Happy Birthday to Joel!

My son, Joel, is one year old today (at exactly 5:18 pm). He is the apple of my eye, and the sweetest child imaginable. I know the blog isn't the place to write lots of personal or family stuff, but Joel has absolutely changed my entire world in the last twelve months; in a variety of amazing ways. He is a jolly baby with an infectious giggle and the trademark tenacity that my wife says marks him as a Muir. He's already run rampant through my office, playing with Qui-Gonn Jinn's light saber, driving the Star Wars van I displayed here a bit ago into a wall, and - this is the cardinal sin - getting his hands on my Space:1999 Mattel 3ft eagle! I got to him as fast as I could, but in no time flat, Joel had disassembled the main engine machinery. No harm done - it's meant to be taken apart.

Since Joel has come into my life, I know without fail that I will have several minutes (if not hours...) of unfettered joy and laughter every single day. Joel and I often sit together and read a talking Star Wars book (from Golden Books). Already, he knows to press the button that shoots the TIE fighters, and the one that sends the Millennium Falcon into hyper drive. Best of all, the other day he looked at my cardboard stand-up of Captain James T. Kirk from Star Trek V and said - to my delight - "Da Da!"

CULT TV FLASHBACK # 34: V:The Series - "Liberation Day"

"It can't happen here." That isn't merely the title of the satirical novel written by Sinclair Lewis in 1935, it is the very premise of Kenneth Johnson's excellent 1983 mini-series, V. The story involved alien beings called "Visitors" arriving in force on Earth, ostensibly to offer the hand of friendship.

In their spiffy red uniforms (replete with swastika-style insignias), these brothers from Sirius (actually bipedal reptiles...) promised to cure cancer, end hunger, and improve the technology of the human race. Their real agenda, however, was the takeover of the planet so that they could begin using humans as cannon fodder in their Leader's "great war" on another planet. Oh, and those humans who didn't get to die in battle would be eaten. And did I mention that the Visitors were here to steal our water supply too?

The most fascinating element of V was this powerful underlying notion of a fascist takeover of America; of the way a cowed American populace would willingly (and enthusiastically) surrender its liberties and civil rights because of "fear" and the need for "security." This is precisely what Sinclair Lewis warned against in his book, a misled (but patriotic!) populace blindly following a fascist regime and leader (one who was a far right evangelical...).

To wit, the Visitors didn't come right out and dominate the planet with force; at least not initially. No, instead the Visitors carefully created a national scapegoat - scientists, and then cast those men and women of science as "terrorists" for their beliefs.The Visitors claimed to have uncovered a conspiracy of "scientists" and before long, an enraged American citizenry was railing against those rotten scientists who wanted to ruin everything when gosh darn, those nice Visitors were just trying to help. The Visitors picked scientists because it was scientists who would first detect the "holes" and "gaps" in Visitor reasoning, and possibly expose them.

Clearly, this was a metaphor for the Nazi takeover of Germany before World War II, with scientists substituted for "Jews" as the scapegoat of a population at large. With this initial premise set, V depicted in very compelling terms how various individual Americans would react to a fascist takeover of ship and state. Some people became collaborators (especially people in big business, young picked-on kids, and more than a few voices in the media...); and some people chose to resist, at the risk of losing everything. The original miniseries managed in a breakneck four hours to comment on fascism in America, but also issues such as illegal immigration (it was a Mexican worker, in one instance, who smuggled a family of scientists past a Visitor checkpoint...), outsourcing (the Visitors were taking blue collar jobs...) and the mob mentality. Some of the miniseries' best commentary involved the ways the Visitors deliberately manipulated people with their colorful propaganda; and the series featured terrific poster art of grinning, blond Visitors (read: Nazis) helping the elderly, carrying young kids on their shoulders and extending the hand of friendship, while legends read "THE VISITORS ARE YOUR FRIENDS." Anyone who disagreed with the Visitor agenda was "disappeared" or "converted" in a torturous mind-control procedure.

For those who watched in 1983, V was the next big thing in televised sci-fi, the kind of "event" miniseries that the genre had not seen before. The mini-series was so special an initiative because great care was taken with characterization, plotting, special effects (including a night-time spaceship landing on the roof of the United Nations building), and the clever, meaningful subtext.

The mini-series boasted a good sense of humor too, particularly in a moment that found a red-state high school marching band playing the theme to Star Wars during the arrival of the first Visitor ship at a local chemical plant.

