A Look Back at a Heartfelt Brilliantly Acted Episode of The Twilight Zone

[AdSense-A]

By William Kozy

And coming in 24th place in my “What’s Your Favorite Twilight Zone Episode?” survey: THE CHANGING OF THE GUARD with 67 votes. I received several comments from voters mentioning that because they were in the field of education this episode resonated with them emotionally. A reminder for to thank all those teachers who have had to adapt their teaching methodology to accommodate this Twilight Zone-like social distancing world we now live in.

The PLOT:

We join Professor Fowler in the middle of his English class at the Rock Spring prep school for boys in Vermont. After good-naturedly chastising two of the boys for being “masters of inexactness” the Professor reads to them the poem “When I Was One-and-Twenty” by A.E Housman:

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
“Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.”
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
“The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
’Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.”
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, ’tis true, ’tis true.

Played wonderfully by actor Donald Pleasence (Dr. Sam Loomis in “Halloween”, Blofeld in “You Only Live Twice”, and unforgettable as Colin Blythe, aka The Forger in “The Great Escape”) he tells the boys in good-humored fashion that he will find the compassion to dismiss them early from class today so that they may enjoy getting a start on their Christmas holiday (this episode first aired in June). He tells them that “amazingly enough” they all passed their final examination papers. He continues, “It is rare young men, that in 51 years of teaching, I have ever encountered such a class of dunderheads.” [Cue sentimental violin music.] “But nice dunderheads. And potentially fine young men who will make their mark, and leave their marks. God bless you all and Merry Christmas.” The boys all rise and gather around Professor Fowler, shaking his hand, as we cue up the…

OPENING NARRATION:

“Professor Ellis Fowler, a gentle, bookish guide to the young, who is about to discover that life still has certain surprises, and that the campus of the Rock Spring School for Boys lies on a direct path to another institution, commonly referred to as the Twilight Zone.”

Out in the hallway, the school headmaster (played by Liam Sullivan, who starred as a talkative member of a men’s club in the episode “The Silence”), spots Fowler and calls him into his office. He asks Fowler to make himself comfortable. The headmaster mentions to Professor Fowler that he did not respond to the letter that the Board of Trustees sent to him. Fowler tells him, that he actually hasn’t opened much of his mail the past few weeks as he has been very busy with holiday preparations, and grading papers and final examinations. He simply hadn’t had the time. He says also he has never really grasped the importance of needing to sign a new contract to continue in his teaching post, but he will of course get to it, and mentions to the headmaster the remarkable fact that he just recently taught the grandson of one of his formal pupils. He imagines with fascination and fondness that he just might one day teach the great grandson of one of his students. But Professor Fowler has misinterpreted the nature of that letter from the Board of Trustees. The Headmaster informs him that Fowler has been retired by the Board. Not discharged mind you–“it’s retirement, and at half salary for the rest of your life.” The good Professor is dumbstruck. As he opens the door to take his leave he says, “It certainly proves one thing, on my word it does, it proves that a man should read is mail…” He chuckles sadly, “certainly should read his mail.”

Back at home, he opens a drawer of his desk and pulls out a revolver. A little bit later, sitting in his easy chair, he is listening quietly to Handel’s Messiah on the radio. His housekeeper, Mrs. Landers, urges him to have a nap before dinner. But Fowler rises up and fetches a scrapbook. He begins to look through it and reminisce about former students:

“Timothy Arnold. Never thought that one would pass. Had an incorrigible habit of chewing bubble gum and popping it. Sounded like a howitzer! ‘Pon my word, it sounded like a howitzer. William Hood. Little Bill Hood . . . Smallest boy ever to play varsity football here, and had a penchant for Shelley.”

He turns a page.

“Artie Beachcroft. Now there was a lad. There was a staunch lad. Full of heart, that one. Was he the one? Yes, yes, I recall now. His father sent me a letter. He was killed on Iwo Jima. Freckle-faced little fellow — always grinning. Never stopped grinning. Most infectious grin. He’d walk into a classroom and you had to smile.”

He turns more pages, then closes it with a sigh.

“They come and go like ghosts. Faces, names, smiles, the funny things they did — or sad things, poignant ones. I gave them nothing at all. I realize that now. Poetry that left their minds as soon as they themselves left. Aged slogans that were already out of date when I taught them. Quotations that were so dear to me but were meaningless to them. Mrs. Landers, I am a failure. I am an old relic that walks from class to class. Speaking by rote to unhearing ears, unwilling heads. I am an abject, dismal failure. I moved no one. I left no imprint on anyone. Now where do you suppose I got the idea that I was accomplishing anything?”

He then takes his leave of the room telling Mrs. Landers, “I will take that nap now. And I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you, putting off dinner like this.” As Mrs. Landers goes about straightening up the room she discovers that his gun is missing from its spot! Oh no, has he gone off to take that final nap?!

Fowler has wandered out into the winter exterior and he comes upon a bronze statue of educator Horace Mann. He brushes the snow off a plaque at the bottom. Listen closely to the sound of him brushing the snow off and you can tell that the plaque is made of plastic or wood courtesy of the set designers, and not stone. But the words on that plaque certainly carry the weight of stone: “Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity.” Fowler pulls the gun from his pocket and as he points it to his own head, he suddenly hears the school bell chiming. That’s odd. “Why would they ring now?” he wonders, “There’s no special assembly. There’s nothing of that sort.” He follows the sound all the way back to his classroom.

