John Kenneth Muir's Blog, page 898

Cult-TV Theme Watch: Judges

There
has been much talk of “activist judges” on both sides of the political aisle
for years now, but in general, judges are supposed to be paragons of virtue:
impartial arbiters of the law who are above and beyond the vicissitudes and
passions of the moment and must consider law based on history, tradition, and our
obligation to a better, more equitable society in the future.




In
broad terms, judges are men and women who issue judgments about the law based
on knowledge, experience, and yes, personal interpretation.  Except during political campaigns, judges are
generally held in high regard in Western society, as seems plain from both the superior
position of the bench in the courtroom -- high
above the lawyers and jury’s station -- and from standard judge’s garb,
traditionally black or red robes.




But
in cult television history, judges have not always been successful impartial
arbiters of law.  Sometimes, in fact,
they have passed judgment in the most ruthless of ways, and with secret agendas. 




The
alien who “judges” humanity, in fact, is a common trope in Gene Roddenberry’s Star
Trek universe.  Star
Trek: The Next Generation (1987 – 1994) utilized the concept as its creative
book-end in the premiere episode “Encounter at Farpoint” and the series finale,
“All Good Things.” 






In
both situations, the omnipotent Q (John De Lancie) brought Captain Picard
(Patrick Stewart) and his command crew to a 21st century legal
proceeding where Q acted as judge (and prospective executioner).  The matter he judged: were humans a
grievously savage race, guilty of terrible crimes in the galaxy?  Picard not only had to defend his crew, but
the human race, and even human history.




In
earlier Star Trek lore, another mischievous God-being, Trelane (William
Campbell) held court and passed judgment on Captain Kirk (William Shatner) in the
first season story “The Squire of Gothos.” 
There, Trelane accused the good captain of conspiracy, treason and
fomenting insurrection, crimes which would see Kirk hang.  Memorably, the specter of a noose hung over
Kirk as this judge prepared to rule against him.






On
Deep
Space Nine (1993 – 1999), Chief Miles O’Brien (Colm Meaney) had his own
run-in with a nasty judge: Makbar, the Archon on Cardassia Prime.  In an episode reminiscent of Kafka’s The Trial,
O’Brien was held in the Cardassian legal system he couldn’t comprehend for a
crime he did not commit.




Space:
1999 (1975 –
1977) also featured some villainous judge characters. In “The Rules of Luton,” Moonbase
Alpha’s Commander John Koenig (Martin Landau) faced the cruel justice of the
Judges of Luton, three living trees (!) on a world populated by sentient
plants.  Again, the idea here was of the
human race running afoul of indecipherable alien law and being judged by
standards not its own.  In this case, the
Judges of Luton, like Trelane before them, were terribly brutal and believed
that ignorance of the law was no excuse for criminal behavior. 




Koenig’s
crime?  Along with Maya (Catherine
Schell), he picked a flower and sampled a berry.  But on Luton, of course, those were the acts
of murderers…






On
Battlestar
Galactica (1978 – 1979), Commander Adama (Lorne Greene) once had to
briefly adopt the role of Judge for the Colonial Fleet when Starbuck (Dirk
Benedict) was accused of murdering Ortega, a competitor in the game of Triad.  In the tradition of all drama set on terra firma, Judge Adama even spoke an
immortal line about a lawyer’s defense being “highly irregular.”




There
were at least a few episodes of Buck Rogers in the 25th Century
(1979 – 1981) in which judges were also seen. 
In “Time of the Hawk,” Hawk (Thom Christopher) was tried for murder
before a council of cosmic judges, but thanks to Buck’s appearance as a
character witness, spared the death sentence. 
Later in the same season, Buck was tried as a traitor himself in “Testimony
of a Traitor.”




Judges
have also appeared in far more grounded settings in cult-tv history.  A panel of FBI higher-ups judged Mulder
(David Duchovny) during the finale of The X-Files , “The Truth,” and a
regular character on Picket Fences (1992 – 1996) was
Judge Henry Bone (Ray Walston), a man who --
in keeping with his name -- could feel
justice in his bones.  Judge Bone was a
flawless legal and moral barometer, and always balanced the law perfectly.




