"The entity with the might of a Cyberman army... an army that now shows you what your heart wants most as they attack. That is... unstoppable. Oh... oh no... They’re going to conquer everything"  The Doctor under a mysterious influence, and seemingly losing hope.

Having done a bit of globe-and-time-and-space trotting in the first instalment, this second and final comic 'episode' now focuses on a singular setting. Thus it can pay full dues so as to make the most of the premise and circumstances that were established. Tension rarely leaves from panel to panel and page-to-page, and some fine dialogue intermingles with well-done action visuals.

Using Romans in Doctor Who has often been very effective, were viewers or fans of any generation to recall watching the Dennis Spooner story in William Hartnell's era, or (brief) sections of Patrick Troughton finale The War Games. So the pedigree is there, in addition to modern Who efforts with Matt Smith and David Tennant, and goes back to almost the dawn of this (happily) never-ending story. Also, the sheer depth of Roman society will continue to offer any number of further settings and hierarchy-society thematic exploration.

By contrast, as much as I love the concept and aesthetics of the Cybermen I must admit their full potential is not always realised. This story does a neat job of making their conversion/ horror theme come to the boil, and yet offer a different actual opponent for the Doctor. The artwork from Warren Pleece also does a fine job of using the sheer height and presence of the Cyber-army, with some moody background imagery and colours to really make them stand out. 

 

Themes of steadfastness and cowardice come into operation here with the civil war being decided not by conventional battle but by the way the two opposing leaders respond to the threat of the Entity/Cyber-Army. In the end one is shown to pay the ultimate price and in ignominious fashion, and the other, whilst not understanding everything properly has such integrity at his core that he and his followers live to fight another day. There is also that subtle bit of extra depth where we are not forced to believe one was wholly good and the other bad, and the Doctor may have helped someone with a lot of blood on his hands and demons in his head. No mistake should be made that these were brutal times in human history. But the Doctor just does the best he can to achieve the ideal outcome, even if on the surface this Eleventh incarnation is bumbling or lackadaisical at times.

In addition to well-sketched supporting characters. there is enough care and attention from Rob Williams' writing to incorporate some interesting consequences of having a contemporary 21st century Londoner suddenly transposed into the days of the Roman Empire. This is seen when Alice is simplistically referred to as  a 'warrior princess' by one of the feuding Emperors, due to her skin-colour and her assertive manner. Alice has always been given a good deal of focus and development as I have stated in my prior reviews, but this issue is particularly strong for her and without her concerted input the outcome would almost certainly be a different one. We again also have some brief flashbacks to her past which still feel involving and not just treading the same old pathways. I for one now eagerly anticipate her use in the new Four Doctors event that is being released imminently.

 

Let there be no misunderstanding: the Doctor does have much to do come the end, but for certain moments he is haunted by the mysterious Time Lord that has intermittently popped up since the very first issue. And despite using his ingenuity, he still cannot prevent a game changer that leaves one member of the quartet cut off and seemingly unreachable. The remainder may have to take the long route to find their associate, as problems with the TARDIS continue to persist. Overall this latest multi-parter from the Eleventh Doctor line has presented a neat twist or two, and made proper use of the TARDIS crew. The denouement is perfectly paced and does not veer into the 'easy out' that some of the Matt Smith TV stories were arguably guilty of. 

 

Bonus Humour Strip:

A typically strong effort from Marc Ellerby with a good plot, fizzy dialogue and a good range of cartoonish facial expressions. That old chestnut of where to go on Summer Wholiday gets a welcome inspection in the humour coda, and again the two page format is totally justified. Out of the River/Doctor and Amy/Rory family set, only one individual gets a properly satisfying vindication of their chosen destination. 

Finding themselves yanked across the cosmos to a human colony world, the Doctor and his travelling companion are tasked with seemingly their most mundane mission yet: rescue an innocuous young girl’s missing cat. Suffice to say that as premises for a new yarn set in the limitless realms of Doctor Who go, this initial set-up seems neither as thrilling as that of recent TV serials like 42 nor indeed as continuity-shaking as that of The Day of the Doctor, yet it’s precisely the opening scenario which scribe James Goss lays before us with his latest contribution to the show’s mythology, The Gods of Winter.

