'Direct from TV's (Insert Title Here)'

 

The heyday of the die-cast spin off toy

From James Bond to Basil Brush... the Avengers to the Pink Panther, the phenomenon of the TV/film spin-off provided rich pickings for the makers of die cast model cars during the 1960s and 70s, and an exciting range of superbly designed toys that were appreciated by children and collectors alike. Nothing like them had ever been seen before, or since, with some of the most innovative examples now looking like genuine design classics. Here I take a look back at some of the more interesting examples that came my way during the white heat of what was a technological revolution for toy makers...

As a child, I was regularly bought die-cast model cars, on what seemed like a weekly basis. At this time (the 1960s), Corgi and Dinky were the prime movers in the field, and as the years went by I amassed a large number of their models, alongside others from smaller but equally interesting manufacturers such as Tri-Ang’s Spot-On brand, and Morestone (aka Budgie). The models available were, for the most part, contemporary roadgoing vehicles, and aside from the exotica of American and continental models, and the occasional racing car, there was nothing strange or other worldly on offer, at least not from the ranks of Corgi and Dinky... not yet, at any rate.

Budgie Toys, on the other hand, whose models were often smaller-scaled and less attractively finished than those of their competitors, stole a march on their rivals in 1962 with their die-cast model of Gerry Anderson’s Supercar. This was by no means the company’s first ‘character merchandising’ tie-in: under their earlier brand name, Morestone, a die-cast model of Noddy’s car had been introduced in the mid-1950s, one of the very first examples of such a merchandising spin-off in the model car arena. The Budgie Supercar was, if nothing else, the earliest die-cast model ‘car’ ever produced in tandem with a television series, but neither of these early entries into the field gave any hint of what was to follow.

'The marvel of the age': Budgie's die-cast Supercar toy. In a nod towards future trends, they even managed to get the colour scheme subtly wrong...

Rivalry between Corgi and Dinky had led to a kind of ‘features war’ between the brands, as each tried to outdo the other by adding functionality and play value to various models. Opening doors were probably some of the earliest examples of this quest for greater realism, as were the likes of hinged bonnets (often revealing a detailed engine compartment), or boot lids. One of Corgi’s most popular models of the mid-60s, was its ‘dual control’ driving school car, introduced in June 1964, which offered the unique ability to control the direction of its wheels by means of a stylised roof sign. So far, so sophisticated. Now, the field of die-cast toys was set to be totally transformed by a single model.

In October of 1965, a new Corgi model was brought to my attention, via the medium of television. Both Blue Peter, and its Bristol-based alter ego, Tom-Tom, ran features on a brand new toy car that had just been introduced, in anticipation of the new James Bond film that was scheduled for release the following year. This was, of course, the iconic Aston Martin DB5. It was also, most likely, my first ever encounter with the Bond film franchise, via a clip of the factory car chase sequence from Goldfinger. But for the time being, the films could wait. What I really wanted was that toy car...

The Aston Martin DB5 was a re-tooled version of Corgi’s existing casting for the DB4 (those in the know would have spotted the retention of the earlier model’s rear light array). Unlike Bond’s actual example, Corgi gave theirs a gold paint job – which undoubtedly looked more flashy – but in other respects, the model would have more than satisifed the most stringent inspection from ‘Q’ branch. Many of the Goldfinger gadgets were present, including front-mounted machine guns, which popped out at the flick of a spring-loaded switch, and a rear window shield, similarly activated. But it was the ejector seat, a small work of genius by Corgi’s designers, that really set the model apart. At the flick of a switch, the roof popped open on a hinge and the passenger seat was flung free of the car, disgorging its gun-weilding occupant. In one small respect, the model improved on the original, for the ejection mechanism in Bond’s ‘real life’ car left the vehicle with a gaping hole in the roof where Corgi’s hinged lid could simply be clicked back into place. Now pay attention, 007...

All of these incredible features were duly demonstrated by Blue Peter’s Christopher Trace: and I’m almost certain that the example he showed us on screen also boasted features that were not included in the original production model – the extendable tyre-slashers and rotating number plate would eventually be incorporated into a later version, but my memory is of seeing them demonstrated at the model’s inception in 1965, and later wondering where they were when the vehicle finally found its way into my hands...

