When this classic franchise premiered on television over sixty years ago, it spawned
its own genre. Some of its stories had elements of horror or science fiction,
but in nearly every installment, fate played an active and ironic role in characters’
lives and fates. We know what a “Twilight Zone” story means, but writing a good
one is no easy task. Yet, the example of the original series has inspired three
follow-up TV series, a theatrical film, and multiple runs of comic books. Real series
fans have to give the latest comic incarnation props for printing the stories
in glorious black-and-white. Consequently, fans will experience some of those
good old eerie vibes when they read IDW’s The Twilight Zone: Stories from
the Fifth Dimension, a bind-up of issues #1-5, which goes on-sale tomorrow.
These
stories never have an “on-screen” presenter, which is maybe a missed
opportunity, but it is maybe more respectful of the late, great Rod Serling that
way. However, the covers often visually allude to classic episodes, as well as
the art of the title sequences. Fittingly, the first story, “Blanks,” written
by Dan Watters and featuring Morgan Beem’s art, is by far the most Twilight
Zone-ish of the collection.
A
cutting-edge medical researcher has been summoned to a remote island laboratory
and treatment center, with the goal of literally curing death. The billionaire
funding the research has only a few months to live, so he insists on serving as
the first test subject. However, when he wakes, he finds the serum has been
successful, but has also caused some highly ironic (a word you have to over-use
when writing about the Twilight Zone) unintended side effects. Cue that
famous music. This is a particularly good “issue” because Watters’ narrative
allows Beem to create images that are reminiscent of classic episodes, but the
particulars are entirely specific to this story.
“World of
Your Wildest Dreams” written and drawn by Tom Scioli, also starts with very Zone-worthy
premise, as a crew of astronauts approach a mysterious planet to explore. What
happens on the surface initially feels somewhat familiar (in fact, Star Trek
fans might notice similarities to one of that series’ classic episodes).
However, Scioli gives it another half-twist at the end, which gives it an ironically
sad tone. It also represents a bit of a ringer in the collection, because
Scioli uses color tints. Ordinarily, that would not be an issue, but it sort of
feels like cheating, when compared to the other stories.
Frankly,
writer-artist James Stokoe’s “The Relic” might be the weakest link, even though
his post-apocalyptic art is often stunning. However, the heavy-handed treatment
of its themes (particularly the legacy of American “commercialism”) often feels
like a finger-wagging lecture.
If ever there was a city that laid “between science and superstition” and “between
the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge,” it would be Las Vegas.
In this town, the surreal is the everyday. So, what better place for Twilight
Zone-themed miniature golf? Fans will enjoy the nostalgia and the course
design of the 18-hole Twilight Zone Mini Golf in the lower level of Las Vegas’s
Horseshoe.
Naturally,
you start the course by walking through the famous doorway. The first hole is largely
dedicated to the imagery of the opening credits, but most subsequent holes are
devoted specific episodes. Hardcore mini golf enthusiasts might be disappointed
there are not a lot of contraptions built into the holes. Instead, most of the
challenges involve carom shots. However, they often cleverly employ stacks of
books as obstacles, in reference to “Time Enough at Last.” The classic Burgess
Meredith episode also inspired one of the most elaborate holes, built to
resemble the post-apocalyptic wreckage of the public library.
Other
highlights include the hole dedicated to “The Invaders,” featuring models of
the “aliens” that torment Agnes Moorehead. A number of the show’s creatures
have been placed amid the course, such as the eyeball giant from “The Fear,”
for your selfie pleasure. The walls also feature dozens of cool murals
depicting scenes from iconic episodes, like “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” “Eye of
the Beholder,” and “The Hitch-Hiker.” Plus, the black-light glow-in-the-dark
balls further set the right mood.
Fans
should try to challenge players who are less familiar with the classic series,
because they will surely appreciate it if you obsessively explain the cultural significance
of each hole’s episode while they are trying to putt. We’re just trying to help
them enjoy the full experience, right?
Regardless,
the Mini Golf course should remind us all just how remarkable The Twilight
Zone remains as a series. Other successful shows premiered in 1959, but it
is hard to imagine a mini golf course devoted to Rawhide or Bonanza.
Yet, what might be most incredible is how little most Twilight Zone episodes
have been impacted by the intervening advances in technology. Most of them hold
up just as well today as when they were first broadcast.
When The Shift released in theaters, some critics were scandalized by the
very notion of Evangelical science fiction. Yet, some of the best science
fiction of all-time has been shaped by Christian faith, including novels by
C.S. Lewis, Madeleine L’Engle, Gene Wolfe, and Walter M. Miller Jr. Viewers
could also see legit Christian-themed sf during the Golden Age of Television,
including “The Bitter Storm” episode of Tales of Tomorrow. However, one
of the greatest examples came from an unimpeachable liberal, Rod Serling, who
wrote “The Obsolete Man,” one of the best episodes of The Twilight Zone,
which airs tomorrow as part of SyFy’s annual Twilight Zone New Year’s
marathon.