The first instalment in a four-part series of BBC Audio releases featuring Peter Capaldi’s Twelfth Doctor as well as Jenna Coleman’s Clara Oswald – although only in name, since the studio have recruited the likes of David Schofield to narrate this interlinked quartet – Gods wastes no time in establishing the central plot arc which will bind together these otherwise standalone tales, introducing the aforementioned youth known as Diana Winter as she utilises an ominous "calling card" bestowed upon the Doctor to her ancestors for use on the worst day of each family member’s life. As was the case with Professor River Song back in 2008’s Silence in the Library / Forest of the Dead, however, the increasingly antagonistic Time Lord might well feel the desire to play Michael Buble’s "Haven’t Met You Yet" through the TARDIS’ speakers, since his initial meeting with the Winters clearly hasn’t occurred for him yet (and no doubt will be held back for the final instalment’s launch this December).

Regardless, even if answers regarding precisely why Diana’s family will have such a bearing on their newfound saviour’s life in days to come are a way off, Goss provides more than enough in the way of reasons for listeners to stick around in the meantime. Much as this reviewer jested about the subdued – to say the very least – nature of the quest placed on our time-travelling protagonists’ bigger-on-the-inside doorstep above, the situation involving the colony on which Diana resides and the apparently ruthless invaders plaguing its residents quickly escalates in unexpected ways, with the TARDIS crew forced to consider the origins of the Golhearn, a race whose motivations for serving as Gods’ supposed antagonists might not be all that they seem. Rest assured that we’ve no intent of spoiling any plot details beyond those offered in the audiobook’s précis, but we’ll at least tease that jumps in time, trips to other celestial bodies and commentaries on issues such as the dangers of blind faith and corporate legalities all factor into the piece’s overarching storyline in the seamless, inspired manner which only Goss can manage (as proven by his acclaimed past work on sub-plot laden Who romps including 2007’s The Infinite Quest).

Yet although the case of Diana’s lost feline companion does give way to a more layered, compelling adventure with political undertones aplenty, those hoping that Gods’ overall stakes would simultaneously be raised in the process might come away disappointed. Certainly, later set-pieces involving space shuttle flights across planet surfaces and seemingly abandoned religious temples up the ante in terms of action, placing both the Doctor and Clara – not to mention the first known member of the Winter dynasty – in occasionally grave danger, but if anything, this audiobook’s oft-relaxed tone at times seems far more reminiscent of that of a First Doctor serial (perhaps aptly given the representational similarities between Hartnell and Capaldi’s incarnations) than of one produced since Russell T Davies took the series’ helm just ten short years ago, a trait which could well deter any listener who approached the Twelfth Doctor’s latest audio voyage hoping for an adrenaline-fuelled experience along the lines of Into the Dalek or Death in Heaven. What Gods lacks in the way of substantial threats, however, the soon-to-be released tale compensates for with a hugely intelligent structure that initially lures the audience into wondering why Big Finish didn’t take the project on as one of their Short Trips scripts given the narrative’s supposed brevity, only for Goss to then throw a spanner in the works at the episode’s halfway point which ultimately more than justifies its (approximately) 60-minute running time.

Better yet, in the form of The Night of the Doctor star Claire Higgins (better known to series veterans as the mysterious figure who resurrected the Eighth Doctor shortly before kick-starting his successor’s plunge into the Time War), Goss has scored himself a simply ideal narrator, not least thanks to Higgins’ valiant attempts to distinguish the irritable Scottish tones of Capaldi’s Doctor, the remarkably more compassionate (if infrequently reckless) voice of Coleman’s Impossible Girl as well as the ever-maturing Diana. Whereas some of the previous contributors to BBC Audio’s various audiobook versions of the New Series Adventures novels have arguably tried and failed to capture the essence of either the programme’s current on-screen lead actors or indeed the one-off supporting players who’ve never featured on the TV show, there’s little point in denying that the first of the four thespians enlisted to bring the Winter escapades to life using their only vocal chords excels in both respects, effortlessly holding her audience’s attention as a result during both Gods’ (rare but appreciated) high-octane sequences and its calmer moments.

