Barbara Nichols as the tormented Liz Powell |
Season Two, Episode 53
Original
Air Date: February 10, 1961
Cast:
Liz
Powell: Barbara Nichols
Doctor: Jonathan Harris
Barney: Fredd Wayne
Nurse/Stewardess: Arline Sax
Night
Duty Nurse: Norma Connolly
Day
Duty Nurse: Mary Adams
Airline
Agent: Wesley Lau
Ticket
Clerk: Angus Duncan
Crew:
Writer: Rod Serling (based on an anecdote in Famous Ghost Stories, edited by Bennett
Cerf (1944))
Director: Jack Smight
Producer: Buck Houghton
Associate
Producer: Del Reisman
Art
Direction: Craig Smith
Set
Decoration: Arthur Jeph Parker
Technical
Director: Jim Brady
Associate
Director: James Clark
Casting: Ethel Winant
Music: Stock
And Now, Mr. Serling:
“This
is room 22 and on the other side of its doors lies an adventure that is as
fascinating as it is inexplicable. It’s
a story that comes to us from Mr. Bennett Cerf, who describes it as an age-old
horror tale whose origin is unknown. We
have dressed it up in some hospital wrappings and enlisted the performance of
Miss Barbara Nichols. Next on the
Twilight Zone, ‘Twenty Two.’ Be prepared
to be spooked. It’s that kind of story.”
“This
is Miss Liz Powell. She’s a professional
dancer and she’s in the hospital as a result of overwork and nervous
fatigue. And at this moment we have just
finished walking with her in a nightmare.
In a moment she’ll wake up and we’ll remain at her side. The problem here is that both Miss Powell and
you will reach a point where it might be difficult to decide which is reality
and which is nightmare. A problem
uncommon perhaps…but rather peculiar…to the Twilight Zone.”
Summary:
It is the middle of the night. Liz Powell, a professional dancer, lies awake
in a hospital room, her nerves preventing any sort of sleep. She reaches over towards the nightstand for a
glass of water but it slips from her trembling hand, shattering on the
floor. She gets out of bed, walks down
the hallway and into the elevator. When
she reaches the basement, she steps off.
Slowly, she walks down the hallway and stops in front of a double door
marked MORGUE. Above the door is the
number 22. Suddenly, the door is thrown
open and a woman dressed in a nurse’s uniform appears and says: “Room for one
more, honey.”
Powell screams and races back down the
hallway to the elevator.
Arline Sax |
That night as she lies awake in
her bed listening to the clock tick, instead of reaching for the glass of water
she lights a cigarette but she drops her lighter on the floor. She reaches down to pick it up, bracing
herself on the nightstand and ends up knocking the glass of water to the floor
anyway. The rest of the dream plays out
the same way it has every night, with the woman in room 22 telling her that
there is “room for one more.” Back in
her room, Powell has to be sedated.
The next day Powell is being
released from the hospital. The doctor
meets her on her way out and insists once more that her experiences were simply
elaborate dreams that felt real. She
thanks him and leaves. In the airport,
Powell begins to get the same feeling that she did when she was having her
“dreams.” She learns that she is
scheduled for Flight 22. She buys her
ticket and begins to board the plane, feeling in her bones that something is
wrong. Slowly, she walks to the plane as
it is beginning to board up for takeoff.
When she gets there the stewardess greets her. It’s the same woman from her dreams. “Room for one more, honey,” she says. Powell screams and runs back inside the
airport terminal. She watches from
window as Flight 22 begins to ascend from the runway. As it takes off the plane bursts into flames.
Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:
“Miss
Elizabeth Powell, professional dancer. Hospital diagnosis: acute anxiety
brought on by overwork and fatigue.
Prognosis: with rest and care she’ll probably recover. But the cure to some nightmares is not to be
found in known medical journals. You
look for it under potions for bad dreams…to be found in the Twilight Zone.”
