Twilight Zone Companion
Page 30
Again the problem was the writer dealing with characters not at all connected with reality. Says Earl Hamner, Id never known a critic, but it was my idea of what a critic was like.
SHOWDOWN WITH RANCE McGREW (2/2/62)
Written by Rod Serling
Buck Houghton
Director: Christian Nyby
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Music: stock
Cast: Rance McGrew: Larry Blyden Jesse James: Arch Johnson Director: Robert Cornthwaite TV Jesse James: Robert Kline Property Man: William McLean Cowboy #1: Troy Melton Cowboy #2: Jay Overholts TV Bartender: Robert J. Stevenson Old Man: Hal K. Dawson Double for Ranee: Jim Turley
Some one-hundred-odd years ago, a motley collection of tough moustaches galloped across the West and left behind a raft of legends and legerdemains, and it seems a reasonable conjecture that if there are any television sets up in cowboy heaven and any of these rough-and-wooly nail-eaters could see with what careless abandon their names are bandied about, theyre very likely turning over in their gravesor worse, getting out of them. Which gives you a clue as to the proceedings that will begin in just a moment, when one Mr. Ranee McGrew, a three-thousand-buck-a-week phony-baloney discovers that this weeks current edition of make-believe is being shot on location-and that location is the Twilight Zone.
Temperamental TV cowboy star McGrew is about to film a scene in which Jesse James shoots him in the back when he abruptly finds himself in a genuine Old West saloon. The real Jesse James enters and explains that he and the other famous desperadoes are dismayed at how they are portrayed on McGrews show. He challenges McGrew whos never shot a gun in his lifeto a showdown. McGrew tries to run away, but Jesse corners him and draws. McGrew falls to his knees, saying hell do anything if only Jesse will spare him. Jesse accepts; McGrew is returned to the set. But then McGrews agentb Jesse himself arrives. He intends to stay and insure that the outlaws consistently have the upper hand beginning with the TV Jesse throwing McGrew through a plate-glass window.
The evolution of the so-called adult western, and the metamorphosis of one Ranee McGrew, formerly phony-baloney, now upright citizen with a preoccupation with all things involving tradition, truth and cowpoke predecessors. Its the way the cookie crumbles and the six-gun shoots … in the Twilight Zone.
This is what Serling had to say about the episode: Fred Fox had an interesting notion, which was quite serious, about a modern-day cowpoke, not a television star, who found himself living in the past. It had no sense of humor in it. It was a straightforward piece. But it struck me that it would be a terribly interesting concept to have a guy who plays the role of a Hollywood cowboy suddenly thrust into the maelstrom of reality in which he has to do all these acts of prowess against real people… . And it just occurred to me, My God, what would happen if the Ranee McGrews of our time had to face this? I used to think this about John Wayne all the time, who had fought most of our major wars. In truth, of course, they were fought on the backlot of Warner Brothers, in which the most deadly jeopardy would be to get hit by a flying starlet. And I always wondered what Waynes reaction would be if he ever had to lift up an M-l and go through a bloody foxhole on attack sometime. But this is the element of humor that I was striving to get.
An intriguing concept, but Showdown With Ranee McGrew fails to come off, specifically because the real Old West presented in the episode is every bit as TV-phony as the bogus Old West in the episode. The sets are identical and the look is the same. The real Jesse James is no closer to historical reality than the phony one. Had it been done correctly, with the Old West presented as it really was, the show probably would have been quite entertainingand it might have helped to deflate a few myths. As it is, though, Showdown With Ranee McGrew is just dated, tedious, and silly.
THE LITTLE PEOPLE (3/30/62)
Written by Rod Serling
Producer: Buck Houghton
Director: William Claxton
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Music: stock
Cast: Peter Craig: Joe Maross William Fletcher: Claude Akins Spaceman #1: Michael Ford Spaceman #2: Robert Eaton
The time is the space age, the place is a barren landscape of a rock-walled canyon that lies millions of miles from the planet Earth. The cast of characters? Youve met them: William Fletcher, commander of the spaceship; his copilot, Peter Craig. The other characters who inhabit this place you may never see, but theyre there, as these two gentlemen will soon find out. Because theyre about to partake in a little exploration into that gray, shaded area in space and time thats known as the Twilight Zone.
