CULT TV FLASHBACK # 52: Batman "Hot off the Griddle"/"Cat on the Fiddle" (1966-1967)

Hell hath no fury like a Fan Boy scorned (or not taken seriously...), I guess. Although for years (and for a generation...), it was the standard-bearer for comic-book film and TV adaptations, the campy 1966-1968 Batman TV series has fallen into disfavor with superhero fans today; a precipitous fall that coincides, not surprisingly, with the national shift in entertainment preferences from the theatrical and artificial to the naturalistic, gritty and "realistic."

I thought this might be a good time to remember the original Batman TV series of the 1960s since The Dark Knight is bowing in cineplexes shortly, and advance buzz suggests the film is nothing short of a masterpiece. If you gaze at Batman Begins (as well as the upcoming sequel, one supposes), you can detect how the same mythos depicted in the old Batman series has been revamped for an age where demands for increased reality carry such currency and import.

Everything about the (impressive) first Nolan feature suggests a dedicated, even radical attempt to place "the Batman" firmly in a world that audiences can believe thoroughly in. The new Batmobile, for instance, appears more like a modern Hummer than a futuristic hot rod. It's an all-terrain vehicle known as a "Tumbler" and described as an experimental military "bridging" vehicle, one that can jump over rivers (with towing cables) in a combat zone. Similarly, Batman's uniform is a modified "Nomex Survival Suit," another example of experimental military hardware that seems ultra-believable and realistic. Even Batman's amazing fighting abilities have been retconned to reflect his training in the Ninja Arts. I'm not complaining about any of these inventive flourishes; on the contrary, Batman Begins remains one of the best superhero films ever made by my estimation; but it is interesting how it seems to be exclusively a Batman for our War on Terror time.

And ultimately, that's the same reason I have no hate in my heart for the Batman TV series of yesteryear. It is simply a reflection of another time; a superhero production for a (vastly) different age and audience. To expect it to play by today's artistic standards is ridiculous; just as it is ridiculous to expect Nolan's interpretation to live by the 1960s standards. No, it is clear from even a cursory viewing that the 1960s Batman is campy, satirical, colorful, and over-the-top but -- and here's the fact some comic fans won't admit -- not at all disrespectful of the comic-book source, as has often been argued.

For, as the 1950s dawned, Batman as he appeared in DC comics was indeed drifting, nay veering, toward self-parody. How else to explain the appearance of "Bat Hound" in 1955 or Bat-mite in 1959? In fact, one can study the production design of the Batcave for the 1960s TV series and judge just how remarkably faithful it is to the art of Batman comics from that epoch. The anal-retentive, obsessive-compulsive labeling of arcane crime-fighting devices (like the "Lighted Lucite Map of Gotham City" or "The Bat Analyzer" or "the "Bat Tape Reader,") had clear, obvious antecedents in the comic book; for instance the cover of Batman # 65, which depicted the Dymanic Duo standing in front of assiduously labeled file cabinets that read "Rogue's Gallery" or "Undercover Police Agents."

So it's not totally fair (nor accurate) to demean the Batman TV series of the 1960s as unfaithful to the comic book tradition. On the contrary, the Adam West series is merely reflective of a pre-Dark Knight Returns continuity and style. Again, this is not so stylish or "in" fashion right now; but it was considered very, very hip at the time....even urbane. Also, who can deny the truth as spoken by Batman creator Bob Kane, to star Adam West: that the Batman comic was on the verge of being canceled in 1965...until the ABC series revived interest in the title. There might be no Dark Knight Returns; no Batman Begins, no Dark Knight, without this colorful, pop version of Batman that some fans today dislike so vehemently.

Even the critics of the day found much to laud in the 1960s Batman. Robert Lewis Shayon, writing for Saturday Review (February 12, 1966) suggested that "Historians of culture in the future may well say that television's early attempts at art were smaller-than-life drams of Chayefsky, Nash, Mosel and Foote, but that the medium attained full stature as an art form with the larger-than-life comic, Batman."