“Twenty Two” is an
episode which seems, according to many internet message boards and
accompanying rating systems, to have strongly resonated with Twilight Zone viewers over the years. This is likely due to both the familiarity
of the story and its inherent cleverness. "Twenty Two" is presented as based on a story from Bennett Cerf in the 1944 Random House anthology Famous Ghost Stories, which Cerf edited. Cerf concludes that volume with a miscellany titled "The Current Crop of Ghost Stories," wherein he relates a number of ghostly anecdotes which have been told to him at social gatherings. The first anecdote concerns a modern young woman from New York who visits a plantation in South Carolina. She is awakened in the night by the sounds of horses on the road beneath her bedroom window. There in the moonlight is a horse-drawn hearse. The hearse driver looks up, his hideous face lit by the moon, and says, "There is room for one more!" This happens again the following night and so disturbs the young woman that she flees the house after giving her hosts some lame excuse and makes her way back to New York. The following day she approaches an elevator only to see the densely packed crowd within. "There's room for one more," says the elevator operator. The young woman declines the offer. Shortly after the doors close the elevator cable snaps, sending the elevator crashing to the bottom of the shaft and killing everyone inside.
Though the true origin of the "room for one more" story is likely lost to time (folklorist Alvin Schwartz, who included a version of the tale in Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (1981) simply stated: "This legend has circulated for many years in the United States and the British Isles"), the most popular piece of fiction to use the construct is "The Bus-Conductor" by E.F. Benson. Bennett Cerf was likely familiar with that story, as he included Benson's "The Man Who Went Too Far" (1904) in Famous Ghost Stories. "The Bus-Conductor" was first published in the December 1906 issue of the Pall Mall Magazine and included in Benson’s The Room in the Tower and Other Stories (1912). It has since been reprinted dozens of time in numerous anthologies and studies of the supernatural story.
Though the true origin of the "room for one more" story is likely lost to time (folklorist Alvin Schwartz, who included a version of the tale in Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (1981) simply stated: "This legend has circulated for many years in the United States and the British Isles"), the most popular piece of fiction to use the construct is "The Bus-Conductor" by E.F. Benson. Bennett Cerf was likely familiar with that story, as he included Benson's "The Man Who Went Too Far" (1904) in Famous Ghost Stories. "The Bus-Conductor" was first published in the December 1906 issue of the Pall Mall Magazine and included in Benson’s The Room in the Tower and Other Stories (1912). It has since been reprinted dozens of time in numerous anthologies and studies of the supernatural story.
Benson’s story concerns
a man who, while visiting a friend in the countryside, dreams of seeing a
hearse in the street below his bedroom window. From the hearse emerges an
undertaker who makes a beckoning gesture to the man with the uninviting call of
“just room for one inside, sir.” Upon leaving the friend's home the following
day, the man attempts to board a bus on a street corner. As the doors to the
bus open, the bus conductor (who looks exactly like the undertaker from the
man's dream) says to him, “just room for one inside, sir.” The man, remembering
his encounter the night before, decides against boarding the bus and watches as
the bus crashes soon after its departure, killing all on board.
Benson’s story is a tale that has
been told and retold so often and in so many variations that it has entered the cultural consciousness as a piece of folklore rather than a story
sprung from the imagination of one writer. Another story with which it shares
this similarity is W.W. Jacobs's “The Monkey’s Paw” (1902). These two writers,
both of the Edwardian period, are similar in more than one way since both were
known in their own time for their humorous fiction and are now remembered as
authors of the some of the most startling supernatural fiction of the early
20th century. Besides "The Monkey's Paw," Jacobs wrote a handful of
ghost and horror stories, some of which, "The Toll-House" and
"The Well," still retain their power to shock and unsettle. Benson
wrote several well-regarded horror stories, including “The Room in the Tower,”
“Mrs. Amworth,” “Caterpillars,” "The Face," and “The Horror-Horn,”
among many more. His supernatural fiction comes recommended and is available in a
collected edition.
