Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town, wants to be proud of her father, drunken artist Sam. That’s been difficult these last ten years, which he has spent establishing himself as the town drunk. It’s especially difficult this week, when Sam has admitted to her that he started drinking after he took a bribe from high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins to withhold evidence that might have kept dashing action hero Burke Devlin from going to prison.
Maggie comes home today to find Sam and Burke together. She bends down to Sam and asks if he told Burke. “Everything,” Sam replies. Maggie hugs him and says “I’m proud of you, Papa.” Her initial reaction is a flash of joy that the lying is over, but fear of what Burke will do with the information comes on immediately. There is one marvelous moment when we can see the smile on her lips and the fear in her eyes simultaneously. Maggie’s complex affect while telling Sam that she is proud of him fits the occasion. A confession of the sort Sam has made is an unusual thing for a daughter to be proud of, but as an Adult Child of an Alcoholic Maggie has learned to take pride where she can.
Maggie, happy and afraid
She turns to Burke and tries to convince him that Sam has punished himself enough already. Burke believes he spent five years in prison because of what Sam did, and is not impressed by Maggie’s pleas. He says that he wants to take his time before he decides what he will do to Sam and Roger.
At the great house of Collinwood, Roger is quarreling with seagoing con man Jason McGuire. Jason is blackmailing Roger’s sister, reclusive matriarch Liz, and forcing her to let him stay in the house. Roger finds Jason’s presence intolerable. When Roger tells Jason that he is a guest in the house, Jason tells Roger that it is Liz’ house, bringing up the fact that Roger is Liz’ guest as well. Humiliated by the reminder that he squandered his inheritance and reduced himself to a footing of equality with Jason, Roger adopts an even haughtier than usual manner.
Liz enters, and Roger and Jason present their cases to her. Jason’s first three conversations with Liz were iterations of the same dismal scene. The two of them are alone in the drawing room, he makes demands on her, she resists, he threatens to expose the secret he knows about her, she capitulates. Today, they are still in the drawing room, and the formal structure is the same. Still, Roger is with them. So the demands, the resistance, and the threat are expressed in more subtle language, and we see Liz struggling to conceal her emotions from Roger. So Round Four offers the audience a bit more dramatic interest than did Rounds Two and Three.
Liz and Jason do have a two-scene in the drawing room after Roger droops away towards bed. Jason demands that Liz stop Roger challenging him. Jason doesn’t quite threaten Liz over this, and she doesn’t capitulate. He insists that she say good night to him. She is looking away from him, her face in full view of the camera, showing us that the last thing she wants to do is say anything pleasant. At length, she gives in and says it. Her yielding on this apparently small point hits the audience as hard as did her bigger concessions in the first three confrontations. When he leaves her alone in the room, she slumps down, looking utterly defeated.
A knock comes at the door. Liz wearily trudges to answer it. When the caller identifies himself as Sam Evans having urgent business with Roger, she protests that it is the middle of the night and any business can wait until a decent hour. Sam insists, and she opens the door to implore him to go away and let her rest. Startled to see Burke, she takes a half step back, and Burke takes a step forward. She tries to close the doors on them, and Burke holds them open. She surrenders, letting them into the foyer, but continues to tell them they should make an appointment to see Roger in town tomorrow. Roger comes out to see what the noise is, and is shocked to see Burke and Sam together.
Yesterday’s episode ended with a powerful scene in which Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town, learned the terrible secret her father, drunken artist Sam Evans, has been keeping for the last ten years. Today begins with a reprise of that scene.
Sam has admitted that one night he saw a car barreling down the highway, swerving wildly from lane to lane. It hit and killed a man, then sped off. Sam could see the driver, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins. Dashing action hero Burke Devlin was passed out in the back seat, and Roger’s future wife, blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch, was also in the car. The night after the collision, Roger showed up at the Evans cottage and offered Sam $15,000 for some paintings.*
Sam tells Maggie that he knew this was a bribe to secure his silence. He explains that at that time, Maggie’s mother was very sick with the illness that would ultimately take her life, and that he had no way of earning enough money to meet even the family’s basic expenses. With the money from Roger, he was able to give Maggie’s mother everything he had always wanted her to have. The more Sam explains that he traded his conscience for money, the more Maggie looks down at herself and sees her waitress’ uniform. Apparently she can’t help thinking about where the household income has been coming from in the years since Sam’s big sale, and assessing Sam’s current contribution to their balance of expenses.
Maggie talks slowly, choosing her words with care and her themes with tact. She acknowledges that it would have been hard to refuse Roger’s money under the circumstances, and Sam exclaims that it would have been impossible. Maggie turns away with a look of distress, as if she suspects that another sort of person might have found it entirely possible to say no to Roger. She leaves that topic alone, and focuses on how shocked she is that Sam kept quiet when Burke was tried, convicted, and sentenced to five years in prison on the premise that he had been the driver.
Sam asks Maggie what he can do or say to regain her respect. She suggests he go to Burke and confess to him. Sam asks if she wants him to go to jail; she says no, of course she doesn’t want that. He swears he will quit drinking; wearily, she tells him she hopes he sticks with it this time. Eventually she stops responding to what he says, and just answers his pleas by announcing that she has a date to get ready for.
This exchange is divided into two scenes. The second begins with some repetition of points from the first, but that actually works to strengthen the drama- it shows us that Sam is desperate to find some way of making things right with Maggie that doesn’t involve volunteering for a prison sentence.** When Maggie has left for her date, we see Sam stew around for a moment. Finally, he picks up the telephone and calls Burke. By that time, we can see that he really has exhausted every possible alternative.
In between the two Sam/ Maggie scenes, we see Burke having dinner with well-meaning governess Vicki at Collinsport’s only night spot, The Blue Whale. Vicki is telling Burke everything she knows about the current doings at the great house of Collinwood. She is worried about reclusive matriarch Liz, who hasn’t been herself lately, and uncomfortable around Liz’ houseguest, seagoing con man Jason McGuire. Burke has never heard of Jason. As the Collins family’s sworn enemy, Burke of course listens attentively to all the intelligence Vicki has gathered. One does wonder what the Collinses think of their governess blabbing so much to Burke, who casually mentions in response to one of Vicki’s expressions of concern for Liz that he is trying to drive her out of business.
Jason shows up in the tavern and approaches Vicki. She introduces him to Burke. While they are exchanging pleasantries, a young man enters and smiles. He calls to Jason, who hastens away from Burke and Vicki to talk alone with him.
