The Masters of Luxor continues, and can I say how much I've been
enjoying the episode titles so far? All very lyrical and evocative, much
more so than the corresponding names for the actual Serial B: The Dead Planet, The Survivors, The Escape.
This episode opens with one heck of a metaphor: for anyone who knows
anything about the theological aspects of the Catholic-Protestant split,
the issue of transubstantiation must surely spring to mind. According
to Catholic doctrine, the wafers of bread and wine (often mixed with
water) that are given to the congregation during the sacrament of the
Eucharist are literally transformed into the body and blood of Christ.
So here we have the Perfect One - a robot who desires to transform
himself into a living being - wanting to share wine, water and wafers
with the people whose life force he wishes to take in order to achieve
that transformation. This casts the Doctor and his friends in the role
of the Protestants, declaring that such a transformation is impossible.
In 1963 we were, fundamentally, a Protestant country, and it would have
been natural to align the program with the Protestant perspective; but
equally, the show was made by a bunch of "wishy-washy-liberals" who
wouldn't want to offend anybody's religion, so it is made clear that the
religion in question is a mockery of Catholicism, just as the Perfect
One is a "mockery of a man". But then again, one of the more barbed
criticisms of transubstantiation is that it means the congregation are
literally eating their god; and if I am to use one episode title in
defence, then surely the fact that the building (and by extension, the
robots' society) is cannibalistic must count on the other side? Plenty
of food for thought.
What, then, of the contaminated communion comestibles? The Perfect One
being immune to the poison is a symbol of how far away he (it?) is from
his goal; he could not receive the sacrament even if it were genuine.
But I am not sure of the meaning of the travellers being put to sleep.
The significance of this moment to me, though, was that the pleasure I
took in the episode moved from the intellectual to the emotional,
putting me right back in the area I usually occupy when being
entertained by the show; and now, this entry gets back to being a more
bog-standard review.
There is more "he said", "she said" in this episode. It had to happen,
really, because the team splits up into girl and boy pairings, leaving
each of the principal performers to talk to themselves for much of the
time. Unfortunate, and it does have an impact on my enjoyment, but it's
unavoidable unless you get other people in to do imitations of the
Doctor and Barbara; so I'll say no more about it.
The script is solid, and gives Susan a strong role for once. Earlier
episodes showed her teenage side; here she uses her scientific
background and figures out what to do about her and Barbara's captivity.
This always earns bonus marks from me for stories from a period which
didn't generally treat her with much respect.
Anthony Coburn doesn't respect the design teams' hopes for a quiet life,
though, with the way Ian and the Doctor leave the building. Still, it
looked impressive in my mind! This thread of the plot provides a very
nice twist, too. I'd been mildly interested in the robots' insistence
that there was no signal, figuring they hadn't been given the capacity
to perceive it by their makers; but the truth was not something I
expected. It got me excited about the plot again, rather than just the
ideas. I do hope it's something interesting.
Hm, I'm falling a little behind and I've written plenty, so I think I'll
save the next instalment of the history of the serial for next time.
Rating:
5/10.
Next Time:
Tabon of Luxor.
Tuesday 29 October 2013
Saturday 26 October 2013
The Lost Stories 3.7, episode 2: The Mockery of a Man
On to the second episode of The Masters of Luxor - but first,
let's briefly talk science fiction and scientific speculation. First,
there is a thread in the (overlapping, but distinct) SF and scientific
communities that looks to the future and attempts to make extrapolations
and predictions of the plausible. Sometimes these actually come true in
our timeline, Arthur C. Clarke's famous invention of the communications
satellite being a prime example (though he apparently originally
described it in an article, not a story as is sometimes assumed).
On the other hand flying cars haven't appeared yet - but perhaps they
will by the time this marathon reaches Gridlock. Another common
"golden age" assumption was that robots would be built in humanoid form,
and while that age was coming to an end in 1963 it is still noteworthy
that it is addressed here in Susan's comments about wheels or tracks
being more sensible choices than legs.
Sometimes speculation is just playing with ideas rather than making suggestions or assumptions. The concept of self-replicating machines - while going back to at least 1802 - was first studied in depth by John von Neumann in the late 1940s and popularised in the 1950s. Others (Edward F. Moore, to begin with) took those ideas and tried to make practical solutions, but they are still called "von Neumann machines" after their conceptual father.
Of course, the robots of Luxor don't just make identical copies of themselves, they make improvements. It would be lazy to call this "evolution" without knowing the mechanism of the Perfect One's development, but with the 1950s discoveries of DNA and the mechanisms of biological replication and genetic variation, and the impact this had on popular thought, such ideas were in the air at the time Anthony Coburn was working on this script.
And they were in my mind, too, listening to it. I thoroughly enjoyed the episode, but unusually it was a very cerebral kind of pleasure. There's a lot of "how does that work?" discussion, which might not have been to everyone's taste in a family program on TV but kept me entertained on audio.
Of course, it's not all cerebral - but to show the physical stuff properly would have required the budget for Forbidden Planet! Climbing down a series of balconies in the enormous building would have been done in a way that wasted the mental image, I suspect, and is far better on audio. Incidentally, I chose that film specifically because of similar imagery there - and it fits right into the period. This is superior 1950s SF.
Rocky Roads (The Robots), part 1: Robots and Cavemen and Giants, oh my!
