Written By: Ken HulseyI honestly had so much fun putting together yesterday's MIN Twilight Zone mini marathon that I wanted to jump right back into it this morning.
There are so many excellent episodes from this show that it was literally impossible to post them all in one article. Actually even with this follow up I will only be scratching the surface.
On side note I wanted to dedicate these articles to the late Anne Francis who passed away earlier this year. Anne was most noted for her roles as Altaira in "Forbidden Planet" and the title character in "Honey West" but she also starred in two wonderful episodes of "The Twilight Zone", "Jess-Belle", which I featured yesterday, and "The After Hours".
Here is what Anne Had to say about her roles in both those episodes:
"The After Hours"
And then about the episode "Jess-Belle":
"(In) This one, we were able to indulge more in the different characters. Like Jeanette Nolan as the witch was wonderful, and she had her great scenes. And Jimmy (Best) as the innocent young man who is tormented really with these two women - the darkness of Jess-Belle and the spell of Jess-Belle, and the other woman, the sweet woman that really should be his love. But every time Jess-Belle was around, her spirit invaded him. There was more time to play with these emotions (referring to the fact that the episode was an hour long) and characters, and sit back and see how all of them were tormented in their own way. Except for the witch. I've told Earl (Hammer) I want to play the witch in his musical version. and he said 'No, I want you to do Jess-Belle.' But I think that it would be such fun to play the witch. With all the little potions, and wear the wonderful crazy nose and put warts on and the wild hair..."
So let's get things rolling with the appropriate intro:
You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension— a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone.
The Eye of the Beholder
It's pretty bad, isn't it? I know it's pretty bad. Ever since I can remember... ever since I was a little girl...people have turned away from me. The very first thing I can remember is a little child screaming when she looked at me. I never wanted to be beautiful. I never wanted to look like a painting. I never even wanted to be loved. I just wanted... I just wanted people not to scream when they looked at me.
I say to you now...I say to you now that there is no such thing as a permissive society, because such a society cannot exist! They will scream at you and rant and rave and conjure up some dead and decadent picture of an ancient time when they said that all men are created equal! But to them equality was an equality of opportunity, an equality of status, an equality of aspiration! And then, in what must surely be the pinnacle of insanity, the absolute in inconsistency, they would have had us believe that this equality did not apply to form, to creed. They permitted a polyglot, accident-bred, mongrel-like mass of diversification to blanket the earth, to infiltrate and weaken! Well, we know now that there must be a single purpose! A single norm! A single approach! A single entity of peoples! A single virtue! A single morality! A single frame of reference! A single philosophy of government! We cannot permit... we must not permit the encroaching sentimentality of a past age to weaken our resolve. We must cut out all that is different like a cancerous growth! It is essential in this society that we not only have a norm, but that we conform to that norm. Differences weaken us. Variations destroy us. An incredible permissiveness to deviation from this norm is what has ended nations and brought them to their knees. Conformity we must worship and hold sacred. Conformity is the key to survival.
Execution
Commonplace, if somewhat grim, unsocial event known as a necktie party. The guest of dishonor a cowboy named Joe Caswell, just a moment away from a rope, a short dance several feet off the ground, and then the dark eternity of all evil men. Mr. Joe Caswell, who, when the good Lord passed out a conscience, a heart, a feeling for fellow men, must have been out for a beer and missed out. Mr. Joe Caswell, in the last quiet moment of a violent life
This is November, 1880, the aftermath of a necktie party. The victim's name - Paul Johnson, a minor-league criminal and the taker of another human life. No comment on his death save this: justice can span years. Retribution is not subject to a calendar. Tonight's case in point in the Twilight Zone.
The After Hours
Express elevator to the ninth floor of a department store, carrying Miss Marsha White on a most prosaic, ordinary, run of the mill errand. Miss Marsha White on the ninth floor, specialties department, looking for a gold thimble. The odds are she'll find it, but there are even better odds that she'll find something else, because this isn't just a department store. This happens to be the Twilight Zone.
Marsha White in her normal and natural state…But it makes you wonder, doesn't it? Just how normal are we? Just who are the people we nod our hellos to as we pass on the street? A rather good question to ask, particularly in the Twilight Zone.
