Recent Reviews

  • From Styre on 032 – The Time of the Daleks

    THE TIME OF THE DALEKS

    Though I do acknowledge the works of William Shakespeare as some of the greatest dramatic compositions of human history, I must admit to being more than a little annoyed by students of the Bard. Let’s be fair — you can’t talk to an amateur drama student for more than five minutes before hearing something about the latest Shakespeare project in which they’re involved, and they’re often terrible at whatever it is they’re supposed to be doing. As such, mindless Shakespeare adoration really gets on my nerves, but Justin Richards’ The Time of the Daleks is so wonderfully over the top about the whole thing that it kept a grin on my face throughout, even considering some of the play’s more obvious flaws.

    Starting from the idea “The Daleks quoting Shakespeare!” and writing a play from there is a recipe for disaster, as the author will generally come up with a ridiculously contrived reason for this happening. The Time of the Daleks is no different — there’s really no reason for Shakespeare to be involved with this play at all other than to give motivation to one of the villains. This motivation is just silly — she wants to erase Shakespeare from history because nobody can appreciate him? Huh? However, the inclusion of Shakespeare does allow for Daleks yelling things like “Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war” which is both funny and disturbing. Richards said he wanted to disconcert his audience and in this respect he proves a smashing success.

    However, the script falls down in the details. Richards gives an excellent homage to Dalek stories of the past — the echoes to The Evil of the Daleks are wonderful — but unfortunately when he needs to join the set pieces together, he can’t come up with a better means than endless technobabble. The opening of the play is unsatisfying because it’s impossible to understand what the Daleks are doing, and the constant discussions of the mechanics behind the mirror/clock time-travel device are simply boring. The successful plot elements probably could have been joined together in a much more realistic setting, lending the script a “first draft” feel — but despite this it’s still very entertaining.

    Paul McGann is again unusual here, but I’d put that down to the author rather than the actor. Richards writes a Doctor very similar to the pre-amnesia EDA Doctor: breathless, enthusiastic, energetic, and petulant. I hasten to point out that this is not bad, it is just disconcerting after the previous eight McGann plays. McGann himself is hilarious at times, especially with his “It wasn’t actually locked, you know” response to a Dalek shooting its way into a room.

    India Fisher continues to impress in her second season, as yet again she is able to demonstrate her character’s strengths without becoming offensive to the ears. She is properly horrified by the Daleks’ behavior, yet still allows her natural sarcasm to come to the fore when threatened with extermination at the conclusion. She also possesses a wonderful chemistry with McGann, demonstrated at the play’s final scene, which also lays the groundwork for the epic conclusion to follow.

    The supporting cast for this story is huge, with only Dot Smith really standing apart from the pack as General Learman. Her performance is excellent — at the start of the play, she comes across as an intelligent, benevolent dictator, and by the conclusion she’s obviously completely insane, but her performance does not change: the listener learns by her actions. On the flip side, Nicola Boyce is somewhat weak as Viola, as her lines just sound forced.

    Along with his directing duties, Nicholas Briggs also provides the score for The Time of the Daleks, and it is excellent — it echoes both The Evil of the Daleks and Briggs’ own Dalek plays, and by the end there is a unique but very recognizable “Dalek theme” which proves quite intimidating. Ian Potter provides his first sound design work for the range, which is solid; in The Inside Story he describes his process of creating the mirror effects, and while listening to the play I noted how impressive those effects were. Briggs’ direction is solid if unspectacular.

    The Time of the Daleks is not without its weaknesses, and I suspect the perspective of the listener will determine their opinion of the play. Approached as a serious exploration of the consequences of unrestricted time travel and intrusions into the past, the play fails, but approached as an enjoyable romp with homages to the past, it succeeds. Worth purchasing, but still a step down from the first four plays of the season — still, since it’s average rather than poor, it illustrates the leap forward in quality of this season over the first.

    5/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 11:25 pm
  • From Styre on 031 – Embrace the Darkness

    EMBRACE THE DARKNESS

    Much as when The X-Files would interrupt the season arc with a “monster of the week” episode, so too is Nicholas Briggs’ Embrace the Darkness a short break in the mounting tension of Paul McGann’s second Big Finish season as the eighth Doctor. Perhaps the quality of the preceding plays led many reviewers to attack Briggs’ production as lacking, but not-as-good does not mean bad and the play proves this.

    Briggs is one of the few authors who seems to approach his BF writing by planning to exploit the audio medium to its fullest. Embrace the Darkness is the best example of this, as he sets the play’s first episode almost entirely in pitch blackness, allowing the listener to fully experience the environment inhabited by the characters. This immersive experience is enhanced by Briggs’ decision to write the first episodes as a sort of body horror exhibition, with characters losing eyes and being forced to deal with their losses. It is no surprise that the first two episodes or so of the story are quite scary, as Briggs shows a flair for dialogue and character in this type of situation.

    Unfortunately, as the themes of the play are slowly worked into the environment, the play necessarily collapses because of the contrast of its opening episodes. Briggs has written his most intelligent Doctor Who script here (of the first 31 releases), something which uses darkness as a concept and wraps the characters around it, slowly converting each set of perceived villains into heroes or allies. The revelation that the Cimmerians are not killers but healers who are themselves afraid of an unseen menace is brilliant, but this is something of a Pyrrhic victory as it forces the final revelation to be that the Solarians are also a peaceful, friendly race. To keep the Solarians as villains would be to betray the play’s theme, but by using the same twist with them as with the Cimmerians, the conclusion of the play cannot be anything but anticlimactic. However, when observed from an intellectual rather than a visceral perspective, the conclusion is quite satisfying.

    Both here and in the subsequent play Paul McGann sounds a bit strained in his performance as the Doctor. This is not to say that he does a poor job — indeed, he is very, very good — but his fatigue (as described in The Inside Story) is evident in his voice. These factors, coupled with Briggs’ script, makes the Doctor very unusual in this play, shifting rapidly from harsh determination to suicidal depression. That the portrayal works is a testament to McGann’s ability, but this was the first time I raised an eyebrow at his performance.

    On the flip side, India Fisher is once again excellent as Charley Pollard. When the character is allowed to react naturally to a situation, she is excellent, and this is one of those times: Fisher’s performance lends the cliffhanger to episode 1 all of its powerful drama. Even her interaction with the Doctor as he prepares to sacrifice himself is good — this is the sort of scene in which Fisher often tips over the top and becomes intolerable, and she avoids any such mistakes here.

    Only four people populate the supporting cast, and three of them, Lee Moone, Mark McDonnell, and Nicola Boyce all blend together. Their performances are solid, but the role of the hard-bitten space explorer/marine/pirate/etc. has been played out and it is hard to provide a new take. That being said, they all play the various stages of fear and hysteria exceptionally well. Ian Brooker, meanwhile, is wonderful as ROSM, lending the robot a Giant Robot sort of pathos, and his turns as the Cimmerians are surprisingly creepy.

    Embrace the Darkness marks Jim Mortimore’s first turn as sound designer, and his work is exceptional. Mortimore opts for a very minimalist take on proceedings, keeping the score very subtle and unintrusive, while his futuristic sound effects are excellent. The Inside Story tells of friction between Briggs and Mortimore, but there’s absolutely no sign of this in the final result. Briggs also directs, and yet again brings his script to the speaker with aplomb. Clayton Hickman’s cover, like all the rest from this season, is excellent.

    Many people have panned Embrace the Darkness as the weakest production of McGann’s second season. This is unfair: Nicholas Briggs has produced a solid Doctor Who tale which has dramatic flaws only as the necessary consequences of an excellent thematic backdrop. Is it perfect? Of course not, but it certainly holds up the high standard of the season and continues to build confidence for the upcoming Dalek story and the epic climax to follow after that.

    Recommended.

    7/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 11:24 pm
  • From Styre on 030 – Seasons of Fear

    SEASONS OF FEAR

    I wouldn’t be surprised at all if it was the second Paul McGann season that swayed Russell T. Davies in the direction of combination television/Doctor Who audio authors for the new series. Not only does it feature a coherent, well-constructed plot arc, it also has the strongest three opening stories of any Doctor Who season since the Pertwee era. With Mark Gatiss and Robert Shearman behind the first two, Paul Cornell wrote the third, Seasons of Fear, along with Caroline Symcox, and the story marks the third superb McGann release in a row.

    Cornell’s stated aim with Seasons of Fear was to revisit the old Doctor Who tradition of the “quest” narrative, a story featuring frequent TARDIS trips to various locales in the vein of The Keys of Marinus or The Chase. Of course, neither of those stories has been particularly well-received, but their structures were not to blame — and Seasons of Fear demonstrates this, as it’s a very strong tale which takes advantage of its multiple time zones. Rather than focusing entirely on the Doctor and Charley, time is spent in each region attempting to flesh out that region’s characters, leading to a series of smaller adventures which feature better characterization than will normally be found in a Doctor Who story.

    Of course, this is also the story which featured the secret return of the Nimon, and it’s a testament to the authors’ abilities that the oft-ridiculed monsters are here restored and given an intimidating nature. The Dalek red herring is a nice bit of linking material to the upcoming Richards play, while the Nimon voices are excellent recreations of the TV versions and sound authentic. Admittedly, the lack of visuals help greatly, as the original Nimon costumes looked rather silly, but without a pure farce surrounding them, the concept of the Nimon suddenly becomes threatening rather than ludicrous.

    Paul Cornell always writes a strong Doctor, and this play is no exception, as the eighth Doctor as written by Cornell and Symcox is a very deep, passionate character crossed with a great sense of humor. From McGann’s astonished reaction to Charley’s question about orgies, to his impassioned promise of pain to Grayle should Charley come to any harm, this Doctor is one that clearly cares a great deal about his companion — but at the same time he’s unafraid to mock the enemy in the face of overwhelming odds. Unfortunately, some of the typical Cornell self-referentialism works its way into the script — a character asking if mockery is acceptable since the Doctor does it is one thing, but then there’s the “I’m the Doctor, I don’t do that sort of thing” nonsense that irritates me — but there’s very little of it, especially when compared to The Scream of the Shalka or The Shadow of the Scourge.

    After spending the first season despising India Fisher and Charley Pollard, I must admit that the first three offerings of the second season have changed my mind. This is now a character with actual depth, one with reactions perfectly in keeping with her humanity. Her proposed solutions for the problem of Grayle are both amusing and thought-provoking, as the difference between Charley and the Doctor is further underscored. Fisher’s acting is in keeping with this portrayal, and she only ventures into the extravagant ranges when her character is portraying another — this is a very strong performance helped along by a commendable script.

    Lennox Greaves and Sue Wallace return to the fold for the second consecutive play, and their turns as Edward the Confessor and his wife Edith are markedly different from their performances in The Chimes of Midnight, yet still a joy to hear. The star of the show is of course Stephen Perring, who gives a powerful performance as Grayle, shifting from uncertainty to confidence to insanity from setting to setting. And of course there’s Don Warrington, who will reappear a few months later in the same role, but he’s nicely enigmatic at this stage.

    Production is excellent as always, with Gareth Jenkins being taxed by having to create sound design for three separate time periods along with Nimon and a Dalek for good measure — but you couldn’t tell this was a challenge, if indeed it even was. Jane Elphinstone provides her second score for the series after her cooperative effort on Project: Twilight, and this score is just as atmospheric and moody as her first, the “heartbeat” motif creating a building suspense in the play. Gary Russell returns to the director’s chair and, as usual, does a masterful job — sometimes I find myself wishing he’d do something wrong just so I could stop looking for synonyms for “excellent!”

    Seasons of Fear marks the third exceptional release in a row for BF and finally makes up for the problems of the first McGann season. Any doubts about the range’s ability to produce truly new Doctor Who stories should be erased by this point — whether or not they would follow through on this ability remains to be seen, of course, but if this is the sort of thing Cornell is capable of producing, my anticipation for the new series is growing by leaps and bounds. Excellent stuff.

    Very highly recommended.

    9/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 11:23 pm
  • From Styre on 029 – The Chimes of Midnight

    THE CHIMES OF MIDNIGHT

    After The Holy Terror, a stunningly brilliant Doctor Who debut, it’s hard to imagine Robert Shearman being able to follow it up. When the first thing you’ve written for a series comes close to trumping the series’ history to that point, what do you do for an encore? Write something equally impressive, of course.

    The Chimes of Midnight quite simply demonstrates the talent gap between Shearman and many of his Doctor Who authorial colleagues. It’s the first true atmosphere piece attempted by Big Finish, and it works perfectly — there’s very little in the way of conflict in the entire first episode, but that doesn’t matter at all, as the Doctor and Charley exploring the house holds the attention and doesn’t let go. Even on a second listen, when I already knew the revelations to come, I found myself feeling apprehensive as the characters explored the larder.

    But it isn’t the mood which sets The Chimes of Midnight apart, it’s the thematic work. Starting with episode 2, the listener is subject to a constant series of repetitions, each subtly different from the last. This may seem like padding the first time through, but by the conclusion the reasons for it become evident. Like other examples of Shearman’s work, these are characters playing roles, losing their individuality on the way to becoming ciphers.

    The heart of the piece, though, is the villain, the house Edward Grove, whose villainous activity has an unusual motivation: the desire to enjoy life. Much like Eugene Tacitus in The Holy Terror, this is not a villain who relishes in his activities nor who can honestly be considered evil — the house is reliving events over and over again, its life torment but enjoyable merely because it constitutes existence. Of course this is thematically similar to The Holy Terror, but that doesn’t matter, as The Chimes of Midnight approaches the material from a completely different angle, giving it a unique feeling.

    Thrown into the middle of all this is Paul McGann’s eighth Doctor, and McGann’s perforamnce is as strong as ever. Shearman writes a very curious, very human eighth Doctor, one who is cautious and sometimes afraid, but one who is not afraid to allow his natural zest for life and sense of humor come to the fore. McGann is powerful in this play, giving every scene the necessary degree of intonation, and really coming to the fore in his final confrontation with Edward Grove.

    India Fisher turns in her second solid performance, as Shearman allows Charley some much-needed emotional depth and vulnerability. For once, she isn’t the unflappable “Edwardian adventuress” character but a real human being, and Fisher shows remarkable range in her more emotional scenes. Furthermore, this is the first play to really draw attention to the R101 paradox, and by stating categorically that Charley should be dead but not dwelling on the consequences, Shearman also urges the listener to continue the saga.

    The small supporting cast is up to Big Finish’s usual standard. Sue Wallace’s Mrs. Baddeley is remarkably endearing despite her constant plum pudding references, while Juliet Warner gets a fun performance as Mary. Louise Rolfe is excellent as Edith, especially in the final episode — her exchange with Charley is heartbreaking to hear and Rolfe pulls it off with aplomb. The star, however, is Lennox Greaves, whose turn as Shaughnessy is every inch the honorable butler — until, that is, he turns into the murderous living house, when he’s as scary as any other BF “signature voice” (Chance, Greif, etc.).

    To this point in the range there is no doubt that The Chimes of Midnight’s production is the best of the first 29. Reading The Inside Story gives a very strong impression of the amazing detail to which designer Andy Hardwick aspired — down to judging the distance between certain rooms and the clock and adjusting its levels to match. Russell Stone’s score is yet another masterpiece, giving the play a palpable sense of dread, while Barnaby Edwards’ first trip into the BF director’s chair is a success — this play sounds as though serious work has been put into it, a testament to all involved.

    This isn’t as strong a script from Shearman as The Holy Terror, but despite that it’s still stronger than 99% of the Who material out there. Couple that with the best production effort from Big Finish of the first 29 releases and you’ve got yet a legitimate classic.

    Must-own stuff.

    10/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 11:21 pm
  • From Styre on 028 – Invaders from Mars

    INVADERS FROM MARS

    With the new Doctor Who series just over a week from its premiere at the time of this writing, it was fitting that the next play in line for a review, Invaders from Mars, was written by new series scribe Mark Gatiss. His first BF offering, Phantasmagoria, was very well written and helped the series recover from the serious misstep that was The Sirens of Time — but could he give Paul McGann a second-season introduction that would make up for the absolutely terrible Storm Warning? In a word, yes.

    Historical pastiche is a longstanding Doctor Who tradition, and Gatiss provides another fine example of the style with Invaders from Mars. Rather than a straightforward look at New York of the 1930s, Gatiss writes the play as a radio serial of the time, complete with over-the-top characters, ludicrous plotting, and rapid-fire witty dialogue. Frankly, I’m surprised Big Finish hadn’t gone down this road before, as many of the flaws that would otherwise have doomed the production can simply be ignored here. Sure, the accents aren’t convincing, but so what? It’s a comedy story — the OTT bad accents add to the flavor of the piece rather than detracting from it.

    Using a comedy story to start a new season of eighth Doctor plays could have been a mistake, but using Gatiss as writer guaranteed that this would be a success. The exchanges are constantly funny, some more subtle than others, and the actors clearly enjoy their parts. Of course, there are factual errors, but these are a result of the temporal paradox which will come into play over the course of the season. Indeed, the two main complaints about this play seem to be that 1) it has errors and 2) it’s frivolous, both of which seem meaningless to me. I have no major complaints about proceedings.

    Paul McGann is excellent in his return to the role of the Doctor. He launches himself into his part, and the Doctor sounds like he’s having the time of his life playing the role of the gangster. We haven’t really heard this Doctor having fun since Storm Warning, and it’s refreshing. Gatiss also gives the character some endearing traits, such as nervousness before a microphone and adoration of the works of Orson Welles.

    India Fisher, after a very uneven first season, is much stronger here. Her rapport with McGann is delightful, and Gatiss gives them exchanges perfectly in keeping with the tone of the rest of the play. As she’s allowed to be more subdued, Fisher doesn’t go nearly as OTT as she has in the past, and thus Charley is eminently likeable.

    The guest cast of Invaders from Mars is excellent, a trend which is growing stronger as BF continues. Of course, headlining the cast is Simon Pegg, who will be appearing in the new series as well, and his turn as Don Chaney is very good. Pegg adopts a perfectly convincing accent and gives the character the mix of menace and politeness typical of fictionalized gangsters of the time. At first listen, one would suspect Jessica Stevenson of having a terrible American accent — but then it’s revealed that her character has adopted the accent as well. David Benson’s Welles impression is almost indistinguishable from the original, and would steal the show if not for John Arthur’s turn as Cosmo Devine, a columnist who is in turns flamboyant and dangerous, and whose portrayal is superlative. The aliens are brilliant as well, but I could gush all day about the performances…

    In keeping with the tone of the play, Alistair Lock’s sound design is intended to recreate the feel of a period radio serial. This is done perfectly, with overdramatic, scratchy music cues and of-the-time sound effects. Amateurish? Not at all — professionally designed to sound that way. Gatiss does a fine job of directing his own script, both in securing his cast and then getting the performances on display. He even keeps things incredibly fast-paced; though I have absolutely no problem with the length of most Big Finish offerings, Invaders from Mars’ 96’01” running time is refreshing.

    After the first Paul McGann season, I was very worried indeed about the prospects of another. Big Finish, however, proved me wrong, kicking things off with a bang, bringing together a fun, hilarious script from Mark Gatiss coupled with excellent performances and great sound design. Though perhaps not up to the level of, say, The Holy Terror, this is without question the best McGann release of the first five and stands near the top of the range at the time.

    Very highly recommended.

    9/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 11:19 pm
  • From Styre on 027 – The One Doctor

    THE ONE DOCTOR

    The decision to venture into pure comedy for the 2001 BF Christmas release was risky: such a genre is rare in Doctor Who and attempts in that direction have had a variable reception through the years. Gareth Roberts and Clayton Hickman’s The One Doctor, however, defies any negative preconceptions and delivers hilarious results — but despite this, The One Doctor is not a masterpiece and its critical reception seems somewhat overblown.

    The driving conceit of the play — that of actors in the future using the Doctor’s identity to swindle helpless planets out of lots of money — is brilliant; its description as “the vulgar end of time” is perfect. Indeed, it’s the humor that derives from this conceit that works the best: the Doctor/Banto exchanges are hilarious, the interactions of the two companions and two Doctors equally so, and the not-too-bright inhabitants of Generios amuse as well. There’s a lot of Douglas Adams-esque humor here — arguing with the alien intelligence over the definitions of its units of time, for example — but it all works extremely well and the listener should have a constant smile on his or her face.

    Unfortunately, the other set pieces don’t hold up nearly as well. For example, while the Assemblers are hilarious, the situation put to Mel and Banto is not. Maybe it’s not funny to Americans, I don’t know, but listening to two people assemble shelving is boring, no matter how impossible the task may be. Similarly, the Weakest Link parody just drags and drags — given that the show is fairly funny to begin with, there’s not much there to lampoon. And the situation with the Jelloid has its funny moments, but it too goes on far too long, and by the time the Jelloid is singing I’m contemplating skipping to the next track.

    This is not to say the play is bad, of course, and one of its main redeeming factors is the performance of Colin Baker. His Doctor is a perfect straight man to Banto’s antics and Baker plays this to the hilt — but he’s also very good at needling and ridiculing the opposition and he gets more than one opportunity to do this as well. I realize that I’ve never given anything but a positive review about Colin’s performances — this should really tell you something.

    After her revelatory performance in The Fires of Vulcan, it’s interesting to see Bonnie Langford right back into comedic Doctor Who. Of course, this isn’t the over the top stuff of season 24, and likewise Mel isn’t nearly as loud as before. Langford has excellent comic timing — though her “Bushes” speech falls flat — and her exasperation with Banto Zame is almost more entertaining than that of the Doctor himself. It’s thus unsurprising that another Doctor/Mel team was used for the subsequent year’s comedy release.

    Christopher Biggins’ turn as Banto Zame is excellent — his fake Doctor is almost convincing even to the listener while remaining funny. Same goes for Clare Buckfield, whose Sally-Ann sounds almost identical to Mel when she’s in-character. Matt Lucas almost steals the show as the Jelloid, Nicholas Pegg is funny as Mentos, but the real show-stealers are Mark Wright and Alistair Lock as the guards — their (few) appearances had me laughing out loud every time.

    It should come as no surprise that the production on The One Doctor is impeccable. Alistair Lock, aside from his acting talent, had a number of effects to come up with and they’re all convincing. His score fits the tone perfectly. Gary Russell directs again and brings it all together well — true, there are some parts that drag, but at no point does The One Doctor sound self-indulgent or unfunny.

