There were two preambles that I learned in my childhood. One was to the Constitution of the United States and the other one was from the Buck Rogers TV show. Both are historically and culturally significant. One hasn’t aged so well and is kind of irrelevant now. Sorry, Constitution but Buck Rogers rules in all its tight spandexed glory. Cue the music!
The year is 1987 and NASA launches the last of America’s deep space probes. In a freak mishap, Ranger 3 and its pilot, Captain William ‘Buck’ Rogers, are blown out of their trajectory into an orbit which freezes his life support systems and returns Buck Rogers to Earth 500 years later…
In the late ‘70s, pop culture was gripped by two major phenomena: disco and Star Wars. TV impresario Glen A. Larson (of Battlestar Galactic, Knight Rider, and BJ and the Bear fame), decided to capitalize on both and begat Buck Rogers in the 25th Century. I was in fifth grade at the time and deep in a post-Star Wars haze. My eyeballs were gobbling up all the sci-fi they could absorb and they soon settled on Buck Rogers.
After Star Wars made boffo box office, TV and movie producers everywhere hopped on the sci-fi bandwagon. They started churning out imitations and dreamed of wheelbarrows full of that sweet Star Wars cash. Glen A. Larson’s first attempt at luring audiences away from that galaxy far, far away was Battlestar Galactica. It premiered on ABC in 1978 with killer robots, spaceships, and cool dudes in suede jackets. This series was legendary!
And it was the closest thing to Star Wars that little kid me could find on our ginormous cabinet-style TV. This show was the antidote for everyone who was jonesing for a sci-fi fix, but it wasn’t sustainable. At the time, Battlestar Galactica was like the most expensive TV show ever made. It even boasted effects from some of the same wizards who had made Star Wars. The cost of all that eye-popping spectacle overwhelmed this ambitious space saga.
It imploded after one season. Not to be denied, Larson packed up all the accoutrements and wandered over to NBC Studios. He pitched Buck Rogers as TV’s answer to Han Solo. The show was based on a 1929 comic strip created by Philip Francis Nowlan and Dick Calkins. Buck was originally an Air Force pilot who awoke from a 500-year hibernation to defend America from space invaders.
The strip is said to have popularized spaceships, robots, and ray guns in the public consciousness. Buck went on to appear in comic books, radio series, a film serial, and short-lived TV series in the ‘50s. He was ripe for a comeback in the late seventies. Buck Rogers in the 25th Century was a phoenix rising from the ashes of Battlestar Galactica. This time Larson was much more budget conscious.
Instead of world-building, most of this new show looked like matte paintings or the studio backlot. And costumes, props, and sound effects were unapologetically recycled from BSG. Where Starbuck and Apollo were warriors in an epic story of humanity’s escape from their robot oppressors, Buck Rogers was just “Burt Reynolds in space.”
Whereas BSG felt timeless, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century pulsated with late ’70’s energy. Star Gil Gerard was Aqua Velva in human form, bringing old-school machismo to the far future. The show kicked off with a two-hour movie that was released in theaters first. After becoming a modest success, the concept was quickly adapted for TV. The movie is much more polished than the series, but it’s unmistakeably a sign of its times. It’s Disco Star Wars.
I remember making my dad take me to see it during a Saturday matinee and sinking into my seat during the cringy opening credits scene. The movie starts with Buck’s historic rocket launch into deep space, but he’s soon trapped in an anomaly that puts him in suspended animation. The credits roll during a surreal sequence representing Buck’s subconscious as he dreams away for five centuries. And this dude has a one-track mind.
While the titles roll, Buck makes out with a bevy of lovely ladies as a cheesy ballad about being lost in time plays in the background. It’s got a pseudo James Bond opener thing going on. For pre-teen me sitting next to my conservative dad in a dark theater, it was a festival of awkward. Just bring on the spaceships already.
Buck’s drifting ship is discovered by the Draconians, an alien envoy on the way to Earth for trade negotiations. This being the seventies, the aliens are all humanoid and look like they’re headed to a Halloween party at Studio 54. They revive Buck but he’s a little loopy coming out of hibernation so all he does is giggle and make eyes at the comely Princess Ardala. The Draconians send him on his way. They are planning a secret invasion and want to use Buck to test Earth’s defenses.
