|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Well, at least we’re away from Hercules and jungle movies.
Will this be any better? Well,
hope springs eternal, at least until it trips in that gopher hole and breaks its
leg, then has to be shot.
And the movie just jumps right in (hopefully missing the gopher hole) as we see
some miniature rockets moved about on a miniature set, while some reporters talk
about the impending launch of the Bravo Zulu 88 toward Galaxy M12, here on
December 17th, 2116.
And the ship launches, and we get the title.
And the effects are actually pretty cool. The ship flies up above the earth, with animated flame.
It sheds stages the way some people shed undergarments; one suspects
splices are to blame in both cases. Our
unseen narrator says that his editor assigned him to file a “routine” story
on “infraradiation flux” on Galaxy M12.
We pan back from the viewscreen, through the cockpit, and through some
corridors until we see some crewmen asleep inside glass pods.
The narrator explains this hibernation is necessary because of the rigors
of space travel, however, he also says that the human body is put through a
“congealing” process, which sounds rather permanent, so perhaps his area of
expertise is actually infraradiation flux and he’s just guessing elsewhere.
He then goes on to say that at a predetermined time, the onboard computer
(called here an “electronic brain”) revives everyone. He goes on much fancier than this, but I figure cutting to
the chase is something I should do more often.
The one reviving crew member we get a good look at is a black guy with
snow white hair. He revives
and removes some plastic thing on his neck and gets out of his capsule.
The narrator explains that everyone has magnetic boots because there’s no
gravity, natch, and we see this black guy doing an elaborate, slow move from his
capsule to the floor. I seem to
recall reading that the actor is Archie Savage, who was a dancer; the effect of
his motion is very convincing that this is zero gravity.
Narrator goes on to say that he’s still asleep, with everyone else, but that
the engineer and pilot, Al, was awakened so that he could transmit stuff to the
satellite Zulu Extra 3-4. And Al
begins to call this satellite, and the satellite answers, and they chat a bit,
not really telling us anything. Al
requests position info, and another guy does the no gravity dance into the
cockpit as Al hangs up. This guy is
named Archie! Great, just
great. Al says he’s going to go
wake up “the baby” by which he means the reporter.
I hope his name doesn’t turn out to be Andy.
Archie puts on his space helmet and Al goes back to wake up the reporter.
Reporter slowly crawls out of his tube.
He narrates stuff, mostly about how it sucks to come out of hibernation,
and how’s been to the Moon lots, but never this far out into space.
“I feared that ten days on a cramped ship, with a crew of seven men who
would resent a reporter’s questions and lack of usefulness, might make me an
unpopular passenger,” he narrates. Then
he turns to Al. “The coffin was
much too small,” he says, as Al humors him.
“Couldn’t you find me a bigger one?”
”We didn’t have one, leech,” Al says.
”Why’d you call me that?”
”No offense, kid,” Al says. “It
just means that here, you’re a parasite.”
”Where are we now?”
”Outside.”
”Outside what?”
”Outside everything,” Al says, handing reporter a test tube.
“Breakfast is served.”
In the cockpit, Archie is told by the satellite that everything is cool.
Archie is looking forward to sending the reporter to the satellite.
Speaking of him, he’s got his space helmet fully attached, and he panics a bit
before Al (and the newly arrived Archie) get his helmet all patched and working.
They hand him his camera and stuff him in the airlock.
Reporter and Al banter a bit about how much/little Reporter knows.
Al seems to think the percentage is low.
He continues to prepare Reporter’s exit from the ship, detailing
everything.
”I know what to do,” Reporter says.
”Son,” Al responds, “you don’t know anything yet.” And he closes the airlock.
In the lock, Reporter grabs the metal frame around the doorway.
“Don’t touch he metal frame around the hatch!” Al says over the
speaker.
”Why? Can you see me?”
”No. But the first time out, they
all behave the same way.”
Eventually, the airlock reaches the right place, and Al opens the door.
Reporter blurts out how he’s afraid after all, but too late, the door
opens, and the bits of air left push the reporter out toward the satellite.
There’s a nice shot of Reporter drifting away from the rocket what
brang him. He explains via
voiceover that the only way to get him to the satellite without disrupting the
rocket’s mission was to pass the satellite 2000 feet away and let the reporter
drift there. He knows this is
reasonable but is still pretty scared.
