Nev Fountain’s creation, Mervyn Stone, makes his audio story debut in The Axeman Cometh. Mervyn is the world-weary former writer and script-editor of (fictional) eighties’ TV show, Vixens from the Void, which over the years has found a dedicated cult following. He's played by the note-perfect John Banks while Nicola Bryant shines as Vixens’ star and all-round diva Vanity Mycroft (with both actors also contributing a range of other characters). Mervyn has already appeared in a series of novels – Geek Tragedy, DVD Extras Include: Murder, and Cursed Among Sequels – working his way through scenarios familiar to fandom such as conventions, the recording of DVD commentaries, and attempts to revive cult shows. The Axeman Cometh shares a great many pleasures with the books: it allows the audience to spot parallels with real-life cult TV and its fans, and it positions Mervyn as an amateur detective sleuthing his way through cult telly-related crimes and dastardly deeds. On this occasion, Mervyn has become involved in writing for a fan-made audio version of Vixens from the Void, and so decides to attend the studio recording of his new story. But with so many egos cooped up in a confined space, there’s the potential for deadly geek drama.

The Axeman Cometh is almost audio à clef. There’s a self-obsessed TV executive who, back in the day, delighted in cancelling 1980s shows (Vixens from the Void among them), and there’s an oddball scriptwriting couple Dick and Dora who are renowned for turning in their scripts in double quick time. Hailing from a writer with Fountain’s background in comedy you’d expect this to be witty and sharp, which it most certainly is. But more than that, The Axeman Cometh revels joyously in its own form. It’s a mystery/detective story about the structure of detective stories and simultaneously a Big Finish audio about the creation of Big Finish audios (well, fan-produced continuations of beloved TV programmes, anyway). The audacity of track 14 has to be heard to be believed. Whatever you do, don’t skip ahead to this finale, because after The Axeman Cometh you might never think of audio dramas in quite the same way again.

Some of the script’s reference points are worn on its lycra-stretched Vixens’ sleeve. For instance, Mervyn draws our attention to possible similarities between the case he finds himself investigating and Hercule Poirot’s final case, Curtain. Listeners familiar with the full resonance of that statement might already be preparing themselves for a plot twist or two, but Fountain always remains several steps ahead of the game. Or he just goes ahead and plays a different game. Brilliantly. Either way, guessing the killer is a fiendishly tricky exercise. The (returning) fan characters producing this particular audio drama are dubbed ‘Speccy Derek’ and ‘Big-Nose Bob’, and their obsessive fixations are well pilloried. Perhaps the only down side to Mervyn’s world is that many of its gags hinge on assuming that fans are freakish, emotionally-stunted loons. It’s a well-worn trope, and I personally would’ve liked a little less of the ‘fanboys are weird’ stuff, even if Fountain adopts a similarly cynical view of media professionals, actors, and TV head-honchoes, filtering it all through Mervyn’s consciousness so that it’s clear we’re tackling a slightly skewed and crumpled viewpoint on the world.

It’s not often that a reviewer gets to say this, but my favourite things about this drama were probably its slightly more “clunky” moments – instants where you couldn’t help but feel ‘oh, that’s been shoe-horned in slightly’ or, ‘really? That seems implausible’. It’s a story that dares you to grumble about its finer points before fighting back against any potential criticism and winning the listener round with charm, cleverness and trickery. Indeed, there’s something very cathartic about the spurious morality confronted by Mervyn in this intricate tale where every detail matters.

Not content with inventing Vixens from the Void, Fountain also enjoys creating back stories for a few other cancelled TV shows such as Sunny Sayed Up (as I assume it must be written) and The Hairy Canaries – both of which involve some very broad stereotypes. But the tale of The Hairy Canaries and its hard-working acting community will strike a chord with those who remember the miner’s strike, while the villain of the piece is explicitly linked to Thatcherite policies. Despite all its real-world resonances and political references, this reminded me most of all of Fountain’s previous audio, Omega. That, too, capitalized on its nature as recorded sound to mislead and startle the listener, and it’s a trick pulled off just as deftly on this occasion. The Mervyn Stone Mysteries have been likened to Simon Brett’s work in the past, and The Axeman Cometh is playful, literary and 'meta' in the same moment that it palpably adores cult television. Postmodern? Perhaps. Above all, though, it's sheer good fun.

