Can The Twilight Zone dethrone Fantasia as the ultimate trip?

Up ahead, you see a signpost. You’ve gone back to a time when men wore three-piece suits and women were just their secretaries. You’ve entered The Twilight Zone.

The 1960 episode “Trouble With Templeton” tells the story of theatre actor Booth Templeton (Brian Aherne) who longs for days gone by when his wife Laura (Pippa Scott) was still alive and life was good, though perhaps his moustache was much less charming. There is trouble during a new production and soon after, as Rod Serling (your friendly neighbourhood narrator) says, Templeton enters The Twilight Zone. Mind melding ensues.

While over-dramatics in film and television during this time period can range from amusing to just plain annoying, this episode lands on the side of hilarity. Aherne wears his emotion on his face, with the camera often lingers there long enough for you to notice that his Clark Gable moustache is slightly uneven. While the story line is a bit ridiculous, Aherne's range of emotion makes Templeton a likeable character.

Scott, on the other hand, barely ever changes her facial expression except to emit a jarring hyena laugh, after which her face resumes its blank Flapper Barbie stare. Her spastic robot movements certainly don’t help her case either. This is an example of those annoying over-dramatics.

One of the best reasons to watch this episode is its authentically vintage atmosphere, as it’s a relic from the childhoods of baby boomers. The piano and string-filled theatre-like score and swinging '20s jazz combo perfectly complement their respective scenes, and everyone looks classically stylish in suits, hats, and straight-cut dresses.

A scene of particular note, for which director Buzz Kulik deserves major props, is one that mimics a stage production. It ends with the literal dimming of the lighting and all of the actors poised in tableau. These visual effects, combined with the music, are artfully self referrential in an episode about the theatre. However, there is something oddly unsettling about seeing these generally live elements on screen. Oh, and 10 points to anyone who can spot the guy who looks like Jack Layton in the bar before the fade-out.

While I would definitely recommend watching this episode, even if only for amusement’s sake, I must admit I was disappointed by how much the ending was spelled-out. Perhaps some ambiguity would have prevented the sense of mundane that often accompanies tidy conclusions on screen. I also would have liked to see Serling appear and disappear in a cheesy bright flash, I Dream of Jeannie style, just to add a little pizzazz. Although I suppose that would ruin the creepiness of the camera slowly panning to the left to reveal that Serling has been there all along.

The Modern Monstrous Feminine

For lovers and haters of Sex and the City.
Warning: You might pee your pants.

When Computers Ruled the Earth

I never want to see the day when it's possible for this conversation to take place.



Under the Northumberland Sun

While at work this afternoon, I finally made the call back to the old country to sort out my summer employment. This is something that brings me anxiety every spring and, like most things, I struggle between procrastinating as long as possible and getting it done as early as possible. We all know there is no magic employment tree -- jobs are limited, especially in small towns. I also struggle with where to work and what kind of work I want to do because I'm incredibly picky and like to get my way, which brings me to today's lesson:

Being an adult means putting on your big girl (or boy) underwear and sucking it up (in a strictly non-sexual context, barring certain career choices of course).

This is why I have opted for four months of farm labour back home rather than a job related to my chosen career (a concept that is rapidly turning into something distant and nebulous). Now, this is not on my family's farm, as that doesn't exist, but in the vineyards at the winery down the road from my house where I worked last summer as a Tasting Bar Rep and Server.  The bonus? Built in exercise and tan (after the inevitable burn peels off).  

So back to the sucking it up. My father has been telling me for years that I need to have what he so charmingly calls 'Fuck You money' saved up in case I'm fired, need to quit etc. so I'm going to slave in the dirt for now since unpaid internships may dominate my immediate post-grad period. If only I wanted to be an accountant. Or a plumber.