Episode Spotlight: "Mr. Garrity and the Graves" (5/08/1964)

Season 5, Episode 32 (152 overall)

Originally aired 5/08/1964

Cayuga Production # 2637

Fifty years ago tonight, The Twilight Zone introduced us to a kindly Old West peddler with a most unusual service to render (and who may be indirectly responsible for the zombie apocalypse everybody’s so amped up about these days).

Peddler Jared Garrity rides into Happiness, Arizona and offers to raise the 187 occupants of their cemetery for no charge. He proves his ability to the skeptical local folk by reanimating a dog after an errant wagon runs over it. That very night at midnight sharp, he declares, the town will be reunited with its lost friends and family members.

The truth is that all but one of those 187 people died under violent conditions, and it becomes apparent that the townspeople were in varying ways complicit in their deaths. They become increasingly anxious about being confronted by the (literal) skeletons in their closets and, as midnight grows near, desperately offer Garrity large sums of money to reverse the process and keep them buried and quiet. He agrees.

Garrity leaves town in the dead of night and meets up with his partner in crime, just outside the city limits near the cemetery. The whole thing has been a ruse (his partner faked the dog’s death), and they move on to the next town significantly richer. Just then the 187 dead do in fact rise up from their graves, eager to return to town to even some scores.

“Mr. Garrity and the Graves” is a fairly entertaining episode, thanks largely to John Dehner’s wry performance as Garrity. Garrity is younger and more urbane than the peddlers who have passed through The Twilight Zone previously (Henry J. Fate from “Mr. Denton on Doomsday” and Professor Eliot from “No Time Like the Past", both incidentally played by Malcolm Atterbury), and Dehner is a joy to watch as he fleeces the townspeople while somehow appearing to have their best interests at heart.

So what exactly are these reanimated dead folks? They aren’t zombies, since they’re able to speak and recall their lives. They aren’t ghosts, since Zelda Gooberman plans to break her husband’s arm when she sees him (indicating that she, along with the others, have corporeal form). They aren’t even corpses in the traditional sense, since they don’t appear to have decayed at all. And if they indeed climbed up out of the earth, as Garrity indicates, wouldn’t they be covered in dirt?

Interestingly, just a few days before “Mr. Garrity” aired, ABC’s The Outer Limits aired “The Forms of Things Unknown,” which concerned a scientist who can tilt time to bring the dead back to life. Easter 1964 took place on March 29, well over a month before either episode was broadcast, but I suppose it’s possible that a general air of resurrection was still floating around.

“Mr. Garrity and the Graves” is written by Rod Serling, based on a story idea by Mike Korologos (this is his only credit, so this must’ve been one of those situations where some random stranger at a party told Serling about an idea for a Twilight Zone, and Serling paid them on the spot for it). As such, it’s impossible to know who to thank for the positives and who to blame for the negatives. The positives include a relatively cleaver premise; the negatives include several holes in said premise. The concept of extorting money to keep dead people in the ground is a nice reversal on the initial selling point of reanimating them; however, the fact that the risen dead aren’t decomposed at all and appear to retain their memories and personalities is troubling (are we to assume that there’s in fact no afterlife?). The most glaring issue is the ridiculous amounts of cash the townspeople have on their persons: Garrity charges the townspeople anywhere from $500.00 to $1,200.00 each for his services. Adjusted for inflation, those amounts range from $12,820.51 to $30,769.23 in 2014 dollars. I’m pretty sure there’s never been a time in human history in which folks have walked around with that kind of cash on them, certainly not in the goddamned desert near the turn of the century. I can accept a certain level of deus ex machina, but at some point it just becomes insulting.

"Mr. Garrity” is directed by Ted Post (season one’s “A World of Difference” and November’s “Probe 7 – Over and Out”); he’ll also direct “The Fear,” which we’ll get to in a few weeks. Things are pretty flat for the most part (meaning that the direction is fine but unremarkable), but the sustained long shot of the cemetery just before the dead rise is  effectively eerie.

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The “Happiness, Arizona” sign that opens the episode would soon be repurposed behind the scenes, modified to reflect the series’ demise.

