Right. I can't go any further into the review without talking about Barbara. If the story of Who to this point can be said to be about anybody, it has been about her. She has changed and grown far more than the others - the opposite pole to the Doctor's own development over the first three serials; driving the plot in The Aztecs; her growing emotional involvement in her travels in The Reign of Terror, Farewell, Great Macedon and here. Had these last two stories been shown on the telly at the time I would have said that she had more emotional development in one year than any other classic TV companion, with the possible exceptions of Ace in her last five stories (which, as I've argued before, mirror season 1 in more than one respect) or - stretching a point - Mike Yates in the run from The Green Death to Planet of the Spiders. This may be a function of the marathon, and I may see it in others as I progress; but even if I do the development of Barbara can still be held up as a fine example.
And yet, in the midst of all this change, she is the rock-solid emotional anchor of the team. There was talk at one point of getting rid of Barbara in the final story of the first production run - the upcoming Return of the Daleks - and presumably this was because Hill wasn't sure if she wanted to commit to more; but I am very glad she did. The show isn't ready to be without her, not yet.
So, imagine listening to this story without future knowledge. There is that doubt, kept bubbling for most of the story, over whether Barbara will stay on Fragrance. To begin with there's the "does she, doesn't she?" question: whether she loves Rhythm as a friend, or as something more. Ian's relief on learning the answer is palpable, and it occurs to me that their chaste love for each other - sometimes held up as a fan theory imposed on the era from the viewpoint of later years - is here acknowledged by a writer in 1964. One can only imagine what Ian would be like if, say, she had died of radiation poisoning as a result of their exposure on Skaro!
The tension (for both Ian and listener) continues as Barbara learns of the consequences for Rhythm should she leave, and everyone awaits her decision. Then - just as in Farewell, Great Macedon - the Doctor overrules her. This time it is more than just the arrogance of patriarchy, because it was held out that she actually had a choice. We are left in the uncomfortable position of feeling relief at a betrayal of trust, of being glad that Barbara had her freedom of choice taken away. It's not very flattering: we want her to stay, and are willing to sanction almost anything to keep her with us despite her own nobility. How selfish is that, compared to what she was prepared to sacrifice?
And then, kidnapped by the Doctor for the second time, she gets to watch the man who declared his love for her burn. A man she was prepared to give up everything for, not because she was in love with him but because it was the right thing to do. Now, that's hard.
A Confused Chronology, part 3: When Did They Visit Fragrance?
As a pair these audios do fit nicely into the inter-season gap, but which comes first? I can see why this is the second story in the boxset. It's very much the lesser attraction - single-episode, not one of the (now) highly-regarded historicals, never intended for broadcast. Its length also means that there's plenty of space on the disk for the extras, which should be heard after the stories. Unfortunately, this placement on the final disk means that most timelines, by default, set it chronologically after Farewell, Great Macedon. Having heard it I would say that it works better before: that way, the events here can inform Barbara's desperate need to leave before Alexander dies.
Rating:
5.5/10.
Next Time:
Very much sideways for Jim Mortimore's self-published PDA, Campaign.
Wednesday, 15 February 2012
Monday, 13 February 2012
The Lost Stories 2.1b: The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance
Like Rise and Fall, this is a lyrical story that would never have worked on TV. It has the pacing and experimental nature of Who in 1964, while requiring colour and 21st century CGI to realise effectively. But then, it was never written to be made...
So far as I can tell, this is a tale like no other in Who. For one thing, love stories are few and far between - the closest in tone that I can think of being Autumn from the Circular Time audio - and surreally symbolic stories are just about equally rare. I've never come across the combination before.
Still, before I dive too much into the writing (which will be the focus for most of this review) I want to take a look at the audio production.
First, let me say how pleased I am that Carole Ann Ford is given more of a chance to use her particular talents than was the case during the previous story. It balances things up a little, and while the ideal reader here would, of course, be the much-missed Jacqueline Hill, Ford makes the most of the opportunity and impresses. William Russell holds his own as always, but for once he has the less interesting material to work with. John Dorney's Rhythm is quite different from Alexander, much younger in terms of experience; and he's joined here by Helen Goldwyn as Melody and Harmony. The extra performer, combined with a smaller cast to begin with, means that this feels closer to a full-cast production.