Also, the mini-series was authentically shocking. A genuine water-cooler moment - a cultural touchstone - occurred in the first installment. About half-way through the show, Mike Donovan (Marc Singer), a news crew cameraman, captured on camera the surprising and grotesque dining habits of the Visitors. In ground-breaking (but now dated) special effects, the audience saw a Visitor's jaw literally extend and distend as the alien swallowed whole a squirming, wriggling, very-much-alive guinea pig. Prolonging the terror of the moment, we saw the pig's bulk slowly sliding down the Visitor's throat...going all the way down the esophagus. This was the most freaktastic thing anyone had seen on TV up till that time, and it was the talk of the nation for at least a day or two.

V drew high ratings, which necessitated a sequel that wasn't quite as good (V: The Final Battle), and which substituted dime-store mysticism and elaborately-staged action scenes for much of Johnson's elegant and trenchant social commentary. It too was a blockbuster in the ratings, and NBC promptly ordered a regular series.

Sadly, the series was another step down in quality. The overall story became a soap opera (the series had to compete against Dallas on CBS) and V: The Series soon started to rely on tongue-in-cheek humor to an uncomfortable degree. The budget was drastically reduced too, until the human resistance seemed to consist of about three or four people and a Ford van. Still, the series was extraordinarily entertaining and added some great elements to the mythos, including a fantastic competitor for Diana, Lydia (June Chadwick of This is Spinal Tap fame...) and the biggest wedding in sci-fi TV history: that of Visitors Charles and Diana (nudge, nudge). Another episode airing about half-way through the run killed off several members of the supporting cast in a vicious but brave way, and the series ended with an edge-of-your seat cliffhanger that has never been resolved. The series is a nostalgic blast, but watching the episodes today one can see how the entire franchise was hamstrung by budgetary inadequacies and repetitive narratives. Still, that original miniseries is a genre high point.

Which brings us to "Liberation Day" by Paul Monash, the regular series premiere. V: The Final Battle had sent the alien visitors packing with the creation of a substance fatal to the Visitors, the "Red Dust" (which I always found an ironic moniker: red being the color of communism; and communism being the "antidote" some would claim, to fascism). At the end of the mini-series, the Visitors were either dead (from the Red Dust) or had escaped the planet in their giant motherships. In the last moments of V: The Final Battle, the gorgeous but evil leader of the Visitors, Diana (Jane Badler) pulled a Darth Vader and escaped from the resistance in her TIE fighter...I mean sky fighter.

So "Liberation Day" picks up with Marc Singer's character Mike Donovan going off in pursuit of the reptilian space fascist. After establishing that "she's getting away," there's an aerial dogfight over Southern California which recycles much of the battle footage from the two mini-series. Donovan shoots Diana's spaceship down, and the two adversaries then run around and tussle in the dirt. My wife Kathryn asked me at this point in the episode, why the armed Mike Donovan had not simply shot at the fleeing Diana, instead of chasing her on foot and tackling her. My point: I would have tackled and wrestled her too. Diana may be a space lizard, but she's really, really hot. She makes fascism sexy (which in a weird and effective way, really buttresses the series' main theme: that there is something seductive and appealing - one dares say "Aryan" - about this kind of evil: a gorgeous surface literally masks a dark evil; a human exterior hides a reptile brain).

Flash forward to a year later; the one year anniversary of Liberation Day, to be precise. Diana's mothership is in the hands of the American government, but the corporation Science Frontiers, run by Nathan Bates, has experienced a difficult time breaking Diana's security code and unlocking the secrets of the vast ship. Working on the project is former resistance leader Juliet Parrish (Faye Grant). Mike Donovan is jealous of Julie's friendship with Bates, and worried about his son, Sean, a boy who was "converted" (brainwashed...) by the Visitors in V: The Final Battle.

While Diana awaits trial in government custody, Elizabeth, the Visitor/human hybrid known as "The Star Child" begins to undergo metabolic change. In one scene, a news helicopter approaches Elizabeth and she uses her considerable mental powers to swat it away.

On the day of Diana's trial, Nathan Bates' arranges for the Visitor leader to be shot (courtesy of gun-for-hire, Ham Tyler [Michael Ironside]). Then a switcheroo gets pulled, and Diana is taken to Bates, where he makes a devil's bargain with her. He will provide her with the antidote to the Red Dust so she can survive, but in return she must provide a vaccine for cancer, create a pollution-free fuel, and render Earth crops pest-resistant. As Diana says, she's supposed to cure the ills of the world; but Bates points out rightly that she is already responsible for attempted genocide, not to mention cannibalism. To which she replies, "That's a matter of taste."