And another shot of Reporter nearing the satellite, asking Al to talk to him, to
say anything. They talk (the
frightened Reporter and the space seasoned Al) about how empty and lonely it is
out here. It’s a pretty good
talk, actually.
Reporter decides that spinning would be cool.
So he spins himself. Then he
stops, and goes into the satellite’s airlock.
He presses the switch the close the door, and informs us that he’s
going to head to decompression. He
also explains that the satellite has gravity because it rotates.
He still looks a bit green, but manages to get through various hatches.
He says he was met by King 1-1-6, the doctor in charge of everyone’s various
healths. With a name like that,
I’m expecting Zoidberg but I imagine it’s just a nickname.
Some guy meets Reporter and asks him to take off his space suit and report to
the commander. Another crew guy
appears and asks what kind of guy this reporter is.
”He still smells Earthy,” says the first guy.
Spacesuitless, he reports to the commander and gives his name as Ray Peterson.
The commander is busy with paperwork, but he gives Reporter the “You
may be famous on Earth but out here, it’s all different and you’re just like
everyone” speech.
Reporter takes this in stride, and Commander repeats that he (Reporter) should
just stay out of the way since things are “critical.”
That’s fine with Reporter as “peace and tranquility don’t have any news
value.”
The teletype in the corner starts spitting out paper, and Commander turns to
read. He then called someone named
Sullivan and asks how quickly he can get a ride to Mars.
”You talk about Mars as if it was just down the street,” says Reporter.
”There are no streets here,” says the Commander. “I firmly oppose your…unwelcome visit.”
”Are you trying to flatter me?”
”But the high command refused to listen to me.
It’s apparent that you have quite a pull there.”
”Not me…but my organization has.”
”Don’t forget, Peterson, [splice, then stuff].” He says that everything that Peterson wants to report has to
be vetted by him, the Commander, and that things are different up here.
“You may go now. Later on, you’ll be shown to your quarters.”
Reporter leaves, and Sullivan enters and says the crew is ready.
Reporter walks into a corridor where several space-suited figures move across
his path. A pilot tells Reporter
that they’re all going on a “space detail.”
He asks pilot if he can go along, and the pilot says he would have to ask
the Commander. “Okay,”
says Reporter, but he says it in a way that indicates he has plans and he’s
going to do whatever he wants to do!
All this talk of duty and stay out of the way and we’re here to do a
job just shot right over his head and was sucked into his deadly foam-like ego.
A tale for our times!
In fact his voice-over just says that he went outside without permission,
because he thought this would be a good story.
We see two halves of a rocket being pushed together, and Reporter drifts
nearby taking pictures. It
turns out this special detail is a refueling mission, and we see two eensy
astronauts carrying a huge hose toward the ship while Reporter narrates the
action.
Suddenly, a meteor heads toward one of the astronauts.
Thinking quickly, Reporter pushes the guy out of the way just in the nick
of time. Thinking less quickly,
Reporter’s new momentum sends him right into the fuel line, which dislodges
and sprays fuel everywhere. We get
worried close ups of eyes to show us just how worrisome this is.
Luckily, someone remembers there’s an “Off” switch and uses it.
Still, back on board, the Commander is pretty steamed about the loss of
500 gallons of fuel. He’s also steamed that Reporter went out without
permission.
Reporter says he’s sorry, but points out that he saved a man’s life.
Commander counters that the loss of the fuel is more valuable than a
“mere” life.
Well, Reporter gets all righteous about his values vs. Commander’s.
He notes he doesn’t even know the name of the guy he saved.
Commander walks away at this, almost as if it was HE that reporter saved.
He tells Reporter that he has to obey the rules, and from now on, he has to ask
the Second in Command for permission to do anything. He then dismisses reporter—twice.
Reporter wants to know “Why are you denying me the honor of talking to you?”
Commander just says, “I’m leaving, Peterson,” and the music gets sad and I
suppose the characters are sad too, although it looks like they have simply
detected a foul odor.
Reporter walks away, then finds a rather sullen technician.
He tells said Tech that he’s looking for someone, specifically, the guy
he saved. Tech (who is apparently
the Medic) says the guy was fine, just shock, maybe he should look in the
biochemical lab.
(Both of them refer to each other by the letter and number combinations on the
back of their jump suits, which I’m not bothering to transcribe here.
