“Steve Austin — astronaut. A man barely alive. We can rebuild him. We have the technology. We can make him better than he was. Better…stronger…faster.”
Ah, The Six Million Dollar Man. Every Sunday night that brief introduction, spoken over a swelling musical score, blasted out of television sets all throughout America. And though the purpose of the monologue was to establish the sci-fi premise of the show, it might as well have been a magical incantation spoken by Kenner Toys. The Ohio company, best known for producing the Spirograph and Easy Bake Oven, issued it’s first Steve Austin in 1975, sparking one of the most successful toy lines of all time. In the span of three years, Kenner produced several different versions of the Bionic Man, his “boss” Albert Goldman, as well as playsets, mission-specific limb packs and some kickass bionic bad guys. So put on your NASA-style jumpsuit and sneakers, polish your telescopic eye, and check out THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN!
Here’s Steve straight outta the box. The figure trumps the previous “King of Boys’ Toys” GI Joe by standing 13″ tall, towering over Joe by an entire inch. Intentional or not, this proved to be a powerful statement on Kenner’s part. Joe’s popularity had waned considerably over the years, and, in 1977, the icon was shrunk to a measly 8″ for the short-lived SUPER JOE line. Steve, meanwhile, maintained his stature until his line ended in 1978. In a strange turn of affairs, BIF BANG POW!’s new Six Million Dollar Man figures are only 8″ tall, making your dream of a Super Joe/Bionic Man ACBA (Articulated Comic Book Art) a tangible reality.
Steve comes dressed in a version of the red track suit we see during the opening credits. It was as close to a “costume” as he ever got, unless you count leisure-suits as costumes. The cloth outfit was a good choice for the toy. For a start, it allowed little Jimmy to roll back Steve’s sleeve, allowing access to the play features beneath. The cloth costume also covered Steve’s odd ladylike chest. Look, I know the dude is bionic and all, but he’s got moobs.
Maybe he should do some sit-ups or something. I mean, make an effort, man — you’re making it look like anyone could do this if they had an extra six mil laying around. At any rate, the most obvious reason to give him a removable suit was so it could be removed. Following GI Joe’s example, many different “mission specific” uniforms were created, allowing boys to play dress-up with dolls without fear of peer reprisal. Barbie only wishes her space-suit looked so cool…
If you’re not familiar with this toy, you may have noticed something that might seem odd for me to have not mentioned: THE GIANT HOLE IN HIS FACE WHERE HIS EYE SHOULD BE.
Yeah, it’s pretty jarring. Always was, in fact. This is his “bionic” eye. Not buying it? OK, it’s a cheap plastic lens stuck in his head, meant to simulate his bionic eye. It looked awful and didn’t really work. What was supposed to be telescopic vision actually made things look small and far away. My good friend Dave once told me a story about tearing the heads off of two separate figures and running around using them as “binoculars.” Ah, the days of innocence.
Pull up Steve’s sleeve and you’ll notice something… weird. Like “Why does this toy have a condom on it’s arm?” weird. Well, it was the 1970s — at the time, latex rubber was revolutionary cutting-edge toy tech! The rubber sleeve allowed kids to “operate” on the venerable Mr. Austin, as well as perform the important function of keeping his bionic modules in place. It was a cheap feature that rarely lasted more than a few play sessions and most Bionic Men you find these days are far less… supple.
Yikes! Get that guy some Lubriderm STAT! I mean, that is one serious skin condition. You’d think that six million bucks could get you some decent skin-care products. Someone get Oscar Goldman on the phone — now there’s a man who knows how to stay smooth.
Steve featured “bionic” power in the form of a ratchet-powered arm capable of lifting small items like pencils, sticks, or the conveniently enclosed engine-block. Oh, engine-block — years after my last broken Steve Austin was tossed into the garbage, his engine-block accessory remained, mute testimony to both Presence and Absence. It endured long after other toys were lost, lent, or left behind, always just in the way of whatever I was reaching for. It went from toy to garbage to ironic object, transcending it’s intended function, becoming an engine of it’s own reinvention, it’s final action the transmutation from solid object to ephemeral memory.
One of the revolutionary aspects of The Bionic Man line was the concept of “mission-specific” limb packs, spoofed oh so excellently on MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000.
“JOHNNY LONGTORSO, JOHNNY LONGTORSO, the Man who comes in Pieces! (fake cymbal crash) He’s long!”
The modular approach allowed the character to gear-up with mission-specific arms and legs, adapting to crises and anticipating dangers that might come his way. This “toyetic” feature kept the Bionic Man from being a one-trick pony, his barrage of esoteric and impractical weapons ensuring that parents would continue to upgrade little Johnny’s Bionic Man — it’s like the military industrial complex in macrocosm!
Steve’s lookin’ free and easy in this sporty summer ensemble. Not sure what the “critical assignment” is, but it involves tight white shorts and a remarkable lack of dignity.
“…AN ADDITIONAL ELEMENT OF SURPRISE AND DANGER! YOUR EXPLODING LEG.” This is definitely one instance where you’re gonna want to keep the owner’s manual.
Now here’s what I’m talkin’ about! A hollow freakin’ leg! Who needs bones anyway? They’re overrated. Besides, a hollow leg would come in handy — at the bar, the ballgame, the local playground, anywhere you consume copious amounts of beer. You can throw the rest of that junk away. Odds are you’re gonna have to take a whiz long before you need a grappling-hook…
And moving on to the upper body, here are the “Critical Assignment Arms,” which are already a damn sight better than the legs. We’ve got a laser, a “neutralizer” and oxygen supply arm. Hmmm. Doesn’t look like there’s much room for oxygen in there, what with the limb being crammed with bionics and all. Perhaps the arm isn’t the best place for your O2 supply, but hey, there’s plenty of room in his moobs — put some extra air in there.
It wasn’t all jumpsuits and random limbs, though. Steve needed a place to “do his thing” — you know, party with the ladies, iron his jumpsuit, that sorta stuff — a space-age bachelor pad, or, in his case, the Bionic Command Center!
If you’re Steve Austin ya gotta have this. After all, it’s “where all the bionic adventures begin!” But remember, kids, “Six Million Dollar Man Not Included.” OK, that’s fair, I guess. So just what do I get for six months of relentless begging and pleading with my parents?
Oh.
Well, crap.
Steve did a little better when it came to having a sweet ride. While GI Joe spent all of his time driving around in his crappy jeep, the Bionic Man got something a bit more choice.
Oooo, yeah, now that’s the stuff! Nothing inflatable or made out of cardboard here: this sucker was 100% plastic. Heavy, too — at least heavy enough to break the glass tabletop I dropped it on when I was a wee lad. Yeah, I caught some Hell from my parents for that particular crash landing. Fortunately, the toy was fine!
Hmmm. Not a lot of room in there — not so good for those long flights into space. And how do you suppose he steers that thing? I see an engine but no wings or fins; I suppose this particular ship is for when Steve needs to go straight up. I’m guessing landing’s gonna be tough, too. Hope that the guys who built him have another six million bucks handy!
OK, that’s it for Part One — join us next week when we take a look at the other members of Steve’s crew, as well as some odd knockoffs ya gotta see to believe!
Jason R Mink is the Man in the Ant Hill! – 02/11/13
