The Twilight Zone, Season Five: 3 Classics and 3 Wasted Trips

And so we arrive at last to the fifth and final season of The Twilight Zone. As a refresher: I started these season reviews because, familiar as I’ve been with this landmark series, I’ve never owned it or experienced all the episodes in order in their entirety.

Now I have, and it’s clear from this last batch of 36 episodes that the premise had started to run out of steam. Time travelers, dystopian futures, machines replacing humans, ill-fated voyages to outer space – viewers have seen them all before, and in most cases better than these variations.

While I still enjoyed more than half of these episodes, it’s never been easier to select a top three because there were not as many close runners-up.

The Three Best

Nightmare at 20,000 Feet
One of two no-brainer contenders for the best episode of season five, and one that would likely rank in the top five from the entire series. William Shatner plays a man still recovering from a nervous breakdown, who boards an airplane and is terrified when he sees a creature perched on the wing, about to destroy an engine.

In his introduction Rod Serling warns that this story will take us into the darkest corner of the Twilight Zone, and that was not hyperbole. Every element – Shatner’s frenzied performance, Richard Donner’s direction, and the perfect final scene – all exemplify the series at its very best. And if that’s not enough, “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet” contains what is indisputably the best jump scare of any TZ episode.

Living Doll
There have been eight films in the Child’s Play series about a killer doll named Chucky, but none of them were as exciting as this TZ installment in which a malevolent doll called Talky Tina plots against a little girl’s brutish stepfather, played by Telly Savales. 

June Foray, who voiced Rocky the Flying Squirrel among many other beloved characters, indulges her dark side, uttering chilling lines in the sweetest tones. Can a small plastic doll murder a full-grown American male? You’d be surprised.

Number 12 Looks Just Like You
Whether this is the best episode of the season or merely the most prescient is a matter of conjecture. But it’s amazing how a 60-year-old TV show could so accurately foresee challenges now being confronted by the US in 2026.

The original inspiration for its story was not a glimpse into the future but remembrance of the past, specifically Germany under Hitler, the demand for conformity within a totalitarian state, and the Nazi's pursuit of a so-called superior Aryan race.

In the futuristic society depicted in this episode, a young woman named Marilyn has reached the age of ‘transformation,’ where she may choose a new face and body from a catalog of attractive options. It’s presented as a voluntary procedure, but Marilyn soon discovers it is mandatory after she objects to it.

There’s so much to unpack in this one – our culture’s worship of youth, how some pursue physical perfection through plastic surgery – but it also speaks to one party’s current flirtation with socialism, with its promise of classless equality. It’s good for you, we are told, no matter how many who lived under such societies protest. Trust us, they say – we know what’s best, and that freedom of choice you’ll have to sacrifice for the good of the state – you won’t even miss it after a while. Scary stuff – and it’s inching its way into the mainstream.

If I had a fourth ‘best’ pick it would be “I am the Night – Color Me Black,” in which the sun fails to rise over a small town on the morning of a public execution. It shares many of the over-written, heavy-handed qualities found in Rod Serling’s least memorable scripts but this time it still works, thanks to strong performances from Michael Constantine, Ivan Dixon, and George Lindsay.

Some fans rank “The Masks” among the series’ classics – for me it was just okay, as was “Spur of the Moment,” though it opens with one of the season’s most unsettling scenes. There were also mediocre episodes elevated by a strong lead performance – Mickey Rooney in “The Last Night of a Jockey,” Sir Cedric Hardwicke in “Uncle Simon,” John Dehner in “Mr. Gerrity and the Graves.”

Finally, “Black Leather Jackets” is silly but it has Shelley Fabares, so it automatically gets a pass.


The Three Worst

Sounds and Silences
It hurts my heart to single out anything starring John McGiver, one of my favorite character actors, on a “worst” list. But there’s no defending this headache-inducing episode about a CEO obsessed with noise, which grates on the nerves of his employees, not to mention those of us watching from home.

From Agnes with Love
Computers taking on human qualities and doing more harm than good? Maybe that wasn’t the cliché in 1964 than it is now, but here once again we get proof that The Twilight Zone was not a series that excelled at comedy. Wally Cox stars as a programmer hoping Agnes, a super-computer, can help him win his dream girl, unaware that Agnes has already fallen for him.

The Encounter
Simply one of the most repugnant half-hours of television I’ve ever watched, and one that some sources claim was banned from syndication for more than 50 years. If anyone wondered what they were missing all that time, the answer is nothing.

