The Twilight Zone (1959–1964): Season 1, Episode 24 - Long Live Walter Jameson - full transcript
Walter Jameson is a successful history professor. He's been teaching for 12 years and has proven to be very popular with his students for his ability to bring his subject to life. He is engaged to Susanna Kittridge, his good friend Professor Sam Kittridge's daughter. One thing that Professor Kittridge has noticed about Walter is that he doesn't seem to have aged one bit in the 12 years they have known each other. Walter admits that he is far older than anyone can imagine but before he and Susanna can elope, someone from his past pays him a visit.
Long Live Walter Jameson
First Aired: 18 March 1960
English Subtitles by
Pandorafilm - Heerlen
There is a fifth dimension.
Beyond that which is known to man.
It is a dimension as vast as space.
And as timeless as infinity.
It is the middle ground
between light and shadow...
between science and superstition.
And it lies between
the pit of man's fears...
and the summit of his knowledge.
This is the dimension
of imagination.
It is an area which we call:
The Twilight Zone.
You're looking at act one
of a nightmare.
One not restricted to witching hours
and dark, rain-swept nights.
Professor Walter Jameson,
popular beyond words...
who talks of the past
as if it were the present.
Who conjures up the dead
as if they were alive.
The Union soldiers burned Atlanta.
But they took no pleasure in their
work. They were forced to it.
By a man they hated more than
they could ever hate the rebels.
An ugly, sullen,
unbelievably brutal man...
named William Tecumseh Sherman.
To give you a more comprehensive
idea of this great hero,
Let me read you a few extracts from
The diary of Major Skelton.
The date is Tuesday,
September 11, 1864.
'The city was ours.
'There was no need to destroy aught,
Save that which could be of use...
'But Sherman was drunk with victory.
'He himself started the awful fires.
'The fires that destroyed that
great citadel of grace and beauty.'
In the view of this man,
professor Samuel Kittridge...
Walter Jameson has
access to knowledge...
that couldn't come out
of a volume of history.
but rather from a
book on black magic.
Which is to say that this
nightmare begins at noon.
Very vivid, Walter.
You had me on the edge of my seat.
I begin to see why these lectures
of yours are so popular.
Is that why you sat in?
Partially. Tell me something.
Who is this Major Skelton?
Just a lawyer wrapped into a mist.
-Uh, what regiment?
123rd infantry.
I must say, the story of his
is a fascinating document.
May I see it?
I don't suppose I could borrow it?
I never lend books to
absent-minded professors.
You're right.
-Anything wrong, Sam?
Could you come for dinner tonight?
-Your invitation or Susanna's?
Mine this time. Say, 7:00?
-All right.
Really, darling,
must you always be on time?
Please. Remember, you're a Ph.D.
-Not yet, I'm not.
There's a little matter
of an examination.
A technicality.
Anyway, you're gonna be a housewife.
The devil she is.
I'm giving you my daughter's hand,
not her brain.
She's gonna get that Ph.D....
-If I have to spank her. I know.
Are you the cook again tonight?
-In deed, and why not?
It's time that I tried her cooking.
-Don't worry, you will.
Shall we sit down?
-My lady.
I take it back, Sam.
She'll never be the cook you are.
What are you doing, young lady?
-I'll do the dishes later.
I don't mean the dishes.
I mean books and study. Upstairs.
Besides, Walter and I
have something to discuss.
Are you going to treat me this way?
-Worse.
Who knows.
You may have to support us.
You oughta be ashamed of yourself.
Susanna's almost 30 years old.
And I'm almost 70.
My move, isn't it?
-Yes.
What's that for?
-Look at them. Extraordinary.
They look very much alike
twelve years ago, those two hands.
Time marches on.
-For some of us.
Walter, tell me something, will you?
-Of course.
How old are you?
Forty-four.
I recall that when you applied for
a post on the university staff...
you listed your age as 39.
That was, let me see, 1947...
Which would make you 51.
-Come on, Sam.
All right, I'm 51.
Too old for Susanna? Is that it?
In a sense.
In 1947, I was 58.
I had most of my hair,
all my teeth and hardly a wrinkle.
