Other Doctor Lives: Dr. No: The Radio Play (2008)

Real talk? This is first James Bond story I’ve actually experienced. I’ve seen clips of various movies over the years, and I’ve seen plenty of satires, but I’ve never watched one of the films from beginning to end. This, a radio play adaptation of the Ian Fleming novel which became the first Bond film in 1962, probably isn’t the ideal way to start. If it weren’t for Peter Capaldi playing a small role, I wouldn’t have listened to it, and having now finished it, I can definitely say it hasn’t awakened any desire to seek out any “classic” Bond films.

James Bond is sent to Jamaica to investigate the disappearance of an MI-6 agent. With the aid of Quarrel, a local and an old friend of Bond’s, he digs into the case and dodges assassination attempts as he gets too close. The mission leads Bond and Quarrel to an island rumored to be guarded by a “dragon,” where the mysterious Dr. No conducts his nefarious machinations.

The spy stuff is entertaining, although it’s a bit hamstrung here by the constraints of the radio medium, which forces people to narrate the dramatic things they’re experiencing out loud. Along the lines of, “Wait, he’s collapsed! He’s foaming at the mouth! He’s-- no, no, no, he’s taken a cyanide capsule!” It gets the job done, and I’ve listened to enough Doctor Who audio dramas to roll with it, but it’s definitely less flashy than cinema.

Besides the fun investigating and derring-do, however, the story doesn’t have a whole lot to recommend it. It’s weighed down by all sorts of mid-century racism, featuring some lazy portrayals of minor Jamaican characters and way too much “inscrutable Chinese” fearmongering. And if the character of Dr. No himself wasn’t written offensively enough, we also have him played by David Suchet (oh, Poirot, what were you thinking?) It’s not even the everyday type of aggravating problematic casting of white actors to voice characters of color, a la Kubo and the Two Strings, wherein the actors at least voice the characters as characters, not as walking stereotypes. This hoary performance is much more overt verbal yellowface, and it’s more than enough to ruin any enjoyment I might have otherwise had from the piece.

Bond is played by Toby Stephens, who played Rochester in a miniseries of Jane Eyre a handful of years ago. Clarke Peters (Freamon from The Wire) appears as Quarrel, and the radio play also features Samuel West, who I’ll always remember as the grown-up Caspian in the ancient Masterpiece version of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Everyone in the cast besides Suchet acquits themselves well enough, but again, that can’t overcome the gross stuff going on with Dr. No.

This project is also awfully scant on the Other Doctor Lives front, as Peter Capaldi only appears in one scene near the start of the radio play. On the plus side, this does mean he’s in and out before the racist junk gets underway. Capaldi plays the MI-6 armorer who kits out Bond before his mission. He’s not in the story for more than a couple minutes and his appearance is almost entirely practical, but I appreciate that there’s still a bit of characterization going on here. The armorer is brusque and bluntly deadpan. He seems to speak the language of firearms and has little interest in anything else. Hi, armorer! So long, armorer!

Accent Watch

Scottish.

Recommend?

In General – I can’t, too gross for me. As someone who isn’t a Bond fan, I can’t speak to how well this compares to the films. I just know I wouldn’t encourage anyone to listen to it.

Peter Capaldi – Naw. His part is so small, and per the above, this is definitely a project you can do without.

Warnings

Racist depictions, violence, sexual content, thematic elements, and a white actor playing an Asian character.

Top Five Roles: Benedict Cumberbatch

Another two-post day.  I am not good at remembering to update while I'm on vacation.

Why not?  It’s been a while since I’ve done a Top Five Roles post, and trendy fandom favorite or not, Benedict Cumberbatch is just crazy talented.  Even as I start this write-up, it occurs to me that I’ve never seen Cumberbatch doing Shakespeare and it might be wiser to hold off until after 1) Hamlet via National Theatre Live and 2) the BBC’s production of the Henry VI plays and Richard III, and that’s before you consider his entrance to the Avengers universe next year with Doctor Strange.  The point is, singling out five performances from Cumberbatch is only going to get harder, so I might do it while the getting’s good.

