More than any Big Finish release before it, Ghost in the Machine is a grand showcase of Katy Manning’s ability to give a spectacular isolated (in more ways than one) performance. Sharing the stage only with one other actor, as is the norm for the Companion Chronicles range, Manning slips back into the role of Jo Grant with ease, while simultaneously bringing the listener some sterling renditions of secondary characters such as the Doctor and the piece’s central antagonist. If her recent appearance in The Sarah Jane Adventures wasn’t strong enough as evidence, then Ghost brilliantly reinforces our confidence in Jo and the voice behind her.

To make one matter abundantly clear, however, this is not Big Finish’s pièce de résistance of horror storytelling. Claims from some reviewers that Ghost in the Machine is the studio’s 2013 equivalent to Blink and Midnight are wildly off the mark. While there is effective atmospheric drama on display here, the script never reaches the benchmark of its predecessors for sheer fear factor. Indeed, the majority of the two-part drama’s tension dissipates in its second half; when the inevitable eventual presence of the show’s eponymous Time Lord ensures that the overall threat of Jo’s adversary seems minimal at best. Ghost’s antagonist certainly pales in comparison to the Weeping Angels and Russell T. Davies’ haunting, nameless Shadow, it has to be said.

Doubly infuriating is the recurrent sense that we’ve seen this all before. Although the classic series didn’t dabble quite so frequently with the potential meta-infused nature of televisual drama, at least not until its later days in instances such as Vengeance of Varos, this flirtation is practically the chalk and cheese of ‘new Who’. As such, a narrative involving voices manifested by and trapped on cassette records must ultimately be reminiscent of recent TV adventures, The Idiot’s Lantern, Silence in the Library and The Bells of Saint John all echoed in one way or another during this subtle adventure. Even the resolution feels as if ripped from the latter, the Third Doctor’s daring gambit hitting many of the same beats as the Eleventh Doctor’s turning the tables on Miss Kizlet earlier this year.

Thank the heavens, then, for Manning, whose work here should doubtless spark the immediate and prolonged engagement of any listener. It would be an impressive feat alone for the 1970s star to simply recapture the essence of her own character forty years on from her departure, yet she doesn’t stop there by any stretch, her portrayals of Pertwee’s Theta Sigma and the original foe of the drama equally as noteworthy, if not moreso. Few listeners would blame the Companion Chronicles contributors for becoming complacent as to their talents six years on from the range’s inception, so for Manning to move as far from resting on her laurels as humanly possible produces enriching results for any fan lucky enough to have experienced Jo Grant as she first appeared in 1971-1973.

If only Damian Lynch weren’t short-changed by the inherently unoriginal dialogue offered to his disembodied secondary narrator, then perhaps Ghost’s dynamic duo would have created a more well-rounded set of portrayals overall. Ultimately, Jonathan Morris’ script recalls this year’s Season Seven Part Two opener too visibly in its depiction of Lynch’s Benjamin Chikoto, a detrimental issue which in tandem with the gradually reduced tension restricts the release’s potential. Lynch’s failure to impress would be less surprising if newcomers to the Whoniverse showed a general trend of underwhelming performances at Big Finish, but fans only need to check out Jo Woodcock’s brilliant work in Starlight Robbery to discover that’s far from the case, another benchmark in which this potent drama falls oh-so-slightly short.

What does seem to reside as a trend of late in Big Finish’s Doctor Who releases is the sense that were some of their recent audio dramas to not have featured their accomplished central or supporting star(s), the lack of inspiration found in their narratives would leave plenty more to be desired. In the 50th Anniversary year, there’s little surprise in the studio’s election to revive revered adversaries like the Daleks, the Sontarans and the Master in Daleks Among Us, Starlight and The Light at the End respectively, but that accepted strategy simply cannot compensate for the disconcerting recognition that those stories lacking an iconic ‘classic’ element have been sorely lacking in the innovation department.

I refer once more to Steven Moffat’s election to have The Day of the Doctor focus primarily on setting up another fifty years of Doctor Who rather than simply nodding and winking towards the highlights of the last half century. In spite of the daunting audacity required to take such an approach, this reviewer would have applauded a greater confidence from Big Finish to take creative risks in what is a groundbreaking year of change for the show on screen. Ghost in the Machine is supported in great measure by Katy Manning’s superb contribution, yet for a studio which managed the impossible in aiding the strive to keep Who alive in the midst of its cancellation era, this is uncomfortably safe territory, an occasionally chilling but regularly familiar listen that holds scarce surprises for any initiated fan.