For a Who storyline which could quite easily have left its listeners baffled as to why BBC Audio didn’t simply transform it into a Sarah Jane Adventures novelisation, then, The Gods of Winter achieves a truly commendable number of feats, utilising its lack of action set-pieces as a means by which to tell a politically (and indeed philosophically) engaging yarn while bringing a hugely accomplished narrator into the fold so as to ensure that its audience never fails to remain captivated by proceedings. As with just about any tale intended largely to set up a broader plot arc, one could reasonably claim that the lack of genuine closure regarding the origins of Diana’s calling card robs Gods of a place amongst the higher echelons of off-screen Who, yet even if that’s indeed the case, this reviewer would gladly wager that the vast majority of those wise enough to pick Goss’ supremely accomplished latest work up will be too busy lapping up its myriad merits (not to mention attempting to predict how the story of Diana’s family tree might develop come October 1st in George Mann’s The House of Winter) to even begin to notice such incredibly minor shortcomings.
 

Perhaps moreso than is the case with any of the show’s other recurring antagonists, finding an inspired new way in which to off the titular menaces of “The Weeping Angels of Mons” must be one of the most unenviable tasks a Doctor Who scribe can encounter. That their creator Steven Moffat has already produced three largely acclaimed serials based around the Deadly Assassins’ antics can’t help matters either, particularly since 2007’s “Blink”, 2010’s “The Time of Angels / Flesh & Stone” and 2012’s “The Angels Take Manhattan” (not to mention Toby Whithouse’s “The God Complex” and Moffat’s “The Time of the Doctor”, wherein the Angels play second fiddle to a more substantial manner yet still make quite the impact in the space of but a few minutes of screen time) each use them to such great effect before resolving the threat they pose to the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors in an equally surprising manner.

No wonder, then, that in bringing the second full arc of Titan Comics’ New Adventures with the Tenth Doctor range to a timely conclusion after four instalments, Robbie Morrison can’t help but seem to struggle to wrap up proceedings without evoking the final moments of beloved episodes gone by. As if Tennant’s Doctor, Gabby Gonzalez and their newfound wartime comrade Jamie Colquhoun’s campaign beneath the trenches to rescue the TARDIS from the Angels’ clutches wasn’t enough of a call-back to their eternal foes’ on-screen history, as the final chapter of his “Mons” narrative grinds to a halt, Morrison moreover goes so far as to stir up memories aplenty of “Human Nature / The Family of Blood” (with the present day-set closing pages owing a particular debt to Paul Cornell’s haunting TV adaptation of his own New Adventures novel), “The Angels Take Manhattan” (via his second investigation into the Angels’ physical shortcomings in as many issues) and even Blackadder Goes Forth’s most poignant shot of all, though one could perhaps forgive the latter allusion in light of the plethora of Great War fiction available for us to experience nowadays. Indeed, add in an dishearteningly abrupt resolution to the romantic sub-plot brewing between Gabby and Jamie that simply reeks of necessity and readers might well start to wonder whether or not the “Mons” arc is as doomed as the waylaid soldiers who stumbled onto battlefields such as the Somme between 1914 and 1918.

As will surely have become clear by now, had this at times derivative mid-season finale (of sorts) persisted with this reliance upon its esteemed predecessors without injecting any original moments of note, then little doubt exists in this reviewer’s mind as to the extent that the “Mons” quartet as a whole would have been rendered as an unsatisfying tale, particularly in light of the number of instances where the words ‘déjà vu’ came to mind as the Angels made their initial appearances amongst the rubble and shadows of the trenches. The truth of the matter is mercifully different, though; thanks in no small part to Morrison’s sustained implementation of the creatures who give this arc its name as a metaphor for the conflict in which “Mons” takes place, the military chaplain who until now had served as little more than a cliché-spouting secondary player becomes of paramount significance at the very last moment, affording Part 4 no shortage of emotional resonance as he justifiably calls into question everything which the Christian faith has taught him in light of the angelic forces of (super)nature assaulting him and his companions from every corner. Better yet, whereas past televised Who serials such as “Tooth and Claw” have seen fit to simply have their antagonists slay these theistic devotees, here we’re presented with an entirely different send-off which leaves that much more of a lasting impression as a result (and one which we therefore shan’t spoil for fear of ruining the scene in question).

