Picking up from the Master’s abduction of Leela at the end of Requiem for the Rocket Men, Matt Fitton’s Death Match is very much a sequel to that story. Once again it focuses very much on Leela, as she’s picked as the Master’s champion in the eponymous Death Match - a gladiatorial contest-slash-gameshow where champions duke it out to the death. There are bonuses, there’s fine catering, and it’s an expensive hobby for those with money to burn. It’s the Master’s own invention, and gives a nice insight into what he gets up to between his usual evil schemes.

 

Leela’s kidnap is news to the Doctor and K9, travelling alone together, unaware of the Master’s last-ditch skulduggery - and under the impression that she’s happily building a new life with her student/‘pair-bond’ Marshall (Damian Lynch). They intercept a distress call from Marshall, and all three quickly end up in the middle of the Death Match.

 

If Rocket Men was a sort of Ocean’s Eleven-styled caper movie, then Death Match owes a clear debt to The Hunger Games, with its sponsors, posh officials, and tactics of elimination. There’s a touch of Battle Royale here too, with exploding jewellery that goes off if anyone forfeits the games.

 

Leela carries a lot of the story and the action, most of which has her mid-fight and panting with exhaustion. Her relationship with Marshall is key, and he proves himself worthy of her love. Lynch again gives a strong, understated performance as Marshall, the noblest of the Rocket Men. They’re so well-matched that you know it’s going to end in tears, but the ending makes perhaps more sense of the fact that we know she’ll eventually end up with Andred, and not too far in the future considering the mid-season fifteen setting of this series. Louise Jameson is by turns brave and hard-as-nails, but the ending of the story shows her the bravest she’s ever been, as she stoically deals with her loss. 

 

The Doctor and K9 have a lot to do, and have a rollickingly sarky rapport, but rightly, take a back seat to the story of Leela and Marshall. Tom Baker is, as ever, Tom Baker - perhaps not quite on the belting form of Rocket Men, but he has some good moments, angrily facing off against the Master (who is gleeful about the brutality of the Death Match where the Doctor is scathing) and trading quips with the deadpan K9. His finest moment comes at the end, where he invites Leela to travel with him again - a quietly emotional moment between the two that shows how their relationship has been given new legs by Big Finish.

 

Meanwhile, the Master has something of a love-interest of his own, as the ambitious and ruthless Kastrella (an excellent Susan Brown) has designs on becoming his equal partner. Geoffrey Beevers plays another blinder here, his Master clearly respects just how nasty Kastrella is, and the lengths she’ll go to to get what she wants. That said, he’s clearly also not into her - this incarnation is charming, but isn’t flirty in the slightest, and he’s happy to sacrifice her when the moment comes. 

 

This is another strong effort from Big Finish, and this run of Fourth Doctor Adventures seems to go from strength to strength. Doing action like this on audio can’t be easy, and the only slightly weak part is the scenes with Kastrella’s champion, the Red Knight. He’s given a suitably grisly origin, and we’re told his armour is fused to his flesh - but he comes across as a little underwhelming, sounding like a cross between Brian Blessed at his most bellow-y and Rik Mayall in full Flashheart mode, but without the jokes.

 

Death Match is a worthy sequel to Requiem for the Rocket Men, it has plenty to offer, and is well-scripted and thought-through - considering that the ‘arena’ concept has been done to death in Sci-Fi. But at the heart of it, there’s Leela and Marshall -  one hell of a match. In a knowing nod to her future, the Doctor notes that she might have to lower her standards a little. That time will come soon, and somewhere on Gallifrey, a chancellery guard won’t know what’s hit him before too long -  but there’s a few more adventures to savour yet before that happens.

 

Paris, 1979.

For many Doctor Who fans there is only one thing that sentence can possibly mean. For that place and that time are (mostly) the setting for a story from Tom Baker’s penultimate season – and it happens to be a story which is often considered to be one of the all-time greats in the history of the show. Fast-forward (or fast return, it all depends on your point of view) to 2015 and an all-new novelisation of the serial has arrived on bookshelves under the authorship of James Goss. But to see exactly how this came about, we need to step back a little.