In bringing the Lost Stories to life, it is always interesting to see the ideas that get cut out for one reason or another. At times, the avid Whovian can be positively baffled at the decisions made by the producers (Farewell, Great Macedon) and at others, awestruck at the lack of quality or offensive content that almost got put on our screen (Mission to Magnus). It's always interesting to hear these stories and guess as to why they were cut (and if there are bonus extras explaining it, then that's all the better).

Listening to this one, it's abundantly clear the reason it was cut was due to the budget. There are no extras to confirm it, but this is such a visual extravaganza that I cannot help to think that producing it would be near impossible on anything but a monumental budget. The interplay between light and darkness, the immense crystal city, and the numerous special effects (flight being the biggest one) could not be reasonably portrayed on a 1960's BBC teatime-slot TV budget. Plain and simple.

The strength of this story lies in what is known as mise-en-scene. It's a French concept important for film or televised reviews, but it refers in a general sense to everything that is put in front of a camera. It refers to the acting, the set design, the costume design, the framing, and the lighting. Now, this may seem a little counter-intuitive as this is an audio medium and an audience will not not see these portrayed physically in front of them as one would in a typical film or television show. However, I would refer you to my review of The Creed of the Kromon (found here), where I talk about the cinematography present in the imagination of the audience and aver that audio is indeed a visual medium. Thus, I would argue, talking about aspects of visual framing is equally valid in a well-portrayed audio play as in a film. Though, I will admit, there are some variables in this framing based on the individual audience member's own imagination, a properly produced story can control those variables through effective sound design and writing.

The mise-en-scene of The Dark Planet is found, unsurprisingly, in the use of light and shadow. It is a story of two races of a planet, one of light and one of dark respectively, engaged in an epic struggle so its use of light and shadow is unsurprising. The caverns below are properly dark, damp, and evoke a feeling of claustraphobia with its seemingly contradictory immense physical spaciousness and the all-enveloping darkness. This is reflected in the descriptions and the deep, dark sounds that seem to echo in every direction. This creates an effective feeling of fear by contrasting that very large, forboding physical darkness with the smaller Barbara. Barbara is framed in the centre of your mental image throughout her interactions down below due to the fact that large chunks of that story are distinctly from her perspective. Since I feel many people imagine these 60's era Lost Stories in black and white (I certainly do), as Barbara often dresses in lighter clothing, the contrast between Barbara and the darkness is highlighted further. The mise-en-scene of Barbara, in her light clothing and in the centre of the frame, confronting the darkness is one of great contrast The tableaux of her standing against a seemingly neverending, physical and potentially malevolent darkness is a powerful one.

Meanwhile, the city of light is similarly realised. The mise-en-scene of certain moments needs to be pointed out here as well. For example, the numerous descriptions of the environments as being so white as to be confusing and the beautiful crystal as being so transparent as to not be able to truly figure out the paths it takes, creates a set that is rife with confusion, but also beauty. The moments where The Doctor and his friends fly, in particular, create a beautiful landscape of the confusing, jagged, but orderly crystals in the background and our heroes in centre frame. They're entering a world they don't truly understand, but it's a world that operates under certain rules and its one they aim to be heroes in. The set-design creates a sense of this contrast of chaos and order and, likewise, the framing of putting our heroes front-and-centre in our mind as they rise both visually realises their attempted rise to hero-dom and puts the un-relatable city in the background at odds with the heroes in the foreground.

Now, as I said, realising any of these moments would be near impossible on the budget of the time. However, this is not entirely true. One could obtain the same results with a skilled director and cinematographer. Though I know many Whovians will hate me for saying it, no such directors or cinematographers existed during this time and, I would argue, none exist to the present day. Directors that talented would have to realise the story with existing light fixtures. With brilliant cinematography and a creative use of blocking and zooming to allow for different lighting to show on different scales (for example, showing darkness in a close-up, rather than a full-shot, to create an illusion of darkness all around). This sort of directing is the sort that masters such as Teshigahara or Ozu were known for. Put simply, and it is unfortunate, these sorts of directors only typically direct film – not television. The 60's directors were incredibly skilled and, indeed, many of the shots (particularly of the first episode of the series) were brilliantly done, especially considering how much of the show was done as-live. In fact, to be honest, I think some of the directing of the 60's is the strongest in the show's history. But none of it was up to the task of realising this story properly.

