Holistic Review: A fairly humdrum tale with lots of alpha-male boasting and fighting, although episode 3 is entertaining.

The Time Warrior is notable in Doctor Who history for several firsts: the first appearance of perennial fan-favorite companion Sarah Jane Smith, the first appearance of classic recurring monsters the Sontarans, the first use of the time-tunnel opening sequence and the diamond logo, and the first mention by name (in a throwaway line) of the Doctor's homeworld Gallifrey. It's also written by Robert Holmes, arguably the most respected writer that the classic series ever had. As such, The Time Warrior generally seems to be very highly regarded by fandom, with much praise for Holmes' funny script and the vivid performances by the cast. But me? I just don't see it.

I find The Time Warrior to be relatively forgettable, mainly due to the plot and acting. On the story side, there's not a whole lot to prop The Time Warrior up beyond its initial conceit of a militaristic alien stirring up trouble in medieval England. That's really about all there is to it. The kidnapped-scientist plotline provides an excuse for the Doctor to get involved, and a goal for him to reach (liberating them from Linx's enslavement and getting them back home), but the scientists themselves don't figure much into the story; their only function is to repair Linx's spacecraft by the end of episode 4, which they dutifully do. In the meantime, all the action is happening outside Linx's laboratory. This mostly consists of the warmongering Irongron demanding weapons so that he can go out and conquer all of England with Linx's sophisticated technology, and playing with whatever weapons Linx provides for him. In plot terms, this really never goes anywhere, aside from his aborted attempt to overthrow Edward's castle next door. So the entire story seems to be a runaround of bravado and action scenes while we wait for Linx to fix his spaceship and leave, while the Doctor tries to find a way to stop him and rescue the scientists without Irongron getting in the way. Not a lot of plot there to fill four episodes, and indeed, not very much happens at all in the first two parts. By the end of the first part, the Doctor's only just arrived on the scene, and Linx has captured a few scientists; and by the end of the second part, Sarah's actively trying to take him down; but that's about as far as the plot advances. The story's capturing-and-escaping quotient is not inconsiderable; while I'm able to overlook that if the plotline is interesting, in this case the capturing and escaping seems tobe the plotline. Things improve in episode 3, which is at least entertaining if inconsequential, but overall it feels like a premise somewhat squandered.

The second major problem is the acting. Talented performers can at least mitigate a boring plot by making their characters fun to watch; such is not the case here. Of the guest stars, the only two I find compelling are Donald Pelmear as Professor Rubeish, and Kevin Lindsay as Linx. The rest, while not bad actors, aren't quite good enough to deliver their lines in anything more than the usual cod-Shakespearean style, in which the actors are more concerned with declaiming their lines rather than really feeling them. It makes me suspect that they felt hampered by the stilted style of the dialogue; this almost certainly affects David Daker, who actually strives to give a nuanced performance as Irongron, but the character is so one-note that Daker can't seem to break past what the script expects of him. Irongron is your typical medieval warlord, all boastful and trigger-happy (well, sword-happy) and ready to lop off heads at the slightest provocation. He delights in torturing people for sport, loves to make ominous threats, revels in belittling his men, and tries to pretend he's all brave and fierce, but really he's a coward who runs away from battle and can't stand up to Linx except in the course of retelling events to Bloodaxe and muttering grand proclamations of vengeance. When three-quarters of your lines are threats and insults and declarations of murderous intent, there's really not much you can do with the character; I'd like to see how Daker would have handled a more subtle role. Some of the more bizarre lines that Daker is given include "Oh, for pity's sake, cease this babbling, girl!", "That fellow has the gall of a camel and the cunning of a fox!" and "Ooooh, mice!". I can't lay all the blame at the feet of the script, however; while Daker makes a good attempt, he still has a tendency to shout his lines, so perhaps Irongron could have been a slightly more subtle character than Daker's portrayal allows. (We also get a couple of flubs, on "Sour wine... stinking meat... sour wine... is this how I'm served?" — Irongron really obsesses about his wine in this story — and "I want Sir Edward not to... know the moment when his head is parted from his shoulders.")

