Showing posts with label Abner Biberman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Abner Biberman. Show all posts

Monday, March 9, 2020

"The Incredible World of Horace Ford"


Pat Hingle as Horace Ford

“The Incredible World of Horace Ford”
Season Four, Episode 117
Original Air Date: April 18, 1963

Cast:
Horace Maxwell Ford: Pat Hingle
Laura Ford: Nan Martin
Mrs. Ford: Ruth White
Leonard O’Brien: Phillip Pine
Mr. Judson: Vaughn Taylor
Betty O’Brien: Mary Carver
Hermy Brandt: Jerry Davis
Horace as Child: Jim E. Titus

Crew:
Writer: Reginald Rose
Director: Abner Biberman
Producer: Herbert Hirschman
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Associate Producer: Murray Golden
Assistant to the Producer: John Conwell
Art Direction: George W. Davis & Edward Carfagno
Film Editor: Eda Warren
Set Decoration: Henry Grace & Edward M. Parker
Assistant Director: John Bloss
Sound: Franklin Milton & Joe Edmondson
Music: stock
Mr. Serling’s Wardrobe: Eagle Clothes
Filmed at MGM Studios

And Now, Mr. Serling:
“On our next excursion into The Twilight Zone we borrow an imposing array of talent and call on the services of a distinguished author named Reginald Rose, and some exceptionally fine acting talent in the persons of Mr. Pat Hingle, Miss Nan Martin, and Miss Ruth White. They appear in a story called ‘The Incredible World of Horace Ford,’ and it’s an incredible world indeed.”

Rod Serling’s Opening Narration:
“Mr. Horace Ford, who has a preoccupation with another time, a time of childhood, a time of growing up, a time of street games, stickball, and hide-and-go-seek. He has a reluctance to check out a mirror and see the nature of his image, proof-positive that the time he dwells in has already passed him by. But in a moment or two he’ll discover that mechanical toys and memories and daydreaming and wishful thinking and all manner of odd and special events can lead one into a special province, uncharted and unmapped, a country of both shadow and substance known as The Twilight Zone.”

Summary:
            Horace Ford is a middle-aged toy designer who clings to the happy memories of his childhood to such a degree that he behaves and speaks like a boy of ten. Horace’s childish behavior is a burden on his co-workers as well as his wife, Laura, and mother at home. On impulse one evening Horace decides to return to Randolph Street, where he grew up, for the first time in many years in order to rekindle happy memories.
            Horace discovers something amazing and terrifying on Randolph Street. It is just as it was when he was ten years old! He even sees some of his childhood friends, Hermy Brandt, Harvey Bender, George Langbert, and Cy Wright, as they were twenty-eight years ago. Horace drops his pocket watch when he accidentally runs into a man. He returns to his apartment shaken up by his experience. He tells Laura what he saw but she tries to explain to him that it couldn’t be the way he thought he saw it. Horace retreats to the bedroom to lie down. The doorbell rings. Laura answers the door. Ten-year-old Hermy Brant is at the door to return Horace’s pocket watch.
            Horace returns to Randolph Street on a following night where events are the same as when he visited before, even down to dropping his pocket watch again. Horace follows his childhood friends into an alley where he overhears the boys angrily talking about not being invited to a birthday party. Later, after Horace has returned to the apartment, Laura answers the doorbell to again receive Horace’s dropped pocket watch from Hermy Brandt.
Horace becomes obsessed with discovering his place in this memory frozen in time. His work starts to suffer to the point that his boss, Mr. Judson, suggests Horace take a leave of absence. When Horace refuses, Mr. Judson is forced to terminate Horace’s employment with the company.
            Laura is preparing for Horace’s surprise birthday party when he returns home late to deliver the news that he has been fired. Horace’s mother panics because she is worried there will be no money to secure their living conditions. Laura tries to be sympathetic but when Horace again starts talking about Randolph Street she loses her patience. Horace storms out of the apartment.
            He returns to Randolph Street. It is as it was before. Horace drops his pocket watch. He follows the boys into an alley to hear them speak of not being invited to a birthday party. Understanding his role in the memory now, Horace tries to speak to the boys, to explain to them why he didn’t invite them to his birthday party. Horace is a ten-year-old boy again. He pleads with his friends to understand. Instead, they mock him and beat him up.

