The Movie

I can't in all good conscience call Unidentified Flying Oddball a great film. It's certainly not even a very good film. If anything, it's emblematic of the type of live-action films that Disney was releasing in the 1970s: high-concept family films with somewhat corny and old-fashioned vales that didn't quite mesh with the cynical and malaise-fueled populace of the time. Yes, this was the legendary "Dark Period" of Disney's history, the era that existed between the death of Walt Disney himself and the ascension of Eisner in 1984, during which the company didn't quite know what to do with itself. They were losing ground in the feature animation department: indeed, while they had a few hits with Robin Hood, The Rescuers, and The Fox and The Hound, their animated films weren't quite the popular-culture landmarks of years past. The live-action films didn't fare much better. Gone were the halcyon days of Mary Poppins and The Love Bug. Instead, Disney launched a slew of live-action pictures that were not met with the same type of reception afforded to them in the past.

That's not to say that there weren't some quality films in the bunch. I will always sing praises of the Witch Mountain films, enjoyed the twin-blast of Disneyified Jodie Foster with Freaky Friday and Candleshoe and, god help me, I liked The Black Hole and loved Tron. A lot. The problem with Disney during that period is that, when they weren't producing corny, old-fashioned films that didn't jibe with contemporary mores, they were playing catch-up with other studios. They tried to make cutting-edge science fiction, thriller, and action films, but the Disney label was ultimately a stigma. "How cool could they be? These are the Cinderella, Mary Poppins people!"

That having been said, I got a special relationship with Unidentified Flying Oddball. I first saw the film in the summer of 1979 at a drive-in theater in or near Waterbury, Connecticut, part of a double-bill that included a reissue of The Jungle Book. It was one of the most magical moviegoing experiences of my lifetime, and from that point on I retained warm feelings for both films. But whereas The Jungle Book became a constantly rewatched (and beloved) film in my library, I hadn't seen since Unidentified Flying Oddball since that fateful night twenty-five years ago. Until now.

The film centers around the adventures of NASA scientist Tom Trimble, charged with the task of creating an android that would be capable of withstanding a thirty-year, deep-space voyage. The android, named Hermes, displays a smidgeon of fear upon the day of the big launch, so Trimble enters the spacecraft in order to boost the androids confidence. Unfortunately, a conveniently placed bolt of lightning accidentally launches the craft into space, and a terrified Trimble finds himself trapped with Hermes for what seems to be the beginning of a very long journey indeed.

However, things don't go quite as planned. Due to some throwaway science-fiction hokum that crumbles upon scrutiny as light as a passing glance, Trimble finds himself transported to the year 508 AD, and finds himself face to face with the legendary King Arthur, Merlin, Mordred, and the Knights of Camelot. Trimble finds himself in the middle of a power struggle between Mordred and Arthur, and must find a way to assist the beleaguered king while at the same time avoiding execution and attempting to win the affections of the fair-haired, sweet-hearted Sandy. Trimble uses some nifty 20th-century technology to do battle in some inventive and comical ways, while at the same time using his scientific know-how to even impress the legendary Merlin. Yes, this is an extremely loose retelling of Twain's A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, refracted through the lenses of 1970s Disney sensibilities.

Unidentified Flying Oddball is exceedingly corny, overbearingly obvious, thickly broad in its humor, and completely lacking in subtlety and nuance. You can even forget its representation of Arthurian legend: the filmmakers didn't exactly set out to recreate Mallory, Monmouth, de Troyes, Tennyson, or even T.H. White. Mordred is Arthur's freakin' son, born out of sorcery, trickery and incest, but you won't see mention of that here. But this is a Disney Family Film from 1979. What you have instead is a simple, earnest little movie that does its best to please and entertain and, for the most part, succeeds. It's middling material, but sweet and good-natured enough to make it worth a view.

The DVD

Video:

Unidentified Flying Oddball is presented in a widescreen aspect ratio of 1.85:1, and has been anamorphically enhanced for your widescreen-viewing joy of joys. The transfer is not the best I've seen from Disney. There is noticeable noise and debris present throughout many parts of the transfer, although admittedly other scenes appear relatively clean. Chalk it up to the bipolar nature of this transfer. The color scheme seems muted, giving a somewhat lackluster appearance to the entire affair. Sharpness levels are middling, with some softness and lack of fine detail. Overall, I would place this transfer rating square in the "low average" rating. It probably looks better than it should, given the fact that this film is a minor catalog title at best, but it still can't compare to other releases form the same era.

Audio: