So, the all-powerful fella, the one who uses his initials, has guided the ship on a course of his own choosing. It’s a name we need not speak. For the three letters have been enough to represent his dominion over all things connected to the franchise. But things have not gone well. There’s been a fair amount of dissent and gnashing of teeth. The keyboard warriors have gone to war and the public, the ones who we class as being ’general’, really couldn’t care less about the situation. They don’t even know, if we’re being honest, that there is a situation. Nevertheless, more than a few stones have still been cast in the direction of the anointed one. His judgements are now being questioned, and his reputation has gained a few scratches that will need some serious buffering. In summation, if I might be allowed to use the irate words of a malfunctioning Dalek…

His vision was impaired.

How is everyone? Feeling okay, are we? A bit less angry? Though still more than a little confused?

You’ve had the time to process events. But the dust hasn’t settled. It’s still well and truly up and swirling about, stinging your eyes, while obscuring the view and making it difficult to see anything that might lie ahead. Then again, even if there was a clearly signed path, given what I’ve witnessed, I’m not sure that I want to continue walking that way. It might be better to stop and turn back to something that’s familiar or take an entirely new route to a more hospitable destination. Yeah, that’s pretty much how I felt back in 1987. When the producer, John Nathan-Turner (aka JN-T), unleashed Season 24 of Doctor Who upon the world.

Did you think I was talking about someone else?

It’s telling that my actual ‘in person’ revisiting of the Seventh Doctor adventure, Delta and the Bannermen has taken such a long time to happen. I vaguely remember watching the original broadcast and being decidedly sniffy about the story as a whole. But the telling part is that, despite these feelings, like any of us fanatics, I kept on watching and forking out the money to feed my growing Doctor Who collection. A VHS copy of Delta and the Bannermen was dutifully purchased; it still remains untouched and pristine, somewhere in the depths of my loft. Then the years rolled on to 2009 and I was forced — yes, forced — to buy a DVD of the same story. Well, you can’t have a gap on your shelf; that would be unthinkable, wouldn’t it? The knowledge of something missing would be too painful. It would nag away at you, drip by dripping drip, stinging like tiny droplets of acid on your unmentionables. Insanity would surely follow. All thoughts would be consumed by the same nagging melody. You’ve bought the Three Doctors boxset with an incredibly cute model of Bessie… but you still haven’t got Delta and the Bannermen. You’ve met an undeniably lovely Colin Baker, had a good old chat, and got his autograph… but where’s the Bannermen? Congratulations, you’ve won the pigging Nobel Peace Prize, but poor old Delta has still not made an appearance, eh? Can you truly know happiness without the Bannermen in your life? Sadly, no: just pay the money and get on with it.

So, I bought the chuffing DVD, ignoring my inner conflict about the quality of the story and giving in entirely to my gluttonous need for merchandise. It has consequently remained in its shrink wrapping until about two weeks ago. That’s from 2009 until now. About 16 years, then? My word, where’s the time gone? Oh, and I’ve also handed over my cash for the Season 24 Collection on Blu-ray, but you just do these things, don’t you? As far as I can see, there’s no rhyme or reason to any of it.

After peeling away the plastic from my Delta and the Bannermen DVD, I’ve embarked on a ‘revisit’ from a first viewing that’s not been far off 40 years in the making. And, after all this time, do I feel differently towards the adventure? Yeah, quite a lot actually: I’ve mostly smiled and found myself enjoying the three episodes. Then again, these days I’m a much more mellow and affable chap, especially when my meds, which are currently at a dosage that would chill out a bull elephant, set about their much-needed work.

The adventure opens with a pleasingly violent battle for survival. Gavrok, the ‘big bad’ of the story, and his very naughty Bannermen are picking off what’s left of Chimeron Queen Delta’s swiftly diminishing forces. For some reason, which I don’t think is ever fully explained, Gavrok wants nothing less than the complete destruction of the Chimeron race. Over the years, several rumours have circulated as to the real cause of this sudden escalation in violence. Some of the proposed ideas can be dismissed as pure fantasy, while others fall into the ever-growing list of conspiracy theories that now plague our lives. Nevertheless, after the recent discovery of new evidence there now appears to be a motive that we are able to confidently hang our hats on. Apparently, the entire conflict was brought about by a decidedly acrimonious eBay dispute. I’m not entirely aware of all the details, but various stories involve Gavrok successfully bidding on a pair of Nike Air Max trainers — don’t bother asking me if they were TNs, that were in ‘as good as new’ condition. Anyway, Gavrok paid the full whack for first-class recorded delivery, but then the Chimerons only sent the package by second. Naturally, old ‘Gavvy’ was fuming, but he was still of a mind to put it all down to experience and do nothing more than leave some negative feedback. Then he spotted that the trainers were badly scuffed. Well, needless to say, that really got his gander up, and so he decided to put all his efforts into completing the utter destruction of the Chimeron race.

Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure that they were TNs.