            The partygoers have gathered back at Horace’s and Laura’s apartment. The doorbell rings. Everybody takes their positions in expectation that it is Horace at the door. Instead, it is Hermy Brandt again, there to return Horace’s watch. This time it is a Mickey Mouse watch like a child would wear.
            Laura goes to Randolph Street in search of Horace. She finds ten-year-old Horace in the alley, beaten and lying face down on the pavement. Laura turns away from the sight. When she turns back Horace is a grown man again. She helps him to his feet. He tells Laura of his experience and she explains that we remember the good times and black out the bad experiences in our lives, or else we could hardly go on living.
            Horace allows Laura to lead him away from Randolph Street. Neither of them notice Hermy Brandt sitting atop a streetlamp, looking down on them.

Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:
“Exit Mr. and Mrs. Horace Ford, who have lived through a bizarre moment not to be calibrated on normal clocks and watches. Time has passed, to be sure, but it’s the special time in the special place known as The Twilight Zone.”

Commentary:
           
Jim E. Titus as the young Horace Ford
“Seated at the desk, daydreaming, is Horace. He is approaching thirty-five and growing paunchy. Horace is a bulky man with an elusive, almost boyish quality. His clothes never seem to fit. His shirt blouses out of his trousers. His socks are always down around his ankles. And his thinning hair cannot stay combed at all. He is a mild man, an apologetic man, except when he is discussing his beloved childhood memories. Then he seems to find a strange vitality, which somehow doesn’t fit him. Horace is the kind of man who would naturally become the butt of endless jokes, would the jokers not feel instinctively sorry for him without quite knowing why. Were they wise enough, they would understand that the tragic quality of Horace Ford is based in the fact that he is not an inadequate man but really an inadequate grown-up boy.”
            -“The Incredible World of Horace Ford” by Reginald Rose (1955)

“The Incredible World of Horace Ford” was first performed on June 13, 1955 for the CBS television anthology series Studio One in Hollywood. It was directed by Franklin Schaffner, who directed over one hundred episodes of the anthology series including Reginald Rose’s “Twelve Angry Men.” Schaffner is likely best remembered for the feature films he directed later in his career, including Planet of the Apes (1968), Patton (1970), Papillon (1973), and The Boys from Brazil (1978). Schaffner also directed episodes of Playhouse 90, including a quartet of Rod Serling offerings, “Panic Button,” “Nightmare at Ground Zero,” “The Velvet Alley,” and “The Rank and File,” as well as Reginald Rose’s “The Cruel Day.” Schaffner later worked on Reginald Rose’s The Defenders.
            “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” was also performed on the Toronto-based anthology series General Motors Presents (aka Encounter) for March 27, 1960 with Alan Young as Horace Ford and Jill Foster as Laura.

When “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” appeared on Studio One, the play’s author, Reginald Rose, was four years into a television writing career whose output positioned him as one of the key foundational architects of the television drama, alongside Rod Serling, Gore Vidal, and Paddy Chayefsky. A few years later, Rose’s short story, the ironic and macabre “Parlor Game,” was prefaced (by an unsigned contributor) with this statement in the premier issue of the short-lived Shock magazine (1960):

            Just seven years ago, the infant industry of TV began to find its own artists – men who knew how to create memorable works of fiction in the form of a TV scenario. There was Paddy Chayefsky, who wrote “Marty” and “The Bachelor Party” and went on to screen and stage triumphs. There was – and is – Rod Serling who, despite several successful movies to his credit, has remained loyal to TV and is currently producing and writing the eerie “Twilight Zone” series. And then there is the most controversial of all the TV titans – Reginald Rose. From the moment his stirring “Remarkable Incident at Carsons [sic] Corners” exploded onto millions of home screens, Reginald Rose was acclaimed as TV’s freshest, most challenging writing talent. But he is better known for having authored the best motion picture written in America in the past five years. We refer, of course, to “Twelve Angry Men,” the unforgettable motion picture about a jury, starring Henry Fonda and Lee J. Cobb. Many other fine movies and rousing TV dramas have come from Reginald Rose’s facile pen.

