

Lost in Space (1998) 124 min.  

If any recent trend can bear witness to the all-too-often voiced
complaint that Hollywood has run out of ideas, then it is the
recycling of 1960s television shows into big-budget, star-powered
cinema updates. It's jump-on-the-bandwagon thinking, of that there is
no doubt, but unlike other recent trends - the 'based on video game'
film, the 'return to the 70s disaster flicks', the 'make a movie from
anything by Jane Austen' mini-booms - this bandwagon looks set to roll
on for some time yet.  Why is this happening, and why now?  It 
could be said that this flood of old television to the 
box-office is less a process of revivifying our cultural past 
than colonizing it - the simple fact that we are in a position to 
look back gives us the right for enlightened comment and critique.  
Or it could be some kind of fin-de-siecle anxiety, harrying us to 
polish and repackage these old shows before they are looked back on 
as some potentially embarrassing remnant of the 20th century (Oh 
yeah, we knew that show was stupid, but look, we made this out of it 
to prove that we knew).  It's really more simple than either of these 
ideas:  these TV makeovers are Hollywood's way of saying Yes, we know 
we've run out of ideas, we're just not trying to hide it any more, 
and you'd better get used to it because the Baby Boomers are running 
this asylum now, and we grew up with these old shows, so you're going 
to take this reheated hash and scarf it up just the same way you've 
always done, without any need for us to apologise for it.  Because, 
folks, postmodernism means never having to say you're sorry.    

This kind of honesty is almost beyond criticism.  It's Hollywood
waving its flag and saying, Look Ma, no ideas!   So, for the most
part, we've shut up and treated these films as the harmless
reminiscences they inevitably turn out to be.  Their treatment is
wholly predictable: part revision, part homage, all marketing.  But a
few exceptions have slipped through the net: Betty Thomas' necessarily
cruel (but affectionate - you can be as iconoclastic as you like with
this nostalgia as long as you stay affectionate) repositioning of THE
BRADY BUNCH; and Brian De Palma's take on MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE, which
saw the Impossible Missions Force blown away in the first scene (a
move which several people were not pleased with, because with that one
cavalier stroke, De Palma demonstrated that he was sadly lacking in
that all-important affection for the original).

Which brings us to LOST IN SPACE, and another problem concerning TV
remakes, for it is impossible to separate the cinema experience from
the historical product that has imprinted its own identity so firmly
in our culture.  LOST IN SPACE was originally intended to be serious
science-fiction but descended into camp once Jonathan Harris (Dr
Smith, a murderous saboteur who was meant to be written out after half
a dozen episodes) started getting the most of the show's fan mail. 
Soon LOST IN SPACE became nothing more than 'The Dr Smith, Will
Robinson, and Robot Show', and as the budget became skimpier (which
explains why they would spend a whole season on the same planet, then
take off and land on another planet with the same rocks arranged
differently) and the not-very-special effects even cheaper, the
once-serious concept took on a wayward surrealism unprecedented in
prime-time TV.  In fact, for many young viewers the show's absurdity
made it frightening.  LOST IN SPACE went beyond all logic and thus
into the territory of nightmare.  One particularly terrifying episode
(for me, anyway) found Will and Doctor Smith in a fog-shrouded
minimalist street set of Chinatown talking about buying hot dogs while
oversized spiders lay lurking in the dark.  With a memory of the show
as vivid as that, how could any belated cinema remake stand alone?

Nevertheless, the 1998 LOST IN SPACE manages to pull off this
balancing act, and it does it by returning to the show's roots.  It
may be affectionate, spirited, even respectful in an odd sort of way,
but most importantly it manages to do what its television predecessor
could not - have the muscle to back up its intentions.  Its most
apparent strength is the special effects, not only in quality but also
sheer volume - this is one of the most FX-saturated movies you're
likely to have seen in some time.  It's strange that the 'biological'
effects - i.e. monsters and critters in general - don't hold up as
well as the rest, but in a strange way it is reflective of the
monsters in the original show, which were just plain lousy (Look! 
There's a woman with her face painted green!  Look!  There's a guy
wearing a sparkly bowler hat and a stocking over his head!)  The
second strength the 1998 version has is Akiva Goldsman's script, which
manages to employ several motifs and undercurrents of the show without
making them obvious in-jokes or necessary prerequisites with which to
'appreciate' the update.  There are spins on the businesslike
space-pioneer 'give-me-a-hand-with-the-force-field-Don' relationship
(or nonrelationship) between John Robinson and Don West; the
friendship/bonding between Will and the Robot; and most dramatically,
the unspoken (but apparent to those of us who were regular viewers of
the series) surrogate father relationship Will had with Dr Smith -
which in this version is pursued to a horrible conclusion the 
original producers could never have foreseen.

