Happily, despite a couple of days having passed in between, I was fine with the narrative style from the start of this episode. I guess it must be like riding a bike.
The first thing that caught my attention was the lack of recap. It's not needed, of course, and it didn't bother me; but it is a difference from the TV series. This episode focuses on Alexander, Father Cleitus, and the relationship between the two men. There's a lot more going on, of course, and we start to see the conspiracy up and running while getting to know Alexander and his friends generally. There's surprisingly little action until very near the end, but that doesn't mean the episode lacks tension: in fact, it raced by for me even though it's longer than the average TV episode.
Most of the dialogue is once again excellent, though there are a couple of heavy-handed moments. The Doctor accidentally calling Ian "Chesterfield" and then, when corrected, deliberately referring to him as "Chatterton" is the sort of idea that might look good on paper, but fails in practice - particularly after both those versions have been used in other stories. The expanded explanation of the TARDIS's fuel problem as involving heavy hydrogen is also a step too far. Finally, I was surprised to hear Alexander call the Doctor a "scientist" rather than a "philosopher" or some such. Still, these are all minor points, and the conversations were a large part of what keeps the story flowing.
It all builds up relentlessly, paced just right leading into the final scene, the banquet. With wine flowing freely, the argument between Ian and Cleitus which spreads to those around them is pitched perfectly, and - while I strongly doubt that the historical Alexander held quite such liberal views regarding the equality of men - the consequences that follow are consistent with everything we have seen earlier.
I hadn't been paying much attention to the sound design until the banquet. The background hubbub really adds to the atmosphere, and I realised that it has been rather quiet. Oh, there's been enough to set the scene throughout, but it's not as immersive as many Big Finish releases.
Anyway, back to the death of Cleitus. Wondering just how much of this was accurate (at least to the mythic history of Alexander), I checked it out on Wikipedia (post blackout). The events are almost exactly as described, but take place some years earlier and in a different place. Interestingly the film Alexander (which I haven't seen) also makes use of the event but transplants it to the Indian campaign in between. I guess some images are too good for little details like geography and history to spoil!
Development of a Script, Part 2: Beyond the Call
The thing about this episode and the ones that follow which distinguishes them from the first is that they should never have existed, even in script form, because David Whitaker had only commissioned a single trial episode of a story about Alexander's death. Farhi, however, became "demonically inspired" and proceeded to write the whole thing. This may not have made much sense economically, but as the author of these reviews I know that money isn't the only motivator. And given the quality of this second script, I'm very glad that the extra episodes do exist!
This episode is also known as The Wrath Of The Greatest Grecian Of Them All!, so I think writer Farhi must have had a thing for exclamation points! Rather like Stan Lee, who didn't believe in the existence of periods! True fact, you know - would I lie to you?!
Rating:
8.5/10.
Next Time:
Episode 3, A Man Must Die.
Monday, 30 January 2012
Friday, 27 January 2012
The Lost Stories 2.1a, episode 1: The Hanging Gardens Of Babylon
Well now, this is... different. It's probably best classed as a Companion Chronicle, but it has elements of narrated soundtrack too; and there are three narrators, which is common to neither format. William Russell and Carole Ann Ford are back, along with the multitalented John Dorney (who we haven't encountered before on this marathon, but who has written or starred in some of the best-received Big Finish audios). I'd expected them to divide up the roles - Russell playing Ian and the Doctor, Ford playing Susan and Barbara, all three the supporting cast - but it doesn't work like that. Dorney plays only one character - Alexander of Macedon - and the other two take it in turns to narrate the story. It seems a bit bizarre when Russell is doing the Doctor's voice one minute, Ford the next, and it threw me at the start; but after a while I became used to it, and by the end I hardly noticed.
So, why hasn't this been written to conform more to the normal rules of a Companion Chronicle? Because - and this is the exciting bit for me - the script is an adaptation to audio of an actual TV script from 1964. This shows, in both good and bad ways. As accurate a tribute to the timeframe as Transit of Venus undoubtedly is, this is closer. But more on that later; I want to look at how that script plays out.
The opening scene in the TARDIS gave me a bit of a sense of déjà vu. The ship is suffering from a power drain caused by the fuel running out - didn't we just go through this with Leif Ericsson? Of course, they couldn't have known I would be listening to this just after reading a story written much later, and they give less detail this time, which makes it work better. So it's not too bad - until Susan decides they must have died. Because of the heavenly music she's hearing. I'm sorry, but what?! They then step out onto an alien world where the plants make music, and at this point I stop to check that I haven't put the wrong CD in. But no, this isn't The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance; and actually there is a myth-historical explanation. Still, combined with the disorientating way the story is narrated, it definitely gets off on the wrong foot.
Things improve dramatically once we move outside. Iananbarbara together figure out where they are, we are introduced to four conspirators who look like they are going to be driving the plot, the Doctor has an amusing encounter with a prophet, and then we meet Dorney's Alexander and his companions. It's a scene-setting episode where little actually happens, but that doesn't matter - the dialogue is good, the scenario intriguing (pun intended) and the characters well-rounded.