Given that over the past 15 years, Big Finish Productions has acquired the rights to do audio spin-offs of a variety of cult SF and fantasy TV programmes – Doctor Who, The Tomorrow People, Robin Hood, Dark Shadows, Highlander, even Stargate SG-1 and Stargate: Atlantis – it is a little surprising that it is only in the last year that the company has (finally) acquired the rights to Blake's 7.

Even then, the new adventures of Blake's crew have been largely limited to the first two volumes of The Liberator Chronicles, with some members of the original cast – Gareth Thomas (Blake), Paul Darrow (Avon), Michael Keating (Vila), Jan Chappell (Cally) and Jacqueline Pearce (Servalan) – performing two-hander narratives, either with each other or with another guest actor playing a completely new part. If long-suffering, diehard fans of the original series have wanted full-cast dramas with the Liberator crew (and not simply stories told by one of the crew), then they've had to console themselves with BF's supplementary range of B7 novels (The Forgotten and Archangel, to date).

In January, all that changed with the release of Warship, the first full-cast B7 audio released by Big Finish and the first story since the second series, in 1979, to feature members of the original cast (yes, if you want to be pedantic, there have been other full-cast audio iterations of B7 since the 1990s, produced by BBC Radio, Magic Bullet Productions and B7 Media respectively, but nonetheless, most of those productions could only muster some of the original cast or they recast the characters altogether).

All the aforementioned original actors return for Warship, along with Sally Knyvette reprising her role as feisty smuggler Jenna. Only sound guru Alistair Lock is the "odd one out", ably doubling as the voices of the Liberator's flight computer Zen and the supercilious computer Orac (parts originally played in the TV series by the late Peter Tuddenham; long-time fans of other B7 audio productions, though, will be aware that Lock also played Zen in the short-lived B7 Media audio revival a few years ago).

Warship is by far the best B7 audio that Big Finish has produced so far. As first-rate and as innovative as Big Finish is at doing two-hander plays, there is no substitute for a full-cast drama. Fuelled by one's own listening imagination, the solid writing by self-professed B7 fan Peter Anghelides, the zest of the original cast and Lock's sound design and incidental music (which recaptures the flavour of original composer Dudley Simpson), Warship is the closest thing we've had to a B7 TV episode in more than 30 years.

The "authenticity" of the story is further helped by its placement in the B7 canon. It neatly bridges the "gap", so to speak, between the second and third TV series. The second one ended on a cliffhanger, with the Liberator acting as the first line of defence against an extra-terrestrial invasion from outside Federation space. When the show resumed, the invasion had been repelled, the Federation had lost more than half of its forces in the war, and the Liberator crew was forced to temporarily abandon ship. Most importantly, the third series began with the loss of its titular character, with Blake going AWOL with little explanation (Thomas having departed the series) and Avon taking charge of the Liberator. Warship goes part of the way to explaining what happened in the interim.

To his credit, Anghelides doesn't just provide a filler between seasons. While it is a logical sequel or companion to second series finale Star One, he introduces enough new, fresh elements into the narrative to make it engaging and exciting while still keeping the writing tight. Warship has all the hallmarks of a studiobound B7 episode (the major setpiece being the Liberator itself), with the action played out mainly between the core characters. Anghelides, though, doesn't shy away from giving the story a celestial, expansive feel and his climax is of such Hollywood blockbuster-style proportions that it would have been well beyond the scope of a TV episode. (Well, the climax could – and probably would - have been attempted on TV but the result would have been decidedly shaky on a 1970s budget! Then again, I suspect even that may be a knowing wink on Anghelides' part!)

However, what makes Warship so successful is how much it feels like a B7 episode in its own right – and that would not have been possible without the inclusion of the original cast. Blake's 7 was so successful on TV because of its strong characterisation and ultimately it is the characters that bring the story to life.

