Tune in Tuesday: The Night Gallery DVD Collection


“Submitted for your approval: a gallery, not of fine art, but of darker visions. Each canvas holds a story, each frame a whisper from the shadows. Step inside, and you’ll find a young filmmaker named Spielberg before he conquered the silver screen, a grande dame named Crawford in her final war with the camera, and a host of nightmares painted in shades of irony, dread, and the faint smell of cigarette smoke. This is no ordinary collection — it is a museum of the macabre, open after midnight, where the price of admission is curiosity… and the exit is never guaranteed. Welcome… to the Night Gallery.”

Step right up, night crawlers, and feast your bloodshot peepers on Rod Serling’s other brainchild — the one they didn’t show you at polite dinner parties. Night Gallery wasn’t here to teach you about moral dilemmas in neatly packaged black-and-white… this was Serling with a cigarette dangling from his lips, a stiff drink in his hand, and a wicked grin, saying, “Wanna see something really weird?”

The new DVD collection is like walking into your eccentric uncle’s attic — you’re never sure if you’ll find a dusty painting worth a fortune or a cursed artifact that’ll ruin your life before breakfast. The transfers? Not 4K sharp, but that’s the point. This is midnight-TV-in-1972 soft focus, the kind where the shadows have their own secrets.

What’s in the gallery? Oh, just Spielberg before he was Spielberg, Joan Crawford chewing scenery like it owed her money, and Vincent Price swanning around like he owned the joint. You’ll get Gothic revenge tales (The Cemetery), bittersweet nostalgia bombs (They’re Tearing Down Tim Riley’s Bar), and enough twist endings to make you question your own furniture.

The extras are a little thin, but honestly, you’re here for the vibes: Serling’s sardonic intros, the queasy lighting, the sound of thunder on a backlot. It’s comfort horror — a little camp, a little creepy, and entirely irresistible.

Bottom line: this isn’t just a DVD set, it’s a haunted time machine. Pop it in, dim the lights, and remember what it felt like to watch TV when the static between stations felt like it might be alive.

Bonus: Fake ’70s TV Guide–Style Episode Listings for The Night Gallery DVD Set

(Imagine this printed on yellowing newsprint between ads for shag carpeting and Chesterfield cigarettes.)

8:00 — The Night Gallery
Rod Serling opens the doors to his sinister salon of supernatural curiosities. Tonight’s works include:

“The Cemetery” — Greedy nephew Jeremy Evans (Roddy McDowall) inherits his uncle’s mansion… but the painting in the hallway keeps changing. By the time he notices the final brushstroke, it’s far too late. (30 min)

“They’re Tearing Down Tim Riley’s Bar” — A worn-down salesman (William Windom) faces the demolition of the one place that still holds his youth — and maybe the ghosts of friends long gone. A melancholy detour into Serling’s tender side. (30 min)

“Pickman’s Model” — An art student (Louise Sorel) discovers the unsettling works of painter Richard Pickman… and the even more unsettling inspiration behind them. (30 min)

Next Week:
“Eyes” — A ruthless, blind socialite (Joan Crawford) demands the impossible: a temporary transplant to see for just one day. Spielberg directs, and the ending sees her vision in more ways than one.

“The Doll” — A cursed plaything travels halfway across the world to deliver a soldier’s grim comeuppance. Sleep with one eye open.

“Green Fingers” — A wealthy developer learns the hard way that some gardens have roots far deeper — and far deader — than they seem.

Editor’s Pick: “Skip your bedtime and turn the lights low. The paint may be dry, but the horrors in Night Gallery are still wet enough to run.”


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