2012 saw the release of a novelisation of another Season 17 story, Shada. But there was one big difference: Shada was never finished and thus never transmitted. So that novel, written by Gareth Roberts, actually provides one of our only means of experiencing the story as a complete entity. It was considered a great success, and paved the way for a further book adaptation of another Douglas Adams script which, likewise, had never been novelised.

Enter City of Death.

While these books share a common heritage, then, this latest one has an issue all of its own to contend with. Unlike Shada, City of Death exists in its entirety as a TV serial produced three-and-a-half decades ago. Which raises the question: how far does the book stray from the established path that so many people know and love? Well, the finished novel achieves a brilliant balance.

Perhaps the most important thing to be aware of is that although a considerable amount of the dialogue is recognisable from the story as we know it, Goss has used the original rehearsal scripts as the basis for his novel. This means that while the story is fundamentally unchanged, much of the dialogue and action is either new (deleted from the finished TV show) or different to some extent from how it turned out on screen. The result is quite fascinating. In addition, of course, Goss has embellished and added even further to the story, and this is in evidence almost immediately. To cite an early example, the Doctor and Romana’s first visit to the Louvre is entirely familiar and yet radically different.

The book’s first chapter contains some of its most notable deviations from the televised original (and in this sense you could argue that the first chapter is the book’s most atypical), but this turns out to be a masterstroke. Before we see the Doctor and Romana in Paris (and no, this is no longer their first appearance in the novel) the book does what only a book can: it elaborates substantially on the backstory of almost any character you could care to mention, not just through dialogue but also by transporting the reader into the minds of the characters themselves. For readers familiar with the original material, this makes for a hugely eye-opening introduction to this new interpretation of the story. It has to be said that for those who aren’t as overly acquainted with City of Death, the first chapter could perhaps be a little less effective – not quite so much of a ‘hook’ into the novel, but taking on much more meaning by the time of its conclusion.

As the book progresses and catches up with the narrative of the original TV episodes, that’s where the benefits of the written medium become very clear. Goss’ writing is rich, witty and compelling, not only a superb homage to the late Douglas Adams (indeed, a number of phrases in the book originate from stage directions in the scripts themselves, but except for the examples given in the notes at the back of the book you probably wouldn’t be able to tell the Adams from the Goss – the language is incredibly consistent and harmonious throughout) but also a match made in heaven with the story itself. If there’s any TV serial which particularly suits being made into a novel, it must be this one; one of the most evocative Doctor Who stories becomes one of the most evocative Doctor Who books. It isn’t entirely hyperbolic to say that for a short while, when the pages of this book are open, it’s not too difficult to imagine that you might be in Paris (especially if you have the fortune to actually be in Paris).

Also available is an unabridged audiobook release of City of Death. Read by Lalla Ward (Romana) and running to around nine hours and forty-five minutes, the audiobook is an enjoyable way to experience the story and has a character all of its own. Ward’s reading is sharp, clear and well-performed, and the release also takes the opportunity to spruce up the soundscape via the careful use of sound effects. This definitely improves the overall listening experience while remaining restrained and respectful to the underlying material. But because the audiobook obviously runs at a pre-determined pace, there are a few moments which seem to pass by slightly too quickly – not major plot elements, but some of the subtleties of the writing which don’t have the chance to sink in as well, compared to reading the book at your own pace. Ultimately this comes down to personal preference, but having experienced both the hardback and the audiobook, the former did seem more satisfying overall, even though the audio release is still great fun in its own right.