Coming to William Hartnell fandom late in the day I never read the scripts for any of these stories, or indeed found out much about them and the circumstances that led to their abandonment - until this marathon. Now, however, I've taken the time to find out a bit more. As I run through these episodes I'll also provide a potted summary of how this serial ended up as an audio release.
When the initial run of TV stories was being hammered out in 1963 the first serial was to have been C.E. Webber's The Giants, and this was to have been followed by Anthony Coburn's The Tribe of Gum. When Webber's story was postponed Coburn was asked to move his up the schedule and also to write a second to follow straight after: The Masters of Luxor (or, as it was originally known, The Robots). Of course the latter wasn't going to happen, as we shall see next time...
Rating:
7.5/10.
Next Time:
A Light on the Dead Planet.
Sometimes speculation is just playing with ideas rather than making suggestions or assumptions. The concept of self-replicating machines - while going back to at least 1802 - was first studied in depth by John von Neumann in the late 1940s and popularised in the 1950s. Others (Edward F. Moore, to begin with) took those ideas and tried to make practical solutions, but they are still called "von Neumann machines" after their conceptual father.
Of course, the robots of Luxor don't just make identical copies of themselves, they make improvements. It would be lazy to call this "evolution" without knowing the mechanism of the Perfect One's development, but with the 1950s discoveries of DNA and the mechanisms of biological replication and genetic variation, and the impact this had on popular thought, such ideas were in the air at the time Anthony Coburn was working on this script.
And they were in my mind, too, listening to it. I thoroughly enjoyed the episode, but unusually it was a very cerebral kind of pleasure. There's a lot of "how does that work?" discussion, which might not have been to everyone's taste in a family program on TV but kept me entertained on audio.
Of course, it's not all cerebral - but to show the physical stuff properly would have required the budget for Forbidden Planet! Climbing down a series of balconies in the enormous building would have been done in a way that wasted the mental image, I suspect, and is far better on audio. Incidentally, I chose that film specifically because of similar imagery there - and it fits right into the period. This is superior 1950s SF.
Rocky Roads (The Robots), part 1: Robots and Cavemen and Giants, oh my!
Coming to William Hartnell fandom late in the day I never read the scripts for any of these stories, or indeed found out much about them and the circumstances that led to their abandonment - until this marathon. Now, however, I've taken the time to find out a bit more. As I run through these episodes I'll also provide a potted summary of how this serial ended up as an audio release.
When the initial run of TV stories was being hammered out in 1963 the first serial was to have been C.E. Webber's The Giants, and this was to have been followed by Anthony Coburn's The Tribe of Gum. When Webber's story was postponed Coburn was asked to move his up the schedule and also to write a second to follow straight after: The Masters of Luxor (or, as it was originally known, The Robots). Of course the latter wasn't going to happen, as we shall see next time...
Rating:
7.5/10.
Next Time:
A Light on the Dead Planet.
Wednesday 23 October 2013
The Lost Stories 3.7, episode 1: The Cannibal Flower
This is the second of the first Doctor's Lost Stories (third if you count The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance
separately), in terms of both production and my experience. As
mentioned a few entries ago I was given it as a present last Christmas,
but have resisted listening to it until now. So what do I think of it,
one episode in?
Big Finish have learned a lot since their initial attempt, which used a format I found tricky to get used to; and although it was saved by the strength of the story, the first episode in particular was a bit of a rough ride. This time there is a more natural division of narration duties (and voices!) between William Russell and Carole Ann Ford, with Russell handling Ian and the Doctor while Ford takes Susan and Barbara. The script, in stark contrast to Farewell, Great Macedon, supports this in two ways. First, when the TARDIS crew split up, it is into male-female pairs, so that there are natural roles for the two actors. Second, there are no speaking roles in the entire episode other than the regulars! I think this is true of The Dead Planet too, but with visuals and a full, living cast it's not so obvious.
Like Moris Farhi's story, this script feels very much of its time. There's a naivety to it, a confidence that the show can do anything coupled with an uncertainty about which of the myriad possibilities would work best. This leads to images like the vast, crystal building set atop a mountain, the kind of extravagant spectacle that the recent series paid tribute to in The Rings of Akhaten; but also to missteps like the TARDIS being driven about like a flying car, an idea that fits perfectly in the new series but is not quite how the show developed in its early years. Still, challenging modelwork aside, practicality isn't forgotten. There's nothing that couldn't have been realised in the confines of Lime Grove Studio D.
I had very clear images in my mind as I listened to this story. They were in black and white, but not really limited by the 1960s technology - for instance, my vision of the TARDIS landing inside the building and Ian and Susan stepping out would have required CGI, though I can imagine how they would have been done if the serial had been produced. This clarity is probably the best indicator that the adaptation to audio has been successful.
As with many opening episodes I enjoyed the mystery here. The cliffhanger, not so much. Susan is about to eat something! Um, is it so hard to imagine how they get out of that one? I confidently predict that the food is good to eat. Let's see if I'm right.
Speaking of the food, Susan's comment "is it real?" made me think that this should come after The Keys of Marinus. We also have references to the earlier lost stories which must have been added for audio. I'm not one of those who thinks the original script should have been followed slavishly, so this is all part of the adaptation. As for it's original, aborted placement... well, I'll say a little about that next time.
One final quibble: it's not a "cannibal flower", since it doesn't eat its own kind, but a carnivorous flower. I'll overlook this because (a) it's non-scientist Barbara describing it, and (b) it sounds way cooler.
