Tag Archives: science fiction

[March 14, 1968] Bugs in the machine (Star Trek: "The Ultimate Computer")

The MT Soul


by Joe Reid

Brothers and sisters, I am quite simply over the moon.  I feel rewarded and fulfilled due to what I just witnessed.  Above all else, I feel something that I haven’t felt in a while as a lover of Star Trek.  I feel respected.  As I enjoy the last few sips of my cocktail, I take pleasure in divulging my thoughts on “The Ultimate Computer”.  It was very good!  The end.


Liquor infused levity aside, I suppose I am obligated to expand on my thoughts.  The episode got off to a roaring start, with the Enterprise arriving at a space station with a visibly upset Kirk having been summoned to that station sans explanation.  When Kirk asked for an explanation, he was told that his explanation would be beamed aboard.  Commodore Wesley beamed in, someone who both Kirk and Spock appeared acquainted with.  Wesley told them that they were to participate in war games to test a new computer that would be installed on the Enterprise, replacing most of the crew.  Twenty crew members would be left aboard.

After the new M5 multitronic unit was installed, shrinking the crew, we met the tall and off-putting Dr. Richard Daystrom, creator of the M5.  He was a man lacking several human pleasantries, in that he was dismissive of people but very focused on and protective of the M5.  The two most human members of the crew, Bones and Scotty, caught Daystrom’s ire in the subsequent exchanges, demonstrating his preference for machines over men.


The new sheriff in town.

As the new M5 equipped Enterprise started its tour, it made a trip to a planet.  M5 took extra initiative, navigating the ship into its orbit and even picking assignments for an away team. It excluded Kirk and Bones, who it deemed to be unnecessary for the mission.  This bothered Kirk, who was already feeling put upon, having a computer taking on more of this job than he surmised.  The M5 also started turning off parts of the ship that were absent of crew members for some unknown reason.

Leaving the planet, the ship found itself under a sneak attack as a part of the war games Wesley had planned.  The M5 took complete control of the Enterprise, dispatching the attackers swiftly with weapons at 1% power as the exercise demanded.  This earned the M5 a success report from Wesley and Kirk a (perhaps joking) slight from the commodore, when Wesley called Kirk Captain “Dunsel”; dunsel referring to a part on a ship that serves no purpose.


"Good job, Captain Useless!"

Things were looking good for the M5 and Daystrom was very pleased with the outcomes, while Kirk flirted with depression at the thought of the day’s events.  It was at this time that the M5 took a bad turn, starting by its destroying (unprovoked) an automated ore freighter.  The crew quickly became adversarial toward the M5, which now had completely taken control of the ship.  All efforts to get control back from the rogue computer failed, even costing an engineer (not Scotty, thank heaven) his life.


Posthumous hazard pay is in order.

Daystrom was undeterred in his defense of his creation, not wanting to disconnect the M5, a sentiment which didn't change even as the real war games started when M5, using weapons at 100%, utterly defeated a group of starships and killed everyone on the Excalibur.  Daystrom didn’t even try to stop his creation until the M5 was threatened with destruction by the other ships.


Here comes the Piper.

In the end, it took Kirk, using his ironclad logic against the M5, which contained Daystrom’s embedded fears but also his morality, to prevail.  He prevented an attack not using the wizardry of technology, but by trusting in the intelligence, will, and heart of men.  Proving that spaceships still need men at the helm.

I loved this episode.  It had great acting, fantastic camera direction, an intelligent original story, and best of all, there was little to no exposition to explain what was happening to the audience.  We had to infer what everything meant based on the story elements provided.  Again, it was very good.

5 stars.


Homo ex machina


by Gideon Marcus

Star Trek, like much science fiction, often tries to convey messages in its stories.  Sometimes, it does so hamfistedly, other times contradictorily.  In "The Ultimate Computer", the show presented not one, but two themes simultaneously, and did so with subtlety and cleverness. Bravo.

Firstly, "Computer" addresses the specter of automation.  The episode does not endorse Luddism.  It is clear that someday at least some of the 430 jobs on the Enterprise will be performed by computer–indeed, halfway through the episode, the ship comes across a completely robot-controlled DY-500.  In other words, M-5's revolution is not the automation of spaceships, but the next development in their automation.

The dialogue between Bones and Kirk on the captain's impending obsolescence, as well as the undercurrent of tension between the captain and Commodore Wesley (who puts on a blustery front, but probably is no happier about M-5's ramifications than Kirk), are some of the best parts of the episode.

It should also be noted, that whenever computers have gone amok, it is not their fault: in "The Changeling", Nomad's functioning got cross-contaminated with Tan Ru's.  In "Court Martial", the ship's computer is deliberately tampered with by Ben Finney.  Even Landru in "Return of the Archons" only did what it was programmed to do.  In other words, computers are useful, inevitable, and desirable tools.

But this is not just a story of steam replacing sail, or iron horses replacing ponies.  It's about what happens when too much reliance is placed on automation without sufficient involvement of humans.  It's a cautionary tale in the same vein as Failsafe (the book or the movie).  No matter how sophisticated computers get, or what shortcuts their developers take to leapfrog their development, in the end, humans are necessary–to guide them, to control them, to maximize the utility of them.


The missing link–sane oversight.

One can quibble over details; this story was told in a dramatic way so as to get its point across in 50 minutes, and in doing so, there are some inconsistencies and some let-downs (the final confrontation between Kirk and the M5 is about two exchanges too short).  But for me, "The Ultimate Computer" feels like a return to form, one of the rare episodes of the second season that recaptured the essence of the first in feel, in technical proficiency, and coherence.

Four and a half stars.


Annoyingly Predictable


by Erica Frank

The M-5 is supposed to be able to run a ship normally crewed by four hundred with just 20 people. Of course, that turns out to be a lie, not because it can't, but because it doesn't bother with little details like, oh, following regulations, obeying the captain, and not killing people.

How the hell did this computer get approved for take-control-of-a-starship testing? And when Daystrom started to make excuses for it ("You don't shut off a child when it makes a mistake!"), why didn't Kirk immediately reply with, "You don't give a child command of a starship, either. And if a child grabs control of the family car and rams into another car – you don't let the child keep control. Shut this off NOW, or we'll start shooting our phasers into its circuit banks."

("But that would leave us floating dead in space!" he might answer. And Kirk could respond, "I'm sure someone will be along shortly to pick us up.")

Instead, Kirk lets it keep control long enough to kill over 60 people before getting Daystrom out of the way. Then he manages to use third-grade logic to get it to shut itself down: "What is the penalty for murder?" "Death." (Except we know otherwise – the only crime in the Federation with a death penalty was visiting Talos IV.) Unable to cope with the awareness that it violated its internal morality, it collapses.

…Where was that logic when it was shooting at the other ships? Why didn't the super-computer recognize the "laws of God and man" before it had broken them? Why didn't Kirk insist Daystrom talk it out of shooting before it had killed anyone? Shouldn't its logic work faster and more efficiently than a human's?

But we wouldn't get much story if the M5 had immediately recognized it was stuck between "defend myself" and "kill humans, whose protection is my purpose." So it couldn't notice that until the damage was done, its creator was unconscious, and Kirk was earnestly explaining exactly what it had done wrong.

As Snoopy might say: Bleah.

Just as dull as all the "psychic powers create sadistic manipulators" stories.

The acting was good. The story pacing was good. The explanations of the technology were good. Yet another "I liked everything but the plot" episode. Two stars.

Hey McCoy – got another Finagle's Folly lying around? I could use a drink.


"Here's to Erica, at least."





[March 12, 1968] Be Seeing You (The Prisoner)

The weekly news is up!  Please watch, enjoy, and mail in your comments to the station!



by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Television and Films over the last few years have been littered with spies. Many of them have been forgettable but one was ahead of the pack: Danger Man.

Example image of Danger Man showing McGoohan as John Drake

Starring the brilliant Patrick McGoohan as John Drake, it took a more cynical and grounded look at the world of secret agents, compared with the more fantastical exploits of James Bond or John Steed.

We were meant to be getting a new series of Drake’s adventures, produced in full colour for the American market. Instead, we heard, he was concentrating on a new espionage series, The Prisoner. I had expected some cross between the former show and The Fugitive. What we got was quite different.

Shot of The Village where the residents are chess pieces on the board

After resigning, the un-named McGoohan is transported to a village. There he is assigned the Number Six and the authorities try to either probe him for information or get him to do their dirty work. So far this could have been an episode of Danger Man similar to "Colony Three". But there are much stranger elements.

Firstly, the whole village is not simply an island prison, it has the unnerving sense of enforced jollity. Which makes it more unnerving. I found myself reminded of the planet in Doctor Who’s Macra Terror, with both having that holiday camp feeling with dark tensions underneath.

Number Six goes down to the beach to look at another resident who has been dragged ashore by Rover.

Then, we have Rover, the Village’s loyal “Attack Bubble”. It should not be scary for a giant roaring soap sud to be scary, but the way that people are trapped within it, straining to get out makes for a terrifying image.

There is also the governance of The Village, where (in spite of a system of elections and councils) the power lays with “Number Two”, a figure who changes each week (or even multiple times in a week) with their own different experiments.

Number Six dressed as Sherlock Holmes on a fairground ride.
Just another day in the strange life of Number Six

As the series progresses it gets stranger in its plots. We have duplicate number sixes, dream journeys, trips to Old West, not to mention the world’s strangest martial arts. Over the seventeen episodes McGoohan moves us from a man trying to escape into the surreality we would more expect from The Corridor People or Do Not Adjust Your Set.

Number Six on the operating table with a probe pointed at his head.
You WILL enjoy The Prisoner

These offbeat choices may have put some people off but I enjoyed them, albeit with a couple of caveats. It would sometimes go too much into trying to be direct satire, rather that something more broad and nebulous, particularly in McGoohan’s directed episodes. These tended to work less well as it felt like to author was trying to pontificate to the audience and never gave a sense that this world had an existence outside of serving these points.

