Short Trips 2013: The Space Thief, episode 1: Journey into Mystery

Bernie was strolling across the grounds, trying to look nonchalant, when he heard the noise. It was like nothing he'd heard before. Space! he thought; have they started disintegratin' suspects now? Quickly, he crouched behind a stack of transit cases.

After a short time the sound faded again, leaving just the regular background noise of London's busy skyways. He risked a peek round the corner. Nobody was about, nothing seemed unusual. Except...was that a lamp stuck on top of that tall blue crate? Weird.

A sudden, more earthly sound - perhaps a door handle being turned - set Bernie's heart racing again, and he ducked back down. It was definitely coming from the blue crate...


The TARDIS doors opened with a creak. Barbara Wright's hand appeared first, resting lightly on the edge of the wood; then her arm, shoulder, head, as she peered out at the bright sunlight; next her left foot; and finally the rest of her, emerging in a single forward motion.

Delight lit her face as she breathed deep the fresh air of this future land, gazed into clear skies as flying cars streamed overhead. Once fully separated from the time and space machine that was her - hopefully temporary! - home, her movement slowed. She took her time, let the sensations of a new world sink in. She turned in a circle, each step measured, and studied her surroundings with a quiet smile and dancing eyes.

Ian Chesterton strode out next, looking around with just as much wonder. "Well!" he said, stopping as he came up beside Barbara. "This is like something out of one of the magazines I used to read as a child - Astounding. I wonder where we are?"

"London", she replied confidently.

"How do you know that?"

Barbara pointed. Beyond a metal fence, between the spires of immensely tall, graceful buildings, the familiar form of Buckingham Palace sat. "You see? This is London, some time in our future."

Ian nodded, approvingly, as another vehicle flew across the gap between them and the palace. "I like what they've done with the place. I could have used a car like that on my way to Coal Hill in the mornings - It would certainly have helped me avoid the rush."

Barbara smiled and leaned against him, appreciating his sense of humour. Together they looked up at the skies of the bright tomorrow.


Bernie had heard enough. They weren't Bippies - heck, it didn't sound as if they were entirely sane - and there was a good chance he could turn this situation to his advantage. It was time to make his presence known.

"Mornin', Sir, Ma'am," he said, stepping out to face them. The two travellers started, then relaxed as they took in the short, harmless-looking lad addressing them in his oh-so-familiar Estuary accent. "My name's Bernard, but you can call me Bernie. Can I help you good folks in any way?"

Ian and Barbara were staring at the young man. He looked about 18 and wore the oddest clothes, made of some material that appeared to be a cross between plastic and cloth. As he moved, it reflected the light in all colours of the rainbow - a dazzling, if tasteless effect.

Barbara found her voice first. "Hello, Bernie. We've been travelling, and we're not sure quite where we are. If you could just help us find our bearings?"

Bernie nodded. "No probs. I could see from your togs you're not from around 'ere. Stick with me and I'll see you right."

The Doctor and Susan chose that moment to step out of the TARDIS; Bernie did a double-take. "Blimey!" he exclaimed. "'Ow many more you got hidin' in there?"

Ian laughed, but the Doctor looked put out. He demanded to know who he was talking to, and a complete round of introductions followed. Susan shook Bernie's hand enthusiastically. "It's so nice to meet someone friendly as soon as we leave the TARDIS, isn't it, Grandfather?"

The Doctor harrumphed, turned away, and made a point of locking the TARDIS door. I'm going to have to watch that one, thought Bernie. Still, he probably wouldn't have to stick around them for long. "Right," he said, "If you're all done checkin' your luggage, I'll show the way to the terminal."

"Terminal?" asked Ian. "Are we in an airport?"

Bernie looked at him as if he were mad. "Airport? This, my friends," - he spread his arms wide, twirling theatrically - "is London Spaceport."

* * *

Lieutenant Jack Cornes, British Interplanetary Police, put down the latest report and rubbed his eyes. All he'd had to deal with for the past week were minor infractions and missing luggage, lost children and the odd chancer trying to sneak a seat on one of the rockets heading for the colonies. Was this why he joined the BIP? To do this scutwork? He'd pictured himself really helping people, saving lives and solving crimes that mattered. The sort of case that he only seemed to get involved in a few times a year - and when he did, his superiors stepped in and took control. It was wearying.

There was a knock at the door, and his Sergeant entered.

"Sir? There's been another pickpocketing incident. Looks like we've got an active one, probably somebody nicking tickets to sell on the black market again."

Cornes sighed. "Thank you, Jones. I'm sure you're quite capable of dealing with it, though. I do have all this to get through." He waved his hand despairingly over the paper-strewn desk.

The Sergeant wasn't moving; Cornes could tell there was something more. "Out with it, Jones. What's bothering you?"

"It's the latest victim, sir. It's Colonel Strong."

Cornes' heart jumped. "Not Samuel Strong?"

"Yes, sir."

This was terrible. Colonel Sam Strong, hero of the spaceways, robbed. And on his watch. Just for a second Cornes paused, considering the possibilities; then he stood up and strode out from behind his desk. "Right, Sergeant," he said, "let's go catch us some bad guys."

* * *

The Doctor's party wandered through the crowded concourse of the spaceport. Bernie couldn't make them out. They seemed fascinated by the most ordinary things, like ignorant countryfolk on their first visit to the capital; but then Susan or the Doctor would spot one of the latest gizmos and comment on how 'quaint' or 'primitive' it was. Still, he didn't need to understand them. All that mattered was that they were heading in the right direction and none of the people they passed were sparing him a glance in the company of such wierdos. One of the basic camouflage techniques, and he'd stumbled into it by blind luck. Sometimes Saint Dismas really was smiling.

Now they'd stopped outside a cheap clothes shop. Susan was admiring the display.

"Barbara, just look at that outfit! Isn't it fab?" She turned to the Doctor. "Grandfather, can I try it on? Please?"

The old man didn't know what to say, humming and muttering while he tried to think of an excuse to forbid it. Barbara stepped in, taking the teenager by the arm and turning to face him. She smiled. "It's alright, Doctor, you don't have to come along. I'll look after Susan."

She was clever, that one, good at manipulating people. Well, thought Bernie, so am I - though at the moment I'm not having to make any of the running. When the Doctor hesitated the other man - Ian - stepped in, laughing. "Actually, I quite fancied a look in the bookshop over there. Why don't we leave the girls to it, Doctor, and meet up in half an hour at that coffee shop?"

The Doctor reacted as expected, taking the easy way out and going along with the others. "That seems acceptable," he said. "Susan - mind you don't make any trouble for Miss Wright!"

Susan nodded, meekly, then looked at their guide. "Bernie?"

The boy shook his head; he couldn't afford a half hour delay. Time to move on the next phase, and he had a great idea for how to go about it. "Sorry, Susan," he replied, "clothes shoppin's not my bag, and I got things to do. Still, great meeting you folks. Have a drink on me." He dropped a handful of coins into the girl's hand and gave her a quick hug; then, before the Doctor could object, embraced the old man too. The others were more prepared, but it didn't matter by that time. He shook Ian's hand, waved cheerily to Barbara, and sauntered off along the concourse.

"What a peculiar young man," commented the Doctor.

"Hmm," said Susan. She was gazing after Bernie wistfully.

* * *

"Pleasure to have you with us, Colonel Strong," said Cornes as they joined Jones outside the BIP office.

"It's the least I can do, Lieutenant," replied the hero. He was still a youngish man, maybe early forties, but he had a presence that both the BIP officers felt keenly. "I can't stay for long - don't want to miss me flight! - but if I spot the young blighter who robbed me I'll at least be able to identify him. He'll probably be in the check-in line for the rocket."

Sergeant Jones doubted it - he was sure the thief would have touted the ticket. He wished they had more stringent checks on identity for the flights, but since the rapid expansion of spaceflight in the second half of the Twentieth Century it had hardly seemed worth it to the Powers That Be. They should have asked the men on the ground who had to deal with the mess that created. Still, his superior was humouring the Colonel - and why not? Everyone loved Sam Strong, specially since the Mars Incident.

They strode through the spaceport, two men in blue uniforms and one in green, until they reached the check-in lounge for the Colonel's flight. He scanned the crowd carefully for a couple of minutes, but the lad he was looking for wasn't there. "Darn it!" he swore. "No sign of him."

"Well, thank you anyway, Colonel," said Cornes. "I'll stay while we explain the situation and get you on to the flight. Maybe he'll turn up; if not, we do have other methods of enquiry. Jones, you may as well get back to the office."

"Yes, sir." Huh, he thought. Of course Cornsie gets to spend time with Colonel Strong; privileges of rank, and all that.

He was ambling back feeling put-upon when his communicator went off. "Yeah, Sergeant Jones speaking?"

"Mike? Ellie here. We've had an anonymous tip-off about that ticket theft. Someone saw some old bloke in Barnfather's Books bragging to a younger man about how he'd got a boy to do it for him. They were both really oddly dressed, apparently; he said you wouldn't be able to miss them."

"Right! Thanks, Ellie. Buy you a drink after shift?"

"You know my husband wouldn't approve. I'll settle for a coffee from the shop to keep me awake 'til I get off."

"Deal. Thanks again. Mike out."

So. If he could nab them himself it would be a real feather in his cap. But two of them? Even if one was an old man that would be tricky. Better to get the Lieutenant.

At least that way Cornsie wouldn't be one-up on hero time.

* * *

Bernie watched the Bippie and the soldier-boy at the check-in desk. That was OK - if Strong got on board it made his next move easier. He just had to be patient. And careful; he was pretty sure Strong had made him when he took the ticket, so he'd better not be seen now.

Another Bippie came running up. Good, he thought, that'll be my distraction in action. He watched them talking for a minute, then all three of them ran off. Perfect.

