CULT TV FLASHBACK #69: Dark Skies (1996-1997)

Here’s a decent a science fiction TV effort from the 1990s that probably didn’t get the love it deserved during its original network broadcast. In fact, the expensive, highly-promoted Dark Skies suffered cancellation after a pilot and just nineteen hour-long episodes aired on NBC.

Dark Skies (1996-1997) ran during the reign of the magnificent X-Files, and – rightly or wrongly – has always been viewed by an unimpressed media in the shadow of that more popular creation; as an unworthy imitation rather than as its own individual (and original) thing.

Variety termed Dark Skies “shamelessly derivative” of the X-Files and The Invaders, while The Skeptical Enquirer dubbed the series a “clone” of Chris Carter’s series. Entertainment Weekly noted Dark Skies boasted “amazing gall” and concluded that the sci-fi proceedings -- if not laughable -- were “at least snickerable.”

The tantalizing premise of Dark Skies is that – simply stated – American history as we have learned it and experienced it is a sham. It's nothing but a carefully-constructed confabulation. Assassinations, natural disasters, presidential elections, economic upheavals and foreign wars are all merely the cover story for something else, something far more sinister.

In particular, these turbulent events are the results of the American government’s pitched battle against a malevolent extra-terrestrial alien collective consciousness known as “The Hive.”

Battling the Hive is a dedicated, secret American military organization called SHADO.

No, just kidding.

The secret organization is “Majestic 12,” led by Captain Frank Bach (the late J.T. Walsh). Bach’s agency was formed after the Roswell encounter in 1947, and on Dark Skies it was operating well into the 1960s. Like Commander Straker before him, Bach wasn’t interested in pursuing half-measures or courtesies. His mission was to save America from evil aliens. Pure and simple. This mission made him both a patriot and a zealot.

But Bach isn’t even the central figure in the series. Rather, Dark Skies focuses on two idealistic young college graduates who have come to serve in the Kennedy Administration in Washington D.C. during the Age of Camelot: John Loengard (Eric Close) and Kim Sayers (Megan Ward).

These youngsters arrive in DC full of hope and can-do optimism, planning to make their mark on the planet...and the future. They learn in short order of secret conspiracies and corruption, both alien and human. Their discovery -- their unwitting ‘awakening’ from dreamy Camelot -- echoes a very real disillusionment and disappointment that grew up in youthful America after the Kennedy assassination and led to the Vietnam War Era. Dreams die hard.

Over the course of the series, John and Kim travel across these great United States attempting to stop the grand alien invasion plan, and occasionally curb Bach’s worst civil-liberty-crushing excesses. Various Dark Skies episodes involve the Kennedy Assassination, The Warren Commission and even the Watts riot.

On their travels, John and Kim encounter famous historical figures such as Howard Hughes (“Dreamland”), Gerald Ford (“The Warren Omission”), The Beatles (“Dark Day’s Night”) Timothy Leary (“Bloodlines”) and even alien abductees Barney and Betty Hill (“The Awakening.”)

Dark Skies producer James Parriott described the series with this phrase: “Our future’s happening in our past.” I enjoyed that idea very much, and felt that the period-piece aspect of the series successfully differentiated Dark Skies from The X-Files. Also, Dark Skies featured a continuing enemy: the alien hive. The X-Files (beautifully) alternated between aliens, genetic freaks, serial killers and other antagonists. So I don’t necessarily view Dark Skies as a direct copy except in the most superficial matters. For instance, John and Kim “investigate” cases together like Mulder and Scully, and there’s an overriding conspiracy. If you want to talk about a real series with gall, and one that's a by-the-numbers clone of X-Files, just check out this year's Fringe.

One other notable difference: Dark Skies never evidenced the sense of humor that The X-Files so intelligently cultivated. All in all, It was a rather…dour program.

