Doctor Who - Something Borrowed
Written by Richelle Mead
Puffin Books
UK release: 23 June 2013

This review contains plot spoilers and is based on the UK edition of the ebook. 

Puffin's series of short stories continues with something of a triumph for the sixth Doctor’s era. In Something Borrowed, US author Richelle Mead adopts the first person perspective of Ms Peri Brown, as well as having fun with the gaudiness of mid-80s Doctor Who (but not fun at its expense). Here, the Doctor and Peri visit the Koturians, a race who have been so inspired by their experience of Earth’s Las Vegas that they've modelled themselves on its culture. In place of the Strip there’s a “Swathe”, and even an Elvis impersonator turns up at one vital moment. But for all its energetic knowingness, Something Borrowed also refines its Who source material by setting out a coherent, well thought through storyline (not something that could always be said of the sixth Doctor’s TV outings, in my view).

Mead’s decision to use Peri as her viewpoint character means that the Doctor occasionally bursts in on proceedings and has to info-dump what he’s been up to, but on the whole it’s a gambit which further lends coherence and credibility to the tale. Peri’s American vantage point is (perhaps understandably) well realized, but there are also lovely little character moments such as her anxiety about being stared at by a crowd of wedding guests when she and the Doctor are about to intervene in one particular ceremony. Given the story’s title – and its Vegas-esque setting – it probably comes as little surprise to find that there’s a wedding at the heart of matters. But this isn’t Doctor Who-as-romance: nuptial themes are precisely and sharply integrated with a daring scheme that could transform the Doctor’s world (and even Doctor Who) as we know it.

The Doctor and Peri face a familiar nemesis, and though the identity of this villain is eminently guessable it is still a pleasure to encounter them, and in a well-written guise at that. The Doctor’s acerbic reworking of “something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue” may be rather mean, but it’s also very funny, and in keeping with this era’s focus on badinage. At one point the Doctor overcomes some henchman-type creatures (hench-creatures?), and you half expect him to toss out a Sawardian one-liner. But no, rather than caustically quipping, he pauses to express his regret (and I’d love to know if that moment emerged through an editorial note: it really does feel like a knowledgeable fan taking the time to ‘correct’ tonal worries rooted in long-term readings of the sixth Doctor).

The villain of the piece wants a Koturian groom as part of their capricious machinations to ‘borrow’ (OK, steal) something that’s lacking in “most” Time Lord’s capabilities (and the story fudges this by inserting “most” and “definitively” in its eventual explanation, thereby glossing over the debacle of a certain fourth Doctor Dalek story). But what’s most impressive is that while acknowledging details of fan knowledge here and there, the storyline still rockets along and everything dovetails neatly together in a logically and emotionally satisfying way. There are bits of dialogue you can almost hear Colin Baker’s voice saying, they fit so well into his Doctor’s character. And both Peri and the returning baddie are also well served. In light of what would happen later in the run of television stories, a casual threat about the possibility of the Doctor regenerating “sooner” than he might think also resonates rather smartly for the reader.

In terms of character, setting, alien culture, and its villain’s grandiose scheme, Something Borrowed hits all the right notes. Richelle Mead has lovingly borrowed a sometimes unloved period in Doctor Who’s rich tapestry, and not only restored its sense and sensibilities, but also stitched it back together in a new and somewhat improved pattern. Rarely has Peri been this three-dimensional a character. And although the TV programme had begun to recurrently plunder Time Lord lore by the mid-80s, it rarely did so in a particularly coherent manner (something brought home to me when rewatching The Two Doctors at the BFI recently). On this occasion, however, Mead’s handiwork makes judicious use of Time Lord capacities to power the overall storyline. “Impressive” really is the most apposite epithet for this month’s Puffin ebook.

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Reviewed by Tom Buxton

Destiny of the Doctor: Trouble in Paradise
Released by AudioGo
Produced by Big Finish
Written by Nev Fountain
Directed by John Ainsworth
Released: June 2013

This review is based on the CD release from AudioGo and may contain minor spoilers.

"I really need an Omni-Paradox. I need you to store its awesome energy within the TARDIS so I can use it later for a very important thing I’m doing. The existence of the universe is at stake..."

Whereas the first five instalments of the Destiny of the Doctor range have had a lot of common, albeit each boasting their own definitive tone based on the era they represent, from this point onwards it seems as if each of the final six releases will be far more distinct from one another. In the case of Trouble In Paradise, it’s time for Colin Baker’s Sixth Doctor to go under the radar, and it seems fair to say that this release will differ greatly from the McCoy, McGann, Eccleston, Tennant and Smith adventures still to come.

The premise here is simple enough- the Eleventh Doctor calls upon his former self to hunt down an Omni-Paradox, tracking such an element to a 15th Century sailing vessel containing none other than renowned explorer Christopher Columbus. This set-up allows us an intriguing interaction between the Doctor and a man he believes to be one of his greatest inspirations. Of course, as the old saying goes, you should never meet your childhood heroes- and just as Shakespeare and Van Gogh appeared to vastly contradict the Time Lord’s preconceptions, so too does Columbus bear a startling darkness in his heart.

Typically enough for an audio outing which is so intently focused on replicating the tone of its chosen era of Doctor Who, Nev Fountain elects to have the Doctor travel with his most faithful companion of this particular incarnation- Perpugilliam Brown. Nicola Bryant is our narrator of proceedings, then, seeming to inhabit her 1980s role again with breathtaking ease, while additionally managing to provide a fair reproduction of Baker’s protagonist. Nicola is joined by Cameron Stewart, who lends Columbus that aforementioned darkness and moral ambiguity, as we listeners discover that this ‘great’ explorer may not have been the hero that most would have expected.

The narrative of the adventure is helped in no small measure by being prompted by an appearance from the latest version of the Time Lord. In past instalments of the Destiny range, the 50th Anniversary links featuring the Eleventh Doctor worked to the stories’ detriment due to feeling somewhat misplaced, yet by having the Eleventh incarnation be the trigger of events to come, it lends his cameo a greater presence and dramatic impact. Once we’re down to business, though, this tale of ‘El Diablo’ (a supposed physical manifestation of the Devil) is a fairly well-worn adventure that fans will recognise as bearing strong similarities to previous televised and audio stories alike. Nostalgia isn’t necessarily always detrimental, yet it can have a profound negative impact if allowed to dominate a story’s structure and characterisations.

Did Fountain perhaps rest on his laurels somewhat, then? That could certainly be one interpretation of Trouble, a morally ambitious Sixth Doctor audio adventure that seems too intent on paying homage to the past. The problem, though, is that the drama’s writer was quite probably asked to adhere to certain tonal and narrative boundaries in order to properly fit the Colin Baker years without ever stepping too far away from the status quo. During isolated moments, the story does venture into interesting uncharted territory, but too often are these ventures painfully brief and regularly jarring with the ‘classic’ tone of the remainder of this release. This shortcoming doesn’t completely rob the audio drama of its dramatic impact, yet for long-time fans either of the classic era of the show and/or even simply since Doctor Who returned in 2005 (this reviewer falls in the latter category), this sense of déjà vu is something of a sore point. For many, it seems that an overdependence on nostalgia was what killed the programme at the climax of the ‘80s, so with Steven Moffat thankfully focused on ensuring that the 50th Anniversary Special introduces as many new elements as it does reference the past, it seems strange that AudioGo has kept its range so nostalgia-orientated.

Let’s not dwell too heavily on the negative aspects of Trouble In Paradise, however. Indeed, much like the Colin Baker era as a whole, to lament its flaws too heavily is to miss much of this audio release’s charm and wit. Nicola Bryant has slipped effortlessly back into the role of Peri and does wonders with the narration, the direction of the piece is accomplished and Nev Fountain’s script is accessible and empathetic despite its lack of innovation. If this latest entry in the Destiny range does herald a series of distinct concluding instalments, then, we can at least rest assured that AudioGo will maintain their focus on adhering to the tones of each era of the show, for better or for worse. Doctor Who’s past can often be just as much of a hindrance as a blessing, but in this case, it should be of great benefit as the last fifty years of the programme will define one of the most ambitious and innovative audio ranges that fans have yet had the opportunity to experience.