Look at me now. In 12 short years,
I've turned into an old man.
While you haven't aged at all.
It happens that way sometimes.
-I know, but why?
Don't ask me. You're the chemist.
I teach history.
Yes, and you teach it very well.
You know what the students say?
It's almost as if you'd lived through
the period you were discussing.
I try to make it interesting.
-Fake it, you mean?
You could call it that.
-Yes, that's what I thought.
But that didn't seem like you.
-You're such a precise sort.
What have you got there?
-A photo book of the civil war.
Well, what is it?
You look as if you've seen a ghost.
-Maybe I have.
Walter was your grandfather in
the civil war, by any chance?
No.
Then we have a mystery here.
-How so?
You made me curious about
this Major Skelton today.
I wanted to see what he looked like.
So I went through my Brady pictures.
Not really expecting
to find anything.
These are three of
Sherman's staff officers.
The one seated at the table is
identified as Major Hugh Skelton.
That picture was taken
almost 100 years ago.
You shouldn't have kept that ring.
It's a dead giveaway.
What are you getting at, Sam?
-You know what I'm getting at.
You're joking. Just because I look
like somebody in a photograph.
And wearing the same ring and
have the same mole on your face.
You and I have been
very close for 12 years.
Tell me the truth. You...
You are that man in the photograph,
aren't you?
Yes.
I've suspected a long time.
But it seemed fantastic.
-It is.
Yes.
-How old are you, Walter?
You wouldn't believe me.
-I can believe anything now.
Let's say that I'm old enough to
have known this gentleman personally.
Plato?
But that was over 2,000 years ago.
I knew you wouldn't believe me.
-No, it isn't that, it's...
Two thousand years.
How, Walter? How?
In heaven's name, this is what
man kind has been dreaming of.
Tell me the secret.
-I can't tell you the secret, Sam.
Because I don't know it myself.
I was like you, Sam.
Afraid of death.
And when I thought of all the things
there were to know in a few years...
it seemed senseless.
At night...
I dreamed, as you dream,
of immortality.
Only if a man lived forever, could
there be any point in living at all?
I talked to priests, philosophers.
Then one day I met an alchemist.
Told him these things.
He said that he could grant my wish.
It would cost a great deal of money.
I was desperate, I paid him his money
and submitted to his experiments.
I remember very little about it.
I lay in a coma for many weeks.
When I revived, I was alone.
The alchemist had disappeared.
-Go on.
There's very little more to tell.
I thought that the experiment
had failed...
because I didn't feel
any differently.
But then...
I saw my wife and my children aging.
My friends dying.
This was something that I
hadn't considered, you see?
But surely there's some
answer to that problem.
Is there?
Think about it.
Somehow I can stop you from aging.
Where do you want to stop, at 30?
Then you watch everyone
around you grow old. At 70?
Do you want to live forever the
way you are now? Old, sick?
It's better than dying.
-No, you're wrong, Sam.
I was wrong.
It's...
death that gives
this world its point.
We love a rose because
we know it'll soon be gone.
Who ever loved a stone?
-I'm not a rose or a stone. I'm a man.
Very old and very frightened.
-Of what, death?
You're a fool, Sam. I want to die.
-Then why don't you?
Because I'm a coward.
-You?
I haven't changed. I was a
coward then, I'm a coward now.
I'm tired of living.
In my desk I have a revolver, Sam.
Every night I take it and pray for the
courage to pull the trigger. I can't.
You've survived over 2,000 years
without an accident or being wounded?
Some people are lucky that way.
They go through life without ever
breaking a bone of hospitalization.
I've been close to death.
Many times,
But never close enough.
Thank you.
-For what?
I thought if a man lived forever,
he'd grow wiser.
But that isn't true, is it?
You just go on living.
That's all.
It must be lonely.
I suppose you've been
married several times.
Yes.
-How long with each woman, Walter?
Ten years? Fifteen years?
-I see.
I tried to resign six months ago. You
talked me out of it. Do you remember?
I knew Susanna was falling in love
with me. And I knew what would happen.
A few years of happiness and then...
I tried to warn her.
I did everything to discourage her.
-Except tell her the truth.
She'd have thought I was mad.
