ZONE. Inger Stevens as Nan Adams in 'The Hitch-hiker'. Season 1, episode 16, of CBS' science fiction television series, 'The Twilight Zone', July 23, 1959.

Just in time for the tail end of Halloween, here’s my ranking of the top ten best “Twilight Zone” episodes. 10. “Stopover in a Quiet Town” (1964): This is an episode w…

Explore hastingsgraham's 539 photos on Flickr!

Season 5, Episode 155 Originally aired 5/29/1964 Cayuga Production # 2633 On March 25, 1964, a sad bit of Twilight Zone history occurred when shooting wrapped on Cayuga’s final production. It was no secret at that point that the series had been cancelled (CBS had announced its fall schedule in January), so the crew certainly knew that their work in the fifth dimension was coming to an end. I’d like to believe that Rod Serling was there with them on the set to hear that final “Cut!” uttered, and that in that moment he felt a rush of pride for his contribution to the landscape of imaginative television. However, I think it’s far more likely that he was nowhere near that set, and that he was too worn out to give much of a damn. As fatigued as the series often felt as it wound down, Serling’s own fatigue was magnified several times over. That final production, Serling’s “The Fear,” premiered on CBS a scant two months later, exactly fifty years ago tonight. Charlotte Scott, a big city fashion editor who is on an extended sabbatical following a nervous breakdown, is staying in a luxurious cabin near an unspecified mountain village. State trooper Franklin visits her to follow up on a report of some strange lights in the sky in the area. The two are beset by mysterious phenomena: bright lights appear and disappear outside the house, high branches in the surrounding trees are broken, and all communication with the outside world (his police radio and her telephone) is cut off. His squad car rolls on its own (despite the emergency brake being engaged) and flips onto its side. Soon after, Franklin discovers that his car has been flipped back over…. and a set of oversized fingerprints have been left on it. The next morning, the pair discovers an enormous footprint in a nearby clearing and, overcome with terror, Ms. Scott runs away screaming. She quickly comes face to face with the apparent source of the strange happenings: a gigantic humanoid creature whose entire head is a single eyeball. Franklin fires several rounds into the creature, which promptly deflates. It’s a balloon! The pair then spies a small flying saucer nearby, inside which tiny aliens are reporting to their superiors that their plan to frighten the giant Earthlings has failed. The ship takes off with its proverbial tail between its legs. “The Fear” is written by Rod Serling, his 92nd (!) and final contribution to the legendary series that he unleashed upon the world. I’d love to plumb the depths of his teleplay and analyze meanings both surface and hidden, but the sad fact is… well, there aren’t really any such depths or meanings to speak of. “The Fear” centers on a single theme, revealed right up front in the episode’s title: fear. The episode’s about being afraid in the face of the unknown… and that’s it. Serling tackled many sociopolitical themes and their impact on the human condition throughout the series, and the fact that his final Twilight Zone makes no meaningful comment on anything is more than a bit deflating (ha! See what I did there?) He misquotes FDR’s famous “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself” in his closing narration and, if that’s the point he’s trying to make, I would argue that it’s not appropriate to the story. I think it’s entirely appropriate to be afraid if there’s a giant alien coming after you, whether or not it turns out to be a hoax later. In the director’s chair this week is Ted Post, who also helmed “Probe 7, Over and Out,” and “Mr. Garrity and the Graves” earlier this season and, way back in season one, “A World of Difference” (a favorite of mine). His work here is more or less workmanlike, but there are a few nice touches (Franklin’s flashlight-armed searches outside are effectively spooky, and hey, you’ve gotta love those huge fingerprints on his car!). I do have an issue with the enormous footprint our protagonists find, however: wouldn’t there be several of them? The fact that there seems to be only one should have been a tipoff that things might not be as they appear. And how the hell does Franklin’s car flip onto its side? Even if it struck something as it was rolling, it wasn’t moving any more than five miles per hour. Those enormous fingerprints don’t appear until after the car is returned to its upright position, so we can’t even blame the aliens for this one. And Franklin’s estimation that the giant is "500 feet high" turns out to be a hilarious miscalculation, as we see when our heroes come face to face with it. As Franklin and Ms. Scott work through the mystery of the giant alien, the episode feels like a companion piece of sorts for “Stopover in a Quiet Town” (how awesome would it have been to end things with the giant alien girl looming over Franklin and Charlotte, the sky booming with her mischievous giggling? It wouldn’t have made much sense, but I think I would’ve preferred it to the actual denouement). I guess we could also draw parallels to season three’s “The Little People” and, for that matter, “The Invaders.” When I reviewed "The Brain Center at Whipple's" two weeks ago, I lamented the fact that the appearance of Robby the Robot signaled the final Forbidden Planet connection we'd see in the series. I love being proven wrong when it comes to stuff like this: while the tiny aliens' flying saucer isn't our beloved United Planets C-57D Space Cruiser, the stock shot (from "Death Ship") of the ship beating a hasty retreat most certainly is. So there you go,kids: one more Forbidden Planet alert for the road. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” says Franklin to Ms. Scott early in the episode. If this quote from Shakespeare’s Hamlet seems a bit familiar, it’s because Richard Matheson also used it in season one’s “The Last Flight.” A couple of complaints: first, it seems contrary to Serling’s usual sympathetic humanist ethic to have Franklin start shooting at the giant alien without even attempting to communicate with it, particularly since the alien has never exhibited any overt intent to bring harm or destruction. Hey Rod, remember “The Gift”? Second, “The Fear” is probably the single most over-the-top example of Serling’s notorious “purple prose” tendencies supplanting natural, realistic dialogue. Zicree says it best in his Twilight Zone Companion: “(M)uch of the dialogue sounds like two Rod Serlings talking to each other.” When I reviewed the Outer Limits episode “The Borderland” back in December, I described Mark Richman’s performance as a “pretty impressive Rod Serling impression.” Here’s a short clip to illustrate: Pretty uncanny, huh? Now, Richman doesn’t act (much) like Serling in “The Fear,” but he definitely resembles him. Bif Bang Pow! named their action figure of the big guy Cyclops, which is probably an appropriate name for it (it certainly sounds more ominous than “Alien Balloon”). I don’t have it, so I can’t comment on its merits (I stopped collecting Bif Bang Pow!’s TZ stuff about a year or so ago, which I probably should’ve mentioned before now; long story short: too many quality control problems on their end, plus the majority of their offerings just don’t interest me; I’ll try to elaborate in a separate post soon). . THE MUSIC “The Fear” is stock-scored, meaning that the underscore is a patchwork of pre-existing recordings from the CBS Music Library, comprised mostly of Fred Steiner cues (from “King Nine Will Not Return” and “A Hundred Yards over the Rim,” both from season two). We also hear “Maya” and “The Fun House” from Nathan Van Cleave’s score for season one’s “Perchance to Dream.” Hearing music from the show’s earlier days this close to the end is a welcome touch indeed (though I doubt that was the intent), and I’m happy to report that the various cues mesh pretty well together, despite originating from three different scores. While “The Fear” doesn’t feature an isolated music track on the DVD and Blu-ray releases of the series, all three of those earlier scores have been released multiple times over the years, on both vinyl and CD, from both Varese Sarabande and Silva Screen Records. The Definitive DVD and Blu-ray releases of the first and second seasons also include isolated music tracks for all three episodes, so if one wanted to piece together a soundtrack for “The Fear,” the resources are easily obtained (except for that short little Marius Constant bit, dammit). . DRAMATIS PERSONAE Trooper Robert Franklin is played by Mark Richman in his only Twilight Zone appearance. Richman has extensive genre experience, including roles on The Outer Limits (“The Borderland” and “The Probe”), Alfred Hitchcock Presents (“Man with a Problem” and “The Cure”), The Invaders (“The Leeches” and “Inquisition”), The Incredible Hulk (“Triangle) and, a bit more recently, Star Trek: The Next Generation (“The Neutral Zone”). Richman with TZ alum Susan Oliver. Charlotte Scott is played by the beautiful Hazel Court in her only Twilight Zone appearance. Genre fans can spot her in four episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents (“The Crocodile Case,” “The Avon Emeralds,” “Arthur,” and “The Pearl Necklace”) and one episode of Boris Karloff’s Thriller (“The Terror in Teakwood”). On the big screen, Court can be seen in 1957’s The Curse of Frankenstein from Hammer Films, not to mention a trio of Roger Corman adaptations of Edgar Allen Poe stories (1962’s The Premature Burial, 1963’s The Raven, and 1964’s The Masque of the Red Death). Did I mention that she’s beautiful? She’s definitely a TZ Babe, make no mistake. *Sigh* The part of the giant Cyclops “alien” is played by a BIG GODDAMNED BALLOON which, to my knowledge, never worked in television again (though it would’ve been positively smashing in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, right?). “The Fear” was the final Twilight Zone episode to be filmed (“The Bewitchin’ Pool,” the final episode aired, was shot earlier but took longer to complete in post-production; more on this when we get to it), and it definitely feels like the show is running on fumes as it lurches toward the finish line. It’s not exactly terrible, but it’s nowhere near good: like the aliens’ giant balloon, it’s ultimately a bit flat. Next: There’s only one new episode left of the entire series… but you’re gonna have to wait three weeks for it. Talk about cancelus interruptus….