For more than three decades, City of Death has been (no pun intended) a closed book. Four episodes of a television show which has been on our screens – on and off – for over fifty years. But serendipitously, the fact that the story is among those never to have been originally novelised has opened the door for this tremendous new book; at once a fresh reworking and a faithful retelling of a classic adventure. If there’s one reason to buy it, it’s that once you’ve read the book the story will never be the same again. Frankly, after finishing the book it feels like the TV episodes have lots of bits missing. Bits which, just for a moment, you would be forgiven for thinking you’d actually seen performed by the actors in 1979. Events in the original (some of which don’t really make a great deal of sense, with hindsight) are justified and explored, often without even being changed to any significant extent. City of Death is now an even richer and more satisfying story than ever before, and it’s a sheer delight that Season 16’s The Pirate Planet is set to receive the book treatment (once again from Goss) next year. Who says you can’t improve on perfection?
 

“I kept trying to think what my Doctor would have done ...”

“I am your Doctor, Jo – just with the benefits of a few more centuries’ wisdom ...”

Jo Grant and the Seventh Doctor, The Defectors

 

The Defectors is the first instalment in a trilogy that culminates in (and marks) the impending 200th release of Big Finish’s Doctor Who “main range”* later this month.  It has been described (with tongue firmly in cheek by Big Finish) as the “locum Doctors” trilogy, as each story transplants some of the Doctor’s later regenerations into the respective eras of his first three incarnations.

In The Defectors, the Seventh Doctor (Sylvester McCoy) finds himself deposited at UNIT headquarters during the Third Doctor’s era, much to the surprise of companion Jo Grant (Katy Manning). Indeed, the Time Lord can barely reflect on how he suddenly came to be at this point in his past before he and Jo are whisked off to a remote island in the North Sea by regulars in the British Army who have, in the “interests of national security”, had all UNIT personnel despatched to London, including Captain Mike Yates (Richard Franklin) who is standing in for Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart whilst he is in Geneva.

In the ensuing events, the Seventh Doctor and Jo uncover a near three decades-old conspiracy and the Doctor is presented with an agonising moral dilemma that may (or may not) explain why he has been relocated to this point in his timeline. Is he supposed to rectify something he did long ago or sanction a course of action which his third incarnation would have vociferously opposed?

Writer/director Nicholas Briggs delivers a very good script which seeks to capture the spirit of the Pertwee era whilst offering a twist on the usual “alien invasion/base under siege” style of storytelling. Briggs’ brief is challenging, as he has to deliver what is nominally a UNIT tale without that era’s key players – Nicholas Courtney (Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart) has sadly departed and John Levene (Sergeant Benton) declined to appear, effectively robbing Briggs of two-thirds of the UNIT staff before he had even put pen to paper. As a result, UNIT is relegated to the sidelines, and the Doctor and Jo must rely on their wits to uncover the truth on Delphin Isle. The Defectors therefore has the undercurrents of classic Pertwee and McCoy TV serials The Sea Devils and The Curse of Fenric respectively. Both serials are set in seaside locations and the respective Doctor/companion combinations have the assistance (or hindrance) of the armed forces, but the perceived threat in The Defectors is not nearly as cut and dried.

Indeed, there is good reason to sympathise with the motives of the antagonistic Europans (Rachel Bavidge and Jez Fielder) and to be suspicious of Delphin Isle’s populace, represented by the slippery Commander Wingford and Captain Cornelius (portrayed by BF regulars Barnaby Edwards and Neil Roberts) – in spite of the alien influence pervading their community. Indeed, Briggs channels Pertwee era scribe Malcolm Hulke by showing that the token monsters aren’t as monstrous as they appear and that their victims – the so-called “defectors” of the tale – aren’t so innocent either. Unfortunately, Briggs cannot emulate Hulke’s flair for irony and tragedy. If Hulke had written this script, I think he would have put an entirely different complexion on the climax. Briggs, in contrast, rather neatly winds up the story in exactly the manner that you would expect of a Pertwee era serial. So, yes, while Briggs remains true to the essence of his brief, The Defectors lacks the pathos that Hulke (or perhaps his peers like Barry Letts or Terrance Dicks) would have instilled in the closing proceedings and gives the tale an almost upbeat ending that it probably doesn’t deserve.