The New Yorker agreed, noting that this adaptation of the comic was "sure-footed, full of nifty gadgets and ridiculous costumes, and with at least a couple of lines that could pass for wit on a foggy night" (November, 12, 1966).

The series was a sensation with viewers too. “Batmania" swept the youth culture. In Detroit, a hairdresser invented the “Batcut,” a hip new hairdo, and at a nightclub called Wayne Manor, youths danced "the Batusi" with the Joker as their Maitre’d, while Wonder Woman served drinks. The Federal Communications Commission Chairman at the time, E. William Henry, joined the “bat”-act too, donning a Batman costume to attend a Washington benefit. Series-related merchandise sales totalednearly eighty million dollars in 1966, and because Batman aired twice a week, on Wednesday and Thursday nights at 8:00 pm on ABC, it became the first show in history to hold two spots on the season-end Nielson top ten.

Now, you'll find plenty of Batman faithful who claim that this sixties version of Batman actually mocks their hero by making him a stolid, square figure of total morality and decency. Indeed. And the police in the show, Commissioner Gordon (Neil Hamilton) and Chief O'Hara (Stafford Repp) are utter incompetents to boot! Again, however, one must view this work of "pop art" (that's what producer William Dozier called his series...) in historical context to understand this interpretation of the mythos.

It was a highly turbulent decade in terms of politics. It was the era of the Kennedy Assassination, the Vietnam War, Civil Rights battles, and so forth. The emergence of the counter-culture (which questioned such American pillars as nationalism, respect for elders, respect for the military, and respect for the law enforcement), would not accept (nor admire) a superhero played straight, belonging to a bureacratic system that seemed old and corrupt. The purpose of the 1960s superhero, it seems, was to mock the innocence (or naivete...) and values of the 1950s, and it was here that Batman truly excelled, as parody, as satire, of the square-jawed hero and his ilk. So this Batman was sure to buckle his seat belt while riding in the Batmobile. This Batman was chronically un-hip (like all those people over thirty you shouldn't trust). "I never gamble," he asserted in one episode. "Good City Government is its own reward," he deadpanned in another. "Good grammar is essential," he says to Robin in one episode, and so forth.

The second season two parter "Hot off the Griddle"/"The Cat and the Fiddle" (which aired in September of 1966) reveals this pop-comic in all its counter-culture, colorful 1960s glory. The story involves Catwoman, played by the sexiest woman of the 1960s -- Julie Newmar -- stealing a variety of "cat"-themed objects before Batman and Robin set a trap for her at Gotham's Museum of Natural History.

She double crosses them and then, using Cat Darts, poisons the heroes and and places the unconscious Dynamic Duo on giant hibachi ovens(!), under over-sized magnifying glasses...where they will be burned to a crisp. A combination of calculus and happenstance (a convenient solar eclipse) help Batman and Robin escape this danger from the "Hateful Hussy." It is in this sequence that -- ever self-reflexive -- Robin asks Batman why these cliffhanging traps always threaten them, but never seem to succeed. An in-joke about the structure of the series ("same Bat-time; same Bat-station" and all), this comment acknowledges the absurdity of the format (and of television as an art form to an extent...), but Batman -- about to break the fourth wall -- comments that he and his ward keep surviving because...they have "pure hearts." Uh-huh. Nothing to do with ratings.

This episode is filled with those small, delicious moments that parody the form, and will likely infuriate the modern-minded who want their costumed heroes served up with ABSOLUTE SERIOUSNESS. For instance, on his way to stop Catwoman at the Gotham State Building, Batman pauses to pay the parking meter. "Good citizenship, you know," he says. At another point, Batman looks skyward to see what Catwoman is doing on the roof of the building and his cohorts ask (of the criminals): "Are they birds? Are they planes?..." Again, supremely silly, but that was mission assignment for 1966. And don't even get me started on the visual pun about "turning the tables" on Catwoman at her "front" restaurant, The Pink Sandbox.

