The Twilight Zone Review: The Purple Testament

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By William Kozy

Known for his purple prose monologues, Rod Serling’s opening to “The Purple Testament” was just that—a testament to his skill at such poetic prose: “Infantry platoon, U.S. Army, Phillipine Islands, 1945. These are the faces of the young men who fight, as if some omniscient painter had mixed a tube of oils that were at one time earth brown, dust gray, blood red, beard black, and fear – yellow white, and these men were the models. For this is the province of combat, and these are the faces of war.”

The episode has an intriguing premise, but probably could have used a bit more narrative ingenuity to follow it up with in terms of active engagement on the protagonist’s part rather then passivity. Perhaps this is what held it back somewhat in my survey asking, “What is your favorite episode of the original Twilight Zone series?” “The Purple Testament” received only 4 votes, tying it with 9 other episodes for 124th thru 132nd place.

Lieutenant Fitzgerald (William Reynolds) has found himself, inexplicably, suddenly possessing the ability to know who amongst his comrades is going to die simply by seeing their faces light up with an eerie glow. When the platoon arrives back to base camp after taking a bridge, the sullen Reynolds is stopped by Captain Riker, played here by Dick York who is better in this dramatic role than in the comedic “A Penny for Your Thoughts.” Riker has noticed that Fitzgerald looks bothered, and so offers to share a bottle of Philippine tuba (a coconut wine) back at his tent to talk it out. As he questions Fitzgerald compassionately, Reynolds plays the scene with an off-putting style of defensiveness. He comes off that way throughout the episode and it doesn’t serve him well. Our sympathy for him ebbs a bit every time he answers a question with a tone that sounds like he’d like to pick a fight.

In this initial conversation, Fitzgerald unloads his burden and shows Riker a slip of paper on which he wrote the names of the four platoon members that died on that day’s mission. The kicker: he tells Riker that he wrote those four names down yesterday. Fitzgerald explains how he looked into 44 faces, and when he looked into those four men’s faces, “I knew they were gonna get it” he says. Riker notes that it is indeed “funny” but we’re not sure yet exactly what he thinks of it, or of Fitzgerald’s mental health. He tries out a possibility, asking Fitzgerald with vehemence, if he’s sure he wrote the names down yesterday. But Fitzgerald is sure.

In the next scene, Riker is at the hospital seeking insight from the medical officer Captain Gunther (Barney Phillips, the counterman from “Will The Real Martian Please Stand Up?”). But Gunther has found nothing in Fitzgerald’s records to indicate anything troubling. Gunther suggests they run some tests, which Riker is thankful for since Fitzgerald is “one of our best officers.” Fitzgerald is actually there also at the hospital visiting Smitty, one of his soldiers who is laid up in bed with an injury. Smitty has beads of sweat all over him, and in fact everyone in the cast consistently looks like they’ve walked through a spa mister before doing a scene, to get us to feel the humidity. As Fitzgerald gives Smitty an encouraging word and starts to leave, he looks back at Smitty who has thanked him. But Fitzgerald is horrified to see that Smitty’s face is lit up with that same glowing light, and so Fitzgerald faints.

He wakes up to see an orderly standing over him, and guess who it is? It’s future film director Paul Mazursky, who helps him to his feet. As they look over at Smitty, he looks as though he has passed on and sure enough the orderly checks his vitals and confirms it. Fitzgerald sulkily walks downstairs where he runs into Riker and tells him the bad news.
And when Captain Gunther comes out and the orderly reports the death, Gunther says he’ll go up and take look which triggers a temper tantrum from Fitzgerald which feels a bit out of tune, but nonetheless raises the question at least in Fitzgerald’s mind, as to whether he’s causing the deaths, or merely seeing who will die? After Gunther tells him that he’s cracking under pressure, Fitzgerald argues that predicting five out of five is beyond coincidence, but he also raves that “one thing you might do while you’re waiting and scratching, you might put tape over my eyes or poke them out. Do something so I won’t be able to see, so I won’t have to look at any more faces!” And with that he pushes them aside as he exits.

Next we see Riker giving an overview of the next battle plan to his officers. Actor York is just too amiable-natured and can’t resist a big warm friendly smile as he dismisses them with a “Good luck.” It belies the grimness of war. But anyway, the worst happens. Fitzgerald then sees Riker’s face light up with the death-glow. As Fitzgerald turns away and leans against a tent pole, Riker asks if he’s well enough take a platoon. Fitzgerald warns the Captain not to go, and when asked why, Fitzgerald silently turns to face Riker. Without a word spoken, Riker understands, and York does a nice gesture, reaching up tentatively to his own face, to see if he can feel the glow. But Riker strikes out angrily, snapping at Fitzgerald, “We’ll talk about it when we get back! We’ll have a drink to it!” It’s a nice psychological moment, as Riker fights back any fear he may have about Fitzgerald’s “gift.” Reynolds responds, “Captain you won’t be drinking to anything, ‘cause you’re not coming back!” The writing of that line of dialogue feels inappropriately antagonistic, so it’s hard to blame Reynolds for his belligerent delivery. Fitzgerald storms off, and the scene ends movingly as Riker checks his gun, but then takes out some family photos from his wallet, lays them on the table, and then takes off his wedding ring to lay down on top of the photos.

As the platoon prepares to board their transport, one scared soldier asks Fitzgerald “Everybody says you know who’s gonna get it and who isn’t. Well how about it Lieutenant?”…”It ain’t fair if you know who’s gonna get it and who isn’t!” He gets more frantic, but the Sergeant steps in and pulls him off. Riker also steps forward and assures everyone that no one here is a mindreader, to which Fitzgerald gives in and agrees, knowing it’s for the best.

When they come back from the successful mission, Fitzgerald wanders into the tent and sees Riker’s photos and ring. One can’t help wonder if he’s comforted at least a little bit that this is a sign of Riker believing Fitzgerald, something that Fitzgerald was begging for in previous scenes: “I just want you to believe me!” Fitzgerald takes out dog tags from his pocket and lays them alongside the photos. Riker’s dog tags.

Captain Gunther shows up and tells Fitzgerald that he’s to report back to Division so that they can take a look at him. Gunther tells him it’ll be a nice rest for him, but he should pack up and get ready. After doing so, Fitzgerald catches sight of himself in a shaving mirror. And yes, his own face takes on the eerie glow. With the glumness of a man walking to his execution, Fitzgerald heads to the Jeep and steps hopelessly into it. Another surprise future star pops up—the driver is a young Warren Oates who would one day star in film classics such as In the Heat of the Night (1967), The Wild Bunch (1969), and Badlands (1973).

The driver is an affable sort, and tells Fitzgerald to get comfortable since he guesses they have a 4-hour ride ahead of them. To which Mr. Sour Puss says, “Do we? I doubt it.” Maybe if Reynolds didn’t accompany these ornery lines of dialogue with such a combative delivery he could have softened the overall contentiousness. A disconcerted, more careworn portrayal was needed instead of an aggressive one. Actors need to be very aware of the tone that suits a story, even if the dialogue reads somewhat differently. They don’t always have to think, “Gee, this dialogue feels very aggressive so I guess I’ll play the part belligerently.” Sometimes, the artistry and color palette of a performance is better when a performer makes tonal choices that offset the color of the written words. This would have added layering to “The Purple Testament.”

I’ll rate the episode a 5.8

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