The Twilight Zone, Season Four: 3 Classics and 3 Wasted Trips

It has taken me a while to get back to season reviews of The Twilight Zone, mostly because I was reluctant to start season four knowing that this is when the series switched from 30-minute to 60-minute shows. It is not a coincidence that this is its least heralded season, so even with just 18 episodes I anticipated a difficult slog.

Thankfully, the journey was not as arduous as I expected. Yes, the story padding is sometimes evident, and some of the show’s themes are becoming repetitive (longing for the past, deals with the devil, etc.). But overall, this was a season that, like its predecessors, delivered more good than bad stories, and even some of the lesser entries were redeemed by one or more memorable performances.

Just as a refresher: the reason I’m doing these reviews is that, familiar as I’ve been with The Twilight Zone, I’ve never owned the series or experienced all the episodes in order in their entirety. Since the hour-long shows have been rarely syndicated, all these episodes were new to me.

The Three Best

The Thirty Fathom Grave
This was my clear favorite. A US Navy destroyer in the South Pacific detects the remains of a World War II-era submarine at the bottom of the ocean. Which wouldn’t be all that strange were it not for the sound of hammering against metal coming from within. What could be the cause? And could it be connected to one of the ship’s officers having a sudden nervous breakdown?

“The Thirty Fathom Grave” plays like one of those classic little ‘B’ movies you might stumble across on TCM late at night, that pulls you in to see where it goes.

Valley of the Shadow
The Twilight Zone was of two minds when it came to quiet little towns. In the episodes written by Rod Serling they provide sanctuary from a cruel modern world. Other writers like Charles Beaumont had more in common with David Lynch, viewing these idyllic hamlets as places that may hide the most strange and sinister of secrets.

Peaceful Valley, visited by reporter Philip Redfield (Ed Nelson), belongs to the latter camp. 

Stopping to ask for directions, Philip sees a little girl point a device at his dog, causing the dog to disappear. He’s eventually found again, but Philip’s reporter instinct kicks in. He starts investigating and will soon discover that leaving town is not an option no matter how hard he tries.


Jess-Belle
It was a toss-up for the final ‘Best’ spot between this and the atmospheric “Passage on the Lady Anne.” I’m giving this one the edge because it plays like a tragic tale from American folklore passed down through generations. It even comes with its own song:

Fair was Elly Glover
Dark was Jess-Belle
Both, they loved the same man
And both they loved him well

Two Twilight Zone vets, Anne Francis and James Best, play Jess-Belle and Billy-Ben. She loves him, and he kind of likes her but then falls for the beautiful Elly (Laura Devon). A jealous Jess-Belle asks the local witch to make Billy-Ben love her again, but that spell comes with a shocking side effect.

I was not a fan of writer Earl Hamner Jr.’s previous TZ scripts, making this effort an even more pleasant surprise.

Among the honorable mentions: “Printer’s Devil,” with the always-reliable Burgess Meredith helping an editor save his small-town newspaper at the cost of his soul and “He’s Alive,” with Dennis Hopper giving a chilling performance as a neo-nazi leader getting lessons from Hitler and how to spread hatred. 

World War II-vet Rod Serling was often at his most eloquent when condemning the kind of bigotry he once fought against. His closing narration still packs a punch:

“Where will he go next, this phantom of another time, this resurrected ghost of a previous nightmare? Any place, every place, where there’s hate, where’s there’s prejudice, where there’s bigotry, he’s alive. Remember that when he comes to your town. Remember it when you hear his voice speaking out through others. Remember it when you hear a name called, a minority attacked, any blind, unreasoning assault on a people or any human being. He’s alive because through these things we keep him alive.”

And I can’t omit “Of Late I Think of Cliffordsville,” despite it featuring Albert Salmi, an actor I take an instant dislike to every time I see him. It’s worth watching just for Julie Newmar as the devil tempting him into an unholy bargain. Outside of Catwoman it’s the best performance I’ve ever seen from her.

The Three Worst

The Incredible World of Horace Ford
Here it is – the single most annoying performance in the distinguished history of this iconic series. Pat Hingle plays toy designer Horace Ford, an exasperating man-child who never got over being 12 years old – so that’s still how he acts. Ten minutes in and I wanted to jump through the screen and give him a wedgie. Most shocking is that this awful episode was written by Reginald Rose, who wrote 12 Angry Men and created The Defenders.

I Dream of Genie
Another reminder of how poorly TZ handled comedy. George Hanley (Howard Morris) is granted one wish by a genie and doesn’t know what to do with it.

No Time Like the Past
We’ve seen this story before – man becomes disillusioned with the present day and yearns to escape into the past. “A Stop at Willoughby” set the standard for such storylines, which were also used in “Walking Distance” and others. This time it just doesn’t work. Paul Driscoll (Dana Andrews) is more ambitious than his fellow time-travelers – he first attempts to kill Adolf Hitler and warn the Japanese about an incoming atom bomb. When that fails, he settles for a quiet life in Homeville, Indiana, circa 1881. But once again his hopes for a better life are dashed.

The Twilight Zone, Season Three: 3 Classics and 3 Wasted Trips

It was apparent early on that season three of the The Twilight Zone would present the toughest challenge when it came to selecting just three classic episodes. In quality, cleverness, memorable performances and intriguing stories, the series served up so many memorable outings among 37 episodes that choosing the best of the best was a daunting prospect.

Why do it? As I explained back in March I’ve been watching The Twilight Zone for as long as I’ve been watching television. But I’ve never owned the series or experienced all the episodes in order in their entirety. That’s what I’m doing now. And it’s been an interesting experience – especially in how I’ve been discovering quite a few episodes that I’ve never seen before.

I’m sure my selections won’t be the same as yours, but we’re likely to agree on at least two of the three worst.


The Three Best

To Serve Man

An obvious choice, but also an inevitable one. It’s most easily recalled now for one three-word line at the climax, but everything leading up to that epiphany is just as compelling. A story about being wary of strangers bearing gifts goes back to the Trojan War, but the payoff here is so delightfully droll that it still makes me laugh. In 1997, TV Guide ranked “To Serve Man” at #11 on its list of the 100 Greatest Episodes.

The Grave

This is by far the best of the western Twilight Zone stories, with a cast as impressive as any feature film western – Lee Marvin, Strother Martin, James Best, and Lee Van Cleef. The script was by Montgomery Pittman, who was in familiar territory having written for episodes of several 1950s westerns, including Cheyenne and Sugarfoot.

Marvin plays Conny Miller, a hired gun who arrives in a town after a man named Pinto Sykes was shot and killed. Sykes vowed that if Miller visits his grave, Sykes will rise and grab him. The rest of the episode has town folk, including Sykes’ sister, daring him to go to the cemetery. Of course he does it, or it wouldn’t be much of an episode. How does it end? See for yourself.

The Dummy

As with the first two seasons I reviewed, the scariest episode of the bunch makes the list. Cliff Robertson plays a ventriloquist driven to drink because of his belief that his dummy is alive and determined to take control of the act. The inherently creepy quality of that scenario is heightened by fevered direction and cinematography – lots of tilted camera angles and subjective cuts that force viewers to share in Robertson’s paranoia. It’s one of the series’ most compelling examples of psychological horror.

I stand by these selections even as I regret how many more shows could have make the list, beginning with “Two,” the season opener, with Charles Bronson and Elizabeth Montgomery trying to survive the aftermath of a devastating war. “The Arrival” opens with a plane landing at an airport with no one aboard. “Five Characters in Search of an Exit” is TZ at its most existential.

There were also several episodes that slightly missed the mark but were saved by outstanding performances in lead roles. “The Mirror” wasn’t that compelling but buried within a barely-there story are some wonderful dialogue flourishes in Rod Serling’s script, and an unlikely but effective performance by Peter Falk, essentially playing Fidel Castro.

The twist ending in “Four O’Clock” may not be much of a surprise, but Theodore Bikel is fantastic as a vicious man determined to punish all those he deems evil. 

And Jack Klugman (always great in this series), shines as a pool player who dreams about challenging the best in the game, even if that champion has passed away (“A Game of Pool”).

Finally, “A Changing of the Guard” is a wonderful and touching series finale about an aging English professor (Donald Pleasance) who questions whether decades of teaching poetry had any impact on his students. It’s Goodbye Mr. Chips meets It’s a Wonderful Life.

The Three Worst

The Hunt

I support the message of this episode – that Heaven wouldn’t be Heaven if dogs were not allowed to enter – but this story of a mountain man and his hound wandering through a rural afterlife is slow and boring.

The Gift

Arguably Rod Serling’s worst Twilight Zone script.

Cavender is Coming

Yet another example of how comedy rarely (if ever) worked on this series. Carol Burnett plays a clumsy chorus girl assigned to an equally inept guardian angel (Jesse White).

