Attack of the Cybermen | Sophisticated Idiots

Can we check something with you guys?

Maybe we've been partially converted without our knowledge, but in this story the decision that Peri should change her ridiculous outfit, lest she freeze on Telos, seems to fall to... a compassionate Cyberman.

If so, let's all agree the natural order of things in Doctor Who has been flushed down the sewer.

It's no wonder the most-uttered line from everyone’s favourite non-American in Attack of the Cybermen is, “I'm confused.”

We're entirely with Peri on this point: this opener to Classic Who’s nadir season is beset with bafflement from start to finish.

The script is one obvious example. Fandom rightly get their chameleon circuits in a spin over the lore-retconning, continuity-spoiling sins committed by Attack of the Cybermen.

Sadly, there's an even more prominent problem at play here.

And in line with the producers’ uncompromising tone at this point, we may as well be spitefully blunt about it: this is the performance that crushes Colin’s tenure.

The Twin Dilemma debut fiasco was recoverable, had the Doctor’s manosphere behaviour been presented in hindsight as a one-off, a freak reaction to a wonky regeneration.

During the close season, the audience waited, fingers duly crossed (Colin’s closing Twin Dilemma monologue haunting every fan's shut-eye) to see which direction Six’s second coming would be heading in.

And Attack offers a perfect early opportunity for salvation, when a clearly terrified Peri reminds our delightful new Doctor – “a man of science, temperament and passion,” apparently – he’s not been himself of late.

It would’ve been a simple tap-in for Colin to reassure the audience (and the domestic abuse survivor in the TARDIS) that it’s okay, he’s back to normal.

Natural order restored, on we could go with Doctor Who proper.

But no, the producers are stubborn sods, meaning the Colin’s not for turning. Thus the open goal is duly fluffed when the Big Man doubles down on his toxic temperament.

We’re supposed to be comforted by him promising not to hurt Peri (pretty high on the list of statements that should go unsaid, we reckon), a sentiment which would probably land better if he didn’t call her an “ungrateful wretch” in the same breath.

Anyway, having dealt expertly with that diplomatic snaffu, Doc Six is then racing off, with his bewildered companion trying desperately to keep up – literally, as he’s traipsing London’s streets glued to his screen like a Roblox-junkie teen – while he coshes policemen, guns down Cybermen and turns the TARDIS into a pipe organ.

Baffling is one word for it. Many other, less family-friendly, adjectives are available.

But let’s not spend longer on the characterisation of the leading man than the producers did.

What else doesn’t stack up about Attack, we hear Brian “that sounds like an insult” Glover holler? Well...

We’re baffled how the Cybermen are casually mooching around inside the impregnable TARDIS.
We’re baffled by the Doctor’s claim that the Cybermen’s only weakness is their duty to respond to a distress signal. The smorgasbord of creative Cyber deaths here somewhat exposes this fiction.
We’re baffled why we’ve switched to 45-minute episodes, robbing us of the blessed relief of cliffhangers.
We’re baffled by the downright schizophrenic tone. One moment we’re bathing in synth frivolity during comedy EastEnders punch-ups, the next a Cyberman’s being shot through the mouth at point-blank range.
Oh, and we’re baffled by the alleged x-rated violence being the best-remembered aspect of Attack. Personally, we can't see past the squeaky-voiced Cyber Lieutenant.

We suppose we'd better turn to the Cybermen themselves then: we can’t help but feel they should have stayed under the cover of the black and white days.

In the 60s they were mysterious and (almost) undefeatable. A foe of intimidating proportions.

Exposing them to the super-saturated palettes of the 1980s just seems cruel.

Promisingly, the early Cyber scenes here are suitably moody, with the silver sapiens snapping guns like twigs and creeping around the sewers.

But Attack represents sequel seven of the silver series, so we’ve reached Friday the 13th franchise levels of ante-upping, hence the litany (Lyttony?) of ever-more-creative deaths.

To stop the kids getting bored by the talky-talky bits, there are plenty of jovial scenes of Cybermen being decapitated, laser-blasted and murdered using a sonic lance (our mate Lance hopes the nickname sticks).

Plus the point-blank face-shooting, of course. Cute.

But you wanna know what's the most baffling thing about all this bloody-fisted nonsense? There’s plenty to enjoy about Attack of the Cybermen.

(If you’re getting de ja vu tingles from our Silver Nemesis review at this point, you’re not far wrong – uncannily similar problems stymie both serials.)

That's right: there’s some genuinely quality stuff on display, if only you can manage to blink away the spots from the blinding Technicolor of the TARDIS duo's costumes.

Dear reader, the talent behind Attack bestow upon you:

David Banks
The enjoyable chameleon circuit tomfoolery
Welcome references to Zodin, Susan, Jamie and Zoe
Peri bests a mind-controlled copper with brick dust
Stratton and Bates (pretty sure that’s the brand name on our lawnmower) achieve new levels of overacting
“You’re bonkers.” / “That’s debatable.”
The choreography on every fight scene – particularly if a Cyberman is required to whack someone – is so atrocious it's an art form
We hope the Doctor’s line, “The atmosphere is rather rancid” is meant ironically
The Cryons are sexy Sensorites.

Of course, the main highlight in Attack of the Cybermen comes courtesy of Lytton, who abandons his diamond heist ruse to instead steal this entire story.

In a slight awky momo, producers were trying to paint Colin's Doctor as an anti-hero, but instead accidentally nailed the concept with a character left over from Resurrection.

The yuppie gangster (or Smooth Criminal, anyone?) succeeds in being far more likeable than the Doctor. He enjoys watching a Time Lord squirm. And spits the best putdown of this story, “Your regeneration has made you vindictive.”

Yes, Lytton's hand-crushing grabs the Daily Mail ragebait headlines, but his demise is really rather moving.

Albeit fleetingly, mind, to enable everyone’s second-favourite blond Doc to round this story off super-abruptly by confessing he’s never misjudged anyone as badly as he did Lytton.

Self-reflection, eh? This’ll surely lead to character softening and the restoration of the natural order…

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