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Council of War
Big Finish Productions
Written by Simon Barnard and Paul Morris
Directed by Lisa Bowerman
Released June 2013

Poor Sergeant Benton. Eight years as a recurring character in Doctor Who, but always in the background, always the butt of his UNIT colleagues’ jokes. Until now that is, in this final regular series of The Companion Chronicles Benton finally gets to take centre stage in a tale of his own.

Rather appropriately for a second rate character like Benton, the perils he faces in Council of War are decidedly second rate themselves. The grandiose sounding council of the punning title is in fact nothing more than the humdrum town council of Kettering. After Mike Yates is unavailable to take the assignment, Benton is dispatched to investigate ghostly apparitions plaguing the council chambers and uncovers a bizarre alien incursion.

Full of bathos, the tone of Council of War is gently mocking, and never turns cruel or nasty. With its collision of the mundanity of local politics and absurd space opera the clear inspiration here is The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, with a dash of Bedknobs and Broomsticks thrown into the conclusion.

The story is almost Doctorless, with he and the Brigadier putting in only cursory appearances, almost as if they don’t deign to be part of such a trivial adventure. This means the action is squarely focused on Benton and the guest narrator, Margery, which gives both characters a chance to shine. Benton gets to be the hero for once, showing off an intelligence that was rarely glimpsed onscreen and Margery is a great character, and a good foil for Benton. She’s a seventies feminist in the same vein as Sarah Jane Smith, but depicted without the slightly mocking tone which crept into the early scripts featuring Sarah. She’s excellently played by Sinead Keenan, who joins Hayley Attwell and Laura Doddington as two of the best young actresses working at Big Finish. Hopefully we’ll be hearing more from her in the company’s future output. Keenan has an excellent grasp of the light hearted tone of the play, handling the comedy and drama of it superbly. Unfortunately the same can’t be said of John Levene who seems to take the whole thing very seriously, which is a shame given the good comic scenes he often shared with the UNIT regulars back in Benton’s TV days.

The first episode builds a good sense of mystery around the events in Kettering and the early scenes conjure up the small town feel familiar from seventies comedies like The Good Life. The pace dips a little in the second episode, with the plot needing to be wrapped up, and the denouement, which hinges not on Benton or Margery but an outside force, is a little disappointing. Despite these niggles Council of War is a great deal of fun, and one of the better Companion Chronicles released so far this year.

Writers Simon Barnard and Paul Morris will be familiar to some from their previous work on The Scarifiers and Bernice Summerfield audios, and their first Doctor Who script marks them out as a pair to watch in future. I’m less sure about future adventures for Benton. With both the character and the actor seeming quite limited it would be wise to keep Council of War (good as it is) as a one off.

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Companions: Fifty Years of Doctor Who Assistants
Written by Andy Frankham-Allen
Released by Candy Jar Books, June 2013

With the 50th anniversary year of Doctor Who in full swing fans are being treated to a near unprecedented level of merchandising. Virtually every week there's a new gizmo, piece of apparel or toy for the deep of pockets to pick up. More than most, those who appreciate a good tome to while away the hours with are being spoiled with an avalanche of books to read about every possible bit of the Doctor's fictional universe and the people in the real world who bring him to life.

Joining my heaving bookshelves is the companions book by Andy Frankham-Allen, a book which promises to "look at the story of 35 of the Doctor's friends who have changed him into the man he is today". The book gives a basic overview of the Doctor's companions on television and their later adventures in the expanded universe of audios and books.

The book is written in a clear, consice fashion and gives a good overview of all the television companions. However, an issue that all books of this ilk face is who is this book aimed at? For long-term fans this book will not be offering many insights into the psyche of companions, or interesting discussions of continuity. For new fans one wonders about the appeal of reading a book of descriptions of things that companions did and felt in an episode when you could spend the £9.99 the book costs on a few DVDs and get a lot more value for your money. Gone are the days where the only way you could learn about companions of days past was by reading a book like David J. Howe & Mark Stammer's Companions of the 1980's - stories from every era are now widely and cheaply available, reducing the need for a book that fills in knowledge gaps.

The book sometimes comes across like it's been copy-pasted from Wikipedia in its character summaries, and it reads in an excessively dry manner. Also, the expanded universe companions are quite poorly served by the book - characters like Evelyn Smythe and Erimem for example are some of the most interesting and unusual companions to have been created, but they are barely mentioned, getting just about a page each. This is a major oversight in a book like this; a lot of novels from the wilderness years are now long out of print and filling in information about companions which newcomers to the series would have never heard of and would be unable to learn about by simply watching television would have elevated this book above the ordinary.

In a marketplace which has books like the majestic About Time series - surely the gold standard for fan books in any genre - The Companions book is a very poor relation.

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Doctor Who and The Curse of Peladon
Originally starring Jon Pertwee
Written by Brian Hayles
Narrated by David Troughton
Released by BBC AudioGo, May 2013

Brian Hayles’ novelisation of The Curse of Peladon was among the earliest Doctor Who adaptations published by Target, appearing on bookshelves in January 1975. Reprinted numerously in the 1970s, 80s and 90s it is one of the more memorable books in the range and it’s surprising that it’s taken AudioGo this long to adapt it.

The Curse of Peladon is one of the highlights of the Jon Pertwee era, seeing the Doctor and Jo taking a rare excursion to another world, and a world which is one of the best defined and realised that Doctor Who had given us up to that point. The story is full of incident and moves along at a fair pace, making the running time of over 5 hours less of an ordeal than some of AudioGo’s other releases. Unlike some of the other early Target novels, Hayles sticks closely to the TV version, making a few additions here and there but mainly sticking to his scripts. However Hayles clearly takes delight in fleshing out his creations, giving us a little more insight into the customs and politics of Peladon and taking the opportunity to make alien delegates Alpha Centauri and Arcturus rather more impressive than they were on screen. Here Alpha’s, octopoid nature is constantly stressed, depicted as a mass of constantly shifting, colour changing tentacles rather than the phallus with hoover attachments we saw on TV.

However, Hayles fails to transcribe much of what worked in the visuals of the TV version. The Curse of Peladon was an unusually lush production for the time and had a distinct visual style. The purple robes, unusual hair pieces and visual iconography of Aggedor which brought the original production to life are not described in the novelisation, with Peladon’s citadel and inhabitants depicted in sparse detail.

Hayles has a rather unusual take on Pertwee’s Doctor, often emphasising the arrogance and egotism of the character (perhaps suggesting a preference for his predecessor). It’s an intriguingly different take on the Doctor, and one of the highlights of novelisations written by authors other than the prolific Terrance Dicks is that they sometimes offer unusual interpretations of familiar characters.

While Hayles’ take on the Doctor is interesting he is less successful in his depiction of Jo. On TV Katy Manning had a tendency to play against lines, managing to show Jo’s intense affection for the Doctor at the same time as chastising him. Here, although her dialogue is the same as the TV version, the narration fails to capture the subtleties of Manning’s performance, meaning she comes across as a constant whinger, who doesn’t seem to like the Doctor or enjoy her adventures at all.

David Troughton, who played King Peladon in the original version, is (as usual) an excellent reader, performing all the alien delegates dialogue with gusto, closely replicating how they sounded on TV, and helped out by some skilful post-production to emphasise their alienness. The story is a sound designer’s dream, filled as it is with crashing thunder, echoing caverns and an assortment of strangely voiced creatures, and is coupled with a subtle yet effective score.

This is an excellently read and produced version of one of Target’s more iconic titles, and will appeal to fans of Pertwee and the early Target novels.

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Phantoms of the Deep
Big Finish Productions
Written by Jonathan Morris
Directed by Ken Bentley
Released May 2013

Writer Jonathan Morris muses in the interview “extras” for this release how surprising it is that Doctor Who hasn’t done many submarine stories, given the potential for ‘base under siege’-type affairs. Of course, Phantoms of the Deep arrives not long after Cold War: you wait years for a sub and then two come along at once. The two adventures share basic structuring devices: both play on feelings of claustrophobia, and both find a way to promptly separate the Doctor from his TARDIS in order to ram home the point that there’s no way out.

