Space Precinct – 19. Smelter Skelter

As soon as I learned that Smelter Skelter’s original director, Silvio Narizzano, left the production halfway through shooting the episode, I could think about little else in preparation for writing this review. Juicy behind the scenes drama is an absolute gift when you’re into your nineteenth consecutive week of studying something as formulaic as a television series. Smelter Skelter is a fairly average episode of Space Precinct with nobody trying all that hard to push the envelope in any department. The result is an entertaining but inconsequential bit of television. So, it’s all the more remarkable to learn that this is the one that drove Ted Shackelford to breaking point, left another member of the repertory cast in tears, and saw the end of a prolific director’s career.

Like so many Space Precinct directors, Silvio Narizzano came to the production with a wealth of experience. The Canadian director had racked up four-decades-worth of credits in film and television, most notably the 1966 comedy-drama Georgy Girl. Just prior to Space Precinct, he helmed the pilot episode of The Inspector Alleyn Mysteries in 1990. Narizzano suffered from depression for most of his life, intensified by the loss of his partner, writer Win Wells, in 1983. Space Precinct was Narizzano’s final work, and he went on to live in semi-seclusion at a Buddhist retreat until his death in 2011. With four-and-a-half days of filming completed under Narizzano’s direction, the lion’s share of the episode was then handed over to Friends and Two Against The Rock director, Peter Duffell – a safe pair of hands. Between Chris Bentley’s episode guide, and Richard James’ account in Space Precinct Unmasked, we have a fairly clear picture of which scenes were completed by Narizzano, and which were Duffell’s work. Most viewers probably wouldn’t notice the blend of the two directors’ styles in the final episode, but like I said, I’m nineteen weeks into this process so you better believe I’ll be trying to highlight exactly who did what so that we have a complete analysis.

It’s become a tradition for the “impressive alien” slot in the opening titles to switch to a new creature every couple of episodes to showcase the latest offering from Neill Gorton’s department. Recently it’s been Mas Maharg from The Witness. The trouble is, the most recent episodes – Hate Street and Friends – favoured human antagonists rather than new alien designs. So, this time the slot has been arbitrarily handed over to the Zwellin from Predator and Prey. It’s not even a particularly good shot of the beast. Why swap out the shot at all if you haven’t got anything decent to substitute it with?

Other than a quick look at a grumpy Brogan and a dancing Orrin, the “This Episode” montage is keen to steer clear of the regular characters and focus on the dodgy antics of the baddies instead.

The show opens with some recycled establishing shots of Altor and Demeter City. I’m not a huge fan of the episode’s title, Smelter Skelter, but I get what they were going for. It’s a play on the term “helter skelter” which can refer to a general state of disorder and chaos, and in turn gives its name to a fairground ride, a Beatles song, and a vision held by murderous cult leader Charles Manson. This Space Precinct episode falls somewhere in the middle of that eclectic mix. Incidentally, Smelter Skelter was written by Arthur Sellers, who had previously scripted the episode Divided We Stand. I would have brought this up in the introduction but there was so much director drama to cover it felt positively mundane to also shout-out a returning writer.

There’s a gleaming new addition to the familiar skyscrapers of Demeter City. Today’s adventure kicks off at the imaginatively named “Jewelry Center” which is topped by an impressive, spinning, holographic sign. With only two cars parked on the roof it would seem that the store isn’t exactly doing a roaring trade. Said vehicles have been seen throughout the series but the blue one appears prominently as Seegur’s car in Illegal, and the white one belonged to Vinny Artak in Divided We Stand.

An excitable Liz Brogan has a 100-credit gift certificate to use at the store, but the darling cherub has expensive tastes and desperately wants these hideously pricey rocks that are pinned to her ears. She says they’re “tremo” – presumably short for “tremendous” – and it sounds suspiciously like Megan Olive is making the nonsense up as she goes along. Sally has to disappoint the child, and the salesperson does little to appease Liz’s complaints that everything in the store is too expensive. Don’t worry, the episode does get more interesting in just a second. I just have to point out that Peter Duffell receives sole credit for directing this episode, and indeed all of the jewellery store scenes are among his contributions to the show.

Armed robbers burst into the store to conduct a common or garden jewellery heist. The ring leader has opted for a white clown mask to really accentuate his twisted sense of humour. Sally and Liz immediately hit the floor as shots are fired and security cameras are blasted.

You may notice that for a so-called “Jewelry Center”, there isn’t actually a lot of jewellery on display. The Space Precinct props department, in their continuing effort to spend as little money as possible, seem to have opted for furnishing the set with any shiny tat they could find from a charity shop.

What started off as a bad hair day for this lady has turned into… well… a bad everything day.

In the background, store patrons whimper in terror and the baddies shout and make a mess without actually stealing anything. But more importantly, this guy has sprouted a magical orb from his special box. How festive.

Sally and Liz are still hanging out on the floor nearby, reminding the audience at home that this is a horrific situation and a pretty unpleasant way to start an episode.

Using his fancy glove, the bespectacled Tarn is able to manipulate the magical orb and use it to cut a hole through a door. The door has a very unofficial-looking “Altorian Security” sticker slapped on it as if that would be some sort of mark of quality. The visual effect of the orb cutting a perfect circle through the door is pretty good, though it does all look a bit too easy.

The magical orb returns to its special box which is essentially a cluster of pipes designed to resemble a plumber’s nightmare.

The baddies head for the freshly opened safe and raid the shelves like it’s Black Friday at Walmart. There’s additional dialogue dubbed on in post-production so that the crooks can assure the audience that this is good stuff they’re stealing and not a load of cheap tat as it very much appears.

For some inexplicable reason the bespectacled Tarn in charge of the magical orb machine removes his balaclava for a moment. Sally gets a cheeky look which will almost certainly come in useful later. Nasty clown man is quick to chastise his colleague for revealing their identity…

… but not nearly as quick as he is to have a go at Sally for peeking. He seems keen on blowing Sally’s head off but she starts to beg. The slime-ball instructs her to say, “pretty please,” and it’s all very icky. Much like the threat of violence in The Witness, all this drama feels a wee bit too mature and rooted in reality for the family audience Space Precinct should have been catering for. Sally having to debase herself even a little bit in front of an armed criminal while her child cowers on the floor in terror is just a bit rich for my blood.