Before
“Time Enough at Last” (the post-apocalyptic tale of the bibliophile who breaks
his glasses) Burgess Meredith starred as Romney Wordsworth, a former librarian
who has been declared “obsolete” now that books are illegal. After a nearly
two-year investigation, he has been sentenced to death, but he is granted permission
to choose the particulars.
Even
during his initial hearing, Wordsworth directly invokes his faith in a
Christian God, whereas the Chancellor openly expresses admiration for Hitler
and Stalin. Later in the episode, Wordsworth invites the militantly atheist
Chancellor to visit him during his final moments, to listen to him read the
Psalms. That was not what the Chancellor had in mind, but Wordsworth turns the tables
on him, thanks in part to his carpentry skills. Get the significance—he is also
a carpenter.
“The
Obsolete Man” is one of the most under-appreciated Twilight Zone episodes
and one of the greatest dystopian science fiction productions of any length.
Meredith is genuinely inspiring as Wordsworth and Fritz Weaver perfectly
channels the mindset of statist extremists. As the Chancellor grows more
desperate, he truly shows the oppressive bully to be a coward at heart.
The Twilight Zone was
prestige television before prestige television. Rod Serling wrote a heck of a
lot of it, but George Clayton Johnson was one of a handful of regular writers
who also contributed. Johnson also co-wrote one of the most ripped-off
dystopian novels of all time (looking at you, Hunger Games). He was
never as well known as his colleagues, but Johnson inspired hipper fans, like
Henry Chamberlain who tells his life story as the writer and artist of George’s
Run: A Writer's Journey Through the Twilight Zone, which goes on-sale today.
Johnson
came out of obscure poverty in remote Wyoming (as Chamberlain tells us multiple
times), but somehow in Hollywood, he talked his way into a group of genre
writers fittingly known as “The Group.” Members included Richard Matheson,
Robert Bloch, and Johnson’s eventual co-writer on Logan’s Run, William
F. Nolan. Charles Beaumont was their unofficial leader and Ray Bradbury was
their godfather. Serling was the boss, who produced some of the best work of
Johnson, Matheson, and Beaumont on The Zone.
By
far, the best stuff in George’s Run describes the behind-the-scenes camaraderie
of his Twilight Zone years. Chamberlain also nicely covers Logan’s
Run, Roger Corman’s The Intruder (in which Johnson played a
supporting role), and the screenwriter’s big break, the screenplay for the original
Ocean’s Eleven. However, some readers might be confused by the references
to Icarus Montgolfier Wright, the Oscar-nominated animated short he and
Bradbury co-adapted from Bradbury’s short story. On the surface, the 1956 story
has been rendered obsolete by the advance developments of the U.S. space
program, but the short film remains an eerily powerful allegory.
Fictional Rock Spring School has quite a rigorous academic calendar, considering
its classes remain in schedule through Christmas Eve. Sadly, Prof. Ellis Fowler
last class of the term might be his last day ever, or perhaps not. When it
comes to Christmas episodes of uncanny anthology series, everyone usually
focuses on The Twilight Zone’s “Night of the Meek,” because of the Santa
suit, but for pure seasonal sentiment it is tough to beat “The Changing of the
Guard,” another foray into the Zone written by the great Rod Serling
himself.
Fowler
presents himself like a Prof. Kingsfield, but deep down, he is a real softy.
That is why his students really love him, even though they jokingly refer to
him as “Weird Beard.” Unfortunately, the prep school administration does not
appreciate him as much. Since he has long declined to retire, despite having
well passed the qualifying age, they have decided to make the decision for him.
After all, he insists on teaching dead white male writers like John Donne and
A.E. Housman. Now they can finally bring in a Third World Studies specialist to
replace him (at least that is what would happen if the episode were set in
contemporary times).
Believing
himself a failure, the despondent Fowler returns to campus intending to commit
suicide in his classroom. However, is shocked to find there an assembly of his
former students, who died young in service to their country. What starts as Goodbye
Mr. Chips turns into It’s a Wonderful Life, ironically just when
Fowler takes his detour into The Twilight Zone.
This
episode offers up all kinds of heartstring tugging and moral uplift, but it
also should be conclusively cement Donald Pleasence’s standing as a genre
legend. Years after his death, his forceful performance as Dr. Sam Loomis
continues to loom over and drive the Halloween franchise. He was a Bond
villain and appeared with Peter Cushing in films like the The Devil’s Men and
From Beyond the Grave, yet he is often unfairly overlooked for his significant
Twilight Zone appearance that is much more akin to his classic
supporting performance in The Great Escape.
