“What’s more, as these [phonographs] become more popular, there might be a market for selling copies of the best acts ... Ha ha! Obviously those more suited to an auditory experience, dramatic recitations or even full cast drama – all delivered through the medium of sound!”


A year after Doctor Who triumphantly celebrated its golden anniversary, Big Finish (BF) is celebrating a milestone of its own – 15 years of entertaining fans with Doctor Who audio dramas. When BF first acquired the rights to producing audio Who in 1999, the TV program was on ice and its revival still another six years away. In that time, the company’s Doctor Who output now numbers hundreds of titles (well above the 190-plus releases in the so-called “main” range, if you add the Fourth and Eighth Doctor adventures, Companion Chronicles, Lost Stories and other special releases). In addition to producing numerous Doctor Who spin-offs that have explored popular and even obscure parts of the Whoniverse – eg Gallifrey, Jago & Litefoot, Counter-Measures, Dalek Empire, I, Davros, Iris Wyldthyme, Professor Bernice Summerfield and Vienna – the company has had the confidence to also secure the rights to other cult franchises and maintain a high level of quality and consistency that comes out of the deep affection, passion and dedication that the writers, producers, directors and performers have for their material.

Like its 50th anniversary counterpart The Light at the End last year, The Worlds of Doctor Who anthology is effectively Big Finish’s self-congratulatory pat on the back – as well as a gesture to the fans for their support over 15 years. Unfortunately, like The Light at the End, Worlds isn’t the most original or audacious of Doctor Who releases. Certainly there is an ambition to tell a broad story that threads its way through the rich, diverse tapestry of the Whoniverse, it’s just a great pity that the threat/villain of Worlds is so underwhelming and that the stories are for the most part so bland.

The villainous Rees, a Victorian era magician and hypnotist who subsequently defies human nature, is one-dimensional, both as a linking concept and as an antagonist. Without giving away too many spoilers, it’s tempting to say the character is a carbon copy of Dr Walter Simeon in the Doctor Who episode The Snowmen, even down to having a remote and brooding childhood and developing paranormal powers that take on a life of their own. Rees’s motives, particularly in the initial Jago & Litefoot instalment Mind Games are over-simplistic and sadistic. Indeed, because you are aware that the villain appears in all four instalments of the anthology, it practically removes all mystery and intrigue in the later stories. The Reesinger Process, the second instalment featuring the Counter-Measures Intrusion Group characters, provides some conjecture and conundrums in the course of the plot but little surprise at the climax. The title of the third serial - The Screaming Skull - is itself virtually a dead giveaway (pun intended!), although it is the most action-packed, entertaining and well written of this lot of serials. The final instalment Second Sight provides us with some insights into Rees’s back story and why he has become so powerful but aside from being a malevolent presence, the character remains grossly underdeveloped and unsophisticated. That said, Jamie Glover (who portrayed William Russell/Ian Chesterton in last year’s An Adventure in Space and Time) gives Rees charisma and authority for such a sketchy adversary.

Given Big Finish has set out to market its wares through this special release, then it will take some solace that it may lure in some curious listeners. The Jago & Litefoot and Counter-Measures instalments are virtual advertisements for those respective series, although you thankfully do not have to be an avid listener of them to enjoy Mind Games and The Reesinger Process. Justin Richards, who pens both episodes, makes them generic enough from the boxsets that you won’t be raising your eyebrows at allusions to other episodes (although no doubt if there are any, they are a payoff for avid listeners). You only need, of course, to be familiar with the characters from classic Who serials The Talons of Weng-Chiang and Remembrance of the Daleks (and even for modern series fans who won’t have seen them, those serials are readily accessible on DVD). Certainly Christopher Benjamin (Henry Gordon Jago) and Trevor Baxter (Professor George Litefoot) bring the memories flooding back with flawless portrayals of their very popular characters, and some of their dialogue, banter and comic timing is extremely well written by Justin Richards (Litefoot to Ellie Higson: “Then I shall be delighted to chaperone such a charming and refined companion!” Jago: “Oh, thank you Professor ¬─ and we’ll let Ellie come along too!”) It is just a pity that the episode in its own right is so weak.

