Pre-Production Space Trooper (Yoshiya/1959/Japan/6 inches)

Most collectors have "holy grails." You know, the pieces we dream about even though the odds say we'll never, ever, ever get our hands on them. The ones that keep us away long into the night, dreaming impossible dreams of glory through astonishing acquisition.

Well... This robot's one of mine. And right now, it's sitting on my desk in front of me.



You're looking at a Pre-Production Sample of a Robby the Robot knock off called the Space Trooper. It was made by Yoshiya way back in 1959.

As toys go, your basic Space Trooper isn't terribly complicated. Turning the crank engages a flywheel system, which causes the robot to roll forward while the multiple antennas in its head rotate in different directions. The wheels in its feet are off-center, which makes the robot wobble side-to-side as it rolls. It's simple, it's primitive, and frankly, I think it's completely awesome!

As I said, this is a Pre-Production Sample. I know, I know: "Doc, what the heck is a Pre-Production Sample?" Gather 'round, kids, and I'll tell ya!

Pre-Production Samples were one of the last stages in toy production before achieving a finished product. They were used by the toy companies for catalogue photos, as salesman's samples, and as display pieces at industry events like Toy Fair in New York City. They share most of the traits of a final production toy -- the one that ends up on toy store shelves -- but they also differ in many significant ways.

In the case of the Space Trooper, there are four major differences.

1. COLOR
The production models of the Space Trooper only came in red or black. A similar toy by Yoshiya that replaces the robot dome with an astronaut's head was also sold in dark blue. The Pre-Production Sample is a classy silver with black and red accents.

The few sightings we've uncovered in toy catalogues from 1959 all show this silver version. In fact, Pre-Production Samples of other toys have shown up over the years and they're also silver, as are the catalogue photos for these other toys. It makes me think it might be some sort of industry standard thing; perhaps this color scheme works better when rendered as a high-contrast, black and white catalogue image. There's no conclusive evidence that the colors were chosen for this reason, though -- I'm only thinking out loud.



2. MECHANISM
As I mentioned earlier, Space Troopers feature off-center, reciprocating wheels. The silver Pre-Production Sample, however, has wheels with a centered axle. They roll normally. The wheels are also larger than those found on a production toy. This is really one of the most important differences between the two versions as it illustrates a major development of the toy from one stage to the next. It shows Yoshiya attempting to inject more play value into the toy -- but in the cheapest way possible. I'll tell you what, though. Those wobbly wheels on the final version are definitely pretty neat! Good job, Yoshiya!




3. BODY STAMPING
Given how rare all Pre-Production Samples are, they were most likely done in small batches. Remember, these weren't meant to reach the public so the toy companies didn't need nearly as many pieces. It's likely that they were also not held to the same level of quality control. See, while all tin toys have wrinkles in the metal around the more complex folds, they're much more prominent on this early version of the toy. Also, the smooth, rounded parts have a little bit of unevenness to them that you don't see on the final, production robots.

Basically, Yoshiya spit out these samples so they could have something to show off the toy. Production lead-times being what they were, there was ample opportunity to clean up and refine the manufacturing process before shipping out the robots.



4. CHROME
The strip of chrome running up the side of the toy is supposed to fit tightly, conforming to the robot's curves. The strip of chrome on the pre-production sample looks like it was assembled by a blind monkey. It's kind of a mess. But as I've argued in the past, that's a big part of the charm of pre-production toys and prototypes. These aren't perfect, and they should look a little rough around the edges. Pre-Production should look like Pre-Production!






There are only two or three known examples of the Pre-Production Space Trooper. Or so I've been told -- I'm sure some others are floating around... maybe.

But this particular Space Trooper is very important to me. See, I helped uncover it many years ago. A woman from Kansas had listed it on eBay back in 2004, and found herself inundated with questions from potential buyers demanding to know why it was silver. She quickly realized she was out of her depth, so she did some checking online and ended up finding my old web site. She sent me an email asking for help.