We
have also met some unofficial and frightening judges in cult-tv history.  In two second season episodes of Buffy
the Vampire Slayer (“Surprise” and “Innocence,”), Buffy (Sarah Michelle
Gellar) was forced to combat a fearsome blue skinned demon called “The Judge”
(Brian Thompson) who could separate the wicked from the righteous at a touch….literally
burning up the wicked.






One
of
Millennium’s (1996 – 1999) most memorable early episodes, “The Judge”
gazed closely at the idea of vigilantism in late-1990s America.  There, a self-proclaimed “judge” (Marshall
Bell) set out to deliver his own brand of justice to those who had escaped the
reach of the law.  When he was revealed
to be a hypocrite for his views on crime and punishment, the judge was punished
most egregiously.  One of his own
enforcers fed him to his pigs.  Importantly,
“the judge” did not die before offering Frank Black (Lance Henriksen) a job as
a vigilante enforcer. It was an offer that noble Black quite rightly turned
down…

The Cult-TV Faces of: The Judge

Identified by Chris G: Fritz Weaver in The Twilight Zone: "The Obsolete Man."





Identified by Hugh: Trelane (William Campbell) in Star Trek: "The Squire of Gothos."





Identified by Meredith: The Judges of Luton from Space: 1999:" The Rules of Luton."





Identified by Andrew Glazebrook: Blake's 7: "The Way Back."





Identified by Hugh: Commander Adama (Lorne Greene) in BSG: "Murder on the Rising Star."





Identified by Hugh: Buck Rogers in the 25th Century: "Testimony of a Traitor."





Identified by Hugh: Q (John De Lancie) in Star Trek: The Next Generation: "Encounter at Farpoint."





Identified by Hugh: Judge Henry Bone (Ray Walston) on Picket Fances.





Identified by the Sci-Fi Fanatic: Millennium's "The Judge" (Marshall Bell) from "The Judge"



Identified by Chris G: Makbar (Caroline Lagerfelt) in Deep Space Nine: "Tribunal."





Identified by Chris G: "The Judge" (Brian Thompson) in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.





Identified by Chris G: The X-Files: "The Truth."

Television and Cinema Verities # 20

"If you're trying to sell the horror and scare people, the show must be firmly grounded in reality.  The people had to be real and react in a real way.  Kolchak is the only character who should have his feet not quite on the ground.  How could you expect people to be seriously frightened by a monster if they don't believe all the other characters?"




- Darren McGavin discusses Kolchak: The Night Stalker in Fangoria # 3 with interviewer Berthe Roeger. December 1979, page 39.

Space:1999 author Bill Latham on Destinies: The Voice of Science Fiction

It's been my great pleasure and honor during the last decade to work on the Powys Media officially licensed Space: 1999 novel series.  




One of the perks of that job -- besides writing in a universe I absolutely love -- has been familiarizing myself with the works of author Bill Latham, the talented author behind titles such as Space: 1999 Resurrection , and the epic two-part  Omega and Alpha , as well as the original Frankenstein novel, Mary's Monster.  




Bill has also been one of the most important guiding forces behind-the-scenes of the novel line, serving as editor on the anthology Shepherd Moon , for instance.  I've met Bill twice in person and I count him as a great friend as well as a terrific writer.




So it was a real thrill to catch up with him, at least a little, by listening to him discuss his written work and Space: 1999 on Dr. Howard Margolin's great sci-fi talk show, Destinies: The Voice of Science Fiction.




If you're interested in Space: 1999 , the novel line, and even the inside-baseball of writing original books for a sci-fi franchise, I highly recommend this audio interview.  You can listen to Bill and Howard's discussion here, including an excerpt from Bill's Space: 1999 work.




Check it out!

