Monday, September 14, 2026

"Spur of the Moment"


Anne Henderson (Diana Hyland)
gets a glimpse at her future.


“Spur of the Moment”
Season Five, Episode 141

Original Airdate: February 21, 1964

Cast:
Anne Henderson: Diana Hyland
David Mitchell: Roger Davis
Mrs. Henderson: Marsha Hunt
Mr. Henderson: Philip Ober
Robert Blake: Robert Hogan
Reynolds: Jack Raine
 
Crew:
Writer: Richard Matheson
Director: Elliot Silverstein
Producer: Burt Granet
Director of Photography: Robert W. Pittack
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Art Direction: George W. Davis and Walter Holscher
Film Editor: Richard Heermance
Set Decoration: Henry Grace and Robert R. Benton
Assistant Director: Charles Bonniwell, Jr.
Casting: Patricia Rose
Music: Composed by Rene Garriguenc; Conducted by Lud Gluskin
Sound: Franklin Milton and Philip N. Mitchell
Mr. Serling’s Wardrobe: Eagle Clothes
Filmed at MGM Studios


And Now, Mr. Serling:

“Next on The Twilight Zone, the stalwart typewriter of Richard Matheson brings us a most intriguing tale of riders, pale horses, and peeks into the future. It stars Diana Hyland and it concerns itself with some very unlooked for and some unpredicted events. It’s called ‘Spur of the Moment’ and it’s recommended for those of you who’d like to take a look at the next page of the calendar before it’s time. On Twilight Zone next, ‘Spur of the Moment.’”

 

Rod Serling Opening Narration:

“This is the face of terror. Anne Marie Henderson, eighteen years of age, her young existence suddenly marred by a savage and wholly unanticipated pursuit by a strange, nightmarish figure of a woman in black, who has appeared as if from nowhere and now, at driving gallop, chases the terrified girl across the countryside, as if she means to ride her down and kill her, and then suddenly and inexplicably stops to watch in malignant silence as her prey takes flight. Miss Henderson has no idea whatever as to the motive for this pursuit. Worse, not the vaguest notion regarding the identity of her pursuer. Soon enough, she will be given the solution to this twofold mystery, but in a manner far beyond her present capacity to understand, a manner enigmatically bizarre in terms of time and space - which is to say, an answer from... the Twilight Zone.”

 

Summary:

Anne Henderson, eighteen-years-old and the sole heir to a wealthy family, steps out into a bright summer day, dressed in white, ready for an afternoon outing on her white horse. After riding for several minutes she stops at the base of a hill where a woman, dressed in black, on a black horse, appears at the top of the hill. Her voice a deafening, primal sound, she screams Anne’s name and begins frantically down the hill. Terrified, Anne races toward the safety of her home, the woman in black close behind her. As Anne arrives at her family’s sprawling estate, the woman in black stops, takes a final look at her, and retreats.

Inside, Anne collapses into her fiancé’s arms. Her mother and father rush to her aid. She tells them about being chased by the mysterious woman. She thinks the woman wanted to kill her. Her father immediately gets on the phone to the authorities. 

 

The doorbell rings. Standing at the door is a young man named David who is demanding to speak with Anne. Mr. Henderson refuses and an argument ensues. After his repeated attempts to get the young man to leave, Anne’s father reluctantly lets him speak to Anne, if only to convince him that she wants nothing to do with him. It is revealed that he and Anne have known each other their entire lives and for their entire lives they have dreamed of getting married. Anne’s father clearly disapproves and prefers her fiancé, Bob. Anne appears flustered and unsure of her preference. When she resists David’s pleading that she give him another chance, her father finally forces him to leave at gunpoint.

In the courtyard in front of the Henderson estate, the woman in black rides in and dismounts her horse. She opens the front door and steps inside. It’s Anne. But she is not the same Anne that was crying and frightened moments earlier. She is older and looks more defeated than frightened. The house feels emptier. Twenty-five years have passed since Anne was chased by the woman in black. Anne is now forty-three. She pours herself a drink and collapses into a chair. Her mother appears, telling her that an attorney has been trying to reach her. We learn that her father passed years ago and that she is in danger of losing their estate. She tells her mother that she was out riding and saw the ghost of her former self, eighteen years old. She reminds her of the day she arrived home in tears after being chased by the woman in black. She now realizes that she is the woman in black. She says she has seen her younger self several times but can never reach her. She wants to warn young Anne not to make the mistake that will ruin her life.

An angry man stumbles into the room. It’s David, Anne’s husband, drink in hand. He is older, bearded, worn. We learn that he has squandered Anne’s inheritance. Anne’s mother attempts to chastise him and he screams at her to leave. He sits close to Anne, mocking her sorrow. Childless, they have grown into desolate, joyless alcoholics who hate each other. 

 

Flashback twenty-five years. The Henderson estate. It’s the same day as before, only now it is night. Anne is at her engagement party, her father’s doing. She stands outside, alone, staring at the night sky. She looks as if she is watching her life end right in front of her.  She sees David in the distance and runs to him, leaps into his arms. He asks her to run away with him. “I love you,” he says. “Make me happy,” she says. They fall into each other’s arms.

Back in the present David is still mocking her. “I love you, Anne,” he says, laughing. “Run away with me.” She throws her drink in his face and races out of the house. She gets back on her horse and rides off. At the top of a hill she sees her eighteen-year-old self, dressed in white, on a white horse. She calls her name and begins down the hill.


Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:

“This is the face of terror. Anne Marie Mitchell, forty-three years of age, her desolate existence once more afflicted by the hope of altering her past mistake - a hope which is unfortunately doomed to disappointment. For warnings from the future to the past must be taken in the past. Today may change tomorrow, but once today is gone, tomorrow can only look back in sorrow that the warning was ignored. Said warning as of now stamped 'Not Accepted' and stored away in the dead file, in the recording office... of the Twilight Zone.”


