"Long Distance Call"

Lili Darvas and Billy Mumy

"Long Distance Call"

Season Two, Episode 58

Original Air Date: March 31, 1961

Cast:

Chris Bayles: Philip Abbott

Sylvia Bayles: Patricia Smith

Grandma Bayles: Lili Darvas

Billy Bayles: Billy Mumy

Shirley, the Babysitter: Jenny Maxwell

Dr. Unger: Henry Hunter

Mr. Peterson: Reid Hammond

Attendant: Lew Brown

1st Fireman: Bob McCord

2nd Fireman: Jim Turley

Nurse: Jutta Parr

Crew:

Writers: William Idelson & Charles Beaumont (based on a story and script by William Idelson)

Director: James Sheldon

Producer: Buck Houghton
Associate Producer: Del Reisman

Art Direction: Robert Tyler Lee
Set Decoration: Buck Henshaw
Technical Director: Jim Brady
Assoc. Director: James Clark
Casting: Ethel Winant

Music: Stock

And Now, Mr. Serling:

"Next week, Mr. Charles Beaumont and Mr. William Idelson deliver a story on your doorstep with the title 'Long Distance Call.' It's uniquely a flesh and fantasy tale involving a small boy, a toy telephone, and the incredible faith of a child. I hope you're around next week at the usual time, which, depending on where you are, varies, and in the usual place, the one that never varies, the uncharted regions of the Twilight Zone."

Rod Serling's Opening Narration:

"As must be obvious, this is a house hovered over by Mr. Death, that omnipresent player to the third and final act of every life. And it's been said, and probably rightfully so, that what follows this life is one of unfathomable mysteries, an area of darkness which we the living reserve for the dead, or so it is said. For in a moment, a child will try to cross that bridge which separates light and shadow, and of course he must take the only known route, that indistinct highway through the region we call the Twilight Zone."

Summary:

            Billy Bayles receives a toy telephone on his fifth birthday from his doting grandmother. It is apparent that Grandmother thinks of little Billy as her own son even though Billy's father, her son, is the head of the household in which they all live. Billy's mother seems resentful of the grandmother's doting nature and of the grandmother's attempts to monopolize the young boy's attention.

            Soon after the birthday party, Grandmother's health takes a turn for the worse and she dies. Billy is saddened by this turn of events. Sometime later, his mother hears him excitedly talking on his new toy telephone. When asked to whom he is talking, Billy tells her that he is talking to Grandma. Though the mother is worried by this behavior, Billy's father tells her that the boy's behavior is simply a make-believe game the boy is playing in order to cope with the death of his grandmother.

            The issue becomes serious when Billy is nearly hit by a passing motorist on the street in front of their home. It turns out that Billy willingly ran into the road. When questioned, Billy says that "someone" told him to run into the road. Billy's mother fears the worst. When next she sees him talking on his toy telephone, she sneaks up from behind and takes it from him. She places the phone to her ear for only a moment before dropping it in horror. She tells her husband that she could hear grandmother on the other end, breathing into the toy telephone.

            Billy, under the impression that his mother has broken his toy telephone, rushes from the house and jumps into a nearby fish pond. He is pulled from the water and medical attendants desperately attempt to keep him alive and breathing while Billy's father performs a final desperate act. Going into Billy's room, he takes the toy telephone and pleads with his dead mother to spare Billy's young life. The spectral hold of the grandmother is released and Billy is resuscitated.

Rod Serling's Closing Narration:

"A toy telephone, an act of faith, a set of improbable circumstances, all combine to probe a mystery, to fathom a depth, to send a facet of light into a dark after-region, to be believed or disbelieved depending on your frame of reference. A fact or fantasy, a substance or a shadow, but all of it very much a part of the Twilight Zone."

Commentary:

            "Long Distance Call" is the last of the six videotaped episodes of The Twilight Zone to air and easily the best of the lot. Of all the limitations of videotape, the one essential to the success or failure of a particular episode was the format's inability to render physical scope and scale. The more successful videotaped episodes ("The Lateness of the Hour," "Static," "Long Distance Call") were intimate in scope, utilizing small casts and simple interior set designs to craft small scale drama similar to successful live television. When required to convey complex scale, such as an outdoor setting or weather ("The Whole Truth,” “Night of the Meek,” "Twenty Two") the videotape format lacked the necessary balance of photographic effects and versatility of movement required for a fantasy-based show. For The Twlight Zone, which was filmed at MGM, videotape sometimes hideously betrayed the standing sets, essentially destroying the suspension of disbelief required for the show to be successful. Despite videotape, "Long Distance Call" has aged finely due to the combination of an original and effective premise, an able cast, and memorable production design.

William Idelson in "A World of Difference"

            William "Bill" Idelson (1919-2007), a former radio and occasional television actor then working in real estate and trying to break into television writing, first got the idea for "Long Distance Call" during his son's third birthday party. Idelson's mother gave the young boy a toy telephone. When Idelson later observed his son play-talking to Grandma on the toy telephone, the incident sparked his imagination. He sat down and wrote a story titled "Party Line" before adapting the story into a teleplay titled "Direct Line." 

    Idelson appeared in a supporting role in the first season episode "A World of Difference," a notable example of a performer, outside of series creator Rod Serling, who acted in one episode and wrote another. Idelson became friends with Richard Matheson, writer of "A World of Difference," and gave his "Direct Line" script to Matheson for feedback. Matheson was enthusiastic about the script's potential and submitted the script to series producer Buck Houghton on Idelson's behalf.

