| rdfs:comment
| - The Man Who Knew Too Much is the second part of the season finale of Season 6, and the 22nd episode. It aired on May 20th, 2011.
- In the book-length interview Hitchcock/Truffaut (1967), in response to fellow filmmaker François Truffaut's assertion that aspects of the remake were by far superior, Hitchcock replied "Let's say the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second was made by a professional." The film won an Academy Award for Best Song for "Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera, Sera)", sung by Doris Day. It was also entered into the 1956 Cannes Film Festival.
- Some time later, on November 17th, Harold is at work in his data entry job, feeding in endless faceless and meaningless names into a computer when an Agent arrives, asking him about Jeff, who he is trying to find. Jeff writes on Harold's screen (mirroring the scene in The Matrix where Trinity does the same to Neo), saying not to tell the Agent anything. The Agent claims Jeff has commited unspeakable crimes against the state, but seems not to notice Harold typing back in reply, asking what is happening. Jeff replies back that everything he told him is true, and he'll contact him. As the Agent looks up from his file to Harold and the computer screen, Harold asks what he wants to know about Jeff and the Agent tells him they need to know the last time he saw Jeff and the last time they talked.
- Published in StoryStar 2014 It’s very good of you, Doctor, to see me at such short notice … and although you are a psychiatrist, you will find that I am perfectly sane, once you have listened to my account of what I saw inside the box. If you eventually decide that I am, in fact, mad, then I would be very happy to invite you to look into the box yourself. Now, Doctor, let me start at the beginning. Are you ready?
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| abstract
| - The Man Who Knew Too Much is the second part of the season finale of Season 6, and the 22nd episode. It aired on May 20th, 2011.
- In the book-length interview Hitchcock/Truffaut (1967), in response to fellow filmmaker François Truffaut's assertion that aspects of the remake were by far superior, Hitchcock replied "Let's say the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second was made by a professional." The film won an Academy Award for Best Song for "Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera, Sera)", sung by Doris Day. It was also entered into the 1956 Cannes Film Festival.
- Some time later, on November 17th, Harold is at work in his data entry job, feeding in endless faceless and meaningless names into a computer when an Agent arrives, asking him about Jeff, who he is trying to find. Jeff writes on Harold's screen (mirroring the scene in The Matrix where Trinity does the same to Neo), saying not to tell the Agent anything. The Agent claims Jeff has commited unspeakable crimes against the state, but seems not to notice Harold typing back in reply, asking what is happening. Jeff replies back that everything he told him is true, and he'll contact him. As the Agent looks up from his file to Harold and the computer screen, Harold asks what he wants to know about Jeff and the Agent tells him they need to know the last time he saw Jeff and the last time they talked. Just as the Agent is about to put his hand on Harold's shoulder he spins around, shouting that he doesn't know "what games are being played", but that he has nothing to say. The Agent replies that he will, "It's just a matter of time. We'll be watching you, Mr. Hobbs." Setting about trying to find Jeff himself, Harold tries to phone Jeff's parents, but is connected to a Mexican Restaurant instead. He tries mutual friends, none of which have seen or heard from Jeff in the past six months. From then on Harold started to become paranoid, feeling that he is being watched and followed, and decides not to go home as a result. Checking into a nice hotel he had stayed at before, he finds the place dirty now with lots of bugs, and so goes for a walk to clear his head and think. As he decides nothing makes sense someone mugs him, approaching from behind with a flick-knife and demanding his money. He refuses, hitting his assailant who drops the knife and flees. Still depressed, he carries on walking, and a public telephone he is passing rings. It's Jeff, saying that he can't answer the questions he has yet, but that he's no longer being watched, telling him to go home just as an Agent takes a photo of him from an upper story window of a building on the opposite side of the street. Still mystified, Harold goes home and decides to search the internet, but as he finds that the entire thing has been wiped out. Jeff comes back and says: "I can't tell you where I am. But remember the Matrix? How we looked for answers? The tables have turned. The answers now look for you. Stay well." The story ends with Harold sitting by a window with a book, all of the pages of which apparently read "The Matrix Has You" as dark suited men seem to be watching him from every window of the surrounding buildings.
- Published in StoryStar 2014 It’s very good of you, Doctor, to see me at such short notice … and although you are a psychiatrist, you will find that I am perfectly sane, once you have listened to my account of what I saw inside the box. If you eventually decide that I am, in fact, mad, then I would be very happy to invite you to look into the box yourself. Now, Doctor, let me start at the beginning. Are you ready? Recently I bought a house up on Hatfield Hill. Such a lovely, old place it is, and with a wonderful view down over the valley. On moving day, I was pleased to see that the house had been left in very neat and tidy order, so I quickly set about moving my furniture into place, and in no time, I felt settled and comfortable. The only area of the house I had yet to explore was the attic, which I was looking forward to being able to use for extra storage, and maybe even as a place where I could set up a darkroom for my hobby of photography. So, last weekend, I finally found the time to climb up the spiral staircase into this last room of the house. As with all the other rooms, I found it to be neat and tidy, except for a box that had been left in one of the dark corners of this dim attic. The box looked like an old trunk, and I thought that maybe the previous owners had left it empty for my own use … or perhaps they had forgotten to take it by mistake. I took a look and on the top of the box was a little note that simply said “Don’t Open”. Well, of course I was going to open it. It may have contained something important that the previous owners might have needed, or if it were empty, then I would certainly find it handy for storage purposes myself. So I opened it. Who wouldn’t have? It was a perfectly natural thing to do. Initially, as I gazed inside, the box appeared to be empty. However, on closer inspection, I noticed that I could not detect any floor or walls to it. I placed my hand inside and nor could I feel any boundaries to this strange container. As I looked more closely, I realised that I was staring into an abyss - into a bottomless, black void of absolute nothingness. How could this be? A shiver ran up my spine and I was gripped with fear … and yet, I was powerless to look away. The box seemed to have taken hold of me, and I was forced to watch and witness things that no man should see. At first, I could see an image of myself looking into this very box, but then quickly, as I continued to watch, episodes of my future began to unfold like a video in fast forward, and the rest of my life was played out in front of me. I now know what lies ahead for me over the next few decades, and I also know how I will die and when I will die, to the very minute and second. Nobody wants to know this sort of information. Would you, Doctor? My heart was racing and I wanted to tear myself away, but the box had a grip on me that could not be released. The fast forward video continued long past my death and on into a far distant time. I witnessed mankind’s future history until we had become extinct, I watched as other creatures evolved, as asteroids and comets occasionally hit the Earth, creating destruction and renewal, as is Nature’s way. I saw our Sun grow older, run out of fuel and die, taking our solar system with it. But the box hadn’t finished with me yet. Why did it want me to know all this? The box showed me how the Universe would continue to expand, and how it would eventually fade away into the nothingness from which it had come. Surely now, the box had finished with me … but no, there was one final episode that it insisted that I witness. I was shown the face of God and the hideous horrors of Hades. I was taught the meaning of life and was made to understand the purpose of our very existence and that of the Universe itself. This knowledge is all embedded deeply and permanently in my brain, and it is just too much for me to bear alone. What can you do to help me, Doctor? I have become a man who knows too much.
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