One thing I've noticed a lot lately is how I imagine visuals to go along with the audio (or even the text in some cases). Here I can picture a very appropriate black-and-white view. When Barbara looked through the gate at the sea of tents on the plain outside the city, I even saw it as a painted backdrop! This would all have been filmable in Lime Grove Studio D, and although there could have been some problems making the Hanging Gardens realistic - they might have ended up more like the screaming jungle on Marinus - it is obviously a script written for television of the time.
So, a good recovery after the rocky start. I'm definitely interested, and with the next episode following on straight after this one on the CD I had to use quite some willpower to stick to my "one episode a day" rule.
Development of a Script, Part 1: Sign of the Times
These sections are going to appear in a somewhat odd order, but bear with me. While adapting the TV script for audio Nigel Robinson noticed a scene at the start that didn't really fit: the travellers begin their adventure strapped to a machine that teaches them multiple languages, thus explaining how they can speak ancient Greek. In some ways it's a neat idea, and it's certainly the sort of thing early Who did quite often; but the translation has been explained differently since and so it would have created a barrier to acceptance of the story for modern listeners. It also doesn't explain how Iananbarbara could talk to the cave people of The Tribe of Gum, so I think it's better avoided.
Rating:
5/10.
Next Time:
It's quite exhilarating listening to a proper serial again; I hadn't realised quite how much I was missing it. On to episode 2, O, Son! My Son!
So, why hasn't this been written to conform more to the normal rules of a Companion Chronicle? Because - and this is the exciting bit for me - the script is an adaptation to audio of an actual TV script from 1964. This shows, in both good and bad ways. As accurate a tribute to the timeframe as Transit of Venus undoubtedly is, this is closer. But more on that later; I want to look at how that script plays out.
The opening scene in the TARDIS gave me a bit of a sense of déjà vu. The ship is suffering from a power drain caused by the fuel running out - didn't we just go through this with Leif Ericsson? Of course, they couldn't have known I would be listening to this just after reading a story written much later, and they give less detail this time, which makes it work better. So it's not too bad - until Susan decides they must have died. Because of the heavenly music she's hearing. I'm sorry, but what?! They then step out onto an alien world where the plants make music, and at this point I stop to check that I haven't put the wrong CD in. But no, this isn't The Fragile Yellow Arc of Fragrance; and actually there is a myth-historical explanation. Still, combined with the disorientating way the story is narrated, it definitely gets off on the wrong foot.
Things improve dramatically once we move outside. Iananbarbara together figure out where they are, we are introduced to four conspirators who look like they are going to be driving the plot, the Doctor has an amusing encounter with a prophet, and then we meet Dorney's Alexander and his companions. It's a scene-setting episode where little actually happens, but that doesn't matter - the dialogue is good, the scenario intriguing (pun intended) and the characters well-rounded.
One thing I've noticed a lot lately is how I imagine visuals to go along with the audio (or even the text in some cases). Here I can picture a very appropriate black-and-white view. When Barbara looked through the gate at the sea of tents on the plain outside the city, I even saw it as a painted backdrop! This would all have been filmable in Lime Grove Studio D, and although there could have been some problems making the Hanging Gardens realistic - they might have ended up more like the screaming jungle on Marinus - it is obviously a script written for television of the time.
So, a good recovery after the rocky start. I'm definitely interested, and with the next episode following on straight after this one on the CD I had to use quite some willpower to stick to my "one episode a day" rule.
Development of a Script, Part 1: Sign of the Times
These sections are going to appear in a somewhat odd order, but bear with me. While adapting the TV script for audio Nigel Robinson noticed a scene at the start that didn't really fit: the travellers begin their adventure strapped to a machine that teaches them multiple languages, thus explaining how they can speak ancient Greek. In some ways it's a neat idea, and it's certainly the sort of thing early Who did quite often; but the translation has been explained differently since and so it would have created a barrier to acceptance of the story for modern listeners. It also doesn't explain how Iananbarbara could talk to the cave people of The Tribe of Gum, so I think it's better avoided.
Rating:
5/10.
Next Time:
It's quite exhilarating listening to a proper serial again; I hadn't realised quite how much I was missing it. On to episode 2, O, Son! My Son!
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
Short Trips and Sidesteps 3.12: Dr Who and the House on Oldark Moor, by Justin Richards
When we last left Dr Who, he and his granddaughters, along with Barbara's clumsy boyfriend Ian, had escaped the Daleks but ended up nearly trampled by Roman soldiers. I don't know what happens next, but after leaving ancient Rome they try to get home, and end up on a fog-shrouded moor - listening to the baying of a distant hound...
Richards has captured the character of the Amicus movie cast beautifully here. I can see Roy Castle pratfalling his way through the story and Peter Cushing as Dr Who doddering along, while Roberta Tovey's Susy Who calmly holds it all together. As usual Jennie Linden's Barbara gets to stand around modelling 1960s fashion and be ineffectually concerned about people, but at least she does it in a way that is consistent with the film!
Sticking with the visual analogy - and this is a very visual story - it seems that Cushing gets to play two roles, since he also appears as Count Tarkin. The name may be a bit of a clue to what is going on here: this is a tribute to Cushing, referencing his appearances in film over his career. And what a career it was! How many actors can claim to have appeared as Doctor Who, Sherlock Holmes and Baron von Frankenstein, as well as having significant roles in Star Wars and Dracula films? His main staple was horror, but he'd lend his talents to a far wider range of films and hated the idea of being typecast.
