“We don’t know where we are. We don’t know who we are. We all just woke up in the darkness one morning.”
Director: Lamont Johnson
Writer: Rod Serling
Composer: Stock music
This episode was one of the first that really proved how effective a good twist could be for The Twilight Zone. It also shows how good an episode can be with not only a minimalist setting, but also how strong it can be without a twist ending. The ending makes it a very powerful, strong episode, but everything leading up to it is a profoundly entertaining, unforgettable mystery.
“Five Characters In Search of an Exit,” based on the short story “The Depository” by Marvin Petal, opens with an Army Major waking up in a giant metal place, with his only company being a Clown, Ballerina, Hobo, and Bagpiper. None of them have any memory of who they are or how they got there, nor have any of them any idea where exactly they are or why they are there. Many ideas are thrown around as to where they are before the Army Major spurs them into trying an escape, at last trying to solve the riddle that lingers over all of them.
In most episodes like this, the bulk of the impact comes from the performances from the individual players. As this is an episode of only five characters, one would think that the viewer would get enough information based on that performance to assess their roles, and while that is true, this episode has the crippling weakness of not having any backstory for these characters. They’re essentially a series of tropes, some a bit more offensive than others, but that all make sense when one thinks about it, and each one of these characters helps push the plot along in a decent way.
The mystery stays with the viewer up the very moment that it’s revealed where the characters are and what they’re doing there, and it only gets stronger the moment the Army Major, our hero, wakes up in the place. Details about the place are revealed fast through action: it’s metal, has no trap doors and is incredibly high. There’s also this annoying banging sound that resounds every so often, like that of a bell, as the Ballerina points out. From there, the viewer knows as much as the audience does.
Thus, the characters have to interact and make assumptions for where they are, and this is where their characters come to life. While the hobo is the one that is the most dejected, he’s also quite profound. The Army Major is trying to think of things practically, logically, and like a problem-solver. The clown is nonchalant about the whole thing, just wishing he could get out. The Ballerina and the Bagpiper aren’t really sure about the whole thing but aren’t aloof to the situation; they just keep their mind occupied with other things, like playing music and dancing.
The Bagpiper and Hobo get the short end of the stick in terms of character. It’s difficult to remember specific lines that the Bagpiper even has, while the Hobo at least has a few good lines of ominous dialogue.
The Ballerina, unfortunately, falls under the umbrella of “airheaded female character” that was around in the 1960s. The Twilight Zone may have been a groundbreaking show in terms of melding science fiction with biting social commentary, but there are select episodes where women get to take the spotlight and have a decent role. The Ballerina does have a good role in the episode of keeping the Major’s spirits up, and Susan Harrison is likely doing a good job given the direction that Johnson gave her, but she isn’t all that important to the story. Plus there are a few times where her line reads are nearly laughable in how corny they are.
The two stars of the show, from the get-go, are the Major, played by William Windom, and the Clown, played by Murray Matheson. As mentioned earlier, the Major is the hero of the story, the one who takes the most action and is always thinking on his feet, doing his best to just get out. Windom plays the role well, as a man filled with vigor and persistence, someone who isn’t willing to give up. He’s playing the role of a good soldier, which was what the episode required and is true to the archetype handed to him.
But it’s Matheson’s Clown who is the scene stealer. He’s got the most unique getup, as a clown, and easily has the best lines. He has a good quip for everything, constantly making a joke or observation that’s either astute or just downright silly. One of the most memorable parts of the episode is when the Major is banging the hilt of his sword against the wall and the Clown starts singing to the beat of the banging. “We’re here because we’re here because…” The two just had such good chemistry and forge a quick alliance of similar motivations but dissimilar means of actually doing it…that being the Major actually wants to escape and the Clown does but doesn’t really care for it in the grand scheme of things.
There are some parts of the episode that are still a bit dated, though, like when they’re all standing on each other’s shoulders but they are so clearly just laying down and pretending to struggle. Also, again, some light tones of sexism, but that was just part of the times, I guess. And they don’t completely overdo it.
“Five Characters in Search of an Exit” isn’t an episode to miss. It’s a simple premise with a simple mystery: how are these people here, and how do they get out? And it executes on this idea brilliantly and the twist is one you won’t soon forget.
***SPOILER SECTION***
So I have to wonder how much of this episode inspired the idea for Toy Story back in the day. It also makes you wonder what this episode would have looked like if they were to actually use the dolls seen at the end of the episode as the characters throughout, with the actors providing voiceover. Probably wouldn’t look too good.
I’ve never really caught Serling’s closing narration as being so powerful, nor did I ever actually pick up on the fact that the Ballerina’s arm moves to comfort a disgruntled Major after his mission failed. You have to wonder what that conversation was like when he was placed back in the chamber: what did he tell them, did he even see anything, would he be able to properly convey what he saw?
It’s also interesting because it proves that the dolls are indeed alive. They have hearts and souls just like any other living entity; this episode predates The Living Doll in that regard, though one could argue that more emphasis was placed on these characters than the bundle of joy that is Talkie Tina. Though in both instances, the dolls were capable of feeling pain and emotion, which is interesting.
But yeah, the Toy Story thing. It mostly relates to the closing narration, wherein Serling discusses how lonely these dolls are right now, but how hopefully a group of children will one day come around to play with them, and love them endlessly. It’s an oddly bittersweet ending that leaves us with a glimmer of hope upon the horizon for these five characters trapped in what, to them, seems like an eternity in hell.
It’s also a good story about how unity and friendship, temporary and flimsy as it may be, can inspire hope in total strangers. Without the Major uniting them all together, it would have been impossible for any one of them to escape. This episode may seem a bit heartless, but a bit of reflection shows that it has a ton of depth to its message.
A little while back we saw William Shatner starring in an episode where he came face-to-face with a monster, but this time, we’ll examine how Shatner handles it when he becomes a monster, and how he handles himself in his first visit to The Twilight Zone in “Nick of Time.” See you then!
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