The young man leers at Vicki. Burke gets up and says he wants to confront the young man, but Vicki insists he sit back down. The young man continues leering at Vicki, and Jason pleads with him to stop. The man’s tone and bearing are threatening, and his habit of referring to himself in the third person while talking about the things to which “Willie” is entitled emphasizes the note of menace. When another customer brushes against him, Willie jumps up. Three men, Jason, Bob the bartender, and a background player*** restrain him from punching the guy. Burke and Vicki comment on Jason’s choice of friends.
Willie forlornly watches a man leave, taking with him his chance to beat him up
Actor James Hall does a fine job of showing Willie as a dangerously unstable man. His staring at Vicki unsettles everyone, a fact which seems to please him. As soon as he stops talking, the airy manner he adopts when he declares that his current lodgings are “not Willie’s style” or that “Willie is not a patient man,” disappears and his face settles into a look of depression. The brush that sets him off into his spasm of violence is so light and so brief as to be noticeable only in a prison laundry. When Jason, Bob, and the man from the background hold him and he realizes he has missed his chance to beat someone up, his rage at once gives way to a hollow look of yearning and sorrow, as if he is in mourning for the violence that might have been. He would be right at home on a cross-country killing spree, but it’s hard to see what use Jason would have for him. Jason is a con man and blackmailer, two forms of criminality that require the ability to gain some measure of trust from a victim, and no one would trust Hall’s Willie for even a fraction of a second.
If it turns out that Jason has more than one piece of compromising information on Liz, Willie might make sense. Let’s say that, when she and her long-absent husband lived together, they found themselves implicated in a number of Jason’s crimes, and some of those involved hyper-violent hoodlums. Then when Liz sees Willie, she might find herself falling back into an old trap and try to figure out a new way to free herself from it. But if all Jason knows about Liz is what he has threatened to reveal in his three conversations with her so far, Willie would seem to be an unsolvable puzzle.
Burke shows up at the Evans cottage and tells Sam that he received his message. Since Sam had told the clerk at Burke’s hotel that he was calling in connection with an emergency, Burke keeps pressing him to explain what he wanted to say. Sam keeps stalling. Despite his promise to Maggie a few minutes ago to quit drinking, his stalling involves a couple of shots of booze. Finally Sam screws up his courage and tells Burke everything. Burke declares “I knew it!”
**I am curious as to what Sam’s legal position would actually have been. He tells Maggie that neither he nor Roger said anything about the accident when he gave him the money; Sam simply assumed he was taking a bribe. Since Roger did receive the paintings, and famed art dealer Portia Fitzsimmons has told Sam that the paintings would now be worth a great deal of money, only Sam’s confession of his corrupt motive would suggest that he did anything ten years ago that it might be possible to prosecute him for. Besides, he never committed perjury or lied to law enforcement- he never said anything at all. It would seem the most they could have got him on at the time would have been failure to report an accident, and surely the statute of limitations on that misdemeanor would have expired after ten years.
His more recent behavior would seem to present a more serious problem. Ever since Burke came back to town in episode 1, Sam and Roger have been talking to each other about the accident and its aftermath, meeting in public places and confirming over and over that the money was a bribe. Moreover, Sam has spent the last few days blackmailing Roger, threatening to go to Burke unless Roger produces the paintings in time for him to have Portia Fitzsimmons show them in her gallery. Roger has not been able to find the paintings. So going to Burke, or even to the police, could be interpreted as an act in furtherance of Sam’s blackmail scheme, and therefore as itself felonious. It is no wonder that when Sam went to the telephone, my wife, Mrs Acilius, was shouting at the screen “Call a lawyer!”
***Who according to the Dark Shadows wiki worked under the name “Frank Reich.” Since “Frankreich” is the German name for France, I assumed that “Frank Reich” was an obvious pseudonym. But it turns out there are a number of people in the world whose actual given name is “Frank Reich,” some of them well-known, so who can say.
In the drawing room of the great house of Collinwood, seagoing con man Jason McGuire has his third conversation with reclusive matriarch Liz. It is identical in form and content to their first two conversations. He makes a demand, she resists, he threatens to expose her one and only secret, and she gives in.
Liz’ brother, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger, is also being blackmailed. His blackmailer is drunken artist Sam Evans. Unlike Jason, Sam is someone we know and have reason to like. And unlike Jason and Liz, Sam and Roger do not repeat the same conversation every time we see them.
Moreover, Jason is acting against the interests of the audience, while Sam is trying to achieve something we might like. Jason is working to isolate Liz and to drain her funds. Those goals reduce the range of stories the show can tell, limiting a major character’s interactions with the rest of the cast and cutting back on the power of the family at the center of the series from making things happen in town. Sam wants to get hold of some old paintings of his, which will give him a chance at making a big splash in New York. If Sam succeeds, future episodes will be set at least partly in the midtown Manhattan art world. That would be a radical departure from the show we’ve been watching, but a radical departure of some kind is inevitable if Dark Shadows is to keep going at all. Dark Shadows 1.0 finished its liveliest stories when blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins vanished two weeks ago, and if Dark Shadows 2.0 is going to hold our attention it is going to have to come up with something very fresh.
Ten years ago, Roger paid Sam $15,000 and received from him ten paintings. These paintings have suddenly become fashionable, and a prominent art dealer has come to Sam asking about them. The real reason Roger gave Sam the money was nothing to do with the paintings, but to bribe him. The paintings changed hands only to cover the bribe.
Sam had seen a fatal hit and run accident, and knew that Roger, not dashing action hero Burke Devlin, was the driver. Burke went to prison for the crime, and has been trying ever since to prove that Roger was responsible. Now Sam threatens to go to Burke unless Roger produces the paintings. Roger has been searching Collinwood for the paintings, but he cannot find them.
The highlights of the episode are two scenes between Sam and his daughter Maggie. In the first, we see Sam drinking and talking to himself while Maggie is in the room getting ready to go to work. Maggie knows that her father has a great opportunity and that the man who has the paintings is keeping him from realizing it. She doesn’t know who that man is. She keeps asking questions, and he keeps getting upset. He shouts “Are you going to work or aren’t you!?” Then he apologizes and tells her he didn’t mean to raise his voice. She says bitterly that she should be used to it by now. He tells her that what he’s doing, he’s doing for her, that if he succeeds she will get everything she has coming to her. She isn’t impressed, and doesn’t have much to say.