It is a delight to hear all of the principal actors back in their roles and playing off each other. Anghelides can write all the clever one-liners he wants – but if Darrow and Keating, for example, aren't there to execute the delivery, then the battle is half-lost. This is something that is most noticeable in Big Finish's B7 novels – the wordplay between the characters is so flat in places that you realise just how integral the original actors are to making the lines sound right. Similarly, when B7 Media relaunched B7 a few years ago for audio with the characters recast, it was obvious – painfully so! – just how much the original actors had made the parts their own (for example, in the revamped version, Avon was portrayed by Colin Salmon, who did his best with that part but ultimately wasn't a patch on Darrow's acerbic wit).

The repartee between the characters in Warship is worthy of the original series, whether it be exchanges between Blake and Avon, Avon and Vila, Vila and Jenna, or even Cally and Servalan. Anghelides' dialogue, delivered perfectly by the cast, recaptures the dynamic of the original Liberator crew on TV. Although their voices may have become more seasoned with age, Thomas, Darrow, and Keating re-create their roles effortlessly and in turn reprise their on-screen chemistry – the Blake/Avon rivalry and the Avon/Vila double act – as if three decades have not elapsed at all. Even Cally and Jenna, who by the end of the second series had reverted to "housewife status" on the Liberator, get to say some of the best lines and earn their own slices of the action. In Warship, Knyvette and Chappell get the chance for redemption and take it with a vengeance (indeed, both actors discuss their relief at being given something positive to do in the supplementary documentary disc in this release). Although her part in the story is relatively minor, Pearce clearly relishes her lines as Servalan. Even in the face of mutually assured destruction, the listener is reminded of just how duplicitous and cunning Servalan was on TV. As mentioned earlier, Lock also does a creditable job as the ship's computers, recreating Orac's haughtiness - "Kindly do not interrupt while I am enumerating the possibilities!" – and Zen's bombastic, yet precise tones – "That information is not available."

Warship is a magnificent return to form for the Blake's 7 franchise; it has been well worth the wait after a couple of indifferent efforts on audio in a period spanning 17 years and some early workman-like efforts by Big Finish's Liberator Chronicles. Although Big Finish's immediate plans are to do a few more volumes of The Liberator Chronicles over the next 18 months, hopefully the positive reception that Warship has received since its release will convince BF that full-cast B7 audio dramas are the way of the future. There is really no reason why BF cannot follow its successful Doctor Who template of creating "event" box sets, such as the recent Dark Eyes and UNIT: Dominion. It's what the fans obviously want, but no doubt Cally's old Auron saying rings true here too: "Before you desire, you should deserve!" We'll obviously need to pledge our support with our purses first if we are to deserve at least one more full-cast narrative with the original B7 crew.

Believe it or not, season finales can have a whiff of the undead about them - if a writer manages to get it right, then there's continual life evident for the show, but if they get it wrong, then equally that failure will inevitably keep coming back to haunt them. Judging by the uneven nature of the first two instalments of In The Flesh - episode one mediocre at best and episode two being good rather than great - the situation for the show's climax could have gone either way, yet thankfully the outcome has turned out for the better. This is unlikely to be anyone's personal pick for "Best TV Drama Of 2013", but there's certainly a marked improvement to leave a satisfying legacy here.

As difficult as it is to "point fingers", as it were, one inevitable contributory factor to the rise in quality has to be the early departure of Emily Bevan's Amy from the equation. Kieren's hunting partner was a rather irritating echo of Being Human's B-list guest characters last week, so for Amy Dyer to at least have a valiant departure in her journey to brighter pastures new was a neat resolution for Bevan's character. Perhaps some viewers would have preferred Amy to have had a more influential role in the proceedings of this episode - quite honestly, though, with everything going on in this breathtaking hour of drama, this reviewer feels that she could easily have been a detrimental distraction.

That's not to say that only the numerous characters who were written out in this final episode allowed for strong cast performances, however. There was always potential for Luke Newberry's protagonist Kieren to develop into a character of immense pathos and intellect, and writer Dominic Mitchell finally allowed Newberry this triumphant portrayal here. The performance was aided in no small measure by Harriet Cains' Jem Walker - whereas Jem proved to be a downright unrealistic narrative construct in the first two episodes, here her eventual familial instinct to protect those closest to her ensured that she became a far more compelling character. Everyone has a sibling relationship of some kind like Kieren and Jem's in their lives these days, be it through blood or work, so it became far easier to empathise with the actions of the younger of the two Walker teens this time around, again thanks to Mitchell placing compelling moral dilemmas right at the viewer's doorstep.