Whereas Morrison therefore tows the line between narrative familiarity and symbolic innovation, Arianna Florean, Elena Casagrande and Daniel Indro – the former two of whom open Part 4 with another of Gabby’s rather delightfully whimsical notebook sequences before the latter resumes his work as the series’ resident central artist – collectively give their all in terms of ensuring that from an aesthetic perspective, the Tenth Doctor’s escapades in the early 20th Century remain a joy to see play out from page to page. Even if Part 3’s “Blink”-riffing cliff-hanger didn’t so much shock as doubtless remind many readers of the aforementioned 2007 serial’s “the Angels have the police box” t-shirt, the shot made for one hell of a tour de force of Indro’s visual capabilities, a trait which carries through to this predictably action-packed fourth instalment, wherein the artist in question renders underground skirmishes, 19th Century villages and even stirring Great War memorial gatherings without missing so much as a single crucial opportunity to stimulate the reader’s optic nerves.

In fact, in spite of its occasional missteps into the realms of dependence upon what’s come before, that notion of aiming to keep its onlookers thoroughly engaged throughout its running time seems a fine summary of “The Weeping Angels of Mons”’ overall aspirations. Whether or not Morrison could have ditched some of the early moments of Angel mythology-recapping exposition and derivative set-pieces so as to condense Tennant’s sophomore Titan arc into three instalments as opposed to four is a matter which we could debate until the end of time itself (though this reviewer would personally wager that there’s a strong case to be made in that regard), but that Morrison and the team of apparently infinitely accomplished artists tasked with bringing his monthly narratives to life remained intent on leaving their audience with no option but to turn straight to the next page (or indeed head to the nearest relevant retailer in order to pre-order their copies of subsequent issues) in hindsight seems beyond dispute. It’s an admirable goal too, although as we move out of the blood-soaked battlefields of the early 1900s and back to the streets of New York for the final days of Gabby’s first year alongside a Time Lord who’s running on increasingly borrowed time, those involved with depicting this intriguing new companion’s scribbled writings and actions alike might well consider prioritising further layered moral dilemmas like that of the chaplain’s and in doing so placing less emphasis on the infrequently repetitive action set-pieces which formed the crux of “Mons”, at least if they’re hoping to leave Paul Cornell with a strong foundation upon which to build with his “Four Doctors” crossover event later this year.

Bonus Humour Strip Mini-Review:

Less surprising than Morrison’s success in turning his oft-predictable antagonists into a compelling metaphor for modern conflicts and the harrowing psychological toll they carry for those desperate to cling to their faiths is Rachael Smith’s decision to integrate the Sisters of Plentitude (of “New Earth” and “Gridlock” fame) into the latest gripping chapter of “A Rose By Any Other Name” as Rose – better known to regular readers as the Tenth Doctor’s hastily acquired feline pet – attempts to find her owner a date somewhere in the depths of time and space. Much like an elderly cat on its last legs, it’s difficult not to wonder whether this storyline (or series of narrative-light skits, to put the situation more accurately) has run its course at this point. On the plus side, though, even if that’s indeed the case, with only around half a dozen issues remaining until Cornell temporarily takes the helm of Tennant (as well as Smith, Capaldi and even Hurt)’s comic-book adventures, those who share this reviewer’s growing apathy with this particular line of mini-strips can at least rest safe in the knowledge that Rose’s short-lived tenure aboard the TARDIS will surely go the same way as K-9, Kamelion and Theta Sigma’s other non-human companions soon enough.

Last year Colin Brockhurst’s portfolio The Day of Doctor Who was widely acclaimed for its presentation of a fifth anniversary special that might have been. There William Hartnell and Peter Cushing had joined Patrick Troughton in a story which – as the imagined Radio Times cover, listings and even telesnaps suggested – pseudo-anticipated The Day of the Doctor while tying in with 1960s stories from An Unearthly Child to The War Games as well as reconciling (for those who think it necessary) the cinematic and television versions of Doctor Who. The project looked less like something created than it did a series of artefacts which had somehow fallen through a wormhole from another universe, where Doctor Who had proceeded in a different but parallel direction to the one we know.

