Showing posts with label Montgomery Pittman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Montgomery Pittman. Show all posts

Thursday, March 23, 2017

"The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank"

Mr. Jeff Myrtlebank (James Best): declared dead three days ago.

“The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank”
Season Three, Episode 88
Original Air Date: February 23, 1962

Cast:
Jeff Myrtlebank: James Best
Comfort Gatewood: Sherry Jackson
Doc. Bolton: Edgar Buchanan
Mr. Peters: Dub Taylor
Pa Myrtlebank: Ralph Moody
Ma Myrtlebank: Ezelle Poule
Liz Myrtlebank: Vickie Barnes
Orgram Gatewood: Lance Fuller
Ma Gatewood: Helen Wallace
Reverend Siddons: William Fawcett
Strauss: Jon Lormer
Jerry: James Houghton
Tom: Patrick Hector
Mrs. Ferguson: Mabel Forrest

Crew:
Writer: Montgomery Pittman (original teleplay)
Director: Montgomery Pittman
Producer: Buck Houghton
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Director of Photography: Jack Swain
Art Direction: George W. Davis, Phil Barber
Set Direction: H. Web Arrowsmith
Assistant Director: E. Darrell Hallenbeck
Casting: Stalmaster-Lister
Editor: Bill Mosher
Story Consultant: Richard McDonagh
Sound: Franklin Milton, Bill Edmondson
Music: Tommy Morgan

And Now, Mr. Serling:
“A symbol of a sad but rather commonplace event. An impressive funeral, the deceased laid out in a most acceptable manner, but in this case, at the last moment deciding that in matters concerning the trip to the great beyond, perhaps this trip wasn’t necessary. You’ll see it next week on The Twilight Zone when we present Montgomery Pittman’s ‘The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank.’

“Very often when you write for a living, you run across blocks. Moments when you can’t think of the right thing to say. Now, happily, there are no blocks to get in the way of the full pleasure of Chesterfield. Great tobaccos make a wonderful smoke. Try ‘em. They satisfy.”

Rod Serling’s Opening Narration:
“Time? The mid-twenties. Place? The Midwest. The southernmost section of the Midwest. We were just witnessing a funeral. A funeral that didn’t come off exactly as planned…due to a slight fallout…from the Twilight Zone.”

Summary:

            On a sunny afternoon somewhere in the Midwest, the residents of a quiet, forgettable town cram themselves inside a tiny church to pay their respects to one Jeff Myrtlebank, a kind soul taken from the world too soon. As the reverend recites the eulogy, the townsfolk begin to notice something strange about the wooden coffin housing Mr. Myrtlebank’s remains at the front of the room. It begins to creak, to move, and before anyone has time to process what is happening, it opens all by itself and a man inside sits straight up and looks directly at the congregation. This is Mr. Jeff Myrtlebank. He has been dead for three days. The church-goers flee the room, screaming.
         Myrtlebank makes his way outside. His friends and family remain in shock and keep their distance from him. Doc. Bolton explains to him that he pronounced the young man dead two days ago after his pulse failed to register. Myrtlebank says he feels just fine. He notices the apprehensive way everyone is looking at him. He attempts to approach his mother and father but they back away in terror. Comfort Gatewood, his sweetheart, also seems troubled by his unexpected return. After assuring everyone that he is fine, Myrtlebank and his family leave for home.
            Over the next few weeks the townsfolk begin to speculate about Jeff Myrtlebank. They say he’s acting strange, different than before. Doc. Bolton claims that Myrtlebank was dead beyond any doubt when he pronounced him as such. It’s not long before the talk turns to otherworldly things. Perhaps Myrtlebank is not who he says he is. Maybe it’s some sort of specter just pretending to be Myrtlebank. A haint. What if it aims to take over the whole town? After coming to the conclusion that there is an evil spirit living in their town that must be stopped at all costs, a mob of angry townsfolk drive out to the Myrtlebank place.
Myrtlebank is there with Comfort. The townsfolk tell him that they want him to leave town and never come back. He tells them that if indeed he is an evil spirit with supernatural abilities then they should probably refrain from upsetting him. The crowd appears not to have thought of this possibility. Myrtlebank tells them that he and Comfort are getting married. The townsfolk abruptly change their tone and seem delighted by the news. After they leave Comfort witnesses Myrtlebank light a match without striking it on anything. He offers her his arm and tells her not to imagine things. She smiles and they walk quietly into the night.

Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:
“Jeff and Comfort are still alive today. And their only son is a United States Senator. He’s noted as an uncommonly shrewd politician, and some believe he must have gotten his education…in the Twilight Zone.”

Commentary:

            “The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank” marks the end of Montgomery Pittman’s brief time in The Twilight Zone. He directed a total of five episodes of the show, three of which—“Two” “The Grave” and “Jeff Myrtlebank”—he also wrote, making him the only person to write and direct his own material. Unfortunately, this was one of the last projects he ever completed. Cancer would claim his life in June of this same year, only four months after this episode first aired. Pittman’s output is so minimal that his contribution to the show often goes unnoticed, which is unfortunate. His skill as a storyteller can be seen in every aspect of production from story to dialogue to character names to casting. His direction is unique to every episode as is his writing. In just three teleplays he displays enormous versatility delivering a sensitive post-apocalyptic love story, a horror western, and a comedy about a hillbilly being possessed by the devil. One of his scripts features only a few lines of dialogue while the other two function almost exclusively around it. The Twilight Zone seemed to be the appropriate arena for Pittman’s unconventional personality after five years under contract to Warner Bros. Television, bouncing from one series to the next. It was a show that would permit creative experimentation and would not attempt to alter his material, a problem he had encountered several times before. His most recognizable contribution to the show was directing Serling’s season two classic “Will the Real Martian Please Stand up?” While none of his own teleplays for the show ever achieved this level of fandom, all three are solid pieces of dramatic television. More importantly they adhere to the personality of the show. Had he lived and contributed more we might consider Pittman a key figure in the show’s legacy. Instead, he exits the show’s story only a few months after entering it, his episodes recognizable to the vast majority of the show’s fanbase but his name familiar to virtually no one.
Montgomery Pittman
           Pittman is an odd figure in The Twilight Zone’s history. He seems to have appeared out of nowhere at the end of the second season, was enormously productive for a short period of time, and was suddenly gone. Relatively little is known about his early life. His recorded biography is compiled largely of hazy second-hand stories and exaggerations. He was not part of the close community of fantasy writers that made up the bulk of the show’s writing pool and he wasn’t really a recognizable face in Hollywood either. In addition to being the only writer/director the show ever employed, his style of storytelling is unique and his episodes have a strange quality that is hard to describe. And considering that he only directed five episodes he ended up working with a significant roster of performers who would go on to enormously successful careers, likely due in some part to their appearance on The Twilight Zone—Elizabeth Montgomery, Charles Bronson, Lee Marvin, Strother Martin, Lee Van Cleef, and James Best, among others.
            I found only three biographical essays with significant amounts of original material while researching Pittman’s work. Everything else seems to be taken from one or more of these works. The first biographical sketch comes from actor Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. who dedicates an entire chapter of his career memoir My Dinner of Herbs (2003) to his friendship with Pittman. Zimbalist played womanizing private detective Stuart Bailey in ABC’s 77 Sunset Strip, of which Pittman wrote and/or directed twenty episodes, by far his most significant contribution to a single show. The second essay is a tribute to Pittman from Sugarfoot actor Will Hutchins written in 2013 for his column “A Touch of Hutch” for the website Western Clippings. Probably the most informative resource was a piece written in 2010 by television historian John Desmond called “A Somewhat Forgotten Figure to Some Extent Remembered: Notes on Television Director, Script Writer, and Occasional Actor Montgomery Pittman” for Bright Lights Film. Desmond was able to locate many of Pittman’s teleplays, archival news articles written about his work, and inner-office memos in the Warner Bros. Archives at the University of Southern California. He also interviewed Zimbalist and Hutchins several times. The first two memoirs focus on Pittman the man while Desmond spends most of his article analyzing Pittman’s work in television, specifically his contribution to the western genre, citing Pittman’s efforts to push the television western into a mature and authentic arena alongside its big screen counterpart.
Pittman was born in Louisiana—although the city is apparently unknown—in 1917 and later moved with his family to either Oklahoma or Arkansas—again, accounts vary but he may have lived in both states. While still a teenager he left home to sell snake oil in a traveling medicine show. After a stint in the military he settled in New York City to try his hand at acting. It was here that he met actor Steve Cochran (season one's "What You Need") who persuaded Pittman to move to Los Angeles by promising him a job as caretaker of his house. Pittman continued to pursue acting in California, landing bit roles in films like The Enforcer (1951) and Inside the Walls of Folsom Prison (1951). By the mid-fifties, however, he had turned his attention to writing. He found initial success in the live dramas of the time including three teleplays for Schlitz Playhouse in 1954 where he first worked with Buck Houghton. In 1956 he signed with Warner Bros. Television and began writing for ABC, usually for westerns shows like Cheyenne, Sugarfoot, Lawman, and Maverick or for police dramas like Hawaiian Eye and Surfside 6. Pittman wrote several low budget films during this time, the most successful of which is probably Come Next Spring (1956) which starred Steve Cochran and Ann Sheridan and featured Sherry Jackson, Edgar Buchanan, and James Best in supporting roles. He also co-wrote a Tarzan film with Lillie Hayward called Tarzan and the Lost Safari in 1957.
Pittman’s transition into directing was born largely from his disapproval at having his material altered by others. As a director Pittman understood the audience’s relationship with the camera and its influence on the atmosphere of a story. In episodes like “The Grave” and “Dead Man’s Shoes” he saturates scene after scene with high-contrast lighting and peculiar camera angles to draw the audience’s attention to the atmosphere before they know the story or even the characters. This immediately establishes the personality of the episodes, both of which are slightly derivative in terms of plot, and allows Pittman the freedom to be a bit campy in certain scenes because he has established a relationship with the viewer. In episodes like “The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank,” however, or his post-apocalyptic love story “Two,” he lets the characters move the story along, even when they aren’t even speaking. "Jeff Myrtlebank" also features several moments where Pittman uses the camera to give the scene an unsettling atmosphere. The shot of Myrtlebank rising up out of the coffin in the opening scene is highly effective. Pittman combines close ups of the lid opening slowly at first then faster with abrasive music to give the audience the same sense of sudden shock that the characters are experiencing. The fight between Myrtlebank and Orgram is also shot really well.
Pittman also had an eye for casting. Stalmaster-Lister was the agency responsible for casting the show’s third season but according to Lamont Johnson the director still had a significant authority in the casting process. Pittman’s episodes, particularly the three he wrote himself, featured amazing casts with actors who would go on to major careers in film and television.
