The Fifth Doctor and Turlough confront the paranormal in 18th Century London.
1 Comment
Styre
on May 7, 2016 at 10:07 PM
PHANTASMAGORIA
After the crushing disappointment that was The Sirens of Time, the Big Finish series picks itself off the ground with Phantasmagoria, a marked improvement that ably demonstrates the potential of the range while simultaneously illustrating its limitations. This is a fine script, full of atmosphere and wit, but its unfortunate descent into predictability at the conclusion renders it forgettable.
Though I’m totally unfamiliar with the League of Gentlemen — and hence the source material for the episode — writer Mark Gatiss provides some stunning period work combined with a somewhat innovative plot: a mysterious card game taking place at the Diabola club coincident with mysterious disappearances. The early 18th century setting is striking, populated with the sorts of grotesque characters that would later appear in Gatiss’ Invaders from Mars. Gatiss himself is hilarious as Jasper Jeapes, and the script provides for a fine double act between Jeapes and David Walliams’ Quincy Flowers. David Ryall, meanwhile, steals the show as Nikolas Valentine; in a more serious story his constant cackling might jar, but here it fits the tone well and allows the actor to take over the play.
This story marked the first full-time return of Peter Davison to the role of the Doctor, and he acquits himself well, if somewhat quietly. The Doctor on display in this story is withdrawn and contemplative — he spends virtually the entire time out of reach of the enemy, every inch the detective as he works out Valentine’s scheme. Of course, this performance and situation jars horribly with Season 21 as seen on television, but as that is a constant factor in basically every BF Season 21 story, it’s not worth much complaint. Mark Strickson, meanwhile, picks up the role of Turlough with very little trouble, even restraining his as-seen-on-TV tendency to overact. It’s also a pleasure to listen to Steven Wickham’s Dr. Holywell, whose interactions with the Doctor bring a smile to the face.
Unfortunately, this play is not without its flaws. Though the needless expository dialogue runs rampant through the four episodes, it at least feels more natural than in Sirens of Time. That being said, it is apparent that, at this stage, the BF editors lacked the experience to edit their authors to show, not tell. Strickson in particular is lumbered with some ridiculous lines throughout the first two parts, and the whole “My gun has melted like lead!” business is silly.
The plot, so atmospheric and gripping over the play’s first half, rapidly degenerates into bog-standard Who in the final part. Though I do agree that rational explanations should be at the heart of most Who stories, Gatiss takes this theory a step too far, undermining his eerie Valentine character by making him a run-of-the-mill alien criminal on the run. Throw in a daughter looking for revenge and a heroic sacrifice and the state of affairs goes from “This is really quite good” to “There’s nothing original about this at all” in a heartbeat.
It’s really a shame that Phantasmagoria was written in this way, for at its heart there is a great story waiting to be told. Some have speculated (without, I gather, any basis for comment) that Gatiss’ new series story will be quite similar to this — if this is true, I can only hope that his rewrite will include only the best elements. If not, well, we’re left with this story on its own, a fine example of traditional Doctor Who that severely lets down on the promise of the opening episodes.
PHANTASMAGORIA
After the crushing disappointment that was The Sirens of Time, the Big Finish series picks itself off the ground with Phantasmagoria, a marked improvement that ably demonstrates the potential of the range while simultaneously illustrating its limitations. This is a fine script, full of atmosphere and wit, but its unfortunate descent into predictability at the conclusion renders it forgettable.
Though I’m totally unfamiliar with the League of Gentlemen — and hence the source material for the episode — writer Mark Gatiss provides some stunning period work combined with a somewhat innovative plot: a mysterious card game taking place at the Diabola club coincident with mysterious disappearances. The early 18th century setting is striking, populated with the sorts of grotesque characters that would later appear in Gatiss’ Invaders from Mars. Gatiss himself is hilarious as Jasper Jeapes, and the script provides for a fine double act between Jeapes and David Walliams’ Quincy Flowers. David Ryall, meanwhile, steals the show as Nikolas Valentine; in a more serious story his constant cackling might jar, but here it fits the tone well and allows the actor to take over the play.
This story marked the first full-time return of Peter Davison to the role of the Doctor, and he acquits himself well, if somewhat quietly. The Doctor on display in this story is withdrawn and contemplative — he spends virtually the entire time out of reach of the enemy, every inch the detective as he works out Valentine’s scheme. Of course, this performance and situation jars horribly with Season 21 as seen on television, but as that is a constant factor in basically every BF Season 21 story, it’s not worth much complaint. Mark Strickson, meanwhile, picks up the role of Turlough with very little trouble, even restraining his as-seen-on-TV tendency to overact. It’s also a pleasure to listen to Steven Wickham’s Dr. Holywell, whose interactions with the Doctor bring a smile to the face.
Unfortunately, this play is not without its flaws. Though the needless expository dialogue runs rampant through the four episodes, it at least feels more natural than in Sirens of Time. That being said, it is apparent that, at this stage, the BF editors lacked the experience to edit their authors to show, not tell. Strickson in particular is lumbered with some ridiculous lines throughout the first two parts, and the whole “My gun has melted like lead!” business is silly.
The plot, so atmospheric and gripping over the play’s first half, rapidly degenerates into bog-standard Who in the final part. Though I do agree that rational explanations should be at the heart of most Who stories, Gatiss takes this theory a step too far, undermining his eerie Valentine character by making him a run-of-the-mill alien criminal on the run. Throw in a daughter looking for revenge and a heroic sacrifice and the state of affairs goes from “This is really quite good” to “There’s nothing original about this at all” in a heartbeat.
It’s really a shame that Phantasmagoria was written in this way, for at its heart there is a great story waiting to be told. Some have speculated (without, I gather, any basis for comment) that Gatiss’ new series story will be quite similar to this — if this is true, I can only hope that his rewrite will include only the best elements. If not, well, we’re left with this story on its own, a fine example of traditional Doctor Who that severely lets down on the promise of the opening episodes.
6/10