Well, I really thought Ptolemy was going to die this time, even though he wasn't one of the conspirators' targets. As it is there's no deaths in the entire episode. Of course, we can see Alexander's death coming up (a quick trip to Wikipedia tells me that Antipater was really suspected of complicity in murdering the king, though Iollas was actually the wine-pourer). So that's alright then.
The cliffhanger resolution is really just a segue into a classic dungeon scene, which is in turn followed by a classic trial scene. The dialogue continues to be excellent, with not just sound logical and emotional arguments but original ones at that. I particularly liked the bit where they refused to defend themselves against a charge of being the gods' tools, on the grounds that there was no defense against such an accusation! Alexander's solution - to punish just Ian - got me at first, but I worked out that he was recreating the "Judgement of Solomon" before the TARDIS crew, so I got to feel good about my thinking.
The actual test seems in keeping with the times, and not unfair if you believe in the favour of the gods. Susan's overreaction on hearing about the Doctor's test irritated me, though it was in keeping with the TV show at the time; but my irritation at this paled when compared to my reaction when she was so slow to understand about how the firewalking was done. Genius, my foot!
My mood improved with the Doctor's ridiculous claim that he's "never one to bear a grudge" - and the scenes where Alexander is working things out with Ptolemy while the Doctor and his companions do the same really buoyed me up.
Meanwhile the repeated fanfare, sounding like it's intended for the common man (2,265 years early, but appropriate to the idea of Alexander presented here), tells us of the forthcoming games. Incidentally, Glaucias was Hephaestion's historical doctor, and the extravagant games really did take place at Babylon - but eight months earlier than Alexander's own death.
Ah yes, the games. As I feared, this features the return of Action Hero Ian; but in fact he's less annoying than he was in The Aztecs, so I won't knock off too many marks for that. The Doctor did pretty much what I expected, though I didn't know about the technique used, so there's some educational content right there. And actually I've been encouraged to find out a lot more about Alexander, so this is one of the most educational stories so far!
And so, as Ian triumphs over the adversaries in his group, we reach the end of this penultimate episode - and a different cliffhanger, at last! It's more of a teaser, really, since there is no immediate threat - I doubt even Seleucus is stupid enough to try and kill Ian in plain view of the others, and our awesome science teacher has already shown that he's more than a match for the heroes of the Greek army physically - but the story has built up so much momentum that I suspect anyone who hasn't lost interest already will be eager for next week's instalment.
Development of a Script, Part 5: Redrafting
An important aspect of script development is redrafting. It never had a chance to happen properly in this case, and I only really mention it for completeness. It is extremely unlikely that a first submitted draft will perfectly match the slot in the program for which it was written and be perfect in pace, dialogue and all other details. There is usually a back-and-forth between the writer and the editor, although sometimes the latter just takes on the job of redrafting. I may come back to this topic in a more appropriate story...
Rating:
8/10.
Next Time:
Episode 6, Farewell, Great Macedon!
Monday, 6 February 2012
Friday, 3 February 2012
The Lost Stories 2.1a, episode 4: The World Lies Dead At Your Feet
Hm, it seems that Alexander and those around him are quite commonly saved from the consequences of the king's temper thanks to timely intervention by his friends. We had basically the same cliffhanger resolution last time, which is a shame; but then it's straight on with the story, which continues to impress.
It amuses me how faithful to the TV of the time my imagined visuals are. As Alexander sets a torch to the funeral pyre, I picture a flare caused by the light levels. Cameras at that time could only cope with a fairly narrow range of grey; if you wanted to represent lighting you only had to paint something white and it would appear to be glowing. You can see it sometimes in the episodes that were made, when someone waves a torch and the camera is overwhelmed: it looks a little as if the film is burning.
It does seem as if the older performers are struggling a little as well. Carole Ann Ford sounds a bit tired and breathless at times, and right at the end William Russell does too. It doesn't interfere with my enjoyment of the story, but I did wonder whether they were, perhaps, recording slightly too much in a day. I'll keep an eye on how they progress.
Back in the story, Seleucus finally joins the conspiracy properly, the Doctor congratulates himself on how well he's done extracting heavy hydrogen from oil (which again is more than I needed to know), and we discover that Barbara really wants to leave before the king's death. This last surprised me, as I expected the history teacher to want to see as much as possible; but it was a good surprise which made a great deal of sense on reflection, showing an understanding of human nature and modern sensibilities.
Speaking of modern sensibilities, I finally twigged what Moris Farhi is doing with Alexander, which is to credit him with large parts of the up-to-date morality of the 1960s. The bad guys are left to voice all the archaic opinions - "die a woman's death", indeed! - while the conquering hero gets to lecture about his dreams of equality, of the marriage of East and West. I suspect this overstates the case rather, but fair enough - to complain about this in a story which makes a much better than average attempt to use actual history (even if is myth-history) would be churlish, to say the least.