‘Special Agent 007’ proclaimed the box artwork, for those who, like myself, had yet to make the aquaintance of Ian Fleming’s timeless Secret Service assassin. The box itself was almost as much of a work of art as the car, and indeed, would set a precedent for later releases of similar TV and film tie-in vehicles. In a development of packaging techniques that had already been trialed on some of Corgi’s more workaday vehicles, the Aston Martin was presented on a cardboard plinth with folding display panel backing and sides. There was even an envelope containing ‘secret instructions’, and a mini-catalogue proclaiming Corgi Toys as ‘model car makers to James Bond.’ In marketing terms, buying into the Bond franchise was a huge coup for Mettoy, owners of the Corgi brand, and the toy went on to sell in vast numbers. I still remember being presented with my own model, on a dark winter evening: our dad had collected it from a toy shop on his way home from work. Everything worked perfectly – unlike some later entries in this newly emerging range of film and TV tie-ins – and the only slight snag was the tendency for the ejected Chinese gunman to disappear under items of furniture...

Corgi's original James Bond Aston Martin... enough bling to satisfy Mr. Goldfinger himself...

This was late 1965, and the Bond car had arrived perfectly timed for the Christmas market. Rival die-cast barons Dinky were clearly taking careful note of these developments, and the following year saw the first of their own entries into the field, with two models derived from Gerry Anderson’s Thunderbirds. Lady Penelope’s FAB 1 was an instant hit, and Thunderbird 2, complete with detachable pod containing Thunderbird 4, would remain in production for over a decade.

Corgi themselves were quick to capitalise on their initial success, and 1966 saw the arrival of several more TV die-casts. The Man from UNCLE’s Oldsmobile, despite never featuring in the TV series, was an immediate hit. Once again, Corgi worked from a pre-existing cast of the Oldsmobile Super-88, customising the model with the addition of a spring-activated periscope which caused gun-wielding figures of Napoleon Solo and Ilya Kuryakin to pop alternately from the front side windows. Another attractive box was offered, with the bonus of a ‘Waverly’ ring, comprising a lenticular image which shifted to show portraits of Solo and Kuryakin. The ring was, if anything, more impressive than the car itself. I had certainly never seen anything like it before (although the lenticular process had been around since the 1920s). Something else I had never seen – at this point in time – was the UNCLE TV series, but that hardly mattered with a toy as cool as this. I must have been given the car as a birthday present in 1966 or 67, and it survives (sans box or ring) to this day...

Corgi had picked their moment well. No sooner was the James Bond car comfortably installed in the catalogue than along came one of TV’s coolest ever vehicles. It was spring of 1966 and the car in question was, of course, the Batmobile. Once again, Corgi rushed to market with a superbly accurate, highly detailed model, managing to get this extremely complex toy into production in time for the all important Christmas market. Debuting in October 1966, the model’s built-in features included a rocket launcher, front-mounted chain slasher, and a plastic tongue of flame that ingenuiously flickered in and out of the exhaust pipe as the vehicle was trundled across the carpet. Another handsome box was produced, incorporating room for a sprue of small plastic missiles, and a Batman sticker, all of which add considerably to the model’s value if still present and correct fifty-three years later...

Suddenly, there was a whole new thing happening in the arena of die-cast toy cars, as the new licensed spin-offs began to outsell more conventional models, which themselves began to adapt in order to keep pace. The late 60s saw Corgi introduce a short-lived range of cars whose wheels could be removed via a set of hinged ‘golden jacks’ on the models’ undersides, and every Christmas saw a rush of innovative new models such as the impressively-appointed Lincoln Continental of 1967, with ‘opening everything’ (doors, bonnet, boot), flock-carpeted interior, and a ‘working’ colour television (a small screen illuminated by a battery displayed a series of small coloured slides).

The marketing departments at Corgi and Dinky must have scoured the film and TV listings for any likely candidate vehicles – and if the castings already existed, so much the better. Both manufacturers had been producing vintage models for a few years (albeit these ultimately held little appeal to collectors), and from the Corgi range, model No. 9, a vintage Le Mans Bentley, provided the source model for an attractive Avengers gift set, marketed from January 1966. Corgi had introduced a ‘normal’ Lotus Elan the previous year, and now, with a white paint job, it did double duty as Mrs. Peel’s personal transport (reflecting the vehicle seen in the black and white Avengers episodes). Plastic models of Steed and Emma added to the realism, and the packaging even found room for three small plastic umbrellas! In fact, the only area in which the Avengers set slipped up was in the matter of Steed’s Bentley – green in reality, red in its die-cast incarnation. Not that many would have realised, since the episodes were still being transmitted, like all other British TV, in black and white. Ironically, the source model from the ‘Corgi Classics’ range had been offered in an accurate green paint job, and was later to form a further TV tie-in as a ‘World of Wooster’ Bentley (the PG Wodehouse novels were then being adapted on BBC1 starring Ian Carmichael as Bertie Wooster). The Avengers Bentley remained resolutely red, but over the years, collectors have succumbed to the temptation to swap it for a ‘correct’ coloured example, often passing it off as a ‘rare’ green Avengers set, when no such model ever saw the light of day...