Despite basic similarities, however, there are also a host of differences. Cold War needed to expend energy on reintroducing a classic monster, whereas Phantoms is unencumbered by any such need. And where Mark Gatiss’s screenplay necessarily had to pay close attention to budgetary constraints, Morris is free to throw in super squid as well as vampire squid and giant jellyfish: there are sea creatures galore featured here, with Big Finish playing extremely well to its audio strengths. Sound design also helps to convey the tension and isolation of characters trapped in various submarine vehicles, using a host of pinging, echoing underwater and radio communication effects to generate an acute sense of imagined place.

Sometimes across this series of fourth Doctor tales Tom Baker has been given a running gag (it was a desire for hard-boiled eggs in The Sands of Life, for instance), but there’s less obvious tomfoolery on this occasion, and Baker’s performance is all the better for it. He also finally gets to play off John Leeson more substantially, as a repaired K9 is given a far meatier role than he’s had of late. In fact, the cliffhanger to part one represents a stroke of genius from Jonathan Morris, turning one characteristic K9 expression into a chilling expression of threat. It’s a great moment, reminding the listener just how much televised Doctor Who has missed its traditional cliffhangers in recent times.

K9 also gets to communicate with some highly unexpected allies, and at least one event that would probably sound absurd if I summarized it here actually works well in content. Morris’s dialogue also takes the opportunity to poke gentle fun at the K9 prop; offered assistance by Romana, K9 notes that he’s “perfectly capable of traversing flat metal floors”. Along with using the robot dog effectively, Phantoms of the Deep also gives the TARDIS a memorable entrance, and as the cover image makes clear, the Doctor gets to supplement his characteristic costume with underwater/diving garb, venturing the observation that he’s a very strong swimmer. Clearly enjoying putting his lead characters in some unusual settings, Morris’s versatility comes across powerfully when you compare this release with The Auntie Matter; whether crafting Wodehouse pastiche or base-under-siege ghostliness, the writer seems equally at home.

Phantoms does hit a number of eminently predictable story beats, mind you – given that we have a deep-sea sub exploring the Mariana Trench, there’s precious little doubt that something nasty is going to be lurking down in the blackness of the ocean floor. And the title alone promises some kind of spectral presence. But this story still finds ways to surprise its audience – themes of possession may not be earth-shatteringly original, but there are a few new wrinkles to how events play out this time around. There’s a particular emphasis on the mind as well as the body, for instance.

The cast are all decent enough, though I’m not convinced they are greatly challenged by script requirements. Indeed, director Ken Bentley discusses how they rattled through scenes at quite a pace when making the story, and it’s easy to see how the limited settings and small cast would lend themselves to quickfire production. Alice Krige plays Dr. Patricia Sawyer; sadly her character feels a little identikit rather than really coming to life, and likewise other crew-members of the Deep Submergence Vehicle Erebus feel fairly generic – not that the story’s tight focus gives many opportunities for individuation. Phantoms of the Deep is very much action-oriented, so this is a rather inevitable outcome.

Gwilym Lee as young midshipman Jack Hodges is given a more unusual role amid the twenty-first century scientist-explorers, as Phantoms presents us with what, on the face of it, can only be an impossible lad. The collision of different character types doesn’t give rise to perhaps as much dramatic tension as it could, however, and there’s a “fish out of water” story bubbling away under the surface rather than really being given room to breathe. If this were a contemporary TV episode we’d no doubt be offered a greater emotional connection to Hodges and his strange plight, whereas here the emphasis is very much on a mystery to be resolved. Horses for fourth Doctor courses, though: Phantoms still feels like it belongs to its era, despite Morris’s characteristic playfulness. This is a satisfying addition to what has thus far been an occasionally uneven run of Tom Baker and Mary Tamm stories. The inventiveness of Phantoms isn’t submerged by ongoing story strands: it offers a self-enclosed, stand-alone and tension-filled tale before we're due to return to the character of Cuthbert for The Dalek Contract.

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Plague of the Cybermen
Released by AudioGo
Produced by Big Finish
Written by Justin Richards
Read by David Warner, with Nicholas Briggs
Released: April 2013

This review is based on the CD release from AudioGo and contains some spoilers.

Hot on the heels of his appearance in series 7B’s Cold War, here David Warner reads and performs Justin Richards’ recent 11th Doctor adventure. Warner has had many Doctor Who incarnations, of course, playing the Doctor himself in Big Finish’s Unbound range and currently facing off against Tom Baker’s Doctor as the villainous Cuthbert. In Plague of the Cybermen, Warner sells melodramatic moments particularly well and paces his delivery for maximum effect without ever sounding too actorly. He can be counted on to lend a certain dramatic heft to proceedings, offering a safe pair of hands for this sort of thing. 

The story is set between The Snowmen and The Bells of Saint John, and as a result Justin Richards introduces a one-off companion for the Doctor, Olga the local schoolteacher. I did wonder whether a female voice might have helped characterize and embody Olga more effectively. She is already a fairly insubstantial character, though, and it’s a state of affairs that's left unchanged by this reading. Difficulties with the material are a matter of source content rather than Warner’s rendition.

Plague of the Cybermen concerns an invented nineteenth-century village, Klimtenburg, where mysterious deaths have been caused by “Plague Warriors”, and where strange new metallic trinkets have become a kind of local currency. The Doctor is very soon on the case, and Richards’ traditional Who story opts for an almost steampunk rendering of Cybertechnology. Perhaps implausibly, the Cybermen have been able to embed their techniques into clockwork machineries and devices built by locals, leading to a resolutely Cyber-retro feel that’s at odds with the TV upgrade of Nightmare in Silver. These Cybermen deliberately belong to another era, and are very differently hybridized. There is a nod towards Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, with one important character – Lord Ernhardt’s son – being named Victor. And Frankensteinian body horror is never far from the storytelling agenda, as Richards teases us with a game of ‘spot the Cyber agent’.

The real strength of this AudioGO production lies in how David Warner and Nick Briggs (playing assorted electronic voices) are able to capture and convey the story’s emotional heart. For it is the Ernhardt family who eventually lie at the centre of events, with Lord and Lady Ernhardt as well as the ailing Victor all encountering Cybertechnology in a series of ways. In a sense, Plague of the Cybermen tackles head-on, and in a fashion that may even be too daring for the TV series, what happens when themes of “family entertainment” and matters of Cyber-conversion are mercilessly fused. It is a subject matter that’s been tackled fleetingly in the parent show (whether via Jackie Tyler’s alt-universe fate or Nightmare in Silver’s threat to its child characters), but here it becomes the thematic core of events.

If Olga seems rather under-developed, then there are other identity problems, all of which fall beyond David Warner’s vocal reparations. “Classic” Who contented itself with telling adventure romps marked by atmosphere and suspense, whereas it’s starting to feel as if the current era of the programme is marked by what could be dubbed a “tyranny of the reveal”: major plot twists have to be served up, no matter what. As a result, several characters find themselves undergoing revelatory shifts in self-identity – and the tactic is no more convincing here than it was in Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS. This time round, one character is exposed as something other than human, whilst another is ultimately half the person we assume them to be. But these “reveals” hinge on generic science fiction logic, and don’t quite hit home as a result, even with Warner doing his very best to sway the listener. Plague of the Cybermen might have flowed better as a story without feeling the need to incorporate “X was Y all along”-type “shock” moments. And its many reveals – what’s the collective noun for these? A “startle”? A “game-changer” of reveals? – all too clearly expose the narrative machinery of Richards' creation.