Cult-TV Blogging: Otherworld: "Mansion of the Beast" (March 9, 1985)

Otherworld unexpectedly but delightfully becomes
a fairy tale fantasy in this out-of-the-norm next-to-last installment of the
series, “Mansion of the Beast.”  In very
specific terms, “Mansion of the Beast” revisits the famous story of Beauty
and the Beast (1740), with June Sterling (Gretchen Corbett) in the Beauty
role, and a strange inter-dimensional traveler, Virago (Alan Feinstein) as the inhuman
Beast.






The
story begins with the Sterlings traversing a lovely fairy tale forest.  A beast – half
man and half-savage -- materializes before them and proclaims himself the
King of the Trees and the Lord of the Animals. This is Virago, and he refuses
to let the family continue its journey unless June remains with him in his
lonely country mansion.  Hal refuses to
sacrifice his wife to such a monster, and is immediately put into a deep sleep
by Virago.




While
Mom remains with Virago, the children head into the woods to find help for
Hal.  They meet Akin (John Astin), Virago’s
brother.  Akin reveals that Virago was
once a great scientist and charismatic leader, but his attempt to cross
dimensions to reach the mythical land of Earth only returned him here as a
beast. 




Worse,
Virago seems to be losing his humanity by the day…




But
Virago is taken with June.  He first
observed her attempting to heal the wing of a wounded owl, and has fallen in
love with her.  Now he offers her life in
a beautiful mansion, but she misses her family, and can never love the Beast as
he desires.  “I have never, ever, been loved,” Virago tells June, and she sows
sympathy and compassion for the lonely creature.






Meanwhile,
Hal undertakes a quest to capture and refine “cold star fire,” the only substance in the universe that can kill
the Beast.  When June expresses to Virago
her loneliness and the desire to see her family again, he allows her to leave….with
a caveat.  He makes her promise she will
return in one day’s time.  While she is
gone, however, Hal arrives and kills the beast. 
But June’s love is redemptive, and transforms the Beast into a human
again…




From
the Beauty
and the Beast stories, “Mansion of the Beast” adapts several important
themes and notions.  The first is of a
Beast who trusts his beauty…and makes her promise to return to him.  And the second is the idea that the tears of
Beauty can bring Beast back to life, and restore his soul.  These ideas are a little out of place in the
hard sci-fi universe of Otherworld , but it’s an interesting
notion to dramatize this story and imply, at least a little, that we get our fairy
tales of Beauty and the Beast from Virago and his inter-dimensional
journey.




Other
fairy tale characteristics abound in this tale. John Astin plays a character
who will remind you of the Woodsman or Lumberjack from Little Red Riding Hood ,
and Hal is put into a deep sleep from which he cannot awake, a lot like poor
Snow White.  In terms of fairy tale
format, this Otherworld mimics the Campbell Heroic Quest, with Hal
going bare-chested on a mission  to
retrieve cold star fire.  After he
recovers the mineral, we see a blacksmith (Akin) tempering the cold star fire…making
a heroic weapon from it, in the spirit of Excalibur.    With
all these touches, “Mansion of the Beast” is clever and knowing in terms of its
narrative, a post-modern exploration of fairy tale tropes.






In
terms of Otherworld lore, “Mansion of the Beast” is an extremely
important episode for the canon.  It establishes
a great deal of information about the Sterlings’ quest to return home.  We learn that Emar (or Imar, perhaps) is home
to a group of “signpost astrologers” who speak regularly of Earth, and the
other world there.  Also, Virago leaves
June and the Sterlings with a riddle about their way home:




“Look for the
valley of vision, where the slain are not slain with swords, and the darkest
shadows of light.  There, you will find a
door.”




Unfortunately,
Otherworld
did not survive long enough to explore this riddle, or what precisely it
meant.  “Mansion of the Beast” is
followed by just one more episode, “Princess Metra.”  Still, I truly admire this short-lived series’
willingness to take chances and move the narrative in imaginative, unexpected
directions.  We saw a funny post-modern
take on rock history in “Rock and Roll Suicide” and now “Mansion of the Beast”
apes fairy tale form and shape.




