I was unable to get a copy of the omnibus edition I rented from a video shop in Hereford in 1994 for comparison, but certainly the picture quality here is as crisp as Quentin or Quavers. Blemish free, it’s never looked better, and it’s always looked good. Derek Martinus and his camera and editing crew throw in flourishes throughout, having fun in roomy locations with high angles and handheld cameras. Martinus is underrated as a director, probably because much of his work on Doctor Who hasn’t been seen since its original broadcast (he directed The Tenth Planet, Evil Of The Daleks and The Ice Warriors among others, and Spearhead was his final work on the show). For those of you unfamiliar with the story, it’s the first Third Doctor adventure, and the first to be recorded in colour. Writer and legend Robert Holmes recycled an idea he had for the 1965 film Invasion, and there are also similarities to Quatermass II. A meteor shower coincides with the Third Doctor’s arrival, and some strange goings on at a plastics factory. UNIT and a recently drafted Liz Shaw are on hand to investigate. In some ways it’s a shame that an omnibus cut isn’t provided, because Spearhead From Space is almost deserving of feature-length status. Its final episode does, sadly, involve rubber tentacles and mugging, and a credulity-stretching exhibition of top civil servants at Madame Tussauds, but otherwise this is as solid and entertaining a rejuvenation as The Eleventh Hour. Nicholas Courtney and Caroline John initially carry the show without the Doctor, and a dynamic is immediately established; her sarcasm and rational scepticism, his good-natured military pragmatism worn thin by scientific types coming in and being difficult. When the Doctor does turn up, he immediately sides with Liz and takes great delight in winding the Brigadier up. Pertwee’s early portrayal of the Doctor is more childlike than he would become later: he’s not yet fully formed, but more mercurial and flippant, and yet to become the stern authoritative figure of later years. While aspects of the story fall flat in the final episode, it’s still packed with memorable images: Nestene avatar Channing’s unwavering stare, the Autons attacking early-morning commuters, and their ‘Total Destruct’ function, which obliterates its victims and completely terrified me in 1994. Extras For those of you who don’t especially care about picture quality, or have already bought Spearhead From Space six times and can hum the excellent Dudley Simpson score from memory, there are new bonus features to tempt you. A Dandy And A Clown is a documentary about Jon Pertwee. Roughly 40 minutes in length, this features clips and photos that will likely be unknown to many (although some are recognisable from various Who-related non-fiction, like old friends). There are cine film and photos that come from friends and family. It doesn’t cover everything in detail, but it’s thorough enough that Doctor Who doesn’t crop up until halfway through. Pertwee (his name occasionally pronounced ‘Per-twee’ rather than ‘Pert-wee’ in clips) lived such a life as to make it impossible to focus on Doctor Who for long. For those of us born after Worzel Gummidge, this documentary provides a glimpse of the colossal impact the man had on the entertainment industry over the years. Especially when coupled with the recently published interviews in Doctor Who Magazine, A Dandy And A Clown gives us an impressive insight into the actor’s life. There’s a lot of affection contained here, in less than half an hour. The whole thing is definitively lovely. A short feature on the process of restoring the film for high definition highlights the improved quality but doesn’t include much in the way of technical detail. Doctor Who: Spearhead From Space is out on Blu-ray now. Follow our Twitter feed for faster news and bad jokes right here. And be our Facebook chum here.
