Building momentum over the course of a season’s first half rarely tends to be difficult for skilled writing teams, yet maintaining that momentum poses a far greater challenge.

Take Ghost Mission, the James Goss-penned, Scott Handcock-helmed third instalment of Big Finish’s second series of Torchwood storylines, which undertakes the unenviable mission of not only following up the thrilling capers of TheVictorianAge along with the more nuanced mysteries of Zone10, but equally striving to ensure that Season Two doesn’t lose any of the traction gained so far moving into its latter three instalments. Try as he might, Goss seems to struggle under the weight of the task at hand, presenting more of a filler instalment with only the shallowest of impacts on the run’s wider plot arc that, despite its mildly intriguing premise and competent characterisation, unfortunately doesn’t quite leave as noteworthy an impact as its esteemed forebears.

Before we come onto those contributory elements which hold the piece back from greatness, however, it’s worth noting that there’s plenty here to keep dedicated fans of Torchwood’s most unsung defender of humanity, Tom Price’s ever-lovable Sergeant Andy Davidson, more than content until this month’s fourth chapter – MovingTarget, featuring the return of Indira Varma as the not-so-late Suzie Costello – hits the Big Finish website. For one, Price couldn’t have slipped back into his long-running role with greater ease judging by his hilarious yet sympathetic performance here, easily an aspect of the play which ensures that even when Goss’ script takes a turn for the mundane – more on which later – listeners are all but guaranteed a laugh or two in the meantime, if not a teary eye or two judging by the surprisingly poignant way in which Andy’s latest solo adventure reaches its conclusion.

Don’t take our use of the term “solo” to describe this Cardiff-set excursion as meaning that Andy’s alone in discovering how out-of-the-ordinary chemical slippages connect to the ongoing schemes of the Committee, however: as has been the format of virtually all of the range’s releases so far, Ghost Mission essentially takes the form of a two-hander, with Price’s occasionally bumbling, occasionally authoritative policeman matching wits with Norton Folgate, a ghostly apparition from the 20th Century who’s supposedly come to assess Andy’s viability as a candidate for Gwen Cooper’s newly-resurrected incarnation of Torchwood Three. Samuel Barnett takes on voicing duties here, and a great job he does of it too – not only does he capture the understated charisma which Goss endows the character with perfectly, but he also manages to give the construct enough emotional sincerity to ensure that Andy’s belief in Norton’s convincing account of his connections to the Torchwood organization feels genuine rather than the pair’s partnership seeming like nothing more than a contrived, unrealistic plot device unbefitting of Price’s oft-dubious character.

In a similar vein to past instalments in the series, Price and Barnett are joined fleetingly by a handful of co-stars such as David Warner as a delightfully sinister OAP to whom there may well be more than initially meets the eye, Lisa Bowerman as a Welsh shopper who has the misfortune of coming into contact with one of the previously-mentioned chemical spillages as well as both Laura Doddington and Aaron Neil as the deadly alien Graces whose only real narrative purpose is to serve as a sudden physical obstacle for Andy to overcome as best as he can. This in turn brings us back to this occasionally forgettable third outing’s flaws, however – whereas in April’s Zone 10, both Ella Garland and Geoffrey Breton made sizable impacts during their brief time on air as traumatised astronaut Anna Volokova and an unrelentingly aggressive FSB agent respectively, none of Ghost Mission’s supporting cast members receive any dialogue from Goss that could bring them anywhere close to matching their predecessors, hence why they’re unlikely to be the members of the cast ensemble who leave a tangible impact on the listener’s memory come the credits. Admittedly it’s probably more a case of the inclusion of esteemed thespians like Warner and Bowerman – both of whom shine elsewhere in Big Finish’s catalogue, for example in the Doctor Who Unbound series – raising this reviewer’s expectations of their characters’ presences further than usual, yet even so, that only the two leading players get a true chance to impress here certainly represents a severe missed opportunity on the playwright’s part.

That said, gripes like this one would be far more forgivable if Goss’ central, fairly standalone narrative didn’t leave so much to be desired. It’s fine and dandy for the range’s scribes to divert somewhat from the overarching tale of Torchwood’s centuries-spanning mission to bring down the Committee every now and then, as evidenced by the wholly enjoyableFalltoEarth last October, yet in order for this approach to pay dividends, the procedural plot which said scribe thinks up needs to be just as compelling as its Committee-centred counterparts, if not more-so. Quite to the contrary, though, barring a brilliantly tense exchange between Andy and Warner’s OAP which does lightly tie events back into the Committee’s ever-increasing influence on the lives of Torchwood Three and its allies – even shedding unexpected further light on the events of Zone 10 by revealing how the red key which Tosh was given found its way back through the timelines when Andy first encountered it long after Ms. Sato’s demise – the central plotline feels remarkably pedestrian, rarely developing many themes beyond Andy’s enduring longing to fulfil his own potential or uninspired ‘action’ sequences – such as his attempts to avoid the Graces by hiding in the nearest garbage container – in any great detail, thereby resulting in a rather hollow listening experience that seems all but doomed to be forgotten in a few months’ time judging by the relative dramatic strength of the recently-released trails for both the Season Two finale Made You Look and November’s team-up box-set Outbreak.

Ultimately, then, Ghost Mission can’t quite warrant as wholehearted a recommendation as the opening two instalments of Torchwood’s second series in the hands of Big Finish, owing mainly to the disappointingly unambitious nature of Goss’ latest contribution to the studio’s array of licensed storylines along with the unfulfilled promise of layered performances from studio legends like David Warner and Lisa Bowerman. To its credit, Price and Barnett’s accomplished performances – as well as Goss’ entertaining portrayal of their two constructs – just about serve to keep the play engaging enough to prevent listeners from switching off their CD or MP3 players, but even so, most listeners will all but definitely come away thinking Season Two has lost some of its earlier momentum here rather than maintaining it as hoped; unfortunately, they’re not wrong either.

We’re told that there is a fashion for slow television now, the latest Nordic trend to be picked up by BBC Four. Terence Dudley’s novelization of The King’s Demons is perhaps best appreciated as slow Doctor Who. However, this is no sleigh ride or canal journey. Listening to the audiobook of the story, it feels that every incident is subjected to multiple assessments and every epithet is sent in search of a synonym and in due course an antonym.

Terence Dudley’s practice as a drama series producer was often to emphasise his guest cast at the expense of his regulars. Something similar happens in the book of The King’s Demons where Dudley seems to feel his audience should be more interested in his own creations than they are in the Doctor, Tegan and Turlough. This would be less of a problem were Ranulf Fitzwilliam, Geoffrey de Lacey and the rest better-developed, but instead the listener learns little more about their backgrounds than was disclosed on television. One isn’t actually sure whether Dudley likes the Doctor and Tegan all that much. The Doctor is often priggish, smug and prone to supercilious disclosure of information. More uncomfortable is the characterization of Tegan: to be Australian and female is enough. Once Ranulf has decided that she must be a succubus – a demon who seduced men and weakened and killed them through sexual activity – Dudley likes to return to this as often as he can.

The King’s Demons has less plot than it has situation, and Dudley seems more interested in this than in story. Dudley likes to play a little with the vocabulary of material culture – he’s fond of people drinking from stoups, for example – and there is more in the text to correct the idea that Pip and Jane Baker had a monopoly on arcane and archaic wordplay in 1980s Doctor Who. The King’s Demons is painted on a small canvas but at least it has detail. Sadly a lot of that detail undermines its effectiveness. Archaic vocabulary if not used well can make an author seem self-satisfied. As for its sense of political history, Dudley seems to have read a book on King John which sought to revise conventional assumptions about his reputation, but then misunderstood it. In the novelization, Dudley not only repeats his dubious assessment that Magna Carta should be seen not as a baronial victory over the king but as an expression of enlightened royal policy, but then suggests that the charter King John signed in 1215 wasn’t as important as a later revised reissue under his son Henry III anyway. This may have something to it, but it only emphasises the oddness of the Master’s quest to prevent Magna Carta from being signed.

The source novelisation might be problematic, but this production does its best to overcome the material. Mark Strickson is a polished and sensitive narrator and the music cues are used with restraint and to good effect, though this version misses the lute playing and Strickson doesn’t attempt to sing King John’s song. His Tegan makes one wince but this accurately reflects how badly she is served by the book. Strickson does handle the many two-handed scenes of confinement well, especially the interrogation of Turlough by Sir Gilles Estram. The latter is one of the stronger characters in the book, despite his being a performance by another character, the Master. Strickson’s French accent is more thoughtful even if just as theatrical as Anthony Ainley’s was on television. The story, such as it is, is full of outsiders being cast as other people – the TARDIS travellers as demons, the Master as Sir Gilles, Kamelion as King John – but it ends with their Fitzwilliam hosts and the audience wondering what it was all about.

