BLAKE’S 7: The Early Years is now confirmed for BBC7 radio transmissions coming up soon. Happy listening…
Eye of The Machine – Monday 31st May at 18:30
Blood and Earth – Tuesday 1st June at 18:30
The Dust Run – Wednesday 2nd June at 18:30
The Trial – Thursday 3rd June at 18:30
When Villa Met Gan – Friday 4th June at 18:30
It’s a snow-speckled day in December, and I’m arriving at The Soundhouse, a recording studio off Goldhawk Road. I have, in no uncertain terms, been told to arrive before script editor Ben Aaronovich, because of the experience he had during the recording of our Jenna Early Years stories. I decide that when I arrive, I’ll tell all the actors to bombard Ben with as many questions as possible, because, well, it amuses me to torment him; but the icy weather conspires to make me – and everyone else – late. My plan is foiled.
Studio control room, with the poised director...
The Soundhouse is a mix of IKEA-slick décor and massed ranks of audio technology, depending on what room you enter. Our first trilogy of Blake’s 7 stories came together here, and last time I was in the studio, it was to work on Point of No Return, my Travis Early Years story.
Studio recording - Zoe Tapper, Alistair Lock and Jason Merrels
Today, Zoe Tapper, Jason Merrels, Tracy-Ann Obermann, Pamela Banks and Sam Woodward, along our resident sonic guru and artificial intelligence Alistair Lock, are speaking my words. Despite delayed trains, a couple of dud mikes and the cold seeping into the studio, we get under way.
This is a story of starships and talking computers, so there’s a fair bit of technobabble here; lines about ramscoops, hyperspace, discorporated molecules and wormholes can be challenging for some actors, but our cast handles them with aplomb. We decide on the day to present Sci-Fi BAFTAs to everyone for all their hard work. Later the category is expanded to include Space Kissing and Death BAFTAs – and I get my Alfred Hitchcock moment playing a hapless crewmember perishing from a radiation blast.
“How does one die from that?” asks one of the cast. “Oh, it’s a melty, boiling kind of death,” I explain, in what I hope is a helpful fashion.
On cue, everyone screams horribly.
James Swallow
Alistair Lock - Zen vocals...
Usually I’m recording other people, but this time I’m in front of the microphone. I’m in a very small room, with padding on the wall. What does that say?
Not only am I here to provide the voice for a character, but a rather (to me anyway) iconic one; the voice of Zen the Liberator’s computer.
And it ain’t easy. Zen is turning out to be quite a complex character, more than the sum of his algorithms. There’s more to it than saying “confirmed” every now and then, but it’s a usual phrase when asked if I’d like a coffee.
Alistair practising a 'Zen look'...
The thing is, in this story that we’re recording at the moment, Escape Velocity, Zen gets quite emotional. He becomes really quite angry at times, yet he still has to sound like he’s delivering his lines in his usual neutral tone. It’s difficult, during recording, not to get drawn into the emotion of a scene, and start becoming obviously aggressive, or even hurt, during the course of a scene. The “trick” will be in certain nuances of timing and inflection to suggest what’s going on behind the words; audio body language if you like. He isn’t Zen yet, he’s ‘Ship Mind’ and the ship he’s responsible for is DSV2: Deep Space Vessel Two.
Although it’s fun working with Zoe Tapper and Jason Merrels who are “off the telly”, it’s also rather isolating, as I have to stay in my box. Zen has to stay quarantined.
In early discussions with Andrew (Mark Sewell, the director and producer), he was keen for me to perform Zen along the lines of Peter Tuddenham, who voiced Zen in the classic TV series, though I obviously want to put my own ’stamp’ on the character, who in the new series will, how shall I put it, go far beyond his original programming.
Like any decent programmer, I’ve left a programming “back door” for Zen, my own studio at home. Any lines that I or Andrew feels are too “human” or emotional can be re-recorded at my leisure during the post production process. This takes some of the pressure off me as an actor, and also helps Zoe Tapper, with whom I share the majority of my scenes. In the studio I can give her something emotional to play off, but in the final piece she will rage against the machine, which will be quite implacable.
Alistair Lock
Zen - cover artwork
It’s October 2007, and I’m at the Cult TV Weekender convention with my colleagues from B7M, there to expound to attendees about our new audio drama re-imagining of Blake’s 7. The whole event is taking place on a big estate that looks like it belongs to Lady Penelope, and while we rub shoulders with telly superstars like Huggy Bear and Gene Hunt over dinner, conversation turns to our the next phase of our project.
