Like so many, I was fascinated with the whole ‘Mayan Prophecy’ of our alleged ‘End Times.’  (Yeah, that one that didn’t quite come to pass.)  I’ve always argued that there’s something innate about humanity’s fascination with our own demise, be it weather-driven, computer-driven, or Zombie-driven catastrophes.  There’s something deep within each of us that compels us to contemplate “the end of life as we know it,” and it’s that same compulsion driving us to gaze over at car crashes and such: we just can’t help but hope to catch a glimpse of ‘The Big Sleep,’ and so much of what the Mayans prophesied taps into those dark corners of our collective consciousness.

All too often, however, storytellers try to cash in on said fears: they’re perfectly willing to break bread with our impending doom yet sadly bring not so much as a dish to pass to the potluck.  They cheat by drawing us in, daring viewers to wait for the big finish, only to disappoint, doling out dog-worthy scraps instead of a shared meal.  Such is the case with Joaquin Rodriguez’s Curse Of The Mayans, a direct-to-DVD release (so far as I’ve been able to find) tempting mankind to explore one more diversion into what could’ve been … or may even yet to be.
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From the product packaging:
“In present day, Dr. Alan Green, an American professor discovers the manuscript and the ark during his studies and believes he has found the key to the lost Mayan culture.  He travels to Mexico and hires an expert team of cave divers led by Danielle Noble to explore an underwater labyrinth where he hopes to unearth more secrets about how the Mayans lived and why they disappeared …”

There’s more, but not much of it provides sufficient excuse for audiences to invest serious time in this Curse.  Suffice it to say, writer/director Rodriguez hasn’t made a bad film: rather, it’s more like a travelogue wherein the plot of a B-flick suddenly broke out.

For those of you who have never experienced a legitimate travelogue, here’s an explanation: back in the days of my youth, worldwide travelers used to be invited to the local high school auditorium or gymnasium for the purposes of putting on an informational slide show about a particular trip of theirs.  Educators used to think this was a way to bring the trials and tribulations of the Ugandan people to their students, but – being perfectly honest – all of the ones I attended (some required, some for extra credit) were relatively uninspired if not downright snore-inducing.  No matter how they try, it’s hard to capture the beauty and majesty of the Third World in two-dimensional flickerings projected onto small silver screens, but kudos to all of those who gave it the sailor’s try.

And no matter how hard he tried, Rodriguez barely achieves the same results with his Curse: the rich culture of the Mayans – what little of it gets airtime here – feels less authentic and more staged for the purposes of a future audience.  Oh, the production quality is there – much like the travel shows of my teens – but it isn’t all that interesting, nor does it sufficiently add depth of his paper-thin monster story of how they left behind a monster that’ll prophesize an alien race’s return.

​Admirably, Curse tries to follow in the mold of other features that’ve already provided a foundation for such a tale.  Ridley Scott’s Alien franchise as well as the multiple Predator flicks revolve around various crews hell bent on surviving their respective brushes with creatures, and Curse’s greatest asset lies in lead diver Danielle Noble (played by Carla Ortiz).  She’s athletic and occasionally passionate about her work, giving smart watchers something to focus on other than some nifty underwater photography.  Rodriguez’s script even gives her the requisite emotional baggage which threatens her performance, and – like Alien’s Ellen Ripley – Noble must come to grips with past failures in order to kinda/sorta survive an impending tragedy.  Dare I say: I’ve already seen Ripley in action, milady, and you’re no Ellen Ripley.

​At around 90 minutes in length, Curse is just too muddled by characters who mean little and circumstances that don’t add flavor to an already flat center. I don’t doubt that maybe – just maybe – there’s a nifty li’l 30-minute ‘Twilight Zone’ episode in here, but as this one stands viewers are better suited to fast forward to the second half and spare themselves the agony of inconsequential banter.  The ending promises more to come – much in the way any good ‘Zone’ did – but I, for on, hope this is the only dip into these waters we take.  As it stands, this 'Lara Croft' is all wet.

​Like so many of us who blog these days, I, too, was there in the theatres when George Lucas first promised to whisk us off to a galaxy far, far away.
 
