City of Death is possibly the greatest Doctor Who episode ever made. These things are subjective, of course, and in a 2009 readers’ poll of the 200 complete stories in existence at the time, it came eighth. But ahead of it were stories with very solid pretentions to genuine, serious sci-fi or literary merit, stories such as The Caves of Androzani, Blink and Human Nature.
City of Death, by contrast to these worthies, is a load of frothy nonsense. It makes no claims to profundity, on any level. The plot is centred around a neat timey-wimey concept, but bears up to no scrutiny. About the only visible thing the episode has going for it is the novelty of being filmed in location in Paris – the city of the frankly rubbish title – which was the first time in the show’s history that the production team ventured further than a quarry in Essex.
And yet, with a sparkling script by Douglas Adams – not credited on broadcast, for historical reasons – and spot-on performances by such guest stars as Julian Glover and Catherine Schell, and an amazing original soundtrack by in-house composer Dudley Simpson, City of Death achieved an alchemy of excellence that makes it one of the most truly beloved stories of its era. It was also held up as a model of what Doctor Who could be, when Russell T Davies was trying to convince the BBC to revive it. It has aged better than pretty much any other episode from the classic era.
Again for historical reasons, it was never novelised. At the time, Target Books issued novelisations of every broadcast episode, an essential service in the days before home video recorders. Because Douglas Adams had first right of refusal on his own script, and because (I’m assuming) the notoriously procrastinating author never got around to exercising that right, the story languished untouched by prose for over three decades.
Now, at last, City of Death has been novelised, by James Goss, who has made his writing career mostly around Doctor Who and its peripheral media. ‘Long-awaited’ barely covers it.
For what it’s worth, the plot centres around a high-class society art thief, Count Scarlioni, and his wife, hatching an elaborate plot to steal the Mona Lisa – while, in unknown to his wife, the Count attempts to build a time machine in the cellar of his Parisian chateau. It turns out, of course, that the Count is merely one fragment of an alien called Scaroth, who crashed his spaceship on primeval Earth and was, thanks to an accident with a warp field or something, splintered Clara-like across the centuries. Arriving in Paris for a holiday – like that ever works out in the Doctor Who universe – the Doctor and Romana find that the Count’s experiments are causing fluctuations in the local time stream. They team up with a punch-happy detective, Duggan, who is on the trail of a series of art thefts.
On the whole, Goss does a pretty good job in fleshing out the characters and their stories without collapsing the soufflé. I particularly enjoyed his depiction of Count Scarlioni’s emerging identity issues, and – as a point of detail – Kerensky’s experience of dying within the time bubble. I did feel at times that there were perhaps too many words, too much slightly unnecessary picking-apart of every line of dialogue, and certainly too much viewpoint-hopping within scenes. And I was never going to be entirely happy with his depiction of the Countess Scarlioni, since she is probably my favourite ever Doctor Who supporting character and no interpretation that another third party puts on her can match the one in my head. I was, I have to admit, disappointed that Goss doesn’t go near the one question that must burn in the brain of anyone who seriously thinks about the Count and Countess’s relationship – what about their sex life, eh? Scaroth is a one-eyed green spaghetti-skinned alien who gets by with a sophisticated face mask. Does he in fact wear a body suit, or… what? We do not get Goss’s thoughts on the matter, despite a fair bit of internal monologue from the Countess. Shame.
I’d definitely recommend this as a must-read for any Doctor Who enthusiast, and of course there are coy little bonus references for the attentive fan (for instance, the Doctor at one points wonders whether he will ever end up confused by the number of his wives). Whether or not it would make sense or mean much to anyone else, particularly someone who has never watched the original, I have absolutely no idea. Great fun for the initiated, at any rate.