            What happened next concerning the script is where information becomes contradictory. Both Marc Scott Zicree, author of The Twilight Zone Companion (1982), and, to a lesser extent, Martin Grams, Jr., author of The Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic (2008), rely on interviews with Idelson, conducted across a span of several years, to tell the story of the episode's creation. Idelson also provided, alongside actor Bill Mumy, an audio commentary for the definitive DVD release of the episode. The problem is that Idelson's recollection on the creation of the script changes between interviews and again in the commentary. Also, his memory of events do not coincide with verifiable information, particularly concerning events in the life of co-writer Charles Beaumont. 
            According to Idelson, soon after Richard Matheson submitted "Direct Line" to the series on Idelson's behalf, Charles Beaumont called to offer Idelson a partnership in writing the teleplay for production. At the time, Beaumont was contractually obligated to provide five teleplays to the series. The final teleplay he submitted, "Dead Man's Shoes," in November, 1960, written with and based on a story by Beaumont's friend OCee Ritch, was intended to be the final videotaped episode. Producer Buck Houghton, however, was unsatisfied with the script for "Dead Man's Shoes," as well as with its potential on videotape, and elected to push production of "Dead Man's Shoes" back so that the script could be rewritten and the episode filmed instead of videotaped. The result was that production needed another script. They had Idelson's "Direct Line" in hand and were interested in producing it as the final videotaped episode but wanted rewrites to be performed before the script was ready to go before the camera. Houghton asked Beaumont to do the rewrites with Idelson.
            Idelson, feeling that he had submitted a production-ready script, had no desire to rewrite his script, to work with Beaumont, or to share credit and pay for the sale. According to Idelson's recollections, he inquired of Beaumont about the fate of the script Matheson had submitted. Beaumont explained that Cayuga Productions had lost Idelson's script and had asked Beaumont to come in and craft a new one in collaboration with Idelson. 
           In a final effort to retain sole possession of his story property, Idelson offered to provide Cayuga with another copy of the same script Matheson had previously submitted on his behalf. Beaumont, relaying the request to producer Buck Houghton, reported back to Idelson that the request was denied. Houghton and Rod Serling liked the idea behind the story but insisted Beaumont be brought in to rework the story with Idelson. Idelson relented and submitted to the task of reworking his story with Beaumont for an equal share of the credit. Needless to say, Idelson felt taken advantage of and focused most of his resulting anger on Charles Beaumont.

            Beaumont helped friends break into television writing by using his connections in the industry to assist with their first sales. This often required Beaumont to rewrite scripts or expand upon story treatments in order to produce production-ready work. Beaumont helped writers George Clayton Johnson and OCee Ritch break into writing for The Twilight Zone by submitting Johnson's stories to the series ("Execution," "The Four of Us are Dying") and co-scripting works with Ritch ("Static," "Dead Man's Shoes"). Beaumont did run into trouble when it came to co-scripting the episode "The Prime Mover" with George Clayton Johnson, based on Johnson's unpublished story, when the episode aired with credit given only to Beaumont. 
            After a disastrous campaign calling for unsolicited scripts early in the show’s production, Cayuga Productions did not accept scripts from writers with no agent and no previous writing credits, even if those scripts came with a recommendation from one of the show's writers. Bringing Beaumont in to perform rewrites of Idelson's script was, in the minds of production, a way for the series to ensure quality work. Even when Beaumont had earlier managed to sell George Clayton Johnson's stories to the series, the stories were accepted on the condition that Rod Serling produce the finished teleplays from the initial story treatments. Johnson was not given the opportunity to produce his own teleplay until finding leverage to do so. Johnson had sold a story titled "Sea Change," about a man whose severed hand grows a body and attempts to destroy him, to the series only to have the show's sponsor reject the story as too gruesome. Producer Buck Houghton tried to get Johnson to buy back "Sea Change." Johnson bartered with Houghton by agreeing to buy back the story if he were also allowed to write the teleplay for the episode that became "A Penny for Your Thoughts." Houghton agreed to the deal and Johnson went on to write such episodes as "A Game of Pool," "Kick the Can," and "Nothing in the Dark." 

    It is true that Beaumont occasionally collaborated with friends and shared pay but not credit. This first became a practice with Beaumont when the writer became overwhelmed by writing commitments and later when he became severely hindered, beginning in late 1962, with what is believed to have been early-onset Alzheimer’s Disease. William Idelson's problem with working with Beaumont was unrelated to this, however, as Idelson was given credit on screen and in Rod Serling's preview narration. Idelson was simply irked that his script was to be accepted only under the condition that he work with another writer to rework the material and share credit for the story. However contentious the conditions under which the script for "Long Distance Call" was created, the result is one of the show's most tightly-written, disturbing, and ultimately redemptive tales. 

            Two significant changes were made to the episode during filming. One was that the grandmother's death scene was shifted from a hospital to the home. Another, more significant change came at the request of Rod Serling during filming. William Idelson told author Marc Scott Zicree that Serling did not like the final speech given by the father into the toy telephone. As originally written, the speech focused on the father and his own relationship with the grandmother. Serling wanted it changed to focus on Billy, the boy fighting for his life in the grip of the dead grandmother. The original scene as written was tried and proved largely ineffective. A rewrite by Idelson and Beaumont was performed on-set, requiring Billy Mumy, a minor, to work longer than was legally allowed. 

