NEXT
SEPTEMBER 2006 - DECEMBER
2006
1. INNOCENCE
2. PURITY
3. CORRUPTION
4. GUILT
For me, and doubtless for many others, Davros is and has always been the
quintessential Doctor Who baddie. Everybody loves to hate the
Master, of course, but for the most part the Doctor’s rival Time Lord has
always been swathed in style and elegance; one might even say that he’s a
rather romantic portrait of a villain. Davros, on the other hand, is an
outright monster. Gruesome to the eye, Davros has always managed to be
even uglier on the inside than he is on the out.
On television, no explanation was ever given for Davros’s physical
condition. In Terry Nation’s Genesis of the Daleks, the Kaleds were
portrayed as a Nazi-like race that valued purity and good health above all
else; yet, paradoxically, their supreme commander was possibly the most
physically inept creature on their whole planet. As such it followed that
Davros had not been born that way – he was wounded, as opposed to
genetically corrupted – and so ever since 1975 generations of Doctor
Who fans have wondered and even dared to imagine what might have
caused Davros to appear as he did. Such conjecture then begged the
question, ‘Was Davros insane prior to his accident, or was his madness
caused by it?’ but now, at last, we need speculate no longer. Big Finish’s
staggeringly superb mini-series I, Davros answers every question
that I think has ever been raised about Davros, and raises quite a few
fresh ones into the bargain.
The story that is told across these plays is monumental on both a global
and a personal scale, but both the quality of the scripts and the
performances of the cast are more than equal to such weight. Indeed, the
whole production reeks of the highest quality, right from Steve Foxon’s
evocative title jingle and score all the way through to Stuart Manning’s
distinctive - and frankly downright stunning - propaganda-inspired cover
artwork.
Innocence
I think it’s fair to say that I expected the least from the mini-series’
opening instalment, “Innocence”, but Gary Hopkins’ script really
surprised me. Apart from the title being either gross irony or a total
misnomer, the whole play is saturated with brilliance. Clearly inspired by
the BBC television series I, Claudius, the characters of this story
are quite easily as iconic as their Roman counterparts, not to mention
utterly engrossing to boot.
“Nothing dies of old age on Skaro.”
Take Davros’s mother, Calcula. What a simple and strikingly effective use
of onomatopoeia - the character’s name tells you absolutely everything you
need to know about her before she has even spoken. And Carolyn Jones (from
the eighth Doctor play The Last, also penned by Hopkins) absolutely
owns the part; it would have been an easy thing for an actress to
push such a character into the realms of pastiche, but to her credit Jones
walks the line of melodrama utterly soberly here. Davros’s (purported)
father, Colonel Nasgard, is almost as impressive. Doctor Who
veteran Richard Franklin, better known to listeners as UNIT captain Mike
Yates, imbues the grizzled old warhorse with that magnificent sense of
blinkered loyalty and inflexible duty that soldiers in fiction so often
have, duly tempered by the occasional hint that there is far to him than
meets the eye.
“I find it fascinating that a living creature would subject itself to such
dangerous experimentation, knowing that it would die…”
But
the real triumph of “Innocence” is the young Davros himself, played
here by Rory Jenkins of The Idiot’s Lantern fame. Part of me
dreaded (and to be honest, expected) a whiter-than-white Jake Lloyd
portrayal, but I, Davros is far cleverer and much more subtle
than that. Whilst the Davros of “Innocence” may be light years away
from his ultimate psychosis, the young man that we meet in this play is
every bit as single-minded and as ruthless as the reality-devouring despot
that Davros is destined to become. One of the final scenes of the play,
where Davros experiments on his treacherous tutor Magrantine, is utterly
chilling and is perhaps the most explicit manifestation of the malevolence
lurking within the boy, even this early. But even that horrific scene
pales when compared to the one that follows, where Davros offers his
sister some rare words of comfort following a bereavement that she has
suffered; his sole intention being to get hold of her friend’s cadaver to
use in his radiation experiments.
And second only to the engrossing characters and the politically-charged
plotline is the level of detail that Hopkins injects into the piece. In
true prequel style, “Innocence” ties up a whole multitude of loose
ends and potential continuity blunders, ranging from fleeting references
to the Dals (an extinct Skarosian race, it seems) and Drammakin Lake (the
future Lake of Mutations) to the intricacies of Kaled military protocol
and the progression of weaponry used in the war.
Purity
The second instalment of I, Davros comes from the quills of James
Parsons and Andrew Stirling-Brown - the duo answerable for one of my
favourite seventh Doctor audio plays to date, Live 34.
