The Androids of Tara | Sophisticated Idiots

Sometimes we all need a break.

The Key to Time season may not have got out of second gear yet – but after three entries in which the only people to break a sweat are two OAP actors stealing their respective shows, the audience is somehow deemed in need of some R&R.

Naturally, Tom Baker takes the lead. Thoroughly disinterested in the whole Key-hunting shenanigans, he instead opts to go fishing and have a riverside nap.

Ever the star, mind, he still manages to deliver the best moment of this oddball of a story, even from a horizontal position.

The Androids of Tara is a little over seven minutes old when the Doc gifts us the immortal, “Would you mind removing your foot from my chest? My hat is on fire.”

And from this classic utterance until the serial wraps with our Time Lord guffawing at K9 adrift on his boat, the tongue doesn’t leave the cheek for a moment.

Now, we’re all for playful stories to serve as a light-hearted aside. And The Androids of Tara has ‘jolly ditty’ written all over it.

See?

Indeed, there are some absolute zinger examples of silly serials among the Fourth Doctor’s own Greatest Hits collection.

But where the likes of Creature from the Pit or Meglos (or even the recent Key entry Pirate Planet) are delivered with abundant absurdity, they also bristle with a zippy energy.

Sadly, The Androids of Tara enjoys no such momentum.

Pacing can be everything. This one's up against it from the off by being conceived as light relief in a season that’s yet to get going anyway. At this stage of the Key to Time arc, the last thing we need is to calm things down.

So Tom’s aforementioned laidback approach (literally) sets a tone from which Androids of Tara never recovers. As soon as the Great One has orated the story’s throat-based high point, it’s all downhill.

Incredibly slowly, too. The meandering descent of this serial’s trajectory makes K9’s wall-cutting skills look positively rocket-fuelled.

Before we start on one of our whinge-fests, it should be stressed that there’s nothing particularly disagreeable about this mid-season filler.

If you’re on board for quirky historicals with gentle stakes, then pull on your purple tunic and straighten your Ascot hat because this is the story for you.

But for us, we reckon that struggling to find a main image for this review ain’t exactly a sign that we’re dealing with a top-tier Tom tale.

Frankly, there's scant enough plot to warrant a four-parter and two fools vying for a crown hardly gets our circuitry fizzing.

So when we’re dragged from one laborious set-piece to another, we’re tempted to sack the whole thing off and join K9 for some larks on the water.

We don’t think we’re being unduly unkind to The Androids of Tara by taking a moment to tally up / fabricate how much repetition is embroidered into its tapestry (presumably by an imprisoned princess without a care in the world) as it desperately tries to fill the allotted airtime:

4 By our reckoning, Romana is captured four times. And the stakes manage to get lower each time.

3 There are at least three scenes featuring abundant banquets.

8 The audience is treated to eight close-ups of the villain of the piece looking dastardly. He may as well twirl his moustache.

And... we bring you the most damning metric of all, one so compelling we actually bothered fact-checking it:

This story's climax is consumed by a swordfight that lasts for NINE MINUTES AND FORTY-EIGHT SECONDS.

Even worse, this fatberg of a set-piece labours on without a single note of a score for the first three sodding minutes.

Now, we’re all for arty silence – if it’s earned. But we can all agree that Tom Cruise's sweaty M:I Langley break-in this most certainly is not.

But the real poison in the tankard is that at the end of all this playing for time, we don’t even get the satisfaction of the villain being offed. Count Grendel is allowed to swim – poorly and, ever on-message, slowly – across the moat.

Cripes, don’t tell us they’ve kept Grendel alive so he can return in a future story. The Androids of Tara 2: Trudgement Day would be enough to finish us off.

Yet for all this underwrought swordplay, this serial is ultimately about Romana.

Whether hanging about in an impractical floaty white number or sporting her splendid purple tunic, Mary Tamm gets the majority of screentime. Even if it’s mainly spent hurting her ankle, being trussed up, and getting constantly leered at by the goateed Count / Cyril Sneer.

Ah well, at least her doppelganger immerses herself in the R&R atmos by partaking in some needlecraft (A Stitch in Time, anyone?).

Despite our resounding negativity, there are some moments worthy of mention in Key to Time 4.

We love the law of the land in which a new king has to be at his coronation at a precise time, but the castle owner is allowed to try to delay him. There's an ITV game show in that – quick, someone call Stephen Mulhern.

This story also achieves the distinction of introducing guards with the worst aim of any character in Who. In a universe dominated by boss-eyed Cybermen and Daleks, this is quite some accomplishment.

On the subject of misfiring…

Let’s drag this review to its drawn-out conclusion.

The Androids of Tara is a curious mash-up of a story. It wants to be Mandragora meets Android Invasion (oh, kudos for re-using the Android props).

In reality, it feels more like the unwanted offspring of The Gunfighters and The Reign of Terror.

Designed as an upbeat Robin Hood-esque adventure, The Androids of Tara somehow manages to avoid buckling a single swash.

In fact, adopt your finest Cilla Black impression to pronounce the story’s final word as Ta-ra! and the resulting vibes will reflect this serial perfectly.

After all that, we’re finally gonna follow Tom Baker’s example and have a lie down before slogging through the remainder of The Key to Time.

Though we’re starting to think it’s not just a nap we need. It’s a medically-prescribed time-out.

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