Rating:
8/10.
Next Time:
The Mockery of a Man.
Big Finish have learned a lot since their initial attempt, which used a format I found tricky to get used to; and although it was saved by the strength of the story, the first episode in particular was a bit of a rough ride. This time there is a more natural division of narration duties (and voices!) between William Russell and Carole Ann Ford, with Russell handling Ian and the Doctor while Ford takes Susan and Barbara. The script, in stark contrast to Farewell, Great Macedon, supports this in two ways. First, when the TARDIS crew split up, it is into male-female pairs, so that there are natural roles for the two actors. Second, there are no speaking roles in the entire episode other than the regulars! I think this is true of The Dead Planet too, but with visuals and a full, living cast it's not so obvious.
Like Moris Farhi's story, this script feels very much of its time. There's a naivety to it, a confidence that the show can do anything coupled with an uncertainty about which of the myriad possibilities would work best. This leads to images like the vast, crystal building set atop a mountain, the kind of extravagant spectacle that the recent series paid tribute to in The Rings of Akhaten; but also to missteps like the TARDIS being driven about like a flying car, an idea that fits perfectly in the new series but is not quite how the show developed in its early years. Still, challenging modelwork aside, practicality isn't forgotten. There's nothing that couldn't have been realised in the confines of Lime Grove Studio D.
I had very clear images in my mind as I listened to this story. They were in black and white, but not really limited by the 1960s technology - for instance, my vision of the TARDIS landing inside the building and Ian and Susan stepping out would have required CGI, though I can imagine how they would have been done if the serial had been produced. This clarity is probably the best indicator that the adaptation to audio has been successful.
As with many opening episodes I enjoyed the mystery here. The cliffhanger, not so much. Susan is about to eat something! Um, is it so hard to imagine how they get out of that one? I confidently predict that the food is good to eat. Let's see if I'm right.
Speaking of the food, Susan's comment "is it real?" made me think that this should come after The Keys of Marinus. We also have references to the earlier lost stories which must have been added for audio. I'm not one of those who thinks the original script should have been followed slavishly, so this is all part of the adaptation. As for it's original, aborted placement... well, I'll say a little about that next time.
One final quibble: it's not a "cannibal flower", since it doesn't eat its own kind, but a carnivorous flower. I'll overlook this because (a) it's non-scientist Barbara describing it, and (b) it sounds way cooler.
Rating:
8/10.
Next Time:
The Mockery of a Man.
Friday 18 October 2013
CC7.01: The Time Museum
I had been looking forward to hearing this audio for some time. Although
I try not to read reviews of things I'm going to experience soon I
couldn't help but pick up the generally positive vibe, as well as
comments to the effect that it was perfect 50th Anniversary material -
just released a little early. So, I listened to it a little late - at
the perfect time, in fact.
Though it starts with a look rather than a listen. Alex Mallinson's cover design is particularly fine, being both attractive and appropriate. I especially like the faded-out museum corridor behind (which reminds me of one of M.C. Escher's pictures), the choice of colours, and the way Ian's memories are presented. Also, the design fits well with the stripe-down-the-left Big Finish house style. Good job!
Jumping to the end, the CD extra is just a brief clip of producer David Richardson interviewing the actors and director: a bit of fluff that doesn't add to my knowledge or insight, and doesn't even mention the lunches. This doesn't detract from the experience, though, and everyone sounds happy, so fair enough.
Back to the story, then; and one interesting aspect for readers of Elizabeth Sandifer's blog (or of the musings of some like-thinking people) is the adventure set on Vastradia. This is the only part to resemble a traditional Companion Chronicle, and it is where alchemy raises its head; so I just want to say a little about that. The adventure begins because of the mercury in the fault locator (or something - whatever, it is in itself a jumbled version of events from past stories), but the key element this time is molybdenum. An interesting choice: the name comes from a Greek word for lead, because the ores were often mistaken for each other. So, a confusing element for a confused account! It is an important substance in life processes since it is the main catalyst used by nitrogen-fixing bacteria, without which multicellular life could not exist. Transformative not just in the sense of affecting a chemical process, then, but also in the sense of affecting the whole history of life on Earth.
Alchemically, it is mercury that is the agent of change, transforming base lead into pure gold just as the Doctor transforms societies - for example, on Vortis. And in a later conversation about that very world Ian mentions a forbidden metal which Pendolin tentatively identifies as molybdenum, but which is actually gold. The narrative has moved further on in the process. Intentional? Probably not, but that doesn't actually matter with symbolism.
Molybdaenum, plumbum, lead - what's in a name? Thing can be referred to by different titles - and titles can refer to different things. Even on the TV show, The Rescue is both a serial in its own right and an episode of The Daleks, which is itself also an episode of The Dalek Invasion of Earth. Once you introduce expanded universe stories what hope is there? The Time Museum (as well as being a pun on The Space Museum) was a comic strip in the 1969 TV Comic Annual. If I find a copy I'll read it at the appropriate time, though from the TVC stories I have seen it's not going to be a priority!
James Goss is the author of a few eleventh Doctor books, though he is probably better known for writing a large number of Torchwood novels, short stories, and audios. Of these I've only read one (The Undertaker's Gift, not really my thing) and heard one other (The Golden Age, which was fun). The Time Museum is the earliest of his three Companion Chronicles to date, and one thing that strikes me is their variety (though they are all, in their various ways, nostalgia fests). The other thing of note is their quality: this is my least-favourite, and it's still above average.
