The Seventh Doctor and Ace are on the trail of a monster that knows their every move.
2 Comments
Styre
on May 7, 2016 at 10:09 PM
THE FEARMONGER
After a pair of flawed plays and a pair of releases that eventually managed the positive side of good quality, one could be forgiven for thinking that BF was never going to amount to anything more than a glorified series of fan productions — questionable scripts and productions made significant by the presence of original series actors. But all confidence in the range was restored by The Fearmonger, the first true home run in BF history and still possibly the best of all McCoy audios. Before listening to the play for this review, I had just finished a viewing of the McCoy era, and it is stunning just how well The Fearmonger would function as the first story of a hypothetical Season 27.
This is the first truly intelligent script produced by BF — not to say, of course, that the first four were necessarily childish or stupid, but only Gatiss’ Phantasmagoria attempted to rise above the bog-standard Doctor-vs.-the-monsters cliche. Here, we see an intelligent exploration of the role of perception in politics: not only do the characters hear the sound of the Fearmonger in various others’ voices, they also filter the statements of others through their own personal biases, just as do we all. Clearly, author Jonathan Blum resides firmly on the left, but I didn’t find the story preachy at all — the New Britannia Party is clearly founded on the concept of racial purity, and it’s hardly a condemnation of the right to say that such a philosophy is ill-conceived. Furthermore, the left has its own group of terrorists, carrying out so-called surgical strikes on New Britannia rallies and inadvertently causing violence and destruction of their own. That they’re revealed at the conclusion to be on the New Britannia payroll is somewhat disappointing — but then I suppose it’s necessary to retain any sense of optimism about the world.
The Fearmonger itself is a wonderful concept, and a brilliant use of the audio medium in much the same way as Justin Richards’ creation in Whispers of Terror. The final twist about the nature of the Fearmonger is equally surprising, though it seemed strangely familiar to me on first listen. Upon reading The Inside Story, though, and hearing Blum’s inspiration, all became clear: he conceived of the monster as a twist on the monster in the X-Files episode “Folie a Deux” — and when I first saw that episode, I’d had the same idea! Whether or not this means that I should attempt a writing career is unclear, but it certainly does mean that Jon Blum is a genius. But I digress.
Sylvester McCoy’s performance in this story might just be his best in the role, television included — he plays an absolutely amazing Doctor, brooding and threatening in equal measure. Blum’s script has a great deal to do with this, of course — this is not the full NA “dark Doctor,” but neither is it his television incarnation: he’s entered the situation with some knowledge of events and a vague plan of attack, but for the most part he’s still required to improvise. This is a Doctor haunted by mistakes and yet strangely wistful — his “But then I’m just a silly old man” line being arguably the best of the play.
As powerful as McCoy’s performance is, Sophie Aldred’s Ace is equally compelling. This is a more mature character — gone, for the most part, are the childish insults of the TV Ace — but she remains vulnerable. Ghost Light saw the Doctor trying, in part, to educate Ace in his methods, and that theme continues here, as he sends Ace on “initiative tests” that further underscore the unique nature of this Doctor/companion relationship. But Ace’s confidence gets the better of her, and the conclusion of episode 2 sees the ultimate reversal of the “Look me in the eye, end my life” scene from The Happiness Patrol and later Battlefield. This cliffhanger is stunning — one thing BF offers throughout its range is a series of cliffhangers superior to any offered by the original series, and this is the first of many excellent examples.
The supporting performances are equally strong. Jacqueline Pearce is suitably menacing as Sherilyn Harper; one gets the impression that, unlike The Two Doctors, Pearce actually understands what’s going on. Hugh Walters’ Roderick is slimy, but demonstrates surprising devotion at the play’s conclusion. Unfortunately, Mark McDonnell and Jonathan Clarkson sound somewhat similar, making scenes with both Walter and Paul somewhat confusing, but this is a minor problem. Vince Henderson has suffered a great deal of criticism for his portrayal of Mick Thompson, but I loved it — doesn’t anyone realize that talk-show hosts like Thompson are *supposed* to be annoying?
