Running Through Corridors: Rob and Toby's Marathon Watch of Doctor Who (Volume 1: The 60s) by Robert Shearman, Toby Hadoke

warlord Tegana is clearly shown to be the story’s villain – but he is an enemy purely because of cultural difference, not because he is intrinsically evil. And Derren Nesbitt plays the role so subtly – just listen to him. Swarthy Mongol with an earring he may be, but there’s nothing in his voice which marks him out as a caricature, nothing which suggests that Tegana doesn’t see himself as a heroic patriot. The scene where he encounters the Doctor and friends, and gives orders for them to be killed as evil spirits, is all the more startling because Nesbitt makes the argument sound eminently reasonable. In his discussion later with Marco Polo, you almost find yourself warming to Tegana’s point of view, until you catch yourself realising that he’s coolly advocating the murder of our heroes. In any other story, too, Marco Polo would be presented simply as an obstacle to be thwarted, but Mark Eden makes him so affable and courteous that, again, you can appreciate his reasons for stealing the TARDIS. And it’s extremely clever the way that writer John Lucarotti uses the poignant scene in which Susan talks about her not having a home, to make us sympathise more with Marco Polo’s position. He has not seen his home for 18 years, and fears he will be killed at court upon Kublai Khan’s death.
    And William Hartnell continues to be a joy. Irascible at one moment when he realises the TARDIS is broken, charming with Ping-Cho whilst eating her soup... and, best of all, overcome with delighted hysteria when he realises he’s lost his only means of travel through time and space, and has no idea what to do next.
    T: The TARDIS might be a space/time vessel, but it’s no sanctuary – if something simple goes wrong with the Ship, even the snowy environment in which our heroes land becomes as palpable a threat as any robot or cyborg. If they don’t do something quick, they’re going to die of hypothermia, and not even the “magical” TARDIS interior can save them.
    What’s funny is that although we know now that this story is a historical, it’s at first played as if it’s science fiction. Something as simple as a footprint is used to generate menace, and Barbara thinks that a beast or creature – which is finally revealed as a fur-dressed Marco Polo – is stalking them. The longer pace of sixties TV allows the mood and suspense to build up in a manner that wouldn’t be countenanced today. Similarly, I love the narrative device of Marco reciting his diary entries – it’s a very nice flourish that’s not seen in any other Doctor Who story, and the uniqueness of this makes me realize just how much modern shows can be bloody hidebound by format or concept. 24’s raison d’etre relies upon a “real-time” gimmick that necessitates the unlikely conceit of something dramatic happening on the cusp of every hour, and a protagonist who appears to have had a bladderectomy and owns a mobile phone with a limitless battery. Doctor Who, however, will dispense with such gimmickry in one episode, then try something new next week. It’s the only prime-time British TV show that dares do such a thing.
    Strangely enough, by the end of the episode, the biggest threat to the crew – the person who forcibly takes the TARDIS, their most prized possession, and announces his plan to trade it away to end his exile – is actually a very affable and reasonable man. This puts the audience in a strange position: after spending just 20 minutes in Marco’s company, you want him to get home, but also know that if he gets his wish, our heroes are scuppered. This is subtle, clever and brilliant character work. We love Marco’s intellect and reasoning, but at the same time must acknowledge that from the Doctor’s perspective, Marco is also something of a savage.
    The Singing Sands (Marco Polo episode two)
    R: I think it’s really rather terrific that the most alien thing we’ve yet encountered in Doctor Who hasn’t been found on some