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Comics

[August 12, 1965]: No Help for Help!

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By Jason Sacks

A Tale of Two Help!s

Yesterday I had the special pleasure of seeing my favorite band on the big screen once again. Of course, I'm talking about the Beatles and Help!. You gotta see it. Let me tell you, folks, the film is a laugh riot. I giggled all the way through the silly tale which has Ringo Starr chased throughout the world because he possesses a ring which is a sacred relic for a Far Eastern cult. The music is wonderful, of course, but it's also a tremendously silly flick, wackier than A Hard Day's Night. I know you've already bought the LP (which, sadly, is only about half by the Fab Four) but great as the album is, the movie is so much better. Go see Help! while you can! I certainly plan to watch it again.

Sadly, while the Beatles' Help! rides the top of the world's music charts and marks another high point in the career of the Beatles, another Help! is breathing its last and represents a low point in another man's career. Thankfully both versions of Help! have brought me a lot of laughs.

Maybe you've seen Help! magazine on the stands next to Redbook and Look and were curious about this strange-looking mag. Maybe you even picked up an issue, perhaps the May 1965 issue with the humorous cover below, and giggled at the weird and wonderful material inside it. Sadly, the latest issue of Help! will be its last. The death of this very special mag has an interesting history well worth sharing. I hope you'll read along and discover why you should seek Help! magazine in the back issue bins and join me in mourning its passing.

MADman Harvey Kurtzman

Before we talk about Help! itself, let's talk about its editor, a genius by the name of Harvey Kurtzman. Kurtzman created, edited and orchestrated the glory days of MAD magazine as published by the late, lamented E.C. Comics. Under Kurtzman, MAD was a brilliant skewering of American comics, TV series, movies and life in general. Who can forget his absurdly silly "Superduperman", which skewered the Man of Steel with delighted glee and the so-many-jokes-you-have-to-squint-to-read-them-all art by Wallace Wood and Will Elder or any of a hundred equally scathing and brilliant satires?

The first 23 issues of MAD were published in comic book form by E.C., before moving to the familiar magazine format. Reportedly, MAD is one of the bestselling mags in the country these days, but, sadly, Kurtzman was unable to share in the profits from his creation. According to interviews with Kurtzman and his peers which appeared in E.C. fanzines, the editor had a falling-out with publisher William M. Gaines which resulted in Kurtzman abandoning his creation and creating a mag closer to his own vision.

Or, to be more precise, Kurtzman created a series of mags closer to his own vision. The first of those new magazines, dubbed Trump, was a gorgeously printed magazine, featuring slick and art (often painted in oils) on glossy paper. Published by Hugh Hefner of Playboy fame, Trump was a smart, sophisticated publication. Sadly, it fell victim to a cash crunch in Hefner's business and went out of business after only two issues. A second, similar mag, named Humbug, was self-funded but failed to find an audience, perhaps because it was poorly printed on cheap newsprint.


Thankfully, help came to Kurtzman from an unexpected source. Philadelphia-based James Warren, publisher of Famous Monsters and similar mags, was a big fan of Kurtzman's work. After a brief negotiation, Kurtzman had his fourth shot at creating a humor mag, though he would have to make some compromises. Budgets were tighter and production values shoddier than Humbug. But making a virtue of necessity, the great editor was able to produce a magazine unique on American newsstands.

Help for Tired Minds

Premiering with an issue cover-dated August 1960, Help! offered a different vision from Kurtzman's  previous mags. For one thing, Warren's budgets forced compromises which clearly both pinched and intrigued the expert editor. Instead of drawn covers, for instance, Help! often featured photos of comedians on their covers doing silly things. With well-known celebs like Ernie Kovacs, Sid Caesar and Jerry Lewis on the first three covers, the mag made a clear and simple implied pitch: if readers enjoyed these stars on TV, they would also enjoy reading Help!.

Inside the magazine, readers were treated to a hodgepodge of different material. Help! was a freewheeling magazine in which every page turn provided an unexpected treat. Some features were immutable. Every issue had a fumetti, or photo comic strip, in which actors (as well as Kurtzman, his assistant Gloria Steinem, Chicago comedian and radio personality Jean Shepard, and actors such as young Brit John Cleese) played parts in a comedy sketch presented like a comic strip. Some of those fumetti were goofy and some were strange, but Kurtzman deserves credit for trying something very different from the norm in order to fill his pages.

That said, Help! also included work every reader would expect, including outstanding strips by some of America's funniest cartoonists. Jack Davis worked for Help! at the same time he worked for the ongoing MAD. So did Arnold Roth, and Will Elder, and John Severin, and the list went on. Many issues featured some of their finest comics work. The staff wasn't limited to Kurtzman's old pals, either. Young cartoonists included Gilbert Shelton, who brought his manic "Wonder Wart-Hog" strips from the University of Texas newspaper to this mag.

Some of the finest work in the magazine was provided by Kurtzman himself. His "Goodman Beaver" strips, the tales of a young
naïf adrift in the baffling corporate world, is a legitimate side-splitter as well as a scathing satire of American professionalism and greed. "Beaver" can also be read as a hilariously bitter spit in the eye of a world Kurtzman dreamed of inhabiting but for which his own hubris would not allow him to experience.

As if that wasn't enough, Kurtzman also included a generous collection of text humor. Works by Jean Shepard, Paul Dehn, William Price Fox, and many others, appeared every issue. One of the most important features of the mag demonstrated Kurtzman's commitment to the younger generation. The ongoing "Help!'s Public Gallery" feature included art by artists who were building their skills. I was especially impressed by the energy and verve of above page by young R. Crumb, who looks like he will be going places. I've also enjoyed work in the Public Gallery by such new artists as Jay Lynch, Skip Williamson and Terry Gilliam.

No More Help from Harvey Kurtzman

Sadly, though, a circulation of roughly 115,000 copies per issue was just not enough to keep Help! alive. With issue number 26, on stands this month, Kurtzman's latest passion project has faded away like his previous projects. Thankfully it went under with perhaps the finest issue so far, which includes a shockingly hilarious satire of southern bigotry called "Brother, Have You Stomped a Nigra" by Terry Gilliam and Dave Crossley.  This humor has a vicious bite and perfectly encapsulates the influence Kurtzman has had over the younger generation of cartoonists. It seems to speak to the times we live in, the struggles over the Civil Rights Act, and the never-ending power of Dixie. Hopefully the racism mocked here will be gone in the next few years. It's hard to imagine systematic racism surviving the next 20 years, let alone the 20th century.

Help! was a worthy failure, but a failure nonetheless. Reports have Glliam moving to England,  perhaps to work on a project with Cleese, while Kurtzman will continue his Little Annie Fanny strips for Playboy. Meanwhile, publisher James Warren is replacing Help! with a new horror mag named Creepy. Issue #4 of that mag was also recently released and features work by some of Kurtzman's follow alumni. But that's a story for another column.

Hmm… wonder if there's still time to catch a matinee today of the Beatles film…



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 10, 1965] Binary Arithmetic (September 1965 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Yin and Yang


An ancient Chinese representation of the topic I will discuss.

Up and down. Left and right. Hot and cold. Female and male. Good and evil.

There's a natural tendency for human beings to think in pairs of contrasting concepts, sometimes in opposition, sometimes complementing each other. Such dualities are useful, but are often greatly oversimplified, painting everything as black or white, and ignoring the many shades of gray between.

I thought about this, oddly enough, when I heard the news just yesterday that Singapore is no longer part of the nation of Malaysia, as it had been since winning full independence from the United Kingdom in 1963. Instead, it is now a sovereign nation.


Lee Kuan Yew, Prime Minister of Singapore, announces the city-state's new status at a press conference.

Political differences between the central Malaysian government and Singapore led to the split, as well as strife between persons of Malay ethnicity and the mostly ethic Chinese population of Singapore. It's not yet clear whether Malaysia kicked Singapore out, or if the city left of its own free will.

This division of one nation into two made me think about the way our minds see things as dyads. I even perceived recent hit songs as a pair of opposites.

For most of July, (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones was at the top of the American music charts. It's a hard-driving tune, sure to grab your attention the first time you hear it.


And it's now my favorite rock 'n' roll song.

As if the gods of record stores and jukeboxes wanted to help me prove my theory of duality, the song that reached Number One in the USA this month could not be more different. Herman's Hermits have a smash on their hands with I'm Henry VIII, I Am, a comic music hall ditty that goes all the way back to 1910.


The success of this very silly song may foretell the end of the world.

New and old. Serious and funny. Good and bad. (OK, that last one is a matter of opinion.) Even when it comes to entertainment, things seem to exist as opposites, at least in our heads. The latest issue of Fantastic is no exception.

It's Two — Two — Two Magazines In One!

I trust the makers of Certs will forgive me for making fun of the well-known slogan from their TV commercials. It's appropriate for the revised version of Fantastic, which combines one new story with a quartet of reprints.


Art by the late Frank R. Paul.

That cover looks pretty old-fashioned, doesn't it? That's because it first appeared more than a quarter of a century ago, as the back cover of the very first issue of Fantastic Adventures, May 1939.


Look familiar?

The new publisher of Fantastic obviously intends to reuse as much material from the past as possible. Also dating back to the innocent days before World War Two is the following now-dated scientific explanation for why a Martian might look something like the being on the right. (The one on the left is a human, in case you were wondering.)


The redundancy in Item F makes me giggle.

Before this place becomes, as Tom Lehrer put it in Bright College Days, soggy with nostalgia, let's take a look at something hot off the presses.

Stardock, by Fritz Leiber

Starting off the issue is a new adventure of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, whom we've met many times before.


Illustrations by Gray Morrow. You can already tell that a lot is going to happen.

This time we're in Fafhrd's homeland, a place of snow and ice. A cryptic bit of doggerel leads our heroes to a chain of mountains. In search of a fabulous treasure, the ill-matched pair make their way, slowly and painfully, up a gigantic peak. Along for the fun is a large white feline, who becomes as important a member of the team as the giant Northerner and the diminutive Southerner.


They've already made a long, hard climb before they even begin to scale the highest mountain.

All kinds of challenges and mysteries stand in their way. The Gray Mouser has visions of a green, mask-like face, and Fafhrd experiences dreams of touching a woman he can't see. Two rivals are after the same treasure, and they have a pair of unusual companions. Most bizarre of all, gigantic invisible beasts, something like flying mantas, carry equally unseen enemies.


And what would a sword-and-sorcery yarn be without a monster to fight?

Eventually, the bold duo reach the top of the mountain, encounter the beings who live inside, and find out who led them there, and why.


A naked Gray Mouser and a dwarf who isn't naked.

Lieber's imagination runs wild here, and his writing is simply gorgeous. A lecture by Fafhrd, in which he describes each mountain in poetic language, is a thing of beauty. The trek up the ice-covered peak is described in exquisite, vivid detail. (I suggest reading this story while wrapped in a blanket and sipping hot cocoa.) There are enough fantasy elements for a full-length novel, and the plot has plenty of twists and turns to keep the reader's attention.

Five stars.

Sally, by Isaac Asimov

The rest of the magazine consists entirely of reprints. The first comes from the pen of the Good Doctor.  It first appeared in the May/June 1953 issue of the same publication.


Art by W. T. Mars. At least Ike got his name on the cover.

As you might expect, the story deals with robots, of a sort. In this case, we're talking about self-driving automobiles, with positronic motors that are also their brains. The narrator runs a sort of retirement home for these intelligent vehicles, once their owners have passed on. The cars have personalities, as far as their caretaker is concerned. The sedans are boys, and the convertibles are girls, including the title character.

An unscrupulous fellow, one of Asimov's few villains, tries to purchase the retired cars, so he can put their brains into different bodies. The idea is that he can then make a profit, selling old autos for new. The narrator, as horrified as he would be if the man was suggesting vivisection on people, refuses. The Bad Guy returns, using force this time to get his way. Let's just say that things don't work out for him.

There aren't a lot of surprises in the plot, unless you count the fact that the author's famous Three Laws of Robotics don't apply here. As usual for Doctor A, he writes clearly and efficiently.


Illustration by Emsh. All the illustrations for previously published stories are also reprints.

Automobile enthusiasts, among whom I cannot count myself, will probably get an extra kick out of this story. I thought it was worth reading, while waiting to have your vehicle fixed at the car shop.

Three stars.

"You'll Never Go Home Again", by Clifford D. Simak

This story first appeared in the July 1951 issue of Fantastic Adventures (not to be confused with Fantastic.) Flipping through the pages of the older magazine, I note that it still had the quotation marks around the title, but also had an exclamation point. (I worry about these things.)


Art by Robert Gibson Jones. The cover story has an exclamation mark also, as do several other pieces in the table of contents. I guess it was an exciting magazine.

A team of space explorers lands on a distant planet. It's made very clear, right from the start, that these folks are extremely careful when it comes to investigating a new world. The many scientists aboard the spaceship check out everything to make sure the place is safe, and there are soldiers to keep the peace.

A seemingly primitive humanoid alien shows up. A gizmo allows the alien and the humans to communicate, which is definitely a convenient plot device. The extraterrestrial offers the statement quoted in the title (without exclamation mark) not as a threat, but simply as a statement of fact.


Illustrations by Leo Summers.

The rest of the story deals with the explorers trying to figure out what the alien meant. It turns out to be something about the planet they hadn't considered.


A broken watch provides a clue.

