This review is based on the MP3 download from Big Finish, and contains spoilers.

At long last, Henry Gordon Jago (Christopher Benjamin) and Professor George Litefoot (Trevor Baxter) are reunited with Tom Baker’s fourth Doctor. And there are more than a few nods to ‘The Talons of Weng-Chiang’ – that opiate of the fan masses – in John Dorney’s script, despite this otherwise being a stand-alone story rather than a definite ‘Talons’ sequel. The Doctor spends some time digging out his deerstalker and ensemble, much to Romana’s consternation; thanks to their ensuing dialogue this audio gets its visuals just right in the mind's eye. And there are even some familiar bread products available to toast a satisfactory outcome at story’s end. It’s a nostalgic wallow in 1970’s BBC Victoriana – the ideal backdrop for an adventure all about acquiring anachronistic artefacts, as Jago might say.

That the Doctor is accompanied this time by Romana rather than Leela does prevent this from being an all-round reunion, and in some senses it’s a shame that the basic story idea wasn’t held over by Big Finish, or pursued earlier, so that Louise Jameson as well as Tom Baker would’ve had the opportunity to revisit this milieu. However, the change in companion is marked by some lovely moments as Jago and Litefoot are suitably charmed by Romana, though having another character refer to her as an “ice maiden” does seem to hinge too strongly on fan knowledge and production/publicity cliché from back in the day, rather than being drawn out of actual story events and characterisations. Mary Tamm puts in another fine performance, engaging in plenty of banter with Baker, while the verbose alliterative tendencies of Jago (and Litefoot) are repeatedly pushed for their comedic value.

The story itself is rather predictable, and there’s little to relish in the way of Filipino armies advancing on Reykjavik. Whereas ‘Talons’ excelled at sketching in breathtakingly vast and genuinely surprising vistas in just a line or two of dialogue, The Justice of Jalxar doesn’t make such flowing use of what Piers Britton, in his book TARDISbound, refers to as the “epic vignette”. Jalxar's narrative plays out without huge surprises, featuring alien justice-serving technology that's been appropriated by a vigilante dubbed ‘the pugilist’. Although the overall narrative template isn’t earth-shattering, Dorney nevertheless has a lot of fun with its details, giving a very funny superhero gag to Romana, and rewriting one of Conan Doyle’s most famous lines from the Sherlock Holmes canon, as well as riffing on a plot point from A Study in Scarlet, not to mention 'A Study in Pink' more recently.

Jago and Litefoot are as delightful as ever, both as a double act and, separately, as foils to the Doctor and Romana. Part one builds to a precisely engineered, satisfying cliffhanger, though as this is only a two-part story we’re sadly deprived of any further cliffhanging action. If the measure of success is to leave your audience wanting more, then this is a resounding hit. Appearing right after The Sands of Life and War Against the Laan effectively formed a four-part story, I could happily have listened to another two episodes of Henry Gordon and Professor George getting lost in pea-soupers, exclaiming “lawks!” or “crumbs”, and generally offering a lot of mannered, pastiched fun. For true neatness, this could even have paralleled its TV counterpart by stretching to a box set release of three discs and six parts. But perhaps trying to directly emulate the form and reputation of its Hinchliffe-Holmes' model was deemed too high-risk, and what could have been Big Finish Baker gold is instead crafted as a less consequential two-parter. Beyond Jago and Litefoot, the guest cast are all excellent – particularly Mark Goldthorp as Bobby Stamford, who doesn’t have a tremendous amount to do, but sells key parts of the storyline very well.