            Idelson initially reported that the rewrite was performed on-set by Beaumont and himself but later, in an interview included in Martin Grams, Jr.'s book, claimed that the rewrite was performed by Rod Serling and that Richard Matheson may also have had something to do with it, essentially removing Beaumont from the scene. Idelson also claimed that at this time, in early 1961, Beaumont was unable to do the rewrite as a result of his early onset Alzheimer's, which had grown so advanced that the writer was unable even to press the keys on his typewriter. Idelson confused his dates in an attempt to minimize Beaumont's role in the creation of the episode. Beaumont's struggles with the degenerative disease that ultimately took his life did not begin in earnest until late 1962 and into 1963. Though Beaumont had collaborated on several earlier scripts for The Twilight Zone, he began farming out his writing commitments for the show to Jerry Sohl and John Tomerlin beginning in 1963 as a result of his declining health. In terms of the series timeline, Beaumont was essentially healthy through the third season. At the time of the writing, videotaping, and airing of "Long Distance Call," Beaumont was still a healthy and active writer for the series. Idelson even went so far as to later remove Beaumont from his memory of the airing of the episode. As initially told to Marc Scott Zicree, Idelson stated that Beaumont, Richard Matheson, and fellow writer William F. Nolan were present at Idelson's home when the show first aired. By the time Idelson came to record the DVD commentary for the episode, he claimed that Beaumont was "a vegetable" in the Motion Picture Country Home at the time the episode aired. Considering Beaumont did not even submit to medical exams until the summer of 1963, and was not entered into the Motion Picture Country Home until March of 1965, it is reasonable to assume that he was not confined to a rest home when "Long Distance Call" aired in March of 1961.

            It is unfortunate that Idelson felt taken advantage of in not receiving sole credit and pay for the episode, and that his experience on the show was not an altogether pleasant one. There is no question that the idea for the story was Idelson's alone. Idelson's original teleplay was later published in volume one of Forgotten Gems from The Twilight Zone, edited by Andrew Ramage (2005). Idelson went on to become a highly paid comedy writer for television shows such as M*A*S*H, The Andy Griffith Show, The Odd Couple, and The Dick Van Dyke Show. He also scripted the 1963 science fiction thriller The Crawling Hand based on his original story, but again was forced to share writing credit with director Herbert L. Strock and two additional writers.   

            

            Bill Mumy (b. 1954), who portrayed Billy Bayles in "Long Distance Call," remains one of the most recognizable and fondly remembered actors from the series, chiefly on the strength of the second of his three appearances on The Twilight Zone, the terrifying third season episode "It's a Good Life," in which Mumy plays a God-like boy with a horrifying grip on a small town. Mumy also appeared in Rod Serling's excellent fifth season episode "In Praise of Pip" alongside Jack Klugman. Mumy would go on to even greater fame in the role of young Will Robinson on Irwin Allen's Lost in Space (1965-1968). Mumy returned to The Twilight Zone in the third incarnation of the series when he appeared in "It's Still a Good Life," a sequel to the original series episode, in 2003.

            For the role of the grandmother, Hungarian actress Lili Darvas (1902-1974) was cast. Darvas found fame in her native Hungary and also on the German stage, with Max Reinhardt’s company, before fleeing Germany in 1938 as a result of the Nazi persecution of European Jews. The doting nature of Darvas's character creates an ominous mood and a disorienting quality to the relationship between the characters. It is highly effective and though Darvas is only on screen for half the episode, she is unforgettable. The viewer can easily imagine the sound of her distinctly accented voice on the other end of the toy telephone.

            "Long Distance Call" is a subtle but very effective episode. Rarely does director James Sheldon show anything explicit in the episode, electing instead to allow the viewer to fill in the details. Two scenes in particular were cut from the episode for fear of being too strong for television at the time. The first was the death of the grandmother. As written, she was to die on screen. As taped, she dies off screen and her death is signaled by the cry of the boy, a much more effective choice. The second cut scene was one in which Billy Mumy was seen floating face down in the fish pond into which he threw himself at the suggestion of the dead grandmother. Mumy recalled filming the scene but, as taped, the boy in the pond is only hinted at. By keeping the action subtle and psychologically suggestive instead of explicit, the episode remains as effective today as when it first aired. 

            A final piece of the production that works exceptionally well for the episode is the set design by art director Robert Tyler Lee, especially the design of Billy's room. The design not only reinforces the idea of Billy's innocence and vulnerability but also contrasts the happy nature of the boy's room (smiling clowns on the floor, etc.) with the dire nature of the plot, which remains one of the show’s most daring in its approach to the suicide of a child as prompted by a ghostly grandmother. Billy's room is also the perfect stage for the all-important climactic scene in which the father, played by Philip Abbott, pleads into the toy telephone for the life of his son. 

            As was unfortunately becoming increasingly common for Rod Serling and company, the script for "Long Distance Call" brought about two potential plagiarism lawsuits against Cayuga Production. Both eventually came to nothing, but for a time caused trouble for the company. Producer Buck Houghton recalled having to spend considerable time shielding the show, Rod Serling, and the other writers from near constant accusations of plagiarism, many of which came from writers who had previously submitted unsolicited manuscripts to the series and had been rejected. Some episodes, such as Charles Beaumont's "Miniature" and Rod Serling's "Sounds and Silences" were kept out of syndication for years due to litigation introduced against the series. "Long Distance Call" is a highly original concept and though the idea of a toy becoming animate or malevolent is a commonly used story trope, the way in which William Idelson used the concept was wholly original.

