Jerry Etherson (Cliff Robertson) and Willy |
Season Three, Episode 98
Original
Air Date: May 4, 1962
Cast:
Jerry
Etherson/Voice of Willy/Voice of Goofy Goggles: Cliff Robertson
Frank:
Frank Sutton
Willy
as Ventriloquist: George Murdock
Georgie:
John Harmon
Noreen:
Sandra Warner
Ralph,
the Doorkeeper: Ralph Manza
Master
of Ceremonies: Rudy Dolan
Chorus
Girl #1: Bethelynn Grey
Chorus
Girl #2: Edy Williams
Crew:
Writer:
Rod Serling (based on a story idea by
Lee Polk)
Director:
Abner Biberman
Producer:
Buck Houghton
Production
Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Director
of Photography: George T. Clemens
Art
Direction: George W. Davis and
Merrill Pye
Set
Decoration: Henry Grace and Keogh
Gleason
Assistant
Director: E. Darrell Hallenbeck
Casting:
Robert Walker
Special
Makeup: William Tuttle
Editor:
Jason H. Bernie
Sound:
Franklin Milton and Bill Edmondson
Music:
stock
Optical
FX: Pacific Title
Rod
Serling’s Wardrobe: Eagle Clothes
Filmed
at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios
And Now, Mr. Serling:
“Next
week on The Twilight Zone, a return visit from an illustrious young
actor, Cliff Robertson. He stars in one of the strangest tales we’ve yet to
throw at you. It’s called ‘The Dummy’ and it involves a ventriloquist and a
piece of painted wood, a unique slab of carved pine who decides that
lap-sitting is for the birds and who takes things into his own wooden hands.
Now this one we recommend to the voice-throwers across the land. We hope to see
you then.
“Chesterfield
King? Extra length? Sure, and more. For only Chesterfield King gives you the
wonderful taste of twenty-one great tobaccos. Try a pack.”
Rod Serling’s Opening Narration:
“You’re
watching a ventriloquist named Jerry Etherson, a voice-thrower par excellence. His
alter ego sitting atop his lap is a brash stick of kindling with the sobriquet
‘Willy.’ In a moment, Mr. Etherson and his knotty-pine partner will be booked
in one of the out-of-the-way bistros, that small, dark, intimate place known as
The Twilight Zone.”
Jerry
Etherson is a ventriloquist working the nightclub circuit in New York City.
Etherson is a recluse who drinks too much, which hampers his career and
frustrates his agent, Frank. Frank believes Etherson’s personal and
professional problems can all be attributed to his excessive drinking. Etherson
insists he drinks to escape the fact that his dummy, Willy, is alive and trying
to ruin him. Frank dismisses Etherson’s fears as irrational paranoia.
In
an effort to free himself from Willy, Etherson decides to use another dummy,
Goofy Goggles, for his next performance. After the performance, Etherson learns
that Frank is quitting as his agent. “You keep your ten percent and I’ll keep
my self-respect,” Frank tells him. After the nightclub closes, Etherson locks
Willy in a trunk in his dressing room and leaves. He cannot escape Willy that
easy, however, and is haunted by Willy’s voice calling out to him and laughing
at him. Etherson bungles an attempt to join the company of Noreen, a chorus
girl from the nightclub.
Etherson
rushes back to the nightclub intent on destroying Willy. In his darkened dressing
room, he throws open the trunk, pulls the dummy from within, throws it to the
floor, and smashes it with his foot. He turns on the light and finds that he
has destroyed Goofy Goggles. “How could I have gotten the wrong one?” Etherson
asks. “Maybe you need glasses,” comes a familiar voice in the room.
Willy
sits on the sofa, fully alive and intent on continuing their partnership. Sometime
later, Willy and Jerry are introduced in a nightclub in Kansas City. When the
curtain parts, the performers walk on stage. Willy is now the ventriloquist and
the dummy on his knee is Etherson.
Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:
“What’s
known in the parlance of the times as ‘the old switcheroo,’ from boss to
blockhead in a few uneasy lessons. And if you’re given to nightclubbing on
occasion, check this act. It’s called ‘Willy and Jerry,’ and they generally are
booked into some of the clubs along the ‘Gray Night Way’ known as The Twilight Zone.”
Commentary:
Perhaps an
under-discussed aspect of The Twilight
Zone is the frequency, and variety, with which the series approached tales
of doubles, dummies, dolls, and effigies. Such tales were a recurring story
motif for the entirety of the series. Even the pilot episode “Where is
Everybody?” contained an emotional scene centered on a store mannequin. Beginning
with such first season episodes as “The Lonely,” “Elegy,” “Mirror Image,” and
“The After Hours,” and continuing on with “The Lateness of the Hour,” “The
Trade-Ins,” “In His Image,” “The New Exhibit,” and more, this type of tale
included some of the most well-regarded episodes of the series, such as “Living
Doll” and the episode we are looking at here.
The best of these episodes play on what is known in psychological terms
as automatonophobia (fear of human-like figures) and the related term
pediophobia (fear of dolls). The tale of the evil ventriloquist dummy offers an
opportunity to explore these fears through a uniquely psychological perspective,
due to the intrinsic aspect connecting the performer to the object of the
performance. In this way, it is closely related to tales of puppets or
marionettes, objects which achieve a semblance of life through human
interaction. Despite a prevalence in the genre, tales of evil dummies and dolls
remain fascinating and effective because they explore identity, sanity,
control, and the ability to animate the inanimate through a lens of fear and
fantasy.
Though
ventriloquism was used in religious ceremony since the middle ages, it did not
see widespread use as a form of entertainment until the latter part of the 18th
century. The form as we recognize it today flourished in the music halls of
England and on the vaudeville stage in America in the latter part of the 19th
century and the early part of the 20th century. Early performers
simply spoke through their hands but the use of a doll or dummy was quickly
instituted and has remained an essential part of the performance art to this
day.
By
the time Rod Serling came to write his take on the tale of an evil
ventriloquist dummy, using a story idea from television writer Lee Polk, the
subgenre was well-worn and had already produced a handful of works now
recognized as classics of their type.
The
earliest of these stories was “The Rival Dummy” by Ben Hecht, originally
published in Liberty Magazine for the
issue of August 18, 1928. The story tells of a ventriloquist whose fragmented
sanity is reflected in his continued dependency on his dummy in order to
express himself. The most famous version of the story is the film The Great Gabbo (1929) starring Erich von Stroheim as the
ventriloquist. Though many sources are quick to point out that the film is not
a horror film, it is certainly a strange film, unusual even today and in its
treatment of a now well-thread theme. If nothing else, Hecht’s story and the von
Stroheim film are important progenitors of a certain subgenre of strange story.
“The Rival Dummy” was adapted for radio on The
Mollé Mystery Theatre for November 1, 1946 and for television for Westinghouse Studio One (Studio One in
Hollywood) for September 19, 1949. Twilight
Zone actress Anne Francis appeared in the television adaptation.
English
author Gerald Kersh published his famous story, “The Extraordinarily Horrible
Dummy,” in the anthology Penguin Parade
#6 in 1939. This story would prove to be enormously influential on
subsequent writers who tackled the theme, including Rod Serling. Kersh’s story
relates the tale of a ventriloquist who is controlled by a dummy that is
animated with the spirit of his dead father. The story was included in Kersh’s
1944 collection, The Horrible Dummy and
Other Stories (William Heinemann) and adapted for film, in an uncredited
sequence, in 1945 for Dead of Night. More
on this in a moment.