Reginald Rose
Rose was born on December 10, 1920 in Manhattan and lived for much of his life in New York. He attended New York City College from 1937-1938 but left without taking a degree. The city was an enormous influence on Rose’s writing, an aspect beautifully captured in the production design for “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” and evidenced by the inclusion of such New York-centric elements as the child’s game Ringolevio. After a stint in the Air Force Quartermaster Corps (Rose enlisted after Pearl Harbor and rose to First Lieutenant), Rose, who had been actively writing since high school, and working a variety of jobs from copywriter for an ad agency to a publicist for Warner Brothers, sold his first television play, “The Bus to Nowhere,” in 1951 to the short-lived science fiction anthology series Out There. Although adept at fantasy, evidenced by Rose's adaptation of John Cheever’s “The Enormous Radio” for The Revlon Mirror Theater in 1953, and suspense, including episodes for the anthology series Danger, Rose established himself with a confrontational style of realistic drama which, much like the plays of Rod Serling, frequently examined societal problems of the day. Rose’s style of drama quickly found a home at Studio One. Rose produced seventeen teleplays for the series from 1952-1957, beginning with “The Kill” and including his most notable work as a dramatist, the Emmy Award-winning “Twelve Angry Men,” and a two-part drama, “The Defender,” which Rose later reworked as the Emmy-winning courtroom drama series The Defenders (1961-1965). “Twelve Angry Men,” which has become a standard text in American schools and a staple of regional stage productions, was based on Rose’s real-life experience as a first-time juror. It was adapted for film in 1957, as 12 Angry Men, from Rose’s script, directed by Sidney Lumet, starring Henry Fonda (who also served as Producer), E.G. Marshall (later star of Rose’s The Defenders), Lee J. Cobb, and Twilight Zone performers Jack Klugman, Martin Balsam, and Jack Warden. The film netted Rose two Academy Award nominations and won the author an Edgar Allan Poe Award from the Mystery Writers of America. 12 Angry Men was adapted for the stage in 1964 with revised versions appearing in 1996 and 2004. Showtime network filmed the play in 1997. It remains Rose’s best-known work and a classic of American drama. Reginald Rose died on April 19, 2002 in Norwalk, Connecticut.

Art Carney as Horace Ford
            For the Studio One version of “The Incredible World of Horace Ford,” Art Carney (star of Twilight Zone’s “The Night of the Meek”) appeared as Horace Maxwell Ford in a performance Rose later characterized as “fine as any I’ve seen on television; the shadings and insights he brought to the childlike, tormented character he played were nothing short of incredible.” Appearing as Laura Ford was Leora Dana with Jason Robards in the role of Horace’s friend and coworker Leonard O’Brien. The play generated an enormous response from viewers, with the CBS offices flooded with written responses ranging from consternation to anger to extreme praise. As Rose later stated: “No one, it seems, was neutral about this play.” The variety of experience caused by the play was due not only to the fantasy element (a novel quality in the early days of television, especially on a mainstream anthology program) but also the unorthodox and ambiguous ending of Rose’s play. As originally written, the play ends when Hermy Brandt returns Horace’s Micky Mouse watch to Laura, indicating that Horace became trapped in the past, never to return.

The doorbell rings. Everyone turns. Laura stands, Betty tiptoes over to the light switch and turns out the light. She puts her fingers to her lips. Everyone tiptoes over to one corner of the room, everyone but Laura and Mrs. Ford. They wait expectantly, hushed. The bell rings again. Betty waves Laura to the door. But Mrs. Ford walks to the door instead and opens it. Hermy Brandt stands there, an odd smile on his face. He holds up a nickel-plated pocket watch to Mrs. Ford.

HERMY: He dropped this.

Mrs. Ford takes the watch and Laura, rushing to her, takes it from her with trembling fingers. Hermy pads silently away. Laura looks at the watch and then she raises a hand to her face and begins to sob. Cut to close-up of watch. It is a Mickey Mouse watch.
Fade out.

