Twilight Zone Companion

by Marc Scott Zicree

  For the lead in Nothing in the Dark, Johnson recruited an actress he had directed on the stage. Gladys Cooper, a reigning beauty on the London stage in World War I, had come to America and played such roles as Joan Fontaines sister-in-law in Rebecca, Bette Daviss mother in Now Voyager; and Rex Harrisons mother in My Fair Lady. I insisted on Gladys for the role, says Lamont Johnson. She was a great lady of the theater, and she had an elegant, polished London Mayfair kind of speech, but it seemed incongruous for that character, whos a sort of an Apple Mary character. Everybody said, Oh, shes such a great elegant lady, how could she possibly … ? I said, She can do it. And I talked to her, and she thought it was a terrific idea.

  Gladys Cooper agreed with Lamont Johnson that her normal accent wouldnt fit this character. So she tried various accents for me, recalls Johnson, one a kind of North Country, which was still too fanciful, and then she had a nice kind of nasal, low London quality that was just a bit common and slightly whiney, which was just right.

  George Clayton Johnson at first found this a dubious improvement. When I heard her first talking with the cockney accent, I didnt think it would work. I thought she should play it with her own voice, an old womans voice. But she said, No, no. She started to do this strange British accentand I fell right into believing it.

  As Wanda, Gladys Cooper plays her part with a fraility that is real and immediate. Clearly, this is a character who is living solely by the strength of her determination not to die.

  Another strong addition to the cast is R. G. Armstrong as the man contracted to demolish the tenement in which Wanda lives. Brutal and violentalthough not by intentionits he we at first mistake for Mr. Death. Soon, this misconception is dispelled. Nevertheless, it is he who mouths, by proxy, a defense of Mr. Deaths actions (although, to him, he is merely defending his own job): People get the idea that Im some kind of destroyer, they think I get kicks out of tearing stuff down. That aint the way it is. I just clear the ground so that other people can build. In a way, I help them do it. Look around, its the way things are. A big tree falls and new ones grow out of the same ground. Old animals die and young ones take their places. Even people step aside when its time.

  What Johnson is getting at in his script is the notion that death, rather than being something frightening, is simply part of the natural process. Mr. Death turns out not to be the hard, uncaring construction man, but rather the sympathetic and angelic-looking cop. And when he finally does touch the old woman, her death comes so gently that at first she is unaware of it. You see? says Mr. Death. No shock. No engulfment. No tearing asunder. What you feared would come like an explosion is like a whisper. What you thought was the end is the beginning.

  If there is anything that mars the eloquence of Nothing in the Dark, it is the presence of Robert Redford, who performs with all the emotion of a male mannequinwhich he strongly resembles. Ironically, one of the lines he delivers, in a leaden monotone, is, Am I really so bad?

  He was very new, says Lamont Johnson. I saw him on Playhouse 90 in a one-scene part with Charles Laughton [in Serlings In the Presence of Mine Enemies], and I thought he was amazing. I mean, I thought he was amazing looking. I thought if you had somebody who had those kind of blazing eyes and that candor and that kind of American Beauty about him, hed be great for this cop as I was reading it.

  Nothing in the Dark is too well-written to be overwhelmed by one weak performance. It remains a thoughtful and moving statement on old age and the fear of death.

  For all her involvement in the show, for all she gave to it, Gladys Cooper did not see the episode until a year later, when she was filming Passage on the Lady Anne. John Conwell, then assistant to the producer: I ran it for her after we were through shooting that day. She didnt even relate to it as herself. She kept saying, Oh, look at that woman, look at that old lady. She was very moved by it, but it was like she was not watching herself at all.