Dark Skies also underwent an unnecessary cast shift about half-way through the run of twenty episodes. A pre-Seven-of-Nine Jeri Ryan joined the cast as Juliet Stuart -- a no-nonsense but very sexy Majestic agent -- starting in the episode "The Warren Omission." Abducted by the Hive, Kim Sayers' just....disappeared. The character was all-but-abandoned for the remainder of the program's run. She returned briefly as an alien agent, but the shift never quite felt right. The casting change simply smacked of desperation: the shuffling of deck chairs on the Titanic. Especially since there was incipient sexual tension between Loengard and Juliet. That facet of their relationship felt highly inappropriate, given the tragedy that had occurred to Kim, the love of Loengard's life.

Still, there's much to appreciate in Dark Skies. The idea that the sixties were so turbulent because of the Hive is one that's fun to speculate about. And also, there's a good subtext here that these alien invaders are communists. "We have no color. We have no conflict," one alien tells Loengard in an episode set in Mississippi at the height of the Civil Rights Movement. Also, the production values of Dark Skies are absolutely top-notch, and the series features the occasional harrowing horror scene (like the forced expulsion of an alien "ganglion" from a human being, during the pilot.)

Dark Skies was extremely popular in Europe in the nineties, and it developed a small but dedicated cult following here in the States. The final episode of the series, "Bloodlines" featured a voice over narration from an elderly Leongard informing viewers that the alien menace had finally been beaten. It was a stopgap measure to be certain, a stop-gap attempt to bring some closure to a series destined never to return. But still, you can't help but feel watching Dark Skies that there was a lot of life left in the premise, even with the wrong-headed cast changes. After all, we haven't run out of interesting American history yet, have we?

Hopefully, a Dark Skies series DVD is forthcoming soon...

CULT TV-MOVIE REVIEW: The UFO Incident (1975)

The unsettling and inexplicable experience of Barney and Betty Hill -- of alien abduction -- was recounted meticulously in John Fuller's best-selling book, The Interrupted Journey. The same tale was also memorably adapted for American TV screens in October of 1975 by writer Hesper Anderson and frequent TV-movie director Richard Colla.

The film's title was changed to The UFO Incident, and actors James Earl Jones and Estelle Parsons were cast in the lead roles. The late Barnard Hughes co-starred as the couple's stolid psychiatrist, Dr. Simon.

The UFO Incident commences a few years after the alleged alien abduction, as a troubled Barney and Betty Hill, an interracial couple living in New England, feel a strange compulsion to re-trace their steps from the night of September 19, 1961, the nights their lives were forever altered. There are gaps in their memories that they can't explain, and this fact vexes them both.

Since September '61, The Hills have driven the same stretch of New Hampshire road eight or nine times, but on this particular occasion (an event translated directly from Fuller's book...), something unexpected occurs. The presence of a group of men on the side of the rural highway causes a usually calm Betty to fly into a spasm of hysteria and panic. We see an alarming quick cut -- as she screams in terror -- of a gloved, grey hand reaching into the car...as if to grab her.

Meanwhile, Barney is still reluctant to face the possibility that he and his wife encountered a UFO at all. He is insecure living in an all-white community with Betty and fears ridicule and isolation should the story of flying saucers come to light. "Your dreams are your dreams," he tells Betty, "and reality is reality." Later, Barney angrily acknowledges "I know it happened...but I can't get myself to believe it."

The couple goes to see Dr. Simon, a psychiatrist, to aid in resolving their "anxiety problems" and "double amnesia." But what the Hills ultimately reveal in long, detailed hypnosis sessions is something extremely terrifying: a close encounter with the crew of an alien spaceship. Aliens stopped their car by moonlight, and escorted the alarmed humans aboard their flying saucer. There, these curious, inhuman creatures conducted a variety of invasive medical exams, including a pregnancy test, before sending the Hills -- with wiped memories -- on their way home.

Over time, Dr. Simon helps the Hills contextualize and accept the events of September 1961, even if it can't be fully or even adequately explained. The cloud of anxiety lifts (especially for Barney...), and some sense of normalcy returns to the Hills, despite the oddness of this weird event in their history.

