The Martian Chronicles
Produced in 1979 and aired in 1980, this miniseries adaptation of Ray Bradbury’s “Martian Chronicles” stories was one of the first big SF co-productions between an American network (in this case NBC) and the BBC. To say that this is an example of the state of SFTV in its day may be an understatement, but it’s not short on A-list talent. It stars Rock Hudson and Bernie Casey, among others, was directed by Michael Anderson (Logan’s Run), and was adapted for TV by none other than SF novelist Richard Matheson (whose own work, “I Am Legend”, has just gotten its third theatrical treatment as of this writing). It was even produced by none other than Milton Subotsky, who was behind the two Peter Cushing Doctor Who/Daleks films in the 1960s. The international cast is peppered with names that any veteran of either American or British TV will recognize.
One of the most baffling things to me, however, and funny in hindsight, is that the model and effects work was left to the Britons. Let’s put that in perspective - in 1979, at a time when American TV had produced visually striking stuff like Battlestar Galactica and the original Star Trek, and at a time when British TV was in a bit of an effects-deficient rut with otherwise wonderful shows like Doctor Who and Blake’s 7, the special effects work was left to the Britons. No offense is intended here, but one would think that everyone’s respective showreels would’ve made the choice clear. Granted, there are wonderful miniatures, such as that nearly-perfect model of the Viking lander at the opening of the first “episode”, but that particular item, however wonderfully made it is, is photographed in such a way that it’s woefully obvious that it’s a miniature. To make up for this, the location shooting is nothing less than spectacular, much of the surface of Mars being represented by Lanzarote, Spain. I know some SF diehards are put off by the blue sky full of very Earthly clouds, but the location itself was unusual enough for me to overlook that. (And come on, we’re talking about some alternate universe Mars where men from Earth can stride out of their mighty rocketships wearing spacesuits consisting of turtlenecks, jackets, slacks and sneakers. It seems like a little suspension of disbelief might be called for here.) There are intriguing sets, such as very modular, almost trailer-home-esque prefabricated habitats which the Earth colonists bring for themselves. While they may look cheap on screen, I can believe that this is the kind of accomodation that would be set up in a colonial venture like this.
Storywise, The Martian Chronicles is all over the map. It’s not a completely faithful rendition of Ray Bradbury’s series-of-short-stories, but it could’ve been worse. Perhaps it’s not the adaptation that falls down as much as simply the style of the day - the style of acting, shooting, lighting, costuming the whole thing has dated almost painfully. The zip-up space suit jackets worn by those valiant astronauts have big wing collars that scream “disco-era” to anyone watching; I won’t even talk about the first episode’s notion of a team of NASA astronauts landing on Mars in 2004, one of whom - a stock “New Yawker” character with a stereotypical Brooklyn accent - proceeds to get drunk after landing, triggering what seems like a kind of murderous survivor’s-guilt psychosis in a fellow crew member. The acting style is pure Knots Landing material in part one - and the overall tone is not driven by this show’s SF contemporaries (Buck Rogers, Battlestar Galactica, Star Wars), but by the style of prime-time soap operas of the day.
Part two is an intriguing segment which examines what happens when humans attempt to transpose various trappings of the life they take for granted on Earth - religion, the entrepreneurial spirit, and so on - to Mars, with wildly mixed results. With this segment, the acting becomes a little more naturalistic (but only a little), and the whole thing starts to take the form of Twilight Zone/Outer Limits-style vignettes loosely strung together and connected mainly by the character of Colonel Wilder (Rock Hudson). The first episode is referenced quite a bit, specifically the forebodings expressed by the doomed astronaut Spender (Bernie Casey) about spreading the “disease” of humanity to the stars. The second part ends startlingly with the destruction of Earth, a somber moment which brings to a close the most effective of the three episodes.
