The Invasion | Sophisticated Idiots

The Invasion is the moment the Cybermen reach legendary status.

After this, their fifth outing, they get stopped for autographs on the street. A stand is named in their honour. They’re granted a blue tick on Twitter (is that still a thing?).

The Invasion is a barnstorming blockbuster of a production. Seven parts of weighty drama (we’ll come back to the errant eighth episode shortly), delivered with a cinematic confidence that deserves – nay demands – to be viewed on the big screen.

Well, weighty drama plus fashion shoots. Oodles of fashion shoots.

Ironically, The Invasion isn’t an especially strong showing for the Cybermen themselves.

They don’t appear until halfway and then waste most of their time in sewers or being driven insane by an emotion gun. Yes, really, Totes Emosh wins the day.

Nor are we huge fans of the Cybers’ glow-up.

The teardrop adornment makes them look, well, quite cute. And their voices have regressed to Tenth Planet levels of impenetrable ditty, like someone’s run a drumstick across a radiator.

It’s a problem producers deftly swerve by rendering them silent for 99% of the story.

Still, any naysaying about the new poster-boy villains on the street (literally) is irrelevant, cos they get to march past St Paul’s for their Kodak moment, cementing a slab of Doctor Who history in the process.

Even though the Cybermen are too busy soaking up 60s fame to be at their terrifying best, it doesn’t matter – because every other aspect here is 10/10.

Crucially, we reckon The Invasion may well boast the strongest ensemble cast until Genesis of the Daleks. Let’s recklessly dash into the sewers to grab some out-of-focus photographic evidence to support such an audacious claim:

Vaughn
It’s stating the bleeding obvious, but Tobias Vaughn is the best Bond villain not to appear in a 007 film (and superior to several of those who do).

Remember, he gives orders, doesn’t take them. In case you still dared question his gravitas, he’s crafted identical lairs in two different buildings. And nobody in history has steepled their fingers with such authority.

Vaughn’s technique of managing upwards, via the middleman made of Meccano who hides in his secret cupboard, is glorious: just holler till you get your way.

Yet for all the megalomania that Vaughn embodies, his generosity is sorely overlooked: note how at one point he gives the Doctor AN HOUR to consider his demands. Ah, the laid-back deadlines of an eight-part story, eh?

Speaking of chilled, Vaughn himself must be the most zen of any Who baddie we encounter. Throughout most of the story, he’s so relaxed he makes Monty Don look like Stressed Eric.

…and Packer

Until everything goes south at the end (spoiler alert: the Cybermen aren’t to be trusted), the only thing to get Vaughn’s blood boiling is Packer.

Their love-hate relationship is gorgeous. Vaughn starts out by goading his underling but doesn’t pause much of a beat before switching to full-on raging at the guy.

In Vaughn’s defence, Packer is a total tool who thoroughly deserves this treatment. Not only does he physically threaten women on numerous occasions, he’s bested by the Doctor using the old ‘look behind you’ prank.

The Brigadier (aka “what’s the flap?”)
Sophisticated Idiots aficionados will be familiar with our scorn for the moustachioed one. But here, he’s utterly charming. If a tad sexist (1968 and all that).

Sure, he’s glued to the phone, as ever, and waves his stick around like he's after some post-watershed action (aided and abetted by lines including “full penetration of red sector imminent”) but he seems to be enjoying himself thoroughly.

That’ll all change when Pat regenerates into Jon.

Zoe

This TARDIS team are on top form. Both Zoe and Jamie sit out an episode to go on holiday but that’s par for the course at this stage of the show.

When not instantly ditching her mates to strike a pose for Isobel’s camera, Zoe busies herself with destroying computers with her computations or using maths to bail out a roomful of misogynists.

Jamie
Meanwhile, “the boy” – Jamie’s of indeterminate age so, like Tintin, endures this widespread condescension – is outnumbered by the Zoe-Isobel duopoly and suitably cowed.

But he does get some magic moments: chiefly, rescuing the girls in the daring helicopter escape.

Though we doubt this looked as impressive when not animated and we’ll overlook the guards’ terrible aim (“they couldn’t shoot a flying elephant,” complains Vaughn, not unreasonably).

Isobel
The model-turned-photographer-turned-action-hero-turned-tea-maker injects the most fun into 60s Who since that drunken dare to film The Gunfighters as a musical.

Isobel is surely the companion Polly was supposed to be – her laissez-faire attitude rivals that of Vaughn’s, and her friendship with Zoe is dynamite.

We wish her and Jimmy well. If they ever recovered from the shock of seeing the TARDIS disappear from that field, of course.

Jimmy
It’s bizarre to hear the Brigadier issuing orders to everyone using their titles – apart from Jimmy, whom he first-names throughout.

Our military knowledge, and patience for Googling, isn’t up to understanding whether this means he’s the Brig’s bestie or a rank-less civilian.

Regardless, there’s no avoiding the fact that in the sewer scenes, Jimmy sounds like Kenneth Williams.

Cripes, this review’s getting as long as this story, and we haven’t even mentioned Patrick Troughton.

Perhaps this superb exchange best sums up Doc Two in The Invasion:

The Brigadier: “Are you in trouble?”
The Doctor: “No, but we shall need some help.”

In fact, this example of brazen fantabulousness isn't a bad summary of The Invasion overall, which is one of those rarest of things: a Classic Who story that takes a mid-point gear change – and lands it. The Seeds of Doom also succeeds. The Invasion of Time less so.

Here, we’re treated to an outstanding industrial thriller for the first few episodes, which then switches effortlessly to an equally great Cyberman shoot 'em up.

So, the final episode then.

It’s not a disaster by any stretch. Most stories over the next 20 years would kill for a closing part this strong.

But after a plethora of ballsy action and character development, the final 24 minutes is a hefty letdown.

The once-mighty Vaughn is reduced to a snivelling wreck and then most of the plot threads are played out by men staring at screens and talking on phones. But Spooks this ain't.

Undeniably, this cinematic Cyber adventure deserves a better final act.

Thankfully, though, when the preceding seven episodes are this great, the legend remains firmly unshakeable.

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