The other, is that, all these choices played against trying to give a solid finish to the story. For example, we are shown two characters and told that they both represent forms of rebellion. One we are not sure if we have seen before (the actor appeared previously but the character may be new) and the other only a couple of times in a position of authority. In a less experimental format I could see these challenges being overcome and a tighter solution put together.

A group of hooded and masked people dancing.
All the different factions celebrating the show.

However, as an experiment it is still one I enjoyed seeing and exploring the fascinating setup from McGoohan and co.

A high four stars



by Fiona Moore

Lots of people who tuned in to The Prisoner and watched to the end are, apparently, disappointed. Those people are missing the point. The Prisoner isn’t a spy series, or an sf series, or a metaphor… and yet, it is all of those things. The Village is a real place… and yet it’s also a state of mind, a cloying conformity that, as the series itself demonstrates, could be found in London or the Wild West as much as in Portmeirion, where the series was actually filmed. The point many critics are missing is, The Prisoner is first and foremost a Rorshach test.


Make of him what you will.

Even the most straightforward episode of The Prisoner can be interpreted through multiple lenses. Want to see it as a spy series, a kind of Manchurian Candidate with extra surreal elements? As a spoof of spy series, dialling the conceits of Danger Man or James Bond up to maximum so the viewer is confronted with how ridiculous they actually are? As a Jungian exploration of one man’s psyche, and how it crumbles under the strain of atomic-age paranoia? As a metaphor for childhood, and the way in which we go from complete dependence on our parents to adolescent rebellion to (one hopes) a more balanced adulthood? As a twisted, op-art version of the Tibetan afterlife, as the soul refuses the temptation to return to the Wheel of Samsara and eventually seeks peaceful oblivion in Nirvana? You can find all of those in there. But you’re also never going to find one interpretation that fits the series throughout, because that’s not what it’s all about.


Is this the real Village?

The fact that the series’ ending is chaotic and strange is, therefore, perfectly in keeping with that. You could see “Fall Out” as a commentary on rebellion, or on nuclear proliferation, or on the relationship of the id to the ego and the superego. You could also just sit back and let the imagery flow past you, and draw from it the meaning that personally speaks to you, that allows you to relate the series to your own life and the personal and political struggles you face in the turbulent and strange times we live in.


No, it doesn't have to make sense.

The point is not to over-interpret, or to seek a prescriptive meaning for the series. Does it always succeed? No. But does it fail? Only if you wanted a story with a nice neat ending, where The Prisoner is (definitely) John Drake and Number One is some bald-headed type in a Nehru suit stroking a fluffy cat. Otherwise, I’d say just turn on, tune in, and enjoy where the ride takes you.


The Prisoner and friends enjoying the ride.

Six..er..four out of five stars.







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[March 10, 1968] The Best Laid Plans (Doctor Who: The Web Of Fear [Part 2])


By Jessica Holmes

The latest serial of Doctor Who tempers the base-under-siege formula with an infusion of ‘whodunnit’, but is this a fresh take on the format or are the mystery elements just a red herring? Let’s take a look at the latter half of The Web Of Fear.

EPISODE FOUR

The episode kicks off with a Yeti attack, with the beast absconding with Professor Travers and leaving Anne unconscious on the floor.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and company pursue Chorley in the hopes of preventing him from getting to the TARDIS, but there’s no sign of him in the tunnels. In fact, thanks to the rapidly encroaching fungus it’s completely impossible to get to the TARDIS. Wherever Chorley is, he’s not there.

They return to the base to find the aftermath of Travers’ kidnapping, and the Doctor wonders why the Yeti didn’t just kill him. Unless, of course, the Great Intelligence needed him for something.

With the situation growing more dire by the minute, the Colonel decides to lead an expedition over the surface to reach the TARDIS, load it onto a trolley, and send it back through the tunnels.

It does not go well.

The below-ground half of the mission immediately goes down the drain, with two men (Staff Sgt. Arnolds [Jack Woolgar] and another bloke whose name I failed to write down) dying in the attempt to send a trolley through a web-infested tunnel.

As for the surface, it’s a total bloodbath. Well, web-bath. The Colonel takes a couple dozen men up there, and a few action-packed scenes later, he’s the only one to make it back alive, empty-handed.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and Anne get to work on trying to find a way to control the Yeti. However, two of the Yeti control figurines go missing, and the Doctor works out that the Yeti are using them as homing devices.

What’s more, the Doctor collected a sample of the fungus earlier, but it seems to have mysteriously vanished—and the last person who laid hands on it was Evans.

Needing additional supplies in order to build a remote control for the Yeti-sphere, the Doctor persuades the Colonel’s subordinate, Captain Knight, to accompany him to the surface so he can pop to the shops.

This also does not go well.

As it turns out, Knight (unbeknownst to him) has one of the missing Yeti figurines, and the monsters find the pair in a matter of minutes. Knight is no match for a couple of Yeti, and promptly gets himself killed. The Doctor only survives because (I can only guess) the Great Intelligence calls them off at the last second. It seems the Great Intelligence’s plans for the Doctor are a little more sophisticated than simple murder.

The Colonel stumbles back to the base not long after the Doctor, and finds that he has the other missing figurine in his pocket. No wonder the surface mission went so badly.

The Doctor realises that the Yeti could be still homing in on the Colonel as they speak, but before the Colonel can destroy the figurine, the door bursts open.

In walk a pair of Yeti…and who should be with them but Professor Travers?

That’s an excellent twist, and had me eagerly anticipating the next episode.

EPISODE FIVE

I have good news and bad news. The good news is that Travers hasn’t suddenly turned out to be a secret evil mastermind. The bad news is that he’s being possessed by the Great Intelligence.

And the Great Intelligence has plans for the Doctor. It’s not particularly cross about the Doctor defeating it in Tibet. However, the Doctor caught his attention there, and the Great Intelligence is fascinated by the Doctor’s mind. So fascinated, it wants it for its own.

The process of stealing his mind won’t kill the Doctor, but it will more or less turn his brain into soup, and who knows what the GI might be getting up to while the Doctor is re-learning how to stand on two feet and eat solid food.

While the Doctor mulls over whether or not to give himself up, the Intelligence takes Victoria captive. Poor girl needs to take some self-defence lessons. She must be sick of being used as a bargaining chip every week.

As tempting as the offer is, the Doctor would rather take an option that doesn’t involve everyone being killed or his mind turning into mush.

While he works with Anne to try and get the control unit working, Jamie and the Colonel sneak out of the base to try and find where the Yeti have taken Victoria and Travers.

Evans puts his brain cell to work investigating the potential mole situation, and comes to the conclusion that it must be Jamie or the Colonel. And what does he do with this information? Holds them at gunpoint then crumples like a wet paper bag when the pair more or less roll their eyes and walk away. I can like a character who is smart but not brave. I can like a character who is brave but not smart. I have great difficulty liking a character who is neither.

Elsewhere in the Underground, the Intelligence is nice enough to let Travers have his mind back for the time being and Victoria catches him up on what he’s missed. He also discovers that Staff Sgt. Arnold still lives, and sends him to bring word of their location back to the Doctor. You may wonder why he doesn’t just go with him, but apparently the Yeti would notice. I mean, the Yeti didn’t notice him carrying on a full conversation with a third party, so maybe he needn’t have worried.

And if they did notice, so what? It’s not as if they can run very fast.

The Doctor and Anne manage to get their control sphere working, as well as a couple of remote controls, one of them voice activated. They find themselves a lone Yeti and swap out its control sphere for their own. Nice, now they can use the Intelligence’s own weapon against it!

However, they’re running out of time. The Intelligence gave the Doctor twenty minutes to hand himself over…but the fungus isn’t as patient.

EPISODE SIX

The Doctor and Anne, reasoning that they don’t know who they can trust, decide to conceal their feat of controlling a Yeti, and send theirs away. They’ll use it when the time is right. They reunite with the rest of the group, surprised to find that Arnold is alive. Everyone’s here except Evans, and that’s pretty dangerous if one of you is in league with the Intelligence. Sure enough, the Yeti surround them moments later.

Now would be a good time for Evans to find his courage and mount a rescue, but he has a Slinky where his spine should be. His cowardice doesn’t save him from being captured, however.

With some help from the Colonel, Arnold slips away from the Yeti as the group travel to the Intelligence’s base in hopes of finding help. Along the way, he discovers another unexpected survivor—the irritating journalist, Chorley.

The Doctor tells Jamie about his plan to control the Yeti, though he does have a little problem: he’s not sure which Yeti is his. Jamie will just have to get lucky. Failing that, he’ll have to run really fast, because he’s going to slip away from the group and try and find that Yeti.

These Yeti aren’t very observant, are they? Can’t even do a headcount before moving on to the next location.

They take the Doctor a little ahead of the group, which handily gives him the opportunity to freeze the Yeti escorting him and tamper with the device that will be used to scoop his brain out. And, for plot reasons, to avoid anyone else finding this out.

As for Jamie’s attempt to find the Doctor’s Yeti, it doesn’t go well. And he doesn’t even get a chance to run away.

It looks like the Doctor is going to lose his mind.

With everyone gathered in the Intelligence’s base, we finally find out who the mole is, courtesy of Chorley. It’s not him. It’s Arnold.

Who ever would have guessed?

Me. Actually no, I tell a lie. Before Arnold turned up alive I was half expecting it to be Anne.

…It made sense in my head. I’m a Holmes but not a Sherlock.

Much to Jamie’s consternation, the Doctor willingly puts on a silly hat (or mind-stealing helmet, potato po-tah-to) and sits inside the Intelligence’s device. It looks like a glass pyramid. The Intelligence likes its pyramids, doesn’t it?

What happens next illustrates the importance of communication. The Doctor has a plan, you see. He’s tinkered with the mind-stealing device so that rather than losing his mind, the process will be reversed, stealing the Intelligence’s mind and neutralising it for good.

