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[January 10, 1969] Mad for this show (Star Trek: "Whom Gods Destroy")

The Cure for Schizophrenic Storytelling


by Joe Reid

Happy New Year to everyone!  1969 is upon us and the first new episode of Star Trek for this year is come!  “Whom Gods Destroy” is the episode of the new year and although it was a smaller story, it was well crafted and concise.

It started off with the Enterprise arriving at a poisonous planet named Elba 2: a planet for the criminally insane. Kirk and Spock beamed down with an unnamed medicine that cured all incurable mental illness.  As the curable ones have all already been cured throughout the galaxy, the asylum only had about a dozen patients in it.

Upon arrival they meet Governor Donald Corey, a very jovial man, who informs them that the asylum recently welcomed its 15th patient, Garth of Izar, a former captain that Kirk revered.

On the way to visit Garth, Marta, a green skinned Orion woman, says that Corey is not who he says he is. Corey laughs it off and takes them to Garth's cell, only to find that Corey, the real Donald Corey, is in the cell.


"Also, I'm Batgirl—why won't anybody believe me?"

Garth had tricked them, changing from Corey into his true form before their eyes, and freeing the inmates in the surrounding cells, bringing them to his side.  Kirk and Spock are trapped on the planet.  As Spock is dragged away unconscious, Kirk is put into the cell with the real Corey.

Lord Garth, leader of the future masters of the universe, as he now demands to be called, transforms into Kirk as a part of his plan to take the Enterprise and pursue vengeance against his former crew that mutinied against him. 

As Garth contacts the Enterprise in the guise of Kirk, he is foiled in his attempt to gain access to the ship by Commander Scott.  “Queen to queen’s level 3”, says Scotty.  It's a passcode that the real Kirk set up as an increased security measure.  Garth blows a gasket after this occurrs.

Garth then decides that he should change tactics.  He goes back to Kirk, bringing Spock back and inviting them for dinner.

All the free asylum inmates, now Garth’s crew and subjects, are present and entertaining each other.  We are even treated to a dance by the lovely, jade-colored Marta.


"Dessert, Captain?"

At this point I considered this episode, written by Lee Erwin, to be fully set up. 

What came next was an expertly written tale of misdirection and subterfuge, by all parties.  Kirk as the hostage trying to use his intelligence and wits to find a way out.  Scotty, as a commander seeking to find a way to rescue his captain without causing him harm.  Garth, as a brilliant, but insane, changeling able to match wits and brawn with Kirk to achieve his aim of universal domination. 

Several times throughout the episode I had my assumptions challenged and my expectations subverted.

Again, I give credit to Mr. Erwin for crafting a tale with fleshed-out characters and subtle nods to history.  Garth, wearing his coat with this left arm in the sleeve and the other draped over his shoulder, hinted at him being a futuristic Napoleon Bonaparte.  Marta was a complex character who was as insane as the other inmates, yet lived within some rational rules and boundaries, never lying to anyone about anything.

Kirk, and the rest of the crew made no mistakes in the episode that a less skilled writer might employ to increase tension. 

In the end this small, self-contained story did many interesting things, but didn’t try to do too much.  There were many paths that this story could have meandered down, but Mr. Erwin skillfully kept the main thing the main thing.  A great start for 1969 Star Trek in my opinion.

Five stars



by Janice L. Newman

The Little Captain

I was very much impressed by “Lord Garth’s” performance. He took a role which would have been terribly easy to overplay and made it his own. Thanks to movies, TV, and comic books, we’re all familiar with the idea of the inmate of an asylum who ‘thinks he’s Napoleon’. Often such roles are treated as one-note portrayals: usually for laughs, occasionally to be creepy or frightening, sometimes to be pathetic. Brilliantly, Steve Ihnat manages to infuse his performance as Garth with all of these, smoothly transitioning from menacing and cruel, to throwing a tantrum like a small child, to being unintentionally funny even as one tries not to laugh.

One of the most interesting and subtle aspects was Garth’s furred, gold-lined coat. Throughout the episode, except when he is disguised as someone else, he is never seen without it. He’s constantly fidgeting with the coat, swinging it around him like a cloak (with one sleeve hanging ridiculously off the back), slinging it over one shoulder like a toga, or even cuddling it like a child with a security blanket. The coat becomes a physical representation of his delusion, and it’s not until the very end of the episode, when he’s beginning to respond to the treatment of his mental illness, that we see him without it at last.


"Don't tell me how to wear my clothes…"

There were many other things I liked in the episode, but the one that stayed with me, and which I suspect will stay with me for some time to come, was “Lord Garth”.

Five stars.



by Gideon Marcus

Birth of a Dream

As is tradition, before we tuned into Trek Friday night, we all gathered 'round the dinner table for a fanzine read.  Trekzines are a land office business these days, and my mailbox sees a good half dozen amateur publications in it each month devoted just to Trek (not counting the half dozen or so others that cover science fiction in general).  This time around, it was the near-pro quality Triskelion issue #2. 

The first piece in the fan-mag is by none other than Hal Clement, the famed hard science fiction author and professor, writing about the Enterprise and its basis in real science.  Abstruse stuff, but interesting.  It just goes to show how engaging the universe of Star Trek is, above and beyond the weekly drama and our favorite characters.

In addition to being a fine piece of writing and a showcase for some quite good acting, "Whom Gods Destroy" was compelling for how much it told us about the setting of the show.  For though the episode takes place in the claustrophobic confines of Stage 10 on the Paramount lot, redressed to look like the prison colony of Elba, the dialogue fills in details about the show that seem to address the very beginning of the entire Federation.

When Kirk was put on trial in the episode "Court Martial", we learned that he had an award for "the Axanar peace mission".  No other details were given at the time.  In "Whom Gods Destroy", it turns out Axanar was the site of a terrific battle, one in which Fleet Captain Garth's participation was essential to victory.  Kirk recounts that he was a "newly fledged cadet" when he went on the subsequent peace mission (in a role that could not have been too momentous given his inexperience).  If Kirk is 35, which makes sense since last year he was 34, then he was a cadet probably 17 years ago, when he was 18.

And just last episode (well, last rerun), Spock related he'd been serving in Star Fleet for 17 years.

Hmm.

Add to that the fact that the Axanar accords resulted in Kirk and Spock being "brothers", and the significance of the event becomes pretty clear.


Kirk, Spock, Garth, red boa-cloak, and piggy-face: brothers, thanks to Axanar

In the first half of the first season of Trek, there were no references to the Federation.  The Enterprise was an "Earth ship" reporting to the "United Earth Space Probe Agency".  Only gradually did the words "Star Fleet" and "Federation" get bandied around with frequency.  That suggests that the United Federation of Planets is a fairly new nation.