The least successful, in my opinion, is John J Carney as Bloodaxe, who's scripted as Irongron's somewhat dense yes-man. Given that all he really does is trot around after Irongron egging him on, he doesn't really stand on his own as a character, and Carney's delivery — particularly in the beginning — is often overeager. (For the most egregious example, see "He would have words with you, Lord Linx!") The other resident of Irongron's castle is scullery-tyrant Meg (Sheila Fay), who becomes one of the more fun characters of the story when she confronts Sarah in part 4, but otherwise isn't given much to do. And of course there's the sentry (Steve Brunswick) who is, um... less than believable.

In the next castle over, we have Edward of Wessex (Alan Rowe) and his wife Eleanor (June Brown). Both are pleasant characters, but not terribly interesting, and the actors give your standard "medieval nobility" performances. Eleanor, in particular, is an odd one; when Edward clutches her hand and declares his wish to defeat Irongron, whom she seems to despise, her only response is a very cold "If you will excuse me, my dear, I must give orders for dinner." Eric (Gordon Pitt) seems like a likeable fellow, but he barely appears in part 1, so he never gets enough screentime to make an impact. Finally, there's Hal the archer (Jeremy Bulloch), who saves the day at the end by arrowing Linx through the probic vent. Of the "good" characters, he gets to participate the most in the plot, but he's also fairly bland.

Thank heavens for the others. Take Donald Palmear as Rubeish; as scripted, he's a fairly standard scientist character. He's a bit absent-minded, prone to abstruse tangents, open to extreme possibilities, equally adept at all forms of science (he grinds his own lenses, for goodness' sake!) and nearly blind without his glasses. Palmear's performance, however, is eager and sly; Rubeish is gung-ho about helping the Doctor, but he's no fool, and knows how to fly under Linx's radar to remain undiscovered. Given how little he's actually involved in the plot, it's surprising that he's such a memorable character, but as the Doctor's secret weapon on the inside of Linx's laboratory, Rubeish keeps his ears peeled and efficiently organizes the resistance, and becomes quite lovable for it.

Kevin Lindsay is just superb as Linx, with the gruff, sibilant voice that I will forever associate with Sontarans. Warrior races like the Sontarans are generally about as interesting to me as doing the dishes, and still the idea of a "Sontaran episode" doesn't fill me with glee, but Linx I really like. He's not all about noble honor and the glory of battle; he's actually fairly contemptuous of humans, only using Irongron and the scientists because he's forced to, and he's not willing to play along with Irongron's little games or mood swings when he has more important work to do. You can tell that Linx is reining himself in only because he has to; and there's a nice glimpse of his true power when Irongron actually tries to attack him, and Linx overpowers him within seconds. (This helps to make up for the scene in which squat, powerful Linx is overbalanced by a backslap from Irongron.) I also love the hissing noise that Lindsay makes when Rubeish strikes Linx on his (enormous) probic vent, and it's also clear that Lindsay has put a lot of thought into the way that an alien from a high-gravity environment might move on the planet Earth.

It's a very good story for the Doctor, who gets to outfox Irongron's men with a fun plan involving dummy soldiers and "magic" stink-bombs. We also see the Doctor's magnanimous side, as he forgivingly offers to help Linx repair his ship and escape the Earth, if he just returns the scientists to their proper time. (Naturally, being an evil villain, Linx prefers the warmongering option, despite the fact that the Doctor would be far more useful to him than an entire bevy of twentieth-century scientists.) The Doctor also gets to demonstrate his marksmanship, shooting the control box out of Irongron's hand with a crossbow, along with fighting a whole gang of medieval thugs and pretending to be a swordfighting android. Among Pertwee's best deliveries: "Oh! I see, I'm so sorry. Hello, how do you do?", "I never lie. Well, hardly ever.", "Sarah, now, listen to me...", and "It's a little bit unsporting, old man! I mean, sitting ducks and all that."