But Jamie, suddenly faced with the responsibility of raising a 400-year-old baby, doesn’t know that, and panics. He still has the voice control device, so he yells into it, hoping that one of the many Yeti gathered in the room will obey him.

As luck would have it, one does. And as much as the Doctor tries to resist being rescued, eventually Jamie drags him out of the pyramid. Said pyramid then short-circuits and explodes, leaving the Intelligence without a connection to Earth, and the Doctor very put out.

Well, at least the Intelligence is gone…for now. And his puppet, Arnold, is dead. He seems to have been deep fried, but the Doctor suspects he’s been dead for quite some time; likely since before he even arrived.

How grim.

The Doctor makes an abrupt departure as Chorley starts to take an interest in him, promptly getting himself and his companions lost in the now fungus-free tunnels. They’d better work out where the TARDIS is soon…or the trains might beat them to it!

Final Thoughts

So, that was The Web Of Fear. It’s a good solid serial, well-paced with a decent cast of characters. That said, some of the characters were definitely more fun to watch than others.

Most of the soldiers were completely uninteresting which doesn’t really matter because they were more or less Yeti-fodder. Still, I might have cared a bit more whenever any of them died if any of them had much personality. Evans and Chorley are both too irritating for their own good, and I was actually hoping they’d end up on the wrong end of a Yeti, but alas we can’t always get what we want.

Anne’s great though, I hope she pops up again, like her father. The Colonel was pretty cool too, I like his ‘get stuff done’ attitude. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.

As for the Intelligence, I have a thought or two. It’s got no body, could be thousands of years old, can control people’s minds, and we don’t know where he came from. And yet I don’t think it’s scary enough. The Yeti are just too cuddly for me to take them, and by extension the Intelligence, as a serious threat. Maybe the Intelligence should start a cult, get itself some servants that aren’t eminently huggable.

The mystery made an otherwise quite standard plot a little more interesting, though I’m not sure Arnold being the mole is a particularly satisfying conclusion. He’s not much of a character. In fact, I didn’t think to mention him when covering the first half of this serial because he was such a non-entity. He wasn’t even nefarious, no motivation of his own, just a meat puppet for the Intelligence. That’s just not as much fun as a willing accomplice.

Assuming the trio don’t get splatted by a train, I look forward to seeing what adventures are in store next time on Doctor Who.




[March 8, 1968] Inglorious (Star Trek: "The Omega Glory")


by Gideon Marcus

Last year, Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry won science fiction's highest award, the Hugo, for writing the two-part episode "The Menagerie".  It was a deserved laurel.  After all, he not only had written the excellent pilot that formed the germ of the double-show, but also made a reasonably interesting extension to fit the new format.

Unfortunately, Roddenberry has yet to reach that high water mark again.  Despite having plenty of screenwriting experience, he seems to only have had that one good story in him.  First, there was his disappointing adaptation of "A Private Little War", originally by Jud Crucis (that's got to be a kind of Cordwainer Bird).  And now, we have his worst outing yet–"The Omega Glory":

The setup should be interesting.  Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and the red-shirted Lieutenant GAWLway beam aboard the abandoned but undamaged starship Exeter in orbit around an uncharted planet.  Everyone onboard has been reduced to crystals–sort of a reverse "Man Trap" phenomenon.  This seems shocking to Kirk and co. despite having seen a very similar phenomenon just last episode.  Obeying the exhortations of a tape by the mortally ill Exec of the Exteter (who, like Spock, is apparently a double-duty officer), they beam down to the planet.


"Save yourselves!  Go down to the planet!  I dunno why we don't, but you go ahead!"

There, they meet Captain Ron Tracey, the second active-duty Starfleet captain we've seen other than Kirk (we met four others in "Court Martial", at least one of whom had graduated to Starbase running).  According to Tracey, the planet confers immunity to the disease that killed his entire crew when the rest of the landing party beamed back aboard.  Also, the planet somehow makes all the inhabitants live life spans measured in millennia.

In the six months since Tracey beamed down, he teamed up with the 'Coms', "yellow" city-dwellers under siege by the savage "white" people.  Flagrantly violating the Prime Directive, more explicitly spelled out here than in any episode prior, he exhausted his hand phaser defending the village.


"We drained four of our phasers, and they still came. We killed thousands and they still came."

Now that Kirk is here, Tracey wants to go into the immortality bottling business, distilling the essence of the anti-disease and anti-aging qualities of the planet.

Except, as Bones soon figures out, there is no such thing.  The immunity is a natural (and permanent) phenomenon, and the natives live a long time because of freak genetics resulting from the near-total bacteriological catastrophe that wiped out civilization centuries before.

That's one thread of the episode.  The other involves finding out that this is a parallel Earth, like "Miri", and the 'Yangs' are the descendants of Americans (white ones, of course), adopting the ways of the Indians in order to survive, but carrying a corrupted tradition of Founding Father document worship.  Thus, they mangle the Pledge of Allegiance and the Constitution's preamble without understanding.  Luckily, Kirk is an avid historian, and he explains what these holy words really mean.  He also insists that the Coms (what's left of them–it appears the Yangs have killed nearly all of them by the end) are people too, and they need to be treated with the dignity and equality prescribed by our nation's most central document.


"This document is absolutely perfect as is.  It's a good thing you never made any changes to it."

And then they beam back to the Enterprise.  Happy endings for everyone.

Except the audience, of course.

So much about this show doesn't make sense, from the lack of children, to the paucity of population centers, to the way genetics and natural immunity works on the planet.  I won't even touch the racial aspects of the episode, which my colleagues are champing at the bit to address.

I will say that I am utterly confused by Captain Tracey's actions.  We've been led to believe that Starship captains are a breed apart.  Sure, Commodore Decker had his issues, but they were understandable given his situation.  But Tracey?  As soon as his crew fell ill and he didn't, you'd think he'd have beamed at least some of his people down.  And certainly he'd hold sacred the highest of orders (though not the one that violation incurs the death penalty.  That's number four.) Instead, he lets his crew die, doesn't warn Star Fleet of his situation, and becomes a little dictator.


"Crew?  What crew?"

The only thing that could possibly explain the situation is that "Ron Tracey" is actually Dr. Simon van Gelder, escaped from Tantalus without being cured, somehow assuming Captain Tracey's guise and stealing the "Exeter".  Outlandish?  Sure, but no more than this episode.


"I'm the real Captain Tracey!"

Two stars.  Why two?  Because I actually kind of dug how the show went back to the parallel Earth thing and didn't just abandon it for one episode.  Of course, they didn't do very much good with it…


When Worse Comes to Worst


by Janice L. Newman

We’ve had the best of episodes, we’ve had the worst of episodes. But never have I watched an episode so infuriating as “The Omega Glory”.

Like last week’s By Any Other Name, the story starts out promising. We’re swept up in the mystery and the danger to the senior officers we’ve come to know and love. And like “By Any Other Name”, it seems that “The Omega Glory” is prepared to play against expectations. On the planet Omega, the white people are violent and savage, while the non-white people (in this case apparently of Asian extraction) are peaceful and good. What a switch!

Just kidding! It turns out that the white people are the good guys after all. They’ll be setting up a democratic government any day now, and they’ll even let those no-good commies in…as long as the commies are okay with living under their system.


"I am Cloud McCarthy, and this is Wise Dicknixon.  We promise equality and fairness for the Coms."

I described Patterns of Force as “subtle as a brick”, but this episode went beyond that. The pro-democracy message was as direct and painful as a bludgeon to the face. It was all the more insulting in the way the white “yangs” (“Yankees”, GET IT?) started out as savage, violent, unwilling to parley or compromise, yet were still painted as the triumphant good guys in the end, for no other reason than that they were descendents of a Christian nation with an American democratic system (despite literally having no understanding of the very documents and principles they revered).

One grudging star, only because I can’t give it zero.


Losers Keepers


by Joe Reid

I recently saw a preview at the theater for the upcoming Planet of the Apes movie (based on the book) starring Charlton Heston. It's a flick about a world where cavemen-like humans in rags are dumb beasts and mistreated by the intelligent thinking and talking apes. 

Much like this week's episode, which featured wild men dressed in rags that appeared to be unable to speak and behaved like beasts.  A couple of months back we had the “Gamesters of Triskelion", which featured a Master Thrall Galt who shared the look of Ming the Merciless from “Flash Gordon”.  In fact it was that same episode that had me complaining about the amount of borrowing or sometimes outright theft that Star Trek employs in its stories.

If imitation is the best form of flattery, Star Trek is the Casanova of Burbank, California!  The number of its paramours have surely become legion.  Much like the erstwhile lover of legend, Star Trek is never able to focus on attaching to one thing at a time.  Episodes must borrow from multiple sources.  Even from other episodes of Star Trek.  For example, just last week we saw an episode where the powerful Kelvans turned members of the crew into white minerals.  This week a disease did it.  Two weeks ago the Nazis from Earth history showed up on another planet.  This week the US flag and constitution showed up, for no reason other than to attempt to throw a twist at the audience.  Both of these last two examples make me feel as if I am watching an episode of the Twilight Zone instead of Star Trek.  So many episodes of that show introduce elements into settings where they should not exist.  When it happened in the Twilight Zone it was thought provoking.  When it keeps happening in Star Trek, it lacks the same effect and is starting to leave me pining for repeats of the episodes that have more original stories.


"A man…can't just…turntosalt!"  "Captain, need I remind you what happened just last episode?"

I’d love for new episodes to stop with the borrowed elements and stick to bold new content, not plucked from the theaters, or the current newspaper headlines, or popular Earth characters like Jack the Ripper. 

Although the recent “Patterns of Force” was not an episode that I loved, I do love the fact that it was original and not an obvious rip-off from something else.  “The Omega Glory” could have been more glorious had its elements not been entirely borrowed.  That's only one of its sins, of course, but it'd be a start.