A generation (my generation...) grew up with Adam West's Batman and Burt Ward's Robin. As youngsters, the "camp" aspects of the show didn't really register for us, and the series was merely a great adventure featuring noble heroes, colorful villains and the most awesome set of gadgets and vehicles anyone had ever seen. But as adults, we found that this Batman -- played for laughs -- was worth a second look because the series was clever, irreverent, witty and utterly ridiculous. Again, these aren't the virtues of today -- believe me, I get it -- but for Cult TV Flashback 52, I thought this would be a "groovy" remembrance; especially with The Dark Knight rising. You can enjoy this show thoroughly if only you remember it is a product of the 1960s, all right?

Ultimately, there may be as many interpretations of Batman as there have been of Hamlet (or in terms of genre: Dracula). We had pure, straight-faced innocence in the form of Robert Lowery and Johnny Duncan's 1943 Batman. We had colorful, over-the-top camp in the Adam West version of the 1960s. We had an "Outsider" vision of Batman in a rotting, post-Reagan urban blight; from Tim Burton's 1989 feature. We even had a fetishist (and gay?) interpretation in Schumacher's 1995 and 1997 franchise entires (Batman Forever and Batman & Robin). Now, we have entered the Age of the Ultra-Real and have Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. The characters, situations and locations remain the same, but with each new writer, each new director, each new lead actor, the interpretation of this legend evolves. In forty years, I wonder how the Bat-fans of that time will look at Nolan's work?

I'm curious to see what the next step in this legend will be; even as I find myself humming that memorable theme song (by Neal Hefti) from the Batman I grew up with.

Don't Forget to Vote For The House Between!

Hey! -- Here's your bi-weekly reminder to vote (EVERY! DARN! DAY!...) for The House Between in the Sy Fy 2008 Genre Awards.

You can find the ballot by going to Sy Fy Portal, and clicking on the Twilight Zone-like icon in the upper right-hand part of the frame. And The House Between is nominated in the category for Best Web Production.

Now, another Season Three image coming your way. Not that it will make much sense at this point...

RETRO TOY FLASHBACK # 78: The Amazing ENERGIZED Spider-Man (Remco; 1978)

From Remco Toys and Marvel Comic Group in 1978 (the days of the Nicholas Hammond Spider-Man TV series...), comes this amazing, large-scale figure. This Amazing Spider-Man figure is energized "to climb!" Just "attach the Spider-clamp, turn on Spiderman's energy belt and his web climber goes into action. He climbs doors. Walls. Windows. Fences. Automatically."

But there's more. Spiderman is also energized "to pull! To lift!" Yes, "Spiderman's energized web actually pulls and lifts objects heavier than his own weight." The figure could also "throw light." His "Spider-Light cuts a beam through the night, lighting the way to safety...or to find the enemy!"

This figure was actually part of a very cool Spidey line from Remco. There was also a Spider-copter, and Spidey's powers could "turn the rotor" and also "send out a powerful search beam." Our friendly neighborhood figure also had an enemy in the form of the equally "energized" Green Goblin. Gobs was "energized to cut Spiderman's web" and "power his Goblin ray gun."

Finally -- and also sold separately -- was a nifty Spider-man accessory pack, which came with a Spider Trap, Spider Ray Gun, and a rocket camera; all of which could be attached to Spiderman's energy belt.

Movie Poster of the Week

The League of Tana Tea Drinkers

Just this week, I happily accepted an invitation to join a fantastic community of bloggers called The League of Tana Tea Drinkers (hence the logo; left). The League's mission statement is one I heartily approve and support:

"...to acknowledge, foster, and support thoughtful, articulate, and creative blogs built on an appreciation of the horror and sci-horror genre."

Among other things, membership in the League means that I'll sometimes be blogging on "unity" subjects with the other Tana Tea Drinkers (and there's some neat stuff ahead, I can already tell you...).

I am truly honored to be a part of this impressive community, and hope that you will enjoy my contributions there, and also regularly check out what the other League members are blogging about.