In Joseph Lidster’s ‘making of’ documentary, Gary Russell remarks that
this is the one story in the I, Davros quadrilogy where the writers
were given reasonably wide discretion, and I think that this relative
autonomy clearly shows in the finished play. In “Innocence”, Davros
was painted as something of a golden boy; a prodigy, even. Here, however,
just a decade or so later, Davros is a nonentity stuck in a thankless job
testing feeble weaponry. Parsons and Stirling-Brown paint a fascinating
and unexpected picture, juxtaposing Davros’s mediocrity with his
unparalleled ambition – ambition that forces him to accept a suicide
mission offered to him by the Kaled Supremo; a suicide mission that, if he
could somehow survive it, would see him finally make it into the
scientific core.
As
much of this play focuses on Davros’s intelligence gathering mission into
Thal territory, it is naturally much more vigorous and fast-moving than
even the ensuing two plays are. But even so, Parsons and Stirling-Brown
develop Davros’s character further than even Lance Parkin or Scott Alan
Woodard would later do. I say this because it is in this play that
Davros’s life changes; in this play that his destiny is set in stone.
Terry Molloy’s performance as the thirty year-old Davros is so very good,
so very controlled, that when it comes to his all-important
epiphany following his encounter with Magrantine, you can almost sees
those cogs in his brilliant mind turning. The conceit that it was only
Magrantine’s hatred of Davros that kept him alive for so long as a muto -
a “tattered, crippled relic of the war” - and that in turn it is Davros’s
discovery of this truth that sets him on the path towards creating the
Daleks is absolutely inspired.
“You kept me alive. Revenge is a powerful motivator… I only hope that one
day you find out what it’s like to live like this. And I hope it brings
you as much pain as it has me.”
Meanwhile, back in Kaled territory, the incestuous drama of “Innocence” is
carried forward, this time with Davros’s sister, Yarvell (Lizzie Hopley)
in the thick of things. Her betrayal of Davros and resultant death at the
hands of her mother is beautifully handled; it’s so very Rome.
For me though, the final scene of the play is by far the most arresting.
Early on in the story, Yarvell is lecturing Davros about how once the
Kaleds and the Thals lived in peace, and in so doing she refers him to a
recently discovered painting of a Kaled and a Thal embracing. Of course,
she had no idea what seeds she was sowing in her unhinged brother’s mind.
Rather than embracing, the final scene of “Purity” sees Davros splicing
together Kaled and Thal DNA, and then mixing the same with the DNA of the
deadly Varga plant.
Above: He, Davros.
Terry Molloy in the Davros Connections DVD documentary
Furthermore, as was the case with “Innocence”, “Purity” is satiated with
enough detail to keep even the most fervent fanwank enthusiasts fuelled
for months. As I’ve already mentioned, the Varga plants from The
Daleks’ Master Plan have a major part to play here; we learn more of
the Dals and the other extinct races of Skaro; and the Kaled political
scene is mapped out fully, the Supremo and his Council of Twelve
practically regulars by this play’s climax.
“Purity” is thus the surprising standout of the whole series. You may not
hear the details of Davros’s accident or see him create the first Dalek
here, but for the whole play you get to hear Molloy breathe life into a
pre-accident Davros and take him on a good old-fashioned adventure; an
adventure that would shape the fate of Skaro and, in time, the whole of
creation.
Corruption
Despite only being the penultimate story in the mini-series, “Corruption”
is irrefutably ‘the big one’. This is where it all goes to hell. This is
Davros’s Revenge of the Sith. And as such, it is entirely fitting
that Lance Parkin - the writer that offered us a tantalising glimpse into
Davros’s past back in his 2003 play Davros - was given conduct of
this one.
If you’re already familiar with Davros, then there will be aspects
of this chapter that you will already be au fait with, but Parkin
very skilfully weaves these into the larger narrative and even expands
upon them in all manner of fascinating ways. As such, the ‘cut and paste’
scenes are kept to a minimum, the writer focusing on the hows and whys
here as opposed to the already-heard big bangs.
Katarina Olsson’s Shan is given a significant role here, her bizarre
relationship with Davros being fleshed out delightfully. In Davros,
Parkin toyed with his audience a little on the matter, clearly trying to
lead us into thinking that Davros had romantic feelings for this woman,
but here he pulls no such stunts. Yes, Davros loves Shan’s
Dalek-envisioning mind, but that is all that he will concede.
Indeed, here Davros is depicted as actively riling against Calcula’s
cupid, but even so I think that there is a definite undercurrent here that
Davros is apparently unable to acknowledge, and it is this that makes his
betrayal of Shan and her lover Valron all the more difficult to swallow.
