As part of the research for my all-new exciting and vital project (a radio series, no less!), I’ve been watching loads of schlocky sci-fi B movies and film serials dating from the Thirties to the mid-Fifties.
Whilst I still couldn’t exactly describe myself as an aficionado of the genre, or at least not yet, I’m starting to get to know my way around the subject now and don’t mind admitting to a sneaking admiration for some of what I’ve seen.
Prime amongst the gleaming gems posted on YouTube is the great, the one and only Radar Men From The Moon. This 12 part film serial from 1952 forms the second in a somewhat informal Republic ‘trilogy’. Part 1 was of course the classic King Of The Rocket Men and part 3 Zombies Of The Stratosphere (not nearly as interesting as its title would tend to suggest, sadly). The central character Commando Cody then went on to appear in his very own series on American television. If you’re thinking all this sounds a tad familiar, then you’re right. These series inspired the recent retro-smash movie The Rocketeer.
The basic premise behind Radar Men From The Moon is that perennial favourite of tried, tested and tired sci-fi tropes, the alien invasion. Retik their leader claims that the moon-people must invade the Earth because the air is running out on the moon. Yet up there they still manage to have a light-coloured sky with clouds in it that looks bang on identical to that of Earth. That’s mainly because all the outdoor sequences were filmed out in the wilds of California. Of course, the moon’s gravity is just the same as ours as well. You won’t see any Earth astronauts or Moonmen bouncing slowly about in 1/6th our gravity like the Apollo missions did just 17 years later.
This cannot be due to scientific ignorance of the real conditions on the moon. Back in the Thirties, airmen visiting Earth’s fictional Second Satellite found its gravity to be far less than that of our own planet. They bounded along the surface in slow motion, just like Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin. The difference is that it is much easier, not to mention cheaper, to achieve special effects like these on the printed page than the screen.
And here we come to the crux of the matter. Despite being some of the most popular products of the film studios, the serials usually had the least money lavished on them. Saving cash was the order of the day, which inevitably led to a lot of recycling.
Take the spectacular footage of Commando Cody flying through the air. Okay, so production company Republic was quite justly renowned for its special effects – but the fact remains that this is basically the same launch, flight and descent in all 12 episodes. According to Wikipedia, his flying suit originally appeared in King Of The Rocket Men, along with the actor who plays Retik the king of the moon-people.
Even by the standards of the Fifties, the flying suit most definitely does not represent state-of-the-art technology. It looks like it was thrown together on the spur of the moment with the dregs of the production funds (after they’d bought the tea and biscuits). Commando Cody wears a boiler suit just like your ordinary everyday motor mechanic or gas station service man would, plus the back-mounted oxygen tanks of a scuba-diver, surmounted by a coal-skuttle helmet with eyes and mouth hacked out just like Ned Kelly in the outback. Underneath he retains the neat suit and tie of his business-man-inventor alter-ego – which never seem to get in the least bit crumpled or dirty, no matter what his daredevil stunts and general derring-do.
Despite the probable extreme speed and force of his jet-propelled rocket-pack, Commando Cody still travels slowly enough to have enough time to fumble around in his jacket pocket for a bog-standard pistol, retrieve it, aim it and fire it at his target, instead of missing because he’s already shot ahead of it by about 500 miles. If you don’t believe me, have a look at the footage of real jet-pack tests on YouTube. (And while we’re on the subject, whatever happened to all those nuclear-powered personal jet-packs and silver-foil covered hovercraft we were assured we’d all be zooming about in come the 21st century? We was robbed!)
The rest of the wardrobe is just as basic. Moonmen Retik, Krog and co sport your typical Emperor Ming from Mongo style flowing satin tabards, exquisitely set off by balaclavas. Whoever decided that this is how all extra-terrestrial people dress? Probably these particular outfits were recycled from another sci-fi series or film like Flash Gordon, that’s why. To save even more money, all the characters wear the same set of clothes throughout the entire series. This leads to the most ridiculous plotholes. Even though Krog the Moonman henchman is working undercover on the Earth, he doesn’t think to disguise himself as one of us. (And he appears to be based in Batman’s bat-cave, to judge by the background furnishings of his lair!)
