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British tv and film producers.
Live-action tv
series created and produced by Gerry A.: UFO (co-created with Sylvia A.
and Hill) (tv series) (1970-73); Space 1999 (co-created and co-produced
with Sylvia A.) (tv series) (1975-77); The Day after Tomorrow (tv series
pilot) (1976); Space Precinct (tv series) (1994-95).
Written by
Gerry and Sylvia A.: "Flight of Fancy," "The Lost City," "Supercar Take One,"
"Crash Landing" (1961), "The Runaway Train," "Precious Cargo," "Operation
Superstork," "Hi-Jack," "Calling Charlie Queen," "Space for Mitch," "Atomic
Witch Hunt," "70-B-Low," "The Sky's the Limit," "Jail Break," "The Day That
Time Stood Still," "Transatlantic Cable," "King Kool" (1962), episodes of Supercar;
"Planet 46" (1962), "Space Monster" (1963), episodes of Fireball XL-5;
"Stingray" (1964), "A Nut for Marineville," "Aquanaut of the Year" (1965),
episodes of Stingray; "Trapped in the Sky" (1965), episode of Thunderbirds;
Thunderbirds Are Go (and produced by Sylvia A.) (animated film) (1966);
"The Mysterons" (1967), episode of Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons;
"The Most Special Agent" (1968), episode of Joe 90; Thunderbird Six
[Revenge of the Mysterons from Mars] (and produced by Sylvia A.)
(animated film) (Brian Burgess, Robert Lynn, and Ken Turner) 1968); Journey
to the Far Side of the Sun [Doppelganger] (co-written with Donald
James and produced by Gerry and Sylvia A.) (Robert Parrish 1969); "A Case for
the Bishop" (1969), episode of The Secret Service; "Identified" (with
Tony Barwick) (and directed by Gerry A.) (1970), episode of UFO.
Written by
Gerry A.: "Operation McClaine" (with David Lane) (1968), episode of Joe 90;
Space Police (co-written with Tony Barwick; also provided music with
Christopher Burr) (tv pilot) (1987).
Directed by
Gerry A.: "Planet 46" (1962), episode of Fireball XL-5.
Voices by
Sylvia A.: Fireball XL-5 (1962-63); "Raptures of the Deep" (1964),
episode of Stingray; Thunderbirds (1965-66); Captain Scarlet
and the Mysterons (1967-68); Joe 90 (1968-69); The Secret Service
(1969).
If the nations of the world ever decide to stage Nurenberg
Trials to punish the makers of bad science fiction film, Gerry Anderson
will be the first defendant. Measured by the total length of terrible
footage produced, he is surely the worst offender, far outstripping unworthy
competitors like Irwin ALLEN, Larry BUCHANAN,
or Glen A. LARSON.
As the first exhibits for the prosecution, there are
his many science fiction puppet series—The Adventures of Twizzle,
Torchy the Battery Boy, Supercar, Fireball X-5, Stingray,
Thunderbirds, Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons, Joe
90, and Terrahawks—and at least two puppet features, Thunderbirds
Are Go and Thunderbird Six. These are noteworthy only as cautionary
examples of the need to properly match genre with subject matter. Stop-motion
animation is a valid and potentially lively art form, as demonstrated
by many examples ranging from George PAL's Puppetoons
to Tim Burton's The Nightmare before Christmas; but using the technique
to enact stories that could have been done just as well (if not as cheaply)
with live actors provides the worst of both worlds: the animation must
stay within the boundaries of pseudo-realism and hence quickly becomes
uninteresting, and the literally wooden performances of the puppets deprive
the story of any emotional impact. Why these programs were so popular
for so long must remain a mystery, at least to non-British audiences.
Next, the prosecution presents his work with live actors:
the film Journey to the Far Side of the Sun, which expends considerable
effort in order to take viewers to the more boring and unimaginative alien
world imaginable—an exact duplicate of our Earth. There is also, unforgettably,
the execrable Space: 1999, with the Moon ludicrously drifting through
space at non-relativistic speeds yet somehow managing to reach a different
star system every week—a concept so insulting to the intelligence of
viewers as to defy comment, and a flawed scenario unredeemed by its consistently
idiotic scripts and inadequate, uninvolving cast. And we cannot omit his
most recent crime against humanity, the aforementioned Space Precinct.
As a possible defense exhibit, one might show the first few episodes of
his other series, UFO, since it briefly seemed promising, with
its better-than-average acting and intriguing mystery of space visitors
periodically buzzing around Earth; but the prosecution could respond by
showing the rest of the episodes, when the aliens were revealed to be
People Who Look and Act Just Like Us and the show slowed down to stupefied
inertia as it became apparent that the aliens were not going to do anything
other than engage in plots to kill the show's hero, Stryker. To focus
solely on these series' visual appeal is a last, desperate defense, since
one can derive all possible pleasure from the costumes and sets from watching
ten minutes of a single episode. The verdict must be: guilty as charged.
In light of his many crimes, it is dumbfounding to hear
that Gerry Anderson was celebrated in the 1990s as the guest of honor
at a British science fiction convention, when the fans should have been
burning him in effigy; and it was positively dumbfounding to discover
several websites paying loving tribute to the man as I sought new data
to more accurately document his misdeeds. One fears that the issue of
Anderson's value has become mixed up with feelings of patriotism and a
natural pride in all things British. Well. Perhaps Anderson has provided
wholesome entertainment for young children, perhaps he has given jobs
to some fine workers, and perhaps he has, by exporting his programs, helped
to improve the balance of payments and all that. But rallying around this
odious man only does a grave disservice to the many science fiction products
that Britain can justly be proud of, including The Prisoner—still
the best science fiction series ever produced—the Quatermass serials,
The Avengers, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and
several other programs unseen in America that I am sure, based on critical
descriptions, are far better than anything Anderson ever produced. Let
us face the unvarnished truth: Gerry Anderson is a man who has no ideas,
who is deathly afraid of ideas, who has consistently employed futuristic
settings and special effects only as gaudy ornaments to the hoariest,
most imbecilic, and most cliché-ridden stories imaginable. Not really
a producer of science fiction films, he is actually a vicious enemy of
science fiction, and he should be recognized and condemned as such.
Note: from Supercar on through to Space: 1999,
Gerry Anderson's then-wife Sylvia was regularly credited as a co-producer,
writer of episodes, fashion coordinator, and puppet voice; but since she
has done little work on her own after their divorce (except for her unverified
participation in the horrendous Star Maidens series), and since
Anderson has soldiered on with the same ineffectiveness as before, it
is reasonable to assume that her creative contributions to his enterprises
were inconsequential. At the trial, her defense would probably be, "But
I was only following orders." |
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