Michael Wright awakes to the sound of construction. His lovely wife June [1] looks at the clock and it is 11:37. Michael’s watch, however, says 7:05. Realizing he has suddenly gained four hours and thirty-two minutes, he starts making out with June. Her mind is probably on what she will do with her extra four hours and thirty minutes. This temporal fantasizing is cut short as she hears a noise downstairs.
Michael grabs a bat and they go down to investigate. In their living room, they see the blue man group working in their living room — men with blue featureless faces, blue skin and blue clothing. They are rolling up carpets and moving furniture. They are Borg-like, ignoring the Wrights until Michael swings the bat. One of them just takes it, silently tosses it aside and continues his work.
They decide to go to a neighbor’s house. Outside they see more blue men scurrying around, using blue tools and driving blue vans. Inside the neighbor’s house, the find a white dimensionless void. They wander downtown amid many more blue workers. They notice the clock on the bank also says 11:37. Luckily they run into a man in a yellow suit who seems to be the supervisor.
He explains that the couple have somehow stepped backstage in time to the minute 11:37. This is the place where the world of 11:37 is constructed. And on it goes with the expected beats . . . you can’t leave . . . will they get back . . . when the world catches up to 11:37, will they move along with it or be stuck in 11:37? There isn’t much of a story, no twist after the premise, and no arc to the characters. So why is it one of the best segments yet?
It begins with a solid foundation — exploring the nature of time. That is an immediately intriguing subject, especially to anyone who is watching The Twilight Zone. I’m not sure even this incarnation of TZ is up to the task screwing up that subject.
They take that general topic and specifically explore the nature of reality, and how it is created one minute at a time. It would be the worst kind of quibbling to suggest that a minute would be an eternity in this context.
Visually this is the most startling episode of the series so far and must rank high up for TV of any era. The faceless blue men stand out in contrast to the reality they are constructing whether it is inside the house or downtown. Outfitting them in red would have been too flashy; the cool blue is the perfect choice for these drones going quietly about their work.
They must have also burned through a lot of the season’s budget for this episode. In addition to the workers — and there seem to be many — their tools are also the same color blue. And this includes everything from a wrench to a wheel-barrow to the vehicles. It is always perfectly clear who it is that does not belong and what they are doing (even if it is actually the Wrights that don’t belong).
Lastly, the performances are consistently interesting. Of course, the blue men are silent and stoic going about their jobs. Adam Arkin (Michael) is always an interesting choice. Karen Austin wasn’t given much to do, but is perfectly fine. The stand-out is Adolph Caesar as the yellow-suited supervisor. He has most of the dialog and exposition, and pulls it off flawlessly. Given a brief running time, he does as well as possible grounding the episode, explaining the situation, and breaking the news that the Wrights can’t go back.
OK, this isn’t like forgetting to take off your watch for a battle scene in Braveheart. How could this guy forget a mask that turns everything blue, and how could no one else have noticed it?
I would generally not care for a segment that didn’t do more with its basic premise [2]. However, A Matter of Minutes does everything else so well, that it is a complete success.
Great stuff.
Post-Post:
- [1] Karen Austin with a sultry sexy southern accent that I don’t remember her having on Night Court.
- [2] Of course, being based on a story by a guy who wrote about a killer bulldozer, what did I expect?
- With a point in time being constructed, this is the anti-Langoliers.
Toby Michaels and his Dad are horsing around with horror masks and toy ray guns. Toby shouts, “
he is a monster, specifically a Vampire-American. Toby protests that that can’t be true or he would be burning up in the sunlight. So clearly Toby was lying earlier when he bragged about reading 
Riegert wrestling with a young boy in 
He explains to Toby that a vampire must stay on the move. If he stays in one place too long, the real monsters come out. The sneezes are just a symptom of a recessive human survival trait. When they are near vampires, they turn into monsters and kill the vampire in their midst. Later that night, Bendictson leaves his door open and allows himself to be taken.
In the alley at 300 Lincoln Place, a fight is taking place. All we see are 
After Cox leaves, Reynolds asks Avery if he purposely scheduled that seminar so Reynolds would have an alibi. Reynolds had earlier told Avery about Munson’s blackmail scheme. Avery counters that he could not possibly have strangled Munson because “Munson was a giant.”
Avery cautions that the serum must remain secret. Reynolds agrees that “It could upset a lot of things. Make a champion out of a mid-class pug, put a claiming horse [?] in the winners circle at the Kentucky Derby.” So far, I’m only seeing how it would be dangerous to bookies.
Cowboy Jake Miller is having a crisis of conscience — he can’t remember the faces of any of the eight men he has killed. His brother Ben rightly reminds him that even if he could remember their faces, they’d still be dead. Nearby, a preacher is having a bigger crisis as an alien materializes and possesses his body.
Frank & JD go to the saddle boutique. The possessed Preacher strolls by and gives them a demonstration. Light shoots out of his eyes and he makes a horse disappear. He offers to give them the same power. Frank tests it out by making a wagon wheel disappear. With this amazing new talent, the best the can think to do is kill the storekeeper and steal a couple of saddles and horses.
Jake & Ben see Frank & JD at the cemetery. Frank says, “Let’s get going.” Ben stops them after a few steps and says, “Hold up, this is it.” They all start digging and unearth a steel box. Frank uses his superpowers to enable him and JD to steal the loot. OK, so Frank & JD didn’t get mad that the money had been moved; or that they dug a huge back-breaking hole for nothing. Maybe they were playing it cool until Jake & Ben took them to the real burial space. That kind of calm strategic long-game doesn’t seem like a good fit for Frank, though.
Jake & Ben point their pistols at Frank, but he just makes them disappear. When Ben rushes him, he strangles him, with sparks flying from his hands. After Frank & JD take off with the loot, the Preacher happens by. He gives Jake & Ben the same power.
The Preacher explains he is from another planet. This was all a test from yet another condescending alien species. Jake gets on his horse and inexplicably rides off leaving Miriam, the only other survivor, behind. Well, she did kill his brother which could make Thanksgiving awkward, but he really had it coming. But again, the motivation escapes me. I like that she is left stunned, staring at the sky, but why is she alone?
The next morning, still wearing the same double-breasted suit — that’s reason enough to break up with a dude right there — Shephard goes in search of Ellie. He goes to her hair salon and starts flipping up hair dryers in search of her. He is man-handled, tossed out and given such a slap by the fabulous owner [1] of the salon. That’s not a story I’d tell down at the VFW Hall. The dog witnesses the whole scene.
Carl comes home from New York to find his home has been wrecked. I still can’t figure out what the point of this is. Carl is understandably peeved, but Shephard tells him not to be angry. Just to be safe, the dog kills him.
I was highly critical of Michael O’Keefe’s (Shepard) performance for most of the episode. He was never much of an actor, but here he just seemed all over the board. The revelation that he was nuts helped explain away some of that; many of his mannerisms are meant to imitate a dog. The basics of the story were great. I just wish I understood the sex doll, the sofa fort, the destruction of Carl’s house, and the symbolism of wearing the same suit day after day. I guess the destruction is what you would expect from a dog. Maybe the suit was like the dog’s fur — he can’t change it.