The Road to Oz by: L. Frank Baum

 

L. Frank Baum is clearly bored with the Land of Oz in The Road to Oz. Children once again demanded more Oz stories and he wrote this one within a year of Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz.  It follows the same formula: Dorothy finds herself on the way to Oz with a young male companion, an older mentor figure, and a wildcard character through magical circumstances.  After several misadventures with several different people, Ozma eventually gets involved to get our characters to the Emerald City before the mentor decides to stay in Oz and Dorothy makes it back home again.  The going back home again is literally the final line of the book, Dorothy and Toto going to sleep in Oz with the promise of waking back up in Kansas.  The Road to Oz lacks stakes, the goal to get to Oz is for Ozma’s birthday party and nothing more.  This is after the journey is well underway, until it is mentioned by one of the people met along the way the aimless nature of the wanderings is what dominates the book.

 

This time the inciting incident is one with surrealist potential but it gets dropped pretty early on.  The mentor figure is the Shaggy Man, an early example of the kindly hobo, who just asks Dorothy for directions to Butterfield, so he can avoid it, before they both slip out of reality down a trail of several roads.  The Shaggy Man is a character who fees distinctly early 20^th century, reflecting this attitude that is arguably kinder to a certain type of homeless person.  There is a distinction between hobo, a tramp, and a bum is this: a hobo being an almost respectable drifter who works while a tramp is a simple non-working traveler unless they must, and a bum neither travels nor works.  The Shaggy Man is not a bum, he is largely respectable with a proto-communist view on money and takes Dorothy’s kindness as given for being a good, American girl.  Baum’s economic philosophies coming out is nothing new with how previous books have characterized Oz as at this utopian monarchy, though The Road to Oz claiming there is no money in Oz should be fascinating.  Baum plays it off as just a normal thing, but does not actually explore it beyond that.  It’s also not just Oz, it seems the lands surrounding Oz also function without money.  When I discussed Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz there was a general sense that the thematic resonance of the previous Oz books was gone, and The Road to Oz does not actually improve matters.  This lack of money is a hint at some thematic relevance, there are a few lines that at least make the reader think what life might be like if people just helped each other instead of relying on the exchange of money for goods and services, but it’s a background detail.

 

The other two characters joining Dorothy, the Shaggy Man, and Toto are Polychrome, daughter of the Rainbow, and Button-Bright, a fool.  Polychrome is a perfectly fine character, fitting in well with the fantastical vibe that Baum hangs these novels on, but Button-Bright is one of those characters meant to be annoying and succeeds in being annoying.  The character is a commentary on the idea of the psychological blank slate, taking the world at face value and not really having his own sense of identity.  The individual adventures are also quite rapid here, Baum just stopping them whenever he gets bored and despite tributing A Midsummer Night’s Dream for a portion of the book, none of them particularly stick out when everything is said and done.  The final adventure is essentially a list of cameos from previous Oz characters, almost preternaturally quoting The Wizard of Oz 30 years too early.  That and including characters from other books Baum has written, a marketing stunt to increase sales of the books Baum clearly enjoyed writing more.  At least Jack Pumpkinhead’s cameo has this darkly comic edge of having several heads that have rotten and having his own graveyard.  The Road to Oz reads as a once great author falling because his readers are almost too demanding.

Overall, The Road to Oz is a book that at the very least might be enjoyable to young children who want more Oz stories, but there really isn’t much for even the slightly older children to really latch onto.  Devoting parts of the book to an advertisement for other work by Baum while including a surface level analysis of communism is at least a funny choice, Baum financially wasn’t doing as well at selling non-Oz books so the need to market is sadly there.  The road to Oz is a long one and one that is about as generic as the series has gotten, reminding readers of better stories instead of telling a story of its own.  4/10.

Invaders from Gantac! by: Alan Grant with art by: Martin Griffiths and Cam Smith and letters by: Gordon Robson

 

“Invaders from Gantac!” is written by: Alan Grant with art by: Martin Griffiths and Cam Smith, and lettering by: Gordon Robson.  It was released in Doctor Who Magazine issue 148-150 (April-June 1989) and is reprinted in its original form in Doctor Who: A Cold Day in Hell! by Panini Books.