Mr. Dingle, the Strong
The uniquely American institution known as the neighborhood bar. Reading left to right are Mr. Anthony O'Toole, proprietor who waters his drinks like geraniums but who stands foursquare for peace and quiet and for booths for ladies. This is Mr. Joseph J. Callahan, an unregistered bookie, whose entire life is any sporting event with two sides and a set of odds. His idea of a meeting at the summit is any dialogue between a catcher and a pitcher with more than one man on base. And this animated citizen is every anonymous bettor who ever dropped rent money on a horse race, a prize fight, or a floating crap game, and who took out his frustrations and his insolvency on any vulnerable fellow barstool companion within arm's and fist's reach. And this is Mr. Luther Dingle, a vacuum-cleaner salesman whose volume of business is roughly that of a valet at a hobo convention. He's a consummate failure in almost everything but is a good listener and has a prominent jaw. And these two unseen gentlemen are visitors from outer space. They are about to alter the destiny of Luther Dingle by leaving him a legacy, the kind you can't hardly find no more. In just a moment, a sad-faced perennial punching bag who missed even the caboose of life's gravy train will take a short constitutional into that most unpredictable region that we refer to as the Twilight Zone.
Exit Mr. Luther Dingle, formerly vacuum-cleaner salesman, strongest man on Earth, and now mental giant. These latter powers will very likely be eliminated before too long, but Mr. Dingle has an appeal to extraterrestrial note-takers as well as to frustrated and insolvent bet-losers. Offhand, I'd say that he was in for a great deal of extremely odd periods, simply because there are so many inhabited planets who send down observers, and also because, of course, Mr. Dingle lives his life with one foot in his mouth, and the other in the Twilight Zone.
Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up
Now before you faint dead away,I think I should tell you my name isn't really Ross and I wasn't really going to Boston. No, I was sent as sort of an advance scout. You know, these cigarettes, do you call them? They taste wonderful. We haven't got a thing like this on Mars. That's incidentally where I come from. We're beginning to colonize. My friends will be arriving shortly. I think they're going to like it here. It's a lovely area. So remote and off the beaten track. Just the perfect place to set up a colony, don't you think? Now while we're waiting, how about some of what you call music.
Oh I don't mind. You see, Mr Ross, my name isn't really Hayley. And I do agree with you, this is an extraordinary place to set up a colony. We folks on Venus had the same idea. We got it several years ago. And I think I should tell you now, your friends aren't coming. They've been intercepted. Oh, a colony is coming. But it's from Venus. And if you're still alive, I think you'll see how we differ. [We takes off his hat,revealing a third eye] And I agree with you about what they call music. Why don't you play some?
The Grave
Normally, the old man would be correct. This would be the end of the story. We've had the traditional shoot-out on the street and the badman will soon be dead. But some men of legend and folk tale have been known to continue having their way even after death. The outlaw and killer Pinto Sykes was such a person, and shortly we'll see how he introduces the town, and a man named Conny Miller in particular, to the Twilight Zone.
Final comment: you take this with a grain of salt or a shovelful of earth, as shadow or substance, we leave it up to you. And for any further research check under 'G' for ghosts in the Twilight Zone.
Nightmare at 20,000 Feet
Gremlins! Gremlins! I'm not imagining it, he's out there! Don't look, he's not out there now. He jumps away whenever anyone might see him, except me.
The flight of Mr. Wilson has ended now, a flight not only from point A to point B, but also from the fear of recurring mental breakdown. Mr. Wilson has that fear no longer, though, for the moment, he is, as he said, alone in this assurance. Happily, his conviction will not remain isolated too much longer, for happily, tangible manifestation is very often left as evidence of trespass, even from so intangible a quarter as the Twilight Zone.
See Also: Our Very Own Twilight Zone Marathon / SyFy To Once Again Air The Annual TWILIGHT ZONE Marathon July 4th / Comic Con Exclusive William Shatner Twilight Zone Doll / The Twilight Zone - Talky Tina Doll Replica / A Tribute To Anne Francis (1930 - 2011)/ / The Twilight Zone - Talky Tina & Willie Figures - Comic Con Exclusives! / The 100 Greatest Monsters From Movies And Television #81 - #90
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