Hephaestion is given a heroic death. We never really got to know him as well as the other victims, so I mourned him less; and equally, Glaucias was the most faceless of the conspirators, so his death was only an opportunity to show off the bravery of Alexander's best friend. However, I gave an internal cheer when Alexander cut down Iollas, nasty murdering swine that he was. Again this is an example of me getting swept up in the portrayal of Alexander, who had almost certainly killed far more men with no greater justification (and I'm not a supporter of capital punishment in real life anyway); but this is entertainment, which I hold to different standards.
And then we get to the cliffhanger; and I do mean the cliffhanger, because it's basically the same one again. This is a weakness in the writing, and while it's not fatal to the mood it is beginning to take just a little of the shine off.
It's notable how often the number four crops up in this story. There are four travellers, four conspirators, four friends of Alexander - and this episode has (IIRC) four deaths. Perhaps next episode will be the fourth and final time this cliffhanger is used...
Development of a Script, Part 4: Adaptation Again
Another change Nigel Robinson made to the script was Ian's gift to Alexander. Originally it was to be a wristwatch, but Robinson felt that this was too reminiscent of a later Hartnell story as well as potentially having too great an impact on history. Essentially he was working as script editor as well as adapter (is that a word?), since that sort of tidying up of details is definitely editorial.
And speaking of gifts, this boxset was another of my Christmas presents. I hadn't got around to mentioning it because there has always been plenty to fill up the reviews, but I had to bring it up now because the concept of gift-giving is at the heart of this episode. And did you know that "gift" is a German word for poison? Highly appropriate!
Rating:
7.5/10.
Next Time:
Episode 5, In the Arena.
It amuses me how faithful to the TV of the time my imagined visuals are. As Alexander sets a torch to the funeral pyre, I picture a flare caused by the light levels. Cameras at that time could only cope with a fairly narrow range of grey; if you wanted to represent lighting you only had to paint something white and it would appear to be glowing. You can see it sometimes in the episodes that were made, when someone waves a torch and the camera is overwhelmed: it looks a little as if the film is burning.
It does seem as if the older performers are struggling a little as well. Carole Ann Ford sounds a bit tired and breathless at times, and right at the end William Russell does too. It doesn't interfere with my enjoyment of the story, but I did wonder whether they were, perhaps, recording slightly too much in a day. I'll keep an eye on how they progress.
Back in the story, Seleucus finally joins the conspiracy properly, the Doctor congratulates himself on how well he's done extracting heavy hydrogen from oil (which again is more than I needed to know), and we discover that Barbara really wants to leave before the king's death. This last surprised me, as I expected the history teacher to want to see as much as possible; but it was a good surprise which made a great deal of sense on reflection, showing an understanding of human nature and modern sensibilities.
Speaking of modern sensibilities, I finally twigged what Moris Farhi is doing with Alexander, which is to credit him with large parts of the up-to-date morality of the 1960s. The bad guys are left to voice all the archaic opinions - "die a woman's death", indeed! - while the conquering hero gets to lecture about his dreams of equality, of the marriage of East and West. I suspect this overstates the case rather, but fair enough - to complain about this in a story which makes a much better than average attempt to use actual history (even if is myth-history) would be churlish, to say the least.
Hephaestion is given a heroic death. We never really got to know him as well as the other victims, so I mourned him less; and equally, Glaucias was the most faceless of the conspirators, so his death was only an opportunity to show off the bravery of Alexander's best friend. However, I gave an internal cheer when Alexander cut down Iollas, nasty murdering swine that he was. Again this is an example of me getting swept up in the portrayal of Alexander, who had almost certainly killed far more men with no greater justification (and I'm not a supporter of capital punishment in real life anyway); but this is entertainment, which I hold to different standards.
And then we get to the cliffhanger; and I do mean the cliffhanger, because it's basically the same one again. This is a weakness in the writing, and while it's not fatal to the mood it is beginning to take just a little of the shine off.
It's notable how often the number four crops up in this story. There are four travellers, four conspirators, four friends of Alexander - and this episode has (IIRC) four deaths. Perhaps next episode will be the fourth and final time this cliffhanger is used...
Development of a Script, Part 4: Adaptation Again
Another change Nigel Robinson made to the script was Ian's gift to Alexander. Originally it was to be a wristwatch, but Robinson felt that this was too reminiscent of a later Hartnell story as well as potentially having too great an impact on history. Essentially he was working as script editor as well as adapter (is that a word?), since that sort of tidying up of details is definitely editorial.
And speaking of gifts, this boxset was another of my Christmas presents. I hadn't got around to mentioning it because there has always been plenty to fill up the reviews, but I had to bring it up now because the concept of gift-giving is at the heart of this episode. And did you know that "gift" is a German word for poison? Highly appropriate!
Rating:
7.5/10.
Next Time:
Episode 5, In the Arena.
Wednesday, 1 February 2012
The Lost Stories 2.1a, episode 3: A Man Must Die
By Timothy, Moris Farhi writes good dialogue! This is another episode which gripped me throughout. Alexander's reaction to Cleitus's death fits the reported facts, too; there is uncertainty over his sincerity in history, but not in this story.