The sound design by Alistair Lock is the best of BF’s first five plays. There is never a time when the characters sound as though they’re in a recording studio — except, of course, when they actually are — and the ambient outdoor noises are an achievement. The subtle insertion of the Fearmonger voice track onto McCoy’s voice makes an excellent cliffhanger for episode 3, but the episode 1 cliffhanger marks yet another noise-becomes-deafening-just-before-credits-roll, something used far too often in the early days of BF.
Any complaints about The Fearmonger are minor. The Inside Story tells horror stories about the production of the play, but all involved should, ultimately, be very proud of what was produced, as it remains to this day one of Big Finish’s greatest productions.
In some corners of internet fandom, Jon Blum has made a reputation for himself as one of the more obnoxious and belligerent defenders of New Who, who makes no bones about his perma-sneery attitude to fandom as part of his argument as to why no-one else’s opinions matter. It’s the usual modus operandi- ignore any sensible points in the critical post and just quote the bits you disagree with to score points from, move the goal posts when convenient, use ratings to try and point out that the critic is in a minority, and be as derisive and aggravating as possible in order to provoke the critic into blowing their top and making a fool of themselves. It’s mainly the knee-jerk ubiquitousness of Jon’s behaviour towards complete strangers he’s in no position to judge that’s so annoying (mind you as sychophants go, Jon Blum comes across as a saint compared to vermin like Paul Mount, GB’s resident laughable bitter has-been of a Starburst reviewer who’s only joy in life apart from New Who, seems to be in kicking other people’s sandcastles). Yet whilst that’s all true, it’s clear from this story that Jon knows how to channel his obstinate narcissism and sycophancy to craft a very focused, concentrated and confident labour of love. The Fearmonger is a sparkling reminder of the creativity Jon is capable of when he’s not busy harassing straw men on GB.
The Fearmonger is a very well paced, very disciplined and incredibly confident story that particularly stands out as firing on all cylinders from the first go, at this early time when other BF writers seemed to still be finding their feet. At this point in time it’s a breath of fresh air, and you can hear how it heavily influenced both Time of the Daleks and Live 34. It’s clear that this was a dream opportunity for Jon to not only write for his favourite Doctor and companion but also to have it actually performed by the real McCoy.
Whereas most of the McCoy audios capture the feel of the McCoy era in a way that simply means the Seventh Doctor and Ace come across like they’ve never been away, this goes one further and actually hones the part of the McCoy era that really mattered to the fans, the final season that finally began to reward and justify the fans’ sorely tested perseverance and commitment to the show after enduring the critical mass of ugly nadirs that came before. Season 26 was the point where the show once again became important enough to be potentially life-changing, and as such it was a particularly frustrating and heartbreaking point to bring down the axe on the series (ending the show with Season 18 or 25 would have been a natural end point, and ending it anywhere in between would have been a mercy killing).
Jon Blum is a huge McCoy fan, and has always been a massive JNT apologist. For him the fact that John Nathan Turner kept the show going against the odds should be utterly applauded, because right to the end it was producing worthwhile and important gems that in Jon Blum’s eyes cancelled out any weaker stories. For him presumably the problem was that the 80’s was simply the wrong time and the wrong cultural climate for Doctor Who, and the JNT years were actually no more superficial, shallow, garish, hypocritical, nihilistic, mean spirited or excess-driven than the times themselves were. To him maybe the show only got into trouble in the 80’s because in spite of JNT’s stern wishes, it had dared to start getting political, in stories like Vengeance on Varos and Remembrance of the Daleks, and because maybe the public just wasn’t ready for stories like Black Orchid, Enlightenment, Caves of Androzani, Revelation of the Daleks and Survival that held a mirror to society at a time when people knew damn well that they were shallow, selfish and materialistic but they didn’t want anyone else pointing it out. But in the 90’s and beyond, this radical, political underground form of Doctor Who positively thrived in the New Adventures novels and The Fearmonger is actually the one audio that captures and articulates that ethos best, and leaves nothing unsaid. There’s such a density to this story that it doesn’t even seem to matter that the NA novels have now been deleted from publication because this story somehow seems to compensate for their loss alone, and to nail everything that those books had to say.
