Space Precinct – 6. Body & Soul

I was optimistic going into Body & Soul. Last week’s episode, The Snake, was an absolute triumph in pretty much every department, gaining Space Precinct a jewel in its crown. Marc Scott Zicree and Sidney Hayers are back to write and direct this week, and I very much enjoyed their last offering, Enforcer. The majority of my praise for Enforcer lay in the story’s smaller scale and focus on a select few integral character arcs. Body & Soul certainly follows that pattern, featuring the smallest number of speaking roles out of any episode in the entire series.

But following The Snake was never going to be an easy task, and Body & Soul is a very different type of episode. Where The Snake had big stakes, tension at its core, and uncomplicated character arcs, Body & Soul offers moderate stakes, an unconventional structure, and grand existential questions about the nature of life and death. Is Space Precinct equipped to handle such a cerebral story? Or did The Snake prove that the series’ path to success lay elsewhere? Let’s dig into Body & Soul to find out.

Of course, when I use the word “cerebral” you probably don’t think of running down corridors, raging infernos, dodging space rocks, lightning attacks, and whacking great explosions… because Body & Soul does have all that as well. This is a Gerry Anderson production after all.

Body & Soul is the first episode to credit Bill Alexander for Live Action Design in addition to Tony Curtis. Alexander had previously been credited as Art Director for episodes 1-5. As we covered last week, Tony Curtis was no longer involved in the production from this point onward but still received credit for his work on the standing sets like the station house and Brogan apartment. Since Alexander was involved with the early episodes as Art Director, I don’t necessarily expect a massive shift in the look of the series now that he’s the Live Action Designer in place of Curtis. But you’ve heard me complain enough about the sets to know that I’m hopeful for improvement.

One other significant credit on this episode is the fact that Mark Harris was responsible for the original story idea. Harris was a longtime collaborator with Gerry Anderson, and has become one of the most respected art directors in the film industry. He left school at 15 to join the special effects team at Bray Studios working on Space: 1999, and then Terrahawks, before becoming Art Director for the Space Police: Star Laws pilot in 1986. Exactly how much of Body & Soul can be attributed to Mark Harris vs. Marc Scott Zicree I can’t say, but overall Harris’ impact on Space Precinct and the later Gerry Anderson productions cannot be underestimated.

Instead of Brogan and Haldane sitting in a police cruiser, this episode opens with Brogan and his son, Matt, sitting in their family car. I suppose that’s a nice change. Matt’s been out of the picture for significant portions of the last couple of episodes so while I would never say I missed him, I’ll just say that it’s not a total irritation to see him again. Sitting the two actors side-by-side, I do have to state once again how remarkably similar Ted Shackelford and Nic Klein look.

The setup is relatively simple. For a boys’ own adventure, Brogan has apparently paid an exorbitant amount of money to soup up the hopper and drag Matt out to look at Merlin’s Asteroid, which only turns up in Altor’s orbit once every 20 years. Matt isn’t keen because… well, he’s a teenager so that’s just his whole bit. Matt complains that he could have stared at a ball of ice by looking in the fridge. A very sharp joke, except asteroids are mostly balls of rock, not ice. Comets, on the other hand, tend to be icy – and indeed the original script did refer to the body as Merlin’s Comet, not Merlin’s Asteroid. Why the change? I don’t know, but the model makers definitely went for a more rocky aesthetic as a result.

The lads like what they see. This is nice. Patrick has been criticised in earlier episodes for not spending enough time bonding with Matt. So now he’s actually doing something about it. Character development! And it’s fun to see Brogan outside of work just having a little adventure, genuinely enjoying himself. In episodes like Protect and Survive, Brogan has been a fish out of water, a little uncomfortable with adapting to life on Altor. Today he’s taking steps to explore what this new planet has to offer, and doing so with a delightful sense of optimism. Much better than working a long day, coming home to his hideous yellow apartment, and arguing with his wife and kids about how dangerous their new hometown is.

Things start to go all wibbly. The hopper dodges some rock, a warning alarm sounds, and the camera operator starts shaking like a nervous puppy. Brogan gets serious and tells a concerned Matt to switch over to manual control. He does so, using the most uninspiring little switch on the dashboard that you’ve ever seen.