It is his writing, however, that is likely his strongest skill as a storyteller. In “Two,” probably the best of his writing efforts on the show but only by a narrow margin, Pittman successfully narrates a believable relationship between two strangers with only a few lines of dialogue in the entire episode. His dialogue increases with each episode, however, and by this third teleplay the characters have quite a bit to say and it’s the dialogue that moves much of the episode along. His episodes also feature characters playing against stereotypes. In “Two,” Elizabeth Montgomery is the aggressor not the brutish Charles Bronson. In “The Grave,” Pittman presents the audience with a traditional western scenario, a hired gunman—the hero—chasing a wanted fugitive—the villain. But later in the episode he suggests, through harsh criticism from the supporting characters, that said hero is perhaps a coward, or perhaps not. He leaves it ambiguous. As of this writing his Twilight Zone scripts have yet to be published. The reason for this remains a mystery.
His ear for character names is also noteworthy. Pinto Sykes, Johnny Rob, Mothershed, Steinhart, Comfort and Orgram Gatewood, Jeff Myrtlebank. Creating memorable character names is a difficult task and Pittman makes it look effortless. Even if you only see “The Grave” or “The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank” once, you are not likely to forget most of these names because they are entirely appropriate for both the character and the actor.
During the third season there was a noticeable attempt on the show to feature stories that showcased rural settings, particularly those in the American South, a region largely absent from the previous seasons. Serling penned two episodes set during the Civil War: “The Passersby” and “Still Valley,” his adaptation of Manly Wade Wellman’s story, “And the Valley Was Still.” Wellman was a highly regarded folklorist and historian who set a great deal of his fiction in the Blue Ridge Mountains. He also adapted the light-hearted fable “Hocus Pocus and Frisby” from a story by Frederic Louis Fox. Season three also introduced writer Earl Hamner who would go on to create The Walton’s a decade or so later. Hamner’s first episode “The Hunt,” about an elderly hunter who drowns attempting to rescue his beloved hound dog, takes place in the rural mountains of Virginia, where Hamner was born and raised, and he portrays the region as honestly as possible. Unfortunately, “The Hunt” was poorly translated to the screen due largely to uninspired direction and miscasting. It plays a bit awkward and even culturally insensitive at times. With “The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank” Pittman had the advantage of casting and directing the episode himself. As a result the dialect and mannerisms are completely authentic to rural southern culture.
This was largely achieved by casting actors from the south. Lance Fuller (Kentucky), Dub Taylor (Virginia), Ralph Moody (Missouri), and most importantly Kentucky-born actor James Best who appeared in Pittman’s earlier episode “The Grave” and would later appear in Earl Hamner’s hour-long episode “Jess-Belle” during season four. Although he will forever be remembered as bumbling Hazzard County Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane from The Dukes of Hazzard, Best was an extremely talented and prolific actor of stage and screen. Due to his native southern dialect he was often cast in westerns including a small role in Arthur Penn’s The Left-Handed Gun (1958). He also appeared in Raoul Walsh’s adaptation of Norman Mailer’s The Naked and the Dead (1958). His television resume includes practically every popular western series from 1950 to 1970. He did make several appearances on Alfred Hitchcock Presents and in a famous episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, “The Jar,” based on the story by Ray Bradbury. Anxious and intense, and delivering a spot-on accent, Best nails the role of Jeff Myrtlebank. Pittman’s script calls for a handful of absurd expressions—“I could eat the hide right off a bear”—that would sound ridiculous coming from anyone else. Best understands Pittman’s humor and his performance carries a sense of free-spirited spontaneity.
The supporting cast is equally impressive. Edgar Buchanan gives a fantastic performance as the small town doctor. Buchanan starred in dozens of western films and series during his career but is remembered mostly as Uncle Joe from Petticoat Junction and Green Acres. Dub Taylor is also incredible here as angry and suspicious Mr. Peters. Not surprisingly, Taylor was also a regular in western films for most of his career. He appeared in a string of films directed by Sam Peckinpah including The Wild Bunch (1969), The Getaway (1972), and Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973). He was also one of the wisecracking bar patrons in Back to the Future Part III (1991). His most well-known role was as Ivan Moss in Bonnie and Clyde (1967), the father of C.W. who helps stage the ambush that leads to the deaths of the outlaw couple.
Sherry Jackson, who plays Myrtlebank’s love interest Comfort Gatewood, is actually Pittman’s stepdaughter. Pittman met her mother, Maurita Gilbert Jackson, through his friendship with Steve Cochran. Pittman frequently worked with friends and family. Buchanan, Best, and Taylor had all worked with Pittman several times before. Maurita co-wrote several teleplays with Pittman for 77 Sunset Strip. Sherry Jackson was a child actor when Pittman met her in the early 1950’s. She achieved notoriety as the daughter of Danny Thomas in Make Room for Daddy from 1953 to 1958. She also appears in the Star Trek episode “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” written by Robert Bloch. Pittman frequently cast her in his films.
Providing the slightly bizarre harmonica soundtrack for this episode is Tommy Morgan. Morgan is a highly regarded harmonica player who made his living scoring films and television series, mostly westerns. His playful melody adds an extra layer of humor to the action of the episode. His music can also be heard in “Hocus Pocus and Frisby” and the season five episode “Mr. Garrity and the Graves.”
“The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank” is not a universally recognized episode of the show nor is it Pittman’s best effort. But it’s definitely worth a few viewings for anyone who has never seen it. Some reviewers have read an underlying didacticism in this episode but I don’t think that was Pittman’s angle. I think he simply wanted to tell an entertaining story. Pittman was a novice in the world of fantasy but he seems aware of his limitations. He kept his plots simple and let the characters and the camera tell the story. His final contribution to the show is an appropriate one for it bears all the hallmarks of his brand of storytelling. It’s weird, it’s overflowing with black humor, it plays with a familiar thematic structure, and it ends ambiguously. Myrtlebank does have some type of otherworldly ability but Pittman leaves it at that. The audience never really finds out what happened to him.
In 1962, Pittman, an avid cigar smoker, suddenly and rapidly developed a large tumor on the side of his neck. He had it removed but the cancer had already spread. He died on June 26 at the age of 45. During a brief but productive career Pittman explored all the avenues of the filmmaking process. He managed to take creative control of his material—a rare luxury in the television industry, especially during the early years of its existence—and sought, with mild success, to intellectualize the television western. The Twilight Zone was Pittman’s first major creative venture outside of westerns and detective shows. It was perhaps the first time he was given total creative freedom. The result is a small handful of episodes which bear the mark of a natural storyteller.