By episode's end, Diana has escaped from custody, murdered Mike's Visitor friend, Martin (Frank Ashmore), and reached the Southwestern Tracking Station, where she sends a signal for the Visitors to rescue her. The Visitors send a ship, and before Diana leaves the planet, she learns that the Red Dust has dissipated...and is no longer fatal to the aliens. The episode culminates with a great shot: a beautifully-composed, ominous (and cosmic...) pull back from Earth orbit, past the cratered surface of the moon itself, to a fleet of Visitor warships, just waiting to attack. The words "TO BE CONTINUED" appear on screen.

"Liberation Day" breaks with some aspects of V canon. For instance, in the miniseries all the Visitors spoke with a strange "reverb" in their voices. They no longer do so by "Liberation Day." Also, there's no mention here of the fact that the Visitors are stealing water; that item seems to have been dropped from their agenda and "to do" list.

Besides such discontinuities, "Liberation Day" bears both the strengths and weaknesses of the series as a whole. It picks up on the idea of corporations attempting to take control of assets like Diana and her mothership for profit. Nathan Bates has a real "racket" going, as Martin calls it: he developed the Red Dust that kills Visitors and then sells them the antidote pill. Also, Bates wants Diana alive so he can profit from the cancer vaccine and other advances. He says he wants human beings to profit from the alien invasion, but it is clear he'd rather just line his own pockets. Unregulated, unwatched capitalism and fascism go hand in hand, lest we forget.

The series also gives some small nod to the themes of the mini-series, particularly the "It Can't Happen Here" aesthetic. At one point, Martin (an alien) is confused that Diana is even being given a trial in the first place. On his planet, he says, "justice is swift" (which sounds like a Bushian sound-byte). Mike Donovan's reply is a championing of traditional (and now lost...) American values: "this is a democratic society. Everyone is innocent until proven guilty." That's a quaint notion (like those pesky Geneva Conventions...) that doesn't get heard much in this "War of Terror" age we now live in.

The best scene in the premiere involves the attempted assassination of Diana. The camera work is all hand-held (as if we are watching news reel footage...) when Diana - in shackles - is escorted through a crowd of protesters (carrying signs that read "Death to Diana!") and then abruptly shot by the unseen assassin. Pandemonium breaks out, and the cinema-verite feel of the scene evokes footage we saw of Jack Ruby shooting Lee Harvey Oswald. Even here, in V's least satisfying form (episodic television), one can see that the creators are very aware of the symbolism they are crafting.

The other thing that becomes clear about V: The Series with this initial installment is that it is going to be a very, very kinky show. The Visitors eat human beings whole, and "eating" undeniably suggests a sexual connotation or component when you're talking about eating people. You'd think that a network broadcast series would shy away from that rather naughty interpretation, but the opposite is actually true. The program eventually goes whole hog in this very perverse direction. In this episode, for instance, an escaped Diana is picked up by a redneck hitchhiker in a pick-up truck. He reminds her of the Golden Rule, that he's done something nice for her and so she should do something nice for him. Well, Badler's Diana eyes up the fat cowboy lasciviously (like she's looking at a frigging menu...) and then embraces him. We cut to an exterior high angle of the pick-up truck as it begins to shake, and the cowboy's moans of pleasure quickly transform to screams of horror and pain. Implicit here is that this is an act of fellatio that ends with a new definition of "swallow." By the final episodes of the series, V had gone crazy with this kind of stuff. I remember one episode in particular, and a scene in Diana's bedroom. She orders up for supper two half-naked body-builders, all greased down for the easy devouring.

V: The Series lasted for just nineteen hour-long episodes, and every few years there are rumors of a revival or a continuation. Now would be the perfect time, if you ask me. America has drifted closer to fascism in the past seven years than I would have ever thought possible. Since Bush took office, we've seen government-authorized propaganda ("this is Karen Ryan reporting..."), the war on science (in the suppression of NASA environmental reports and even on Barbara Walter's The View...where the world is apparently flat), the scapegoating of Democrats as unpatriotic (vote for John Kerry and die in a mushroom cloud!!!), not to mention corporations brazenly profiteering off human misery (Blackwater, Halliburton, Enron, Worldcom), plus state-sanctioned torture, and the endless incarceration of people without charges ever being brought. When V was created, it was during another conservative administration (Reagan's) and it served as a parable about how all those terrible things could indeed happen here with just a little push in one direction (a push like, say, 9/11). But it was still science fiction, a leftist fantasy (and warning) about creeping fascism. Today, it really has happened here. Ann Coulter is a Visitor. At the very least, she's reptilian.