The crook decides that he wants Sally’s wedding ring as part of the heist, claiming that she won’t be needing it anymore. Her watch? Nah. Doesn’t want it.

Liz objects wholeheartedly to the idea of watching her mother get shot and lunges for the creep. Her primary attack move is to grip his shooting arm tightly and hope for the best.

Sally manages to pull Liz back to safety just as it’s time for the robbers to escape. Clown guy can’t resist getting in there one more time and waggling his gun in Liz’s face and pretending to fire, just to guarantee some deep psychological trauma for her.

Clown guy makes one last ridiculous spectacle of himself by yelling and firing his gun at the ceiling. He doesn’t exactly come across as the most competent criminal mastermind. More like the sort of blithering imbecile who sits by the side of the road and yells at traffic.

I’m sure Nancy Paul’s gargantuan hedge of hair is thick enough to block any stray bullets that might come their way.

Elsewhere, Brogan and Haldane are having an average day, presumably returning to the station house after a patrol in the city. All of the police cruiser interior scenes for this episode were completed under Silvio Narizzano’s direction.

The boys have a near miss with what is essentially a flying warehouse. Brogan immediately identifies it as an unmanned mining drone with its front door wide open. It’s flying at high speed and the lads can’t catch up to give them a ticket. Brogan grumbles something about filing it as illegal. You’ll notice that quite a lot of the dialogue delivery in this episode takes a grumbly tone. Maybe that was a request from Narizzano, maybe it was a reflection of the cast’s mood, but either way it’s definitely noticeable.

Fredo dispatches Brogan and Haldane to attend the robbery without giving away too many of the details. The lads press exactly the same button just above their heads before turning around.

Brogan and Haldane head straight for the Jewelry Center where two other police cruisers are already there waiting for them. You boys will have to move faster than that if you want first dibs on a case.

Orrin, Romek, and Carson are hard at work figuring out the giant-hole-in-the-wall situation. “Where’s the hole?” asks Carson. “It’s right there, isn’t it?” responds Orrin. Nobody likes a smart-arse. The point is that an 80-ton, 98-millimetre-thick chunk of “star-density” steel has seemingly vanished into thin air. 80 tons is quite a lot. I fail to believe that your average jewellery store would have a vault door that weighs the same as a sperm whale. But hey, you get the point, it’s big and heavy and it’s gone. Of course, all of us watching at home saw exactly what happened so there’s no mystery for us.

Carson gets bored of explaining the concept of a hole to the Chuckle Brothers and instead goes to check if Sally is okay. Did you know that Officer Carson and Sally Brogan were best friends? Nope, me neither.

Brogan arrives and is suitably devastated to learn that his wife and daughter were mixed up in an armed robbery. Patrick and Sally exchange looks to suggest that very expensive counseling will be needed for all concerned.

As with most episodes, scenes on the main station house set were completed first in shooting schedule, so would have therefore been directed by Silvio Narizzano. The director starts off with quite an unusual tracking shot which tightly follows Slomo babbling about cruiser safety inspections while the busy room is full of witnesses giving statements.

Captain Podly is more on-edge than we’ve ever seen him, really yelling at Fredo to find the crooks’ hopper. It’s clear that Narizzano is aiming to make the place look overwhelmed and quite panicked by the robbery. That’s a good idea in theory, but the trouble is that we often expect the station house to feel like a safe space where our heroes are firmly in control of the situation. Captain Podly is normally firm but fair – he’ll make his voice heard loud and clear, but not to the point where he’s screaming like a banshee. So seeing everyone so ill-at-ease this early in the episode is actually a bit of an unpleasant viewing experience.

The camera keeps on tracking until we eventually land on Sally Brogan retelling the story and hitting that crucial “pretty please” moment.

Needless to say, Patrick doesn’t like that one little bit. He looks ready to tear someone’s leg off and beat them over the head with it.

Podly rests his hands on Liz’s shoulders as if to offer some comfort, but then Jerome Willis barks his line in a very abrupt manner to completely counteract any soothing intentions. Megan Olive does a great job looking totally bewildered by everything that’s happening, but that could just be a lucky coincidence rather than an acting choice. Sally puts on a brave face and insists once again that everything’s fine. Podly informs the lieutenant about the hopper – a yellow Humes coupe (as in Humes Interspace from Body & Soul).

To add another frantic layer to the proceedings, Haldane suddenly arrives with the Tarn sketch artist previously seen in Seek and Destroy and The Witness and announces that they need to stop everything and have Sally provide a memory-fit of the perp she saw. Patrick tries to get his wife some space, not taking a particularly polite tone with his colleagues.

In spite of her husband’s protestation, Sally insists that she’s up for it. Lots of potential points of tension being set up for later.

Narizzano plays with some nice big close-ups to really effectively get across the Tarn sketch artist tapping into Sally’s mental image of the crook. It’s the first time that this memory-fit process has really been conveyed as particularly taxing or intense and I actually think that makes it feel more interesting and novel.

Meanwhile, Romek is checking in with the salesperson from the Jewelry Center, played by Alexa Rosewood. She casually applies make-up, really not that bothered by the ordeal. Apparently armed robberies are just an everyday part of dealing with the public. I don’t think that’s a commonly held opinion, but you do you. According to Richard James’ account in Space Precinct Unmasked, Alexa Rosewood was subject to some harsh criticism from Silvio Narizzano that left her in tears. Since this is the only scene directed by Narizzano in the finished episode that features Alexa Rosewood, this is probably the scene that sparked the tension. We’ve already established the station house scenes were filmed first, so it tells us that things were already uneasy between some members of the cast and the director during the early stages of shooting.

Funnily enough, the only person immune to the downbeat atmosphere is Officer Orrin, who comes dancing through the crowds with a cup of coffee.

The salesperson is delighted that someone would be good enough to fetch her a refreshment. But Romek isn’t pleased. He was just about to offer the young lady a beverage before his colleague swooped in. “You never let me be first with a lady – ever!” Romek decrees. It’s a nice callback to the conclusion of The Power where Orrin ends up impersonating his colleague in order to steal Romek’s date.

