The Three Doctors | Sophisticated Idiots

When it comes to an anniversary mash-up, does the quality really anti-matter?

We’ve always had enormous fondness for The Three Doctors, but should also reluctantly admit this first attempt at the sub-genre isn’t anywhere near as good as people remember.

You know what, though? Perhaps an objective assessment is futile when you’ve got Troughton! In Technicolour! Together with Pertwee! And Hartnell! Sort of.

We’re fully in head-versus-heart tussle territory here.

Which leaves us no alternative but to follow the lead of those panic-stricken Gallifreyans and put all our eggs in one basket by calling on the Power of T H R E E:

T is for…

Troughton
In preparation for this triumphant reappearance, we wonder if the only scenes Pat watched back from his time in the TARDIS were those where he plays the fool in The Dominators.

His goofiness is fun – and we adored it as kids – but in adulthood, we’re left judging the likes of the Cybermen, Ice Warriors and the Great Intelligence for how they let themselves be bested by this “clown" (© Billy Harts).

The Brigadier
The walking fun sponge is at max grumpy here. In hindsight, this explains why we approached the Pertwee years with such trepidation when we started our review-athon.

Three seasons trapped with this chump? We'll take Omega up on his offer of eternal company, if it's all the same.

Time Lords
They’re not only panicky, they’re also pathetic. And dressed like giant owls. Are these really the same all-powerful fellas who so roundly bullied the Second Doctor in The War Games?

Honourable mentions to:

Tea-stirring using a silicon laboratory rod
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star – is this story the reason we were all taught that bloomin' tune on the recorder at infant school?

H is for…

Hartnell
Yes, it’s a tremendous joy to see him back, but heartbreaking that he’s clearly so ailing. We can’t help but feel the kinder move would've been to let him stay in bed and use footage from Shada instead.

Happy Benton
The perfect foil to the Brigadier’s grouchy sod, Benton is having a whale of a time. Probably because Yates isn’t around to steal half his lines.

Our mood is improved immeasurably by the moment when the hapless Sarge is left in charge of the colourful blob and, presumably in the absence of any directing notes, hangs out in the corner of the room for NO REASON WHATSOEVER.

Honourable mentions to:

“Holy Moses! What’s that?”
Help Yourself Doctor. Literally
I am he and he is me.

R is for…

Renegade Time Lord
Omega is held up as a bona fide classic villain of the original series – and he absolutely deserves every iota of the reputation.

Frankly, the sour-faced one is the best thing about this story.

The overacting is frequently cited as a drawback but for us, it’s a major plus-point. And bettered only by the fact he’s voiced by Matt Berry.

See...

Anyway, the tragedy theatre mask is splendid. The mania is palpable. And his ability to wish up a chair is awe-inspiring.

Producers shouldn’t have tried to bring him back, of course.

Still, if they hadn’t, we’d have been banging on their doors demanding they do so. Hypocrites unite...

Recorder
Unless the untold hours of missing 60s stories comprise exclusively of Doc Two performing folk ditties, we don’t recall ever seeing Troughton playing his ruddy recorder. So why he’s so obsessed with it here, we’ll never know.

Still, it’s perfectly natural for it to have simply fallen into its rigid position in the force field box. That's how gravity works, after all, kids.

Redecoration
Don’t try to quietly sneak in a new-look console room to cover up that you’ve ditched the Time Monster eyesore between seasons. Got warped in storage, my derriere.

Honourable mentions to:

Rough and tumble – Jon’s latest fisticuffs, this time with the dark side of Omega’s mind (or a fella in a pig mask), thankfully see him get roundly whooped
Radiant coat – Jo’s flamboyant blue number is straight off the set of The Muppets.

E is for…

Effects
Much of the klutzy charm of The Three Doctors is thanks to its laughable visuals.

From the utterly adorable shuffling jelly creatures to the neon smudge that terrorises the professional soldiers in UNIT HQ – oh, and the HQ itself suddenly tumbling into the black hole – it’s all so rooted in hilarity that it’s immune to parody.

Energy
Pertwee and Troughton are absolute dynamite together.

Yes, Pat is borderline insufferable as he adopts a Butlin's tribute act version of his Doc Who character, but it at least helps make the usually cranky Third Doctor rather likeable, forcing him to be the grown-up in the room when his predecessor is acting the goat.

Experimental idea that really works

The main selling point on display is, of course, that this is the first multi-Doctor story.

Producers roll the die in a tenth anniversary gamble that pays off handsomely. And acts as a strong trial run for when they’ll go for broke (literally – the Beeb had to sponge off the Aussies) with the idea in another decade.

And the second E is for…

Exile
Are we the only ones who feel sorry for Omega? He just wants some company – and we reckon he and his Doctor chums would happily while away the centuries with some fascinating discussions over a bottle of Scotch.

Earth
So-long Blighty (other countries do exist, producers).

After 17 or so seasons of us suffering the exiled Third Doc ordering companions to make tea and urging Yates and Benton to just kiss already, his reward for not throttling Troughton here is the return of his dematerialisation circuit.

Which means he’s now free to hop wherever he likes through time and space once more. And yet… in Pertwee's remaining nine stories, three of them are set entirely on Earth. The Time Lords must wonder why they bothered.

Entry that’s average
The Three Doctors is fortunate to boast two outstanding gimmicks in Omega and the multiple Doctors idea.

It’s still a thoroughly middling story. But without these elements, this season opener would have disappeared from our collective memories faster than the chords to Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

Honourable mentions to:

Enormous misogynist – Gun-toting Ollis doesn’t even try to explain to his worried wife where he’s been
Equation – Tyler, an academic-cum-puppy who, like any scientist worth his doctorate, instantly scrawls E=MC2 into the sand. Just in case we were questioning his qualifications
Epilepsy – shall we pop a trigger warning on the mind-meld scenes? Nah, it's the 1970s - don't be so damn woke.