            Viewers either did not understand this ending or simply refused to accept it, instead requiring a clear and satisfactory resolution to the events. Rose, working from the assumption that many viewers thought the fantasy element was only in Horace’s mind, attempted to set the record straight when he included “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” in Six Television Plays (1956):

“The entire story was a fantasy about real people and I felt that this was clearly proven when Hermy Brandt, Horace’s little childhood friend, broke out of what many thought to be Horace’s private fantasy, appeared at Horace’s home, and was seen and spoken to by Horace’s wife and mother.
            “What I meant to do with The Incredible World of Horace Ford was to tell a simple horror story about an everyday man with a somewhat exaggerated but everyday kind of problem and, in so doing, point out that the funny, tender childhood memories we cling to are often distorted and unreal.”

            The Twilight Zone later made this type of story its stock-in-trade in such episodes as “Walking Distance,” “A Stop at Willoughby,” “The Trouble with Templeton,” “Young Man’s Fancy,” and related episodes. In fact, in August, 1959, two months before the premier of The Twilight Zone, Rod Serling received a suggestion to produced Rose’s play for The Twilight Zone but passed on the opportunity because of the obvious similarities between “Horace Ford” and Serling’s “Walking Distance.” “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” perhaps does not receive enough credit as a pioneering work of television fantasy as it prefigured many of the themes and stylistic tropes of series such as One Step Beyond, The Twilight Zone, and ‘Way Out. As such, there really was no time in which to produce “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” on The Twilight Zone and have the play not resemble a recently aired episode. The episode which immediately preceded “Horace Ford,” although different in tone, was a time travel fantasy, “Of Late I Think of Cliffordville,” in which a man longs to return to his youth only to find it not nearly as rosy as he remembered.

Reginald Rose and Rod Serling (from TV Guide)
The element of time travel (and similar fantasy concepts) seems to have confounded audiences and networks in the pre-Twilight Zone days, with CBS bearing the brunt of fantasy’s growing pains in the medium of television. CBS was to recall the flood of angry and confused letters its offices received after the airing of “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” on Studio One when it came time to restage the play for Twilight Zone. Producer Herbert Hirschman remembered Rose’s play from its appearance on Studio One and approached Rose about staging the play on The Twilight Zone. Rose held little affinity for fantasy but had enormous respect for Rod Serling and agreed to terms to bring “Horace Ford” to The Twilight Zone. Rose may also have felt a need to further reconcile with Rod Serling after a brief row between the writers the previous year over the article “Can a TV Writer Keep His Integrity?” by Edith Efron (TV Guide, April 21, 1962). In it, Rose and Serling were pitted against one another in a debate concerning writer integrity in television, with Rose holding out for the standards of disappearing dramatic anthology series such as Playhouse 90 and Studio One while Serling expressed the desire to compromise in order to adjust to changing tastes and demands of the audience. The article’s writer framed Serling’s position as one of abandoning the integrity of “serious” drama in order to produce science fiction and fantasy material which was beneath him and not worthy of his talents. Although Rose’s written response to the article was laudatory, Serling’s was blunt in its displeasure, prompting Rose to write Serling in order to ensure the two writers maintained their amiable personal and professional relationship.
Herbert Hirschman assigned “Horace Ford” to Abner Biberman (1909-1977), an actor since the thirties who began directing film and television in the fifties. Biberman was a stylish director whose talents behind the camera are also evidenced by his work on “The Dummy” and, later, on the fifth season episodes “Number 12 Looks Just Like You” and “I Am the Night – Color Me Black.” Biberman chiefly directed western and crime series but was versatile enough to handle straight drama, comedy, and science fiction. He directed the first season The Outer Limits episode “The Human Factor.”
As far as Rose’s original ending went, it would not be allowed to air that way again and perhaps cause another wave of outraged viewers. The play was filmed for The Twilight Zone as Rose had originally written it but both the network and producer Herbert Hirschman, viewing the episode prior to broadcast, strongly suggested a revised ending. Rose obliged and wrote the additional material which sees Laura recovering Horace from his nightmare in the past. Rose, likely not happy changing the ending but also not wanting to field any more queries about the meaning of the play, has Laura clearly state the theme of the play in dialogue.
The reader will remember the problems which Rod Serling’s time-travel fantasy “The Time Element” experienced at the network, where it was first shelved before fighting off resistance from the network and sponsor prior to its appearance on The Westinghouse Desilu Playhouse. By the time of the episode’s airing in 1958, however, audiences were much more in-tune with the type of grounded fantasy represented by “Horace Ford” and “The Time Element.” The audience response to Serling’s play was so overwhelmingly positive that it forced CBS to take another look at Serling’s proposal for a continuing series of fantasy plays, paving the way for the creation of The Twilight Zone.
           
