The Time Tunnel only ran for one season (1966/67), but it was a rare TV show during the 1960s that didn't get a comic book adaptation no matter how brief its run.
The Time Tunnel comic, in fact, managed a two-issue run. Both had amazingly cool covers painted by George Wilson and both had nice interior art by Tom Gill. And the stories (written by Paul S. Newman) teach us an important lesson about time travel--if you travel to the past, prepare to have the most aggravating time of your life.
There were three stories in the first issue and two in the second. Three of these tales involve Doug and Tony (the two time-lost scientists) desperately trying to warn people about an impending disaster, but failing miserably. In fact, they often end up simply getting themselves in trouble without accomplishing anything useful.
We're going to look at a story from the first issue, in which Doug and Tony try to prevent Lincoln's assassination. But there's a few interesting points about the series as a whole I want to mention first:
1. The character of Lt. Gen. Heyward Kirk, played by the great character actor Whit Bissell, does not appear in any of the tales. There might have been a legal reason for this, but I suspect that the short length of the stories required the cast of regular characters be streamlined a little.
2. In the TV show, everyone always spoke English no matter where and when the main characters appeared. As in Star Trek, the show broke from reality here to avoid unnecessary storytelling complications. In the comics, three of the five stories are set in places where English would have been spoken. A story set in Pompeii had Doug speaking Latin he learned in school. There's a story involving English-speaking Nazis from the future who were trying to use time-traveling nukes to take out the Allied fleet on D-Day--but maybe they were American Nazis, so what the hey.
3. Writer Paul S. Newman was probably given the premise of the show without any details about individual episodes, because the comic and the TV series each have their own versions of Doug and Tony at Little Big Horn, in France on D-Day and on a rocket in the future heading for Mars. Also, both media had a Lincoln assassination story, but the TV show had Doug and Tony foiling a plot in 1861.
Anyway, on to the story: Doug and Tony find themselves in Washington DC on April 14, 1865--the day Lincoln would be shot. They try to convince the manager at Ford Theater that there's a plot afoot, but (in a nice touch), they remember a detail wrong and discredit themselves.
Next, they try to track down the conspirators to find solid proof of their story, but nearly get arrested as sneak thieves. They attempt to warn Lincoln in person, but someone mistakes their mention of assassination as a threat and they have to run for it again. By now, everyone they've met think they're either nuts or assassins themselves. From Doug and Tony's point-of-view, it really is one enormously aggravating moment after another.
Well, Lincoln is killed and Doug and Tony are thought to be part of the plot: "If they knew, they must have
been in on the conspiracy! Kill them!" They're actually forced to follow after John Wilkes Booth, which simply makes them seem more guilty. Fortunately, they are teleported away by the Time Tunnel scientists just before they get lynched. Of course, they end up in Pompeii just before the volcano erupts and no one listens to them there either. Time travelling really IS aggravating, isn't it?
It's a fun, well-constructed story, using the idea that everything they do to help backfires against them to successfully generate suspense. Taking the five comic book stories together, it's possible to see in hindsight that the comic depended too often on the heroes trying to change history when they are fated to fail--it meant that they often didn't get to accomplish anything at all. It might have been better focusing on stories that allowed them to save innocent bystanders or achieve other small victories.
On the other hand, one tale does have them saving the D-Day invasion from future Nazis, so perhaps that made poor Doug and Tony feel a little better about time travel.
Showing posts with label Time Tunnel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Time Tunnel. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Thursday, April 4, 2013
March 3, 1967--Part 1
Well, he was right. It will indeed make an interesting post. In fact, there's enough to talk about that it's going to be a two- or three-parter.
Anyway, that Friday night in 1967 included the ABC shows The Time Tunnel and The Avengers; NBC's Tarzan, Man from UNCLE and Laredo; and Hogan's Heroes & The Wild Wild West on CBS.
We'll start with The Time Tunnel, a show I've talked about before. This was about two scientists who are lost in the time stream, dropping down into different times and places each episode while the scientists back in the Time Tunnel complex try to bring them home. It was without question a premise rich in potential for great stories.