Buck’s ship is intercepted by the Earth Defense Directorate during his descent. The fighter squadron is led by Colonel Wilma Deering, played by Erin Gray. Wilma’s a no-nonsense soldier who also rocks some super skintight jumpsuits. Her outfits in this show probably kickstarted puberty for a whole generation of dudes. Despite being poured into her costumes, Wilma was more than just steely sex appeal.
She was totally kickass and the most memorable character from this movie and subsequent series. Gray was one of my first celebrity crushes and I eagerly followed her trajectory from Buck Rogers to Silver Spoons and then on to the Kenny Rogers NASCAR flick Six Pack. Gray’s characters started my infatuation for tough ladies onscreen (Charlize Theron in Atomic Blonde and Fury Road, for example).
In Buck Rogers, Gray’s Wilma plays Buck’s wingman and possibly more, depending on the episode. During the movie, she starts out suspicious of his motives, but eventually warms to his 20th Century charms. Buck adapts to this strange new world and helps the Earthlings figure out the true intentions of the Draconians. But before he can sneak aboard their starcruiser and uncover the invading armada, he has to bust a move.
During a formal banquet welcoming Princess Aradala to Earth, Buck hijacks the stuffy futuro house band and gets them to embrace their inner groove thing. The result is some serious funky jams as he teaches the entire 25th Century how to boogie. “It’s called getting down. It’s okay if it frightens you” is a line that has lived rent-free in my noggin since 1979. Like I said, Buck Rogers is Disco Star Wars.
In case, there’s any doubt, check out the other disco scenes that pop up throughout the first season. Buck has some serious Saturday Night Fever for a guy who’s supposed to be from the late ‘80s. After a solid movie debut, he settled into a weekly routine on NBC. After saving Earth from the Draconians, Buck was recruited by some kind of intergalactic spy agency. Future episodes played out like sci-fi versions of Mission: Impossible.
He battled terrorists, megalomaniacs, space vampires, and Jack Palance. Buck was aided on these missions by Wilma and his two robot sidekicks: Twiki and Dr. Theopolis. Twiki reminds me of R2D2 if he had arms and legs and was voiced by Mel Blanc. Theo would be C-3PO if he was like that giant clock that Flavor Flav always wore around his neck.
Tiki would sputter “bidi bidi bidi” and drop one-liners like a bad vaudeville comedian, which was supposed to be comic relief, but really it was just annoying. If famous sci-fi robots were a sports team, Twiki would be the waterboy. Buck Rogers lasted two seasons on NBC before it was canceled and abandoned. You can catch old episodes now on NBC.com and Amazon Prime.
The first season is cheesy fun with guest appearances by Jamie Lee Curtis and Gary Coleman. The action in the second season moves off planet, assigning Buck and Wilma to a starship so the show became a half-assed imitation of Star Trek. The only good thing about the second season is that Thom Christopher joined the cast as Hawk, a badass birdman who becomes Buck’s new best bud. This development, however, relegated Wilma to a thankless role as what can only be described as a space stewardess.
Such a disservice fed into the show’s ultimate demise. Season Two went down in flames after multiple cringeworthy chapters, including one with horny telepathic space gnomes and another where everyone turned into centaurs. I prefer the first season when the cast sports white spandex and fights guys called Tiger Man. During any given episode, perceptive viewers can also spot props repurposed from Battlestar Galactica.
The Buck Rogers movie and subsequent TV show do share a special place in my heart. It’s a treasured time capsule, recalling an age before CGI when all sci-fi needed was tight costumes, big helmets, and funny robots. Buck Rogers was a product of a Hollywood so fixated on finding the next Star Wars that they didn’t stop to think about what made that film so successful. It has all the elements but none of the magic of that galaxy far, far away.
Buck Rogers in the 25th Century does have something that Star Wars never did. It boasted some truly phenomenal disco moments. That scene when Buck and Princess Ardala trip the light fantastic was a seminal moment in my fledgling relationship with my lovely bride. During a quiet date night at home, I treated her to Chinese takeout and a screening of this flick.
We settled in for a movie and a snuggle when I unexpectedly dozed off during the space disco number. Unable to turn off the show because I was sleeping on the remote, my love endured the remainder of Buck’s exploits alone, accompanied by the soundtrack of my light snoring. This could be why she has no patience for me when I give her my bedroom eyes and say “It’s called getting down. It’s okay if it frightens you.”
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Author: Jeff Stanford
Nerd Dad who loves his family, coffee and movies.