CULT MOVIE REVIEW: Fahrenheit 451 (1966)

Imagine -- if you will -- a world in which you are not permitted to read a book on your lunch hour. Or one where you're not allowed a little summer reading on the beach. Imagine, even, a world where the simple act of reading a book could get you a berth in a government "re-education" center. It is a world of wall-sized TV screens (that are always turned on...) and ubiquitous walkman-type radios; it is a world where you are encouraged to always tune in to "The Family" on TV; and where your wife constantly pops pills to modulate her moods (and prevent depression).

This is the nightmare world imagined in Ray Bradbury's novel, Fahrenheit 451, and later in the Francois Truffaut film adaptation of 1966. This is a world of the "future" (looks to be late twentieth century...) in which helmeted, storm trooper-style firemen start fires rather than putting them out; where they rush to the scene of a crime in their scarlet fire engines and then proceed to gleefully torch every book they can find. Books with titles such as Othello, Vanity Fair, Tom Sawyer, Moby Dick, The Catcher in the Rye, Lolita, Plexus, Alice's Adventure in Wonderland and Madame Bovary. Even Mad Magazine does not escape the rampage of these authorized government officials. Even Truffaut's beloved Cahiers du Cinema is set aflame. Books are dangerous repositories of dissatisfaction, after all, at least according to the firemen, who are looked upon by the populace with a combination of fear and admiration.

How and why would a future world evolve like this? The Fire Chief in the film (played with fascist conviction by Cyril Cusack) explains it well after discovering a secret (and forbidden) library with his troops. Books, he explains, raise all kinds of uncomfortable questions. Some books even contradict each other. "Only I am right," some authors seem to say, "the others are idiots." Therefore, books clearly (and intentionally) upset a satisfied populace by making it think about things, and considering for itself which point of view is valuable. The very act of writing, according to the Fire Chief, is pure vanity because it is one person forcing his or her beliefs on the populace, and making it confront unpleasant things. "We've all got to be alike," The Fire Chief insists, explaining his distaste for the written word to the film's protagonist, fireman Montag (actor Oskar Werner). True equality, it seems, can only be achieved when everybody is exactly the same.

And the only way for everyone to be alike (according to the Government), is for everyone to be equally uninformed, I guess. Smoking is bad for people, the Chief explains, and but now -- in his world -- there are no written studies to prove it, and so there is nothing to feel bad about. This particular argument struck a note with me and seemed particularly timely as I watched the film last night. We've all heard how Bush Administration officials have suppressed NASA reports on global climate change, over the objections of the scientists who conducted them. These reports state facts, not opinions...but again they might make us feel bad about the state of things...so best just to suppress them; keep them away from the eyes of a populace that is happy buying coffee at Starbucks, watching American Idol on flat-screen TVs, and buying groceries at Wal-Mart. I mean, "why bother people with that sort of filth?" to paraphrase a character in the film. Perhaps this future isn't so far away after all?

But I get ahead of myself. Fahrenheit 451 tells the dramatic story of Montag, a fireman who does not question THE WAY THINGS ARE and happily goes about his business of destroying books. He's up for a promotion, in fact, and this is good, because his wife, Linda (Julie Christie) doesn't want a bigger house; she wants a second wall screen TV installed.

Then, one day, Montag meets a woman, Clarisse (Christie again), who asks him if he ever reads the books he burns. This lively, vivacious, passionate woman plants a seed in his mind, one that grows, as Montag begins to see how heartless, cold and vapid his society (a society without the printed word) has become. Then, one night, Montag breaks the law and reads a book for himself, David Copperfield (by Charles Dickens). It is an especially appropriate choice of tomes because it begins with the sentence "I am born," and then goes on to ask the question whether the book's protagonist will turn out to be the hero of his own life, or whether that important task should be left to another. This is the very crisis Montag faces at this juncture. Upon reading the first words of this book, Montag - if not actually born - is certainly re-born, into a world of possibilities. And what will he choose: the conformity he knows (and there is security and safety in conformity, right?) Or the opportunity to be a hero in his own life and confront this new Dark Age head on?

