Wednesday, October 12, 2011

"What You Need"

Steve Cochran and Ernest Truex

"What You Need"
Season One, Episode 12
Original Air Date: December 25, 1959

Cast:
Pedott: Ernest Truex
Fred Renard: Steve Cochran
Lefty: Read Morgan
Bartender: William Edmonson
Girl in Bar: Arline Sax
Woman: Doris Karnes
Hotel Clerk: Norman Sturgis
Woman on Street: Judy Ellis
Man on Street: Fred Kruger

Crew:
Writer: Rod Serling (Teleplay based on the short story of the same name written by Lewis Padgett (psuedonym of husband and wife Henry Kuttner and Catherine L. Moore) originally published in Astounding Science Fiction, October 1945.)
Director: Alvin Ganzer
Producer: Buck Houghton
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Art Direction: George W. Davis and William Ferrari
Set Decoration: Rudy Butler and Henry Grace
Assistant Director: Edward Denault
Casting: Mildred Gusse
Editor: Joseph Gluck
Sound: Franklin Milton and Jean Valentino
Music: Nathan Van Cleve

And now, Mr. Serling:
"This is the season of gift giving, big gifts and little gifts, and expensive ones and not so expensive ones. Well, next time, the Twilight Zone gives you its own peculiar, oddball brand of gift giving. Mr. Steve Cochran and Mr. Ernest Truex combine talents to tell a story about a little man who has what you need, our next offering on the Twilight Zone."

Rod Serling's Opening Narration:
"You're looking at Mr. Fred Renard, who carries on his shoulder a chip the size of the national debt. This is a sour man, a friendless man, a lonely man, a grasping, compulsive, nervous man. This is a man who has lived thirty-six undistinguished, meaningless, pointless, failure laden years and who at this moment looks for an escape, any escape, any way, anything, anybody to get out of the rut. And this little old man is just what Mr. Renard is waiting for."

Summary:
                An old man named Pedott pedals his wares, nicknacks lugged around in a portmanteau, on a particular block in an unnamed, perpetually night-fallen, film-noir city. On that block is a neighborhood bar. The old man goes into that bar, bouncing from customer to customer, trying to interest the patrons in something from his collection of odds and ends. When a woman sitting alone wants to buy some matches, Pedott instead gives her a bottle of stain remover, intoning that "this is what you need." It is the credo of the episode, a resonant statement of Pedott's unique ability of insight into what people will need in their near futures. 
                Pedott provides another patron, a washed-up ex-professional baseball player with a lame pitching arm named Lefty, with a one-way bus ticket to Scranton, Pennslyvania. These items are taken from the old man with a certain bit of reluctance but, thinking the old man feeble-minded but essentially harmless, they take the items anyway. Shortly after these items are distributed, Lefty gets a phone call informing him that one of his former team managers has acquired Lefty a much-needed job, coaching a minor league baseball team in Scranton, Pennslyvania. Lefty asks the old man how he knew about Scranton and the bus ticket but the old man just shruggs it off and advises Lefty not to think about it or question it but to simply take advantage of the opportunity afforded him. It's good advice. Lefty complains about a spot on his only good jacket that he needs to get out in order to look professional for his new job and, coincidentally, is overheard by the woman earlier given the stain remover by Pedott. We are left with the notion that perhaps these two people may begin a change for the better, together. Pedott, meanwhile, has slipped out of the bar, not unnoticed by someone else.
                The seemingly simple magic that he has displayed has drawn the notice of a brutish loser at the bar named Fred Renard. Renard is a man always down on his luck. He has turned all the frustration and anger caused by this run of ill luck inward and has, by consequence, become a sulky, violent character, nearly devoid of all conscience and humanity, living only to scrape by and claw at any cure-all chance that presents itself. He sees his ticket out of his misery in the old man Pedott's uncanny ability. 
                Renard follows Pedott out into the street where the old man sets up his wares on a stand to offer them to passersby. Pedott knows, as unfailingly as he knows what people need, that Renard is an ill-meaning man. The confrontation turns violent when Renard grabs the smaller, more feeble man and demands that Pedott provide him with what he needs. Pedott gives Renard a pair of scissors. At first believing the old man to be playing a trick on him, Renard relents and stalks away. Later, while in a hotel elevator, Renard's long scarf is caught within the door of the moving elevator car. Unable to free himself and halfway choking to death, Renard remembers the scissors and cuts the scarf and lives through the harrowing experience. He laughs, almost maniaclly, at his good fortune, good fortune provided by Pedott's special talent. This, Renard sees, is the opportunity of a lifetime, an opportunity to fix all the mistakes he's made and to live the rest of his life with guaranteed good fortune. 
                 When Pedott returns home later that night, he finds an unpleasant surprise. Renard is waiting for him. The old man spills his items on the floor and Renard ridicules him and bullies him into a patnership, despite Pedott's unwillingness to enter into any kind of pact with the other man. Pedott, surely hoping to be rid of the bullying Renard, gives the younger man a leaky fountain pen which just happens to dip onto a newspaper listing the name of a racehorse. Renard runs off to place his bet on that horse.
                It wins him a couple hundred dollars but it's not enough. Men like Renard, once reaping the benefits of good fortune, resort to a vicious greediness. He accost Pedott once again, this time on the street, on Pedott's usual corner for setting up his items to sell. Pedott tells Renard that this cannot continue between them and that he, Pedott, cannot provide Renard with what the angry younger man truly needs, this being compassion, humor, an ability to laugh at oneself. Unsatisfied, Renard further threatens Pedott until the old man gestures to a pair of shoes that Renard greedily grabs and puts on. Pedott, meanwhile, has used this opportunity to pack up his items and begin to cross the street. Renard, confused as to the pertinence of the shoes, again threatens to hurt Pedott when Pedott informs him that the shoes are, in fact, what Pedott himself needs and not what Renard needs. Anger outweighing his reason, Renard begins to cross the street after Pedott only to slip on the slick ice that has formed on the street. A speeding car comes around the corner and wipes Renard out, killing him. 
                It was a hit and run and, moments later, the street is filled with curious people, an ambulance, and the press. Two sly jokes, one sweet, the other morbid, ends the show. Pedott provides a man roused from sleep and out into the street from the noise with a simple comb, that later proves useful to straighten out his unruly hair when the press decides to take his picture. We are left with the ambulance, sirens off, carrying the body of Fred Renard and the only thing left on the street at the site of his death is a pair of slippery shoes.