  ITS A GOOD LIFE (11/3/61)

  Written by Rod Serling

  Based on the short story Its a Good Life by Jerome Bixby

  Producer: Buck Houghton

  Director: James Sheldon

  Director of Photography: George T. Clemens

  Music: stock

  Cast:

  Anthony Fremont: Billy Mumy Mr. Fremont: John Larch Mrs. Fremont: Cloris Leachman Aunt Amy: Alice Frost Dan Hollis: Don Keefer Ethel Hollis: Jeanne Bates Pat Riley: Casey Adams Bill Soames: Tom Hatcher Thelma Dunn: Lenore Kingston

  Tonights story on The Twilight Zone is somewhat unique and calls for a different kind of introduction. This, as you may recognize, is a map of the United States, and theres a little town there called Peaksville. On a given morning not too long ago, the rest of the world disappeared and Peaksville was left all alone. Its inhabitants were never sure whether the world was destroyed and only Peaksville left untouched or whether the village had somehow been taken away. They were, on the other hand, sure of one thing: the cause. A monster had arrived in the village. Just by using his mind, he took away the automobiles, the electricity, the machines because they displeased him and he moved an entire community back into the dark ages just by using his mind. Now Id like to introduce you to some of the people in Peaksville, Ohio. This is Mr. Fremont. Its in his farmhouse that the monster resides. This is Mrs. Fremont. And this is Aunt Amy, who probably had more control over the monster in the beginning than almost anyone. But one day she forgot; she began to sing aloud. Now, the monster doesnt like singing, so his mind snapped at her, turned her into the smiling, vacant thing youre looking at now. She sings no more. And youll note that the people in Peaksville, Ohio, have to smile; they have to think happy thoughts and say happy things because, once displeased, the monster can wish them into a cornfield or change them into a grotesque,

  walking horror. This particular monster can read minds, you see. He knows every thought, he can feel every emotion. Oh yes, I did forget something, didnt I? I forgot to introduce you to the monster. This is the monster. His name is Anthony Fremont. Hes six years old, with a cute little-boy face and blue, guileless eyes. But when those eyes look at you, youd better start thinking happy thoughts, because the mind behind them is absolutely in charge. This is the Twilight Zone.

  During a surprise party at the Fremont house, Dan Hollis receives a present of a Perry Como record but he cant play it in front of Anthony for fear of what might happen. Resentful, he begins to drink heavily then breaks into song. The other adults are aghast as Anthonys attention turns on him. Frantically, Hollis pleads with the others to kill Anthony while he is distracted. However, none of them can summon the courage to act; Anthony turns Hollis into a huge jack-in-the-box, then dispatches the body to the cornfield. In the shocked moments that follow, Anthony causes snow to fall outsidesomething that will kill off half the crops. But its good that youre making it snow, Anthony, its real good, says his father, with fear and a touch of hysteria, And tomorrowtomorrows gonna be a real good day

  No comment here, no comment at all. We only wanted to introduce you to one of our very special citizens, little Anthony Fremont, who lives in a place called Peaksville in a place that used to be Ohio. And if by some strange chance you should run across him, you had best think only good thoughts. Anything less than that is handled at your own risk, because if you do meet Anthony you can be sure of one thing: you have entered the Twilight Zone.

  The first Serling script to be produced this season was an adaptation of Jerome Bixbys classic short story, Its a Good Life, which originally appeared in 1953 and was reprinted in Science Fiction Hall of Fame (Doubleday, 1971). Telling the story of a monstrous, conscienceless child with enormous powers and no restraints, it is truly a horrifying story.

  At this late date, I dont remember how the idea for Its a Good Life came to me, says Jerome Bixby. I wrote it over a weekend in 1953, with no sleep Saturday night.

  Oddly, Serling did the screenplay, then bought the rights to the story a few days later.

  In adapting the story, Serling made a number of minor
changes, but retained the essentials. The script is very well written, but the major accolades for the success of this show must go to director James Sheldon and to an extraordinary cast. The actors playing the townspeople of Peaksville all seem as one, so uniform is the manner in which they present themselves: pleasantly bland on the surface, with a nervousness bordering on hysteria underneath. The impression given is that we are peeking into an ongoing reality, that these people are all acting in this narrow, constricting way because it is the only way they can act in order to survive.

  Then there is Anthony himself. In the story, he is not described, save for the fact that he has a wet, purple gaze. Something more specific than that would be needed for television. Departing from the story, James Sheldon cast Billy Mumy, depicting Anthony as an attractive child whose looks belie his actions. Whenever he was supposed to be doing something awful, Sheldon directed Mumy to make his eyes big and to stare un-blinkingly. Says Sheldon, Billy just loved doing that stuff with his eyes. Well, I had big eyes, says Mumy. My face has kinda grown into my eyes a little bit, but you use what youve got. And its fun to look scary when youre a kid.