As Maggie, Kathryn Leigh Scott does a fine job of showing an Adult Child of an Alcoholic trying to distinguish between the challenges the outside world is presenting to her father and those he has brought on himself. She’s looking for a way to simultaneously be Sam’s ally against the man who is keeping the paintings from him and to stand firm as an opponent of his drinking. Above all, she is trying not to let her pity for him harden into contempt. As Sam, David Ford is alternately so self-absorbed he apparently forgets Maggie is in the room, so angry he doesn’t care what he says to her, and so hopelessly dependent on her that he all but transforms into a baby. When he is looking up at Maggie and telling her all he hopes to do for her, Sam looks for all the world like a toddler trying to keep his mommy from being angry with him. It’s a heartbreaking finish.
Their second scene is even more powerful. Maggie comes home from work to find a groggy Sam slumped in a low chair. Once he has come back to life, Sam tells her that the man was in the house while she was at work, and that he can’t find the paintings. He lets slip that the man lives in Collinwood. Maggie realizes that it must be Roger. Sam tries to deny it, but since Roger is the only man who lives there he is stuck. He can hardly claim that well-meaning governess Vicki, a 20 year old woman, was a man ten years ago, or that she paid $15,000 for ten paintings to put on display in her cubicle at the Hammond Foundling Home. He briefly claims that “Collinwood” was a slip of the tongue, but can’t keep that lie up.
Sam finally admits that Roger is the man. Maggie asks why Roger bought the paintings. Sam asks if she really wants to hear him say it. When she says she does, he starts to speak, but falls abruptly silent in the middle of a sentence. While he looks down in shame, she blurts out that he took the money as a bribe to keep silent about Roger’s crime and to consign Burke to prison. She has suspected this for some time, but is devastated to say the words and see her father’s face.
Of all the questions the two blackmail plots might prompt the show to answer, how Maggie and Sam’s relationship will change as the result of the disclosure of his secrets is the most interesting. So it should be no surprise these two scenes are among the strongest we’ve seen in months.
Closing miscellany:
At one point in the episode, we see Jason talking on the telephone to someone named “Willie.” This marks the first time we hear this name on Dark Shadows.
During a conversation with Roger, Jason sits at the piano and pokes at a few keys. This is the first time since flighty heiress Carolyn tried her hand at “Chopsticks” in #119 that a member of the cast makes use of the instrument.
Roger and Liz have a scene in the basement of Collinwood. Roger’s fear of blackmail leads him to hope that he might find Sam’s paintings in a locked room there, while Liz’ fear of blackmail leads her to forbid that anyone ever go into that room. When Roger asks Liz what is in there, she refers to her long-absent husband, Paul Stoddard: “They are… ah… old things of Paul’s. Yes, that’s it! I put his things in there.” This is so obviously a lie she is making up on the spot that we laughed out loud. Joan Bennett must have meant to elicit this reaction.
The two most senior members of the ancient and esteemed Collins family, reclusive matriarch Liz and her brother, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger, are both being blackmailed. At rise, Liz and her blackmailer, seagoing con man Jason McGuire, are having another version of the same conversation that took up most of yesterday, in which he makes demands, she resists, he threatens to expose her secret, and she gives in. Jason is a new character, connected to no one but Liz, and this is all we’ve seen him do. The actor is appealing, but not enough to make us want to see that scene a third time. When Liz and Jason summarize their relationship by telling each other “We’re stuck with it,” they give voice to a sinking feeling in the pit of the audience’s stomach.
Roger’s blackmailer is someone we know and care about. He is drunken artist Sam Evans. Sam took money from Roger years ago in exchange for keeping silent about evidence that Roger was responsible for a fatal hit-and-run, and to make the transaction look legitimate gave Roger some of his paintings. Now a powerful New York art dealer has told Sam that she can make him rich and famous if she shows those paintings in her gallery, and Sam is desperate to get them back. He threatens to take his information to dashing action hero Burke Devlin, who went to prison over the incident, unless Roger produces the paintings.
Roger spends today’s episode trying to find the paintings. His search takes him to the basement. There, he shines a flashlight directly into the camera.
Roger enters the basement with a halo
Shortly after, Jason comes to the basement, and Roger catches him fiddling with the lock on a room Liz insists no one ever enter. Roger shines his flashlight in Jason’s eyes. When Jason complains about that, we again see Roger shining the flashlight directly into the camera. We’ve seen actors shine flashlights into the camera so many times that it must be in some way intentional, but this is the first time there is dialogue to give the show an intelligible reason to do it.
Roger shining the light into Jason’s eyes, from Jason’s point of view
Jason won’t tell Roger what he is doing, but does say that he saw Liz’ husband, the never-seen Paul Stoddard, in that basement the night he disappeared. He then throws around some hints that there may have something untoward about Stoddard’s disappearance and that Liz may be hiding something about it. Later, he mentions to Liz that Roger doesn’t seem to know anything about the situation, suggesting that the hints were his attempt to test Roger.
Roger meets with Sam at the Blue Whale, the working-class bar where Sam spends his time (and, presumably, his daughter’s paychecks.) Roger can see that Sam is serious about his threat to go to Burke if the paintings do not materialize. Roger tells him that there is only one place he hasn’t searched. At the end of the episode, we see Roger back in the basement, trying to open the locked door.
These two blackmail stories have the potential to clear out all of the unresolved questions left over from Dark Shadows 1.0. Why is Liz a recluse, what happened the night Stoddard disappeared, what’s with the locked room in the basement, and what is the connection between Liz and the origins of well-meaning governess Vicki? Jason’s demands on Liz might answer all of these questions. How will Burke react when he learns what Sam knows, and what will the consequences be for Roger, for Sam, and for Sam’s relationship with his daughter Maggie? Sam’s threat to Roger might bring all of those answers to light.
The problem is that those questions have been around for thirty nine weeks and have yet to drive much of a story. It’s hard to believe they will suddenly become exciting now. Perhaps when they do clear them out of the way, they will find something different to put front and center in Dark Shadows 2.0. Let’s hope they do, and that they find a way to keep things interesting until then.
Seagoing con man Jason McGuire has talked his way into the drawing room of the great house at Collinwood. Reclusive matriarch Liz is dismayed to see him. Their conversation builds to his threat that the secret they share about something that happened one night eighteen years ago will not be safe unless she lets him stay at the house. She capitulates to this threat.
Jason invades Liz’ spaceLiz trapped under Jason
Liz’ husband, the never-seen Paul Stoddard, disappeared eighteen years ago, and she hasn’t left Collinwood since. Jason makes it clear to more than one character that he knew Stoddard, and implies to Liz that the terrible secret they share explains Stoddard’s absence. She is very uncomfortable any time anyone goes into the basement of the house. After Jason goes to get his luggage today, Liz tells well-meaning governess Vicki that it is more important than ever that no one know she saw her coming out of the locked room in the basement the other night. The obvious conclusion would seem to be that Liz and Jason killed Stoddard and hid his corpse in the locked room, though perhaps there might be some twist coming up that will lead us to a different conclusion.