A
year after the Kersh story came “Nimbo and Nobby's Farewell Performance” (commonly reprinted as simply "Farewell Performance") from prolific English
ghost story writer H. Russell Wakefield. First published in Wakefield’s 1940
collection, The Clock Strikes Twelve (Herbert
Jenkins), it tells of a living dummy which reveals the ventriloquist’s crime of
murder. Wakefield’s story was adapted for television for Pepsi-Cola Playhouse on January 22, 1954 and re-aired as an episode
of Moment of Fear on July 20, 1965. Twilight Zone actor John Hoyt appeared
in the television adaptation.
A
tale which rivals Gerald Kersh’s for notoriety, mainly due to an excellent
television adaptation, arrived in 1944 from British author John Keir Cross,
titled “The Glass Eye.” Originally appearing in Cross’s collection of strange
stories, The Other Passenger, “The
Glass Eye” relates the love affair between a lonely woman and the handsome ventriloquist
who is the object of her affection. The tale is remembered chiefly due to its
clever and shocking twist ending. It was adapted as the opening episode of the
third season of Alfred Hitchcock
Presents, featuring Twilight Zone actor
William Shatner.
Then
arrived a film in 1945 which has proven hugely influential on Rod Serling and The Twilight Zone. The film, Dead of Night from Ealing Studios, is a
supernatural horror anthology film which contains five story segments and a
wraparound narrative segment. Rod Serling offered his adaptations of three of
the film’s five segments for The Twilight
Zone, seen in the episodes “Twenty-Two,” “The Mirror,” and “The Dummy.” The
final segment of Dead of Night, generally
referred to as “The Ventriloquist’s Dummy,” concerns a ventriloquist whose
dummy, Hugo, is alive and intent on taking over the act. Michael Redgrave stars
as the afflicted ventriloquist in a remarkable performance which likely
influenced Cliff Robertson’s turn as Jerry Etherson. “The Dummy” is a virtual
remake of the Dead of Night segment
with a few interesting variations. The film segment was an authorized, yet
uncredited, adaptation of Gerald Kersh’s story. Kersh’s biographer, Paul
Duncan, noted in the second issue of Kershed:
An Occasional Newsletter about Gerald Kersh that correspondence between
Kersh and the screenwriter of Dead of
Night confirm that the film segment is a loose adaptation of Kersh’s story.
Kersh was not compensated for the adaptation but he assured the screenwriter
that he would not bring litigation to the film’s producers and that he did not
require on-screen credit, due to the fact that the screenwriter changed enough
of the tale to disguise the source material. The film segment was adapted for
radio as “Dead of Night” as the one-off episode of Out of This World for February 28, 1947. A second performance of
the radio play served as the pilot episode of Escape! and aired on March 21, 1947. Twilight Zone actor Art Carney appeared in the radio adaptation. For
a more detailed look at this film and how it relates to The Twilight Zone, see our full review here.
Other
examples of the theme which appeared before “The Dummy” include “The
Ventriloquist’s Dummy,” first published in the February/March, 1952 issue of Tales from the Crypt comic magazine. The
story was written by Albert Feldstein, from an idea by Feldstein and publisher
William M. Gaines, and illustrated by “Ghastly” Graham Ingels. The story
effectively uses gruesome physical horror and was memorably adapted for the
second season of the Tales from the Crypt
television series starring Twilight
Zone actor Don Rickles and directed by Twilight
Zone director Richard Donner.
Twilight Zone writer Ray Bradbury
offered his unique take on the theme with his story, “And So Died
Riabouchinska,” first published in the June/July, 1953 issue of The Saint Detective Magazine. Bradbury initially sold his story to radio where it was adapted by Mel Dinelli and aired on Suspense for November 13, 1947. Bradbury adapted the story for the
first season of Alfred Hitchcock
Presents, featuring Twilight Zone actor
Charles Bronson, and again for The Ray
Bradbury Theater.