Unusually, I can say a little bit about what makes this a good script. It is exemplified by the line "Mr Chesterton, you don't give up!", which summarises Ian's character beautifully, but not in a completely obvious way. Throughout, there is the sense that Goss really knows the period and has thought quite deeply about it.
Published:
Date: July 2012
ISBN: 1-78178-018-3
Rating:
7/10. But only just.
Next Time:
The Cannibal Flower.
Though it starts with a look rather than a listen. Alex Mallinson's cover design is particularly fine, being both attractive and appropriate. I especially like the faded-out museum corridor behind (which reminds me of one of M.C. Escher's pictures), the choice of colours, and the way Ian's memories are presented. Also, the design fits well with the stripe-down-the-left Big Finish house style. Good job!
Jumping to the end, the CD extra is just a brief clip of producer David Richardson interviewing the actors and director: a bit of fluff that doesn't add to my knowledge or insight, and doesn't even mention the lunches. This doesn't detract from the experience, though, and everyone sounds happy, so fair enough.
Back to the story, then; and one interesting aspect for readers of Elizabeth Sandifer's blog (or of the musings of some like-thinking people) is the adventure set on Vastradia. This is the only part to resemble a traditional Companion Chronicle, and it is where alchemy raises its head; so I just want to say a little about that. The adventure begins because of the mercury in the fault locator (or something - whatever, it is in itself a jumbled version of events from past stories), but the key element this time is molybdenum. An interesting choice: the name comes from a Greek word for lead, because the ores were often mistaken for each other. So, a confusing element for a confused account! It is an important substance in life processes since it is the main catalyst used by nitrogen-fixing bacteria, without which multicellular life could not exist. Transformative not just in the sense of affecting a chemical process, then, but also in the sense of affecting the whole history of life on Earth.
Alchemically, it is mercury that is the agent of change, transforming base lead into pure gold just as the Doctor transforms societies - for example, on Vortis. And in a later conversation about that very world Ian mentions a forbidden metal which Pendolin tentatively identifies as molybdenum, but which is actually gold. The narrative has moved further on in the process. Intentional? Probably not, but that doesn't actually matter with symbolism.
Molybdaenum, plumbum, lead - what's in a name? Thing can be referred to by different titles - and titles can refer to different things. Even on the TV show, The Rescue is both a serial in its own right and an episode of The Daleks, which is itself also an episode of The Dalek Invasion of Earth. Once you introduce expanded universe stories what hope is there? The Time Museum (as well as being a pun on The Space Museum) was a comic strip in the 1969 TV Comic Annual. If I find a copy I'll read it at the appropriate time, though from the TVC stories I have seen it's not going to be a priority!
James Goss is the author of a few eleventh Doctor books, though he is probably better known for writing a large number of Torchwood novels, short stories, and audios. Of these I've only read one (The Undertaker's Gift, not really my thing) and heard one other (The Golden Age, which was fun). The Time Museum is the earliest of his three Companion Chronicles to date, and one thing that strikes me is their variety (though they are all, in their various ways, nostalgia fests). The other thing of note is their quality: this is my least-favourite, and it's still above average.
Unusually, I can say a little bit about what makes this a good script. It is exemplified by the line "Mr Chesterton, you don't give up!", which summarises Ian's character beautifully, but not in a completely obvious way. Throughout, there is the sense that Goss really knows the period and has thought quite deeply about it.
Published:
Date: July 2012
ISBN: 1-78178-018-3
Rating:
7/10. But only just.
Next Time:
The Cannibal Flower.
Monday 14 October 2013
Episode CC7.01b: The Birth of Ian Chesterton
Spoilery goodness ahead.
Last time, it seemed fairly obvious that Pendolin was the bad guy. He reminded me of the demon in the classic Doctor Strange story "What Lurks Beneath the Mask?" (originally from Strange Tales 136 according to t'Internet, though as a child I read the B&W Marvel UK reprint); but I was hoping there'd be more of a twist than there was. He did get his memories eaten too, after all.
The other thing I was looking forward to was the resolution of the cliffhanger. The "what the?" identity-switch moment at the end was certainly intriguing! And what happens at the start of this episode? Another disconnect - which is fine - but then they go back to their old selves, prompted just by the smell of matches in the fog, and write it all off with a line of dialogue. I found this really disappointing.
Still, what wasn't disappointing was the reference to the first novelisation, Doctor Who in an Exciting Adventure with the Daleks. In fact, I've enjoyed all the references to past stories. I believe every one of Ian's TV serials is covered, along with a number of audios; though this is the only book I spotted. In the second episode there are also several references to the program post-Ian: the time scoop, Sontarans and Rutans, Nekkistani (from the audios), even the Eternals! The nerd in me really enjoyed all of this.
One niggle, though: having Eternals among the captured specimens does seem to me to be setting up Pendolin's people as being more powerful than the story needs. This, along with the ending, makes this story feel like the start of a new trilogy - one which, with the end of the regular Companion Chronicle series fast approaching, seems unlikely to happen.