As far as opening battles go, the scene that we get in Delta and the Bannermen is really not that bad. In terms of a comparison, I suppose you could go down the route of the Battle of Hoth from The Empire Strikes Back. On the one side, Empire has two massive armies of extras, stop-motion AT-AT Walkers and their smaller ‘mini me’ counterparts, Snowspeeders, laser firing cannons, and the vast open landscape of Finse in Norway. Then there’s dear and much-loved Doctor Who, which existed on a budget that wouldn’t have fully covered the cost of the material required in the making of a codpiece for Yoda. Delta and the Bannermen starts off by repurposing the same helmets on the Bannerman’s noggins that were used in the Fifth Doctor story Earthshock. They were worn again, just four years later, in the Sixth Doctor’s The Mysterious Planet. On the plus side, there’s a fairly decent FX shot of a spaceship that looks like it has been done on a computer that’s a little better than the Sinclair ZX Spectrum 16K effects that we’re used to seeing (American readers can substitute a Commodore Vic-20 – as it was equally poopy). Most importantly, let’s not forget that the filming of the alien battlefield took place in a quarry somewhere in Hertfordshire. A location that had previously made appearances in episodes that starred Jon Pertwee and a ‘certain number’ of other Doctors, as well as a later story which involved more than a few Cybermen and an exploding space freighter. I don’t know about you, but linking a quarry with any of the ‘classic’ Doctor Who stories just makes me happy. I feel a warm glow and the urge to loudly cheer whenever I see a quarry on screen. Admittedly, this has been the cause of one or two problems in my private life. I am now tagged online as the Gregg Wallace of quarries. The restraining order means that I can’t be within a two-mile radius of any of the quarries that have recently made the complaints about me. But I still maintain that the whole thing has been blown out of proportion and that quarries are the very best of all filming locations. It might be too late for George Lucas, seeing as he sold up and now seems to spend all of his time just counting his money, but Disney still has the chance to take note. You don’t need Finland when you’ve got a quarry!

The battle does have a rather ‘arty’ shot of Gavrok and his Bannermen standing on a ridge, firing shots down on the Chimerons, as their silhouettes are briefly framed against an alien sky. The image puts me in mind of something that you might see in the foreign language epic Ran, a film that was made by the legendary Japanese film director, Akira Kurosawa. Sorry, I’ve just read that back and made myself howl with laughter. Pretentious? Moi? In my entire life, I’ve never even watched a Kurosawa movie. But I made the association after going into the realms of Google and seeing some photos where the soldiers from the Ran film had what looked to be some type of flag attached to poles that ran along their backs. Good God! I’ve just this second realised about this being the stupidly obvious reason that they’re called Bannermen in the story. My head is now lowered in embarrassment, while my face remains buried deep in my palm. After some reflection, I think it’s more honest to say that my initial thoughts about the ‘arty’ shot were actually inspired by spending more than a few hours in the company of the Total War Shogun game that I used to play on my old computer. And as for Ran, my sincere apologies for all the tosh and piddle, looking at my notes, I now see that I’d originally written it as Akira Kurosawa’s ‘Gran’ – which would, in truth, be a film that sits more easily with my viewing habits. In my opinion, anything that features an old lady kicking more ‘bumty’ than the Seven Samurai is definitely worth the price of admission to the cinema. Lone Wolf and Cub? How about Old Lady and Zimmer?

I think it’s best we get back to Doctor Who.

After helping herself to one of Gavrok’s spaceships, Queen Delta manages to make a last-minute escape from the planet. She then finds herself on a heading that will take her towards toll port G715. Coincidentally, the Seventh Doctor and Mel have just arrived at the port in the TARDIS. For some reason, that’s far from clear; they are both feeling an ominous sense of foreboding as they look around. Then they hear the voice of Ken Dodd. At this point, most people would have run for the hills, before the unspeakable horror of being forced to endure a six-hour performance of one of his stand-up comedy routines, but for some reason Ken — or should I say the Tollmaster? — is soon able to put them at their ease. It turns out that the Doctor and Mel are the ten billionth customers to arrive at the toll port, and as such, they have won Nostalgia Tours’ star prize – two seats for a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Disneyland in the ‘rock and roll’ year of 1959. Unfortunately, when it comes to this type of interplanetary holiday, Nostalgia Tours have the same type of dodgy reputation as easyJet. On this occasion, the cheap and cheerful holiday is being organised for a music-loving race known as the Navarinos. Hold on! I think I’ve got one of these. Give me a minute. There it is! Hiding amongst all the other Eaglemoss stuff that I have on my table. It basically looks like a turd with two legs. Murray, the friendly and soon-to-be-introduced driver of the tour bus, is a Navarino. We briefly see him in this original form before he goes through a transformation arch that makes him look human.

And that’s it?

Yeah, we don’t see another Navarino, at least in this turdy state, in any of the adventure that follows. By my reckoning, it’s on screen for fewer than twenty seconds and yet, it still gets a bloody figurine! Which, more worryingly, I was stupid enough to pay for! Eaglemoss should hang their collective heads in shame. Oh, I’ve just remembered, the company went into administration.

Probably because they didn’t sell enough Navarinos!

Despite having a newly fitted Hellstorm chassis and engine, the space cruiser that is being used for the tour doesn’t look particularly reliable. In order to blend in with the earth of the 1950s, and as a means of saving some of the meagre budget that kept Doctor Who on our screens, it has been given the appearance of an ordinary coach from the era. Nevertheless, this doesn’t put off the ever-keen Mel, who jumps at the chance of a holiday at Disneyland. Meanwhile, in an effort to throw the still pursuing Gavrok off her tracks, Delta makes an emergency landing and quickly heads towards the disguised space cruiser. She’s not even asked to show her ticket as she rushes on board and helps herself to a seat. Which pretty much sums up the nerve of the youth of today! I tell you, there’s not one jot of respect for anything! Even if they are aliens! They’re always getting away with murder! They should bring back National Service! For Chimerons! Not that they’re actually from this nation. Or for that matter, this planet. But you get the point! Anyway, the now fully boarded space coach departs from toll port G715 with Mel and the turds having a good old sing song, while the Doctor follows them in his TARDIS.