As you might guess, Montag begins to question the system that has nurtured him, but turned his wife into a pill-addled vegetable. "You're nothing but a zombie," he tells her angrily. "You're not living, you're just killing time." After reading his first book, Montag rejects the fascist system one piece at a time. He refuses to use the automatic fire pole in the fire station (better to walk on his own two feet than be carried up and down automatically, without thought). Then, on a search.raid for books in a public park, Montag permits a perpetrator secreting books in his jacket to escape with the texts. This important moment is highlighted by Truffaut in interesting visual fashion. The moment is heightened as half the screen goes black with a progressive wipe, leaving us only a view of the important action (the interaction between fireman and book person) on the right side of the frame.

Truffaut, heavily inspired by Alfred Hitchcock here (down to the pounding Bernard Hermann score), does not shy from visuals that augment the film's point. For instance, the opening credits are not flashed on the screen in the fashion we are used to; as printed words, but rather "read" by a narrator over a montage of shots (zooms, actually...) of ubiquitous TV antennae. This choice effectively denies the audience a glimpse of the written word, which is forbidden in this future world. More to the point, perhaps, the montage reveals in detail (as we see the antennae in close-up again and again) how ugly, inhuman technology (the antennae) has supplanted literary artistry, beauty and humanity.

Perhaps the best aspect of this film is something more subtle, however. Truffaut has seeded throughout his film (a genuine masterpiece, I'd say) various scenes of intense narcissism or self-love on the part of many characters. Early on, for instance, we see a female passenger on a monorail gazing at her reflection. She kisses it. Later, a medic gazes at his own face in a reflective medical case and he lingers on the image as if entranced by it. Linda, Montag's wife, is seen standing in front of a mirror touching her own breasts, obsessed with her "image" and "beauty."

Others on the monorail touch their own lips (as if to prove they still actually exist), and massage the collars of soft, fur coats. There are simply too many shots of this type for them to be a mere coincidence or a mistake. So what Truffaut is doing with these sequences and these shots, I believe, is selling visually the point that in a world where there is no consideration of philosophy, no history, no biography, and no imagination, the human psyche collapses into orgy of hedonistic self-love and narcissism. When thoughts lose currency and everyone is the same, each person receiving his or her 15 minutes of fame (witness Linda in the film getting to "play" with actors on a reality-type TV series), there is nothing but "self" to obsess on. A society of "Me" has grown-up here, at the expense of the community as a whole.

This is the most valuable aspect Fahrenheit 451; and surely the most prophetic. Bradbury first (and then Truffaut) saw that books -- with all their ideas -- were being supplanted by the callow, colorful world of non-stop television. They saw too, how a government could conceivably exert control over a population by employing this superficial medium (one where style is championed over substance). This too has come to pass. Remember how after 9/11, color-coded terror alerts were broadcast to make people jump, make people fear, (and in some cases, change the way people were likely to vote...)? Remember, how the Bush Administration (with your tax dollars!) released propaganda supporting their Medicare reform (in truth, hand-out to the pharmaceutical and insurance industries...), but made it look like an authentic news report ("This is Karen Ryan reporting...")?

What Bradbury and Truffaut understood so clearly was that television could be manipulated in a most dastardly way by those with a hidden (and malicious) agenda. I'd say they also realized how television could appeal to the baser "train wreck" instincts of people. At the end of Fahrenheit 451, Montag's "capture" by the State is orchestrated for the TV cameras (it's actually a sham), but it reminded me of how, in 1994, TV viewers were held captive by the "real-time" pursuit of O.J. Simpson in his white Bronco. This kind of thing is ever so much more entertaining than thinking about the important things (like, say, genocide in Rwanda...) isn't it?

