Chapter 6: Into the Future’s Past
Excerpt from All You Need is a Chin: Confessions of a B-Movie Actor by Bruce Campbell
You never know when opportunity will strike. Back in ’89 it sure didn’t seem to be striking for me. Sam was basking in the post-Batman glow, but no one was barging through my agent’s door yelling “I need the guy who Shemped for Batman!”
Maniac Cop paid the bills, but it wasn’t going to lead to anything beyond more B movies. Christine and I had recently divorced and not much seemed to be going my way. But opportunity was coming, and from the damnedest of places.
With both
Batman and
Indiana Jones 3 blockbuster successes, Sam [Raimi] and Lisa [Henson] decided to get hitched. It wouldn’t last long, but it was fun for us all while it lasted. Lisa is a trip. She makes Sam’s dry sense of humor look tame by comparison. The wedding was insane. I got to be a groomsman for Sam alongside a Deadite and Robin Williams dressed as the Joker while Lisa’s bride’s maids included Miss Piggy [as a walkaround] and Marion Ravenwood. Elmo (Kevin Clash, really) was the ring bearer for the bride. Sweetums, the big, toothy, “aw shucks” monster Muppet, helped carry the bridal train.
The reception was even nuttier. Lisa danced with Sweetums after her turn with her dad and Elmo sang inappropriate songs.
Out of the mouths of babes.
Now, after a while I needed to just sit somewhere quiet, so I found an open spot at a table next to this guy I had pegged as a surfer. Sun-bleached hair, skin about a decade older than the rest of him, and a laid-back attitude. He and I started to talk. He seemed like he was either on a higher plane of reality, or a “higher” plane of reality, I couldn’t tell which. “I’m John,” he said. But he was a sharp guy, and upon closer inspection not a stoner at all. He didn’t even drink or smoke. We talked about any number of random things while Muppets danced with Deadites around us, and I began to wonder what they’d put in the punch. Eventually, a thin dark-haired woman joined us and joined in the conversation. “I’m Cheryl.” She did production and costuming for MGM, so we talked Hollywood.
It was only after the father of the bride, Jim Henson, joined us that I realized that John and Cheryl were Lisa’s younger siblings. We continued the conversation about nothing as if there was nothing amazing about the fact that a major studio executive and living entertainment legend was sitting next to me. I guess when he’s your dad it
is nothing amazing. I got up to use the Little Muppet’s Room and by the time I got back John and Cheryl had moved on. Jim offered me a seat.
“Lisa says that you’re Sam’s friend,” he said.
“Yea, um, that’s right, sir” I said. I know, pure eloquence.
He asked me about my acting plans, and I confessed that I mostly just wanted to do more than slashers, soap operas, and Shemping for Sam.
He asked if I’d be interested in playing the title role for a Buck Rogers TV series for PFN[1].
(Image source Will Hoover at “pinterest.com”)
So, if you’re listening to the audio book of this then you just heard the big dramatic pause after that last statement. The creative head of a major studio had just asked me to play the lead on a TV series. I tried not to sputter. “I’d have to check out the scripts,” I said, “but sure, I’d be interested.” Yea, real suavé there, Rico Campbell! I just hoped that they wouldn’t make me wear a lycra unitard!
All I knew of Buck Rogers was the 1979 Gil Gerard series that was like Disco Star Wars. But gift horses and mouths and all that. I auditioned for and ultimately got the job, but you knew that.
Now, usually when an old series gets rebooted, the producers try to update it for modern audiences. That’s what they’d done with the last Buck Rogers series in the ‘70s, hence why it looked like something out of
Saturday Night Fever. But Disney, technically Fantasia Television in partnership with Lucasfilm, took things the
other way! They went all the way back to the old comics, with Art Deco spaceships and laser guns with rings on them. My costume looked like a cross between The Rocketeer and a B-17 pilot. I had a rocket pack and a space ship called The Searcher.