The March 3 episode is "The Death Merchant," written by the husband & wife team of Bob and Wanda Duncan. It is, I think, one of the strongest episodes in The Time Tunnel's short run, though it also highlights some of the show's problems.
The two scientists (Doug Phillips and Tony Newman) drop in to Gettysburg during the height of the battle in July 1863. The plot starts off with several awkward contrivances in order to set up the story--Tony is given amnesia by an exploding artillery shell, then mistaken by a Confederate patrol to be the courier they've been waiting for. With no memory of anything else, Tony assumes this must be the case and goes along with it. In the meantime, Doug falls in with a Union officer who's tracking the Confederates. This sets the two men--normally the best of friends--against each other.
It really is painfully contrived, but once the story gets going, it also gets interesting. The Confederates are trying to retrieve a large supply of gunpowder from an arms dealer. The arms dealer turns out to be Machiavelli, who was accidentally caught up by the Time Tunnel and dropped into what is his future. He's getting involved in the Civil War pretty much just because he appreciates observing a war in which the armies are more evenly matched and so wants to help the South close its supply deficit.
The episode is directed by Nathan Juran, a talented veteran of B-movies and Ray Harryhausen films--and it benefits enormously from his skill. The story is laid out in a very straightforward manner, allowing us to follow the plot through its various twists and turns. The action scenes are handled very well, with fun and enthusiastic fight choreography.
I have always wondered, though, when and where two career scientists (presumably physicists) learned to fight so well in both hand-to-hand combat and with a variety of weapons from different eras. Heck, in this episode alone, they use their fists, swords and pistols with skill. It's not as if they were planning on getting lost in the time stream and so got some training first. They must have attended one heck of a grad school.
Perhaps the strongest aspect of the episode is the great job it does in humanizing the supporting characters, something helped along by talented character actors. Most notably, John Crawford as a Union officer and Kevin Hagen as a Southern sergeant both do superb jobs of bringing their characters to life. The end result of this is a real sense of the tragedy of war--a reminder that the people getting killed on both sides in the Civil War were often good people. This plays off nicely against Machiavelli (effectively played with a serving of Large Ham by Malachi Throne), who just wants to watch and enjoy a bloody battle.
By the way, there's no historical accuracy at all to the way Machiavelli is portrayed here--but he's a great villain nonetheless.
There's also an effective character moment back in the Time Tunnel complex, where the general in charge and the top scientist butt heads over whether they should concentrate on retrieving Doug and Tony or first work on returning Machiavelli to his proper time, even if that means losing track of their time-lost friends.
But, as I said, the episode also highlights one of the show's consistent weaknesses in that it never clearly establishes the rules of time travel that exist within the Time Tunnel universe. At one point, a character says that Machiavelli can't change history at Gettysburg, but Doug is working frantically to stop the gunpowder from getting to the Confederates. If history can't be changed, what difference does this make? Besides, there's at least one episode in the series in which Doug and Tony are working frantically to prevent history from being changed. And at least one where they are trying to change history. Oh, and there's the one in which Doug and Tony are in the 19th Century Old West trying to stop aliens from sucking away all of Earth's oxygen. But if history can't be changed, then the Earth can't die in the 19th Century, can it?
This is all complicated by the fact that Machiavelli--while he's out of his proper time--can't be killed. At one point, he's shot several times at close range, but the bullets apparently vanish or pass harmlessly through him. So does that mean Doug and Tony can't be killed? Or is it because Machiavelli is historically important? Machiavelli thinks its because he's in (from his perspective) the future and therefore is technically already dead, but he's a 15th Century philosopher, so what the heck does he know about time travel?
I enjoy The Time Tunnel for what it is, but it could have been so much better if the writers and producers had thought all this through. Good science fiction needs rules--things that the characters can or cannot do on a consistent basis--in order to build a believable universe. As fun as it could be, The Time Tunnel never quite succeeded in this area.