The
final notable story to predate Rod Serling’s “The Dummy,” and which offered a
unique take on the theme, was Robert Bloch’s “The Final Performance,” first
published in the September, 1960 issue of Shock
magazine and included in Bloch’s 1961 collection Blood Runs Cold (Simon & Schuster). Bloch’s story has a
pleasingly noir style and contains a memorable twist ending. It was adapted for
the third season of The Alfred Hitchcock
Hour by frequent Twilight Zone director
John Brahm.
Rod
Serling knew well enough the preceding history of the subgenre to offer some
interesting variations on the theme and to offer his own unique explanation for
the animating factor of the dummy. In a climactic moment, Willy the dummy, now
revealed to the audience as fully alive, tells Etherson, “You made me real. You
poured words into my head, you moved my mouth, you stuck out my tongue. You
jerk, don’t you get it? You made me what I am today.” Whereas many writers
choose to leave the animating factor unexplained, Serling chose to connect the
ventriloquist and the dummy in a definable way. Willy is, in a sense, all of
Etherson’s anxieties, insecurities, and fears made real through the communion
which occurs between performer and the object of the performance. The ending
which follows suggests that this side of Etherson is the dominating side and
that he has succumbed to this aspect of his nature. This moment is symbolically
realized visually by having Etherson on his knees with head bowed before Willy.
The
story idea was provided to Serling by New York City television writer and
programmer Lee Polk, who specialized in programming for children and in
educational programming. It is interesting to note that although Serling was
constantly inundated with unsolicited story ideas, he typically felt
comfortable accepting story ideas provided by fellow television writers such as
Polk and Frederic Louis Fox.
In
Polk’s version, the details of the story concerned a ventriloquist who
discovers during a performance that his dummy is alive and changing the act. In
this way, Serling was free to adapt the initial story idea in any way he wanted
and, more importantly, to dictate the tone of the tale in any way he saw fit. Serling
took his cue largely from the aforementioned film Dead of Night and found the idea of a ventriloquist battling his
dummy for ultimate control to be intriguing enough to neatly lift the framework
of that story and to place upon it his own unique style. One aspect which
Serling eschewed was the ambiguousness of the earlier treatment. In Dead of Night the audience is never
clearly told whether the dummy was really alive or only part of the psyche of
the ventriloquist. Serling wanted to craft a story where there was no doubt
that the dummy was alive, setting up his inventive twist ending.
This
being so, Serling left ambiguous supernatural aspects in the tale, including
Willy’s voice following Etherson outside the nightclub and the moment Etherson
accidentally destroys the wrong dummy, which, under the circumstances, seemed
impossible.
Serling was aided in bringing his story to life by a talented team of
actors and technicians, beginning with Cliff Robertson in the role of ventriloquist
Jerry Etherson. Robertson is making his second appearance on The Twilight Zone after his moving turn
in the second season timeslip episode, “A Hundred Yards Over the Rim.”
Robertson is best known for his Academy Award-winning performance in the 1968
film Charly, based on the 1959 Hugo
Award-winning short story “Flowers for Algernon” by Daniel Keyes, who in 1966
turned the story into a Nebula Award-winning novel. Robertson earlier starred
in a television adaptation of the story, “The Two Worlds of Charlie Gordon,”
for The United States Steel Hour, which
aired on February 22, 1961.
It is difficult to
imagine a better choice for the role of Jerry Etherson than Robertson, who throughout
the course of his distinguished career mastered the portrayal of sensitive,
emotional, and damaged characters. The role of Etherson allows Robertson to
show off his range through the entire emotional spectrum and he particularly
excels in moments of breakdown and crises. The scene in which he attempts to
engage the company of Noreen (Sandra Warner) only to send the young woman
running in panic is one of the most memorably uncomfortable scenes in the
entire series.