    McGann season aside, 2001 was a very solid year for Big Finish, and though I personally would not rate The One Doctor as the year’s best release, it’s unsurprising that the surveys give it that reputation. Repeated journeys into the realm of comedy might not fare as well, but Roberts and Hickman keep the story relatively fresh throughout and rarely cease being entertaining. It’s hard to say whether comedy Doctor Who can be better than this, but this is certainly nothing to be ashamed of — quite the opposite, in fact.

    Highly recommended.

    8/10

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    2016/05/07 at 11:11 pm
  • From Styre on 026 – Primeval

    PRIMEVAL

    It was only in doing the research for this review that I discovered that Primeval was supposed to be another surprise story. For whatever reason, I knew long before I heard it the first time that the story marked a return to Traken, and this seemed so obvious to me that I was always confused about what twist author Lance Parkin was talking about in his notes. However, with the confusion explained, I found Primeval pleasantly surprising — the first time I’d heard it, I found it lacking, but the second time around it proved itself to be a very solid outing for the fifth Doctor.

    I have to say, first off, that the moral ambiguity that many have praised in Primeval isn’t particularly interesting. Johnny Byrne’s Traken, though somewhat clumsily assembled, was an honest-to-goodness fairy tale land where evil turned to stone and everyone was happy. Granted, one of the characters succumbed to corruption, but this was due to an outside influence gaining access to the planet. In Primeval, Parkin deconstructs the idea of a utopia (his words) by showing that it’s only a “utopia” because it’s populated by intolerant, insular fundamentalists who don’t let other people in. Not that this is poorly-executed, because it’s very well done, but the “they’re really just flawed people like everyone else” angle feels very uninspired.

    That being said, Parkin’s recreation of Traken in the past is excellent. All the elements are there without the production ever sounding indulgent — this could easily be listened to without ever having seen The Keeper of Traken and this is one of the play’s greatest strengths. Kwundaar is an excellent creation as well — it’s difficult for Doctor Who to provide an honest look at the divine, and often the “actually he’s just a really powerful alien” explanation is annoying, but here it fits the tone perfectly. I admit, though, to being unsure about what other similar powers have been released into the universe — The Inside Story claims this line refers to the Season 20 bad guys, but that seems wrong to me. Overall, the script is plotted very well — using the Doctor’s curiosity to defeat him is a time-honored tradition held up well by Kwundaar — and marked with one of the best cliffhangers in the range at the end of part 1.

    Peter Davison, for the third out of three times in 2001, provides an excellent performance. While he was subdued in Loups-Garoux, and an action hero in The Eye of the Scorpion, here he is every inch the moral crusader, raging against the obvious injustices of both Traken society and Kwundaar’s cult while simultaneously fighting for his companion’s life. Davison has remarkable range, especially for a man whose voice isn’t the most variable, and it’s shown to the fullest here.

    Sarah Sutton is equally impressive as Nyssa — here she gets to run through a series of emotions, being sick in one scene, defiant in another, and playful in still more. It’s difficult to give depth to a character so devoted to science and reason, but returning Nyssa to her home planet allows her to let loose somewhat.

    The supporting performances are excellent. Stephen Greif stands out as Kwundaar, taking a typically evil villain and injecting the character with all sorts of depth without ever resorting to clichéd ranting and raving. Susan Penhaligon is good as Shayla, playing a familiar character type well, while Billy Miller and Romy Tennant turn in fine performances as Narthex and Anona. I didn’t even notice Miller doubling up as the captain — good job there.

    After the questionable outing of Colditz, the production values are once again up to par, with Gareth Jenkins providing some very unique work. I found Kwundaar’s voice to be very effective, while the background effects added a fine sense of realism. One complaint, though — whether it was down to production or acting, I can’t say, but oftentimes the screaming heard in the background of certain scenes just sounded hilarious to me. Maybe I’m just demented, but this didn’t come over well. Russell Stone’s score is his best yet, giving memorable and effective themes for almost every situation. And, of course, there’s Gary Russell’s direction — he should be saluted for generating the performances he got.

    Primeval is a successful outing for Big Finish. While not as innovative as it perhaps could have been, Lance Parkin’s script makes up for any thematic deficiencies with solid plotting and an exceptional grasp of the characters. Add to that some excellent design work and you’ve got another winner.

    Recommended.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 11:06 pm
  • From Styre on 025 - Colditz

    COLDITZ

    With popular perception of the stagnation of the seventh Doctor/Ace pairing as growing stagnant, it was important for Big Finish to shake things up somehow, whether through changes to the characters or their dynamic. Using a Steve Lyons script to accomplish this should have made things smoother, given his prior performance with Mel in The Fires of Vulcan, but unfortunately a number of factors conspire to make Colditz average at best.

    Of course, after only one trip to World War II in the entire 26 year run of the television series, the territory has become familiar ground in the novels — and now the audios join in with a trip to a German prison camp. Not that the era is bereft of dramatic value, but it seems overused — and this is directly underscored by Ace’s statement that she hates Nazis. Such a statement implies that she has had several prior experiences with Nazis, something which cannot be accounted for by The Curse of Fenric. Unfortunately that leaves the NAs as her source of Nazi encounters, leaving Colditz as a possible implicit acknowledgment of the continuity of the NAs.

    Of course, Gary Russell is on record as saying “I don’t give a damn about what happened in the New Adventures.” This is clearly in relation to the continuity of Big Finish — Russell wrote an NA and commissioned two NA Big Finish audios, so it’s not like he dislikes the range — but unfortunately this meant that he felt it necessary to reinvent the character in a manner different from both the NAs and the TV series. The chosen manner? Put the character through exactly the same amount of stress she’s felt in a million other adventures but this time… change her name at the end! Yes! Notice, too, that she goes by McShane from here on: obviously, she’s grown up enough to do away with a nickname, but she’s still rejecting that stupid name Dorothy. Sounds like maturity to me. It also doesn’t help that the script gives no clue whatsoever that this is coming — but that’s hardly Lyons’ fault as he had the content ordered into the script after it was already written.

    Of course, it doesn’t help that the performances of the regulars are lacking for the second consecutive McCoy outing. McCoy himself is below-average, sounding as though he hasn’t read the script before entering the studio. Most of his line readings are hurried and he’s clearly emoting as he goes — whatever the reason, someone needed to keep a tighter leash. There are a few moments where he recaptures the old power of his performance, but for the most part he’s just going through the motions. This is disappointing — he can clearly command the ear, as demonstrated in the earlier Lyons script The Fires of Vulcan.

    Sophie Aldred hasn’t really ever been good as Ace and this trend continues here, as she yet again shouts her way through the script in an attempt to inject more of that “maturity” into the character. But then I’ve never liked her performance as Ace, and I find that it’s very difficult to get a great performance (but it’s possible: see The Fearmonger) from her.

    I realize this sounds like a terribly negative review, and honestly the play isn’t that bad: Lyons’ script is fascinating, his usual time-paradox approach using the conceit of a future Doctor in imaginative fashion. The supporting cast is developed well and the actors are more than capable, with only David Tennant’s performance being anything less than excellent. Tracey Childs turns in a nicely desperate performance as Klein.

    Of course, this is the story that’s been lambasted for awful production values, and ultimately the problems come down to levels. The effects by Toby Richards and Emily Baker sound accurate and the music is very good, but unfortunately nothing is mixed properly and the characters are constantly drowned out. Gary Russell’s direction is solid, but I really do find myself wishing that he had been more authoritative with the regulars — this pair, more than any other, seems to phone in performances.

    With the various factors affecting Colditz, it would have been impossible for this play to have been anything better than average. Unfortunately, Lyons’ script is nowhere near his best Doctor Who work and the performances are flawed in places, meaning that Colditz is a true struggle. It’s still better than McGann’s first season or the works of Mike Tucker, but that isn’t saying much. Probably not worth picking up, but some will enjoy it all the same.

    5/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:40 pm
  • From Styre on 024 – The Eye of the Scorpion

    THE EYE OF THE SCORPION

    After exploring new territory with Project: Twilight, Big Finish turned to Peter Davison’s Doctor with the same idea as that used with Colin Baker: the introduction of a new companion. Recognizing the opportunity to introduce a new dynamic, this companion was introduced to the Doctor/Peri pairing, further extending Season 21 — but before that could take root, the introductory story needed to be told.

    New-to-Who author Iain McLaughin’s script surprisingly gives performed Doctor Who its first full-length trip to ancient Egypt. Given the popularity of Egyptian-themed stories, it’s surprising that it took this long for Doctor Who to make it back to the age of the pyramids (The Daleks’ Masterplan notwithstanding), but the eventual result is impressive. McLaughlin presents authentic-sounding period detail (though I can’t speak to its true realism) while combining alien elements in the “pseudohistorical” tradition.

    Unfortunately, these alien elements come across much less convincingly than do the historical elements. It seems as though, with a little tweaking, the plot could have remained purely historical; the alien influence sounds like a forced replacement for a more natural tale of ambition and rebellion. The worst offender in this regard is the climax, one of those tedious mind battles that involves the Doctor and the villain groaning at each other for three minutes. This is not a major flaw, however, as the plot is well-constructed and the characterization is strong.

    Peter Davison’s performance is commanding. The Doctor takes a very active role in proceedings, engaging in frequent action sequences and debating political intrigue at the highest level of society. Davison responds in kind, giving one of his strongest performances yet — a feat made all the more amazing by his absence from the second episode. McLaughlin writes the character very well — of course, this is nothing like the Doctor of S21, but that’s a constant issue with this period of BF productions.

    It is obvious, though, that McLaughlin has paid attention to Peri’s development, as this is very much a character that has just joined the TARDIS. Nicola Bryant’s performance is very bright-eyed and enthusiastic — it’s noticeable at the start of the play but by the conclusion it’s offering a refreshing change from her relationship with the sixth Doctor. There’s also a distinct lack of whining — the author clearly understands the strengths of his regular characters.

    This is the first story for new companion Erimem, and Caroline Morris turns in an excellent first performance. Erimem is, of course, unfamiliar with any concepts past those known to ancient Egypt, yet she is a very strong judge of character. Much like a modern variation of Leela, she bonds well with the Doctor — but her strongest friendship forms immediately with Peri. This is a legitimately strong female character that doesn’t resort to stereotype: she is capable of ruling an empire or sharing a joke and she is a pleasure to hear. The script also implies she will die at the conclusion, making her presence aboard the TARDIS a nice surprise.

    As for the supporting cast, the performances are universally strong. Though some of the acting is a bit over the top, the political intrigue is intentionally melodramatic — a technique which is then undercut by the Doctor’s response. Stephen Perring, for example, seemed to be overacting but ultimately I understood the decisions involved. Harry Myers plays Yanis in much the same way.

    The production is solid as always, David Darlington’s work painting a fascinating picture of ancient Egypt. Admittedly (and in Darlington’s own words), it is impossible to know what thousands of swarming scorpions sound like, but he certainly does a convincing job. The music is also captivating, giving a unique sound to proceedings while remaining nicely understated. Gary Russell’s direction is of course strong, the play being kept to a good pace. The chariot battle at the beginning demonstrates the excellence of the production — perhaps the dialogue is a bit clunky but the effects sound perfect.

    As a vehicle to introduce a new companion, The Eye of the Scorpion is excellent, but many will forget the redeeming factors that make this play stand up on its own. It’s not without its flaws but it’s the second very strong release for Peter Davison, who finally gets a great production or two after 24 releases.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:29 pm
  • From Styre on 023 – Project: Twilight

    PROJECT: TWILIGHT

    This is the sort of experimentation with the format that I love. Welcoming new authors Cavan Scott and Mark Wright to the fold, Big Finish expected a vampire story — but the fans could never have expected what they received: a gruesome, violent tale of suffering that nevertheless retains that unique quality that marks all quality Doctor Who.

    Of course, the violence is the number one talking point of this audio. Many people will write off a Doctor Who release, be it on audio or in print, because of an excess of violence, arguing that this “isn’t real Doctor Who” or similar. Granted, if violence isn’t your thing, that’s your decision, but it’s plays like Project: Twilight that demonstrate that there’s a place for violence in Who. Yes, the violence is gruesome, and at times it borders on the gratuitous, but characters are seen to suffer correspondingly and the Doctor is never seen to revel in the destruction. Perhaps more offensive than the Doctor killing Shockeye in The Two Doctors was his joke immediately afterward; Scott and Wright include no such material here.

    Secondly, Project: Twilight involves the return (in a sense) of old monsters: vampires. Whereas a play like Bloodtide brought back the Silurians with very little inventiveness, preferring instead to reuse their old tropes, Project: Twilight offers a new type of vampire: that which has been converted by virus from a human subject. It’s curious, then, that the Doctor is driven by Gallifreyan oath to stop them, as I’m not sure it’s stated in the play that these vampires are derived from their ancient counterparts, but his anguish over his own ignorance is painful to hear. I’m a fan of vampire stories in general, and Doctor Who stories involving the Gallifreyan mythos intrigue me, so I admit a bias towards this sort of material, but for once it’s done in a fresh manner that stimulates interest past that which already exists.

    As usual, Colin Baker’s performance is first-rate. Though some question his character’s ignorance, I didn’t hear a great deal of evidence within the play from which he was supposed to deduce the presence of vampires — I believe this outcry came from public knowledge of the identity of the antagonists. Baker’s anguished scenes are some of the best he’s done to this point in the range; his worry for Evelyn, particularly at the conclusion of episode three, is heartbreaking.

    Speaking of Evelyn, this is the finest outing yet for Maggie Stables, whose character is given some actual depth of feeling for the first time in a long time. We see Evelyn trying to adopt her usual blasé attitude to her surroundings, but the gruesome violence finally proves too much and she is forced to step aside. She quickly forms a bond with Cassie, a bond which is painfully threatened as the play’s events continue, and she too is anguished over these events. Of course, this will be revisited in Project: Lazarus and later plays, but to this point it is good to hear weaknesses in her character.

    The supporting cast is quite good, Holly De Jong in particular drifting back and forth over the line between class and animalism with ease. I admit ignorance of the UK gangster stereotypes, but Rob Dixon’s performance seemed very convincing to me. Unfortunately, Rosie Cavaliero does less well as Cassie, as she spends the latter half of the play screaming a lot and emoting way, way too much. But the star of the show is unquestionably Stephen Chance, whose vocal performance as Nimrod is one of the most memorable in BF history. Nimrod is delightfully amoral, and Chance’s performance is note-perfect: his delivery of “He doesn’t seem to have one. I wonder where it went” stands out for me above all.

    On the production front, this is, as previously mentioned, a gruesome story, and I can only imagine the fun Gareth Jenkins had trying to replicate the sound of a vampire being impaled upon a crossbow bolt before subsequently exploding. I have no idea what this is supposed to sound like, but I was convinced. Jim Mortimore and Jane Elphinston compose their first BF score, and it’s of Russell Stone quality — one of the best to this point in the range. Gary Russell turns in his usual excellent job as director, drawing out great performances and keeping the running time just over ninety minutes.

    Overall, this is another victory for Big Finish. The enthusiasm of new writers shines through the material, and you can detect a sense of glee behind all the darkness. There are a few acting deficiencies, and the plot might be thin in places, but the freshness more than makes up for this. This is Doctor Who treading new ground and treading it well.

    Highly recommended.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:28 pm
  • From Styre on 022 – Bloodtide

    BLOODTIDE

    Yet another old monster would return to Big Finish in Bloodtide, the company’s 22nd Doctor Who release. Jonathan Morris, who, as far as I’m aware, had not yet been published as the author of the celebrated Festival of Death, was tabbed as the author. The result? A story that deals with religious matters in a surprisingly forthright matter, but one which also fails to climb above an average level of achievement.

    I should start by pointing out that I believe in evolution and that I generally consider those that embrace creationism to be demonstrating some level of willful ignorance. However, I’m not sure if the Doctor should be quite so challenging of the tenets of organized religion. Yes, he’s a rationalist, and no, he’s not likely to openly encourage an ignorant viewpoint, but a deleted line has the Doctor saying “[e]nlightenment will always defeat ignorance” in regard to evolutionary theory over religion. I do, however, love the image of a man’s belief in God being torn down by the sight of an alien race, something I’ve always envisioned happening on a mass scale if the aliens ever do land on the White House lawn.

    Unfortunately, the nature of the story leads to a conundrum. Yes, it’s interesting to reveal the Silurians as having shaped the course of man’s evolutionary development (joining a million other races, but that’s perfectly okay with me), but unfortunately Morris’s decision to tell a Silurian story just like the other two leads to a strong sense of sameness. There are good Silurians and bad Silurians and the Doctor in the middle, trying to get both sides to reconcile and achieve peace with humanity. There’s a virus, and a Myrka, and so on. As I’ve said in other places, repetition such as this doesn’t mean the final product will fail to equal the originals, but it does mean that the final product will struggle to do so.

    Colin Baker’s first performance in almost a year is first-rate, as this most oratory of Doctors is given a strong stage from which to perform. His monologues on the nature of humanity compared to its potential superiors are gripping, Morris demonstrating a strong understanding of the character compared to his other incarnations. I particularly enjoyed his discussions with Darwin, especially at the conclusion of the episode where he requests anonymity for himself and Evelyn.

    Speaking of Evelyn, this is a strong outing for Maggie Stables as well. Her character has the same spark of intelligence and sarcasm we’ve come to expect, but she’s much more subdued here, keeping her out of the “older Benny” trap into which many authors fall. Her self-aware dialogue while sabotaging the submersible actually works, which is somewhat rare for BF, but it’s a testament to Morris’s ability.

    Unfortunately, the supporting cast does not do nearly as well. The Silurians blend together into the usual good/bad/scientist mold and, as such, Daniel Hogarth, Helen Goldwyn, and Jez Fielder are mostly unmemorable. Jane Goddard’s performance as Greta is almost too annoying for words — who on earth thought that performance with that character was a good idea? Sorry, but when she was killed, I cheered. Miles Richardson plays Darwin as written, and does a fine job, but his lines were just too heavy-handed for my taste. Everything Darwin said was an agony of some kind over the nature of evolution — it’s as though the man had some sort of mental disorder. Darwin came across as a mouthpiece for the author, something which generally removes me from belief in a particular medium. Robert Shearman, though, deserves a BAFTA for his turn as the Myrka.

    As usual, Alistair Lock’s sound design is excellent. The Silurians sound almost exactly as they did on television, and the Myrka is made to sound threatening for the first time ever. As with most of Lock’s scores, this one is understated yet effective. Gary Russell’s direction is solid as well, though I maintain that he should correct some actors’ interpretations of their characters if those interpretations create more Gretas.

    Bloodtide is a solid, ultratraditional Doctor Who tale that allows Colin Baker to take center stage and assume command of proceedings. Unfortunately, the themes aren’t subtle at all and there’s really nothing particularly original going on here, so it’s incredibly difficult to acclaim the play as anything better than average. Still a solid first BF effort for Morris.

    6/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:27 pm
  • From Styre on 021 – Dust Breeding

    DUST BREEDING

    Possibly the best-kept secret in the history of Big Finish came with their twenty-first release, Mike Tucker’s Dust Breeding. Unfortunately, the reputation of the play has been unfairly built around this surprise revelation, masking the many other flaws of the production. Not that this is particularly surprising, given the identity of the author, but this marks yet another misstep.

    On a conceptual level, this story isn’t particularly bad, but it’s obvious that there are simply too many elements competing for attention. Between the Warp Core inhabiting The Scream, the various activities of the art dealers, the nature of the dust on Duchamp 331, the Master, and the Krill, there’s far too much going on, and Tucker can’t keep it all under control. Honestly, there’s no reason at all to feature The Scream, as its connection to the plot is spurious at best and it simply serves as an additional distraction, as well as an excuse for Sophie Aldred to scream a lot.

    Furthermore, we’ve got the return of the Krill to look forward to. Of course, the reaction of most listeners will invariably be “what the hell are the Krill,” since most of them won’t have read Storm Harvest. So why did they appear? Well, according to The Inside Story, because they wanted to distract from the return of the Master and because Mike Tucker had built a Krill mask in his spare time. Is there any explanation for the Krill, save the most basic sort of info-dumping? Of course not. Is it possible at all to visualize them without the aid of the pictures in the liner notes? Of course not, because all they do is growl and snarl. Do they present a credible threat? No, because, while they do scare the hell out of the characters, they’re also scared away themselves by handfuls of dust.

    Sylvester McCoy’s performance in Dust Breeding is best described as “perfunctory.” It sounds as though he hasn’t read the script before coming in, and he masks his confusion with the lines by overenunciating everything, rolling his “r”s, and varying the pitch of his voice to a ridiculous degree. Of course, Tucker generally writes a fairly terrible seventh Doctor, so it’d be stunning if McCoy was even *capable* of getting something good out of this, but his effort certainly doesn’t help.

    Then, of course, there’s Sophie Aldred, who butchers the play with her ridiculous overacting. Tucker gives her nothing but annoying lines — her exclamation at discovering the Munch painting is risible — and she overplays them to a senseless degree. Even as she was screaming her head off at the conclusion of episode one, I was busy attempting to find a knitting needle to plunge into my eardrums to block out the pain. This is certainly not the finest hour for regular characters in Doctor Who.

    Of course, the big secret of the play is the return of the Master, played as he was in The Keeper of Traken by Geoffrey Beevers. His portrayal of the character on television was wonderfully melodramatic, and it is no different here, as his character is almost 100% pure, malevolent evil. Yes, he’s got another ridiculous scheme to take control of the universe, but it’s somewhat believable given the way he plays it. Beevers’ confrontation with McCoy is somewhat let down by the Doctor, but Beevers’ performance is excellent throughout. Additionally, the part 2 cliffhanger is stunning — you’ll never see it coming if you haven’t heard it before. Granted, if you haven’t heard it before, and you’ve read this review, then you know, but… yeah.

    As for the supporting cast, they’re mostly unnoticeable, though Caroline John adopts an absolutely ridiculous accent as Madam Salvadori. That being said, the accent didn’t bother me — she sounds like she actually possesses the accent, whatever it may be, and therefore her lines sounded convincing. Johnson Willis, though, is abysmal as Damien Pierson, a terribly-written lunatic that Willis decides to play as ridiculously effeminate. Quite why he made that choice, I may never know, but the listeners certainly regret it.