Turns out Brogan knew all along that there would be trouble and was only teasing Matt for a bit of fun. Ted Shackelford does everything he can to sell us on the joke, and I guess it works insofar as it’s the type of lame practical joke a dad probably would find hysterical. Brogan rattles off the scientific explanation – apparently something called Berkoff radiation interferes with computer systems, so the hopper’s autopilot was therefore destined to act up. Berkoff radiation? What next? An Ian McKellen quasar?

Our adventurers fly around to the part of the asteroid not visible from Altor. Because what could be more exciting than a big rock except for the other side of a big rock?

The surface of the asteroid has an icy flavour to it so I guess I’ll let Matt’s earlier comment stand. We see hints of derelict, man-made structures but don’t stop for a close look. The live action set for the hopper is a lot less impressive from the front… and it wasn’t that impressive to begin with.

Then the Brogan boys see something surprising. A drunken Officer Haldane stumbling about on the asteroid in stilettos, perchance?

Not quite. It’s a particularly weird-looking spaceship that’s crashed in the snow. And just like that, we’ve got a mystery to get our teeth into. Our first big dramatic moment of the episode and it didn’t take us too much waffle to get here. Colour me impressed.

Brogan attempts to make contact with the wrecked ship but with no response. Matt wants to take a look. Dad isn’t so sure. Matt says it’ll be fun. Dad is convinced. Father-son bonding time resumes.

Look at the consistency in the lighting between the live action set and the models. And the live action version of the hopper does actually seem to move ever so slightly when it’s supposed to be landing – or at the very least the camera moves in such a way to really convince me!

Air is automatically pumped into the room which is ruddy useful if you plan on doing any breathing.

Brogan climbs out of the hopper to investigate. He insists that Matt stays behind. Matt protests. Then Brogan says one of my favourite lines in the coolest possible way: “Matt, we play by my rules or we don’t play.” Yes! That’s the Brogan character in a nutshell. He’s 100% in charge and he’s up for taking risks, but he’s also fair, level-headed, and thoroughly responsible. Matt agrees to stay behind, but we all know what those pesky Brogan kids are like when it comes to obeying instructions.

Lieutenant Brogan’s garb consists of a leather jacket and what appears to be a Demeter City Police Department t-shirt. I don’t think there’s anyone alive who could look more like an off-duty police officer.

Jeans as well. Can’t forget to throw some denim in there.

What follows is Brogan doing what he does best… walking down dimly lit corridors pointing his gun at shadows. We all have our talents.

Many of these sets should be familiar to you from last week since they were originally built to serve as the interior of the Talon Princess from The Snake. They were shrouded in darkness last week, and they’re shrouded in darkness again this week, so it’s not even particularly noticeable that they’re the same sets. This tubular corridor just happens to be quite distinctive because it served as the automated travel tube system aboard the Princess.

Brogan finds a dusty old control panel and points his flashlight at it in that special way police officers do. Seriously, has a normal person ever held a flashlight upside down like that? Anyway, I think it’s about time we had a jump scare. It was bound to happen eventually so let’s just get it over with.

Brogan nearly shoots his kid. How adorable.

Yeah, yeah, we all knew Matt wasn’t going to stay in the hopper. We did this whole schtick with his sister Liz a couple of episodes back. The Brogans need to invest in some padlocked seat belts.

Matt’s permitted to stay provided he doesn’t touch anything.

He touches something. Forget seat belts, this kid needs a ruddy hearing aid.

It’s okay though. It was just the light switch. The cobweb-laden set actually looks pretty good. It’s nice to see a Space Precinct set with a bit of texture to it. The lads are having a grand old time too. Brogan jokes that they have enough power to fly the abandoned ship all the way back to Earth, and wonders whether Sally would mind them taking the trip. You remember Sally Brogan, right? She’s probably glued to the kitchen floor again.

Matt starts touching things again. It’s probably about time his luck ran out.

Turns out Sally was here all along.

Nah, I’m only kidding. It’s a random dead guy. Just a common or garden rotten fetid corpse that tumbles out of the closet and lands on Matt.