Meanwhile, over at Dinky headquarters, attentions were focused on the marketing deal the company had struck with Gerry Anderson’s Century 21 merchandising division, a move which would prove highly lucrative for the company over the ensuing years. If Thunderbirds had been ripe for exploitation, Captain Scarlet was even more so, with no fewer than three different road-going vehicles employed by Spectrum’s indestructible agent. One might even speculate that the proliferation of road-based transport might have been at Dinky’s bidding...

Like Corgi, Dinky managed to find ways of exploiting existing models in revamped spin-off editions. Their Mini-Moke model, introduced in the mid-1960s, reappeared in repainted form to do service as a Prisoner spin-off, before being revamped yet again in what must be the most obscure example in the whole TV merchandising die-cast arena: ‘Tiny’s Mini-Moke’ derived from an almost forgotten childrens’ series produced using primitive cardboard cut-out characters. The Enchanted House was seen sporadically across various ITV regions around 1971 before disappearing into oblivion. The Dinky toy, in mint, boxed form, now commands staggeringly high prices.

More familiar to young viewers, but again derived from an existing die-cast model, was Parsley’s car, as seen (briefly) in The Adventures of Parsley, a comic series of 5-minute escapades developed from the Watch With Mother staple The Herbs. The ‘Bullnose’ Morris had been on the Dinky catalogue in various forms for a number of years, including a risible ‘flower power’ version marketed as the personal transport for a made-up pop ensemble, ‘The Dinky Beats.’ It took nothing more than a dayglo green paint job and a plastic Parsley to complete the transformation.

Looking not unlike a green version of Jeremy Clarkson, Parsley takes the wheel of his Bullnose Morris Oxford... that'll be ten shillings in old money to you, squire.

 

Speaking of made-up pop ensembles, over at Corgi, a model of the Monkeemobile was added to the catalogue in December 1968. Regrettably devoid of cool features (unless you counted the plastic Monkees inside it), this was an accurate rendition of the hot-rodded Pontiac GTO seen in the TV series title sequence, but seldom (if ever) featuring in any actual episodes. For once, the Beatles lagged behind the Monkees, at least in the die-cast department. But the Fab Four would have their day in the toyshop spotlight, and in February 1969, the Yellow Submarine model duly appeared – an innovative creation featuring pop-up Beatles and a rotating periscope. Despite the film version being resolutely two-dimensional, the design translated surprisingly well into the die-cast format.

Novelty vehicles such as these now accounted for a substantial part of Corgi’s output, and a good many pages in their yearly catalogue were given over to detailed depictions of the models and their many features. As part of their potential target audience, I can attest to the success of these toys and their associated marketing campaigns. I’d resisted both the Beatles and Monkees models, but was much more receptive to the superbly-modelled Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Corgi’s flagship toy of 1969, released in November ‘68. I’m not sure that I even saw the movie at the time, but Blue Peter more than made up for it with clips from the film and a full demonstration of the toy on air, as good a commercial as ever appeared via the BBC...

Batman had disappeared off the small screen in 1967, but his car remained a top seller. November of the same year saw another superhero vehicle added to the Corgi range, in the form of the Green Hornet’s Black Beauty – a sleek limousine whose boot disgorged spinning projectiles, while the radiator flipped open to fire an orange plastic missile. The fact that The Green Hornet had failed to make the TV schedules in most (if not all) ITV areas did little to dent sales, and the model remained on sale until 1972.

The late 60s also saw further entries in what was rapidly becoming a mini-franchise for James Bond, with a superior Aston Martin model unveiled in February 1968, whilst a Toyota, derived from a single sequence in You Only Live Twice had appeared the preceding year. Of these endeavours, only the Toyota felt like a misfire... Bond wasn’t even the driver, for a start, although he was certainly present, crouching down on the rear seat, gunning for the pursuing Spectre hoods. The casting was, however, a literal misfire, certainly as far as my example went: the boot was supposed to open and launch missiles, which it did at first: but the mechanism soon became locked with the boot half-open. It looked very handsome, but compared to the Aston Martin, it was a bit of a dud.

Similar disappointment was attached to Dinky’s otherwise excellent SPV model, rush-released for the Christmas market in 1967, and one of the year’s must-have die cast toys. The features on offer included a flip-open front hatch from which missiles could be fired. Regrettably, the design of the hatch was not as sound as it might have been, and by Boxing Day, it had already displayed a tendency to disengage itself from its spring-loaded mechanism. The fix involved opening the model’s base with a screwdriver – the very fact that screws were used in place of welding spots suggesting that Dinky’s designers knew the model would need to be user-serviceable...