Fine so far, but will the fans like it?  Fandom is a difficult
demographic.  The elements of the series held in most affection will
be the same ones which most pointedly fail to deliver for several
viewers on several levels, but the most common point of focus will be
the replacement of new actors for old.  Who, for example, could
possibly replace Jonathan Harris as Doctor Smith?  I wouldn't have
thought it would have been Gary Oldman, but he does a creditable job. 
Jack Johnson similarly slips comfortably into the role of Will.  I 
suspect it may be Lacey Chabert's portrayal of Penny that will rankle 
many fans (pure prejudice on my part, since I had an enormous crush 
on Angela Cartwright as a kid), whose character does admittedly 
become more engaging and less whiny as the film goes on, but what 
does she keep complaining about? At least the Robinsons have to 
be a step up from the PARTY OF FIVE family she's been stuck with for 
the last five years.  Perversely, it is the only non-human character 
of the series that is the most significantly irreplaceable.  Hearing 
the voice of Dick Tufeld, the only actor from the original to reprise 
his role (the Robot) in the film, provides viewers with the most 
immediate nostalgic experience that LOST IN SPACE has to offer - 
that, and I suppose the revamped title theme played over the end 
credits (not the show's more memorable original theme, however - 
remember, it had two!) The only major departure from prewritten 
characterization would be Don, as played by Matt LeBlanc - really, 
it's just another version of his character Joey from FRIENDS - but 
it's a perversely satisfying change: at last we get to see Don 
hitting on John and Maureen Robinson's cute older daughter Judy.  And 
about time.

I'm wary of making a comment as general as 'Fans of the TV show will
love LOST IN SPACE',  because being the first kid on the block to see
it I haven't yet had a chance to compare reactions.  But I can say
personally that as a fan of the show I was enormously satisfied with
what the film-makers had done. LOST IN SPACE works.  It is able to
exist on its own terms as an imaginative and active space adventure,
while still catering to fans of the original.  I'd go as far as saying
that it is the most enjoyable adaptation of a TV show I have yet seen.
 But once again, this is prejudice on my part - I can't think of many
other shows (well, GET SMART was one) which spawned as many
catch-phrases in the school playground.  Most of them came from Smith,
whether it was "The pain, the paaaiin" (usually when filing out for a
PE lesson) or anything ending with "Dear boy" (I'm sure also that 
many teachers must have gotten sick of kids responding "Never fear, 
Smith is here" whenever they were appointed with some minor classroom 
task). However, as much as I enjoyed Smith I have to say it was Don 
who made me laugh the most when I revisited the show a decade or so 
ago. Humorless Don, who for all appearances seemed to be a walking
clockspring of repressed rage, and who could never speak to Smith
without snarling ("You're a 24-carat goldbrick!"), was where we could
see the reality outside the show intrude into its own peculiar
universe; for this was Don-the-actor voicing on behalf of the rest of
the Robinson Family with every snarl his extreme vexation about being
relegated to the periphery while a camp old ham merrily stole the show
right from under them.  It makes you think about why Jonathan Harris 
was one of the few original cast members not to get a walk-on this 
time around.

The series LOST IN SPACE has become something of an institution now. 
Some may ask why any studio would bother to make an enormously
expensive movie of a flimsy low-budget show thirty years later.  Fans
will reply that it has been a remake that has been too long in coming.
 The facts, according to the original show, stated that the Robinsons
blasted off into space on October 16, 1997.  It's a shame the film's
producers couldn't have arranged for their debut to coincide with date
and bring the whole LOST IN SPACE phenomenon full circle.  As it
stands, this new telling of that story has wisely reset the launch
date to September 30, 2058.  I guess we can look forward to
Hollywood's next onslaught of television remakes - remakes of remakes,
in fact - around about that time.