As you might expect, though, this story is primarily a pastiche of Hammer horror; even the Sherlock Holmes story referenced is The Hound of the Baskervilles, probably the closest to traditional horror. As such, it is more the sort of thing you might expect from the Hinchcliffe/Holmes era. Which suits me, to be honest.
It's Thingy, from That Other Program, Part 2: Roy Castle
Because I'm unlikely to get another opportunity I'd also like to say a little about the actor who plays parallel Ian. As a child I remember Castle mainly from The Record Breakers, a long-running Friday night show. The best bit of the programme for me was when there was a live attempt at breaking a record (I have actually taken part in one successful world record attempt, but since it was of the "most people doing X at the same time" sort there's not much kudos). He presented the show from its inception in 1972 until shortly before his death from lung cancer in 1994, less than a month after Cushing died from prostate cancer. Castle's illness was caused by passive smoking during his career as a jazz trumpet player; he became a strong advocate of clean air, and I remember clearly when he refused to shake Maggie Thatcher's hand because of her involvement with tobacco company Philip Morris. It made a big impression on me, even though I was never a tobacco smoker myself. My mum had great difficulty giving up when she was pregnant with me, and although she accepted that cigarettes were what got her through the war she made it very plain that she thought they were terrible things. Never much of a rebel, I happily went along with this until I could make my own mind up.
Published:
Date: March 2000
ISBN: 0-563-55599-8
Rating:
7.5/10.
Next Time:
And that's enough reading for now. Let's leave the Cushingverse for a while and switch on the audio as we take a trip to The Hanging Gardens of Babylon...
Richards has captured the character of the Amicus movie cast beautifully here. I can see Roy Castle pratfalling his way through the story and Peter Cushing as Dr Who doddering along, while Roberta Tovey's Susy Who calmly holds it all together. As usual Jennie Linden's Barbara gets to stand around modelling 1960s fashion and be ineffectually concerned about people, but at least she does it in a way that is consistent with the film!
Sticking with the visual analogy - and this is a very visual story - it seems that Cushing gets to play two roles, since he also appears as Count Tarkin. The name may be a bit of a clue to what is going on here: this is a tribute to Cushing, referencing his appearances in film over his career. And what a career it was! How many actors can claim to have appeared as Doctor Who, Sherlock Holmes and Baron von Frankenstein, as well as having significant roles in Star Wars and Dracula films? His main staple was horror, but he'd lend his talents to a far wider range of films and hated the idea of being typecast.
As you might expect, though, this story is primarily a pastiche of Hammer horror; even the Sherlock Holmes story referenced is The Hound of the Baskervilles, probably the closest to traditional horror. As such, it is more the sort of thing you might expect from the Hinchcliffe/Holmes era. Which suits me, to be honest.
It's Thingy, from That Other Program, Part 2: Roy Castle
Because I'm unlikely to get another opportunity I'd also like to say a little about the actor who plays parallel Ian. As a child I remember Castle mainly from The Record Breakers, a long-running Friday night show. The best bit of the programme for me was when there was a live attempt at breaking a record (I have actually taken part in one successful world record attempt, but since it was of the "most people doing X at the same time" sort there's not much kudos). He presented the show from its inception in 1972 until shortly before his death from lung cancer in 1994, less than a month after Cushing died from prostate cancer. Castle's illness was caused by passive smoking during his career as a jazz trumpet player; he became a strong advocate of clean air, and I remember clearly when he refused to shake Maggie Thatcher's hand because of her involvement with tobacco company Philip Morris. It made a big impression on me, even though I was never a tobacco smoker myself. My mum had great difficulty giving up when she was pregnant with me, and although she accepted that cigarettes were what got her through the war she made it very plain that she thought they were terrible things. Never much of a rebel, I happily went along with this until I could make my own mind up.
Published:
Date: March 2000
ISBN: 0-563-55599-8
Rating:
7.5/10.
Next Time:
And that's enough reading for now. Let's leave the Cushingverse for a while and switch on the audio as we take a trip to The Hanging Gardens of Babylon...
Monday, 23 January 2012
DWM 200: Rennigan's Record, by David Whitaker
DWM 200 was the other issue I was given for Christmas, and I'd been beginning to think I'd never get a copy. I first bought it on eBay almost a year ago. The parcel arrived, and before I'd even opened it I put it down in order to do something with the children. When I looked again later that day it wasn't where I thought I had left it; and despite a spring clean since then, it's never reappeared. Later someone on Gallifrey Base was advertising DWMs for sale, including issue 200. I arranged to buy it (and 11 others) - and then he found his copy had gone missing. Third time was the charm, though, and now I have it in my grubby little mitts. I really should change when I come in from playing in the snow...
Ahem. Anyway, here's another good writer trying his hand at a short story: original script editor David Whitaker. Will he prove as much of a disaster as John Lucarotti? Let's find out.
