Cult-TV Gallery: Star Trek: The Animated Series Planetscapes

"Yesteryear"

"The Lorelei Signal"

"The Infinite Vulcan"

"The Magicks of Megas-Tu"

"Once Upon a Planet"

"The Terratin Incident"

"The Ambergris Element"

"The Slaver Weapon"

"Eye of the Beholder"

"The Jihad"

"Pirates of Orion"

Saturday Morning Cult-TV Blogging: Star Trek: The Animated Series: "The Ambergris Element"

STARDATE: 5499.9

The U.S.S. Enterprise conducts research on the world of Argo, a planet covered almost entirely with water.

While exploring the planetary ocean aboard an Aqua Shuttle, Kirk and Spock are attacked by a giant aquatic creature which resembles “a Denebian whale.”  It destroys the shuttle, and the Captain and First Officer are lost.

Dr. McCoy and Scotty search for the missing officers, and after five days recover them in an odd, mutated state.  Some alien science of great innovation has converted the men into water-breathers.  

Gazing at his webbed hands, Kirk realizes that this transition could mean the end of his command.  “I can’t command a ship from the inside of an aquarium,” he declares.

Hoping to be restored by the same beings who changed them in the first place, Kirk and Spock explore the ocean world, and find a race of intelligent water-breathers who are battling a generation gap of ideas among the young and old…

“The Ambergris Element” showcases a breadth of visual and technological imagination that is very refreshing.  The episode successfully explores the idea of the Enterprise examining a planetary environment and surface that is entirely water, and encountering an aquatic species of high intelligence and technology.  This is a concept that could not have been executed on the original series for reasons of practicality and budget, but makes abundant sense in terms of the Trek concept.

Accordingly, the episode rolls out nifty new Starfleet tech such as the Enterprise’s aqua shuttle, and even a small motorboat (called a “scouter-gig”).  The great aspect of these new vehicles is that they have all been created with tremendous fidelity to the 1960s-style futurism of the original NBC series.  In other words, the ships look absolutely convincing, and absolutely “of” the established Star Trek universe.

But the idea that I like so much is that the Enterprise -- an exploratory vessel, not a warship -- would indeed be equipped with all the technology necessary to explore worlds of various physical natures and properties, from volcanic ones, to aquatic ones, perhaps even to gas giants.  Clearly, animation is a more affordable route if such story ideas are to be pursued, and it’s nice to witness the scope of a tale like “The Ambergris Element.”  I guess what I'm saying is that it successfully "expands" the universe of Star Trek in a good way.

Less inspiring, to a degree, is the actual storyline of the episode (by original series author, Margaret Armen).  We get another splintered alien civilization, where a difference in approach/philosophy is causing trouble, and it’s up to Kirk and Spock to bring peace and new understanding to the planet.  This paradigm is right out of the Star Trek playbook, but the fact that the Argosians are water-breathers living on a water world gives the episode some much needed distinction.

Next week: one of the all-time classic animated Trek episodes, and another one that "expands" the universe: “The Slaver Weapon."

The Films of 1984: Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes

First things first. Director Hugh Hudson's cinematic follow-up to his Oscar-winning Chariots of Fire (1981), Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes (1984) is not particularly faithful to the events depicted in his source material, Edgar Rice Burrough's 1914 novel, Tarzan of the Apes.

For instance, in this 27-million dollar movie adaptation, Tarzan (Christopher Lambert) does not meet Jane Porter (Andie MacDowell) in the jungle; nor return for her later in the United States; in Baltimore, and then Wisconsin, specifically.

The film also largely omits Tarzan's varied (sometimes playful) interactions with a local village/tribe in Africa, plus his attempts to learn to read English himself.

And the film's climax -- in which Tarzan returns to the jungle, leaving Jane behind (ostensibly forever...) -- is also not exactly canonical; though it can certainly be rationalized in movie terms, since everyone involved in the production was no doubt thinking/hoping "sequel."