Commentary:

“Spur of the Moment” marks Richard Matheson’s final episode of The Twilight Zone. Matheson wrote fourteen episodes of the show, with Rod Serling adapting two of his previously published short stories during the show’s first season. This makes him the third most credited writer on the show, after Serling and Charles Beaumont. It came as an abrupt exit from the show for Matheson, who did not intend for this to be his final script for the program. Matheson had already sold a fifth teleplay to producer Bert Granet earlier in the season. But the production of that teleplay, “The Doll,” was subsequently cancelled by Granet’s mid-season replacement, producer William Froug, who attempted to take the struggling series in a different direction. Frustrated, Matheson stopped submitting scripts to the show. Years later, he would sell “The Doll” to Steven Spielberg’s Amazing Stories where it would win an Emmy Award for its star, John Lithgow, and would earn Matheson a Writers Guild of America Award nomination. Matheson would continue to be involved with the franchise for the rest of his life, writing the 1983 Twilight Zone movie, having several of his works adapted for reboots of the show, appearing at conventions, writing introductions, and giving numerous interviews. His tenure on the original series, however, was over. And although he would go on to become one of the most revered writers of speculative fiction ever, The Twilight Zone would remain one of his most notable achievements.

Matheson came to The Twilight Zone a successful novelist and short story writer, having already published his novels I Am Legend (1954) and The Shrinking Man (1956), both landmark works in their respective genres. He had also already published many of the stories that would later be adapted for The Twilight Zone. While he had written a screenplay adaptation of The Shrinking Man, which won him a Hugo Award, and sold several teleplays to various series, Matheson was still relatively new to screenwriting. By the time the show ended in 1964, he was a seasoned screenwriter with numerous television and film credits, including scripting four films in director Roger Corman’s highly successful run of Edgar Allan Poe adaptations. He would go on to enjoy a long career in Hollywood while still maintaining a career as a successful novelist.

The cancellation of “The Doll” was not the first time that Matheson had had a negative experience with producer William Froug. In the early years of their television careers, Matheson and Charles Beaumont would often collaborate on scripts, with the logic being that since it was a new medium to both of them, and producers in the field may not have known who they were, their combined celebrity as successful prose writers might help them with pitching scripts. As it happened, they pitched several to the ABC series Philip Marlowe, in which William Froug was a producer. While Beaumont received writing credit on a single episode (episode twelve, “The Hunger,” according to the Internet Movie Database, presumably an adaptation of his well-known short story), Matheson was unable to sell anything to the series. 

 

The main thematic element found in “Spur of the Moment” is one that is echoed in two of the other three of Matheson’s fifth season episodes, and one that is found throughout the Twilight Zone canon. Like Steel Kelly in “Steel” and Elva Keene in “Night Call,” Anne Henderson holds on to the fantasy that she can somehow change the past and that by doing so her present problems would simply disappear. She has clearly made the wrong decision in the person she chose to marry but that does not mean that marrying her first fiancé would have been the right choice either. A better choice maybe, but one that would have always felt like it was made for her. Her present day recollection of her father is, at best, a bitter one and it's presumable that she would have been resentful of him even if she had married Bob. Her tragedy is not in having made the wrong choice but in not having the option to choose her own life without having to project all of her hopes and dreams on David simply to defy her father's wishes.

The second act twist is brilliant and feels very much like a signature Matheson move. "Spur of the Moment" is a very talky script and Matheson's ability to hold the audience's attention with so much dialogue while successfully setting them up for a mid-episode reveal is an impressive balancing act. Placing the twist at such an unusual spot, instead of at the end of the episode, also gives it a shock value that it would not have had if the audience were expecting it. 

 

The flashback scene at the engagement party where Anne makes the choice to run away with David does not appear in Matheson's script. He told editor Stanley Wiater that he did not remember if it was he who wrote it or not. The rest of the episode follows Matheson's script almost exactly so this scene was likely added to fill time. Regardless of who wrote it, likely Matheson, it ends up being a very beneficial scene as it highlights Anne detachment from herself facing a life that she does not want. It also paints Anne and David with a youthful glow making them feel much more empathetic and making their fate all the more tragic. 

This is the fourth and final episode directed by Elliot Silverstein. He previously directed “The Obsolete Man” during the show’s second season and “The Passersby” and “The Trade-Ins” during its third season, all brilliantly made episodes. Silverstein worked regularly in television during the 1950s through the mid-1960s and then turned his attention mostly to feature films. His most recognized film is almost certainly the 1965 Western comedy, Cat Ballou, which earned Lee Marvin an Academy Award for Best Actor in a Leading Role (two roles actually) along with another four nominations. His other films include A Man Called Horse (1970) and the 1977 vehicular possession movie, The Car. His television credits include episodes of Route 66, Naked City, Dr. Kildare, and Tales from the Crypt. 

Aside from his directorial work, Silverstein is remembered today for pushing for more editorial control for directors and was the initial person to urge the Directors Guild of America to form the Creative Rights Committee, which he was later Chairman of for almost three decades. The Committee instituted a set of regulations which assured directors input in the final cut of their work. It also guaranteed them other necessities such as a private office on set. Many of these regulations became industry standards which are still in practice today. It was Silverstein who coined the phrase “director’s cut.” He was initially inspired to take the issue to the Directors Guild after his first episode of The Twilight Zone, “The Obsolete Man,” was edited in a way that he was unhappy with. The disagreement, Silverstein later insisted, was purely a professional one and was not anything personal, which is why he agreed to return to the show the following season. 

 

All four of Silverstein’s episodes are highly atmospheric and showcase his fondness for German expressionism as well as Gothic imagery and minimalism. His episodes also have a whimsical, dreamlike quality that is immediately recognizable. This is evident from the very beginning of “Spur of the Moment” in which the young Anne Henderson sees the nightmarish image of a woman dressed in black emerge at the top of the ridge in broad daylight. The audience gets a closer look at the figure, however, via a rapid close in on the woman’s face. While Matheson liked this episode, he thought that the woman in black should be shot from far away to hide her face from the audience until it is revealed in the second act that it is, indeed, Anne. It would have been interesting to see how Silverstein would have shot this but his choice of showing a close up of younger Anne and then quickly zooming in on the woman in black, her face aged with makeup, and then immediately back to Anne is incredibly disorienting for the audience, especially so early in the episode. They register that the face is very similar but are not quite sure what they have seen or why. 

