Star Trek 50th Anniversary Blogging: "The Apple" (October 13, 1967)

                                                                               

Stardate: 3715.3

Captain Kirk (William Shatner) and a large landing party beam down to Gamma Trianguli VI, an Earth-like planet that bears (favorable) comparison with the mythical Garden of Eden.

The planet proves anything but a paradise, however, as landing party team members die from such menaces as dart-firing flowers, explosive rocks, and, finally, lightning strikes.

Meanwhile, in orbit, the Enterprise is suddenly gripped by an unknown force, and Kirk threatens to fire Scotty (James Doohan) if he can’t find a way to reverse the ship’s orbital decay.

After Spock (Leonard Nimoy) detects a strange subterranean power field and structure nearby, Kirk and the landing party head to investigate it. They soon find a primitive tribe of humanoids, led by Akuta (Keith Andes) that serve a mysterious God called Vaal.

Vaal, the landing party learns, is a giant stone statue built into the side of a mountain. The natives “feed” Vaal by throwing the explosive rocks (a powerful source) into his vast maw. 

Dr. McCoy (De Forest Kelley) is horrified to learn that the natives of the village know nothing of love or children, because of Vaal’s influence. Vaal cares for them and provides for them, but keeps them in a kind of developmentally arrested stasis.

Kirk decides to interfere, and destroy Vaal, realizing it is the only possible way to save the Enterprise.

"The Apple” is probably not Star Trek’s (1966-1969) finest hour. 

Once more, a story involves Kirk interfering with a primitive alien culture run by a computer (“Return of the Archons,” “A Taste of Armageddon,”) violating the Prime Directive, and substituting his personal morality and wisdom for that of another culture’s.

The story is all-too familiar, and ends with a virtual repeat of the conclusion of “Who Mourns for Adonais.” 

There, Apollo’s temple was destroyed by phasers, and his threat to the Enterprise is terminated. Here, Vaal, the Stone God, gets the same phaser treatment.

Before I delve into the episode’s moral implications, I should note that “The Apple” is poorly paced, and oddly structured too.

The first act is largely devoted to the planet's (and Vaal's) attempt to eradicate Starfleet red-shirts.  One after the other, hapless security personnel get killed, and Kirk wrings his hands, blaming himself.  These trained men get killed by flowers, step on exploding rocks, and are even targeted by lightning.

Since we don’t get to know the red-shirts before their bizarre demises, these deaths don’t seem to carry all that much meaning and are, again, forgotten by the time of humorous finale in which Kirk compares Spock to Satan.

All's well that ends well, I guess.

Now, in terms of Kirk’s decision to interfere in matters on Gamma Trianguli VI, I submit that he makes a very wrong one in “The Apple.”

Vaal provides the natives with virtual immortality. They live in peace, and, let’s face it, they do even have a job of sorts (the dinner bell rings regularly, apparently…). But they face no disease or strife, and do not even know what the word “kill” means.  

They are innocent, and Vaal preserves their innocence.

Is this different from how we choose to live? 

Of course it is, but who is to say that Earth’s way, or Starfleet’s way is any more valid for human beings than Vaal’s way is?  

Bones only sees humans in thrall to a machine. By contrast, Spock sees a perfectly symbiotic system that has worked efficiently, and to everyone's benefit, for tens of thousands of years.

Tell me, please, what organization, ideology or government on Earth has maintained peace and stability for that length of time? 

Look, I may actively disagree with the way of life on Gamma Trianguli VI because it is not my way. 

But I hope I have the wisdom to realize that not everyone must live by my choices.  Being free means the freedom to make your own choices, and your own mistakes.  Whether Kirk's judgment is right or wrong, he takes that decision away from this planet.  

And he is particularly glib at the end of "The Apple," noting that if the natives keep going the way they are, they’ll know all about children soon enough.

Yes, indeed captain, and some women may die in childbirth, since these people have absolutely no experience with medicine, health care, or even child-birthing.  

Essentially, Kirk does act as the snake in the Garden of Eden in this story, ejecting Vaal’s people from paradise, but then -- amazingly -- leaving them on their own.

What’s the mitigating circumstance here? 

Only that if Kirk doesn’t interfere, the Enterprise will be destroyed. 

Yet as I have written before, starship captains in the Federation swear an oath not to disobey the Prime Directive, General Order One, even if it means the lives of their crew.  

So, “the Enterprise will be destroyed” is not a valid excuse for Kirk’s actions here, and certainly not so in terms of Starfleet rules and regulations.  