Robertson
found this role much easier to prepare for than that of “A Hundred Yards Over
the Rim,” a role which was historical in nature, due to the fact that his role
in “The Dummy” concerns show business and performance in a way he knew and
could relate to. Robertson began as a journalist who was pulled into acting
while covering the theater scene and ultimately joined the Actors Studio in New
York City. He did some stage work before moving into television and well understood
the intricate differences between performing on stage and performing in front
of the camera, allowing him to expertly combine these two disciplines for “The
Dummy.” An ingenious addition to the role is the fact that Robertson also provides
the voices of both dummies, Willy and Goofy Goggles, and chillingly captures
the malevolence and mania of Willy, particularly during the climactic scenes.
To prepare for the
role, Robertson consulted his friend Edgar Bergen, an accomplished
ventriloquist who had a long career on stage and radio. Robertson also
experienced a Twilight Zone moment
when he was preparing to begin filming “The Dummy.” He decided at the last
moment not to board the flight which was to take him from New York to
California. The flight crashed soon after takeoff, reminiscent of the plot to
the second season episode “Twenty-Two.” Robertson died in 2011. The Robertson
estate maintains an excellent website and those readers who wish to know more
about Robertson’s life and work are encouraged to go here.
“The
Dummy” is essentially a two-man show and working alongside Robertson is Frank Sutton
as Jerry Etherson’s agent, Frank. Sutton was a prolific actor on television,
stage, and, occasionally, in film, known for playing brash, tough characters.
He is best known for his role as Gunnery Sergeant Vince Carter opposite Jim
Nabors’s Gomer Pyle in Gomer Pyle,
U.S.M.C. Sutton brings his characteristic toughness to the role of Frank
but also lends the performance a sad and melancholy character which contributes
to the overall tone of the tragic tale. Sutton died in 1974.
Director
of “The Dummy,” Abner Biberman, is best known for his prolific work as a
character actor beginning in the 1930s and for his work as an acting coach.
Biberman was drawn to directing in the 1950s and his television work includes
such programs as Maverick, 77 Sunset
Strip, Gunsmoke, and Hawaii Five-O. Biberman
continued acting and directing into the 1970s. He died in 1977.
Biberman
directed four episodes of The Twilight
Zone, two of which must be considered among the front rank, “The Dummy” and
the underrated fifth season episode “Number 12 Looks Just Like You,” written by
John Tomerlin from a story by frequent Zone
contributor Charles Beaumont. Biberman brings a unique style to the series
characterized by innovative camera angles, subjective filming techniques, and
heavy symbolism. Biberman was also skilled in eliciting great performances from
his actors, due in no small part to his own prolific acting career and his
efforts as an acting coach.
“The
Dummy” also marked the return of Academy Award-winning makeup technician William Tuttle to the series. At the time Tuttle was the head of the makeup
department at MGM, where The Twilight
Zone was filmed. This episode offered a unique challenge to Tuttle in that
he had to create a ventriloquist dummy which resembled Cliff Robertson to effectively
achieve Serling’s twist ending. Tuttle decided that the best approach would be
to create a caricature of Robertson from which he could create a mold and build
it upon a traditional ventriloquist dummy. The problem which arose was that
Tuttle was not skilled enough in the art of caricature to create the
preliminary art require to build a workable model. Tuttle approached production
manager Ralph W. Nelson with the problem and through Nelson’s industry
connections was put in touch with skilled animator Thornton Hee, who went by
the name T. Hee.
Hee began his animation
career at Leon Schlesinger Productions where his skill in caricature was put on
display in various Merrie Melodies cartoons,
produced at the Schlesinger studios at the time before Schlesinger sold Merrie Melodies to Warner Brothers in
1944. Hee is best known for his on-again, off-again relationship with the Walt
Disney Studio, including his work directing the “Dance of the Hours” segment of
Fantasia. Hee provided the required
caricature sketches of Cliff Robertson which enabled Tuttle to build his model.
The dummy of Willy is now housed in the private collection of magician David
Copperfield, who began on his path to show business stardom as a ventriloquist
before discovering that his true skill lay in magic. Copperfield’s massive
private museum houses an entire room dedicated to the art of ventriloquism.