Romek disappears in a huff. Now, all this was supposed to be the setup for a subplot which was filmed for the episode but cut from the final edit. The script pages are reproduced in Space Precinct Unmasked. You may remember that we briefly heard Slomo talking about cruiser safety checks just now. Well, in the deleted scenes, a character named Ann Drog (played by Melissa Knatchbull) would have come to Orrin and Romek’s desk to discuss the safety check on their cruiser, and Orrin would have dutifully allowed Romek to take the first shot at talking to the young lady. Romek objects because Ann Drog is a “grease-tech” in baggy overalls. Orrin can’t win. A later scene would have featured Ann trying to start a conversation with Romek again, but he’s still disinterested. Then, in the final act, Ann would be seen out of her overalls and wearing “a civilian outfit that reveals her rather sleek figure. Her makeup’s attractive and her hair’s loose and luxurious. She’s not bad!” Suddenly, Romek is interested in Ann. But it’s too late because she’s actually dressed up to go on a date with Orrin. Wah-wah. Egg on Romek’s face. The episode may have benefited from this touch of light relief, but one assumes it was probably cut for timing reasons. Maybe there were concerns that the joke was in bad taste, but Space Precinct rarely concerns itself with good taste. It also doesn’t sound like the most original Orrin and Romek subplot that the series has ever delivered, retreading similar territory to The Power.

In another corner of the absurdly busy office, Took is trying to get a statement from Liz. The poor kid is nervous and can’t get her words together, so Took does her best to introduce some calm into the frantic scene. Took encourages Liz to think about what happened so she can telepathically get a view into the events. Rather sweetly, Liz looks over the room to her mother who is occupied doing exactly the same thing for the sketch artist. She therefore summons the courage and agrees to let Took in.

Liz’s memories are played back in black and white with just the clown mask’s features picked out in red. It’s not exactly Schindler’s List but you get what they’re going for.

As more and more nasty images of the clown pass by, Took asks Liz to focus on something useful – the case used to carry the magical-orb-making-machine. She picks out the initials D.U.R.I. It’s jolly useful to have telepathic police officers who can mentally revisit the scene of the crime and pick out any piece of evidence they choose. I wonder how many Space Precinct episodes would have been over in five minutes if they’d used the same trick before.

Sally’s memory-fit is ready. Unlike previous episodes when a portrait of the suspect would appear on a screen like a painting, this time the printer spits out a photo that exactly matches the scene in the jewellery store.

“Let’s find this guy,” Patrick spits with an unhealthy level of aggression. The last time we saw Brogan this riled up was in the alternate Time to Kill timeline. The difference is that it took him a whole episode of nasty stuff happening for him to get to that breaking point. Here, he’s in a foul mood right from the off.

Took proudly announces that she and Liz have figured out the perfect starting point for the investigation. As usual, Took is the one doing the real police work while the others bluster around. Classic Took.

And here is the Demeter University Research Institute – a building which looks suspiciously similar to Demeter Memorial Hospital… or Demeter City Hospital depending on which episode you’re watching.

Time for some sweet, sweet exposition. Alexa Rosewood plays Dr. Rudd in this scene directed by Peter Duffell. She immediately identifies the memory-fit as Dr. Naru Reece and describes him as “an erratic and brilliant physicist.” The institute recently cancelled the funding for his secretive small beam accelerator project that fires subatomic particles to break up the structure of matter. Apparently this kind of technology is old news to Jack Haldane… because I guess he’s a nuclear physicist all of a sudden. What makes Reece’s invention so special is the fact that it can fit in a suitcase while retaining the power to punch a hole in the universe itself. No pressure then. It turns out Dr. Rudd here is a bit of a snob, taking one look at Reece’s address and assuming that he’s fallen on hard times. She tells the officers that he’s now living at 15 Dok Street. You’ll probably find it next to Scumbag Avenue.

Here’s Dok Street. How bad can it be? A group of gentlemen step out of a standard-issue hopper that definitely wouldn’t have fitted them all inside. On the live action set, the large hopper prop seen throughout the series has been resprayed in red – last week, in Friends, it was white.

This is a quick scene directed by Peter Duffell and it’s time for Dr. Reece to meet his untimely demise on the receiving end of his own invention. He only did the jewellery heist to get more money for his research, but the crooks aren’t letting him off that easily.

Here’s our first proper look at the episode’s big bad without his clown mask. This is Alvin Zann, played by Bradley Lavelle. Lavelle was a Canadian actor with a fair smattering of film, television, video game and theatre roles to his name. He played Captain Kirk in a 1994 stage version of Star Trek which was produced by John Gore, who also produced the Thunderbirds FAB show which brought Andy Dawson and Rob Thirtle to Gerry Anderson’s attention for Space Precinct. Personally, I was quite excited to discover that Bradley Lavelle was the original voice of Tanner in the 1999 video game, Driver.

Zann wields the magical orb against Dr. Reece and swallows the poor man into nothingness. So, we’ve successfully established that Zann is a nasty piece of work who really shouldn’t be in possession of a machine that can punch a hole in the universe. Unfortunately the lunatic is now the proud owner of just such a device. You’ve got to admit it’s a nice and simple setup for a Space Precinct episode. Bad guy wants to do a bad thing with a bad object. Alas, it gets a bit more complicated than that from this point on.

It may not be a double moon like we’d typically see in the sky above Demeter, but that’s still a pretty darn nice establishing shot of the city.

Dok Street is soon swarming with cops. Officer Carson is back to being a forensics specialist in addition to his usual expertise in computer science and medicine. He confirms that they’ve found the body of Dr. Naru Reece in the dumpster. Brogan despairs that their only lead is now a “cremated, headless torso.” Yes, it would seem that Zann failed to zap Reece out of existence completely – just his head – so the only option was to burn his body in a dumpster. The smell of roasting flesh still lingers in the air. Lovely.

Carson has collected a souvenir. It’s a lump of melted plastic that he wants to analyse. Everyone needs a hobby I suppose.

Brogan’s in a terrible mood. He plans to bag everything in the dumpster for evidence if they have to, barks at a random officer to get on with some work, and complains about the crowd that has gathered at the crime scene.

Haldane jokes that his partner is taking the whole case rather personally. That’s rich coming from the man who may or may not have beaten up a prisoner last week in order to rescue his sort-of-girlfriend. However, it’s reassuring that Brogan’s closest colleagues are beginning to notice that he’s acting out of character. Are they going to do anything about it? Nah.

All the material in the Brogan family home was directed by Peter Duffell. Lieutenant Cheerful arrives to find his children squabbling over their favourite spot on the sofa. Matt surrenders to his little sister, acting under strict instruction from his mother to be “mature” today. Okay, he might not be doing it entirely voluntarily, but I do appreciate any moment when Matt chooses to be a respectable young man.

