Episode Spotlight: "What's In the Box" (3/13/1964)

Season 5, Episode 24 (144 total)

Originally aired 3/13/1964

Cayuga Production # 2635

Fifty years ago tonight, a miserable couple’s constant bickering escalated to violence and murder. So yeah, good times.

“What’s in the Box” finds NY cabbie Joe Britt impatiently waiting for a repairman to finish fixing his TV before his beloved wrestling comes on. The repairman’s response to Joe’s accusations of larceny is to give him the repair for free, which sounds incredibly nice… but there’s just something creepy about the guy.

Britt turns on the set and is shocked to see himself in the company of his mistress, a scene that occurred earlier that evening (he was late coming home from work, arousing his wife Phyllis’s suspicion). He immediately suspects that Phyllis is somehow in cahoots with the repairman (never mind that such a plot would be highly difficult, if not impossible, in 1964; it would actually be relatively easy to pull off today), escalating the tension between them.

The TV then shows him a scene in which he and Phyllis get in what amounts to an all-out brawl, culminating in her death. Shaken, Joe attempts to apologize to her for his philandering, which only serves to make Phyllis angrier. He then sees himself tried and sentenced to death for the murder and punches out the TV screen in dismay.

Phyllis then berates and humiliates him, which sets off the brawl he witnessed earlier. It ends the same, with him punching her through a window. The police bust in and, as Joe is hauled away, the TV repairman appears and asks that Joe recommend his “service” to others.

“What’s in the Box” is written by newcomer Martin M. Goldsmith (who will also contribute “The Encounter” in May). Goldsmith wasn’t terribly prolific during his twenty-year career, but he did write one of my all-time favorite film noirs, 1945’s Detour. In the director’s chair is Richard L. Bare, on hand for his seventh and final turn at the helm which is, sadly, his least impressive (his previous credits are as follows: “Third from the Sun,” “The Purple Testament,” “Nick of Time,” “The Prime Mover,” “To Serve Man,” and “The Fugitive”). If he’d only turned down this gig, he’d have an unblemished TZ record (he’d go on to direct a whopping 166 episodes of Green Acres, however, so I guess he was destined not to be taken too seriously).

Only Joe can see and hear the TV’s prognosticating broadcasts, which suggests that they may be hallucinations, his mind creating an elaborate construct through which to process guilt or trauma, something we've seen on The Twilight Zone before (“Nightmare as a Child,” “The Arrival”). However, we know that the repairman is real, and the events that unfold before Joe’s TV-addicted really do end up happening, so it's clearly not all in his head. So what’s really going on here, then?

Who is this TV repairman? He must be some supernatural force, but for what? His so-called “services” didn’t serve anyone: the Britts’ lives are destroyed, and why? Because Joe couldn’t keep it in his pants? Is that really cosmic justice? That’s a rhetorical question, because I’ll state for the record right here and now: it sure as hell isn’t. I’m not necessarily advocating infidelity, but I’m also very aware that relationships suffer for a variety of reasons, and people can be excruciatingly lonely within them. I’m not saying cheating is okay… I just understand how it can happen. So Joe’s getting some on the side. Does that mean he deserves to fry in the electric chair?  Absolutely not, but even if it did, the chain of events started by the TV repairman brought about Phyllis’s death too, so it’s a pretty goddamned moot point. This is chaos, plain and simple. I’ve talked at various points this season about the loss of the series’ moral compass as it winds down. “What’s in the Box” is yet another example of that.

There seems to be an attempt to lampoon the sillier aspects of television (the inanity of pro wrestling, the obnoxiousness of used car salesmen, etc.), which we also witnessed in season two’s “Static.” In that earlier effort, those isolated bits were appropriate since there was a clear effort to contrast radio with TV. Here, they just sorta hang there, unconnected to anything, for no apparent reason other than to fill time.

When Phyllis is berating Joe for sneaking around instead of coming home on time, she suggests that “maybe (he) went to Yonkers twice.” Is that intended as sexual innuendo? Is Phyllis implying that Joe in fact scored twice in one extramarital encounter? If so, I’ve gotta applaud Cayuga for getting it past the censors.

While Joe watches his climactic fight with Phyllis unfold on his TV, the musical cue (“Mistral #1” by Marius Constant) that will accompany the actual scene later is heard. This means that Joe can actually hear the underscore, which is pretty amazing when you think about it.  Or maybe it’s laziness on the editor’s part, I dunno.

