Sunday 27 October 1963

Space Magnet was the last episode of Fireball XL5 to be broadcast in the show's original run, but it was only the fourth to be made so we can hardly expect a spectacular finale (anyway, we've already had that with the gloriously odd Space City Special).  However, it's such a humdrum episode that I can't help being disappointed that this is the last time I'm going to be writing about Steve Zodiac and his chums.

As he waits for his patrol shift on Fireball XL5 to begin, Steve reads about the interplanetary league spaceship race, which, apparently, was "real boss".  Professor Matic's quite excited about too - he's keen to enter XL5 at some point.  "Oh professor, can't you stop thinking about flying for once?" Venus chides him.  "Well, what else is there?" he asks.  Venus's response gives us a disappointing picture of the role of a female Space Doctor in the latter half of the 21st century: "Well, I find plenty to do: sewing on buttons and doing the laundry for crusty old bachelors like you and Steve!" Good grief.

Before Godfrey Blooms everywhere can get more excited about this vision of future female drudgery, our attention's drawn to Zoonie the Lazoon, who's acting very strangely.  More so than usual, I mean.  He's quivering and shaking all over the place.  Apparently he's got a special sensitivity to danger (first I've heard of it), and he senses something bad's coming.

Could this be in any way connected to the fact that Fireball XL7's suddenly spun out of control during a routine patrol, inexorably drawn forward by a mysterious force? (You may have noticed that inexorable forces pulling at spaceships have been a regular feature of the last few weeks' Fireballs).  Steve and the gang head off to investigate.  During their voyage we get a glimpse at Matt Matic's Wallace & Gromit-esque tea-making machine, connected to an antiquated alarm clock from 1962 (is Fireball XL5 set in some dread parallel universe where the teasmade was never invented?)

Venus is distinctly unimpressed with Matt ruining one of her retorts by using it in his contraption.  There's a bizarre concentration in this episode on Matt's love of hot drinks.  It's such a key element of the episode that it seems certain it'll play a major part in the conclusion: perhaps he'll defeat an alien by accidentally scalding it with hot water.  But no, it proves to have absolutely nothing to do with anything.

Reaching the spot XL7 was last seen, the XL5 crew are amazed to find it's not there.  And even more unexpected, the moon seems to have disappeared as well.  Eventually it pops up again, but it seems to be much further away than normal, so Steve chases after it.  XL5 gets pulled forward by the mysterious force at a speed that sends everything in the ship haywire (a situation that would be almost exactly repeated in the later, but already broadcast, episode Faster Than Light).

The crew lose consciousness: when they awake Matt works out that they're heading for the planet Magneton. "The magnetic planet - of course!" Venus exclaims.  Something's vastly increased the planet's magnetic force, and it looks like our heroes might be about to find out what.  Just about managing a safe landing, Steve, Venus and Matt head out to investigate (despite presumably being made largely of metal their hoverscooters seem unaffected by the magnetic force).  Eventually they discover an enormous power plant generating the magnetic force and fuelled by scrap metal drawn to the planet - including the remains of XL7.

Making their way inside, they encounter the Solars, a race of those most budget-friendly of all aliens: invisible ones.  Their leader, the Super Solar, crows about his plans to draw the moon into Magneton's orbit in order to make the planet a bit lighter.  And there's nothing Steve can do to stop him! Oh, turns out he can, actually: he just whips out his gun and starts firing randomly, apparently killing all the Solars off.  Whoops.

But wait, the moon's still heading straight for the planet? Could disaster be on its way?

No, it's OK: Matt switches something off, sending the moon back to its rightful place.  Phew.

A great deal of fannying about on XL5 and a truly ridiculous conclusion help make Space Magnet one of the very worst Fireball XL5 episodes (which could be why it took so long to show it).  However, the final scene's not that bad a way to end the series, depending on your tolerance for romance: Steve and Venus nuzzling outside her beach house and gazing on the newly restored moon, the theme song kicking in as the camera pulls back.  It's quite sweet, really.

Right, that's the very last time Fireball XL5 will be featured around these parts, I'm sorry to say: it's been one of the most consistently fun shows to write about of all those I've featured at TV Minus 50.  Luckily, Mr Gerry Anderson and his team are cooking up something rather special for next year...