Throwing ideas around - James Swallow and Ben Aaronovich
Producer Andrew Sewell wants to tell a series of “early years” stories about our cast of characters – flashback tales to pivotal events in their past that will build up back-story and highlight the key moments that made them the people they are. It’s a great idea, perfectly suited to the intimacy that audio drama brings. As the Gene Genie asks me to pass him the butter, story editor Ben Aaronovich and I start throwing around some ideas. I plant my flag on the Travis story, and by the end of the conversation we’ve discussed all of our heroes and villains, and what we might say about them.
All but one, that is; I casually suggest that if we’re looking into the pasts of our characters, why not think about the past of the most mysterious one of all? This is science fiction, after all – our characters don’t even need to be human…
Eighteen months later; we’re seven stories into the Early Years series and it’s going well. Vila, Gan, Avon, Travis, Cally and Jenna have all been given the flashback treatment, and now we’re setting our sights on Blake and Servalan. But the ghost of that idea I had over the bread rolls a year and a half ago won’t go away.
One of the things in the classic B7 series that captivated me right away was the Liberator, and I’ve never quite let that magnificent ship go. I always wondered what catastrophe had set it adrift and left it broken and derelict for Blake and company to find. How did the ship’s original crew perish? What made Zen turn rogue? I know I want to tell that story, and so Escape Velocity is born.
I had the main beats of the script already scoped out – a story showing Zen before he was Zen, back when he was still part of the alien System, all of it through the eyes of a human pilot who had lost her past and was searching, like the ship, for an identity. By the end of Summer, the script is done, preliminary – and very cool – cover art has been created, and we’re into casting and final revisions. Recording dates are set, actors are contracted. Set course for studio, Standard by Seven…
James Swallow
The Facebook message from Producer Andrew Mark Sewell was enticing. Would I be interested in writing the music for two episodes of the audio revival of Blake’s 7? Would I? Does the Pope shit in the woods? Count me in.
What I hadn’t realised was that composing music for audio is not quite the same as writing to picture (although to get a quality end-result it takes every bit as much time). In TV and film, the purpose of music is to accompany visuals, heighten mood, highlight emotion and enhance exposition. It’s the same with audio, of course, except that the visuals are in our heads, so in many ways it’s a harder task to accompany an image that is different for each listener. On top of that, when writing TV and film music it’s common to be able to write expansive or sometimes complex compositions that accompany action without worrying about dialogue. Audio dramas don’t demand long sections of music that are not accompanied by dialogue, so a composer has to be careful not to stomp all over the actors and obscure or detract from the play itself. Subtlety is king. At the same time, Blake’s 7 demands a big ‘filmic’ soundscape, so I had to draw a careful line between understated mood enhancement, and grand, even epic musical dramatics.
Ok, here’s the first of several very lengthy and detailed set of notes from Dominic Devine, the director of the two Cally plays I’m to score. Oh. Was I crazy saying yes to this? Reading this I’m thinking this could possibly take a year or two to complete. What? You need it by the middle of next month? And I’m away in New York for 10 days in early July. And director Dom is in Japan. And Alistair Lock (sound designer extraordinaire) needs to complete post-production on dialogue and sound effects before I can begin. Head buried in hands. Ok then, no point worrying. Let’s just do this thing.
It’s soon quite apparent that these guys really know what they’re doing. The intriguing scripts have been powerfully brought to life by an excellent cast, and then elevated to the next level by some inspired sound design. Dom’s notes may be challenging, but after careful thought I managed to come up with music hopefully to match his vision.
With Dom in Japan, we’re relying on him getting a good connection in an Internet café and checking out each cue as I finish. Eventually modern technology combines with human creativity and between us all, we achieve the end result we hoped for. And within the deadline. No time for sleep, of course, but hey, who cares? We’re doing Blake’s 7, for God’s sake.
Dominic Glynn
Jenna Stannis has grown up on a space station and thinks planets are a bit backward. My original wheeze for a story about her early life was to have teenage Jenna race spaceships with a boy that she fancies.
Script editor Ben Aaronovitch liked the idea, but tossed back my first draft because I had avoided the real physics. He said:
“The B7 universe doesn’t have shields. These are not Star Trek shuttles they’re racing, they don’t swoop, glide, veer etc. They move according to Newtonian physics – sorry.”
At his insistence, I had to go ask my clever friends about orbital mechanics and delta-v.
You can’t race space ships in vacuum. If they’re both the same shape and have the same thrust they’ll be perfectly matched. So my race now takes place through an asteroid field, where the ships get pinged with dust and rocks, and the pilots need skill to keep themselves on a steady course. The dust rattling off the nose cone will also, I’m hoping, make it sound good on audio.
I worried how I’d explain the physics stuff to the listener without bogging down the story in explanation. So I’ve used the complexity of the physics as a plot point. They race without using their ships’ computers, doing all the calculations in their heads. That means they’re also trying to put each other off.