Bernie waited a few more minutes then marched confidently up to the desk. "Sorry to bovver you," he said, "but Colonel Strong left in such a rush he forgot he needed another luggage tag. Can I get it for him?" He grinned winningly at the young woman behind the desk, who smiled back and handed him the electronic device. "Thanks, doll," said Bernie with a wink. "I'll see you around."

Easy as pie. Now to take a different route back to where he'd first met the Doctor and his friends.

* * *

"I don't know, Doctor," complained Ian, "when I came into this bookshop I did expect to find some actual books. Not just these things!" He waved a handful of thin plastic rectangles in the air.

"Now, now, Chesterton. One of those 'things', as you call them, contains just as much information as a shelf full of paper books. You have to learn to move with the times."

Ian laughed. "I do move with the times, Doctor - in your TARDIS."

The Doctor frowned. "It's probably a good thing you don't know how to use them anyway. What if you discovered something about your future, hm? What would you do then?"

"It depends what I found out. I wouldn't go and ask my older self for advice, if that's what worries you. But I doubt I'm ever going to appear in Who's Who, even if you do manage to get us home."

The Doctor ignored the dig. "It wouldn't have to be something about you directly. What if you found out about a future technology? Could you resist using that knowledge when you get back to the 1960s?"

Ian sighed. "Well, as you say, with these things I'm not going to get the chance, am I?"

A cough interrupted them. They both turned to see two policemen and a military chap watching them. "Can we help you?" asked the Doctor.

The senior policeman took the lead. "Sorry to trouble you but we've had a tip-off that you might be engaged in illegal activity. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

The Doctor bridled. "I assure you, sir, that I am no criminal, and I resent the implication." He raised his hands to his lapels, and Ian saw that they were in danger of being subjected to a long and indignant speech.

"Doctor," he said, "why don't we just cooperate with these officers? We've got nothing to hide, after all." The Doctor scowled at him, but subsided.

"Thank you, sir," said Cornes. "Now, with your permission, we can just use an electronic scanner and prove that you don't have the stolen item on your person. Is that okay with you?"

"Sure," replied Ian; the Doctor nodded, ungraciously. The junior officer stepped forward and ran a grey, handheld device up and down both sides of Ian's body and along his arms. It remained silent. Then he turned to the Doctor, who was grumpy and uncooperative. "Come on, Doctor," said Ian, "let's get this over with."

"Very well," replied the old man as he stuck his arms out and stood rigidly. Ian almost laughed; he looked like a scarecrow.

He didn't laugh when the machine started beeping. Cornes stepped forward. "Can you please keep your arms still while I check what set off the scanner, sir?" The Lieutenant reached into the Doctor's waistcoat pocket and pulled out a plastic card. "Can you explain what you are doing with" - he double-checked the name - "Samuel Strong's boarding ticket?"

The Doctor's frown had turned to an expression of disbelief. "I have never seen that in my life!"

Both the BIP officers were standing ready in case of trouble. "In that case," said Cornes, "I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to accompany us."

"I will not!" said the Doctor. "This is outrageous! How dare you impune my, my, honestly?"

Ian wasn't immediately sure what to do, but Cornes grabbed the Doctor, and when he responded by trying to shake the policeman off the other officer - Jones - touched him with something that put him out like a light. The soldier was already advancing on Ian, who threw the book rectangles into his face and fled.

"I'll get him!" shouted Cornes, and together with Colonel Strong he chased the fleeing teacher into the concourse, leaving Jones with the unconscious body of the Doctor.

* * *

Barbara sat at the clear plastic table, slowly sipping a coffee. Susan had finished her own drink - a thick, pink concoction something like a milkshake - and was talking enthusiastically about fashion. Barbara was only half listening. They had both enjoyed their visit to the clothes store, but she was starting to wonder where the boys had got to. She wasn't exactly worried, not yet, but she kept a weather eye on the crowds flowing past - and particularly on the doors of the bookshop.

A couple of figures caught her eye, a policeman and a military officer. Both were breathing hard. "Slippery blighter," said the green-clad soldier. His companion nodded.

"Not to worry, Colonel. At least we know what he looks like now, and we have his boss in custody. We'll get him - I'll make sure of that."

The Colonel glanced up at a clock hanging from the ceiling, looking for all the world like one of the station clocks from Barbara's own time. "Time I was off, Lieutenant - me flight's boarding, and after all this kerfuffle I intend to be on it."

"Thank you, Colonel Strong; it's been a privilege. Are you going to be spending much time in the colonies?"

"Don't know yet - it depends what I find. Good luck with the rat-catching."

They shook hands and walked off, but something about the conversation worried Barbara. She turned to her companion.

"Susan, I'm just going into the bookshop to see if I can find the others. Will you wait here in case they come out before I get back?"

Susan looked perturbed. "Of course, Miss Wright. Is something the matter?"

Barbara hesitated. "I'm not sure - it's just a feeling I have. It's probably nothing, but..."

Susan put a hand on her old teacher's arm. "I understand. You need to make sure." They smiled at each other, and Barbara headed off.


Thirty-seven and one half minutes. That was how long it had been since they last saw Grandfather and Mr. Chesterton. Not enough time to start worrying, given their predilection for delay, but Barbara's feelings were often accurate. She was a fine observer, thought Susan, but couldn't always consciously access the information she gathered, relying instead on subconscious prompts. As a technique it had the advantage that it wouldn't be distracted by other incoming signals, but it was also frustratingly vague. Susan enjoyed experimenting with it, but generally preferred logical reasoning as a problem-solving method.

She considered Bernie, aware that logic had little to do with those particular thoughts. He was certainly a handsome young man, friendly, and amusing - but there was also something slightly 'off' about his presentation. She focused, blocking out external stimuli while trying to trace the thread...

"Hey, Susan!"

She started, opened her eyes. There was Bernie himself, standing right in front of her, breathless and worried. "Bernie! What's wrong?"

"Look, sorry to rush ya, but I ran into the Doctor and he asked me to come get you - urgent, like."

"Really?" Susan looked around, gathering her thoughts. "I'll fetch Barbara straight away."

"No!" Bernie saw her reaction, and backtracked. "I mean, there's no time. That's why he sent me rather than comin' himself: he needs you back at the, what was it? The TARDIS. Right away." He considered a moment. "We could leave a quick note?"

Something definitely feels wrong about this, thought Susan, but I can't take a chance on not being there for Grandfather when I'm needed. "OK," she said, and wrote on a paper napkin:

Gone to TARDIS. Meet me there. S.

* * *

Bernie led Susan back to her blue box at a run. Everything had been going perfectly, and then he'd hit this last-minute hitch. So pathetic, not being able to make some stupid doors stay shut! But he was afraid. All those controls, in that impossible space - what if he hit the wrong thing? Anything could happen. He needed someone who knew what they were doing - someone malleable. The girl.

They were nearly there, now, but he could see the robots were already at work. "Come on!" he yelled, and put on a burst of speed. Susan almost fell, but he tugged her arm and together they burst into the huge white room within the man-sized blue box. "Shut the doors!" he shouted, and almost through instinct the girl operated a lever. With a hum the double doors swung to - and Bernie let go his breath. He'd made it!

"Where's Grandfather?" The tone in her voice was suspicious, but it didn't matter now.

"He's around. Somewhere."

Susan rounded on him. "You're lying - there's no point pretending, I can tell. What have you done with him?"

Bernie smiled. He was safe now; it didn't matter what she thought any more. "Okay, you got me. But I've not done nothing to your Granddad. He's safe as houses, him and Chesterton. They're probably sittin' comfortably in a police cell while they help 'em with some enquiries."

Her frown darkened. "Then how did you get into the ship?"

Bernie waved the key. "Half-inched this when I was givin' him a farewell hug, didn't I? Easy."

Susan looked confused. "But you still couldn't have opened the door! The TARDIS lock should have... unless the biometric seal's been disabled, I suppose...?"

Yep, definitely crazy, thought Bernie. A crazy girl in a crazy place. Except for being stuck with her now, this was the perfect set-up. Plenty of room, and nobody would come looking for him here.

So, what to do about the surplus teenager? She was making her way back from planet dream, probably thinking about jumping him if she had any sense. Yep, there she was, quietly picking up some sort of tool and hiding it behind her back. Bernie pretended he hadn't noticed.

"Okay, Bernard, what are you planning to do next?" She was manoeuvring now, getting into position to whack him. That was fine; he was ready.

"Do? I've had enough of doin'. I'm just goin' to sit around here, wait a while. For the next three weeks, as a matter of fact."

"Why three weeks?" She seemed genuinely interested; half her attention was on what he was saying. Definitely not one of nature's natural streetfighters.

"Oh, that would be tellin'. You'll see soon enough, I expect. In fact, I... woah!" The whole room shifted sideways. At the same time, faster than he would have expected, she swung at him. Sneaky. No time to grab her weapon, so he flung up an arm to protect himself and felt the pain as the metal made contact - nothing broken, probably, but that was going to leave a mighty bruise. He turned his stagger into a sweep, and knocked Susan's legs out from under her; she hit her head on the edge of the console as she went down, and lay still.

* * *

Ian saw Barbara as she left the main building, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. He sidled around the corner of the vehicle he was using for cover and hissed at her.

"Barbara!"

She turned, and rushed over to him. "Oh, Ian, I was getting worried. Where's the Doctor?"

"Arrested by the police," he whispered. "They're after me, too - we were framed for a robbery, and they weren't in the mood to talk."

She looked shocked. "So that's what those two men were talking about - I did wonder if it was connected, somehow. Is that why you took Susan back to the TARDIS?"

"What? I haven't seen her. What made you think that?" She held out the napkin; he read the message Susan had written. "We'd better get after her, Barbara. Can you take point and tell me if there are any police or soldiers around?"

"I'll do my best."