Looking at today’s episode, I think we can see several routes they might take to add interest to the tale. Vicki is eager to help Liz in any way she can, and both Liz’ daughter Carolyn and her brother Roger show themselves more than ready to stand with her against Jason. If she accepts their help and tells them any part of the truth, their reactions to what she tells them and their attempts to work together against Jason might change the relationships among them in exciting ways.
Carolyn wonders if Jason is an old flame of Liz’. If there is an attraction between Liz and Jason, then we might see that Carolyn inherited her tendency to fall for the worst possible man from her mother, and there might be conflict between mother and daughter mirroring the tension when Carolyn was chasing after the family’s nemesis, dashing action hero Burke Devlin. Jason is mysterious enough, and actor Dennis Patrick is charismatic enough, that a romance that begins with Liz disregarding her better judgment and falling for Jason in spite of everything could lead to any number of interesting places.
Jason’s threat to Liz today, and indeed all of his talk when they are alone in the drawing room, is in terms of a single incident- “the most important incident of your life,” as Jason describes it to Liz. If his only leverage over her comes from one isolated event, then all he can do is repeat the same threat every time he wants her to make another concession. That would get to be unbearably monotonous very quickly. On the other hand, Liz’ reaction to him shows that when she and Stoddard knew him eighteen years ago, he was just as smooth-talking and untrustworthy as he is now. So it might be that Liz and Stoddard involved themselves in a series of his scams, and that she has a long list of secrets she is afraid he will expose. If that turns out to be the case, there might be a long list of pressure points where he can place his finger depending on just how outrageous his demand might be.
Failing any of those twists, the Jason storyline could be pretty dreary. Art Wallace, who was the sole credited writer for the first 40 episodes of Dark Shadows and stayed with show until #85, wrote a 30 minute episode of a CBS anthology series called The Web in 1954 under the title “The House.” You can see the whole thing here:
That version features a retired sailor coming to a coastal town. He finds out that a local woman whom he knew years before hasn’t left her house since he was around, which was at the same time her husband disappeared. He goes to her house and threatens that he will expose the hideous secret in her basement unless she lets him stay with her. His demands mount. When he insists that she marry him, she finally admits that she killed her husband and the sailor hid his body in the basement. The basement is dug up, revealing that there never was a body there. Indeed, she never killed anyone. The husband tricked her into thinking she had killed him, and the sailor tricked her into thinking he had buried him. When this truth comes out, the sailor flees and the woman lives happily ever after.
That may sound like enough story to fill a 30 minute time-slot, but The House has a number of slow parts. That thinness bodes ill for the narrative arc now starting. This is already Jason’s third episode, and the themes of Stoddard’s absence, Liz’ seclusion, and the locked room in the basement were dealt with over and again in the first weeks of Dark Shadows. Art Wallace’s original story bible for the series, Shadows on the Wall, included a straight retelling of the plot of The House, with no fresh complications until the very end. Today, when Jason tells Liz that as a houseguest he won’t require much entertaining, she replies “I don’t intend to entertain you at all!” If they stick to Wallace’s idea, the same might be the epigram for Jason’s whole storyline.
In Dark Shadows Version 1.0, well-meaning governess Vicki represents our point-of-view. In the 1930s and 40s, radio soap operas would often have a character to whom they would assign that role, one person to whom everything has to be explained so that the audience can be brought into the story. That may have worked on a show in a 15 minute time slot, but it’s a stretch to build a 30 minute daily drama around one character, and today’s hour-long daytime serials couldn’t possibly keep one person on the spot the whole time. In part, that’s because you’d wear the actor out. More importantly, it’s because soap operas are usually about abruptly disclosing secrets to the audience and gradually leaking them out to the characters. A character who has no secrets from the audience can’t generate that kind of action, and will sooner or later turn into dead wood.
Today, we start with reclusive matriarch Liz recruiting Vicki to help her keep one of her secrets. Vicki found Liz in the basement late last night, a fact which Liz has made her promise she will not share with anyone. Vicki does not see why anyone should care whether Liz goes into the basement of her own house at night or any other time, and indeed no one does care. But Liz insists she keep quiet about it, and when Liz’ daughter Carolyn mentions having heard her up in the middle of the night, she makes Vicki lie and say that she was the one who was up.
Since Vicki can have no secrets from us, she cannot be particularly good at keeping secrets from the other characters. If she were able to tell a convincing lie, a person just tuning in to the show might be deceived by Vicki. She has tried her hand at lying a few times so far, always with disastrous results when the lie immediately collapsed. This time, Carolyn doesn’t catch on, and there don’t seem to be any ill effects, but that’s just because it’s a topic Carolyn doesn’t care about. Vicki changes her whole demeanor when she’s getting ready to tell these lies, stiffening her spine, plastering on a smile, and speaking a little bit too loudly. On previous occasions she had different tells, looking down and taking a breath before she speaks, or looking around and stammering while she speaks, etc. A supercut of those scenes might serve as a catalog of the various types of inept liars. Alexandra Moltke Isles renders each type convincingly enough that such a video could be useful to students of acting, of psychology, and of poker. But it would also show why Vicki is facing a limited future as a soap opera character.
We’re supposed to be saddened that Vicki has had to damage her friendship with Carolyn by lying to her, but I was on Liz’ side, rooting for the lie to work and Carolyn to stop asking questions. Otherwise, we’ll have to hear more about Liz’ attitude towards her basement, and that is such a stupefyingly dull topic it makes us yearn for the days when they spent 21 episodes showing people wondering where Burke Devlin’s fountain pen might be. Besides, Liz is an accomplished liar. If Vicki can study under her and learn her skills, she might be able to continue as a major character.
While Vicki is struggling with the rules of the genre in which she exists, another character is comfortably embodying one of the most familiar stock figures of soapdom. That’s Jason McGuire, a con man who has a history with the matriarch of the powerful family. He’s in the restaurant at the Collinsport Inn having a breezy chat across the counter with Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town, who is impressed by his habit of putting lemon peel in his coffee. Hey, you work for tips, you find ways to be impressed by the customers.
Vicki comes into the restaurant and chats with Maggie about Liz’ recovery from the mysterious illness that recently put her in the hospital. Overhearing Liz’ name, Jason sidles up to Vicki and questions her about the residents of the great house at Collinwood. He won’t give Vicki his name, but gets her to tell him about everyone who lives there. She describes her own duties as “governess… companion… tutor,” to which Jason replies that she sounds busy.
