Strangely enough for an audio drama which packs countless nods to the past and exists entirely within the continuity of Doctor Who’s ‘classic’ era, Matt Fitton’s latest Seventh Doctor release captures the essence of modern-day Who more faithfully than any of its predecessors. Where the show in its 1980s guise would rarely place a significant focus on the consequences of the titular Madman with a Box’s journeys through time and space, barely an episode goes by these days without a past action coming back to haunt the character or a spur-of-the-moment decision forcing him to contemplate the limits of his moral compass and the extent of his ability to aid those in need of liberation. No longer will a regeneration be casually cast aside mere moments into the new Doctor’s first adventure, nor a companion’s departure left unacknowledged in the episodes which follow it. Afterlife gracefully echoes this grounded, sympathetic take on the Time Lord’s adventures and their effects on his assistants, and- despite a few tonal mishaps along the way- comes off all the better for it.

In stark contrast to recent Big Finish releases such as Dark Eyes 2, the premise of Fitton’s narrative is relatively straightforward: Thomas Hector Schofield (better known to Doctor Who fans as ‘Hex’) was killed by Fenric in 2012’s Gods and Monsters, a calamitous event which has (with good reason) turned Ace against the Doctor, leaving the latter to contemplate how to redeem himself after his being directly connected to the demise of one of his most loyal allies. Not since Earthshock and (albeit briefly) Time-Flight has a pre-21st Century Who yarn sought to have its eternal protagonist’s psyche and endless internalised guilt go quite so far under the microscope, and indeed, Fitton utilises the rarity of such a narrative opportunity as this to his significant advantage, providing a script which offers its lead stars their strongest material in years in terms of emotional and dramatic scope for future development. If there remain fans out in the big wide world who doubt Sylvester McCoy and Sophie Aldred’s talents, then this just might be the drama to convince them otherwise.

Inevitably, Ace is of the most paramount importance to the listener (and her ‘screen time’ reflects this suitably) as their entry point into proceedings, and to this degree, Aldred conveys beautifully the pathos of the character’s loss of a close friend, of someone who perhaps could have been something more than that had he not bitten the proverbial bullet before his time. Too often in the final episodes of the show’s 1980s run before its cancellation, this feisty and yet wholly sympathetic companion was cruelly robbed of a satisfying personal arc, with The Curse of Fenric coming the closest to matching Father’s Day and The Fires of Pompeii in its representation of its human protagonist’s utter disbelief at their extra-terrestrial hero’s detachment from emotion, yet still somehow falling short. In this respect, Afterlife excels without limits, casting Ace in an entirely new light and in doing so presenting Aldred with potential aplenty to continue this developmental and refreshingly formative arc for her character in months to come.

Where McCoy fares best is in his mirroring and evolution of the detached, uncharacteristically repulsive version of the Doctor glimpsed in Curse, the latter attribute central to the early stages of the narrative in which he and Ace are both literally and metaphorically separated not only by the gravity of Hex’s passing, but by the Time Lord’s inability to comprehend his friend’s grief in light of the frequency of meetings and partings such as these for a seasoned time traveller. An extended metaphor referenced by him and ex-TARDIS voyager Sally Morgan involves the concept of his companions being kites, the character himself being the one who controls them to varying avail, a notion which once again achieves its purpose of subverting our perspective on the titular wanderer’s morality magnificently.

Scribes before and after Fitton have and surely will continue to draw the line on this semi-psychological interrogation at this stage, yet to the immense benefit of Afterlife, Fitton steps once more unto the breach in his narrative’s final moments, teasing his audience with hints of the man who will become “a warrior” and seemingly commit double genocide in days to come as McCoy’s incarnation revels in his increasingly apt mythological title of “the Oncoming Storm” and the likelihood that, on occasion, his enemies could perceive him as “[their] worst nightmare”. Once the narrative’s final confrontation between its uncovered antagonist and its concerningly-omnipotent protagonist is done and dusted, it’s difficult to shake the sense that the Doctor has commenced a self-instigated psychological metamorphosis, whereby the character who represented nothing more than “a mild curiosity in a junkyard” to his first human onlookers has slowly but surely become a source of fear for the universe’s plethora of terrorising menaces, a thematic strand which of course only continues to build as we analyse and evaluate the implications of modern tales including The Pandorica Opens and A Good Man Goes To War today.