It seems as if Alexander really was a man of great passion, and it makes sense that his grief is writ as large as his anger. In fact, this episode is principally about emotions and personality, and how they interact. It makes for very engaging drama. We have Ian sunk in guilt for the part he played in Cleitus's death, while Barbara has taken on board the lessons of The Aztecs and attempts to comfort him with the historical inevitability of what happened. By the end, though, she has played her part in another death, and I wonder if that argument will help her to come to terms with that. In both cases our heroes did what did because of what would normally be considered virtues: Ian's fierce sense of morality, Barbara's honesty.
In between, stuff happens. We find out how persuasive Barbara can be - as does Alexander - and how different Antipater is from his fellow conspirators. Calanus gets to show off his wisdom concerning people, though not in the case of Antipater. And we learn that the Doctor is really a medical doctor.
Wait - what? I suspect that line would have been cut by David Whitaker if this had been made for TV. Sure, it makes sense that the Doctor can use his broad range of future knowledge to diagnose Calanus's sickness, and I can even cope with the ancient blood transfusion service (which provides another opportunity for some excellent debates); but that doesn't make him an M.D. Hmph, as he himself might say.
Incidentally, the historical Calanus was dying of pneumonia rather than from poisoning when he made his final request, but the rest of the details seem accurate.
There's a series of children's books that my son is really into at the moment called 'The Danger Zone', about perilous situations in history. The titles all follow the same pattern, and with this story I'm starting to feel as if we're in one called 'Avoid Being One of Alexander the Great's Friends'. I reckon Hephaestion's number will be up next episode.
Finally we come to the cliffhanger, and it's a clever one. In most cases we wouldn't worry about Ian being threatened like that, but over the last two episodes we've come to see quite how violent Alexander's rages can be. As a result, there's more of a sense of genuine peril than there would have been, say, two episodes ago. Of course we know Ian will survive; but that isn't the purpose of a cliffhanger, really. It's more of a "how will he get out of that?", a way of keeping us thinking about the show during the week and making sure we tune in next time to find out. If we thought that it would be resolved with an "oh, never mind, I'll let you off this time" from Alexander it wouldn't work. Of course, that might still happen; but if so it's a problem with the resolution. And that belongs to the next episode.
Development of a Script, Part 3: Choose Your Own Adventure
As script editor, it was part of Whitaker's job to match up writers with story ideas that (a) fitted with a slot in the schedule, and (b) matched the writer's ability and experience. He didn't always get it right - pairing Terry Nation with historical The Red Fort, for example, didn't get anywhere - but it worked more often than not. Whitaker wasn't sure Moris Farhi was right for Who, but recognised someone who could be an asset for the BBC anyway. He encouraged Farhi to think up exotic ideas, and they explored the possibility of doing something on Hayreddin Barbarossa before deciding that it would be too expensive. Once Farhi hit on the idea of exploring the end of Alexander's life, Whitaker asked him for a trial script - and I've already explained what happened next...
Rating:
8/10.
Next Time:
Episode 4, The World Lies Dead At Your Feet.
It seems as if Alexander really was a man of great passion, and it makes sense that his grief is writ as large as his anger. In fact, this episode is principally about emotions and personality, and how they interact. It makes for very engaging drama. We have Ian sunk in guilt for the part he played in Cleitus's death, while Barbara has taken on board the lessons of The Aztecs and attempts to comfort him with the historical inevitability of what happened. By the end, though, she has played her part in another death, and I wonder if that argument will help her to come to terms with that. In both cases our heroes did what did because of what would normally be considered virtues: Ian's fierce sense of morality, Barbara's honesty.
In between, stuff happens. We find out how persuasive Barbara can be - as does Alexander - and how different Antipater is from his fellow conspirators. Calanus gets to show off his wisdom concerning people, though not in the case of Antipater. And we learn that the Doctor is really a medical doctor.
Wait - what? I suspect that line would have been cut by David Whitaker if this had been made for TV. Sure, it makes sense that the Doctor can use his broad range of future knowledge to diagnose Calanus's sickness, and I can even cope with the ancient blood transfusion service (which provides another opportunity for some excellent debates); but that doesn't make him an M.D. Hmph, as he himself might say.
Incidentally, the historical Calanus was dying of pneumonia rather than from poisoning when he made his final request, but the rest of the details seem accurate.
There's a series of children's books that my son is really into at the moment called 'The Danger Zone', about perilous situations in history. The titles all follow the same pattern, and with this story I'm starting to feel as if we're in one called 'Avoid Being One of Alexander the Great's Friends'. I reckon Hephaestion's number will be up next episode.
Finally we come to the cliffhanger, and it's a clever one. In most cases we wouldn't worry about Ian being threatened like that, but over the last two episodes we've come to see quite how violent Alexander's rages can be. As a result, there's more of a sense of genuine peril than there would have been, say, two episodes ago. Of course we know Ian will survive; but that isn't the purpose of a cliffhanger, really. It's more of a "how will he get out of that?", a way of keeping us thinking about the show during the week and making sure we tune in next time to find out. If we thought that it would be resolved with an "oh, never mind, I'll let you off this time" from Alexander it wouldn't work. Of course, that might still happen; but if so it's a problem with the resolution. And that belongs to the next episode.