Production was this sort of three-headed monster between Fantasia, Lucasfilm, and Marvel, which had gained the Buck Rogers rights through one of their former board members[2]. Lucasfilm producer Rick McCallum was brought in as show runner (he’d worked with George Lucas and with Frank Oz on
Dreamchild a few years earlier) and he found a young Lucy Liu to play Wilma Deering, my partner and unrequited love interest. Playing opposite from her was Jennifer Tilly as the seductively evil Princess Ardala, who was always trying to get into Buck’s pants. I was trapped in the middle of this Space Betty and Veronica thing, forced to choose between two beautiful women.
I know. Life is hard.
Jennifer stole the show on screen and got the majority of fan letters from horny teenage boys, but she also made a splash behind the scenes too. Some of the crew played poker between takes. She asked to play one day and got the usual condescending male responses like “oh, sure honey, you can play!” and some smarmy offers for strip poker that she coyly turned down. By the end of the shift the boys had lost their figurative shirts as she cleaned them out. They would have lost their literal shirts if she’d taken them up on the strip poker offer, but she told me that she had no desire to see any of them naked.
Robert Guillaume, a real television legend at this point, was cast as Dr. Elias Huer, who was Buck’s mentor figure. Robert also became a sort of mentor for me too, ironically enough. He had lots of good advice, not just on acting, but on dealing with studio politics. On my suggestion they hired Charlie “Professor Tanaka” Kalani as Killer Kane, who like in the TV show (but apparently not in the comics) worked as Ardala’s dragon. Charlie and I had hit it off after he beheaded me on
The Running Man.
Actor Brian Blessed even made occasional guest appearances as Emperor Draco, Ardala’s dad. We even got Gil Gerard and Erin Grey to make cameos as various Earth Force admirals and Mel Blanc voiced a snarky computer once in a reference to the original Twiki.
Speaking of Twiki, Jerry Nelson and some of the Muppets guys came in to operate and voice the robots Twiki and Dr. Theopolis, who each looked like something out of
Metropolis crossed with the robot from
Lost in Space. It was another import from the ’79 series that wasn’t from the comics, or so the comics nerds never get tired of telling me. Twiki was played by Sheri Weiser in a suit and Muppet player Fran Brill worked this mechanical oven mitt that controlled the facial features and lights while providing the voice. Meanwhile, Jerry and a young Muppets intern used green-screened rods to work the Dr. T. robot, which was a sight to behold to say the least. Fans bitched about Twiki even being there while also bitching that they’d made her a girl. They wanted Mel Blanc. Hey, I get it, your childhood and all, but I’ll blacken the eye of anyone who badmouths Sheri and Fran, and if I can’t, then Charlie or Jenni will.
Honestly, the show was a blast to make. The writing was great in a deliberately campy kind of way. Rick wanted the show to be “fun” more than anything else. There was lots of action and martial arts. Charlie got to throw me or my stunt double through breakaway walls and windows on more than one occasion. My whole schtick was being this guy from the modern day who’d been frozen in a NASA cryogenic experiment gone wrong and awoken in the 25th Century where man has spread across the galaxy and fashion seemed to take a cue from science fiction in the 1920s. I provided the sarcastic commentary that leaned on the fourth wall while Lucy played the serious but adventurous one and Robert played the fussy voice of reason. The robots were there for comic relief. Jenni and Charlie dialed up the villainous ham to 11 and Brian cranked that dial past 15 whenever he appeared, and it was beautiful.
On a side note, Cheryl Henson led the costuming and through her I met my now-wife Ida, so yea, fond memories of it all.
So, the show is famous now for its sets, with their old-fashioned future aesthetic, and its effects, which used a lot of early computer effects and blue screens, which was a big thing for the day. Sure, they don’t all hold up today, but in 1990-92 it was pure gold. The sets were crazy, like something out of the original comics crossed with something out of the old Buster Crabbe serials. Even the most pedantic comics geeks, the type who bitched about Twiki, still loved the set design and costumes, both of which won Emmys.