CULT TV FLASHBACK # 33: Kolchak, The Night Stalker: "The Zombie"

All I can say is, they don't make 'em like they used to. This is my favorite episode of the 1974-1975 series, Kolchak, The Night Stalker. "The Zombie," written by David Chase and Zekial Marko and directed by Alex Grasshoff, aired more than thirty-three years ago, on September 20, 1974. Shot mostly in dark hues of impenetrable night (by cinematographer Alric Edens), this remains a pretty terrifying installment of the classic seventies series, especially during the climax.

Kolchak: The Night Stalker stars Darren McGavin as quirky Carl Kolchak, an irrepressible reporter at the seedy little INS (Independent News Service) in Chicago. There, he gulps coffee by the gallon and investigates all the city big-wigs, often clashing with his editor and friend, the long-suffering Tony Vincenzo (the late, great Simon Oakland). Kolchak's cases, however, all end up with an unusual and inevitably terrifying bent. Public or government malfeasance often leads to direct evidence of...the supernatural.

Lest we forget it, Kolchak, The Night Stalker aired in the era of "hero" journalists like Woodward and Bernstein, right after the Watergate Scandal. Embedded in the series' DNA is the then-popular belief that one man can fight City Hall; that one man can make a difference. In the series, Kolchak is always battling corrupt cops or politicians and trying (and often failing...) to get the truth out to the people. This was before the age of a corporate news business and compliant "talking points" media. Kolchak - for all his failures as a human being - is a sterling journalist and a paragon of virtue in the sense that he always follows a story...no matter where it takes him.

"The Zombie" reveals this "man against City Hall" aesthetic in spades. While investigating a gangland "syndicate" killing, Kolchak begins to suspect that a Mamalois, a voodoo priestess, has activated a zombie to kill the mobsters who put out a hit on her grandson, Haitian Francois Edmonds. Kolchak works every angle of the case, which allows him to consult the series' colorful recurring cast members, like John Fiedler's on-the-take "Gordy the Ghoul," an enthusiastic informant who works in City Morgue. The case also puts Kolchak in direct opposition with police captain Leo Winwood (Charles Aidman), who has a dark involvement with the mob case. In voice-over, Kolchak describes his relationship with Winwood as "long and bloody; like the Crusades...only without the chivalry."

One of the episode's best moment involves Kolchak putting Captain Winwood on the spot while he conducts an official press briefing (a ritual Kolchak derides as "a foolish game.") The Helen Thomas or Sam Donaldson of his day, Kolchak pummels the evasive Winwood with facts until the dishonest police captain threatens to have him expelled. Why our White House Press couldn't push Tony Snow or Ari Fleischer this way is beyond me.

Another aspect of the episode involves Kolchak tangling with Monique Marmelstein, the new partner Vincenzo has assigned him. Monique is a pudgy, annoying presence who got her job at INS through what she calls "nespotism" (but she means nepotism.) Just as the Winwood character is found to be corrupt; so does Kolchak here find corruption in his INS office. It turns out Monique's uncle is a powerful figure in local politics, so Vincenzo has no choice but to accommodate her on his staff. At a police shoot-out, however, Kolchak finds an inventive way to keep Monique out of his way: the always loquacious Kolchak jaw-bones Monique into hiding in the trunk of his car; and then locks her in. Not very nice. But undeniably effective.

The political undercurrents of Kolchak and the pervasive context of Watergate are always fascinating elements of the series, but as a horror fan I love "The Zombie" for its spine-tingling denouement. Convinced that a zombie is being resurrected nightly for revenge killings, Kolchak researches the ways to kill it. He discovers that zombies often rest in the "places of the dead" (mortuaries, graveyards, etc.) and that to kill one he must pour salt into the mouth, and then use needle and thread to sew the lips "very tightly" together. However, that mode of execution only works if the zombie is dormant. If awake, the undead can be killed by strangulation. But ever try strangling a zombie before?

Kolchak finds his living-dead quarry at an unconventional "place of the dead," an auto junkyard (where cars go to die...). In particular, Kolchak happens across the zombie in a wrecked funeral hearse. We watch with mounting suspense as Kolchak crawls in through the back of the hearse and methodically pours salt into the zombie's mouth. He slowly takes out the needle and is about to begin sewing the lips shut when...

