“You must think I’m as stupid as I look!”
Vila Restal, Cold Fury

Although it began with a bit of a misfire (with the opening instalment Fractures), Big Finish’s first micro-season of Blake’s 7 full cast audio dramas has for the most part delivered some strong, exciting storylines. The six episodes have all strongly evoked the spirit of the original TV series, especially of the time frame in which they are set (midway through B7’s second series) yet Big Finish’s stable of writers have not shied away from experimenting with the key characters and even testing the program’s conventions.

We’ve already seen from this “season within a season” that the Liberator is indeed an extraordinary ship, that supercomputer Orac (voiced by Alistair Lock) is more conniving than we’d previously thought and that the relationship between Blake (Gareth Thomas) and his crew is more delicate than was hinted at on TV (yes, Blake and Avon, again portrayed in these audios by Paul Darrow, were by the end of the second season at loggerheads but it was not as evident that Jenna and Cally, played again by Sally Knyvette and Jan Chappell, could be just as rebellious). The stakes for the crew hit standard by ten with the final two instalments Cold Fury and Caged.

In the cliffhanger to the previous instalment Mirror, Vila (Michael Keating) was a captive of Blake’s arch nemesis Space Commander Travis (Brian Croucher). In Cold Fury, the Liberator crew is led to the icy world of Horst Minor in search of their comrade – only to fall into an elaborate trap which sets the scene for a confrontation in Caged between Blake and not just Travis but an unconventional, wily foe in the form of the Terran Federation President.

In the B7 TV series, the Federation President was mentioned in dialogue but never appeared on screen. It was revealed on television that he was the mastermind behind the manufacture of the illicit narcotic Shadow (and therefore controlled both sides of the law absolutely - the Federation and its criminal underground). By season’s end, this mysterious figure was deposed and replaced by Supreme Commander Servalan. With Jacqueline Pearce unable to reprise Servalan in this series of plays, the President, played by Hugh Fraser, finally steps into the limelight and proves to be an excellent foil for Blake and his crew. Fraser’s portrayal as the still anonymous President (we never learn his name) is outstanding – and in turn steals the acting honours from the regular cast.

The President for the most part encapsulates composure in contrast to the ever impatient and zealous Blake and the brutish yet obtuse Travis. On the surface, he is an intelligent, refined man who exudes self-confidence and enjoys the trappings of luxury, including fine wine, food and women. At one point, the President even remarks that “You rebels are just so angsty!” – as if he cannot truly understand why Blake and his crew are waging a campaign of rebellion against him! It is particularly bizarre at one point in Caged to hear the President and Blake debating the merits of the latter’s campaign against the Federation as part of a casual dinner side chat, not exchanging blaster fire at 20 paces – but it reflects an adversary that is completely self-assured and has come to believe in his own invulnerability.

However, even after this two-parter, it is still hard to entirely get a handle on who the President is. It is clear that he is a puppet master and a schemer. What is not so clear is the darker side alluded to in his character – in Cold Fury, it seems the President has no qualms resorting to bloodshed if it will achieve his ends and he also displays bouts of paranoia (granted, there is an explanation for this apparent instability but to reveal that here would be a major plot spoiler!). Also, if the President is so omnipresent (as these episodes suggest), then how does Servalan manage to oust him at all? Nevertheless, you don’t really come away from these episodes with a sense that you know the President any better than Blake and his crew do – and I suspect that is a very deliberate tactic by writers Cavan Scott and Mark Wright. Fraser’s performance is memorable and it would be a pity if Big Finish does not revive the character in future B7 instalments.

The other standout performance in Cold Fury and Caged belongs to Michael Keating as Vila. After Jenna and Cally’s rebellious streaks in Mirror, it is Vila’s turn to surprise. Indeed, his whole loyalty to the crew is thrown into question – and Keating embraces this apparent turnabout in his character with relish, finally dishing it back to his comrades for failing to take him seriously (“Jenna, I’ve wanted to say this for a long time – shut up!”). The exchanges between Vila and Travis in Cold Fury are quite compelling as the jailer manipulates his prisoner through a combination of drugs and persuasion.