Matt rolls around on the floor, supposedly crushed by the corpse, trying to convince us that the body has some actual weight to it and isn’t just a prop. Some fast editing helps maintain the shock value of the moment without showing us too much of the dummy. Brogan lifts his kid out of danger like it was nothing because he’s such a gosh darn hero.

Matt swears to never disobey his parents again. Well that’s something. Then he admits he’s seen lots of dead bodies before. That certainly raised an eyebrow from me. But it turns out that it was just on TV and apparently the real life experience is much scarier. I like this because it goes in precisely the opposite direction to Liz Brogan’s “TV vs. real life” experience that she had in Flash, when she mostly found real police work to be no more daunting than watching it on television. I like that Matt, the slightly old kid, hasn’t been totally desensitized, even though he often acts like the tough guy.

Brogan might have seen a few more real-life dead bodies in his time, but by no means does he enjoy handling the corpse either. The hole in the shirt is plain to see, but we’ll linger on that bit of evidence later.

Instead, the boys turn their attention to getting the ship started again and flying it back to Altor. I love that Brogan tries, somewhat by accident, to keep the spirit of their boys’ own adventure alive.

Some time passes and just like that, the ship takes off. Oh. I assumed that would be difficult. Apparently not. Matt’s impressed though. Unfortunately the shot of the ship rising from the model set looks suspiciously like a technician just picking it up. It doesn’t have any of the weight or grandeur that one might expect from a huge spaceship blasting off for the first time in decades.

Once in-flight, the ship certainly looks pretty.

It’s finally time for us to check in with the 88th. It’s been nice to have some extra screen time with just Patrick and Matt Brogan, but I was definitely starting to miss my regular dose of DCPD action. Officer Haldane is there to take Brogan’s call about the suspected homicide, while the Altor equivalent of traffic cops are coming to handle flying the ship over for forensic analysis.

Using nothing but the power of sight, Matt identifies the ship as a Humes Interspace Prototype SK90. He’s a sharp one.

I hate to break the news, but something isn’t right about Rob Youngblood’s hair today. I can’t say what’s wrong, and it’s not for the whole episode, so just try not to let it distract you. Officer Castle has arrived to help dump some exposition. We learn that Alden Humes, the head of Humes Interspace, is a playboy jetsetter turned recluse, and therefore unlikely to co-operate with police knocking at his door.

As a self-proclaimed womaniser, Haldane compares himself to Humes. Officer Castle couldn’t look less comfortable. In fact, Simone Bendix seems visibly put out having to deliver the line, “In your dreams, Haldane.” I don’t blame her – it’s a terrible line – but was that really the best take they got?

Here’s a mighty impressive shot of the Humes Interspace offices, complete with a ship hurtling past just to really sell us on the idea that this is a tall, tall building.

The interior is a bit less impressive. That lamp in the corner is downright hideous. Rob Thirtle is back playing our main alien of the week – a Tarn named Dag Jomore. His so-called “underling” is played by new face Will Barton. From this episode until episode 14, The Witness, Barton was a member of the repertory cast of Space Precinct playing different guest roles from week to week. Since both characters are being revoiced, the dialogue between them is especially stilted and awkward.

The Humes Interspace logo on the wall looks like it was designed by an 8-year-old. Like so many things in Space Precinct, the logo transforms into a superimposed video screen. Incidentally, Humes Interspace is almost certainly a nod to Space Precinct Director of Photography, Alan Hume.

Officer Haldane sits uncomfortably close to the camera. I feel like my personal space has been invaded.

The words “used car salesman” almost certainly passed the lips of everyone involved in the design of the Dag Jomore mask and costume. The trouble is that it goes a bit too far beyond parody. Making a funny parody of an existing stereotype is all well and good, but without any subtlety the joke basically stops dead at, “oh yeah, he looks like a used car salesman.” It’s not even a look that particularly suits the character.

Anyway, Jomore offers to help the police and look into the company files on the missing prototype spaceship. He’s nervous and feigning ignorance throughout. Nobody with a suit that stripey can claim to be innocent of anything. Again, the character lacks subtlety so his crooked intentions are fairly obvious. We don’t know how exactly, but from the word go it looks like Jomore is up to something. Incidentally, the model on the desk behind him is one of fuel storage tanks seen during the climax of Protect and Survive.

