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The Good Go-Bots
While most fanboys hated Go-Bots, its not so much the fact that they had crappy toys that causes it. Moreover, it's because the characters on the show often did totally unimpressive things like stockpile berries and hide behind bushes to avoid confrontation. They weren't exactly war machines, and most kids felt that there wasn't much point being 20' tall and made of steel if you're not gonna do cool stuff like walking through fires or crushing baby skulls with your bare hands. The hate transcended to the ill-fated series of toys, but if you can discount the ones that sucked which were peppered across the line like some unearthly toy disease, there actually were a few gems.
Sure, it'd be more fun for me to show you the worst toys in the Go-Bots series, but I don't have all day. It'd be a much quicker exercise to tell you which ones actually worked, since they're so few and far between and I won't need to dream up as many expletives to portray my disappointment. Besides, chances are good that most of you haven't been exposed to the brighter side of Go-Bots lore - mostly because in its entirety the line had less bright spots than a smoker who drinks eighteen cups of coffee daily's teeth - but partially because the toys were far cheaper and all you collector types may want to search here at the low end before forgoing your house down payments so you could afford a MIB Bluestreak. First up: Mighty Go-Bots!
 
One of the biggest complaints about the original Go-Bots figures was that they were small and easily breakable. In a compromise, Tonka decided to market some new figures - and while they're still pretty damn easy to break, at least they're a little bit bigger. 'Might Go-Bots' were far more impressive than their earlier counterparts, standing at around 7 or 8 inches tall, way more detailed and durable. Some of the figures were just larger versions of the small ones, (Cy-Kill and Leader-1) there were a number of characters forged exclusively for this subset.
They all looked nice and utilized diecast metal many times instead of shitty plastic, but the construction of these vehicles didn't really lend themselves to good robot modes. More directly, 85% of the Super Go-Bots look like baby chickens when they're robots - either having no arms or arms so small they're completely pointless, and legs that shouldn't be able to support the weight of a bottle of St. Ives Eye & Face Stress Gel, much less a six-ton giant android warrior.
 
Hey look, I really don't know, maybe some of you out there actually liked the Go-Bots cartoon. I admit, I wasn't as interested in a high level of quality storytelling in what amounted to 30-minute toy commercials back when I was six, but I couldn't possibly mark it as a 'good show' since I'm sure it says 'Poor Man's Prime' on Leader-1's tombstone right under his stupid name. The point is, at least for me, the hard sell had to shine through in the actual ads. The commercial for the Super Go-Bots was interesting, because it had the figures infiltrating a little kid's bedroom and looking way menacing until he realizes that he can just play with them instead of being afraid. Those Go-Bots must be mighty pissed that their boss sent them on a mission against a creature 100 times larger than they are, not to mention a creature who likes to force random transformations on 'em like an aspiring sex offender.
One of my best toy memories somehow finds its origins within this line - I was given the supersized version of Leader-1 as a gift along the way, and compared to my Transformers toys, he didn't carry much weight. Actually, as soon as I got home with it, he was tossed aside like a cheap whore in favor of my robot action figures who were more aesthetically pleasing and who wouldn't break if I played with 'em. Leader-1 was the surrogate victim figure - the guy I'd have all my cooler toys beat up. Within a few hours, I managed to chip his cheap wings, so I was left not only with a figure I never really wanted in the first place, but a figure with a chipped wing who no longer even had that new car smell we all sought after. Quickly, I worked up some tears and presented the broken toy to my mother as if I actually cared about it. One trip to the toy store later, and I ended up with three new Voltron action figures.
I didn't like those much either, but a grand total of four shitty toys usually beats out one good one. There's strength in numbers.
 