            The result is a highly personal script from William Idelson (who went so far as to state that the son in the story is his son, and the grandmother his mother) refined by the talents of Charles Beaumont, a fine director, and a talented cast to create an unusually dark and effective episode which, despite its videotape limitations, remains a substantially creepy offering from the series. Though the episode would have benefited from an original score, the effective use of, mostly, Bernard Herrman's first season music cues lends the episode an appropriate atmosphere. Director James Sheldon also gives the episode some style with innovative use of the videotape format, most obviously displayed in a rising shot near the end of the episode when actor Philip Abbott has collapsed after begging his dead mother to spare the life of his son.

            "Long Distance Call" is a fine episode all around. It avoids the kind of hokum that would have aged it poorly and remains the finest of the videotaped episodes, proving that although videotape was an unwise endeavor for the show, saving $5,000 an episode or not, the limitations of the format could occasionally be exceeded to produce a quality episode.

Grade: A

Acknowledgements: 

--The Twilight Zone Companion (2nd ed.) by Marc Scott Zicree (Silman-James, 1992)

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

--Forgotten Gems from The Twilight Zone, volume one, edited by Andrew Ramage (BearManor Media, 2005)

Notes:

-William Idelson appeared in the first season episode "A World of Difference." 

-Billy Mumy also appears in the third season episode "It's a Good Life" (again with director James Sheldon) and in the fifth season episode "In Praise of Pip."

-Philip Abbott also appears in the fourth season episode "The Parallel." He appeared in Rod Serling's "Noon on Doomsday," an original drama that was shown on April 25, 1956 on The United States Steel Hour. This drama was infamously censored as it concerned the horrific murder of Emmett Till. Also appearing in the drama were fellow Zone actors Jack Warden, Albert Salmi, and Everett Sloane. 

-Director James Sheldon also directed the second season episodes "A Penny for Your Thoughts" and "The Whole Truth," as well as the third season episodes "It's a Good Life," "Still Valley" and, with William Claxton, "I Sing the Body Electric."
-Lew Brown appeared in an episode of Rod Serling's Night Gallery titled "You Can Come Up Now, Mrs. Millikan."
-"Long Distance Call" was adapted as a Twilight Zone Radio Drama starring Hal Sparks. 

       

-JP

"Static"

Ed Lindsay (actor Dean Jagger) tunes in to the Twilight Zone

"Static"

Season Two, Episode 56
Original Air Date: March 10, 1961

Cast:
Ed Lindsay: Dean Jagger
Vinnie Broun: Carmen Matthews
Professor Ackerman: Robert Emhardt
Roscoe Bragg: Arch Johnson
Mrs. Nielsen: Alice Pierce
Miss Meredith: Lillian O'Malley
Mr. Llewellyn: J. Pat O'Malley
Boy: Stephen Talbot
Junk Dealer: Clegg Holt
Rock & Roll Singer: Jerry Fuller
Real Estate Pitchman: Eddie Marr
Girl in Commercial: Diane Strom
Disc Jockey (voice): Bob Crane
TV/Radio Announcer: Roy Bowan
Man #1: Bob Duggan
Man #2: Jay Overholts

Crew:

Writer: Charles Beaumont (based on an unpublished story by OCee Ritch)

Director: Buzz Kulik

Producer: Buck Houghton
Associate Producer: Del Reisman
Art Direction: Robert Tyler Lee
Set Decoration: Buck Henshaw
Technical Director: Jim Brady
Assoc. Director: James Clark
Casting: Ethel Winant
Music: Stock

And Now, Mr. Serling:

"Item of consequence: a radio. A carryover from that other era when quiz shows went up to only sixty-four dollars and entertainment was aimed only at the ears. Mr. Charles Beaumont has given us a most unusual story called 'Static.' We invite you to watch Mr. Dean Jagger fiddle with a few of these knobs, change a few stations, and find a couple of programs that are broadcast only in The Twilight Zone."

Rod Serling's Opening Narration:

"No one ever saw one quite like that because that's a very special sort of radio. In its day, circa 1935, its type was one of the most elegant consoles on the market. Now, with its fabric-covered speakers, its peculiar yellow dial, its serrated knobs, it looks quaint and a little strange. Mr. Ed Lindsay is going to find out how strange very soon, when he tunes in to the Twilight Zone."

Summary:

            Ed Lindsay, an elderly bachelor, lives in a boarding house in which the other tenants, also elderly, spend their waning days and nights parked on couches and chairs taking in endless hours of television. Lindsay, bored with this routine, goes down into the basement of the boarding house and retrieves his old radio, a hulking set that is over twenty five years old. He brings the radio up to his room and, to his astonishment and delight, is able to catch many of the old radio programs he remembers from his younger years, programs which have long since gone off the air. When he tells the other tenants, they scoff at the idea. Most frustrating for Ed is that he is only able to hear the old radio shows when he is alone and is unable to prove to anyone else in the house that his old radio is working some sort of magic.

            Vinnie Broun is an elderly maid that was once engaged to marry Ed many years ago. Circumstances prevented the marriage and thereafter Vinnie and Ed have been living tensely under the same roof, having grown into tired, bickering adversaries. Vinnie thinks Ed is imagining the broadcasts of all those old radio shows and tells him in a frank confession that she believes it is a result of them missing out on their one chance at happiness all those years ago. Ed dismisses the idea the he is imagining the broadcasts.