After their ship is damaged by meteors, Fletcher and Craig set down in the canyon to effect repairs. While Fletcher works on the engines, Craig investigates the terrainand discovers an Earth-type civilization populated by beings no larger than ants. Craig becomes a full-blown megalomaniac, terrorizing the little people by stamping on their city and proclaiming himself a god. When Fletcher informs him that the ship is fixed and that they can leave, Craig pulls a gun on him and orders him to depart alone; he intends to stayand theres no room for two gods. Fletcher blasts off. But then another ship lands. Two spacemen emerge, bigger than mountains, towering over Craig. Hysterically, he screams at them to go away. Drawn by the sound, one of the spacemen picks Craig up, inadvertently crushing him to death.
The case of navigator Peter Craig, a victim of a delusion. In this case, the dream dies a little harder than the man. A small exercise in space psychology that you can try on for sizein the Twilight Zone.
Of The Little People, Buck Houghton remembers, For the final shot we were having a hell of a time, because scale is very hard to achieve. And what we did was to take a shot that had been made for I Shot an Arrow Into the Air. We were in Death Valley, and because the fellow in
search of where the hell they were decided to go over that mountain and somebody said, Geez, we cant get over that,’ we had a point-of-view shot straight up to the mountains, very tall, very ominous, shot quite close to the foot of it. I recalled a painting I once ran across, I forget by whom, a fairly famous painter of former times, that posed a genie who was looming up over mountains that gave him scale. So what we did was take an up shot of the two astronauts and matted this shot that we had of the mountains over it, so that they looked like they were standing over something that had some scale.
As far as science goes, The Little People is out-and-out fantasy. As height is squared, volume is cubed, meaning that weight increases at a much faster rate than size. Humans the size of those seen at the end of the episode couldnt possibly exist; their own weight would crush them. So if you come upon a race of intelligent little creatures and decide you might like to be their god, dont worry, no one significantly larger will come along to upstage you … at least, no one human.
I SING THE BODY ELECTRIC (5/18/62)
Written by Ray Bradbury
Producer: Buck Houghton
Directors: James Sheldon and William Claxton
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Music: Van Cleave
Cast: Grandma: Josephine Hutchinson Anne (age 11): Veronica Cartwright Father: David White Tom (age 12): Charles Herbert Karen (age 10): Dana Dillaway Salesman: Vaughn Taylor Nedra: Doris Packer Anne (age 19): Susan Crane Tom (age 20): Paul Nesbitt Karen (age 18): Judy Morton
They make a fairly convincing pitch here. It doesnt seem possible, though, to find a woman who might be ten times better than mother in order to seem half as good except, of course, in the Twilight Zone.
A widower buys a robot grandmother to act as a surrogate mother for his three children. Karen and Tom take to this intelligent, maternal machine almost instantly, but Anne steadfastly refuses to be won over. Grandma reminds Anne of her mother a mother she bitterly resents for having died. When Anne blindly runs into the path of an oncoming van, Grandma throws herself in front of it, saving Annes life. But Grandma isnt injured; being a robot has its advantages. Realizing that Grandma
cant leave her as her mother did, Anne finally lets down her guard and reciprocates the robots love. Years pass, during which the children grow up under Grandmas affectionate supervision. As Tom, Anne and Karen prepare to leave for college, Grandma tells them she is returning to Facsimile, Limited. She is well-satisfied that her job here is completed.
A fable? Most assuredly. But whos to say at some distant moment there might not be an assembly line producing a gentle product in the form of a grandmother whose stock in trade is love. Fable, surebut whos to say?
I Sing the Body Electric encountered trouble almost from the beginning. Although Veronica Cartwright (who as an adult would have memorable roles in Invasion of the Body Snatchers and Alien) turns in a good performance as Anne, the other two children are poor. Also, director James Sheldon was strongly opposed to the casting of Hutchinson as the electronic grandmother. In retrospect this is curious, because with her warmth, maturity and intelligence she seems well-suited to the role.