If you’ve noticed the omission of discussion of Afterlife’s alien adversary so far in this review, then feel free to treat yourself to a sizable bag of Jelly Babies and/or Jammie Dodgers at some point today: while her presence isn’t detrimental enough to derail the drama as a whole, Mandi Symonds’ Lily Finnegan (whose true identity this reviewer shan’t spoil, since the revelation itself is undoubtedly one of the narrative’s finest moments) is presented in a pantomime-esque manner at times, since the tiresome stereotypical representation of her Irish cultural roots (clearly intended by Fitton to act as a satirical element of comic relief) becomes more of a running gag than anything else in a rightly sombre storyline which could easily have done without it. It’s rare that Doctor Who’s inhabitance of the science-fiction genre proves to be disadvantageous for its scribes, but in this instance, Finnegan seems to be intended as little more than a means through which Fitton can assert his narrative’s (arguably unnecessary) conformation to the programme’s generic conventions.

Such is the mark of any great singular instalment of Who, however, that in spite of its minor shortcomings, the strength of its narrative, its performances and its construction prevail as the dominant elements for which we will remember and cherish it in the years following its debut. Afterlife is one such defining example of a chapter of this ilk, for quibbles regarding its slight structural blemishes and tonal missteps (the former manifesting as a result of the latter in Fitton’s somewhat awkward utilisation of Finnegan in the rushed cliff-hangers which tail-end Parts One and Two) become near-irrelevant in light of Fitton’s subversive, emotionally riveting script, Aldred and McCoy’s potent evolution of Ace and the Doctor’s personas respectively and a genuinely shocking final sequence which could set the Seventh Doctor audio range off on a completely unique trajectory with unprecedented consequences down the line (or to put it another way: “Change, my dear, and it seems not a moment too soon!”). This gripping audio drama is one of (if not the) best releases that Big Finish have produced in years, and consequently, it ranks up there with Doctor Who’s superior 21st Century works overall.

“Whoever they are, they’ve messed with the wrong planet. Ladies, gentlemen- let’s go save the world!”

It had to happen some time. After two underwhelming opening instalments in their 1963 trilogy, Big Finish have finally produced nothing short of an outright gem with the ‘series finale’, The Assassination Games. The Seventh Doctor’s journey back to where it all began commences a fundamentally human narrative which- aptly enough for the 50th Anniversary of an iconic British franchise- explores the ramifications of the history of our nation in a pseudo-present day context, establishing a grand action blockbuster tone from the outset.

That Remembrance of the Daleks’ famed Intrusion Countermeasures Group return to the fray will be a key element of the audio drama’s appeal for fans of the McCoy era, particularly those lucky enough to have experienced the Countermeasures spin-off series. The final 1963 storyline is a precursor to the aforementioned spin-off, meaning that Group Captain Gilmore and the rest of the team are still in the process of working out the kinks at this point. Nevertheless, the charming dynamic between Simon Williams (Gilmore), Pamela Salem (Rachel Jensen) and Karen Gledhill (Allison Williams) won’t struggle to captivate veteran or newcomer listeners, and John Dorney’s script does an impressive job of venturing beyond sub-standard prequel territory.

This reviewer’s appreciation of the talents of the classic Doctors and their companions has increased substantially thanks to Big Finish’s output this year, and Assassination Games only furthers that trend. Sylvester McCoy and Sophie Aldred are each as animated and engaging as ever as the Time Lord and Ace respectively, with the latter’s performance having developed hugely since the culmination of the pair’s time on-screen in 1989. If the Destiny of the Doctor release Shockwave wasn’t enough to convince listeners of Aldred’s accomplished portrayal, then this instalment and next month’s Afterlife should both disintegrate any lingering doubts without fail.

Ken Bentley returns to the director’s chair over a year on from his last collaboration with Dorney, The Wrath of the Iceni, and contrary to the historic tone of that ancient Roman outing, there’s rightly more of a resemblance to Remembrance and The Bells of Saint John in this case. The piece’s soundtrack and fast-paced structure maintain the storyline’s momentum, such that even in Assassination’s quieter moments, the sense resides that a thrilling setpiece of some kind is only ever just around the corner. The action-driven nature of the plot does leave it lacking in the emotional department, but at the same time, what with the sheer pace of proceedings, it’s difficult to take too much note of this absence.