This may be a bit misleading, however. It is a master-class in formalist/expressionist Doctor Who, but it isn't really anything to write home about in terms of plot. The main issue it has is that it is entirely too predictable. From the beginning, we as an audience know almost exactly what is going to happen. Once The Doctor declares that maybe the Darkness isn't all that bad, we know that it will be a plot of trying to get The Darkness and The Light to communicate with each other. The issue is, this obvious path for the plot to go down is made obvious in Part Two. There are four parts left. We, as humans, love to guess at the next path the plot will take. What will happen next. In this serial, the path is entirely clear. The team will get split up and, one representing Darkness and one representing Light, they will come together and either form peace or create tragedy. The only real area where the audience is left guessing is which ending it will take. So, episodes three through five end up suffering as a result. They're gorgeous and, indeed, the story should be listened to if only for the visuals, but they're not engaging in the slightest. The story picks up at episode six, however, and ends on an interesting, visually beautiful note.

There's also a number of good character moments, ranging from Vicki's friendship with the light child, The Doctor's antagonism with the Light King (though he calls himself by another title, he's clearly the King), and Barbara's heroism in dealing with the Darkness. Still, to call this a character piece would be misrepresenting it. It's a formalist piece. It means to impress you with visuals and create a universe that you want to look at and feel things from. Almost all of the feelings created in this serial are visual – and there's nothing wrong with that (in fact, it's the essence of formalism). As I am a huge fan of formalism, I found it engaging and enjoyable (if not particularly life-changing as-in Masadon). If you are more a fan of classicism or realism, I would very strongly suggest avoiding this serial.

It should be said, Steven Moffat has had a lot of cleaning to do. Whether you think it was justified or not, Russell T Davies had an intensely cavalier approach to Doctor Who canon. The most common valid complaint against him was that he simply mis-characterised existing characters. In reality, what Davies did was simplified the characters to their base elements, then boiled away all but one, which he turned up to eleven. He made them into caricatures of their former selves. With The Master and Davros, it was their insanity. Everything else was lost and he was reduced to that element of his personality. With The Doctor, he removed almost everything else, took the danger, darkness, and snark, and turned it up to 12.

To many, myself included, this characterisation felt dishonest to the original. In fact, the most common complaint against David Tennant's Doctor, from those who have seen significant quantities of Classic Who, was that he simply didn't “feel like” The Doctor for explicitly these reasons.

Now, I'm sure at this point you're wondering what this has to do with The Night of The Doctor. The connection is simple. Steven Moffat attempted to explain this drastic, and jarring, change in his personality. Simply chanting “Time War,” referring to an off-screen plot device rather than showing actual character growth is lazy and unsatisfying, so Moffat actually came up with an on-screen reason for it. The elixir that Eight drinks, much like the crack in time that erased the ill-conceived (and appallingly designed) Cyberking from history, spackling over these cracks in the canon. It explained the personality change – The Doctor had to become this darker, more aggressive man to fight this Time War. He had to literally become a different person. It stands to reason that in the next regenerations, this would gradually wear-off and he'd become more like he was. While I can hardly explain why Ten was infinitely less Doctor-like than Nine, it fits perfectly that Eleven, possibly after seeing how far his “War” persona took him as Ten, forced himself to regenerate in such a way that brought him more in-line with how he used to be. The fact that Eleven feels many times more like The Doctors of the Classic series actually makes a good degree of sense with this in mind. It will be interesting to see how Capaldi takes on the character, keeping this theory in consideration.

So Moffat had this goal in his script already. But he also aimed to seek a gap in the show's existing canon – to provide a regeneration for Eight. While it's hardly the best regeneration in the show's history, it is definitely better than some of the worse ones (Six, Seven, Ten). One couldn't provide a satisfying regeneration for Eight without a lot of build-up and, for what it's worth, Moffat does try to provide that by referencing, and making canonical, his many years of Big Finish audios. This isn't as effective as it could possibly be, but Moffat made Big Finish canonical and I am quite pleased at that fact (as, I imagine, he is as well. Being an immense fan of their work himself).