We might know that it is coming, but it still smarts.
“Look at her. She’s like a butterfly emerged from its chrysalis.
Beautiful.”
“Corruption”
is also Carolyn Jones’ finest hour as Lady Calcula. In this story, we see
Davros’s mother stripped right back to her core, and learn that ultimately
the only thing that matters to her – more than politics, more than
anything – is her son. I think it’s desperately sad that Calcula
ultimately sacrifices her life with a view to exposing the Supremo’s
duplicity, yet her beloved son couldn’t care less about such things. He’s
too fascinated by what the radiation chamber that killed her is doing to
her body, and too interested in how he can blackmail the Supremo for his
own sinister ends. For his part, John Stahl is absolutely terrific as the
Kaled Supremo, particularly in this play and the next. Stahl’s voice was
made for audio; it’s so distinctive, so redolent. So ideal for this part.
“Mother. You are becoming what we will all become. But just a little too
early. Skaro isn’t ready for you yet. The universe isn’t ready for you.
You are the first. We will survive. We will grow stronger…”
Furthermore, though it’s fair to say that “Corruption” is a relatively
slow moving character piece for the most part (albeit with one hell of a
bang at the end), it’s not without its moments of terror. There are some
truly ghastly scenes in this play that are also rather disturbing on a
psychological level – Davros experimenting on expectant mothers with a
view to corrupting their pregnancies and inducing mutation is a case in
point. Very nasty.
Parkin also illustrates the progression (and at times, attrition) of the
Kaled war machine very well. I like how the decision was taken to not
immediately go into “Innocence” with the Kaleds and the Thals in the
middle of a nuclear war; it makes their plight all the more excruciating
to see their weapons of war develop in great quantum leaps as Davros’s
life progresses. His demonstration of his ‘thunder bolt’ weapon here is
charged with a sense of crippling inexorableness.
“I have been given clarity. I see the world as it truly is;
not filtered through the limits of flesh.”
However, above all else “Corruption” will be talked about for its closing
scenes. It’s not so much the explosion that cripples Davros that’s so
noteworthy (though it is undeniably thrilling to finally hear it happen),
it’s its immediate aftermath. Davros almost seems pleased with his
physical state because finally he’s been set apart from the crowd. Finally
he is unique. Finally he has clarity.
“And I know now, for the sake of my people, I must always feel like this.
Never knowing any limits. ”
“Corruption” is the one chapter of the mini-series that we have all been
clamouring to hear. And, unlike certain stories in the past that have been
overshadowed by the hype and the weight of expectation, “Corruption” is an
absolute triumph; a morbid, masochistic joy.
Guilt
When the mechanical Darth Vader uttered his first words in Revenge of
the Sith - “Where is Padmé? Is she safe? Is she alright?” -, a lot of
Star Wars fans were left hungering for more. Rather than end the
Star Wars prequel trilogy at the apex of Anakin Skywalker’s
catastrophic fall from grace, they wanted to see the insuperable Vader of
the old movies hunt down and wipe out all the surviving Jedi. With
“Guilt”, conversely, Big Finish ensure that Davros’s story omits nothing.
Having become the monstrosity that the Doctor would first meet in
Genesis of the Daleks by the end of “Corruption”, Scott Alan Woodard
goes on to realise what is arguably the most appealing chapter of the
I, Davros saga.
“Guilt”,
as the title suggests, is about aftermath; about consequences. The series’
eponymous villain is on the cusp of becoming the megalomaniac that we
would meet in Genesis of the Daleks, just a couple of subjective
years later, but the links to his past are still alive. Woodard
encapsulates this crossroads within a wonderful scene in which Davros
listens to an old Kaled victory march, reminiscing about how his sister
used to love the piece, only moments after informing the public of the
“accident” that killed the Council of Twelve, leaving him effectively in
power – and in a position to take away their children. Indeed, some of
this play’s most harrowing scenes see the Kaled children being forcibly
taken from their families in accordance with Davros’s “mandatory child
protection programme”. Jennifer Croxton’s Tech-Ops Ludella, a former
associate of the Supremo, perhaps illustrates this best as she
remonstrates with Davros over the fate of her “little Kendo”, who by the
time she is reunited with him is well on his way to becoming a Dalek
mutant, and a murderous one at that.
However, of especial interest to Doctor Who fans will be Davros’s
earliest dealings with a certain lieutenant by the name of Nyder, who
would aid and abet his stealthy ascension from chief scientist of the
Scientific Elite to supreme commander of the Kaleds and, more importantly,
his creation of the universe’s first Dalek.
