfortable describing these serials as masterpieces. "The Curse of Fenric" is a stunning work of televisual science fiction, rich in plot and character, filled with moments of horror and tension and soaked in theme and tone. It is a near-faultless serial, giving Doctor Who its best four episodes since the mid-1970s and promising a bold new direction for the series going forward. It is, of course, a cruel irony that by the time this serial went to air on BBC1 Doctor Who had been cancelled. All of the promise of "The Curse of Fenric" would have to wait 16 years to be fulfilled by Russell T Davies in the new series.

Who50 #4: "The Aztecs"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #4: "The Aztecs", a 1964 serial written by John Lucarotti and directed by John Crockett.

The TARDIS arrives in ancient Mexico, where the Doctor and his companions encounter the legendary Aztecs and Barbara is mistaken for an incarnation of the goddess Yetaxa. When she sees this as an opportunity to turn the Aztecs away from human sacrifice it puts her on a collision course with the Doctor, who refuses to allow her to divert the course of history.

If there's a single line of dialogue that echoes throughout Doctor Who's first three years, it's this: 'you cannot rewrite history - not one line!' Contemporary viewers of Doctor Who expect a free-wheeling mucking about with history in the series, however during William Hartnell's tenure as the Doctor it was a very different state of affairs. The Doctor could interfere with the future, but never the past. His goal in these early historical serials was to escape, and never to change events. It's what drove "Marco Polo", which I discussed some time ago, and it's what gave "The Time Meddler" and "The Massacre of St Bartholemew's Eve" such frission. It's in "The Aztecs" that this stance of non-interference is tackled head-on: Barbara wants to change the Aztecs to save their civilization, and the Doctor is intent upon stopping her from succeeding.

Who50 #5: "The Seeds of Doom"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #5: "The Seeds of Doom", a 1976 serial written by Robert Banks Stewart and directed by Douglas Camfield.

 One of Doctor Who's longest-running reputations is for being very scary for small children. There is an entire mystique built up around children hiding behind their sofa, or peeking out from behind cushions. I'm not sure if I was a particularly unusual child, but despite adoring Doctor Who from the age of three I never found it very scary. Except for "The Seeds of Doom", of course. "The Seeds of Doom" gave me nightmares.

This epic six-parter acted as the finale to Season 13, Tom Baker's second year as the Doctor. It is, in many ways, the archetypal Doctor Who story. It features the Doctor and Sarah-Jane Smith, it wallows in body horror (a staple of the series), it is in part a knowing pastiche, and it features an iconic, well-remembered monster. Its writer, Robert Banks Stewart, was one of the best writers of the period. Its director, Douglas Camfield, is pretty much the best director that Doctor Who ever had.

Who50 #6: "Blink"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #6: "Blink", a 2007 episode written by Steven Moffat and directed by Hettie McDonald.

Amateur photographer Sally Sparrow enters an abandoned house in the search of images to capture, and instead finds a set of creepy stone statues and a message to her, hidden behind some wallpaper, from someone called the Doctor warning her about "the weeping angels". What follows is not only the most effective horror that Doctor Who has ever presented, but also the best-ever exploitation of time travel for narrative purposes in the history of science fiction television.

There are more emotionally engaging episodes of Doctor Who, and more effective ones as well, but in terms of sheer writing mechanics this is the greatest episode of all time: constructed like a clockwork machine in which every cog and gear has a purpose, and every movement ticks over in perfect precision.

Who50 #7: "The Caves of Androzani"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #7: "The Caves of Androzani", a four-part 1984 serial written by Robert Holmes and directed by Graeme Harper.

Everybody dies. No one knows this more keenly that the Doctor, who's died at least 10 times already. Nowhere is the finality of regeneration felt more keenly than in "The Caves of Androzani", a four-part serial from 1984 that presents the final adventure for Peter Davison's fifth Doctor. Shortly into the first episode he and his companion Peri expose themselves to a toxic substance called spectrox. From there on in they are both dying. This serial, one of the best bits of Doctor Who ever produced, is pretty much the bleakest, darkest and most relentlessly miserable story the TV series ever had, because everybody dies. Even the Doctor.