    On the production side of things, Dust Breeding features yet another marvelous Russell Stone score. His compositions are continually excellent, and the score at the play’s conclusion is more of the same. Gary Russell does about as well as can be expected with the direction — one gets the impression he was unwilling to put his foot down over the actors’ decisions on how to portray their characters, for example. There’s nothing particularly distinctive about Gareth Jenkins’s sound design, as this is another “wall of sound”-type production. Still, the company should be saluted for its work on concealing the presence of the Master, and Clayton Hickman offers yet another exceptional cover.

    Overall, Dust Breeding is a major misstep for Big Finish that has its flaws covered up by one of the most celebrated cliffhangers in Doctor Who history. Geoffrey Beevers’ performance notwithstanding, this simply isn’t very good — but that’s to be expected from Mike Tucker, who hasn’t produced anything good since Illegal Alien.

    3/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:26 pm
  • From Styre on 020 – Loups-Garoux

    LOUPS-GAROUX

    After a season of Paul McGann audios that could best be described as “uneven” and more appropriately as “garbage,” Big Finish spearheaded its return to past Doctor plays with Loups-Garoux, an offering from Ghost Light and Lungbarrow scribe Marc Platt. Platt’s reputation as a writer is mostly unimpeachable, and he demonstrates why with this play, a strong (yet very imperfect) offering that gives Peter Davison his first truly successful Big Finish audio appearance.

    This is a very strong play in a thematic sense, with various perspectives on the nature of love being contrasted against one another against the backdrop of a werewolf story. There’s the love by Ileana for her son, the desire for Ileana by Stubbe, the various competitions between Stubbe and Lichtfuss, the Doctor’s lack of comfort with women, and of course Turlough and Rosa. It’s all done hauntingly well, the impression of a tragic tale being given throughout and the ending delivering on that promise, however indirectly. Indeed, the entire plot is driven by characters’ personal relationships, delivering a sense of intimacy not normally seen in Doctor Who. It’s refreshing on its face but highly enjoyable besides.

    Furthermore, Platt’s decision to involve werewolves — apparently a long time coming, according to The Inside Story — is itself excellent. It requires the author to give his werewolf characters both human and wolfen characteristics, and Platt does a fine job of constructing a pack mentality among the werewolves. The descriptions of the werewolves’ increased attachment to nature is fascinating, and the counterpointing of Rosa’s Native American beliefs against the physical nature of the wolves is similarly intriguing. Some of the foreshadowing — the pack of dogs near the start, for example — is a bit clumsy, but for the most part this is the same sort of nuanced writing seen in Ghost Light.

    Peter Davison is absolutely superb as the fifth Doctor in this, his seventh appearance for Big Finish. This is easily the best capturing of his old-man-in-a-young-man’s-body characterization of the Davison releases to this point, and the actor’s matured voice lends perfect credence. In a way, the fact that Davison is much older than he was on television is perfect for the character — he can lend world-weariness to the role without having to worry about looking like he’s 28 again. His exchange with Turlough over proper behavior with women is a particular delight, while he frequently recaptures his somewhat helpless, desperate persona with ease.

    Mark Strickson’s Turlough is the true revelation of this play, however. While true that he sounds very little like the young, hyperactive character seen on television, Platt has allowed the character to mature along with the actor, and Turlough is heard to be much more introspective and much less over the top. His reminiscences of his home planet nicely foreshadow Planet of Fire. It’s a shame that Strickson has not appeared as Turlough since Loups-Garoux, as this play reveals that under all the OTT scenery-chewing there’s a talented actor playing a decent character.

    As an uncultured American, I’m afraid I know next to nothing about the apparently-famous trio of Eleanor Bron, Nicky Henson, and Burt Kwouk outside of their Doctor Who appearances. Despite this, their performances in Loups-Garoux are absolutely first-rate: Henson absolutely drips evil, Bron is commanding yet heartbreaking, and Kwouk’s desperation comes across perfectly. Jane Burke is decent as Inez, while David Hankinson is a bit over the top as Lichtfuss, but the side is really let down by Sarah Gale, both in performance and in character.

    Why it is that Big Finish insist on stapling otherwise-talented actors to American (or other) accents is beyond me, as these almost invariably destroy their performances. To me, it’s not about whether the accent itself is convincing, it’s whether or not the actor can use the accent without thinking about it. For example, in the subsequent play Dust Breeding, Caroline John adopts an absolutely ludicrous accent, but she still acts the part convincingly. Why? Because she’s good enough with the accent that she can concentrate on the content of her lines rather than their pronunciation. Here, Gale is clearly struggling to produce an American accent, so much so that she mangles her lines, emphasizing incorrect words and delivering inappropriate emotions. Furthermore, I’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but this marks two consecutive plays with a quirky, sarcastic teenage girl that, through some sort of supernatural assistance/command, fights monsters. This may work perfectly in Buffy, but in both Loups-Garoux and Minuet in Hell it just sounds corny. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to give me more than jokey remarks plus some ramblings about a grandfather and the Great Spirit to convince me that a 110-pound girl can give a serious challenge to a pack of werewolves.

    On the production side of things, The Inside Story tells of some terrible problems with the audio production. I believe I detected some of these problems, as some of the werewolf voices started to clip, making it very obvious that they were filtered human voices (and yes, I know they don’t record actual werewolves). Despite this, the sound design is, as usual, excellent, with special note going to the sounds of the train. Nicholas Pegg’s direction is demonstrated well in the pace and performances — this play uses every one of its 137 minutes without once feeling padded. And, lastly, Clayton Hickman’s cover design is great — has everyone noticed the wolf’s head in the upper right corner? It took me over a year to spot…

    Issues with accents and production difficulty aside, Loups-Garoux is the first real home run for Peter Davison’s Doctor. It’s quiet, it’s thoughtful, it’s romantic, and it’s full of werewolf action — a success for Marc Platt and another testament to how good Big Finish can be when it’s on target.

    Highly recommended.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:25 pm
  • From Styre on 019 – Minuet in Hell

    MINUET IN HELL

    It’s impossible to expect excellent production every time out from any Doctor Who medium. The superb Telos novella range had a couple of bad releases, and I’m confident not every new series TV episode will be regarded as a classic of modern television. However, it is entirely reasonable to expect basic competence in every release, a goal at which Big Finish fails so miserably with Minuet in Hell that words are almost insufficient for the purposes of description.

    The Inside Story is rife with stories of the production of Minuet in Hell, describing in detail how all involved were aware of the shaky, overlong nature of the script. It is my belief that BF would have been better off paying everyone involved and not bothering to actually record the play, for what was released is an absolute travesty of recorded drama. Alan W. Lear’s script (apparently heavily rewritten by Gary Russell) is laughably bad — we’re talking “Plan 9 From Outer Space” bad, with absolutely ludicrous dialogue and inane, ignorant plotting. The central conceit of the play is excellent in concept: the Doctor, amnesiac and imprisoned in an asylum, is confronted with another man convinced that he is, in fact, the Doctor. Unfortunately, this is stupidly executed, with Paul McGann playing the Doctor and Nicholas Briggs playing the impostor Gideon Crane. The result of this casting? There is absolutely no confusion over the true identity of the Doctor, and the resultant exploration of the situation over 140 minutes becomes mind-numbing.

    The other primary plot of the play, that of the new state in the American South, Malebolgia, and its internal politics, is, quite simply, stupid. Why is there a new state? Why is it called Malebolgia? Wouldn’t the population of the most intensely-religious part of the country possibly object to their new state being named after the *eighth circle of hell*? Is there even a single unique thing about this interpretation of the Hellfire Club? Could this be the most clichéd portrayal of the South in the entire history of fiction? Is there anything good to be said at all? (No.)

    I’m not quite sure how Paul McGann was eager to continue working with Big Finish after being subjected to this nonsense. His character is almost totally sidelined in a situation sapped of any drama or intrigue by terrible structuring. McGann’s performance is uneven, as though he’s unsure of his character’s situation or motivation. Many people like the “everyone in the universe is the Doctor except for me” scene; I think it’s cringeworthy. Of course, Nicholas Briggs also gets to spend time as “the Doctor” — he’s not bad, but the entire thing smells of self-indulgence to me.

    This production, surprisingly, is the least annoying outing of the first four for India Fisher’s Charley, mostly because it almost totally sidelines her. Of course, the usual problems are present, as she completely fails to flinch in the face of a threat from an honest-to-god demon and throws sarcastic comments around, but at least she’s somewhat subdued when she does so. The continued hints about her “condition” are nice, but they’re very small diamonds in a very large rough patch.

    Nicholas Courtney returns to the role of the Brigadier for this production, and he turns in his usual assured performance. Of course, the concept of his character’s involvement is, as always, a bit questionable, but he handles it well. Courtney even manages to convince during a blatant expositionary scene involving emails — shame the director decided that his contact on the other side could read and respond to those emails at the speed of light, thus stripping the scenes of any sense of realism. Lear’s original idea was for the Brigadier never to know that McGann’s character was the Doctor, which is an interesting conceit, but this was vetoed in favor of embarrassing scenes of McGann and Courtney slobbering over each other like schoolgirls once the Doctor’s identity is revealed.

    Of course, no discussion of Minuet in Hell would be complete without an excoriation of the supporting cast, easily the worst ever assembled for a Big Finish production. The script makes the common mistake of setting the story in America, putting the actors behind the proverbial 8-ball, but there’s nothing even attempted in the manner of overcoming this challenge. Robert Jezek’s idea of an accent is half-Brooklyn-half-Southern, and his performance as Dashwood strikes exactly one note: clichéd lunatic. I gather that Morgan Deare is actually American, so of course he decided to play Pickering as Colonel Sanders rather than as, say, an actual Southerner. His turn as Marchosias is insulting to the intelligence: the demon stomps around tossing off “witty” (read: terrible) quips and insults at the regular characters. “Here I am, eight foot of red sweaty demon” indeed. Maureen Oakeley sounds like she stopped by the studio for five minutes on the way to the store with all the effort she puts into Pargeter. But the worst of all is Helen Goldwyn, whose performance (for lack of a better term) as Becky Lee Kowalczyck easily ranks as one of the worst in the history of performed Doctor Who. She embarrasses herself with the accent while simultaneously investing the character with the worst sort of chirpy arrogance. Of course, the character itself is idiotic, the perfect representation of the perception of Buffy the Vampire Slayer by people that hate Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

    Perhaps the only highlight of the play is William Allen’s unique musical score. Nicholas Briggs’ sound design is adequate, representing the “desperate BF” style that bears itself out as lots of confusing loud noises. The work on the whispering voices at the play’s open is very nice — too bad it’s a minute and a half long for no reason. It’s impossible to comment too much on Briggs’ direction, as the only wise decision he could have made as director would have been to throw the entire thing in the trash.

    Some may say that this review is unnecessarily harsh; I assure you that it is not. I have listened to Minuet in Hell exactly two times, once when I bought it and once for this review, and I will never again put it into a CD player. Not only the worst BF production, this is arguably the worst Doctor Who story of any medium. Execrable stuff that, by all rights, should never have been made in the first place.

    Don’t buy it. If you already did, throw it away.

    0/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:24 pm
  • From Styre on 018 – The Stones of Venice

    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

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    2016/05/07 at 10:23 pm
  • From Styre on 017 – Sword of Orion

    SWORD OF ORION

    After the biggest misfire to that point in the range, Big Finish required a strong rebound in its second Paul McGann production. Redrafting an old Nicholas Briggs Audio Visuals script was a perfectly reasonable idea, as the result would essentially be known in advance — and Briggs’ reworked script is a very solid, if unmemorable, entry into the Doctor Who canon.

    Sword of Orion has suffered a great deal of fan criticism, most of it revolving around the fact that the play is mostly derivative, coming across as something of a Cyberman “greatest hits” compilation. Quite why this is inherently bad is unclear, given that most of Doctor Who wasn’t exactly shockingly original, but I’m willing to bet that the criticism stems from the fact that Sword of Orion reminds one of an Eric Saward story. It’s very similar — a very dark, gritty scifi tale featuring large, empty spaceships and a creeping menace in the shadows. Sure, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before, but it’s done very well — the characters convey fear when necessary and the resident bad guys are suitably intimidating. Though it’s no surprise when the Cybermen turn up at the conclusion of part 1, their apparent insanity is enough to put a scare into the listener. The conclusion, with everyone dead save the Doctor and Charley, is also quite Sawardian in execution.

    I mentioned in my review of The Mutant Phase that Briggs usually does very well with the small details but struggles with the overarching elements, and this is again the case. I adore the opening scenes of Sword of Orion at the bazaar — this is exactly the sort of thing we should see more of in Doctor Who, the TARDIS making intermediary stops at backwater locations. It’s incredibly alien, especially that repeated tone that seems to infuriate some reviewers, and I love it to bits. Unfortunately, the actual plot of the play doesn’t make too much sense, as the Cybermen seem to act for the sake of dramatic convenience rather than out of any sense of logic. The revelation about Jansen is painfully obvious, and her subordinates seem to blend together.

    Paul McGann’s second outing as the eighth Doctor is another success, as he retains that infectious enthusiasm seen throughout Storm Warning. His confrontations with the Cyberleader are very amusing, as he positively delights in pointing out logical flaws in the villain’s arguments. Admittedly, his role isn’t the strongest, but that just adds to the Sawardian feel — McGann is more than capable of dominating a play despite not being given the full power of the spotlight.

    India Fisher’s second outing is much more tolerable than her first, though it still features elements which annoyed me to no end. Despite my love of the bazaar setting, Charley’s behavior — completely patronizing and totally unimpressed — almost put me off the scene. Briggs writes her as an Edwardian Benny minus the alcoholism; Charley is all bad jokes and sarcastic quips in the face of giant awful metal men. Every now and then, she’s given the chance to mispronounce the name of some future technology to remind us that yes, she’s actually from the past, but you couldn’t tell from the rest of the performance.

    The supporting cast, as mentioned above, tends to blend together. They’re spiky, hard-boiled scifi cliches, with Collins, Marr, and Montague turning in solid performances. Michelle Livingston does a fine job as Jansen but her character is simply too obvious to be gripping. As for the Cybermen, Nicholas Briggs and Alistair Lock provide excellent voice work. Much like the new Dalek voices in The Genocide Machine, it takes time to get used to a Cyberman voiced by someone other than David Banks, but these voices and performances are nicely distinctive.

    As with his other scripts, Nicholas Briggs ran the entire production of Sword of Orion, and it shows. As writer, he knows exactly how everything should sound, and as director he knows exactly how to put it all together — plus his sound design is very good. Some of the effects are a bit confusing, and the opening scene with Ramsay is utterly incomprehensible (and terrible), but overall this is yet another strong production effort for the range.

    Much like the earlier The Apocalypse Element, this is a big-budget scifi epic featuring an old enemy but lacking much original thought. Much like that play, this is savaged by people who refuse to accept that Doctor Who sometimes isn’t the most original show ever produced. But unlike scripts such as The Sirens of Time or The Genocide Machine, there isn’t actually anything wrong with Sword of Orion — it’s just nothing new. For that, I’m supposed to give it a bad grade? No — it’s an enjoyable way to spend two hours and it’s so much better than Storm Warning it’s almost unfair.

    Recommended, just don’t expect a revolution.

    6/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:22 pm
  • From Styre on 016 – Storm Warning

    STORM WARNING

    After getting their feet wet with fifteen audio plays featuring past Doctors Peter Davison, Colin Baker, and Sylvester McCoy, Big Finish unveiled their greatest coup: contracting Paul McGann to perform in a series of original eighth Doctor plays. While the past Doctor plays were inherently limited due to the known fates of the regular characters, these new plays would carry no such restrictions. Furthermore, they would serve as a forum for McGann to demonstrate why he was cast in the role in the first place — fans would finally have more than ninety minutes of eighth Doctor to enjoy. Because of these factors, it is not unreasonable to call Storm Warning the single most important Doctor Who story between the TV movie and new series premiere episode Rose — and much like BF premiere offering The Sirens of Time, Storm Warning is a complete failure in almost every measurable dimension.

    The pre-credits sequence, featuring the Doctor standing at the TARDIS console and yelling a lot, may be the worst scene in the entire history of Doctor Who. It’s utter trash, McGann waffling on about events the listener is entirely incapable of perceiving in their mind’s eye. When I first listened to Storm Warning, I almost switched it off, and my reaction this time around was no different. Alan Barnes has absolutely no idea how to write for audio — which shouldn’t surprise anyone given his background in writing the Doctor Who comic strip and the statement in Inside Story that he “thinks in terms of images” — and this is apparent throughout the play. Whenever anything important happens, the characters don’t simply react, they stand around telling each other about it first. Sure, there are intriguing little set pieces, such as the scenes with the “mysterious passenger” — but these are completely undercut with the absolutely woeful dialogue.

    As if that wasn’t bad enough, the alien Triskele are some of the most boring aliens ever seen in Doctor Who. Sure, the everything-in-threes idea is interesting, and the subversion of the alien warriors is somewhat amusing, but what brings them down along with everything else? Every time we see them, they’re standing around telling the other characters things! How are the Uncreators defeated? By being roared at! This, of course, prompts cliched, embarrassing scenes of people who wouldn’t otherwise roar being convinced to overcome their fear/embarrassment. Episode three is especially poor, seeming to last about six hours and being filled with Star Trek-caliber material — and not even good Star Trek material — wherein we explore and learn to respect an alien race.

    Yet despite the ludicrous mountain of factors working against him, Paul McGann somehow manages to turn in an excellent performance as the Doctor. After hearing this performance, using the term “breathless enthusiasm” no longer works for the fifth Doctor, as this is exactly how McGann’s Doctor is played. He’s enjoying every minute of his adventure, pausing to express delight at beautiful sights and sounds, and it’s a delight to hear. Seeing this performance on television would have been wonderful, but it’s still great to have McGann back in the role. Even in the diabolical opening scene he’s incredibly Doctorish — this is an incredibly skilled actor who slips back into the role as though he’d been playing it on television for years.

    On the other side of the coin, we have India Fisher’s Charley Pollard, who managed to irritate me after about only ten seconds of screen time. I grant that this is a personal preference, and that Fisher may in fact be playing the role exactly as scripted, but I absolutely cannot stand overly enthusiastic, overemotional people, and Charley’s constant, insufferable smug cheeriness just makes me want to slap her. This is much easier to take in other audios written by talented authors, but here she’s just as annoying as everything around her.

    The supporting cast are, at least, fleshed out in surprising fashion, as Barnes’ script develops them as clichés but then subverts those same clichés by allowing them unusual in-character behavior. Gareth Thomas is particularly good as Tamworth, while Barnaby Edwards is sufficiently menacing as Rathbone. Helen Goldwyn, though, just annoys as the Triskele, but that’s hardly her fault, given the quality of the character.

    Discussion of the production must begin with David Arnold’s new theme arrangement, and it is rather impressive — though in McGann’s first season of plays, it’s a bit too muddy and effects-ridden. Episode one is a bit disconcerting as well — when I first heard the play, I thought the five-second theme “sting” at the very start was the entire thing! The production of Storm Warning specifically is, as always, excellent, with Alistair Lock’s sound design lending an epic, big-budget feel to proceedings. His score is a particular delight, arguably the best of the releases thus far. Gary Russell’s direction does what it can with the material, but one would suggest that Russell’s failure came when he commissioned the script in the first place.

    After falling flat on their collective faces with The Sirens of Time, Big Finish recovered to release a number of impressive plays in its first fifteen releases. The advent of the first McGann season, though, demonstrated that BF hadn’t learned a thing from its initial mistakes, causing the first McGann play to take its place as the worst thing the company had released to that point. Almost totally irredeemable, and made worse by the fact that one must possess it if one is to understand the McGann arc, I cannot in good conscience recommend Storm Warning to anyone for any reason save the performance of McGann himself.

    Then again, the cover is nice.

    2/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:21 pm
  • From Styre on 015 – The Mutant Phase

    THE MUTANT PHASE

    With three Dalek releases in fifteen tries, Big Finish would eventually be forced to try something new with the classic Doctor Who villains. While nothing whatsoever was done in The Genocide Machine, and The Apocalypse Element followed the obvious fan wet dream of Daleks on Gallifrey, only The Mutant Phase tried something different — but abandoned that concept in the process.

    Writer-director Nicholas Briggs’ script was written from a basic premise: what if the Daleks, horror of the universe that they are, were themselves terrified of something even deadlier and more ruthless? From this comes the Mutant Phase, a mutated strain of Dalek that, as far as I can tell, transforms into a giant spacefaring swarm of insects that drain the life from every planet they encounter. This is more than a little silly, but it is to Briggs’ credit that he writes convincing scared Daleks — their plaintive screams of “MUTANT PHAAAAAAAASE” are hilarious, yes, but also frightening in context. The image of a destroyed Earth is horrifying, but it is Briggs’ subsequent decision that severely undercuts the drama of the production.

    The Mutant Phase is, of course, a paradox story, and it is upon this element of the story that Briggs chooses to focus to the exclusion of all else. The nature of the Mutant Phase itself is, for the most part, ignored, while its origins are explored in excruciating detail. While the concept of a self-sustaining paradox is interesting, and the image of a Dalek Emperor inhabiting a humanoid form and attempting to convince “real” Daleks of his identity is amusing, the fact remains that a paradoxical universe contains no real threats except for those presented to the main characters. We know from countless other Doctor Who adventures that Earth was not depopulated by the Mutant Phase, so we know that the status quo will be restored by the conclusion of the play. And the Doctor’s explanations at the play’s conclusion — punctuated by a laugh! — just serve to demonstrate further how unimportant the preceding two hours actually were.

    That being said, Peter Davison’s performance is again strong, showing that he’s really starting to get back into the role after so much time away. Briggs gives him a weaker character than that seen in previous BF outings, so he’s forced to surrender from time to time and perform actions against his better judgement. Davison injects into the character the same degree of uncertainty seen on television, yet maintains the level of maturity seen in BF due to his age. This may be the most fallible Doctor of any of the first set of BF productions, but it’s fun to hear all the same.

    Sarah Sutton’s Nyssa seems to have settled down, as well. After being misused in The Land of the Dead and mischaracterized in Winter for the Adept, here she is assertive yet understanding, all the while demonstrating her intelligence and even getting the opportunity to put her science background to use.

    The supporting characters are entertaining as well, with Mark Gatiss stealing the show as Karl Hendryk. Christopher Blake and Jared Morgan do well as Ptolem and Ganatus, though it is Morgan whose performance as the irate Dalek emperor serves as the highlight of the fourth episode. Andrew Ryan and Sara Wakefield, though, are basically just “there” as residents of the paradoxical Earth, and sudden exterminations do little to pique the emotions.