I deduce that Axanar was some sort of titanic conflict between what would be the major races of the Federation: the humans, the Vulcans, the Andorians, the Tellarites, the Orionids, and all the rest.  It might even have resulted in a defeat for the Vulcanians—the "conquering" to which McCoy refers in "Conscience of the King".  But now, the UFP is like a United Nations with teeth, ensuring harmony among the myriad worlds that have banded together in the name of peace.

Garth, a soldier's soldier, and maddened by a grievous injury, could not stomach this clemency, so he tried to incite an insurrection on Antos IV.  Happily, the Antosians were having none of it, lest the shaky foundations of the Federation be toppled even as they were laid.

After Axanar, Kirk became an explorer first, and a soldier second.  Now that Garth is on the way to recovery, perhaps he can join Kirk on that noble expedition to the stars.


About face


by Lorelei Marcus

It is not often that our Captain Kirk submits readily to another person.  He gives his respect to direct Starfleet superiors, but to an esteemed alien passenger or important civilian escort, he shows only the required amount of deference, and sometimes less.  Even when he or his ship is threatened with mortal danger, he refuses to buckle to the whims of any supposedly all-powerful being, often to his own detriment.

Yet, in "Whom Gods Destroy", Kirk not only lacks hostility towards his captor, but in fact follows Garth's orders and tries to reach an understanding with him through exclusively nonviolent means.  One could argue this was merely Kirk acting out of self-preservation, as Garth could have killed him with a phaser at any time.  However, in a similar episode, "Plato's Stepchildren" Kirk relentlessly resisted the physical control of the Platonians, almost to his death. He is not one to give in easily, if at all.

Then why the change in temperament with Garth?  I postulate two reasons.  First, Garth is a former starship captain and Federation hero.  Kirk grew up reading of his exploits and admires Garth as a man of greater rank and accomplishment.  Even in his delusional state, Garth still invokes an awe that commands obedience, even from Kirk.

Second, Kirk understands that Garth is mentally ill and doesn't hold him accountable for his actions.  When dealing with other enemies, Kirk is unyielding from his position of righteousness.  Other foes act horrendously, with full intent and cognizance, justifying Kirk's equally stubborn resistance.

But Garth does not truly know what he's doing, at least not the Garth Kirk worships and admires, and he's better dealt with using a soft hand.  Ironically, this ends up being the wrong choice.  On multiple occasions, Kirk tries to reason with Garth and talk him down.  However, his diplomacy never works—as it shouldn't, given Garth's insanity is incurable.  If not for Spock's clever ruse and confidence with his phaser, they might never have escaped the prison.


Kirk gives diplomacy the old college try

Between the acting and the development of Federation history, "Whom Gods Destroy" makes for an excellent bottle-esque episode.

5 stars.



by Mx. Blue Cathey-Thiele

Second Verse, Same as the First

GARTH: You wrote that?
MARTA: Yesterday, as a matter of fact.
GARTH: It was written by an Earth man named Shakespeare a long time ago!
MARTA: Which does not alter the fact that I wrote it again yesterday! I think it's one of my best poems, don't you?

Kirk seems destined to watch his heroes fail. Professors and peers from the Academy, fellow officers, esteemed scientists. Time and time again, he expects better from his fellow humans, and is met instead by (mostly) men who think that the only issue with ultimate authority and unchecked ambition is the personal failings of previous tyrants.

“It has been said that history repeats itself. This is perhaps not quite correct; it merely rhymes.” -Theodor Reik

Even with all the horrors he has encountered, perhaps even in spite of them, he is quick to declare a paradise, to look for the best in others. The rank of Starship Captain must demand a degree of ego, surely, to be capable of commanding over 400 persons, making life-or-death decisions, and being the first to approach previously unknown species and planets. Setting the stage for humanity and the Federation is a doozy of a first impression! A sense of confidence is a must, then.

We have seen Kirk mishandle situations, fall prey to his own weaknesses. But he also relies on Spock and McCoy to check him. Is it enough? After peers and mentors keep making the same mistakes with catastrophic repercussions… is it telling of the system, of the people, or both? Just what sort of curriculum does the Academy promote, that so many graduates have gone on to lose perspective, take over planets, view tyrants from history as inspiration, reconstruct fascist regimes? To repeat the mistakes and tragedy of history, thinking that this time they can do things right.


Starfleet: molding megalomaniacs for more than 20 years!

Consider Dr. Daystrom's desperate need to achieve again, at the cost of lives in war games with his M5. Or Lt. McGivers, so enamored with how men “used to be” that even as a historian who knew of Khan, she was easily swayed. Remember Dr. Adams who used a neural neutralizer to gain complete control of Tantalus, or Gary Mitchell declaring himself a god upon gaining psychic powers? And of course we can't forget John Gill, a historian and teacher so sure of his ability to do it the 'right way' that he recreated the Nazi regime. Kirk and his colleagues have stumbled to different degrees over the Great Man theory, the notion that history hinges on exceptional individuals.

More importantly, on dismissing those who aren't Great Men. Only the fact that his crew mutinied saved the planet of Antos 4 when Captain Garth was unable to handle the rejection. And yet, without his crew, he could do nothing. (Mutiny! As recently as in The Tholian Web, there is no recorded instance of such on a starship.) The story was written before, it will be written again. Abuse finds home in authority. Once one thinks of people as something less than human (or in Trek, alien), it is possible to justify any number of injustices.

Much of this episode was a re-wording of what has been said before, and usually said better. It wasn't terrible, but I'd like a key-change, at least.

3 stars



[Come join us tonight (January 10th) for the next thrilling episode of Star Trek!  KGJ is broadcasting the show live with commercials and accompanied by trekzine readings at 8pm Eastern and Pacific.  You won't want to miss it…]




[November 14, 1966] Star Trek: "The Corbomite Maneuver"

A Strange Step Backward


by Gideon Marcus

With the round robin review format we've set up for Star Trek, everyone's obligations are pretty small, with the exception of the person assigned the head: the first, summarizing piece of the article.  I drew the short straw this week, possibly the most challenging week in the history of this new show.

Because a summary's job is to explain what happened.  And in "The Corbomite Maneuver", virtually nothing happened. 

Repeatedly.