Next
week:  The end of Otherworld comes with “Princess
Metra.”

Sweet Post-apocalyptic Rides (1970s Edition)

Ark II.





Ark II's "roamer."





Strange New World's Vesta Explorer.





The hover car from Logan's Run: The Series.





Damnation Alley's Landmaster.





Directorate Land Rover from Buck Rogers in the 25th Century.

Saturday Morning Cult-TV Blogging: Ark II: "The Rule" (October 30, 1976)

In
the second episode of Ark II, entitled “The Rule,” Captain
Jonah (Terry Lester) makes log entry 1441, which puts this episode ahead of
last week’s “The Flies” in terms of internal continuity.  Making the entry as the Ark II patrols “Area 32, Sector 16” Jonah notes the
presence in the area of “primitive cave
dwellers.”  




His
team’s mission: “to improve the quality
of their lives” in “any way” the
crew can.




While
Adam and Ruth (Jean Marie Hon) are out patrolling in the Ark Roamer, local
scavengers attack the Ark II, and Jonah orders Samuel (Jose Flores) to activate
lateral and vertical force fields.  As
the scavengers hurl rocks at the advanced vehicle, the force fields repel them,
sending the stones back in the air.  This
effect is achieved by reversing the film, a cheap technique but one that still
looks stunning.




When
Ruth is injured in a Roamer crash and Adam goes to look for help, a young man
named Jeff (David Abbott) rescues her and takes her back to his village.  Unfortunately, Jeff’s father is the ruler of
the village and he imposes a draconian “rule” upon all citizens.  Anyone who cannot work to support the village
must be “cast out” into the wilderness. 
On this day, the ruler plans to exile a blind man and an old woman for
their inability to toil in the fields.




After Jeff himself is injured while attempting to build a hang-glider, his father
adheres to the mandatory rule, and exiles his son.  Though Ruth complains about a cruel society
that doesn’t care for its most vulnerable members, Jeff’s father is unmoved.  He is stuck in tradition, and can’t see
outside of it.




Soon,
scavengers steal the livestock and food from the village, leaving it without
supplies to survive the coming winter. 
Ruth, Jeff and the other exiles team with Jonah, Adam and Samuel to set
a trap for the scavengers and recover the stolen supplies.   When the cast-out members return to the
village with the missing resources, the ruler finally recognizes their worth --
and the error of his ways -- and
promise to abolish “the rule” from this day forward.




In
the second episode produced, though the eighth aired (on October 30th,
1976), Ark II gazes intently at the price of survival.  In a difficult, post-apocalyptic setting such
as this one, everyone must contribute to the communal good, but human (and
humane…) societies must also care of the elderly and the disabled.  In this village, that’s explicitly not the
case, and the Ark II team arrives to remind the cruel villagers that “each of us – young and old alike – has a
skill” to contribute.  Civilization
forgets that fact at its own peril, and could take a “giant step backwards” according to Jonah in his log entry.






Although
aired nearly thirty years ago, “The Rule” grapples with ideas that are still
important in contemporary American society. Do we live by the law of the
jungle, or the laws of humanity?  Even in
times of austerity and want, can mankind still be civilized and care for those
who can’t care for themselves?  Some
people see that kind of “care” is actually a hand-out to be disdained, while
others view it as a sacred duty.  “The
Rule” also suggests that some “laws” must be applied flexibly, or human society
could lose its sense of compassion and devolve into cruelty.




In
terms of the development of Ark II’s fictitious world, this
episode shows us more of the Ark Roamer, and the Ark II’s powerful force
fields.  “The Rule” also reveals a unique
hand-held device: a defensive weapon of some kind, which can cause brief
blindness in an opponent long enough to distract them or make an escape.  I don’t remember if it shows up again in the
series, but I’ll be looking for it.






