How The Apollo Missions Redefined Space Toys

In July 20th, 1969, NASA's Apollo 11 mission first landed astronauts on the moon. To commemorate the 40th anniversary of this historic occasion, I asked collector and artist Karl Tate to show off some of the wonderful space toys that were directly inspired by NASA's efforts.

SPACE TOYS IN THE AGE OF SPACE

Article and Photos by Karl Tate

What had been pure fantasy for decades suddenly became reality in the mid-1960s with the dawn of "realistic" space ships. The whimsical lines of Buck Rogers' and Tom Corbett's interplanetary cruisers gave way to straight-sided cylinders, blunt cones, and weird insectoid shapes that were pure functionality and devoid of decoration.

Toy makers worked with reality as best they could. Many of the Sixties-era space toys retained a whiff of the fantasy of space travel, while staying true to the crisp lines of the new breed of space vessels. All these toys are of course derived from the American space program. The political climate would not have allowed Western children to play with representations of Soviet cosmonauts and vehicles!

MOON TRAVELER APOLLO-Z (Nomura, 1967)

This large (12-inches long) tin and plastic toy has bump-and-go action, lights at its front and rear, and clear plastic parts such as a nose cone through which three (somewhat nervous looking) lithographed astronauts can be seen.

But the toy's most remarkable feature is an, ahem, erection maneuver. The toy will stop, rear up at an impressive 45-degree angle, and then extend the command module nose cone away from the body on its own internal rod! This simulates the final operation of the Apollo mission, when the cylindrical Service Module is jettisoned, and the cone-shaped Command Module alone enters the Earth's atmosphere for splashdown and recovery.

Overall the toy is a fine representation of the Apollo spacecraft, with mostly correct proportions and impressive detailing. Even the four clusters of maneuvering rockets on the Service Module are present, molded realistically into clear plastic parts. Despite this attention to engineering accuracy, bright colors in the litho and plastic bring the toy to life.

The name "Apollo-Z" is something of a mystery to me. Apollos were given numeric rather than alphabetic names. The first manned launch (in 1967) was Apollo 7, so perhaps the "Z" represents the addition of a typographic stroke by someone unfamiliar with Arabic numerals.

EAGLE-1 LUNAR MODULE (DSK, 1960s)

This is the largest toy Lunar Module that was produced (7 x 7 x 9.5 inches). Mostly tin with some plastic parts, it came out around 1969 (evident from the references to "Apollo 11" and "Eagle," which were named as the first moon landing mission only in early 1969).

The toy has mystery action, whirling to and fro with the chromed double-dish antenna rotating on top (missing on mine). Lights flash and the front hatch pops open, revealing a chromed spacesuited astronaut. A second astronaut peers from the litho'ed module window.

Plastic landing legs and rocket thrusters complete the buglike craft. While it would never be mistaken for a realistic model, the DSK toy captures the quirky essence of the lunar lander's unique design.

SPACECRAFT APOLLO (Alps, late 1960s)

This tin-and-plastic rendition of the Apollo Command and Service Module is a bit smaller (9 inches) than the Apollo-Z. My example features an orange stripe around its midsection; another version of the toy features a band of red and white checkerboard toward the rear. Both decorations are typical of early NASA concept art for the vehicle.

The toy has a clear blue-plastic nose cone, through which three litho'ed astronauts can be seen in their launch couches. Spacecraft Apollo features bump and go action and flashing light behind the red plastic rocket engine at the rear. An elaborate antenna complex (similar to the AE-35 unit on spaceship Discovery in 2001: A Space Odyssey!) rotates on top.

GRUMMAN LUNAR MODULE CONTRACTOR MODEL (Precision Models, late 1960s)

Made for the Grumman Corporation, manufacturers of the Apollo lunar lander, these contractor models can be seen in NASA films, astronaut portraits, and even theatrical movies of the time. Several issues of these models were produced, to conform to the changing details of the evolving spacecraft.