The music is very good - better here than in the historical, in my opinion - and although there are a couple of occasions where it's somewhat over-egged (such as when Iamb asks to look closer at the console) it does a fine job of setting the atmosphere.
On to the story, then, and I'd like to get the bad stuff out of the way. I mentioned that Russell drew the short straw for interesting material, and that's because he's narrating the parts where the Doctor is showing off his ship, and describing the workings in excruciating detail, much to Ian's concern. It's this aspect of the story that is by far the weakest: true, it sets up a pleasing contrast between the sciencey TARDIS scenes and the lyrical external ones; but unfortunately the clunky nature of the explanations just drags things down.
Explanations are going on outside, too, but in a much more artful manner. Susan echoes the audience's confusion as Melody and Harmony explain about the Fragile Yellow Arc, but - unusually - she is shown to be smart about it, grasping the concepts, turning them over in her mind and arguing with them intelligently. It's one of the better stories for the Doctor's granddaughter.
I'll also praise the characterisation of the inhabitants of Fragrance. They are alien, yet with recognisable motives. When Rhythm's mother Rhyme declares her intent to stop the travellers leaving you can feel her desperation. There's no evil behind it, just maternal love; and Rhythm's nobility in response is heart-rending. People sometimes complain about the degree to which Russell T. Davies knowingly pulls on his audience's emotional strings, but by golly he wasn't the first! This is potent stuff.
Let's see, I've mentioned Ian, Susan, the Doctor, the TARDIS and the locals. I've got a feeling that I'm missing someone, but I can't put my finger on who. Ah well, they probably weren't important to the story.
Development of a Script, Part 7: On Spec
When Moris Farhi was trying to get work at the BBC through David Whitaker, the script editor was already impressed with Farhi's writing and didn't want him to spend his time producing a sample script for nothing. Instead, Whitaker arranged a meeting with the writer and then agreed with Head of Drama Donald Wilson that they would offer to pay Farhi £50 for a single trial script. Not being privy to this discussion, Farhi decided that he would write a sample episode anyway, and did so over the four days prior to the meeting. That script was The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance.
Whitaker's eye for talent combined with Farhi's over-enthusiasm has made this is one of the best fifty quid the BBC spent. The corporation got a good writer on board (Farhi later wrote for Paul Temple, The Onedin Line and other BBC productions), and we got seven episodes of classic Hartnell-era Who.
Next Time:
More of the same, but this time focusing on a missing piece at the heart of the puzzle...
So far as I can tell, this is a tale like no other in Who. For one thing, love stories are few and far between - the closest in tone that I can think of being Autumn from the Circular Time audio - and surreally symbolic stories are just about equally rare. I've never come across the combination before.
Still, before I dive too much into the writing (which will be the focus for most of this review) I want to take a look at the audio production.
First, let me say how pleased I am that Carole Ann Ford is given more of a chance to use her particular talents than was the case during the previous story. It balances things up a little, and while the ideal reader here would, of course, be the much-missed Jacqueline Hill, Ford makes the most of the opportunity and impresses. William Russell holds his own as always, but for once he has the less interesting material to work with. John Dorney's Rhythm is quite different from Alexander, much younger in terms of experience; and he's joined here by Helen Goldwyn as Melody and Harmony. The extra performer, combined with a smaller cast to begin with, means that this feels closer to a full-cast production.
The music is very good - better here than in the historical, in my opinion - and although there are a couple of occasions where it's somewhat over-egged (such as when Iamb asks to look closer at the console) it does a fine job of setting the atmosphere.
On to the story, then, and I'd like to get the bad stuff out of the way. I mentioned that Russell drew the short straw for interesting material, and that's because he's narrating the parts where the Doctor is showing off his ship, and describing the workings in excruciating detail, much to Ian's concern. It's this aspect of the story that is by far the weakest: true, it sets up a pleasing contrast between the sciencey TARDIS scenes and the lyrical external ones; but unfortunately the clunky nature of the explanations just drags things down.
Explanations are going on outside, too, but in a much more artful manner. Susan echoes the audience's confusion as Melody and Harmony explain about the Fragile Yellow Arc, but - unusually - she is shown to be smart about it, grasping the concepts, turning them over in her mind and arguing with them intelligently. It's one of the better stories for the Doctor's granddaughter.