            In an effort to stop Ed's descent into what she believes to be an unhealthy fixation, Vinnie sells Ed's radio to a junk dealer. When he finds out, Ed is furious and immediately retrieves his radio, having to buy his own property back from the junk dealer. Fearing the radio won't work the way it did before, Ed lugs it home and fires it up. It still works and even better than before. When Ed calls Vinnie up to hear the old broadcasts it is a young, vibrant version of Vinnie that appears in his doorway. Ed, now a young man again, realizes that they’ve gone back in time to be given a second chance.

Rod Serling's Closing Narration:

"Around and around she goes and where she stops nobody knows. All Ed Lindsay knows is that he desperately wanted a second chance and finally got it, through a strange and wonderful time machine called a radio, in the Twlight Zone."

Commentary:

            In an interview with Buzz Kulik, director of "Static," author Marc Scott Zicree (The Twilight Zone Companion) suggests that "Static" is an episode which presents a theme opposite from that explored in the earlier episode "The Trouble with Templeton." Whereas "The Trouble with Templeton" says you can't go back again (as does a bevy of episodes from "Walking Distance" to "The Incredible World of Horace Ford"), "Static" shows that, with a little magic, and a lot of hope, you definitely can go back. A more apt comparison is perhaps the highly regarded third season episode "Kick the Can," scripted by close friend of and frequent collaborator with Charles Beaumont, writer George Clayton Johnson. In that episode, the children's game of kick-the-can transforms the aged in a nursing home back into their younger selves. "Static" displays the quintessential Twilight Zone set up, the intrusion of a magical or fantastic element, in a highly realistic setting. In other words, ordinary people caught up in extraordinary circumstances. It is interesting to note here, and it has been noted before in other studies of the show, that the main writers of the show were all young men in their early to mid 30s and yet returned time and again to create episodes dealing with the elderly, exploring what it means to grow old with astonishing insight into the regret and sorrow and, ultimately, hope that accompanies the aging process. "Static" shares a lot of thematic ground with other Zone episodes that center on elderly characters, such as the aforementioned "Kick the Can," "Nothing in the Dark," "The Hunt," “The Trade-Ins,” and "Night Call," among others; each being an example from the core writers of the show.  

            "Static" began as an unpublished short story with the evocative title "Tune in Yesterday" by OCee Ritch, a friend of and frequent collaborator with Twilight Zone writer Charles Beaumont. Ritch contributed to Beaumont's book on motor racing, The Omnibus of Speed: An Introduction to the World of Motor Sport, edited with William F. Nolan (G.P. Putnam's, 1958; "The Golden Days of Gilmore") and collaborated with Beaumont on nostalgic essays for Playboy and other magazines (published under Beaumont's name alone and later collected in Beaumont's volume, Remember, Remember? (Macmillan, 1963)). The two writers also collaborated on television scripts beyond their two efforts for The Twilight Zone, with "The Long Silence" for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour (with William D. Gordon and based on "Composition for Four Hands" by Hilda Lawrence) as well as a teleplay for Boris Karloff's Thriller, "Guillotine," based on a story by Cornell Woolrich. A final collaboration was "Gate to Nowhere" for the dramatic series Channing. Ritch's name does not appear in the credits for any of these efforts. In 1962, Ritch had a small role in director Roger Corman's adaptation of Beaumont's 1959 novel, The Intruder, starring William Shatner. Other Beaumont friends William F. Nolan and George Clayton Johnson also appear in the film. Ritch wrote an article on making the film for the December, 1961 issue of Rogue magazine (under the simple title "The Intruder"). 
              Ritch and Beaumont initially bonded over their shared love of automobiles (Ritch published several motorcycle repair manuals for the Chilton series in the 1960's) and discovered a shared passion for fantasy and nostalgia. Beaumont so liked the original title of "Static" that he re-titled his nostalgic essay on radio, originally published as "Requiem for Radio" in Playboy, as "Tune in Yesterday" for its appearance in Remember, Remember? 
            As recorded in Marc Scott Zicree's The Twilight Zone Companion, OCee Ritch got the idea for "Static" while attending a party thrown by writer Richard Matheson, also a frequent contributor to The Twilight Zone. At the party was an old time radio fan who performed bits from some of the old shows. Ritch struck upon the idea of being able to simply tune in to those old radio shows that were no longer on the air and set out to write a fantasy story around the concept. Instead of submitting "Tune in Yesterday" as a short story to a fiction magazine, Charles Beaumont convinced Ritch to submit the story for production on The Twilight Zone. Producer Buck Houghton accepted the story upon Beaumont's recommendation as well as on the condition that Beaumont wrote the teleplay adaptation. During the first two seasons, Houghton was particularly wary to let other writers in on the show. See his relationship with George Clayton Johnson for instance. Johnson had been selling stories to the series since the first season but had to bargain his way in to writing original teleplays for the show. 

            Beaumont took the adaptation as an opportunity to change Ritch's story to suit the show as well as Beaumont’s own writing style. Whereas Ritch's main character was an unhappily married man looking to escape into the past, Beaumont changed him to an unhappy bachelor that wanted a second chance to correct past mistakes. Beaumont also allowed changes that would take ironic shots at the television industry, the very medium which supported the show. It was an industry in which Beaumont worked and thrived but for which he held no love, made apparent in the later essay on old time radio, "Requiem for Radio." Beaumont presents the tenants of the boarding house as the dull slaves of routine, whiling away their days in front of the television whereas the introduction of the radio in the episode drives all the action, is the catalyst for heated conversation and startling confession, and inspires excitement and laughter. The commercials presented on television are absurd and humorous caricatures of the type of advertising common to the 1960's. It is made clear that Beaumont felt television an unfit successor to radio. As Ed Lindsay poignantly states in the episode, radio is “a world that has to be believed to be seen.”