As you would expect of a BF Doctor Who audio, The Defectors benefits from excellent sound production and top-rate performances. Sylvester McCoy continues to be excellent as the Seventh Doctor, injecting the right amounts of humour, assurance and steel into his character as the script demands. What isn’t in play here (which is great for the script and the character) is the Seventh Doctor’s proclivity for playing cosmic chess with his adversaries and his friends. Indeed, the mystery of how and why he has been brought to this earlier point in his personal history is not even properly considered until the serial’s fourth episode; this particular version of the Doctor is uncharacteristically as much in the dark as Jo Grant and the listeners are. Indeed, he remains relatively unflustered by this turn of events, concentrating instead on the mystery of Delphin Isle; it is only as the stakes soar that the Seventh Doctor questions his place and also the intended course of his actions.

Katy Manning is fantastic as Jo Grant, having only had the opportunity to portray the character previously in BF’s The Companion Chronicles without the advantages of a full cast audio drama. Although you can occasionally detect the age in her voice (she is, after all, a near septuagenarian playing a character in her mid-twenties!), Manning still manages to recapture the qualities that make Jo so fondly remembered to this day: her naivety, compassion, courage and impetuousness. Briggs shows he has a very good handle for Jo’s character and that’s she not just a “dolly bird” assistant; she makes some critical discoveries through her own detective work, aided by Doctor Who veteran David Graham’s befuddled character Shedgerton. Manning’s scenes with Shedgerton are also illustrative of the rapport Jo could quickly develop with supporting characters, and how she could bring out the best in those people.

Jo’s reaction to the “new” Doctor is also an intriguing part of the story, even though she is cut off from him for almost a good half of the serial. She is familiar with regeneration (this story, for her, occurring not long after the events of The Three Doctors) but she is nevertheless uncertain how much she should trust this stranger claiming to be the Doctor. At first, her accidental acknowledgments of this man as the Doctor is a frequent source of humour – both with the Seventh Doctor himself and the listener alike – but by the climax, Jo’s faith in the Time Lord is unfailing – to a fault. Like her attempt at self-sacrifice in The Daemons or Ace’s conviction in the Doctor in The Curse of Fenric, Jo’s belief proves to be critical ...

McCoy and Manning eclipse the play’s other performers. Franklin is underused as Yates but makes the most of his limited role. Edwards and Roberts are unconvincing villains, although you get the impression their caricatures of old school soldiers is a deliberate feature of Briggs’ writing. Graham is surprisingly convincing as the constantly bewildered, yet courageous Shedgerton (his reaction when he is introduced to the interior of the TARDIS gives off the impression it is the least of all the uncertainty he’s had to deal with!). Hackneyed accents aside, Bavidge and Fielder are also proficient as two of the lsle’s local publicans as well as the alien antagonists.

Indeed, if there is one disappointing aspect of the sound effects, it is the Europans’ voices. The aliens sound too often like wounded 1960s Cybermen or 1970s Silurians and their voices are so high pitched and heavily modulated that they are at times almost inaudible. You either have to play back the tracks on the serial to understand what they are saying or listen to the story multiple times to improve your understanding of their dialogue. Perhaps the voices are also an attempt by Briggs to recapture the style of alien tones frequently tried during the Pertwee era – the quality of sounds used back then were experimental and on repeat viewings today can still grate with the audience because the dialogue is hard to understand. When sound is so integral to BF’s output, it’s ludicrous to compromise the story out of affection for archaic sound techniques which are incomprehensible to the listener.

Nevertheless, Joe Kramer’s sound design and incidental music does enough to evoke impressions of the era of Doctor Who in which this story is ostensibly set while also providing some stirring and exciting passages of music. Although I’m a great admirer of film and TV soundtracks, I don’t often notice incidental music on BF audios largely because I’m focusing on plot and characterisation while listening. However, for The Defectors, I did notice and enjoy the music. Some of the cues Kramer uses – particularly for the lighter moments that exploit Jo’s accidental acknowledgements of the Doctor – are reminiscent of the humorous cues that Dudley Simpson employed in the Pertwee era. But there are also tracks in the story that are grander and more ambitious than what Simpson or his contemporaries in the BBC’s Radiophonic Workshop could have attempted. Kramer’s passage of music when UNIT helicopters converge on Delphin Isle in the story’s climactic moments has an almost cinematic tone, daresay of the likes of Apocalypse Now. It just illustrates how far along music has come in 50 years; compositions that would have taken Simpson or the Radiophonic Workshop weeks to develop on what was then considered state of the art equipment can probably be replicated on Big Finish’s studio facilities in a matter of minutes.