Gary Martin essentially uses his Officer Beezle voice while dubbing the underling, which is really distracting. Jomore agrees that they will need to tell the big boss, the elusive Mr. Humes, about the police investigation. There’s a little bit of mystery and intrigue at play here – only a little bit though. I’m not exactly on the edge of my seat like last week.

Over on the SK90, things aren’t particularly exciting either. Matt merrily ponders showing the ship off to his friend, Inazy – the kid obsessed with glow-in-the-dark Greek theatre from Double Duty. I’m sure he’ll be most impressed.

Then, basically because the episode needed something interesting to happen, the ship’s self-destruct system activates and seals them in. The Brogan boys have one minute before the place blows up. That’s quite the injection of drama right there.

A nice intense burst of action as Brogan and young Matt struggle to escape. Our hero resorts to blowing holes in things with his trusty sidearm, whether it’s a door control panel or the door itself. It seems there’s nothing a simple police blaster can’t handle. The lads jump in the car, throw the hopper out of the hangar, and brace themselves for the big one…

Hopefully that oh-so-lovely green paintwork on the hopper doesn’t get scratched.

The explosion looks rather less convincing on the live action set, filmed at a totally flat angle.

A little shaken but basically fine, the Brogan boys head back to Altor. That was quite the adventure they ended up having!

Back on duty, Brogan is quick to highlight that all of the physical evidence pointing to the homicide is now gone. Suspicious much?

In the main part of the station house, Officer Castle is interviewing Matt about the experience. The blocking of this scene feels awkward with Castle hunched over and holding the recorder inches from Matt’s face. Why not pull up a chair and sit down?

Matt is being… well… weird. At first he doesn’t seem to understand why his testimony is being recorded at all. Then he asks if Castle has ever been shot. Then he asks to see her scars. I know young kids do just ask dumb stuff like that totally innocently but Matt’s supposed to be 14 here. There’s a creepy subtext to the request when it comes from a 14-year-old boy. And I have a horrible feeling that was intentional. Castle’s response doesn’t help. At best she’s embarrassed, and at worst she’s actually amused by it. All around, it’s just really yucky.

So while his son is letching at a colleague, Brogan is fizzing with anger about someone deliberately trying to blow him up. With a touch of wry humour, he accuses Haldane. That would certainly be a shocking twist.

Castle is delighted to learn that Matt has terrible personal hygiene. He hasn’t washed his hands since touching the dead body and she acts like it’s Christmas. Yes, because what this scene really needed was something more icky than a teenage boy asking a police officer to take off her clothes.

Ted Shackelford’s background acting during this scene is most enjoyable – I recommend studying his face as the forensic technician yells at Matt for wriggling his fingers during the scraping.

That clear plastic lid is instantly recognisable to me because it’s been yanked straight off a box for keeping floppy disks in.

While the science machine starts doing science stuff, everyone is terribly amused by Matt’s reaction to having bits of dead guy under his nails. So, the idea is that the machine will analyse the DNA and identify the corpse, despite all the other evidence getting toasted in the explosion. Hurrah for science, I guess.

While our heroes chat about next steps, I’m totally distracted by the poor actor playing the forensic trying to remove the rubber gloves which are stretched over the Tarn gloves they’re already wearing.

Some time later, Brogan and Haldane park up their police cruiser at Humes Interspace. In every other episode we’ve seen cars landing on top of buildings, but it’s ever so important that we establish the height of the skyscraper again, so instead they’ve landed at the bottom and take the elevator to the top. But it’s a talking elevator, and the officers quickly grow weary of the friendly robot voice. It’s a scene which reminds me strongly of the Thunderbirds episode The Duchess Assignment, which also features a lead character grumbling through a ride with a talking elevator. At least Brogan and Haldane have a view of… well, a green screen, let’s be honest – the blend of model set and live action doesn’t work because of the lack of depth.

Following their ordeal in the elevator, Brogan and Haldane look thirsty for blood.

Lieutenant Brogan is introduced to Dag Jomore and let’s just say nobody looks like they want to be there.

