Thunderbirds

The Creator of Thunderbirds, Gerry Anderson died in December 2012 and I wrote this piece to reflect on his contribution to my childhood through his animation. I reproduce it today to mark the launch of the launch of the brand new series on BBC. As at the time of writing I have not seen the modern version and will report my thoughts when I do. In the meantime.......

Who is Hiram K. Hackenbacker?

There may be some interesting answers.

Try, did he invent a game involving a small seamed leather ball that you juggle and attempt to keep up in the air or between multiple players?. No That is Hacky Sack.

Was he the inspiration behind of a type of guitar used, for example, by Paul Weller, amongst others? No, that is Rickenbacker.

Is he, by chance the namesake founder and former Mayor of a town in New Jersey, USA? No. That is Hackensack.

It is a tantalising name but yet if you are a lifelong fan of the 1960's TV Series Thunderbirds you will instantly know that it is the real name of the highly strung and a bit nervy prodigy, Brains.

His name has come to the forefront in the last 24 hours with the death of his creator, the Supermarionation genius, Gerry Anderson. I grew up in the halcyon days of children's TV when there was no real competition or distraction from other media. No computers, Video Games, Apple products, etcetra  and a childhood consisted of only sleeping, eating, playtime and education.

This was the perfect environment for imagination to take hold and run riot and a major catalyst in my own formative years was Thunderbirds.

The distinctive countdown, in my memory missing out the first "F", therefore "..ive,....four.....three.....two....one....Thunderbirds are Go!"was the introduction to a completely enthralling part of my day. It went further than that though and the individual  episodes and subsequent adventures gave many, many hours of play value over the following days, weeks and months.

I was obsessed with Thunderbirds, the characters and of course the amazing equipment. International Rescue, the organisation founded by ex-astronaut Jeff Tracy was dedicated to getting the stupid, reckless, misled and unfortunate out of tight situations and in what style!.

Of course, now approaching my 50th birthday I may question how Mr Tracy managed to fund and sustain his charitable operation which must have involved an annual budget even in the 1960's of millions of whatever currency the off shore paradise of Tracy Island affiliated to. I hate myself for this totally cynical attitude and in some way it is a betrayal of my fascination with and complete trust in International Rescue in my early years. However, Gerry Anderson second guessed this later life inquisition with a convincing back-story of a personal fortune earned through the hard work and speculative ventures of Jeff Tracy in the construction industry on his retirement from the space race. All this and, as a widower, bringing up a large family.

The obituary for Gerry Anderson brought back a long forgotten memory of mine of a TV series he devised called Twizzle. This was originally broadcast from 1957 and unfortunately only the very first episode appears to have survived over time. I recall watching this programme in my pre-school years with my Mother and siblings and although I cannot actually summon up any bits of vision or dialogue I do have a very warm and comforting feeling from knowing that I saw it.

The output of Gerry Anderson and his wife Sylvia continued to be prolific with high tech puppetry (although I hesitate to use this term for the Supermarionation process) and also real life productions.

In no particular order but also representing avid viewing on my part were Stingray, Captain Scarlet, UFO, Joe 90, Fireball XL5 and Space 1999. The latter caused me considerable panic at the age of 36 which fell in that fateful year of the exit of the moon from earth's orbit. I was pretty relieved to get through that time with no incident, a bit like last Friday and the predicted Mayan Apocalypse.

The imaginative currency of the Anderson's productions was reinforced considerably by the clever merchandising which with hindsight would give the much criticised catalogue of the Star Wars franchise a run for its money.

I grew up under a Thunderbirds bedspread (ask your parents what one of those is, clue- it predates continental quilts ), I went to sleep after drawing my Thunderbirds curtains. I slept in Thunderbirds pyjamas. My favourite toys were a heavy metal Thunderbird 2 (The chubby green one) with the amphibious Thunderbird 4 in a removable pod, a larger plastic Thunderbird 5 and a diminuitive rocket model of Thunderbird 1. I also collected, from a brand of cereal, the small gawdy coloured plastic figures of the main characters. The aforementioned Hiram K Hackenbacker was a multiple swop and must have been heavily overproduced in some distant Hong Kong factory compared to the others.

A particular thrill when staying with my Grandparents was the sighting at a visit to Luton Airport of a full sized replica of the pink FAB 1 Rolls Royce of Lady Penelope, the racy and in a strange pre-adolescent mind, sexy family friend of the Tracy Family. I was genuinely disappointed to see it being driven by a mere mortal human and not Parker, the rather dodgy, skeleton-in-the-cupboard chauffeur.

In the playing out of the adventures of International Rescue I was always Virgil. It was not that the other four brothers were any less charismatic. Scott was alright but being the oldest a bit serious, John was just a bit invisible, Gordon too much of an enigma  and as for Alan, there must have been a reason why he more often as not seemed to be banished to the earth orbiting space and communications centre that was Thunderbird 5.After all, he was a typical 19 year old.

The further science fiction creations of Gerry Anderson kept up with my demands to be entertained and though my under 10's and early teenage years I also collected and duly  overpainted with Airfix enamel paints and then demolished the merchandising range of Captain Scarlet, UFO and Space 1999.

My own children were able to enjoy regular re-runs of Thunderbirds although the movie was mighty disappointing. Captain Scarlet was faithfully updated in recent years and no doubt captured a new generation of fans.

Even in schoolboy humour the characters featured. I still remember the story about Lady Penelope saying to the dour and expressionless Parker, "Take off my coat", followed by "Parker, take off my dress", then "Parker, take off my underwear". The punchline was "and Parker? ", to which he replies "Yes, me Lady",  "don't let me find you wearing my clothes again".  Classic.

The passing of Gerry Anderson has really pulled on my heartstrings.