The TARDIS takes the Doctor, Charley and C’rizz to a strange suburban street with no beginning or end and some very strange residents.
The TARDIS takes the Doctor, Charley and C’rizz to a strange suburban street with no beginning or end and some very strange residents.
MEMORY LANE
Tracking Eddie Robson’s Doctor Who short stories reveals an author who quickly progressed from “promising” to “boy, I’d like to see this guy get a shot at an audio” — and, sure enough, he got his chance with “Memory Lane,” a simple, quirky character piece that comes as welcome, quality relief to the oppressive seriousness of the previous six releases. Doctor Who is relatively unique in how it can be intriguing and fun at the same time, and Robson demonstrates quite a grasp of this in his first script for the range.
“Memory Lane” features a brilliant little setting: an endless suburban street, each successive house absolutely identical to the last, right down to the residents. While the local ice cream truck patrols outside, young Tom Braudy (Neil Reidman) plays with his LEGOs and his grandmother (Nina Baden-Semper) watches snooker and prepares dinner. It’s idyllic, and though it’s unusual it’s almost totally benign and unthreatening on its face. Credit Robson with allowing his characters to soak this in — dumping the TARDIS in Mrs. Braudy’s living room and letting the regulars enjoy a relaxing afternoon for a short time. The Doctor delights in buying ice cream for his companions, a cute type of scene we don’t often see from this crew. Of course, this is where the intrigue starts — how do you find the TARDIS when all the houses look the same? Why does Tom look middle-aged? What’s with the spaceship in one of the attics?
The revelations, when they come, are both simple and effective. There are a number of possible influences on display here — the suburb-as-prison was briefly touched upon in an episode of Angel, while the viewing jailers aren’t too far off from hyper-reality TV stuff like The Truman Show, to name a couple of possibilities — and Robson skillfully blends them together. Most intriguing, though, are the questions of identity raised by the play. The aliens don’t seem to have the ability to record history — what kind of society develops when it cannot reflect on its own past? The logical recourse is memory, but the Lucentrans struggle with retention as well, so they’re forced to continually recreate past events to keep them secure in the mind. (These facets are linked, of course — a society without a concept of long-term memory isn’t likely to think of producing a recording medium.) One wonders how much of a prison Tom’s environment really is, from a native perspective. This reliance upon memory also allows us insight into the regular characters. While Tom and Charley are both imprisoned in recollections of their youth and family, the Doctor’s idyllic situation is the aftermath of victory, and features him explaining his brilliance to his companions. It’s funny, to be sure, but especially in light of the new series it underscores just how important companions are to the Doctor. And a world of praise to Robson for remembering that C’rizz is actually a distinct character and using that character’s unique traits to invent an unexpected situation.
If there’s a flaw with “Memory Lane,” it’s tonal: the play is perhaps a bit too silly given that the material is presented with relative seriousness. There are moments throughout the play where the script seems conflicted between comedy and drama. The end, in particular, seems almost arbitrary — the Doctor brushes off a legitimate question from C’rizz and then points out that he’s about to do something even more foolish, and then it ends! These are, however, relatively minor flaws.
The eighth Doctor is much more frivolous here than in recent releases, and Paul McGann delivers his comic material with obvious enjoyment. India Fisher gets to play a young Charley for some of the play and gives a cute, appealing performance. And though C’rizz is paired off with Kim (Sara Carver) and left to argue for much of the play, Conrad Westmaas gives an enthusiastic performance and steps to the forefront with aplomb at the conclusion. The supporting cast is mostly non-descript, though Baden-Semper is amusing as a dotty old suburban grandmother and Charlie Ross and Neville Watchurst present an entertaining double-act as Lest and Argot. Credit to Anneke Wills, too, for stepping back into the role of Louisa Pollard, seen in a good script for the very first time.
David Darlington handles the sound design again, and does a fine job with a play that isn’t especially effects-driven. Credit in particular for his ice cream truck chime — the hollow, tinny repetitions of “Greensleeves” creeped the hell out of me, and made me thankful for the much more ridiculous tone played by American vans. Gary Russell, nearing the end of his tenure as producer, takes the director’s chair, and ably captures the tone and pacing of Robson’s script.
After the heavy going of “Red,” “The Reaping,” and “The Gathering,” it’s nice to cleanse the palate with a more lighthearted release. Robson’s script is both witty and intriguing, and though the plot is fairly straightforward there’s enough going on under the surface to keep listeners coming back.
Highly recommended.
8/10