Barbara set the pace, leading the way from cover to cover, watching carefully and signalling Ian when it was safe for him to cross. Five minutes later they were in the area where the TARDIS had landed. The place was much emptier now, the stacks of packing cases noticeable by their absence. The ship was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is it? Ian, what's happened to the TARDIS?"

"I don't know." He looked around, and spotted a workman in orange overalls sweeping. "Excuse me, but do you know anything about the blue box that was standing here?"

The workman looked up. "The one with the light on the top? I remember that one. For Queen of the Sky, wasn't it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, I remember now. It definitely had a green tag. It'll be on the Queen alright."

Barbara stepped forward. "Do you mean that it's been loaded onto a ship?"

The workman rolled his eyes. "Well, duh! This is a loading bay."

Ian and Barbara exchanged a glance. "And where can we find this Queen of the Skies now?"

The workman laughed, once. "I dunno. Look up? It left for the Jovian colonies twenty minutes ago.

"Right now, your box is on its way to Jupiter."

Next Time:
Strange Worlds

Episode 45.5 (J4): The Urge to Live

Back when I reviewed the episodes that make up serial J (Planet of Giants), the DVD hadn't been released. I told the story of how it had been cut down from four stories to three after filming was already complete by editing the last two episodes together; lo and behold, they've now got as close to reversing this process as possible without the original film (or indeed many of the actors). So, although I've used the only episode title not previously mentioned, this is actually a review of two other things as well: the recon of the original Crisis and the other DVD features.

Let's start with the piece about the making of the reconstruction (an extra about an extra!). In Rediscovering the Urge to Live, documentary producer Ed Stradling and Whovian actor Toby Hadoke observe that the entire guest cast, half the regulars, the director, the producer and the writer are all dead, while neither William Russell nor Carole Ann Ford could remember much about the production. This meant that the standard "talking heads" documentary was a bit of a non-starter, so given the unique circumstances of this serial they turned to Ian Levine to direct a recon instead.

Levine is a controversial figure in fandom. He is abrasive, opinionated, and utterly dedicated to the show (he was one of the people who helped to stop the junking of old episodes, and acted as an advisor to the production team during the 1980s). He is also very well off, and has funded the production of a number of reconstructions of missing or unmade stories as personal projects. His completion of Shada, mixing animation with original footage and involving members of the original cast, almost made it onto the official DVD. It was well received by many who saw it (though not all) and if it had been included I would have been more keen to buy the set. So, basically, he had 'form'.

The first thing was to record the missing dialogue, which involved casting. Thanks to Big Finish and the Target readings Russell and Ford had practise recreating their old parts, but six others had to be recast. The results vary; none of them are bad, but the standout is definitely John Guilor, who turns in a superb take on William Hartnell's end-of-first-recording-block Doctor. Thanks in part to advice from Russell and Ford, his performance sounds more like natural acting than impersonation, too.

Next came the recreation of the visuals. There is no perfect method and this time Levine decided to use mainly existing footage, along with a few CGI inserts and unidentifiable modern shots (such as hands). The results are slightly jarring and in some cases highly repetitive, but given the number of cuts in the combined episode any other method (for example, mixing in animation à la Shada) would almost certainly have been worse. A great deal of care was taken over the selection of shots to reuse - I was impressed with how often he managed to get speech to roughly match mouth movement, for example.

The sound quality on the recons is quite poor. I assume that Levine only had access to copies of the broadcast third episode from before the Restoration Team had finished their work, and roughened up the newly-recorded voices to match. For whatever reason, my son and I had to turn the volume up quite high to hear what was going on (neither of us have great hearing). We came away wishing the RT had done their work on the recons too!

I didn't rewatch the first two episodes before tackling the recons, but I did listen to the commentary on all three episodes afterwards (and was glad to note they made the connection with the same two programs about shrinking that I brought up). For reasons discussed above it was a fairly self-selecting team of commentators - basically a production team survivors commentary (minus the not-then-late Ray Cusick). Planet of Giants is probably not the release I would have chosen to gather these particular people - there were no new Radiophonic Workshop sounds and only simple makeup, so Brian Hodgson and Sonia Markham in particular were only able to talk generally when discussing their contributions - but it isn't a type of commentary we've had before in this marathon, and that uniqueness kept it interesting. I found it useful for learning more about 1960s TV production (including a little about the role of Assistant Floor Managers like David Tilley); in this way, it served a similar function to Doctor Who Confidential. Hearing about Mervyn Pinfield's membership of the '59 group and the "Developing Camera" technique made me a little more sympathetic to what he was trying to do, though I still prefer Douglas Camfield's cuts and closeups to Pinfield's more theatre-like style (and it sounds as if it was more fun for vision mixer Clive Doig too). Mark Ayres - another production type, though from a different era - kept the discussion flowing well.

And that's it for substantial extras. There are a couple of mildly interesting interviews (with Carole Ann Ford and Verity Lambert), some prop design plans (which I haven't seen because I keep forgetting to bring the DVD to the computer), plus the usual suspects - photo gallery, coming soon, etc.

On to the script of the reconstructed episodes, then; and what I chiefly discovered was that the bulk of the main plot had survived the cuts but with a lot of the detail being lost. Smithers' journey from ally to enemy works much better here, with the cat's story probably the biggest loss of all. The telephone exchange scenes feel richer with more time spent on them, and conversations in general flow better. All this is at the cost of stretching things out quite a bit, though; so which version is better? Without the original footage it's impossible to compare fairly, but even though the broadcast version was a bit rushed I think Donald Wilson's decision was a good one. Count me as a supporter of three episodes.

It's a darn good DVD, though, and I am really happy to be able to make up my own mind!

Ratings:
Reconstructed Crisis: 3.5/10.
Reconstructed the Urge to Live: 6/10.
Four-episode version of serial J: 5/10.

Next Time:
The Dark Pilgrim.

CC7.07 The Flames of Cadiz

I chose this story to tackle after the intensely-SF Masters of Luxor because I fancied something different - though since I managed to avoid spoilers I didn't know whether it was going to be a "pure" historical or not. (Once I'd heard The Morisco, I'd have been very surprised if it were otherwise.) Looking at my list of timeslips, they are actually mostly set in the past so it's the SF entries I'll have to space out for variety! Perhaps I shouldn't have started where I did, but never mind.

I'm not keen on the cover of this one. The orange flames separating the (blue-tinted) monochrome close-up on Ian and Susan from the ships on the sea sounds like it should work, but in execution it just looks like a hodge-podge. Normally I barely look at the covers of stories I only have on download, but I was listening to part of this on a different computer to my usual and Media Player was set up to display a large image when playing. Perhaps other covers have similar problems, and I've just not noticed.

There are no interviews at the end of this story - which is a shame, because I wanted to know a little about what Marc Platt was thinking when writing it - but we do get some music, and I realise I haven't mentioned that at all so far in these reviews. It's not really appropriate to the Hartnell era, but it fits very well with the setting. I didn't notice it much during my initial listening, which is actually a good sign - it's supposed to provide atmosphere rather than dominate.

This was a good story, and the fact that I only rated it a 6.5 was something of a surprise. It reminded me of something I've noticed before, that when I start reading/watching/listening to stories in a particular medium my scores range widely; but as my experience grows new ones tend to be rated closer to the middle. Basically, so long as they are of reasonable quality, it takes more to impress me - or to throw me off. This happened a while ago for TV and audio, and is just starting to happen for books as well (I've currently ranked 86 of them).

Next I'll take a brief break from audio - I do like variety in my media! - and return to TV for a recon, of an unusual sort...

Published:
Date: January 2013
ISBN: 1-78178-061-9

Rating:
6.5/10.

Next Time:
The Urge to Live?

CC7.07d The Queen's Pirate

Before I start on the final episode of The Flames of Cadiz, it's confession time: readers, I have sinned. I was so into the story last episode that I didn't notice when it finished and listened to this one straight afterwards, finishing The Flames of Cadiz in one dog walk. In my last post I tried to write what I would have written had I not done this - the Don Quixote paragraph, in particular, changes in hindsight - but I may not have succeeded entirely.

Also, since writing my last review we've had the 50th Anniversary, and for the first time I've skived off the blog while still being thoroughly immersed in Doctor Who. On audio I've heard The Light at the End (Friday), The Beginning (Saturday/Sunday), and various radio broadcasts (though I didn't get to all of the ones I wanted before the iPlayer period ran out). On TV there's been almost as much, and we still have loads waiting on the PVR. Heck, we haven't even got to Mark Gatiss' docudrama yet, and we all really want to see that! It's been a surprisingly good celebration in my opinion. The one black cloud was the collapse of AudioGo, with the consequent loss of jobs and the missing Unearthly Child Target reading. As a result of all this the only bit of Who writing I've done is the intro for a run of reviews set before that story, but I'll be doing a few more set in this period first.

Right, enough of that, on to the episode. This one feels compressed, as if Marc Platt were adapting a six-part script and reducing it to four episodes. A lot happens, and there is a lack of padding that takes away slightly from the period feel but adds to the drama. The sound is particularly good, adding a lot of atmosphere to the various shipboard scenes.

This is Ian's story; the other main characters are effectively marking time while he has an adventure. Oh, they get threatened and have a few situations to deal with (and Carole Ann Ford is once again on very good form for these scenes), but it is Ian who holds our attention. William Russell really sells the emotional journey our hero goes through as he is first blocked from meeting his hero, then finds a way to do so but discovers that things are not as he imagined, then finds himself having to work together with a man he no longer worships. I do think he is starting to sound old, though. The artistry is still there and he still has a lovely voice, but it is a little less steady.

As a concluding episode this is fine stuff. Totally beyond the capabilities of the BBC to film at the time, of course, but by golly they would have tried it anyway! The burning of Cadiz, the sinking of the ships - I'm sure David Whitaker would have left them in, and the designers would have done their darnedest to pull something out of the bag. My imagination left that behind, though, and the black-and-white images I had in my head are more like the memories that an adult, slightly older than me, might have had of the experience of watching the serial as a child.