Who50 #8: "The Mind Robber"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #8: "The Mind Robber", a five-part 1968 serial written by Peter Ling and Derrick Sherwin and directed by David Maloney.

When I start rattling off the reasons why I think Doctor Who is the greatest TV series of all time, pretty much my top reason is the fact that - due to the versatility of the format - you can tell almost any kind of story with it. You can tell science fiction, supernatural horror ("Hide"), murder mysteries ("Black Orchid"), comedic romps ("Love and Monsters"), political satire ("The Sunmakers"), historical epics ("Marco Polo"), Shakespearean drama ("The Crusades") and even Arthurian fantasy ("Battlefield"), and the format simply will not break.

I think that, with the possible exception of the aforementioned "Love and Monsters", this idea is best exemplified by "The Mind Robber", a five-part foray into fantasy, folklore and above all bug-eyed surreality. This is Doctor Who at its most bizarre, but also at its most inventive. Its strong sense of play is what makes it, for me, one of the 10 best Doctor Who stories of all time.

Who50 #9: "Full Circle"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #9: "Full Circle", a four-part 1980 serial written by Andrew Smith and directed by Peter Grimwade.

Of all the stories listed in my Top 50 of Doctor Who, it's "Full Circle" that's probably my sentimental favourite. It's not the best serial of all time - as you can see, even I think there are at least eight other stories that are better. It's also not really one that rates exceptionally highly in people's minds. You rarely hear fans discuss it that often, unless it's to bemoan Adric, probably the most contentious companion in the series' history and who is introduced here. When released onto VHS or DVD, it's always been as the first part of "The E-Space Trilogy" - as if it doesn't really deserve the spotlight on its own but instead has to share the attention with another two stories. And the thing is, it deserves a spotlight. It deserves closer attention and better appreciation, because this is a stunning work of science fiction with great performances, solid direction and a strong script (made all the stronger when you learn it's one of two serials in Doctor Who history to be written by a non-professional fan making their TV writing debut).

This might run a little longer than the usual Who50 entry, but then it deserves it, because this is "Full Circle", the ninth-greatest Doctor Who story ever made.

Who50 #10: "The Massacre of St Bartholemew's Eve"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #10: "The Massacre of St Bartholemew's Eve", a four-part 1966 serial written by John Lucarotti and Donald Tosh and directed by Paddy Russell.

The historical adventure was a popular aspect of Doctor Who's early years, comprising roughly a third of William Hartnell's tenure as the Doctor. By the fourth season the production team elected to abandon the format and, asides from a two-episode dalliance with the format in 1982, the historical has never returned. It's a shame, because these historical stories are strong vehicles for character and drama. They can't hide behind rubber-suit monsters or alien planets. They rise or fall based on the plot and the characters within it.

"The Massacre of St Bartholemew's Eve" (or, to use its more common but apocryphal title, "The Massacre") is a stunning example on the sorts of drama Doctor Who can create in a historical setting. It's criminally obscure, even among Who fans, because the entire serial has been lost from the BBC archives. We can listen to it, however, via audio recordings - and those recordings reveal a shockingly mature and confrontational work. To my mind it's the most adult Doctor Who story of all time, and also one of its all-time best.

Who50: "Human Nature"/"The Family of Blood"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #11: "Human Nature" and "The Family of Blood", a two-part 2007 serial written by Paul Cornell and directed by Charles Palmer.


In 1913 England, quiet and awkward teacher John Smith begins a romance with school nurse Joan Redfern. By day he unwillingly shapes his boys into the young soldiers they will be when the First World War breaks out in a year's time. By night he is plagued by dreams of travel through time and space, of Daleks and Cybermen, and of someone called the Doctor. Only Smith's housemaid Martha knows that he is actually the Doctor, on the run from the mysterious Family of Blood - and that the Family has finally discovered his hiding place.

"Human Nature" is a two-part serial so well written and observed by Paul Cornell that it actually feels a little out of place in Doctor Who. With the serial numbers filed off this could have been its own exceptional science fiction series, but as it stands it's merely one of the greatest Doctor Who stories of all time. It's Cornell's second crack at the story, since he first wrote it as a broadly acclaimed Doctor Who novel in 1995. It is heartfelt, lyrical, scary, romantic - and above all it pushes the series into a place it's never previously occupied.