With faultless comedy timing, Nancy Paul arrives with the killer line, “It’s been a little tense today.” Oh you don’t know the half of it, Sally.

Patrick tries to have a heart-to-heart with Liz and encourages her to open up about the trauma of the day’s events, but she bluntly insists that she’s fine. Patrick feels the need to apologise for not being there to protect his family. It’s good to have a reminder of where Patrick Brogan’s real vulnerability lies. Defending the streets of Demeter is all very well, but defending his family comes before anything else. But will that priority disrupt the character’s all-important sense of fair play? It’s a fine line, and this episode is daring to tread it for better or worse.

Liz disappears, unable to sustain the brave face. Likewise, Sally is clearly more bothered about her stolen wedding ring that she’s letting on. While hugging her husband, she covers her bare hand. A lovely little acting touch from Nancy Paul. We really needed this tender scene squeezed in between all the grumpiness and murder.

At the station house, under Silvio Narizzano’s direction, the characters are back to being horrible to each other. As part of regulation, Podly demands a statement from Brogan to “shut up” the public relations team. Brogan flippantly remarks that they’re “dead in the water”, much to Haldane’s equally flippant amusement. The lieutenant goes on to sternly chastise his superior by reminding Podly that what little information they do have is bound to start a panic. Podly concedes. While I appreciate that it’s still a tense scene on paper, I still think it’s downright weird to see Brogan acting with so little courtesy towards Captain Podly. The discussion needn’t have been played with such a malicious tone. The investigation is still in its infancy and I don’t think Brogan should be boiling over quite this much yet.

Meanwhile, a security truck flies towards the impressive Xanadu Enterprises smelting ship. The enormous model was created by re-purposing the Talon Princess from The Snake. The Princess’ large rear section was removed and additional pieces were stuck to the front before respraying the whole ship in silver – though there is some yellow still visible at the very base.

He’s usually under a mask, but today Wayne Forester’s actual face gets to make another appearance in the series – last popping up as the animal control operative in Predator and Prey. Wayne and his Creon associate have come to pick up a shipment from Xanadu Mining on behalf of the Bank of Altor.

The interior of the smelting ship is essentially a big empty space dressed up with rock and grimy metal. It’s always a treat to see a Space Precinct set that looks sturdy and lived in, rather than pastel and cardboardy. One of Zann’s goons is busy stuffing a silver suit into a secret compartment underneath the gold shipment. That’s important for later.

Wayne appreciates a big lump of rock, dutifully confirming for the audience that 900 ounces of ore from one asteroid is a lot. He whistles and says, “That’s a lot.” So, that’s how you know it’s a lot. I hope we’re all clear that 900 ounces is a lot. I can ask Wayne to explain it again if you’d like?

Wayne is also impressed by a case of gold. The man is supposed to be a bank employee so I can’t imagine the concept is totally alien to him… but sure, shiny stuff is pretty, I get it.

As the gold shipment is wheeled away, Zann agrees most willingly to follow the truck in his hopper. The plan – whatever that is – gets a big thumbs up from Dar, played by Andy Dawson. I’m fairly sure the other goon is named Lak, and is played by Robert Fisher – not a typical member of the Space Precinct alien repertory cast.

The Bank of Altor space station is another lovely model. I appreciate the fact it doesn’t have a giant “BANK OF ALTOR” sign slapped on the front. Otherwise it might be a bit of an easy target.

Everything at the bank is Peter Duffell’s work, and he seems to be fond of these high angle establishing shots. This probably annoyed the set builders no end since they would therefore have to construct extra tall sets. Don’t worry, the rest of the room is blandly decorated in that typical Space Precinct style. Star-density steel is mentioned again, so you can already guess what Zann’s plan is here.

The bank manager welcomes Zann as the newest member of their champagne-class, 26-hour-a-day depositing service. The mask worn by Rob Thirtle to play the bank manager here was last worn by Will Barton as the energy commissioner in The Power. The assistant, played by Leigh Tinkler, is a fun new purple variety of alien with bulbous headwear.

The security procedure is demonstrated very clearly for Zann, and for all of us watching at home, because it’s obviously going to be useful to know later on. A guard swipes his card while the bank manager opens the door with a palm reader.

Zann’s gold shipment is wheeled into the vault which is stocked full of precious metals. The bank manager estimates the total value at a hundred-billion credits. Zann is delighted by the service, and makes a point of removing his glove and shaking hands with the manager. Obviously the slimy creep is cooking up a devilishly evil plan. After all, “man-takes-his-money-to-the-bank” wouldn’t be a plot worth televising on its own.

Still under Peter Duffell’s direction, we’re in the forensic room and Haldane is cracking jokes. He suggests that the shriveled lump of plastic on Carson’s desk that looks suspiciously like a cowpat might be Dr. Reece’s brain. Oh ha-ha. No, Carson says that it’s Reece’s day-timer. Don’t worry, I don’t know what a day-timer is either. But the good news is, “the wafer’s intact.” Yes, the wafer. You know? The wafer inside the day-timer? Don’t look at me like that.

I like my wafers with a cup of tea but Slomo’s not so picky.

Slomo makes the oh-so-hilarious offer to read through every appointment in Dr. Reece’s personal organiser from the very beginning. Haldane suggests that starting at the end would be more productive. It turns out that Reece did indeed have dealings with Xanadu Enterprises. The audience at home is already well aware of this so it’s another case of everyone at home having to wait for the characters to fairly tediously catch up on the plot.

The Xanadu ship sure looks pretty when it’s all lit up. To be honest, I don’t really buy it as a big industrial vessel. It’s too classy.

Another police cruiser scene so Silvio Narizzano is back to directing again. Hope you’re keeping up! While researching the smelting ship, Brogan recognises the name Alvin Zann from his days at the NYPD. That can only mean good things, I’m sure.

With the police incoming, Zann decides that hiding his gun and his clown mask would be a swell idea. But hey, I’m sure the top drawer of the desk is safe enough… no need to do anything really sensible like hiding them in the third or fourth drawer down.

