My top 5 Tardis teams

Now that Clara’s snuffed it, and the Doctor-Companion team of the last two years has come to a tragic end, I feel like I ought to assess where Twelve and Clara figure in my personal game of Doctor-Companion top trumps.

Here are my five favourite Doctor-Companion teams of the last 52 years.

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5. Four and Romana

Technically this is two Tardis teams, but I really couldn’t choose between the two Romanas here. Romana (both of them) is probably my favourite classic companion, and I thought they both had superb, highly watchable dynamics with Tom Baker’s aloof, alien Doctor. To be honest, Tom Baker’s extraordinary and mesmerising Doctor makes any Doctor-Companion team he’s part of delightfully engaging to watch, but I adored most of all watching him with Romana.

His relationship with the first Romana, played by the beautiful Mary Tamm, was brilliant because it seemed like the Doctor had finally met his match in a companion. Unlike the succession of dim humans he’d taken to travelling with, who awed at his intelligence and obediently did as they were told, Romana considered herself his equal, if not his superior: she was just as intelligent as he was, if not more, and made a point of reminding him of her superior academic accomplishments. She rarely took orders from him without argument and was generally something entirely new to the Doctor. It was brilliant. Nevertheless, they had a great friendship and, despite their prickly moments, were a joy to watch together.

The Fourth Doctor with the second Romana, played by Lalla Ward, was a warmer and more intimate relationship, Romana less icy and prickly towards the Doctor, more fond of him and more appreciative of his experience. Four and Romana II had a more traditional Doctor-Companion relationship of uncomplicated friendship and mutual love of adventure, but the team of two Time Lords still made for a very unconventional and distinctive dynamic. Romana was still, in many ways, the Doctor’s equal, and, accordingly, her relationship with Tom Baker’s Doctor was nothing like that of Sarah-Jane or Leela. It was intellectual and clever and very alien. I loved that. It also helped that there was romance between Tom Baker and Lalla Ward offscreen, manifesting itself onscreen in wonderful chemistry between the Doctor and companion.

I think my favourite Four-Romana moment might have been the Doctor and Romana gadding about Paris in City of Death. They were too cute, and Romana looked just lovely in her schoolgirl outfit.

4. Ten and Donna

Ten and Donna were surely the definitive Doctor-Companion pairing of the Tenth Doctor’s era. Ten and Rose were sweet, but Ten and Donna were genuinely fun. Like Twelve and Clara, Ten and Donna were just two best friends romping around time and space, having the time of their lives together. They were just great mates, and that was their irresistible charm. It helped that Catherine Tate was hilarious, and that Tate and David Tennant had positively electric chemistry together. The banter was — literally — out of this world.

We all remember Ten and Donna fondly for the banter and the comedy and the great friendship between the two, but one of the most memorable and significant Ten-Donna moments was surely Donna’s pleading with the Doctor in The Fires of Pompeii to save Caecilius and his family. It showed how important Donna was to the Doctor personally, that she was more than just a good friend to him. To an extent I don’t think Rose or Martha would have been able to stand up to the Doctor like Donna did in that episode and cut down the Doctor’s Time Lord pretensions the way she did.

3. One, Susan, Ian and Barbara

The original Tardis team. These four were a quirky and eclectic mix of characters, but they were the most endearing and lovable group you could find. There was the tetchy, spiky First Doctor, who nevertheless exuded a certain magic and twinkle that made you love him, and who mellowed over time, under the influence of his companions, into the whimsical, charming, compassionate figure we now recognise as the Doctor. There was Susan, the Doctor’s sweet teenage granddaughter, a rather helpless figure at first, but who eventually came into her own, and eventually left in Doctor Who’s first ever heartbreaking companion exit, the beginning of a beloved tradition. Ian and Barbara, Susan’s abducted schoolteachers, were the most lovely pair, bringing a human groundedness to the first years of the show that could easily otherwise have been very alien. Together they were like a family, albeit a very odd family, all were written so well that you couldn’t help feeling a strong connection to them.

