“Americans were likely to be found walking in their sleep, in need of some kind of nightmare to wake them up.” So writes David J. Brokaw in Monsters on Maple Street, a close examination of one of the most singular shows ever to run on television, “The Twilight Zone.”
For 21st century audiences living with visual overload and a plethora of streaming options, it’s hard to describe how weird was the “Zone” when it appeared on prime time (1959-64). Even years later in syndication, Rod Serling’s series stood out against the banality of network programming. Brokaw, professor of history at the University of Advancing Technology in Tempe, AZ, reminds us that the “Zone” was Serling’s response to the closing of early TV’s brief, now barely recalled golden age of live theater and controversial issues. Serling had earned Emmys for teleplays that cast a critical eye on big business, big sports and the entertainment industry. As television pivoted away from critical content, Serling shifted genres without losing his conscience. The fantasy, horror and science fiction of “The Twilight Zone” served as a thin veil of acceptability in the eyes of network censors.
Even so, Serling was forced to compromise. In an episode addressing racist violence, “I Am the Night—Color Me Black,” the network forcibly recast the victim of lynching a white. And yet, Serling was able to retain the Black preacher who condemned the towns people, and the “Zone” was allowed to denounce white supremacy in a different episode, “He’s Alive,” in the context of neo-Nazism. As Brokaw writes, “This inability to show non-white characters as suffering from established social norms illustrated the tense and uncomfortable relationship between American popular television and social injustices.”
The illuminating Monsters on Maple Street: The Twilight Zone and the Postwar American Dream is published by University Press of Kentucky.