The UFO Incident inter-cuts a series of tension-provoking hypnosis sessions with more routine views of Barney and Betty's domestic life, to good effect. James Earl Jones and Estelle Parsons share a number of sweet, well-written scenes together at the Hill residence, strongly registering as likable, "real" people under unusual duress. These relationship scenes purposefully contrast in tone with the horrific recitation of the fascinating, you-can't-look-away abduction details.

For the most part, the hypnoses scenes in The UFO Incident admirably eschew spectacle for intimacy. Colla's camera remains pinned to Jones' expressive face in intense, sustained close-up photography. Barney grows ever more disturbed during his account of the alien encounter, and the performance is stunning. Watching Jones "live through" Barney's experience, you are absolutely riveted. And when Jones breaks the carefully-staged close-up composition, suddenly lunging from frame "trying to escape," you'll feel your adrenalin kick in. This is scary, scary stuff.

There are also occasional cuts to flashbacks during the hypnosis session; to Barney worriedly studying the night sky, clutching his binoculars, for instance. Intermittently, the audience can make out a light shining down on forest trees, but other than that, we never actually see the UFO in flight. This is an effective technique simply because we seem to be remembering "fragments" of the experience at the same time Barney or Betty does.

The medical examination scene aboard the alien space craft is vetted with similar tact and dramatic flair. Colla's camera cuts to a variety of insert shots: close-ups of alien surgical tools and other instrumentation, for example. When these shots begin to flash by, faster and faster, we feel as though we are being overcome by a flurry of images, literally overtaken by the experience.

The UFO Incident's most chilling image, however, arises during Betty's hypnosis session. She describes (again, in committed close-up), a group of "men" appearing ahead of the car; coming out of the forest and slowly nearing. Here, the film flashes back to a sort of wooded glade, and at first we don't see anything distinct. Then, appearing in shadow -- in the blurry, darkened distance at first -- black-garbed creatures loom, eventually coming into plain sight. Again, it's very chilling.

Colla and Anderson rigorously and faithfully follow the events and experiences in Fuller's written account, a fact which makes this TV movie an unusual artifact in a medium that prefers to tart things up. But, The UFO Incident isn't exactly a documentary, either. Instead, the film seeks and ultimately locates the core of the Hill drama: the manner in which the encounter with the aliens plays into Barney and Betty's already-existing fears.

For instance, Barney is a pragmatist, afraid of that which is real, meaning racial prejudice, intolerance and hatred. He's also grappling with another very real fear -- his health. The men in Barney's family all died young from strokes and he fears the same fate. For Barney, acknowledging that the UFO experience is actually real, proves a traumatic and difficult thing. If it's real, then he has to deal with it the same way he has to deal with bigotry or his illness.

Coming from a more privileged background, all of Betty's fears are based not in the real, but in the unknown. She's not alone; but she fears being alone (of losing Barney). She fears the "unknown" of death too. For her, the UFO experience means countenancing and accepting the unknown in her life.

The UFO Incident could have easily proven a really lurid, sensational bit of business. However, the steadfast focus on character, on performance, and on effective camera-work renders the movie not merely respectable, but actually admirable. The movie could have been an over-the-top geek show, but The UFO Incident understands it doesn't need to embellish, enhance or "stylize" the story of Barney and Betty Hill to render it attention-grabbing and suspenseful.

On the contrary, all the drama -- all the anxiety -- we can handle is abundantly present. In close-up. In the expressive, human faces of Jones and Parsons.

BOOK REVIEW: The Interrupted Journey

This riveting forty-year old account of the Barney and Betty Hill Abduction is a cause celebre in UFO literature and lore. The story, told expertly by journalist John G. Fuller, has also become fodder for TV movies such as The UFO Incident (1975) and fictionalized hour-long dramas such as Dark Skies (1996-1997).

The Interrupted Journey recounts (in meticulous detail) the events of the evening of September 19, 1961, a span when an unassuming interracial couple -- the Hills -- saw their weekend drive in New England interrupted by a...flying saucer.