Part of the charm of their unique dynamic was that they were all stuck together, thrown together under unfortunate circumstances (the Tardis was malfunctioning), traipsing across time and space together trying to find a way out of their situation. None of them, except perhaps Susan, was particularly enamoured with the situation they had all found themselves in together at first, but they all grew so close and fond of each other over time. Even the Doctor, who was positively antagonistic towards Ian and Barbara at first, became very fond of them, and came to appreciate the little family he had found himself with, and, when Ian and Barbara eventually found a way to return to Earth, he was very upset and saddened to see them leave.

2. Twelve and Clara

Now that I’ve seen two series of Twelve and Clara, I can say confidently that I love them more than any other Tardis team save for Eleven, Amy and Rory. Clara herself is kind of a middling companion for me — I like her, and she’s grown on me immensely in Series 9 — but she isn’t among my favourites. That said, though, I think Twelve and Clara are nothing short of perfect together. They’re an odd couple, the old man and the pretty young woman, but it works so well. These too are as close as any Doctor and companion can be; they’re not lovers, like Ten and Rose, but just best friends, inseparable friends, who are each other’s entire universes, enjoying each other’s company while they explore the universe together. They’re, frankly, adorable to watch together, and I’m going to miss them so much now that Clara’s gone.

Basically any scene where Twelve and Clara are having fun and enjoying themselves together is vintage Twelve-Clara. Take your pick. A particular favourite of mine was Twelve lecturing Clara on the use of the word “space” before things in Sleep No More. But also the final moments of Last Christmas were terrific, Clara and the Doctor gazing fiercely, almost lovingly, into each other’s eyes, the spirit of adventure taken hold of them both, their connection stronger than it’s ever been.

1. Eleven, Amy and Rory

What can I say? Eleven is my favourite Doctor and Amy is my favourite companion. Eleven’s era is my favourite era of the show, in no small part because of the wonderful characters of the Eleventh Doctor, Amy Pond, and her long-suffering husband, Rory Pond Williams. Amy and Rory were just the most adorable, romantic couple, and their relationship with the zany, wacky Eleventh Doctor made them an irresistible Tardis team, and a positive joy to watch together.

I have a sentimental attachment to these three, because, having only started watching the show in earnest during Eleven’s era, they were my “first” Tardis team, the first Doctor and companion team I followed week-to-week. I think they might have been a major part of the reason I became a fan of this show, because I adored these three wonderful characters so much.

Some of my favourite moments with these three include their reunion in The Pandorica Opens — the Doctor’s hilarious reunion with Roman Rory, and Rory’s touching attempts to get through to Amy. Also, just watching these three muck about was magical, as in episodes like The Power of Three, otherwise a fairly unremarkable script.

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What are your favourite Doctor-Companion teams?

Doctor Who Scene of the Day

To mark the return of Davros to Doctor Who, here’s a clip from his first appearance in Genesis of the Daleks, also featuring the ebullient Tom Baker in his pomp. He was a scary bugger then, and so he is now. Davros was pretty creepy, too, I guess.

Thoughts on: The Day of the Doctor

I’m not going to lie. I have really mixed feelings about Doctor Who’s fiftieth anniversary special. On the one hand, I was squeeing for dear life alongside millions of other Whovians worldwide as I watched this special when it was broadcast simultaneously around the world. I was a bleary-eyed wreck for the rest of the day, given “broadcast simultaneously” for me meant waking myself up when it was still dark, but I had no doubts at all that it was worth it. The episode was a roaring success, a perfect celebration of Doctor Who’s fifty years. It was written as a “love letter” to the fans, and I, zealous initiate to the fandom that I was at the time, felt adored. On the other hand, the über-fan in me can’t help but put aside my gushing adoration for the special as a Doctor Who episode and agonise, as only an über-fan can, over the huge ramifications what happened in this episode has for the ongoing narrative of the show. I mean, what happened in The Day of the Doctor was big. Huge. It changed the past and present of the show, and marked out its future. And, I hate to say it, but I’m not sure I’m okay with that.