I was understandably captivated with Star Wars.  I had the action figures.  I read the comics.  I listened to the soundtrack album constantly.  I drank it all in, and I swam ably and as often as I could in its cinematic ocean.  True, I had first wanted to grow up to be Star Trek’s Captain Kirk, but Luke Skywalker?  Where Kirk had swagger, Luke wrapped himself in a kind of youthful optimism that made you think he, too, probably relished the prospect of going where no man had gone before.  Young Skywalker was about as admirable a second place as a young guy my age could want, though perhaps a bit too whiny to legitimately be called ‘a new hope’ when he was.
 
In a manner many storytellers have tried to understand and replicate, Star Wars lit the fuse for a generation of moviegoers, exploding into our collective consciousness the way only the best space fantasies always have.  One of those truly inspired by all things Lucas was a young JJ Abrams, the auteur eventually tasked with bringing the franchise back to silver screens everywhere with The Force Awakens (2015).  With it, Abrams paved the way for a new generation of heroes – Rey, Finn, and Poe – to carry the torch for audiences new and old, perhaps guaranteeing The Force will be with us (always) whether we wanted it or not.
 
Still, for all its studio polish, I found Awakens a creative ‘dud’ for many of the same reasons fanboys and girls my age did: it was simply too derivative.
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​Every narrative ‘beat’ felt like it had been fashioned to deliberately harken back to Lucas’s Original Trilogy – the band of upstart rebels, the planet-destroying weaponry, the race to save the galaxy from certain destruction, etc. – and much of the story revolved around these new characters who just (dare I say?) weren’t all that interesting.  While Daisy Ridley’s ‘Rey’ was inspired, John Boyega’s ‘Finn’ seemed like watered-down Will Smith (the actor) circa 1990 and Oscar Isaac’s ‘Poe’ sounded like watered down Han Solo (the character).  The villainous Kylo Ren (played by Adam Driver) spent much of his screen time throwing tantrums like some X-generation Bond villain holdover (how did he possibly survive Sith much less Jedi training with this attitude?); and Domhnall Gleeson delivered the best Nazi propaganda speeches since the Third Reich.
 
To make matters worse, Abrams entire script postulated that all of the gains of that bold Original Trilogy truly amounted to nothing in the fate of the greater galaxy.  The Rebellion – that fateful organization which returned freedom and free will to the Galactic Senate – was held in contempt by the surviving government.  To the victors went none of the spoils; instead, Leia and company were forced to spin-off on their own into The Resistance.  And The Empire?  Well, it didn’t go away in the slightest.  In fact, it just opened up shop under a new name, too: The First Order.  Even had its own evil Emperor – Supreme Leader Snoke – at its head with its own Vader Jr. (Kylo Ren) as his enforcer.  They dropped ‘The Sith’ and replaced it with ‘The Knights of Ren’... and you can probably see where I’m going with all of this.  Nothing was new.  Nothing was fresh.  It was, simply, handed down.
 
Despite vanquishing the forces of evil, Luke and his friends weren’t so much as rewarded with a single Republic franchise for their effort.  Abrams’ carefully undid everything the Original Trilogy accomplished: he simply erased the blackboard and started anew, bringing back a few familiar faces to … what?  Make it all somehow seem fresh?
 
Thankfully, writer/director Rian Johnson shed so much of Abrams’ paper-thin ideas and simply focused on telling a story with 2017’s Star Wars: Episode VIII – The Last Jedi.  Heck, he even dispatches a few of those unnecessary creations in pretty grand fashion, trimming the cast and giving the franchise a much-needed makeover for a new generation of Force-lovers.  Now, The Last Jedi may not be perfect.  It may not – at times – make perfect sense.  But it’s the kind of wild ride audiences probably expect from the name ‘Walt Disney.’
 
Essentially what carries this film is the budding relationship between Rey and Kylo.  Although there’s sadly still no explanation offered for Rey’s sudden onset of Jedi mastery, Kylo continues to wrench apart at the seams with each passing failure (and there are plenty).  Though spiritually at odds, they’re somehow connected by what appears to be much more than just The Force.  To their credit, Driver and Ridley have found a shared dramatic center, and Johnson’s script pushes the envelope in a weird kinda/sorta ‘will they or won’t they’ dynamic.  There is goodness and evil pulling them apart in equal measure, and this duo get terrific mileage out of their galaxy-spanning tête-à-tête.