1 star


Beyond the Pale


by Amber Dubin

I want to preface myself by saying I am whole-heartedly enraptured with Star Trek. It is my first and only love, the only fictional universe I'd gladly abandon my own life to walk one day in its storyline, and I'd defend the continuation of this show to the death and beyond. I feel the need to profess my undying loyalty as a fan of this series, because I am about to unleash a diatribe that could only be wrought by the betrayal of an immeasurable love. This episode made me apoplectic. I've had my hackles raised from some insulting implications about the nature of women or certain races, but so far most of my reactions have been to subtleties. Subtle this episode was not.

The least subtle attack on my sensibilities was the racism. The Yangs are introduced as inhuman savages that cannot be reasoned with when they are first encountered. However, it turns out that they are not feral, merely driven wild by religious fervor. The supertext is that the Yangs' nature is that of Native Americans (what we have ignorantly called, for centuries, 'Indians'). I cannot begin to describe how offensive this concept is. Gene Roddenberry is saying here that Native Americans as a race are naturally a savage subspecies of whites, but they, like the fictional Vulcans, have trained to control their natures through a spirituality reverential governmental system. The fundamental insult lies in the implication that the government of whites partially tamed their savage nature (only partially, because the whole time sacred ceremonies take place, the majority of the tribe is outside yipping and howling at the moon). I hate that I have to explain this, but in reality, Native Americans have had democratic systems in place before most white societies that the white founding fathers actually drew from when they were drafting their governmental systems. In addition, the role of spirituality in most ancient Native American tribes was not a controlling cult-like obsession as could be argued is displayed by many modern organized religions, and was instead a much subtler, reverential guiding force that soothed the more offensive natural human instincts like a balm rather than a set of shackles.


"What do you mean 'they're too white?'  What do you think this is?  High Chapparal?"

Unfortunately the racial attacks in this episode are not only leveled at the Native American peoples. When it comes to the Comms, although it is implied that their genetics/immunological resistance is superior to humans, they are also implied to be inferior to the white race. This is apparent in the way that they immediately recognize Ron Tracey as their leader, after "getting over the shock of [his] white skin." This is offensive not only in the way it implies innate white supremacy, but also in the way they imply that it is natural for "asiatic races" to choose innately flawed governmental systems (godless totalitarianism and communism – for shame!) over the morally upright white, democratic Republicans. They even managed to throw in fetishization of female Asians just because this steaming pile of an episode needed a little sexism for spice.

And the science! My God, the poor, poor science! I'm too angry to even go into how terribly this episode mangled the concepts of genetic and cultural evolution. It didn't even have the most basic understanding of immunology and epidemiology! The fact that any of the plot of this episode made it off the cutting room floor goes beyond the pale of my tolerance and understanding. To say I am deeply disappointed in Gene Roddenberry is an understatement of the highest degree.

I wish I could give it less than one star, but I, like the actors in these scenes, am contractually bound by the system in which I work.

One star



Speaking of Star Trek, it's on tomorrow!  And it seems to presage a civil war…

Here's the invitation! Come join us.




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[March 6, 1968] Trend-setter (April 1968 Galaxy)


by Gideon Marcus

Back in the saddle again

It's been a long time since the halcyon days of the early '50s, when Galaxy was setting the standard to beat, ushering in the Silver Age of Science Fiction (along with the more avante garde F&SF).  But now that editor Fred Pohl has collapsed his empire to just two mags, it seems he can afford to be more picky.  Indeed, IF is unusually good this month, and the April 1968 issue of Galaxy is by far the best I've read in a long time, and a strong contender for best magazine of March.


by Gray Morrow

Brave new worlds

Goblin Reservation (Part 1 of 2), by Clifford D. Simak

Simak is back with a odd brew of a story, perhaps in the same universe as Here Gather the Stars, as reference is made to a Wisconsin transit station.  Eschewing (for the most part) his usual pastoral motif, instead we get the first installment of the book-length adventure of Peter Maxwell, professor at the Time University in North America.  At least he was.  It seems that, while on the way to do fieldwork on the planet of Coonskin, Maxwell was duplicated.  One of him went on to his intended task.  The other ended up on a crystalline, roofed-over planet.  This world is some 50 billion years old, its inhabitants little more than ghosts, and they possess the knowledge of two universes since they lived through the last cosmological crunch and survived the most recent "Big Bang".

This latter Maxwell is the one we follow, since the other one died in a traffic accident upon arriving home.  Now, Maxwell is officially dead, out of work, and at loose ends.  Add to that there seems to be conspiracies, both human and alien, to get the secrets of the crystal planet from him, and things get very hot indeed.

That would be a twisty enough tale in and of itself.  Throw in the existence of fairies and ghosts (they've been around all along, but now they're acknowledged creatures who live on reservations) as well as working time travel (one of the main characters is Alley Oop, a brilliant Neanderthal), and things are complicated to the extreme!


by Gray Morrow

And yet, somehow Simak makes it all work.  It's an unusually humorous story, though the Morrow illustrations are perhaps too comic, and I tore through the half novel in short order.

I am looking forward to seeing where this all goes.  Four stars.

The Riches of Embarrassment, by H. L. Gold

Why does Miss McGiveney always seem to happen upon her neighbors at the most embarrassing moments?  It may just be her superpower.

This slight tale in particular feels like vintage Galaxy, perhaps because it's written by the magazine's first editor.  I hope Fred Pohl edited the story savagely…what's good for the goose is good for the gander.

Three stars.

Brain Drain, by Joseph P. Martino


by Dan Adkins

Tom Harrison, a field agent of Intelligence Imports Incorporated, is in Thailand searching for a particular kind of student, and he thinks he has his target in high school graduate Manob Suravit.  It turns out that Triple-I is on the hunt for brilliant PhD candidates, and apparently there aren't enough in America (and/or perhaps there is value in recruiting from beyond our shores).

At first, I thought it would turn out Harrison was looking for folks with psi powers–I was glad to find the object of his search was more mundane.  Most of the story is excellent, redolent with such authentic color that I have to think Martino has spent time in Thailand.

The problem is the ending, where Harrison convinces the local schoolmaster to be happy about the loss of promising students.  Not so much the reasoning, but the near-polemic way the reasoning is delivered.  What could be a thoughtful piece, with shades of gray woven in (as the story appeared to promise earlier on) becomes something more suited for Analog.  Along the lines of "Hey, sure we take your smart kids, but you weren't using them, and you've still got plenty."

A missed opportunity.  Three stars.

Sword Game, by H. H. Hollis

A bored middle-aged topologist and a grubby would-be Gypsy team up with their tessaract-based circus show.  Said mathematician shoves his partner into a cylinder of fuzzy time and space and stabs her vividly, but harmlessly, with a sword while the audience marvels.

But said topologist bores of this, too, and the result is truly macabre (though ultimately happy).

Three stars, but I could see someone going to four.

For Your Information: The Devil's Apples, by Willy Ley

Willy Ley offers up a short, but interesting piece on potatoes.  Not much to say, really.  Three stars.

Touch of the Moon, by Ross Rocklynne


by Dan Adkins

What an odd piece this is, about a romance broken when one of the partners goes to the moon.  Gravity has an irrevocable effect not only on the body, but also the psyche.  But happily, loosing one's ties to Earth is ultimately good for the species if it ever wants to claim the stars.

This could have been a good story, but it's written far too amateurishly and with too implausible a premise.  The former is surprising given that Rocklynne dates back to the Golden Age.  On the other hand, I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since I began reading SF regularly (1954), so perhaps he's out of practice.

Two stars.

The Deceivers, by Larry Niven


by Jack Gaughan

Our old pal Lucas Garner is back, this time with a shaggy dog story about the first fully automated restaurant that opened in 2025.

Niven has a real knack for creating whole worlds with a few strokes.  He also joins multiple time periods with ease: Lucas Garner was born in 1939, so he is our contemporary.  He lives in the 2100s, and he reminisces about the 2000s.  Thus, his stories have touches of the futuristic as well as the familiar.

Four stars.

Galaxy Bookshelf, by Algis Budrys

I don't often comment on Algis Budrys' column, but this time, he has some important things to say…and a friend named Brian Collins (who has his own commendable 'zine) did an excellent job of summing it up while adding his own observations:

Algis Budrys dedicates the whole review column to Dangerous Visions, giving us a review I'd say is about 1,500 to 2,000 words long. Budrys has shown us before that he's one of the more "literate" people in the field, but he has a unique challenge with Dangerous Visions, a book he both highly recommends but is highly mixed on as far as its content goes.

He argues pretty well as to why this is a major work in the field and why you should get yourself a copy, despite a lot of the stories therein not holding up to scrutiny. It helps that he and I mostly agree on what works and what doesn't (I'm admittedly one of the few people who liked the Farmer), and it pleases me in a morbid way to find that I'm not the only one who was incredibly disappointed by the Sturgeon. But Budrys notes that while the bloated pseudo-lecture from Sturgeon is a failure, and far under Sturgeon's caliber, it works as a sort of counter-piece to the Emshwiller, which, as Budrys says, feels more like a classic Sturgeon story than the Sturgeon we got. Taken together, these two contribute immensely to a narrative that Harlan Ellison is trying to put forth with the book.

Will Dangerous Visions kick off a new movement in SF? No. We had already seen stuff published in F&SF and New Worlds that would have made fine contributions to Dangerous Visions. This book does not present a brave new world like Ellison claims, but rather as Budrys argues it serves as an essential reminder that change is inevitable and that the field has been changing and will continue to change. No doubt 50 years from now Dangerous Visions will be remembered for the best stories between its covers, but also as a historical artifact—a portrait of a genre in the midst of change, and change is often violent and unpretty.

The World and Thorinn, by Damon Knight


by Jack Gaughan

Finally, Damon Knight begins what looks like the first part of serial in all but name.  Thorinn is a human raised by trolls in a primitive, Scandinavianesque, not-quite-fantasy world.  When calamity befalls his family, they throw him down a well to appease the god Snorri.  Thus begins the first of Thorinn's subterranean adventures.