The episode's narrative was certainly more refined than its predecessors too. Whereas episodes one and two were at times layered in structural and emotional clichès that could often become tedious to watch play out again, this finale played on the viewers' expectations in far more innovative ways. Sure, most viewers would have seen Rick's heroic dismissal of his father's antagonism towards "rotters" coming, yet it seems safe to say that the portrayal of his father has been unpredictable enough that it wasn't clear what his next action would be. Of course, perhaps it was inevitable that the man who helped gun down an elderly lady in cold blood simply on the basis of her PDS condition would turn on anyone, regardless of their relationship to him, although that doesn't make Rick's demise and the reaction Kieren takes to it any less effective.

One wonders if Mitchell could have taken the drama one step further and had Kieren commit suicide once more to seal the deal for good, but that would perhaps have been a step too far, venturing into King Lear territory of murderous onslaught on the writer's part. Some shows have tried such violent finales in the past, and often the result has been something of a colossal backfire. Nevertheless, the brave return of The Royle Family's Ricky Tomlinson as Ken in revenge for his deceased wife was an effective narrative ploy that served the under-used actor well, again providing dignified and bold closure for a layered character.

Indeed, closure seems to naturally be at the heart of this final episode of In The Flesh. On a few rare occasions, that does work to the episode's detriment, so far as that particularly Kieren's mother Sue and his sister Jem only get a meaningful conclusion to their character arcs to a certain extent, merely reconciling with Kieren back at the house before Rick's funeral. Maybe it would have been impossible for Mitchell to give every one of his constructs the proper send-offs they deserved in the course of the final 15 minutes or so, yet those two just stood out as particularly strange omissions for me.

At the time of writing, this reviewer has yet to hear whether more of the show has been commissioned for broadcast in 2014, but judging by the silent and melancholic climactic shots of this conclusion, there’s a strong chance that the road will end here. If that is to be the case, then it's at least highly reassuring that we've concluded on such a high note in comparison to the quality level at which the season began. Over the course of these three weeks, BBC Three's latest supernatural drama has slowly but surely developed into a compelling series which at its end came close to rivalling even Being Human. A fortnight ago, I could never have predicted making such a positive statement regarding an episode of the show, yet I'm glad I stayed along for the ride throughout, given the fantastic pay-off.

Should the BBC elect to give us more In The Flesh, then this reviewer can happily confirm he'll be back without question to see it through its next season. Episode three was a stunning conclusion that packed just a few bare gripes, and such minor shortcomings that it feels almost churlish to pick up on them in comparison to the missteps the original episode made. It's the quintessentially British cast of little-known actors, the diverse direction, the domestic-yet-effective narratives and all the little inert charms of In The Flesh that eventually made it such a prime example of the potential for BBC Three as a channel. If we get anything more from the channel along these lines before 2013's out, then the Beeb may have to start reconsidering the areas to which it assigns its tight budget . . .

After a rather rocky start with its premiere episode last week, In The Flesh had a difficult job ahead of it convincing this reviewer to maintain interest in its second instalment. Thankfully, there's a lot of fresh material with compelling emotional dilemmas posed to the viewer in episode two. Far from recycling many of the tried-and-tested concepts of reintegration as the first episode did, this second outing proved far more convincing in its portrayal of the consequences of being undead.

The introduction of partially-alive army veteran Rick (David Walmsley) into the fold at Roarton was certainly a major contributory factor to the success of this week's episode. Indeed, Walmsley brought us perhaps the most realistic depiction of a human being's reactions to life beyond death out of the three lead stars, with Luke Newberry's Kieren and to some extent Emily Bevan's Amy appearing far more like broad stereotypical "zombies" in comparison. Viewers with relatives in the armed forces were certainly forced to contemplate how they themselves would react to such a revelation as Rick's partial survival, and pursuing this avenue inevitably meant that writer Dominic Mitchell struck stronger quality territory than anything referenced last week.

