Well, so long, BraveStarr. It’s been a blast. Or, at least, I wish it had been. Specifically, I wish I could blast you out of an airlock. This series has been a bit of a chore, in truth, thanks in no small part to the unremitting idiocy of its lead character. Even on his best days, BraveStarr has an air of swaggering smugness about him which is irritating in the extreme, and he usually couples this with active stupidity, resulting in him being almost entirely unlikeable.
The supporting characters are a little better. Well, some of them are. Thirty/Thirty is, admittedly, a creation of genius. Who can’t love a robotic horse with anger management issues? His demented outbursts of disproportionate violence elevated many an episode out of the doldrums, and I must give a special shout-out to his voice actor for sterling work.
Judge JB is reasonable enough as these things go; it’s good to see a strong female character who never adopts the clichéd role of damsel-in-distress, but on the other hand, she does often serve as an outlet for BraveStarr’s sleazier instincts, and as such her appearances weren’t always welcome. Her father McBride is a good role model for disabled children; he is capable of getting on with his life and doesn’t make a big deal of his inability to walk.
Of course, the other two main goodies are far less entertaining. Fuzz, obviously, has earned a special place in hell for his contributions to this series: if you can imagine Orko at his absolute worst, then that’s Fuzz on his best behaviour. Seriously, who thought a squeaking idiot who can barely string a sentence together would be a pleasing inclusion? And why did there have to be so many episodes revolving around him and his stupid issues?
The Shaman is the other main offender. Like the Sorceress from He-Man, he’s presented as a mentor and dispenser of wisdom for our hero, but he never seems to be the least bit of use whatsoever. Instead, he spends all his time sitting at a fire in his house and babbling away with rambling anecdotes of only tangential relevance. You know it’s going to be a tedious five minutes when he utters the phrase, “Hm. This reminds me of when you were young, BraveStarr.”
The blandness of the heroes is often counteracted by the theatricality of the villains, but unfortunately I can’t say I particularly liked any of them either. Of the henchmen, Sandstorm was the best, coming across as genuinely evil and conniving, but he still wouldn’t make the Top 100 Baddies poll in any respectable magazine. Thunderstick was a poor man’s Trapjaw, Vipra never got a chance to shine, and Cactus Head and Skuzz were just annoying. The less said about Hog Tie, the pig in the traffic warden’s uniform, the better.
Stampede never particularly managed to persuade me that he was of any interest whatsoever, which leaves Tex Hex, whose appearances I did mostly enjoy. I appreciated the efforts of some episodes to give him a back story and make him a more complex figure than simply a cackling villain, though this was taken a bit far in the Christmas Carol remake of Tex’s Terrible Night. Tex Hex seemed underused somewhat, especially towards the tail end of the series, but it was generally a pleasure to see him.
With the characters discussed, that leaves us with the stories, some of which took a very interesting approach. The writers were obviously keen to tackle big issues, which they did with varying degrees of success. The Ballad of Sara Jane was a relatively muddled parable about responsible gun ownership; The Price was an effective shot at drugs, but I remain unconvinced of its necessity; Memories was a decent effort at exploring parents marrying new partners; Revolt of the Prairie People tackled the troubling subject of detaining people based on their race; Sunrise, Sunset was a bloody fantastic look at how crime destroys lives. There were also straight-up rollicking adventure stories, as well as a borderline mental two-parter about Sherlock Holmes, and – unusually for Filmation – only one story about someone running away, thank Christ.
And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for: my pick of BraveStarr’s five best and five worst episodes….
Highlights
5. Fallen Idol. This was the second episode of the series, and it was the first indication I had that the series would be tackling some fairly hefty subject matter. BraveStarr’s former mentor is now wanted for murder, and BraveStarr comes to realise that his role model is in fact no hero. Offering no easy answers, it ends surprisingly bleakly, which was both unexpected and appreciated.
