Repeat Report: Spring 1963

Season four’s original run included three weeks of repeats (before the customary rerun season commenced after the first-run premieres finished).  Since the series had just returned to the air in January 1963, this meant that the episodes were still very recent (“The Thirty-Fathom Grave,” for example, premiered less than three months before it was repeated!). 

03/28/1963

The Thirty-Fathom Grave (rerun)

Original air date: 01/10/1963

04/25/1963

In His Image (rerun)

Original air date: 01/03/1963

05/16/1963

Death Ship (rerun)

Original air date: 02/07/1963

Records are sketchy, but it’s doubtful that “Death Ship” was actually repeated on 5/16/1963: the episode was scheduled, but coverage of Project Mercury’s MA-9 mission started at 9:30 (in all fairness, it probably would've been in bad taste to show an episode about a doomed rocket crew while we had an astronaut in orbit!).  I've included it here just in case (in case of what, exactly?  I dunno).

The regular summer repeat season would commence on 5/30/1963, so we'll run 'em down in due course.

TZ Promo: "Death Ship" (2/07/1963)

Season 4, Episode 6 (#108 overall)

Cayuga Production # 4850

Originally aired February 7, 1963

“Since the beginning, man has looked into the awesome reaches of infinity and asked the eternal questions:  What is time?  What is space?  What is life?  What is death?”

--- Opening narration,

Portrait of Jennie (1948)

The above quote sounds like a Control Voice narration from The Outer Limits, but I’m using it here on my Twilight Zone blog because it fits perfectly:  in different ways, tonight’s episode asks all four of those questions.

Richard Matheson’s “Death Ship,” which turns 50 tonight, finds a crew of three astronauts on a deep space mission, cataloging planets for potential colonization sites. Waiting for them on the 13^th planet of Star System 51 is perhaps the greatest mystery of all, wrapped in the trappings of the deepest horror known to man. “Something glittered down there,” says Lieutenant Mason as he scans the planet’s surface. Lieutenant Carter is excited at the possibilities that may await them, but Captain Ross is reluctant to bother. Protocol demands that they investigate, however, so they land.

Upon landing, the trio discovers a crashed ship that looks identical to their own.  They venture inside and discover a trio of corpses that match themselves in every detail, right down to their ID cards.

Mason and the third crewman, Lieutenant Carter, immediately assume that they are dead. In Matheson’s original short story, this was in fact the truth:  they were essentially ghosts discovering the nature of their own deaths.  In fleshing out the story for The Twilight Zone’s new hour format, Matheson takes things in a different, somewhat more ambiguous direction.

You'll find Matheson's original short story in this collection, circa 1961.

Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to spoil the ending in order for the rest of my comments to make sense.  Without giving too much detail, the reality is that, because of Captain Ross’ iron-willed refusal to accept death, and his intense determination to discover an alternate explanation, he (and his hapless crew along with him) is stuck in an endless loop in time, reliving these events over and over again throughout eternity.  It’s kinda like season one’s “Judgment Night,” but in space.  It’s not necessarily the most satisfying ending, but the real sparks come from the stellar performances by Jack Klugman and Ross Martin.

What can I say about Jack Klugman that I haven’t already said in this blog?  I love the man.  He’s one of my favorite actors of all time (TZ or otherwise), and he was excellent in everything he ever did, period (1957’s Twelve Angry Men, TV’s The Odd Couple and Quincy, M.E., the list goes on and on and on).  He’s visited The Twilight Zone twice before (season one’s “A Passage forTrumpet” and season three’s “A Game of Pool”), and we’ll see him again in September for the season five opener (“In Praise of Pip”).  Captain Ross is a bit of a departure for him; his other three TZ roles find him inhabiting variations on the same type of character: down on his luck, rough around the edges but lovable; here, he’s all stone and steel, tough to love and impossible to defy.  Mason and Carter clearly fear and hate him, but they sure as hell do what he says. 

Klugman passed away very recently (Christmas Eve), and I’m still mourning.  For whatever self-delusional reason, I always thought I’d meet him one day.

Ross Martin visited The Twilight Zone previously in season one’s “The Four of Us Are Dying,” a relatively forgettable appearance, but here he shines in one of my favorite TZ performances.  Watch his face fill with teary-eyed joy as he comes face to face with his deceased wife and daughter, and later, mournful despondency as he realizes the truth behind the episode’s central mystery.  Mason played the creepy-as-hell “Red” Lynch in 1962’s Experiment in Terror, which was recently released on blu-ray from Twilight Time. 

I believe you're going... my way?

Fredrick Beir, playing the slightly-dopey Carter here, played another astronaut the same year on The Outer Limits (“The Man with the Power”).  He and Klugman would cross paths again eight years later on The Odd Couple (“Felix’s Wife’s Boyfriend”).