Like so many offices in Space Precinct, the set is basically just some walls crammed together to make the tiniest space possible, while second-hand furniture is scattered around to make the place look extremely un-futuristic. Jomore pulls up some schematics on the wall of the SK90 and, well… it looks a bit like a thingy.

Jomore reveals that the SK90 was indeed a prototype that was launched 20 years ago and got lost in deep space. It had no pilot, which raises a big question about the identity of the dead body.

Things turn ugly when Jomore refuses to let the officers speak to Mr. Humes. Brogan’s got a personal score to settle and I can believe it. Haldane certainly isn’t going to get in the way.

Jomore taps away at a keyboard. You would think they’d make larger keyboards for chunky-fingered Tarns.

Brogan and Haldane confer while they wait for their audience with Humes. Our clever Lieutenant Brogan reckons that the dead body was left on the SK90 and sent out into space 20 years ago in the hope no-one would find it. The pesky Berkoff radiation on Merlin’s Asteroid prevented anyone from sending the self-destruct signal until Brogan and Matt flew the ship clear. So, all this means that the person or persons responsible for all this are definitely at Humes Interspace. That narrows down the scope of the plot quite a bit, and we’re not even halfway through the episode. It’ll take something special to drag this one out to the full 43 minutes.

Alden Humes is revealed, standing behind the flimsy partition wall. He has a throne, but otherwise the room does little to suggest extraordinary wealth or status.

Humes is played by Bob Sherman, a Californian actor who spent many years in Britain playing any role which called for an American. Gerry Anderson fans will recognise him from the UFO episode Close Up, and the Space: 1999 episode Dragon’s Domain. He appeared as Jeff Ross in 17 episodes of The Sandbaggers alongside Captain Podly himself, Jerome Willis.

Humes refuses to shake hands. We assume it’s because he’s an out of touch, germophobic weirdo. Of course, it’s actually just a set up for later.

The encounter between Humes, Brogan, Jomore, and Haldane is fraught to say the least. Sherman’s performance as Humes perfectly treads the line between out-of-touch and out-of-reality. He’s human, but only just. It’s obvious something isn’t right, but not so obvious that anyone in the room can call it out. For the moment we wouldn’t suspect him of being anything other than a socially stunted business executive. To the police officers, he’s as forthcoming as he needs to be and no more. Brogan gives away that the identity of the dead man will soon be determined in the forensic lab – a move which surprises Haldane.

With Humes denying any involvement, Brogan and Haldane leave with nothing but a sour taste in their mouths.

It turns out Brogan very deliberately told Humes and Jomore about the DNA scan in order to bait them. Clever… I think… I’m not sure…

Now here’s the twist. Jomore appears to switch off his boss with a remote control, before giving new instructions. So, Humes is not what he appears, and Jomore is definitely up to something deceptive. At first I was surprised they gave away this twist so early, but I suppose it’s only one part of the whole deal, so we still have lots of questions that need answering in the second half of the episode. This story is definitely taking a leisurely pace to unfold, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s intriguing even if it isn’t particularly exciting.

Back at the station house, Haldane is doing some very important police work… listening to Matt and Officer Castle’s earlier conversation about bullet wounds. Far from getting weirded out by the whole thing like I was, Haldane tries the same dirty trick with a suggestive, “you show me yours…” quip. This time around, Castle’s not impressed and storms off. Remember how the last episode ended with Jack being utterly charming and asking Jane out to dinner in thanks for saving his life? This week he’s using a chat-up line picked up from a 14-year-old boy. The inconsistency in this romance is a tad infuriating.

Meanwhile, Brogan is stuck talking to his family. Matt is impressed that his father has met Alden Humes and eagerly wishes to be adopted by the rich weirdo. Sally pops in to remind us all that she has a real job at the hospital, and therefore won’t be around for the rest of the episode. Young Liz is with her friend Sharla again, so we’ve dodged that bullet as well.

Then, we get this unexpected development. Like Emperor Palpatine before him, Alden Humes uses his lightning powers to wreck the DNA analyser. How did he get there? Why does he have lightning powers? Well, you’ll just have to stay tuned and find out after we fade to black for a commercial break… support to Security Hazard on Patreon.

