TZ Promo: “Nothing in the Dark” (1/05/1962)

Season 3, Episode 16 (#81 overall)
Cayuga Production # 173-3662

Her name is Wanda Dunn. She’s an old woman who lives alone in a shabby tenement, afraid to go outside. She’s convinced that Death himself is out there, just waiting to come in and claim her.

The thing is…. well, she’s right.


“Nothing in the Dark” is a moving study of humanity’s fear of its own mortality, and Gladys Cooper’s portrayal of the frightened old woman is one of the greatest performances ever captured on The Twilight Zone. Cooper will (happily) return for appearances in season four’s “Passage on the Lady Anne” and season five’s “Night Call.” She’s fine in both, but “Nothing in the Dark” is where she truly shines.


Unfortunately, young Robert Redford... well, sucks as the wounded cop who finally convinces her to open the door and help him. Oh, sure, he’s pretty to look at, but he couldn’t act his way out of a paper bag at this early point in his career (I’m not entirely convinced that he ever became that great of an actor, truth be told). As great as “Nothing in the Dark” is, Redford’s embarrassingly bad performance is a serious blemish. I imagine this is why the episode doesn’t appear in my Top 20 Favorites list (it did make my Top 40 list two years ago, however).


O, DEATH!

This is Death’s third (and final... I think) appearance in the series. We’ve encountered him twice before, in “One for the Angels” and “The Hitch-hiker” (both from season one) and, once again, he proves less frightening when his quarry stops struggling and acquiesces, a pleasant alternative to the skull-and-scythe depiction we’ve all seen countless times. Here’s hoping the real Death is a nice guy...

Another connection to “The Hitch-hiker” can be found in the stock music used in the episode. During Death’s surprise (well, not really) reveal near the end, the underscore features cues from Bernard Herrmann’s music for the radio production of “The Hitch-hiker” (which was subsequently used in the TZ adaptation). A nice touch for attentive ears.

Lamont Johnson directs a George Clayton Johnson script (no relation, as far as I know). We just saw Johnson’s directorial chops two weeks ago in “Five Characters in Search of an Exit” but, interestingly enough, he directed “Nothing in the Dark” earlier. Like, way earlier. The production number (173-3662) indicates that this episode was actually produced during the show’s second season, but held back until the third (the same is true of “The Grave,” which we looked at back in October). The opening shot of act one does not feature the usual season three title cards (episode title, writer, director)… we simply open on a shot of Wanda slowly unlocking and opening her front door. The title shot above is from the episode’s end credits (the only place the episode title was ever seen during season two).

In his The Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic (which you need on your shelf; seriously, go NOW and get a copy), Martin Grams Jr. reports that “Nothing in the Dark” was originally scheduled to close the second season, but was replaced by “The Obsolete Man” and held back until midway through season three. This strikes me as odd…. If the episode was ready to go in mid-June, why was it held in limbo for six months? Was Serling and Company as dismayed by Redford's performance as me? In any case, as much as I love “The Obsolete Man,” I think “Nothing in the Dark,” with its elegiac and meditative qualities, would have been more effective as a season finale. But hey, what do I know?

In 1992, a local theater company called Hellfire Productions presented Tales from The Twilight Zone, which included stage adaptations of three TZ episodes: “The Obsolete Man,” “A Game of Pool,” and yes, “Nothing in the Dark.” It’s been almost 20 years, and my memory ain’t what it used to be, but I recall being quite impressed with their efforts.

"Am I really so bad?" Um... yeah, Bobby, you kinda are.

“Nothing in the Dark” is ultimately an exercise in frustration for me. It possesses all the elements of a truly great episode, but Redford’s awkward mannequin routine hurts it enough to cripple its chances at true legend status. As it stands, it’s a Mona Lisa with a crayon mustache. Too bad.

Next week: The world gets nuked yet again… or does it?

TZ Promo: "A Game of Pool" (10/13/1961)

Season 3, Episode 5 (#70 overall)

Cayuga Production #4815

50 years ago tonight, a little David took on a big Goliath. The weapon of choice wasn’t a slingshot, however. It was a pool cue.


“A Game of Pool,” written by George Clayton Johnson and directed by Buzz Kulik, tells the tale of a skilled but relatively unknown pool player named Jesse Cardiff, who longs to be the best at the game. He’s streetwise and cocky, a bit full of himself, hungry for fame and glory. Late one night, alone in a pool hall, he loudly challenges deceased pool great Fats Brown to a game. Jesse’s just shooting off his mouth, of course, and you can’t really challenge the dead… but this is The Twilight Zone. Fats Brown materializes before his eyes, and the game is on.


The game itself is a tense, well-staged roller coaster, infused with great character moments (Jesse describes all the life pleasures he’s eschewed in order to focus on the game; Fats, meanwhile, names off all the life pleasures he valued over the game; it’s a nice juxtaposition of priorities). When Jesse takes that final life-or-death shot, it’s one of those wonderful edge-of-your-seat moments. You like Jesse, and you want him to win despite his obvious hubris issue, but since it’s The Twilight Zone, a happy ending isn’t always guaranteed (I’m looking at you, “Time Enough at Last”) . Further, happy endings aren’t always what they’re cracked up to be (that’s you, “A Nice Place to Visit”). There, that’s as close to a spoiler as you’re gonna get outta me this week.


