Each of the
three Doctors who piloted the Tardis during the 80s had adventures with
longstanding foes like the Daleks and Cybermen, but each of them also had
era-specific enemies or monsters that had the potential for further use, but
which never made it across into another Doctor’s time. The Sixth Doctor had
Sil, the particularly unpleasant slug-like Mentor . The Seventh Doctor tangled with
Fenric, the Elder God. The Fifth Doctor’s private property was, if we’re honest,
a cut above both of them. The Mara was based in religious symbolism – in
Buddhism, Mara is a demon of seduction. Marrying that idea to the
Judaeo-Christian idea of a serpent who tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden,
Doctor Who’s Mara is all things to all people – a creature of the mind, that
feeds your desires and grows stronger, until, when released, it takes the form
of a giant snake and is free to obey its own whims, bring chaos and destruction
everywhere it sinks its fangs.
It could be
said that this is not normal Doctor Who fare, but on the other hand, the show
has a long history of explaining the way in which rationally explicable things
have become part of some belief system or other. But especially in its
manifestations in the TV stories Kinda and Snakedance, the Mara really was
something particularly disturbing, Janet Fielding doing exceptional work to
bring the definitively adult concept into the family show, and push the
boundaries between ‘hiding behind the sofa’ scary and ‘actually potentially
traumatizing’ scary.
Big Finish
audio has many opportunities the TV show never had, and one of those
opportunities is to revisit monsters or villains that had potential, but which
perhaps suffered from TV budgets. While the human and mental incarnations of
the Mara were deeply disturbing on screen, its ultimate serpent form had an
inevitable tendency to be a let-down. And while Kinda stuck reasonably close to
the mythological origins of the Mara, with a tribe of mostly-mute aborigines
falling under the spell of the first male among them to speak (with the Mara
putting words in his mouth, based on his desire to rid his world of a
scientific expedition), Snakedance, the second Mara story, gave a fascinating
investigation of precisely the reverse – how spiritual or
objectively-experienced things can come to be viewed as ‘mumbo-jumbo’ over
time, and how we as a species de-fang the snakes of our collective
consciousness. If that strikes you as a trite point, bear in mind that this
Easter there were Dalek Easter eggs on sale in stores: the symbol of
science-fiction racial purity, used to sell chocolate to children.
So, given
the opportunity to add a third chapter to the Mara story, what does Big Finish
offer in The Cradle of the Snake?
Well,
sadly, slightly less than the sum of its predecessors. After a strong ‘next
time on Big Finish’ moment at the end of The Whispering Forest, the action at
the start of The Cradle of the Snake feels rather clunky – there’s a lot of
Turlough asking ‘What?’, and Nyssa or the Doctor filling in the exposition of
their previous tangles with the snake of seduction. Intending to pop back to
Manussa and have a word with Dojjen, the mystic so instrumental in the Mara’s
defeat in Snakedance, the Doctor overshoots, and lands them in the Manussan
past – a hundred years before the rise of the Mara on that planet. He also
links minds with Tegan in an attempt to drive the Mara out of her once and for
all. Janet Fielding as ever does superb work bringing the self-assured tones of
the Mara to her performance by degrees, to disturb the listener, but the snake
makes a point – if it leaves Tegan, it must find somewhere else to go. Yanked
prematurely from Tegan’s mindscape by Nyssa’s concern, the Doctor heads off
into Manussan society, to find Tegan a medic who can cure her once and for all.
It’s not
long before there’s a sense of ouroboros at work – the snake that eats its own
tail – as the Mara comes out to play on Manussa significantly before it’s
‘supposed’ to, through the engine of a machine that translates thought energy
into physical realities (hence the cradle of the snake, as the Mara has always
been about the translation of thought into action, thought into reality), and
one by one, those who appear to be ranged against its rise simply fall to the
power of its seductive voice. Oddly enough, given her experience with the
character and its very vocal performance, Janet Fielding only gets an initial
shot at being the Mara in this story, though everyone else, at some point or
other, has a turn. Without overspoiling you, listen out for the Nyssa Mara,
it’s a treat for anyone who thinks she’s always been a bit too Goody Two-Shoes.
While the
story of the Mara’s premature rise to power, feeding itself on the minds and
desires of many Manussans is straightforward enough, there’s something of a
headache in store for listeners trying to keep the timeline straight in their
head, as to whether the Mara was genuinely ‘born’ on Manussa as a result of the
thought-into-matter machine tapping into the darker desires of some Manussans,
or whether it’s only there at all because the Doctor and his crew brought it
there. The solution to the problem of premature Mara-rule is also more than a
little convenient, stretching the idea of balance to very near its breaking point
– only when balance is restored to the universe can the Mara be defeated.
Handily, here’s an avatar of perfect contentment to balance against the Mara’s
serpentine itch of endless desires – so that’s alright then, boys and girls.
There’s
some solid British acting talent trying to make sense of Marc Platt’s script,
including Dan ‘Dead Bloke From Downton’ Stevens as Rick ausGarten, Vernon
Dobtcheff as the pre-Dojjen Dojjen, Dadda Desaka, and increasingly ubiquitous
Big Finisher Hugh Fraser as Dr Hanri Kerrem, the doctor who gives Tegan a clean
bill of health, but as with many Platt scripts, there’s an overriding sense
that the ideas are more important than the demands of drama, so the wheels come
off the storytelling in episode three, and the solution rather bumps along the
ground for the majority of episode four without any actual ‘Ta-Dah’ moment or
the accompanying sense of having ultimately won anything. Oh and the big snake?
Yep, turns out it’s just as underwhelming as a sound effect as it was as an early-80s
puppet.
Perhaps the
real issue in The Cradle of the Snake though is not the lack of a coherent
storytelling structure for the last episode, but the lack of the sense of
menace that was unique to the Mara on screen. Both in Janet Fielding’s performance
as the embodied Mara, and Jeff Stewart’s as Dukkha, the main trickster in her
mind, there was a cold, delicious power that made the Mara feel like a real,
exciting force to watch. The truth is that no-one in The Cradle of the Snake
except Fielding can quite capture that slow, seductive malice – there’s too
much focus and drive in the Mara having a plan beyond existence, and everyone
seems committed to playing it as just a possessive force. As such, the Mara,
which feels inherently like it could be a villain custom-made to work
brilliantly in the audio format, falls depressingly flat in The Cradle of the
Snake as it busily sets about conquering its world.
One to buy,
then?
The voice
of the Mara inside you will probably tempt you to it, because to anyone who
enjoys the Mara and understands the appeal of it as a creation, the idea of not
knowing what it does after Snakedance is going to be intolerable. But it’s very
possible you’ll then spend quite some time trying to convince yourself you like
it rather more than you actually do.
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