As this is going on, we are introduced to Hawk and Weismuller, who are undoubtedly the oldest American C.I.A. agents that you are ever likely to see. If they’d been tasked with running alongside the motorcade of the then-serving President, Dwight D. Eisenhower, I have no doubt that they would have used mobility scooters. The two agents have come to Wales in order to track down one of the orbiting satellites that’s been launched from their country. Other than that, I can see absolutely no reason for them being included in the story. Something to do with the Cold War, perhaps? A misjudged attempt at light relief? Or just to generally irritate the pish out of me by their presence?

As it goes, the space coach containing Mel and the Navarinos ends up colliding with the satellite. They are thrown off course and find themselves in serious danger of crashing, but the Doctor is on hand in the TARDIS to help them land safely. Ah, when I say “land safely”, I’m using the term loosely because they end up in Wales, which in itself is no bad thing, because Wales is a perfectly nice place where people have the souls of poets and a great, almost to the point of illegality, love of sheep. Nevertheless, while all of this is very nice, crashing down to Earth might still be preferable to the terrors that await Mel and the other passengers at the Shangri-La holiday camp. Burton, the ever-so-friendly director of the camp, mistakes them for new arrivals and immediately shows the group to their accommodation before they have the chance to tell him otherwise.

When it comes to locations, this has to be one of the grimmest places that I’ve ever seen. Even with the benefit of being dressed by the dedicated set designers that always helped to make Doctor Who look better than the budget deserved, the Shangri-La is about as dour and depressing as the sets that are used for prisoner of war movies. At certain points, as the Doctor went about the business of righting wrongs in the camp, I expected to see the long-since deceased Steve McQueen, attempting to make a Great Escape. In my mind, I could see his motorbike roaring between the shower blocks, and him ducking his head under washing lines, before getting up to full speed and going for an impossible jump that takes him over the Shangri-La’s barbed wire. But Steve never quite makes it, does he? No matter how many times you watch the film, he always ends up being trapped and unable to get away. I suspect that the same feelings would have been shared by the countless souls who spent what there was of their holidays in such places.

And the irony?

The Shangri-La was in reality a Butlin’s holiday camp that was located on Barry Island. Gary Downie, the production manager at the time of filming, had found the location of the closed and now empty camp after undertaking a recce in Wales. Both the exterior and interior shots, in other words, i.e. what you see on screen, are little time capsules of a holiday camp from the mid-1960s. There’s no denying that it’s a place that clearly made lots of families very happy over the years, but I think you need to thank whoever is your god for cheap flights and the opportunity of going somewhere else. As far as I’m concerned, places like the Shangri-La are little better than the planet of Telos. They are equally dead, dusty, and full of nightmares. I know this for a fact, for I too, have seen the horror. So, learn from my folly and take heed! Stand firm and shy away from the sight of a bunch of Cybermen bursting from the ‘tomb’ of their chalets each morning, with their fags lit and beers already opened. Avoid the booming cyber arguments and lumbering stomps that come through paper-thin walls and ceilings. And take care to not step in the pee or puke that has been deposited by feral Cybermats in the night. Telos might be cheap, but save yourself, and some of your money, or just put it all on a credit card and pay a few more quid for something nice. Most of all, learn from what you see of the Shangri-La and be really careful with the choice of your next holiday destination.

As the passengers disembark and make their way to the accommodation, it becomes clear that the space coach has taken on some damage from the satellite. The crystal in the ‘navipod’ has been broken, but this isn’t a problem, because the Doctor is carrying a spare in his TARDIS. At this point, we are introduced to Billy, the local mechanic, who sets about working on the engine without so much as a question or even the briefest pause about the fact that he’s seeing completely new, alien technology that has come from another galaxy. I imagine he’s just too dishy to be worried about such things or at least far too stupid for the thought, or for that matter, any thought to find its way into his mind. The Doctor soon returns with the replacement part for the coach, which he hands over to the Navarino pilot, Murray, who promptly ends up breaking the crystal as he attempts the repair. Well, he is a bit of a turd, isn’t he? By this time, Rachel or as she prefers to be called Ray, arrives on her moped. Being something of a tom boy, considering that this was the 1950s, she already knows a fair bit about mechanics and just so happens to have a full set of socket wrenches upon her person at all times. It’s obvious that Billy is the subject of Ray’s affections. She is desperately in love with the dishy mechanic and will do just about anything to impress him. But the ‘player’ that is our Billy will soon her break her heart when his eyes and terrible crooning are directed towards someone else.

