As I’m watching this on YouTube, I am distracted by the other videos listed off to the side. It’s like how you think “Look what he’s having” as the waitress carries a tray to a nearby guy with a really cute date. I see Cold Equations — a sci-fi classic. Nightcrawlers — a great episode already viewed. Escape Clause from the original series. And here I sit with . . . what? I was going to name some mundane Chinese dish, but all of them I thought of seemed pretty tasty now that I think of them. Plus, racist.
Or maybe that’s appropriate. The only blatantly Asian name in the TZ cast & crew — William F. Wu — just happens to write the episode about Mr. Wong? Hu knows, maybe he sought them out. Write what you know, they say. But this was season one and they never brought him back. It just smacks of Tales From the Crypt’s infamous African-American episode.
David Wong enters a San Francisco porn shop seeking the titular Lost and Found Emporium. Since the title is Wong’s Lost and Found Emporium, I bet he finds it. The clerk [1] is pretty slippery — more slippery than the floor of his shop, I imagine. He says sometimes the emporium is there and sometimes it is not. He suggests Wong try in the rear, as he does with many customers.
Wong sees two doors in the back of the store. One opens into a rat-infested alley. The other opens into a space where the alley should be, but actually leads into a large storeroom. Which, I guess makes sense, as it is a room in a store. He enters and inexplicably closes the door behind him. The door then disappears from the wall.
As he is searching for a clerk, Wong sees another magical door appear. It opens and he correctly guesses that it is sunny Fort Lauderdale outside. A Springbreaker walks in, although sadly from Spring of 1936. She says she is searching for lost time. She became an artist late in life but confesses she didn’t have the patience or discipline to stick with it. I would think those were actually virtues more likely in an older person, but I ain’t no artist.
As Wong is whining — and he really is obnoxious — about how long it took him to find this place, he spots a floating orb behind the woman. They follow it until it settles on a box of white mice. There is an instruction card which says to stroke the mice until calm, at least five minutes. The woman places the box on the floor, but the mice scamper away on little cat’s-dinner feet before she can find relief. She is distraught as she has lost her last chance at happiness. “Well, those are the breaks,” Wong says to the heart-broken old woman.
Wong soon encounters a man wandering through the aisles. He has been a self-absorbed jerk up, but he’s really started getting to me now. He is just pointlessly belligerent and sneering at the man. “Tell me something, Pops. You lose anything valuable? Lost hope? Lost dreams? Lost love?” The old man speaks of losing the respect of his children. Wong sympathetically responds, “If I hear one more sob story, I’m going to puke.”
He sees another orb, though, and follows it to a mirror. The instructions tell the man to stare into the mirror for five and a half minutes. The mirror shows him as a monster, so he shatters it, squandering any future reconciliation with his children. On the plus side, he did give Wong a good laugh.
Wong next meets a young woman. He explains his bad attitude by saying what he lost and what he seeks is his compassion. What really pushed him over the edge was the murder of Vincent Chin. He tells the tragic real-life story of Chin who was murdered by two idiots in Detroit. Despite being Chinese, they mistook Chin for being Japanese and blamed him for the collapse of the US auto industry. [2] They beat him to death with a baseball bat and were given probation for their actions. She agrees to help him find his compassion in exchange for him helping her to find an item to be named later.

Oh yeah, this disembodied head shows signs of life a couple of times. I have no idea why.
He sees her orb descends on a canister. The instructions tell her to inhale for five seconds. She does so, and the magic seems to work for a change. She bursts out laughing, so I guess she had lost her sense of humor; or just noticed Wong’s haircut.
She sees Wong’s orb and they follow it to three bottles, one of which contains his compassion. Yada yada, Wong screws up the test tube that contains his compassion, and just uses the bottles that contain his integrity and childhood memories. The woman assures him he will still regain his compassion because that comes with integrity. Not sure I go along with that. Integrity is being honest and living by solid principals. Ayn Rand novels are full of such people, but I must have missed the chapters describing their compassion.