The first few pages are a bit slow, particularly when scenes are repeated from two different viewpoints (I really dislike that style), but the rest makes for an excellent puzzle story, written in a fine, almost Vancean style.

Four stars, and the anticipated book may rate higher.

The Other Show

Between the Simak and the Knight (both fantasy-tinged pieces), we have a couple of open promises.  We also have something of a new style: there's a lot more sex in this issue than I've seen recently in Galaxy.  Is Pohl taking a page from F&SF's book?  Or has the New Wave simply caught up to the Guinn publishing enterprise?

Either way, I like it.  More, please!



Don't miss the news — a new episode of KGJ's weekly round-up is being broadcast right now!



[February 26, 1968] Stormy Weather (March 1968 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

There's no sun up in the sky

Out in the vastness of space, a constellation of man-made moons keeps watch on the Earth below.  Unlike their brethren, the military sentinels that look out for rocket plumes and atomic blasts, these benign probes monitor the planet's weather with a vantage and a vigilance that would make a 19th Century meteorologist green with envy.

In addition to the wealth of daily data we get from TIROS, ESSA, and Nimbus, the West is now getting aid from an unlikely, but no less welcome, source: behind the Iron Curtain.

Two years ago, the Soviets rebuffed the idea of exchanging weather satellite imagery.  "No need," was what they said; "no sats," was probably the real story.  For in August of 1966, all of a sudden, the USSR activated the "Cold Line" link between Moscow and Washington for the exchange of meteorological data.  This action coincided with the recent launch of Cosmos 122, revealed to be a weather satellite.

This constituted a late start in the weather race–after all, TIROS had been broadcasting since 1960.  Nevertheless, better late than never.  Unfortunately, the Soviets first sent only basic weather charts with limited cloud analysis.  Not much good without the raw picture data.  When we finally got the pictures, starting September 11, 1966, the quality was lousy–the communications link is just too long and lossy.  Our ESSA photos probably didn't look any better to them.

By March 1967, however, the lines had been improved, and Kosmos 122 was returning photos with excellent clarity.

We also got infrared data.  The resolution was much worse, but the Soviets maintained they did first discover a pair of typhoons bearing down on Japan.

Since then, the USSR has orbited at least two more weather satellites, Kosmos 144 and Kosmos 184, both returning the same useful data, often from different orbital perspectives than we can easily reach.  For instance, the Soviet pictures offer particularly good views of the poles and northern Eurasia.

It's a little thing, perhaps, this trading of weather data between the superpowers.  But anything that promotes peaceful exchange and keeps the connections between East and West ready and friendly is something to appreciate.  Sometimes the Space Race is more of a torch relay!

Raining all the time


by Kelly Freas

In sharp contrast, Analog remains an island unto itself, and like all inbred families, often produces challenged offspring.  Such is the case with the March 1968 issue, which ranges from middlin' to awful.

The Alien Rulers, by Piers Anthony


by Kelly Freas

We start with the awful.

Fifteen years ago, the blue-skinned Kaozo engaged our space fleet, destroyed it utterly, and became the benevolent masters of Earth.  They created a working socialist society, implementing tremendous public works projects, and humanity proved remarkably complacent under their rule.  Nevertheless, a revolution of sorts has been hatched, and Richard Henrys is tasked with the stickiest assignment–assassinate the Kazo leader, Bitool.

Henrys is quickly captured, but instead of facing execution, Bitool offers him a deal: protect Seren, the first female Kazo on Earth, during the next three days of the revolution, and he can go free.

Sounds like a decent setup.  It's actually a terrible story.  For one thing, the author of Chthon has all of his off-putting tics on display.  Seren is a straw woman, whose vocabulary is largely limited to "Yes, Richard," and "No, Richard."  The social attitudes of this far future world seem rooted in the Victorian times, with passages like this:

"You'll pose as my wife.  Hang on to my arm and–"

"Pose?" she inquired.  "I do not comprehend this, Richard."

Damn the forthright Kazo manner!  He had five minutes to explain human ethics, or lack of them, to a person who had been born to another manner.  Pretense was not a concept in the alien repertoire, it seemed.

He chose another approach.  "For the time being, you are my wife, then.  Call it a marriage of convenience."  She began to speak, but he cut her off.  "My companion, my female.  On Earth we pair off two by two.  This means you must defer to my wishes, expressed and implied, and avoid bringing shame upon me.  Only in this manner are you permitted to accompany me in public places.  Is this clear?"

And this one:

"I promised to explain why this subterfuge was necessary.  I didn't mean to place you in a compromising situation, but–"

"Compromising, Richard?"

"Ordinarily a man and a woman do not share a room unless they are married."

And then, there's the scene where the feminine disguise Richard puts together for Seren falls apart because her body lacks mammalian contours.  Why doesn't he then dress her in male clothes?  And when her stockings start to fall off her legs, I couldn't help wondering how they'd somehow uninvented Panty Hose in the 21st Century.

But then, I'm not sure if Piers Anthony has actually ever talked to a woman, much less seen her in her underthings.

On top of that, the final revelation that the Earth fleet was never destroyed, but instead went on to conquer Kazo, and the two planets have swapped overlords (both governments populated only by the very best technocrats) is so ridiculous as to beggar belief.  That Henrys is invited to become one of the ruling class largely for his novel ideas on how to cut a cake fairly, well, takes the cake.

One star.

Uplift the Savage, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Members of an interstellar agency learn that the best way to increase the technological sophistication of a primitive race is not to give them expertise, but allow them to steal it.  The two-page point is hammered in using fourteen pages of digs at women, higher education, and educated women.

One star.

The Inevitable Weapon, by Poul Anderson


by Harry Bennett

A scientist discovers teleportation.  Useless for interstellar travel, at least for a while, it's great for beaming in concentrated starlight–as a weapon at first, but potentially, to provide energy.

This would be a decent, one-page Theodore L. Thomas piece in F&SF.  Instead, it's fourteen pages of bog-standard detective/secret agent thriller.

Two stars.

Birth of a Salesman, by James Tiptree, Jr.


by Kelly Freas

Jim Tiptee's freshman story is an Anvilesque tale of breakneck pace and nonstop patter.  T. Benedict of the Xeno-Cultural Gestalt Clearance (XCGC) has got a tough job: making sure the trade goods of the galaxy not only take into account the taboos or allergies of alien customers, but also the transhipment longshorebeings. 

Tedium sets in by page two, which, coincidentally, is how many stars I rate it.

The Horse Barbarians (Part 2 of 3), by Harry Harrison


by Kelly Freas

A lot and very little happen in this installment of Jason dinAlt's latest adventure.  Last time on Deathworld III, Jason offered up his fellow Pyrrans as mercenaries to wipe out the horse barbarians on the planet Felicity.  It's fair play, after all, since these barbarians (absolutely not the Mongols, because they have red hair!) slaughtered the last attempt at a mining camp on their frozen plateau.

So, Jason accompanies "Temuchin", the warlord, on an expedition down a cliffside to the technologically advanced civilization on the plains below.  There, they steal some gunpowder, kill a lot of innocent people, and come back–in time to link up with the rest of the Pyrrans for a raid on the Weasel clan.  More slaughter ensues.

Jason feels kind of bad about his part in the killing, but it's all a part of a master plan to someday, eventually, pacify the warriors with by opening up a trade route with the south (as opposed to setting up off-world trade, since the barbarians hate off-worlders).  So whaddaya gonna do?

Well, personally?  Pick a different career path.  Even if the nomads are the biggest savages since the Whimsies, Growleywogs, and Phantasms, what right do the Pyrrans have to kill…anyone? 

Setting aside the moral concerns, Harrison is still an effective writer.  I wasn't bored, just a bit disgusted.

Three stars.

Practice!, by Verge Foray


by Kelly Freas

A shabby little private school for problem children is suddenly the subject of a set of accreditation inspectors.  There's nothing wrong with the kids or the staff–the problem is that the snoops might discover it's really a training ground for junior ESPers!  Luckily, the tykes are on the side of management, and the inspectors are snowed.

I went back and forth on whether this very Analogian tale deserved two or three stars.  On the one hand, I'm getting a little tired of psi stories (the headmaster in the story even says there's no such thing as something for nothing–and that's what psi is), and I resented the smug digs at public school.

But what swayed me toward the positive end of the ledger (aside from the unique and lovely art) was the bit at the end whereby it's suggested that the reason for the school, and the reason psi is so unreliable, is because, like music or language, it's something that needs to be practiced from an early age.  It's a new angle, and pretty neat.

So, three stars.

Can't go on…

Wow.  2.1 stars is bottom-of-Amazing territory, and it easily makes this month's Analog the worst magazine of the month.  Compare it to Fantastic (2.2), IF (3), New Worlds (3.3), and the excellent Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.6), and the contrast is even stronger.

Because of the paucity of magazines, you could fit all the really good stuff into, say, one issue of Galaxy.  On the other hand, women wrote 12% of new fiction this month, which is decent for the times (not to mention the episodes of Star Trek D. C. Fontana has been penning).

It's 1968, an election year.  Maybe this is the year Campbell hands the reins over to someone else.  It certainly couldn't hurt the tarnished old mag.

And then, maybe the sun will come out again!



Speaking of election news, there's plenty of it and more on today's KGJ Weekly report.  You give us four minutes, and we'll give you the world:



[February 22, 1968] Reich or Wrong? (Star Trek: "Patterns of Force")

Cowboys and Indians and Nazis


by Lorelei Marcus

Thrice recently we have been cautioned of the importance of the Prime Directive, and the consequences if it is not followed properly. While it seemed almost nonexistent as a concept up until halfway through season two, the prime directive now stands as one of the most popular story devices in our recent crop of episodes. "Patterns of Force" is no exception; it can almost entirely be summarized as a less elegant, Nazi flavored clone of "A Piece of the Action", another episode that featured the prime directive prominently.