Grade: B

Grateful acknowledgement to:

“A Somewhat Forgotten Figure to Some Extent Remembered: Notes on Television Director, Script Writer, and Occasional Actor Montgomery Pittman” by John Desmond (Bright Lights Film, October 31, 2010)

“A Touch of Hutch” by Will Hutchins. (Western Clippings, January, 2013.)

My Dinner of Herbs by Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. (Lighthouse, 2003)

Dimensions Behind the Twilight Zone by Stewart Stanyard (ECW Press, 2007)


Notes:
--Montgomery Pittman also wrote and directed the season three episodes “Two” and “The Grave.” He also directed Serling’s “Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?” for the second season and “Dead Man’s Shoes” written by Charles Beaumont and OCee Ritch for the third season.
--James Best also appeared in Pittman’s episode “The Grave” and in Earl Hamner’s season four episode “Jess-Belle.”
--Ralph Moody also appeared in a first season segment of Night Gallery called “Little Black Bag” adapted by Serling from a story by C.M. Kornbluth.
--Ezelle Poule also appeared in season two’s “The Howling Man.”
--Jon Lormer also appeared in the season one episode “Execution,” the season two episode “Dust” and season four’s “Jess-Belle.”
--As I mentioned, Pittman’s Twilight Zone scripts have yet to be published.
--Download the Twilight Zone Radio Drama starring Robert Knepp

--Brian

Sunday, December 11, 2016

"Dead Man's Shoes"

Warren Stevens as Nate Bledsoe
"Dead Man's Shoes"
Season Three, Episode 83
Original Air Date: January 19, 1962

Cast:
Nate Bledsoe: Warren Stevens
Dagget: Richard Devon
Wilma: Joan Marshall
Chips: Ben Wright
Sam: Harry Swoger
Ben: Ron Hagerthy
Dagget's Woman: Florence Marly
Jimmy: Joe Mell
Maitre d': Eugene Borden

Crew:
Writers: Charles Beaumont and OCee Ritch
Director: Montgomery Pittman
Producer: Buck Houghton
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Art Direction: George W. Davis and Phil Barber
Set Decoration: H. Web Arrowsmith
Assistant Director: E. Darrell Hallenbeck
Casting: Stalmaster-Lister
Editor: Jason H. Bernie
Story Consultant: Richard McDonagh
Sound: Franklin Milton and Bill Edmondson
Music: stock

And Now, Mr. Serling:
"Next week, through the good offices of Mr. Charles Beaumont, we take a walk in some 'Dead Man's Shoes.' It's the story of a hobo who takes some shoes off a recently deceased hoodlum and then discovers that if the shoe fits you have to wear it. And, in this case, you have to do as the shoes do, go where they tell you to, and then perform some services above and beyond the norm. I hope we see you next week for 'Dead Man's Shoes.'"

Rod Serling's Opening Narration:

"Nathan Edward Bledsoe of the Bowery Bledsoes. A man once, a specter now, one of those myriad modern-day ghosts that haunt the reeking nights of the city in search of a flop, a handout, a glass of forgetfulness. Nate doesn't know it but his search is about to end. Because those shiny new shoes are going to carry him right into the capital of The Twilight Zone."

Summary:
            In the early night hours, a dark sedan pulls into an alleyway and dumps a dead body beneath a tenement staircase. The sound of the car awakens Nate Bledsoe, a homeless man sleeping on a bed of newspapers. Nate spies the dead body and proceeds to turn out the pockets of the corpse. Then he sees the nice pair of shoes on the corpse and switches them for his own worn-out shoes. Walking down the street, he is accosted by two fellow homeless men who inquire as to where Nate came upon the nice shoes. But Nate seems confused and much gruffer than his usual meek self. Nate shrugs off the two men and heads to an apartment building on the nicer side of town.
            There he walks in on Wilma, a beautiful woman alone in a top floor apartment. She demands to know who he is. When she sees the shoes on Nate’s feet she recognizes them as belonging to her boyfriend Dane, now a shoeless corpse in an alley across town. Dane may be dead but he’s still pretty lively when Nate’s wearing his shoes.
            Nate comes back to himself when he takes off Dane’s shoes. He doesn’t know where he is or how he got there. Wilma points a gun at him and demands that Nate leave the apartment. When Nate puts the shoes back on, Dane resumes control and easily takes the gun away from Wilma. He kisses her furiously like Dane used to kiss her. Wilma goes into hysterics and Dane slaps her across the face. He’s got business to attend to and Wilma better be there when he gets back.
            Nate/Dane makes his way to a nightclub where he sits close to a table of gangsters and orders tequila with a lump of sugar. Dane’s signature drink. That gets their attention. They don’t recognize Nate so they call him over to the table and ask him who he is and what he’s up to. Nate/Dane tells them that he’s a messenger and he has a private message for Dagget, the leader of the little group.
            Alone in Dagget’s office, Nate/Dane openly talks of Dane’s murder at the hands of Dagget and his goons. Nate/Dane pulls out a hidden gun. One of Dagget’s men springs from a hidden panel in the wall but Nate/Dane gets the drop on him. “You didn’t think that would work twice, did you?” Dane asks. Another of Dagget’s men shoots Nate/Dane though a space in bookcase that conceals another hidden panel.
            “I’ll be back,” Dane warns as he lies dying on the floor of Dagget’s office for the second time that night. “I’ll be back again and again until I get you.”
            Dagget and his men dump Nate’s body in an alley. One of Nate’s fellow homeless friends takes the shoes from Nate’s body and puts them on.      

Rod Serling's Closing Narration:
"There's an old saying that goes: 'If the shoe fits, wear it.' But be careful. If you happen to find a pair of size nine black and grey loafers, made to order in the old country, be very careful. You might walk right into The Twilight Zone."