By the time we fade back in, the whole room is on fire. The voice of the fire alarm sounds thoroughly disinterested in the situation, but Brogan and Haldane take it upon themselves to charge down the corridor and fight the blaze. Those guys are up for anything.

I’m sure Bob Sherman was delighted to stand in a small set made of the flimsiest wood and toxic-est plastic while it was pumped with flames and smoke.

Humes is visible for a split second and then vanishes, giving the character a ghostly edge. Brogan and Haldane let loose with the fire extinguishers and make relatively quick work of the spouts of flame which have been carefully positioned across the set to suggest a raging inferno.

Ted Shackelford is a very good actor because I can’t tell whether that cough is genuine or not. It becomes clear that nobody else saw Humes in the room except for Brogan, and there’s no possible way he could have escaped unnoticed. Quite the puzzle!

Haldane is very, very, very suspicious of Brogan’s claim. Jack’s just a country music loving, hot dog munching, woman bothering young man from Earth and he don’t believe in no superstitious nonsense.

It turns out that the forensic investigation was not interrupted one teeny tiny little bit by the lightning blast or the resulting fire. I guess we’re supposed to believe that Brogan and Haldane extinguished the blaze before it could do any real damage. Brave lads. We could well be in exactly the same laboratory that we just saw burning – it’s certainly the same set. The DNA evidence survived and it’s time to complete the analysis. The identity of the victim is about to be revealed!

The officers are horrified by the naff visual effects. It’s like every special effect from Windows Movie Maker applied all at once.

The moment definitely loses some dramatic tension because it looks so rubbish. Cutting out Bob Sherman’s promotional headshot and colouring it in does not qualify as a complex DNA analysis.

“It’s remarkable what science is capable of these days.” Unfortunately the same can’t be said of 1990s digital effects.

Just like that, Brogan is back to confront Humes with a simple question – what did he have for breakfast this morning… or for the last 20 years? It’s a head scratcher, that’s for sure.

Brogan pushes further. Humes has nothing. Jomore squirms.

The effect of Brogan’s hands passing through the projection of Humes is remarkably well done. Ted Shackelford is presumably standing in front of a green screen, but the lighting has been perfectly matched so he appears to be on the set with Bob Sherman.

Brogan asserts that Jomore killed Alden Humes and plopped his body on the SK90 never to be seen again. Jomore says otherwise. He claims that Humes is an eccentric who programmed the hologram simulation himself and disappeared to live out his days in secrecy on another planet.

Bob Sherman acts his heart out. It’s a wee bit melodramatic, but frankly so is learning that you’ve been dead for 20 years. I mean, how is an actor supposed to play a computer simulation that becomes self aware? It’s not exactly a relatable experience. I think Sherman succeeds at playing the betrayal and disappointment of the moment, even if it doesn’t particularly come across that he’s actually a computer program.

Brogan then reveals that Jomore has been using the projection of Humes to keep the Humes Interspace company running, and to do handy little things like starting the fire at the station house.

The officers twist the knife as they leave, joking about Humes Interspace collapsing when everyone finds out Alden Humes is a fake. I would laugh along with them, but poor Humes looks so, so sad.

The lads hop in the elevator and decide to listen to some music during their descent. Brogan asks for “Sweet Mystery.” I don’t know what that is, and we don’t get to hear it, but the expression on their faces suggests it’s a pretty rad tune.

The gloves are off… because we’re not being at all subtle with our symbolism here. Humes watches mournfully as the police cruiser flies by the window.

Jomore tries to get Humes back under control, but the projection has other ideas. Why can a holographic image shoot lightning from its fingers? No idea, but it looks cool.

Another good zap to the keyboard cuts Jomore’s control off completely.

The truth comes out. Jomore killed Humes because he was ruining the company. Remember when Castle mentioned that Humes was a playboy jetsetter? Apparently that lifestyle had repercussions for the business. All the same, Humes points out that murder was probably a bit of a harsh way to deal with the problem. Killing someone and shooting their corpse into space just because they like a party does seem a tad unreasonable.

So Humes decides to go full Palpatine and shoot up the place. Things are properly kicking off now. It’s taken 30 minutes to get here, but I think the build-up has been worth it.