Coupled with the fact that we first saw her today sorting Liz’ mail, the word “companion” suggests that the show is changing Vicki’s job so that she will be the first involved, not only in stories that center on strange and troubled boy David, but also in those centering on Liz. That’s promising- not only would it give Vicki a chance to learn how to lie, but it also suggests that they might have figured out how to mirror the one consistently interesting relationship on the show so far, that between Vicki and David. Perhaps it will be as much fun to watch Vicki as Liz’ pupil as it has been to watch David as Vicki’s.
After Jason questions her, he tells Vicki that he will definitely be seeing her again soon. He then leaves, still not having told her his name. Vicki asks Maggie who he is. She tells Maggie that Jason made her uncomfortable with his questions about the residents of Collinwood, and that the theme of those questions was “not so much how they are… as where they are.” Dark Shadows has been heavy with recapping, but this may be the first example of a conversation in which two characters recap the conversation immediately preceding it, without even a commercial break in between.
Back at Collinwood, a knock sounds at the front door. Carolyn comes downstairs to answer it. As she does so, we see a mirror in a spot by the door. For some time, the mirror has been alternating on that spot with a metallic decoration. We saw the metallic decoration most recently, but now the mirror is back.
Carolyn opens the door to find Jason. He claims to be an old acquaintance of the family, but refuses to give his name. Carolyn eventually gives in and admits him to the house. While Jason is saying that nothing in the house has changed in many years, the mirror is filled with the reflection of a portrait. When we were watching the episode, this brief glimpse led us to believe that the mirror had been replaced with a portrait. We haven’t seen this effect before, and it is so striking that it is hard to believe it was an accident. Indeed, precisely the same image will be used under the closing credits of an episode coming up four years from now, suggesting that it is something they’ve given a great deal of thought.
The portrait by the door
In the drawing room, Jason continues to withhold his name, telling Carolyn that he doesn’t want to spoil the surprise he has in store for her mother. He charms Carolyn with his claims to have gone ten times each to Hong Kong, Naples, Madagascar,* and every other place that pleased him the first nine times he visited.
When Liz comes downstairs, Carolyn tells her that an old acquaintance of hers is waiting to see her. Liz smiles at this news, but when she sees Jason her expression turns to one of utter despair.
*In 139, David’s mother, blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins, mentioned that when he was a little boy he was interested in Madagascar. When Carolyn brings up Madagascar today, we wonder if the Collinses have some connection to the island.
The residents of the great house of Collinwood stand around recapping the series so far. The only unanswered question that comes up is matriarch Liz’ extreme reluctance to leave the house.
Regular viewers could probably explain that to the characters. She has nowhere to go. She conducts the family’s enterprises from the drawing room, doing paperwork on a coffee table and holding meetings on the couch. The only room we’ve seen in the headquarters of the company is the office assigned to her brother Roger, and no work is done there. Since dashing action hero Burke Devlin is supposed to be a major corporate raider and he runs his business from his hotel room, the show takes a firm stand in favor of remote work.
The only spaces for socializing that we’ve seen are the Blue Whale tavern, a downscale hangout which wouldn’t have much to attract Liz, who is such a grand lady that she is played by Joan Bennett, and the restaurant at the Collinsport Inn, which is part of her adversary Burke’s territory. The only private home that has appeared is the cottage occupied by drunken artist Sam Evans and his daughter Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town, who represent the working class in Collinsport and upon whom the head of the Collins family decidedly does not call. We’ve also paid two visits to the Pine Hotel in Bangor, Maine, whence hapless fountain pens are launched on endless journeys. That leaves the sheriff’s office, the crypt at the old cemetery, and the waterfront as the only places not on the grounds of the estate we’ve seen more than once. There doesn’t seem to be any reason why Liz, or anyone like her, would ever want to go to any of those places.
So if they are going to launch a storyline built around the question of why Liz is a recluse, they are going to have to show us someplace she might like to go. If we know that she doesn’t have anywhere to go, we won’t be in suspense as to why she isn’t going there.
Related to Liz’ reclusiveness is her concern that no one go into certain parts of the house. This is such a dead end that not even the other characters take an interest in it. When she asks if, during her recent absence in the hospital, the late and much-missed parapsychologist Dr Guthrie went into the basement, well-meaning governess Vicki almost yawns while responding “Oh, sure, he went down there.” The show didn’t bother putting Guthrie’s explorations of the house on screen, and the audience never heard him talk about anything he found there. Vicki makes it clear to Liz that he never talked about it to her, and regular viewers will remember that she was his chief contact.
Today, we learn that Liz has been wearing a chain around her neck with a key at the end for years, and that it hasn’t occurred to anyone to ask what the key unlocks. When Roger casually puts that question to her today, she angrily tells him that they shouldn’t question each other. Later, we see her use the key to open the door to a locked room in the basement. When Vicki finds Liz coming out of that room at 2:40 AM, Liz explains that she went there because she was having trouble sleeping. Evidently it is such a dull place that going there can cure insomnia. With scenes like these, they are signaling that only Liz ever thinks about the basement, and that when she takes note of the attitudes of the people around her not even she believes that there is anything there worth paying attention to. Since Liz’ interest in the basement is the only plot point we get all day, that is not a recipe for excitement.
Vicki finds Liz trying to cure her insomnia
In their post about this episode, John and Christine Scoleri pick up on Vicki’s remark that Guthrie explored the great house of Collinwood very thoroughly. John mentions that the show didn’t put any of that exploration on screen, and Christine responds with a series of images with Guthrie inserted into various rooms of the house. It’s hilarious, you should take a look.
Drunken artist Sam Evans receives an unexpected visitor to his cottage. She is famed art dealer Portia Fitzsimmons, and she is magnificent.
Mrs Fitzsimmons, as she insists on being addressed, was in a junk shop earlier this week, where she found two of Sam’s paintings available to buyers of the frames they were in. The paintings were done ten or twelve years ago, and she declares that they are in a style that will soon become fashionable. If Sam can come up with a dozen more canvases from that period, he will have a one-man show at her gallery, and he will become famous. With that fame, he may even be able to sell some of his newer paintings, countless of which have been collecting dust around the cottage for years on end.