Sadly this is an audio adaptation for completists and the especially curious only. Terence Dudley’s grasp of what made Doctor Who work doesn’t seem to have been strong, and his belief that Tegan was still at this stage seeking to return to ‘London Airport’ (itself an anachronism in the 1980s) speaks of his detachment from the series’ continuing storylines. The effort of BBC Audio in bringing this to release is appreciated, but it’s a good thing that there remain better books than this to adapt in the novelization range.

I’m not really a football person, and until inspired to do some factchecking by ThisSportingLife, Una McCormack’s new Short Trip for Big Finish, I had only the faintest glimmer of a memory that the World Cup had been stolen when on display in London in March 1966. While This Sporting Life has Steven Taylor dismiss football as an ‘idiotic sport for idiotic people’, Una McCormack’s tale displays her awareness of the power of mythology, of memory and of human kindness, and their role in the layering of the human experience.

Mythology is honoured largely in the juxtaposition of several elements from the lore of Doctor Who and from the popular history of England. Steven arrives sceptical about Dodo’s vaunted ‘swinging city’ and he doesn’t find it, appropriately as this story is set before The War Machines and Doctor Who has not yet started to swing. Similarly Peter Purves’s Lancashire accent is audible here in his narration, his Steven and also his Dodo, a reminder that when Jackie Lane was cast someone thought that to be hip and edgy teenagers still had to dance to the Mersey Beat, or if not sound as if they came from within a few miles of Coronation Street. It's early in 1966, and Dodo shows no awareness that the World Cup will be won by England that year, a victory which became part of a bittersweet legend of misplaced national glory indulged in by some over succeeding decades. Within the context of the story London is superficially still a dusty, fusty city which doesn’t yet boast of its cosmopolitanism.

The title is an irrestistible nod towards the film remembered in Doctor Who histories as the one in which Verity Lambert saw William Hartnell and thought that he was a strong candidate for the part of the Doctor. It’s also an oblique reminder of the initial presentation of the Doctor – a nervous refugee, his presence undisclosed to the authorities of his host world, his granddaughter attending a London school under an identity which doesn’t draw attention to her origins. As far as this story is concerned, the theft of the World Cup is to the benefit of some other refugees who are very anxious to reach their goal, and who bear ready comparison with the Doctor as audiences first knew him.

Employing a character and the actor who played him from the Doctor Who of fifty years ago works very well here. Steven was a man of the future, in some eyes awkwardly placed as the identification figure for the audience of 1966. However, our Space Year 2016 feels a more earthbound one than 1960s audiences might have expected, and Steven can represent our distance from the cultural peculiarities of his and our past. We and Steven are visitors to the environment McCormack builds from elements of 1960s popular fiction, the jobsworth policeman, the solitary goldsmith exiled from pre-war Mitteleuropa, the dark and narrow alleyways of run-down warehouses along the Thames. (It’s a mark of McCormack’s skill that this is conjured up with little use of placenames.) The incidental music complements this, a contemporary sound but with echoes of first and fifth Doctor-era scores.

This all helps fuel the engine of this small but powerful story, which concerns universal values of compassion and how they can, if we choose, overcome the cruelty and cowardice which the Doctor has come to abhor. It’s about being curious but learning to ask the right questions and finding the right answers to them, something at the essence of the Doctor and Doctor Who. Unlike some longer Doctor Who stories, it wears the issue of the Doctor’s involvement in historical events lightly, but in a way which doesn’t trouble the Doctor’s ‘Not one line!’ of The Aztecs very much at all. ThisSportingLife is a happy thirty-five minutes of mystery and resolution which nevertheless makes more than a nod towards facing our own present-day terrors.

