Jenny - The Doctor's Daughter

The Doctor’s Daughter is one of my very least favourite Doctor Who stories. It’s full of risible dialogue, drab set design, ridiculous monsters and its central conceit – that the Doctor has a daughter – is so underworked and blandly explored that the episode fails on almost every level. “Make the foundation of this society a man who never would” is far more embarrassing than any farting Slitheen or burping bin. So when Big Finish announced their spin-off series, I was underwhelmed to say the least. It’s surely due to the sheer impossible ingenuity of the writing talent at Big Finish that this series is hugely enjoyable and succeeds where other spin-off series fail in revealing a picture of the vast breadth of the universe.

We travel from a galactic garage to English suburbia to an alien planet (complete with fully-developed culture) and finally outside of space-time altogether. River Song, Charley, even Bernice – none of their box sets have quite managed to capture the expansiveness of the universe in quite the same way as The Doctor’s Daughter.

It helps that our universal tour guides, Jenny and Noah are so hugely charming. Georgia Tennant and Sean Biggerstaff make for youthful, energetic sparring partners, coming across almost like sister and brother. Noah’s origins are shrouded in mystery and answers do not seem to be forthcoming any time soon. Jenny has the same qualities as her fictional father, a great brain and lust for adventure, but a larger dose of naiveite and recklessness. The unlikely partners are enormous fun to travel with (although it is never quite clear how long Jenny has been on the block or precisely how much she does know about life, the universe and everything).

Matt Fitton’s opener, Stolen Goods, is a terrific caper of an adventure. Stuart Milligan returns as the dastardly Urodelian Garundel (of Starlight Robbery and Black and White) and gives a typically camp, scenery-chewing turn. Fitton ably demonstrates Jenny’s speed of thought as she turns the tables on her would-be conman and his associates in a Sherlock-style see-what-I-just-noticed-there set-piece moment, perfectly illustrating the cleverness of the part-Time Lord early on and promising more of the same later. With great economy, Fitton provides all we need to know about our series lead and the general tone of the stories to come. It’s a terrific introduction.

In Prisoner of the Ood, John Dorney wrong-foots the listener immediately, plunging Jenny sans Noah into Arabella Weir’s porch with a request for plasma lasers. The narrative is all the better for being told out of order and surprises come thick and fast in the second half of the story, after a rip-roaring and very funny first half. Dorney’s own character John Macguire enjoys an hilarious exchange on his doorstep regarding working from home which is worth the entry price alone. As is now only to be expected from the writer, this is a funny, inventive and very bright script, superbly performed by a tremendous cast.

Christian Brassington’s Neon Reign has a strong sense of atmosphere. It boasts superb sound design from Joe Kraemer & Josh Arakelian and there is a definite sense of otherworldliness about this production. It’s only a small thing but the incessant rain gives the place an edge, a dangerous quality, a lived-in feel. Brassington sketches in cultural details with skill to make the planet feel real. What doesn’t quite work, however, are the playground gender politics which have more in common with Galaxy 4 than Germaine Greer. Even a last-minute switch-aroo can’t disguise how simplistic the whole business feels, especially considering how in-vogue and complex the issues of gender identity have become. It’s a shame that such a richly developed planet boils down to the weak foundation of a leader who doesn’t much like women.

Zero Space by Adrian Poynton brings the series to a pacey conclusion, again, pulling lots of surprises out of the bag. This story of Schrodinger’s clones is a focused and efficient tale, with a great sci-fi concept at its heart, typifying the sort of generally brassy and bold ideas which have fuelled all four adventures. We’re left with a strong sense of fun, with two leads we’d love to spend more time with, and the promise of a second series more than just an appealing notion, more an urgent necessity. 

Special mention must also be given to Sian Phillips as the Colt 5000, an android assassin who recurs throughout the boxset. The role is frankly below her considerable talents but she plays it with such aplomb, she becomes just as memorable as Jenny and Noah.

All in all, Jenny – The Doctor’s Daughter is an unexpected triumph, truly spanning the variety of the universe and even a little outside of it. Hopefully, we can look forward to hearing more adventures with our odd couple, and the – surely obligatory – team-up with Jenny’s Pop. Now there’s a scene ripe for the writing! And with the standard of penmanship on display here, I’m sure it will be a wholly unexpected, wildly imaginative and definitely spectacular reunion.

8/10

Just a quick note to talk about Barnaby Edwards's comment on the Big Finish news page which I really cannot let pass. He always, always casts his stories superbly and this series proves no exception. However, I do take exception to his statement on The Doctor’s Daughter: “It is not a coincidence that the main protagonist (aside from Jenny) in each story is female. I purposely cast it that way, in order to pit our heroine against villains of her own gender.” Frankly, why? What bloody difference does it make? The series doesn’t feel particularly feminine. It’s written by four self-proclaimed geeky males for, I imagine (although I can’t prove it!), a self-proclaimed and geeky male fandom. Certainly, the folks I see talking about the Big Finish releases online are predominantly men. The letters in Vortex magazine are predominantly written by men. And above all else, the gender of the protagonist in a series doesn’t seem to be in any way an issue for any of these men. Christ, we started at Bernice Summerfield! Graham Williams gave tonnes of roles to women in late 1970s Doctor Who but he wasn’t as patronising or classless to even mention it. Surely, that’s how casting should work. Whilst Edwards directs splendidly and not one of his casting decisions can be classed as tokenistic so talented are the actors he employs, it’s a pretty feeble statement to make about a series, let alone a selling point. It just comes across as needlessly worthy and at worst positively discriminatory. There have been strong roles for women in Doctor Who for decades. It’s about time we stopped pretending that this is anything new.

JH