Development of a Script, Part 3: Choose Your Own Adventure
As script editor, it was part of Whitaker's job to match up writers with story ideas that (a) fitted with a slot in the schedule, and (b) matched the writer's ability and experience. He didn't always get it right - pairing Terry Nation with historical The Red Fort, for example, didn't get anywhere - but it worked more often than not. Whitaker wasn't sure Moris Farhi was right for Who, but recognised someone who could be an asset for the BBC anyway. He encouraged Farhi to think up exotic ideas, and they explored the possibility of doing something on Hayreddin Barbarossa before deciding that it would be too expensive. Once Farhi hit on the idea of exploring the end of Alexander's life, Whitaker asked him for a trial script - and I've already explained what happened next...
Rating:
8/10.
Next Time:
Episode 4, The World Lies Dead At Your Feet.
Monday, 30 January 2012
The Lost Stories 2.1a, episode 2: O, Son! My Son!
Happily, despite a couple of days having passed in between, I was fine with the narrative style from the start of this episode. I guess it must be like riding a bike.
The first thing that caught my attention was the lack of recap. It's not needed, of course, and it didn't bother me; but it is a difference from the TV series. This episode focuses on Alexander, Father Cleitus, and the relationship between the two men. There's a lot more going on, of course, and we start to see the conspiracy up and running while getting to know Alexander and his friends generally. There's surprisingly little action until very near the end, but that doesn't mean the episode lacks tension: in fact, it raced by for me even though it's longer than the average TV episode.
Most of the dialogue is once again excellent, though there are a couple of heavy-handed moments. The Doctor accidentally calling Ian "Chesterfield" and then, when corrected, deliberately referring to him as "Chatterton" is the sort of idea that might look good on paper, but fails in practice - particularly after both those versions have been used in other stories. The expanded explanation of the TARDIS's fuel problem as involving heavy hydrogen is also a step too far. Finally, I was surprised to hear Alexander call the Doctor a "scientist" rather than a "philosopher" or some such. Still, these are all minor points, and the conversations were a large part of what keeps the story flowing.
It all builds up relentlessly, paced just right leading into the final scene, the banquet. With wine flowing freely, the argument between Ian and Cleitus which spreads to those around them is pitched perfectly, and - while I strongly doubt that the historical Alexander held quite such liberal views regarding the equality of men - the consequences that follow are consistent with everything we have seen earlier.
I hadn't been paying much attention to the sound design until the banquet. The background hubbub really adds to the atmosphere, and I realised that it has been rather quiet. Oh, there's been enough to set the scene throughout, but it's not as immersive as many Big Finish releases.
Anyway, back to the death of Cleitus. Wondering just how much of this was accurate (at least to the mythic history of Alexander), I checked it out on Wikipedia (post blackout). The events are almost exactly as described, but take place some years earlier and in a different place. Interestingly the film Alexander (which I haven't seen) also makes use of the event but transplants it to the Indian campaign in between. I guess some images are too good for little details like geography and history to spoil!
Development of a Script, Part 2: Beyond the Call
The thing about this episode and the ones that follow which distinguishes them from the first is that they should never have existed, even in script form, because David Whitaker had only commissioned a single trial episode of a story about Alexander's death. Farhi, however, became "demonically inspired" and proceeded to write the whole thing. This may not have made much sense economically, but as the author of these reviews I know that money isn't the only motivator. And given the quality of this second script, I'm very glad that the extra episodes do exist!
This episode is also known as The Wrath Of The Greatest Grecian Of Them All!, so I think writer Farhi must have had a thing for exclamation points! Rather like Stan Lee, who didn't believe in the existence of periods! True fact, you know - would I lie to you?!
Rating:
8.5/10.
Next Time:
Episode 3, A Man Must Die.
The first thing that caught my attention was the lack of recap. It's not needed, of course, and it didn't bother me; but it is a difference from the TV series. This episode focuses on Alexander, Father Cleitus, and the relationship between the two men. There's a lot more going on, of course, and we start to see the conspiracy up and running while getting to know Alexander and his friends generally. There's surprisingly little action until very near the end, but that doesn't mean the episode lacks tension: in fact, it raced by for me even though it's longer than the average TV episode.
Most of the dialogue is once again excellent, though there are a couple of heavy-handed moments. The Doctor accidentally calling Ian "Chesterfield" and then, when corrected, deliberately referring to him as "Chatterton" is the sort of idea that might look good on paper, but fails in practice - particularly after both those versions have been used in other stories. The expanded explanation of the TARDIS's fuel problem as involving heavy hydrogen is also a step too far. Finally, I was surprised to hear Alexander call the Doctor a "scientist" rather than a "philosopher" or some such. Still, these are all minor points, and the conversations were a large part of what keeps the story flowing.