The question now is where Eight goes from here. There are petitions online to get him his own spin-off series. If this happens, it will be curious to see where they approach it and who is put in charge. I, for one, and firmly in the camp supporting a spin-off, as I believe Paul McGann's physicality can lend a lot to the series, but only on the condition that they do not attempt to recast existing Big Finish companions. Just as Karen Gillan was almost rejected for not being “pretty enough,” I fear India Fisher may get recast for not being a stick. What's more likely, however, is that Eight will get an all-new companion developed by the head-writer of the show. I would be thrilled to see this, provided they don't go and attempt to inject another canonical romance into the series. It's weird and we already have enough wars being fought in the fandom over Rose/River/no-one as-is. We don't need any more.

If The Day of the Doctor is a vast, intergalactic exploration of Doctor Who’s fictitious mythology, steeped in pseudo-fantastical grandeur as it depicts a wealth of extraterrestrial planets beyond our own, then BBC Two’s celebratory lecture programme The Science of Doctor Who is a more grounded, logical take on that same mythology. Presented by Brian Cox, it delves into those age-old, fascinating concepts of time travel and other-worldly creatures, Cox’s perspective on the reality of such matters proving nothing short of captivating overall.

Something which will no doubt come as a pleasant shock to viewers is the inherent accessibility of this one-off instalment of scientific analysis from Cox. The English physicist’s powerful respect for the show which the programme celebrates is clear from the outset, with references to the Eye of Harmony and foes such as the Daleks thrown in for good measure throughout. At the same time, however, fans should be cautious with their expectations, for the Whoniverse can often feel like a tangential strand in the course of the lecture. There’s the sense that Doctor Who’s 50th Anniversary has simply offered Cox the chance to take up a long desired opportunity to exhibit his passionate views on the realms of science-fiction, for better or for worse.

This isn’t to say that Science doesn’t come recommended as a compelling step further towards the big day, only a conceptual health warning that the show itself isn’t the key focus here. What Cox does have to say on the TARDIS’ capability of time travel and its implications is nevertheless thoroughly engaging, his manner of expression of the layered mechanisms which we perceive as operating in what we call ‘time’ neither alienating for newcomers to the field nor condescending for viewers who bring a degree of prior knowledge into the lecture. Walking such a delicate line between accessibility and depth of content can’t have been a simple prospect for the lecturer, yet on a surface level at least, he appears to pull off this particular feat with ease.

In spite of the programme’s focus often lying beyond the confines of Doctor Who’s ongoing narrative, a few delectable moments of direct correlation with the travels of the Doctor do feature along the way. Matt Smith reprises his role as the character’s eleventh incarnation in a series of brief sequences aboard the TARDIS with Cox, one example of which can already be glimpsed in the BBC’s trailer for the lecture. As ever, Smith gives a bombastic performance, energetic and refusing to stand still for the most part. Although in the show’s latter fictitious segue-way scenes, his portrayal becomes that much more subtle and emotionally intricate, his final message resonating beautifully with Cox’s closing words on the potential impact he hopes his lecture may have on the younger members of his audience.

Another satisfying deviation from the norm comes with Cox’s calling upon a variety of colleagues and thespians from his audience to partake in revelatory experiments. Charles Dance is a particularly memorable contributor, his likening of a test involving chemical spray and Bunsen burners not to his school days but to “psychedelic rock concerts” a brilliant, oh-so-characteristic highlight from the Game of Thrones star. Isolated moments such as these encapsulate the understated British charm that pervades the show’s fifty-year history, an admirable achievement in itself for a singular lecture which lasts barely an hour and as such only has so much time for its helm to bring across his central ideas.

But if there’s one element which Doctor Who has never ceased to manipulate to its advantage, it’s that which lies at the heart of the show- time. Similarly, Cox uses the brevity of his lecture’s allotted running time to great effect, the points he presents never outstaying their welcome or becoming so convoluted as to prove detrimental to the programme’s structure. Matt’s various cameos in proceedings are welcome and satisfying to be sure, yet of greater merit is the fact that this one-off instalment would not suffer in the slightest were its fictitious sequences absent.

The Science of Doctor Who may not deal with the Doctor’s mythology as regularly as fans might have expected from a programme in the BBC’s 50th Anniversary celebratory roster, but it remains an engaging watch throughout. With any luck, as Cox suggests, perhaps this single, isolated lecture will one day inspire a boy or a girl to search for the answers to time’s mysteries when they reach adulthood. In doing so, they could very well change our perspective on our world and the wider universe, just as an aspiring science-fiction drama once did on a cold Winter’s night in 1963.

