Upon first meeting Hempstead in the bar, Mr. Bevis asks "And who might you be?" Hempstead corrects him, saying "Whom. Objective case." In fact, Mr. Bevis already had it right. Apparently even angels make mistakes.
In the early scene when Bevis tumbles down the stairs of his apartment, a little boy watches and then holds his hands over his eyes. In the next shot, the boy is shown walking outside, but then the camera cuts and he is shown back inside, his hands still over his eyes.
When all of the neighborhood children push Bevis's car for him, one of them looks directly into the camera.
Bevis: (to the cop investigating the wreck of his beloved Rickenbacker car) Officer, you wouldn't be interested in purchasing a Rickenbacker, would you? It's a late '24...
Officer: (somewhat cynical) No, thanks. I kind of got my eye on a '27 Maxwell, but I'm going to wait until the new models come out, because that way, I can get a better deal...
Bevis: (to his guardian angel) But have you ever driven a 1924 Rickenbacker?
Hempstead: My dear Bevis, I've driven a chariot with eleven horses. I'm the guy responsible for Ben-Hur winning!
Narrator: Mr. James B.W. Bevis, who believes in a magic all his own. The magic of a child's smile, the magic of liking and being liked, the strange and wondrous mysticism that is the simple act of living. Mr. James B.W. Bevis, species of twentieth-century male, who has his own private and special Twilight Zone.
Narrator: In the parlance of the twentieth century, this is an oddball. His name is James B.W. Bevis, and his tastes lean toward stuffed animals, zither music, professional football, Charles Dickens, moose heads, carnivals, dogs, children, and young ladies. Mr. Bevis is accident prone, a little vague, a little discombooberated, with a life that possesses all the security of a floating crap game. But this can be said of our Mr. Bevis: without him, without his warmth, without his kindness, the world would be a considerably poorer place, albeit perhaps a little saner. Should it not be obvious by now, James B.W. Bevis is a fixture in his own private, optimistic, hopeful little world, a world which has long ceased being surprised by him. James B.W. Bevis, on whom Dame Fortune will shortly turn her back, but not before she gives him a paste in the mouth. Mr. James B.W. Bevis, just one block away from the Twilight Zone.
Rod Serling originally intended this episode as a pilot for a series entitled Bevis. He envisioned Burgess Meredith in the title role, but when Meredith turned it down, Serling decided to film it as a one-shot Twilight Zone episode with Orson Bean as Bevis.
This is one of a few episodes that feature a different opening title sequence (the camera zooms in on a large, live human eye) and narration.
Included on volume 39 of Image-Entertainment's DVD collection.
Of Mice and Men:
When he is fired, Bevis comments, "The best-laid plans of mice and men... and Bevis." This is a misquote from Robert Burns's poem, To a Mouse, which is often quoted as, "The best-laid plans of mice and men go oft awry."