...the zombie's eyes open and Kolchak - terrified - shrieks like a little girl and hightails it out of the hearse. I have to admit, this is one of the things I absolutely love about this character. So often in horror movies and television lately, characters face extreme situations (like vampires, zombies and werewolves) with a bit too much composure and acceptance for my taste. In keeping with Kolchak's 1970s-vibe and "everyman" nature, the character is foolhardy, but when faced with a monster, pretty damn terrified. I'm reminded (unfortunately) of the recent Bionic Woman pilot episode, wherein Jaime Summers takes in stride the fact that she is trading martial arts fisticuffs with a psychotic superwoman. In fact, she starts trading quips with the evil bionic chick almost immediately. And she's supposed to be a 23-year old bartender!! A little fear; a little anxiety; a little surprise would have been appropriate and would have given the scene the sense of verisimilitude it lacked. I like the Kolchak solution better. Upon seeing the zombie awake, Kolchak turns tail and runs like hell. "Suspension of disbelief" is important in horror and science fiction, and if the characters don't respond in a truthful manner to the strange events around them, I found suspension of disbelief is lost. For me, anyway. A lot of movies and TV shows today can't be bothered to actually generate suspense or have characters react in a realistic way (Supernatural, j'accuse!)

So Kolchak turns tail and runs through the junkyard, the white-eyed zombie hot on his heels. With a degree of ingenuity and on the fly, Kolchak manages to trick the lunging zombie into a noose, hence the necessary strangulation of the creature. But the point is that it all looks very unplanned, very spontaneous and therefore very human. Kolchak: The Night Stalker did things in this fashion all the time, and the audience found itself rooting for the little guy not just as he battled City Hall, but as he battled terrifying monsters too (or more appropriately, a different kind of monster than he found ensconced in the hallways of power). Of course, the very nature of episodic television assures that the protagonist survives his or her travails week-to-week, but the very fallible nature of this particular protagonist actually makes the viewer forget such convention and hold on tight to that critical suspension of disbelief. Carl has heart, but he's hapless and - like most of us - not exactly courageous in the face of the unknown. That's why I love the guy; he's us.

With its roving night-time camera, hand-held moments promoting immediacy, staccato character banter, sharp writing and unforgettably individual protagonist, Kolchak: The Night Stalker is really a shining jewel in genre television's crown. It's a one-of-a-kind production, and "The Zombie" reveals why. It moves effortlessly from comedy to social commentary to monsters-on-the-loose with utter confidence, not to mention an overwhelming sense of charm and fun.

Bloggy-Type Business

Hey everybody,

I just enabled blog comment moderation - sigh - which is irritating and a waste of time as far as I'm concerned, but in the last week or so the blog has gotten blasted with an ever-increasing number of advertisements/spam disguised as comments. Medical marijuana, sexual enhancements, real estate sites..and other crap. I hate to see this sort of thing and it trashes up the blog.

So readers, please keep sending those comments: positive and negative. I intend to pass everything through as soon as I've seen it, except for the damn ads. I'm not interested in keeping anyone out of the discussion, just in blocking spam. (You can see some fresh spam on my first cult tv flashback, for "This Side of Paradise" -- you guessed it: marijuana; or a real estate come on in my Hostel review.).

Sorry to have to resort to this level of screening in a venue that works best as a dialogue, a give-and-take, but as the blog continues getting bigger and more popular (and thank you for visiting!!!) I don't think the spamming is going to stop. Alas, there's no mechanism on Blogger (that I know of...) for removing the spam comments once they are sent. This is the only way.

Thanks for understanding. Now feel free to complain...

Bantha Fodder: Er Dewback Fodder?

I'm often astonished when I look back at the toys from my youth and then at the toys of today's youth. For instance, when I was a kid, the superhero Aquaman (from The Super Friends!) was a stable, short-haired all-American (and rather Aryan...) looking-fellow; a blond version of Superman (down to the hair curl). Now, he's a one-eyed, hook-handed, mangy guy with a mane of long lion-like hair.

Exhibit B: Look at the 1977 Star Wars Bantha (from Kenner) versus the 1997 Bantha from Kenner. The 1977 Bantha (above) looks like a relatively placid and happy dinosaur, whereas the more recent Bantha (below) is snarling and appears downright mean!

What's the change? Well, I don't specifically think our culture is actually meaner now (though someone may want to debate me on that...), but I do believe sincerely that childhood is shorter than it was thirty years ago. We ask our kids to grow up a lot faster, I believe now, then we did then. Just go to a department store and check out the girl's clothing section and you'll see what I mean: she's asked to be a "hottie" by age five, which is not just ridiculous, but downright creepy. I have a little boy (Joel) about to turn one year old next Tuesday, and I want him to enjoy his childhood as long as possible without being affected by negative or adult images from the culture.