When the title of this release was first announced it might’ve been assumed that this release was referring to the Duchy of Aquitaine once ruled over by Henry II’s famous Queen Eleanor. Alas, the idea of a historical cross-over between Doctor Who and The Lion in Winter will have to wait for another day as the title of this story refers to a space ship called HMS Aquitaine. The story opens with the ship’s artificial intelligence Hargreaves left look after things on his own in a scene which put this reviewer in mind of the Red Dwarf episode ‘Kryten’. Further similarities between the Aquitaine and the small rouge one follow as after responding to Hargreaves’ distress signal the Doctor, Nyssa and Tegan learn that the ship is in the vicinity of a black hole. Any listeners with a smattering of sci-fi knowledge will soon realise that the ‘ghosts’ which start appearing are a result of the black hole causing temporal disturbance which surprisingly seems to take the Doctor a long time to work out. However, the eventual explanation for what is really going on and the gradual re-introduction of the missing crew characters leads to worthwhile developments in the story particularly during the second half of the play.

Of the supporting cast, particular mention must go to Matthew Cottle who is kept extremely busy throughout the play as the voice of the AI which controls the ship and the various service robots. His performance is constantly charming throughout and a joy to listen to. It is also a joy to hear Nina Sosanya as Captain Maynard, a role which seems much more rewarding than her TV appearance as Trish in the 2006 TV episode Fear Her. A final mention should go to Big Finish regular Harry Myers, whose Russian accent renders him almost unrecognisable, giving an enjoyable performance as Dr Akunin.

Even though the plot necessitates that the Doctor become separated from his companions the camaraderie between Peter Davison, Sarah Sutton, and Janet Fielding still shines through as strongly as ever. It is also to recommended that this story is very much a standalone from previous adventures and sits comfortably within the TV canon of season 20. This stands in direct opposition to the previous releases featuring Tegan, Turlough and the older Nyssa which were much more reliant on the continuity of previous releases and as such not as accessible to new listeners.

Overall, this story’s enjoyment is largely to be found in its simplicity as it stands neatly on its own. Whilst not being the most entirely original or memorable play ever to emerge from the Big Finish stables, this is still a worthwhile addition to the audio canon. On this form, it can only be hoped that the trio of the Fifth Doctor, Nyssa and Tegan will go on to have many more such adventures.

If March’s Torchwood: The Victorian Age did exactly what it said on the metaphorical tin, then its immediate successor achieves precisely the opposite ambition, subverting the listener’s expectations at every turn, albeit to an even greater degree of success.

Set sometime before the events of the TV show’s 2007 season finale, Exit Wounds, Torchwood: Zone 10 not only develops the Committee arc which has tied each instalment of Big Finish’s licenced range so far together, but also reintroduces one of the original programme’s most beloved players back into the fold in the form of Naoko Mori as the ever-intrepid Toshiko Sato. Like Ianto before her in last October’s high-octane air-bound thriller Fall to Earth, Toshiko’s latest mission revolves as much around her hopes of proving her capabilities as a solo agent to the rest of her team in their absence as it does her investigation into a previously unexplained signal which takes her deep into Russia’s mountainous regions. It’s a shrewd decision on David Llewellyn’s part, one which lets Mori sink her teeth into a tale that expands her character’s occasionally insecure personality as well as offering a meaty mystery to be resolved along the way.

Better yet, far from resting on her laurels, Mori goes out of her way to confirm why fans so fervently called for her return in one of Big Finish’s releases, mirroring John Barrowman, Gareth David Lloyd, Eve Myles and the rest of her televised co-stars’ accomplished reprisals of their respective roles by rendering Toshiko as just as compelling a lead character in aural form as she was on-screen. Whether she’s trading wits with Krystian Godlewski’s secret agent Maxim Ivanov on the Russian slopes or defending the wayward astronaut Anna Volokova’s right to leave the dangerous territory known as Zone 10 as the storyline progresses, Mori shines regardless in capturing the character’s capacity for understated jokes, personal engagement with her cohorts and adversaries, unlikely leadership and willingness to put her life. If anything, over the course of the hour, her sublime performance – coupled with Llewellyn’s accomplished characterisation – only serves to strengthen Tosh’s status as one of her organisation’s most renowned employees.