Every facet of the complex structure is reproduced. The descent stage, with the four landing legs, separates so that the upper stage containing the astronauts can return to the orbiting command module for return to Earth. Composed mostly of plastic, the model features metal legs and struts.

Mine can be dated to the final configuration of the spacecraft but prior to the first moon landing in 1969. Later models included a congratulatory message referring to Apollo 11 on the base.

The model is a bit larger than commercially made plastic kits from Revell and Monogram that were available at the time. About About 7 inches high to top of highest antenna mast. Base is about 10 inches in diameter.

GEMINI SPACE CAPSULE (WES Toys, late Sixties)

This little (7.5 inches) WES toy is a perfect little model of the Gemini, complete with opening hatches and two removable astronauts. Friction driven wheels are the only thing making it a toy and not a replica.

The Gemini was a hot-rod of a space craft, a two seater that was the favorite of the astronauts who flew her. The program was a time-filler until the Apollo moon landing system came on line later in the decade. But Gemini was a proving ground for many crucial techniques, such as space walking, Earth-orbit rendezvous and the long-term space survival that would be needed for a two week lunar voyage.

Television Spaceman (Alps / 1961 / Japan / 13 inches)

When I first became interested in vintage robots, one toy kept catching my eye: The Television Spaceman. With its purple-tinted visor, those weird, golden, bulging eyes, a myriad of flashing lights, and that fantastic TV in its chest, I could never figure out whether it was created by a drug addict, or just a run-of-the-mill lunatic. Regardless, whoever came up with the robot should get a medal (and maybe a month or two of free treatment) for even conceiving of such a fun and engaging toy, much less getting the company to actually produce the damn thing. 

This is one of my earliest pick-ups -- one of the first three, actually -- and set the bar high for what a robot should be able to do when you pop in a couple batteries and power it up. Besides walking, the Television Spaceman has a light-up, scrolling TV, spinning eyes, space sounds, and a color-wheel just underneath its face. It also makes a lot of noise, in case all the flashing and motion isn't enough to drive children over the edge.

The Television Spaceman underwent a few small tweaks over the years, starting in 1966. The most noticeable is Alps' switch from tin to plastic legs, feet, and battery door. They also replaced the antenna, going from a metal one shaped something like a cross to the "fry basket" style found on this example. On the plus side, the company increased the size of the robot's TV screen, which, as far as I'm concerned, outweighs any of the changes in material that might otherwise turn off some collectors. 

The Television Spaceman isn't a tough robot to find; the toy was popular enough that Alps made thousands of them during its production run. With so many floating around today, prices remain reasonable, making the robot an easy one for new collectors to add to their shelves. 

Top-Shelf Titans: The Andrew Klein Interview

Every Sunday, I sit down with other addicts collectors to take a look at their toys and discuss the hobby of toy collecting. This week: Andrew Klein is our Top-Shelf Titan!

Mixing the excitement of youth with the eye of a seasoned pro, Andrew Klein has leapt enthusiastically into the world of vintage space toys to create a collection impressive in both size and scope. He's a man who knows what he wants, tending to focus on robots and the occasional tank or tractor -- if they're driven by robots! And don't bother looking for any astronauts. As Andy says, "A robot toy, in my mind, could be 'real,' while a toy with a litho face clearly could not be a little man inside a wind-up body. In fact," he adds, "for some reason I can't explain, robots with faces kind of give me the creeps!"

DOC ATOMIC So what attracts you to these toys?

ANDREW KLEIN I suppose, as is the case with many other collectors, toy robots appeal to the kid in me. I’m 39 years old and have been interested in robots and science fiction related toys since the mid-Seventies. Star Wars really ignited my passion with R2-D2. I was fortunate that my mother enjoyed science fiction as well and, for birthdays, would give me Japanese imported die-cast robots as gifts. I still have a couple of them today. One of my favorites is Brain-3 from the UFO Commander series. Another aspect that both attracts me and keeps me interested in the hobby is the quality of design that went into these toys. They were built to stand on their own rather than to be sold in conjunction with a movie release or television show. They are unique to this day.