What isn’t so convincing, despite Keating’s performance, is Vila’s eventual return to the fold. Cally senses the confusion in Vila’s mind at the start of Caged – but by the end of the serial we are expected to believe that it has all been a complex ruse and that the crew will reluctantly (if not gladly) welcome him home. Scott and Wright in the CD extras at the end of Caged argue that this illustrates how canny Vila is and that B7’s heroes and villains too often underestimate him. Be that as it may, Vila’s behaviour lacks plausibility, especially as it underpins the whole story. Scott and Wright even clumsily try to explain away Vila’s justification by tying it back to events in the B7 Season 1 episode Bounty. Needless to say, that just implies that the events in Big Finish’s dramas are meant to take place in the same universe – but it doesn’t necessarily make Vila’s motives any more credible.

This gripe aside, the two episodes as a whole are impressive, thanks to the performers, sound effects and incidental music which successfully convey the environments portrayed in the stories, eg the howling winds of Horst Minor, transmissions from the Liberator to Federation pursuit ships, the docking of the Liberator in the Federation’s Cage. B7 as a TV series relied more often than not on music, sound effects and the power of well written dialogue to give its limited model effects and dodgy sets and costumes conviction. The program’s format therefore makes it ideal for audio where by the same token it is possible to evoke travels through deep space in the form of communications between vessels and to convey torture and conditioning through defiant dialogue and supporting sound effects – all without being undermined by the accompanying visuals.

As with the earlier instalments in this micro-series, the performances of the cast members, coupled with dialogue, music and sound effects, help to ground Cold Fury and Caged ostensibly in the era in which they are meant to be set. Avon’s taciturn ripostes, Blake’s zeal and fortitude, Orac’s over-inflated sense of self, Jenna’s coolness under pressure, Cally’s comforting tones and Vila’s humour all help to create the illusion that these could be recordings of recently recovered B7 episodes that have gathered dust in the BBC archives.

Cold Fury and Caged provide an entertaining and mostly satisfactory conclusion to Big Finish’s first season of full cast Blake’s 7 audio adventures. Although Big Finish are working within the tight confines of the TV program’s continuity and are planning to set the second series with the Liberator crew post-Star One, I would welcome more opportunities to hear the original cast in future audio adventures – and for a rematch with Hugh Fraser’s Federation President no less.

6 - The Laws of Gods and Men/ 7 - Mockingbird/ 8 - The Mountain and the Viper

''If you want justice you have come to the wrong place'. Tyrion Lannister addressing Prince Oberyn Martell.

Tyrion is caught between a rock and a hard place and events only further decline for the diminutive quipster in these three segments of the epic fantasy adaptation. Outside the confines of King's Landing, quite a few other events play out in the wake of the Battle of Black Water Bay and The Red Wedding; as the denizens of Westeros struggle to adjust.

A lot of ground is covered in episode six, progressing various notable storylines. Since his heavy loss in attempting to capture King's Landing, Stannis Barratheon has been licking his wounds. Now he seeks new provisions and capital via the bank of Braavos (featuring a typically memorable cameo from Mark Gatiss). Having mentioned Braavos before, as well as featuring several characters from there, the show now transports the viewer properly. Another bonus is that loveable rogue Salladhor Saan briefly returns - still as shameless and promiscuous in lifestyle as ever.

Then the long-awaited reappearance of Yara features as she attempts rescuing Theon/Reek from his captors. However she is simply too late to connect with any remnants of the brother she once knew - he denounces her as a mirage and so she leaves empty handed. There is a rather curious moment where a bare-chested Ramsey turns his back on Yara and threatens to unleash his wild dogs. It strains credibility and indeed overall the set-piece is rather redundant.

Across the Narrow Sea we catch up with the latest challenges facing Daenerys as she tries to preside over her subjects in Meereen. She must accept that her dragons are regarded as being loose cannons and even her crucifixions of the seemingly malicious slave-masters is not met with universal acclaim.

Before Tyrion can face his long-dreaded trial some interesting political machinations appear on-screen first. Varys, who has been inactive for much of the season, tells Oberyn how his lack of romantic desires - even pre-castration - allowed him to focus on bettering himself in the wider scheme of things. Then there is a small council scene featuring Tywin, Pycelle, Mace Tyrell, and Cersei - along with Varys and Oberyn. Welcome mention is made of Daenerys, and also of the Hound being a rogue element since Blackwater. There is also a reminder of Jorah spying on his Khaleesi for the late King Robert which becomes important eventually.