Martin (as Mason) has a wonderful moment outside the wrecked ship in act one:  after surveying the craft’s hull damage, he imagines the disaster.  Over a close shot of his face, we hear the deafening roar of the engines as the ship descends and crashes (as he imagines it).  It’s interesting to reflect on this after the episode ends.  Is it his imagination, or is it an actual memory echoing through their endless time loop?

This episode undoubtedly inspired "Cause and Effect," one of my all-time favorite episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, which finds our intrepid Enterprise 1701-D crew trapped in a “causality loop” in which they meet a catastrophic end over and over again (lucky for them, the android Data finds a way to eventually break them free; our E-89 boys unfortunately didn't bring an android with them).

Forbidden Planet alert!  The United Planets C-57D Space Cruiser makes yet another appearance on The Twilight Zone, this time standing in as the E-89 spaceship.  We get lots of it here, in both pristine and crashed form.  The takeoff and landing footage is very impressive (it kicks up dust and everything!) as is the miniature set representing the surface of the planet. The uniforms worn by the E-89 crew are also Forbidden Planet leftovers.  The E-89 interior, meanwhile, appears to be new (which means no Pac-Man lights, dammit).

There’s an (unfortunately) obvious cut in the shot in which Mason first reveals his duplicate’s corpse in the wrecked ship.  I tried to get a screen capture for illustration’s sake, but there’s too much motion to get a clear shot (it happens at time stamp 11:57; you really can’t miss it). There’s probably no way they could’ve pulled this off seamlessly in a single shot, but it’s a bit disappointing after the marvelous split screen work achieved on “In His Image” a few weeks back.  They could’ve simply blocked the shot differently and avoided the cut (interestingly, we get some great split screen shots mere seconds later).  It’s really the only blemish on an otherwise excellent episode, one that I count among my top 10 favorites.

Next:  The incomparable Anne Francis does some betwitchin.’

R.I.P. Jack Klugman

Jack Klugman

1922-2012

It's Christmas Eve, and I just found out ten minutes ago.  Klugman was my favorite Twilight Zone actor, appearing in four great episodes, all of which reside in my top 40 favorites ("A Passage for Trumpet," "A Game of Pool," "Death Ship" and "In Praise of Pip").  Needless to say, I'm devastated.  I always imagined I'd somehow meet him, shake his hand and thank him for a lifetime of brilliant work. It'll never happen now.  The closest I'll ever come are the two autographed items I bought on eBay:

Rest in peace, Jack.  And a Merry Christmas to each and all.

TZ Promo: "The Trouble with Templeton" (12/09/1960)

“The Trouble With Templeton”
Season Two, Episode 9 (#45 overall)
Cayuga Production # 173-3649

Tonight’s episode, first aired on this date exactly fifty years ago, features a man in a morose state of nostalgia who somehow finds himself transported to his coveted past. No, his name isn’t Martin Sloan.

“The Trouble with Templeton” is a competent production, but in all honesty, I’ve never felt particularly warm toward it. Perhaps my “meh” feeling stems from the fact that, on a thematic level, nothing happens here that we haven’t already seen in previous episodes, most notably season one’s “Walking Distance”… and on every level, this episode is inferior to that gentle masterpiece. Like I said, it’s competent enough on its own, but there’s really nothing transcendent going on here.

Oh, except for one thing. There’s a jaw-droppingly beautiful shot late in the episode: Templeton has sought out his dead wife in a speakeasy, where he hopes for a sweet reunion with his lost love. He’s met instead with a raucous barrage of loud Dixieland jazz and general obnoxious behavior. He objects, gets himself slapped across the face, and flees. The ghosts of his past abruptly drop their drunken merriment act as they watch him go. The music stops, everyone stands still, and the lights go down… except for a single spotlight, which the beautiful Pippa Scott steps into, an incalculable longing in her eyes.

I guess that’s an interesting point, one that perhaps elevates the episode a bit. Templeton aches for the dead past, but it appears that dead past aches even more for him. A sobering thought.


“The Trouble with Templeton” is written by E. Jack Neuman, so at least it’s not Serling pilfering himself this time around (he’ll do enough of that as the series progresses). Buzz Kulik directs. Brian Ahern and the aforementioned Pippa Scott star.

Interesting cast note: the snooty theater director is played by a young Sydney Pollack, who would go on to a rather impressive directing career (he won an Academy Award for 1982’s Out of Africa). Pollack continued to act periodically as well, turning in memorable performances in Tootsie (which he also directed) and Eyes Wide Shut, among many others. He passed away in 2008. Here, he’s an arrogant ass… which is exactly what he’s supposed to be.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention the lovely score by Jeff Alexander. It's comprised mostly of fairly generic Dixieland-style jazz, but sprinkled throughout are some very lovely cues. One in particular, "Cerebellum," will reappear in season four's "Death Ship" and season five's "Probe 7 - Over and Out." It's a beautiful little piece of music.

Next week: A band of thieves gets their grubby mitts on a camera that takes pictures of the future. Intriguing concept, right? Don't get your hopes up. Say cheese and tune in.