Commentary:
            “Dead Man’s Shoes” is a breezily entertaining but undistinguished offering from the otherwise exceptional duo of writer Charles Beaumont and director Montgomery Pittman. It is largely derivative in style and subject, bearing a resemblance to the plot and structure of the earlier episode “The Four of Us Are Dying,” along with a number of other film noir offerings on the series. Like “The Four of Us Are Dying,” it also features a jazzy, interpretive musical structure better suited to a crime drama than a fantasy series. 
Charles Beaumont had help scripting the episode from his friend and occasional collaborator OCee Ritch, who does not receive credit on the episode and was previously a contributor to the series as the source (via unpublished story) for Beaumont’s second season offering “Static.” In fact, “Dead Man’s Shoes” is a clear reversal of the process that created “Static,” the latter of which concerned OCee Ritch’s idea adapted by Beaumont whereas “Dead Man’s Shoes” concerns Beaumont’s idea adapted by Ritch. The episode was originally to concern a cowboy hat instead of a pair of shoes. This approach leaned heavily toward comedy but Ritch managed to combine the lighter material inherent in Beaumont’s original idea with an urban edge populated by standard, underworld-type characters. This approach was similar to the method by which Rod Serling adapted Henry Kuttner's and Catherine L. Moore's story “What You Need” for the first season.
Beaumont had yet to display the symptoms of the terrible degenerative disease which would claim his life just five years later but he remained a freelance writer unwilling to turn down an assignment. Beaumont was frequently overworked and under pressure of deadlines. He’d long assumed the occasional practice of farming out his ideas for his writer friends to flesh out in television assignments to which he was contractually obligated. This practice became more frequent as Beaumont began to succumb to the disease (generally believed to be early-onset Alzheimer’s) that would ultimately take his life at the young age of 38.
            OCee Ritch and Charles Beaumont initially bonded over their shared loved of automobiles and automotive racing. Ritch authored several manuals on motorcycle repair for the Chilton series of publications in the 1960's, and also contributed to a volume of sports racing material compiled and edited by Beaumont and William F. Nolan (The Omnibus of Speed: An Introduction to the World of Motor Sport, G.P. Putnam's, 1958; "The Golden Days of Gilmore"). Beaumont and Ritch soon discovered a mutual love of nostalgia and collaborated (under Beaumont's name) on nostalgic essays for Playboy and other magazines ("The Bloody Pulps," "The Golden Age of Slapstick Comedy," "Don't Miss the Next Thrilling Chapter!"). Ritch's talent for dramatic writing was also apparent to Beaumont and, besides their two episodes on The Twilight Zone, the two writers produced collaborative efforts (under Beaumont's name) for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour ("The Long Silence," with William D. Gordon, based on "Composition for Four Hands" by Hilda Lawrence), Boris Karloff's Thriller ("Guillotine," based on a story by Cornell Woolrich), and Channing ("Gate to Nowhere"). Ritch also appeared in director Roger Corman’s 1962 adaptation of Charles Beaumont’s 1959 novel The Intruder (along with appearances by George Clayton Johnson and William F. Nolan, and Beaumont himself). Ritch published an article on the making of the film in the December, 1961 issue of Rogue magazine. 
            Director Montgomery Pittman graced the series for a brief time from the end of the second season through the middle of the third season and brought with him both a distinguished style and the distinguishing characteristic of being a director that often wrote the episodes he directed. Pittman wrote three of the five episodes he directed (the exceptions being Rod Serling’s “Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?” and “Dead Man’s Shoes”) and, like many of the series directors, was adept at infusing an episode with a distinctive film noir aesthetic.
            Two areas in which the series shines is in its variety and its outstanding stable of directors. Much like the varieties of writing on the series, Rod Serling and producer Buck Houghton encouraged individual directors to work against any type of “house” style to present unique visions on the series. This practice was aided by the presence of cinematographer George T. Clemens, a man adroit at adapting to the individual styles of the show’s many directors.
            The Twilight Zone is often seen as a science fiction series primarily concerned with the recognizable tropes of the science fiction genre. Though the series did attempt several recognizable forms of science fiction, from time travel to robots to dystopian futures to interplanetary travel to alternate dimensions, the show took great efforts to attempt virtually every form of popular storytelling. Beyond the experimental episodes (including a couple of virtually silent episodes and one in which the faces of the principle cast remain hidden) the series attempted everything from romance to ghost stories to westerns to tales of war to screwball comedy. One style frequently staged on the series was that of film noir, a style distinguished by shadowy lighting and camera effects to illustrate tales of detectives and criminals. 
            It should come as no surprise that the series would approach such subject matter considering the unique type of urban fantasy the creators returned to time and again, evident in such offerings as “What You Need,” “The Four of Us Are Dying,” “Nervous Man in a Four Dollar Room,” “The Prime Mover,” “A Nice Place to Visit,” and some half dozen more. It is even less surprising when one surmises the talented directors Serling and company brought to the show, several of whom made their reputations in film noir or in the earlier, formative mode of expressionism, including Ida Lupino (also notable for both acting and directing on the series as well as being the only female director to helm an episode), Jacques Tourneur, Robert Florey, and John Brahm.
            Montgomery Pittman can be placed in that company as well if one looks to his small but varied output and recognizes the noir-influence style he brings to tales as diverse as “Two,” “The Grave,” and “The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank.”
            “Dead Man’s Shoes,” however, is also part of a smaller subgenre occasionally seen on the series which changes the tonal dynamic of the episode. It is a “magic item” episode and, like its counterparts “A Penny for Your Thoughts,” “A Piano in the House,” and “A Kind of Stopwatch,” there is a liberal sprinkling of levity into the episode’s graver moments (the notable exception being the generally grim episode “What You Need”). One of the more amusing moments in the episode is also the best scene, that in which Nate/Dane (Warren Stevens) returns to Dane’s apartment and is confronted by Wilma (Joan Marshall), Dane’s girlfriend. The moment in which Nate alternately removes the dead man’s shoes and puts them on again is very amusing and played relatively straight. Pittman chooses to focus on the facial expressions of the two principle actors with effective medium shots. One method by which Ritch and Pittman tamper the comedic impulse of the story is in the high level of abrupt violence which ends the second and third acts. Most shocking is the level of domestic abuse which Wilma sufferd under Dane as Nate/Dane both threaten to break her arm and both strike her across the face in the space of a few minutes.
            The pleasingly deadpan style of prolific actor Warren Stevens perfectly illuminates the gallows humor characteristic of the material. Stevens saw Broadway early in his acting career before moving into film and television, the latter medium providing him with more than 150 credits, including plenty of genre material. Stevens had a memorable role (and death) in the 1956 science fiction film Forbidden Planet. On the small screen Stevens appeared in episodes of Inner Sanctum, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Science Fiction Theatre, One Step Beyond, Star Trek, and a long-running association with producer/director Irwin Allen, appearing in such Allen productions as Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, The Time Tunnel, Land of the Giants, and The Return of Captain Nemo (also known as The Amazing Captain Nemo).
            Joan Marshall, who portrays Wilma and shares the best scene of the episode with Stevens, has provided even more unique contributions to genre film and television. Marshall used the stage name Jean Arless to portray the dual characters which are climatically revealed to be singular in William Castle’s 1961 film  Homicidal, which was largely an imitation of and attempt to cash in on the success of Alfred Hithcock’s Psycho (1960). As was Castle’s style, the budget was lowered and the shocks were ramped up to create a movie that got a surprising amount of positive buzz at the time of release but is largely considered inferior material by posterity. Homicidal does continue William Castle’s tradition of mounting a novelty marketing campaign in a memorable way. The film was given a 45-second “Fright Break” before the climax, allowing those viewers not brave enough to finish to film to be released from the theater to sit in a “Coward’s Corner” in the lobby.
Marshall is also remembered by genre fans as the first matriarch of The Munsters. In the original, unaired, color-filmed pilot episode, “My Fair Munster,” Marshall portrayed Phoebe Munster, a character replaced by Lily Munster portrayed by Yvonne De Carlo. It has been suggested that the character of Phoebe was too similar to the character of Morticia Addams as portrayed by Carolyn Jones on the ABC series The Addams Family. Another Munsters character that was altered along with Marshall’s Phoebe was the character of Eddie Munster, originally played in a comedic, ferocious style by Happy Derman in the unaired pilot before being re-imagined and replaced by Butch Patrick for the series proper.
            “Dead Man’s Shoes” was re-imagined in an effective episode of the first Twilight Zone revival series, “Dead Woman’s Shoes.” The episode concerns a timid thrift store worker (Helen Mirren) who puts on a pair of donated high heeled shoes which allow the spirit of a murdered woman to assume control of her body in an effort to exact revenge on her husband (Jeffrey Tambor). The episode was adapted by writer Lynn Baker and directed by Peter Medak. Several key scenes from the original are mirrored in the update in interesting ways. “Dead Woman’s Shoes” largely shies away from the violence of the original episode (with the notable exception of a scene in which a woman is slapped across the face) and exchanges the dark, urban landscape of the original for a bright, Beverly Hills setting which does not detract from the effectiveness of the story. Mirren is particularly good in the episode and it features a truly unsettling scene in which the dead woman telephones the husband to announce her return. One other interesting aspect of the adaptation is that a mirror is used in a number of quick edited shots to reflect how the dead woman looked in life. You will notice in the original episode that the character of Nate, after he puts on the dead man’s shoes, looks into a mirror situated on top of a scale but the opportunistic moment is wasted. The new Twilight Zone episode comes recommended for those curious to see an effective updating of the material. "Dead Man's Shoes" was also nominally the inspiration for an episode of the second revival Twilight Zone series titled "Dead Man's Eyes," in which a window discovers that her deceased husband's eyeglasses reveal the final moments of his life, including his murderer.
            “Dead Man’s Shoes” seems the very definition of an average episode, notable neither for its high or low quality. It contains interesting connections to other aspects of the series but the setting is generic, the characters stereotypes, the story predictable (with requisite twist ending), and the performances vary from memorable to forgettable. Ultimately, “Dead Man’s Shoes” fails to ignite the imaginative power of the third season’s strongest offerings.     