Rod Serling's Closing Narration: 
     "Street scene. Night. Traffic Accident. Victim named Fred Renard, gentleman with a sour face to whom contentment came with difficulty. Fred Renard, who took all that was needed. . . in the Twilight Zone."

Commentary:               
Illustration by Williams

                Although it is an adaptation of an existing piece of short fiction, this serviceable but unmemorable episode feels more like a Rod Serling original than an adaptation of someone else's work. Much like the previous episode, "And When the Sky Was Opened," Serling used little except the basic concept from the source material. Henry Kuttner and C.L. Moore's original short story describes a scientist that invents a machine able to predict an individual's future and prescribe what was needed for that individual. Serling scrapped nearly everything and created his standard cast of (mostly) loveable losers, including Pedott (Ernest Truex), the meek old man with the ability to see a person's future and give them what they need to face that future. 
                The entire episode is really just a gimmick plot servicing a twist ending and although Serling attempts to give the script some dimension of character, the paper thin plot is really what makes the episode unremarkable. The concept is not particularly fresh now and wasn't at the time of filming, either. As popular culture historian Martin Grams points out in his book, The Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic (2008, OTR), Kuttner and Moore's short story had already appeared in the authors 1954 collection, Line to Tomorrow, and had previously been broadcast on the television show Tales of Tomorrow on February 8, 1952. 
           
     It was a nice touch for Serling to scrap the science-fiction trappings of the story and turn it into something of a film-noir meets fantasy episode. Even though we recognize, even this early into the show, Serling's stereotypical characters (the washed up man who once had promise, the lonely woman looking for something but not knowing what, the angry man who's certain all his problems are someone else's fault), the character of Pedott is a nice creation and Ernest Truex gives a memorable performance. The character of Fred Renard is too heavy-handed, however, too over the top, and is the kind of one-dimensional villain you don't normally see in The Twilight Zone. 
            It's unfortunate that this is the only piece from either Kuttner or Moore (or both in tandem, as the couple almost always collaborated once they married) that Serling or producer Buck Houghton optioned for the show, and in greatly truncated form at that. Catherine L. (C.L.) Moore is an influential, and, for the time (1930s), very progressive author of fantasy and science fiction. Before meeting husband Henry Kuttner in 1938, her most influential works consisted of her science-fiction vampire story "Shambleau" from the November 1933 issue of Weird Tales, the Jirel of Joiry stories featuring the first female hero of the fantasy sub-genre commonly known as sword-and-scorcery, and the Edgar Rice Burroughs-inspired planetary romance stories starring her character Northwest Smith. Henry Kuttner was mainly known, and is still remembered, for his first published story, the horror classic "The Graveyard Rats" from the March 1936 issue of Weird Tales. The two writers began to achieve their greatest work, however, once they met and later married. From this point on the two wrote nearly everything in tandem under a number of pseudonyms including Lewis Padgett and Laurence O'Donnell. Even the most astute reader will find it difficult to tell where one writer stops and other begins. Together they produced many memorable novels and stories, including "No Woman Born" (1944) and "Vintage Season" (1946) (the latter stroy is included in the Science Fiction Writers Association's The Science Fiction Hall of Fame) and the oft-reprinted novel Fury (1947). 
            Kuttner was particularly important as a literary mentor and influence on two writers from The Twilight Zone who also became great literary fantasists, Ray Bradbury and Richard Matheson. Bradbury selected and introduced a career retrospective of Kuttner's short stories for the Science Fiction Book Club, The Best of Henry Kuttner (1975), and Matheson dedicated his most famous novel, the oft-filmed I Am Legend (1954) to Kuttner. His influence, and the influence of his collaborative work with Moore on subsequent science fiction writers, is profound. 
                 Sadly, what we get with Kuttner and Moore's sole appearance on the show is a rather lackluster and somewhat predictable outing that feels more like a "filler" episode between two really good ones. It is worth seeking out the two writers' work, however, for most fans of the show will find their subject and style appealing.

Grade:C

 Notes:
-Ernest Truex also starred in the exceptional third season episode "Kick the Can."
-Alvin Ganzer's other directing credits for the show include "The Hitch-Hiker," "Nightmare As a Child," and some sequences of "The Mighty Casey," all from the show's first season.
-"What you Need" was adapted into a Twilight Zone Radio Drama by Dennis Etchison, starring Bruno Kirby. 
--Jordan Prejean

Saturday, October 8, 2011

"And When the Sky Was Opened"



“And When the Sky Was Opened”
Season One, Episode 11
Original Air Date: December 11, 1959

Cast:
Colonel Clegg Forbes: Rod Taylor
Major William Gart: James Hutton
Colonel Ed Harrington: Charles Aidman
Amy: Maxine Cooper
Bartender: Paul Bryer
Girl in Bar: Gloria Pall
Nurse: Sue Randall
Medical Officer: Joe Bassett

Crew:
Writer: Rod Serling (teleplay based on the short story “Disappearing Act” by Richard Matheson).
Director: Douglas Heyes
Producer: Buck Houghton
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Art Direction: George W. Davis and William Ferrari
Set Decoration: Rudy Butler and Henry Grace
Assistant Director: Edward Denault
Casting: Mildred Gusse
Editor: Fred Maguire
Sound: Franklin Milton and Jean Valentino
Music: Leonard Rosenman

And Now, Mr. Serling:
 “Next week three men return from a flight into space only to discover that their nightmare has just begun. Rod Taylor, James Hutton, and Charles Aidman appear in ‘And When the Sky Was Opened.’ What happens to these men once they’re picked up in the desert? [Serling vanishes] Well, that gives you a rough idea. You’ll see next week on the Twilight Zone. Thank you and good night.”

