Reaching the Outer Limits

 

Part Two: We Are Controlling Transmission

My 1980 diary maps out my journey with The Outer Limits as I sat up until ungodly hours on those late Friday nights while BBC2 provided the series' first (and only) nationally networked UK broadcast. VHS would have helped, but I had yet to get my hands on a machine. For the first week’s outing, Harlan Ellison’s Demon With a Glass Hand, I even wrote up a complete plot summary – understandable in the absence of an episode guide. Week two brought Keeper of the Purple Twilight (series 2, episode 12), before flipping back to series one for the decidedly iffy Moonstone. Whoever was doing the scheduling was clearly a Harlan Ellison fan, as the fourth episode shown was his series 2 opener Soldier. Much later, this story became the focus for controversy when Ellison issued a writ against the producers of The Terminator, alleging that they’d plagiarised his ideas. (In fact, The Terminator was a lot closer in concept to the series one episode The Man Who Was Never Born, which sees a man from the future return to the twentieth century to prevent the birth of a scientist whose invention has decimated civilization.)

Fifth in the BBC run was The Premonition which my diary described as ‘a good story’. It was followed by The Hundred Days of the Dragon, a political story where the ‘monster’ element is a face-reshaping technology. So far, I’d not missed an episode, but following the below-par The Invisibles, I skipped Counterweight. Just as well, as this one really belongs at the bottom of the Outer Limits barrel: boring story, dull production design, and unimaginatively lit.

After no more than half a dozen episodes, I was already becoming aware of the big problem with The Outer Limits – inconsistency. Some of the episodes were enhanced by low key, noirish lighting, whereas others had the flat, drab lighting of a hundred other journeyman television productions. The scripts too were a decidedly mixed bag, with some coming from noted SF authors, whilst others were supplied by Joseph (Psycho) Stefano, series creator Leslie Stephens and a variety of TV scriptwriters, not all of whom rose to the occasion. The ‘bears’ were either creepy or laughable, and sometimes managed to be both. What was it Jeff Rovin had said in A Pictorial History of Science Fiction Films? 'One is hard pressed to recall a bad episode'. I was beginning to have my doubts...

My hiatus lasted only one week, and the next episode I saw was the superior Man With the Power, a monster-free episode that saw Donald Pleasance as a mild-mannered university professor, with a brain implant that channelled his inner violent urges. This was followed by The Sixth Finger, an episode I’d been waiting for on account of a solitary photo of David McCallum in his makeup. Oddly, it turned out to be set in Wales, where everyone who works in the mines goes around with a permanently blackened face. Whilst the idea of a super-evolved human was intriguing, the story suffered from a lack of depth or development, although McCallum’s make-up changes were reasonably well realised.

By this time, the series had been on air a couple of months, with the broadcast times getting later and later every week: midnight for The Sixth Finger and Galaxy Being, 00:20 for The Man Who Was Never Born, 00:30 for I, Robot. Simply staying awake through the episodes was becoming a challenge, and when the scripts fell below par, I began to wonder if it was worth making the effort. My patience came to an end with It Crawled Out of the Woodwork, an episode I’d been anticipating after seeing a write-up in another SF book: but my diary entry reads: ‘very bad episode, probably the worst yet’. There were only three weeks remaining of this opening run, bringing us the episodes O.B.I.T.,The Human Factor and finally, on 19 July, Nightmare. ‘Last crappy Outer Limits’ says my diary.

The series was off air for barely a month, before returning on Friday 15 August at the earlier time of 11.30pm. Tonight’s episode was The Zanti Misfits, which I knew was going to be somewhat ludicrous, having seen a picture of the eponymous creatures in a sci-fi book. The earlier timeslot meant I only got to see the last few minutes after getting home from the pub. It didn’t matter, as my friend Tim Beddows had taped the episode – but it was a very long time before I got around to watching that VHS. I now began missing the series more often than I saw it, but I was rewarded with a ‘classic’ episode (according to my diary), in the form of the comedic Controlled Experiment (30 August, 12.00am). On the whole, though, I felt I’d seen enough of the series by now.

On Friday 19 September, I got home in time to see the fag end of Z-Z-Z-Z which was as ludicrous as its title suggests: a queen bee who assumes human form. Oddly enough, no episode had been scheduled that evening, to make way for International Darts coverage. The match must have ended earlier than anticipated, hence this unscheduled broadcast. Episodes continued until 13 December, but no more entries appear in my diary. By November, I finally had a VHS machine, and could have recorded episodes had I felt inclined. I didn't.

After a short break for Christmas, the series resumed on 10 January, now shifted to a late Saturday night/ Sunday morning slot, where it was in danger of clashing with Bilko over on BBC1. I’d obviously decided to give the series the benefit of the doubt, and saw the first two episodes in this run – The Bellero Shield (10 January) and The Mutant (17 January). The latter was very much a case of ‘this is where I came in’, as the monster of the week was none other than the ‘Man With Super Sight’ that had caught my attention back in 1975. Unfortunately, the story wasn’t as intriguing as Warren Oates’ insane make-up had led me to believe.

I finally committed an episode to tape on 7 March 1981, having had a VHS machine since the previous November. Cold Hands, Warm Heart had been mentioned in Jeff Rovin's book, and with William Shatner as guest star, there seemed good reason to tune in and tape the episode for posterity. There were no stupid monsters, either. From 24 April, the series was back on Friday nights, and for the first time in a good few weeks, I was tuned in to see Cry of Silence, summing it up in my diary with the single word ‘hilarious’. This was, of course, the notorious ‘old couple menaced by tumbleweeds’ episode. Adam West was in next week’s episode, The Invisible Enemy (possibly the most over-used title in the history of television), so I again made an effort to watch; but this for me was the end of the line.

The BBC broadcasts ran until 18 July 1981, when the series 2 episode The Brain of Colonel Barham wrapped things up. There would be no repeat broadcasts. When The Outer Limits next appeared in the Radio Times, it was the mid-90s reboot which would run for a staggering seven seasons. I didn’t watch a single episode. The original series finally emerged on DVD, and recently reappeared on the small screen when Talking Pictures picked it up.

To date, I’m sure there are still a good many of the original Outer Limits episodes that I’ve never seen, and a fair few I probably shouldn’t bother with. I’ve owned both series on DVD for over 20 years, but every time I embark on a rewatch, the same old ennui kicks in. The Outer Limits promised a lot and, for me, after waiting half a decade to see it, never quite delivered. I’m currently in the process of watching it again, on Friday late nights in homage to that 1980 BBC broadcast. Whether I stay the distance remains to be seen. Have I, like David McCallum, out-evolved it?

“We now return control of your television set to you...”