Reporter is all sarcastic when he uses them.)
Reporter walks into the lab, asks if he can come in, and sees someone working
inside a machine. “Hey,
Spaceman!” he says, and I just know it’s going to turn out to be a woman!
I’ve paused it, right at the moment when the music does a giggly tinkle
and Reporter starts to gape.
Ha ha, I was right!
”Are you addressing me?” she asks, continuing with her experiments.
”Yes, but you’re a—a—“
”Go on.”
”You’re a girl! And you’re
selling flowers, too!” (That’s
what he says.)
”There are no flowers here. These
are diaspora.”
”Even with a name like that, they’re flowers.”
Okay, so why don’t you buy one, tough guy?
”They serve the purpose of changing hydrogen into breathable oxygen,” she
explains, rewriting the laws of chemistry and biology without a backward glance.
“And they’re as necessary here as the air is, on Earth.”
”But I still say…they’re flowers.”
”If you like.”
”Do you sell them?”
“I’m afraid not.”
”But, maybe we could make a deal.”
”What do you mean?”
”Oh, you see, you won’t have to send them anywhere. I’ll pay for them, and then, I’ll leave them here, for
you.”
She giggles, and he asks her where she works, and she says she’s mainly a
navigator. She likes to work down
here when she’s not working elsewhere. She
then asks him about his intentions, ie, why he’d want to buy her flowers.
He says it’s to “celebrate the second smiling face I’ve run into.
Al’s was the first,” he goes on, “but now I’ve found you.
Speaking of you, what’s your name?”
He doesn’t want to know her number stuff, but her real name.
Turns out it’s Lucy, and Reporter mentions a pet monkey his uncle had named
Lucy. The human
Lucy seems a tad put out by this, the monkey Lucy couldn’t be reached
for comment. But he says he meant
it as a compliment.
Turns out she knows who he is, from the Commander (“George”) and she
dismisses Reporter by noting “I’ve got work to do.”
And she leaves, and it turns out (duh) that she was the one he saved.
She thanks him, and leaves some more.
But enough of that, Al comes over in a space taxi so Reporter can shoot footage
of some asteroids. While
shooting the spinning rocks, they talk about stuff.
Reporter repeats that he got in trouble for saving a life at the expense
of some fuel, and the life was a girl’s!
“And she doesn’t even call him ‘Sir,’ just George!”
”By all the rings of Saturn,” Al says, laughing, “you ARE a meddler!”
They fly around in the space taxi some more, and Al notes that yes, Commander is
leaving, and no doubt Lucy will leave with him, but no matter as they’re going
to Mars. Reporter presses him for
more details of this Commander-is-leaving stuff, but Al says it’s top secret
and that’s that.
And the space taxi goes back inside, as Reporter wants to radio his bosses to
tell them to make Commander take him along to Mars.
Cut to Commander, Lucy and Reporter (I think) all waiting for Al to show up so
he can pilot them to Mars. Eventually,
he does show up and Commander says that the situation has gotten worse so they
have to go NOW.
Al asks if they’ve been able to contact “Alpha 2” and he’s told that
they haven’t. They think the
pilot may be dead. “This could
mean the end!” someone who isn’t Lucy says.
Turns out it wasn’t Reporter, as he now calls the Commander and demands to
speak to him.
Unhappily, Commander agrees to see him, while muttering about how he’s a
meddler and all.
”He’s a pretty nice guy,” Al observes.
”Do you think so?” asks Commander, but before Al can repeat himself, the
door opens and Reporter comes in. He
gives Commander a wad of papers, which anger the Commander and make Reporter go
all sarcastic again. These are no
doubt orders that Reporter be allowed to make the Mars flight with them.
And I should mention that when Reporter lays on the sarcasm, he gets really,
really creepy, like David Bowie imitating Vincent Price or something.
Well, Commander doesn’t put up any arguments, he just says, “Gentlemen,
it’s time to leave.”
And everyone does, but Commander asks Lucy to wait a sec.
He then says that because Reporter is going along, he has to reduce the
crew by one (which makes Reporter look creepier by the second).
And he’s chosen her to stay behind.
She’s not happy about this, and hints at some connection between the
two that’s making this decision for him.
She leaves, but not before saying that he spends too much time trying to be
worthy of his position, and not enough time trying to be worthy of himself.
