The Children's Hour: II

While Superman represents the outer limits of fantasy in the current crop of radio thrillers for the kiddies, Captain Midnight's show contains features common to most of the quasi-credible serials. The hero is surrounded by at least two youthful subordinates, and usually has a humorous character whose harmless stupidity serves as a foil for the heavy witticisms of the others. Villains are either petty and dumb, or sinister and intelligent.

The main difference between the Captain Midnight and Superman shows is that the Captain can't "leap tall buildings at a single bound," or perform any of Superman's other specialties. His scope of activities is thereby diminished, along with the quality of his antagonists. The villains may still be mad geniuses, but they don't pitch planets around. Some of them do threaten mankind, although on a lesser scale, of course.

Just last week, Captain Midnight was engaged in subduing a character called "the Sword," who was preparing to set fire to military installations with inflammable spray. It was evident that the Sword was in the pay of some agency hostile to the United States, but the script never get beyond mysterious references to "they," and a rendezvous in South America.

This Sword, by the way, was a most unusual villain. He was obviously cultured, owned a vaguely-British accent, and frequently employed such radio invective as "you scoundrels" and "treacherous dogs." He also discussed his schemes with his mother, a creepy old sadist whose pulpy tones probably sent dozens of little tykes howling off to bed.

While the Sword was intelligent (in a treasonable way), Captain Midnight combines the spirit of a college quarterback with the sagacity of a Pinkerton operative. Perhaps it is unfair to suggest that a streak of anti-intellectualism runs through this program and its fellows, but the blackest villains are generally smarter than the heroes, and considerably more sophisticated.

This primitive moral pattern is also apparent in two other of the quasi-credible series--Jack. Armstrong and Sky King. The bad men aren't so slick and brainy as the Sword, but the two heroes are correspondingly less able than Midnight. Armstrong's prowess as a crook-catcher rests on the bale of Wheatics he consumes each morning. Sky King is the executive director of troops of eager youngsters who fly all over the hemisphere making mischief, apparently on leave of absence from high school.

Most of these serials deal with adventure ideas that have been worked to death already. But occasionally, script-writers emerge with some fortunate stroke that is worthy of Chester Gould, or possibly Al Capp. The Sword was such a creation, and anybody who cares to endure several dozen kiddie shows might find another. Incidentally, every program is running some sort of contest. Prizes are usually bikes or toy pistols, but once in a while a car or Bendix pops into the lineup. Such items are worth trying for. It means eating lots of Ralston and swilling Ovaltine, but the competitors are minor league, and the potential rewards are staggering. Tom Mix, for instance, is currently allowing winners to name their own prizes--up to $2,000--which could buy a new car, a pile of suits, or a trunkful of funny books.