There’s a startling instant where the fourth Doctor ponders his own guilty feelings, abruptly sounding more like his ninth or tenth incarnations. Baker’s performance modulates between deadly serious and gentle self-mockery, as if neither he nor director Ken Bentley are quite sure how to sell the gambit. If Jalxar technology detects the guilt people feel in their own innermost thoughts, then just how guilty would the Doctor seem to its detectors? Personally, I would’ve liked a deeper exploration of this and slightly less of the “passing wind in a built-up area” whimsy (hailing from the Doctor’s discussion of what people might feel a sense of guilt about). The story deflates any powerful focus on the Doctor’s character, but a new series-style tackling of the fourth Doctor’s woes, all that blood potentially caked on his scarf and his psyche, could have been darkly compelling in Baker’s more than capable hands, even if it might not have taken listeners comfortably back to a fabled 1970’s teatime. Whilst I like my Who to be as Proustian as the next fan, sometimes twenty-first century dramatic intensity is sadly passed over here in favour of better serving the talismanic 'Weng-Chiang'.

In essence, I simultaneously wanted this to be more like ‘Talons’ (a six-part blockbuster with greater implied scope) and less like ‘Talons’ (delving into the Doctor’s unearthly psyche). But in each case, I should confess my own guilt: it was still that rollicking great Bob Holmesian template which dominated my thoughts and responses. And therein lies the greatest injustice afflicting The Justice of Jalxar – it’ll probably always lurk in the giant rat-shaped shadow of a TV classic.

Adapted by Jac Rayner from Paul Cornell’s 1992 novel, this audio version of Love and War was produced to celebrate 20 years of Bernice Summerfield. Since her debut barely a month has gone by without an original novel or audio drama featuring her, quite an astonishing feat for a spin-off character. However, the New Adventures novels have greater significance to Doctor Who than simply giving us Benny. The novels fundamentally changed the types of stories Doctor Who told. Building on the foundations laid in the McCoy era the New Adventures focused on strong-character led stories and ‘adult’ themes in a way which the TV show had never really attempted (or could in its family orientated slot). As such the New Adventures are a key stepping to Russell T Davies’ resurrection of Doctor Who, which would have a far greater focus the characters emotional arcs and everyday lives than the classic series. It is no coincidence that Paul Cornell was among the first batch of writers to work on the show when it returned and that Davies himself penned a novel for the line.

Love and War is one of the New Adventures’ key texts. Along with introducing Bernice it also (temporarily) writes out Ace and takes the concept of the ‘dark, manipulative’ Seventh Doctor to its absolute limit. Despite being Benny’s first adventure the focus of Love and War is squarely on Ace. Her past, her relationship with the Doctor and her new lover Jan are all fundamentally important to the story. This version marks the first time that Sophie Aldred has been able to perform Ace’s departure, an opportunity she clearly relishes and she puts in a very strong performance. Aldred very noticeably ‘ages down’ her vocal performance and mannerisms making this a very different Ace to the one we’re used to hearing in her ongoing Big Finish adventures. It’s great to see Big Finish’s regular actors stretched like this, and it would be good to see more of it in future.

Sylvester McCoy and Lisa Bowerman (as the Doctor and Bernice) also put in very good performances, and have excellent chemistry together. Over the years McCoy has perfected a quiet, contemplative version of his Doctor and puts it to good use here. It’s a shame that Bernice doesn’t have more to do in the first half of the play, but her scenes with to Doctor at the end of the play go some way to addressing this, establishing a relationship very different to the one between him and Ace. These scenes also put forward the idea that the Doctor needs a companion to give him something to fight for, and keep him grounded, a concept which has been hugely influential on the new series, most recently in The Snowmen where Clara lures the Doctor out of retirement.

On the whole Rayner does an excellent job of condensing the action but at times things can feel rushed and confusing. It’s a play that rewards multiple listens, with some of the details becoming clearer the second time around.

Wisely, Jac Rayner’s script doesn’t attempt to update the source material, meaning the early 90s feel of the story remains intact (for example the cyberpunk influenced ‘Puterspace’ scenes and the way that the villains, the Hoothi could be read as a metaphor for AIDS). Consequently the adaptation does an excellent job at giving the listener an insight into this period of Doctor Who’s development.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, given that it is an attempt to recreate a past era of Doctor Who, this adaptation is reminiscent of Big Finish’s Lost Stories series. However, while the Lost Stories focus on recreating scripts which are interesting as historical curios but of little importance to Doctor Who as a whole, Love and War is representative of a significant time in the series’ history. With the TV show dead writers like Cornell were working out new and interesting ways to take the show forward. Now that Doctor Who is back on our screens and in excellent health, this audio gives an excellent insight into the transition it took to get there.

