Returning to their own Universe, the Eighth Doctor, Charley and C’Rizz confront the Daleks and their creator, Davros.
Returning to their own Universe, the Eighth Doctor, Charley and C’Rizz confront the Daleks and their creator, Davros.
TERROR FIRMA
With the advent of the new series on television, Big Finish’s ongoing eighth Doctor “seasons” were forced to draw to a close. However, this did not end their relationship with Paul McGann, whose plays were subsequently combined with the other past Doctors and released separately. We knew from the (silly) cliffhanger ending to The Next Life that the first “standalone” McGann audio would feature Davros and the Daleks, but how? Enter controversial Who author Joseph Lidster, writer of the uneven “The Rapture,” the sublime “Master,” and several exceptional short stories. The result was exactly what we’ve come to expect from Lidster: a divisive story with brilliant ideas, skillful characterization, and questionable plotting — but above all, a production of very high quality.
The audio releases of late have been marked by a number of flaws, but even with the recent high-quality release “The Council of Nicaea,” I’d been awaiting the next successful story with ambition. Terror Firma comes through here in spades, as Lidster takes the Doctor/Davros relationship through to its terrifying conclusion: a Davros so consumed by his hatred and insanity that he makes it his final mission to destroy and humiliate the Doctor. And unlike the Master, Davros is clearly resourceful enough to pull this off: we’ve already seen in Lance Parkin’s “Davros” how the character can work his way into a position of power within days of his introduction; here, Davros, starting from a position of almost complete helplessness, gains control of the Doctor’s companions and eventually uses them to turn the Earth’s population into an army of Daleks. When this happens, or even if the takeover is as complete as Davros thinks, isn’t the point — the point is how well Davros knows the Doctor, and the way in which his scheme cuts to the very core of his nemesis is truly horrifying.
But then Davros has lost his sanity, and so he is conflicted over several desires: he wants to bring down the Doctor, he wants to be reborn in a new body, and he also wants to die — and underneath it all is the absence of his humanity, the Dalek Emperor at his core waiting to emerge. Knowing his character is unable to make a final decision, Lidster has Davros put the choice in the hands of the Doctor: after stripping away everything the Doctor holds dear, Davros presents him with the virus discussed in “Genesis of the Daleks” and offers him the chance to break the glass. And it is here that Lidster shows us the ultimate difference between the Doctor and Davros, the foundation of the conflict that started in Genesis and has continued throughout the series to this moment: the Doctor is capable of redemption. As such, even at the deepest depths of despair, the Doctor will never release the virus, proving that Davros’ efforts to bring the Doctor down to his level can never succeed. Barred the release of death, it is thus no surprise that Davros is consumed by the Dalek Emperor personality when his clone is destroyed — he cannot regain his humanity and whatever aspects of it remain are too far gone to maintain their hold. Of course, Davros’ transformation benefits another group: the Daleks themselves, who have once again rebelled against their creator but who have allowed his insanity to progress so that he will eventually transform into a true Dalek Emperor.
Lidster also turns his attention to companion C’rizz, exploring the guilt he carries with him from the death of L’da, as well as his chameleonic personality. We still don’t know C’rizz’s background, though we know he has killed before, and he’s remarkably quick to do it again here. But he’s also susceptible to confusion — Lidster skillfully weaves in elements from previous plays, seeding hints that C’rizz can be pushed to murder with a frighteningly small amount of encouragement. Indeed, we learn at the end that C’rizz does kill Gemma, and that he believes that, in doing so, he has saved her — and that he feels he may need to “save” his current companions in the future. This is a brilliant setup for future adventures — perhaps we can finally see Turlough done right? — but unfortunately I doubt whether we’ll see an exploration like this again in the range.
Lidster also makes use of some surprisingly effective stylistic techniques. As seen before in The Rapture, words that close scenes are often used as bridges into subsequent scenes, giving the play an inherently exciting pace and level of interest. Lidster also uses the age-old Doctor Who trick of infusing moments of high drama with comedy to excellent effect: even as the Doctor is horrified to learn that his memories of Gemma and Samson have been hidden, he recalls a trip to Studio 54 and an attack by living guitars. The inherent absurdity of the Hokey-Pokey being sung as a cliffhanger has put off many listeners; I found it a rather disturbing effect.
