Saturday, April 20, 2013

Monument(al) Destruction 9: Earth vs. The Flying Saucers (1956)

Cult-TV Gallery: Butch Patrick

As Eddie Munster on The Munsters (1964 - 1966)

As Mark on Lidsville (1971)

As Jack on Shazam! "The Athlete" (1974)

Saturday Morning Cult-TV Blogging: Shazam: "The Athlete" (October 12, 1974)

In this first season episode of the 1970s Filmation live-action series, Shazam, Mentor (Les Tremayne) and Billy (Michael Gray) see a fishing trip derailed when two irresponsible high school athletes intentionally spook a horse and its rider, Kellie.

It turns out that these athletes are attempting to keep Kellie Owens (Stephanie Steele) off the all-boys track team…and are willing to do so by intimidation or even physical threat.  Later, the two boys frame Kellie for cheating on a school exam, an infraction which could also jeopardize a college scholarship.

Mentor and Billy intervene, and one of the athletes reveals the truth…just in time. Kellie goes on to win the scholarship, and a slot on the track-and-field running team.

This is another relatively undistinguished, small-potatoes episode of Shazam, made memorable almost exclusively by the fact that the “bad” athlete, Jack, is played by a teenage Butch Patrick, the cult-TV star of The Munsters (1964 – 1966) and Lidsville (1971).

Otherwise, “The Athlete” bucks the series format by featuring a first-act appearance of Captain Marvel (Jackson Bostwick), one which precedes the weekly tete-a-tete with Elders.  In this case, Captain Marvel saves Kellie and her runaway horse.  He also appears later in the episode, when Kellie nearly rides her motorcycle into a tractor on a dirt road.

As is par for the course, there’s an After-School Special vibe to the proceedings, although this week the Elders offer a nugget of wisdom that is indeed true, and describes the great sweep of Civil Rights in America:

“Even when change is right and just, there are those who through their attitudes resist it.”

Truer words may never have been spoken…at least on a Saturday morning superhero program.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Cult Movie Review: Destination Moon (1950)

Destination Moon (1950) is a space-age adventure film from another age, and as such, a kind of unique film.  The sixty-three year old sci-fi movie involves the (fictional) first rocket launch to the moon, and the brave astronauts who undertake that dangerous journey. 

Destination Moon’s special effects and settings still look remarkably impressive today, even if some dramatic scenes fall flat.  Indeed, the film’s biggest drawback involves the cookie-cutter main characters.  There’s a scientist, an industrialist, a military general, and a comic-relief “goombah”…and only one of them appears to be under fifty-years old.

Still, even this decided lack of “real” or dynamic human characters doesn’t undercut Destination Moon’s stirring and tense finale, which sees the astronauts desperate to lighten their rocket’s load in order to achieve escape velocity from the Moon, and return home safely.  This climax generates the intense human interest that much of the film otherwise lacks.

In terms of today’s science fiction cinema, two scenes in Destination Moon seem to have inspired at least a few notable “blockbuster” moments.  One involves Woody Woodpecker (!), and an audience-friendly, animated “educational film” of rocket launches, and the other involves a dangerous Extra-Vehicular Maneuver on a rocket’s metal hull during space flight.

Although Destination Moon’s characters never seem particularly human or real (and there is nary a woman or person of color in sight…), this George Pal production nonetheless continues to impress on the basis of the aforementioned scenes, and the occasional spikes of style it deploys to make the tale both more dramatic and suspenseful.

After a recent government-sponsored rocket launch fails under extremely suspicious circumstances, private industrialist Jim Barnes (John Archer) is convinced by General Thayer (Tom Powers) and scientist Cargraves (Warner Anderson) to spearhead a moon launch.  He organizes a cadre of private industrialists for that purpose, and builds a rocket called Luna.

Rather than wait for government approval of the ship’s atomic engine, however, the men quickly find a replacement radio operator, Joe Sweeney (Dick Wesson), and launch Luna early.

En route to the moon, a problem with the radar antenna necessitates a hazardous spacewalk. 

Following a safe set-down on the lunar surface, the crew learns that it expended too much fuel during the landing.  If the men ever hope to see terra firma again, they must shed over one thousand pounds of equipment…and possibly personnel.

 Time is not always kind to movies, especially science fiction movies.  More than anything else, films are a product of their historical context, and so it is always tempting to gaze at an old film and note how very, very wrong it gets the facts, those “what if” prophecies about the shape-of-things no-longer-to-come.