What remains remarkable about “The Apple” is that -- clearly -- the writers know that Kirk is on shaky ground, making a difficult call. 

How can I assert this?  

Just look at the debate between Spock and McCoy.  Spock raises all the points that I do in this review. He clearly possesses grave reservations about Kirk’s behavior, and decisions.  According to a Star Trek comic from DC, “Return of the Serpent,” Spock’s suspicions prove accurate. 

When the Enterprise returns to the planet in 15 years, it has descended into factionalism and murder.  The people, after 20,000 years or so in paradise, were not prepared for the change Kirk forced on them.

Spock’s answer? Restore Vaal. Undo Kirk's actions in "The Apple."

I suppose I should be clear about this. I am sensitive to Kirk’s arguments about how men and women should love each other and bear children, and toil for a living, raising crops, or doing jobs.  Hey, that’s the life I proudly live as a husband and father, a writer and a teacher at a community college.  I support Kirk’s belief that his way -- my way -- is a good thing.  

What I don’t support, however, is his right to select for Vaal’s people how they should live.

He could have asked them.  

Before taking down Vaal, he could have told them, “This is how we live. This is why it is good.”  He could then tell them that, if they agree, he could help them build a life like that, but that they must do it free of Vaal’s stewardship.

Look at it this way: Should I walk over to my neighbor’s house, and tell him that he should drive a hybrid car? 

Seeing that his gasoline car is dangerous, should I just destroy it, forcing a change upon him that he hasn’t contemplated?  

In that scenario, my facts may be solid, but I still have no right to infringe upon or usurp somebody else’s decision-making process.  I could provide my neighbor the facts, and implore him to switch…but I shouldn’t torch his car without consulting him, right?

An in-universe example would involve Starfleet attacking Vulcan, so that all Vulcans agree to express emotions like humans do.  

Again, humans could make the case for the efficacy of emotions and feelings.  But they have no right to force a change on a free people who don’t want that change.  To quote Star Trek VI, that's "...arrogant presumption."

I’ve talked about it before, but I find this “gunboat” diplomacy of some Star Trek episodes quite distasteful. 

It says, essentially, agree with my way, or it’s the phaser banks for you.

All this information about "The Apple" established, there are some elements I love about this episode. 

Yeoman Landon (Celeste Yarnall) kicks ass in terms of hand-to-hand fighting abilities.  I love that she can more-than-handle herself in a fight.  I have noted before the occasions when Star Trek feels "sixties sexist," and so it is only fair to note when the opposite is true.  Here, Landon holds her own in close-quarters combat with club-wielding villagers.

Also, I love the design of Vaal: the Serpent Mouth built into the side of a mountain. 

I own a Mego toy of Vaal, and it is proudly displayed in my home office. 

And just a week or so ago, after I watched the episode with my nine year old son, Joel for the first time, we built a Vaal statue (and subterranean facility) together in a Minecraft world.  

My son actually rigged a device that looks like a flower to stand next to Vaal. It features a dispenser at the center, and fires arrows at any threatening invaders.

  

Next Week: “The Doomsday Machine.”

The Films of 2016: Blair Witch

[Beware of Major, Major Spoilers]

More than fifteen years after its debut, The Blair Witch Project (1999) remains one of the most important titles in horror film history.  Although one can always point to historical antecedents like Punishment Park (1971) or Cannibal Holocaust (1980), The Blair Witch Project is undoubtedly the film responsible for popularizing the found-footage sub-genre.

More than that, the Edward Sanchez, Daniel Myrick film established so many parameters of that popular formula, from the talking confession to scene the night vision scene, from the “let them eat static” visual interference to the timeless central setting itself: the dark, sinister woods.

I count The Blair Witch Project as not only a significant title in film history, but one that -- naysayers aside -- is extremely well-made. What the film truly seems to concern is the fact that the more technology we possess, the less we actually see. 

There are many cameras and other recording devices present in the original film, and yet they do nothing to prove or disprove the existence of the Blair Witch. The cameras add absolutely nothing to the investigation, but they do add, significantly, an important filter on reality.  

The film’s protagonist Heather (Heather Donohue) is able, for example, to hide behind the camera viewfinder and pretend that what she believes to be happening isn’t really happening.  The footage isn’t quite reality, as her friend, Josh, points out.  In some way, this is a critique of our culture, and the mass media.  When we see something terrible on CNN, over and over again, we can comfort ourselves that the tragedy arrives through the filters of a camera, editing, time, and distance.

