Tony Fyler
just hopes to make it out alive.
Terry
Nation was that most remarkable of things in all the writing world – a writer
who repeatedly came up with an endlessly recyclable idea.
Some
of the most popular writers in the world come up with one endlessly recyclable
idea, and recycle it, endlessly, for the rest of their careers – Agatha
Christie, Douglas Adams, most crime or thriller writers, Terry Pratchett. They
find one idea, one world in which their imagination can properly play – and
they enrich the world with variations on a theme.
Nation
will go down in history as being the man who had the idea that was the Daleks.
When challenged to show where they came from, he wrote a contender for the Top
Who Villain slot, in Davros. Then, seemingly because the curiosity took him, he
created Survivors from the premise of a plague infection, wiping out a
significant portion of the human race. And while the Dalek will forever be
Nation’s way into the mass popular consciousness, it’s with Survivors that he
staked his claim on a solid chunk of creepy sci-fi real estate that puts him up
there with John Wyndham or Stephen King, and even arguably up with Bradbury and
HG Wells. And then of course, he had another endlessly recyclable idea in
Blake’s 7, delivering a distinctly British take on dystopian space opera. Perversely,
most of the time, Nation was something of a jobbing writer. Much of his work
for commercial TV on shows like The Avengers, The Baron and The Champions
passed muster, but would never go down in TV history.
But
Daleks. Survivors. Blake.
Three
endlessly recyclable ideas. The Daleks continue to appear in new and
philosophically challenging ways both on screen and on Big Finish audio.
Blake’s 7 has been rebooted once with a whole new cast, and is now adding
substantially to its canon with its original players, also in audio stories.
Survivors has been rebooted and updated on screen, and now there’s an audio
version of that too.
Now
– imagine the true scale of Survivors. A worldwide plague wipes out all of
humankind, bar, for some reason, a relative handful.
Then
imagine a 1970s BBC budget.
Yyyyyyeah.
The
idea of Survivors was always going to far outstrip its on screen potential to
tell the story of a world suddenly doomed, where the living scrabble to live
another day against historical diseases, violent tribalism and a growing
competition for resources, once the engines that make those resources available
to us all on a daily basis shuts down.
But
now the series has come to Big Finish audio – does that mean the budgetary
shackles have come off? Are we going to hear of the survival of gangs in New
York, growing oligarchies of food in Mumbai, the oil sheikhs of Saudi Arabia
slaughtered as the crowd becomes hysterical?
Err…no.
Because
if there’s one thing the budget limitations of the original Survivors proved,
it’s that the true connection with an audience’s understanding of such an
apocalyptic event is to be found in the ordinary, the everyday, the people’s
stories.
Survivors
Season 1 on audio is a shocking production in the best sense of the word. Episode
1, Revelation (all the chapter titles are handily nicked from the bible this
first time out), shows the stories of a handful of ordinary people in the UK,
but the scale is certainly bigger. Incidentally, let’s establish this right now
– this is the original Survivors
paradigm we’re dealing with, the 70s version, before satnavs and cellphones,
and carrying with it as it goes along a more than healthy chunk of the sexism
of the age in the attitudes of some characters. The idea is that we begin with
new people in that same apocalypse, and ultimately, we meet characters from
that version, and together they drive the plot forward to a conclusion that
leaves the way open for further Survivors series in the traditional mold. But
yes, the scale is initially bigger – we hear people trapped in Heathrow
Airport, secured for quarantine and with nowhere left to go (a horrifying plot
strand that confronts the real, appalling pragmatism of cataclysm). We hear
London newspaper writers Helen and Daniel struggling to keep information
flowing as the channels of communication shut down all around them. And we hear
the scenario as it plays out in a suburban polytechnic, through the character
of James Gillison, a lecturer who teaches social science, spouting examples from
history as his class develops persistent coughs that end in smaller, quieter,
more traumatised classes. It’s a balanced affair that delivers both the sudden
shift of the world on its axis, as governments find themselves overwhelmed and
underprepared, and the slower unwinding of the thread of daily life in more
suburban and eventually rural areas.
One
thing it is not is sentimental – people you expect to survive because you’ve
spent so long learning about their lives are suddenly picked off, those you barely
know survive, and it’s a clever use of the medium that that actually forces you
to think in a post-apocalyptic way: don’t get attached, you don’t know what
tomorrow, or the next episode, brings.
The
next episode, as it happens, brings Louise Jameson to a party that’s already
included some BF stalwarts – Terry ‘Davros’ Molloy as government man John
Redgrave, Chase Masterson as ass-kicking American lawyer and
Bridezilla-in-waiting Maddie Price etc – and when you meet her, you know her
story almost instantly, but it still manages to rip your heart
right in two. Jameson does some of her best ever audio work in that second
episode, Exodus, as Jackie Burchall, who loses her whole family as a result of
the plague and its fall-out. Yes, that’s a big claim. Yet, it’s more or less
justified.
Such
is the structure of Season 1 that the first two episodes work as a kind of
extended telling of the story of the disaster, and episodes 3 and 4 are set
after some time has passed, and society is beginning to reform itself.
Episode
3, Judges, consolidates the threads of the first two episodes with life being
re-established in new, more barbaric patterns on the campus of the polytechnic,
with Gillison, the lecturer, now in increasingly paranoid control of his
community of the healthy. Greg Preston and Jenny Richards, original Survivors
played by original actors Ian McCulloch and Lucy Fleming, connect into the plot
here, and cause no end of trouble as Gillison’s world becomes more and more
unstable and people start to die more and more frequently and openly, with less
and less actual cause. The second ‘act’ of the season builds to a logical,
inescapable but still chill-worthy climax, with surprises and character-shocks
along the way. The sense of growing tension, of tripwires and trapdoors being
made of wrong words to wrong people builds in a way that will remove
fingernails from most listeners – and it’s also a perverse reflection on the
effect of the apocalypse. While at first, you wonder if there’s some harsh but
realistic rationale behind Gillison’s behavior, as episodes 3 and 4 build in
intensity, the environment on the campus becomes like being trapped in an
office all day and all night – the petty intrigues, the gossip, the alliances
over tea or coffee – only played out in a world where the wrong word will get
you shot as a traitor. It’s a creepy examination of the foibles of human
beings, magnified by the intense pressure for resources that something like a
pandemic would bring.
Perhaps
one of the creepiest realisations this season of audio Survivors brings though isn’t
even in the drama at all, but in the extras. Terry Molloy, asked how he
approached his portrayal of Redgrave, acknowledges that Survivors makes us
think about how we would react in such a world, and reminds us that we haven’t
had to think about it for decades – but that we see worlds like that of
Survivors on our TV screen every night. War, famine, pestilence and death are
rampant in many places in the world, some of them directly or indirectly the
responsibility of our own western governments. The faces of those we see
desperately trying to escape, to survive, to find asylum in countries where the
apocalypse has yet to happen – all it would take would be for the agents of
destruction to be manifested here, instead of far away on our TV screens, and
those faces could belong to Greg Preston, to Jenny Richards, to John Redgrave
and Maddie Preston, to James Gillison and Abby Grant.
To
you. To me.
Should
you buy Survivors Season 1? Yes, unreservedly. Yes it’s expensive, as the Big
Finish box sets frequently are. But for such a tightly-plotted,
expertly-realised version of one of Terry Nation’s endlessly recyclable ideas,
bringing the old and the new together in a punchy, wrenching way that keeps you
guessing almost till the end, you won’t feel one penny overcharged.
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