With The Day of the Doctor almost upon us, fans’ expectations as Doctor Who’s 50th anniversary draws closer is reaching pressure cooker proportions. Fans are fickle beasts most of the time but there is little doubt that on 23 November, the 50th anniversary will be all about the new TV serial. They will all but forget the other Doctor Who spin-offs honouring the parent series’ milestone – the audios, books, comics and short stories will all pale by comparison.

It is for this reason that Big Finish undoubtedly chose to launch its own tribute to the 50th anniversary – The Light at the End – a month early so that the story could have some oxygen, free of the very celebrations of which it is a part. However, when you consider all the publicity about this release, it has from the outset been deliberately low key. That is probably the right approach, especially for someone like me (who despite writing this review) is a little fatigued by yet another multi-Doctor reunion.

I have to admit that I was never going to reserve for The Light at the End the kind of baited breath that I have for The Day of the Doctor. There are numerous reasons for this. The first, of course, is that Light was always going to be a fairly predictable multi-Doctor reunion. Yes, it marks the first time Tom Baker has actively shared the limelight with the other Doctors (I don’t count Dimensions in Time! No one damn should!) so perhaps that is extra cause for celebration. However, that small landmark aside, Doctor Who spin-off fiction over the last 30 years has literally done multi-Doctor team-ups to death – and mostly not very well (there is a good reason why the TV series only does them sparingly). Occasionally, there are standout efforts (such as the Missing Adventure Cold Fusion, Big Finish’s own Project: Lazarus or IDW’s The Forgotten) but the majority of these stories have been average at best (Big Finish’s Sirens of Time and The Four Doctors) or atrocious at worst (Uncle Terrance’s The Eight Doctors). It definitely takes something – and often someone - special to do a multi-Doctor story that is clever and innovative.

The Light at the End at least gets a pass mark but is average all the same. Nicholas Briggs delivers an adventure that will never be hailed in the annals of Doctor Who as a classic – or even as a classic of the Big Finish audio range. It is a relatively simplistic story at its heart and it never really tries to be daring or ambitious, whether with its premise or its characters – which is perhaps its saving grace. Although the story throws the Doctor’s first eight incarnations and numerous companions together, Nick Briggs does not allow it to get too bogged down in the series’ continuity. Instead he focuses on a fast-paced, workmanlike tale that resists being a Five Doctors-style extravaganza.

Aided willingly by a new race of arms dealers called the Vess and inadvertently by a bunch of rogue and incompetent Time Lord agents, an earlier version of the Master (brilliantly portrayed as ever by Geoffrey Beevers) finally obtains the means to wreak his ultimate revenge on the Doctor. No dark Doctors, no Time Wars, no Dalek and Time Lord armies to be seen here! The Light at the End is an almost simple, plain (dare I say dull?) and traditional Doctor Who adventure.

There isn’t really a lot of intrigue in this story. The exception comes at the half-way mark of the narrative when we encounter poor Bob Dovie. His story is chilling – the atmosphere in his home as the Fifth Doctor and Nyssa investigate his plight is sinister and frightening and you cannot help but sympathise for an ordinary man whose world has been shattered by the impromptu, random appearance of a police telephone box (in a manner similar to the Eleventh Doctor’s arrival in Amy Pond’s garden in The Eleventh Hour). Despite what the back cover blurb of the CD sleeve may say, the story is not solely about Dovie (although it could have been a so much more interesting, disturbing and darker tale if it had been).

Where Briggs succeeds is in his characterisation and plotting. He manages to spread the action around the different Doctors and companions relatively well – this would be no easy task yet the changes to the listening experience are almost seamless and flow smoothly. One moment you’re listening to the Eighth and Fourth Doctors striving to stop the TARDIS from self-destructing, the next you’re listening to the Fifth Doctor and Nyssa investigating the source of the mysterious anomaly that has brought the Doctors together. The Seventh Doctor and Ace are then escaping from intelligent mud (yes, you read that correctly!) and the Sixth Doctor and Peri are back in the TARDIS averting near disaster. There is no doubt all the to-ing and fro-ing is dependent on a deep knowledge and understanding of the conventions of the TV series and of the audios. A casual listener – or at least someone only familiar with the modern series of Doctor Who – would be utterly flummoxed trying to follow what is happening.