For what it’s worth, The Last Jedi is the kind of film best watched in much the same way many of its exquisite action sequences work best: at light speed.  When it slows down and tries to make broader sense of its characters, situations, and circumstances, it just doesn’t quite work as well as it should.  (Why is it that an entire fleet with light speed capabilities can’t seem to get ahead of the fleeing Resistance ships?  Was it necessary to have the entirely CGI character of Maz Kanata ‘phone in’ a holographic cameo?  How exactly would bombers work in the zero gravity of outer space?  Did we have to spend so much time on the gambling planet?  And is Benecio del Toro stuttering?  Didn't he already do that in The Usual Suspects?)  Johnson’s script is too often clunky as side plots feed into the central premise of The Empire striking back, and many of these diversions require more time, weight, and explanation than they’re given.  Consequently, some of the antics “feel” a bit too much like “antics” instead of necessary AND thoughtful organic developments.
 
If those points aren’t enough, then how about:

• Luke’s motivation for leaving the galaxy high and dry might seem pure, but his personal predicament is a far cry from the young Jedi who just decades earlier would stop at nothing to save his friends and family from certain doom.
• Finn’s mysterious illness vanishes as quickly as it came.  In its place?  A mortal adversary – Captain Phasma – who never quite displays the moxie behind the vaunted reputation either film has given her.
• Poe’s inability to follow orders would likely have him grounded for life, if not thrown out of any respectable military ever.
• Snoke’s background remains shrouded in mystery, and – without ruining it – audiences might know nothing more of him.  Ever.
• The Knights of Ren?  They remain as elusive as our world’s Knights of Columbus.
• And Leia?  Well, she managed to lead The Resistance nearly into oblivion, with no one in the galaxy seemingly noting nor caring.  How’s that for leadership?

 
There are more quibbles, mind you, but I’m trying not to spoil some of what makes the film worth a viewing.  I know, I know.  Nitpicking, right?  Well, if it’s “nitpicking” to want things to make narrative sense, then I suppose I am.
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​Despite these shortcomings, I’ll admit that I still found The Last Jedi a rollicking blast.

Like any good carnival attraction, it’ll have you on the edge of your seat as you ride over the rails.  Unlike The Force Awakens (which I found to be one of the worst big budget examples of fan fiction ever produced), Jedi captures the spirit of high adventure that mostly made the Original Trilogy a bucket of fun.  The Force is back the way it was always meant to be – an almost lyrical current beneath the galaxy at large – and, despite the ominous title, it’s clear to this viewer that those rascally warriors with their laser swords are always only a generation away.

At some point in his professional life and career, Leonard Nimoy underwent a cultural epiphany.  See, not long after his first foray in the realm of Star Trek, the actor penned an autobiographical tome called "I Am Not Spock" in an attempt to distance himself from the popular character he had helped craft on the Gene Roddenberry franchise.  Years later, he kinda/sorta rethought his position, and -- realizing he wishes to correct the record -- wrote and sold another even vastly more popular work called "I Am Spock" in which he came to terms with playing a pop culture icon that will forever be a part of television history.

Ahem.

Enter Wil Wheaton ...

For those unaware, Wheaton found SciFi fame in the role of Ensign Wesley Crusher aboard the revered Star Trek: The Next Generation, but his character didn't enjoy the warm reception that the Vulcan Spock did.  Arguably, Crusher is quite probably as revered as he is hated amongst even the most forgiving Star Trek enthusiasts.  And -- to be perfectly fair -- none of this is really "owed" in any part to Wheaton: Crusher was simply -- in my humble estimation -- an addition to Trek that wasn't well written or conceived.  He was always a little too wide-eyed and nerdy for my tastes, and the writers inserted the young man into situations oft times with dialogue that seemed written for someone half his perceived age.  I think Wheaton probably did the best he could with what he was given, but he's always seemed to take issue and/or umbrage with fans online who sound off on Wesley's awesomeness and awfulness.