By today’s standards Destination Moon (1951) appears a bit antiquated in this very fashion.  Produced by the legendary George Pal and directed by Irving Pichel, this movie imagines the first moon landing, circa 1950, and frankly, it gets much right in terms of the science involved in a rocket launch and the nature of the moon.  The film should be roundly commended for such a close attention to detail. 

The depiction of the moon’s surface, for one thing, is not far off. 

For another, the film attempts to accurately depict zero-gravity, and the lighter gravity on the lunar surface, and again, by-and-large succeeds on such fronts. The down-side is that the screenplay’s dialogue laboriously introduces and explains such concepts, and audiences today don’t need the lecture.  This would not have been true, however, in 1950.

Accordingly, Destination Moon is a film that -- unlike its contemporary Rocketship XM (1950) -- isn’t really about space adventuring at all, but rather the nuts and bolts mechanics underpinning space travel. 

Whether or not this quality makes the film less interesting or more interesting is a matter for individual taste.  That fact established, the characters headlining Destination Moon don’t seem to have been selected for their potential “interest” as human beings, but rather for their (necessary) roles in making the fictional space journey possible.

And unfortunately, for all the details Destination Moon gets right in terms of science, it gets a lot wrong in terms of the eventual politics of American space travel.

In particular, the film boasts an obsessive -- almost rabid -- dislike of the U.S. government, and imagines that the wealthy, independent scions of American private industry will band together to conquer the moon…all for the common good of the nation. 

In fact, Barns -- the enthusiastic industrialist spearheading this mission to the Moon -- launches his rocket early so as to avoid the U.S. government’s excessive “red tape,” as well as the government’s concerns over the use of an untested atomic engine near a populated area. 

Of course, this is a strange viewpoint about the situation.  The same industrialist’s last rocket exploded on take-off, scattering debris in its wake.  Isn’t it the government’s job to ensure the safety of the citizenry?  Why, I wonder, is it so unacceptable that the government would demand safety, especially for an atomic rocket launch in the American heartland?  If there are Russian saboteurs around, as the film hints, wouldn't it be wise to take precautions?

So Destination Moon suspiciously views the U.S. government as an insidious impediment, and nothing else, and that viewpoint is short-sighted.

And in the final analysis, we all now know that this viewpoint does not reflect reality.  It was NASA -- the government -- which spearheaded man’s first landing on the moon in 1969, not private industry. This inconvenient fact of history makes the film’s dialogue about the virtues of private enterprise seem almost like Bernays-style propaganda in retrospect.   

For instance, the script, by Robert Heinlein, James O’Hanlon and Rip Von Ronkel, boasts of big business --‘that’s where the talent and energy is!’ even though we all now know -- or should remember -- that many of our society’s impressive technological strides of the last century, whether it be the moon landing or the development of the Internet, were sponsored by dedicated individuals working in government. 

That doesn’t diminish those accomplishments one iota.  Why can’t we love government and private enterprise, and see that both sectors perform a necessary function in a civil, functioning, technological society?

Also rather unbelievable is the film’s idea that a rocket bound for the moon would not require dedicated, trained crew, and that an industrialist could lead the mission personally…with no prior space training. 

The point I should carefully make here is that it doesn’t matter that the subject matter of the film -- a private enterprise journey to the moon -- was proven wrong by history.  Things like that happen all the time in science fiction cinema.  It’s that the film, in describing the moon venture is so wantonly dismissive and negative about the role of government in such efforts.  An agenda is clearly at work here, and one that didn’t stand its first encounter with reality.

Setting aside the aggressively, viscerally pro-private industry agenda of Destination Moon it should be noted that two scenes in the film point the way to future blockbusters of the genre.

In one early scene, for instance, the industrialist shows a cartoon of the proposed mission, starring Woody Woodpecker.  Woody adds humor to the informative cartoon about rocketry, and makes the lecture go down easy.  And if you’ve ever seen Jurassic Park (1993), you’ll recognize that the animated Mr. DNA performs precisely the same function in John Hammond’s video about the genetic engineering of dinosaurs.  There are many decades separating these two films (over four, to be precise) and yet in both circumstances humor and animation are used as “the medicine” to make the science not just comprehensible, but tolerable.