Although this is a lengthy listen (it’s spread across 6 discs, each running between 43 minutes to an hour or so), Warner’s performance constantly keeps the energy levels up. And when Nick Briggs joins the fray then his vocal contributions remain as vital as ever. But it’s difficult to avoid the feeling that this is essentially a run-of-the-mill affair. For an original novel published in the 50th anniversary year, and skillfully converted into audio by AudioGO, this somehow seems to lack ambition. Perhaps brand managers didn’t want the TV series to be overshadowed, but whatever the planning that went into this, Plague of the Cybermen still feels a bit like an anniversary year non-special. That’s not to say it’s bad: quite to the contrary, it is a solid Who story enacted with relish by David Warner, who will no doubt further endear himself to discerning Doctor Who fans with this work. But Plague presses so many familiar buttons that it comes across as a Cyber-mashup of tropes, body horror moments, Doctor-ish foibles, romantic subplots, and techno-creepiness. Stitched together from standard-issue sources before finally sparking into dramatic life, this production of Plague is ably carried by Messers Warner and Briggs.

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Reviewed by Matthew Kilburn

The Library of Alexandria
Big Finish Productions
Written by Simon Guerrier
Directed by Lisa Bowerman
Released April 2013

Search for the fourth-century Egyptian philosopher Hypatia on the internet, and among other images will be several of a woman painted in the third quarter of the second century AD. The painting is a face mask, placed over the mummified remains of a dead person, a traditional Egyptian custom reinterpreted for the Graeco-Roman style of the Roman Empire. It was also about two hundred years old when Hypatia was born. The internet generation rediscovered Hypatia as a woman of science and ancient precedent for today’s women mathematicians, engineers and physicists, but it needed an image to act as Hypatia’s standard. This portrait has caught on and is linked with Hypatia on many websites. Hypatia is the guest lead of Simon Guerrier’s Companion Chronicle The Library of Alexandria, and Ian Chesterton’s description of Hypatia (as written by Simon Guerrier) as having 'black wavy hair... cut very short' is reminiscent of that appropriated portrait.

The connection is relevant because The Library of Alexandria is in part about memes – ideas which reproduce themselves through and across cultures as genes do in biology, mutating as they try to adapt to new circumstances. In the manner of the early television stories set in the human past, the TARDIS travellers are visiting a specific event in Earth’s history, the destruction of the Library of Alexandria. As Susan states early in the story, we don’t actually know when and how the Library was destroyed. There are reports that the Library was destroyed by Julius Caesar in 48BC, by the Roman Emperor Aurelian around 274AD, on the orders of Theophilus, bishop of Alexandria, in 391AD, or by the Arab commander Amr in 642AD. Every incident was part of a major change in the government and culture of Egypt. Connections with the destruction of the Library weren’t necessarily made at the time of each incident. According to James Hannam at bede.org.uk, Hypatia, represented as the last proponent of the pre-Christian Greek intellectual tradition, has only been associated with the destruction of the Library since Carl Sagan linked her to its supposed destruction in 391 in his television series and book Cosmos (1980). Susan tells Barbara and Ian that memes are after their time, as they are, the word having been coined by Richard Dawkins in the 1970s; the adaptation of the tale of the destruction of the Library to include Hypatia is after their time too, and its inclusion at the heart of The Library of Alexandria suggests it’s a successful meme within a thirty-three year timescale.

The Library of Alexandria offers the devices of the first season historical stories interpreted within the legacy of the intervening five decades. The post-2005 series with its emphasis on interpersonal relationships is an influence, with Ian having to deny to his companions (especially Barbara) that he has been on a ‘date’ with Hypatia. Likewise Hypatia’s lecturing style and complaints about library departments not talking to one another are rooted in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries rather than the fourth and resemble the presentation of Shakespeare as a media celebrity in The Shakespeare Code. The compression of several allied institutions, such as the reading rooms of the Museion (place of the Muses) into the Library for narrative purposes is a useful shorthand and one with a long pedigree. The anachronistic elements help highlight the differences, though: the descriptions of the tagged books on handwritten scrolls, for example. Hypatia’s first quayside meeting with Ian and her desire to seize the cargo of a book-smuggling vessel humorously conveys the very real ruthlessness of the Library’s acquisitions policy. We even get a short lecture on papyrus manufacture and how many words could be accommodated on a single scroll, which would no doubt warm the heart of Sydney Newman were he still with us. Likewise Newman would probably have liked the direct relation of the Library to twentieth-century research centres and the 1960s space programmes.

Less likely to have won Newman’s admiration are Mim, the monsters of this piece. Like meme the word Mim is derived from mimeme, an imitated thing, and these spacefaring creatures are size-varying, form-changing symbols of the evolution of ideas. Their bodies read situations, can become human-shaped, aquatic or airborne, and unsurprisingly are described in terms drawn from the mythology of the Eastern Mediterranean. It’s a credit to all concerned in writing, directing, performance and sound design that they can be easily visualised in all their many shapes. Toby Hrycek-Robinson’s compositions sound as if they could have been played by the historical instruments Ian finds in the Library’s collection and the music suite is a welcome extra.

Director Lisa Bowerman has recruited another former regular from the early years of Casualty, Susan Franklyn, as Hypatia. Franklyn turns in a confident, flirtatious performance which easily engages both listener and principal narrator. William Russell again shows he can reinhabit the voice and personality of Ian Chesterton, as authoritative over customs men in Roman Egypt as he was over pacifist Thals or petty Arab criminals. He also recovers a lot of the tics of Carole Ann Ford’s Susan, but the Doctor very much draws on the octogenarian Russell’s own experience, fitting as this is a first Doctor viewed through the lens of 2013 as much as that of 1964.

For all the musings on memes, it’s the written word which the characters treasure. Barbara risks her life to save manuscripts from fire and the final scene takes place around one of the most celebrated inscriptions in the history of the rediscovery of ancient Egypt by the modern west. As the final scene suggests, more of the Library survives than just its idea, fragments of its collections surviving in other places to this day; the knowledge held and disseminated from there underpins the 1960s life of Ian and Barbara, and the realities and fictions of Doctor Who.

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The Apocalypse Mirror
Big Finish Productions
Written by Eddie Robson
Directed by Lisa Bowerman
Released May 2013

In a decaying city in Earth’s future steel birds stalk the skies and people are vanishing from the streets. Jamie, Zoe and the Doctor soon learn that the city’s days are numbered, but can they do anything to save it before they vanish like so many citizens before them?

The Companion Chronicles were created to solve two main problems for Big Finish telling stories featuring the first four Doctors. By having older versions of the Doctor’s friends relate stories of their adventures Big Finish avoided the problems of not having an actor to play the Doctor, and the companion actors being much older, allowing them to play the character at a similar age to themselves. The approach also opened up new ways of telling stories, and the rage has often made use of clever framing devices and narrative tricks.

The Apocalypse Mirror is a somewhat experimental release, which moves away from the familiar Companion Chronicles approach described above. While it is narrated from Jamie’s perspective, it lacks any kind of framing device and is highly unusual in that all three of the regular characters are ‘voiced’, with Wendy Padbury on hand as Zoe, and Frazer Hines taking on both Jamie and the Doctor. Big Finish have been keen to promote this side of the play with the DWM preview calling it “the most authentic Second Doctor Companion Chronicle yet”.

In the past Big Finish have been adamant that they would never re-cast the Doctors who are no longer with us, but this play is the closest they have come to this. Since this isn’t a full-cast play they can just about get around calling it ‘recasting’ (as Hines voices all the characters bar Zoe), but it sails very close to the wind. The problem is that even though Hines’ take on Troughton’s voice is very good, it will only ever sound like Frazer Hines doing an impression of Patrick Troughton, rather than the real thing. Recreating the past in such detail feels like a fairly futile aim, and with The Companion Chronicles already offering a neat solution to the lack of the first three actors to play the Doctor it’s hard to see why Big Finish are veering away from a format which works so well.

Given the decision to have all three regulars ‘voiced’, it’s a shame that Wendy Padbury couldn’t have been more to do as Zoe, as she disappears from the story half way through, and doesn’t return until the conclusion. The play’s supporting characters are all drab and forgettable (however, given the revelations in the play about the nature of the city and its inhabitants, the dullness of the characters is probably intentional) and giving one of these characters the second voice, rather than Zoe, might have made them more distinctive.