The opening scene recalls the Deadly Assassin, which is appropriate since this is a story firmly about media spin. The show’s frequency of excursions to Gallifrey and the token exposure of yet another corrupt Time Lord (which I’m sure we’ll have more to say on when we get to Zagreus) have really taken away from the impact of The Deadly Assassin and how it captured a new uncertain world where the media and education system could no longer be trusted, and the truth of the world suddenly seemed suspect, intangible and prone to being rewritten. This is one of many audio stories to come that takes the benchmark of Robert Holmes’ The Deadly Assassin and The Sunmakers, in being primarily concerned with the power of the media, and how it can be used to enrage or sedate a populace, to unify or to divide the masses, to empower the common man or make helpless pariahs of the lesser and prejudiced, and how it can ignite the flames of revolution, or it can saturate people with so much information and politics that it all becomes an ambiguous, meaningless blur that demoralises political motivation. It’s something that will run right through Neverland, Jubilee, Davros, The Natural History of Fear, Live 34, The Reaping, Dalek Empire, Gallifrey and ultimately Masters of War. Infact whilst this might belong with the magical realism stories of the McCoy era, it feels very earthy and real, to the point where it even sounds and feels like a documentary. And that’s what especially makes this story stand out and demand to be taken seriously amidst the rather more traditional sci-fi pulp audios at this time.
The performances too sell the reality of it consistently. Sylvester McCoy gives one of his best performances as the Doctor here, making an unforgettable sting of an impression in each scene. For all I might sometimes knock her, Sophie Aldred was superb when given the more naturalist and raw material of the BBV audios (managing to beautifully play the kind of sensitive material that could so easily have come across as sensationalist and tasteless in lesser hands), and given the strong material here she absolutely shines.
Whilst this brings back the feel of the McCoy era, it also takes great care to acknowledge and overcome the conceptual limitations of the period. The Doctor’s first scene with the radio presenter is an intriguing opening, even if it feels like we’ve arrived a bit late in the story, and it establishes the Seventh Doctor’s omnipotent manipulator trademark from the get-go. To be fair this is done by placing him against rather weak opposition. If the Doctor was going up against a really formidable and aggressive right wing talking head modelled after a real media bullyboy like Bill O’Reilly, then we’d have a far stronger hook. But no matter, because the Doctor’s principle enemy is far greater, and the story exposes the point that there’s no sense in having the Doctor be an omnipotent superbeing unless his enemy is a serious match for him. As such whilst much of the story’s content is as rhetorical as one would expect Jon’s writing to be, the art and craft is in how the story gets it all to collide and conflict and ultimately dovetail. In this story the Doctor is up against something nebulous and idea based that can’t be killed, and this is what makes the story so compelling and gets the listener’s anticipation from the beginning. It’s the same way the excellent midway cliffhanger exposes the usual naivety of the McCoy era by showing what happens when the ‘look me in the eye, pull the trigger, end my life’ empathy trick doesn’t work in the real world. This isn’t just a gratuitous cliffhanger moment though. It defines the story’s theme of how communication is failing in a society ruled by fear and paranoia, where words can become a weapon to instigate chaos and hatred or to emotionally beat down any dissenters and outsiders with esteem-crushing rhetoric and moral superiority, so no-one dares listen anymore. It also defines the predicament of Ace and the supporting heroes, afflicted by handicaps, both physical and metaphorical, and firing blind against an unseen enemy.
The presence of a poisonous mind parasite feels like a lovely throwback to the Audio Visual days, and as a concept it still works so well in the audio medium on a primal level in the mind’s eye. And just like the Daleks, the main reason the mind parasite works as an enemy is the sense that it represents us, it represents the thoroughly nasty aspects of the human mind unleashed, as if surgically removed from the more tempering and reasoning, redeeming aspects of man. That what the alien is void of is what makes it more terrifying than what it does possess, and it’s an idea that will be revisited to chilling effect in the later Seventh Doctor story Red. So in the tradition of Doctor Who at its best, it’s a monstrous concept that’s terrifying and yet at the same time really optimistically affirms all that is good and redemptive about humanity.