 

While Alan Grant and Norm Breyfogle were writing and drawing Detective Comics for DC, the former was also closely linked with John Wagner, writer of early Doctor Who Weekly comics.  “Invaders from Gantac!” is Alan Grant being poached by the Doctor Who Magazine team for three issues.  Grant doesn’t actually have some big connection to Doctor Who, but Grant was one of the earliest writers for 2000AD making it odd that it took this long to actually get him onto Doctor Who.  The same can be said for artists Martin Griffiths and Cam Smith who provide the visuals for “Invaders from Gantac!”.  “Invaders from Gantac!” is also notable for being like “Culture Shock!”, “Planet of the Dead”, and “Echoes of the Mogor!” that it is interested in being a Doctor Who story and not a backdoor pilot for a different series.  Alan Grant had a job to do and he was going to do it.  He wanted to write a story about an alien invasion, so he wrote a story about an alien invasion.  It’s a relief to get a story that is just trying to be Doctor Who because the sense of the early Seventh Doctor comic run is that there’s almost a shame in telling Doctor Who stories, possibly because the magazine’s sales were down and the costs to produce the magazine were quite high.  There were even talks of cancelling the comic feature of the magazine while the Seventh Doctor was still in his television tenure.  “Invaders from Gantac!” released during the gap between Season 25 and 26, the show was still in production with Ghost Light, the final serial in production order.  It’s the last comic released while the original run was in production, production would finish when the strip picked back up in issue #152 production on Ghost Light would have completed.

 

“Invaders from Gantac!” does have a problem, however.  While it’s a story that’s not ashamed to be a Doctor Who story, it’s a standard Doctor Who story.  The Gantacians are invading Earth to find a treasure for their great leader, implementing a bureaucratic martial law that’s played largely for comedy but at least is something to define them.  The twist of the story is that the treasure they want is on the other side of the galaxy which is quite the funny twist, but it doesn’t actually add anything.  The Doctor still beats them anyways with the help of new friend Leapy, a tramp who has been caught in the situation of martial law.  Grant does try making Leapy a slight commentary on how the homeless are overlooked by society so that’s something, but he’s also defined by his many fleas for comedy.  Grant is also largely familiar with the Doctor as the character in Season 24, making jokes and mixing metaphors which while slightly annoying is again at least a characterization of the Seventh Doctor.  The plot also makes use of being slightly longer than recent stories, having three issues so there’s actually some development to the Gantacians as a society even if they are a basic parody of bureaucracy, them getting the planet wrong is technically a joke about how things slip through the cracks when things are gone over too many times.

 

Overall, “Invaders from Gantac!” is at the very least fine, it’s better than a lot of what the strip had been doing by being an actual Doctor Who story, but it’s not going to live on as one of the greats or anything.  The Doctor is fine and the Gantacians are at least fun enough for a joke, but this is a story that’s fairly easy to forget in a sea of at best forgettable stories.  5/10.

Aliens of London by: Joseph Lidster

 

Aliens of London was written by: Joseph Lidster, based on the episode of the same name and “World War Three” by Russell T. Davies.  It was the 201^st story to be novelized by BBC Books.

 

The farting comedy of “Aliens of London” and “World War Three” is something that largely pulls the first half of the story down due to the tonal dissonance of commentary on the Iraq War and the search for weapons of mass destruction.  When it was announced as one in a batch of novelizations for 2026 there was ever so slight apprehension that Aliens of London would lean further into this comedy.  Joseph Lidster taking the helm, however, is one of relief because Lidster’s style is exclusively dramatic.  If Lidster was to write a comedy, it would be a black comedy.  Aliens of London is a story that does not actually change much to story, like many of the Target novelizations for the revival it’s far easier to add to the story than take away.  Tonally, however, much of the fart jokes are outright removed.  They are still a part of the story, the Slitheen still fart because of the compression into the human suits, but Lidster aims this as unsettling.  It happens at largely bad times and Lidster keeps these scenes in the perspective of stressed characters, emphasizing the general disrespect that politicians can have for their underlings which adds quite a bit to the commentary against the government that Davies included in the television story.  There’s still the issues of the fart jokes happening, the over the top camp lines are still there, but they are underplayed in the prose and added with a purpose.  Sure it’s enough to stop this from being one of the best novelizations, but it certainly goes a long way to make the half adapting “Aliens of London” more bearable.