Neither of Mori’s leading co-stars let her down in this regard, either: thanks to Llewellyn’s narrative casting Godlewski’s Ivanov as an old friend of sorts to Toshiko who nevertheless finds his loyalties tested by his own agency – the KVI, Torchwood’s Russian counterpart – the construct doesn’t so much come off as a clichéd obstacle for our heroine to overcome as a realistically morally conflicted individual whose hands become increasingly tied as more of the KVI’s connections to the Committee come to light, an internal battle which Godlewski portrays with brilliant subtlety. As for Ella Garland, who plays the aforementioned outer space explorer, her character doesn’t factor into proceedings until around the halfway point, yet such is the poignant, immediately sympathetic nature of Garland’s contribution that by the moment Volokova utters her final words in the play, the audience will be just as attached to her as they’ve grown to Mori’s returning Tosh and Godlewski’s expertly-handled Ivanov, if not more-so, which speaks to the raw power of her voice-work. Even Geoffrey Breton intimidates the audience to an impressive as one would hope from the piece's solitary minor antagonist, a KSB agent pursuing Tosh on her quest for the truth, although his airtime admittedly gets limited to but a few minutes at most.

If it seems as if this critique has stopped short of highlighting any chinks in Zone 10’s armour so far, then there’s a good reason for that: virtually all of its contributory elements stand up magnificently to scrutiny, with Scott Handcock’s direction in particular far outdoing his work on April’s The Victorian Age thanks to his decision to sparingly use weather- and firearm-based sound effects so as to aurally create a backdrop for the aforementioned cast members that’s positively dripping with atmosphere. Perhaps Llewellyn could have done a little more to make his latest contribution to the Torchwood range accessible to newcomers, since he seemingly assumes – perhaps rightly – that most listeners will be familiar enough with the Committee from previous releases to understand their impact this time around, yet at the same time, considering that both March’s More Than This and The Victorian Age kept irritatingly clear of this fascinating plot arc, maligning the scribe’s efforts to shed further light on the joint history of this elusive extra-terrestrial body and the newly-introduced KVI would be a hypocritical move to say the least. Suffice to say that anyone who’s shared this reviewer’s desire for the arc in question to kick itself into gear won’t come away underwhelmed in this instance; instead, such listeners will find themselves left enamoured by the now greatly increased likelihood of us finally gaining some closure in the remaining chapters of Season Two.

Even if the Committee arc appears to be moving rapidly towards its denouement at this point in time, however, the same certainly can’t be said of Big Finish’s Torchwood franchise as a whole; quite to the contrary, in light of the ease with which both Season Two’s opener, The Victorian Age, and now its sophomore instalment – Zone 10 – have reinvigorated the series after Season One ended on something of a rough note, the show’s immediate prospects in the realms of audio couldn’t appear more promising if Russell T. Davies were to be writing the remainder of the run. That sentiment in itself speaks wonders for how far producer James Goss as well as his masterfully selected team of writers have brought the range in the space of just eight months. Indeed, if future monthly releases continue to build upon the superb performances, atmospheric directorial work and tight scripting employed by Llewellyn for Tosh’s spectacular comeback, then chances are that by the time Outbreak rears its long-awaited head in the closing months of the year, we’ll be left in no doubt as to why BBC Worldwide chose to resurrect one of Doctor Who’s most popular spin-offs in audio form rather than on TV. We might be no closer to seeing Jack Harkness, Gwen Cooper and the gang return to our screens ten years on from their debut in 2006’s Everybody Changes, but between releases like these and Titan Comics’ just-announced dedicated Torchwood strip – set to launch this Summer – there’s no denying that the show remains in as rude health as ever regardless.

Believe it or not, there’s something inherently satisfying about experiencing a work of fiction which successfully does precisely what it says on the tin.

Torchwood: The Victorian Age mightn’t come packaged in a tin – depending on whether one opts for the physical or digital edition, it’ll either be encased in plastic or megabytes – but the point certainly still stands; for better or for worse, it’s an audio drama which makes little pretence regarding its goal of standing as a light-hearted, structurally fast-paced thriller that effortlessly keeps its audience entertained. If the second season of Big Finish’s ever-increasingly accomplished continuation of the titular Doctor Who spin-off were to comprise completely of such thematically lightweight escapades, then there’d of course be cause for concern, but in terms of reminding fans of the original TV series how much fun the show’s characters – regular and supporting alike – can have when the writing team allows them a moment to let their hair down, it’s as fine a freshman outing as any to be sure.

