Wonderful Westerns: 12 “Twilight Zone” Western Episodes, Part 1
Continuing with our theme of horror/Westerns, we’re going to make a stop into another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. That’s right — The Twilight Zone. Rod Serling’s masterpiece of television is something that everybody is at least familiar with. We all know that creepy intro music, Rod Serling’s opening and closing narrations, and the countless episodes with memorable lines and twists that got us thinking about our society. Seeing as last Thursday (Oct. 2) was the anniversary of the show’s airing, I thought it would be a good idea to look back at its Western-themed episodes.
Now, one may not exactly count The Twilight Zone as a “horror” series, but there are some chilling episodes that can definitely be count as horror stories. Also, as we’ve seen over time how the definition of horror has changed.
We’ll take a look at 12 episodes total: six in this entry, six in next week’s column. In these articles, my definition of Western is certainly going to be very loose, and I know that there are probably one or two episodes that could be counted as Western episodes that I’m probably forgetting, but these are the 12 that I feel are worth talking about. I’ll also be including the opening narration of each episode to give a quick rundown of the plot. And because who else to better describe the episode than Serling himself?
For the record: at the time of publishing, these episodes — along with all of seasons one, two, three, and five — are available to watch on Netflix.
1) “Mr. Denton on Doomsday” (Season 1, Episode 3)
“Portrait of a town drunk named Al Denton. This is a man who’s begun his dying early — a long, agonizing route through a maze of bottles. Al Denton, who would probably give an arm or a leg or a part of his soul to have another chance, to be able to rise up and shake the dirt from his body and the bad dreams that infest his consciousness. In the parlance of the times, this is a peddler, a rather fanciful-looking little man in a black frock coat. [A revolver mysteriously appears on the ground next to Denton] And this is the third principal character of our story. Its function: perhaps to give Mr. Al Denton his second chance.”
According to Serling’s widow Carolyn Kramer, Serling had been known to say, “The ultimate obscenity is not caring, not doing something about what you feel, not feeling! Just drawing back and drawing in, becoming narcissistic.” And right off the bat, we get that sense when we see the eponymous Denton (Dan Duryea) being forced to sing for a drink by a bullying barfly — played by a young Martin Landau (who won an Oscar for playing Bela Lugosi in Ed Wood). Later on, we see Denton finding a revolver in his hand, mysteriously provided by the strange Henry J. Fate (Malcolm Atterbury). After Denton gets a sort of revenge against the bully, there’s no celebration as he prepares to face off against other potential gunmen.
You get that strong sense of anti-violence, and it plays against the whole gunfighter image that many probably had around this time. You have Denton, whose life became a living hell because his gunslinger life, another gunslinger (Landau), who is essentially nothing but a bully, and a third character (Doug McClure — who was the partial inspiration for Troy McClure), who is a cocky youngster who has no idea what he’s getting into. The story doesn’t have as many chills, and some can probably predict the ending, but it’s still worth a watch, if just for Duryea’s performance.
2) “Execution” (Season 1, Episode 26)
“Commonplace — if somewhat grim — unsocial event known as a necktie party, the guest of dishonor a cowboy named Joe Caswell, just a moment away from a rope, a short dance several feet off the ground, and then the dark eternity of all evil men. Mr. Joe Caswell, who, when the good Lord passed out a conscience, a heart, a feeling for fellow men, must have been out for a beer and missed out. Mr. Joe Caswell, in the last, quiet moment of a violent life.”
This one barely counts as a Western. That’s because only a few scenes actually take place in the West, but I think it should be in this category because of the main character, Joe Caswell (Albert Salmi), who’s brought to the future by a scientist — played by the Professor himself Russell Johnson — and he finds out that he isn’t as tough as he thought he was.
3) “Dust” (Season 2, Episode 12)
“There was a village, built of crumbling clay and rotting wood, and it squatted ugly under a broiling sun like a sick and mangy animal wanting to die. This village had a virus shared by its people. It was the germ of squalor, of hopelessness, of a loss of faith. For the faithless, the hopeless, the misery-laden, there is time, ample time, to engage in one of the other pursuits of men. They begin to destroy themselves.”