On top of that, the increased focus on those PDS sufferers still infected with the rabid nature of the 2009 riots enhanced the compelling narrative on show here. At first, it seemed as if we were just about to get yet another Dawn Of The Dead and 28 Days Later-esque portrayal of mindless, corrupt beasts in the zombies who sheltered in the woods, yet once the hunting team from Roarton appeared to dispatch these undead nightmares, things took a very interesting turn for the more diverse. Perhaps it was a tad obvious that Kieren would end up placing himself between Rick's rifle and the innocent infected child, but there was plenty of dramatic effect when young adult viewers were forced to consider what their own reaction would have been in such a harrowing situation.

Despite those narrative and character improvements for In The Flesh, though, there were still a number of crucial elements that worked to the episode's detriment. First and foremost, the appearance of Kieren's old hunting partner Amy Dyer onto the scene wasn't quite used to its fullest potential. Bevan's portrayal of the character felt over-exaggerated and thus unrealistic at best, and at worst the portrayal mirrored the nature of the character, feeling like a tiresome and needless inclusion in both Kieren's life and, indeed, the episode as a whole. It didn't help, either, that Harriet Cains wasn't on strong form as Kieren's sister Jem - while the antagonism that the character shows towards someone she truly believed dead is realistic to an extent, the lack of any meaningful confrontation in the Walker family to explain the effect that Kieren's demise has truly had meant that Jem's role here felt forced and unwarranted.

However, worse than those cast missteps was the general sense that there's still little in the way of a driving force for the show. Sure, we had a few more interesting developments in the story arc this week, and some smaller moments such as Ken's silent, depressive stare from the window of his home after his wife's murder were handled beautifully, but they didn't compensate enough for the fact that next week's finale will either have too much content to cover in an hour or will leave everything feeling rather unfinished. Perhaps the BBC has already covertly commissioned a second season of In The Flesh to allow more space for creative scope and further moral dilemmas, yet that seems quite a hopeful assumption to make in light of the scrapping of quality supernatural drama Being Human from BBC Three's future drama roster.

Indeed, it's difficult to know whether to leave the proverbial elephant-ghost in the room alone now, because time and time again, when it comes to evaluating the success of In The Flesh, there's a lingering sense that the fifth and final season of Toby Whithouse's finest drama that preceded this was far stronger in every sense. Were this quality margin to have been created by the fact that Being Human was further along the line, then it might be forgivable, yet really it boils down to the fact that the cast and narratives we're seeing here feel bare and insubstantial compared even with the opening season of the adventures at Honolulu Heights. Boy, did the first run of instalments for Mitchell, George, and Annie have its fair share of missteps along the way, yet it remained a consistently charming and lovable series throughout, and that sense of innovation and charm feels worryingly absent in the case of this would-be successor.

Make no mistake - In The Flesh's second episode was leaps and bounds ahead of its immediate predecessor in just about every department, which was at least a pleasant surprise. Nevertheless, there's still plenty of work to be done if the writer and his production team want their finale to leave anywhere near the kind of satisfying legacy that Being Human did. Perhaps the miracle will occur, perhaps not - either way, this reviewer can credit episode two with being a compelling-enough watch to prompt followers to stay tuned for the final episode.

For what it’s worth, the BBC could be quite easily seen as rubbing salt in the wound for Being Human fans with In The Flesh, a budding supernatural drama broadcast over three Sundays this month to replace the Toby Whithouse-shaped, self-inflicted hole in BBC3’s post-watershed schedules. All the same, those more optimistic viewers amongst us who were open to giving this new drama a chance were in for quite a pleasant surprise on March 17th with a consistent opening instalment.

You’d have been forgiven for thinking this to be yet another under-budgeted and thus unambitious drama outing from BBC3, at least in the opening scenes at the partially-deceased institution. There was a worrying sense of identikit repetition in the set locales of this ‘zombie hospital’ that seemed to echo many of the filming locations of past shows such as The Fades which fell under the radar, and the age-old dramatic trait of opening the episode with a psychiatrist interview didn’t help, coming off as more of a faulty parody of Skyfall’s opening sequences than anything else. Once Luke Newberry’s empathetic undead protagonist Kieren departed the confines of the hospital with his folks, though, the episode began to venture into unexpected territory of a far higher televisual quality.