As long as I'm speaking sacrilege, I must admit that on the strength of The Time Warrior, I would never have suspected how wonderful Sarah Jane Smith would turn out to be. While it's a strong début for a new companion, it's also not the most auspicious one. Particularly in the first two episodes, Sarah comes across as bossy, full of herself, a know-it-all, reluctant to admit if she's wrong, and not terribly warm. In short, not a particularly nice person to know, or an easy person to get along with. (Check out the smugness of her line "He's turned out to be quite an artist, once I set him on the right lines.") The Sarah of the Pertwee years is often so obsessed with male chauvinism that she comes across as prickly and antagonistic, and for all that people sometimes complain about her character getting watered down and wimpified in the Tom Baker years, it's the best thing that ever happened to Sarah, because that's when she starts to come across as warm, funny and vulnerable. This Sarah is none of the above.

Compounding the problem, Sarah's reactions throughout the story are those of a caricature, not a real person. When the TARDIS lands in medieval England, her first thought is to find a telephone, presumably to call her editor. The interior dimensions of the TARDIS don't appear to have fazed her much, nor does the fact that she's suddenly in the middle of the countryside. Later, when she's attempting to capture the Doctor, she rescues him from a fight with Irongron's men; and the significance of the fact that Irongron was just trying to lop off the Doctor's head flies straight past her, as she remains convinced that the Doctor is a traitor working for the enemy. It's a novel idea to have a companion who's actively suspicious of the Doctor when there's no reason to be (otherwise Ian and Barbara would surely claim that title, but their suspicion was fully justified), and who doesn't even realize that she's just travelled in time (and, as a result, strolls blithely into dangerous situations), but I think Sarah had to lose some of her deductive reasoning skills in order for these ideas to work.

But, for all of her negative character traits, Sarah also exhibits a whole lot of good ones. Aside from the fact that she's obviously more self-confident and capable than Jo (though Liz would be strong competition), Sarah is analytical, feisty, good at coming up with ideas, empowered, determined, brave to the point of fearless, and she's no shrinking violet, particularly when it comes to women's rights. She's also allowed to be clever; I like that when Sarah asks the Doctor not to patronize her with glib responses, and he then tells her the honest but complicated truth, she actually follows along.

Thankfully, Lis Sladen is able to make the most of her character's shortcomings, and her performance helps to makes Sarah more likeable even if the dialogue doesn't. She's one of the few actors in the entire story who injects any subtlety into the lines. Here begins the Era of Delectable Lis Sladen Deliveries, which in this story includes: "Now you've had your laugh, now, you know, just let's stop it and talk sensibly.", "I mean, I know things were pretty grotty in the Middle Ages, but really!", "I'm not so sure about that.", and the delightfully sotto voce "Oh, I could murder a cup of tea." I also love her quick thinking with the regal "You... common scullion! Stand aside! How dare you obstruct me? I shall have you flogged!" and then her very un-posh "Look at that great spider!" Sarah finally begins to come into her own in part 3, when she and the Doctor have their first real conversation. Some of Sarah's bravado peels away, and we get a look at the sensitive person underneath. From that point on, she comes across as more reasonable and less, well, unbearable.

I must also mention Sarah's hair. I've always found it interesting that in the Pertwee years — up until The Ark in Space — she has this close-cropped shoulder-length style that's pretty, but slightly severe. It perfectly matches her more aggressive personality during this era of the show. (Oddly — and perhaps deliberately — it's also a little bit less feminine, as if you can't stand up for women's rights unless you're tough and masculine. Which, I'm sure, was somewhat true at the time, given that women felt they had to prove that they could be equal to men, and just as no-nonsense, in the workplace. Just look at the way they dress Sarah in dowdy business suits, sweaters and trousers during this same period.) When her character suddenly softens in The Ark in Space, so does her hairstyle, becoming loose and wavy and much more attractive on her.

I hate to wag my finger at the great Robert Holmes, but really I don't think this was his best work. I understand that he really wasn't into having a historical setting forced upon him, and I think it shows. Clearly he wasn't comfortable with having to script period dialogue, which is why we get so many clunkers, like Hal's "There is much strange at Irongron's castle, Sir Edward.", and all the lines of Irongron's that I quoted above. Naturalistic much? Nor do his characters feel like real people; between the serving wench with crazy hair and the barbaric manor lord spewing out his wine and hurling the goblet against the wall, the first scene alone sets up the fact that we're watching a bunch of medieval stereotypes. In fact, "sloshing wine" seems to be shorthand for "Middle Ages"; witness also the scene in which Irongron complains about needing wine, then takes one swig out of a goblet and slams it down while it's obviously still full, and demands yet more, which he then sloshes around in his overexcitement. Any time a scene in Irongron's castle involves a goblet of wine, you can bet your sweet bippy that it's gonna get sloshed (and so is Irongron). Holmes has often been lauded for creating entire believable civilizations in his Doctor Who stories, but here he seems to be settling for depicting a culture in broad strokes rather than interesting details.