Who50: "The Talons of Weng-Chiang"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #12: "The Talons of Weng-Chiang", a six-part 1977 serial written by Robert Holmes and directed by David Maloney. 

Last week I mentioned that Season 14 was likely to come up again, and here it is with this six-part season finale for Doctor Who's greatest ever year. It is up there with "The Green Death" and "Planet of the Spiders" in terms of nostalgic memories: they were "the one with the giant maggots" and "the one with the giant spiders". This is "the one with the giant rat". Of course it's a dreadfully unconvincing rat, represented either by an actual rat superimposed with blue screen or by a cuddlesome soft-toy prop, but when you're eight years old the production values are pretty much irrelevant when Leela is being stalked through the sewers of 19th century London with the mammoth rodent in hot pursuit.

Doctor Who seems built for the 19th century. It's a period setting that matches perfectly what the series does best: a well-mannered British-accented lead, dark shadowy corners, gothic horror, and so on. It's a period the series has tackled a number of times, in "The Evil of the Daleks", or "The Crimson Horror", or "Ghost Light". "Weng-Chiang" does it best. It's one of the series' most marvellous attempts at pastiche, drawing in such elements as Sherlock Holmes, Fu Manchu, 1970s kung fu and The Phantom of the Opera. Unusually for a six-part story it's incredibly well paced.

Who50: "The Face of Evil"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #13: "The Face of Evil", a four-part 1977 serial written by Chris Boucher and directed by Pennant Roberts.

I was looking over my list of the 50 top Doctor Who stories this morning, and it occurred to me that it's with this serial, which I've ranked #13, we really hit the stories where I can just watch and watch them endlessly and never get tired of them. I know it's usually neater for people to discuss their Top 10s of things, but when it comes to me and Doctor Who I really can't pare my very favourite adventures down to any less than 13, and this is the 13th.

"The Face of Evil" is, in many respects, the perfect Doctor Who story. It has interesting characters played by a strong guest cast. It has the Doctor on top form, being serious when he needs to be and funny when he's allowed to be. It's pinned onto a sensational science fiction premise, but it's focus is on the adventure rather than the science fiction. It boasts a wonderful script by Christ Boucher, later to script edit Blake's 7 and create Star Cops, and it's effectively directed by Pennant Roberts. It's also the debut story for Leela (Louise Jameson), one of the all-time best companions in the history of the series.

Who50: "Midnight"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #14: "Midnight", a 2008 episode written by Russell T. Davies and directed by Alice Troughton.

When Doctor Who returned to British television in 2005 it was under the energetic leadership of executive producer and head writer Russell T. Davies. I remember being tremendously excited, not simply because my favourite TV series was coming back but also because it was Davies who was writing it. Through edgy dramas like Queer as Folk and The Second Coming he had established himself as one of Britain's strongest television writers - arguably that country's best since the late Dennis Potter.

Then when the series finally started, it was a shock to discover that - generally speaking - the series' finest episodes weren't by Davies at all. The better episodes were the ones by Steven Moffat, like "Blink" and "The Girl in the Fireplace", or by Matt Jones, like "The Impossible Planet", or Robert Shearman with "Dalek". All Davies seemed to be providing were overblown misfires like "Aliens in London" or ridiculous season finales like "The Last of the Time Lords" and "Army of Ghosts".

Then came "Midnight", and it was as if the Russell T. Davies of Doctor Who had grabbed a time machine of his own and hired the Russell T. Davies of The Second Coming to write for the series at last.

Who50: "Kinda"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #15: "Kinda", a 1982 four-part serial written by Christopher Bailey and directed by Peter Grimwade.

I was never particularly scared of Doctor Who as a child. There was one story, which we will get to in a few weeks, that gave me nightmares, but generally I never found it a particularly frightening show. Thrilling, certainly, and often very tense, but never actually scary. There were a few other exceptions, however, and here's one: a military officer driven out of his mind, clutching a cardboard cut-out man in his hand as he screams at the Doctor that 'you can't mend people!!' It doesn't involve a monster in a rubber suit, or a giant maggot or spider, and yet it's always been one of the most frightening moments I've encountered in Doctor Who's long history. It's frightening because, unlike Daleks, Cybermen and Zygons, paranoia is real. Mental illness is real. Hindle (Simon Rouse) progressively goes out of his mind while retaining a position of authority, and for once there's precious little the Doctor can do.