Don’t get me wrong, though. I’ll start out this review with what I liked about the episode: everything. Or almost everything, as I’ll explain. The Day of the Doctor is some of the best produced, best written Doctor Who in the show’s now almost-52-years-and-counting history. It was only appropriate that, for the show’s golden jubilee, it revisit what’s not only the biggest in-story event in the show’s history, but the event that separates the old series from the new. Eight years of listening to the Doctor’s angsty emo moaning about the Time War, and we finally get to see the damn thing — and the Doctor’s critical role therein. It was a coup on Steven Moffat’s part to write in a heretofore unseen incarnation of the Doctor, conceived as the Doctor who fought in the Time War — and ended it. We were treated to stunning scenes of John Hurt as the War Doctor duking it out with Daleks at the Fall of Arcadia. It shortly became clear what this momentous episode was about when the scene soon changed to a derelict old barn, wherein the Hurt Doctor caressed apprehensively a strange, ominous-looking instrument. “Oh my god,” gasped millions of fans in unison. We’re witnessing that moment. To see the Doctor in the moments before he ends it all; that is truly special. The tortured, tormented expression in the Doctor’s eyes said all.

The story goes on to explore the Doctor’s frame of mind before and after he made the fatal decision to activate the Moment and end the Time War. To end it all and live is the Doctor’s punishment for activating the Moment. To see what he becomes after is the Moment’s attempt to dissuade him. The Doctor’s interactions with his past and future selves are, inevitably, spiked with levity and humour, but there’s equally a heavy solemnity to the proceedings given that, when the Doctor meets himself, he’s forced to confront who he is, especially when one of the selves he meets is the self he’d rather forget, that represents what he hates about himself. The Tenth and Eleventh Doctors are confronted, even shaken, by meeting their dark, shadowy past life whose memory they’ve done their best to repress, and whose reappearance has inevitably conjured up traumatic memories and uncomfortable truths. But for the War Doctor, meeting his future selves is an enlightening experience; he’s encouraged to see that he’s the Doctor again, the man who saves worlds, but yet he finds his post-war incarnations unrecognisable. “I don’t know who you are, either of you. I haven’t got the faintest idea.” As the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors are characterised as “the man who regrets” and “the man who forgets”, and their juvenile behaviour portrayed as a conscious aversion to what they used to be, the episode introduces a fascinating spin on the Doctors of the modern series. The trauma and regret over his actions in the Time War is depicted as having fundamentally changed the Doctor on an emotional level, has shaken his very conception of self to the core, leading him to be the way he is, even to the extent of running from himself. It’s compelling, absorbing writing.

But then it gets complicated. The War Doctor, having seen his future, is, everything considered, enheartened by what he’s seen, and decides that he’s doing the right thing back on that barn on Gallifrey. The Tenth and Eleventh Doctors follow him. It almost seems at first like the Doctor, his post-war selves, has reconciled himself with the decision he made.

“All those years, burying you in my memory.”
“Pretending you didn’t exist. Keeping you a secret, even from myself.”
“Pretending you weren’t the Doctor, when you were the Doctor more than anybody else.”
“You were the Doctor on the day it wasn’t possible to get it right.”

I think this was the most emotionally gratifying moment in the story. The Doctor, having been tormented and agonised over what he did for centuries, loathed and reviled his own flesh since the fateful day, finally makes peace with himself, finally allows himself to see that what he did he had to do. He was prepared to do the terrible deed all over again because he knows that it’s what had to be done, and that he had no other choice. “Thank you,” croaked the War Doctor, an expression of supreme serenity and comfort, that of a man at peace, having replaced the anguish and dread which was there before.

But then a teary shake of the head from the pretty girl in the corner, and the Doctor decides that, actually, no, this is all wrong, and that, actually, he’s been hiding a bit of Time Lord jiggery pokery up his sleeve for precisely this eventuality. It’s okay, all! No Time Tots need perish today! This is where my “mixed feelings” come in. If the story had resolved itself with the Doctors making peace with their decision in the knowledge there was no other way, it would have been perfect. I’m not saying I hate the resolution — I’ll admit even I was grinning broadly when the Doctors were exulting excitedly when they realised there was another way — I just think I would have much preferred it never happened. I set out my reasons at length (but with less coherency) here, but I’ll delineate them very briefly here.