The episode ends with the fallout that comes from the ‘getting to know you’ dance that the camp director — which is the title of the position that Burton holds at the Shangri-La and not a life choice — has organised as part of the evening entertainment. Things seem to be going with a swing, with Mel and the Navarinos all having a knees-up on the dancefloor. Billy has put his overalls away for the night and is now the frontman of the band. While singing from the stage, Billy dedicates his next song to a very special lady in the audience. As he launches into a reasonably atrocious rendition of ‘Why do fools fall in love,’ Ray quickly realises that Billy is singing the song in the hope of igniting a romance with… Delta. The Doctor is suspicious of the alien queen, so he follows her when she leaves the dance, but he is then interrupted by the sound of crying from a nearby laundry store. The Time Lord finds Ray in a flood of tears because she is upset about the way that Billy has treated her. As the Doctor tries to offer her some words of comfort, they are disturbed and forced into hiding by the arrival of an intergalactic bounty hunter. No, I’m not making it up. From their hiding place, the Doctor and Ray then overhear the hunter, who goes by the name of Keillor, sending Gavrok details of the location where Delta can be found. I’m not sure what the most surprising thing is here. The fact that Keillor just happens to be on holiday at the Shangri-La – though I suppose he could be tracking Delta – or that he’s being played by Brian Hibbard, who was primarily known for being a member of the a cappella vocal group, The Flying Pickets. For those of you who don’t have a clue about this, Brian and the rest of the Pickets had a massive Christmas number one record in UK charts at the end of 1983. It would consequently appear that Brian decided to move into acting, though I think all of the Pickets were actors in the first place.

Anyway, back to the tale at hand. The Doctor sneezes, giving his and Ray’s position away to Keillor, who raises his gun and is about to fire, before he stops to sing a few verses of the hit single ‘Only you’ to the terrified couple. Oh yes, before I forget, as all of this is happening, Mel and Delta are having a friendly chat in their chalet. The two women are getting on just fine, when the plastic lunch box that Delta has been carrying opens to reveal a large silver ball. When the silver ball cracks open, Mel unleashes a scream that sounds like fingers being scrapped down a chalkboard, and the green slimy head of an alien baby is revealed. This was later confirmed as being the first recorded footage of the American rapper, Kanye West, appearing on screen.

And that’s just one episode, folks!

I think that I need to get my head down for a few minutes and breathe deeply into a paper bag. What in heaven’s name have I watched? For the first time in my life, I actually want Mrs Flood to appear and break the fourth wall, as opposed to her scrawny neck, and make a reassuring declaration along the lines of:

“It’s all a bit confusing, my dear, isn’t it!”

There’s no denying that Season 24 was different to what had gone before. Watching the episodes for this revisit really brings back all the memories about how much I hated Delta and the Bannermen. I firmly believed that the adventure was little more than a silly bit of rubbish that wasn’t worth my time. It also seemed to me that the Seventh Doctor was just a nice fool who had little in the way of any authority. I despised his companion, who I found as bland as eating a cracker that was made from cardboard, and I couldn’t really connect with the plot, which was disjointed and completely lacking in any real tension or threat. In summary, I felt that the whole thing was a bloody mess and that it simply ‘wasn’t my show’ anymore.

Does any this sound familiar? Perhaps even, in some ways, recent?

There are more than a few comparisons that can be made between the era of John Nathan-Turner’s stewardship and the last two seasons that have been produced by Russell T Davies. Let’s take the pace at which the stories are told. In the case of Delta and the Bannermen, the first episode moves towards a conclusion as if it’s the Millennium Falcon on the Kessel Run. It has a total running time of twenty-five minutes, in which it tries to introduce us to a grand total of 10 new characters:

• Gavrok
• Delta
• Doddy’s Tollmaster
• Murray
• Hawk
• Weismuller
• Burton
• Billy
• Ray
• Keillor

Jesus! No, he’s not in it, but adding him in with the disciples wouldn’t have made much of a difference. And let’s not ignore the small matter of giving the Doctor and Mel a few meaningful interactions on screen. It’s an absolutely bonkers way of telling a story that rushes through the dialogue and plot as quickly as the one-page comic strips that I used to read in a copy of the Beano.

In the more recent times, Peter Davison has been one of the few Doctor Who alumni to speak out on the rapid storytelling of the current era. Like him, I feel that there are not enough moments when anything is given the chance to breathe. This might be a result of the show reinventing itself and making a ‘bold’ attempt to set out its stall for a new generation and demographic. Something, which I suspect, was the same remit for JN-T back in the late 1980s. But when you throw the baby out with the bathwater, and then add the bath, along with the house and the street where it all takes place, you’re not really building on the good or the great of what has gone before. It now seems that pace and spectacle have become much more important than heart or a well-written structure. As a result, the audience is often baffled and increasingly unmoved by what they’ve seen. You can’t deny that the show has bundles of energy, but there’s little in the way of any direction. There are occasions when entire plots have been introduced and then concluded with a deliberate lack of explanation. We are often required to accept what amounts to a wave of Harry Potter’s magic wand as the solution to all of our questions. If I might be allowed a moment to get on my high horse (though in my case it’s more likely to be a pony), I never signed up for Doctor Who becoming a fairy tale fantasy. I dislike the change intensely, but I also have to acknowledge that nostalgia is an enemy that holds a gun to your head and then resolutely stops you from moving on. In whatever future awaits, I accept that the show needs to take risks and experiment if it’s going to survive. Even if that means failure and my refusal to watch a DVD for God knows how many years.

Another obvious comparison is the showrunners themselves. I’ve already tried to allude to the ‘my way or the highway’ approach that both men had in getting their vision of Doctor Who on screen. I have very little idea about the pressures that they faced, which must have been immense, and I can see that there must have been occasions when a blinkered approach would be the only way of getting the job done. With so many voices, from within the production itself and from our good selves in the world of fandom, there must surely be a time when both men had to blot out the noise and trust their own instincts. Anyone who is brave enough to make those decisions and then face the wave of attacks that follow deserves some praise for their efforts. We might not agree with the course they have chosen or the decisions that apparently tarnish our own unique views of Doctor Who, but the overriding fact, which is sometimes lost in a red mist of outrage and indignation, is that we all share a great love for the programme. Russell T Davies has been a fan since childhood. It must have been an amazing feeling for him to bring the show back so successfully while receiving almost universal acclaim. I’d like to thank him for the wonderful start and all of the years that followed. The state of things, as they are now, must hurt him deeply. No matter how thick his skin might be or how insulated he is with the like-minded people who still maintain that the Fifteenth Doctor’s reign has been a triumph, there must be a realisation of things not quite hitting the mark and that the programme has fallen a long way short of the success that he achieved in his first tenure as producer.