Of course, I had no idea what it was, either. But I did some digging and discovered that there was -- at the time -- only one or two other silver Space Troopers, and that they all might be a Pre-Production pieces. Whatever it was, it was valuable. Valuable enough that I couldn't come close to affording it.

However, I was able to hook the woman up with a friend of mine named Pat Karris. Pat had, at the time, the world's most complete Forbidden Planet/Robby the Robot collection. However, he didn't have this piece. Happily, Pat and the seller were able to work out a deal and the robot ended up on his shelf.

I was there the day he got it in the mail, and when I finally saw the toy up close, I fell desperately in love. I wanted one -- badly. But I knew it wouldn't happen. However, I consoled myself by remembering that Pat lived in NYC, which meant I could have visitation rights.

Fast forward a number of years. Pat decided to sell off a bunch of his robots (for a variety of reasons) and they ended up going to a man named Al Rosen. Rosen made a name for himself buying and selling baseball cards, and he's a legend in that hobby. When he caught the robot and space toy bug, he pursued the toys with the same passion -- and deep pockets. Soon, he had nearly everything. Every. Thing.

And then he decided to get out. His toys were auctioned off about a year-and-a-half ago by Smith House Toys in a two-part auction that I can't even talk about without my head exploding.

And yes, this little Space Trooper was on the block with everything else.

And no, I couldn't afford to buy it at the time.

But another friend of mine, Steve Jaspen, was able to snag it. He lives in New York, too, and it was nice having the robot "come home." Besides, my visitation rights were restored.

And then, about a week or two ago, I got a call from Steve. It turned out he had decided to sell this robot. He knew my history with the toy and wanted to offer it to me first. We discussed the price a bit, did a little back and forth, and then let the dust settle. "So," he asked. "Do you want it?"

Dumbest. Question. Ever. Just tell me where to send the check.

So here we are, one more Holy Grail crossed off the list. I've waited a loooooong time for this one. I never thought it'd shake lose, and now that it has, I feel like it's come full circle. I'm a very, very happy camper.

Leslie Nielsen (February 11, 1926 - November 28, 2010)

Leslie William Nielsen died early Sunday evening of complications stemming from pneumonia. He was 84.

This makes me very sad.

Nielsen was probably best known for his comedic roles in such movies as Airplane! and The Naked Gun (the latter based on a role he created in the TV show Police Squad). But for myself and most readers of this blog, he will forever be remembered as Commander John J. Adams in 1956's classic science-fiction film Forbidden Planet.


Publicity still of Nielsen as Commander John J. Adams in Forbidden Planet.


The one-sheet movie poster for Forbidden Planet.

In the film, Nielsen and his crew of the United Planets Cruiser C-57D land on Altair IV, where they meet Dr. Edward Morbius, his daughter Altaira, and Robby the Robot -- the sole survivors of a tragic expedition that landed on the planet 20 years earlier. They learn of the planet's former inhabitants, the Krell, a race of hyper-intelligent beings who mysteriously disappeared. And they discover that the planet harbors a dark secret, one that threatens the lives of everyone on the C-57D.


Nielsen with Anne Francis (Altaira) and Robby the Robot.

Nielsen and Francis.

Nielsen played Adams as a man of action whose sense of honor and duty sits side-by-side with his reputation as an intergalactic ladies man. He's noble, dashing, intelligent, and quick with a blaster -- an old-school space hero who gets the girl in the end. (If that's a spoiler, none of you have ever read a science fiction story or seen an SF movie from the 1950s.)


Half-sheet poster for Forbidden Planet.

I always admired how Nielsen took his character seriously. There was never any wink in his performance, never a sense that he was too good for the role, or that he was slumming it by appearing in a science fiction film. And as years went by, he never wavered in his attitude, always speaking fondly of the film and his part in it. (Unlike, say, Walter Pigeon, who played Morbius. He ran from Forbidden Planet like it was a swarm of bees, and always resented the promotional appearances he had to make to support the film. Oh well.)