Or contrarily, perhaps the footage seen in the film is actually as “real” as human  life gets: showcasing no answers, and no real closure.

But The Blair Witch Project is a high-water mark for the found footage film because it juxtaposes two ideas brilliantly. The first is that we have all the technology we need to capture (on film or videotape), something previously hidden…a monster, for example.  

And then it runs that conceit up against another one: a monster that can, apparently, reshape reality to its liking, making all such technology utterly worthless.

What works so beautifully (and perpetually) about The Blair Witch Project is the frightening notion that there are mysteries and monsters in this world that cannot be recorded, quantified, diagnosed, comprehended, or beaten...let alone seen.  

Although some audiences were outraged about the film’s lack of an onscreen monster, The Blair Witch Project understood better than just about any movie ever made that once you show the monster, fear has left the room.  Permanently. More recent found-footage films such as Paranormal Activity (2007) have kowtowed to audience demands by giving demons from Hell crowd-pleasing close-up focus, but only at the sacrifice of true terror.

Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2 (2000) did not recapture the magic of The Blair Witch Project in a meaningful way, perhaps because at that juncture the culture was still processing exactly the reasons why the original film worked as well as it did. I will be reviewing the first sequel here on the blog on Thursday, but it is very much inferior to the original.

Now, in 2016, we finally have Blair Witch, the second follow-up film to the 1999 original, and a film that works relatively well in many ways, but also fails to live up to the original in others.

Blair Witch follows on brilliantly from the original film in terms of diagramming the witch’s unusual and mind-blowing abilities.  The sequel falls apart, however, in its debased desire to please general audiences.  I still recommend the film and rate it positively.  I merely wish that it didn’t feel the need to include a surfeit of ineffective jump scares.  Call it the Conjuring effect.  Now every horror movie is more likely to feature a jump scare than it is a culturally-relevant subtext.

The Blair Witch Project didn’t need a new jump scare every five minutes to keep audiences immersed in the drama, but I suppose attention spans have dropped off precipitously since 1999. 

Still, Blair Witch is very much the sequel I hoped for in one crucial sense. It depicts -- frighteningly and memorably -- the cerebral terror of the unseen but titular monster.  If you love the first film, or even want to understand it better, this sequel is very much worth your investment of time and money.

Fifteen years after his sister’s disappearance, James Donohue (James Allen McCune) sees a video on YouTube that he believes includes an image of Heather.

While his friend Lisa (Callie Hernandez) shoots a documentary of James’ story, James, and two other friends, Peter (Brandon Scott) and Ashley (Corbin Reid) head to the Black Hills of Maryland -- and the town of Burkittsville -- to see if they can find the house in the woods that everyone saw both in Heather’s original footage, and now, again, in the online video.

At the Black Hills, the team reluctantly teams with Lane (Wes Robinson) and his girlfriend, Talia (Vaolire Curry), the people who found the new video in the Black Hills. Lane wants to make a documentary about the Blair Witch too, and demands to accompany James' group.

The group heads into the woods, and crosses a river.  Lisa, meanwhile, is ready, this time, in case the filmmakers should get lost. She has brought along cameras with GPS indicators, and a drone, among other high-tech toys.

Before long, however, the youngsters begin to experience strange events.  At first, these are dismissed as a hoax orchestrated by Lane.  Before long, however, the Blair Witch is up to her old tricks.

Lisa and James, finally, discover a house in the woods. Drenched in pounding rain, they head inside the darkened, mysterious house -- which shows up on no maps, and which no search parties ever found -- to see if Heather remains inside, after all these years.

The case against Blair Witch is obvious, alas. The film relies, for too long, on poorly constructed jump scares.  Characters keep running into each other in the woods, and shout in terror, until, finally, one character says -- in conjunction with audience wishes --“Cut it out!”

Indeed. Cut it out.

The jump scares are repetitive and don’t work particularly well. One reason why they fail involves setting. The majority of the film is set in deep woods, at nights. The cameras are worn on the characters’ heads, and so the jump scares consist of a pivot and a jump, as people run into each other unexpectedly. 

But it’s difficult to make out who is running to whom.  

The found footage nature of the proceeding means that the precision needed to execute a jump scare successfully is simply not present. Or not as present as it should be.

These scenes don’t work well.  I understand why people complain about them.