I was given the impression that much of this play had been written purely to retcon the “Sam” reference in “Minuet in Hell” out of existence — there is no evidence in the text to support this position, as the character of Samson is a substantial part of Davros’ plan and is deeply tied to the play’s themes. Furthermore, even if this claim was true, the character would still not function as a retcon: there is nothing in “Minuet in Hell” to indicate just who is being referenced when “Sam” is mentioned. Complaints such as this baffle me, as they have little to nothing to do with the quality of Terror Firma.
After some questionable performances throughout the Divergent Universe arc, and being inexcusably sidelined in The Next Life, Paul McGann retakes center stage in Terror Firma with a powerhouse performance that reminds the listener of just why he was selected for the role in the first place. This Doctor, perhaps more than any of his fellows, is an inherently hopeful man, and though his frequent, self-aware “I am the Doctor!” exclamations grate, he refuses to be broken by Davros. McGann is asked to run the full gauntlet of emotions, and never fails to convince — from his delight at his return to his universe, to his anger and subsequent sadness as Davros’ full plan is unveiled, to his redemption at the conclusion, McGann is brilliant in the role.
But the central figure of this play is, arguably, Davros, and in what in continuity terms must be the last appearance of the character, Terry Molloy cements his status as the greatest of the Davroses. Davros spends the play clinging to the edge of his sanity, and Molloy performs this brilliantly, shifting his tones and inflections while making use of a truly frightening, deranged cackle. He almost manages to evoke sympathy when the depths of Davros’ insanity are revealed, but by now the damage is too great, and with the inevitable transformation into the Dalek Emperor, Molloy’s accompanying yell strikes just the right note.
Conrad Westmaas gives a very good performance as C’rizz, a character of whom we are right to be suspicious, and one who sounds more and more dangerous as we learn more about him. His calm acceptance of his apparent insanity at the play’s conclusion is chilling, but yet Westmaas still gives his character an inherent nobility — the conclusion of this character arc will be fascinating to see. Unfortunately, India Fisher does less well as Charley — Lidster doesn’t seem to know what to do with the character and resorts to using her as a foil for her companions’ emotions, and Fisher never breaks from her two interpretations of the character: chirpy and annoying or maudlin and whiny. At this point, Charley is approaching Sarah, K9, and Jamie for companion longevity, and it’s obvious the writers have nothing more to say about her — can we please have a new character? Among the supporting cast, meanwhile, Julia Deakin gives a frankly odd performance as Harriet — easily the strangest rebel leader of all time — while Lizzie Hopley and Lee Ingleby show a remarkable chemistry with McGann and completely convince as companions. Nicholas Briggs’ Dalek voices are great, but don’t we expect that by now?
Special praise must also be held out for the sound design, as Steve Foxon’s work rates as some of the best Big Finish has ever done. The crowd scenes sound convincing, characters react to realistic background effects, and the voice work done on Molloy enhances his performance all the more. The score is excellent as well. I’ve said before that Gary Russell’s direction often seems to match the quality of the script, and that’s certainly true here, as the transitions are effective and pacy while the performances are almost universally excellent. Heck, even the cover is great.
I’m not going to lie and say that Terror Firma is without its flaws. However, the sheer scope of Lidster’s imagination, the superior characterization on display, and the thematically-rich, thought-provoking script leave concerns like “a slightly jumbled plot” in their wake. Plays like this are why Big Finish is important: they show that we can indeed gleefully use continuity elements from Doctor Who’s past and still write brilliant scripts, they show (unlike so much of the Divergent Universe arc) just how lucky we are to have Paul McGann and an ongoing eighth Doctor series, and they introduce us to authors like Lidster who are not only talented but also important. Some people hate this play; I can but pity them.
The best Big Finish play in a long, long time.
10/10