But the craziest part was doing the effects. I’d done my share of practical effects and inadvertently consumed my share of red-dyed corn syrup over the years, but digital effects were new for me at the time. That meant lots of time spent in the “green box” and “blue box” as they called the effects studios[3]. And they were exactly what the name implied: wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling green and blue cloth, respectively, with practical sets built in. The studio space was in high demand so we had one day to film a season’s worth of rocket pack shots, and that meant getting belted in to all sorts of strange rigs and harnesses, one after another, divorced from the context of where they were script-wise. For some I’d jump and be yanked up by crew on ropes so I could fly straight up. For others I’d be set up to fly straight and level or do flips and spins. The ultimate one was the so-called “Christmas ornament”, which was developed for
Spiderman. Brian Henson would supervise as they locked me in and suddenly, I could flip and spin in three axes for when I needed to spiral out of control after a near miss blast, or something.
The craziest take was when I had to fly head first towards this green padded wall and then tuck and roll at the last second before kicking off into the opposite direction. I must have jammed my knee or face planted into the wall twenty times before we got four to five good takes. I ended up with rug burn on my nose. Then there were the closeups and all of the orphaned lines that went with them: “Roger, Star Command!” “Look out!” “I copy.” “On your six!” “A little help?” Lucy and Charlie would go through it all with me, taking turns with the various rigs and stations, always in the same room, rarely on the same scene at the same time. And when the rocket pack work was done it was into the fake cockpits for our space fighter scenes, which they’d shake and bounce while we spouted more orphaned lines: “Going into overdrive.” “Behind you!” “I got you covered, Wilma.” “First drink’s on you, pal!”
It was only months later after the other shots had been done and the computer nerds had done all the digital effects that I got to see the final results of all that crazy work. Remember than flip-and-kick? Well, now I’m rocketing away through the city, Killer Kane chasing me, and I’m dodging laser blasts. I fly straight towards a building, cut to a close up of my face and a shocked “yeeaaaahhh!” shriek, and then tuck, roll, and kick off of the building and rocket away in the opposite direction. Kane then crashes through the window and into the conference table of a business meeting, spits out a fragment of computer screen, and yells “next time, Rogers!” while shaking his fist.
Pure gold. I’ll take the rug burn for a shot like that any day.
With enough episodes in the can, we debuted in the spring of ‘90. We were run on CBS immediately after
Star Trek [The Next Generation] on PFN, figuring whoever watched that show could tune in to us next. The former also got its model effects from ILM, and
Ringworld over on HPTV got its alien effects from Disney’s Creatureworks, who did the robot and practical effects for us, so different teams of effects geeks in the same studios were trying to outdo one another as well. We struggled to find an audience, to be honest, so we moved to the new Fantasia Channel on basic cable for seasons 2 and 3. We were unfairly compared to the ’79 show, unfairly compared to
Star Wars thanks to the Lucasfilm connection, and unfairly compared to our direct competition
Star Trek and
Ringworld. But all that’s to be expected. You take your licks and keep moving forward.
But we had and still have a fanatical cult following. Sure, maybe the “Buckaroos” don’t fill up as many con seats as the Trekkies and Ringers, but you never saw a group have more fun with costuming or reenactments. The other day I saw a net video of some kids reenacting the flip-and-kick scene. Damn kids did it better than we did!
Lucy Liu of course went on to well-deserved stardom while Jenni Tilly’s career has been a lot like mine: a steady stream of small roles, some of which are beloved. I hear that she’s going into professional poker now. The poor bastards in Vegas won’t stand a chance.
Buck Rogers didn’t exactly pave my way to stardom, but it paid the bills and led to other opportunities. I still get some residuals from the replays and VCD sales and it’s always weird seeing the variety of fans that come to my con and bookstore appearances, Deadites and Jason fans mixing with Buckaroos and Bat-fans.
But in the end, I have a soft spot for
Buck Rogers. It was one hell of a ride and the Buckaroos are some of the best fans that you could ask for.
[1]
@cmakk1012 called it!
[2] Lorraine Williams, who by this point has left the Marvel board and become a VP for Disney’s publishing group.
[3] It’s worth noting that Disney was actually an industry leader in chromakey effects in the 1960s, in particular Petro Vlahos’s
Sodium Vapor camera, a revolutionary leap in chromakey that won the effects Oscar for Mary Poppins, but alas could never be duplicated. Technical improvements in the cheaper blue screen eventually rendered it obsolete. Here Disney Studios in partnership with Imagineering are retaking the effects mantle. More on this soon.