Rod Serling’s Opening Narration:
 “Her name: X-20. Her type: an experimental interceptor. Recent history: a crash landing in the Mojave Desert after a thirty-five hour flight, nine hundred miles into space. Incidental data: the ship with the men who flew her disappeared from the radar screen for twenty-four hours. But the shrouds that cover mysteries are not always made out of a tarpaulin, as this man will soon find out on the other side of a hospital door.”

 Summary:
Colonel Clegg Forbes is having a bad day. Forbes is an astronaut with the United States Air Force whose spacecraft, the X-20, has crash-landed in the Mojave Desert after it mysteriously disappeared from the radar screen. He was accompanied on the trip by two others, Colonel Ed Harrington and Major William Gart. Several days after the crash Forbes, noticeably shaken, visits Major Gart in the hospital. Forbes asks Gart if he remembers Ed Harrington. Gart looks at him like he is insane and tells him that he doesn’t know anyone named Ed Harrington, and that he and Forbes went up in the X-20 alone. Forbes then launches into an outline of the events of the previous day.
          Forbes visited Gart in his hospital room with Ed Harrington just before going out to a bar. In his hands Harrington held a newspaper with a picture of the three astronauts on the front page. The two senior officers poked some fun at Gart’s condition and then left. Once at the bar, Harrington’s behavior became erratic. He told Forbes that he felt as if something was terribly wrong, like he didn’t belong there. Attempting to brush it off, Harrington excused himself and walked to a payphone in the corner to call his parents. A few minutes later Harrington called Forbes over to the payphone where Forbes found his friend trembling. He told Forbes that he called his parents but they claimed that they didn’t have a son. Forbes walked back to the bar to order Harrington a drink to calm his nerves. When he returned, the phone booth was empty. Forbes asked the bartender if he knew where his friend had gone but the bartender replied that Forbes had come into the bar alone. Forbes then noticed the newspaper with the picture of the astronauts on the front cover. It was exactly the same except now there were only two people in the picture, Forbes and Gart. Later that night Forbes’s girlfriend arrived at his hotel room. Forbes asked her if she knew a man named Ed Harrington. She said she did not. Fearing that he might be losing his mind, Forbes left the hotel room and wandered around town in a paranoid frenzy for the rest of the night before showing up at Gart’s hospital room in the morning.
         Major Gart looks at his friend with concern and tells him that he doesn’t know anyone named Ed Harrington. Forbes tells Gart that he thinks Harrington was somehow erased from existence and that the two of them are next. He says he feels a strange sensation then runs out of the room screaming. Gart notices that the newspaper photo has changed and Forbes is no longer in the picture. The caption says that it was a solo mission.
Later. A nurse shows a hospital supervisor into Gart’s room, now empty.
Even later. Airplane hangar, also empty. The X-20 was once housed here. Or perhaps it wasn’t. Perhaps the only place it ever really existed…was in the Twilight Zone.

Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:
 “Once upon a time, there was a man named Harrington, a man named Forbes, a man named Gart. They used to exist, but don’t any longer. Someone—or something—took them somewhere. At least they are no longer a part of the memory of man. And as to the X-20 supposed to be housed here in this hangar, this too does not exist. And if any of you have any questions concerning an air craft and three men who flew her, speak softly of them…and only in the Twilight Zone.”