  Its a Good Life made a tremendous impression on Mumy. Ive always liked Anthony, and Ive kept Anthony with me. Ill send people to the cornfield when Im really pissed at them. I mean, Ill do it. Not that it works, but its a release for me.

  Buck Houghton recalls Its a Good Life with fondness. It seemed to have caught on in a lot of ways. Around the set, when somebody would goof, people would say, Well, thats a good thing you did, which they would always say to Billy Mumy when he killed a cow or whatnot Thats a good thing you did.

  THE SHELTER (9/29/61)

  Written by Rod Serling

  Producer: Buck Houghton

  Director: Lamont Johnson

  Director of Photography: George T. Clemens

  Music: stock

  Cast: Dr. Stockton: Larry Gates Jerry Harlowe: Jack Albertson Marty Weiss: Joseph Bernard Henderson: Sandy Kenyon Man: John McLiam Grace Stockton: Peggy Stewart Paul Stockton: Michael Burns Mrs. Harlowe: Jo Helton Mrs. Weiss: Moria Turner Mrs. Henderson: Mary Gregory

  What you are about to watch is a nightmare. It is not meant to be prophetic, it need not happen, its the fervent and urgent prayer of all men of good will that it never shall happen. But in this place, in this moment, it does happen. This is the Twilight Zone.

  On the evening of a surprise party for kindly, middle-aged Doc Stockton, the radio announces that radar has detected UFOs heading due southeast and that citizens are urged to go to their shelters. Doc promptly locks himself, his wife, and their twelve-year-old son inside the shelter he has built in his basement. His neighbors are unprepared, however; they beg Doc to let them and their families share the shelter. He refuses; theres only air and provisions for three. As the neighbors argue what to do, their bigotry and violence rise to the surface. Finally, they obtain a large length of pipe and use it to batter down the shelter door. Just then, the radio announces that the UFOs have been identified as harmless satellites. The neighbors, ashamed of their behavior, apologize for the damage theyve done. But Doc is not mollified; he knows that though the missile alarm was a false one, the experience has destroyed them all.

  No moral, no message, no prophetic tract, just a simple statement of fact: for civilization to survive, the human race has to remain civilized. Tonights very small exercise in logic from the Twilight Zone.

  The plot of The Shelter is simple. Unfortunately, in making his point which is that everyone is rotten in a crisis Serling did not pay enough attention to logic and characterization. The people are clearly cardboard cutouts being moved around as the story dictates. One character (Joseph Bernard) violently objects to battering down the door of the shelter in order to get in, yet a moment later he is one of those manning the battering ram. This clearly is not a logical dramatic progression, but rather a too-obvious and heavy-handed manipulation by the writer.

  That was Rod in one of his messianic moods, says Lamont Johnson, the episodes director. It was too uptight with its own self-righteousness, I think. I found it an interesting idea, I think the thesis was excellent, but I think its devices and its general style of writing were a little too pompous.

  DEATHS-HEAD REVISITED (11/10/61)

  Written by Rod Serling

  Producer: Buck Houghton

  Director: Don Medford

  Director of Photography: Jack Swain

  Music: stock

  Cast Becker: Joseph Schildkraut Capt. Lutze: Oscar Beregi Innkeeper: Karen Verne Doctor: Ben Wright Taxi Driver: Robert Boone Dachau Victim: Chuck Fox

  Mr. Schmidt, recently arrived in a small Bavarian village which lies eight miles northwest of Munich, a picturesque, delightful little spot onetime known for its scenery but more recently related to other events having to do with some of the less positive pursuits of man: human slaughter, torture, misery and anguish. Mr. Schmidt, as we will soon perceive, has a vested interest in the ruins of a concentration camp for once, some seventeen years ago, his name was Gunther Lutze. He held the rank of a captain in the S.S. He was a black-uniformed, strutting animal whose function in life was to give pain, and like his colleagues of the time he shared the one affliction most common amongst that breed known as nazis: he walked the Earth without a heart. And now former S.S. Captain Lutze will revisit his old haunts, satisfied perhaps that all that is awaiting him in the ruins on the hill is an element of nostalgia. What he does not know, of course, is that a place like Dachau cannot exist only in Bavaria. By its nature, by its very nature, it must be one of the populated areas of the Twilight Zone