First impressions again: it's seven pages of small print, so it has a chance of being a bit meatier. Paul Vyse is the artist once more, and this time he does a much better job. There's one substandard picture of Barbara and Susan, but the rest are good - and I like the way he models Rennigan on Whitaker. A nice touch. The introduction tells us that this is Whitaker's only known unpublished story and that it's being presented unedited. I can understand why but even the best writers need editing, so this may not be a good thing.
Without giving too much away, the story is the recorded diary of an astronaut, the only survivor of a spaceship crash on Mars, as he awaits rescue or (more likely) death. The setting is interesting: it's 1994, and nobody has managed to land on Mars even though there are already colonies on Venus. This echoes real-world problems with our attempts to investigate the red planet, which were plagued with technical problems that resulted in many lost probes. As such it has one foot in the real world and another in golden age SF; in fact, other than the presence of a breathable atmosphere on Mars, it's only the mentions of Venus that keep it from being a fairly hard SF story. The brief mentions of astronaut life reminded me of Stephen Baxter's Voyage, a contrafactual account of NASA's first Mars mission, though of course the detail is missing. Once again there are educational elements, including a section very reminiscent of a scene in Marco Polo; but they don't intrude.
The prose is easy to read, straightforward rather than lilting and lyrical like Rise and Fall, and this is in keeping with the diary of a scientist. The timing is interesting - Rennigan is talking about events a couple of days in the past, but as we hear more daily entries the reported time catches up with the reporting time. It's a neat touch.
Not much actually happens in the story; but that's fine, because it's primarily about Rennigan's thoughts. My problem with it, however, is that the Doctor and his companions are following a plan that depends heavily on the astronaut suffering from a very specific delusion, and not figuring this out despite some clear evidence. This is a bit of a killer for me, which unfortunately undoes a lot of the good things I've said about it. Still, it's a considerable step up from Who Discovered America?, which is a relief.
Oh, and there's a bit where the Doctor is talking about the ancient inhabitants of Mars, which (with my knowledge of future stories) I found quite amusing. It's not like the Ice Warriors I remember!
The Diary Entries
Wait, there's more! In the same issue there are three diary entries, one for each of the companions. These are brief, and all relate to moments in Earth's history. Each saves the surprise of the exact moment until the end, and it would be a shame to spoil it. I will note, though, that I can't see them fitting into the broader Whoniverse; two feel more like plots from a TV Comic story, and the third provides an explanation for an event that has been explained in at least four other contradictory ways (once on television and thrice in books), and has been blamed on each of the first three Doctors! Still, they are amusing bits of fluff in an issue that is devoted to Whitaker, and I would recommend the magazine for anyone interested in an overview of his work on Who.
Published:
Date: 9th June 1993
ISBN: 0957-5618
Rating:
4.5/10.
Next Time:
About time for a step sideways, so let's make a brief visit to The House on Oldark Moor...
Ahem. Anyway, here's another good writer trying his hand at a short story: original script editor David Whitaker. Will he prove as much of a disaster as John Lucarotti? Let's find out.
First impressions again: it's seven pages of small print, so it has a chance of being a bit meatier. Paul Vyse is the artist once more, and this time he does a much better job. There's one substandard picture of Barbara and Susan, but the rest are good - and I like the way he models Rennigan on Whitaker. A nice touch. The introduction tells us that this is Whitaker's only known unpublished story and that it's being presented unedited. I can understand why but even the best writers need editing, so this may not be a good thing.
Without giving too much away, the story is the recorded diary of an astronaut, the only survivor of a spaceship crash on Mars, as he awaits rescue or (more likely) death. The setting is interesting: it's 1994, and nobody has managed to land on Mars even though there are already colonies on Venus. This echoes real-world problems with our attempts to investigate the red planet, which were plagued with technical problems that resulted in many lost probes. As such it has one foot in the real world and another in golden age SF; in fact, other than the presence of a breathable atmosphere on Mars, it's only the mentions of Venus that keep it from being a fairly hard SF story. The brief mentions of astronaut life reminded me of Stephen Baxter's Voyage, a contrafactual account of NASA's first Mars mission, though of course the detail is missing. Once again there are educational elements, including a section very reminiscent of a scene in Marco Polo; but they don't intrude.
The prose is easy to read, straightforward rather than lilting and lyrical like Rise and Fall, and this is in keeping with the diary of a scientist. The timing is interesting - Rennigan is talking about events a couple of days in the past, but as we hear more daily entries the reported time catches up with the reporting time. It's a neat touch.
Not much actually happens in the story; but that's fine, because it's primarily about Rennigan's thoughts. My problem with it, however, is that the Doctor and his companions are following a plan that depends heavily on the astronaut suffering from a very specific delusion, and not figuring this out despite some clear evidence. This is a bit of a killer for me, which unfortunately undoes a lot of the good things I've said about it. Still, it's a considerable step up from Who Discovered America?, which is a relief.
Oh, and there's a bit where the Doctor is talking about the ancient inhabitants of Mars, which (with my knowledge of future stories) I found quite amusing. It's not like the Ice Warriors I remember!
