Although model aeroplanes don’t teach us much about biology, we get occasional insights and tenuous connections. The Renwal Visible Man is obviously not a model aeroplane, but it’s plastic, and it’s a model kit. It was intended to be educational – about human (internal) anatomy. But it actually teaches us more about unrealistic visions, frustration and disappointment. Which may be more useful.
When I was younger I was properly into life sciences and all that – an interest which lasted up until A level biology. (The combination of pickled rats and advanced statistics put me off.) But at a more impressionable age I found out about the Visible Man and really, really wanted one.
It/he is a 1:5 scale anatomical model of a male human, originally released in 1959. A crap example on eBay goes for about £85, which is one reason there aren’t accompanying pictures of all his bits and pieces. Also, these days I find it vaguely creepy – didn’t bother me in my youth, perhaps because childhood experiences included the offal shop on Edmonton Green. Something you don’t see so much of, these days. But nowadays, I just don’t fancy having a Visible Man and his pink plastic organs around the place.
‘incredible!’ – yeah, right…
Eventually I did get my very own Visible Man and he was a major disappointment. Obviously, being a 1959 US kit, there was nothing Visibly Manly on the outside at waist level. Or perhaps this was a farsighted move towards gender fluidity, which fortunately my parents didn’t notice.
But that’s not what I was disappointed about – the box appeared full of assorted bones and organs, so the content was fine. And the box art is completely upfront about his anatomical shortcomings.
The Visible Man turned out to be a lot of effort with unimpressive results. There were numerous fiddly bits of wire to articulate the skeleton, which I wasn’t even that bothered about articulating. It was also a real challenge to paint all the bits and pieces, even assuming the colours they told you were realistic. I’ve seen a few organs on the TV (and in those old-fashioned butchers), and they’re generally pink. The organs, that is, although the butchers tended to be quite pink as well.
And once again, we end up with a small and unimpressive model, compared to the potential suggested by the box art. As you can see, it’s a lovingly airbrushed anatomical picture, with subtle shading and crisply delineated blood vessels. A vision of some sort of conceptual visible man.
But when the actual model was complete, all those organs looked like blobby pieces of painted plastic which vaguely fitted together. Which is essentially what they were – it would never look anything like the serious-looking chap on the box. After decades of this deception, the reboxed Skilcraft version was more realistic about the end result.
The Visible Man was definitely not “incredible!”, apart from some of his internals being literally unbelievable.
Blood and guts in high school
The most frustrating stage was near the end of the creative process. There are lots of small blood vessels, moulded in relief inside the very glossy outer transparent shell. This meant I had to try and paint them freehand using my really crappy set of enamel paints in glass vials – blue for veins, red for arteries. Which is not quite anatomically correct anyway. Higher quality paints would not necessarily made the job any easier but a more appealing shade of blue would have looked better. Any mistakes were very obvious – indelible smears of paint on clear plastic.
I’m guessing the blood vessels were like that because it was easier for the mould maker to scribe them into the mould. But painting accurately onto a very shiny raised wavy line was beyond my skills at the time.
The final result was what I might now describe as a right fucking mess. On some of the plastic organs there were tiny veins and arteries, which were equally challenging.
Then at secondary school there was a life size torso model in the biology lab, which came apart and looked really cool. And sort of realistic, like it had been created and finished by professionals. The Visible Man looked totally pathetic in comparison.
Despite any oversold visions of combat, at least a model aeroplane kit will give you a small model of an aeroplane at the end of the process. So after this foray into human anatomy, it was back to model aeroplanes.
Gin-based risk mitigation strategies
These days, if I was foolish enough to even think about such a project, I’d be a bit better prepared. Some sort of overcomplicated masking technique for the blood vessels, and/or a stiff G&T to steady my painting hand. Or perhaps I’d start the project with some risk management, like what I used to get paid to do.
One potential mitigation strategy. Leave all the parts safely in their plastic bags. List the Visible Man on eBay ASAP, have the G&T anyway but watch Netflix, rather than fiddle around with this creepy and annoying kit. Have another G&T. Wait patiently for the £80 or so to arrive. Then spend the proceeds (minus eBay fees) on a few months’ worth of Netflix, a bottle of fancy gin and an assortment of Fever Tree tonic water.
Or because I never want to see a Renwal Visible Man again, there’s an even more elegant solution. Cut out the buying, selling, fees and waiting, and go straight to the Netflix and gin stage (Netflix optional). It’s a win-win.