Joseph Lidster is also a writer who understands how to make the reader see how dark the Slitheen are.  One of the additions is a prologue scene from the perspective of the pig who the Slitheen use to fake their crash landing.  The pig is named Barry and was just living his life on a farm before he was plucked by the Slitheen for their plans, with Lidster also having the Doctor tribute him in the epilogue.  The Slitheen themselves are also positioned far more as dangerous hunters, Lidster’s darker tendencies being added as the individual Slitheen spending a year on Earth means victims of people who would be overlooked by society.  They have a need to hunt and kill, it adds this extra sinister layer to the aliens.  It’s more in line with what Davies would do with “Boom Town” but with Lidster’s prose it’s explicitly dark with carefully placed descriptors of the adrenaline and the blood.  There’s also this added layer of hedonism to the Slitheen, the one being Oliver Charles had several affairs with men and women, killing Oliver’s wife and his liaisons when the plan is put in motion because he is found at the last minute.  It’s presented as one of the first moments of alien activity in the novel, creating a gruesome yet callous first impression that just works.  The high emotions is something Lidster chases, letting Jackie Tyler get room to break down silently in an added scene because she was in fact ready to give up after a year of Rose being missing.

 

There is a little bit of expanded fan references, however, that are focused on to various degrees in the telling of this novelization.  The most obvious is the use of Toshiko Sato, given some scenes at both Torchwood Three and Torchwood One.  Lidster cannot help but include Jack Harkness and Yvonne Hartman in various capacities.  Jack’s scenes do work to expand that little continuity snafu in Torchwood with Owen as the medic, but more importantly it actually helps Tosh be a bit of a better character.  The Yvonne scenes are just a touch too indulgent, it’s filling in things that are made issues by future stories.  In the televised story there is a minor character credited as Muriel Frost, a character from the Doctor Who Magazine comics that is confirmed to indeed be that character by Lidster, referencing meeting the Seventh Doctor explicitly which is slightly better than the Yvonne appearances.  It at least is just expanding a character on television slightly and making the reader care just a little bit because the Doctor actually remembers and acknowledges her, something that makes sense to avoid on television since this is a story from the first series of the revival.

 

Overall, Aliens of London is a novelization that reads more like a political thriller while maintaining the integrity of the original scripts.  The couple of trims are in aid of creating a less comedic tone, emphasizing the drama and anguish of even the regulars.  There is an emphasis on humanity even if Lidster occasionally lets the fan brain take over and add in a couple of cameos, though mostly cameos with some substance to them.  There are still some weaknesses inherent in the story being told, but it is a great little read.  8/10.

Family by: Ronald D. Moore and directed by: Les Landau

 

“Family” is written by: Ronald D. Moore, based in part on a premise by: Susanne Lambdin and Bryan Stewart, and is directed by: Les Landau.  It was produced under production code 178, was the 2^nd episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 4, the 76^th episode overall, and was broadcast on October 1, 1990.

 

“The Best of Both Worlds, Part II” has a final shot that by all conventions of television is the ending of that arc.  Picard has been saved, changed by the experience, and looks out upon the world below with uncertainty about where to continue.  The next episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation should be business as usual, that is how television works.  The writing room would have the awareness of how the characters have changed by the events of the previous episodes, but they are not continuing.  Showrunner Michael Piller decided, however, that there should actually be a follow up.  We shouldn’t go back to the status quo, The Best of Both Worlds was hell for our characters and they need to heal from a lot of that.  “Family” is the result of healing: not written under Piller’s pen but to Ronald D. Moore, though some material is adapted from an unused script from Susanne Lambdin and Bryan Stewart.  As an episode, this is a different beast for Star Trek as a franchise, playing out as a straightforward drama exploring three characters’ relationships with their families in the aftermath of “The Best of Both Worlds, Part II”.  There is no big alien threat, the Enterprise is not malfunctioning, and the rest of the crew has shore leave.  There are some repairs occurring, but that is Moore’s excuse to keep the Enterprise on Earth for an extended period of time.  The conflict of the episode is entirely interpersonal tension, something that Gene Roddenberry would have absolutely hated as he fully believed that people would not have interpersonal conflict in the future.  Roddenberry by this point has been proven wrong, his outlook while utopian is not conductive to good drama.  Moore attempted to create a science fiction conflict in the episode, but was unsatisfied so kept it as 45 minutes of drama over anything else.