The average viewer of “Twenty Two” or “The Man in the Bottle” (The Twilight
Zone’s version of Jacobs’s “The Monkey’s Paw”) is likely unable to attribute the
source of the fiction, yet the stories are instantly familiar to almost
every adult in the English speaking world. The allure of adapting “The
Bus-Conductor” is its simplicity, as it reads like a fable and, because of this
simplicity, can be adapted to fit nearly any time period with only slight
variation. This is the quality which undoubtedly drew Rod Serling to add an
adaptation of the story to his showcase of the uncanny. The most famous adaptation
of the story outside this episode of The
Twilight Zone is a segment of the exceptional 1945 Ealing Studios
anthology film Dead of Night, a film which remains fondly remembered, primarily upon the strength of the final segment of the film, which is a
frightening tale of a malevolent ventriloquist dummy. For more on Dead of Night head over to our
discussion of the film.
"Twenty Two" is
an enjoyable, streamlined effort from Serling and company but it hardly feels
like an enduring episode for reasons other than its gimmick which, to those
well-read in supernatural literature, was overly familiar even by the time The Twilight Zone put its stamp upon it. The story, which runs seven pages in the collected edition of
Benson’s supernatural stories, hardly seems to contain enough to base a twenty
five minute episode upon (The
Dead of Night version runs a scant 12 minutes). Still, the production crew
does a relatively admirable job considering the constraints of the videotape
format and the brief material they had to work with. The pleasure of the
episode lies in the production design. The hospital, even during the daylight
hours when it should be a busy, crowded place, seems somehow vacant and unsettling,
giving the episode that indescribable Twilight
Zone feel. The production shines in the dream sequences and in the design
of the lower level of the hospital. The design is heavily industrial and quite
frightening and the effect of the endless corridor beyond the swinging doors to
the morgue was a masterstroke. The failure of the design and of the videotape
format is when the setting moves out of the hospital. Here the set is
unconvincing. Adding to the mess is the fact that the acoustics ring out
hollowly in the enclosed environment, betraying the artificiality of the set.
The casting in the
episode is fine. Though Serling’s script does not demand much of the actors, all
perform admirably. The most inspired bit
of casting is for the night nurse at the morgue in the dream
sequences. This was played by actress Arlene Martel (billed as Arlene Sax) and
her unique appearance and foreboding manner are unforgettable and lend the
episode much of its creepiness. Martel previously appeared in a far less uncanny role in the first season episode, "What You Need."
Barbara Nichols is probably best
remembered for this episode of The
Twilight Zone but is also remembered for a number of small roles, mostly on
television, essentially playing the same character, the Brooklyn-voiced blonde
bombshell. Nichols began her career on stage in the early 1950s, became a
favorite pin-up girl of the GIs, and had her best year in film in 1957 with
roles in Pal Joey, Sweet Smell of
Success, and The Pajama Game. She
landed a regular role in the situation comedy Love That Jill the following year but the show lasted only 13
episodes. In the late 1950s and into the 1960s she found herself taking guest
roles on television and in C-grade movies. Her last crowning achievement was on
Broadway in Let it Ride in 1961.
Complications from two car accidents resulted in liver disease and she passed
away on October 5, 1976 at the young age of 47.
Jonathan Harris is
deservedly famous for his role as Dr. Zachary Smith on Irwin Allen’s Lost in Space (1965-1968) but managed to
amass dozens of credits, mostly in television, from the early 1950s until the
early 2000s just before his death in 2002. He has several genre credits
including episodes of Lights Out, Land of the Giants, Bewitched, Rod Serling’s Night
Gallery, Space Academy, and Battlestar Galactica. Beginning in the
1980s, Harris became an accomplished voice actor working prolifically in
children’s programming. He also featured in the second
season episode of The Twilight Zone,
“The Silence.”
