2001

23.3

James F. Iaccino

A Content Analysis of Space: 1999’s Two Seasons

From the time of Star Trek’s cancellation (1969) to the premiere of George Lucas’ fantasy, Star Wars (1977), very few science-fiction series populated the small screen.  Some were based on highly successful movies, such as Planet of the Apes (1973) or Logan’s Run (1977), but failed to generate the same audience interest as their big screen counterparts.  The end result was that they were cancelled after only half a season.  Others took the initial Star Trek premise of exploring new worlds and varied the context; either the characters traveled to a different biosphere each week aboard the gigantic habitat of The Starlost (1973) or were transported to a future or past time zone within the Bermuda Triangle on The Fantastic Journey (1977).  But again, these series did not register with the majority of viewers and became little more than cult hits of that period.  Only one show made a memorable entry in the sci-fi, television universe; this was, of course, Space: 1999, and when it premiered in September of 1975, it promised to be the most expensive as well as most exciting interstellar adventure to date.  If longevity is a criterion of a television show’s success, then the unprecedented run of Space: 1999 for two full seasons is a testament to this series’ effective satiating of the sci-fi appetite of its viewers.  That it can still be remembered today (through multiple web sites, international fan conferences, and VHS/DVD episode collections) is further evidence that a space show had broken out of the confines of cult status and became an integral part of mainstream programming.  Thanks to Space: 1999, more contemporary series like Star Trek: The Next Generation and Babylon 5 were able to acquire a stronger foothold in the public consciousness and endured for multiple seasons before completing their story arcs, much to the satisfaction of their devoted followers.

The premise of  Space: 1999 during its first season was totally different from its Star Trek predecessor.  Instead of a United Federation of Planets in which aliens of all races and cultures are accepted as valued members, we have a future in which Earth is still ridden with ecological problems and international power struggles.  The chief concern is that our world is generating too much nuclear waste.  A temporary solution is arrived at by burying the “problem” in disposal areas situated on the dark side of the moon.  However, the sites go critical, blasting the moon and its base of Terran inhabitants out of Earth’s orbit into the farthest regions of space, as we can see in the Year One pilot episode, “Breakaway.”  Because of this unexpected, scientific disaster,  Moonbase Alpha is not physically or psychologically prepared for its long voyage away from home.  And so most of the episodes of Year One revolved around the struggles of an exiled people who barely had enough energy to keep their precious, life support units functioning.  Meeting up with aggressive aliens and oftentimes uncontrollable space phenomena (whether black stars or planetary collisions) only aggravated the tensions of this displaced community who were vainly searching for a new planet to call their own.  As Arielle Emmett remarks, science did not shape the Space: 1999 universe into a perfect society as it had done so with Star Trek; rather, it created more difficult living conditions for the human race of the future (89).

The one bright theme in this series is that a “cosmic consciousness” appears to be overseeing the Alphans’ journey, taking care of its children so that no harm befalls them.  Many of the first season stories centered on this mystical, supernatural force.  In “Black Sun,” a female-voiced entity allows the Alphans to penetrate its mass and come out the other side none the worse for wear.  Likewise, in “Collision Course” Commander John Koenig must convince his crew that colliding into another planet will cause it to move to a higher, more transcendental plane of existence before any permanent damage can occur  to the moon.  Finally, one of the most effective episodes of Space: 1999, entitled “Space Brain,” depicts another, unforeseeable trajectory into a living organism which has been sustaining galaxies of life forms for millennia.  The only way Moonbase Alpha can survive is by the “Brain” sacrificing itself for the good of the few Terrans.

The question, which was continually asked by its viewers (and by others to this day), can be simply put: “Why is it necessary that the Moonbase inhabitants continue their journeys?” The answer can be found in the first season’s concluding episode, “The Testament of Arkadia.”  Here it is finally revealed that all Earth life originated on the planet Arkadia, and that the Alphans have to carry on the Arkadians’ task of seeding new worlds before establishing their own safe haven.  Television series analyst John Kenneth Muir explains in Exploring Space: 1999,