So I’ve got an important plot reason for Jenna mentioning off-hand to the guy she’s racing that she’s not wearing a bra…
Simon Guerrier
I’ve always found naming characters difficult. In my first novel I named the protagonists after people I knew – and killed my friend the writer Scott Andrews more than 40 times in the first nine chapters.
For The Dust Run, I struggled to find tough, plosive names like the ones in Terry Nation’s head. Names to rank alongside Dalek, Blake and Tarrant. And it’s not that easy.
So I thought I’d cheat.
First, Jenna’s friend in The Dust Run was called ‘Kebble’ – which I pinched from a minor character in the 1966 Doctor Who story Power of the Daleks. Script editor Ben Aaronovitch didn’t like that, so I looked through the credits of Terry Nation’s last Doctor Who story Destiny of the Daleks – from 1979, the same era as Blake’s 7. David Yip had played ‘Veldan’, which became the name of the young pilot Jenna knew when she was young. I also pinched ‘Jall’ – played in Doctor Who by Penny Casdagli – for the name of the thief Jenna teams up with in The Trial.
My masters, though, felt that these names sounded too “Sci-Fi”, and wanted something more everyday. So Veldan became ‘Townsend’, after a mate of mine. There was then a great deal of pondering before Jall became ‘Nick’. Which is a good name for a thief.
Simon Guerrier
I was always a big fan of Blake’s 7; especially the composer Dudley Simpson (I’d unwittingly followed his career for much of my childhood – Doctor Who, The Tomorrow People, Blake’s 7) so I jumped at the chance to compose music for a Blake’s 7 audio drama.
I met Andrew Mark Sewell and Alistair Lock to have a chat about the kind of sound they were after. Cinematic was the key word. Big, but not overpowering. The most important thing, after all, in an audio drama is for the listener to be able to understand what’s going on.
With TV and film, a lot of information is taken for granted. You see the action, you pick up the gist of the plot even if you don’t catch all the dialogue. You see a character smile or make a gesture with their hands and you understand what they are thinking. When scoring for TV and Film, you can see and hear when the music works because the characters come to life a little bit more.
But with an audio drama it is more complicated. There are no hand signals. The plot has to be simple enough to follow, the show has to have clarity yet also be exciting enough to keep the listener’s attention. It should take them on a journey without being confusing. The music has to enhance the action and the tender moments without getting in the way.
A tough brief for everyone involved.
I read the scripts for The Dust Run and Trial which were fast paced, full of action and very filmic. I could imagine watching the characters and their space chases at my local Odeon which was a good sign.
Next, Alistair sent me a rough compilation of the dramas without any effects. In essence, the actors performing in the studio without any explosions, space ship crashes etc. This was equally revealing to me and reminds me why I would never make the grade as an actor. After having read the scripts myself, the words simply came to life when hearing them read by proper actors.
I began to get a much clearer picture of what was needed from me. Some of the interrogation scenes needed a bit of extra tension whilst the action scenes needed some fast paced music to help them on their way.
Alistair then sent me the shows with the added effects that he had created in his studio. To hear the characters intercom flight chats in their respective space ships and then to hear them roar off into the galaxy was an amazing transformation. It made my job much easier and I began working out which scenes would need music. Alistair, also a composer – he wrote the main theme – was very helpful in choosing where the music score should go and how it should evolve. He was a very good sounding board and was invaluable at guiding the music in the right direction and, hopefully, avoiding any head-on crashes into the sun.
On hearing the finished shows, all the intricacies of dialogue, effects and music are blended into one complete sonic image. It’s hard to separate any one element and, fingers crossed, will transport the listener to another world.
Simon Russell
My casting notes for The Dust Run and The Trial, as sent to producer Andrew Sewell on 3 August 2009.
Simon Guerrier
WARNING: These notes contain SPOILERS
Present-day Max is in his late 20s, the same age as Jenna. Like her, he’s a spacer – he looks down on the backwards lot still living on planets.
When we first meet Max he’s in his teens. Unlike Jenna – who he’d never admit he adores – Max just isn’t a rebel. For all that, the spacer kids are a bit wayward and run around on their own, Max is as authority as they come. His late father was a war hero, and Max treasures the medals – and really needs a dad to sort him out. Like the lower-middle class product of a public school, he’s not posh but his life was mapped out in front of him from the moment he’s born. He’ll be an officer-pilot for the Federation – to him, its old-skool values and heroism, he probably sees it like Dan Dare. And then, when he’s too old to fly, he’ll be a lawyer, and help out the ordinary Joe. A worthy, respectable, useful life.