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THE MUSIC

“Mr. Garrity and the Graves” features an original score by Tommy Morgan. His other contributions to the series (“The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank” and “Hocus-Pocus and Frisby,” both from season three) are pretty harmonica-heavy, but this time around it’s all harmonica and nothing else. No strings, no percussion, just… harmonica. I suppose it’s appropriate to the period, but…. well, it’s definitely not my thing. The score has never been released on the various TZ soundtracks over the years, and it’s not isolated on the DVD/Blu-ray season five sets, so completist collectors like me will likely never be able to acquire the recorded score… which, in this case, doesn’t bother me in the least. I guess I’m not the completist I thought I was.

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DRAMATIS PERSONAE

John Dehner (Jared Garrity) joins the Three Timers Club this week (he was the sympathetic Allenby in season one’s “The Lonely” and the skeptic Alan Richards in season three’s “The Jungle”). Dehner’s only other genre credit is an episode of Kolchak: The Night Stalker (“The Knightly Murders”) in 1975.

J. Pat O'Malley (Gooberman, the town drunk), meanwhile, joins the Four Timers Club (he was in season one’s “The Chaser,” season three’s “The Fugitive,” and season five’s “The Self-Improvement of Salvadore Ross”). He’s also a four-time veteran of Boris Karloff’s Thriller (“Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook,” “Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper,” “The Premature Burial,” and “Waxworks”); he also logged appearances on Alfred Hitchcock Presents (“The Dusty Drawer," below) and, like Dehner, Kolchak: The Night Stalker (“The Zombie”).

Stanley Adams (Jensen, the bartender) looks familiar, it’s because we saw him in season three’s “Once Upon a Time” as Rollo, the modern day scientist who steals the time helmet from Buster Keaton. He has another, quite interesting Serling connection: he played Perelli in the 1962 big-screen adaptation of Serling’s Requiem for a Heavyweight, which was originally produced in 1956 on Playhouse 90 (and which made Serling a bona fide star). Adams also appeared on Alfred Hitchcock Presents (“Pen Pal”) and Boris Karloff’s Thriller (“The Weird Tailor”); however, genre fans likely recognize him as the notorious Cyrano Jones, the intergalactic trader responsible for Deep Space Station K7’s tribble infestation in Star Trek’s “The Trouble with Tribbles.”

The highly-annoying Lapham is played by Percy Helton, whose grating voice was last heard in season four’s “Mute.” Helton appeared in a whopping seven episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents between 1955 and 1961 (I’m not gonna list them all; you know how to use IMDB if you’re curious); his other genre credits include gigs on Alcoa Presents One Step Beyond (“Premonition”) and Thriller (“Rose’s Last Summer”). He also played Doc Kennedy in one of my all-time favorite film noirs, 1955’s Kiss Me Deadly; he’s also the train conductor in 1954’s White Christmas (which co-stars TZ alum Dean Jagger), which I faithfully watch every December.

Sheriff Gilchrist is played by Norman Leavitt in his only Twilight Zone appearance. His other genre credits include four episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents (including "One More Mile To Go," pictured below), three Alfred Hitchcock Hours, and two Thrillers. Leavitt’s final role was that of a grave digger on the “Ashes to Ashes” episode of Quincy, M.E. in 1978, which is a bit creepy, given this week’s subject matter.

Leavitt (left) with TZ alum David Wayne ("Escape Clause").

John Mitchum (Ace, Garrity’s partner in crime) previously visited The Twilight Zone as the ill-fated Erbie in season two’s “The Rip Van Winkle Caper” (he’s the one who didn’t survive the 100-year sleep). His other genre credits include four Science Fiction Theaters, a Thriller (“The Cheaters”), and a Kolchak: The Night Stalker (“The Energy Eater”). He was Robert Mitchum’s younger brother, so I guess he was the James Belushi of his generation.

“Mr. Garrity and the Graves,” while not a particular favorite of mine, is an amusing little number with a grisly (yet still amusing) denouement. John Dehner, playing a sharp scalpel in a room full of dull shovels, is really the bulk of the attraction here. I guess it’s more or less a comedy, so I’m willing to forgive the logical problems that crop up, which I reckon means I’m right comfortable recommendin' it to y'all.