The Diary Entries
Wait, there's more! In the same issue there are three diary entries, one for each of the companions. These are brief, and all relate to moments in Earth's history. Each saves the surprise of the exact moment until the end, and it would be a shame to spoil it. I will note, though, that I can't see them fitting into the broader Whoniverse; two feel more like plots from a TV Comic story, and the third provides an explanation for an event that has been explained in at least four other contradictory ways (once on television and thrice in books), and has been blamed on each of the first three Doctors! Still, they are amusing bits of fluff in an issue that is devoted to Whitaker, and I would recommend the magazine for anyone interested in an overview of his work on Who.
Published:
Date: 9th June 1993
ISBN: 0957-5618
Rating:
4.5/10.
Next Time:
About time for a step sideways, so let's make a brief visit to The House on Oldark Moor...
Friday, 20 January 2012
DWM 184: Who Discovered America?, by John Lucarotti
"In the lands of the North, where the black rocks stand guard against the cold sea, in the dark night that is very long the men of the Northlands sit by their great log fires and they tell a tale. They tell of Leif Ericsson, and how he braved the fog at the edge of the world to seek out a new land; and they tell of how he was tricked by a cunning sorceror in a magical blue longboat smaller than the smallest hut..."
That's how the story might have begun had it been written by Oliver Postgate and Peter Firmin. The Sagas of Noggin the Nog predated the start of Doctor Who by more than four years, and ran until 1965. This isn't the place to rave about it, but it is a classic of children's TV - and the books are good too. This story isn't written by the Smallfilms team, though. When I saw the name of the author, having been generally impressed by the writing on Marco Polo and The Aztecs, I was looking forward to reading this. Another Lucarotti historical!
I bought issue 184 of Doctor Who Magazine (along with several others) off eBay a couple of months back, even though I didn't really have the money at the time. I tend to do that - get Who stuff when I see it cheap, and then put it in the cupboard until I can properly afford it. That's part of the deal in our family: you can make the most of a bargain, but you still have to wait to read/watch/listen to/play with it until you've saved up enough pocket money. In this case I didn't have to save up, though, because it became part of my Christmas Haul (along with a number of others I'll be reviewing soon).
First impressions: it's five pages, so quite a bit longer than the 'Brief Encounter' series; and even though that includes large illustrations on each page, you can do good stuff with that amount of room. The characters in the illustrations are recognisable, but by golly artist Paul Vyse has made Barbara and Susan look ugly! Still, no horns on the Vikings' helmets, so I won't be too harsh.
On to the actual text, then, and the loving detail that Lucarotti is famous for...
...is completely lacking. What was he thinking? In the very first paragraph he conflates Ericsson with his father, and completely misrepresents Eric the Red's achievement (he didn't discover Greenland, he settled it). This continues, and the story completely ignores what is known about how Vinland was discovered. This is not just a case of twisting history to accommodate the Doctor, as with Marco Polo's travels - this is failing to take account of it at all. I'm not a Viking expert (despite the picture of me below), and most of what I know about this comes from GURPS Vikings and an excellent radio adaptation of Harry Harrison's The Technicolor Time Machine; but I can spot it when the historical accuracy stinks. Ericsson is also characterised in a childish way that came across as lazy writing rather than satirical.
Still, this isn't just about the history, it's about the TARDIS crew too; so is that any better? It gets off to a bad start with the Doctor stating "curses, Chesterton, something's amiss," which doesn't sound like him to me. After that it does improve, but not dramatically. The problem is cause by a "long circuit" draining the batteries, and they need more plutonium to sort it out. As excuses go, this is in keeping with the show's desire at the time to provide technobabble explanations for the TARDIS' function; but it's still pretty dire. There is also an educational aspect to the story, and I learned something about the geography of the Atlantic coast of North America, but the useful facts are so swamped by the inaccuracies that it's worse than useless even from that perspective.
The events of this story are unbelievable, and I find it just as hard to believe that Lucarotti really wrote this rubbish. The first true stinker of the blog. Give me Noggin any day of the week.
Published:
Date: 18th March 1992
ISBN: 0957-9818
Rating:
1/10.
Next Time:
Let's stick with DWM and look at Rennigan's Record...
That's how the story might have begun had it been written by Oliver Postgate and Peter Firmin. The Sagas of Noggin the Nog predated the start of Doctor Who by more than four years, and ran until 1965. This isn't the place to rave about it, but it is a classic of children's TV - and the books are good too. This story isn't written by the Smallfilms team, though. When I saw the name of the author, having been generally impressed by the writing on Marco Polo and The Aztecs, I was looking forward to reading this. Another Lucarotti historical!
I bought issue 184 of Doctor Who Magazine (along with several others) off eBay a couple of months back, even though I didn't really have the money at the time. I tend to do that - get Who stuff when I see it cheap, and then put it in the cupboard until I can properly afford it. That's part of the deal in our family: you can make the most of a bargain, but you still have to wait to read/watch/listen to/play with it until you've saved up enough pocket money. In this case I didn't have to save up, though, because it became part of my Christmas Haul (along with a number of others I'll be reviewing soon).
First impressions: it's five pages, so quite a bit longer than the 'Brief Encounter' series; and even though that includes large illustrations on each page, you can do good stuff with that amount of room. The characters in the illustrations are recognisable, but by golly artist Paul Vyse has made Barbara and Susan look ugly! Still, no horns on the Vikings' helmets, so I won't be too harsh.