Vincent van Gogh, Van Gogh:  Painted with Words

Just a really lovely performance.  I love Vincent’s passion, his delight and ecstasy, and I feel for his despair.  Van Gogh was such a raw, beating-heart sort of artist – his joy and his despondency are equal and opposite forces in his life/work – that it’s hugely important to capture both, and Cumberbatch does it magnificently.

Captain Martin Crieff, Cabin Pressure

It’s too bad that this is the only explicitly-comedic character to make the list, because Cumberbatch does humor so well.  Martin, the easily agitated, wildly insecure, pathologically tight-wound pilot of the ragtag MJN Air, is straight-up hysterical.  He’s commits 100% to the most absurd of situations – too many to pick an all-out favorite, but “I don’t care how hypothetical it is, I’m not flying with a live otter in the flight deck!” is a darn good one.

Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock

Duh.  Let’s see, there are the rapid-fire deduction monologues that go a zillion miles an hour and yet are delivered in such a way that you actually understand the connections he’s made.  There’s his audacious indifference towards any and all social niceties.  There are the moments when the aloof armor cracks and we see how much he really needs people, or at least John.  Throw in a little maybe-aceness, and it’s a no-brainer.

The Creature, Frankenstein

Honest-to-goodness mesmerizing.  From his artless, shambling clumsiness to the childlike playfulness he maintains even in the darkest moments, this is such a fascinating performance.  I can’t tell you how much I love the scene in which the Creature confronts Frankenstein about creating and subsequently abandoning him.  Wow.

Christopher Tietjens, Parade’s End

Oh, good gracious, Christopher Tietjens.  A gift of a character and a master class in acting.  The combination between extremely soulful/sensitive and almost unshakably repressed lead to a man at war within himself.  His overwhelming emotions are always painfully evident, bubbling just under the mask he can’t bear to lift.  I mean… good gracious. 

Relationship Spotlight: Douglas Richardson & Martin Crieff (Cabin Pressure)

Pound for pound, Cabin Pressure might be the most engaging scripted radio program I’ve ever listened to – not that I’ve listened to tons of scripted radio programs, but still.  The characters are fantastic, the situational comedy is absurd, and the voice-acting is topnotch.  Honestly, it’s so good that I don’t have a single quibbling wish that it could be a live-action show instead.  It’s spectacular just the way it is.  I don’t need to see Benedict Cumberbatch or Roger Allam, for example, to count Martin and Douglas’s relationship among the best odd-couple duos around.

Their respective situations and personalities create a perfect storm for humor.  Martin, the captain, is eternally, insecurely nervous but just-shy-of-frantic to prove his mettle.  He’s fastidiously by-the-book, prone to losing his head in a panic, and desperate to be seen as a capable pilot and figure of authority.  Meanwhile, first officer Douglas is a seasoned (read:  jaded) veteran of the skies who’s a natural voice of reason and can pilot with ease.  He’s been flying long enough that he’s not overly invested in the rules, and he remains unflappable under almost any circumstance.  Nearly everyone who encounters Martin and Douglas automatically assumes Douglas is the captain and sometimes even argues the point with them, which of course delights Douglas and infuriates Martin.

So, we have an agitated stickler and a laidback rule-breaker, with the latter allegedly subservient to the former.  This leads to all manner of power struggles, with Douglas pulling countless stunts just to mess with Martin and watch him squirm, while Martin flails in his efforts to keep Douglas contained.  Douglas naturally responds by being uncontainable, and the more Martin pushes him, the more he pushes back – in one instance, he introduces Martin over the intercom as the French “Captain Martin du Creff,” forcing Martin to keep up the pretense in all his cabin addresses.

