Mr. Atom (The Advance Doll & Toy Co. / 1956 / U.S. / 18 inches)

If the last post featured the smallest robot I own, this is by far the largest. Hulking in at 18 inches tall, Mr. Atom is a robot to be feared, a robot designed to stomp Barbie's dream house into tinder while little Suzie runs crying to mom. Awesome.



Not only is he one of the largest toy robots, Mr. Atom is by for the rarest of the three major plastic robots made by American companies in the 1950s. (The others are Marx's Electric Robot and Ideal's Robert the Robot.) Big and rare -- but fairly simple. Powered by three C batteries, Mr. Atom walks using a ratchet-wheel mechanism in his feet, and at the same time, his head turns side to side while his arms swing. Pushing the red button on his chest turns on a morse code buzzer while a bulb in his heads lights up. If you push the slider on Mr. Atom's chest to "Full Power," the buzzer and light activate while he's moving.


Sliding the switch adjusts how the toy operates. The button on the right activates the morse code.


Lots of detail molded into the plastic. The nut in the center holds the body halves together.


Early silver plastic tended to separate during mixing, leading to really cool, swirly patterns in old toys. The battery box is located under the flap in back.

Speaking of walking, I'm always amazed that this toy functions without falling over. He's got tiny, tiny feet! But Advance Doll & Toy knew what they were doing and designed this guy right. He trundles along just fine.


Tiny feet!

I've wanted this toy for many years, but every time it became available through dealers or eBay, it would either have broken parts or it wouldn't work properly. I thought I'd finally found one when I returned from Botstock recently. A collector was selling one, but by the time I found out, it was already spoken for. Then something happened and the toy came back on the market -- but again, I learned about it too late! I'd pretty much given up on getting my hands on a satisfactory example when all of a sudden I stumbled over one while searching eBay. Amazingly, I won it for about 40% less than I'd expected, proving once again that it patience always pays off when collecting.

You know, maybe it's me, but Mr. Atom looks like he stepped right out of a B grade science fiction flick. I keep expecting to look in the dome and see the stunt man hired to wear the robot costume. Anyhoo...





Things to look out for when shopping for a Mr. Atom: The eyes and dome are made out of thin plastic, similar to the "blister packaging" you'd find on an action figure. The pieces are often torn or missing entirely. Also, check the body for cracks -- the thin styrene snaps easily. Finally, check the toy to make sure it operates properly, and that the switch and morse code button do their respective things.

Great Space Toy Blog: Moonbase Central

I was recently hipped to a blog called Moonbase Central (projectswordtoys.blogspot.com), which focuses on old Project Sword toys, as well as a wide variety of vintage, (mostly) plastic space toys from (mostly) the U.K., Hong Kong, the U.S., and Canada. It's a great site with tons of information and wonderful photos. I've only spent about 40 minutes looking through it so far, and I've already found answers to a number of long-standing questions I've had about toys in my own collection (or toys I've thought about buying). Now that's a good blog!

Logo via Moonbase Central

Moonbase Central also features articles on related space-age toys, books, magazine articles, and ephemera, as well as actual Gemini/Apollo era goings on within the real space community. It provides some nice context for the toys and helps paint a picture of what was happening in society and pop culture as these toys were being produced.

For those who don't know, Project Sword was a British series of toys produced in the late Sixties by Century 21 Merchandising (connected with Gerry Anderson's Century 21 Productions), as well as a series of comic strips and text stories, and various other related items. Similar toys were also produced by a bunch of companies out of Hong Kong -- including a couple toys that remain popular among collectors who have never even heard of Project Sword. (Like... ahem... myself, until fairly recently. Hey, I'm young, cut me some slack!)

Rocket Jet Space Gun (U.S. Plastics / 1953 / U.S. / 4.5 x 5.5 inches); Space Gun (Plast-Trix / 1950s / U.S. / 4 x 4.5 inches)

It's been a while since I've written about ray guns, so today I'm featuring two. Talk about... wait for it... bang for your buck! (That pun's for you, Andy!)

I really love these little guns. They're simple toys, and do what you expect a squirt gun to do: squirt water. Bu their looks -- now that's something special! The smooth, metallic finish looks nearly liquid in the right light, like the toy was made out of mercury or something. Pretty darn striking.