 Naomi Stevens and Vera Miles, with her mirror image "Mirror Image" Season One, Episode 21 Original Air Date: February 26, 1960 Cast: Millicent Barnes: Vera Miles Paul Grinstead: Martin Milner Ticket Taker: Joe Hamilton Female Attendant: Naomi Stevens Husband: Ferris Taylor Wife: Terese Lyon Bus Driver: Edwin Rand Crew: Writer: Rod Serling (original teleplay) Director: John Brahm Producer: Buck Houghton Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson Director of Photography: George T. Clemens Art Direction: George W. Davis and William Ferrari Set Decoration: Henry Grace and Budd S. Friend Assistant Director: Edward Denault Casting: Mildred Gusse Editor: Bill Mosher Sound: Franklin Milton and Jean Valentino Music: Stock And Now, Mr. Serling: "Next week I try to sell an argument to the effect that I'm not at my best when writing scripts for women. Miss Vera Miles takes my side in a most unusual and unique story we call 'Mirror Image.' I hope to see you next week, you in your living room, and Miss Vera Miles and the rest of us in The Twilight Zone." Rod Serling's Opening Narration: "Millicent Barnes, age twenty-five, young woman waiting for a bus on a rainy November night. Not a very imaginative type is Miss Barnes, not given to undue anxiety or fears, or for that matter even the most temporal flights of fancy. Like most young career women, she has a generic classification as a, quote, girl with a head on her shoulders, end of quote. All of which is mentioned now because in just a moment the head on Miss Barnes's shoulders will be put to a test. Circumstances will assault her sense of reality and a chain of nightmares will put her sanity on a block. Millicent Barnes, who in one minute will wonder if she's going mad." Summary: Vera Miles with Martin Milner (as Paul Grinstead) When Millicent Barnes inquires about the estimated time of arrival for her bus she is greeted with hostility from the ticket manager. The hostility, it seems, stems from the fact that Millicent has apparently come up to inquire about the bus several times and that her impatience has worn thin the patience of the ticker manager. Funny thing is, this is the first time that she has approached him with an inquiry. Confused, and wanting to avoid an argument, Millicent decides to return to her seat on the waiting bench but not before she eyes a suitcase in the luggage check area behind the ticket desk. Eyeing her own suitcase beside the bench, it becomes apparent that something about the suitcase behind the ticket desk has intrigued her and Millicent cannot help but inquire about it. The exasperated ticket manager asks if Millicent is playing some sort of game, as the suitcase behind the desk is, in fact, her suitcase. She checked it in earlier. Millicent laughs and tells the ticket manager that, although it looks like her suitcase, it isn't her own because her suitcase is beside the bench. Yet, when Millicent turns to indicate her own suitcase, it is no longer there. Now beginning to become frightened, Millicent reluctantly returns to her seat. Slowly realizing that something is amiss, Millicent walks into the restroom. Staring into the mirror, Millicent attempts to pull herself together. The female attendant notices Millicent's agitation and inquires if everything is okay. Millicent, obviously beginning to lose some control of her emotions, nearly explodes at the woman, telling her that everything is fine, though it is obvious that Millicent is beginning to wonder herself if this is true. The attendant makes a throwaway comment about how Millicent had come into the restroom earlier and this sets Millicent off. She vehemently states that she has not been in the restroom before and makes a comment about something being wrong with the people in the station. The attendant attempts to calm Millicent down to little effect, especially when Millicent opens the door to exit the restroom and sees, reflected in the mirror, herself sitting in the waiting area outside the restroom. Millicent quickly shuts the door again, terrified at the sight. The female attendant, alarmed by Millicent's behavior, again tries to comfort the young woman but to no avail. A moment later, Millicent throws open the restroom door, ready to confront whoever, or whatever, is there waiting for her. Alas, there is nothing but the empty bench. Millicent converses with an older couple, the only others in the waiting area, about the possible appearance of someone else in the station but is met with a bewildered and unhelpful response. Despondent, Millicent returns to her own part of the waiting area and, lost in thought, is startled by the appearance of a young man. Shaking rain from his clothes, the man introduces himself as Paul Grinstead. As the young man sits down, obviously looking for some light conversation, he is bombarded with Millicent's story of strange disappearances and