On the other hand, this development is not a deal-breaker because Blair Witch provided me of what I wanted out of the sequel: a deepening of the mystery around the Blair Witch and her powers.  There is a cold, cerebral terror underlining every frame of this film, as James, Lisa and the others walk into a trap that they were always destined to walk into.

In The Blair Witch Project, Heather, Joshua and Michael could not find their way out of the woods. The compass led them one way, all day, and yet they walked in a circle.  Once in the woods, they could simply not escape, and one possibility was that the witch had cursed them; and was manipulating reality itself in her pursuit of them. They crossed the same river, walking in one direction, over and over again.

Blair Witch absolutely picks up on this notion, and does so beautifully and intelligently. In this film, the Witch apparently alters the basics of reality -- meaning time and space -- so that fate arrives at a pre-ordained conclusion.

In this sequel, for instance, some characters claim they have been in the woods for five days, not one, and they have grown the stubble and beards to prove the passage of time. For other characters, it has been only hours.

There is no overt explanation for this.

Similarly, when Lisa sends a drone up over the high trees, it registers that there are no houses anywhere, and no roads or homes beyond the Black Hills, either.  It’s as if the whole world is forest. Or at least the entire region. 

Or, perhaps, this discovery suggests that the witch has taken the unlucky hikers to a time period, perhaps, in which our civilization doesn’t yet exist.  This possibility, while terrifying, also allows for the possibility however, that Heather and the others are still alive.  

If time has no meaning in these woods, then James could stumble upon Heather and the others lost in the woods from the first film.

This idea recurs later. The house from the end of The Blair Witch Project re-appears in the finale of Blair Witch.  We know from franchise lore that Rustin Parr’s house has burned down, but what if this is Rustin Parr’s house after all…only from a time before it burned down?  If the witch controls time and space, that is certainly a real possibility.

Late in the film, in a harrowing scene of sustained claustrophobia (but which seems inspired by the final sequence of the brilliant Final Prayer [2014]), Lisa pushes her way through a dark, wet, earthen tunnel, only to arrive back in the room in which she departed. Like Heather, Josh and Mike encountering the same river again and again, space here is very much like a Mobius Strip; no end, no beginning.

When Lisa and James explore the nightmare house, the idea of a reality outside our consensus reality is cemented. The house is TARDIS-like in dimension, with dozens of individual rooms inside.  Each of these rooms is the final destination -- a location in Hell, perhaps -- for one of the witch’s victims.  The hallways seem to go on forever. Each a separate and individual Hell, where you shall stand in the corner, too afraid to see what might be standing right behind you.

But the best twist the final one, only seen briefly, and never commented on directly.  James goes into the woods because of a video that was discovered in the woods, and uploaded to YouTube.  It was shot on DV tape, and shows a young woman -- bloodied and dirtied -- in the house in the woods.  

James assumes the woman is Heather, and that she is still alive.

As a fleeting shot near the end of the film reveals, that woman is not Heather. It is Lisa, bloodied and dirtied from a scuffle and her experience in the tunnel.  So, to be plain: James and the others are lured into the woods in the first place by the DV Tape that Lisa shoots once in the house, once they have actually all been in the woods.  

Time has been bent and twisted like that Mobius Strip, in this case to fulfill a dark destiny.  The tape is the bread crumb that brings the kids to the woods, but the tape was shot and made after they came to the woods.

Paradoxical and scary, right?

Rightfully so, the movie offers no explanation for this clever twist, or for the circular nature of the narrative, but it is exactly what I hoped for in a sequel.  

Not answers.  I didn't want answers.

Answers are no fun, and they subtract from the horror.  

We aren’t scared by what we know; we are scared by what we don’t know. 

In this case, Blair Witch offers us an intriguing, deeper view of the witch’s powers. Now, having seen this film, we can  go back and view the original film in another light.  Heather and the others were not merely lost in the woods; they may have been lost in time (which accounts, perhaps, for the reason they could never find their car: it simply wasn’t there).

The final, harrowing sequence of Blair Witch also works well, because the filmmakers incorporate many elements you may find familiar from mythology. For example, we learn in this film that if you look upon the face of the Blair Witch directly, you will die of fright. 

But Lisa finds a way around that edict by looking through the viewfinder of her camera; an indirect viewpoint.  This development reminds me of the Medusa legend, and the notion that to look at the Gorgon will turn anyone to stone.  To look at her reflection, however, is a different story.