In many ways, I think the same can be said of John Nathan-Turner. He doesn’t always get the credit he deserves for keeping the show alive when the BBC was happy to see it fold and disappear from our lives. On a fraction of the budget that we see today, with an occasional blip here and there, he commissioned and worked on many of the stories that we now regard as classics. What he achieved, just in this instance, should be regarded as a minor miracle in itself. Nathan-Turner was a flamboyant showman, just like Davies, who always put himself front and centre in the promotion of each new season. He fell into the role of producer after working his way through the ranks of the Doctor Who production team. It was a position which he loved and sometimes hated in equal measure. If you should ever get the chance to listen to The John Nathan-Turner Memoirs that Big Finish produced a number of years ago [2000], you can hear the man himself describe how he came to feel trapped in the role but carried on doing the job because he feared that the production of the show would cease if he walked away. There is also a moment, right at the end of this memoir, when Nathan-Turner adds his thoughts about the future of Doctor Who. He knows that the programme will return after the hiatus that followed his time as the producer, but admits, with a voice that suddenly cracks with emotion, that things have moved on and that his involvement is no longer required. It’s a genuinely heartbreaking listen, which only serves to make clear how much he cared about the show. Whatever you might say about their flaws or the mistakes that were made during their time at the helm, John Nathan-Turner and Russell T Davies both shared a deep passion and an unquestionable amount of dedication. No one has worked harder than either of these men to make Doctor Who a success. So, perhaps it’s time to take a breath and forgive any errors. Let’s just enjoy the many things that went right and applaud their efforts.

With all that said, it’s only right that I find a little room for some forgiveness when it comes to Delta and the Bannermen. Before this point, I had considered writing a few white lies that would ease my conscience and make this ‘revisit’ more positive. Fortunately, the Season 24 Collection and its inclusion of the much-improved extended episodes are on hand to come to my rescue. On a technical level, the sound of the Blu-ray is so much better than the DVD. It has been enhanced, like the picture, but goes to another level with the good old ‘surround’ bobbins that helps to really enhance what you’re watching. The new edit of the first episode adds scenes that clear up some of the confusion caused by their omission. We now have a scene in the TARDIS, with the Doctor and Mel, that sets up their landing at toll port G715. There are a several smaller additions, which come in the form of a few snippets of exposition that serve to flesh out the plot a little more. You get a brief glimpse of Delta in the cockpit of the ship that she is using to make her escape which gives you a reason for her ending up at the toll port. Then there’s a small bit of dialogue where Billy tells the Doctor that Ray is like a sister to him. These small changes to the edit are not particularly life-changing — they don’t suddenly elevate the adventure to being a classic — but they help to smooth over the disjointed nature of the episode that was originally broadcast.

Best of all, in the extended episode you get to see Ken Dodd being given the chance to perform as nature intended. His role as the Tollmaster was a typical bit of stunt casting that JN-T often employed as a means of getting some free publicity from the press. In his performance, there are times when Ken looks uncomfortable and far from his comfort zone. As part of my ‘watchalong’ for this piece, I saw an interview with Sylvester McCoy, who confirmed this notion by saying that he felt sorry for Dodd, who was given little in the way of any direction for the role. McCoy was tempted to offer some advice to the other man, who he greatly respected as a performer and comedian, but eventually held himself back from taking the step because he didn’t want the older and more experienced man to think that he was some kind of condescending know-it-all. On screen, Ken is lumbered with wearing a traditional ticket inspector costume, which gives the impression that it has been left with a bunch of unsupervised five-year-olds, their Pritt Sticks, and an inordinate amount of glitter. In the extended episode, we get a lovely moment when Ken gets to have a brief chat with the passengers as they are boarding the Space Coach:

“Is that your husband or have you brought your bulldog with you?”

I have no doubt that he would have had a different quip for every single passenger that passed his way. If the script had focussed on his well-honed comedy routines, I’m sure that we would have seen a much more relaxed and enjoyable performance from a man who was undoubtedly a master of his craft.

Overall, I’d say that the extended editions are the way to go, if you just want to sit down and watch the adventure in its best possible form. There’s still, regrettably (at least for my tastes), the problem of several more appearances from Melanie Bush. She goes double denim in the next episode. But I’ve heard, from reliable sources, that any future releases will include an edit where she has been completely removed from the programme. I can’t help but count the days to that moment.

