Season Two of The Twilight Zone
Every communications medium in history has discovered the truth of th[e]se two maxims,” Serling told the Louisville, Kentucky Courier-Journal in July 1960. “You cannot fool an audience forever . . . [it] demands not only original stories and ideas. It demands variety and originality in the presentation.”
To which journalist Bill Ladd, reflecting back on the first season of The Twilight Zone, responded, “Serling promised at the beginning of the season to give us something different, and he has done that.”
Serling himself was dissatisfied with the first season. “Of the first thirty-six, I think I am proud of about eighteen. There are others I liked, and there were some I wished we had never heard of in the first place”—unspoken, but unforgettable in view of his subsequent commentaries, “The Sixteen-Millimeter Shrine” undoubtedly fell into that latter category.
But still he had learned some valuable lessons—the need, he said, to vary the second season’s contents between the deadly serious tales, what he called the “downbeat” ones, and more “tongue-in-cheek” efforts. He wanted to see more women cast as leading characters, and fewer conclusive endings. He wanted to make his audiences think.
Producer Buck Houghton agreed. Interviewed by the Salina [Kansas] Journal, he reflected on the number of letters the show received from viewers who didn’t understand a certain ending.
I believe in playing fair, [so] we generally make our point by telling it twice. I do admit that a viewer has to pay attention and he can miss something by going to the refrigerator for a beer. [But] the fact a man is on Mars is enough for a thirty-minute show. Then comes the point of drama. If we had to explain and explain, we couldn’t hold the audience. We say, “here’s a man who can change his face at will,” and then we move into the story. My suspicion is that doing a story in this vein takes the wraps off a writer’s imagination.
That The Twilight Zone had accrued an enormous amount of industry goodwill was indisputable. Throughout the run of the first season, and for the remainder of the show’s existence, Serling’s personal mailbox was filled to overflowing with letters from both agents and actors, asking that he consider so-and-so for a role—Jack Lord, later to find such enormous fame via Hawaii 5-0; silent movies star Clara Bow; DeForest Kelley; Rosemary DeCamp—one of the cast of Dr. Christian, when Serling served up his prize-winning script; Rip Torn; Claudia McNeil; director Alex Marsh. So much talent, so many suggestions, and all received more or less the same response, a friendly acknowledgment of their interest and a vaguely worded promise to keep their name in mind should a suitable role arise.
Burgess Meredith would star in three episodes of The Twilight Zone. Here he is in the first, “Time Enough at Last.”
CBS/Photofest
Serling’s own star, too, was set to rise as it was determined that he should take on a more traditional hosting role, appearing onstage at both the beginning and the end of the show, while the network also agreed that his name should appear during the closing credits as the creator of the television series—a role that nobody, of course, was in any doubt of, but that affirmed The Twilight Zone as wholly his baby.
Today, we might even call it his brand . . . or, perhaps, he was the brand, for as the show’s lifetime lengthened, so The Twilight Zone became a presence on bookshelves and comic racks too, all with Serling’s name displayed as prominently as the show’s.
Fan clubs proliferated, and, in late 1960, CBS’s Columbia Records arm released a Twilight Zone long-playing record, with a dozen tracks composed by Big Band arranger Marty Manning, all inspired, both sonically and titularly, by the show.
With an ensemble comprising vocalist Lois Hunt, guitarist Mundell Lowe, harmonica player Jerry Murad, Harry Breuer on vibes, Phil Kraus playing percussion and Manning himself on keyboards, The Twilight Zone featured the following numbers: “The Twilight Zone” (2:07); “Forbidden Planet” (2:28); “The Lost Weekend Theme” (2:41); “Invitation” (3:04); “You Stepped Out of a Dream” (2:16); “The Unknown” (2:15); “Far Away Places” (2:13); “Spellbound Concerto” (2:16); “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” (2:16); “The Moon Is Low” (2:25); “Night on Bald Mountain” (2:19) and “Shangri-La” (1:59).
Of these, the album’s liner notes declared,
To pluck such sounds out of The Twilight Zone and give them expression, an astounding group of musical instruments was brought together. The familiar tones of woodwinds, trumpet, piano and guitar were expanded and given shapes through electronic sorcery. And to them were added exotic instruments that seem to have been invented for, and even in, The Twilight Zone; the Martinot, the Ondioline, the bongos and the whole spectrum of percussion instruments.
A vast library of sound effects added further intriguing notes. All of these were employed by arranger Manning to produce sounds that are musical, witty and beyond question other worldly.
With so much going on, Serling became not exactly a regular face on television, but an increasingly familiar one. In 1960, he recorded a minute-long Community Fund Spot for airing over the closing credits of various CBS programs, reminding people what The Twilight Zone was (and when it could be viewed) before continuing on “about something in our own time, dimension and place. In your community the problems are real enough . . . and for many people, too real. Families, children, young people, the sick, the elderly: they often run head on into problems that are too much for them. And many people . . . of all ages . . . get help from the health and welfare services supported by your United Fund or Community Chest. That means it’s up to you. It’s your community . . . here and now. Give your fair share too. Give the United Way.”
He loaned his voice, too, to Art Linkletter’s Easter Seals campaign. At the same time, however, hosting was not a role he relished. “I really don’t like to do [it],” he told the United Press International in August 1963. “I do it by default. I have to. If I had my druthers, I wouldn’t do it. If I had to go on live, of course, I’d never do it.”
But the role came with its own benefits, beyond increasing his on-screen time—a new wardrobe, supplied (in return for a promotional consideration, of course) first by Kuppenheimer Clothes of Chicago, and later by Eagle Clothing.
