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.

.

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).

.

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.

Episode Spotlight: "Sounds and Silences" (4/03/1964)

Season 5, Episode 27 (147 overall)

Originally aired 4/03/1964

Cayuga Production # 2631

Fifty years ago, a man found himself victimized by a surreal, aural nightmare. Besieged by unknown forces, he bravely attempts to…. oh, screw it. I can’t polish this turd, nor am I inclined to try.

Roswell G. Flemington is obsessed with all things nautical, particularly recordings of actual naval battles, which he regularly blares at full volume. After twenty years of wedded misery, his wife finally leaves him, after which his hearing becomes inexplicably sensitive: quiet sounds like dripping water become deafening roars to him. He sees a doctor, who refers him a psychiatrist, who makes the staggeringly clinical diagnosis that it's all in his head; moreover, he can choose to exercise control over it.

Bolstered, Flemington goes home, where he finds his estranged wife, there to pick up the last of her things. He uses “mind over matter” to reduce her voice to a whisper. Smugly satisfied, he goes to play one of his beloved naval battle records, which he finds he can’t hear at all. He then comes to the horrifying realization that he can’t hear anything at all.

Well folks, here it is: the single worst episode of season five. I’m not quite prepared to place it below “Mr. Bevis” or “Four O’clock,” but I’ll definitely rank it in the bottom five of the entire series. First and foremost, there’s almost no story at all. Loud guy suddenly develops super-sensitive hearing, and then abruptly (and presumably) loses his hearing entirely. That's it. It’s essentially a depiction of a man losing a vital sensory function. How is that a Twilight Zone? Is causing an asshole to become disabled really Cosmic Justice?

I could almost find it in myself to sympathize with the ol' guy a bit. Almost. Not quite.

It doesn’t help matters that Flemington is such a complete and utter tool, or that there’s a ridiculous amount of overacting on John McGiver’s part, particularly every time he (over)reacts to the exaggerated sounds around him (it’s almost as if he’s using his facial expressions to compete with them). Seriously, how flagrantly obnoxious can one character be? Flemington makes previous Obnoxiometer™ placers like Roger Shackleforth and George P. Hanley seem positively likable by comparison. In fact.... I can't believe I'm about to do this, but.... 

That's right.... he's worse than James B.W. Bevis. That's quite a feat, Mr. Flemington.

“Sounds and Silences” is yet another episode that, once aired, resulted in somebody crying plagiarism and suing Cayuga Productions. Since litigation was still pending, the episode wasn’t included in the syndication package, and remained buried for 20 years. When the series turned 25 in 1984, it was resurrected along with vault-mates “Miniature” and “A Short Drink from a Certain Fountain” for a syndicated special. The episode is now easily viewed via Hulu and Netflix, and can be acquired in the various DVD and Blu-ray iterations of the series.

Rod Serling had to have known his teleplay was an utter piece of shit; however, he clearly didn’t care anymore at this late point in the series. There’s a whiff of season two’s “The Mind and the Matter” as Flemington utilizes what he calls “mind over matter” to minimize the sound of his wife’s voice. Serling wrote that one too; I guess it’s the closest to an antecedent we’ll find for “Sounds and Silences.” In the director’s chair this week is Richard Donner, who also helmed “From Agnes - With Love” (‘nuff said).

THE MUSIC

“Sounds and Silences” is notable (I guess) for having no actual underscore; aside from the copious sound effects herein, there are only a few brief snatches of nautical source cues played on Flemington’s hi-fi.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

I despise Roswell G. Flemington; however, I do like John McGiver quite a bit. We last saw him in season four’s “The Bard" but, to me, he’ll always be the noble democrat Senator Thomas Jordan in 1962’s The Manchurian Candidate.

Mrs. Flemington (no first name, apparently) is played by Penny Singleton, probably best known as Blondie Bumstead in the long-running Blondie film series (1938-1950). If she sounds more familiar than she looks, it’s because you've undoubtedly heard her as the voice of Jane Jetson on TV’s The Jetsons.

Michael Fox plays the unnamed psychiatrist (I love how the nameplate on his door reads, simply, “Psychiatrist”). This is his third sojourn into The Twilight Zone: he played the doctor in season one’s “Nightmare as a Child,” and was one half of the two-head Martian in season two’s “Mr. Dingle, the Strong.” He also popped up on the 80’s Twilight Zone revival in “A Message from Charity."

Francis de Sales plays the unnamed doctor (give these people some names, for Rod’s sake!). Genre fans may have spotted him in the Outer Limits episode “The Mice,” which also turned 50 recently.

“Sounds and Silences,” like its protagonist, is all bluster and no substance; there’s honestly nothing of value here. The completest in me is relieved that it’s available along with its Lost Five kin, but its relative rarity doesn’t change the fact that it’s one of the worst offerings in the entire series. I’m filing it under “S” for “sucks” and turning a deaf ear to it for the rest of my days. 

Next week:

Season three's "The Dummy" gets a late-in-the-game surprise repeat airing, and---- wait, what? It's not a repeat? It's a new episode? We're doing another dummy story?  Really....?

Episode Spotlight: “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” (2/28/1964)

Season 5, Episode 22 (142 overall)

Originally aired 2/28/1964

Cayuga Production # (N/A)

Fifty years ago tonight, as it stumbled awkwardly toward its disappointing end, The Twilight Zone pitched a 7th-inning curve ball and brought a healthy dose of art house cinema to the masses. No, they didn't rerun “Five Characters in Search of an Exit.”