 Commentary:
“And When the Sky Was Opened” is Rod Serling’s adaptation of Richard Matheson’s story “Disappearing Act,” although the similarity between the two stories is virtually nonexistent. Matheson’s story is an epistolary account of a down-on-his-luck writer whose life is made even worse when all of the things important to him (his wife, his mistress, his friends, his house) suddenly start to disappear. Eventually, even he disappears, ending his story in mid-sentence.  Serling took the premise of this story and wrote an entirely new one with different characters, a different setting, and a much different plot. Serling felt that there was no rationale to Matheson’s story, no reason why the narrator’s life suddenly starts to disappear. In Serling's story the characters are astronauts recently returned to Earth, giving the audience something to blame for their inexplicable disappearance: Space. In 1959 Space exploration was still a new concept and many people were apprehensive about sending human beings where no man had gone before. Serling likely had this is mind when he rewrote Matheson’s story into a teleplay about astronauts. He also might have seen an opportunity to exploit the international space race between the United States and Russia. Writing about current events would establish the show’s credibility with mainstream viewers who ordinarily did not watch fantasy programs. He even named the aircraft in his script the X-20 after the X-20 Dynamic Soarer (Dyna-Soar), an experimental vessel designed by the United States Air Force for military espionage as well as space exploration. 
Serling’s statement concerning the lack of rationale in the original story holds a certain amount of validity in that it works on the page very well but if adapted faithfully it probably would not have worked on the screen for it relies heavily on its epistolary structure of journal entries. However, his version is so far removed from the original it seems odd that he would go to the trouble of purchasing the story from Matheson just to credit it as source material. The title could be the reason he wanted the screen rights to the story. Serling originally intended to use Matheson’s title, which he would have had to purchase if his story resembled Matheson’s in any way, but changed it to “And When the Sky Was Opened” after production was completed.
           Richard Matheson is a writer whose work seems tailor-made for a show like The Twilight Zone. In his introduction to the definitive collection of his short fiction, Richard Matheson: Collected Stories (edited by Stanley Wiater; Edge Books, 2003), Matheson describes the underlying motif in much of his early fiction in this manner: the individual isolated in a threatening world, attempting to survive. Matheson’s fiction is heavily concerned with psychology and even though much of it is fantasy he takes a realistic approach to exploring how people react to their surroundings. His characters are usually incredibly flawed individuals, fraught with disillusionment and paranoia. Serling often described the most devastating type of fear as a fear of the unknown that affects only one person, a fear which that person cannot share with anyone else. If this was going to be a central theme on The Twilight Zone then a writer like Matheson would have been an obvious choice for the series. He is widely recognized as the writer who shaped the modern horror story, taking it out of the tired confines of European folklore and placing it in suburban neighborhoods and shopping malls. Matheson wasn’t the first writer to do this—friends and fellow Twilight Zone alumni Ray Bradbury and Henry Kuttner had been publishing horror stories set in the modern world since the 1940’s—but he was the first to make it a defining characteristic of his fiction. Matheson’s world was immediately recognizable to readers and his protagonists were far more sympathetic than the archetypal heroes of Lovecraft and Poe.
Although CBS greenlit production on The Twilight Zone based on the popularity of Serling’s unofficial pilot “The Time Element,” which aired on Westinghouse-Desilu Playhouse in 1958, they had done so reluctantly. Network officials were still not entirely sold on the mainstream appeal of a fantasy program and wanted to insure their investment. In exchange for their risk CBS wanted Serling to write eighty percent of the scripts for the first season. The basis for this requirement was that Serling’s name was familiar and was frequently associated with quality material. This amounted to Serling writing 28 of season one’s 36 episodes by himself. Because of such a monumental obligation he often adapted the works of others to consolidate time. Serling had always possessed an eye for adaptation even in his days as a writer for live television—his 1957 adaptation of Ernest Lehman’s story “The Comedian” for Playhouse 90 earned him an Emmy Award. Dialogue and characterization were always his greatest attributes as a writer. He could analyze a story quickly, picking out the idiosyncrasies of the characters and expanding upon them in a way that was compelling.
            In the months before production began on The Twilight Zone, Serling, always a writer’s writer, opened up story submissions to anyone who felt that their work would be a good fit for the show. He and a small editorial staff received over 14,000 manuscripts worth of unusable material in just five days. This approach was quite obviously not going to work. Months later, Serling tried again. He arranged a screening of “Where is Everybody?” and invited a number of highly regarded science fiction and fantasy writers to attend. Among those in attendance were Richard Matheson, Charles Beaumont, and Ray Bradbury. All three had been on Serling’s radar for some time. It had initially been thought that Bradbury—by this time a reputable name on the page and on the screen—would be a major contributor to the show. However, after having multiple teleplays rejected for various reasons—usually budgetary concerns—Bradbury grew frustrated with the show and with Serling in particular, causing a life-long strain on their friendship. Beaumont had come to Serling’s attention through Bradbury and through Beaumont’s literary agent, Forrest J. Ackerman, who was also Lynn A. Venable’s agent and would sell Serling the rights to Venable’s story “Time Enough at Last.” After getting his foot in the door Beaumont repaid the favor, so to speak, by recommending close friend George Clayton Johnson as a possible contributor. Serling bought and adapted Johnson’s stories “All of Us Are Dying” (as “The Four of Us Are Dying”) and “Execution” before allowing Johnson to write his own teleplays. Matheson had also come to Serling’s attention through Bradbury. Serling had been particularly moved by Matheson’s story “The Test” about a dystopia where elderly people were required to pass a state-mandated exam in order to avoid being euthanized. Serling likely had an affinity for this story because it resembled his recently rejected teleplay “The Happy Place” which he submitted as the show’s potential pilot episode. However, Serling decided not to purchase screen rights for “The Test,” feeling it would be more effective in a longer format. Instead, he secured the rights to two much shorter stories, “Disappearing Act” and “Third From the Sun,” before inviting Matheson to the pilot screening to persuade him to write for the show. 
            Los Angeles in the 1950’s and 60’s was the place to live if you were a science fiction or fantasy writer. It’s also where one needed to live in order to have a career in the television and film industry. By the time they met Rod Serling, Matheson and Beaumont were close friends who had known each other for nearly a decade. Although they were very different people, Beaumont an enthusiastic adventurer who was constantly in motion and Matheson quieter and more reclusive, they shared similar opinions about fiction, especially fantasy. No matter what the fantasy element, they felt, the story should be grounded in reality and the characters, at least some of them, relatable in some way. Serling obviously shared their feelings and this is likely why he sought them out as contributors.
            When Matheson first moved to California in 1951 after publishing his famous first story “Born of Man and Woman” in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction the year before, he fell in with a group of writers who called themselves the Fictioneers. Matheson, only twenty-three at the time, was staying with writer William Campbell Gault while looking for a place of his own. Through his friendship with Gault he met William R. Cox, Henry Kuttner, Les Savage, and a dozen or so other writers who would meet several times a month for all-night drinking sessions where they would discuss sales, share influences, and workshop each other’s writing. Many of them wrote mysteries and westerns which, Matheson says, is why he turned to the mystery genre when writing his first two novels, Someone Is Bleeding and Fury on Sunday (both Lion Books, 1953).
Within a year or so, however, Matheson had fallen in with another group of writers that would collectively become known as “The Southern California School of Writers,” (taken from a quote by Los Angeles Times critic Robert Kirsch) or simply “The Group.” The Group played a significant part in the history of The Twilight Zone because almost all of the show’s writers including Beaumont, Johnson, Bradbury, Jerry Sohl, and John Tomerlin were connected to it. Robert Bloch, William F. Nolan, Harlan Ellison, Ray Russell, Chad Oliver, Frank M. Robinson, Charles Fritch, and Forrest J. Ackerman were also closely associated with this circle of friends. The Group found in each other the creative drive to produce the best work possible. Their spirited enthusiasm had an indelible impression on their work and out of this camaraderie came countless masterpieces of American popular fiction—Matheson’s I Am Legend, Nolan and Johnson’s Logan’s Run, Bloch’s Psycho, and Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 and The Martian Chronicles are but the peak of a mountain of quality work from this group of writers, many of whom are unfortunately forgotten. Many contemporary writers of fantasy and science fiction, genres that now make the New York Times bestsellers list on a regular basis, cite these authors as major influences and it is to the discredit of the publishing industry that so much of their work is no longer in print.