Zann puts even less effort into covering up his D.U.R.I. case containing Dr. Reece’s magical orb machine, clearly liking the naughty idea of hiding it in plain sight. I like the Xanadu Enterprises logo on the wall. I am somewhat surprised that Zann didn’t insist on spelling it with a ‘Z’ instead of an ‘X’ to match his name. He’s clearly got the ego for that sort of thing. On the wall is a painting of a Rock Snatcher mining drone which is actually Steven Begg’s original design for the craft and differs from the model shown on-screen.

I mean that’s just being ruddy cheeky isn’t it?

The confrontation between Brogan, Haldane, and Zann goes about as well as you’d expect. Haldane immediately calls out Zann’s previous charges of robbery and attempted murder. “Bull!” the ne’er-do-well declares. Zann tries to pretend he’s never heard of Dr. Reece, but when pushed he explains that Reece tried to sell his invention as a means of digging mine shafts. Zann apparently isn’t interested in tunneling and prefers chasing asteroids. Aaand that’s the end of the interrogation. These conversations never last as long as it feels like they should.

“Please don’t leave Altor without notifying the police.”

“Say pretty please.”

And there’s the face of a man who’s just started planning 28 different ways of disemboweling his enemy. I love this reaction from Ted Shackelford. It’s full of boiling rage while maintaining Brogan’s stoic professionalism. He knows Zann is responsible and is ruddy furious about it, but the rational part of his brain kicks in fast enough to know they’ll need more evidence.

But on the journey home, Brogan becomes manic and terrifying. Haldane only seems vaguely concerned that his most level-headed colleague is ranting and raving.

Brogan rallies the troops, calling for 26-hour open surveillance on Zann and his crew, a thorough check of all their records, and a special request for Officers Castle and Took to “sit on his butt.” Yes, I giggled at that part. Then Brogan screams “MOVE IT!” and I very definitely stopped giggling. He has well and truly flipped, and it’s really unlike Captain Podly to let this sort of behaviour run rampant. At the very least the captain would check that everything was alright with the poor lad.

Haldane’s reaction is the most surprising. He’s not one to be passive aggressive. So it just doesn’t feel right for him to sit there and quietly roll his eyes rather than challenging his partner’s unhinged attitude head-on.

So, in an effort to sit on Zann’s butt, Castle and Took are parked in orbit outside the Xanadu ship. The officers tail a red hopper on the off-chance that they can nail Zann for having a faulty exhaust. Alas, it’s just a decoy, and Zann is able to slip away in his yellow hopper without issue.

He puts on his clown mask to assure us that he’s up to no good again.

Castle delivers the bad news to an irascible Brogan. We cut away before the inevitable lecture on bad butt-sitting.

Elsewhere, Wayne Forester is enjoying coffee and donuts as any self-respecting security guard should.

But poor Wayne and his tasty treats get split into atoms in the blink of an eye. Don’t worry, I’m confident that Wayne will pull through and come back next week playing multiple roles as he often does.

The attack on the armored van is another of the few sequences completed for the episode by Silvio Narizzano, filming outdoors with a real van parked outside the studio. To be perfectly honest I’m not entirely clear on what’s happening. I think the idea is that the magical orb of doom cuts through the lock, and Zann then uses the orb as a shield to swallow the laser blasts from the security guard. But the digital effect for the orb fills up the screen so much that it’s difficult to make sense of anything. In fairness to Narizzano, he was long gone by the time the orb effect was added in post-production.

Ultimately, Zann uses the orb/glove/both to poke the guard to death.

Zann then tells his associate that there isn’t time to rob the van, and they run away… but not before they spend ages carefully packing away the magic orb machine. I know I should call it the small beam accelerator, but magic orb machine is more on my level.

And so, Zann flies away with nothing. Just like last week, another part of the city is casually on fire from what was obviously a horrific accident that took place off-screen.

Fredo immediately reports the incident to Brogan and Haldane and before you know it, they have eyes on the yellow hopper.

What follows is an eclectic mix of stock shots and new material that have been stitched together to form something resembling a chase sequence. The lighting inside the cruiser is mismatched and there’s no sense of geography because the chase is set in the emptiness of space rather than the crowded city.

Then, to really confuse things, Brogan and Haldane find themselves getting roasted in the exhaust blast of a high-speed mining drone that’s been sent to block their path. The special effects and the individual shot compositions look good, but again, the geography isn’t clear when the whole sequence is edited together.

There’s a lot of loud music and yelling, but Brogan is just about able to explain that the intense heat has fried the cruiser’s control functions and that their only option is to eject. Ejecting in the middle of space isn’t usually a swell idea, but the police cruiser has a trick up its sleeve. Right on cue, the entire cabin – basically everything but the engines – blasts away.

Then, a lot of exploding happens. Frankly, it’s not clear what exactly does all the exploding. We see the cruiser go up – that’s a given. But does the mining drone blow up too? If so, why? If not, why are there multiple bangs?

After the commercial break, Took and Castle rush away from Precinct 88 and phone up DCPD Recovery to organise a quick rescue for Brogan and Haldane. Yeah, apparently this type of thing happens a lot so there’s a whole squad dedicated to picking up stranded police officers who’ve toasted their cruisers.

And here’s what a lonely police cruiser cabin looks like floating in the vacuum of space. It’s pretty neat that the whole cabin can detach in an emergency, and it’s a shame Vivid Imaginations didn’t find a way to include that feature on the toy police cruiser playset.

Took and Castle track down the lads remarkably quickly considering they’re looking for a tiny speck in the vastness of the cosmos.

With the camera flipped on its side, Narizzano pretty effectively achieves the impression that Brogan and Haldane are hanging in space, forced back into their seats. Apparently Brogan has no idea that it was a mining drone that hit them, so look forward to them figuring that one out later. Jack invites Jane over to get a little more cosy… which is weird when your other colleague is sat right next to you.

Jane outright tells Jack she’s not keen on the idea of a fumble in the backseat of a cruiser. Haldane smiles at Brogan like a grubby teenager. Brogan manages to briefly recapture his sense of humour and offers Haldane a little smirk. That’s what we like to see.

Everyone’s crammed back into the conference room so we can attempt to get on with the plot. Podly plays back the security tape from the truck. Unusually for Space Precinct security footage, this moment appears to have been captured on video tape rather than film, and specially shot to make it look like it came from a surveillance camera. Haldane tries to look all thoughtful even though he’s probably still pondering that fumble with Jane in the backseat. Brogan’s back to scowling again. Why attack a security shipment but not steal anything?