Cut to a rocket speeding through the void.
Reporter (via voice over) notes that Lucy persuaded Commander to let her
come along, and she duly set course for Mars.
Reporter asks Al if “the nose” is still up, and Al says that the nose of a
rocket is always up, but Commander says Reporter is referring to him.
“Congratulations, Commander,” Reporter sneers.
They argue about how Reporter never gets nothing good and everyone hates him,
and Commander shows great restraint by not jettisoning him through the airlock.
He does note that Reporter is “extraneous.”
“Rude” is another good choice.
Reporter complains that everyone has made him feel like an outsider.
I don’t suppose that’s because he IS an outsider, one who (in
essence) bullied his way on board? No,
course not.
”Congratulations, Peterson,” is Commander’s answer. Oooo, burn on that reporter!
And the ship shoots through the sky some more.
But then they run into a magnetic storm! But it turns out to be a “Moon ship” asking for
help. Their tanks are exploded and
they’re being “attracted to” Mars. Ah
ha!
Commander advises them to try to orbit Mars and they’ll try to help when they
get there.
We cut to the interior of this Moon ship as they describe their various mishaps.
Sure sounds like it sucks to be them, but so far, only one is dead (the
engineer).
Commander tells them to get into their space suits and be ready to leap out of
the Moon ship as soon as they hit orbit.
Um, sounds like a plan Reporter would have come up with, but maybe he’s
self-conscious with the Press on board, glaring at him.
Wouldn’t you just know it, but one of those darn Martian moons just happens to
hove into view and it looks like the Moon ship is doomed to smack into it.
One of the astronauts, one David, leaps from the ship and smacks into the
surface first. I guess he just
couldn’t wait.
The leader of the Moon ship gets one of the engines to fire, and he starts
yelling about how “I can make it!” but then, in a confusing series of jump
cuts, it kind of looks like he crashes into the Martian moon’s surface.
Commander tells everyone to prepare to land.
All the while Reporter is looking…well, honestly, he’s sneering
enough for a Sid Vicious tribute band.
The ship flies vertically over the planetoid’s surface, and they see the
wreckage of the Moon ship, and decide to land.
This is played as if it’s really tense but it doesn’t work all that
well. And they land.
The ship tips a bit as they settle on the ground, but Lucy tells us that it’s
not serious. Some guys in suits go
out and find one of the Moon ship guys, and bring him on board.
And the ship takes off again! Wow,
that was almost close, if you squinted your eyes and sang really loudly.
Commander comes to the sickbay and asks Reporter how the survivor is doing.
Reporter says he’s not doing so hot, but he should hold out until they
get to Mars, which out to be real soon now.
Then, Commander tells him that they’re not going to Mars, now they’re
going to Venus. Reporter is
incredulous at this news, and asks why, and Commander says it’s an order from
the High Command.
”And you accepted it?” asks Reporter disbelievingly.
Commander doesn’t answer, but glares at Reporter like, It didn’t bother you
when I accepted their order to take YOU along, did it?
A Guy says that the ship (he doesn’t mean the one everyone is on) is heading
into an intense heat field, and everyone’s worried, and Al tells Commander
that things are no longer top secret, so maybe he should tell Reporter.
Well, we pan across everyone’s face and Commander says that this other ship
(the Alpha 2) doesn’t have a pilot, but is run by computer; that they’re
heading into “platonic heat” which “has the power of destruction.”
He then goes on to say that Alpha 2, the ship they lost contact with, has
“re-entered” the solar system, and will soon start to orbit the Earth, where
it will radiate this “platonic heat” over the whole surface of the planet
and basically destroy all life on Earth.
Wow, talk about kicking it up a notch!
Anyway, Commander says that’s why they’re heading to Venus, so they
can jump the shark or something and get that darned Alpha 2 so that it will not
kill everyone. Reporter notes that
this is pretty noble of everyone. He
also notes that Lucy is crying, and we get a really bad jump cut, and suddenly
she’s looking through some viewscreen and talking about continents.
Chicks, huh? Who can figure them.
Reporter notes that he sees the oceans and stuff, but she chides him and he
admits it’s just in his mind.
They chat some more. He asks if she
knows what day it is, and she notes there aren’t any days in space, so he asks
about DATES instead, and she doesn’t quite know, so Reporter points out
that…oh, you’re not going to believe this!