Fredd Wayne was also a
fixture on television going back to the early 1950s. He featured in the third
season episode of The Twilight Zone
“The Arrival” and has genre credits in episodes of Alcoa Presents: One Step Beyond, Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color, and Wonder Woman, but his forte was certainly in comedy and light
drama. He is probably best remembered for his turns as Benjamin Franklin on
talk shows and in his one man show Benjamin
Franklin, Citizen. Wayne, no longer active in the entertainment industry,
was born on October 17, 1924.
"Twenty Two" is a slight, if memorable, accomplishment for the
show and, like most of the videotaped episodes, suffers somewhat from the
formatting. It is a simple, derivative episode which sticks in the mind of the
viewer and has a suitably creepy atmosphere enhanced by memorable production
design. If anything, "Twenty Two" signaled the near-end of the
disastrous cost cutting measure that was the use of videotape on the series.
Grade: C
Notes:
--
Jonathan Harris also appeared in the later Season Two episode, "The
Silence." He also appeared in an episode of Rod Serling's Night Gallery
titled "Since Aunt Ada Came to Stay."
--
Fredd Wayne also appeared in the later Season Two episode, "The
Arrival."
--Arline
Sax also appeared in the Season One episode "What You Need."
--
"Twenty Two" was adapted into a Twilight Zone Radio Drama starring
Andrea Evans.
--
Jordan Prejean and Brian Durant
Nice review! So glad you're back. This is one of these episodes with a deathless catch phrase that pops out of my mouth every so often.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jack, good to be back. Sorry about the time lapse. Yeah, this is a nice spooky episode that really seems to stay with the viewer. The exploding plane effect at the end is clunky but overall it's a good one. Rewatching these videotaped episodes I realized that, with the obvious exception of "The Whole Truth," they aren't that bad at all. We have "Static" and "Long Distance Call" coming up and I enjoy both of those episodes. Would love to have seen George Clemens' photography for these episodes but I'm glad at least they realized that videotape was a bad idea and cut it out. Thanks for reading!
ReplyDeleteThe Season 2 episode of "Twenty-Two" is one of the most frightening episodes of the series next to Mirror Image. The protagonist, Liz Powell (Barbara Nichols) dreams the same nightmare every night beginning with her reaching for a glass of water (now plastic for safety reasons now-a-days), beginning the nightly course of dream sequences of hearing footsteps near the door, then following the steps to the elevator (doors closing) and riding the lift down to the basement and ultimately the Morgue. Liz Powel stands there only to see the ghoulish nurse pop out and say the line "Room for one more Honey". The glaring eyes on that nurse is bone-chilling and we all have had similar dreams of people chasing us and are feet are stuck in quick sand!). The doctor, rightfully suggests, recommends breaking the sequence of events such as not reaching for the glass the next time. However; by reaching for a cigarette/lighter, she knocks off the glass from the nightstand never-the-less and repeats the cycle. Wouldn't reason stand that knowing not to follow the footsteps would avoid room 22? . Jonathan Harris is brilliant in the role of the doctor. The doctor's snide and sexist comments to Liz and his delivery similar to his role as Zachary Smith in "Lost in Space" is discomforting especially if I were a patient! . The doctor's character is just as creepy in and of itself. The final scene at the airport and the same evil nurse now the Flight Attendant with the same line is a show stopper and again the twist ending as TZ is know for in most episodes. I guess it is up to the viewer to determine if the plane sequence at the end of the show is another nightmare with Liz still in her bed?
ReplyDeleteThere isn't anything the least bit wrong about doing a new version of older material. (How many versions of "Robin Hood" and "The Three Musketeers" have there been?). I will say that I think that the version of this story in "Dead of Night" is better, only because it's shorter and tauter -- this material simply can't sustain more than a sketch's length. (In "Dead of Night" we only saw the foreboding dream once, which is all we needed). But the other time "The Twilight Zone" borrowed from "Dead of Night" -- the ventriloquist episode with Cliff Robertson -- it REALLY hit one out of the park. Both versions had a great actor at their center (Michael Redgrave in the original), and both men were frighteningly believable as good, decent men being driven to madness by a hideously malevolent force that they could neither escape nor control. Maybe "Twenty-two" should be regarded as a first draft of the later, and far superior, episode.