Where the play excels is in its imagery. The setting of the neglected and part-derelict city is wonderfully evoked in Jamie’s narration, and the Hawkers (the metal birds which grace the CD’s cover) are a memorable and very visual menace. There is a good sense of mystery created around the disappearances of the city’s people and the strange ‘nostalgia sickness’ which causes people to see flashes of the city’s greater days and these mysteries are resolved in clever and unexpected ways. Jamie is used very well throughout the play, with his sense of wonder authentically captured and Episode Two gives him a rather lovely speech arguing against cynicism and despondency.

Overall The Apocalypse Mirror is a play which is high on atmosphere but low on the storytelling complexity we’ve come to expect from The Companion Chronicles. Trying to have all of the regulars voiced is an interesting experiment in the way The Companion Chronicles tell stories, but one which feels like a bit of a backwards step, trying to solve a problem which doesn’t really exist.

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Reviewed by Damian Christie

The Lady of Mercia
Big Finish Productions
Written by Paul Magrs
Directed by Ken Bentley
Released May 2013

"Buck up, Bleaky! You’ve always wanted to see history up close, haven’t you?"
"Not this close – not actually taking part! I never wanted to be locked up and sleeping in filth and dressing up ..."
"Tough – because that’s what time travel is like!"
Tegan Jovanka and Professor John Bleak, The Lady of Mercia

It’s well known that part of Doctor Who's brief as a children’s program back in the Sixties was to educate as well as entertain. Hence, the rationale for the historical serials, where the only fantasy elements were the TARDIS and her crew. The time travellers would visit what the modern TV series now describes as "fixed points" in history, powerless to influence or change specific events but often having to extricate themselves from the politics and petty rivalries of the age.

The tone of many historicals in the Hartnell era was quite earnest, even adult (eg The Aztecs, The Crusade, The Massacre) while others were more humorous in style (The Romans, The Myth Makers, The Gunfighters), although never at the expense of the drama – the Doctor and his companions were often still walking a fine line between safety and danger.

Of course, with some notable exceptions (The Highlanders in the Troughton era and Black Orchid even later in the Davison era), the historical drama was dispensed with after Hartnell’s time, largely because young fans preferred the SF/fantasy element. Big Finish has since its inception revisited the historical format quite frequently and successfully, spanning all of its Doctors, from Tom Baker through to Paul McGann.

Peter Davison’s Doctor has had his fair share of historicals (eg The Eye of the Scorpion, The Council of Nicea, The Church and the Crown, The Kingmaker), most of which were tongue in cheek affairs. The Lady of Mercia continues that vein. Structurally the tale is different from some of the other BF historical dramas (and particularly the 1960s TV historical serials) in that it is as much a time travel story as an historical. It starts unassumingly at a 1980s university, where DIY time travel experiments are occurring in the physics department, a conference about mediaeval queens is about to commence and unruly students are, as one academic character describes it, “revolting” (as much in character, as in vociferious protests!).

Indeed, based on the above description, The Lady of Mercia initially has all the ingredients of a Douglas Adams script, even down to the jibes about students and undergraduates. Certainly, writer Paul Magrs seems to channel Adams a lot in the narrative. When a warrior princess is inadvertently brought into the present and disrupts the opening drinks session at the conference, it seems a little coincidental that a female French academic perceives the princess to be part of the performance, much as the two art critics in the Louvre in City of Death perceive the dematerialisation of the TARDIS to be part of the art. Some of the supporting characters from the university are very flawed in an Adams-esque way too. There is a married couple in the story – an historian and a physics scientist - who have both been engaged in extra-marital affairs. One of these trysts is with a student who is leading the protest against the very same physics department that his lover works for!

However, once the story’s time travel element comes to the fore, The Lady of Mercia gradually morphs from an Adams-esque comedy into a serious historical adventure. Tegan finds herself swept back in time and, despite her best efforts, caught up in the intrigue and politics of 10th century Mercia. Indeed, on three occasions she ends up pretending to be someone she isn’t, initially posing as a "world-renowned" Australian academic historian in 1983, as a princess in England in the Dark Ages and ... well, the third would be a spoiler but insofar as the humour of the story goes, it’s a masterstroke for her bossy character!

Of course, like the Hartnell historical serials, the TARDIS crew, including Tegan, are powerless to stop the natural course of events, despite the sympathies they have for the characters they meet (notably the mediaeval Queen Æthelfrid and her daughter Princess Ælfwynn). And it is in the climax that Magrs is not imaginative enough and overall delivers a fairly dull, disappointing script. If you’re going to create a “warts and all” impression of a historical time, society and place – and Magrs portrays the political situation and the dramatis personae in 10th century Mercia extremely well – then you also need to rock the TARDIS crew to its very core (and through them the listener as well).

I’ve always been struck by the conclusions to other Doctor Who historical tales whereby something tragic happens to a supporting character that you grow to love and respect – if only to reinforce to the companions what an omnipotent , unforgiving mistress history is and how dangerous time travel can be. It happens in Sanctuary (Virgin NA, 1995), The Shadow in the Glass (BBC Books, 2001), World Game (BBC Books, 2005), Doctor Who and the Pirates! (BF, 2003), and even Earthshock (in which, of course, Adric’s demise was part of the web of time). The Lady of Mercia would have benefitted enormously from a similar approach but sadly it peters out to a fairly predictable, lacklustre conclusion. Even then, none of Magrs’ characters – especially the academic characters - are sympathetic enough for the listener to feel any grief if one of them is lost.

Despite the script’s flaws, the production meets Big Finish’s usually high standards and the performances from the cast make the story a lot livelier and entertaining than it truly is on paper. The regulars – Peter Davison, Janet Fielding, Sarah Sutton and Mark Strickson – have all commented that they enjoyed the script because it wasn’t overly complicated, although I don’t feel it necessarily does their characters justice. Janet Fielding is wonderfully ballsy as Tegan and relishes playing the part in a more regal, swashbuckling style but the same cannot be said of her fellow travellers. Nyssa is reduced to the archetypal companion, asking the Doctor the usual questions, while Turlough is the teaboy (much to his disgust) at one point and brawls with an undergraduate for comic effect at another ("I’ll tell you what, posh boy, I’ve made a right Eton mess of your nose!" "It’s Brendon, you cretin! Brendon!"). And Mark Strickson used to complain that all too often in his TV series days Turlough would spend too much time in various states of captivity! I’m not sure Turlough’s lot in The Lady of Mercia is much of an improvement.

The other performances from the guest cast are all competent, with four of the actors convincingly taking on dual roles in both time periods. Although the mediaeval accents are very clichéd (evoking for me shades of Games of Thrones!), the fact that guest star Kieren Bew can sound so different as the menacing Dane knight Arthur Kettleson compared to his whining contemporary part as Barry shows just how talented Big Finish’s performers are.

While The Lady of Mercia is not your run of the mill historical, its premise is too lightweight for a full fledged two hour drama. The titular character’s real story has been mostly lost to history and legend and while Magrs offers a plausible interpretation of how events may have played out, it is not “meaty” enough to have warranted a full cast audio drama. Is it any wonder Magrs includes a time travel sub-plot and injects plenty of humour into the script as filler? This story would have fared better as a 60-minute Companion Chronicle, told from Tegan’s point of view, with much of the university/time travel sub-plots jettisoned. In that format, The Lady of Mercia would have been a more compelling story, particularly if narrated by Janet Fielding who would have given it a great stand alone performance.

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Doctor Who - Tip of the Tongue
Written by Patrick Ness
Puffin Books
UK release: 23 May 2013

This review contains plot spoilers and is based on the UK edition of the ebook.

There can be no doubting Patrick Ness’s credentials as a writer of YA fantasy, and this Puffin series continues to add ‘big name’ authorial value to its month-by-month releases. Reaching the fifth Doctor’s tenure, Tip of the Tongue features Nyssa as the Doctor's sole companion, also including some smart continuity references to Adric and Tegan near its conclusion.

Ness excels at creating fantasy worlds. Here it’s America in 1945, but very much with an alien twist. Strange creatures dubbed 'Truth Tellers' (which attach themselves to their recipient’s tongue) have invaded Temperance, Maine, meaning that locals can indulge themselves in expressing plenty of plain, unvarnished reality. Of course, Ness can’t resist having some fun with this concept, working in a version of a “does my bum look big in this?” gag, but he also strikes a more serious note by illustrating just how much society hinges on degrees of tact, if not innumerable white lies. Constant truth-telling offers a ready way for veracious intruders to disrupt human existence, it would seem.

