In this episode, libertine Quentin Collins teams up with broad ethnic stereotype Magda Rákóczi to find an Egyptian urn belonging to Quentin’s enemy, undead blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins. Quentin has learned that the urn contains a magic fire, and that if the fire goes out Laura will die.
Quentin and Magda find the urn hidden under an armillary sphere near the gazebo on the grounds of the estate of Collinwood. Quentin takes the lid off the sphere, and the flame jumps out. He then takes some sand from a decorative pot near the gazebo and starts heaping it on the flame. If the flame keeps burning when the lid is on the urn, you’d think only magic could put it out. Then again, it is Collinwood- maybe they have magic sand around. The flame does fade from view, and we cut to a scene of Laura losing her strength.
In a movie that runs two hours or less, the characters can be frantically absorbed in a search for any old thing. Alfred Hitchcock famously made that point when he called the objects of these searches “MacGuffins.”
But when a show that fills a thirty minute time slot five days a week and a storyline can stretch on for months, a MacGuffin has to represent something important about a character or a relationship between characters. So when, in the early days of the show, strange and troubled boy David Collins tried to kill his father Roger by sabotaging his car, it was fitting that the resulting plot spent a lot of time on the bleeder valve David removed from the car’s braking system. David is interested in mechanical work, and in his hostility to his son Roger refuses to share that interest or do anything to support it.
It was less successful when Roger was suspected of murder and the piece of evidence he spent several weeks obsessing over was a filigreed fountain pen belonging to his friend-turned-nemesis Burke Devlin. There was some obvious sexual symbolism in the question of where Burke’s pen is, and that symbolism did focus our attention on the question of what exactly Burke and Roger’s relationship was like before they turned against each other. Had writers Art Wallace and Francis Swann stayed with the show, they might have used that question to make the pen a powerfully evocative image. But Ron Sproat and Malcolm Marmorstein took over the writing duties as the fountain pen story was getting started. Sproat was gay himself, and perhaps for that reason made a point of avoiding any suggestion of homoeroticism in his work. Marmorstein was just clueless. In their hands, the pen was just a pen, and the 21 episodes devoted to the search for it were not among the great artistic achievements in the history of television.
The urn does remind us that Laura is supposed to have a mystical connection to Egypt, which is more meaning than Sproat dared or Marmorstein could attach to Burke’s pen. But her relationship to that country is not central to anything we see, as David’s relationship to his father was central to what we saw in the early days. So as metonymy for Laura and Egypt it is marginally more exciting than the pen was as a metonymy for Roger and Burke, but significantly less exciting than was the bleeder valve as a metonymy for David and Roger.
At the beginning of the episode, we have one of the most preposterously bad special effects we’ve seen so far, which is saying a lot. Teacher Tim Shaw is rescuing Laura’s daughter Nora from a burning school building. The school as seen in the green screen is hilariously unconvincing.
The highlight of today’s episode is a confrontation between two of Dark Shadows‘ most effective villains.
Laura Murdoch Collins (Diana Millay) was on Dark Shadows from December 1966 to March 1967, when the show took place in a contemporary setting. She emerged from the supernatural back-world behind the action, and at first she was as vague and indefinite as are the beings who lurk out of our sight there. Eventually she took on a forceful enough personality that Diana Millay could display her gift for dry comedy, but that personality was only a mask that Laura wore. The real Laura was something entirely different, unreachable, unknowable. The visible Laura marks the boundary between the world we can hope to understand and one where humans would find no points of reference, no standards of comparison. As such, she represents the danger that we might lose our way and find ourselves in a place where our minds will be useless to us. That is to say, she inspired the fear that comes from a well-told ghost story.
Now the dramatic date is 1897, and another iteration of Laura is the mother of twelve year old Jamison and nine year old Nora. Laura’s estranged husband, the stuffy Edward Collins, and Edward’s sister, spinster Judith, have sent Jamsion and Nora to Worthington Hall, a boarding school which doubles as a particularly cruel cult. Laura’s plans for Nora and Jamison require them to be home on the estate of Collinwood, and so she sets out to release them from Worthington Hall.
The headmaster/ cult leader of Worthington Hall is the vile Gregory Trask (Jerry Lacy.) Trask is at the opposite pole from Laura. She is terrifying because we can never understand her or the realm whose existence she implies; he is an overpoweringly oppressive presence because he is so thoroughly comprehensible. It is perfectly obvious what Trask has done, what he plans to do next, and why he wants to do it, but knowing all that is of absolutely no use in stopping him.
In today’s opening scene, Trask confronted fugitive teacher Rachel Drummond, whom he is extorting into coming back to work at Worthington Hall. He kept sidling up to Rachel and touching her, telling her that perhaps the two of them were destined to change each other. He could not make it clearer that he wants to exploit his power over Rachel to coerce her, not only into returning to her old job, but into a sexual relationship.
Trask has been in a position of authority over Rachel since she was a small child, suggesting that his unrelentingly punitive approach to his students and the undisguised joy he takes in being cruel to them are also sexual in their origin. Rachel even used the word “sadist” to describe Trask the other day, a word coined only in 1892. Someone using it in 1897 would certainly have seen it in its original clinical context, and the neurotic intellectual Rachel undoubtedly understood it very well in its technical sense.
We see Laura on a dark set. She looks at a candelabra. She points at its three candles, one by one. As she points at each candle, it lights. Thus first time viewers learn that Laura is a supernatural being with a relationship to fire.
At Worthington Hall, Nora wanders into a room where a fireplace is alight. Nora can hear her mother’s voice urging her to look into the flames, but cannot see her. She is afraid until she looks into the flames and sees Laura’s face. Nora begins to enter a deep trance. Before she can, a teacher finds her and interrupts her. We cut back to Laura, who is pleading with Nora not to look away from the fire. Nora does, and the candles on Laura’s candelabra go out.