Here we get a sense that Serling was not a fan of the death penalty or the whole “eye for an eye” type of punishment. The man subject to hang is a young man — played by John Alonzo — who’s doomed for the gallows because he accidentally trampled a girl to death with his horse while drunk. Serling really does show that the man has felt nothing but guilt over his actions but is more than willing to accept his fate. The one who has not accepted this fact is his father — played by Vladimir Sokoloff — who’s desperate for his son to be released.
Serling’s tale of forgiveness is equal parts bizarre and touching and keeps you invested. I especially love the portrayal of the Sheriff by John Larch (the police chief from Dirty Harry). He’s a very world-weary and exhausted official who seems to have grown tired of this form of justice. But the one actor who steals the show is Oscar-nominee Thomas Gomez (Ride the Pink Horse) who plays a despicable peddler trying to cash in on this whole ordeal. Every time he shows up onscreen, he hams it up to the point where you can’t help but love his acting.
4) “A Hundred Yards Over the Rim” (Season 2, Episode 23)
“The year is 1847, the place is the territory of New Mexico, the people are a tiny handful of men and women with a dream. Eleven months ago, they started out from Ohio and headed West. Someone told them about a place called California, about a warm sun and a blue sky, about rich land and fresh air, and at this moment, almost a year later, they’ve seen nothing but cold, heat, exhaustion, hunger, and sickness. This man’s name is Christian Horn. He has a dying eight-year-old son and a heartsick wife, and he’s the only one remaining who has even a fragment of the dream left. Mr. Chris Horn, who’s going over the top of a rim to look for water and sustenance and in a moment will move into the Twilight Zone.”
Another episode where I’m going very loosely on the definition of “Western,” but it does have the theme of expansion and growth which has been the theme of other Westerns. Here we have the leader of a wagon trail — played by Oscar-winner Cliff Robertson (Charly); you probably know him best as Uncle Ben in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man — who suddenly finds himself over a hundred years in the future. It’s hard to narrow down what Serling was planning for this episode. If I were to guess, I would suggest that this was a slightly more optimistic episode that shows that while there are trials and tribulations in life, one mustn’t let it squander his or her dreams. Also, I get the feeling that Serling purposefully made Chris look like Abe Lincoln.
5) “The Passerby” (Season 3, Episode 4)
“This road is the afterwards of the Civil War. It began at Fort Sumter, South Carolina, and ended at a place called Appomattox. It’s littered with the residue of broken battles and shattered dreams. In just a moment, you will enter a strange province that knows neither North nor South, a place we call — the Twilight Zone.”
I’m counting this Civil War story because it’s that war that built the foundation of motivation to expand westward and for some of the conflicts during the time.
Right off the bat, we get some chilling imagery of soldiers marching home at the end of the war, and these men are far away from feeling gay about it. One wounded soldier (James Gregory) stops and rests at the decaying remains of a Southern home where he converses with its owner, a widow (Joanne Linville) who lost her husband in the war. As more and more troops march in, you get a sense that not all is as it seems.
This is a terrific episode that coincides with Serling’s well-known anti-war sentiments. This is an episode that shows that war takes a toll on everyone, not just the soldiers but also the civilians and the land itself. The dialogue between Linville and Gregory is just spectacular; both give it their all for these roles. Gregory is amazing as the weary soldier who wants the violence to end and just to return to a more peaceful life. Linville is absolutely chilling as this shell-shocked widow who wants revenge for the death of her husband.
6) “The Grave” (Season 3, Episode 7)
“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 badman 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.”
This is a straight-up ghost story, and it is amazing! This is the kind of great ghost story that you tell around a campfire to people as the fire crackles and the crickets sing in the background. I’ll admit that its ending doesn’t make much sense (to me, at least), but this is a great episode rich with atmosphere and a great cast including Lee Marvin, Strother Martin, and Lee Van Cleef.