4. Rampage. It only took the writers six episodes to realise how brilliant Thirty/Thirty could be. Choosing to distract BraveStarr with a perfunctory plotline designed purely to get him out of town, the writers then allowed Thirty/Thirty to take centre-stage. He did not disappoint, demonstrating his disproportionate violence and complete lunacy to great effect. Hilarious, if a little worrying.
3. Memories. Back at the more serious end of the scale, Memories offers a solid action-packed story coupled with a surprisingly mature message for children whose parents remarry. Judge JB, McBride and Commander Kane take the lead, leaving BraveStarr looking like even more of a spare part than usual.
2. BraveStarr and the Three Suns. It was a toss-up between this one and the much later The Blockade, since both were utterly mad, but this instalment just managed to take the biscuit, what with its mental plotline concerning a guy called Moribund stealing two of the three suns and hiding them in a kerium mine. Loopy but brilliant.
1. Sunrise, Sunset. Standing head and shoulders above any other BraveStarr episode, this one is perhaps the only real must-see in the entire series. It’s a brilliant examination of the less glamorous side of the life of the criminal and – perhaps even more unusually – takes the time to show us a truly downbeat side to BraveStarr’s job too. It’s hugely emotionally affecting, yet never gets too heavy thanks to some well-judged humour. It’s a winner, in pretty much every sense.
Lowlights
It was relatively easy to come up with my list of five highlights. By contrast, I easily found ten lowlights, and pretty much any one of them could justifiably take the bottom spot on this list. Still, with very careful consideration, I have said goodbye to such atrocities as An Older Hand, Ship of No Return and Night of the Bronco-Tank, which were pipped to the post by the below appalling efforts.
5. Runaway Planet. This one was really peculiar. There’s nothing wrong with it as such, but it somehow epitomises a going-through-the-motions approach to making an episode. It felt completely soulless, and as such left me feeling utterly empty inside. When a cartoon gives you a sense of the immense pointlessness of creation, it’s safe to say something’s gone wrong.
4. Space Zoo. Fuzz is kidnapped by some moron trying to collect rare animals, and eventually manages to secure his release by teaching his captor about the power of love. I’d say more, but we’ve got another infuriating Fuzz episode to discuss in a minute, which is going to leave me sounding completely psychotic, so I’m not keen to add to that impression here.
3. Big Thirty and Little Womble. This early effort introduced a child Prairie Person called Wimble who, unbelievably, achieved the incredible feat of being more annoying than Fuzz. Wimble then somehow contrived to get adopted by Thirty/Thirty, which had at least the potential to give us a vaguely amusing fish out of water episode. Needless to say, it did not deliver on this potential, earning itself the Number 3 spot for actually managing to be irritating enough to permanently raise my blood pressure into the danger zone.
2. The Good, the Bad, and the Clumsy. Fuzz cocks things up for BraveStarr, resulting in the Mayor wanting to fire him and Fuzz feeling sorry for himself. Somehow, however, Fuzz manages to save the day against the odds and recovers his self-worth. That’s incredibly annoying, obviously, but the episode goes above and beyond by wrapping up the story at around about the 15 minute mark, filling the remaining five minutes with BraveStarr and Fuzz rambling on and on about all manner of inconsequential infuriating bollocks. It made me want to murder them both in inventive ways that would result in me being awarded a lengthy police interview if I even mentioned them online.
1. Brother’s Keeper. You may remember this one, since it wasn’t all that long ago. It’s the one where literally everything BraveStarr says or does is either completely deranged, morally reprehensible, or – when he’s really putting in an effort – both. The episode portrays BraveStarr as a role model, but the behaviours he models are those of a psychopath skilled in emotional blackmail. Don’t let your kids watch this one.
Closing thoughts
Well, as mentioned above, it’s been a blast. Goodbye, BraveStarr. I’m glad I’ll never see your stupid face again. Goodbye, Thirty/Thirty. I wish you could crossover into some other series, like Game of Thrones. You might fit in there. And to the rest of you: so long, you varmints.
BraveStarr Episode Review Site 