In “Arkadia,” the force [guiding them] is out in the open.  It is actively trying to reverse the downfall of 20^th century man.  It shows the Alphans at last their importance in the scheme of the universe.  Discovering one’s purpose in life is the greatest journey a human being can take, and it is the heart of good science-fiction drama [like Space: 1999]….[Thus, the Alphans’] breakaway is not just a physical separation from Earth, but a spiritual departure from the beliefs, philosophies, and science of the failed technological Earthman.  (82)

One might speculate that the nuclear disaster which sent the moon on its fateful journey is a necessary one if the twenty-first-century human is going to create a better and more religious-based, intergalactic community.  At least that seems to be the underlying message at the close of Space: 1999’s Year One finale.  Put another way, the space-faring moon is the “new life and new civilization” that the original Star Trek crew has devoted its five-year mission to discovering; paradoxically, it is the members of one’s own race and not some alien “other” that carries the seeds of humanity’s tomorrow.

Besides the metaphysical elements of the plots, other salient features of this series’ first season are worth noting.  First of all, the “slick and stylish look” to Space: 1999 results from the expensive budget which was allocated by the British to produce the first season’s package of twenty-four stories—an unheard of $6,500,000, with $275,000 per episode.  In other countries like the United States, this figure would no doubt be a significantly higher one.  One need only recall the ill-fated Battlestar: Galactica (1978), which gobbled up over a million dollars per episode to generate special effects that were used over and over again—even in the same story line.  According to Muir’s Analytical Guide to Television’s Battestar Galactica, Space: 1999 rarely resorted to the “stock footage” expedient; instead, it provided a visually rich and stimulating look at a variety of alien environments, cosmic phenomena, and the inevitable space battles with bizarre life forms (45-46).  Even Star Trek could not match the expense of Space: 1999, until its reincarnation in the movies.  It is surprising that miniatures (and not computer-generated images) comprised most of Space: 1999’s aforementioned effects, which still stand up to this day.  The massive, movie-style scope of the sets within which the humans interacted further served as a complement to the small-scale components, adding a touch of realism and danger to the plots.  And the unisex clothing worn by the Alphans (tan, zippered tops and matching pants) gave that futuristic touch which many series have since followed, including the Star Trek spin-offs.

Secondly, the husband-and-wife team of Martin Landau and Barbara Bain of Mission Impossible fame, along with Barry Morse of the popular Fugitive series, were brought in to attract the international market.  The roles they were assigned to play—Commander John Koenig, chief medical officer Dr. Helena Russell, and Professor Victor Bergman—became as memorable as that space trio of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy.  However, the Space: 1999 stars follow the archetypal blueprint of the Hero, Heroine, and Wise Old Man much more closely than their Star Trek predecessor.  John Koenig/Landau is every bit the Hero that Carol Pearson identifies, fighting the forces of the unknown and coming out the victor week after week (100-02).  At times, the warrior mode is so strong in the Commander that he fires his stun gun at the enemy first before asking the all-important question, “Why are you blasting away at my Moonbase?” However, one cannot really blame Koenig for his actions; they seem somewhat justified in light of the fact that his crew becomes zombified by a machine’s mesmerizing waves in the episode “Guardian of Piri” and suffers heavy casualties at the hands of a compassionless, inscrutable foe in “War Games.”  It is the inner strength as well as strong, personal convictions of this leader that help save the Alphans time and time again.  Without Koenig’s heroic presence, the Moonbase inhabitants would most assuredly have perished shortly after their travels began.

Occasionally Koenig does resort to Kirkian histrionics and even assumes a “raving, madman” attitude as he is the only one among the others who can sense the impending danger.  This is where Bain’s Dr. Russell character is relied upon by the Commander.  She adds a necessary dimension to his personality, in keeping with Robert Hopcke’s view that each gender requires the other to make themselves complete (90-93).  When Koenig is emotional, Russell remains surprisingly calm (“Breakaway,” “Earthbound,” “Collision Course,” and “Testament of Arkadia”); when Koenig wants to charge in with weapons blazing, Russell exerts restraint and voices other options (“End of Eternity,” “War Games,” and “The Last Enemy”); and when Koenig vehemently disagrees with her, she does not hold back her sarcasm towards the superior (“Alpha Child,” “Voyager’s Return,” “Death’s Other Dominion,” “Space Brain,” and “Dragon’s Domain”).  While Barbara Bain has been criticized by some reviewers, including Tim Brooks and Earle Marsh (782) as well as John Javna (76-77), for her lack of emotion and apparent coldness in the series, her Dr. Russell stands out as the definitive, prototypic Heroine.  She is, after all, the first woman in a science-fiction television program to truly attain a commanding presence alongside the men.  It would take twelve more years before other space-age females such as Dr. Beverly Crusher and Deanna Troi would gradually assume the helm of leadership in Star Trek: The Next Generation.  Thanks should definitely be extended to Barbara Bain for blazing the trail with her Amazonian portrayal of Helena Russell.