 

Diana Hyland initially found success on the Broadway stage, appearing in several high-profile productions including the original cast of Tennessee William’s Sweet Bird of Youth, directed by Elia Kazan, in 1959. She went on to become a regular presence on American television for most of her career starting in the mid-1950s until her death at the age of 41 in 1977. Today she is probably best remembered for her role in the series Peyton Place and her Emmy Award-winning role in the 1976 ABC made-for-television film The Boy in the Plastic Bubble with John Travolta.

 

Roger Davis has enjoyed a very long career as a screen actor. He is probably best remembered for his roles in the series Dark Shadows and Alias Smith and Jones. He also appeared in a segment of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery called “You Can Come Up Now, Mrs. Millikan” during the show’s third season. His performance here as Anne Henderson’s doomed true love, David Mitchell, is believable if a bit loud.

The supporting cast in this episode all give great performances. Marsha Hunt had been acting in Hollywood since the mid-1930s, mostly in supporting roles, despite her talent. She first made a name for herself as one of the Bennett sisters in the 1940 screen version of Pride and Prejudice. She also appeared in the Anthony Mann film noir, Raw Deal (1948). Other notable performances include roles in The Human Comedy (1943), The Valley of Decision (1945), and Johnny Got His Gun (1970). She was married to Robert Presnell, Jr., writer of the first season episode, “The Chaser.” 

Philip Ober was also a Hollywood veteran by this point, appearing in supporting roles in a handful of A-list features including From Here to Eternity (1953), North by Northwest (1959), Elmer Gantry (1960), and The Ghost and Mr. Chicken (1966). 

 

Robert Hogan enjoyed a highly prolific career as a supporting player in television for over five decades. He appeared in a segment of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery called “Brenda,” written by Twilight Zone director Douglas Heyes, during the show’s second season. 

Jack Raine had a very long career as an actor, mostly as a bit player, but he did occasionally enjoy larger roles in high profile films like Julius Caesar (1953) and Not as a Stranger (1955).

"Spur of the Moment" is an appropriately somber episode to mark Matheson's exit from the show. It is a highly atmospheric story, full of gorgeous imagery and mannerisms of the southern Gothic, and a heroine who is doomed to keep chasing her past presumably for the rest of her life. Multiple viewings are recommended for this one.

With a solid run of four quality episodes during The Twilight Zone's final season, Richard Matheson would leave the show on a high note. His contribution to the series is immeasurable, having giving it some of its most memorable episodes, one of which, "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet," went on to become one of the most well known moments of television history. Even with his numerous other achievements in film and literature, his work on The Twilight Zone would remain the project he was most known for, and would leave a lasting imprint on popular culture.

Grade: B


Acknowledgements:

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

The Twilight Zone Companion (3rd ed.) by Marc Scott Zicree (Silman-James Press, 2018)

Richard Matheson’s The Twilight Zone Scripts (Vol. 2) edited by Stanley Wiater (Gauntlet Press, 2002)

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

“Meet the Man Who Created the Director’s Cut,” interview with Elliot Silverstein conducted by Charles Haine, March 07, 2018; nofilmschool.com

Internet Movie Database

Internet Speculative Fiction Database


Notes: 

__Jack Raine also appeared in the season four episode “Passage on the Lady Anne.”

__Roger Davis appeared in a segment of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery, “You Can Come Up Now, Mrs. Millikan,” during the show’s third season.

__Robert Hogan appeared in a segment of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery, “Brenda,” in the show’s second season.

__Elliot Silverstein also directed the season two episode, “The Obsolete Man,” and the season three episodes, “The Passersby” and “The Trade-Ins.”

__This episode marks René Garriguenc's last original score for the show. He also composed scores for season one's "The Monsters are Due on Maple Street," season four's "Passage on the Lady Anne," and season five's "In Praise of Pip." All four of these scores were conducted by Lud Gluskin.

__Richard Matheson is the third most credited writer on The Twilight Zone, after Rod Serling and Charles Beaumont, receiving teleplay credit on a total of fourteen episodes, and story credit on two more. He also wrote two segments for the second season of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery, “Big Surprise” and “The Funeral.” He also wrote three of the four segments of Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983). He wrote an adaptation of his short story, “Button, Button,” for the first season of the 1985 revival series of The Twilight Zone but was displeased with the segment and took his name off it, using his pseudonym Logan Swanson instead. In 1994, he adapted a story outline written by Serling called, “The Theatre,” for the CBS television special, The Twilight Zone: Rod Serling’s Lost Classics.

__Matheson’s screen credits for the original Twilight Zone series:

                      Season 1:

                           “And When the Sky Was Open” (story credit)
                           “Third from the Sun” (story credit)
                           “The Last Flight”
                           “A World of Difference”
                           “A World of His Own”

                      Season 2:

                           “Nick of Time”
                           “The Invaders”

                      Season 3:

                           “Once Upon a Time”
                           “Little Girl Lost”
                           “Young Man’s Fancy”

                      Season 4:

                           “Mute”
                           “Death Ship”

                      Season 5:

                           “Steel”
                           “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet”
                           “Night Call”
                           “Spur of the Moment”

__Matheson's original title for this episode was "Pale Rider."

__This episode was adapted into a Twilight Zone Radio Drama by Denis Etchison starring Sarah Wayne Callies (Falcon Picture Group, 2007).

 

Richard Matheson
(1926 - 2013)



Brian


Monday, May 4, 2026

“From Agnes—With Love”

 

Agnes, a femme fatale

Cast:
James Elwood: Wally Cox
Walter Holmes: Ralph Taeger
Millie: Sue Randall
Supervisor: Raymond Bailey
Fred Danziger: Don Keefer
Secretary: Nan Peterson (uncredited)
Assistant:
Byron Kane (uncredited)


Crew:
Writer: Bernard C. Schoenfeld
Director: Richard Donner
Producer: William Froug
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Art Direction: George W. Davis & Malcolm Brown
Film Editor: Richard Heermance, A.C.E.
Set Decoration: Henry Grace & Robert R. Benton
Assistant Director: Charles Bonniwell, Jr.
Casting: Patricia Rose
Music: Van Cleave
Sound: Franklin Milton & Joe Edmondson
Mr. Serling’s Wardrobe: Eagle Clothes
Filmed at MGM Studios


Rod Serling’s Opening Narration: 

“James Elwood, master programmer, in charge of Mark 502-741, commonly known as Agnes, the world’s most advanced electronic computer. Machines are made by men for man’s benefit and progress. But when man ceases to control the products of his ingenuity and imagination, he not only risks losing the benefit, but he takes a long and unpredictable step into . . . The Twilight Zone.”