I'll also praise the characterisation of the inhabitants of Fragrance. They are alien, yet with recognisable motives. When Rhythm's mother Rhyme declares her intent to stop the travellers leaving you can feel her desperation. There's no evil behind it, just maternal love; and Rhythm's nobility in response is heart-rending. People sometimes complain about the degree to which Russell T. Davies knowingly pulls on his audience's emotional strings, but by golly he wasn't the first! This is potent stuff.
Let's see, I've mentioned Ian, Susan, the Doctor, the TARDIS and the locals. I've got a feeling that I'm missing someone, but I can't put my finger on who. Ah well, they probably weren't important to the story.
Development of a Script, Part 7: On Spec
When Moris Farhi was trying to get work at the BBC through David Whitaker, the script editor was already impressed with Farhi's writing and didn't want him to spend his time producing a sample script for nothing. Instead, Whitaker arranged a meeting with the writer and then agreed with Head of Drama Donald Wilson that they would offer to pay Farhi £50 for a single trial script. Not being privy to this discussion, Farhi decided that he would write a sample episode anyway, and did so over the four days prior to the meeting. That script was The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance.
Whitaker's eye for talent combined with Farhi's over-enthusiasm has made this is one of the best fifty quid the BBC spent. The corporation got a good writer on board (Farhi later wrote for Paul Temple, The Onedin Line and other BBC productions), and we got seven episodes of classic Hartnell-era Who.
Next Time:
More of the same, but this time focusing on a missing piece at the heart of the puzzle...
Friday, 10 February 2012
The Lost Stories 2.1a: Farewell, Great Macedon
An Expanding Universe, Part 7: The Lost Stories
As mentioned before, we fans have an insatiable appetite for Who. There are many scripts that were not made for one reason or another, and in a couple of cases there are whole missing seasons, with scripts in various states of completion from "just an idea" to "ready for submission". It seemed a natural idea to recreate the stories originally intended for Colin Baker's season 23, which had got quite far before the BBC decided to "rest" the show. For various reasons not all the stories could be made, and Big Finish decided to widen the net to include scripts submitted for season 22 - and after that, once it looked like the idea was workable, to follow on with missing stories for other Doctors. This is the first such story, in a boxset containing two.
After finishing up my episode reviews for this serial but before writing up this overview, I listened to the fourth disk of the boxset. As well as the story I will be reviewing next it had some interviews with the cast and crew, like many of the Companion Chronicles. I've already made use of the sleeve notes; I'll address some of the issues raised in the discussions here.
I found it interesting that Moris Farhi was writing during the broadcast of Marco Polo, and that he watched it to get the 'feel' right. In retrospect I can see some similarities of style - particularly with the way the educational elements are included, and the emphasis on interaction over action - but the structure of the two stories are very different, so Farhi was obviously not just cribbing!
As with John Lucarotti's first missing story, I experienced each episode twice before moving on to the next; though in the absence of a recon it was audio both times for this one. On first listen I just enjoyed the experience, leaving the note-taking to the second run-through. This was just the way it turned out for The Hanging Gardens of Babylon but since it worked well I decided to carry on. I'll be doing my note-taking run for the next story when I've finished this entry.
Something I notice in retrospect is that there are not many women in the story. Unless I'm mistaken only Roxane has a speaking role (other than Susan, Barbara and the 'Greek Chorus' at the start). I can't say that it bothered me, but it does give Carole Ann Ford a harder time in the narration.
I was not happy about the view of history expounded here, particularly in light of later developments (and specifically a novel I will be tackling about 14 instalments from now). But then I thought about unreliable narrators. What if this is what Susan has been taught? The Doctor's concerned attitude upon hearing about Alexander's death date works just as well if he is worried about being caught out in a lie.
The details of the Doctor's past don't have any such get-out clause (or at least, none I've spotted). This is probably the weakest aspect of the story for me, and I suspect David Whitaker would have excised much of it.
Apparently, the intent was for the music to match the period. It does in places, but this was, I feel, not an unqualified success.