Another myth this ending seems to reflect: that of Eurydice and Orpheus. As you may recall, Orpheus attempted to return his dead love, Eurydice, from Tartarus.  All he had to do to claim his lost love was not look behind him until he exited the after-life.  He was not able to do it, and he lost Eurydice forever. 

Here, similarly, we see Lisa gazing through her viewfinder, attempting to walk backwards out of the house, without looking at the witch, without looking back.  She takes a few steps, but then hears James asking for help.

You may suspect what happens to her.

Blair Witch is not gut-wrenching scary in the fashion of the original Blair Witch Project, but it is scary enough, at least in terms of what it portends for those who enter that horrible house in the woods, surely an antechamber of Hell itself.  

The fear is psychological, however.  The film is not just about being lost in the woods, but being lost in a place with no exits, no escape. And in that place a monster is preying on your psychology, fooling you, misdirecting you.  You can't play for time, because the monster controls time.

Finally, I also give Blair Witch credit for not answering the persistent demand of unimaginative audiences and revealing, for the camera, the Blair Witch.  This decision not to fully reveal the witch (except, perhaps, in silhouette during a lightning storm, and in one long-distance night shot), preserves the horror of the character and continues to reflect an important idea.

What is that idea?  We have more cameras snapping pictures today, on a daily basis, than any time in human history. And not once has a camera photographed, definitively, a demon, a dragon, a Sasquatch, or any other creature of myth and legend.

The found-footage formula is all about creating an immersive, ultra-realistic experience. If we could see the monster, we'd be in a different, less realistic kind of horror film.

Blair Witch has received mixed reviews from audiences and critics, and I can see why. The jump scares are too frequent, and not very successful.  In fact, they're annoying.  

The characters, at least to begin with, are not overly memorable or unique, either. 

Yet the filmmakers have gone to special pains here to develop the “lore” of the Blair Witch, and create another adventure in which her unusual powers imply things not known, only suspected. This is a movie about implications and suggestions; about horror that are incomprehensible, and inhuman in dimension.

I am grateful for the film’s approach in terms of psychology, even though I would be happy to dispense with the tiresome jump scares. In the final analysis, what I wanted most from a Blair Witch sequel was a return to that house in the woods, and a deeper exploration -- though not explanation -- of the witch’s modus operandi.

Blair Witch delivers on that desire cleverly and consistently. and so sixteen years later, we finally have a sequel to a classic horror film that grows the franchise instead of constricting it.

Movie Trailer: The Blair Witch (2016)

Ask JKM a Question: More Savage Cinema Titles?

A reader, Marcus, writes:

I'm a big fan of yours and especially love your write ups on savage cinema. 

You introduced me to Southern Comfort, for which I can't thank you enough. 

Besides the ones you've written about (Southern Comfort, Deliverance, I Spit On Your Grave, Last House On The Left, Straw Dogs, The Hills Have Eyes and more recently Green Room) I can't think of any other examples of movies from this genre. 

Is the genre really that limited, or are there many gems that I haven't seen out there waiting to be discovered?

Marcus, that is a great question. 

Indeed...I love the savage cinema.  

Films of this type are "my" kind of horror films because they grapple with existential angst. If confronted with violence, you must meet it with violence, right?  Whether to save your loved ones, or save yourself.  

But if you are a moral person, against violence in principle, what does your bloody response do to your identity? 

There are ethics involved, so deeply, in the savage cinema.

This is how I wrote about the format/formula back in 2012, when I was regularly featuring Savage Fridays here on the blog:

"The Savage Cinema, as I like to call it, grew out of a film movement that began, arguably with Bonnie and Clyde (1967).  You’ll recall, perhaps, that Arthur Penn movie’s frankness about sex (conveyed in ubiquitous phallic imagery…), as well as the film’s unbelievably bloody and downbeat ending. 

As the 1960s turned into the 1970s, the “New Freedom” arrived in full, and cutting-edge filmmakers began to vet stories -- horror stories, I maintain – about basic human nature. 

In tales of the Savage Cinema, resources are scarce, compromise is impossible, and two “sides” go to war.  The Haves and the Have Nots (The Hills Have Eyes [1977]), the lawful and the unlawful (The Last House on the Left [1972]), the male and female (I Spit on Your Grave [1978]), the liberated and traditional (Straw Dogs [1971]), even city folk and country folk (Deliverance [1972]) find that there’s no room for debate…only bloodshed and hatred.

And in each one of these films, for the most part, there’s an Every Man (or Every Woman) who is drawn or pulled into combat, and must consequently re-evaluate his or her sense of morality to contend with the sudden, often inexplicable outbreak of violence.  

