Now Playing: GEMINI MAN
My GEMINI MAN reference in my previous post reminded me that I had some episodes of that 1976 TV series around someplace. GEMINI MAN aired only five times on NBC in the fall of ‘76 before it was cancelled. Eleven episodes were shot, which were later aired in syndication and on the Sci-Fi Channel. Several years ago, I taped a mini-marathon of six GEMINI MAN episodes on Sci-Fi, but never watched them. Who knows if this shortlived series will ever see a DVD release (doubtfully) or be telecast on TV again, so I transferred my (cut for more commercials) Sci-Fi episodes to DVD-R.GEMINI MAN should have been better, considering the talented men who brought it to the screen. It was created for television by Leslie Stevens, who created the magnificent OUTER LIMITS anthology of the early 1960’s; Harve Bennett, who produced many entertaining shows, such as RICH MAN, POOR MAN and THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN; and a young Steven Bochco, who had gotten his start as the story editor on COLUMBO (and contributing one of its finest episodes, “Murder By the Book”, which was directed by an even younger Steven Spielberg). Bochco had also produced THE INVISIBLE MAN, a shortlived series for NBC in 1975 that failed after just a few episodes, but was undoubtedly the inspiration for GEMINI MAN.
THE INVISIBLE MAN starred David McCallum (THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E.) as Dr. Daniel Westin, a scientist who discovered an invisibility formula. He tested it on himself, but was unable to make himself visible again. So he created a remarkably lifelike mask, hands and wig that he wore to make himself appear normal, and became an agent for the KLAE Corporation, a government thinktank. At KLAE, he was assisted by a pretty doctor (Melinda Fee) and worked for gruff, middle-aged Walter Carlson (Craig Stevens of PETER GUNN).
THE INVISIBLE MAN was cancelled in January 1976 after 13 weeks, but in March of that year, NBC telecast GEMINI MAN, a 90-minute pilot that starred Ben Murphy (ALIAS SMITH AND JONES) as Sam Casey, another agent for a government thinktank, this time called Intersect. On an underwater mission, Casey was caught in an explosion and rendered invisible through mysterious radiation. Another pretty doctor (Katherine Crawford) came up with a super wristwatch that made him visible again, but only when it was attached to his wrist. By pressing a button on the watch, Sam could make himself invisible again, but only for up to 15 minutes during a 24-hour period. Under the watchful eye of gruff, middle-aged boss Leonard Driscoll (William Sylvester, 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY), Sam used his invisibility powers to undertake secret missions for Intersect. As you can see, THE INVISIBLE MAN and GEMINI MAN were exactly the same show, and I wouldn’t even be surprised if unused scripts for INVISIBLE MAN turned up as GEMINI MAN episodes, especially considering both were produced by Universal Television for NBC.
I have a weird attraction for stupid-looking robots, and GEMINI MAN delivers big time in its episode, “Minotaur”, one of the few episodes that were actually seen on NBC. Ross Martin (THE WILD, WILD WEST) guest-stars as Carl Victor, a mad scientist and vengeful ex-employee of Intersect who builds a killer robot and demands $500 million from the U.S. Secretary of Defense or else he’ll use the robot, named “Minotaur”, to zap a skyscraper with its built-in laser and level it. To prove he’s not kidding, Victor lures Sam to an abandoned warehouse and uses Minotaur to blow it up. Following Victor’s daughter (Deborah Winters from BLUE SUNSHINE) to his secret laboratory, which appears to be located at the Department of Water and Power, Sam spends the episode dodging Minotaur’s laser blasts and sensor probes.“Minotaur”’s story was co-written by Robert Bloch, a noted horror author whose book PSYCHO inspired Alfred Hitchcock’s classic 1960 motion picture. Staff producers Frank Telford (THE VIRGINIAN) and Robert F. O’Neill (QUINCY, M.E.) wrote the teleplay, and Alan J. Levi, who later replaced director Richard A. Colla during filming of the BATTLESTAR GALACTICA pilot for Universal, helmed the episode, which closely resembles a segment of THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN in terms of story, structure, look and tone. It’s not really all that great, but it does have a clunky-looking robot that talks and shoots lasers. So what’s not to love?


