Tonight on TCM, anthologies rule the night. Studio One, Kraft Theater, Philco-Goodyear Playhouse, they’re all here, showing their brand of short, stand-alone story telling, the kind television did so well in its early days. Sometimes you’ve got a good story to tell and, frankly, it won’t take more than 27 minutes (or 53 in the case of the hour long shows – can you believe there was a time when there were only three minutes of commercials per half hour of televison?). Some of my favorite television viewing has come from anthology shows and in the eighties, I always looked forward to a new episode of American Playhouse where they featured productions of plays, short subjects, and other original works on a weekly basis where each production had different actors in a completely different story. Anthology shows nowadays tend to run an entire season (True Detective, American Horror Story) rather than change up the story and characters for each episode. It still happens that way on occasion, such as Black Mirror from Britain, but with less success (two series, seven episodes, total). And once Alfred Hitchcock Presents, The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits, and Thriller hit the small screen, anthology shows became increasingly associated with crime, mystery, and the supernatural. Still, it’s a great way to get a lot of points across, from many different points of view, in a single show. Here are some of my favorites over the years.
The Price of Life was presented on PBS in 1987 as a part of the American Playhouse series. It was a short (around 40 minutes) high concept piece about a society that uses time as currency (yes, In Time from 2011 stole most of the plot elements from it and The Price of Life itself uses many of the same plot points as a 1975 short story, Time is Money, by Lee Falk). Of course, the idea of time as money has probably been used another two dozen times elsewhere and everyone thinks they came up with the idea first (Harlan Ellison even sued In Time, but eventually dropped the suit). The idea is simple but powerful: When you’re born, you’re given a select number of hours, equaling many years, and when they run out, you die. As you grow up, those hours tick away and when you buy anything or pay for any service, the currency is minutes, hours, days, weeks, and years. Those who know how to make money, i.e. time, can live for hundreds of years. Those who don’t, die early. Like many anthologies, the power comes as much in the brevity as the story itself. A young man, who’s good at making money, sees his sister die young, in her twenties, having gambled all her time away. He is now faced with using some of his own time to save his mother or keep amassing vast sums of time and live forever. It’s the kind of story that at feature length, would need lots of filler to keep going and, as a result, would lose its potency. At 40 minutes, it’s just right.
Who Am I This Time? was also presented as a part of the American Playhouse series (hey, don’t blame me, I said in the opening paragraph I looked forward to it each week) and has a pretty sterling line up. It was directed by Jonathan Demme, based on a short story by Kurt Vonnegut, had music by John Cale, and starred Christopher Walken and Susan Sarandon. Also, Robert Ridgely. He’s not as famous but, damn, he was great. Anyway, it’s the story of Helene Shaw (Sarandon), a new and very temporary resident of a small town, is convinced by community theater director George Johnson (Ridgley) to audition for the role of Stella in their production of A Streetcar Named Desire. The role of Stanley will be played by Harry Nash (Walken), a painfully shy hardware store clerk who nonetheless lights up when on stage. As Helene falls for Stanley, she must cope with the reality of Harry. At a mere 53 minutes, it’s quick, emotional, and powerful, and shows off much of Demme’s now familiar style, as when characters look directly at the camera, early on in his career.
And now two episodes from a favorite of mine, Hammer House of Horrors. Even though it’s readily available pretty much everywhere online, I own the series because, well, I’m a sucker for horror anthology series. Period. That said, two of my favorites Hammer House of Horrors episodes are Children of the Moon and The House that Bled to Death, both from 1980 because that’s the only year the show ran.
In Children of the Moon, a couple’s car breaks down (in the middle of the spooky English countryside, of course) and they find shelter in a secluded house with an older lady (played by Diana Dors) and a bunch of kids. The old lady’s kids? Who knows? They try to escape, only to be attacked by something furry. Hmm… When they go back to the house, they’re told to stay locked in their room because the kids are going to be roaming around all night and they wouldn’t want to get hurt. Double hmm… Okay, so anyway, werewolves. You probably figured that out by now because, well, the title gives it away, for one thing, and for another, the name of the series is Hammer House of Horrors.
In The House that Bled to Death, a married couple with a young daughter buy a house where a murder occurred. Hmm… (okay, I’ll stop). As they go about trying to fix the old place up, mysterious and deadly things start to happen. Before long, they’re not sure they can keep living there. What’s great to me about this episode has everything to do with the ending. It’s not just that it’s a twist ending, it’s that the twist ending is a cynical comment on a very successful real life situation, one that it was clearly mocking. And then, at the moment, the darkest side of the whole story occurs.
Finally, I offer up Demon with a Glass Hand because it’s one of my favorite sci-fi stories ever. It aired on The Outer Limits in 1964, was written by Harlan Ellison, directed by Byron Haskin, and starred Robert Culp and Arlene Martel. Culp stars as Trent, a man with no memory who has mysteriously transported to an empty building, being pursued by aliens from the future. That should be enough for any sci-fi fan but since it’s Ellison, it involves a lot more and since it’s The Outer Limits, there’s a twist ending that is, of course, sad and tragic. It’s been rumored that it will be adapted to a full length feature film soon but I’d frankly be much happier just leaving it as is. Of course, if someone wants to give it a try, who knows, maybe they can make it work but the story really feels just right at 51 minutes.
There are, of course, dozens of other anthology series out there but those above, along with The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents, are the ones I really watched passionately. I could reel off a list of favorite Twilight Zone episodes in one post alone and maybe even Hitchcock but, especially with The Twilight Zone, I feel those are all pretty well known without me bringing them up. The ones above probably are, too, but I don’t get much of a chance to sing the praises of anthology television here at the Morlocks, so I had to take the opportunity and sing the praises of the ones I love. And now to DVR those coming on today and maybe build up a new collection of anthology episodes I love. Thanks, TCM.