reappearances. He is, quite understandably, taken aback by the outlandish story and the sudden and frightening way in which Millicent tells it. Grinstead attempts to rationalize the situation for Millicent but the attempt to settle the young woman fails. When the bus they have both been waiting for arrives, Millicent is only too happy to quickly get out of the station. Ginstead helps her with her bags and follows her out. Outside, Millicent is greeted with a nasty surprise. Looking up into a window on the bus, Millicent flees in terror back inside the station. She has glimpsed her doppelganger already seated on the bus, looking out of the window and wearing a malevolent grin. Inside the station, Millicent faints and Grinstead decides to stay behind and help care for her. The female attendant, on her way out of the station, makes a comment of pity toward Grinstead about Millicent but also makes a not-so-subtle comment that perhaps Millicent's problem stems from something wrong with her mind. Millicent wakes up shortly thereafter. She tells Grinstead of a theory she has formed about what is happening to her, a theory stemming from something she read in the past. The theory is based on the existence of parallel planes of existence, twin realities, in which each person has a counterpart in the next world. These twin worlds, Millicent says, sometimes converge and an individual's counterpart may cross over into the other world. That twin is malevolent and possesses the instinct to take over and wipe out the other's existence. Grinstead, wearing an expression of dismay and disbelief, insists that there is a more reasonable explanation but Millicent, wearing a dazed and nearly unresponsive expression, seems not to hear him. Telling Millicent that he will call a friend in a nearby town to come and pick them up with his car, Grinstead walks to the ticket manager's counter. The ticket manager has overhead the conversation and lets it be known that he thinks Millicent is afflicted with a psychosis. Grinstead reveals that he has no friend in a nearby town but only told Millicent that so she would come quietly when the men in white coats arrive. Grinstead then calls the police. Millicent suddenly gets up and storms into the restroom, intent on badgering her deadly double out of hiding. Grinstead manages to get her out of the restroom and leads her outside where the police promptly arrive and, after a short struggle, take Millicent away, presumably to a mental health facility. Grinstead, obviously upset, reenters the bus station and decides to sleep away the long wait until the next bus arrives. He places his suitcase beside the bench and goes for a drink from the water fountain. When he looks up again, his suitcase is gone. He catches a glimpse of a man rushing out of the station. Grinstead calls out and takes off in pursuit. He chases the man through the parking lot and toward the street, only stopping when he catches a glimpse of the stranger's face as the man throws a backward look. Grinstead sees his own face looking back at him in the moonlight and then loses sight of the stranger altogether, left standing in the parking lot calling out in fear and confusion. Rod Serling's Closing Narration: "Obscure metaphysical explanation to cover a phenomenon, reasons dredged out of the shadows to explain away that which cannot be explained. Call it parallel planes or just insanity. Whatever it is, you'll find it in The Twilight Zone." Commentary: "There, seated where she had been a short time before, Millicent saw the mirrored image of a girl who was her identical twin. Either that, or Millicent had become someone else and was looking back at her old self of ten minutes before." -"The Mirror Image" by Rod Serling and Walter B. Gibson (Rod Serling's Twilight Zone Revisited, 1964) "The Twilight Zone" refers to an area which exists outside our normal perceptions of reality and, once entered, can effectively change an individual by attacking and altering the senses which balance a rational state of mind. Stories told on The Twilight Zone can essentially be divided into two groups: the light, or benign, and the dark, or malevolent. "Mirror Image" is an episode of the latter type, an intimately disturbing drama which straddles the line between the psychological and the supernatural and challenges our perceptions not only of this world but of possible worlds beyond. The episode concerns what the Germans label "doppelganger," or double-goer, an apparition or double of a living person. It is what Scottish author John Keir Cross referred to as "the other passenger," a theme which has probably most effectively been presented in a popular work in Edgar Allan Poe's 1839 tale "William Wilson." "Mirror Image" retains its power to unsettle the viewer because we have likely all had those subtly strange experiences which temporarily disorient us. Have you