Original subtitles

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 a tableau of reality.

Things of substance, of physical material.

A desk, a window, a light.

These things exist and have dimension.

Now, this is Arthur Curtis, age 36, who also is real.

He has flesh and blood, muscle and mind.

But in just a moment, we will see how thin a line separates that which we

assume to be real with that manufactured inside of a mind.

Good morning, Mr. Curtis.

Oh, good morning, Sally.

Oh, I thought I'd better get an early start. I've got to leave about three.

My wife and I haven't gotten a thing for Tina's birthday party yet. Oh, that's

right. It's Saturday afternoon, isn't it?

If my dear daughter can hold out that long.

Why, is she excited?

That's all she can talk about.

Well, that's about normal.

Are the Matson contracts ready yet? Oh, sure.

I finished them last night before I left. Good.

Here they are.

Thanks.

Well, to the grindstone.

Oh, uh, I almost forgot.

Could you call and see if you can change the plane reservations to Saturday

night? Oh, of course.

Starting at the bed, huh?

Well, it's the first real vacation Marianne and I have had in years, so we

figured why lose the whole weekend before starting out? I don't blame you,

Mr. Curtis.

So, uh, Saturday night at San Francisco, here we come.

Oh, for heaven's sake.

So hard to make a phone call?

Hey.

Hey.

Remember me, Jerry?

Marty Fisher.

Your friendly neighborhood movie director.

sally what what's the matter mr reagan

where

are you going i'm warning you jerry they won't take it anymore why is a boy

you're on the edge jerry oh it's okay marty it's okay just a little gag all

right we'll try it again shall we jerry we'll pick it up from the phone call

You're phoning your wife to tell her to meet you downtown at 3.15, right?

What are you talking about?

Where am I?

What is this, some kind of a joke or something?

I don't know you.

I don't know any of you.

Don't let him get away.

Marty, I swear to you, the agency had no idea... Just keep him here, Sam.

Sure, sure. I'll phone... I'll phone Brinkley.

Is there a telephone in here? Why don't you sit down, Jerry? I asked you if

there was a phone in... Jerry, if I have to call Brinkley on this, you're dead.

Jerry, why don't you listen to me for one minute, will you?

I don't know what's the matter with you.

Call an ambulance. Make it fast.

Shall I use a stage phone? No, of course not. If he finds out, there's no telling

what he'll do. Go on, go on, go on.

Jerry, let's go to your dressing room. Where's the nearest phone?

Jerry. My name is Arthur Curtis.

Arthur Curtis.

Lunch. One hour.

May I have information, please?

Would you give me the telephone number of Arthur Curtis, 22437 Ventnor Road in

Woodland Hills, please?

Ventnor.

V-E-N-T-N-E-R.

What?

Oh, no, no, you're mistaken. Of course there's a phone there.

No, listen, it's my own home. I'm Arthur Curtis. I... Well, I... I can't seem to

remember it at the moment. Will you... No, no, it's not an unlisted number.

I... I don't think... Will you please try again, operator?

I know there's a phone there.

Jerry.

You're wrong, operator.

Please connect me with your supervisor.

What are you doing? Jerry, I want to talk to you in your dressing room.

You're not well.

I'm getting out of here. I'm going home.

Jerry.

If you're drunk again, so... Take your hands off me.

Look, I don't care if they bounce you.

I don't care if you never work again the rest of your miserable life.

But you're going to pay me what the judge tells you to pay me, or so help

me, I'll put you so far behind bars they'll never find you again.

Mrs. Reagan.

Not Mrs.

Reagan anymore.

I'm sorry.

Can I talk to you in private? I haven't the time. He's coming with me. He'll be

back for the afternoon shooting. That's not exactly what I had in mind.

I've called an ambulance.

Jerry's having a nervous breakdown.

Ambulance?

I'm not joking, Mrs. Reagan.

drive jerry i said i'll drive you think you're gonna kill us jerry i'm gonna

bleed you i'm gonna bleed you dry now listen to me whoever you are i don't

know who you think i am but you're wrong you're wrong my name is curtis Arthur

Curtis, and I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about. Now, I'm

going to drive to my home in Woodland Hills, and when we get there, you can

have your car back. Do you understand?

You think you can chisel your way out of paying me with a cheap... My name is

Arthur Curtis. My wife's name is Marion. I have a little daughter named Tina. We

live at 22437 Ventnor Road in Woodland Hills.

I'm warning you, Jerry!

My name is Arthur Curtis!

Oh, he isn't drunk, Mr. Brinkley.

I could tell you he's cracked.

His mind is gone.

He swears he's Arthur Curtis.

Swears it.

That's right.

Arthur Curtis.

The character he's playing in the picture.

You'll let me know when the grand tour is over, won't you? I can't understand

it. I... I don't know where I am, and yet I must.

I live here.

What do you want, Jerry?

An Academy Award?

I told you, my name is... Cut it out.

You never had a less receptive audience.

You don't understand.

You go ahead.

