In 1959, network TV was dominated by pretty-boy detective shows (77 Sunset Strip; Hawaiian Eye), law & order westerns (Gunsmoke; Have Gun, Will Travel), and innocuous sitcoms, (Ozzie & Harriet; Leave It to Beaver; The Donna Reed Show). If little else, most of these were entertaining in a blandly narcotizing way. TV producers may have wanted to experiment, but were hamstrung by a production code that was even more restrictive than the notorious motion picture code (crime must not be rewarded; moral transgressors must be punished; the sexes must not be shown in the same bed, etc.). Perhaps more important, producers were strait-jacketed by sponsors who insisted that programming should be as inclusive as possible so as not to risk offending or "confusing" any segment of the audience-- all the better, of course, to sell the sponsor's product, a not unreasonable requirement, given TV's commercial basis.
I mention this background, because it's hard to appreciate the cultural significance of Serling's Twilight Zone without it. For the above restrictions inevitably produced a product that was almost uniformly bland, superficial, and, by most accounts, boringly predictable-- (One near exception was the series from that sly old subversive, Alfred Hitchcock.) But pity the poor writers who week after week had to search for fresh water in the middle of this much traversed desert. Because of the conformist approach, two of the biggest casualties were, not unnaturally, Reality and Imagination. For rarely did any of these shows demonstrate even a nodding acquaintance with reality as most of us live it, while what imagination was shown was, of course, channeled into safe variations on the usual. I think many of us old enough and imaginative enough at the time, knew that network programming could be a lot better than what FCC Commissioner Newton Minnow characterized as TV's "vast cultural wasteland".
Obviously, it would be a great overstatement to view The Twilight Zone as a magic cure for this blighted situation. But, Serling did boldly and persistently set out to challenge the blandness, and in the process prepare the way for greater offbeat programming. Of course, TZ never claimed to introduce 'reality' into a weekly series-- that would come later with 1971's All in the Family. However, Serling did insist upon that other missing ingredient, 'imagination'-- and by the bucket loads. How well I remember that 1959 evening when I tuned in "Where Is Everybody?", the series' pilot and first installment-- Earl Holliman wandering through a mysteriously deserted town, running smack-dab into a mirror, and winding up in a plausibly topical outcome. I expect many others besides myself were bowled over by the novelty of what we had seen. A whole new world of what TV could be opened up, thanks to Serling, and his success in getting sponsors to take a chance on an innovative concept. Even more happily, was the promise of more to come.
Sure, few of the following episodes reached the riveting level of that first installment, at least in my book. But rarely did an entry completely disappoint. Then too, after the first couple of years, the quality dropped off as scripts began buckling under the weekly pressure by falling back on old material for new variations. However, such classics from the first year as "Walking Distance", "And When the Sky Opened", and "The Hitch-Hiker" are among the finest dramatizations of the supernatural ever to appear on TV, and hold up as well today as in that long ago black-and-white. Of course, Serling shouldn't get all the credit. As other reviewers point out, authors such as Charles Beaumont and the greatly under-rated Richard Matheson contributed much to the series' classic standing, as did the often overlooked producer Buck Houghton and director Douglas Heyes. Still and all, it was D-Day paratrooper Serling who exhausted himself in the struggle to deliver three key qualities always in short supply on public airways-- intelligence, innovation, and insight. And for that, those of us graybeards who still enjoy a re-run or two, will always be ready with a tip of the hat to the squinty-eyed gentleman with the cigarette and the powerful belief in the liberating role of imagination.
I mention this background, because it's hard to appreciate the cultural significance of Serling's Twilight Zone without it. For the above restrictions inevitably produced a product that was almost uniformly bland, superficial, and, by most accounts, boringly predictable-- (One near exception was the series from that sly old subversive, Alfred Hitchcock.) But pity the poor writers who week after week had to search for fresh water in the middle of this much traversed desert. Because of the conformist approach, two of the biggest casualties were, not unnaturally, Reality and Imagination. For rarely did any of these shows demonstrate even a nodding acquaintance with reality as most of us live it, while what imagination was shown was, of course, channeled into safe variations on the usual. I think many of us old enough and imaginative enough at the time, knew that network programming could be a lot better than what FCC Commissioner Newton Minnow characterized as TV's "vast cultural wasteland".
Obviously, it would be a great overstatement to view The Twilight Zone as a magic cure for this blighted situation. But, Serling did boldly and persistently set out to challenge the blandness, and in the process prepare the way for greater offbeat programming. Of course, TZ never claimed to introduce 'reality' into a weekly series-- that would come later with 1971's All in the Family. However, Serling did insist upon that other missing ingredient, 'imagination'-- and by the bucket loads. How well I remember that 1959 evening when I tuned in "Where Is Everybody?", the series' pilot and first installment-- Earl Holliman wandering through a mysteriously deserted town, running smack-dab into a mirror, and winding up in a plausibly topical outcome. I expect many others besides myself were bowled over by the novelty of what we had seen. A whole new world of what TV could be opened up, thanks to Serling, and his success in getting sponsors to take a chance on an innovative concept. Even more happily, was the promise of more to come.
Sure, few of the following episodes reached the riveting level of that first installment, at least in my book. But rarely did an entry completely disappoint. Then too, after the first couple of years, the quality dropped off as scripts began buckling under the weekly pressure by falling back on old material for new variations. However, such classics from the first year as "Walking Distance", "And When the Sky Opened", and "The Hitch-Hiker" are among the finest dramatizations of the supernatural ever to appear on TV, and hold up as well today as in that long ago black-and-white. Of course, Serling shouldn't get all the credit. As other reviewers point out, authors such as Charles Beaumont and the greatly under-rated Richard Matheson contributed much to the series' classic standing, as did the often overlooked producer Buck Houghton and director Douglas Heyes. Still and all, it was D-Day paratrooper Serling who exhausted himself in the struggle to deliver three key qualities always in short supply on public airways-- intelligence, innovation, and insight. And for that, those of us graybeards who still enjoy a re-run or two, will always be ready with a tip of the hat to the squinty-eyed gentleman with the cigarette and the powerful belief in the liberating role of imagination.