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(1934– ). American writer.
Wrote as Cordwainer Bird: "The Price of Doom" (1964),
episode of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea; "You Can't Get There from
Here" (1968), episode of The Flying Nun; "Voyage of Discovery" (1973),
episode of The Starlost (also created series).
Also: story editor (with D. C. FONTANA), The Sixth
Sense (tv series) (1971-72); creative consultant, Twilight
Zone (tv series) (1985-86); conceptual consultant, Babylon
5 (tv series) (1993-98); conceptual consultant for four
Babylon 5 television movies: In the Beginning
(Michael Vejar 1998), Thirdspace (Jesus Salvador Trevino
1998), The River of Souls (Janet Greek 1998), and A
Call to Arms (Vejar 1999).
Films based on his work in addition to "Soldier" and
"Paladin of the Lost Hour": A Boy and His Dog (L. Q. Jones 1975); "Djinn,
No Chaser" (1984), episode of Tales from the Darkside; "Shatterday,"
"One Life, Furnished in Early Poverty" (1985), episodes of Twilight Zone;
"The Human Operators" (based on story by Ellison and A. E. van Vogt) (1999),
episode of The Outer Limits.
Acknowledged as films based on his work after legal
action: Future Cop (based on story by Ellison and Ben Bova) (tv movie)
(Jud Taylor 1976); Future Cop (tv series) (1976-77); The Terminator
(based on "Soldier") (James CAMERON 1984).
Appeared in: "The Observer Effect" (1994), episode of The
Psi Factor: Chronicles of the Paranormal; "The Face of the Enemy" (1997),
episode of Babylon 5.
Provided voice for: episode of Mother Goose and
Grimm (animated tv series) (1991-92); "A Boy and His Cat" (1994), episode
of Phantom 2040 (animated tv series); opening narration of Space
Cases (tv series) (1966-97) (and wrote narration); "Ceremonies of Light and
Dark" (1996), "Day of the Dead" (1998), episodes of Babylon 5.
In a previous
survey of Ellison's contributions to science fiction television and film, I
sought to make two points, which I will restate in the most inoffensive manner
I can devise. First, due to his visual imagination, narrative energy, and
distinctive prose style, Ellison easily qualifies as one of the most gifted
screenwriters who ever wrote scripts for science fiction projects. Second, and
unfortunately, Ellison never possessed the temperament that would have enabled
him to make film work his primary vocation.
I will readily
concede the essence of Ellison's complaints about the film and television
industry—that it is filled with studio executives, producers, directors, and
actors who are talentless and unscrupulous, ready, willing, and able to
transform even the finest script into a celluloid Auschwitz. While reading one
of his innumerable tales of woe, I can almost embrace his standard version of
events: that he was a perfectly calm, reasonable craftsman who was virtually
driven to blind fury by intolerable acts of stupidity and deceit.
And yet—other film and television writers, somehow, manage to put up with it. Unlike
Ellison, they bite their tongues, issue no complaints while observing the
latest humiliation with their name on it, and make quiet resolutions about how
to avoid another such atrocity: I will never work with that person again, or, I
will never get into that sort of contractual arrangement again. They persevere,
they keep on writing as much as they can and as well as they can, and they
gradually build up the credits, money, and connections that enable them to have
some control over what happens to their scripts. It doesn't always happen, but
it does happen, and it appears to be the only way that a writer can achieve a
satisfying career in the industry. And it's a game that Ellison simply can't
play.
Ellison's career started so promisingly. After a modicum of success as a short
story writer, he moved to Hollywood and broke into television writing
episodes for series like Ripcord and Burke's Law. He
then wrote scripts for the two best science fiction series of the
1960s, and he wrote their very best episodes: "Demon with a Glass
Hand" for The Outer Limits, and "The City on the Edge of Forever"
for Star Trek. Both dramas impressively portray intelligent science-fictional
ideas in the context of persuasive personal relationships, and both
seem as fresh and involving today as they did in the 1960s. Also worth
noting from this period were another episode of The Outer Limits,
"Soldier," and two enjoyable episodes of The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Yet there were early signs that Ellison wasn't going to last too long
in this business: somehow roped into writing episodes of Voyage
to the Bottom of the Sea and The Flying Nun, he was so
displeased with the outcomes that he insisted upon employing a farcical
pseudonym chosen to insult producers, Cordwainer Bird; by one account,
he was also so inexplicably displeased with the outcome of "The City
on the Edge of Forever" that he again demanded use of the Bird pseudonym,
but was wisely ignored by producer Gene RODDENBERRY.
From then on,
a pattern emerges: Ellison angrily announces that he is through with the
business; he is lured back to write a script with guarantees of complete
artistic freedom and an ironclad commitment to realize his vision on film; something
appalling happens anyway, and he storms away, angrily announcing that he is
through with the business .... In some cases, we know all the details, since
Ellison has written at length about how he was approached to create a science
fiction series, The Starlost, by producers who proceeded to break all
their promises and horribly mangle his evocative script for the pilot episode;
in his book The Other Glass Teat, he recounts at length how his script
for the series The Young Lawyers was shamefully trashed by its cast and
director; and we have also heard how he abruptly quit his job as "creative
consultant" for the revived Twilight Zone when CBS refused to approve a
less-than-heartwarming Christmas episode. I'm sure that somewhere there are
also recorded interesting stories about how he was briefly suckered into
working for series like The Sixth Sense and Logan's Run. Ellison
further contrived to expand his filmography—displaying admirable
integrity—by successfully suing the producers of the television movie and series Future
Cop and the film The Terminator for plagiarizing his stories, while
also working on any number of abortive film projects, including the fabled Harlan
Ellison's Movie and an adaptation of Isaac ASIMOV's I, Robot which
eventually appeared in book form. All in all, Ellison was generating enough
entertaining anecdotes about the cruel, crazy film industry to keep an audience
rolling in the aisles for hours, but he was otherwise managing to contribute
remarkably little to science fiction television and film. (However, it should
be noted, I provide his credits with no confidence that they are complete or
completely accurate; like all aspects of his volcanically productive career, a
complete and completely accurate filmography of Ellison's work is difficult to
achieve.)
By the 1990s, Ellison had bizarrely mutated into a sort of latter-day Forrest
J. ACKERMAN, a beloved colleague who was
often hanging out on the set and was sometimes coaxed into some sort
of minor contribution to the proceedings. Thus, Ellison remained in
the peripheral role of "conceptual consultant" for the entire run
of J. Michael STRACZYNSKI's series Babylon 5, and he made cameo
appearances and provided voices for several forgettable television
projects like The Psi Factor, Phantom 2040, and Space
Cases. Yet a filmography that increasingly resembles Ackerman's
hardly constitutes a significant achievement.
Still, no
matter what Ellison may believe while he is screaming at me over the phone, I
primarily seek to praise the man, not to criticize him, and what he has done
away from the film industry is praiseworthy indeed. Damn, the man can write.
Working brilliantly and with ferocious power, he has produced, among other
things, several of the greatest short stories in the history of science fiction
and a series of sparkling and insightful commentaries on television and film,
many available in his collections The Glass Teat, The Other Glass
Teat, and Harlan Ellison's Watching. He has accomplished so much
that it seems almost churlish to ask for more; however, using the mildest
possible terms, I do wish that circumstances had permitted Ellison to write
more often in the fields of science fiction television and film.
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