In 1957, Gary Crosby released a very nice album of big band jazz vocals arranged
and conducted by the great Bud Shank. Judging from how rarely you see it turn
up in record stores, it probably didn’t sell very well. However, Crosby had
several hits during his career, but they were mostly duets with his famous
father, Bing. That would be the same Bing Crosby whose abusive treatment was
the exposed in his son’s infamous tell-all memoir. In retrospect, the late
Crosby son is considered a rather tragically sad figure, which makes his
appearance in The Twilight Zone even more poignant. As ill-fate dictates,
the song-hunting rockabilly singer he plays does not find the hit he is looking
for in “Come Wander with Me,” airing tomorrow morning on Syfy.
You
can smell Floyd “The Rock-A-Billy Kid” Burney’s desperation. His career might
have held promise once, but he is seriously scuffling now. Hoping to emulate
the success of others, Burney is scouring Appalachia in search of unrecorded
(and uncopyrighted) folk songs that have a hooky, archetypal appeal. Of course,
the proprietor of mist-shrouded general store is not very welcoming. The
tombstone with his name inscribed on it is even more ominous, but Burney never
sees it.
He
is more interested in the waifish Mary Rachel, who is singing “Come Wander with
Me,” a wistful ballad that sounds just like what the doctor ordered for Burney.
He does not recognize her, but she thinks they are lovers—and their affair is
doomed to end violently, because it always has before.
Arguably,
“Wander” earns significant bragging rights an early forerunner of the time-loop
genre, but writer Anthony Wilson does not emphasize its implied cyclical nature.
Instead, director Richard Donner (famous for Superman and Lethal
Weapon) invests the proceeding with an unearthly vibe, evocative of
purgatory or an even less desirable post-death destination. This is maybe the
most twilight-like atmosphere ever seen in The Twilight Zone. It
is all very eerie and even more melancholy. Perhaps the fact this was the final
episode produced of the original series (but the third to last broadcast as
part of the final season) somehow further heightened the elegiac feeling.
It is an early red state-blue state culture-clash that takes an uncanny
turn. State Trooper Robert Franklin is a military veteran state trooper. Charlotte
Scott is a neurotic New York fashion editor recovering from a nervous
breakdown. If they put aside their differences, they might survive an encounter
with the unknown in “The Fear,” the penultimate episode of the original The
Twilight Zone series, which airs as part of Syfy’s annual New Year’s Twilight
Zone marathon.
Trooper
Franklin thinks he is on a fool’s errand and Scott is the fool. The passive-aggressive
big-city snob reported seeing lights in sky, so he duly drives out to her cabin
to investigate. She is not very welcoming, until some mysterious force starts wreaking
havoc on electrical things. Then he finds a gigantic set of fingerprints on his
cruiser.
They
are about as archetypal as it gets (thanks to Jack and all), but you don’t see
a lot of giants in genre film or television. Of course, it sounds crazy, but
Serling’s script uses the idea of them in clever ways. Yet, what really makes
the episode stand out is the way Franklin and Scott come to an understanding and
put aside their kneejerk presumptions about each other.
It
was sort of horror and sometimes science fiction, but The Twilight Zone was
really a genre unto itself. Still, it is somewhat strange to think how few of
the old school horror movie stars turned up in guest-starring roles (of course,
Karloff had his own competing shows at the time, Thriller and The
Veil). However, not only did the great John Carradine take a detour through
the “dimension of sight, sound, and mind,” his episode also happens to be one
of the most gothic of the series. Yet, it remains a perennial fan and critic
favorite. Celebrating its 60th anniversary this year, “The Howling
Man” (S2E5) airs this Monday morning on Syfy.
Charles
Beaumont, the third great Zone writer after Rod Serling and Richard Matheson,
adapted “Howling Man” from his own short story—and he has been ripped off
several times since (most notably by I Trapped the Devil). During the
aftermath of WWI, David Ellington commenced a walking tour of southern Europe
in search of meaning. Caught in a freak deluge, he tries to take refuge in an
austere abbey, but the rustic brothers try to turn him away. It is only when he
collapses from weakness that they relent. However, when he comes to, he
confronts Brother Jerome, demanding to know why they imprisoned the bearded man
wailing in a dungeon cell. Of course, the monk tries to convince him that is
not a man, but rather someone much more sinister.
Tightly
helmed by veteran TV director Douglas Heyes, “The Howling Man” has lost none of
its power in sixty years. It is scary, but it is even more disturbing on a
philosophical and metaphysical level. It is easy for viewers to place themselves
in Ellington’s position and imagine the resulting guilt and torment. Technically,
it is also a great TV production, featuring sets worthy of the old Universal
monster movies and cinematographer George T. Clemens’ surprisingly dramatic angles
and framing.
