Of the original
batch of Unbound stories, Sympathy of the Devil was the only
one that I felt begged a sequel. The other five, with the possible
exception of Auld Mortality, each offered us a snapshot of a
radically different Doctor that might have been; a woman, a writer, a
monster, a ruthless rogue. Jonathan Clements’ play, however, presented us
with a Doctor quite similar to his counterpart in our universe; a Doctor
with tangible potential. Sympathy of the Devil’s emphasis was less
on the ‘new Doctor’ part of the series’ tagline, and more on the ‘new
dimension’, as Clements introduced us to a universe where Earth history
had gone radically awry in the absence of the Doctor during the turbulent
1970s and 1980s.
Having examined an alternative planet Earth and an alternative Master, the
obvious choice for a sequel was to look at an alternative Skaro an
alternative race of Daleks. The world of Sympathy of the Devil
had arisen as a result of the Doctor never having worked for UNIT, and
whilst Masters of War isn’t accompanied by its own enticing ‘what
if…?’ soundbite, one can infer that the Skaro depicted in it is one where
the Doctor would never be embroiled in the events of Genesis of the
Daleks and so Davros would not necessarily be exterminated by his
creations, but abandoned instead. It may not be quite that
straightforward, of course, as Skarosian history appears to have diverged
from that we know long before the Kaled / Thal war ever started, but as
basic starting point they don’t come much more tantalising
than this one.
In his notes accompanying the CD release, writer Eddie Robson talks about
how he wanted Masters of War to be an amalgamation of all the
different types of off-canon adventure, and with almost two and half hours
to play with (effectively double the running time of the first six
Unbound releases) he has an almighty stab at it. As I listened to this
play, I almost felt like I were getting two adventures to the price of
one, albeit adventures that had been dextrously woven together. The first
episode, whilst a sequel to the original Dalek story, is very much a riff
on it: the Doctor and Alistair arrive on Skaro to find the Thal City under
Dalek occupation, and resolve to help the Thals defeat their old enemies
once again.
Robson’s
tale has more pace and intrigue than Terry Nation’s seven-part
original Dalek serial, its first episode offering listeners a fascinating
look
at a Skaro that might have been. The Daleks that are now subjugating the
Thals are not the “renegades” that invaded the Earth, tried to conquer the
galaxy or decimated Vulcan, but a second generation who were bred to
be loyal to their creator; bred to have pity. As the narrative
progresses, it
becomes clear that the Daleks aren’t subjugating the Thals for their own
ends, but for the Thals’
own good! Having been abandoned by the creator,
who had become disenchanted with two flawed creations – one group so
pitiless that they abandoned him, the others so thin-skinned that they
were
of no real use to him – the “loyalist” Daleks developed their own, twisted
religion. Davros would be venerated, and his image used to spread the
Dalek word. Lesser species would not be conquered, but protected, and,
lamentably for the Thals, charity starts at home. Robson’s vision of Skaro
is therefore a world where the Daleks force the Thals to work, but only to
strengthen them. A world where the Black Dalek is not a creature of war,
but a proponent of propaganda. And the beauty of it is that the Daleks’
true colours aren’t immediately apparent – initially they seem to behave
exactly as their “renegade” counterparts might. It’s only as the Doctor
and Alistair start to dig deeper that the Daleks’ unprecedented traces of
grey
start to catch the light.
As the cliffhanger beckons, the Daleks have been overthrown, but Skaro
faces a threat from the stars as the Quatch – extra-dimensional masters of
war whom we learn orchestrated this universe’s Kaled / Thal war – return
to claim the planet, bringing with them their revered chief technician,
Davros, who is oblivious to the fact that his paymasters were responsible
for the war that crippled him. As a result the Doctor, Alistair and the
Thals form an uneasy alliance with Daleks to combat the extra-terrestrial
threat. Their plan is simple: infiltrate the Quatch fleet, get to Davros,
turn him against the aliens, and then pray that he has the means to stop
them.
Whereas Part 1 of the story catered to the Doctor’s strengths, Part 2 sees
Alistair come into his own. Whilst the Time Lord’s energies are spent
fervently trying to prevent the Daleks and the Thals committing brutal war
crimes, Alistair’s are focused on tactics and command. The old warhorse
orders Daleks and Thals about as if they were lowly UNIT grunts, assuming
the responsibilities for the life and death decisions which has companion
has shunned. Nicholas Courtney gives the performance of his life as from
the ashes of a discredited old scapegoat the Brigadier that we all know
and love rises, finally exorcising the ghosts of the forty-seven men that
he once lost to the Daleks back in his blood and thunder years.
The
threat from the Quatch is
well fleshed-out; the listener
really gets a sense of their
awesome power. Indeed,
these eponymous Masters
of War are what really lend
the production its ‘ultimate’
feel, as one discarded idea
from Terry Nation suddenly
gives rise to so many new
and exciting possibilities.
They also have great voices
for audio drama – it’s at the
opposing end of the spectrum
to the Daleks’, but is every bit
as excruciating. The Quatch’s
dependency on technology and trust in Davros might lead to a foreseeable
deus ex machina resolution, but this is easily forgivable in the
circumstances.
However, I was a little disappointed with Davros himself, whose peripheral
presence – whilst defining – seems to lack the substance of his earlier
Big Finish outings. Nevertheless, when he finally comes to the fore in the
second episode, Terry Molloy is as devastating as ever he was in the role,
and clearly relished sinking his teeth to a different rendering of the
character. This is a Davros who cares that he’s been crippled; a Davros
desperate for revenge. This is a Davros who seems to care more about his
Daleks being loyal to him than he does about their becoming the dominant
life form. It’s only a subtle difference, but just look what it did to the
universe.
Inevitably though, the real star is David Warner, whose controlled
charisma dominates every single scene that he’s in. An imperturbable force
in a universe that’s gone to hell, Warner’s Doctor is a paragon of all
that’s right and just. Again his unyielding standards are offset by some
deliciously dry humour, his caustic delivery of the allegory about the
Dalek who’s
able to change his bumps perfectly encapsulating both his charm and
candour. As in Sympathy for the Devil, his performance is perfectly
complemented by that of Nicholas Courtney, who by the end of the adventure
has really made up for lost time, and steeled himself to his next
challenge.
I sincerely hope that Masters of War isn’t the last that we hear
from David Warner’s Doctor. Nicholas Briggs has said that he doesn’t see
the point of just doing regular stories with other Doctors, and whilst I
agree wholeheartedly, no-one could reasonably argue that Masters of War
is a regular story. When it comes down to it, it doesn’t really matter how
“unbound” the Doctor is, provided that the universe he finds himself in is
nothing like our own. If there are such spellbinding stories to be told
about the alternative Master and the alternative Daleks, then what of the
alternative Cybermen? No-one stops at two...
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