Matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard is in the drawing room of the great house of Collinwood, studying a horoscope that astrologer Sebastian Shaw prepared for her. Liz’ daughter Carolyn asks what the horoscope says will happen today. Liz responds that it predicts the day will pass without incident. She adds that the horoscope has made the same prediction about each of the last several days, and that it has been right so far. The audience can agree with Liz’ assessment of the last several episodes, though we might wonder at what the makers of the show were thinking when they chose to make this explicit.
Carolyn is struck by the fact that Sebastian looks just like her late husband Jabe, whom she and others insisted on calling Jeb. So much so, in fact, that they are played by the same actor. Jabe died some time ago, and Sebastian has already denied that he rose from the grave. But two years ago Carolyn’s friend Vicki met her own late fiancé, an unpleasant man called Peter, after he had come back to life. Vicki found that Peter had lost his memory, refused to believe anything he told her about their past, and wanted to be known as Jeff. After several tedious months Peter/ Jeff admitted his true identity and he and Vicki went away and stopped bothering us. So Carolyn has grounds for hoping that the astrologer is not merely Sebastian, but will turn out to be Seb/ Jeb. We are forcefully reminded of Peter/ Jeff when Carolyn picks up the telephone to call Sebastian. She is standing next to a sculpture of a horse. The camera zooms in on that part of a horse which Peter/ Jeff brought to mind every time we saw him.
Memories of Peter/ Jeff.
When Carolyn makes the call, she says “I’d like to speak with Sebastian Shaw, please.” When Liz commissioned her horoscope, she went to Sebastian’s apartment, which was clearly his only premises. He is a prickly sort, unlikely to let a visitor answer his telephone for him, so this line suggests that someone else has regular access to Sebastian’s place. Nothing we have seen so far has given us a hint who this might be.
Sebastian is alone when Carolyn calls on him. She asks him where he is from. He says that he is from New York City, then asks why she is so inquisitive. Liz told him that he looks remarkably like Jeb, so Carolyn could easily answer that she wonders if he might be related to him. That would put him on the defensive if he withheld the basic facts about himself. But Carolyn simply says that she was idly curious, giving him an opportunity to shut her down immediately. Longtime viewers know that Jeb was originally a formless monster from beyond space and time and therefore had no relatives in the usual sense. But Carolyn doesn’t know that, and even if she did she would have no reason to suspect that Sebastian knew it.
Meanwhile, teenagers David Collins and Hallie Stokes are falling under the influence of some ghosts who resemble them as strongly as Seb resembles Jeb. Longtime viewers may not believe that this contradicts Sebastian’s prediction that nothing noteworthy would happen, since it is a rehash of a story we saw eighteen months ago, when David and his friend Amy fell under the influence of some other ghosts and, as in that story, they keep going in circles as to how they feel about it and what they should do.
In the course of The Re-Haunting of Collinwood, a mysterious room sometimes materializes in a disused part of the great house. Hallie goes to that room today. She sees David wearing clothes from the 1840s and making vigorous use of a rocking horse. She talks to him, but he does not respond to her at all. She gets steadily more upset. She turns and leaves the room, exclaiming “All right then!” as she does so. In the hallway outside, she then sees David, wearing his usual clothes and smiling at her. She gasps in amazement.
My wife, Mrs Acilius, said that this closing could have been a lot more effective had Kathleen Cody read a single line differently. Hallie’s mounting agitation as the person whom she believes to be David so totally ignores her is fine, but if at the end of it she had just relaxed a little and said “All right then” in a quiet voice, she would have had somewhere to go when Hallie sees David in the hallway. As it is, she is already at maximum tension, so her gasp adds nothing to the scene.
The mysterious room is stocked with toys and known as “The Playroom.” The fans often complain that the toys are meant for kids much younger than Hallie and David. When David Henesy joined the cast of Dark Shadows in 1966, he was nine and could pass for six; by this point he is about to turn fourteen and could pass for sixteen. Miss Cody is at this point about to turn sixteen, and looks about that age. It is not likely that a person their age would take much interest in a rocking horse, or a miniature carousel, or a stuffed animal. But as Mrs Acilius points out, that is as it should be. We are not supposed to like this situation. It is unsettling that teenagers would become fascinated with those things, and that is the point. The ghosts were the ages David and Hallie are now when they died, and evidently they were hung up on the toys in The Playroom; that suggests that they represent some kind of arrested development, that even when they were alive they were stuck in the past. If Hallie and David are going to have a future, they will have to break free of the ghosts and everything they stand for.