It’s another situation that calls for Officer Carson’s scientific opinion… and it stinks. When considering the small beam accelerator he waffles on about “a hole deep as infinity” and the “scariest thing I’ve ever seen.” Thanks mate, really helpful. Took, ever practical, asks how they’re supposed to deal with this insurmountable new weapon. Carson’s response? “Turn it off.” Oh yeah, brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?

Brogan and Haldane can’t believe Carson is getting away with spouting this rubbish and calling it science.

Brogan’s eager to get back inside the Xanadu mining ship and find some evidence. Podly obtusely reminds the lieutenant that he’ll need hard evidence before he gets a search warrant, and suggests a touch of creativity is required. The scene in the finished episode ends there, but the script has more to offer. At the end of the briefing, while all the officers are filing out into the corridor, a deleted scene would have featured Ann Drog approaching Brogan and Haldane with news that their replacement cruiser has arrived. Similar to her interaction with Orrin and Romek earlier, she would have asked the officers for their IDs in order to conduct a safety check on the new vehicle. And that phrase “safety check” would have sparked an idea in Brogan’s head for how to get aboard Zann’s spaceship. In the finished episode, we just cut straight to it.

Two police cruisers fly over to the Xanadu ship as Brogan announces over the radio that the DCPD have come to conduct a safety check. Wonder where he got that idea…

Zann hastily burns his clown mask along with a bunch of other evidence.

Right, it’s time to discuss “the incident.” According to Richard James’ account in Space Precinct Unmasked, it was during the filming of this scene when relations between director Silvio Narizzano and Ted Shackelford fell apart. How the situation escalated we’ll never know for sure, but this was Narizzano’s fifth day on Space Precinct, Shackelford’s mood was noticeably sour, and a conflict arose between the lead actor and the director. Maybe Shackelford had a clear vision for how his character would behave in this particularly dramatic situation and didn’t like what Silvio Narizzano was proposing for the scene. Maybe there was something else about Narizzano’s working methods that Shackelford simply couldn’t tolerate any longer. Given the incident with Alexa Rosewood earlier we also can’t rule out the possibility of Narizzano addressing his lead actor in an unsavoury manner. Maybe Shackelford had entered a heightened emotional state for the benefit of his performance that came at the cost of his professionalism. What is known for sure is that Shackelford expressly instructed Narizzano not to direct his performance in this scene. An argument ensued. Shackelford shouted, “You couldn’t direct your way out of a bathroom!” and walked off the set. Narizzano vowed to get Ted Shackelford fired from the production and left the stage too. The next day, Ted was back on set, and Peter Duffell was now directing the remainder of the episode. The lead actor apologised to the cast and crew and on they went with shooting.

Obviously, I wasn’t there so I can only speculate as to what went wrong for Ted Shackelford and Silvio Narizzano on Space Precinct. But I do have two points to raise.

Firstly, it’s worth pointing out that there was no way Gerry Anderson would have fired Ted Shackelford to appease Silvio Narizzano. The whole show would have collapsed without the lead actor, while the director could be replaced. If one had to go, it had to be Silvio. Maybe Ted was aware of that and wielded his power to settle a personal vendetta, or to stand up for the wider team. Silvio may have also been aware of his inevitable fate and conceded to resign before any firing was necessary.

Secondly, I can sense that something isn’t right in many of the scenes directed by Silvio Narizzano for this episode. Maybe it’s Ted refusing to take direction, or maybe Silvio’s offering the wrong kind of direction, but something is definitely weird about the way Brogan and the general tone comes across. It’s unpleasant to watch Brogan be so unhinged. There’s a manic look in his eye that just doesn’t fit his character under any circumstances. Now, you could argue that Brogan’s been pushed to the ultimate extreme because his family’s been threatened by Zann. But I would counter that by saying Sally, Matt, and Liz have all been on the receiving end of villainous misdeeds before – see Body & Soul, Seek and Destroy, and The Witness as key examples. In those instances, Brogan became protective and upset, but he would channel that into sheer heroism towards his family rather than malice towards his enemies. In Smelter Skelter, Brogan’s family is already safe and he just wants some hateful revenge. He’s thrown out his sense of fair play and just wants to entrap Zann at all costs. Now, some of this is an issue with Arthur Sellers’ script. A cop revenge story just isn’t a good fit for a family show about traditional heroes and villains. But I would also argue that Ted Shackelford is either choosing or being forced in his performance to really labour the issue and draw attention to this inexplicably hateful streak in his character. That just isn’t Brogan to me, and Silvio Narizzano seems to be the common denominator in the way it plays out on-screen.

So, what is a production to do when the lead actor and the director have walked off the set to hammer on the door of Gerry Anderson’s office? First Assistant Director, Clive Reed (Dr. No, Help!, The Three Musketeers) stepped in to keep the all-important schedule moving by shooting one of the few scenes not to feature Ted Shackelford. Orrin and Romek step into the crew’s quarters and find a locked cupboard… full of “flesh mags.” Not exactly wholesome family entertainment, but there was literally nothing else for them to film under the circumstances.

I don’t have the exact order of events in front of me so I can’t say whether some or all of this material on the ship was filmed before or after the big bust-up between Ted and Silvio. Brogan is certainly wound up still, seemingly unable to dent Zann’s confidence no matter how much evidence he finds. Zann decides to gloat about how much money he makes. Oh now’s not a good time for that, buddy.

I mean, come on, it can’t just be a coincidence that Ted got into a fight with the director on the same day that his character was due to get into a fight with his wife-and-kid-threatening-arch-nemesis, can it? Those heightened emotions must have made an impact one way or another. It’s not as if Ted and Silvio were quarreling over a scene about picking flowers.

Haldane doesn’t seem to object to his partner’s behaviour. True, he probably would have done the same thing in the circumstances, but that’s why Haldane is the junior officer. His superior should be above such things.

As Brogan, Haldane, Orrin, and Romek depart, Zann decides to go full panto villain for a moment and chuckle to himself while trying on Sally Brogan’s wedding ring from his pocket. He clearly enjoyed the lieutenant’s outburst. Brogan should know better than to give the villain that kind of ammunition.

