Lost in Space 60th Anniversary: "The Magic Mirror"

In “The Magic Mirror,” a violent storm reveals a weird mystery: a solid platinum alien mirror.  Highly ornamental, the mirror has glowing eyes on its decorative top, and Penny (Angela Cartwright) is intrigued by it. Dr. Smith (Jonathan Harris) by contrast, wants to possess its wealth.

While Penny examines the mirror ore closely, Debbie the monkey actually travels inside it, revealing that the decoration is a portal to another world, a surreal one decorated in quasi-Egyptian fashion.  Penny also goes inside the mirror and finds there a young man (Michael J. Pollard) living alone.

This boy is a Peter Pan-type figure, one who never ages and never grows up.  He wants Penny to be his companion in this everlasting limbo, but she sees the world for what it is: a trap.

Frighteningly, there is also a cyclops/monster living in this world…

If “My Friend, Mr. Nobody” and “The Magic Mirror” are examples, then the Penny-centric episodes of Lost in Space (1965 – 1968) tend to be the best installments of the series.  Perhaps that’s being too broad.

“The Magic Mirror” isn’t quite as terrific as “My Friend, Mr. Nobody,” but -- more than many other installments of this fifty year old series -- it does tread into deeper themes and ideas.  The last Will-centric episode, “Return to Earth” was a puzzle box story about the boy returning to Earth and having to get back to his family in time, but it didn’t really examine Will as a character. By contrast, both Penny stories so far dig deeply into her psychology and feelings.

In “The Magic Mirror,” Penny -- on the verge of adolescence -- doesn’t want to grow up.  She wants to continue being a child, like Will is. She doesn’t care much about grown-up things, and we see this in light of her relationship with Judy.  Judy wants Penny to change her hair and care more for her physical appearance.  It’s a shame that these qualities are stereotypically and sexist female things (especially since Judy is a scientist…), but the series aired fifty years ago, when our culture had very different perceptions of what it means to be male and female.  Despite the kind of hackneyed or out-of-date example -- Penny should dress and wear her hair like a grown-up -- we still get the point.  

And that point is that you can’t resist change, or growing up. It’s inevitable.

Soon after Judy and Penny talk, Penny is thrown into the mirror’s odd universe, a place where there is never any change at all.  This idea of being frozen in time is captured visually by the fact that stopped clocks seem to litter this world, weird tokens without purpose or function.

In this world, a Peter Pan-like character, The Boy lives in eternal youth, never growing, never maturing.  He forever dwells in the land of games and play.

Penny is drawn to this youthful, exuberant character, but before long realizes how this stasis has trapped him, and diminished him.  The surreal world of the mirror is one of eternal life, but also eternal stagnation.  

What is the purpose of life if you never change, never grow?  The Boy notes “it’s just the way we always are,” and Penny, despite her affection for him, realizes that she doesn’t desire stagnation to be her destiny.  

She opts out. She tries to bring the boy with him, but he won’t come.

In the episode’ last scene, Penny no longer resists coming adolescence. She changes her hair-style, and thus symbolically she lets go of being a kid, and takes the first steps towards adult-hood.  She has learned, through the narrative’s events, that change is the essential process of all life, and it is better to embrace it than to resist it.  Stagnation is death, in a very real sense.  

Again, it is easy to quibble with how the episode parses being a “grown up” -- focused on external, physical qualities like hair-style and wardrobe – and yet “The Magic Mirror” is still sweet and, indeed, bittersweet.  

Although Penny faces growing up with composure, she is still bracing for an ending; for a loss.  Childhood does end, and that’s sad. But adulthood will possess wonders for her as well.  This story could be re-done today in a less simplistic (and yes, sexist…) way, and still be amazingly powerful and relevant.  All of us go through this transition, the letting go of childish things…but not always entirely willingly.

In terms of series continuity, “The Magic Mirror” continues the tradition of featuring Dr. Smith as an avaricious fool.  He really serves no purpose in this story except to take attention away from Penny, and the magical world she encounters in the mirror.  We already know that Smith is greedy, so his attempts to acquire the mirror don’t add to our understanding of the character.