Given the vibe that Platt was so obviously going for, that's high praise.

Rating:
6.5/10.

Next Time:
Companion Chronicle 7.07, The Flames of Cadiz, as a whole.

CC7.07c The Doleful Knight

More spoilers for the third episode of The Flames of Cadiz below than in the previous two reviews. You have been warned.

Let me start by saying I am very glad that Susan's smoke bombs save the day after last time, though everybody is too busy to acknowledge her contribution. The visuals here are brilliant, from the Auto da Fe at the beginning to the Doctor tilting at windmills at the end. I imagined all of it in glorious monochrome, and with appropriate sets for the TV show and stock footage for the ship at sea - although I suspect the budget wouldn't have coped with the large number of extras required, and the open road scenes would have been less persuasive than my version.

Speaking of tilting at windmills, I thought of Don Quixote as soon as I heard Sancho's name, and this visual image at the end confirmed that it was a deliberate reference. I've never read Cervantes' epic; it's on our bookshelves but its length has always daunted me. However, I have picked up a few of the more prominent details from other sources, such as Asterix in Spain. There may well be further references in there, but if so my limited knowledge prevents me detecting them.

Like Mark Gatiss' third Doctor novel, Last of the Gaderene, the story so far has been perfectly of its era. There are a number of ways to tackle stories set in the past of the show. You can add a modern sensibility, as Tara Samms did in Frayed; you can crash it with another genre, as Christopher Bulis did in The Sorceror's Apprentice; you can write a traditional story and then subvert it, as Gareth Roberts did in The Plotters. Or you can simply write something that feels as if it belongs, as if it could have been made at the time. Some people look down on this, perhaps feeling that if you're not going to say something different you shouldn't bother; but I'm in it for the entertainment, and it gives me a kind of nostalgic thrill. I say "kind of" since I have come to this era relatively recently, but it seems to make no real difference to the feeling.

I have been trying to figure out what Marc Platt has been doing to make this so resonant of its time. There are several classic plot elements, of course; but it wasn't until Ian decided to go seek his hero despite being a wanted man - an incredibly reckless act, but one that prolongs the adventure (something that every member of the original crew did in the first season in some way or other) - that I realised a key point. This is written as a serial. The overall shape is given less consideration than making each episode feel right. This is Saturday night entertainment, 1964-style, albeit produced with 2013 production values and on audio. And that realisation boosts my enjoyment despite the episode having a slightly odd shape, like the tail end of one adventure and the beginning of the next.

Rating:
6/10.

Next Time:
The Queen's Pirate.

CC7.07b The Justice of God

Oddly, the second episode of The Flames of Cadiz works better for me because William Russell and Carole Ann Ford are just reading, not interacting. It allows me to focus on the story rather than getting distracted while I wonder how an older Ian and Susan are discussing this adventure in the first place, so this is a case of simpler being better.

And speaking of Russell and Ford, both give excellent performances, as a result of which I mostly forget there's only one other actor present. Ford takes the crown this time around with some splendid, varied voices: Susan, Barbara and the Doctor are all distinct enough that I never have any doubt which is speaking, and the "guest cast" - King Philip, his secretary, the actor and the family sheltering the travellers - all have their own tones and mannerisms. Just great.

The third voice is Nabil Elouahabi, playing the Morisco who gave the first episode it's title. I recently relistened to Bloodtide, where the Spanish accents are a slight hindrance to my enjoyment; but Elouahabi's Moorish/Spanish accent - while still strong - is somehow easier to listen to, more natural. I looked him up and his nationality is British Moroccan, so either it is his own or his family's. Big Finish have quite a good record on hiring appropriate artists for main parts (with the occasional Minuet in Hell to counterbalance), and while he doesn't have a lot to say this time his presence does enhance Ian's captivity.

On to the writing, then, and this is again very much of the era. There are references to past travels - the Boxer Rebellion in China, and the venerable Bede. We visited Bede's World while we were on holiday in the summer - it's not far from the Roman fort of Arbeia, so we combined the two into a first millennium day out, which was a lot of fun. But I digress. This episode also has the kind of action that keeps the main cast moving between different situations, and one traditional feature that I'm not so keen on: Susan is kind of useless.

This is one area where The Masters of Luxor was a pleasant surprise, so it's a bit of a shock to find that - in the only scene where she isn't just tagging along behind her grandfather - Susan panics and forgets the vital mission she's been given. Still, it's done quite awarely, so there's some hope that Marc Platt will subvert it in a later episode. We'll see. He does also take the sting out of it a bit by having the Doctor's plans fail, too, quite spectacularly.

Speaking of dear Cardinal Dottore (a Patrick Troughton style moniker, I feel, and notable for the fact that it's Italian for an academic Doctor rather than a medico): the scene between him and the king would have been played for laughs if William Hartnell had got his hands on it, but is a little dry as reported by Susan. Neither Ford not Platt's fault, exactly; it's just that describing something funny isn't generally itself funny. This is where I miss the original cast, at their original ages.

Ian has less of the focus this time around - you usually get someone languishing somewhere with a crowded TARDIS! - but when we do see him it's good. This is of an era before Monty Python, so the Spanish Inquisition is treated seriously. I was interested in where the play draws the line in terms of real horror. Whipping is okay - and seeing victims in a bad way after being tortured - but not torturing itself. Probably similar to a 1960s production, though the Hartnells are surprisingly graphic.

Rating:
6/10.

Next Time:
The Doleful Knight.

Happy 50th!

Well, I should probably post the next episode review of The Flames of Cadiz, but I'm not going to. I'm a bit busy, and it seems somehow...inconsequential? I listened to The Light at the End yesterday, have heard the first episode of The Beginning today (and intend to catch the second episode tomorrow). And I'll probably watch something tonight.

Whatever you're doing, have fun - and here's to the next 50!

CC7.07a The Morisco

Well, here I am at the first episode of The Flames of Cadiz, a Companion Chronicle released at the beginning of the year. I've mostly avoided listening to the first Doctor's CCs, but if my marathon continues onto the second Doctor I'll have far fewer stories to review fresh since I have been devouring those at a frightening rate. It's currently my favourite audio range, partly because there has been more experimentation than we've heard elsewhere.

So it's a little disappointing to find that the format for this adventure is basically that of an enhanced audiobook. I observed in my review of The Cannibal Flower that it was much better to have a natural division of voices: when you have both William Russell and Carole Ann Ford, let each of them do what they are best at! Here we are back to Russell attempting Barbara's speech, and Ford the Doctor's. There is also no framing device beyond generic, timeless reminiscing - and the way Ian and Susan are discussing the story has them mentioning things that nobody would bother to say in a real conversation. So, apart from the multiple first person perspectives, right from the start it sounds like two decent performers reading a Target novelisation - Doctor Who and the Spaniards, perhaps? Quite offputting, after hearing a run of CCs which are much closer to drama.

Another thing that threw me off was the idea of Ian growing up in North-East England, somewhere near Sunderland. He's not an actor, so why would he end up with an RP accent (which is basically middle-to-upper class South-East)? It also conflicts with other stories I've either heard or read, which have him playing in the bombsites of London. Unless I've misremembered the London part, seeing as Northern cities were hit as well during the Second World War.

So, not a particularly good start - but then the mention of Barbara going on holiday to Spain in 1962 hit a nostalgia chord, putting me into a more receptive mood again. We never had foreign holidays when I was a child, but I remember my mum telling me that once - before I was born, but when she was an adult - she took her mother to Spain, which was a once-in-a-lifetime treat to do something that my grandmother had always wanted. The trip as a whole was a great success, but the aircraft was unpressurised and mum had an awful flight as she discovered that one ear - which had been damaged when she was too close to an exploding bomb during the war - couldn't adjust to the pressure difference. (We used to joke that the only difference between her ears was the letter 'S' - one was tone deaf, the other stone deaf.) A little piece of family history I haven't thought much about for years.

And after that we are into the actual story, which fits rather beautifully into this era of the show, reminding me of a cross between The Reign of Terror and The Crusades. It's full of little details alongside spectacle, and with enough of a history lesson to satisfy the show's original brief. It's also a rollicking, action-packed adventure, in contrast to any episode of The Masters of Luxor. Though there are some similarities, too - primarily the focus on the Catholic/Protestant conflict, albeit on the people this time rather than the theology.

And, yes, of course we get the Inquisition. All the iconography is there - torture implements and cells, priests trying to trick sinners into confession - as it would have been on TV in 1964. But there's also a comment about how our historical view of it has been set in stone, which resonated with an article I was reading in the Radio Times by Jeremy Paxman on that very subject. I am writing this on Remembrance Sunday; he was talking about the hundredth anniversary of the First World War, a catastrophe that has been so "overlain with myth and legend" that we can no longer get at the truth. History is what gets written down; what actually happened is just living.

Which is why the comment about Ian's watch working but still being useless is so poignant. We would need a time machine to truly understand the past, but we can remember those who worked to make the future better (in all sorts of ways), and strive to build on their legacy. One day we will be part of that hidden past; the best we can hope for is that history will think well of us.

Rating:
It's hard to rate this. The story was excellent, both in terms of fitting with the period and as an exciting adventure, and I have no complaint about the performances, but the structure irritated me. As a result, I'll give it a compromise mark.

5/10.

Next Time:
The Justice of God.

Where am I Going? I Don't Know!

A recent comment by one reader prompted me to think about where I am going with this, and whether it's time to repaint the wagon.

Basically, the problem was that he couldn't always tell from the outset which story I was reviewing, so he suggested including the name of the story in the title of the post, and in the "next time" slot at the end. I thought about it: it made sense, particularly with the non-televised stories whose episode titles are sometimes pretty obscure (or even invented by me, as will probably happen next when I review Frostfire). But I didn't want to do it. I did eventually come up with a solution to the request that satisfied both of us - I would mention the story title in the first sentence of each episode review - but the act of pinning down why I didn't want to go along with his offered solution reminded me of some original intentions I had regarding the blog.

