The Piper's Lament - A Review

For the last five decades that 'Doctor Who' has been entertaining us, it has provided us with a host of memorable companions. Arguably one of the most popular of these has to be highlander Jamie McCrimmon, portrayed brilliantly by Frazer Hines. Jamie was a very loyal companion, and the relationship his character shared with Second Doctor, Patrick Troughton, is still one of the greatest partnerships in 'Doctor Who' history.
 

Of course, Jamie's final moments with the Doctor, echoed 40 years later when a similar fate befell Donna Noble, saw the many memories of his adventures in the TARDIS get erased without remorse. Although Hines would return several times to 'Doctor Who' in future years, these appearances would always be set within the time-frame of his travels with the Second Doctor (erm, more or less...see SEASON 6B). We were never given a chance to discover what happened next to Jamie, or if he ever rediscovered his lost past. Until now....

'The Piper's Lament' is Jamie's story. Although legal issues forbid the audio to mention Jamie by name, author David J Howe cleverly works this into the actual story, adding to the mystery, and the final, emotional climax of the piece. It is, essentially, a one-man play in audiobook format, told from the viewpoint of the nameless Piper, in a cosy highland pub. Hines is no doubt an expert at the audio format through his work with the Target readings and Big Finish, and his performance here balances nicely between explanation and emotion. It's obvious to the ear that Hines is relishing the material that he has been provided with, and he rises to the occasion admirably. Due to the set-up of the drama, he is very conversational in his approach, and thanks to the careful direction of Sam Stone, you have a genuine impression of sitting with him in a corner of a pub, listening to him telling you his story.

The script itself is gorgeous, too. Essentially designed to give the character of Jamie a proper moment of rediscovery, it manages to be far, far more than just a string of fan-pleasing references. As fun as a full 60-minutes of references to Ice Warriors, Cybermen, and giant crabs would be, Howe instead focusses on Jamie's pre-and post- TARDIS life. Without giving too much away, it's these parts of the story that genuinely break your heart, without needing to rely on anything we might have seen on television. Combining a beautiful script with an understated reading from Hines, we are made to care about the characters Howe himself has created, and there are a few death scenes that are genuinely striking and shocking. They linger in the memory long after, just like the gentle, melancholy score of haunting bagpipes lamenting throughout. These moments are peppered very nicely with touches of warmth and humour, that do nothing to disturb the atmosphere created by Stone's direction.

Of course, this being a play about a nameless piper remembering his past, there are plenty of extremely fan-pleasing sequences that will have lovers of the Troughton era squealing with delight. They are used sparingly, adding to their impact, and they help reinforce the fact that the piper is our Jamie McCrimmon, still battling on after all these years...

'The Piper's Lament' reaches a touching, heartfelt conclusion, that ties up the story of Jamie, and at the same time points us to the future. It is, absolutely, a love-letter to the character of Jamie McCrimmon, and perhaps to Frazer Hines himself, but a carefully constructed letter that manages not to gush. It's a celebration of Jamie, not just of his TARDIS adventures, but of his character, and of his own personal history.

Listen to 'The Piper's Lament' by a crackling fire, with a bowl of hot soup and glass of whisky. Now that winter is here, what more could you possibly want? Put your feet up, close your eyes, and catch up with an old, old friend....

ICONS: Patrick Troughton

Ben: The Doctor always wore this. If you are him it should fit... That settles it!

The Doctor: I'd like to see a butterfly fit into a chrysalis case after it spreads its wings.

Polly: Then you did change.

The Doctor: Life depends on change, and renewal.

 

William Hartnell played the First Doctor, from 1963 – 1966. He was an incredible actor, bringing us a perfect Doctor right at the very beginning of his adventures. In those mysterious, black and white days, Hartnell created a Doctor of mystery and intrigue, a fighter of evil, and a man even capable of falling in love. Every element of each Doctor since Hartnell was done by him first, whether to a larger or smaller extent. He set the standard, and was always going to be a tough act to follow.

 

When William Hartnell decided to leave the show, back in 1966, the BBC had a number of options when replacing him. They could get a Hartnell look-a-like to carry on the show, or even cast a widely different actor in the role but still pretend he's the same bloke. Either of these safe, mundane choices could have cost the show its next 47 years on television. Luckily, cleverly, they did something never before attempted in a series. They made the change of actor a part of the shows' mythology! Viewers would see the Doctor physically change into a different man. Even James Bond could never have done that (and this was even before the Bond films had changed their leading man at all)!

 

The idea of regeneration, or 'renewal', as it was then termed, was a brilliant idea, and the perfect 'get-out clause' for a show that needed to swap its star. But never one to rest on their laurels, the producers, having changed William Hartnell into newcomer Patrick Troughton, decided to leave the audience in some doubt over the new chap for a while. A brave, daring choice that added new spice to a show that had been on air for 3 years already.