More intriguing, perhaps, is the casting of Michael J. Pollard as “the Boy,” a Peter Pan figure, as I noted above, who lingers in eternal childhood.  He plays a variation of this role -- a man-child refusing to brace change or adulthood – in the classic Star Trek episode “Miri.”

Lost in Space 60th Anniversary: "The War of the Robots"

In one corner, we have Robby the Robot, famous cinematic automaton of the classic film, Forbidden Planet (1956). 

And in the other corner, we have lovable B-9, mechanical guardian of our space family Robinson and popular hero of Lost in Space.

May the best robot win!

In very silly terms, that's the set-up for this classic first season Lost in Space (1965-1968) episode, "The War of the Robots," which aired originally on CBS on February 9, 1966.

Here, the stranded Robinsons unexpectedly discover a quiescent "robotoid" in an overgrown grove near their homestead, covered in vines. 

The Robinsons' protective robot insists the alien machine (Robby...) is an "extreme danger" to the humans, in part because of Robby's very nature: he's a "robotoid" (unlike the Robot), and robotoids are advanced machines which can go beyond the bounds of their programming.

Robotoids have a "choice,” according to the Robot in the way they follow (or don't follow...) orders and instructions. 

The Robinsons and especially Dr. Smith (Jonathan Harris) believe their Robot is just jealous of the new machine, which -- when activated by Will (Bill Mumy) -- shows an affinity for repairing watches, the damaged chariot, and other crucial devices.

Dr. Smith derides the familiar family robot as a "clumsy has-been" and "obsolete" as, in short order, Robby the Robotoid becomes practically invaluable to the marooned Robinsons (save for Penny, who has mysteriously vanished from the entire episode...without it being noticed by her Mom or Dad). 

Soon, Robby confronts the B-9 and tells him that the Robinsons no longer need their original robot and that "in comparison" to himself, the B-9 is "very ignorant."

Alone and abandoned, B-9 skulks away into the rocks -- having lost his family -- and soon Robby's true motives emerge. He is actually the dedicated servant to an alien scientist (a kind of dog-alien that very much resembles the Anticans from the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Lonely Among Us" that was produced and broadcast twenty-one years later...). 

The Robotoid's mission is not to serve the Robinsons, but rather to disarm them, render them "harmless" and deliver them as experimental subjects to the aliens. 

"You are weak and vulnerable creatures," Robby tells the Robinsons, "but there are others who have need of you..."

In the end, it's a battle-to-the-death between a nearly-invincible Robby, the most famous robot in film history, and a vastly-under-powered Bubble-Headed Booby, the most famous mechanical man of television...

I love the way the first season of the series is shot, and this episode is a prime example. In "The War of the Robots," for instance, a fluid camera glides in menacingly towards Robby the Robot at least twice, pushing portentously towards the inscrutable juggernaut. 

A less efficient production might have used a zoom instead of taking the time and energy to move the camera, but you can tell that there was no expense spared in early Lost in Space, and generally, the series is really well-filmed. 

There's even a sense of visual ingenuity (and wit...) in the episode's final battle between clunky metal men. They flap and lumber their way through a cloud of opaque smoke, laboring to find the best kill position.

In some ways, “War of the Robots” is also like the dam breaking in Lost in Space, at least in terms of the depiction of the Robot.  He has been mainly the tool, so far, of Doctor Smith, and occasional helper of the family...but he hasn’t been sentimentalized.  

The sentimentalization of the machine begins in earnest at this juncture.  The Robot is seen as lonely, emotionally wounded, and looked over by his beloved family.  Will and Maureen, similarly, begin to express their feelings for the dutiful robot in this emotional fashion.

The "War of the Robots" narrative is one we can all identify with. The Robot feels squeezed out by his new "sibling," Robby, and becomes jealous that, well, there's somebody newer and more exciting in the room. 

The Robot begins striking out at those who love him (refusing to help Will...), becomes petulant and even self-loathing (describing the fact that he has been denied or "cheated" out of human characteristics evidenced by the Robotoid.)

Let's face it: haven't we all felt displaced like that from time to time? By a brother or a sister? By your best friend's 'new' buddy? 

