Twilight Zone: The MovieAnthology movies referencing classic TV shows of yesteryear were all the rage in the Eighties. Among them was Twilight Zone: The Movie, which includes four remade "episodes" and a prologue mushed together to recall that formative series. Narrating these segments at the beginning and end of each is the voice of Burgess Meredith--in lieu of series creator and original narrator, Rod Serling--in the first of many, many Easter eggs to come. (Meredith starred in an iconic episode, referenced in the prologue.) Twilight Zone: The Movie is thus packaged as a cinematic jog down memory lane...or should that "Maple Street"?
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The prologue and first episode of the film were directed by John Landis, of An American Werewolf in London fame. The beginning is delightfully innocuous. A pair of fellas are riding along on an empty road out in the middle of nowhere. They sing along to a cassette of "The Midnight Special" by Creedence Clearwater Revival until the tape deck eats it and they resort to trivia games to pass the time. The driver (Albert Brooks) plays a game with his passenger, turning off the headlights trying to scare him a little. The passenger returns the favor in a way that is emblematic of Landis's work and of that quintessentially Eighties blend of horror and comedy that permeates the rest of this movie. Next, Landis's "Time Out" features a disgruntled (and openly racist) business man named Bill (Vic Morrow), who rants in a bar with his co-workers about getting passed up for a promotion by a colleague who is Jewish, making everyone else uncomfortable or angry. When he leaves the bar in an agitated state, he is mysteriously transported back to Nazi-occupied France, where he experiences first-hand what it means to be victimized by intolerance. This continues with a space-time jaunt to the Deep South, where he is mistaken for a black man, and then to Vietnam. This episode of the film, unfortunately, would live in infamy, as a scene featuring a helicopter (not in the movie) resulted in a tragic accident that ended the lives of Morrow and two children. Ultimately, Bill is forced onto a train with other Jews after being catapulted back to France, and it is implied that he is taken to a concentration camp. One wonders if this episode might have benefited from Bill returning to his own time, experiencing a recanting of his bigotry à la Ebenezer Scrooge. Instead, it is a cautionary tale reminding those who bully others that they will find themselves without allies when they are most in need.
The second episode to be revisited was one called "Kick the Can", about a rest home where--for a night--youth pays a visit, in body and mind. This episode was directed by Steven Spielberg, and boy does it show. Charm and nostalgia oozes from every scene. An elderly man with a kindly and youthful disposition named Mr. Bloom (Scatman Crothers) has a healthy debate with another resident named Leo Conroy (Bill Quinn) about whether they should engage in a game of "kick the can". Leo insists that it is irresponsible for old people to do something like that, since they could be hurt, but Bloom emphasizes that age is a state of mind. When night falls, all but Leo sneak out to the yard to play, rekindling those feelings of being young, and--given the nature of the movie--predictably they turn into kids, all but Bloom. Some feel liberated by this second chance at life, like the Peter Pan-esque Mr. Agee (Murray Matheson/Evan Richards), while others recall that this means that they would be deprived of the joy of their sunset years. It's a touching story about how we treat our elderly, and how presumptuous it is to expect people who have lived for so long to just stop enjoying those simple pleasures of youth.
This segment is followed by "It's a Good Life", directed by Joe Dante, remaking the episode of the same name from the show, which prominently featured Bill Mumy as a child with god-like powers over reality, coddled by his terrified family. (Mumy also has a cameo.) In this take on the story, a young teacher named Helen Foley (Kathleen Quinlan) is moving for a new teaching job, and stops in at a local diner for directions. After she sees a young boy being pushed around, she intervenes. Leaving, she accidentally backs her hatchback into the same boy, wrecking his bicycle in the process. She learns that the boy, named Anthony (Jeremy Licht), lives in a secluded house out in the desert with his decidedly weird family. It takes Helen an inordinately long time before she starts to figure out that something is wrong with Anthony and his life there, climaxing in a full-blown cartoon assault on reality. What helps to separate this take on the story from its predecessor is Helen's role as a teacher. Sure, it would be easy to say that Anthony represents what kinds of monsters spoiled children become when discipline is lacking, but Helen offers--despite Anthony casually condemning his sister, Ethyl (Nancy Cartwright), to death in a cartoon nightmare--to help the boy control his power, mysteriously adding that she'd like him to teach her as well...but to what end? (Oh, and for the record, peanut butter on a burger isn't that bad; even better with bacon.)