 

This is the third episode in a row where Patrick Stewart as Jean-Luc Picard is given the central and technically impressive performance of the episode.  Picard goes to his family’s vineyard to visit his brother Robert and his family, played by Jeremy Kemp, Samantha Eggar, and David Tristan Birkin.  Robert is the younger brother who never really managed to match up to Jean-Luc’s lofty ambitions, but he is also a man of the world, maintaining the vineyard and having a conservative attitude towards technological progress at odds with his brother.  Kemp and Stewart immediately read as brothers, the former caring for the latter though being unable to see exactly the trauma that Picard has gone through.  Stewart plays Picard in every scene as a broken man putting on a brave face, ready to run away from the Enterprise so he doesn’t have to face the unknown of space.  It’s mirrored with the potential unknown under the Earth, but Moore’s script is adamant that that isn’t actually the unknown.  There aren’t new civilizations under the ground, but the Borg aren’t there.  He would be safe, he wouldn’t have to face it.  “Family” is a masterclass in writing that implication, there’s only one line where Picard actually acknowledges he is broken at the climax of his arc in the episode.  It’s all in Stewart’s performance of a man who sees his nephew adore him and the idea of going into Starfleet while not being able to encourage him because of how broken he is.  “Family” also does not posit that Picard is fixed by the end, but he is on a road to healing.  Setting his arc at his family’s vineyard also gives the episode a distinct look, director Les Landau making full advantage of the location shooting.  The California vineyards being used to double for France is a visual representation of what the Borg took away from Picard, turning him into a sterile member of the collective.  It also just makes “Family” a gorgeous episode to watch after what’s been a series of largely studio bound episodes.

 

Picard’s story is only one family being explored here.  While it is the heaviest, Moore parallel’s Picard’s trauma with Worf’s ostracization from the Klingons in “Sins of the Father”, brining in his adoptive parents played by Theodore Bikel and Georgia Brown.  Michael Dorn as Worf has always been one of those layered performances in the show, and this episode is no exception.  Worf’s parents love him deeply.  Sure, they have a tendency to be a bit embarrassing and a little overbearing, Bikel and Brown give performances of doting parents.  They understand their son isn’t a human, respect whatever path he was going to take to embrace Klingon culture, and are deeply proud.  Worf doesn’t have to face his problems alone.  It’s this plotline that hits me in a very personal place because Moore’s script clearly understands the importance of independence from one’s parents but also keeping that support.  Worf didn’t want his parents to visit the Enterprise, but in the end he’s happy they are there because he doesn’t have to face his dishonor alone.  The conflict here is also coming with this slight wall that Worf puts up throughout his parents’ visit, though it’s not one where it comes to blows.  It’s there to explore a relationship and Moore’s script also acknowledges where Sergey and Helena, that is Worf’s parents, can actually be overbearing quite a bit and also need to take a step back.  The added nuance is nice for a show from the 1990s.

 

The third plot is the smallest, it’s Crusher finding possessions she left on Earth including a message from Wesley’s father for him made when he was a baby.  Gates McFadden and Wil Wheaton in this episode are given perhaps the smallest subplot, but it’s also one with the biggest impact.  Wheaton in particular has gone down in history as playing one of the most annoying characters on television, but that’s just not true.  Wesley here is allowed to be a full person, struggling with the decision to view the message and so much of Wheaton’s body language in his final scene is perfect.  McFadden for her part is clearly relishing the material for the third episode in a row allowing Crusher a more proactive role, even if this proactive role is as a concerned mother.  The show is finally allowing Wesley to have his own development and come to his own independence as a parallel to both Worf and Picard’s plots.  These three plots work because they are fully parallel, there is no crossover here.  This is an episode of television that could not be made in today’s production landscape, taking 45 minutes just to look at where our characters are after the last two episodes changed the status quo.

 

Overall, “Family” is the third episode in a row to really take a risk, going against every rule that Gene Roddenberry would set out for Star Trek.  It should be unsurprising that this is a risk that paid off completely, because “Family” is one of those episodes that works because it sits with its emotions.  Were it made today it would be decried as woke propaganda, emasculating our male characters, and that’s why it works so well.  It examines the idea of family and returning to family after experiencing a trauma that you can never truly share with them.  10/10.

Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz by: L. Frank Baum

 

L. Frank Baum introduces Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz with a message lamenting the fact that children want to hear of more adventures in Oz despite the fact that he has several other stories to tell.  This book at its core was a response to all his readers and he clearly does not want to be writing yet another Oz book.  Like Ozma of Oz before it, Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz is a book where Oz is the destination and not the journey.  This structure is a double-edged sword for Baum, obviously it falls into the problem of being a formula and sticking so heavily to it making these books seem repetitive structurally.  Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz does feel like this, the structure is episodic with Dorothy, the Wizard of Oz, her cousin Zeb, her cat Eureka, and Zeb’s horse Jim going from danger to danger until Baum decides it’s time to have Ozma bring them all to the Emerald City in Oz for one last adventure involving the justice system and a missing, presumably eaten, piglet before sending Dorothy and Zeb back home.  On the other edge of the sword, it does mean Baum can explore different worlds and things that wouldn’t necessarily fit right within the bounds of Oz that have been set.  The first adventure of Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz especially doesn’t quite fit in the idea of Oz, instead being more a subversion for the audience, Baum playing with when the Wizard comes back into the narrative.  It’s notable that this is the strongest sequence in the book as well.  It’s where Baum ties into recent American history, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake was fresh in his mind.

 

Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz is one of those books that fits well into literature at the time.  The earthquake influence has Dorothy and company sent underneath the Earth following clear inspiration from the work of Jules Verne and Lewis Carroll, under the Earth lying the Mangaboos.  Stylistically the falling is A Journey to the Centre of the Earth while it follows the Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass logic of talking vegetable people ruling their own society.  Baum does some self-parody here as well with the Sorcerer of the Mangaboos being a humbug like the Wizard, only for the Wizard to appear to live up to the philosophy of being a very good man, but a very bad wizard.  Obviously, there is that retcon of him not having overthrown the original government of Oz and given Ozma to Mombi.  This portrayal of the Wizard is far more jolly, he is kind and does get rewarded in the end for helping Dorothy through her many perils with the chance to be an official court wizard for Ozma.  That is jolly except for when the slices the Sorcerer in half for the reveal that the Mangaboos are vegetable people, a particularly dark twist again coming from the Carroll influence but in a very Baum way.  Baum does not do the typical picking up new companions throughout the novel, instead introducing Dorothy’s cousin Zeb as almost a proto-Eustace Clarence Scrubb.  While I do not know if C.S. Lewis ever read Baum as a child, you can trace a direct line between the characters (Jim the horse also feels like a proto-Strawberry from The Magician’s Nephew).  Zeb isn’t annoying or in need of his eyes being open to the world of magic around him, but he is the normal foil to Dorothy and the Wizard.  The disappointment is that Baum does often forget about him, he is the least interesting character however.  Baum also is excellent at writing a cat.  While the sequence in Oz where Eureka is put on trial could be described as tacked on to make this an Oz book, it is incredibly funny with how Eureka isn’t so much evil, but indifferent, selfish, and caring all at the same time.  Sadly the ending just kind of runs to a word count and Baum wraps things up.

 

Overall, Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz sadly lacks a lot of the thematic depth that the three previous Oz books really had.  The middle sequences with the gargoyles, the dragonettes, and the invisible people are all good but they are often just standard children’s adventures.  The most interesting parts of the book are that potential direct line between Verne and Carroll to Lewis, though there isn’t quite enough to say of a direct inspiration.  It’s an easy read and continues the general fairy tale nature of the Oz books, but there is a clear sense of Baum rushing to get things on the page because readers demanded it without quite enough ideas to sustain the novel as well as he could.  7/10.

Follow That TARDIS! by: John Carnell with art by: Andy Lanning, John Higgins, Kev Hopgood, Dougie Braithwaite, and Dave Elliott and lettering by: Bambos

 

“Follow That TARDIS!” is written by: John Carnell with art by: Andy Lanning, John Higgins, Kev Hopgood, Dougie Braithwaite, and Dave Elliott, and lettering by: Bambos.  It was released in Doctor Who Magazine issue 147 (March 1989) and is reprinted in its original form in Doctor Who: A Cold Day in Hell! by Panini Books.