He says it’s Christmas Day, and carol music starts playing on the
soundtrack, along with sleigh bells!
Now, I know you think I’m making this up because I’m bored, but
honestly, that’s what happened! Even
the getting bored part!
Anyway, the Christmas carol ends and the ship shoots through space to land on
Venus. Here, they hope to be able
to intercept Alpha 2 and shoot missiles at it.
Sounds good.
Well, the ship lands and people rustle about restlessly, and Reporter takes the
poop opportunity to watch a bit of television showing the famous glass city of
Venus, which is all glass and famous and stuff.
There’s more meaningless chatter about stuff and things, and Al tells Reporter
he’s going to take him on a tour of Venus, but not for sightseeing.
Oh, and by the way, they launch a missile at Alpha 2 so they can destroy
this “deadly mechanical monster.” I
bet that’s where Futurama got the idea for Bender.
So, we’re counting down how close Alpha 2 is getting to important places
(other than space) and just when we reach five thousand miles, the intense
radiation from this mechanical monster splices the very film itself.
We cut inside a control room, where everyone who’s anyone is, and
they’re pretty upset about this 5000 miles thing.
They talk about how only the electronic brain can help them.
Let’s hope it’s not running on XP, because they are all doomed if so.
One of the gang fills in the splice by saying that Alpha 2 radiates an intense
sphere of heat, 5000 miles in diameter.
I guess what happened was that the missile sent to destroy Alpha 2 was
destroyed itself by the heat barrier.
Everyone confirms that this means Alpha 2 is “indestructible.”
”So one of man’s dreams has finally come true,” says Al.
“An indestructible destroyer.”
The others go on to note that unless there’s some change in orbit, Alpha 2
will soon orbit the earth at 3500 miles. You
can do the math, right? The
astronauts do it for us anyway.
Reporter avers that “a miracle” might help, and Commander notes that while
everyone is waiting for that, they’ll do what they can.
Another guy notes that missiles from “the other hemisphere” are ready
to fire as well, which I guess means the Soviets.
And everyone is going to order everyone else to get ready, until they are
ready. Still, most of those
present…heck, I guess all of them…seem pretty put out and sad that
Earth is about to be destroyed. I
guess I’d mark that as “sad” too.
And we get the same footage of a missile being shot out into space, and more
counting down of numbers. This
missile explodes 2400 miles from Alpha 2, which ought to make folks jump around
pumping their fists and shouting “Yes!” since that means…uh, better than
the other number. But the mood for
today is still somber. But hopeful.
Al is the one who figures out why this missile got so much closer:
Alpha 2 isn’t protected by a sphere of heat death, but by two spheres
at both ends. Between the spheres
is a clear channel.
Reporter notes that this is like an orange!
“Yes, my son,” Al humors him.
Anyway, the theory is that there’s a thin channel between the two spheres
where a missile can get through, and destroy Alpha 2 and everything will be
totally great again. No, it
doesn’t seem likely to me, either, with one radius of 5000 miles, unless the
Alpha 2 is a couple of thousand miles long, or has very long arms. Still, I’m not going to rain on their parade.
Are you?
Commander notes that if a rocket were traveling parallel to Alpha 2, it could
shoot missiles and totally kill it. Al
says he should be the one to go, because it was his idea and he should get the
credit. Go, Al!
The most interesting person here, and we’re going to get more of him!
Who wants to bet Reporter comes along?
Al gets the nod, and Commander says the others will be right alongside him, in
another ship.
”Hey, Ray,” Al says to Reporter as everyone leaves. “Now you have a chance
to do a real exclusive. It’ll be
a universal scoop!”
Reporter grabs his shoulder. “Let’s
just make it a world scoop.” And
as Al leaves, Reporter puts his arm around Lucy.
Guys, huh? Always thinking
with their primary brains.
And we get footage of (I’m guessing) Al taking off in the extra atomic rocket
he mentioned was just sitting there.
As usual, the miniatures aren’t going to fool anyone, but they’re
imaginatively shot.
And, actually, a shot of the interior of the ship shows it’s everyone else but
Al.
Commander congratulates Reporter, saying, “it’s not everyone who can
withstand sixteen gammas.”
”Considering the fact that I’m a parasite,” Reporter says, showing his
sneer for everyone. What is
it with this guy?