The Twilight Zone, Season Two: 3 Classics and 3 Wasted Trips

I've been watching The Twilight Zone for as long as I’ve been watching television. But as I wrote here back in March, I’ve never owned the series or experienced all the episodes in order in their entirety. But as I wrote here back in March, I’ve never owned the series or experienced all the episodes in order in their entirety.

That’s what I’m doing now. And it’s been an interesting experience – especially in how I’ve been discovering quite a few episodes that I’ve never seen before.

After finishing the first season I wrote a piece here listing my three favorite episodes, and three I could have done without. I have now finished season two, so let’s do it again.

The Three Best

The Howling Man

A traveler seeks shelter in a remote European monastery. The monks are reluctant to let him in, and he soon discovers why: in one of its cells, they claim to be holding the Devil prisoner. His agonized howls echo through the stone walls at regular intervals. Curious, the visitor confronts the figure in the cell, who appears to be a normal man professing his innocence. Is he right? And will the traveler let him out?

This is one of the classic TZ episodes even casual fans recall, made more memorable by the gravitas brought to the role of Brother Jerome by the grandiose John Carradine.

Twenty-Two

The surreal world of dreams, and whether they have any impact on our reality, was a theme explored in more than one Twilight Zone episode. “Shadow Play,” also from this season, starred Dennis Weaver as a man trapped in the same recurring dream of being in prison awaiting execution. It’s good, but I found “Twenty-Two” to be even more unsettling.

The set-up is similar: a nightclub dancer is in a hospital seeking answers to why she keeps having the same terrifying dream. In it, she awakens from her hospital bed, takes an elevator down to the basement level, and walks down a darkened hallway until she reaches room 22 – the morgue. A severe-looking nurse swings the door open and says, “Room for one more, honey."

I really liked how this one ended as it suggests that some nightmares might be good for you. Arlene Martel, usually quite the exotic looker but not here, plays the nurse – it’s a small role but one not easily forgotten.

The Obsolete Man

In a Kafkaesque courtroom, sometime in humanity’s possible future, a man is judged to be obsolete by the all-powerful State. He is a librarian in a time when books have been banned, and he believes in God despite the State insisting there is no such entity. He is sentenced to die and is allowed to choose the method of his execution – and that’s where the condemned man sees an opportunity for reprisal.

Much of “The Obsolete Man” is a two-character piece, with Burgess Meredith as the humble librarian, and Fritz Weaver as the arrogant Chancellor, representing the State. I’m not sure if the climax owes more to Tennessee Williams or Night of the Living Dead – but either way it’s by far the most unsettling scene of the entire season.

The allusions of fascism are hardly subtle – at one point the Chancellor even says men like Hitler and Stalin had the right idea but didn’t go far enough. But that lack of subtlety is not a flaw, especially since the lesson in this episode is one that apparently needs to be taught to every generation, especially our current dumbed-down one that needs a reminder that fascism once meant something concrete, and was not merely a slur to hurl at people you don’t like.

For a more in-depth examination of this episode, I am happy to refer you to Mitchell Hadley’s analysis, from his forthcoming book Darkness in Primetime.

Which episodes almost made the list? Quite a few, starting with “Eye of the Beholder” with Donna Douglas, which may be the season’s most famous offering.

“The Invaders” with Agnes Moorehead was an ambitious experiment – telling the story of an alien invasion without any dialogue. I also liked “Nick of Time,” with William Shatner nearly throwing away a promising future after becoming obsessed with a fortune telling machine in a small-town diner.

Time travel stories were big this season, with people from the present being transported to the past (“Back There”) and people from the past being transported to the present (“A Hundred Yards Over the Rim”). My favorite was “The Odyssey of Flight 33,” through its ambiguous ending may frustrate some viewers.


The Three Worst

The Mind and the Matter

There’s a reason why “the comedy stylings of Rod Serling” is not a phrase in common parlance. The series’ lighter-side episodes rarely worked, and this is one of the worst. Comedian Shelley Berman plays a man fed up with his crowded city, who uses the power of his mind to make everyone disappear – and then he has conversations with himself about how he still feels miserable.

A Thing About Machines

Bartlett Finchley (Richard Haydn) is a fussy luddite who hates machines, so much so that they start to hate him back. In one particularly ridiculous moment, he is chased around his home by his electric razor.

Mr. Dingle the Strong

Burgess Meredith starred in one of the season’s best episodes but also plays the title role in one of its most forgettable. Dingle is given super-strength by perhaps the most ridiculous aliens ever seen on the series, and then they take it away. 

That’s pretty much it. Don Rickles is in it, which helps, but not enough.