The third and final episode starts out with a continuation of the anthology-like vignettes, though in this case they’re intertwined a bit more intricately. But things seem a bit rushed in this part: Wilder is apparently able to muster enough fuel to return to Earth, search through the ruins of his post-nuclear-holocaust world for some sign of survivors, and yet despite the devastation, he’s able to single-handedly refuel his remarkably reusable Mars ship and leave Earth again. (But not before he’s watched a handy surveillance tape - miraculously spared being wiped by the electromagnetic discharge that would result from a worldwide nuclear war - that shows not the destruction of mission control, but the very sanitary, classic-Star-Trek-style “vanishing” of everyone inside, in an effect that intriguingly makes it look like perhaps the 
Martians whisked them away…a visual clue which then goes unexplored for the remainder of the show. Back on Mars, which was conveniently emptied of people by a governmentally-mandated global evacuation that sent most everyone back to Earth just in time to be nuked, we find that a handful of colonists stayed. Some can’t make peace with the fact that they survived, some can’t find good help, and some just want to find a date. (It’s played out in a silly ’70s way - complete with Bernadette Peters - that made me think of the phrase “Love, Martian Style”, but hey, the species does, after all, need repopulating…) One man (Space: 1999’s Barry Morse) has apparently constructed androids in the shape of his dead wife and daughter to keep him from going mad.
The final part of the third segment is frustratingly vague, with Wilder getting advice from what seems to be the ghost of one of the last Martians, telling him to live peacefully in accordance with nature. Wilder then decides to do exactly that - in the midst of several (sometimes seemingly random) flashbacks from the first two episodes - gathering up his family to go live in the Martian wild, telling them that they are “the new Martians.” This peacenik message is hammer-subtle, and this episode really veers the furthest away from Bradbury’s original stories, and it all seems very rushed.
Holding the whole thing together, to give credit where credit is due, is Rock Hudson himself. By turning in a subdued and thoughtful portrayal of the final expedition commander and eventual colony leader, he invited the rest of the cast to bring their A-game to the table for all three segments. I won’t really call out any names or offer any specifics on whether or not anyone took the late Mr. Hudson up on that invitation, but if there’s a single pivot point of believable characterization from the acting side of things, it’s him, and it’s just possible that the entire project could have been much poorer if not for his efforts.
Extra-wise, The Martian Chronicles on DVD are as barren as the real planet Mars: unless you think menus and multilingual subtitles are a bonus feature, there is nothing here but the main program, spread across three discs. The picture and sound quality are good for something made for TV nearly 30 years ago, though there’s no significant attempt made at remastering. There are some godawful exterior shots, which attempt to simulate Martian skies with clumsy use of graduated-color lens filters (though most of the live action footage has made no attempt to match that coloring), that could’ve used some modern-day retouching (or even digital replacing for that matter).
In the final analysis, what makes The Martian Chronicles worth watching again? For me, it was pure curiosity - I’d seen just a tiny smidge of part one when I was all of seven years old, but while I was thrilled with the Viking model shots and the spacey music (which I’ve already covered in a review of the Martian Chronicles 
soundtrack CD), my mother decided we’d be sticking to Battlestar Galactica instead after a few minutes of the Martian lady having hot dreams about Earthmen (though in retrospect I think she was objecting to the concept; in watching it now, the execution is extremely tame compared to, say, the average episode of Lexx). What my mother might have actually saved me from was boredom - in places, The Martian Chronicles moves very slowly, reminding me somewhat of the first season of Space: 1999 in that regard.
Bradbury’s stories, which first saw publication in the 1950s, were already just a little bit “retro” by the time they made it to the small screen, and now, almost 30 years later, the whole thing has a double shot of “retro” about it - Bradbury’s stories and the very, very 1979/1980 production style that infuses every frame of film seen here. In that regard, perhaps this miniseries’ chief stock in trade is pure nostalgia…but perhaps it also serves as a notice that a much more definitive version of Bradbury’s tales of the red planet is still waiting to be made by someone, at some point.