Forbidden Planet holds a special place in the hearts of most robot collectors. Not only is it one of the best science fiction movies of all time -- and I'll fight anyone who tries to say differently! -- but it also gave us the great Robby the Robot. Toy manufacturers, in turn, transformed Robby into some of the most exciting toys ever to sit on a toy shelf. (And I'll fight anyone who tries to say differently about this, too!)


Various Robby-inspired toy robots. (back row) Mechanized Robot. (middle row, from left) wind up Planet Robot, Piston Robot, battery operated Planet Robot, and Moon Robot. (front row, from left) Space Trooper, battery operated Jupiter Robot, and wind up Jupiter Robot.

But as great as Robby was, and as near to my heart as he sits, my favorite character in Forbidden Planet was Commander Adams. For giving us that, as well as decades of goofy laughs, I humbly salute Leslie Nielsen. He will be fondly remembered and sorely missed.

Mechanical Moon Robot (Yonezawa / Early 1960s / Japan / 9 inches)

Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot was quickly adopted by toy makers, and subsequently released in a dizzying array of copyright-dodging redesigns. The Mechanical Moon Robot is one of my all time favorites.



Mechanical Moon Robot is better known to many collectors as Ribbon Robby, thanks to the three twists of metal inside his dome. Wind the key, throw the switch on his chest, and then watch as he walks forward while sparks light up his two head gels, and the metal ribbons change color as they rotate. It's a simple, subdued effect -- especially compared to the bells and whistles of his battery powered cousins -- but that's what what I love. The robot's kind of primitive, charmingly whimsical, and altogether fun.

The ribbons come in a couple color variations; the most common of them replaces the red -- I think -- with green. Something like that. None of these is more common than any other, and I can't imagine most collectors care too much about which they own. That said, I'm glad I've got the ribbons in red, yellow, and blue. Classic colors in the vintage toy world!



Yonezawa made some interesting decisions when designing the Ribbon Robby. First, there's that bright pink dome. Many examples of the toy appear to have clear domes; in reality, the color faded over time, and when looked at from the proper angle, you can usually pick up a slight tint. Interesting detail: Two screws lock the dome into place, one in the back and one on its right side. Why only the right side? I've got no idea.

Next, Yonezawa chose to paint the toy a strange, blueish-greenish-blackish color that changes ever so slightly depending on the quality and color temperature of the light. It's really quite lovely, especially when combined with the toy's light hammer-tone finish. Yonezawa apparently used slightly different batches of paint when doing the various runs of this toy. The color doesn't change, but one batch cures oddly over time, leading to a covering of fine lines known as "spidering." It doesn't really detract from the toy -- in fact, it adds a little character to what would have otherwise been a simple paint scheme -- and rarely effects the price. It's just the way some of the toys are. The other batches are more like mine, and have a slightly different paint composition that for whatever reason remains shiny and relatively smooth. There's a bit of spidering, but nothing like what you find on some of the Ribbons. Frankly, I think they both look nice, and I suppose it'd be valid for a hardcore collector to own one of each. I'm not that hardcore a collector, though, so I'll remain satisfied with my one, mint robot.




Finally, Yonezawa made the interesting decision to use a hard, blue rubber to form the toy's hands and "ears." It looks great, but time isn't always too nice to these rubber parts. Cracking and splitting is common, and even under the best of circumstances, the rubber hardens. Reproductions are available, though they never feel or look quite right.



The Ribbon Robby is definitely an uncommon toy, and downright rare in this condition, and I've wanted one since first entering the hobby. Soon after I'd joined Alphadrome, the online forum for robot and space toy collectors, Steve Jaspen invited me to his house to see his collection. He didn't know me from a hole in the wall, but we lived near each other and Steve's always been the type of guy to reach out to new collectors. I was just thrilled to have a chance to see some robots I'd only read about up until that point.