At last former 'Hand' Tyrion is brought into the courtroom bound in chains but appearing to not be one to meekly accept a sad demise. He is formally charged with regicide and must accept his own father is doing his best to make the trial damning for him. Nonetheless he cross-examines Ser Meryn on his evidence but is told to maintain silence by Tywin. Later on he requests just the one question of Varys concerning a conversation they had. The answer perhaps is a rather neutral one but Tyrion can't blame the eunuch for looking out for his own interests first. However the testimony of Tyrion's unhinged sister Cersei certainly is ominous. Tyrion is portrayed as malicious in his method of defending King's Landing from Stannis' forces. The actual facts cannot be disputed. He placed Joffrey at the vanguard of the city's defence - having previously told the Queen Regent that her 'joy will turn to ashes in [her] mouth'. Of course we all know how boisterously Tyrion's nephew declared his intentions of cutting Stannis down personally, but that is glossed over.

There appears some hope for Tyrion when before final proceedings he has Jaime visit his cell with a potential compromise: Jaime will leave the Kings-Guard and resume his status as heir to Tywin, and in return Tyrion can be granted banishment to the Wall for admitting his 'guilt'. However, what seemed like an 'out' for the defendant is dashed to the rocks when Shae of all people sells him out - and also demeans their truly heartfelt romance.

This leads to possibly the best ever speech in a show full of quotable material. Peter Dinklage has not been called upon to do his very best work more recently, but the brazen confession of 'being a dwarf' and declaring his right to trial by combat is truly majestic. Fans of the show are all too sympathetic with Tyrion for brilliantly outwitting Stannis in combat and can only smile when he unleashes a terrific insult towards the city's inhabitants wishing that they perished after all.

**

'Mockingbird' is the very best episode all-round this season; featuring first-rate acting and character development.

Tyrion receives a trio of significant visitors who each care for him to some degree: his older brother, then Bronn and finally the effervescent Prince Oberyn. This is his time of greatest need for someone to lift his spirits and these scenes are very intimate and moving for such an epic fantasy show, 'Thrones' doesn't always require money to be put up on the screen for it to cast its spell on the audience.

It is clearly established that despite their firm friendship Bronn ultimately sees the status quo as a Lannister providing him money (and a title) for personal protection. In that regard Tyrion has never taken a risk that compares enough to facing the Mountain. Despite this disappointing and inevitable confirmation, there are no grudges between the two. However were Tyrion to survives into season five there is a sense that these two characters have come to a parting of the ways.

Cersei -typically immoral - forces peasants to try and fight the Mountain to the death with the odds firmly stacked against them. He is a remorseless titan who cannot be brought down with conventional swords or punches, and effortlessly rips the smaller men with his blade. Gregor has been recast twice now but still is an imposing figure that will prove difficult to best to 'prove' Tyrion's innocence. Thus when Oberyn tells Tyrion of his own sense of loss and how he seeks retribution for Gregor' Clegane's murder of Elia Martell and her children the audience is thoroughly spell-bound by the determination of a clear underdog who just oozes personality.


There is a fine section featuring Brienne and Podrick as they continue to bond together. They meet Hot Pie - who previously travelled with Arya Stark - and happens to mention his friend when being told of the search for Sansa Lannister. Brienne has not forgotten her promise to the late Catelyn, who wanted both daughters to come 'home.' A little later on the duo are back to following the trail and there is good character development as Pod's more practical and analytical qualities emerge. He identifies the Eyrie stronghold as the likely place Arya would head and Sansa may also be finding refuge in.

Indeed the Littlefinger/Sansa storyline is developed strongly once again and another relative/ally of the Stark household is silenced forever. Excellent visual work showcases Robin Arryn, Sansa Lannister and Littlefinger congregating in the snowy Eyrie courtyard. Despite having to grow up fast since her betrothal to Joffrey, Sansa still has a childish side to her as she constructs a striking 'snow-castle'. There is a hint of stability in Robin as he enquires about his cousin's handiwork.. until the spoilt and maniacal persona takes full force. He spits out all his dark obsessions about killing people he dislikes through the 'Moon Door' and proceeds to obliterate the snow-castle before stomping off.