One thing that I may not have ever made clear is that this isn't (primarily) a story review blog. I was prompted to start it when I read a piece on Elizabeth Sandifer's TARDIS Eruditorum about how we consume Doctor Who in the 21st Century, as opposed to how it was seen in the 1960s. Back then it was a serialised show, designed to be watched one episode a week and to provide family entertainment for 25 minutes each Saturday throughout most of the year. It wasn't a bunch of made-for-TV movies split into 25-minute chunks, which we can now watch on DVD in all their long-form glory. Sitting down for almost three hours to watch The Daleks doesn't give the right impression at all.

So, I started my marathon explicitly to experience the show as a series of episodes. And that's why I do so many episode reviews: this is (primarily) an episode review blog. The "Next Time" bit at the end is intended as a caption card, rather than being particularly informative for readers.

I'd forgotten that. I was becoming concerned that there wasn't enough meat in the serial reviews at the end of each run of episode reviews - more importantly, I'd started writing episode reviews merely out of habit. And I would spice up my "Next Time" sections to make them more fun, more chatty, or more teasing. But in doing all this I was slipping away from what makes this blog unusual. The fanfic, the "serial # as a whole" reviews, the "what was I thinking?" posts like this, all have their place; but they are subsidiary to the main point of the exercise, which is the episode reviews.

It's aimed at a very niche audience. I could probably attract a lot more readers if I did turn it into a story review blog, but there are plenty of good ones out there already (Doc Oho's, for example), and if I was trying to compete with them I'd give up. Let me focus on my tiny pond instead. That way there's a chance I'll still be doing my marathon in a year's time.

Where am I headed? I ain't certain. Just like the viewers of the 1960s. All I know is I am on my way.

Next Time:
The Morisco.

The Lost Stories 3.7: The Masters of Luxor

I've just realised that this is quite possibly my last Hartnell six-parter. Certainly there are no more on TV - all the rest are four-parters, except for the season 3 epic (which breaks down nicely into smaller chunks anyway) - so it all depends on whether the last Hartnell Lost Story from Big Finish, The Dark Planet, is four or six parts.

I won't miss them. Two to four parts works well with my reviewing pattern, but any longer and it all feels too drawn out. I sometimes run out of things to say, especially if there are no visuals for me to comment on (acting, sets, direction). As a reviewer, discoveries like the recent Enemy of the World/Web of Fear haul make me breathe a sigh of relief.

Basically, the second half of this has been a bit of a slog. Not to listen to - even my least-loved audios keep me entertained, and this is far from the worst - but to write up. That's why you get quite so many digressions, like the discussion of cliffhangers or authority in my parenting.

I'm glad it was produced - and that Susan got a decent part to play - but I suspect it's not going to be one of the ones I relisten to a lot.

A Confused Chronology, part 11: That Was Then, This Is When?
I was pleased that my decision to set The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance (FYAoF) before Farewell, Great Macedon (FGM) was confirmed here, when - at the time - just about everyone seemed to have them in the order they appeared on the CDs. These three definitely form their own little run. But where should that run be set?

As I mentioned before, Susan doubting the reality of the food in The Cannibal Flower makes me think they should definitely come after The Keys of Marinus; Susan's presence puts them before The Dalek Invasion of Earth. In that stretch there are three not-completely-tortuous gaps: two slightly dodgy ones just before and after The Aztecs (which is connected to the adjacent stories only by TARDIS arrival/departure scenes) and a third between seasons that should be regarded as dodgy but has been blown wide open by previous Expanded Universe stories.

I think the overall tone implies as early a placement as possible. On the other hand, if they come before The Aztecs, the interference with history in FGM would (in my opinion) make a nonsense of the wonderful interaction between the Doctor and Barbara/Yetaxa; whereas it works the other way round. Ian's feelings for Barbara in FYAoF seem rather developed for an early placement; but then they were always a bit variable, and maybe the amount of downtime they had on Fragrance allowed them to bubble to the surface, only for later action to push them back down again. Similarly, perhaps that downtime - if it came straight after The Aztecs - allowed Barbara to recover from her experiences in Mexico.

On balance, then, I think that (for me) the best placement is immediately post-Aztecs. It's not ideal - and it means on Gallifrey Base I've been reviewing them in the wrong thread! - but it'll do.

Published:
Date: August 2012
ISBN: 1-84435-589-6

Rating:
3/10.

Next Time:
A brief diversion, before I start in on The Flames of Cadiz.

The Lost Stories 3.7, episode 6: The Flower Blooms

There - I've made it through the final episode of The Masters of Luxor! And it isn't bad, really - certainly better than the previous two, and with a decent cliffhanger resolution; though it's still a little slow, even for the early days of the show.

One thing I really like about it is that, yet again, Susan is being proactive and effective. This time she does something physical to rescue Ian, adding to the wide variety of positive roles this serial has given her. To be honest I can't imagine something like this making it through script editing, just because of how consistently dreadful the scripts were for Susan in the stories that did make it to screen. The Masters of Luxor has now supplanted The Sensorites as the best story for showcasing the unearthly child, in my mind, although once again it's not one of my favourites overall.

Something I didn't enjoy in this episode is the handling of the (surviving) religious theme. The Doctor telling the Perfect One to abase himself before his creator doesn't fit with my idea of his character, and leaves a nasty taste in the mouth anyway. I know it's meant to be him talking his way out of an awkward situation, but it doesn't sound like that. Either it's close to blasphemous (setting Tabon up as a God-analogue) or it's supporting the worst kind of authoritarianism in organised religion. I'm a parent, and I would never ask my children to bow down before me. On the contrary, Alison and I have always encouraged them to think for themselves. Even when they were young, when they disagreed with what we were saying we would take the time to find out why - and sometimes they would come up with better ideas than we'd had. We retained the ultimate decision-making authority - and many times our greater experience meant we had more context to figure things out better - but that dialogue meant we could all learn from each other.

Dialogue in the broader sense is at the heart of this episode, though much of the time it feels like everyone is shouting their opinion and nobody is listening. (We've occasionally had that in our family too, of course.) It's good that the resolution doesn't come down to physical force, but by golly it's a talky episode!

The bit at the end where the image on the scanner recedes as the TARDIS dematerialises is an interesting artifact of these lost stories. I presume it was dropped either because it was hard to do for TV, or because there were better ways of handling endings. I am torn between thinking it is effective, and feeling that it doesn't really make sense from a time-and-space-travel perspective.

Rocky Roads (The Robots), part 4: Performed at Last!
This isn't the first time the story has been made. In 2001 it was produced as a four part fan adaptation, according to the TARDIS Data Core; still, it's the Big Finish version that most people will know.

And I can't be bothered to type any more.

Rating:
4/10.

Next Time:
The Masters of Luxor as a whole.

The Lost Stories 3.7, episode 5: An Infinity of Surprises

Hm. Well, the cliffhanger to the previous episode of The Masters of Luxor resolved as I expected, and unfortunately that put me in a less than charitable mood. There's only been one decent cliffhanger in the whole story so far, and that was the one with no immediate peril. I know the early stories were very slow-paced, but this is getting a bit ridiculous! The only thing that happens that advances the plot in this episode is that we move Ian from one room (the one where the Doctor spends the entire episode doing virtually nothing) to another (the torture chamber). Meanwhile Susan and Barbara move back there from the room where they were locked last time.

Actually, other than a lot of discussion and finding Tabon, we are pretty much where we were two episodes ago - which can be fine, but there hasn't even been a proper escape-recapture cycle! Ian isn't recaptured - he basically gives himself up - while Susan and Barbara never escaped. If this were a modern episode you could cut straight from the Perfect One saying that one of the travellers had to give up their life, two cliffhangers ago, to the scene at the end here with Ian being tortured.

I'm underselling this story a little, I know, but then I did say I was not in a charitable mood. Ian's "man of action" sequences spice it up a bit - I liked the scene where he tricks a robot into falling down the stairs, and his confrontation with the Perfect One simmers with suppressed anger as he tries to outwit his enemy. But that's about it for sparkle. I'm not the world's biggest fan of The Daleks - it's a bit of a mess in places, both in terms of script and of direction - but I'm really glad it was the serial B that was actually produced, rather than this.

One thing that makes me a little sad is how much older Carole Ann Ford and (particularly) William Russell sound here than they did in Farewell, Great Macedon, even though there's less than two years between the releases. In some scenes, Russell seems to have more difficulty with his Ian voice than the Doctor's - which makes sense, given that he was born in 1924. Perhaps they were less inspired by the material but I was reminded that they are not going to be producing new audios forever, no matter how much they might want to. Still, even if they stopped tomorrow, I would be grateful for the extra adventures we've had with them in the last five years.

I haven't said anything yet about the third voice in these audios, so let's talk a little about Joe Kloska. I didn't recognise his name and he doesn't have a Wikipedia page so I looked him up on IMDB: he's not done a lot of TV or films, and I haven't seen anything he's been in. Presumably he's mostly done radio and/or theatre. When I first heard his derivitron voice I wasn't entirely sure about it - it wasn't what I expected - but I quickly adjusted. As pointed out in the disk 2 extras, having the same person play all the guest parts actually works well here because the robots are all based on Tabon, and Kloska provides enough variety (aided by a little voice processing) to give us a sense of who is who while maintaining the family connection.

Rocky Roads (The Robots), part 3: The Lost Script
For more than a quarter of a century, little was known generally about the story. That changed when Titan Books decided to start releasing script books of old serials, and contacted Anthony Coburn's widow about the script for The Tribe of Gum. She found the Masters of Luxor script and it was released in book form in August 1992.