Grade: C

Grateful acknowledgement is made to The Work of Charles Beaumont: An Annotated Bibliography and Guide by William F. Nolan (2nd edition, Borgo Press, 1990)

Notes:
-Montgomery Pittman directed four additional episodes of the series, of which he also wrote three. Use the “Montgomery Pittman” label on the sidebar to access the episodes he wrote/directed.
-Warren Stevens also appeared in the first Twilight Zone revival series episode "A Day in Beaumont," which originally aired April 11, 1986.
-Ben Wright also appeared in the first season episode “Judgment Night” and the third season episode “Deaths-head Revisited.”
-OCee Ritch also wrote the story upon which the second season episode “Static” was based. “Static” was scripted by Charles Beaumont.
-“Dead Man’s Shoes” was remade for the first Twilight Zone revival series as “Dead Woman’s Shoes.” The episode starred Helen Mirren and Jeffrey Tambor, was adapted by Lynn Baker, and directed by Peter Medak. It originally aired on November 22, 1985.
-“Dead Man’s Shoes” was adapted as a Twilight Zone Radio Drama, starring Bill Smitrovitch.


-Jordan Prejean

Thursday, May 5, 2016

"The Grave"

Hired gun Conny Miller (Lee Marvin) arrives at the grave of outlaw
Pinto Sykes to await his doom.
“The Grave”
Season Three, Episode 72
Original Air Date: October 27, 1961

Cast:
Conny Miller: Lee Marvin
Mothershed: Strother Martin
Johnny Rob: James Best
Steinhart: Lee Van Cleef
Ione: Ellen Willard
Ira Broadly: Stafford Rep
Jasen: William Challee
Corcoran: Larry Johns
Pinto Sykes: Richard Geary
Man on Rooftop: Bob McCord (uncredited)

Crew:
Writer: Montgomery Pittman (original teleplay)
Director: Montgomery Pittman
Producer: Buck Houghton
Production Manager: Ralph W. Nelson
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
Art Direction: George W. Davis and Phil Barber
Set Decoration: H. Web Arrowsmith
Editor: Leon Barsha
Sound: Franklin Milton and Bill Edmondson
Music: Stock

And Now, Mr. Serling:
“It’s traditional in the great American western that the climax of any given story is the gun-down on the main street. Next week, Montgomery Pittman has written a story in which we have our gun-down and then go on from there. It’s a haunting little item about a top gun as he was alive…and his operation after death. This is one for rainy nights and power failures, but wherever you watch it, I think it will leave its imprint.”

Rod Serling’s Opening Narration:
“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 bad man 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.”