Wong becomes compassionate enough to stay on at the store as the new manager. The woman decides to stay on with him. She hangs a sign on the door which says “Under New Management, Wong’s Lost and Found Emporium” — an ending efficiently spoiled by the episode’s title.
Again with the kindler, gentler Twilight Zone. In this 1980’s series, To Serve Man really would be a book about curing diseases, ending poverty and driving people to the airport. Still not what I’m looking for from TZ. I’m starting to think I’m looking in the wrong place.
Post-Post:
- [1] The porn clerk is such a doppelganger for Best-of-Show-era Christopher Guest that it is distracting.
- [2] Maybe they also mistook him for Roger Smith.
- [2] I guess it would be churlish of me to point out the producers apparently also think Asians are interchangeable as they cast an actor of Japanese heritage to play a man named Wong — typically a Chinese name. But it’s OK when our moral superiors in Hollywood do it.
- Also, one incident that led to Wong losing his compassion was the reaction of some bigots when he was out with a Caucasian woman. I notice the producers were careful to have him end up with an Asian woman in the episode, though. But it’s OK when our moral superiors in Hollywood do it.
- Brian Tochi (Wong) was one of those punks on Triacus.
- TZ Legacy: None except to make me long for a cruel, ironic twist of fate.
In the 1962 Twilight Zone episode
The introduction of Maddie (Helen Mirren) is creatively shot from the knee down as she awkwardly makes her way to work. Framed from the hem of her drab dress to her sensible shoes, she is constantly in the way, startled, apologizing, stumbling. Her job at the thrift shop is no less nerve-wracking as she is forced to wait on two obnoxious teenage girls. Then an Elvissy jerk with huge hair, massive sideburns, and several buttons open on his shirt crudely hits on her.
Susan calls Kyle at his law office. He threatens to sue this person with the poor taste to imitate his wife. Then she mentions how Kyle killed her. He rushes home and we are treated to an outstanding an shot from the second floor — Kyle walks in the front door, the camera pans past Inez cleaning the 2nd-floor bedroom, and continues to shoot over a balcony overlooking the living room where Kyle confronts Susan.
As mentioned, Helen Mirren is just great here. Theresa Saldana is not given much to do, but is a fine presence. The only weaknesses are a melodramatic score and Tambor’s performance. His leaden line readings combined with that absurd beard work against every scene he is in. Nevertheless, I was wrong to assume this would be a watered down rip-off of the original episode. It might be the 2nd best segment so far.
After a lesson on sound waves from host Truman Bradley, we cut to a maid vacuuming on the top floor of the King Tower Office Building. She is startled when a flock of migratory birds crash through the window. Truman tells us the birds were “victims of progress. If men didn’t build skyscrapers, then birds wouldn’t get confused and fly into them.” More accurately, they were victims of having a brain the size of a pea.
That evening at 2 am, the signal begins again. Milton coordinates with every telescope in the US. Unfortunately, they find nothing and give up around 5 am when women in the neighboring high-rises lower their shades.
After the discussing the doomsday scenarios of commies dropping A-bombs and H-bombs on us, they cut to the source of the transmissions — a toy factory. Had they they shown some remote control gizmo and ended episode right there, I would have been surprised and amused. It would have also bred some suspense as no one would suspect the toys and they would go merrily on endangering the country. I’ll say this for
Howie Mandel is mentally challenged.
The three personalities fight to be in control. The wildcard is Talbot who is understandably peeved at being killed. He does, however, see this as an opportunity to commit crimes that will be blamed on Karl. Well, whose body does he think will go to jail? What is he, retar . . . oh wait.

A beautiful woman named Sita Vernoy died in August 1927 in Delhi. A beautiful baby girl named Santha Naidu was born in August 1928. In between, a pretty un-noteworthy 12 months for beautiful people.
Santha shows up at casa de Vernoy and tells Krishna she is his mother. She throws her arms around Armand and claims to be his wife. Under-standably, Krishna does not accept this woman his same age to be his mother. Not so understandably, Armand does not accept this woman 40 years younger than him to be his wife. Dude!
Title Analysis: Better than the episode. The “return” is her rebirth, her return to Armand, and stretchingly her return to Delhi.