Two police officers break into the Britt apartment, guns drawn, exactly 25 seconds after Phyllis crashes through the window to her death. We’re never told which floor they live on, but it’s safe to assume that it’s several flights up. Even if the officers happened to be passing by at the moment she kissed the sidewalk, and watched her entire fall, and knew the building well enough to pinpoint exactly which apartment she fell from… well, I think you know where I’m going with this. You've heard the old adage “there’s never a cop around when you need one”? Well, these cops are beyond fast. Maybe they had a future-telling TV at the precinct.  Or… maybe they’d already been called, since the Britts’ racket was undoubtedly disturbing several neighbors. Yeah, that’s much more probable, but much less fun to consider.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

William Demarest plays Joe Britt in his only TZ appearance. Demarest appeared in the 1948 film noir Night Has a Thousand Eyes, plus he appeared on Alfred Hitchcock Presents (“And the Desert Shall Blossom”) in 1958.

Joan Blondell (Phyllis Britt) also has a classic film noir on her extensive resume (1947’s Nightmare Alley); however, my wife Teresa would most likely recognize her from her role as Vi in 1978’s Grease, one of her all-time favorite films.

Sterling Holloway plays the impish and slightly-malevolent TV repairman. He’s probably best remembered for his vocal work in several Disney films, most prominently The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, in which he voiced the titular bear. His distinctive voice could also be heard in the “Atomic Shakespeare” episode of TV’s Moonlighting, one of my favorite 80’s shows.

We have a trio of TZ vets in the supporting cast. The judge who sentences Britt to death is played by Howard Wright, who last appeared in season three’s “The Jungle”). The prosecuting attorney (who is only heard, not seen) is played by Douglas Bank, who will return for “I Am the Night – Color Me Black” in two weeks. Finally, Britt’s unnamed chickadee on the side is played by Sandra Gould, who played another unnamed woman in season three’s “Cavender Is Coming.”

Robert L. McCord III appears in an uncredited role as one of the two guards that strap Britt into the electric chair in the TV’s final future scene. According to his IMDB page, McCord appeared in more than 60 (!) Twilight Zones, far more than any other actor, almost invariably in small, uncredited background roles. However, he did manage to land a few more visible characters, including the Burke wax figure in season four's "The New Exhibit," the sheriff in season two's "A Hundred Yards Over the Rim," the ice cream man in season one's "The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street," and the shooting gallery attendant in season five's "In Praise of Pip."

I've been a diehard TZ fan for over thirty years now. How the hell did I never know about McCord until now? I suddenly feel like an amateur. I hate discovering this fascinating item now, near the end... I would've done an ongoing "Robert McCord" alert every time he showed up (like I've done with my Forbidden Planet alerts). And here I was, thinking I was so clever with my David Armstrong sightings. Damn, damn, damn. The Twilight Zone Museum has a nice piece about this amazing individual here.

“What’s in the Box” is a textbook missed opportunity. What if Joe learned the error of his ways, thanks to the TV repairman’s ministrations, and salvaged his marriage to Phyllis? Then it starts sounding like the Twilight Zone we all know and love, doesn’t it? But it’s not. As it slips into its final death throes, it feels like a different show entirely.

Next week:

Speaking of death throes, Jason Foster is about to check out. But first…. revenge!

Xmas 2012

Santa was pretty good to me this year.... among the usual goodies (booze, blu-rays, and tasty treats), I received not one but TWO Twilight Zone-themed items.  And, as fate would have it, both of them use the graphic elements from the show's fourth season, which turns 50 next week.  It's like Santa (okay, my wife Teresa) can read my mind!

First up is a customized Twilight Zone iPhone cover from Accessory Geeks.  Teresa uploaded the graphics (which she presumably found on Google Images or something) and placed the order and viola!  A brand new protective case for my iPhone.  Looks really snazzy.  The design matches my Twilight Zone cigarette case (detailed here), speaking of which... well, read on...

 Outside.

 Inside.

 Left side.

Right side.

Next up is something that is undeniably and unequivocally awesome.  I casually remarked to Teresa a while back that, while I smoked pretty regularly back in college, I've never owned an actual Zippo lighter.  This woman clearly listens and remembers...

Oh my God, it's a Twilight Zone Zippo lighter!  This is actually a real item (as opposed to specially-customized), available right now on Amazon.com (get yours here).  It's an authentic Zippo, complete with a lifetime warranty, and the CBS copyright on the front implies that it's a licensed item.  Check it out...

The matte finish is quite nice.  Most of the graphic elements from the season 4 opening sequence are accounted for (the actual TZ logo, however, is the more recognizable one from seasons 1-3), and they're sharp as a tack (presumably silk-screened, but I dunno).  This thing is just plain beautiful.  My Twilight Zone cigarette case (again, spotlighted here) finally has a worthy companion (all I need is a pack of Chesterfields and I'm set).  I, um, don't usually smoke (we're talking one or two per month, tops), but when I do... well, ladies and gentlemen, I'm in The Zone.