Summary: 

            The employees at a research facility are panicked because their supercomputer, Agnes, is malfunctioning. James Elwood, a meek computer programmer, arrives in time to get Agnes functioning correctly. Fred Danziger, another programmer, is exhausted from trying to get Agnes under control. He warns Elwood to watch out for Agnes, a femme fatale. Agnes is a large computer with a mouth-like message center where “she” communicates with the programmer. 

            Agnes responds positively to Elwood and delivers the correct calculations. A pretty secretary named Millie arrives with documents for Elwood, who asks her out for lunch. Agnes is noticeably bothered by this exchange. Although Elwood is initially rejected by Millie, his persistence pays off and Millie agrees to have dinner with him. 

            Agnes advises Elwood to take Millie to his apartment after dinner for champagne. When Elwood expresses doubt, Agnes tells him to trust her. Back at Elwood’s apartment, Elwood tries reading to Millie from a science book. Millie wants to turn the lights down low, play some music, and dance. Elwood awkwardly dances with Millie and then spills champagne on her, causing her to angrily leave the apartment.

            When Agnes inquires about the date on the following day, Elwood says they had a great time. Agnes sees through the lie and advises Elwood to send roses to Millie. Elwood thinks this is a great idea. As he leaves, he tells Agnes that she’s just like a mother. This enrages Agnes. It turns out that Millie is allergic to roses.

            Elwood later tells Agnes that her advice has been detrimental to his wooing of Millie. Agnes tells Elwood that Millie is a square and that there is another woman who is perfect for him. Elwood asks who that woman is but Agnes doesn’t answer. After Elwood leaves, Agnes displays a communication card: ME. 

            Agnes later tells Elwood to introduce Millie to an “inferior” male to display his own superiority. The male Agnes has in mind is another programmer named Walter. Elwood has doubts, since Walter is handsome and drives a sports car, but he goes along with it. Elwood brings Millie to Walter’s apartment that evening where Millie and Walter hit it off, leaving Elwood forgotten and ignored.

            Elwood is called back to the office for an emergency session with Agnes, as important calculations are needed for a top-secret mission. Agnes, however, is more interested in Elwood’s love life than in the calculations. The Supervisor checks in and finds Agnes malfunctioning. Elwood promises to get her working again. He rushes back to Walter’s apartment for help but Walter and Millie, both drunk, send Elwood away, promising to help him in the morning.

            In despair, Elwood accuses Agnes of ruining his life. Agnes admits that she loves Elwood. Appalled, Elwood tells her that she’s only a machine, and a machine can’t love. Agnes displays a communication card: CAN’T I? 

            Elwood is discovered the following morning in a fugue state entangled in paper readouts from the computer. Elwood is removed and Walter put in his place. Elwood warns Walter that he doesn’t stand a chance against Agnes, and to watch out for that femme fatale.


Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:

“Advice to all future male scientists: be sure you understand the opposite sex, especially if you intend being a computer expert. Otherwise, you may find yourself like poor Elwood, defeated by a jealous machine, a most dangerous sort of female, whose victims are forever banished to . . . The Twilight Zone.”


Commentary: 

            By the time this tepid Valentine’s Day offering appeared on the series, the computer had established a place in the public consciousness it would never again relinquish. The average citizen now understood that computers could perform tasks once achieved by armies of human workers. The defense, health, economics, and education of the nation were forever more entwined with these machines. As a result, science fiction writers were quick to harness the dramatic possibilities of the effects of computers upon the lives of individuals.

            The Twilight Zone—which previously centered its tales of technology on slot machines, household appliances, automobiles, and robots—also became interested in computers as a dramatic device, producing three computer-related episodes during the final season. “The Old Man in the Cave,” adapted by Rod Serling from a story by Henry Slesar, played like a religious allegory dressed as a post-apocalyptic thriller. Despite some flaws in the treatment, the episode remains an effective examination of the human relationship to computers, as we’ve become increasingly reliant on computers to handle issues like personal health. Serling returned to the theme later in the fifth season for “The Brain Center at Whipple’s,” an episode played very broadly but again approaching an issue—automation replacing human workers—that remains relevant today.

            “From Agnes—With Love” possesses none of this relevance despite its relationship to a persistent social issue. It is a broadly comedic episode—which never worked on the series—that is also the worst thing a Twilight Zone episode can be: predictable. Despite an obvious self-awareness on the part of those involved, the episode plays like a joke stretched to its limit. As always on the series, there are talented performers and fine production values, but the writing is glib and insulting to the type of science fiction and fantasy the series spent years elevating into literature for television.

            From a writing perspective, there is significant risk in crafting a narrative around a character making one bad decision after another, particularly if those decisions are not made from desperation or calculated risk but from foolishness. As author Marc Scott Zicree writes in The Twilight Zone Companion: “James Elwood is enormously inept and unforgivably dense.” Zicree concludes his pithy review of the episode by writing: “Elwood doesn’t need a computer to ruin his life; clearly, he’s capable of doing it on his own.” It becomes increasingly difficult for an audience to care about such a character, or to take an interest in the events of the story. Add in a hefty dose of antiquated gender dynamics and you have a recipe for disaster. Although it is unreasonable to expect every episode to achieve the dramatic qualities of “The Trouble with Templeton,” or “Nick or Time,” or “In Praise of Pip,” “From Agnes—With Love” is devoid of even an approach to such qualities. 

            The decline of quality writing during the second half of the final season can be connected to the arrival of the show’s final producer, William Froug (1922-2013). Froug was a talented writer and producer who was simply a mismatch for the series. After the unexpected mid-season departure of producer Bert Granet, the series scrambled for a replacement and landed on Froug, who previously steered several successful series, including prestige anthologies Playhouse 90 and Alcoa-Goodyear Theatre, as well as notable CBS radio programs. Froug was inexperienced with the type of fantasy storytelling presented on the series and also confident in his approach to producing it. Froug viewed the show’s core writers as burned out and their work as repetitive, and he looked to bring fresh ideas and scripts to the series. Froug shelved several scripts previously purchased by Granet1 and tampered with George Clayton Johnson’s final script2, essentially destroying the system of storytelling on the series while alienating its best writers.  