    Production on The Mutant Phase is of the usual excellent quality expected from Big Finish. Briggs handled almost every era of the production, and his sound design matches perfectly with his direction, as one might expect. I especially enjoyed the sound of wasps — or should I say I hated it, as I have a paralyzing fear of the things? Either way, it was quite convincing. Of course, the stars of the production were the Dalek voices, which were the most convincing of the three pre-McGann Dalek efforts. The Emperor in particular was excellent, sounding very close to the Troughton-era Emperor — or at least what I’ve heard of him.

    Had Briggs decided to simply tell a story about what scares the Daleks, he might have had a hit on his hands. However, he decided to entangle everything in a paradox and erase the threat from existence. It’s not that The Mutant Phase is badly written but simply that it’s carelessly written: instead of a gripping, dramatic story we have a boring, perfunctory yarn with a nightmare of an ending. Briggs always seems to write the details well, but the overarching story? Swing and a miss.

    5/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:20 pm
  • From Styre on 014 – The Holy Terror

    THE HOLY TERROR

    Having tested the waters of the so-called “side step” with The Shadow of the Scourge’s foray into the NA universe, Big Finish next turned its attention to the DWM comic strips, bringing the sixth Doctor’s shapeshifting companion, Frobisher, into the audio realm. Unfortunately, the mere concept of this combination drove potential customers away in droves, as they presumably expected a mindless throwaway comedy story — but nothing could be further from the truth.

    Award-winning playwright Robert Shearman’s first offering for the range offers an intelligent, darkly-humorous take on the nature of religion, yet retains a classical Doctor Who sense throughout. The opening scenes send the listener into quasi-Python territory, with Spanish Inquisition-esque gags about torture and repentance. As the play progresses, however, these scenes are revealed to be much more serious than first perceived; this darkly satirical examination of the nature of religion-driven society creeps up on the listener rather than being patently obvious — despite the obvious nature of the initial jokes. Pepin’s complete hopelessness is highly amusing, while Clovis’ stereotypical nature is underscored to great effect by the script.

    Yet the true excellence of The Holy Terror is its skill at managing tones. While the first two episodes are comedic — indeed, the first cliffhanger has something of a gag resolution — the final two abruptly change the tone of the play from comedy to horror. Childeric’s plan, rooted in the theory of the “divine language,” does not mesh with the tone of his environment — it quickly becomes apparent that his experiment with the child is breaking stereotype, something which feels extremely threatening in the world of the castle. The release of Tacitus’ son is terrifying, the humor rapidly departing the play as the slaughter continues. Finally, the conclusion, in which the whole of the environment is revealed to be a torture device for a mad old man who has murdered his son, is heartbreaking, Eugene turning his son’s knife on himself with the Doctor and Frobisher powerless to stop it. By the time the Doctor’s opening admonition to Frobisher has been turned back upon him and the credits have rolled, The Holy Terror has grown into one of the most intelligent scripts in Doctor Who’s long history — even with the penguin on the cover.

    Colin Baker is astonishing in this story, as every positive element of his character is brought to the forefront with ease. His tendency to lecture works perfectly in this environment, while Baker allows the Doctor’s (for lack of a better term) “humanity” to shine forth even as the artificiality of the surrounding environment is revealed. He is perhaps strongest at the conclusion, where we see a powerless, defeated sixth Doctor — Baker never once loses his grip on the character, yet again forcing one to ask: what could have been?

    The most controversial element of the play prior to release was the inclusion of comic strip companion Frobisher, but even for those who have never read a single Frobisher comic (myself included), Robert Jezek’s performance is natural enough to convince the listener after only a few minutes. Combined with some subtle sound design, Jezek somehow manages to sound exactly as one would expect a shapeshifting penguin to sound — but Shearman’s presentation of Frobisher focuses on more than merely his appearance. This is a very sympathetic character, one with a strong sense of morality but simultaneously one who gets in over his head far too often. Frobisher’s scenes with Pepin are funny, yes, but they’re also poignant: a “big talking bird” educates a god-emperor on the principles of free will without a hint of self-awareness.

    The supporting cast, meanwhile, absolutely shines, with Stefan Atkinson turning in a performance as Pepin that is at once funny, pathetic, and noble. Roberta Taylor is wonderfully evil as Berengaria — it is difficult to believe that, as claimed in The Inside Story, she had little to no understanding of the script. Peter Guinness is appropriately menacing for the stereotypical villain of the piece. The true star of the play, though, is Sam Kelly, whose dual role as Eugene and his son stands as one of the great acting performances in series history. That he can go from an absentminded old man to a terrifying sociopathic five year old in the same scene, much less in the same sentence, is an achievement, and his performance at the conclusion is astonishing.

    The Holy Terror is, additionally, flawless on the production front. Gareth Jenkins’ sound design is excellent, an achievement which takes on greater meaning when one considers the nature of Shearman’s script: possibly for the first time in BF Doctor Who history, this is a script completely bereft of awkward visual exposition, and thus it requires talented sound design to realize its images in the ear. Russell Stone’s score is yet another masterpiece, possibly the best of his work on the range. Nicholas Pegg’s direction is equally strong, not only by assembling a stellar cast but drawing out superior performances from all involved — even Shearman himself in a bit part as a sculptor.

    That The Holy Terror has sold so poorly is a tragedy; that people will write off a story because of unfamiliar characters is depressing. This is a story that deserves to be heard by every fan. As a production it is flawless, as a BF audio it is one of, if not the best, and as a Doctor Who story it deserves to stand alongside the great classics of every medium.

    Stunningly good.

    10/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:19 pm
  • From Styre on 013 – The Shadow of the Scourge

    THE SHADOW OF THE SCOURGE

    With the success seen by BF in its explorations of different eras of Doctor Who, it was only a matter of time before a journey was made into the nineties version of Doctor Who: the New Adventures. After all, the company had already been producing independent audio adventures featuring NA companion Bernice Summerfield, and the Doctor Who license gave them the opportunity to explore a variety of Who that had previously been confined to the printed page. Commissioning Paul Cornell, possibly the most highly-regarded author of the range, to write the script simply pushed the script closer to the realm of automatic success.

    This, unfortunately, made the play’s failures all the more shocking.

    It is obvious from the opening scene that The Shadow of the Scourge was written as a truly archetypal NA; rather than simply penning a new NA it seems as though Cornell has decided to sum up everything he remembers of the range in one four-part script. Observe: the Doctor enters a situation with a masterplan that fails spectacularly about halfway through; his companions vacillate between trusting him and becoming suspicious; Ace still likes blowing things up but is much more professional and “hard” about it; Benny has a one-liner for every occasion; there is a journey into the Doctor’s mind (something which defined about one NA but is somehow perceived as definitive); and the bad guy is an anthropormorphized (well, er, insect-ized) concept. All very well and good, but the problem lies with the resolution, which doesn’t remind me of the NAs at all. I’ll admit that it’s been a while since I read through the range, but The Shadow of the Scourge concludes with everyone involved having a battle with their conscience and being restored by their friends, after which they defeat the bad guy by thinking happy thoughts.

    Furthermore, while the personified Eternals seen in the NAs (Death, Time, etc.) never bothered me, the Scourge just infuriate me. Many have overlooked this, but it must be stated: as written, the Scourge are not a representation of nor an allegory for human fear and despair. They *are* human self-doubt, and, at the play’s conclusion, their defeat is the literal triumph of humanity over its failings. Yes, the Scourge feed on these things but they also create them — so remember, the next time you feel worn down or otherwise depressed, it’s only because an alien parasite is making you feel that way. It’s a shame that their true nature is so ridiculous, because had the Scourge merely fed on human self-doubt rather than causing it as well, they’d have been a classic Doctor Who villain. As it happens, they’re just weak.

    Villains aside, Cornell does an excellent job with his regular characters. His Doctor is every inch the NA Doctor, scheming and failing in equal measure, and his ability to appear suddenly in the midst of chaos brings a smile to the face. Sylvester McCoy’s performance is excellent, as he’s always done very well with scripts that let him play an alternately brooding and lighthearted Doctor. His scream as he transforms into a Scourge is absolutely terrifying, and his performance as the Doctor besotted by self-doubt within his own mind is solid, if unusual. One can only imagine the facial expressions seen in studio during these scenes.

    The Ace presented here is a very good later-NA Ace, combining her hardened post-Deceit exterior nicely with her enthusiastic pre-Love and War personality. There’s quite a bit of nuance available in the script, but unfortunately Sophie Aldred seems to miss the point entirely, playing the character as TV-Ace-who-doesn’t-whine-quite-as-much. The lines are those of someone who spent years alternately travelling with the Doctor and fighting Daleks on the front line; the performance is not. The eardrum-bursting, though, is quite enjoyable even as it induces cringes.

    Benny Summerfield is a particular strength of the script. Created as she was by Cornell, it would not have been surprising to see her earn the lion’s share of the action, but she plays the companion role admirably, lending her own unique perspective to the action. Though I’ve never heard Lisa Bowerman’s performance in the BF Benny audio range (save for The Plague Herds of Excelis), here she sounds exactly as I’d imagined.

    Production-wise, this is another strong effort from Big Finish. Alistair Lock’s sound design is excellent as always, especially in the opening scenes — without ever having heard sounds to accompany my NA-reading, the score and sound in these scenes struck me as having a perfect “NA feel.” It’s also very well-paced — Gary Russell continues to prove himself a strong director, one able to produce a tight script with fine performances. However, a better effort could have been made with the Scourge voices — their tendency to address their leader as “Leader” coupled with their voice filters makes them sound exactly like Cybermen, which is quite distracting.

    I try not to guess motives behind scripts, but it seems to me as though Paul Cornell aimed to make The Shadow of the Scourge the ultimate representation of everything the NAs were about. Unfortunately, grand tributes like this are incredibly difficult to pull off without slipping into hackneyed territory, and here Cornell comes down on the wrong side of the line. Indeed, I’d thought he’d already written his tribute to the series in Happy Endings. Cornell is a strong author (even on audio — look at Seasons of Fear, an excellent offering) but The Shadow of the Scourge just seems more concerned with paying tribute than with telling a strong story. This, coupled with a particular acting deficiency, renders the play one of the weakest of BF’s pre-McGann output, and this is all the more disappointing given the rare nature of the source material over the remainder of the range.

    4/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:18 pm
  • From Styre on 012 – The Fires of Vulcan

    THE FIRES OF VULCAN

    After the success of The Marian Conspiracy, it was unsurprising that Big Finish would return to the historical genre. With The Fires of Vulcan, they turned to veteran Who author Steve Lyons, one of the most acclaimed writers of the BBC/Virgin range, and he did not disappoint, turning in a fine script that helped bridge the S24/25 gap and provide yet another renaissance for a previously reviled Doctor Who character.

    The setting of The Fires of Vulcan — Pompeii at the time of the eruption of Vesuvius — is easily the greatest strength of the story, as both the listener and the main characters know exactly what is destined to happen within a matter of hours. As such, a sense of impending doom hangs over the play, compounded by the naive ignorance of the residents of the city. Upon the eruption of the volcano, the drama intensifies, making the complete faith of those who refused to evacuate even more painful to hear. Lyons additionally offers some historical depth, as some of the characters in the play are real historical figures — but of course the author is able to offer his own interpretations of their personalities, as little more than their names are known.

    The central conceit of the play — the paradox — is well-handled, with the framing device at the open providing an extra level of urgency. I love the idea of the TARDIS being excavated at Pompeii, and, though the ultimate justification for this at the conclusion has been called a cop-out by some, it merely demonstrates ingenuity on the part of the Doctor. The paradox is hardly the reason for the play’s existence, after all, as it exists to drive the characters, who are the main focus of the script.

    After a questionable outing in The Genocide Machine, Sylvester McCoy’s seventh Doctor returns to form here, offering a brooding, melancholy take on the character that is refreshingly free of NA-style scheming. The Doctor’s reluctance to get involved is perfectly fitting with the season 24 character — we see him enter a mood like this in Time and the Rani, for example — and Lyons ably demonstrates with this character that season 24 stories are not limited to farcical runarounds. McCoy’s performance is excellent, his melancholy utterly believable, and his inflection subdued and free of gratuitous rolled “r”s.

    The true revelation of The Fires of Vulcan, though, is Bonnie Langford, who returns for the first time to her companion role as Mel. Written on TV as an irritating, sanctimonious idiot, the announcement of Mel in a Big Finish production brought great suspicion from Who fans who believed that The Fires of Vulcan would turn into a latter-day Paradise Towers. Lyons, however, writes the character perfectly, maintaining all of her good qualities (honest, moralistic, etc.) while actually making her act like a real human being. Sure, her protests against the Roman culture of slavery aren’t the wisest protests to make, but they’re not silly, nor are they annoying. And Langford’s performance backs this up — she’s got the same enthusiasm as before but it’s a much more nuanced performance. This Mel is a perfect foil for the brooding Doctor; I’d love to see more pairings of this variety.

    The supporting cast is strong as usual, with a particularly strong performance by Steven Wickham as Murranus. His performance evokes Brian Blessed, yet Lyons gives the character believable motivation, correctly pointing out that public perception is a life and death matter to a gladiator. Gemma Bissix is fine as Aglae, though there’s nothing too challenging about the role, but I have to wonder about Nicky Goldie’s role — did ancient Rome really have small-town Brit-com innkeepers?

    Alistair Lock’s sound design might be the best yet, as the usual wall-of-sound BF style for loud noises works perfectly here; the erupting volcano seems to be everywhere at once. The music is similarly fitting, adding an eerie, doomladen atmosphere to the play. Gary Russell does his usual strong job as director, while particular praise should be extended to Clayton Hickman for an excellent cover design.

    The Fires of Vulcan is the second strong historical offering from Big Finish, and it features little in the way of flaws. While there isn’t much in the way of subtext in the play, it offers a unique and masterful take on season 24, giving a new take on the seventh Doctor and Mel and surrounding it with an excellent production. Very strongly recommended.

    9/10

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    2016/05/07 at 10:18 pm
  • From Styre on 011 – The Apocalypse Element

    THE APOCALYPSE ELEMENT

    Despite the traditional nature of most of the first series of BF audios, none, save The Sirens of Time, came across as “fannish” in concept — but the eleventh release would change all that, as Stephen Cole’s The Apocalypse Element featured not only the return of Romana to the series but also a Dalek invasion of Gallifrey. Unfortunately, the simple fact that such a scenario took place seems like enough for many reviewers to condemn The Apocalypse Element, but, despite some utterly ludicrous plot elements, it stands up well enough on its own as an enjoyable action blockbuster.

    Unfortunately, The Apocalypse Element attempts to do far too much in terms of its plot. The opening episodes which take place on Archetryx stand up very well, conveying a sense of impending doom, but by the time the action moves to Gallifrey, things have simply gotten out of hand. In order to allow the Daleks onto Gallifrey, Cole is forced to make the Time Lords behave in exceptionally stupid fashion, something which Vansell’s ambition really doesn’t justify. The Dalek plan, in ultimate form, is just silly, requiring them to touch off the destruction of the ENTIRE UNIVERSE in order to convince the Time Lords to open their shields to stop it. Isn’t there a better way to accomplish that? In my opinion, any plan which threatens the entire universe is idiotic, as it’s very difficult to write something which convincingly offers such a threat and it’s also very difficult to come with a race insane enough to actually threaten it. Even the Daleks aren’t that insane, as we see them scrambling to stop the effect once they see that the Time Lords failing to act in time.

    The pace of the play, however, allows the listener to overlook some of the failings of the plot. There is very little obvious padding, as the plot is so complicated that it encompasses 137 minutes. It seems that a new revelation is brought to the listener’s ear every five minutes or so, revelations which only become ludicrous when taken as a whole rather than one at a time. The use of continuity, meanwhile, is entertaining, as we see many of the same Time Lords seen in The Sirens of Time while Romana is established as the Lord President and left to continue in that regard at the play’s conclusion. There’s nothing unwelcome about the use of continuity here — compare to Sirens, where every Gallifreyan word seemingly in existence was thrown at us in the opening scene. The retcon of the TV movie might qualify as an unnecessary inclusion, but to my mind, given the stupidity of that production, any attempt to explain it away is a good one.

    Colin Baker’s role in this play matches perfectly with its tone. His Doctor is allowed to retake much of his old bombast, as the situations call for a dramatic, angry Doctor — instead of his anger being directed at Peri, it’s directed at the Daleks and the threat they pose to the entire universe. His angry speech to Evelyn in the face of her sarcasm is brilliant as well — this is a Doctor who, through this point in BF, hasn’t had anything even approaching a poor performance.

    Evelyn Smythe, however, does much less well, as her character is reduced to little more than a series of wisecracks as a talking, mobile door opener. She takes everything here a bit too much in stride, as she sees arguably much worse here than that which reduced her to a tired wreck in The Spectre of Lanyon Moor. I can see from here where the dislike some hold for the character arises — her comments that bring about Baker’s speech are completely unwarranted and mostly unbelievable. This is not to say that Maggie Stables performs poorly, but Cole would do well to remember that Evelyn is more than an elderly Benny with a chocolate fetish.

    The Apocalypse Element marks the return of Lalla Ward to Doctor Who. The Inside Story tells us of how Cole originally intended to write Romana in more of her cheery, season 17 persona, but was reminded that twenty years in a Dalek prison camp tends to grind one down somewhat. Unfortunately, he decided to push things in the extreme opposite direction: Romana spends the entire play sounding morose and out of breath, whining and crying her way through endless linkups with the Dalek mental network. She sounds neither familiar nor presidential, giving a commanding tone only when pretending to sell out the Doctor. Lalla Ward plays this character very well — and, indeed, I’ll grant that it may be a realistic portrayal — but this had to be disappointing to anyone expecting to see the character as remembered.

    The supporting cast is decent, with Michael Wade’s President probably turning in the best performance. Anthony Keetch is slimy as ever as Vansell, and Karen Henson is good as Trinkett — but who decided to name the character Trinkett? Hilarious, and not in a good way. Nicholas Briggs’ sound design is, in a word, loud. I’m not sure I even noticed the score over the endless explosions and screaming, but it was probably good. Briggs does a better job with his actors than he did in The Genocide Machine — there’s hardly a poor performance on display.

    Loud, brash, and incoherent, The Apocalypse Element is Big Finish’s version of a summer blockbuster. As with most summer blockbusters, it’s not the most intelligent thing in the world but it’s enjoyable if you switch off your brain at the door. Quite why this has been abused in fan circles is beyond me; there’s certainly nothing offensively bad about it.

    6/10

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    2016/05/07 at 10:16 pm
  • From Styre on 010 – Winter for the Adept

    WINTER FOR THE ADEPT

    After two ultra-trad stories, one more successful than the other, producing an Andrew Cartmel script was an excellent move by BF. After all, the former script editor always possessed radical ideas about Doctor Who, and the idea of him tackling a fifth Doctor story seemed quite promising. Unfortunately, the great ambition of the script ultimately brings it down, but it should be applauded for attempting in some small way to reach above the ultratraditional groundings of the previous stories.

    Without question, the greatest strength of Winter for the Adept is its atmosphere. From the initial framing device, which instantly wraps the listener in the environment, Cartmel expertly crafts a convincing, scary environment for his characters. Cold weather creates a unique, immediate atmosphere, and the setting of the story in the Swiss Alps allows these feelings to grow. The idea of a haunted old school in the mountains is traditional ghost story stuff, but almost automatically lends itself to good drama — it’s almost hard not to be creepy in such a setting.

    For the first two episodes, the plot backs up the promise of its setting with a sinister, old-fashioned tale of a haunting. This isn’t to say the story is unrelentingly grim — the scene with the Doctor and Nyssa pursued by a haunted piano is quite funny — but such a pure ghost story is unusual for Doctor Who. Unfortunately (and, by the nature of the format, necessarily), rationality is forced to enter the tale, and the so-called poltergeist is revealed to be a combination of an alien influence and the uncontrolled psychic abilities of two of the resident students. Not that the Spillagers themselves are poorly written — any reference to one’s “ventral slaying claws” gets a thumbs-up from me — but, as with much Doctor Who of this variety, trying to crowbar in a scientific explanation for something that would work much more effectively sans justification just doesn’t come off. It is also apparent that Cartmel had little experience with the audio format at this time: the script is absolutely riddled with terrible expository dialogue that pulls the listener out of the story. I understand that it is difficult to accurately portray the sound of ski poles flying through the air without offering a description, but this story is simply too visual to function properly on audio.

    Cartmel always writes a great Doctor — his McCoy, obviously, and his subsequent Troughton for Telos were excellent — and his work here with Peter Davison is no different. This is a very proactive fifth Doctor, something which is generally out of character but is presented in believable fashion in this play. Cartmel plays to Davison’s strengths and, unlike Mike Tucker before him, creates a character who is both an excellent reinterpretation and a faithful recreation, impossible as that may sound.

    Nyssa does equally well; granted, she is placed into an NA-type situation wherein her faith in the Doctor is, to a degree, shaken, but the character responds surprisingly: she becomes annoyed! I’ve never faulted Sarah Sutton’s performances, but it’s hard to deny that the character of Nyssa has always been somewhat bland — here, she’s spiky and actually displays a real personality, and it’s obvious that Sutton is enjoying the character more than usual. The age of the actress, for whatever reason, is more apparent in this audio than in most, however, which can break the illusion if that sort of thing bothers you.

    The supporting cast is excellent across the board, with Peter Jurasik the featured star. Jurasik’s performance, while necessarily somewhat similar to Londo Mollari in accent, is utterly believable; I confess that I’m unaware of whether or not he voiced his Spillager but, if so, his shift in tone was excellent. India Fisher, meanwhile, displayed much of the enthusiasm that apparently landed her the Charley Pollard role, but the key difference is that here, her performance doesn’t become annoying after ten minutes. Both Fisher and Liz Sutherland turn in fine performances, while Hannah Dickinson’s French accent is, appropriately, entertainingly over the top. Those that say Sally Faulkner’s Tremayne is too cliched of a character — trust me, people like that actually do exist.

    The production of Winter for the Adept is the best of the first ten audios, as Andy Hardwick’s sound design perfectly evokes Cartmel’s intended ghostlike atmosphere. It’s very difficult to convey a sense of temperature through audio alone, but the feat is accomplished here — there’s never any doubt that Nyssa is hiking through freezing snow at the beginning, for example. Russell Stone’s music is another achievement, capturing the tone perfectly — after this and Red Dawn, it’s unsurprising that he’d return again to BF production. Finally, Gary Russell’s direction is very strong, drawing excellent performances from his actors and keeping the pace high despite the sedate tone of the material.