Anyway. This episode has to do a lot of heavy lifting in terms of explanation, and with that in mind the decision to move the action beyond the Chesterton Exhibition is a good one. It was a fun tour, but a bit more variety is needed at this point. The exposition is well done, fortunately, so it sounds like (mostly) natural conversation. There are some lovely turns of phrase - I particularly like "tugging away at his lapels and looking into the centuries." Though the fact that the discussion reveals the ending of The Rocket Men would have annoyed me if I hadn't heard it!
The way Ian hides both his recovery and the fact that he has rumbled Pendolin is particularly well done, both in terms of script and performance. The story of the rock made me think, too; it's a changing of history I hadn't considered.
Still, overall, this episode grabbed me less than the preceding one. It's a common problem for serialised stories in all media: everything's new and exciting to start with, but then you have to tie up the story. It's partly why the three-act structure evolved, to control the pacing of a play; and the limitation of two-episode stories is that you generally have to make Act One lead up to the cliffhanger, which only leaves 25 minutes or so for the other two. Indeed, the ending here feels in some ways as if we have only reached the end of the second act (at most) for Ian, and I think that's why it looks something like the start of a trilogy.
Rating:
5/10
Next Time:
The Time Museum as a whole.
Last time, it seemed fairly obvious that Pendolin was the bad guy. He reminded me of the demon in the classic Doctor Strange story "What Lurks Beneath the Mask?" (originally from Strange Tales 136 according to t'Internet, though as a child I read the B&W Marvel UK reprint); but I was hoping there'd be more of a twist than there was. He did get his memories eaten too, after all.
The other thing I was looking forward to was the resolution of the cliffhanger. The "what the?" identity-switch moment at the end was certainly intriguing! And what happens at the start of this episode? Another disconnect - which is fine - but then they go back to their old selves, prompted just by the smell of matches in the fog, and write it all off with a line of dialogue. I found this really disappointing.
Still, what wasn't disappointing was the reference to the first novelisation, Doctor Who in an Exciting Adventure with the Daleks. In fact, I've enjoyed all the references to past stories. I believe every one of Ian's TV serials is covered, along with a number of audios; though this is the only book I spotted. In the second episode there are also several references to the program post-Ian: the time scoop, Sontarans and Rutans, Nekkistani (from the audios), even the Eternals! The nerd in me really enjoyed all of this.
One niggle, though: having Eternals among the captured specimens does seem to me to be setting up Pendolin's people as being more powerful than the story needs. This, along with the ending, makes this story feel like the start of a new trilogy - one which, with the end of the regular Companion Chronicle series fast approaching, seems unlikely to happen.
Anyway. This episode has to do a lot of heavy lifting in terms of explanation, and with that in mind the decision to move the action beyond the Chesterton Exhibition is a good one. It was a fun tour, but a bit more variety is needed at this point. The exposition is well done, fortunately, so it sounds like (mostly) natural conversation. There are some lovely turns of phrase - I particularly like "tugging away at his lapels and looking into the centuries." Though the fact that the discussion reveals the ending of The Rocket Men would have annoyed me if I hadn't heard it!
The way Ian hides both his recovery and the fact that he has rumbled Pendolin is particularly well done, both in terms of script and performance. The story of the rock made me think, too; it's a changing of history I hadn't considered.
Still, overall, this episode grabbed me less than the preceding one. It's a common problem for serialised stories in all media: everything's new and exciting to start with, but then you have to tie up the story. It's partly why the three-act structure evolved, to control the pacing of a play; and the limitation of two-episode stories is that you generally have to make Act One lead up to the cliffhanger, which only leaves 25 minutes or so for the other two. Indeed, the ending here feels in some ways as if we have only reached the end of the second act (at most) for Ian, and I think that's why it looks something like the start of a trilogy.
Rating:
5/10
Next Time:
The Time Museum as a whole.
Friday 11 October 2013
Episode CC7.01a: The Cave of Five Hundred Skulls
One of the first thoughts to strike me here was that this is a full-cast
audio, the first of my marathon so far. Okay, so there are only two
actors - fewer than Farewell, Great Macedon, for example - but
there's no narration. Or rather, there is, but that's not where the
action lies. In effect, this is the framing sequence device of many
Companion Chronicles taken to its logical conclusion: it's all frame!
This makes it special, more like a TV episode; and because I've got a little bored with straight reviews I thought I'd do a walkthrough similar to the ones I posted for The Velvet Web and The Space Museum - this time looking at the sound design, by Richard Fox and Lauren Yason, who also provide the music.
Spoilers!
Clock (Track 2)
Following the theme music (that oh-so-thrilling theme music, still chilling after half a century) we hear what I originally thought was a brief period of silence. It was only when I listened a second time - the sound coming through headphones rather than from the speakers of the radio in a busy kitchen - that I realised it was merely the 'silence' of the bedroom, with the ticking of a clock and the quiet noises of someone shifting in their sleep. Then the alarm goes off. It briefly sounds like the old, mechanical sort; but then it rises bizarrely in pitch, and as it does so the background music cuts in, electronic and spooky.
Six seconds. We are six seconds into the story proper, and it has already told us a fair bit about the tone we can expect from this episode. Of course, those expectations might be subverted later, but that's fair enough. The point is that without a word of dialogue things are being set up remarkably quickly.
And speaking of dialogue, we hear our first voice just before the seven-second mark. It's echoey, urgent, and unknown, joined almost immediately by the familiar sound of William Russell as a sleepy, just-waking Ian.