Some of Klein's collection. How many can you name? (All photos by Andrew Klein)

 

When did you start collecting?

I had been collecting on and off since I was a kid. This meant I would pick up a robot at a novelty shop if I though it was neat and I’d throw it on my shelf. I really started collecting in earnest somewhere around 1995. I received a copy of the Sotheby's Matt Wyse auction catalog and fell in love with robots I never knew existed. I was amazed because, prior to seeing that catalog, I thought I was an expert on toy robots. How little I knew! The truth is I’m still learning today and hope that I’ll never stop!

What's your approach to collecting? 

While my general collection rule is “collect what you like and what appeals to you," I do have a couple of guidelines I stick to (so far). First, I only collect robots. My second rule is that, with rare exceptions, I only collect toys that were designed and sold as toys. This means no statues, no models, and no art. I even have somewhat of an issue with the new robots on the market as they are not sold as toys and even come with the warning that “this is a collector’s item and not a toy. For adults only." If it wasn’t meant to be played with by a kid than I’m probably not interested in it. With that said, I do have an “Andybot” designed and built by a fellow Alphadrome (www.danefield.com/alpha) member named Andy Hill. That would be my "rare exception."

(bottom) Robby Space Patrol, a very rare "sled" style space vehicle. Also, one of more accurate toys to capitalize on the film Forbidden Planet.

Do you have a favorite toy, and is it in your collection?

I have a number of favorite pieces and, fortunately, most of them are in my collection. They would include my vintage Mr. Atomic (Cragstan, 1962), Non-Stop (a.k.a. Lavender) Robot (Masudaya, 1960), Ranger Robot (Cragstan, 1965) and Mr. Flash (Cragstan, 1960s). I also hope to own a Target Robot (Masudaya, 1965) someday. 

The wonderful Mr.Atomic was also available in a blue version. [editor's note: This is one of Doc's all-time favorite robots!]

Masudaya's Non-Stop Robot is part of the so-called Gang of Five, a group of large, skirted robots heavily desired by most collectors.  

Cragstan's Ranger Robot not only walked and made noises, but it also blew smoke. A light inside its transparent body helped show off all gears.

The Mr. Atomic and the Lavender robot were always "Holy Grail" robots that I dreamt of before I could afford the higher end toys. I had a copy of 1000 Tin Toys (by Teruhisha Kitahara, 1996) and the Sotheby's Matt Wyse auction catalog (1996) and would stare at these robots on a daily basis and fantasize about someday owning them. To this day, Mr. Atomic still has an impact on me and I’m amazed I have one sitting in my display. 

Also, the Mr. Flash is one of my favorites simply because of the design. I have both the red version and the more scarce silver version. Both are fantastic looking toys and never lose their appeal to me. 

Two versions of Mr. Flash. The silver one is rarest.

Is there any piece in your collection with a good story behind it?

I was cruising eBay when I came across a Missile Robot (Alps, Late 1960s) being sold by a guy in Argentina. It had a Buy-It-Now of $650 and looked to be in fair shape. I noticed also that this guy had re-listed the toy because of a non-paying bidder (so he says). Also, it was a bit fishy that even though the bidding on that first auction had gotten up to over $1400, he decided for a buy it now of $650. Finally, he also indicated he would only take Western Union -- no PayPal. 

Despite all that, I took the chance, thinking I made a great score on a very rare robot. We exchanged a few emails and I learned quickly that he spoke almost no English. He assured me that he would send the robot and to “trust him.” “Don’t worry,” he said. Can you smell the dramatic foreshadowing? 

Missile Man! A scarce toy.