It's strange that a story so plainly concerning sibling rivalry involves an ostensibly "emotion-less" robot, but again, that's the great thing about science fiction on television: it can dramatize stories in a way a regular drama can't.

"The War of the Robots" is a fable or lesson about jealousy, and every other dramatic consideration  about the episode is largely secondary.

In this way, the series conforms to its overarching idea: that of a pioneer family determining how to thrive on the frontier, with all sorts of challenges around.  

Only in this case, it is clear that the robot is part of the family, and not just an instrument or device. 

When we enter the space age, Lost in Space tells us, even our technology will be part of "us."

Lost in Space 60th Anniversary: "My Friend, My Nobody"

In “My Friend, Mr. Nobody,” Penny (Angela Cartwright) unexpectedly makes an alien friend in a cave. This cave manifests, at first, as just as a voice, but soon is able to demonstrate strange and fearsome powers.

Penny attempts to convince her family that Mr. Nobody is real, and a million-year-old life-form, as he claims but she is ignored and disbelieved by the other Robinsons, who are busy improving their settlement.

When Dr. Smith (Jonathan Harris) learns that there are diamonds in Mr. Nobody’s cave, he becomes determined to drill there, with no worry whatsoever about the well-being of Penny’s friend…

“My Friend, Mr. Nobody” is a magical episode of Lost in Space (1965 – 1968), a story of both great empathy (for Penny) and remarkable imagination.  

"My Friend, Mr. Nobody" takes the familiar “imaginary friend” trope (later featured, less imaginatively, on Star Trek: The Next Generation as “Imaginary Friend,”) and transforms it into a story about loneliness, friendship, and purpose.

In particular, the story’s main character, Penny, is at loose ends.  Her mother is busy working at the Jupiter 2. Her father and Don are busy with the laser drill.  Even Will is too busy to play with her.  

So Penny must spend her days alone, without attention, feeling unloved and unimportant. But before long, she encounters this “friend” in the dark cave, a friend who values her, and talks to her about things that matter.  They speak of “death” and what it means (‘when someone can’t speak anymore, or move anymore”) and become fast-friends, dedicated to each other’s well-being.  Penny realizes, through her conversations with Mr. Nobody that her thoughts and words matter; that they make a difference.

There are moments in “My Friend, Mr. Nobody” that ring very true in terms of earthbound childhood too. For example, Penny feels hurt when the person she trusts the most, her mother, fails to believe her story of Mr. Nobody.  

Of all the people who should believe her, it is Mom. When Penny catches her mother humoring her, treating her as just a "kid," the moment represents an unwelcome entrance into the grown up world of awareness.  

Dr. Smith -- who says “oh, the pain; the pain” for the first time in this episode -- is pretty despicable here too.  He attempts to trick Penny by pretending to be the voice of Mr. Nobody. And then, later, his attempt to acquire diamonds means, essentially, the murder of this imaginary friend.  Penny's lesson here is that many adults treat friendship as secondary, and wealth as primary.  Penny's friendship means nothing to Dr. Smith if he has a chance to get rich.

The episode ends, finally, with Mr. Nobody facing off against the robot, evolving, heading off to the stars to his next stage of existence, but no doubt carrying his friendship with Penny with him to that destination.  

It’s a nice note to go out on, and one that suggests that a child's friendship is not an unimportant, or insignificant thing.  Everyone treats Penny like she is a dumb kid, but she proves a crucial part of Mr. Nobody’s maturation process.  She alone helps him grow.  She alone can understand that he is not a monster.  The adults, in this case, are dead wrong.  

“My Friend, Mr. Nobody” is one of the very best episodes of Lost in Space episodes because it serves well an under-utilized character, Penny, and does a remarkably thoughtful job of imagining what her life must be like, always playing second fiddle to Will.

But more than that, the episode finds that there is inherent value in the friendship of a child. Spending time with your children is not a waste of time, not a lark.  It is something, instead, that matters.  This episode plays like a space age fairy tale, replete with darkness and fear, but also with a happy ending that validates a child’s sense of wonder, and his or her sense of self, as well.