ReplyDeleteTwenty Two can be considered a viable companion piece to the previous TZ chiller "Perchance To Dream". AGAIN, we are dealing with the participation within a terrifying nightmare and the antagonist, again, is a female Grim Reaper. What stunts it in juxtaposition with " Perchance " is #1, the stigma of its' recruitment to videotape. #2, if Serling had waited, but as the ketchup says "Heinzsight is only 20/20", for the fourth season, more detail and enhancements could have, with the blessings of more running time, made " Twenty Two" a masterpiece. The use of the elevator to the basement floor was too ephemeral; I would have found taking the darkened fire exit creepier. Then, when the footsteps stopped outside Liz's door, if the door was open and suddenly the stalker appeared like in the Hitch-Hiker at least once, to startle both Liz, and us. Then, to justify the doctor's curiosity, if he'd been down at the basement floor, and heard a familiarizing scream, yet missing out on the source. Still, "Twenty Two', if only fair compared to " PTD", IS all things considered, a satisfying excuse to sit up to watch with a Fluffernutter and a glass of milk on a cold night.
ReplyDeleteTwenty Two can be considered a viable companion piece to the previous TZ chiller "Perchance To Dream". AGAIN, we are dealing with the participation within a terrifying nightmare and the antagonist, again, is a female Grim Reaper. What stunts it in juxtaposition with " Perchance " is #1, the stigma of its' recruitment to videotape. #2, if Serling had waited, but as the ketchup says "Heinzsight is only 20/20", for the fourth season, more detail and enhancements could have, with the blessings of more running time, made " Twenty Two" a masterpiece. The use of the elevator to the basement floor was too ephemeral; I would have found taking the darkened fire exit creepier. Then, when the footsteps stopped outside Liz's door, if the door was open and suddenly the stalker appeared like in the Hitch-Hiker at least once, to startle both Liz, and us. Then, to justify the doctor's curiosity, if he'd been down at the basement floor, and heard a familiarizing scream, yet missing out on the source. Still, "Twenty Two', if only fair compared to " PTD", IS all things considered, a satisfying excuse to sit up to watch with a Fluffernutter and a glass of milk on a cold night.
ReplyDelete'22' has become my favorite of the original Twilight Zone episodes. Arlene Martel's chilling performance as the beautiful, but sinister morgue nurse, and her line "Room for one more, honey!" uttered with that evil grin, is unforgettable.
ReplyDeleteBarbara Nichols, as the nightclub dancer hospitalized for exhaustion, but tortured in her sleep by a recurring nightmare, manages the most bloodcurdling screams. And just having the creepy, patronizing Jonathan Harris as my doctor would give me nightmares!
Then the final scene - no longer a dream - where the nightmare seems to be playing out in real life. Barbara attempts to board a plane to Miami only to be welcomed by Arlene, now the stewardess, again with that same greeting "room for one more, Honey!". In her hysteria, Barbara can't get away from that plane fast enough.
On another site, I read that the moment where she stumbles on her way back to the terminal and falls to the tarmac was unscripted, but it worked so well the director decided to keep it.
Some don't like the taped episodes. But I find these early videotapes fascinating. While the tapes may have deteriorated, and the lighting may look a bit strange today, the video still provides a fluidity of motion that looks like a live broadcast. As for the special effects, given the low budget, they're fine, with only the moment of the explosion giving away that it's really a model.
No mention of Arlene Martel/Sax as Spock's betrothed T'Pring in the Star Trek episode "Amok Time"?
ReplyDeleteI might also add that Jonathan Harris' voice was rather sexy when he wasn't Smithing it up.
ReplyDelete