A UFO not only shadowed these unlucky sojourners for a time, but aliens actually took the humans aboard their craft, the Hills alleged. There, a slew of medical exams were conducted before the couple's release.

After this event, as Fuller recounts, the Hills returned to their home and their jobs. Life went on, but they both felt mysteriously unsettled, with significant gaps in their memories. Betty experienced nightmares for a time. Barney saw a flare-up of his ulcer.

Soon, Betty began to remember bits and pieces of the unnerving experience, even as Barney resisted the idea of aliens and flying saucers all together, fearing that friends and family would find his story ludicrous. But slowly and surely, the couple began to come to terms with the bizarre, inexplicable events of that night.

The Hills were aided in this endeavor by a reputable, rock-solid psychiatrist, Dr. Benjamin Simon, who utilized hypnosis to excavate the Hills' buried (or blocked?) memories of the close encounter on September 19th 1961.

Their stories -- told separately in marathon individual sessions -- matched one another's very closely. Husband and wife both spoke of an alien visitation that featured missing time (a span erased by the aliens...), medical exams (including a painful pregnancy test for Betty...) and so on.

These thorough hypnosis sessions -- which often read as decisive, even prosecutorial cross-examinations -- are featured in The Interrupted Journey in the form of transcripts. These word-for-word accounts make for absorbing, provocative and even anxiety-provoking reading.

Fuller does well with the remainder of the text too, his prose devoid of unnecessary or distracting drama, hysteria, or silliness. In fact, Fuller downplays everything in a just-the-facts writing-style that disarms the inner skeptic and generates a fair bit of, well, uneasiness. The idea of alien visitation is rendered entirely believable here...and palpable.

Ultimately, we come to judge this oddly disturbing story on a human basis, a personal basis. The Hills don't seem like craven attention-seekers (on the contrary actually...). They waited for years to come forward in the public square to tell their version of the story, and then only after an unscrupulous journalist published their story without permission or input.

In The Interrupted Journey, when Barney first sees the alien leader's inhuman black eyes glaring down at him (pressing telepathically into his skull), the reader shares Barney's sense of primal terror; mainly because Fuller's sketched the man in such realistic, human fashion.

The Interrupted Journey is a remarkable work of literature, and I recommend the book as such. Just don't take it at face value or as a priori, Gospel Truth. On the (admittedly-limited) basis of literature, however, The Interrupted Journey is entirely successful. You sympathize with the characters; you're caught up in the drama, and the book evokes a strange feeling that somehow, some way, you're being watched while you turn the pages. It's not good material to read while you're alone in the house. Or after dark. The book makes you feel paranoid; like you're under a microscope.

Yet the inner skeptic in me still had some questions and concerns about the veracity of the Hill tale. Let me play devil's advocate for a bit, if you don't mind.

To start with during her encounter with the aliens, Betty is offered an extra-terrestrial book as proof of the aliens' existence. The aliens ultimately take the book back, however, conveniently defying Betty any hard evidence of the encounter.

But my problem is with the idea of the alien book itself. We're nowhere near the advent of interstellar flight, but in a few short years, print books will go the way of the dodo on Earth, totally extinct; relics. Would aliens capable of interstellar flight and mind-bending amnesia tricks still carry around books on their space ship (where space and weight would presumably be at a premium....)? Wouldn't they at least have Kindle?

Secondly, there's the alien confusion about "time." To The Interrupted Journey's credit, the book openly and fairly acknowledges this paradox. Specifically, the aliens tell Betty to "wait a minute" at one point but later, during her exam, confess no knowledge and/or understanding of time or even of the passage of time. For instance, concepts such as "years" and "old age" are beyond the Saucerites. If the aliens could translate thought well-enough to use the phrase "wait a minute," why couldn't the same technique bring them an understanding of time?