Colin has now returned with a second set, Changing the Face of Doctor Who, which explores an alternative past where a different succession of actors assumed the role of the Doctor. Again, this is an exercise in counterfactual history which draws on recognisable events, settings and products but shifts them slightly sideways so the audience is engaged with an alternate past just that little more out of reach than the one we know. Geoffrey Bayldon stares out of the Radio Times launch cover Doctor Who never had in 1963. We’d not have had discussions over what kind of hat the second Doctor wore in early photographs had he been wearing Brian Blessed’s bowler. Ron Moody appears on the cover of a Radio Times from the first week of January 1970 being menaced by a Yeti, recalling the photocall which revealed Jon Pertwee’s third Doctor; but opening the brown envelope printed ‘Radio Times listings’ discloses that in Colin’s projected universe the third Doctor’s era began with Mervyn Haisman and Henry Lincoln’s Yeti tale The Laird of McCrimmon. How Ron Moody’s Doctor is exiled to twentieth-century Earth to take on Peter Cushing’s Master the following year in The Spray of Death must remain a subject for speculation. The Radio Times entries, inspired by unproduced tales which were abandoned in early stages of their development by the production office, are especially eerie because their phraseology and layout accurately recaptures the Radio Times of their pretended day. Colin is a master at sourcing and recreating typography from the days of hot metal composition and photogravure as he is at recapturing the house style of more recent periods, as shown by a glance at his material commemorating Rik Mayall’s eighth Doctor. Mayall’s screen life seems to have endured beyond one TV Movie, unlike his counterpart in our universe; I wonder if there is a range of Big Finish audios in Brockhurst-Earth’s mediasphere.

Frustratingly perhaps, this set only covers the first eight Doctors. There is no Radio Times cover featuring Hugh Grant and whichever recent graduate from Casualty or EastEnders was supposedly being considered to play Rose Tyler, no James Nesbitt and Robson Green staring out from opposite sides of a DVD box design, no Paterson Joseph and Aisling Loftus on the cover of Doctor Who Adventures… This decision might be regretted, but one (unhappy) consequence of the decision to end with the eighth Doctor (but not necessarily in 1996) is that most of the actors Colin has chosen as his alternative Doctors are dead, one very recently.  Both this and the set's otherwise very limited engagement with post-2005 Doctor Who (but it is recognised, subtly) means that the set doesn’t risk confusing ongoing careers with what could be misinterpreted as marketing materials.

The nature of this kind of work means that Colin has to manage faces which sometimes do not want to be changed and where the source material to effect the transformation has been difficult to obtain, but ultimately the signatures of his alternative Doctors always overwrite those of the ones we know. His collaborator on some items is Steve Andrew, well-known in many fan circles for his Target book pastiches, who provides the cover illustration for the novelisation of Doctor Who and the Robots and for the badge showing Ron Moody’s Doctor in the style of the 1971 Kellogg’s Sugar Smacks series. Again, one suddenly feels the weight of cereal eaten to acquire it, long ago but elsewhen.

The set is definitely of interest to those who like testing the elasticity of Doctor Who’s past as well as its present and future and who imagine how the story of the Doctor and his companions (there are some alternative casting ideas there too) could have been depicted had different choices been made. Excite the interest and comment of all your friends, as Target Books once had it of their badge, but with Richard O’Brien’s Doctor’s first Doctor Who Magazine cover on your wall. In the meantime, I’m off to watch Ken Campbell’s Doctor in Storm Over Avallion – I’m sure I left the disc somewhere…

Doctor Who has had many proud milestones throughout its history, not least its 50th anniversary celebrations two years ago. Last year, Big Finish Productions also celebrated 15 years of producing licensed Doctor Who dramas with its Worlds of Doctor Who release. This year, BF has decided to mark its 200th release in the Doctor Who “main range” with its “locum Doctors” trilogy. It’s a milestone that’s pretty dubious, to be honest, considering BF’s Doctor Who output in the last 15 years truly exceeds 200 releases and does not encompass the Fourth Doctor adventures (with Tom Baker) or the Eighth Doctor adventures (Paul McGann’s Doctor started in the “main range” before getting his own series). By my estimation, coupled with various spin-offs, BF is really celebrating something like its “500th” release, not its 200th! But hey, any excuse for a party ...