Lost in Space 60th Anniversary: "The Derelict"

In “The Derelict,” the second-ever episode of Lost in Space (1965 – 1968), Maureen Robinson (June Lockhart) dons a space suit and attempts to save John (Guy Williams), who is outside the Jupiter 2 on a delicate repair mission gone awry.  

As the Robinson parents attempt to return inside the vessel, the airlock jams and a flaming comet nears.  If they can’t make it inside the ship’s protective hull, they will burn up.

A last minute rescue brings the Robinson elders inside, and sometime later, John reflects in his journal that the Jupiter 2 must have gone through hyperspace at some point, which accounts for its extreme distance from Earth, and the crew’s inability to pinpoint the ship’s location. Robinson also declares that the man responsible for the ship’s plight, Dr. Smith (Jonathan Harris) will henceforth be treated as a “stowaway.”

Even as Alpha Control declares “America’s first space family” lost, Will (Bill Mumy) picks up a signal somewhere nearby the Jupiter 2. Smith suspects his own people are attempting to rescue him, but the truth is far mysterious.  The source of the signal is a derelict of alien origin.

The Jupiter 2 is pulled inside the derelict, and John uses the opportunity to search the vessel for a star map that could pinpoint their location. Meanwhile, Will discovers the denizens of the ship...and Dr. Smith promptly shoots one of the aliens.

“The Derelict” has always been one of my favorite episodes of Lost in Space because I enjoy both the idea of humans encountering a mysterious alien space vessel, and because the aliens -- weird, electrically-charged bubble-things -- are not humanoid in design

Still, on this re-watch I couldn’t help but notice how long it takes to get to the central action. The first portion of the episode, with Maureen and John still on an ill-fated spacewalk takes forever to resolve. 

And everything is slowed down exponentially by the creative choice to act as if outer space is water, and all physical movements are occurring, essentially, in molasses. The end of “The Reluctant Stowaway” and the beginning of “The Derelict” are harmed to a large extent by the fact that the story -- and the characters themselves -- move so slowly.  This is one area where the fifty year old series has not held up well.

Once the Jupiter 2 enters the alien ship (which folds open in glorious, mid-1960s, pre-CGI miniature work…), the action picks up.  The Robinsons are confronted with an unknown species, a spaceship interior littered in cob-webs, and then truly alien appearing beings.  Leave it to Dr. Smith to turn an opportunity for friendship into a disastrous first contact experience.

Still, this “chance encounter” with the aliens grants the Robinsons the information they need. And they set off towards a nearby planet, where they hope to settle.  The setting of the alien ship provides some great production design.  I like the weird computer alcove, where Major West and John Robinson seek to extract information. And the alien first emerges (near Will) behind an area that looks very much like brain matter.

After so much 1960s “future” tech in the first episode, the interior of the derelict -- dark and frightening -- makes a great visual diversion.

Indeed, I like the mysterious aspects of “The Derelict,” and the idea that the Robinsons are now un-tethered from Earth not only in terms of location and communication, but in terms of chronology. They reckon here with a spaceship that could be ages old, and certainly is the product of a culture far different from their own.

The special effects in this episode area all extraordinary, from the comet that approaches the Jupiter 2 to the composites from the ship’s control room that show the approach to the derelict.  The landing sequence of the Jupiter 2, in dark, chaotic terrain, also holds up remarkably well. Perhaps aided by the moody black-and-white photography, these moments don’t show their age at all.

The alien beings -- when they are first seen -- are similarly impressive. Non-humanoid in design, they appear to be genuinely from a different world and different form of evolution.  They only time they don’t impress is during the final chase, when they seem to scoot across the ship’s floor as if on wheels (like Daleks).

In terms of characterization, and in particular, Dr. Smith, John Robinson is right to treat him as a “stowaway” but in the very next episode, “Islands in the Sky,” he still has free run of the ship.  There’s an old joke (originated by David Gerrold?) about Dr. Smith being given a tour of the nearest airlock. There are times in these early episodes, with lives grievously threatened, that Smith is treated too well by the others.  He is constantly endangering the crew, and represents not just a current threat, but a future threat as well.  If I were Robinson, I might not have tossed him out the airlock, but rather marooned him on that alien derelict and let him take his chances with the crew that he attacked.  

