Found in space

MST 3000 splashes down

by Gary Susman

The denizens of the Satellite of Love on Mystery Science Theater 3000 have overcome many deadly challenges: the diabolical schemes of Dr. Clayton Forrester, the abrupt departure of creator/star Joel Hodgson, even a screening of Manos, the Hands of Fate. But their most trying ordeal yet may be the show's temporal signal-frequency displacement -- or, for those of you who don't speak dweebonics, a switch to a new time slot on a different cable channel.

A year ago, as the seven-year-old series was arguably at the peak of its popularity, with a guidebook, a forthcoming theatrical feature, and nightly reruns slaking the ravenous appetites of MSTies throughout the universe, Comedy Central unceremoniously canceled the show, claiming that MST3K had hit the doldrums, both in ratings and in creativity. Fortunately, the Sci-Fi Channel scooped up the program and bought 13 new episodes. Already the show had replaced Hodgson with the similarly talented writer/performer Mike Nelson and survived the departure of Dr. Forrester's buffoonish sidekick, Frank. But now, Trace Beaulieu, who played Dr. Forrester and voiced Crow T. Robot, was leaving. Add the Faustian (if logical) bargain imposed by the Sci-Fi Channel -- henceforth, only sci-fi movies on the Satellite of Love (no more Italian Hercules movies or teen-rebel sagas starring Mel Tormé) -- and you can understand the MSTies' apprehension.

The new season began on February 1 (MST3K now airs Saturdays at 4 and 11 p.m.), and the changes, however radical in appearance, seem largely cosmetic and perhaps even liberating. The brilliant premise is the same: forced to watch bad movies, Mike retains his sanity with the help of robots Tom Servo (voiced by writer/director Kevin Murphy) and Crow (now voiced by writer Bill Corbett), who accompany Mike in the trio's running commentary of rapid-fire wisecracks aimed at the screen, doing what you and your friends would do if you had a team of comedy writers at your disposal and your reflexes weren't slowed by beer.

What's new is the premise behind the segments that frame the airing of the films. Gone is Dr. Forrester and the ritual exchange of inventions between the earthbound evil genius and his orbiting guinea pigs. Instead, there's a harder-to-fathom story that has Mike and the robots blasted 500 years into the future. Earth has been taken over by intelligent simians, à la Planet of the Apes, yet ruled by a human lawgiver who happens to be Dr. Forrester's mom, Pearl (played by writer Mary Jo Pehl as a cross between The Drew Carey Show's Mimi and trucker Large Marge from Pee-wee's Big Adventure). Now it's Ma Forrester who, in some vague vendetta against Mike, transmits cinematic travesties to the Satellite of Love.

In the first few episodes, the ape story looked sophomoric and cheesy, even by MST3K's gleefully low-budget production standards. It seemed another imposition of the Sci-Fi Channel, which frequently reruns the five Planet of the Apes movies. However, in last weekend's episode (featuring The Deadly Mantis), there was a devastating homage to the nuclear-bomb cult of Beneath the Planet of the Apes in which Mike inadvertently helped destroy the Earth -- though Pearl and one or two apes escaped and will be able to pursue the Satellite across the galaxy in future episodes via Pearl's rocket-powered Volkswagen Microbus. You have to admire a series that, like The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, destroys the Earth just for a cheap laugh; moreover, the Satellite's traveling from planet to planet opens unlimited comic possibilities not available during the series's earthbound years.

Meanwhile, the peanut-gallery commentary is as sharp (and the pop-cultural references as dazzlingly wide-ranging and esoterically hip) as ever. The sum is not just a wad of spitballs hurled at the easy target of the movies' absurdly low quality but a more comprehensive critique of the Eisenhower-era conformity and Cold War paranoia that underlines these movies (and whose traces linger today; watching The Deadly Mantis's stock footage of our vast military build-up, Crow notes, "After all of this work, how could we really disarm?").

The Sci-Fi Channel has been more than hospitable: it even moved its corporate logo to the opposite corner of the screen so as not to obscure Crow's silhouette as he talks back to the movie screen. The Satellite of Love may be drifting through space, but it has found a good home.