The episode boils down to this: The Enterprise travels into an unexplored area of space. An alien ship intercepts the Earth ship, traps it, and threatens to destroy it.  The alien ship takes many guises — first a multicolored cube, then a giant globe of incandescent lights, then a set of glowing soap bubbles (admittedly gorgeous effects), but the scenario is always the same.  The Enterprise tries to break free, dramatic music plays, people fall out of their chairs or bounce around in hallways. The navigator-of-the-week, this time a ‘Lieutenant Bailey’ (anxious, overeager, promoted too early) occasionally has a breakdown. Lieutenant Uhura says "Hailing Frequencies open" a half dozen times, looking rather bored.


"I should have stayed with Ma Bell…"

Eventually, we learn that the whole thing was a test. The alien, Balok of the First Federation (Ron Howard's little brother), never planned to destroy the Enterprise. On the one hand, I appreciate an episode without a villain, one that challenges the hubris that we are the most powerful or the kindest race in the galaxy.

On the other hand, once we know that Kirk and his crew were never in danger, everything becomes a cheat.  The tension, the clever attempts to outmaneuver Balok (with warp engines or poker metaphors), all of it is meaningless.

Add to that a certain unevenness of the episode.  It is pretty clear this episode was filmed before the others we've seen in the series. Spock is yelling again, is wearing his old uniform, and his haircut is more severe.  Shatner has less of a grip on the Kirk character, playing him on a short fuse. As with "Where No Man has Gone Before", everything feels rawer, cheaper, more like an episode of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea.  Perhaps it was the consciously military mien of the scenario and character interactions.

All this kvetching suggests I didn't like the episode.  That's not quite right. There are some great exchanges, particularly any involving DeForest Kelley (Dr. McCoy). George Takei's Sulu is a delight, with a lot of great subtle expressions. Yeoman Rand got an entire episode free of assault (though Kirk resents her existence as a woman). The special effects are really excellent, and probably the reason the episode got delayed. 


That's a really big Christmas ornament…

But for the most part, I was just kind of bored. That's a new experience for me with Star Trek, which has hitherto been either great or problematic. However, if "Maneuver" really is an early episode, that means we're actually on an upward rather than a downward trend. Plus, next week's episode, which looks like it will incorporate the terrific first pilot, is very promising.

So, three stars, but I won't hold it against the show.


Zero-Sum Game


by Janice L. Newman

As Gideon notes, The Corbomite Maneuver was a, shall we say, uneven episode. The first time the ship was ‘about to be destroyed’ it was exciting. By the third time, it was definitely less impactful. On the other hand, the story had plenty of great moments. The problem was, these ended up undermining each other.

For example, Captain Kirk pulls off a wonderful bluff where he apparently convinces the enemy that destroying their ship will result in the destruction of their own vessel – the bluff being the titular ‘Corbomite Maneuver’. It’s a desperate, brilliant moment that would have made a fantastic climax for the episode. Everything, from Spock saying that it was ‘well-played’, to Bailey returning to the bridge, to Kirk’s sigh of relief when the ship is not destroyed (not to mention McCoy’s overeager offer to teach Spock the game of poker) makes for a great piece of television.


The gambit pays off.

Unfortunately, it’s not the climax of the episode – or rather, it’s the climax, but not the end. And then, when we do reach the end of the story, we learn something which by itself would have made for a clever plot twist. It turns out that the entire set of encounters were orchestrated by a single entity, a powerful being who claims that it was ‘all a test’.

This is something we haven’t seen before. Yes, in Where No Man Has Gone Before and Charlie X we had immensely powerful beings, be they humans or aliens. And in The Cage we did see powerful alien minds manipulating humans to try to get something from them. But we’ve never seen (presumably benevolent) aliens simply ‘testing’ humans to learn their ‘real intentions’. It would have been a great reversal, if only it hadn’t undermined everything which had come before. The clever parts of the story, rather than building on each other, unfortunately canceled each other out.


"Just kidding!"

Lieutenant Bailey's interactions with the captain rang an odd note in the episode. Kirk's "tough love" attitude toward him reminded me strongly of the captain in "The Bedford Incident", and I kept half-expecting Bailey to fire the ship's 'phasers' when he wasn't supposed to (instead he did the opposite, freezing in the moment of crisis).

I do want to make several notes about special effects. First, the lights making up alien ships were extremely effective (and I understand these effects were so involved that they delayed the release of this episode, which was meant to be much earlier in the line up). Second, the figure of Commander Balock that appeared on the Enterprise’s screen was an unconvincing one, yet it was plausible enough for our generation — after all, we were raised on puppet shows and other primitive special effects. The fact that the episode’s writer subverted these expectations and made the figure an actual puppet was absolutely ingenious. And third, the best special effect in the entire show had to be the dubbing of little Clint Howard with an adult’s voice.


"You Have Two Minutes Until Howdy Doody Time!"

3 stars, for the special effects, the cleverness, and the banter.


Off Kilter


by Lorelei Marcus

I enjoyed the overall message of "The Corbomite Maneuver", but I felt the episode had to make some sacrifices to get there.  In particular, the atmosphere of the ship and everyone's characterizations were severely altered from what we've seen thus far.  Captain Kirk seemed forced into the role of the hard-edged, authoritarian Captain.  The women of the crew were more stereotypically portrayed, pushed aside even, so that the men could have their dramatic moments.  Uhura looks bored.  Yeoman Rand exists to make coffee and salad and annoy Captain Kirk by being a woman.  All in all, the Enterprise felt much more current-day Navy in portrayal, and more militaristic in character.


"Did I say 'at ease', mister?"

The special effects were, as has been noted, a cut above.  But I would have liked to have seen this story told with the same Enterprise we're coming to know and love, rather than this odd, warped one, seemingly created to fit the plot's needs. 

With a mid-tier story, great visuals, and inconsistent characterization, I give "Corbomite" three stars.



by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

A Different Kind of Man Behind the Curtain

When I first heard Balok speak in this week’s episode, his voice reminded me of Frank Morgan’s booming performance in The Wizard of Oz (1939). The imagery and tactics reminded me of it as well: flowing curtains of light cascaded over Balok’s alien face, the crew of the Enterprise scrambling to bargain and trick their way out of the crisis as a seemingly all-powerful wizard holding hapless visitors to arbitrary and impossible rules.

When we found that, like The Great and Powerful Oz, Balok was a small man, pulling puppet strings to intimidate and test those around him, the twist felt familiar. But that moment was also where these two fantasies diverged: where the Wizard is venal and greedy, Balok is confident and curious. He is not a huckster, but a representative of a technologically-advanced society, able to control a vast space edifice from his tiny ship, and interested in learning the truth about the crew of the Enterprise.

While Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Lion, and the Tin Man beg the Wizard to make them whole and take them home, Kirk, McCoy and Bailey don’t need any such boons from Balok. But he offers them anyway, opening up the possibility of cultural exchange between his First Federation and Kirk’s crew. Bailey, who had spent most of the episode as a cowardly lion, gracefully agrees to the exchange as the episode closes.


"We're off to see the Wizard!"

The parallels are not perfect — though if Mr.Spock had filled out the boarding party in the role of the Tin Man seeking a heart he already has, it might have been — but they are productive. Like the friends of Dorothy, Bailey, McCoy, and Spock spend the episode trying to free themselves from traps and get what they think they need. And like the Scarecrow, the Lion, and the Tin Man, in the end, the powers they were seeking to work around were not what they seemed.

I liked that, in this case, the powers were greater. Perhaps, if Balok had been behind the curtain in Oz, Dorothy and company would have gotten more than toys, but the true connection and understanding they needed in their journeys. I hope that future episodes are more even in tone, but also that they continue to expand our views of the universe the way Balok will for Bailey.

Three stars.





[January 16, 1965] What a Difference a Year Makes (The Outer Limits, Season 2, Episodes 13-17)


by Natalie Devitt

About this time last year, I was writing glowing reviews about The Outer Limits. It is a little disappointing that it is already time to say goodbye to the show. But with a number of changes behind the scenes, a new timeslot that certainly has not helped with ratings, and good episodes becoming few and far between, it does not entirely come as a surprise that the show did not even make it through a full second season. That said, it is with some sadness that I look back at the final five offerings from The Outer Limits.

The Duplicate Man, by Robert C. Dennis

In this adaptation of Clifford D. Simak’s 1951 story Goodnight, Mr. James, it is the year 2025 and “an alien life of unimaginable horror” called a Megasoid is on the loose, despite the fact that Megasoids “haven’t been permitted since 1986.” The creature is living in an exhibit at the Space Zoological Garden, unbeknownst to the site’s staff or visitors. Luckily, the Megasoid is currently less of a threat to the general public due to the fact that it is in the middle of its “reproductive cycle.“ Once the cycle ends, the alien’s instinct to kill reactivates.

It is up to the man responsible for bringing the Megasoid to Earth, a researcher named Henderson James, performed by Ron Randell of 1961’s King of Kings, to hunt the creature down. Rather than put himself in danger, James hatches a plan, which involves creating a duplicate of himself that can be “programmed to find and kill a Megasoid.” But he has to be careful because duplicates can be very realistic, with the ability to recall more and more of the original person’s memories the longer they exist, which can make it nearly impossible to differentiate between the two. This means that the duplicate must be destroyed as soon as its task has been completed. Unfortunately for James, that does not quite happen before the doppleganger has an opportunity to meet his wife, played by the lovely Constance Towers, who I must say has been making some interesting movies with director Samuel Fuller lately.

The premise of this episode could work in the right hands. Here, there are too many pieces that never quite seem to quite fit together; perhaps it simply tries too hard. Artistically, it certainly is ambitious, with its very stylized lighting, atmospheric musical score provided by Harry Lubin, great filming locations (which include the Chemosphere in Los Angeles), and some shots which appear to be fairly carefully composed. The costume design, while sometimes odd, takes some bold risks. On the topic of odd costumes, the episode’s creature looks a cross between a bird and a gorilla.

The dialogue and performances can be awkward at times. Even though it is a misfire, I have to give the show some praise for trying with The Duplicate Man. Two and a half stars, mainly for the art direction and production design.

Counterweight, by Milton Krims

Counterweight is based on the short story by the same name from writer Jerry Sohl. In this telling of his story, a group of five men, which include Michael Constantine (The Twilight Zone’s I am the Night- Color Me Black) and one woman, played by Jacqueline Scott (The Outer Limits’s The Galaxy Being), participate in an experiment that spans several months, a simulated journey in space to a planet called Antheon, in hopes of winning a cash prize. Inside their mock spacecraft is a panic button that anyone on board can press at any time for any reason if they want out of the experiment. In the event that the panic button is pressed, the entire experiment is terminated, and each of them goes home empty-handed. Once aboard, it is not long before strange and difficult to explain things begin happening to each of the crew members and they all start to blame one another, which jeopardizes the fate of the experiment. Is it all psychosomatic or is an outside force trying to sabotage them?

Perfectly good actors can not save Counterweight from itself, probably because there is absolutely no character development. Instead what we have is stereotypes, like the uneducated construction worker or the lonely spinster career woman. Growing worse as it unfolds, the hour’s final act is an absolute disaster, aside from a brief but memorable appearance by a much more entertaining stop motion plant creature.

Those factors combined with some seriously slow pacing overall, makes Counterweight extremely difficult to watch from start to finish. Having said that, there are a few effectively spooky moments, especially when each of the characters is trying to fall asleep, while unknowingly being targeted by a mysterious entity. Also, during these sequences, the musical score is especially effective. Still, one and a half stars is about all I can offer to Counterweight.

The Brain of Colonel Barham, by Robert C. Dennis

The United States is eager to be the first country to put a man on Mars. Colonel Barham (Anthony Eisley of Hawaiian Eye), with his “specialized knowledge about space technology”, is the perfect man for the job. The only problem is that he has been diagnosed with a terminal illness. His superiors in the military think they have the solution to solve everyone’s problems, so they propose that “his brain would be saved, perhaps forever, only the diseased, worn-out body would be discarded.“ Barham’s brain would then be attached to devices and sent into space.

Barham decides to save his precious brain and all of the esoteric information it contains. Once the procedure is completed, it is stored in a vat and hooked up to machines, which allow his brain to communicate with others. A short time later, it begins “developing new tissue.” It turns out there is an unforeseen complication of removing the brain from the body: it grows increasingly difficult to control. Anthony Eisley’s former Hawaiian Eye cast mate and star of 1957's The Incredible Shrinking Man, Grant Williams, also appears in the episode as a psychologist.

I love a good brain-in-a-jar story as much as the next girl, but this is not exactly the best rendition of the concept that I have seen. Sure, The Brain of Colonel Barham has its share of enjoyable silliness, but the episode is often bogged down by Barham’s cruelness. The voice-over used for Barham’s voice once his brain is removed is laughably bad, too. Two stars.