The Counter-Measures team also scrub up well, considering that their characters in Remembrance of the Daleks were even less developed than those of Jago and Litefoot. Pamela Salem (Rachel Jensen), Simon Williams (Group Captain Gilmore) and Karen Gledhill (Alison Williams) reprise their roles effortlessly and Richards does an admirable job of fleshing out their characters and in particular their civil servant supervisor Sir Toby Kinsella (superbly played by Hugh Ross ─ “Rachel Jensen, you know I don’t do smug!”). Again, though, The Reesinger Process is little more than a framing device for this anthology and the big guest star names in Sinead Keenan (familiar to fans from appearances in modern Doctor Who and Only Human) and her real life brother Rory Keenan are wasted in their roles as sister and brother team Stephanie and James Wilton, the heads of the “mysterious” Reesinger Institute. Even The Screaming Skull is probably designed to encourage listeners to try out BF’s Doctor Who Companion Chronicles range, given that Jonathan Morris’ tale is partly a sequel to his offerings Tales from the Vault and Mastermind with American UNIT officers Ruth Matheson and Charlie Sato (the 1996 TV movie’s Daphne Ashbrook and Yee Jee Tso respectively). Having been compromised by the Master in their previous appearance, the two UNIT officers are given the opportunity to redeem themselves by returning to the Vault that stores extraterrestrial and supernatural artifacts recovered by the paramilitary organisation. Ashbrook and Tso’s enthusiasm for Doctor Who, despite their brief association with the program, is apparent not only in their performances but also in the “Behind the Scenes” CD in which they discuss their encounters with fans at Doctor Who’s 50th anniversary celebrations last year and their gratitude for being able to bring Matheson and Sato’s characters to life. Indeed, while Sato’s fanboy character in Mastermind irked this writer, his cheek in the face of danger in The Screaming Skull is memorable. Sato’s dialogue with the disembodied Rees, in which he goads the villain into revealing his plans before realising he is to go under the knife, is priceless and Tso injects plenty of humour into this exchange.

The Screaming Skull also nicely references Mind Games and The Reesinger Process and while this episode is a marked improvement on those chapters, this is down more to Morris’ strong writing, characterisation and tongue-in-cheek humour. Even then, the story is not without at least one irritant – the Terravore which stalks Matheson and Sato in the corridors of the Vault is a cross between a Dalek and the Skovox Blitzer which recently appeared on television in The Caretaker! (The Terravores debuted in the 2011 Sixth Doctor adventure The Crimes of Thomas Brewster.)

In another twist, The Screaming Skull also prominently features a reinstated Captain Mike Yates (Richard Franklin) who subsequently fills the “Brigadier” role when he recalls the Doctor (“ol’ Sixie” Colin Baker) to Earth for the final chapter Second Sight, written again by Richards in conjunction with Nick Wallace. While this tale also features Gallifrey regulars President Romana and Leela (Lalla Ward and Louise Jameson), it is more of a Sixth Doctor adventure than a Gallifrey tale and therefore unlikely to motivate casual listeners to investigate BF’s Gallifrey range. While they are as solid as you would expect, Ward and Jameson are horribly underused and Franklin is also rather superfluous to this instalment as Yates (he fares much better in The Screaming Skull). You could even argue the role of “ol’ Sixie” in this tale is symbolic – BF, after all, is largely credited with restoring the fortunes of the much maligned, lamented Sixth Doctor and the popularity of Colin Baker himself in the eyes of long-time Who fans. Certainly, the Sixth Doctor that we meet in Second Sight is Baker’s mellower, more likeable portrayal over the past 15 years and not the abrupt, impolite persona who graced our TV screens in 1984-85.

Although Second Sight explores the villain’s origins and how a character that starts as a common garden Victorian serial killer becomes a powerful menace to the wider cosmos, the final chapter is very dialogue-heavy and expository. Considering events in this serial should be drawing to a dramatic conclusion, the resolution is, if anything, dull and underwhelming. By establishing such a potent threat, Richards and Wallace set themselves up for a fall – they’re not able to devise a climax that is dramatic and nail-biting. At no point in this story do you feel that the Earth and the human race are truly under threat from the Rees malevolence. Not even the prospect that the malevolence could potentially infiltrate every aspect of our daily lives is as unsettling as it ought to be. You come away from this boxset feeling as if the story still requires closure.