Tarzan starred Ron Ely as the Lord of the Jungle. His depiction of Tarzan is an interesting one, setting aside the monosyllabic ape man that Johnny Weissmuller had popularized in movie adaptations and playing the part as an educated and articulate man. So to an extent, he was much closer to Edgar Rice Burroughs' original character. Ely's Tarzan had been raised by apes, then returned to civilization to be educated. Afterwards, he decided he preferred the jungle and moved back there. There's no Jane in this version of the Tarzan universe, but he did care for an orphan named Jai (played by Manual Padilla, Jr.)
The March 3, 1967 episode was "Jungle Dragnet," which manages to rack up a pretty impressive body count before the end credits role. The villains are an African revolutionary named Kasembi and an American soldier-of-fortune named Thompson, who are using mercenaries dressed as government soldiers to terrorize villages and get them to sign over their mineral rights. This is because they've learned that there are rich oil deposits in the area.
When a geologist in one village also learns of the oil, the bad guys shut him up by massacring the entire village. Only the geologists young daughter survives. She has to be tracked down and killed also, because she might also know about the oil. Tarzan gets to the girl first and the bulk of the episode is Tarzan avoiding or outwitting the villains while he gets the girl to safety.
There are several things that make this a pretty strong episode. First, as in The Time Tunnel, several fine actors give the various characters real personality. In this case, Kasembi is played by William Marshall, who a few years later would play Blacula in the infamous 1972 blaxploitation film. But in my mind, his real geek cred comes from playing the no-longer-quite-sane Dr. Daystrom in the Star Trek episode "The Ultimate Computer." Marshall had a great voice and could exude intelligence and authority. But he could also give an aura of vulnerability to his characters. Kasembi is a perfect role for him--an educated man who had once dreamed of leading his nation to freedom, but had allowed tragedy and bitterness to drive him into a scheme involving mass murder for profit while still giving lip service to political ideology.
Thompson is played by Simon Oakland, a fine character actor who seems to have guest-starred in pretty much every television show every made, often playing short-tempered authority figures. Here, he portrays an absolutely reprehensible character--a man willing to kill anyone to achieve his goal. What makes him interesting is that you at first assume he's in it just for the money, but he does get a few lines of dialogue that imply he actually does at least partially believe the revolutionary politics he spouts.
Putting these two great actors together and allowing them to play off each other is part of what makes this a strong episode. It's also a good, solid story with an unusual conclusion.
This was a prime time show when it first aired, but I'm virtually certain I remember watching it on Saturday mornings when I was a kid--I assume it was rerun or syndicated later on and marketed towards kids. So--not having seen an episode in years--I was a little surprised at the amount of violence it contained. The poor little girl watches as her father takes an arrow in the back; an entire village is massacred, with the bodies lying around like cockroaches; and the village chieftain deliberately sacrifices his life in a ploy to hide the girl. But the violence isn't visually graphic, its a legitimate part of the plot and it gives the story a lot of honest emotional impact. I really should have been outside playing on Saturday mornings, but I don't think watching Tarzan left any psychological scars.
By the way, here's an interview with Ron Ely about Tarzan, recorded a year or so ago when the series was released on DVD. I got to contribute a question to the interview via Facebook because--well, because I'm awesome.
Hogan's Heroes ran from 1965 until 1971, running a little longer than World War II did in real life. It's premise, of course, involved Allied POWs in a German Stalag who were running spy and sabotage missions. Led by Colonel Hogan (played as a sort of cocky con man by Bob Crane), the supposed prisoners would pull off an absurdly elaborate mission each week and once again pull the wool over the eyes of those darn Nazis.
In the 3/3/67 episode, for instance, they need to convince a recently captured Free French pilot that his girl has not double-crossed him--a story the Nazis are using to try to make him talk and give away the location of his airbase. So they smuggle the girl into the camp, stage a play that involves a wedding, con a Gestapo officer into allowing the French guy to appear in it, and sneak the girl into the wedding scene. The camp commander, Colonel Klink, is playing the minister, which apparently makes the wedding legal. Or something like that.