In essence, this is an Astounding-style puzzle story, and not a very interesting example of one. Somebody like Hal Clement would have come up with a better solution to the mystery. By 1951, Simak was already an experienced pro, so it's written decently. However, there is none of the appreciation for the outdoors, or the affection for all living things, that we expect from him.

Two stars.

The Dark Room, by Theodore Sturgeon

We go back to Fantastic (not to be confused with Fantastic Adventures, or, for that matter, Fantastic Universe) and dig out a copy of the July-August 1953 issue for our next blast from the past.


Art by Rupert Conrad. The great Theodore Sturgeon is reduced to being one of others.

We begin with a married couple leaving a party. They're both devastated by what has just happened. You have to read between the lines a bit, but it becomes clear that the woman, for no reason she can explain, had sex with another man there.


Illustrations by Emsh.

After the couple breaks up, the man, still an emotional wreck, finds out that other people have done equally inexplicable things at parties held by the same wealthy host.


Looks like a nice party, doesn't it?

Some of these incidents are minor, as when a sweet, grandmotherly woman who writes innocent books for children comes up with an extremely dirty story. Some seem good, as when a man who knows nothing at all about music creates a hit song. Others are much more serious, even including murder. In each case, somebody did something completely out of character.


Maybe not so nice after all.

Launching his own investigation into the mystery, the betrayed husband sneaks into the rich man's home; in particular, to the dark room of the title. (This is itself an anomaly, as the room is decorated in an ultra-modern fashion, while the rest of the house is very conservative.) He discovers something strange and frightening, and learns an uncomfortable fact about himself.


The lady and the spider have more in common than first meets the eye.

This unique psychological fantasy, with more than a touch of horror, demonstrates Sturgeon's gift for creating memorable, three-dimensional characters. The premise is much more subtle than just the typical monster story you might expect when the giant spider shows up. It might even make you ponder your own personality, and what you would never do.

Four stars.

The Worm, by David H. Keller, M. D.

As Mister Peabody might have said to Sherman, it's time to jump into the WayBack machine, and visit the remote past. Come with me now to the year 1929, and the March issue of Amazing Stories.


Art by Frank R. Paul, of course.

An old guy lives alone, except for his dog, in a mill that hasn't been used in a long time. He hears an odd noise, similar to what the mill's grinding stones used to sound like, coming from beneath the basement. Pretty soon the source of the noise is obvious.


Illustration by Frank R. Paul, naturally.

The man makes a desperate effort to stop the bizarre creature from destroying his home and everything in it. Does he succeed? You'll have to read the story to find out.

I have to admit that I wasn't expecting much from a Gernsbackian, pre-Campbellian, bit of scientifiction from three-and-one-half decades ago. To my surprise, this chiller was pretty well written. There's even some sophisticated characterization, as when the man recites random bits of poetry to himself. It's a simple yarn, executed with some talent.

Three stars.

Half a Loaf is Better Than None

With extra pages, and the contrast between original fiction and reprints, I felt like I was getting two magazines for the price of one. The first part, with Leiber's fine new story, was worth four bits all by itself. The second part was a mixed bag. Sturgeon's story was very good, Simak's was a disappointment, and the others were OK, if nothing special. If you pick up a copy, I'd suggest taking a break and enjoying a cup of coffee after you read Stardock, so you'll be ready for some lesser works.


It would seem fitting to add some of this stuff to your java.

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




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TV

[August 8, 1965] Navigating the Wasteland #2 (1964-65 in (good) television)

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by Gideon Marcus

Oases

Three years ago, I reported on the state of television in the wake of former FCC-chief Newton Minow's pronouncement that television was a 'vast wastelend.'  Since then, I have remained a devoted fan of the small screen, if not completely addicted to 'the boob tube.'  Indeed, the Young Traveler and I have our weekly favorites we do not miss if we can at all help it.

And so, as we sail through the sea of summer reruns, gleefully anticipating the Fall line-up, I take delight in awarding the Galactic Stars of Television for the 1964-65 season.

Burke's Law 1963-65

Amos Burke is what would have happened if Bruce Wayne's parents had never been shot – he's a Beverly Hills playboy millionaire who also happens to be the dapper Captain of Homicide for the L.A. Police Department.  In each episode, Amos, with the aide of grizzled Sergeant Hart and youthful Detective Tilson (and occasionally the doe-eyed Sergeant Ames), solves a murder mystery.

It's light, it's fun, and in many ways, it's the last example of the great tradition of noir, bantering cinema.  I understand that Amos will be ditching his side characters and the expensive celebrity cameos to go full Secret Agent next season. That's a pity, though it's also possible that the format has exhausted its supply of stories.  How many people can get murdered in the Valley, after all?

The Addams Family (1964-)

In Fall 1964, there was not one, not two, but three sitcoms that debuted with a fantasy premise.  The most popular of them has been Bewitched, about a spell-casting housewife (Elizabeth Montgomery) married to a drip of an adman (Dick York), and who is not allowed to use witchcraft.  Suffused with marital strife, unfulfilled womanhood, and all-around dreariness, I can only imagine it's doing so well because it's the only one of the three in color.

The second of them is The Munsters, a lowbrow family comedy starring a cast of movie monsters: head of the household is Fred Gwynne as a Frankenstein retread; his wife, Lily, is a cross between Bride of Frankenstein and Bride of Dracula; their son is a wolf boy; their father is an old Transylvanian bloodsucker.  It's basically The Flintstones set in Disney's Haunted Mansion (coming soon, we're told).  I'm afraid it mostly sails under my head.

But the third.  Oh the third.  The Addams Family, based on the venerable comics of Charles Addams, is thematically similar to the Munsters and tonally the opposite of Bewitched.  John Astin plays Gomez Addams, the Man (though not the head) of the Addams house, which is a gloomy old mansion filled with an Alexandrian Library of oddities.  The indescribably beautiful Carolyn Jones is the severe and queenly Morticia Addams.  Other members of the family include the falsettoed weirdo, Uncle Fester; Morticia's knife-throwing mother (funnier by spades than "Granny" from the ongoing The Beverly Hillbilies); and the adorable and explosives-loving Pugsly and Wednesday Addams.  The towering butler, Lurch, and the disembodied hand, Thing (both played by Ted Cassidy), round out the cast.

Both Addams and Munsters play up their family's kookiness relative to their neighbors.  What makes Addams so much more effective is the subversive and clever humor.  For one thing, Gomez and Morticia (unlike virtually every other TV couple) are absolutely in love.  They respect each other completely, they support each other's ambitions, fight for causes together.  Of course they had to be played as complete whackoes… otherwise, who would believe it?

For another, Astin and Jones play their roles with more subtlety than their counterparts on Munsters.  There is more casual absurdity (Gomez' cigar lights itself on occasion), less stopping the action to showcase each gag.  Each comedic element, from the door knock that pulls out, releasing a foghorn bellow, to the omnipresent noose that, when pulled, shakes the entire house and immediately summons the butler ("You raaang?"), to the bear rug that growls when stepped on, to the fish mounted on the wall with a half-eaten leg still sticking out – they never fail to entertain.  Indeed, every time someone is newly introduced to them, their reactions are always funny.

Of course, I may be biased.  In many ways, Janice and I are Morticia and Gomez.  We have been known to sword-fight in our living room, we still adore each other after decades of marriage, "our house is a museum", and some would say "we really are a scre-am."

So, if for nothing else, you should watch The Addams Family to get a window into the lives of the Traveler family!  Just mind you don't trip over Lorelei's blasting caps…

My Living Doll 1964-1965

This is one of the few SF shows this season, though only just barely.  Bob Cummings plays… Bob Cummings… playing a psychiatrist who inadvertently becomes custodian to Rhoda, a high-functioning android who happens to look just like Julie Newmar (you may remember her as the highlight of the otherwise terrible Twilight Zone episode Of Late I Think of Cliffordville).  Cummings takes it upon himself to teach Rhoda how to be more human.

This should be an awful show.  There are a million opportunities for Doll to be an anti-feminist nightmare, and indeed, Cummings doesn't help matters, being about as slimy as a Bob Cummings playing a sitcom character can be.  But Julie Newmar saves the show, electrifying every scene she's in (not enough, often!) with her incredible comic poise and line delivery.  Every gawkily precise movement, every hilariously echoed line, every uttered "Does not compute" is an absolute show-stealer.

Apparently Bob Cummings didn't enjoy being upstaged by his co-star, and he departed in a huff five episodes before the season's end.  Sadly, Doll will not be renewed for next year; but at least we're getting a promising show in its time slot called Lost in Space.

Here's hoping we see more of Julie Newmar in the future.  She's a riot.

Secret Agent (Danger Man) (1964-)

We don't get too many English imports, but of the few we get, Danger Man is easily the best of the lot.  This is actually the second iteration of the show, the first having aired back in 1960 and arrived in the States the following year.  Back then, it was a half hour in length; now it's a full hour.

The subject is John Drake, deftly played by Patrick McGoohan.  He is the anti-Bond: competent, unswervingly good, respectful of women. 

I'd go into more detail, but I don't have to; The Young Traveler has already extolled the virtues of the show at length.  I urge you to explore her review.

Password (1961-)

A game show?  Really?

I was surprised as you, actually.  Game shows, in general, are at the same level of soap operas – low budget affairs churned out on a daily basis to fill time and move products.  On paper, the concept of the show should not be compelling: two celebrity guests are given a succession of words, which they then try to get their series of non-celebrity guests to utter.  Each is allowed just one word at a time as a clue, play alternating back and forth between the teams.

But host Allen Ludden (Mr. Betty White) really takes his program to a higher plane with his witty banter and knowing glances to the camera.  Plus, it's always a delight to see a Lucille Ball or Carol Burnett or Sammy Davis Jr. or (especially if you're The Young Traveler) a Tony Randall get to be their effervescent and clever selves.

Rocky & Bullwinkle (1959-1964)

Technically, Rocky & Bullwinkle completed its five year run last year.  However, it has gone into syndication, and we are getting to catch up on the episodes we missed.  It's as funny now as it was when I first reviewed it, three years ago.  Catch it if you can!

Twelve O'Clock High (1964-)

Three years ago, COMBAT! set the bar for World War Two shows.  The quality of that show has decidedly declined over time: Rick Jason and Vic Morrow are still trying to liberate that same French town in an effort that has taken several times as long as the actual European campaign. 

Enter Twelve O'Clock High, COMBAT!'s aerial counterpart (and a rough adaptation of the Gregory Peck movie from 1949).  Robert Lansing plays General Savage, leader of a B-17 bomber group based in England.  Episodes have had a wide variety of subjects.  Some have dealt specifically with bombing tactics – in one episode, the formation experiments with "bomb on leader", the practice of one plane determining the time that the entire group would release their payloads.  Another episode is built around an elaborate decoy mission that is planned to hide the formation's true objective.

But most of the episodes deal with the raw human nature that is revealed when exposed to the harsh environment and moral quandaries inherent in warfare by mass bombing.  There are group leaders afflicted with battle fatigue, a pilot who gets court-martialed for breaking formation to cover the forced descent of a comrade plane, a conscientious objector who must decide which principles he wants to live by.  And anchoring all of it is Lansing's gruff but expressive performance as a tired leader driven to see the war to the end, and desperate to preserve the life of each of his men.

Sadly, it looks like Lansing has been given the heave-ho after just one season, to be replaced by a more blandly handsome person (whose profile isn't entirely composed of crags).  This is unfortunate, and I have trouble believing that show will maintain its quality and gravitas without him.  Still, it was great while it lasted.

and finally…

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1964-)

Don't be surprised.  I come here not to praise Voyage but to bury it.  Since I spent so many inches talking about the best shows of the season, I wanted to showcase the other end of the quality scale.

Wow, what a stinker of a show, as bad as the movie that launched it.  Insipid plots, hackneyed dialogue, ludicrous science.  Production so bad that Harlan Ellison wouldn't let them use his name on the episode he wrote. 


(Fans of Burke's Law will recognize the byline — it's the name of the hack writer played by Sammy Davis Jr., who appeared in one of the several episodes Ellison penned).

Feh.  Don't fail to miss.

The Steppes

Inbetween the aforementioned bright spots and the Marianas Trench of TV that is Voyage, you've got all the rest.  The decent stuff like The Fugitive, Andy Griffith, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., The Lucy Show.  The drab sitcoms like Mr. Ed, Petticoat Junction, The Cara Moore Show, My Favorite Martian.  And the countless other programs that maintain television's other derogatory nickname, 'The Idiot Box.'

But then, Ted Sturgeon always said that 90% of everything is crap.  That we get anything worthwhile out of the small screen is miracle enough for me…

And hopefully now for you!

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




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Book

[August 6, 1965] Last Call for Paratime Passengers (H. Beam Piper's Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen)

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by Rosemary Benton

It has been nine months since the tragic death of H. Beam Piper. Truly, it's a terrible thing to have lost such a talented author from the world. Not to mention one who was a prolific contributor within the science fiction community. Fans and casual readers can at least take some joy in the knowledge that his death is not the last thing we will remember about him. This month, with the help of Ace Books, the final installment of Piper's Paratime series has been formatted and been released into our local bookstores – Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen.

In honor of the continued memory of one of my favorite authors I wanted to take a look at not only his newest posthumous publication, but the entirety of the Piper's Paratime series. How does it all tie together? How did it evolve? And most importantly, how does Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen stand as a final installment to the series?

For Hostigos!