That Every Person rises to an unexpected challenge, but also – in some way – succumbs to the basest human instinct: to kill.

In the crucible of (unwanted) combat, the Every Person thoroughly tests him or herself.  Does he or she have what it takes to survive?  Does this character descend, finally, into bloody violence?  And what is the personal, mental, and physical toll of shedding civilization and established norms of morality, even for an instant?   Can you come back from that?  Do you want to come back from that?"

So your question is: are there other examples of this cut-throat, extremely violent sub-genre?

The answer is affirmative.  One of the greatest modern savage cinema films is The Strangers (2008), which depicts what appears to be a completely random murder spree, and finds two young protagonists fighting for their lives, when what they want to be doing is "navel gazing" at their romantic relationship. 

Oddly enough, films of the New French Extremity are also very strong, in terms of the themes and concepts of the Savage Cinema.  These films seem to have picked right up where the 70s films left off.  

Martyrs (2008), for example, is not only of the greatest horror films ever made, but one that suggests, in some way, that by enduring violence and pain, human beings can experience a form of transcendence. 

I appreciate this notion because a key tenet of the savage cinema is existentialism.  It's the idea that there is no purpose to the suffering and violence we endure.  Martyrs finds a way to suggest that, perhaps, there is meaning behind it.

Irreversible (2002) is another one of the greats. My review is here.  Suffice it to say, this Gasper Noe film is the 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) of the Savage Cinema.  If you like this kind of film, and feel prepared for what you are going to witness, I highly recommend it. But really make certain that you are ready, and that you understand what you are getting in for.  This is a very disturbing "rape and revenge" film.

In terms of older, classic films, I recommend Ms. 45 (1981), and Death Game (1977), and -- perhaps, if you're in the right frame of mind --- Cannibal Holocaust (1980).  All these films deal uneasily with violence (sexual and otherwise), and concepts of what it means to be truly "civilized."

Of course, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1973) fits into this category too, but I presume you've seen it.  Motel Hell (1980), in some way, seems a satire of the whole savage cinema milieu, and I wholeheartedly recommend it on those terms.

Although the remake or Straw Dogs (2011) missed the mark, I felt that the remakes of Last House on the Left (2009), and The Hills Have Eyes (2006) were both well-worth watching.  On TV, The X-Files (1993 - 2002) gave us the "banned from network television" episode "Home," and Torchwood (2006-2011) offered the unforgettable "Countrycide."

So start with those "savage" titles and see where you can go from there.

Don't forget to ask me your questions at Muirbusiness@yahoo.com

Cult-TV Theme Watch: Cheerleaders

A cheerleader is a person who chants, dances and cheers for his or her team. A cheerleader uses his or her voice, as well as body, to demonstrate support for an organization, usually involved with sports.

Cheerleaders have appeared throughout cult-TV history, not in always flattering forms, but most often so.

TV’s most famous cheerleader is likely Buffy Summers (Sarah Michelle Gellar) of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer (1997-2003).  

A valley girl, Buffy wants time to date boys and be a high school cheerleader, but instead must constantly defend her town, Sunnydale, from the undead spewed out by the Hellmouth.  

The whole (brilliant) series plays as an explosion of tropes.  Buffy -- the stereotypically “stupid” or insipid cheerleader -- is actually the savior of the whole world.

In 2006, the NBC series Heroes (2006-2010) also featured a cheerleader -- Claire Bennet (Hayden Panettiere) -- in a prominent role.  

A mutant/superhero with the ability to regenerate, Claire Bennet became the fulcrum of the series’ first season; right down to its legendary and memorable motto: “Save the Cheerleader; Save the World.”

Virtually every high-school-focused cult-TV series in history has featured a cheerleader character at one point or another.  

Lana Lang (Kristin Kreuk) in Smallville (2001 – 2011) spent some time in the first season as a cheerleader for the Smallville High team, before seeking a life beyond the football field.

  

And The Vampire Diaries (2009 – 2018) also sees its juvenile characters, namely Elena Gilbert (Nina Dobrev) and Caroline (Candace King) taking part in cheerleading in its early, high-school based season.

Going back further, The X-Files (1993 – 2002), featured a third season episode by Chris Carter, “Syzygy” wherein two cheerleaders – affected by a cosmic conjunction – develop terrifying psychic powers.  The two cheerleaders, while seemingly inseparable, are also portrayed as sadistic and horrible people.