With his faith in the girl restored, the French pilot now refuses to talk.
The show has often been criticized for making light of the Nazis--in real life the proponents of one of the most purely evil ideologies that has ever existed. In Hogan's Heroes, they are mocked as incompetent clowns.
But others have argued that's the point. Mel Brooks (who mocked Hitler in the movie The Producers) was once asked if it was possible to get revenge on Hitler through comedy. Brooks answered "Yes, absolutely. Of course it is impossible to take revenge for 6 million murdered Jews. But by using the medium of comedy, we can try to rob Hitler of his posthumous power and myths." (I've added the italics.)
Mocking the Nazis holds them up to ridicule in a way that really can rob them of the ability to gain power over others. I think this is a legitimate point-of-view and, while I respect those who have a problem with the concept of Hogan's Heroes, I myself am okay with the show.
Besides, John Banner (Sgt. Schultz) was an Austrian Jew who lost most of his family to the Nazis. Robert Clary (Corporal LeBeau) spent time in Buchenwald and lost a lot of his family as well. So if those guys were okay with Hogan's Heroes, then so am I. Banner, in fact, once responded to criticisms of Sgt. Schultz by saying "Schultz is not a Nazi. I see Schultz as the representative of some kind of goodness in any generation."
In fact, I would argue that Schultz is the heart of the show. First, John Banner was a great comedic actor. Also, Schultz is shown to be disdainful of the Nazis and to be a decent human being. The running gag for his character, of course, is that he often sees a lot of what Hogan and his men are doing, but refuses to acknowledge it. He doesn't want to rock the boat, get into trouble and end up getting sent to the Russian Front.
But there's an alternate interpretation of Schultz's character that--even though I doubt the show's writers intended it--I like enough to consider "true." This interpretation is that Schultz isn't as dumb as he acts. He realizes Hogan is running a full-scale espionage operation, even if he doesn't always know the details. He doesn't say anything not just out of self-preservation, but because he hates the Nazis and this is his way of helping knock them out of power. In his own way, Sgt. Schultz is working to save Germany from the evil men who have taken it over.
Yes, that's right. In the universe of Hogan's Heroes, the greatest hero and bravest man is Sgt. "I know nothing!" Schultz.
That's it for this week. If I can do so without once again rambling on far too long, I'll cover the remaining four shows in next week's post. Otherwise, I'll make this series a three-parter.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
I built a time machine when I was seven years old.
I really did.
I was reminded of this in a conversation I had the other day about childhood toys. I remember watching episodes of The Time Tunnel when I was a kid and that may have been the inspiration for my own efforts into temporal mechanics.
Anyway, it’s surprisingly easy to build a time machine. You just need a shoe box, some tape, a scissors and a few magic markers or crayons.
You turn the shoe box upside down. Using the box’s lid, you cut out a rectangle of cardboard. You tape this to one end of the box, projecting outwards. This is the Time Ray Projector.
You cut out another rectangle from the lid and draw some controls on it. This is the remote control, for bringing yourself back to the present after you’ve zapped yourself back into the past. Depending on how many controls you draw on it, you may also be able to travel directly to another past or future time period without returning home first.
Draw some more controls on the box. Now you’re done. Using the box controls, program in the time you want to visit. Then step in front of the Time Ray Projector. Zap, you’ve done it. You’ve traveled in time. Use the remote control to get yourself home again. (Safety tip: do NOT lose the remote control while you’re in the past.)
It really is that easy. For the life of me, I don’t know why everyone doesn’t have a time machine. It’s not like it’s that hard to get hold of a shoe box.
Certainly the scientists at the Time Tunnel wasted far too many of our tax dollars building their huge machine:
I was reminded of this in a conversation I had the other day about childhood toys. I remember watching episodes of The Time Tunnel when I was a kid and that may have been the inspiration for my own efforts into temporal mechanics.
Anyway, it’s surprisingly easy to build a time machine. You just need a shoe box, some tape, a scissors and a few magic markers or crayons.
