While the 1960s gave the world the innovation and brilliance of Star Trek, Doctor Who, and The Outer Limits — along with groundbreaking books like Dune — it wasn’t until the 1970s that all that science fiction truly jumped to the mainstream. Star Trek was largely to thank for this shift; the show hit syndication in the early 1970s after its cancellation in 1969 and spawned a fandom larger than the literary geeky establishment of the time. But what would step into Star Trek’s stylish space boots in the 1970s? By 1977, the answer was clear: Star Wars redefined the mainstream nature of sci-fi forever. But before that, in 1975, one strange series — intentionally or not —briefly became the Star Trek of the 1970s.
That show was Space: 1999, an underrated and odd series that, in some alternate dimension, might have enjoyed a longer run and a larger fandom today. On September 5, 1975, the series blasted the Moon out of Earth’s orbit and briefly ruled sci-fi conversations everywhere.
Created by Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, the premise of Space: 1999 is somewhat simple; in the year 1999, Commander Koenig (Martin Landau) takes over Moonbase Alpha, and then, all hell breaks loose. Because of a massive nuclear accident, the entire Moon is flung out of Earth’s orbit, turning all the inhabitants of the base into unwilling astronauts. In Space: 1999, we’re not following the voyages of the Starship Enterprise, but instead, the Moon itself is the spacecraft, rolling through the cosmos, encountering all sorts of kooky sci-fi plot devices. Space:1999 doesn’t have any teleportation, but the base is equipped with reconnaissance spacecraft called “Eagles.” These ships were designed by Brian Johnson, who would later work on The Empire Strikes Back.
The idea that Space: 1999 was a sci-fi show with a home base and smaller craft that could be sent out to do the exploring was a great formula, one that was used to great effect by both versions of Battlestar Galactica (1978 and 2003) as well as Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (1993). The show was also accidentally prescient about the use of personal communication devices as a catch-all device to do everything. Most Alphans on the base each have a clunky video communicator called a CommLock. This is a gizmo that lets them all FaceTime with each other, but also unlocks various doors on their Eagles and on Moonbase Alpha. Is that so different than an iPhone?
But beyond any of its quirkiness or 1970s production design, the most interesting thing about Space: 1999 is that, historically, it was, for a brief time, one of the most hotly debated and talked-about science fiction shows within fandom. In the May 1977 issue of Starlog (on newsstands a month before Star Wars), one of the biggest topics discussed and dissected in the magazine is Space: 1999. This issue is fascinating because it represents a version of sci-fi fandom unaware that the entire popular form of the genre is about to change, and is instead focused on whether or not Space:1999 can carry on the flame of Star Trek.
“I personally think it is better than Star Trek,” wrote Sean Mitchell to Starlog, before making an incredible pivot. “The problem with 1999 is not that it has no stories...The problem is the lines!”
This criticism was echoed by another fan named Richard S. McEnroe in the same issue: “The writing for Space: 1999 scales the heights of mediocrity.” This interesting turn of phrase suggests that something mediocre can also be very large and tall, which, in an accidental way, does describe what makes Space: 1999 such a puzzle. In terms of sci-fi stories, this show has it all: time travel, doppelgängers, alternate dimensions, and, notably in the second season, a shapeshifter who joins the cast in the form of Maya (Catherine Schell), an alien known as a Metamorph. But do any of the stories truly stand out? Do any of the scripts reach the level of 1960s Star Trek or 1970s Doctor Who?
This is where Sean Mitchell’s letter to Starlog in 1977 was 100 percent right: It’s not the stories, it's the lines, or rather, more specifically, the characters who deliver the lines. The show famously starred Martin Landau and Barbara Bain, after they left their roles on the original Mission: Impossible. Both are, of course, fantastic actors, but in Space: 1999, their characters — Commander John Koenig and Helena Russell — are cold, stiff, and calculating folks. If you’ve heard people criticize Star Trek: The Next Generation for just being a sci-fi show where people sit around and talk about space problems, Space: 1999 is a show in which that really does happen. Frequently. This isn’t to say it’s bad, but in a way, Space: 1999 was the anti-Star Trek, because The Original Series was an action-adventure show first, and a thoughtful sci-fi show second. Space: 1999, at least at first, was the opposite.
Ironically, for its second and final season, Space: 1999 got a new showrunner in the form of Fred Freiberger, the same controversial producer who helmed Star Trek’s final season, which concluded in 1969. At some point, yours truly has claimed that Season 2 of Space: 1999 is better than Season 1, but upon revisiting standout Season 1 episodes like “Dragon's Domain” and “Another Time, Another Place,” that assessment feels wrong.
While Season 2 has more traditional sci-fi fare like “Seed of Destruction” (Koenig is replaced by an evil duplicate!), the better episodes of Season 1 are contemplative in a very specific, weird way. Unlike a classic Star Trek episode, the better Space: 1999 episodes tend not to try to jam too much explanation or thematic meaning into the ending of each story.
Case in point: In “Dragon’s Domain,” one crew member, Tony Cellini (Gianni Garko), is haunted by memories of a horrible space monster who murdered various colleagues in the past. Now he’s seeing the monster again. Is he hallucinating? Does the monster have hypnotic powers? Can he be saved? The answers are: Kind of. Maybe. And no. All of which creates a highly enjoyable sci-fi horror story that also has an oddly downbeat ending. The same is true of “Another Time, Another Place,” in which the crew encounters a double of the Moon and future versions of themselves. Could this be one possible future? Is there a time paradox involved here? Honestly, don’t worry about it and don’t think about it too much.
The key to enjoying and truly understanding Space: 1999 is that the best aspects of the show are utterly atmospheric. Unlike Star Trek of the 1960s, Space: 1999 is not greater than the sum of its parts, but its parts do create a kind of ASMR version of science fiction, the sort of thing that can relax you and make you think, but not give you all the answers. It's soothing, it's strange, and it's unlike any sci-fi show ever. Except, of course, it's also exactly like every sci-fi show ever, which is why it was almost, but not quite, a classic.