Indeed, given the ambiguous ending to Second Sight and the anthology as a whole, it’s disappointing that popular archaeologist companion Bernice Summerfield was not included in the boxset to confront Rees in the 26th century, perhaps alongside Miles Richardson’s brilliant Irving Braxiatel. After all, as Lisa Bowerman points out in the CD extras, her involvement with BF stretches back to the inception of Bernice’s audio adventures ─ a year before the company obtained the Doctor Who licence. Nevertheless, Bowerman makes a dual contribution to The Worlds of Doctor Who - she is a director of the plays alongside Ken Bentley and she also plays cockney barmaid Ellie Higson, Jago and Litefoot’s impulsive, loyal friend.

As a cross-media promotion, The Worlds of Doctor Who may appeal to listeners who would like to sample the greater Doctor Who audio range and its numerous spin-offs. In turn, it’s a nice gesture for the company to be able to celebrate its output and pay back fans for their long term dedication and emotional and financial investment in its products. However, if you’re looking for something original, exciting and innovative, with substance and intrigue to boot, The Worlds of Doctor Who sadly isn’t it. You will get better examples by delving deeper into BF’s back catalogue.

The Brood of Erys packs a classic Doctor Who premise – arriving in a star system containing just a single planet and its accompanying moon, as well as an array of radio beacons lining its boundaries, the TARDIS intercepts a mysterious transmission informing its crew that their lives will be in jeopardy should they venture any further. Naturally, the Doctor and Flip (Lisa Greenwood) travel into the metaphorical heart of the danger zone, only to find themselves and their vessel latched onto by a family of “curious” extraterrestrial beings called the Drachee (think the Slitheen, but with subtler and less frequent expressions of gaseous exchange and, mercifully, far less slapstick humour).

There’s something charmingly innocent about the concept of a horde of alien toddlers exploring the deepest recesses of the TARDIS in order to simply learn more of the unknown (not least due to the high-pitched voice of their leader) – and something inherently hilarious about the characteristically melodramatic and agitated reaction offered by Colin Baker’s incarnation of the Doctor – yet as is virtually always the case in narratives taking place within the so-called Whoniverse, the situation turns sour in a matter of moments. Flip is taken hostage by those same individuals who claimed themselves to pose “no danger” whatsoever, while her self-appointed protector is forced to take refuge on a damaged space yacht – and, soon enough, the planet Asphya itself – with an amnesia-prone female humanoid who can’t remember her own name, let alone her dark history or the influence it’ll have on events to come.

In spite of the commendable sense of scale conveyed by these initial eventful set-pieces, Brood’s narrative comes to focus far more on psychological demons than it does physical antagonists, a rare attribute which previously worked to great effect in televised serials such as 42 and Midnight and which certainly doesn’t do the story any harm in terms of building the intrigue surrounding its constructs and the somehow-sentient moon of Erys. Central to writer Andrew Smith’s prolonged investigation of the inner workings of the mind is this notion of an intelligent planetoid and the ramifications its sudden (or gradual) metamorphosis could have for its inhabitants. Of course, as plot elements go, a sentient moon is by no means a completely original addition to the series’ lore (although one might argue that nearly fifty-one years on from November 23rd, 1963, it’s nigh-on impossible for today’s scribes to give birth to wholly unique antagonists) – The Doctor’s Wife’s House comes to mind as a recent example of how such a conceit can be implemented efficiently within the realms of modern science-fiction (and, indeed, modern Who) – so it’s a great relief to see Smith take such a contrasting approach to his predecessors, intertwining the arcs of the aforementioned amnesiac, the Drachee (who offer up an all manner of simultaneously humorous and quasi-philosophical insights into the current predicament facing Erys and the system as a whole) and the spherical landmass which gives this particular audio drama its name to such an extent that one can’t fail to be swept up by the mystery surrounding both of them.