That’s his problem…let him clean it up.

Speaking of airlocks, we’re only in episode two of Lost in Space at this juncture, and already the Jupiter 2 is malfunctioning a lot.  A sensor stops working. The airlock jams. And so on.  This thing needed a shakedown cruise!

60 Years Ago: Lost in Space: "The Reluctant Stowaway"

"This is the beginning. This is the day. You are watching the unfolding of one of history's great adventures. Man's colonization of space. Beyond the stars..."

With these portentous words, so begins Irwin Allen's 1965-1968 science fiction TV series, Lost in Space, sixty years old in 2025

Visually, the episode "The Reluctant Stowaway" commences with a majestic camera sweep of an impressive LBJ-era mission control center populated by numerous technicians. 

Well, it's not LBJ era, technically, but rather an LBJ era imagining of how the future would likely look. Thus computers are gigantic, wall-sized machines with beeping gauges, reel-to-reel tapes, and blinking lights…lots of blinking lights.

The day is October 16, 1997, the viewer is informed, as Alpha Control is dominated by the hustle and bustle of expectant activity. A narrator with booming voice next informs us that the space program is in preparations to send a family into space, to a habitable planet in orbit of Alpha Centauri. 

The Robinsons have been selected for this particular mission out of 2.2 million prospective families. And their vessel, the "super spaceship" Jupiter 2 is seventy-five minutes from launch.

The Robinsons, the audience also learns, best fulfill three necessary criteria for explorers in the space age: scientific achievement, pioneer resourcefulness and emotional balance.

These qualities will hold the family in good stead for their 5.5 year journey (though most of the trip will be spent in suspended animation). 

Still, the future of the human race rests on this mission. With the "explosive increase of population" on Earth, the colonization of the stars is nothing less than an imperative. The President of the United States appears in the episode, shortly before launch, and delivers an address. He wonders about the future of Earth and humanity.  

Is this the beginning of a "dawn of plenty" or a planetary "disaster?"

The debut episode of Lost in Space also provides a splendid, highly-detailed tour of the unique craft carrying the Robinson family to the furthest reaches of space. 

The Jupiter 2 is not only a home away from home, we are told, but "the culmination of 40 years of intensive research" (at a cost of 30 billion dollars...); one which makes possible "man's thrust into deep space." 

This two-story craft accommodates state rooms for the crew, a galley, a control deck (with freezing tubes), a med bay and the powerful atomic motors.

One noteworthy piece of equipment on board the craft (to help the Robinsons conduct their mission) is an environmental control robot. The machine is designed for physical examinations of an alien world.

But unfortunately for the Robinsons, as "The Reluctant Stowaway" continues, we learn that someone else is (illicitly...) aboard the Jupiter 2, a foreign saboteur with the rank of colonel, a fella by the name of Dr. Zachary Smith (Jonathan Harris).

He has programmed the robot to -- at precisely "launch plus eight hours" -- destroy the vessel's inertial guidance system, radio transmitter and cabin pressure control system. 

What Smith doesn't realize is that he's the stowaway of the episode's title. He is trapped on board the ship during launch, and thus he will share in the Robinson family's fate.

Written by S. Bar David and directed by Tony Leader, "The Reluctant Stowaway" introduces television audiences to the main characters and central concepts of this space drama. As one might guess from the title of the series, the Jupiter 2's maiden flight will experience all sorts of difficulties and disasters, with the Robinsons and Smith hopelessly...lost in the space.

The dramatis personae on Lost in Space also include Dr. John Robinson (Guy Williams), the patriarch of the clan. He's a rock solid man's man, a geologist and space scientist perfectly suited to the colonization of space. 

His wife is Maureen Robinson (June Lockhart), a loving matriarchal-type who admits to some fear and misgivings about the mission. "I should say something light and clever," she notes as the journey begins, "I just can't." 

Then there's Judy (Marta Kristen), the eldest Robinson daughter and a brilliant scientist in her own right. 

Adolescent and mischievous Penny (Angela Cartwright) and the little genius, Will Robinson (Billy Mumy) round out the family. They are average American kids (of the space age...) and one charming scene in the episode reveals them playing in a weightless environment, care-free and innocent.