Our character analysis would not be complete without discussing Morse’s Dr. Bergman.  Victor is the father figure of Moonbase Alpha, the “intellectual scientist” whom the crew respects and consults whenever there is an apparently insurmountable problem to be solved—which is practically in every episode.  Like the Wise Old Man of folktales, Victor Bergman has the sought-after knowledge that the Hero and Heroine need in order to survive.  Of course, the elderly Professor does not have all the answers and poses more questions in the attempt to understand what David Houston labels all those MUFs (Mysterious Unknown Forces) which are constantly assailing the Alphans (32).  Take, for example, “Matter of Life and Death;” in which Victor discovers that Helena’s dead husband Lee has returned in an antimatter form to warn the voyagers not to take up residence on Terra Nova, a planet also composed of the dangerous, opposite substance.  Bergman cannot, however, explain why Helena’s “significant other” has come to them, only that Lee is there at the moment bringing them a message of doom and destruction.  Likewise, in “Force of Life,” a crewmate drains some of the Alphans of their body heat and then absorbs the energy of one of the Moonbase’s nuclear reactors, causing him to metamorphose into an irradiant sphere which speeds off into the furthest regions of space.  Victor can only speculate that they are witness to the creation of a new life form, but again cannot comprehend why the humans have been targeted for this special event.  Other MUFs plague the Alphans throughout their first season; these include a disfigured ghost of an officer who will receive the same facial scars upon his own death (“The Troubled Spirit”) and a strange, other-worldly mist which regresses the crew into a Stone Age tribe (“The Full Circle”).  In each of these encounters, the Professor can advance some scientific theories as to the MUFs’ power and range of influence, but it must be accepted on faith that the MUFs actually exist and that they seek to make Alpha their “first contact.”  While the alien intellectual Mr. Spock might have possessed all the hidden wisdom required to understand the MUFs and extricate the Enterprise from danger, Victor Bergman is still a human with all the limitations of the flesh and the associated Terran technology, including a mechanical heart that periodically malfunctions.  Sadly, Bergman’s heart permanently stops when the sexier, “know-it-all” alien Maya replaces him in Space: 1999’s revamped second season.

All the ingredients appeared to be in place for Space: 1999 to continue its unique travels for many years.  What, therefore, precipitated the downfall of this unique (and highly rated) television show?  A number of factors were responsible for the decline in Space: 1999’s overall production quality.  The chief one was the hiring of American television producer and writer, Fred Freiberger, to replace the vacancy left by executive producer Gerry Anderson’s wife, Sylvia, after the first season.  John Brosnan relates that Freiberger had his own layout for the show that radically differed from the original premise of a moon out of control, yet guided by a supernatural presence (503).  Having been associated with Star Trek’s third season, he wanted to bring more of Gene Roddenberry’s  “Bible” into the Space: 1999 universe.  The result was that Space: 1999 became a copy of Star Trek, with few redeeming features to sustain itself for a third year of adventures.  Let us now examine the Freiberger changes in greater detail.

First, the Alphans had to be a more believable and likable people so that even the“Trekkies” would relate to them.  As Gary Gerani and Paul Schulman report, Freiberger believed that:

[While] the production values are superb. . . . the people are one-dimensional without any clearly defined characters.  They motivate nothing in terms of the action.  They stand around talking instead of “doing.”  The relationships are plastic and meaningless.  And a major fault with the series is its lack of humor. . . One aspect of our new stories is a greater depth in the relationships of the Alphans.  We want audiences to live the situations with the crew and not be passive onlookers. (143)