What does prove of notable detriment, however, is the absence of a fully-fledged extraterrestrial antagonist. A threat simply named ‘the Light’ is established in the latter half of the piece, but anyone who makes the assumption as this reviewer did that the final 1963 drama would act as a prequel (albeit belated) to Big Finish’s 50th Anniversary Special, The Light at the End, will come away sorely dissatisfied. Instead, the villains are complete newcomers to the field, and although that’s a much-needed deviation from Big Finish’s plethora of returning adversaries this year, the simplistic and one-dimensional depiction of this Empire-fuelled race is extremely underwhelming.

Bentley does at least hint at future confrontations between the Doctor and his latest foe in this audio range and in doing so holds promise for a more innovative direction for the studio’s works beyond the year of the 50th. A tangible lack of original antagonists has pervaded the various storylines in the Big Finish Whoniverse for the last few months, and to this reviewer, it’s a gap that sorely needs filling in the studio’s 2014 output. The 1963 trilogy has experimented with unexplored adversaries, yet to no great effect- a foe who creates atmosphere more along the lines of last month’s Ghost in the Machine as a regular billing would be an enticing prospect at this stage, indeed.

The Assassination Games is a fulfilling conclusion to this celebratory trio of 50th Anniversary releases, though, of that there is no question. McCoy and Aldred frequently steal the show with their refined, exemplary portrayals of their once-maligned characters, now grand stalwarts of Who’s history just as much as any of their predecessors. The reintroduction of the Countermeasures gang into the fray is instantly refreshing for the range, and begs the contemplation as to whether further and more regular crossovers of Big Finish’s core and spin-off series would provide the studio with their much-needed revitalisation beyond this year. Perhaps the greatest irony of all with regards to the 1963 range is that had it focused more extensively on the year itself in a semi-nostalgic sense rather than striving in vain to create memorable original antagonists, the end results might have been that much more worthy of their overarching title.

How strange and fascinating it is that half a decade on from its inception, a single element of a new Doctor Who instalment can still change our perception of the show’s lore so significantly. Much like its inspired predecessor Starlight Robbery, the third and final release in the 2013 Seventh Doctor range builds upon an initially recognisable premise using innovative, intricate storytelling methods in order to bring across the scale and dramatic weight of its narrative in such a manner as a televised story could never convincingly achieve, packing some brilliant twists which shake up the status quo immensely.

That Daleks Among Us’ storyline bears such a seemingly uncanny resemblance to those of past on-screen Who episodes at first in fact contributes to the overall impact of this trilogy finale more than most fans would likely expect. Last month’s Sontaran-laden Seventh Doctor outing offered its listeners a teasing glimpse of events to come as Frontier In Space once did for Planet of the Daleks, which could have inevitably caused concerns for followers of the range that similar to Planet itself, this release’s plot would take its good time to gather momentum. Nothing could be further from the truth, though, with Alan Barnes’ creation appearing only to be spurred forward by the arc threads already set in place for it to build upon.

Whether it’s in Barnes’ cunning re-introduction of Skaro’s iconic inhabitants into the Doctor’s world or in his subtle yet crucial interweaving of a resolution to Elizabeth Klein’s parallel universe identity arc into proceedings, there’s precious little in this particular script that can be faulted on the whole. Admittedly, the latter plot element has always come off as a tad convoluted and cumbersome for the range, something which was doubly apparent in Persuasion and Starlight Robbery, and the complexity of comprehending its climax is one of the few moments of detrimental impact in the piece. Yet such detriment is negligible for the majority, its resounding effect on the quality of the release being minimal at worst.

The scribe’s consistent and finely-paced work here is backed up with exhilarating gusto by the notably accomplished cast assembled for the release. Naturally, Sylvester McCoy’s Doctor grows as a more empathetic and tangibly heroic character during every instance in which he receives new material, the continuing success of McCoy in this case coming as no surprise. Despite their characters holding primary roles within the narrative, Tracey Childs and Christian Edwards’ portrayals of Klein and Will respectively are debatably restrained by their limited dialogue and significant actions, the former character serving as little more than a Russell T. Davies-esque deus ex machina initiator come the tale’s climax.

