Wednesday, January 10, 2018
Lost in Space
Dave and I have been going through a momentary obsession with the '60s TV show "Lost in Space." It turned up on one of our TV channels not too long ago, so we began recording it to watch in the evenings. It is a hoot.
Sometimes it's pleasantly campy, with a reasonably complex plot. And sometimes it's "perfectly dreadful, my dear," as Dr. Zachary Smith might have said in his affected theatrical accent. Seriously, some episodes are painful to watch -- like when the Robinsons encounter a traveling space circus on their planet. Really?!
The cast makes it bearable, with TV veterans like June Lockhart (who's 92 years old now!) and the always believable Billy Mumy as Will. And "special guest star" (even though he was in every episode) Jonathan Harris, clearly having the time of his life camping it up as Dr. Smith.
The closest thing I can liken it to is "Gilligan's Island," which also paired talented actors with perilously underwritten, juvenile scripts. I suppose both shows really were meant mainly for children. It reinforces the brilliance of "Star Trek," which came out just a year or two later at a whole different level of maturity.
Speaking of space aliens, this woman sat across from me on the overground train on Sunday as I took Olga to Wormwood Scrubs. What planet is that jacket from? Actually, I confess that deep down, I kind of love it -- it's either very cheap or very expensive, and given her overall look I'm guessing it's the latter.
We have marginal progress on our oven situation! A repairman visited yesterday morning and ascertained that the faulty part is, indeed, the on/off switch. He also determined that the ground wire and another wire in the plug were reversed -- he was surprised the oven ran at all and couldn't understand how that had happened. I told him it's been like that as long as we've lived here, because we haven't touched it! So he repaired the plug and will try to order a new switch. If it's not available, it looks like we get a new oven.
(Top photo: Cars on the Blackfriars Bridge, from a water-streaked bus window on a rainy evening.)