The ghost of Daphne Harridge wants to kill Quentin Collins, for no reason the show divulges to us; then she doesn’t, again for no reason we can see. Daphne insists teenager David Collins and Hallie Stokes not look at her, then insists they do look at her. David refuses to join hands with Hallie and Daphne to gain mystical knowledge, then demands Hallie join hands with him in a séance. Quentin is under Daphne’s power and unable to assist Julia Hoffman in her quest to free the great house of Collinwood from the hauntings; then he orders Julia to attend him while he performs an exorcism of the house.
In his post about the episode on his great Dark Shadows Every Day, Danny Horn said everything I wanted to say about how unsatisfying all of this is. The show has had its ups and downs. I call this segment The Re-Haunting of Colllinwood, because the A story from December 1968 to March 1969 is often called The Haunting of Collinwood and this is a recycling of that. The original Haunting of Collinwood was itself pretty slow-paced and frequently got bogged down with ominous games of dress-up. This time around the pace is again slow and the rounds of dress-up are even more tedious.
It is somewhat interesting to listen to Quentin reciting traditional Christian formulas as he conducts the exorcism. When we first got to know him, Quentin was a devout and enthusiastic Satanist. I suppose all religions lose adherents from time to time.
Quentin Collins and David Collins are under the influence of the unspeaking ghost of Daphne Harridge. Quentin and David each fret about their inability to resist Daphne, to understand their own actions, or to tell each other or anyone else what is going on. Since Daphne is herself a total enigma at this point, the audience learns nothing when these characters are on screen.
Barnabas Collins and Julia Hoffman know that Daphne is associated with an impending catastrophe. They are trying to learn about her as part of their efforts to prevent this catastrophe. Since Daphne will not allow either David or Quentin to give them any information, they are helpless.
The episode ends with Daphne about to stab Quentin in the back. This is not much of a cliffhanger. Quentin is 100 years old, but has the body of a 30 year old because of a magic spell that also makes him impervious to physical injury. Daphne can stab him all day and all night, and all that will happen is that his enchanted portrait will get a little grislier.
There is some business about a photograph David took. We saw this photograph in #1064, when there was some dispute about whether one of the ghosts was visible in it. Today David shows it to Quentin and asks him if he sees a face in it. Quentin says that it does look like a face, but he thinks it’s just an optical illusion created by the sunlight on some leaves. We imagine that the face will be a subtle thing, as it would have to be if it were somewhere in the photograph we saw in #1064, but when they show it to us later the face is as prominent as any other feature of the image. The result is an insult to the audience’s intelligence.
The original photograph, as seen in #1064.The photograph as presented today.
The ghost of Daphne Harridge, who died in 1841, gives a bunch of lilacs to Quentin Collins, who immediately falls in love with her. Quentin himself died a couple of times before gaining eternal youth in 1897, so he and Daphne have more in common than you might think.
Carolyn Stoddard Hawkes is half convinced that a local man named Sebastian is actually her dead husband returned to life, mainly because he is played by the same actor. They did this same story in 1968, when well-meaning governess Victoria Winters was convinced that a local man named Jeff was actually her dead boyfriend come back to life. That time around the story was a total non-starter, because it was obvious that Vicki was right. This time it is unclear whether Carolyn is right. It is also unclear what difference it would make if she were, since Carolyn’s husband was entirely exhausted as a source of story development when he died and Sebastian is a clown.
Daphne’s ghost has been appearing to grouchy New England teen David Collins longer than she has been appearing to Quentin, and the two of them are keeping their connections with her secret from each other. They themselves don’t know why. They don’t actually have motivations- it’s the influence of the ghosts holding them back. The ghosts, you see, have a deal with the writers to keep the story from moving faster than they planned when they made up the flimsies for these thirteen weeks.
David borrows Quentin’s camera and takes some pictures at a picnic. He develops the pictures in his darkroom. (Yes, David has a darkroom but no camera.) It is a picture Carolyn had in #1064, set in 1995, 25 years after the present. Carolyn was a crazy woman then, living in the aftermath of a catastrophe that is due to strike the estate of Collinwood later in 1970. Housekeeper Mrs Johnson said that the picture was taken “the first time we saw him,” and Carolyn tore it up. David tells Carolyn today that the picture gives him a sense of dread, and she doesn’t know what he is talking about. But we see the malign ghost that ruled the house in 1995 standing in the background behind them.
The picnic scene is the first attempt they have made in a while to represent an outdoor setting in the daytime, and it is executed quite well. It is preceded by a still of a wooded scene that I don’t believe we’ve seen before. We had some fresh stills of the Moon the other day; it’s nice that they are giving us new images of the outdoors, even if they are not motion pictures.
Sunny day.
Also, Carolyn eats a little food today. She ate some grapes one day in the 1995 segment. People ate on camera quite often in the first six months of Dark Shadows, but I believe these are the first two instances of characters taking solid nourishment in front of us since then.