Steve's collection was -- and still is -- pretty darn amazing, with some toys that are so rare, even if you had a fortune in your wallet you still probably wouldn't be able to get your hands on them. But the piece that really jumped out at me was a strange looking Robby, a fairly simple robot with odd little ribbons behind a pink dome.

"Oh, you like that one?" asked Steve.

I sputtered some sort of affirmative. Maybe I drooled.

"You should see it in action," he replied. He wound it up, placed it on a table, and within seconds I was hooked. I knew that one day I'd get to own one.

Well, that day took longer than I thought it would, I'll admit. I almost snagged a Ribbon Robby at the Morphy auction last November, but instead I decided to bid on a rare Cragstan Ranger Robot. I didn't regret my decision -- the Ranger Robot was so clean that I knew I'd never find another as nice. But still, there was a little Robby-shaped hole in my heart that I really wanted to fill...

Finally, a few days ago, I made contact with a long-time dealer/collector named Jay Brotter at Robot Island. (I've known Jay for a few years.) It turns out he had this 'bot for sale, and at a price I couldn't possibly pass up. I immediately decided to buy it, and two days later -- a record for the Post Office, I'm sure -- it was sitting on my shelf. Given the condition, I'd say it was definitely worth the wait.

It's always nice when a toy that had taken up residence on my Want List finally ends up in my collection. There's a feeling of satisfaction that I don't always get when I pick up robots that I only just learn about. Of all the robots on my Want List, this one was sitting right up at the top. It makes getting it that much sweeter.

Battery Operated Planet Robot (Yoshiya / 1958 / Japan / 9 inches)

The Planet Robot is another example in a long line of toys that draw upon Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot for inspiration.



Forbidden Planet landed in theaters in 1956, a $2 million science-fiction adventure story that combined wonderful characters, thrilling action, a mysterious plot, lavish sets and props, and, of course, a robot that would go on to influence all future Hollywood robots, droids, and other assorted mechanical men: Robby.

In a pre-Star Wars world, toy licensing for films was relatively unheard of, and MGM, the film's studio, never bothered to produce any space ships, ray guns, action figures, or robots of their own. Happily for us, though, many companies rushed in to fill the void. They did so carefully, of course, in an effort to avoid a barrage of law suits. As a result, we have many different toy robots from the Fifties and Sixties that look a whole lot like Robby, but with many interesting tweaks that give each piece a distinct personality. (For some great examples, check out these past posts: Mechanized Robot, Piston Action Robot, Door Robot, Jupiter Robot, and this one on cinematic robots. Also check out Pat Karris' amazing collection of vintage Robby toys at mechanizedrobot.com.)

In action, the battery operated Planet Robot walks forward while its chest and face light up. At the same time, the vertical scanner ring on the left side of its dome rotates. All in all, not the most complex action ever created, but that doesn't make it any less cool to play with.




What's always most attracted me to this toy is the metallic blue litho. I've said it before and I'll keep on saying it until someone inscribes it in the Big Book of Truth: Metallic blue is the coolest color ever, and looks great on not only toy robots, but also ray guns, rockets, space cars, houses, and grandma's hair.



The Planet Robot is one of the longest -- maybe the longest -- produced robots in the hobby. Evidence suggests that it was on the shelves in one form or another from 1958 through at least 1972 -- and probably longer than that. Of course, it mutated quite a bit during that time, and as such, you can build entire sub collections of just Planet Robots.

Besides the version of the battery operated Planet featured in this post, there's also one with rubber, three-fingered hands that more closely mirror the hands on the original Robby the Robot. As far as we know, the toy was only available in blue.

The Planet Robot was also made with a wind up mechanism that features sparks in its chest and face plate. The wind up Planet Robot was offered with both rubber and tin hands. It came in a variety of colors, including black (most common), olive green, and blue (very rare). There might be a few others -- it's hard to keep track.