And like our ever-evolving American cinema - toys have become grittier and more realistic in the last three decades. We demand accuracy for our toys today, and of course, the design of the Bantha changed after the 1997 Star Wars special edition and the advent of CGI. Also, let's face it, anything with the name Star Wars on it now has two prospective buyers: a six-year old kid and the thirty-six year old (like me!). So a balance has to be struck between the kid market and the collector's market.

I'd rather Joel play with the 1970s Bantha when he's really little, and then work up to the more angry one when he's ten or so.

Blogger's Note: My friend Chris Johnson just pointed out to me that the creature (and toy) in question is a Dewback and not a Bantha. He has revoked my geek credentials!!!! Great, now I'm on probation...

TV REVIEW: Journeyman

I finally got around to watching the pilot of the NBC time-travel series, Journeyman and I have to say that it didn't suck. In fact, despite some problems here and there in terms of the nuts-and-bolts of time-hopping, it's the best of the three new network genre series I've watched this season (the other two being the dead-on-arrival Bionic Woman and the less-than-inspiring Moonlight). Still haven't watched Reaper. That's next, I guess.

Anyway, back to Journeyman. Created by Kevin Falls, this is the sci-fi story of a character named Dan Vassar (Rome's Lucius Vorenus, Kevin McKidd), a married reporter who works at the San Francisco Register and who boasts the network mandated cute kid (little Zack), gorgeous wife, Katie (Gretchen Egolf) and stunningly-perfect Victorian house on a hill. Vassar's brother, Jack (Reed Diamond) is a cop who once dated Dan's wife. Meanwhile, Dan still pines for an old girlfriend, Livia Beale (Day Break's Moon Bloodgood); the one that got away.

With very little preamble or fanfare, Dan suddenly begins to travel through time, taking a quantum leap of sorts back to the Reagan era of 1987. We know he's time-traveled because suddenly Dan's walking around in a world of oversized shoulder-pads, and Bryant Gumbel reports on the Today Show that the Robert Bork Supreme Court confirmation hearings are underway. During his sojourn, Vassar ends up saving a man named Neal Gaines from committing suicide, and then returns to the present (though the audience doesn't get to see how he does so...) and his co-workers, brother and wife Katie all think he's nuts. In fact, they think he's on drugs and stage an intervention for him.

Before long, Dan is hopping back in time regularly, and every journey seems intent on putting him right into the path of the same person: Neal Gaines. During one venture, Dan convinces Neal's girlfriend not to have an abortion. On his final journey, Dan provides the linchpin event leading up to Neal's death (in 1997...) just as the unhappy Neil was about to kill his wife and child. Dan comes to realize he has been traveling through time not for Neal, but for Neal's son, who would one day grow up to become a doctor...and a person who would save the life of half-a-dozen school kids following a bus accident. Complicating matters for Dan, he encounters his old girlfriend Livia during his frequent time tunnelings, but not just the Livia of the past. Nope: it turns out Vassar's ex-girlfriend is time traveling too. She instructs him not to mess anything up while he's in the past; only pay heed to his instincts. This aspect of the plot is clearly the most tantalizing. Why is Livia time-traveling? Did she pick Dan to travel too? Who is behind all this?

Although it is certainly easy to make jokes about Quantum Leap and Time Tunnel, Journeyman so far seems to most closely resemble a different sort of time travel series: the Eliza Dushku venture from a few years back, Tru Calling. On Tru, as you might or might not recall, our heroine (Dushku) could do a day over and over again and help somebody in dire need of assistance and who was destined to die on that very day. In the process of helping others, however, Tru's actions had a ripple effect on the present, not the least of which occurred in her own personal and professional life. That template very much seems to be the premise here: with Dan making a mess of the present to save lives in the past. Also, Tru had to worry about another day traveler (a villainous sort played by Jason Priestley); and we still don't know whether time-traveler Livia is here a friend or a foe.

Journeyman posits a most inconvenient sort of time travel. Apparently past and present just keep rolling along, no matter what. Which means that Dan suddenly gets scooped out of his car (while driving...) into the past of 1997. In the present, his car hits a pole and two other vehicles, but he's not driving - he's not even around! (He should have a bumper sticker: Gone Time Travelin'). Someone should also make a law against time travelers holding valid driver's licenses, I guess.