It all builds up relentlessly, paced just right leading into the final scene, the banquet. With wine flowing freely, the argument between Ian and Cleitus which spreads to those around them is pitched perfectly, and - while I strongly doubt that the historical Alexander held quite such liberal views regarding the equality of men - the consequences that follow are consistent with everything we have seen earlier.
I hadn't been paying much attention to the sound design until the banquet. The background hubbub really adds to the atmosphere, and I realised that it has been rather quiet. Oh, there's been enough to set the scene throughout, but it's not as immersive as many Big Finish releases.
Anyway, back to the death of Cleitus. Wondering just how much of this was accurate (at least to the mythic history of Alexander), I checked it out on Wikipedia (post blackout). The events are almost exactly as described, but take place some years earlier and in a different place. Interestingly the film Alexander (which I haven't seen) also makes use of the event but transplants it to the Indian campaign in between. I guess some images are too good for little details like geography and history to spoil!
Development of a Script, Part 2: Beyond the Call
The thing about this episode and the ones that follow which distinguishes them from the first is that they should never have existed, even in script form, because David Whitaker had only commissioned a single trial episode of a story about Alexander's death. Farhi, however, became "demonically inspired" and proceeded to write the whole thing. This may not have made much sense economically, but as the author of these reviews I know that money isn't the only motivator. And given the quality of this second script, I'm very glad that the extra episodes do exist!
This episode is also known as The Wrath Of The Greatest Grecian Of Them All!, so I think writer Farhi must have had a thing for exclamation points! Rather like Stan Lee, who didn't believe in the existence of periods! True fact, you know - would I lie to you?!
Rating:
8.5/10.
Next Time:
Episode 3, A Man Must Die.
Friday, 27 January 2012
The Lost Stories 2.1a, episode 1: The Hanging Gardens Of Babylon
Well now, this is... different. It's probably best classed as a Companion Chronicle, but it has elements of narrated soundtrack too; and there are three narrators, which is common to neither format. William Russell and Carole Ann Ford are back, along with the multitalented John Dorney (who we haven't encountered before on this marathon, but who has written or starred in some of the best-received Big Finish audios). I'd expected them to divide up the roles - Russell playing Ian and the Doctor, Ford playing Susan and Barbara, all three the supporting cast - but it doesn't work like that. Dorney plays only one character - Alexander of Macedon - and the other two take it in turns to narrate the story. It seems a bit bizarre when Russell is doing the Doctor's voice one minute, Ford the next, and it threw me at the start; but after a while I became used to it, and by the end I hardly noticed.
So, why hasn't this been written to conform more to the normal rules of a Companion Chronicle? Because - and this is the exciting bit for me - the script is an adaptation to audio of an actual TV script from 1964. This shows, in both good and bad ways. As accurate a tribute to the timeframe as Transit of Venus undoubtedly is, this is closer. But more on that later; I want to look at how that script plays out.
The opening scene in the TARDIS gave me a bit of a sense of déjà vu. The ship is suffering from a power drain caused by the fuel running out - didn't we just go through this with Leif Ericsson? Of course, they couldn't have known I would be listening to this just after reading a story written much later, and they give less detail this time, which makes it work better. So it's not too bad - until Susan decides they must have died. Because of the heavenly music she's hearing. I'm sorry, but what?! They then step out onto an alien world where the plants make music, and at this point I stop to check that I haven't put the wrong CD in. But no, this isn't The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance; and actually there is a myth-historical explanation. Still, combined with the disorientating way the story is narrated, it definitely gets off on the wrong foot.
Things improve dramatically once we move outside. Iananbarbara together figure out where they are, we are introduced to four conspirators who look like they are going to be driving the plot, the Doctor has an amusing encounter with a prophet, and then we meet Dorney's Alexander and his companions. It's a scene-setting episode where little actually happens, but that doesn't matter - the dialogue is good, the scenario intriguing (pun intended) and the characters well-rounded.
One thing I've noticed a lot lately is how I imagine visuals to go along with the audio (or even the text in some cases). Here I can picture a very appropriate black-and-white view. When Barbara looked through the gate at the sea of tents on the plain outside the city, I even saw it as a painted backdrop! This would all have been filmable in Lime Grove Studio D, and although there could have been some problems making the Hanging Gardens realistic - they might have ended up more like the screaming jungle on Marinus - it is obviously a script written for television of the time.
So, a good recovery after the rocky start. I'm definitely interested, and with the next episode following on straight after this one on the CD I had to use quite some willpower to stick to my "one episode a day" rule.
Development of a Script, Part 1: Sign of the Times
These sections are going to appear in a somewhat odd order, but bear with me. While adapting the TV script for audio Nigel Robinson noticed a scene at the start that didn't really fit: the travellers begin their adventure strapped to a machine that teaches them multiple languages, thus explaining how they can speak ancient Greek. In some ways it's a neat idea, and it's certainly the sort of thing early Who did quite often; but the translation has been explained differently since and so it would have created a barrier to acceptance of the story for modern listeners. It also doesn't explain how Iananbarbara could talk to the cave people of The Tribe of Gum, so I think it's better avoided.