Enter Terry Molloy, whose much-warranted return to the role of Davros does not dissatisfy even slightly. As if Resurrection of the Daleks and Revelation of the Daleks weren’t enough to demonstrate the British thespian’s sheer ownership of the role of the Daleks’ creator in his classic series guise, the content Molloy performs here clearly reaffirms the fear and simultaneous pathos this tragic antagonist can evoke in his audience. Russell recently demonstrated the uncompromising, borderline self-destructive nature of Davros’ psyche in the aftermath of the Time War (The Stolen Earth/Journey’s End); however, more engaging by far is the opportunity Molloy enables for listeners to discover new truths surrounding a man whose existence is one of isolation and whose race no longer deems his existence a necessity.

Anyone approaching this latest encounter with Davros will no doubt recall that the exposure between McCoy’s Doctor and Molloy’s layered antagonist in Remembrance was slight to say the very least. Suitably, the two characters share further sequences in the same room this time around, and their tense dynamic maintains itself as one of the most compelling elements of the piece in its entirety. A sense pervades that (in the words of Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight screenplay) these two warring geniuses “have a destiny together”, their fates eternally linked by one’s desire to fight evil and the other’s to survive and conquer. Perhaps the Great Healer of old was destroyed in the Crucible in Russell’s Series Four finale, yet judging by his confirmed resilience in classic televised and audio instalments alike, his survival to fight the Time Lord another day is the more probable assertion.

It’s only a shame that the note on which this particular audio drama crescendos is not as effective as the conclusions of its predecessors. In those instances, Jonathan Barnes and Matt Fitton held the benefit of their ability to implement a thrilling cliff-hanger in preparation for the next instalment, a trait which (the other) Barnes neither needs to nor can logistically fulfil at the trilogy’s end. The shortcoming comes more as a result of Big Finish’s production approach than anything, but it’s simply notable enough that the Doctor, Klein and Will readying themselves for a further impending dangerous excursion through time and space isn’t a particularly daring send-off in comparison to recent televised season finales or indeed other ‘seasons’ in the various audio ranges.

Judged either on its own merits or as a cog within the metaphorical machine of the trilogy, Daleks Among Us is an imperfect but immensely gratifying experience for the listener. McCoy and Molloy both shine marvellously in their performances in spite of the remainder of the main and supporting cast failing to match them, and in spite of the primary titular antagonists not having any particularly bold impact on the core narrative. This isn’t the splendid gem that Starlight Robbery emerged to be last month, that’s for sure. In many ways, though, it’s a hidden gem, its defining strengths counterbalancing its shortcomings by a notable margin. There’s an old saying which asserts that we never truly stop learning, and in this case, even in Doctor Who’s 50th Anniversary year, it appears (incredibly) that writers like Barnes still have plenty of exhilarating lessons to teach yet.

A more apt title for the second instalment in Big Finish’s latest trilogy of Seventh Doctor adventures would perhaps be Starlight Treasury. For within this follow-up to Persuasion, the listener is offered a metaphorical vault of contributory delights which combine to form one of the production team’s strongest efforts yet. It’s rare that a reviewer can so fully complement an audio drama as to assert its shortcomings as purely negligible, yet in this particular case that’s precisely the situation which has presented itself.

What remains a surprise throughout the duration of the story is the effectiveness with which its scribe Matt Fitton develops upon what is a fairly traditional premise. The action picks up moments after the conclusion of Persuasion, with Sylvester McCoy’s Seventh Doctor, Tracey Child’s Klein and Christian Edwards’ Will all intent on discovering the whereabouts of the lost Persuasion device and its creator Kurt Schulk. Their search leads them to an intergalactic auction featuring a plethora of galaxy-threatening weaponry, forcing the TARDIS crew to engineer a devious heist in order to gain access to the ultimate prize.

Unless listeners manage to somehow experience Starlight Robbery without glancing at its cover art, they’ll already have noticed that the Sontarans are due a comeback in this piece. Sure enough, faster than you can yell ‘Atmos’, the classic adversaries make their entrance heard in the midst of the auction and pose an additionally dangerous dilemma for the Time Lord at its heart. Dan Starkey is rightly offered full vocal control over the various soldiers of this particular Legion and he manages to intelligently differentiate between the dialects and colloquialisms of each of the different soldier roles he inhabits. Naturally, there are instances where Starkey’s recent regular work as Strax on the show has an influence on his portrayal, yet this only serves to enhance his contribution to proceedings rather than acting in any detrimental manner.