The Rocket Jet has a few variations. This one's all silver, but the toy's also often found with a bright, orange trigger. The tip, which is concave like the front of an old-school jet engine, is also sometimes orange. There's another version out there with a translucent red trigger. However, I've got to say, the pure silver version's my favorite.

The trigger guard is often missing on the Rocket Jet. It's usually a clean break, and you often can't tell anything was supposed to be there.

The other gun, which, as far as I know, has no special name, is a little less common than the Rocket Jet. Honestly, I don't know a whole lot about it. I'm going to assume there are variations out there, but I couldn't tell you what they look like.

Those swoopy looking marks on the gun -- under the back fin, under the front of the decorative side piece -- are actually part of the plastic. This "marbling" is common in metallic plastic, and many collectors (myself included) look for it specifically.

Regardless of my feelings about the all-silver Rocket Jet, I really love the red trigger and stopper on this gun. The colors pop like fireworks.

Like I said, these are your standard water pistols: fill 'em up and piss off the cat. It's hard to tell in the photos, but the tip of the un-named gun is a white, hexagonal piece of plastic. Many, many water pistols from the 1950s had these types of tips, and they're a surefire way to tell whether a gun is modern or not. In most cases, this tip will be brass colored (or, actually made from brass). Again, a great way to ID an older water pistol.

U.S. Plastics used an incredibly thin material when making the Rocket Jet. If you shine a light through it, you can see the water pistol mechanism.

U.S. Plastics, who mad the Rocket Jet, also produced a number of Space Patrol ray guns. I don't know much about Plas-Trix, but they've got a pretty funky name and the company was based out of Brooklyn, NY, so they've gotta be at least kind of cool, right? Right.

I was actually pretty dismissive of water pistols when I first began collecting. There are so many of the translucent, plastic ones floating around, and it seemed like most were produced in Hong Kong during the latter half of the Twentieth century. Heck, I grew up with the things. They're still produced today! Pshaw!

But then I started to give them a closer look, and I realized I was being a kind of dumb. Many of the greatest plastic ray guns from the 1950s and early Sixties happened to be water pistols, and by ignoring them I was denying myself some amazing additions to my collection. So I hired a thug to knock some sense into me. Too bad I didn't know that his cough syrup addiction made him meaner than your average roustabout, because that beating went on a little longer than I'd have liked. But it must have worked, because before I could say, "Hey, I've still got one tooth left!" I was logged into eBay and bidding on water pistols. I haven't looked back since. (Mostly because I can't really turn my head too far in either direction anymore.)

So let my pain be a lesson for you: Don't get all snooty about your collection, don't limit yourself, and don't hire a thug with a wicked addiction to cough syrup.

Electric Robot (Marx / 1955 / U.S. / 14 inches)

During the 1950s, Japan nearly cornered the market on toy robots. However, the United States did produce a few doozies, including the wonderful Electric Robot.

There's something really magical about this old plastic toy, something that conjures up strong feelings of nostalgia even though I was born decades after it was sold. Maybe it's the simple, plastic construction -- in some ways, Electric Robot's much more primitive than his cousins from the Far East. It just feels like it dropped out of the past, you know?

The toy features a variety of actions, all of which are controlled individually by different knobs and buttons on its back. Not only does the toy roll forward and backward, and have light-up eyes, but it also can deliver Morse code (and there's a handy cheat sheet printed on the back of his head). Electric Robot's arms move up and down by turning the two knobs near his shoulders, and a switch at the back of his base determines whether he moves to the right or to the left. It's all so manual, so interactive -- it's hard not to have fun with the toy.

A knob on the back of the head controls the lights in his eyes; the two knobs on the shoulders move the arms; the button in the center of the robot's back activates the Morse code; the horizontal switch in the middle determines whether he moves left or right; the vertical switch underneath the waist turns the toy on and off. Take that, XBox!

The Morse code key.

There's also a small drawer in its chest which originally held small, plastic tools.

Electric Robot was also sold as Electric Robot and Son. This other version came with a small, plastic, robot child that could hang from the Electric Robot's claw. I never really liked the Son component -- it looks a little too much like a robot monkey wearing a loin cloth. I much prefer the Electric Robot on his own, running solo without a care or responsibility in the world.

The toy also comes in black and red -- more common than the silver version -- and there are two versions of the son as well (corresponding to the color of the main robot). It's not a tough toy to find -- Electric Robot pops up on eBay fairly often -- which means that everyone can have an opportunity to add this great toy to their shelves.

