Tony’s
coming down with a mould.
A writer’s
world will frequently make its way into their work. When Robert Holmes had what
he decided was an unreasonable tax demand, for instance, he gave Doctor Who the
immortal story of The Sunmakers.
There’s a sense
in which you have to assume that Aaron Lamont, writer of Lease Of Life, had
quite the experience of student accommodation.
In a 3-bedroom
house near to the centre of Cardiff live Ellie (Rosalie Craig), Seren (Luyanda
Unati Lewis-Nyawo), and Nye (Angus Yellowlees).
They…have a
mould problem.
Fortunately,
Cardiff Council’s leading mould specialist, Dr Owen Harper, is on hand to
investigate.
Mm-hmm. Yeah.
That sound in your head is the story stretching out in front of you.
Mould is of
course a famous and well-used wordless ‘villain’ in science fiction and horror.
Like fog, it’s natural, spreading – and you can’t reason with it. It just eats.
It eats a
lot in Lease of Life.
It seems hardly
spoilerific to say that the mould in Seren’s house is not from round here. In
fact, Owen’s seen it before, but usually, Torchwood gets on the case a lot
faster than it does this time.
So from almost
the word go in this story, Owen’s on a race against time. Time, and a mould from
outer space.
Just as a
heads-up, when you listen to Lease Of Life…maybe make sure you do it in the
daytime.
Like most
similar stories, the progression here is through stages of decay, and the
stakes elevate as the story goes along. When it starts, it’s just mould. A
patch of mould.
Sure, who
cares, right? Spot a student house without mould, you’re on to a good thing.
But more or
less from the moment Owen arrives, the mould shows its true…well, not colours,
obviously, but its true potential, certainly. Ellie, Seren and Nye are not
students, but they could well be – they’re each in a kind of stasis when Owen
arrives. Seren in particular is putting up with the grimness of the house so
she can save up the money to go travelling and see the world. Ellie doesn’t
especially like either of our housemates, and Nye is out a lot, and playing loud
music to isolate himself from the reality of the house and his housemates when
he’s in.
It’s the very
definition of dysfunction, and the mould, for all it’s an alien life-form
intent on eating everything with which it comes into contact, is also a handy
metaphor for the toxic isolation of modern life, where conversation and
potential friendship is eaten alive by self-revolution and our own concerns.
If Ellie, Nye,
Seren and Owen work together, there’s a chance they can get rid of the mould.
So… that’s simple,
then.
Except before
you know what’s happening, Ellie’s gone out on a run, potentially spreading
mould spores over a 6km radius, the kitchen floor’s collapsed and a meeting
with the landlord does nothing to resolve the situation.
When Owen finds
the source of the mould, it becomes appallingly apparent that Dr Owen Harper,
one of Torchwood’s finest, is way out of his league against a houseful of
unthinking infection.
In fact, the
worse the situation becomes, the less likely a solution seems to be.
It would spoil
the building of the drama to tell you exactly what happens, but perhaps it’s
fair to say that in stories where Owen Harper takes centre stage, things are
rarely less than grim, and there’s usually a body-count.
Mould versus
humans. Just saying. You’re going to need more than a damp cloth.
When a solution
is eventually found, it’s very much last-ditch, do-this-or-destroy-the-world in
its nature, and it demands at least one sacrifice to implement. The escalation
takes a patch of mould into a full-on horror story, and as in most horror
stories, the odds of everyone getting out alive are slim.
In Torchwood
horror stories of course, the odds of anyone getting out alive are
pretty slim. This is no exception, but what it delivers is a solidly human
fear, developing beyond the scope in which we usually experience it. It also
gives you a reasonable allegory of isolation and how it leads to disaster, some
engaging characterisation, and a story in which Owen is able to shine.
Lease Of Life
will have you checking your ceilings, looking behind your bookcases and
scrubbing extra hard. Kill the mould. Kill it all…
Just sayin’…
No comments:
Post a Comment