Click here to download the Super Go-Bots commercial! (small .rm file)
The Go-Bots Command Center was way too cool to be a part of this line - a playset so unique and interesting, I'm surprised they haven't reused the mold for a newer series. It wasn't particularly well made or even that pretty, but when you have an action figure fortress that can transform into a giant robot that dwarfs all your other toys, you know you've found a winner. I stopped collecting action figures awhile back, mostly because I had sold off most of my giant collection to buy a new computer and furniture a few years back. The decision is one I regret because the computer died after six months and all the furniture I bought has burn holes and coffee stains all over it. Believe me, I didn't give up my 100% complete pair of Jetfires for anything less than posh. Before I get lost in this paragraph, which happens a lot more than you'd think, let me jump to the point: I really haven't gone out of my way to buy any old toys for quite some time, but this Command Center is one I'd still lay out cash for. The way I see it, this thing is tall enough in robot mode for me to pretend it's my new friend, and I could bring him along for little road trips and he'd be the only person I know who wouldn't complain about my non-working car air conditioner. That's definitely worth thirty bucks or so.
There was a joyous four-step process in attaining this monstrous toy, so for all of you who've forgotten how that went, I'll run it by you again. I know I'm not the only kid who delighted in this exercise...
Phase 1: Box Admiration -- If you were at the toy store with your parents, and they'd agreed to buy you something, chances were that they didn't have the most expensive toy on the planet in mind. At best, you were going home with a Moss Man figure and a broken heart. If you wanted something like the Go-Bots Command Center, you really had to lay it on thick. 'Box Admiration' refers to the phony, loving stares towards the toy's packaging - the 'look' that'd push your parents to the brink of pity and force them to buy you the stupid playset. You had to play your cards carefully here. Tears could work, but crying was always risky since it could easily backfire with your parents telling you you're spoiled and deciding not to buy you anything. Box Admiration is an acquired skill, it's not something you're born with the talent for pulling off properly. The only way to successfully march through this phase of the process was knowing the exact and perfect mixture of maturity and despair.
Phase 2: Opening The Box -- I think most kids enjoyed opening their toys a lot more than actually playing with 'em. This was the fun part. Phase Two refers to the careful process of slicing the tape and opening the box up. No, most kids didn't just tear their boxes apart. See, we all had this idea that we were going to save all our toy boxes. For the first few days after getting a toy, a kid treated the packaging of his hot new toy like a baby, cuddling it, caressing it, keeping it safe. We lived under this huge false notion that we could stockpile all our toy boxes and keep 'em forever. Of course, within a week, our interest in the box decreased and we kicked the crap out of it. But for the few days before that, cardboard was king.
Phase 3: Construction -- If you broke a toy of this magnitude, you may as well find a way to fit yourself into a microwave and turn it on from the inside, because any kid knows death is a more attractive prospect than ruining a new toy. That's why this is such a crucial phase in the process. You've gotta find the right person to help you snap together the various plastic pieces, the right person to aid you in the sticker placement, and the right person to coach you on the transformation. This isn't a universal thing - your sister might've been great with the sticker part, but if you listened to her on how to turn the fortress into a robot, you'd break your new toy into sixteen pieces. The Construction Phase requires proper planning and thoughtful insight. And, above everything else, knowing not to attempt the put-together by yourself. You need a professional. A professional toy put-togetherer.
Phase 4: Admiration -- Before you get down and dirty to play with your new toy, you've gotta appreciate it's beauty like it's a Picasso and you're someone pretending to be artsy. You don't have to spend hours on this, even ten seconds will suffice. It's important because it'll let your toy know you're in love with it, making it feel really sweet and nice and insuring that it won't do anything malicious like snap your fingers off.
The Command Center featured an elevator shaft, three floors, and a huge robot head that has the same expression on it's face as the guy does on those choking hazard posters in Chinese restaurants. It was an unparalleled marvel in a line chock full of such uncreative crap, but more importantly than all that: it was a whole lot more fun doodling in coloring books with this guy than a stupid My Buddy doll. It's bad enough little guys needed toys to serve as surrogate friends - we didn't need to add fuel to the fire by making ourselves appear to embrace same-sex relationships in a time where it's just not gonna fly. I could kiss the Command Center without raising eyebrows, but man, one slip of the hand with a My Buddy doll and pretty soon your friends are gonna start buying you flutes. I'm not sure what that means either, it just sounded serviceable at 10 AM. Okay, last one for the day...
 
Rock Narlies were easily my favorite entry into the entire Go-Bots line, even though they're not robots and they don't transform. Let me set it up: as the line's popularity started dying out, Tonka started marketing some pretty strange versions of the original figures. Rock Lords, for example. They did transform, but only into pastel-colored rocks. These Narlies were their little comrades - fuzzy monsters with pullback action and jaw-chomping madness. They were sort of like Norfin Troll dolls, but these were okay for boys to like because nobody considered them fairies or leprechauns.
They worked because there were really no other figures like them - there still hasn't been. Rock Narlies only stood about three inches tall, but they were covered in bright fur and had big fangs. Who cares about size when you've got attributes like that? Neat enough for kids who weren't into Go-Bots at all to want, these guys were probably the last part of the entire Go-Bots series that were worth a dime to anyone. Transformers had beat them out in every last contest to date, but really - there were no Autobots or Decepticons covered in lifelike hair. If you wanted a toy armpit, you had to get it from the Go-Bots. They cornered the market.
 
I made the critical mistake of pouring He-Man slime all over my Rock Narlie, rendering him a crusty mess and totally useless. I've mentioned this before - all kids had the intense desire to ruin their toys in progressively stranger ways once they got tired of 'em. It wasn't an intentional thing, it was almost always subconscious. It's like we have this innate unspoken desire to oust the old and usher in the new, and to do this, we've got to kill our older toys in any way we can. Sometimes, just breaking their arms off won't suffice. Rock Narlies don't have arms. Sliming them is the only way to really do them in, unless you're willing to spend a few hours trying to pull the crazy-glued fur off its plastic back. And even that has some merit, since you can use the scalped fur to form little Viking capes for your Zartan and Zarana figures.
To download the Rock Narlies commercial, click here!
So you see, Go-Bots weren't all bad. They were just half bad. With that, their only real flaw is that you can't say 'these things ain't half bad!' to describe 'em. Is that enough to warrant the years-long hatred directed towards them? Hey, I'm just the messenger, not the jury. That's for you to decide.
- Matt
matt@x-entertainment.com
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