“What is this horrendous place?”
Well, Nyssa, it’s Terminus – a place to which Bor was presumably drawn by nominative determinism.
It’s a drab old hospital where the porters are metal, the doctors are Goths and the burglars are New Romantics.
The Doctor wins a fight, Nyssa loses her skirt and Tegan draws the short straw, what with Turlough staring at her posterior and the extras revealing her upper assets.
Did Olvir train at the Wayne Sleep Combat Academy?
Is the Doctor’s creepy CCTV standard TARDIS issue?
Do the Vanir have enough dog poop bags to last until their next Ocado delivery?
And did Jim and Martin find Terminus to be a real tonic or some used Hydromel?
Find out here…
That infamous moment when the first Ogron on the left accidentally reveals his MENSA potential to his masters but no-one bats a shiny eyelid.
Yes, this is Day of the Daleks in which our intrepid TARDIS twosome wine, dine and enjoy a ride, while Yates pulls rank, Benton pulls out of a minor skirmish and the Brig pulls his hair out as he defends world peace from humans and aliens alike while, no doubt, also taking in washing and doing a paper round.
Will the Jeep Pronto ever make it to market?
Why do people keep giving the Controller dirty looks? Is it his personal hygiene? Or is it because the only kid he ever charges for his sweets is poverty-stricken Charlie Bucket?
And why are the Daleks wasting resources on their minions’ make-up when their vital attack force wouldn’t fill a football team?
Jim and Martin ponder these questions and try to decide whether this is a red-letter day or 24 hours of ennui.
Listen here for their verdict.
“The Doctor’s almost as clever as I am.”
Zoe Heriot may be the Krotons’ pet but she must have been expelled from modesty school.
Yes, this is The Krotons, a saga of sub-standard scientists, snaky CCTV spies and shouty fridges from another world.
The Doctor flunks, Jamie fights and Zoe infuriates while the Gonds lack the gonads to take on their reclusive rulers.
Will Beta reveal the secret of transmat to his backward brethren (or is it still at Beta stage)?
From which Brummie enclave of Johannesburg do the Krotons hail?
Will the Doctor’s twanged nipple ever recover?
And do Jim and Martin think the story is the work of High Brains or should it be dispersed?
Find out here.
“Let’s make this baby fly!”
Said the uncool and un-Welsh Welsh rock ‘n’ roller Billy, who refrains (perhaps disappointingly) from drop-kicking the Chimeron child over the Shangri-La camp’s Olympic size swimming pool.
Yes, it’s time to take a look at the distinctly odd Delta and the Bannermen, a tale of a baffling bee-keeper, unnecessary Americans, a shot-down stand-up and life-size plastic soldiers with lockjaw.
When will Ray realise that she’s barking up the wrong tree? When will Billy realise he’s sniffing around the wrong species? Will the Bannermen have a whip round to get Gavrok a barbecue? And can the Flying Pickets achieve further chart success now their leader has been reduced to smoking footwear?
Don’t expect to find the answers here as Jim and Martin struggle to decide whether to mark the story hi-de-high or hi-de-low.
“You have returned to us, Doctor. Your travels are over.”
But thankfully not forever. It was, still, a long way from being all over.
So Jim and Martin stagger to their century milestone with their biggest story yet, The War Games.
It’s an epic tale of trials, tribulations, heavily corrected (and impaired) vision, and a Very. Stupid. Voice.
The Doctor plays with fridge magnets, Jamie plays the fool, Zoe plays Villa like a violin and the War Lord plays with his real live toy soldiers – and gets a Paddington stare for his trouble.
Romans gawp and mince, wigs wander almost as far as the accents, and the scenery is chewed up, gargled and spat out – even when it’s as wobbly as a Quark under enemy fire.
So do Jim and Martin think this is a worthy end for a very worthy Doctor? Or was it ten parts of terrible tedium?
Listen in to find out.
“I don’t work for anybody. I’m just having fun.”
Not so much fun for the cold turkeys, the cattle-prodded Mandrels and the eviscerated punters on the good ship Empress though.
Yes, this is Nightmare of Eden and ‘nightmare’ could be seen as an apposite epithet by the crew and viewer alike. It’s a heady cocktail of spiked drinks, unfortunate zips and insurance policy wordings.
K9 needs some obedience classes, the Doctor shrieks about his extremities and Romana gets a nasty love bite (but not as nasty as her dress), while Tryst accentuates the silliness, Fisk makes it uniformly worse and Rigg turns on, tunes in and drops out.
So did Jim and Martin find the story as first class as the toilet facilities or were they glad when the nightmare was over?
Find out here.
“I’m not a mountain goat and I prefer walking to any day. And I hate climbing.”
If you think Steven Moffat era Doctor Who taxes the mind, imagine being part of the 1965 audience and having to decode anagrams of the scripted lines on the fly.
And the mind is boggled in many other ways by The Time Meddler. How can an 11th Century monk have a wristwatch, electric stove and gramophone? Has the BBC lost the plot? Has Dennis Spooner been hot-spooning? Or perhaps the pee-drenched padre is to blame and thus a legitimate target of the (extremely) long arm of Doctor Tickle.
Our eponymous hero and visiting Vikings alike get merry on mead from Hur indoors, while Vicki suffers sexism from Steven, the new companion who likes to attack first and ask (too many) questions later. And then not believe any of the answers.
Will the groat ever drop for Steven? Will he find the bovine astronaut he seeks? What do you do if your TARDIS is smaller on the inside? Whose beard is camping out on Eldred’s face?
And did Jim and Martin delight in this first ever pseudo-historical or do they disapprove of all this time meddling?
Find out here.