Based on this pilot, the primary strength of Journeyman is neither the warmed-over time travel premise, nor the particular details of those temporal excursions. Instead, Kevin McKidd holds the screen well as the troubled and confused lead, and he's given a genuine emotional crisis to deal with. Consider that on most TV shows of this nature, a man with a wife and child would be traveling back in time and trying desperately to get back to them, his beloved family. Well here, that married man still holds a candle for his long lost love, but if he changes anything about his romantic history, he risks losing the son, Zack, he has in the present of 2007. Talk about a difficult path. Would you risk losing your child for the one true love of your life? Which would you pick? I must admit, I haven't seen this particular dilemma played out on TV that frequently, and as long as Journeyman doesn't drop the notion, and doesn't make this an obvious, cheap or easy choice for Dan, the character fireworks might offer enough of a reason to return. Already, ratings are low, so Journeyman may not have much of a future.

But again, it's refreshing to watch a new sci-fi series that is neither loaded with familiar cliches (Moonlight) nor a re-imagination posing as a bad-ass, tough-talking CGI MoFo (Bionic Woman) while recycling the worst elements of the far-superior Dark Angel. Bottom line: I'll take this journey on NBC at least for a couple of episodes to see how things develop.

Comic Book Flashback # 8: Adventures on the Planet of the Apes: "World of Captive Humans" (1975)

Marvel Comics did a terrific job in the 1970s of expanding and developing the simian universe of the Planet of the Apes films. They not only published an outstanding black-and-white magazine (replete with articles about the making of the five feature films and television series), the company also released a color comic-book line adapting the films, "Adventures on the Planet of the Apes" (presented by the ubiquitous Stan Lee). 

I remember, I always purchased my copies at a huge comic-book booth inside a building at the Englishtown flea market in New Jersey. Those were great days to be a kid. 

In this particular issue, from November 1975, the first Apes feature, Planet of the Apes, is adapted in loving detail, with even a few embellishments. The story picks up here with Taylor (who looks nothing like Charlton Heston...) shot and unconscious after the cornfield hunt. He is dragged to a truck/cage, where he will make the journey to Ape City. One of the ape hunters claims to have heard the injured man speak, but his simian cohort warns him that "attributing intelligence to a human is a sin...a very serious one." 

Unlike the filmed version, we're also made privy to Taylor's thoughts on the long ride to the simian metropolis as he comes to. "This is insane," he muses during an interior monologue, "and I can't say a word about it. My throat's been ripped open. If I lose much more blood, I'll..." And then he collapses. How's that for some exposition? 

This issue follows Taylor to Ape City and the blood transfusion with lovely Nova, as well as his first encounter with kindly chimpanzee behavioralist, Dr. Zira. "World of Captive Humans" also introduces Dr. Zaius, probably my favorite character in the entire Apes saga, and Cornelius. The issue ends with Taylor's shocking note to Zira ("My Name is Taylor.")

I've kept quite a few of these ape comics for more than thirty years ago. I remember when I was in middle school, when I stayed home sick, I would drag all the comics out of my closet, order them sequentially, and read them oe after the other, from start to finish, reliving the movies.. 

TV REVIEW: Bionic Woman

As I was watching Bionic Woman the other night, I realized the inevitable had finally occurred. Before my very eyes, a dramatic TV series had achieved true feature film quality. Unfortunately, in the case of The Bionic Woman, that feature film would have been Catwoman, Elektra or Underworld. 

When my wife, Kathryn saw that this "re-imagination" was "developed" by the same "creative" team that perpetrated the new Battlestar Galactica, she turned to me and said, "wow, they really love raping old shows, don't they?" That comment just about sums up my response to the dreadful pilot of this remake, which substitutes the charm of the original 1976-1978 Lindsay Wagner series with tons of mock tough guy attitude and dialogue...all spouted by women, of course (because that's not sexist; merely unpleasant).

This is less accurately The Bionic Woman than The Bionic Gilmore Girl, as the new Jaime Sommers (Michelle Ryan) has been saddled with a young adolescent sister she is caring for, in a sibling relationship clearly derivative of the Buffy/Dawn aesthetic from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That isn't the only idea raided in this dreadful remake. There's a scene lifted directly from Superman: The Movie (1978), wherein a little girl in a jeep spies Jaime running at super speeds through the woods. In case you forgot, in Superman: The Movie, a little Lois Lane spied Clark running at super-speed over a field from her perch in the train. That was bad enough, but then the pilot had the nerve to crib the rooftop "learning your powers" scene from Sam Raimi's Spider-Man (2002). 

Well, at least this Bionic Woman understands the rule that if you're going to steal, you should steal from the best. Why create something new when you can rip-off something else, and say it's "homage," right?