My research so far suggests that actors were also recycled between series and even within the same ones. Because the bloke who plays Retik was mainly known for westerns, the wardrobe department had to bung him in very obvious spaceman gear to show that this time he is not playing a cowboy. And when the same set of extras portray Earthmen in one scene and Moonmen in the next, you need to be able to tell the difference, hence the use of white hats for the heroes and black ones for the villains in westerns.
The script also has to do its bit to cut the costs. Because Republic couldn’t afford to do much scene-setting, there is very little in the way of motivation and backstory. So we have next to no idea why it is so important to Commando Cody to stop the moon-people from invading Earth or save his glamorous secretary from their evil kidnap and ransom scheme. We hear precisely nothing about any character’s inner life or their earlier experiences.
If the main purpose of a film serial is to provide thrills and spills aplenty in a short space of time before the main feature, then obviously you don’t want to waste any valuable time on boring talky bits that lose the attention of the audience and get them trotting off for hot dogs with mustard on or a quick whazz. You’d cut to the chase as quickly as possible. This is handy because all the film studios kept extensive libraries of stock footage which they would encourage both scriptwriters and directors to plunder with impunity to provide many of the special effects.
However, none of the characters ever get established as real people. The result is there is next to nothing with which the writers can raise the stakes or build tension. For example, Commando Cody doesn’t seem to be in love with his secretary or she with him, which makes it rather difficult to give a stuff about his need to rescue her when she gets kidnapped by the moon-people.
Nor do you see the moon-people suffering the dire effects of the lack of atmosphere that forces them into drastic action against us here on Earth. No-one on the Moon dies from lack of oxygen and no crops are lost. Presumably it would cost time and money the production company hadn’t got to include sequences like this, though the writers could easily have provided them. As a result, the viewer fails to develop any sympathy for the terrible dilemma faced by the Moonmen, so assumes they must be ‘bad’, rather than desperate. Naturally the Moon-people only have one name each. There is no mention of family or clan names or nicknames or anything like this. Therefore, they don’t have any social structure or history to encourage you to take an interest in them or develop a liking for them.
In order not to hold up the action a second longer than necessary, explanatory dialogue is cut to the absolute minimum. Instead they like to chuck in a bloody good fight or action sequence every two minutes.
For a supposed interplanetary invasion planned by a race technologically superior to our own, the Moonmen are surprisingly incompetent. Retik has sent out a grand total of one agent and one ray gun to just a single place of strategic importance in the United States. Okay, so we know the production company can only afford very few actors and props – but you would still imagine that the script could get around this difficulty somehow. Why not have it at least mention other agents and weapons in other nations round the globe? Surely that wouldn’t deprive the action sequences too much?
The invasion seems to be very badly funded too. Although Krog the moon-agent is running out of money, he feels he cannot ask Retik for more, forcing his two Earthling heavies to resort to nefarious capers like payroll heists and kidnap schemes to raise some more. You’d think working out the likely financial costs of all their evil plotting would be a central part of the research and preparation for such an ambitious plan as invading another planet.
Maybe the Moonmen are out of pocket generally, following the environmental catastrophe suffered by their world. The moon-city where Retik lives is depicted by an extremely obvious static cardboard diorama. For no apparent reason, the predominant style of architecture is Graeco-Roman, which means the director might well have just borrowed an obscure historical diorama at his local museum to save yet more time and money. Once the rockets have actually landed on the surface of the moon, there is no trace to be seen of any of the other buildings and structures in the city. Because the outskirts of the moon-city look just the same as the countryside in California on Earth, it can be very difficult to tell sometimes where you are meant to be and when.
The moon itself is represented by a painting that, while extremely beautiful, makes no pretence whatever at looking at all ‘real’.
Part 9 has the barefaced cheek to basically reprise the entire plot so far for the benefit of a character who didn’t get to learn it earlier in the series. This tends to suggest funding was running pretty low by this point in the production process, so they couldn’t afford to commission a proper script or pay the actors and production crew for doing something new in this part. Apparently this was standard procedure on a film serial.
