(1969) Directed by Roy Ward Baker; Written by Michael
Carreras; Story by Gavin Lyall, Frank Hardman and Gavin Davison; Starring: James
Olson, Catherina Von Schell, Warren Mitchell, Adrienne Corri, Ori Levy and
Bernard Bresslaw; Available on DVD (Warner Archive)
Rating **½
“We’re all foreigners here. We always will be.” – Captain Kemp
(James Olson)
“It was more than a headache. It turned out to be
practically impossible. What nobody realized at the time is that you simply
cannot make a space fiction picture at those prices at double or even treble
normal Hammer budgets.” – Roy Ward Baker (excerpt from interview with Stephen
Laws, Manchester Festival of Fantastic Films)
Once again, I extend a heartfelt thanks to Gill Jacob from
Realweegiemidget Reviews,
for helping make The 2nd Great Hammer-Amicus Blogathon
a reality. I’m honored to have co-hosted this three-plus-day multi-blogger
event. Be sure to check out all the exceptional posts! Without additional
fanfare, here’s my second contribution…
Roy Ward Baker was one of Hammer’s secret weapons. Prior to Moon
Zero Two, the versatile director delivered the one-two punch of cerebral
science fiction thriller (and personal favorite) Quatermass and the Pit
(1967), followed swiftly by the Bette Davis dark comedy The Anniversary
(1968). Calling Baker’s lunar adventure Hammer’s answer to 2001: A Space
Odyssey (1968) would be a stretch. For starters, its diminutive budget was
£500,000 (roughly equivalent to $1.25 million in 1969 dollars), compared to $10.5-12
million for Kubrick’s film. Also, the Hammer production, touted as “the first
space western,” had more modest aims, in contrast to Kubrick’s lofty goals (which
was about nothing less than tracing the evolution of the human species). Considering
the time, money and resources that Baker had to work with, Moon Zero Two was an
ambitious project nonetheless.*
* Fun Fact #1: In The Hammer Story, Marcus Hearn and
Alan Barnes point out that Baker’s film wrapped in three months, compared to
three years for 2001.
Moon Zero Two has enjoyed a sketchy reputation for many
reasons, but perhaps its biggest blunder is that it takes the material so seriously.
The lighthearted animated opening credits sequence, accompanied by a bombastic
theme song (sung by Julie Driscoll) that wouldn’t seem out of place in a Bond
film, suggests it’s going to be a Dr.
Strangelove-esque farce. A cartoon U.S. astronaut and Russian cosmonaut duke
it out over lunar real estate, before encountering a swinging ‘60s moon base. The
film’s ensuing reality, however, is closer to Treasure of the Sierra Madre by way of Goldfinger, with its
themes of greed and deceit. Set in the far-off future of 2021, ex-astronaut
Kemp (James Olson) operates a creaky 10-year-old moon transport. Instead of performing
odd salvage missions for hire, he’d rather be exploring the solar system. To
makes matters worse, he’s about to be grounded by moon authorities. His skill
set captures the interest of a wealthy magnate with eyes on a valuable celestial
prize, but without the means to secure the meteor. He courts Kemp’s services,
while hatching a scheme to dodge any pesky U.N. regulations.
The best role belongs to Warren Mitchell as the shifty,
monocle-wearing Hubbard.* Hubbard knows how to make an entrance, accompanied by
an entourage of groovy space chicks, an accountant, and a towering bodyguard
(played by the 6’ 7” Bernard Bresslaw). Okay, to be fair, I doubt anyone’s paying
much attention to the accountant (My apologies to any CPAs who might be reading
this). He sets his sights on the Maltese Falcon of the story, a 6,000-ton
sapphire-encrusted asteroid. To sweeten the proposed deal, he dangles a
tantalizing carrot in Kemp’s face – offering him a new space ferry in exchange
for his help.
* Note to fashionistas everywhere: According to this movie,
the monocle is destined to go back in style in 2021. Remember, you heard it
here first.
It’s not usually a good sign when the colorful villain robs
the stage from Kemp, the bland protagonist. Instead of Olson’s vanilla version
of a space hero, the film needed someone with a Connery or Eastwood quality to
pull off the role. Instead, we’re expected to believe, by virtue of the script,
that he’s been around the moon base with more than a few of the women he works
with. Some sparks ignite but fizzle out quickly between Kemp and his main
squeeze, Elizabeth “Liz” Murphy of the Lunar Bureau of Investigation (Adrienne
Corri). Poor Liz gets the short end of the stick in favor of Clem (Catherina Von
Schell, in her only Hammer role),* who arrives on the moon in search of her missing
brother. Somehow, Clem and Kemp manage to share even less chemistry.
* Fun Fact #2: Corri and Von Schell would return for more
moon-based hijinks in the Gerry Anderson television series Space: 1999.
Moon Zero Two attempts to exploit its western
leanings with a few scattered anachronistic affectations of the genre.* One of
the lunar outposts boasts a wooden structure that appears to serve no practical
purpose. A saloon (with cardboard facades) features dancers doing awkward
routines to distract the patrons from the rotgut they’re forced to drink. There’s
even a requisite bar fight sequence, in which the filmmakers try to spice
things up with Kemp turning off the artificial gravity. Inexplicably, the
action turns to slow motion, as if the fight were underwater.
* Watch for Michael Ripper, Britain’s answer to Dick Miller,
in a bit part as a card shark.
While there are many aspects of Moon Zero Two* that
don’t quite gel, it’s worth giving the film credit where it’s due. Budgetary
limitations aside, the filmmakers did a lot with what they had, featuring some
detailed model work by Les Bowie’s special effects team (which reportedly
numbered at least 40 individuals) and a full-scale moon buggy. Other highlights
include the outré costumes designed by Carl Toms and moon women sporting candy
colored hair (recalling the short-lived Gerry Anderson series U.F.O.).
It’s too bad the inconsistent tone and pacing detract from the film’s kitschy
appeal. In 2001, there was an intentionality to the pacing of the space-based
and moon exploration scenes. Here, in a movie that’s supposed to be more action
oriented, it just appears to be padding. There’s little excuse for the
sloth-like procession of these scenes, which bring the film to a screeching
halt. Moon Zero Two isn’t quite the disaster that some film guides might
lead you to believe. If you’re in the mood for retro future shenanigans and not
much more, it might scratch that itch.
*Fun Fact #3: In a case of counting his moon rocks before
they were collected, producer/writer Michael Carreras planned a sequel feature,
Disaster in Space, and a subsequent television series. On account of Moon
Zero Two’s less than stellar box office receipts, neither project ever
materialized
Sources: The Hammer Story, by Marcus Hearn and Alan
Barnes; Hammer Glamour by Marcus Hearn; and Hammer Films: The Unsung
Heroes, by Wane Kinsey