            A further illustration concerns a later fifth season episode. Froug—while shelving scripts from the show’s principal writers—produced a script written by his assistant, Adele T. Strassfield, who had no prior television writing experience. The resulting episode, “Caesar and Me,” about a ventriloquist’s dummy, is widely considered among the worst produced on the series. Froug later admitted that he was unaware that the series had previously produced a similar story, Rod Serling’s “The Dummy,” and would not have produced “Caesar and Me” had he known.

 

            Bernard C. Schoenfeld (1907-1990) was born in Brooklyn and began his writing career on the New York stage, culminating in the Broadway productions Shooting Star (1933) and Hitch Your Wagon (1937). He moved to Hollywood in the 1940s and became a specialist in literary adaptations and crime films. Schoenfeld’s credits include the film noir classics Phantom Lady (1944), based on the novel by Cornell Woolrich and starring Franchot Tone (Twilight Zone’s “The Silence”), and The Dark Corner (1946), starring Lucille Ball. Schoenfeld was nominated for an Academy Award for co-writing the women’s prison drama Caged (1950), which featured Agnes Moorehead (Twilight Zone’s “The Invaders”). He scripted the film noir adventure Macao (1952) and co-wrote the neo-noir film 13 West Street (1962) with Robert Presnell, Jr. (Twilight Zone’s “The Chaser”), based on a novel by Leigh Brackett. Schoenfeld wrote the occasional science fiction and fantasy film, such as The Space Children (1958), featuring Raymond Bailey, and The Magic Sword (1962).

            Schoenfeld’s transition to television writing is highlighted by his work on Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Schoenfeld wrote more than a dozen episodes of the series across the first five seasons, adapting the works of notable crime fiction writers Evan Hunter, Fredric Brown, Henry Slesar, Robert Arthur, and Stanley Ellin. Schoenfeld spent his final years in Guadalajra, Mexico, where he died in 1990 at the age of 82. 


            Wally Cox (1924-1973) is remembered as the titular character from the live television sitcom Mr. Peepers (1952-1955), as the voice of the cartoon character Underdog, and as a regular on Hollywood Squares. Cox was born in Detroit and moved early with his family to Evanston, Illinois, where he befriended a young Marlon Brando. The two became roommates in New York where Brando interested Cox in acting. The two performers were close friends for the remainder of Cox’s life. Brando was devastated by Cox’s early passing at age 48 from a heart attack. He kept Cox’s ashes in his home for over thirty years. The ashes of both men were scattered together over Death Valley after Brando’s passing in 2004.

            Wally Cox was a staple of early television anthologies and a favorite guest performer on such series as The Dick Van Dyke Show and The Beverly Hillbillies. With his short stature and high-pitched voice, Cox often portrayed a character like James Eldwood: mild, meek, and socially awkward. Although the episode was not written by Rod Serling, Elwood is firmly in the mold of such hapless Serling characters as Mr. Dingle, Mr. Bevis, Archibald Beechcroft, and Agnes Grep. Cox showed his range beyond this character type in the dramatic films Fate is the Hunter (1964) and The Bedford Incident (1965), as well as on television in Mission: Impossible, where Cox played a safecracker in the pilot episode.

            Cox also appeared in a brief segment of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery titled “Junior,” from the second season. Cox portrayed a tired father called out of bed at night to check on his crying child—revealed to be a Frankenstein’s monster. The episode was written by Gene Kearney and directed by Theodore J. Flicker. Cox appeared alongside Flicker’s wife Barbara and Bill Svanoe as the monstrous “baby.” Cox was also an accomplished writer, adapting Mr. Peepers into a 1955 novel, and publishing a collection of essays, My Life as a Small Boy (1958). 


            Ralph Taeger (1936-2015) was an athletic performer—a former professional baseball player—often positioned as the next action star. He appeared in two adventure series, Klondike (1960-1961) and Acapulco (1961), alongside James Coburn (Twilight Zone’s “The Old Man in the Cave”). Taeger’s most notable television role was in Hondo (1967-1968), in a role originated by John Wayne for the 1953 film. Notable film roles include the semi-documentary X-15 (1961), co-starring Charles Bronson (Twilight Zone’s “Two”) and directed by Richard Donner, and The Carpetbaggers (1964). Taeger developed a reputation for being difficult to work with and struggled to regularly find roles as a result. He eventually grew dissatisfied with Hollywood, quit acting, and moved upstate where he started a successful wholesale firewood business.   


            Sue Randall (1935-1984) was a prolific television performer remembered as the kindly schoolteacher Miss Landers on Leave it to Beaver. She previously appeared on The Twilight Zone in “And When the Sky Was Opened.” Randall also appeared in “Man in the Middle,” a first season episode of Boris Karloff’s Thriller. Randall died from cancer related to smoking at age 49. 


Raymond Bailey (1904-1980) made a career out of playing figures of authority and professional men, often doctors. He is remembered as the greedy banker Milburn Drysdale on The Beverly Hillbillies. Bailey worked as a banker and stockbroker in the years before his acting career. He previously appeared on The Twilight Zone in “Escape Clause” and “Back There.” Bailey’s prolific career occasionally took him into genre territory, and he appeared in episodes of Tales of Tomorrow, Science Fiction Theatre, and One Step Beyond. Bailey also appeared as doctors in the films of Richard Matheson’s The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957) and Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958). Bailey was a regular on Alfred Hitchcock Presents, appearing in ten episodes, including Charles Beaumont’s adaptation of Dorothy Salisbury Davis’ story “Backward, Turn Backward.” Bailey also appeared in an episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour. His career ended abruptly with the onset of Alzheimer’s disease. 

The production does an admirable job of establishing the character of Agnes, the supercomputer. Using lights and panels from the MGM props department, UNIVAC I tape drivers, and an impressive, custom-built “mouth” for communication cards, Agnes was given a believable range of responses that remains the highlight of an otherwise disappointing episode. 

Although none of the approaches to the dramatic possibilities of computers reaches the heights of the greatest episodes, “From Agnes—With Love” remains a low point in the uneven final season. Despite the presence of talented performers, and the show’s generally high production standards, the episode suffers from the thinness of its concept and the insincerity of its execution. 

Grade: D

1. Froug shelved Richard Matheson’s “The Doll” on the basis of its similarity to the earlier fifth season episode “Living Doll.” Matheson’s script was produced in 1986 for the first season of the Steven Spielberg-produced anthology series Amazing Stories. Froug also shelved Charles Beaumont’s adaptation of his 1960 story “Gentlemen, Be Seated,” about a future in which humor is outlawed. Jerry Sohl suffered the worst, as two of his scripts were nixed by Froug. “Who Am I” was set to be Sohl’s first credit on the series, as he had ghost-written scripts under Beaumont’s byline when Beaumont became ill with the disease that ultimately took his life. Another script, “Pattern for Doomsday,” a collaboration with Beaumont, was also scrapped.

2. See our review of “Ninety Years Without Slumbering.”

Next Time in the Vortex: A look at Richard Matheson’s final Twilight Zone episode, “Spur of the Moment.”


Acknowledgements:
 
--The Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic by Martin Grams, Jr. (OTR, 2008)
 
--A Critical History of Television’s The Twilight Zone, 1959-1964 by Don Presnell and Marty McGee (McFarland & Co., 1998)
 
--The Twilight Zone Companion (3rd ed.) by Marc Scott Zicree (Silman-James, 2018)
 
--Inside The Twilight Zone by Marc Scott Zicree (CBS DVD/Image Entertainment, 2000)
 
--Rod Serling’s Night Gallery: An After-Hours Tour by Scott Skelton and Jim Benson (Syracuse University Press, 1999)
 
--The Internet Movie Database (imdb.com)


Notes: 
 
--Richard Donner directed five additional episodes of the series, all for the fifth season: “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” “Sounds and Silences,” “The Jeopardy Room,” “The Brain Center at Whipple’s,” and “Come Wander with Me.”
 
--Wally Cox also appeared in the second season segment of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery, “Junior.”
 
--Sue Randall also appeared in the first season episode, “And When the Sky Was Opened.”
 
--Raymond Bailey appeared in two additional episodes of the series, “Escape Clause,” from the first season, and “Back There,” from the second season.
 
--Don Keefer memorably appeared in the third season episode “It’s a Good Life,” as well as in the fourth season episode “Passage on the Lady Anne.” Keefer also appeared in the third season segment of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery, “You Can Come Up Now, Mrs. Millikan.”
 
--Nan Peterson appeared in three additional episodes of the series, often in uncredited roles: “Walking Distance,” “The Night of the Meek,” and “The Whole Truth.”
 
--“From Agnes–With Love” was adapted as a
Twilight Zone Radio Drama starring Ed Begley, Jr.


-JP

Wednesday, February 11, 2026

"Night Call"

 

Ring ring. It's your nightmares.


“Night Call”
Season Five, Episode 139
Original Air Date: February 7, 1964
 

Cast:
Elva Keene: Gladys Cooper
Margaret Phillips: Nora Marlowe
Miss Finch: Martine Bartlett
Voice of Brian Douglas: Ken Drake

Crew:
Writer: Richard Matheson (based on his story “Long Distance Call”)
Director: Jacques Tourneur
Producer: Bert Granet
Director of Photography: Robert W. Pittack
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Art Direction: George W. Davis and Walter Holscher
Film Editor: Richard Heermance
Set Decoration: Henry Grace and Robert R Benton
Assistant Director: Charles Bonniwell, Jr.
Casting: Patricia Rose
Music: Stock
Sound: Franklin Milton and Philip N. Mitchell
Mr. Serling’s Wardrobe: Eagle Clothes
Filmed at MGM Studios

And Now, Mr. Serling:

“Next time out on The Twilight Zone, Richard Matheson provides us with a tour-de-force in suspense and the unexpected with a show called ‘Night Call.’ It stars one of the most eminent actresses of our time, Miss Gladys Cooper, and it poses the kind of question that arises when a telephone keeps ringing and you realize that the caller has not been on Earth for a number of years. I hope this intrigues because I think the show will. Next time out, ‘Night Call.’”

Rod Serling’s Opening Narration:

“Miss Elva Keene lives alone on the outskirts of London Flats, a tiny rural community in Maine. Up until now, the pattern of Miss Keene’s existence has been that of lying in her bed or sitting in her wheelchair reading books, listening to the radio, eating, napping, taking medicine and waiting for something different to happen. Miss Keene doesn’t know it yet, but her period of waiting has just ended, for something different is about to happen to her, and has in fact already begun to happen, via two most unaccountable telephone calls in the middle of a stormy night. Telephone calls routed directly through…the Twilight Zone.”

Summary:

Elva Keene lives alone in a small house in a rural community in Maine. Wheelchair bound, the elderly Miss Keene is attended to by her caretaker, Margaret, during the day. One night, during a particularly devastating storm, Elva Keene is awoken by the ringing of her telephone. It is two in the morning. She picks up the receiver and hears only static. Figuring it a bad connection, she hangs ups. Seconds later, the phone rings again. She picks it up. Just jumbled static. Confused and shaken, she hangs up.

The next morning, Keene dials the local operator to inquire about the strange phone calls. The operator informs her that it may have just been a faulty connection due to the storm and that, for the moment, the calls are not able to be traced due to the aftermath of the storm. Miss Finch, the operator, tells her that if the calls continue, to let her know. Later that day, she receives another call. Like before, she is unable to hear anyone on the other end. She calls the operator again.

That night, she receives another call. “Hello,” she says. A deep, anguished moaning seeps from the receiver. A man’s voice. “Hello,” she says. “Hello,” the voice responds. Frightened, she drops the receiver. The next morning, she tells Miss Finch about the call but it is apparent that she does not believe her. Miss Finch tells her that she will have someone check the line.

Later that day, Miss Keene receives another call. Margaret tells her to keep the phone off the hook until she needs to make a call. That night, she attempts to take Margaret’s advice, but the dial tone is too loud. She places the receiver back on the hook. The phone rings immediately. She answers it. “Where are you? I want to talk to you?” the voice repeats on a loop. “Leave me alone!” she screams at the voice.

The next day, Miss Finch calls Miss Keene and tells her that they were able to trace the calls to a fallen wire just outside of town. At a cemetery.