But they’re more than just two diametrically-opposed pilots trapped in the same cockpit.  They’re also friends, in a fashion, and their shared penchant for silly travel games helps the hours to pass by on long boring flights.  Whether they’re going as long as they can using words of only one syllable, cramming a cabin address with Hitchcock references, or wondering if they could fit 100 otters on the plane, they keep one another sharp and entertained.  Though they often complain about each other, I doubt either would have nearly as much fun with any other co-pilot. 

And despite the way they frequently antagonize each other (especially Douglas to Martin,) they usually come through for one another when it really counts.  For all of Douglas’s ribbing, he also gives Martin valuable advice that helps him to become a more self-assured captain; in these moments, he’s almost like a father figure to Martin.  No matter how hopelessly ridiculous a conundrum is, Martin has faith that Douglas will cook up a plan to fix it.  And let’s face it, he usually does.  We’re talking about a man who can figure out how to fake a flight to Timbuktu or determine which one in a group of identical geese swallowed one of Martin’s possessions (and how exactly did a pair of pilots get themselves into that last predicament?  Don’t ask – just listen to it and marvel at the glorious insanity.)  For Martin’s part, he sometimes manages to come through for Douglas as well.  He’s not often in as strong a position to do so, but whenever he can, he makes it count.  Both are excellent characters in their own right, but they’re indisputably so much better together.

Mansfield Park (2004)

 

Though I’ve found several adaptations of Mansfield Park, I’ve yet to find one that really manages to capture the book.  The 1983 BBC miniseries is rather staid, the 1999 film takes so many liberties it’s nearly a different story, and the 2007 TV film doesn’t seem to know what it is.  This radio series may not be a definitive adaptation, but it comes closer than the others I’ve seen.

 

Almost universally considered the least of Jane Austen’s novels, Mansfield Park tells the story of Fanny Price, a thoughtful but painfully shy girl brought up among wealthy relations.  As she comes of age, she’s forever reminded of the difference between her and her cousins.  However, the twists, turns, and romantic entanglements of the book show the strength of Fanny’s character, especially in comparison to many of her spoiled, self-centered relatives.

 

Fanny herself is the chief difficulty in any adaptation.  Because she’s timid, it’s easy to call her weak.  Because she observes, it’s easy to call her passive.  Because she’s moral, it’s easy to call her priggish.  It’s hard to dramatize her in an interesting way, and it’s especially hard to depict the inner strength of this quiet girl.  This series, though, has a pretty splendid Fanny in Felicity Jones (Catherine Morland from Northanger Abbey, and she appeared in “The Unicorn and the Wasp” from series 4 of Who.)  She’s demure without being lifeless and reserved without being boring.  She plays the role with a gentle warmth that comes earnestly through the airwaves.  What’s more, this adaptation is able to show her having fun and enjoying herself while remaining true to the generally steady nature of her character.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch likewise makes a good Edmund Bertram, Fanny’s cousin and aspiring clergyman.  Rather than coming across like a stick in the mud opposing his more freewheeling siblings, he reads as upright and principled.  There’s a genuineness to his performance, and you can see why Fanny would be drawn to him.

 

There are a ton of familiar British actors in this series.  David Tennant plays Fanny’s cousin Tom, James Callis (a.k.a. Gaius Baltar) is the caddish Henry Crawford, Julia McKenzie brings all the necessary ugliness to Aunt Norris (for the Potterheads out there, this character inspired the name of Mr. Filch’s cat,) Toby Jones (the Dream Lord from series 5 of Who) is the foolish Mr. Rushworth, and Amanda Root (who was a stunning Anne Elliot in the film version of Persuasion) narrates the series as Jane Austen.

 

At only two-and-a-half hours, this 10-part series (just 15 minutes per episode!) does skim through some of the big plot points.  The whole bit with the chain is pretty rushed, and when things are going wrong in the final act, it really feels like everything is happening at once.  If someone unfamiliar with the book was listening, I’m not sure if they’d be able to follow everything – still, even without any visuals, they’d probably have a better chance than with the 2007 Billie Piper version.  Seriously, whoever greenlit that adaptation and decided they could do Mansfield Park in 90 minutes was way out of their depth.

