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So. Primeval. A story that starts with a sick Nyssa, a frantic Doctor, and a return to Traken—except not the Traken we remember. No lush civility, no quiet dignity, no Anthony Ainley skulking around in a velvet cape. This is prequel Traken. Ancient Traken. Petty, paranoid, smug-as-hell Traken. And it’s about as welcoming as a philosophical slap in the face.
The setup sounds good on paper: the Doctor brings Nyssa to her home planet to heal her from some vague, undefined space-curse. And because the TARDIS is constitutionally incapable of landing anywhere boring, they arrive during an ideological Cold War between two cults: the prissy light-worshipping Trakenites, and Team Kwundaar—devotees of an exiled god-entity with a voice like wet gravel and the moral compass of a toddler armed with a taser.
There could be something there, right? A contrast of philosophies. Tranquil selflessness vs cosmic narcissism. How societies mythologize their own origins, banish the inconvenient bits, and pretend they invented morality. But instead of running with any of that, the story just kind of… peters into a shrug.
The Consuls of Traken are a bunch of luminous elitist lampshades who clutch their pearls at the Doctor and refuse to help Nyssa because… she has a medical condition and therefore might be dirty? Honestly, it’s like watching a hospital get run by a yoga cult. The entire governing system of Traken is just a conveyor belt of robes, judgments, and very slow decisions.
So the Doctor does what any Time Lord in a narrative cul-de-sac would do: he unleashes an exiled demigod who hates everyone and once helped build the Source, the literal glowing lifeforce of Traken, only to be cast out for…reasons? Vibes? He was rude at brunch? Whatever the logic, Kwundaar has returned to claim vengeance, monologue excessively, and swish around with the kind of smugness usually reserved for tech bros who just discovered stoicism.
There’s potential here, buried deep in the script like a moral fossil—ideas about forgotten creators, spiritual betrayal, the pitfalls of utopia—but they’re skated over in favor of a lot of dialogue where people say things like “But the Source!” and “Your sin is revealed!” with absolutely no irony. And then it ends with the Doctor installing a new Keeper to set up the events of The Keeper of Traken, as if that will make anyone care more retroactively.
Nyssa spends most of the story being ill, unconscious, or used as a philosophical bargaining chip. She deserves better. Hell, the audience deserves better.
The sound design is passable. The music is fine. There’s an overuse of floaty echo FX that make everyone sound like they’re delivering TED Talks in a crystal cavern. And if you’ve got no deep affection for Traken lore (and I say this with love: who does??), this is going to feel like a politely dull fever dream from which you’ll awaken with zero memory and mild disappointment.
Final Thoughts:
There are sparks of ideas here, but they burn out before ignition.
2 out of 5 philosophically-malnourished space crystals