2.1 The Invention of Death by John Dorney
After an experimental flight, the TARDIS crew find themselves on one of the strangest worlds they have ever encountered.
Alien life takes many forms, and on Ashtallah the travellers find all their preconceptions tested.
But this world is about to make a discovery – and it could mean the end of everything.
2.2 The Barbarians and the Samurai by Andrew Smith
In 19th Century Japan, Westerners are forbidden. So when the TARDIS arrives near Lord Mamoru’s castle, the daimyo’s Samurai are soon on their trail.
Uncovering secrets at court and treachery in the ranks, the Doctor and his friends are drawn into intrigue. And, as a battle begins, they are caught in the middle.
THE FIRST DOCTOR ADVENTURES: THE INVENTION OF DEATH
The First Doctor Adventures are back, and with them comes Big Finish’s slavish adherence to the storytelling conceits of the early 1960s, meaning that here we have eight episodes of Doctor Who that could have been generously told in three. The first installment in this second box set is John Dorney’s “The Invention of Death,” a story that turns around an admittedly brilliant idea: a race of aliens that are essentially living beams of light, creatures that cannot age and cannot die, and how their society and their views change when the mortal, physical TARDIS crew lands on their world.
I absolutely love Dorney’s ideas here. To write an alien race that has no concept of death is a daring move for an author, for as Ian points out in the story, it’s virtually impossible as mortal creatures to put ourselves in their shoes. Yet he largely pulls it off, introducing us to this society through self-described scientists Brenna (Michelle Morris) and Sharlan (Tracy Wiles). Take the first cliffhanger, which is wonderful: these beings play by tossing objects back and forth, much as we might toss a ball. But with no physical form and no need to fear injury, they fling razor sharp spears. When Barbara approaches a crowd at play, they want to involve her in their game, so they fling a spear at her and almost kill her. While Ian and the Doctor panic and try desperately to save her life, their hosts stand curiously, wondering why Barbara is not moving and why her body is leaking red fluid. It’s incredibly well done and it’s a fine example of drama in this old-fashioned style.
But there comes a point when something is too old-fashioned and this is an example of it. Despite the brilliance of that first cliffhanger, there really isn’t any conflict in the story until the third episode, just misunderstanding and attempts at comprehension. It’s glacially paced, with each slow discovery about the society handed out in languorous drips. The main cast are written and performed practically as parodies of themselves – but in a story this slow, every character trait has to be drawn out and emphasized, leading to regimented performances. Jemma Powell in particular sounds like she’s teaching a class on etiquette, while Claudia Grant is so breathless as Susan it’s a wonder she can get the words out. Even David Bradley, who at least shows a bit of personality, seems to approach every line reading the same way. None of this is to say that the performances are bad, of course, but it’s impossible for something this slow to avoid sounding stagey.
I know I’m going to be saying the same thing about these stories as the range progresses, but honestly, what’s the point of recasting the original cast if you’re just going to put them in stories made deliberately to sound over fifty years old? Instead of allowing them to put their own spins on the characters, you’re forcing them into traditionalist boxes, with every drip of personality dispensed over endless pages of dialogue. It’s 2018 and you have a dynamic, incredibly talented cast: why can’t we see these characters in a modern, 45-minute piece of drama?
Look – “The Invention of Death” is quite good for what it is. It’s one of the best Dorney scripts we’ve had in a while, and that’s saying something. But if you’re going to separate these stories out as their own special range, do something special with them – otherwise just call them more Early Adventures and be done with it.
7/10
THE FIRST DOCTOR ADVENTURES: THE BARBARIANS AND THE SAMURAI
If you think back to the first season of Doctor Who, you’ll remember that the stories were evenly split between historical stories and science fiction adventures. You may also recall that the reason they told historical stories was to fulfill an educational remit: in addition to Daleks, kids watching could also learn about the Aztecs or witness life during the Reign of Terror in France. Andrew Smith remembers these things as well, and boy does he ever show it in “The Barbarians and the Samurai.”
“The Invention of Death” was glacially slow but interesting; “The Barbarians and the Samurai” has a lot more incident but only provokes in brief moments. It’s every inch the traditional historical: the Doctor and his companions land in early 19th century Japan and are rapidly separated from the TARDIS. All they want to do is get back to the TARDIS and leave, but they become wrapped up in historical events and cannot escape until the plot is resolved. The local daimyo, Mamoru (Sadao Ueda), is secretly working with an English defector, Casper Knox (Andrew Wincott), to acquire modern weapons and use them to overthrow the shogun. Naturally, the TARDIS crew becomes involved in this intrigue, and what follows is an endless series of captures and escapes. It feels as though all four main characters are prisoners at one point or another, and all four of them also make it to the outside where they are helped by former samurai Shumei (Dan Li). Shumei, of course, used to work for Mamoru, and just as naturally is in love with Mamoru’s daughter Keiko (Susan Hingley). I don’t really need to describe any more, as there’s nothing unpredictable or surprising about the story. Perhaps the only intriguing moment comes at the end, when Mamoru accepts his defeat in contemplative, philosophical fashion, rather than lashing out in anger.
While the story isn’t interesting, Smith doesn’t let it drag – there’s a lot of running around, being captured, escaping. But what grinds it to a halt is Smith’s effort to recapture the educational remit: every single time the TARDIS crew encounters a new element of Japanese culture or history, someone is there to offer a name, definition, and brief history lesson about that element. We get brief lectures on words like shogun, daimyo, ronin, samurai, bushido, and many more, each one sounding clunky and out of place. Sure, Barbara is a history teacher, but her note-perfect expertise on Japanese history isn’t entirely believable, and while Shumei is a patient, admirable character, it doesn’t sound right for him to do this either. (There’s also a brief moment that happens in both stories in this set: Barbara introduces herself and a character that’s never heard the name Barbara before slowly sounds it out: “Bar-ba-ra?” The problem, of course, is that Jemma Powell says it like “Bar-bra,” so where do they get the third syllable?)
I’ll repeat what I said in my other review: there’s an opportunity here to push boundaries, to tell different kinds of stories featuring this new take on the original Doctor Who characters. Instead, Big Finish is choosing to hew as closely to the 1963 storytelling style as possible. I don’t mind the new voices – in fact, they’re all very good – but crowbarring them into a close approximation of 55-year-old television does nothing but underscore the fact that they’re not the original cast. Hopefully this trend will slow as this range continues.
6/10