Secondly, a scene set in space here involves three astronauts needing to repair a radar device on the exterior of their rocket.  Destination Moon depicts the three astronauts in space suits, leaving their spacecraft wearing magnetic boots.  By our reckoning as third-person observers, they stand upside down on the rocket hull. After adopting this perspective in order to reveal the hazards of such a spacewalk, the film flips to a more conventional “right-side up” perspective. 

This is precisely the visual set-up for a similar extra-vehicular scene in Star Trek: First Contact (1996).  In that scene, three astronauts -- Picard, Worf and Hawk -- must prevent a Borg modification of the Enterprise’s deflector dish.  The scene begins with disorientation, with the Starfleet officers “upside down” by the audience’s perspective, and then rights that perspective quickly, so we are not hopelessly dizzy/sick/nauseated.  The staging is so similar in First Contact that the scene must be homage or tribute to Destination Moon.

In terms of the film’s other visuals, Destination Moon boasts moments of extreme tension and suspense.  On launch, for instance, the film utilizes a series of progressive jump cuts -- growing ever closer – of a countdown clock.  This technique augments audience involvement, and not one expensive optical effect is required.  

A countdown also informs the film’s exciting finale.  The crew has scant minutes to shed first 1000 lbs., and then 110 lbs., if it hopes to achieve escape velocity.  What follows is a mad dash to toss out the air lock everything thing not bolted down, from seat mattresses to radios, to space suits.  Once more anxiety and uncertainty is amped up to a considerable level, especially as the crew begins to reckon with the possibility of leaving one of their own behind.

Destination Moon arrives at its arousing conclusion with the inspiring on-screen words “The End of the Beginning,” and that’s also a good way to parse the film’s place in film history.  It’s important that Destination Moon was made at all, and that it takes such care to paint a mostly-accurate vision of a trip to the moon.  If the Pal film had only tread less aggressively into philosophizing about the role of private enterprise in an eventual moon landing, its reputation for “accuracy” might be even stronger, to this very day. 

Movie Trailer: Destination Moon (1950)

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Pop Art: Star Trek Food

Collectible of the Week: Robot Commando (Ideal; 1961)

Ideal's Robot Commando -- "The amazing mechanical man" -- arrived in toy stores across America well before my time, at the beginning of the sixties.  

Although I've never owned one of these toys, that fact hasn't changed my admiration for this retro-futuristic Marvin Glass creation.  Joel and I often surf Youtube together looking for old toy robot commercials, and we came across this fellow a few years back (as well as Ideal's the Great Garloo).

Standing an impressive 19" tall, Robot Commando "responds to commands" by pressing a control lever and speaking into a microphone.  He can also fire rockets out of his eyes (black marbles) and make beeping sounds.

Cast in blue and red plastic Robot Commando moves about on rubber wheels and operates on three D batteries.  Once -- on November 5, 1961 -- the big metal guy even made the cover of the Chicago Tribune Magazine with his creator.  Below that image, you'll find the great Robot Commando commercial.

Model Kit of the Week: Star Trek: The Motion Picture/AMT Edition

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Late Night Blogging: The 3-D Movies of the Early 1980s

The Films of 1983: Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone

At the height of the early-1980s 3-D craze and not even a full week before the highly-anticipated release of George Lucas's Return of the Jedi (1983), American movie-going audiences were introduced to Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone, a space-age pastiche of Old West cliches, post-apocalyptic designs, and desert planet tropes. 

The Lamont Johnson-directed film stars Peter Strauss as a space-going cowboy and gun-for-hire, Wolff, and a very young, very scruffy Molly Ringwald as Niki, a "scav" (scavenger) girl from distant "Terra 11."  These unlikely partners team up to rescue three female refugees from a damaged luxury liner who have fallen into the (prosthetic) grip of a planetary despot, "Overdog" (Michael Ironside).

I still remember seeing this low-budget film with my parents (at the tender of age 13, I guess...) and thinking that Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone was pretty godawful.  It didn't fit any of my pre-conceived expectations for a space adventure at that time (which today, I realize, is not necessarily a bad thing.)

And yet, simultaneously -- even as a kid -- I was highly intrigued by the film and the unusual "garbage"-punk-styled world it presented with such dedication and flamboyance.  To my young mind, the movie also somehow felt dangerous and decorum-shattering in a way that bigger budget films clearly did not.  There was a overwhelming and unsettling feeling that the Spacehunter story-line might head in some...unsavory directions.