Buck Houghton recalls that great pains were taken in an attempt to improve the episode. We did retakes. We practically did that over. It just didnt work. The first thing was done in October of 61 and the next one was done in February of 62, and it was damn near a full re-do. Aunt Nedra was played by June Vincent in the original and Doris Packer in the second. It just wasnt an acceptable picture … and so we rewrote. Directing the retakes was William Claxton, director of The Last Flight, The Jungle, and The Little People. I guess Jim Sheldon wasnt available, says Houghton. Normally, Id have called him back.
The final version that was arrived at works fairly well; its a pleasant story. But somehow one feels that it was meant to be more, to strike a warm chord of recognition, as Walking Distance had done, and in this area it misses the mark. Nevertheless, I Sing the Body Electric is that rarity on The Twilight Zone, an adaptation of a story by a famous science-fiction writer adapted by the writer himself, and that alone makes it notable.
It should be mentioned that initially it was intended for Ray Bradburys involvement with The Twilight Zone to be far greater than just one script.
Prior to the shows debut, several articles even named him as a major contributor along with Matheson and Beaumont. Indirectly, Bradburys influence on the series was significant. In an afterword to Beaumonts collection The Magic Man, Richard Matheson wrote, … [It] was Ray who helped both Chuck and myself on the initial steps of our writing careersas he had helped others. I was living in Brooklyn at the time, just graduated from college, and Ray was highly generous in his correspondence and encouragement. It meant a good deal to me. Chuck, fortunate enough to be living in Los Angeles, had more personal contact with Ray and accordingly enjoyed an even closer communication and a greater proportion of encouragement and inspiration. I know that it meant a good deal to him as well.
Bradburys influence on Serling, although not a personal relationship as in the cases of Beaumont and Matheson, was still a major one. Serlings favorite science-fiction writers were Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, and Robert A. Heinlein. He had learned about the genre from reading their works. But beyond the field of science fiction, there was a more specific theme linking Bradbury and Serling. Serling had been born in Binghamton in 1924, Bradbury in Waukegan, Illinois, four years earlier. Both had wonderful small-town childhoods which left a permanent mark on their sensibilities and on their work. In Bradburys nostalgic, small-town stories, Serling must have read much with which he wholeheartedly agreed. When he wrote Walking Distance and A Stop at Willoughby, Serling realized that he was on Bradburys turf, so to speak, and he made oblique acknowledgment of the fact by adding references to Dr. Bradbury in Walking Distance and the Bradbury account in A Stop at Willoughby.
So the question arises: if Bradburys influence on The Twilight Zone was so great, why was his participation so minimal? I Sing the Body Electric is his only episode, and that in the third season.
The answer is a complex one.
Bradbury was approached by Serling and Houghton before The Twilight Zone began production and seemed perfectly willing to be a major contributor. On July, 23, 1959, he submitted a full teleplay adaptation of his short story, Here There Be Tygers (which appears in his collection R Is For Rocket), with this cover letter:
Dear Buck and Rod:
Id be happy to hear any suggestions you want to make about this: HERE THERE BE TYGERS. And as soon as you want me to, Ill start on another for you. I have several weeks of extra time starting now.
Best,
Ray
Here There Be Tygers concerns an expedition of space explorers that lands on a planet so idyllic that it seems almost impossible. The grass is short and smells newly mown. Streams are filled with white wine. Fish jump out of cold springs into hot springs and cook right before your eyes. Winds gently lift you so that you can fly like a bird. The men quickly realize that the entire planet is a single conscious entity, one willing to supply their slightest whim simply in return for kind treatment. The men take this in stride, enjoying the first-class treatment all except Chatterton, the minerologist, whom the men call Chat. Hes wary of the planet and doesnt trust it. He warns the others, saying, To quote a map I saw once in medieval history: Here There Be Tygers. When youre all asleep, the tygers and cannibals will show up. Finally, Chatterton attacks the planet with a huge drill mounted on a tractor. The planet swallows the tractor in a tar pit, then summons up a tiger that kills Chatterton. The rest of the men hurriedly board their ship, all but one who elects to remain behind. From space, the explorers see the planet erupt in volcanoes, avalanches, and lightning storms, but this is only an illusion for their benefit. On the surface, the planet is serene. With a running start, the lone crewman leaps into the air and flies away from the camera, over the horizon to where the distant voices of laughing women can be heard.
