Catacombs Reference LibraryThe Little Convention That Could
Catacombs Reference LibrarySci-Fi Universe, January 1996; p78-79
A sample of some irony at this summer's Space: 1999 convention: in lieu of real- live, up-front and in-your- face appearances by series stars Martin Landau, Barbara Bain and Barry Morse, fans instead were treated to a family-style photo album display featuring pictures of Martin Landau, Barbara Bain and Barry Morse as they looked at past cons.
We should add that this kind of cheesy exhibit isn't at all a bad thing. Rather it reflects the low-key, unpretentious-and lovably scrappy-nature of Command Conference '95, held July 22-23 at the Sheraton Hotel in Norwalk, California.
The top-line stars can't make it? No problem. Command Conference is going on anyway-because as con organizer Debbie Phares said, "If anybody's going to keep the conventions going, it's going to be the fans. "
After hanging around for an afternoon at Command Conference, you really do start to believe in the power and commitment of Space: 1999 fans. (Okay, you also start to question their judgement- but you do that a little at any genre convention, right?) Some travelled from as far away as England to be in Southern California with fellow aficionados of a show that, once it completed its 48-episode syndicated run in 1976, virtually disappeared from TV in many parts of the country until its recent revival on the Sci-Fi Channel. How do you keep the passion burning for a show you may know in memory only? You just do.
And maybe because of the genuine ardour displayed by these fans, plus the simple fact that the object of their loyalty has been so outflanked and overwhelmed in our popular culture by the Star Trek and Star Wars juggernauts, the Space: 1999 Command Conference took on the airs of the little convention that could.
Now, if you're the type who only does those Creation-sponsored Trek uber-cons, you might have had a little trouble adjust- ing your phasers to the more provincial ways of Command Conference.
First things first: Forget San Francisco or New York or even Pasadena. Command Con was held in that notable City of Lights, Norwalk, a/k/a gateway to Bellflower. Second things second: Instead of Stars! Stars! Stars! and Fans! Fans! Fans!, Command Con attendees got to rub uniform patches with one co-star, congenial Australian-born actor Nick Tate who played Capt. Alan Carter ("I'm here because I'm out of work, " he joked.), and about five dozen fans. And third things third: The whole thing took place in two office-sized rooms-one for the three memorabilia dealers and one for the main events (i.e., seeing Nick Tate, watching videos, holding a charity auction, etc.).
But here's the great thing-the 60 or so Space: 1999 die-hards who paid the $15-a-day ticket prices for the sci-fi fest didn't seem to mind the lack of bells and whistles and Martin Landau. They welcomed the con for what it was: a coming together of fans (plus Nick Tate!) to honour a series that, at times, has had about as high a profile as the lost city of Atlantis. Every time you turned on the TV you saw Star Trek, " Debbie Phares said. "Every time you turned on the TV, you didn't see Space: 1999.")
"Ten people or 50 people, it's still worth it," said Command Con attendee Bruce Ferguson. Ferguson, 31, a truck driver and carpenter from New Jersey, flew more than 3,000 miles to be in Norwalk with fellow fans of a show he loved in his youth, and only a few years ago rediscovered through the Sci-Fi Channel repeats. "l had to be here, " Ferguson added.
Chris Paulsen, also 31, of Los Angeles, said he was, in fact, pleasantly surprised by the convention turnout. Said the English teacher: "l wasn't expecting anybody." Phares said the idea behind the convention was to let people know "you're not the only fan out there."
If you're a fan of Space: 1999 and have, indeed, held that mistaken belief, it may be because time has not been especially kind to the series. When the Gerry (Thunderbirds) Anderson series debuted in the United States in 1975, it featured a big-name cast, big-time sets and a big- time budget. Not surprisingly, then, the first Space: 1999 convention, held in Columbus, Ohio, in 1978, was a big deal, attracting hundreds of fans, Phares said. But by 1992, convention attendance had dwindled considerably. The organizers, The Space: 1999 Alliance, announced the 1992 con would be the last. "Everybody was like, 'Huh? No more conventions? What are we going to do?,'" Phares said.