We see Trask in his study, browsing through a Bible. He returns that to his bookshelf and finds more congenial reading. He picks up a ledger and brightens. We see its cover, on which is taped a label reading “PUNISHMENT BOOK.” Trask smiles blissfully and sits down to examine its contents.
A knock comes at the door, pulling Trask out of his sun-kissed dream of past cruelties. Irritated, he demands to know who it is, but receives no answer. When the knocking continues, he opens the door and sees Laura.
LAURA: Are there no servants at Worthington Hall? I’m not accustomed to letting myself in.
Longtime viewers will remember that when Laura was first on the show, they made a big deal out of the fact that she never ate or drank. So much so that they had the next uncanny menace, Barnabas Collins, drink a cup of coffee in #221. Even though Barnabas was a vampire and Laura was not, they had used up the traditional indicator of vampirism. non-consumption of food or drink, on Laura. Laura’s inability to open the door herself may be another borrowing from the same stock of imagery, from the idea that the vampire cannot cross a threshold without being invited.
TRASK: Who are you?
LAURA: I am Laura Collins and I come for my children. You are Mr. Trask, of course.
TRASK: Reverend Trask!
LAURA: Anyone can call themselves anything. I knew a woman in Brooklyn, once. Insisted she was a countess.
This is an inside joke. There was quite a well-known fashion correspondent-turned-executive in Brooklyn in 1969 named Mabel Wilson Gross. Mrs Gross’ first husband was a Danish nobleman named Count Carl Adam von Moltke, known to his friends as “Bobby.” Mrs Gross was known professionally as “Countess Mab Moltke.” She and “Bobby” were the parents of Alexandra Moltke Isles, who appeared in 333 episodes of Dark Shadows as well-meaning governess Vicki. I don’t believe Mrs Isles has ever used the title “Countess” herself, though under the laws of Denmark she would have the right to do so. Since it was Vicki who led the battle against Laura in 1967, a remark from Laura twitting Mrs Isles and her family might raise quite a laugh from longtime viewers who get the reference.
LAURA: (Goes to Trask’s desk and leafs through the “Punishment Book.”) But you are Trask. Yes, there’s no doubt about that.
TRASK: But you could be anyone as far as I’m concerned, anyone at all. I have too much respect for the defenseless souls in my charge.
LAURA: Oh, please, don’t be dreary.
TRASK: Dreary, Madam?
LAURA: Surely you know the word. Simply have my children brought down here, if there’s anyone to bring them.
TRASK: And how am I to know that you are their mother?
LAURA: Oh, what a trusting man you are.
TRASK: There is no question of the children leaving the school.
LAURA: Jamison possibly. Nora will leave here tonight. I’m willing to take them one at a time.
TRASK: As far as I know, Madam, their mother is away.
LAURA: You should keep more in touch.
TRASK: My wife returned from Collinwood this afternoon. She made no mention of your return.
LAURA: Hmm. How odd. I thought her a great gossip.
TRASK: Minerva? Madam.
That Minerva appeared to be “a great gossip” will also amuse longtime viewers. She is played by Clarice Blackburn, who in the parts of Dark Shadows set in the 1960s played housekeeper Mrs Johnson. After a brief period in which Mrs Johnson was supposed to be a spy planted in the house by an enemy of the Collins family, she settled into the role of a benevolent but excitable woman whose chief function was to blab everything she knew to the character likeliest to use the information to advance the plot.
LAURA: Now, will you have Nora sent down.
TRASK: I will not. Not without proper orders from Miss Judith Collins or Mr. Edward Collins. I shall call Collinwood and verify your strange appearance.
LAURA: Do.
(TRASK picks up the telephone receiver. Shows pain and drops it.)
LAURA: What’s wrong, Mr. Trask?
TRASK: It burned my hand.
LAURA: I’ve always thought the telephone an instrument of the devil, haven’t you?
TRASK: I have not!
Many times on Dark Shadows, as recently as this week, we have seen men forcibly intervene to stop a woman from talking on the telephone. I believe this is the first time we have seen a woman turn the tables and do this to a man.
TRASK: What a ridiculous conversation. I don’t know what I could have been thinking of to call Mr. Edward Collins. We have rules at Worthington Hall, Madam.
LAURA: Ah, rules are made to be broken.
TRASK: Not here. The children are asleep. They shall remain asleep. We do not encourage visits even from members of the immediate family unless of course it’s an emergency.
LAURA: Then you won’t reconsider?
TRASK: No.
LAURA: Not wise. Not wise at all.
TRASK: Are you threatening me?
LAURA: My children will not spend one more night in this school.
Laura remains perfectly calm throughout this conversation. Even her closing threat is delivered in a light tone, with an easy smile. Trask is agitated at the outset, and becomes ever more so as he realizes he cannot intimidate Laura. Since Diana Millay and Jerry Lacy are two of the most capable comic actors on Dark Shadows, the result is hilarious.
We first saw the effect of Laura’s imperturbability on an earnest interlocutor in #183 and #184, when she confronted a profoundly different character. In those installments, visiting parapsychologist Peter Guthrie called on Laura at the same cottage where she is staying in 1897. He introduced a new word to Dark Shadows‘ lexicon when he told her that he had concluded that she was “The Undead.” He said that he knew of her evil intentions, and said that if she abandoned them and turned to good, he would make every effort to help her live a different kind of life. Guthrie’s offer meant exactly nothing to Laura, and she responded to it with the same sardonic indifference Trask elicits from her today. Her next act was to cast a spell that caused Guthrie to crash his car and die in a ball of flame.
Trask gets off easier. Laura just sets his school on fire. The closing shot shows Nora apparently surrounded by flames. Laura does not want to burn Nora to death, at least not yet, but she is not one of your more detail-oriented otherworldly menaces. It will not surprise longtime viewers that she is blithely assuming that her children will somehow escape alive from the blaze she has started.