The world of Fahrenheit 451 is also one in which citizens are asked to spy upon one another to keep the system intact. Outside fire stations are carefully placed hot-red "information boxes" where citizens can leave tips about law violators (anti-social elements organized in "cells", just like terrorists....) Again, this doesn't seem very futuristic today. Remember, after 9/11 the Bush Administration proposed Operation TIPS (Terrorism Information and Prevention System) a program designed to help United States citizens report suspicious activity among their neighbors. In particular, the program suggested that workers such as cable installers and telephone repairmen should be reporting on what was in people's homes if it were deemed "suspicious."

Fahrenheit 451 saw all this coming, particularly how the ubiquitous nature of television (not religion) would become the opium of the masses. Now, it may seem supremely contradictory for me - who makes a living from reviewing television - to be noting the dangers of the medium, but I don't think that's actually the case. Television (as is the case with film), is -- universally -- what you decide to make of it. You can approach the medium actively, with curiosity, or you can approach it passively, as an opportunity to "veg" out. I submit that the world of reality television (about the ritual humiliation of other Americans) is the worst example of video rubber-necking or watching a train wreck. But watching and considering intelligent drama - of any genre- is something quite the opposite. Still, consider that in the world of Fahrenheit 451 you could not read this blog, even. That you would not be able to - with written words - analyze the events and characters you had seen on Battlestar Galactica, Doctor Who, Lost, Star Trek, Planet of the Apes, or anything else.

And this gets us to a point of importance, I believe. Even as TV news has become more biased and one-sided, telling only half the story (and usually the sensational half...); even as reality TV has grown more despicable and appeals more and more to the lowest common denominator, our society boasts an antidote: the counterweight of the Internet, which can provide free, instantaneous and democratic information. That's why our society, I believe, has not succumbed totally to the Orwellian tactics of the current Administration. As long as the Internet -- this series of "tubes," as one Senator described it -- exists, it allows dissent and investigation. Therefore, there is not total brain death, and the book burners and government fire men will never win. (Which is why the idea of "Net Neutrality" is so scary to me; it's basically the idea of removing the democratic independence of the Internet, making it the purview of - surprise! - the corporations.)

As a writer of books, I suppose I take Fahrenheit 451 pretty damn personally. The idea that the work of an artist's entire lifetime (Shakespeare, Joyce, King...) can be so easily destroyed is immensely frightening to me. Book burners, alas, are not merely the bailiwick of fiction. There have been book burners in Nazi Germany, in Stalinist Russia, and yes - here - in the United States. And the scary thing is those who burn the books often do so under cover of moral rectitude; hidden under the lie that they are protecting us from bad things (like, say, racism in Twain's Huck Finn, or witchcraft, as portrayed in Harry Potter or The Wizard of Oz). The end of Fahrenheit 451 offers hope, however, and it nearly brought me to tears. The climax of the film reveals a new sect of citizens called "Book People." Since books are illegal, these people have become the books they loved. They have memorized the one special book that means something to them, and so carry on the legacy of the writers. Every word. Every sentence. Every thought. All memorized.

As the film concludes, Montag meets someone who is Plato's Republic; someone who is Pride and Prejudice, someone who is The Martian Chronicles, even. There were Dark Ages before, periods in human history where knowledge was lost, and only some of it preserved. And the overall message seems to be here that we can survive another, should it happen. In Fahrenheit 451, the human spirit - the human quest for knowledge and truth is transcendent and indomitable - and man, even technological man -- finds a way to keep knowledge alive.

It makes me wonder. If you were to become a book, what would book would you choose? What book couldn't you live without? What book couldn't the world live without?

Muir Goes Beyond The Grassy Knoll...to Answer Live Calls

Hey everybody, I'm traveling back to the "Grassy Knoll" tonight from 10:00 pm to midnight (Eastern time) to discuss horror films and television with hosts Keith Hansen and Adam Gorightly.

We'll be discussing my books, my career, "The Sacred Mushroom" (the notorious episode of One Step Beyond in which host John Newland sampled peyote on network television...) and so much more. Should be ghoulish good fun...