Half a minute in, and we get the sound of a door being opened. This is possibly the most clichéd sound effect of all, lampooned in the "Doorhandle of the Day" sketch during Ignore These Program Titles The Burkiss Way; but it's a cliché for a reason. Doors are darn useful ways of changing a scene. Five seconds later we leave the bedroom for...
Classroom (Track 2, continued)
...Ian's laboratory in Coal Hill School. As we do so, the resonance (is that the word?) changes. The warm, slightly muffled sound of Ian's voice in his bedroom is replaced by the lighter, crisper sound associated with a larger space (though with muffled "noises off" from the crowds in the corridors). The spooky, stringy music provides continuity, but the pace of the two characters' exchange loses some of its energy. This doesn't matter, because we're hooked now. We've got the idea that something strange and creepy is going on, and the story can afford to pause for breath and fill in a few of the details.
(These changes of pace are something where the writer, director and actors all have significant input, but this is the first time I've thought about it from the point of view of sound design.)
The expound-basics-of-situation discussion goes on for - comparatively - quite a long time, and during this the music and noises off start to become a little repetitious. I'm sure this is deliberate; museum displays are generally static things, and again the intent is tonal. It's not enough to become boring, even when I'm paying more conscious attention to it than it is designed for.
When They arrive - the beings the voice is fleeing - They are represented as only-just-audible sounds. As They get nearer and louder, so too does the volume of the music so They remain on the edge of hearing. It's a neat trick, finely judged.
As Ian's memories are taken we can just about hear "Susan" in the sounds, while "Einstein", "Barbara", and "John Smith" are all clearer - perhaps becoming more so as They feed.
Nine minutes in and we're heading through another door, this time one that whooshes open.
Corridor (Track 3)
Once again there's a change of resonance, and future scene changes do the same so I'll stop mentioning it. This time it's emphasised by the quiet: no music, no sounds except the echo of footprints on metal. The music doesn't resume until Ian spots how old he is ("preserved late in life", as Pendolin says). There's a rattle when They are about to arrive, shortly before the next scene change, just over halfway through the track.
Crusades (Track 3, continued)
The change is marked by a very neat transition where a grating sound - as of a stiff metal door being opened - transforms into a horse's whinny. The soundscape gives a real sense of being outdoors, though the music slightly overwhelms the sound of the battle, lessening its impact. This is, I think, a misjudgement - but it's only a minor annoyance, and when the noise of the fighting fades as they ride away and the music ends as they outrun the threat, I'm won over again. Ian's scrambled memories are emphasised by the return of the music, but the other sounds aren't ignored as they make their way through the underbrush of the forest, and into...
Cave (Track 4)
...the echoey (and eponymous) Cave of Five Hundred Skulls. The faint crackling of the fire gives us a 2½-minute break from music while not being totally bland, before the music returns to emphasise Pendolin's story shortly before the spectacular collapse of the walls.
Coast (Track 5)
Then we're outside again, with birdsong, moving water, and the next (3-minute) pause in the music. This is the closest we get to a regular Companion Chronicle, with Ian and Pendolin recreating an old adventure as Ian tells the tale. Pipey music returns with an impressive monster roar and then They catch up, prompting a retreat to the next scene.
Canyon (Track 6)
A moment of silence, then the sounds of footfalls on sand or gravel. The scene changes are so well-signified that I never have any doubt where we've got to. It wouldn't work in a story that was intended to be less disorientating, but here it's just right. The sounds of the gravel slide, the fall, the match lighting, all work to conjure up just the mental images required, and then we have the incongruous opening gate of the junkyard.
Console (Track 6, continued)
Everything has been speeding up as the episode progresses, and I notice that's true of this review too. We're back round to An Unearthly Child, again, in the junkyard with the TARDIS humming away; then we open the TARDIS doors and step in, being confused by the dimensions. The music changes, becoming deeper than before as They arrive and Ian gets confused about his identity; everything gets louder and more intense (perhaps more compressed), leading up to the thunderclap and the closing theme.
Phew. Quite a journey! I will say that the music was not my favourite, but it's well used; and the rest of the soundscape is brilliant. I haven't paid attention to sound designers before, so I don't know if Fox and Yason are old hands; but I might keep my eye out from now on.
There are some things I want to say about other aspects of the episode, but given the length of this review I reckon I'll incorporate them into my next post...
Rating:
8.5/10
Next Time:
The Birth of Ian Chesterton
This makes it special, more like a TV episode; and because I've got a little bored with straight reviews I thought I'd do a walkthrough similar to the ones I posted for The Velvet Web and The Space Museum - this time looking at the sound design, by Richard Fox and Lauren Yason, who also provide the music.
Spoilers!
Clock (Track 2)
Following the theme music (that oh-so-thrilling theme music, still chilling after half a century) we hear what I originally thought was a brief period of silence. It was only when I listened a second time - the sound coming through headphones rather than from the speakers of the radio in a busy kitchen - that I realised it was merely the 'silence' of the bedroom, with the ticking of a clock and the quiet noises of someone shifting in their sleep. Then the alarm goes off. It briefly sounds like the old, mechanical sort; but then it rises bizarrely in pitch, and as it does so the background music cuts in, electronic and spooky.
Six seconds. We are six seconds into the story proper, and it has already told us a fair bit about the tone we can expect from this episode. Of course, those expectations might be subverted later, but that's fair enough. The point is that without a word of dialogue things are being set up remarkably quickly.
