Unk tells a story to his two nephews about the time when he and Joe visited the stone-covered grave and haunted cabin of Mad Dick where they (and their dog, Soxie) were able to view the prehistoric past through a queer looking instrument that accidentally allowed T. Rex onto Slumber Mountain. Sadly, at the end, Unk suggests that it was all a dream, but what does he know?!

The IMDb lists Herbert M. Dawley as a co-writer, but Wikipedia lists him as only the producer. The initial three-reel film premiered at the Strand Theater, but an unhappy Dawley cut it from over 40 minutes to about 12. Around six extra minutes were later restored by the Dinosaur Museum of Blanding, Utah, in 2016, but the full version no longer exists.

Years ago, engineer Bill Webster abandoned Earth for the employ of the piratical Astrarch far beyond the orbit of Mars; now the Astrarch is aiming the final blow at a defeated Earth, and Bill wonders whether the gun sights he invented can spot—and change!—events in the past.

A jilted man plans murderous revenge while trying to avoid any behavior that would reveal his plans to the government’s all-seeing technology that can reconstruct the past from electromagnetic and sound waves.

Yep, the mirror that Harold Whitney got from an odd old man really does let you see what people will look like in the future—a situation that we’d normally mark as a mere time phenomenon and tag as a simple kind of chronoscope. But the story also has a twist at the end that makes me wonder whether the old man was also a time traveler.

This is a nice short story that touches briefly on one of my personal pet tropes, the time viewer, but which is really once again a paranoid sort of piece—it seems that people in the future live lives of complete leisure, so who is providing for us?

Apparently, Jennings agreed to work as a specialized mechanic for two years at Rethrick Construction, having his memory wiped at the end in return for 50,000 credits—except instead of a bag full of credits, the memory-wiped Jennings is left holding a bag of seven trinkets and no idea why he would have agreed to such a thing.

Paul Haines spends his days stewing over the money his 18th-centery ancestor wasted, until he realizes that there’s a way he can get it. I found the story oddly disquieting in that Paul never really faced punishment for his crime and he got the girl too boot—definitely not the usual weird fiction pattern, although I’ll still tag it that way.

While preparing for war against Bulavia, King Gustave of Translovia sees two visions of the future by way of a magnificent timepiece.

Zarrko, a mad time-machine-building scientist from 2262, believes that our nuclear weapons will enable him to take over the world of his time. He comes back to 1962 to steal one, and the Mighty Thor pursues him back to 2262.

The plot suffers from Alpha Centauri syndrome, where the time traveler might as well be from Alpha Centauri as from the future, but seeing the emergence of Kirby’s high-perspective artwork gives this issue a boost. In addition, the story provides a powerful image of the pre-Vietnam cold war era and its prevailing assumptions about the roles of women in society.

Professor Tarantoga saves human civilization! After using his chronopad to investigate the leading scientists and artists in history, Tarantoga concludes that without exception they are lazy drunkards. So naturally, he sends smart young people into various eras to invent differential calculus, to paint the Mona Lisa, etc.—all while a pair of police inspectors have their eye on him.

Using their time viewer, three scientists see a desolate landscape 107 years in the future, at which point the electrician realizes that the viewer has unexpectedly become a portal. All four jump through, only to have the portal collapse behind them, whereupon they are chased on the surface by Morlockish creatures who are afraid of thrown rocks, and they meet an advanced, post-apocalyptic, underground society that employs androids and is planning a generation-long trip to Alpha Centauri.

The film draws in at least four important additional time travel tropes: suspended animation, a single nonbranching, static timeline (with the corresponding inability to go back and change it), experiencing the passage of time at different rates, and a trip to the far future. And according to the SF Encyclopedia, the film was originally conceived as a sequel to the 1960 film of The Time Machine.

This story is as close as Spidey ever got to time traveling in the Silver Age. He didn’t travel himself, but he did meet and battle Kang’s time traveling Spider-Man robot. On top of that, Don Heck gave us his interpretations of Ditko art taken from the pages of the Amazing Spider-Man Annual #1. Can you tell which is which?

Sabrina takes Salem into the future to find out her fate after gangster Mickey Brentwood finds out that she’s writing an exposé on his shady practices.

Unlike Philip K. Dick’s story of the same name, the film has only viewing the future rather than physical time travel such as the story’s time scoop’s retrieval capability. Also, the film omits Dick’s dystopian police state and his theme of fate via what appears (in the story) to be a single static timeline. On the other side of the coin, the filmmakers made an epic car chase scene, took Jenning’s female sidekick off the sidelines, and attempted to massively raise the stakes via some questionable choices by Jennings.

In the cartoon version of the short story, Henry imagines that his time machine is an elaborate time ship, at least until his perfect little brother brings him out of his daydream and back to the real world of cardboard.

Imagine you’re a young boy in 1921 Cambridge when your equally young first love dies in a deep well. What would you do? Naturally, you’d vow to become a great scientist in an artsy movie so you could go back in time to alter the tragic event.

Apparently, people in early 20th-century Cambridge espouse many wise thoughts about time, parallel universes that encompass every possible combination of events again and again, and something about every decision every made creating a branch point. In the end, it's difficult to make a cohesive model of time from the plotline of Dimensions, but we tried our best to do so in our plot notes.