Second Thoughts…

As the title suggests, I'm having some second thoughts. It concerns a commitment I made a few months ago. I made this commitment with the best of intentions, with a strong and fervent desire to see it through. The thing is, I didn't think it would be this hard. Truth be told, I'm having a helluva time sticking to my guns. I'm seriously considering throwing in the towel and calling it a day.

What the hell am I talking about, you ask?

As The Twilight Zone's 50^th anniversary approached, I made the rather ambitious decision to put myself on an "anniversary celebration schedule," in which I would watch all 156 episodes on their respective anniversaries. I would only watch one episode per week, perfectly mimicking the original broadcast schedule (including repeats), for five years. I actually avoided the series entirely for well over a year in anticipation of this undertaking, leaving my glorious Definitive Edition DVD sets to gather dust on the shelf. October 2^nd, the glorious 50^th anniversary of the series' debut on CBS, couldn't come fast enough and, once it did, I was in heaven… and have continued to be, for half an hour each week, for the past 11 weeks.

Until now. You see, there's no episode to celebrate this week. On 12/18/1959, the show was pre-empted by "Iran: Brittle Ally" with Edward R. Murrow (the show was pre-empted a number of times throughout its run… the next one happened on 4/22/1960).

Perhaps it's no coincidence that I'm questioning my commitment to this viewing schedule in the same week that there's no episode to watch. What's the problem, you (impatiently) ask? Why, I'm Zone-dependent, an anxiety-ridden addict, and this one-episode-per-week thing is leaving me seriously Zone-deprived. I crave more. I need more. The thought of not seeing "Shadow Play" for a year and a half just kills me. Worse, "Death Ship" is over THREE YEARS away!

What to do? Well, perhaps I can have the best of both worlds. I could still watch each episode on its 50^th anniversary, but I could also give myself permission to watch as many other episodes as I want from week to week. But... wouldn't that dilute the experience? As I stated in an earlier entry, I committed to this schedule for the express purpose of experiencing the show just as it was originally presented, and hopefully gaining new insight into the show as a result. At first, I enjoyed the resultant anticipation, excitedly counting down the days until the next episode… but lately it's been more frustrating than anything else. Chalk it up to my immediate-gratification-oriented generation, or perhaps my individual lack of patience; either way, the dearth of Zone in my life is starting to drive me crazy. Those beautiful DVD sets just sit there, crying out for attention, and I must turn a perpetually deaf ear to their pleas. And yet, to cave in and give up only 11 weeks in…. well, that would make me pretty weak, wouldn't it?

*Sigh* I dunno. What to do, what to do?

Perhaps a compromise is in order here. Perhaps I could "gift" myself a free episode whenever there's a hole in the schedule (like this week, for example). And since it's almost Christmas, this would allow me to watch "The Night of the Meek," which I usually watch every holiday season (along with A Christmas Story, It's a Wonderful Life, A Charlie Brown Christmas, etc) but was planning to skip because of this so-called "anniversary celebration schedule."

Funny… it's feeling less like a celebration and more like a form of masochism. The Twilight Zone is by far my favorite TV series of all time (and frankly, I love it even more than my favorite movie of all time, Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo), and maybe this experiment, or endeavor, or whatever the hell it is… well, maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. All this self-denial can't be good for the soul. Bottom line --- if I'm not enjoying it, then there's something seriously wrong.

Hence… second thoughts.

Afterthoughts ("The Sixteen-Millimeter Shrine")

If I had to guess, I'd say I haven't watched "The Sixteen-Millimeter Shrine" in at least 10 years, probably closer to 15. However, I watched the entire series several times over throughout my teenage years, so my memories of most of the episodes are still pretty strong.* My 50th anniversary viewing hasn't changed my opinion of it: it's a damned good episode, perhaps falling just short of actual greatness (the kind of greatness I would attribute to episodes such as "Long Live Walter Jameson" or "Death Ship").

It should be noted that writer (and series creator) Rod Serling didn't care much for the finished episode. In fact, in a letter to Raymond Frye (whoever that is/was) a few weeks after the episode's premiere, Serling stated that he "disliked" the episode "intensely." I'm gonna have to disagree with the master on this one.

The parallels to Sunset Boulevard are a bit obvious but never distracting. The performances are top notch (I'm a fan of both the leads, Ida Lupino and Martin Balsam), and the script has that Serling bite that we all know and love. The cinematography is excellent (the projection room scenes, with the cigarette smoke mingling with the flickering glow of the projector, are pure noir beauty). The ending is happy, but with that Zone twist.

Final score: 8.5 out of 10. I don't know why Serling hated it so much.



* There are always exceptions, of course. Case in point: "Ring-A-Ding Girl," from the series' fifth season. I know I've seen it, but I have no memory of it except for a couple of fleeting images. It'll have to wait a few more years: I won't be watching it till 12/27/2013.