Next week:

Robbie the Robot returns to give us our very last Forbidden Planet alert.

Episode Spotlight: "The Encounter" (5/01/1964)

Season 5, Episode 31 (151 overall)

Originally aired 5/01/1964

Cayuga Production # 2640

Fifty years ago tonight, a restless ghost of a brutal war chose a hot summer day to rise up and exact its revenge.

“The Encounter” finds decorated WW2 vet Fenton getting plastered in his attic. Enter Arthur Takamuri, a young Japanese-American, who has heard Fenton might be looking for a gardener. Fenton hires him on the spot, then invites him up for a beer. Fenton commences needling Arthur with racial jabs, showing off a genuine Samurai sword he picked up off a dead Japanese soldier in Okinawa. He asks Arthur to translate the inscription on the blade, but Arthur claims he doesn’t know Japanese.

When Fenton leaves for a moment to get more beer, Arthur picks up the sword and is immediately transfixed by it, murmuring “I’m going to kill him.”

Fenton continues taunting Arthur, and things get progressively tenser. Arthur finds himself again mesmerized by the sword and menaces Fenton with it. He comes to his senses, but is now aware that the sword belonged to a Japanese soldier who had surrendered; Fenton killed him in cold blood. Fenton doesn’t deny it, blaming his superiors for his actions (the hoary “only following orders” Nazi bullshit). Arthur tries to leave, but finds the attic door locked. Fenton is unable to open it, which is odd considering the fact that the door has no lock.

Arthur describes his childhood in Hawaii, where his father tried to warn US soldiers of the imminent Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor (shades of Serling’s “The Time Element”!); he then breaks down and admits that his father actually helped the Japanese. Fenton then reveals that he’s lost both his wife and his job in the past week due to his drinking problem, and he’s lost the will to live. He goads Arthur --- whose real name is Taro --- to kill him with the sword. They struggle, and Arthur ends up impaled on the sword… quite dead.

Taro takes up the sword, cries “Banzai!” and leaps through a window, presumably to his death. The episode ends with the attic door swinging gently open.

“The Encounter” is the fifth and final Twilight Zone episode that wasn’t included in the series’ syndication package (along with “Miniature,” “A Short Drink from a Certain Fountain,” “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” and “Sounds and Silences”). Accounts differ, but it’s been suggested that the idea that a Japanese-American citizen colluding with the enemy may have offended some viewers. I’m not going to dwell on this, except to say that it’s a work of fiction, for Christ’s sake. In any case, the episode was aired once and then cooled its heels in a vault someplace until it was released as part of the Treasures of The Twilight Zone VHS set around 1992 or so and, since then, it’s been included in every single home video release (Columbia House VHS, DVD, Blu-ray, Hulu, Netflix, etc.). As far as I know, it still isn’t aired on TV though.

“The Encounter” was written by Martin M. Goldsmith, who also contributed “What’s in the Box” back in March. This one certainly feels more like Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone, with its tense meditation on war and guilt. The dialogue is frequently riveting, certainly on par (or at least close) to similar work by Rod Serling. I think the problem for me lies in the ultimate fate of Taro, which I’ll talk about in a bit. In the director’s chair is Robert Butler, who also directed the terrible “Caesar and Me” just a few weeks ago; “The Encounter” is an opportunity for some atonement, and Butler makes good use of it. The attic setting is sufficiently claustrophobic without interfering with or distracting from the drama.

A taut script is one thing, but the episode’s success ultimately hinges on the performances; happily, both Neville Brand and George Takei are excellent (Takei in particular; watch the subtle change in his expression and demeanor whenever the sword casts its spell on him; not to mention his feverish reliving of the attack on Pearl Harbor, complete with his own sound effects).