Firstly, the resolution positively screamed deus ex machina. What the Doctor did was supposed to be inescapable, but lo! and behold, the Doctor whips out a bit of Time Lord trickery to save the day without needing to spill a drop of Gallifreyan blood. How very convenient. Secondly, the resolution seemed to backtrack on what literally just happened in the Doctor’s emotional reconciliation with his decision, his acknowledgement that the decision he made could not be avoided. The script sets up the message that sometimes there is no “right” answer to a problem, that sometimes inconvenient, even terrible, decisions have to made which are inescapable. This was the one time the Doctor couldn’t just fly in and save the day, crying “Geronimo!” or “Allons-y!” with the hero music blaring in the background. And then it immediately backtracks by portraying the Doctors doing exactly that. Is the message that there is a right solution to every problem? That the Doctor will always save the day? Really? Thirdly, I’m not sure I like what the resolution means for the Doctor’s character. The Doctor’s actions in the Time War, and particularly his decisive role in ending the Time War, defined the character of the modern Doctor. Common to all the modern Doctors was how the guilt and remorse over the Time War affected him. It added compelling mystique and emotional depth to the Doctor’s character. Now that the Doctor knows he actually saved, not burned, Gallifrey, that element of the Doctor’s character that made him so interesting is now gone. Moffat has tried to find other ways to make the post-DOTD Doctor interesting, such as questioning the Doctor’s morality (for the umpteenth time), but the “Am I a good man?” stuff in Series 8 was inevitably going to ring distinctly hollow after this. I’ve tried to condense my critiques as much as possible because I don’t want to bore my long-suffering readers with an extended rant, but, as I said, I do more justice to my gripes here, if you want to read them.

For all my regret over the continuity implications of this story, I must emphasise that I still love it to bits. I couldn’t help loving it, even if I tried. It’s just a fantastic script, fantastically produced with fantastic performances and contributions by all involved. Billie Piper was entrancing. David Tennant’s still got it, in buckets. John Hurt was a presence to be contended with. Ingrid Oliver as Osgood was adorable. Tom Baker’s cameo was utterly mesmerising, the great man delivering in those moments what was possibly the best little bout of acting he’s ever contributed to the show. The sub-plot concerning the Zygons was captivating in its own right, and could easily have made up a quality Doctor Who story on its own. All the affectionate references to the last 50 years of Doctor Who were a gratifying treat, in the way the kinds of confectionery pastries that melt in your mouth are. It was watching this and the other 50th Anniversary specials, after all, that spurred me to go back and watch the classic stories for the first time. The last word, though, has to go to the three men who were given the honour of playing the titular character on this great occasion, and who each acquitted themselves with distinction. Matt Smith, David Tennant and John Hurt were an absolute joy to watch together. Their dialogue and interactions were what made this story. I honestly can’t remember laughing more at Doctor Who than I did watching the three Doctors together. “It just occured to me. This is what I’m like when I’m alone.” Indeed.

Despite my very considerable gripes, I’m succumbing to the temptation to give this story top marks, in spite of myself. It’s just an absolute triumph, in every way that matters.

Rating: 10/10.

How to make a Whovian in 13 stories

I got the idea for this post from the article Introducing newbies to Doctor Who through online streaming at Kasterborous. I’ll admit I’ve often spent some time contemplating the very topic: which stories would I show to someone to turn them from a non-fan into a fan. Which stories would I show to a Whoob (Who-noob, geddit?) to get them hooked on Doctor Who?

Unfortunately I haven’t yet had the opportunity to put this scheme into practice, but here are thirteen stories—one for each Doctor—I’d show a non-fan to attempt to co-opt them into the fandom. These aren’t necessarily my favourite stories for each Doctor, but they’re the ones I think would most engage a non-fan with the franchise.

Doctor Who scene of the day

“Puny, defenceless bipeds…”

Classic Who marathon: impressions

My recent watching of the Doctor Who TV Movie completes the “Classic Who” segment of my 50-year marathon, having watched all of the classic Doctors in order from Hartnell to McGann for the first time. It’s taken me the better part of a year, and I’m pleased to have, er, “caught up” with the first 33 years of Who that I missed by virtue of not having been alive. I’ve soaked up many memorable moments from the show’s original run and thoroughly submerged myself in Who history and lore. To complete my 50-year marathon, I need only to watch “New Who” up to Capaldi. The New Who segment of my marathon will be a rewatch, but I’ve been enjoying following the life and times of this alien time-travelling physician so much that I simply have to keep going until the end. It’d feel incomplete otherwise.