You turn the shoe box upside down. Using the box’s lid, you cut out a rectangle of cardboard. You tape this to one end of the box, projecting outwards. This is the Time Ray Projector.
You cut out another rectangle from the lid and draw some controls on it. This is the remote control, for bringing yourself back to the present after you’ve zapped yourself back into the past. Depending on how many controls you draw on it, you may also be able to travel directly to another past or future time period without returning home first.
Draw some more controls on the box. Now you’re done. Using the box controls, program in the time you want to visit. Then step in front of the Time Ray Projector. Zap, you’ve done it. You’ve traveled in time. Use the remote control to get yourself home again. (Safety tip: do NOT lose the remote control while you’re in the past.)
It really is that easy. For the life of me, I don’t know why everyone doesn’t have a time machine. It’s not like it’s that hard to get hold of a shoe box.
Certainly the scientists at the Time Tunnel wasted far too many of our tax dollars building their huge machine:
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Irwin Allen sometimes gets on my nerves.
But Mr. Allen doesn't always get on my nerves. Sometimes--as much by sheer luck than anything else--he manages to entertain me.
Allen is remembered by many people for the seemingly countless disaster movies he produced in the 1970s (including the original Poseidon Adventure and The Towering Inferno), but many science fiction geeks remember the TV shows he produced in the 1960s. Lost in Space was the most successful. And it still has many fans, but in the end, I can't really count myself among them. Poor story construction was all too common in the individual episodes and--I'm sorry--but Dr. Smith is not on my "Favorite Characters of All Time" list. In fact, he literally grates on me.
I appreciate and respect those who enjoy the show for what it is (I can often enjoy silly science fiction myself)--but if I never hear "Oh, the pain, the pain!" or "Danger, Will Robinson!" again, I'll pull through somehow. I will give the show credit for some cool visual designs, though. The Jupiter Two and the Robot both look really good.
Then there's Land of the Giants, in which the crew and passengers of an aircraft fly through a dimensional rift and end up on an alternate Earth where everyone is really, really big. I watched it as a kid, but can't remember any details at all. All the '60s Irwin Allen shows are available on Hulu now, so I'll get around to trying one out eventually.
Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea started strong and boasted both a good cast and the third best make-believe submarine ever. So it's often a very enjoyable show. The quality dropped in later seasons, though, suffering from the same poor story construction that cursed Lost in Space. All the same, there's some really good science fiction and Cold War yarns scattered around in there.
The Irwin Allen series I remember most fondly is The Time Tunnel, in which a pair of scientists are trapped in the time stream, popping up in different times and places throughout history in every episode. They were at Gettysburg, Pearl Harbor, Little Big Horn and aboard the Titanic. And, by golly, they would always get involved. They helped out the French Underground just before D-Day; or fought with the Greeks at Troy; or tried (unsuccessfully) to warn the captain of the Titanic to take a sharp left at that iceberg.
The show benefited from a good cast and a wonderful design for the Time Tunnel facility. It had another thing going for it as well, in that the scientists at the Tunnel trying to rescue their time lost comrades really didn't know what they were doing. The show was successful at portraying them as intelligent, capable people--but it balanced this out by reminding us that they were working with a new technology that hadn't been perfected yet. So they were always trying things that didn't work. I don't remember how many times they accidentally brought the wrong guy forward in time (including Colonel Travis just before the final assault on the Alamo). Once, they snatched up a ticking bomb from Pearl Harbor. Their most entertaining screw-up was when one of the time-lost guys was surrounded by ticked-off Trojan soldiers. They decide to send him back a submachine gun and some grenades to even up the odds and, well, take a look at the episode yourself to see what happens:
If there were ever a case for more Congressional oversight, this is it.
The Time Tunnel only ran for 30 episodes. It is, in some ways, a failed experiment. It would have benefited from more internal continuity. For instance, the rules for whether you could or couldn't change history were never consistent. And the two scientists would always magically "change" cloths back to their original costumes before teleporting to another time. This was done so that the episodes could be shown in any order, but the story possibilties of showing up at, say ancient Troy, while still carrying the German Luger you acquired in 1944 France would have provided a lot of fun and variety.
