by Janice L. Newman

When we learned that last year’s Countdown was playing in San Diego theaters, The Traveler and I decided to make a night of it and drive down to watch it. The Traveler is a space buff, of course, so it was a natural fit. Would I recommend it? Well, it depends.

The story is simple and straightforward, with few surprises. When the Russians send up a civilian astronaut to circumnavigate the moon, with three more astronauts presumably soon to follow and actually land, NASA implements an emergency plan to get a man on the moon at any cost. He’ll be stuck there for a year, provided he can find and enter a previously-sent shelter pod before his oxygen runs out. Public relations concerns force NASA to tap the less-qualified civilian Lee for the role rather than their first choice, Colonel Chiz. After many conversations, discussions, arguments, and training sequences, Lee is sent to the moon to land a few days after the Russians. What happens next is, shall we say, narratively predictable, but I'll let you watch the movie to see for yourself.

Lee and Chiz in the modified Gemini that will go to the moon–it's clear NASA helped Warner Bros. make this film.

The movie feels grounded in realism in a way that few modern space movies do. This is a story of the ‘here and now’, with current technology, fashion, and language. It’s a bold choice, and a risky one. With technology changing so quickly, it seems likely that the movie will soon feel dated and possibly even silly. Within a couple of years, it’s highly likely that either the Russians or the Americans will succeed in landing on the moon, and what then? The story will simply be a ‘could have been’, perhaps interesting in its time, but quickly forgotten as it is eclipsed by true events. Unless the movie ends up being prescient. Who knows?

While the story and visuals are deeply entrenched in the ‘now’, however, certain aspects of the movie feel groundbreaking: specifically, the way sound is handled, both the conversations between characters and the music. I’ve never seen a movie or play where characters talk over each other so much. It’s confusing and sometimes frustrating, trying to follow the thread of a conversation as other characters are shouting. It feels more like ‘real life’ in some ways; after all, real conversations are often filled with interruptions, stops and starts which almost never show up on screen or stage. The technique was used a bit too much, perhaps, as sometimes I thought that it continued to an unrealistic degree. The actors seemed a bit uncomfortable with it as well, a few times starting or stopping in an artificial way. I imagine after training in one kind of acting, to do something so different must have been disconcerting. This is not to say that the actors did a poor job. Duvall in particular impressed me, turning in a powerful performance as the bitter passed-over Colonel Chiz.

Everyone talking at once–Altman's invention.

The real star of the movie, though, was the music. Atonal and dissonant music is not new. Arnold Schoenberg, for example, spent the first half of the century writing music that sounds strange to Classically-trained ears. What is new, at least to me, is the use of dissonance in a mainstream movie soundtrack, and not just for a moment or two, but for most of the movie. The soundtrack eschews the Romantic-style orchestral music which is standard in most films, and instead uses eerie, unsettling themes that swell and fade with high-pitched notes and low groans, punctuated by the occasional pounding of timpani. Still orchestral, but not sweet. Not predictable in its progressions, but rather filled with deliberately clashing chords. It’s not quite to the level of atonality that Schoenburg ended up writing, but it’s unusual and fresh, and it does an amazing job of building tension even absent of every other factor. In some ways, the soundtrack might have been more suited to a horror movie! Is this the beginning of a new trend in movie music? I understand that Planet of the Apes, which came out after this film, uses similar dissonant themes. On the other hand, I understand that 2001 features The Blue Danube and Also Sprach Zarathustra, which are both undeniably fine pieces of music, but hardly ‘modern’. So I guess we’ll see!

It's the music that really sells the scene as Lee struggles with the lunar simulator.

So do I recommend the movie? For space buffs, yes, absolutely. The grounding in modern technology and the efforts at realism will be appreciated by people who know what they’re looking at (even if, as The Traveler pointed out to me, they used footage of the wrong rockets). For everyone else? The plot is paint-by-numbers. The fate of the Russian astronauts didn’t come as a surprise. Nor did Lee’s. The conflicts of the movie—with Chiz, between Lee and his wife, between the surgeon and the head of the project—are all more or less resolved by the end. Everything is tied up neatly, and that’s that.