Until November 1967, Dark Shadows was set in contemporary times. So when #283 was shown in July 1967, we could assume that its dramatic date more or less matched its broadcast date.
In that one, psychiatrist Julia Hoffman (Grayson Hall) brought her patient Maggie Evans (Kathryn Leigh Scott) to the old cemetery north of the village of Collinsport, Maine. When Maggie reacted to one or another of the sights of the cemetery with a particularly strong emotion, Julia pressed closer to it. This technique led the two women to a mausoleum. Once inside the mausoleum, Maggie had the strongest reaction of all. Julia was trying to break through Maggie’s amnesia. She did not yet know that vampire Barnabas Collins had held Maggie prisoner, and that there was a secret room hidden in the mausoleum where he once tortured her.
Now, the dramatic date is 1897. Broad ethnic stereotype Magda Rákóczi (Grayson Hall) brings neurotic intellectual Rachel Drummond (Kathryn Leigh Scott) to the old cemetery north of the village of Collinsport, Maine. Rachel’s position as governess in the great house on the estate of Collinwood has been eliminated, and she is terrified that she will have to return to Worthington Hall, a hideously abusive school where she was forced to spend a miserable childhood as a pupil and an equally miserable first part of adulthood as a teacher. The headmaster of Worthington Hall, the evil Gregory Trask, is demanding Rachel return to his school-cum-cult, extorting her with threats of false criminal charges against her and her one friend from the school, fellow student-turned-teacher Tim Shaw. Magda takes Rachel to the same mausoleum we saw in #283, because she knows about the secret room and has decided it is the perfect place for Rachel to hide from Trask.
Meanwhile, Tim is on the job at the school, shaking his head at Rachel’s former charge, twelve year old Jamison Collins. Tim is played by Don Briscoe, who when the show was set in 1968 and 1969 played cursed brothers Tom and Chris Jennings. The Jenningses were supposed to be bad-boy sex symbols, and Briscoe often seemed stiff and uncomfortable when he had to take his shirt off or be aggressive. But as a beaten man who takes refuge from his guilt in pomposity, he’s just terrific. They found the perfect part for him.
On Dark Shadows Before I Die, Christine Scoleri says that she finds Tim Shaw the fretful schoolteacher to be “Totally hot!” Evidently Don Briscoe didn’t have to play a troubled bad boy to be a sex symbol for some people.
Jamison hasn’t done his schoolwork, and Tim is keeping him after class. Trask enters, and asks why Jamison is in detention. Tim claims that Jamison is not being punished, but that the two of them are just talking. Trask is displeased with that hint of friendliness, and before long he finds a reason to lock Jamison in a storage closet. Jamison objects to this confinement, prompting Trask to gleefully declare that “there are worse punishments! Much worse!” When Jamison lets himself out of the closet, he finds Trask waiting for him, grinning. Trask says that they will spend the day together tomorrow, and that in the course of their time together he will ordain Jamison’s further punishment.
Trask sends Tim to Collinwood to fetch Rachel. He makes a show of resistance before going. At first he has trouble finding her; he goes back to the school and reports to Trask that he has failed. Trask refuses to accept this, and sends him back. Tim meets Magda and persuades her that he is Rachel’s friend. She leads him to the secret room, and leaves him alone with Rachel. When Rachel and Tim leave the room, Trask is waiting for them.
A lot of business about a magical urn that belongs to undead blonde fire witch Laura Collins. This is Laura’s second tour on Dark Shadows; she didn’t have an urn the first time around, but the plot is much busier these days and she needs a MacGuffin for her enemies to chase after if she’s going to stay afloat.
There are also a couple of moments when characters deride spinster Judith Collins as “plain Judith,” envious of the “pretty wives your brothers brought home.” This is ridiculous. Judith isn’t even Hollywood ugly; she’s played by Joan Bennett, one of the great beauties of the screen in her youth and still, in her late 50s, a remarkably attractive woman.
But all in all, the episode is quite good. The highlight is a confrontation between governess Rachel Drummond and a villain who makes her first appearance today, Minerva Trask. Minerva is the wife of the loathsome Rev’d Gregory Trask, and with him she runs a boarding school called Worthington Hall. Rachel grew up at Worthington Hall, and like all other children there she was subjected to continual abuse at the hands of the Trasks. We haven’t seen Gregory for several days; as played by Jerry Lacy, he is so overwhelmingly evil a presence that the makers of the show wisely decided to use him sparingly. It looks like Rachel will soon be forced to go back to Worthington Hall as a teacher.
Minerva is played by Clarice Blackburn, whom many consider to be the single best actor in the whole series. For example, Nancy Barrett gave her that title in her interviews with the authors of the book Barnabas and Company. Blackburn is absolutely believable as the sanctimonious Minerva, so much so that I found her scenes as difficult to watch as are those featuring Mr Lacy as Gregory. Kathryn Leigh Scott plays the terror and misery Minerva inspires in Rachel quite effectively, but to be honest I felt those emotions very intensely myself just watching the episode on TV. I suspect that when you have a scene partner like Blackburn, all you need is to learn your lines and remember your training and you’ll connect with the audience.
Rachel tells her troubles to broad ethnic stereotype Magda Rákóczi, who volunteers to help her escape the Trasks. Magda’s plan requires Rachel to do three extraordinary things. She must give her garnet-encrusted broach, the only keepsake her late mother gave her, to Magda to sell to raise money for a coach ride to Boston. She must spend the night in a secret room hidden in an old mausoleum. And once in Boston, she will have to find employment without having recourse to any credentials or references that would make it possible for her to find a situation agreeable to a neurotic intellectual such as herself. We could never believe Rachel would do any of these things if she were facing a less gruesome threat than return to Worthington Hall.