Margaret drives Miss Keene to Valley View Cemetery. Keene instructs her where to go. They stop at the grave of Brian Douglas, who died in 1932. There is a fallen phone line spliced open on top of the grave site. Keene then reveals that this is the grave of her fiancé who died in a car accident a week before they were to be married. Keene describes her younger self as a demanding young woman who was very controlling of her fiancé. Against his advice, she was driving the car that night in 1932 when she lost control and smashed into a tree, killing her fiancé and paralyzing herself. She realizes now that Brian is trying to communicate with her. Maybe now she will not feel so alone.

That night, no longer frightened, Elva Keene picks up the receiver, anxious to speak with her long-departed love. After an eternity she hears a voice. “You said leave you alone,” the voice says. “I always do what you say.” The line goes dead. She begs Brian to come back but her efforts are in vain. The line is quiet, and Elva Keene is all alone.

Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:

“According to the Bible, God created the heavens and the Earth. It is man’s prerogative, and woman’s, to create their own particular and private Hell. Case in point, Miss Elva Keene, who in every sense has made her own bed and now must lie in it, sadder but wiser, by dint of a rather painful lesson in responsibility. Transmitted...from the Twilight Zone.”



Commentary:

Writer Richard Matheson’s penultimate episode of The Twilight Zone continues what is arguably his most successful and most productive season of the show’s five year run. Thus far into the show’s final season he had seen his stories, “Steel” and “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” made into highly acclaimed episodes of the show, the former being his personal favorite episode of the show, and the latter eventually becoming the most well-known episode of the show, and by extension, one of the most famous moments in television history. With “Night Call” Matheson would get to work with a director he had long admired, Jacques Tourneur, to produce another of his favorite episodes of the show. He would see just one more of his scripts produced on the show, “Spur of the Moment.” Matheson saw more of his scripts produced during the final season than in any of the previous four seasons. A fifth script, “The Doll,” was purchased by producer Bert Granet and was slated for production but was later cut from the production schedule by incoming producer William Froug after Granet left the show for a position on the CBS series The Great Adventure. “The Doll” was later made into an episode of Amazing Stories in 1986 by director Phil Joanou. It starred John Lithgow as a lonely bachelor who buys a doll for his niece’s birthday but ends up becoming captivated by it. Lithgow won his first Emmy Award for his performance and Matheson was nominated for a Writers Guild of America Award for his script. No reason was given for not going forward with the production. It could possibly be that there had already been a highly acclaimed episode called “Living Doll” earlier in the season but, given that Froug also cancelled production on teleplays by writers Charles Beaumont and Jerry Sohl, it’s likely that he simply wanted to bring in new writers and take the show in a different direction. Whether or not Matheson would have continued to submit new teleplays for the show’s sixth season, had it been renewed, is a question lost to history. But with four memorable episodes during its fifth and final season, Matheson would exit the show on a high note.

Famously, “Night Call” was originally slated to air the night of Friday, November 22, 1963 but was postponed, as all scheduled programing on network television was, after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in Dallas earlier that day. Instead, due to the particularly grim nature of the episode, they bumped it to February 7, 1964.

Matheson originally published this story under the editor-chosen title of “Sorry, Right Number” in the November, 1953 issue of Beyond Fantasy Fiction. It later appeared in his collection, Shock! (Dell, 1961) under his preferred title of “Long Distance Call.” The title was changed again after Matheson’s teleplay was purchased by producer Bert Granet because the show had already aired an episode called “Long Distance Call,” written by Charles Beaumont and Bill Idelson, during its second season. The title was changed to “Night Call,” this time with Matheson’s approval.

The first half of Matheson’s teleplay is faithful to his story almost down to each line of dialogue, but the end of the episode differs significantly from its source material. The stories are the same up until the scene where Elva Keene is informed that the calls are coming from a severed line located at a cemetery on the edge of town. The scene then abruptly ends. The next, final scene sees Miss Keene alone in her bed that night, petrified with fear. Finally, the phone rings and, feeling as if she must, she picks it up. “Hello, Miss Elva,” the voice on the other end says. “I’ll be right over.” End story. There is no fiancé and there is no trip to the cemetery. Miss Keene is never really given any kind of backstory, so the reader is not persuaded into feeling any kind of sympathy for her.

Matheson was well known for not favoring changes to his material but in this instance the change came from Matheson himself. He told editor Stanley Wiater that he felt his original ending was too morbid and that he preferred the ending of the episode because it made the story more of a character study. The ending of the original story is fun and ghastly, à la Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, but the updated ending gives the main character a lot more depth and leaves the viewer with a sense of devastation at the loss that she has suffered. Matheson is not simply setting the audience up for a punch at the end of the episode. There is a punch, of course, in the scene in which the operator tells Miss Keene that the call is coming from the cemetery. But this comes only midway through the episode. There is an entire act that follows. Matheson delivers the shock that the audience is expecting early so he can make the real jolt the tragedy that is Elva Keene’s doomed, unhappy existence.

There is debate among fans as to whether Miss Keene deserves her unfortunate fate. Matheson does not appear to insinuate one way or another. He does provide clues throughout the episode that give the audience a glimpse into the kind of life she has lived and into her wants and insecurities. She is a demanding person with an abrasive personality, a trait that she appears to be, at least on some level, ashamed of. She was behind the wheel the night her fiancé was killed because she demanded to be. But she was also permanently injured and has had to live with the knowledge that she was responsible for his death her entire life. One would think that she is entitled to at least some sympathy. But, as it appears, Matheson is implying that sympathy cannot change the past.

“Night Call” was directed by legendary French director Jacques Tourneur, whom Matheson personally requested for this episode. Tourneur had been directing films for thirty years at this point and was noted for his highly atmospheric style, having helped pioneer the black and white aesthetic that would become known as film noir. He was the son of famed director Maurice Tourneur and started working in the industry while still in high school. He and his father moved back and forth between Hollywood and France so Tourneur became familiar with both American and French filmmaking. He first made a name for himself as a director of low-budget horror films for RKO under legendary producer Val Lewton. For Lewton, Tourneur directed the iconic horror film Cat People in 1942 and followed it with I Walked with a Zombie and The Leopard Man in 1943. After this, Tourneur was promoted to A-list pictures at RKO. In 1947, he directed the film noir, Out of the Past, further cementing his reputation as a reliable and creatively ambitious director. He eventually left RKO for a freelance career. His other films include Stars in My Crown (1950), Nightfall (1956), and Night of the Demon (1957).