This review is based on the MP3 download from Big Finish, and contains spoilers.

Following on directly from The Sands of Life and its cliffhanger, this two part story continues the Conglomerate’s scheming, as led by their CEO Cuthbert (David Warner). Warner revels in his megalomaniacal role, with Cuthbert buying whatever scientific expertise he needs while going head-to-head against the Doctor and testing the mettle of Earth’s newly elected President, Sheridan Moorkurk (Hayley Atwell).

The Sands of Life configured an intriguing dilemma: respecting the Laan’s life cycle could mean all of humanity facing extinction. War Against the Laan picks up this puzzle, but the titular struggle is not one readily engaged in by the Doctor and Romana. Unlike the ruthless Cuthbert, our heroes are instead seeking a peaceful way to resolve the situation; it’s jaw-jaw not war-war for this TARDIS team, especially given that the scenario they’re up against is not at all an archetypal ‘invasion’.

Nick Briggs’ script gives both Warner and Atwell more to do this time round, and Tom Baker lavishes actorly attention on a number of his anti-Cuthbert expostulations, as well as sneaking a mention of badgers into his performance (I refuse to believe that moment was penned by Briggs, unless and until I see evidence to the contrary!). K-9 basically vanishes from proceedings  – having not been well utilized in this adventure – and Cuthbert also disappears at the very end, leaving the President to tie up a few (but not all) loose ends and bid the Doctor and Romana adieu. A closing scene between the Doctor and Cuthbert would have been more dramatically satisfying and less conventional, but this possibility is instead displaced by a slightly run-of-the-mill goodbye scene.

Combined with The Sands of Life, War Against the Laan ends up feeling like a strangely cosy four-parter despite some of its hard-hitting subject matter. It resists emulating the new series or “doing a Moffat” and shifting its second half to a wholly different time zone, setting or subgenre, and even finds time to revisit Genesis of the Daleks again, after its dialogue had already been referenced in the preceding release. I felt slightly let down by the resolution of the Laan conundrum, though. Having defined a brilliant, epic problem for the fourth Doctor and Romana to tackle, one with a real emotional and moral kick to it, things are clarified here until the main issue is pretty much sandpapered way. Tough questions are posed; easier answers are supplied. Likewise, a scientist whose services are bought and paid for by Cuthbert is called upon to wield his “auto dissect tools” on a child-bearing Laan, and although the emotional darkness of this is gestured at, any moral grey areas are fairly rapidly done away with. War Against the Laan tends to retreat into pulp fiction certainties or dodges, despite depicting a complex world of real politik and rampant commercialism.

There’s a mystery left dangling: Cuthbert’s thwarted experiment in the Proxima Four System evidently concerns some sort of time-space manipulation, but beyond that we learn little of the specifics. Presumably this will be returned to later in the current run of fourth Doctor tales, though the villain who wants time travel is itself a fairly well-worn Who theme. Perhaps Cuthbert wants total brand domination across all temporalities as well as all territories… less the Master, and more the evil Merchandiser. If so, Cuthbert’s moment as a zeitgeist baddie may well have arrived; initially an Audio Visuals’ creation of the Thatcher years, it is striking that he's been reimagined both as Doctor Who itself enters a peak of (anniversary) commercial activity, and as the UK simultaneously faces a resurgence in free market rhetoric and privatization. It seems fitting that the fourth Doctor's contemporary Moriarty figure should be a corporate celebrity, operating outside the law and above the government.  

The Laan are also an interesting creation, pregnant with possibilities, and represented almost as a kind of time-vortex salmon (though they’re actually described and visualized as giant seacows) instinctively returning to a particular space-time to spawn. I realize their massification is part of the story’s bid for scope and scale, but I still would have liked a greater sense of Laan culture or individuation. There are implications and hints – they refer to “sisters”, and there are “elders” who lead the birthing – but when Romana communicates empathetically with them we don’t get much in the way of Laan personality, quirks or differences. Instead, they seem to be a resolute collective; a big society of seven billion or so.