The Enterprise arrives at planet Ekos in search of John Gill, a cultural scientist sent to observe the planet's primitive culture and development. His recent disappearance sparks the Federation to investigate, and what they find is a planet far beyond what its technological level should be, a society modeled exactly on Nazi Germany, and John Gill as "Führer".


Not since Martin Landau as Martin Bormann have we seen such an effective portrayal of a Nazi.

Like the gangster world in "A Piece of the Action", the Ekosian society's emulation of Earth history is no coincidence, but the result of direct tampering from outside forces. However the tampering of Ekos' evolution began not with the Federation, but their more advanced sister planet, Zeon, which led to Ekos accessing nuclear warheads and a space fleet. Still, even after fifty years relations between the two planets remained peaceful, and only in the past six years did Ekos begin to model a fascist regime. The only explanation is further manipulation from Gill himself.


Filmed at the Reich Building in Beautiful Downtown Burbank!

Kirk and Spock beam down to the planet to try to find Gill and get an explanation. Despite their clever civilian disguises, they are quickly identified as aliens by SS guards. Much judo chop, neck pinch, and uniform stealing high jinks later, they try to infiltrate Nazi headquarters, and are once again discovered thanks to Spock's ears. One obligatory whipping scene later, with some good special-effects for Spock's green blood, and our leads find themselves in prison alongside a Zeon rebel. We learn that the Ekosians plan to wipe out all Zeons both on their own planet and the Zeon home world, their "final solution" as Isak the rebel puts it.


Sweeps week

Horrified, Kirk and Spock fashion a quick escape by using the transponders embedded in their arms for a purpose they were absolutely not intended (turning them into primitive phasers? I'm sure we'll never see this highly useful technology again). With Isak's help, Kirk and Spock join forces with the underground resistance. They plan to infiltrate an elite banquet that night where the Führer is to make an appearance.


Berets and ascots–that's how you know they're resistance

A string of good luck and hidden allies sees them into the banquet, and subsequently the sound booth where Gill gives a speech to the nation initiating the final solution operation. After the speech, they discover that Gill has been drugged, likely by his second in command, who has been the real force pushing for Zeon extermination. Spock performs a Vulcan mind meld to discover why Gill chose to instate a Nazi regime in the first place.

Gill explains that he was only trying to unite a fractured world under an efficient state. He never foresaw such consequences to his actions. Luckily, he is able to give a speech to the people before he dies, and the Holocaust is ultimately called off.


"You won't have John Gill to kick around anymore…"

This story, like "A Piece of the Action", relies on imitative aliens who build their societies around the books and words of outsiders. The sociopolitical situation of two already communicating planets seems too complicated a situation for Gill to have been able to come into and impose an entirely new social structure. I will admit I am a little tired of how Star Trek treats its aliens as if they are children who simply play the Cowboys and Indians they see on TV, rather than think and build for themselves, no matter how primitive the society. For "A Piece of the Action" it worked, particularly because there was a 100 year lead time and a naturally curious and imitative civilization that was infected. This episode was less effective, especially with two pre-existing aliens complicating the mix.

That said, along with its many flaws, there was much to like about the episode. I'll let my co-writers cover the details, but I will say that while the episode was fun to watch, it left me feeling a bit hollow and unconvinced, as if its true purpose for existing was to just put Kirk and Spock in (and occasionally out of) SS uniforms.

Three stars.


Out of Time


by Joe Reid

Having traveled a bit in my time I have come across people who I felt held beliefs and a way of life that held them back from being all that they might be.  Without naming places I can clearly remember times when I thought, “if I could only do something to change how these folks live, they might all be able to make something of themselves.” Faced with places where people lived in poverty, violence was not far.  Never once did I think that struggling people would be better off if we could just make them all Nazis.  This week’s episode failed to adequately answer how a learned historian like John Gill could have come to that conclusion.  I feel like the episode lacked the time needed to explain how that could have come to pass.

It would have been one thing to have taken elements of mid twentieth century German Nazi culture and apply parts of it to make a society better.  After all, I have always been told that under Hitler the trains ran on time (a fallacy to be precise).  It was a total other thing to copy the Nazis whole hog: symbols, behaviors, and uniforms.  The members of the crew that saw what Fuhrer Gill had created all knew how bad the Nazis of history were and were perplexed that it would be repeated.  The brief half-comatose explanation from Gill that Nazis were efficient fell a little shy of the mark.  If we had been given time with a lucid Gill who could have explained why he felt no better options existed, it would have added more credibility to the events as they played out.


"Didn't you see Judgment at Nuremberg?  How about The Brothers Karamozov?"

My next quarrel with the episode is in regard to how quickly it ended.  Within a minute of Gill receiving a fatal shot from his captor, three things happened: The Zeon representatives decided that all of their problems were over and they could take care of things going forward. Kirk considered the planet for admission to Star Fleet, and the ship left the planet.  This leads us to the conclusion that Gill wasn’t wrong at all.  The people were doing great and always would have done great as Nazis as long as no bad people took charge.  That torture, oppression and fear are great tools if you do it without being evil.

Lastly, the motivations of the villain of the episode (Deputy Fuhrer Melakon) went completely unexplained.  He drugged Gill, assumed command, and fought a campaign of oppression against a people for no other reason than, he’s just a bad guy.  If we had only learned that he had a bad history with the Zeons, or that he was one himself and hated it–anything as a motivation–it would have been a good use of time to further the plot.

As it stood, “Patterns of Force” fell too far from believability to be considered a good use of my time.  The leaps that I was asked to make were too far.  Given more time and explanation, perhaps we could have come to a better story.

Two stars.


Springtime for Hitler?


by Janice L. Newman

My feelings on “Patterns of Force” are mixed. There was much to like about the episode. There were two ‘volte-face’ moments that were excellently done. The first caught me by surprise, yet was completely plausible: of course the rebels would want to make certain that the people they were allowing into the heart of their base weren’t secretly Nazi spies. The second moment was cleverly set up, so that it was less of a surprise yet very satisfying. It wasn’t even implausible that there would be Ekosians and Ekosian supporters at high levels of government. After all, Gill would have surrounded himself with good, like-minded people during his rise to power, people like Eneg and Daras’ father. [And don't forget the recent example of Eli Cohen, the Israeli spy who made it to the #3 position in Syria before being caught and executed. (ed.)]

Yet there were elements of the episode that bothered me. For one, other than the aforementioned curveballs, the plot was subtle as a brick, to the point where it threw me out of the episode. Gee, do you think the ‘Ekosians’ might be an especially imitative people (‘echoing’ the culture of others)? Gosh, with names that sound like “Issac” and “Abraham”, how could the people of “Zion” — sorry, I meant “Zeon” — be anything but Jewish?


Funny–they don't look Jewish…

More frustrating than the heavy-handed writing was an important assertion that the story left unchallenged. Even today, there are people who glorify the Nazis and buy into their propaganda. Gill states that Hitler’s regime was the “most efficient state Earth ever knew,” and Spock, the voice of reason, supports and reinforces him! “That tiny country, beaten, bankrupt, defeated, rose in a few years to stand only one step away from global domination.” However, this argument is fundamentally flawed. Just as “Space Seed” fails to challenge the idea that eugenics could work at all, “Patterns of Force” leaves out the fact that Hitler’s success was built on theft, lies, and broken promises long before Germany went to war.

But in the end, my issue with this episode is more emotional than logical. A Piece of the Action does a wonderful job of showing how a culture could be ‘infected’ by another culture. But the Mafioso characters are deliberately cartoonish in their portrayals, fun and larger-than-life and slightly ‘off’. It doesn’t work as well with Nazis. Watching stormtroopers beat and kick and scream at innocent people in the street, seeing them whipping characters I care about, seeing characters I like dressed like Nazis–these things made me uncomfortable. Yes, watching Nazis repeatedly getting knocked out, neck-pinched, shot, and led around by the nose was fun. And yes, I appreciate the message that “Nazis are bad”, even if it was a bit simplistic and unsubtle. But for me, I’d just as soon not see Nazis infect my futuristic science fiction, especially accompanied by mostly unchallenged assertions that they were ever “efficient” or successful.

In quality this was a four-star episode, but my discomfort takes my personal rating down to three stars.


Lord Acton was right


by Gideon Marcus

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely."  It was explicitly referenced in this episode, and it explains a lot.  After watching "Patterns of Force", one of the biggest objections of my fellow watchers to the episode's premise was that resurrecting the Nazis was a bridge too far–too obvious, too ridiculous for a serious historian to consider.


"Hogaaaan!"

But is it really so unbelievable that John Gill, elevated to Godhood to the Ekosians by his knowledge of history and technology long before he became "The Fuhrer", would choose that model?  You and I know (especially if we've read Shirer's Rise and Decline of the Third Reich) that the Hitler regime was anything but "the most efficient the world had ever seen", but would Gill?

We're less than a quarter century from the passing of the most evil government on Earth, yet just last year, the American Nazi party leader was assassinated by one of his henchmen for not being fascist enough. Kids who push counters around on maps in games like Blitzkrieg and Afrika Korps call their clubs "4th SS Panzer", "The Gauleiter Club", "Panzer Lehr Division", and like that.  I have no doubt that, two hundred years from now, there will be historians who miss the point, seduced by dazzling military conquests, Leni Riefenstahl films, and Hugo Boss uniforms.

So, I actually find "Patterns of Force" all too plausible.

I also found it (he said a little sheepishly) quite enjoyable.  With the exception of one clumsy scene edit (the one that ends with Yitzhak saying, "This is more our fight than yours") it's a well put together episode.  Shatner reins in his Shatnerisms, delivering a compelling performance.  Nimoy has the charm one expects of a real ubermensch among people playing at being ubermenschen.  Kelley has a truncated role, but he is at his very best.


"What in blazes is going on here?"

