Tony Fyler
is back on familiar ground.
Series
2 of Counter-Measures from Big Finish did a necessary thing to unnecessary
lengths – focusing on Sir Toby Kinsella, arch-manipulator and Counter-Measures’
‘Man from the Ministry.’ In Series 1, Sir Toby was a typical mandarin (translation for non-Brits – a
smooth, aristocratic civil servant that oils the wheels of government), and
Series 2 took him from that limited but likeable role into something darker,
more scary and more inherently harder-hearted, running the risk of sacrificing
his likeability for a gritty reality
which threatened to turn Counter-Measures from the adventure series it
was into something harder and less inherently fun to listen to.
Series
3 doesn’t compromise in terms of grit particularly, but does take us back to
the Counter-Measures basics, delivering strong stories of strangeness and
allowing them to affect our team and the people around them. It’s really quite
a relief to listen to.
The
first story, Changing of the Guard, by Matt Fitton, mirrors and intertwines two
storylines – Sir Toby’s the subject of an enquiry, and if it goes badly, he’ll
be stripped of control of Counter-Measures for his part in the events of Series
2. Meanwhile, there’s a red goo which becomes a crystal and seems to multiply
independent of the laws of physics or biology, and an underground gang war,
with a new power taking out some of London’s old guard of criminal gangsters,
but always seeming to have any number of alibis. It’s Matt Fitton, so you can
rely on it to be inventive, to hit some familiar notes, but to use them in ways
you might not expect. As a start to Series 3, it delivers great pacing, good
‘bits’ for all the main cast, an entertainingly odd threat and an energetic
push towards the climax of the story. It’s an enormous relief to start Series 3
on this note, and have a feeling of ‘for all Sir Toby’s a dubious character,
we’re back in the Counter-Measures business.’ Oh, and there’s a delicious cameo
by the Krays at the end – delicious given that their power base rested to some
extent on them being identical twins, and new gangster Kenny too bases his
attempt to take over London’s underworld on having identical siblings. Class,
thy name is Matt Fitton.
Counter-Measures
has never been afraid to dabble in Sapphire & Steel territory in terms of
its disturbing use of images and soundscapes to deliver thrills and weirdness.
The Concrete Cage by Justin Richards is this series’ entry into that realm,
while still grounding the story very much in a contemporary issue – the
building of ugly, sixties tower blocks. These mass housing solutions were
intended to bring a new standard of living for the residents of Britain’s slum
streets in the wake of the post-war period of post-colonial austerity, and they
may have done so in technical terms, but they also effectively ghettoized a lot
of people, who often found their new apartment lifestyle at odds with the
culture of friendly neighbourliness on which they’d relied to get them through
the harshness of both poverty and war.
The Concrete Cage of the title is a reference to the general
interpretation of how they felt. When people start seeing visions from the war
and jumping out of windows, it’s ‘creepy soundscape’ time, and Big Finish – in
case you’re hugely new to the company – does creepy soundscapes breathtakingly
well. There is a kind of pseudo-scientific rationale behind it all, which
emerges in pleasing, step-by-step developments, and which Richards pretty much
gets away with by virtue of pace and atmosphere, rather than necessarily by the
credibility of his technobabble. Solid roles for Michael Troughton (who has a
way with people who seem just a little slimy and sad on the outside, but may
have more to them than meets the eye), and Janet Henfry, who, bless her, is
consigned to more or less the same lines throughout the piece, add some weight
and complexity to the piece, and leave the listener feeling that they’ve been a
little through the wringer, but that it was worth the journey at the end.
The
Forgotten Village, by veteran Big Finish director Ken Bentley, is an unusual
one, but no less satisfying for that – it takes us back to Alison’s home town,
to her ageing father and her (we presume) first significant boyfriend, to
confront some of the issues that drove her away from the Herefordshire borders
between England and Wales and made her run to the delights of the clever,
non-judgmental, non-parochial people and ideas she found at Cambridge.
She
goes back to look after her father, who appears to have early onset dementia.
The story that unravels when she gets there needs you to keep your eye on the
ball, but develops into something rather better and more scary than a
traditional ‘base under siege’ tale, ultimately placing Gilmore and Jensen on
different sides of the fence (philosophically and literally), and bringing
consequences for Alison that look set to disrupt the life of Counter-Measures
as we have always known it.
And
Unto The Breach by John Dorney takes the team – or some of it at least – behind
the Iron Curtain, looking for an alien that can apparently tear lumps out of
the Berlin Wall by hand. Tensions rise between three of the team members, with
angry words spoken and deeply unethical deeds performed, leading to Gilmore’s
declaration that when the mission’s done, he’s leaving the whole bally
Counter-Measures business behind. Meanwhile at home, Alison encounters the
walking oil-can that is Templeton again, and we end the episode, and the
series, on a number of appallingly tense cliff-hangers, with each member of the
team in horrendous situations of one kind or another. In terms of ending the
series with the avowed intention of getting listeners to part with the money to
get Series 4, it’s a masterclass. In fact, if we didn’t know there IS a Series
4, we’d be worried by the ending, that the brave experiment that was
Counter-Measures – both in terms of the Group and the audio series itself – had
been defeated by malign or commercial forces.
Thankfully,
we know that’s not the case. At least, not yet.
Series
3 is a significant improvement on Series 2 as far as listening ease is
concerned, simply because it pushes its stories along at a lick, and all the
episodes feel like they give sufficient rewards for your attention, as well as
just building a dark, grim picture of Britain
in the Sixties, as Series 2 was prone to do. This series sees us back on an
adventurous track, while still dealing with threats domestic, foreign and
extra-foreign. It’s very good to be back.
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