I wired him the money plus $50 for shipping (“Is very heavy robot!” he said). A day later I received confirmation that he had picked the money up. Not long after, I got an email from him that said, “Not worry! I have not send yet! Will send tomorrow!” No problem. People get busy right? Things started to go sour after this. I sent him emails day after day with no response. After about 15 emails over the course of a month with no reply I decided to look up his phone number in Argentina through eBay. The woman who answered (who turned out to be his mother) spoke absolutely no English. I then called my brother-in-law, who speaks Spanish, and told him the story and asked for his help. 

He made several attempts and finally got through to the seller, who said, “Don’t worry. It takes up to three months to get to the United States,” and promised to email me. He never did. It became very clear to me he ripped me off. 

Well, at this point I was out over $750 in fees and payment for the robot. After feeling a bit helpless I decided I was pissed enough to take action. I Googled for an attorney in Buenos Aires that spoke English and contacted her. She agreed to take my case for a flat fee of around $200. I thought that was a great deal. Well, her involvement got this guy’s attention right away. All of a sudden I got an email asking me to take $400 back and to forget the whole thing. I told him to stuff it.  After a few weeks of back and forth my attorney managed to get my money back! She had it wired directly to my account. Turns out this guy had spent the money already and his girlfriend came in and ponied up the cash. I was amazed that I was able to resolve this.

So now at this point in the story I’m thinking I lost the robot but at least I got my money back. 

A few months later I’m on eBay and I see another Alps Missile Robot for auction! Wow! Here’s another chance for me! So I think and sweat and debate: Should I spend the money again? Well, as I keep going back to the auction to look at the picture I notice the robot looks really familiar -- same scratch marks on the tin. I go back to the old auction pictures and…can it be? Yes! It is the same robot the guy in Argentina was selling! 

I called the person holding the legit auction, which happened to be none other than [a long-time dealer named] Robert Johnson at Comet Toys. So we’re chatting about the robot and I tell him about the guy in Argentina. He says “Yeah, that’s where I got this robot!” A year and a half ago! It is now clear the Argentina guy sold it to Robert a long time ago and was using old pictures to rip me off. 

So I decide to bid. And… I lost the auction! Well, I figure this really was not meant to be. I tried to forget my frustration and disappointment at losing this robot again. A week later… It’s back on eBay! I guess Robert had a non-paying bidder. Well, this time I decided I was going to have it. I bid, and won! Now the robot sits in my display along side the other Alps robots (Moon Explorer, TV Spaceman, and Rocket Man).

Giants among robots. (clockwise from top left) Alps' Rocket Man, Moon Explorer, Missile Robot, and Television Spaceman

That's just an incredible story! Given your experiences, what advice would you pass on to a new collector?

Buy what you like. If you love it than it is worth the price. Also, never be ashamed of what you paid for a robot.  Just because it was inexpensive doesn’t mean it isn’t a great robot. The wind-up Radar Hunter is among my favorite robots and they can be had for $20 or so at any given time. If my Mr. Atomic became worthless tomorrow I wouldn’t love it any less and it would still give the same happy feeling that it does now. If another collector criticized your collection then you probably shouldn’t be listening to them any way. Always encourage other collectors and always be encouraged by other collectors. And always, always try to have fun!

Door Robot (Alps / 1958 / Japan / 9 inches)

In 1956, science fiction fans were given the ultimate present: Forbidden Planet, a multi-million-dollar cinematic extravaganza starring a young and vigorous Leslie Nielson, an even younger and -- ahem -- more vigorous Anne Francis, and an older-but-no-less-vigorous-thank-you-very-much Walter Pigeon. However above all these luminaries loomed the one and only Robby the Robot. In reality nothing more than a costume -- a cunningly designed, brilliantly conceived costume, no doubt! -- audiences nonetheless embraced the robotic character and turned him into one of Hollywood's biggest stars.

MGM, who released Forbidden Planet, had a lot riding on the film, which cost roughly $2 million to make. With the movie's flying saucers, space guns, memorable characters, and, of course, Robby the Robot, you'd think that some sort of licensing deal would have been a no-brainer money-making strategy. Nothing mints quick and easy cash like a line of toys.

