Nicaea, AD325. The Fifth Doctor, Peri and Erimem are there to witness the first great church council, but become caught up in history.
Nicaea, AD325. The Fifth Doctor, Peri and Erimem are there to witness the first great church council, but become caught up in history.
THE COUNCIL OF NICAEA
I admit, I was starting to lose heart. A lackluster start to 2005 just kept getting worse, with a triple shot of Catch-1782, Three’s A Crowd, and Unregenerate! enough to weaken the resistance of even the most staunch Big Finish listener. Next on the horizon was The Council of Nicaea, a historical from Caroline Symcox, half of the writing partnership that had brought us Seasons of Fear and something of an expert on the historical period in question. I was cautiously optimistic going in, but I steeled myself for the inevitable disappointment. But by the end of the first episode, there was an unusual feeling in the pit of my stomach. It seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it — until, suddenly, it hit me: it was interest! I actually cared about what was going on! Sarcasm aside, though, this is the sort of thing we should have seen more of from BF over the past year of releases.
At first glance, this looks like a return to one of Doctor Who’s oldest and most famous tropes: the desire of the Doctor not to change history, and the naive insistence of a companion that a change would be for the better. But there’s an important reversion here from The Aztecs: while in the 1960s episode, Barbara knew Aztec history and had a reasonable idea of the consequences of changing history, here Erimem is in her own future, and a change of history will not affect her in any particular respect. As such, she’s not trying to right a great historical wrong, she’s merely taking events as she sees them: someone’s voice needs to be heard and she sees no reason why he should be supressed. This, of course, picks at the edges of one of the troubling questions inherent in the Doctor Who mythology: why is the Doctor so eager to change history on other planets but so reluctant to do so on Earth? The question is asked here, to Symcox’s credit, but unfortunately there is nothing in the way of a response — then again, how could such a question ever be answered?
The Council of Nicaea is largely a character piece, as historical events do not deviate radically from their original course and most of the focus is devoted to the TARDIS crew and their internal conflict. The plot is tied very well to its characters, especially Constantine, who is seen from every perspective but is revealed at the conclusion to be different from all of them: though he wields tyrannical power, he uses it only to ensure that the Council proceeds, refusing to involve himself in the process. My major problem with the script lies with its seeming desire to drum up unnecessary conflict: Clement kills two guards, for example, but no serious consequences are suffered as the Doctor separately talks Constantine off the edge. At the end of the play, Constantine goes out to meet Arius’s followers — but wait, he’s betrayed them, and has brought his legionaries! Wait, no he hasn’t, it’s all a misunderstanding on Gaius’s part. This doesn’t detract from the play, but it seems like unnecessary padding. There’s also some very obvious restatement of the moral of the story at the conclusion, and the “what happened to the characters after this” speech by the Doctor in the TARDIS goes on too long. However, these are relatively minor complaints.
Peter Davison, who sounded rather disinterested in his last outing, is back on form here, bringing his frustrated yet restrained television persona to the fore. I’m fairly sure Hartnell would have beaten Erimem to death with his cane in this situation, but it’s perfectly easy to understand Davison’s helplessness — he just isn’t the type to abandon a companion in a situation like this. Caroline Morris takes center stage, as this is Erimem’s story, and she continues to impress: this is a stubborn, determined character, and Morris’s voice is very commanding when necessary. Peri does less well; she’s just a little too chirpy and even childish sometimes. I’m not sure if the intent was to counterpoint Peri against Erimem, but Nicola Bryant’s performance, while true to the script, started to grate after a time. The supporting cast is very strong, led by David Bamber’s powerful turn as Emperor Constantine. Steve Kynman is suitably driven as Arius, while Claire Carroll brings an enigmatic air to Fausta.
On the production front, Gareth Jenkins does his usual excellent work. Perhaps the only complaint is that the crowd sounds aren’t exactly perfect, but capturing the sound of a large crowd is incredibly difficult. Russell Stone provides his first score since The Next Life, and it, too, is up to his usual standard, though it’s remarkably subdued for a Stone composition. Gary Russell directs the play well, giving the necessary breathing room to a thoughtful piece.
I won’t hail The Council of Nicaea as the all-conquering classic that some have called it, but I will say that it’s the best BF production in well over a year and the best Davison play since Omega. No, it doesn’t aspire to any great heights, nor does it achieve the greatness of some of its historical predecessors, but it does combine a straightforward, provocative script with excellent performances and a fine production. This is the sort of thing we used to see all the time from Big Finish — now could they please keep it up?
Highly recommended.
8/10