War Against the Laan does an excellent job of building Cuthbert's villainy and character, as well as seeding plot points which are sure to return. As a complete story alongside its predecessor, however, it promises more than it quite delivers. But there's real storytelling ambition on show here, and I'm already looking forward to Cuthbert's reappearance, not to mention the next full-on performance skirmish between David Warner and Tom Baker.            

This review is based on the MP3 download from Big Finish, and contains minor spoilers.

“You must change the channel – even if it’s Space: 1999! Just this once, it’s worth it! The Scorchies are evil!”
Jo Grant

I first met Katy Manning at a convention over a decade ago in my (and back then her) native Australia. The first thing that struck me about her is how extroverted and mischievous she is in comparison to her softly spoken alter ego Josephine Grant. The second thing that struck me was what a talented voice artist she is. She kept her audience thoroughly entertained for an hour by breaking into an assortment of voices belonging to characters she had portrayed in animation and children’s programmes at the time.

The Scorchies, her latest contribution to Big Finish’s Doctor Who Companion Chronicles, is right up Katy’s alley. It gives her the chance to not just reprise her role as Jo but to also voice some of the wacky characters that infest this oddball tale.

In the context of the story, the Scorchies are a bunch of madcap, homicidal extraterrestrials masquerading as children’s TV show puppets! Author James Goss, director Ken Bentley and sound designers Richard Fox and Lauren Yason bring to life a narrative in the guise of a fictional 1970s TV programme that can only be best described as The Muppets, The Teletubbies, Play School, Romper Room and Basil Brush on acid, complete with crazy, juvenile songs – and Jo Grant as a hostage on live TV! Jo is at one point trying to make a psychic anti-Scorchies gun out of cardboard tubes, sticky backed plastic, a pipe cleaner and a mind control crystal. Then there’s the Scorchie (TV) scanner, the sort of thing you might have seen on Play School or Romper Room in your tweens! The story also has a very pantomime feel which is, of course, very deliberate, especially when Jo herself ends up breaking into rhyme with some of the characters!

Like most Companion Chronicles, The Scorchies is a two-person affair. However, unlike previous titles, in which the story is told from the perspective of a narrator, assisted by some additional dialogue from a guest performer, the story is very much carried by the interplay between Manning and guest star Melvyn Hayes who clearly relishes the opportunity to play the villainous Scorchies, led by their leader Grizz Fizzle. Hayes, of course, is the ex-husband of former Who companion Wendy Padbury and father to their daughter Charlie Hayes (who has also appeared in other Who audios). Like Manning, Hayes has also done his fair share of voice work in children’s programmes, including Pongwiffy (in which he also voiced a character called Grizz), a TV adaptation of Jack & The Beanstalk and Super Ted (which, of course, starred the late, great Jon Pertwee). Clearly, Hayes is also in his element, playing other off the wall characters like Cool Cat and Professor Baffle.

I haven’t listened to too many Companion Chronicles so this is the first time I’ve heard Katy Manning as Jo on audio. Although you can sometimes detect the more seasoned tone to her voice, for the most part Katy captures Jo’s naïveté and youth perfectly – impressive when you consider that (her recent appearance in The Sarah Jane Adventures aside) she hasn’t played the part for the best part of 40 years. Even the token Jo piece of dialogue – “But the Doctor can’t be dead! He just can’t be! You’re lying!” – is delivered with the same teary inflection and emotion that Katy was so famous for delivering on-screen all those decades ago.

Indeed, this style of storytelling literally pivots on the back of emotion. In an interview with Big Finish’s Vortex newsletter (which is available as a downloadable PDF file on this release), Katy discusses her approach to mixing her own portrayal of Jo with her other character voices (including the Magic Mice – “Would it help if we ate her a little bit?” - and Amble the ugly doll) on The Scorchies. She says the key to getting all the characters right is by “being in the moment ... with all the emotions that are happening at that time”. With the exception of the songs, which were recorded separately, Katy and Melvyn Hayes effectively performed the story “live”, effortlessly jumping between voices rather than recording the dialogue of each of the different characters separately. As a result, you as the listener get carried along rather convincingly, just as Jo, the hostage to this bizarre collection of aliens, is also powerless to influence the events of the story-cum-children’s programme.