The interplay of emotions between the two central characters, Koenig and Russell, would become just as central to the Year Two stories as the special effects.  In two opening episodes of that season (“The Exiles” and “Journey to Where”), the Commander would actually bring the level of the relationship with Helena to a new level by kissing her full on the lips.  Other sequences would involve: John openly speaking about his love to crewmates and even aliens (“The Rules of Luton” and “New Adam, New Eve” respectively);  John becoming enraged when he is forced to watch the android Zarl seduce Helena (“One Moment of Humanity”); and both John and Helena attempting to sacrifice themselves for the other (“Brian the Brain”).  Of course, interspersed among these sequences would be playful moments between the two lovers, as when Helena asks John whether he noticed the nude, female aliens in “The AB Chrysalis” and when his old flame Diana literally drags John away from Helena in “The Bringers of Wonder- Parts I & II.”  One cannot deny that Space: 1999 was effectively breaking some of the taboos of television, sci-fi programming—namely, that the leads should never become emotionally involved nor should they express their feelings in front of others.  Not until the final season of Star Trek: The Next Generation in the long-anticipated episode, “Attached,” would Captain Jean Luc Picard admit his love to Dr. Beverly Crusher.  That Landau and Bain were real-life lovers presumably contributed to the believability of their unique, on-screen romance.

The move by Freiberger to add two supporting characters, security chief Tony Verdeschi (Tony Anholt) and Psychon science officer Maya (Catherine Schell), was met with far less enthusiasm and support by the fans.  Gone were Professor Bergman, second-in-command Paul Morrow and computer analyst David Kano—without any explanation for their disappearances.  In their place we have a ruggedly, handsome human male (Tony) and a sophisticated, female alien (Maya) who are attracted to each other, yet never get sexually intimate.  Although the Tony-Maya relationship crossed gender lines, one could not help but make comparisons with the Kirk-Spock duo of Star Trek fame.  In fact, many publications of that period (Science Fiction Aliens 85) regarded Maya as a “Spock rip-off,”  just another token alien with pointed eyebrows instead of ears.  Sad to say,  Maya’s character degenerated with the story lines as the second season progressed, mainly because her distinctive ability to metamorphose into any creature through the power of sheer will was extremely limited and cost-prohibitive.  Actress Catherine Schell discloses in John Kenneth Muir’s Exploring Space: 1999:

I had all kinds of ideas that we never got around to.  My complaints to Fred Freiberger had more to do with the characters that Maya would turn into than the character of Maya herself.  She kept transforming into animals from Earth. [Note that in the Year Two pilot alone, “The Metamorph,” Maya changes into no less than five, fairly common creatures: a lion, pigeon, dog, ape, and falcon.]  Well, Maya was not from Earth, so she should have shape-changed into unfamiliar beasts as well as familiar ones, like lions and monkeys.  If Maya were to turn into a horse, why couldn’t we put a horn on it and make it a unicorn?  (91)

One would think that an infinite range of possibilities would exist for Maya, in keeping with the fluid, shape-shifting nature of the archetypal Trickster discussed in my book More Jungian reflections within the Cinema (169-70).  Only in a few stories would she actually morph into forms designed to mislead space aliens away from her true identity.  For instance, she changes into an owl so that she can perform an adequate scan on the sorcerer Magus in “New Adam, New Eve.”  Or, in “Brian the Brain,” she assumes the shape of the robot Brian’s father-creator in order to cause a malfunction in its circuits after learning it was responsible for the death of that same father.  And when evil extraterrestrials invade Alpha, Maya infiltrates the group as one of their own to discover what they have in store for her human companions (“The Bringers of Wonder Part II”).  However, these moments were few and far between, restricting Maya from tapping into all of her Trickster potential.  (Odo, a similar shape-shifter on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, would experience a comparable weakness.)  Barbara Bain’s Dr. Russell would remain the only consistent Heroine over the course of the program’s two-year run.

Perhaps the most significant alteration in Space: 1999 Year Two has to do with its major shift in philosophy.  Paul Cornell, Martin Day, and Keith Topping indicate that the second season episodes involved “more standard, action-type of adventures” (333).  Upon viewing only eight of the episodes of Space: 1999’s first year, Freiberger himself admits that he became lost in the sometimes confusing, metaphysical themes as well as all those forces out there that remained unknown and a complete mystery to the typical viewer.  Added to that was the “do or die” mentality of the Alphans which cast an even more depressing edge to the overall program.  Thus, Freiberger lightened the tone of the series at the expense of alienating its steadily growing audience both overseas and at home.  And so Space: 1999 would be remembered by some for some really bad episodes, like “The Beta Cloud” and “Space Warp,” that only concentrated on chases and fistfights.