The second episode starts off with the demise of Keillor. After receiving the details of Delta’s location, Gavrok has no intention of paying the bounty hunter his fee. The old villain sends some kind of transmission to Keillor’s communicator, which instantly turns the now Dying Picket into a puff of smoke. The Doctor and Ray are shocked to see his empty blue suede shoes, but this gives them the chance they need to escape. Back in Mel’s chalet, lovestruck Billy arrives with a bunch of wooing flowers, just as the green baby from an episode of V is setting about her first round of bawling. He’s too dishy to be bothered about any of this and is also probably relieved that any DNA test will prove that he’s not the father. After a bit of a chat with Delta, the mechanic suggests that they take the rapidly growing green baby and go for a ride on his Vincent Motorcycle and sidecar. Well, you would, wouldn’t you! Can I just say, at this point, when it comes to Billy’s courting of Delta, I haven’t see anyone pursue the object of their desire with more lust or single-minded stubbornness. Other than the Fifteenth Doctor trying to rent a space in Rogue’s Georgian breeches, there has surely not been a better example of a whirlwind romance in the entire history of Doctor Who.

Ah, then there’s Jo Grant and Clifford Jones, plus the still crushing unfairness of Leela ending up with that wimp Andred. If only she’d met me first on Gallifrey. It could have been different! I’m quite funny when you get to know me. My mum says that I’m something of a catch. And us chubsters are very cuddly. It’s so unfair! Andred, the snivelling little git, had locked me in the Chancellery toilet. No one noticed for three days! Not even mum! I wasn’t given the chance! And then Leela ends up choosing him! Why? In the name of heaven! Why?

As Billy, Delta, and baby Grogu go off for a ride in the country, the Doctor realises that the alien queen will soon be in danger from the fast-approaching Gavrok and his Bannerman. The Time Lord sets off with Ray on her moped to find Delta. I can only compliment Sylvester McCoy for the way he always throws himself into motorbike rides, all manner of pratfalls, and walking in the vicinity of large explosions. You can forget Tom Cruise doing his own stunts: McCoy is definitely the real deal. He gamely rides pillion to Ray, through some rather lovely Welsh locations, while being accompanied by a soundtrack that wouldn’t be out of place on one of those chase scenes from The Benny Hill Show. As the Doctor and Ray continue their search for Delta, revving their way through the green valleys, we are also treated to a few snippets of the Dick Barton Special Agent theme tune that was used on the radio. I’m guessing this was for some extra dramatic effect, but my word, even back then in the eighties, it doesn’t half sound delightfully dated.

Gavrok and the Bannermen’s fleet arrive in Wales. (Is it still a fleet if there’s only one spaceship?) They capture Hawk and Weismuller, who are, by sheer coincidence, camping near their landing site. After a few questions but sadly no violence towards the two agents, Gavrok and his men are soon off to the Shangri-La. The Doctor has already convinced the initially sceptical Burton to clear the camp of its visitors, leaving just the Navarinos. They are just about to set off when the Bannermen arrive and open fire. The unlucky turds are sent to meet their maker and double denim Mel gives Gavrok a strongly worded piece of her mind.

She’s very, very cross!

By this time, the Doctor has found Delta and is trying to find a to get her safely off the planet. We get a few more scenes of them all riding on the motorcycles. Quite a few, actually. They end up at a house that belongs to Goronwy, who, interestingly enough, keeps bees. Don’t question me, just go with it! The Doctor then sets off, on the motorbike again, in order to rescue Mel and Burton from Gavrok’s clutches.

I have to say that I’ve really enjoyed Don Henderson’s performance as the baddy of the piece. He has a voice that sounds as if he’s been gargling with gravel and a painfully direct approach to villainy that has my full approval. In the confrontation between Gavrok and the Doctor that comes at the end of the episode, Don asked if he could add to the character’s air of menace by chewing on a piece of raw meat. This is quite a sight to behold! I can’t really make out what he’s eating, but if you slow down the footage it looks like it might be a pig’s shoulder. The whole shoulder! Don looks to be enjoying it though. Perhaps even, a bit too much. Apparently, he always had a bag of raw meat on set. He carried it everywhere and never failed to keep the package close. A few members of the cast even said that there were occasions when they had overheard Don having an argument with the contents of the ever-present bag. This was about the time that a few animals went missing in the area. There was gossip, of course, but nothing was ever proved — just a bunch of rumours. So, I suppose it’s best left in the past. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it in the first place. As the Doctor says at the end of the episode, when he’s attempting to rescue Mel and Burton: “Actually, I think I may have gone too far…”

This might be a good moment to explain my perfectly unreasonable hatred of Melanie Bush. When I heard that Bonnie Langford was making a comeback in the freshly revamped seasons of Doctor Who, I took the news with a relative amount of calm. Enough time had passed to dampen my once fiery thoughts on the matter and Bonnie had put in some very good performances on the Big Finish audios. You see, I have absolutely no issues with Bonnie. She’s great! But the sight of Melanie, standing there in the flesh as part of the new series, is enough to bring back all the old feelings and a scowl that I can hardly suppress. If you can imagine a man who has had the misfortune of pushing his finger through the toilet paper, you have what amounts to be the perfect mirror image of my face whenever the character of Melanie Bush appears on screen. And what is it that makes me feel this way? The blame partly lies with the television work that Bonnie Langford had taken on in her earliest days. There was a children’s programme in the late 1970s called Just William. The show centred on the various scrapes and japes of the aforementioned naughty schoolboy. It was perfect fodder for other little schoolboys, like me, who wanted to perfect their own brands of disobedience and then lead some form of rebellion against the tyranny of their mums. But there was a problem. Bonnie Langford played the role of Violet, who was William’s rather posh and haughty nemesis. She had a catchphrase which went along the lines of, “I shall scream and scream and scream until I’m sick! And I can!”