Almost immediately Littlefinger provides his brand of comfort'. He kisses Sansa full-on knowing that Lysa is bound to see him, and is rather creepy - more so having called out the word 'children' moments earlier. Littlefinger is one of the smarter villains of the show; he can be as influential as even the most shrewd monarch or regent, despite his lowly roots. Yet he also avoid the spotlight and can stand back as major events envelop the relevant areas of the globe.

In the event it is Lysa that falls prey to the Eyrie's most rapid method of reaching 'ground level'. Littlefinger has secured his position of Lord by marrying and bedding her and now can actually enjoy himself. The climax to 'Mockingbird' features Littlefinger step into the fray as Lysa accuses Sansa of going after her man and threatens her with the full meaning of falling outside. Baelish first reassures Lysa that all is well in their marriage, before crushing her ego by declaring he only ever loved Catelyn. The final push of Lady Arryn to her certain death is treated as a mere formality, and no doubt many viewers cannot help a feeling of 'Schadenfreude'.

The Hound/Arya 'teamup' continues to be supremely enjoyable. Once again longer term continuity is relevant as Rorge and Biter - former prisoners of Yoren - resurface with malicious intent. Sandor Clegane suffers a neck wound, but is still more than a match for his assailant Biter - breaking that neck clean through. Rorge is not the first grown man to underestimate Arya, and pays the price for cruel threat made some time ago; facing the 'pointy end' of Needle. These events are engaging and also make the earlier episode's Small Council meeting doubly effective. Clegane faces steeper odds of living on as a renegade. He doesn't help matters by refusing to have his neck wound cauterised by Arya - such is his vanity.

**

The eighth installment is somewhat weaker independently. Certain subplots have little relevance overall, and I will not mention them here. Nonetheless the payoff for all the talky scenes is more than satisfying enough. The fallout of Lysa's death is well handed as Sansa places her trust in Baelish and makes him out to be an unwilling witness to Lysa's 'suicide'. Three important nobles with ties to Lysa hold an inquest into what exactly happened, they being Yohn Royce, Anya Waynwood and Vance Corbray. Strong acting helps make these scenes work, as in lesser hands things would feel rather stagey. Littlefinger is the person who gets 'grilled' but Sansa expertly defends him by blending some truth with a selective portrayal of Lysa's irrationality. Now it is obvious that Sansa is a willing player of the game, and will seek further advice from Littlefinger.

The effect of Lysa's 'suicide' also leads to a moment of humour when the younger Stark daughter laughs at the bad luck of hearing of her aunt's death before she and Clegane could claim refuge. Rather oddly it would appear that the two sisters are to miss meeting each other - an echo of the Bran/ Jon Snow 'near-misses'. Then a rather eyebrow-raising moment features Sansa casting aside her dowdy and innocent image by dressing in black clothes that are borderline-risqué, yet complement Baelish's attire as they walk down some steps together.

Although Theon Greyjoy fell down a slippery slope making redemption near-impossible the saga has made him into a tragic and pitiful protagonist with a major part left to play. The systematic emasculation - in all senses - of last year has paved the way for a shell of a man who is now an agent of the vicious Boltons. Dark humour sees Theon imploring his fellow Iron Islanders to surrender peacefully from their base of Moat Cailin. Of course there is no mercy from sociopath Ramsey and the bastard of Roose gleefully reminds Theon of 'tradition' as he pokes one of the dead flayed soldiers in the chest.

For those viewers that grew to like Ygritte as she bonded with Jon and later spared him from fatal harm, recent events have perhaps portrayed her as rather cold-blooded. Again chaos ensues as the workers and clients of a brothel/ pub are attacked by her core group of Wildlings and the Thenns. Nonetheless Ygritte shows spares a single mother and baby. We of course know these two survivors - they are Gilly and the infant she conceived with Craster. Sam's carelessness in depositing his female friend will not be punished on this occasion and one wonders where next Gilly will reappear.

Although I have mixed feelings about the Daenerys storyline I will praise the long-running dynamic between her and Jorah. Despite all Mormont's best efforts in trying to get her to reciprocate his feelings for her, he will always simply be an 'uncle figure'. But now comeuppance for lying to her has arrived, with a pardon-scroll from the late Robert Barretheon reaching Meereen - and Selmy has intercepted it first. Barristan Selmy allows Jorah to prepare for the inevitable by giving him notice of the truth being divulged to Dany. In the event the queen chooses to banish Mormont instead of executing him. The sequence as he departs the city into the unknown is suitably disheartening, not least because Iain Glen is a classy actor.
As Jaime comes to see Tyrion potentially one last time, the younger of the brothers reveals his regret in making his rather impulsive decision. Although Oberyn has a just cause and a reputation for fighting smart and decisively the odds seem poor. Then a rather unexpected conversation ensues where the brothers' late relative Orson is mentioned - unsurprisingly he was yet another sadist who smashed beetles for fun. This conversation threatens to slow the episode down, yet it demonstrates the show's willingness to portray the unusual bond between two very different Lannisters.


