The Eighth Doctor and Charley arrive in Venice in the far future and become intangled in a web love, lies, death and an ancient curse.
The Eighth Doctor and Charley arrive in Venice in the far future and become intangled in a web love, lies, death and an ancient curse.
THE STONES OF VENICE
It is of course a terrible shame that Tom Baker has thus far refused to appear in any Big Finish productions, but the company’s attempts to obtain Baker’s services may be the most serendipitous in their history. Not only was The Holy Terror — one of the best plays in the history of the range — sent to Baker, so was Paul Magrs’ The Stones of Venice, and its adaptation for Paul McGann provides the first season with its only truly successful play.
Of course, the common complaint with The Stones of Venice is that it doesn’t encompass a particularly large or complex plot. This is true, but as with every Magrs work, an intricate plot is secondary to a literary atmosphere. Granted, Magrs’ style may be more effective in prose than in audio, but The Stones of Venice is by far the most lyrical of Big Finish’s first seventeen releases. McGann is given long statement-of-purpose speeches to deliver, but these are neither arch nor annoying, instead being rather easy on the ears. “If I didn’t believe [there was a way to put things right] I wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning, I wouldn’t eat breakfast, I wouldn’t leave the TARDIS, ever. I would never have left home. There is always something we can do.” It’s not terribly naturalistic writing but it is nonetheless strikingly appealing, without ever coming across as trite or self-aware.
If Magrs’ dialogue is excellent, his setting is utterly superb. Venice immediately prior to its final descent into the sea is an inspired choice, and Magrs’ decision to fill the city with apocalyptic revelers is brilliant. True, the plot is relatively simplistic, but it resonates thematically, the driving force of love enough to bring down or to save a city. Yes, the scheme of the gondoliers is somewhat silly, but the image of the Venetian canal people evolving to match their environment is delightful. There’s evil high priests, lovelorn old dukes, and creatures in the water, and it’s all got this gloriously magical air that makes one ignore the shortcomings of the plot.
This was McGann’s first performance in the role of the eighth Doctor since the TV movie in 1996, and one can detect a hint of tentativeness from time to time in his acting. This is also the best characterization for his Doctor in the first season, though, and here the Doctor’s constant enthusiasm is tempered with a dry wit, subtle hints of sarcasm drifting in and out of his lines. It’s easy to see why McGann was sold on the series with this script — he’s clearly enjoying every minute, and his performance imparts this to the listener.
This is also a much better outing for India Fisher, as Charley is actually heard to be somewhat out of her depth, her condescension left to be directed at the Doctor. She’s given the bulk of Magrs’ typical deconstructionist lines, critically assessing her role as companion at every opportunity. Yet she’s still far too over the top, and as with every other performance of hers as Charley, the constant enthusiasm becomes incredibly irritating after far too little time.
As supporting casts go, this is one of Big Finish’s greatest outings. Michael Sheard, veteran of a million and one Doctor Who stories, performs here with his sixth different Doctor, and turns in a wonderfully melodramatic performance as the haunted Duke Orsino. Elaine Ives Cameron is excellent as the aptly-named Ms. Lavish, while Nick Scovell’s Churchwell strikes a perfect chord as a quasi-companion to the Doctor in the museum. The star of the show is undoubtedly Mark Gatiss, though, as his Vincenzo is hilariously over the top yet never compromising to the integrity of proceedings.
I’ve lauded Russell Stone’s music before, but I must do so again, as he outdoes himself with a note-perfect score. This, coupled with Alistair Lock’s accomplished sound design creates a perfect representation of a Venice on its last legs. Gary Russell offers another solid effort as director, producing a play that can barely be described as anything other than “lyrical.”
This isn’t a perfect outing for Paul McGann — as outlined above, the plot is somewhat thin and the narrative structure is questionable — but the flaws are incredibly difficult to notice. When I first heard The Stones of Venice, I realized it sounded exactly as I’d expect a Paul Magrs novel to sound if taken to the audio medium. Perhaps it’s the quality of the surrounding material that makes this play seem so amazing, but The Stones of Venice is the first true triumph for the Paul McGann range.
Strongly recommended.
8/10