But the variations don't end there. Later versions of the wind up Planet Robot saw the introduction of slightly thinner legs, smaller "ear caps" and scanner rings, and flatter face grills. These differences are often rather subtle, and can sometimes only really be seen when two different versions of the toy are posed side by side. However, at the very end of it's run, the Planet Robot underwent one more significant transformation, as Yoshiya introduced a plastic head and plastic hands.

This later version was quite common for a while; rumors suggested that a warehouse full of the toys was discovered somewhere. I do know that at least one antique toy store in NYC -- now no longer with us -- was selling them mint-in-box well into the late Seventies. Regardless, the supply has dried up considerably, making even this last iteration of the Planet Robot kind of tricky to come by.

This Planet Robot is particularly important to me. I first saw it when I visited Steve Jaspen's collection early on in my own collecting career. Steve was the first collector to ever invite me to his house to see his toys; he's the first vintage space toy collector I'd ever met face to face. We've been friends ever since, and in the ensuing years, I've learned so much about the hobby from the man. I definitely consider him a mentor within the scene.

Steve's the kind of collector who is endlessly refining and focusing his collection; he doesn't have the most toys on the block, but he's definitely got some of the best. He's always selling or trading a piece here and a piece there, and the day that I visited him, one of the toys slated for eviction from his shelves was the battery operated Planet Robot. I was definitely interested in it, but Steve, being the nice guy that he is, actually turned me off of the sale. "You don't want this one. I bought it at the height of the market and I'm trying to get a lot for it. You can definitely find one for less money." Fair enough, and I dropped the subject.

A few months later I get an email. It's Steve, and he's reconsidered the Planet Robot sale. "It's never going to get what I originally paid for it, so if I have to let it go for cheap, I'd rather have it end up in your collection." About a week later, on a chilly, blustery day, I met Steve outside his Midtown office. It must have looked like some weird drug deal going down -- me handing him a thick wad of cash, him handing off a strangely wrapped package. But no one called the cops, and a little while later the robot was on my shelf.

That's why this is an important one for me. Not just because it's a robot I always loved, and not just because it came from the collection of a good friend. No, this toy's important to me because of what it represents. This hobby can be so cutthroat. I've seen collectors smile at each other while wheeling and dealing behind the scenes to screw each other out of toys. I've seen friendships dissolve over fights for toys. I've seen scams and I've seen what can only be described as outright criminality. All because of toys. Toys!

But at the same time, I've seen spectacular generosity. I've watched people step aside at auctions so that friends can get a toy they've always wanted. I've seen collectors lend each other extraordinary amounts of money so an important deal won't fall through. I've seen dealers sell toys to friends for zero profit. I've watched collectors give toys to other collectors because their friendships were so strong.

And that's the spirit behind my battery operated Planet Robot. It represents the friendship and camaraderie within the hobby -- friendships that, I hope, will last as long as the toys themselves.

Piston Action Robot, a.k.a. "Pug Robby" (Nomura / 1957 / Japan / 8.5 inches)

Piston Action Robot. This relative to Robby the Robot gets his name thanks to the pistons in his head. But among collectors, the toy's small stature and stumpy legs have earned him another nick-name: Pug Robby.

This is one of those robots that I dreamed about owning when I first began collecting. It's a fun take on a common design theme, with strange proportions and an bold, metallic paint scheme. The toy's got so much going on: The pistons in his head light up and pop up and down -- using compressed air, believe it or not -- while the toy walks forward. Those pistons also happen to make a wonderful clacking noise; it's not enough to drive mom crazy, but the toy definitely announces itself to whoever's in the room.

The arms on the Piston Action Robot can swing side to side. But not very much.

The body design clearly pulls from Nomura's flagship Robby-based toy, the Mechanized Robot (discussed here). The basic shape, the neck stamping, the mechanism inside the dome -- Nomura recycled it all, and still managed to create a toy with its own unique identity.