Rating:
5/10.
Next Time:
It's quite exhilarating listening to a proper serial again; I hadn't realised quite how much I was missing it. On to episode 2, O, Son! My Son!
So, why hasn't this been written to conform more to the normal rules of a Companion Chronicle? Because - and this is the exciting bit for me - the script is an adaptation to audio of an actual TV script from 1964. This shows, in both good and bad ways. As accurate a tribute to the timeframe as Transit of Venus undoubtedly is, this is closer. But more on that later; I want to look at how that script plays out.
The opening scene in the TARDIS gave me a bit of a sense of déjà vu. The ship is suffering from a power drain caused by the fuel running out - didn't we just go through this with Leif Ericsson? Of course, they couldn't have known I would be listening to this just after reading a story written much later, and they give less detail this time, which makes it work better. So it's not too bad - until Susan decides they must have died. Because of the heavenly music she's hearing. I'm sorry, but what?! They then step out onto an alien world where the plants make music, and at this point I stop to check that I haven't put the wrong CD in. But no, this isn't The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance; and actually there is a myth-historical explanation. Still, combined with the disorientating way the story is narrated, it definitely gets off on the wrong foot.
Things improve dramatically once we move outside. Iananbarbara together figure out where they are, we are introduced to four conspirators who look like they are going to be driving the plot, the Doctor has an amusing encounter with a prophet, and then we meet Dorney's Alexander and his companions. It's a scene-setting episode where little actually happens, but that doesn't matter - the dialogue is good, the scenario intriguing (pun intended) and the characters well-rounded.
One thing I've noticed a lot lately is how I imagine visuals to go along with the audio (or even the text in some cases). Here I can picture a very appropriate black-and-white view. When Barbara looked through the gate at the sea of tents on the plain outside the city, I even saw it as a painted backdrop! This would all have been filmable in Lime Grove Studio D, and although there could have been some problems making the Hanging Gardens realistic - they might have ended up more like the screaming jungle on Marinus - it is obviously a script written for television of the time.
So, a good recovery after the rocky start. I'm definitely interested, and with the next episode following on straight after this one on the CD I had to use quite some willpower to stick to my "one episode a day" rule.
Development of a Script, Part 1: Sign of the Times
These sections are going to appear in a somewhat odd order, but bear with me. While adapting the TV script for audio Nigel Robinson noticed a scene at the start that didn't really fit: the travellers begin their adventure strapped to a machine that teaches them multiple languages, thus explaining how they can speak ancient Greek. In some ways it's a neat idea, and it's certainly the sort of thing early Who did quite often; but the translation has been explained differently since and so it would have created a barrier to acceptance of the story for modern listeners. It also doesn't explain how Iananbarbara could talk to the cave people of The Tribe of Gum, so I think it's better avoided.
Rating:
5/10.
Next Time:
It's quite exhilarating listening to a proper serial again; I hadn't realised quite how much I was missing it. On to episode 2, O, Son! My Son!
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
Short Trips and Sidesteps 3.12: Dr Who and the House on Oldark Moor, by Justin Richards
When we last left Dr Who, he and his granddaughters, along with Barbara's clumsy boyfriend Ian, had escaped the Daleks but ended up nearly trampled by Roman soldiers. I don't know what happens next, but after leaving ancient Rome they try to get home, and end up on a fog-shrouded moor - listening to the baying of a distant hound...
Richards has captured the character of the Amicus movie cast beautifully here. I can see Roy Castle pratfalling his way through the story and Peter Cushing as Dr Who doddering along, while Roberta Tovey's Susy Who calmly holds it all together. As usual Jennie Linden's Barbara gets to stand around modelling 1960s fashion and be ineffectually concerned about people, but at least she does it in a way that is consistent with the film!
Sticking with the visual analogy - and this is a very visual story - it seems that Cushing gets to play two roles, since he also appears as Count Tarkin. The name may be a bit of a clue to what is going on here: this is a tribute to Cushing, referencing his appearances in film over his career. And what a career it was! How many actors can claim to have appeared as Doctor Who, Sherlock Holmes and Baron von Frankenstein, as well as having significant roles in Star Wars and Dracula films? His main staple was horror, but he'd lend his talents to a far wider range of films and hated the idea of being typecast.
As you might expect, though, this story is primarily a pastiche of Hammer horror; even the Sherlock Holmes story referenced is The Hound of the Baskervilles, probably the closest to traditional horror. As such, it is more the sort of thing you might expect from the Hinchcliffe/Holmes era. Which suits me, to be honest.