Except, for Max in his late 20s, it didn’t work out like that. He’s tougher, harder, more battle scarred. This guy’s seen some shit – and been responsible for it, too. His ambitions had to be paid for; and he paid with his soul. Compromises, betrayals, looking the other way – they’ve all taken their toll on him. He’s still charming, in a cold, aloof way. He’s used to getting his own way and doesn’t deal with embarrassment well. He maybe even thinks he’s still one of the good guys.
Max then and now is eager to please those in charge, and to prove himself. He desperately craves approval and is terrified of what people think of him. He wants Jenna to love him, to submit to him. But he wants his masters’ approval more.
Nick’s a bit of a mystery – Jenna’s not a reliable witness. But he’s older than her, in his early 40s, a charming, smooth professional criminal. Before, he must have preyed on Jenna – a pretty, young thing eager to prove her usefulness. And he must have then tossed her aside. He must have done that all the time.
Nick can handle himself. He’ll kill people when he needs to, even torture them first. Beneath the charm there’s something really very nasty.
He’s wary, he’s used to small, intimate jobs and keeps a low profile. And he’s got his own twisted set of values. He hates the system – sees his criminal life as playing some part in the battle against the Man. And he wants a way out; to retire, or at least to change the life he’s in. Jenna coming back is a chance to redeem himself – to her and in his own mind.
Clever casting director David Hall gets us Benedict Cumberbatch for Townsend and Stephen Lord as Nick. I couldn’t be happier. Hooray!
Benedict Cumberbatch (Townsend), writer Simon Guerrier and Carrie Dobro (Jenna) © B7 Enterprises Ltd
On 1 February 2008, script editor Ben Aaronovitch emailed out of the blue asking if I’d write a half-hour Blake’s 7 play. I’d employed him for a book and some short stories, and he was returning the favour.
He wanted a play for two voices, covering the early years of one of the main Blake’s 7 characters. “I’m doing Gan and Villa and a Servalan one,” he said. “That leaves Jenna as smuggler or Avon/Ensor.” And he needed the play very quickly.
The original plan was to make the story part of a special, 30th anniversary release for late 2008, so I had until 12 February to write my first draft. Managed to do that, and then jetted off to a Doctor Who convention in Los Angeles, where producer Andrew Sewell announced I was on the team.
Ben sent me notes on the script on 13 March, including the note that, “the big crime amongst spacers is putting other people’s life support at risk.” I sent him a revised version two days later.
I wrote a blurb and author notes for the story on 24 March, and on 3 May Ben let me know he and producer Andrew Sewell were happy with the script but wanted actress Carrie Dobro to give her approval. On 19 May, I was asked to explain Jenna’s age in the play – we meet her at three different points in her life.
On 5 August, Ben offered me the chance to include a third character in the play. A week later, I let him know,
“I’ve had a think and written some notes, but I can’t think of a way to have a third character in my Jenna play that makes it any better. Different, yes. But not better. If there’s things you’d like me to incorporate, I’m happy to work them in, but I can’t think of anything I’d like to do to improve it.”
On 19 August, I attended the recording of Young Travis, and had a chat with Andrew and Ben in the pub afterwards about where the series was going and when we’d be recording mine. No, The Dust Run wouldn’t be out by the end of the year.
On 21 April 2009, Ben emailed me, asking if I’d write a second Young Jenna episode, to go on the same CD release. Over the next day, we knocked some ideas back and forth, to which Ben concluded:
“Heroic, sad and ultimately futile – Blake’s 7 in a nutshell”.
On 27 April, I revised he blurb and notes from more than a year previously to incorporate the second story.
I sent Ben a revised version of The Dust Run on 12 May, now including stuff that set up the second episode. I sent another version of this on 31 May, along with the first draft of The Trial.
On 21 June, I provided the same scripts to Ben, this time using the scriptwriting program Final Draft instead of Word. I received notes back on the scripts on 1 July. “The important thing,” he said, “is to make sure that Jenna doesn’t come across as being weak.” I provided revisions on 5 July.
Producer Andrew Sewell then provided additional notes on 14 July. “Think that the sex scenes are too long,” he said. The hope was to record the episodes on 10-11 August. Later that day, Andrew also sent me some notes from director Alistair Lock. I delivered rewrites at 23.49 that same day.
On 3 August I provided character notes for the casting of Townsend and Nick. Andrew sent round final, locked versions of the script on 21 August. On 27 August, I attended the first day of recording for the story – 18 months after The Dust Run was first commissioned.
As I’m signing in at reception, a familiar voice behind me says, “Blake’s 7? Really?” It’s Steven Grief – evil Travis in the first year of Blake’s 7 on TV. He’s working in the studio next door. This, I decide, is a good omen.
Simon Guerrier
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