Twilight Zone: The Movie closes out with another remake, this one of the famous "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet", and it is directed by George Miller. In lieu of William Shatner hamming it up as an airline passenger appearing to have a nervous breakdown, John Lithgow plays a tech researcher named John Valentine. John clearly doesn't like flying in the first place, evidenced by his panicking in the bathroom before the gremlin even makes an appearance. Of course, the gremlin--i.e. the "man on the wing of the plane" who is destroying the engines--is far less man-like than in the TV show, and...is that the theme song to Gremlins playing when it shows up, I hear? Given this film's pedigree, I wouldn't be surprised. John Lithgow absolutely steals this vignette, as no one--and I mean no one--does mania quite like him. I'm talking full-on screaming, hysterics, cold sweats, shaking, and so on. But John (Valentine) has good reason; not just owing to his fear of flying but the realization that there is a supernatural force actively trying to kill him. How would you react? The film closes with a bookend of the prologue, but I'll resist spoiling that detail at least. Suffice to say, for a film that is essentially one big nod to the past, casting a nod back unto itself isn't surprising.
Twilight Zone: The Movie does exactly what it sets out to do, but regrettably never feels like its more than what it superficially appears to be. Perhaps this comes from viewing the film from the lens of today, where "reboots" and "remakes" are far too common--to the point that nearly everything feels drenched in an overload of nostalgia at the expense of originality. That's part of the problem here, but then again, I have to remember that in the Eighties, even though "The Twilight Zone" was a show that was often rerun on local network affiliates, it wasn't "on demand". So a love letter to this beloved series perhaps meant more then than it does now. But this film was far from the first (or last) to adhere to this cut-and-paste horror anthology format, preceded by the likes of Creepshow and even Heavy Metal, and followed by movies such as Cat's Eye, almost all of which (to me) feel like they might have been better suited as an actual TV show instead. Even "The Twilight Zone" television series has been remade multiple times, although none have captured the pure imagination and suspense of the original. Perhaps that speaks to the old saying, that you can remember the past but you can never relive it.
Recommended for: Fans of Eighties horror anthology films, and for those who don't mind a film that fundamentally feels like binging a few episodes of a remake of "The Twilight Zone", which is what this movie really is. Twilight Zone: The Movie was never a masterpiece, yet it's reputation is forever tarnished by the tragedy that accompanied its production. If there is any silver lining, it's that it led to more thorough safeguards for film production and child labor which (mostly) have helped movies remain pleasant escapes from the tragedies that plague the real world from time to time.
The second episode to be revisited was one called "Kick the Can", about a rest home where--for a night--youth pays a visit, in body and mind. This episode was directed by Steven Spielberg, and boy does it show. Charm and nostalgia oozes from every scene. An elderly man with a kindly and youthful disposition named Mr. Bloom (Scatman Crothers) has a healthy debate with another resident named Leo Conroy (Bill Quinn) about whether they should engage in a game of "kick the can". Leo insists that it is irresponsible for old people to do something like that, since they could be hurt, but Bloom emphasizes that age is a state of mind. When night falls, all but Leo sneak out to the yard to play, rekindling those feelings of being young, and--given the nature of the movie--predictably they turn into kids, all but Bloom. Some feel liberated by this second chance at life, like the Peter Pan-esque Mr. Agee (Murray Matheson/Evan Richards), while others recall that this means that they would be deprived of the joy of their sunset years. It's a touching story about how we treat our elderly, and how presumptuous it is to expect people who have lived for so long to just stop enjoying those simple pleasures of youth.