It's Thingy, from That Other Program, Part 2: Roy Castle
Because I'm unlikely to get another opportunity I'd also like to say a little about the actor who plays parallel Ian. As a child I remember Castle mainly from The Record Breakers, a long-running Friday night show. The best bit of the programme for me was when there was a live attempt at breaking a record (I have actually taken part in one successful world record attempt, but since it was of the "most people doing X at the same time" sort there's not much kudos). He presented the show from its inception in 1972 until shortly before his death from lung cancer in 1994, less than a month after Cushing died from prostate cancer. Castle's illness was caused by passive smoking during his career as a jazz trumpet player; he became a strong advocate of clean air, and I remember clearly when he refused to shake Maggie Thatcher's hand because of her involvement with tobacco company Philip Morris. It made a big impression on me, even though I was never a tobacco smoker myself. My mum had great difficulty giving up when she was pregnant with me, and although she accepted that cigarettes were what got her through the war she made it very plain that she thought they were terrible things. Never much of a rebel, I happily went along with this until I could make my own mind up.
Published:
Date: March 2000
ISBN: 0-563-55599-8
Rating:
7.5/10.
Next Time:
And that's enough reading for now. Let's leave the Cushingverse for a while and switch on the audio as we take a trip to The Hanging Gardens of Babylon...
Richards has captured the character of the Amicus movie cast beautifully here. I can see Roy Castle pratfalling his way through the story and Peter Cushing as Dr Who doddering along, while Roberta Tovey's Susy Who calmly holds it all together. As usual Jennie Linden's Barbara gets to stand around modelling 1960s fashion and be ineffectually concerned about people, but at least she does it in a way that is consistent with the film!
Sticking with the visual analogy - and this is a very visual story - it seems that Cushing gets to play two roles, since he also appears as Count Tarkin. The name may be a bit of a clue to what is going on here: this is a tribute to Cushing, referencing his appearances in film over his career. And what a career it was! How many actors can claim to have appeared as Doctor Who, Sherlock Holmes and Baron von Frankenstein, as well as having significant roles in Star Wars and Dracula films? His main staple was horror, but he'd lend his talents to a far wider range of films and hated the idea of being typecast.
As you might expect, though, this story is primarily a pastiche of Hammer horror; even the Sherlock Holmes story referenced is The Hound of the Baskervilles, probably the closest to traditional horror. As such, it is more the sort of thing you might expect from the Hinchcliffe/Holmes era. Which suits me, to be honest.
It's Thingy, from That Other Program, Part 2: Roy Castle
Because I'm unlikely to get another opportunity I'd also like to say a little about the actor who plays parallel Ian. As a child I remember Castle mainly from The Record Breakers, a long-running Friday night show. The best bit of the programme for me was when there was a live attempt at breaking a record (I have actually taken part in one successful world record attempt, but since it was of the "most people doing X at the same time" sort there's not much kudos). He presented the show from its inception in 1972 until shortly before his death from lung cancer in 1994, less than a month after Cushing died from prostate cancer. Castle's illness was caused by passive smoking during his career as a jazz trumpet player; he became a strong advocate of clean air, and I remember clearly when he refused to shake Maggie Thatcher's hand because of her involvement with tobacco company Philip Morris. It made a big impression on me, even though I was never a tobacco smoker myself. My mum had great difficulty giving up when she was pregnant with me, and although she accepted that cigarettes were what got her through the war she made it very plain that she thought they were terrible things. Never much of a rebel, I happily went along with this until I could make my own mind up.
Published:
Date: March 2000
ISBN: 0-563-55599-8
Rating:
7.5/10.
Next Time:
And that's enough reading for now. Let's leave the Cushingverse for a while and switch on the audio as we take a trip to The Hanging Gardens of Babylon...
Monday, 23 January 2012
DWM 200: Rennigan's Record, by David Whitaker
DWM 200 was the other issue I was given for Christmas, and I'd been beginning to think I'd never get a copy. I first bought it on eBay almost a year ago. The parcel arrived, and before I'd even opened it I put it down in order to do something with the children. When I looked again later that day it wasn't where I thought I had left it; and despite a spring clean since then, it's never reappeared. Later someone on Gallifrey Base was advertising DWMs for sale, including issue 200. I arranged to buy it (and 11 others) - and then he found his copy had gone missing. Third time was the charm, though, and now I have it in my grubby little mitts. I really should change when I come in from playing in the snow...
Ahem. Anyway, here's another good writer trying his hand at a short story: original script editor David Whitaker. Will he prove as much of a disaster as John Lucarotti? Let's find out.
First impressions again: it's seven pages of small print, so it has a chance of being a bit meatier. Paul Vyse is the artist once more, and this time he does a much better job. There's one substandard picture of Barbara and Susan, but the rest are good - and I like the way he models Rennigan on Whitaker. A nice touch. The introduction tells us that this is Whitaker's only known unpublished story and that it's being presented unedited. I can understand why but even the best writers need editing, so this may not be a good thing.
Without giving too much away, the story is the recorded diary of an astronaut, the only survivor of a spaceship crash on Mars, as he awaits rescue or (more likely) death. The setting is interesting: it's 1994, and nobody has managed to land on Mars even though there are already colonies on Venus. This echoes real-world problems with our attempts to investigate the red planet, which were plagued with technical problems that resulted in many lost probes. As such it has one foot in the real world and another in golden age SF; in fact, other than the presence of a breathable atmosphere on Mars, it's only the mentions of Venus that keep it from being a fairly hard SF story. The brief mentions of astronaut life reminded me of Stephen Baxter's Voyage, a contrafactual account of NASA's first Mars mission, though of course the detail is missing. Once again there are educational elements, including a section very reminiscent of a scene in Marco Polo; but they don't intrude.
