And now we come to the unfortunate fourth season of Serling’s The Twilight Zone. When one talks about what makes the show the high quality product it is, one may comment upon the snappy endings, the exceptionally taut and well crafted writing, the grand performances. All of these elements do remain in the fourth season, effected profoundly by one key difference. Forced by a studio still longing to cancel his show, Serling had to expand his episodes to an hour in length. Sterling’s simple response was that the show “is the perfect half hour show... if we went to an hour, we’d have to fleshen the stories our stories, soap-opera style. Viewers could watch fifteen minutes without knowing whether they were in a Twilight Zone or Desilu Playhouse”. The frank truth is of course that some half-hour episode struggle to fulfil their running time, this then was of course the minority amongst lesser episodes, but in the fourth season almost every episode was plagued by padding and scripts that just can’t justify their length. This season also consisted 0f 18 episodes rather than the usual amount somewhere between 35 and 40. In all honesty I struggled to get 10. All but my top 2 picks suffer from this change in format and make the whole season a real sore point for fans and viewers alike. All that being said these episodes do have moments of great quality within them and at a half-hour edit may well have been some of my favourites, however it is the frequent issue that these episodes simply all outstay their welcome.

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NOTE: As many fans of the show, and many passive viewers know, there is a great aspect of the show that is the endings. Some such endings will be eluded to in these essays. If this affects you, then re-watch the seasons and then return here. However I do feel that with so many of these episodes, the endings are already iconic and never hinder my repeat watching’s in many instances, instead effects them in a positive manner. Albeit, you have been warned.


10.  The New Exhibit (Episode 115 – April 4, 1963)

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I don’t wish for these comments to all be based around how the episode could be improved, however this  Jerry Sohl written (ghost writing for Charles Beaumont who was dealing with the dementia that would eventually take his life) and John Brahm directed episode is perhaps the most annoying example of a thwarted concept. The idea of murderous wax figures wreaking havoc and the idea that it may well just be a trick of the mind is an ingenious one and Brahm takes full advantage of sequences with these figurines, their looming and haunting presence is definitely what makes the episode worthy of its place here on this list. However the episode’s strongest factor is its lead performance from Martin Balsam, perfectly imbuing all the mystery and danger of a possibly murderous character, whilst always making us second guess what may be the reality of the episode. Some great sets and some terrific acting however simply can’t remove the glaring issues with the episodes’ ending and its delivery of it.

9.  Passage on the Lady Anne (Episode 119 – May 9, 1963)

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This episode from Lamont Johnson begins as the tale of a crumbling relationship, before making for its backdrop the stunning vistas and haunting sets of an old cruise ship populated solely by the elderly. A tale of death and the acceptance of such a thing paired with the tale of a final attempt to save a marriage is an interesting parallel of beginnings and ends. Lee Phillips and Joyce Van Patten as our young couple are genuinely wonderful in their respective roles, with Phillips subtlety juxtaposing Van Patten’s more outward energies perfectly to make their dynamic a vital and interesting one. However the vast array of talent on display amongst the elderly supporting cast is what brings this well-written episode into its final destination. Although at times that destination does seem laboured by the extended running time, our actors lead us through it making us want to spend time with those we are with. An interesting, ghostly and ultimately effecting episode that I wish utilised its time better and didn’t leave its final revelations for Serling’s closing narration and rather explored the concepts of its conclusion within the episode itself.

8.  The Thirty-Fathom Grave (Episode 104 – January 10, 1963)

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A very laboured episode stretching its plot very thin, however Serling does here maximise some of his time better that the other writers, with a script following a boat investigating a sunken ally submarine. This tale of ghosts and ghouls quickly reveals itself to be a tale of grief and guilt, building in thoughts and discussion of war PTSD that is brought brilliantly to the screen through the direction of Perry Lafferty, with subtle and sparring use of special effects to bring the ghosts to the screen. Aswell as stirring, if vaguely melodramatic, performances from some of the leads involved, particular Mike Kellin as Chief Bell, whose frantic and over-exaggerative facial expressions may come off as slightly ridiculous but in the hands of Lafferty and the editor come off as a brutal depiction of all those themes I mentioned earlier. John Considine isn’t given much to do, but does well if what he is given. A standout would be Simon Oakland as Captain Beecham, sturdy and deliberate and everything a captain should be. So that when he falters, we feel the effect deeply.

7.  Jess-Belle (Episode 109 – February 14, 1963)

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Originally aired on Valentine’s day in 1963, Jess-Belle is one of the shows more twisted love stories and ends up being more about those not in love than those who are. Anne Francis (The After Hours) returns not as a mannequin but rather as a witch, as we view her origin into this life and what led her to it, and in turn how that affected the small town she resided in. This episode is well directed by Buzz Kulick who brings the bizarre world of witchcraft into the real small-town south that the episode presents. This is of course the strong suit of our writer this episode, Earl Hamner Jr. whose semi-folksy tales bring a different world into The Twilight Zone, his writing here is some of his best and he manages brilliantly to build and build, utilising not labouring the hour format. James Best, Laura Devon and Virginia Gregg all do great work in their supporting roles bringing the multiple changes that occur in the script to be ones that are seen as natural, rather than out of the blue.