The Premonition, by Ib Melchior and Sam Roeca

When pilot Jim Darcy, played by Dewey Martin (The Thing from Another World (1951) and The Twilight Zone’s I Shot an Arrow Into the Sky) crashes his test plane at the exact same moment his wife, Linda (1953's The Wild One's Mary Murphy), loses control behind the wheel, time suddenly freezes, or so it seems. Reunited outside of time, they are given a glimpse of life ten seconds into the future. What they find is their daughter only seconds away from being hit by a truck. Do they try to intervene, even if it means that they risk remaining stuck in time?

Another time-related story from Ib Melchior (The Time Travelers, 1964), The Premonition is very flawed. Yet it is also easily the episode out of this entire batch that has stayed with me the most after viewing it, even though I must confess I did not care much for the character Jim.

The special effects are decent, though do not always stack up against last season's effects. There is also the fairly creative use of still photographs to explore time, which kind of reminds me of Chris Marker’s La Jetée (1962). Being a huge fan of the Left Bank directors from the French New Wave, that sort of thing is right up my alley. Much like many art house films, it leaves the viewer with a number of questions, but somehow I do not really mind. All in all, this hour of the series earns three stars from me.

The Probe, by Seeleg Lester

While aboard a plane flying over Japan, a crew, which includes actors Mark Richman (revisiting The Outer Limits for the first time since The Borderland), television western actor Ron Hayes and Juvenile Oscar winner Peggy Ann Garner, find themselves in a hurricane. After abandoning their plane, they incorrectly assume they are floating in their life raft, only to discover that they are not on water at all. They have actually been captured and are being held in a space probe. To make matters worse, they are being stalked by a strange creature, which they later believe to be “a mutant, a strain of germ that grew, and grew, and grew” that is also capable of duplicating itself.

I have some mixed feelings about The Probe. On the one hand, it can be incredibly corny, with its absolutely ludicrous creature, a microbe. During the scene where it duplicated itself, I nearly laughed so hard that I cried. On the other hand, the entry probably has the most convincing bunch of actors playing the most likeable, fleshed out cast of characters that I have seen on the program over the past five weeks, including the single most memorable female character.

Now, I am not usually one to get on my soapbox, but The Outer Limits has seemed to be growing less progressive in its depiction of women over the course of the second season, mostly relegated to playing nagging wives, victims or sad career women. Last season, the female characters were allowed to be much more complex and sympathetic, so Peggy Ann Garner’s character is a breath of fresh air. As a whole, I am not completely sold by The Probe, especially since it drags a little in the middle. Nevertheless, it is fairly entertaining, with actors who bring a degree of believability to even the weakest scenes, which is why it earns two and a half stars.

What now?

Reflecting on the last five entries of The Outer Limits, and on the series as a whole, The Duplicate Man was not as rewarding as it could have been, Counterweight had few redeeming qualities, The Brain of Colonel Barham could be amusing at times, The Premonition was worth the watch, and The Probe was nearly saved by its great cast. While there certainly were some great episodes from time to time towards the end of the program's run, this is pretty representative of the second season of The Outer Limits. A show that I truly hate to say became a shell of its former self.

Sadly, this was not the farewell anyone could have wanted for the series, especially since its departure (and the ending of Alfred Hitchcock Presents this spring) means an end to more than a decade of science fiction/fantasy/horror anthology shows.

When will we ever see their like again?



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[November 13, 1964] Beat the Devil (The Outer Limits, Season Two, Episodes 5-8)


by Natalie Devitt

Take Two

You may recall that the first month of the second season of The Outer Limits marked a big shift in the series, not just because the show experienced a number of major changes behind the scenes, but because the program only produced one truly memorable entry, The Soldier. Has the show returned to greatness or even surpassed expectations since we last met? Join me for a closer look at the latest from The Outer Limits.

Demon with a Glass Hand, by Harlan Ellison

Demon with a Glass Hand marks Robert Culp’s third appearance on The Outer Limits, after his previous roles in The Architects of Fear and Corpus Earthling. The third time is absolutely a charm. In this episode, Culp transforms into Trent, a man who recalls nothing of his past, but in the present is being pursued by human-like extraterrestrials called the Kyben.

The Kyben are after Trent to gain possession of his glass computerized hand, which “holds all knowledge.” His hand speaks, providing guidance to Trent to help him avoid capture. The Kyben already possess three of his fingers, which Trent needs in order to collect more information about his past. Along the way, he meets and is helped by a charming seamstress, Consuelo Biros, played by Arlene Martel of The Twilight Zone episodes Twenty Two and What You Need.

Harlan Ellison has done it again. Just like with The Soldier, Ellison‘s writing has helped The Outer Limits dive much deeper into science fiction. Ellison combines a lot of different things that, in the hands of a less skilled writer, might not work as well as they do here. The episode has an interesting premise, drama, action, and just a little bit of everything. Culp and Martel deliver spectacular performances. Back in the director’s chair is Byron Haskin, director of The War of The Worlds (1953) and this summer’s Robinson Crusoe on Mars.

I do have one complaint, though, which is that the makeup and costumes for the Kyben (essentially mime foundation, raccoon eye shadow, and white body suits) look very uninspired, especially after all the intricate makeup and elaborate costumes used to create different creatures last season. One thing that Demon with a Glass Hand certainly has going for it, however, is its location. Los Angeles’ Bradbury Building, which was also used in the noir classic D.O.A. (1949), heightens the episode’s film noir atmosphere. The special effects and the musical score are great, and everything is topped off with an interesting twist at the end. Demon with a Glass Hand has a cinematic quality to it, which is why it earns four and a half stars.

Cry of Silence, by Robert C. Dennis

Andy (Academy Award nominee Eddie Albert) and Karen Thorne (veteran actress June Havoc) take a trip from their current home in the city to the small town Wild Canyon to get a look at a property that they are considering purchasing. While driving, their convertible hits a large rock, leaving the couple stranded. As Andy assesses the damage, Karen falls down a hill and injures her ankle. Andy is unable to carry his wife back uphill to their car. Karen, being the more perceptive one in the relationship, begins to notices that some nearby tumbleweeds seem to be closing in on them. Andy expresses doubt, until the tumbleweeds begin to randomly fly at the them despite there being no wind. Karen fears the tumbleweeds are controlled by some kind of “force.”

Andy and Karen decide to build a campfire for the night, which is spotted by a man named Lamont, performed by character actor Arthur Honeycutt (The Twilight Zone’s The Hunt). Lamont invites the Thornes back to his farmhouse. He tells them that since a recent meteorite fall, the number of tumbleweeds in town has dramatically increased, his livestock have disappeared, and his telephone and electricity have stopped working. Lamont suspects that “there is a malignant intelligence in the weeds” and it will prevent any of them from leaving the canyon. Is it a demonic presence, or simply extraterrestrials too alien to effectively communicate?

