Marooned on a strange planet, Benny awakes to strange voices in her head and a bunch of Monoids threatening to cut out her tongue!
Marooned on a strange planet, Benny awakes to strange voices in her head and a bunch of Monoids threatening to cut out her tongue!
Bernice Summerfield and the Kingdom of the Blind
Have we been here before?
I wasn’t most fond of Jac Raynor’s the Grel Escape, the story flew by with a few too many obvious contrivances for my tastes, and it was all done far too tongue in cheek. That Jac Raynor is capable of putting together a good play though, and that she writes good humorous dialogue, has never been in question. Like the preceding story this series I’m not familiar with the returning monsters, however as the concept of the Monoids is much simpler than that of the Eternals I’m prepared to have a stab at judging this blind (or should that be semi-blind? See I can make jokes as well).
Things kick off with a long conversation between Bernice and an unknown stranger, revealed to be the mute slave 26 or alternatively the familiar Caroline Morris who manages to express convincingly sheer delight at being able to speak at all. The story plays out in two halves, with Bernice walking blindly into the clutches of the Monoids, whilst Jason suffers a traumatic injury courtesy of his wife and wanders into the blind clutches of 44. The writing for both halves is brilliant, although I lean towards the Jason segments as the Monoid sections are played mostly for laughs. The grave, ominous story told by 44 is almost too stark a contrast to the light, wilfully violent, carefree approach of Richard Unwin’s Monoid sections, it is however a sign of the way the story will end.
As I gather this story is a prequel to The Ark, explaining how these aliens lost their planet and their speech. In order to do this Jac Raynor introduces her own creations, the Halavans, which actually (and fortunately) occupy the majority of the play. The running joke of a society obsessed with one upmannship begins to run thin fairly quickly, and scenes with Bernice pretending to be death whilst obviously winding up her captor with a toneless work song grates. Meanwhile a sad tension is building in the background, a dangerous picture of violent discontent in the underclass. Citizen Kane this isn’t, however it is a credible attempt at it within a sixty minute timeframe, and the conclusion is in some ways, shocking.
So, all credit to Jac Raynor who has put together a fantastic story that features Monoids, that veers sharply between crude comedy and violent melodrama, managing to fit neatly into every slot in-between. Well worth a listen, even if (or because of) it is a little light on how it features its unique selling point.
7 / 10