Rating:
3/10.

Next Time:
The Flower Blooms.

The Lost Stories 3.7, episode 4: Tabon of Luxor

Well, finally we get to meet one of the real Masters of Luxor - and it's a bit of a disappointment, to be honest. For one thing, there's too much exposition; and the Doctor and Ian's reactions to Tabon swing too quickly. I don't think William Russell was quite up to his usual form distinguishing the two voices, either, and I occasionally had to do a double-take as I readjusted my idea of which character was speaking. I wish they'd got Peter Purves in to play the Doctor opposite Russell's Ian, but that opens up the whole recasting issue, which I don't want to go into here!

Carole Ann Ford fares better, both in terms of plot and performance. Susan gets to be smart once again, spotting the hidden camera and dealing with it intelligently; and she and Barbara get all the action that can be portrayed effectively on audio (climbing never seems to work). Of course, they also get the cop-out peril of being put in the life-drainer and it then not working on them (well, so far as the Perfect One is concerned it's never worked, but you know what I mean - it doesn't drain their lives); but at least it wasn't made into a cliffhanger.

Speaking of which, we have another of those all-too-easy-to-predict cliffhangers at the end of this episode. For me, there are (I think) two effective types of cliffhanger:

1. Ooh, How Will They Get Out of That? This puts people in peril, and we get a week of wondering what's going to happen next. For me not to be disappointed there must be some action that is taken to avert the crisis. Resolutions like "the apple wasn't poisoned after all", or "it was just a tremor, the volcano isn't actually erupting" are no good. If the life-drainer situation above had been a cliffhanger it would have failed in the same way.
2. Ooh, That's a Twist! Something new is introduced, and we get a week of speculating about it. It doesn't have to imperil anyone, it just needs to be intriguing; but it has to prove to be genuinely interesting next time.

Of course, some combine the two. The first glimpse of a Dalek plunger works brilliantly because we are left wondering both what the heck it is, and how Barbara will get away. If it had just been the latter it wouldn't have been so good because the peril is less than it appeared, but as it is the danger just adds spice to a twist with an excellent reveal. Other cliffhangers have neither, and generally they feel as if the story has just stopped (like ad breaks at inappropriate moments on commercial TV).

Back to this, though, and at the end of the disc we get the first of the extras, a bit of discussion between David Richardson and Nigel Robinson about the adaptation of the story to audio. It was interesting that they mentioned religious allegory and that it had been mostly cut out - since I found it pretty explicit anyway!

Rocky Roads (The Robots), part 2: Moving the Goalposts
Getting the story lineup finalised for the new show's first season proved difficult. In September 1963, David Whitaker and Verity Lambert decided that Terry Nation's script The Survivors needed less work than Anthony Coburn's for The Robots, and swapped them in the running order. By late October a run of seven serials had been hammered out; ironically, fewer than half would make it to the screen. The Masters of Luxor limped along until the following year, when it was pushed back to season 2 and eventually written off.

Rating:
3.5/10.

Next Time:
An Infinity of Surprises.

The Lost Stories 3.7, episode 3: A Light on the Dead Planet

The Masters of Luxor continues, and can I say how much I've been enjoying the episode titles so far? All very lyrical and evocative, much more so than the corresponding names for the actual Serial B: The Dead Planet, The Survivors, The Escape.

This episode opens with one heck of a metaphor: for anyone who knows anything about the theological aspects of the Catholic-Protestant split, the issue of transubstantiation must surely spring to mind. According to Catholic doctrine, the wafers of bread and wine (often mixed with water) that are given to the congregation during the sacrament of the Eucharist are literally transformed into the body and blood of Christ. So here we have the Perfect One - a robot who desires to transform himself into a living being - wanting to share wine, water and wafers with the people whose life force he wishes to take in order to achieve that transformation. This casts the Doctor and his friends in the role of the Protestants, declaring that such a transformation is impossible.

In 1963 we were, fundamentally, a Protestant country, and it would have been natural to align the program with the Protestant perspective; but equally, the show was made by a bunch of "wishy-washy-liberals" who wouldn't want to offend anybody's religion, so it is made clear that the religion in question is a mockery of Catholicism, just as the Perfect One is a "mockery of a man". But then again, one of the more barbed criticisms of transubstantiation is that it means the congregation are literally eating their god; and if I am to use one episode title in defence, then surely the fact that the building (and by extension, the robots' society) is cannibalistic must count on the other side? Plenty of food for thought.

What, then, of the contaminated communion comestibles? The Perfect One being immune to the poison is a symbol of how far away he (it?) is from his goal; he could not receive the sacrament even if it were genuine. But I am not sure of the meaning of the travellers being put to sleep.

The significance of this moment to me, though, was that the pleasure I took in the episode moved from the intellectual to the emotional, putting me right back in the area I usually occupy when being entertained by the show; and now, this entry gets back to being a more bog-standard review.

There is more "he said", "she said" in this episode. It had to happen, really, because the team splits up into girl and boy pairings, leaving each of the principal performers to talk to themselves for much of the time. Unfortunate, and it does have an impact on my enjoyment, but it's unavoidable unless you get other people in to do imitations of the Doctor and Barbara; so I'll say no more about it.

The script is solid, and gives Susan a strong role for once. Earlier episodes showed her teenage side; here she uses her scientific background and figures out what to do about her and Barbara's captivity. This always earns bonus marks from me for stories from a period which didn't generally treat her with much respect.

Anthony Coburn doesn't respect the design teams' hopes for a quiet life, though, with the way Ian and the Doctor leave the building. Still, it looked impressive in my mind! This thread of the plot provides a very nice twist, too. I'd been mildly interested in the robots' insistence that there was no signal, figuring they hadn't been given the capacity to perceive it by their makers; but the truth was not something I expected. It got me excited about the plot again, rather than just the ideas. I do hope it's something interesting.

Hm, I'm falling a little behind and I've written plenty, so I think I'll save the next instalment of the history of the serial for next time.

Rating:
5/10.

Next Time:
Tabon of Luxor.

The Lost Stories 3.7, episode 2: The Mockery of a Man

On to the second episode of The Masters of Luxor - but first, let's briefly talk science fiction and scientific speculation. First, there is a thread in the (overlapping, but distinct) SF and scientific communities that looks to the future and attempts to make extrapolations and predictions of the plausible. Sometimes these actually come true in our timeline, Arthur C. Clarke's famous invention of the communications satellite being a prime example (though he apparently originally described it in an article, not a story as is sometimes assumed). On the other hand flying cars haven't appeared yet - but perhaps they will by the time this marathon reaches Gridlock. Another common "golden age" assumption was that robots would be built in humanoid form, and while that age was coming to an end in 1963 it is still noteworthy that it is addressed here in Susan's comments about wheels or tracks being more sensible choices than legs.

Sometimes speculation is just playing with ideas rather than making suggestions or assumptions. The concept of self-replicating machines - while going back to at least 1802 - was first studied in depth by John von Neumann in the late 1940s and popularised in the 1950s. Others (Edward F. Moore, to begin with) took those ideas and tried to make practical solutions, but they are still called "von Neumann machines" after their conceptual father.

Of course, the robots of Luxor don't just make identical copies of themselves, they make improvements. It would be lazy to call this "evolution" without knowing the mechanism of the Perfect One's development, but with the 1950s discoveries of DNA and the mechanisms of biological replication and genetic variation, and the impact this had on popular thought, such ideas were in the air at the time Anthony Coburn was working on this script.

And they were in my mind, too, listening to it. I thoroughly enjoyed the episode, but unusually it was a very cerebral kind of pleasure. There's a lot of "how does that work?" discussion, which might not have been to everyone's taste in a family program on TV but kept me entertained on audio.

Of course, it's not all cerebral - but to show the physical stuff properly would have required the budget for Forbidden Planet! Climbing down a series of balconies in the enormous building would have been done in a way that wasted the mental image, I suspect, and is far better on audio. Incidentally, I chose that film specifically because of similar imagery there - and it fits right into the period. This is superior 1950s SF.

Rocky Roads (The Robots), part 1: Robots and Cavemen and Giants, oh my!
Coming to William Hartnell fandom late in the day I never read the scripts for any of these stories, or indeed found out much about them and the circumstances that led to their abandonment - until this marathon. Now, however, I've taken the time to find out a bit more. As I run through these episodes I'll also provide a potted summary of how this serial ended up as an audio release.

When the initial run of TV stories was being hammered out in 1963 the first serial was to have been C.E. Webber's The Giants, and this was to have been followed by Anthony Coburn's The Tribe of Gum. When Webber's story was postponed Coburn was asked to move his up the schedule and also to write a second to follow straight after: The Masters of Luxor (or, as it was originally known, The Robots). Of course the latter wasn't going to happen, as we shall see next time...

Rating:
7.5/10.

Next Time:
A Light on the Dead Planet.

The Lost Stories 3.7, episode 1: The Cannibal Flower

This is the second of the first Doctor's Lost Stories (third if you count The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance separately), in terms of both production and my experience. As mentioned a few entries ago I was given it as a present last Christmas, but have resisted listening to it until now. So what do I think of it, one episode in?

Big Finish have learned a lot since their initial attempt, which used a format I found tricky to get used to; and although it was saved by the strength of the story, the first episode in particular was a bit of a rough ride. This time there is a more natural division of narration duties (and voices!) between William Russell and Carole Ann Ford, with Russell handling Ian and the Doctor while Ford takes Susan and Barbara. The script, in stark contrast to Farewell, Great Macedon, supports this in two ways. First, when the TARDIS crew split up, it is into male-female pairs, so that there are natural roles for the two actors. Second, there are no speaking roles in the entire episode other than the regulars! I think this is true of The Dead Planet too, but with visuals and a full, living cast it's not so obvious.