All of the major players in this story acquit themselves well – Tom Baker, Peter Davison, Colin Baker, Sylvester McCoy and Paul McGann (the “incumbent” Doctor in this tale, as it begins and ends with him and companion Charley Pollard). Tom Baker’s Doctor is surprisingly muted, especially considering the commanding presence he had at his peak. Perhaps this is down to Tom’s age but his Doctor seems a lot mellower than he was during his era and even in his recent Big Finish adventures. He also doesn’t take charge of the other Doctors (as one might expect) – it is actually Colin Baker’s Doctor that unravels the mystery and marshals the other Doctors in the climactic stages of the story (which pleases this Sixth Doctor fan immensely). From the exchanges in dialogue between the two, McGann clearly enjoys the pairing with Tom. Indeed, he revealed at an Australian convention earlier this year that he found working with Tom fascinating - showing that even a veteran like McGann can learn a new trick or two from Tom’s wily old dog.

There are some memorable exchanges between the different Doctors which show a different side of our favourite Time Lord’s vanity. For example, the Fourth Doctor has a predictably aghast reaction to the Sixth Doctor’s wardrobe:

Fourth: Do I really end up with such a terrible sense of fashion?
Eighth: Says the man in the impractical scarf! It’s all a question of taste, I suppose.
Fourth: I suppose that would explain your Wild Bill Hickok costume!
Eighth (As if he’s only just considered his attire!): Hmmm ... Most people think it’s something to do with Byron!

Obviously all of this is written with lots of subtle in-jokes and asides to the fans. The Fourth Doctor’s claim to be “the definite article” not only repeats a remark he made to Harry Sullivan in his debut story Robot but recalls the similarly emphatic declaration by Richard Hurndall’s First Doctor in The Five Doctors that he is “the original you might say!” Even the Sixth Doctor’s compliment of his immediate successor as a “charming fellow” is a knowing wink for long time listeners of the Big Finish audios – it shows how much the Big Finish version of Colin Baker’s Doctor has matured from the aggressive TV persona which looked down his nose at his second incarnation in The Two Doctors.

The first three Doctors cameo in a manner that is eerily reminiscent of The Three Doctors and The Five Doctors (sadly, it seems the real life universe abhors too many Doctors in anniversary stories!). It is heavily implied that they are also working behind the scenes to assist the later Doctors, although their participation in the tale is conveniently stifled by temporal interference. William Russell, Frazer Hines and Tim Treloar provide sound caricatures of the Time Lord’s first three incarnations (they’re not really accurate recreations). It’s a pity Briggs could not have given them more to do in the narrative but I suspect with so many Doctors and companions, this would have been stretching a relatively one-dimensional story far too thin.

As it stands, this tale predictably renders the Doctors’ various companions redundant. Louise Jameson and Sophie Aldred as Leela and Ace respectively get the best treatment in the story – most likely because of their more dynamic and action-driven characters – and their meetings with the other Doctors are memorable (Ace in particular makes a great foil for the Sixth Doctor!). Nicola Bryant (Peri), Sarah Sutton (Nyssa) and India Fisher (Charley) all make the most of their limited roles but otherwise would not have been missed.

My greatest disappointment with this audio is the climax. I’m reluctant to talk too much about it as I will give away a major spoiler but it employs a deus ex machina that I personally loathe and which I consider a cheat, a cop-out and downright lazy – especially from an experienced writer like Nicholas Briggs. Nevertheless, the epilogue with the hapless Bob Dovie provides some light relief and some reassurance to a disappointed listener.

The Light at the End is inevitably a sentimental, entertaining romp from Big Finish that was always intended to celebrate Doctor Who’s 50th anniversary. It doesn’t really offer anything groundbreaking to the Doctor Who mythos (not in the way I expect The Day of the Doctor will) nor even to Big Finish’s own corner of the Whoniverse. But then again it doesn’t pretend to be anything it’s not either. What you hear is pretty much what you get! If you’re a keen follower of the classic series and enjoy hearing the Doctor’s different incarnations butt heads, then you’ll be pleased. But if you want something with more gravitas for the anniversary, then you’re better off waiting for The Day of the Doctor.

"Oh, I’m much more than one man. I’m an eleven-man team, Doctors United!"