Like Matheson, Beaumont could hop genres effortlessly. A look at his first three collections will reveal fantasy stories, science fiction stories, crime stories, mainstream stories, social commentaries, and stories that explored his varied interests like jazz and auto racing. His second novel, The Intruder (1959), which was based on a real event, is a vicious commentary on racial segregation that could have been written by Serling. After establishing themselves as novelists and short story writers they decided to venture into the world of screenwriting. Because it was a new medium to both of them they decided to collaborate on a handful of projects to increase their chances of success. Together they wrote scripts for western shows like Wanted: Dead or Alive, Have Gun—Will Travel, and Buckskin, and detective shows like The D.A.’s Man and Markham. They also wrote a feature-length adaptation of Fritz Leiber’s classic horror novel Conjure Wife (1943) called Night of the Eagle. It was made into a film by Sidney Hayers for American International in 1962 and released under the title Burn, Witch, Burn. Also, between the two of them they wrote, or co-wrote, all of Roger Corman’s Edgar Allan Poe films for American International, although they did not collaborate on any of these. When they were approached to write for The Twilight Zone each felt comfortable enough writing in his native genre that they decided to write their own material.
Matheson’s first screen credit came back in 1955, several years before he began trying to sell his own scripts, when his story “Shapeshift Home” was adapted by Lawrence Kimble as “Young Couple’s Only” for the anthology show Studio 57 on the DuMont Network—Peter Lorre played an evil janitor with an eye in the back of his head. His big break into the film industry came when he was approached by producer Albert Zugsmith for the screen rights to his novel The Shrinking Man (Fawcett Gold Medal, 1956). Matheson agreed to sell the rights with the stipulation that he write the screenplay. Released by Universal Studios in 1957 as The Incredible Shrinking Man, it was directed by science fiction screen legend Jack Arnold and features groundbreaking special effects and a terrific performance from Grant Williams as the tragic Scott Carey. Today it’s considered a classic of the genre.
Throughout his prolific and illustrious screen career Matheson regularly worked with some of the most recognizable names in the history of cinema including Vincent Price, Steven Spielberg, Dan Curtis, Roger Corman, and of course Rod Serling. He wrote fourteen episodes of The Twilight Zone—not including Serling’s two adaptations or his rejected fifth season teleplay “The Doll”—which makes him the third-most frequent contributor after Serling and Beaumont. His catalog includes some of the most recognizable images from the show like Agnes Moorehead demolishing the enemy spacecraft in season two’s “The Invaders” or William Shatner’s taunting gremlin in season five’s “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet.” Matheson worked with Serling again on Night Gallery during the show’s second season where he wrote the segments “Big Surprise” and “The Funeral.” In 1983 he wrote 3/4 of the script for Twilight Zone: The Movie, which saw Mad Max director George Miller remake “Nightmare at 20,000” with John Lithgow in the Shatner role. He also wrote an episode of the 1980’s Twilight Zone series called “Button, Button,” which he adapted from his well-known short story of the same name. The segment was poorly directed, however, with underwhelming performances and Matheson replaced his byline with his pseudonym, Logan Swanson, as he often did whenever he disliked an unfavorable adaptation of his material. He also wrote a segment of The Twilight Zone: Rod Serling’s Lost Classics, which aired on CBS in May of 1994. It brought to the screen two works by Serling, an apparent story treatment for an unrealized Twilight Zone film called “The Theatre,” adapted by Matheson, and an unproduced, fully-scripted teleplay called “Where the Dead Are.” Outside of The Twilight Zone, Matheson had a fruitful relationship with American International Pictures, adapting the works of Poe and Jules Verne as well as scripting a film about the Marquis de Sade. He wrote six episodes of the ABC series Lawman for which his episode “Yawkey” (1960) earned him a Writer’s Guild Award. He also wrote an episode for the first season of Star Trek called “The Enemy Within.” In 1971 he adapted his story “Duel” into a film for ABC which was the first feature-length film directed by Steven Spielberg. He wrote the teleplay for the ABC film “The Night Stalker” (1972) which inspired the Kolchak series. This won him another Writer’s Guild Award and an Edgar Allan Poe Award. He wrote a sequel the following year called The Night Strangler. He wrote screenplays for his novels Hell House and Bid Time Returns which were made into successful films as The Legend of Hell House (1973) and Somewhere in Time (1980), respectively. His acclaimed miniseries The Dreamer of Oz about the life of Wizard of Oz creator L. Frank Baum aired on NBC in 1990. His career in film and television spanned four decades and produced hundreds of teleplays and screenplays, some realized and some not, but his work on The Twilight Zone may be his lasting legacy.
          Unfortunately, despite his successes on both the big screen and the small, Matheson never saw a faithful adaptation of his classic vampire novel I Am Legend (Fawcett Gold Medal, 1954), which many consider to be his masterpiece. Hollywood has tried three different times to bring this landmark novel to the screen but none of their attempts have been particularly successful. Director Sidney Salkow made the first attempt in 1964 with The Last Man on Earth starring Vincent Price. Matheson wrote the initial draft of the screenplay but it was rewritten by William F. Leicester. Matheson was unhappy with the finished draft and replaced his name with the Logan Swanson byline. And while he admired Vincent Price a great deal Matheson felt that he was not the right choice for this role which is probably true. Still, the film is enjoyable and is probably the best, and most faithful, adaptation of his novel. The second attempt came just a few years later in 1971 when Warner Brothers released The Omega Man starring Charlton Heston. Directed by Twilight Zone alumni Boris Sagal from an extremely loose adaptation by John William Corrington and Joyce H. Corrington, this version is neither faithful nor enjoyable. The third and probably most well-known version is 2007’s I Am Legend starring Will Smith. This was also released by Warner Brothers and is in fact based partially on the Corrington’s screenplay for The Omega Man although the resemblance is minimal. It was adapted by Mark Protosevich and Akiva Goldsman and directed by Francis Lawrence. This version is up and down. Smith delivers a compelling performance but an unfaithful screenplay and horrible computer imagery make it mediocre and predictable. Ironically, the film that best captures Matheson’s novel is not an actual adaptation. Director George Romero has stated several times that his classic 1968 zombie film Night of the Living Dead was heavily inspired by I Am Legend as Matheson’s novel has more to do with survival and psychology than with vampires.
“And When the Sky Was Opened” also marks The Twilight Zone debut of Douglas Heyes (1919 – 1993), one of the finest directors to ever work on the program. A renaissance man, Heyes was also a skilled musician, painter, actor, screenwriter, and novelist—his 1985 crime novel The Kill was nominated for a Shamus Award. Heyes made nine episodes during the first and second seasons of the show, although his influence can be felt throughout the entire run of the series. He had an eclectic style that lent itself to the show spectacularly. If Houghton knew that an episode was going to be aesthetically challenging Heyes was usually his first choice as director. In “Eye of the Beholder” Heyes meticulously storyboarded each shot and maneuvers the camera so that none of the actors’ faces are seen until the big reveal at the end. In “The Howling Man” he uses tilted camera angles throughout much of the episode to convey the confusion of the main character. This established an atmosphere from the very beginning that The Twilight Zone would be a show that took risks. His style here is more reserved than most of his episodes but Serling’s script focuses mostly on the psychological deterioration of each character so Heyes simply lets the actors do most of the heavy-lifting. There are a few unusual shots in the episode. In the hotel scene, as Taylor slowly backs out onto the balcony, Heyes gives the illusion that the room is higher off the ground than it actually is. When Taylor suddenly leaps off the balcony it is revealed that the room is ground level. In the scene immediately after this, when Taylor returns to the bar, Heyes has him spontaneously crash through a glass door, a ludicrous idea that works brilliantly.
         The actors are largely what make this a memorable episode. Charles Aidman and James Hutton both turn in great performances, but Rod Taylor is unquestionably the hero of this episode. Taylor (1930-2015) was an Australian-born actor who is probably best remembered for his roles in George Pal’s The Time Machine (1960) and Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963) and as the voice of Pongo in Disney’s 101 Dalmatians (1961). His performance as the frazzled Clegg Forbes is brilliant. His facial expressions and physical mannerisms are particularly impressive, especially in his scenes with Hutton. At times, he is so committed to the neurosis of this character that some of his scenes are nerve-racking to watch. Taylor maintained a relatively successful career in film and television until the end of his life. His last role was as Winston Churchill in Quentin Tarantino’s Inglorious Bastards (2009). He died in 2015 at the age of 84.
This episode isn’t without its flaws, however. Many fans and critics have expressed their dissatisfaction with the final scene in which the camera pans over a neatly folded canvas tarp sitting inside a square of caution tape inside an airplane hangar. This is a throw-back to the opening scene which features the X-20 inside the hangar with caution tape around it and a tarp pulled over it. The scene is effective upon the first viewing but it discredits the continuity of the script. Shouldn't the ship's hangar be empty now that everything from the mission is being erased? During a screening of this episode at Sherwood Oaks College in 1975 several students brought this question to Serling’s attention. He agreed that the scene didn’t follow the continuity of the story very well and said that the episode probably should have ended with Hutton’s realization that he would be the next to vanish.
           Despite a few loose ends “And When the Sky Was Opened” is still a solid episode with terrific performances, great direction, and a great script. Serling recognized in Matheson’s fiction the type of fantasy he most identified with stripped to its basic thematic foundation: a fear of the unknown that one cannot share with others. His teleplay remains faithful to the original intent of Matheson’s story while changing the plot to fit the medium. It’s comes recommended to any unacquainted viewers looking for a starting point on their journey through the Twilight Zone. 