I don't really have anything else to add. It's a great story, and congratulations to all involved with finally bringing it back to life; you have my thanks. Farewell, Farewell Great Macedon!
Published:
Date: November 2010
ISBN: 978-1-84435-452-8
Rating:
As an average 8/10, but I might be inclined to boost that by half a mark since the first episode suffered unfairly from me getting used to the style of presentation. Oh heck, why not?
8.5/10.
Next Time:
As mentioned, the second story in the set: The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance.
As mentioned before, we fans have an insatiable appetite for Who. There are many scripts that were not made for one reason or another, and in a couple of cases there are whole missing seasons, with scripts in various states of completion from "just an idea" to "ready for submission". It seemed a natural idea to recreate the stories originally intended for Colin Baker's season 23, which had got quite far before the BBC decided to "rest" the show. For various reasons not all the stories could be made, and Big Finish decided to widen the net to include scripts submitted for season 22 - and after that, once it looked like the idea was workable, to follow on with missing stories for other Doctors. This is the first such story, in a boxset containing two.
After finishing up my episode reviews for this serial but before writing up this overview, I listened to the fourth disk of the boxset. As well as the story I will be reviewing next it had some interviews with the cast and crew, like many of the Companion Chronicles. I've already made use of the sleeve notes; I'll address some of the issues raised in the discussions here.
I found it interesting that Moris Farhi was writing during the broadcast of Marco Polo, and that he watched it to get the 'feel' right. In retrospect I can see some similarities of style - particularly with the way the educational elements are included, and the emphasis on interaction over action - but the structure of the two stories are very different, so Farhi was obviously not just cribbing!
As with John Lucarotti's first missing story, I experienced each episode twice before moving on to the next; though in the absence of a recon it was audio both times for this one. On first listen I just enjoyed the experience, leaving the note-taking to the second run-through. This was just the way it turned out for The Hanging Gardens of Babylon but since it worked well I decided to carry on. I'll be doing my note-taking run for the next story when I've finished this entry.
Something I notice in retrospect is that there are not many women in the story. Unless I'm mistaken only Roxane has a speaking role (other than Susan, Barbara and the 'Greek Chorus' at the start). I can't say that it bothered me, but it does give Carole Ann Ford a harder time in the narration.
I was not happy about the view of history expounded here, particularly in light of later developments (and specifically a novel I will be tackling about 14 instalments from now). But then I thought about unreliable narrators. What if this is what Susan has been taught? The Doctor's concerned attitude upon hearing about Alexander's death date works just as well if he is worried about being caught out in a lie.
The details of the Doctor's past don't have any such get-out clause (or at least, none I've spotted). This is probably the weakest aspect of the story for me, and I suspect David Whitaker would have excised much of it.
Apparently, the intent was for the music to match the period. It does in places, but this was, I feel, not an unqualified success.
I don't really have anything else to add. It's a great story, and congratulations to all involved with finally bringing it back to life; you have my thanks. Farewell, Farewell Great Macedon!
Published:
Date: November 2010
ISBN: 978-1-84435-452-8
Rating:
As an average 8/10, but I might be inclined to boost that by half a mark since the first episode suffered unfairly from me getting used to the style of presentation. Oh heck, why not?
8.5/10.
Next Time:
As mentioned, the second story in the set: The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance.
Wednesday, 8 February 2012
The Lost Stories 2.1a, episode 6: Farewell, Great Macedon!
And so we reach the finale, which - as I'd hoped - is a sweeping tragedy: there is little action, but it's nothing less than brilliant. Not everything is perfect, of course; the music in this episode stood out as being not of the time, and there are some other details I'll come to in what is perhaps the most linear of my reviews for this story, and certainly the longest; but overall a worthy conclusion.
To begin, the fight between Ian and Seleucus is good, well-choreographed - and no doubt filmed at Ealing. Seleucus is pretty stupid to show such bad grace in defeat, and Antipater is sensible to worry about what else the big man might have revealed.
