The scars on my forehead from banging against my desk in frustration over that feminized heap of reimagined space garbage called "Battlestar Galactica" had only barely finished healing before THIS new horror comes smacking me in the face, 53 years after the Robinsons first took off for Alpha Centauri and 20 years past that bombs-away movie remake (to "Alpha Prime," which doomed it from the gate), a nightmarish cauldron of soap-opera-in-space issues. Not only has that not improved here - John & Maureen being an "estranged" (ah jeez!) couple - but in addition to an almost frantic stuffing into the mix of a slew of uninteresting, unnecessary characters, Major Don West has been watered down into a junior-grade Han Solo & good old Dr. Zachary Smith, whose original articulate coiled menace sadly became mogrified into screeching cowardice, now has got gender-switched into a GIRL - which, try as she might, MIss Posey's emasculated rendition doesn't begin to effectively represent Smithian legend; one need only see the original first 4 episodes to see this naked difference. This latest twisting of a classic - like repainting Mona Lisa as a raggedy-toothed streetwalker - despite its creators' yammerings to the contrary, is faitfhful to its source material in characters' names (and the kids' age range) only; all other plot bets are (way) off, like the stupefying 3-part "Hobbit" movies, into which was butt-pounded so much made-up crap that I felt literally "lost" watching what little of it I could tolerate, with there being barely anything from that book with which I had long been familiar to appreciate. Why these Dollyweird types must disturb the ancients with their ghastly tomb-robbing remakes I don't know, but here they could have easily instead just left out the Lost In Space show title/character names & had an entirely new space opera better suited to modern tastes/references that even devotees of TOS classics might find interest in, rather than seeing (yet again) their beloved shows so wantonly mistreated. My only hope is that, since these "streaming" outfits have a likewise bewildering, ADD tendency to whack their shows Quite Soon Now (an old Smithian observation) regardless of popularity, this spaceborne stew of disgruntled, disjointed characters & purposes will itself not live long. My supply of Kenalog cream for these damn scars ain't gonna hold out forever.