The scoring is an effective mix of library and new music.  The guest stars are quite excellent, actually (though the dubbed "actors" in the first scene on Ekos are some of the worst).

And the showrunners clearly know that women make a big part of their audience.  Why else would the two leads be half-naked for half the episode?


"Very interesting!"

Four stars.



"There's a new episode of Star Trek tomorrow!" "I'll drink to that."

Come join us–here's the invitation!



[February 20, 1968] 1-2-3 What are we fighting for? (March 1968 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Sock it to me

In the middle of this month's issue of F&SF is this ad:

In short, 68 members of the science fiction community (most of them authors, but some I only know of from fandom) have paid lucre to support staying the course in Vietnam.  Some of the names on the list surprised me: Biggle, Buck, De Vet, Galouye… I should have thought they'd be less belligerent.  And, of course, Bradley's name just makes me sick.

But, as David pointed out, the language is "weasel-worded. It's perfectly possible to be opposed to the war, but feel that the US has an obligation to South Vietnam."

I'll also note that, for this ad to have come out in this issue, it must have been prepped last year.  This is before the recent offensive, when it could be said with a straight face (albeit with decreasing credibility) that we were slowly but surely "winning" in Vietnam.

I was rather surprised to find this ad in F&SF, to be sure.  It's the most liberal of the SF mags–this felt like it would be more at home in Analog.  But then, flipping to the back of the issue, I found this:

That's right–half again as many authors and fans are against staying in Vietnam (they use the older spelling, "Viet Nam").  One wonders which ad came first, and did the two campaigns know about each other?

Does this kind of political posturing belong in our science fiction magazines?  I was already seeing buzz about this in the fanzines even before the ad was printed (I somehow ended up out of the loop, but San Diego is a bit of a fandom backwater).  One fan opined that fans had no business politicizing our sacred pages.

I just think it's a mark of how polarizing and important this debate is that it now has spilled over into our sanctum sanctorum, the monthly escapist literature.  I can only imagine the war of ads will become more bitter now that the actual fight has escalated.

Doo-whackadoo


by Gahan Wilson

Aside from the shots traded in the dueling ads, the rest of the issue is actually surprisingly pleasant, if not entirely placid.  A number of these stories could have been played for horror, but instead, deliberately eschew it.  Intentional?  Or just a happy coincidence?  (I prefer my stories with happy endings.)

The Egg of the Glak, by Harvey Jacobs

Harold North is an unprepossessing campus cop, whose life is irrevocably changed when he meets and befriends the eccentric Professor Hickhoff.  In addition to being obssessed with the monopthongization of the English language (as well as with Harold North), the rotund professor also has a secret of the zoological kind.  Upon his untimely passing, his dying request is that North procure the egg of the last Glak, a Labradorian avian, from a local pet store owner.  After hatching it, North must release it in its home wilds.

Thus ensues a lusty, mildly hazardous, and rather droll journey in which North procures the egg and keeps it from the clutches of Nagle, an anthropologist who would make his reputation on the discovery.  Along the way, North finds romance, of a sort, but mostly haplesses his way through the endeavor.

What makes this tale is the telling.  It threads the line between light and serious, literary and earthy, bawdy and chaste.  It's something Goulart or Lafferty might have come up with on one of their better days.

Interestingly, Harvey Jacobs has only appeared on Galactic Journey twice before, and both were unfavorable outings.  This one, on the other hand, I thoroughly enjoyed.

Five stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The Ajeri Diary, by Miriam Allen deFord

DeFord, on the other hand, is a name that needs no introduction; she's as grizzled (in her ladylike fashion) as they come.  This tale is of an anthropologist who visites the rigidly segregated planet of Ajeri.  divided along sexual lines into "eskons" and "orgs", the researcher gradually learns that those terms do not precisely align with male and female.

Knowing deFord's penchant for horrific stings in the tail, I was on tenter hooks for much of the piece, especially when the anthropologists finds himself having more and more in common with the neuter "eskons".  But in the end, what we really have is a thoroughly logical state of societal affairs–indeed, something of an utopia…

For some values of utopia, in any event!

Four stars, and the Anti-Queen Bee Award for the month.

Whose Short Happy Life?, by Sterling Lanier

Two hundred years after the Atomic Apocalypse, a hunting party invades the Reserve in search of the most deadly game–the preserved tribes of The Enemy.  About halfway through, you'll figure out that something is amiss, but it's worth the ride to the end to figure out what it is.

Four stars.

Dinosaurs in Today's World, by L. Sprague de Camp

Unusually, we have two science fact articles this issue.  This is the weaker of the two, a piece on whether dinosaurs could yet live somewhere on the globe.  It's sort of a poor man's version of a Ley piece I'm sure I read several years ago.

Three stars.

Budget Planet, by Robert Sheckley

Here is an excerpt from an upcoming book, Dimension of Miracles, that (sort of) stands on its own.  It's the account of a planet builder who cuts corners every chance he gets, and his personal reminiscence of his contract with a certain Jehovah.

It's a lot of fluff, but kind of fun.  Three stars.

The Shapes, by J. H. Rosny aîné

This piece is a contender for the "oldest reprint" award.  A Damon Knight translation from the French (he's quite good at those), it is the story of an extraterrestrial invasion in a pre-Sumerian (but more advanced) Mesopotamia.

Not bad, though the "scientific account" portion in the middle both drags and feels strongly out of flavor with the beginning and end.

Three stars.

The Seventh Planet, by Isaac Asimov

This is a good, but somehow hollow account of the discovery and nature of the planet Mercury, one of the harder planets to observe as it never is very far from the Sun (I had little difficulty finding it when I lived in the desert — the horizons are very low there).

Four stars, I suppose.

That High-Up Blue Day That Saw the Black Sky-Train Come Spinning, by David R. Bunch

Finally, the most forgettable story is this piece of frivolity about two drunks who concoct an alien menace as a prank–but was one of them actually serious?

Two stars.

Who cares? I don't give damn!

However one may feel about the expanding war in Southeast Asia, I think we must remain united on this one matter: the March 1968 issue of F&SF is pretty darned good.  And if we be not united, well, I'd like to hear where you agree or disagree.

You won't even have to pay me to take out an ad…



[February 18, 1968] Yet(i) Again, London Is Under Attack (Doctor Who: The Web Of Fear [Part One])


By Jessica Holmes

After a cracking serial last month with a really fresh story format, we’re getting another ‘base under siege’ plot in Doctor Who. Will The Web Of Fear turn out to be the same old yarn, or have Mervyn Haisman and Henry Lincoln found a way to put a new spin on the format?

EPISODE ONE

You might recall that the last episode of Doctor Who ended with the TARDIS leaning on its side and the occupants clinging on for dear life. It provides a nice little high-action start to the episode, as Jamie manages to climb to the TARDIS door controls and save the group. Out of one perilous situation, the Doctor immediately wants to go and look for another adventure.

Sometimes I think he must enjoy being in imminent danger of a horrible death.

Well, he doesn’t have to go far. The TARDIS stops, but it hasn’t landed. It’s caught in something. Something like a web.

It turns out we are back on Earth in (roughly?) the modern day. Remember Professor Travers (Jack Watling) from The Abominable Snowmen? He’s back, but rather a lot older, and in quite a bit of trouble. He managed to recover a Yeti along with their control equipment and brought it back to London. Rather than keep it safe, he went and sold it to a wealthy collector, yet carried on tinkering with the control sphere. As you can imagine, this has backfired big-time, and he can’t persuade the collector to give it up. The ridiculously-stereotypical Silverstein (whose personality can be summed up with the words ‘greedy’, ‘rich’ and ‘stubborn’) soon ends up on the wrong side of his prized Yeti, and by the next scene, London is in a sorry state indeed.

The Yeti are taking over, spreading a mysterious weblike fungus through the Underground. Trying to hold back the onslaught are our main cast of side characters. We’ve got resident ‘Yeti Experts’, Professor Travers and his daughter Anne (Tina Packer), a handful of soldiers trying to hold out against the Yeti threat, and an absolutely infuriatingly irritating journalist reporting on the situation, Harold Chorley (Jon Rollason).

The TARDIS breaks free of the webbing and lands in the Underground, the group soon finding that the street level entrances are closed off.

Trapped on the London Underground. That sounds like my personal Hell.


The cinematography in this serial is rather good I must say. Some interesting angles and dramatic lighting. Makes things a lot more visually interesting.

Victoria and Jamie soon get caught by a couple of patrolling soldiers, but the Doctor evades capture by being conveniently off-camera.

The kids soon get to meet everyone hunkered down at the base, and Anne quickly establishes herself as my favourite new character. I just have a real soft spot for smart women who know how to handle condescending men.

Oblivious to the full details of the situation, Victoria and Jamie think that they’re protecting the Doctor when they insist that they were alone in the tunnel. However, what they don’t know is that the soldiers have a plan for halting the advance of the Yeti. They’re going to collapse the tunnel, and the kids have just given them the all clear.

The Doctor could not have picked a worse time to start poking around the explosives stockpile.

EPISODE TWO

The charges go off with more of a whimper than a bang, to the soldiers’ surprise. What they don’t know is that the Yeti have covered the explosives in webbing, containing the explosion. Thinking that the Doctor may have tampered with the charges, finding the Doctor becomes a high priority. But he’s nowhere to be found. At all. In this entire episode. I think he must have gone on his holidays.

Travers gets to introduce his daughter to Jamie and Victoria, and Anne finds their time travel story a bit hard to believe. She later confesses to her father that she’s a bit suspicious of the Doctor, finding his arrival a tad convenient. She’s not the only one. Chorley is starting to take an interest in the Doctor as well.


Don't you just hate it when you can't get a guy to take a hint and leave you alone?