Longtime viewers may wonder just how far Rachel’s fears will drive her. In #9, broadcast and set in the year 1966, flighty heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard told well-meaning governess Victoria Winters that over the years, two governesses had leapt to their deaths from the precipice atop Widow’s Hill, and that legend had it that a third governess would someday follow their lead. In other episodes, before and after, that story was rephrased as “two women” rather than “two governesses.”
So far, we have only seen one woman take the plunge, and she wasn’t a governess. She was the gracious Josette, also played by Miss Scott. Josette jumped in 1796 because she saw that she was about to be made into a vampire. Now, the dramatic date is 1897. The prospect of turning into a member of the teaching faculty of Worthington Hall is scarcely less horrifying than is the prospect of becoming a vampire, so perhaps it will turn out that Rachel was one of those whom Carolyn had in mind after all.
This episode features two undead blonde fire witches. Laura Collins was Dark Shadows‘ first supernatural menace when she was on the show from December 1966 to March 1967. In those days, the show was set in contemporary times, and it was slow-paced and heavy on atmosphere. Laura began as a vague, enigmatic presence and gradually came into focus as a dynamic villain.
Now the show is fast-paced, action-packed, and set in the year 1897. Laura is once again the estranged wife of the eldest brother of the matriarch of the great estate of Collinwood. This time, she has come back to Collinwood after running off with her husband’s brother, Quentin. Unlike her 1960s iteration, this Laura is not at all happy about the periodic immolations that renew her existence as a humanoid Phoenix. She bears a grudge against Quentin for betraying her to the priests of a secret cult in Alexandria, Egypt, who incinerated her some months before. For his part, Quentin is shocked that Laura is alive now. When he tries to remedy the situation by strangling Laura, a feeling of intense heat overwhelms him and he collapses.
The other undead blonde fire witch is Angelique, who was first on the show from November 1967 to March 1968, when it was set in the 1790s. She appeared in 1897 when Quentin and one of his fellow Satanists conjured her up out of the fireplace in the caretaker’s cottage on the grounds of Collinwood in #711. They wanted a demon to come from the depths of Hell and help them do battle with Quentin’s distant cousin, the mysterious Barnabas Collins. Unknown to Quentin, Barnabas is a vampire and Angelique is the witch who originally made him one. Barnabas has traveled back in time to prevent Quentin becoming a ghost who will ruin things for everyone at Collinwood in 1969. Angelique is delighted to find herself back at Collinwood. She is determined to make Barnabas love her, no matter how many of his friends and relatives she has to kill along the way.
As it turns out, it was Angelique who caused Quentin to collapse before he could kill Laura. She summons Barnabas and tells him she will let Quentin die unless he lives with her as man and wife. When Angelique points out that if Quentin dies now, the results will be disastrous for the Collinses of 1969, Barnabas capitulates.
Barnabas takes Angelique to the great house. There, he introduces her to governess Rachel Drummond as his fianceé. Rachel has been falling in love with Barnabas, and their relationship has been the only bright spot in the otherwise extremely stressful time she has had at Collinwood. At one point today Rachel is on the telephone to someone she and Barnabas both hate; Barnabas takes it upon himself to press on the hook, hanging the phone up in the middle of the conversation. Many men do this to women in Dark Shadows, and it is usually very clear that the women don’t like it at all. Rachel objects only mildly, and quickly accepts it. That she isn’t bothered by such an aggressive act suggests that she already feels a very strong bond with Barnabas.
When Rachel hears that Barnabas is committed to someone else, she rushes out as quickly as possible. Later, Barnabas will meet her on the terrace and intimate that his relationship with Angelique is not what it seems. Rachel does not quite know what to make of this, but at moments we catch her rolling her eyes like someone who knows malarkey when she hears it.
Rachel listening to Barnabas explain that they shouldn’t let his fianceé come between them. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.
Angelique wakes Quentin. They talk about Laura. By magical means, Angelique discovers that Laura’s life depends on an Egyptian urn that she keeps with her at all times. This is another retcon; we saw every worldly possession Laura had in 1966, and there was no urn in sight. Quentin resolves to find this urn and destroy it, ridding himself of Laura forever.
One of the first “Big Bads” on Dark Shadows was crazed handyman Matthew Morgan, played by Thayer David. Matthew was the most devoted employee of reclusive matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard (Joan Bennett.) Matthew took his devotion to Liz to such an extreme that he was a menace to everyone else. In November and December of 1966, we learned that Matthew had decided that Liz’ second most dedicated employee, plant manager Bill Malloy, was a threat to her. Matthew had tried to put a stop to Bill’s doings. Not knowing his own strength, Matthew accidentally killed Bill. When well-meaning governess Victoria Winters discovered what had happened, Matthew abducted Victoria, held her prisoner in the long-deserted Old House on the grounds of the estate of Collinwood, and was about to murder her when a bunch of ghosts emanated from the show’s supernatural back-world and scared him to death.
In those days, Dark Shadows was a slow-paced “Gothic” drama set in contemporary times. From November 1967 to March 1968, it was a costume drama set in the 1790s, and its plot often moved at a breakneck speed. Among the characters then was much-put-upon indentured servant Ben Stokes, who like Matthew was played by Thayer David. At first Ben made a stark contrast with Matthew. He was as relaxed, friendly, and reasonable as Matthew was tense, forbidding, and paranoid. But when his one ally among the Collins family, scion Barnabas, was cursed to become a vampire, Ben’s devotion made him resemble Matthew ever more closely. In his development, we saw a retrospective reimagining of Matthew. The curses that were placed on Barnabas and the rest of the Collinses from the 1790s on had burdened the village of Collinsport, and people who grew up there labored under the consequences of those curses and of the Collinses’ attempts to conceal them. Ben was what Matthew might have been had he not been warped by the evil that began when black magic was first practiced in the area so many generations before.