You can watch Space Magnet for yourself here.  Preferably with a hot drink:

Sunday 20 October 1963

Sabotage gets off to a fantastic start when Fireball XL5, on its way back to Earth, suddenly goes haywire.  Smoke billows out of every conceivable place, there are explosions galore, and Matt Matic's revolving chair takes on a life of its own.  And it seems there's a bomb in the heart of the space gyro mechanism (which looks like an upside-down laundry basket)!

Who could be behind all this chaos? Well, you may not be hugely surprised to learn that it's an evil alien.  This one's called an Arcon. He looks like this:

Yes, he's got a gamma ray (which, according to Space Doctor Venus, is "a rare form of anaesthetic radiation").  Having paralysed Fireball, the Arcon uses the gamma ray (which clearly also functions as a sort of tractor beam) to draw the crew out of the ship and towards the planet Electa, lair of the Ultra-Arcon.

It's the  first phase in an Arcon scheme to rule Earth, "the prize of the universe" - and the Arcons have sneakily managed to plant bombs in all of the World Space Patrol's ships (how this feat was achieved is skimmed over).  The Ultra-Arcon is full of glee over his capture of Earth's finest astronauts.

Clearly the Arcons are keen lepidopterists - the other one was going on earlier about the gamma ray drawing the XL5 crew like moths to a flame.  The Ultra-Arcon also insists on rudely referring to his captive Earthlings as flabby pink people (what colour Arcons are we never learn).

But the crew member who suffers most at Arcon hands is neither pink nor flabby: it's poor Robert, who ends up having the inside of his head smashed to pieces by the thoroughly mean Ultra-Arcon.

Eventually our heroes manage to escape in Arcon spaceship, only narrowly avoiding being blasted out of the sky by Commander Zero, who most unusually has left Space City to come and rescue them.  But it all ends well, and you can see how here:

Sabotage is vastly more exciting than the last couple of weeks' episodes, and the Arcons are one of the show's most interesting alien races.  On the one hand, they're the most obvious example of previously used puppets who've been given a new paint job and extra bits added - what looks like strips of card on their nose and under their mouths look ridiculous in close-up.  And yet, particularly in longer shots they look genuinely creepy, helped along by their glowing eyes and - in my case - their vague resemblance to Doomlord from the 1980s version of the Eagle comic, who absolutely terrified me as a young child.

Sunday 13 October 1963

I've been very slack lately (not that you wish to know about my personal problems), and failed to keep you the reader abreast of developments beyond the small screen in 1963.  Well, here's a selection: the report on the Profumo affair has been published, proving an instant bestseller even among those previously unfamiliar with the works of H M Stationery Office, Britain's first Early Warning station has begun operation on the Yorkshire moors, and the Robbins report recommending the wide expansion of Britain's universities has been published (not quite as big a bestseller as the Profumo one for some reason).  The Conservative government's still reeling from the Profumo fall-out, and this week ill health forced the resignation of Prime Minister Harold Macmillan.  The spectacularly dirty fight to succeed him is on...

Still, it'll all be the same in a hundred years.  Or maybe it'll look like this:

It's taken a long time to reach the screen but Hypnotic Sphere was in fact only the second episode of Fireball XL5 to be made.  To a viewer used to the later episodes there are some obvious differences at this early stage of the show.  The characters' voices don't sound quite right yet: Venus is huskier, and Matt is whinier.  They look a bit different too: especially noticeable are Matt's jet black painted-on eyebrows, even more alarming than the prodigiously bushy ones he'd later spout.  More than anything, the crew of Fireball XL5 just look really untidy: their hair's all over the place and their clothes don't look especially well-fitting.  Here's Venus giving Steve his daily medical check-up: what a pair of scruffbags.  It's good to know that a higher standard of puppet grooming was introduced as the series went on.

There's also a noticeable lack of Zoonie the Lazoon.  Whether this is a boon or not is for the individual viewer to decide.

Hypnotic Sphere is pure pulp sci-fi, with few of the eccentric details that would make Fireball XL5 so endearing.  The plot is pretty much encapsulated in the title: it's about a mysterious sphere that appears in space and puts tanker pilots in a catatonic state.  As illustrated below.

The XL5 crew investigate, and soon find themselves coming under the influence of the sphere's pulsating lights and a strange, sonorous voice that seems to be emanating from all the ship's electronic equipment.

Even ship's robot Robert briefly falls under the influence of the sphere, and the voice's exhortations that the ship change course.  He snaps out of it, though, and satisfyingly socks Steve Zodiac on the jaw to prevent him carrying out the voice's commands.