What Cry of Silence lacks in artistry, it almost makes up for in charm. With its menacing tumbleweeds and killer flying bullfrogs, Cry of Silence is probably (unintentionally!) the funniest offering of the series thus far, even though I know Controlled Experiment attempted (deliberately) to add a little humor into the often dark and serious show. This entry does succeed in creating a few genuinely spooky moments, especially as the characters lock themselves inside Lamont’s farmhouse and the being from space begins to possess Lamont's body, but its just hard to sustain the terror for long when people are being stalked by tumbleweeds, and eventually rocks and frogs. The episode’s weak writing is improved a little by actors who play their roles with conviction, sometimes a little too much conviction. Objectively, it is not the greatest episode, but it can be fun, so two and half stars for Cry of Silence .

The Invisible Enemy, by Jerry Sohl

Adam West (Robinson Crusoe on Mars) plays Major Charles Merritt, who with his fellow astronauts, set out on an expedition to Mars to determine what became of a crew that landed on Mars three years earlier but never returned to Earth. It has been assumed that some kind of ghost is the only explanation for the last group’s disappearance. But when the latest crew arrives, they discover something that swims towards them from underneath the planet’s sandy surface, like “a blood-thirsty shark in the ocean.” To make matters worse, it turns out that there is not just one creature, but an entire “army of them.”

The Invisible Enemy is so very slow. Most of its characters are not terribly smart or likeable. There were also a number of weak performances by otherwise decent actors. Scientifically, The Invisible Enemy has quite a few problems. I got a kick out of things like one of the astronauts saying that helmets are not needed on Mars.

That said, this installment of the series is incredibly atmospheric. Kenneth Peach’s photography of the exterior shots of Mars’ surface combined with the set design, sound effects and the screeching violins in the musical score make for some beautifully eerie moments. But all of that comes crashing down the second that one of the growling space fish comes swimming by with their ridiculous claws extended out of the sand. Sure, they are not quite Creature from the Haunted Sea (1961) bad, but pretty bad. Two stars, mainly for the production design and art direction.

Wolf 359, by Seeleg Lester

Wolf 359 is the story of scientist Jonathan Meridith (Patrick O’Neal of The Twilight Zone’s A Short Drink from a Certain Fountain), who has recreated a smaller version of much larger existing planet “eight light years away” in his lab. Jonathan calls it Dundee Planet. Time moves faster on Dundee: from a primordial state, the planet experiences changes in weather and begins to show signs of life. Its new form life begins evolving at a fast rate and even senses when others are watching it.

Jonathan is excited to be able to “watch evolution at work.” However, his wife, Ethel (Sara Shane of Douglas Sirk’s Magnificent Obsession (1954)) calls the creature “pure evil.” Eventually, Jonathan pushes away his wife and lab assistant rather than “expose them to the dangers of this creature.”

Wolf 359 is not the first nor best episode of The Outer Limits involving a scientist speeding up evolution, but it is interesting, even if it is not entirely successful. The episode is generally nice to look at and had some decent performances. It certainly has an odd if less than effective creature, which resembles a floating white glove. The writing is not quite strong enough to carry such an ambitious concept. Wolf 359 is worth the watch, but not quite good, so two and half stars.

Prognosis

The Outer Limits is not quite firing on all cylinders, but it has improved a little over the course of the past month. Looking back at it, there was the terrific Demon with a Glass Hand, Cry of Silence was amusing, The Invisible Enemy often looked great but lacked substance, and Wolf 359 almost had something. All in all, most episodes were intriguing, even if they were not as strong as they had potential to be.

Is it enough to warrant renewal?


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[November 29, 1963] An old doll's new tricks (Twilight Zone, Season 5, Episodes 5-8)


by Natalie Devitt

The latest season of The Twilight Zone is back in full swing, complete with great storytelling and acting that still outshines most other shows on the air. For those of you who may not be staying up every Friday night to catch The Twlilight Zone, allow me to bring you up to speed.

The Last Night of a Jockey, by Rod Serling

In The Last Night of a Jockey, Mickey Rooney plays Michael Grady, a man who has based his self worth on his success as a jockey. When he is suspended from racing after being accused of race fixing, he isolates himself in his tiny apartment. All alone, he dwells on his fears that his career is over. After having devoted to his life to the race track, he worries that he will be left with few career opportunities, except perhaps as a driver to a horse-drawn carriage in Central Park.

Grady is small in stature, and this experience leaves Grady feeling even smaller, so he wishes one night to be taller. The next morning, he wakes up to find his feet hanging over his bed. He looks in the mirror and sees how he towers over everything in his studio apartment. Initially pleased with his sudden growth spurt, he declares, “I’m big, honey, you understand that? I’m b-i-g.” As the story progresses, he begins to realize that everything in life is a trade-off.

The Last Night of a Jockey feels like a bit like a chamber play. It all takes place in one room. Rooney is the only actor who is ever shown on screen, so Grady reveals information about himself and his feelings by either speaking to himself or through phone conversations, where the other characters are never present. The episode is only a half an hour, but even that felt a little too long because The Last Night of a Jockey does not have much going on visually. It could have used a little more emphasis on the lighting or maybe different camera angles to make it look less flat. The script relies almost too much on dialogue, which I hate to say because I like dialogue driven stories, but it can be difficult to do effectively when the other person’s reactions are never shown. In addition, The Last Night of a Jockey suffers from being one of the less effective The Twilight Zone entries with the message “be careful what you wish for.”

Having said that, Rooney really shows his dramatic range as Grady. His role in The Last Night of a Jockey stands in stark contrast to his breakout performance as Andy Hardy in all of MGM’s Hardy films. The Last Night of a Jockey receives two and a half stars from me, which is entirely for Mickey Rooney’s performance.

Living Doll, by Charles Beaumont

Living Doll tells the story of Talky Tina, a doll that, you guessed it, talks. Tina has recently found a new home with a little girl named Christie. Christie lives with her mother, played by Bye Bye Birdie’s Mary Laroche and stepfather, portrayed by Birdman of Alcatraz’s Telly Savalas. She and her stepfather, Erich, have struggled to build a relationship with one another. When Christie, played by little Tracy Stratford, first receives Tina, the doll seems like any wind-up toy, telling her, “I love you very much.” However, when Christie’s stepfather is alone with the doll, he soon realizes through a series of not so subtle hints that Tina is no ordinary doll. The first of which is her telling him, “My name is Talky Tina and I don’t think I like you.” Shortly after that, the doll winks at him. Testing the doll, he lights a match in its face and threatens to hurt to hurt her, only for Tina to react with, “Not really, but I could hurt you.”