Probably
the big question in this week’s episode involves Adam.  In case you forgot, he’s the super-evolved
chimpanzee, the one with the capacity to speak. 
Oddly, when Ruth is knocked unconscious in the Roamer accident, Adam
does not choose to verbally respond as Samuel attempts to contact the
vehicle.  Doesn’t he know how to use the radio?  Why does Adam leave Ruth alone and go in
search of Ark II, when he could open a channel to the vehicle and report,
verbally, what occurred?  That’s
something of an inconsistency.  We’re not
meant to view the character as an uncommunicative animal but as an intelligent
character.  He plays chess, after all, as
we saw in “The Flies.”




The
coda for “The Rule” also brings up a question that probably should not have
been raised at all.  We see Adam wearing
a chef’s hat and preparing dinner for the human crew in the Ark II’s kitchen
area.  Really…a chimpanzee preparing meals?  I’m not entirely certain about the hygiene
aspects of this.  Would you fix food
prepared by an ape?  Is Adam smart enough
to understand hygiene?  




Does he shower or
otherwise bathe?  Does he wash his…paws?




Once
more, the very worst aspect of Ark II is the strange inclusion of a
talking monkey as a crew member.  It
would have been wonderful and worthwhile if the makers of the series had chosen
to define Adam’s capacities and characteristics a bit more clearly, early on.




Next Saturday: "The Tank"

Cult Movie Review: Lost in Space (1998)

It
was the summer of my discontent. The blockbuster season of 1998 brought
lackluster revivals of two childhood favorites, Godzilla and Lost
in Space .  I came away from
screening both films nurturing a belief that -- literally all at once -- Hollywood had forgotten how to make entertaining
movies based on beloved genre properties. 





Yes,
Hollywood was capable of crafting spectacular special effect, yet something
rung terribly hollow at the heart of
both of these lavish remakes.  




Perhaps
the problem is that the A-list actors, writers, producers and directors engaged in
these remakes were essentially working with “B” material, but without the
appreciation or zeal for the material that the original “B” movie teams had so
clearly and abundantly demonstrated in the past.




There’s
a crucial difference, we must finally acknowledge between creating an original work of art and inheriting that same property years later, determined to make it “relevant”
and “popular” again. 




The
artistry, invention and love that goes into making something for the very first time is not
necessarily the same thing as -- years after the property has made its name -- applying
a paint job, or a superficial renovation.  But of course, even Lost in Spac e the TV series was an adaptation of a work of art in a different form, Space Family Robinson .




But the point is that when
a movie remake is launched, the property already possesses a history, a context, a
vibe, and a perception by the culture-at-large. 
The critical task of the remake-r is to interpret those pre-existing
characteristics and determine the “why” behind the initial and residual
success.




But
that “why” isn’t always easy to understand, and it is even more difficult to
replicate.




The
message -- which I understood in 1998 and
try to hold in my thoughts even now
-- is that you can’t go home again.






Lost
in Space
(1965 – 1968) is irrevocably a product of its time, the mid-1960s. As a series
it combined fairy tale whimsy and innocence with a schizophrenic approach to science
and the future.  On one hand, the
Robinson pioneers possessed all of this wonderful, space-age, Matt-Mason-like
technology to make their lives easier, and on the other hand the same
technology had stranded them in some far corner of the universe.




Lost in Space  on TV also featured this
great, mid-1960s space age paraphernalia: boxy, oversized and predominantly silver,
with lots of blinking, bright lights. 
There was a can-do attitude – a holdover
from Camelot, perhaps – at work in the series too, despite the premise of
being “lost.”  And love or hate the Dr.
Smith role and the use to which the character was put during three tumultuous seasons,
Jonathan Harris exhibited incredible commitment to that role.




And
the 1998 Lost in Space movie? 




Absolutely
no expense was spared in terms of special effects, in terms of sets, and in
terms of lead actors, but somehow the movie doesn’t connect on the same simple
human level that the series did on a weekly basis. 




The
filmmakers apparently believe we want to see in this franchise weaving spaceships and lots and
lots of fireballs.  They think that’s “the
why” of Lost in Space , though the Irwin Allen series could afford no
such bells and whistles.




