Monsters, John! Monsters from the id! July 20, 2006
Posted by John Hodson in : Film General , add a commentThe news that Warners are about to release not only a Special Edition (capital ‘S’, capital ‘E’) of their seminal sci-fi classic, Forbidden Planet, but also one of those bells and whistles Ultimate Collectors Editions (capital U. C. E.) complete with a model (or should I say toy) of Robby the Robot, makes me feel - as James Tiberius Kirk once said - ‘young’.
I’ve always been a sucker for toys. For some reason, even at a very tender age, my purchases were influenced by what I had seen on the big and small screens. I clearly remember a tearful first day at school salved only by a visit to the local toy emporium. I’d seen Gregory Peck sail the seas as Captain Horatio Hornblower a couple of nights before, so that was what I wanted - that humongous model of a 19th century frigate. I got a colouring book (”..and be grateful! You little bugger…” my gran would no doubt have said. I miss her still)
So, I’ve variously been, courtesy of numerous visits to that same shop (now a Bookmakers - shame), Napoleon Solo (Illya Kuryakin when my brother commandeered my number ‘11′ badge), James Bond - various incarnations, from the Corgi Aston Martin, to a vicious plastic knife and ‘undersea mask’ from Thunderball and Bond ‘Action Man’ clothing. Dollies for boys; who knew?
I’ve been Batman (mask and cape in washable nylon), had umpteen Daleks, of most shapes and sizes, every which kind of lawman (a ‘Kiss Me Quick’ hat with the slogan removed for public decency, but with the fringes left on. I liked the finges), the Universal Monsters (though, come night time, I had to hide the figures away in a drawer. They come alive at midnight y’know?), most of the Thunderbirds outfit (not Alan - shudder), and quite definitely Robby the Robot. Whether he was making the funnies in Forbidden Planet, or even guest starring in other shows (Lost in Space being one), it didn’t really matter. The toy was so cool - though, god bless it’s little vacu-formed Mattel soul, it is now probably still part of South Lancashire’s increasingly worrying landfill problem.
But the toys never stopped; on to my Airfix period, my ‘I wanna be George Best’ flirtation (or a ‘Beatle’ - Paul; the girl’s liked Paul - or Roy Wood), the cars - girls - my oil paints (some of the tubes haven’t quite petrified), a journalist (no, wait, that was real; well, when I say, ‘real’…)…and now the DVDs. As well as satisfying my culteral needs (repeat the mantra), there’s little doubt that gathering great arms full of these little shiny discs fulfills my desires in much the same way as trotting off to that toy shop and frittering away my 2s 6d a week pocket money. I get the same shuddering frisson of pleasure.
Why else would I have the Universal Monsters box set, complete with figurines, and both the Tin and Box Set versions of King Kong?
Worse, I’m incredibly attracted by the thoughts of buying that Forbidden Planet tin (for, having seen a picture, that’s what it looks like), in which lies not some tacky plastic figure, but part of my youth. You see, we are both 50 years old this year, the Forbidden Planet Robby and I. We’re blood brothers, conceived in that same technological white heat of a post WW2 world, perhaps even in the same moment. Actually that’s a particularly gruesome thought (my conception, not Robby’s - but, hell, I can’t unthink it)
However, it’s fate. And no matter how much I set my face against it, deep down I know I’m lost.
I must have him…