Before the Rutans’ most notorious foes even take to the stage, though, this release’s finest asset is introduced in subtle but sublime fashion. Jo Woodcock takes on the role of the flirty and rather vivacious entrepreneur Ziv with a zestful and enriching energy that allows her to dominate each and every sequence she appears in, regardless of the extent to which she appears or indeed the level of challenge the dialogue places before her. Refreshing as it is to see McCoy in particular on such strong and consistent form as his incarnation of the Doctor, always the prospect of discovering fresh and invigorating new blood on-screen or in these audio releases is just as thrilling, doubly so in the case of the supremely talented Woodcock here.

Similarly unexpected and yet beneficial is Fitton’s capability to relax the arc stands of the 2013 Seventh Doctor trilogy so as to allow himself to convey a standalone, layered tale without the restraints of specific narrative elements holding back his own creative vision. Whereas Persuasion occasionally seemed confined by the expectations of the events it had to fulfil and pre-empt, Starlight Robbery serves as a great interlude before a presumably climactic confrontation of wits in the upcoming finale. Despite the return of Black And White’s elusive conman Garundel (played marvellously by Stuart Milligan once again) and the continuation of the search for Schultz’s masterpiece, there’s plenty of standalone content here that won’t likely leave newcomers to the range too confused as to exactly ‘what’s occurring’, in the elegant words of Gavin & Stacey’s Nessa.

Undoubtedly, the metaphorical glue which holds it all together is the intelligent structure that Fitton engineers as the backbone of his drama. At no stage in the four ‘episodes’ of the piece does any notable lapse in momentum occur, even in the more intricate and reserved exchanges between main and supporting characters aboard spaceships, storage crates and the various other modes of transportation which they hop aboard. Plot twists are dispensed equally in such a manner that listeners will frequently find themselves lulled into a false sense of security or foreknowledge, only to eventually discover that their understanding of events to come is minimal and inaccurate at the best of times.

If a minor inferior element of this second instalment must be uncovered, then it is arguable that a singular flaw lies in its climax. Fans of the Doctor Who stories broadcast in the show’s first decade may find themselves experiencing déjà vu as Starlight Robbery draws to a close, with a familiar spaceship cruiser’s interior sound effect employed in the final scene as a teaser of what’s to come next time. For this reviewer, the conclusion of Frontier In Space came to mind, although on the whole the effect of this supposed shortcoming is minimal, with the scene in question handled in such a manner that its dramatic impact is intense enough to justify its relative familiarity.

When Daleks Among Us does arrive in stores later this month, then, it faces a battle on dual fronts. On the one hand, writer Alan Barnes must engineer resolutions to narrative arcs such as the Klein mystery, the manipulation of the Persuasion machine and the foreboding trap which the titular antagonists and their creator have set for the Doctor. On the other hand, in following on from Starlight Robbery, Barnes acquires the unenviable task of matching or bettering what is to this reviewer’s mind one of the greatest single releases that Big Finish have produced since their inception. Starlight Robbery represents everything that makes the programme a success fifty years on- the intricate narratives, the accomplished performers, the supreme dramatic impact of it all- and without a doubt Fitton’s finest hour writing for the range. If you’ll pardon the pun, it’s stellar in every sense of the word, and for this reviewer Doctor Who’s 50th Anniversary Special has truly come early.

If Big Finish’s UNIT Dominion presented its listeners with a renewed definition of the scale and potential of the Seventh Doctor audio range, then Persuasion can be perceived as serving an altogether different purpose. The first instalment in a trilogy of intergalactic adventures featuring Sylvester McCoy’s Time Lord, Tracey Child’s Klein and Christian Edwards’ new UNIT recruit Will Arrowsmith, writer Jonathan Barnes’ latest contribution to the Doctor Who universe does not find itself in want of narrative ambition. That said, a number of elements in this initial chapter restrain it notably enough to affect its overall quality.

