The Twilight Zone “Blurryman” review: Simply a terrifying episode

Horror, sci-fi, and socio-political commentary are the main ingredients to any Twilight Zone episode, but “Blurryman” offers us some terrifying magic with a heartfelt resolution.

Like any sci-fi horror production that Jordan Peele is apart of, The Twilight Zone has a knack from terrifying us. Beyond the realistic commentary that frightens us, horror is interwoven in the series. Without any jump scares in the equation, few episodes have thoroughly unnerved us well after the ending commentary closes out the production. We’ll be real here, beyond the chilling callouts to creators, The Twilight Zone “Blurryman” messed us up, but we’re oddly grateful for our impending nightmares.

On some level, we’re mimicking Sophie’s (portrayed by Zazie Beetz) introductory dilemma between her circadian rhyme and her workaholic tendencies because we clearly won’t be catching up on our R.E.M cycles after this episode. Or at least we’ll hope that any blurry silhouettes that might stalk us in the foreseeable future are actually the guiding presence of Rod Serling. After all, we could also use some great wisdom from Serling.

The premise of an ambiguous figure slowly creeping toward you and following you wherever you do isn’t the part that makes the horror elements so creepy. That premise is saturated throughout sci-fi and horror production. So what makes this concept so scary? Zazie Beetz. Her performance is undeniably the binding agent that brings everything together for a palatable episode.

Bringing the horror, the concept, and the contrastingly heartwarming twist, Beetz guides us through the suspense and makes us amplifies our restlessness through the quietest moments of the episode. It isn’t necessarily the unknowing factor that makes the figure so menacing, it’s how fiercely Sophie struggles to escape the alternate dimension that makes the experience so uncomfortably satisfying. Because we root for her, and we want to root for her.

Before we realize who the blurry man actually is, he personifies our fears as creators and just people trying to do our jobs the best way we can. Albeit, he ultimately interrupts Sophie to give her a new outlook on like (along with some reprieve from her stress). Still, his workplace presence isn’t a coincidence. He still represents our lingering professional apprehensions. Tack that on the list of why this episode is so frightening.

While the horror in this episode is arguably the foundation of this episode, we have to appreciate the game in the journey. Particularly, the bait and switch from the opening scene and how it transitions into the primary conflict. The Twilight Zone is hyper-aware of itself and its viewers, and it knows what we want. The fourth wall breaks let us know the show is aware of what we want, but the writers, directors, and producers simultaneously understand the source material and instead they gave us a better episode than our desires.

Feeding off our nostalgia, “Blurryman” teases us with a brief retelling of the eighth episode of the original series, “Time Enough at Last.” It was a meta reference in the form of a show within a show, but the opening scene built some side commentary on the show’s audience.

Using our own sentimental fandom against us, faux-scene comments on certain viewers longing desires for an episode-by-episode retelling of the original series. Thankfully, instead of feeding into our early expectations, “Blurryman” uses the pseudo-reboot of “Time Enough at Last” to give us something our sappy selves would’ve never anticipated. Nonetheless, we’re grateful the episode drenched the ending twist in heartfelt homage.

Simply, add Rod Serling into the episode is a beautifully executed sentiment. And it reminds us how fortunate we are that we’re still experiencing Serling’s vision through this reboot. Plus, it also parallels the finale from the original show’s first season.

Well beyond the horror mixed in the innate sci-fi genre, “Blurryman” offers us some beautiful homage to Twilight Zone‘s origins, along with a surprisingly lighthearted approach to imposter syndrome and perils of simply working too much.