Hope your Christmas was merry, y'all!

The Big 4-1.

Yesterday I turned 41. And in keeping with a new tradition (new as of last year), my lovely wife Teresa made me a Twilight Zone-themed cake. You can see last year's cake here. As cool as it was, it can't touch the amazing cake she made this year.

The whole thing is edible. The various graphics are printed in edible ink on edible fondant. The cake is devils food (my favorite) with a cream cheese chocolate frosting.



And yes, that's ME on the cake, in my "Eye of the Beholder" Halloween costume (spotlighted here).


Check out the authentic season 3 spiral on top!


Finally... a human eats a Kanamit for a change!



My jaw literally dropped when I saw this thing. She's really set the bar pretty high. I can only imagine what next year will hold....

Thanks, baby. I love you!

Halloween 2010: The Doctor Is In

For a few months now, I’ve been silently working on the feasibility of creating a Kanamit costume for Halloween. I think I’d pretty much figured out how to pull it off, but time grew short, and it became apparent that it would have to wait until next year. About a week ago, I casually mentioned to my wife Teresa that I’d still love to put something together for THIS Halloween (since I haven’t dressed up in at least ten years), something Twilight Zone-related. I happened to be organizing my DVD screen captures for my weekly episode promos, and I showed her some shots from “The Eye of the Beholder.” We briefly discussed how a doctor costume could be achieved, and then I went on with my business, not really thinking anything of it.

The next day, she called me at work to tell me that she’d picked up some supplies to create the mask. This was Wednesday, a mere four days from Halloween. I was pretty skeptical, but she seemed intensely determined to pull it off (I dunno, maybe since her father had just stayed with us for a month, she wanted to compensate me somehow).

Her plan was to sculpt the facial pieces on top of an existing mask. She chose a Guy Fawkes mask because, well, I’ve got a pretty wide face, so a larger mask was needed.

She trimmed off everything but the actual face section and started sculpting the eyebrow, nose, cheekbones and upper lip using Crayola Magic Modeling Clay (which air-dries to a soft, semi-pliable state). By the time I got home from work, she’d already created the basic mask. She had me try it on, which allowed her to identify some areas that needed work (for example, the upper lip was way too big, which made me look like a pig-duck hybrid, which makes a perverse kind of sense, since I’m an overweight Oregon Ducks fan).


The next day (Thursday), she did some additional trimming. Most notably, she scaled the upper lip down considerably.


On Friday, while I spent my lunch hour buying surgical scrubs and a stethoscope, she further refined the mask (including minimizing the upper lip even further) and applied a base coat of paint to it. We decided Friday evening that simply wearing it as a mask (with an elastic band) wasn’t good enough: we would actually glue the thing to my face to make it as realistic as possible. She trimmed off the temple sections, where the elastic band was attached. The mask was ready.


Saturday, we picked up some spirit gum and her costume (“Voluptuous Vampiress”) at a local Halloween store (Spirit, in Tigard). I then did something that was necessary to the success of the costume, but something I was absolutely dreading nonetheless: I completely shaved my face: mustache, goatee, sideburns, everything. Keep in mind, I haven’t had a bare face in ten years. The results were shocking: I knew I was chubby, but I didn’t realize how much of that chub resided in my face and neck. Jeeeeeesus. The house mongrel Bijou actually backed away from me in horror.

Anyway, that evening I took her out to dinner. It was the least I could do.

Sunday arrived. About 3:30 in the afternoon, we began.


After the appliance was, well, applied, Teresa began the arduous task of matching the mask to my skin color. There was a LOT of makeup involved. And then... it was complete.

I'm Doctor Craig, and I'll be performing your plastic surgery today.

I've got a PhD in sexy.

Reviewing surveillance camera footage. Man, that chick was fugly.

When I've had a long hard day at the plastic surgery clinic, I like to unwind with a smoke. Chesterfield Kings... try 'em, they satisfy.

Doing my part to Save the Boobies.

Taking a break from today's rounds to watch The Leader's speech on "glorious conformity." Man, what a tool. Between you and me, I wouldn't mind throwing a little Lee Harvey Oswald his way.

For the entire photo shoot, go here.

The results speak for themselves. Teresa did an amazing job. I think every serious Twilight Zone fan has probably dreamed, at one time or another, of being made up like a doctor (or nurse) from “Eye of the Beholder.” Thanks to the tireless efforts of my beautiful wife, I got to live that dream. Nice work, Bunny!

The Voluptuous Vampiress (aka Bunny).

Next year: Kanamit, baby. It’s happening, folks. Stay tuned.