In comparison to the first season’s plots, Space: 1999 Year Two contained very few original and creative ideas.  Apart from the opener, “The Metamorph,” and a handful of other episodes, including “The Exiles,” “The Taybor,” “The AB Chrysalis,” “Mark of Archanon,” and “Dorzak,” most of the stories were reminiscent of its sci-fi predecessor, Star Trek.  This would, ultimately, force Space: 1999 into the route of cancellation as it would be likened to a more expensive “Treks-capade.”  Just how much Space: 1999 would lift from its American cousin is the focus for the remainder of this essay.

It would seem quite natural for Space: 1999 to emulate some of Star Trek’s more classic episodes.  In the unforgettable “The Enemy Within,” Captain James T. Kirk is split into two separate selves when the ship’s transporter malfunctions.  One represents his calm and controlled persona while the other reflects his animalistic, shadow side that wants to survive at any cost.  The “good” Kirk eventually convinces the “bad” double to go back through the transporter together in an effort to reintegrate both sides of the captain’s personality.  This ending so satisfied series star William Shatner that he felt compelled to log it in his Trek Memories (132).  In Space: 1999’s “Seed of Destruction,” another evil doppelganger torments the Commander; only this time it is a mirror-image alien form of Koenig that needs the energy of the Moonbase to bring life back to its dormant race.  While the plots of the two series vary, the one constant is that a duplicate of the leader is running amok and deceiving others into thinking it is the real captain/commander and not a transporter copy or reflected version of the original.  The “evil double” story line is not a new one to the world of science fiction—in Buck Rogers in the 25^th Century’s there are triplicate clones in “Ardala’s Return,” and Data’s twin brother Lore appears in the “Datalore,” “Brothers,” and “Descent- Parts 1 and 2” episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation’s—and so the Space: 1999 scenario of good Commander/bad Commander is clearly redundant (no pun intended).  Star Trek itself would even have Kirk facing his doppelganger two more times in the respective stories “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” and “Whom Gods Destroy.”  Upon viewing “Seed of Destruction,” one can immediately detect just how much Shatner’s prototypic duplicate has rubbed off on Martin Landau’s own opposite, right down to the flamboyant gestures, memorable snarls, and campy overacting.

“The Devil in the Dark,” which William Shatner cites as his all-time, favorite Star Trek episode, (200-02), is followed even more closely by the Space: 1999 remake, “All That Glisters.”  To recap  miners on Janus VI are being killed in “Devil” by a creature that can burrow through solid rock.  Upon mind-melding with the alien, Spock discovers that the monster is really a member of an intelligent species named the Horta; it has attacked the human colony to protect its nest of silicon eggs.  Through Spock’s intervention, an agreement is reached between the Horta and the miners so that the two species can cohabit the planet peacefully.  Space: 1999 also places its “misunderstood” shadow monster on an alien planet.  Similar to the Horta, it resembles an orangish-hued rock that can move about its environment and kill human beings (with blinding light instead of the former’s bone-crushing mass).  Only when science officer Maya transforms herself into a kindred form do the Alphans learn that these living rocks have drained the planet of all its water supply, thereby resulting in their eventual death.  Like her Vulcan predecessor, Maya comes up with a plan to save the rocks—one of the Eagle ships seeds the clouds with nucleotid crystals which re-start the rainfall cycle on the planet.  Once nourished, the rocks repress their killer instincts and let the Alphans go in a gesture of goodwill.  Interestingly, the strange life forms of Star Trek and Space: 1999 act only out of desperation when they are faced with certain extinction.  Fortunately, the “know-it-all” alien resident of each series would be in a position to read the thoughts of these life forms and ultimately prevent further destruction and bloodshed.  At one point in the story Dr. Russell even proclaims that she is “a doctor, not a miracle worker,” which echoes the refrain often spoken by Star Trek’s Dr. McCoy.

