
A good-natured alien rockets to Earth after his home planet explodes. Superman? No, not quite. In 1986, an Alien Life Form named Gordon Shumway crash landed his flying saucer into the residence of the Tanner family, and entered television immortality. The fuzzy little dude reigned over a small empire in the tail end of the 80s, bringing his photogenic marketability into pretty much everything you could get your hands on. But then the series ended, and Alf moved from dominance to footnote, only to randomly return as a pop culture reference when you least expect it. Apparently a brand new movie has been talked about, but we’ll see what happens with that.

Gordon Shumway was an alien from the doomed planet Melmac who, much like Roger on American Dad, was unofficially adopted by his Earth family and was kept hidden away from spying prying eyes. Of course, he wasn’t the most cooperative of house guests, so the show revolved around Alf’s many many foibles, hijinks and the inherent complications of keeping a cat-hungry alien away from the neighbors.

Alf easily entered into my regular prime time viewing patterns when it debuted. There was something endearing about the character, and, while adhering to basically standard sitcom plots, there was an imminent watchability to the show. Essentially, if you’re of a more pretentious nature, you’d probably scoff at the show, but it was the ’80s, and things were nuts.

Not content to just be the star of one medium, Alf also procured his own Marvel comics series under the Star Imprint aimed towards kids, the imprint that published Masters of the Universe along with dozens of other titles. This was no ten issue run; Alf managed a staggering 50 issues before his popularity began to fade. That’s a feat that comics today struggle to achieve before being rebooted, renumbered or cancelled.

In addition to primetime show and comic books, Alf was also bestowed with a Saturday morning cartoon detailing his pre-Earthfall, pre-planetary destruction adventures on Melmac. These adventures included friends, relatives and his girlfriend, who apparently all died when his planet exploded, so this was…this was some grim shizz going on. Seriously, if you think about it, this was depressing.

So what the heck does all this mean? I’m glad you asked. I’m the type of guy that (apparently) needs some type of plastic representation of things he’s enjoyed, or has liked, or thinks would be cool. Now, I have a handful of stellar E.T. Figures from NECA, and I’m thinking I need the other short alien whose arrival on Earth touched us all in deep and profound ways. How awesome would a fully-articulated Alf figure be? The good thing is it’s really an army of one. I wouldn’t need a lot of Alf. I’d need just the one. One good, nicely articulated Alf with a great likeness and the requisite articulation would be all I’d need to close this little door of interest and be satisfied.
Okay, you got me, I wouldn’t say no to a few variants, maybe a version of his cartoon character, which is just the addition of a a shirt, but that could just be an accessory to the main Alf. It could be like an Ultimate Alf figure, with sunglasses, shirt, maybe a cat, a phone (he had nothing else to do, so he called people a lot when he lived with the Tanners) and some other things I’m probably forgetting since it’s been almost thirty years since I watched the show. Yeesh. Make me feel old, whydoncha.

So that’s all I want. One Alf figure, hold the Tanners. I don’t need family members, I don’t need his girlfriend, I just want one good, well-articulated action figure depicting a one-time pop-culture phenomenon. It’s not like he’s a stranger to the toy aisles, after all. You don’t get a cartoon back in the ’80s without getting some plastic as well. He had PVC figures, plush dolls and so forth, but he’s never had what he could have now; one super-articulated action figure.
Someone make it so. It could be the Greatest Action Figure Never Made.