Tech Time Warp of the Week: RCA's Wireless Wizard, 1961

This is an epic six-minute commercial for the "greatest advance in television since color television itself": RCA's 1961 wireless remote control.

You think you're watching the opening credits of some classic Hollywood movie.

As a trumpets play, a sparkling star rotates in the mist, reminiscent of those spinning globes that appear in the first few moments of classic flicks from Universal or RKO. But then you realize there's a little too much mist, and when the narration kicks in, the New York accent is just a little too thick. This isn't Show Boat or Phantom of the Opera. It's a classic of different kind.

It's an epic six-minute commercial for the "greatest advance in television since color television itself": RCA's 1961 wireless remote control.

RCA, then a giant of the radio and television world, called it the "Wireless Wizard." They also called it "amazing." As you can see in RCA's classic ad (see above), this brick-sized, golden beauty offered a whopping seven controls that let you so carefully drive your "luxurious" Victor color TV. You could turn it on and off. You could change the tint, color, brightness, and volume. You could even change the channel.

The Wireless Wizard lived in a "handy storage space" built in to RCA's wood-paneled TV. But the idea was to grab it and take it with you to the chair across the room. That way, you could control your TV without standing up.

Why is the Victor TV sitting beside what appears to be a genie bottle? We have no idea. But we can say that the Wireless Wizard wasn't magic. It's hard science. The Victor was equipped with an amplifier that communicated with the Wizard -- most likely via audio waves.

To get started, you'd pop open the hidden push button panel on the front of the TV, turn on the amplifier, and -- presto! -- "You're ready for hours of pure pleasure."

Can't find the panel? No worries. There's a model wearing a yellow Capri jumpsuit, a pearl bracelet, and a wonderfully short 1960s 'do, and she proceeds to show you exactly where it is.

She even shows you how to use the remote! She picks it up, walks to a strategically placed chair, sits down with the Wireless Wizard on her lap, and begins to enjoy the "pure pleasure." This seems to involve a program where women dance something akin to the can-can while wearing frilly skirts, bow ties, and straw hats.

>Here is the ultimate in television -- a set where the pride of ownership is truly only second to the pleasure.

"Yes, here is the ultimate in television," the narration says, "a supreme achievement in television engineering -- a color set that puts RCA Victor years ahead in dependable performance, armchair convenience, luxurious styling -- a set where the pride of ownership is truly second only to the pleasure."

We completely agree. That said, it's worth pointing out that the Wireless Wizard wasn't the first wireless remote control. That distinction belongs to the Flash-matic, the brainchild of Zenith's Eugene Polley, often dubbed the patron saint of couch potatoes.

Polly's remote worked by flashing a light beam at photocells in the TV to adjust the volume or change the channel, which is similar to the way remotes operate today. Then, a year later, Zenith gave us the Space Command, which sent sound pulses outside the human hearing range.

But there's one thing the Wireless Wizard had that these earlier remotes didn't: a commercial this good.