One of the most offbeat episodes of any anthology series of the time. What the heck is in The Jar that country rube Pat Buttram buys from a traveling carnival act, and for the princely sum of $12, no less. It looks like a deformed creature of some sort floating in formaldehyde. There even appears to be a dangling eye staring back at those country folk who assemble nightly in Buttram's front parlor, each offering an opinion on the hypnotic contents.

Buttram himself only cares about his new found status as owner of the mysterious contents, sitting next to it like some proud hayseed Buddha and keeper of the secret. At last, his once dismissive neighbors envy him. Life would be perfect if it weren't for slutty wife, Collin Wilcox, who sneaks around with James Best, humiliating Buttram in the process. The ending itself turns out to be a horror masterpiece.

As good as the episode is, I can't help thinking it would have worked better in a half-hour format, since there is noticeable padding, especially the quicksand sequence which does add action to a talky story-line, but does little to advance the plot. Then too, the acting is uneven. Buttram surprises with an effectively understated performance-- you just know he's building a head of steam even if he doesn't show it. And George Lindsey delivers an absolutely riveting performance as a slow-witted, but sensitive neighbor. For those of us used to seeing both actors in buffoonish roles, their turn here comes as a pleasant surprise.

However, Wilcox parades her 'baby doll' wantonness so relentlessly, it almost reaches the point of cartoonish exaggeration. I was about ready to write her and the episode off, until she went into the 'purring kitten' routine so abruptly and unnervingly that I was chilled to the bone. This brilliantly perverse stroke also suggests a creepy sexual aspect to her relationship with Buttram, and frankly grabbed me more than than the celebrated climax. Anyway, I've seen nothing quite like it before or since.

Although The Jar contains more flaws than The Unlocked Window, together they remain the only two episodes from the hour-long Hitchcock really worth seeing, and I'm glad the Internet gives viewers a chance to salute such classic episodes, which otherwise-- because of relentless scheduling-- would pass into TV oblivion.