It Came From the Basement: Mission Stardust
By John Seal
June 4, 2004
Mission Stardust (1968 ITA-BRD-ESP-MON)
Rhino 5909
The story: Khrest and Thora are representatives of the great Arkonide empire sent on a mission to save their race from looming extinction. When their space cruiser crash lands on Earth’s Moon, it’s up to granite-jawed space jockey Perry Rhodan to investigate whilst staving off the machinations of a criminal mastermind out to exploit the Moon’s rich mineral resources.
The film: Coming at the end of the brief spaghetti science fiction cycle of the mid-1960s, Mission Stardust (released in Italy as 4...3...2...1...Morte) is a less than faithful adaptation of the first novel in the still ongoing Perry Rhodan pulp series. Now running literally into the thousands of volumes, the series was briefly translated into English by Wendayne Ackerman (late wife of imagi-movie maven Forrest J. Ackerman) and published by America’s Ace Books in the 1970s. The titular character was introduced as a lowly Major in the United States Department of Space Explorations and over the course of the series became the self-styled ‘Peacelord of the Universe’ until—after 130 episodes—the series stopped English publication.
The books initially concentrated on the Earthbound political upheavals exacerbated by the arrival of space aliens in our solar system, with the Cold War tensions between the Soviet Union, China, and the United States still unresolved. The film excises most of those themes and instead focuses on the interaction between Rhodan’s crew and the Arkonides, and adds an intrigue subplot about a super criminal that doesn’t appear in the novel (printed in America as Enterprise Stardust in 1969). No doubt grafted on to appeal to the crowds of moviegoers still excited by any hint of Bondsian spyjinks, it’s a dull and unnecessary addition to the story.
The film starts briskly with a prime slice of colorful ‘60s music by composer Anton Abril, accompanied by Marcello Giombini’s wordless song ‘Seli’ and some suitably out there psychedelic opening credits that would have passed muster as part of the light show at The Avalon Ballroom. Once the music and credits pass, however, we’re abruptly reminded of the film’s low budget roots thanks to some poorly duplicated stock footage of rockets blasting off and low budget special effects. Sent to the moon to investigate the possibilities of economic exploitation, Rhodan is surprised to discover visitors from a far distant star system. After being confronted by a very cool looking robot (who looks like a cross between Klaatu and The Man From Planet X), our intrepid Earthmen meet Khrest, a scientist with a plummy British accent, and Thora, the expedition’s commander and a platinum blonde with an eye-catching wardrobe of skintight spacesuits. Thora is arrogant and pushy, treating the astronauts with the disdain their immature race deserves, but the humble Khrest is ill and in need of medical attention—which, by happy coincidence, the Earthmen can offer, if Khrest is willing to take a trip to East Africa. Cue a return to a budget friendly Earth, where the deserts of Spain fill in for East Africa, which was in turn subbing for the Gobi Desert setting of the original book.
Meanwhile back on Earth, the evil ‘Mr. Arkon’ is plotting with his henchmen to get their fingers in the Moon pie before Terra’s greedy governments beat them to it. He’s an effete villain whose lap dog, a tiny pug, could have served as inspiration for Dr. Evil’s hairless Sphynx, Mr. Bigglesworth. After getting his nails manicured by a subservient East Indian maiden, Arkon insinuates his agent aboard Rhodan’s ship, setting in motion the plot devices leading to the climactic final reel struggle between the forces of good and evil.
Filled with outrageous costumes, dubbed dialogue, groovy music, a gorgeous woman, and cheesy special effects (the wire work is obvious, the matte work terrible, and the lunar rover looks like a cucumber on wheels), Mission Stardust is ultimately cut from the same comic book cloth as better films like Mario Bava’s Danger: Diabolik (1968) or Antonio Margheriti’s Wild, Wild Planet (1965). It also features a healthy dollop of sexual innuendo completely absent from the novel, as Rhodan immediately begins flirting with Thora and by film’s end has bedded her—off screen, of course (in the pulp series, Rhodan and Thora wed, but only after another forty or fifty volumes of sniping at each other). The film fades out as Rhodan emerges from his space boudoir, declaring “the experiment has begun!”
The cast and crew: Perry Rhodan fans would expect their hero to be portrayed by a hyper-masculine actor oozing testosterone, and jut-jawed Lang Jeffries, a Canadian thespian working in Europe since 1961, fit the bill perfectly. Jeffries, who specialized in spy films, worked on the continent until the early ‘70s, after which he returned to North America and went into semi-retirement until his death in 1987. Thora is portrayed by the beautiful Essy Persson, a Swedish model who mostly worked in nudie films for directors Radley Metzger and Joe Sarno, and the cerebral Khrest was portrayed by John Karlsen, an Italian actor seen most recently in 2003’s Vatican horror opus The Order. Karlsen has also worked with Fellini, Polanski, and Corman at various points in his lengthy career. Bad guy Arkon is played by the memorable Gianni Rizzo, who wound up his film career as a papal envoy in Jean-Jacques Annaud’s 1986 puzzle piece, The Name of the Rose.
This was director Primo Zeglio’s penultimate film. Zeglio generally directed spaghetti westerns and costume dramas, and this is his only science fiction work. Co-writer Sergio Donati is best known as a Sergio Leone collaborator who worked with the husky director on A Fistful of Dollars, Once Upon A Time In the West, and Duck, You Sucker! The balance of the crew consists of Eurotrash veterans whose names will mean next to nothing to most American filmgoers.
Nostalgia value: If there’s one thing Mission Stardust has in spades, it’s kitsch. One look at Essy Persson in one of her space travel cat suits will be enough to send even the most feeble man’s heart racing, and Jane Fonda’s Barbarella can’t hold a candle to her. Fans of lounge and film music will be in awe of Anton Abril’s score.
The print: Rhino’s print is a bit washed out and suffers from a number of jumpy reel transitions. The major problem, though, is the severely compromised cinematography, which has been poorly pan and scanned from a 2.35:1 Techniscope print. Actually, calling this a pan and scan print is praise this doesn’t deserve, as the Telecine operator seems to have set his or her sights on the center of the frame and walked away for a long lunch break. The print runs for 95 minutes and seems complete.
DVD prognosis: The film isn’t great, but the market for a restored widescreen DVD is certainly viable in Europe, where Rhodan books continue to sell by the bucketload. It’s a bit more problematic in the U.S., where the limited run of the books reflected a 1970s market much less interested in empire building and internationalism. Perhaps America’s newfound commitment to world conquest could reopen the English-speaking market for a film about a guy who basically knows what’s best for us, and does whatever it takes to prove his point. However, there’s no reason there shouldn’t be a PAL disc at some point, and hardcore American fans—of whom there are more than a few—would probably guarantee sales in the low five digits.
Ratings:
Film: B-. If you love cheesy old sixties movies, you’ll be satisfied with Mission Stardust. And Essy Persson makes it easy to forgive the film its many shortcomings.
Print: C. Watchable, but there’s a lot of work to be done to restore this to its original glory.
DVD worthiness: For Rhodan fans, an A. For everyone else, a C.
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