We'll also be taking live calls! So join us if you get the chance. The link is right here.

RETRO TOY FLASHBACK # 77: Star Trek: First Contact Action Figures (Playmates; 1996)

Today I'm attempting again to work up some 1990s nostalgia (again!) with a look back at the collectible toys from that era. In previous posts, I've looked at Playmates SeaQuest DSV figures and Hasbro Stargate figures from the early 1990s. Today, I turn my attention back to the prolific Playmates company; specifically to the Star Trek franchise as it existed in the middle of the decade.

In 1996, Star Trek: First Contact (directed by Jonathan Frakes) was released and immediately became a big theatrical hit. I can explain why it was so successful in one word: BORG!

No, seriously, First Contact not only featured an interesting and diabolical nemesis for the crew of The Next Generation to combat, it also featured some splendid action scenes (particularly one riveting and anxiety-provoking sequence set on the hull of the newly christened Enterprise E). There are other great moments too, like Picard calling Worf a coward; or risking his life to save Data. The film's ending, with the flight of the Phoenix and the "first contact" with Vulcns is also very uplifting and emotional, especially for dreamers like me. And how can I forget? The film boasts great Goldsmith soundtrack (and main theme). On the other hand, I was less enamored of the film's "comic" subplot, which found Riker, Geordi and others dealing with an often-drunk inventor Zefram Cochrane, trying to prod him into testing his warp ship, the Phoenix. Meh. Today, those latter sequences stick out like a sore thumb and seem really, really lame.

Still, First Contact is likely the highest-regarded of the Next Generation films (and next to Nemesis it is positively golden), and Playmates certainly went gung-ho with a number of high quality toys related to the hit film. There were a cluster of new spaceships to play with, including the Enterprise E, the Borg Orb (which some Star Wars fans complained looked like the Death Star...) and Cochrane's retro-Phoenix.

But Playmates also released a number of new (larger) action figures from the film. This was the first time these beloved characters were seen in their new black and gray ribbed uniforms. On the plus side, these First Contact figures were absolutely beautifully-detailed and authentic to the iflm. On the downside, they were out of scale with the rest of Playmates' exhaustive, amazing figure line (which included figures from The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager and classic Star Trek). That last bit was kind of a bummer if you wanted your Picards to mingle with your Janeways, for instance. The figures came with phasers, tricorders and the like, but also with a little mini-poster from the film.

Playmates released new versions of Picard, Riker, Data, Geordi, Troi, and Worf, as well as more First Contact specific figures. For instance, Alfre Woodard's character Lily Sloane, got an action figure, as did Cochrane (as played by James Cromwell). My two favorite figures, however, were Captain Picard in his bad-ass space suit (how often do we get to see space suits on Star Trek?) and the very mean-looking Borg soldier. But hey...why no Borg Queen?

VOTE NOW!

The 2008 Sy Fy Genre Awards are now officially open for voting! You can vote once a day from now (June 25) through July 25, 2008. My series, The House Between is a competitor in the category "Best Web Production" so if you're a The House Between fan, now's the time to show the series some serious love!! We have stiff competition (most of it named Star Trek...), but make YOUR VOTE COUNT today! You can vote right here.

Thanks, and here's an image from The House Between's explosive (literally...) Season Three episode, "Devoured."

Comic-Book Flashback # 9: Doctor Who: "The Stockbridge Horror"

Presented by Marvel in June 1986 (though originally seen in Doctor Who Monthly #72-73), this Doctor Who comic adventure was written by Steve Parkhouse.

The tale occurs in the era of the fifth Doctor, portrayed by Peter Davison. It's concerns a "the thing in the TARDIS," a being with "no name, no mind and no heart" who invades the Doctor's beloved conveyance feeling "fierce flames of heat...and awesome need." For a million years, this thing walked in "darkness" but "no more."