It’s no surprise that Klugman shines here; in his youth, he excelled in this type of “downtrodden-but-scrappy” role. What IS a surprise is the nice-guy-tinged-with-menace performance turned in by Jonathan Winters as Fats Brown (yes, THAT Jonathan Winters, the guy who played the giant baby on TV’s Mork & Mindy). You might expect some goofy cheese, but this Winters portrait is the real deal: terse and serious, not to mention downright scary when he first appears. The two actors play off one another beautifully. This is a perfect episode, perfectly executed, and it’s right at home in my top ten favorites list.



REMAKES, REMAKES, REMAKES!

“A Game of Pool” was remade during the 80’s Twilight Zone revival series on CBS. This time, Johnson’s original ending was used, in which the outcome is reversed from what we see in the original episode. The remake features Esai Morales and Maury Chaykin in the Klugman and Winters roles, and is actually fairly effective (as far as remakes go).


Curiously, Johnson himself directed his own production a couple of years ago, also utilizing his original ending (I saw it here, but I'm not sure the link still works). I hate to say it, but it’s a wasted effort. Here are my thoughts, originally posted over at The Twilight Zone Café on 10/27/2009:

“I watched it today. Unfortunately, it doesn't touch the original (for that matter, the 80s remake is superior too) IMHO. I didn't care much for the actor playing Jesse (he seems a bit old for the part, and he tends to rush through critical sections of dialogue early on), but the actor playing Fats (well, Duke here) is suitably ominous. I can't decide if I like the underscore or not... it seems too modern for the material. And the pool sound effects don't mesh well with the soundtrack. I think my single biggest complaint, though, is the complete lack of actual pool footage! Film is a VISUAL medium. We need to see the damned balls, especially when a specific shot is referenced in the dialogue. All in all, it just seems unnecessary to me. Between the original and 80's versions, both endings are covered. What's the point?”

So... there ya go. Don't let my low opinion stop you from checking it out.



“A Game of Pool” was also performed live right here in Portland back in 1995 (retitled “The Pool Player” for some unknown reason) as part of Tales from The Twilight Zone, a stage adaption of three episodes. As I recall, the players simply described the shots as they took them, which I guess worked well enough (I don’t remember if they used sound effects or not). If I found myself mounting a stage production of this particular episode (hey, never say never), I’d have my actors fake the shots and employ a simple laptop/projector setup (we use ‘em here at work for training purposes) to display pre-filmed footage of each shot. I guess that would make it a multimedia show of sorts. Cool.

Next week: Columbo + Castro = Crappy episode. Ugh.

TZ Promo: “The Obsolete Man” (6/02/1961)

“The Obsolete Man” (6/02/1961)
Season Two, Episode 29 (65 overall)
Cayuga Production # 173-3661

“There is no God. The State has proven that there is no God!”

The Chancellor bellows pro-State sentiments from his impossibly high lectern. A meek librarian stands below, the reality of the situation sinking in. He has been found obsolete. He is to be executed.


TZ alums Burgess Meredith (“Time Enough at Last,” “Printer’s Devil,” and, sadly, “Mr. Dingle, the Strong”) and Fritz Weaver (“Third from the Sun”) return as the librarian and the chancellor, respectively, and both turn in excellent performances. When we meet them, the chancellor is vicious and predatory, while the librarian is weak and fearful. By the end of the episode, the tables aren’t so much turned as flipped over and smashed.


The first half of the episode takes place in a futuristic courtroom, which looks like something out of a German Impressionistic nightmare (was director Silverstein channeling Fritz Lang?). The door that Meredith enters through is impossibly tall, for no apparent reason other than to amp up the ominousness quotient.


Rod Serling’s “The Obsolete Man,” directed by Eliot Silverstein, is an absolute classic. This is one of those episodes in which every component operates at maximum greatness, and the combined result is transcendent. “The Eye of the Beholder” is frequently cited as the all-time greatest episode of The Twilight Zone but, for my money, “The Obsolete Man” trumps it. I recently revised my Top Ten Favorites list to include it, and I can’t wait to watch it tonight, on its 50th anniversary, in glorious high definition (thanks, Image Entertainment!).


In 1995, a local theater company called Hellfire Productions performed “The Obsolete Man” (along with “A Game of Pool” and “Nothing in the Dark”), complete with an actor performing Rod Serling’s narration. I was fortunate enough to attend, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I still have the program:

Front.

Inside.

Back, for completeness' sake.

In between episodes (okay, acts), they had a TZ trivia contest. As I recall, one of the questions asked which two actors starred in the most episodes. The answer is, of course, Jack Klugman and Burgess Meredith, which I’m happy to say I answered correctly (I don’t recall getting a prize, however). After the play, I got myself on their mailing list. They produced nine more episode adaptations over the next 3 years... but for some unfathomable reason, I never saw them. I still have the postcards they sent me advertising each production, which I'll scan and post sometime soon. In fact, I'm hoping to track down somebody connected with the production for an interview...

The music in “The Obsolete Man,” is sourced from Bernard Herrmann’s score for the CBS Radio Workshop’s 1956 adaptation of Aldous Huxley’s “Brave New World.” This score (like much of Herrmann’s radio work) was subsequently added to the CBS Music Library, and its various cues found their way into several TZ episodes. The score was released on vinyl in the early 80s by Cerberus Records (Bernard Herrmann: Music for Radio and Television), and on CD in 2003 by Prometheus (Bernard Herrmann: The CBS Years Volume 2: American Gothic).

Next week: The summer rerun season kicks off with a bang. We return to where it all started: Earl Holliman stars as a lonely man with no memory, wandering through an empty town and wondering… say it with me now… “WHERE IS EVERYBODY?”