The stories within the Paratime series all center around the exploits of the Paratime Police and other citizens from the "First Level", an alternative timeline of Earth with the exclusive knowledge of how to travel between parallel dimensions and timelines. Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen is the seventh book in the series and picks up directly after the events within Time Crime (1955). The novel continues to follow the usual crowd we have come to know within the Paratime Police, with the added bonus of introducing a full cast of highly developed new characters including the titular Lord Kalvan, a former Pennsylvania State Trooper by the given name of Calvin Morrison.

We open with Tortha Karf, Chief of Paratime Police, who is set to retire with the decorated Paratime officer Verkan Vall slated as his successor. The last thing he needs to go wrong right now is the accidental displacement of a person from a "Fourth Level" timeline. It's clear what has to be done – either locate the poor man in time to return him to his own Earth, or if need be kill him before he can cause a major disturbance to the local population and disrupt paratime activities.

Meanwhile, Corporal Calvin Morrison finds that his background as a Korean War veteran and his formidable knowledge of military history from his own time are exceptionally useful in his current situation as an unwitting interloper on a parallel Earth. The world into which he has dropped, confused and with only the supplies on his belt, is a feudal version of North America colonized by Indo-Europeans who went East instead of West, and eventually crossed the Siberian land bridge.

The technology of these people is very limited. The only producers of gunpowder, or "fireseed", are the priests within the cult of Styphon. Knowing how to make gunpowder is a guarded religious secret that has allowed the religious sect to grow immensely powerful, wealthy and influential. But with the arrival of Calvin, a man who can sweep the board with his advanced understanding of military strategy and basic knowledge of chemistry, that monopoly is quickly turned on its head. In short order Calvin becomes "Lord Kalvan" in his adopted kingdom of Hostigos, and the war for control of the region and the destruction of the Styphon cult is underway.

A Quick History of Paratime

Piper built the Paratime series from humble origins. The first installment was a novelette published in the April 1948 issue of Astounding Science Fiction titled, He Walked Around the Horses. The plot itself is simple. It’s an epistolary work that recounts a mysterious 1809 disappearance of an English envoy from our own dimension, and his jarring reentry into a parallel timeline. Other than being a small foray into the concept of alternative histories existing on neighboring worlds, there isn’t anything within He Walked Around the Horses that is essential to Piper's Paratime series.

The cannon of the Paratime stories really takes off in Police Operation, first published in the July 1948 issue of Astounding Science Fiction. This story is a fast, engaging read that does a fine job of presenting the necessary framework for the burgeoning Paratime series. In quick, fluid succession we learn who the Paratime Police organization is, who some of the main players are in the police force, what function they serve, how the society they hail from is structured, and what fundamental science the society works on – namely that of lateral space and time travel.

Piper went on to divulge the exploits of the Paratime Police and the citizens of the other levels in "Last Enemy" (1950), Temple Trouble (1951), Genesis (1951), and Time Crime (1955).  The short story which would become Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen came out in the November 1964 issue of Analog. Titled "Gunpowder God", it suffered from a number of issues including unbelievable character progression (i.e. Kalvan's ability to learn the language of Hostigos in record time and his ability to assume control basically overnight), and lagging development of the supporting characters.

With a serious rewrite, Piper was able to address nearly all of the criticisms of Gunpowder God. Rylla, the princess heir of Hostigos, became her own person and an instrumental warrior. Other supporting characters like Uncle Wolf and Chartiphon were given more lines and things to do, thus entrenching them as vital players in the war against House Styphon rather than set pieces in the story. For the fans of detailed military accounts within their science fiction, they will be very pleased with the even richer detail Piper put into the battle scenes.

Calvin's acceptance into the nobility of Hostigos still feels somewhat rushed, but I would argue that this has more to do with the abilities assigned to his character (his knowledge of military history and strategy is described as "genius" by nearly everyone) and his almost too successful jump into military leadership within Hostigos. Still, given that this is a story about a modern man displaced into an early European Renaissance-era society, it’s not so far-fetched that his preternatural knowledge or science, engineering and strategy would have impressed a few people. 

The Piper Method

The best thing that Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen has going for it is its signature H. Beam Piper attention to the subtle nuances of the world within the book. As with his other writings, Piper's characters often encounter the conundrum that what is right and just is not necessarily the most ethical choice. This in turn demonstrates the tedious and sometimes impossible task of those in power balancing violence with necessity.

Throughout the Paratime series we see this again and again. How should an alternative Earth's population be misled in order to protect the secret of paratime travel? Should it be through lies, subtle murders, cults, or open war? And what of the displaced people who are transported to other Earths when they are caught in the field of a First Leveler traveling between timelines? What can, or should, they do to survive?

As an acute example we now have Lord Kalvan who must tread the fine line of local customs while forcing them through scientific and military progress. Corporal Calvin Morrison is not a believer in any god, be they those of his home Earth or the new Earth he finds himself stranded on. He does know, however, that he has to maintain appearances and to do that he must do such things as massacre the priests of Styphon's House in cruel ways, offer tributes to the local gods and credit them with success in battle. Calvin is not ignorant of what he is kindling between the princedoms, either. He is well aware that he is instigating a religious war, and restates this fact on a number of occasions.

"A religious war, the vilest form an essentially vile business can take. Priests of Dralm and Galzar preaching fire and sword against Styphon's House. Priests of Styphon rousing mobs against the infidel devil-makers. Styphon wills it! Atrocities. Massacres. Dralm and no quarter! And that was what he had brought to the here and now”. 

While I can certainly recommend this title for the detail given to the battle scenes or the developed new characters, I wouldn't be able to recommend this title nearly as much without that signature moral dilemma that Piper places on the shoulders of his creations.

H. Beam Piper

"Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen" Within the Paratime Series

When put side by side with the other stories in the Paratime series it is immediately evident that this novel does significantly deviate in style from the previous installments. Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen is far less focused on the Paratime Police than its predecessors (with the exception of He Walked Around the Horses). Usually the Paratime Police are main protagonists, but after Calvin Morrison is dropped onto the alternative Earth the First Level inhabitants have very little involvement in the plot. Aside from providing some tension when we learn that Verkan Val is tasked with murdering Calvin before he can cause too much trouble, the presence of any paratime users is really unnecessary.

The murder plot becomes moot very quickly in any case. Verkan realizes that 1) Calvin is now too publicly entrenched in the politics of Hostigos to simply quietly assassinate, and 2) Verkan finds his integration into the Fourth Level Earth’s culture to be a fascinating case study. After that point the Paratime Police cast only show up to provide exposition on what Lord Kalvan has achieved, and to give his work observational critique.

Since Piper already had a universe set up in which dimensional displacement was established and explainable, it does make sense for Lord Kalvan's story to be tied into the Paratime series. It’s just a little unfortunate that the Paratime Police were not given more to do in the story.

That being said, it does feel like a fitting ending to the series. As Lord Kalvan ascends to the rank of Great King Kalvan the First, we see the leadership switch hands within the Paratime Police. Characters we have come to cheer for and relate to on the First Level are all moving on with their lives and onto other projects. If Piper had lived I’m sure that he would have continued to write about Great King Kalvan's exploits, maybe even going so far as to put the Paratime Police on the retirement shelf.

The care with which he wrote about Lord Kalvan's moral dilemmas as a leader, the detail into which he wrote about his military exploits, and the closure Piper found for the Paratime Police crew all speaks to the growth of the series into something else. Unfortunately we will never know what Piper had in mind for the future of this series, but as does happen perhaps we will see his work revisited by others in the future. There is certainly plenty of fertile material to work with.

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[August 4th, 1965] Queenly Fashion: The Style of the Powerful Women of South Asia

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by Gwyn Conaway

Farewell, Cleopatra! Hello, Maharani~

With summer well underway, silk wraps and teardrop jewels are in full bloom in the fashion scene. And while being in love with the Silk Road is nothing new in the West, we seem to be turning away from Egypt in favor of the majestic silks and gems of ancient kingdoms such as India and Thailand.

Elizabeth Taylor in Cleopatra, released in 1963 wearing the iconic 24-carat gold phoenix cape designed by Renie Conley. Note what Revlon has referred to as the “Sphinx Eye” makeup that has so heavily influenced women’s faces today.

Elizabeth Taylor’s depiction of Cleopatra in 1963 sparked a healthy obsession with women’s power in Europe and North America. Before we knew what hit us, her iconic smokey eye, dark brows, and blunt haircut took the beauty industry by force. Now, two years later, women are looking at powerful images in South Asia as a shining example of the adventurous spirit and strength of women across the globe.

Maharani Gayatri Devi of Jaipur wearing a delicate sari and wrap, gold bangles, and two heavy strings of pearls as she discusses politics in a local community. The word “Maharani” can mean the wife of a great ruler, or “Maharaja”, but also a woman that is a great ruler. Great Maharani have wielded power in recent years in such places as Thailand, Nepal, India, and Malaysia.

Inspiration comes from India courtesy of Maharani Gayatri Devi of Jaipur, a member of the Indian Parliament and a purveyor of the arts. Having won her electoral race in 1962 in the largest landslide in history (winning 192,909 out of the 246,516 cast), she continues to be a force of social change. Thanks in part to her, we see the traditional Indian paisley patterns and silk wraps reminiscent of saris this year in Vogue.

Perhaps one of her most impactful contributions to fashion though, is the popularization of Rajasthani blue. This beautiful color is vital to arts and crafts of the region, and has inspired a blue palette steeped in mysticism in the West. In Vogue this February, Jacqueline described this as the “Maharani mood” for the spring of this year.

An advertisement in Vogue’s Feb 15th, 1965 issue for Jacqueline’s Blue-Jade and Baby Ganges hues.

The Maharani isn’t the only Asian woman of power that has stolen our breath away. Queen Sirikit Kitiyakon, Regent of Thailand, is another figure that has been featured prominently in fashion across the world. Currently, her majesty rules over Thailand as its regent, having performed her duties exceptionally while King Bhumibol Adulyadej took a leave of absence from the throne to enter Buddhist monkhood in 1956, a tradition of kings in Thailand. Since then, she has maintained her regency as the second Siamese queen to ever hold that power.

The queen, left, sitting on golden cushions in Chakri Palace wearing a court Siwalai dress of gold and diamonds she initially wore to the Greek Royal wedding, designed by Pierre Balmain. Top right, she’s photographed wearing a Thai silk Boromphiman ensemble.

The queen is captivating not only for her grace and beauty, but also for the opulence of the Thai monarchy and traditional dress. The narrow sleeves, high necklines and columnar skirts the queen wears with traditional pride are a direct inspiration for our fashions here.

Queen Sirikit Kitiyakon was featured in Vogue of February this year with her children. Here she wears traditional Boromphiman formal attire, an inspiration for the womenswear we see today.

The fashions and palettes of these women are far from the only things that inspire us. We’ve also turned to the jewels of South Asian monarchs. From dripping teardrop earrings to festoon necklaces laden with diamonds and rubies to golden bangles worn up on the forearm, Western women are mimicking the royal jewels as a statement about modern women, decadence, and power.

Take for example, the Patiala Necklace. The House of Cartier created the necklace in 1928 for Maharaja Bhupinder Singh of Patiala. It was encrusted with nearly three-thousand diamonds, one of which was the De Beers diamond, seventh largest in the world. The necklace disappeared from the royal treasury in 1948, shrouding the impressive collar in mystery and igniting imaginations.

Collars like the Patiala Necklace pictured left were worn by great male leaders of India. Adopting these elements of design in women’s jewelry in the West is a powerful statement for the fight against the patriarchy likely coming our way.

It’s refreshing to see our industry be inspired by not only the beauty of famous women in history, but also their independence and power. That young western women are looking up to figures such as Queen Sirikit Kitiyakon, Regent of Thailand and Maharani Gayatri Devi is significant. We are once again using our beauty and fashion, like many before us, as a statement of women’s independence and the history of our power. We are living in exciting times! I have much anticipation for whatever happens next.

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




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Magazine, Serial

[August 2, 1965] Expansion and Contraction (September 1965 IF)

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by David Levinson

It seems like the world gets a little smaller every day. Jet planes are gradually replacing larger propeller-driven planes in the passenger market, reducing the time it takes to get from one place to another. As they become more ubiquitous even the middle class may be able to travel like the jet set. Communications satellites are making it possible for news to spread faster, and we can even see some events on television as they happen on the other side of the world.

On the other hand, the world seems to be getting bigger, too. We hear constantly about remote places where this conflict or that independence is taking place. The wealth of human knowledge is growing so fast, it’s almost impossible to keep up. Growing, shrinking, let’s look at some things that have done one or the other lately.

A long shortcut

France and Italy are now closer. Not diplomatically, and it’s not conclusive proof of continental drift, but the time to travel between them has shrunk thanks to the opening of a tunnel underneath Mont Blanc. The two countries agreed on building the tunnel in 1949, but excavation didn’t begin until a full decade later, with a company from each country drilling from their own side. The excavations met on August 4th, 1962, with an axis variation of a mere 5 inches. The tunnel was inaugurated at a ceremony on July 16th, attended by French President Charles de Gaulle and Italian President Giuseppe Saragat, and opened to traffic three days later.

At 8,140 feet below the surface, the two-lane highway tunnel is the deepest operational tunnel in the world, and at 7.2 miles, it is also the longest highway tunnel, some three times longer than the previous record holder, the Honshu-Kyushu tunnel in Japan. The travel distance from France to Turin is now 30 miles shorter, and the distance to Milan is 60 miles shorter.


Presidents de Gaulle and Saragat in front of the Mont Blanc tunnel connecting Chamonix to Courmayeur during the official inauguration

Flash!