In any case, before I move onto Eccleston, I’ve decided to listen to the Eighth Doctor Big Finish audios (or some of them, at least). McGann, very unfortunately, didn’t get an “era” on television like the rest of the Doctors; his only televised outing was a very ordinary television movie. The Eighth Doctor’s “era” is on audio, and, I understand, McGann, like Colin Baker, was “redeemed” on audio by Big Finish. So I feel I owe it to McGann, given he is as legitimate an incarnation of the Doctor as any other, to immerse myself in his Doctor’s adventures just as I’ve immersed myself in the adventures of his predecessors, and as I will his successors. Thus, I’m delaying moving onto the revival as I experience the “McGann era” on audio. I’ve started with the Eighth Doctor’s adventures with Charley Pollard in Big Finish’s monthly range, which are the earliest in his timeline (apart from a couple of the more recent releases starting with In the Company of Friends). At the time of writing this, I’ve listened from Storm Warning through to The Chimes of Midnight, and have been very impressed with McGann from what I’ve listened to so far. I’ll be posting brief reviews of each audio I listen to in my regular “Latest Big Finish listens” feature.

In any case, having now seen all of Classic Who, and all of televised Who in general, it’s time to write down some impressions (and lists, lots of lists. Whovians love lists).

If I were to list my favourite eras of the show by Doctor (excluding McGann; as it would not be fair either to judge him by the movie alone, nor to judge him taking into account his audios without doing the same for Colin Baker, etc.), it would go like this:

1. Smith era (2010-2013)
2. Pertwee era (1970-1974)
3. Tom Baker era (1975-1981)
4. Davison era (1982-1984)
5. Troughton era (1966-1969)
6. Capaldi era (2014-)
7. McCoy era (1987-1989)
8. Eccleston era (2005)
9. Hartnell era (1963-1966)
10. Tennant era (2005-2009)
11. Colin Baker era (1984-1986)

I should say there are no eras of the show I really dislike, just as I don’t dislike any of the Doctors. I’m in the awkward position of having Colin Baker as my second favourite Doctor but liking his era the least — that’s because, while I absolutely adored his interpretation of the Doctor, the stories he was given were generally sub-par compared to the rest of the show, without being bad as such.

I started with William Hartnell, the original. I enjoyed his stories, and I enjoyed watching Hartnell himself. Hartnell clearly put a lot into that character, as the First Doctor is always a pleasure to watch, especially in his first season. The Hartnell era (particularly Season 1) is perhaps the most experimental in the show’s history, as the production team were working with a completely blank slate, and it’s a privilege to watch the show trying different things, testing its strengths, shaping itself. To my mind, Season 1 of Doctor Who is a straight run of classics (apart from episodes 2-4 of An Unearthly Child), and certainly one of the best ever seasons of Who; despite the low-rent production, it has all aged exceptionally well (which cannot be said for many serials in later eras). Seasons 2 and 3 (and 4) didn’t meet the consistent quality that Season 1 had achieved, but there are still a spattering of gems throughout, albeit among a lot of rubbish as well. The Doctor’s companions, especially Ian and Barbara (although Vicki is an all-time favourite of mine), are all great, lovable characters who made the Hartnell era even more enjoyable. The First Doctor himself is a compelling and interesting character, and it is fascinating to watch the Doctor transition over his era from a cantankerous, resolute recluse who seemed to desire only to be left alone into the character we know as the Doctor today, the renegade Time Lord determined to fight evil and injustice in the universe wherever he finds it.

Patrick Troughton’s era I just found great, walloping fun. The stories in the Troughton era are uncomplicated monster-of-the-week runarounds, commonly in the “base-under-siege” style. There’s nothing wrong with that: I know plenty of fans regret the poor scripts and simplistic stories of the Troughton era, but if you can just enjoy these stories for what they are, as I was able to do, Troughton can be marvellously fun. Even rather pedestrian scripts that would seem utterly silly and juvenile in, say, Season 26, like The Dominators, can be great fun if you appreciate them for what they are and just allow yourself to be absorbed by the story. In any case, the Troughton era has its fair share of undisputed classics, such as The Power of the Daleks, The Moonbase, The Evil of the Daleks, The Tomb of the Cybermen, The Enemy of the World, The Web of Fear, The Mind Robber, The Invasion, The Seeds of Death and The War Games, despite many episodes being regrettably missing. Troughton had a succession of great companions: Ben & Polly, Jamie McCrimmon, Victoria Waterfield and Zoe Heriot. Jamie is an all-time fandom favourite, and, for me, the team of the Second Doctor, Jamie and Zoe is one of the most memorable and definitive TARDIS teams of all. The Second Doctor is played superbly all throughout his era by Patrick Troughton, who is easily the best actor to play the role in the classic run, and gives his all to the role. Troughton is an absolute joy to watch, and if he doesn’t significantly elevate the quality of his stories, no one does.