Part of the robot's charm comes from its walking mechanism, which uses a system similar to the one found on Yoshiya's Jupiter Robot (discussed here). The feet and legs are molded together, and move back and forth. Inside the feet, though, are wheeled "skates," which are positioned on a pivot. As the legs swing forward and back the skate stays flat on the ground. This all combines to create an illusion of heel-toe walking but without destabilizing the robot and sending him toppling to the ground. Ingenious!

You can see the ratchet mechanism on the back wheel that helps propel the robot forwards.

The Pug Robby was available in three basic configurations: gold body/blue legs/red chest panel; silver body/red legs/chrome chest panel; and silver body/red legs/red chest panel. Each of these toys was powered by two C-cell batteries. While the latter is slightly rarer than the first two, generally speaking, they're all fairly common.

However, a rare version of the toy, powered by D-cells, featured rotating antennas. This variation came in two colors: gold body/black legs; and metallic robin's-egg blue body/dark red legs. Both of these are extremely rare, and generally sell for three or four times what a regular Pug Robby gets.

I feel kind of lucky to own my toy. I'd originally bought a silver Pug, and when it arrived, it was definitely not in the condition described by the seller. Not only was it missing two tabs, but it also had a replaced remote control wire. The piece of cardboard inside the remote control was nowhere to be found, either. The auction clearly said "no returns," and the seller refused to even return my emails. With nothing else to do, I put the toy on my shelf and chalked it up to a learning experience.

Then, about a year later, a beautiful gold version of the robot and its box appeared on eBay with a ridiculously low buy-it-now. The only problem: Its dome was a mess. After giving it some thought, though, I decided to buy the toy anyway. Why? Because I knew I could swap the messed up dome for the clean one on my silver Pug, and then list the messed up toy on eBay. Which I did. But unlike the original seller, I carefully pointed out all the flaws -- including the screwy dome. (Not that there was any way to miss it!) When the auction ended, I'd gotten back about two thirds of what I originally paid for the silver one.

Then, after some careful consideration, I decided to sell the box that came with my gold Pug. It's a rare, desirable box, and it sold for almost as much as I paid for the toy and the box together! In the end, I think my gold Pug Robby cost me about a quarter of what the toy normally gets.

The moral of the story? If you slip up when collecting, don't freak out. Yeah, mistakes can be costly. But with some patience and a little careful planning, most mistakes can also be corrected.

Toys That Never Were: Classic Robot Cinema

I've often mentioned the impact that Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot had on vintage toys. The company Nomura, for instance, used him as a model no less than three times -- with numerous variations to each of those designs. Other companies followed suit, and that familiar domed head, those stubby arms, and puffy, "sausage-stack" legs became common on many kids' -- and later, collectors' -- toy shelves.

Two of Nomura's Robby the Robot inspired toys: Mechanized Robot (left) and Piston Robot (a.k.a. "Pug Robby")

But Robby wasn't the only robot roaming Hollywood's back lots. Science-Fiction films of the 1950s gave audiences numerous mechanical men to root for -- and against. Some of the greatest include the stoic and sublime Gort from The Day The Earth Stood Still; the robotic invaders from Target Earth; and the menacing creation from Satan's Satellites. Each provided a fantastic opportunity for some fun toys. 

Sadly, manufacturers never acted upon this opportunity, and it drives me nuts. But in the days before licensing deals and tie-ins, synergistic marketing and cross-over opportunities, Burger King glasses and McDonald's Happy Meals, movie studios just weren't thinking about turning their characters into toys. So while kids could spend a couple hours in a dark theater being wowed -- or terrified -- by these robots, they never had a chance to play with them at home. Consequently, they're not around for us to collect today. 