In January 1969, the show briefly returned to 1796, to a time coinciding with the last days of the earlier flashback. We saw that by that point, the curses had already transformed life on and around the great estate. In that period, Ben’s efforts to protect Barnabas led him inadvertently to kill a man, not knowing his own strength, and then to cover that crime up by killing a woman, not at all inadvertently. He had become Matthew. The curse placed on Barnabas had become the curse of all those who work for the Collinses and all of those who live in the shadow of their wealth and power.
Before Matthew, Dark Shadows‘ chief villain was high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins (Louis Edmonds); after, it was Roger’s estranged wife, undead blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins (Diana Millay.) In this episode, the makers of the show take a page from its 1790s flashbacks. They have Edmonds and Millay reconceive the Roger and Laura of that atmospheric, sometimes almost action-free soap as characters appropriate to the fast-paced supernatural thriller it now is.
Since #701, Dark Shadows has been set in the year 1897. Louis Edmonds plays Roger’s grandfather Edward; Diana Millay plays Edward’s estranged wife, undead blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins. In his days as a villain, Roger’s defining characteristic was his unnatural lack of family feeling. He had squandered his entire inheritance, a fact which did not bother him in the least. When his sister Liz confronted him in #41 about the difficulties he had created by putting his half of the family business up for sale, he airily replied that he had enjoyed his inheritance. When in #273 Liz and Roger discussed a blackmail plot of which she had been the victim, Roger admitted that had he known her terrible secret, he probably would have used it to force her to give him her half of the estate so that he could squander that, as well.
It wasn’t only the family’s material possessions and Liz’ right to them to which Roger was indifferent. He openly hated his son, strange and troubled boy David Collins (David Henesy.) He continually insulted David, badgered Liz to send David away, and in #83 coldly manipulated David’s fears to lead him to try to murder Victoria.
In the 1897 segment, Edward is as stuffily serious about the family business as Roger was in 1966 nihilistically apathetic about it. Edward loves his children, twelve year old Jamison (David Henesy) and nine year old Nora, but his rage at Laura has come between himself and them. Laura left Edward the year before to run after Edward’s brother, breezy libertine Quentin (David Selby.) Edward tried to conceal the fact that his brother cuckolded him. He has repeatedly declared that Laura “No longer exists!” and has forbidden her name to be mentioned in the house.
Edward trapped between the enigmatic Laura and the exuberant Quentin. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.
For his part, Quentin bears a striking similarity to the early, wicked Roger. He wants money only to spend it, a fact which he cheerfully admits. He tried to forge a will in his grandmother Edith’s name to cheat his sister Judith (Joan Bennett) out of her inheritance, having previously threatened to kill Edith. He does have great affection for Jamison, but since he often uses the boy as a pawn in Satanic ceremonies, his fondness for his nephew is not much of an improvement over Roger’s hatred for his son. Indeed, Quentin’s resemblance to Roger connects the 1897 segment not only to the early months of the show, but also to the weeks immediately preceding it. Early in 1969, Quentin’s ghost had taken possession of David Collins and was causing him to die. When we see that Quentin is now what Roger was originally, David’s ordeal takes on a new dimension. He is dying for the sins of his father.
In this episode, Laura has returned. Edward has offered her a great deal of money to go away and never come back; she refuses. She threatens to tell the world about her relationship with Quentin if Edward does not let her stay at Collinwood. Edward buckles to this blackmail. Laura tells him that “Family pride is your greatest weakness,” making him Roger’s exact opposite.
When Laura was at Collinwood from December 1966 to March 1967, her old boyfriend Burke Devlin kept pestering her with his suspicion that he, not Roger, was David Collins’ father. Burke was not the first character to bring this idea up. Roger had mentioned it to Liz in #32, when they were talking about an attempt David had made to kill Roger. At that time, Liz was horrified that Roger seemed to want to believe that David was Burke’s natural son.
It seems unlikely that Quentin is Jamison’s father. They have been firm about 1870 as Quentin’s date of birth, and in 1897 Jamison is quite plainly twelve. Laura may have gone on to marry her own grandson, but it would be a bit of a stretch for her to have started sleeping with her brother-in-law when he was fifteen, even if he did look like David Selby.
But Roger’s anger and jealousy about Burke and Laura do mirror Edward’s about Quentin and Laura. It was abundantly clear that Roger and Burke’s deepest pain regarding Laura was that their intense attachment to each other was disrupted when she left Burke for Roger; Diana Millay used her gift for dry comedy to make this explicit in a scene the three of them played in the groundskeeper’s cottage in #139. Likewise, Edward’s frustration with and disappointment in his brother is at least as deep a source of anguish to him as is his loss of Laura’s love.
Laura, too, is quite different this time around. The first Laura story took shape gradually over a period of weeks, as Laura herself emerged from the mist. Now Laura is a forceful presence from her first appearance. Originally we heard that Laura had married into several of the leading families of the Collinsport region; now they have given up on the idea of developing other leading families, and Laura just keeps coming back to the Collinses. In the first story, they laid great emphasis on the interval of precisely one hundred years between her appearances; now, the number of years doesn’t seem to have any particular significance. As we go, we will see an even more important difference. When we first met Laura, she was utterly determined to make her way into a pyre so that she could rise as a humanoid Phoenix; now she is unhappy about the whole thing, and angry with people who have helped her on her fiery way.
Edward lets Laura live in the cottage where Roger and Liz would put her in 1966. In the final scene, she goes there and finds Quentin, drunk and trying to conjure up an evil spirit. Quentin keeps telling Laura that she is dead. Frustrated with her persistent refusal to concur with this statement, Quentin puts his hands around her neck and announces that whether or not she is dead now, she will be by the time he gets through with her.