Appropriately enough, Ness withholds the full truth of his own tale, and as a result there’s a satisfying twist towards the end of proceedings. He relies on his readers’ sense of what constitutes a Doctor Who story (e.g. extraterrestrial threat) to misdirect and mislead, and the “Dipthodat” race are ultimately not quite what you might have expected… If economy with the truth gives rise to a clever denouement, there is nevertheless a danger that this doesn’t always feel exactly like Doctor Who. It’s more of a scenario which the Doctor happens to breeze through, with our celery-sporting hero reduced almost to a guest-star role. Ness is far more interested in his own original characters and their relationships, focusing on the friendship between young Jonny and Nettie rather than centring events on the Doctor and Nyssa (even if the latter’s trousers cause a bit of a stir in 1945 Maine).

Last month’s Roots of Evil simultaneously captured the flavour of fourth Doctor-Leela adventures and conveyed Philip Reeve’s authorial voice, whereas this time round we get more of a character study, and a carefully thought-out, localised transformation of history, but not something which necessarily fits snugly into the Davison era. Instead, Tip of the Tongue skillfully combines its truth-telling theme with a coming-of-age tale, where the reality of the human heart becomes something subtle and malleable – something not fully in the grasp of its teller – rather than a mere matter of reportage. Ness makes us care about Jonny and Nettie, and with more than a hint of “new Who” permeating the turn of events, emotional realism becomes just as important here as the matter of an alien incursion.

Ultimately, Tip of the Tongue contradicts its title; unlike a word that’s almost remembered, yet can’t quite be recalled, this material is always under its author’s control, and it’s a beautifully crafted piece of fiction - a good story first and foremost, and a Doctor Who story second, as if viewed from the perspective of somebody who would usually be a bit-part character. And where child actors can sometimes pose a problem for televised Who, no such difficulties plague the written word. Young characters come into their own in this deft integration of YA fiction and the Whoniverse.

To be sure, Patrick Ness hasn’t written a novella which simply apes family entertainment TV, nor one which offers unbridled SF spectacle in literary form. And, unusually, fan service is almost an alien concept here (bar a few moments of continuity referencing, and the fifth Doctor’s attitude towards travelling companions). But perhaps the most compelling form of “fan service” lies in creating a thematically coherent, intelligent and consistent story-world that never feels programmatic. Tip of the Tongue isn’t a “game changer”. It doesn’t promise any big secrets or any devastating reveals. Yet, perhaps unwittingly echoing Peter Davison’s portrayal of the Doctor, this month’s Puffin ebook combines quiet integrity with true warmth and charm.

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Doctor Who - The Rescue
Originally starring William Hartnell
Written by David Whitaker
Narrated by Maureen O'Brien
Released by BBC AudioGo, April 2013

The Rescue is a rarity in pre-00s Doctor Who. At only two episodes (50 minutes) in length, it zips along at a fast pace handling the series’ first ever companion changeover deftly and swiftly. The idea of a four-hour long reading of an adaptation of such a slim and expedient story is a rather daunting one.

In adapting The Rescue to fill the page count of a Target novel, Ian Marter uses two main tricks. Firstly, (and understandably) he expands on the events of the TV version, including scenes of the rescue ship en-route to find the survivors of the Astra, further background on the planet Dido and its inhabitants, and more exploration of the planet than we saw on screen. Secondly, he writes lengthy descriptive passages about the locations and the action taking place.

Unfortunately, the majority of this protracted description comes in the first half of the story, making it a bit of a slog to get through, but things do pick up past the half way point.

Many of Marter’s additions to the story (particularly the expanded role for the surviving Didoids and the exploration of their history) are very welcome, adding depth and background, while also ironing out some of the dangling threads and inconsistencies in the TV original (such as the rescue ship). However they also lead to a rather odd structure and uneven pacing with this version of the story carrying on well past the defeat of its villain.

Marter is very successful in emphasising and expanding the script’s focus on appearances being deceptive, with this motif recurring in the characters of Bennett, Koquillion, Sandy and the Didoids, along with the terrain of the planet Dido. He also has a refreshingly different turn of phrase and choice of reference points to some of the other Target writers. A particular highlight comes early on in the novel, where Vicki is described at length and compared to Joan of Arc.

One surprising change Marter makes comes in the epilogue. He ends the story on an unexpectedly downbeat note, but one which he has carefully foreshadowed throughout the novel, and it ties together many of the themes of the original script and the additional ones Marter has added.

Marter captures all of the regulars very well and (as previously shown in The Companion Chronicles) Maureen O’Brien is an excellent reader. She’s very good at adopting different styles of delivery (with the exception of a weak American accent), and unsurprisingly, she excels when taking on Vicki's dialogue. One slight weakness is her portrayal of the Doctor, who she performs in an austere tone, meaning some of the humour of the story (present in the script and in William Hartnell’s performance) doesn’t come across, particularly in the Doctor’s early scenes with Ian and Barbara.

Typically, the audio design is very good and the music and effects are subtle, in keeping with the tone of the story and enhance the experience, rather than distracting the listener.

While Marter's take on The Rescue doesn't quite succeed in stretching the story out to fill the required length it is an interesting curio which offers unexpected insights into one of the highlights of the Hartnell era.

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Doctor Who - The Name of the Doctor
Written by Steven Moffat
Directed by Saul Metzstein
Broadcast on BBC One - 18 May 2013

This review contains plot spoilers from the outset and is based on the UK broadcast of the episode. 

“It’s the closest Who’s ever come to poetry, And we haven’t yet reached the anniversary…”

This has to be Steven Moffat’s greatest reversal. Having set up the expectation that we’ll finally learn the Doctor’s true name, instead we get a figure (presumably an unknown incarnation) who has failed to act in “the name of the Doctor". It’s slightly muddled in the execution though: a cheesy “introducing John Hurt as the Doctor” crashing over the story’s events feels like the polar opposite of Sherlock’s on-screen text, being faintly ludicrous rather than classy. And haven’t we just been told in closing dialogue that this Hurt version has failed to carry the Doctor’s name? But no, he's captioned as “the Doctor”. Of course, it’s a moment designed for maximum impact, so perhaps it's irrelevant if it doesn't gel with what we’ve heard.

The same problem – impact over logic – occurs elsewhere in this finale-that’s-actually-an-anniversary-prequel. The Whispermen are its greatest exemplar: they speak in rhyming couplets and look immensely creepy, but we never get much in the way of explanation or rationale for any of this. They may as well be known as Gimmickmen, amounting to precious more than sensation-seeking for its own sake. From the special effects sequence where Dr. Simeon peels away his face and is regenerated afresh we can surmise that these Whispermen are shells upon which the Great Intelligence can imprint information – but given that G. Intelligence Esquire is supposedly pure information without a body, the precise materiality of the Whispermen remains murky. Never mind; they look distinctive and they sound distinctive – perhaps they’re the first entirely self-referential Doctor Who monster, hollow except for the formulaic need to make an instant audio-visual impression.

Sections of the audience may be tempted to describe much of this episode as ‘fanwank’. And there’s certainly no denying the thrill that accompanies seeing the first Doctor and Susan about to escape from Gallifrey. Even here, though, Moffat doesn’t simply deliver fan service. Instead he executes yet another inversion, leading his fellow fans to assume that Clara is about to disastrously undo series’ history – creating a Doctor who’ll never have any adventures – when in actual fact she’s getting the show back on track. Regardless of patchy picture quality and a far from seamless integration of new and old footage, I’m not completely sure that fanwank is quite the right term for this. It’s the ultimate retcon, for sure, rewriting the Doctor’s entire timeline so that the current companion becomes the longest-serving “travelling assistant” in the show’s history (pub quizzes are going to have a field day with all this). Perhaps ‘fan-swank’ would be a better description for such an audacious, showy reworking of every previous production team’s work, and every previous era of the programme, in the image of the current producer-fan showrunner and his creations. In an instant, Doctor Who’s history becomes permeated by the here-and-now; all discontinuities and developments since 1963 are bound together and unified by “the impossible girl”.