Well, you pull sixteen gammas and what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt. St, Kubrick don’t you call me, cause I can’t go, I owe my
soul to the SFX store.
Well, Al calls just about then, before Reporter could complete whatever
sarcastic taunt he had carefully composed.
And Reporter narrates as the two ships fly through space, looking for the thin,
thin line between the two “semispheres” of Alpha 2. Again, the model work is not convincing but
it’s fun and well shot.
The two ships confirm that both are okay, and Al takes the time to ask how
Reporter is doing. “Doing
fine,” says Commander. And
they coordinate some more about their positions and stuff like that. And how they’re going to intersect with Alpha 2 at
one place, but Lucy says a better place would be 3 degrees elsewhere, and Al
says that sounds good to him. Me,
I’m just typing this stuff.
Suddenly, the Commander’s ship gets a call from a rotating space station…and
it’s not good news! According
to this space station, there was a photonic shift!
Argh, not one of those! No!
Alpha 2 met up with some
asteroids, and she beat the heck out of them, but they altered her course by six
degrees, and Alpha 2 is going to smack the Earth ahead of schedule!
Why, that has to mean a bad disaster!
Instead of those good disasters, like a huge check in the mail.
Or finding a drug dealer’s stash!
It’s all good.
Except for our tragic astronauts. Or
rather, the space station folk. It
seems the Alpha 2 is going to be casting it’s deadly heat wave over their very
coordinates, with them in it! The
captain of said station has sent two guys out on the space taxi, and he asks
that Commander rescue them, because pretty much everyone else is totally doomed
and stuff.
Well, Commander yells that the space station folks should save themselves, but
they’re all stoic and resigned and are determined to make Reporter’s story a
good one with sacrifice and stuff, and they blow up, they blow up good, they
blow up real good. Well, they just
sort of flash and die, but come on, this is space, show some respect.
Al calls Reporter. He tells
Reporter not to forget Sullivan (the commander of the space station) in his
“scoop.” He tells him to write
that “he was never afraid. Since
man, even in space, changes his position but not his character, he is what he
is, wherever he is.”
”What’s he mean?” Reporter asks.
”What you’ve always saying,” says Commander. ”To himself, every man is a whole world”
In the meantime, Al locates the space taxi, and Commander says their ship will
change course to rescue them. And
the ship rescues the two space taxi fares.
The Commander looks at them for a moment, then orders them to rest.
And they go to get some well-earned rest.
The two note how Commander called them “boys” yet knew they were from the
doomed space station. So they
think he’s pretty cool and stuff, whatever.
What a strange world of tomorrow this is.
Anyway, back to space, Al is nearing the Alpha 2 and he’s about to shoot at
it. He does, but the missile
explodes 3000 miles away. So
he tries another, and it gets almost to the 200 miles point before it explodes
as well.
Al decides to get closer, despite the protests of everyone else who thinks this
idea is not so hot. But Al has
found the “channel” which is I guess where there’s no heat shield on the
Alpha 2.
Everyone again asks Al to come on back, as this will probably mean his death,
but he’s already 2000 miles from the Alpha 2 and is going to get even closer.
There’s more talk about how he’s sacrificing himself, too much talk
to be discarded so I’m going to guess that this is indeed Al’s final scene.
Al notes that if he’s unsuccessful, the Earth will be destroyed, and he’s
pretty bummed about that, saying that everyone would be “prisoners of space”
afterward. He’s now 800 miles
from the Alpha 2.
And as the “Wow” meters go nuts and the music gets all intense, and the
camera tilts and lights flash, and Al’s ship blows up.
Commander notes that Al succeeding in proving there’s a channel where missiles
can be fired, but, he adds, “We still haven’t got a chance.”
Damn, Al blew himself up for nothing!
Some other crew guy asks why they don’t request some other ships with
missiles, and Commander says they’d never get here in time. You mean, Al was it?
Good grief, who planned this mission?
Reporter notes some “object” that keeps appearing on the screen, and the
others stop their mourning for a moment to look.
Turns out it’s the space taxi, now orbiting the ship like a little
moon.
Reporter notes how he rode that taxi with Al, once. And everyone’s sad some more.
Reporter leaves the room, and Lucy tells Commander that she loves
Reporter, but she thinks it’s all meaningless now. Commander says that maybe it’s the only thing that matters
now. “The world of human feelings
has been much less explored than the whole of the universe, put together.”