This was the very first scene of Dark Shadows I ever saw. I’d heard of the show when I was a boy in the late 70s and my mother was watching whatever daytime soap she was into. I heard her say something like, “Ooh, they’re going to turn into Dark Shadows.” I asked her what Dark Shadows was, and she explained that it was a soap opera that had been on about ten years before which introduced a vampire as one of the regular characters. At that age, I thought of soaps as the dullest thing in the world. I wasn’t particularly into vampires, but they were obviously too interesting for the televised sleeping pills that beamed into our living room for an hour every afternoon, so I followed up with some more questions. She had never watched the show, so all she could tell me was that it started as a more or less conventional daytime serial, added a vampire, and became a hit.
When the 90s came along and I got cable TV in my apartment, that was still all I knew about it. So when I saw that the Sci-Fi Channel* was showing Dark Shadows, I decided to take a look. There is no suggestion of vampires in this one, but Portia Fitzsimmons is such a dynamic character that I could see that the show was capable of being pretty lively without them.
Actress Lovelady Powell has two physical abilities that enable her to give us something fresh to look at every second the camera is on her. First is her remarkably mobile face. Her left eyelid alone is capable of a wider variety of expressions than most performers can produce with their entire physiognomy. Since it is her left eye that is focused on Sam throughout the scene, that eyelid is going to be the crucial body part in her delineation of their relationship, but she uses it with remarkable facility. Focus on her left eyelid in these three images, and see how it does most of the work in taking her in a few seconds from delighted to dismayed to dismissive:
DelightedDismayedDismissive
Those three images show a major shift in mood. The same eyelid can also modulate finer shades of feeling. In this sequence a few moments later, the left eye is partially obscured, but still shows precisely what is going on when Mrs Fitzsimmons gives Sam his marching orders:
Laying down the lawLetting it sink inAdding emphasisObserving Sam’s reactionConfirming Sam in his reactionMaking up her mind about Sam
Powell not only made excellent use of the fine muscles of her face, but of her limbs as well. So her second strength is her style of movement. She walks around the set continually, making many wide, sweeping gestures. If those seemed to be a number of distinct motions, she would be a hectic, distracting presence. But in fact, it all comes together as an uninterrupted flow, and defines the entire performance space in terms of her action and her presence. This is difficult to illustrate with still images, but if you look at how she uses her elbows in this sequence I think you’ll get the idea:
Maximum distanceApproachingArrivalStarting to unbend
I think an actor could watch this scene a dozen times and learn new things from every viewing.
All these techniques for establishing visual dominance pay off in the scene. Sam is an artist who has so utterly despaired of finding an audience for his art that it simply does not register with him that a famous art dealer has come calling. Returning viewers will remember that Sam has been moping around feeling sorry for himself since his first appearance in episode 5. Two weeks ago, in #184, he told his daughter Maggie that it was too late for him ever to have a one-man show and that all he could ever hope for was to sell a few paintings to tourists every summer. Within minutes, Mrs Fitzsimmons has changed all of that. She watches Sam’s reactions as she turns his life upside down, and visibly calculates the particular sort of flourish with which she will deliver each of her lines. When he tells her that he thinks he will be able to assemble enough paintings within a week, she stands in the doorway and replies that she is sure he will be able to do it then, “if you can do it at all.” She then pirouettes away and wafts off whence she came.
When I first saw the scene, I wondered how big a part Mrs Fitzsimmons would play in the storylines to come. I still remember seeing the name “Lovelady Powell” in the closing credits. With my work schedule at the time, I didn’t have a chance to see another episode for months, and when I did join it again there was no sign of Portia Fitzsimmons. I assumed she’d been written out, perhaps to return in some later narrative arc, perhaps because Lovelady Powell had gone on to bigger things. It came as quite a surprise to learn that this was her only appearance on Dark Shadows, and that her acting career never really took off.
Now that I’m on my second complete viewing of the series, it’s an even bigger surprise. The portraits of the ancestors of the ancient and esteemed Collins family are among the most prominent visual features of the chief sets, those representing the great house of Collinwood. Portraits there and elsewhere, including in the long-abandoned Old House at Collinwood and in the Evans cottage, have repeatedly been shown to have supernatural power, representing a bridge between the world of the living and that of the dead.
Further, every storyline that has been resolved so far has centered on strange and troubled boy David Collins. The show has gone out of its way to show that David has promise as an artist. David Collins is nine, and actor David Henesy turned ten in October of 1966, but the character is unusual enough and the actor is sophisticated enough that it would be interesting to see David interact with the grand dame of the New York art world.
An art connoisseur is therefore as well-positioned as anyone to act as a guide to the uncanny realms into which the show will be venturing from now on. Combining Portia Fitzsimmons’ claim to expertise with her imperious personality and Lovelady Powell’s sophisticated acting style, you’d have a character who could carry us right through the whole series. The producers will be hard-pressed to find another actress who can play as worldly and forceful a Vergil to the various Dantes who will be exploring Collinwood’s weird infernos.
Sam’s reaction to Portia Fitzsimmons’ command that he bring her a dozen canvases that he painted ten or twelve years ago puzzled me on my first viewing, and puzzles me in a different way now. The only group of works that fill that bill are in the possession of high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins. Sam sold them to Roger ten years ago for $15,000. Roger likes money, a point made clear in his scene with Sam today. If Sam simply telephoned Roger and told him that the famous Portia Fitzsimmons wants to show the paintings in her gallery and sell them at a great profit to Roger, no doubt he would be eager to find them and make the deal.
Sam does not do anything so straightforward. Instead, he visits Roger at Collinwood. Roger responds to his presence by railing at him, declaring that he never wants to see him in the house and wants him to leave immediately. Sam then insists that Roger give him the paintings. When Roger asks why, Sam denies that any part of the $15,000 was a payment for the paintings. He starts to explain that it was hush money Roger gave Sam to ensure he kept a secret Roger wants withheld from dashing action hero Burke Devlin.** Roger looks around in terror when Sam starts talking about the secret, then orders him never to speak of the matter again. Sam says he will tell Burke all about it unless Roger produces the paintings. Roger dismisses Sam’s threat, but does offer to sell him the paintings for $50,000, unless it turns out that he destroyed them or lost them somewhere along the way.
Now that I’ve seen episodes 1-192 a couple of times, I know that Sam hates Roger, hates himself for taking Roger’s money and betraying Burke, and wants to start a new life in which Roger will have no part. But his undisguised attempt to blackmail Roger into handing over the paintings isn’t really in character for Sam. His tortured conscience has hobbled Sam time and again in his attempts to stand up to Roger. Besides, Sam just had a harrowing encounter with the supernatural in the form of Roger’s estranged wife, blonde fire witch Laura Collins, and that experience seemed like it would make him a kinder and more thoughtful man. That his first act after emerging from it is to commit an out-and-out felony is a disappointment to me.