Importantly, however, Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes, does, in very welcome fashion, get at the human "truth" of the popular, often-told Tarzan story. Specifically, the film offers a realistic and believable excavation of that which Burroughs first imagined: the story of an orphaned human boy raised by apes in the wild, and his interactions with so-called human civilization.

If the Richard Donner Superman: The Movie of 1978 was all about "you'll believe a man can fly," then this careful, painstaking iteration of Tarzan is, perhaps, "you'll believe a man can swing on a vine."

And actually, that's no small achievement.

Over the long decades, the silver screen Tarzan has been involved in the hunt for gold (Tarzan's Secret Treasure [1941]), battled Nazis (Tarzan Triumphs [1943]) and faced down evil cults (Tarzan and the Leopard Woman [1946]). 

By deliberate contrast, Greystoke is a back-to-basics approach, focusing on the man and his identity rather than the pulp-styled enemies or cliffhanger challenges the character so often faces.

Crafted with meticulous care -- with talented actors, gorgeous locations and Rick Baker's still-impressive ape make-up -- Greystoke was widely welcomed in theaters in 1984 as "one of the best movies" of the year. Joseph Gelmis wrote in Newsday (March 30, 1984, page 7) that it is a "serious movie, a thinking man's Tarzan. It is also ravishingly beautiful, provocative" and "profoundly moving."

Much of that "profoundly moving" part arises from the considerable efforts of Christopher Lambert, an actor who is, in many ways at his absolute finest here. I also admire Johnny Weissmuller, one of Lambert's more prominent predecessors in the role of Tarzan, but Weissmuller's interpretation was a product of a different, more artificial/theatrical age in movie history. Weissmuller was a sort of muscle-bound body-builder-type, which today seems wrong for Tarzan. He was also a bit too clean-shaven and civilized to seem a believable man of the jungle.

Greystoke knowingly adopts a more natural approach, and Lambert is absolutely believable as an animalistic figure, one almost constantly in motion. His Tarzan is a creature of instinct, curiosity, and barely-contained energy. Lambert doesn't look like a body builder, either. His Tarzan is a lean, strong man who has flourished in the wild, sustained by that which nature provides. 

And much of Lambert's focused performance -- the character's sense of cunning and intelligence -- arises in his penetrating eyes. Lamberts' eyes are like lasers here, targeting objects and, in an instant, assessing them as threats or non-threats. Lambert also carries all of the character's emotional pain in his eyes, and at times, this is a powerful choice. It's an accomplished performance.

Jack Kroll in Newsweek described Lambert's Tarzan well, (March 26, 1984, page 74), calling him "a supple, feral creature, not an over-muscled hulk, whose animal grace becomes a human virtue and whose eyes, piercing but gentle, shows a keenness and clarity that over-civilized senses have lost."

This description really nails the Tarzan persona of Greystoke. Tarzan is not a super-human "hero" in any way, though he boasts the survival skills of his adopted family, the apes. Instead, the movie finds the character's vulnerable, human core.

Much of what Greystoke dramatizes is, in effect, Tarzan's sense of powerlessness in the face of mortality. 

As a baby, he is unable to prevent the death of his biological parents, the noble Claytons. 

As a teen in the jungle, he loses his ape mother, Kala, and is again. powerless to prevent death. 

Finally, upon return to civilization, Tarzan loses his kindly grandfather (Ralph Richardson) and even his ape father, who has been shipped to London to be studied. 

Thus life for Tarzan, as depicted in this film, is but a series of terrible losses; grief experienced and re-experienced.

This viewpoint, I submit, helps to explain Tarzan's final choice to return to the jungle at the film's climax. When life is so short, when death lurks around every corner, we cling to "home," to the place that helps us remember those loved ones that we've lost. For Tarzan, that place of happier memories is the jungle.

Unlike many Tarzan adventures of the silver screen, Greystoke also focuses explicitly on the differences between man's "modern" world and the primitive ape world of the jungle. Howard Kissel, writing a review in Women's Wear Daily (March 28, 1984, page 27), noted that Burroughs' book was written "when Darwinism and its social implications were still a dominant intellectual force." 