Piloting the ship is Mark Goddard's stolid Major Don West, who -- quite rightly, given his options -- sets his eyes on Judy. He notes in the episode that if the Robinsons wake up and find him driving the boat, they'll know they are in trouble.  That's actually precisely what occurs.

Shot in crisp shades of beautiful black-and-white, "The Reluctant Stowaway" chronicles the launch of Jupiter 2 and its subsequent "stranding" in deep space. 

With Smith aboard, there are 200 extra lbs. to account for, and the ship strays from its trajectory even before the robot breaks bad and fulfill its sabotaged programming. 

In the course of the hour, a number of space hazards emerge, including an asteroid belt which pelts the Jupiter 2's hull. The robot goes on his destructive jag too, thus causing the ship to go further off course ("As of this moment, the spacecraft has left the limits of the galaxy," one character breathlessly intones). 

The episode ends on a cliffhanger note as John heads outside the ship for EVA repairs. His tether breaks...and he spins into the void, out-of-control. Maureen dons a space suit to rescue him, but time is running out.  

This is the only scene in the episode that seems to have aged in fifty years. It takes too long, moves too slowly, and the effects don't hold up. The remainder of the pilot episode is superlative, both well-written and exciting.

The sci-fi TV works of Irwin Allen concern an interesting conflict or tension. In series such as Lost in Space, Time Tunnel (1966), and Land of the Giants (1968 -1970), man is on the cusp of possessing great technology, but it fails him, or strands him in environments that are hostile.  

It is then up to resourceful man (and woman!) to eke out survival, rescue or escape. 

So it would be fair to state that Allen's works of art depict technological advances as tricky things. They make great journeys through time and space possible, but in the end, man must still make his own way.

Accordingly, Lost in Space -- at least in the first season -- is a sincere, straight-faced action-adventure, a transposition of the American Western genre; about the newest frontier and the pioneers required to tame deep space. It is, literally (as its source material suggests...), Space Family Robinson.

What I found most fascinating while watching "The Reluctant Stowaway" was the impressive (and apparently obsessive) attention to detail. The production values are superb.

Everything -- from the sets to the costumes and props to the miniatures -- appears absolutely beautiful and carefully devised and constructed.  The Jupiter 2 is a gorgeous set, for instance. And ultimately, the show is quite convincing from a mid-1960s perspective.

Have we outgrown it? Perhaps the melodramatic, humorless tone more than the technology, I'd say.  I still love the "retro" futuristic look of the Jupiter 2. I could easily imagine spending a long space voyage aboard that gorgeous ship.

The episode ends with that cliffhanger and the legend "To be continued next week. Same time, same channel." I found myself immediately wanting to find out what happened next. Truly, the only thing that marks this first incarnation of Lost in Space as silly or outdated is the opening credits sequence, which depicts a cartoon spaceship tugging in its wake a line of tethered, space suited astronauts. It seems frivolous for a series about a mankind's "greatest" adventure.

Another fact: Dr. Zachary Smith is one sinister cat at this juncture. He's not the buffoon he would become in later seasons. Instead, he is ultra-menacing and dark. He wants to kill the Robinsons. And he doesn't take that job lightly. He's not a bumbler...he's a killer. Not exactly a playful sort.  He uses every trick in the book in this episode to get Robinson to turn the boat around, back towards Earth. At one point, he even attempts to quarantine Will, claiming that the boy has a virus that will kill him if he returns to suspended animation.

Also, there's a legend that Smith was a minor character at first, and only later took center stage.  It's pretty clear in "Reluctant Stowaway" that Smith is the main character. He is the first primary character introduced, and we spend more time with him individually than with any other character. He is the prime motivator here, for certain.

As noted above, Lost in Space is a sci-fi series about a pioneer family pulling together in hard times, and it's good, adventurous fun. It may not be deep or kinky or adult or modern, but it is beautifully-shot and it conveys well the dangers and thrills of space travel in a way I haven't seen on any show in some time. There's a fairy tale aspect to many entries of the series, especially in the well-done first season.