Prolific
character actor George Murdock, then at the beginning of his career, was
selected to portray Willy as the ventriloquist due to the unique appearance of
his facial features. Tuttle applied some light makeup touches, including
accentuating the eyebrows, nose, and cheeks, to better bring out these features
on Murdock. The result has divided some viewers on the effectiveness of the
ending, with some feeling that the dummy doesn’t resemble Cliff Robertson and
others that Murdock doesn’t resemble Willy. For all that, the twist ending
remains one of the best of the series and serves as a fine example of Tuttle’s
unique style and skill. For more on William Tuttle’s work in television and
film, see our profile here.
The
final aspect of “The Dummy” which bears discussion is the rather unfortunate
radio drama adaptation featuring Bruno Kirby in the role of Jerry Etherson. The Twilight Zone Radio Drama series is,
without question, one of the finest and most successful endeavors of its type
but one of the few missteps is their version of “The Dummy.” Two principal
factors contribute to the overall underwhelming effect of the radio drama. The
most obvious is the fact that “The Dummy” is a story which heavily relies upon
visual cues. Without such visual cues, the radio drama is forced to have
Etherson continuously talk to himself in order to tell the listener what they
should “see.” The effect is tiring and unbelievable. This reliance upon the
visual particularly hinders the radio dramatization in the ending, where a
sound effect of a clicking wooden mouth is added to make clear to the listener
who is the dummy and who is the ventriloquist. Perhaps another actor could have
brought it off effectively but actor Bruno Kirby was not the ideal choice to
recreate the role of Jerry Etherson. Kirby is a fine actor who did great work
on the radio drama series but the quality of his voice acting is not varied
enough to convincingly create three separate characters (Jerry, Willy, and
Goofy Goggles), which is absolutely required for “The Dummy” to work. Kirby
would appear frequently on the radio drama series, in such episodes as “The
Last Night of a Jockey,” “Mr. Bevis,” and “What You Need.”
“The
Dummy” is a masterpiece of dramatic writing, acting, and technical achievement
which remains one of the most fondly remembered and frightening episodes
produced on the series. It overcomes its essential derivative nature to present
a compelling portrait of psychological horror and transformation and remains an
enduring testament to the powerful storytelling of Rod Serling and the unique
appeal of The Twilight Zone.
Grade:
A+
Grateful
acknowledgement to:
--Cliff Robertson audio commentary, The Twilight Zone Definitive Edition DVD
--The Internet Speculative Fiction
Database (isfdb.org)
--The Internet Movie Database (imdb.com)
--The Classic TV Archive (ctva.biz)
--The Digital Deli (digitaldeliftp.com)
for radio drama information
--Paul Duncan, “Dead of Night, the
Mystery Solved,” from Kershed, issue
2 (12/22/98)
---The
Twilight Zone Companion by Marc Scott
Zicree (2nd ed, Bantam, 1989)
---The
Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic by Martin Grams, Jr. (OTR, 2008)
--Abner
Biberman directed three additional episodes of the series, “The Incredible
World of Horace Ford,” from season four, and “Number 12 Looks Just Like
You” and “I Am the Night-Color Me Black” from season five.
--Cliff
Robertson also starred in the second season episode, “A Hundred Yards Over the
Rim.”
--George
Murdock also appears in the pilot film for Rod Serling’s Night Gallery, in
the segment, “Escape Route.”
--John
Harmon also appears in the fourth season episode, “Of Late I Think of
Cliffordville.”
--Sandra
Warner also appears, uncredited, in the first season episode, “A Nice Place to
Visit.”
--Ralph
Manza also appears in an episode of the first revival Twilight Zone series
titled “Cold Reading.”
--“The
Dummy” was adapted as a Twilight Zone
Radio Drama starring Bruno Kirby.