The “locum Doctors” concept has already seen the Seventh and Sixth Doctors involuntarily replace the Third and Second Doctors in the 198th and 199th releases The Defectors and Last of the Cybermen. In both tales, each Doctor found himself forced to resolve the situation by directly contradicting the position of his predecessor and by extension threatening to unravel his entire time stream. In The Secret History, the Fifth Doctor (Peter Davison) finds himself transplanted into the First Doctor’s era and reunited with companions Steven Taylor (Peter Purves) and Vicki (Maureen O’Brien) – just in time for the TARDIS to materialise in Italy in the sixth century AD as Byzantine general Belisarius (Giles Watling) begins his conquest of Italy.

Just as The Defectors and Last of the Cybermen were homages to the Pertwee and Troughton eras, so The Secret History also honours the Hartnell era through an historical tale that sees the TARDIS crew interact with characters based on personalities from that period, eg Belisarius, his secretary Procopius (played by Tony Millan, whom the Doctor recognises as the author of the tomes The Wars of Justinian and The Secret History) and the Byzantine Emperor Justinian and his wife Theodora (Tim Wallers and Sarah Woodward). Indeed, the story starts with the tried and trusted Hartnell era formula of the Doctor and his companions arriving in a period setting and then being separated and forced to participate in events against their will. In this instance, Steven is taken prisoner by the invading Roman forces and transported from Italy to the Roman capital Constantinople. The Fifth Doctor and Vicki have little choice but to follow and by the time they arrive in Constantinople, the Doctor is arrested by Justinian on suspicion of being a Persian spy. He subsequently spends much of the second episode in prison and is largely absent from events (not unlike the First Doctor who could also disappear from the odd TV episode whenever William Hartnell took a week’s holiday!). This leaves Vicki to delve deeper into the mystery while Steven is recruited at the Hippodrome – first as a stablehand, then as a painter and finally as a driver in the local chariot races between the (historically accurate) rival green and blue teams as the regular drivers are struck down by the first bout of the Justinian plague. Vicki is particularly a great foil for the brazen Belisarius (“What d’you mean ‘we’?” he blurts out when he realises Vicki has invited herself to accompany him to an audience with the Emperor), continuing a humorous trait of the Hartnell historical – the Doctor and his companions would often provide much needed light relief amongst some of the earnest and unrefined figures they encountered in period settings. Writer Eddie Robson cleverly echoes the same approach.

However, it is from the second episode on that the serial really strays from the traditional Hartnell pure historical tale. Indeed, The Secret History becomes a SF story with a period setting as extra-terrestrial entities not unlike the modern TV series’ Weeping Angels seize control of Justinian and Theodora (and by extension the Roman Empire) and an old adversary of the Doctor’s under the alias of Quintus, aided by his time-sensitive assistant Sophia (Lysette Anthony), finally plays his hand and manoeuvres the Doctor into a trap that imperils his very existence. The final episode could not be more unpredictable from the first three as history (at least as the Doctor knows it) assumes an entirely different course.

The main story aside, Robson is excellent at portraying the politics of the Byzantine era, along with the exuberant, flamboyant personalities that inhabit it. Wallers’ Justinian is pompous, sleazy and paranoid while Watling’s Belisarius is ostentatious, authoritative, dutiful and dry-humoured, making them perfect rivals for the future of the Roman Empire. Woodward’s Theodora is also haughty, with some cutting dialogue for her husband, whom she clearly enjoys antagonising. Millan’s Procopious is unsurprisingly scholarly, a little cowardly and in Belisarius’ words “a complex chap”, given his misogynistic views of the Empress (“Her soul is a cesspool!”) and of women in general (“No man should trust himself around beautiful women!”). Millan also deserves another mention for his gruff, rough diamond performance as Hippodrome proprietor Yazid who is such a complete contrast to the quietly spoken Procopious that it is easy to assume the parts were taken up by separate actors.