Battery Operated Jupiter Robot (Yoshiya / 1965 / Japan / 6.5 inches)

Toy manufacturers got a lot of mileage out of Robby the Robot, using the Forbidden Planet star as the basis for numerous designs. One of my favorites is the Jupiter Robot.

I came to this toy rather late in my collecting career; for some reason, I never really liked it when I first began exploring the world of robots. Maybe it was the plastic construction -- I remember being sort of snobby about tin in those days. Ah, youth. 

But the more familiar I became with these old toys, the more I came to appreciate the quirky, colorful qualities that define Jupiter Robot. My immersion in the world of ray guns certainly helped. Most of them are plastic, brightly hued, and whimsically designed. My horizons had expanded, and when I finally did fall for the Jupiter, I fell hard. 

And what's not to love about the little guy? Jupiter Robot is a great shade of blue -- I'm an absolute sucker for blue -- and it's got a fantastic action with spinning chest gears and a light-up face. 

This lithographed panel appears on Jupiter Robot's back, opposite the gears in his chest.

Jupiter also has a wonderful, uncommon walking mechanism. You'll notice that the feet are molded directly into the legs. Inside of each foot is a set of pivoting rollers. As the legs swing forward and back, the feet appear to move heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe, in a (somewhat) realistic manner. At the same time, the rollers rock to stay firmly planted on the ground and prevent the toy from toppling over. Genius!

Though actually... the walking mechanism was swiped from the company Nomura, who used it on an earlier toy (also based on Robby, coincidentally enough) called Piston Robot (and known colloquially as Pug Robby). In fact, Jupiter actually shares the traits of yet another Robby-style robot: the face grill, which is similar to one originally used on another Yoshiya toy, Planet Robot (1958). Despite these similarities, though, there's no way to mistake Jupiter for either the Piston or Planet robots, a testimony to the old toy designers' talents and skill. 

Jupiter is a fairly uncommon robot. It does has a much more common, wind-up cousin, which is available in red with black arms. (I'll be writing much more about the wind-up version, since mine has a very cool, personal story attached to it. However, it'll have to wait for another day and another post.)

Note the toy's single-button battery box.

Interesting final note: My example of the Jupiter Robot happens to have been purchased from author Alan Bunkum, who featured a photo of it in his book Techno Fantasies: Toy Robots From Japan (Schiffer Publishing, 2005). Thankfully, Jupiter hasn't let the fame go to his head. He's the same little blue robot that first stepped off the boat after a long trip to the States from Japan. 

Roto-Flasher Gun (Renwal / 1950s / U.S. / 5.5 x 9 inches)

This is another one of those space guns that's pure... well... space gun. It doesn't have a rocket-shaped body, it's not a minimalist sculpture, it's not outrageously designed. Rather, it looks like a functional -- albeit brightly colored -- weapon from the future. This is a piece of tangible science fiction, and that's what makes it so damn cool.

The Roto-Flasher gets its name from the rotating barrel in its body. With every pull of the clicking trigger, the scene changes. It's not fancy, but it's definitely a neat idea. I'm not entirely sure where the whole "Flash" part comes from. There's no sparking mechanism, no flashlight, no disintegration beam... It sure sounds good, though. "Roto-Flasher." Kind of rolls off the tongue. Much more so than "Roto-Doesn't-Do-Anything-Else."

This is definitely a rare toy, especially in blue. And the few I have seen are usually missing their front sight, which snaps off pretty easily. The toy was also available in red and yellow, and frankly, they're not particularly common either. Yep, one rare gun.

I scored this as part of a lot containing two other ray guns. One of the others was pretty cool (I'm sure I'll get to it sometime in the future), the other wasn't anything worth writing home about. But the Roto-Flasher was the real treasure, the real reason to even think about bidding. Which I did with a vengeance. I probably bid about 20% more than the toy is worth; lucky for me, it didn't reach anywhere near that price.

Still, sometimes you pay what you need to pay to score the piece you want. If you love the toy -- really just think it's the bee's knees -- there's no such thing as paying too much.

And that's why we're completely crazy.

