Rod Serling was a deeply passionate writer, particularly about subjects like prejudice, racism, hatred and injustice that struck a personal chord. Sometimes, this could lead to overly purple or didactic monologues from the characters in his Twilight Zone scripts, usually for the worse. But in "Death's-Head Revisited", such didacticism and eloquence hits the mark in one of the most powerful shows the series aired, thanks to Serling, stars Oscar Beregi and Joseph Schildkraut, and phenomenal direction and editing.
Mysterious tourist Mr. Schmidt (Beregi) arrives in the Bavarian village of Dachau, ostensibly for the purpose of visiting the concentration camp that had been locate there; in fact, "Schmidt" is former SS officer Gunther Lutze, returned to bask in the nostalgia of his prior monstrosities. After vicariously reveling in his memories of torture and murder, he is confronted by Becker (Schildkraut), a former inmate of the camp, who has a very different agenda.
Holocaust-themed stories are always sensitive, as they can never really convey the true horror and depravity of what occurred in the camps of Nazi Germany, and always run the risk of trivializing or deflecting from the enormity of what occurred during that time. What makes "Death's-Head Revisited" work so effectively is that for the first half of the story, it gives us Beregi as a guide to follow, so that we can really get a sense of the character's inhumane tendencies, while still rooting those tendencies in the cruelty that are (sadly) all to familiar to all of us. In this, Beregi is superb, conveying every inch of the "black-uniformed, strutting animal whose function in life was to give pain," using his bulky body and authoritative voice to marvelous effect. By the end of these scenes, the feeling of revulsion at the character is obviated only by his familiarity.
It's at this point that Schildkraut appears on the scene, and with his own reserved, sad and soulful voice speaks for those who suffered at the hands of the Nazis. His voice never rises, and only rarely hits the level of force put forward by Beregi, for a simple reason - he doesn't need to; whereas Lutze's bluster is a mask for the petty hatred and insecurity that drove the Third Reich, Becker's low-key and soulful delivery allows the gravity of his description to sink in. It's one of those few times where the more didactic language from Serling is an asset, rather than a detriment.
The story is further aided by superb direction from Don Medford and Bill Musher's editing, epitomized by the transitions from Lutze's efforts to free himself from the trial and punishment to come to the futile outcomes of those efforts. These make for exciting visual moments, and enhance the sense of otherworldly justice awaiting Lutze.
In sum, the subject matter, and the remarkably effective treatment of it from Serling, Medford, Mosher, Beregi and Schildkraut, make for one of the most chillingly effective episodes of the series.
Mysterious tourist Mr. Schmidt (Beregi) arrives in the Bavarian village of Dachau, ostensibly for the purpose of visiting the concentration camp that had been locate there; in fact, "Schmidt" is former SS officer Gunther Lutze, returned to bask in the nostalgia of his prior monstrosities. After vicariously reveling in his memories of torture and murder, he is confronted by Becker (Schildkraut), a former inmate of the camp, who has a very different agenda.
Holocaust-themed stories are always sensitive, as they can never really convey the true horror and depravity of what occurred in the camps of Nazi Germany, and always run the risk of trivializing or deflecting from the enormity of what occurred during that time. What makes "Death's-Head Revisited" work so effectively is that for the first half of the story, it gives us Beregi as a guide to follow, so that we can really get a sense of the character's inhumane tendencies, while still rooting those tendencies in the cruelty that are (sadly) all to familiar to all of us. In this, Beregi is superb, conveying every inch of the "black-uniformed, strutting animal whose function in life was to give pain," using his bulky body and authoritative voice to marvelous effect. By the end of these scenes, the feeling of revulsion at the character is obviated only by his familiarity.
It's at this point that Schildkraut appears on the scene, and with his own reserved, sad and soulful voice speaks for those who suffered at the hands of the Nazis. His voice never rises, and only rarely hits the level of force put forward by Beregi, for a simple reason - he doesn't need to; whereas Lutze's bluster is a mask for the petty hatred and insecurity that drove the Third Reich, Becker's low-key and soulful delivery allows the gravity of his description to sink in. It's one of those few times where the more didactic language from Serling is an asset, rather than a detriment.
The story is further aided by superb direction from Don Medford and Bill Musher's editing, epitomized by the transitions from Lutze's efforts to free himself from the trial and punishment to come to the futile outcomes of those efforts. These make for exciting visual moments, and enhance the sense of otherworldly justice awaiting Lutze.
In sum, the subject matter, and the remarkably effective treatment of it from Serling, Medford, Mosher, Beregi and Schildkraut, make for one of the most chillingly effective episodes of the series.