Robert manages to successfully pilot XL5 away from the sphere's, er, sphere of influence, although the ship nearly crashes into Murana, the planet of fire (looks more like the planet of disco if you ask me).

Despite no longer being under the sphere's control, Steve decides to head to where it wanted him to go anyway, in order to find the brain behind the mysterious object.  And that's just what it is: the none-more-pulp vision of a brain in a jar with a single gigantic eye (but at least he has a lovely voice).

We learn nothing about the origin of this dastardly organ - all we know is that it plans to achieve mastery of the universe with a fleet of spheres (presumably built by hypnotised slaves).  When Steve, Matt and Venus infiltrate its unguarded inner sanctum, Matt figures out that the brain is susceptible to cold - which it rather imprudently admits.  Despite the brain exerting its hypnotic powers, Steve's able to hold out long enough to blast the heating system, causing it to deflate.

Well, the plan for universal domination was never really going to work out, was it? Still, you can't fault the little chap's ambition.

Aboard Fireball XL5 everyone enjoys a celebratory cup of Space Coffee (the people of the 21st century certainly know how to live), and the episode ends with the startling appearance of an element of the show that would soon be dropped, as Steve and Venus appear poised to snog at the final fade-out.  I just don't know where to look.

Why not make yourself a nice mug of space coffee now (it might help prevent you coming under the 'fluence), and settle down with Hypnotic Sphere.

Sunday 6 October 1963

Yes, everyone's other favourite TV puppet show about space exploration is back for a short run of episodes that were left out in the original broadcast.  Starting with:

Fireball XL5 seems to have been reduced to providing a taxi service, with Steve Zodiac ferrying a bushy-browed geologist known only as Fraser to the planet Electon, where he's to do some surveying..

Apparently the people of Electon are "a little backward" compared to Earth, but it still seems a bit rude not to have let anyone know in advance that Fraser was coming to find out what minerals they have that can be exploited.  The place Fireball Jr touches down in seems to be completely deserted, and the scenes of the geologist exploring the ghost town are effectively eerie thanks to little touches like a real spider scuttling over a cobweb-laden dinner plate, as well as Barry Gray's masterful use of that spookiest of all instruments, the theremin.

Fortunately Fraser finds a cupboard stocked with enough supplies to keep him going (apparently the 22nd century equivalent of supermarket value brands.

His next discovery is more bizarre: a strange, glowing rock (that looks a bit like a brain).  Examining it, Fraser decides it's electric, and rapidly heads off to uncover more of these electric rocks for himself.  He becomes completely obsessed with finding more and more of the rock, and as is often the case with men obsessed, hygiene and personal grooming rapidly go out the window (given his old-timey prospector accent it's a shame it's not Matt Matic undergoing this transformation).

It's not just Fraser who wants to get hold of the electric rock - a strange pair of space-gnomes from a neighbouring planet are heading off to Electon in their magnet-powered ship to collect some more of it to use as a power source.

The regular characters disappear for a big chunk of the episode as Fraser descends into madness and the alien pixies waffle on about how they've managed to clear out all the Electons to get the electric rock all for themselves, but finally they return to pick up their geologist friend.  Steve's shocked by the state Fraser's got himself into: Venus diagnoses a form of "space melancholia" (of course).

Fraser refuses to be dragged away from his rocks, and the Fireball XL5 crew stay the night in an empty house, where all sorts of hokey old dark house stuff happens during the night, including Venus's quilt mysteriously moving about and Matt's glasses being snatched.

Next day, the ever-more-doolally Fraser starts catapulting electric rocks at Steve and chums in order to make them leave.  But then he's mysteriously propelled into the sky...

When the ship descends with an unconscious Fraser, Steve meets the goblins.  It turns out the supernatural phenomena of the night before were a side-effect of the magnets on their ship (all perfectly scientifically accurate, I'm sure), which also made the Electons scarper.  Steve tells the little men off for trying to keep all the rock for themselves rather than sharing it with the Electons, and, ashamed, they agree to do so in future.

The Electons, who've apparently been hiding out elsewhere on the planet, return to their town.  We don't get to actually see them, just the rather pathetic banner erected to welcome them.  Note there's only one name on it.  What a glory hunter.

Fraser's taken back to Earth for a shave and a change of clothes.

It's not surprising Ghosts of Space was held back - it's well below the series' usual standard: a simple-minded story boringly told.  Shame, really: Barry Gray's wonderfully eerie music for the episode deserved a much better showcase.