I don’t have the fond swirls of memory for the Night Gallery TV series as I do The Twilight Zone, but it does have its moments despite far greater interference from TV execs, and sadly lesser control from Serling himself.
For many years I’d put off reading Serling’s prose - despite being a huge admirer of his scripts - as I thought they were just rehashes of his screenplays quickly rattled off for a TV tie-in market. With one or two exceptions I was happy to discover this was not the case. In addition to his dialogue, the concise descriptive prose is exactly what you would expect from the clipped, straight talking host and scene-setter of Twilight Zone and Night Gallery. There are no wasted words.
Based on his Night Gallery scripts, the six stories range from the reasonable to the very good; there is nothing here that I disliked. For me though, you can split this book in half, with the final three stories being a notch up from the first three. The opening dialogue-laden story (‘The Sole Survivor’), is one of the very few prose stories from Serling which perhaps does feel like it could have been reeled off in a day by merely adding a few descriptive passages in between the dialogue of his original script. Nevertheless, I liked the story of an occupied lifeboat from the Titanic being discovered three years after its sinking. It’s just that given the nature of the idea and the setting, I can’t help thinking Serling missed an opportunity for a far more eerily descriptive story.
Bizarrely, the second story for me suffers from the opposite issue. ‘Make Me Laugh’ is that clichéd, rather poor story of someone being given a wish, but doesn’t think through the consequences. Here though, Serling takes much more time in creating his character (an unfunny, sad comedian), and setting the seedy scene. It’s a case of the writing being better than the story.
Third is ‘Pamela’s Voice.’ A man believes he has murdered his wife, and yet she speaks! It’s OK, but undoubtedly the weakest in this collection. It feels slight and fails to grab the attention. It’s a very R.Chetwynd-Hayes idea for a story, but Chetwynd-Hayes would have brought the extreme characters more to life in prose, and extracted more humour.
Things improve from now on.
‘Does The Name Grimsby Do Anything To You?’ is the only one of these written for Night Gallery, but not ultimately produced. The first man to walk on the moon starts behaving oddly on his return; especially on hearing the name Grimsby. This very Twilight Zone story is a good psychological tale of a man who likes to be first in things, but suffers as he convinces himself in his mind that he wasn’t in fact the first person to walk the moon.
The fifth story is my favourite here – ‘Clean Kills And Other Trophies.’ A bullying man, who likes to hunt, puts an obstacle in the way of his son’s trust fund. Again, it’s very Twilight Zone, with flashes of the bullying Mr Misrell from ‘A Stop At Willoughby appearing as the father figure here. Certainly not a quickly dashed off rehash of the script. This is very well written and an entertaining read.
Lastly we have what is probably the most highly regarded of Night Gallery’s episodes – ‘They’re Tearing Down Tim Riley’s Bar.’ Again, it’s very Twilight Zonish, and fits in thematically with two of that series’ best episodes – ‘Walking Distance’ and ‘A Stop At Willoughby.’ A man, seemingly washed-up in business, feels that he has been thrown onto the scrap heap; mirroring this is the fact that his favourite bar is being demolished. Powerful, and all very Rod Serling; except that is the very unusual sentimental ending, which doesn’t feel remotely Serling. Nevertheless, it’s another fine character study of the lost middle-aged man looking fondly back at his past; desperate at its loss, and desperate for its return. With the way things are, it’s a longing perhaps readily identified with in 2020!
Just listened to a long BBC radio profile of Serling which has reminded me that he was only fifty when he died, in 1975. So prolific, and yet so much probably still waiting to be said. Someone should have thrown a bucket of cold water over his head every time he lit up! (Though sixty buckets of cold water a day I guess would have just altered cause of death to pneumonia!). I read in a biography that Serling’s surgeon had never seen such arteries when trying to perform a bypass, simply falling apart when he was removing them from his leg to place into his chest. Also read something recently about Burt Lancaster. A fitness fanatic who was often in the gym, but undid all the good work when he'd finished by taking long puffs on a cigarette to wind down and relax...