 

Warnings

 

Some Regency-era impropriety – nothing of note.

Neverwhere (2013)

 

Not the awesomely inventive, mid-90s-BBC-budget miniseries, mind you.  Same story, different medium.  This is Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere in radio-play form.  (Side note:  I get the sense that Gaiman is forever chasing a perfect version of Neverwhere.  It’s also been published as a novel and a comic.)  I find that both incarnations are excellent in their own ways.  It’s like with Doctors – Two and Nine, for instance, are massively different but equally great.  Bet you didn’t think I could come up with an analogy that’s even nerdier than the thing I’m actually talking about, did you?

 

Split into six parts, this radio drama is actually half an hour longer than the original miniseries.  Each episode covers about the same ground as its television counterpart, but first episode is twice as long; apparently, set-up takes more time when you can’t see anything.  I was impressed with how well it comes off on radio.  There are a few clunky lines where one character needlessly describes what something looks like, but they manage to avoid it for the most part.

 

It’s interesting, the way your imagination fills in any visual gaps.  There’s some description, like I said, foley art is used well, and occasional sound effects on the voices give added hints, but really, that’s it.  Just a light framework for the world of London Below, and my mind fleshes out the rest.  (Amusingly enough, I envision the on-the-cheap sets and costumes of the miniseries.  Wonder if that’s what Gaiman had in mind!)  I’m not sure, though, if it’d be so easy for someone who hasn’t seen the TV version; I might have to find myself a guinea pig.

 

Since radio nicely minimizes the expense of creating an urban fantasy world, terrifying hallucinations, and a hulking beast, the whole production feels a lot sleeker than the original.  The big names don’t hurt, either.  James McAvoy and Natalie Dormer (Margaery Tyrell on Game of Thrones, and a repeat visitor to Elementary) lend their voices to Richard and Door, and both are excellent.  McAvoy’s Richard is an overwhelmed but good-hearted everyman, and Dormer brings an otherworldly quality to Door, along with an inner strength.

 

I’m not terribly familiar with David Harewood, who plays the Marquis de Carabas, and he doesn’t make a huge impression on me.  In his defense, however, Paterson Joseph is just astounding in the miniseries and would be hard to match.  Sophie Okonedo (Hotel Rwanda, and she also played Liz Ten in series 5 of Doctor Who) is a fierce, dignified Hunter; her voice work here makes me wish I could see her performance onscreen.  Benedict Cumberbatch’s Islington couldn’t be more different from Peter Capaldi’s, and I think he tips his hand a bit early, but he’s very good as well.  No question that Islington isn’t of this world.  Anthony Stewart Head (Giles from Buffy, and he appeared in Who’s “School Reunion”) plays Mr. Croup with joyful menace.

 

And those are just the major players.  Also featured are Romola Garai (who starred in a miniseries of Emma a few years ago) and the great Christopher Lee.  For even more Whoniverse alumni, we have Bernard Cribbins (Donna Noble’s grandpa,) Lucy Cohu (Torchwood’s “Children of Earth” series,”) Yasmin Paige (Maria Jackson from The Sarah Jane Adventures,) and Paul Chequer (From Torchwood’s “Random Shoes.”)  Have I mentioned lately how much I love Britain?

Cabin Pressure (2008-2014)

bbc.co.uk

I’ve been into audiobooks for a while – it started with Whoniverse stuff, and I like listening to novels when I’m on walks – but radio plays are a fairly new development for me.  I’ve never been a big radio person in general, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever actually heard an American-broadcast radio play.  Until recently, the most I’d heard were a handful of Torchwood plays and the radio dramatization of the awesome Donmar Warehouse production of Othello.