            To create the genuine feel of old time radio, the episode utilized recordings from old broadcasts (The F.D.R. fireside chat and a segment from The Fred Allen Show) as well as creating new recordings, including the use of a Los Angeles radio announcer named Bob Crane who would later star on the popular television series Hogan's Heroes.

            “Static” hinges so heavily upon a single concept (the magic radio) that a good script and better performances were necessary to keep the action moving smoothly along. Dean Jagger is perfectly cast as Beaumont’s unhappy bachelor and manages to tamper his performance so as not to alienated the viewer by simply playing a one-dimensional grump, but rather like a man trapped in a miserable situation from which derives his ill tempered behavior, particularly toward the character of Vinnie. Jagger portrays the loneliness of a man surrounded by people that, for the most part, he cannot relate to and it lends his character weight as a relatable, if not pitiable, figure. Jagger was born in Ohio on November 7, 1903. After studying acting in Chicago, he found character roles in films and later on television, eventually winning a Best Supporting Actor Academy Award for Twelve O’Clock High (1949). Jagger’s other genre credits include the films Revolt of the Zombies (1936), X: the Unknown (1956) and Alligator (1980), and an episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour. He died in Santa Monica in 1991.

            Ably supporting Jagger are Carmen Matthews as Vinnie Broun and Robert Emhardt as Professor Ackerman. Matthews was born in Philadelphia in 1914 and was trained in the theater. She found early television work in anthology programs such as Kraft Theater and Goodyear Playhouse and continued working in television throughout her career, finding the occasional film role. Her other genre credits include television episodes of Suspense (1952), 'Way Out, six episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, and an episode of Tales from the Darkside. She died in 1995.

             Actor Robert Emhardt amassed an astounding number of credits in theater and television over his long career. He seemed tailored to play villains but found a variety of roles in every type of show on the small screen, from soap operas to westerns to science fiction. He was born in Indianapolis in 1914 and died in California in 1994. His other genre credits include episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Alcoa Presents: One Step Beyond, and the Alfred Hitchcock Hour.

            “Static” remains a memorable episode that is unfortunately given the videotape and stock music treatment and is thus not as memorable as one of the better produced episodes. It is apparent in certain aspects of production, however, that a lot of care was given to making the episode a success. One of the show’s best writer was given the job to adapt the source material and effort was made to replicate the authentic sounds of old time radio. The only major flaw in the episode is the choice to use older actors and attempt to make them look young again through color and makeup processes for the surprise ending. The typical approach to this type of fantasy is to use makeup to age younger actors (see this done effectively in "The Howling Man") and then simply remove the makeup when the time comes to reveal the younger versions of the characters. Often, two different sets of actors are used to achieve the same effect. The makeup department isn’t quite able to convincingly turn back the clock forty years on the two main characters but nevertheless the episode remains effective, with a good script and solid acting all around.

The Twilight Zone was given the radio drama treatment beginning in 2002 with The Twilight Zone Radio Dramas, conceived, produced, and directed by Carl Amari, with episode adaptations by Dennis Etchison. Read our look at this radio series. 

Grade: B

Grateful acknowledgement is made to William F. Nolan for The Work of Charles Beaumont: An Annotated Bibliography and Guide (2nd edition, Borgo Press, 1990) 

Note:

-“Static” was adapted as a The Twilight Zone Radio Drama starring Stan Freberg.

--Jordan Prejean

"Twenty Two"

Barbara Nichols as the tormented Liz Powell

“Twenty Two”

Season Two, Episode 53

Original Air Date: February 10, 1961

Cast:

Liz Powell: Barbara Nichols

Doctor: Jonathan Harris

Barney: Fredd Wayne

Nurse/Stewardess: Arline Sax

Night Duty Nurse: Norma Connolly

Day Duty Nurse: Mary Adams

Airline Agent: Wesley Lau

Ticket Clerk: Angus Duncan

Crew:

Writer: Rod Serling (based on an anecdote in Famous Ghost Stories, edited by Bennett Cerf (1944))

Director: Jack Smight

Producer: Buck Houghton

Associate Producer: Del Reisman

Art Direction: Craig Smith

Set Decoration: Arthur Jeph Parker

Technical Director: Jim Brady

Associate Director: James Clark

Casting: Ethel Winant

Music: Stock

And Now, Mr. Serling:

“This is room 22 and on the other side of its doors lies an adventure that is as fascinating as it is inexplicable.  It’s a story that comes to us from Mr. Bennett Cerf, who describes it as an age-old horror tale whose origin is unknown.  We have dressed it up in some hospital wrappings and enlisted the performance of Miss Barbara Nichols.  Next on the Twilight Zone, ‘Twenty Two.’  Be prepared to be spooked.  It’s that kind of story.”

Rod Serling’s Opening Narration:

“This is Miss Liz Powell.  She’s a professional dancer and she’s in the hospital as a result of overwork and nervous fatigue.  And at this moment we have just finished walking with her in a nightmare.  In a moment she’ll wake up and we’ll remain at her side.  The problem here is that both Miss Powell and you will reach a point where it might be difficult to decide which is reality and which is nightmare.  A problem uncommon perhaps…but rather peculiar…to the Twilight Zone.”