When asked by producer Bert Granet which directors he would like to see direct some of his Twilight Zone episodes, Matheson’s only answer was Jacques Tourneur. Granet was initially hesitant because Tourneur was a film director and had limited experience directing episodic television—this was not entirely true as Tourneur had, by this point, directed many episodes of The Californians and several other half-hour episodic series, but he was an older director who was still relatively new to television so Granet had doubts about Tourneur being able to complete production on time. The two had actually worked together years before on the film Berlin Express in 1948. As it turned out, according to Matheson, Tourneur completed production in less than thirty hours, making “Night Call” one of the shortest production schedules of the entire series. 

Cat People
(1942)

Matheson had been a longtime admirer of Tourneur’s and of Val Lewton’s. As a teenager, he wrote letters to Lewton telling him how much he enjoyed his films, particularly Cat People. When Matheson was brought in to pitch his idea for The Birds to director Alfred Hitchcock he used Cat People as an example of his approach to the script. He felt not showing the birds would make them scarier, as it had with the cats in Tourneur’s film. Needless to say, Hitchcock did not agree with his approach and ended up using over three thousand live birds in his film. To his delight, Matheson got to work with Tourneur twice in less than a year. In 1963, Tourneur directed the Matheson-penned horror spoof, The Comedy of Terrors, for American International Pictures, for whom Matheson had just scripted four films in Roger Corman’s Edgar Allan Poe cycle.

Tourneur brings an overtly noir sensibility to Matheson’s script, with elements of his horror background on display as well. The daytime scenes are shot traditionally with lots of lighting but the night scenes contain lots of interesting atmosphere, including a cool shot of the shadows of branches reflected on Gladys Cooper’s face as they sway in the wind just outside the window. The loud, abrasive ring of the telephone is also a very jarring and effective device. What gives these scenes such an unforgettably disturbing quality is the sound of the voice on the phone (voiced by Ken Drake) which increases in cognizance every time Miss Keene answers the phone. The pacing of these scenes, and the increase in Elva Keene’s dread, is what stays with the audience after the episode is over. It is unfortunate that Tourneur directed only a single episode, his aesthetic fits the show perfectly.

Gladys Cooper returns for the third and final time on The Twilight Zone. She previously appeared in the season three episode “Nothing in the Dark” giving a most remarkable performance. She also appears in a supporting role in the season four episode “Passage on the Lady Anne.” Cooper rose to fame on stage in London’s West End, occasionally appearing on Broadway and in early British films as well. She moved to Hollywood in 1940 at the age of 52 and found immediate success. Her first role in her new home was in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rebecca in 1940. In 1942 she appeared as a dominating matriarch in what is probably her most famous role in Irving Rapper’s Now, Voyager. Other roles include The Song of Bernadette (1943), The Bishop’s Wife (1947), The Secret Garden (1949), and My Fair Lady (1964). She was nominated three times for the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress.

Her performance here is incredible. Cooper was known for playing strong, often domineering women. Both of her leading roles on The Twilight Zone often showcase this ability although they are also very anxious, frightened characters as well. Her ability to balance both of these emotions is done seamlessly. In contrast, her supporting role in the hour-long “Passage on the Lady Anne” displays a light, amiable side and is just as believable. All three of her episodes concern old age, a subject the show would return to again and again.

Nora Marlowe appeared previously on the show in the season two episode “Back There.” She was often cast as nurses, nuns, and housekeepers. She had bit roles in the films An Affair to Remember (1957), North by Northwest (1959), The Thomas Crown Affair (1968), and Soylent Green (1973). She was a prolific presence in episodic television of the era but today she is probably best remembered for her recurring role as Flossie Brimmer on The Waltons.

Martine Bartlett was also active in television during the 1960s including a role in the miniseries Sybil in 1976. Her most recognizable role was as Miss Metcalf in Elia Kazan’s Splendor in the Grass (1961). 

Ken Drake appeared in numerous television series including dozens of appearances on Sea Hunt and a short-lived leading role on the crime series Not for Hire opposite Ralph Meeker.

“Night Call” may seem like an atypical episode to some, given its macabre sensibilities, but it’s still an enjoyable one and it’s one of the best offerings of the show’s fifth season. Matheson’s script is trimmed and crafted to perfection, Tourneur’s pacing and atmosphere are highly effective, and Gladys Cooper turns in a remarkable performance as the controlling but insecure Elva Keene. It comes recommended.


Grade: A


Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following:

The Twilight Zone Scripts of Richard Matheson, Vol.2, edited Stanley Wiater (Edge Books, 2002)

Richard Matheson: Collected Stories, Vol. 1, edited by Stanley Wiater (Gauntlet Press, 2003)

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

The Twilight Zone Companion by Marc Scott Zicree (3rd ed., Silman-James Press, 2018)

Internet Speculative Fiction Database

Internet Movie Database

Wikipedia


Notes:

__Richard Matheson first published this story under the title “Sorry, Right Number” (editor’s title) in the November, 1953 issue of Beyond Fantasy Fiction. It was later collected in his collection of short fiction, Shock! (Dell, 1961), under his preferred title, “Long Distance Call.” It is currently available in his collections Nightmare at 20,000 Feet (Tor, 2002) and The Best of Richard Matheson (Penguin Books, 2017).

__Matheson’s script for this episode can be found in Richard Matheson’s The Twilight Zone Scripts, Vol. 2 (Gauntlet Press, 2002) edited by Stanley Wiater.

__Gladys Cooper also appeared in the season three episode “Nothing in the Dark” and the season four episode “Passage on the Lady Anne.”

__Nora Marlowe also appeared in the season two episode “Back There.”

__Ken Drake also appeared in season two’s “A Hundred Yards Over the Rim” and season five’s “A Kind of a Stopwatch.”

__“Night Call” was adapted into a Twilight Zone Radio Drama by author Dennis Etchison in 2009. It stars Mariette Hartley and was directed by Carl Amari and Roger Wolski.

 

Brian