Who50: "The Impossible Planet"/"The Satan Pit"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #16: "The Impossible Planet" and "The Satan Pit", a 2006 two-part story written by Matt Jones and directed by James Strong.

One of the things that Doctor Who found problematic in its first two years was iconic monsters. The production team gave it their best shot in 2005 with the Slitheen, who cropped up in three out of the first twelve episodes, but audiences failed to respond to them and as recurring monsters they were quietly shelved (although they did get a fresh lease of life in the subsequent spin-off series The Sarah Jane Adventures). They were intended to return in this two-parter as a cost-saving measure, but instead the money was found to create a new monster - the Ood - so long as only the rubber masks were made and the rest of the monster got to wear a suit. Out of necessity comes genius: the Ood steal the show in these episodes, and became the first bona fide hit monster of the new series.

Who50: "The Girl in the Fireplace"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #17: "The Girl in the Fireplace", a 2006 episode written by Steven Moffat and directed by Euros Lyn.

The TARDIS arrives on a deserted spaceship somewhere in the 51st century - a spaceship inexplicably linked via a portal to the fireplace of an 18th century French palace, and the bedroom of famed mistress Madame de Pompadour.

"The Girl in the Fireplace" is an unexpected gem: it takes a premise that was previously unthinkable in Doctor Who (the Doctor has a romance) and not only pulls it off, but pulls it off in a way that feels natural, believable and as much a part of the fabric of Doctor Who as Daleks or Time Lords. Once again it's a Doctor Who pastiche - in this case cribbing liberally from Audrey Niffenegger's The Time Traveller's Wife. Moffat would return to this book later on when he crafted the Doctor's romance with River Song.

Who50: "Dalek"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #18: "Dalek", a 2005 episode written by Robert Shearman and directed by Joe Ahearne.

The Doctor and Rose arrive in the private museum of the eccentric American millionaire Henry van Statten, filled with alien relics and artifacts. Locked inside a room at the centre of van Statten's archive is an alien; terrified and alone, in excruciating pain. Rose wants to help it, because that's what the Doctor would do. Isn't it?

"Dalek" is the episode that took the 2005 relaunch of Doctor Who and cemented it as a worthy replacement to the original series. It's the best episode of Christopher Eccleston's brief time as the Doctor, and one of the best episodes of the entire 50-year franchise. It achieves this for a couple of reasons, and it's worth going through them one by one.

Who50: "Remembrance of the Daleks"

Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #19: "Remembrance of the Daleks", a 1988 four-part serial written by Ben Aaronovitch and directed by Andrew Morgan.

I always found it funny that Doctor Who's 25th season featured an officially declared 25th anniversary story, "Silver Nemesis", that featured silly Elizabethan time travellers, a talking statue, elderly Nazis and a very small-scale Cyberman invasion of Windsor, and in the same season but not representing the 25th anniversary, was this outstanding four-part serial featuring the return of the Daleks, fresh questions about the Doctor's past and true identity, UNIT-style action and a period setting in Coal Hill Secondary School where Doctor Who started all the way back in 1963.

Who50: "The Empty Child"/"The Doctor Dances"

Welcome to the Top 20! Who50 counts down to the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who by reviewing my favourite episodes and serials over the history of the programme, counting down from #50 to #1. Today, #20: "The Empty Child" and "The Doctor Dances", a 2005 two-part serial written by Steven Moffat and directed by James Hawes.

Christopher Eccleston only played the Doctor for one 13-episode season, but it was such a critical year for Doctor Who that Eccleston managed to make a big impact in those 13 episodes. He is one of my favourite Doctors: deeply wounded and traumatised by war, struggling to recover and clinging on like mad to the first human he makes a connection with: Rose Tyler (Billie Piper). I was never a huge fan of the 10th Doctor/Rose pairing, but I love the 9th Doctor/Rose pairing to bits. In short: Rose saves him, and in return - in the season finale - he saves her.

Before the finale, however, there's this: a creepy, disturbed story of possessed children wearing gas masks, stalking the empty streets of World War II London.