 

“Follow That TARDIS!” is best described as giving readers absolutely nothing.  John Carnell brings back the Meddling Monk and he runs through time while the Doctor follows with the Sleeze Brothers in tow.  The Sleeze Brothers are meant to spin-off into their own miniseries later in 1998.  To put it in fanfiction lingo, they are John Carnell’s OCs.  This story exists for spin-off potential by grabbing the readers of Doctor Who Magazine, and reflecting that there is no story here.  Sure, it’s only seven pages long, but there have been seven page stories that could at least do something with a premise.  Instead we catapult through time and space for wacky hijinks wrapped around historical tragedies which makes it feel quite mean-spirited.  On the strip are five very good artists bringing at the very least in brief panels a vivid future to life.  Carnell does establish this satirical future that is clearly in line with the ethos of where comics and Doctor Who at the time were going.  It’s cyberpunk by way of tacky consumerism which would be a fantastic setting to slap the Meddling Monk of all characters in.  We just don’t do it, instead this thing has the tone of a farce: the Monk’s TARDIS is a toilet which is self-parody of the lowest common denominator.  The Doctor is barely a presence in the story itself, while the Sleeze Brothers get to do wacky comedy.

 

Overall, “Follow That TARDIS!” is nothing.  It’s barely even a story, and it feels like John Carnell was told you need to fill seven pages with anything.  We aren’t going to check.  Lanning, Higgins, Hopgood, Braithwaite, and Elliott are all underused because these are talented artists drawing to a nothing script.  2/10.

Time and Tide by: Richard Alan and John Carnell with art by: Dougie Braithwaite and Dave Elliott and letters by: Tom Orzechowski

 

“Time and Tide” is written by: Richard Alan (a pseudonym for Richard Starkings) and John Carnell with art by: Dougie Braithwaite and Dave Elliott, and lettering by: Tom Orzechowski.  It was released in Doctor Who Magazine issues 145-146 (January-February 1989) and is reprinted in its original form in Doctor Who: A Cold Day in Hell! by Panini Books.

 

Richard Starkings’ voice has been the main constant on the Seventh Doctor Doctor Who Magazine comic strip.  He had been the primary editor on the strip and is responsible for the rotating of writers which while successful for the Sixth Doctor has been less so for the Seventh.  “Time and Tide” is the first time Starkings tried his hand at writing the strip for two issues under the pseudonym Richard Alan with John Carnell.  Carnell for his part is not a writer of note.  He gets a co-writer credit for this story and writes the following story, the one issue “Follow that TARDIS!” on his own.  Outside of Doctor Who Magazine Carnell seems to be a staff writer for Marvel UK during this period, but biographical information is scarce.  He shares his name with a science fiction writer and editor who passed away in 1972 and seems to be of less note, now working in his own independent sphere overshadowed by the editor.  In terms of the art, “Time and Tide” is odd not for its artists, Dougie Braithwaite and Dave Elliott are no slouches of course the former doing the art for Garth Ennis’s Punisher MAX issues #13-18 and the latter having his own career with Marvel and DC, but this story has a guest letterer.  Tom Orzechowski is a letterer about as notable for his lettering as Starkings was, only taking these two issues because he was a fan of Doctor Who.  The lettering in this story is different, it’s clearly not the house style in terms of formatting and how Orzechowski portrays dialogue coming from far away which is a very nice touch.

 

It's a shame then, that despite the massive talent behind this story, “Time and Tide” does not really work.  The plot is the Doctor once again stumbling into a situation which is essentially the standard for this period, though this one has the nice little drama of being separated from the TARDIS as it’s swept away in the tide.  This is the planet Tojana which is having all of its land swept away in the tide, the natives don’t have a solution and are resigned to their fate.  That is except one, the Worrier, who at least is willing to entertain the Doctor’s idea to build a boat.  Sadly, that’s where the story ends, with the Doctor allowing this one last person hope on a raft in the ocean.  It’s an ending that Starkings and Carnell want the reader to believe is hopeful, but the art gives something different.  The reader has seen an extinction event and the Doctor just shrugs.  Add that to the natives being aliens while not visually but in terms of characterization are indigenous savages: they want to eat the Doctor and don’t have any technology of necessity while just not looking as the tide is encroaching.  It’s the major event for much of the two parts of the story, outside of some gorgeous art of space and that’s really a problem here.  This race of aliens is very much rooted in colonialist stereotypes of savagery.  It takes up so much of the story that the more interesting idea of a society already past the point of collapse due to a changing climate is just ignored.

 

Overall, at the very least “Time and Tide” has some very pretty art and the talent behind it is genuinely great.  Richard Starkings and John Carnell have at least an idea for a story here, even if what’s on the page doesn’t really work.  We’re leaving the period where they did not have much for the Seventh Doctor and moments have that peak through, though we’re still a few months away from where the Seventh Doctor’s Season 25 characterization can really make it over into the strip.  There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but we’re still in the darkness of a directionless strip.  4/10.