A Stop At Willoughby

"That’s right, Sir. Willoughby. July. Peaceful. Where a man can slow down to a walk, and live his life full-measure…"

A Stop At Willoughby is the 30th episode of the Twilight Zone, and one of my absolute favorites. Not surprisingly, it was also Rod Serling’s favorite, and it’s easy to see why. Although it’s telling a story (and a very good one), it’s actually incredibly intimate, and brave in that regard. When the protagonist speaks and confesses his insecurities, all I can hear is the writer behind him…and while such ‘writing myself into the story’ tactics usually annoy me to tears (particularly in anime, when nerds try to write themselves in as secret badasses), sometimes it’s just perfect– and when it happens, it soars high above any story that dares stand near it. Authenticity is what it is, I think. Shamelessness. Knowing one’s self, without being obsessed with one’s self.

It’s a story about a sensitive man who built his life listening to all the wrong people. Not the type of ‘wrong’ that you’d think, though. The type of wrong that is specifically wrong for him, which just so happens to be the same type of wrong for me, and is probably the cement in the foundation of my love for the episode. This "wrong" that I speak of, you all know very well. In fact, you’ve been taught that it’s actually right…and for the bulk of the people in the States, at least, it certainly is– hunger, drive, ambition, material gain, status improvement, push, push, push! It’s what I like to call the "SJ-way," and it dominates American culture as the ideal standard. Go to school, go to more school, get a job for a giant corporation working in a cubicle, get married, buy a house, make enough money as you possibly can, work, work, work, work– die. The end. Some people, and they are actually a minority, are not into life for self improvement, or status enhancement, or arterial gain. Serling was one of these, as am I, as is the main character in the story. Ah yes, the story…

As I was saying, it’s a story about a man who built his life listening to all the wrong people. He has a job as an executive in an advertising agency, a beautiful wife, and a lovely home– but he hates it all. Is trapped by it, in fact. During a particularly terrible day at work, he tells his nagging boss to shut up, and flees…hopping on the train for home. As the train rattles down the tracks, he gazes out at the snowy November darkness and has a quick word with the conductor as he stops to punch his ticket.

"Quite the storm out there, isn’t it? Seems to be getting darker earlier than usual this year."
"Well, that’s the way of the world. The rich get richer, and the days get shorter…"

Afterwards, he closes the blind on his window and drifts off to sleep. He wakes to find himself as the only passenger on a much older train, one that has stopped. A much older conductor strolls the isles, shouting "This is Willoughby! This stop is Willoughby!" Our protagonist opens his blind on the window and is baffled by what he sees; summer, 1800s. A gazebo with ladies sitting in it. Two boys in overalls walking past with fishing poles. A man on a bicycle. Moments later, he wakes up, back on the same train he started.

When he gets home, he pours himself a drink and has a talk with his wife. A woman "with an appetite," as he says. Their relationship is interesting, and feels very natural. There is love there, but it’s wrong….or off…not quite right. She is very much one of the ‘wrong’ types of people…not wrong in general, but simply wrong for him. It was her hunger for success that pushed him into the job he is in now. She doesn’t hate him, and he doesn’t hate her, but neither are happy, and they both know it. He tells her about the dream he had, and it’s here that you can see Rod Serling shining through his own character. Willoughby is his paradise– his own idealistic setting; a phantom of summer in the middle of winter; a place out of a painting where everyone knows your name…peaceful, as the conductor told him on his first stop, where a man can live his life full measure. His wife scoffs at his dream– her concerns lying only in the material world, and the man returns to work the next day, and again has the same dream. This time, he almost gets off…gets as far as the door before the train starts to move again. He calls to the conductor, but he’s too far away, and in a moment he’s awake again. Back in the hell that is reality. Oh what a dismal feeling that is, waking from a good dream…one we all know well, I think.

His last day at work sends him over the edge– too many ringing phones and too many people trying to get his attention. Too busy, too much, too fast. He pushes out his bathroom mirror and calls his wife, begging her to stay at home– telling her that he’s had it, that he can take no more. She hangs up on him, and he once again flees work, getting back on the train. This time, I’m getting off, he thinks to himself…and sure enough, after falling asleep, the dream returns, and he finally does get off in Willoughby. The boys with the fishing poles invite him along. He says maybe tomorrow. Everyone knows his name, and he strolls off into the town with a content smile…

Meanwhile, an ambulance is scraping the man’s body out of a ditch– "I don’t know…he said something about ‘Willoughby,’ walked to the platform, and just jumped off….poor fella."

Conversation with wife at 2:45 – fantastic acting chemistry