    As something of an experiment, Winter for the Adept can be best described as a flawed success. While Cartmel’s grasp of the characters and tone coupled with the production turned out an excellent piece of atmospheric drama, his struggles with the plot and dialogue keep it from achieving greatness. Cartmel’s style is, unfortunately, better suited to the novel format, but his natural strengths as an author allow Winter for the Adept to achieve solidly above-average status.

    7/10

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    2016/05/07 at 10:15 pm
  • From Styre on 009 – The Spectre of Lanyon Moor

    THE SPECTRE OF LANYON MOOR

    After an ultratraditional outing in Red Dawn, Big Finish’s immediate followup, The Spectre of Lanyon Moor, did very little to push any boundaries or explore any new frontiers. Conceived as it was as an offer to Tom Baker, it is unsurprising that Nicholas Pegg’s script comes across as a total homage to the Hinchcliffe era of Doctor Who — and it works very well.

    Plot-wise, the script is fairly straightforward, featuring an alien “haunting” a dark, frightening area of land with crashed spaceship technology harnessed by a local mad baron. (Reading that again, there really is no other context in which that is “straightforward,” but there you are.) The opening scene, intended to set the stage with Sancreda, doesn’t work very well — I’m of the opinion that the play would have functioned better with no hints as to the nature of the disturbances — but certainly, as the play progresses, the tension builds in true season 14 style to a climax of epic proportion. Much has been made, meanwhile, of the twist ending — I didn’t find it particularly surprising, but at this stage in BF it’s suitably entertaining.

    The scale of the play also fascinates. While mostly confined to two or three primary locations, the script is not afraid to remove the characters from the confines of the “studio” where necessary. The scene with Evelyn and Nikki out on the moor itself was terrifying, and especially suited to audio; while I am confident that a 1970s production team could have realized a frightening exterior location, I’m not so sure that the attack by the spectre would have been particularly convincing. The expedition by the Doctor and the Brigadier to negotiate UNIT assistance is nice to hear as well: the scale of UNIT operations is too often neglected and here it is acknowledged. Finally, I was wonderfully entertained by the excursion to a Greek museum in episode 3: in true Tom Baker-era style, a foreign location is captured by a “studio-bound” environment which is constructed to be as eerie as those locations which have preceded it.

    The Spectre of Lanyon Moor marks Colin Baker’s most confident audio portrayal of the Doctor of his appearances to this point. While certainly continuing his softer performance, his familiar arrogance rises to the surface in an argument with Professor Morgan; his reticience in the face of Evelyn’s criticism demonstrates well the maturation of the character. He isn’t very active, though; indeed, at the conclusion of the play, the Doctor has failed to save the day, which is rather unusual and hardly commented upon.

    Of course, more comment would be passed hadn’t the Brigadier saved the day instead. It is a true pleasure to hear Nicholas Courtney return to his classic role, and even more so to hear him interacting with Colin Baker in an environment not named Dimensions in Time. His first meeting with the sixth Doctor is wonderful, as he identifies the Doctor primarily by his behavior and dress sense, and he continues to engage in warm interactions with Baker throughout the play. It is unsurprising that Courtney recaptures the role as well as he does, given the number of times he has played the Brigadier over the years, but it’s still nice to hear the old fire rise in his voice as he barks orders to a different generation of UNIT troops. His role in the ending, though reminiscent of Battlefield, is suitable for the character — but again, it’s a good thing he was around!

    Evelyn Smythe is given a great deal to do over the course of this play, her first as a true companion. It’s interesting that she refers to the countless adventures she and the Doctor have experienced and yet claims to have never seen a spaceship, but, niggles aside, the character acquits herself very well, supported by a very strong performance by Maggie Stables. Her sarcastic exchanges with Sir Archibald are funny yet believable, and her reaction to the terrifying events on the moor is equally understandable. Pegg doesn’t allow her life experience to gloss over her humanity, allowing for a stronger characterization — the future is very strong for this woman.

    James Bolam nicely underplays his role as the mad villain, keeping the play from degenerating into the ludicrous territory sometimes encountered by its predecessor. Toby Longworth’s Morgan is satisfactory, but he steals the show as Sancreda, voicing the character exactly as one would expect an alien troll to sound. Susan Jameson is perhaps too matter-of-fact as Mrs. Moynihan, especially after her true nature is revealed, but she holds the attention of the listener as capably as the rest of the cast.

    The production of The Spectre of Lanyon Moor is another triumph for Alistair Lock, who expertly recaptures the Hinchcliffe era with a subtle display of sound design. The atmosphere of the script is paramount, hence the score is both subdued and creepy. Pegg’s direction, meanwhile, is quite skilled, indicating the value of directing one’s own script: a true understanding of the material involved.

    Much as with Red Dawn, The Spectre of Lanyon Moor is almost completely devoid of theme and barely has an original thought in its head. But while Red Dawn sounded as though it had been written and recorded over a weekend, The Spectre of Lanyon Moor sounds as though a great deal of care and consideration has gone into it and, as such, is much more memorable than its predecessor. While not an intelligent or thought-provoking slice of Doctor Who, The Spectre of Lanyon Moor is an entertaining homage to the Hinchcliffe era, accomplishing exactly what it sets out to do.

    7/10

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    2016/05/07 at 10:13 pm
  • From Styre on 008 – Red Dawn

    RED DAWN

    Of the pre-McGann releases, none have come under as much assault as Red Dawn, the eighth offering from Big Finish. I’ve always struggled to understand this; while Red Dawn is certainly neither innovative nor exciting, it lacks any excessively poor elements, something many of its esteemed predecessors cannot say.

    After Whispers of Terror, which featured a genuinely inventive use of the audio medium, one could be forgiven for expecting another exploration of the boundaries from author Justin Richards. Yet Red Dawn is anything but, amounting only to a standard Doctor Who runaround with a returning “bad guy” in the Ice Warriors. There is very little depth in this script — a huge clue is given at the first scene with the astronauts, a play-by-play of their initial descent onto Mars. Sure, it’s detailed (and maybe even 5% accurate) but it serves absolutely no purpose other than to pad the script out an extra ten minutes. The first steps on Mars are no better; indeed, it isn’t until after the “landmark” Neil Armstrong-esque line is uttered and the listener gets confused that it becomes apparent that this is the first trip to Mars for humanity. (Other than, of course, all the times it happened with Troughton, Pertwee, et.al., which are casually dismissed.)

    I don’t think this play even has a theme. The plot is almost ridiculous in its simplicity: characters land on Mars, wake up some Ice Warriors, one of the characters reveals secret agenda, characters then chase each other back and forth for two and a half episodes until a bunch of stuff blows up and everything ends. None of the characters act out of any particular motivation, other than the cliched Ice Warrior sense of honor and some nonsense about the Brookings report, so it’s difficult to offer any criticism of the writing. This sounds as though Richards wrote it in an afternoon while he was preoccupied with something else — thankfully he’s talented enough not to have made a complete mess of the project.

    The fifth Doctor seen here, though of course completely out of character for season 21, is fairly unimaginative. The Doctor is certainly more reactive than proactive, keeping with Davison’s portrayal, but he really doesn’t do anything in this story other than argue with Zzarl, get captured, and argue with the villain. Davison’s portrayal is his usual solid offering, nicely laced with sarcasm, but I can’t recall a single line of his from the play. Nor indeed is there much to say about Peri, who manages to do even less than the Doctor over the course of the play. Nicola Bryant’s role is basically to stand around and deliver expository dialogue, but at least she sounds comfortable with the American accent for once.

    Speaking of American accents, BF seems to have done them well this time around, as the accent work in this play does not detract from the drama. (Short note, though — it’s Hue-ston, not Hoo-ston.) All of the actors acquit themselves well — I can see why they cast Davison’s daughter, since there wasn’t much of a risk of miscasting a challenging role. Not sure why Robert Jezek was brought in for such a meaningless role, though. As for Stephen Fewell, he plays his part well, but Paul is an absolutely ludicrous character. Without anything approaching a good reason, he completely slips the bounds of sanity into maniac-serial-killer mode. Sure, Fewell’s performance fits this, but that doesn’t mean it fits in. Matthew Brenher sounds too human as Zzarl, but overall he and Hylton Collins turn in fine performances.

    I’ve been trying to find something to say about Red Dawn but I’ve failed. Even the production, save Russell Stone’s oddly suitable score, is utterly nondescript. Yet, despite the almost total lack of originality, this is still an entertaining way to pass an hour and a half. True, there’s nothing to tickle the brain, but there’s Ice Warriors and some violence near the end. There also aren’t any bad performances, and the script, while utterly predictable, is hardly Mike Tucker material. If this was a movie, I’d say rent it — you could certainly do worse.

    6/10

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    2016/05/07 at 10:12 pm
  • From Styre on 007 – The Genocide Machine

    THE GENOCIDE MACHINE

    After a stunning debut solo offering for Sylvester McCoy’s Doctor, Big Finish was poised at the cusp of a revolution: in retrospect, a few more audios along the line of The Fearmonger may have prompted a grand reevaluation of McCoy along the same lines as that which acted upon Colin Baker. And with the Daleks due to make their premiere appearance in the range, the stars were aligned for another home run-hitting performance.

    Unfortunately, Mike Tucker wrote the script.

    I’ve never been a fan of the novels of Tucker and frequent co-author Robert Perry, finding them to range from competent (Illegal Alien) to silly (Companion Piece) to utter garbage (Loving the Alien) — and the prospect of listening to a Tucker script for the second time did not appeal. My expectations, sadly, were met: an ultratraditional script with terrible characterization and poor attempts at humor. The presence of the Daleks helped to ease the pain, but at heart this is a poor script which brings down an otherwise average production.

    One of the aims of the play — to free the Daleks from their ties to Davros — is accomplished well, as no time is spent talking about the creator nor is any script space spent establishing the independence of the Daleks. These are the ruthless killers remembered from the ‘60s, and their plan is suitably devious: give a Dalek the knowledge of the universe and use him as a battle computer to give the Daleks the tactical advantage in any conceivable war. However, the mere use of the words “entire universe” tends to raise flags reading “silly” — that’s an awful lot of power to be condensed into one location. That the Daleks are waiting outside the library for a time-sensitive to arrive is reasonable; that the Cybermen and six million other ambitious races aren’t out there with them is not.

    The concept of the library itself, though overblown, is fine, and the wetworks facility is an intriguing creation. The Kar-Charratans are another fascinating invention — any time an author can create a unique addition to the Doctor Who bestiary marks an achievement to be applauded. However, Tucker’s attempt to add depth to the play by turning the wetworks facility into a Kar-Charratan gulag doesn’t carry any emotional depth whatsoever, appearing instead to be inserted into the plot to generate an extra fifteen minutes’ worth of material.

    Tucker’s characterizations are woeful, and the actors’ performances suffer as a result. This is a terrible seventh Doctor: he is neither his latter-day quiet, manipulative self nor his comical early self. Instead, McCoy is forced to play a generic Doctor-by-numbers, one who stumbles into situations and says lines indistinguishable from any of his predecessors. Consequentially, McCoy’s performance sounds very bored, and his attempt to convey anger at Elgin’s horrible actions just fails to convince.

    Things go from bad to worse with Ace, who is written exactly as seen on television — in Dragonfire. There is no maturity whatsoever to this character, and her bitchy departure from the library upon first arrival is absolutely infuriating to hear. Sophie Aldred sounds as bored as McCoy — except, of course, when she’s playing her own Dalek duplicate. Unfortunately, this play serves as much more of a marker for the direction of her performance in later productions — which is a shame, due to her stellar performance in The Fearmonger.

    As for the secondary characters, this many planks together could easily make a house. Bruce Montague’s performance as Elgin is acceptable, but the character is utterly boring, failing even to become interesting at the revelation that he’s committed genocide. The Prink-doesn’t-talk joke was marginally funny the first two or three times, but by the sixtieth repetition in episode four it’s simply infuriating. When Prink finally does speak, Nicholas Briggs’ performance makes one wish he’d go back into the Dalek casing. And then there’s Bev Tarrant, the one-note Benny replacement that does nothing but sit around and complain for four episodes. Accurate though Louise Faulkner’s performance may have been, I still wanted to slap her after ten minutes.

    If it wasn’t for the Daleks, there wouldn’t be a reason to listen to this. Fortunately, the legendary monsters are brought to the audio stage with amazing skill, recapturing their old menace with very little effort. True, the new voices are strange to hear, but after an episode they feel natural — and the Emperor Dalek is captivating from his first line. Everything is here — the speech patterns, the cries of anguish of the deranged Dalek, the needless exclamations like “My vision is impaired!” — and it brings a giddy thrill to hear the Daleks terrorizing the Doctor once again. Indeed, their mere presence elevates this play from any true depths of embarrassment.

    I am forced to question Nicholas Briggs’ skill with directing actors — both this and The Sirens of Time are rife with questionable performances from otherwise talented actors — but on the whole, this is a good production. Briggs’ own sound design never lets the listener forget that Kar-Charrat is a very wet planet, while his work on the Daleks’ sound effects is letter-perfect. Ultimately, it is the strong production values — and the excellent work done with the Daleks — which save this play from total indignity. Mike Tucker’s script is simply lacking in too many areas and the actors fail to rise to the occasion to save it. This should be classed as a missed opportunity — but it could have been much, much worse.

    5/10

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    2016/05/07 at 10:12 pm
  • From Styre on 006 – The Marian Conspiracy

    THE MARIAN CONSPIRACY

    After the masterpiece that was The Fearmonger, Big Finish marked its next release with a number of firsts: the first audio historical, the first sixth Doctor audio set post-Trial, and the first audio to feature new companion Evelyn Smythe, portrayed by Maggie Stables. Yet unlike most episodes with such extensive lists of content requirements, The Marian Conspiracy works incredibly well, offering a softer characterization for the Doctor and an entertaining historical setting.

    This is, without question, the most lighthearted script of BF’s first six releases. From the absolutely hysterical opening scene in Evelyn’s lecture hall to the concluding scenes featuring the salvation of Leaf and Crow, virtually every line is delivered with either an innocent smile or a knowing smirk. Indeed, the plot matches the depth of the dialogue, featuring little more than a typical plot-to-poison-the-Queen seen in a million other historical dramas. The play opens with the Doctor panicking over the impending damage to the space-time continuum, and throughout the play we hear Evelyn drifting in and out of existence as the moment of her change grows nigh. But though this conflict is resolved by the conclusion of the play, no explanation is offered as to why Evelyn’s history has been changed — even if the problems were paradoxically caused by the Doctor and Evelyn traveling back in time in the first place, it would have been nice to receive some sort of explanation.

    Furthermore, the tone of the play seems somewhat contradictory. Jovial scenes speculating on the Doctor’s role in Evelyn’s ancestry are counterpointed with deeply dramatic scenes of Queen Mary battling her conscience or sentencing people to their deaths by burning; I appreciate the aim to evoke the comical air of the Hartnell historicals, but Rayner seems to have missed something: not every Hartnell historical was comical. While stories such as The Reign of Terror dealt with serious subject matter, serious airs were never adopted — here, we see material comparable to that of The Massacre of St. Bartholomew’s Eve examined with The Romans-type humor. Scenes featuring the Doctor contemplating his own fallibility, though beautifully written, thus jar with the rest of the play.

    Author Jacqueline Rayner’s strength, I gather, lies with characterization, and this is certainly borne out by the audio. Colin Baker headlines the masterful characterization on display here, showing a quiet, contemplative side never seen on television. His relationships with those around him, though argumentative at times, is much more friendly, and his trademark bellowing anger is almost never on display — but yet everything works perfectly. It is apparent that Baker is much more comfortable with this portrayal of the Doctor, and each time I hear him in the role on audio, I find myself regretting that this Doctor was never seen on screen.

    The real star of the show, though, is Maggie Stables, bringing Evelyn Smythe to the stage for the first time. It’s all been said before, but the idea to give the sixth Doctor an older companion was a stroke of genius: Evelyn keeps his natural bombast in check while simultaneously allowing him an intellectual foil. Her age adds another wrinkle to the fabric of the plays: this is not a companion capable of fleeing Daleks at high speed, forcing the writers to invent alternate roles for the companion to fulfill. She also has an absolutely sweet personality, reminding the listener of a kindly old grandmother: this is a person with whom it would be a joy to travel.

    Other characters are standard historical ciphers: Jez Fielder and Sean Jackson perform an amusing double act as Leaf and Crow, while Nicholas Pegg offers menace and nobility in equal servings as the Rev. Thomas. Barnaby Edwards’ comedy French accent as de Noailles seems inappropriate, however, undercutting an otherwise admirable performance. Anah Ruddin’s Queen Mary is an amazing portrayal, keeping with the Doctor Who tradition of uncharacteristic depictions of historical figures. One wonders, though, if this Mary is perhaps too tolerant — the Doctor is heard to get away with a great deal of flippancy in her presence, for one thing, and I find it hard to believe that she would be quite so lenient with Sarah at the conclusion, even given her pregnancy.

    On the production front, The Marian Conspiracy is another success for BF. Gary Russell draws excellent performances from his cast, and Alistair Lock’s sound design is as accomplished as his stellar work on The Fearmonger. The score fits well with the tone of the play, though it illustrates the uneasy mixture of tones, shifting from whimsical to threatening in seconds.

    This is the significant problem with The Marian Conspiracy: its shifting tones. The characters are simply too fluffy and the situations simply too grim for the two to mix well, leading to an uncomfortable combination which comes across as greatly unnatural. Despite this flaw, this remains an accomplished play that recharacterizes a contentious Doctor while introducing a new companion with aplomb; had Rayner’s script more firmly decided on which side of the line to fall, it would have been a masterpiece. What was released, though, remains one of the strongest offerings of Big Finish’s early run.

    8/10

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    2016/05/07 at 10:10 pm
  • From Styre on 005 – The Fearmonger

    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

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:09 pm
  • From Styre on 004 - The Land of the Dead

    THE LAND OF THE DEAD

    Big Finish’s fourth release, according to its liner notes, was written in barely over a week. Though the script by Stephen Cole is passable, much of the production is flawed in a similar manner, making me question whether or not the play was designed and recorded in the same approximate length of time. The Land of the Dead is not a particularly poor play, but it does seem hurried, labeling it as more of a missed opportunity than anything.

    The plot heads in two somewhat related directions. First, it deals with the Permians, an ancient animalistic intelligence capable of animating and mutating nearby organic material. Conceptually, this is a fine idea, as it allows for giant skeletons to stomp around the sets, terrorizing the characters with their fearsome appearances. You’ll note, however, the visual nature of that description: the creatures simply do not carry over particularly well to the audio speakers, as they require the actors to use flat expository dialogue to describe them. The sound design used for the skeletons is intimidating, though, as their bizarre sounds and booming footsteps bear down on both listener and actor alike.

    The second part of the plot examines the relationship between Brett and Tulung, including along the way the relationship between their fathers and their fathers’ experiences with the Permians. This thread is painfully obvious, especially given the writing time — does it surprise anyone at all to know that Tulung’s father was the hero and Brett’s was a coward? I suppose I should be grateful that this dramatic subtext even existed in the first place, but it’s somewhat unsatisfying.

    The regular characters are, for the most part, well-executed. Peter Davison’s fifth Doctor carries his natural sarcasm coupled with enthusiasm, marking yet another high-quality return to the role. Sarah Sutton does less well, but she’s dealing with Nyssa-type lines; mostly involving being tied up and vaguely discussing latent psychic ability. It’s very apparent at the start how much older she sounds, but she recaptures the character well enough that this impression goes away after an episode or two.

    The guest cast, however, does much less well. Shaun Brett, portrayed by Christopher Scott, is an excellent Doctor Who-type madman, and Scott’s performance straddles perfectly the line between sympathy and madness. Given her role, Lucy Campbell performs well as Monica Lewis, but the character itself is simply not a good one. She does nothing but complain and offer sarcastic remarks; while people like this are always amusing to start, after a couple of hours with them one generally wants to lay in a few punches.

    Writing Native Americans into the script, though, was an absolutely awful decision. Tulung and Gaborik are the worst sorts of cliche, attempting to rationalize everything in terms of “the spirits” while stubbornly ignoring the evidence of their own eyes. Tulung adopts Nyssa as his own personal spirit guide, leading her to yell “Only you can distinguish between mysticism and rationality!” like an Arctic Smokey the Bear. What we end up with is the usual Native American portrayal: the “noble savage,” needing scientific enlightenment from the visitors. As if all this wasn’t bad enough, the performances of the two actors are absolutely diabolical, for one reason: American accents. Maybe they were aiming for realism (though Doctor Who never seems to make its aliens speak alien) but the actors struggle so hard to get the accents right that they forget to play their parts, leading to wooden, unconvincing characters, one of whom happens to feature in a central role. Good work, BF.

    After something of a recovery with Whispers of Terror, The Land of the Dead represents another minor failure for Big Finish. According to Inside Story, the play was written around a Sylvester McCoy scheduling problem and a Sarah Sutton vacation, leaving one week for Cole to write it — maybe I’m blind to the economic realities, but wouldn’t it simply be easier to leave the spot open rather than cram something into it? As it happens, The Land of the Dead sounds exactly like what it is — an overly simplistic play written in under a week, with production to match. That it works as well as it does is something of a minor miracle, but that’s not to say that it works particularly well in the first place.

    5/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:08 pm
  • From Styre on 003 – Whispers of Terror

    WHISPERS OF TERROR

    The third release from Big Finish, Whispers of Terror continues the trend of improvement started with Phantasmagoria. The script comes from prolific author Justin Richards, and its content is predictable: a workmanlike plot featuring degrees of political intrigue and a surprising plot twist or two. It is a testament to Richards’ ability, as well as that of the production staff, that Big Finish scores its first hit with a plot that, in lesser hands, would have passed unnoticed out of the eyes of fans.

    The decision to experiment with the audio medium from the beginning was a good one, as Whispers is a story that simply could not work effectively on television — it requires the listener to be visually unaware of his surroundings. The concept of a creature that manifests itself as a sound wave is brilliant, and Richards coaxes every ounce of drama out of the idea, so much so that by the play’s conclusion the listener doesn’t know what to trust.