But of course this would be nothing if it weren’t directly connected to very real issues of the day. George Orwell’s 1984 concept of being punished for ‘thought crimes’ might sound like sci-fi absurdity, but ask any of the Magdelene Sisters and they’ll tell you it really happened to them. Likewise in The Fearmonger the telepathic parasite can destroy minds, but so can the very real world cults that the story is really about. The Fearmonger is actively about the destructive power of poisonous, predatory, manipulative leaders and vindictive, accusatory, bottom feeding people who run and raleigh cults, lynch mobs and supremacist groups and the damage they can do to society by demonising people and raleighing insecure people that have little identity into unthinking collective hate. The way they can make a destructive, insane idea into something self-sustaining and transferrable from person to person. Accusatory behaviour and rhetoric is always the tool used by the most evil, destructive people in history. Hysterical, vulgar people fixated with maddening degrees of control, painting the world black and white, and enforcing arbitary rules, cultivating hate, fear and guilt, playing on the worst aspects of humanity and presenting a world view plagued by an overblown perception of sin and destroying all hope of anything better. People who can destroy personal development, destroy communities and communication and all capacity for reason, cultivating disillusioning and impenetrable all-consuming contempt, leaving people in monologue rather than dialogue and forcing the pariahs they persecute onto a dead end path of depravity and self-destruction from having nothing to lose or being trapped in a mental cage of guilt complexes.
Indeed the story’s scattered locations compliments this sense of a society that’s divided and falling apart and descending into internecine conflict and anarchy, although these are disparate elements that gradually dovetail beautifully. The Fearmonger is about the horror of what happens when these ideas become normalised and virtually mainstream, and how decent, noble people are forced to go underground into guerrilla lawlessness, but stand little hope of doing anything except playing into the enemy’s hands, the same way terrorists always end up making things worse by only destroying any sympathy or credibility for their cause and provoking their opponents to cause more destruction to hunt them down, and creating the state of fear that makes the people gravitate more to the protection of the government. This is of course why this world needs the Doctor, someone wisened by centuries’ experience, and who can second guess the enemy and do the unpredictable.
It’s no surprise that such issues should be at the forefront of Jon Blum’s writing, given that he spent many years on the rec.arts.drwho online newsgroup and watched it degenerate into a repulsive haven for trolls, flame wars and some utterly reprehensible racist and homophobic propaganda. It’s clear why Jon Blum had to get that exposure to such poisonous rhetoric out of his system, and why he’s developed a distain for any signs of fandom’s tendency to degenerate into lynch mob thinking and the blame game. But here it’s all articulated in a way that’s raw and yet so affirming and right.
The fascist characters of Remembrance of the Daleks, Made in Britain and American History X (which I consider to be the definitive information age movie) all subscribed to some warped sense of utilitarianism, and all articulated the fears that the white working classes were being criminalised and made to apologise for their nationality in a society ran by pervasive guilt, and they all asked the difficult question of why the right to freedom of speech stops when it comes to racist or fascist views, and even watching Remembrance of the Daleks at the age of 11 (it was my Christmas present that year), the story seriously got me to ponder if Ratcliffe had a point. This story gives the best answer to that conundrum by showing the spreading unending madness that ensues when this hateful rhetoric isn’t nipped in the bud at the earliest point. When frustrated people are captivated by bottom feeding ideas, they can never stop digging or ever come to the end because there is no end and no victory, it’s an unrelenting bottomless pit. Racist attitudes are never something that can be easily purged or forgiven. We’ve been trying to eradicate fascism as an idea for nearly a century but the idea just still won’t die.
This is all going on the first three acts of the play and there seems to be a risk that the story has dealt its hand too much already and by giving us too much, maybe it now has little left up its sleeve to surprise us or maintain the intrigue at a point where it needs to deal its biggest hand. But with rioting mobs colliding amidst a media circus, and the Doctor at his weakest as his masterplan seems to go wrong as the monster finds its main target, there’s no way the ending couldn’t be a climax. Ultimately we get a hard-hitting spiralling apex of panic where brilliant performances come to a beautiful head, and it leaves us both exhausted and satisfied.
In some ways it’s a shame that it doesn’t look like Jon is going to get that writing job on New Who that he’s clearly touting for, because frankly this would make a wonderful adaptation for television, it’s sharp and pacy whilst still being cerebral and intelligent and is as contemporary and relevant today as it was when first released. Mind you, if that did happen we’d never hear the end of its AA figures would we?