When I screened the film again last night -- without 3-D, obviously -- I enjoyed Spacehunter much more than I had in the past, and I was able to process some of the reasons for my initial reaction all those years (and decades...) ago.   The strengths of the film involve two thematic ingredients, in particular. 

First, Spacehunter is actually a kind of forward-thinking, early cyberpunk effort in shape and scope; and secondly, the film gets a lot of mileage out of its post-modern references to the history of science fiction; particularly what might be affectionately termed "pulp" fiction.

"They've come a long way since Monday Night Football..."

Unlikely partners: Niki (Ringwald) and Wolff (Strauss).
Spacehunter's narrative commences when Wolff and his sexy android companion, Chalmers (Andrea Marcovicci) receive a "Bullet-text" message that three women have survived a disaster in space, and crash-landed on a quarantine planet, Terra 11.  In hopes of earning the "mega-credit" reward for their rescue, Wolff sets course for the planet and lands on the arid, inhospitable world.

Unfortunately, Chalmers is killed -- or rendered inoperable -- during Wolff's first engagement on the planet.  He attempts to intercept the three marooned passengers on a kind of sail train, but forces of the local dictator, Overdog, intercept them.

In his all-terrain vehicle, "The Scrambler," Wolff navigates "the Zone" in search of his quarry.  Unexpectedly, he is assisted by Niki, a young girl with a tough exterior who longs for friendship.  An able "tracker," Nicki leads Wolff through deadly adventures with the Zone's residents, including obese bat creatures (!) and sexy Amazon women  seeking robust breeding stock.

Also on the planet is a soldier-of-fortune named Washington (Ernie Hudson), who once served in the military with Wolff and is also hoping to collect the reward for the safe return of the three women.  Together, Wolff, Washington and Niki infiltrate Overdog's headquarters, where he is conducting gladiatorial games, and attempt to complete the mission.

"Why can't anything be simple, anymore?" Spacehunter as Cyberpunk

On Terra 11, the forces of Overdog lay siege to a sail barge/train.
First, I believe it's fair to state that Spacehunter is, at least marginally, an early "cyberpunk"-styled film.  If you consider the essential  requirements of that sub-genre, it usually features loners functioning in a near future, dystopian setting. 

Here, the screenplay actually describes Wolff as a loner, the setting is the mid-22nd (maybe a hundred years from now), and the dystopian setting is not a failed state; but a failed planet.  Terra 11 has fallen into chaos and become a "Quarantine Restricted Planet" after the "PSI Plague" hit in 2021.  

Additionally, Spacehunter deals with such cyber punk issues as artificial intelligence: Chalmers is an android, an engineer and apparently a sex-bot too.  Also, in keeping with the cyber-punk format, prosthetics (artificial enhancements of missing human limbs) play a role in the story.  Overdog, like Darth Vader before him, seems more machine than man.

According to a good, general definition at Wikipedia, cyberpunk fiction and film are often-described as "high tech" and "low life" and Spacehunter doesn't precisely fit that bill.  It's got the low-life part down, all right, and outside of Terra 11 there are some examples of high tech.  But on the broken world of Terra 11, there is no real "high" anything (except as provided by the "mood-enhancers" of the plague-ridden villain called "The Chemist.")

Although the Internet and computer world do not play a meaningful role in Spacehunter either, there is at least, through bullet-text updates, the suggestion of an inter-connected universe.  And how that advanced technology is utilized certainly suggests the low-life.  For instance, a message at the beginning of the film reports to Wolff that he is wanted in association with failing to pay over a hundred parking tickets; and that he ran out paying on his ex-wife's alimony.  This is exactly the seedy vibe of some cyberpunk efforts or what author and scholar Paul Meehan might term "tech noir."

From the film's very first shot -- a view of rusted metal plate lined with rivets, subsequently smashed by the film's title card -- Spacehunter seems legitimately about breaking things open in the genre.  Blasting through the past, and creating -- in the best and most vivid terms it can -- a broken down future world.   To me, that seems very cyber punk-ish.

"I Love Your Planet:" Spacehunter as Pulp Science Fiction

Wanted: Breeding Stock.  Meet the Amazon Women of Terra 11...
Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone features android sex-bots, cannibalistic mutants, life-force draining machines, Amazon women in search of breeding stock and other touches that, as long time sci-fi fans, we should all recognize as being of distinctly "pulp" origins.