    However, it must be said that there isn’t really enough plot to sustain a four-episode story. Richards tries his hardest to stretch things out, but the fact remains that by the end of episode two the listener knows exactly what’s going on, minus a detail or two. This leads to the final two episodes constituting little more than runarounds — though they are very entertaining runarounds, given the nature of the monster doing the chasing. The revelation about Napton is wonderful, though an attentive listener will see it coming, while Stengard’s encounter with the live cable is terrifying.

    The performances are mostly fine, with Colin Baker’s first solo performance as the sixth Doctor since Trial being a smashing success. It’s no secret that Baker is the most popular audio Doctor, and it’s easy to see why in his very first outing: his voice and delivery capture the ear with ease, while his natural eloquence allows him to deliver even the most ludicrous of lines with some credibility. Lisa Bowerman is nicely evil as Beth Pernell, while Peter Miles’ Gantman is a pleasure to hear. Some of the dialogue is quite witty, the Doctor in particular getting to exchange barbs with almost every fellow cast member.

    Nicola Bryant, however, does much less well in this story. Her delivery in the first episode is absolutely dire, sounding as though she’s more concerned with nailing the American accent than actually delivering her lines convincingly. Peri then spends the rest of the story much as she did in season 22: being generally whiny and useless, and Bryant does nothing to make her character more appealing or interesting. The bickering with the Doctor works, however, evoking a strong feeling of the TV era.

    Overall, the direction in episode 3 seems incredibly weak, with many of the actors offering flat deliveries. It’s almost as though they lost interest, which I can’t understand given the recovery in the fourth part. Furthermore, many of the explanations of the plot are repetitive and obvious, underscoring the lack of plot necessary for a full four episodes. And what was going on with the cliffhanger to part three? Since when does the sixth Doctor scream “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!” when he’s not even being tortured?

    The production and sound design, however, is exquisite. Harvey Summers does a fine job of playing around with the sound samples, slightly distorting them to indicate the presence of Crane. Special mention must be made of Nicholas Briggs’ music, which perfectly evokes Season 22 — this sounded exactly like a Peter Howell composition might have done. The sound effects are additionally much more precise — in Phantasmagoria, the sound design seemed content with the “wall of sound = monster” theory, whereas here the effects are believable and understandable. Stepping outside the context of the play, though — who on earth let the interior color scheme for the booklet slip through? Yellow on white?!

    Overall, Whispers of Terror is a fine first audio outing for the sixth Doctor. Despite some flaws, and an uncharacteristic lack of plot from Justin Richards, it sports a strong script, good performances, and excellent production values. On first listen, it was this play which gave me confidence in the BF range — confidence that would be reaffirmed time and again in Colin Baker’s future appearances.

    7/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:07 pm
  • From Styre on 002 – Phantasmagoria

    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

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 10:07 pm
  • From Styre on 2.8 – Vengeance of Morbius

    VENGEANCE OF MORBIUS

    After a weak start to the second “season” of McGann audios, Big Finish seemed to hit its stride: strong release after strong release followed, and while none of them seemed particularly significant, all were well-written and well-produced. Finally, in the penultimate release “Sisters of the Flame,” Nicholas Briggs offered a dramatic end to the season: the impending resurrection of Morbius, one of Doctor Who’s greatest villains. The conclusion, “Vengeance of Morbius,” wraps up the season — but in sadly predictable fashion, it’s utterly disappointing.

    “Vengeance of Morbius” is a tale of two halves. The first half, continuing the story from “Sisters of the Flame” up until the resurrection of Morbius, is decent enough — while it treads water somewhat, including an interminable sequence with the Doctor and Lucie inside a dispersal chamber, there’s still an adequate sense of impending doom. We’re told that the Time Lords are terrified of what might happen if Morbius is resurrected, and as his resurrection seems inevitable, it’s a matter of waiting to see just how bad things can get. The scenes between Zarodnix (Kenneth Colley) and Straxus (Nickolas Grace) are suitably dramatic, and the Sisters Haspira (Nicola Weeks) and Orthena (Katarina Olsson) are clearly desperate to see it stop.

    Unfortunately, this tension doesn’t extend to the regulars. Lucie has no idea what’s going on, and the Doctor doesn’t seem concerned at all that Morbius could be resurrected. Indeed, once the evil Time Lord (Samuel West) is brought back, his initial conversation with the Doctor is completely tension-free: the Doctor mocks him incessantly, quoting from Tom Baker and proclaiming that Morbius doesn’t have the ability to go off conquering worlds. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to take away from this as a listener: as I’m pulling for the Doctor to win, if he’s not intimidated all, why then should I be? Briggs puts a major foot wrong by making the Doctor so blasé about the situation — but then things get even worse.

    West gives a good performance, but the Doctor’s criticisms seem well-founded at the beginning: there’s no apparent reason to think Morbius is a threat, since he never actually does anything other than stalk around and announce his impending glory. So Briggs has the Doctor and Lucie take an unexpected trip a decade into the future, where, inexplicably, Morbius is now once again a galactic emperor, who has been conquering star systems at will with his unstoppable army of Trell. There’s no cause given for this, no sense of scale, just the writer’s word that the bad guy is now a major threat, based on nothing but his reputation. We see no scenes of Morbius as a leader, no reason to understand why people are intimidated by him, nothing.

    Nonetheless, we’re presented with this character as a threat, and now there has to be a means of stopping him. What does Briggs come up with? Why, if we can deactivate the stellar manipulator that is the source of Morbius’s power, we’ll unlock his temporal protection and enable the Time Lords to undo the past ten years! At this point, I was wondering if Briggs was attempting to write his own version “Last of the Time Lords” — minus the drama and thematic resonance. Sure enough, the Doctor has a fistfight with Morbius — punctuated by absolutely horrible descriptive dialogue from the characters watching — and the day is saved, and the Time Lords undo everything that happened.

    Except, of course, that the Doctor and Morbius fall from a convenient platform to their apparent deaths. Shades of Holmes and Moriarty, I guess, but again, nothing given in the drama to make this thematically appropriate. Sheridan Smith provides the one resonant moment in the play, as she beautifully plays Lucie’s distraught reaction to the Doctor’s “death” — but this lasts barely a couple of minutes. And yes, there’s a cliffhanger after the credits, but by that time I could honestly say I didn’t care what happened next. We know the Doctor’s not dead, we know Lucie’s not dead — it would be fantastically stupid if she was killed — so where’s the hook? Is there any reason to expect this will be picked up and put to surprisingly good use whenever the third season rolls around? I think not.

    At least the cast is competent. Despite the wrong-footed tone, I enjoyed listening to the back-and-forth between McGann and West, and Smith gives one of her best performances in the series. Alexander Siddig is completely wasted: his character, such an important and entertaining part of “Sisters of the Flame,” is reduced to a hollow shell in a scene that wants to be poignant but, much like the script around it, falls flat. Grace gives an excellent performance — Straxus is possibly the only character that evolves naturally through all the events of the play. The sound design and music from ERS are decent but unmemorable, and Briggs’ own direction keeps the pace up, at least.

    Every time Big Finish screws up a landmark release or fails to properly close a plot or series, I complain about it, and list their past failures. That list is getting too long to repeat, but you can certainly add “Vengeance of Morbius” to it. It’s undramatic to the point of being boring, it completely wastes the return of a memorable classic series villain, and its attempts to shock merely annoy.

    A waste of time.

    3/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:56 pm
  • From Styre on 2.7 – Sisters of the Flame

    SISTERS OF THE FLAME

    “The Brain of Morbius” has always been a compelling television story: it hints at the mysterious past of the Time Lords, it gives the Doctor an opponent more powerful than himself, and there’s the matter of the mysterious “old Doctors” that has spurred generations of fan debate. Frankly, I’m surprised Big Finish waited this long to go to the Morbius well — though Terrance Dicks’ abominable “Warmonger” may have poisoned the waters. Taking up the pen is Nicholas Briggs, who last resurrected a classic series villain in “Frozen Time.” Briggs’ “Sisters of the Flame” is only the first of two parts, so it’s difficult to judge its effectiveness as a whole, but as an opening episode it’s excellent.

    It would have been easy to make a Karn/Morbius story boring: I was afraid that I would be subjected to endless Gallifrey sequences, with Time Lords arguing in hushed tones over the latest disaster to strike our universe. And the opening is the weakest part, with the TARDIS power going out yet again, the Doctor panicking, and Lucie sounding uncharacteristically timid and scared. I’m getting tired of this plot device: I can’t count the number of stories, whether on TV, audio, or in the books, that start with oh-my-God-the-TARDIS-is-really-dead-this-time, and it’s impossible to take seriously at this point. Then we get a time scoop coming at the TARDIS, and some “What is it, Doctor? It looks like a ______!” awful descriptive dialogue out of Lucie.

    Fortunately, things improve drastically from there. Big Finish doesn’t do many “Doctor-lite” plays, for obvious reasons, but Briggs does a fantastic job of keeping the story moving without McGann’s presence. Everyone, it seems, is looking for the Doctor, from Lucie to the mysterious businessman Zarodnix (Kenneth Colley) to the titular Sisters Haspira (Nicola Weeks) and Orthena (Katarina Olsson). This strategy was used to great effect in the NAs — maintain the Doctor’s presence and influence, even if he’s not “on screen” — and Briggs’ script seems to involve the Doctor on almost every page. Briggs also makes effective use of continuity elements: the revelation of the Cult of Morbius is striking, even if predictable, and the chants of the Sisterhood that follow Lucie are genuinely unsettling.

    I particularly enjoyed the character work between Lucie and Rosto (Alexander Siddig). Lucie is unsettled by the Doctor’s absence, and Sheridan Smith’s performance portrays her stress and distrust, especially of a character described as a “ten-foot centipede.” Siddig, brilliant in Deep Space Nine and now building a Hollywood resume, is just alien enough, and the ERS-generated insect effects on his voice work especially well. It’s good to hear Nickolas Grace return as Straxus, and his amusing inability to deal with Lucie picks up where it left off from “Human Resources.” Lastly, of course, there’s the cliffhanger: why do the Sisters want to remove the Doctor from history? What is Zarodnix planning? What will be the fate of Rosto and Straxus?

    Briggs, as usual, directs his own script: perhaps due to the two-part format, “Sisters of the Flame” seems to be paced slower than the other “season 2” McGann releases, but this allows for a building sense of mystery. ERS contribues an effective, subtle orchestral score, even if it isn’t distinctive in its own right. As described above, the supporting cast is excellent — my sole complaint, though, is that Katarina Olsson is a bit overused, and a listener could be forgiven for wondering why the Headhunter was in the Sisterhood and/or a giant centipede!

    I’ve been asking for a more “serious” story in the McGann range for the entire second season, and my wishes have finally been granted. “Sisters of the Flame,” after a weak start, becomes an excellent setup for the conclusion — and continues the run of high-quality McGann stories. Will “Vengeance of Morbius” reach expectations? Time will tell…

    Recommended.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:55 pm
  • From Styre on 2.6 – The Zygon Who Fell to Earth

    THE ZYGON WHO FELL TO EARTH

    I’ve been disappointed of late in the various scripts and novels by Paul Magrs, whose unique magical realist tone seems to have vanished in lieu of banal, vaguely funny runarounds. Fortunately, he seems to be getting back on the right track with “The Zygon Who Fell to Earth,” a surprisingly warm, poignant comedy that, while not reaching the previous heights of scripts like “The Wormery,” injects some much-needed significance into an otherwise frivolous Paul McGann season.

    While we’ve seen the Zygons in one memorable television episode and a couple of forgettable novels, none of the stories have really dealt with the identity issues at the heart of their species. With their camouflage technology, they are able to live among other societies without difficulty or conflict. This begs the question: can a Zygon stop being a Zygon? It would certainly appear so, as evidenced by the actions of Trevor (Steven Pacey), a Zygon who now lives as a musician with Lucie’s Aunty Pat (Lynsey Hardwick). It’s a little heavy-handed at times, but never overwrought — and besides, Magrs’ stories often feature a “love conquers all” theme. And though the story doesn’t explore this, I wonder what this says about the Doctor: a Zygon can “settle down” on Earth but the Doctor cannot.

    There’s also a surprising ending that comes as a shocking counterpoint to the philosophy espoused by the new series. One of RTD’s central themes is the celebration of the potential of the average human: yes, we can be cruel, we can be boring, but there’s also heroism waiting to be unlocked. But what about the ordinary people who stay ordinary? We see, in “Zygon…” just such a person in Aunty Pat — and after her shocking, futile death, we also learn that the timeline doesn’t even care about the paradox created by her death. Unimportant people are papered over, their wrinkles smoothed from the fabric of time without a second thought. It’s surprisingly bleak, especially for an otherwise lighthearted script, but it doesn’t jar with the overall tone.

    Paul McGann seems to enjoy Paul Magrs scripts, and this instance is no different. I think the final scenes between him and Sheridan Smith are among the best in the Doctor/Lucie relationship — it’s affecting to hear Lucie let down her guard, especially in tragic circumstances. Steven Pacey easily brings across Trevor’s weariness and inner turmoil, and Hardwick’s turn as Aunty Pat shows that aforementioned “bravery of the mundane.” Malcolm Stoddard, Tim Brooke-Taylor, and Katarina Olsson clearly enjoy themselves a great deal playing the Zygons: the scene in which a Skarasen is milked is one of the great gross-out moments in Doctor Who. Production was handled by ERS, and they easily recapture the “feel” of “Terror of the Zygons” with this lighter, more farcical tone — meanwhile, Barnaby Edwards holds things together with his reliable direction.

    Overall, “The Zygon Who Fell to Earth” is an improvement over last year’s “Horror of Glam Rock.” It has something to say, it aspires to be better than average, and it succeeds in these goals. It’s not a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s a rewarding way to pass an hour, never lacking in humor or poignancy. The McGann series seems to have hit a consistently high standard of quality — I just wonder if this range is ever going to have a “Spare Parts” or “Holy Terror” of its own.

    Recommended.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:54 pm
  • From Styre on 2.5 – Grand Theft Cosmos

    GRAND THEFT COSMOS

    Eddie Robson has quietly emerged as one of the best Big Finish writers. Of course, when I say “quietly” I’m speaking from my own perspective: he never announced his presence with a landmark release like “Spare Parts” or “The Holy Terror,” and he doesn’t yet strike me as a defining voice in the Doctor Who world, but he has quickly become one of the most reliable sources for hugely-entertaining, tightly-plotted scripts. And that’s exactly what we get with “Grand Theft Cosmos” — a delightful sci-fi farce of the heist genre, complete with returning “villains” and a train robbery, and a continuation of the incredibly lighthearted McGann “season 2.”

    Robson’s script is exceptional, in its way. The dialogue is as good as any you’ll hear, with hilarious exchanges between the characters, an excellent grasp of the regulars, and carefully-drawn supporting cast members. We haven’t seen the Headhunter (Katarina Olsson) or Karen (Louise Fullerton) since the Human Resources two-parter, but they’re just as good now: Olsson carrying exasperation throughout, matching Fullerton’s slightly-naïve enthusiasm. There’s a moment oft-quoted in reviews for good reason — “there are bits of roof in my wine” — a fun monster, and an offhanded approach to technobabble that would make the new series proud. It almost goes without saying that Robson has the eighth Doctor mastered — McGann sounds absolutely exhilarated to be reading these lines – and the Doctor’s relationship with Lucie is at its softest and most fun. I’m also reliably informed that Lucie referring to herself as “Palmer-Tomkinson” is hilarious — I’m guessing this is another instance of my American ignorance.

    Yet for all the deserved praise I’m heaping on the script, I can’t bring myself to give it a perfect score — because of my one complaint, its inability to take itself seriously. Slight digression: I think Doctor Who loses something when it veers into total comedy, and here, the threat is never viewed as such, the villains are barely dangerous, and the Doctor resolves the situation with little to no effort. I feel the same way about “Grand Theft Cosmos” that I do about “The Horns of Nimon” or “The Creature from the Pit” — it’s hilarious, a delight to listen to, but it’s lacking any sort of dramatic conflict. I love the suggestion that the Doctor has been destroying Tardelli’s artwork throughout history, but we’re never shown why, apart from a comedy statue monster. It’s why we remember “The Pirate Planet” — not for the excellent Douglas Adams humor, but for the confrontation in the trophy room.

    Nonetheless, this is fine entertainment. The orchestral score by ERS, as well as their usual excellent sound design, complements the tone perfectly, and Barnaby Edwards continues to show a deft hand directing these fast-paced scripts. If you want a perfect example of a Doctor Who comedy story, an entertaining heist caper, a witty script from one of the best audio writers going, and the best release thus far in the McGann second season, look no further. Just don’t expect anything serious.

    Excellent.

    9/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:52 pm
  • From Styre on 2.4 – The Skull of Sobek

    THE SKULL OF SOBEK

    It’s interesting to see Marc Platt’s name among the authors of the new McGann season. While he showed, with “Valhalla,” that he could write a more plot-oriented story, his obvious love of worldbuilding seemed unsuited for a shorter, quicker format. I was very happy to have my expectations defied by “The Skull of Sobek,” which moves along at a blistering pace but contains the same expert scripting I’ve come to expect from one of the best Doctor Who writers of recent memory.

    The pre-credits sequence is note-perfect, starting at a remembrance ceremony and taking us, through flashback, to the conflict between the Old Prince (Giles Watling) and Snabb (Sean Biggerstaff), throwing the listener into the backstory. The questions it poses aren’t necessarily intriguing, but there’s such a verve to the production that it produces a strong desire to hear what happens next. And when the Doctor and Lucie — their companionship growing stronger and closer with each passing release — emerge onto the surface of Indigo 3, the full breadth of Platt’s vision immediately becomes apparent. I love ideas like these: a planet universally painted in shades of blue, its population having 83 separate words for the color, and a perfectly symmetrical desert, centered by a shrine to the glory of imperfection. It all feels so effortless, easily communicated through the banter between Paul McGann and Sheridan Smith. I greatly admire Russell T. Davies’ writing for the new series partly because of his uncanny ability to communicate a great deal of information with a minimum of text, and Platt accomplishes the same here.

    It’s ironic, though, that the story is set around a sanctuary that praises imperfections — mostly because that setting houses the story’s critical flaw: there’s perhaps a bit too much going on. I love the idea of the temple housing crocodile-men in the waters in the basement, and their violent encounters with the rest of the cast are surprisingly gory, but by the time the story finishes telling us about champions, and skulls, and race memories, and battles, it’s difficult to recount any but the most basic of details. All credit to Platt for keeping the story gripping throughout — again, it has that confidence that keeps the listener attentive — but ask what this story is about and you’ll get a jumbled mishmash of swordfights and Lucie’s fear of crocodiles. “Valhalla” may have been too long, but “Sobek” is too short — with Big Finish moving away from languid storytelling, perhaps three episodes is the ideal length for a Platt script? “Ghost Light” would seem to say so.

    It’s getting repetitive, but I mean it each time: the McGann/Smith interplay gets better with each successive release. They’re comfortable together in a way that feels even more natural than the Doctor and Charley at their best — and yet Lucie’s moment of discomfort at the sight of a mutilated body is so perfectly pitched it reminds you instantly of her relative innocence. The supporting cast is especially good: Watling and Biggerstaff clearly enjoy the opportunity to chew the scenery as massive crocodiles, and Platt gives them a number of amusing double-act lines. I’m usually not familiar with the “name” actors drafted into the recent plays, but I’ve seen both Art Malik and Barbara Flynn before and enjoyed hearing their voices. Flynn especially is good as Sister Chalice, her interplay with Malik’s Abbot Absolute proving amusing and dramatic in equal turn.

    The production seems to improve with each successive release as well. That the sound design is more than capable goes without saying, but Barnaby Edwards gets better and better at pacing as the series progresses. There might be too much going on during the course of the play, but the presentation is never muddled, and the pace is as rapid as most new series episodes.

    Overall, “The Skull of Sobek” is the best release yet in the second McGann season. It might be confusing at times, but it’s pacy, it’s confident, and it’s exhilarating in a way few Big Finish audios have been of late. In many ways it’s an “anti-Marc Platt” script, but in many others it’s exactly what you’d expect. The series has definitely hit its stride, and with an Eddie Robson script next in line, the future looks bright.

    Highly recommended.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:51 pm
  • From Styre on 2.3 – Brave New Town

    BRAVE NEW TOWN

    One of the many lessons one can learn from the long history of Doctor Who is that the series is at its best when it is changing. Nostalgia is always welcome, of course, but new characters must be introduced, new styles must be attempted, and old monsters must be rejuvenated. To take a random example, look at the Master: you could see the role deteriorating in the Ainley years (through no fault of the actor) from a dangerous maniac to a pantomime villain — but becoming immediately more interesting in “Survival” with new motives and methods. And so, too, with the Autons, used three times on television to increasingly redundant effect: while “Rose” is a successful pilot for many reasons, the Autons are there to recapture iconic images from the 1970s and therefore don’t seem intriguing at all.

    Enter Jonathan Clements, author of some of the best plays from the first McGann “season” and the Unbound and UNIT miniseries. In “Brave New Town,” he approaches the Autons from a completely new direction: rather than documenting yet another Auton invasion, with faceless plastic robots stomping up and down the road shooting passersby, he gives them an entirely different side. These Autons are, of all things, Soviet spies, presumably constructed from a Nestene meteor shower in the former USSR — and their mission to infiltrate the West was put indefinitely on hold by the inconvenient matter of the collapse of the Iron Curtain. And so they’ve been living in limbo on a deserted island in the middle of the Aral Sea — and it’s only with the shrinking of that sea that their home has been discovered. The Auton society is fascinating: while they relive the same day over and over again, never stopping, they develop recognizable personalities, with true human relationships, building families from thin air. When the inevitable reactivation signal from the Nestene comes, it’s almost a distraction: once you know what’s going on, you want to spend more time with these people, to see how they’ve grown.