But even if space isn't your bag, if you love music, especially modern and unusual music, this film may well be worth the price of entry!

Three stars.

by Gideon Marcus

What an interesting beast Countdown is.  Like the novel, Marooned, it is very much of its time.  As Janice notes, it's instantly dated.  But the test of the plot isn't whether or not it could happen now, but whether or not it was plausible at a certain time.

There is clearly a point of divergence from our universe in this movie.  In the chronology of Countdown, a back-up "Gemini to the moon" plan was prepared.  The Soviets had more luck with their program, and, indeed, a completely different program (no mention is made of Soyuz in the film; it must have been written before April 1967.) With those facts as a given, the events of the movie make sense, and indeed, make a fascinating counterfactual.

The Soviet craft is exclusively referred to as a "Voskhod" (with varying degrees of mangling in the mouths of American actors)

The basic thrust of the movie is still relevant, even if the facts are dated.  As we speak, Apollo 8 is being planned for a circumlunar flight toward the end of the year.  We know the Soviets have been planning for such an endeavor, too, linking up their Soyuz craft in orbit in preparation.  That flight around the moon wasn't in the cards until we were worried the Communists might beat us to the punch.  What corners are we cutting to make it possible?

This is the movie's mission, but it's also Apoll 8's trajectory.

There's a lot to like about this movie.  The acting is excellent.  I recognize Robert Duvall from his endless TV roles (including "The Inheritors" and "The Chameleon" episodes of The Outer Limits and "Miniature", an episode of The Twilight Zone), and James Caan from the episode of Hitchcock, penned by Harlan Ellison, with Walter Koenig.  The direction is innovative, naturalistic and tight.  Newcomer Robert Altman does a lot with a little: this is clearly a low budget film, using flagrantly inaccurate stock-footage rockets (Atlas Agena for the first Pilgrim flight; a Titan II for the second) instead of a Saturn.  I'm kind of surprised they didn't use Saturn 1 footage, honestly.

Ted Knight as a Shorty Powers type describes the mission.  Note the Saturn V in the drawings.

But this is what we actually see–a Titan-Gemini launch.

There are two main motifs that run through this film.  The first is difficulties in communication.  Altman has his actors constantly talking over each other, often failing to listen to each other.  This manifests itself technically when Stegler's radio gives out, punctuating conversation with frequent drop-outs.

Reacting to a failure to communicate.

The second is, of course, countdowns.  Robert Duvall recites the numbers from ten to zero a dozen times in the film.  Altman knows there is suspense in that little trick, and despite its frequent use, it isn't really overdone.

Duvall counting down.

If there's a problem with the film, it's that, despite all the flurry and tension and concerns, there are really no decisions to be made.  Like a spaceflight mission, the movie completes its pre-planned trajectory with little input from the characters along for the ride.

So I think I give it 3.5 stars.  The execution deserves five; as a narrative, it's barely a two.  On the other hand, let's be honest–were these events to play out in real life, with astronauts in peril on the way to the moon, we'd be absolutely riveted.  Of course, in that case, we wouldn't necessarily know everything was going to be all right in the end…

But there's more!  Enjoy this bonus review of a…lesser Sci-fi movie.

by Gideon Marcus

There was no "Love Machine" in the movie I saw. I have no idea what it's talking about.

I shoulda run when I saw the "American International Pictures" logo.

Alright, it's true that AIP doesn't always make shlock, but this time, they indubitably did.  1964's The Time Travelers, directed (sort of) by Ib Melchior and also co-written by him is an hour and a half you'll never get back.

But is that really so bad?

We open up on a "lab" where an "experiment" in time travel is taking place.  Three scientists and a dopey electrician occupy the far left side of the room.  A screen, positioned clearly for our benefit rather than the scientists', occupies the middle of the room, showing where the time window is currently focused.