Martell prepares himself for the deadly fight, rather bizarrely choosing to wear minimal armour, eschew a helmet, and take a good gulp of wine. Tyrion is petrified and yet the opening events would seem to point to an 'innocent' verdict. The well-staged fight simplifies the original book-version somewhat but works perfectly for television - with good reaction shots of those either supporting 'Viper' or 'Mountain'. Just as it seems that the ogreish Mountain is beaten, 'Game of Thrones' reminds us that likeable and/or charismatic characters are still mortal. By standing alongside his fallen and impaled opponent, the 'Viper' allows himself to be brought down suddenly and lose his teeth and eyes before having his head crushed in a horrendous manner. To add further dismay, Clegane makes it clear that he knew who Oberyn was after all and that he enjoyed committing rape and murder. Although the Mountain is close to death himself, Oberyn perished first. Tyrion is now facing imminent execution - but the camera lingers on Jaime looking thoughtful, perhaps hinting at another way out...

The final two episodes of the show will continue to feature the myriad other storylines - including the Bran subplot which has been put to one side for a while now. Having now seemingly played out the bulk of major developments in King's Landing this very impressive epic now has a sizeable task on its hands to do something with the Wildlings/Night's Watch plot thread which has brewed steadily for over two series now. Based on the consistent quality of the eight episodes in this current run, I think I am not alone in being confident about the execution.

In spite of the various risks involved with extending the length of its run second time around, In the Flesh still managed to flourish during the opening two instalments of its second full season. There’s no denying that Dominic Mitchell’s screenplays for these initial episodes lacked some of the spark and wit demonstrated by his contributions to Season One, yet promise was still clearly exhibited by the remarkable performances of the central cast and the increasingly prominent plot arc regarding the First Risen and the looming influence of exterior forces such as the Undead Prophet (though he’s still curiously absent from a physical perspective by the end of the series) on Roarton.

Did the four concluding outings of the fantasy drama which aired on May 18th, May 25th, June 1st and June 8th provide a thrilling send-off for what could be argued as one of the most anticipated runs of fantasy drama this year, or did they merely fulfil our hopes to the same disheartening extent as the England team ‘achieved’ recently at the World Cup in Rio de Janeiro, leaving the show in a purgatorial state in the midst of BBC Three’s impending digitalization akin to Roy Hodgson’s managerial contract? It’s high time that we find out the truth…

Episode Three

Or “the one where Kieran suddenly acts upon his unspoken romantic attraction towards Simon” (oh, and spoiler alert, if you hadn’t already guessed).

For obvious reasons (not least that the season’s tone took an unexpectedly abrupt turn for the better as a result), many viewers will have left the instalment which marked the halfway point of Season Two with only the memory of Kieran and Simon’s commencement of a hidden sexual relationship behind the back of the latter’s soon-to-be fiancée. This reviewer hopes that, in a day and age where our society should and largely does strive to promote and maintain equal rights for all regardless of their sexuality, the impact of this latest personal revelation came as a shock more as a result of the lack of foregrounding in Episodes 1 and 2 (indeed, watching both instalments over again, there’s very little evidence in the screenplay or the direction of direct foreshadowing of this moment) rather than any hostility towards the nature of the coupling for the vast majority of viewers. More importantly, however, Mitchell did successfully prove in the latter half of the run that this wasn’t a game-changing scene which he had thrown in for the sake of adding further controversy and/or credibility to a series which has often been overlooked due to the universal recognition of its competitors such as Game of Thrones (by far its most prominent rival this Spring).