In a bit of Collinsport English we’ve heard before, Quentin refers to another Collins named Quentin, one who was alive when Daphne was, as his “great-grand-uncle.” “Grand-uncle” is not unknown in American English, but it is far less common than “great-uncle.”
Grouchy New England teen David Collins and his live-in girlfriend Hallie Stokes go to a playroom for small children that intermittently manifests itself in a space otherwise occupied by a linen closet in the west wing of the great house of Collinwood. Hallie is possessed by the spirit of a girl named Carrie, who died in 1841. David hasn’t caught on that Hallie isn’t herself, and in his exasperation he asks her to “stop acting like the world’s number-one weirdo.” Carrie is puzzled by the word “weirdo.” She recognizes it as a derivative of “weird,” but claims that “the addition of the letter O makes it completely incomprehensible.” Evidently Carrie wasn’t all that quick on the uptake. If someone called me a “peculiar-Z,” I might not know why the letter Z was added, but it would be perfectly clear to me what they were saying. Historians of American English often say that the 1830s and 1840s were the single busiest period for the invention of new slang terms the USA has ever seen, so that if Carrie were as stumped by the “O” on “weirdo” as she claims to be, she would likely have been unable to conduct a conversation with many of her contemporaries.
David’s realistic 1970 dialogue and Carrie’s antiquated verbiage bounce off each other to produce some intentional comedy; my wife, Mrs Acilius, thought the scene was really funny. It is certainly more appealing than the rest of the episode, which is yet another series of events that take place only because the characters cannot bring themselves to tell each other what’s going on. Because the ghosts won’t let them, yes yes yes, we’ve been through all that many times before. The fansites seem bored enough by the whole thing that one of biggest points of discussion is whether it is reasonable to say that, because a bit of Grayson Hall’s slip is visible under her skirt at one point, we can say that we see her “underwear.” I guess the slip is “underwear” in the sense that she is wearing it under something else, and it probably wasn’t supposed to be visible, but you’d have to be a very specific kind of person to get excited about it.
Feast your eyes, pervs.
Hall plays Julia Hoffman, MD. Julia is a psychiatrist, among other things. She tells Quentin Collins that the ghost of Daphne Harridge, a governess who like her charge Carrie died in 1841, fills the room with the scent of lilacs when she is near. Quentin is so obviously lying when he tells Julia that he has not smelled that scent that we are probably supposed to assume that Julia is onto him.
We come to the end of the first week of The Re-Haunting of Collinwood, a rehash of a story that they got all the good out of when they did it the first time in December 1968 to March 1969.
The story isn’t going anywhere we haven’t been before, but there is some good stuff in this one. Kathleen Cody does an excellent job of acting as teen Hallie Stokes, brooding and subtle as she protests to her friend David Collins about the strangeness of their situation. Miss Cody had a very bad day at the office yesterday, and it is good to see what she can do.
As David, David Henesy commits one of the more memorable bloopers when he is supposed to tell Hallie that “We need a lot more clues” to figure out what is going on, but actually says “We need a lot more cues.”
Director Lela Swift, a gifted visual artist, outdoes herself at several points. I would particularly mention exceptionally fluid shot when Barnabas Collins and Julia Hoffman are in the foreground, in the doorway of the drawing room, and Quentin Collins approaches the through the foyer. Quentin’s loose-limbed, swinging motion combines with Barnabas and Julia’s intensely static pose to create a sense of rapid movement within strict boundaries.
There is some new stock footage of the Moon illustrating a solar eclipse; even though the final shot shows the Moon sprouting a corona at totality, it is so refreshing to see color pictures in this context that we can write that off.
The eclipse itself fulfills one of the cryptic clues a future version of Barnabas’ distant cousin Carolyn gave him, that something important would happen on “The night of the Sun and the Moon.” A lunar eclipse is a night of the Sun and the Moon, all right, but it is not at all all clear that anything that happens today would have struck Carolyn as especially noteworthy, even if she were in today’s episode.
While he is watching the eclipse, Quentin says that he is sad about his great-grandson and great-grand-daughter, Chris and Amy Jennings, and Chris’ fiancée Sabrina Stuart. Chris inherited an old curse of Quentin’s and was a werewolf. Quentin has managed to escape the effects of that curse, and also of aging, but no one could find a way to help Chris. Some time ago, when the show was set in an alternate universe where Barnabas and Julia were staying, Chris, Amy, and Sabrina left. All Quentin says is that he was sorry to see them go “that way.” We never hear a reference to any of them again.
