I’ve been spending a bit of time recently in various areas of the forum, Gallifrey Base.  It all started when I innocently waded into a classic vs new debate and has spilled over into a few other threads.  A couple of posters in particular have ended up on my ignore list, which is a shame, and I have probably been a bit more bothered by these ‘discussions’ than I should have been.  One thing, though, that it has highlighted to me is how some fans just seem determined to be miserable about a show they profess to love.
The number of fans around that place (and elsewhere on the Internet) who declare over and over again that the show has become something they don’t consider to be Doctor Who; they don’t like this; they don’t like that and – consequently – they’ve stopped watching.  Now, some of you will have seen my ‘Do you love Doctor Who unconditionally?’ thread and (despite one poster’s assertion that I’d set it up as a trap) that stemmed from the fact I have been struggling to understand the negative mindset of some fans.  The mindset that says the new series gets it all wrong; the mindset that says Nick Briggs is destroying Big Finish (and apparently the TV series too, because he has a monopoly on the voice of the Daleks); the mindset that is obsessed by ratings and AIs and how they prove the failings of Steven Moffat; the mindset that generally cuts its nose off to spite its face…But why, Delta, are you dragging this, frankly nasty, debate into the happy place that is the Long Game?  Well, it relates a little to how I’ve been feeling about the 19th Century part of my marathon and Jago and Litefoot (as described in my previous post).  I’ve got a bit fed up with the 19th century.  Stories aren’t doing anything new.  I really disliked The Ghosts of Gralstead and found Jago in Love (and its preceding story in the spin-off, Chronoclasm) dull and poorly scripted.  I was dissatisfied with my ‘current’ Who and wondering why I was making myself slog through it.  I listened to Jago in Love, not in anticipation, but in resignation.  Were I of the mindset of those fans who rile me so, I’d be giving up on it (and making sure I was coming on to the forum and declaring the fact I was giving up over and over AND OVER again).


But I have an optimism.  I know that the world of Doctor Who is so infinite that whilst there may be a story – or indeed a run of stories – which leave me a little bored; or a little disappointed; or a little uninspired, there will be another one along sometime soon which excites me and renews my enthusiasm.  It happened, for me, with Series 8.  I really didn’t like Capaldi’s Doctor and struggled with the first half of that series.  But then along came Mummy on the Orient Express and Flatline and I found two episodes, Flatline in particular, that I am happy to declare as two of my favourite new series episodes.  Had I bailed (as I know many fans have done) before then, I would have missed out of the genius that is Flatline and the shrinking TARDIS.


And so, to my point.  Had I bailed on Jago and Litefoot, or indeed the 19th century and my marathon, I would have missed out on Beautiful Things.  Beautiful Things, the second story in Series 4 of the infernal investigators escapades, is possibly my favourite story of the series up to this point.  It certainly ranks highly along with Theatre of Dreams, Swan Song and The Man at the End of the Garden.  It is everything I love about Jago and Litefoot and helped remind me with this series is so well-loved.  Whilst I may not enjoy it as much as others, there are still gems of stories and I’m glad my eternal optimism and unconditional love for Doctor Who in all its many iterations allows me to discover them.Beautiful Things stands out a little in the world of Jago and Litefoot because it is the first story to feature a historical figure in the narrative: Oscar Wilde.  Because of this, we are dragged back to the world of the theatre and stories which, as you may have noticed from my favourite Jago and Litefoot stories, is where I love the infernal investigators to be.  Litefoot’s education and Jago’s inate theatricalism lend themselves so readily to fascinating stories that I knew within the first few scenes that this was going to be a goodun.

The story is loosely inspired by The Picture of Dorian Gray.  Big Finish have a bit of a love affair with this character, featuring as he does in one of their popular and successful non-Doctor Who ranges.  I have yet to listen to any of the series, although I have heard their adaptation of the original novel, but I do have the first two series and am looking forward to them immensely.  Apparently, Echoes of Grey (a Zoe Companion Chronicle) also uses Dorian as inspiration and it was partly because of that release that its writer, John Dorney, came to write ‘Jago and Litefoot meet Oscar Wilde’ for this series.


Mysterious not-quite murders are occurring across London where young men are being found, effectively brain-dead on the streets.  Jago, Leela and Ellie are off at the theatre watching Wilde’s latest play, whilst Litefoot begins his investigations into the mysterious ‘murders’.


What transpires involves an infinite library, a twist on Dorian’s portrait and Leela hoping the second act of Wilde’s play involves explosions.  It is glorious: Jago’s hero worship of Wilde contrasted with Litefoot’s distaste; a brilliant villain in Gad, an apparently young man going a little bit Magnus Greel on the young men of London; Leela’s and Ellie’s different reactions to Wilde’s play; Jago as staff; Quick in the thick of the action.  It hits all the right notes.

There’s even a bit more Colin Baker being all enigmatic as Claudius Dark (although not nearly enough).  There is also an all to brief appearance of Messrs Kempton and Hardwick.  I really like the performances of these two (Christopher Beeny and Mike Grady) and I am looking forward to them revealing themselves fully later in the series.  The rest of the cast of this story are exemplary with the two main guest stars, Alan Cox as Wilde and John Sackville, as the villain of the piece, Gad (there is a lovely piece of scripting where Jago uses the exclamation ‘Gad!’ and Gad himself answers putting Jago into a right old fluster).
Historically, Leela, Ellie and Jago go to see Wilde’s play, A Woman of No Importance.  As it is his ‘new’ play, this dates the story to 1893.  Wilde himself is played with a slight Irish lilt and a cynical edge and it is good to see him getting into the thick of the action (unlike in Dead Man’s Hand).  Celebrity authors in Doctor Who are not unusual, but it is refreshing for this adventure to take place AFTER Wilde has written The Picture of Dorian Gray so that there can be no ‘this was his real inspiration’ inference as there was with HG Wells or, to some extent, The Unquiet Dead.


Another historical aspect is the quiet suggestion as to why the men being sort-of killed by Gad are covering up their whereabouts.  Throughout the play I thought it was fairly obviously, but subtly played, that these men were gay and therefore their subterfuge was to hide this fact.  In an age when being homosexual was unacceptable, it adds a human dimension to the story.  The subtle inference that Litefoot may be homosexual himself (which I know has cropped up in fan discussions before now) is deftly played although I’d rather the script had left the inference about the men just as subtle rather than Litefoot having to spell it out for a naïve Jago.


On reflection, Beautiful Things may possibly be my favourite Jago and Litefoot story so far.  It plays all its elements well, the script sparkles and the cast is pitch perfect.  Within only a few scenes, I found my faith in the series restored and I am again looking forward to the rest of the stories.

The cover illustration is still bloody awful, though.