While I begin exploring season 3, what were your favorite season 2 shows?  

The Twilight Zone, Season One - 3 Classics and 3 Wasted Trips

I can't remember the first time I watched The Twilight Zone – though it was probably at least 50 years ago. I’ve checked in and out of the series over the course of many years but never added this crown jewel of TV classics to my collection – until recently. 

For the first time over the past few weeks, I’ve been enjoying the series uncut, in original running order and in the stunning visual clarity of Blu-ray. Watching season one I remembered several episodes but was surprised to discover there were more than a few I had never experienced before. 

Before I begin season two, I thought it would be interesting (to me, at least) to celebrate the three best episodes, and select three that didn’t quite make it. Here we go:

The Three Best

A Stop at Willoughby

I have always believed that classic television shows can serve a higher purpose beyond the entertainment derived from them. Like any work of art worthy of our respect, they have something to teach us as well.

During its five seasons, The Twilight Zone presented dozens of issue-oriented stories, including some effective but occasionally heavy-handed allegories about war, racism and intolerance. For me it was the subtler stories that struck a deeper chord, none more so than “A Stop at Willoughby.”   

Fade up on Gart Williams (James Daly), a media buyer in New York, sitting with other executives in a boardroom, anxiously tapping a pencil. He has just lost a major account, much to the chagrin of his oppressive boss.

Gart leaves the office on the verge of a nervous breakdown that’s been building for a long time. Headed home he falls asleep on the train, but when he wakes he finds himself on a 19th century rail coach. The snowy November evening has been replaced by bright summer sunshine, as the train stops at an idyllic small town called Willoughby, circa 1888. Gart wakes up and dismisses the episode as a dream.

At home his pressures do not subside. “I’m tired, Janie. Tired and sick,” he says to his unsympathetic wife, who coldly ponders how she could have married such an over-sensitive loser. 

Back at work, the stress resumes unabated – angry clients, constantly ringing phones. The next evening, he once again hears the conductor call “Next stop, Willoughby.” This time, he gets off the train. But this being The Twilight Zone, there’s an unexpected zing at the end. 

The episode explored a favorite theme of writer Rod Serling – the soul-crushing oppression of corporate America, which he first examined in the brilliant “Patterns,” and then later on Night Gallery in “They’re Tearing Down Tim Riley’s Bar.” In 25 minutes, “A Stop at Willoughby” paints a complete and perfectly rendered portrait of a man who spent the better part of his life doing something for which he had neither affinity nor desire. He sublimated his true self to pursue a lifestyle that was never important to him, to achieve prosperity that brought no satisfaction. Now he’s at the end of his tether and willing to grasp at any lifeline, no matter how fantastic. 

I still wonder if some viewers feeling the same subjugation were inspired to break out of their fate and pursue something more satisfying. I hope so. 

The Hitch-Hiker

“A Stop at Willoughby” was for me the most impactful episode of season one, but “The Hitch-Hiker” was by far the most unsettling. Rod Serling’s script ramps up the terror slowly but gradually, to the point where you know what’s coming but it’s still scary when it happens.

Inger Stevens plays a woman on a cross-country drive. Along the way she sees a middle-aged man in slovenly clothes trying to thumb a ride. She passes him by as any young woman traveling alone should but is surprised when later that day, after driving many miles, she sees him again, still standing by the side of the road, hoping she’ll stop this time. And then it happens again. And again. 

The hitcher is played by Leonard Strong, a veteran character actor whom you’ve seen in dozens of shows. There’s really nothing frightening about him – but here, without even trying, he’s scarier than Freddy Krueger. If you don’t believe any story from a 65-year-old TV show could have you pulling a blanket up over your head, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Judgment Night

This one really snuck up on me, because I don’t think it ranks highly among fans. It wasn’t doing much for me either for the first half or so, but then its rather confusing scenario is crystallized in a way that changes everything we thought we just watched. 

Nehemiah Persoff plays a man on a fog-bound ship in the Atlantic Ocean headed for New York in 1942. He has no memory of how he got there and does not recognize any of the other passengers. But he is certain that something terrible is going to happen to the ship at 1:15am. 

As with “The Hitch-Hiker” there is a sense of dread that hangs over the entire episode. When the reality of the situation is revealed, viewers like me realized that we should have paid more attention to the episode’s title, as the fate of Persoff’s character proves to be far worse than a case of amnesia.

This could have easily been a top five list. If I were to add a fourth choice it would be “The After Hours” which I recall watching as a kid and it scaring the heck out of me. It’s still pretty unsettling at times, as Anne Francis wanders through an empty department store where the mannequins seem just a little too real. 