The supernatural element in “The Encounter” is pretty subtle, so I suppose interpretations may vary. Here’s how I see it: the soul of the dead Japanese soldier couldn’t find rest until it avenged itself. Fenton tells Taro that his repeated attempts to get rid of the sword have inexplicably failed; the damn thing always somehow comes back to him. I believe the sword is a conduit from the spirit world to the real world, and when Taro --- who harbors guilt over his father’s treasonous actions --- touches it, that restless spirit is able to connect directly with him, at least partially controlling his actions.

I think we can all agree that Fenton is a racist pig who deserves to die (and his falling upon the sword of his victim is certainly fitting). However, Taro isn’t guilty of anything, and certainly doesn’t deserve his fate. I’m pretty sure The Twilight Zone’s cosmic justice roster doesn’t include a “sins of the father” qualifier; but then, this late in the series, the moral compass is spinning wildly out of control.

BEER CAN CONUNDRUM

Fenton uses a can opener (actually a can piercer, sometimes called a “church key”) to open the cans of Quality Beer™ that he and Taro enjoy, and we can plainly see that the labels are upright. We then cut to closer shots of each, and both of them are now holding the cans upside down. It gets goofier: we see both of them take a drink, and on both cans, the bottoms (actually the tops, since they're upside-down) have pull-tabs on them. 

Pull-tabs were pretty much standard by 1964 so, ignoring the obvious blooper, why was it necessary to have Fenton use an opener at all? I dunno, maybe it plays into an old-school-is-cool life ethic, like using a refillable Zippo Lighter instead of a disposable Bic (guilty), or collecting vinyl records instead of buying digital songs on iTunes (guilty). Fenton grew up using a church key, so by god, he’s gonna keep right on doing it that way.

Except.... 

In several shots, we can see empty cans strewn about that have the pull-top pulled. My head hurts now.

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THE MUSIC

“The Encounter” is stock-scored with pre-existing cues in the CBS Music Library. Recognizable bits include extracts from season two’s “King Nine Will Not Return” (Fred Steiner), season one’s “The Big Tall Wish” (Jerry Goldsmith), and Bernard Herrmann’s score for “The Moat Farm Murder,” a Mercury Summer Theater radio production from 1946. 

Tak Shindo’s intriguing and lovely In a Japanese Temple is also sprinkled throughout for exotic flavor and, speaking of vinyl, I happen to have a Shindo LP in my collection (1959’s Brass and Bamboo). Shindo was the music supervisor for several episodes of CBS’s Gunsmoke for part of 1957; he may have recorded In a Japanese Temple during this time (which would explain how it became part of the CBS Music Library in the first place; my research didn’t turn up anything definitive). Anyway, this patchwork of musical odds and ends can be enjoyed in isolated form on the Blu-ray release of season five from Image Entertainment (but not the DVD; if you haven't upgraded yet... well, feel the wrath of my disapproving scowl).

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DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Neville Brand (Fenton) had a long film and television career, so it’s rather surprising that The Twilight Zone is his only sci-fi/fantasy/horror credit. He did appear in several film noirs, however, among them D.O.A. (1950), Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950), and Kansas City Confidential (1952). Brand was a highly-decorated Army soldier in World War II (he received a Silver Star and a Purple Heart, among others), which is kinda eerie when you think about it (hopefully this gig didn’t bring up any bad memories for him).

Brand (left) with TZ alum Gary Merrill in Where the Sidewalk Ends.

George Takei (Taro) needs no introduction, as anyone with even a passing interest in sci-fi knows him as Lieutenant (and later Captain) Hikaru Sulu from Star Trek. Over the last five years or so, Takei has developed a formidable online presence across multiple social networking platforms (Facebook, Twitter, etc.), and has emerged as one of the internet’s foremost proponents of gay rights (and human rights in general). I just love the guy. I should also note that he participates in a commentary track on the Blu-ray with director Robert Butler, which is moderated by my nemesis, Marc Scott Zicree.

"The Encounter" is a true gem, easily my favorite of the "Lost Five." The conflict is real and raw, and the performances are excellent.

Now that the “Lost Five” have been revealed, we have another quintet to deal with: The LAST Five. That’s right, kids, you can count the remaining episodes on one hand. The end isn't just in sight... it's racing up to meet us.

Next week:

A modern day Lazarus tries to con some rural types out of their cash.