aquaphobia n. An abnormal fear of water, or drowning.
blattodephobia n. The morbid fear of cockroaches.
catoptrophobia n. Fear of mirrors, or seeing one’s own reflection.
There’s a whole ABC of horrors at Bluefire House – as four young people, drawn together to this tumbledown hotel at the edge of nowhere, are about to discover. But whatever the ancient and foul thing that has emerged from the wilderness to drag them here, speaking of it will only strengthen it.
The Doctor alone knows what lurks at the heart of Bluefire House. But the monster of his childhood dreams is coming. The Mi’en Kalarash is coming…
Just this once, the Doctor is afraid.
HOUSE OF BLUE FIRE
After the continuity-heavy Sylvester McCoy trilogy involving “A Death in the Family,” this subsequent trilogy of solo adventures hasn’t really been a trilogy at all, with nothing linking the three plays. The conclusion comes with Mark Morris’s “House of Blue Fire,” a story that, like its predecessor, has a game-changing twist at the end of episode 2 – but unlike its predecessor, actually manages to entertain.
The greatest strength and greatest weakness of “House of Blue Fire” are tied up in the same concept. Morris writes a wonderful horror atmosphere, especially in the first episode. Number 18 (Amy Pemberton) and Number 5 (Miranda Keeling) wander around a nearly deserted mansion, presented with multiple rooms full of creepy features – a child’s room with lifeless dolls, an abandoned swimming pool full of mysterious leaves, etc. The absence of the Doctor can be a tricky thing, but Morris executes it well – it’s easy to sympathize with the characters and there’s enough happening on the periphery to hold the interest going forward. The problem, however, is that Morris uses incredibly visual techniques. The image of an abandoned swimming pool, full of murky water and covered in dead leaves, is scary, yes – but less so when you realize you can’t portray that through audio and make your characters declare (paraphrasing), “It’s a swimming pool! It’s covered in leaves! It looks like nobody’s been in here for years!” This happens over and over again throughout the play, but especially in the first part, and generates eye-rolls instead of suspense. One of the great values of audio is its ability to portray settings or events that would be far too expensive for television; one of the great challenges is describing these settings or events in ways that are neither labored nor obvious.
The significant twist, which I will ruin – Bluefire House is a fictional construct in the minds of test subjects in a military installation – does nothing to help the play along. The second episode ends wonderfully, and the encroaching threats by the characters’ fears helps make the story genuinely unsettling. Why pull things back out into the real world? Settings like this are uniquely McCoy, so why not just set the entire story in Bluefire House? Many authors feel the need to provide scientific explanations for everything; an author like Morris with a strength and background in horror does not seed to do this. Instead of an exciting story, we spend the majority of the third episode listening to the Doctor explain everything that’s been happening. Then there’s the Mi’en Kalarash (Lizzy Watts), an ancient evil from Time Lord legends that thrives on fear. As with the rest of the story, the Kalarash is much more threatening in its dream-realm; in the real world, it’s reduced to yelling a lot about destroying the universe. Even the Doctor yawns in the middle of the speech.
Sylvester McCoy is surprisingly animated in this story. He’s prone to a lot of desperate shouting about people making foolish decisions – normally, shouting isn’t his strength, but in this story it works remarkably well. Amy Pemberton is the closest thing to the companion role in this story, and her enthusiasm shines through an appealing performance. Miranda Keeling, on the other hand, plays her character so abrasively she becomes impossible to like, which is not a good state of affairs for one on the side of the heroes. Timothy West doesn’t do much as Dr. Soames, save for one patently ludicrous attempt at saving the day that seems to have been inserted as yet another attempt to ape traditional Who.
The sound design and music, offered by Fool Circle Productions, are atmospheric, creepy and generally excellent. Ken Bentley provides his usual steady hand at the director’s chair, allowing the spooky script room to breathe. In the end, though, “House of Blue Fire” is too divided to achieve greatness. Had Morris stuck with his dreamlike realm, he may have managed something greater – but as it stands, there’s too much wasted time and reliance upon visuals. Certainly nothing bad here, but it nonetheless fails to impress.
Completists only.
6/10