That said, while Smith undoubtedly manages to subvert expectations of the traditional representation of adversaries who attack via the mind rather than through any physical manifestation, Brian Shelley’s voice work as the mental embodiment of Erys isn’t quite so successful in this regard. Sure, there’s genuine enthusiasm and vigour present in Shelley’s portrayal of one of the more abstract (and therefore challenging) forces conceived by the minds of Big Finish in recent years, but when it’s juxtaposed with Michael Sheen’s chilling vocal contribution to Neil Gaiman’s aforementioned 2011 TV story, it’s all but pointless to attempt to argue that the former performance is anywhere near as memorable or layered – instead, it comes off as rather derivative, as if Shelley has dedicated a considerable amount of his spare time to watching psychologically investigative serials like The Brain of Morbius in order to hone his contribution to the ever-expanding world of Doctor Who spin-offs (if such a term can even begin to do justice to the increasingly accomplished and ambitious work of Big Finish and its various writing teams) rather than focusing on putting his own engaging spin on the dialogue afforded to him in the notably generous script (that several scenes rely wholly on his ability to match and / or surpass Lisa Greenwood’s evident enduring passion and conviction doesn’t help matters either).

If Shelley is the play’s weakest link, then Baker and Greenwood are easily the two central components which (in tandem with the near-unparalleled intelligence of Smith’s delicately-structured and thematically subversive storyline) hold it all together. Both of these talented thespians have had more than enough time to develop their portrayals and to tailor them to cater for the preferences of Big Finish’s constantly expanding Doctor Who-orientated fandom and, unsurprisingly, they’ve done so with enviable ease, to the extent that they’re now seemingly able to transform even the most exposition-centric sequences into dramatically engaging exchanges that reward the attentive listener in unexpected ways regardless of whether or not they feed directly into the narrative’s denouement. The sixth Doctor in particular is taken completely and utterly out of his comfort zone as the situation at hand shifts out of his control and unseen forces manipulate proceedings in order to suit their own ends, instantly enabling Baker to flex his performing muscles as his character’s increasingly desperate attempts to rally against his newfound nemeses begin to seem more and more futile.

After months upon months of mediocrity, then, Big Finish’s Doctor Who audio dramas may well have found their footing once again with The Brood of Erys. Andrew Smith – unlike several of his esteemed predecessors - doesn’t rely on the series’ past tropes in order to strengthen the credibility of his tale, nor does he integrate needlessly contrived references to classic or modern serials in a similar vein to those scribes who fear that they’ll lose their listeners’ attention should they neglect to include such call-backs in the mix. There’s still room to improve in future sixth Doctor productions, of course – perhaps it’d be worth Smith becoming more involved with the casting process when it comes to selecting a truly accomplished voice actor to portray his next storyline’s central antagonist, since Brood’s brilliantly subversive script certainly more than warranted such talent – but to paraphrase John Hurt’s already-beloved War Doctor, for now, for this moment, this is the show we’ve come to know and love again.

To say that the character of Sil (played then and now by Nabil Shaban) was one of the antagonists with which this reviewer didn’t particularly engage during his initial (and subsequent) viewings of various serials from the sixth Doctor's era would be a gross understatement. Much as the more open-minded fans amongst us might champion the various highlights of Colin Baker’s tenure on the TARDIS – indeed, Revelation of the Daleks and The Trial of a Time Lord are both stuffed to the brim with ambition – there were undoubtedly times between The Twin Dilemma and The Ultimate Foe where Doctor Who’s then-terminal status at the BBC was, for the most part, justified.

Ever masters of the art of subverting expectations, however, Big Finish deserve considerable credit for refusing to be intimidated by using some of the more controversial adversaries in the show’s extensive backlog. Shaban’s hyperactive, sickeningly corrupt ‘businessman’ (if such a term can be attributed without causing offense to those real-life individuals whose job title reads identically) is back in full force in Antidote to Oblivion, “whether you like it or not” (to paraphrase a similarly loathed line of dialogue from The Twin Dilemma), constantly conspiring to manipulate the residents of a far-future incarnation of the UK on behalf of his equally-seedy superiors at the Universal Monetary Fund. Regardless of whether one adores or bemoans the construct in question, the relish with which Shaban portrays him is completely evident throughout and if nothing else warrants more than a little admiration.