The premise Barnes sets upon his listeners in the drama’s opening stages is simple, yet provides an effective and somewhat audacious opening to proceedings akin to that of a pre-titles sequence in a modern episode of Who. Now fully integrated into her role as UNIT’s scientific advisor, Klein is faced with training a relative newcomer to the organisation in Will. Before either of them can so much as utter the word “Kandyman”, however, the TARDIS appears on their proverbial doorstep, as the Doctor whisks the pair of them to Nazi Germany in the aftermath of the Second World War to hunt down a dangerous secret.

Of course, for more than one particular member of the TARDIS crew, the prospect of a trip to the Reichland is arguably threatening enough without a devastating piece of alien technology on the loose. Barnes rightly doesn’t ignore the significance this time period holds for the Doctor’s first German companion, instead seeding in a variety of whispers and hints from Nazi officials and others as to the nature of the information that the seventh incarnation of the Time Lord is holding from his ally at this stage. UNIT Dominion began to tease out inklings of Klein’s forgotten past, and thus to hear these murmurings developed on an explicit level here is enthralling for keen followers of the range.

What’s perhaps less effective in this case, then, is that Barnes appears to have been constrained by the overarching narrative structure set in place for this new trilogy of adventures. Certainly, fans who wanted to bear aural witness to new developments in the saga of Klein’s trip between parallel universes and our own won’t be outright disappointed by this release, but there remains an ever-present sense that certain revelations and events have been collated and stored for future instalments rather than placed here to serve a narrative which alludes to them. It’s one of the only arguable caveats of a trilogy such as this, in that there must always inevitably be loose ends which the opening instalment leaves for its successors to deal with, yet here that truth proves detrimental to Barnes’ narrative vision.

Thankfully, another element of Big Finish’s audio dramas which often has a great effect has not been restrained in this sense. Despite inhabiting a narrative that often falls plague to restricted progression due to its arc functions, the central cast of this release maintain a consistent benchmark of accomplished performances throughout. Sylvester McCoy is on just as fine form as he was in last October’s Dominion, an increasingly deceptive and omniscient presence within the lives of his companions, while Tracey Child maintains that impressive cold and hardened exterior of her oft-vulnerable UNIT advisor. Christian Edwards, a relative newcomer to the scene, must also be awarded great credit too for his stellar initial portrayal of Will, an instantly recognisable and empathetic construct who the audience can grow and bond with over the course of his coming travels aboard that oh-so-familiar time machine.

Elsewhere, the supporting cast of the piece are all served strongly with contemplative and emotive dialogue that rarely fails to hit the mark. Jonathan Forbes seems to revel in the layered depth of portraying a degraded Nazi officer such as Hinterberger in a post-war state, David Sibley’s Kurt Schalk comes across as a constantly elusive and wily rogue whose wider implications in the trilogy have yet to be seen, and Gemma Whelan’s hilarious intercom sequences as the artificial intelligence representing the Khlect foundation truly have to be heard to be believed. It’s testament to the diversity and uniqueness of the range that even now, a performance such as the latter actress’ can still inspire such profound, unforeseen hilarity and compelling listening fifteen years on from Big Finish’s inception.

Once again, though, by analysing and highlighting each of the elements which aid in providing the listener with a ceaselessly compelling and invigorating experience, inevitably the shortcomings which restrain the piece’s potential only become more prominent. Indeed, as with several other releases in the Doctor Who audio range, the notion occurred to this reviewer as to whether perhaps Barnes’ storyline would have been better served in a standalone context rather than that of a trilogy. It’s naturally clear that plot devices including the titular Persuasion machine, Schalk and the mystery of Klein will have roles to play in Starlight Robbery and Daleks Among Us over the next two months, yet this arc has seemingly forced Barnes to limit his line of investigation into the moral state of the Nazis after their defeat and indeed the Doctor’s own growing realisations that his next death and subsequent regeneration seem closer than ever before.

Without a shadow of a doubt, the latter contemplation from McCoy’s incarnation remains one of the most effectively underplayed moments of the entire production. The Doctor suggests to Klein in one way or another that his darker, enigmatic schemes which come into play here are simply his own way of dealing with his seemingly impending demise, his current incarnation making the worst of decisions in order to relinquish the universe of its darkest threats, allowing his next persona a degree of relief. This is a truly intriguing perspective for Barnes to take on a version of the Time Lord who has often been criticised for his eschewed sense of violence and justice, especially if the implications that this version’s transformation into the Eighth Doctor is near. When it comes to penning future instalments of televised Who, showrunner Steven Moffat could do far worse than to use Barnes’ contemplations of the Doctor’s darkest actions as an influence, even if it’s too late for such contemplations to have a direct influence on the portrayal of John Hurt’s new Doctor in the 50th Anniversary Special.