Kodak made a big splash when they introduced the Instamatic camera two years ago. Like the venerable Brownie, the Instamatic makes it easy for amateurs to take snapshots. There’s even a model with a built-in flashgun that takes so-called peanut bulbs. The problem with those is that bulbs have to be removed before you can take another shot with the flash, and they get very, very hot. Kodak, working together with Sylvania Electronics, has come up with a solution: the flashcube.

As the name suggests, it’s a cube with a mount that connects to the camera on the bottom, and four flashbulbs around the sides. Trigger the shutter, the flash goes off, the cube rotates 90° and it’s ready for another picture immediately. Plus, by the time you’ve taken the fourth picture, parts of the cube should be cool enough to touch, so you can replace it right away. This should mean lots more candid snaps and a lot less dragging everybody outside to squint into the sun at family gatherings. A big innovation in a very small package.


$100 is a little pricey, but there are less expensive models, and we are talking about a lifetime of memories

An electrifying performance

The folk world had their horizons expanded last week, perhaps to their dismay. Despite his bad boy antics off stage last year, Bob Dylan was the most eagerly anticipated act at this year’s Newport Folk Festival, but his performance was met with a chorus of boos. It seems young Mr. Dylan felt that Alan Lomax was rather condescending when introducing the Paul Butterfield Blues Band at a workshop on Saturday the 24th and decided he would play electric to prove to the organizers they couldn’t keep it out. He hastily assembled a band from a couple of members of the Butterfield Band and some others and spent Sunday afternoon rehearsing. The crowd was shocked at the sight of Dylan accompanied by an electric band, and the short set of “Maggie’s Farm”, “Like a Rolling Stone” and “Phantom Engineer” was met with both boos and cheers. MC Peter Yarrow (of Peter, Paul and Mary) dragged Dylan out for a quick acoustic encore of “Mr. Tambourine Man” and “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”. The crowd exploded and begged for another encore.

So why the booing? Ask three different people and you’ll get four different answers. Some say it was folkies mortally offended at the mere presence of electric instruments or a rock sound, others that fans were upset at the shortness of the set and the fact that the band used most of their allotted 15 minutes for tuning and switching instruments and/or poor sound quality. Some will tell you it was definitely the fans booing, others blame the press or even the organizers. We may never know the truth of the matter, but there’s no question that Bob Dylan has made another big impact on music.

Dylan with electric guitar and harmonica. Completely different from his usual acoustic guitar and harmonica. (Band not shown)

The Mysterious Doctor X

If you drop by your local library and take a look at the Sunday New York Times for July 25th (assuming they carry it and it has already come in) and flip to the list of best sellers, you’ll see a new title, Intern by Doctor X. It is, by all reports, a rather harrowing account of a young doctor’s period of interning at a hospital a few years ago, taken from his daily journal. The names, as Jack Webb would say, have been changed to protect the innocent, and the doctor has chosen a pseudonym to further protect confidentiality. “What has that got to do with science fiction,” you ask. Well, a little bird told me that Doctor X is in fact a reasonably well-known science fiction writer. Since he has good reasons for concealing his identity, I won’t give it away, but I will say that I once thought he was a pseudonym for Andre Norton and that his last name closely resembles a different medical profession mostly practiced by women.

Another hint: It’s not Murray Leinster or James White

It’s bigger, but is it better?

As promised last month, IF is now 32 pages longer, making it the same size as its bi-monthly sister publication Worlds of Tomorrow. Fred Pohl claimed that’s enough for two more novelettes, four or five short stories, a complete short novel, or an extra serial installment. How well did the editorial team make use of that extra room this month? Let’s take a look.


A deadly duel begins. Art by McKenna

Under Two Moons, by Frederik Pohl

We open in medias res in a seedy corner of Marsport. Secret agent Johan Gull is tied to a pillar in a room full of gunpowder as a beautiful woman sticks a lit matchcord in his mouth and then declares her love for him. After escaping, he goes for a shave and retrieves a jacket not his own, but which holds a key that lets him access headquarters behind the barber shop. A seemingly reasonable bit of spycraft, until he has to go for a shave every time he needs to go to a different department. He meets with .5, the head of the agency, who speaks only through his personal secretary. His new assignment is to go to Syrtis Major and investigate a couple of prospectors who claim to have been granted powers by beings from a flying saucer. Are the Black Hats behind it, or something more?

Aboard the submarine taking him to his destination, he once again meets the mysterious woman. She helps him escape from the submarine when it is sabotaged, and together they struggle through the Martian desert. They’re saved by the appearance of Tars Tarkas riding a thoat. It seems they’ve stumbled into Barsoomland, and Tars is a robot. Eventually, they make their way to Heliopolis. Further spy shenanigans take place, culminating in a big showdown in a casino.


I love you Meestah Gull. I expect you to die. Art by Wallace Wood

It’s quite the zany – at times bordering on insane – send-up of James Bond, more so the movies than the books. Gull is a drunk, a womanizer, and unbelievably stupid. Only a few hours pass between the first scene and the woman’s appearance on the submarine, yet he has no idea who she is, and she has to remind him several times throughout the story.

While it isn’t bad, the humor really isn’t to my taste. There’s a sort of overly arch cleverness to it that grates. Worse, the first thing we get with 32 extra pages is a 32 page story by the editor. Admittedly, Fred has a problem in that the best market for the kind of thing he writes is the trio of magazines he oversees, and I’m sure there’s a process for deciding whether or not to buy one of the boss’s stories, but it’s not a good look. It might have been better to wait a couple of months before running this one. The flying saucer aspects of the story probably also prompted the longish editorial. Three stars, at the low end for me, maybe higher for you.

Moon Duel, by Fritz Leiber

On the rim of Gioja crater, the unnamed narrator and his partner Pete are setting up a miniradar when Pete is killed by a sniper on the other side of the crater. The killer is a “crusoe”, one the many aliens marooned on Earth’s moon, all of whom fight and kill each other and the growing number of humans for the scarce resources that allow them to survive. The narrator manages to get off a few quick shots and a mayday signal. What follows is a deadly game of cat and mouse for the hours it will take for help to arrive. But at one point the antagonists begin an attempt at communication.

This is a very atypical story for Fritz Leiber. Even though I tend to think of him primarily as a writer of fantasy and horror, he’s no stranger to science fiction. “A Pail of Air” is one of my favorite stories. But the science comes on very strongly here, often shouldering aside character, which is Leiber’s real strength. It’s also shoehorned in at times, such as the clumsy footnote about the muzzle velocity of the narrator’s weapon. The climax also shares a factor with the rather poor Men of Good Will by Ben Bova and Myron R. Lewis, although Leiber is far more scientifically rigorous. Still, I’m not sure Leiber can write a bad sentence, and there is some genuine tension. To be honest, I probably would have liked this more if someone else’s name had been on it and I’d come in with a different set of expectations. Three stars.

The Planet Player, by E. Clayton McCarty

Archaeologist Charles Maxwell has joined the expedition to planet S-60 to investigate signs of a lost civilization. He gets off to a poor start with Litzanov, the expedition’s director. The director is a prickly authoritarian, who as it turns out is completely tone deaf and greatly annoyed by “sound in a measured tempo”. Maxwell, on the other hand, had dreams of being a concert pianist, has brought his guitar along, and reacts badly to being pushed around. Early in the journey, a stowaway is discovered, a fifteen-year-old deaf-mute known to the crew as Binky, the son of an early space scout. Bothered by the way the crew handles the boy, Maxwell takes him under his wing.

When they arrive at the planet, Litzanov proves to be a glory-hound. All photographic and video records are carefully rehearsed and staged to put him front and center, depicted as a wise man of science. The team also discovers massive structures made of a crystalline material which resonates to slight touches, though not to hard blows. At the heart of the alien complex, they find a theater with the remains of the dead in every seat. Spot checks all around the world find evidence that every single inhabitant of the planet died at the same instant, utterly without warning. The team probes the mystery, and as we are warned at the beginning, not everyone will survive.

Talk about a dead audience. Art by David A. Kyle

What a beautiful story. It’s not without its flaws; the reader figures out what destroyed this civilization and what is going to happen to the expedition fairly quickly, and the rather quick and easy decoding of the written language is highly improbable. But that all gets washed away by the ending, especially the final paragraph. This is McCarty’s second story. His first, Small One, was overly long and lacked subtlety, though Gideon rather liked it. This one however is excellent. A solid four stars.

M’Lord Is the Shepherd, by Leigh Richmond and Walt Richmond

From Moonbase One, M’Lord oversees the development of the people of Alterra. Although they are 50,000 to 100,000 years from being ready to be contacted by the Galactics, M'Lord has received orders to get them to that stage within 200. The Korm’aans are predicted to sweep through that spiral arm of the galaxy and the Galactics need an ally. That sort of forced stimulation usually destroys those subjected to it, but while a weak ally is preferable, a planet that can be used without interference from a native race is acceptable.

M’Lord decides that electric current is the ideal way to carry out his orders. First, he introduces the battery. After 75 years have passed, he sends his chief teslar down to the planet to get them to use 60 cycle alternating current. The results are astonishing. After only a few decades, the Alterrans are reclassified from “Sheep” to “Predator”. In fact, they represent a greater threat than Korm’aan. The solution is to fill the atmosphere with ultra-high frequency, ultra-short wave broadcasts. This attempt fails and he is ordered to apply hypnotic stupidifiers. This too fails, and the Alterrans are predicted to take over the galaxy within 500 years. The Galactics and Korm’aans have made common cause, and M’Lord must now act as ambassador and plead for no retribution.

Great Ghu, the Richmonds have escaped from Analog! The whole thing is ridiculously obvious, with the possible exception of the teslar. Unless you’ve read up on the early days of electricity, remember some of the articles Hugo Gernsback wrote back in the 1910s and 1920s, or have some reason to measure magnetic flux, you’ve likely not heard of Nikola Tesla. In any case, the question is why Campbell didn’t want this one. I mean, it has humans as the biggest, meanest, fiercest thing the galaxy has ever seen. Maybe he was put off by the scientific advancement of the last century or so coming from aliens rather than the natural superiority of northwestern Europeans. I should also note that it was only during the writing of this review that I realized the M’Lord is not a contraction such as one would use to address an English judge, but rather an alien name with obligatory apostrophe. A very low 2 stars.

Giant Killer, by Keith Laumer

On the planet Rockamorra, the CDT mission under Ambassador Splitwhistle is about to become the first formally credentialed embassy on the planet – a veritable coup over the Groaci – when Retief arrives late and tries to persuade the ambassador not to go through with it. He fails, but Splitwhistle really should have listened. It seems he has committed himself and his people (except Retief, who refused to go through the ceremony) to slaying a dragon. After the ambassador gets everybody thrown in jail by refusing to carry out his duly appointed task, it’s up to Retief, with a slight assist from Ben Magnan, to save the day.


The ambassador is supposed to kill it with a sword. Retief has a different plan. Art by Gaughan

I said last month that Retief’s shtick is getting stale. All the usual beats are here: the mission gets in trouble because no one listens to Retief, Retief enlists the aid of a slick talking local, Ben Magnan blunders about and accidentally helps, Retief saves the day. The only thing missing is a pulchritudinous female to offer her affections as a reward. Laumer seems to just be going through the motions in order to turn out one of these every month. I suppose it’s an easy, guaranteed sale. We’re promised the start of a Retief novel next month. We’ll see if the extra room for development of plot and character is a good thing or not. A low three stars, but probably a firm three if you’re new to the series.

Alien Artifact, by Dannie Plachta

A billion miles beyond the orbit of Pluto, the patrol ship Solar Sea picks up a large object on radar. It proves to be a giant ship, the alien artifact of the title. The crew explores and makes a shocking discovery.

Dannie Plachta is this month’s new writer. This short tale is afflicted with the desire for a Twilight Zone shock ending. While not a poor representative of the form, it’s not all that shocking either. And even at 2 and a half pages, the story is a bit long for what’s in it. On the other hand, it’s a decent freshman effort. I vacillated between two and three stars. The writing isn’t bad, and I wouldn’t immediately roll my eyes on seeing Plachta’s name again in the table of contents. Plus, it’s short. So, three stars, I guess.

Gree’s Damned Ones, by C. C. MacApp

Steve Duke has been infiltrated into a Gree punishment detail. The others aboard the transport have sinned against Gree, but are being given a chance to redeem themselves. Steve is here to find out why Gree and its slaves are showing great interest in a planet near the center of the galaxy.

Placed in charge of a large unit, Steve is ordered to make his way to an enormous cliff in some distant mountains and find a way to report back. The first night out, he finally activates the device that will give him his orders from the Birds of Effogus. Unfortunately, he left the device containing the means to let the Birds know exactly where he is so they can null in back in camp. He’ll just have to complete his mission and get back.

After a long and dangerous journey, Steve’s group meets up with another, under the leadership of Fazool, the B’Lant Steve befriended and betrayed in the first Gree story. Fortunately, Fazool was brain-burned and doesn’t recognize Steve, though in moments of distraction he does call him Jen. Ultimately, the two of them are the only ones to penetrate to the final mystery of the planet.


Steve and one of the B’Lants under his command encounter some dangerous plant life. Art by Giunta

I’m getting tired of these Gree stories. After a couple of dismal outings, the last couple have been better, but it’s time for MacApp to wrap this saga up. This one offers some interesting mysteries, and most of it is taken up by a sort of Arthur C. Clarke travelogue melded with a pulp jungle adventure. The end is rather perfunctory and raises as many questions as it answers, while seeming to move the war against Gree at least to the end of the mid-game. Still, it’s readable for the most part. A low three stars.

