Andrew Billen- NewStatesman
Television
Andrew Billen
Monday 21st February 2005
Television - A revamped children's classic is good enough for grown-ups, writes Andrew Billen
Captain Scarlet (ITV)
At last, you may think, this paper's TV critic gets to opine on a subject he knows something about - for know about Captain Scarlet I do. I know his real name is Paul Metcalfe, his boss is Colonel White and his best friend is Captain Blue. I know he works for Spectrum on an aircraft carrier in the sky, and I know how he became indestructible. On Sunday nights in 1967 and 1968, I religiously watched all 32 episodes of Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons - even the one ITV postponed that October night when someone called Clement Attlee died and they put on a tribute instead. Earth contained no one I admired more than the show's creator, Gerry Anderson, the man who made Thunderbirds.
But even with the signature of the great man (now in his seventies) attached to it, I was more than likely to hate Anderson's new Captain Scarlet. I am one of the nerds, as Mark Kermode would say, who boycotted last summer's Thunderbirds film because it messed too much with the original. But the new Scarlet is, I have to admit, probably better than the original. It is faster, slicker, glossier - yet, like the original, still sucks you into its strange, over-automated alternative future. Most of the old names and faces are there, although Spectrum's quota of female officers has increased, and Captain Green has become a woman. It remains absolutely true to the original's darkly sinister adult tone. Whereas Thunderbirds was about rescuing people, Scarlet was about damnation, the soul of a resurrected man being fought for between Captain Scarlet and the equally indestructible Captain Black. It was Anderson's Gothic period.
How I loved it then! But I remember as a child feeling gloomy about the prospects for future adult nostalgia. Anderson's science fiction seemed unimprovably sophisticated and technically advanced. It would not be like looking back, as our elders might do, on the innocence of Larry the Lamb or the Saturday-morning cinema serials. Indeed, Scarlet was superior even to all the brilliant things Anderson had already done. A special-effects breakthrough had reduced the size of the lip-synching machinery inside his puppets' heads. As a result, Scarlet and his friends were not lumbered with grotesquely large faces like the one that marred even Lady Penelope's regal beauty.
But my nine-year-old self would have been amazed by the way this revamp looks - although, with each episode costing almost £1m, compared to the £25,000 Anderson had to play with in the Sixties, it should look amazing. "Hypermarionation" has superseded "Supermarionation"; computer-generated imagery has replaced puppetry. In the old days, Anderson had a problem making his characters walk. To avoid getting their strings in a twist, he generally plonked them at desks and flight consoles. Freed by technology, his new animated actors dash about, fight and, obeying at long last the laws of science, attain weightlessness in space. Of the old effects, only the roaming green Mysteron torch-circles remain.
Yet, in a sense, I was right: Anderson's programmes were sophisticated, even adult. To take a small thing, the heroes were allowed love lives. Steve Zodiac and Venus were an item aboard Fireball XL5. In Stingray, Troy Tempest was caught in a love triangle between the commander's daughter Atlanta and the mute semi- mermaid Marina. Scott Tracy had the hots for Lady Penelope in Thunderbirds (but she was out of his league). Watching the original Captain Scarlet, I remember my pre-pubescent self becoming alarmed by an episode in which it was revealed that Captain Blue was in love with Symphony, the ravishing pilot of one of the Angel planes, and being relieved when the episode turned out to be a dream (hers not his). In the new programme, puppet love is even more complicated. Destiny Angel, who had been Captain Black's squeeze, is being "comforted" by Scarlet. By a mid-season episode that I have seen, their flirtations are positively hot.
The "dateline", we are told archly at the start of the first programme, is "the day after tomorrow", but a newspaper later shows that it is, as it always was, 2068. Now that we are almost 40 years nearer this future, it is interesting to see how the detail of the back-story has changed. In the 1968 version of 2068, there had been an atomic war in 2028. A world government was now in place, although, ominously, the "Eastern Bloc" was not part of it. The new production notes refer to the "outbreak of world terrorist wars" that killed Scarlet's parents before these programmes begin. But Anderson was on the money about one thing even in 1967 - the Mysterons do not wish to invade Planet Earth, but intend to destabilise it with acts of terrorism.
I have a few complaints. It is a shame, for instance, that Anderson has not used the original Barry Gray theme music, and it's a greater shame that ITV is airing it so early, tucked into Ministry of Mayhem, its Saturday-morning kiddy magazine show. It deserves a teatime slot, where it could go head-to-head against the new Dr Who in the spring (the grown-ups, I promise, would not be bored - at least not the dads when they watch Destiny take her tunic off). And Anderson has fixed every child's main objection to the programme: if Scarlet is indestructible, where's the excitement? Captain Scarlet, we are now told, is virtually indestructible.
Andrew Billen is a staff writer on the Times