 

*

 

Part one of 'Power of the Daleks' is terrifying. Alien, claustrophobic, mysterious. A hot planet with mercury swamps, murderous humans double-crossing each other, and a deadly capsule containing the dreaded Daleks.

 

But the scariest thing about this story, the first episode in particular, is Patrick Troughton in his début adventure. Once he has taken over from Hartnell, his Doctor starts to act a bit oddly (what we now refer to as 'post-regenerative trauma'). But more than that, he's dangerous with it. The fiendish laugh Troughton gives near the episodes' beginning is absolutely terrifying, and that, combined with his choosing to speak of 'the Doctor' in third person, almost leads the audience to think that maybe some evil alien imposter has hijacked the Doctor's body....

 

In his first ever episode, the Second Doctor also gets his trusty recorder. Now seen as a whimsical, Troughton-esque quirk, in 'Power of the Daleks', its presence is almost chilling. Although 'Power...' no longer exists on film, the images conjured up by the audio track of this strange new man dancing around the TARDIS, playing his instrument, are disturbing, child-like and sinister. Perhaps the audio-only aspect adds to the atmosphere of this unusual piper – strutting about like a jester from the Devil's Court. The undertones are subtle, though, quietly sowing seeds of doubt and fear, unlike the blatant insanity of the misjudged 'The Twin Dilemma'.

Once the Doctor leaves the TARDIS to explore, however, the sinister elements slowly fade from his character; the old, Hartnell heroism slowly taking over. From rushing to the aid of a man who has just been shot, to giving his companion Ben a reassuring wink, we soon start to feel a bit safer around this renewed man.

 

Polly warms to the Doctor faster than Ben, who finds the lack of information on the Doctors' change of appearance (not to mention his constant tooting on the recorder) massively frustrating. But the stubbornness is just a front. The game-playing and silliness are just façades Troughtons' Doctor hides behind, and they quickly crumble away once his fear begins to creep through. His fear when stumbling upon his mortal enemies...

 

As Part 1 draws to a close, the audience starts to warm toward this new Doctor, accept him. What better way to cement his status as the new Doctor, then, than have him come face-to-face with his oldest and deadliest enemies? And even more so, to have the Daleks recognise him?

 

'Power of the Daleks' is an amazing story, with a game-changing first episode. Throughout the six-part adventure, Patrick Troughton gave us a glimpse of the many facets of his Doctor's character – the whimsical child, the cosmic hobo, the dark manipulator, the fighter of evil – and these would develop over the next three years, before becoming staples of many future Doctors.

 

By refusing to go down the obvious route, Patrick Troughton not only gave us a brilliant and influential Doctor, but he also gave our beloved show immortality. William Hartnell was excellent, of course, but without the concept of regeneration, the series could not have continued. And the regeneration would have counted for nothing, if the right man hadn't been chosen to continue where William Hartnell left off.

 

50 years of Doctor Who. We owe it all to Patrick Troughton.

 

 For more on the Troughton era:

- A New Discovery of Old

- Season 6B

 

 

 

 

Everything I Learned In Life, I Got From Doctor Who

#4 Eat Jelly Babies

 

Ok, I have a confession. I never used to like jelly babies. Many moons ago, back at Primary School, I'd lap up the Haribo's and the pick'n'mix chews like....well, like a hungry 8-year old boy! But when the box of jelly babies was passed around, I'd baulk and pass it on. They were too sweet and sickly for me, back then. After all, I was sweet enough (Stop laughing at the back)!

 

But I know that my tastes changed dramatically once I entered the bright blue doors of the TARDIS, into the crazy world of 'Doctor Who'. Watching Tom Baker munching on jelly babies, offering them to new friends, using them as weapons, automatically gave me a taste for them. Just like that, as Tommy Cooper might say. Probably.

 

As you seasoned Whovians will know, jelly babies were first utilised by Patrick Troughton's second incarnation of the Doctor, but it was number 4, Tom Baker, who made those edible children his own. He didn't just eat them, he used them to make friends. To show people he was on their side. To make peace with people. What a brilliant idea! And what a wonderful way to introduce yourself to someone! Hand shakes are boring and stiff. But jelly babies? They're colourful, they're tasty, and they're barmy! The perfect ice breaker.

 

I nearly always carry jelly babies around with me wherever I go. Bumping into charity workers in the street, meeting friends of friends, going to work or my radio station...Jelly babies always raise the mood! I even gave Frazer Hines and Colin Spaull a bag of them, after meeting the delightful chaps at a signing in a local Doctor Who shop.

So, if you're in an awkward situation with new people, and need a quick way to endear yourself to someone, rely on the tensile strength of jelly babies! It always works for me!

 

PS I have written a poem about jelly babies. I'll have to share it with you sometime...

 

 

For previous installments of 'Everything I Learned...':

#1 Talk To Strangers

#2 Drink Tea

#3 Be Yourself

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