The Defectors is a solid start to the “locum Doctors” trilogy and a fun, entertaining and well thought out morality tale in its own right. By the end of the serial, we are no clearer about why the Doctor has been drawn back earlier into his time stream or who or what has perpetrated it. No doubt more clues will be laid in the next instalment Last of the Cybermen and answered in “200th” release The Secret History*, with Colin Baker and Peter Davison respectively. If The Defectors is any guide, then these instalments should be just as entertaining.

* Author’s note: BF’s Doctor Who output over the last 16 years truly exceeds 200 releases, considering the “main range” does not encompass the Fourth and Eighth Doctor adventures (whose output alone equates to an extra 100 titles), Companion Chronicles, Lost Stories and numerous Whoniverse spin-offs, eg Gallifrey, Jago & Litefoot, Counter-Measures, Dalek Empire, Professor Bernice Summerfield, etc.

 

Last of the Gadarene is an unabridged reading of a novel by Mark Gatiss featuring the third Doctor, Jo Grant and UNIT. Gatiss’ narrative captures perfectly the feel of Season 10. The story’s main setting is a quiet country village which backs onto a disused aerodrome. Immediately this calls to mind the quaint country setting of Devil’s End in The Dæmons although in this story the fictional village is the more subtly named Culverton. Last of the Gadarene feels very typical of the sort of invasion story for which the Pertwee era of Doctor Who is generally remembered. UNIT are called in to investigate sinister goings on at the aerodrome which has been taken over by a mysterious black uniformed organisation named Legion International. From the opening quotation of The Gospel of Mark, Gatiss’ narrative is very atmospheric as it slowly builds towards a splendid reveal at the conclusion of Chapter 20 which, whilst not entirely surprising, is still a pleasing moment for fans of this era.

Richard Franklin was perhaps not the most obvious choice to narrate this audio version as unlike some of the UNIT regulars, Captain Yates only appears very fleetingly in a couple of the chapters. In the absence of the much-missed Nicholas Courtney, it might have been more appropriate to have asked Katy Manning as Jo Grant is present throughout most of the story although even she might have struggled with some of the impersonations required. Overall, Franklin does a creditable job. He captures Pertwee very well, admittedly assisted by the fact that Gatiss has clearly written the Doctor he remembered from childhood. Some amusement may be found from his country bumpkin accent for Sergeant Benton which is reminiscent of an extra from The Archers, rather than evoking John Levene.

The reading is largely left unaccompanied except for a limited selection of music cues for some of the action scenes and otherwise subtle use of background sound effects. An exception to this is at the climax of the story where the sound designers have chosen to bring in a voice changing effect for an alien character which having done without for the preceeding 7 discs seems an unnecessary last minute addition. Fortunately the narrative is allowed to evoke an atmosphere of sinister threat and excitement without being overwhelmed which is does very effectively, except for a couple of moments when Franklin over-emphasises a word or sentence in a way that sounds different to the imagined voice of the author.

In conclusion, Last of the Gadarene makes for an enjoyable listen with Franklin an able narrator. As the story unfolds and reaches a worthwhile conclusion it is clear that this is Gatiss’ love letter to the Doctor Who of his childhood and as such is a well-deserved audio release.

Few keen Doctor Who fans will deny that 'The Talons Of Weng Chiang' saw the show at one of its absolute peaks. It featured arguably the best Doctor of them all in Tom Baker, one of the most original companions in Leela (acted to perfection by Louise Jameson), and Robert Holmes' terrific script brought to life expertly by David Maloney and his crew. The story also signalled the end of the frequently dubbed 'Golden Era', overseen by producer Philip Hinchcliffe.

