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“The Masque of Mandragora” is not one of the series’ most celebrated stories. It doesn’t make most viewers Top 10 lists, it’s not the tape people tend to reach for when they feel like re-watching a “Who” story. In any discussion of the Hinchcliffe/Holmes era, it seems to be the story most likely to be overlooked.
This isn’t because of any great faults. “The Masque of Mandragora” is a fun, well-made little story that showcases a lot of the appeal of “Doctor Who” in general. But the problem with fun, well-made little stories is this: when they’re surrounded on either side by classics, they have a tendency to be forgotten.
THE GOOD
There are many wonderful little moments, particularly in the early episodes of this serial. The bit in Episode 1 where Tom Baker’s Doctor is confronted by the mounted soldiers and asked for his papers, for instance, is classic “Doctor Who.” Baker doesn’t overplay the comedy; he gives a perfectly Doctorish air of befuddlement as he pauses to skewer his apple on the nearest soldier’s sword before pretending to look for his papers. I could easily envision Troughton doing the same thing, in exactly the same manner.
The production team was always at their best in stories set in Earth’s past. The period design for the Dukedom of San Martino was very well done, from the palace corridors to the village to the catacombs beneath. The script is very successful in making a major theme of the struggle between reason and superstition. On the side of reason, we have the young Duke Giuliano: compassionate toward the peasents, and fascinated by science (i. e., the telescopes and his interest in the theory that the Earth moves and not the stars) and learning in general. On the side of superstition, we have Hieronymous and his cult: making sacrifices to their deity while searching for the future in the stars. In between, are the other characters--falling on one side or the other, but neither entirely superstitious nor entirely enlightened. All of this is well-balanced, and quite appropriate to the writers' chosen setting.
Federico (Jon Laurimore) is a wonderful villain. As Count, he has just enough power to be threatening; but being lower in rank than Giuliano also puts him in a precarious position as he schemes to usurp the throne. My only complaint with regard to this character is that he should have been the principal villain, as his schemes are infinitely more entertaining and suspenseful than the business with Hieronymous and the Mandragora helix. The tone and pace make this effortlessly watchable, as the script deftly mixes light humor with suspense, and period intrigue with science fiction. The latter mixture grows strained in the final episode--but the elements are balanced quite adeptly in the first three episodes.
THE BAD
As I alluded to above, I did not particularly like Hieronymous as a villain. He is one note and rather tedious, particularly compared to Federico. By this time, the Holmes/Hinchcliffe era’s obsession with controlled madmen acting on behalf of extraterrestrial evils was growing tiresome. It was time for a new style of bad guy, in my opinion. Also alluded to above, the main plot--with the Mandragora helix--was actually less interesting than the subplot of Federico’s plot to usurp the Dukedom. It would have made for a better story, in my opinion, to have just made a straight historical out of this, with Federico the sole villain. The cult was silly, and seeing Sarah captured by them twice in two episodes felt a bit strained. Sarah was generally not very well written in this episode. Elisabeth Sladen is fine, as always, and she has perfect chemistry with Tom Baker. But this script seems to have been written for “generic companion,” while most of the scripts the previous season were clearly written for Sarah-Jane.
All in all, a flawed but still highly entertaining story. Coming at another point in the show’s history, this would probably be significantly better remembered. As it is, this quite solid entertainment tends to be overlooked in favor of the titans surrounding it.
Rating: 
» Review by J. Paul Halt, Copyright 2005.
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