The Devil's Chord
review


Holistic Review: Gatwa, Jinkx, and the period costumes are glorious, but one also needs a plot.


There's only one way I can start this review: by declaring what a massive fan I am of Jinkx Monsoon, going all the way back to season 5 of RuPaul's Drag Race in 2013. She was my favorite from the start of the season, and shortly after her win, I had the chance to see her perform in Detroit, where I got to meet her after the show at a group photoshoot. "Green's your color, darling!" she told me as I cozied up next to her for our photo. "I'm so happy you won!" I told her, and she responded, "Me too!" Since then, it's been a joy to watch her star continue to ascend, and I was also fortunate to see her holiday show with Ben DeLaCreme (another all-time favorite) in Seattle last year. So when it was announced in April 2023 that she'd be guest starring in Doctor Who, I flipped out with excitement.

I remember thinking, when Jinkx's casting was first announced, that it would be amazing to see her in literally any role, but Jinkx's performances have always tilted really effectively toward the sarcastic, the snide, the wicked — for a great example, see her role as Holly in the All Stars 7 sketch Santa's School for Girls — and so a villain role for her would be sublime. Imagine my delight when that's exactly what they eventually announced!

On the whole, Jinkx is one of the high points of The Devil's Chord for me. I started beaming from ear to ear the instant Jinkx appeared onscreen, and her performance kept me glued to it, partly because her line deliveries were just so gripping: Maestro's musical "Ta-daaaa!" as they pop out of the piano, the very 1920s delivery (so on-brand for Jinkx) of "Nice to see you again, kiddo!", "They sit there still, wrapped around your heart, still beating.", the sensual "Would you like me to set them free?", "Mmmmm!" as they suck the tip of their wand after absorbing Drake's musical talent, "Where are you?", "A single silly man who found the lost chord!", "There's a hidden song deep inside her soul! What is it?", "What is this?", the way they roll their eyes at the Doctor, "Go on then.", and "Bum note!", and Jinkx does a great job of scream-singing as Maestro is nearly banished. Then there are the deliveries that change emotion and intensity mid-stream: "But it's so sad, Timothy! You never had the luck. You never got that break.", "Because I heard music, and music is mine!", and "But she's the only human left with music in her heart! Playing lovesick songs for heartbroken lesbians, and that just makes me hungry for all those delicious songs." As an audience member, it keeps you on your toes, never sure whether Maestro is about to smile or strike. And just as I'd anticipated, Jinkx has the best evil smile, along with a deliciously wicked sneer, and some amazing evil laughs, like after "I am music." It's a totally committed performance, and I was rivetted throughout.

As a villain, I find Maestro absolutely fascinating. Doctor Who has always found superb success when pitting the Doctor against godlike beings — the Toymaker, the Master of the Land of Fiction, Azal, Sutekh, the Guardians, the Gods of Ragnarok, Fenric, the Beast, etc — and Maestro is no different in that regard. (Traditionally, many of these stories have been among my all-time favorites, but were also rare gems that only cropped up once every few years. That these formidable and often wacky adversaries are now becoming a norm, thanks to the Toymaker enabling magical realism in the Whoniverse, thrills me beyond belief. So I'm really loving the idea of the Pantheon, and I'm beside myself with curiosity to meet some of the other gods who make it up. Please, please let at least one of them be Lovecraftian.) But Maestro has a unique and really interesting motivation, in that they feel an ownership over all music, and are keen to absorb music — and particularly musical talent — wherever they find it. The idea of a being that eats music is really unusual, and The Devil's Chord draws a very logical conclusion from that premise: that if such a monster were unleashed upon the world, the resulting loss of music would change the entire path of human history. It makes absolute sense: music has always been a way for us to tap into, resonate with, and expunge emotions that we've been struggling with, or might not have even known we were feeling. Having that powerful method of emotional venting taken away from humanity would very likely lead to all that pent-up sadness and anger and rage exploding, and taking the planet with it.

As another aspect of their abilities, Maestro can control music, and because everything in the universe vibrates, therefore everything in the universe has a tune, so Maestro can control it all. What an incredibly formidable power; it's no wonder the Doctor freezes in his tracks. For once, I think I can actually give RTD credit for not exaggerating his hyperbole of Maestro as the Doctor's "most powerful enemy yet".