I was astonished by just how convincingly Peter Miles was able to recreate
Nyder here, given that more than thirty years had passed between his
initial portrayal of Nyder and this reprise. As Gary Russell points out in
the documentary that accompanies “Guilt”, Miles’ voice has not aged a day.
It’s also a voice that works very well on audio in any event; it’s so
distinctive, so unsettling. Even with the esteem that I have for Miles’
performance in Genesis of the Daleks, I feel that his character is
even more effective here – divorced from the visuals, Nyder becomes even
more frightening.
“At the conclusion of the book of predictions, it states and I quote ‘Talu
bek Kalid ulrik ta Dalek’. It is in the extinct tongue of the Dal. Roughly
translated it means ‘And on that day, men will become as gods’.”
It will not surprise many that I, Davros culminates in Davros and
Nyder placing their first successful Dalek mutant into a “mark one travel
machine”, though I’m sure that many will not have expected the mutant in
question to be of Thal descent. That’s right – the first Dalek was created
from a mutated Thal (a Thal quite appropriately voiced by none other than
Nicholas Briggs). It’s a tremendously satisfying cut-off point.
Above: The first Dalek,
gloriously animated by Daniel Reed and Rob Semenoff
The only trouble is that it is a cut-off point; I, Davros
just stops dead. Now I wouldn’t have been bothered by this were the four
plays not bookended with scenes featuring an older Davros being ‘tried’ by
his Daleks, which I had imagined would be explained (and, ideally,
cleverly tied in with these ‘flashbacks’) at the end of “Guilt”. Still,
it’s but a small gripe, and one that would in time be remedied to some
degree by the DVD box set exclusive play The Davros Mission,
released a year or so later.
The Davros Mission
Produced for exclusive release as part of 2|entertain’s Davros
Collection DVD box set, this unique Big Finish audio drama is far less
remarkable than the I, Davros mini-series that it follows, but it’s
an agreeable eighty minutes of audio drama all the same.
The Davros Mission
ties in with I, Davros in that it picks up Davros’s story
immediately after Revelation of the Daleks – as the story begins,
he’s just being fitted with a mechanical hand and informed by the Daleks
that he’s being taken for trial on Skaro. Whether this is the ‘trial’
cryptically referred to in the I, Davros bookends is anybody’s
guess, though the fact that Davros was evidently being ‘tried out’ for
something in I, Davros certainly suggests otherwise. Even so, I
like to think that Davros’s musings about his past took place during this
play; this would certainly fit very well with the story that Nicholas
Briggs is trying to tell here.
“Turns out you’re one of them Davros loving weirdoes after all, dunnit?
What did you wanna do? Convince him he has a good side or something!”
Much like I, Davros, Briggs’ story examines Davros and his
neurosis, the main difference being that The Davros Mission
examines these with the benefit of hindsight. Briggs utilises the old
device of a third party – in this case, the stealthy Thal Lareen – trying
to convince Davros that he has a good side and can contribute in a
positive way to the universe.
Miranda Raison, who will be familiar to Doctor Who fans thanks to
her lovely portrayal of Tallulah in the 2007 Evolution of the Daleks
two-parter on television, plays off Terry Molloy very well indeed here.
Lareen and Davros’s scenes together are electric, particularly towards the
story’s end where the Daleks have removed Davros from his chariot and
strung him up on the wall because of his raving insistence that there is
an ‘invisible’ Thal intruder on board their ship.
Above: Daniel Reed and Rob
Semenoff's CG Dalek presides over Davros' trial
Sean Connolly, who appeared in I, Davros as Councillor Quested, is
also tremendously entertaining here as Gus, an engine-grease sucking,
humanoid clam that is enslaved to the Daleks. Together with his cohort Raz
(Gregg Newton), Connolly injects this dark and brooding piece with some
much-needed comic relief.
On the downside, this play does feel padded at times, but the explosive
payoff on Skaro makes it well worth enduring the play’s duller moments.
Not only do we get to hear the infamous Trial of Davros, but we get to see
him take his first steps towards becoming the Emperor of the Daleks that
we would eventually see in Remembrance of the Daleks on television.
All told, I couldn’t countenance purchasing The Davros Collection
on the strength of this play alone if you already own all of the other
stories included in the box set. However, given that you can now pick it
up for as little as £39.99 now on the Big Finish website, even if your
collection is only missing one or two of these stories, then it may still
be cost-effective to shell out. If you haven’t purchased any of the Big
Finish Davros stories or the classic series’ Davros television serials,
then you certainly have one hell of a bargain waiting for you and The
Davros Mission is just the icing on the cake.
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