Part of what improved as the hour progressed was undoubtedly the character relationships explored by the script. Harriet Cains is a relative newcomer onto the scene, but as Kieren’s sister Jem she provided us with plenty of engaging material with a character whose loyalties are clearly divided by the knowledge of her brother’s suicide and an implied relationship with an Afghanistan soldier who Kieren convinced to fight on the battlefield. Visualising the concept of what would happen if someone returned from the brink of death to witness the consequences of their demise was likely the most attractive prospect of In The Flesh for the BBC, and if the writers of the show can continue to develop this emotional narrative arc in its remaining two instalments, then there’s plenty of potential for this series to progress into truly compelling viewing.

It’s a shame that a decent number of the cast don’t provide such solid performances as Cains, though. Ricky Tomlinson was clearly drafted over from his yearly appearances on the rapidly decaying The Royle Family Christmas specials, but his portrayal of a townsman who initially advocates the PDS system yet is revealed as hiding a dark secret is varied, not as a result of cunning scripting, rather due to the star’s seeming inability to maintain any focus on a layered emotional stance. This reviewer can handle a layered performance for a secretive character- Ewan McGregor’s role in the 2009 Dan Brown film adaptation Angels And Demons was a quintessential example of that- yet that honour doesn’t apply to Tomlinson’s role here. Marie Critchley and Steve Cooper aren’t exactly the world’s most realistic parents to Kieren here either, even if the situation the Walker family has found itself in is a rather unique one.

What’s perhaps most effective in Episode One is its rather gripping final set-piece. A thrilling twist on the domestic drama of the past hour, the moment when one of Roartan’s most loyal residents is revealed to be a member of the undead clan, only to have her brain matter promptly separated from the rest of her head, is extremely emotive for the viewer. Quickly, the second half of this opener hones in on the unnerving feeling of breached sanctity for Kieren, and again should this become a point of focus in the remaining two instalments then the series as a whole might leave a stronger final impact. Right now, writer Dominic Mitchell and director Jonny Campbell are simply treading the dangerous waters of decent fantasy drama when in reality, to have any hope of being recommissioned this show needs to inhabit a realm of television far greater than where it currently resides.

Let’s not end on a bitter note, though. In The Flesh at least has kicked off with a compelling first instalment, even if as a first episode it has little in the way of thrilling content to match what Being Human gave us in its final season premiere back in January. BBC3 are undoubtedly banking on this quite ambitious show as being their next ‘big thing’, and there’s certainly potential here for the cast to break through to just that scale of success. If the weight and gravitas of the dystopian-esque storylines can be furthered to a point of genuine thrills, then there’s a lot of hope for In The Flesh. If not, then Episode One can at worst be thought of as a less-than-mediocre way to spend one’s time on a Sunday evening.

It could have all gone so wrong. Even equipped with the disheartening knowledge that his show wouldn't return after this year, writing a meaningful final season and indeed overall finale for Being Human couldn't have been a simple prospect for Toby Whithouse. We only need to look at the divisive nature of Merlin's final episodes that aired over Christmas, sticking to their established Arthurian lore to the point of pure anger from fans demanding a positive conclusion, to get a glimpse of the kind of pitfalls that can surround a modern drama's climactic moments.

Yet just as Whithouse, his production team, and the cast defied this reviewer's expectations with a truly sensational return to form in the season premiere, a host of varied and mostly innovative episodes - and above all, a brilliant Trinity ensemble to replace the original trio of Annie, Mitchell, and George - with The Last Broadcast they have once again managed to beat the odds and create a virtually perfect climax to this five-year saga. It's difficult to imagine a more confident and successful end than this, and given the missteps that this BBC3 supernatural drama has made on occasion along the way, that's a staggering achievement.

Rather than entering into an investigation of the proverbial Satantic elephant in the room at the end of this review, it's better to deal with it right from the off. Yes, Whithouse cunningly riffed on none other than Christopher Nolan's Inception with the ambitious narrative of this instalment, playing with the perception of the characters and their situation on the part of the viewer in a manner that few could have anticipated. The final shot that pans to recap memorable iconography from the last five years, property of the original trio included, is beautifully handled, yet it's with the reprisal of the origami "wolf" motif from Tom's dreams that infers a darker fate for the Trinity than what's presented at surface level. Did Alex, Hal, and Tom really defeat Hatch, or did the century-old vampire give the game away to his greatest foe when he scoffed at the "mistake" that the Devil had made in his offers?