Play it out. Do what you please. I couldn't care less.

You ask where Ventnor Road is.

Get in.

Would you rather go to jail for attempted assault?

Your blood, probably.

Well, he'll have to wait his turn.

Well?

Come on, I said I'd have you back for this afternoon's shooting.

Get out, Jerry.

Where are we?

Come on.

Come on.

I've got to get home.

You are home.

Now, let's go.

Jerry, where have you been?

Sam phoned me over an hour ago, said you left the studio.

Come on.

Can't this wait, Nora?

No, it can't. It's waited long enough.

I want my money before he goes off on his next binge.

And I'm going to get it.

Now.

Now, look.

I tried to explain to that woman that I'm not who you all seem to think I am.

My name is Curtis. I live in... Jerry, stop it.

You don't seem to realize the position you're in.

Where do you hide the checkbook?

I'll find it if I have to tear this house apart.

Jerry, I'll have to lay it right on the line.

If you lose this assignment, we'll have to drop you.

We can't cover up for you anymore. It's beyond that, way beyond that. I'm sorry,

but you're mistaken.

All right.

They can shoot around you today.

I'll tell them you're...

Sick. They won't buy it, but I'll make it stick somehow.

But you've got to be there tomorrow, Jerry.

Bright and early. You've got to convince... I don't know what's going

on. I don't know what's going on.

Jerry. All right, get over here.

Laura, don't.

Look, you stay out of this. Laura, please, can't you see that he's upset?

Leave me alone.

You're going to sign this check, Jerry. You're going to sign it right now.

Gerald Reagan.

G-E-R...

That's not my name.

Now listen, this has gone far enough.

I'm not Gerald Reagan.

I don't know any of you.

My name is Arthur Curtis, do you hear me? Arthur Curtis and I work for...

I'd

like to have the telephone number of the Davis Morton Company, 189

Brand Street.

Los Angeles.

Of course there is!

I worked there!

I've worked there for the last seven years!

Feeling better?

You don't believe me, do you?

I believe you've been overworked, under a terrible strain.

You need help, Jerry.

Help?

It's not in my province, but I've known you a long time.

Can't you see what's happened?

Cast of characters.

Arthur Curtis, 36.

A young business executive.

Happily married.

Curtis lives in Woodland Hills with his wife and child. He... Marion Curtis, 33.

A charming young woman.

Typical of that efficient breed which can manage a house and family and still

have ample... Stop it!

The only information you have about Arthur Curtis is written in this script.

No.

Jerry, sometimes I'd like to escape myself.

Away from this turmoil to some simpler existence.

You're telling me that this is a delusion.

That I'm really Gerald Reagan, a drunken... Gerald Reagan, a sweet,

unhappy man.

Burdened with that harpy.

Jerry Reagan.

Trying to find a little happiness, that's all.

No.

It's real.

It's real.

I wish it were.

For your sake, I wish it were.

I've got to go, Jerry.

Try and get some rest.

Forget about the picture. You don't have to finish it.

I just spoke to the studio a few minutes ago.

They're canceling production.

Arthur Curtis is dead.

I've got to get back.

It's too late, Jerry. It's finished.

I've got to get back to my office.

Your office?

If you mean the set, they're probably tearing it down right now.

They can't.

They can't!

Mr. Reagan. You can't do this.

We're just following orders, Mr. Reagan.

So leave me here.

All day long. Where have you been?

Been?

Well, Sally kept saying you were out. She said she didn't actually see you go

out. Let's get out of here.

Artie! Are you all right?

Sure. Well, where were you?

Mr. Curtis?

Are you leaving now?

Yes. Well, I have your tickets for Saturday night.

Here you are.

Fine, thanks.

Mm-hmm.

Please. Honey, let's not wait.

Let's go on our vacation right away. Hey, what's wrong?

Nothing, darling.

I just don't want to lose you.

Has Reagan been here?

Yeah, he was here a minute ago.

You didn't see him leave?

No, I didn't.

Hey, any of you guys see Reagan leave?

No, we didn't.

Would you take a look in his dressing room?

Yeah, sure.

He's not in his dressing room.

Wonder where he is.

Modus operandi for the departure from life is usually a pine box of such and

such dimensions.

And this is the ultimate in reality.

But there are other ways for a man to exit from life.

Take the case of Arthur Curtis, age 36.

His departure was along a highway with an exit sign that reads, This way to

escape.

Arthur Curtis en route to the Twilight Zone.

Rod Serling, the creator of Twilight Zone, will tell you about next week's

story after this word from our alternate sponsor.

And now, Mr. Serling.

Next week, the culprit is Charles Beaumont, the gentleman responsible for

a story unlike any you've ever seen.

You talk of immortality, the business of being able to live for as long as one

wants. Well, next week, you'll see Kevin McCarthy at the tail end of a life

that's gone on for 2,000 years.

The play is called Long Live.

Walter Jameson on The Twilight Zone.

Every year the Red Cross needs money.

This year ain't no different.