We all get to have a good giggle as Jomore’s hairpiece swings wildly off his head. It’s meant to signify his loss of dignity, but I’m not quite sure this is the right time for comedy toupée exploits.

Once safely inside the elevator, Jomore tells the automated voice to shut up. Apparently it was that simple all along.

Then, in all his computery majesty, Humes stops the elevator and gets his voice into the system to taunt Jomore. It’s deliciously evil.

All Jomore can do as he tumbles to his death is shout, “NOOOOO!” It’s easy to forget that Rob Thirtle is just standing on a small set in front of a green screen. I’m finding myself quite gripped by the drama.

Of course the explosion is absolutely ludicrous when the elevator hits the ground. Did someone leave a tank of petrol underneath it or something?

The projection of Humes watches with menace from above. It really is a long way down.

How Bob Sherman manages to get away with uttering the line, “I’m free… free!” without it sounding totally awful, I don’t know. Some of the scripted dialogue this week hasn’t been great, but the performances are solid.

A couple of fun special effects shots here. The police cruisers are accompanied by a flying ambulance which is a great little model. On the ground, the police and ambulance are joined by a couple of red fire trucks which look very Mike-Trim-esque. A few workers have been composited into the model set to try and bring the place to life.

The composition of Haldane and Brogan staring down at the ground is rather less convincing. And Haldane’s quip about the bottom falling out of Jomore’s life is just as awful as Brogan’s face says it is.

Captain Podly and Officer Romek pop in to make brief appearances. They quickly deduce that the elevator wasn’t faulty and the Humes computer program has vanished. Nice, short, simple. Maybe a crime drama should have more detective work going on, but I’m just happy to see the plot moving along at a good pace.

Brogan’s tired. I’m not surprised. He’s been carrying this entire episode with barely a moment off-screen.

So Brogan heads home on Captain Podly’s orders. He steps into the yellow nightmare that is the Brogan family home and things are quiet. Sally’s at work. Liz is at her friend’s house, probably making a pact with the devil the way 10-year-old girls so often do. Only Matt is home…

Except…

Why, it’s everyone’s favourite ruthless killer computer simulation of an ageing business executive!

Matt’s thrilled. The guy has apparently offered Matt everything he’s ever wanted… hopefully not including a creepy glance at Officer Castle’s bullet wounds.

Brogan orders his son to go and wait in the hopper. Matt accuses his father of being “massively mental” which is a phrase that was hopefully confined to the 1990s and never heard again.

Humes becomes very philosophical. He’s grateful to Brogan for liberating him and believes that Jomore’s death was a simple act of justice. Humes wants to join the Brogan family and help bring down all the criminal foes he can’t convict. Brogan’s not sold on the idea and gets ready to shoot Humes. Trouble is, he’s a computer program and therefore impervious to violence.

The silly twerp reckons he’s a god.

Brogan shuts down that line of reasoning real quick.

Humes manages to turn the chair he’s sitting in which shouldn’t be possible since he’s a computer image made entirely of light. Maybe the chair is a projection too?

Humes isn’t going to get his way. Brogan gets zapped.

Ted Shackelford quickly checks the floor for sharp objects before falling over.

There we go.

Humes is going to look after Matt. Heck, maybe he will. The great thing about this villain is that he only kills people who let him down. Otherwise, he just wants to have a nice life with friends and family.

Humes fizzles into the hopper next to Matt and uses his jedi force power to start up the systems. Matt is understandably concerned that this weirdo can just pop in and out of existence as he pleases.

Brogan wakes up. Apparently getting struck by lightning isn’t as bad as everyone says it is.

He steps outside just in time to watch the hopper fly away. Brogan phones up Haldane for assistance. “Humes has Matt!” Brogan urges. Never mind Matt, he just took your car, mate!

Matt really isn’t too impressed with his new daddy… even if he can use the force.

Like magic, Haldane has dashed over in a police cruiser to pick up Brogan and chase after Humes. This episode has been a slow burn but it’s really paying off now with a suitably dramatic climax.