But if the Whispermen and the “old man” who may or may not be “the Beast” both apparently represent a demand for attention rather than water-tight storytelling, there are other elements that deliver more immediate substance. The giant Police Box is a wonderful idea, though I wish effects shots had clearly incorporated human figures, so that the scale of this TARDIS tomb could be better established and appreciated. Its brilliance is intensified by the fact that Moffat’s Asylum of the Daleks opened series seven with a giant Dalek statue; the show’s icons have therefore neatly book-ended this (split) run of episodes, transformed into vast story-world monuments to themselves. Of course, this wasn’t the only callback to Asylum, as “soufflé girl” makes a re-appearance, lending the notion a newfound thematic and emotional resonance. Whether or not he plans all these grace notes and motifs, it has to be said that Moffat’s writing creates an impressive sense of unity and wholeness on occasion, even if casting the Doctor and Clara back into the Time Lord’s own time-stream pushes this gutsy desire for a grand unified theory of Who perhaps a little too far.

Moffat also weaves River Song coherently into proceedings, crafting moments of real heart and emotion among the story mechanics. Likewise, the Paternoster Gang are generally well-served, although Jenny’s demise is far too easily taken back, and this twisty-wisty stuff reminded me of problems I had with The Angels Take Manhattan where characters were dead, then saved, then lost again, and all so rapidly that any emotional through-line was sorely attenuated. We also know that Moffat enjoys abruptly collecting characters together across time and space, and the “conference call” allied to dream logic was another great idea which enabled an epic sense of scale to be achieved round one ornately decorated table. However, the ‘stars going out’ sequence was just too much of a riff on a previous Moffat cliffhanger for me, and the impact of this scene was weakened as I began to reminisce about The Pandorica Opens and The Big Bang. It’s one thing to play on fan nostalgia via blurred or re-graded clips of old Who, but I’m guessing that this “universe without the Doctor” business wasn’t intended to activate memories of Moffat’s own previous scripts. Self-referential Who starts to become jumbled up with showrunner self-repetition here, not always to the episode’s benefit.

“Bodies are boring”, we’re pointedly told inside the Doctor’s tomb, as if Moffat is also anticipating fan commentary to the effect that some of these plot points have sort of happened before in Doctor Who, albeit not on television. Lawrence Miles’s novel Alien Bodies revolved around the apparent discovery of the Doctor’s future coffin, and revitalised Who storytelling on its initial 1997 publication. The Name of the Doctor works hard to justify its place as an equally revitalising game-changer, but it left me feeling slightly ambivalent: I partly hope that all this retconning and will-to-unity is tidied away by the end of the anniversary special so that Doctor Who’s history can return to its gloriously ramshackle and uneven pastness rather than being assimilated into latter-day coherence. Clara's blunt assertion that "my story is done" also raises the question of where the character can be taken next.

The real strength of The Name of the Doctor, and one reason why it will live on long after anniversary kerfuffle has died away, and long after excitement over the digital blending of classic and new Who has abated, is that it combines a lot of very funny lines with some beautifully poeticised writing (and I don’t mean the Whispermen’s rhymes). Clara’s heightened, stylized talk of “I blew into this world on a leaf” comes elegantly close to encapsulating life as art. The Doctor’s account of his own time-line is similarly poetic, and even Dr. Simeon is compelled to admonish the Time Lord with a curt request for “less poetry”. Closing dialogue likewise rings out as precisely composed. Moffat’s sheer love for words, and their scrupulous manipulation, shines out in these and many other moments, for example in the need for precise interpretation of "the Doctor has a secret he will take to the grave. It is discovered." Rhythm and metre have rarely felt as central to a Doctor Who script as they do here. It’s just a shame that Moffat’s desire for anniversary unification – seeking to bring together all of Who’s history at the same time as articulating his own prior scripts and creations – reduces new elements such as the Whispermen and the Big Secret Ending to somewhat incoherent attention-grabbing. But viewed as a set-up for November 23rd 2013, it’s hard to fault this blend of showmanship and sheer wordplay.

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Doctor Who - Nightmare in Silver
Written by Neil Gaiman
Directed by Stephen Woolfenden
Broadcast on BBC One - 11 May 2013

This review contains plot spoilers and is based on the UK broadcast of the episode. 

The problem with Neil Gaiman striving to prove that The Doctor’s Wife wasn’t a one-off piece of Who brilliance is that, inadvertently, he might have ended up proving that The Doctor’s Wife was a one-off piece of Who brilliance. Although Nightmare in Silver doesn’t quite make that case, nor does it fully live up to Gaiman’s previous episode.

Things get off to a bumpy start with a moonscape which is far too obviously a stagey set. Its rampant artifice undercuts young Artie’s assertion that they must be on the moon, making him look a bit daft, and it also devalues the initial appearance of Jason Watkins’ Webley. One imagines that, in the screenplay, this moon was perhaps meant to look just like the moon, with the result that a door suddenly springing opening within its dusty terrain would prove genuinely surprising and strange. But here, Webley’s arrival fits right in with a set seemingly designed to look like, well, a tatty old set. As well as upsetting any notion that Nightmare in Silver is going to examine themes of simulation and reality, the Spacey Zoomer ride also upsets fan expectations. It’s presented as an anti-gravity theme park experience, immediately suggesting that the Cybermen will be defeated via a reference back to the Gravitron from The Moonbase. But this “Chekhov’s gun” is very much left unfired, remaining in place as a moment of pure wonder for Artie and Angie rather than becoming a clanking great plot device. If the Spacey Zoomer ride isn’t activated for its story potential, then the Doctor’s golden ticket most certainly is, as Gaiman gleefully toys with fan knowledge. Indeed, this story’s opening gambit seems to be just as loosely based on Marc Platt’s Big Finish audio The Silver Turk as Rise of the Cybermen/The Age of Steel were on Spare Parts, though there’s no end credit for Platt this time round. Perhaps the concept of a Cyber-chessplaying marvel simply occurred independently to both Gaiman and Platt.

Angie and Artie are given a particular narrative rationale – the Cybermen need children as part of their scheming – but this is so rapidly superseded by the Doctor’s utility that the topic of childhood creativity versus mechanical or literal thought is rather blunted. As a result, it becomes hard to see what the child characters bring to events, and why they’re called for here. Gaiman’s story keeps on promising thematic weight, as if rifling through his very own authorial “world of wonders”, only for various themes to be over-run by the requirements of a mass invasion plot and an internalized, schizoid threat. Appearance vs. reality, or child-like imagination vs. machinic predictability, are both subordinated to an action-adventure plotline.

As things turned out, the UK broadcast of Nightmare in Silver was forced to compete with football silverware over on ITV, so maybe the emphasis on brash, colourful action was a canny move. But I wonder whether earlier drafts of Gaiman’s screenplay might have focused more significantly on the theme park setting and on Cyber plans in relation to childhood sensations of awe, wonder and playfulness (something which would have made greater sense of the Spacey Zoomer ride scene too).

Ahead of transmission, much publicity was wrung from the notion that Nightmare in Silver would make the Cybermen scary again. They are certainly given some shiny gimmicks, including head reversal, detachable bits, and the brilliantly realised -mites rather than -matts, along with speediness that stirs up a veritable Cyber-wind. But are they genuinely creepy, unsettling and uncanny? Russell T. Davies decreed that his Cybusmen were steel entities rather than silver monsters – hence The Age of Steel – in an attempt to make them seem more plausible, real-seeming and industrial. In the setting of Hedgewick’s World, battling in Natty Longshoe’s Castle, massed ranks of silver Cybermen somehow feel less real, and more of a fairytale threat, despite talk of Cyber Wars and needing to detonate a planet to destroy just one of their kind. It’s as if the lurid blasts of coloured light (meant to cost-effectively transform real-world locations into Disney-esque simulations of a castle) capture these Cybermen in a glare of unreality. Even when we’re confronted by what should be a jagged, ugly absence in the sky – destruction on an epic scale which supposedly destroyed the galactic Cyber-threat – we’re instead given a visual that looks both flatly stylized and beautifully astral at the same time. An air of artifice floats dangerously around these Cybermen, making their gimmicks seem too much akin to showman’s tricks – “roll up, roll up, see what new things they can do!” The ragged world of Nightmare in Silver also runs the risk of looking as if production values have malfunctioned: ‘Webley’s World of Wonders’ seems a lot like cobbled-together Torchwood and Sarah Jane Adventures’ gubbins, and the Emperor’s craft also feels very familiar in the visual grammar of BBC Wales’ Doctor Who.