On to the actual text, then, and the loving detail that Lucarotti is famous for...
...is completely lacking. What was he thinking? In the very first paragraph he conflates Ericsson with his father, and completely misrepresents Eric the Red's achievement (he didn't discover Greenland, he settled it). This continues, and the story completely ignores what is known about how Vinland was discovered. This is not just a case of twisting history to accommodate the Doctor, as with Marco Polo's travels - this is failing to take account of it at all. I'm not a Viking expert (despite the picture of me below), and most of what I know about this comes from GURPS Vikings and an excellent radio adaptation of Harry Harrison's The Technicolor Time Machine; but I can spot it when the historical accuracy stinks. Ericsson is also characterised in a childish way that came across as lazy writing rather than satirical.
Still, this isn't just about the history, it's about the TARDIS crew too; so is that any better? It gets off to a bad start with the Doctor stating "curses, Chesterton, something's amiss," which doesn't sound like him to me. After that it does improve, but not dramatically. The problem is cause by a "long circuit" draining the batteries, and they need more plutonium to sort it out. As excuses go, this is in keeping with the show's desire at the time to provide technobabble explanations for the TARDIS' function; but it's still pretty dire. There is also an educational aspect to the story, and I learned something about the geography of the Atlantic coast of North America, but the useful facts are so swamped by the inaccuracies that it's worse than useless even from that perspective.
The events of this story are unbelievable, and I find it just as hard to believe that Lucarotti really wrote this rubbish. The first true stinker of the blog. Give me Noggin any day of the week.
Published:
Date: 18th March 1992
ISBN: 0957-9818
Rating:
1/10.
Next Time:
Let's stick with DWM and look at Rennigan's Record...
Wednesday, 18 January 2012
Past Doctor Adventure 25: City at World's End, by Christopher Bulis
A question occurred to me as I sat down to write this: why does a novel get roughly the same number of words in review as a short story? It takes a lot longer to experience, so why haven't I got more to write?
I think the answer lies in the nature of my reviews and the nature of books. A novel has more room for plot, for characters and for the setting than a short story - but I don't describe any of those in detail. This is partly because I don't assume that my readers have read what I'm reviewing (unlike my TV reviews, where I'm guessing most will have seen them) and partly because I find enough to waffle on about without potted summaries. As the preceding 127 words prove.
On with City at World's End, then, and let's start with the cover. It's very blue, and - to be frank - a bit rubbish. The artist has obviously chosen to give up on realism in order to display the main features of the setting (the threatening moon and the vast ship at the heart of the city) dramatically, which is fine; but the resulting image is badly balanced, full of features that look less dramatic than the description in the text, and, basically, it doesn't work. In fact, the best bit of the cover to me when I saw it was the name of the author, since I had a lot of good things to say about Bulis' writing when I reviewed The Sorcerer's Apprentice. Which also had a poor cover, now I come to think about it.
Still, a cover's just a cover when all's said and done, and you don't have to look at it for long (in fact, most people will see the spine far more often), so what about the story?
As regular readers will have gathered, I like mysteries; and this is a particularly good book for those. Rather than having a big one at the start and then avoiding solving it for the bulk of the story, Bulis keeps handing us solutions but introducing new mysteries at the same time. What's with the dummies? Where is Barbara? What is happening with Susan? Where are the missing NC2s? What is the thing with the red eyes? The list goes on, and I lost track of some introduced early (to which I thought I knew the answer), allowing me to be surprised at the end. A very neat trick.
Also good are the main characters' voices, though the dialogue is perhaps not quite as sparkling as in The Sorcerer's Apprentice. The supporting cast are mostly stereotypes, and it feels like there's less of an excuse for that this time; and while the ideas behind the setting are good it turns out to be duller than it sounds. The story also gets pretty violent towards the end, which is justified given the context but still a bit of a turn-off for me. On the other other hand it's definitely a page-turner that kept me wanting to read more, and it made me care about what happened to some of the locals as well as the regulars.
So, a mixed bag. One thing I noted as I read was how my imagining of the action changed. Possibly prompted by the cover, I saw the prologue with 1980s graphics (or maybe 90s - there was a touch of the Babylon Fives about it); but once we got into the main story I pictured it in black and white, until the final couple of chapters when colour came back. Perhaps this was the tone of the writing? Certainly the parts I saw in monochrome were the kind of image I could imagine being attempted in the 1960s (although, frankly, they couldn't have pulled it off), whereas the others would have been impossible.
Actually, some parts of the story were eminently achievable. I know this because they were achieved! There are a number of events that are straight repeats from televised stories. When Ian opens a door and nearly falls down because there's no floor the other side, for example, or Susan getting hurt early on, or a regular (this time Barbara) groping along a darkened tunnel, or the Doctor having an animated discussion with a fellow scientist... I suspect this was a conscious decision, but either way I don't know quite how I feel about it. It was quaint the first time, but grated slightly after that.
Overall, a fun read that I would recommend - but with caveats. It's in no way a bad book, but it somehow didn't quite live up to my expectations.