Electronic Space Gun (Remco / 1953 / U.S. / 6 x 9 inches)

I'm always thrilled when a toy ray gun comes in a display box; the clever packaging provides a perfect way of showing off the toy. And few toys looked as good in their boxes as the Electronic Space Gun. There's just something about a wild-eyed space-kid firing colorful beams of death that really captures the mid-century spirit of intergalactic adventure.

Remco made some excellent space toys, including a number of space phones, an amazing B9 Robot from the TV series Lost In Space, and, of course, ray guns. The company was good at providing bells and whistles -- and lights and buzzers and whatever other battery-operated doo-dads you could imagine. In this case, the Electronic Space Gun fired a beam of light while a buzzer sounded. The red dial on the side, up near the barrel, turned a color wheel which could shift the light from white to red to green to blue. A compass towards the rear of the gun helped keep Junior Spacemen from getting lost (as long as they were on Earth, that is). 

I'll admit, it took a while for me to appreciate this gun. It's angular shape looked just a bit too functional; I kind of felt like it was lacking in fantasy. But over time, I began looking at it like a prop from a space movie or something. The factors that turned me off became more appealing. Eventually, I was scouring eBay for a nice, boxed example.

Remco made a number of different variations of the Electronic Space Gun. All used the same body, but the company sometimes replaced the compass in the back with a small, spiral color wheel. The toy was released in a variety of colors, including black, red, yellow, and blue. There are also at least three boxes; this is the most elaborate. One version is also known as the Jupiter Gun, though aside from the awesome name, there doesn't seem to be much difference. 

Planet Jet Water Pistol & Space Scout Helmet (Renwal / 1954 / U.S. / 4 x 6 inches)

I remember it well: My birthday. A sushi restaurant in the East Village. Two good friends, at the time dating but now married. A present, flat, rectangular, wrapped. A book, clearly. But what kind of book? My friends knew me well, but even so, it could have been a book about anything. I rushed to open it.

Ray Gun, by some guy named Eugene Metcalf. An old looking tin ray gun on the cover. I flipped through a few pages, noting the brightly colored plastic toys. I closed the book, gave my friends a smile, thanked them for such a cool present. We all went back to our sushi.

Only... I didn't. Not really. I was still wandering between the covers of the book, crawling over each ring, curve, fin, and embossed planet. Those photos, only briefly glanced at, had somehow imprinted themselves upon my brain. Clearly my friends really did know me well, better in fact than I knew myself. Up until that moment, I didn't realize that I was a ray gun collector. But oh was I!

Ray Gun has pages and pages of beautiful space guns, but most of them pale next to one of my all-time favorite toys: Renwal's Planet Jet.

Abstract like only a space gun can possibly be, it's a miniature work of art disguised as a toy. Or maybe it's a toy elevated to the level of art.

Nope, I've got it: It's rock-solid, incontrovertible proof that toys are art.

My favorite part of the Planet Jet is the rocket on its spine, which zips forward with every pull of the trigger. The gun fires water, which is stored in the bulbous barrel. It also makes a clicking noise, because clicking noises are cool. Don't ask me why, but they are.

So what's up with the helmet? C'mon, I hear you asking about it. It's a strange one, right? All those open spaces and ribs and that funky antenna. It's called the Space Scout helmet, and while it wasn't specifically packaged with the Planet Jet, the two share a color scheme that pretty much demands that they be displayed together. Renwal's designers, renowned for their skills, were clearly firing on all cylinders when they came up with these two toys.

Both the Space Scout helmet and the Planet Jet came in a few different color variations. The helmet's are pretty straight forward -- both versions feature a yellow body, but the "ear muff" and antenna colors are reversed. Neither is more common than the other; I owned both at one point, but sold one of them off to a good friend. I kept this one because it more closely matches the Planet Jet's color scheme.

The gun came in three different variations: The yellow is most common, followed by a blue one with a yellow tip and trigger, and a red rocket; and a red one with a blue tip and trigger, and a yellow rocket. I'm honestly not certain which is rarer, the blue or the red. I've seen both on eBay, I've seen a couple of each in people's collections. Suffice it to say, they're both extremely difficult to find.

The Planet Jet was the first high-end gun to enter my collection. I've actually owned two of them: The first was missing the little fins coming off the front part of the barrel. It's a common flaw in the toy, and doesn't really take away from its appearance. Considering how scarce a gun it is, many collectors -- myself included -- don't worry too much about it. Besides, that particular gun was featured in the fantastic book Ray Gun!, which is just the kind of provenance I like.