As its sub-title suggests, rather than pursuing the Torchwood Three team’s non-linear quest to trace and apprehend the enigmatic Committee in present day Cardiff, The Victorian Age takes both Jack Harkness and Wales’ aforementioned capital city back a couple of centuries to the days of Queen Victoria, pitting both the good captain and indeed the monarch herself against an alien menace intent on stealing the youths of as many victims as possible. Naturally, these efforts to prolong life on the part of the piece’s antagonist enable writer AK Benedict to delve into the well-worn realms of Jack’s inability to shed his mortal coil, albeit via an unexpectedly layered commentary on why the relative brevity of the reigns of rulers like Victoria can in fact prove to be far more of a blessing than a curse. Whereas Pauline Collins took on the role of one of Britain’s longest-serving queens back in 2006’s Tooth and Claw, it’s Rowena Cooper – who also appeared in The Sarah Jane Adventures serial Lost in Time, incidentally – who takes the character’s reins here to glorious effect, adding a further layer of pathos to Victoria’s emotionally sympathetic discussion of how she lacks the necessary time to fulfil all of the ambitions she set out for herself when her reign began.

If that all sounds rather maudlin, then as we mentioned above, rest assured that it’s hardly representation of the rollercoaster-esque tone of the overall storyline: Cooper and especially John Barrowman must have had a riot of a time recording their dialogue, at least if the constantly chuckle-worthy, surprisingly multi-faceted rapport their characters strike up through their conversations over the course of the hour is any indication. In stark contrast to his more sombre performances in the far darker The Conspiracy or Uncanny Valley, Barrowman unsurprisingly relishes the opportunity to showcase the sassier, raunchier ex-Time Agent with whom many viewers fell instantly in love in 2005’s hit Doctor Who two-parter The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances, giving as good as he gets whenever Cooper’s Victoria attempts to gain the upper hand in terms of authority or general wit. There will most likely be some members of the listenership who find themselves at first a tad disappointed by Benedict’s election not to venture in the morally murkier waters we saw Torchwood’s most loyal recruit enter over the course of the show’s first season of audio adventures, yet Barrowman’s relentless zest and energy are all but guaranteed to win them over once more within minutes of proceedings getting underway.

Nevertheless, it’s worth noting that The Victorian Age’s admirable commitment to producing a caper-style narrative which only rarely delves beyond the surface of its characters’ psyches doesn’t come without a few minor faults. Much as it’s something of a welcome relief to see Big Finish’s Torchwood range take a turn for the more whimsical given how adult – to say the very least – Season One’s tone became on occasion, there’s an inevitable lack of true emotional or philosophical depth which sets the release apart from some of the TV show’s finest hours like Captain Jack Harkness, Adam, Exit Wounds and Children of Earth, though mercifully that doesn’t mean the listening experience feels anywhere near as close to a chore as was the case with Yvonne Hartman’s alcohol-laden trip through the streets of Cardiff in last year’s One Rule. Add in a few technical blemishes – despite a great play on Murray Gold’s classic “Captain Jack’s Theme” and some convincing sound effects involving the footsteps of the horses Jack and Victoria mount in pursuit of their foe, the score itself leaves something to be desired, rarely hitting the rousing notes one would expect of an on-screen thriller of the same ilk – and another disappointing refusal on Benedict or perhaps producer James Goss’ part to acknowledge the overarching Committee plot threads which have been left obtusely hanging since Uncanny Valley launched earlier this year, and it’s fair to say that for all of the piece’s achievements, there’s still absolutely room for improvement by its successors in the months to come.

Yet if Big Finish’s take on Torchwood over the past six releases can be seen as just a hint at what lies around the corner for the range, then by this point, little doubt should really remain in our minds as to the studio’s capability to ensure that future releases continue to evolve and adapt to combat their predecessors’ flaws – Uncanny Valley provided Barrowman with a more well-rounded storyline than the still accomplished The Conspiracy, while this November’s three-part Outbreak looks set to remedy fans’ gripes with the lack of full-cast audio dramas commissioned to date, all of which only serves to confirm that the licence couldn’t be in better hands. Better yet, given the success with which they’ve had here at providing a thrilling historical outing complete with superb performances and a delightfully unexpected – if fleeting – thematic insight into both an esteemed fictitious character and a renowned real-world leader, it seems that Torchwood Three – or Torchwood Cardiff, as it was once evidently known – has not only a bright future to look forward to in the years between now and 2025, but a similarly bright past to boot.