So who wouldn't want to conjure up the perfect wife or husband on command. Keenan Wynn is a writer whose imagination can mold fictional characters, bring them to life, and make them disappear at will. The trouble is the characters can become so vivid, they assume a will of their own and act independently of their creator. A clever idea from the brilliant pen of real life writer Richard Matheson. I expect some such power has been a secret wish of many authors over the centuries.
Unfortunately, the idea has more suggestive value than entertainment value in this very slender half-hour, filmed on a single set with three characters. It's vaguely amusing to watch Wynn's rather shrewish wife (Phyllis Kirk) react to his adoring and adorable fictional wife (Mary La Roche), when she catches them together. However, the premise goes little beyond this rather trite situation, despite a surprise or two. Perhaps most distinctive is the segment where Wynn breaks character to converse with Serling, the only time, I believe, when this occurs in the series. There seems so much more that could have been done with this premise than creating a rather pedestrian marital triangle.
Unfortunately, the idea has more suggestive value than entertainment value in this very slender half-hour, filmed on a single set with three characters. It's vaguely amusing to watch Wynn's rather shrewish wife (Phyllis Kirk) react to his adoring and adorable fictional wife (Mary La Roche), when she catches them together. However, the premise goes little beyond this rather trite situation, despite a surprise or two. Perhaps most distinctive is the segment where Wynn breaks character to converse with Serling, the only time, I believe, when this occurs in the series. There seems so much more that could have been done with this premise than creating a rather pedestrian marital triangle.