Obsessing over Fireball XL5: 1963-1970
'Lieutenant Ninety, have you seen this week's TV Times?'
Amongst my earliest memories is a
recollection of being brought downstairs to see Fireball XL5
on television. It was early in 1963, some time after 7pm, which, at
barely two years of age, was past my bedtime. Nevertheless, I was
brought downstairs just so that I could see Fireball XL5. It
might have been the first episode: a logical assumption, I suppose. I
can imagine my parents watching it and thinking it might appeal to
me, despite it being shown at such an unusually late hour. In fact,
from Fireball XL5 through to Thunderbirds, Gerry
Anderson’s series tended to get their first run in this prime
family viewing slot, courtesy of parent company ATV who had stumped
up the money to pay for the series in the first place, and weren't about to let it get hidden away amongst the likes of Fred Barker and Ollie Beak during children's hour...
I have no idea how much of Fireball
XL5 I was allowed to see on that or any other night during its
first run; it didn’t matter a great deal, for the series would
return for a repeat run the following year at the child-friendly hour
of 5.25. Between then (mid-1964) and the summer of 1966, Fireball
XL5 was rarely off the air, and was soon sharing the schedules
with new arrivals Stingray and Thunderbirds (Supercar,
Gerry Anderson’s earlier effort, had by this time gone missing in
action). By the autumn of 1965, all three series
could be seen in the space of a single week, and while Thunderbirds
had debuted in the 7.00pm slot, three Supermarionation series in the
space of five days’ of children’s programming must have seemed
rather a lot. Not to me, of course. Given the chance, I’d have
cleared the schedules to make room for more. But it had been noticed
by the decision-makers at ITV.
I have it on good authority that ATV
were told in no uncertain terms that the constant, heavy rotation of
the Supermarionation series had to stop. With more in the pipeline,
the schedules were in danger of becoming a live-action free zone, and
ATV were simply enjoying too big a slice of the children’s
programming cake (which was no doubt shaped like Thunderbird 2...)
None of this would matter to me, except that, in a strange way, it
does. I’d grown accustomed to seeing my favourite series on a
regular basis, Fireball XL5 especially; but sometime during 1966, the
endless repeats of Fireball came to an end. I can actually
remember seeing the very last episode, after noticing it listed in
that day’s edition of the Daily Sketch. It might even have
been a one-off. Either way, the episode was Space Magnet:
despite having been the fourth to be filmed, this instalment was
habitually shown last of all, and its tag scene of Steve Zodiac and
Venus gazing up at a full moon probably felt like a nice way to wrap
up the series. The image remained in my mind – it was to be my last
encounter with Fireball XL5 for a surprisingly long time.
The late 1960s became a Fireball-free
zone. Up to now, despite enjoying the series, I probably hadn’t
given it that much thought. It always seemed to be on television, and
I was too young to notice that it was the just same episodes turning
up time and again. I’d been bought some toys and books based on the
series, and the books – a series of four annuals published between
1963 and 1966 – provided a Fireball fix during the brief interludes
when the series not being broadcast. The first of these annuals was already
looking the worse for wear, having lost its covers and a few inner
pages within about a year of its arrival. This would become a key
factor in what happened next...
By 1967 or 68, I was starting to notice
the absence of Fireball XL5 on television, and began turning more
often to the old annuals. I had a dim recollection of the missing
covers for the first edition; then, at a school summer fete, I
chanced upon a copy on the second hand book stall. I’d have had it
like a shot, but our mum didn’t like the idea of bringing second
hand books into the house. I mean, it could have been anywhere, might
be harbouring unthinkable diseases, bookworms, mites. I had to let it
pass: then, within half an hour or so, I saw the same volume being
carried around by another child whose parents were less fussy than
mine.
That did it... something snapped. For
the next three years or more, I would become increasingly fixated on
Fireball XL5. It was my first nostalgia trip, and by no means the last. At the age of six or seven, I could barely remember the
programmes themselves, and no amount of poring over the annuals could
make up for the experience of actually watching an episode: the music, the
voices, the lighting. I later deduced that it was not so much the
programme per se that I had responded to, but its aesthetic: a kind
of noirish, low-lit version of outer space, with visuals steeped in
the look of the 1960s. The space ship itself, though relatively
conventional, always impressed me as a design, and I liked Steve
Zodiac’s uniform so much that I managed to convince my mum to run
me up an outfit using the red material from an old anorak. Penance,
if you will, for what had happened at the school fete. Like the Gerry Anderson equivalent of sewing mailbags...
Quite early on, I’d been sort of
convinced that Fireball XL5 was all going to happen for real.
Of course, I knew it was just puppets, but there seemed no earthly
reason why there shouldn’t be a real Steve Zodiac flying the actual
Fireball XL5 from a real-life Space City. By the year 2062,
anything was possible (I conveniently overlooked the fact that I’d
be 101 years old by that time – anyway, we’d probably all live
forever in the future...) Now, I knew Steve Zodiac was not a
real person, but I was interested to know if there was actually
anybody with the surname Zodiac, which even as a child I found a
little far-fetched. If he was going to exist in the future, his
ancestors would be around today. And, honestly, I looked in the
Birmingham telephone directory under Z. Because Steve Zodiac’s
ancestors must have been Brummies, mustn’t they? There weren’t
many entries... but there was a Zodiac: Zodiac Toys, a listing
for a shop (this was in the days before the Yellow Pages). Now, I
wasn’t daft enough to imagine that Steve Zodiac’s great
grandfather could be running a toy shop, but I’d looked into the
matter and made a minor discovery: there was a Zodiac in the phone
book. But it was probably best not to ring up and ask for a ride in
Fireball XL5...
The mania for Fireball was well set in
by 1970: photographs from that year’s holiday reveal that I had
taken my plastic toy Fireball along with me. But salvation was just
around the corner, for in the autumn came the news I’d been waiting
for. Opening the TV Times for the week of 12-18 September
revealed that Fireball was set to return, the day after the debut of
Gerry Anderson’s latest offering, the new, live-action UFO.
Somebody at ATV probably felt that Anderson’s earlier space effort
might make a good companion piece. Either that, or they were being
sarcastic. It didn’t matter: Fireball was back, along with a
brand-new series to enjoy. I’m not sure if this set a dangerous
precedent for a nine-year-old child: wish hard enough for something
and it will turn up in the end. Either way, it worked. And it
wouldn’t be the last time, either...