The gang head for home. Haldane openly admits that he thought Brogan was going to harm the suspect. Brogan almost gleefully agrees that it was a possibility. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. This is all wrong. Haldane and particularly Brogan should be alarmed by what just happened, not embracing it so matter-of-factly. The words in the script are fine – not ideal, but fine. It’s the delivery that’s completely off. There should be a hint of trepidation in Brogan’s voice – some concern by what he’s being driven to. He should not be enjoying this!

Back at home, Liz is indulging in the modern marvel of virtual reality gaming. Sally is wrapped up in the old-fashioned past-time of reading a good book. Sally isn’t bothered by her daughter bumping into her repeatedly but it’s getting on Patrick’s nerves and he asks her to stop.

Liz pulls off the headset and chucks it at her mother in a sulk.

Patrick tells Liz to return the headset to Matt. Liz acts out. Sally despairs. Don’t worry Sally, we’re right there with you.

Liz chucks the headset at her brother and calls him a jerk-face. Ouch. “There are limits to my maturity!” declares Matt, melodramatically. Thank goodness someone can throw us a crumb of humour here.

Sally asks Patrick to go easy on Liz. Patrick asks Sally to go easy on herself. He believes that Sally is acting too tough and protective and that’s rubbing off in an unhealthy way on their daughter. Yes, Patrick Brogan, the police officer who nearly strangled a suspect today, is now giving lessons on how to handle trauma. He literally tells Sally to “stop being so strong for everybody and let it go.” Now, this would work as a moment for both Sally and Patrick to reflect and see the error of their ways. The trouble is Patrick wasn’t even a little bit remorseful in that previous police cruiser scene.

So, instead, Patrick is left to look like a massive hypocrite with a split personality. Maybe in a messed up way he wants Sally to shed the feelings of guilt so that he can take on the whole burden himself and channel that into his growing hatred of Zann. I’m not saying that’s the right call, but it would help make some sense of this dramatic change of views.

Back at the station house, and therefore still under Silvio Narizzano’s direction, Brogan makes a dramatic discovery when reviewing the truck’s security footage again. He zooms in and finds Zann going for the guard’s bank security card. Huzzah! Some actual police work!

Brogan takes his evidence and his stinking attitude upstairs to Podly’s office and declares that Zann is going after the Bank of Altor. Podly is dismissive. Of course he is. Everyone is being so thoroughly argumentative this week. He explains that an ID card isn’t enough to access the bank, and that Zann’s massive ship has disappeared from Altorian orbit anyway. “You scared him. He’s off to rob some place else,” Podly declares quite cheerfully. Both parts of that sentence should be a concern to a police captain! The tone is so back-to-front in this episode! Brogan is insistent that Zann is going to rob the bank. Podly tells him to let it go. I’m banging my head against the table to try and make sense of all these mixed messages.

Then, Podly suggests getting the bank ID cancelled, “just in case.” In case of WHAT? You just said it wasn’t going to happen! You just said we should DROP IT! WHY ARE YOU BEING SUCH A CONTRARY TWERP?!

So yeah, obviously Zann is going to the bank. I don’t need Podly’s opinion on that.

He’s dropping off another case of gold in the vault and uses the opportunity to spray his palm with something and shake the bank manager’s hand again.

Everyone’s acting so weird this week it almost makes Zann look like the sensible one.

Meanwhile, Brogan’s trying to call the bank manager about the stolen ID. He gets put on hold. Haldane has some more time to enjoy his revolting cup of coffee.

The security guards happily take a cash tip from Zann and directs him to the exit. Zann has other ideas. He uses the stolen ID to get back in the elevator and return to the vault.

Then he peels his skin off… sort of. He peels the hardened layer of gluey spray off his hand and you can probably guess how the rest of this is going to go. I like the logo of the Bank of Altor on the wall behind Zann. I couldn’t tell you what the imagery means in the slightest, but it looks important.

Without interruption from a single guard between the elevator and the vault, Zann swipes the card, and takes his sweet time applying the gluey handprint to the reader, putting on his own glove and applying the necessary pressure to actually open the door. He walks right in and begins phase two. Easy.

Phase two involves whacking the door mechanism with a gold bar to make it explode. Not quite as well thought out as phase one but just as effective.

Somehow, Zann is then able to identify exactly the right box which just happens to be parked right in front of him, and pulls out the silver suit that was stashed away earlier in the episode. Clever stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree.

My mistake – there is a big ol’ “BANK OF ALTOR” sign on top of the space station. It is a soft target after all.

So, apparently experiencing explosive decompression is basically just like standing in a light breeze. Also, someone should tell Zann that his spacesuit is a couple of sizes too big for him.

Fredo has a flashing red light on his desk that was installed for exactly this scenario. That’s handy.

A mining drone parks up just outside the whacking great hole that Zann has made. It’s not exactly the most convincing combination of model work and live action that we’ve seen. A pure model shot from outside the bank probably would have been more effective.

Haldane and Brogan aren’t feeling too chatty on their way over. Brogan looks like someone’s stolen his lunch.

Zann and his goons work with considerable urgency to remove as much gold from the bank as they can. On the other hand, Brogan and Haldane wander into the bank with remarkably little urgency. It’s like I’m watching two completely different episodes play out simultaneously.

The door won’t open from the outside. Shocker. Haldane calls for backup in an attempt to inject some drama into the scene.

There’s a slight jump cut in between Dar rolling the gold cart into the ship, and Lak doing exactly the same thing immediately after – probably because there was only one working cart prop so they couldn’t have the two characters use it one after another in the same shot without cutting.

The technician and the bank manager have a special thingy to override the door and open it up. Only trouble is that it takes 2 minutes to actually work. Golly, that’s a bit flippin’ convenient isn’t it?

You lads take your time. There’s genuinely no rush.

While the baddies escape in their whacking great ship without anyone noticing, Brogan and Haldane finally start to do some detective work. Brogan wonders why Zann didn’t use his magic orb machine to get in, while Haldane figures out that the door is stone cold. Come on guys, we really need you to start thinking a bit faster now.

The humidity in the vault is at 0. Brogan stitches the ruddy thing together in an angry manner. He begins to yell “You’ve got a big hole in your back…”

… before the editor just cuts him off mid-sentence and the subject changes to getting out.

The gang bundles into the elevator just before the 2-minute countdown expires and the contents of the room – a table and two chairs – are sucked off into space. It’s not exactly a dramatic climax to the heist.

So, how will Brogan and Haldane chase down the mining drone before it zips off into space? Assuming they’re actually going to bother, that is. This episode is so weird I’d half expect them to put their feet up and talk about the stock market at this point.