That means, essentially, the film appeals not just to the imagination and futurist in us...but to our glands.  This is the element I believe I picked up on as a teenager; the sense of lurid sexuality on display during two interludes in the film.

In the first instance, the evil Overdog instructs a guard to "undress" one of his captive women "...slowly."  The guard does so -- before our eyes -- and it's weird and disturbing.  Overdog is more machine than man, as I noted above, so what physical "interest" is he satisfying here?  Just looking?  Or does he have prostheses the audience hasn't seen?  Regardless, the implication is of a most abnormal and perverse appetite.

In the second instance, Wolff and Niki drive the Scrambler into a high-techcavern populated by scantily-clad, voluptuous Amazon women.  These sexy women surface from beneath the water, ogle Peter Strauss and decide that he is good "breeding stock."   In the film's funniest moment, one of the Amazon women wagers he would "not survive" the breeding process.

"I'll take that bet," Wolff replies, without missing a beat...

Yeah, it's sleazy and sexist, I suppose, but these scenes arise from a real and common tradition in the pulp magazinesof the 1950s; a tradition which frequently sees scantily clad damsels in distress held unconscious in the arms of a monster or an alien, to be used -- ostensibly -- for some unspeakable, inhuman pleasure

I can't argue that's nice or high-brow, or even inoffensive, but Spacehunter undeniably pay tribute to long-standing pulp tradition at the same time it looks forward to the next iteration of the genre: cyberpunk.

 "Us loners got to stick together."

Overdog (Michael Ironside)
A little sleaze goes a long way when a film features a sturdy and charming sense of humor, and that's the case with Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone. 

I admire how the film creates its own "future language" and how the screenplay allows the barely-educated Niki to mangle the King's English more than any dramatic character since Mrs. Malaprop. 

I also got a kick out of Overdog's smiling admission that he is a liar, after promising to let Nicki go should she escape the gladiatorial maze.  It's a funny moment.

The dialogue in Spacehunter is quippy, creative and kind of funny, and the visualizations of the dystopic world prove stunning at points.   These images feature some nice, unexpected details too.  For instance, when Wolff boards the sail barge during a battle, down on the deck we see, briefly, cages filled with livestock.  The cages are uncommented on, but provide evidence that a production designer was imagining a larger world; one where food (and the transport of food) had to be accounted for.

So yes, this movie is low-budget, low-brow, lurid, action-packed and much more fun than I gave it credit for being some twenty-seven years ago.  There's a strong aura of a danger throughout, a great villain, and plenty of guffaws (not to mention a closing act cameo by television's favorite rock formation, Vasquez Rocks). 

For all its brazen political incorrectness, Spacehunter boasts "a very enviable life force," to quote Overdog.   I don't know that I can defend the film on many high-brow intellectual terms, but I also don't know that I need to.

The movie scavenges the new genre of cybyerpunk and the old traditions of the pulp sci-fi magazine in a manner that, on retrospect, seems pleasing and diverting.  In the final analysis, Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone is assembled -- like Overdog himself -- out of a lot of interesting spare parts. .

Movie Trailer: Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone (1983)

Theme Song of the Week: Total Recall 2070 AD

Monday, April 15, 2013

Ask JKM a Question: Series that Lasted Too Long, or Wrote Themselves into Corners?

A regular reader writes:

“We all know of TV series whose life was cut too short by low ratings. The Internet is littered with fan campaigns to bring back shows, some successful and some not.

But what about the opposite? Any shows you felt actually went on too long? Shows that dragged out a quest past the point of tedium? Or shows that wrote themselves into corners?

I love this question!  It’s a good one, and a nice inversion of the idea of TV programming that gets cut down in its prime.

My answer probably won’t be popular, but I feel that the first several Berman Era Star Trek shows -- The Next Generation (1987 – 1994), Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (1993 – 1999) and Star Trek Voyager (1995 – 2001) -- all peaked in their sixth seasons, and the seventh (and final) seasons tended to be big disappointments, featuring many episodes that just didn’t succeed artistically. 

I am a big Star Trek fan, obviously, and feel especially fond towards Deep Space Nine, but I can’t say that I ever fully got on board with the notion of Captain Sisko’s mother Sarah having been possessed by the Wormhole aliens/prophets, thus transforming the good Captain into a quasi-alien character with mystical qualities.  The final episodes of the series -- with wraiths and other “magical” forces battling it out felt -- like a betrayal to me of Star Trek’s scientific, secular grounding.