Skylark DuQuesne (Part 4 of 5), by E. E. Smith

The revolution on Ray-See-Nee in the Chloran galaxy is a success, but the locals whom Dick Seaton has put in power are worried about their first report back to the Chloran headquarters. The daily report shouldn’t be a problem, but the change in government will be closely scrutinized, and the reporter will likely die or have his mind shattered and will certainly give the game away. Fortunately, Seaton once went frontal lobe to frontal lobe against the Supreme Great One of the Chlorans and won. (Ignore the fact that that was halfway across the universe. Chlorans are Chlorans everywhere.) So Seaton makes the call and successfully dupes the bad guys. That taken care of, the Skylarkers head off to more familiar regions to repair the Valeron and come up with a way to improve coordination and reaction times on a planet-sized vessel.

Cut to the Jelmi. After some friendly political maneuvering, Mergon is now in charge. He picks out an uninhabited Tellus-type planet, and the Jelmi set about created an armed and well-defended base. Contact is made with the Llurdi, and after the Jelmi demand independence, the Llurdi throw everything they have at their former slaves. Holding out by the skin of their teeth, the Jelmi then contact the Llurdi, give them the teleporter, and restate their desire to live in peaceful independence. Being supremely logical, the Llurdi agree.

Meanwhile, repairs to the Valeron are complete, but Seaton is extremely fidgety. He only calms down once they start heading back to their new friends in the Chloran galaxy. It seems the woman who aided him in the revolution and her mother are witches, and they put a spell on him to summon him back. The new government is trying to weed out corruption, but are facing a lot of resistance from corrupt elements that are left over and new corrupt elements who want a piece of the graft. There’s a big shoot-out and the problem is resolved.

The Fenachrone are withering in Llurdi captivity. On his deathbed, their leader sends out a mental distress signal and makes contact with DuQuesne. The latter offers to help them and teleports their leader and a couple of others to his ship. He then heads for the Llurdi galaxy, as are the Skylarkers, who have figured out how DuQuesne tricked them and where the Jelmi must have come from. The leader of the Llurdi detects the Valeron (the DQ is shielded to the point of invisibility) and sends out a powerful mental probe. The Skylarkers read the probe as an attack and throw up their shields. The Llurdi decide they must attack and so throw everything at the Valeron. Seaton counterattacks and as the two forces are nearing mutual destruction, Seaton is mentally contacted by Mergon of the Jelmi. To be concluded.


Dick Seaton takes a call. Art by Morrow

Only one more installment to go. I must admit there is a certain crude vigor here that… well, it hasn’t grown on me, but I’m less offended by it than I was. It still doesn’t make a lot of sense, it’s still badly plotted, Smith still starts paragraphs with “wherefore”, but I guess I can see the nostalgic appeal if you first read Smith at an impressionable and less discerning age. Two stars.

Summing up

Before wrapping this up, let’s talk about the art. At least since I took on reviewing IF the interior art has been provided by a steady stable of four: Gray Morrow, Norman Nodel, Jack Gaughan and John Giunta. For me, Morrow is far and away the best of them, but he’s been tied up with Skylark for four issues now. I’m also not a big fan of Nodel’s smudgy look or Gaughan’s abstract elements. Still, all four are good, but there’s been a lack of freshness. This month saw two new additions. Wally Wood, of course, is primarily a comic artist (and former studio partner of Harry Harrison), but he’s done some illo work for IF’s sister publications, although we haven’t seen him for a couple of years. David Kyle is a long-time fan (he’s the man who got his fellow Futurians banned from the first Worldcon), occasional artist and rarely author. While there’s really nothing stylistically all that different, both artists have injected enough of a difference to seem fresh.

So, has IF made good use of its expanded space? It’s hard to say. Skylark DuQuesne continues to weigh the magazine down, and I think we’ll have to wait a couple of months to see what Fred Pohl does once it’s gone. As I noted above, no matter what you might think of the story, running a piece written by the editor which is exactly as long as number of new pages is not really the best way to start. On the other hand, we have eight titles this month, which increases the chances of there being something for everybody. And next month, Pohl is trying out another innovation. As one serial ends, we’ll also start another. If the typical serial is three parts, that’s an increase from four a year to six. That also raises the chances of more good work. Only time will tell.




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Magazine, Serial

[July 31, 1965] A spoonful of sugar (August 1965 Analog)

2 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

Good and bad medicine

Yesterday saw a major milestone in the journey toward President Johnson's "Great Society": Medicare is now a reality, though it won't take effect until July 1 of next year.  This offshoot of Social Security puts the U.S. government in the insurance business, ensuring health care for our nation's elderly.  It's a first step toward the universal health care endorsed so fervently by Harry Truman nearly twenty years ago.

Of course, the legislation has its detractors, most vocally the American Medical Association, which has been against medical insurance in general for decades and against government involvement therein specifically.  They certainly don't like the idea of their fee being in any way mandated from above.  Medicare currently has a provision that the fee a doctor charges the program must be “customary, prevailing and reasonable.” On the other hand, there is a loophole in that provision, put in to appease the AMA, that says doctors don't have to accept what Medicare pays them as payment in full.

I wonder if that provision will be abused…

It is perhaps only coincidence that this month's issue of Analog is fronted by pieces inspired by the health industry.  One can but admire editor John W. Campbell Jr. for his perspicacity in timing.  However, since Campbell is the editor, the conclusions his pieces arrive at aren't necessarily in concordance with my views.  You can let me know what you think:

Say Awwwww


by Kelly Freas

Half a Loaf, by R. C. FitzPatrick


by Kelly Freas

Children with severe mental disability beyond the possibility of treatment are being sent to Sunnyvale, a terminal home.  Comfort is the priority for the kids as their maladies appear incurable; they are to simply live out the rest of their lives being cared for.

This bleak outlook isn't good enough for Sylvia, a social worker who has become attached to Tommy Magee, an eight year old child with a fine mind but no control of his body.  When Tommy is sent to Sunnyvale, she heads there, too, to investigate.  It turns out that there is some kind of treatment going on after all, and children are being sent home, apparently in full command of their faculties.

Loaf is thus something of a detective story, with the reader following Sylvia along until she, with the help of her doctor friend, Morecai, learns Sunnyvale's secret.

FitzPatrick is a relatively new author with few titles to his credit.  There is no question but that he can write compellingly, and Loaf sucks you in immediately.  But the author waits too long to reveal the twist, reducing the piece to something of a gimmick story.  Moreover, the treatment process has, shall we say, profound moral implications that are left virtually unaddressed.  FitzPatrick could have cut to the chase much sooner and explored the ramifications of his tale more thoroughly, to the greater satisfaction to this reader, at least.  As is, the author ends with a conspiratorial wink as the curtain drops.  It's got Campbell's editorial fingerprints all over it.  By now, we all know his stance on eugenics, after all.

Anyway, three stars — an average of a four-star start and a two-star finish.

Positive Feedback, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Chris Anvil can write, honest.  I've seen it.  But never when he publishes in Analog.  Feedback is a tale in epistolary about the dangers of universal auto insurance.  It's really an indictment of medical insurance, arguing that 1) insurance just leads to folks getting unnecessary procedures and 2) people should eschew the experts and just learn a little more self care.

Never mind that insurance allows for preventative maintenance that can head off expensive procedures.  And never mind that, despite what Campbell may think, trained medical doctors…er…certified auto mechanics know a bit more about what they service than individuals.

I'm not saying that we might not benefit from learning to change our own oil (or moderate our diet) but the straw insurance man Anvil presents is a ludicrous way to try to make that point.

Two stars.

Microminiature Industry, by Carl A. Larson

Apparently, yeasts and other microorganisms have been and can be used to synthesize all sorts of useful chemicals.  I say "apparently" because this meandering, subheadingless article was pretty much unreadable.

Two stars for actually being science, at least.

Sleep No More, by James H. Schmitz


by John Schoenherr

The prospect of a Telzey Amberdon story always fills me with mixed feelings.  On the one hand, tales of a 15-year old brilliant telepathic girl should be right up my alley.  On the other hand, Schmitz (who has written great stuff but often doesn't) has increasingly managed to leach any character or color from these stories. 

Last time we saw Telzey, she had psychically enfeebled the mind of the murderous Robane, a powerful telepath in a crippled body who lured people to his estate to be mauled by his pet beast.  When Telzey goes back to make sure Robane is truly harmless, she is set upon by a teleporting monster.

Telzey, in this story, has absolutely no personality.  She simply goes through the motions of evasion and planning to come out alive, and the reader will not know anything more about her by the end than they did at the beginning.  Schmitz also manages to never say in one word what he can say in two.

It's really a shame that I cannot give this tale more than two stars.

Fighting Division, by Randall Garrett


by Leo Summers

We have a slight uptick in this short Garrett piece, about a President who hoaxes an alien invasion to unite the normally hostile superpowers.  It's an old plot, but Garrett gives it a fresh twist. 

Three stars.  Probably the best story in the magazine; certainly the one sweet spot in a bitter brew.

Trader Team (Part 2 of 2), by Poul Anderson


by John Schoenherr

And finally, we conclude the adventures of Falkayn, the Terran assigned to the one-face world of Ikrananka (last issue) to try to establish trade relations.  While on the planet, the local human population, warrior descendants of a crashed starship, revolt and try to seize control.

Though this second half of the story is as long as the first half, virtually nothing of consequence happens in it.  There are attempts at a rollicking story with vignettes involving the foul-mouthed, monkey-like Chee, the centaur saurian Buddhist, Adzel, and the rather hapless but ultimately triumphant human, Falkayn.  But the whole thing falls flat, much more akin to the author's A Bicycle Built for Brew than his Three Hearts and Three Lions or his The High Crusade.

Sorry I don't have more to say about it; it's utterly forgettable.  Two stars for this installment, two and a half for the total.

Diagnosing the Patient

The medicine is good deal more castor oil than grape cough syrup this month, that's for certain.  Only Worlds of Tomorrow (3.3 stars) and Science Fantasy (3 stars) finished above the mediocre line.

New Worlds clocked in at 2.8 and Fantasy and Science Fiction scored 2.6.  IF was a dismal 2.3.

But the bottom of the month is reserved for Analog and Amazing (a tie at 2.1) and the putrescent Galaxy (1.8).

Out of 50 stories, just one (1) was written by a woman.  Not only does science fiction appear to be dying, but we are retrogressing in terms of demographic equality.

Do we pull the plug, or is there hope for resuscitation?

(come join us in Portal 55, Galactic Journey's virtual lounge!)




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[July 28, 1965] Aldiss, Harrison, and Roberts, Inc. (August 1965 Science Fantasy and New Worlds)

9 Comments


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

As Summer draws on, we seem to have got into a somewhat lethargic routine here in Britain. Is it the weather, or is that we are saving our energy for the Worldcon at the end of next month?

As per usual, the issue that arrived first in the post this month was Science Fantasy..

And we have another Keith Roberts’ cover, this month back to the weird style of the January-June covers. I must be getting used to them – this one’s OK. The light tones reflect the golden Summer us Brits are known to get every year… or perhaps not.

The Editorial this month takes up that idea mentioned a few times by Kyril in previous months. It talks of the 1930's origins of sf before going on to say that sf must evolve from what it was. Like our reading habits change as we grow older and become more mature, so must the genre. As per usual, it is well argued and explained, but nothing that different to what we’ve read recently. It also echoes Mike Moorcock’s rallying call in last month’s New Worlds.

To the stories themselves.

The Desolator, by Eric C. Williams

The first story this month (title on the cover being “The Desolators”, title on the story being the singular) is a Time Travel tale, from an author we last saw in last month’s New Worlds with The Silent Ship.

John Prince is a thief, but one who travels into the past and the future to loot what he needs. On his trail are the Time Police, determined to catch those who profit from other’s work. It’s a nice idea, though one that is pretty much the whole point of the story. There’s a twist in the tale at the end which seemed a little throw-away to me. In summary, it’s OK, but not the best time travel story ever written, nor the best start to an issue of Science Fantasy. 3 out of 5.

Chemotopia, by Ernest Hill

Sometimes the title tells you exactly what the story is going to be. So – Chemicals…drugs… you get the idea. Chemotopia gives us an idea of how crime and punishment could be dealt with in a future society dependent on drugs. Crimes are dealt with on the principle that punishment as vengeance for crimes is outmoded and is being replaced with rehabilitation, chemical usage and reintegration. When a trio of unruly teenagers are arrested for damaging property and injuring people, the view of the older police of what punishment should be utilised is at odds with the modern-day approach. We then go through a number of procedures, involving drugs, to mollify the delinquents. The ending is rather jarring, involving a doctor and a nurse whose attraction may, or may not, be influenced by drugs. It reads like a simpler, less intelligent version of Anthony Burgess’s Clockwork Orange. 2 out of 5.

Idiot’s Lantern, by Keith Roberts

A story from a promising new writer….. well, no.

Another Keith Roberts story, making his grand total of pages in this issue a mere 84 out of 130 pages. But this is another Anita story, the teenage witch who has wound her way through this magazine over the past couple of years. The Idiot’s Lantern of the title is what some call television, and the story is about what Anita and her Granny make of this innovation of the modern age. When they have a television fitted to the cottage, Anita and Granny Thompson become obsessed, to the point that they apply and become contestants on a quiz show recorded in London. Unsurprisingly this causes problems as they go to the big city.