An Expanding Universe, Part 6: The Past Doctor Adventures
As mentioned last time, a key feature of Who book publishing is the way it has switched between the BBC and other houses. One of the transitions followed the 1996 TV Movie, when the corporation decided to bring it back in-house. They were fairly canny in how they did this, taking a lot of the features they saw as good in Virgin's line (along with several of the writers), and even some of the plotlines. One key idea was the split into ongoing 'current Doctor' stories (the Eighth Doctor Adventures replacing the New Adventures) and 'past Doctor' stories (PDAs replacing MAs), though the PDAs were less distinguishable than their predecessors. 76 were published between 1997 and 2005, when the BBC decided to concentrate exclusively on the new series.
Published:
Date: September 1999
ISBN: 978-0563555797
Rating:
Mine: 6.5/10.
2011 Gallifrey Base Non-Dynamic Rankings: 6.13, 43rd out of 76 Past Doctor Adventures, 178th out of 286 overall.
Next Time:
That's two future stories in a row, so let's go for something different. How about considering Who Discovered America?
I think the answer lies in the nature of my reviews and the nature of books. A novel has more room for plot, for characters and for the setting than a short story - but I don't describe any of those in detail. This is partly because I don't assume that my readers have read what I'm reviewing (unlike my TV reviews, where I'm guessing most will have seen them) and partly because I find enough to waffle on about without potted summaries. As the preceding 127 words prove.
On with City at World's End, then, and let's start with the cover. It's very blue, and - to be frank - a bit rubbish. The artist has obviously chosen to give up on realism in order to display the main features of the setting (the threatening moon and the vast ship at the heart of the city) dramatically, which is fine; but the resulting image is badly balanced, full of features that look less dramatic than the description in the text, and, basically, it doesn't work. In fact, the best bit of the cover to me when I saw it was the name of the author, since I had a lot of good things to say about Bulis' writing when I reviewed The Sorcerer's Apprentice. Which also had a poor cover, now I come to think about it.
Still, a cover's just a cover when all's said and done, and you don't have to look at it for long (in fact, most people will see the spine far more often), so what about the story?
As regular readers will have gathered, I like mysteries; and this is a particularly good book for those. Rather than having a big one at the start and then avoiding solving it for the bulk of the story, Bulis keeps handing us solutions but introducing new mysteries at the same time. What's with the dummies? Where is Barbara? What is happening with Susan? Where are the missing NC2s? What is the thing with the red eyes? The list goes on, and I lost track of some introduced early (to which I thought I knew the answer), allowing me to be surprised at the end. A very neat trick.
Also good are the main characters' voices, though the dialogue is perhaps not quite as sparkling as in The Sorcerer's Apprentice. The supporting cast are mostly stereotypes, and it feels like there's less of an excuse for that this time; and while the ideas behind the setting are good it turns out to be duller than it sounds. The story also gets pretty violent towards the end, which is justified given the context but still a bit of a turn-off for me. On the other other hand it's definitely a page-turner that kept me wanting to read more, and it made me care about what happened to some of the locals as well as the regulars.
So, a mixed bag. One thing I noted as I read was how my imagining of the action changed. Possibly prompted by the cover, I saw the prologue with 1980s graphics (or maybe 90s - there was a touch of the Babylon Fives about it); but once we got into the main story I pictured it in black and white, until the final couple of chapters when colour came back. Perhaps this was the tone of the writing? Certainly the parts I saw in monochrome were the kind of image I could imagine being attempted in the 1960s (although, frankly, they couldn't have pulled it off), whereas the others would have been impossible.
Actually, some parts of the story were eminently achievable. I know this because they were achieved! There are a number of events that are straight repeats from televised stories. When Ian opens a door and nearly falls down because there's no floor the other side, for example, or Susan getting hurt early on, or a regular (this time Barbara) groping along a darkened tunnel, or the Doctor having an animated discussion with a fellow scientist... I suspect this was a conscious decision, but either way I don't know quite how I feel about it. It was quaint the first time, but grated slightly after that.
Overall, a fun read that I would recommend - but with caveats. It's in no way a bad book, but it somehow didn't quite live up to my expectations.
An Expanding Universe, Part 6: The Past Doctor Adventures
As mentioned last time, a key feature of Who book publishing is the way it has switched between the BBC and other houses. One of the transitions followed the 1996 TV Movie, when the corporation decided to bring it back in-house. They were fairly canny in how they did this, taking a lot of the features they saw as good in Virgin's line (along with several of the writers), and even some of the plotlines. One key idea was the split into ongoing 'current Doctor' stories (the Eighth Doctor Adventures replacing the New Adventures) and 'past Doctor' stories (PDAs replacing MAs), though the PDAs were less distinguishable than their predecessors. 76 were published between 1997 and 2005, when the BBC decided to concentrate exclusively on the new series.
Published:
Date: September 1999
ISBN: 978-0563555797
Rating:
Mine: 6.5/10.
2011 Gallifrey Base Non-Dynamic Rankings: 6.13, 43rd out of 76 Past Doctor Adventures, 178th out of 286 overall.
Next Time:
That's two future stories in a row, so let's go for something different. How about considering Who Discovered America?