Alan Bromly's direction is decent, with some nice shots including the reveal of Linx's true face, the well-staged fight scene at the end of episode two, and the cute shot of Sarah trying to jump to see over the rampart. The editing, however, occasionally leaves something to be desired, particularly with the cliffhangers. While the direction of the fight scene is good, the actual cliffhanger of episode two is abrupt and not terribly interesting ("He who strikes Irongron dies!"), and the same could be said about the episode 3 cliffhanger, in which Linx caps off a fight by, yawn, firing at the Doctor. Nor is episode 1 much better — as dramatic as the moment is, why does Linx remove his helmet in public, where anyone could see him? Also along editing lines, there's a sudden puzzling moment when Sarah, trying to find Professor Rubeish, sneaks onboard the TARDIS; the last we saw of her, she was hiding in her cubicle. When and how did she leave her cubicle and tiptoe past the Doctor and the Brigadier, without being noticed?

One element of this story that I can praise (almost) unreservedly is the costuming and makeup. The costumes are all great, but I must single out Linx's armour (particularly the padded jerkin) and Sarah's two medieval outfits (her green tunic, and the blue dress with the cowl). Likewise, the Sontaran mask is just fantastic. Future appearances would see diminishing returns, and to this day, the first Sontaran mask remains the best. Overall it's very realistic, particularly thanks to the brow furrows and the tufts of hair, both of which — along with the coloring and shading — would become overexaggerated on future masks. Here, the designers' restraint is key, and it results in a very convincing alien visage. The major reservation to my unreserved praise — and it is admittedly a huge one — is the Sontaran android. While the costume design is pleasingly similar to Sontaran armour, it also looks hilariously lumpy and top-heavy. You can pretty well tell that the helmet is sitting on top of the operator's head, which becomes all too clear when a scene requires the head to be severed. (And for an advanced military weapon, the android barely "fights" at all; when Linx demonstrates its abilities, it mostly just bumps into the table over and over again, and timidly whacks at a pewter plate.)

Although there aren't a lot of effects in this story, they're just average: Linx's ship flying through space and descending to Earth is a prime example, although I like the way it glows from a distance. The ship itself, on the other hand, is a great design, interesting and memorable. The sound effects are nice, particularly the Sontaran truth ray. I must also give a shout-out to fight arrangers Marc Boyle and Terry Walsh, not only for the fight scene in episode two, which is kept interesting as the Doctor continually hurls bits of set dressing at medieval warmongers, but also for the excellent stunt-falls by Hal (when Irongron throws him backwards) and the Doctor (when Linx flips him) in episode four. Very nicely done!

The new opening sequence is great, and I'm particularly fond of the star tunnel interludes, which look really cool. I wonder why they got rid of those after season 11? Incorporating a full-length shot of Pertwee was a nice touch, and makes an interesting change from the floating Doctor-heads. In fact, after the Davison starfield (which is thanks more to the Howell theme arrangement than the visuals), these might be my favorite opening credits.

Minor points:

• After his ship crash-lands outside Irongron's castle, why does Linx wait to emerge until Irongron investigates the following morning?

• For a mighty military civilization, you'd think the glorious Sontaran Empire would come up with a slightly more terror-instilling flag, wouldn't you? That dinky little flag, despite the cool way it pops out of the pole, is sort of pitiful.

• I like the way that the Doctor tests Sarah here, before he drops the anvil:

  Doctor: "I read your paper on the teleological response of the virus. A most impressive piece of work."
  Sarah: "Thank you!"
  Doctor: "Particularly when I realized you must've written it when you were five years old."