On the other hand, writer Philip Martin’s insistence on mirroring the aforementioned guest star’s fidelity towards his past work cannot be excused so easily. Try as it might to differentiate from what’s come before by emphasising the somewhat refreshing character dynamic between the Doctor (Baker) and his incumbent companion Flip Jackson (Lisa Greenwood) as well as placing Sil in a far more vulnerable position than we’ve arguably seen him so far, Antidote could very well go by the alternative name Best of Sil and, if anything, would probably have received further plaudits for paying homage to the character’s previous appearances so accurately. That’s clearly not Martin’s intention, though, as by including a semi-indoctrinated community of underground dwellers in the narrative, he seems to attempt a form of dystopian satire aimed at our race’s present overreliance on financial gain and related paperwork, only for the all-too-familiar structure, cliff-hangers and underdeveloped characters presented within it to rob the drama of any opportunity to be credibly scrutinized and interpreted on an academic basis.

For every thorn, of course, there remains a hidden-yet-certainly-present rose (yes, that’s a slightly altered idiom, but what’s the use of a good quote if you can’t change it?), and in this instance, despite the other Baker’s rendition of Gallifrey’s one-time lone survivor not always being held in the same lofty esteem as Tom’s or the rest, the penultimate regular classic incarnation earns himself plenty of justice. Gone is the hilariously self-ridiculing take on the character which Colin offered in last year’s monumentally successful 50th Anniversary mockumentary The Five(ish) Doctors Reboot, replaced by a far more passionate and consistent portrayal made possible by Martin’s accomplished distribution of worthy dialogue. Flip, meanwhile, mightn’t exactly rank up with Sarah-Jane Smith and Amy Pond as one of Doctor Who’s more beloved companions (though that’s through no fault of Greenwood’s own – quite to the contrary, it’s scriptwriters such as Martin who cruelly neglect to give the oft-forgettable character meaningful arcs), yet Greenwood’s actual performance is every bit as layered and engaging as her co-star’s work.

It’s ultimately the lack of ambition present in Antidote to Oblivion which overtly distinguishes it from superior Big Finish dramas such as (to name but a few recent examples) Starlight Robbery, U.N.I.T. Dominion and the exemplary Destiny of the Doctor range, an infuriatingly persistent shortcoming of late in the studio’s Doctor Who range which needs fixing as quickly as the twelfth Doctor needs to determine whether or not he can truly call himself a good man when the show returns to our screens next month. Whilst we’re all but guaranteed a resolution of some kind for the latter dilemma in Series Eight, that this flaw has restrained a number of storylines in the 2014 Who audio range offers us less cause for immediate confidence in the former department. Chances are that the studio are saving their piece de resistance for their impending multi-serial collection The Worlds of Doctor Who in October, yet given that their own 50th Anniversary Special – The Light at the End – was hardly flawless, not to mention that 2013 brought with it a commendable number of accomplished Big Finish dramas even before Light, the notion of remaining unperturbed by the increasingly diminishing returns-esque nature of their recent output is becoming ever more challenging as the months progress.

“So this is all just a big publicity stunt for the benefit of mankind?”

After an underwhelming debut last month, the 1963 range continues in the midst of Doctor Who’s 50th Anniversary celebrations with its second instalment, The Space Race. Colin Baker’s incarnation takes centre stage this time around, accompanied by his ever-faithful sidekick Peri Brown. Unless there are intricate story arc elements hidden beneath, it appears that the three chapters of this trilogy will be standalone in nature, with its penultimate outing based around the titular international unspoken competition to reach the Moon first in the 1960s.

To writer Jonathan Morris’ immense credit, from the outset this month’s adventure aspires to greater accomplishments than Fanfare for the Common Men did in October. While there are echoes of Doctor Who episodes old and new throughout, The Moonbase and Cold War among them, simultaneously there’s a refreshing sense of narrative innovation as the Doctor and Peri find themselves embroiled in an extraterrestrial conspiracy which could transform the human race. It’s tragic, then, that Morris’ storyline descends into borderline farcical territory in its second half once the tale’s primary antagonist is revealed, all but ruining any dramatic tension evoked by the powerful opening two episodes.

As ever, The Space Race’s central and supporting cast are its primary redeeming assets. Baker’s portrayal is consistently impressive and more well-rounded than the depiction of his incarnation was in its televised form. Nicola Bryant equally gets a deservedly extensive length of time to flex her vocal muscles alongside her regular co-star and the piece’s supporting members. Of the aforementioned ensemble, Karen Henson is the release’s standout highlight as the enigmatic Larinsa Petrov, bettering the performances of her co-stars in adding new layers of emotive depth to a character who could easily have descended into a representational stereotype in the hands of another actress.