The action-packed “Rules of Luton” would further bear a striking resemblance to Star Trek’s “Arena,” right down to the extensive, outdoor sequences on the alien planet where most of the gladiatorial-style games take place.  For encroaching upon their territory, the MUFs force both Commander Koenig and Captain Kirk to do battle with other abducted life forms.  The rules of the game are very specific: whoever (or whatever) wins the fight will be allowed to return to his/its own kind; whoever (or whatever) loses the fight will die at the hands of the victor.  Our courageous heroes not only conquer their opponents, but also spare them, refusing to be pawns of the alien overseers.  Koenig and Kirk are let go in the closing minutes of each episode.  The only variation in the story lines is how the other-worldly judges react to the merciful behavior of the humans.  In the Star Trek universe the Federation is regarded as a possible equal in the not too distant future, while in the Space: 1999 timeline the Alphan community is viewed as a contaminating influence that has introduced feelings of injustice and rebellion into the sentient vegetation on the planet. 

The theme of androids in search of human emotions has been a common staple to many science-fiction series.  Even one of the Star Trek spin-offs, The Next Generation, has a central character, Data, on a quest to attain humanity.  Ultimately, the original Star Trek would lay the blueprint for how most television androids, including the ones on Space: 1999, would reach the human plane of existence.  In a first season episode, “What Are Little Girls Made Of,” the female replicant Andrea decides to kill herself and her creator, Dr. Roger Korby, when she is made aware of her subconscious feelings by the amorous Kirk.  And Susan Gibberman notes that in one of Star Trek’s last adventures, entitled “Requiem for Methuselah,” another female android Rayna short-circuits after falling in love once again with the captain (387-88).  Actually, the tragic fate which befalls Rayna is based, in part, on another Star Trek, “I, Mudd,” in which the Enterprise crew and the infamous Harcourt Fenton Mudd cause a planet-wide, electronic breakdown in the machine servants.  Space: 1999’s “One Moment of Humanity” is almost an exact take-off of these earlier episodes with Dr. Russell now introducing the emotions of love and compassion in the android Zarl.  Not being able to cope with the new programming, Zarl malfunctions.  The “emotion virus” eventually spreads to the other replicants, resulting in their subsequent deactivation.  As John Kenneth Muir critiques in Exploring Space: 1999, the Space: 1999 climax had been done so many times before (and so much better) by the Star Trek team that the “sympathetic android in love” premise would appear downright ludicrous in any contemporary series (107).

Perhaps the most glaring example of plot borrowing is seen in Space: 1999’s ninth episode of Year Two, “New Adam, New Eve,” in which the Alphans encounter the godlike figure of Magus.  One is immediately reminded of the Star Trek script, “Who Mourns for Adonais,” where the Enterprise crew face a similar deity who demands the same type of tribute as Magus.  In her fairly extensive guide to Star Trek, Susan Gibberman lists the following sequence of events to “Adonais:” 1) while approaching Polex 4, the Enterprise is stopped “dead in its tracks” by a giant hand of energy;  2) the owner of the appendage claims to be none other than the Greek god, Apollo, who extends an invitation to Kirk and his crew to join him on the planet;  3) after transporting down, the humans learn that Apollo is actually a powerful alien who wants worship and tribute from his “children” just as in ancient times.  In return he will grant them life in his eternal paradise; 4) naturally, Kirk defies Apollo and suffers the wrath of a god—along with the Enterprise; 5) in time Spock deduces that Apollo has a special organ which collects the energy radiating from his temple and converts it to sheer power; and 6) on his captain’s orders, Spock fires phasers at full strength on that specific piece of architecture.  Eventually, Apollo’s implant is drained of all its energy, and so the weakened alien releases the humans before returning to the heavens where his own kind resides (392).