Not that some collectors haven't done their best to rectify the situation. Over the last 20 or so years, some of the more enterprising members of the hobby have tried to solve the problem of these non-existent toys by turning their talents towards the creation of custom pieces. Many came out remarkably well, a testament to the builder's skill and passion. However, only a small amount of these handmade toys were ever produced, and they're difficult to find today. Most collectors who do own them aren't looking to give them up.

One toy that did make it into production a few years ago -- and is still being made -- was Rocket USA's wind-up Gort figure. It's a well made toy, and features a walking mechanism as well as a flip-up visor. Sadly, unlike it's cinematic inspiration, it doesn't fire a death ray.

Rocket USA's Gort toy. 

It's also worth noting that B9, the popular robot from the TV series Lost In Space, managed to make his way out of Hollywood and into toy stores. By the 1960s, studios were finally licensing their properties, and this allowed the company Remco to release what has become one of the most commonly found versions of the character. While not super-accurate, the striking, plastic toy has today become a popular collectible. Another version of the robot was released by Hong Kong's AHI in the early 1970s, and still another -- similar to the Remco -- was put out by a Mexican company. Others followed suit (though not all were licensed).

The Remco B9 (top) and AHI's version of the robot. 

Still, that's only three robots. It's okay, I guess -- there are more than enough Robby and B9 variations to keep me busy for years. But as I'm sitting here, late at night, thinking about my collection, I can't help but feel a bit wistful about all the robots that might have been. 

Space Toys Online: The Pat Karris Collection

There's just no understating the impact Robby the Robot, from the MGM science fiction classic Forbidden Planet, has had on the world of space toys. But in case you don't believe that one character could remain such a key part of the hobby's history, I direct you to Mechanized Robot (www.mechanizedrobot.com), the online home of Pat Karris' toy collection. 

In his time as a collector, Pat Karris has bought and sold more robots than I'll ever own. But he ultimately decided to focus his time and talents on amassing the biggest, best, most complete collection of Forbidden Planet related toys and ephemera in the world. Robots, space ships, posters, photos, books -- yep, they're all in the collection. New, old, common, rare -- he doesn't discriminate, everything's in the collection. His relentless pursuit of these toys, keen knowledge of the hobby, and pure, unadulterated passion for robots not only built the kind of collection most of us can only ever dream about, but turned him into a living legend within the hobby. Plus, he's a helluva nice guy.

I first met Pat a few years ago after buying a reproduction Mr. Atomic robot from him. We met in a Starbucks on Astor Place in New York City, just two guys drinking some Joe and talking robots. Little did I realize that we'd started a weekly -- at least! -- tradition that would last the next couple years, until Pat decided to move out of the city and into the great unknown. (Okay, he moved upstate, but I can't resist a little bit of drama).

Pat has had a profound effect on my development as a collector, offering endless advice and insight, regaling me with tales of the good old days when toy shows reigned supreme, and guiding me through more than a couple harrowing experiences involving extremely rare toys and obscene amounts of money. If anyone deserves a tip of the hat for making me the collector I am today, I'd say it's him.

...No, he's not dead. Sheesh, you people! I'm just taking an opportunity to give a shout out to a legendary collector and a top-notch friend. Now enough of the touchy-feely stuff, go check out his toys!

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. 

Mechanized Robot (Nomura / 1957 / Japan / 13 inches)

Some robots are born classic. It's in their gears or something, an unmistakable aura of greatness that overwhelms every spaceship they fly, every mad scientist they rebel against, and every maiden they carry off for morally questionable -- not to mention biologically unfathomable -- activities. They're walking, clicking, blinking superstars of steel, and next to them, all other bits of technology look like wooden clubs.

Well, guess what? Next to Robby the Robot, star of Forbidden Planet and The Invisible Boy, those other robots look like punks.

Which sort of explains why Mechanized Robot is such a popular piece of tin. He's the closest vintage toy manufacturers could come to appropriating the Hollywood icon's likeness without incurring the wrath of MGM's lawyers. Nonetheless, there's no mistaking the toy's inspiration.