• When the Doctor makes for the TARDIS, Sarah interrupts him with "What are you going to do in there?" as if she's expecting him to go inside and lounge around. If I saw someone walking up to a wardrobe, I'd be more likely to ask what they were fetching from it (if, indeed, I were that nosy in the first place). If they climbed inside, like the Doctor does here, I'd be at least a little bit surprised! Again, more evidence that Sarah's reacting like a caricature rather than an actual person in this story.

• Linx makes the modest boast that "There is not a galaxy in the universe which our space fleets have not subjugated." Um, really?! Sontarans have covered the entire length and breadth of the universe and conquered every alien race they've encountered? Even the Daleks?! Don't make me laugh. Besides which, hello, Rutans!

• One wonders if a Sontaran's only weakness is their probic vent, or if they'd be equally vulnerable out of their armour? Surely they would. In which case Irongron could have gone all Lizzie Borden on Linx when he took his helmet off, if he had been so inclined.

• In another case of "the script dictates what I shall do", why is the Doctor building a device that's going to detect exactly the method Linx happens to be using to abduct the scientists? The Doctor knows the scientists are disappearing, but not how or why, so what makes him believe that they're being spirited away in exactly this manner, rather than, say, teleported away?

• When Professor Rubeish disappears in the middle of the night, and the Doctor bursts into his room, he finds Rubeish's clothes folded neatly on the middle of his bed, with his bag sitting atop them. So, um, where was Rubeish sleeping?

• When the Doctor looks for traces of Rubeish's abductor, he finds an afterimage of Linx ghosted onto the landing outside. But, if Linx's image was going to appear anywhere, why on the landing rather than in Rubeish's cubicle?

• I can buy that the Sontarans have matter transmission technology; after all, this shows up again in their subsequent stories. But time transference? For all that the Time Lords protest about keeping a tight rein on unlicensed time travel, it's surprising how many alien races seem to have the capability.

• How did Linx find this bevy of scientists in the first place? And why is he only stealing them from this one time and place? I suppose I could believe that he assumed that it would be best to abduct scientists from the furthest limit of his range, as they would be the most advanced, rather than somehow researching and selecting geniuses from throughout Earth's history, like Einstein. (He's leaving that trick to the Rani.) But why does he apparently assume that all of Earth's best scientists in whatever-year-this-is are in this one small area of England?

• There actually aren't a ton of really good lines in this story, but this is one of them:

  Doctor: "Brigadier, a straight line may be the shortest distance between two points, but it is by no means the most interesting."

• Once inside the TARDIS, where does Sarah hide out from the Doctor? And how does she know how to get back out, once he's left?

• Sarah makes surprisingly little fuss about Bloodaxe taking her gold necklace, aside from a yelp of pain. I don't think she ever gets it back, either!

• Ha, and here is one of the few truly funny lines:

  Linx: "Ah, I understand. You have a primary and secondary reproductive cycle. It is an inefficient system, you should change it."

• When the Doctor runs into Sarah, and barely evades the party dragging Hal off to execution, both of them continue down the hallway to the left. So why does the Doctor choose to take the central staircase going up, rather than following them? And how does Sarah not make it out to the courtyard until well after the group carrying Hal does?

• This Professor Morrison is causing all kinds of problems. First off, you may notice that the Doctor clearly recognizes him, and calls him by name, but when it comes time to escape Linx's laboratory, the Doctor's only concern is taking Professor Rubeish with him. (Perhaps because Rubeish is the only one who's not under Linx's thrall, but I'm dubious.) Then, although Morrison is clearly the balding man in pajamas (here, and in episode 4), in episode 3, Rubeish addresses the scientist in the brown suit with "Oh, Morrison, don't start asking a lot of awkward questions!", while the actual Morrison is standing to brown-suit-man's left. Confuuuusing!

• Oddly, while Sarah spends a large portion of the story believing that she's stumbled upon a period-recreation castle, by the time she arrives at Edward and Eleanor's castle, she's finally come to the conclusion that she's actually travelled in time and is standing in the Middle Ages. What made her accept it?

• A "bravo Sarah!" line:

  Sarah: "There's always something you can do! It's just a matter of working out what."