    I think that’s the problem with Clements’ script: it’s too focused on the revelation. Not that this is a bad thing — Clements does an excellent job of building suspense, and seeding clues of the true nature of things — but I think he focused on the wrong thing. There’s so much going on beneath the surface in “Brave New Town,” from the growth of a society to subtle environmental commentary, that I wonder if the play wouldn’t be better served with the revelation coming quickly and more time spent quietly with the Autons. All credit to Paul McGann and Sheridan Smith, who keep things rolling with their remarkable chemistry: the scene with documents written “in foreign” is one of the most honestly affectionate Doctor/companion moments outside of the new series. I’m told that Derek Griffiths is famous — I have no idea who he is — and he’s certainly excellent here, injecting Jason with just the right mix of pathos. The sound design by ERS is excellent as always, while the score sounded remarkably similar to another — but unfortunately I can’t remember what! Certainly not a complaint, in any case, as its light atmosphere belies the initial suspense-oriented frame of the script and indicates where things will be going. Jason Haigh-Ellery’s direction is very solid: unlike many other plays in the McGann series, this one appreciates the script’s need for a slower pace.

    Overall, “Brave New Town” is a strong success. It’s not astonishing, as Doctor Who goes — as mentioned above, the most interesting elements are sidelined for the less interesting ones, and it doesn’t feel as significant as it probably should — but it’s easily the strongest entry of the first three in McGann’s “season 2” and bodes well for the remainder of the series.

    Strongly recommended.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:50 pm
  • From Styre on 2.2 – Max Warp

    MAX WARP

    I admit, straight off the bat, that I’m not appropriately equipped to review this audio. I’ve never seen Top Gear, don’t understand any of the references, and only know who Jeremy Clarkson and Richard Hammond are because I browsed Wikipedia. So I can’t really comment on its effectiveness as a satire — I’m limiting myself to its effectiveness as a piece of drama. With that in mind, “Max Warp” is a solid if lightweight production, with more than its share of funny moments — but ultimately it feels remarkably inconsequential.

    I’ve been a fan of Jonathan Morris ever since his PDA “Festival of Death” — he’s one of the wittiest voices in Doctor Who writing, and that ability is clearly on display here. The characters are broad and over the top, but the play has that feeling throughout — starting with Graeme Garden’s performance as Geoffrey Vantage, a character so thoroughly greedy, sexist, and reprehensible he’s delightful to listen to. Morris’s characters steal the show, including his regulars: the Doctor is at his most enthusiastic in this, and Paul McGann gives one of his best performances. We’ve known ever since Pertwee that the Doctor has a soft spot for fast vehicles — this is the same character that wanted to drive trains as a child — and here we see that geeky passion on display as he drools over fancy spaceships and takes offense at Lucie’s dismissiveness. Sheridan Smith is equally entertaining — she’s curiously made an object of mockery at the start of the play as the Doctor pokes fun at her ideas, but she rapidly gets her own back when put opposite Vantage. It’s more evident here than ever that these are two people who genuinely enjoy traveling together. And don’t forget Samantha Hughes and Nick Brimble, whose opposing leaders get to engage in some entertaining, if broad political humor.

    Yet despite its entertaining characters, “Max Warp” falls down when it comes to the plot. Morris clearly enjoys skewering Top Gear, but the actual political machinations and Christie-like murder investigation seem almost perfunctory. The resolution is incredibly simple — it doesn’t seem to present any sort of challenge at all, and while that may be in keeping with the tone of the play, the lack of dramatic tension keeps it from being truly compelling. It’s more consequential than “Dead London,” certainly, but I don’t think it’s enough.

    The production is, as always, up to a high standard, with the sound design from ERS expertly communicating the flashy, futuristic environment, and Barnaby Edwards again providing kinetic direction. I’ve enjoyed the directing efforts in general on the new McGann stories: there seems to be a conscious effort to “modernize” the stories in the vein of the new series, and while the writing doesn’t always approximate this, the stories have a notably distinct flow from their main range counterparts. This is a welcome change.

    Overall, Max Warp is an entertaining, lightweight release. Perhaps, to those more familiar with its subject matter, it is also a strong satire — but I’m unable to comment. Listen to it to laugh, but if you’re looking for any drama outside of the most basic level, you may wish to look elsewhere.

    6/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:47 pm
  • From Styre on 2.1 – Dead London

    DEAD LONDON

    I liked the first series of “Eighth Doctor Adventures” from Big Finish. Sure, there were a couple of missteps, but it represented a confident step in a new direction for the company and it featured, in “Human Resources,” one of the best audio stories in recent memory. I found myself looking forward to the second series: a series of acclaimed authors, some juicy rumors about returning villains, and a series-closing two-parter shrouded in mystery. And with legendary comic writer Pat Mills penning the first episode, things were bound to get off to a strong start, right?

    Nope!

    “Dead London” opens fantastically: the Doctor finds himself on trial for a parking offense, but is suddenly sentenced to death as the time period appears to change; Lucie, meanwhile, roams the streets of London during a 1917 zeppelin raid. We’ve got a conceit, a setting, and a villain all in the first five minutes, and things are off on the right foot. Problem is, nothing significant comes of these elements. Take the setting: a “War Games”-ish mix of time zones, with people inserted into them and programmed not to notice the flaws in their surroundings. There’s a chance here to explore these different time zones, or to explore the inhabitants’ experiences — but instead the story opts to use these varying settings as glorified corridors, places through which the Doctor and Lucie can run. We’ve got an interesting supporting character in Spring-Heeled Sophie (Clare Buckfield): a self-described funambulist who uses the city’s rooftops as her personal walkways. She’s got that “noble rogue” heroism so beloved of Doctor Who historicals, but we never learn anything about her — she’s a cipher in interesting clothes, little more than a sounding board, a surrogate companion. And then there’s the villain, Sepulchre (Rupert Vansittart), and a stunning revelation about his relationship with the different Londons — none of which is ever explained! What are his motives? Why does the Doctor leave the situation unresolved? What was the significance of the plot? “Dead London” comes across as Mills coming up with a good idea, then scribbling down a first draft and turning it in.

    Despite my complaints about the writing, I have none about the acting. Paul McGann and Sheridan Smith are an excellent pairing: McGann conveys the Doctor’s delight at his surroundings with his usual joie de vivre, while Smith slips effortlessly back into the role of Lucie Miller. I really do enjoy her character: she’s smart, quick-witted, and confident, and gives the play a drive that some other companions cannot. Buckfield’s performance is a lot of fun, though she sounds almost exactly like Smith — their scenes together get confusing! Vansittart clearly enjoys the opportunity to play a Doctor Who villain, throwing himself into his various roles with OTT aplomb. The production, too, is solid: Simon Robinson’s sound design makes each time zone believable, and his score is atmospheric yet unintrusive. There’s a clear attempt to give these McGann stories a “new series” energy, and this is evident in Barnaby Edwards’ assured, kinetic direction.

    “Dead London” isn’t terrible, but as the “season premiere” of the second set of McGann adventures, it needed to be better than this. It lacks focus, there’s nothing in it to grab the attention, and the resolution is anything but. The performances and design elevate it to average level, but this is a play strongly in need of editing, not release.

    5/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:46 pm
  • From Styre on 1.8 – Human Resources Part 2

    HUMAN RESOURCES, PART TWO

    I’ve noticed, over the years, that Big Finish’s approach to “arc” stories has stayed fairly constant: an introductory story will ask a lot of questions, and a few more questions will be seeded throughout a series, but ultimately all the answers are saved until the final episode. “Human Resources, Part Two” is no different, and has a nightmare brief for 60 minutes: explain Lucie’s backstory, explain the Time Lords’ interest in her, explain just what is going on at Hulbert Logistics, and involve the Cybermen. This is the sort of “kitchen sink” outline that has killed scripts, and yet Eddie Robson makes it all fit together in an impressive, logical fashion.

    The Cybermen have always had one consistent thematic purpose in Doctor Who — to illustrate the horrors of conversion into an “emotionless” indistinguishable state. It’s interesting, then, that they turn up in this story, which features a ruthless mercenary brainwashing people into office drones. The comparison might be obvious, but shouldn’t go unmentioned — were there office blocks on Mondas? Did the Mondasian Ricky Gervais never come along? Curious, too, that Hulbert (Roy Marsden) opts for this mechanism to operate his war machines: we can presume from the story that he is successful and in demand, so has he determined that the dehumanizing office environment is actually incredibly efficient? After all, office life at a defense contractor isn’t much different from office life at a paper company — will the next World War be fought via phone calls to Frank from Accounting?

    Hypotheticals aside, I must also take issue with the resolution to Lucie’s story. I liked the way in which Robson incorporated the Time Lords, though the suggestion of CIA-High Council infighting was perhaps too complex to be that removed from the story, and might have been improved if simplified. The quantum crystallizer is a brilliantly inventive device, perfectly suitable as a weapon for what we know of Gallifrey. Yes, it makes victory over the Cybermen easy, but theirs was never the central threat to begin with. The problem is with Lucie: the story slowly reveals that the CIA has manipulated her life to prevent her from becoming an oppressive right-wing dictator, and has been using the crystallizer to do so, and that she was therefore kept from Earth to prevent her from coming into contact with the device. This leads to some difficult soul-searching on Lucie’s part, and sets the Time Lords against the Doctor — the sort of thing that could help keep Lucie an interesting and dynamic character as the series continues. Revelation: actually, the High Council screwed up and gave the wrong person to the Doctor. Really? That’s it? I wasn’t expecting Lucie to suddenly reveal herself as Davros, or anything, but “whoops, clerical error” is incredibly underwhelming. That’d be like… I don’t know, revealing that Zagreus was just Paul McGann in the TARDIS talking to himself in a funny voice, or something.

    Speaking of McGann, his performance in this final installment is probably his best in the BBC7 range. He gets confrontation scenes with all the major characters, Cybermen included, and dominates them all. Sheridan Smith continues to portray Lucie as headstrong yet vulnerable — this is twice where a loss of trust in the Doctor has almost sent her into hysterics. Marsden is the third star of this show, as he almost makes Hulbert seem more dangerous than the Cybermen themselves. Nickolas Grace provides the usual inactive Time Lord counterpart to the Doctor’s proactivity, while Nicholas Briggs’ Cyberman voices are reminiscent of both the early days of the classic series and the “Rise of the Cybermen” versions. And who knows if we’ll hear more of Louise Fullerton and Katarina Olsson, whose characters escaped together at the conclusion. The production values are high as ever, from Gareth Jenkins’ sound design to Andy Hardwick’s music, to Nicholas Briggs’ direction. The CD release contains additional interviews with Fullerton, Olsson, Smith, Owen Brenman, and Grace.

    Overall, “Human Resources, Part Two” is an excellent conclusion both to Part One and to the first BBC7 season as a whole. Muddled sections with the Time Lords and an underwhelming resolution to Lucie’s story keep the story from reaching the highest of highs, but it’s still half of the best play in the BBC7 range and well worth a purchase along with its companion.

    Highly recommended.

    8/10

    Average rating for the BBC7 season: 6.8

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:46 pm
  • From Styre on 1.7 – Human Resources Part 1

    HUMAN RESOURCES, PART ONE

    With the first “season” of Paul McGann plays (produced for BBC7 by Big Finish) coming to a close, the finale was presented much like the open: a two-part play featuring an old enemy. While I found Eddie Robson’s previous offering, “Phobos,” disappointing, and I can’t yet comment on the quality of the second part of the finale, “Human Resources, Part One” is by far the best production of the first seven.

    One of the strengths of Doctor Who has always been its ability to conflate the bizarre with the mundane, and Robson’s script demonstrates an excellent grasp of this concept. Hulbert Logistics is, by all appearances, a perfectly normal office: there’s an HR department that produces trainees, everyone works in a standard office pool with cubicles and computers, there’s a break room, self-important management types roam the floor giving impromptu and unhelpful motivational speakers, there are meetings where meaningless corporate terminology is exchanged and nothing gets done, etc., etc. Robson lays enough clues that something is amiss — the sealed exits, the grunting security guards, and the planning meetings about military strikes — but the office appears to be normal until Lucie gets fired. Then comes the brilliant revelation that the office is actually controlling the operation of a giant walking war machine. This is an audacious, wonderful Doctor Who concept, with the added advantage of no visual effects budget to drain.

    It’s also a standard “part one of two,” very comparable to the new series. Look at this story in relationship to any of the new series two-parters, especially “Rise of the Cybermen/The Age of Steel:” much of the first part is spent introducing the new world and its rules, and slowly seeding threats into the environment. The first part usually concludes with the revelation of the true villains of the piece, and the second part is then much more action-oriented as the Doctor and companion(s) take on their foe. We also get the age-old Cyberman reveal: the Doctor sees them approach, exclaims something on the order of “Oh no, not them!” then the Cybermen are revealed to the listener/viewer and the Doctor responds either with “Cybermen!” or, in this case, something like “I think I may have miscalculated.” It’s the same blend of old and new that the new series does so well, and if this story seems a bit derivative of “Rise,” it’s not — it was written before “Rise” aired — but it certainly knows what works.

    The cast is excellent, impressively so given that most of them are actively portraying clichéd characters. Paul McGann is having a lot of fun as the Doctor, and he makes the character fit right into the mind-numbing office environment, quietly mocking it as he does so. Sheridan Smith’s performance is genuinely disturbing at times: to hear the headstrong, forthright Lucie Miller reduced to giggling inanely at stupid jokes in the break room is unsettling. Louise Fullerton is endearing as Lucie’s coworker Karen, and Owen Brenman is amusingly slimy as their boss Jerry. Both Roy Marsden and Nickolas Grace play very well against McGann, the first as the boss Hulbert and the second as the officious Time Lord Straxus. And while it’s an entertaining twist that the Headhunter (Katarina Olsson) was trying to bring Lucie in as an employee, her reaction when Lucie gets fired after five hours is even better.

    Thumbs up to Gareth Jenkins and Andy Hardwick for the usual high standard of sound design and music, while Nicholas Briggs’ — not Barnaby Edwards’, as printed on the CD jacket — direction keeps the story on pace and intriguing right up through the cliffhanger. The disc also contains bonus interviews with seven different cast members: Fullerton, Andy Wisher, Olsson, Brenman, Marsden, Grace, and Smith.

    Overall, this is easily the best of the BBC7 plays thus far. As it’s a part one, it’s necessarily unfulfilling, and could easily be let down by part two — but as opening segments go, this is pretty much exactly what you want to do.

    Highly recommended.

    9/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:44 pm
  • From Styre on 1.6 – No More Lies

    NO MORE LIES

    With only one story to go before the climactic two-parter of the BBC7 radio series from Big Finish, it starts to become evident to me that the range is lacking that classic story, that “hook” to proclaim “This is us at our best!” I was thus reassured by the knowledge of an upcoming Paul Sutton play, expecting great things from the writer of “Arrangements for War” and “Thicker than Water” — and for the second time in a row I was let down, this time by an unnecessarily convoluted script and some questionable sound design and direction.

    There appeared to be some debate upon the airing of this play over its use of in medias res at the start — I don’t think there’s any doubt that it is a dynamic and effective dramatic device if used properly, but I don’t think it’s executed well at all in “No More Lies.” It’s clear, first of all, that Sutton doesn’t view the Doctor and Lucie’s reasons for pursuing Zimmerman (Nigel Havers) as necessary to the drama — and in plot terms, they’re not, as the important thing is to get them to the garden party. But we never really pin down our main characters’ motivations: later, when they give reasons for being upset with Zimmerman, they list events that actually were portrayed at the start. It also doesn’t help that the opening scenes aboard Zimmerman’s ship are abysmally realized on audio: the play falls into the trap of using loud, indistinct noises to communicate action, forgetting that the audience has no other material to work with.

    Fortunately, the drama improves once the play reaches Earth. We’re dropped into the middle of things again, this time left to wonder why and how Zimmerman appears to have changed so dramatically. The relationship he has built with Rachel (Julia McKenzie) over the years is romantic and believable, and is the obvious strength of the play, as well as one of the hallmarks of a Sutton script. I enjoyed his motive for setting up the time loop, and his desperation as events conspired to break the loop demonstrated how his character had changed since his first encounter with the Doctor and Lucie. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that the play was being padded out despite its short length: many of the scenes with Gordon (Tom Chadbon), while entertaining, are almost totally unnecessary, and the Tar-Modowk are among the more clichéd plot device monsters in the history of the range.

    The characterization is a bit odd in the case of the regulars. Paul McGann’s eighth Doctor continues on his darker, more vengeful course, but Lucie’s portrayal is odd. She seems remarkably conversant with the technology on Zimmerman’s ship, and there’s almost no hint of her contentious relationship with the Doctor. Admittedly, this is an unusual situation, but the impression is given that a lot of time has passed since the first four stories in the range. That said, this play is a showcase for Sheridan Smith, who is put into the “proactive companion” role of not needing the Doctor for the first time. Havers’ performance is exceptional, his voice switching from the youthful, sinister Zimmerman of the opening scenes to the serene old man of the remainder. McKenzie’s character doesn’t accomplish much, though she gets a heartbreaking scene with Havers at the conclusion. Chadbon plays a reliable role with his usual unintentional charm. And Katarina Olsson’s Headhunter finally gets a significant scene at the very end, setting up the concluding two-parter.

    The production is disappointing. Gareth Jenkins’ sound design, unusually, does not adequately communicate what is happening, neither at the beginning nor at the action of the climax. Of course, part of this is down to the script, which erred perhaps too much on the side of “no expository dialogue.” There’s also the problem of loud footsteps — it seems almost every scene at the party is punctuated by loud crunching noises in the gravel. Tim Sutton’s music is very good, and appropriate for the script, but unfortunately it’s overused: almost every scene ends with a protracted musical transition that often lasts between 15 and 30 seconds. This is the primary source of the “padded” feeling I get from the play: even the opening scenes sound drawn-out, which gives the impression that director Barnaby Edwards was trying to stretch the play to fit the BBC7 running time. The disc is rounded out with interviews with Havers, McKenzie, and Chadbon.

    I think the best word to describe “No More Lies” is “muddled.” The opening scenes are loud and indistinct, the script isn’t structured particularly well, and the direction makes the whole thing feel overlong. There’s some wonderful character work at the heart of this, and some excellent performances, so it’s not “bad” as such, but it makes me wonder if it wouldn’t have been best to leave this material for a short story, as it doesn’t work very well on audio.

    Disappointing.

    5/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:44 pm
  • From Styre on 1.5 – Phobos

    PHOBOS

    I was looking forward to this one. The quality of the BBC7 range appeared to be on a steady upswing, especially after “Immortal Beloved,” and Eddie Robson, author of the superior “Memory Lane” and several short stories I had enjoyed, was responsible for the script. Naturally, my new-found optimism was crushed as I listened to “Phobos,” which just isn’t very good at all.

    I have no doubt, to begin with, that the extreme sports enthusiasts portrayed in the play are intended to be annoying. I’ve known people like Hayden (John Schwab), and I’ve wanted to fling them all off the nearest mountaintop. Problem is, when listening to a play like this, I don’t find myself thinking, “Now that’s an accurate portrayal of an annoying type of person,” I find myself thinking, “Wow, this is annoying, where’s the off button?” It doesn’t help that they spout self-consciously “cool” and “futuristic” dialogue that sounds totally unnatural. Fortunately, this isn’t a major complaint, because we don’t spend much time with Hayden (and even less time with the doubly-annoying Scott (Ben Silverstone) and Chrissie (Katarina Olsson)).

    Unfortunately, I cannot say the same about the climax of the play, which demonstrates serious faults. It’s fairly obvious from the beginning that Kai (Timothy West), who doesn’t particularly like the “drennies” (adrenaline junkies), and who tells unprovable stories about monstrous Phobians, is involved in some way with the deaths. Sure enough, we find out that he’s been rigging up maintenance robots to kill people, and disguising the robots as monsters. This is a fairly standard Doctor Who plot, which leads to the traditional final confrontation between the Doctor and Kai, and naturally Kai is defeated with the help of the drennies he was trying to drive off in the first place. Not the most groundbreaking story in the world, but a solid one — right up until the twist ending. Turns out that there’s a fear god from another universe living in a portal under a mountain — Phobos was the Greek god of fear, get it? — living off the exhilarated fear of the drennies. But, for whatever reason, this god is poisoned by “true,” terror-stricken fear, which is why Kai became a murderer: to scare people away.

    Two serious problems: first, the Doctor defeats the enemy by poisoning it with his own fears. This sounds like a good idea in principle — the dark secrets of the Doctor, coming to the fore and terrifying even a god. Scarier than the monsters, indeed — but what we actually hear is Paul McGann essentially yelling “If you thought that was scary, how about THIS!” over and over again, followed by silence, followed by horrified noises from Nerys Hughes. The execution is laughable, and the material comes across as little more than bad melodrama. Second, and most egregious, nobody seems the least bit upset with Kai for programming killer robots to butcher people! He claims at the end that he “lost perspective” — and the Doctor takes this at face value. We’re supposed to think that the Doctor feels guilty about this because his own lifestyle resembles an extreme sport and thus fed the monster even more than the drennies… so he wishes a man guilty of multiple homicide the best of luck and leaves? The first killing happened before the Doctor even arrived!

    The cast isn’t very good either. McGann and Sheridan Smith are on good form, of course, and the Doctor/Lucie relationship continues to grow in equal parts friendly and argumentative. West gives a fine performance as well, and Hughes is impressive as both Eris and her possessed counterpart. It stops there, though — Schwab was bad in “Dalek” and he’s worse here, Ben Silverstone is unmemorable as Drew, and Tim Sutton and Olsson (again) fail to impress as an unnecessary pair of lovers-on-the-run who also appear in a needless vignette about racism.

    The Gareth Jenkins/Andy Hardwick production is impressive as always, the sound design in particular capturing a wide range of futuristic actions and making them sound believable. And despite my misgivings about the cast, Barnaby Edwards’ direction fits the faster style of these BBC7 productions. The disc also includes interviews with West, Hughes, and Silverstone.

    Overall, I was disappointed with “Phobos.” While it doesn’t reach the lowest depths of the worst Big Finish productions — it is let down almost entirely by the end, after a reasonable if unmemorable Doctor Who plot — it certainly doesn’t qualify as “rewarding” by any stretch of the imagination. And while Big Finish, as with every other Doctor Who outlet, is certainly entitled to produce a clunker from time to time, I find it disappointing that they let one through to BBC7.

    Not recommended.

    4/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:43 pm
  • From Styre on 1.4 – Immortal Beloved

    IMMORTAL BELOVED

    It’s difficult for me to say that Big Finish has an ideal length for their Doctor Who stories. They’ve produced excellent stories over two hours, and they’ve done fine work at or under ninety minutes, so to say as some have that the 60 minute limit on the BBC7 productions is somehow “good” for BF seems unfounded to me. Jonathan Clements’ “Immortal Beloved,” however, is an ideal use of the BBC7 time restrictions, one that understands, much like the TV series, how to tell a Doctor Who story without the freedom of four episodes. It’s also the best play of the first four in the new range.