Mechanized Robot features a nice walking mechanism that causes the toy to move in a long, sweeping circle. At the same time, the pistons under his dome bounce and light up, while the translucent plastic in his neck glows a rich green. 

This is one of the first vintage robots I ever wanted, but it was also one I never thought I'd have a chance to own. It's not that expensive, relatively speaking, and, because so many were manufactured, they make regular appearances on eBay. But when I started out in the hobby, I imposed strict limits on my spending -- and man-oh-man does that sound so naive! -- and this toy fell decidedly outside those limits. But then a girl I was seeing suddenly dumped me, and my life got a little chaotic. Like many people in similar situations, I turned to therapy. 

Okay, okay... Retail therapy. 

Within a week, I had my Mechanized Robot, and it was an epiphany. I'd crossed some invisible financial line and a whole new world of toys opened up to me. Toys I couldn't afford, sure, but when you're nursing a broken heart, rent and food and clothing become surprisingly inconsequential. My shelves began filling up at an alarming rate, but with a much higher caliber of toy. (Actually, this was literally the case; at about this time, I began collecting space guns in earnest.)  

Mechanized Robot is one of those toys that underwent a few tweaks and changes over its long production run. The very first retail version of the robot was available in silver or black and featured small, knurled knobs on its battery doors. For some unknown reason, the silver color was abandoned, making this variation extremely rare and valuable today. (Rumors abound as to why Nomura chose to stop producing the toy in silver; the most popular says that the company thought Robby the Robot was silver because they'd only seen black and white photos of the character when they began designing the toy. This seems doubtful for reasons that will be made clear in a moment.) About a year later, the final version of the toy, available only in black, replaced the knurled battery door knobs with "butterfly" knobs, which were much easier for children to turn. 

However, the toy's most significant evolutionary step happened before it was made available to the public. Nomura first created a salesman's sample of the toy, a kind of prototype, that had significantly shorter legs and used C-cell batteries. This toy had more accurate proportions and did a better job of capturing Robby's unique look. However, the C-cell battery was woefully underpowered, and the toy would run down too quickly. Nomura was forced to retool the robot's legs for the final production run, expanding them to accept D-cells. Needless to say, the earlier, shorter variations are some of the rarest toys in the hobby. 

The so-called C-cell Robby was available in both silver and black. This helps dispel the rumor that Nomura thought Robby was supposed to be silver; if this was the case, why produce a black version for salesmen? The most likely reason for producing both colors is that Nomura thought they'd both sell. However, when Forbidden Planet reached theaters, kids probably decided that if they were going to own a slightly abstracted version of their new favorite robot, they were damned sure it would be the right color. Sales on the silver might have struggled, resulting in the company discontinuing it. (This is all speculation, though, and I'm open to other possible reasons for Nomura's dropping the extremely cool silver paint job.) 

You know, I actually owned a black C-cell salesman sample Mechanized Robot for a very brief time. It's an extremely long story that due to intergalactic treaties, a top-secret rating, and at least a dozen pinky-swears must remain mostly undisclosed. I do have clearance to say that snagging the toy involved more than a week of stressful back-and-forth phone calls; two double crosses; a suitcase of unmarked bills; one idiot who shall remain nameless; a master tactician known to the world only as "Robot Hunter"; and a hero who will forever be remembered in legend and song as Donald "The Bag Man" Conner.

This was one of those epic deals that inevitably go awry. Like the plot to every Guy Ritchie movie, it ends badly, but not so badly that everyone doesn't walk away with a small piece of the action and most of their body parts intact. So even though I got the toy, I couldn't afford to actually keep it. But everyone came away with a little bit more money than they started with, and, frankly, we've all got a great story to tell. 

Not to you, of course. We can only talk about it amongst ourselves, and even then, we have to drink enough alcohol to make sure we forget the conversation ever happened. But trust me, it's a killer story.

Man, I love this robot.