            Pat Hingle’s performance as Horace Ford is likely the most divisive element in the play. Questions naturally arise about the character: How was Horace able to court and marry a woman like Laura? How was Horace able to secure a job, even for a toy manufacturer which would naturally require some semblance of professionalism in the hiring process? The best way of viewing the character, and appreciating Hingle’s excellent performance, is to accept that by the time the viewer is brought into Horace’s world, his behavior has progressed to an extreme degree. Where Horace may have always been a bit on the dreamy and immature side, he has now given himself over completely to his nostalgic fantasy. The episode is best viewed as a devastating portrait of a nervous breakdown, albeit aided by genuine fantasy, which nicely aligns the play with thematically related episodes such as “Walking Distance,” “A Stop at Willoughby,” and “The Trouble with Templeton.” There is a palpable tension to all the performances in the play and many scenes, particularly Mrs. Ford’s breakdown at the news of Horace’s firing, play out with the pleasantly unnerving quality of the older, more melodramatic television drama, belying the play’s provenance in a program from nearly a decade earlier.
            Hingle was born Martin Patterson Hingle on July 19, 1924 in Miami, Florida. Raised by a single mother, they moved around and eventually landed in Texas where Hingle became involved with the Drama Department at the University of Texas in Austin. A move to New York followed university where Hingle found steady work on stage and in the emerging medium of television. Hingle began his television career on Suspense, including an appearance in the Rod Serling-scripted episode “Nightmare at Ground Zero” (1953). Hingle later appeared in Serling’s television film Carol for Another Christmas (1964) and in an episode of Serling’s introspective western The Loner, “The Mourners for Johnny Sharp, Part 1” (1966). Appearances on a variety of anthology series included a role in Henry Slesar’s Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode “Night of the Execution” (1957), and the lead in a Play of the Week production of Reginald Rose’s “Black Monday” in 1961. Hingle reconnected with Rose with two appearances on The Defenders.
Hingle held connections with nearly all of his co-performers in “Horace Ford.” He performed alongside Vaughn Taylor in live television dramas, knew Phillip Pine personally, and previously performed with Ruth White and Nan Martin, the latter appearing alongside Hingle on Broadway in Archibald MacLeish’s J.B. and again playing Hingle’s wife on The Fugitive in “Search in a Windy City” (1964).
            Hingle is likely best-known for his four stints as Commissioner Gordon in the Batman films (1989-1997) and for appearances in Clint Eastwood films such as Hang ‘Em High, The Gauntlet, and Sudden Impact. Hingle also had a memorable appearance in Stephen King’s Maximum Overdrive (1986). He died on January 3, 2009 in Carolina Beach, North Carolina.
           
Nan Martin was born on July 15, 1927 in Decatur, Illinois. She began a career in television in 1952 in an episode of Schlitz Playhouse. Martin reconnected with Reginald Rose for an episode of The Defenders, “Climate of Evil,” and appeared in two episodes of The Twilight Zone revival series, the first season episode “If She Dies” and the second season adaptation of Theodore Sturgeon’s “A Saucer of Loneliness.” Horror film fans likely remember Martin as the nun who relates Freddy Krueger’s disturbing origin in A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987). Martin died in Malibu on March 4, 2010.

Ruth White (1914-1969) memorably portrays Horace Ford’s frightened mother who is more concerned with the disturbance in her own living conditions than in the greater consequences of her son’s apparent mental breakdown. White is perhaps best known for playing Mrs. Dubose in To Kill a Mockingbird (1962). A versatile character actress in both film and television, White did not begin appearing on screen until her mid-30s due to having to care for an ailing parent. She began on television in mystery/suspense series such as The Clock, Lights Out, Hands of Mystery, Danger, and Suspense. White appeared in dramatic anthology series as well, including an appearance on Studio One in Reginald Rose’s “The Remarkable Incident at Carson Corners.” White appeared alongside Twilight Zone performer Milton Selzer in the episode “20/20” of the short-lived, Roald Dahl-hosted anthology series ‘Way Out. White appeared in two episodes of Rose’s The Defenders and reconnected with Pat Hingle alongside Clint Eastwood for Hang ‘Em High (1968), directed by TZ’s Ted Post. White won an Emmy for Supporting Actress for the Hallmark Hall of Fame production of “Little Moon of Alban” (1964).

