From Nov. 4, 1960, "The Howling Man" is justifiably acclaimed as one of the best remembered episodes, a succinct Charles Beaumont story with genuine weight and force depicted on disorienting sets with a small collection of actors. H.M. Wynant as David Ellington kicks off his fantastic tale, having spent the better part of 35 years paying penance for a discretion on which he blames himself but that perhaps no human being could resist. A walking tour across central Europe a few years following the Great War is interrupted by a violent thunderstorm, Ellington at the doorstep of a rundown hermitage where a curious sect of zealots reside, unwilling to provide shelter and insistent that he leave at once. Physically incapable of compliance, the incoherent traveler collapses before awakening to hear the awful sound of an eerie howl emanating from a prison cell, all too curious to discover its source. Inside is a bearded, lovelorn fanatic (Robin Hughes), imploring the newcomer to help him escape from his captors, whom he claims are not evil, only mad. Ellington is summoned by their leader, Brother Jerome (John Carradine), who denies any knowledge of a man being held against his will at the hermitage. Once pressed he reveals that 'The Howling Man' is no man at all but 'the devil himself!' Instantly both Ellington and the audience are positioned to question Brother Jerome, a biblical figure in suitable robes, long, flowing white beard, and wielding 'the staff of truth' (which Carradine himself had used as Aaron, brother of Moses, in Cecil B. De Mille's "The Ten Commandments"). Surely his unbelievable story can be verified by a statement about the stranger being imprisoned only by a single bar on the door that wouldn't hold back even a madman: "truth is our dogma, we believe it to be Man's greatest weapon against the devil who is the father of all lies." Alas for poor Ellington, it is Satan's ability to 'assume a pleasing shape' that convinces him to yield to the temptation to set free this terrible evil upon the world. John Carradine's larger than life portrayal is superbly done, calm and believably low key at first but eventually giving way to 'The Divine Madness' after his mentor John Barrymore, chewing every inch of scenery in fine fashion and again a compassionate figure once the truth is revealed (he'd be back for the 80s TWILIGHT ZONE in the 17 minute "Still Life," opposite son Robert, plus Rod Serling's NIGHT GALLERY in Richard Matheson's 1971 "Big Surprise"). Movie buffs familiar with Rouben Mamoulian's "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" and Henry Hull's "WereWolf of London" will appreciate the methods that television used to convey Satan's true identity, perhaps a disappointment to author Beaumont yet deemed necessary by director Douglas Heyes. Robin Hughes previously made a splash in the title role of Universal's "The Thing That Couldn't Die," illuminating eyes wielding hypnotic powers from a disembodied head, his seemingly harmless prisoner only too cleverly portrayed. In a similar vein was 1961's "The Devil's Messenger," Lon Chaney an exuberant Devil quite pleased by how easily man can be swayed: "people ruin their own lives, all we do is help them a bit!"