Back in July, we ran a piece about the various ways that the character of Satan was interpreted on The Twilight Zone, but he’s hardly the only stock character to make repeat visits to the dimension of imagination. Death, that inescapable specter that hangs over all of us, also owns a timeshare there.
Just like The Devil, Death has many faces. Sometimes he’s a disarmingly handsome young man, sometimes he’s a dour bureaucrat, and sometimes he’s TV’S JASON ALEXANDER. I’ll walk you through it, but be warned: The Twilight Zone is 90% twist endings, so spoilers abound.
Mr. Death (Murray Hamilton), One for the Angels (1958)
One for the Angels is a light-hearted riff on stories like The Seventh Seal, where a mortal makes a pact with Death itself, but this time there are rules. Mr. Death is a dull middle-management type, and he’s willing to consider the pleas of down-on-his-luck street pitchman Lew Bookman (living Hanna-Barbera cartoon Ed Wynn) so long as they square with established death-delay protocols. Bookman tries to put one over on Death, who wearily decides to harvest a little girl’s soul instead.
That’s the thing about Mr. Death: this is just his goddamn job, you know? He’s been reaping, ostensibly for eons, and all he wants to do is get on with his day. Thankfully for the kid, his ennui leaves him vulnerable to a truly impassioned pitch from Bookman, who sells him an entire suitcase full of shitty trinkets and ugly ties until the girl recovers.
The Hitch-Hiker (Leonard Strong), The Hitch-Hiker (1960)
The Hitch-Hiker’s gimmick is appearing alongside the road, trying to flag down weary travelers. No matter how many times you pass him, he’s always there in your rear view, trying to get your attention. The woman he’s following (Inger Stevens) gets more and more terrified each time, but slowly realizes that he’s just trying to calm her spirit so she can move on. It’s got a real urban legend feel to it.
That said, jeez, look at that mug. I wouldn’t want to pick him up either, but only because he’d probably need a lift all the way out to his Dorothea Lange-ass dust bowl farm. I’m not sure if he’s gonna ferry my soul to Hell or tell me about the rabbits.
Harold Beldon (Robert Redford), Nothing in the Dark (1962)
Hey, it’s 1970s heartthrob Robert Redford! Throbert is like 20 years old here as wounded police officer Harold Beldon, who’s recuperating inside the home of a paranoid old woman (Gladys Cooper). She’s been locked up alone for years, terrified that “Mr. Death” would come and take her away. In the end, handsome Harold convinces her that fearing death is silly, and she takes his hand and passes in peace.
Man, how funny would it be if this cat actually was the same Mr. Death from before? Like, as soon as this bluehair was through passing into the light, he turns back into a grumpy-ass sales manager and starts lugging his suitcase full of impulse purchases to his next reaping.
Death (Stephen McHattie), Rendezvous in a Dark Place (1989)
On the other end of the death positivity spectrum is Janet Leigh’s Barbara LeMay, an elderly woman who’s a real funeral fan. In fact, she loves them so much that she spends her time attending funerals of folks she doesn’t know. When a gunshot victim stumbles into her life, Barbara enthusiastically invites him inside in the hopes of finally meeting Death himself. I guess you could say that she don’t fear The Reaper (no word on the wind, the sun, or the rain).
Hilariously, when Death shows up she gives him a bunch of psychobabble about how the love she feels for him is all transferred from the love she felt for her departed friends and family. Ultimately, this Death is so impressed with Barbara’s attitude that he recruits her to be a reaper herself. Seriously, this lady’s about a step away from using her death positivity as a weapon in a lucha libre battle.
Death (Jason Alexander), One Night At Mercy (2002)
TV’s Jason Alexander is a fine actor, and he’s truly excelled at roles as disparate as George Costanza and that absurd-looking Criminal Minds unsub that he definitely didn’t Wicker Man. Here, he’s doing his level best to make Mr. Death look like Barbara LeMay; his version of Death is severely depressed about his job. In fact, he’s in a hospital following an unsuccessful suicide attempt, probably because universal abstract concepts are notoriously hale.
Since killing himself didn’t take, Death decides to just stop harvesting souls. Without his aid, however, the suffering are unable to find serenity now. Yadda yadda yadda, a dedicated young doctor convinces him that he should once again become master of his domain. Those pretzels were making him thirsty.