The Cult-TV Faces of: Cheerleaders

1

Identified by Hugh: Twin Peaks.

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

Identified by Hugh: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Identified by Hugh: MST3K

Identified by Hugh: Smallville

Identified by Hugh: SNL.

Identified by Hugh: Heroes.

Identified by Hugh: Supernatural.

Identified by Hugh: The Vampire Diaries.

Identified by Hugh: Criminal Minds: "Pariahville" (2015).

Identified by Terri Wilson: Hemlock Grove.

At Flashbak: Toys of the 25th Century (Buck Rogers!)

This week at Flashbak is a piece that was supposed to run last week.  It’s a hold-over from my Buck Rogers Week here on the blog.

Here’s a snippet and the url: (http://flashbak.com/25th-century-toys-circa-1979-remembering-buck-rogers-collectibles-365097/ )

“Thirty-seven years ago this week, Buck Rogers in the 25^th Century (1979-1981) aired for the first time on NBC TV.  Although the series only ran for two seasons, it left an indelible impact on the Star Wars (1977) generation.

For one thing, Buck Rogers helped pass the (interminable) years between Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back (1980), and for another, the series captured well Star Wars’ sense of humor and sense of comic-book inspiration. Before the second season, anyway, it never took itself too seriously.

Accordingly, Buck Rogers toys soon dominated toy store shelves.  Today, I want to look back at some of my favorite merchandise from the era.

First up, HG Toys “Galactic Play Set.”

This huge Buck Rogers toy came complete with "over 35 pieces.” The set included a "space station with movable ladder, 2 Draconian marauders, 2 starfighters, 8 space commandos, 10 aliens," and "fully detailed figures of Buck Rogers, Wilma Deering, Killer Kane, Dr. Huer, Tigerman, Draco, Twiki and Princess Ardala."

Also present: "a colorful diorama set-up and assembly instructions."

The toy company Mego, meanwhile, released small action figures, toy ships, and one very memorable playset: The Starfighter Command Center.  The toy box suggests: "Issue commands to Buck and monitor his flight pattern with this authentic replica of the Buck Rogers Star Fighter Command Center!"

The toy also includes "2 level deck with radar screens and railings," "Cut-out landing and launch pad for Buck's Star Fighter," and "landing control console for use with Mego Buck Rogers 3 3/4 action figures and all other poseable 3 3/4 action figures."

Please continue reading at Flashbak.

Saturday Morning Cult-TV Blogging: Space Stars Episode #8 (October 31, 1981)

More juvenile space adventuring is the order of the day for Hanna Barbera’s Space Stars (1981), episode 8. 

At times, the patronizing, kiddie nature of the adventure is downright distracting.  Science-free, thought-free, and maturity-free, the series is a huge disappointment at this point. I can’t imagine being a fan of Star Wars or Star Trek in 1981, and then tuning into this pre-adolescent program on Saturday mornings.  It gives science fiction a bad name.

First up is Space Ghost in “Space Spectre.”

This short is a riff on Star Trek’s (1966-1969) famous parallel dimension episode, “Mirror, Mirror.”  

Only here, a black hole is the passageway between mirror realities.  In one universe, we have Space Ghost, the hero, and in the opposite dimension is Space Spectre, an evil space pirate.  

The two heroes cross universes, and Jan isn’t even able to detect that the Phantom Cruiser -- now jet black instead of immaculate white -- has changed colors, before docking with it and immediately being captured. 

In the end the counterparts fight, and Space Spectre is defeated because Space Ghost has “friends” and Space Spectre does not.

Second in the roster is the Teen Force with “Ultimate Battle.” 

That name is a bit of misnomer since this is yet another story -- the same one we see each week, essentially -- in which our space cycle-bound heroes combat the hapless Uglor. 

When Uglor uses a weather control device on the “Free Planets,” the Teen Force surrenders to the warlord. They then suggest to him a contest in which they fight one another. But Uglor chooses the local: “The Evil Island” (which happens to be surrounded by an acid sea).

There, the story takes a weird and derivative turn -- becoming a strange knock-off of The Island of Dr. Moreau (1977) -- as the Teen Force encounters Uglor’s “humanimals.” These creatures, including a wolf-man and a giant star-fish, rebel against their cruel lawgiver.

The Herculoids story this week is a modest, though not insulting affair called “The Thunderbolt” in which the Herculoids contend with a friendly dinosaur who becomes electrified, and attacks them. 