Or
perhaps the movie doesn’t work because, in a bow to reality and the drastic
changes in American culture, the new Lost in Space family is portrayed as
wholly dysfunctional and somewhat unpleasant.  This is an attempt to make the family-oriented
property fit in better during a new era; to reflect our 1990s era domestic reality.  But it’s nonetheless a change that isn’t
entirely welcome.  It’s very much the
same problem that plagued the new Battlestar Galactica re-imagination.




There’s
a vast difference between a family facing challenges and crises from the outside – a kind of Little House on the Prairie template, where life throws ample challenges
at you – and facing internal, personal character flaws such as alcoholism or narcissism.  In a dramatic crisis
situation and sci-fi setting, like the extermination of the human race or
being lost in space, viewers want to see – I
believe – characters clinging together and fighting the “elements,” as it
were, not battling “personal” subplots about alcoholism that were trite when As
the World Turns vetted them thirty years ago.   I think people want to see the best of mankind
fighting the Cylons or space spiders, not the worst of us.




Or
finally, maybe this 1988 movie fails simply because some of the casting doesn’t
seem based on who is best for the role, but who boasts the most marquee
value.  Matt Le Blanc, in particular,
doesn’t exude the intelligence necessary to portray a believable space
pilot.  His gum-chewing horn-toad comes off
as hopelessly and irrevocably dumb.  His dialogue,
consisting of lines like “Yee hah!,” “show time!” and “last one to get a bad guy buys the beer,” is banal on a level that the old TV series could not even have conceived




Critics,
generally, weren’t impressed with Lost in Space.   Writing in The New York Times, Janet
Maslin wrote:
“This "Lost in Space" is
much more chaotic and less innocent than its source.”  Roger Ebert (accurately) termed the film “dim-witted,”
and The San Francisco Chronicle called
it “a warm wallow in the cinema of the dumbed-down.” 




All these critics were chipping away at the edges
of one particularly relevant argument: that
child-like innocence has been supplanted by a kind of witless breathlessness.  The original Lost in Space wasn’t
Shakespeare to be certain, but nor was it patently, overtly, cheerfully dumb.  Some episodes, even today, play as lyrical
fairy tales, stories of family values re-asserted in a land of
extra-terrestrial magic, and occasional terror. 




You can’t look back honestly at some of those old
black-and-white stories, like “My Friend, Mr. Nobody,” “One of Our Dogs is
Missing” or “The Magic Mirror” without feeling a sense of wondrous, child-like
imagination, if not strict devotion to established science.  It might have more in common with The Wizard of Oz than Star Trek , but Lost in Space , the TV series...had something, especially in those early black and white days.




By contrast, the Lost in Space movie seeks
to hammer the audience with a pile-up of catastrophic incidents (many
admittedly interesting, at least initially), and at the same time, pay lip
service to the family values vibe of the original. 




In a bit of too-clever criticism, the movie’s Dr.
Smith asks at one point: “will every
little problem be an excuse for family sentiment?”  That is precisely the movie’s modus operandi.  To its ultimate detriment.




“And the monkey flips the switch”






In 2058, Earth is on the edge of oblivion.  The environment is dying and the only hope
for survival is to colonize a faraway world, Alpha Prime.  To do so, however, two “hyper gates” must be
built, one in Earth orbit, and one in orbit of Alpha Prime.  When both are up and running, colony ships can
jump instantly from one point to the other, and the relocation of man can
begin.




Professor John Robinson (William Hurt) leads a
mission to Alpha Prime to construct the second hypergate. Because of the long duration of the mission -- a decade -- his family comes along aboard the Jupiter 2.  Among the crew are his wife Maureen Robinson (Mimi
Rogers), physician Judy Robinson (Heather Graham), petulant teenager Penny (Lacey
Chabert) and boy genius Will (Jack Johnson).




