The story of Eighties Doctor Who isn't really about Peter Davison, Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy. It's the story of how the producer, John Nathan Turner, killed the show with bad taste.
It all began in the last season of Tom Baker's stint when JNT (as fans knew him) was hired to shake things up. Some of his decisions were good (more hard science, no more K-9); others set a cheap and nasty tone from which the show never quite recovered. Music produced on a tinny synthesizer, a disco-themed opening, and a "uniform" for each Doctor that they never took off (it must've stunk). The latter pointed to JNT's obsession with marketing: the collars branded with question marks and obviously designed to be repackaged as fancy dress costumes. This meant that when poor Peter Davison landed the role, he had to spend three years dressed as a cricketer.
Although only 29, Davison was a household name before he took the part, thanks to a couple of years spent putting his hand up a cow's bottom in All Creatures Great And Small (it was less well known that he composed the theme for Button Moon). The production staff went for a younger man to mark a decisive break from the Tom Baker years. They wanted someone who was not only physically very different but whose youth would suggest vulnerability; JNT, wisely, wanted to increase the sense of danger, the worry that the Doctor might not win. And sometimes the Fifth Doctor didn't. In one serial, Earthshock, companion Adric gets blown to smithereens while trying to stop a spaceship hitting the Earth. Although this was greeted with cheers rather than tears from most of the audience because the dreadfully amateur young actor who played Adric, Matthew Waterhouse, was a classic example of JNT casting with his eyes rather than his brain.
In fact, a great number of the elements of Davison's era worked rather well. There was a new, more realistic level of violence – encouraged by borderline sadistic pen of script editor Eric Saward – black humour, stories that thundered rather than plodded along, and none of the lame whimsy of Tom Baker's time. In a return to the dynamics of the Hartnell era, Davison's Doctor was partnered with people who didn't necessarily want to be with him. Tegan, an Australian airhostess, simply wanted to go home but the Tardis was too erratic to get her to the right place at the right time. Turlough plotted to kill the Doctor as part of a conspiracy with the Black Guardian (a god-like being with a dead bird on his head). Tension among the leads made the Fifth Doctor more a patsy than a hero. At first, Davison approached the role with boyish enthusiasm that could irritate. But by the final season he had learned better how to blend cynicism and panic. Anyone who wants to see what Who could've become if he'd stayed on one more year should watch Caves of Androzani – a serial scripted, filmed and acted so well that it belongs on the big screen. When the Doctor regenerates at the end (see the clip above) it's as if he is actually dying. And when he's reincarnated as Colin Baker, a part of you wishes he had…
In terms of the quality of the stories, it's tempting to call Davison's era the second golden age of Who. But there were problems, problems that would eventually become a crisis under Colin Baker. JNT approached the show like a panto and filled it with "big name" guests in order to get bums on seats. Hence Beryl Reid plays a spaceship captain; Michael Gough a time lord; Rodney Bewes – co-star in What Ever Happened To The Likely Lads? – a Dalek agent; and Liza "Woof" Goddard some sort of space pirate with the hair of an electrified poodle. Also, the show became obsessed with its past. Aliens were brought back long after they'd ceased to be a scary concept. In Warriors of the Deep (known by fans as Warriors on the Cheap), Silurians and Sea Devils are resurrected from the Pertwee era and the costumes are so old and poorly made that the Sea Devils' head loll to one side like they've got a crick in the neck. The Brigadier comes back, Gallifrey comes back, and four previous Doctors come back for an anniversary special. It's speculated that part of the reason for all of this nostalgia was that JNT was making money in the US through fan conventions, so he was milking the show's mythology for every dime he could. The casual viewer found it confusing. Fans loved it, but they were possibly being exploited, too. Behind the scenes, it's now alleged that JNT groomed young men for sex who visited the studios – that he engaged in a sex act while on the phone to a Blue Peter editor.
In terms of the show's artistic development, there was much, much worse to come. But Peter Davison could still leave the series with his head held high, satisfied that both critical reviews and audience figures were strong. By the way, in case you've always wondered why he wears some celery in his lapel, the explanation is given in Caves of Androzani in a lovely bit of dialogue that sums up the character's mix of politeness and wit:
Peri: Doctor, why do you wear a stick of celery in your lapel?
The Doctor: Does it offend you?
Peri: No, just curious.
The Doctor: Safety precaution. I'm allergic to certain gases in the praxis range of the spectrum.
Peri: Well how does the celery help?
The Doctor: If the gas is present, the celery turns purple.
Peri: And then what do you do?
The Doctor: I eat the celery. If nothing else I'm sure it's good for my teeth.