The Herculoids must also save Zandor from a rock collapse.

The second part of the hour opens with another underwhelming Space Ghost story: “The Big Freeze.” The narrator tells us that this tale has a “chilling nature,” and so we are in for ten minutes of bad “ice” puns that would make Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Mr. Freeze cringe with embarrassment.

Basically, Space Ghost and his sidekicks must face off against an Insta-Freeze beam controlled by an alien troll in a purple robe, named Pharon. 

He is angry because all the inhabited worlds are tropical, but his people can only live in icy conditions.  Therefore, he is re-arranging planets to his biological requirements.

Following “The Big Freeze” is an installment of “Astro and the Space Mutts” called “The Greatest Show Off Earth.”

Here, Space Ace and his canine partners attend the Space-ling Flying Circus, but the circus -- and the crew’’s clothes! -- are stolen by a villain called Cosmic Clown. He is literally a clown; one flies in a circus tent spaceship and voices dialogue such as “Hang it up, Turkeys! Nobody catches Cosmic Clown!”  The Teen Force has a guest appearance in this segment, when Cosmic Clown is pursued into Uglor’s territory.

The Space Star Finale is called “Endangered Spacies,” and yes, the person responsible for that pun should be ashamed.  Here, a spaceship attacks Quasar. The alien who commands it abducts Zandor and wants to add him to the Alien Country Safari, “The Greatest Human Show in the Universe.” Astro and the Space Mutts also get involved, when Space Ace is similarly captured.

The “Space Magic” black-out this week involves the Herculoids, and a rope trick about tying knots. The coda finds Gleep tying himself into a bow tie. 

The “Space Fact” of the week features the Teen Force, who discuss why it gets dark at night, and comment on Earth’s rotation.  

The “Space Mystery” follows up on that “fact” and features a villain who hides in a planet’s arctic zone that features no night or day.  Finally, Space Ghost attempts to decipher the week’s “Space Code.”

Only three more episodes of this terrible series, but I’m going to power through!

Saturday Morning Cult-TV Blogging: Shazam: "The Brain" (November 9, 1974)

In “The Brain,” Mentor (Les Tremayne) and Billy (Michael Gray) befriend a smart but lonely boy named Jimmy Carter (!) (Christopher Man). 

Jimmy is nicknamed “The Brain” and wants very much to belong in a group of friends.

A bully, Greg (Biff Warren), however, arranges an initiation ritual for Jimmy at a dangerous construction site at a nearby beach.

Greg also participates in the initiation and becomes endangered when a conveyer belt unexpectedly activates.  It’s up to Captain Marvel (Jackson Bostwick) to save Greg from injury or death.

“The Brain,” by Donald F. Glut, returns to the Filmation series’ of tradition of having the Elders quote a famous historical and/or literary figure. 

In this case, that figure of renown is Davy Crockett. The Elders warn Billy about the fact that some people would place themselves to be put in danger to be accepted. And then comes the quote: “Be always sure you’re right. Then go ahead.”  So, it's not hard to determine that the message of this episode involves peer pressure.

Jimmy Carter -- the boy that Mentor and Billy encounter in the “Brain” -- besides anticipating the name of a 1970s President is a seventies-style geek. He is a devoted reader (currently reading Oliver Twist), and he possesses a fascination with making costumes and masks. On his bedroom wall, he hangs a poster of Captain Marvel. 

Today, of course, we live in a culture wherein the geeks won. 

They rule the world, and they especially rule in Hollywood (sometimes to the detriment of the movie business, actually…). But in the early 1970s, when this series was made, the war was not yet won. Young boys who didn’t love sports were thought to be somehow inferior, or wrong.  Jimmy is the person who the Elders make note of, who would do something dangerous to be accepted.

Intriguingly, that may not actually be the case, if you read between the lines.  In fact, the bully, Greg, is the one who is nearly hurt, and one wonders if he is putting himself in danger to be accepted; knowing that he is not likable, or smart.

It’s nice to see this episode of Shazam show the geek, Jimmy, to be a bright, engaged, resourceful person. In my experience, that’s the way geeks are, or at least they were, before the Internet allowed some to exercise their Ids so vociferously.

“The Brain” is a good episode of Shazam, buoyed by the shooting locations, namely that huge, industrial wreck on the beach.  Once again, this series features no standing sets, save for the interior of Mentor’s camper. 

And this week, the locations work to help sell the danger of the “initiation.”

Next week: “Little Boy Lost.”