Grade: B

Grateful acknowledgement is made to the following:

The Twilight and Other Zones: The Dark Worlds of Richard Matheson edited by Stanley Wiater, Matthew R. Bradley, and Paul Stuve (Citadel Press Books, 2009)

--“The Matheson Years: A Profile in Friendship” by William F. Nolan (1996)

--“The Incredible Scripting Man: Richard Matheson Reflects on His Screen Career” by Matthew R. Bradley (2009)

--“Bibliographies, Filmographies, and More” by Paul Stuve and Matthew R. Bradley (2009)

Richard Matheson on Screen: A History of the Filmed Works by Matthew R. Bradley (McFarland, 2010)

Richard Matheson: Collected Stories, Volume 1 edited by Stanley Wiater (Edge Books, 2003).

“California Sorcerers: A Group Portrait” by Christopher Conlon. California Sorcery (Cemetery Dance, 1999), edited by William F. Nolan and William Schafer.

The Twilight Zone Definitive Edition DVD Season One (Image Entertainment, 2004)

--“And When the Sky Was Opened”

--Rod Serling Lecture at Sherwood Oaks College, 1975

--Douglas Heyes interview with Marc Scott Zicree

--Rod Taylor Commentary

The Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic by Martin Grams, Jr. (OTR Publishing, 2008)

 Notes:

-“Disappearing Act” by Richard Matheson first appeared in the March, 1953 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. It appeared in his first short story collection, Born of Man and Woman (Chamberlain Press, 1954). It also appeared in The Twilight Zone: The Original Stories (MJF, 1985) which Matheson co-edited with Martin H. Greenburg and Charles G. Waugh. It can currently be found in his collection Nightmare at 20,000 Feet (Tor, 2002).