    The setup of Clements’ script is fairly straightforward science fiction: we are presented with a society on the level of ancient Greece, ruled by living gods. The gods, of course, are not gods at all, but rather technologically advanced visitors who have used their technology to assume places of power. And the revelation about these gods and what keeps them eternal is what gives the script its bite: when they die, they transfer their consciousnesses into specially-prepared clones who are raised to sacrifice themselves to this cause. Of course, the procedure is slowly going wrong — but even if it wasn’t, sentient beings are being killed in the process, and the Doctor must stop it.

    This brings us back to one of Doctor Who’s most interesting moral arguments: that summed up in “The End of the World” by “Everything has its time and everything dies.” There’s a real sense in Doctor Who that natural = trustworthy — observe the show’s legions of evil robots — and the Doctor has always been somewhat self-contradictory in that he eagerly salutes all efforts by humans to better themselves, but immediately draws the line when they attempt to extend their own lifespan. In this situation, the institutionalized murder makes the Doctor’s moral position clear-cut, but there’s still that same underlying feeling: that these “gods” are somehow wrong for wanting to live beyond their natural lifespans, that they should let go and turn things over to their descendants. What makes this position doubly odd is the show’s reliably secular perspective: there isn’t any evidence of a Doctor Who afterlife, and yet the Doctor seems determined to see people reach their final end. Heck, in this story the existence of (these) gods is actively disproven! Is this because death, for the Doctor, isn’t permanent?

    And that’s the odd thing about “Immortal Beloved” — the “bad guys,” Zeus (Ian McNeice) and Hera (Elspet Gray) aren’t even presented as such. They’re misguided, of course, and also responsible for murder, but their desire isn’t to change the future of mankind a la “The Lazarus Experiment” — it’s to maintain their love throughout eternity. Even Lucie is taken aback by this revelation, though she remains on the side of Kalkin (Anthony Spargo) and Sararti (Jennifer Higham). There’s a lot to think about, which makes the rushed, nonsensical ending a shame: the needless double-switch, followed by a helicopter chase to stop Lucie and Sararti from destroying the TARDIS and committing suicide? Huh?

    After a relatively breezy outing in “Horror of Glam Rock,” here Paul McGann’s eighth Doctor is much moodier and more confrontational. This lends him the appropriate weight when confronting Zeus, but it’s a jarring departure from the previous play. The same problem is there with Lucie — while Sheridan Smith plays the role convincingly, Lucie is suddenly more argumentative with and suspicious of the Doctor. McNeice, meanwhile, dominates the play with a commanding performance as Zeus — I think his acting enhances the play’s moral grey area, convincing as it is. Gray is suitably dignified, while Higham and Spargo are very persuasive as star-crossed lovers. And I’m sorry if this is uncharitable, but Jake McGann, Paul’s son, is barely convincing as Ganymede — first acting performance or not. The production front is strong as ever, with Gareth Jenkins (sound design) and Andy Hardwick (music) turning in their usual strong work. Jason Haigh-Ellery draws fine performances from his actors, and, as mentioned at the start of the review, the pacing is some of the best in the range. The disc also includes bonus interviews with Paul McGann, McNeice, Gray, and Higham.

    Overall, “Immortal Beloved” is the best of the first four BBC7 audio plays. The ending, unfortunately, lets the play down, but nonetheless there’s some thought-provoking material on display and some fine interactions between the characters. Very well done, and highly recommended.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:41 pm
  • From Styre on 1.3 – Horror of Glam Rock

    HORROR OF GLAM ROCK

    I was surprised to see Paul Magrs among the list of authors of the Big Finish-produced BBC7 radio series. His work has always been postmodern and/or magical realist, and his previous audios have used every inch of their running time to let their atmosphere breathe. I was therefore curious to see how his style would translate into the stricter 50-minute format of the new audios — unfortunately, what I found was that his style was barely detectable, swamped beneath a very traditional Doctor Who story. “Horror of Glam Rock” is still a solid piece of work, but I would never peg it as a Paul Magrs script without being told in advance.

    This is the “base under siege” format boiled down to its absolute essence, explaining the title’s pun on “Horror of Fang Rock” — we have a small group of characters trapped in a highway oasis, besieged by ravenous bear-like monsters and unable to escape. Magrs sets his play in the glam rock era of the mid-1970s, complete with “rising stars” Tommy (Stephen Gately) and Trisha Tomorrow (Clare Buckfield) and their manager Arnold Korns (Bernard Cribbins). There isn’t much to the actual plot: the Only Ones, the alien invaders, want to eat everyone, and for some reason I wasn’t able to discern they speak to Tommy through his stylophone and convince him they’re going to spirit him away from Earth. After a few characters are eaten, the Doctor figures out a way to stop the aliens, and succeeds in this endeavor despite a close shave in the climax. And that’s why I don’t have much to say about “Glam Rock” — there’s really nothing to talk about. The aliens view Earth as a sort of highway oasis, which I suppose is ironic, but the script is almost totally devoid of the sort of depth or atmosphere I’ve come to expect from Paul Magrs. Points for the tone, though, which gives the proceedings a distinctly ironic feel.

    Fortunately, the characters provide entertainment. The Doctor is much more easygoing than in his previous outing “Blood of the Daleks,” and his relationship with Lucie appears to have mellowed considerably. I’ve seen this criticized, but I think it works very well: I don’t think it’s necessary to show the regulars bickering for several episodes on end, as it tends to alienate the listener from finding the journeys exciting. We’ve been over that with the sixth Doctor and Peri, and it wouldn’t work any better today. We also get to see more of Lucie as a character, as her defensive exterior slips from time to time — Sheridan Smith’s sudden enthusiasm at meeting her aunt Pat (Lynsey Harwick) is adorable — and we also get to see her personal strength as the crisis worsens. Paul McGann gets to play this one on cruise control, though there’s one surprisingly effective scene of darkness and anger with Arnold that commands attention. The supporting cast is very good, particularly Cribbins, whose performance as Arnold is darkly hilarious and surprisingly dignified at the conclusion. Gately isn’t particularly convincing — I gather he’s some sort of pop star — but he’s not a detriment to the play.

    On the production front, Gareth Jenkins’ sound design is remarkably gruesome, as we get to listen in to the screaming, chewing and crunching as the aliens devour the human characters. Tim Sutton’s music is a delight, a ludicrously inappropriate glam rock score that provides entertaining transitions between scenes. Barnaby Edwards’ direction is solid, with enthusiastic performances and a great pace. The CD package also includes interviews with Cribbins, Una Stubbs, Gately, and Buckfield, as well as unblemished tracks of the song “Children of Tomorrow” and the glam rock version of the Doctor Who theme.

    Overall, this is a solid, unmemorable Doctor Who story, helped mightily by its cast. The ironic, winking tone may be off-putting to some listeners, but this is classic series Doctor Who of the most traditional type. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’ll love this — there’s really nothing more to say.

    7/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:39 pm
  • From Styre on 1.2 – Blood of the Daleks Part 2

    BLOOD OF THE DALEKS, PART TWO

    The second part of Steve Lyons’ “Blood of the Daleks” served as more of a showcase for the new BBC7 series than its predecessor. With the necessary, if oftentimes awkward, introductory material out of the way, the second part allowed the Dalek story to take center stage. And it works, for the most part: it’s a solid, efficient Doctor Who story, with exciting action pieces and just enough material to keep the brain occupied as well.

    Predictability is not a sin when it comes to storytelling, but nonetheless “Blood of the Daleks” stays to a very reliable course. Despite this, it provides possibly the most direct examination of the Daleks’ crazed devotion to racial purity yet seen in Doctor Who — while in “Dalek,” one individual Dalek committed suicide to eliminate its tainted bloodline, here a rag-tag batallion of Daleks stops fighting a devastating war so that they can destroy a planet on which the creation of other Daleks might be taking place. Indeed, this racial hatred is shown to be an essential part of the Dalek character — even Martez’s new Daleks, mere minutes from the “womb,” view the world in terms of superiority/inferiority. This also leads to a disturbingly effective scene in which Martez (Hayley Atwell) comforts one of “her” dying Daleks by assuring it that its blood is purest, and that it represents the future of the universe. It’s almost enough to make you sorry for the Dalek, until you understand the nature of the comforting.

    I say, though, that the story is predictable, because we’re essentially presented with another competing-factions-of-Daleks story. The Doctor complicates matters somewhat by initially helping one side, but by the end we’re back into “Remembrance” territory with the two sides at open war and the Doctor waiting for the opportunity to strike both at once. The resolution is a little odd — the remaining Dalek force is defeated by… dropping rocks on them? Really? — but can be chalked up to pre-existing damage suffered in the war. None of this makes “Blood of the Daleks” a bad story — quite the opposite, as it is exciting and well-paced.

    This is almost certainly Paul McGann’s most intense turn as the Doctor. He shows a remarkable streak of bloodlust when it comes to disposing of the Daleks. Shockingly, when the story attempts to use Klint’s moral arguments (Anita Dobson) to bring him up short, it immediately reverses course and demonstrates that the Doctor has been right all along. Not that I expect moral ambiguity when it comes to the Daleks, but usually the Doctor isn’t quite this ruthless. McGann plays it to the hilt, with the only humor coming from his bickering with Lucie. Sheridan Smith, for her part, is up to McGann’s challenge, as Lucie meets this grimmer Doctor halfway without giving any ground. The bickering gets a little old by the end of the play, but hopefully the relationship between the regulars will start to mellow. I loved hearing that the Doctor tried to leave at the end, though. As in Part 1, Dobson and Atwell give solid performances, though Dobson is shaky in some of her confrontation scenes — the ubiquitous “Can’t you do anything but kill??” line falls particularly flat. Kenneth Cranham is surprisingly heroic after his tin-foil-hat-lunatic turn in the first episode. And kudos to Nicholas Briggs for his voicing of the Martez Daleks, which do indeed sound more human than their traditional counterparts. The production is up to the same high standard as the first part — unsurprising considering the same people worked on both plays.

    Overall, “Blood of the Daleks, Part 2” is good, solid Doctor Who, and a fine conclusion to the first part. We’re starting to see the evolution of the Doctor/Lucie relationship as well. It’s not mind-blowing, and certainly not up to the standard of the best Big Finish plays, but this is great for what it is: a quality Dalek story designed to draw in new listeners. I look forward to the rest of the range.

    Recommended.

    7/10.

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:38 pm
  • From Styre on 1.1 – Blood of the Daleks Part 1

    BLOOD OF THE DALEKS, PART ONE

    In addition to the relaunch of the main Doctor Who range under new producer Nicholas Briggs, 2007 also saw a new direction for Big Finish: a series of plays, starring Paul McGann, produced for airing on BBC7 and later released to the public in CD format. With the new series naturally commanding attention, this was a fine opportunity for Big Finish to draw attention to their classic series-oriented product. And what better way to do so than to employ the Daleks?

    The first part of Steve Lyons’ “Blood of the Daleks” serves an important function: it must introduce new listeners to the universe of the eighth Doctor. To facilitate this, a new companion, Lucie Miller (Sheridan Smith), is introduced — but unlike “Rose” or “Smith and Jones” and the new series, “Blood of the Daleks” presupposes familiarity with the series and tells its story from the Doctor’s perspective. Unfortunately, Lyons’ script is incredibly jumbled during these crucial opening scenes. Lucie’s introduction is *too* confusing, with her sudden appearance in the TARDIS control room, and the Doctor is barely given time to react to her appearances or to the periodic revelations in her dialogue. I’m not sure it was necessary to couch her history in such secrecy — yes, the specific reason for her presence is clearly going to be an ongoing mystery, but a character acting obnoxious with existing knowledge of the Doctor is still acting obnoxious. Lucie isn’t likable at all in these first scenes, and the Doctor’s frustration doesn’t help, believable as McGann’s portrayal may be.

    Fortunately, once Lucie’s background is revealed, the play opens right up. McGann and Smith have a fine chemistry, and Lucie’s sassy personality gels nicely with the eighth Doctor’s joie de vivre. They’re also thrown into a unique setting: a post-apocalyptic colony planet, barely hanging on after an asteroid severely damaged the atmosphere. Much of the play is reminiscent of Dalek Empire III, with the Daleks coming across a devastated human world and offering “help” — but Lyons’ central twist involving Asha Gryvern (Hayley Atwell), Martez (Atwell again), and the Daleks themselves is shockingly brilliant. The Daleks’ reaction to the Doctor’s presence is always entertaining, and their demands of the acting president, Klint (Anita Dobson), are expected but devious all the same. Thematically, there’s not much going on, but I expect much more from the second part now that the setup is complete.

    As mentioned above, McGann and Smith share an easy chemistry that is evident from their first scenes together. Lucie sounds like a welcome addition to the Doctor Who family of companions after this first installment: she’s feisty without being annoying, self-sufficient without being repulsive, and not above using what’s available to her (read: sexuality) to get things done. The supporting cast is great as well: Dobson presents a beaten, stressed leader, ultimately willing to compromise her principles to save her people, while Atwell shifts from an annoying subordinate with something to hide to something much more chilling. Kenneth Cranham is excellent, too, as the unstable Tom Cardwell, prophet of doom who will no doubt be proven right. And, though it barely needs mentioning at this point, Nicholas Briggs once again acquits himself as one of the best-ever Dalek voice artists. The reliable team of Gareth Jenkins and Andy Hardwick offer fine sound design and a solid score, while Briggs directs the play and shows the same talent for Dalek stories on display in the Dalek Empire series.

    Ultimately, “Blood of the Daleks, Part 1” doesn’t work nearly as well as it should as an introductory episode to a new series. The opening scenes are muddled and confusing, the central characters are given an adversarial relationship, and the action takes forever to get going. Things pick up rapidly from there, however, launching an entertaining story that promises to have a very strong conclusion in the second part.

    Flawed, therefore, but promising, and recommended for what it promises.

    6/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:38 pm
  • From Styre on The Davros Mission

    THE DAVROS MISSION

    It’s no secret that Big Finish have contributed much to the world of Doctor Who: they reinvigorated Colin Baker’s Doctor in the eyes of many fans, they brought Paul McGann back and turned him into a Doctor that could stand proudly with the others, and they demonstrated that performed Doctor Who could accomodate the sort of layered, complex storytelling that would come to define the new TV series. But in terms of their additions to the Doctor Who fictional universe, none have been greater than their achievements with Davros, transforming a recurring-yet-motiveless villain into one of the most fascinating characters in the history of the show. I was excited when the BBC released its Davros-themed DVD box set because they included not only every single Davros TV story but also every Big Finish production. I really hope consumers took the time to listen to these stories — especially Lance Parkin’s phenomenal “Davros,” Joseph Lidster’s “Terror Firma,” and the exceptional I, Davros miniseries — because they honestly make the TV stories even better. But included with this set was an exclusive audio story: Nicholas Briggs’s “The Davros Mission” — and while it has one or two obvious flaws, it’s definitely good enough to stand with the rest.

    We’ll get the flaws out of the way first. I usually don’t complain too much about continuity between stories, but seeing as “The Davros Mission” was released in a set with “The Juggernauts” and is related to that story in the DVD booklet, isn’t it a bit irresponsible to have the two stories provide contradictory stories of Davros’s post-Revelation experiences? I think “Davros Mission” is better than “Juggernauts,” but in fairness to Scott Alan Woodard, he got there first. Secondly, the aliens Gus and Raz, though amusingly portrayed by Sean Connolly and Gregg Newton, seem bizarrely out of place on a Dalek ship. Yes, their biology makes them uniquely suited to serve as Dalek slaves, but sarcastic-put-upon-working-class-comic-relief characters? Really?

    Looking back at “Genesis of the Daleks,” it’s obvious that story was meant to stand alone: Davros is clearly killed at the conclusion in Terry Nation’s masterful use of the cliched “creations kill the evil scientist” plot. Viewed with hindsight, however, that scene needed to happen: in surviving, Davros gained an understanding of his creations unmatched even by the Doctor. Observe how easily he can manipulate them in “Davros Mission” just by talking to them: given a matter of minutes, he nearly succeeds in talking an individual Dalek over to his side. And Briggs clearly realizes this: he actually gives Davros the virus spoken of in “Genesis,” gives him the power of life and death over his entire creation. Does that power set him up above the gods? Probably so — if there’s an “above the gods” position in the Who universe, Emperor of the Daleks is close to it. This is one of Briggs’ best scripts because of Davros alone: he’s flirting with the insanity we see flourish in “Remembrance” and “Terror Firma,” but he controls it through his desire to once again lead his creations. And there aren’t enough words to describe Terry Molloy’s performance. I said it after I, Davros, and I’ll say it again now, even in light of Julian Bleach’s excellent turn in “The Stolen Earth” and “Journey’s End:” Molloy is the best Davros ever. The madness, the desperation, the ruthless intelligence, the manipulation — it’s all there in his performance, and he’s as good as ever in “Davros Mission.” His upcoming Unbound performance notwithstanding, this is apparently Molloy’s final appearance as Davros in the Doctor Who universe — it’s a huge loss, and we should feel fortunate that we were able to enjoy his time in the role. Miranda Raison is very good as Lareen, the invisible Thal “angel” on Davros’s shoulder — but this is Molloy’s show, and everyone else is along for the ride.

    Is “The Davros Mission” flawless? No, and its flaws are noticable and confusing. But it stands up as a wonderful character study of Davros and his relationship with the Daleks, and shows Nicholas Briggs’s writing at its best. Don’t buy the Davros set just to get this — that’s just too much money to spend — but if you have the set, or if you know someone that does, give it a listen. It’s one last little piece to Big Finish’s Davros puzzle, and it makes the shared universe all the richer. Fine work.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:37 pm
  • From Styre on VII – Return of the Krotons

    RETURN OF THE KROTONS

    If there’s a word for Nicholas Briggs’s latest Doctor Who script, “Return of the Krotons,” it’s “traditional.” Far future setting, mysterious disappearance, the return of old monsters, and not an innovative or interesting concept on display for the entire running time. There are lots of continuity references, of course: besides the titular Krotons themselves, the Doctor talks extensively about the Ark (in Space), Charley mentions C’rizz in a moment of weakness, and, arising from that, more acknowledgment of the increasingly-ridiculous secrets Charley is keeping from the Doctor. So it’s a character story, right? Well, no. The supporting cast is entirely unmemorable, populated entirely with clichéd sci-fi mad scientists and resistance leaders — only the presence of the stellar Philip Madoc, a veteran of the original story, elevates proceedings through his talent alone. This helps with the general lack of interest.

    Which brings me to my main question about this story: why bring back the Krotons at all? Sure, Briggs and Ian Brooker sound quite like their 1969 counterparts, but they weren’t very interesting “monsters” to begin with — and Briggs does absolutely nothing to make them any more intriguing. Yeah, there’s the idea of a human/Kroton hybrid, but you have to do something with that idea, not just exclaim dramatically that you can see an eyeball in its head.

    None of this is to say that “Return of the Krotons” is bad, but it’s exactly the sort of story that you’d expect to get as a free subscriber bonus. If it seems like this is an incredibly brief review, fine — I’ve written over 150 of these things and there are only so many ways to describe an average, unmemorable Doctor Who story. But hey, Colin Baker’s great.

    5/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:35 pm
  • From Styre on VI – Return to the Web Planet

    RETURN TO THE WEB PLANET

    “The Web Planet” — it’s boring, it’s poorly-made, and it’s always one of the lowest-rated Doctor Who stories among fans. Hardly a good candidate for a sequel, then, but nonetheless there’s something fascinating about the TV story’s ambition: to realize an alien world with no humanoid characters whatsoever is captivating, and so we’ve been back there both in the novels — “Twilight of the Gods” — and now in the audios. And with Daniel O’Mahony, one of the most controversial novel writers, behind the script, this was guaranteed to be interesting, subscriber freebie or not.

    The biggest surprise about “Return to the Web Planet” is how little it calls back to the original television story. While the Menoptera and the Zarbi reappear, that’s it — there’s no Isoptope and no Animus, nor anything else like that. Instead, we’re given a surprisingly traditional Doctor Who story, which basically involves the Doctor, Nyssa, Acheron (Sam Kelly), and Hedyla (Julie Buckfield) running back and forth between three settings and uncovering more pieces of the plot. The Doctor makes a deductive mistake but fortunately is in time to fix the problem and save the day. It’s also surprising just how easygoing this story is: despite the encroaching Zarbi, there are few scenes of true danger, and the Doctor and Nyssa seem to be very relaxed in the company of their Menopteran hosts.

    And the idea at the heart of the play is a fine one: humans realize that colonization isn’t a healthy practice after all, and so they decide to send out seed ships, incorporating the human genome into an ecosystem and allowing humanity to evolve organically with life on other planets. It’s elegant and fascinating, and it’s the sort of throwaway idea that successful science fiction uses to stimulate the mind. I hadn’t heard any scripts by O’Mahony before, and while I was therefore surprised to find that his prose style apparently didn’t translate to audio, I wasn’t surprised at all at the subtle, thought-provoking ideas in an otherwise simple script.

    As with the other subscriber bonus releases, “Return to the Web Planet” features a small yet effective cast. Peter Davison and Sarah Sutton have a couple of awkward yelling scenes at the beginning, but they continue to show their usual easy chemistry, especially as the tone of the play grows more relaxed. Kelly and Buckfield provide a good performance of their own, demonstrating a believable father-daughter relationship. Matthew Noble and Claire Wyatt don’t do much as Yanesh and the Speaker, but Noble’s strain under the influence of the Zarbi hive mind is quite effective.

    “Return to the Web Planet” also features an excellent production from Steve Foxon, who creates quite an effective soundscape while simultaneously recollecting the TV story. The Zarbi effects are as good as ever! The music, too, fits the tone of the story. Barnaby Edwards’ direction is as solid as ever. The only extras on the CD are selections of Foxon’s music — and quite a bit of it, with almost twenty full minutes of music after the play is over. Lastly, the cover illustration is beautiful, a fine recreation of the Target era.

    Overall, “Return to the Web Planet” is the best of the subscriber bonus releases. It refers enough to its predecessor to qualify as a true sequel, but sets out its own ideas and more than justifies itself as worthwhile. Combine this with fine performances and an excellent production and you’ve got a winner.

    Recommended.

    8/10

    Go to comment
    2016/05/07 at 9:33 pm