And then Alexander asks the travellers to stay a little longer - and Barbara doesn't want to. This is a tiny scene, but full of significance. It's typical that Barbara's desire to leave is overridden without discussion - some things never change - but her desperation marks the culmination of a gradual alteration in her perception of her travels. In The Aztecs she found out the hard way that history cannot be changed; and during The Reign of Terror she learned to see the ordinary people of the past as real, while still engaging in a little historical tourism with Napoleon. Now she can finally feel in her heart that famous figures are human, too. She is completely involved, with no trace of her original detachment - and she doesn't like it. She wants to run away from the death of someone she has grown to think of as a friend (a feeling that I can relate to, for reasons that you will hear a lot about if I keep going into the Fourth Doctor's time). Some might call it moral cowardice, but to me it's just human.
Pulling back the focus, we move on to Antipater's show trial. John Dorney's performance here is notable because of the way he allows Alexander to weaken gradually, and not evenly - the great man rallies when he is fired up, and slumps in the more extended, intellectual monologues. Still, the king manages to put forward quite a case against his prime suspect, and I was looking forward to Antipater's riposte. Seleucus's move to cut short the proceedings surprised me, but this is one time the reluctant conspirator made a sensible decision. With his options running out it was pretty much the only hope he had.
And that's really the end of the conspiracy. Oh, Seleucus will be one of the generals squabbling over the empire by the end of the episode, but from now on it's down to history and the travellers' part in it.
In the time since Barbara's plea to leave was ignored she has expended some effort in explaining why she wanted to go, and the differing reactions of her companions are telling. Susan argues that "history protects itself, we can no more change the past than we can the future" - which not only smacks of predestination, but also provides precious little comfort! Ian, on the other hand, doubts both the women, and dreams of a better future (or should I say a better past?) - like Barbara, because he's become involved. The Doctor's reaction is the most telling of all: we learn that he actually took the Hippocratic Oath when he was a medical student, before he became more interested in science, and that overrules his prohibition on trying to change history. In fact, Barbara and the Doctor have reversed their roles since the time of Yetaxa.
As usual, the Doctor is the one who gets to do what he wants, and as a result I found out how an iron lung works; but it is on the conversations with the dying Alexander that the focus now lies. His description of his dream of the marriage of East and West made me think of Martin Luther King - and in particular the Strawbs' song, Martin Luther King's Dream. The Doctor declares that mankind will not achieve unity for 3000 years, which is around 2,700AD - when on the verge of exterminating each other. Checking out Ahistory I think he's a couple of centuries late there, but who's gonna quibble? The point is that the king's new friends bring him down at the end; dramatically appropriate, but horrendously thoughtless. I'm not surprised that Alexander takes a leaf from Calanus's book and decides to die.
Everything from this point on is, effectively, tying things up. We get to meet Roxane at last, and in doing so I can finally banish the echo of Police front man Sting from my mind, though as a final insult to my ears Big Finish turn the volume right up on the line "You have left the world TO THE VULTURES!"; too loud, man.
Then there's a nice little scene with Alexander's faithful guard which made me say, "oh, that Ptolemy!"; a smart man, who I imagine (semi-appropriately) portrayed by Roy Stewart in a speaking role at last. And then there's the reference to the Library of Alexandria while standing in the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, which is another neat touch.
But it's getting very close to the end of the story so we're off again, and our heroes decide to examine the scanner. In transit. How weird is that, and how can it possibly work? Even ignoring the technical details, I can't help but think that the well-described view of Alexander's funeral would have been a disappointment on screen. Still, 48 years on, that's an irrelevant detail; and on audio, it's a great way to go out.
Development of a Script, Part 6: Publishing the Unproduced
I love Doctor Who fans, don't you? Always keen to extract the maximum they can from the show that obsesses them. Well, that describes me, anyway, and it explains why there is a market for the script to an unmade fortysomething-year-old TV drama. The publishers of the Nothing at the End of the Lane magazine made the script available in print, along with a number of accompanying articles, here - I haven't bought it, but I have read the sample PDF and it seems very well put together. If I didn't have so much other Who stuff to buy I'd be tempted.
Rating:
9/10.
Next Time:
The serial as a whole.
To begin, the fight between Ian and Seleucus is good, well-choreographed - and no doubt filmed at Ealing. Seleucus is pretty stupid to show such bad grace in defeat, and Antipater is sensible to worry about what else the big man might have revealed.