Like all Anita stories, this one might divide opinion, although they are popular. For me it depends on how much Anita’s mentor Granny Thompson appears, as generally the more she’s there, the less I like the story. This story has considerable Granny Thompson presence, but I found it tolerable, though I get the impression that these stories are running out of steam a little. It’s lightly humorous – for some. 3 out of 5.

Paradise for A Punter, by Clifford C. Reed

The title of this one might need a little explaining to non-Anglophiles in that a ‘punter’ is a gambler, someone willing to take a risk. It is important to know that as the story is of Mr. Rogers who seems to be offered a risk he cannot afford to miss, although there’s the inevitable twist in the story expected. A fair Twilight Zone type story.  3 out of 5.

A Way With Animals, by John Rackham

The return of John Rackham, last seen in the March 1965 issue. This is one of John’s more superficial stories about a man who reluctantly takes on responsibility for a pet dragon. Chaos ensues. It’s pretty much what’s expected. I’m tempted to call it a shaggy dog type of story… except it’s about a dragon. 3 out of 5.

Grinnel, by Dikk Richardson

Richardson’s short story in last month’s New Worlds had the dubious honour of getting my first one-star summary. I was hoping that this would be better. It’s not but it is memorable, even if it is not in a good way – a meaningless snippet of a story about a man who seems to drive others insane by repeating the word “Grinnel”. At two pages, at least the story’s not long, but still probably too long. 2 out of 5.

The Furies (Part 2 of 3), by Keith Roberts

You might have noticed that I did enjoy most of Keith’s first part last month. I was interested to see whether his story of giant wasps could maintain the pace of the first part.

Last issue we were left with the cliff-hanger that Bill Sampson and his young friend Jane had made a dash to the coast in order to try and escape the giant wasps and leave the country. Jane had been put upon a boat to France, whilst Bill had returned to England and was grabbed by a group of adults who seemed to be working with a wasp….

So, in this part we widen our perspective and are introduced to a motley crew of various refugees. Bill and his new group are being herded by the wasps to an old Army camp and kept there in order to collect supplies and work for the wasps. The humans seem to adapt to this, although this may be perhaps in some sort of collective shock. Bill and others from his hut in the barracks escape and hide out in caves near Shepton Mallet. They begin to fight back, targeting camps and wasp nests, with varying degrees of success. It ends on another cliff-hanger as Bill tries again to get to the coast to find Jane.

Often in the middle of a story the pace can slow a little. This is not the case here. However, although it might sound like it, this second part is not some boy’s adventure tale, either. It is quite dark with some of the characters clearly traumatised from their experiences, something which Roberts is not afraid to show. There are some shocking moments. 4 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

Well, we’ve certainly got a range of stories in Science Fantasy this month – time travel, drugs, dragons and giant wasps! However, what we gain in breadth we seem to lack in depth as the other stories are a bit pedestrian, frankly. After a wobbly start, the issue improves as it goes along. I’m pleased that The Furies has managed to keep the momentum of last month’s story going, and I am really looking forward to its conclusion next month.

Let’s go to my second magazine.

The Second Issue At Hand

This month’s editorial from Mike Moorcock is one of two halves. The first tells us how great Harry Harrison’s novel is (I’ll comment on that later) before going on to entice us with future attractions. The second part reminds us that we have a Worldcon in London in about one month’s time, which we should be excited about. (Have I said in the last few minutes that Brian will be Guest of Honour at next month’s Worldcon in London?)

We also have the appearance of “Dr. Peristyle” (who is rumoured to be a certain Mr. Aldiss), who will alternate with the Letters Pages in the next few months. His somewhat unique and unusual responses have been great fun in the British Science Fiction Association journal Vector, and I look forward to reading more of them here.

To the stories!

Bill, the Galactic Hero, Part 1, by Harry Harrison

This one, the first of three parts, is heralded with a bit of a flourish. You may have noticed that the front cover of this month’s issue proclaims it as “Harry Harrison’s finest novel”, although to be fair he’s only had three published to date, with similar themes – Planet of the Damned, Deathworld and its sequel Deathworld 2.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, this novel has been commended by Harry’s friend and co-author, Brian Aldiss! (Have I said in the last few minutes that Brian will be Guest of Honour at next month’s Worldcon in London?)

Illustration by Harry Harrison

The bad news is that it is a parody, something that in my experience splits the readership. Some will be impressed by how wittily the author and his prose cocks a snook at the establishment, whilst others will just not find it funny and even rather silly.

Guess which reader I am?

It may be a generational thing. If I was aged twenty-something, I might be amused by the naming of characters such as recruiting 'Sergeant Grue' or 'Petty Chief Officer Deathwish Drang' that good-intentioned Bill encounters as he bumbles his way through military training and active service against the alien Chinger. If I had undertaken National Service, I might be impressed by how the tale repeats real-life tales of bureaucracy and incompetence, amplified to a supersonic level.

But I did not, and as a result it just seems rather silly, and too forced to be funny. I can see what it is trying to do and was a little amused by the jabs at the old guard, but in the end I found it rather monotone and rather relentless. Whilst it did make me think of Robert Heinlein’s Starship Troopers in a new light, I don’t think J G Ballard has much competition here, or even Robert Sheckley! But I did like Harry’s own illustrations. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by Harry Harrison

[This novel appears to be an expansion of The Starsloggers, which appeared in Galaxy last year. I liked it more than Mark, giving it 5 stars, but perhaps it loses something in the lengthening. (Ed.)]

The Source, by Brian Aldiss

Speaking of Harry’s friend…. According to the banner at the top of the story, The Source is an attempt to write a science fiction story based on Jung, which probably would’ve worked more for me had I more than a fleeting knowledge of the philosopher’s ideas. However, from what I've read here this seems to involve sex, nakedness and your mother, in various dream-like states. As this is an sf magazine, though, we have all of that bolted on to a notional science fiction idea of aliens visiting Earth and trying to determine what they see. Not one of Brian’s best, but I was a little hamstrung here by my limited knowledge of philosophers. 2 out of 5.

And Worlds Renewed, by George Collyn

The reappearance of George after his book reviews last month. This story seems to show the sinuous relationship between decadence and art, for in this future culture and artistic reputation can be determined by the work of an artist on a planet sized scale. Nefo Seteri is commissioned to complete a commission on Rigel XXII by a man-with-more-money-than-sense, Junter Firmole. The project is completed by Seteri in secret, until the grand unveiling, which is the surprise ending. It’s really a one-idea story, with lots of description about Seteri’s process, leading to the conclusion, the ultimate in narcissistic planet-shaping. I did wonder how one would go about keeping some art this big a secret. 3 out of 5.

The Pulse of Time, by W. T. Webb

A weird but short story of a prominent heart surgeon who is offered a job by a mysterious benefactor. When they meet, the surgeon is shown what I will describe as a life-clock, running by being connected to a living heart. Where the heart that powers the clock comes from is the big reveal at the end. 3 out of 5.

By The Same Door, by Mack Reynolds

Another attempt by Moorcock to sneak an American author into this British magazine? (Mind you, it has worked for Vernor Vinge from a couple of issues ago, who, as you will see later, did very well in that issue’s ratings.)

However, this one's not great. This is a story about an unpleasant man, Mr. Bowlen, who insists on Alternatives Inc. honouring its promise to customers of being able to put someone in any world they want. Bowlen demands to be sent to a place where some “secret perversion” that he has read about takes place. The difficulty for the company is that he never found out what the secret perversion was, exactly. And neither do we, in this story that sputters out to no real resolution. 2 out of 5.

Preliminary Data, by Mike Moorcock

I’m amazed that the editor has time to write as well these days, but here’s a Jerry Cornelius story that combines the action of The Avengers TV series with modern cultural references and religion. It is difficult to describe, but involves stylishly trendy modern icon Jeremiah Cornelius and his wife Maj-Britt appearing to be kidnapped by Miss Brunner and taken to Finland. In actual fact, they have had nothing of the sort happen and are actually involved in creating some sort of god-like superhuman.

This is one of those stories where everything seems to have been thrown in. There's some meanderings on the cyclical nature of cosmology and religion, combined with contemporary cultural references and the perhaps inevitable psychedelic dream sequences. It should be a combination I dislike, but I was impressed by the fast-pace and enthusiasm of it all. Rather odd, but I liked it. 3 out of 5.

Songflower, by Kenneth Hoare

The title gives this one away, a minor tale of what happens to sailors – sorry, spacemen – when they call into port. In this case, they spend time in bars with aliens and then get fleeced by local traders with an alien singing plant. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Dr. Peristyle

In the reviews this month James Colvin (aka Mike Moorcock – how does he manage the time?) evaluates H L Gold’s story collection The Old Die Rich and the “undemanding” fourth volume in the New Writings in SF series edited by John Carnell.

New name Ron Bennett reviews The Joyous Invasions by Theodore Sturgeon in some detail. Hilary Bailey (aka Mrs. Moorcock) reviews The Screaming Face by John Lymington, The Thirst Quenchers by Rick Raphael and the ‘frightening’ Paper Dolls by L. P. Davies.

So to Dr. Peristyle. This perhaps has to be read, rather than described:

As you can see from the extract above, here the not-so-good Doctor answers, in his acerbic style, questions asked by readers. It’s all in good-humour and a little silly, but it made me smile.

In terms of Ratings, no great surprises for issue 151 from June.

But as I mentioned earlier, hasn't Vernor done well? I expect to see more American authors in the future.

Summing up New Worlds

How much you like this issue will depend on how much you like Bill, the Galactic Hero. It dominates the issue in terms of pages, although there is a little variety in terms of the shorter stories. I liked the Moorcock, which I was surprised to find that I liked more than his other material of late, and would happily read more of the free-wheeling, asexual, anti-hero Jerry Cornelius in the future.

The message is clear, though – this ‘new’ New Worlds is not afraid to make fun of what has come before it, as it sets off to blaze a new trail. It’s edgy and a little cynical, although at the same time rather British in its gentle manner of knocking down precious icons of the science fiction world.

Summing up overall

Both issues have their strengths and weakness this month. However, the continued excellence of The Furies means that this month’s best issue for me is Science Fantasy.

And that’s it for this time. I'm off to get more British sun!

A snapshot of Margate this summer.

(Or perhaps not.)

Until the next…

(come join us in Portal 55, Galactic Journey's virtual lounge!)



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[July 26, 1965] Too much Monk-y Business (Doctor Who: The Time Meddler)

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By Jessica Holmes

Hello, everyone! Following the harrowing experience inflicted upon me earlier this month, with The Chase proving to be a disappointment, and the affront to my very soul that was Dr. Who And The Daleks, I had begun to fear that I would never recover. However, The Time Meddler has been a balm for my poor soul. Dennis Spooner, thank you. Thank you for giving me some Doctor Who that I can genuinely enjoy.

Text reads: The Watcher

THE WATCHER

The TARDIS feels a lot emptier without Ian and Barbara, that’s for sure. However, Vicki and the Doctor soon realise they aren’t alone, and find Steven Taylor from the previous serial in their living quarters.

The Doctor doesn’t look one bit impressed with his stowaway. It doesn’t help that Steven keeps referring to the Doctor as ‘Doc’. Who does he think The Doctor is? One of the seven dwarfs?

Img description: Steven stands in the foreground. In the background, the Doctor uses his coat as a shield and Vicki wields a shoe.
I love their choice of tools for self-defence.

The TARDIS materialises at the base of a coastal cliff, its arrival spotted by a monk up on the clifftop, who regards the box with a strange sense of understanding.

Before we can get to that, however, the Doctor and Vicki had better show Steven the ropes, the Doctor rattling off the names of every bit of kit in the control room, including the furniture for the sake of facetiousness.

Steven accepts that the TARDIS is bigger on the inside, but refuses to believe that it’s a time machine. Mate, you literally just came from a planet populated by walking mushrooms where you were held captive by Christmas tree baubles until a bunch of angry pepperpots turned up. Does time travel sound any more absurd to you?

Ticked off, the Doctor decides to prove to Steven that his ship really can time travel.

Image description: Two men and a woman. All are dressed as medieval peasants.

Meanwhile, in a village nearby, a bunch of unwashed peasants are discussing the mysterious box that just washed up on the beach. A couple of the men decide to go and look for it.

On the beach, Vicki finds an affront to history. Sorry, I mean she finds a Viking helmet. With horns on.

The Doctor sarcastically asks Steven if he thinks it’s actually a space helmet for a cow, seeing as he still refuses to accept it as an authentic Viking helmet.

Image description: Vicki and the Doctor stand in front of the TARDIS. The Doctor is holding a horned Viking helmet
Frankly, he’s absolutely right for the wrong reasons. Vikings did not wear horned helmets – not to battle, at the very least. Just think how impractical it would be.

I think the Space Cow explanation is quite a bit more likely.

The group decide to go exploring a bit and see if they can prove to Steven that they really have time-travelled, because apparently an actual Viking helmet wasn’t good enough.

I rather enjoy Steven and the Doctor taking sarcastic jabs at each other. It’s quite funny. I’m really warming to Steven in general, actually.

Once the group moves off, the Doctor going one way and Steven going another with Vicki, the monk from the clifftop approaches the ship and attempts to get inside, thankfully to no avail.

Image description: The Monk listens at the door of the TARDIS

The Doctor eventually arrives at the village and meets a woman, Edith, who gives him a horn of mead once her initial caution wears off. Through a little discussion, the Doctor manages to glean that King Edward died earlier this year, making Harold Godwinson the new king. Much to the Doctor’s delight, he realises that must mean it’s 1066.