Maestro's unique ability to wield music means that they have a really unusual toolkit, including a conductor's baton (to extract and absorb the talent of musicians), their weaponization of a tuning fork (in order to locate their victims, and fight back against a sonic dampener), and their ability to ricochet the sonic screwdriver out of the Doctor's hand with sound waves. This is making me realize that, more than anything, Maestro is like a comic-book villain come to life, which makes Jinkx's performance feel even more appropriate.

Naturally, the script must give Jinkx Monsoon, Queen of All Queens, the opportunity for some costume changes, and Maestro gets three equally fantastic outfits. Their first costume, the piano-themed suit with a cape, is my favorite; the fact that it's sequinned, a detail which didn't show up in the originally released promo photos, is just *chef's kiss*. I love the orange-and-yellow makeup they paired it with, too — not only does it evoke "beautiful toxicity", as Jinkx observed in one of the behind-the-scenes videos, but it also echoes Maestro's ginger hair (which only feels right, as Jinkx seems most suited to being a redhead), which is piled into chaotic curls resembling devilish horns. I love the musical tattoo winding its way down Maestro's neck, too. From head to toe, it's a great look.

Second is their purple ballgown, which is a gorgeous color on Jinkx, and thematically a good fit for a scene where she's playing or lounging on a piano. (Not to mention her sparkly treble-clef earrings!) But I'm not as in love with her makeup or wig in this scene; the wig feels a little too flat, and though (judging by that same behind-the-scenes video) Jinkx seems to feel her makeup in this scene looks completely different, I couldn't perceive a change. I think actual beauty makeup would've served her better in this scene; against the vivid amethyst of her dress, and the bright overhead lighting, the orange-and-yellow makeup washes out her face too much.

But the final-battle outfit, an blue bandleader dress echoing both medieval armor and the Toymaker's bandleader look, is fantastic, especially the slightly frazzled wig and bruised skeletal makeup, which are a good match for Maestro's enraged characterization at this point. The dark sunken eyes and blooded lips make Maestro look just that shade more demonic, an attitude that's reflected in Jinkx's (quite different) performance as she gives some really chilling unearthly stares in the camera's direction, and lowers her voice into a malevolent rattle that's genuinely skin-crawling.

I do, however, wish that the script had given Jinkx more opportunities to show her full range. Maestro is scripted as your typical cackling ranting villain, so Jinkx dutifully plays them with a camp drag aesthetic, sneering at the camera in an over-the-top way and pitching her performance to the rafters. She's great at this OTT style, but I can imagine audience members who expected a more traditional performance might find it a little excessive, so I can sympathize with people who feel that Maestro was too campy and over-the-top (on lines like "You called?"). I wish the script had allowed her more moments to provide a dialed down, nuanced performance, partly because I was hoping that The Devil's Chord would show the world what an amazing actress Jinkx is, even beyond the style of "drag acting". But Maestro is not the subtlest of villains, and that's fine too; there's a grand tradition of Doctor Who monsters and villains being larger than life, and they fit into that category effortlessly. Anyway, it's not really all that common for Doctor Who to feature heightened camp villains, so why not have Jinkx seize the opportunity to give a larger-than-life performance? Anyway, having said that, on rewatching, I found numerous moments where Jinkx took a single line and explored different nuances throughout, along with many many moments where Jinkx allows her expressive face to convey a wide array of emotional nuance, especially during the silent scene. So the story does at least give Jinkx some opportunities to pitch her performance more subtly, and this is a perfect example:

What Jinkx's performance does, rather brilliantly, is emphasize how unpredictably mercurial Maestro is: sweetly sinister one second, raging the next, and longing moments later. I'm thrilled to see that most of the major online critics agree that it's one of the most memorable villain performances in recent years, by an actress who understands when to go full-throttle and when to dial it back. Hooray for Jinkx! Welcome to Doctor Who!

Fortunately, on the heels of the embarrassingly sophomoric Space Babies, The Devil's Chord comes as a breath of fresh air, right from the very first scene. (I can perhaps see why RTD decided to package both episodes together into a double-length premiere.) Really, I only have four criticisms of the story.