In fact, I think it was just this last year that the actor threatened to block any and all persons taking part in the 'Shut up, Wesley' memes that occasionally surface on the web.  (The meme is owed to an episode of The Next Generation wherein Capt. Jean-Luc Picard famously told the boy to do just that.)  Wheaton didn't want the meme to spread any longer, so he took it upon himself to run point on a mission to wipe it from virtual existence.  (I think it was actor Patrick Stewart who -- just as famously -- chimed in with "Shut up, Wil," at this point.)

Word comes from an article on Screen Rant (here) that now Wheaton is focusing his sights on the forthcoming toy issue of Star Trek: The Next Generation minifigs in which his character is blessed with a crying, boyish face.  Though he claims to 'get' the joke, the actor is still calling the effort lazy and uninspired and suggests such foolishness might be turning kids off science.

Might I suggest that Mr. Wheaton take a page or two out of Nimoy's shared epiphanies and be a bit more thankful that he's been given such a perch in TV history?  Is it so bad to be forever linked with a character that's still inspiring the best AND perhaps the worst in us?  Mind you, I'm not trying to sound jealous here, but -- at some point -- actors are just actors playing a role, and maybe it could be left at that?  I don't doubt that maybe there's a bit of personal chiding that goes hand-in-hand public ridicule, but in the grand scope of history isn't this little more than small potatoes?

As always, thanks for reading, live long and prosper, and May The Force Be With You!

As a longtime fan of The X-Files, I wasn't all that thrilled with the weak return of episodes Season 10 provided via Fox TV back in 2016.

Now, I don't say this as any slight to the actors or writers.  I think much of the blame is honestly owed to series showrunner Chris Carter who took the franchise in some -- ahem -- less curious directions after about Season 5 or so.  Once he started undoing the mythology that had been so cleverly crafted with more conventional explanations, X lost a lot of its luster for me, and as much as I love seeing TV's most revered pairing of David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson strut their stuff I've always been more of a 'story-guy' ... and X just hasn't been all that interesting in several seasons.

In any event, word has it that Gillian has had enough: the A.V. Club has cited an interview she's provided the media in anticipation of Season 11 starting just this week wherein the actress confirms her days with the franchise are, indeed, numbered.  You can check out the blurb right here.

As always, thanks for reading, live long and prosper, and May The Force Be With You!

Wow: that was quick!

Not long after creating so much controversy with his first foray into the greater universe of Star Wars with The Last Jedi, Rian Johnson is heading back to the galaxy far, far away just this year as Geek Tyrant reports that his new trilogy will start shooting relatively soon right here.

For those who've been asking, the answer is "yes, I have seen the new flick," but I've kinda/sorta held off from penning a review.  As I mentioned above, the feature has been somewhat controversial with audiences and online peeps -- in some cases for reasons I agreed with, in some cases I could dispute -- and I'm trying to come up with something unique to say about it.  The straight skinny is that I enjoyed it quite a bit, but I think I did so for reasons that tie in with my open dislike and disappointment over JJ Abrams' lackluster The Force Awakens.  I give you my word that I'll get something up -- probably soon -- but don't look for it to be anything world-shaking in the slightest.

​As always, thanks for reading, live long and prosper, and May The Force Be With You!

There's a reason I always caution readers to take anything (if not everything) I say with a grain of salt.

Unlike other bloggers, I don't pretend to know everything.  All I do know is based on my own reading and experiences, as well as facts and tips I get passed on to me (occasionally) from others both in the entertainment business and beyond.  And when studio advertising executives try to convince you that they have 'the next big thing' in store for you, don't ever believe it.  Their job -- as a matter of fact -- is to make you accept such a promise (and premise) without a second thought, and I'm just not wired that way, especially when it comes to studio executives.  (Remember: they were the ones that passed on Star Wars so often that George Lucas pretty much had to do anything he could to get 20th Century Fox to give him a chance.)