In fact, a recent statement by Moffat regarding the impending celebratory event can help to epitomise the effect of this latest Seventh Doctor release: “One of the things that I’m concerned about this year is that the show must be seen to be going forward. It’s all about the next fifty years, not the last fifty years.” Similarly, here Barnes appears to have adopted a mantra of moving the tales of this incarnation forward in an innovative manner rather than simply revelling in the nostalgia which ultimately killed Who in 1989. For the most part, it’s a supremely effective approach, and one that this reviewer hopes will not be forgotten as we move into escapades involving old foes like the Sontarans and the Daleks next time around.

Persuasion is a challenging audio drama to rate, simply because for every glowing strength it presents in the course of its two-hour running time, there’s a narrative or structural shortcoming which acts as a counterbalance to restrain it from greatness. However, what’s clear is that if the team behind UNIT Dominion were intent on redefining the Seventh Doctor audio range, then the team working on this production were equally intent on kick-starting a rapid chain of exhilarating events which no self-respecting listener is going to want to miss. In spite of its blemishes, Persuasion’s argument is aptly far too compelling for fans of McCoy and Big Finish to ignore, continuing a bold new lease of life for this particular range.

I love Remembrance of the Daleks. It is a story that runs through my own personal fandom like the name of a town through a stick of seaside rock. It's one of the first stories I have very clear memories of watching on television, at the age of four. A couple of years later, the Target novelisation was, as far as I can recall, the first "proper" book I ever read.

It may well be the Doctor Who story that I have seen more and know better than any other, but that didn't stop me taking the opportunity to see it again when good fortune gave me the chance to attend yesterday's screening at the British Film Institute, the latest in its Doctor Who 50th-anniversary season. And I'm certainly very glad that I did go along.

It's an excellent choice of story to represent the era of the Seventh Doctor, for many reasons. There are the high production values and excellent script, of course, along with the very strong cast. But it's also a story that combines a celebration and exploration of the history and mythology of Doctor Who with an open and accessible plot - you gain something if you have a good knowledge of the series, but you aren't excluded if you don't. And if you're anything like me, then the sense of it being a part of something larger, a teaser of so much more mythology to explore, only makes it all the more appealing.

It had actually been a very long time since I'd last been to any kind of Doctor Who-related event. I was quite heavily involved in the local fan group in the Brighton area when I was a teenager, and attended two one-day mini conventions run by the group. Since I moved away to university just over a decade ago, however, my fandom has tended to be pretty much online-only, becoming involved in debates and discussions on forums, but not actually going along to any kind of events or gatherings.

It was an interesting experience to see fans together en masse for the first time in such a long time. As Ben Aaronovitch noted from the stage in the panel session that followed the screening, "You've changed a lot in the past twenty-five years!" If you were a fan back in the 1990s, as I was, you could certainly see what he meant - many more female and younger fans than would have been the case in decades past, although I suspect that this would probably be no surprise to anybody who, unlike me, has attended an event since the series returned in 2005.

My only experience of any vaguely similar kind of screening to this was when the local arthouse cinema in the city where I live screened the film version of Quatermass and the Pit last year. That had been a slightly disappointing experience, because rather oddly the majority of the audience were clearly not on the side of the film - there had been much mocking laughter at some of the more archaic elements of the production and screenplay.

Pleasingly, there were no such problems here. The large audience - which included ever-present BFI Who attendee comedian Frank Skinner, ex-Adric actor Matthew Waterhouse, and Remembrance OB lighting man Ian Dow - were entirely behind the story, eager and excited to see it, whether for the first or the hundredth occasion. There was even an oddly charming moment when the Special Weapons Dalek earned a little ripple of applause after its first appearance blowing two Renegade Daleks into dust in episode four. Perhaps it was because the Abomination had made the effort to come along in person (in replica form, at least!), and was sitting in the BFI foyer, happily posing for photos . . .