For Mitchell to divert the viewer’s attention almost totally away from the show’s regular protagonist for the majority of Episode 3’s running time was naturally just as risky a move as the end-of-episode cliff-hanger, if not moreso, yet as has been the case with so many other choices enacted by its writer, directors and cast members, In the Flesh only benefits from the audacity of his latest narrative. Over the course of the hour or so we spend in the company of himself and his brilliantly realized family, Freddie Preston (Bryan Parry) is converted from a lacklustre background player to a compelling protagonist in his own right, partly thanks to Parry’s realistic portrayal of a resurrected young adult struggling to cope with witnessing his ex-girlfriend in the midst of her having found a romantic substitute (in the guise of none other than An Adventure in Space and Time’s Sacha Dhawan, who’s on top form here) but largely thanks to Jim O’Hanlon’s superb direction of the refreshingly intimate domestic set-pieces which occur as anti-PDS tensions reach an all-time high for several citizens of Roarton. If these elements of this surprisingly standalone piece of drama had fallen short of the benchmark set by previous instalments, Episode 3 could quite easily have been the weakest entry of Season Two, but since they go so far as to match and top much of the series’ prior output, the episode ultimately ends up as one of the highlights of the show’s output so far.

Episode Four

Or “the one where Kieren loses his temper at a family dinner”.

Credit should be given where it’s due to both Dominic Mitchell and stars Luke Newberry and Steve Cooper for successfully drawing out the ongoing story arc of Kieren and Steve Walker’s ever-turbulent character dynamic over the course of not one, but one and a half seasons before bringing it to a satisfying climax (of sorts, anyway). Whilst it wasn’t a major shock to witness Kieren lashing out (with good reason, we might add) at his father and his sister for laughing at the troublesome Gary’s accounts of his zombie-hunting days and subsequently begrudging their respective brother and son for offering up a similarly earnest retrospective on his time as a crazed PDS sufferer, the sense of the inevitability of their confrontation was so tangible that the scene in which it occurred will doubtless be remembered as utterly exhilarating despite (or thanks to) its intimacy, with Simon’s gradual comprehension of Kieren’s supposed status as the First Risen only strengthening the dramatic impact of the sequence overall.

An enduring strength of In the Flesh is its confidence in prioritizing more subtle moments of drama than action- or horror-themed set-pieces, presumably out of respect to those cinematic fantastical productions which possess a larger budget to provide the latter generic tropes in full force on the big-screen. Rarely has this approach worked to its detriment, and indeed, the lingering medium close-up shot of an all-too-clearly degraded undead prostitute who seems to contemplate her harrowing life choices shortly before hooking up once more with town counsellor Philip represents a fine example of an instance in which the programme has become empowered by its smaller moments rather than restrained in any way, shape or form by them. The more that Mitchell places emphasis on sequences such as these rather than simply broadening the naturally dense mythology of the show, the more he reminds this reviewer of the series’ potential to go far should it be offered a third lease of life on BBC One, BBC Two or the iPlayer-esque revised version of BBC Three in the not too distant future.

Episode Five

Or “the one where Amy begins to regain human qualities in a rain-soaked shelter”.

Considering that the show’s original trio of scripts were laden with shocking moments, Season Two has been comparatively light on major revelations regarding its central players, with one substantial exception to the rule – that of Amy’s supposed transformation from a charming PDS temptress to a charming human temptress, albeit one whose influence upon her newfound peers is remarkably short-lived as a result of the events of the run’s finale. Not since last year either has Emily Bevan contributed (or been offered the opportunity to contribute in terms of screen-time) such a spellbinding performance as she does in the penultimate chapter of the 2014 series, nor has her character received such a notable development in the trajectory of her arc since her inception. Mitchell and company would be absolute fools to leave Bevan behind come Season Three, and something tells me that the final moments of both Episodes 5 and 6 will hold the key to the exposition of why and how Amy strides back across the valley of death into the land of the living for a second time.

As rare as it is for up-and-coming dramas such as this one to attempt to mimic literary greats in their initial screenplays, this reviewer couldn’t help but notice that the mock trial sequence in which Kieren is accused of a crime he could not possibly have committed by local counsellors in a school’s sports hall mirrored King Lear in all but the tragic implications upon the protagonist’s ongoing character arc (and given Mitchell’s evident capacity for killing off beloved constructs, I wouldn’t go so far as to even put Kieren’s eventual permanent demise past him). Just as Lear and the Fool seem to fully comprehend the hilariously ludicrous nature of their interrogation of a wooden chair named ‘Gonerill’, so too do Kieren and his family appear to know how absurd the accusations which are laid before the former are, only for Steve to ignore the evidence and to join the rally of Roarton citizens demanding for his son’s return to a laborious PDS clinic outside of their town’s boundaries.