  Reminiscing happily within the ruins of the concentration camp, Lutze comes upon Becker, a former inmate whom he takes for a caretaker. Becker, however, is actually a ghost, and he and the camps other dead victims have risen up to judge Lutze and mete out justice. Following a trial in one of the barracks, Lutze is forced to experience the physical agonies of his victims something that renders him permanently insane. Later, a doctor who examines him wonders what could have turned Lutze into a raving maniac in only two hours. Then he looks around him at the camp and is filled with an angry passion. Dachau he says… Why do we keep it standing?

  There is an answer to the doctors question. All the Dachaus must remain standing. The Dachaus, the Belsens, the Buchenwalds, the Auschwitzes all of them. They must remain standing because they are a monument to a moment in time when some men decided to turn the Earth into a graveyard. Into it they shoveled all of their reason, their logic, their knowledge, but worst of all, their conscience. And the moment we forget this, the moment we cease to be haunted by its remembrance, then we become the gravediggers. Something to dwell on and remember; not only in the Twilight Zone but wherever men walk Gods Earth.

  In Deaths-head Revisited, Serlings preachment fits the subject perfectly. This is an impressive episode in every way, including the set which doubles for Dachau. Buck Houghton explains, CBS had made a pilot for a western, and they had built a four-sided frontier fort. It was a hundred-fifty or two-hundred-thousand-dollar set to pilot this western, and it was standing out on Lot 3 at MGM. We just had to downgrade it, it was nice and fresh, so we had to take some doors off the hinges and put some dust around and that sort of thing. As I recall, the look of it was quite splendid.

  As effective as the set, certainly, is Oscar Beregi as former S.S. Captain Lutze. In The Rip Van Winkle Caper he was saddled with a mediocre part. Here, he has a role with some meat on it, and he presents us with a complex and complete character: assured, cruel, callous, egocentric

  but never so broad as to seem outlandish.

  Then there is Joseph Schildkraut as Becker, the caretaker of Dachau, who turns out to be the ghost of an inmate. The man who played Dreyfus in The Life of Emile Zola (for which he won an Oscar) and Anne Franks father in The Diary of Anne Frank here has the difficult role of playing a symbol, Serlings spokesman for all those killed in the concentration camps. A supremely professional actor, Schildkraut n
ot only achieves this but manages to transcend the role, making the character both a symbol and an individual. As Becker, he is eloquent, wise, and infinitely sad. With his cultured European accent, he delivers speeches which could easily seem pompous, but which in his skilled hands seem the untainted Voice of Truth. The memories his words recall are not pleasant, but they are potent. Ten million human beings were tortured to death in camps like this, he tells Capt. Lutze. Men. Woman. Children. Infants. Tired old men. You burned them in furnaces. You shovelled them into the earth. You tore up their bodies in rage. And now you come back to your scenes of horror, and you wonder that the misery that you planted has lived after you}

  Beyond the words, Deaths-head Revisited has an energy to it, a power in its images and in its actions, thanks both to Serling and to director Don Medford. Repeatedly, there are shots that are disorienting, surprising, and powerful. For example, Schildkraut and Beregi are outside the barracks. Beregi runs past Schildkraut toward the camera, screaming in anger, until his bulk fills the screen, blacking out everything. Cut to Beregis back as he runs away from the camera, still howling. But we see he is now inside one of the barracks, running toward an open door, which shuts just as he reaches it. He falls backward. Cut to his point of view, as we see, upside down, the faces of the dead inmates looking at him, judging him. The camera rotates so that now the faces are right side up. In another instance, Beregi, still inside, lunges with both hands for Schildkrauts throat. Cut to exterior as Beregi completes the movement, but instead of Schildkrauts throat, his hands grasp the post of a gallows.