I'd never actually seen an episode of Doctor Who shown on a big screen before, and wasn't sure how well 4:3-framed 625-line video material would hold up under such scrutiny. In fact, it looked very good indeed, perfectly sharp and at such size I found myself noticing little details I hadn't spotted before, such as the graffiti figure on the school gate next to The Girl, as she watches the Doctor and Ace in episode one.

It was curious how, even having seen the story so many times, I found myself getting quite excited as the lights went down and that gloriously menacing and enigmatic pre-titles sequence came up on the big screen, followed - of course - by the famous theme tune, which can still take me back to being a small child in an instant. I know others have their views on the McCoy era theme tune arrangement... and I don't care, frankly. For a generation of children my age, this was our Doctor Who, and the sound of it evokes an excitement and an air of mystery even all these years later.

There was one technical element of the screening that I did find slightly curious, in that it wasn't the broadcast version of the story that was used. This was only really detectable in the first scene in the cafe, where Mike sees Ace for the first time. Usually, this is accompanied on the soundtrack by a clearly very carefully-selected part of the song Do You Want to Know a Secret?, which fits in with the enigma of who Ace is as Mike watches her. Even on the original DVD release, when the rights to The Beatles' version were unavailable, the Billy J Kramer version of the same song was used. Here it was a completely different song, which is a shame - it may seem such a small thing, but that little scene loses something with its absence.

As well as not having been to any kind of Doctor Who event for such a long time, this was also my first visit to the BFI - and I doubt it will be my last. To sound boringly pedestrian, I was pleased (and relieved!) at how well-signposted and easy-to-find the place was, and the whole organisation of the event seemed to be very smooth. The tone of the day was right as well - there was a respect for the series, but not a po-faced reverence of some serious film seminar. It was supposed to be a fun and entertaining event - a celebration, of course - and it certainly managed that.

Epitomising the sense of fun was the introduction of a mystery guest for a short pre-screening interview via a showing of the K-9 and Company titles, which received much laughter and, touchingly, applause for the late Elisabeth Sladen. John Leeson had been unable to attend the Fourth Doctor screening earlier in the year, but he was here as an extra guest on the basis that he provided the voice of the Battle Computer in this story, and it was certainly nice to see him.

There were also interesting little chats with effects designer Mike Tucker and special sound wizard Dick Mills between episodes, but the main focus of discussion was the panel afterwards, with Aaronovitch, Sophie Aldred, and Sylvester McCoy, which was well-handled by the BFI season's co-curator Justin Johnson. All three Who alumni gave the impression of being very proud of their work on the series, but there was also the slightly bittersweet feeling that they had been cut down in their prime - they could have done so much more had they been given the time and the opportunity. Time at least has justified the faith they had in the power of the show, and Remembrance does feel like a pointer to what would come in the future. With its fast pace, strong characterisation, and high-quality effects, it does feel almost like a new-series story before there was ever a new series.

Perhaps my personal highlight of the day, however, came after the main event itself was over. Aaronovitch was in the foyer signing books, and I was able to get him to sign for me the very Target book I read as a six-year-old, some 23 years ago. It's battered and creased and dog-eared, but it's one of the few books I've kept with me wherever I've lived all these years later, and it can't be very often you get to meet and thank the person who wrote such an important book in your life.

After I'd had the book signed and was walking away from the queue, I was stopped by an elderly Indian couple, who were curious as to who everyone was queueing up to see, and what event had just been taking place. I explained that it had been an anniversary screening for a long-running series called Doctor Who, and that the man at the table signing books was one of the writers of the series.

"Ah, Doctor Who!" the gentleman of the couple replied eagerly, recognition flashing across his face. "Yes, that has been going for a very long time... I remember it when I visited this country in 1967..."

Doctor Who means so many different things to so many different people, whether it's a fleeting experience of it on a visit to a foreign country, or something you have loved all your life, which has become a part of who you are. I am not in the least surprised that the BFI screenings have proved to be so popular this year, as on the basis of the Remembrance screening they recognise and celebrate the fact that Doctor Who is, as Andrew Cartmel once noted, "for everyone." Fan cliques or eager children, all were represented, and I think all came away having very much enjoyed their afternoon.

If you get the chance to attend any of the remaining screenings, I urge you to take it. It's a fine way to join in with the anniversary celebrations, and especially enjoyable if they happen to be showing one of your very favourite stories.