What - no “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street”? some may be asking. I know that episode is in most TZ aficionados’ lists of classics. Here’s what always bothered me about that show: It opens with some weird stuff happening to lights and car motors, and the neighbors all get together to try and figure out what’s going on. They’re calmly trying to assess the situation together, but turn into a frenzied, paranoid mob because one kid says he thinks aliens are to blame because of what he read in a comic book. I know the point Serling was trying to make, but I wish he could have gotten there in a more credible way.

Other contenders: “Time Enough at Last” with Burgess Meredith as a meek bookworm who survives a nuclear holocaust, and “Escape Clause,” with David Wayne making a deal with the devil for immortality, are both good episodes but were memorable mostly for their climactic twists. 

I also quite liked “Mirror Image” with Vera Miles, though its final scene either makes the episode for some, or ruins it for others. 

And while there’s not much original in “A Passage for Trumpet,” about a down-and-out musician given a second chance at life after a suicide attempt, it’s beautifully written and shot and features a poignant performance from Jack Klugman. 

The 3 Worst

What You Need

Rod Serling loved his humble eccentrics – the simple souls who found joy and meaning in their lives in a harsh and cruel world. They were the central characters in first-season episodes like “Mr. Bevis” and “One for the Angels,” and here again, with Ernest Truex as a peddler who somehow always has exactly what his customers need. That gift is noticed by a vicious bully who tries to take advantage of the situation and lives (though not long) to regret it. 

The Sixteen-Millimeter Shrine

This was basically a small screen take on the film Sunset Boulevard with a supernatural twist at the end. Ida Lupino plays a former movie star who sits alone in her lavish mansion and spends her days watching the old movies in which she appeared. According to the website The Twilight Zone Vortex, Rod Serling held no love for this episode and considered it an all-around failure. I agree. 

The Fever

Having lived in and around Las Vegas for decades I know that gambling addiction is no joke and is a subject that could have been explored in a TZ story. But this wasn’t it. The scene in which the fine actor Everett Sloan is chased by a slot machine until he falls to his death from a hotel balcony was just silly – an adjective that should never be associated with this series. 

Which first season shows were your favorites? 

Reflections on The Twilight Zone's "A Nice Place to Visit"

 

During this seemingly endless pandemic I’ve taken to watching the sermons of Bishop Robert Barron on YouTube.

 

A few weeks ago, he spoke at length about a painting in Paris’s Musee d’Orsay by Thomas Couture called “The Romans of the Decadence.” It shows a large crowd of people engaged in all sorts of carousing and debauchery; but at the center of the canvas is a woman who looks directly out toward the viewer, and seems utterly bored with the revelry that surrounds her.

 

The message, according to Bishop Barron, is that all of the pleasures this world can offer, wonderful and wicked, legal and illegal, will eventually not be enough to satisfy us. We were made for something greater.

 

To me, that sermon was a reminder of a classic TV episode that communicated  a similar message. “A Nice Place To Visit” aired on April 15, 1960, near the end of the first season of The Twilight Zone. 

 

 

As the show opens we meet Rocky Valentine (Larry Blyden), a career criminal in the midst of robbing a safe in a pawnshop. He is shot and killed by the police while trying to escape. Seemingly moments later, he wakes up and meets Mr. Pip (Sebastian Cabot), a debonair man in a white suit, who introduces himself as Rocky’s “guide.”

 

 

 

A clearly confused and suspicious Rocky is given a luxurious apartment, a new fancy wardrobe, and piles of cash. Taking stock of “the joint, the clothes, the booze,” he figures he must be in heaven, and Pip is his guardian angel. “Anything I want,” he says, gleefully rubbing his hands together, and it’s off to the casino. As beautiful women cheer him on, he tries roulette and the slot machines and he can’t lose. 

 

 

Still, Rocky is curious as to why he was allowed into Heaven: "I must have done something good that made up for all the other stuff.” Pip takes him to the Hall of Records to review his file, which provides no answers: Rocky has been a rat since he killed a dog at the age of six. But if God is fine with the decision, he figures he’s happy to keep living the good life. 

 

 

But one month later, Rocky finds that everything he used to enjoy now brings no pleasure at all. Even the prospect of robbing a bank fails to interest him, as he already knows he’ll get away with it.

 

“I don’t think I belong here,” he finally tells Pip. “If I have to stay here another day I’m going to go nuts! I don’t belong in heaven. I want to go to the other place.”