Erich grows more and more suspicious each time he sees the doll. At one point, he theorizes that his wife has installed a walkie-talkie in the doll as some sort of prank, but he soon finds holes in that theory. Things continue to escalate. Fed up, Erich throws the doll in the trash. Thinking he is finally free from Tina, he receives a phone call with what sounds like Tina on the other end, now threatening, “My name is Talky Tina and I am going to kill you.” Startled by this, Erich checks on his stepdaughter in her bedroom, where he finds Tina next to Christie in bed. Things erupt into an all out war as he confronts Tina, but can he defeat a seemingly indestructible doll?

Living Doll is interesting because it can be looked from different angles. Is the doll’s behavior a reflection of Christie’s feelings towards her stepfather or rather or a reflection of Erich’s own insecurities? The story never really answers all of my questions, which I think makes the episode all the more frightening. Dolls, especially porcelain ones, can be scary, perhaps due to their incredibly life-like appearance. The episode certainly brings to mind Michael Redgrave’s living dummy in Dead of Night, and I would imagine that The Twilight Zone fans would probably be reminded of The Dummy.

The already strong story is topped off by very believable performances by all of the actors involved. Living Doll is easily one of the strongest episodes of the season, which is why I rate it at four stars.

The Old Man in the Cave, by Rod Serling

It is the year 1974, ten years since a nuclear war. One group of people who have survived it have had difficulty finding a reliable food source. When they finally do find some canned goods, conflict arises. Is it worth the risk to eat food that could have been exposed to radiation? To settle things, they look to the title character: the old man in the cave, a mysterious entity. The men and women in the group never see him, but he always gives reliable advice. His track record is so good that when word returns that the food is not safe, the people decide not to take a gamble on the possibly contaminated food.

Not long after, some soldiers, led by The Magnificent Seven’s James Coburn, arrive in town. Coburn plays the role of Major French. French and his men claim to know of other survivors, but he may not be completely trustworthy and could just be after the cans of food. Nevertheless, this sows the seeds of doubt and leads some folks in the town to question the old man’s words.

The Old Man in the Cave seems like it could be about anything — from religion to politics to technology. In addition, it could easily be about hardwired human behavior. In fact, the episode lends itself to so many different interpretations, which is what I think makes it an interesting watch. The work of actors like James Coburn and John Anderson do not hurt, either. While The Old Man in the Cave is not as strong as other The Twilight Zone tales that have taken place in a post-apocalyptic world, such as Time Enough at Last, it certainly is a worthy entry to the series. I happily give it three stars.

Uncle Simon, by Rod Serling

How much can a person take? This question never left my mind while watching Uncle Simon, an episode directed by Don Siegel, director of 1956's Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Television actress Constance Ford stars as Barbara, a woman who has devoted her life to caring for her cruel elderly uncle Simon, perfectly cast as theater and film actor Cedric Hardwicke. Each day Barbara endures insult after insult from her uncle. It may one day pay off when Simon passes away and she inherits his fortune, but is it worth the days she spends dutifully by his side at every beck and call until that day comes? When Simon is not busy looking for any reason to put Barbara down, he spends his time in the basement, working on an invention that he goes to great lengths to keep secret from Barbara.

One day Barbara decides that she is going to find out exactly her uncle is working on down in the basement, but he catches her breaking into his lab, which results in an altercation. Simon falls and Barbara allows him to die as a result of his injuries. After he passes away, Barbara is not really free from her uncle after all. In fact, the terms of his will state that she must care for his secret invention, which Barbara comes to find out is a robot, in order to inherit his estate. Simon has figured out a way to keep her trapped, even in death.

Uncle Simon is pretty depressing and difficult to watch. It’s easy to say Barbara should leave, but I am willing to bet most of us have had situations in life that where we tolerate things for much longer than we should, which is part of what makes this story so depressing. Simon certainly has a lot of memorable one-liners, some of which are quite good while others are a tad silly.

On the bright side, Uncle Simon does have Robby the Robot. I must add that while I sometimes complain that The Twilight Zone reuses too many things from Forbidden Planet and I know I sometimes fail to take into account the budget for television, the robot designed by Robert Kinoshita was very welcome, and certainly made a dark episode a little brighter. While not bad, Uncle Simon is a bit draining emotionally. Maybe that shows its effectiveness. I could just be the tone of this entry that I find so off-putting. In any case, I am going to have to I give it two stars.

All in all, The Twilight Zone continues to move along, with stories that still intrigue and challenge its audience. Living Doll and The Old Man in the Cave are certainly great examples. I must say that I look forward to the episodes that are still forthcoming.






[Jan. 08, 1960] Between Peaks (January 1960 If)

I've finally finished the January 1960 IF and can report fully on its contents.  January has been a decidedly uninspiring month for digests.  They're all in the 3-star range (though for Astounding, that's actually a good month!) with no knockouts in the bunch.  Perhaps this is the calm before the storm.

The reliable if stolid Mack Reynolds (writing as Mark Mallory) kicks off this issue with The Good Seed.  Can a man trapped on a tiny island by a swelling tide escape before he is drowned?  Perhaps with the help of a sentient, telepathic plant.  It's actually quite a touching story.

James Stamers seems to be a newcomer, and it shows in his unpolished writing.  Despite this, his The Divers, about psionic neutrals (essentially anti-telepaths) with the ability to astrally project, has some fascinating ideas and some genuinely evocative scenes.  Had Stamers given the tale to Sturgeon to work over for a final edit, I think it could have been an epic.  As it is, the story suggests that its author is a diamond in the rough waiting to be polished.

Two Ulsterians, Bob Shaw and Walt Willis, wrote the short Dissolute Diplomat, about an unsavory space traveler who crashes on an alien world, bullies the jelly-ish inhabitants into fixing his ship, and then gets what he deserves in a groan-worthy fashion that is truly pun-ishing.

The Little Red Bag, by Jerry Sohl, is a good piece of thrilling writing, at least until the somewhat callous and abrupt end.  A fellow on a plane has the power of tactile clairvoyance—and he discovers a ticking time bomb in the luggage compartment.  Can he save the passengers before it goes off?  Having flown the route that the plane takes many times (Southerly down California into Los Angeles), the setting is quite familiar, which is always fun.