Chris’ storyline ran out of road several months ago, and he was Sabrina’s only connection. So it would be no surprise that they are gone, even if actor Don Briscoe’s health problems had not overwhelmed him. We’re free to believe that Sabrina took Chris to a big farm in the country where he could play with the other werewolves. Amy was so central to the original Haunting of Collinwood segment in 1968 and 1969 that it would be impossible to pretend there was anything new about the Re-Haunting if she were around, so her departure was also inevitable.
For the first six months of Dark Shadows, reclusive matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard kept the story from moving by refusing to tell anyone what she knew about the major storylines. With the introduction of undead blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins in #123, the show became a supernatural thriller. The characters driving the new storylines took care to exclude Liz from the action by never letting her find out what was going on.
Now, old world gentleman Barnabas Collins and mad scientist Julia Hoffman have returned to 1970 after a visit to 1995. They have told Liz and others what they saw in that future year, warning that a terrible disaster is impending that will destroy the great house of Collinwood and everyone in it. Julia and Barnabas are not sure just what will happen or when, but they know it will occur before the year is out and that it will center on teenagers David Collins and Hallie Stokes.
The adults have decided to keep the relevant information from Hallie and David themselves. That’s the whole problem today- a series of uncanny events occur that David and Hallie would recognize as signs of the disaster and about which they would be able at least to sound the alarm had they been given the relevant information. Since they have been kept in the dark, they are helpless and the events are pointless.
Not only are the characters not learning from each other, Liz and David have forgotten a great deal that they used to know. From the first week of the show, David was on intimate terms with the ghosts of Collinwood. But today he mentions to Hallie that when he saw a ghost he was not afraid, and he cannot understand why he wasn’t afraid. Liz’ daughter Carolyn mentions that she found Hallie wearing an antique dress. Liz responds that putting on an antique dress can hardly precipitate the kind of disaster Barnabas is talking about. Yet precisely the kind of disaster Barnabas is talking about already befell Collinwood in March 1969, and the first step towards it came when David and his friend Amy Jennings played dress-up, wearing antique clothes under the influence of the malign ghost who would eventually drive everyone out of the great house.
At moments, the script seems to acknowledge that the whole episode is a waste of time. Liz asks Carolyn if she believes in astrology. Carolyn says she doesn’t believe in anything, so she might as well pay attention to her horoscope. It’s no more meaningless than anything else.
The opening scene, in which David and Hallie spend what seems like an hour hanging around the gazebo and talking about the fact that she doesn’t remember putting on her dress, is particularly bad. I’m reluctant to complain about any of the actors, since the conditions under which they had to work were extremely difficult. I’m especially reluctant to single out performers like Kathleen Cody, who gets a lot of negative comment from fandom. But she is very bad in this scene, just terrible, loud and fake and hard to put up with. Not that I can see what anyone could have done to make the scene interesting, but the situation is so slight it cannot for one moment bear the emotional load Miss Cody piles on it.
There are a few moments of unintentional comedy today revolving around wardrobe. David wears a sweater over a sports shirt and a pair of trousers with the belt fastened somewhere above his navel. David Henesy is in his late 60s now; he still isn’t old enough to wear that outfit. But combined with David’s grouchy attitude, the costume makes him seem like some old guy from New England.
Chris Pennock shows up as astrologer Sebastian Shaw. Sebastian’s costume was bizarre even by the very generous standards of 1970. John and Christine Scoleri labeled some of its more unusual features in their post about it at Dark Shadows Before I Die:
The utter preposterousness of Sebastian’s getup goes some way towards relieving another bad taste in the mouths of longtime viewers. Pennock also played Carolyn’s late husband Jabe, whom everyone insisted on calling Jeb. When Carolyn first sees Sebastian, she is shocked at the resemblance. The show first went all-in on its repertory approach to casting in November 1967, when well-meaning governess Vicki traveled back in time to the 1790s. She found that the characters she met in that epoch were played by actors she knew from the first 73 weeks of the show, and tried everyone’s patience by telling them about their previous parts. That unbelievably stupid habit marred the 1790s segment and utterly destroyed the audience’s interest in Vicki. Carolyn’s recognition that Pennock was Jeb before he was Seb brings that unpleasant memory back, and any distraction from it is welcome.
At one point Liz finds David standing over Hallie while she is in bed in the small hours of the morning. Liz demands to know what he’s doing there, and is particularly indignant that he is “still dressed.” Mrs Acilius and I laughed out loud at that. It’s better he should be naked?
Old world gentleman Barnabas Collins and his friend, Dr Julia Hoffman, MD, have returned to 1970 after an inexplicable journey through time. During a sojourn in 1995, they learned that a mysterious disaster is about to befall the great house of Collinwood. They have told several people about this disaster and withheld the information from several others.