This segment is followed by "It's a Good Life", directed by Joe Dante, remaking the episode of the same name from the show, which prominently featured Bill Mumy as a child with god-like powers over reality, coddled by his terrified family. (Mumy also has a cameo.) In this take on the story, a young teacher named Helen Foley (Kathleen Quinlan) is moving for a new teaching job, and stops in at a local diner for directions. After she sees a young boy being pushed around, she intervenes. Leaving, she accidentally backs her hatchback into the same boy, wrecking his bicycle in the process. She learns that the boy, named Anthony (Jeremy Licht), lives in a secluded house out in the desert with his decidedly weird family. It takes Helen an inordinately long time before she starts to figure out that something is wrong with Anthony and his life there, climaxing in a full-blown cartoon assault on reality. What helps to separate this take on the story from its predecessor is Helen's role as a teacher. Sure, it would be easy to say that Anthony represents what kinds of monsters spoiled children become when discipline is lacking, but Helen offers--despite Anthony casually condemning his sister, Ethyl (Nancy Cartwright), to death in a cartoon nightmare--to help the boy control his power, mysteriously adding that she'd like him to teach her as well...but to what end? (Oh, and for the record, peanut butter on a burger isn't that bad; even better with bacon.)
Twilight Zone: The Movie closes out with another remake, this one of the famous "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet", and it is directed by George Miller. In lieu of William Shatner hamming it up as an airline passenger appearing to have a nervous breakdown, John Lithgow plays a tech researcher named John Valentine. John clearly doesn't like flying in the first place, evidenced by his panicking in the bathroom before the gremlin even makes an appearance. Of course, the gremlin--i.e. the "man on the wing of the plane" who is destroying the engines--is far less man-like than in the TV show, and...is that the theme song to Gremlins playing when it shows up, I hear? Given this film's pedigree, I wouldn't be surprised. John Lithgow absolutely steals this vignette, as no one--and I mean no one--does mania quite like him. I'm talking full-on screaming, hysterics, cold sweats, shaking, and so on. But John (Valentine) has good reason; not just owing to his fear of flying but the realization that there is a supernatural force actively trying to kill him. How would you react? The film closes with a bookend of the prologue, but I'll resist spoiling that detail at least. Suffice to say, for a film that is essentially one big nod to the past, casting a nod back unto itself isn't surprising.
Twilight Zone: The Movie does exactly what it sets out to do, but regrettably never feels like its more than what it superficially appears to be. Perhaps this comes from viewing the film from the lens of today, where "reboots" and "remakes" are far too common--to the point that nearly everything feels drenched in an overload of nostalgia at the expense of originality. That's part of the problem here, but then again, I have to remember that in the Eighties, even though "The Twilight Zone" was a show that was often rerun on local network affiliates, it wasn't "on demand". So a love letter to this beloved series perhaps meant more then than it does now. But this film was far from the first (or last) to adhere to this cut-and-paste horror anthology format, preceded by the likes of Creepshow and even Heavy Metal, and followed by movies such as Cat's Eye, almost all of which (to me) feel like they might have been better suited as an actual TV show instead. Even "The Twilight Zone" television series has been remade multiple times, although none have captured the pure imagination and suspense of the original. Perhaps that speaks to the old saying, that you can remember the past but you can never relive it.
Recommended for: Fans of Eighties horror anthology films, and for those who don't mind a film that fundamentally feels like binging a few episodes of a remake of "The Twilight Zone", which is what this movie really is. Twilight Zone: The Movie was never a masterpiece, yet it's reputation is forever tarnished by the tragedy that accompanied its production. If there is any silver lining, it's that it led to more thorough safeguards for film production and child labor which (mostly) have helped movies remain pleasant escapes from the tragedies that plague the real world from time to time.