Although a beautifully written script, Serling and Houghton passed on Here There Be Tygers. A year and a half later, they did buy Bradburys adaptation of his short story A Miracle of Rare Device (collected in The Machineries of Joy), which concerns two likeable tramps who attempt to homestead a mirage that assumes the appearance of any city the person looking at it has most wanted to visit. This too was quite well written. It got as far as having a director tentatively assigned to it, Tony Leader, who had done Long Live Walter Jameson and The Midnight Sun. But like Here There Be Tygers, it was never produced.
Why is it that the talents of Bradbury were utilized so little when they were so readily available?
Part of the answer might be found in something Serling said in 1975. Ray Bradbury is a very difficult guy to dramatize, because that which reads so beautifully on the printed page doesnt fit in the mouth it fits in the head. And you find characters saying the things that Bradburys saying and you say, Wait a minute, people dont say that. Certainly, Bradburys dialogue does lean to the poetic and this might have been a consideration.
Then, too, there were logistical considerations. In Here There Be Tygers, there were five men flying, a spaceship landing and taking off, a futuristic mobile drill that is enveloped by tar and sinks out of sight, and scenes of planetary turmoil including volcanoes, lightning storms, avalanches, and monsters rising up. Any one of those I would have tackled without any particular trepidation, says Buck Houghton, but two of them would have been a worry and three of them would have been a deal-breaker.
As for Bradbury, his comments shed little light on the subject: I would prefer not to write or talk much about Twilight Zone or my stories. The series is over and done, my work for it stands on its own. For various reasons two scripts were never done. I dont recall the reasons now, so many years later.
Perhaps in some alternate universe, Cayuga Productions bought Here There Be Tygers. Perhaps in that parallel world there was a long and fruitful working relationship with Bradbury that included Twilight Zone adaptations of Mars Is Heaven, The Veldt, A Sound of Thunder, Kaleidoscope, and many, many more.
But not in this universe, and thats a shame.
FOUR OCLOCK (4/6/62
)
Written by Rod Serling
Producer: Buck Houghton
Director: Lamont Johnson
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Music: stock
Cast: Oliver Crangle: Theodore Bikel Mrs. Williams: Moyna MacGill Mrs. Lucas: Phyllis Love Hall: Linden Chiles
Thats Oliver Crangle, a dealer in petulance and poison. Hes rather arbitrarily chosen four oclock as his personal Gotterdammerung, and we are about to watch the metamorphosis of a twisted fanatic, poisoned by the gangrene of prejudice, to the status of an avenging angel, upright and omniscient, dedicated and fearsome. Whatever your clocks say, its four oclockand wherever you are it happens to be the Twilight Zone.
Political fanatic Oliver Crangle keeps detailed files on people and makes phone calls and sends letters discrediting those he has determined are evil. By mystical and unspecified means, he determines to shrink every evil person in the world to a height of two feet tall at exactly four oclock. But when the time rolls around, it is he who becomes two feet tall!
At four oclock, an evil man made his bed and lay in it, a pot called a kettle black, a stone-thrower broke the windows of his glass house. You look for this one under F for fanatic and (J for justicein the Twilight Zone.
Four OClock was Serlings adaptation of a story by Price Day that appears in Alfred Hitchcock Presents: 14 of My Favorites in Suspense (Random House, 1959). Although dealing with a subject Serling felt strongly about, the writing is not sharp, and the characters are oversimplified to the point of caricature. As Crangle, Bikel is fun to watch, but one feels he could have done a much better job had Serling given him a more substantial character to work with.
THE GIFT (4/27/62)
Written by Rod Serling
Producer: Buck Houghton