Among those Julia and Barnabas have told is matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard. We see Liz in the drawing room discussing the matter with governess Maggie Evans. Maggie is hurt that Barnabas hasn’t seen her since he returned. When Barnabas departed, there was a story brewing about a possible romance between him and Maggie; we might have thought the show would have forgotten this narrative thread, and some fans would prefer it had done so. But evidently it isn’t quite gone yet.
Among those Barnabas and Julia have not told is grouchy New England teen David Collins. David enters the room as Liz and Maggie are talking about the idea that something might happen. He says that something is happening, all right. Liz asks what it is and he says he will tell them what he knows if they tell him what they know. Liz huffily declares that the matter at hand has to do with a theory he could not possibly understand, and that she knows he could not understand it because she doesn’t understand it, either. Unimpressed by this logic, David stands his ground. He says it’s time they stop treating him like he is four and a half years old. Liz tells him that if he knows something they ought to know, he should tell them about it. How he is supposed to know what they ought to know when they won’t tell him anything is unclear. The exchange ends in a stalemate.
Julia and Barnabas have also tried to keep the relevant information from the other teen in the house, Hallie Stokes. Hallie eavesdropped on a conversation yesterday and picked up some ominous-sounding remarks with no context. David had a dream that night in which he saw Hallie wearing an old-fashioned long orange dress with puffy sleeves. Later, the same dress materialized on Hallie’s bed.
What neither Hallie nor David knew was that Barnabas and Julia saw that dress in 1995. The girl wearing it looked exactly like Hallie, but was named Carrie. She danced a minuet at the gazebo on the grounds of Collinwood with a boy who looked exactly like David but was named Tad.
When Hallie sees the dress at the beginning of today’s episode, she wonders how it got there. Maggie knocks on the door and Hallie hides it under her bedclothes. After Maggie goes, Hallie wonders why she didn’t just ask her about it. Longtime viewers have seen enough supernatural storylines start on Dark Shadows to know that a compulsion to withhold information is often the first step towards doom. It is frustrating that Liz, who has been central to the show since episode 1 premiered on 27 June 1966, hasn’t learned that lesson yet and applied it to her dealings with David.
David goes to Hallie’s room and tells her about his dream. She says that lots of boys dream about her; he says that unlike the others, he tried to go back to sleep afterward. David doesn’t specify what the other boys are doing with the image of Hallie in the middle of the night, but he lets her draw the conclusion that she isn’t up to his standards in that wise. When he tells her about the dress, she freaks out and accuses him of playing tricks on her. He doesn’t know what she’s talking about and doesn’t care enough about her to stick around until she clarifies it. He grumbles that he’ll never understand women and stalks off.
Later, David gets a note telling him to go to the gazebo at midnight. He sees Hallie emerge from the bushes, wearing the dress. He suddenly realizes that she is not Hallie at all. Carrie has made her appearance.
The gazebo set is decorated with an armillary sphere that is prominently featured today. From the first appearance of this doodad in #737, we might have wondered if the show was going to incorporate astrology into its stories. Two of the cryptic phrases Julia and Barnabas collected as clues during their visit to 1995 were “the night of the sun and the moon” and “the unfinished horoscope,” indicating that the time is coming for this to occur.
Liz is in a strange quiet mood today; Joan Bennett plays her very deep. She speaks softly, rarely makes eye contact, and often gives little signs of deep, somber thought. She mutters to Maggie that no one can know the future, “unless…” When Maggie asks unless what, she refuses to answer.
Liz telephones a man named Sebastian Shaw, who is wearing a piece of clothing that was ridiculous even by the standards of 1970. Actor Chris Pennock would later say that he retained absolutely no memory of ever having played a character named Sebastian; if I had worn that garment on national television, I think I would have blocked out the recollection as well.
Sebastian gets very prickly when people do not accept him as a serious professional. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.
Sebastian is an astrologer. He agrees to cast a full horoscope for the rest of 1970 for Liz. Since Barnabas and Julia told Liz that an unfinished horoscope is one of the signs that doom is near, it would seem rather bold of her to start an astrologer casting an elaborate chart.
Teen orphan Hallie Stokes has gone to stay in the great house of Collinwood, a logical place for her since an ancestor of hers was an indentured servant there 174 years ago. I’m not sure where my ancestors were indentured servants 174 years ago, but now that I know the information comes with free room and board in mansions you can bet I’ll be looking into it.
Hallie was eavesdropping on a conversation among some adults in the drawing room. Old world gentleman Barnabas Collins recently returned from an inexplicable journey through time and space with warnings of an undefined disaster that will be happening later in this year, 1970. Hallie has gone to visit the other teenager in the house, grouchy New Englander David Collins. David greets her with a warning that if his governess catches them alone in his bedroom after dark, “I’m in for it.” David has been on the show from week one, and this indication that there are rules against him having sleepovers with girls is the first acknowledgment that he is not a small child.
