Trapped in a strange house, the Doctor and Charley investigate murders without motives and with victims that don’t stay dead.
Trapped in a strange house, the Doctor and Charley investigate murders without motives and with victims that don’t stay dead.
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