Maureen O’Brien and Peter Purves reprise the roles of Vicki and Steven almost effortlessly, as if 50 years haven’t elapsed at all since their time in the TV series. Both actors obviously put a lot of youthful inflection into their performances to convey their younger characters but they never sound too old or unconvincing. Peter Davison, of course, continues to be as excellent as ever as the more “fretful” (in Vicki’s words) Fifth Doctor, displaying the vulnerability that was typical of the character in his era on television and far less of the assuredness and arrogance of his first incarnation. Davison’s expression of fear when his Doctor is presented with a solution that could save a man’s life (and by extension change the course of history altogether) is particularly noteworthy:

Belisarius: Doctor, is he saying that you could save this man’s life?

The Doctor: I’m afraid so.

Belisarius: Afraid? What are you afraid of?

The Doctor: Everything. Don’t you see? It would change everything.

Of course, it is precisely the Fifth Doctor’s character traits that the villainous Quintus exploits to spring his trap. The villain’s true identity (I hesitate to even name the actor who plays the part for fear of giving the character away) will either be a pleasant surprise or an unsatisfactory revelation to the listener (in fact, my suspicions about who might be behind the Doctor’s translocations throughout his time stream proved correct before I even listened to The Secret History, and the cowled figure on the cover sleeve – even though there’s no implication in the story that the villain actually wears a cowl! – did little to allay that suspicion). To this reviewer, it’s not exactly a bold revelation and the villain concerned is wearing a bit thin but nevertheless the actor who plays him (a renowned British comedian that we all would have loved on TV as we grew up in the 1970s – well, at least in Britain and Australia), delivers an excellent performance, offering the right balance of humour, charm, mischief and fervour.

While this trilogy fits with Quintus’ modus operandi (he even gets to fulfil every Doctor Who fan’s wish in the final episode!), I find it deliciously ironic that, given this is the “official” 200th release in the Doctor Who “main range”, the antagonist is driven to usurp and destroy the Doctor out of revenge for events that actually occurred in serials that are not counted by BF as part of the “main range”. Again, this illustrates to me that for all the pomp and ceremony, The Secret History is no more remarkable than any other BF Doctor Who release. “Main range” or not, it’s all Doctor Who!

That said, The Secret History is an entertaining and at times fun tale, with the right blend of drama and humour befitting a Hartnell era historical, and as long-time BF listeners can expect, excellent sound production values and performances. You really do believe that you could be accompanying the Doctor, Steven and Vicki around sixth century Ravenna and Constantinople, and the incidental music and sound effects, including the TARDIS interior noises, also create the impression that you are experiencing a “lost” Hartnell era tale, albeit with Peter Davison as the Doctor!

However, when compared to the rest of the “locum Doctors” trilogy, The Secret History is the weakest link (with The Defectors the highlight of the bunch). This is partly because unlike The Defectors or Last of the Cybermen, The Secret History ceases to be a story in its own right about half-way through and becomes a closing, convoluted chapter to a broader saga. It’s also dependent on whether you feel you get the pay-off that the trilogy promises – it doesn’t necessarily convince nor does the villain impress either, despite the threat he poses to our hero’s survival.

 

 

 

Now back safe and sound in their own era - foggy and full of questionable justice it may be - Jago and Litefoot do not have much respite before another series of adventures comes knocking on their respective doors.

The pattern opted for by the team of Justin Richards, David Richardson and Lisa Bowerman  is one where each story is linked, but the degree of which varies. Of the four, the second story would need the least amount of rewriting to stand completely on its own. The opener sets up some short-term and long-term consequences for the set but mostly wraps up the immediate loose ends with elegance. Finally the third and fourth escapades are very closely linked to one another and best appreciated with some awareness not only of the character of the Colonel (Geoffrey Whitehead) but also some basic understanding of Torchwood. Yes, the organisation that was teased out by Russell T Davies, and got explicit mentions of being set up by Queen Victoria in Tooth And Claw, plays its subtle role in these stories. This major continuity decision helps makes what is by now a well established series of original audio have a slight re-calibration in its mission parameters.