And then Alexander asks the travellers to stay a little longer - and Barbara doesn't want to. This is a tiny scene, but full of significance. It's typical that Barbara's desire to leave is overridden without discussion - some things never change - but her desperation marks the culmination of a gradual alteration in her perception of her travels. In The Aztecs she found out the hard way that history cannot be changed; and during The Reign of Terror she learned to see the ordinary people of the past as real, while still engaging in a little historical tourism with Napoleon. Now she can finally feel in her heart that famous figures are human, too. She is completely involved, with no trace of her original detachment - and she doesn't like it. She wants to run away from the death of someone she has grown to think of as a friend (a feeling that I can relate to, for reasons that you will hear a lot about if I keep going into the Fourth Doctor's time). Some might call it moral cowardice, but to me it's just human.
Pulling back the focus, we move on to Antipater's show trial. John Dorney's performance here is notable because of the way he allows Alexander to weaken gradually, and not evenly - the great man rallies when he is fired up, and slumps in the more extended, intellectual monologues. Still, the king manages to put forward quite a case against his prime suspect, and I was looking forward to Antipater's riposte. Seleucus's move to cut short the proceedings surprised me, but this is one time the reluctant conspirator made a sensible decision. With his options running out it was pretty much the only hope he had.
And that's really the end of the conspiracy. Oh, Seleucus will be one of the generals squabbling over the empire by the end of the episode, but from now on it's down to history and the travellers' part in it.
In the time since Barbara's plea to leave was ignored she has expended some effort in explaining why she wanted to go, and the differing reactions of her companions are telling. Susan argues that "history protects itself, we can no more change the past than we can the future" - which not only smacks of predestination, but also provides precious little comfort! Ian, on the other hand, doubts both the women, and dreams of a better future (or should I say a better past?) - like Barbara, because he's become involved. The Doctor's reaction is the most telling of all: we learn that he actually took the Hippocratic Oath when he was a medical student, before he became more interested in science, and that overrules his prohibition on trying to change history. In fact, Barbara and the Doctor have reversed their roles since the time of Yetaxa.
As usual, the Doctor is the one who gets to do what he wants, and as a result I found out how an iron lung works; but it is on the conversations with the dying Alexander that the focus now lies. His description of his dream of the marriage of East and West made me think of Martin Luther King - and in particular the Strawbs' song, Martin Luther King's Dream. The Doctor declares that mankind will not achieve unity for 3000 years, which is around 2,700AD - when on the verge of exterminating each other. Checking out Ahistory I think he's a couple of centuries late there, but who's gonna quibble? The point is that the king's new friends bring him down at the end; dramatically appropriate, but horrendously thoughtless. I'm not surprised that Alexander takes a leaf from Calanus's book and decides to die.
Everything from this point on is, effectively, tying things up. We get to meet Roxane at last, and in doing so I can finally banish the echo of Police front man Sting from my mind, though as a final insult to my ears Big Finish turn the volume right up on the line "You have left the world TO THE VULTURES!"; too loud, man.
Then there's a nice little scene with Alexander's faithful guard which made me say, "oh, that Ptolemy!"; a smart man, who I imagine (semi-appropriately) portrayed by Roy Stewart in a speaking role at last. And then there's the reference to the Library of Alexandria while standing in the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, which is another neat touch.
But it's getting very close to the end of the story so we're off again, and our heroes decide to examine the scanner. In transit. How weird is that, and how can it possibly work? Even ignoring the technical details, I can't help but think that the well-described view of Alexander's funeral would have been a disappointment on screen. Still, 48 years on, that's an irrelevant detail; and on audio, it's a great way to go out.
Development of a Script, Part 6: Publishing the Unproduced
I love Doctor Who fans, don't you? Always keen to extract the maximum they can from the show that obsesses them. Well, that describes me, anyway, and it explains why there is a market for the script to an unmade fortysomething-year-old TV drama. The publishers of the Nothing at the End of the Lane magazine made the script available in print, along with a number of accompanying articles, here - I haven't bought it, but I have read the sample PDF and it seems very well put together. If I didn't have so much other Who stuff to buy I'd be tempted.
Rating:
9/10.
Next Time:
The serial as a whole.
Monday, 6 February 2012
The Lost Stories 2.1a, episode 5: In the Arena
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!
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!
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.
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