In a similar vein to many other ongoing, multi-season dramas, I’d wager that the penultimate episode of Season Two is in fact superior to the instalment which brings proceedings to a climax, its supremely subversive revelations regarding its main characters and its potential allusions to literary classics ensuring that events in Roarton couldn’t possibly be any more captivating eight hours in.

Episode Six

Or “the one where Amy dies and everything changes”.

Now, get out of that one! Evidently taking notes from Russell T Davies, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss’ Doctor Who and Sherlock scripts, Mitchell masterminds an ambitious balancing act of resolving key narrative threads and laying fundamental foundations for the potential arc and structure of Season Three in Episode 6, and for the most part, the overall pay-off for the 300,000-strong viewership is immensely rewarding, even if the script can hardly be said to work efficiently as a dramatic entity in isolation. As I’ve said already, there’s virtually no doubt in this reviewer’s mind that Amy will appear in some form or another if and when the series is resurrected (get it?) for a third run, but that semi-foreknowledge doesn’t take away the gravitas of her (temporary or otherwise) departure here or any of the other climactic sequences which come to pass before the credits roll on Season Two.

By the very nature of its death-ridden genre, the show’s tone has generally resembled that of a dystopian narrative in its overriding negativity and pessimism surrounding human nature and our tendency to reduce those individuals who we don’t fully understand to the state of Grendel-esque ‘Other’ creatures with next to no genuine civil rights within society. With that being said, Episode 6 is very much an instalment which thrives on its tonal contrasts, mainly due to its opening with an uncharacteristically jovial sequence depicting two of Amy’s PDS-treating doctors discussing their potentially beneficial plans for the character in a roadside café to the backdrop of the Christian hymn “Morning Has Broken”. Just as Amy’s weirdly charming crazy golf tournament with Philip briefly dispelled many of the displayed tensions present in an earlier instalment this season, so too does this moment (amongst others) enable Mitchell to inject a little humour (however brief or contradictory to the overall tone of the episode) into his screenplay. That “Morning Has Broken” is played again later in the episode even allows it to take on the guise of a recurring aural motif, signalling the dawn of a new day in Roarton and, with Amy’s potential emergence as the First Risen (though this particular revelation is poorly handled so far as accessibility, with Bevan and Mitchell only really necessarily clarifying the matter after the episode’s broadcast), perhaps a future period of tranquillity where humans and PDS patients (who themselves may one day revert to their original human state) can live in harmony without trying to slaughter one another every other day.

The future doesn’t seem so bright for Roarton’s current MP Maxine Martin, though, since the character was essentially reduced to the role of a murderous psychopath this time around, bringing five weeks of careful scheming to an oddly abrupt climax as she revealed (again, somewhat uncharacteristically) the true motivation behind her arrival in the town. Of all the new character arcs established in this formidable second run, Maxine’s has been by far the weakest, and it’s thus fitting that the resolution to this long-dangling plot thread comes as just as much of a sudden and tonally inconsistent shift as the construct’s introductory scenes did way back in Episode 1. In future, Mitchell might well be advised to stick to the current residents of Roarton rather than newcomers, since barring Simon, the head writer seems to be far more assertive (when it comes to substantial emotive developments) when utilizing the central players of the original season to enhanced dramatic effect.

That said, to conclude on a somewhat condescending note would be remiss and do a severe injustice to the immensely talented production team behind this ever-ambitious drama. In the Flesh may still lack the blockbuster-riffing bombast of Game of Thrones and the kid-friendly humour of BBC One’s Atlantis, but that hasn’t stopped its second season from equalling both of those beloved TV fantasy franchises in terms of both scale and merits. Improvements can still most certainly be implemented between now and Season Three (as I mentioned in my original review of Episode 1, “a lot can change in a year”!), of course, but Dominic Mitchell, the cast and the crew should all be extremely proud of their achievements, especially in light of BBC Three’s current (rather apt) purgatorial situation. Fittingly for a programme which thrives on its basic premise of human resurrection, In the Flesh has never felt more alive than it does here, and to that end, the BBC might as well consign themselves to an early grave should they elect to start axing such compelling and relevant dramas as this one.