Roger was uncharacteristically sober at the beginning of his three-scene in the cottage with Burke and Laura in #139, but he did enter brandishing a fire-arm. So Quentin’s homicidal intentions on this set further cement his affiliation with his great-nephew in the eyes of longtime viewers.
Millay and Edmonds are not the only actors whose screen iconography the show turns to advantage today. We first saw Kathryn Leigh Scott and Don Briscoe together in #638, when she was playing ex-waitress Maggie Evans and he was playing mysterious drifter Chris Jennings. They met in the foyer at Collinwood. Maggie was angry with Chris, and Chris was guilt-ridden. Today, Miss Scott plays governess Rachel Drummond and Briscoe plays teacher Tim Shaw. They meet in the foyer at Collinwood. Rachel is angry with Tim, and Tim is guilt-ridden.
Though the same actors are playing the same basic emotions on the same set, the situations are different, and the characters are very different. Maggie is Dark Shadows‘ principal representative of the working class of the village of Collinsport. She speaks directly and bluntly, using the plainest language she can to dare Chris to try to excuse his inexcusable behavior. Chris occupies a lowly and unsettled place in the world, and he dodges her gaze and evades her questions, saying as little as he can, almost mumbling.
But Rachel is a neurotic intellectual, and she expresses her anger in complex sentences featuring vocabulary that only a very well-read person would have used in 1897 (for example, the word “sadist.”) Tim retreats from her anger into a defense of his job that quickly devolves into the tiredest platitudes imaginable. At one point he actually intones “It is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.” Miss Scott makes Rachel’s highly literate onslaught on Tim as forceful as was Maggie’s unvarnished challenge to Chris, and Briscoe makes Tim’s pompous posturing as pitiable as was Chris’ broken burbling. Writer Gordon Russell must have been delighted that the actors did such good work with his ambitious pages.
When Laura Murdoch Collins first appeared on Dark Shadows in December 1966, it was far from clear what sort of being she was. From the beginning, there were definite hints that she had emerged from the supernatural back-world of ghosts and presences lurking behind the action, but as those ghosts and presences were undefined and vague, so Laura herself was undefined and vague when we met her. We couldn’t even tell how many of her there were- there was a charred corpse in Phoenix, Arizona, a phantom flickering on the front lawn of the great estate of Collinwood, two graves of Laura Murdochs from previous centuries, a woman who turns up in various places that serve food but never eats or drinks, and a series of dream visitations and inexplicable compulsions. Some of those were Laura, maybe all of them were, but how they were connected to each other, if they were connected at all, was anyone’s guess. Diana Millay’s performance reflected that uncertainty. Her Laura was initially blank and distant.
As her storyline went on, Laura came into ever sharper focus. By the time we realized that she was a humanoid Phoenix, an undead fire witch who had returned to Collinwood to take her son, strange and troubled boy David Collins, into the flames with her so that she could renew her life, she had become a dynamic character. As Laura gained force, Millay had the chance to reveal a talent for sarcastic dialogue rivaling that of Louis Edmonds, who played Laura’s estranged husband Roger Collins. Before Laura went up in flames in March 1967, we wished we could have seen a whole series featuring Millay and Edmonds as an unhappily married couple sniping at each other.
In those days, Dark Shadows was set in contemporary times. Now, its dramatic date is 1897, and Edmonds plays Roger’s grandfather, the stuffy Edward Collins. As in the first 24 weeks of Dark Shadows we saw that the name of Roger’s estranged wife was taboo in the great house of Collinwood, so in the first six weeks of the 1897 segment Edward has been furiously insistent that his estranged wife should never be mentioned. When Laura turns up, bearing the same name and played by the same actress as Edward’s granddaughter-in-law, we know what we are in for.
The show moves a lot more quickly now than it did when it debuted. David had shown signs of a psychic connection with Laura from #15 in July 1966, over 21 weeks before she arrived. Edward and Laura’s nine year old daughter Nora had dreams, visions, and an episode of automatic writing directed by Laura yesterday and the day before, and Laura herself shows up today. At first she meets Nora on the peak of Widow’s Hill, as a dream had told her she would. Laura comes to the house and sees Edward the following afternoon. Edward is horrified to see her; she is understated and cool at the beginning of their scene, but by the end of it she is in tears, pleading with Edward to be allowed to see their children, Nora and twelve year old Jamison. She thus recapitulates within minutes a progression that in 1966 and 1967 took months.
When Laura saw Nora on Widow’s Hill, she swore her to secrecy, forbidding her to tell anyone but Jamison that she is back. Nora did try to tell Jamison, only to find that he wouldn’t believe her. She showed him a broach Laura gave her which bears an Egyptian symbol that popped into her head yesterday; Jamison is entirely unimpressed.
We learned the other day that when Edward’s brother Quentin was banished from Collinwood a year before, Laura followed him. The two wound up in Alexandria, Egypt, together. Jamison and Nora come to Quentin’s room today; Quentin sees the broach and flies into a panic. He searches through a book, then demands to know where Nora got the broach. She says only that she found it in the woods, and he keeps asking if someone gave it to her. She keeps denying that anyone did, and he rushes downstairs, looking for Edward.
In the drawing room, Quentin sees Laura. He is utterly shocked. “You’re dead!” he exclaims. “I saw you die!” Last week, Quentin himself died and came back to life. When he told Edward about his death and resurrection, he laughed delightedly. When Edward asked for an explanation, Quentin dismissed the whole subject, having exhausted his interest in it with his laughter. Yet now he is stunned out of his wits to see that Laura too has returned from the dead. Seems to be quite a double standard at work.
Every character we see in this episode bears the surname “Collins.” I believe this is the first episode we have seen with an all-Collins cast.