THE FEARMONGER
After a pair of flawed plays and a pair of releases that eventually managed the positive side of good quality, one could be forgiven for thinking that BF was never going to amount to anything more than a glorified series of fan productions — questionable scripts and productions made significant by the presence of original series actors. But all confidence in the range was restored by The Fearmonger, the first true home run in BF history and still possibly the best of all McCoy audios. Before listening to the play for this review, I had just finished a viewing of the McCoy era, and it is stunning just how well The Fearmonger would function as the first story of a hypothetical Season 27.
This is the first truly intelligent script produced by BF — not to say, of course, that the first four were necessarily childish or stupid, but only Gatiss’ Phantasmagoria attempted to rise above the bog-standard Doctor-vs.-the-monsters cliche. Here, we see an intelligent exploration of the role of perception in politics: not only do the characters hear the sound of the Fearmonger in various others’ voices, they also filter the statements of others through their own personal biases, just as do we all. Clearly, author Jonathan Blum resides firmly on the left, but I didn’t find the story preachy at all — the New Britannia Party is clearly founded on the concept of racial purity, and it’s hardly a condemnation of the right to say that such a philosophy is ill-conceived. Furthermore, the left has its own group of terrorists, carrying out so-called surgical strikes on New Britannia rallies and inadvertently causing violence and destruction of their own. That they’re revealed at the conclusion to be on the New Britannia payroll is somewhat disappointing — but then I suppose it’s necessary to retain any sense of optimism about the world.
The Fearmonger itself is a wonderful concept, and a brilliant use of the audio medium in much the same way as Justin Richards’ creation in Whispers of Terror. The final twist about the nature of the Fearmonger is equally surprising, though it seemed strangely familiar to me on first listen. Upon reading The Inside Story, though, and hearing Blum’s inspiration, all became clear: he conceived of the monster as a twist on the monster in the X-Files episode “Folie a Deux” — and when I first saw that episode, I’d had the same idea! Whether or not this means that I should attempt a writing career is unclear, but it certainly does mean that Jon Blum is a genius. But I digress.
Sylvester McCoy’s performance in this story might just be his best in the role, television included — he plays an absolutely amazing Doctor, brooding and threatening in equal measure. Blum’s script has a great deal to do with this, of course — this is not the full NA “dark Doctor,” but neither is it his television incarnation: he’s entered the situation with some knowledge of events and a vague plan of attack, but for the most part he’s still required to improvise. This is a Doctor haunted by mistakes and yet strangely wistful — his “But then I’m just a silly old man” line being arguably the best of the play.
As powerful as McCoy’s performance is, Sophie Aldred’s Ace is equally compelling. This is a more mature character — gone, for the most part, are the childish insults of the TV Ace — but she remains vulnerable. Ghost Light saw the Doctor trying, in part, to educate Ace in his methods, and that theme continues here, as he sends Ace on “initiative tests” that further underscore the unique nature of this Doctor/companion relationship. But Ace’s confidence gets the better of her, and the conclusion of episode 2 sees the ultimate reversal of the “Look me in the eye, end my life” scene from The Happiness Patrol and later Battlefield. This cliffhanger is stunning — one thing BF offers throughout its range is a series of cliffhangers superior to any offered by the original series, and this is the first of many excellent examples.
The supporting performances are equally strong. Jacqueline Pearce is suitably menacing as Sherilyn Harper; one gets the impression that, unlike The Two Doctors, Pearce actually understands what’s going on. Hugh Walters’ Roderick is slimy, but demonstrates surprising devotion at the play’s conclusion. Unfortunately, Mark McDonnell and Jonathan Clarkson sound somewhat similar, making scenes with both Walter and Paul somewhat confusing, but this is a minor problem. Vince Henderson has suffered a great deal of criticism for his portrayal of Mick Thompson, but I loved it — doesn’t anyone realize that talk-show hosts like Thompson are *supposed* to be annoying?
The sound design by Alistair Lock is the best of BF’s first five plays. There is never a time when the characters sound as though they’re in a recording studio — except, of course, when they actually are — and the ambient outdoor noises are an achievement. The subtle insertion of the Fearmonger voice track onto McCoy’s voice makes an excellent cliffhanger for episode 3, but the episode 1 cliffhanger marks yet another noise-becomes-deafening-just-before-credits-roll, something used far too often in the early days of BF.