Summary:
            America, the Old West. A group of vigilante killers and lawmen converge on a lone gunman in the middle of a small town. Armed men are stationed up and down the main street: on rooftops, in windows and doorways, behind wagons, behind buildings, in every possible route of escape. The man they are tracking is named Pinto Sykes. As he exits a saloon a man calls out to him and tells him to surrender. Sykes draws and is shot dead.
            Several days later, night. Conny Miller, a hired gun in pursuit of Sykes, rides into town. He enters a saloon where three patrons, all of whom were involved in the shooting, inform him that Sykes is dead. They also tell him that Sykes had claimed that Miller was afraid of him and deliberately remained a day behind to avoid a confrontation. According to those were by his side when he died, Sykes issued a warning for Miller to stay away from his grave or the outlaw would rise from the dead and grab him.
Miller denies the claim just as Sykes’s sister, Ione, enters the saloon. She repeats her brother’s threat and dares Miller to visit the grave. Then she leaves. The three patrons also dare him to visit the grave and they propose a wager. If Miller can visit Sykes’s grave and plant a knife in it to prove he was there, he wins forty dollars. Furious, but wanting to prove his courage, Miller accepts.
When he arrives at the graveyard, he spots a drunk Ione leaving. She offers him a drink of whiskey to calm his nerves but he declines. She tells him that her brother is waiting for him and then leaves. Miller makes his way over to Sykes’s grave. All around him the wind howls. He hears strange noises and begins to lose his nerve but forces himself to ignore it. He kneels by the grave and plunges the blade of a long hunting knife into the fresh dirt. As he prepares to stand up, however, he is pulled back down.
          The next morning. When Miller fails to come back the three patrons speculate over what happened. They notice that Miller’s horse and belongings are still at the bar so they know he hasn’t left town. They decide to accompany Ione to the graveyard to find out what happened. When they get there they find Miller sprawled over Sykes’s grave, dead. One of the patrons, a gambler named Steinhart, attempts to explain what happened. He believes that Miller mistakenly pinned his coat to the ground after the wind blew it over the grave and died of fright when he tried to stand up. But Ione claims that this is not possible for the wind would have been blowing in the wrong direction. Claiming that the wind is blowing in the same direction as the previous night, she demonstrates by standing where Miller would have stood. She gives the three men a haunting smile as the wind blows her long, black cloak behind her, far away from the grave of outlaw Pinto Sykes.

Rod Serling’s Closing Narration:
“Final Comment: you can take this with a grain of salt or a shovel 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.”