Libertine Quentin Collins has learned that his estranged wife, madwoman Jenny, is being kept locked up somewhere in the great house of Collinwood. He learned this when Jenny escaped and stabbed him. He also learned that his brother, stuffy Edward, and maidservant Beth Chavez are involved in the plot to keep Jenny in confinement. He spends time today trying to find out where Jenny is, openly telling both Beth and Edward that when he finds her, he will kill her.
Edward is estranged from his own wife, and just yesterday we learned that her name is Laura. Evidently she is the same sort of creature as we came to know from December 1966 to March 1967. In those days Dark Shadows was set in contemporary times, and Edward’s grandson Roger Collins was dismayed at the return of his estranged wife, who was also named Laura. That Laura was an undead blonde fire witch, a humanoid Phoenix who sought to be incinerated with her son, strange and troubled boy David Collins, so that her own life could be renewed.
Today, the year is 1897 and Edward and Laura’s nine year old daughter Nora is convinced that her mother will return after a year when she has been away and it has been forbidden to mention her name. Nora has a vision of Laura’s face in the fireplace, a vision of flames in the corridor, and a dream in which she meets Laura in the woods outside the house. At the end of the episode she wakes up, sneaks out to the woods, and finds the cloak Laura was wearing in her dream lying on the ground.
All of this is recapped from previous episodes, but actors David Selby, Louis Edmonds, and Denise Nickerson make it worth watching. As Beth, Terrayne Crawford is stiff and literal, and her awkward performance does detract from her scenes. But everyone else is so good that you don’t notice her weaknesses too much.
This episode marks the second time we hear the name “Mrs Fillmore.” In #707, we learned that Beth took substantial sums of money into the village of Collinsport to a lady of that name as part of the plot to cover up Jenny’s presence in the house. Today Beth has to remind Edward of that fact, and Quentin looks through the envelope with hundreds of dollars in banknotes meant for Mrs Fillmore.
When Nora screams that there is a fire in the upstairs hallway, Edward and Beth run towards it. Quentin just sulks in the drawing room; evidently the idea that the house is on fire bores him. By the time Beth and Edward get upstairs, the flames Nora saw have vanished, and nothing is burned. She swears that there was a fire, they cannot believe her. This echoes #400, when wicked witch Angelique cast a spell that caused time-traveling governess Vicki to see flames in her room in the Old House on the estate, and subsequently Vicki’s friends were puzzled that there was no indication there of anything burned. That confusion led to trouble for Vicki, and longtime viewers can imagine it is a sign of trouble for Nora as well.
Yesterday, Nora drew a series of Egyptian hieroglyphics saying that her mother was coming home. At the beginning of her dream, a maniacal Edward holds an oversized copy of that drawing and rips it up, declaring Laura will never be back. The oversized drawing harks back all the way to episode #722, when Nora’s governess, neurotic intellectual Rachel Drummond, had a dream in which the daffy Carl Collins held a gigantic pocket watch. That was a striking enough image that not even the Vaseline almost entirely covering the lens could ruin it. But today even less of the picture is legible, and the gambit isn’t fresh anymore. Louis Edmonds does do a fine job of laughing maniacally, though, I will grant that.
The picture really does look like that, and it is supposed to look like that. Director Henry Kaplan was not much of a visual artist. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.
Repressed patrician Edward Collins enters his study in the great house on the estate of Collinwood and finds his brother, libertine Quentin, riffling through his desk. Quentin does not feel an obligation to apologize for going through Edward’s things since Edward is among the conspirators holding Quentin’s estranged wife, madwoman Jenny, prisoner somewhere in the house. Quentin learned that Jenny was around only when she escaped from her cell and stabbed him. He is looking for information about where she is now so that she will not get another chance at him. Edward says that Quentin does not need to know where Jenny is, since he is confident she will not escape again.
Quentin is not at all reassured by Edward’s promise. He brings up another topic, Edward’s own estranged wife. For the first several weeks of the portion of Dark Shadows set in the year 1897, the audience was led to believe that Jenny was Edward’s wife, and the mother of his children, twelve year old Jamison and nine year old Nora. When we found out that Jenny was Quentin’s wife, we wondered not only who Edward was married to, but also whether Jenny had borne children by Quentin. After all, she is obsessed with her “babies,” and in #707 we learned that the enterprise of concealing Jenny’s presence in the house involved taking substantial sums of money into the village of Collinsport and giving them to a Mrs Fillmore. Perhaps Mrs Fillmore is taking care of Jenny and Quentin’s children.
Today, Quentin mentions that Edward’s wife, whom Edward said in #705 and says again today “no longer exists” as far as he is concerned, is named Laura. This rings a very loud bell for longtime viewers. The first supernatural menace to dominate the plot of Dark Shadows was Laura Murdoch Collins, estranged wife of high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins. That Laura was on the show from December 1966 to March 1967. In the first week of the show, newly hired governess Vicki was surprised to learn that Roger’s wife was still alive, and was told in no uncertain terms that she was not to be discussed. In #705, during the first week of the 1897 portion, newly hired governess Rachel Drummond was surprised to learn that Edward’s wife was still alive, and was told in no uncertain terms that she was not to be discussed. Like Roger, Edward is played by Louis Edmonds. When we learn that Edward’s wife, too, is named Laura, we can only assume that she, too will prove to be an undead fire witch out to incinerate her children for the sake of her own immortality.
Quentin reminds Edward that Laura followed him the year before when he was banished from Collinwood. Indeed, Laura followed Quentin all the way to Alexandria, Egypt. The other day, Quentin admitted to Jamison that he had been a police spy in that city. Edward does not want to hear about any of it.
Nora enters. She asks Edward if she can use his desk to draw with crayons. Edward says that he was just leaving, and she can do what she wants. Quentin stays behind with her for a moment. Nora asks her uncle if he thinks her mother will come back. He looks uncomfortable, says he doesn’t know, and exits.