In fact, this thing is some weird reflection of the Time Lord himself; as the Doctor is currently sans companion in this chapter. When the creature invades the Doctor's time machine (appearing first as an image of Spider-Man, no less, making this a rather odd Marvel cross-over...), a larger conspiracy reveals itself. On the Doctor's last visit to Gallifrey, the Time Lords apparently inserted a device into the TARDIS to monitor the renegade Doctor, and now the Time Lords have sent a warrior named Shayde to destroy the beast rapidly taking control of the TARDIS.

Shayde promptly informs the Doctor that the TARDIS and he have become too alike. Both are "quirky, idiosyncratic and ultimately schizophrenic." Wow -- great description (though not especially true of Davison's incarnation/interpretation)!

Then, a new brand of military TARDIS appears off the bow, ready to blow up the Doctor's time ship if things go awry. It is captained by the militant Time Lord Tubal Cain. The doctor expresses horror at the thought of a Time Lord in the military, and fears what's next: a Time Lord in politics?

As the story ends, Shayde prepares to do battle with the monster inhabiting the TARDIS. This Marvel comic-book also features two other short stories worth mentioning. The first is "Skywatch - 7, concerning UNIT (United Nations Intelligence Task Force) tangling with a Zygon (from "The Terror of the Zygons"). The second is "The Gods Walk Among Us," about a Sontaran trapped in Tutankhamun's tomb for 5,500 years. (I wonder if he ever ran across Sutekh while he was there...). Confession: I love the Sontarans. I just do. Can't help it. It might have to do with the fact that the first Doctor Who serial I ever saw (on WWOR TV, Channel Nine out of New York) was "The Sontaran Experiment.")

So "The Stockbridge Horror" is a flashback to 1980s Who, though if truth be told, I've always preferred 1960s and 1970s era Who (and now, David Tennant modern Who). This comic-book is plenty of fun, though, and I always appreciate tales that examine the deep bonds that tie the Doctor to his unusual TARDIS.

My biggest problem with this overall story (as well as this issue in particular...) is the concept erosion apparent in the dramatization and handling of the Time Lords. I wrote about this in my book at length, but originally in Doctor Who lore, the Time Lords were the most feared creatures in all of time and space (even the Doctor feared them...). They were more terrifying than Cybermen or Daleks. Their justice was Draconian, to say the least (witness the conclusion of "The War Games").

But by Pertwee-era Who, the Time Lords were effete British dandies sending The Doctor on special missions, like some futuristic "M" in the James Bond series. By the time of the Davison era, the Gallifreyan Time Lords were just like any other race on any TV show (like the Vulcans on Star Trek, for instance), and had lost all their menace...hence all their individuality and special nature. Their grandeur was reduced by multiple visits to the planet Gallifrey and the dawning realization that the Time Lords could not be dramatized (by the low-budget BBC production) in a manner that preserved their mystery and superiority. (That said, I quite enjoyed "The Deadly Assasin" and "The Invasion of Time," both set on Gallfrey; I merely mourned the death of the original -- and superior - concept of Time Lords as awe/terror inspiring.)

First the McCoy era and then the new series have attempted rather successfully to rectify this concept erosion (in vastly different ways...), but this comic chapter is perfect evidence of it at a terrible low point. Along comes Time Lord Tubal Caine, wearing shoulder epaulets and a green military uniform, (and twentieth century style military haircut...) flying a TARDIS that looks like a terrestrial tank, ready to blow up the TARDIS if "the exorcism" of the time machine goes badly. It just wreaks of...bad Star Trek.

Still, I've been waxing nostalgic for Doctor Who lately, and I today I felt like looking back at the adventures of an incarnation that I never liked that much (Davison's). So I plucked out this comic book and - right here, in one issue - I found the reasons that I both liked and disliked that era in series history...

One Step Beyond Interview Now Live!

The Beyond the Grassy Knoll interview I did Friday afternoon on the subject of the 1959-1961 anthology One Step Beyond is now live. You can listen in right here. For my cult TV flashback on the series from this blog (back in 2005), go here.