He goes on to suggest that "the book was aware of man's dual nature - simultaneously primitive and civilized." 

Greystoke gets at this point ably. It spends a little over half its running time in the jungle, as Tarzan ascends to the leadership of a local ape tribe, and about an hour in staid England, where instinct is derided and manners are treated as a paramount consideration.

Here's the difference as I see it: In the ape world, nobody tried to control Tarzan. Or if they did...he confronted and dominated (or even killed) them. In England, Tarzan becomes a pawn of sorts, one who is supposed to "represent" something, perhaps, like the innate superiority of man over beast. "You must overturn what has happened to you," Phillippe D'Arnot (Ian Holm) suggests. at one point. But Tarzan isn't interested in being a case study. He doesn't need to be "greater than the accident of his childhood," or a triumph of the "Imperial Science."

On the contrary, Tarzan is "what the jungle has made him" and just wants to be free to...live. 

As much as Tarzan loves and admires his grandfather, he knows that the land is not his to "sell" or "keep." His wisdom is different from the conventional wisdom of Darwin's England, and this also makes him a perpetual outsider.

The duality of Tarzan 's nature -- part man/part ape -- is often expressed in Greystoke through shots involving a mirror (or a reflection). "Mirror" is one of the first English words Tarzan learns, for instance. 

Early in the film, while sitting lakeside with another ape, Tarzan also spies his own reflection in the water and can detect, for the first time, how different he is from those around him. Later, he discovers the hut where his parents died and -- again -- gazes into a mirror, expressing a half-remembered familiarity with the alien world of human civilization.

Finally, when Tarzan courts Jane, Hudson shoots almost the entire scene inside the frame of a mirror, in a reflection. he inference is that by accepting Jane, by loving her, Tarzan fully enters the world of civilization, perhaps. 

There's a subtle message about human relationships here, as well. Jane loves Tarzan because he is not like the mannered buttoned-down men of the aristocracy, the men who are all around her. And yet, still, she wants to change him. As much as she admires him for what he is, she knows that in this state he is not an acceptable husband. Eventually, in a scene showcasing the nobility of women, Jane chooses Tarzan's happiness over her own.

Greystoke is made with great care and love (from a script by Robert Towne, under a pseudonym). For example, I admire the beautiful book-end views of the jungle that open/close the film, a reminder that the life of Tarzan -- indeed all our lives -- is but a blip in the life of the Earth. 

The ape-suits by Rick Baker hold up remarkable well today, nearly thirty-years after the film's production. And the performances are particularly strong, with Lambert providing a strong, sympathetic anchor. Richardson and Holm also do great work, creating very sympathetic "father figures" for Tarzan.

But two aspects of the film may prove troubling to some. The first is a technical issue. Andie MacDowell (playing Jane) is dubbed throughout the entire film by Glenn Close. Every time the young character speaks, there's an emotional disconnect between MacDowell's youthful appearance and Close's line readings. You can just tell something is off, and this fact diminishes the relationship between Jane and Tarzan in some critical, under-the-surface fashion. American accent or no American accent, MacDowell's line readings should have stayed in the film. Americans Kevin Costner (Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves), Keanu Reeves (Bram Stoker's Dracula) and Julia Roberts (Mary Reilly) have all played British characters and were not dubbed in their roles, and MacDowell deserves the same courtesy.

Secondly, Greystoke seems to go out of its way to not include or verbalize the name "Tarzan" in relation to Lambert's character. He is called Clayton, Jack, or simply Greystoke. I understand why this decision was made. It's another attempt to distance the character from his pulpy movie past and make this film a serious, believable interpretation of the legend. But Tarzan must be Tarzan...you can't hide his name any more than you can hide the name "Superman" (like Man of Steel attempted...) or "Batman." This movie very much wants to be about who Greystoke is -- his very identity -- and yet the name Tarzan ("White Skin") is a crucial part of that identity. The movie should have taken the name back for Tarzan, not ignored it.