My wife, Mrs Acilius, wasn’t disappointed. She likes the scenes when Sam is sober enough to stand up to Roger, and she sees this as one of the strongest of those. While she acknowledges that Sam is not being rational, she cheers for his desire to press to the hilt his advantage over the rich so-and-so who has been a blight on his existence for so long.
In the local tavern, The Blue Whale, Maggie Evans is having a drink with her boyfriend, hardworking young fisherman Joe. The camera focuses on a man in a seaman’s coat and captain’s hat sitting at the bar, eavesdropping on their conversation. When they mention Collinwood and reclusive matriarch Liz, the sailor perks up and approaches them.
He apologizes for listening to their conversation, but goes on to ask a series of questions about its content. When Joe makes it clear he does not welcome the intrusion, he apologizes again, while in the act of sitting down with them. When they are finally getting rid of him, he says that it is terribly sad that Liz never leaves her home, and while speaking of that terrible sadness flashes a huge grin. He gives his name as Jason McGuire.
So we are introduced to a second new character in this episode. This one is apparently going to get some kind of storyline started. The actor is talented and the scene has some good things in it, but Jason McGuire is no Portia Fitzsimmons.
*As it then was known.
**A sketch of Burke is on display in Sam’s cottage today. The Dark Shadows wiki speaks with the voice of fans everywhere when it says that Sam tore up a sketch of Burke in #41 and therefore should not have this item now. But Sam made that sketch as part of his preparation for painting a full portrait of Burke. Artists make more than one sketch when they are getting ready for a major painting, so the fact that Sam tore up one sketch doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have any number of others lying around.
Yesterday, the “Phoenix” story had its climax. Today is taken up with the denouement of that story. Throughout the thirteen weeks of this arc, there has been so much recapping and re-recapping that a denouement may not seem necessary, but this is a satisfying episode.
We open in the woods, where well-meaning governess Vicki and strange and troubled boy David are running from the flames engulfing an old fishing shack in which David’s mother, blonde fire witch Laura, has tried to lure him to a fiery death. Laura did not burn, but disappeared amid the flames.
Vicki holds David by the hand. He is no longer under the trance in which his mother held him while they were in the shack, but neither is he clear in his mind. When Vicki tells him she is taking him home, he looks at the fire and exclaims “That is my home!”
Dashing action hero Burke comes tumbling out of the woods. Vicki tells him what happened. He wants to rescue Laura from the fire, and leaves Vicki no choice but to explain that she saw Laura simply vanish. David is standing by them when they have this conversation, but evidently does not hear it. He is quiet for a while, then looks at Burke and asks if what he sees burning is the fishing shack.
Back home in the great house of Collinwood, Vicki tucks David into bed. He asks her if the fishing shack burned. She says yes. He is dismayed- he had a lot of fishing equipment there. He then asks if his mother left. Vicki says yes. He talks about the situation with her for a while, finally saying that he might visit her sometime. Vicki tells him that he should know that his mother loves him.
Downstairs in the drawing room, Vicki tells Burke that David doesn’t seem to remember anything of his terrible experience. She hopes he never will.
David’s father, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger, comes home. He reacts to the sight of Burke with distaste, indicating that the hiatus in their feud while they were working together to protect David is now over. Roger is complaining that he was having a pleasant evening in town until he had to come home because of some foolish talk about a fire at Collinwood. Vicki asks Burke to leave the room so that she can talk to Roger privately.
Roger is thunderstruck by the news that Laura is no more. He is even more shocked to learn that Vicki had to struggle to keep David from joining Laura in the flames. “She wanted to kill him? She wanted him to burn?” “You saved him?” “What can I say?” For the whole of the series until the last few days, Roger has openly hated his son and wanted to be rid of him. Now that David has come so close to death, Roger has begun to understand what he has thrown away by refusing to love his son.
Roger goes up to David’s room. David wakes up. Roger says he didn’t mean to wake him. David is bright, cheerful, polite. He makes a comment about Roger’s grammar, then apologizes for correcting his elders. He asks Roger if he heard about the shack, and says he will miss his fishing gear. He mentions a particular pole that groundskeeper Matthew Morgan made for him a long time ago; David’s acquaintance with Matthew ended under circumstances scarcely less traumatic than what he went through in the fishing shack in yesterday’s episode, but his reference to Matthew is as chirpy and upbeat as is everything else he says. David keeps asking Roger why he came and what he wanted. Roger, who is supremely fluent when the conversation consists of sarcastic, belittling remarks, can barely complete a sentence. He can’t even maintain eye contact with David. He finally stumbles through something about how there are things that are hard to understand. It is a beautiful, terrible, wonderful little scene.
Roger realizes that his gigantic belt buckle is no compensation for what he and David have missed
In a hospital room in Boston, reclusive matriarch Liz has emerged from the catatonic trance in which Laura trapped her five weeks ago. Liz’ daughter, flighty heiress Carolyn, is overjoyed at her mother’s apparently complete recovery.
Carolyn telephones Collinwood with the good news. Vicki tells her what happened in the fishing shack. It dawns on them that Liz emerged from her trance as the flames were surrounding Laura. They don’t know what we saw yesterday, that David began to break from the trance in which Laura held him when he heard the sound of Liz shouting in her hospital room almost 300 miles away. They do realize that Laura’s power was at the root of Liz’ troubles, even if they never find out that Liz was able to exercise some power of her own. Carolyn wonders if all the strange goings-on have really finished going on, if the residents of Collinwood are now free to live quiet, uneventful lives.
Disturbingly for fans of the show, they really are free, at least for the time being. Liz is antsy today when she asks if a stranger has gone through the basement of the house. Carolyn is at one with the audience in finding this question completely uninteresting, but Liz was obsessed with keeping people out of the basement in the early weeks of the show, and the unexplained reason for that obsession is the closest thing they have to an unresolved storyline. Roger and Burke’s mutual dislike also ties into some unanswered questions that no one who isn’t desperate for a cure to insomnia really wants to ask again. So it is not at all clear where the show is heading. They could just stop here, say “They all lived happily ever after,” and that would be fine. But they’ve sold ABC another 65 episodes, so some misfortunes have to turn up in the next couple of days.
