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
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