Jago and Litefoot have defeated dangerous denizens of the dæmonic darkness together. They have stood side by side against threats to the British Empire. But when a body is found on the banks of the River Thames and Litefoot’s post mortum reveals that it is actually a highly detailed wooden mannequin, their most dangerous adventure begins… A new adventure in time and space as told by the Doctor’s friends, Henry Gordon Jago and Professor Litefoot.
THE COMPANION CHRONICLES: THE MAHOGANY MURDERERS
The early course of the Companion Chronicles saw them expand their horizons from stories featuring only the first four Doctors to stories throughout the history of Doctor Who with companions both famous and forgotten. The eleventh release of the third series, Andy Lane’s “The Mahogany Murderers,” extends the concept even more: neither the Doctor nor any of his companions feature in the story, which opts instead for Jago and Litefoot of “The Talons of Weng-Chiang” fame. It’s unquestionably a great story – and it served as a backdoor pilot for a successful audio spinoff – but it does suffer from one flaw: virtually nothing happens!
Henry Gordon Jago and Professor George Litefoot proved to be two of the most popular supporting characters in the entire history of the classic series, so much so that they were briefly considered for a spinoff TV show. And while “Talons” is all the evidence you need, it only takes about five minutes of “The Mahogany Murderers” to realize how much Christopher Benjamin and Trevor Baxter have been missed. It seems like the old rapport never left, so quickly do the two actors recapture their performances. The real star of the show, though, is Andy Lane, whose script uses the narrative itself as a storytelling device for the first time in the range. Lisa Bowerman appears briefly, but the vast majority of the story is told by Benjamin and Baxter, with the framing device the two men recounting the tale over dinner and drinks. When Litefoot narrates, the story is matter-of-fact, even clinical: details are precise, exaggeration is nowhere to be found. When Jago narrates, everything is described in luxurious, unnecessary, and often inaccurate detail. But rather than switching awkwardly between the framing device and the narrative, Lane’s characters listen to each other: interruptions abound, each character stopping the other to ask questions or correct inaccuracies. Litefoot starts to do voices, but Jago stops him, telling him he’d never cut it in the theater, and from then on he uses only his own! The greatest moment is the cliffhanger, when each man draws their story up to a dramatic conclusion – but the credits don’t roll until Jago begrudgingly admits that Litefoot’s was better! This is absolutely fantastic writing.
The flaw, of course, is with the plot itself. Fortunately, this isn’t very noticeable due to the performances and the writing, but while the wooden mannequins themselves are given plenty of description and horrific content, the scheme to implant the souls of prisoners into them is glossed over and they are defeated with almost laughable ease. The rest of the plot isn’t resolved at all, and while I know that’s left for the subsequent audio stories, it’s awfully unrewarding for people who expect these stories to be self-contained. It seems as though Lane knows all this, too, as even the narrators acknowledge that they double over each other from time to time, something that likely wouldn’t happen if the story was more involved. Plot isn’t everything, but we don’t learn much of anything, either – as great as it is to hear Jago and Litefoot back together, they’re exactly the same as they were on TV, and the story is far too slight to have any thematic resonance.
The production is first-rate: Bowerman’s direction, David Darlington’s sound design, and Lane’s script combine to accurately recapture the feel of “Talons,” one of the classic series’ most atmospheric stories. Overall, it’s impossible not to recommend this story, as the performances and the narrative are simply wonderful. But the story itself is paper-thin, and it even manages to drag in a couple of places. Not the work of staggering genius that its reputation implies, then, but successful nonetheless.
Highly recommended.
8/10