But Professor Robinson’s problems begin when a
new, less-than-cooperative hot shot pilot, Major West (Matt Le Blanc) assumes
the role of pilot on Jupiter 2, and a saboteur from the Global Sedition, Dr.
Smith (Gary Oldman) programs the ship’s Robot (Dick Tufeld) to destroy the
Robinsons once the craft is in flight.




Averting a disaster in space, the Jupiter 2 “jumps”
through the sun and becomes hopelessly lost in space and time.  The Robinsons run afoul of strange, alien
spiders on a derelict spaceship, and later crash-land on an inhospitable planet
where they encounter their future, tragically-altered selves. 




There -- in that peek into a dark future -- John gets the chance to see how his absence
as a father has affected a grown-up Will.




“There are monsters everywhere...I know, I am
one.”




Lost in Space
combines a number of plots from the old TV series, including elements of “The
Reluctant Stowaway,” “The Derelict” and any episode in which Dr. Smith makes
trouble for the Robinsons by interfacing with alien biology/technology or
personnel (“Wish Upon A Star,” “Ghost in Space,” “The Space Trader,” “His
Majesty Smith,” “All that Glitters,” “The Dream Monster,” and so on…). 




The film, directed by Stephen Hopkins, also
attempts fidelity in terms of production design.  The Jupiter 1 in the film looks much like the
TV series’ Jupiter 2, for instance, and before the end of the movie, the newer high-tech robot has been re-built by Will to resemble the popular B9, that
famous “bubble-headed booby” and cousin to Robby the Robot.  Even the interiors look like faithful if
updated reconstructions of the 1960s sets, only with more curves and a more
organic feel.




Of all the cast, Le Blanc fares the worst.  He is utterly unlikable as West, and given
the worst dialogue to vet.  William Hurt seems
bored and disconnected as Professor Robinson. 
Mimi Rogers and Heather Graham are okay, and only Gary Oldman absolutely
shines.  In fact, Oldman’s version of the
treacherous Dr. Smith character feels like a real tribute to Jonathan Harris,
coming off as arrogantly self-important and straddling the line between good
and evil.  Oldman mines considerable
humor and menace from the screenplay, and is the movie’s most valuable player.  He's great here.




The most contrived portions of Lost
in Space involve Maureen’s unceasing complaints about John’s “time.”  She constantly nags him about spending more
hours with Will, even though she also has two daughters and he doesn’t spend
any time with them, either.  So yes, apparently
only young boys, not young girls, require quality time with their father.  Who knew the world would be so sexist, still, in 2058? I  guess we know who wins the war on women...   






More crucially, Maureen’s complaints come off as
rather selfish and small given the context of what’s happening around her.  John Robinson is struggling to save the planet Earth and the human race, and sure,
it would be nice if he could attend his son’s science fair. But I wager his
priorities are just about right.  In
fact, I bet if Will were given a choice, he’d decide that his Dad should, you
know, save the planet, so that all
kids can enjoy science fairs for years to come.




The John-needs-to-spend-more-time-with-Will
subplot is a manufactured crisis and a contrivance that isn’t truly believable
given the narrative details.  The movie
sort of proves it’s a non-issue when the older Will – even with Spider Smith as a surrogate father – does the right thing
to save the universe and his family.  I
guess John imparted some good qualities to his boy in the time he had.  He may be "busy" (again, saving the world") but he isn't negligent or absent.




Again, the old series didn’t contend with these “emo”
touches.  The Robinsons were essentially space
pioneers and, well, a planet had to be tamed. 
John Robinson (Guy Williams) was always there for his son if Will (Bill Mumy) needed him, but there
wasn’t this constant hand-wringing on the TV series  about how much time the two were spending
together.  Here, the subplot is a little
touchy-feely and unrealistic given the circumstances.




Bottom line: there’s not a lot of time for father-child
closeness when your spaceship is plunging into the sun, battling metal spiders,
crash-landing, or hovering at the edge of a dangerous space-time bubble.




Sorry, kid.  Suck it
up.




Even family must, as we all know too well, bow to reality,
and I generally resent movies that suggest everything would be okay if a Dad
and son just spent a little more time together.   Meanwhile, the planet is
falling apart…. 