He takes his seat at his desk and then suddenly the spectres of some of his former students materialize in their seats and look up at the Professor. One of the boys stands up and approaches the professor’s desk. And he rips the Professor’s throat out with his clawed hands! No no no, I’m kidding. This is The Twilight Zone, not Tales From The Darkside! No, instead he very properly says, “Artie Beachcroft, sir. Second form. Class of ‘forty-one. How have you been. Professor?” The professor gets up and in amazement and delight and although convinced that it is Artie, wonders aloud how it’s possible. Artie tells him, ‘That’s right, sir. I was killed in Iwo Jima” and he pulls out his Congressional Medal of Honor. Artie would add later, “…it’s partly yours. You taught me about courage. You taught me what it meant.”

Then another boy rises and approaches: “I’m Bartlett; third form. Class of ‘twenty-eight. I died in Roanoke, Virginia. I was doing research on x-ray treatment for cancer, and was exposed to radioactivity. I contracted leukemia.” He tells the professor, “I kept remembering Professor…something you’d said to me. A quote. By a poet named Walter” and he recites from Howard Arnold Walter’s “I Would Be True”:

“I would be true, for there are those who trust me;
I would be pure, for there are those who care;
I would be strong, for there is much to suffer;
I would be brave, for there is much to dare.”

Young Bartlett thanks the Professor, “I never forgot that. Professor. It was something you left me. I never forgot.”

Professor Fowler spotted another boy he knew. “Dickie Weiss? You were the first one, Dick —”

“The first one to die” says Dickie, “Professor. I was at Pearl Harbor on the Arizona. I was an ensign.” Dickie had saved several navy men on that ship, freeing them from a boiler room where they were trapped, but he lost his life in doing so. “You were at my elbow that day, Professor. You may not have known it, but there you were. It was a poem you had taught me by John Donne.” He proceeds to recite the passage from “No Man Is an Island”:

“Any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind;
and therefore never send to know for
whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

Student after student rises up and reports to the Professor how they perished, but also about how the Professor taught them about courage, and patriotism, and loyalty, and honesty. (Interestingly, two of the boys cite being from the “class of 1917” and the “class of 1922” which is odd because didn’t Dickie Weiss say he was “The first one to die”? And that was at Pearl Harbor in 1941. But the boy, Rice, from the class of 1917 mentions he “died of wounds at Charteau Thierry” which was a 1918 World War I battle, many years before Pearl Harbor of course. Hmmmm. Perhaps chronology is nebulous in the afterlife…we already know it is in the Twilight Zone.

Before they all dematerialize, student Beachcroft delivers this episode’s special message: “We have to go back now, Professor. But we wanted to let you know that we were grateful; that we were forever grateful, that each of us has, in turn, carried with him something that you gave him. We wanted to thank you, Professor.”

Professor Fowler has been consoled. Once he is back home, Fowler stands at his open window listening to a group of Christmas carolers. Watching this image you can’t help but associate it with Ebeneezer Scrooge near the end of “A Christmas Carol” calling out his bedroom window to a boy on the street below asking him to fetch a Christmas Goose and bring it to the Cratchit household. Just as ghosts from Scrooge’s past cured him of his cynicism and orneriness, Fowler is also a reformed man, rescued from his despondency and self-pity by the benevolent ghosts of his own past. Something else about the image here may tickle you if you watch via the link below. When you watch this scene, the camera angles shot from inside the room clearly show Fowler with his glasses on, but in the reverse shots with the camera outside looking in toward the window at Fowler’s face from the front, we can clearly see that his glasses are not on. I can only hope there was no Changing of the Script Supervisor firing for this continuity gaffe.

CLOSING NARRATION:

Professor Ellis Fowler, teacher, who discovered rather belatedly something of his own value. A very small scholastic lesson, from the campus of the Twilight Zone.”

TRIVIA:

Donald Pleasence was only 42-years-old when he played this character who must have been what? At the very least 73? “51 years experience” we are told. Assuming he started at the very earliest age, when he was 22? So he must be 73, likely even late 70s. So kudos to William Tuttle who designed his makeup.

This episode was directed by Robert Ellis Miller who died January 27, 2017. Six years after directing this episode in 1962, he would be nominated for a Golden Globe for directing “The Heart is a Lonely Hunter.”

The producer of this episode Buck Houghton had never heard of Donald Pleasance beforehand. It was the casting director’s idea to cast him. Says Houghton: “Boy, damn the expense; we brought him from England. He was just wonderful in it. He’s a very nice man. I have a feeling it was his first time in this country professionally, and while he was a thoroughgoing professional with a huge experience in stage and everything else, he was a little apprehensive of this whole experience because he arrived on a given day and five days later it was all going to be over. So he had a lot to absorb. But Bob Miller is very together and gave him confidence and we were off and running.”

That quote from Horace Mann beneath his statue? “Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity”–it’s also the motto of Rod Serling’s college, Antioch. Horace Mann was the first president of Antioch, and he recited that quote at its first commencement. After Serling wrote this episode’s script he accepted a teaching post at Amish College.

This episode was the final The Twilight Zone episode in which at the conclusion the camera would make its trademark move, tilting upward as the set dissolved into a starlit sky.

Watch it for Free.

[si-contact-form form=’2′]