Set in Nazi occupied France during WWII – Ah, la belle Lucie. She’s got no idea what she’s let herself in for. Heh. Should you feel faint, or nauseous – never fear. Tonight, we have a Doctor in the house.
Set in Nazi occupied France during WWII – Ah, la belle Lucie. She’s got no idea what she’s let herself in for. Heh. Should you feel faint, or nauseous – never fear. Tonight, we have a Doctor in the house.
THE SCAPEGOAT
I wasn’t a huge fan of “Dead London,” Pat Mills’ previous script for the Paul McGann series — it was too disjointed, too lacking in motivation, more interested in throwing out cliches than learning about its characters. I’m pleased to say that “The Scapegoat,” the fifth story in the third “season” of McGann audios, is a significant improvement on Mills’ previous effort: it’s a bit slight on story, but it does wonderful things with atmosphere.
There’s a wonderful sense of the macabre surrounding this play: it centers around a Parisian theatre, the Theatre des Baroque, which stars Max Paul (Paul Rhys), the “Most Assassinated Man in the World,” in a series of productions with one element in common: they all conclude with his demise, often in spectactular fashion. In the manner of the best Doctor Who, the science behind Paul’s resurrections — the “quantic reanimator” — is handwaved away with a brief explanation, while the background is wonderfully fleshed out: he’s a Scapegoat, the target of violence and ire, the means through which his race siphons off their natural bloodlust. Mills sees the obvious parallel and runs with it: the Doctor is a scapegoat for his own people, the one who does their dirty work and yet gets punished for it. It’s refreshing to have a script that approaches its central character head-on like this, something which has become less common since the advent of the new television series.
As mentioned above, the atmosphere is fantastic. The setting, WWII-era Nazi-occupied Paris, is a fairly common time period for Doctor Who novels and audios, but Mills lends it a delightful air of absurdity: the TARDIS’s chameleon circut is interfered with, leading it to turn into a massive carnival carousel, and Lucie gets stuck riding it before disappearing. The Gestapo, led by Major Treptow (Clifford Rose), pursues the Doctor, thinking the TARDIS is a new, top-secret invisible aircraft, something that must be captured for the Reich — but they’re tricked on stage and duped into embarrassing themselves before the very public they despise. Lucie is utterly horrified by the spectacle of the theater, and terrified of Mother Baroque (Samantha Bond) and the Baroks — and yet she ends up on stage in a surprisingly hilarious bout of improvisation.
The cast turns in a series of excellent, well-directed performances. Sheridan Smith is the star of this story, as she is allowed to demonstrate perhaps her widest range yet, from terror to comedy to confusion. Paul McGann seems to do best in these more lyrical stories — his easygoing performances seem to best suit his Doctor, and this is one of his best. As for the supporting cast, Bond and Rhys are particular standouts, not to mention Christopher Fairbank as Doc. Rose’s performance is perhaps too one-note, but given the satirical nature of the character it’s acceptable. I already mentioned Nicholas Briggs’ direction was quite successful with his actors, but it also shows a keen understanding of the script. Matthew Cochrane’s sound design is sublime; Jamie Robertson’s score less so, but certainly adequate for the proceedings.
Overall, there isn’t a great deal more to say about “The Scapegoat” — the atmosphere is wonderful, but there isn’t a significant amount of depth outside of its brief commentary on the Doctor’s history. It’s remarkably similar to “The Beast of Orlok” in many ways — but while that story wraps itself in the trappings of Hinchcliffe-era Doctor Who, this one blazes its own trail. I’d like to see more of the world this story inhabits, but for a brief glimpse, “The Scapegoat” is remarkably satisfying.
Recommended.
8/10