What if the Doctor had not been the scientific advisor to U.N.I.T.?
1 Comment
Styre
on May 7, 2016 at 8:57 PM
SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL
With the first Unbound release concentrating upon the Doctor himself and his behavior while restricted on Gallifrey, it is no surprise that the second took the listener to the series’ most familiar stomping ground: Earth. Here, in Jonathan Clements’ inversion of the Pertwee era, another simple question is asked: what if the Doctor’s exile had started in 1997?
Clements adopts a strategy used previously by David Bishop in his Who Killed Kennedy: he examines the events of the Pertwee era through bystanders’ eyes, allowing the listener to hear of events in much the same way as they would have done had they seen them on the news. Except this time it’s different: rather than reading of real-time journalistic accounts, we hear the aftereffects of UNIT action without the Doctor’s temperate influence. Clements brings a stunning amount of continuity to bear on this play, but it works: we learn about how almost every TV invasion story was handled by UNIT without the Doctor, and the results are never pleasant: from craters across America to a giant lake in the heart of London, it is apparent that, with the Doctor absent, UNIT resorted to its usual explosive methods to eliminate its adversaries.
As such, this is a much less attractive 1997 than that through which we lived. The story takes place on the eve of the Hong Kong handover, and the China on display is a massive world power with scary military technology — the threat of war is constantly audible in the background, even if it’s never overt. This allows for a much more hard-bitten UNIT, which is also conveyed well by Clements — I can see why he was drafted to write for the recent UNIT miniseries.
The second Unbound Doctor is easily the least distinctive, but that is not to say that David Warner’s performance is lacking in any way. He’s not the upright, moralizing Pertwee Doctor, but rather something more unnerving; he’s just as desperate to escape his exile but he doesn’t appear to have the same difficult moral hurdles to overcome. Shifting from threatening to appealing with ease, Warner slips into his role remarkably quickly: you can feel him chafing against the limits of life on Earth, and the only time he sounds perfectly at home is discussing the outer limits with a monk. Warner is also the most accessible of the Unbound Doctors, so it’s no surprise that his Doctor drew the most fan demands for a return — or indeed that those demands will apparently be satisfied.
The more obviously changed character is the Brigadier, who has retired to Hong Kong in disgrace after apparently being drummed out of the corps with an honorable discharge. Setting the play in 1997 also allows Nicholas Courtney to play up his age, and he brings a downtrodden, saddened Brigadier to the ear — but unlike his counterpart, he hasn’t fallen into the abyss of fatalism, as seen in his heroism as the play progresses. Courtney is stellar in the role, as this Brigadier bears his disgrace with a quiet dignity — but, like the Doctor, rises to the bait when challenged.
There are really only two significant supporting characters in Sympathy for the Devil, both of whom have great significance to Doctor Who as a whole. Ke Le, pronounced quite similarly to Keller, and usually known as the Master, is brought to the audio stage by the legendary actor Sam Kisgart, who bears a strong anagrammatical resemblance to one of the new series writers. “Kisgart” is exceptional — rather than the forthright nature of Delgado or Ainley, or the brink-of-death insanity of Beevers and Pratt, this Master absolutely relishes his mania. It’s smug, languid evil, and “Kisgart” pulls it off effortlessly — it shouldn’t, but it *works* so well when he says the classic Master lines. Second of the important supporting characters is Colonel Brimmicombe-Wood, played by upcoming tenth Doctor David Tennant. I wasn’t a particular fan of Tennant’s performance in Colditz, but here he’s amazing — the Colonel is as complex a military character as you’ll find, showing contempt for the Brigadier, sympathy for yet command over his underlings, and absolute desperation to escape at the conclusion. He’s also hilarious — his exhortation of a soldier to look at the sun and use it for light had me laughing. Unfortunately, the other supporting characters range from annoying to insignificant, but the story isn’t particularly concerned with them.
Gareth Jenkins provides some of the most “realistic” real-world sound design I’ve heard from Big Finish — the background sound is amazingly constructed, right up to the final scene. Andy Hardwick’s score is also well-produced, lending the play a suitably epic feel. And Gary Russell’s direction is its usual strong self: given the great number of characters and settings, he keeps the play on track and suitably pacy. The first two Unbound plays have had a more “immediate” feel than much of the main range — this is not to criticize the main range, but it does seem as though the Unbound range is structured to sound differently in more ways than just the script and lead actor.
Overall, Sympathy for the Devil is a strong second offering for the Unbound range. It’s not without its flaws, as such a complicated script will almost always have disappointing elements, but the acting and the production help make up for many deficiencies. 2003 was a wonderful year for Big Finish, and this play is just one of the many examples of why.
SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL
With the first Unbound release concentrating upon the Doctor himself and his behavior while restricted on Gallifrey, it is no surprise that the second took the listener to the series’ most familiar stomping ground: Earth. Here, in Jonathan Clements’ inversion of the Pertwee era, another simple question is asked: what if the Doctor’s exile had started in 1997?
Clements adopts a strategy used previously by David Bishop in his Who Killed Kennedy: he examines the events of the Pertwee era through bystanders’ eyes, allowing the listener to hear of events in much the same way as they would have done had they seen them on the news. Except this time it’s different: rather than reading of real-time journalistic accounts, we hear the aftereffects of UNIT action without the Doctor’s temperate influence. Clements brings a stunning amount of continuity to bear on this play, but it works: we learn about how almost every TV invasion story was handled by UNIT without the Doctor, and the results are never pleasant: from craters across America to a giant lake in the heart of London, it is apparent that, with the Doctor absent, UNIT resorted to its usual explosive methods to eliminate its adversaries.
As such, this is a much less attractive 1997 than that through which we lived. The story takes place on the eve of the Hong Kong handover, and the China on display is a massive world power with scary military technology — the threat of war is constantly audible in the background, even if it’s never overt. This allows for a much more hard-bitten UNIT, which is also conveyed well by Clements — I can see why he was drafted to write for the recent UNIT miniseries.
The second Unbound Doctor is easily the least distinctive, but that is not to say that David Warner’s performance is lacking in any way. He’s not the upright, moralizing Pertwee Doctor, but rather something more unnerving; he’s just as desperate to escape his exile but he doesn’t appear to have the same difficult moral hurdles to overcome. Shifting from threatening to appealing with ease, Warner slips into his role remarkably quickly: you can feel him chafing against the limits of life on Earth, and the only time he sounds perfectly at home is discussing the outer limits with a monk. Warner is also the most accessible of the Unbound Doctors, so it’s no surprise that his Doctor drew the most fan demands for a return — or indeed that those demands will apparently be satisfied.
The more obviously changed character is the Brigadier, who has retired to Hong Kong in disgrace after apparently being drummed out of the corps with an honorable discharge. Setting the play in 1997 also allows Nicholas Courtney to play up his age, and he brings a downtrodden, saddened Brigadier to the ear — but unlike his counterpart, he hasn’t fallen into the abyss of fatalism, as seen in his heroism as the play progresses. Courtney is stellar in the role, as this Brigadier bears his disgrace with a quiet dignity — but, like the Doctor, rises to the bait when challenged.
There are really only two significant supporting characters in Sympathy for the Devil, both of whom have great significance to Doctor Who as a whole. Ke Le, pronounced quite similarly to Keller, and usually known as the Master, is brought to the audio stage by the legendary actor Sam Kisgart, who bears a strong anagrammatical resemblance to one of the new series writers. “Kisgart” is exceptional — rather than the forthright nature of Delgado or Ainley, or the brink-of-death insanity of Beevers and Pratt, this Master absolutely relishes his mania. It’s smug, languid evil, and “Kisgart” pulls it off effortlessly — it shouldn’t, but it *works* so well when he says the classic Master lines. Second of the important supporting characters is Colonel Brimmicombe-Wood, played by upcoming tenth Doctor David Tennant. I wasn’t a particular fan of Tennant’s performance in Colditz, but here he’s amazing — the Colonel is as complex a military character as you’ll find, showing contempt for the Brigadier, sympathy for yet command over his underlings, and absolute desperation to escape at the conclusion. He’s also hilarious — his exhortation of a soldier to look at the sun and use it for light had me laughing. Unfortunately, the other supporting characters range from annoying to insignificant, but the story isn’t particularly concerned with them.
Gareth Jenkins provides some of the most “realistic” real-world sound design I’ve heard from Big Finish — the background sound is amazingly constructed, right up to the final scene. Andy Hardwick’s score is also well-produced, lending the play a suitably epic feel. And Gary Russell’s direction is its usual strong self: given the great number of characters and settings, he keeps the play on track and suitably pacy. The first two Unbound plays have had a more “immediate” feel than much of the main range — this is not to criticize the main range, but it does seem as though the Unbound range is structured to sound differently in more ways than just the script and lead actor.
Overall, Sympathy for the Devil is a strong second offering for the Unbound range. It’s not without its flaws, as such a complicated script will almost always have disappointing elements, but the acting and the production help make up for many deficiencies. 2003 was a wonderful year for Big Finish, and this play is just one of the many examples of why.
Highly recommended.
8/10.