I try to never pre-judge, but this title does not bode well for a series that too often forgets its sci-fi / horror roots and wallows in sentimentality.
Meet Tanner Smith, circa 1916. Disciple of Jack London, Tanner Smith now consigned to what is affectionately known by the Bowery Boys as The Ref [1]. A grim sojourn into solitude, despair, pain and sooner than he knows, a curious corner in the Twilight Zone.
OK, they get me excited with that pain & despair talk, but Charles Aidman’s raspy avuncular voice mitigates the dread as usual.
Tanner goes into the barn where the headmaster’s daughter Amy Hawkline is doing whatever it is that you do to horses. He gives her a line that never works for me, “I’ve been watching you.” Possibly his success is due to him not having a Nikon with a 400mm lens slung over his shoulder.
They discover a mutual interest in reading, and the library. Tanner especially likes books about wolves. She is afraid of her father catching them, so Tanner leaves. They meet up that night in the barn. Amy brings him another Jack London book about wolves. Fearing the evening is veering off course, he blurts out, “A wolf mates for life, Amy. Did you know that? For all his life.” He is on thin ice, however, when he continues, “and lady wolves don’t make the guys wear sheep’s intestines on their John Thomas!” He has also brought her a gift, a cameo necklace. As they finally get down to a literal roll in the hay, the Headmaster discovers them and beats Tanner half to death.
Amy says she hates her father and he belts her. If he catches them together again, he’ll “see that he is found dead in some dark hallway.” Town drunk Hoakie overhears this and goes to Amy’s room. He says he won’t let them get hurt. Amy says, “You? You’re just a broken down old bum — what could you do?” Hoagie tells her to go f*** herself. No wait, that’s what I would have said.

Acting!
Amy decides the only way they can escape is through the front door or during the ample time they spend outside. No wait, it is through a mystical old book. By staring at the horizontal markings, you will begin to drift off, just like when reading Pilgrim’s Progress. “Then you pass right through it,” she says. “But to where, Amy? Where?” Tanner asks, in one of acting’s all-time worst line readings.[2] “A better world,” she says. “A free world.”
After Tanner is scared away by one of the Headmaster’s goons, Amy gives it a try. She stares at the lines until she is briefly transported to another world. Headmaster Hawkline catches her having incorrect thoughts and takes the book away. A man ahead of his time, like college presidents a hundred years later, Hawkline decides ideas he doesn’t agree with must be suppressed. Well, he actually tosses the pages into the fire, but that’s coming in our century too, I tells ya.

I cropped this picture. The shots of the wolves are stunningly poorly composed. Maybe it is just stock footage. Call Nat Geo next time, for cryin’ out loud.
Amy kills herself, or at least appears to have. Tanner blames Hawkline and tries to brain him with his own cane, but the old man fights him off. His goons throw Tanner into the basement.[3] Later, Hawkline takes a pistol downstairs to kill Tanner. Hoagie has sneaked Tanner the page from the book. He disappears into the page just as Amy did.
The final shots are of two white wolves running free in a younger world. One of them is wearing the cameo. I hope Tanner and Amy like running down small animals and eating them raw. And shivering outside during the winter without the glow of blazing books to warm them. Are they still human souls? Do they each really want to have the sex with another animal now? Although Tanner did find a loophole in that sheep’s intestine thing. Well played, old boy. Well played.
So, I was completely off-base on the title (see below). The actor playing Tanner is just dreadful. Roberts Blossom takes a break from playing likable old coots to be an effectively sadistic headmaster (well, he did play the Devil in Burning Man and that serial killer in Home Alone). Jennifer Rubin is fine as Amy, but those shots of her gazing banjo-eyed into the portal are a hoot. The score was a little over the top at times, but better than usual.
Overall, a pretty good TZ. But it would have made a better Night Gallery.
Other Stuff:
- [1] House of Refuge, Reformatory for Wayward Boys.
- [2] To be fair, it is a brutal line to say. Maybe only William Shatner could have pulled it off. No, seriously.
- [3] They put him into what I assume was a straight-jacket of the time. But it really looks like they sewed him into a giant stripper’s thigh-high boot.
- If I were smart, I would have recognized Song of the Younger World as a line from Call of the Wild. Song of the Undiscovered Country — that I would have gotten. But only after Star Trek VI came out.
- Noel Black also directed the great To See the Invisible Man, and the even greater Private School.
“Spectroscopic readings indicate that the atmosphere is in perfect chemical equilibrium.” OK, what but do these figures mean? They can’t be percentages because they don’t add up to 100%. Whatever they are, Carbon Dioxide seems to be winning in a rout. Sensors show no life, not even “simple amino acids in the oceans.”