My feeling about Greystoke is that it is a great first movie in a franchise that, unfortunately, never arrived. 

The movie accomplishes the difficult task of taking Tarzan's world seriously; of making the character and his environs believable and authentic to a degree never before seen. I just wish there had been a second film in the franchise, one which captured a little more of the pulp; a little more of the adventurous spirit of the Tarzan stories we know from our pop culture. Rex Reed wrote In The New York Post (March 30, 1984, page 39) that Greystoke boasts "lavish detail," "opulent sets and splendid canvases of Scottish life on the heath" but "the second half resembles all too often a boring Masterpiece Theater production on Public Broadcasting."

I wouldn't go that far, perhaps. 

Greystoke is a lush and enchanting character piece that gazes at the beating heart of Tarzan. It succeeds on those grounds. But I too -- particularly as the movie rounded out its second hour -- wished for a little more excitement, a little more action

After all, what's the point of being the Lord of the Jungle if you can't rescue Jane from a few perils like quick sand, giant snakes, or rampaging elephant? Right?

Greystoke remains a gorgeous and powerful movie, featuring perhaps one of the greatest Tarzans in film history (thanks to Christopher Lambert's performance.)  Yet when its over, you do wish the movie had also let Greystoke be the Tarzan of our popular imagination, at least for a little while.

I also would have enjoyed, I guess I'm saying, seeing a sequel with Lambert's Tarzan...fighting Nazis, Ant-Men and unearthing golden cities.

The film is now available in blu-ray format, so this is a good time to revisit Greystoke.

Movie Trailer: Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes (1984)

The X-Files 20th Anniversary Blogging: "Syzygy" (January 26, 1996)

Although it is not widely considered a signature episode of The X-Files (1993 – 2002) like “The Host,” “Irresistible,” “Home,” “Pusher,” or “Bad Blood,” Chris Carter’s “Syzygy” is nonetheless one of my favorite installments of the two-hundred-plus strong catalog. 

In part that position of favor arises from the episode’s deliberate and crafty re-purposing of familiar horror tropes.  In a very real way, the story is a wicked inversion of Stephen King’s Carrie (1976).  Only here, the victimizers and not the victim acquire paranormal abilities of terrifying strength.

In other words, this episode -- with its focus on high school cliques, Valley Girl lingo (“Hate him!”) and adolescent concerns -- proves something akin to Carrie meets Mean Girls (2004).  I find that creative equation practically irresistible in terms of the episode’s humor quotient.  And although I am a huge fan of Darin Morgan and his humor-based stories for the X-Files, his installments tend towards the nihilistic end of the spectrum.  For all its inherent wickedness and violence, “Syzygy” proves much less of a downer.

I also very much admire the way that “Syzygy’s” secondary plot about the Mulder (David Duchovny) and Scully (Gillian Anderson) relationship plays as a reflection of the main plot involving the partnership of two teen girls.  In both cases, there’s something clearly amiss, and in one case that "wrong-ness" is merely funny while in the other it proves incredibly dangerous.

Episodes like “Syzygy” (not unlike the underrated “3” in the second season) remind me how elastic and flexible The X-Files format remains.  One week it can be a a dead-on, serious exploration of a terrifying and taboo subject (like “Irresistible”), another week it can be a statement of personal philosophy (“Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose,”) and on yet another week it can playfully invert horror tropes and comment meaningfully on astrology and on human relationships.

What also makes the episode so much fun to watch and re-watch is the razor-sharp, hysterically-funny (and often caustic...) back-and-forth between Scully and Mulder.  Although some fans may not like the humor or subject matter of "Syzygy," it's impossible to deny the fact that the episode is brilliantly-written.

Three popular high school jocks have died in the small town of Comity in as many months, and local authorities, including the attractive Detective White (Dana Wheeler-Nicholson) suspect Satanic cult activity. 