-Charles Aidman also stars in the season three episode “Little Girl Lost.” He is also the narrator of the first revival series of The Twilight Zone, which aired from 1985 to 1987 on CBS.

--Douglas Heyes directed a total of nine episodes of the show including the fan favorites “The After Hours,” “The Howling Man,” “Eye of the Beholder,” and “The Invaders.” He also wrote three segments of Night Gallery: “The Dead Man” (season one, written and directed), “The Housekeeper” (season one, as Matthew Howard) and “Brenda” (season two, as Matthew Howard).

--"And When the Sky Was Opened" was adapted into a Twilight Zone Radio Drama by Dennis Etchison starring Barry Bostwick.

 --Brian Durant

--Updated, October 17, 2016


"Judgment Night"

The S. S. Queen of Glasgow, doomed to roam the night throughout eternity.



“Judgment Night”
Season One, Episode 10
Original air date: December 4, 1959

Cast:
Carl Lanser: Nehemiah Persoff
Lieutenant Mueller: James Franciscus
Barbara Stanley: Deirdre Owen
Captain Wilbur: Ben Wright
First Officer: Patrick MacNee
Mr. Potter: Hugh Sanders
Major Devereaux: Leslie Bradley
Bartender: Kendrick Huxham
First Steward: Richard Peel
Second Steward: Donald Journeaux
Engineer: Barry Bernard

Crew:
Writer: Rod Serling (original teleplay)
Director: John Brahm
Producer: Buck Houghton
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Art Direction: George W. Davis and William Ferrari
Set Decoration: Rudy Butler and Henry Grace
Assistant Director: Edward Denault
Casting: Mildred Gusse
Editor: Bill Mosher
Sound: Franklin Milton and Jean Valentino
Music: Stock

And now, Mr. Serling:
“Once upon a time there was a ship sailing from Liverpool, England to New York. It never got there and one man on board knows why. Next week we tell this man’s story. The distinguished actor Nehemiah Persoff plays the role of Carl Lanser, a haunted man in a haunted story called ‘Judgment Night.’ This ship sails next week and we hope you’ll see it off. Thank you, and good night.”

Rod Serling’s Opening Narration:
“Her name is the S. S. Queen of Glasgow. Her registry: British. Gross tonnage: five thousand. Age: indeterminate. At this moment she’s one day out of Liverpool, her destination: New York. Duly recorded on this ship’s log is the sailing time, course to destination, weather conditions, temperature, longitude and latitude. But what is never recorded in a log is the fear that washes over a deck like fog and ocean spray. Fear like the throbbing strokes of engine pistons, each like a heartbeat, parceling out every hour into breathless minutes of watching, waiting and dreading. For the year is 1942, and this particular ship has lost its convoy. It travels alone like an aged blind thing groping through the unfriendly dark, stalked by unseen periscopes of steel killers. Yes, the Queen of Glasgow is a frightened ship, and she carries with her a premonition of death.”

Summary:
          In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean on a fog-blanketed night in 1942, the S. S. Queen of Glasgow is making her way from Liverpool to New York. Onboard is one Carl Lanser. Mr. Lanser is distraught because he seems to have no recollection of how he came to be on the ship. He knows none of the other passengers and remembers very little about himself. But he does know one thing: something terrible is going to happen to the ship at 1:15 am.
Lanser wanders around the ship in a distorted haze and eventually makes his way into the lounge where he joins some of the other passengers and crew members, including the captain, at a table for tea. Still troubled over his situation, his behavior in front of his fellow passengers is noticeably bizarre. Lanser tells everyone that he believes something terrible will happen to the ship at 1:15 am.  He also seems to know a great deal about German U-boats which peaks the captain’s attention. After an uncomfortable conversation Lanser awkwardly excuses himself. Later, the captain has Lanser brought to the bridge where he asks him to provide a copy of his passport. Lanser says that his passport must be in his room so the captain has the steward follow him there to retrieve it. In his room the steward notices a German Navel Commander’s hat and asks Lanser if it’s a war souvenir. Angry for this invasion of his privacy, Lanser grabs the hat away from the steward and notices his name stitched into the inside of it. The hat is issued to him.
          Positive now that something is going to happen to the ship and frustrated at being powerless to stop it, Lanser spends the next few hours in the lounge drinking himself into a state of agitated incoherence. At 1:15 he finds himself drinking alone. The bartender and other passengers have inexplicably vanished.  With paranoia clinging to him, Lanser runs onto the deck and into the spotlight of a German U-boat shining directly in his face. While the U-boast fires upon the Queen of Glasgow Lanser races through the ship, screaming the names of the other passengers, but no one answers. He finds a pair of binoculars and peers through them at the U-boat. He sees himself on the hull on the German submarine. He continues to dart through the halls of the ship and then stumbles upon the rest of the passengers standing motionless in the middle of the hallway, glaring at him. He screams at them to do something but they only stand there. And then, they vanish. Knowing the ship is going to sink, Lanser jumps overboard but is pulled under with the current and drowns.
Later that night in the Captain’s barracks of the German submarine, a young lieutenant comes in to Lanser’s room to express his concerns over firing on a ship carrying women and children. He is afraid that perhaps they are now damned and will have to spend eternity paying for their sins. Lanser casually dismisses the lieutenant’s concerns as those of a religious fool.
Middle of the Atlantic Ocean. 1942. Night.
Carl Lanser is wandering around the deck of the S. S. Queen of Glasgow, mystified as to how he got onboard, doomed to relive a nightmare that he once inflicted upon others, for eternity.

Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:
“The S. S. Queen of Glasgow, heading for New York, and the time is 1942. For one man, it is always 1942—and this man will ride the ghost of that ship every night for eternity. This is what is meant by paying the fiddler. This is the comeuppance awaiting every man when the ledger of his life is opened and examined, the tally made, and then the reward or the penalty paid. And in the case of Carl Lanser, former Kapitan Leutnant, Navy of the Third Reich, this is the penalty. This is the justice meted out. This is judgment night in the Twilight Zone.”

Commentary:
“Judgment Night” is the first of many World War II episodes written by Rod Serling. As a paratrooper with the United States 11th Airborne Division during the war, Serling saw extensive combat in the Philippines and in Japan. He was wounded several times and was awarded the Purple Heart and the Bronze Star. Both the physical and emotional repercussions of his combat experiences would affect him for the rest of his life. In her 2013 memoir As I Knew Him: My Dad, Rod Serling author Anne Serling says her father suffered from what is now referred to as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder nearly all of his adult life. When he first arrived home, after two years of combat, Serling found adjusting to civilian life difficult. He initially relied on alcohol to get him through his torment but eventually turned to writing as a therapeutic device. This is likely why his work is so autobiographical and why certain themes and settings, like war, are so prevalent.
The anger and social criticism that became the trademarks of his work were present even at the beginning of his career. In her memoir Anne Serling features a fragment of an unpublished story that Serling wrote while in college titled “First Squad, First Platoon” about the death of one of his closest friends during the war. In his unabashedly bleak dedication to his unborn children Serling writes:

“…human beings don’t like to remember unpleasant things…my children, I don’t want you to be among those who forget...I want you to read my stories and others like them…I want you to feel a semblance of the feeling of a torn limb, a burnt patch of flesh, the crippling, numbing sensation of fear, the hopeless emptiness of fatigue. All these things are complimentary to the province of war and they should be taught in classrooms...In my generation we were to enjoy ‘Peace in our time’…but humans kept polishing their rose-colored glasses when actually they should have taken them off.”

His combat experiences, combined with the shock and grief of his father’s death and his anger over not being granted leave to return home to attend the funeral, gave young Serling a pessimistic view of the world, one that would never fully dissipate, resurfacing in his writing again and again throughout his career. Serling often based his stories on current events like the Emmett Till murder or the Adolph Eichmann trial. He felt that the arts, especially television, had a certain responsibility to discuss topics that politicians and corporations were afraid to discuss publically. He would have made an excellent journalist but he chose the dramatic form as his outlet for social commentary.
Serling, like many writers of this era, would often use Nazi’s and bigots as villains in their fiction. But Serling does something interesting with Carl Lanser in this story. Lanser is, in many ways, the standard Nazi heavy found throughout the popular culture of the 1940’s through the 1960’s. He is predictable and uninspired. But what makes him interesting is that Serling has taken him out of his element. The audience gets to witness the psychology of an archetypal villain as he struggles, unsuccessfully, to prove to himself that he is not losing his mind. He has to question his convictions and behave in a manner that probably seems totally irrational to him. By doing this Serling successfully tricks the audience into feeling sympathy for a character that they know—for he makes obvious within the first five or so minutes of the story—is, or once was, an appalling human being.
Nehemiah Persoff deserves a great deal of the credit for this. He portrays Lanser as a character who is mysterious and rough around the edges but gives him a quality that is immediately sympathetic. An accomplished television and film actor, Persoff had notable roles in Billy Wilder’s Some Like It Hot (1959) and George Stevens’s The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965).
           Another effective device in Serling’s script is that he tells the audience within the first few minutes of the episode that something awful is going to happen. The viewer is waiting for 1:15am throughout the entire episode. It’s a countdown to destruction. This adds an element of suspense to what would be a fairly predictable story without it.
“Judgment Night” was Serling’s hybrid variation of the myth of the Flying Dutchman, in which the ghosts of a ship's crew are doomed to roam the seas for all eternity, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, in which a fisherman kills a sacred albatross and is then damned to wear the creature around its neck as an admission of his sin. The difference here, of course, is that instead of an albatross, Lanser is doomed to continuously relive the nightmare he created for a ship full of innocent people.
The unsung hero of this episode is director John Brahm. Brahm directed 12 episodes of the show, more than any other director, and his contribution to the show is immeasurable. Not as visually daring as directors Douglas Heyes or Lamont Johnson, Brahm often took a subtle approach. His best episodes, such as season two’s “Shadowplay” or season one’s “Mirror Image,” have a dreamlike quality to them. Indeed, “Judgment Night” feels like a nightmare. Brahm uses unusual yet effective techniques such as brief flickers of total darkness whenever someone opens a door or the use of heavy fog and out of focus shots of the outside of the ship to convey Lanser’s muddled apprehension of the situation. Brahm used similar imagery in 1944 to portray the fog-blanketed streets of Victorian London in his re-make of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Lodger. The famous scene near the end of the episode, when Lanser is confronted by the ghosts of the crew and passengers, is also mostly Brahm’s doing. Instead of letting the score do the work for him, Brahm takes the music away entirely so that every noise is amplified, placing the viewer inside the ship with Lanser. The image of the dead crew staring silently into the camera is particularly unsettling.
While it may be somewhat predictable, “Judgement Night” is still a terrific episode with a great script by Serling, a wonderful performance from Nehemiah Persoff, and some of John Brahm’s best work on the show—which is saying quite a bit. This one comes recommended as one the high points of the first season.

Grade: B

Notes:
--John Brahm (1893 – 1982) directed 12 episodes of the show—more than anyone else—including the classics “Time Enough at Last,” “The Four of Us are Dying,” and “Mirror Image.”
--"Judgment Night" was adapted into a Twilight Zone Radio Drama by author Dennis Etchison starring Chelcie Ross.
-- It was also adapted into a short story by Walter B. Gibson for Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone (Grosset and Dunlap, 1963), a young adult collection that featured adaptations of several of Rod Serling's teleplays as well as original stories inspired by the series.

--Brian Durant


--Updated on October 10, 2016.