Knowles goes back to the building and shouts to the souls, “You cowards! Show yourselves!” They reappear, and the leader explains. They can’t travel in space in this form. But if they can possess the crew as he did with Knowles, they might be able to make the journey. He admits he doesn’t know what would happen to the crew’s bodies as a result of this prolonged possession. Oh the irony, of using them up like they did to the Earth and casting them aside.
Well, the episode gets right to business; I’ll give it that. Mono-monikered Broadway composer Bluestone is pounding out a new tune on the piano in his swanky Manhattan condo when a man appears. He says, “Who the hell are you, and how did you get in here?” The man compliments the tune, but says Bluestone will never get a chance to see it performed. Bluestone steps through the piano and is horrified to see his body in a sweater-vest; also, because it is on the floor dead.
Bluestone is greeted by his original moniker Binky Blaustein as he enters the party of high schoolers. He realizes that his memories of Mary Ellen are warped, that she is “just a kid”. He spots another girl, the titular Teresa Golowitz. The Devil has now possessed the body of Laura — Gina Gershon, who frankly blows every other girl at this hootenanny off the screen. Binky admits he never paid much attention to Teresa because she was too plain. The Devil reminds Binky that Teresa committed suicide the night of this party. He tells Binky the whole sad story, then says, “Excuse me. Laura has to go to the little girl’s room.” What? Ewwwww . . . That’s creepy even for the devil.
Despite having no physical resemblance to Bluestone, Grant Heslov is excellent as Binky. I didn’t really associate him with the older character, but I completely bought him as a character older and more mature than his physical appearance. Gene Barry as the Devil seemed to play his role a little effeminate for reasons that elude me. The other performances were unexceptional; except Gina Gershon who was exceptional.
Sally Dobbs and her daughter Deidre are lugging luggage out to the car. The men-folk — Harry and his young son Jason — are downstairs practicing on the family pistol range. Sally calls Harry on an intercom to send Jason up. He tells her to send down another beer . . . his third . . . to the pistol range.
Harry’s pal Nick stops by. He mentions the news saying things are heating up in the Middle East. Wow, so that area was a powder keg even 30 whole years ago! [1] A 1980s linebacker-shouldered, big-haired reporterette says the President and First Lady have been taken to a secure location. Nick says Harry is right that “the whole world is going straight down the toilet.” Harry says we’re already there, “drugs, terrorism, pornography!” He thinks a bomb would set a lot of things right again. He says he and Nick don’t belong in a world of degenerate rock stars, hair-dressers and bureaucrats. He dreams of raising his son in a world with “all the scum burned off.” Uh, dude, you do remember Nick is not on the guest-list, right? Awkward!
While demonstrating his antenna system, they see a news report that all hell is breaking loose. Harry calls Sally and tells her to come back immediately. Her sister calls him Godzilla, and Sally mocks him before hanging up. Then the big one hits. Harry and Nick are in the shelter, but the antenna has been destroyed so they have no contact with the outside. Nick wants to leave to find his parents, but Harry physically restrains him and shows him the lethal radiation level, saving his life. Yeah, Harry is practically Hitler.
What happens next is a cheat, but like so much of Joy Ride, it is a good enough episode that I can overlook the flaws. It turns out, the blast was not global Armageddon, but an oopsy at the local Air Force Base. Somehow, within 10 months, the debris has been cleaned up, the radiation is gone, and parks are green, leafy and sunny, and the Women’s Olympic volleyball team practices there. All of the radioactive ruins have been bull-dozed into a heap, and a giant concrete dome built over them. It’s not quite as 
The gang does not recognize the street they are on. Then, they notice all of the cars are ’57 Chevys, although of various years, makes and models. Alonzo tells Adrienne to get him a cigarette from the glove box.[2] She asks how he knew they would be in there. Greg tells him to pull over because “Something weird’s going on.” Just then a police car pulls up behind them.
I am just baffled by much of the editing in this episode. It is seems likely that this was a much longer segment which had to be edited down for time. That would explain Charlie Taylor non-sequitur, and the mysterious identity of the cop shooting at them. However, this last scene is inexplicable. Alonzo’s struggle to open Adrienne’s door seems to have some significance, but what? Whether he was Alonzo or possessed by Charlie, I think both know how to operate a door. Besides, a) Alonzo would not ditch his wounded girlfriend, b) Charlie would know how to operate his own car. Here are the shots that baffle me:
The fireman is able to pull Alonzo completely out of the car. Not having an attorney present, he blurts out, “I killed a cop! With this gun!” The cop examines the gun and says it has not been fired in 30 years. Greg tells Alonzo, “It was old man Taylor. After all these years, he was trying to confess. I guess this was his way.” Confess to what? It sounds like the cops already knew he had killed the cop; OK, technically, they knew his car was involved. And how exactly was a confession being communicated in this scenario? Cue the — as usual on TZ — entirely incongruous music that sounds like the closing theme to a 1980s sit-com. I’m surprised they didn’t have the kids jump into the air and freeze the frame.