Barnabas Collins, a distant cousin recently arrived from someplace far away, enters. He looks at what Nora has drawn and recognizes Egyptian hieroglyphics. He asks if she copied them out of a book; she says that they just popped into her head. He says he wonders what they mean; she looks directly into the camera and tells the audience she knows exactly what they mean. They say that her mother is coming home soon. And indeed, they do include actual hieroglyphic symbols for “Mother,” “Come,” and “Home.”
Nora starts talking about her mother. Barnabas encourages her to continue with the topic, and Edward enters. Edward is quite stern with Barnabas; he had made it clear that his wife was not to be discussed with anyone in the house, least of all with his children. Barnabas explains that Nora brought her mother up. He goes on to show Edward the drawing and tell him that he finds it profoundly disturbing. Edward accepts that as a sufficient excuse for going along with Nora while she talks about her mother, but he attributes the drawing to Quentin’s influence.
Whenever we saw Laura alone indoors during the “Phoenix” storyline, she was staring blankly into a fire burning in a hearth. She kept urging her son, strange and troubled boy David, to join her in this pastime, and every time he did we were led to believe that she had taken a sizable step towards her terrible goal. Now we see Nora in the drawing room, staring into the fire that always burns in its hearth.
Nora hears gurgling noises, like indistinct voices rising from below or behind the fire. Frightened, she runs into the foyer, into her father’s arms. She tries to explain to Edward what she heard, and he insists there is nothing to be afraid of. He carries her into the drawing room, where he declares they will look into the fire together and will both realize that nothing out of the ordinary is going on. His plan fails when Nora sees a face wearing a blonde wig starting to take shape in the flames. Nora cries out that it is her mother’s face. We pan to Edward. He is also looking into the fire, and he looks shocked. We wonder whether he is shocked because he can also see the face, or if he is merely alarmed by Nora’s reaction.
Roger and his sister Liz, the adults in the generation of Collinses who live at Collinwood in the 1960s, are Jamison’s children. So Edward and Laura are their grandparents. If this Laura is indeed the same immortal humanoid Phoenix who was David’s mother, Roger therefore married his own grandmother. In #313, Roger had a line about his “ancestors,” which Louis Edmonds bobbled. When he said “incestors,” he giggled, repeated the misspoken word, then corrected himself, calling the maximum possible attention to his error. Many fans bring that rather bizarre blooper up when we come to this story. The writing staff picked up ideas wherever they could, and I suppose the cast’s line difficulties might have been as good a source as any.
Well-meaning time-traveler/ bloodsucking abomination from the depths of Hell Barnabas Collins has found himself in the year 1897, where he must take action to prevent his distant cousin Quentin from becoming a malevolent ghost who will ruin everything for everyone on the estate of Collinwood in 1969. He has no idea what that action will be, so has decided to intrude as aggressively as he can in as much of the family’s business as he can until something turns up.
At the moment, Barnabas is strenuously trying to keep Judith Collins, the mistress of Collinwood, from sending her twelve year old nephew Jamison to a boarding school called Worthington Hall. Worthington Hall is run by the Rev’d Gregory Trask, a descendant of one of Barnabas’ old nemeses. Yesterday, Trask had an unsettling encounter with Jamison during which the camera dwelt heavily on Jamison’s nervous habit of fiddling with his belt, prompting us to wonder why Trask gives Jamison the feeling that he ought to make very sure he remains fully clothed.
Today, Trask’s daughter Charity shows up. Nancy Barrett, who previously played the sometimes-capricious, always likable heiress Carolyn and the fragile, highly comic heiress Millicent, makes Charity just as imposing a heavy as her father.
Jamison’s governess, neurotic intellectual Rachel Drummond, tells Barnabas that she was a student at Worthington Hall for many years, and that the place was gruesome. The Trasks kept the children separated from one another, locked them in cupboards for weeks on end when they incurred their displeasure, and generally exploited and abused them. She herself was forced to stay at the school as a teacher when Trask lied to her and claimed that she owed him money, and she escaped with the aid of a fellow sufferer.
Trask confronts Rachel in the drawing room. She tries to stand up for herself, but he breaks her resistance down expertly. Trask’s one moment of weakness comes when he starts talking about Rachel’s lovely hair, and he suddenly turns away. The mask has slipped, and the audience has seen that Trask’s interest in Rachel is sexual. But Rachel is too intimidated to recognize what has happened, and when he resumes his righteous tone she crumbles. When she next sees Barnabas, she rushes away in tears.
Rachel had another traumatic experience over the last few days. Quentin died, turned into a zombie, and abducted her. No one has given her the news yet, but Quentin came back to life yesterday. She is horrified when he comes into the drawing room and sees Quentin. At first he takes on a lumbering gait, and she screams. Then he laughs and starts walking normally. He explains what happened, as best he can, and they have a strangely pleasant conversation. Again, this is a testament to the high quality of the acting. It is hard to imagine that anyone less charming than David Selby could make us believe a woman would be so comfortable with Quentin after what Rachel has been through.
Barnabas takes on the form of a bat and bites Charity in her bedroom. Presumably he does this so that he can use her as an agent against her father. This raises the question of why he didn’t just bite Trask and put an end to the whole thing. Of course, the real-world explanation is that the writers wanted to keep the story going, but usually they take care to maneuver Barnabas into a situation where he is compelled to bite one person rather than another. So it’s rather sloppy to end the episode this way.
Still, this is a very good installment. Too good for some viewers; my wife, Mrs Acilius, refuses to watch the Gregory Trask episodes, because Jerry Lacy plays him so effectively that it ruins her day to spend half an hour in the presence of such an overpowering evil. Kathryn Leigh Scott brings Rachel’s self-doubts and final defeat vividly to life as well. By the time I got to the end of their scene, I was shouting at the screen “Bring back the zombies and werewolves and witches!” So I cheered when Barnabas bit Charity.