Jon Pertwee’s era is my favourite era of the classic show. Like the preceding era, it’s great fun, but with some distinctive aspects: namely, the earthbound stories and prominence of UNIT. When I had reached the Pertwee era, my initial reaction was “Oh great, a whole era of stories set on Earth. How unexciting.” What’s the point of a show about a man who can travel anywhere in time and space if he never leaves the Home Counties? However, I enjoyed the earthbound dynamic much more than I thought I would. I really grew fond of the “UNIT family” of the Brigadier, Liz Shaw/Jo Grant/Sarah-Jane Smith, Benton and Yates, who are all fabulous characters played well by great actors. The idea of having the Doctor marooned on Earth working for UNIT could easily have misfired, but it is pulled off superlatively, so much so that it’s my favourite era of the classic show, even if Pertwee himself is not one of my favourite Doctors. The Pertwee era, for me, is a long run of mostly high quality stories, which I only truly began to appreciate when I got to later eras of the show where such high quality writing and production became less commonplace. The Pertwee era gave us three classic, fondly-remembered companions — the Brigadier, Jo Grant and Sarah-Jane Smith — as well as the enduring enemy of the Master, and a whole host of great, classic stories.

The Tom Baker era, as fans know, is when Doctor Who reached its zenith in terms of popularity and presence in the public consciousness. Indeed, the first few seasons of Tom Baker are, to my mind, Doctor Who at its consistent best. The run of stories from The Ark in Space to The Sun Makers is an unbroken succession of 20 of the most memorable stories in the show’s history, with an abnormally high concentration of outright classics. It is an era when the show was simply getting it so right all the time. It also helps a great deal that Tom Baker is the most compelling portrayal of the character yet and since, an enigmatic, magnetic, and totally alien character by whom you simply can’t help but be mesmerised. Tom Baker’s companions were all memorable, even K9, although the Doctor looked a little put out in Logopolis surrounded by Tegan, Nyssa and Adric (missing Romana, one guesses; and yes, I totally ship them). The era began to lose its way in its fifth season, the Key to Time saga, and never recovers the glittering heights of Seasons 12-15, but even the latter stories of the Tom Baker era are generally higher quality than most of what came afterwards. There are still a smattering of great stories in these later seasons of the era, such as The Pirate Planet, The Stones of Blood, City of Death, Full Circle, The Keeper of Traken and Logopolis. Additionally, Shada, had it been completed, would easily have been one of the gleaming high-points of the show on par with The Caves of Androzani and City of Death, and, in the modern series, with Blink.

Like, Pertwee’s era, I enjoyed Peter Davison’s era far more than I anticipated, as I did the Fifth Doctor himself. The Davison era started uneasily, but soon found its rhythm. From Kinda onwards, the stories are generally quality, with the odd clunker here and there (*cough* Terminus *cough*). In Davison’s era, one can definitely sense the difference between John Nathan-Turner’s stewardship and previous eras of the show, not least in the adoption of silly “uniforms” for the Doctor, the exclusive use of tinny synthesizer music, and the marked difference in tone and feel (creepy gothic horror out, floodlit spaceships and other indistinguishable sets in). Davison’s companions are one unfortunate aspect of his era: while I personally like Nyssa, and Adric eventually grew on me, Tegan is annoying and awful (the stereotypical antipodeanity of her character was exaggerated to cringing point; she seemed to be able to talk only in cliches; and her constant cynical moaning must have sorely tried the Doctor’s seemingly infinite reasonableness and patience), and Turlough is a cowardly git, although he, at least, improves. In any case, the Doctor often seemed to be left somewhat overwhelmed by the number of hangers-on following him everywhere, getting in his way as he tries to save the universe. The balance is only rectified when Peri joined the Doctor at the end of Planet of Fire, but only for one story (what a great one it was, though). Over the course of his era, Davison himself became one of my favourite Doctors. Once I looked past the silly cricket whites he never took off, the Fifth Doctor was actually a highly engaging interpretation of the character, the original “old man in a young man’s body” Doctor. Davison developed and modified his Doctor’s characterisation over his three seasons, finally perfecting it in his final season, having gone from irritating youthful enthusiasm to gruff and world-weary, yet still unfailingly polite (which I find much more interesting).