-Then why didn't you leave?
Because by then it was too late.
I was in love with her.
I need her.
Everything is against it.
All my reason and experience.
But that doesn't matter now.
It does to me, Walter.
I can't let you marry my daughter.
And why not?
Well, come on.
Your father seems to think
I'm too old for you, darling.
That's the silliest
thing I ever heard of.
Then you'll marry me tonight.
I think you mean it.
-I do.
Go and pack your prettiest things.
I'll pick you up in 15 minutes.
But...
-Go.
I'll tell her.
-She won't believe you. Nobody would.
You won't believe it yourself
by tomorrow morning.
Hello, Tommy.
Who are you?
Don't you recognize me, Tommy?
Look hard.
Look into my eyes.
A long time ago, you called them
the most beautiful you'd ever seen.
I'm afraid you're making a mistake.
-No, Tommy.
My name is Jameson.
Professor Walter Jameson.
Don't pretend.
I know who you are.
And who am I?
You're Tom Bowen, my husband.
Your husband?
My dear woman, perhaps if you'll
tell me who you're looking for.
Stop it. I saw the picture in the
newspaper announcing your engagement.
I had to come to see if it was true.
It is.
I can't explain it. It's happened.
I've grown old, and you haven't.
Now you're going to marry someone else
and leave her, the way you left me.
Oh, Laurette.
Laurette.
I can't let you marry her, Tommy.
You're mine.
Laurette.
-Tommy, it's wrong.
You can't go on hurting people.
What is it?
What's happened?
Walter?
-Hello, Sam.
I thought I heard...
Are you all right?
I don't know.
It doesn't matter.
Either way, you're...
You'll be rid of me.
-What do you mean?
I mean, I've come to my senses.
At last.
Tell Susanna that...
No, stay away.
You're hurt.
I'll call a doctor.
-No.
Your hand.
It's happening.
At last.
Walter, what is it?
What's happening?
Oh, my god.
Nothing lasts forever, thank god.
Dad. Walter.
Go home, Susanna.
-That was a shot. Walter's hurt.
He's gone.
-Where?
I don't know, my dear, I...
His clothes?
Dad?
What is that on the floor?
Dust.
Only dust.
Last stop on a long journey.
As yet another human being returns
to the vast nothing of the beginning.
And into the dust that
is always the end.
English Subtitles by
B. Cornelis - Pandorafilm - Heerlen
First Aired: 18 March 1960
English Subtitles by
Pandorafilm - Heerlen
There is a fifth dimension.
Beyond that which is known to man.
It is a dimension as vast as space.
And as timeless as infinity.
It is the middle ground
between light and shadow...
between science and superstition.
And it lies between
the pit of man's fears...
and the summit of his knowledge.
This is the dimension
of imagination.
It is an area which we call:
The Twilight Zone.
You're looking at act one
of a nightmare.
One not restricted to witching hours
and dark, rain-swept nights.
Professor Walter Jameson,
popular beyond words...
who talks of the past
as if it were the present.
Who conjures up the dead
as if they were alive.
The Union soldiers burned Atlanta.
But they took no pleasure in their
work. They were forced to it.
By a man they hated more than
they could ever hate the rebels.
An ugly, sullen,
unbelievably brutal man...
named William Tecumseh Sherman.
To give you a more comprehensive
idea of this great hero,
Let me read you a few extracts from
The diary of Major Skelton.
The date is Tuesday,
September 11, 1864.
'The city was ours.
'There was no need to destroy aught,
Save that which could be of use...
'But Sherman was drunk with victory.
'He himself started the awful fires.
'The fires that destroyed that
great citadel of grace and beauty.'
In the view of this man,
professor Samuel Kittridge...
Walter Jameson has
access to knowledge...
that couldn't come out
of a volume of history.
but rather from a
book on black magic.
Which is to say that this
nightmare begins at noon.
Very vivid, Walter.
You had me on the edge of my seat.
I begin to see why these lectures
of yours are so popular.
Is that why you sat in?
Partially. Tell me something.
Who is this Major Skelton?
Just a lawyer wrapped into a mist.
-Uh, what regiment?
123rd infantry.