Summary:

               It is the middle of the night.  Liz Powell, a professional dancer, lies awake in a hospital room, her nerves preventing any sort of sleep.  She reaches over towards the nightstand for a glass of water but it slips from her trembling hand, shattering on the floor.  She gets out of bed, walks down the hallway and into the elevator.  When she reaches the basement, she steps off.  Slowly, she walks down the hallway and stops in front of a double door marked MORGUE.  Above the door is the number 22.  Suddenly, the door is thrown open and a woman dressed in a nurse’s uniform appears and says: “Room for one more, honey.”

Powell screams and races back down the hallway to the elevator.

Arline Sax

                The next day Powell is visited by her agent, Barney.  After a conversation about why Barney hasn’t called or come to visit her until now Powell’s doctor enters the room.  Powell insists that her experience walking down to the basement is real.  The doctor, however, believes that Powell is simply having an elaborate dream.  To prove it he brings in the night nurse for the basement floor.  Powell takes one look at her and admits that it is not the woman that she seen in room 22 every night.  To help her break the repetitive dream cycle the doctor suggests to Powell that she change part of the dream.  He suggests that she not reach for the glass of water this time.

                That night as she lies awake in her bed listening to the clock tick, instead of reaching for the glass of water she lights a cigarette but she drops her lighter on the floor.  She reaches down to pick it up, bracing herself on the nightstand and ends up knocking the glass of water to the floor anyway.  The rest of the dream plays out the same way it has every night, with the woman in room 22 telling her that there is “room for one more.”  Back in her room, Powell has to be sedated.

                The next day Powell is being released from the hospital.  The doctor meets her on her way out and insists once more that her experiences were simply elaborate dreams that felt real.  She thanks him and leaves.  In the airport, Powell begins to get the same feeling that she did when she was having her “dreams.”  She learns that she is scheduled for Flight 22.  She buys her ticket and begins to board the plane, feeling in her bones that something is wrong.  Slowly, she walks to the plane as it is beginning to board up for takeoff.  When she gets there the stewardess greets her.  It’s the same woman from her dreams.  “Room for one more, honey,” she says.  Powell screams and runs back inside the airport terminal.  She watches from window as Flight 22 begins to ascend from the runway.  As it takes off the plane bursts into flames.

Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:

“Miss Elizabeth Powell, professional dancer. Hospital diagnosis: acute anxiety brought on by overwork and fatigue.  Prognosis: with rest and care she’ll probably recover.  But the cure to some nightmares is not to be found in known medical journals.  You look for it under potions for bad dreams…to be found in the Twilight Zone.”

Commentary:

“Twenty Two” is an episode which seems, according to many internet message boards and accompanying rating systems, to have strongly resonated with Twilight Zone viewers over the years. This is likely due to both the familiarity of the story and its inherent cleverness. "Twenty Two" is presented as based on a story from Bennett Cerf in the 1944 Random House anthology Famous Ghost Stories, which Cerf edited. Cerf concludes that volume with a miscellany titled "The Current Crop of Ghost Stories," wherein he relates a number of ghostly anecdotes which have been told to him at social gatherings. The first anecdote concerns a modern young woman from New York who visits a plantation in South Carolina. She is awakened in the night by the sounds of horses on the road beneath her bedroom window. There in the moonlight is a horse-drawn hearse. The hearse driver looks up, his hideous face lit by the moon, and says, "There is room for one more!" This happens again the following night and so disturbs the young woman that she flees the house after giving her hosts some lame excuse and makes her way back to New York. The following day she approaches an elevator only to see the densely packed crowd within. "There's room for one more," says the elevator operator. The young woman declines the offer. Shortly after the doors close the elevator cable snaps, sending the elevator crashing to the bottom of the shaft and killing everyone inside. 
       Though the true origin of the "room for one more" story is likely lost to time (folklorist Alvin Schwartz, who included a version of the tale in Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (1981) simply stated: "This legend has circulated for many years in the United States and the British Isles"), the most popular piece of fiction to use the construct is "The Bus-Conductor" by E.F. Benson. Bennett Cerf was likely familiar with that story, as he included Benson's "The Man Who Went Too Far" (1904) in Famous Ghost Stories. "The Bus-Conductor" was first published in the December 1906 issue of the Pall Mall Magazine and included in Benson’s The Room in the Tower and Other Stories (1912). It has since been reprinted dozens of time in numerous anthologies and studies of the supernatural story.

Benson’s story concerns a man who, while visiting a friend in the countryside, dreams of seeing a hearse in the street below his bedroom window. From the hearse emerges an undertaker who makes a beckoning gesture to the man with the uninviting call of “just room for one inside, sir.” Upon leaving the friend's home the following day, the man attempts to board a bus on a street corner. As the doors to the bus open, the bus conductor (who looks exactly like the undertaker from the man's dream) says to him, “just room for one inside, sir.” The man, remembering his encounter the night before, decides against boarding the bus and watches as the bus crashes soon after its departure, killing all on board.