And the absence of a history teacher doesn’t mean we don’t get History Lesson Time, as the Doctor talks to himself (while mugging into the camera) about the soon-to-come invasion of Harald Hardrada, and then William the Conqueror.

Image description: Edith and the Doctor sit together.

The village is not far from the Monk’s monastery, the rhythmic chanting easily audible from Edith’s house. However, as the Doctor listens, the singing slows, distorting as it stops…rather like stopping a record.

Well, something dodgy is going on here.

He asks Edith, and she tells him she’s never actually seen the monks at the monastery, which had been abandoned for years until recently, but she hears them often.

Could it be that the Doctor isn’t the only one around here that doesn’t belong?

Steven and Vicki stop to rest, having got themselves lost. They spot a man, who finds something shiny on the ground, and against Vicki’s advice Steven jumps up and tackles him, having apparently forgotten his manners after two years of isolation. I wouldn’t have thought ‘rugby-tackling people is considered impolite’ would be an easy thing to forget, but I’ve never been marooned anywhere.

Image description: Steven holds up a wristwatch. Vicki is looking at it.

Steven manages to wrest the mysterious shiny object from the man’s hands, and makes an interesting discovery: it’s a wristwatch.

The Doctor travels up to the monastery and follows the sound of the singing, tracing it to a gramophone record player. However, he pays for his curiosity as a cage door comes down on him, trapping him as the Monk arrives to laugh at his misfortune.

This is pretty interesting so far. Consider my curiosity piqued.

Image description: The Doctor stands behind wooden bars. The monk looks in at him.

THE MEDDLING MONK

The Monk takes the Doctor prisoner, but he’s nice enough to bring the Doctor quite a decent breakfast in the morning, prepared with some very anachronistic kitchen appliances, like a toaster. Elsewhere, Vicki and Steven come under attack in the woods, the Anglo-Saxon men springing from the bushes to capture these strangers.

To be fair, there is the looming threat of invasion. In fact, the first party of Vikings is already approaching. The Monk seems to have been anticipating their arrival.

Image description: Vicki and Steven with three Saxon peasants.

The Saxons take Vicki and Steven, who is finally starting to believe that he really has travelled back in time, back to their village, where the headman, Edith’s husband, stops them doing anything rash for long enough for Edith to inquire if they’re looking for an elderly man with long white hair.

Vicki and Steven answer in the affirmative, and the headman lets them go, satisfied that they’re just travellers, sending them on their way with a pack of provisions.

Image description: The Viking leader wearing an elaborate helmet topped with an eagle. In the background, another Viking is hidden behind a decorated shield.
Do you think he knows how silly he looks? Also, I can't find any similar helmets in my research, so this may be silly AND inaccurate.

A band of Vikings come ashore close by. Strictly speaking, we should call them Norsemen, seeing as they’re here to scout ahead for the rest of the fleet, and not to go viking, which is more of a job than a culture. Being pedantic is a hobby of mine.

Vicki and Steven reach the monastery, where they meet the Monk, who claims to have seen no sign of the Doctor. If that’s true, then, how is it that he rattles off a perfect description of the man when nobody has even told him what the Doctor looks like?

Vicki is suspicious, however, thinking that he gave himself away far too easily. Steven wants to break into the monastery right then and there, but Vicki cautions him that that is probably exactly what the Monk wants them to do, so they wait until nightfall.

Image description: Edith's husband and another woman look down on Edith as she lies down. She appears traumatised.

With nightfall comes the arrival of the Vikings to the little village, and poor Edith, alone at home, bears the brunt of their brutality. They don’t kill her, and it’s not shown on screen what they did to her, but her husband finds her virtually catatonic from the trauma, so I think we can make an educated guess as to the implication.

Hopefully it will just fly over the younger viewers’ heads.

Edith manages to come around a bit and tells the others that it was the Vikings, and the men ready themselves to track Edith’s attackers down. It doesn’t take long, and a very unconvincing brawl ensues, killing one and driving the others off.

Vicki and Steven break into the monastery. It’s quite funny how they keep trying to vie for the leadership of their little group, trying to boss each other around. I say that seeing as Vicki’s been at this time-travelling lark for far longer than Steven, she gets to be in charge.

The headman brings one of the wounded Saxons to the monastery, distracting the monk as Vicki and Steven snoop about, soon finding the record player. They manage to find the Doctor’s cell, and Steven picks the lock, only to discover that the cell is empty, the shape on the bed they had assumed was the Doctor revealed to be nothing but a bundle of rags. He’s vanished!

Image description: In the foreground there is a gramophone record player. Vicki and Steven are behind it, looking at one another.

A BATTLE OF WITS

Vicki and Steven soon discover that the Doctor has escaped through a tunnel hidden behind a loose stone in the cell, prompting Steven to remark, “Who’s a clever girl, then?” For goodness’ sake, Steven, she’s a young woman, not a well-trained poodle. No need to be so patronising.

Image description: Vicki looks over her shoulder

The pair follow the passage, and the Monk returns to an empty cell, much to his confusion.

The Doctor, meanwhile, has safely made his way back to the village and meets up with Edith, who tells him about the Viking attack. He rushes off in a hurry, pausing, however, to let Edith in on a little secret: the king will defeat the Vikings.

He doesn’t mention the Normans who turn up a few weeks later, though. Got to have some surprises, I suppose.

Vicki and Steven emerge from the tunnel, Steven finally believing that he has time-travelled, but he still can’t stop thinking about the anachronistic things they’ve seen. The pair decide to find the Doctor and investigate further.

Image description: The wounded Saxon lies in an alcove. The Monk feeds him something, as the headman watches them with his sword drawn.

Back at the monastery, the Monk continues to be a curious individual. I very much enjoy his character. He’s the antagonist of the serial, that’s for sure, but I don’t think I’d characterise him as a villain. Yes, he did kidnap the Doctor, but then the Doctor’s no stranger to a little kidnapping from time to time. He gives the wounded Saxon some penicillin, telling him that it’s just a special herb. The headman leaves his friend with the monk to recover, to the monk’s reluctance, and leaves to prepare for the arrival of the very badly-dressed Vikings.

Really though, they look dreadful. They’re practically wearing potato sacks! By this point in history a Norseman and a Saxon would look pretty much alike on the battlefield, save for the shape of their shields. This lot look as if they just raided a rubbish fancy dress shop.

Image description: Two Vikings crouch together.

A couple of the Vikings find themselves isolated from the group, and decide their best option is to request sanctuary at the monastery. After all, it’s not as if the Monk can refuse, but the Monk already has a surprise guest: the Doctor, cane in hand and demanding answers.

Vicki and Steven struggle to track the Doctor down, but they stumble across something interesting in their search. Atop the cliffs, they find some sort of advanced weapon pointing out to sea. Figuring this has something to do with the mysterious Monk, they start heading back to the monastery via the secret tunnel.

Image description: The Doctor stands behind the Monk.

Back at the monastery, the Doctor and the Monk are in something of a battle of wits, as the Doctor tries to coax information from the Monk, who keeps dodging his questions and trying to get rid of him. There’s a knock at the door, and the Doctor agrees to keep up the Monk’s ruse a little longer if it’ll get him answers, so dons the appropriate robes and invites the Vikings inside. I say ‘invites’, but really the Vikings just went straight for the death threats, which is rather rude of them.

By morning, the Viking on guard finds the Doctor’s cell apparently empty, and rushes to the secret exit, which has been left wide open. As he looks into it, the Doctor emerges from behind the cell door where he was hiding, and clobbers him.

Image description: The Doctor steps from behind a door, wearing a monk's robes.

The Monk gets down to the village, where he tries to enlist the men to help him light signal fires. However, the Saxons are suspicious, and Edith tells her husband about the Doctor’s warning of an impending invasion.

Vicki and Steven finally make it into the monastery as the Doctor confronts the Monk. In the monastery’s chapel, Vicki and Steven find a large stone sarcophagus, which for some reason has a power cable plugged into it.

Upon investigating further, they find that the sarcophagus is big enough to climb inside. It looks a bit of a snug fit at first sight, but wouldn’t you know it’s bigger on the inside? That’s right. It’s a TARDIS.

The Monk has a TARDIS.

Image description: Vicki and Steven stand in the doorway of a TARDIS.

I really enjoyed this episode. The reveal at the end honestly made me gasp. We know of course that there are other ships that can time travel in the Doctor’s universe, but more TARDISes? What is the plural of TARDIS? Tardises? Tardii? Tardodes? Or is it like ‘sheep’ where the plural of TARDIS is TARDIS?

The whole dynamic between the Doctor and the Monk is delightful to me. The pair have a real chemistry with each other, making them a joy to watch.

Let’s see how it all turns out, shall we?

Image description: The Doctor looks over the Monk's shoulder. He looks very angry.

CHECKMATE

The Monk reveals to the Doctor that he’s going to lure the Vikings to the cliffs, where he’ll destroy them.

Inside the Monk’s TARDIS, Vicki and Steven find the Monk’s ‘collection’ of pilfered artifacts from various cultures and time periods.

Oh, so it’s like a time travelling version of the British Museum?

Image description: Vicki and Steven examine an assortment of historical artefacts.

That’s not all he’s been getting up to, though. As he tells the Doctor, he gave Leonardo da Vinci the idea to try making a flying machine, and also had the rather clever idea to put a few bob in the bank, hop forwards a couple hundred years, then collect on the compound interest.

The Doctor vehemently disapproves, of course, but the Monk insists that time travel is more fun this way. And it’s not as if he hasn’t put his footprint on history before. After all, could the ancient Britons really have built Stonehenge without the assistance of anti-gravity devices?

The Monk explains his plan to help Harold Godwinson beat William of Normandy. It’s simple enough at its core: just make sure he doesn’t have to fight Harald Hardrada.

Image description: The Monk and the Doctor.

He’s come to the site of Hardrada’s landing, and positioned an atomic cannon on the cliffs. When the invasion fleet shows up, he’ll blow them sky-high, so that Harold Godwinson doesn’t have to fight Harald Hardrada. That’ll save him thousands of casualties weakening his army, and his troops won’t be exhausted from weeks of marching and fighting when they get to Hastings. With any luck, he’ll be able to drive the Normans back, and Britain will remain Anglo-Saxon.

If nothing else, maybe English spelling would be a bit more consistent in the future.

The knocked-out Viking comes around and releases his comrade, the pair deciding to stick around for the sake of safety (but probably realising they need to be a lot more wary of the old men).

The Monk shows the Doctor to his TARDIS, teasing him about being unable to fix the cloaking device of his own. As he’s doing that, the wounded Saxon sneaks out of the monastery.

The Doctor notes that the Monk has a newer, shinier TARDIS than he does. Jealous, Doc?

Image description: Vicki, the Doctor, Steven and the Monk stand in the Monk's TARDIS.

They find Vicki and Steven, who themselves have discovered the Monk’s checklist. The Doctor confirms that the Monk is from the same place as him (wherever that is), but probably from about 50 years in the future from the point the Doctor left home, going by his TARDIS.

Really, the Doctor and the Monk are a lot more alike than the Doctor would probably like to admit. Both are eccentric and mysterious time-travelling old men, and like the Doctor, the Monk does actually want to help the people he comes across. He just has a different way of going about it. Whereas the Doctor tends to avoid interfering too much with recorded historical events, the Monk sees no problem with it. He figures that a few changed history books is worth keeping Harold on the throne, and keeping French nobility away from the English crown might avoid the subsequent centuries of wars over succession.

I’m already very doubtful, but it gets worse.

With a little nudging, the English might have aeroplanes by the 14th century, and perhaps rather than at the Globe, Shakespeare might be putting his plays on television. I’m sorry, but no. You can’t change possibly the most significant historical event in English history and expect there to be no massive ripples.

Sorry, Monk, but I’m with the Doctor on this one. You can’t possibly predict the end results of a change that big. The Doctor wastes no time in telling the Monk exactly what he thinks of his plan, but the Monk isn’t really open to constructive criticism, choosing to make a break for it. He doesn’t get far before running into the Vikings, who he gets away from by hailing King Harald and pointing out the other three as enemies of the Vikings.

Image description: The wounded Saxon is with the headman of the village and Edith. A number of other villagers are visible.

In the village, Edith and her husband tell the other villagers about the impending invasion, and share their suspicions about the monk. The wounded Saxon makes a timely appearance, and tells everyone that there are already Vikings at the monastery. With no time to lose, the whole village takes up arms (yes, even Edith!) and heads up to the monastery.

They find the Vikings en-route to set signal fires for the Monk, who told them that they would aid the invasion fleet. Successfully chasing them off, Edith enters the monastery and frees the travellers, before heading out again, spear in hand, to chase down the invaders. I heartily approve, and I think the Doctor does, too. He seems quite taken with her, in fact.

Image description: Vicki, the Doctor, and Steven stand with Edith. Edith is holding a spear.

The Monk continues to flee with the Vikings, and distracts them so that they get delayed and captured, enabling him to slip away. Little does he know, however, that back at the monastery the Doctor is tampering with his TARDIS. Satisfied with his handiwork, the Doctor leaves a note for the Monk, and leads the others back to his own TARDIS. Job done?

Back at the cliffs, the gang find the TARDIS safe and sound, undamaged by its time underwater.

We’ve also got a nice moment of character development, as the Doctor cheerfully declares he’s quite happy to have Steven along for the ride with Vicki. He’s come a long way from threatening to abandon his companions for annoying him.

Image description: Steven, Vicki and the Doctor stand outside

But what of the Monk?