Hallie reports on the conversation she heard, much to David’s irritation. She then says she can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching her. At that, Barnabas’ voice comes from the door asking who she thinks is watching her. She is afraid of Barnabas and wants to get back to her own room as quickly as possible. That’s a sign of healthy instincts, since Barnabas is a vampire, but he really did find evidence that a disaster is coming and he really is trying to save everyone by preventing it. He lets Hallie go, and bids a relaxed good night to David.
When Barnabas and his friend, Dr Julia Hoffman, returned from the distant future year of 1995, the first people they met were matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard and roguishly handsome anomaly Quentin Collins. They told Liz and Quentin everything they knew right away, and today Barnabas gives another complete debriefing to Hallie’s uncle, Professor Timothy Eliot Stokes. So we might think that the characters have finally learned that keeping secrets unnecessarily just prevents people working together to solve their problems and we are finally going to let the story flow. But no such luck. Liz’ daughter Carolyn was a pivotal figure in 1995, but for no reason they bother to specify Barnabas decides to withhold all information from her today.
They do give a reason for Barnabas’ failure to tell Hallie anything about what he saw in 1995. Quentin told Barnabas yesterday that Hallie is psychologically fragile and couldn’t take any disturbing news. But since she just winds up eavesdropping and getting some alarming facts with no context and no indication that there is anything she can do to help the situation, this backfires. What is more, it was predictable it would happen. David scolds Hallie for eavesdropping, prompting her to point out that he is an inveterate eavesdropper himself. Everyone in the house has known this about David for four years, so there is simply no excuse for expecting that the adolescents will stay in the dark about what is being discussed in the drawing room.
Perhaps the oddest moment of the episode comes when Barnabas is talking to Stokes. He tells him that he and Julia saw Hallie’s ghost in 1995, looking exactly as she does now, suggesting that her death is imminent if she remains at Collinwood. Stokes, who seems remarkably cheerful about the whole thing, says with a bright smile “Perhaps I should take her away!” Barnabas says that no, “I wouldn’t do that.” He explains that it might upset Liz if they did so. Since he just told Liz the whole horrible story yesterday, it seems a bit late to make shielding her from distressing news one’s top priority, but Stokes goes along with it.
David has a dream in which Hallie is wearing an old-fashioned long orange dress with puffy sleeves. He does not know it, but this was the dress Julia and Barnabas saw a girl wearing in 1995. This girl was a ghost who looked exactly like Hallie but was named Carrie, and who danced a minuet with a boy who looked exactly like David but was named Tad. Later, Hallie finds Carrie’s dress laid out on her bed.
In late 1968 and early 1969, Quentin was an evil ghost who took control of David and his friend Amy Jennings as the first step towards driving everyone out of the house. In the course of that, there was a lot of monkey business about moving clothes in and out of closets. The original “Haunting of Collinwood” segment had its strengths and led to the trip back in time to 1897 that turned out to be Dark Shadows‘ greatest triumph. But the time spent worrying about where various items of clothing were being kept and why did not make for gripping television, and longtime viewers will wince to see that the incipient Re-Haunting of Collinwood is going to recapitulate that element.
Quentin Collins comes to the drawing room of the great house of Collinwood to deliver some bad news to his distant cousin, Elizabeth Collins Stoddard. He was peering into the room in the east wing of the house through which an alternate universe is occasionally visible. He saw the room as it is in that other timeline, engulfed in smoke and occupied by a young woman calling the name “Barnabas.” Since Liz and Quentin’s distant cousin, Barnabas Collins, and Barnabas’ dear friend Julia Hoffman crossed over into the alternate universe some time ago and the aperture in the east wing is the only place where transits between the universes are known to be possible, Quentin proclaims to Liz that the “only conclusion” one can reach is that “we shall never see them again!” No sooner has he got those words out than the drawing room doors open to reveal Julia and Barnabas standing side by side, smiling happily, and saying “Elizabeth! Quentin! We’ve returned!”
One might think this would cure Quentin of the idea that he knows what the “only conclusion” is at which one might reasonably arrive, but no such luck. He tells Barnabas and Julia that today’s date is 3 August 1970. They say that was the date when they left the other universe, and that they then spent over a week in the year 1995, when they saw a bleak and horrifying future that resulted from a disaster that will occur later in 1970 unless they can somehow prevent it. Quentin says their experience in the future must have been an hallucination, because they can’t have come back to 3 August in one year from any date other than 3 August in another year. Julia and Barnabas share detailed recollections of their experience in the future, and have already met a living person in 1970 whom they saw for the first time as a ghost in 1995, but this argument shakes their confidence.