ever experienced a particularly strong sense of deja vu? Or have you ever thought you saw someone you know only to see on second look that it isn't who you thought it to be? Have you ever spoken to a person in a familiar way before realizing it isn't who you thought it was? Have you ever been mistaken for someone else by someone who is certain they've met you before or seen you somewhere you've never been? We have all likely experienced some slightly unsettling event of a similar nature and it is upon this type of experience, when one is left to briefly question their memory and their senses, that "Mirror Image" gains its power. The idea for the story has its genesis in an episode from Rod Serling's life. Serling was in an airport and noticed a suitcase which looked identical to his own. To Serling's surprise, the man who came to retrieve the suitcase looked, from the backside, very much like Serling himself. Though the man turned out to look nothing like Serling once Serling got a look at the man's face, it ignited an idea in the writer's mind. What if the man turned out to look exactly like himself? Serling thought. What if that man boarded the plane in his place and went home to his family? The disturbing possibilities Serling batted around in his mind later materialized as "Mirror Image." As indicated in his preview narration for the episode, Serling challenged himself to write a showcase for an actress and changed the location from the bustle of an airport to the loneliness of a nearly-deserted bus station in the middle of a rainy night. The episode is a wonderfully moody chiller and one of a handful that I like to show to those who have seen little or none of the series. It possesses an intimately disturbing quality that is exceptionally suited to the supernatural thriller, along with strong acting and direction, and a suitably shocking ending that always seems to get a reaction from a first-time viewer. It is also an episode that is somewhat forgotten and underappreciated. Although the writers and the brilliant scripts they produced are the functioning heart of the series, the best episodes always had one or more strong actors and a strong director behind the camera. "Mirror Image" is no exception. Vera Miles, who will certainly be remembered for her associations with director Alfred Hitchcock, turns in an exceptional performance. It is, along with Inger Stevens in "The Hitch-Hiker" and Anne Francis in "The After Hours," one of the strongest female performances of the first season, and perhaps of the entire series. Miles manages the difficult task of lending the character of Millicent Barnes both a strength and a vulnerability so that when she eventually descends into a place from which she cannot return, mentally and physically, the viewer is not only convinced but completely invested in her fate. Although Rod Serling indicates that he was challenged to write a script for an actress, the first season of the series is an excellent showcase for psychological and supernatural dramas centered around women who alone must face an invading force or recover some essential memory which will forever alter them. Rod Serling's "The Hitch-Hiker," "Mirror Image," "Nightmare as a Child," and "The After Hours" are all first season episodes of this type and all of them, even the least of the quartet, "Nightmare as a Child," are powerful examinations of vulnerable characters slipping precariously into that netherworld from which they return fundamentally changed in character and fate. A former Miss Kansas, 1948, Vera Miles previously contributed to anthology television by starring in the memorable first episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, "Revenge" (October 2, 1955). Based on a story by Samuel Blas, originally published in Colliers Weekly for January 11, 1947, it tells of a husband who kills a man in an attempt to avenge an attack on his wife, played by Miles, only to discover that his wife's psyche has been completely shattered and she has led him to target a random, innocent person. A year later Miles costarred with Henry Fonda in The Wrong Man (directed by Alfred Hitchcock), with James Stewart in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, and with John Wayne in The Searchers. Initially pegged by Hitchcock to star in the 1958 film Vertigo, Miles was sidelined from the project after becoming pregnant, much to the ire of Hitchcock who replaced Miles with Kim Novak. Miles would reunite with Hitchcock for her role as Lila Crane in Psycho (1960). The image of Miles descending into the basement and discovering the mummified corpse of Mrs. Bates is instantly recognizable to moviegoers. She appeared in the same role for 1983's Psycho II. Miles would also appear in two episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, season one's "Don't Look Behind You" (1962) and season three's "Death