Any complaints about The Fearmonger are minor. The Inside Story tells horror stories about the production of the play, but all involved should, ultimately, be very proud of what was produced, as it remains to this day one of Big Finish’s greatest productions.
An almost flawless release.
10/10
“The nerve of some people.”
In some corners of internet fandom, Jon Blum has made a reputation for himself as one of the more obnoxious and belligerent defenders of New Who, who makes no bones about his perma-sneery attitude to fandom as part of his argument as to why no-one else’s opinions matter. It’s the usual modus operandi- ignore any sensible points in the critical post and just quote the bits you disagree with to score points from, move the goal posts when convenient, use ratings to try and point out that the critic is in a minority, and be as derisive and aggravating as possible in order to provoke the critic into blowing their top and making a fool of themselves. It’s mainly the knee-jerk ubiquitousness of Jon’s behaviour towards complete strangers he’s in no position to judge that’s so annoying (mind you as sychophants go, Jon Blum comes across as a saint compared to vermin like Paul Mount, GB’s resident laughable bitter has-been of a Starburst reviewer who’s only joy in life apart from New Who, seems to be in kicking other people’s sandcastles). Yet whilst that’s all true, it’s clear from this story that Jon knows how to channel his obstinate narcissism and sycophancy to craft a very focused, concentrated and confident labour of love. The Fearmonger is a sparkling reminder of the creativity Jon is capable of when he’s not busy harassing straw men on GB.
The Fearmonger is a very well paced, very disciplined and incredibly confident story that particularly stands out as firing on all cylinders from the first go, at this early time when other BF writers seemed to still be finding their feet. At this point in time it’s a breath of fresh air, and you can hear how it heavily influenced both Time of the Daleks and Live 34. It’s clear that this was a dream opportunity for Jon to not only write for his favourite Doctor and companion but also to have it actually performed by the real McCoy.
Whereas most of the McCoy audios capture the feel of the McCoy era in a way that simply means the Seventh Doctor and Ace come across like they’ve never been away, this goes one further and actually hones the part of the McCoy era that really mattered to the fans, the final season that finally began to reward and justify the fans’ sorely tested perseverance and commitment to the show after enduring the critical mass of ugly nadirs that came before. Season 26 was the point where the show once again became important enough to be potentially life-changing, and as such it was a particularly frustrating and heartbreaking point to bring down the axe on the series (ending the show with Season 18 or 25 would have been a natural end point, and ending it anywhere in between would have been a mercy killing).
Jon Blum is a huge McCoy fan, and has always been a massive JNT apologist. For him the fact that John Nathan Turner kept the show going against the odds should be utterly applauded, because right to the end it was producing worthwhile and important gems that in Jon Blum’s eyes cancelled out any weaker stories. For him presumably the problem was that the 80’s was simply the wrong time and the wrong cultural climate for Doctor Who, and the JNT years were actually no more superficial, shallow, garish, hypocritical, nihilistic, mean spirited or excess-driven than the times themselves were. To him maybe the show only got into trouble in the 80’s because in spite of JNT’s stern wishes, it had dared to start getting political, in stories like Vengeance on Varos and Remembrance of the Daleks, and because maybe the public just wasn’t ready for stories like Black Orchid, Enlightenment, Caves of Androzani, Revelation of the Daleks and Survival that held a mirror to society at a time when people knew damn well that they were shallow, selfish and materialistic but they didn’t want anyone else pointing it out. But in the 90’s and beyond, this radical, political underground form of Doctor Who positively thrived in the New Adventures novels and The Fearmonger is actually the one audio that captures and articulates that ethos best, and leaves nothing unsaid. There’s such a density to this story that it doesn’t even seem to matter that the NA novels have now been deleted from publication because this story somehow seems to compensate for their loss alone, and to nail everything that those books had to say.