2014's Ex Machina was a great Science Fiction feature, but -- in my opinion -- it wasn't all that "original."  Alex Garland's deep and personal look at living with Artificial Intelligence is pretty grand and exciting ... but "original"?  Well, it's only original if you haven't seen the treasure trove of films and TV series' episodes that had already explored such an idea ad infinitum.  What Ex Machina did, however, was bring the topic to the attention of the greater entertainment industry AND its critical intelligentsia; and thus a modest-sized blockbuster was born.  (Again, I'm not nitpicking here so much as I'm trying to be brutally honest: I like the film, but I just didn't think it was all that "original" ... so take that, haters!)

Next up for Mr. Garland is Annihilation.  It's based on a novel by Jeff VanderMeer.  The trailer dropped, and I wanted to get it up here on SciFiHistory.Net for those interested in such projects.  Hopefully this one will be (minimally) as interesting as Ex Machina as Garland does do some pretty spiffy work.
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Well, ain't that a kick in the seat of the pants ...

Awhile back, I'd read something about SciFi novelist Richard Morgan's Altered Carbon receiving the small screen treatment, but I honestly thought I'd read it was heading to the Starz Network.  (I say this only because I'm a Starz subscriber, and I recall being jazzed about the potential.)  However, this latest trailer/tease indicates that the property is going the way of Netflix, and -- sadly -- I don't Netflix.  (I realize that, to some of you Millennials, that probably makes me the AntiChrist.)  Still, I enjoyed the book but found it occasionally a bit muddled if not confusing: I didn't quite always understand Morgan's futureworld, but the premise of'sleeving' from body to body for near-immortality is always appealing.

In any event, the trailer looks spiffy in an almost Blade Runner way.  I figure you kids who patronize the anti-American Netflix will have to keep me up-to-date with the show's developments until it drops on home video (DVD).  Check out the tease below if you're interested.
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We can be honest with one another can't we?  It's never been easy being a Star Trek fan, and much of that is owed to the ongoing management of the franchise.

Now, I never like to nitpick.  Like many, I take pride in admitting what I enjoy as well as what I don't; but Star Trek -- for me -- has often times been its own worst enemy.  Launching on the Boob Tube largely as 'the little show that could,' it's enduring a half-century of mocking alongside the occasional mainstream praise, and even many of the actors who were granted small screen and/or big screen careers thanks to the property even malign it from time to time.  That and the fact that the suits at Paramount Pictures never quite know what to do with it in order to keep it popular has made for an uphill battle for fans wishing once and for all that society could "come together" out of respect for entertainment.

Still, its bloated stinkers like Star Trek: Insurrection (1998) that I think have largely kept these more modern incarnations of the Roddenberry franchise from finding greater love.  Insurrection is often referred to as "The Next Generation's Star Trek V: The Final Frontier" (another entry that deservedly takes it on the chin for the original cast), and even upon viewing today -- 19 years later -- it doesn't quite hold up alongside even the TV show's lesser episodes.  Although my two cents on greater Trekdom is that each and every incarnation and/or hour has offered me something of substance to think about, I'll still concede that none of TNG's big screen outings meant all that much to me; each of them felt like rehashed episodes given a bigger budget without bigger ideas.

Besides that, I won't nitpick it further.  At the end of the day, it is what it is, and maybe I'll take the time to give it a fuller re-examination when it turns two decades old next year.  We'll all just have to wait and see.

In the meantime, live long and prosper!

DISCLAIMER: Right up front, I’m going to confess that I’ve never been much of a Marvel guy.  Although I grew up on a steady diet of comic books, the heroes like Iron Man, Spider-Man, and Thor just never much kept my attention nor tickled my fancy.  When it comes to their movies, I’ve surprisingly felt much the same … but I always hold out hope for enough entertainment to make it worth my buck.  So there you are.  You’ve been warned.

Ah, Thor, what a wicked spell you weave!

For all intents and purposes, your first cinematic adventure was quite grand, balancing just the right mix of wit and weight for even casual superhero fans to go along for the ride.  Thor: The Dark World tried really hard to recapture some of what made the original a winning feature, but I’d be hard pressed to tell you much of what came down the pike in that theatrical outing.  (If memory serves, your mom died, no?)  Here we are already with your third picture – Thor: Ragnarok – and I find myself where I usually am with most Marvel experiences: I’m not quite interested in all you have to do, but it does make the popcorn go down easily.