Monday, 16 January 2012
Audio Short Trips 1.1: Rise and Fall, by George Mann
My parents had trouble getting me to learn to read; it didn't help that I hated school and my teacher at the time was, to be frank, useless. If I get to the Pertwee years you'll hear more about how I was finally persuaded but that's irrelevant right now, because the bit I want to tell you about is my own six-year-old reasoning. After she'd finally got me started, my mother asked me what the problem had been. I explained that I couldn't see the point of learning to read, because if I wanted a story mum or dad would either read one to me or make one up. Which is logical, you must admit.
Skip forward forty years and, perhaps unsurprisingly, you find me a keen listener of audiobooks. I was also a fan of Big Finish's audio dramas; so why was I reluctant to give the audio short trips a shot? Probably it was due to limited funds making me more conservative in my choices. Again you'll have to wait to find out what changed my mind - but this time, only for a few paragraphs.
As you'd expect from me, I'll state up front that one of the main things Rise and Fall has going for it is William Russell's voice. It's coupled with some lyrical prose that gives him an opportunity to shine, and some very effective sound work. This is a story you can just lie back and enjoy listening to, letting the sound of it drift through your head.
Or, if you prefer, you could pay attention to the story. No, really; I don't mind, and actually it's worth paying attention to. I can't say too much without giving the game away, but Mann has come up with a neat little idea that fits in well with both the short story format and the experimental nature of early Who. This is the only time in the show's history that such a story would really work, and there's also no way this could have been realised on TV in any era - it has some similarities with sections of George Pal's film version of The Time Machine, but the focus is very different. It also has similarities with some of the 'Doctor-lite' episodes of the new series, particularly Love and Monsters or Blink, in that the TARDIS crew are not actively involved in events for much of the story but their presence is felt strongly throughout.
Or at least, the presence of Ian and the Doctor. Susan and Barbara are both sidelined early on, which I often object to, but in this case it doesn't matter, and it's a boon when the reader is Russell. This is a very personal story, but one where any of the crew could have been the main participants. It's also a grand, sweeping story; how you see it depends so much on perspective.
And that's all I want to say.
An Expanding Universe, Part 5: Audio Short Trips
As we shall see again very soon, The history of Who publishing has been marked by oscillations between periods when the BBC has handled it largely in-house and periods when they grant licenses to prolific publishers such as Virgin. In 2009, Big Finish lost its license to produce the Short Trips book series. Since they still had the rights to produce audiobooks they decided to experiment with continuing the range in this format. To encourage buyers they released the first story as a free sample - combined with a great sale, it convinced me to buy the lot; and while it might not do the same for you it's well worth the time to download and listen.
Published:
Date: November 2010
ISBN: 978-1-84435-547-1
Rating:
9/10.
Next Time:
Since I finished reading it last night, and since the order of the stories in this gap is a matter for debate anyway, I might as well move on to City at World's End.
Skip forward forty years and, perhaps unsurprisingly, you find me a keen listener of audiobooks. I was also a fan of Big Finish's audio dramas; so why was I reluctant to give the audio short trips a shot? Probably it was due to limited funds making me more conservative in my choices. Again you'll have to wait to find out what changed my mind - but this time, only for a few paragraphs.
As you'd expect from me, I'll state up front that one of the main things Rise and Fall has going for it is William Russell's voice. It's coupled with some lyrical prose that gives him an opportunity to shine, and some very effective sound work. This is a story you can just lie back and enjoy listening to, letting the sound of it drift through your head.
Or, if you prefer, you could pay attention to the story. No, really; I don't mind, and actually it's worth paying attention to. I can't say too much without giving the game away, but Mann has come up with a neat little idea that fits in well with both the short story format and the experimental nature of early Who. This is the only time in the show's history that such a story would really work, and there's also no way this could have been realised on TV in any era - it has some similarities with sections of George Pal's film version of The Time Machine, but the focus is very different. It also has similarities with some of the 'Doctor-lite' episodes of the new series, particularly Love and Monsters or Blink, in that the TARDIS crew are not actively involved in events for much of the story but their presence is felt strongly throughout.
Or at least, the presence of Ian and the Doctor. Susan and Barbara are both sidelined early on, which I often object to, but in this case it doesn't matter, and it's a boon when the reader is Russell. This is a very personal story, but one where any of the crew could have been the main participants. It's also a grand, sweeping story; how you see it depends so much on perspective.
And that's all I want to say.
An Expanding Universe, Part 5: Audio Short Trips
As we shall see again very soon, The history of Who publishing has been marked by oscillations between periods when the BBC has handled it largely in-house and periods when they grant licenses to prolific publishers such as Virgin. In 2009, Big Finish lost its license to produce the Short Trips book series. Since they still had the rights to produce audiobooks they decided to experiment with continuing the range in this format. To encourage buyers they released the first story as a free sample - combined with a great sale, it convinced me to buy the lot; and while it might not do the same for you it's well worth the time to download and listen.
Published:
Date: November 2010
ISBN: 978-1-84435-547-1
Rating:
9/10.
Next Time:
Since I finished reading it last night, and since the order of the stories in this gap is a matter for debate anyway, I might as well move on to City at World's End.
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