Our regulars are as good as ever, and  none the worse for having been fish out of water in the very enjoyable Series Five. We have a fine collection of both one-off and recurring virtuous aiders and abetters, and dastardly immoral riffraff  - sometimes the listener being sneakily wrong footed as to which camp the pathologist and theatre owner should assign those people they associate with.

The Skeleton Quay is a thoroughly evocative and well-plotted story to remind us of the many pluses a seaside setting and a mystery have to play in the audio medium. With Jago and Litefoot separated relatively early on, they must to try and deduce just what is actually going on around them, and what may be the cause of all the unrest. The dramatic hooks sink in almost without one knowing it. Lisa Bowerman makes her team put a wholehearted effort and that reaps fine rewards: good sound effects and moody original music that is right on the money.

Return of The Repressed takes some of the consequences for Jago from the previous romp and goes in some very unexpected directions. Now, it is always a good thing when the producers decide to shake a formula up a bit and try out some new things. I just cannot quite decide whether this crosses the fine line between over-stuffed, and brimming with one striking idea after another. This is certainly a character piece, and the conventional beginning middle and end do sometimes feel rather muddled together. The turn of Adrian Lukis as renowned psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud is a much more successful portrayal of a foreigner with a heavy accent than some from previous plays. Despite being framed in a comic manner, the written character also has enough meat on the bones to not just be a stereotype. The main female role is very well done, and her exact status being revealed and its significance for our intrepid duo is a great twist. The bookends of a musical do evoke the  splendid fourth episode of The Talons Of Weng Chiang (which of course was just one of six triumphs).

And after two enjoyable stories, this series really kicks into gear for the second batch. Military Intelligence is very focused in delivering drama and suspense, and also feels like it has more to say about Victorian society and the British national identity. The Colonel's more fleeting role in the series opener is considerably expanded here (although he was perhaps carelessly forgotten about in the second story). Now we start to see that he is perhaps not all he seemed, and the way Jago  and Litefoot respond to this new situation is of major interest. The different tracks come and go on for the listener at a rollicking pace, and there is a great mechanical monster involved which needs little effort to visualise. Great reactions, spoken descriptions and sound effects all add up to a strong climax, and yet the main story has only got to the halfway point; seguing with the arrest of Litefoot for a most serious offence.

Hence, The Trial Of George Litefoot. No dawdling here. One exciting development follows hot on the heels of the current one. The victim of murder, which Litefoot is accused of being solely responsible for, will surprise many. But that is one of a number of well-thought-out twists. Courtroom scenes are played out nice and snappily, and the entitlement of George as he languishes in a jail cell wanting better provisions is achieved so as to make him flawed but very human and relatable. Whitehead's Colonel is contemptible but has that touch of class at the same time to make him the type of Victorian villain akin to the original Master. Other wicked collaborators also come off as well-conceived and make the stakes feel suitably high. In the end our duo manage to show the right ingenuity to foil an assassination plot, and yet they still pay a heavy price. The whole cosiness of being home is again eschewed, and in such a manner that our heroes may never quite have the affluence and security they worked so hard for again. Series Seven will be very interesting listening..  

 

Bonus Material:

Once again Big Finish pays some nice airtime to showing just how fun a working environment is enjoyed both by the old established guard, and anyone else joining in for the first time. Some newcomers to sci-fi itself share their excitement at being signed up. The interview material is very organic and barely feels like the artifice of various questions has been needed in the first place. Having Francesca Hunt involved as the mysterious Camilla Trevlyan was a good decision; it is pleasant to hear the sister of India Fisher enthuse on joining the considerable Big Finish Family. Another such connection comes in the form of Justin Richard's nephew Howard Carter, who gives some very sparky information on juggling sound design and music duties. I previously praised Lukis as Freud, and the chance to ascertain his approach to portraying a real life legend is very enjoyable to gain insight from. There is also a fascinating explanation from Lisa Bowerman on how she (and the others of the creative team) make the effort to try different styles and areas to focus on story-by-story. A final note to end on? For those rushing to jot down the many odd words that Henry Jago opts for in order to try and convey gravitas, there comes a little bit of insight into the process on choosing material that makes even expert crossword-players shudder at.