-JP
Who could forget this episode? You did an excellent job of research on dummy stories and I really enjoyed this article.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jack. Truly an unforgettable episode and a great performance from Cliff Robertson. I wanted to give an as complete as possible reading/viewing list of dummy stories which preceded "The Dummy" for those that are interested in such things. I'm sure I missed a few selections, particularly from the horror comics of the 1950s.
DeleteAt one point in "Dead of Night" Maxwell Frere's rival Sylvester Kee observes Frere's dummy Hugo bite him. The bite draws blood, something Kee also witnesses. A similar scene occurs in "The Dummy" where showgirls see Etherson recoil from being bitten by his dummy Willie. The bite leaves a mark. However, this mark is only something Jerry, and no else, sees. In fact, unlike "Dead of Night," where Hugo's strange behavior is witnessed by someone other than his ventriloquist, there is never a point in "The Dummy" where anyone but Jerry sees his dummy Willie doing crazy things. Now, this being "The Twilight Zone," you're reading -- Jerry is alive -- is a likely one. But, I submit to you, that there's just as much evidence supporting the belief that Willie is in fact a figment of Jerry's imagination. Take for instance the episode's frequent use of POV shots and Dutch-angles -- which suggest we are viewing much of the episode through Jerry's unwell perspective. Furthermore, that final shot, where Jerry and Willie switched roles, could just as easily be a glimpse into what's transpiring inside Jerry's head -- as a wonderful "TZ" podcast called "The Fifth Dimension" suggested in their review a few years back -- as it could be a literal switch. The episode uses, I think, the unreliable narrator, to stellar effect; it keeps us off-balance, making us question everything that we see and hear. In conclusion, I enjoyed your review highly, but have to respectively disagree with your assertion that Serling left "no doubt that the dummy was alive." I agree with you that this episode is amazing -- and one of the major reasons why is it leaves itself open to interpretation.
ReplyDeletePerhaps I am guilty of too literal a viewing of the episode. Yours is a very interesting view and though I agree that one could view the episode via an entirely psychological perspective if they wished to do so, I don't believe this is what Serling intended. That is all I wished to convey by any assertion. Mine is an attempt to discover the most likely intention of the episode from the perspective of the creator rather than the viewer. As you can imagine, attempting to elucidate the myriad interpretations which could be brought to an episode by a viewer is an impossible task.
DeleteThe ending confirms the supernatural aspect for me. The idea that it's just a physical manifestation of what's inside Jerry's head is certainly an interesting theory but ultimately, for me, too far of a reach to be believed as something the filmmakers intended. And this is an important distinction to make. One can be reasonably certain that Serling, at least, intended the ending at face value, no pun intended. He deliberately went against the ambiguous ending of Dead of Night's segment where only a voice tells the viewer of the switch. Even so, viewers are welcome to bring any interpretation of the episode as they wish. That's one of great aspects of the series. Thank you for sharing this interpretation as it will be interesting to go back and watch the episode again with this in mind. And many viewers may in fact agree with or prefer this interpretation.
I meant "Willie is alive." Sorry about that.
ReplyDeleteFrank Sutton doesn't have anywhere near as much screen time as Cliff Robertson, but he REALLY showed that he had serious chops as an actor -- much more than one might have guessed from his stint on "Gomer Pyle". It's amazing how much acting talent got entombed over the decades on second-rate TV. Shirley Booth (an Oscar-winner) deserved far better than years of "Hazel" (and yes, I know the money was great). My own revelation was Ricardo Montalban. I saw him on stage as Don Juan in a touring company of George Bernard Shaw's "Don Juan in Hell", and he damned near blew the audience out of the theater. WHAT was such a great actor doing on that mildewed corn "Fantasy Island"? Thank God "The Twilight Zone", which was first-rate television, gave excellent showcases to such great performers as Anne Francis, Brian Aherne, Jack Klugman -- and, of course, Cliff Robertson in this episode and "A Hundred Yards Over The Rim".
ReplyDeleteFantasy Island was good!
Delete