The truth is Ragnarok is looking and performing most likely exactly the way the MouseHouse wanted.  It’s keeping butts in the seats, clocking up solid box office numbers week after week, and it’s far too soon to say whether or not it’ll be as forgettable as The Dark World was.  I suspect it won’t, as its writers coopted some of the bigger elements of Marvel’s epic “Planet Hulk” storyline – now there’s a tale that deserved a big budget telling!

But I digress …
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Yes, Ragnarok is here, and this installment finds the Asgardian God of Thunder (Chris Hemsworth) chasing down a bit of a mystery regarding his absent father.  As one could’ve/should’ve/would’ve predicted, the dreaded Loki (Tom Hiddleston) is yet again behind it all; but before the two of them can fully reconcile they’re torn apart by the sister they never knew they had – Hela (the always interesting Cate Blanchett).  As Fate would have it, she is the true firstborn, and she has her sights set on the throne of Asgard, meaning Thor and Loki will have to go, one way or another.  Thrown out of the space-traveling vortex, both men find themselves in different circumstances on the planet Sakarr, where an unlikely ally emerges in the form of the Incredible Hulk.  Eventually, they’ll team up, but will that be enough to stop Hela?

Rather than run the risk of nitpicking the film to death (as some online critics tend to do these days), I’m content with saying that Ragnarok – much like the other chapters in the ongoing Thor saga – is about as solid a popcorn film as one would expect from Marvel Entertainment.  It’s been put together with about as much love and affection as it could, and all involved (mostly) turn in acceptable work, showing just how comfortable they’ve become in these grand disguises.  The pace is practically nonstop, and – unlike Thors I and II – III has an appreciable amount of comedy added into the tale.  Not all of it works perfectly – the God of Thunder has suddenly become as ‘quippy’ as Deadpool, if I don’t say so myself – but it’s as harmless as can be when you’re pretty much assured everyone is getting out alive come the big finish even though the script occasionally implies they won’t.
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For all of his efforts, however, Mark Ruffalo’s Bruce Banner really seems out of place with the shtick here.  Some of his “disorientation” is owed to a plot point I won’t spoil, but he spends far too much time playing bug-eyed with confusion for my tastes.  Ruffalo has always prided himself as a serious actor – both onscreen and off – and perhaps he’s been worn down by the Marvel concoctions over several appearances.  (I say this as one who like him quite a bit in the first Avengers flick but less so ever since.)  He hits his marks, true, though he never seems all that comfortable with the material.

The balance, nonetheless, is provided by saga newcomer Tessa Thompson, a big debut for Valkyrie, a fallen Asgardian warrioress who must reconcile her past with the present in order to secure her own destiny.  Though her predicament is a bit formulaic, she’s a breath of fresh air against the usual testosterone, and it’d be terrific to see where she can take the part as Marvel expands their titles in the cineplexes throughout its next phase.  Could she get a standalone flick?  Don’t count her out just yet.

Otherwise, Jeff Goldblum shows up playing Jeff Goldblum – has there ever been a greater career theft in the history of film – as an all-too-Goldblumesque kinda/sorta dictator with a taste for violence.

In the final estimation, Ragnarok is good theatrical entertainment, though there’s an increasing reliance on CGI worlds almost to the point of the Star Wars Prequel Trilogy (never a great thing, in my book).  It’s less substance than Thor I but vastly more entertaining than II.  Still, I couldn’t help feeling like this was more ‘Asgardians of the Galaxy’ than was truly necessary.

Growing up in very rural US heartland wherein didn’t have a major TV station in the area, I grew used to adjusting the ‘rabbit ears’ in order to get a handful of small channels from the nearby cities; and on a few occasions, I was fortunate enough to stumble across the various works of the late Gerry Anderson.  When I could, I cherished the adventures of the Thunderbirds.  If the inevitable static and white noise held off, I marveled at Stingray.  When the planets aligned, the adventures of Space:1999 came into view.  For those who are unaware, not all of Anderson’s properties involved marionettes, but most did require a healthy suspension of disbelief in order to be transported from here into a world of action with some of the finest special effects one could expect from the 1960’s and 1970’s.  His ‘Space Precinct’ came much latter for me – a mid-1990’s SciFi entry with live action paired with puppeteers to make for a somewhat zany futuristic look at law enforcement – but I still am discovered it via DVD … and loving most of what I’ve found.