In many ways, it would be pointless to start such a debate again here, as I'm sure that fans already have their own take on the matter. It's this ambiguity, though, this uncertain epitaph to a constantly expectation-defying show that makes its denouement such a ground-breaking success for the drama genre. It would have been easy enough for Whithouse to settle with a definitive sense of closure as did Merlin, Robin Hood, and other recent BBC dramas to mixed results, so this decision is to my mind a far more bold and creative approach that other production teams should take heed of in the near future.

This wasn't the only strength of Broadcast though, quite the opposite. In fact, there were few overall limits to the quality of this masterpiece of a finale. Every member of the cast was once again on staggering form, with Kate Bracken, Damien Molony, and Michael Socha all shining as per usual at the helm, along with Phil Davis's crazed yet calculating Hatch and Stephen Robertson's resigned yet (seemingly) redeemed Mr Rook holding their own magnificently. The surprise of returning appearances from Ellie Kendrick as Allison and Gordon Kennedy as Alex's dad was certainly a welcome one too, solidifying the power of nostalgic odes to days gone by for this half-decade-spanning series.

The narrative structure itself was another masterstroke in Whithouse's strive to defy the expectations of the viewer here. Again, it would have been all too easy for Being Human's executive producer to simply spend 50 minutes with Alex and Tom attempting to redeem Hal before an inevitable confrontation with the Devil that placed the "good guys" on the top of the podium once more, and thus the writer's choice to spend over half the running time (or three-quarters, depending on the viewer's response to the final shot) in the dreams and past lives of the Trinity worked wonders. Perhaps this approach was meant as a testament to the quirky and off-the-wall nature of the show as a whole, or perhaps it was simply employed by Whithouse as a get-out clause from a straight action-packed finale - indeed, the strains on BBC Three's budget were plain to see in one of the most calm and insubstantial portrayals of the apocalypse yet. Either way, this manner of presenting the conclusion was just as daring as any of the show's other recent twists, and this reviewer hopes that the forthcoming new BBC Three fantasy drama In The Flesh attempts to shock and defy expectations to a similar degree.

Of course, in mentioning the channel's next attempt to tackle fantasy drama, set to broadcast its first episode next Sunday in the same timeslot, I've reached the inevitable loss that BBC Three has forced upon itself by cancelling Being Human. In spite of some of the growing pains and transitional difficulties that have faced it during its five years on air, Whithouse's most ambitious series has become a true cult hit with its growing fan base, and its absence from the TV schedules come 2014 will be one I reckon will hit the channel harder than it can possibly imagine. Recent cult successes such as The Fades and Doctor Who Confidential suffered much the same fate at the hands of BBC Three controller Zai Bennett and the channel's other execs, with immediate fan backlash in both departments likely causing more harm to BBC Three's reputation than was thought probable, a turn of events that is likely to repeat itself in this instance and certainly won't leave the head honchos with much of a leg to stand on at this point.

Let's not conclude on a bitter note, though. By informing Whithouse of its decision to axe Being Human before he began writing the fifth season, the BBC at least gave this talented sci-fi and fantasy writer the chance to pen the perfect conclusion to his half-decade pet project. Through the years we've followed Mitchell, George, Annie, Hal, Tom, and Alex on their adventures, a journey that this reviewer can safely say has been an especially worthwhile and rewarding one for those viewers who got hooked in its early stages. There will always be a sense of bitter-sweet melancholy surrounding the trail of thought on what Being Human could have become in one such “"alternative" world (as Hatch named those dream spaces) where The Last Broadcast wasn't the end. However, to spend our time lamenting BBC Drama's latest gross financial mistake would be to do a disservice to those dedicated actors, writers, and producers who have spent five years making the world of Sunday-night entertainment a better place, more than predictable period dramas such as Call The Midwife and Mr Selfridge ever could.

Few dramas these days manage to curtail their final season with such vigour, such aplomb, and such enthusiasm surrounding their central cast and arc narratives - in that respect, we as fans can remain ever grateful to Whithouse and the production team for providing a fittingly ambiguous denouement to leave that much-needed impactful legacy for The Greater Good. To paraphrase a certain Girl Who Waited, this was the spell-binding story of Being Human, and The Last Broadcast was how it ended.