I must say, the story of his
is a fascinating document.
May I see it?
I don't suppose I could borrow it?
I never lend books to
absent-minded professors.
You're right.
-Anything wrong, Sam?
Could you come for dinner tonight?
-Your invitation or Susanna's?
Mine this time. Say, 7:00?
-All right.
Really, darling,
must you always be on time?
Please. Remember, you're a Ph.D.
-Not yet, I'm not.
There's a little matter
of an examination.
A technicality.
Anyway, you're gonna be a housewife.
The devil she is.
I'm giving you my daughter's hand,
not her brain.
She's gonna get that Ph.D....
-If I have to spank her. I know.
Are you the cook again tonight?
-In deed, and why not?
It's time that I tried her cooking.
-Don't worry, you will.
Shall we sit down?
-My lady.
I take it back, Sam.
She'll never be the cook you are.
What are you doing, young lady?
-I'll do the dishes later.
I don't mean the dishes.
I mean books and study. Upstairs.
Besides, Walter and I
have something to discuss.
Are you going to treat me this way?
-Worse.
Who knows.
You may have to support us.
You oughta be ashamed of yourself.
Susanna's almost 30 years old.
And I'm almost 70.
My move, isn't it?
-Yes.
What's that for?
-Look at them. Extraordinary.
They look very much alike
twelve years ago, those two hands.
Time marches on.
-For some of us.
Walter, tell me something, will you?
-Of course.
How old are you?
Forty-four.
I recall that when you applied for
a post on the university staff...
you listed your age as 39.
That was, let me see, 1947...
Which would make you 51.
-Come on, Sam.
All right, I'm 51.
Too old for Susanna? Is that it?
In a sense.
In 1947, I was 58.
I had most of my hair,
all my teeth and hardly a wrinkle.
Look at me now. In 12 short years,
I've turned into an old man.
While you haven't aged at all.
It happens that way sometimes.
-I know, but why?
Don't ask me. You're the chemist.
I teach history.
Yes, and you teach it very well.
You know what the students say?
It's almost as if you'd lived through
the period you were discussing.
I try to make it interesting.
-Fake it, you mean?
You could call it that.
-Yes, that's what I thought.
But that didn't seem like you.
-You're such a precise sort.
What have you got there?
-A photo book of the civil war.
Well, what is it?
You look as if you've seen a ghost.
-Maybe I have.
Walter was your grandfather in
the civil war, by any chance?
No.
Then we have a mystery here.
-How so?
You made me curious about
this Major Skelton today.
I wanted to see what he looked like.
So I went through my Brady pictures.
Not really expecting
to find anything.
These are three of
Sherman's staff officers.
The one seated at the table is
identified as Major Hugh Skelton.
That picture was taken
almost 100 years ago.
You shouldn't have kept that ring.
It's a dead giveaway.
What are you getting at, Sam?
-You know what I'm getting at.
You're joking. Just because I look
like somebody in a photograph.
And wearing the same ring and
have the same mole on your face.
You and I have been
very close for 12 years.
Tell me the truth. You...
You are that man in the photograph,
aren't you?
Yes.
I've suspected a long time.
But it seemed fantastic.
-It is.
Yes.
-How old are you, Walter?
You wouldn't believe me.
-I can believe anything now.
Let's say that I'm old enough to
have known this gentleman personally.
Plato?
But that was over 2,000 years ago.
I knew you wouldn't believe me.
-No, it isn't that, it's...
Two thousand years.
How, Walter? How?
In heaven's name, this is what
man kind has been dreaming of.
Tell me the secret.
-I can't tell you the secret, Sam.
Because I don't know it myself.
I was like you, Sam.
Afraid of death.
And when I thought of all the things
there were to know in a few years...
it seemed senseless.
At night...
I dreamed, as you dream,
of immortality.
Only if a man lived forever, could
there be any point in living at all?
I talked to priests, philosophers.
Then one day I met an alchemist.
Told him these things.
He said that he could grant my wish.
It would cost a great deal of money.
I was desperate, I paid him his money
and submitted to his experiments.
I remember very little about it.
I lay in a coma for many weeks.
When I revived, I was alone.
The alchemist had disappeared.
