Sunday, June 23, 2019

Rocky Jones, Space Ranger: Escape Into Space (Roland Reed Productions, Official Films, 1954)

by Mark Gabrish Conlan • Copyright © 2019 by Mark Gabrish Conlan • All rights reserved

Afterwards the next Rocky Jones, Space Ranger episode was — fortunately — a one-off, “Escape Into Space,” in which the baddies were just common Earth criminals and not interplanetary stand-ins for the Soviet Union. It was originally aired May 1, 1954, and though once again Hollingsworth Morse was the director and Warren Wilson the writer, this time they eschewed Cold War parallels and told a simple story of crook Truck Harmon (Frank Wilcox), who’s just held up something or other (we’re never told just what). He and his sidekick, Lawson (played by Sheb Wooley, four years before he recorded a novelty song called “The Purple People Eater,” a spoof of “B” science-fiction movies, and had a surprise hit which gave him his 15 minutes of fame), are carrying the loot in four suitcases and Harmon tells Lawson and us that if he can just get away from Earth to a planet that has no extradition treaty with the Space Rangers’ federation, he’ll be set for life. To make their escape, they steal a spacecraft (inexplicably already on the launching pad, ready to go — incidentally the producers of Rocky Jones, Space Ranger did the location work for what was supposed to represent their spaceport at an electrical power station, complete with giant Tesla coils that were supposed to warm up the spacecraft so it could launch — all those Tesla fans out there, at least those who know he was a Hungarian-born electrical physicist before he was an electric car, should be pleased!) and head off towards a local planet.

Rocky Jones and his crew fire up their own spacecraft and give chase, eventually running into Truck on a nearby planet whose ruler, Zoravac (Walter Coy), is smart enough to tell Truck he’s persona non grata and order him to leave. Unfortunately, under the laws of space Truck can seek asylum and Rocky can’t do anything about it unless he can definitively prove Truck committed a crime in space. Truck did just that — on the way up to the planet he locked his partner Lawson in an airlock and let all the air out, suffocating him — but the trick is to prove it. Bobby works out a way: he rigs up a white handkerchief over a remote-controlled flying ball and scares the shit out of Vena Ray with it (she may be a capable navigator and interpreter, but under all those skills she’s just a scaredy-pants girl!), and, since Wilson has already told us that Truck is deeply superstitious, Rocky hits on the idea of using Bobby’s ghost-drone toy to frighten Truck into confessing, and all this will happen in a room Rocky has bugged so there’ll be a recording of it. Of course, the plan works (though I wasn’t sure Wilson wrote Truck enough of a confession to be usable in court against him — a halfway decent defense attorney could have argued that Rocky asked so many leading questions Truck’s confession wasn’t truly voluntary) and the universe is saved for niceness once again.