Like Moris Farhi's story, this script feels very much of its time. There's a naivety to it, a confidence that the show can do anything coupled with an uncertainty about which of the myriad possibilities would work best. This leads to images like the vast, crystal building set atop a mountain, the kind of extravagant spectacle that the recent series paid tribute to in The Rings of Akhaten; but also to missteps like the TARDIS being driven about like a flying car, an idea that fits perfectly in the new series but is not quite how the show developed in its early years. Still, challenging modelwork aside, practicality isn't forgotten. There's nothing that couldn't have been realised in the confines of Lime Grove Studio D.

I had very clear images in my mind as I listened to this story. They were in black and white, but not really limited by the 1960s technology - for instance, my vision of the TARDIS landing inside the building and Ian and Susan stepping out would have required CGI, though I can imagine how they would have been done if the serial had been produced. This clarity is probably the best indicator that the adaptation to audio has been successful.

As with many opening episodes I enjoyed the mystery here. The cliffhanger, not so much. Susan is about to eat something! Um, is it so hard to imagine how they get out of that one? I confidently predict that the food is good to eat. Let's see if I'm right.

Speaking of the food, Susan's comment "is it real?" made me think that this should come after The Keys of Marinus. We also have references to the earlier lost stories which must have been added for audio. I'm not one of those who thinks the original script should have been followed slavishly, so this is all part of the adaptation. As for it's original, aborted placement... well, I'll say a little about that next time.

One final quibble: it's not a "cannibal flower", since it doesn't eat its own kind, but a carnivorous flower. I'll overlook this because (a) it's non-scientist Barbara describing it, and (b) it sounds way cooler.

Rating:
8/10.

Next Time:
The Mockery of a Man.

CC7.01: The Time Museum

I had been looking forward to hearing this audio for some time. Although I try not to read reviews of things I'm going to experience soon I couldn't help but pick up the generally positive vibe, as well as comments to the effect that it was perfect 50th Anniversary material - just released a little early. So, I listened to it a little late - at the perfect time, in fact.

Though it starts with a look rather than a listen. Alex Mallinson's cover design is particularly fine, being both attractive and appropriate. I especially like the faded-out museum corridor behind (which reminds me of one of M.C. Escher's pictures), the choice of colours, and the way Ian's memories are presented. Also, the design fits well with the stripe-down-the-left Big Finish house style. Good job!

Jumping to the end, the CD extra is just a brief clip of producer David Richardson interviewing the actors and director: a bit of fluff that doesn't add to my knowledge or insight, and doesn't even mention the lunches. This doesn't detract from the experience, though, and everyone sounds happy, so fair enough.

Back to the story, then; and one interesting aspect for readers of Elizabeth Sandifer's blog (or of the musings of some like-thinking people) is the adventure set on Vastradia. This is the only part to resemble a traditional Companion Chronicle, and it is where alchemy raises its head; so I just want to say a little about that. The adventure begins because of the mercury in the fault locator (or something - whatever, it is in itself a jumbled version of events from past stories), but the key element this time is molybdenum. An interesting choice: the name comes from a Greek word for lead, because the ores were often mistaken for each other. So, a confusing element for a confused account! It is an important substance in life processes since it is the main catalyst used by nitrogen-fixing bacteria, without which multicellular life could not exist. Transformative not just in the sense of affecting a chemical process, then, but also in the sense of affecting the whole history of life on Earth.

Alchemically, it is mercury that is the agent of change, transforming base lead into pure gold just as the Doctor transforms societies - for example, on Vortis. And in a later conversation about that very world Ian mentions a forbidden metal which Pendolin tentatively identifies as molybdenum, but which is actually gold. The narrative has moved further on in the process. Intentional? Probably not, but that doesn't actually matter with symbolism.

Molybdaenum, plumbum, lead - what's in a name? Thing can be referred to by different titles - and titles can refer to different things. Even on the TV show, The Rescue is both a serial in its own right and an episode of The Daleks, which is itself also an episode of The Dalek Invasion of Earth. Once you introduce expanded universe stories what hope is there? The Time Museum (as well as being a pun on The Space Museum) was a comic strip in the 1969 TV Comic Annual. If I find a copy I'll read it at the appropriate time, though from the TVC stories I have seen it's not going to be a priority!

James Goss is the author of a few eleventh Doctor books, though he is probably better known for writing a large number of Torchwood novels, short stories, and audios. Of these I've only read one (The Undertaker's Gift, not really my thing) and heard one other (The Golden Age, which was fun). The Time Museum is the earliest of his three Companion Chronicles to date, and one thing that strikes me is their variety (though they are all, in their various ways, nostalgia fests). The other thing of note is their quality: this is my least-favourite, and it's still above average.

Unusually, I can say a little bit about what makes this a good script. It is exemplified by the line "Mr Chesterton, you don't give up!", which summarises Ian's character beautifully, but not in a completely obvious way. Throughout, there is the sense that Goss really knows the period and has thought quite deeply about it.

Published:
Date: July 2012
ISBN: 1-78178-018-3

Rating:
7/10. But only just.

Next Time:
The Cannibal Flower.

Episode CC7.01b: The Birth of Ian Chesterton

Spoilery goodness ahead.

Last time, it seemed fairly obvious that Pendolin was the bad guy. He reminded me of the demon in the classic Doctor Strange story "What Lurks Beneath the Mask?" (originally from Strange Tales 136 according to t'Internet, though as a child I read the B&W Marvel UK reprint); but I was hoping there'd be more of a twist than there was. He did get his memories eaten too, after all.

The other thing I was looking forward to was the resolution of the cliffhanger. The "what the?" identity-switch moment at the end was certainly intriguing! And what happens at the start of this episode? Another disconnect - which is fine - but then they go back to their old selves, prompted just by the smell of matches in the fog, and write it all off with a line of dialogue. I found this really disappointing.

Still, what wasn't disappointing was the reference to the first novelisation, Doctor Who in an Exciting Adventure with the Daleks. In fact, I've enjoyed all the references to past stories. I believe every one of Ian's TV serials is covered, along with a number of audios; though this is the only book I spotted. In the second episode there are also several references to the program post-Ian: the time scoop, Sontarans and Rutans, Nekkistani (from the audios), even the Eternals! The nerd in me really enjoyed all of this.

One niggle, though: having Eternals among the captured specimens does seem to me to be setting up Pendolin's people as being more powerful than the story needs. This, along with the ending, makes this story feel like the start of a new trilogy - one which, with the end of the regular Companion Chronicle series fast approaching, seems unlikely to happen.

Anyway. This episode has to do a lot of heavy lifting in terms of explanation, and with that in mind the decision to move the action beyond the Chesterton Exhibition is a good one. It was a fun tour, but a bit more variety is needed at this point. The exposition is well done, fortunately, so it sounds like (mostly) natural conversation. There are some lovely turns of phrase - I particularly like "tugging away at his lapels and looking into the centuries." Though the fact that the discussion reveals the ending of The Rocket Men would have annoyed me if I hadn't heard it!

The way Ian hides both his recovery and the fact that he has rumbled Pendolin is particularly well done, both in terms of script and performance. The story of the rock made me think, too; it's a changing of history I hadn't considered.

Still, overall, this episode grabbed me less than the preceding one. It's a common problem for serialised stories in all media: everything's new and exciting to start with, but then you have to tie up the story. It's partly why the three-act structure evolved, to control the pacing of a play; and the limitation of two-episode stories is that you generally have to make Act One lead up to the cliffhanger, which only leaves 25 minutes or so for the other two. Indeed, the ending here feels in some ways as if we have only reached the end of the second act (at most) for Ian, and I think that's why it looks something like the start of a trilogy.

Rating:
5/10

Next Time:
The Time Museum as a whole.

Episode CC7.01a: The Cave of Five Hundred Skulls

One of the first thoughts to strike me here was that this is a full-cast audio, the first of my marathon so far. Okay, so there are only two actors - fewer than Farewell, Great Macedon, for example - but there's no narration. Or rather, there is, but that's not where the action lies. In effect, this is the framing sequence device of many Companion Chronicles taken to its logical conclusion: it's all frame!

This makes it special, more like a TV episode; and because I've got a little bored with straight reviews I thought I'd do a walkthrough similar to the ones I posted for The Velvet Web and The Space Museum - this time looking at the sound design, by Richard Fox and Lauren Yason, who also provide the music.

Spoilers!

Clock (Track 2)
Following the theme music (that oh-so-thrilling theme music, still chilling after half a century) we hear what I originally thought was a brief period of silence. It was only when I listened a second time - the sound coming through headphones rather than from the speakers of the radio in a busy kitchen - that I realised it was merely the 'silence' of the bedroom, with the ticking of a clock and the quiet noises of someone shifting in their sleep. Then the alarm goes off. It briefly sounds like the old, mechanical sort; but then it rises bizarrely in pitch, and as it does so the background music cuts in, electronic and spooky.

Six seconds. We are six seconds into the story proper, and it has already told us a fair bit about the tone we can expect from this episode. Of course, those expectations might be subverted later, but that's fair enough. The point is that without a word of dialogue things are being set up remarkably quickly.

And speaking of dialogue, we hear our first voice just before the seven-second mark. It's echoey, urgent, and unknown, joined almost immediately by the familiar sound of William Russell as a sleepy, just-waking Ian.

Half a minute in, and we get the sound of a door being opened. This is possibly the most clichéd sound effect of all, lampooned in the "Doorhandle of the Day" sketch during Ignore These Program Titles The Burkiss Way; but it's a cliché for a reason. Doors are darn useful ways of changing a scene. Five seconds later we leave the bedroom for...