Quentin’s claim, nonsensical as it is to new viewers, actually does fit in with a notion the show has been developing since it first committed to being a supernatural thriller in late 1966 and early 1967. Since the laws of nature that science studies do not apply, they have to find other predictive models that will make it possible to build suspense. So they had well-meaning governess Victoria Winters figure out that women named Laura Murdoch incinerated their young sons named David at intervals of “exactly one hundred years!!!,” and therefore that Laura Murdoch Collins would soon present a mortal danger to her young son David Collins.
From that point on, the power of anniversaries has been a tremendously potent force in the metaphysics of Dark Shadows. Barnabas traveled back to the 1790s in #661 by going to a grave on the anniversary of its occupant’s death and shouting at the deceased for a while (shouting is also a potent metaphysical force.) Quentin himself first joined the cast of characters as the malevolent ghost of a man who died in 1897 and in 1968 and 1969 returned to haunt Collinwood, kill several people, and drive the survivors from the house. Barnabas traveled back to 1897 and bungled around until someone else changed history to prevent Quentin dying or even aging. On the anniversary of that change, the haunting broke, just in time to allow David to return from the dead. But when Quentin showed up as a living being late in 1969, everyone who had lived through the ten months of the haunting remembered it. So apparently the reality of Dark Shadows is a composite of all the various, mutually inconsistent timelines, and the consequences of the actions not taken are just as real as are those of the ones taken. The power of anniversaries is the thread that binds these unmatched events into a cosmic crazy quilt.
As the aperture between universes was a door to a room in the east wing, so the aperture from 1995 to 1970 was a door inside a room in the west wing. Barnabas and Julia were trapped in a mysterious playroom there when the ghost of a blonde teenager known to them as Carrie appeared, beckoned to them, and walked through the wall. A moment later, a door materialized in the spot through which Carrie had exited. Julia and Barnabas went through the door and found themselves on a staircase. They followed the staircase to another door. It was the door through which they had entered the playroom, but the corridor outside was in good repair, not in ruins as it was in 1995. They saw a girl there who appeared to be Carrie, though she was wearing different clothes, was alive, and demanded to know who they were.
Barnabas and Julia gave the girl their thanks for her help, and she repeated that she had no idea who they were or what they were talking about. She said that she was not named Carrie, but Hallie, Hallie Stokes, niece of Professor Timothy Eliot Stokes. She told them Liz was in the drawing room, Liz’ brother Roger was in Europe, and the year was 1970.
Later, Julia questions Hallie about some names and phrases she heard in 1995. Grayson Hall delivers all of these questions as if she were playing a Gestapo interrogator in a very bad World War Two movie. Even when Hallie says it is her bedtime, Hall enunciates the lines “All right, Hallie. Good night” while standing rigidly still and peering at the girl from under a single ruffled eyelid, as if the next words were going to be “Dream uff ze Fazzerlahnt, und uff ze famlee you shtill haff zere!”
Hallie is terrified of Julia, a perfectly natural reaction which Grayson Hall seems to think she needed to explain by turning into a villain from Hogan’s Heroes. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.
The script calls for Hallie to hear something sinister in Julia’s voice, and Hall was an extraordinarily accomplished actress who should easily have been able to make us understand why a friendly series of questions might sound that way to a nervous person. This exaggerated performance cannot be explained as an ordinary failure. She also failed atypically last week when required to show that Julia was secretly under the control of the evil spirit. There was zero subtlety in her performance, leaving it inexplicable that Barnabas didn’t instantly catch on. Those episodes, like this one, were directed by Henry Kaplan, a hack. Kaplan’s idea of working with actors involved poking them with a stick and tying them up with gaffer tape. Hall’s misfires may not have been a protest against Kaplan’s brutishness and incompetence, but he certainly did not do anything to help her correct them.
When Julia and Barnabas left for the alternate universe, Quentin was still living somewhere in the village of Collinsport; it was implied Julia was paying his rent. At some point since, he has relocated to the great house. We see today that he has moved back into his old room. This is as hilarious for longtime viewers as was the instant refutation of Quentin’s claim that the only logical conclusion from the available facts is that they will never see Barnabas and Julia again. During the 1968-1969 “Haunting of Collinwood” segment, Quentin’s room served the same function the mysterious playroom served in the excursion to 1995 and in this incipient Re-Haunting of Collinwood. It was a place known at first only to the children, who visited it, fell under the power of the ghosts of its former occupants, and thereby became the instruments of general destruction. But he’s even brought his old stuff with him, including his haunted phonograph.