To paraphrase David Tennant’s incarnation of the Doctor, doesn’t that just sum a potent series up? You get through all of the presents, and at the bottom of the pile, there’s a Satsuma. In the case of Destiny of the Doctor, the aforementioned spherical orange fruit mentioned in The Christmas Invasion symbolises a decent yet ultimately underwhelming conclusion to a franchise of audio adventures which could have resulted in so much more with the correct denouement. There’ve been weaker instalments than The Time Machine, but boy, have there been stronger chapters in the saga by a considerable distance.

This isn’t a release that’s for want of an accomplished narrator, however. Quite why Jenna Coleman’s on-screen companion Clara hasn’t been included in proceedings this time around is beyond this reviewer, for the standalone assistant Amy Watson comes off as little more than a stand-in here. If anything, Watson seems to have been named as such primarily on the basis of the literary implications of her surname, which naturally serves as the source for more than one gag based around the Great Detective himself. All the same, Coleman’s dictation is constantly engaging and efficiently brings across the rapid, blockbuster-esque pace of the narrative, even in spite of its negating to include the Impossible Girl at the Doctor’s side for the ride.

Joining the piece’s leading lady are Nicholas Briggs and Michael Cochrane, the former portraying the drama’s antagonists, the Creevix, and the latter taking on the role of Doctor Chivers. It took some time for this reviewer to discern to which alien race from the revived series of Who Briggs’ Creevix bore an uncanny resemblance, but in the end, The Power of Three’s Shakri commander appears to have had a significant influence. This familiar vocal adaptation certainly doesn’t work in the piece’s favour in terms of innovation, and that Cochrane’s performance echoes past whimsical professors aplenty isn’t beneficial in the long run either. Perhaps the series’ producers had scarce choice for vocal contributors to this final instalment- either way; it’s a crying tragedy that their selections pale so immensely in comparison to their predecessors on the run.

As the Destiny run has developed over the course of 2013, it became evermore apparent that its resolution of the ongoing arc of the Eleventh Doctor’s visits to his past selves would be paramount to the series’ success in hindsight. The approach which writer Matt Fitton takes in creating both a standalone narrative and a satisfying conclusion for long-term fans is admirable; although overall the resolution in question feels rather rushed and haphazard. Partly, that’s due to the threat of the tale hardly being dangerous enough to warrant such a dangerous timeline-crossing excursion for the incumbent incarnation. Moreso, though, this plot arc connection is only re-established in the drama’s closing moments and is dealt with just as swiftly as the Eleventh’s cameos came and went in previous chapters.

In the scheme of Doctor Who’s 50th Anniversary, it’s fair to argue that a great degree of threat is required so as to have a grand celebratory impact on the viewer, or in this case the listener. The Day of the Doctor has an evil, apparently lost incarnation of everyone’s favourite Time Lord and The Light at the End resumes the seemingly undying threat of the Master, yet The Time Machine’s antagonist is neither iconic nor particularly original. The Five Doctors’ Borusa may not have gone down in the history books, but at least that anniversary special had enough in the way of returning companions and foes to compensate. Devoid of classic adversaries or allies beyond a few references and throwbacks, this is a member of the 50th ensemble which is remarkably hollow when judged alongside its ambitious cohorts. AudioGo’s Destiny range hasn’t lacked ambition in the past, so this sudden subversion of followers’ expectations is a bitter shock, an inadvertent betrayal of our hopes for what could have been a truly noteworthy outing.

This is a disheartening end, then, to a range of audio dramas which showed so much promise throughout its run. Though there were most certainly sore notes, Vengeance of the Stones and Enemy Aliens among them, Destiny of the Doctor has had its fair share of highlights, Babblesphere and Death’s Deal the most noteworthy by far. The Time Machine lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, and while as a finale it’s a worthy listen for series veterans, as a standalone instalment of Doctor Who it stumbles and veers close to falling flat on its face. Coleman’s narration is superb, yet her supporting stars are steeped in the framework of what’s come before when it comes to their character performances, and Matt Fitton’s script struggles under the weight of the series’ convoluted plot arcs.

Big Finish and AudioGo’s first major collaboration has been something of a mixed bag, but for those fans still craving further 50th Anniversary homages and stories, the overall experience of hearing Destiny of the Doctor in full is accomplished enough to warrant an investment. Hunters of Earth kicks proceedings off with a bang, and the momentum of the overarching storyline rarely lapses from that point onwards. Each narrator does a fine job of representing their respective era of Doctor Who, as do each of the eleven intricate scripts. Just be warned, though, that its finale is undoubtedly the Satsuma of the pile.