‘Investigating infernal incidents and cracking complex conundrums!’
‘We’ve battled dangerous denizens of the daemonic darkness together‘
If there isn’t a clearer statement of what Big Finish is great at than making a spin-off series from the TV show, more than 35 years after it was first mooted, then I don’t know what is! Before the 13 (yes 13!) largely wonderful series of ‘Jago & Litefoot – Investigators of Infernal Incidents’, we had this fantastic little Companion Chronicle story to test the waters. The Companion Chronicles are normally two-handers, a lead and a new character. Here we get three – our two leads, Christopher Benjamin and Trevor Baxter together for the first time since 1977, sharing the narration duties, each telling the story from their own viewpoint and we also have Lisa Bowerman (who also directs all of this with great flair) as cockney barmaid Ellie chipping in. I am assuming that the story was well received and a decent seller, as just over a year later the first boxset of the spin-off series launched.
Appropriately, we first meet Jago & Litefoot in a pub, sharing a pale ale (‘I appear to be spoiled for choice when it comes to ale’), an environment where Jago is very much the expert and a mentor to the more salubrious pathologist! Since the events of the ‘Talons of Weng Chiang’, it is clear that our two heroes have seen each other from time to time and shared adventures – even referencing in the manner of Conan-Doyle, an unseen case – ‘the case of the trained anteater and the aluminium violin’! In the intervening period Henry Gordon Jago has become even riper and more ribald, but unfortunately also slightly more down at heel and is now MC at the Alhambra Theatre. Christopher Benjamin’s voice has become even more fruity and ripe, while Trevor Baxter as Litefoot rather uncannily sounds exactly like he did in 1977. The story structure allows the two characters to rather beautifully interrupt each other’s stories and critique each other like very old friends. It immediately feels like they are characters that we have known for many years and have become old friends, which is very impressive, not least because of the relatively short period of time we originally spent with them and the intervening years. It is a tribute to both the two consummate actors and the excellent character work of Robert Holmes all those years ago.
‘The Mahogany Murderers’ is a wonderful concoction. It has a beautifully old-fashioned air – two old actors enjoying spending time with each other in their dotage (the interview extras are often as entertaining as the series), with a script that is both detailed in its Victoriana and redolent of an episode of ‘The Avengers’ or ‘Adam Adamant Lives’ – light, breezy and slightly (actually completely) daft. I mean this isn’t ‘Heaven Sent’ or ‘Warriors Gate’ or ‘Scherzo’, the plot involves a mad Dutch scientist (Dr Tulp) who helps hardened criminals escape the rope and Newgate by transferring their consciousness into exquisitely carved and realistic, working wooden mannikin replicas (available in a range of woods and finishes – mahogany being just the first discovered) – it’s all done with that wonder of the modern age – electricity (ermmm somehow!). It does however fit the tone of the piece perfectly and more than anything it is great fun and made with great love and care and well, there is a lot to be said for that. There are a few darker moments – Litefoot’s horror at the depravity and poverty of one of the London ‘rookeries’ and a really disturbing moment when one of the convicts has his mind transferred back to his old body and wakes in his grave. The darker side of the Victorian age is always evident in these stories, despite the humour and lightness of touch.
We may crave thematic depth and originality in the TV show and yes, I get where that comes from. However, there is also an element of ‘Doctor Who’ and certain other series (again ‘The Avengers’ is an example) where they provide a warm glow, wrap you up in a blanket by a roaring fire, put their arms around you and offer you some comfort that the world isn’t such a terrible place after all. A world in which a series where Jago & Litefoot investigate strange goings on in Victorian London gets made can’t be such a terrible place can it? My advice, on a dark winter’s evening, get yourself a nice single malt, stoke up the fire, put your feet up and listen to this little slice of perfection. It won’t shake your world, but will make it a happier place for a while. If you don’t love it, then I fear that the world must indeed be a dark place.
A Journal of Impossible Things 