Mulder and Scully look into the matter and Scully immediately suspects that two teenage cheerleaders --Terry Roberts (Lisa Robin Kelly) and Margie Kleinjan (Wendy Benson)-- are somehow involved since they both witnessed the most recent death.

Suspiciously, the two girls are also present when a basketball who offended them is mysteriously crushed by the school gym’s retractable bleachers. 

A local astrology, Madame Zirinka (Denalda Williams) informs Mulder that the girls may possess unusual powers because of a once-every-84-year planetary alignment of Mars, Mercury and Uranus, a so-called syzygy.

This planetary alignment also seems to be having an effect on Mulder and Scully, who become, respectively, horny and snippy…

A syzygy might be defined as (according to Wikipedia) “a kind of unity, namely an alignment of three celestial bodies (for example, the Sun, Earth, and Moon) such that one body is directly between the other two, such as occurs at an eclipse.” 

But importantly, a syzygy might also be described in terms of psychology, as “an archetypal pairing of contra-sexual opposites, symbolizing the communication of the conscious and unconscious minds.” This definition explains a Jungian conceit, one that suggests two people in relationship might take on opposite sexual characteristics from their norms.

Not surprisingly, both definitions of syzygy are applicable to this episode of The X-Files.  First and foremost, the episode concerns astrology, and the effect of planetary bodies on human bodies.  

Although I am not an astrologist by any means, I have always found -- perhaps to my detriment as an intellectual -- that there is a certain veneer of believability to some aspects of this belief system.  We know for a fact that there exist cosmic forces such as gravity, and that they do boast an impact on matter and energy, for instance.  Therefore, it does not seem such a gigantic stretch to suggest that a shift in such cosmic forces could impact humans in some strange or mysterious way.

In terms of astrology, I can only sort of/kind of/not-really confirm a funny old old wives tale: For many years, I worked as the office manager in my wife’s psychological practice, and all the employees who worked with me firmly believed in the idea of “lunacy;” that the full moon brought out the worst behavior in patients, ranging from bad phone manners all the way up to self-injury. The Scully in me wondered if the timing of these incidents was a coincidence, or merely our perception of the events while the Mulder in me questioned if there might indeed be some validity to the theory of the full moon exerting a more powerful influence upon some people.

But in terms of “Syzygy,” the astrology factor is the story device which permits the author, Carter, to examine the behavior of teenagers, and then, essentially, amplify that behavior to an unimaginable, fearsome level.  We’ve all known cruel girls (and boys) in high school, and witnessed how their selfish interests become the essential orbit of all activity in their social circles.  The planetary alignment in “Syzygy” thus reveals what happens when dangerously narcissistic adolescents are suddenly able to act immediately on all their worst, selfish impulses.  It isn’t pretty, but in many ways, it is pretty funny.

Much more intriguing than the mean girls, however, is the way that Carter uses the idea of the “syzygy” in regards to Scully and Mulder.  In this episode, the couple encounters a "third body" in the form of the (hot...) Detective White, and the new alignment immediately throws off the familiar relationship.  Rob Bowman, the episode's director also deserves kudos for his sterling compositions in the episode, which often reinforce how the presence of a "third" body (White's) sends Mulder and Scully spinning into erratic orbits.  Just look at the framing below and you'll get a sense of what I'm talking about:

Three bodies in alignment or conjunction? Or are they out of alignment?

If we return for a moment to the second definition of "Syzygy" -- the psychological conjunction of two people taking on opposite sexual characteristics -- the episode becomes even more intriguing. 

I’ve written about this aspect of the series before, and David Duchovny has also publicly mused on the subject, but in many ways, the sex roles of Mulder and Scully on The X-Files are reversed.  Scully is much more analytical and closed-down emotionally (which are stereotypically male characteristics), whereas Mulder is more open and questioning (stereotypically female characteristics).  

