The Twilight Zone - Miniature

Robert Duvall's misunderstood Charlie finds solace and comfort at the dollhouse

Beaumont’s script makes this Twilight Zone’s hero someone quite unexpected: Charlie,  played as soft-spoken, tender-voiced social misfit who doesn’t dispute anything anyone says to him, trying to be agreeable and Teflon to drama, could be the show’s lone Autistic lead character. I truly believe he’s on the spectrum. William Windom, as the psychiatric doctor for Charlie when he breaks glass to a dollhouse museum exhibit to “get after the scoundrel attempting to go after the young woman” he sees inside the display living room, mentions to Charlie’s mom (Pert Kelton), sister (Barbara Barrie), and brother-in-law (Lennie Weinrib) that their use of the word “normal” oppresses him, forcing  him to try and incorporate himself into society when he isn’t quite able, leaving him to the point where he vanishes into supposed fantasy. If you have ever been close to an Autistic person, or are a parent to one, a friend or family member, then expecting him or her to act and behave exactly as you is a tall task due to factors beyond their control. And drifting into fantasy is a coping mechanism. In this episode, thanks to Beaumont’s insightful, caring script, Charlie—thanks to stellar work from Duvall, who truly is a marvel—is given sympathetic and admirable affection, literally fired by his boss and poked fun at by his co-workers because he is a “square peg” who doesn’t fit in with the “team” while his family try to get him a job and girlfriend so he will be more “normal”, holing away at the museum to be by himself with this beautiful “doll” that seems to move and live. He talks to her, totally comfortable and at ease, eventually admitting to her that he loves her. He’s totally convinced that she’s alive and he desperately wants to be with her.

The episode features a security guard at the museum, played by John McLiam, who seems concerned about Charlie. Charlie insists that he sees movement in the dollhouse, while the security guard (until the wonderful ending) is unable to. To others it is just an exhibit with wood-cut figures and decorative rooms inside the big dollhouse. To Charlie, there is actual drama playing out by living, breathing miniature people. His belief in what he sees ultimately proves to be his passage out of a depressing existence where those around him so desperately desire for him to fit in to their standards so he could truly be happy with the “woman he loves”. I found the episode especially satisfying because so often such a person isn’t granted such a safe passage. The expectations put on him by society, his family, and attempts from the job are just unfair because Charlie is simply not capable. Windom’s doctor seems to understand this and yet even he tries to “conform” Charlie to a certain degree by undermining his “fantasy whims”, attempting to divert him back into a reasonable life, getting back to work and maybe even the dating scene. Mama making the bed, the handsy gal pal of his sister’s who wants to get kissy-face on the very first date, sister’s hubby offering him a job; Charlie’s decisions and life practically handled by others as he is expected to follow dutifully. So the ending of the episode, as the gang head for the museum to find Charlie and bring him back to the mental institution, is beautifully Twilight Zone in the best way possible…Charlie is gifted an out from the life others want him to live thanks to Beaumont. Great care for the character and a performance that is understated and delicate without making Charlie a laughingstock or a clown, Miniature is a winner. Duvall is just a gem. A sleeper episode ready for discovery in the often disregarded fourth season. 4/5