​Friends and family whom I’ve introduced to Gerry’s projects have often been mildly disappointed.  I spoke of these programs with such affection that they perhaps were expecting something more, if not something different.  I think the central disconnect between them and me is that – like I explained – these were largely inspirations from an era wherein effects and storytelling were accomplished with more in-camera trickery than modern sensibilities require; that and the marionettes’ inability to convey much emotion tend to lead ‘older folks’ to discover more unintended laughs than anything else, so I’ve since stopped trying to argue Anderson’s greatness in favor of – ahem – sparing me the embarrassment.

Still, I’m thrilled to sound off on THE LOST WORLDS OF GERRY ANDERSON, a DVD collection of assorted ‘other programs’ that either never found greater exposure or were never quite meant to.  A few of what’s collected here are nothing more than commercials shilling for products (hey, a guy’s gotta eat!), but that’s not to imply they’re subpar in any way.  They’re simply another look at Anderson’s unique storytelling talent, something which I’m happy to celebrate.
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The highpoints?

Arguably, the pilot films for “The Investigator” and “The Day After Tomorrow” are worth the price alone.

“The Investigator” – while a bit nebulous in its logic – explores the world of two teens reduced in size to dolls by a mysterious entity known only by the show’s title; this overlord them provides them with an assortment of high-tech vehicles and gadgetry to help fight crime.  I’ll admit that the concept doesn’t quite work – the marionettes are far too lifeless, capturing in scenes lying around talking about do-gooding more than they are every engaged in it – but there’s still that Anderson spark at work that made so many other puppet shows exciting.

“The Day After Tomorrow” is a family space drama very much in the vein of Irwin Allen’s Lost In Space and Anderson’s own Space:1999: the Bowen family have been sent into the stars to gather the secrets of science for relaying back to Earth but find themselves racing against time to repair their engines before a nearby star goes supernova.  They do, but they find themselves thrust inside the resulting black hole into a whole new galaxy with no hope of return.  It’s a grand set-up – think of Walt Disney’s theatrical The Black Hole but accomplished more of a television scale – but the lack of a series pick-up meant that the continuing trips with the Bowen family were not meant to be.  The great Alan Tate and equally impressive Brian Blessed headline the telefilm, with the late Joanna Dunham along for the ride.  It could’ve been a contender.

Also worthy of a mention is Anderson’s original pilot “Space Police,” an obvious earlier incarnation of what evolved to eventually become the 1990’s Space Precinct.  This version gave Anderson regular Shane Rimmer a chance to play a somewhat emotionally-grizzled cop for an unspecified planetary jurisdiction wherein the baddies concoct a very Thunderbirds-esque scenario to kidnap a galactic President on a high-tech train; naturally, this requires the police concoct an equally elaborate rescue attempt.  It’s all well and good, though the narrative never quite hammers down a singular focus and clearly needed some retooling in order to be usable as a series foundation.  (Interestingly enough, the DVD set includes an alternate version recast with new actors as a second attempt; and the set also includes a wealth of unused footage with alternate takes for those who like to explore such extras.)

As these are ‘lost worlds,’ not each is a glistening gem … but each does remind Anderson fans of what drew us to his unique storytelling in the first place: the inventiveness is present always, and that alone makes it worth the time.

​HIGHLY Recommended for purists of Gerry Anderson’s work as there are some worthwhile moments in here, but only MODESTLY Recommended for casual junkies as there’s probably not enough to make this a dream come true.  I grew up on the stuff of Supermarionation when I could find it (stateside) in TV syndication, and a few of these had some terrific nostalgic quality to them; the stories are what they are – good or bad – with only a few creative sparks in between to make them worth a second watch.

In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MPI Home Video provided me with a DVD of THE LOST WORLDS OF GERRY ANDERSON by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.