-Go on.
There's very little more to tell.
I thought that the experiment
had failed...
because I didn't feel
any differently.
But then...
I saw my wife and my children aging.
My friends dying.
This was something that I
hadn't considered, you see?
But surely there's some
answer to that problem.
Is there?
Think about it.
Somehow I can stop you from aging.
Where do you want to stop, at 30?
Then you watch everyone
around you grow old. At 70?
Do you want to live forever the
way you are now? Old, sick?
It's better than dying.
-No, you're wrong, Sam.
I was wrong.
It's...
death that gives
this world its point.
We love a rose because
we know it'll soon be gone.
Who ever loved a stone?
-I'm not a rose or a stone. I'm a man.
Very old and very frightened.
-Of what, death?
You're a fool, Sam. I want to die.
-Then why don't you?
Because I'm a coward.
-You?
I haven't changed. I was a
coward then, I'm a coward now.
I'm tired of living.
In my desk I have a revolver, Sam.
Every night I take it and pray for the
courage to pull the trigger. I can't.
You've survived over 2,000 years
without an accident or being wounded?
Some people are lucky that way.
They go through life without ever
breaking a bone of hospitalization.
I've been close to death.
Many times,
But never close enough.
Thank you.
-For what?
I thought if a man lived forever,
he'd grow wiser.
But that isn't true, is it?
You just go on living.
That's all.
It must be lonely.
I suppose you've been
married several times.
Yes.
-How long with each woman, Walter?
Ten years? Fifteen years?
-I see.
I tried to resign six months ago. You
talked me out of it. Do you remember?
I knew Susanna was falling in love
with me. And I knew what would happen.
A few years of happiness and then...
I tried to warn her.
I did everything to discourage her.
-Except tell her the truth.
She'd have thought I was mad.
-Then why didn't you leave?
Because by then it was too late.
I was in love with her.
I need her.
Everything is against it.
All my reason and experience.
But that doesn't matter now.
It does to me, Walter.
I can't let you marry my daughter.
And why not?
Well, come on.
Your father seems to think
I'm too old for you, darling.
That's the silliest
thing I ever heard of.
Then you'll marry me tonight.
I think you mean it.
-I do.
Go and pack your prettiest things.
I'll pick you up in 15 minutes.
But...
-Go.
I'll tell her.
-She won't believe you. Nobody would.
You won't believe it yourself
by tomorrow morning.
Hello, Tommy.
Who are you?
Don't you recognize me, Tommy?
Look hard.
Look into my eyes.
A long time ago, you called them
the most beautiful you'd ever seen.
I'm afraid you're making a mistake.
-No, Tommy.
My name is Jameson.
Professor Walter Jameson.
Don't pretend.
I know who you are.
And who am I?
You're Tom Bowen, my husband.
Your husband?
My dear woman, perhaps if you'll
tell me who you're looking for.
Stop it. I saw the picture in the
newspaper announcing your engagement.
I had to come to see if it was true.
It is.
I can't explain it. It's happened.
I've grown old, and you haven't.
Now you're going to marry someone else
and leave her, the way you left me.
Oh, Laurette.
Laurette.
I can't let you marry her, Tommy.
You're mine.
Laurette.
-Tommy, it's wrong.
You can't go on hurting people.
What is it?
What's happened?
Walter?
-Hello, Sam.
I thought I heard...
Are you all right?
I don't know.
It doesn't matter.
Either way, you're...
You'll be rid of me.
-What do you mean?
I mean, I've come to my senses.
At last.
Tell Susanna that...
No, stay away.
You're hurt.
I'll call a doctor.
-No.
Your hand.
It's happening.
At last.
Walter, what is it?
What's happening?
Oh, my god.
Nothing lasts forever, thank god.
Dad. Walter.
Go home, Susanna.
-That was a shot. Walter's hurt.
He's gone.
-Where?
I don't know, my dear, I...
His clothes?
Dad?
What is that on the floor?
Dust.
Only dust.
Last stop on a long journey.
As yet another human being returns
to the vast nothing of the beginning.
And into the dust that
is always the end.
English Subtitles by
B. Cornelis - Pandorafilm - Heerlen