While searching the tunnels for the Doctor, Jamie makes the acquaintance of a singing driver, Evans (Derek Politt), who is very Welsh. I know they call it the land of song but there’s a time and a place. He’s the sole survivor of a Yeti attack, and tells Jamie he saw one of the Yeti carrying a pyramid. Evans joins Jamie on his journey through the tunnels, but before they run into the Doctor, a Yeti runs into them.

The pair find themselves hemmed in by a Yeti and a wall of advancing… soap bubbles? Of all the ways to make a special effect for spreading web or fungus, soap bubbles would not be the method I’d go for. It doesn’t really look anything like the fungus covering the rest of the tunnels. Still, it would be funny if the Yetis’ web-shooting gun was actually just a water pistol filled with washing-up liquid.


Now, webs that help Yetis can feel soft as your face with miiild greeeen…Faaairy Liiiquiiiid!

EPISODE THREE

Shooting the pyramid does nothing to stop the advance of the soap suds or the Yeti (there must be at least one more out there, methinks), so the pair flee into a side tunnel.

Victoria strikes out on her own to find the Doctor, and soon enough finds him in the company of a new arrival to the Underground: Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart (Nicholas Courtney). What a posh name that is.

Lethbridge-Stewart is here to take over leadership of the little group of soldiers. He has the right paperwork and everything. Still, with the circle line fully consumed by the fungus, the soldiers are a little suspicious of where he came from.

As for Jamie and his Welsh friend, they split up once Evans sees an opportunity to escape. He returns not long later, partly because he felt a bit guilty about abandoning everyone else, but mostly because the street access turned out to be locked.

Once everyone (sans Jamie) is gathered together, Lethbridge-Stewart gives a briefing full of information I’m pretty sure the soldiers should already know given that they’ve been watching this whole situation unfold. Still, he seems an authoritative chap who knows what he’s doing. I already like him better than Chorley, who keeps butting into everything, won’t shut up about finding an escape route, and is getting on my last nerve.

Realising that the Yeti keep cocooning any explosives the soldiers place before they get a chance to set them off, the Doctor suggests putting the explosives on a moving trolley. The Colonel approves of the idea, and it begins to look like the situation might turn to their side.

Then Victoria and Anne realise that one of the Yeti control figurines is missing.

And someone is using it right now, to send a Yeti into the explosives store and web the place up. How very convenient that they should choose to do that at this precise moment… unless it’s not a coincidence. Finding the missing figurine in the weapons store, the Doctor realises that someone in the group must have put it there, and that person is in league with the Great Intelligence.

This base-under-siege is turning into a bit of a whodunnit! That’s refreshing.

Chorley seems oddly horrified when Victoria tells him of the Doctor’s intentions to blow the tunnel, and he’s a little too interested in the Doctor’s TARDIS. He leaves in a hurry once the Doctor shows up, and the Doctor is instantly suspicious—especially when he realises the journalist has locked the door behind him.

I don’t know, I think that Chorley seems a bit too obvious a suspect. I think he's just a coward who wants to use the TARDIS to escape.

They aren’t trapped for long, as Jamie finally emerges from the labyrinth of tunnels to let them out. Good timing!

A scream from another room brings Anne and Travers running to discover one of the soldiers, Weams, dead and all webbed up. A Yeti figurine lies beside him on the floor… and the real thing is looming over them, ready to strike!


What a wonderful facial expression. He looks like one of those Greek tragedy masks.

Final Thoughts

So, we’re halfway through The Web Of Fear and so far it’s fine, I suppose. It's a pretty good serial but nothing that has me forgetting to take notes because I’m so engrossed in the story. It is cool to see Travers again! I appreciate the continuity here. I was a bit surprised to see the Great Intelligence returning so soon, but it’s an interesting villain, so who am I to complain?

I have to applaud the crew for the set design in this serial, with particular regards to the Tube station set. You can practically smell the old dust and stale sweat. I kept half expecting a train to come through at any moment. The resemblance to the actual Underground is uncanny—so much so that I’m not the only one who thought they’d filmed on location. I did do some digging to double check, but it is definitely just a set. Well done, crew.

It’s too early to tell if this serial will do anything very interesting with the base-under-siege format, but the mystery elements of the plot are quite promising.

We’ve also got a decent roster of supporting characters, with Anne being a bit of a favourite for me.

The Colonel’s not yet had enough screen-time for me to draw any conclusions about him, but I hate Chorley so much I just want him to go get lost in a long dark tunnel. Of which there are many, many, MANY in the Underground.

Still, at least his existence isn't an insult to an entire group of people.

Certainly, Evans could not be more Welsh if they called him 'Cymru Llandudno of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychrwyrndroblllantysiliogogogoch', and it's not an entirely flattering depiction. The singing habit is quite endearing but he’s not exactly bright and definitely not brave. Basically the same old insults the English have been tarring the Welsh with for centuries.

But Silverstein… wow. The depiction of Evans is unflattering but the short scene featuring Silverstein is just absurdly bad. The writers cannot have been oblivious to what they were doing there. They could have just made him a stubborn rich bloke, but they just had to go all in on the antisemitic caricature. It’s very disappointing to see.

I know it’s possible to worry too much about what other people might think about your writing, but maybe some writers could stand to worry about it a little more.




[February 12, 1968] The Power of Cinema (The Power, a movie)

KGJ News has a new episode for the week!

All you need to know in just four minutes:



by Fiona Moore

Having had the opportunity to attend a premiere of George Pal’s latest movie, “The Power”, as the guest of a friend who works at Borehamwood, I’d recommend it for any fans of the current crop of mind-bending, psychedelic, nightmare movies.

An image I'm not going to remove from my brain easily

The story (which takes place, according to the chronon at the start, “tomorrow”) revolves around a facility whose purpose is to test the limits of human endurance, with the specific aim of identifying people with the qualities required to live in space. One of its directors, an anthropologist, has been conducting tests on his fellow board members as a pilot project for a survey of the wider population, and discovered that someone in his sample possesses more-than-human talents, including the ability to bend others to their will, to create illusions in the mind, and even, apparently, to use these powers to kill.

After the anthropologist meets a strange death in a gravity-simulating centrifuge, leaving behind a cryptic note appearing to blame someone named “Adam Hart”, our hero, Tanner (George Hamilton), investigates, while his mysterious antagonist seems to be constantly one step ahead of him, killing off board members one after the other and framing Tanner for the murders, though never quite managing to do in Tanner himself. The final confrontation of the film reveals the true reason for his miraculous survival.

Can *you* spot the bad guy?

The film’s weak points are largely in the scripting area. The plot is thin, though, to be fair, the action is so non-stop you don’t really notice. I was able to guess who the culprit was fairly early on, just through process of elimination and through considering the sorts of roles various actors are usually cast in, and there’s a party scene two-thirds of the way through which is simply interminable. Although the concept of an institute aimed at testing human endurance is interesting, the link to the space programme is fairly sketchy and seems mostly included as a way of justifying the centrifuge scenes. The idea of an ubermensch who is “the next stage of human evolution” is also well-worn: the film is based on a 1954 book of the same title by Frank M. Robinson, which may explain the use of a conceit which will, these days, strike the well-read sci-fi fan as more than a little bit dated.

The characterisation is also fairly light and boiler-plate. There’s the handsome young man, the pretty girl, the bow-tied scruffy scientist and his unhappy alcoholic wife, the seen-it-all cop, and so on. The casting is about what you’d expect, including as it does George Hamilton, Michael Rennie, Suzanne Plechette and, erm, “Miss Beverley Hills”. While all the performances are solid, none particularly transcends what you’d expect for a thriller movie.

On the other hand, handsome people do get their kit off a lot.

The thing that saves “The Power” from being just another schlocky thriller is the imagery. George Pal treats us to genuinely nightmarish sequences of mental manipulation, such as a scene where a character is trapped in his own office, the doors and windows apparently disappearing every time he turns around. Another powerful sequence has Tanner unable to get off of a fun-fair merry-go-round, with the images flicking back to the centrifuge which was the site of the original murder. There’s one scene which will ensure you never trust one of those ubiquitous dipping-bird toys ever again.

George Hamilton about to have an encounter with a dipping bird.

Pal also cleverly plays with the mental-manipulation conceit. For instance, at one point Tanner is lured through a desert by the image of an oasis, which the viewer interprets as another obvious illusion—until we discover that it is all too real, and is a target area on a USAF gunnery range. At another, Tanner sees the familiar words of a “DON’T WALK” sign turn into the sinister command “DON’T RUN”, and, several scenes later, is startled to see the words “DON’T RUN” on a newspaper headline… only to realise that the headline refers to a political incumbent warning off a potential rival from taking him on in an electoral race, and the use of the phrase is simply a coincidence. The landscapes around our hero also take on nightmarish qualities, with even the ordinary setting of a suburban garden becoming like a lush, mysterious jungle, and the scenes taking place in the desert seeming genuinely alien. The film’s ability to take ordinary, even pleasant, settings like fun-fairs, toyshops, conferences and parties and turn them into sinister, terrifying sequences recalls The Prisoner in places.

There are other good things that stand out in the movie. German, Japanese and Eastern European characters appear without their ethnicity being a plot or character point (although the German does briefly sermonize about how living under the Nazis has given him insight into the dangers of charismatic supermen). There are several female characters with names, even if they do only talk to each other fairly briefly, and Suzanne Plechette’s love interest character is disappointingly flat and dull, her most memorable scene being a censor-baiting coitus-interruptus with Hamilton. It’s also worth re-watching the early scenes once you know who the villain really is. As noted, the film also maintains at best an ambivalent attitude towards the idea of supermen, and the question of whether or not they can be good people: Tanner at one point muses that absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Mrs Van Zant is Japanese, and why shouldn't she be?

“The Power” is, in sum, surprisingly good…for an SF horror blockbuster, with a few nice twists and an entertaining approach to the concept of the mind-manipulating superhuman being. It certainly sets a new high standard in visual effects and unreliable storytelling to challenge future filmmakers in this area. It's still plot-thin and character-lite, however.

Three out of five stars.