One of the more popular episodes, it's an outlandish tale of a young men who stumbles into a remote hermitage, discovers that they have a man locked up who they think is the devil, lets the poor beggarly fellow loose, and watches as he transmogrifies himself into You-Know-Who, then spends the rest of his life hunting him down and imprisoning him again.
The devil is always a tricky figure to deal with. He doesn't have much of a role in the Bible. Milton described Lucifer as extremely beautiful, but otherwise, somewhere along the time line, he began to acquire the characteristics we associate him with today -- the horns, the tail, the beard, his evil nature -- until he finally came to resemble a Boatswain's Mate I once had the misfortune to serve under.
He's also tricky because, as a malignant force, he clashes with our traditional concept of God as all good and all powerful. If that's true, how come God doesn't stomp the Devil like the cockroach he is? Christianity has been wrestling with this conundrum a long time. The answer seems a little weak. The Devil is allowed to exist because he's here to tempt us and test our faith. Some of the early cults, the Manicheans and Zoroastrians more or less said the hell with it and made the two figures equally powerful.
As far as this story is concerned, the concept is kind of interesting -- the Devil holed up in Frankenstein's castle somewhere in Middle Europe. H. M. Wynant, as the protagonist, is as good as most television actors of the period. As the Chief Hermit, the cadaverous John Carradine is deliciously hammy. Robin Hughes is competent as the Howling Man. But the director, Douglas Heyes, almost ruins the story. What was going through his head. Almost every scene is shot at an alarming angle -- not a delicate tilt, and not during scenes intended to be hallucinatory -- but even simple conversations. Sometimes the camera tilts radically from one side to the other.
And Heyes kneecaps the story after Hughes is released from his cell. With an evil grin, he stride off towards the window, passing behind several pillars. Every time he reappears from behind a pillar he's more demonic than before. Well, every viewer over the age of ten, must know that when Hughes paces behind a pillar, the camera is stopped, more make ups are applied, the camera rolls again, and Hughes reappears as if he'd never stopped. And by the end, Hughes wears what appears to be a Hallowe'en costume.
The story was written by Charles Beaumont, who was pretty good before he got sick. Beaumont wanted the transformation to be unseen until the last second, when the hero dashes after the Devil, makes a futile grab for his foot, and the foot is a cloven hoof. Beaumont was right. Too bad Heyes overruled him.
The devil is always a tricky figure to deal with. He doesn't have much of a role in the Bible. Milton described Lucifer as extremely beautiful, but otherwise, somewhere along the time line, he began to acquire the characteristics we associate him with today -- the horns, the tail, the beard, his evil nature -- until he finally came to resemble a Boatswain's Mate I once had the misfortune to serve under.
He's also tricky because, as a malignant force, he clashes with our traditional concept of God as all good and all powerful. If that's true, how come God doesn't stomp the Devil like the cockroach he is? Christianity has been wrestling with this conundrum a long time. The answer seems a little weak. The Devil is allowed to exist because he's here to tempt us and test our faith. Some of the early cults, the Manicheans and Zoroastrians more or less said the hell with it and made the two figures equally powerful.
As far as this story is concerned, the concept is kind of interesting -- the Devil holed up in Frankenstein's castle somewhere in Middle Europe. H. M. Wynant, as the protagonist, is as good as most television actors of the period. As the Chief Hermit, the cadaverous John Carradine is deliciously hammy. Robin Hughes is competent as the Howling Man. But the director, Douglas Heyes, almost ruins the story. What was going through his head. Almost every scene is shot at an alarming angle -- not a delicate tilt, and not during scenes intended to be hallucinatory -- but even simple conversations. Sometimes the camera tilts radically from one side to the other.
And Heyes kneecaps the story after Hughes is released from his cell. With an evil grin, he stride off towards the window, passing behind several pillars. Every time he reappears from behind a pillar he's more demonic than before. Well, every viewer over the age of ten, must know that when Hughes paces behind a pillar, the camera is stopped, more make ups are applied, the camera rolls again, and Hughes reappears as if he'd never stopped. And by the end, Hughes wears what appears to be a Hallowe'en costume.
The story was written by Charles Beaumont, who was pretty good before he got sick. Beaumont wanted the transformation to be unseen until the last second, when the hero dashes after the Devil, makes a futile grab for his foot, and the foot is a cloven hoof. Beaumont was right. Too bad Heyes overruled him.