Nope, there is a plan, and it’s not necessarily a terrible one. They’re going to ride on the front of the drone until it reaches its destination.

Lovely bit of g-force acting from Rob and Ted. Silvio Narizzano wobbles the camera just a little bit to suggest mild discomfort. It’s not exactly a roller coaster but it does the job.

The drone arrives at the main Xanadu ship in a matter of seconds. So, I guess it left Altorian orbit but didn’t go too far away.

Brogan gets to make a quip about New York parking spots as the police cruiser is slowly nudged into the docking bay. Their lovely new cruiser gets its bodywork smushed at the front. Haldane seems concerned that the cabin will spring a leak before the air is pumped back into the room. I have a feeling the intention when this was written was for the cruiser to sustain more damage to make all this a little bit more tense, but that’s not how it plays out.

With a breathable atmosphere, our heroes run from the cruiser and hide behind the smelter. For an episode called Smelter Skelter we really haven’t seen very much actual smelting going on.

Zann arrives through the personnel airlock which is presumably linked to the interior of the mining drone. He’s a bit surprised to find a police cruiser parked on his doorstep.

A gunfight ensues and at last it’s feeling like a proper episode of Space Precinct. Peter Duffell directs the action and it’s full of zaps and bangs aplenty. Zann gets his glove ready while Brogan and Haldane make quick work of Dar and Lak. Yes, that probably is a pun on ‘Dalek’.

Zann has Haldane pinned down in the corner by the magical orb of doom. Can Brogan open fire before Zann wiggles his finger? I’d have thought so, but apparently it’s a real dilemma for our hero. Haldane encourages his partner to shoot anyway because he’s such a swell guy.

Brogan’s sense of fair play finally kicks in and he decides not to murder Zann directly, but instead opens fire on the glove in an attempt to save his friend first. That’s the Brogan we know and love.

For reasons that science will never be able to explain, the orb decides to home in on the glove. Brogan yells for Zann to take it off, giving his enemy a fighting chance at survival. Alas, the villain is a little too late and gets swallowed out of existence by his own weapon.

Brogan picks up the glove and tosses it into the orb. Yeah, go on, might as well try it.

That made it bigger… somehow.

Well, lobbing the plumber’s nightmare into the magic orb is pretty much the only thing left to do now, so sure, let’s try that. Having eaten it’s own machine, the magic orb promptly vanishes in a puff of logic – to quote Douglas Adams.

Carson mentioned something earlier about “a hyper vacuum slamming shut. The concussion will blow you right through the wall.” So, in accordance with that vague prediction, here’s some stuntmen chucking themselves across the set.

They’re fine, obviously.

“Just another day at the office,” smiles Jack.

“Tell me again why I love this job?” huffs Brogan.

Order is truly restored after quite a wobbly week.

Yeah, we all knew he was going to get the wedding ring back as icing on the cake. I feel like I’m owed a happy ending after all that unpleasantness.

One more weird scene from Silvio Narizzano back at the station house. Instead of everyone being unnecessarily grumpy with each other, the mood has switched to everyone being way too chummy as they congratulate Brogan and Haldane. I know, I know, I’m hard to please. Podly remains as gruff and awkward as he’s been for the majority of the episode though as he announces that Brogan and Haldane are going to receive commendations. I’d hardly say that this episode was their most commendable bit of work, but sure, I guess they dealt with a bad guy in the end.

Castle hasn’t had a lot to do this week, and even less to do with Haldane, so we need to pause for some standard-issue cuteness between the two. Jack tells her that it’s lucky he still exists. Jane says that if he stopped existing she’d have to invent him. Awww. Not exactly pushing the relationship forward a ton but at least it’s something.

Back at Brogan HQ, Sally’s broken a plate. Hold the front page.

Suddenly, every plate in the house is a target for Sally to annihalate. The thing to remember about Sally Brogan is that she’s a professional post-trauma therapist (as of episode 16, anyway). So, she’s quick to figure out that chucking crockery on the floor is the perfect way to break her family’s funk. Yes, it’s a ruddy odd moment, but it’s funny and fits well with Sally’s slightly sideways sense of humour that we’ve seen in previous episodes like Hate Street.

Daddy’s home. It’s quite unusual for us to see this stock shot played out in full with the hopper parking up in the garage so I hope you all enjoyed that.

Patrick is stunned to find smashed up ceramic plates on the floor. Especially considering all their dinnerware is clearly made of plastic.

The actors pretty much improvise their way through all the dialogue for this scene and it’s very charming.

Ted Shackelford brings the house down with his charming impression of a pimple. How could any director want to fire this man?

Needless to say, Sally is thrilled to find that her knight in shining armour has pulled off a miracle and recovered her wedding ring.

And so, we end another Space Precinct episode with Patrick Brogan getting attacked by a giant hedge.

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Once you’re aware of the behind the scenes drama that went on during the making of Smelter Skelter, it’s difficult to ignore. But I would argue that’s partly because the story itself isn’t particularly interesting. You’ve got a stock villain who’s a bank robber, and a cop who’s out to get him. The sci-fi twist is a machine that can do pretty much anything. There’s nothing particularly inventive about this story, but there’s also nothing overtly terrible. The special effects department get another chance to shine, and even the set department do a decent job with the Xanadu ship interior. Under normal circumstances, Smelter Skelter would be an average episode with a bit of great action balanced out by some not-so-great character work.

Unfortunately, I think the strange direction in some scenes and the subsequent tension between Ted Shackelford and Silvio Narizzano does impact the finished episode. I just can’t accept the version of Patrick Brogan that we see in most of this episode. He’s just too nasty, and nobody around him seems prepared to challenge or look out for him. The acting choices and/or direction don’t match the subtext. And while Peter Duffell’s scenes don’t get it perfectly right either, the bulk of the problem does lie in the station house, police cruiser, and initial Xanadu spaceship scenes directed by Silvio Narizzano. And look, you may find I’m overthinking it. I’d be curious to hear whether anyone who’s seen Smelter Skelter before without prior knowledge of the production issues has ever come to the same conclusion that something is off with this episode. After all, it’s not unusual for Space Precinct to get it’s own tone drastically wrong. Maybe it’s all just par for the course and blends in with the overall viewing experience – one of turbulence and constant confusion.