Misfits of Science

I got just two words to say to you, baby, and those are: Courteney, followed by Cox.

(It’s that combination that just keeps the smile on my face.)

To quote that sage and poetic philosophical heavyweight Tim McGraw: “I like it, I love it, I want some more of it!”

I don’t suppose I’m supposed to so flagrantly quote song lyrics, but I do so in the name of fair use, with the full knowledge that virtually no one will ever read this. And even if they do, and I get sued, there’s not a thing they can really take away from me that I haven’t already been divested of by Church, State, humankind, and the ways of an inscrutable God.

But to return: Courteney Cox is a great thing in a world—at least, a TV land—of many great and awesome things. And baby, in 1985, when she was still shaking her moneymaker with The Boss in the “Dancing in the Dark” video on Em-Tee-Vee, she was, like—well—hot as a patch of Texas asphalt. Emphasis on the first syllable in ASSphalt.

And she was in this forgotten Eighties gem, which is like a superhero thing that is clearly subversive Commie propaganda, but is still a lot of fun.

Cut to the chase: Misfits of Science is like X-Men: a few Eighties mutant kids get together to fight crime. I think. Anyway, in this pilot they are all at some place called “Humanidyne,” or some such, and this is a lab run by a doctor, "Billy Hayes", played by Dean Paul Martin, who makes giant bunnies with his buddy, Dr. Elvin "El" Lincoln—a Manute Bol wannabe who can ridiculously shrink himself down to The Littles size, because he mainlined the bunny growth serum. (Portrayed by Kevin Peter Hall.)

They resurrect some dude, "Beifneiter" (Mickey Jones) who is over a hundred years old and was cryogenically frozen, although I don’t think this was ever explained. He stumbles around looking like Mr. Freeze from Batman, and yelling “Amelia!” in a manner that suggests ghosts and is actually somewhat unnerving. He has icicles on his beard and stuffs frozen candy bars.

Another mutant lad, “Johnny B.,” (Mark Thomas Miller) likes rock 'n’ roll and is a generic adaptation of Rob Lowe in St. Elmo’s Fire. He lives out in the desert, can move faster than The Flash, and—inexplicably—can shoot lightning bolts from his hands. Yes, his very hands!

Then there’s Courteney, who is a semi-feral but cute-as-a-button, punky, spunky, funky monkey in a youth detention facility, who is telekinetic. We first see her crouched in the shadows, feral, animal-like. The look on her face is dour, scared, confused. We’re totally turned on, in every way imaginable.

They all get together with the basketball-playing leader of the “Human Investigation Division” at Humanidyne, and they steal an ice cream truck and crash the party at a government facility to release some scientist that wicked old Uncle Sam has taken hostage, while Johnny B. shoots lightning bolts out of his ass and Courteney Cox (I just love saying that: Courteney Cox, Courteney Cox, Courteney Cox) juggles MPs with her telekinetic mojo. (I grew up on military bases, by the way. According to my father, the soldiers had a private joke among themselves which went, “You can’t spell wimp without MP! Har-har!)

All of this is to stop the UNITED STATES from developing a new laser to blow Commie nukes out of the skies. Kind of like Israel’s Iron Dome defense system. I think. Anyway, why the “heroes” of this particular show want to stop this is never made clear, but the fact that the U.S. military—and particularly the “Evil General” walking trope played by Larry “MASH” Linville (who always looked perfect in Army greens)—is portrayed as the villains here must have amused Moscow no end in that bygone, Cold War era.

I’m not clearly remembering how it all ended, but it was sort of a fun romp, although the weird, pinko political subplot—clearly a nod to Marcuse, except with mutants and Courteney Cox—tarnishes it and makes it, “meh.”

Special effects: decent and what you’d expect for 1985. New Wave soundtrack. Set-up for a whole fourteen more episodes. Not groundbreaking in the same way as the equally short-lived Max Headroom, it manages to really make the idea of slogging through the requisite three episodes seem a trifle wearisome.

But then I think of Courteney, “palpating me with fingers of rotten ectoplasm.”

Actually, one should never combine thoughts of the beautiful with anything borrowed from William S. Burroughs.

Nonetheless...

Written and directed by James D. Parriot, subsequent episodes seemingly starred Max "Alf" Wright, a fact that makes me vaguely uneasy, but, there it is.

Misfits of Science S01E01 Deep Freeze Pilot

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My book: Cult Films and Midnight Movies: From High Art to Low Trash Volume 1.

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