Jordan Peele's Take on The Twilight Zone's Nightmare at 20,000 Feet Breaks from the Original
As the original Twilight Zone spiraled through time periods and parallel dimensions, the show's moral compass always held steady. After promising that a main character would enter the show's titular dimension-usually after setting up said character's tragic flaw-Rod Serling could be counted on to deliver a succinct, thoughtfully worded speech. He'd render the sci-fi case closed, offer a lesson to be learned while still giving something heady to chew on as the credits rolled. If anything, he beat the viewer over the head with his message, as if the harder he hit, the more likely he was to get through.
For better or worse, that is not how Jordan Peele's remake plays. Take the perennial classic Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, which was reborn as the higher-and less linear-Nightmare at 30,000 Feet in the Peele-helmed Twilight Zone reboot.
In the original, viewers are introduced to a man recovering from a recent mental breakdown. He takes a seat next to his wife on a plane home from the sanatarium, promising her that he'll be fine, despite the fact that a flight caused his previous panic attack. But this is The Twilight Zone. He will not be fine.
In a tight 22 minutes, we learn this man's backstory, see him discover a frightening monster on the wing of the plane, and watch in vain as he fails to convince anyone of the danger. He spurns every effort by his wife and the airline crew to subdue him, eventually managing to steal a gun, bust open the window, and shoot the monster. The man saved the lives of everyone on that plane-but when they land, it's him that's put in a stretcher, to be sent right back to the sanatarium.
The message, as always, is clear: having people think you are crazy is almost worse than actually being crazy. We all work to construct one, widely accepted world to inhabit, and it's terrifying to step outside it-even if you're right.
Over 55 years later, and 10,000 feet higher, Peele introduces us to a modern version of this man, played by Adam Scott. This man is an esteemed progressive journalist, and has just published an exposé on a Trump-alike. This man is not accompanied by his wife, although she does express concern about his mental health, via some very product-placed AirPods. This man does not have one defining characteristic. His name is Justin Sanderson.
The episode opens on a semi-futuristic TSA screening, setting the stage for a parable about the fear of terrorism. But the plot doesn't really begin until Sanderson arrives at his seat, and discovers a vintage-looking MP3 player, loaded with-what else-a gripping podcast. This being The Twilight Zone, the radio voice begins to tell the story of Sanderson's own flight. And he soon discovers, his journey is in danger of being cut short.
And so, the intrepid journalist tries his darndest to avert disaster. As in the original episode, he's often told that he's crazy; no one believes him, they'd like him to please sit down. Sanderson pesters a pair of Sikh men, then another man wanted by the Russian mob, before implicitly trusting a white ex-pilot, despite the fact that he seems to take a swig from his mini bottle of alcohol at every chance. Desperate, Sanderson gives the ex-pilot the code to the captain's cabin. Said ex-captain proceeds to beat up the crew, drop the air pressure to knock everyone out, and set the plane on a literal crash course.
But we're not done yet. Sanderson awakens on a beach, surrounded by debris. He finds the MP3 player, and discovers a second installment of the podcast. It seems that everyone will be saved, except for him. Sanderson was never found. And as his fellow passengers emerge, surrounding him on all sides with hostile sneers, implicitly blaming him for their fate, it's clear why he doesn't make it out alive.
Cue Peele as the narrator, delivering the customary send-off spiel. Except much like the tangled narrative threads thus far, his words serve to confuse further rather than clarify. Peele deems Sanderson "an investigative reporter unwilling to investigate himself." Is Sanderson being punished for his racism-going after passengers of color, when a white man was the real threat all along? For losing himself in a true-crime podcast? For being a bad journalist? Are we re-litigating the media's mistakes in the run-up to the 2016 election? If the confusion is point-if Peele believes that in today's complicated world, a simple conclusion can never be drawn-he doesn't lay that out either.
In this very different Twilight Zone, maybe there is no message. Maybe we don't deserve that comfort.
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