Classroom (Track 2, continued)
...Ian's laboratory in Coal Hill School. As we do so, the resonance (is that the word?) changes. The warm, slightly muffled sound of Ian's voice in his bedroom is replaced by the lighter, crisper sound associated with a larger space (though with muffled "noises off" from the crowds in the corridors). The spooky, stringy music provides continuity, but the pace of the two characters' exchange loses some of its energy. This doesn't matter, because we're hooked now. We've got the idea that something strange and creepy is going on, and the story can afford to pause for breath and fill in a few of the details.

(These changes of pace are something where the writer, director and actors all have significant input, but this is the first time I've thought about it from the point of view of sound design.)

The expound-basics-of-situation discussion goes on for - comparatively - quite a long time, and during this the music and noises off start to become a little repetitious. I'm sure this is deliberate; museum displays are generally static things, and again the intent is tonal. It's not enough to become boring, even when I'm paying more conscious attention to it than it is designed for.

When They arrive - the beings the voice is fleeing - They are represented as only-just-audible sounds. As They get nearer and louder, so too does the volume of the music so They remain on the edge of hearing. It's a neat trick, finely judged.

As Ian's memories are taken we can just about hear "Susan" in the sounds, while "Einstein", "Barbara", and "John Smith" are all clearer - perhaps becoming more so as They feed.

Nine minutes in and we're heading through another door, this time one that whooshes open.

Corridor (Track 3)
Once again there's a change of resonance, and future scene changes do the same so I'll stop mentioning it. This time it's emphasised by the quiet: no music, no sounds except the echo of footprints on metal. The music doesn't resume until Ian spots how old he is ("preserved late in life", as Pendolin says). There's a rattle when They are about to arrive, shortly before the next scene change, just over halfway through the track.

Crusades (Track 3, continued)
The change is marked by a very neat transition where a grating sound - as of a stiff metal door being opened - transforms into a horse's whinny. The soundscape gives a real sense of being outdoors, though the music slightly overwhelms the sound of the battle, lessening its impact. This is, I think, a misjudgement - but it's only a minor annoyance, and when the noise of the fighting fades as they ride away and the music ends as they outrun the threat, I'm won over again. Ian's scrambled memories are emphasised by the return of the music, but the other sounds aren't ignored as they make their way through the underbrush of the forest, and into...

Cave (Track 4)
...the echoey (and eponymous) Cave of Five Hundred Skulls. The faint crackling of the fire gives us a 2½-minute break from music while not being totally bland, before the music returns to emphasise Pendolin's story shortly before the spectacular collapse of the walls.

Coast (Track 5)
Then we're outside again, with birdsong, moving water, and the next (3-minute) pause in the music. This is the closest we get to a regular Companion Chronicle, with Ian and Pendolin recreating an old adventure as Ian tells the tale. Pipey music returns with an impressive monster roar and then They catch up, prompting a retreat to the next scene.

Canyon (Track 6)
A moment of silence, then the sounds of footfalls on sand or gravel. The scene changes are so well-signified that I never have any doubt where we've got to. It wouldn't work in a story that was intended to be less disorientating, but here it's just right. The sounds of the gravel slide, the fall, the match lighting, all work to conjure up just the mental images required, and then we have the incongruous opening gate of the junkyard.

Console (Track 6, continued)
Everything has been speeding up as the episode progresses, and I notice that's true of this review too. We're back round to An Unearthly Child, again, in the junkyard with the TARDIS humming away; then we open the TARDIS doors and step in, being confused by the dimensions. The music changes, becoming deeper than before as They arrive and Ian gets confused about his identity; everything gets louder and more intense (perhaps more compressed), leading up to the thunderclap and the closing theme.

Phew. Quite a journey! I will say that the music was not my favourite, but it's well used; and the rest of the soundscape is brilliant. I haven't paid attention to sound designers before, so I don't know if Fox and Yason are old hands; but I might keep my eye out from now on.

There are some things I want to say about other aspects of the episode, but given the length of this review I reckon I'll incorporate them into my next post...

Rating:
8.5/10

Next Time:
The Birth of Ian Chesterton

The Hiatus, or "It's 1985 all over again!"

Hah, my revival of the blog didn't last long, did it? Well, I'm trying again. I'm writing this while on holiday with no internet, no phone reception, and no interruptions (except for my family wanting to do fun things with me, and for some strange reason I'm okay with that).

Time flies. It's now three weeks since I wrote the previous paragraph; I've only written a little in that period, and rather than being contributions to this blog it's mostly been a trial chapter for a potential new book. So far the experiment's looking promising, but it's still too early to tell whether it's worth the investment of time to finish it and then attempt to interest publishers or agents.

I've also been doing other things. Dieting, for one. This was for health reasons, and I've managed to lose about five kilos so far. A surprise benefit is that I've stopped snoring, so my wife isn't getting disturbed in the night. Which is not only nice but also important, since she is currently taking up the financial slack by working extra shifts at the hospital and really needs her sleep.

Oh yes, money. Alison earned more than we anticipated last year, and as a result our Working Family Tax Credit has been cut - by more than the difference between estimate and actuality, so her working hard meant we got less. To balance the books she needs to earn at least an extra £3,000 this year - but not more than £5,000 otherwise we lose the rest of the benefits, and then she'll have to earn even more! It's a minefield. Meanwhile, the school where I work (very) part time as a teaching assistant has had its budget slashed. No surprise there, but as a result it's unclear whether I'll be getting any work from them. Last year my groups were cut from two to one (though since I was doing Gifted and Talented maths sessions rather than boosters I was at least able to pack in more fun stuff). Oh for the days when I was physically able to do contract programming, could earn four times as much per hour, and had trouble getting enough time off! Anyway, we'll wait and see what happens, but current plans involve me trying to see if I can make my money from writing, though that won't happen unless I prioritise it.

But I digress. Apart from diversion (and a little understandable depression), what has distracted me from my marathon? I think one thing is that I really don't want to say goodbye to Iananbarbara. With Susan's departure there was at least the feeling that the character never lived up to her potential, but it's been a more solidly positive experience with the teachers from Coal Hill. The Time Museum was to have been my final story with them - well, with Ian, at least - and I don't want to get to the end.

I've decided to postpone that moment. There's a large backlog of stories (mostly audio) which have been added to my collection since the time they should have been reviewed, so I'm going to go back and fill in the gaps. Timeslips, as deltaandthebannermen puts it. Stories include The Masters of Luxor (which I was given last Christmas and still haven't heard), The Library of Alexandria, The Flames of Cadiz, and some pre-Unearthly Child stories with the Doctor and Susan. (There's also The Wanderer, if I can get my hands on a cheap enough copy.) On top of that, I want to briefly revisit a few televised stories that weren't out on DVD. The Sensorites will only get a brief mention, but I'll do a (single) review of the two animated episodes of Reign of Terror as well as one for the four-episode reconstruction of Planet of Giants.

Here's my ambitious plan. I will post at least two reviews or fiction extracts a week between now and the anniversary. As soon as I finish the story I am then reviewing, I will tackle The Beginning in celebration (I have it preordered). I will stick to this plan unless some money-earning writing opportunity comes along.

Fingers crossed!

Next Time:
Really The Cave of Five Hundred Skulls!

Short Trips, Companions 5.09: Distance, by Tara Samms

We're back with Tara Samms, one of Stephen Cole's pseudonyms; and, like Frayed, this is quite an odd little story. The prose is strong, and what I might call the framing premise is powerful: Barbara has a medical diagnosis confirmed (presumably cancer, though it's not stated so could be something else equally serious) and has to decide how much to tell Ian, as well as when.

Now the thing is, Jacqueline Hill died of cancer in February 1993: almost exactly ten years before this collection came out. She was one of the great losses of the wilderness years so this has a resonance, enhancing the poignancy of the story; but there's also a question of taste. What the death of actors means for their characters is a tricky issue, and with the two highest-profile recent deaths the show has chosen opposite approaches. It is made clear that Sarah Jane carries on her investigations despite the passing of Elisabeth Sladen, whereas the Brigadier and Nicholas Courtney died together. Both have, I feel, been handled with respect, and to me that's what matters.

Samms treats Barbara's impending death with respect too. As a result, it feels like a tribute to a great actress rather than a cheap trick to gain an emotional response. I called this a framing premise, however, because it's wrapped around (and entwined with) a scifi plot; and this is where the story starts to come apart for me.

The thing is - and I know I've used that phrase before - it's an entirely unremarkable SF plot. There's an alien using human bodies for its own ends, without caring about what happens to the hosts or the people in their lives. Been there, done that - and so have Iananbarbara. Ian, in fact, sorts it out in a handful of paragraphs. But there's one character - the daughter of a human the alien has used up - who is having difficulty coming to terms with the death of her father. And she is completely sidelined by the story, the focus pulling straight back onto Barbara's predicament, no more than a reflection that helps Barbara come to a decision.

Flashback to the morning of 17th July 1982: my 18th birthday. We are supposed to be away on holiday now, but yesterday we had to cut it short and come home because my dad wasn't feeling well. He has cancer - has had it for a long time, among other problems, though nobody has thought to tell me. So when I wake up I find he has been taken into hospital, again. This time he never comes out; a fortnight later, he is dead. That same day I drive the car off the road, unaware that I have no insurance since I am now the named driver of a corpse, and apparently corpses can't be insured to drive.

I am that confused, not-yet-grieving-really child, and I don't appreciate being ignored. It feels a callous move on Samms' part, and while the writer in me says that to keep the focus off Barbara makes no sense at this point, it still hurts.

I may have mentioned my dad's death before in this blog. It's a transformative moment for me, coming as it does just after leaving Sixth Form and less than two months before I go to University, to live away from home for the first time. It divides my life into 'before' and 'after'. Sometimes it still bites me.

As I said, there's a question of taste. And it's not for me to judge whether I've just used my own, personal tragedy for a cheap emotional response...

Published:
Date: March 2003
ISBN: 1-84435-006-1

Rating:
4/10.

Next Time:
We join an older Ian for a visit to The Cave of Five Hundred Skulls...