The extras at the end of this release feature an interview with sound designers Richard Fox and Lauren Yason. They discuss the songs they had to compose for the story – Jo is Making a Thing and We killed the Doctor Dead – along with untreated performances of the songs before they were delivered to Katy Manning and Melvyn Hayes and treated electronically. This is actually quite refreshing, as we don’t often hear enough about the actual sound design work on a Big Finish audio, as opposed to the usual interviews with some members of the cast and production crew. What it does underline, though, is how important an aural experience The Scorchies is and how much it exploits the medium.

The Scorchies is an entertaining hour of childish mayhem, almost as if you really were watching a puppets’ TV show – and not listening to a Doctor Who audio. From that perspective, the story succeeds in parodying 1970s children’s programmes. If you’re not a regular listener of The Companion Chronicles, I urge you to try a few of the more conventional plays first. You won’t pick up on the nuances and emotion that Katy Manning refers to if you come to this cold.

Polly finds herself in a literal race against time after the TARDIS brings her, Jamie, the Doctor and Ben to a futuristic casino with a strict ‘no time travellers’ policy.

In the CD extras which accompany House of Cards, writer Steve Lyons and producer David Richardson discuss how they were “channelling” Season Four of Doctor Who in this release. While this may have been their intention, the finished product is reminiscent of a more recent sub-genre of Doctor Who. With its simple storyline, cartoonish villains and broadly drawn supporting characters the adventure feels closest in style to the BBC books/audios produced for younger audiences since 2005 (notably The Stone Rose with which it shares a similar structure). It’s an odd approach for a Companion Chronicle, given that they are geared to a more sophisticated, adult fan audience.

Once you accept that House of Cards is a more straightforward adventure than a typical Companion Chronicle there is much to enjoy here. Anneke Wills gives a typically spirited performance as Polly, with able support from Frazer Hines as the story’s secondary voice. A highlight comes in the first episode when Polly is confronted by Fortune, the mastermind behind the casino. Here Lyons capitalises on Polly’s strong sense of morality, calling to mind similar scenes with the Cybermen in The Tenth Planet.

While the first half of the play is a fairly standard set up, manoeuvring the regulars into varying degrees of peril, things get more complicated as we move into episode two. Here, Polly travels in time back to an earlier point in the narrative, and Lyons has a few clever tricks up his sleeve to stop things getting predictable. The identity of the lady in the china mask, who appears at key points in episode one, is central to this. Lyons deliberately wrong-foots the listener a number of times, making what first appears an obvious ruse a lot more fun than you’d expect. It’s in episode two that Jamie’s role as secondary narrator clicks into place. His present is Polly’s past, allowing us to see the impact her journey in time has had.

You would think that a casino would be a perfect setting for the mischievous Second Doctor but he takes a surprisingly small role in House of Cards. When he resurfaces towards the end of the story he is given a wonderfully ‘Doctorish’ moment (which I won’t spoil here, but concerns the game he picks to play to decide his fate) and it’s a shame there couldn’t have been more of these throughout the play. With Polly’s story neatly wrapped up, it falls to the Doctor to defeat Fortune. However, after being built up as a sinister, formidable foe her swift dispatch is something of a disappointment.

Overall House of Cards is one of the weaker instalments of the Companion Chronicles, but if you’re a fan of Polly and Jamie there are plenty of moments to enjoy. The disc’s extras confirm that Lyon’s will be penning a further adventure for this TARDIS team in the near future. This is welcome news as he captures them all very well, but it would be nice to see him return to the more nuanced, complex storytelling he is widely praised for (stories like Resistance, Colditz and The Crooked World).It would also be good to see more experimentation with the ‘second voice’ in Polly’s Companion Chronicles, as this is the third release in a row that has seen her paired with Frazer Hines as Jamie. One of the most successful aspects of the range as been the pairing of companion actors with co-performers/characters who bring out new and interesting sides of them, and it would be good to see Wills benefit from this, especially as it worked very well in her first Companion Chronicle (the previously mentioned Resistance).