Much like the previously reviewed 'Countermeasures', this ongoing series of original adventures sees excellent supported characters from a landmark story being given their own starring honours. Henry Gordan Jago and Professor George Litefoot were instantly likeable characters with very human strengths and weaknesses. Both acted as great foils for the Doctor and Leela, yet it was the chemistry they shared with one another in the climactic episodes of 'Talons' that signified something truly special: a pairing of two unique individuals whereby one complemented the other perfectly. They were the epitome of the 'Holmes Double Act' - a motif often imitated but never bettered. And I say that despite my high regard for 'Revelation Of The Daleks'.

This fifth series is the consequence of a solitary play in Big Finish’s Companion Chronicles hitting all the right notes, i.e. 'The Mahogany Murderers'. Andy Lane’s then-new story for the lovable duo was of sufficient success that Big Finish pushed on to make this very popular ongoing series of new adventures.

One distinct plus for me is that both Benjamin and Baxter are men who had mature voices when we first saw them on-screen, and thus the continuity of their further adventures feels absolutelty authentic to the ear..

The great hook for this sequence of escapades is that the two friends are left stranded in 1960s England thanks to the slight carelessness of the Sixth Doctor; this following the previous Big Finish adventures 'Voyage to Venus' and 'Voyage to the New World'. On my part I confess that I come into this long running series without having heard the earlier seasons, but this did not impact on my enjoyment or my ability to grasp what is essentially going on.

 

'The Age of Revolution' is a very solid beginning, which balances exposition, character development and dynamic suspense most deftly indeed. The villain is suitably hiss-able, with a clear objective that is credible, and we care enough as listeners for the various 'sacrificial lambs' that feature. The framing device of having Detective Sacker - a descendent of another supporting character from the Victorian time zone of earlier seasons -  investigate and narrate some of the play works well.

Also welcome is bringing back a fan favourite in Ellie (played by Lisa Bowerman - most well-known as Seventh Doctor companion Bernice Summerfield) who happens to now have a much longer shelf life in the aftermath of facing vampires.

The actual 'McGuffin' is the well-known trope of a crystal that can sway hordes of people, except when another crystal comes into play, that is. How this danger is averted before events spiral out of control is well-done and also services the key requirement of producing good character development for the main leads.

Many avid Doctor Who fans know that Jonathan Morris can write well and then some, and is always mindful of evoking the era of Doctor Who that a particular story owes its flavour to.  As in all good Who the blend of humour, drama and sheer entertainment is right on point.

 

'The Case of The Gluttonous Guru' is also fun in its own way if a small step down in its success. It also perhaps falls short of what Marc Platt truly can muster when he is really on song. The food humour from several scenes in 'Ghost Light ' seems to be the main foundation for the play. It is certainly an enjoyable story, with good pace and committed guest performances that are infused with relish. In terms of what can be denoted as flawed, the villain does rather feel like a mere henchman in thrall to his cause, which would be fine except that there is no major opposition to fill the void.

This matters little though when character building and proper exploration of the move to the 20th century are clearly well thought out by the production team. The ending has a certain simplistic elegance which can be hard to pull off, but in this case is decidedly innocent of the deuc ex machina cliche.

 

The third play of the four - 'The Bloodchild Codex' - although frequently seeming competent enough in a given scene, ultimately comes off as the 'weak link' of the season. I did not really get the right sense for what jeopardy was involved. The seemingly primary villains do not really stand out that much, with rather sketchy motivations, which is odd given the clear detailing of the actual power of a rare book that offers more than just the written word. Also I feel Litefoot is a bit out of character when it comes to the resolution, showing some of the cold bloodedness and/or flippancy that most Doctors - apart from perhaps the Sixth and Ninth - would definitely frown upon. However the cliff hanger ending leading into season closer 'The Final Act' is expertly done and almost washes away the disappointment of the prior closing tracks.