And speaking of dialogue, we hear our first voice just before the seven-second mark. It's echoey, urgent, and unknown, joined almost immediately by the familiar sound of William Russell as a sleepy, just-waking Ian.
Half a minute in, and we get the sound of a door being opened. This is possibly the most clichéd sound effect of all, lampooned in the "Doorhandle of the Day" sketch during Ignore These Program Titles The Burkiss Way; but it's a cliché for a reason. Doors are darn useful ways of changing a scene. Five seconds later we leave the bedroom for...
Classroom (Track 2, continued)
...Ian's laboratory in Coal Hill School. As we do so, the resonance (is that the word?) changes. The warm, slightly muffled sound of Ian's voice in his bedroom is replaced by the lighter, crisper sound associated with a larger space (though with muffled "noises off" from the crowds in the corridors). The spooky, stringy music provides continuity, but the pace of the two characters' exchange loses some of its energy. This doesn't matter, because we're hooked now. We've got the idea that something strange and creepy is going on, and the story can afford to pause for breath and fill in a few of the details.
(These changes of pace are something where the writer, director and actors all have significant input, but this is the first time I've thought about it from the point of view of sound design.)
The expound-basics-of-situation discussion goes on for - comparatively - quite a long time, and during this the music and noises off start to become a little repetitious. I'm sure this is deliberate; museum displays are generally static things, and again the intent is tonal. It's not enough to become boring, even when I'm paying more conscious attention to it than it is designed for.
When They arrive - the beings the voice is fleeing - They are represented as only-just-audible sounds. As They get nearer and louder, so too does the volume of the music so They remain on the edge of hearing. It's a neat trick, finely judged.
As Ian's memories are taken we can just about hear "Susan" in the sounds, while "Einstein", "Barbara", and "John Smith" are all clearer - perhaps becoming more so as They feed.
Nine minutes in and we're heading through another door, this time one that whooshes open.
Corridor (Track 3)
Once again there's a change of resonance, and future scene changes do the same so I'll stop mentioning it. This time it's emphasised by the quiet: no music, no sounds except the echo of footprints on metal. The music doesn't resume until Ian spots how old he is ("preserved late in life", as Pendolin says). There's a rattle when They are about to arrive, shortly before the next scene change, just over halfway through the track.
Crusades (Track 3, continued)
The change is marked by a very neat transition where a grating sound - as of a stiff metal door being opened - transforms into a horse's whinny. The soundscape gives a real sense of being outdoors, though the music slightly overwhelms the sound of the battle, lessening its impact. This is, I think, a misjudgement - but it's only a minor annoyance, and when the noise of the fighting fades as they ride away and the music ends as they outrun the threat, I'm won over again. Ian's scrambled memories are emphasised by the return of the music, but the other sounds aren't ignored as they make their way through the underbrush of the forest, and into...
Cave (Track 4)
...the echoey (and eponymous) Cave of Five Hundred Skulls. The faint crackling of the fire gives us a 2½-minute break from music while not being totally bland, before the music returns to emphasise Pendolin's story shortly before the spectacular collapse of the walls.
Coast (Track 5)
Then we're outside again, with birdsong, moving water, and the next (3-minute) pause in the music. This is the closest we get to a regular Companion Chronicle, with Ian and Pendolin recreating an old adventure as Ian tells the tale. Pipey music returns with an impressive monster roar and then They catch up, prompting a retreat to the next scene.
Canyon (Track 6)
A moment of silence, then the sounds of footfalls on sand or gravel. The scene changes are so well-signified that I never have any doubt where we've got to. It wouldn't work in a story that was intended to be less disorientating, but here it's just right. The sounds of the gravel slide, the fall, the match lighting, all work to conjure up just the mental images required, and then we have the incongruous opening gate of the junkyard.
Console (Track 6, continued)
Everything has been speeding up as the episode progresses, and I notice that's true of this review too. We're back round to An Unearthly Child, again, in the junkyard with the TARDIS humming away; then we open the TARDIS doors and step in, being confused by the dimensions. The music changes, becoming deeper than before as They arrive and Ian gets confused about his identity; everything gets louder and more intense (perhaps more compressed), leading up to the thunderclap and the closing theme.
Phew. Quite a journey! I will say that the music was not my favourite, but it's well used; and the rest of the soundscape is brilliant. I haven't paid attention to sound designers before, so I don't know if Fox and Yason are old hands; but I might keep my eye out from now on.
There are some things I want to say about other aspects of the episode, but given the length of this review I reckon I'll incorporate them into my next post...
Rating:
8.5/10
Next Time:
The Birth of Ian Chesterton
Wednesday 9 October 2013
The Hiatus, or "It's 1985 all over again!"
Hah, my revival of the blog didn't last long, did it? Well, I'm trying
again. I'm writing this while on holiday with no internet, no phone
reception, and no interruptions (except for my family wanting to do fun
things with me, and for some strange reason I'm okay with that).
Time flies. It's now three weeks since I wrote the previous paragraph; I've only written a little in that period, and rather than being contributions to this blog it's mostly been a trial chapter for a potential new book. So far the experiment's looking promising, but it's still too early to tell whether it's worth the investment of time to finish it and then attempt to interest publishers or agents.
I've also been doing other things. Dieting, for one. This was for health reasons, and I've managed to lose about five kilos so far. A surprise benefit is that I've stopped snoring, so my wife isn't getting disturbed in the night. Which is not only nice but also important, since she is currently taking up the financial slack by working extra shifts at the hospital and really needs her sleep.