As far as I was concerned, Violet was the ribbon wearing personification of evil. I regarded her as a high-pitched blight upon humanity who always tried to ruin the fun for naughty boys. I can only suppose that my later feelings about anything Bonnie-related became tainted by this. I’ve just ended up transferring the hate from Violet to Mel and I’m still unable to break the habit. Whatever scene I watch Bonnie in, whether it’s from the 1980s Trial of a Time Lord or as part of the gang who now runs UNIT HQ in the 2020s, I only have to look at her for a few seconds and all I can see is a precocious little brat with a mane of ginger ringlets that could easily find a home on Simba’s head. I know that these feelings aren’t warranted. Miss Langford is a very talented performer who has done nothing to deserve my negativity. But it’s still there, nonetheless.

As they say in many a ‘break up’ up note, ‘Sorry Bonnie; it’s not you, it’s me.’

Then again, she also has by far the worst scream of any companion in the history of the show. I’d rather run a cheese grater over my ears than listen to her particularly high-pitched shriek. I challenge you to name another companion who is better at perforating your eardrums. And before any of you start to attribute my dislike of Melanie Langford, or if you prefer Bonnie Bush, and explain away my feelings as being ‘gingerist,’ please let me take this opportunity to make it clear that I completely endorse and support all forms of inclusion within Doctor Who.

After many years of watching, I have recently come to the conclusion that there has only been a token amount of ginger representation within the show. Off the top of my head, when it comes to ticking that particular box, I can only think of Turlough, Mel, Amy Pond, and Donna. I went to the land of Google to see if there was anyone else and there was a suggestion that Jamie McCrimmon and Leela were also part of the same club, but I wouldn’t class them as being full-on ginger. Either way, that’s not a very long list for over 60 years of Doctor Who! I’m sure you’ll agree that more needs to be done. In the last two seasons, with all the additional Disney money for special effects and hair dye, RTD had a wonderful opportunity to tip this balance onto a much more enlightened and inclusive path…

The new Davros, for instance, didn’t need to be up and about on two legs. He could have just stayed in his chair while sporting a full head of ginger curls.

You could also change the apparently offensive term of ‘Celestial’ and replace it with the intriguing, ’The Ginger Toymaker’.

The reimagined version of Rose could have been transitioning into ginger. This would surely have gained the same amount of publicity while still being a controversial choice amongst the fans. There would also have been a chance that the ginger might have been able to act.

If Sutekh really needed to come back as a CGI doggy – why not make his fur ginger?

And if the decision had been made to allow Omega to keep his original costume from The Three Doctors… how about opening that oversized mask and revealing an empty void that comes with a hue of ginger?

That’s a lot of wasted opportunities, Mr Davies! You could have made a real difference to the 6% of ginger-haired people that currently roam these lands. But the chance was missed! And now it’s gone forever. You should take a long look at yourself in the mirror.

As Delta and the Bannermen reaches its final act, things are really starting to heat up. In the face-to-face confrontation between the Doctor and Gavrok, we get a really nice example of the angry little speeches that the seventh incarnation often launched at his enemies:

“Give me Delta… and I will give you… your life.”

“Life. What do you know about life, Gavrok! You deal in death! Lies, treachery, murder are your currency. You promise life, but in the end, it will be life that defeats you!”

Admittedly, there’s not too much to go on here, just a glimpse at best, but we do get to see some positive signs of how Sylvester McCoy is going to develop his portrayal of the Doctor over the next two seasons. It’s also important to note, for those of you who enjoy a random fact, that this was the story where the Seventh Doctor’s iconic question mark umbrella made its first appearance. For his part in the scene, Don Henderson plays Gavrok with a quietly understated menace. The only thing that’s arch about his performance are the tips of his eyebrows, which have both been twisted into points. They are not ‘attack’ eyebrows, if an image of Peter Capaldi has suddenly come into your mind; I’d be more inclined to say they’re eyebrows of the ‘evil’ variety. But I’m not entirely sure about that point, so you’d be better off asking them yourself.

Gavrok allows the Doctor to escape with Mel and Burton, and we get more scenes with the Vincent Motorcycle and sidecar. I can’t get over how young Sylvester McCoy looks as he rides the bike and sends it whizzing through the Welsh countryside. If you look closely during these scenes, there are a couple of occasions in the long shots where Sylvester’s glasses appear and then quickly disappear. There’s also a brief shot of Bonnie Langford squealing with delight, after the bike flies over a hill and then lands with an unexpected bump. It’s clear that the cast were all willing to muck in and go above and beyond their roles in the production. The sense of fun and the almost boundless energy that they put into their performances, are by a considerable way the best thing about the adventure.

While the Doctor is on his way back to the house of the bee keeping Goronwy, the oldest serving agents on the books of the C.I.A. have got themselves into something of a pickle. Hawk and Weismuller have been taken prisoner by the Bannermen. They are subsequently locked into the strangest type of neck bondage gear that I have ever seen. This comes after an earlier interlude when they’re bickering as their silhouettes move behind the canvas of their tent at night, which had me instantly giggling like a child, because I couldn’t get Brokeback Mountain out of my mind. Fortunately, the two Bannermen guards who’ve been watching over the C.I.A. buddies go off to intercept and put a tracker on the Doctor. It seems that Gavrok planned this all along, as a means of finally being led to the alien queen. Out of nowhere, Ray arrives on her moped. She releases Hawk and Weismuller from their very brief captivity, thanks to the Allen Key that just so happens to be lurking in her pocket. I can’t help but like Ray and I think that Sara Griffiths does a really good job in the role. She comes across as being a ‘no fuss or nonsense’ type of character, but there’s not really that much to her, other than the fact that she’s wide-eyed and Welsh. At one point during the production, Ray was being considered as a replacement for Mel. And while I thoroughly approve of anything that removes Mel from my sight, I believe that the choice of the soon-to-be-wonderful Ace, as the next companion to hop aboard the TARDIS, was a far better fit for the Seventh Doctor.