 

“Heaven?” Pip replies. “Whatever gave you the idea you were in Heaven, Mr. Valentine? This *is* the other place!”

 

And that cues up Rod Serling’s close: “A scared and angry little man who never got a break. Now he has everything he’s ever wanted. And he’s going to have to live with it for eternity…in the Twilight Zone.”

 

Did you guess the outcome when you first saw this episode? Whether you did or not, it’s the message that I find most interesting. And while The Twilight Zone routinely delved into provocative questions related to ethics and philosophy, it was not the only series from the Comfort TV era to contemplate the same set of circumstances described by Bishop Barron and painted by Couture. I can think of two other series, both among the era’s most popular situation comedies, which also explored this scenario.

 

Guesses? If not, I will humbly recommend my forthcoming book, out next month, which I’ll talk about more in my next blog.

 

As I write this, the Emmy Awards are being presented on ABC. I’m not watching – I haven’t watched in more than a decade. See previous Emmy-related blog entries for those reasons. But I do know a little about some of the shows deemed worthy of Emmy recognition. And I wonder what messages those shows are sending, or if that’s even a relevant question.

 

One might think that some lessons would remain pertinent in any era of entertainment. But if we could count on that being the case 50 years ago, or even 20 years ago, I’m not sure we can still count on it now. To illustrate I give you The Good Place, a recent Emmy-winning series that closed out its first season with a twist similar to the one in “A Nice Place to Visit.” But on that series, the inversion of good and bad destinations was not the end but a starting point, from which the show asked questions that never would have occurred to previous generations, such as whether “the good place” was really good for everyone. What times we live in.

 

Here is a look at the Couture painting:

 

 

The Twilight Zone: Wisdom From Willoughby

 

I have always believed that classic television shows can serve a higher purpose beyond the entertainment derived from them. Like any work of art worthy of our respect, they have something to teach us as well.

During its five seasons, The Twilight Zone presented dozens of issue-oriented stories, including some effective but occasionally heavy-handed allegories about war, racism and intolerance. For me it was the subtler stories that struck a deeper chord, none more so than “A Stop at Willoughby.”   

Fade up on Gart Williams, a media buyer in New York, sitting amongst other executives in a boardroom, anxiously tapping a pencil. He has just lost a major account, much to the chagrin of his oppressive boss: “This is a push-push-push business, Williams, all the way, all the time.” 

 

Gart leaves the office on the verge of a nervous breakdown that’s been building for a long time. Headed home he falls asleep on the train, but when he wakes he finds himself on a 19^th century rail coach. The snowy November evening has been replaced by bright summer sunshine, as the train stops at an idyllic small town called Willoughby, circa 1888. Gart wakes up, and dismisses the episode as a dream.

At home his pressures do not subside. “I’m tired, Janie. Tired and sick,” he says to his unsympathetic wife, who coldly ponders how she could have married such an over-sensitive loser. 

Back at work, the stress resumes unabated – angry clients, constantly ringing phones. The next night, he once again hears the conductor call “Next stop, Willoughby.” This time, he gets off the train.

This being The Twilight Zone, there’s an unexpected zing at the end. I’ll avoid spoilers for anyone who somehow missed this episode during the last 54 years.

In 25 minutes, “A Stop at Willoughby” paints a complete and perfectly rendered portrait of a man who spent the better part of his life doing something for which he had neither affinity nor desire. He sublimated his true self to pursue a lifestyle that was never important to him, to achieve prosperity that brought no satisfaction. Now he’s at the end of his tether and willing to grasp at any lifeline, no matter how fantastic. 

I can’t prove it but I am certain that when this show first aired, someone living Gart Williams’ life for real decided to hop off their self-destructive carousel, and to start spending more time doing what he or she loved. Hopefully, after a half-century of syndication and videocassette and DVD releases, many others have been similarly inspired to recalibrate their priorities.

The demands on Gart Williams’ time were stifling to him – and this was in 1960! How much faster is life moving now? How many other electronic devices are commanding our attention, not only in the office but at home and in the car and even when we’re supposed to be with our friends and families?

If anything, the lesson of “A Stop at Willoughby” is needed now more than ever: We are more than our jobs, or at least we are supposed to be. And if the world insists on moving at a certain speed, we don’t always have to keep up with it. It’s a lesson we are never too young or too old to learn.

Unfortunately, many of us have to make compromises, if not for ourselves than for those we love. But we don’t have to be compromised. We can find the proper balance between work and family, one that results in peace of mind and a soul-deep contentment.