Mark Phillips and Frank Garcia point out that “New Adam, New Eve” has the exact, same order of events: 1) Moonbase Alpha’s trajectory is interrupted by a strong magnetic field controlled by a mystical figure; 2) the entity reveals itself to be the Alphans’ “Creator,” Magus, who wishes to give them a second chance to live in a beautiful paradise, a new world called “Earth II”; 3) Magus displays his awesome powers by transporting Commander Koenig and his team of officers (Helena, Tony, and Maya) down to the planet’s surface, and once there the alien announces he will selectively pair off his new Adams and Eves for breeding purposes; 4) of course, Koenig opposes the Creator’s plan but soon realizes that he (and his Moonbase) cannot stand up to Magus; 5) by the finale, science officer Maya figures out that the god is nothing more than a cosmic magician who is able to tap into the sun’s energy with a mechanical device buried beneath his skin; and 6) luring Magus into a deep pit, the Alphans cut him off from his power supply and in the confusion they escape, leaving their Creator and his crumbling planet behind (369-70).                                                                 

In addition to the already reviewed episodes, other Space: 1999 story lines transplant key components from their Star Trek predecessor.  The two-parter “The Bringers of Wonder” involves a dying race of aliens that needs the moon’s nuclear wastes to survive; the catch is that by detonating the dumps, the aliens will destroy Moonbase Alpha and a significant portion of the moon itself.  In order to execute their plan, these creatures take on the appearance of friends and relatives of the misplaced Alphans who supposedly have developed Earth vessels that can travel at the speed of light, thus making it possible for Koenig and crew to return home.  Interestingly, the first pilot for Star Trek, titled “The Cage” (which was rejected by the television executives, and was later reformatted into the two-part episode “The Menagerie”), also has a dying group of aliens called the Talosians who survived a nuclear war but were unable to procreate as a result of the ensuing radiation.  One positive side effect of the war is that the Talosians are able to develop incredible mind powers which allow them to create series of illusions for any passing traveler.  They hope that some of the Enterprise members will be able to carry on their traditions by spawning heirs who will either remain on the planet or carry the Talosian seed to new worlds.  While the intent of both alien races is different, the means by which they try to accomplish their goals is similar—namely, to mislead the space crews by giving them desirable images of home and memories of their past.  Furthermore, one of the final stories of Space: 1999’s second season, “The Immunity Syndrome,” actually lifts its title from a Star Trek episode involving a massive space amoeba absorbing galaxies.  Although the Space: 1999 plot of an immortal being destroying others because it cannot communicate with them is a vastly superior one to Star Trek’s “giant monster in outer space,” the title probably infuriated Trekkies who saw Space: 1999 using as many elements of their show as possible in order to capture ratings as well as their audience.

As Space: 1999 ended its second season, Freiberger had high expectations that another year of episodes would go into production as soon as possible.  But “the powers that be” of ITC Entertainment decided that the monies should be invested in feature films and their promotion rather than the continuation of television programs.  While series star Landau and other reviewers, including Lee Goldberg (45) and Mark Phillips and Frank Garcia (366-67),  remarked that it was not popularity or ratings which ultimately killed Space: 1999, there is no doubt that a negative piece of advertising proclaiming Space: 1999 as the “1970s Star Trek rip-off” had something to do with its demise.  Sadly, because Space: 1999 Year Two modeled itself too closely after one of the most influential programs in television history, it was regarded by fans and critics alike as a less significant entry in the sci-fi universe than its preceding (and more original first) season.

Interestingly, the first Star Trek spin-off series (The Next Generation) did lift some of its characters and story lines from Space: 1999.  For instance, Captain Jean Luc Picard is just as introspective and brooding a commander as his predecessor John Koenig; Picard’s second-in-command, William Riker, is secretly in love with the Enterprise’s alien empath, Counselor Deanna Troi, just as Moonbase Alpha’s security officer, Tony Verdeschi, rarely admits his love for another female alien crew member, Maya; major crew members on both shows voice their opinions in the Captain’s Ready Room before a decision is reached by their leader; and many times both captains and doctors (Crusher and Russell) get into major disagreements over such ethical issues as saving just one human life over hundreds.  John Kenneth Muir sums it up well in Exploring Space: 1999 by indicating that “Space: 1999 is surely the bridge between the Star Trek generations” (173).  Without Space: 1999, the Star Trek universe might have folded up entirely after the 1960s series was cancelled.  Space: 1999 kept the dream of space exploration alive and although some of its voyages were reminiscent of the earlier Trek, it introduced some new pieces to the sci-fi pie that have become the standard in contemporary space shows.

James F. Iaccino

Head of Psychology Programs

Benedictine University

Lisle, IL 60532

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