Until, of course, a mint one comes along. Which, in my case, is exactly what happened. The same ray-gun dealer (who happens to be a good friend of mine) snagged the one photographed for this blog and offered it to me. I jumped at the opportunity. To help pay for it, I sold my first one to yet another good friend (who has since turned into one hell of a ray-gun collector himself).

The Planet Jet also stars in one of the most frustrating experiences I've had as a collector. A blue one appeared on eBay with its very rare -- we're talking only two or three known to exist -- display card. The seller was the retail wing of a very prominent auction house, so even though the photos only showed one side of the gun, I wasn't too worried. The description was very forthright in mentioning two missing fins (see?) and some scrapes and scuffs, so I figured I knew exactly what I'd be getting if I won the toy. I placed a bid and ended up taking it for just under what the gun would be worth by itself. Talk about a major victory!

Then the gun arrived. Seems I should have asked for a couple extra photos; the other side of the Planet Jet looked like a nail had been driven through the plastic! This was no small scratch, and I was amazed that such a reputable auction house would neglect to mention it in the description. Still, I wasn't feeling too bad because I had that rare card, which was worth more than the gun. For the money, I was still way ahead of the game.

Except, of course, the card was a reproduction. A bad one. I won't go into the hows and whys of identifying reproduction packaging, but trust me, a blind man could have picked this out.

Needless to say, I was livid. I called up the auction house, explained the situation to them, and was relieved when they immediately offered a full refund. But to this day, I'm staggered that they made such a mistake in the first place. (It's interesting to note that, a week or two after I returned the toy, it popped up on eBay again. This time, both sides were photographed. The description of the card, however, only included a small amendment: "It's possible that the card is a reproduction." Possible?)

Anyway, ain't none of us immune to making mistakes in this hobby. Mine was not asking for more photos. Live, learn, move on to the next toy. But at the same time, don't forget to enjoy the ones you've already got!

Dan Dare Cosmic Ray Gun (Palitoy / 1954 / U.K. / 5 x 6 inches)

When Dan Dare arrived in the pages of Eagle magazine in 1950, children in the U.K. finally had their own Buck Rogers. And with him came a level of merchandizing that'd do ol' Buck proud! Rockets, costumes, plastic figures, space phones, pop-up books, and, of course, an armory's worth of ray guns. While all these guns were spectacular, it's safe to say that the Cosmic Ray Gun with Tri-Color Beam was light years ahead of the pack.

The toy's designers managed to cram an enormous amount of play value into this ornate, but small package. Pulling the trigger provides the ubiquitous clicking noise while at the same time firing a (flashlight) beam of light. Turning one of two knobs located just above the reflector flips either a red or yellowish-green gel in front of the light bulb, changing the beam's color. The gun also has not one but two compartments for secret messages, one located under a yellow cap in the back, and one in a hidden panel in the butt of the gun's handle. 

The red gel in the retracted position. Note the flashlight bulb on the right.

The red gel covering the flashlight bulb. The retracted green gel can be seen over along the right edge.

The green gel flipped down to cover the flashlight bulb.

The cap removed from the back of the gun. 

This is one of my favorite space guns, and I'd been searching for it ever since I first saw a picture in the book Ray Gun, by Eugene Metcalf. So much detail went into the toy's design -- the futuristic rings and swoops, the giant reflecting lens, the wire-frame handle. But this is a rare space gun, and wanting one doesn't equal getting one. Especially if you're like me, and really wanted the fantastic display box. 

I love how the designers took the time to consider what each part of the gun would actually do were the weapon real. It's complete gibberish, of course, but how great are labels like "Atomic Charging Port" and "Static Condenser"? It's just a brilliant way to show off the toy. 

The gun's fairly rare, but it does come up from time to time. Sadly, I never had the money, and I had to let two or three of them slip past me. Finally, though, not too long ago, this one appeared on eBay with a surprisingly low starting bid. I figured it would increase by another 50 percent by auction's end. Still, I placed a bid, not really expecting to win. So imagine my surprise when the auction ended and no one else bid? Not only did I score a dream toy, but I managed to save a bundle on it. 

A nice example of how patience -- whether voluntary or enforced by the gods of eBay and collecting -- can pay off nicely.