Phares, 38, decided to take on the con mantle herself. "1 want people to come here and know what Space: 1999 is," she said. And thus, after about a year-and-a-half of organizing efforts, Command Conference was born. For a first-timer in the con-making world, the Texas-based Phares confronted some predictable troubles: How to get the word out? How to attract dealers? How to snag the stars? Clearly, not everything was resolved, although by Day One of Command Con, Phares was still holding out slight hope that Barbara Bain, who played Dr. Helena Russell, might show up. ("There's a 20 to 30 percent chance we could hear from [her]." No such luck. Bain was a no-show. But Phares wasn't bitter, commenting that Bain "is very nice, very friendly.")
Martin Landau, Bain's ex-husband who won a best supporting actor Oscar last April, also didn't attend. "He has so many offers," Phares said, noting that Landau was overseas in July filming a live-action version of Pinocchio with Home Improvement star Jonathan Taylor Thomas.
In the Small Victories department, Barry Morse, who casual observers of the series might remember as the older scientist gentleman with the gigantic, bushy sideburns, couldn't make it, either- but he did send a handwritten letter apologizing for his absence and wishing the con-goers well. (This prized artefact, drafted on a light-blue piece of paper, was displayed in the dealers' room.)
So, the Command Con wasn't exactly a galaxy of stars. But it was a convention. And as a convention (however small), it did convention-like things. Witness:
The aforementioned Nick Tate entertained the first-day Command Con attendees with more than two hours of reminiscences about Space: 1999, as well as tales of assorted career and life achievements. The audience members, so eager for a meeting with an authentic 1999 crew member, embraced Tate and Tate embraced them right back. (This is figuratively speaking, of course. There was no hugging, although Tate did graciously pose for snapshots with fans.)
Tate was a good, if a not terribly linear, storyteller. In his easygoing manner, he spoke about several topics, including his Baha'i faith, his new-found career as a voice-over artist for motion picture trailers, the cancerous melanoma on his foot that threatened his life in the late 1970s ("l don't know why I told you that") and a few Meryl Streep anecdotes. (He worked with the actress on the 1988 film A Cry in the Dark.)
Tate elicited one of the loudest responses from the 1999 fans when he ripped Fred Frieberger, who produced the show's second, final and generally less- acclaimed season. Sci-fi fans may also know Frieberger as the guy often blamed for running Star Trek into the ground during that show's third and final season ("Spock's Brain," anyone?). The Command Con-goers certainly knew who Frieberger was, and when Nick Tate declared, "l didn't like that man," the 40 or so assembled fans cheered and applauded.
Later, Tate said he attends the Space: 1999 cons (never charging an appearance fee) out of respect for the loyalty and dedication displayed by the series' fans. "l think it's only we Space: 1999 people who hold [the show] with such reverence," the actor said.
Some guy showed up in costume. Well, at least, half a costume.
Since attendance at the con didn't approach the hundreds, much less the thousands, you'd think the odds of some- body actually showing up in Moonbase Alpha wear would be rather slim. But David Smith, 35, of San Bernardino, Calif., beat the house.
Smith, sitting in the main room during Day One of the Command Conference, became a mini-celebrity among fellow fans who snapped away pictures of the self-described "con slut" in his homemade Space: 1999 shirt. (His pants were strictly civilian.) Smith said the shirt, similar to one worn by Landau's Commander John Koenig character, was pieced together back in the late 1970s. It fit better when he was 17 years old, he said.
For those wanting to get a more authentic look at the show's unisex uniforms, collector Roger Sides lent his stash of Rudi Gernreich-designed Space: 1999 duds to the con's display room for the weekend. The uniforms on exhibit were worth about $12,000, according to Sides, proving that Space: 1999 is still worth more than one would think on the open market.
When Command Conference '95 came to a close, Debbie Phares was happy with the show she'd put on. She said she was glad she'd done it. And she'd do it again.
Top honchos in the Space: 1999 fan network are already talking about holding the next convention in September 1999. That con ideally would coincide with the month and year that the fictional characters of Space: 1999 were blasted out of Earth's orbit.
Space: 1999 copyright ITV Studios Global Entertainment