Also, towards the end of its run, the show did a series of very weak alien invasion episodes (aliens in the Old West, aliens in 19th Century India, aliens in the future) that didn't fit comfortably into the show's theme and inadvertently emphasized its low budget.
But when it was good, The Time Tunnel was a blast. Yes, Irwin Allen did often get on my nerves. But not always. Every once in awhile, he'd do okay.
Allen is remembered by many people for the seemingly countless disaster movies he produced in the 1970s (including the original Poseidon Adventure and The Towering Inferno), but many science fiction geeks remember the TV shows he produced in the 1960s. Lost in Space was the most successful. And it still has many fans, but in the end, I can't really count myself among them. Poor story construction was all too common in the individual episodes and--I'm sorry--but Dr. Smith is not on my "Favorite Characters of All Time" list. In fact, he literally grates on me.
I appreciate and respect those who enjoy the show for what it is (I can often enjoy silly science fiction myself)--but if I never hear "Oh, the pain, the pain!" or "Danger, Will Robinson!" again, I'll pull through somehow. I will give the show credit for some cool visual designs, though. The Jupiter Two and the Robot both look really good.
Then there's Land of the Giants, in which the crew and passengers of an aircraft fly through a dimensional rift and end up on an alternate Earth where everyone is really, really big. I watched it as a kid, but can't remember any details at all. All the '60s Irwin Allen shows are available on Hulu now, so I'll get around to trying one out eventually.
Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea started strong and boasted both a good cast and the third best make-believe submarine ever. So it's often a very enjoyable show. The quality dropped in later seasons, though, suffering from the same poor story construction that cursed Lost in Space. All the same, there's some really good science fiction and Cold War yarns scattered around in there.
The Irwin Allen series I remember most fondly is The Time Tunnel, in which a pair of scientists are trapped in the time stream, popping up in different times and places throughout history in every episode. They were at Gettysburg, Pearl Harbor, Little Big Horn and aboard the Titanic. And, by golly, they would always get involved. They helped out the French Underground just before D-Day; or fought with the Greeks at Troy; or tried (unsuccessfully) to warn the captain of the Titanic to take a sharp left at that iceberg.
The show benefited from a good cast and a wonderful design for the Time Tunnel facility. It had another thing going for it as well, in that the scientists at the Tunnel trying to rescue their time lost comrades really didn't know what they were doing. The show was successful at portraying them as intelligent, capable people--but it balanced this out by reminding us that they were working with a new technology that hadn't been perfected yet. So they were always trying things that didn't work. I don't remember how many times they accidentally brought the wrong guy forward in time (including Colonel Travis just before the final assault on the Alamo). Once, they snatched up a ticking bomb from Pearl Harbor. Their most entertaining screw-up was when one of the time-lost guys was surrounded by ticked-off Trojan soldiers. They decide to send him back a submachine gun and some grenades to even up the odds and, well, take a look at the episode yourself to see what happens:
If there were ever a case for more Congressional oversight, this is it.
The Time Tunnel only ran for 30 episodes. It is, in some ways, a failed experiment. It would have benefited from more internal continuity. For instance, the rules for whether you could or couldn't change history were never consistent. And the two scientists would always magically "change" cloths back to their original costumes before teleporting to another time. This was done so that the episodes could be shown in any order, but the story possibilties of showing up at, say ancient Troy, while still carrying the German Luger you acquired in 1944 France would have provided a lot of fun and variety.
Also, towards the end of its run, the show did a series of very weak alien invasion episodes (aliens in the Old West, aliens in 19th Century India, aliens in the future) that didn't fit comfortably into the show's theme and inadvertently emphasized its low budget.
But when it was good, The Time Tunnel was a blast. Yes, Irwin Allen did often get on my nerves. But not always. Every once in awhile, he'd do okay.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)