Rather the worse for wear and with his plan in ruins, the Monk decides he’d better be moving on. He finds the note left for him, saying that the Doctor might release him at some point if he’s a good boy. But what does he mean by that? Well, when the Monk looks into his TARDIS, he gets a nasty shock– it’s the same size on the inside as it is on the outside. The Doctor’s nicked the dimensional control, and marooned the Monk!

That’s karma for you. Perhaps he’ll learn his lesson?

Image description: The Monk peers through the doors of his shrunken TARDIS. Only his head is visible.

Final Thoughts

Needless to say, I really enjoyed this serial. It was a fun twist on the pure historicals we usually see, blending that fantastical element into the historical setting in a fun way. I hope to see more experiments like this.

I think I can confirm I definitely like Steven. Peter Purves is funny and charming, and Steven reminds me of a lot of blokes I know. That could just be Purves’ Lancashire accent, though.

A special mention has to go to Peter Butterworth for his portrayal of the Monk. It’s not often that an antagonist on Doctor Who delights me so much, but he gives a thoroughly entertaining performance. His entire demeanour is very Doctor-like, though a bit more mischievous, and with a self-serving streak. He’s like how I imagine the Doctor might have turned out if he didn’t have anyone around to keep him in check. Not particularly malicious, but definitely a law unto himself. He plays very well opposite Hartnell, and I’d enjoy seeing him again at some point.

Additionally, going over my notes I’ve just realised that Edith’s actress, Alethea Charlton, has been in Doctor Who, all the way back in The Firemakers. She was Hur, the cavewoman. I’ve really no memory for faces.

I can go on at some length when I’m not particularly impressed with a serial, but it’s quite hard when it’s the other way around. What can I say? I’m English. We like complaining.

There really isn’t much to complain about, though. I suppose if I did have to nitpick, I’d have liked the Vikings to be a bit more fleshed-out. They’re the weakest part of the serial, not being especially interesting to me. They serve a purpose, but not much beyond that. And the helmets are still a travesty.

I suppose the same goes for the Anglo-Saxons. I can’t remember the names of any of them except Edith, and she was the only one I really cared about, because of her extra screen-time.

Even so, that’s really a minor quibble. It’s simply a well-written, well-acted serial which doesn’t overstay its welcome and doesn’t rush itself either. What more could you ask for, except for more serials like this?

4 out of 5 stars




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Movies

[July 24, 1965] Sun, Sand, Surf, Swimsuits, And The Supernatural (How To Stuff A Wild Bikini and a Brief History of Beach Movies)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Guilty Pleasures

We all have secret vices. I have to confess to a few myself. One of them is so embarrassing that I blush to mention it.

I watch beach movies.

You know, those things where a bunch of young folks go to the side of the ocean to dance, surf, make out, and engage in comic antics? These films are really, really stupid, cheap little catchpenny efforts designed to lure teenagers to the drive-in, where they'll most likely ignore the screen and pay more attention to each other.

I like them.

There are too many of these goofy movies to talk about in detail, so I'll just mention a few before I get to the main topic of discussion.

The genre probably started with Gidget (1959), adapted from the novel Gidget, the Little Girl with Big Ideas (1957), about a teenage girl surfer.


Yes, I've read the book.


And I saw the movie. The nickname Gidget, by the way, comes from the phrase girl midget, oddly enough.

Other early examples include Where the Boys Are (1960), dealing with the misadventures of four man-hungry college co-eds enjoying spring break in Florida, and the inevitable sequels Gidget Goes Hawaiian (1961) and Gidget Goes to Rome (1963). (Weirdly, a different actress plays the title role in each film in the trilogy. I should know, because I've seen every darn one of them.)

As a change of pace, there was the serious drama Ride the Wild Surf (1964), which had a great theme song by Jan and Dean.

And I would be remiss if I didn't mention the all-time classic The Horror of Party Beach (1964), so eloquently celebrated by our Noble Host.

The trend really got started, however, with the unexpected success of Beach Party (1963), the first in a series of films starring ex-Mousekeeter Annette Funicello and teen idol Frankie Avalon.

At this point, the second question you're asking yourself (the first being Has she lost her marbles?) is What does any of this have to do with science fiction and fantasy? Well, besides the obvious relevance of the Party Beach Horror, many of these Frankie and Annette epics contain elements of these genres, sometimes minor, and sometimes major. Let's take a quick look at previous entries in the series before we get to the latest one, which arrived in theaters a couple of weeks ago.

Werewolves, Martians, Mermaids, and Other People You Find at the Beach

Beach Party (1963)

Plot: An anthropologist studies the primitive mating habits of teenagers.

Fantasy content: A couple of characters, who will show up again in later films, have bizarre telekinetic powers, of the kind you'll never see in Analog.

First of all, there's Candy, played by Candy Johnson, a woman who can dance incredibly fast. She has the ability to literally knock men down by — how can I put this delicately? — thrusting the lower back part of her body at them.

Then there's Erik Von Zipper, played by talented comic actor Harvey Lembeck. (You may remember him from Stalag 17 and The Phil Silvers Show.) He's the leader of the Rats, the local motorcycle gang that serves as the primary antagonist in most of the films. The anthropologist puts him in a trance by touching his head with his finger. Von Zipper uses the same technique in later movies, often accidentally doing it to himself.


Robert Cummings, as the anthropologist, freezes Harvey Lembeck's brain.

Personal note: Watch for a last-minute cameo role from a famous horror movie actor.

Muscle Beach Party (1964)

Plot: A group of bodybuilders try to take over the favorite beach area used by our heroes. Meanwhile, an Italian countess tries to steal the affections of Frankie away from Annette.

Fantasy content: In a scene so brief you'll miss it if you blink, a werewolf answers a telephone.

Personal note: Another cameo by a famous horror movie actor.

The movie suffers terribly from the absence of Erik Von Zipper and his gang, a mistake which will not be repeated in the following films. On the other hand, it's got a great musical performance by Little Stevie Wonder, not yet fourteen years of age at the time.


Little Stevie Wonder sings, and Candy Johnson dances; a combination that can't be beat.

Bikini Beach (1964)

Plot: A millionaire tries to prove that a trained chimpanzee is smarter than the teenagers at the beach. Meanwhile, a British rock 'n' roll star threatens to win Annette's heart.

Fantasy content: The chimp displays abilities far beyond those of a normal member of its species.


Like riding a motor scooter, for example.

That's because it's played by Janos Prohaska, who makes a specialty of wearing costumes as primates and other creatures. You may have seen him in The Outer Limits, as the monster in the episode The Probe.

Personal note: Yet another famous horror movie star has a cameo role.

The British musician, known as the Potato Bug, is played by Frankie Avalon in a double role. He's quite funny in what is clearly a spoof of the Beatles.

Pajama Party (1964)

Plot: As the first step in an invasion, a Martian named Go-Go arrives on Earth.

Fantasy content: See above. Because of its science fiction theme, I have to include it as part of the series, although it's somewhat different. No beach, for one thing. Annette plays Connie, instead of her usual role as Dee Dee, and Frankie Avalon only has a cameo appearance. However, Erik Von Zipper shows up, which justifies placing it on the list. Note that I do not include Ski Party (1965), although it is somewhat similar in tone to the beach movies, because it lacks any of the same characters. (I think too much about these things.)

Personal note: Watch for the great Buster Keaton, unfortunately cast as a stereotypical American Indian. We'll see a lot more of him later.


Keaton in the embarrassing role of Chief Rotten Eagle, with assistant Helga, played by Bobbi Shaw. We'll see her again, too.

Beach Blanket Bingo (1965)

Plot: A singer and her publicity agent get mixed up with the beach gang. She gets kidnapped by the Rats and our heroes have to rescue her from the clutches of the sinister South Dakota Slim. There's also some skydiving.

Fantasy content: In a major subplot, one of the beach boys falls in love with a mermaid.


Her name is Lorelei, and she is played by Marta Kristen.

Personal note: South Dakota Slim is played by Timothy Carey. You may have seen him in a couple of Stanley Kubrick films. He was the guy who shoots the horse in The Killing, and one of the doomed soldiers in Paths of Glory.

That Old Black Magic; Or, The Voodoo That You Do So Well

How to Stuff a Wild Bikini (1965)


Any film that has a trailer narrated by a pelican is OK in my book.

With all of that background in mind, let's take a close look at the latest offering from American International Pictures. Before I get started on the film itself, however, allow me to praise the opening credits. The clay animation is the work of Art Clokey, best known for creating Gumby, and it's very cool.


Just a sample. I seriously suggest that you go to your local drive-in and watch the movie, even if you drive away after the titles are over. They're well worth a look.

We begin with Frankie, serving in the Naval Reserve on a Pacific island named Guna Guna. His tour of duty seems like a pretty soft one, as he spends his time hanging out with a lovely young woman. Without any sense of irony, he wonders if his girlfriend Dee Dee is fooling around back in the States. The local lass brings him to a witch doctor, oddly named Bwana.


Irene Tsu, whose character is only known as Island Girl, and Buster Keaton as Bwana.

In exchange for torpedo juice — what you and I would call booze, although we'll later see that it literally comes out of torpedoes — Bwana will work his magic. With the help of his daughter, as yet unseen, he casts a couple of spells.


Bwana at work, with his assistant Khola Koku, played by Bobbi Shaw. She has a Swedish accent, like the character she played in Pajama Party.

One spell creates a pelican that will follow Dee Dee around and let them see what she's doing, in a sort of transoceanic television. The other sends an empty leopard skin bikini to the beach where Dee Dee hangs out.


The wild bikini before stuffing, in the movie's brief animated sequence.

This leads to some memorable dialogue.

BOY: Wow! Dig that wild bikini!
GIRL: It ain't nothin' without the stuffin'!

Recognizing a song cue when they hear one, the beach guys break into the title tune.

Thirty-six
Twenty-two
Thirty-six
That's how you
Stuff a Wild Bikini!

A moment later, the stuffing arrives, in the form of a stunningly gorgeous and shapely redhead named Cassandra, created by the powerful magic of Bwana's daughter.


Beverly Adams as the stuffing.

The idea is that every red-blooded male on the beach will drool over Cassandra, and not bother with Dee Dee. A reasonable plan, as Annette Funicello was pregnant during filming, and wears loose blouses and slacks throughout the film, instead of the skimpy swimsuits adorning all the other young ladies in the movie.

Unfortunately, Cassandra was created with one little problem.

BWANA: Daughter blew it with decoy. Mix up important ingredients. Use one ounce dove’s blood instead of one ounce gazelle blood. Dove blood make love, gazelle blood make graceful. Boy come along, jar her giblets, now all we have is lovesick stumblebum. (Turns to face audience) And that’s all the plot you’re gonna get out of me.

This speech from Keaton explains why Cassandra falls in love, and why she's as clumsy as she is beautiful. Her klutziness leads to a lot of slapstick antics.

Complications arise in the form of an ad man with the unlikely name of Peachy Keane. It seems that he's looking for the perfect Girl Next Door for a new ad campaign. Along for the ride is his assistant, Ricky.


Very Special Guest Star Mickey Rooney as Peachy eyes his choice for the Girl Next Door.

Meanwhile, Ricky, who is something of a playboy, has his eye on Dee Dee as his next conquest. I guess he prefers the sweet and innocent type rather than any of the countless bikini-clad sirens populating the film.


Dwayne Hickman as Ricky. Note the large bowl of popcorn, one of the many ways that Funicello's delicate condition is hidden from the camera.

As if all this weren't enough, our old friend Erik Von Zipper shows up, falls hard for Cassandra, and decides that he wants to be the Boy Next Door. This all leads up to a madcap motorcycle race, the winners — either Cassandra and Von Zipper, or Dee Dee and Ricky — to be chosen for the ad campaign.


I was rooting for these two. They're a lot more fun.

Well, we have to have a happy ending, so it won't surprise you that Frankie and Dee Dee, with some more help from Bwana's daughter, get back together. We only get to see the daughter, said to be the witch's witch, near the end, in another celebrity cameo.


I don't have to tell you who this is, right?

Worth a Trip to the Beach?

Let's face it; this is the silliest thing in the world. Even fans of the series will be disappointed by the fact that Frankie Avalon is barely in the movie, and has only one scene with Annette Funicello, which lasts a few seconds. The plot, such as it is, comes to a complete halt every few minutes for a song. (Even Erik Von Zipper sings twice.) Notable among these is The Perfect Boy, which contains some remarkable lyrics, provided by Dee Dee and a chorus of bikini girls.

The perfect boy doesn't have to be a Hercules
(Hercules)
The perfect boy doesn't have to be Euripedes
('Ripedes)

I didn't know beach bunnies were into ancient Greek playwrights.

On the other hand, there's something appealing about the unapologetic ridiculousness of the whole thing. The nutty story and wackiness of the gags encouraged me to turn off my brain and enjoy a sunny day by the sea.

It's not a cinematic classic, of course. I mean, you can't expect to have some film expert provide an introductory statement about the movie before showing it, the way you might for, say, Citizen Kane.

So rub on suntan lotion, grab your surfboard, and head down to your local seaside drive-in theater for some mindless entertainment.


Maybe not this one.

Our next Journey Show features Dr. Lisa Yaszek, a Professor of Science Fiction at Georgia Tech; Hugo Finalists Tom Purdom and Cora Buhlert; Marie Vibbert, author of 50 science fiction stories in magazines like Analog and F&SF; plus a musical performance by Lorelei!

DON'T MISS IT!




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