Undefeated World Middleweight Karate champion Chuck Norris had established a franchise of karate schools and was teaching martial arts to Hollywood personalities like Steve McQueen when he got the bug to try acting. Small roles in drive-in flicks like THE STUDENT TEACHERS and RETURN OF THE DRAGON eventually led to his first project as a leading man: a shaggy AIP cheapie titled BREAKER! BREAKER! that attempted to cash in on the then-current truckin’ craze that erupted with the success of pop songs like C.W. McCall’s “Convoy” and hit films like SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT.

MESA OF LOST WOMEN stars Jackie Coogan (that’s right--Uncle Fester!) as Dr. Aranya (“That’s Spanish for spider!”), a mad scientist living atop Mesa Zarpa, perched 600 feet above the Mexican desert. For some idiotic reason, Aranya is attempting to breed humans with spiders in order to create a master race to do his bidding. For an even more idiotic reason, the experiments transform the men into mute midgets, whereas the women become sexy Amazons with long fingernails. Aranya summons a fellow scientist, Masterson (Harmon Stevens), to his laboratory in order to share his secrets with the scientific community. The results drive Masterson mad, however, and he is sentenced to a mental hospital and lobotomized. Somehow, he escapes, and shows up at a cantina, where Tarantella (steamy Tandra Quinn) is performing a steamy spider dance. Masterson shoots her and kidnaps a millionaire, his golddigging fianc?, his Chinese servant and Masterson‘s male nurse. He takes his captives to their airplane and forces pilot Grant Phillips (Robert Knapp) to fly them to Mesa Zarpa, where, uh, where not much happens, really. The nurse and the millionaire are killed (off-screen) by a giant spider, and the rest of the party ends up in Aranya’s underground lab, where Masterson recovers his sanity long enough to send Phillips and his new squeeze on their way safely, and then blow the lab all to hell, destroying Aranya’s mad dream and himself in the process.
All of this happens in about 68 minutes and is actually more compressed than that. MESA opens with a prologue that has nothing to do with the rest of the movie, showing Tarantella planting a kiss of death on an unassuming male victim, and then a bunch of incomprehensible narration written by co-director Tevos (who doesn’t appear to have made another picture) and delivered by Lyle Talbot (JAIL BAIT), another reminder of the Wonderful World of Ed Wood. Talbot rambles deliciously about “hexapods” and the perils of Muerto Desert--”the desert of Death.”
The late Bob Kelljan was a very good director of low-budget action movies and television shows during the 1970’s, in particular three vampire movies for American-International Pictures: two COUNT YORGA pictures and a BLACULA sequel (perhaps Kelljan became typecast in the genre, as he also helmed a STARSKY & HUTCH episode that guest-starred John Saxon as a killer who thought he was a vampire). Probably his most obscure film is 1974's RAPE SQUAD, an AIP sickie with a politically incorrect title and whiplash-inducing message swings between female empowerment and sexploitation.
PAPILLON was the obvious inspiration for this old-fashioned potboiler produced by The Corman Company, run by brothers Roger and Gene Corman. Everyone knows who Roger Corman is, I suppose--one of the most prolific and important independent filmmakers ever, a writer, producer and director of dozens of profitable exploitation movies during the 1950’s and ‘60s who started his own studio in the early ‘70’s, New World Pictures, which churned out hundreds of drive-in favorites until he sold the company in the mid-‘80s. But brother Gene was also a film producer of note with exploitation pictures like SKI PARTY and BEACH BALL and the mainstream adventure TOBRUK. The two brothers occasionally teamed up to make pictures, including this R-rated drive-in number with a great exploitative title.