  1. There is no plot. Essentially, the Doctor finds that a powerful villain has been unleashed, and spends the rest of the episode basically just trying not to die. However, as I said in my review of Space Babies, a lack of plot is easily balanced out if the story is otherwise really engaging, and for me, that's the case here. Because this lack of extraneous plot elements turns the story into a pure showdown between — and thus also a showcase for — the regulars and Jinkx Monsoon's Maestro, I find it highly entertaining.
  2. It's a stretch to call this a Beatles episode, given that they only have what amounts to glorified cameo appearances at the story's beginning and very end — at which point Lennon and McCartney appear from out of nowhere to intuitively banish Maestro, much like a deus ex machina — and play absolutely zero role in the story's developing action. Because what interests me more about The Devil's Chord is Jinkx Monsoon, I'm not personally so bothered. But I can imagine that diehard Beatles fans were really frustrated to have their heroes relegated to little more than a cameo in an episode that was marketed as being all about them.
  3. The group musical number is a joyful ending to the story, and I love the umbrella-dancing sequence, but it feels completely unearned and unmotivated. Typically, there's some in-story justification for why the characters are suddenly and uncharacteristically breaking into a song and dance routine; here, there's absolutely zero attempt at explanation. (Likewise, it makes no sense for the Abbey Road zebra crossing to become playable like a keyboard.) We're just supposed to go along with it. Which is fine on one level, and I can do that, but the critical-thinking part of my brain isn't buying it. I find it utterly bizarre that the big flashmob musical number happens after the music-wielding villain has been defeated, unless this is some last lingering remnant of Maestro's power, or of the joyful inrush of music back into the world. But there's nothing in the episode to indicate that this is the case (though one could argue that there is precedent, in that the Toymaker entering our universe apparently made such things more generally possible, as with the Doctor and Ruby's musical introduction to the goblins). But my feeling is, if you wanna do a musical episode — which RTD clearly does, and which many of us would welcome — then do a full musical episode, not just a shoehorned-in number that feels out of place.

    On this point, perhaps we need a 3b: the musical number itself ("There's always a twist at the end!") appears to be building up to some massive surprise reveal, which then... totally fails to materialize. Rather hilariously, it's not at all obvious that there really is a twist at the end, though I've seen three theories proposed: (1) The twist is meant to be the musical number itself, in which case it seems self-indulgent. (2) The twist is the reveal that Henry Arbinger is still hanging around, which might presage a return for Maestro or perhaps some other member of the Pantheon; but that moment is presented so offhandedly as to hardly constitute a dramatic twist. and (3) The 'twist' is Susan Twist herself, who appeared earlier in the episode as a tea lady (though not during the musical number). If that's the intention, then this is hilarious. But it seems like this song called for a more dramatic recognizable plot surprise.

  4. The final musical battle is quite anti-climactic. Where is the drama in watching characters play music at each other? It's much like the way Nightmare in Silver tried to get us all tense from watching a game of chess. Similarly, there's no tension at all in watching this play-off, because it's not clear how they're able to (or even trying to) top one another. Which makes it all the more perplexing when it turns out to be Maestro, of all people, whose instrument shatters first. Likewise, it's not at all clear how the Doctor miraculously finds the first 6 notes of the chord to banish Maestro; it appears to be by pure luck. (Still, I love the Doctor's ragtime playing. Also I did not know that Jinkx could play the violin!)

RTD is still mining the Doctor Who back catalogue. This week we have two prime examples: first, a nearly shot-for-shot remake of Pyramids of Mars, specifically the sequence in which the Doctor takes Sarah back to 1980 to witness firsthand how Sutekh will alter human history if he's not stopped in 1911. Here, Ruby protests, "The word did not end in 1963. No, but it didn't! Okay? I'm living proof." In this case, though, it feels like a scene that needed to be remounted for this new audience, to the point that it's surprising it even took this long. And the remounted scene is no less powerful — in fact, it's probably more powerful, because the effect of a smoking, demolished London is so very much more convincing than the foggy, barren rocky model set from 1975. Second, in the Doctor's attempt to find the chord to banish Maestro, we have a clone of the "3-3-7!" scene from The Keeper of Traken, as the Doctor finds all but the final note before the piano is dashed out of his grasp.

As enjoyable and lighthearted as I find this story, I'm not sure it's the best showcase for the Doctor and Ruby. For Gatwa the actor, yes — I'm not sure the man is capable of turning in a less than rivetting performance. But for the Doctor, this story is a bit of an odd duck.