“When do you know it’s time to move on?”, that’s the question Steven Taylor asks himself when the TARDIS arrives in a time he’s all too familiar with. On a remote frontier planet colonists are being attacked by a sadistic band of outlaws known as the Rocket Men, and Steven might be their only hope for survival...

Steven’s abrupt departure from Doctor Who in The Savages is the starting point for Return of the Rocket Men. It takes this disappointing exit and attempts to give it context and emotional resonance, two things that companion exits were often lacking during this period of the show, when characters were frequently and unceremoniously dumped.

One of the most successful previous attempts at fleshing out the emotional side of 60s companions was John Dorney’s The Rocket Men, which this story is a sequel to. That story is one of the most structurally complex and emotionally rewarding plays in The Companion Chronicles range. In invoking that previous work, writer Matt Fitton has given himself a lot to live up to.

In The Rocket Men Dorney focused on Ian’s love for Barbara, something that was never really addressed in the series, but has been a long-favourite fan theory about the characters. In writing a sequel Matt Fitton not only takes on that play’s titular villains (more on them later), but also it’s commitment to strong, character-based drama, using Steven’s departure in the same way as Ian’s feelings for Barbara. The problem is that the emotional hook of Steven’s decision to leave is far less engaging than Ian’s love for Barbara. As the first companions Ian and Barbara have an iconic status that Steven does not. While it’s nice to have Steven’s departure given more context, it’s just not as interesting.

Despite having a weaker starting point than The Rocket Men, the play does manage to give a satisfying level of depth to Steven’s exit. No mean feat given that his departure was so vapid and perfunctory. In doing so Fitton returns to Steven’s origins as a pilot and the character development we have already seen in The Companion Chronicles (notably in the Oliver Trilogy). While this was probably intended to feel like a culmination of threads from previous plays it does feels a little repetitive. The Cold Equations also had Steven’s piloting experience as the crux of the story, and it (along with the stories either side of it) also had him reflecting on the deaths of Katarina, Sara and Oliver. This isn’t to say that it isn’t engaging and well written, it’s just that it doesn’t give the character or The Companion Chronicles anything new.

One of the things that made The Rocket Men work so well was the clever way it used narrative perspective, telling the story non-chronologically, with flashes in the past and future slowly revealing more about how the situation in the present would be resolved. While Return of the Rocket Men does have a certain ‘timey-wimeyness’ (as the new series would put it), the play’s structure is disappointingly straightforward. This isn’t to say that every play in the range needs to be wildly experimental, but it does beg the question of why you would chose to invoke one of the most complex and well received plays in something which shows such little ambition.

There is also the question of why Fitton decided to use the titular villains in this story at all. In their first story they were clearly intended as a pastiche, both of 1940s sci-fi serials and the kind of pulp-inspired villains which often appeared in the early years of Doctor Who. Here however, they are presented as violent, thuggish mercenaries, their roots all but forgotten. The main genre being played with here is the Western, with the ‘pioneer’ colonist staving off an attack by bandits, and the Rocket Men don’t really fit with this setting terribly well. One of them is even given a bizarre fondness for archaic hand-guns in a clumsy attempt to tie the Rocket Men better to the setting. An original creation might have worked better.

All this may make it sound like I didn’t like this play, but that isn’t true. It’s a very solid piece from a strong writer. It’s just that it pales in comparison to it’s predecessor, The Rocket Men, and would undoubtedly work better as a play in it’s own right, rather than being a sequel. The comparison just draws attention to its shortcomings and lack of originality. With the recent announcement that The Companion Chronicles will be coming to an end after Series 8, it would be nice if they could find ways to use the characters in new ways and push the actors in new directions, rather than going over old ground in solid, but underwhelming releases like this.