Oh yes, money. Alison earned more than we anticipated last year, and as a result our Working Family Tax Credit has been cut - by more than the difference between estimate and actuality, so her working hard meant we got less. To balance the books she needs to earn at least an extra £3,000 this year - but not more than £5,000 otherwise we lose the rest of the benefits, and then she'll have to earn even more! It's a minefield. Meanwhile, the school where I work (very) part time as a teaching assistant has had its budget slashed. No surprise there, but as a result it's unclear whether I'll be getting any work from them. Last year my groups were cut from two to one (though since I was doing Gifted and Talented maths sessions rather than boosters I was at least able to pack in more fun stuff). Oh for the days when I was physically able to do contract programming, could earn four times as much per hour, and had trouble getting enough time off! Anyway, we'll wait and see what happens, but current plans involve me trying to see if I can make my money from writing, though that won't happen unless I prioritise it.
But I digress. Apart from diversion (and a little understandable depression), what has distracted me from my marathon? I think one thing is that I really don't want to say goodbye to Iananbarbara. With Susan's departure there was at least the feeling that the character never lived up to her potential, but it's been a more solidly positive experience with the teachers from Coal Hill. The Time Museum was to have been my final story with them - well, with Ian, at least - and I don't want to get to the end.
I've decided to postpone that moment. There's a large backlog of stories (mostly audio) which have been added to my collection since the time they should have been reviewed, so I'm going to go back and fill in the gaps. Timeslips, as deltaandthebannermen puts it. Stories include The Masters of Luxor (which I was given last Christmas and still haven't heard), The Library of Alexandria, The Flames of Cadiz, and some pre-Unearthly Child stories with the Doctor and Susan. (There's also The Wanderer, if I can get my hands on a cheap enough copy.) On top of that, I want to briefly revisit a few televised stories that weren't out on DVD. The Sensorites will only get a brief mention, but I'll do a (single) review of the two animated episodes of Reign of Terror as well as one for the four-episode reconstruction of Planet of Giants.
Here's my ambitious plan. I will post at least two reviews or fiction extracts a week between now and the anniversary. As soon as I finish the story I am then reviewing, I will tackle The Beginning in celebration (I have it preordered). I will stick to this plan unless some money-earning writing opportunity comes along.
Fingers crossed!
Next Time:
Really The Cave of Five Hundred Skulls!
Time flies. It's now three weeks since I wrote the previous paragraph; I've only written a little in that period, and rather than being contributions to this blog it's mostly been a trial chapter for a potential new book. So far the experiment's looking promising, but it's still too early to tell whether it's worth the investment of time to finish it and then attempt to interest publishers or agents.
I've also been doing other things. Dieting, for one. This was for health reasons, and I've managed to lose about five kilos so far. A surprise benefit is that I've stopped snoring, so my wife isn't getting disturbed in the night. Which is not only nice but also important, since she is currently taking up the financial slack by working extra shifts at the hospital and really needs her sleep.
Oh yes, money. Alison earned more than we anticipated last year, and as a result our Working Family Tax Credit has been cut - by more than the difference between estimate and actuality, so her working hard meant we got less. To balance the books she needs to earn at least an extra £3,000 this year - but not more than £5,000 otherwise we lose the rest of the benefits, and then she'll have to earn even more! It's a minefield. Meanwhile, the school where I work (very) part time as a teaching assistant has had its budget slashed. No surprise there, but as a result it's unclear whether I'll be getting any work from them. Last year my groups were cut from two to one (though since I was doing Gifted and Talented maths sessions rather than boosters I was at least able to pack in more fun stuff). Oh for the days when I was physically able to do contract programming, could earn four times as much per hour, and had trouble getting enough time off! Anyway, we'll wait and see what happens, but current plans involve me trying to see if I can make my money from writing, though that won't happen unless I prioritise it.
But I digress. Apart from diversion (and a little understandable depression), what has distracted me from my marathon? I think one thing is that I really don't want to say goodbye to Iananbarbara. With Susan's departure there was at least the feeling that the character never lived up to her potential, but it's been a more solidly positive experience with the teachers from Coal Hill. The Time Museum was to have been my final story with them - well, with Ian, at least - and I don't want to get to the end.
I've decided to postpone that moment. There's a large backlog of stories (mostly audio) which have been added to my collection since the time they should have been reviewed, so I'm going to go back and fill in the gaps. Timeslips, as deltaandthebannermen puts it. Stories include The Masters of Luxor (which I was given last Christmas and still haven't heard), The Library of Alexandria, The Flames of Cadiz, and some pre-Unearthly Child stories with the Doctor and Susan. (There's also The Wanderer, if I can get my hands on a cheap enough copy.) On top of that, I want to briefly revisit a few televised stories that weren't out on DVD. The Sensorites will only get a brief mention, but I'll do a (single) review of the two animated episodes of Reign of Terror as well as one for the four-episode reconstruction of Planet of Giants.
Here's my ambitious plan. I will post at least two reviews or fiction extracts a week between now and the anniversary. As soon as I finish the story I am then reviewing, I will tackle The Beginning in celebration (I have it preordered). I will stick to this plan unless some money-earning writing opportunity comes along.
Fingers crossed!
Next Time:
Really The Cave of Five Hundred Skulls!
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