 

Well, as I started getting more into Benedict Cumberbatch’s work, I finally listened to the radio version of Neverwhere, in which he and about a bazillion other fabulous British actors recreate the wonderful Neil Gaiman story.  I enjoyed it so much that, when I discovered that Cumberbatch has an affinity for BBC Radio productions, I decided to start tracking down some more of them.  I’m still not a radio person overall, but I’m now definitely a radio-play person.

 

The best program I’ve come across so far is easily Cabin Pressure, a radio sitcom that began before Sherlock made Cumberbatch a celebrity.  The premise – the exploits of a tiny, run-down charter plane business – is deceptively simple.  Excellent characters, spot-on performances, and sublime writing make the show one of the best comedies I’ve found recently, in any format.

 

MJN Air is a microscopic operation.  Carolyn (Stephanie Cole) is the long-suffering owner of GERTI, the company’s lone plane.  She’s proud, penny-pinching, and thoroughly unimpressed.  Martin (Cumberbatch) is MJN’s by-the-book captain.  His position is everything to him, despite his adequate piloting skills and inability to convince clients that he really is the captain.  Douglas (The Thick of It’s Roger Allam) is Martin’s jaded first officer.  Considerably older than his captain, he’s a former Air England pilot who makes a habit of chronic rule-breaking.  Finally, Carolyn’s adult son Arthur (John Finnemore, also the show’s writer) is MJN’s sunshiny steward.  What he lacks in competence and basic common sense, he makes up in unbridled enthusiasm.

 

Each episode, listeners are treated to a new helping of troublesome clients and aviation-related mishaps.  When it comes to MJN, there’s no such thing as smooth sailing (or the flying equivalent thereof.)  Whether it’s a snag at customs or a live cat trapped in the unheated cargo hold, this crew has an extraordinary talent for getting into messes.

 

The absurd scrapes are funny enough, but Cabin Pressure is all about the character interactions.  I love Douglas’s dry sarcasm, Carolyn’s incredulous scolding, Martin’s panicky indecision, and Arthur’s incurable optimism.  I love the way they all look out for each other when the chips are really down.  And most of all, I love the endless string of games they invent to endure the boredom of long flights.  My favorites include “Book Titles that Sound More Interesting with the Last Letter Knocked Off” (such as The Da Vinci Cod,) “Rhyming Journeys” (like “From York to Cork,”) and “The Traveling Lemon” (in which one has to find a lemon hidden somewhere in the cabin, unbeknownst to passengers.)  My only complaint is that the show will be ending soon (the last episode, “Zurich,” will air later this year;) it’s a winner all around.

 

Warnings

 

Just a little drinking (not by the pilots while in flight!) and a few imperiled animals (like the cat mentioned above.)

Come on Up to the House (2009)

 

Come on Up to the House is a fifteen-minute BBC radio play.  Like The First King of Mars, it’s performed by PC as a long monologue, despite indications that he’s speaking to someone.  The tone and subject matter, however, couldn’t be more different.

 

This play is part of a program that put on dramatized writings based on Tom Waits songs (since, once again, this is radio and has no visuals, Waits is pictured in lieu of PC.)  I’m not familiar with much of Tom Waits’s music, and apart from the brief clips played during the play, I’ve never heard “Come on Up to the House.”  Essentially, the story is a one-sided conversation in which a man confesses his fears, struggles, and heartaches to someone unspecified in the middle of the night.  We get hints of his personal tragedies, his herculean efforts to drag himself through the day, and his musings on the nature of grief.

 

Obviously, PC plays our unnamed man.  We get more of a sense of how he is rather than who he is.  He’s a very thoughtful man who really pays attention to words and their connotations – he mulls over his word choices with fastidious caution.  He’s been “getting by” and pretending to be all right for far too long, and he’s finally hit his breaking point.  There’s pain inside him that simply has to be given voice.