Commentary:
            “The Grave” wasn’t the first time The Twilight Zone explored the Western genre nor would it be the last. Probably the most interesting thing about the show, and the thing that distinguishes it from other anthology programs, is that it created a recognizable world for the audience. Not one that can be defined in terms of geography or time, but one immediately familiar just the same. No writer, except Serling, was ever under contract to the show or to CBS. This allowed each writer the freedom to develop their own voice. It also established a nice dynamic for the series as one that could discuss many different themes and ideas but somehow formulate them into one universal approach. Writers could hop genres and time periods liberally and the episodes would still feel like pieces of the same show.
            Although “The Grave” was written and directed by Montgomery Pittman, no stranger to the Western genre, all of the other Western-themed episodes were written by Rod Serling. It seems obvious that Serling, a writer deeply concerned with social prejudice, would have had an affinity for Westerns, a genre which continuously explored the struggle between right and wrong and the price of the human condition. The Western was also the genre that most accurately reflected the pulse of the era in which it was made. Although the stories were set in the American frontier of the nineteenth century they commented on contemporary issues, which is what Serling was trying to accomplish with fantasy. The portrayal of the archetypal good-guy-hero-gunslinger and the absolute distinction between good and evil in traditional Westerns appealed to post-war audiences and the genre flourished in virtually every medium between the late 1940’s and mid-1960’s. However, as the nation changed so did the Western.
By the end of the 1950’s many filmmakers had begun to shed certain tropes of the genre in exchange for realistic themes and characters. Films like The Searchers (1956), The Left-Handed Gun (1958), and The Magnificent Seven (1960) began to showcase a new kind of Western, one that was adapting to a rapidly changing social and political landscape. These films, and countless others, often featured flawed heroes, unrealistic expectations, and unhappy endings. They reflected a nation moving further and further away from the Norman Rockwell idealism of the early twentieth century and closer to a Vietnam War-era mentality. These films were the beginning of the end for the genre, the last great wave of Westerns to be produced by Hollywood before the collapse of the studio system. And the Westerns that followed throughout the next decade or so, namely Sam Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch (1969) and Pat Garret and Billy the Kid (1973) and the spaghetti westerns of Sergio Leone, had far more in common with the bleakness and realism of the emerging independent film movement than with their predecessors in the Hollywood studio system. Even the television Western, once a fan favorite of viewers of all ages, was vanishing. By the middle of the 1970’s the reign of the Western, one of the oldest and most celebrated genres of the cinematic landscape, was over. Filmmakers would revisit the genre in the subsequent decades (there are several A-list Westerns scheduled for release this year) but America’s fascination with the genre it had created and so often relied upon was gone.
While the movement towards a more mature and reflective Western had been present in film since the 1950’s, television was far more reluctant to push creative boundaries. This is most likely due to the industry’s inexperience at diversifying content to such a broad audience on such a new medium. Another reason was that the networks were in constant fear of losing sponsorship. However, on a fantasy program, especially an anthology series, networks were far more tolerant of creative experimentation. If the viewers or advertisers didn’t like something about a particular episode it was easier to reassure them that it would not occur again if the following week’s episode was going to be completely different.
This is likely one of the reasons Montgomery Pittman found himself working on The Twilight Zone. Thus far in his career, he had written mostly within the confines of serial dramas such as 77 Sunset Strip, Cheyenne, and Sugarfoot. Like Serling, he had taken measures to ensure his artistic freedom due to his frustration with studios and networks altering his scripts. On a fantasy program, especially one where the writer was held in such high regard, he was free to create misunderstood characters or blend genres, as he does here.
“The Grave,” doesn’t subscribe to the somber themes that run throughout the Westerns of the 1960’s, but it isn’t a return to traditional Westerns either. On the contrary, it almost seems to be poking fun at them a little. None of the characters here are particularly redeemable and the hero, who may or may not be a coward, is ridiculed by the supporting cast. “The Grave” is a combination of the classic American Western and traditional horror folklore, which makes it an early example of the Horror Western. Pittman isn’t working toward a moral at the end of the story. He only wants to entertain the audience. This episode could have taken place anywhere, as the origin story demonstrates. But the desert setting lends it an overtly Gothic atmosphere which makes it unsettling and fun at the same time.
Many will recognize this story from American and European folklore. It is often referred to as “The Graveyard Dare” or simply “The Dare.” The setting and characters differ with each version but the basic plot, someone being challenged to visit a graveyard alone and then dying of fright, is always present. A well-known version, entitled “The Dare,” appears in The Thing at the End of the Bed and Other Scary Stories (1953) by American folklorist Maria Leach. In her version a group of boys talk around a fire. The town curmudgeon has recently died and the boys dare one another to visit his grave, which is supposedly haunted. Finally, a boastful young man announces that he will visit the elderly man’s grave and leave his knife as proof. He follows through with his plan but pins himself to the ground and dies of a heart attack. In her notes, Leach claims that the tale is too old and widespread to be traced to a single source but she does list several versions that predate hers. The oldest version on her list appears in a 1934 collection by Dr. Ralph S. Boggs called North Carolina White Folktales and Riddles. Probably the most widely-read version of this story appears in Alvin Schwartz’s classic 1981 collection, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. This version features kids, presumably teenagers, at a party where a boy dares a girl to visit the graveyard down the street and stand on top of the grave. The rest of the story is much the same as the others.
“The Grave” is one of two episodes (the other is George Clayton Johnson’s “Nothing in the Dark”) filmed during Season Two but held until Season Three. Principle photography took place in March, 1961, six months before it actually aired. This makes “The Grave” Montgomery Pittman’s first appearance on the show as it predates his first screen credit in Season Two’s “Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?” by several weeks. The reason for shelving these episodes is likely due to CBS’s concerns over production costs. Despite its immense popularity, The Twilight Zone was always a program in danger of cancellation. In an effort to save the show Buck Houghton asked CBS for an early commitment on the third season. This way the show could begin filming in the spring of 1961 (before the end of the second season) and continue through the summer, when the salaries of the cast and crew would be lower and the MGM backlot would be readily available. The network agreed and after the second season officially ended the show continued shooting new episodes well into June. But by the time the second season was drawing to a close they had more episodes than they had time slots. So the decision was made to hold two episodes until the third season. As a result, “The Grave” and “Nothing in the Dark” are the only Season Three episodes that do not feature a title or production credits at the start of Act I. Instead, they are listed during the closing credits as was the format for Season Two. “The Grave” was one of several episodes considered as the season premiere. But Houghton and Serling choose to hold it until October and promote it as a Halloween episode, which ended up being a wise decision.
As an actor turned writer/director Pittman seemed to have an eye for talent. All of his Twilight Zone episodes feature early performances from actors who went on to establish successful careers in film and television. “The Grave,” however, has perhaps the best collection of well-known Hollywood faces of any episode of the show. James Best  was a friend of Pittman's. He had a prolific career in television, appearing largely in Westerns, before landing the role of Sherriff Rosco P. Coltrane in The Dukes of Hazzard. This is the first of three Twilight Zone appearances for Best who also appears in Season Three’s “The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank” (also written and directed by Pittman) and Season Four’s “Jess-Belle.” The rest of the leading actors (Lee Marvin, Strother Martin, and Lee Van Cleef) all went on to enormously successful film careers. Their credits, which include dozens of highly-regarded Western classics, are too many to list. Less than a year after this episode aired all three appeared together in John Ford’s The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance—considered by many to be the best Western film of all time. Marvin plays the title character, the villain of the film, and Martin and Van Cleef play his two cronies. I was unable to locate the production date for the film but it was released in April of 1962 and “The Grave” had most likely finished filming by the time casting began on the Ford film.
           Lee Marvin’s struggle with alcoholism and his resulting behavior on this and various other projects has been well documented. Houghton reportedly had to postpone the first day of filming after Marvin arrived on the set intoxicated. The next day, however, the actor arrived on time and gave a formal apology to the cast and crew. The incident does not seem to have affected his performance for he is totally believable as ridiculed tough guy Conny Miller.
What’s frustrating about “The Grave” is that it’s an enjoyable episode with great performances from an all-star cast and a fun, well-crafted atmosphere that is marred by a slow, dreary final scene. For starters, it is the only scene to take place during the day which removes the established mystique almost immediately. Also, the twist demands a detailed explanation—rarely a good strategy—which brings the pace of the story to a halt. The fact that the first twenty minutes are so enjoyable only makes the final two or three minutes of the episode that much more disappointing. It’s a lot of built up anticipation for little reward. The fateful scene in which Marvin pins himself to the grave is also awkward. Because he cannot reveal the twist Pittman cannot shoot Marvin from the waist down nor can he show the grave. This gives the shot a clumsy, confusing feeling which weakens the suspense to some extent. 
            But the “The Grave” still manages to be an entertaining episode despite the lackluster ending and it's one that audiences may find more enjoyable in subsequent viewings. The performances really are spectacular and Pittman’s direction here is possibly his best work on the show. The high contrast lighting and gothic set pieces give it a strong resemblance to the German horror films of the 1920’s. The fact that the cemetery scene, with its absurd prop department grave markers and roaring wind soundtrack, was so clearly shot on a sound stage only adds to the atmosphere somehow. It appears to have been a conscious decision but it works. For anyone who may have been turned off from the episode after a single viewing I would suggest giving it another look. It’s a fun episode that is equal parts Hollywood nostalgia and solid, honest storytelling from a writer whose work warrants more attention than it is often given.

Grade: B

Illustration by Molly Bang for "The Stake in the Graveyard" by Americo Paredes,
a folktale from Mexico similar to the one dramatized in "The Grave"

Notes:
--Lee Marvin (1924 – 1987) also appeared in Season Five’s “Steel.” Marvin won an Academy Award for Best Actor in 1966 for his performance in Cat Ballou.
--James Best (1926 – 2015) also appeared in Season Three’s “The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank” and Season Four’s “Jess-Belle.”
--Stafford Repp (1918 – 1974) also appeared in Season Two’s “Nick of Time” and Season Five’s “Caesar and Me.” A prolific television actor, he is mostly remembered for his role as Chief O’Hara in the 1960’s Batman series.
--William Challee appeared in an episode of Rod Serling's Night Gallery titled "The Little Black Bag." 
--Montgomery Pittman (1917 – 1962) wrote and directed the Season Three episodes, “Two” and “The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank.” He also directed Season Two’s “Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?” and Season Three’s “Dead Man’s Shoes.” The Twilight Zone was one of his last projects.
--“The Grave” was adapted into a Twilight Zone Radio Drama starring Michael Rooker.

--Brian Durant