This blog is one of my stops at Willoughby. It’s something that will never pay my mortgage, but I do it because it makes me happy.

Find your Willoughby. Even if you can’t live there, make sure you visit often enough to take a piece of it with you wherever you go.

(Dis)Comfort TV: Classic Halloween #1

 Sometime around 1995, Halloween hijacked the month of October. Last year, with the exception on one Munsters vs. Addams piece, Comfort TV sat out this annual tradition. But this year I’ve caught the spirit and will be offering recommendations on some classic Halloween episodes and some off-the-wall holiday specials.

This week, let’s take a look at five Comfort TV episodes that, while not specifically Halloween-themed, were still more frightening than a Miley Cyrus video.

“Living Doll”

The Twilight Zone

Choosing just one episode of The Twilight Zone for a piece on unsettling television is like trying to choose the worst episode of Small Wonder. There are just too many exceptional nominees. But even among such classic stories as “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” “Long Distance Call,” “The After Hours,” “Twenty Two” and “Eye of the Beholder,” the TZ story that lingered longest in my memory was “Living Doll.” Telly Savales played the abusive stepfather to a little girl who had a doll named Talky Tina. And Tina did not like Telly.

Do we need spoilers for a 50 year-old episode? If you haven’t seen it but are familiar with the Child’s Play movies, you probably have some idea where the story is going. Savales’s heightened desperation, an ominous Bernard Herrmann score and the voice of June Foray as Tina create an escalating mood of tension that plays with the viewer’s loyalties. We enjoy watching the mean old stepdad get his, but the zinger at the end of the episode suggests that Tina may have already chosen her next victim.

“Twilight Town”

Bonanza

As the title suggests, “Twilight Town,” seems inspired by The Twilight Zone. The episode opens with Little Joe (Michael Landon) being knocked unconscious by a horse thief, and wandering into the mysterious town of Martinville. At first, he thinks the town long abandoned, but gradually Joe discovers he is not alone. After being nursed back to health, he is urged to become Martinville’s new sheriff.

The scares come not from quick cuts to frightening images, but from the slow realization of being trapped in a nightmare, in which everything seems normal on the surface but not quite right if you look a little closer. The climax seems to provide a logical explanation for what happens to Joe, but then there’s a little twist at the end that blurs the line between what’s real and imaginary.

“Fright Night”

The Brady Bunch

Whether it was building houses of cards, or Greg running against Marsha for class president, the “boys vs. the girls” episodes of The Brady Bunch usually ranked among the series’ best. Here, a ghost in the backyard frightens Jan and Cindy. They later discover that their brothers created it. The three very lovely girls plot their revenge and the usual hijinks ensue.

Maybe some suspension of disbelief is required to believe that the cellophane ghost rising from the trunk could really be that terrifying. But the attic sequence is certainly fun, and there’s an amusing climax when all six kids put their differences aside and team up to scare Alice. Also, watch for Maureen McCormick’s amusingly unsuccessful attempt to pronounce the word “werewolves.” 

“The Ghost of A. Chantz”

The Dick Van Dyke Show

A reservation glitch at a mountain cabin lands Rob, Laura, Buddy and Sally in the same isolated cottage for one night, and strange things start to happen. Some of the scares are surprisingly intense for a breezy sitcom, particularly the sinister faces that appear in the mirrors.

Morey Amsterdam plays the Lou Costello role to perfection, and the mystery is resolved in an unexpected and satisfying manner. 

“Assignment #1”

Sapphire and Steel

There were just six episodes, aired between 1979 and 1982, but the British sci-fi series Sapphire and Steel still retains a loyal cult following, and has just been released for a second time on DVD. David McCallum and Joanna Lumley, both better known for other TV roles, play inter-dimensional agents assigned to correct any unnatural breaks in the timeline.

In the atmospheric first episode, Sapphire (Lumley) and Steel (McCallum) arrive at a remote 18^th century farmhouse to help two children whose parents have disappeared. The story unfolds over six half-hour episodes in which the two leads remain stubbornly enigmatic, and even brusque with the frightened kids they are ostensibly there to aid. The story is deliberately paced, which is usually a polite way of saying ‘slow.’ But if you have the patience for Jon Pertwee era Doctor Who, and don’t mind rudimentary visual effects in the service of intriguing stories and characters, the eerie, foreboding tone that emanates from this tale will draw you under its spell. 

Next week, I’ll look at five memorable episodes that were directly inspired by All Hallow’s Eve.