​Any long-running series goes through different eras, necessarily adjusting to shifts in culture to stay relevant. At this stage, just eight years into its epic dynasty, Doctor Who is already in its third age.

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We enjoyed the quaint feel of the 50s B-movie era, and then the epic 60s alien invasion period.

 

We’re now living through The Sweeney years, all shouting geezers, drab urban settings and unconvincing fisticuffs.

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And it’s fair to say we’re not loving it as much.

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Somewhere in The Mind of Evil there’s a good story. But it’s buried deep beneath heavy grey pantones and 70s men being ruddy men. Not to mention the convoluted plotting. To extract the good story that festers within, you’d need a teleporting gumball machine and a Chinese “dolly” to force it to manifest in its physical form.

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The core premise is a potentially brilliant one. A machine that projects – and feeds off – someone’s fears is a super-cool conceit, and the resulting deaths of the guy drowning in a dry office and another being savaged by invisible rats are wonderfully macabre.

 

It’s a shame the writers can’t develop this aspect and refrain from letting the story disappear up its own arse with nukes, peace conferences and the Brigadier in Amazon driver cosplay.

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One of the downsides of The Sweeney era is there’s a Royal decree that any story must be wrapped up in all the usual trimmings of UNIT, the Master and a bland British building. (A factory! A warehouse! A drilling site!) This time we’re getting an economy tour of the Prisoner: Cell Block H set.

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This formula is utterly stifling. At least Troughton’s copy-and-paste ‘base under siege’ Season Five offered some space travel in the mix (plus the wonderfully off-piste Enemy of the World of course).

 

Here, we’re six stories into the Doctor’s exile on Earth and it feels like an eternity. Couldn’t some kind-spirited fan set up a JustGiving page so we can club together to buy the poor sod a new dematerialisation circuit?

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Maybe this is a justifiable reason for why the Doctor is such a complete knob jockey these days.

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Pertwee = thoroughly unlikeable. There, we’ve said it.

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When he’s not rudely jabbering through someone else’s presentation, he’s barking at people incessantly like his Toxic Masculinity influencers from The Sweeney. At least Hartnell at his grouchiest displayed occasional bouts of jollity and alien quirk. Jonny is simply insufferable.

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Which means when he’s being beaten up by the mind machine or captured by the Master, the audience doesn’t really care. His obligatory GIF-baiting ‘I’m under a spell’ cross-eyed gurning routine is tedious as hell too.

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There’s mucho hype about Pertwee’s Doc being an action man, but from what we’ve seen this merely translates to some occasional slapstick running about and jabbing a thumb into opponents’ pressure points. There’s far less Cerebral Alien on display than his predecessors served us – and therefore this incarnation is as grey and uninteresting as his surroundings.

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The Doctor does have one lovely moment in The Mind of Evil when he shows up the Brigadier by speaking the Chinese delegate’s native tongue (and dropping into conversation for good measure that he’s pals with Chairman Mao).

 

We’re not sure it quite makes up for the production’s outstanding achievement of exposing the “remarkably attractive” Chinese aide Captain Chin Lee to both sexism and racism in one fell swoop. But at least they’re trying.

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Meanwhile, this is only the Master’s second appearance but he’s already being treated as if he’s the universe’s arch enemy Number 1, who will don a Disguise of the Week to snare our intrepid Time Lord.

 

Here, he’s in full cigar-chomping megalomaniac mode and Delgado brings a sinister presence, which makes it all the sadder when, for the second serial running (or 100 per cent of the Master’s stories, if you want to really spin it against him) he introduces a nefarious power to the world that ultimately he can’t control. So has to turn to the Doctor for help.

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This doesn’t help with the repetitious nature of the show at this stage but more importantly, such inept tomfoolery somewhat undermines his credentials as a supervillain. ​Though there is a nice touch when we’re shown that the Master’s personification of fear is the Third Doctor.

 

Same here.

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By contrast, we enjoy the Daleks, Cybermen and Ice Warriors – none of which this Doctor has yet encountered – cropping up in the Doc’s own projections of bowel-emptying creatures.

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The Master is effectively the Doctor’s companion in this season, rendering Jo Grant something of a spare part. Which is a shame because Jo is excellent here.

 

She spends an enormous amount of time incarcerated but she’s hard as nails throughout. Beating up two prison guards with a tray is ridiculous but splendid. She even trounces the Doctor at draughts. So we’ll forgive her the feeble attempt to effect an escape when she throws herself backwards into the prison guard at the end of Episode Five.

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In fact, this scene is symptomatic of a curious mix of violence throughout this ever-so-long story. Embarrassingly PG prison punch-ups give way to gratuitous mass shootings. The censors won’t stand for a right hook to be seen on primetime telly but gunning a man down at point-blank range is perfectly swell.

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That said, we must confess to enjoying the absurdity of the castle shootout. Yes, it goes on forever and the Brigadier’s common-man act that kicks it off is comical. But the actors are having tremendous fun fulfilling their childhood dreams by playing soldiers (note Sgt Benton shrugging off severe concussion to get stuck in to the warfare) so who are we to argue?

 

There’s plenty of entertaining murder on show – and even a charming headshot or two as the cherry on top.

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We do wonder if the budget frittered away on hiring the helicopter would’ve been better spent on creating an alien landscape set or two, but we’re too late: by this stage there’s no stopping the relentless throwing of kitchen sinks at this story.

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A few other fears brought to life during this serial:

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• The score is more rage-inducing than the mind machine.

• This is one of many Classic Who appearances by Michael Sheard – who will terrify the heck out of a generation in Grange Hill and then rub salt in the wounds as a proper snivelling swine in Remembrance of the Daleks.

• The Master has prepared a slideshow to outline his plan.

• When did English councils start sweeping up autumnal leaves? The Chinese agent is knee deep in the blighters (and you just know there are numerous dog turds in there too).

• Plot contrivance alert: there’s a secret tunnel into the prison that hasn’t been blocked off. But of course.

• Oh, and a handy Abort function on the nuke.

• The suit of armour in the Prison Governor’s office is shown so prominently – and frequently – it’s a shame producers passed up the chance to have the Master hiding in it at some point.

 

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In fact, missed opportunity is a neat summary of a story that initially promises so much but is ultimately hamstrung by its own insistence on following a tired tried formula.

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There’s an undeniable sense that the shine has rubbed off Doctor Who for now. It’s not just that the leading man is a bit lifeless in his early seasons, the whole production is flat and predictable.

 

At least in a couple of years British telly will be given a shakeup when ITV’s new hard-hitting cop show starring Thaw and Waterman arrives with a square-jawed bang.

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