Anyway, Jaime is injured in an assassination attempt by the first bionic woman, Sarah Corvis, played in over-the-top fashion by a twitching, winking Katee Sackhoff, but the real target was Jaime's professor boyfriend...who just happens to be a brilliant bionic scientist.  In short order, he has remade the injured Jaime into another bionic woman who, like her predecessor is hard-wired for "highly specialized warfare." In the remake, bionics means anthrocites (or nanites): microscopic robots capable of rebuilding and regenerating destroyed limbs and enhancing vision and hearing. Jaime takes the news of her upgrade poorly, which in this case means that the episode cuts to a soulful pop tune montage.

Just when this pilot episode can't get any worse, there's an unmotivated, random encounter in an alley between Jaime and a street thug which allows our bionic heroine to demonstrate her new fighting skills. Interestingly, she's not only fast and strong, she's suddenly -- without benefit of any training whatsoever -- completely agile and familiar with elaborate fighting moves..

Then, there's the final bionic showdown between Katee Sackhoff and Jaime. Like the 1998 Godzilla, it occurs in pounding rain so you can't make-out clearly just how bad the CGI effects are. As viewers, we're wise to that trick now, but Bionic Woman goes with it anyway. Faced with the clearly psychotic freak show, Corvis, the new Jaime doesn't register fear, anxiety, or any recognizable emotion whatsoever. She just goes right into the fight --presumably the twenty-four year old's first with a maniacal super villain -- without any preamble, doubts or a hint of concern. That's when you realize this show jumped the shark the moment the cameras started rolling.

Other than providing a sort of affirmative action program for the actors on Battlestar Galactica (Aaron "Tyrol" Douglas shows up too) -- please watch, they need the work!!! -- every aspect of this misbegotten remake is hackneyed, poorly conceived, and atrociously executed. The story is superficial, going nowhere in terms of the morality of biotechnology, for instance. All the details of "bionics," are given the barest lip service, as if the writer's figured that audiences couldn't understand the concept of nanocites. The deepest philosophical moment comes when Jamie asks "who gets to decide right from wrong?" Well, honey, apparently you do, because you are the bionic woman now.

The House Between at Fantasci

On Saturday, September 29, a three-minute trailer for The House Between Season 2 premieres at the Fantasci Convention in Chesapeake, Virginia.

The House Between portion of the con starts at 9:00 pm, and I've sent up not just a trailer on DVD, but four episodes of the show's first season for the organizers to choose from, "Arrived," "Settled," "Positioned" and "Visited." After the viewing, cast and crew members will be on hand to answer audience questions. So if you happen to be in Virginia tomorrow, check out the show!!!

Read more about the convention and The House Between here.

Regarding the series schedule, I've had a number of queries about "when the show is coming back" and right now our planned premiere date is Friday, January 25, 2008. Unlike last year, the season will air every week for eight weeks, rather than appear every two weeks and run for fourteen weeks. The second season episode order and air schedule is as follows:

2.1 "Returned" (Season Premiere) (January 25, 2008)

2.2 "Separated" (February 1, 2008)

2.3 "Reunited" (February 8, 2008)

2.4 "Estranged" (February 15, 2008)

2.5 "Populated" (February 22, 2008)

2.6 "Distressed" (February 29, 2008)

2.7 "Caged" (March 7, 2008)

2.8 "Ruined" (March 14, 2008)

Leading up to the premiere, there will be special House Between events on this blog (including trailers, a making of featurette and more), at the series home page, and on the discussion board (where you can find the Vincenzo Diaries, and starting on Halloween, an original House Between short story), so keep checking in. Editing has begun in earnest now, and the footage looks terrific.

Theme Song of the Week #12: The House Between 2.0 (2008)

COLLECTIBLE OF THE WEEK: Star Wars SSP Van

In 1977, Kenner released an unusual Star Wars toy, and one that was likely recycled from an earlier Kenner product in the heat of the merchandising blitz. Nonetheless, it's cool today as evidence of the first wave Star Wars craze of '77. You are looking at one of the Star Wars SSP (Super Sonic Power) toy vans. Two such vans were released, Luke's (which is white), and Darth Vader's, which is black. Both vans had a fifth wheel located under the center of the van, and the vehicles could be raced by a kind of primitive launching instrument/mechanism. Can't you just imagine cruising down the streets of Southern California in one of these for real, your hi-fi tape deck blasting Melanie's "Brand New Key" while you "feel the force?" When Kathryn gets home today, I'm going to ask her if we can detail our Scion XB just like this...