When the screen refuses to show the future, Steve, the headstrong beefcakey one, decides to push the circuits to their maximum.  The result is as expected: things spark and catch fire.  But serendipitously, the screen becomes more than a window–it's now a portal!  The dopey electrician goes through to investigate, the bohunk and the goateed elder scientist (made of wood or some other unmoving substance) go after him.  When weird humanoid mutants show up and menace Carol, the remaining scientist, she clobbers them with fire extinguisher exhaust.  Then the portal starts to collapse.  She goes through to warn bohunk and goatee…but it's too late.  They're all trapped. 

107 years in the future!

Thus ensues a chase that pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the film, because it goes on for what feels like a good five minutes.  Here's where I realized that there was no budget for retakes or second unit work.  What they shot, they had, and if they were going to fill a movie's run-time, they were going to use every last bit of it.

What's really funny is the four of them hold off about a dozen mutants, armed with spears, by throwing rocks at them.  For some reason, the mutants never think to throw their spears… or rocks.

Anyway, they stumble upon a cave complex guarded by an electric gate.  An attractive older woman in form-fitting trousers (there's a lot of form-fitting trousers in this flick) greets them, accompanied by a bunch of creepy, but not ineffective androids, and brings them to their council chamber.  Turns out that only most of humanity died in an atomic calamity (depicted in stock footage narrated by the council leader, none other than John Hoyt, who is in everything, including the original Star Trek pilot).

But though the mutants increase their attacks every day, there is hope.  The future humans have discovered an inhabitable world around Alpha Centauri (which Alpha Centauri, they don't say…) and have built a starship to get there called… "Starship".  I'm amazed there are no British actors in the cast because that's a British name if I ever heard one.

John Hoyt and… Starship.

1964's finest.

It's all very When Worlds Collide, up to and including the extreme caucasianicity.

At first, the four time travelers are offered a berth on Starship.  This is great because dopey electrician (you can see the impact he had on me–I don't remember his name) has fallen in love with the assertive beauty in form-fitting trousers, Reena (none other than Miss Delores Wells, Playmate of the Month for June 1960; don't ask me how I know this).

Ahem. Form-fitting trousers.

I do like that about this film–men and women seem to share power pretty equally in this future.  Except when it comes to fighting.  Then it's all up to the menfolk and androids.

Anyway, Councilman Willard, a real jerk, insists that Starship can't accommodate any more people, so the time travelers have but one option–build a time portal back to the past.

"I don't wanna take 'em with us!

It's finished at the same time Starship is ready, and also when the mutants make their final attack.  Starship launches but then explodes, killing all on board.  The mutants fight their way to the time portal room, slaughtering many men in form-fitting trousers as well as androids.  We get to see one android catch fire and burn.  For about a full minute.  Because, after all, they shot it, so it's gonna get shown.

"So much for being a real boy…"

The portal is finished in time, the time travelers jump through, along with Reena, John Hoyt, and a few other trouser people, and they find themselves back in the lab at the moment of their fateful experiment.  But they find that time has frozen for them.  Their only hope is to jump through the screen, currently focused on the far future.  They emerge onto a landscape reminiscent of the end of When Worlds Collide…hmmm.

Then, because run-time was short, they recapped the entire movie at an accelerated (or speeded up) rate, I guess to indicate a time loop.  In fact, they do it twice before rolling credits.

Things that are bad:

• The acting: even John Hoyt is bad.
• The cinematography: "Hey, I set up the camera–you want I should move it?"
• The pacing.
• The science (Lord, the science).

Things that are good:

• The score: sure, it doesn't always fit the action, but there is a groovy number that clearly influenced the theme of a certain show we all know and love…
• The scene with the half-mutant refugee that Carol saves from Willard–but nothing more is done with this wasted opportunity.
  
  
  You can't see that his hands are deformed claws of flesh–I wanted to see more of this kid.

• Delores Wells: look, I make it a point not to be a lech, but… vavavoom.
• The magic tricks: several times, they lift stunts straight from Harry Blackstone's repertoire–they take off an android's head and put it back on; dopey electrician is "teleported" from a magic box.  It's like Vegas, but on film!
• Superfan Forrest Ackerman has a cameo.
  
  
  Hey 4-E!

Two stars.  Don't fail to miss, even if it's tonight's Late Late Movie…unless you want a laugh and/or an eyeful of form-fitting trousers.

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