The opening scene recalls the Deadly Assassin, which is appropriate since this is a story firmly about media spin. The show’s frequency of excursions to Gallifrey and the token exposure of yet another corrupt Time Lord (which I’m sure we’ll have more to say on when we get to Zagreus) have really taken away from the impact of The Deadly Assassin and how it captured a new uncertain world where the media and education system could no longer be trusted, and the truth of the world suddenly seemed suspect, intangible and prone to being rewritten. This is one of many audio stories to come that takes the benchmark of Robert Holmes’ The Deadly Assassin and The Sunmakers, in being primarily concerned with the power of the media, and how it can be used to enrage or sedate a populace, to unify or to divide the masses, to empower the common man or make helpless pariahs of the lesser and prejudiced, and how it can ignite the flames of revolution, or it can saturate people with so much information and politics that it all becomes an ambiguous, meaningless blur that demoralises political motivation. It’s something that will run right through Neverland, Jubilee, Davros, The Natural History of Fear, Live 34, The Reaping, Dalek Empire, Gallifrey and ultimately Masters of War. Infact whilst this might belong with the magical realism stories of the McCoy era, it feels very earthy and real, to the point where it even sounds and feels like a documentary. And that’s what especially makes this story stand out and demand to be taken seriously amidst the rather more traditional sci-fi pulp audios at this time.
The performances too sell the reality of it consistently. Sylvester McCoy gives one of his best performances as the Doctor here, making an unforgettable sting of an impression in each scene. For all I might sometimes knock her, Sophie Aldred was superb when given the more naturalist and raw material of the BBV audios (managing to beautifully play the kind of sensitive material that could so easily have come across as sensationalist and tasteless in lesser hands), and given the strong material here she absolutely shines.
Whilst this brings back the feel of the McCoy era, it also takes great care to acknowledge and overcome the conceptual limitations of the period. The Doctor’s first scene with the radio presenter is an intriguing opening, even if it feels like we’ve arrived a bit late in the story, and it establishes the Seventh Doctor’s omnipotent manipulator trademark from the get-go. To be fair this is done by placing him against rather weak opposition. If the Doctor was going up against a really formidable and aggressive right wing talking head modelled after a real media bullyboy like Bill O’Reilly, then we’d have a far stronger hook. But no matter, because the Doctor’s principle enemy is far greater, and the story exposes the point that there’s no sense in having the Doctor be an omnipotent superbeing unless his enemy is a serious match for him. As such whilst much of the story’s content is as rhetorical as one would expect Jon’s writing to be, the art and craft is in how the story gets it all to collide and conflict and ultimately dovetail. In this story the Doctor is up against something nebulous and idea based that can’t be killed, and this is what makes the story so compelling and gets the listener’s anticipation from the beginning. It’s the same way the excellent midway cliffhanger exposes the usual naivety of the McCoy era by showing what happens when the ‘look me in the eye, pull the trigger, end my life’ empathy trick doesn’t work in the real world. This isn’t just a gratuitous cliffhanger moment though. It defines the story’s theme of how communication is failing in a society ruled by fear and paranoia, where words can become a weapon to instigate chaos and hatred or to emotionally beat down any dissenters and outsiders with esteem-crushing rhetoric and moral superiority, so no-one dares listen anymore. It also defines the predicament of Ace and the supporting heroes, afflicted by handicaps, both physical and metaphorical, and firing blind against an unseen enemy.
The presence of a poisonous mind parasite feels like a lovely throwback to the Audio Visual days, and as a concept it still works so well in the audio medium on a primal level in the mind’s eye. And just like the Daleks, the main reason the mind parasite works as an enemy is the sense that it represents us, it represents the thoroughly nasty aspects of the human mind unleashed, as if surgically removed from the more tempering and reasoning, redeeming aspects of man. That what the alien is void of is what makes it more terrifying than what it does possess, and it’s an idea that will be revisited to chilling effect in the later Seventh Doctor story Red. So in the tradition of Doctor Who at its best, it’s a monstrous concept that’s terrifying and yet at the same time really optimistically affirms all that is good and redemptive about humanity.