Back at Goronwy’s house, the beekeeper is busy giving ‘Billy the Dish’ a lesson about the properties of royal jelly. Apparently, if you administer a small dose to an ordinary worker bee, there’s a very strong chance that it will change the insect into a queen. Billy then puts two and two together and makes five. He consumes the concoction that Delta has used to feed the baby in the hope of being changed into a Chimeron. Incidentally, by this time, the baby has progressed through childhood and is now a woman in her forties who has embarked on a somewhat disappointing career as a high school geography teacher. Or at least, something along those lines.

The Doctor and what appears to be pretty much the entire cast are now gathered at the beekeeper’s lodgings — little knowing that they have been followed by the two Bannermen who fired a tracking device onto the Doctor’s motorbike. These Bannermen try to launch a surprise attack on Delta, but they are foiled by a warning cry from the 40-year-old geography girl, which sends them into painful spasms. For a time, it appears that the danger has passed, but Gavrok and the rest of the Bannermen have already set off and are on their way. Using a combination of Goronwy’s bees and 10,000 jars of stored honey, the Doctor sets a trap for the fast-approaching enemy. He then orders an Uber for himself and the rest of his friends, and they head back to the Shangri-La. After landing his spaceship, Gavrok heads to the now-empty house, which they proceed to attack. Thinking that Delta has taken refuge somewhere in the gaff, they storm into a storage room and then fall into the Doctor’s trap. The waiting shelves, which are so fragile that they wobble about when even a mouse breathes upon them, collapse upon the villains. Gavrok and his men are covered in honey from the falling jars. They end up being swarmed by the angry bees that have come from Goronwy’s hives. After arriving back at the holiday camp, the Doctor attempts to find safety for himself and the others within the walls of his TARDIS, but he is stopped by a trap of the booby variety which Gavrok has placed upon the time machine. With no other options available, the Time Lord and Billy set up a sound system on top of one of the Shangri-La’s buildings. They hope that playing the ear-piercing dirge of Coldplay’s latest album will be enough to send the badly stung Bannermen packing. When the speaker is destroyed, the alien princess/geography teacher saves the day by letting out one of her amplified screams. Much like listening to Coldplay, this unholy noise sends the Bannermen into fits of pain and anguish, which swiftly brings their attack to an end. As his men continue to writhe in agony, Gavrok is so traumatised by the first few bars of Clocks that he falls into his own trap and is killed.

Hooray for soft contemporary rock with a social message and an uplifting chorus!

Sometime later, the Doctor and his friends all gather to say goodbye. Billy is now well on the way to becoming a fully-fledged member of the Chimeron race. He prepares to leave with Delta and the princess on Gavrok’s spaceship, little-knowing that the females of his newly acquired species are inclined to kill and eat the males. Actually, that’s not in any way true, but you can hope, can’t you? As a parting gift, Billy decides to give his Vincent bike to Ray, and they both promptly ride off into their separate futures. If you ask me, Ray’s well shot of him! The Doctor and Mel bid their farewells to Burton, Hawk, and Weismuller. Then, as the TARDIS dematerialises, Goronwy makes a point of turning towards the camera and winking at the audience.

Yes, you’ve guessed it, he’s actually an incarnation of the Rani, breaking the fourth wall, just like the Flood woman. I won’t go into it now, but the clues are all there: you just need to play all of these episodes backwards and drink a litre of gin.

So, what do I really think about Delta and the Bannermen? Well, to be fair it’s not great, but that’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of fluff! And if nothing else, when it comes to nostalgia, I must admit to being a complete addict. So, all’s pretty much well and good. There are also signs, if you squint and look really closely at the adventure, of the improvements that will come in Sylvester McCoy’s next two seasons. Andrew Cartmel, the Script Editor of this era, will make the Seventh Doctor into a darker and more mysterious character who often manipulates those around him. Ace is going to arrive with her Nitro-9. And we’re going to be treated to stories like Remembrance of the Daleks, The Greatest Show in the Galaxy, Battlefield, and The Curse of Fenric.

And yet, as I think back, hating Delta as much as I did at the time, I came really close to switching off and walking away from all things Doctor Who. I’ve felt much the same recently! The two eras, whether it was McCoy’s first season or the last two that I’ve endured of the Fifteenth Doctor, have really dented my love for the programme. But when you’ve cared about something for so long, it’s hard to cut all ties. I can’t. And to be honest, I’m still glad that I’ve stayed and kept the faith. At the moment, the love is a little dimmer than it was before. I’ll own up and say that my long-time companion and I are currently estranged. But it’s only a trial separation. We just need to give it some time, have a bit of counselling on the matter, and wait for things to ‘get good’ again. I hope that you all feel the same way. If you’ve read this far, you’ve already shown your devotion. I’m now off to put my Navarino model on eBay. I’ve been told that the turds are some of the most sought-after figurines that you can buy; collectors apparently fight over them and push their prices up to astronomical amounts, so there’s a really good chance that I’m about to make my fortune.