Tony’s been weaponized.
Fact 1: Cavan Scott is a
man who knows his Who.
Fact 2: Cavan Scott is a
man who, if anything, knows his comic-books even better.
Welcome to the good times.
The Ninth Doctor got a
staggered start in Titan’s comic-book output – Doctors Ten, Eleven and Twelve
were already romping about their respective universes when Titan dipped its toe
in the Ninth Doctor’s pond with a short run, a mini-series to see whether, a
decade down the line, anyone would particularly buy a Ninth Doctor
comic-book. You can see their point: while we yield to no-one in our admiration
of Eccleston, his performance or the Doctor he built, you have to be very very
careful when delivering that Doctor in the comic-book medium. You need him to
be quintessentially himself, and to be – as he was defined on-screen by being –
accompanied by at least Rose. You need that broodiness, that occasional
shouting, moments of sudden silliness, you need it all. But you have to balance
it with the different demands of the comic-book medium to those of on-screen
storytelling. Even if people wanted to read more stories with the Ninth Doctor,
it’s a very delicate balancing act to pull off to make him fundamentally
himself all the way through and still deliver an engaging comic-book story.
You got the part where
Scott knows both his Who and his comic-books, right?
In hindsight, you don’t
need us to tell you he succeeded. So far, the Ninth is the only Doctor to have
started with a mini-series and graduated to a full monthly run, despite
exemplary work on behalf of the Eighth, Fourth and now Third Doctors
(Seriously, Titan – First, Second, Fifth, Sixth? Seventh if you feel you
absolutely must…). Weapons of Past Destruction was the proof of concept, the
proof of market that pushed the brooding Northern Doctor into full-time
production. And the fact is, you can see why that happened. Cavan Scott’s
storyline starts off with a bang and a conflict between two madly outer-space
species, the Lect and the Unon. The Lect look like robotic Kinder Eggs, and the
Unon, to quote Scott’s Ninth Doctor, look like ‘Flying space-centaurs, all
gleaming armour and pointy sticks.’ The cause of their disagreement though?
That’s where things get interesting. There’s enough post-Time War angst and
shouting from the Ninth Doctor, but there’s also the Ninth Doctor on fire,
as he was towards the end of his life in Bad Wolf and The Parting of
The Ways, absolutely riffing it, heading into danger with a yell, a mad laugh,
a flared nostril and a plan he cobbles together as he goes, based largely on
the idea that the universe owes him a victory and the knowledge of his own
brilliance. There’s that touch of Time Lord arrogance about him, convinced he
has the right stuff in every situation, and that many other life-forms are tiny
and ‘made of clay’ by comparison. But in the moments when he finds his outrage,
as he does fairly early in issue #2 of the story, it helps focus him, helps
remind him who the Doctor is, and how he acts, even in this body, to stand
between the good people in the universe and those who seek to squash them under
arrogant feet.
There’s plenty of
timey-wimey in the story too – at one point, Rose gets lost in the vortex and
ends up working at a bazar for a while, under the tutelage of a giant octopus,
making her way in a barmy universe till the Doctor and Jack come to collect
her. That also hits the ‘Companion doing their own thing’ note that was
relatively new to on-screen Who when the series roared back into the public
consciousness in 2005.
And what Scott combines
are a hundred gracenotes of the Ninth Doctor’s time with a plot that’s suitably
complex to fit alongside the Bad Wolf arc, and above all, an ear for voice. Oh man,
Cavan Scott has an ear for voice. Check out this extract and tell us you don’t
hear the Ninth Doctor.
‘I see the legends about you are true.’
‘Legends? Got to love a good legend. Go on
then – what do they say? Please don’t tell me they mention the ears.’
‘They speak of your incessant babble.’
‘It serves a purpose. Self-preservation.’
‘To stop others hurting you?’
‘To stop me hurting them.’
How perfect is that? A
Doctor that babbles not because he wants to, but because it’s what the Doctor
used to do, and right now, in this war-scarred life, he needs every reminder he
can get to claw his way back to being that man, to stop the fury and the rage
and the anything-goes power of the alternative
overwhelming him.
Both Rose and Jack are
very true to their on-screen selves throughout this mini-series too – and
importantly, they’re true to themselves at the time when this story’s set,
rather than ever dipping into Torchwood Jack and Tenth Doctor Rose. Scott’s a
far better writer than to allow that to happen.
Is the story perfect?
Mmmmm It’s close, but no –
the first issue does involve quite a lot of not-very-much in story terms, and
relies a little too heavily on the artwork and the sheer novelty of Ninth
Doctor comic-books to be quite perfect, but it never even considers dabbling
with the idea of badness, and it gets a lot better from the second issue on,
filling its time with that delicate balance we were talking about: the Ninth
Doctor imprinting himself on your consciousness just as he did on-screen while
still delivering an issue-by-issue deepening of the backstory, a raising of the
stakes, as war becomes complex, Rose Tyler stands between the opposing forces,
and time’s new champions make a play to replace the Time Lords as arbiters of
fairness in a universe of post-war chaos.
From a standing start it
ramps up into a story you simply can’t stop reading – and that’s the hidden
sales pitch of this collected volume. The issues, when they were released, made
you want, and want more, and more, and left you at the end feeling utterly
satisfied but still eager for more Ninth Doctor adventures. Here in the
collected edition, you can absolutely binge on what is essentially Series 0,75
– a whole arc of moral complexity, anger, yelling, arrogance, plans, fun,
silliness, humanity, teaching and Jack…being Jack. It’s the second series you
always wanted Eccleston to do, and by the honesty of the voices and the
complexity of the storyline, it stands up to everything Russell T Davies
delivered.
Can we talk art? Oh go on,
let’s talk art. We could talk about the art of The Weapons of Past Destruction
till your eyes glazed over and you shuffled away with a nervous smile on your
lips, in search of anyone, anyone else to talk to. Artwise,
you’re looking at Blair Shedd and Rachael ‘Had a really good 2016 on the
Twelfth Doctor comic-books’ Stott. You’re talking colour, vividness, strong,
accurate portrayals of the Tardis crew – which when you’re reaching back ten
years for your connection-point with a readership is even more important than
it is when you’re delivering figures from current multi-media pop culture.
Normally we’d pick out a couple of the best and most dynamic panels for you,
but in Weapons of Past Destruction, the challenge is finding panels that aren’t
dynamic, extraordinary or poster-worthy. If we’re absolutely pushed, there’s a
fantast triptych of Doctors, Eight Nine and War on the same page, and there’s
another, almost opposite panel including Troughtonesque Cybermen and Tennant
Sontarans that sends a particular thrill up the geeky reader’s spine. Is the
art perfect then? As with the story, there’s one issue that stops it claiming
that honour, in this case the overuse of silhouette shots far beyond the point
at which they’re an interesting inversion to accent the action, and into the
realms of intrusive overkill of an artistic idea. But you’d be splitting
nano-hairs, either with the storytelling or the artwork, to claim any issue of
Weapons of Past Destruction was ruined for you by the flaws that stop it being
entirely perfect.
The Weapons of Past
Destruction was exciting when it was released in issue-by-issue format.
Gathering the whole thing together in a single volume is a (ahem) fantastic
idea, and makes it something rather more special than any of the usual
collected Who volumes. This storyline, this artwork, helped fans remember their
love affair with a brand new Doctor – and a brand new Doctor Who to boot. This
collected volume is a ridiculous, compelling,
‘Don’t-talk-to-me-till-I’m-finished’ pleasure that (*cough* Just saying *cough*)
would keep any Who fan quiet for a good few hours on Christmas Day.
No comments:
Post a Comment