Behind so much outward success, however, The Twilight Zone continued to fight, and not always win, some dramatic battles. Budgetary concerns were always at the fore, with CBS regularly suggesting new ways of slashing the program’s costs—filming it straight to videotape was one particularly egregious notion, given the attendant loss of both quality and control that that infant medium then represented.
Similarly, CBS rarely gave Serling the green light to plow ahead with a full season of stories, preferring to renew the series piecemeal, ten stories here, ten stories there, at the same time as the industry itself believed they were crazy to be hesitant. But the second season was almost two-thirds over before The Hollywood Reporter, in March 1961, announced that
the best indication that Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone will be a shoo-in for a third season is the fact that producer Buck Houghton isn’t thinking about other project offers, even though he has but nine more segs to roll for wrapping the current skein. . . .
Burgess Meredith, for instance, will eagerly wing in soon for his third Zone. Not one to pass this Buck, Serling’s large measure of respect for Houghton’s efforts is proved by the fact that he’s insisted on no “executive producer” crawl credit so’s no one will underestimate Houghton’s major contribution to the series.
It would be May 1961 before the third season of The Twilight Zone was confirmed by CBS, although Houghton would go on record suggesting that the delays were not entirely the fault of the network. Serling, too, was hankering for a vacation, and occasionally would begin one. But then a story idea would strike him and he’d be back at the grindstone soon enough. But he remained unhappy. He’d talked in the past of turning his back on the show, but generally in private. Even as he should have been celebrating the news that CBS had commissioned a third season; even, in fact, as that third season launched in October 1961, Serling was reflecting back on season two and regretting far more of it than even the show’s critics would agree with.
“I’m tired of it,” he told Show Business Illustrated. “I was tired after the fourth show. It’s been a good series. It’s not been consistently good, but I don’t know of any one series that is consistently good when you shoot it in three days. We’ve been trying gradually to get away from the necessity of a gimmick, but the show has the stamp of the gimmick and [that’s what the audience] look . . . for now. It’s tough to come up with them, week after week.”
No more than a third of the episodes, he said, were what he considered good. A third were “passable.” And the remainder were “dogs.” It was still a better ratio than many shows could manage, he believed. But in his mind, The Twilight Zone had already run out of steam, and he almost sounded resigned to the fact that “it will be with us another season.”
One final season.
Season Two at a Glance
|
Episode |
Director |
Writer |
Broadcast |
|
“King Nine Will Not Return” |
Buzz Kulik |
Rod Serling |
September 30, 1960 |
|
“The Man in the Bottle” |
Don Medford |
Rod Serling |
October 7, 1960 |
|
“Nervous Man in a Four Dollar Room” |
Douglas Heyes |
Rod Serling |
October 14, 1960 |
|
“A Thing About Machines” |
David Orrick McDearmon |
Rod Serling |
October 28, 1960 |
|
“The Howling Man” |
Douglas Heyes |
Charles Beaumont |
November 4, 1960 |
|
“The Eye of the Beholder” (aka “The Private World of Darkness”) |
Douglas Heyes |
Rod Serling |
November 11, 1960 |
|
“Nick of Time” |
Richard L. Bare |
Richard Matheson |
November 18, 1960 |
|
“The Lateness of the Hour” |
Jack Smight |
Rod Serling |
December 2, 1960 |
|
“The Trouble with Templeton” |
Buzz Kulik |
E. Jack Neuman |
December 9, 1960 |
|
“A Most Unusual Camera” |
John Rich |
Rod Serling |
December 16, 1960 |
|
“The Night of the Meek” |
Jack Smight |
Rod Serling |
December 23, 1960 |
|
“Dust” |
Douglas Heyes |
Rod Serling |
January 6, 1961 |
|
“Back There” |
David Orrick McDearmon |
Rod Serling |
January 13, 1961 |
|
“The Whole Truth” |
James Sheldon |
Rod Serling |
January 20, 1961 |
|
“The Invaders” |
Douglas Heyes |
Richard Matheson |
January 27, 1961 |
|
“A Penny for Your Thoughts” |
James Sheldon |
George Clayton Johnson |
February 3, 1961 |
|
“Twenty Two” |
Jack Smight |
Rod Serling, based on an anecdote from Bennett Cerf’s Famous Ghost Stories |
February 10, 1961 |
|
“The Odyssey of Flight 33” |
Jus Addiss |
Rod Serling |
February 24, 1961 |
|
“Mr. Dingle, the Strong” |
John Brahm |
Rod Serling |
March 3, 1961 |
|
“Static” |
Buzz Kulik |
Charles Beaumont, based on a story by OCee Rich |
March 10, 1961 |
|
“The Prime Mover” |
Richard L. Bare |
Charles Beaumont |
March 24, 1961 |
|
“Long Distance Call” |
James Sheldon |
Charles Beaumont and William Idelson |
March 31, 1961 |
|
“A Hundred Yards over the Rim” |
Buzz Kulik |
Rod Serling |
April 7, 1961 |
|
“The Rip Van Winkle Caper” |
Jus Addiss |
Rod Serling |
April 21, 1961 |
|
“The Silence” |
Boris Sagal |
Rod Serling |
April 28, 1961 |
|
“Shadow Play” |
John Brahm |
Charles Beaumont |
May 5, 1961 |
|
“The Mind and the Matter” |
Buzz Kulik |
Rod Serling |
May 12, 1961 |
|
“Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?” |
Montgomery Pittman |
Rod Serling |
May 26, 1961 |
|
“The Obsolete Man” |
Elliot Silverstein |
Rod Serling |
June 2, 1961 |