But alas, this was decades before Star Wars, and George Lucas hadn't yet arrived on the scene to show the world how copyrighted characters could be turned into cold, hard lucre with only a few deft signatures. MGM missed the boat, and kids across the globe were forced to do without officially licensed toys.

"Officially licensed" being the two key words. Lack of permission did't stop Japanese toy manufacturers from creating their own versions of Robby the Robot. Most were only thinly disguised and immediately recognizable as the iconic robot. However, one toy company called Alps decided to re-imagine the character from practically the ground up: Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, let me introduce to you the simply named "Robot."



(Of course, "Robot" is a bit vague, so collectors quickly nicknamed Alps' creation "Door Robot" due to the small hatch located on the toy's chest.)

And in case you're looking at the toy and saying, "Um, Doc, that looks nothing like Robby the Robot," I'd like to point out the "sausage link" legs, the dome, the "gyro rings" inside the dome, the three-fingered hands, the neck window, and the cylindrical body. If this isn't Robby's cousin, then I'm his dad.

One of the more imaginative robots to come out of the toys' Golden Age, the Door Robot was controlled by a two-buttoned, wired remote control. One button caused the toy to walk forwards with lights and swinging arms. The second button made the dome rotate while a light up color-wheel spun in the window at its neck. At the same time, it made a wonderfully raucous clacking noise that probably made parents question just why they bought junior the toy in the first place.



The door itself opens to provide access to the toy's light bulb, a nice concession to budget-minded moms and dads who might not like the idea of tossing the robot once it lost its illumination.



Door Robot moves via a pin-walking mechanism wherein two thin metal rods move in and out of slots in the toy's feet. It's a system commonly found on older toys -- this is one of the later appearances of the mechanism, which was pretty much pased out by the Sixties as toy designers began to favor moving legs.



This particular Door Robot is an extremely rare "accidental" variation: the green, inner, rectangular dome is usually completely clear. Mine is the first one I've seen with a tinted dome, and I've since seen only one other. Personally, I like how it picks up the colors in the "Gumby green" remote control and wire.



I call it an "accidental" variation because it's probably the result of poor quality control at the factory; oftentimes, workers would grab whatever materials were on hand and didn't bother to pay attention to consistency. In this case, they grabbed some translucent green plastic instead of completely clear. Or, it's possible that whoever used the injection molding machine failed to clean it properly, leaving a hint of green behind that went on to contaminate the plastic used to make the domes. Either way, a green-domed version of the toy was never officially released. This is one of the reasons they're so incredibly rare today.

The Door Robot was available with at least two different color remotes, and two different styles of wire: Green remote with green wire, and a dark blue remote with a braided dark-blue/dark-red wire. Both appear often enough to be conisdered legitimate; sometimes other combinations pop up, and whether they're factory releases or after-market repairs is anyone's guess. No documentation has surfaced that indicates one way or the other.



When I bought mine, it had the green wire but a blue remote. I could tell that the remote was a repair job (the solder was still shiny) but decided it didn't matter, the toy looked fine the way it was. But then, one day, a friend called me up and asked if I wanted to purchase a loose, green remote. The price was right, so I jumped at the opportunity. Of course, I was curious as to how he ended up with just a remote.

"Some guy sold it to me after a piece of furniture tipped over and crushed his Door Robot," my friend told me.

Ouch.

I told my friend that I felt kind of bad profiting off some guy's pain, but he said not to worry. "This guy had his toys insured -- he got his money back and ended up buying a new Door Robot in nicer condition."

Which just goes to show, don't forget to insure your toy collection! More on this in a later post.

The Door Robot is an extremely popular toy, both for its play value and wonderful, weird looks; of course, prices reflect the desirability. The Door Robot shipped with a particularly wonderful box, and you can expect to pay more than twice as much for a mint, boxed example of the toy. Which is precisely why mine's loose...