Where this particular instalment thankfully doesn’t get bogged down is in its balancing of homages to the past and bold modern storytelling. Fanfare was an all too disappointing reminder of the dangers of overdependence on nostalgia, so if nothing else this reviewer was reassured to see that Morris doesn’t allow his references to the events of 1963 to overshadow the integrity of his core narrative. If The Assassination Games can retain this established balance as it wraps up the 1963 saga, focusing on the homeland political affairs of the 60s through the eyes of the Seventh Doctor, then perhaps all has not been for nought in Big Finish’s celebratory venture.

All the same, it seems nothing less than a crying shame to be terming this project as such after all of its initial promise. Neither Fanfare of the Common Men nor The Space Race have come anywhere close to matching their studio’s best efforts of 2013, and although the latter does admittedly come nearer to attaining the standard fans should expect of 50th Anniversary tie-ins, it’s still a way off from the highs of Starlight Robbery and The Light at the End. Fans of Colin Baker’s Doctor who have thought his incarnation to be underserved in his televised stories will no doubt be thrilled to witness the sixth Time Lord at his best here, but those thrills will soon subside when The Space Race’s promising narrative loses its dramatic impact at its halfway point. I’ve seen a substantial number of colleagues ask where the best entry point into Big Finish’s Doctor Who universe is- while the answer to that question is difficult to clearly define, I can say without reservations that there are far superior places to head first than the 1963 trilogy on the basis of its mediocre second release.

Following their eventful voyage to Venus, the Doctor, Jago and Litefoot are looking forward to a celebratory pint, but the TARDIS has brought them astray. Stepping onto the shores of a new world, they are immediately embroiled in the mysterious disappearance of the colony of English settlers on Roanoke Island. Who are the ghostly children that haunt this unfamiliar land? And what do they want with Jago?

From the Mary Celeste to the Loch Ness Monster, Doctor Who has long delighted in creating its own solutions to notoriously unexplained events. Here writer Matthew Sweet has turned his eye to a somewhat obscure historical mystery, the English colony of Roanoke, which was found deserted in 1590. The play is also (as the new series would put it) a ‘celebrity historical’ with Sir Walter Raleigh putting in an appearance, and many of the other characters based on real life figures. This being a lesser known section of the past, a history lesson from the Doctor would have been useful at the start of the play, rather than at the end, when he assures his companions that history is back on the right track.

With three lead characters and only an hour’s running time Litefoot takes a back seat in this adventure, leaving most of the interesting stuff to Jago and the Doctor. The scenes of Jago being haunted by the sinister children are the play’s highlight. Creepy kids are one of the standard horror movie convention, and one that Doctor Who has used surprisingly little in its 50 year history, and they are effectively used here, with their presence signified by unsettling indistinct giggles.

While the chemistry between Jago and Litefoot is typically strong, their pairing with the Sixth Doctor doesn’t feel right. The Sixth Doctor has propensity for pomposity and grandiose turns of phrase, traits he shares with Jago and they don’t quite work together. Wisely Matthew Sweet separates them for most of the play, teaming the Doctor with the more sedate Litefoot.

The play is oddly structured, which can at times be confusing. The pre-credits see the TARDIS arrive on Roanoke and a flash forwards to later events in England. Following the credits there is an ellipsis with the audience left to piece together what has happened in the gap. This is a trick the current TV series often uses, and here it feels rather clumsy and confusing. Rather than a clever trick to speed up the narrative or play with narrative structure, it feel more like a judicious cut has been made to get the story to fit its running time, especially as the rest of the play unfolds at a normal speed. The 'flash forward to England' scenes exacerbate the problem, as they further fracture our sense of what is happening when.

Like many recent Big Finish plays, the plot hinges on what we’ve come to call ‘timey-wimeyness’. Such plots are hard to get right without the audience feeling cheated, which is sadly the case here, especially as the plot all hinges on the TARDIS, rather than a force separate from the Doctor. The conclusion feels rushed and unsatisfying, and after listening to it twice I’m still not sure it makes sense.

Despite these faults this is a well produced play which is strong on characterisation, performance and atmosphere. The previously mentioned scenes with the children, especially the exposition scenes of Jago and fellow captive Eleanor are decidedly creepy. Overall it’s an average slice of Doctor Who, (which neatly leads Jago and Litefoot on to their next series of adventures without the Doctor) but not one of Big Finish’s greatest offerings.

After years of devastating war with a mysterious force know as the Eminence, humanity is finally starting to recover. The enemy has withdrawn and the last of its strongholds are being torn down. But when the Doctor and Mel arrive they discover that the war is far from over, for the Eminence has played a long game, and is ready to make the final move...

The Sixth Doctor and Mel are a pairing who have long been problematic for Doctor Who fans turned-writers. The two characters are often seen as totemic of the Doctor Who’s fall from grace in the 1980s and its eventual cancellation. Consequently many authors have sought to redeemed the characters in some way, something that Big Finish's writers have gone out of their way to do, especially in the company’s early years.

The Seeds of War is another in this long line of attempts to rehabilitate the characters and the era, but it approaches this in an interesting and rather unique way. In writing this story Matt Fitton and Nicholas Briggs have woven together numerous pieces of storytelling TV stories from the Sixth Doctor and Mel’s tenures on the show (seasons 22-24) and made them work a lot better than they did on TV.

The story’s opening is taken directly from Paradise Towers in a way that is a little disconcerting until you realise what is going on. The Doctor promises Mel a wonderful dining experience at the renowned Great Tower of Kalsos, but when they arrive they find the tower derelict and well past its glory days. However, rather than simply replaying Paradise Towers, the story moves on, zipping from location to location, encompassing more disparate elements of Sixth Doctor TV adventures as it does so (specifically Timelash and Trial of a Timelord parts 9-12).

Key to this is the concept of the ‘imagined sequel’, borrowed from Timelash. In that story the revelation that the Third Doctor had previously visited Karfel added little to the plot other than a sense of nostalgia. Here however, the Doctor’s previous encounter with the Eminence is absolutely integral to the plot. Keeping us in the dark about the Doctor’s past adventure it means that the writers can work in an important twist which changes the nature of the story. Listener’s who want to get the most out of The Seeds of War are advised to treat this is the Eminence’s first outing, rather than waiting for their chronological debut in Briggs’ Fourth Doctor play, Destroy the Infinite, which will be released next year.

But The Seeds of War isn't just a rewarding intellectual experiment, it also tells an exciting and involving story. The play is rigorously structured, with each episode moving the action to a different location (from the tower, to a spaceship, a colony world and finally Earth), while ratcheting up the stakes and adding to the mystery surrounding the Eminence as it goes. If there is one thing that lets the play down, it is that the conclusion is a little too reliant on events which occur ‘off-screen’ (as it were), meaning that the defeat of the Eminence doesn’t quite feel earned. However, the final scene with the Doctor and Mel is an utter joy, and for my money the best moment the characters have shared together in any medium.

The Seeds of War is a strong outing for Mel, as the only character who doesn’t know anything about the Eminence she’s very much our viewpoint character for the first half of the play, and we learn about the enemy as she does. Bonnie Langford is particularly strong playing Mel’s self-righteous anger, and the scenes where she berates Trellack are a world away from the character’s irritatingly priggish demeanour in Trial of a Timelord’s courtroom.

The play’s supporting characters are rather generic ‘space people’ which isn’t necessarily a problem in a story like this, but this production shows what a difference good actors can make. Ray Fearon and Lucy Russell put in such good performances as Barlow as Trellack that the other actors pale by comparison, and scenes without Baker, Langford, Fearon or Russell can be a bit of a drag. However, these scenes are necessary to give us a sense of the time and place we are in, and give a sense of the aftermath of war. Thankfully the fast pace of the play means these weaker scenes are kept to a minimum.

After over a decade of successful Big Finish productions based on this era of Doctor Who it may seem redundant for a play to be so focused on redeeming aspects of it. However, when the results are as strong as The Seeds of War, it is hard to find too much fault in this approach. The Seeds of War is one of Big Finish’s best Sixth Doctor plays and I hope that Matt Fitton (who scripted the play based on Briggs’ outline, and wrote The Wrong Doctors) returns to write for this particular TARDIS team again.