We really got spoiled last time around, didn’t we?
Fans of the Syfy Channel’s New Year’s Twilight Zone marathon were used to getting a solid two and a half days of the classic show — a random mix of about 87 episodes. But we got to ring in 2016 with all 156 of them, shown in high-definition and in their original broadcast order.
Alas, Syfy won’t be doing that again for 2017. But it’s still a longer marathon than we’ve come to expect: 120 episodes. And no more breaks for wrestling or other “paid programming” to interrupt the fifth-dimensional flow.
Sure, I have some misgivings about the marathon, as I explain here. I don’t like the ads, and I *really* don’t like the way they’ve edited many of the episodes to accommodate those ads. For the best TZ experience, I strongly recommend watching it on Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime, or iTunes. Better yet, buy or borrow it on DVD or Blu-ray. Read the rest of this entry
Henry Bemis and his all-too-breakable eyeglasses? Check. Talky Tina? She was there. Agnes Moorehead, battling two tiny aliens who crash-land on her roof? Front and center. A gremlin on an airplane wing? He flew in just for the occasion.
Yes, the roster of fifth-dimension All-Stars was long at the Syfy channel’s annual two-day Twilight Zone marathon this New Year’s. From the tension-filled houses on Maple Street to the lush cornfields of Peaksville, Ohio, hardly anyone missed the festivities.
But although the schedule was packed with fan favorites, a few gems were conspicuously absent. We all would have been better served if replacements for clunkers such as “What’s in the Box” and “Caesar and Me” had been pulled from the following list:
Season 1, Episode 21 – February 26, 1960
Parallel planes. Disappearing doppelgängers. It’s a metaphysical mind-trip of the first order, one that definitely deserved a spot on Syfy’s schedule. I’m blaming Vera Miles’s wily twin for making this classic vanish from the marathon. Read the rest of this entry
I have news for you, ladies and gentlemen. I have discovered that … people are alike all over.
Fortunately, I’m not saying that from behind the bars of an interplanetary zoo. No, the resemblance I’m referring to is much more benign than a penchant for treating other races as if they were a species to be gawked at.
I’m talking about a love for the works of Rod Serling, and more specifically, his landmark TV series, The Twilight Zone. It’s been exactly three years since I began hosting the Night Gallery Twitter page, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last 1,096 days, it’s that you can find Serling fans everywhere.
Men and women, adults and children, from every race, creed and color you can imagine. People from every spot on the political and religious spectrums. Individuals who would never talk to each other in “real life” follow this page, united in a love for the work of one of the 20th century’s most beloved writers. Read the rest of this entry
For many people, the SyFy channel’s annual July 4 Twilight Zone marathon is a summer tradition. They binge on their fifth-dimension favorites, enjoy a cookout, and watch fireworks. Having been tagged in quite a few tweets by excited fans, I know firsthand how much people look forward to it.
The same dynamic plays out on an even larger scale when SyFy shows a longer TZ marathon over New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Everyone, it seems, becomes a kid again as they watch episodes that somehow seem as fresh today as they were 50 years ago.
So I was surprised to read the article “We Come to Bury the Fourth of July TV Marathon” by Gilbert Cruz, which appeared on Vulture.com. It begins:
Cast your mind, if you can, back to a time before streaming. To the time in which most popular movies and TV shows weren’t readily available on Netflix or Hulu Plus or iTunes or Amazon Prime or any of the other myriad Internet-based services that populate your Xboxes and Blu-Ray players and Apple TVs and Roku boxes. To the time of the holiday TV marathon, a tradition that all this streaming has effectively killed.
Killed? More than a few TZ fans would beg to differ, myself included. But before you assume this sentiment is based more on nostalgia than reality (a tricky concept when it comes to the Serling-verse, we can all agree), let me explain why I think Mr. Cruz’s analysis at least partly misses the mark. Read the rest of this entry