            Benson’s story is a tale that has been told and retold so often and in so many variations that it has entered the cultural consciousness as a piece of folklore rather than a story sprung from the imagination of one writer. Another story with which it shares this similarity is W.W. Jacobs's “The Monkey’s Paw” (1902). These two writers, both of the Edwardian period, are similar in more than one way since both were known in their own time for their humorous fiction and are now remembered as authors of the some of the most startling supernatural fiction of the early 20th century. Besides "The Monkey's Paw," Jacobs wrote a handful of ghost and horror stories, some of which, "The Toll-House" and "The Well," still retain their power to shock and unsettle. Benson wrote several well-regarded horror stories, including “The Room in the Tower,” “Mrs. Amworth,” “Caterpillars,” "The Face," and “The Horror-Horn,” among many more. His supernatural fiction comes recommended and is available in a collected edition.

The average viewer of “Twenty Two” or “The Man in the Bottle” (The Twilight Zone’s version of Jacobs’s “The Monkey’s Paw”) is likely unable to attribute the source of the fiction, yet the stories are instantly familiar to almost every adult in the English speaking world. The allure of adapting “The Bus-Conductor” is its simplicity, as it reads like a fable and, because of this simplicity, can be adapted to fit nearly any time period with only slight variation. This is the quality which undoubtedly drew Rod Serling to add an adaptation of the story to his showcase of the uncanny. The most famous adaptation of the story outside this episode of The Twilight Zone is a segment of the exceptional 1945 Ealing Studios anthology film Dead of Night, a film which remains fondly remembered, primarily upon the strength of the final segment of the film, which is a frightening tale of a malevolent ventriloquist dummy. For more on Dead of Night head over to our discussion of the film. 

        "Twenty Two" is an enjoyable, streamlined effort from Serling and company but it hardly feels like an enduring episode for reasons other than its gimmick which, to those well-read in supernatural literature, was overly familiar even by the time The Twilight Zone put its stamp upon it. The story, which runs seven pages in the collected edition of Benson’s supernatural stories, hardly seems to contain enough to base a twenty five minute episode upon (The Dead of Night version runs a scant 12 minutes). Still, the production crew does a relatively admirable job considering the constraints of the videotape format and the brief material they had to work with. The pleasure of the episode lies in the production design. The hospital, even during the daylight hours when it should be a busy, crowded place, seems somehow vacant and unsettling, giving the episode that indescribable Twilight Zone feel. The production shines in the dream sequences and in the design of the lower level of the hospital. The design is heavily industrial and quite frightening and the effect of the endless corridor beyond the swinging doors to the morgue was a masterstroke. The failure of the design and of the videotape format is when the setting moves out of the hospital. Here the set is unconvincing. Adding to the mess is the fact that the acoustics ring out hollowly in the enclosed environment, betraying the artificiality of the set.

The casting in the episode is fine. Though Serling’s script does not demand much of the actors, all perform admirably.  The most inspired bit of casting is for the night nurse at the morgue in the dream sequences. This was played by actress Arlene Martel (billed as Arlene Sax) and her unique appearance and foreboding manner are unforgettable and lend the episode much of its creepiness. Martel previously appeared in a far less uncanny role in the first season episode, "What You Need." 

            Barbara Nichols is probably best remembered for this episode of The Twilight Zone but is also remembered for a number of small roles, mostly on television, essentially playing the same character, the Brooklyn-voiced blonde bombshell. Nichols began her career on stage in the early 1950s, became a favorite pin-up girl of the GIs, and had her best year in film in 1957 with roles in Pal Joey, Sweet Smell of Success, and The Pajama Game. She landed a regular role in the situation comedy Love That Jill the following year but the show lasted only 13 episodes. In the late 1950s and into the 1960s she found herself taking guest roles on television and in C-grade movies. Her last crowning achievement was on Broadway in Let it Ride in 1961. Complications from two car accidents resulted in liver disease and she passed away on October 5, 1976 at the young age of 47.

Jonathan Harris is deservedly famous for his role as Dr. Zachary Smith on Irwin Allen’s Lost in Space (1965-1968) but managed to amass dozens of credits, mostly in television, from the early 1950s until the early 2000s just before his death in 2002. He has several genre credits including episodes of Lights Out, Land of the Giants, Bewitched, Rod Serling’s Night Gallery, Space Academy, and Battlestar Galactica. Beginning in the 1980s, Harris became an accomplished voice actor working prolifically in children’s programming. He also featured in the second season episode of The Twilight Zone, “The Silence.”

Fredd Wayne was also a fixture on television going back to the early 1950s. He featured in the third season episode of The Twilight Zone “The Arrival” and has genre credits in episodes of Alcoa Presents: One Step Beyond, Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color, and Wonder Woman, but his forte was certainly in comedy and light drama. He is probably best remembered for his turns as Benjamin Franklin on talk shows and in his one man show Benjamin Franklin, Citizen. Wayne, no longer active in the entertainment industry, was born on October 17, 1924.

         "Twenty Two" is a slight, if memorable, accomplishment for the show and, like most of the videotaped episodes, suffers somewhat from the formatting. It is a simple, derivative episode which sticks in the mind of the viewer and has a suitably creepy atmosphere enhanced by memorable production design. If anything, "Twenty Two" signaled the near-end of the disastrous cost cutting measure that was the use of videotape on the series.

Grade: C

Notes:

-- Jonathan Harris also appeared in the later Season Two episode, "The Silence." He also appeared in an episode of Rod Serling's Night Gallery titled "Since Aunt Ada Came to Stay."

-- Fredd Wayne also appeared in the later Season Two episode, "The Arrival."

--Arline Sax also appeared in the Season One episode "What You Need."

-- "Twenty Two" was adapted into a Twilight Zone Radio Drama starring Andrea Evans.

-- Jordan Prejean and Brian Durant