            Phillip Pine (1920-2006) found a niche on television playing villains and mobsters, much like his previous role on The Twilight Zone in the first season episode “The Four of Us Are Dying.” Pine began acting in films in the late forties but it was on the small screen where he made his name, appearing in a variety of series which included much genre work. Pine appeared on Tales of Tomorrow, Science Fiction Theatre, Alfred Hitchcock Presents (“The Safe Place”), One Step Beyond (“Where Are They?”), The Outer Limits (“The Hundred Days of the Dragon”), Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, The Invaders, Star Trek (“The Savage Curtain”), and an episode of the Richard Matheson-developed series Circle of Fear (“The Ghost of Potter’s Field”).

            Vaughn Taylor (1911-1983) is certainly a familiar face to The Twilight Zone viewers as Taylor logged five appearances on the series, previously appearing in a very similar role as boss to a troubled employee in the first season episode “Time Enough at Last” (Taylor also made a memorable appearance as Janet Leigh’s boss in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960)). Taylor was nearly unrecognizable as the southern sorcerer Teague in “Still Valley.” He portrayed the eccentric salesman in Ray Bradbury’s “I Sing the Body Electric” and turned in a moody and ominous final performance on the series in the fifth season episode “The Self-Improvement of Salvadore Ross.” Taylor was a hugely prolific television performer and a staple of anthology series. Early genre work included appearances on The Clock, Tales of Tomorrow, Lights Out, and Inner Sanctum. He later appeared in two episodes of Boris Karloff’s Thriller, “Choose a Victim” and “Cousin Tundifer,” as well as The Alfred Hitchcock Hour episode “The Long Silence,” co-scripted by Charles Beaumont from Hilda Lawrence’s story “Composition for Four Hands,” and two episodes of The Outer Limits, “The Guests” and “Expanding Human.”

            Viewers will likely be divided on the effectiveness of “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” due to the character of Horace, the exaggerated aspect of Pat Hingle’s performance, and (perhaps) the overly familiar nature of the play’s theme and fantasy elements. For this viewer, the play remains a fascinating character study and an emotionally resonant exploration of certain truths of the human experience, anchored by fine performances, a strong, psychologically probing script, and an engaging balance of the whimsical and the grim. Although the theme of the episode, that youth is often harsher than we remember, may not resonate with all viewers, everyone can relate to the power that memory exerts over us, and the way that our experiences shape us, not only in how it was but also how we remember it to have been. The episode rewards repeat viewings and the sensitive viewer comes away enriched by the play’s timeless themes. “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” is a wonderful time capsule from the days of early television drama when the medium was raised to an art form by writers like Reginald Rose and Rod Serling.         

Grade: B

Grateful acknowledgment to:
-Six Television Plays by Reginald Rose (Simon and Schuster, 1956)
-The Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic by Martin Grams, Jr. (OTR, 2008)
-Forgotten Gems from The Twilight Zone, Volume 2, ed. Andrew Ramage (BearManor Media, 2015)
-The Rod Serling Memorial Foundation (rodserling.com)

Notes:
Jerry Davis as Hermy Brandt
-Abner Biberman also directed the third season episode “The Dummy” and the fifth season episodes “Number 12 Looks Just Like You” and “I Am the Night – Color Me Black.”
-Nan Martin appeared in two segments from the first revival Twilight Zone series: “If She Dies” and “A Saucer of Loneliness.”
-Phillip Pine also appeared in the first season episode “The Four of Us Are Dying.”
-Vaughn Taylor appeared in four additional episodes of the series: “Time Enough at Last,” “Still Valley,” “I Sing the Body Electric,” and “The Self-Improvement of Salvadore Ross.”
-“The Incredible World of Horace Ford” was adapted as a Twilight Zone Radio Drama starring Mike Starr.

-JP

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

"The Dummy"

Jerry Etherson (Cliff Robertson) and Willy
“The Dummy”
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.”

 Summary:
            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)


Notes:
--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