 

PC’s performance is very heartfelt, very affecting.  I’m reminded of his roles in Accused (that oppressive sense of being wrung out by grief) and The Field of Blood (that hurts-behind-the-eyes physical and spiritual exhaustion.)  As with those performances, the relative lack of emotion in his voice only serves to make the emotional content more poignant.  You get the sense that he may not have many tears left in him, but that hasn’t lightened his load at all.  The writing is beautifully sincere, and PC delivers it wonderfully.

 

I’ve always loved the interaction between stories and music.  I think it’s fascinating to listen to a song inspired by a movie or a book, I enjoy discovering poetic homages within lyrics, I appreciate how a well-chosen song can elevate a film or television scene, and here, I really like the way the emotional resonance of a song is transposed into a performed story.

 

Accent Watch

 

Scottish.

 

Recommend?

 

In General – I think I would.  It’s quite melancholy, but it’s written with such loveliness and grace.  Worth a listen, I’d say.

 

PC-wise – Yes.  PC has a great talent for these sorts of quietly-heartbroken characters.

 

Warnings

 

Nothing of note.

The First King of Mars: Series 2, Episode 5 – “The King’s Subjects” (2008)

 

I’m not quite sure what I think of the First King of Mars finale.  It doesn’t have as much of the rambly/panicked captain moments of humor that mark the series, so it doesn’t get as many laughs as previous installments.  It’s also very silly.  The mounting mystery and tension of the past few days get released in a fairly absurd way, one that makes no apologies for its ridiculousness.

 

As such, I guess I’m a bit disappointed.  This was goofy ridiculous, not crazed-slice-of-astronaut-life ridiculous.  Still, there’s good stuff to be had.  Some of the details of the resolution are great fun, and the captain, of course, remains the captain.  This was an excellent role for PC, a real scream. 

 

One final nitpick – would’ve been nice to hear the captain’s Mars planetary anthem one more time.  I got a real kick out of that.

 

Accent Watch

 

Scottish.

 

Recommend?

 

In General – Yep.  Quirky and nerdy and fun.  Definitely worth watching.

 

PC-wise – Yes.  I talked about voice-acting recently when I reviewed Haunted Hogmanay and Glendogie Bogey, and this radio performance is a comic tour de force without even a shred of a visual.  No other cast to speak of, either.  The first king of Mars built entirely from the writing, PC’s delivery, and the listeners’ imaginations.  Very well done.

 

Warnings

 

I realize I haven’t been adding to this at all, and I should’ve.  Not much, but still worth mentioning – mild sexual references in this series, along with a little bodily function humor.

The First King of Mars: Series 2, Episode 4 – “Take Me to Your Leader” (2008)

 

Mindful of spoilers as always, I won’t get too much into the major development introduced in yesterday’s episode.  I will say that the event itself seems benign; it’s the implications of it that are truly worrisome.  That seems fitting for this series.  After all, the captain has never shied away from the awesome or mundane aspects of space exploration.

 

Regardless, today’s adventure deals with this new development, and it’s troubling enough for the captain to revisit the idea of declaring himself king.  Naturally, this doesn’t bode terribly well for his sanity.  Pity – depending on how things shake out in the final episode (coming tomorrow!), he may not be in a position to spare any of his mental faculties.

 

But no, he’s definitely at least considering re-boarding the crazy train.  Already, he’s getting paranoid again, though it’s not about his crew this time.  More disconcertingly, it’s about a chimpanzee from the training facility back on Earth, the son of a chimp he inadvertently ran over.  While mission control investigates the problem at hand, the captain’s thoughts are off and racing about his history with the orphaned chimp and fretting over the possibility of reprisals.

 

Needless to say, this whole sequence is delightfully silly, and PC – bless him – commits entirely to it.  The captain’s hushed, slowly-mounting panic is terrific, and I love that he presents his blatantly-insane fears as a carefully-reasoned argument.

 

So, yeah – pretty much par for the course where our fearless leader is concerned.  Gotta feel sorry for the crew that has to take orders from him.