As the 60s yielded place to the 1970s, the market for ‘character’ die-cast toys showed no signs of abating. Previous models had tended to reflect the content of the films or television productions from which they derived, but now the makers began to strike out on their own with some often ambitious designs that were wholly original. Foremost of these was Popeye’s ‘paddle wagon’ which appeared in the early 70s. Popeye was seldom seen on TV at the time, but the character had long since transcended his comic strip and film origins. The ‘paddle wagon’ featured just about every recognisable character from the comic strip in a vehicle that looked like the aftermath of a collision between Noddy’s car and a Mississippi riverboat.

I was never convinced by the paddle wagon, and passed on it at the time. Likewise, a range of Magic Roundabout vehicles from Corgi felt a little too juvenile for me by the time they appeared (1971). I made an exception for Basil Brush, whose 1910 Renault (revamped from an earlier ‘Corgi Classic’) was released for the Christmas market the same year. By this time, Dinky were setting the pace with their Gerry Anderson vehicles, with the UFO Interceptor appearing in disappointing metallic green the same year, alongside an ‘Ed Straker’s Car’ which incorporated a keyless clockwork motor that harked back to the old ‘mechanical’ Corgi toys of the 1950s, and a military green version of the SHADO Mobile. 1972 also saw the appearance of a Pink Panther car, based on the Panthermobile seen in the TV series opening titles. I was somewhat disappointed when this turned out to be a plastic model, where a diecast would have felt more solid and engineered. But the tide was beginning to turn...

Corgi’s fortunes seem to have gone into a decline sometime in the mid-70s, with a noticeable drop in the quality of their models, accompanied by the decision to source certain vehicles from Hong Kong. When a Dick Dastardly car appeared in 1973, it bore no resemblance to the ‘Double Zero’ as seen on screen, and was nothing more than a Dastardly and Muttley-equipped model derived from a cheap and nasty range called ‘Qualitoys’. To the potential consternation of buyers, Dastardly was depicted in his flying gear as opposed to the Wacky Races ensemble. Film and TV tie-ins continued through the decade, but these increasingly began to take the form of panel vans with decals bearing the logo of the relevant film or TV character and no actual relationship to anything seen in the original series. Around this time, and fully aware of what was happening in the toy market, I produced a humorous drawing of ‘Alec Freeman’s Musical Mini-bus’, an imaginary die-cast toy ‘direct from Gerry Anderson’s UFO’ which satirised the whole risible trend. 

'Muttley! Do something!' DD's Corgi car is, frankly, never going to win the Wacky Races or stop the pigeon...

Dinky fared somewhat better, but by the mid-70s the best models in their catalogue were the left-overs from the innovative years of the mid-60s and early 70s, now repackaged in the transparent window-type boxes that had become an industry standard from the late 60s onwards. But by the late 70s, the toy market had swung away from model vehicles towards electronic, gaming-based toys that seem, in retrospect, like a foretaste of what was to come. There can be little doubt that the spike in sales of film and TV-derived die cast models kept both Corgi and Dinky afloat for longer than might otherwise have been the case, and as Corgi’s sales continued to flag, a sudden surge in licensed character models in 1979 smacked of desperation to revive a doomed brand.

But one question remains to be answered: where did it all get started? We’ve seen how Morestone/Budgie were an innovator with their Noddy and Supercar models, but these were not necessarily the first examples of this intriguing sub-genre. For that, we must look to Lone Star toys, whose ‘Road Master’ series models debuted in the early 50s, and featured – ill-advisedly – a range of vintage and veteran cars alongside contemporary models. These models, combining die cast bodies and plastic detailing, included what I believe to be the very first example of a model car sold off the back of a ‘parent’ film – namely, 1953’s Genevieve. A ‘Road Masters’ brand model was sold in an attractive display style box (anticipating Corgi by a decade) from around 1954, and as can be seen from the example in the photo, the packaging pulled no punches in establishing the connection with the source movie. It even boasted a plastic John Gregson...

The model that started a trend... Lone Star's 1954 Genevieve model

The whole arena of the die-cast film/TV tie-in probably enjoyed ten good years, spanning a time when I was precisely the right age to participate in all of that missile-firing-pop-up-goodies excitement, and to appreciate those toys for the miniature works of genius that they were. By the same token, the TV series and films that had proved the impetus for these model marvels were becoming thinner on the ground as we neared the 1980s. And were the films and TV series even as good or as imaginative as they’d been a decade ago? Of course not.