Colin Baker, as I’ve said is my favourite Doctor of the classic era, and my second favourite Doctor of all, but whose era is my least favourite. From my perspective, Colin had one classic story (The Two Doctors), four other above average stories (Vengeance on Varos, Revelation of the Daleks, Mindwarp, The Ultimate Foe), and the rest were all either average or bad. Colin’s era began badly in The Twin Dilemma, but picked up in Vengeance on Varos and put out a couple of decent, even good stories that nevertheless fly under the radar as a result of the unremarkable stories that surrounded them. The Trial of a Time Lord was a great misfire which nevertheless has its great, even inspired moments, but ultimately falls flat. I think the problem was that Doctor Who, by then, had become too repetitive and samey; the right thing to do when Colin took over was to take the show in a completely new direction, preferably darker and more grown-up, to match the Sixth Doctor’s character (which was eventually done with McCoy), rather than to keep making more of the same. It does seem, in any case, as though the writers had begun to run out of ideas in Colin’s era: the scripts seem lazy and half-arsed, not to mention unimaginative. None of this, of course, was Colin’s fault. It seemed Colin was much more enthusiastic about the show than either JNT or the writers; he had big plans for his very interesting interpretation of the character, and was unabashed about his desire to surpass Tom Baker’s record of seven seasons playing the Doctor, and played the character himself with such zeal and conviction. For his commitment, he was unceremoniously and unfairly sacked by the BBC bigwigs (it really should have been JNT, who had done all he could and actually wanted to go). Colin’s is an era of missed opportunities, although not necessarily bad in itself: if you look hard enough, you can find things in this era as great as in any.

Sylvester McCoy’s era constituted something of a rebirth for the show, a rebirth that had been sorely needed. In the first place, though, the McCoy era started with the “silly season”, Season 24. A lot of fans deride Season 24 as an all-time low for Doctor Who before a glorious regeneration, but it can be quite enjoyable if, like Patrick Troughton’s era, you enjoy it for what it is; both Paradise Towers and Delta and the Bannermen are decent and enjoyable enough stories in their own right. However, the great u-turn that the show took in the following season was a positive development: I regard Remembrance of the Daleks and The Greatest Show in the Galaxy as masterpieces both; the latter in particular is an astonishingly creative and exciting exemplar of what the show could have become if it had been allowed to continue. Season 26 continued the new darker, more mature direction, with The Curse of Fenric a parting high-point. We know that it was all too little too late, but the final two seasons of the McCoy era are arguably the most creative storytelling the show has done since Season 1. My opinion of McCoy’s era is only slightly diminished by the fact that, despite his odd moments of glory, I found the Seventh Doctor a rather boring and unengaging Doctor. Ace, on the other hand, was a very interesting and engaging companion, easily the most developed companion of the whole classic run, and the unprecedented focus on Ace’s character prototypes the companion-centred storyelling of New Who.

So now, at the close of the classic segment of my 50-year marathon, my “favourite Doctors” list stands something like this:

1. Matt Smith
2. Colin Baker
3. Tom Baker
4. Peter Davison
5. Christopher Eccleston
6. David Tennant
7. Paul McGann
8. Peter Capaldi
9. Jon Pertwee
10. Patrick Troughton
11. William Hartnell
12. Sylvester McCoy

As Whovians know fully well, one’s personal “favourite Doctors” list is subject to constant change, even after one has long seen everything there is to see of Doctor Who. I’m sure mine will continue changing, especially as Paul McGann has been rapidly shooting up my list the more I hear of him on audio. My rewatching of Eccleston and Tennant in the New Who segment of my marathon may yet change my opinions of them (Matt Smith has no chance of being dislodged from the top spot). In addition, Peter Capaldi also has the potential to make it much higher, come Series 9.