Daniel Galouye (how do you pronounce his name?) is up next with the interesting teleportation yarn, The Last Leap.  Three military subjects have gone AWOL after artificially gaining the ability to materialize anywhere.  Surely they were not killed–after all, even the vacuum of space poses no danger, for the 'porters reflexively snap back to a safe spot; moreover, they instinctively avoid teleporting into solid objects.  What could have happened?  You find out in the end…

To Each His Own, by Jack Sharkey, stars a team of Venusians who explore the Earth after a recent holocaust.  The nature of said disaster is never made explicit until the very end, though it is alluded to subtly.  I confess that I should have figured out the gimmick ending, but I didn't.  I suppose that constitutes a point in the author's favor.

Margaret St. Clair has a fun story (The Autumn after Next) about a magical missionary whose job is to convert magic-less cultures into adepts at the Arts.  He meets his match, and his end, attempting to introduce the most reluctant of tribes to the supernatural.  Better than The Scarlet Hexapod, not as good as Discipline, both IF stories.

Finally, we have Cultural Exchange by J.F. Bone wherein a crew of space explorers meets a sophisticated alien race with both superior and inferior technologies.  It is a first contact story of Cat and Mouse with both sides attempting to be the predator.  Not stellar, but satisfying.

That's that!  It's an unremarkable issue, slightly under the standards of its older sibling, Galaxy, I'd say.  Worth a read, but you won't remember it next month (unless, of course, you review my column).

Note: If you like this column, consider sharing it by whatever media you frequent most.  I love the company, and I imagine your friends share your excellent taste!

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!



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[Oct. 30, 1959] Tricks and Treats (November 1959 if Science Fiction

The new IF Science Fiction magazine, now under the Galaxy aegis, is an odd duck.  Not quite a literary book, like F&SF, not an antediluvian throwback like Astounding, and not as polished as its older brother, Galaxy, IF is nevertheless generally a worthy read.

I don’t think it’s just a repository for substandard Galaxy submissions—the stories in IF are different in style and tone.  I think, if anything, it’s more of a showcase for experimental stuff and new authors.

As such, we get to see a lot of fresh faces, but not necessarily the best tales.  Here are my impressions from the November issue, the third under Gold/Pohl’s editorial helm:

First up is If You Wish, by John Rackham, in which a confirmed bachelor botanist secluded in a space-based greenhouse, is burdened with a female-form robot assistant, with whom he (grudgingly) falls in love.  Traditionally, IF has stuck its best submissions right up front, but not this time.  It’s not bad, exactly, and there is some quite good writing in here, as well as a lot of interesting and detailed stuff on Venusian botany, but it reads a bit like a wish-fulfillment daydream.  It also strikes me as overly fannish that the robot’s name is “Susan Calvin,” and direct reference is made to Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics. 

On the other hand, the two characters are pretty well-drawn, the protagonist is unfailingly a gentleman, albeit a somewhat neurotic one, and in the end, it’s Susan who’s in control of the situation the whole time.  By the way, if you don’t spot the “twist” in the first few pages, you’re not trying.

Miriam Allen deFord has been around for a while.  Her Nor Snow Nor Rain starts out so well, but it ends with a whimper.  A retiring postal worker comes upon a mystery on his last day—the office to which he must deliver his last parcels doesn’t exist!  Being a science fiction fan (the first I’ve read about in a science fiction story, and a nice piece of portraying someone with multiple interests), he comes up with a number of explanations, which serve as effective red herrings.

Sadly, the actual explanation is the least interesting and the most hackneyed.  Again, good writing but flawed execution.

I did not like Good-by, Gloria by “Ted Bain” (really the prolific Britisher, E.C.Tubb).  Spacers working for an insufferably perfect captain decide to leave stranded an insufferably perfect female castaway, who has bootstrapped herself a la Tarzan, for fear that she and the captain will have insufferably perfect children.  It’s supposed to be funny; it comes off as heartless.  And dumb. 

The talented J.T.McIntosh’ Return of a Prodigal is an altogether different matter.  It is more bitter than sweet, but it’s also defiant and triumphant, and it stars a very compelling female lead.  In brief: about six generations from now, the Moon is colonized.  It turns out that a decent proportion of humanity suffers from incurable and potentially fatal spacesickness.  As a result, the Moon colony (the beautifully conceived and described Luna City) becomes a haven for hereditary “viaphobes,” those who cannot go anywhere else to live.  They are a proud bunch, and they refuse to admit that they have a disorder; they can leave whenever they want, they maintain.

At the tender age of 18, a girl named Clare, overshadowed by her pretty older sister, Emma, decides to go to New York on Earth and expose viaphobia publicly.  The ensuing article shames the lunar residents, and Clare is essentially banished.  Some ten years later, after a failed marriage on a colony world, Clare returns to Luna City, and that is where the story begins.

I don’t want to spoil any more, even though I do not have permission from Mr. McIntosh to distribute the tale.  All I can say is that it’s worth finding and reading.  I’m not sure if it’s a 4 or 5 star story, but I suspect I will go for 5 since there’s nothing wrong with it—it’s just a little hard to take at times.

Wynne Whiteford has the next entry: The Gelzek Business.  Alien female engineer and temptress convinces two men to back production of her gizmos despite her secretiveness regarding their actual function.  It’s an unsatisfying story, one of the weaker entries.  I’m still waiting for an unflawed Whiteford piece. 

Jerry Sohl's Counterweight, about the extreme measures taken to keep several thousand colonists sane on a year-long trip to an interstellar colony, is diverting, well-written, but unremarkable.  The solution, having one of the crew commit a slew of crimes to invoke the wrath of the passengers, seems awfully silly. 

I did enjoy E.C. Tubb's other story in this book, the thriller, Orange.  On a world with the universe's most valuable substance, guarded by a race of psionic aliens, money is king.  And the only way to make money is to own a trading concession.  One can duel a concession-holder for such a prize, which makes life interesting indeed.  This story details one such duel and the unorthodox way in which it turns out.  It's the most Galaxy-style of all of the stories in this ish, I think.

All told, the November issue comes up a 3-star mag.  This is misleading, however, given the wide inconsistency of its contents.  IF may end up being one of the greats someday.  It's certainly a damnsight better than Astounding.

Sorry about the late edition.  I didn't have much to report on before, and now my typewriter is busted.  Expect the next update in a few days.  At least the next lovely crop of magazines has arrived in my mail.

Happy Halloween, everyone!

(Note: It is not clear who drew the internal artwork–credit goes to "Harrison, Morrow, and Emsh."  I'm guessing the art for Prodigal is Emsh's.


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