Uh, what?
”But now it’s late. What have
we been doing all these thousands of years…we’ve been congratulating
ourselves on our progress in going faster and faster.
When in reality, we’ve only been getting further away from
ourselves.” He then asks
Lucy to take over for him. She
does, and he leaves the cockpit too.
Out in some other room, he runs into Reporter, who is all suited up to go
outside and fly the taxi. Commander
says nix to that plan, saying that “Lucy loves you” and how she’s
everything in the world to him, the Commander.
And he’s going to stop Reporter from killing himself. But Reporter slugs him a good one, and there’s Lucy,
standing there!
Reporter gives her a long look and then goes through to the airlock.
But then there’s another guy in a space suit right behind him?
What the heck?
Well, I’m guessing Reporter gets on the space taxi and pilots it toward the
Alpha 2. Commander, Lucy and “the
other guy” in a space suit all return to the cockpit, where the Other Further
Guy notes that Reporter is “going to make it.”
Oh, the spacesuited guy is one of the chaps from the destroyed space station.
Okay, that makes sense. Behind
him is another space suited guy. Fine,
fine, fine.
Reporter is tossing loose stuff to the right and left of the taxi, so he can
judge where the heat zones begin and end. Well,
it doesn’t really work that way (in reality, the fields don’t just stop like
a wall) but it’s pretty ingenious anyway.
And he’s run out of stuff to toss, so he removes something from his suit and
throws that, and it turns out he’s clear of the barrier.
So he trundles onto the Alpha 2 and crawls over the surface.
And he gets inside the ship.
Commander calls him, and tells him to shut off everything in the ship,
especially the electronic brain. We
spend a lot of time looking at the Alpha 2’s pilot in his hibernation chamber,
as it is sad he is dead and stuff.
Reporter says that everything is already disconnected, and Commander repeats
that he has to disconnect the electronic brain. Someone’s either wrong or not listening.
Well, apparently Reporter was wrong, as he goes to the EB and, under
Commander’s instructions, tries to disconnect the cables.
After a fairly weak tug, he says he can’t do it, so Commander tells him
to get out the toolkit and cut the cables.
On board, the co-pilot says they’re entering Earth’s gravity zone.
On board the Alpha 2, Reporter is cutting through the wires.
Outside, the Alpha 2’s antenna stops spinning.
This looks good to everyone, but Reporter asks how they know for sure
that the deadly heat fields are disintegrated?
”There’s only one way to tell for certain,” Commander says with
determination. “We’re coming
in!” And they count off the
thousands of miles as they approach, finally passing 5000, so they know the
deadly whatever field is gone. Lucy
excitedly calls Reporter and tells him to get ready to be rescued.
So he puts on his space helmet and pushes the airlock switch.
There’s a sudden close up of his shocked eyes as he realizes that, when
he shut everything down, that included the doors.
“It’ll never open again, never!” he cries.
Commander tells him to try again. Just
then, though, another Earth base calls and asks if they’re nuts or what, as
they’re traveling so fast they’ll disintegrate when they hit the atmosphere.
(Things disintegrate a lot in this
movie.)
Commander notes the whole situation with Alpha 2 and Reporter and stuff.
He orders everyone into space suits and tells Lucy to take over again.
Lucy tells Reporter not to worry, but he notes how he can’t control his
air, as he threw away his regulator when he was space taxiing a while ago.
(That was what he pulled off his suit.)
The radio blares again from Earth base, saying that the High Command orders them
to abandon their rescue mission. Commander
comes back into the cockpit and shuts off the radio.
See, earlier he was all about orders, remember, but Reporter has shown
him…um, that being stubborn and stuff is the real deal.
“They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
He tells Lucy to talk to Reporter and mention how they’re very close.
Reporter starts babbling. “Too
much air. My thoughts are running
wild. Talk to me, Lucy!” Hey, Lucy, you could mention how there’s probably at
least one space suit on board Alpha 2 (for the pilot), and I bet it
has a regulator.
There’s a pretty cool shot of the three astronauts flying through space toward
the Alpha 2. It’s shot from below
and is very nice looking, like some kind of ballet or something like that.
And they arrive at the ship, and they’re cutting through the door, and
Reporter’s all full of self pity and stuff.