The prose is easy to read, straightforward rather than lilting and lyrical like Rise and Fall, and this is in keeping with the diary of a scientist. The timing is interesting - Rennigan is talking about events a couple of days in the past, but as we hear more daily entries the reported time catches up with the reporting time. It's a neat touch.
Not much actually happens in the story; but that's fine, because it's primarily about Rennigan's thoughts. My problem with it, however, is that the Doctor and his companions are following a plan that depends heavily on the astronaut suffering from a very specific delusion, and not figuring this out despite some clear evidence. This is a bit of a killer for me, which unfortunately undoes a lot of the good things I've said about it. Still, it's a considerable step up from Who Discovered America?, which is a relief.
Oh, and there's a bit where the Doctor is talking about the ancient inhabitants of Mars, which (with my knowledge of future stories) I found quite amusing. It's not like the Ice Warriors I remember!
The Diary Entries
Wait, there's more! In the same issue there are three diary entries, one for each of the companions. These are brief, and all relate to moments in Earth's history. Each saves the surprise of the exact moment until the end, and it would be a shame to spoil it. I will note, though, that I can't see them fitting into the broader Whoniverse; two feel more like plots from a TV Comic story, and the third provides an explanation for an event that has been explained in at least four other contradictory ways (once on television and thrice in books), and has been blamed on each of the first three Doctors! Still, they are amusing bits of fluff in an issue that is devoted to Whitaker, and I would recommend the magazine for anyone interested in an overview of his work on Who.
Published:
Date: 9th June 1993
ISBN: 0957-5618
Rating:
4.5/10.
Next Time:
About time for a step sideways, so let's make a brief visit to The House on Oldark Moor...
Ahem. Anyway, here's another good writer trying his hand at a short story: original script editor David Whitaker. Will he prove as much of a disaster as John Lucarotti? Let's find out.
First impressions again: it's seven pages of small print, so it has a chance of being a bit meatier. Paul Vyse is the artist once more, and this time he does a much better job. There's one substandard picture of Barbara and Susan, but the rest are good - and I like the way he models Rennigan on Whitaker. A nice touch. The introduction tells us that this is Whitaker's only known unpublished story and that it's being presented unedited. I can understand why but even the best writers need editing, so this may not be a good thing.
Without giving too much away, the story is the recorded diary of an astronaut, the only survivor of a spaceship crash on Mars, as he awaits rescue or (more likely) death. The setting is interesting: it's 1994, and nobody has managed to land on Mars even though there are already colonies on Venus. This echoes real-world problems with our attempts to investigate the red planet, which were plagued with technical problems that resulted in many lost probes. As such it has one foot in the real world and another in golden age SF; in fact, other than the presence of a breathable atmosphere on Mars, it's only the mentions of Venus that keep it from being a fairly hard SF story. The brief mentions of astronaut life reminded me of Stephen Baxter's Voyage, a contrafactual account of NASA's first Mars mission, though of course the detail is missing. Once again there are educational elements, including a section very reminiscent of a scene in Marco Polo; but they don't intrude.
The prose is easy to read, straightforward rather than lilting and lyrical like Rise and Fall, and this is in keeping with the diary of a scientist. The timing is interesting - Rennigan is talking about events a couple of days in the past, but as we hear more daily entries the reported time catches up with the reporting time. It's a neat touch.
Not much actually happens in the story; but that's fine, because it's primarily about Rennigan's thoughts. My problem with it, however, is that the Doctor and his companions are following a plan that depends heavily on the astronaut suffering from a very specific delusion, and not figuring this out despite some clear evidence. This is a bit of a killer for me, which unfortunately undoes a lot of the good things I've said about it. Still, it's a considerable step up from Who Discovered America?, which is a relief.
Oh, and there's a bit where the Doctor is talking about the ancient inhabitants of Mars, which (with my knowledge of future stories) I found quite amusing. It's not like the Ice Warriors I remember!
The Diary Entries
Wait, there's more! In the same issue there are three diary entries, one for each of the companions. These are brief, and all relate to moments in Earth's history. Each saves the surprise of the exact moment until the end, and it would be a shame to spoil it. I will note, though, that I can't see them fitting into the broader Whoniverse; two feel more like plots from a TV Comic story, and the third provides an explanation for an event that has been explained in at least four other contradictory ways (once on television and thrice in books), and has been blamed on each of the first three Doctors! Still, they are amusing bits of fluff in an issue that is devoted to Whitaker, and I would recommend the magazine for anyone interested in an overview of his work on Who.
Published:
Date: 9th June 1993
ISBN: 0957-5618
Rating:
4.5/10.
Next Time:
About time for a step sideways, so let's make a brief visit to The House on Oldark Moor...
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