6. Mute (Episode 107 – January 31, 1963)

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This Richard Matheson penned episode directed by acclaimed film director Stuart Rosenberg is a stellar piece about a telepathic mute little girl adopted by a grieving couple following a tragic fire. This little girl we come to know as Cora is played wonderfully Ann Jillian in a complex and troubling performance that sets an unease about the rest of the episode. Her parents offer much of the darkness and drama of the piece with Frank Overton and Barbara Baxley in splendid performances. The crux of the episode is intriguing and Matheson brings many interesting concepts to light for our characters, with Rosenberg doing some intriguing camera work to bring these concepts to the screen. A heartfelt conclusion featuring Twilight Zone regular Oscar Beregi Jr. is what brings this episode home as a touching family drama, over its high concept sci-fi plot roots. The scenes shared by Jillian and Baxley are the clear standouts here.

5.  He’s Alive (Episode 106 – January 24, 1963)

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This very heavy-handed but ultimately wholly effective episode was considered by Serling, who wrioe it, to be the most important episode of this series. With its themes of contemporary Nazism rearing its ugly head again after the war, it certainly is important and will never not be important. A few years back I remember Serling’s incredibly powerful final narration making the rounds again. I place here once more, for as I say – It will never not be needed to hear.

Where will he go next? This phantom from another time, this resurrected ghost of a previous nightmare... Anyplace, everyplace where there’s hate, where there’s prejudice, where there’s bigotry. He’s alive. He’s alive so long as these evils exist. Remember that when comes to your town. Remember when it when you hear his voice speaking out through others. Remember when you hear a name called, a minority attacked, any blind unreasoning assault on a people or a human being. He’s alive because, through these things, we keep him alive.

The episode reportedly received four thousand pieces of hate mail directed to Serling and his staff, however in my eyes that can only speak to the power of the piece. In particular the central performances of Dennis Hopper, so dynamic and brutal in his orating of vitriol, and Ludwig Donath, so proud and defiant in his views and opinions. An effective and brilliant episode that I feel would only be mad better by it playing the hand of its twist earlier and making it the plot itself, rather than a turn we already expected the episode to take.

4.  Miniature (Episode 110 – February 21, 1963)

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This bizarre little episode from Charles Beaumont and his ghost writers benefits from the hour length if solely for us to spend more time coming to understand the nature of our lead and his obsession with the titular miniatures that he has come to fall for, and utilise as a refuge from a modern world that he seems desperately out of place in. The reason this episode works is because cast in the role of the complex and most likely neuro-divergant Charley Parkes is Robert Duvall who never looks down on Charley and never romanticises his view of things, he simply breathes tremendous life into the character and hence makes the episode and the character believable and plausible and one that remains with you long after it has closed. But it remains with you this time around not due to a horrible haunting or devastating conclusion, but rather one that leaves you on a happy note and a hopeful one, for Charley, for the audience and for all involved.

3.  Printers Devil (Episode 111 – February 28, 1963)

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Burgess Meredith is without a doubt the true king of The Twilight Zone when it comes to performances, starring in many of the best episodes ever made in the shows run. Of those this may be one of the weaker efforts but is certainly still an enjoyably farcical episode with a stellar Meredith performance and some great work from the supporting cast. Of his four characters he played on the show this was the only purely unsympathetic character, which is rather expected with him playing the devil afterall. Meredith takes great pleasure in playing this all-mighty trickster and revels in the deceits and farces that the devil here puts Robert Sterling and Pat Crowley through, both of which doing great work as the devils foils. The conceit of the episode is mostly very entertaining also, with I feel room for it to be taken even further, that being said however I would still prefer a shorter version of this episode than a longer one.

2.   Death Ship (Episode 108 – February 7, 1963)

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A brutal and deeply effecting episode that puts some of the shows finest return guests into a situation where grand heady themes give way only to horrific realism and a depiction of grief and suffering in a cosmic plain. Don Medford directs Matheson’s script with patience and pain that makes the labouring of the hour length work as a slow-burn and chiefly as a choice rather than something forced upon the creators. Matheson’s script is sensational and balances large concepts with human troubles wickedly well. Our trip of performers here are a perfect set, without one of them being out of place or not up to the task of the writing and performance. Jack Klugman, Ross Martin and Fred Blair make up our crew and each of them takes turns in breaking our hearts and fuelling our deep anger. But we can’t figure their situation out either and so we are simply as mentally stranded as they are.

1. On Thursday We Leave for Home (Episode 118 – May 2, 1963)

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Without a doubt the finest episode of the season and without a doubt one of the finest episodes of all time. Trust Serling and Kulick to bring us one of the greatest episodes the show ever had, in spite of every issue that arose format wise. James Whitmore gives us one of the all-time performances the show ever had and perhaps the finest turn in his entire career, including his iconic performance as Brooks in The Shawshank Redemption. Whitmore’s Benteen is pitted against Tim O’Connor’s Sloane for a fierce but ultimately complex debate and discussion upon the pain and hardship of the choice that lies at the heart of the episode, whether or not to leave the colony and whether or not to take the Thursday flight that the title eludes to. This question and more is dissected in Serling’s incredible script, brought to life by one of the show’s greatest ensemble casts. Building effortlessly and tautly made, Thursday is an episode that will never not make one feel a great sense of pain and fury.

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And so we leave the unfortunately lesser fourth season of this seminal show. Hindered by an unwanted change of form, Serling still rallied to deliver a few classic episodes and a couple that will even make the final best of list. But this season really is the elephant in the room for even the most diehard of Twilight Zone fans. The following season would however return to its classic half-hour format and give us some of the greatest episode the show ever had. We will talk about them next week. See you then, beyond the stars.

      - Thomas Carruthers