But in particular I feel that this plot development with Sisko was poorly conceived and took away from the “human” adventure.  I similarly disliked the idea (presented earlier than the seventh season if memory serves…), of Dr. Bashir being a genius genetic augment

For some reason, the people behind these Trek series felt it necessary to have every character boast some “special” power or capability by the end of the run.  They couldn’t just be human heroes, like Kirk, McCoy, or Scotty.  I felt that the Sarah Sisko plot just stretched the idea way beyond believability.

The last season of Star Trek: The Next Generation, featured some really dreadful episodes (“Phantasms,” “Dark Page,” “Homeward,” “Sub Rosa,” “Eye of the Beholder” and “Emergence”), but none worse than “Force of Nature,” which rewrote the rules of Star Trek to suggest that warp speed travel was an environmental hazard to space/time.  

You would think that the Traveler’s people -- who zipped about at speed far greater than the Enterprise ever did -- would have been aware of this fact.  This idea is probably one of the worst conceits in Star Trek history, and follow-up episodes had to laboriously explain why the Enterprise was breaking the restriction on warp speed limits.  Yech.

Star Trek: Voyager ended on a sour note for me with the unexpected, unnatural development of a Chakotay/Seven of Nine romance.  These two characters and performers shared no chemistry, and no history of romance, and the whole plot was as contrived as the Sarah Sisko revelation on Deep Space Nine.  The first several seasons had established the groundwork for a Janeway/Chakotay rapport and connection, and by the seventh season the idea was just dropped.  Also, the episode that brought Kes back into the fold is one of the worst stories I’ve ever seen on network television. 

So, in my opinion all three programs hung around too long, especially since the sixth season was so strong in the case of Next Gen and DS9.

So far as programs writing themselves into a corner, I’m afraid I’m going to harp on the two genre programs I have commented negatively upon lately, the remade Battlestar Galactica and Lost.

I would again like to plead my case that I don’t hate these programs or feel that they were worthless, only that in the end they both squandered a great deal of audience love and good faith by having no real plan for their closing seasons or installments.

Both shows had to go endure creative contortions to justify their ending episodes, and even with those contortions, the finales failed to impress. 

So many mysteries on Lost were never adequately explained. The Others, who originally could seemingly rip people out of existence, changed into just another tribe on the island, for example.   The series introduced -- and then just as quickly dropped --  the Tail-ies and new characters such as Mr. Eko, Nikki and Paolo.  The overall impression was of a series lurching from one idea to the other with no coherent plan at all. 

Battlestar Galactica similarly had to survive creative contortions to justify Mrs. Tigh as a secret Cylon, and the whole final subplot with Starbuck as some kind of weird angel-thing just never worked at all. 

Lost peaked after one season in my opinion, and BSG after two. 

It’s ironic, but after the finales of both programs, fan interest dropped off precipitously because the final chapters didn’t live up to expectations.  Had Lost or BSG been canceled earlier, they would be championed and talked about constantly today as great sci-fi series that died before their time.  

Instead, they serve as powerful reminders to current genre programs of a serialized nature that all the artistic and creative “good” leading up to the last chapter may be, in the end, worthless, if the final “pages” of the story disappoint.

The Cult-TV Faces of: The Show (or Movie) within a Show

Identified by Chadzilla: The Twilight Zone: "It's a Good Life."

Identified by Sirrus: Tales from the Darkside: "Distant Signals."

Identified by Carl: Dr. Who: "Vengeance on Varos."

Not Identified: Twin Peaks: "Invitation to Love."

Not Identified: She-Wolf of London: "Beyond the Beyond."

Identified by Carl: The Simpsons.

Identified by Dr. Howard Margolin: The Adventures of Captain Zoom in Outer Space.

Identified by Terri Wilson: Millennium: "Jose Chung's Doomsday Defense."

Identified by Chadzilla: Angel: "Birthday."

Identified by SGB: The X-Files: "Hollywood A.D."

Identified by Carl: Futurama.

Identified by SGB: Star Trek Voyager: "Bride of Chaotica."

Identified by SGB: Stargate-SG1, the crew of Wormhole-X-treme.

Not Identified: Veronica Mars: "I am God."

Identified by SGB: Supernatural.

Identified by Dr. Howard Margolin: Smallville: "Action."