Setting budgeting issues to one side, there is an effective guest-star turn from Warwick Davis as Porridge while Jenna-Louise Coleman continues to convince as the highly competent Clara. But discussing this tale without reflecting on Matt Smith’s work would be impossible. Smith gets the opportunity to play both hero and villain, and this duality (sometimes represented very clumsily on-screen) is the real heart of Gaiman’s work. Such character splitting is a well-worn trope of fantasy, but astonishingly it’s not something that’s ever been this fully explored in a battle between the Doctor and the Cybermen, and its inclusion here notably elevates the story’s intrigue. But any mythology-expanding potential is crowded out by too much other business, whether it's massed ranks of Cybermen, explosions, firefights, or a character who might remind some viewers of the ninth Doctor’s survivor guilt. If only this episode had been more prepared to explore a claustrophobic, internal struggle for control of the Doctor’s mind, as well as more extensively exploiting anxiety over whether and when the Doctor is really himself, then Nightmare in Silver could have attained a purity of purpose and a truly terrifying tone. But larded with action-adventure planet-busters, Emperor issues (how many disguised identity subplots and ‘big reveals’ do we need?) and kids to be saved, this all becomes rather overloaded. Or perhaps it’s a case of story as theme park, with lots of different entertainments being toured around without ever cohering into one structure.

Matt Smith’s bravura acting shines through despite the faintly pantomimic visuals of left-side and right-side 'selves'. And the Cyberplanner is all the more chilling for being portrayed through Smith’s performance, even if his renderings of Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant are oddly caricatured. I wish that visual effects could have included strongly CGI-augmented shots of Cyber-components growing and developing into the Doctor’s body, however: the winking lights and facial prosthetic that we’re shown are fairly cartoonish. The outcome is a nightmare that isn’t allowed to be very nightmarish in terms of body-horror or corrupted, violated identity.

As Neil Gaiman’s sophomore story after The Doctor’s Wife, this episode – which could almost be dubbed ‘The Doctor’s Mind’ – is ultimately too much of a mixed bag to hit home. And to depict theme park fantasy and artificiality really convincingly perhaps takes a greater sense of realism than this episode’s production values can always muster.

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Reviewed by Tom Buxton

Destiny of the Doctor: Smoke and Mirrors
Released by AudioGo
Produced by Big Finish
Written by Steve Lyons
Directed by John Ainsworth
Released: May 2013

This review is based on the CD release from AudioGo and may contain minor spoilers.

“Number Five- oh, I remember being you. So young, so breathless with energy, come to think of it, a bit grumpy too, a bit frowny, a bit worried about not being listened to...”

Here we are, then - halfway out of the dark. Well, to be fair that paints a rather pessimistic visage of the Destiny Of The Doctor 50th Anniversary range from AudioGo, which so far has been nothing short of spectacular. Sure, the range has had its peaks and troughs just as any ongoing monthly audio series would, but above all there’ve been a number of compelling plot arc elements making each new instalment well worth a listen. Does the fifth entry, Smoke And Mirrors, follow the tradition of keeping in tune soundly with the tone of its respective era? Without a shadow of a doubt, once again the Doctor-era in question- here the Peter Davison years - has been represented magnificently here, with much of the wonder for the Fifth Doctor waiting to be found across the planet Earth rather than always in the stars as his immediate predecessor would wager. Peter Davison remains perhaps this reviewer’s most treasured classic Doctor, and thus to see his era on the show done such justice here is a truly heart-warming experience (to the ears, in this case!).

That Janet Fielding joins AudioGo for the ride this time around certainly helps in this respect. Janet’s Tegan was always a feisty one, her Australian accent and outspoken nature bearing an influence even today in the realms of Doctor Who- we only need look to that oh-so-nostalgic throwaway reference to the character in Saturday’s The Crimson Horror for proof of that. It’s no easy task for Janet to inhabit the roles of Davison’s Doctor, Sarah Sutton’s Nyssa, Matthew Waterhouse’s Adric and of course her own companion character, so it’s testament to her ability as a vocal actress that such a feat appears, at least on the surface, to have been pulled off with ease and flair. It will be difficult for fans of the Davison years not to feel themselves being immersed once again in the days of cricket bats, battles of wits against Anthony Ainley’s Master and the immense physicality which the new lead brought to the role.

Unsurprisingly, in the latest issue of Doctor Who Magazine, writer Steve Lyons notes that there often wasn’t a ‘definitive’ tone to the Davison era, making the placement of Smoke And Mirrors in non-chronological season terms a little more difficult. Indeed, the excursion that the Doctor, Nyssa, Tegan and Adric make to see none other than Mr Harry Houdini in 1920s England in many ways feels more befitting of the Season 19 days of The Visitation and Black Orchid than it does Season 21’s Planet of Fire and The Caves of Androzani. All the same, the interaction between the leads of the time with Tim Beckmann’s sly Houdini feels spot on in terms of replicating what we might have seen had this story been broadcast on BBC1 back in the ‘80s. There are effective layers of intrigue and fantastical mystery to each element of the tale, not always explained yet still feasible within the science-fiction genre, as has always been the case for even the most whimsical Who outings.

That said, despite the tonal and cast strengths of this fifth entry, there are one or two notable shortcomings. Whereas last month’s Babblesphere managed to provide a innovative satirical plot on top of its era-accurate representations, it feels as if one or two of the ambitious setpieces boasted in this particular storyline would have been better suited in a visual form whereby the listener/viewer was able to feel emphatically the tension and thrills of certain setpieces, instead of simply being left to the imagination in instances where even the classic series’ occasionally ropey CGI might have better served proceedings. It’s more of an overall gripe that can arise with the AudioGo franchise as a whole in terms of what we seen in Doctor Who’s televised adventures on a weekly basis, yet in the case of Smoke And Mirrors it still proves to be a point of ‘failure’ significant enough to warrant highlighting before fans race to stores expecting an audio tour de force which bests all of its on-screen rivals.

In addition, while this flaw appears to be a common point of irritance as the arc of Destiny progresses, it’s important to note that the latest fleeting cameo from Matt Smith’s Eleventh Doctor (voiced by the lead, Janet here, as always) still leaves more than a little to be desired. While it’s clear that November’s The Time Machine should, with luck, provide a satisfying resolution to the requests that our current incarnation of the Time Lord is making to his former selves, for now despite the variety of manifestations the character uses to communicate, there’s a lingering sense of repetition about it all. With any luck, that the Sixth Doctor is called upon in next month’s entry Trouble In Paradise by his future self to investigate a mystery should provide a different spin on proceedings, for now it’s impossible to call the standard deviation arc scene anything more than a disjointed distraction in the context of Smoke And Mirrors.

This much is clear of Destiny of the Doctor from what we’ve heard so far, though: short of any disasters in the range from here on out, this is a range that’s sure to be remembered as a fitting tribute to Doctor Who in the midst of its 50th Anniversary. Working in tandem with the infinite number of books, eBooks, classic DVDs, new DVD boxsets, audio dramas, Proms, conventions, docu-dramas, Culture Show tributes, Pointless editions, board games and other merchandise coming our way this year, not to mention the blockbuster season of new episodes we’re currently watching and the promise of two truly spectacular Anniversary and Christmas Specials to round off the year, Destiny seems to be skilfully blending together all of the components which have made this sci-fi legend such a hit over the past half-century. Halfway out of the dark, then? Nope- we’re simply halfway into the light, and things can only keep getting brighter from here on out…

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