In 1962, Robert Enrico's La Rivière du Hibou (The Owl River), a French adaptation of Ambrose Bierce’s classic short story “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” won first prize for Best Short Subject at the Cannes Film Festival. A year or so later, The Twilight Zone was finishing up its fifth season, over budget and one episode short of its network order. Producing that 36th episode would put the show even further into the red.

Sounds like the ingredients for a fascinating collision, no?

Cayuga Productions purchased the US television rights to the film for a paltry $20,000.00, and aired it as a special episode of The Twilight Zone fifty years ago tonight. The film subsequently won an Oscar for Best Live Action Short Film for 1963, mere weeks after it aired. The agreement only covered one broadcast and one repeat (which occurred on 9/11/64), which prevented its inclusion in the syndication package, making “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” one of the legendary “Lost Five” episodes.

While you won't find "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" on TV, it’s easily tracked down on DVD, Blu-ray, Netflix and Hulu (as of this writing). It can also be found in its original, unedited (and un-TZified) form on a region 2 DVD (which also includes two other short films directed by Robert Enrico from Ambrose Bierce stories). I have a multi-region player, so yes, I own the DVD. 

So what’s the difference between the two versions? Mostly cosmetic stuff: a couple of minutes were shaved off to meet the strict 25-minute length requirement of American television, but honestly, nothing important was lost (the film meanders some, so tightening it up actually improves it). And since it wasn’t made for TV, there’s no commercial break in the original. And of course there’s no Twilight Zone opening titles or end credits, and no Rod Serling narration. Oh, and the original doesn't have any tubes of Crest hovering around in the end credits (damn you, product placement!). Otherwise… they’re essentially the same. It’s not like a Blade Runner situation with dramatically different cuts that alter the story. Short and sweet: you aren’t missing anything if you never see the original. And frankly, the improved picture you get with the TZ version on Blu-ray is pretty substantial.

I first saw the film in middle school, projected in 8mm, shortly after discovering The Twilight Zone. I’d already bought Zicree’s book and practically memorized it, so I was aware that there were five episodes that I might never get to see. Therefore, when my English teacher started that projector, I was extra attentive.

Fast forward to high school: I was hanging out at the mall one day (which is pretty much what you did if you were a teen in the late-80’s), and I was rooting through a bin of clearance VHS tapes at Sam Goody. I saw the face of my idol, Rod Serling, staring out at me from that bin. I snatched the tape up.

I’d never heard of Kids Klassics before, but they were aces in my book, for they’d released the Twilight Zone version of “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” something I thought I'd never see, and it was about to be mine. I hurried to the checkout line, in case the hallucination might wear off. I enjoyed the hell out of that tape (it contained Serling’s “next week” promo for “Queen of the Nile”; I never knew that those even existed, since I’d only seen the series in hacked-up form in syndication). Three or four years later, the episode appeared on VHS in a legitimate form: it was part of the two-tape Treasures of The Twilight Zone (which also featured another previously-unattainable Lost Five episode, “The Encounter”). Later still, the episode showed up in two different DVD incarnations and, more recently, Blu-ray.

THE MUSIC

There’s not much underscore to be found in “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” outside of the some free jazz-style drumming that underlines the protagonist's frantic flight back toward home. The real musical heart of the film lies in the song “Live Livin' Man,” which we first hear when the protagonist first resurfaces after plummeting from the bridge (fragments of the song appear here and there throughout the rest of the film). Here’s my attempt to reconstruct the pieces into one song:

FAMILIAR FACES

Robert Jacquet as Payton Fahrquar.

None. It’s a French film, kids. Nobody in it showed up on other Twilight Zones. I dunno, though, fans of classic French cinema might see somebody they recognize. I tend toward Kurosawa and Bergman myself, but I do love me some Jean Cocteau (particularly Orpheus).

In or around 1993 I made a short film called “Welcome to Nowhere," a modern variation on the Bierce story. It centered on a disabled vet who, under some extraordinary circumstance, regains the use of his legs in a moment of crisis… or does he?  I wrote, directed and starred in it, my (then) wife Lisa did most of the shooting, and my uncle Greg had a cameo as an evil clown (is there any other kind?).  I actually contacted CBS to get permission to use various TZ music cues, but was denied (more to the point, I couldn't afford what they were asking). I ended up using a couple anyway (from Jerry Goldsmith’s “Back There” and “The Invaders”). I entered the finished film in an annual amateur filmmakers contest put on by Sony. I didn’t win.

WELCOME TO NOWHERE (2 OR 3 MORE SCREEN CAPS)

The short reeks of amateur bullshit, and I'm certainly not proud of it, but you know what? Fuck it. Is this is My Life in the Shadow of The Twilight Zone, or isn’t it? I’ve lamented in the past that I haven’t invested enough personal stuff into this blog. So here you go. It’s kind of a slog, but it’s got a couple of good moments. And damn, I had such thick hair back then.

VIDEO – WELCOME TO NOWHERE

Well kids, I tried. I dug through box after box after box in my storage until, and could not for the life of me find the goddamned tape. I couldn't even find my raw 8mm footage, which would have at least provided some screen caps. I found literally every other video project I've ever worked on, but "Welcome to Nowhere" eluded me. If I'm able to track it down between now and the end of this blog, I'll certainly post it.

It’s hard to judge “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” against the rest of the series, since it’s not technically a Twilight Zone episode. Taken on its own terms, it’s an excellent rendering of a classic tale, an all-around gorgeous package. Actual TZ or not, it’s a definite high point of the show’s fifth and final season.

Next week:

Lee Phillips falls victim to a pyramid scheme. MeSphinx he’ll get his asp kicked.