In this episode -- as Scully and Mulder are impacted by the planetary alignment -- their roles reverse again, and new facets emerge.  Mulder becomes a prowling, boozing, perfume-smelling, horn-dog, and Scully is suddenly jealous, sniping, and second-guessing.  Before anyone gets mad at me for such colorful, blunt description: these are intentionally comical extremes, and the episode makes the most out of them.  Another way to put this, usually Mulder is more female and Scully more male in nature, but "Syzygy" brings out their traditional sex roles instead...and their romantic chemistry is entirely "off" because of their reversion to societal norms.

But finally, I would argue that this episode works splendidly because, in some sense…we all have moments like these in our relationships, even without astrology conjunctions. Sexual attraction isn’t a constant.  Neither is flirting or romantic banter.  Sometimes, even with our most loved ones, things get...strained.  Irritation seeps in.  Familiarity breeds contempt.  

I love the fact that “Syzygy” uses the conceit of an astrological conjunction to reveal a very human side to Mulder and Scully’s often-idealized romantic relationship.  Indeed, I feel like they are closer, more identifiable, and much more real in our imaginations because of stories just like this one, where there are moments of pure exasperation and annoyance.  

I suppose what I’m arguing here is that it isn’t a stretch to believe that Mulder likes to Bogart the driving duties out in the field, or that he frequently second-guesses Scully’s directions.  I find that some of the best moments in The X-Files are those that bow to the reality that even partners as close as Scully and Mulder sometimes get on each other’s nerves.  It’s human.  It doesn’t mean they love each other any less.

As usual, “Syzygy” seems even more impressive the deeper one digs into its creative DNA.  The name of the town where all this craziness occurs, for instance, is “Comity,” which means "friendly or social harmony." And “comity” of course is the one quality totally lacking in the town, both between Terry and Margie, and between Scully and Mulder.  

And the fact that Keystone Cops footage keeps playing on every TV in sight is a dynamic reflection of the fact that the planetary syzygy has also frazzled Mulder and Scully’s usually-sterling investigative talents.  They are clueless and competitive throughout most of the episode, bungling each stage of the investigation, and they can’t get their acts together. 

I also categorize “Syzygy” as part three of the “American Suburbia” subplot of the ongoing series. Earlier installments include “Die Hand Die Verletz” and “Our Town.”  

In all three of these stories, a small American town is revealed to boast a seamy underside, and to be under the sway of some sinister influence, whether it is Satanism or cannibalism. All three of these episodes also involve, to some degree, the mob mentality, and therefore feature some resemblance to The Twilight Zone’s classic “The Monsters are due on Maple Street.”  

In each X-Files story of this type, hysteria and finger-pointing -- as well as mob behavior -- ultimately undo the “comity,” or sense of community, at least until Mulder and Scully arrive and can restore some sense of order or balance. 

Next week: “Pusher.”

The X-Files Promo: "Syzygy"

Theme Song of the Week: Mork and Mindy (1978 - 1981)

Lunch Box of the Week: Mork and Mindy

Collectible of the Week: Mork and Mindy Action Figures (1979; Mattel)

Last week, I remembered Mattel's Space: 1999 (1975 - 1977) action figures.  The company used the same nine inch tall action figure molds to create Mork from Ork (Robin Williams), the break-out sitcom star of 1978 - 1979 on ABC's Mork and Mindy.

The Mork action figure came with a "talking space pack" which, when a string was pulled from the rainbow colored device, would emit eight "crazy" catchphrases such as the ever-popular "Na nu, na-nu."

A Mindy figure was also produced, described as "favorite earthling and every best friend of TV's lovable MORK."  Mindy (Pam Dawber) came  complete with long hair that could be brushed (as opposed to a plastic mold, like Helena Russell's figure from the 1999 collection.)

At the same time that these two larger-scale figures were released, Mattel also produced a small 3 and 3/4s inch action-figure of Mork (to fit right alongside your Kenner Star Wars figures) 

This figure came housed in his egg spaceship (or eggship), which could hatch right down the middle and release Mork for more antics.

Model Kit of the Week: Mork and Mindy Jeep (Monogram)

Board Game of the Week: Mork and Mindy (1978; Parker Bros.)