Thirdly, the physical description of the flying saucer -- Barney and Betty's mutual description -- feels uncomfortably like a 1960s phantasm of "future" technology. Barney sees (through his binoculars...) a group of aliens standing at a large black control panel. Again, in the decades since this book's publication, we've seen the revolution of miniaturization, not to mention the development of touch screen consoles. And if CNN Election Night Coverage is to be believed, we even now deploy holographic technology on a routine basis.

So why would aliens from a futuristic society (a society advanced enough to possess interstellar flight...) rely on old-fashioned, bulky, non-touch screen computer panels? More to the point, perhaps, why would four-foot tall aliens have laboratory bays with human-sized examination tables.

When Barney first detects the aliens (as reported in a startling hypnosis session) he briefly mistakes the uniformed extra-terrestrials for Nazis. In another portion of the book, he admits that he has a deep-seated affinity for the people of Israel. He identifies with them deeply, apparently fearing a similar form of persecution (as a black man married to a white woman in 1960s America). Given his initial description of the aliens as "Nazis" -- in tandem with this self-acknowledged psychological affinity for Israelis -- the intrepid reader may begin to suspect that this alien encounter could, in fact, be an hallucination, a folie-a-deux...an event entirely psychological and not what we would consider "real."

Also, there are a few notable difference in Betty and Barney's story that do bear a casual mention. Betty initially claims that the aliens possess "Jimmy Durante"-type noses. By contrast, Barney says that the aliens have no noses...only recessed nasal slits. I'd be willing to chalk this up to the fog of abduction, but it's a discrepancy nonetheless.

Finally, Betty admits that she and Barney do have some at least sub-conscious awareness of the burgeoning sci-fi pop-culture of the 1960s. In particular, she mentions The Twilight Zone by name during one of her hypnosis sessions. And then there's this little factoid, straight from Wikipedia:

"Entirely Unpredisposed author Martin Kottmeyer suggested that Barney's memories revealed under hypnosis might have been influenced by an episode of the science fiction television show The Outer Limits titled "The Bellero Shield", which was broadcast about two weeks before Barney's first hypnotic session. The episode featured an extraterrestrial with large eyes..."

But listen, I'm no debunker. I have no interest in that job assignment. In terms of UFOs, let's just say......I want to believe. I really do. More than that, I'm inclined to believe. But to protect myself, I also set a pretty high bar for that belief. Disappointment can be a bitch.

My feeling on the subject of UFOs has always been that, given the size of the universe, it seems entirely plausible that alien civilizations might indeed exist....somewhere.

It is also entirely plausible to me that some life forms "out there" would be sufficiently advanced for interstellar travel. There's a caveat, however. Space traveling requires considerable resources, not to mention a a tremendous amount of energy, and it seems to me you would only travel some place far away (like Earth...) for a matter of great import.

Which leaves me to consider four options in regards to the Hills. One: the abduction happened in exactly the way the couple described, and I'm incredibly wrong in whatever skepticism I harbor. I sure hope that's the case.

Or Two: the abduction happened all right, but it was a top secret government or military experiment (god, I love a good conspiracy theory...). Probably one involving mind-altering drugs.

Or Three: the abduction occurred, but the voyagers aboard the UFO were not aliens; rather evolved, time-traveling humans from a distant future (!). Okay, so that's far-fetched...

Or, lastly, the Hills (now both deceased, unfortunately...) experienced something traumatic but entirely human on September 19, 1961; something that they didn't understand, and that their minds couldn't adequately process, That mystery accounts for the story of The Interrupted Journey.

Again, I want to believe. And while reading this book -- for a time -- I did believe. Betty and Barney Hill seem like good people, caught up in a terrible mystery. I don't know that you could ask for better, more credible eye-witnesses. But in the end, one couple's word -- even word of honor -- is simply not good enough. Not to sway me, anyway.

I wish desperately that the Hill Abduction could be proven conclusively; that The Interrupted Journey could be respected as something more than a fine, remarkably frightening campfire tale.

Perhaps one day it will be. But for now, if I have to go on the record about this book, it's just one hell of a good read.