1956’s Forbidden Planet was a minor hit, growing in stature over the course of a decade or two. The film had been hugely popular with kids, and it isn’t like they loved it because it had roughly the same plot as Shakespeare’s The Tempest. No, they loved Robby the Robot, an element of the film I still find a bit too goofy, even I can appreciate it as an icon. But how could they bring this audience more of the robot, when the picture doesn’t leave much of an opportunity for a sequel
This is how 1957’s bizarre semi-sequel The Invisible Boy came out. Set in the then-present, this is a weird kid’s adventure. The script is a bit smarter than I expected, but the film has a few touches that were too juvenile for my tastes. Especially odd is some surprisingly dark dialogue.
I’ll get to all that in a minute, but I first want to discuss the robot in the room. Apparently, this is the same Robby who was in Forbidden Planet, though he doesn’t talk about his past..um, future. You see, he was likely brought back from the 23rd century by a time-travelling professor. This plot element is quickly addressed and then completely forgotten. If I was the curious little tyke in this film (Richard Eyer), I would have a ton of questions about this, including where that time travel device might be.
The disassembled Robby had been gathering dust and cobwebs in a storage room of the Stoneman Institute of Mathematics, a nine-story facility entirely under the ground of a mansion, bringing to my mind a similar setup in This Island Earth. This facility seems to serve, and house the components of, a massive computer which supposedly has “the sum total of human knowledge”.
One element I found hilarious about this setup is the military’s concern that “anybody can wonder into here”. Oh yeah, all a person who have to do is know about this secret operation, get past the many guards I assume one would encounter while crossing the grounds to get to the mansion, then probably have to bypass even more security once inside the mansion, and then access the elevator that is the only entry point. Almost as bizarre is a sign in a corridor at one point that says, “Staff only beyond this point”. I can’t imagine this site would have visitors except for military and high-ranking government personnel. Basically, if you’re here, you’re probably allowed anywhere.
Eyer’s dad (Philip Abbott) works at the institute, apparently spending most of his working day at the console of the computer. This thing is how I imagine Robby would be if he was an old, mainframe computer. It even has a transparent dome on top that is not dissimilar to the robot’s head. I take it people are supposed to verbally direct their questions to this “head”, as it has the faintest marks that look like eyes on it.
Abbott is the typical egghead of that era’s media, though this leads to a few amusing bits early in the film. When his son makes the mistake of asking him at dinner what a computer is, the rambling explanation takes so long that he talks through numerous crossfades of the courses of the meal, with him still going strong through dessert. This is like the inversion of Einstein’s quote about how one should be able to explain something to a five-year-old if they really know what they’re doing. Then again, I can’t talk, as I am the worst person in the world for explaining concepts to others.
Dad unwisely brings son to work to get the computer to troubleshoot why his son is such an intellectual midget. After he leaves the room, the computer hypnotizes Eyer through the flashing lights on its control panels. When Eyer wakes up, he discovers he is now a genius. And here I thought subliminal learning was bullshit.
There’s a moment I like after Eyer gets smart, where he grifts his old man over a chess game. Allowing Abbott to win the first match, Eyer easily wins the second and so the promise to give him whatever he wants must be fulfilled. All the kid wants is to play with Robby. He doesn’t even know who or what that is, but a promise is a promise.
Back at the institute, Eyer soon has Robby reassembled and back in operation. He tries to show off his accomplishment to his dad’s co-workers, who are distinctly unimpressed. The strongest reaction he gets is, “Well, somebody finally got it working.” Abbott feigns a bit more enthusiasm, and I liked this exchange he has with the robot: “Say something.” “SOMETHING.” “Well, that’s a robot for you.”
Eyer gets into various mischief with his new playmate. Asking Robby to build a kite for him, the robot constructs a huge, remote-controlled, H-shaped thing that has propellers inside tall vertical tubes. That fun comes to an end when mom (Diane Brewster) sees Robby at the controls and Eyer doing stunts on the airborne vehicle.
Robby will soon be getting a firmware upgrade, courtesy of a hardwire link to the computer. Like most such upgrades, I believe in waiting to apply them until you are certain nobody else had any problems with the same. What this update does is make the robot do its evil bidding.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary at first, until Robby concocts a formula to make Eyer invisible. The kid gets up the kind of mischief one would largely expect. One thing he does, however, which really creeped me out, is he happens to be in his parents’ bedroom when they’re about to get it on.
There had been hints almost from the start that this film will have a weirdly dark undercurrent. When telling dad about a bully, Eyer dreams of vengeance: “Just wait til I get him tied to a tree. I’ll bash his teeth in.” Oookaaay. Then there’s the master computer’s plan, which involves placing miniature electronic devices at the base of the skull of those it wants to control. Except some of these lead to the death of the recipient. The computer is especially cold in how it has Robby holding Eyer hostage, saying how well the robot knows human physiology and how to best inflict pain. Near the end of the film, it orders Robby to kill the kid slowly, saying, “We’ll start with the eyes.”
The performances are decent all-around, though these aren’t exactly characters with significant depth. Eyer is likeable and believable, especially when the dialog he’s given bestows upon him a matter-of-factness I can appreciate: “I’m not a gentleman. I’m a gentle boy.” Abbott and Brewster both fare well as the parents, though I’m stunned the script makes the mom dense enough that she mistakes Robby for a travelling salesman.
That brings to mind a question I can’t shake since watching this: can Robby teleport? I’m not joking. He somehow keeps showing up at the institute and the house, but never showing us how he got there. But what planted this idea in my brain is a bit towards the end where he is rather far from a rocket, appears to get disintegrated by flamethrowers, and magically appears at the base of that rocket.
If there’s one significant failing in The Invisible Boy, it is the effects work. I know they didn’t have the budget to get Disney to animate sparks in Robby’s head this time around, but too much here is too sloppy. A standout example for me was a statue dropped into a park in the kite scene that is so unreal as to draw attention to itself, and the thing isn’t even important to the scene (Brewster smashes the remote control over it, but that could have been disposed of in any number of ways). But even this isn’t enough to completely derail this mildly enjoyable film, a strange sequel-of-sorts to Forbidden Planet which nobody asked for.
Dir: Herman Hoffman
Starring Richard Eyer, Philip Abbott, Diane Brewster, Robby the Robot
Watched as a special feature on the Warner blu-ray of Forbidden Planet