When we got to know Quentin as a living being during the eight months the show was set primarily in 1897, we saw that he had the same vices and the same appeal Roger had when he was introduced as a villain at the beginning of the series. Roger was eventually nerfed into a harmless snob who made sarcastic remarks and sipped brandy, and then reinvented again as an upright family man. Throughout those personality shifts, Roger continued to be one of the “Logical Explanation People.” No matter what he saw or experienced, he would reject any supernatural account and insist “There must be a logical explanation!” Quentin has followed Roger’s character progression to the point where he, a former student of black magic who conjured up demons from a fireplace, who turned into a zombie the first time he died and into a werewolf after he was resurrected, who died again and became a ghost, whose second death was then averted when he became half of a magical dyad including an enchanted oil painting, and who is now a hundred years old even though to all outward appearances he is about 30, is insisting that There Must Be a Logical Explanation.
As if that were not enough, when we see Quentin in his room he is wearing a dressing gown, an article of attire Roger favored in his first months on the show. Roger drifted to the margins of the action as he lost his capacity for villainy; he made his final appearance in #979. The show has had so much difficulty figuring out what to do with Quentin since it returned from 1897 that we may well fear he is headed for the same fate, and these resonances do nothing to assuage that fear.
Hallie comes in to see Quentin. She asks if Barnabas and Julia are good people. He hesitates to answer. He knows that Barnabas is a vampire and Julia is a mad scientist. Nonetheless, they are his friends, and he believes that they are motivated by a sincere desire to prevent the disasters they think they have foreseen. So he might answer truthfully by saying that they are locked in a three-way tie with him for the title of Most Dangerous Person You Have Ever Met, but that he likes them, and so long as Barnabas doesn’t start looking at her neck and Julia doesn’t try to strap her to a table and hook her up to an apparatus including Tesla coils she will probably survive her encounter with them. But he’s more interested in reassuring her than he is in adhering to strict literal accuracy, and so he says “Now look, now you listen to me. Barnabas and Julia are very fine people, and you don’t have to be afraid of them or of anything else. Now you believe that.” None of the other actors is having a good day at the office with this episode, but David Selby is on top form, and he delivers this little speech with a note of urgency that makes him sound like he is telling the truth, but with a panicked flicker in his eyes that makes it clear he is desperate for Hallie to accept a lie that might keep Julia and Barnabas from murdering her.
Hallie tells Quentin that she saw Barnabas and Julia emerge from a door in the west wing. He calls Barnabas to his room and tells him that since the aperture to the other universe is in the east wing, that causes Quentin to think there might be something to their story after all. Barnabas leads him to the door, and says that the playroom was behind it in 1995. Quentin says that there is no playroom there and never has been. Barnabas himself knew that full well when first he opened the door and saw the room in 1995, but for some reason is shocked today when sees that it is a linen closet. Quentin says that there cannot possibly ever be a playroom there, since the other wall is to the outside. Evidently it is perfectly in order for an entire alternate universe to intermittently fit into a room in the east wing, but the west wing doesn’t swing that way.
In his post about the episode on his great Dark Shadows Every Day, Danny Horn complains about Kathleen Cody’s performance as Hallie, claiming that she renders the next several weeks of the show unwatchable. I agree that in adopting a constant tone of freaked-out disbelief, Miss Cody made an acting choice that left her nowhere to go. If you’re already at the limit of the amount of bizarreness you can accept in your life, that’s it for you as a character on Dark Shadows.
I can see why Miss Cody thought that was the only way to go, though. This is her first substantive appearance on the show, and Quentin warns Barnabas not to tell anything disturbing to Hallie, because “She’s a very sensitive child… She frightens quite easily.” Everything else in the script reinforces the idea that Hallie is on the brink of a panic attack, so that’s how she plays it today. That’s the angle subsequent scripts are going to stick with, so I can see that Miss Cody felt she had no choice but to stay in the corner she had painted herself into.
When actors find themselves in a jam like that, a director might be expected to offer some kind of helpful guidance. That wasn’t going to happen with Henry Kaplan at the helm, and even principal director Lela Swift, an outstanding visual artist, was not an enthusiastic director of actors. John Karlen said that the only direction Lela Swift ever gave him was the single word “Go!” So once an actor took a wrong turn on Dark Shadows, they could find themselves trapped in a dead end. Many of the cast members who joined the show without much experience have spoken with gratitude about guidance they received from their veteran cast-mates; Karlen, Joan Bennett, Jonathan Frid, Clarice Blackburn, and Humbert Allen Astredo are most often mentioned as gifted teachers of acting. The only director any of the actors mentioned as a source of productive suggestions was John Sedwick, who left the show in June 1968. So unless Miss Cody could get some help from one of her cast-mates, it was very likely that her initial mistakes would doom her whole performance.
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