Scene" (1965). Actor Martin Milner, who would find television fame on Route 66, Adam-12, and Swiss Family Robinson, turns in a suitably muted performance as the level-headed young traveler who is victimized in the memorable twist ending. The image of Milner's double looking back over his shoulder, grinning madly, is one which lingers in the viewer's mind. What more can be said of director John Brahm's talents that has not been said in previous posts? A major contributor to the series, and its most prolific director, he turned many good episodes into great ones. With "Mirror Image," he was handed a script with a single, simple setting and managed to turn in one of his finest directing jobs of the first season. Given the single set, Brahm uses it to his advantage, bringing the viewer into an immediately claustrophobic situation and making them endure the developing nightmare with subtle camera effects, muted lighting, and an inconspicuous style of photography that perfectly frames the increasingly aggressive supernatural element of the episode against the benign reality of its setting. Of the utmost importance for Brahm was to keep the episode from falling into unintentional comedy. The effects had to be convincing and, along with Vera Miles's fine performance, the episode manages to pull it off brilliantly. It is a fine directing job and in the hands of a lesser talent the episode certainly could have been laughable in places. The Twilight Zone is at its most effective when dealing with the elements of paranoia and psychological torment. This type of episode became The Twilight Zone's calling card and most recognizable subject matter. These episodes usually consists of one or more people put into a situation where a real, or sometimes imagined, threat is recognized and confronted with terrible results. The episodes which isolate a single character in the recognition and confrontation of the threat, like the character of Millicent Barnes in "Mirror Image," are the most effective. "Mirror Image" joins other notable episodes of this ilk, such as "A World of Difference," "Shadow Play," and "Perchance to Dream," to name a few. The episode that it most resembles, however, is "The Hitch-Hiker," also from the first season. It is interesting to watch both episodes together to compare and contrast what works for and against each. Though "Mirror Image" borrows much from "The Hitch-Hiker," there is enough difference and originality for both episodes to stand very well on their own. Both episodes have a strong female lead menaced by a supernatural force that only they perceive. Both episodes also feature seemingly noble male characters that are stubbornly level-headed and eventually abandon their female counterparts. "The Hitch-Hiker" is stronger in plot and resolution but "Mirror Image" is stronger in its effect and atmosphere, that potent mix of terror and disorientation. By this point in the first season, Serling managed to focus his talents on tight plotting, strong characterization, and fluid construction. He would, however, occasionally overwrite and the only major issue with "Mirror Image" is in the heavy-handed rationalization provided through Millicent Barnes's monologue once she awakens from her fainting spell. It feels a bit like an exposition dump, brow-beating the audience with an obvious, and unnecessary, explanation of the supernatural occurrence. The episode functions just fine without the theorizing on parallel planes and malevolent doppelgangers. It seems to me that any reasonable viewer can intuit the cause or that it should simply be left to the imagination. This is a small qualm and it doesn't take much away from the episode. One interesting aspect that is not directly stated through dialogue is the idea that planes between realities are thinnest at way stations and places of travel. It was brilliant on Serling's part, whether consciously done or not, to set the story in a bus station. Places like bus stations, airports, train stations, ports, or even hospitals often served on the series as places where the walls between worlds are thinnest. "Mirror Image" remains a highlight of a rich first season, one that is ripe for rediscovery, and a perfect episode to entice new viewers to the show. Grade: B Notes: -John Brahm directed 11 additional episodes of The Twilight Zone, including "Time Enough At Last," "The Four of Us Are Dying," and "Shadow Play." -“Mirror Image” was adapted into a short story (as "The Mirror Image") by Walter B. Gibson for Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone Revisited (Grosset & Dunlap, 1964). -"Mirror Image" was adapted as a Twilight Zone Radio Drama by Dennis Etchison, starring Morgan Brittany and Frank John Hughes. -"Mirror Image" was the final episode filmed before a first season hiatus in order to secure further sponsorship. -JP

20 Eerie TV Shows That Made Our Skin Crawl