The Twilight Zone Review: The Incredible World of Horace Ford

By William Kozy

Pat Hingle’s performance in “The Incredible World of Horace Ford” offers one of the more polarizing subjects amongst critics and fans of The Twilight Zone. Aside from the merits of The Bewitchin’ Pool, I haven’t come across another episode that has divided fan opinion as much. There are those that think Mr. Hingle’s performance is a creatively robust juggernaut of energy in the portrayal of a man/child who is overly fond of his childhood memories, and there are those who feel his take on the character is overwrought, over-the-top, and defies logic upon thoughtful examination. Perhaps the latter opinion prevails as the episode received just 5 votes in my survey of fans and writers asking, “What is your favorite episode of the original Twilight Zone series?” This ties it with 7 other episodes for 117th thru 123rd place.

Horace Ford is a toy designer, which right off the bat is a little too on-the-nose a choice of occupation for this boyishly petulant adult. The opening scene puts Horace’s annoying antics on display full force as his friend/co-worker Leonard comes into his office to go over some details about a toy robot that Horace designed. The degree to which Horace carries on makes you wonder how he was ever able to last that long in the company. He certainly doesn’t work well with others. And when Leonard is able to get Horace to settle down and stop goofing around, Horace lapses into a depression as he is faced with the reality that his design needs reconfiguring to fit the production budget. So, that’s one question: Realistically how could such a near-lunatic function in the workplace? And if the answer to that is this has been a recent development, then we must next ask, what has happened to set him off like this so suddenly? The viewer dutifully stays with the episode hoping the answer will be revealed. Frustratingly, we never do find out what has precipitated Horace’s sudden overbearing preoccupation with reminiscing about “growing up, a time of street games, stickball and hide-‘n-go-seek.”

Horace’s wife Laura shows up at work and goes to Leonard’s office to update him on plans for Horace’s surprise 38th birthday party. She asks Leonard to hold on to the present she got Horace so that he doesn’t see it in the apartment. Now okay, yeah, there’s a mate for everyone out there, but this match, Horace and Laura is not a credible one. It’s not just that she’s a beauty, it’s also that she’s such a composed cool blonde, a very mature type. It’s a stretch to believe she would go for the immature and temperamental Horace. The boss, Mr. Judson comes at that same moment to talk with Horace about the toy robot, and Laura holds off visiting Horace until the boss leaves. She listened though as Horace threw an absolute tantrum when Mr. Judson suggested a tweak to bring down the cost. Hingle’s Horace might be an accurate portrayal of a temperamental little boy, but it is an impractical one within the big picture framework of the story.

When Laura and Horace arrive home, we discover that Horace’s mother lives with the couple. That must be fun. But maybe Laura is the kind of person who enjoys seeing her husband joyously recollect funny people and events from his past? Uh…no. As Horace goes into a recollection jag about some such fellow from his, Laura continually tries interrupting Horace to ease off. She even says as they sit at the table, “Horace why don’t you stop? No one cares about when you were ten anymore.” There’s more yapping and suddenly out of nowhere Horace yells out “Why don’t ya just be quiet will ya?!” and he retreats like a brat to his bedroom.

His mother goes to soothe his feelings and Horace starts in again with happy reminiscing about where he lived on Randolph Street. His mother then offers some interesting insight for us—she refutes Horace, telling him it was a terrible street. Like a bolt, Horace decides to go visit his old street. He leaves the apartment without a goodbye to either his mother or wife. Nan Martin as Laura turns abruptly, giving a look off somewhere with an expression that we can’t really decipher. And crazier still is that Randolph Street is apparently very nearby since Horace is next seen strolling through it. So this is his first time there since childhood? It’s this close, and he’s constantly reminiscing about it, but he hasn’t visited the street until this moment? It’s just all too ridiculous.

He returns to the apartment and recounts to his wife how he saw some kids and that they were the same kids he knew when he was a child growing up there. One boy in particular, Hermy Brandt even stopped to turn and give a toothless grin to Horace. Wiping the perspiration from Horace’s face, Laura explains as gently as possible that it couldn’t have been them. Horace wanders off to the bedroom, and the doorbell rings. Laura opens the door and there stands little Hermy saying “He dropped this” and he holds out Horace’s pocket watch that he dropped when he got jostled back at Randolph Street. The weird boy leaves and Laura closes the door slowly, puzzled.

Back at work, Horace tries telling Leonard about running into Hermy the previous evening, but he can’t hold focus on anything as he flies off into tangents like playing ringolevio, and Mickey Mouse watches. Leonard can’t get away soon enough and retreats to his office. Mr. Judson comes by, out of compassion, seeking to find out what’s troubling Horace, but Horaces storms off after another tirade. It all amounts to a lead character who is simply unpleasant to watch and hear.