We open in an old, abandoned fishing shack loaded with junk, much of it made of dry, brittle wood. The floor of the shack is on fire. Flames leap from the floor several feet up to the ceiling. Over the next half hour, none of the junk will catch fire, nor will the walls. During that period, strange and troubled boy David Collins and his mother, blonde fire witch Laura, will stand around in the shack, carrying on a conversation. David slowly recites the legend of the Phoenix. There are also several cuts away from the burning shack. We see well-meaning governess Vicki in the drawing room at the great house of Collinwood; we see reclusive matriarch Liz in her hospital room in Boston. Evidently it’s one of those leisurely shack fires that don’t demand your undivided attention.
In the pre-credits teaser, Laura calls David to come to her, deeper into the flames. He takes a few steps in her direction. After the credits, David is back where he started. This sets the amazingly dilatory tone that persists throughout the whole episode.
David has got this far towards Laura at 1 minute 35 seconds into the episode.
In the drawing room, Vicki is shouting at the ghost of Josette Collins, asking where David is. My wife, Mrs Acilius, says that on this viewing of the series she is starting to identify with the ghost of Josette. Josette must be getting pretty frustrated that after everything she and the other ghosts have done to try to explain the situation to them, the living still don’t get it. Vicki really ought to have thought of the fishing shack several days ago, when a ghost told her that there would be a deadly fire in a very small house by the sea, but it doesn’t dawn on her until some minutes into today’s episode, by which time a wooden shack would have burned to ashes.
Laura asks David to tell her the legend of the Phoenix. He announces the title: “The Legend of the Phoenix!” Then he looks at the teleprompter, intones a few more words, and looks at the teleprompter again. It is very unusual for David Henesy’s memory to fail him, and even more unusual for him to bellow his lines like some kid actor on a 1960’s TV show. Usually he’s letter-perfect and remarkably natural. But Diana Millay is also a good study, and she’s looking at the teleprompter today as well.
Maybe writer Malcolm Marmorstein didn’t get today’s script to the actors at the usual time. It’s easy to imagine that the producers might have kept sending Marmorstein back to do rewrites- this is the grand finale of the most ambitious storyline they’ve had, and it stinks to high heaven. Maybe by the time they realized they weren’t going to get a decent piece of writing out of Marmorstein, it was too late for the actors to learn their parts properly.
In a hospital room in Boston, flighty heiress Carolyn is sitting with her mother Liz. Liz has been in a catatonic state and off the show since #160, immobilized by Laura’s evil spell and Joan Bennett’s annual five week vacation. It’s the first hospital room we’ve seen on Dark Shadows, and it comes equipped with Ivor Francis, who would be one of the busiest and most distinguished character actors on American television in the 1970s. Francis plays the doctor who very patiently and calmly tells Carolyn that there isn’t any point in sitting with Liz tonight. Francis is always interesting to watch- you can tell that the doctor has a thousand interesting things on his mind, and are engrossed in his every word, expecting him to say one of them out loud. But of course he never does.
Vicki makes her way to the shack, where the fire hasn’t made the slightest progress. Maybe the real danger David is facing is asbestos exposure. Vicki tries the door and finds it locked. She stands at the window, which has no glass but is crossed with stout wooden beams, and shouts at David to come out. Laura urges him to finish telling the story of the Phoenix, Vicki urges him to stop telling the story and get out of the shack. Vicki can stick her hand into the shack, but can’t quite touch David.
Vicki realizes she can’t reach David
Laura looks up at Vicki and says that David can’t hear her. Vicki keeps talking, and Laura sounds as exasperated as we imagine Josette must be. After all the research she and her allies have done, hasn’t she figured out that this was what was going to happen?
Returning viewers share Laura’s exasperation, because we know that Vicki has indeed figured it out. She’s spent weeks warning all of her friends that exactly this scenario would play out. But suddenly today she has forgotten everything. It’s the ultimate Dumb Vicki moment, when the writers paint themselves into a corner and escape by making Vicki act like a moron. Marmorstein has to keep the shack burning and David in it from 4:00 to 4:30 PM Eastern time, and if that means Vicki has to develop some kind of amnesia, too bad for her.
Laura says that David, like her, will attain immortality if he burns in the fire. We know that is false.The ghost of David Radcliffe, a son whom she burned in a previous incarnation, spoke through David at a séance the other day and told us that he was separated from his mother in the fire and has been an unquiet spirit since. Laura may not know this, and may sincerely believe that David will share in her resurrection. But Vicki was at the séance. It’s a bit odd she doesn’t try to correct Laura on this point, since they have plenty of time for chit-chat while the flames burn in place.
In Boston, Liz wakes up. Evidently Laura’s impending immolation has broken the spell she cast on Liz. After some minutes of preliminaries, Liz starts shouting “David! Fire! David in fire!” Carolyn and the doctor try to calm her, but she keeps shouting. Almost 300 miles away at Collinwood, David can hear Liz’ voice.
After he hears Liz, David can hear Vicki as well. Evidently all of Laura’s spells are breaking. Laura keeps pleading with David to join her in the flames, Vicki keeps yelling at him to stay where he is. Two minutes before the end of the episode, a burning beam falls, and Laura looks terrified. She delivers her lines after this with the utmost intensity. In an Archives of Television interview, Diana Millay explained that the beam wasn’t supposed to fall, that she really was frightened, and that after all those weeks on the show she had developed a maternal feeling for David Henesy that nearly led her to break character and try to protect him at that moment. She uses those feelings to great advantage, selling the audience on the idea that this is Laura’s last chance to take David with her into the flames.
A fiery shot we were supposed to seeNot supposed to happen
Finally Laura tells David it is too late. David looks back and forth between Laura in the flames and Vicki at the window. The flames consume Laura as she cries out “From these ashes, the Phoenix is reborn!” David is horrified as he watches his mother disappear in the blaze.
David pulls at the window in an attempt to escape. Vicki calls him to come out the door. He does, and she embraces him as he weeps.
David tries to get out through the windowThe climactic moment of Dark Shadows 1.0
The last couple of minutes of the episode work well enough to show us what we are supposed to be feeling. Mostly that is down to the emotions Millay and Henesy are able to project when they aren’t burdened with a lot of lines they got at the last minute and that don’t make much sense anyway. It also rests on the foundation of the only relationship that has been interesting every time we’ve seen it, the growing friendship between David and Vicki.
Now that David has chosen the life Vicki is offering him over the death his mother represented, that relationship has nowhere to go. None of the unresolved stories has ever been interesting, and there is no reason to suppose that will change now. So today marks the end, not only of the Laura arc, but of Dark Shadows 1.0. ABC has renewed the show for thirteen more weeks, taking them to episode 260. At this point, there is no indication of what they could possibly do to keep the characters busy for that long.
Dark Shadows Commentary 