Especially at the start of the fifteenth Doctor's era, I fear that it's not a great look for him to flee from two enemies in a row. (Ruby rather bizarrely claims that "You never hide!", despite having now witnessed him hide — from the bogeyman and Maestro — in two out of three adventures together.) Plus he appears to give up completely ("I can't fight this thing!"), which makes the rest of the episode feel like the Doctor merely fleeing to stay unnoticed and alive, rather than scheming up a plot to defeat the villain. But Gatwa is one of those actors for whom literally every line delivery is a marvel, and I think that places him among a very high echelon. Great delivery of "Finland? That never happened!", "It tore my soul in half. I can't survive that again.", and "The last time I got lucky, catch. One trick, once.", and I adore the way the Doctor struts out the TARDIS door.

Ruby fares slightly better here: she cleverly thinks on her feet to figure out a way to sneak them into the studio where the Beatles are recording ("Hi! Janet said we could take over, so you can have ten minutes off."), and her musical ability has plot relevance, when Ruby becomes the only human on Earth who's capable of playing proper music on a piano. But aside from that, she doesn't really do anything besides tag along next to the Doctor. Perhaps more importantly, I spent the entire two-part premiere waiting for That One Scene that would mine Gibson's talents and win me over to being a Ruby Sunday fan, but it hasn't happened yet. I'm still optimistically waiting, and Gibson does have some great deliveries here — her very fun "Oh! I am having the best time!", her brief hesitation before she walks to the TARDIS doors to witness the present day, her bouncing with delight at the prospect of questioning John Lennon, "Oh, oh, okay.", and I find myself loving her little 'gaah!'s of excitement; and this week Ruby seems to be regarding the villain with the seriousness that they merit, rather than with irrepressible giggling — but still no scenes that have made me marvel at her acting chops. And there are still a few lines that don't quite ring true to me, like "Oh my god! There's no more love songs in the whole wide world?!" and "But what's the point?! You've destroyed the world! Music is gone! How is that a win?" But back to the plus side, her outfit is fantastic; I especially love Ruby's beehive and go-go boots. And Ruby's mysterious backstory gets mined a bit more this week: Maestro reveals that this involuntary ability to manifest snowflakes is the same power possessed by The One Who Waits. Interesting!

This week, the rapport between the Doctor and Ruby is beginning to show strongly. The scene of the Doctor and Ruby dancing across the zebra crossing together is really cute, and I loved their simultaneous uncertain intake of breath as they look at one another after the Beatles have demonstrated their first song.

I am, I cringe to say, not enough of a devoted Beatles fan to be able to comment on how accurately the four actors (George Caple as Paul McCartney, Chris Mason as John Lennon, Philip Davies as George Harrison, and James Hoyles as Ringo Starr) embody their real-life counterparts. But they're great singers and fun in their roles, especially Caple.

Jeremy Limb is wonderful as frustrated musical genius turned piano teacher Timothy Drake, who shows clear reverence for, and deep knowledge of, music history. It's Drake's monologue that immediately sets The Devil's Chord apart from Space Babies, as he plays Beethoven's melancholy Piano Sonata No. 1 under the diffuse sunlight streaming from an overhead stained-glass window. Immediately, this gives The Devil's Chord a somber tone that Space Babies utterly lacked — not that that seriousness is entirely going to last, once Jinkx Monsoon sinks her teeth into the script! But it's a lovely palate cleanser of an opening. And Limb's similarly melancholy performance is superb: "All that rage and fury, out of which, something beautiful." Honestly I'm a bit surprised that Drake is killed off so quickly, given how masterfully Limb handles every word of dialogue he's given.

I really enjoyed Kit Rakusen as Henry Arbinger: the way his eyes widen with a frisson of forbidden excitement when Drake mentions the devil's chord ("Tell me more, sir!"). Especially because, on rewatching, you can tell that all those moments you thought were just childish excitement are actually devilish anticipation, and I love it. I'm eager to see more from him too, and fingers crossed, that return is indeed in the cards.

Because this story is such a three-hander between Gatwa, Gibson, and Monsoon, none of the other actors really have much of a chance to distinguish themselves. But I really enjoyed their performances, especially by Sherinne Kayra Anderson as the tea trolley lady whose cart Ruby borrows, and Simon Jason-Smith as Vinnie, who hauls the Doctor's piano up to the rooftop.