Back home, Horace again entertains only himself at the dinner table as he narrates some more nutty childhood experiences. Laura looks like she’s getting a migraine. I find it nonsensical that he insists he saw the same boys he knew as a child, and doesn’t wonder how that could be. At the very least wouldn’t he join in with his wife musing, “Yes I know you’re right, they’d be 38 years old now too, but I swear to you I saw them.” Laura wants him to see a doctor for a check-up which prompts Horace to up and leave again, heading for Randolph Street.

There on Randolph Street, things happen again exactly as they did the first time: a couple holding hands, a woman yelling out her window, a drunk jostling Horace, and the young boys bumping into Horace, causing his watch to drop. Horace gives chase as they run off, and overhears them talking about how offended they were about not being invited to a birthday party. Alarmed at that for some reason, Horace races home, and tells Laura, stupefied, “The same thing happened all over again.” He’s starting to show signs of recognizing a pattern that involves him. Laura brings up the issue of getting help, prompting Horace to sulkily shuffle away, closing the door right in her face. The doorbell rings. Laura looks worried. It is indeed Hermy again handing her the watch as she looks worried. Is she starting to think there might be something to Horace’s story? Now mind you, there’s no way she knows it’s Hermy, but it’s sufficiently odd I’ll admit that he’s dressed in old-timey clothes, and AGAIN offers the watch. Something’s up and you can see her wondering.

The next day, Laura goes to Leonard’s office and unloads about Horace’s behavior. Leonard says something interesting; he says that Horace has always been like that ever since he’s known him, but he’s always been able to snap him out of it. Distraught, she tells Leonard that his latest nostalgia trips are “eating him alive.” “I love him” she says, and she’s afraid for his job. She asks Leonard’s help in urging Horace to see a doctor.
Mr. Judson comes by (yet again) to see Horace and discuss his state of mind. The hour-long episodes of The Twilight Zone tend to depict the same type of scene multiple times. Judson is reasonable and kind, but another unjustified Horace tantrum makes it impossible for Judson to keep him on staff so he lets him go, but does urge Horace to get help for what Judson feels is a nervous breakdown.

Horace gets home and delivers the bad news that he’s been fired, which Laura takes in a measured fashion, but Horace’s mother practically breaks down. She goes off on a hysterical fugue about what’s going to happen to her and at age 61 she shouldn’t be worrying about her future. “Shut up!” Laura finally scolds recognizing that Mother’s pressure can only make things worse for Horace the beleaguered man/child. Mother skulks to her room asking, “What did I do wrong? Ever? In my whole life?”

In contrast, Laura is a complete healer, almost unbelievably so. With utmost calmness she very softly and analytically, with great positivity, answers all of Horace’s question and lays out a plan. Horace turns on her, and it’s all the more distasteful, even though we understand that perhaps he’s going through “something”. Turning 40? Is that it? It’s just too big a personality upheaval for that to be the reason. His rebuffing any sort of kindness makes his characterization a rather cruel one I think, and hard to find sympathy for. He once again leaves the apartment without a goodbye. Laura cries as she runs to the phone to call a doctor, but just then the doorbell rings. Surprise! It’s all the guests who have come for the party! Awkward.

At Randolph Street the exact same events unfold. This time when Horace listens to the boys bellyaching about the party snub, he intervenes, but they don’t hear him. He tries apologizing about the birthday, but they don’t acknowledge him until suddenly….Horace turns into the little boy he was at their age. His apologizes are met with disdain and teenage boyhood cruel aggression as they surround him and beat him up.

Back at the party, they all wait for Horace and when the doorbell rings they turn off the lights and Laura lights the cake’s candles. She answers the door and it’s that little creep Hermy again, only this time he hands over a Mickey Mouse watch. THAT was the last straw. Laura leaves the apartment and goes to Randolph Street herself. It looks different now, appropriately modern. No one else is around, but then Laura looks toward the alley where Horace received his beat down and she sees the body of the young boy version, lying unconscious. She runs to him and bends down to him. But then inexplicably gets up. Yep, she gets up and turns away from this injured little boy and she walks over to the wall shrouding herself against it. Who does that? Who doesn’t stay by the little boy’s side and try to provide aid? It’s all done for the cheap reason of having a choreographed effect: when she turns around again, the boy’s body is now Horace’s adult body. And THEN she’s impelled to scurry over and help.

He asks her to please not ask him anything about it, “Cuz I could never…just don’t.” She helps him to his feet asking, “Are you all right now?” She notices he’s all cut, but he says he’s okay and just wants to go home. She holds him close as they walk, and he announces with great theatricality, “I saw something that made every memory I ever had a lie. Because when I was a kid was an ugly, sad, unbearable nightmare. And I saw it. I know what it was. I remember it now.” But really how does that one birthday party incident get extrapolated into an entire childhood of misery?

Laura then delivers this episode’s special message: “I think we’re all like that. We remember what was good, and we black out what was bad. Maybe because we couldn’t live if we didn’t.” Huh? A little extreme aren’t we?

I rate this Mickey Mouse episode a 3.2

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