• At this early stage, Linx tells the Doctor that "[the Earth] has no military value, no strategic significance." You'll sure change your tune, sweetheart.

• The first time that the Rutans are mentioned, both the Doctor and Linx pronounce it rú.t^hən, as favored by the fourth Doctor in Horror of Fang Rock.

• Ha! Wow, did they actually get away with this?! (Also, I should've counted how many times the Doctor says "Yes, of course." in this story.)

  Doctor: "Smith. Yes, of course. Look, will you excuse me? I've got to go and find a young girl. I'll see you later — I hope."
  Rubeish: "Young girl? I should've thought he was a bit old for that sort of thing."

• The fight scene is much reduced during the recap at the start of part three!

• Talk about flammability! The Doctor tosses a burning torch onto a pile of straw, and whammo, instant raging inferno!

• When trying to convince Sarah of his benevolent nature, he asks her, "Have you ever heard of UNIT?" Um... didn't she just infiltrate it?

• A nice Doctorly quote:

  Sarah: "You're serious, aren't you!"
  Doctor: "About what I do, yes. Not necessarily the way I do it."

• Of all the possible advanced weapons that Linx could have made for Irongron, why does he choose rifles?

• Wasn't Sarah listening when the Doctor described the contents of the potion bags to her? Now she thinks they're belching poison gas!

• One of the few Irongron lines I actually like:

  Irongron: "Oh, my thanks, good toad-face! — er, good Linx."

• And a cute exchange with Rubeish. I like that he, like me, thinks first of gourmet delicacies:

  Doctor: "Don't you want to get back to the twentieth century?"
  Rubeish: "Oh, steak and mushrooms, lobster, chocolate truffles — oh dear me, yes!"

• When Linx is threatening the Doctor with his gun, what's the metallic pendant that seems to have suddenly appeared around the Doctor's neck? It has a most interesting shape, and I can't figure out what it's for.

• Why does the Doctor think that simply putting Linx's helmet over his head will magically make him sound like Linx? (Then again, it is Bloodaxe he's talking to, so I don't suppose he had to be all that convincing.)

• Golly, talking of the dialogue getting away with risqué references:

  Sarah: "Don't the guards on the gate get stew?"
  Meg: "What, meat for those common creatures? I should say not. They'll have oatmeal, same as the rest of us, and lusty enough they are on that."

• And probably my favorite exchange of the story:

  Meg: "Women will never be free while there are men in the world, girl. We have our place."
  Sarah: "What subservient poppycock! You're still living in the Middle Ages!"
  Meg: "Eh?"
  Sarah: "Nothing..."

• How come the scientists are literally too exhausted to stand when they're hypnotized, but once they're deconditioned, they're back to their normal strong selves?

• When Rubeish is telling all the other scientists to continue pretending they're hypnotized, Linx is lying just across the room, incapacitated but apparently not unconscious, as Irongron doesn't have to rouse him when he cuts Linx's bonds. So didn't he hear everything that Rubeish said?

• When Irongron uses the Doctor for target practice, his men fire their rifles at him 27 times in total. Okay, so they're bad shots, but 27 times?! How does the Doctor dodge that many bullets?

• Isn't it a bit risky of the Doctor to put everyone in the castle to sleep right before Linx's ship blows it up? Especially when he's concerned about getting everyone evacuated in time!

• Along the same lines, we see Hal (half-heartedly) warn the men in the banquetting room, but does anyone give a heads-up to the women in the kitchen? (For that matter, we don't see anyone but the Doctor, Sarah and Hal escape, so as far as we know, nobody else made it out alive.)

• Hope UNIT didn't need any of that computer equipment back. It's all gone up in flames now!

The pseudo-historicals are always a fun excuse to visit an interesting time period; but this one, thanks to all the macho posturing and yawn-worthy stereotypes, is less interesting than most. Add to that a very simple plot and an overbearing companion, and you can see why I have trouble appreciating The Time Warrior. Thankfully, there's some fun to be had in the latter half, and an interesting villain; and Sarah shows a few early glimmers of the powerhouse companion she would later become. But, for me, it's a slightly below-average outing.