“I believed [that they would stop Alpha 2], but there’s no faith that
can destroy the fear of death.”
And they finally get the door open (it falls on Reporter, who has passed out),
and everyone flies back over to the (good) ship.
And Lucy turns the ship around just in time before it blows up in the
atmosphere, unlike the unlucky Alpha 2, which blows up real good.
And they’ve got Reporter laying down and Lucy comes in to see him, and he sits
up, grinning. Lucy turns to
Commander and, as near as I can tell, says, “And now, you really will be
useless, George.” George is
Commander’s name, but I have no idea what she means by this.
She’s smiling as she says it, and Commander kind of looks like, Oh,
those kids, and he leaves the two of them alone.
”That’s the Earth,” says Reporter, and sure enough, there’s the earth
right outside. And we watch the
spaceship fly away from us, and it’s The End.
And the credits. Hugo
Grimaldi, who I think worked on one of those damn Hercules films, was the
executive producer. Music
supervisor was Gordon Zahler, famous for his work on Ed Wood films.
Jack Wallace wrote the narration, and “Anthony Dawson” was the
director. He’s better known under
his real name of Antonio Margheriti, and he was making movies still in the
1980’s. Yor:
Hunter from the Future was one of his. And we get the actor’s names, including Rik Van Nutter (our
hero). David “For the love of
God” Montressor (you Poe fans will get that one).
One guy’s name is Frank Fantasia.
And yes, Archie Savage as Al, the best actor and the best character in
the whole thing.
Screenplay by Vassilij Petrov. The
very last credit is the cinematographer, Marcelo Masciocchi.
So, what have we learned? Well, not
much, I guess.
In many ways, this is a typical Italian-made film, in that it meanders all over
the place. The malfunctioning Alpha
2 doesn’t even appear until the film’s at least half over, the rest of the
time there’s standing around and talking and looking at stuff and doing space
things. Oh, and a ship
crashing on the Martian moon and going to Venus and losing all that fuel.
And sneering and arguing. So
there’s lots of stuff happening, but little of it is connected to each other
(the way a real story has events). I
guess this is supposed to be a typical day in the future or something.
Credit has to be given to the film-makers for trying to make everything in this
film plausible and believable; we really do get the sense of a work-a-day space
environment, where being out in the vast unknown is just a job and there’s no
time, and no resources, to simply gaze upon what must be incredible sights.
No, there’s work to be done and fuel to be loaded, so everyone simply
does his or her job.
Of course, this makes the film just a tad dull as well.
Alas, we’re used to space adventures with flashing lasers and roaring
monsters, and aliens who want our women.
Still, if you can get over Reporter’s overweening sense of self-importance,
and his near-constant sneering, there’s certainly some things to recommend
this. Archie Savage is a great
character, he’s got authority and presence, and he looks great with his black
skin and his completely white hair. In
terms of having an impact, he’s it for this film.
The sets and costumes and stuff are all pretty good, though as some have noted,
no one leaves a film humming the sets.
The special effects are pretty obvious miniatures, but they’re clever
and well-shot and not so obvious that you’re pulled from the story.
No, for that, we have most of our actors. Commander
was stiff and solemn, Reporter was a sneering leech, Lucy not much more than a
pretty face. The best
character was Al, who had depth and resonance.
Gosh, I wonder if this movie started the trend where the black guy always
dies in science fiction/horror movies?
One thing that puzzled me, which was probably the victim of a space splice, was
the relationship between Lucy and Commander.
Were they supposed to be lovers, or ex-lovers, or even father and
daughter? It’s never really
spelled out (though I tend to think it’s the third explanation, just because
of the age difference). Of
course, Commander was so stiff it’s hard to think of him having any
feelings (other than contempt for Reporter, but then everyone has that). Still, you sort of wish Al had stuck around long enough to
tell us what was going on with them. Cos
I bet Al would know.
So, ultimately, it’s a decent enough way to spend seventy odd minutes,
provided you’ve already clipped all your nails and are done cleaning your ears
and all the stores are closed and you’ve read all your books and the DVD
player is broken and the internet is down and you only get one TV channel and
this is it. But you shouldn’t go
out of your way to see this, unless you’ve had a lot of beers and even then
it’s not much funnier, believe you me.
In space, no one can hear you yawn.