This week's Susan Twist appearance is as the Tea Lady, and yet again I found myself wondering why the tea lady was given such a prominent speech about Margaret Lockwood, until I realized who was playing her. I'm sure I've mentioned before that I'm one of those folks who isn't particularly interested in theorizing about these little mysteries, or in reading other people's theories. If I get my hopes up about a proposal and it's wrong, I'll be disappointed. If I accidentally guess it right, it'll take the wind out of their sails (and mine). So I much prefer to sit back, enjoy the ride, and experience the full rush of emotion whenever RTD decides to pop the surprise.

I didn't even realize that one of the women quietly appreciating Ruby's piano was June Hudson herself! although I think subconsciously I knew she looked familiar. What a delight that she was able to make a cameo in the revival. And it's such a great cameo: it's June, more than anyone, who really sells the idea of a Londoner hearing and appreciating music for the first time. And then poor June Hudson, with music reawakened, distracts Maestro and seals her own fate at the piano! If you'd told me back in 2013 that one day I'd watch Jinkx Monsoon playing a Doctor Who villain who murders June Hudson, I'd never have believed you. (Jinkx also posted a really sweet photo of the two of them together; adorable!)

It's cool that Murray Gold makes a cameo in this week's episode, too, playing the piano during the big musical number. (However, points detracted for the lyrics of that song, which make very little sense. I didn't despise "There's Always a Twist" like so many others apparently did, but the lyrics seem to have been cobbled together overnight, and chosen purely for their rhyming ability.) However, I love the song that Ruby plays on the piano, which I'm sure he composed; what a gorgeous sad little tune. (Though I do wonder where all the other instrumentation comes in from; for story impact, I'd have preferred if it had remained a piano solo. But in an episode where the Doctor can perceive non-diegetic music, I suppose this is a non-issue.) And California Soul (presumably from the TARDIS jukebox!) is the perfect song to accompany that languid shot of the Doctor and Ruby strolling out of the wardrobe room, dressed to the nines.

And I'm sorry, but I actually have to give Murray Gold credit for writing a so-called bad song — "I've Got a Dog" — that I actually really like. No lie, that song has started running through my head, on multiple occasions (usually while washing dishes!), a full week after first watching the episode. Why so catchy??? (As I was working on finishing up this review, the night of May 22 my own brain came up with a song called "Angel Potato" which it slotted into one of my dreams, in which I opened the refrigerator door to find a potato on one of the shelves. All I can remember is that it was the words 'angel potato' over and over again, and so I blame "I've Got a Dog" for making my subconscious mind think that it could live up to that songwriting bar.)

Effects are somewhat variable this week; on the downside, the CGI effect of Maestro's staves flying through the air and wrapping themselves around people doesn't look awfully convincing, but I'll get over it. In contrast, I love all the fantastic reflections of Maestro looking creepy (and Jinkx is killing me with her new "Jinkx Monspoon" screenshot avatar on Twitter/X). There's a superb instantaneous transition from the ruined London cityscape to a darkened piano-bar stage, a really effective reversed shot of Maestro catching the violin and bow, and a gorgeous shot of the glassy notes hanging in midair as the Beatles walk up to the Mrs Mills piano.

I really liked Ben Chessell's direction, which felt confident but not necessarily showy. But the scenes that particularly grabbed me were the lovely sequence of Ruby playing the piano on the roof all by herself, as the Doctor stares out over the city; the artsy close-up of Maestro's tuning fork vibrating droplets out of a puddle on the street; a quite freaky shot of Maestro climbing out of June Hudson's piano, eep!; and some kinetic camerawork as the Doctor races through the studio corridors.

Appropriately enough, I watched The Devil's Chord after spending the preceding Monday to Wednesday in Liverpool, where I finally got to visit the Museum of Liverpool (where Dan volunteered) and absorb a little info about the Beatles. I kept thinking I should do more Beatles prep, but since I'd already visited the Beatles Story museum the last time I was in Liverpool, I didn't! Shame on me. Before starting this one, I refreshed my hotel tea and cracked open a box of Mr Kipling's cherry bakewell tarts (yum yum). Both the snacks and the episode were an improvement over the previous hour.

Minor points:

Well, aside from the gleeful-but-inexplicable ending, that was a lot of fun. Sure, there are elements I personally would've tweaked (like having more plot to drive the story), but I can't be too mad at any story that showcases the talents of Jinkx Monsoon. More of Maestro, please! (Perhaps to kickstart an actual musical episode?) And next let's bring on Pandora Boxx (evidence here and here) and Tia Kofi to play their sisters, mmkay?


posted: 24 May 2024

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