But of course this would be nothing if it weren’t directly connected to very real issues of the day. George Orwell’s 1984 concept of being punished for ‘thought crimes’ might sound like sci-fi absurdity, but ask any of the Magdelene Sisters and they’ll tell you it really happened to them. Likewise in The Fearmonger the telepathic parasite can destroy minds, but so can the very real world cults that the story is really about. The Fearmonger is actively about the destructive power of poisonous, predatory, manipulative leaders and vindictive, accusatory, bottom feeding people who run and raleigh cults, lynch mobs and supremacist groups and the damage they can do to society by demonising people and raleighing insecure people that have little identity into unthinking collective hate. The way they can make a destructive, insane idea into something self-sustaining and transferrable from person to person. Accusatory behaviour and rhetoric is always the tool used by the most evil, destructive people in history. Hysterical, vulgar people fixated with maddening degrees of control, painting the world black and white, and enforcing arbitary rules, cultivating hate, fear and guilt, playing on the worst aspects of humanity and presenting a world view plagued by an overblown perception of sin and destroying all hope of anything better. People who can destroy personal development, destroy communities and communication and all capacity for reason, cultivating disillusioning and impenetrable all-consuming contempt, leaving people in monologue rather than dialogue and forcing the pariahs they persecute onto a dead end path of depravity and self-destruction from having nothing to lose or being trapped in a mental cage of guilt complexes.
Indeed the story’s scattered locations compliments this sense of a society that’s divided and falling apart and descending into internecine conflict and anarchy, although these are disparate elements that gradually dovetail beautifully. The Fearmonger is about the horror of what happens when these ideas become normalised and virtually mainstream, and how decent, noble people are forced to go underground into guerrilla lawlessness, but stand little hope of doing anything except playing into the enemy’s hands, the same way terrorists always end up making things worse by only destroying any sympathy or credibility for their cause and provoking their opponents to cause more destruction to hunt them down, and creating the state of fear that makes the people gravitate more to the protection of the government. This is of course why this world needs the Doctor, someone wisened by centuries’ experience, and who can second guess the enemy and do the unpredictable.
It’s no surprise that such issues should be at the forefront of Jon Blum’s writing, given that he spent many years on the rec.arts.drwho online newsgroup and watched it degenerate into a repulsive haven for trolls, flame wars and some utterly reprehensible racist and homophobic propaganda. It’s clear why Jon Blum had to get that exposure to such poisonous rhetoric out of his system, and why he’s developed a distain for any signs of fandom’s tendency to degenerate into lynch mob thinking and the blame game. But here it’s all articulated in a way that’s raw and yet so affirming and right.
The fascist characters of Remembrance of the Daleks, Made in Britain and American History X (which I consider to be the definitive information age movie) all subscribed to some warped sense of utilitarianism, and all articulated the fears that the white working classes were being criminalised and made to apologise for their nationality in a society ran by pervasive guilt, and they all asked the difficult question of why the right to freedom of speech stops when it comes to racist or fascist views, and even watching Remembrance of the Daleks at the age of 11 (it was my Christmas present that year), the story seriously got me to ponder if Ratcliffe had a point. This story gives the best answer to that conundrum by showing the spreading unending madness that ensues when this hateful rhetoric isn’t nipped in the bud at the earliest point. When frustrated people are captivated by bottom feeding ideas, they can never stop digging or ever come to the end because there is no end and no victory, it’s an unrelenting bottomless pit. Racist attitudes are never something that can be easily purged or forgiven. We’ve been trying to eradicate fascism as an idea for nearly a century but the idea just still won’t die.
This is all going on the first three acts of the play and there seems to be a risk that the story has dealt its hand too much already and by giving us too much, maybe it now has little left up its sleeve to surprise us or maintain the intrigue at a point where it needs to deal its biggest hand. But with rioting mobs colliding amidst a media circus, and the Doctor at his weakest as his masterplan seems to go wrong as the monster finds its main target, there’s no way the ending couldn’t be a climax. Ultimately we get a hard-hitting spiralling apex of panic where brilliant performances come to a beautiful head, and it leaves us both exhausted and satisfied.
In some ways it’s a shame that it doesn’t look like Jon is going to get that writing job on New Who that he’s clearly touting for, because frankly this would make a wonderful adaptation for television, it’s sharp and pacy whilst still being cerebral and intelligent and is as contemporary and relevant today as it was when first released. Mind you, if that did happen we’d never hear the end of its AA figures would we?