When offered anything his heart desires, Matt says he just wants to go home. Awww. How sweet. Humes’ response is priceless: “You don’t want to disappoint me, Matthew… I haven’t been dealing well with disappointments.” You can say that again!

The cruiser catches up with the hopper and Matt manages to switch on the radio. Brogan unleashes the full fury of a father missing his son as he screams at Humes. Yeah! Go get the creepy dead guy!

More jedi magic now as Humes attacks the controls of the cruiser and sends it wibbling and wobbling out of control. I don’t believe for a second that it’s going to slow down the chase, but it’s an opportunity to build some more tension I suppose.

The cruiser tumbles wildly through the cosmos…

On the live action set it just looks like Brogan and Haldane have been thrown in a washing machine.

Over in the hopper, Matt has a swell idea to trick the increasingly pale hologram of Humes…

He asks to visit Merlin’s Asteroid from the beginning of the episode. Very neat.

Haldane presses a button and that somewhat fixes the cruiser. That’s a mighty helpful button.

Humes and Matt admire the asteroid… as much as one can admire a lump of rock anyway. Matt craftily asks if they can fly closer.

Sure enough, all that pesky Berkoff radiation starts impacting Humes’ ability to control the hopper, just like we saw at the beginning of the episode. A really nice setup and pay-off.

But Humes won’t allow Matt to take control of the ship, and the asteroid is approaching rather quickly. Even the emergency ejector seat is inoperable. All it takes is the camera shaking around and the actors pulling strained expressions and I’m completely invested in the action as Matt struggles for his life.

But as the ground gets too close for comfort, Humes relinquishes control and shows a glimmer of mercy. He agrees to send Matt home. So, somehow, Matt gets wrapped up in a giant white marshmallow and ejected into space within a matter of seconds. It’s just about within the realms of possibility so I’ll allow it, but I’m definitely not going to think about it too hard.

But for Humes and the Brogan family car, things aren’t looking so good. There’s a human skull in the foreground, just chilling out on the surface of the asteroid. Again, I’m not going to ask too many questions. I’m going to assume that’s Merlin.

Humes looks delighted with the way his day is going.

One more explosion, just in case we hadn’t had enough this week.

The police cruiser swoops in to pick up Matt’s special marshmallow and all is well.

Here’s an absolutely gorgeous shot of the suburbs as we get ready to wrap up the episode.

There’s actually not that many loose threads left dangling at the end of this one, so finishing the episode is a relatively simple affair. The Brogan boys are grateful to be home together, and take one last look at the asteroid while concluding that it was Humes’ grave not once but twice. Patrick simultaneously admires and teases his son’s ingenuity and Matt pleads for mercy from his mother’s eventual wrath. Aaand that’s about it…

Oh yeah. The computer simulation of Humes isn’t dead. Why would it be? But we can’t leave the episode on too menacing a note, so he just witters something about Matt having pleasant dreams, “while others walk alone.” What does that mean? Dunno. It’s a remarkably ambiguous and thought-provoking ending. Gerry Anderson shows tend to delineate more plainly between good and evil, but Humes is somewhere in between because this is a projection of a person who no longer exists at all. Oof, it’s right clever.

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I’ll wager that Body & Soul is nobody’s favourite episode of Space Precinct. But unlike earlier installments, it doesn’t do anything to actively put me off it. The annoying kids aren’t too annoying – in fact Matt is fairly well presented this week. The plot keeps moving and unfolding in interesting directions. It’s got some well executed action sequences. The tone is consistent and doesn’t swing wildly from goofy comedy to grim violence. It’s all very, very competent.

What Body & Soul ultimately lacks is a memorable villain… which isn’t really a criticism because the whole point is that Humes isn’t a traditional villain. But on the checklist of things we expect from a Space Precinct episode, a big ugly alien brought to life with impressive animatronics or prosthetics is definitely high on the list. The absence, or minimal appearances, of loveable characters like Podly, Slomo, Orrin, and so on also make this story feel like something important is missing. Again, I don’t actually think adding those characters in would make the story better, but they are an ingredient for making Space Precinct feel like Space Precinct. So, I would say that Body & Soul is certainly a solid bit of television, but perhaps there’s not quite enough traditional Space Precinct elements in there to make it feel special.