Another problem with the film is that, in post-production,
apparently, someone decided that the film needed to be funnier.  Therefore, we get an
out-of-left-field The Waltons joke (“and good night, John Boy...”) delivered in embarrassed
voice-over.  The problem isn't that the joke isn't funny, though it isn't.  The problem is that it doesn’t
fit the scene.  We get a nice fade-out on
John and Maureen about to have sex, and then the very next instant, we’re onto a sound cue of the same two
characters saying “good night” to each other and the kids, like this is the
galactic Brady Bunch.   Like so
much of the film’s humor, it’s groan-inducing.






As incongruous as that moment remains, the space
creature that the Robinsons discover, Blawp is even worse.  He has been crafted to look absolutely
ridiculous.  The design of this alien
might have fit in on the original series, forty years ago, but it in no way
fits the palette of the 1998 film.  Blawp
doesn’t look like the product of a universe that includes the movie Robinsons and the
truly scary alien metal spiders. 
Instead, Blawp looks as though he was shipped in from the funny pages, circa
1959.  Every time the creature appears,
his presence takes you right out of the reality of the movie. 




It’s not just that the creature is composed of
bad CGI.  It’s that the visualization of the creature is all wrong for
the earthy production canvas; fanciful and whimsical in a movie of skin-tight body
suits and dark browns and greys. 




Despite my reservations about the movie, Lost in Space begins
relatively well. Even though the opening space battle between the Global
Sedition and United Global Space Force is entirely unnecessary, the first hour of
the film establishes well the threat to Earth. The first act boasts a decent pace,
and there’s a respectable level of excitement and anticipation. The battle on the alien derelict
against the metal spiders is also thrilling. From the point, however, in which
John goes into the time bubble, the movie gets lost itself.




Lost and
incoherent.




As the movie ends, Future Will throws Present John
through a time vortex, but it isn’t entirely clear if West already has the power cells
the Jupiter 2 needs for lift-off, if John has them, or if Future Will still has
them.  Why is the Jupiter 2 attempting escape velocity without the power
source it needs?  Why isn't anyone commenting on, essentially, a suicide run?






Then, the movie ends without resolving Dr. Smith’s
crisis. He’s slowly turning into a giant spider monster, but there are no
attempts to treat the condition, or even quarantine the guy.  The movie ends without even a hint of resolution
on this front.  But this is after John,
Will, the Robot and Smith himself have seen his future manifestation.  I very much doubt Smith would stay silent, knowing he is carrying an infection that will transform him into a giant arachnid.




Also, Lost in Space never squares the circle in terms of the future.  The
robot of the future comes back in time to the Jupiter 2…but in the “real”
timeline, Will never finishes building that robot.  So if he does, there will be two robots? 




If he doesn’t finish work on the robot, then
where did the robot come from, having never actually been constructed by Will?  I’m not saying that this is an unworkable
dilemma, only that the movie might have made note of the time
paradox.  A joke about it would have been fine.




As a general premise, Lost in Space boasts great
potential, even today.  The idea of a
family alone on an alien world, trying to make a go of things, offers nearly
infinite story ideas.  You don’t have to
make the movie schmaltzy, or wall-to-wall action to make the scenario work
effectively.  You just need a few
characters you like, some tough conditions, and a sense that – as a
family – the pioneers will stick together and see the mission through,
no matter the challenges.  But this Lost
in Space wants to hit you on the head with incongruous platitudes about
family (a lot like the Dark Shadows remake I reviewed on Tuesday…)
and then wow you with special effects explosions.




Although I felt a legitimate  thrill hearing Dick Tufeld
voice the Robot again in this film, I remember well 1998 and my discontent
regarding this film.   It remains a lost opportunity, and an emotionally hollow adventure.  




Danger, Will
Robinson! 

Movie Trailer: Lost in Space (1998)

Sci-Fi Wisdom of the Week

"Sarcasm is the recourse of the weak mind."




- Lost in Space (1998)