The Twonky is stranger than strange. A comedy-science fiction movie written by novelist Henry Kuttner and directed by one-time radio tyro Arch Oboler, it features Hans Conried as a college professor whose life is turned upside down by a television set that has developed a personality of its own, and seems determined to take over Conried's as well. Part of the fun is watching the star grapple (this may not be quite the right word) with his material in what may well be his only starring film role. I loved Hans Conried when I was growing up. He was a one of a kind performer who never got really well cast in movies or on television, though he had a successful stage and radio career. Conried was at once child-like and supercilious, and he had a vaguely European demeanor and sensibility, though he was in fact American-born. There was a refined, aristocratic quality to him, and he had impeccable timing. He was hammy and ironic at the same time, and he had a way of letting you knew that he knew that you got it. As an actor he was like a cross between Vincent Price and Joseph Schildkraut. Style was everything with him. What the hell he was doing in this bizarre-sub B movie is anyone's guess. He is well-cast in this film, but the movie is like a Saturday Night Live send-up of Ed Wood. As such it is enjoyable. Seldom has so much talent screwed up so regally as in The Twonky. I'm surprised it's not a cult classic.