 

And what a thrilling, enjoyable and revelatory finale we are given on this CD. This play owes a lot to the core source material of 'Talons of Weng Chiang', and yet never feels tired or derivative - thanks to the clear differences involved in being over seven decades ahead of the original encounter with Greel and Mr Sin. There is not much time taken to catch a breath, as Godiva - the overall villain of Series 5 - is operating in fifth gear in order to achieve her goals. Raquel Cassidy presents the right amount of sassiness, cold-bloodedness and over the top devotion to her cause, and never fails to grip the listener's attention. Not only Jago and Litefoot are needed to thwart her, as both Ellie and Sacker have their important parts to play.The ruthlessness of one villain not needing another adds a bit of zest to the final climax as well, and a sacrifice or two on the heroes' side is required, but somehow feels like a big positive when it might not have been in a subtly different scenario .

 

Reflection on the box set as a whole: this represents enjoyable 'spin off' Doctor Who material featuring a good helping of talent -  be they those in the production team,  the leading and supporting actors, or the experienced writers who know how to do a fun bit of escapism. Most of all Christopher Benjamin and Trevor Baxter are utterly captivating leading men, and I look forward to hearing more of their teamwork in both future and past stories.     

The third in the current run of Fourth Doctor Adventures continues a purple patch of strong stories. Requiem for the Rocket Men is an absolute gem. Some stories are layer cakes. This one’s more like pass the parcel, as layers of story become more apparent as it progresses.

 

This is a caper movie in Audiobook form, more Ocean’s Eleven thanThe Sun Makers. Ostensibly this is the story of the Doctor’s capture by the fading Rocket Men, who have a price on his head in true Jabba the Hutt style. The Doctor is delivered to their blustering King Shandar at their orbital base at the same time the Master arrives to talk business, with predictably chaotic results involving explosions and Tissue Compression.

 

However, all is not as it seems – and writer John Dorney cleverly heaps double-cross on double-cross, with Tom Baker having a very good day as a Doctor revelling in just how clever he’s being.  You almost feel sorry for Shandar (Mark Frost), a dim thug at the head of a fading criminal empire - outclassed and humiliated at every turn by a pair of warring Time Lords. The Doctor’s out to destroy Shandar's operation. The Master is just unimpressed. Even when Shandar tries to boast about his ‘most wanted’ status, K9 corrects him and points out that the Rani and the Terrible Zodin are higher up in the league table.

 

This story is particularly strong for both the Master and Leela. Geoffrey Beevers is as silkily charming and malevolent as usual, and, for a change, the Master gets some good character moments. At one point, believing he’s actually killed the Doctor, the scales fall – and, briefly bereft, he asks “What will I do tomorrow?” His introduction to K9 (unbelievably, they’ve never crossed paths up to now) is also priceless.

 

However, this story really belongs to Leela. Told partly in flashback, it opens and closes on the same moment -  her musing whether she has learned all she can from the Doctor in her travels, and whether she should move on, as the pupil becomes the master (no, not that one). The main reason for her decision to leave is her serious chemistry with the man sent to hunt her, Rocket Man Marshall (Damian Lynch). Marshall’s not a good man yet, but he’s trying to be – and Leela thinks she could teach him more. One final dramatic rug-pull later though, and we’re left with a cliffhanger carrying through to Death Match, as the Master swoops in and kidnaps her.

 

This character development really works for Leela. She and Marshall are well-matched, and the relationship is played well by Louise Jameson and Lynch. The only problem is that their chemistry is too natural. We already know how she leaves the Doctor. In her not-too-distant future, she’s going to inexplicably settle for Andred, a union which, 37 years on, still has fandom scratching his head and saying “Is she really going out with him?”. Requiem for the Rocket Men manages to fit a far more convincing relationship curve into around an hour than The Invasion of Time manages in six whole episodes. It’s not Big Finish’s fault. Dorney’s script is excellent. It’s what happens in the TV series that feels wrong in this light.

 

Nevertheless, it’s going to be interesting to see how this pans out, and if it makes some sense of a famously rushed exit. Next stop: Death Match.